#I do have a few stacked up but life has been busy so I've been taking it easy

[dazzle-art]

Hi Razz,

Does you has a Ko-fi or anything like it?

Hiya! Technically speaking I do, but it's not hooked up to any bank account so I can't take commissions through ko-fi as of now. If you'd like me to draw you something, I'd gladly do so as a request! The request box is usually open anyways!

[paradiseprincesss]

forever, not maybe | jonathan crane

hello hello! sorry i haven't been posting as much i've been busyyy and a little burnt out if i'm being honestttt but enough about me. when i say "catwoman mask" in this fic - i was thinking of the lace one ariana grande wore for tbim music video lol anyway...i had "off to the races" on repeat while writing this <3

summary: you have a secret life as catwoman that you've been keeping away from your boyfriend, jonathan crane. however, it seems he has a secret life of his own, too...

warnings: smut, p in v, fingering, choking, kissing, swearing, MDNI 18+ ONLY

word count: 3.6k

masterlist

“i’m working late tonight,” jonathan said over the phone with a sigh.

“again?” you asked your boyfriend, trying to feign the sadness in your voice.

jonathan had been working late night shifts at the asylum for the last few months; so often that you swore he saw his patients more than he did you. naturally, you missed him. all you wanted was to be in his arms again, laid up in bed as he held you and told you how much he loved you.

but the extra time away from him gave you more time for your…hobbies.

of course you felt guilty lying to your boyfriend about your whereabouts or what you were doing — but you couldn’t risk him finding out about you being catwoman.

every time you told him you were going to sleep, you’d really be getting ready to commit a heist, or worse, find batman and reign chaos in the city just to spite him. you’d always tell jonathan the reason you were so tired all the time was because you were having trouble sleeping when he wasn’t there — but alas, it was because you were out on crime sprees until five in the morning.

“i’m sorry, darling. i wish i could be at home with you right now,” jonathan said softly, his voice tinged with guilt.

“i know, jon. it’s okay — i think i'm gonna go to bed now. it’s late,” you replied, trying to sound exhausted as you yawned. “see you in the morning, baby.”

“see you then, darling,” jonathan said softly, “i love you.”

“i love you too,” you sighed, hanging up the phone.

as soon as you hung up the phone, you jumped out of bed and rushed to put on your catsuit. after you threw on your fitted outfit along with the matching mask, you were sneaking out your window in mere seconds, creeping off into the dark, crime-filled city that was gotham.

tonight, you were on the prowl for a certain villain though — the scarecrow.

the two of you had had a mutual distaste for each other. he’d once told you that you were “too morally ambiguous,” as sometimes you’d be robbing banks and committing heists, whereas other times you’d aid batman in the saving of gotham city. you thought he was full of shit, and you made sure to remind him that his plan to poison the entirety of gotham city with his fear toxin would never work every chance you got. 

the two of you had a strange dynamic — always messing with one another's plans and such, but last week, things seemed to have changed between you and him. 

it all started when he came to pay you a visit after you’d robbed two men at gunpoint, stealing their cards and some cash out of pure boredom. you heard footsteps behind you as you were counting stacks of cash, and once you glanced back, you saw the scarecrow himself approaching you in the quiet parkade you stood in.

the two of you never stopped to talk very much, as usually each interaction lasted no more than a few minutes, but tonight, neither of you were in a rush to leave. the scarecrow looked at you through the eye holes of his burlap mask, and for a moment, you felt oddly comforted by his presence. 

“catwoman,” he said, looking down at the cash in your hands, “we meet again.” 

“we meet all the time,” you retaliated, hearing his distorted voice through his mask. 

“we do, yes,” he replied casually, “but i’ve never gotten the chance to speak to you alone like this.” 

“that’s because you’re always interrupting me when i'm busy,” you teased, looking up at him with a small smile. 

you noticed he stopped talking to look closely at you, almost as if he was analyzing you. picking you apart detail by detail, his blue eyes trailing over every single inch of you. his eyes darted over the lace covering your eyes before he narrowed them, inhaling sharply. 

“...has anyone told you that you have a pretty smile?” he asked quietly, and you almost had to get him to repeat himself out of disbelief. 

“did i hear you correctly?” you asked, attempting to clarify what exactly he was trying to get at. “did you just compliment me?”

“it would appear that way,” he said with amusement.

you stood there staring at him for a few seconds, unsure of what to say before you scoffed, waving his compliment off.

“i have a boyfriend,” you huffed.

“a boyfriend?” he teased, his blue eyes widening under his mask. “is that so?”

you hummed in agreement, flipping through the dollar bills in your hands. “i love him. a lot.”

“i see,” he said once more, “i forgot to mention that i saw you last week, by the way.” 

“did you?” you asked nonchalantly. 

“sneaking out of your apartment window at midnight — i wonder if your boyfriend knows what you do when he’s not home.” he teased, causing you to stop what you were doing as your heart raced.

“you know where i live?” you tilted your head to the side to emphasize your confusion, causing him to chuckle softly.

“that i do,” he shrugged, “and dare i say, you really are quite the beauty when you don’t have this lacy little mask covering your face.” 

he gestured to your mask, causing you to roll your eyes which were partially hidden by the lace. “i told you i have a boyfriend,” you said harshly. 

“i can’t help but wonder what he would think if he saw you like this — stealing from the innocent people of gotham city.” you could almost hear him smirking through his mask by the way he talked. “hm?” 

“well — i don’t plan on telling him,” you sneered, causing the scarecrow to chuckle.

“so feisty,” he purred. “tell me about this ‘boyfriend’ of yours.” 

you crossed your arms, still holding the cash in your hand as you let out an annoyed sigh. “he’s a doctor,” you said, not-so-subtly bragging, “and…as much as i wish i could tell him about what i do, i don’t think he’d approve.”

he nodded, taking in everything you were saying. 

“but you don’t need to know the intimate details of my love life — quit asking.” you said, shaking your head as you shook the thought of jonathan out of your mind for the time being.

the scarecrow looked at you with intrigue, taking a step closer to you. as you took in all the details of his suit, you couldn’t help but notice how oddly familiar it looked — you’d sworn that you had seen this exact suit before. 

“you must really love him, don’t you?” he asked casually with a shrug. “well, maybe he knows more than he’s letting on.” 

“i highly doubt that,” you sighed, realizing it was time to head home since jonathan would be back soon. “i have to go.” 

he nodded, looking at you with those strikingly blue eyes before turning around and disappearing into the shadows. you stood there for a few moments quietly, struggling to understand why he felt so familiar yet so distant to you at the same time — it almost felt like you’d known him for ages. 

once you got home, you quietly reached for your front door before realizing it was locked. you’d made your way out tonight through the window, but when you looked up at it, you realized that there was no way you would be able to climb that high and get through it from the outside. 

“need some assistance?” a familiar voice called from the bottom of your porch stairs. once you quickly turned around in a panic, you saw a certain scarecrow peering up at you.

“what are you doing here?” you asked in a hushed whisper. “my boyfriend is going to see you. he’s supposed to be home from work any second!” 

“relax,” he commented, making his way up the porch stairs. reaching into his suit pocket, he pulls out a shiny piece of metal — a key. “i just want to help you, is that so wrong?” 

as he unlocked the front door and swung it open, you harshly grabbed his wrist, pulling him closer to you. 

“and why do you have a key to my boyfriend's house?” you asked with irritation. 

“because,” he said, his voice no longer distorted, “i live here.”

your grip remained on his wrist as he spoke softly to you, and your eyes met with his brilliantly blue ones — you only knew one person who had eyes that striking. you almost felt silly for not realizing sooner, but to be fair, he’d only come to realize who you really were just last week. 

it all made sense now  — the “late” shifts at arkham, the way he’d sometimes come home bruised and bloodied (which he said was because of his “violent” patients), and the way he’d always avoided talking about work with you every time you’d asked.

he shut the door behind the both of you as you gently let go of his wrist, looking at him in awe as he turned back around to face you. you still had your catwoman mask on, and he was still wearing his scarecrow one. you stared at him in silence, almost at a loss for words before you finally spoke up quietly, your eyes still locked with his blue ones. 

“you’re…” you trailed off, reaching up to tug at his mask, wanting nothing more than to take it off. “you’re the scarecrow…”

“and you’re catwoman,” he teased as your fingers ghosted the edge of his mask.

“shut up,” you blushed, “and take this off.” 

you gestured to his mask, but he shook his head as he stared at you through the eye holes. “i have an idea,” he suggested, “why don’t you make your way to the bedroom and wait for me, if you’re not too tired.“

“you cannot possibly be suggesting what i think you’re suggesting—”

“i am,” he said lowly. “...if you want to.”

without another word, you bit your lip and nodded, making your way to your shared bedroom excitedly. it was almost thrilling, the way he was commanding you and telling you to behave. it’s not that jonathan wasn’t bossy during sex (or in general if we’re really being honest here), but the added excitement of knowing your smart, calm, doctor boyfriend had a not-so-innocent side made it so much better.  

you sat obediently on the edge of the bed waiting for him. he eventually joined you, still in his scarecrow mask and suit, eyeing you down. 

“i’m sorry i didn’t make it clear,” he stated, “but i wanted you waiting with nothing on.” 

“but you’re—“ you tried to protest, as he was still fully clothed. 

“be quiet,” he growled, grabbing you by the throat, “unless you want a taste of my fear toxin, hm?” 

you swallowed, nodding as the grip around your neck made you dizzy, and you did as you were told to do. he watched you closely, looking at you through those eerie eye holes of his mask as you undressed hastily.

“slower,” he said, “give me a little show, won’t you sweetheart?”

you almost choked on your words when he spoke — you were enjoying it, though. something about your usually calm, collected, gentle boyfriend acting like this was triggering something primal in you. 

as you stripped down into nothing but your bra and underwear — which were matching, by the way — his pupils went wide at the sight. you sat back on the bed in your lacy undergarments, and he took a few steps closer, not yet getting on the bed with you.

“you really are perfect, you know?” he spoke softly, even though he looked rather intimidating, but it had you rubbing your thighs together.

“light of my life,” you breathed. “that’s what you are.” 

“is that right, my darling?” he asked, his voice giving away that although he was acting tough and composed — he was crumbling because of you. “are you forever mine?”

“forever yours,” you replied with no hesitation. 

jonathan made his way over to you, grabbing your face gently as he stood at the edge of the bed.

“i love you,” you whispered, and his grip on your face softened. 

“darling,” he rasped, “lay back on the bed for me.” 

you do as you’re told, laying back on the bed as he joins you, his hands immediately snaking behind your back to unclasp your lacy bra. 

“angelic,” he breathed, speaking softly. “how are you real?” 

his last words were so quiet, you barely heard him through the burlap mask covering his head. you were sprawled out on the bed, back resting on the pillows as his hands reached to tweak your nipples softly, causing you to moan quietly. he was hovering above you, propped up on his arms and studying your every reaction as he took in the way your body responded to his touch. 

suddenly, his hand brushed up against the lace of your panties, teasingly dragging his fingers across your skin. you let out a soft whine, shifting your hips slightly out of habit. “please,” you whispered, “touch me — scarecrow.”

as the words left your mouth, he was tearing your underwear clean off of you, causing you to get incredibly turned on — as if you weren’t soaking through your panties already. 

jonathan brushed his fingers against your sticky folds before slowly inserting one of his fingers into your tight hole, causing you to let out a vulgar moan as he toyed with your cunt. 

he continued to stare down at you as your back was pressed into the pillows, giving him a perfect view of your face as he watched from above. you let out a mewl as he started to pump a single digit in and out of your dripping cunt, your cheeks flushed a pretty pink shade.

“m-mm, oh my god—!” you moaned, feeling him curl his finger in a way that made your back arch. he let out a low hum before inserting a second digit, causing you to gasp. 

“jon,” you breathed, “f-fuck, yes—“

“i know, darling,” he cooed, watching you as he pumped two digits in and out of your tight, warm hole. “it’s a lot for your tight little cunt to take. i know, but don’t worry — i'll get you nice and stretched out before i bury my cock inside of you.” 

his filthy words caused you to tighten up around his fingers, making him let out a low chuckle from behind his burlap mask. “someone likes it dirty, hm?” he teased, and you let out a breathless moan. 

“c-close,” you managed to choke out. 

“who owns you?” he asked, fucking you with his fingers as he rubbed that spongy spot inside of you. 

“you!” you whimpered, “fuck, you do—“

your release hit you, hard and fast, as you clenched around his fingers. your vision was clouded with stars, pure ecstasy running through your veins. jonathan watched you like a predator watches its prey, his eyes running all over your body as he studied you through the eyeholes of his mask. 

you lay on the bed breathless, your cheeks flushed still, as he looked down at you sprawled out against the soft pillows. you could hear him breathing heavily from behind his mask — it almost gave him a power trip to see you like this; fucked out and submissive to him as he was dressed up as scarecrow. 

you let out a huff, closing your eyes for just one moment before they shot open again to the sound of his belt being unbuckled. you rubbed your thighs together and whined softly, causing jonathan to let out a low groan as his cock sprung free against his stomach, hitting the white button down shirt he wore.

he gave himself a few strokes before lining himself up with your dripping entrance. 

“how badly do you want it, baby?” he teased, rubbing his cock up against your slit slowly. 

“so bad,” you whined desperately, “please, jonathan—”

“try again.” 

“fuck, please! please, scarecrow…” you begged, hoping you’d get what you were wanting after fixing your mistake. 

it seemed to work because before you could whine anymore, you were letting out a filthy moan as he rammed himself into you, breaching your tight hole. even though you’d just taken his fingers, you hadn’t been able to fuck him for a few weeks, due to work and all — so you were taking a little longer than usual to adjust to his size. 

“m-my god, s-slow down—” you breathlessly gasped, feeling his cock pounding your cunt mercilessly as he set a fast pace.

“you can take it,” he assured you, still fucking you harshly as his hands come to grip at your throat. “keep squeezing my cock. fuck — like that.” 

you could feel him stretch out your drooling hole as you mewled, unable to form any proper sentences or get any real words out from the way he was fucking you. jonathan kept a firm vice around your neck, causing you to struggle for air slightly as his normally bright blue eyes turned about fifty shades darker. 

you didn’t know what was turning you on more — the fact that he was still dressed as scarecrow, mask and all, or how roughly he was drilling into your sopping cunt right now. 

“o-oh my god—” you whined, looking up at him breathlessly as he continued to squeeze the sides of your neck. “i-i can’t…”

jonathan was for sure having an ego trip right now — the way you were completely at his mercy as his cock pounded against your cervix, creating the perfect mix of pleasure and pain. the way you looked at him like he was your entire world — because he was — even while he was fucking you stupid. just everything about you had jonathan tripping out on ecstasy, pleasure, and dare i say love?

“what is it, my darling?” he cooed mockingly, cutting off your air supply once more with a harsh squeeze to your neck while he was balls deep in your cunt. “use your words, darling — you can do it.”

“c-can’t breathe,” you managed to rasp, your hands clawing at his, “let— go—”

satisfied with your begging, jonathan let go of your throat and placed his hands harshly onto your hips. his fingers dug into your sides as he continued to plow your pussy with no intention of stopping until you were ruined.

he could see the fear in your eyes — even if it was mixed with arousal — and it brought him closer and closer to the edge with every thrust. you, along with jonathan, were close to coming undone as well, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as pleasure consumed you.

“come,” he growled, “show me who owns this tight fucking cunt.” 

you let out a choked moan as he rammed his cock into you so deeply that you stopped breathing momentarily, before letting yourself tip over the edge. your release winded you, causing you to scream his name so loud that your neighbours would definitely know who was fucking you right. 

“jonathan! f-fuck!” you squeaked out, creaming on his thick cock. 

“scream my fucking name,” he said lowly, “that’s right — god, you feel so good.” 

he let out a low groan as he felt your walls tighten up around him, and he watched your every move as your orgasm washed over you. you looked so beautifully fucked out and mindless with every fleeting moment — it was perfection. 

it didn’t take long for jonathan to come after seeing you like this for him, and he let out a low groan, giving you a few more harsh, deep thrusts before filling you up completely with his sticky cum. he looked down at you quietly as he propped himself up above you on his arms one more, taking off his burlap mask and tossing it to the side. 

you gave your boyfriend a soft smile, letting out a huff of air as you rested your head on the satin pillows behind you.

“wow…” you said, trailing off into a soft chuckle. 

“i love seeing you all ruined for me,” he told you, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “you’re something else, you know that?”

he helped you get cleaned up afterwards, making sure to be extremely gentle and caring towards you despite almost breaking you in two just minutes prior. after he had you tucked into bed, he placed a kiss on the top of your head as you snuggled into the covers.

“i’m going to go shower,” he said casually, “go to bed, sweetheart. you’ve had a long night.”

“mm,” you mumbled sleepily, “come to bed afterwards.”

“i will,” he assured you, placing one more kiss on your head, and another softly on your lips. “...i love you.” 

“i love you too,” you said softly, yawning as you found comfort in the sheets. “goodnight, scarecrow.” 

your sleepy words caused him to let out a quiet chuckle as he admired you. the light from the moon illuminated your face dimly as it casted down on you through the bedroom window. 

jonathan sighed to himself happily. 

you may have been catwoman to the outside world — sneaky and conniving — but to jonathan, you were just…you. those so-called claws of yours were nowhere to be seen as you slept peacefully in your shared bed, dozing off under the moonlight as you waited for him to come back to bed with you. 

“goodnight, sweetheart,” he said softly.

but you were already fast asleep — dreaming of him like always.

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[thefiery-phoenix]

Hi I have been reading all your works and I'be got to say that its really good I mean like wow anyways I would like to request a platonic y'know fix with the oldies of lookism I mean Charles and tom Lee meeting up and Charles bragging about his child (the reader) there new awards , involvement in the business or you can do the geniuses instead of the reader being a genius she's named as the prodigy and is literally so smart like 400 IQ type shit and she literally saves the company's reputation, every genius admits shes smart and kinda like a learning genius where she doesnt have to copy it but masters whatever she wants to learn isnt a copy genius btw but can you like make the personality of the reader a bit like James like reserved nonchalant etc anyways thank you

Hello and thank you for liking my work, it really does mean a lot to have your support❤️

THE PRODIGY

"Long time no see Choi'' spoke a hulking and imposing man that stood tall and towered over the frame of the CEO of the HNH group as Charles glanced up from his newspaper to see none other than Tom Lee, the owner of the White Tiger Job Centre (Baekho HRM), known for being the best in the business to get rid of people in a sneaky and quick manner. "Oh please, you act like we haven't seen each other in years when we just met 2 months ago'' scoffed Charles slightly but a small amused smirk formed on his face. "You look happy...whose life did you screw over, you old crone?" chuckled Tom as he took out his grey bottle from his trench coat pocket and gulped a large sip of his alcohol from it. "Oh come now, you act like I'm a criminal or something...but I didn't screw anyone over yet...for now'' said Charles as he headed over to the table nearby and shuffled a few papers till a picture of you fell out from the stack of papers as Tom's interest piqued up and peered at your picture in an interested manner

"I didn't know you started hiring girls to do your dirty work Choi...props to you for following gender equality and such'' grinned Tom as he stared at the picture. "Ah, that's my newest recruit. One of the prized gems I've had the fortune of stumbling upon. Her name is Y/N L/N'' spoke Charles proudly as the lines around his eyes crinkled slightly out of pride for you. "This is the first time I've ever heard you praise someone other than those brats Gun and Goo...I wonder what makes this one here so special that has you singing her praises'' questioned Tom as he raised a brow in curiosity, awaiting for Charles' explanation. "In a way, she's kind of like James Lee...an exceptionally skilled and talented fighter, I daresay even stronger than Gun and Goo... she has training of the Indian martial arts called Kallaripayyatu along with Krav Maga which makes quite the deadly combination when used in combat. The advantage of her using her skills is that no one can predict what she might do next. She's even more unpredictable than Goo and James because if someone faces them a couple of times they'd be able to read their attack patterns with ease. But it's different for Y/N, you'll never know when she'll whip out a chain or a knife or just fight with her bare hands... that's what makes her quite the enigmatic fighter, she isn't afraid to fight dirty as well''

"She sounds like quite the catch then...'' muttered Tom as he continued to drink his drink and stared at your picture. "She's even won an award for her literary works as a writer, the Lindenberg award and is quite the over achiever if I must admit...a real prodigy of a girl. My daughter took an instant liking to her as do I. She simply cannot stop singing her praises'' replied Charles as Tom had an amused smirk on his face. "Neither can you and the amount of stalking you do makes me look sane'' answered Tom with a cackle. Charles smirked as he replied "That was mere research...her personality is a literal carbon copy of James, completely reserved and shy and nonchalant'' "Ah, so you're dealing with a touch me not of an introvert then eh, good luck getting that one to open up to you'' said Tom as he snickered and gulped down the last sip of his drink before he stuffed his bottle back into his pocket and glanced at Charles

"Doesn't matter though, I'll have to make her open up...what she's achieved to do for my company was more than what any of the Worker's affiliates could do, they're all mere useless inexperienced children in front of her...'' scoffed Charles as he hummed slightly and his gaze left your photo to focus on the view of the night city before him, several feet below him, taking pride in the fact that he'd gotten to a point where people had to look up to HIM. "You better be careful though...a little birdie told me that Steve Hong was looking forward to meeting with Y/N L/N'' said Tom with a slight grin as Charles' posture stiffened and his jaw clenched as he narrowed his eyes. "What did you say?" he asked in a soft voice, his tone laced with malice and hidden fury. 'That old bastard...if he ever thinks he can have Y/N and steal MY prodigy from me, he's got another thing coming...he can't have her..no...I'll make sure of it...' Charles thought to himself as Tom smirked, looking like he'd just read Charle's thoughts. "You look awfully nervous of losing your beloved little prodigy...wouldn't it be a shame if someone were to snatch her up like the little feather that she is for someone else to use?" asked Tom, his cheshire cat like grin evident on his face and his eyes glinted with malicious amusement, enjoying the sight of Charles Choi on the verge of losing his cool and his patience on the line

"Let me enlighten you with a little story...a while ago Eugene tried to recruit Y/N to join the Workers and he somehow thought he could keep it quiet from me but failed. Why else do you think I decided to meet with Jake Kim, the son of Gapryong Kim that night? We both know it wasn't out of sheer pity...Y/N is my ticket to destroy the crews and the Workers and expand my empire'' said Charles as he continued to stare at the city beneath him, just how he liked it, everyone underneath him, serving him. "I sometimes forget you're more unhinged and ruthless than me...I can't say if I'm shocked or proud'' spoke Tom as he trailed off and looked like he was pondering about something. "This is coming from someone who strips his clothes off and challenges his employees to a fight to the death. It's a miracle your so called employees lasted for so long'' replied Charles as he smirked at Tom. "Touche old Choi'' grinned Tom

"I'm planning to make sure she stays close to us...to me...at my residence. Of course, I shall fund for her schooling and such'' said Charles after a few moments of silence. "Doesn't she have parents?'' asked Tom with a quirked brow as his amused smirk grew even wider. It was such a sight to see someone like him be so obsessed about someone like you, and rightfully so, Tom could understand his friend's obsession with you. You were a natural gifted fighter, the sort of fighter people would literally KILL and spill blood to have on their side. "Do you think that concerns me? Her father is a software engineer and her mother is a stay at home housewife...hardly what I call a challenge. Her potential will be wasted if she continues to live with them. I've tried to convince them before to send her to me and they had the guts to refuse me even after offering them a fortune...I am Elite...if it means I have to get rid of her parents and have their blood spilled then so be it. It will also prove as a warning for anyone foolish enough to attempt to lure her to them. Besides, I've already spilled blood before, it's nothing new. What's a bit more going to do?'' answered Charles, his eyes glinting with malice as his smirk widened. Tom was now convinced you really were the prodigy he'd heard so much about from the people around who kept on yapping about you. He was just glad he managed to wring out the information from Charles which saved him tons of amount of research as he mentally decided to pay you a visit some day...even if it meant dealing with Choi's wrath which he could always deal with later. The main goal on Tom's mind now was how to get you on HIS side...

[planetdream]

Types of mafia bosses/position in the gang for skz? I've got the brain rot for this lately I blame the pics of them in suits and shit; I just imagine loads of tattoos too and yep I may do this to myself. But anyways, thoughts? Or thots?

can't wait to find out who of them is the first to get a real tattoo 😻😻 i will go batshit fr but i do love me some good organized crime (goodfellas is one of my favorite movies of all time, and ive written scarface fanfic, been thinking about watching the sopranos) also so so so sorry bc this was sent in may and clearly I took my sweet time answering this 🥺

cw; organized crime (i just love saying that) (non desc.) violence n drugs n sex 😻😻

let me preface this by saying, bear with me, because although i gave this a lot of thought, it lowkey reads like a random cluster thoughts lmao. anyway, i came to the conclusion that if i ever were to potentially expand on this concept more 👀👀👀 that in my head, the boys are split into two crime families, with chan and minho being the two bosses. think of their dorm arrangements (3racha/hyune + minho and the minhoettes; if those are still their arrangements ? lol). i would also say the two families are on fairly decent terms.

chan, or should I say, chris, is the stereotypical mob boss who chooses to shield his lover from the violence and drug side of his work—but has no issue showering them with the drug and violence money. if you haven't seen goodfellas, there's a scene where karen asks henry for money to go shopping before he leaves, and he gives her half of this thick stack of cash before she drops to her knees and well... yeah. not sure why, but it gives channie vibes, imo. like he hates to be pulled away from his work, but if his baby needs him for a few minutes, even an hour or two, it isn't a problem.

i'd say as a mob boss, he's one that lurks in the shadows—he likes to protect his peace, to an extent. he'll pop out and show his face every once in a while to remind others of his territory. he's always going to get his lick back, but he plays things strategically as he's not someone who makes brash decisions; it might not happen now, but it will happen. he also tries to give back to his community and those who raised him within his neighborhood, etc. he's all about strong family bonds and despite him being feared; despite all the blood and threats, the violence and damage; he craves to be loved.

changbin, strikes me as someone who is eternally faithful to the family. maybe..even to a fault (if this were a scorsese film, i feel he'd be one of the last to be murdered; and it probably happens off screen lol). but because he is loyal, he is most definitely chan's second in command, a real right hand man. if anything has happened to chan, then changbin knows that he must not hesitate, he must not mourn or act out—but to learn from chan and play things strategically. he must assume the role of the don. off topic, imo, he's someone that might show off his partner. bringing them to poker nights so all the others can drool over them. his lover is his prize and he'd go above and beyond for them. (has definitely been set up by a lover so he doesn't trust easily, but when he does, whew, he falls head first)

hyunjin is in it for the moneyyyy.. feel like he just wants to show off and get girls (and the mens...👀) and do drugs. he just wants to have fun, most importantly. life is like a video game to him; he's kinda just doing a bunch of side quests—but he knows everyone and everything, a real socialite. kinda perceive him as a friend of the mob who has serious drug connects. since he's everywhere all the time, just being in others business feeling like the cops would be trying for yearsss to pin him on murder or intent to distribute charges but they've only got him for possession once.

now jisung confuses me just a bit. originally i wrote this paragraph about how jisung and felix remind me of lenny from shark tale (another scorsese classic, sorta). they don't seem to be cut out for the life of crime and would rather just leave and be their true selves. but them mfs r not sharks!! leaving can be potentially dangerous and often has consequences (and those two would like to keep their fingers and well, their lives).

that being said, i had been internally debating on whether or not jisung would be perceived as someone who could potentially squeal if pressured heavily—which definitely would affect his rank/status.... but I think he's dedicated to prove himself in the life he was given. likely starts of simple; he's selling drugs n stuff. then, he's even handled a couple hits—so now he's looked at with respect when around everyone. and if he's honest, to be accepted and respected means a lot to him. he almost wears his murder count with such pride. has been told time and time again, not to act irrationally.

minho, is ruthless, and would like for his other half to be equally as ruthless. for that reason, he doesn't care to shield any of his work from you, and often asks for your opinion on things. if you're in the club and somebody hits on you or tries to start shit he wants you to be able to handle yourself; thus he recognizes you are your own person and not his property. i feel like minho would want to damn near fear his lover. yet I also view him as someone who is nowhere near ready for a relationship (doesn't have the time, he says) but is always at the right longitude and latitude to fuck yk?

because min is a scorpio I am also inclined to say that he is also a boss that lurks in the shadows—pulling strings behind the scenes. he's not a show off and he's not much of a talker either so but you better believe his actions speaks volumes. he fears no one and will more than definitely make sure he makes an example out of those who fuck up. low-key god complex; everything works out in his favor, especially if he's the last one standing.

nobody knows felix is apart of a crime family and he likes to keep it that way. he flies under the radar and because of it, he's made things that seem impossible happen. he gives a very trustworthy vibe, people feel comfortable around him—he deceiving them. but it's gotten him certain connections, through certain doors, and he's learned heavy secrets (blackmail champion). his kill count is unknown. no like he flies so far under the radar, not much is known about him. still, he says a lot about himself without saying too much.

thinking that seungmin is minho's right hand—his MOST trustworthy. yet I can also see seungmin as someone who may have ulterior motives: he's making his own moves and plays behind everyones back and can be perceived as untrustworthy if anyone knew simply due to the nature of what he's doing (building his own empire maybe who knows) honestly gives hitman vibes if im real (I think there's a very thin line between hitman and serial killer yk and well...hitmen don't take trophies...) seungmin is fr someone who shouldn't be crossed. isn't into dating but he might fuck around once or twice

jeongin chases that dream to be a Made Man™ since being a kid (similar to henry in goodfellas) I would say that he's really reliable. well, until he's not. he's handsome and the ladies love him, what can he say? thus, he stays IN the club unless there's an important play to be made. he's crossed between living his young life [drugs, parties, fucking] and going for his dreams and really committing to the mob life. every so often he has phase where he's getting back into the loop of things until something traumatic happens then he's off on a 4 day binger,,

very interesting indeed.....would love to chat more on this hmm

[itmeansiris]

The Solar System Legacy Challenge: Good Morning Brindleton Bay Gen 1 pt.58

With all the birthdays past and the house renovation's mostly finished, the family finally got some much needed rest and relaxation that weekend. With Spirit and little cousins Van and Mitchell as long term houseguest the place felt warm and full of life and love.

Spirit (as always) was the first awake. She makes a fresh batch of orange juice before she sits in the living room turning on the weather, when Kason joins her. They chat for a while before Spirit gets up and heads to the kitchen.

Kason: I can take care of breakfast, rest.

Spirit: My dear an old women has few pleasures. Feeding my family is one of them.

She whips up a batch of Belgian waffles. The delectable smell of sweet batter, berries and sugar stirred some of the household occupants awake. Van and Mitchell were first, greeting Spirit before jumping in to help by taking out the trash. Kason joins them, grabbing a mop to cleaning up someone's paint mess.

Kason: Those smells amazing.

Spirit: It's an old family recipe. I used to make them on snow days when Mercury and Beckett were young. Would get them right out of bed, and at the table. Come to think of it, it worked pretty well on Jorden too.

Spirit added the final touches to breakfast before calling the guys to come and eat.

The smell of breakfast too much to deny, M and Aphrodite join the now empty table.

Aphrodite: Good morning mom, morning Nana.

M: Morning mom, Morning sweetie. Is that grannies waffle recipe?

Spirit: The one and only. Come have a seat.

M and Dite dive into their stacks of waffles. M closes her eyes for a moment, remembering mornings with her own grandmother in the kitchen.

M: It's good to have you around mom.

Her voice cracks with emotion.

Spirit: None of that. Finish your breakfast. I want to get the kids dressed and take them to the Farmers Market in town today.

Between a mouth full of waffle M agrees.

M: Sounds like a fun idea doesn't it. Maybe you guys can stop and pick up new backpacks for the kids they start school Monday. With all the parties it kind of fell to the back of my mind.

Spirit: Absolutely! I loved school shopping with you and Beckett.

Aphrodite isn't as quick to jump on the idea.

Aphrodite: But mom, this weekend is the "Giddy up" horse show. I was hoping you would take me.

M: Sweetie we would have needed tickets for that weeks ago. I'm sorry. How about this, next weekend you and I will take a ride to Chestnut Ridge and we'll go horseback riding just you and me. How's that sound?

Aphrodite: Promise?!

M: Promise.

That earned her a smile and a hug.

Aphrodite: Your the best, mom. Nana, thanks for breakfast.

After polishing off the last of her waffles, M wakes Zohreh and brings him down for breakfast. Kason is at her heels.

Kason: Good morning handsome guy. Good morning beautiful.

He pulls her against him in a kiss too hot for a room full of children. They'd been so busy lately it felt like they'd hardly had time to enjoy each other romantically.

M: Mmm, that's the kind of kiss that makes you want to stay in bed.

Kason: I'd like to have you in bed but I've got a meeting this afternoon that I can't miss.

M: On a Saturday?

Kason: I used PTO for both birthday parties, I figured it’s the least I can do for Greg. On the way home I’ll pick you up a scone from the Pumpkin Patch Cafe.

M: Throw in a cinnamon bun and you’re free.

Kason: You drive a hard bargain but I think I can make room for a cinnamon bun and a Pumpkin Spice Latte.

He kisses her again.

M: You spoil me.

Kason: I intend to collect on this sweet deal of yours when I get back.

He whispers close to her ear.

Kason: I intend to have you in our bed all night.

She flushes suddenly in a flirty mood. Her face warms and she looks around to see the room has gotten even more crowded with Ishtar and Venus finally joining everyone downstairs.

Venus: Can I have an extra waffle Nana?

Spirit: Then your brother would have less.

Ishtar: That’s okay Nana, she can have it.

Venus: YES!

Spirit: Sweet Ishtar. That’s a good boy.

Aphrodite: Geez Venus, do you have to be so loud?

Venus: YES! YES! I LOVE WAFFLES!

M smiles at the chaos. Kason grabs a berry from Venus plate

Venus: DAD! Hey, that was my blueberry!

Kason: You got your brother’s waffle you can spare a berry kiddo.

Aphrodite stands off to the side looking slightly bored with the rowdy exchange.

Aphrodite: I'm going to get ready for the market. Can you guys hurry up please.

The rowdy group hurries to finish breakfast and get dressed for the day.

After Kason leaves for his meeting and Spirit and the kids head to the Farmers Market Mercury goes into her office, turns on the computer and opens up the draft for her book.

PREV

NEXT

@kiarasims4mods Travel to Menu

@littlbowbub grannies cookbook

@srslysims Complete cooking overhaul (Juice maker)

[takerfoxx]

On the night of the election, I had an honest-to-God dream where I woke up and found out that Harris had shockingly come in from behind and won the election. I remember how relieved I was that the nightmare had been averted. That we did choose to not elect a senile fascist back into office. That most of my country weren't willing choosing evil over progress.

Then I woke up, literally and figuratively.

Obviously, this has been a heavy blow. Honestly, as someone who was raised as a conservative Christian, who was a huge fan of Linkin Park, Kanye West, JK Rowling, Joss Whedon, Neil Gaiman, and the Undertaker for years, and who felt like I could trust my friends and family to have my back, it's been like these last few years have been a relentless train of disappointment and disillusionment in everything and everyone I once believed in and looked up to, and who I would go to for escape when things were bad. I know you should never meet your heroes, but damn, could they just have been like salty jerks who were caught being mean to the waiter instead of fascists, abusers, bigots, and so on? Could the entire world view that I had been raised in and fervently believed for over half my life not have turned out to be so awful? And yeah, I'm including the friends and family part in that as well.

Obviously, since the election, there's been a lot of finger pointing. Did Harris run a bad campaign? Did she abandon the working class? Was it the Gaza issue? Was it the fault of moral abstainers or third-party voters?

And honestly, I get it. Given the sheer horror of what we're facing, I get being frustrated with people who don't help and/or vote against their own interests only to go all Shocked Pikachu face when the worst possible scenario occurs. But I've been doing some thinking, and I personally believe that even if all those groups came out in support of Harris, whether it be because they do support her or even just as a way to block Trump, she still would have lost. This is the first time in a long time that a Democratic nominee lost the popular vote, after all. I think Biden would have lost too, and he only won in 2020 because of the very unique circumstances caused by the pandemic.

I think we need to face the facts. America's been sliding into fascism for decades.

Reagan. The extremism that erupted after 9/11. Birtherism. Gamergate. The Manosphere. The far right has been busy, whether it be stacking the deck politically or pinpointing the fears and insecurities of every generation and tuning their messaging to draw people in. They tell them what they want to hear, that it's not their fault that they aren't getting what the American dream promised them, and it's all the fault of (insert minority group here). It's been targeted. It's been methodical. And it's been working.

Trump won. He's going to get away with everything. The far right won. This sucks. I wish I had some inspiring words about never giving up the fight, but I'm not that guy. And honestly, I'm starting to feel that spiteful part of me come out, the one that sort of hopes that everything does get much worse so that every braindead moron who voted against their best interests gets exactly what they got coming to them.

But I also know how dangerous that line of thinking of. So please, Do NOT listen to me. There are plenty of people still rallying the troops, still encouraging people to fight, people who are in far more danger than I am. I'll be fine. I'm just a tired and disappointed middle-aged white guy living in a boring California suburb. I'm safe. But there's a lot of people that aren't. And those are the voice that you need to be listening to.

As for me, I'm not giving up, I'm going to keep voting, going to keep supporting the causes I believe in, and going to keep helping how I can. But I'm also going to go away for a while. Not long, probably just a few weeks or so. But I'm going to disengage from social media for a bit to keep from doomscrolling and just focus on writing, because that's all I really know how to do. And when I do come back, I'll have a lot more stuff for you guys.

In the meantime, please be good to yourselves. Be good to those who are scared and hurting. The world needs you in it, now more than ever.

[fandomsnstuff]

this just started as me wanting to complain about the work it takes to prep a house to sell but now it's kind of an au

@taznovembercelebration

Day 15: vampire au/last

Kravitz is moving for possibly the last time in his very, very long life, and he ruminates a little on what got him to this point.

Read it on AO3

Barry drops another cardboard box into the growing sea of stuff in the garage. “One thing I wish I'd considered before becoming immortal was all the moving.”

“Tell me about it,” Taako says, writing his name on a piece of painter's tape and slapping it on a garbage bag of clothes. “One second I'm joining my hot ancient vampire boyfriend in his immortal curse, and next thing I know, I've moved fifteen times in the last hundred years.”

“We haven't moved fifteen times,” Kravitz skirts around him with another box. “This is only number ten.”

“That's still too many.”

He drops the box on top of Barry's. “It wasn't nearly this much work when it was just me in apartments and such. But four times the people, four times the stuff.”

Taako points at him, “this is the last time. New vamps, new start, new system. Taako can't be doing all this physical labour every couple of years for eternity.”

Barry leans against a stack of boxes. “Maybe this is why you deemed immortality a curse. You've been spending your eternal life doing one of the worst chores an adult can do.” Kravitz just shrugs. Barry says, “this'll be good. The land's nice and far from any prying eyes, and the house Magnus and Julia designed is beautiful.”

“No! More! Moves!” Taako chants.

“Okay,” Lup comes into the garage, “Magnus is on his way with the truck and reinforcements, so he'll start taking loads of stuff to the new house. Stager comes tomorrow, carpets get cleaned Wednesday, pictures Thursday, and we're in business by the weekend.”

“Let's sell this bitch,” Taako says.

A few months later, the old house has sold, and they're settling into their new, custom-built home. Kravitz is sitting out back, watching Lup and Taako argue about toppings by the pizza oven. His heart swells.

He'd been alone for so long. As far as he knew, he was the only vampire left. His life became an exhausting, monotonous dance of isolation. Running from place to place the moment he felt any whiff of suspicion in his direction. But then he met Taako. Handsome, wondrous, stubborn Taako.

Kravitz had wanted to run the moment he realised Taako had taken an interest. But when he started packing his things and looking for a new place, for the first time in centuries, he hesitated. Taako was the first interesting thing to happen to him in ages. Maybe he deserved to have a little fun.

“A little fun” quickly turned into deep, unavoidable love. So Kravitz tried to blow it up. He told Taako they couldn't be together, he walked away and blocked his number and ran. But Taako isn't so easily swayed. Through avenues that Kravitz is still in the dark about, he tracked him down and banged on his door until he was granted entry and an explanation. So Kravitz told him what he was. He told him they couldn't be together because Taako would age and Kravitz wouldn't and after a few decades he would be alone again. He didn't want to know a life of companionship if he was going to lose it in the blink of an eye.

And Taako laughed. He laughed until he had tears trickling down his face. He said, “you thought I didn't know? Babe, the moment you brought me home I knew. I don't give a fuck, all my friends are freaks.”

Kravitz met Taako's friends, and they all seemed normal to him. “Magnus?”

“Werewolf. And Julia.”

“Davenport?”

“Shapeshifter.”

“Merle?”

“Fae.”

“Lucretia?”

“Merfolk.”

Kravitz hesitates, because there's no way he's anything but human, but he has to ask, “Barry?”

“I'll give you three guesses.”

“...no.” Taako smirked. Kravitz stared at him wide-eyed. “There's absolutely no way.”

“Full blooded vampire.”

“Full blooded?!”

“The man has never had a drop of human blood in his veins.”

Kravitz pushed his hands into his hair. “I thought I was the only one left.”

Taako patted his back, “you just didn't know where to look.”

He looked at Taako. “Are you…?”

“I'm the only full human in the group.”

“What about Lup?”

“We still don't really know what she did, but she kind of Danny Phantom-ed herself and has been able to willingly shift to a phantasmal form for a few years now, so,” he shrugs, “she's human, but also maybe half dead? I try not to think about it too much.”

That conversation, as… mind blowing as it was, was the start of the rest of Kravitz's life. Taako made some very compelling arguments and convinced him to come back and try again. It was just under a year after that when he turned Taako. He was hesitant to do it, but was convinced when Taako reminded him that all his friends were immortal, and if he wasn't going to do it, he'd go to Barry, “and I'm not into him like that, so I'd rather not.”

On the back porch, watching the twins, Kravitz finally understands the concept of a forever home. Why spend eternity running when you could travel and have fun and do much more pleasant things than packing? And why not give yourself a soft place to land when you need to rest?

Barry comes outside and sits next to him, holding out a drink. “They're still at it?”

Kravitz takes it. “Yeah. Though they've moved from olives to anchovies.”

Barry chuckles and shakes his head. “I think they'll still be arguing about it when the next ice age comes around.”

Kravitz laughs, and they sit in a comfortable silence for a while. “Hey Barry. You've been around a while.”

“Sure have.”

“So you've been navigating life as an immortal for a long time. Like, almost as long as I have.”

“You've got maybe two hundred years on me, but yeah.”

“Then why the fuck did you let me move the four of us through ten houses in the last hundred years?!”

Barry laughs long and loud. He sighs. “Oh, my god,” he wipes a stray tear away, “I was wondering if you'd put that together.”

“Well?!”

“Oh, man,” he clears his throat. “You'd been on your own for so long, and set in your ways, and so afraid of being discovered, we thought it'd be best to do things your way for a while. To let you get used to us and the group and what have you.”

Kravitz narrows his eyes. Barry bites his lip like he's trying not to laugh again. “There's more. Spill it, Bluejeans.”

“Lup and I made a bet on how many moves Taako could go through before it got to him.” He takes a sip of his drink. “I won, for once.”

Kravitz considers this. “What'd you win?”

He smirks. “You don't want to know.”

“Ugh!” Kravitz stands. “Gross, I don't want to know about your sex bets.”

“I didn't say anything about sex!”

“A non answer is still an answer,” he turns to go back inside, “next time just lie and say money!”

Barry shouts after him, “this is your life forever now!”

[eunchancorner]

Revenged and Rescued (Part 4)

I did say I was probably gonna keep going today. I'm on a roll that NO ONE can stop

-

“This is where you’ll be sleeping,” Charles announced as he showed Henry to a medium green tent. Inside were two cots; the one on the right was surrounded by crates, the one on the left stood alone.

“I, as your rescuer, have been given the opportunity to keep an eye on you at night. So, of course, I’ve already called dibs on the cot to the right. Also, if I wake up in, like, the middle of the night, don’t worry about it. I’ve been having these weird dreams lately and they keep waking me up at night. Don’t worry, I’ve already gone to medical about it, they say it’s just something to do with my innermost fears and should go away once my brain realizes it’s not gonna fucking happen,” the pilot began to ramble as Henry approached his cot. Other than the pillow and thin blanket, his side of the tent was completely empty. No possessions to speak of nor clothes to change into.

“... and of course, Eel has already somewhat schooled me on helping keep up with your maintenance, since the rest of the tech squad’s usually busy and medical has to focus on our wounded- by the way, you don’t mind that I’m gonna have to help with that stuff, right? It’s gonna get kinda personal, since it’s your whole spine, and your chest and entire left arm and all,” Charles cut into Henry’s thoughts with the question, and he looked over at him.

“Oh? Uh, yeah, sure, I guess. I’ll have to get used to it, but it shouldn’t be a big deal,” he assured the pilot as he sat down.

“Good, good… Oh, by the way, we sent some of our guys down to your place. I hope you don’t mind, it was just to grab some clothes. And if there’s anything important there, I could ask them to run back out there. It won’t be too much trouble, since most of our pilots are just kinda hanging out right now. They also grabbed your bag from that barge in the North Sea, since it seemed really important to you.”

“My bag?! Oh my God, I completely forgot about it after… Oh, you guys are lifesavers!” Henry covered his face as he sighed in sudden relief. 

“Yeah, here, it should be in this crate,” Charles pushed a crate over, the words ‘H. Stickmin Possessions’ stamped onto it in bold letters. With a grunt, Henry pried the lid open, and sure enough, there was a black fanny pack laid carefully on top of a few stacks of clothes. He picked it up and slung it over his shoulder, slipping the bag portion effortlessly onto his back, sighing in relief.

“I’m complete now, I can die happy now that this thing is safe,” he sighed, plopping backwards onto the cot, earning a quiet laugh from Charles.

“Don’t you die on me again, we just got you back!” he giggled, grabbing Henry’s arm and pulling him back into a seated position. He sat next to him, holding up with one arm so he didn't try to fall back again. “You're stuck with me now, Henry!”

“Well, well, look at that.”

The two looked up to see General Galeforce standing in the tent entrance, watching the two with a small smile.

“Hey, General!” Charles greeted, his smile still bright as he pat Henry on the back. “Look who decided he did wanna be my friend!”

“I see. I have to admit, I'm very glad he did. How've you been holding up, Henry?”

“It was a rough start, but it's been getting easier. Charles is actually pretty great company, too, so that's been helping me feel better,” Henry admitted to the veteran.

“I've been telling him all about his upgrades, life on the base, he even got to meet my squad!” Charles told his superior excitedly.

“I see. You've always been a talker, Charlie… well, Henry, I've got someone else who wants to talk to ya.”

[betweenthings2]

“this was supposed to make you happy!” @ me reading your prompts and getting emo

Thank you for the ask!! I'm so, so, so very sorry it took me so long to write this, I have no good excuse. The prompt list is here, though, if anyone wants to see it =)

Reactions to making someone cry- "This was supposed to make you happy"

George hears the front door open, then shut, then the sound of Matty taking off his shoes and coat and dropping his backpack in the living room before he appears in the entryway to the kitchen. He's been in the studio all afternoon, and he looks a little bit tired, but happy. Happy is good, George thinks. Matty has looked happy a lot lately.

"Hey, how'd things go?" George asks.

"Good," Matty says. "Unproductive, but good. Probably would have been more productive with you."

George laughs at that. It's a fifty/fifty shot whether they'll be more productive together or alone. "Tomorrow," he promises. Then, gesturing towards the wine glass on the counter, "I poured you wine."

"Really? Thanks." Then, "What's for dinner?"

"You'll find out," is George's answer. "Just drink your wine."

Obediently, Matty sips his wine, then comes around the kitchen island and wraps his arms around George's waist where he's standing in front of the stove, then stands on his tiptoes to hook his chin over George's shoulder. "Missed you today," he murmurs.

"I know," George answers. "I missed you, too."

"Remind me why you couldn't come?" Matty asks, not moving.

"I was busy."

"Busy doing what?"  

"You're so impatient, you know that?"

Matty nods, his chin digging into George's shoulder. "You know it, too," he counters. "You married me."

"One of the best decisions I've ever made," George agrees.

Matty presses a kiss to George's jaw, then says, "Love you."

"I love you, too," George echoes. "You know what today is?"

Matty nods again. "'s our anniversary. Happy anniversary, baby."

George smiles and turns to press a kiss to Matty's temple. "Thought you might have forgotten."

"Forgotten?" Matty asks, indignant. "About our anniversary?"

"Well, we’ve been on the road for the past few. Thought you mighta lost track."

"I do know the days of the week, ya'know."

"Happy anniversary, Matthew," is what George chooses to say. He's not going to argue with Matty, not about something so insignificant, not today.

"Love you," Matty murmurs. "Love lovin' you." He presses another kiss to George's jaw, then adds, "Thanks for marryin' me."

"Best decision of my life," George responds. "Five, maybe ten minutes and dinner 'll be ready."

"Can I help at all?" Matty asks, not moving.

George shakes his head. "Nope. Just gimme a few minutes."

"Alright," Matty agrees. He presses one more kiss to George's jaw, then lets go of George and goes to lean against the counter and sip his wine. "I made us a reservation, ya'know," he says. "You didn't have to slave away over the stove for me."

"I wanted to," is George's answer. "I like takin' care of you."

"Still," Matty insists.

"I know," George says.

Matty doesn't say anything else, just refills his wine glass and waits for George to be done cooking. When he is, he herds Matty towards the dining table and sets a plate in front of him. He murmurs a quiet word of thanks, then, after a couple bites, looks up at George and says, "This is the greatest thing I've ever eaten."

"That's high praise," George teases. "You sure?"

Matty nods, emphatic. "Absolutely."

George smiles. "Every day I think I can't love you more than I already do and every day you prove me wrong."

"Well, I do love being right," Matty agrees. Then, "I bought you something."

"Did you now?"

Matty nods and from seemingly nowhere, he pulls a jewelry box and slides it across the table to George who opens the box to reveal a stack of three gold bracelets, the first solid and textured, the second an intricate chain, and the third solid and polished.

When George doesn't say anything right away, Matty starts, "I, erm, I thought-"

"I love them," George interrupts. "Thank you, Matty."

Matty smiles, kind of bashful, and goes back to his dinner. He's never been particularly good at being thanked.  

George just shakes his head, fond, but rather than trying to convince Matty of anything, he pulls his own little jewelry box from his pocket passes it across the table, saying, "As it happens, I got you something, too."

Matty pauses. "What is it?"

"Open it," George urges.

Matty doesn't open it, but he picks it up and looks it over, like he's looking for some kind of secret.

"It's not gonna bite you, sweetheart," George teases.

"Piss off," Matty mumbles, but he's smiling as he says it.

"Go on and open it," George repeats.

So Matty does. Carefully, he opens the little box to revel the slim silver band with inlaid pale sapphires that George had picked up that morning. It matches Matty's engagement ring, also a silver band with inlaid stones. He doesn't say anything, just stares at the ring for a moment, half confused.

"The jeweler said sapphires are traditional for fifth anniversaries and I know you're not big on tradition, but-

Matty looks up at George with tears in his eyes and sniffles. "George," he starts. "I-" and then he's setting the box down and wiping at his tears with his napkin.

George gets up and goes around the table to gently take Matty's napkin and close the ring box. He wipes away a tear, then, "This was supposed to make you happy, love, don't cry."

"I'm not upset," Matty tries. "Just, I love you. A lot. And you love me enough to give me things like this and-" he cuts himself off to wipe away another tear and sniff.

"I do love you a lot," George agrees. "And you're mine and I want the whole world to know it."

"I don't know what to do with that sometimes," Matty admits, tearful.

"I know, but I do," George murmurs. He picks up the little velvet box from the table and pulls out the ring, then holds his hand out to take Matty's. "Gimme your hand."

Obediently, Matty holds out his left hand and George slides the ring onto his finger, resting it next to his wedding band.

"I love you," George murmurs. "I'd put a ring on your finger every year if I could."

Matty laughs and holds out his hand to examine in the low light of the dining room. "I love you. Thank you." He sniffs again, then adds, "Dunno where I'd be without you."

"You'd be ok," George says, "but I'm glad I'm here with you."

[thessalian]

Molly!Rook vs Unholy Alliances

Over in the Lighthouse - or, as our Rook calls it, the Surreal Estate

Bellara: Where's everyone?

Lucanis: Neve's contacts with the Shadow Dragons had a lead. Or they said so as a request for help. Or something. Rook personally seems to believe that it is a partial excuse to pick up those serials you were interested in.

Bellara: ...That's so sweet! I mean, not the "gods still causing trouble in Minrathous" part; the serials thing.

Lucanis: Wait. The gods were at Minrathous before?

Bellara: I mean, not Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain--

Lucanis: Who?

Bellara: Oh, right; Rook calls them "Robe-Guy" and ... "Tentacle-Lady".

Lucanis: And ... Rook is Dalish. And they refer to their gods this way?

Bellara: They said something abooooooout ... "They're trying to wreck up the world, and I like the world, it's where I keep all my stuff, and they don't deserve my reverence, so I will address them by what titles I feel they deserve". Which is why Rook goes around calling the Dread Wolf "Egg-Face".

Lucanis: ...You have to admire that level of sheer overconfidence.

Molly!Rook: *more or less appears out of nowhere, handing Bellara a stack of parchment* So who wants to help me figure out which would be the best companions to take to a meeting with the First Warden? Because I am not qualified for that.

Bellara: ...wut.

Molly!Rook: Oh, and you can thank Neve for the serials; I was too busy getting the grand tour of Dock Town without someone swinging a sword at me! ...Mostly.

Lucanis: I'm sure there's some information missing here.

Molly!Rook: *ticking off on fingers* Venatori have a relic that lets them control darkspawn. Which they tried to use to murder the Shadow Dragons in their lair--

Neve: *lounging a bit behind* ...Hardly a "lair", Rook.

Molly!Rook: Shadow Dragons. Dragons have lairs. Anyway. *goes back to ticking off on fingers* There's a demon somewhere under Minrathous preying on the desperate, because of course there fucking is, I'm surprised there's just one, there probably isn't just one but I cannot solve that in an afternoon. And now the First Warden wants a chat with me of all people.

Lucanis: And ... the 'mostly'?

Molly!Rook: Oh, a few demons - so that was less "swords", I guess - some Venatori I tripped over while looking for identification on murder victims and candlehops--

Bellara: Candlehops?!?

Molly!Rook: My life is weird; just go with it. Anyway, also one bunch of what I think were mercenaries? Anyway, armed and armoured thugs who weren't Venatori and probably weren't demons but decided to try to shank us in an alley.

Bellara: Okaaaaaaaaay ... so ... when are we taking that relic off the Venatori? That belongs in the Vaults. I mean, you know that, right?

Molly!Rook: Well, we have to find it first, but yeah. As far away from that cheese wheel as we can manage.

Bellara: Oh, definitely.

Harding; Neve; Lucanis: Cheese wheel?!?

Molly!Rook; Bellara: Don't ask.

Bellara: No, seriously - it's so bad we can't even give details. It doesn't even have a plaque.

Molly!Rook: And given what Blight does to organic material, I'm not risking that ... that thing becoming Blighted and given over to the gods. Or the Venatori, for that matter.

Neve: Like they've been given pet darkspawn? In my city?

Molly!Rook: We're sorting this. And I'll owe you a fish dinner out of it when we do!

Neve: ...Honestly, not the worst I've been paid for a job.

Harding: So ... look, while we don't have any leads we have to be running down right this second, we can talk to the First Warden, right? I mean, it's Blight. Sharing information feels like a good thing.

Molly!Rook: Especially when you consider that a run-around in various memories at the Crossroads suggests that this is very old Blight, not shiny new Blight. It'd be nice to get the skinny from someone who isn't Varric. Who's a great storyteller but only has third- and fourth-hand information, and from not the best sources anyway. I mean, the Hero of Ferelden got a sudden unexpected field promotion and had no one to teach her how to do things. Hawke's brother was not the most communicative person. And Blackwall was a fraud.

Harding: Soooooooo who're you taking?

Molly!Rook: Still working through that one. The connection was through the Shadow Dragons, so Neve, you might be helpful there. But honestly not sure whether to be calling on Harding because of, like, the fact that you've sort of dealt with Wardens before, peripherally anyway ... or Lucanis.

Lucanis: Not that I am adverse to this, but ... why would I be helpful in this regard?

Molly!Rook: The Wardens have a good track record with quasi-rescued Antivan Crows. ...Not so much on abominations, but hell, they basically made one, and there was Wynne, so ... yeah. This feels like a good team. Let's see what this Jowin Glastrum has to say about the "new" Blight.

And later, in the Cobbled Swan

First Warden Glastrum: You're under arrest!

Molly!Rook: ...That ... was ... not on my bingo card for this meeting...

[aerialsquid]

FFXIV Write 2024 Day 25: Perpetuity

"Where's Gaheel Ja?"

"Off seeing his Bronze Lake girl."

"Oh, right." Martyn had tried to forget that two seven foot tall reptilian beas–triba–society members from across the ocean were still better at landing a date than he was. Latool Ja had something going on with a thaumaturge in the local Mamool Ja mercenary troupe, while Gaheel Ja had finagled a long distance relationship with a Roegedayn woman working at the hot springs in La Noscea. (What they did together was anyone's guess.) It meant Martyn got the apartment to himself more often, but did make him feel a bit inadequate.

"Well, means one fewer person to cook for, I suppose," Martyn said, setting the orchid down carefully.

"Yes, I suppose." Latool Ja's bulging eyes tracked Martyn across the room as he carried the bags of groceries to the icebox. Martyn had spent time enough with the pair to know that when both eyes of a Boonewa were following you simultaneously, the owner had either a deep interest in you or a deep concern about what you were doing.

"Something wrong?"

"You've not been fighting in the Celestium as often the last few months."

"Well, it's the off season, they don't hold as many shows during the rainy months. And I can't say I mind the break, do you?"

"But fewer fights should mean less coin, not more."

Martyn froze halfway through unpacking a sack of apricots. "Not sure what you mean?" he said, a bit louder, not turning around. "Nothing's changed about my income."

Latool Ja sighed. "I normally would not complain about good fortune that benefits me, but I would like to know who granted you such fortune."

"That'd be Nald, if we're talking money–"

"Martyn, you know what I mean."

"Why does it matter to you, you're benefiting?"

"I am not saying I'll judge," Latool Ja insisted. He absolutely would, if he knew. Anyone would. "But if it is crime, you must tell us. It will be our necks on the line too if you are caught.."

"It's not crime! Why are you jumping to crime? I've never done a crime in my life." Martyn folded his arms defensively.

"Last year, we caught you cutting deals with a somnus merchant."

"That was for medicine to send over to Lapis Canyon to stop a damn epidemic. It's not my fault dreamflower's a controlled substance."

"It was still crime, and you still did it behind our backs." Latool Ja set one claw to his hip, both eyes staring pointedly at Martyn.

Martyn avoided his gaze, continuing to stack groceries in the cupboard. "Well, this isn't crime," he said huffily. "For your information, I have uh, a new pupil. For the blue mage school. He pays extra."

Latool Ja's right eye rolled up and around, doubtful.

"He's a wealthy recluse. With, uh, social anxiety. And he's disfigured, never leaves the house. Not that it's really any of your business." Things which were mostly true about his client, though Martyn had absolutely no intention of telling Latool Ja exactly what they did together during their sessions. "But he has me come over to teach him every week, and he pays extra for the commute, and that's where the money's coming from, so shut up already."

The right eye rotated again and returned to staring at Martyn, who stuffed one of the apricots into his mouth in an attempt to look casual and calm. Finally Latool Ja sighed, rolling his left eye around and settling back into a nearby chair.

"Just don't do anything foolish, all right?" he muttered, slipping into his native tongue. "We don't have many friends in this country. I'd hate to lose one of the few we have."

[kaylinalexanderbooks]

Who is the most explosive when it comes to arguing? Who is the one who has to diffuse them?

And

What is a running joke within the group?

Hey! Sorry for the wait, I've been busy! (From this OC friend ask game)

I'm gonna focus on Part One cause that's easier. Since this is a friend group, unfortunately I have to leave Carmen and Jedi out of this. So just the kids. I'll do the full group so we get the entire team dynamic.

14. Who is the most explosive when it comes to arguing? Who is the one who has to diffuse them?

The most argumentative is Liam, but he doesn't explode. His thing is keeping things cool; he just approaches everything as an argument. But he sees it more as debating strongly held opinions that he has, or he plays devil's advocate in order for someone to play off him. He does this for fun sometimes, though everyone's used to it. He's learned to be open about when he doesn't mean something.

So not Liam. He's not explosive.

When Kelsey gets to a breaking point, she gets the most spectacular explosion. She's not in her best state right now, so unfortunately it's not the hardest thing to do, but it's usually if she feels untrusted or disrespected or that her life is falling apart.

Ash thinks she has more control than she does. But the girl is downright dangerous when she loses her temper. It may take a while, but so many things have to go wrong for her to absolutely lose it. If it stacks up, and she's overwhelmed or feeling trapped, she'll lose it, especially if you're being loud and pushy.

If you get Gwen stressed enough she's unrecognizably rude. She's frustrated and she'll snap at you. She doesn't want to do it, but if the girl's been through enough, good luck.

Lexi and Akash are the kind of people that don't seem like they have a temper unless you disrespect them one too many times. Or someone they deeply care about was hurt.

Rose and Niri are the two who don't like arguments, and if you dismiss them on an off day, they'll lose it.

Anyone who's good at seeing other points of view would be helpful to defuse an argument. As mentioned above, Liam is perfect. He spends so much time debating that he's the perfect candidate for trying to organize a peaceful resolution and figuring out the objective answer.

However, Liam can be insensitive. If you want a logical answer, he's the perfect mediator. But people like Ewan and Carla are good people to go to for the emotional mediating. Ewan will be more confident about his opinion, and Carla will be more empathetic than even Ewan. Having all three may be a good balance.

However, plenty of others can help mediate. Robbie and Gwen if they're not too emotionally compromised are good examples. Gwen is fantastic at solving arguments, but I also listed her as an explosive one - though I should reiterate that it takes a lot to get her to that point. Wade, as the natural leader, is also good at finding a solution, though he may look too big-picture.

5. What's a running joke between the group?

They have a few.

- when will Ewan and Jazlyn date already

- 12 is a lucky number

- Recruit #7 (who could be Parker, Niri, or Tyler I have changed the order many times) will eat Recruit #9 which is Robbie (because seven "eight" nine)

- cereal is the skeleton of milk

- Robbie is terrible at color perception

- Ash has the worst taste in food

- Lexi is a stalker (because she knows everyone's birthdays and schedules)

- Akash has no sense of humor (he made one bad joke and Parker won't let it go)

- a bunch of them call Gabriel "Gills" because his initials are GLZ

- calling Carmen Dr. Ass-ghar

- making Star Wars jokes with Jedi's name

- calling Noelle, well, Noelle! (Her name is Carissa but Ash thought it was Clarissa. When Carissa corrected Ash by informing her there was "no L" in her name, Ash misunderstood and thought she said her name was Noelle)

- this is just the top of my head there's probably more these are dumb kids

This was so much fun! Thanks for the ask!!

TSP intro

TSP tag list (ask to be +/-): @thepeculiarbird @illarian-rambling @televisionjester @finchwrites

@nebula--nix @literarynecromancy @honeybewrites @the-golden-comet

[domovi]

Fic: My duty

Short description: Colleague's words willy-nilly bring Mercy Dawn back to the past — a sad event in 2020, about which even Dawn prefers to remain silent.

Warnings: death, mentions of dead bodies, blood loss, shooting, injections, limbs and their absence.

Author's note: I'll try to be brief. I've been writing for a long time, but this fanfic can officially be called my first piece. I would like to pay tribute to the @ask-the-becile-boys blog and its moderator, which became the source of my inspiration. Dear Muse, you are my muse. Don't judge me. My friend forced me into writing this pun.

Translator's note: Guess who :)

Just wanted to wish you to enjoy the reading and also remind you that all claims for the translation are provided to @alreorem. It's my first time doing Russian to English translation so don't judge me too harsh, please. Just DM me and politely point out my mistake if you find one. Thanks for understanding! <3

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

Dawn, laying on the dining table, diligently tried to sleep, but something, or rather someone, interfered with this important, urgent matter.

Soroh: Dawny~ Ten more sheets~

Dawn: Nope.

Soroh: Hey! Don't even think about shoving everything on me!

Dawn: What do you mean by ʼeverything'?! There's a little left!

Soroh also looked tired. So much that he couldn't argue with his colleague and only pressured her with a clouded look. Next to them was a thick stack of documents that could scare any inexperienced worker, but Dawn and Soroh are old-school people, and this amount of work was a little less frightening.

The game of peepers was interrupted by Flint, who placed two mugs of water right in front of the noses of the sufferers. For an hour, he watched his barely alive colleagues, who seemed to have lost their last convolutions on half of the paperwork. Recently, they ended the argument about the correctness of filling the documents, and if earlier Soroh still took up the alteration of papers, now he quickly gave up, agreeing with Dawn and her 'It'll do."

Dawn: OOOH! Boiling water!

She cheered up and began to warm her hands. Coffee, tea, sugar weren't brought so often, their last joy was hot or cold water, though all sorts of impurities felt terribly wrong. They even tried to mix it with a tasteless parody of food, but they quickly regretted it. And sometimes Dawn managed to get vitamins. And even for such merits, Soroh still couldn't calm down.

Soroh: Work first.

Dawn: Am I even not allowed to drink?

Soroh: Exactly. No, I mean, are you serious? After boiling water, you'll stop thinking at all!

Dawn: Actually! As an assistant, you should do all of this. Look at me. In my youth, I was left alone with all the work.

Soroh: ... In the youth. And what period of life are you experiencing now?

Dawn: Old age Soroh, old age. So be kind, show respect for old age and finish everything yourself.

The woman lay down on the table and stretched like a sleepy cat with her arms and legs extended as far as possible. Soroh, on the other hand, didn't share Dawn's enthusiasm, shoving her leg with force.

Flint: Old age? And how many years have you been working here?

Dawn: Well... It's been four years already.

Flint: But that's only one year longer than Soroh..

Soroh: It depends on how to look at this situation. Dawn is the only one of my good acquaintances who has worked at Industries for more than three years. Though... There are also quite a few silent people, and I had no business with the authorities.

Flint: For real?

Dawn: ... Don't even look at me.

Flint was genuinely puzzled. He knew that Industries wouldn't let go of its wards, but then where did ordinary workers who had worked for more than four years go? The only outgoing person of the trio was Soroh, and Flint shifted his gaze to him.

Soroh: I've heard rumors about... a large-scale incident. Someone talks about an explosion that caused the release of green matter; someone talks about mass liquidation ... A lot of rumors can be heard, but I don't know what to believe...

Flint looked at Dawn again, hoping to see at least the slightest clue in her facial expressions, but she was already sitting, finishing her work and no longer going to take part in the conversation.

Dawn: ...It's not something you should know.

-

THREE YEARS AGO

_

Pylartes: Look. I need you to rewrite it on new forms and put it in piles. Oh, and write down two people with the best performance for me.

The day began quite ordinarily. It'd seem that only yesterday Dawn managed to deal with all the paperwork, as she was handed a mountain of new documents. And where do they get so much paper from, so that later they can rewrite it all! Mercy had a lot of resentment about her work, even with a lot of experience and a year of work, she had never received confidence in operations in Becile Industries.

Dawn: As you say...

The woman already knew that it was useless to argue with this position, at least with Pylartes. Not even an hour had passed before he hurriedly left the laboratory, not bothering to report whether he would return today or not. But Dawn wasn't upset by her loneliness, she only made herself comfortable, throwing her leg over a nearby chair.

This could have continued all day long, if not for a sudden interruption in the system.

After blinking a couple of times, the lamps went out, and the buzz of the working devices subsided. The last thing that stopped working in this room was Dawn, who was still finishing the sentence from memory. The main problem here is that in the dark the words climb on the lines, or even worse, on other words.

Only after the dot was put, the girl looked out into the corridor, which was also immersed in darkness, only a couple of anxious voices came from the direction of the Archive. The electricity was cut off in the entire building, which was actually strange and could only speak of an unforeseen situation. Pylartes would definitely warn about this, even though he was quite forgetful.

While Dawn speculated, the workers quickly fell silent as they returned to the workplace. Mercy, too, could have returned to her office and shy away from work, but she had two strong but poorly sealed refrigerators that couldn't withstand a long lack of power.

At her usual pace, Dawn cleaned up as much as possible, closed the laboratory and headed to the mechanics she knew. They didn't talk much; a couple of times she brought them a hematocrit centrifuge for repair, and a couple of times they came to her for medical help. Quiet guys, however, they weren't the only quiet ones. She hoped that they have at least some information or ideas on how to keep the cold in the cells.

Her vision took a long time to get used to the dark, only her hearing helped. As she was approaching the turns, the clatter of steps in front became duller, and on the sides, on the contrary, freer. Dawn never considered darkness to be something terrible, only her own sounds were alarming, which rapidly spread through an absolutely empty space.

Entering the workshop, with eyes already accustomed, Mercy looked around the room.

“Absolutely empty”, played in her head again, she was already nervous.

The place was quite large, and the guys could just relax somewhere far away or even in a warehouse. Dawn took in more air in her chest to call for one of the workers, but when she realized how loud she'd be in this place, she quickly changed her mind and preferred a quiet inspection.

She didn't have to be here often, but each time everything was different. Details that differed from each other in shapes and sizes; sheets of various kinds of metal, which sometimes didn't fit in the workplace; even the tools were constantly changing their position. It seemed that all this was completely out of order, or maybe all these things were just abandoned in a hurry.

Abandoned in a a hurry...

She felt uncomfortable. And why the heck would she think that? Although, it was really too quiet for anyone to be here.

The door from the warehouse was wide open and after listening for a couple of minutes, Dawn concluded that there was no one after all. It was at least not safe to enter a place full of heavy, unknown objects, and Mercy wasn't a fan of looking for adventures on her adult head. It remained to assume that the guys left to solve problems in the system and soon everything would work. She can go back.

The noise began to reverberate down the corridor. At first, Dawn was even happy that someone was coming in her direction, but the longer she waited, the more anxious she became. One step grew into five, and five into twenty, and twenty into a hundred. The whole space was filled with the sounds of the march, which only became louder.

Dawn stepped back at one of the tables and leaned against the wall. Even if the heart began to throw out portions of adrenaline, but her mind was clear and ready for rational action. Mercy knew what fear can lead to and was especially well aware that in stressful situations, the brain tries to intimidate you even more. There may be a less creepy explanation for all this than the imagination betrays.

Or so she thought, until she heard a powder pop. Her body stiffened, followed by the thoughts that had just shouted: “Run! Hide!”, as if they themselves didn't expect a shot that marked the beginning of a terrible show.

The march played with a distraught orchestra, where every instrument was for itself, and the death was the conductor. The hail of lead was accompanied by flashes and the more often they sparkled, the more lives were taken.

Quickly realizing that disaster was rushing in her direction, Dawn fell on her knees and moved to the very depths of the table. One hand helped her body to stay in tension, and the other closed her mouth, so that the trembling didn't take possession of her body.

What a pity there was nothing to close her ears. In addition to the shooting, aggressive exclamations fear-filled screams and the last wheezes of people were heard. Only one word sounded louder and clearest, in which confidence and despair lived. That word was “Move!”.

It was over as quickly as it had begun, but Dawn was hesitant to move.

It turned out to be not in vain. Slow, haughty footsteps scoffed, echoed, first down the corridor and then in the workshop. Her jaws chattered as Mercy diligently watched her breathing. Her lungs were filled to the brim with oxygen, and then very slowly deflated, almost suffocating. The only thing that differentiated her from the floor was the rumbling of her heart. The blood pulsated through the vessels, causing her body to be thrown whether into the heat or into the cold.

Her thoughts began to get confused from an overabundance of noise in her body, thinking only about how to silence everything. In the meantime, the steps were getting closer, clearer.

They stopped only when they were near the table, right above her head she was afraid to raise. What if they've already seen her and are just just playing with her now? Waiting for Dawn to raise her cowardly eyes?

Time dragged on, and thoughts only swarmed in an already noisy head. An unknown person went to the pantry and only then left the room. For a while, their footsteps reverberated through the corridor, and even when they were completely silent, Dawn continued to draw them in her mind.

It was no longer possible to sit under the table. While everything was quiet, it was worth returning as quickly as possible. With the utmost care, Mercy looked around the room and gradually got to her feet. A slight feeling of relief spread throughout her body, involuntarily increasing the trembling. No longer feeling her own weight, Dawn hurried to the exit, where only a small part of the incident was seen.

The emptiness was filled with dead noise. If someone else were in the place of the girl, then their fantasy would clearly play out and begin to reproduce scenes from creepy movies with zombies or other creatures. But the woman was too old for that.

Dawn is a doctor, but the last thing she wanted at the moment was to do her duty. The chance of saving only her own skin, among possibly living bodies, was so attractive, just not to become part of the fresh cemetery.

And then, muffled wheezing. Only it was able to stop Dawn. Her legs simply refused to go any further.

Someone behind her back was alive, but she didn't dare to turn around. Someone who so desperately needed her help was very close, but Mercy also wanted to survive. She, not only as a doctor, but also as a person, couldn't drop her oath and hurried to the workshop for a first-aid kit. What a stupid decision.

Her mind cleared up immediately, and it was followed by insanely clear actions, like a machine performing the same program. Unfortunately, Dawn knew all too well how ruthless the hands of watches can be.

It was easy to find the alive, but wounded victim among the corpses. She tried to be quiet, discreet; but in addition to wheezing, panic betrayed her. According to the old habit, Mercy quickly began to act, completely forgetting about someone else's fear.

No sooner had she approached the girl than she jerked back sharply, making a sound that would have sounded like a scream if it had not been for her broken voice.

After inspecting her from top to bottom, Dawn could already clearly see the spots of damage. Of course, most of the bullet wounds were on her prostheses, which replaced almost all of her limbs. The only part that was made of flesh and blood was the left hand. And it was what bothered Mercy the most.

Dawn: Calm down, I'm a doctor.

Her hands rose up on their own accord in a conciliatory gesture. Even though a fragile thread of trust was stretched between the girls, the fear didn't go away. Mercy helped the girl sit down, simultaneously asking all the important and necessary questions for the doctor, to which she only nod or shook her head. She didn't even try to speak.

The only visible injuries were two bullet wounds: one through in the humerus (biceps brachii muscle) and one blind wound, all signs that the bullet went straight into her shoulder joint.

First of all, she tried to stop the bleeding. If a tourniquet could be applied to the first wound, then the second had to be covered with a pressure bandage. The woman forcefully squeezed the fist of her prosthesis, the grinding of metal and heart-rending groans were heard.

Dawn: Hush, it's okay, you're doing fine.

The doctor spoke without hesitation in order to somehow calm the wounded girl. Everything was supposed to stop as soon as possible, as soon as the light returned, the incident would immediately be made public. Everything will end soon, she will live.

Her hands reached for the first aid kit. Doubtfully, but among the adrenaline, insulin and other drugs in the form of a bottle, it was painkillers and another pack of bandages that were pulled out.

Dawn: Bear it just a little more. Soon the pain will end.

By injecting the drug and starting to fix the shoulder, Mercy was finally able to afford unnecessary thoughts. The manner of thinking developed by time and continuous work did not allow to be distracted or think about something else during operations or medical manipulations.

The burning determination to help someone else quickly faded as Dawn looked around. The bodies simply disappeared into the darkness of the corridor, which seemed endless. In addition to the wheezing of the wounded girl, the space was filled with an all-consuming silence. It seemed that in the abyss Mercy could hear the beating of someone else's heart, but it wasn't true.

How long will she have to go to check on everyone? Will there be any point in doing it? Examining the surroundings, she noticed that severe and fatal wounds were striking. Even with non-working prosthetic legs and a wounded arm, the girl was really lucky.

“Are you... One of ours?”

Apparently, the drug began to act. The girl no longer gritted her teeth and seemed relatively calm.

Only the question squeezed out of the girl's chest stuck in Dawn's head. ʼOf oursʼ? The only thing Dawn was sure of was that she was an employee of the Becile Industries. If there are so-called ʼoursʼ and ʼnot oursʼ among the workers, then Mercy successfully passed by the sorting hat throughout the year.

The victim saw the doctor's confusion and simply brushed off her silent question.

“Go away... You mustn't get into it.”

The girl forcefully closed her dried eyes, took more oxygen into her chest and threw her head back. Pain and anxiety gave way to fatigue. Whatever her fate is, it was inevitable. Is that why the girl let go of Dawn so calmly? The only living person willing to help?

Still, Mercy didn't know what she was getting into, and the weight of the adhering dirt was already weighing on her body. Dawn had a lot of questions, a lot of variations in the development of events: maybe people with guns would come back and kill them, or maybe others would come and fight back? But everything revolved around one word ʼmaybeʼ.

The likelihood that no one will know about her presence is so big that the most sensible decision was to leave. To just run away, and as soon as possible.

Dawn rose to her feet in an instant and disappeared just as quickly into the darkness. Without hesitation, she slipped into the darkness and disappeared like a vision. And the wounded girl had nothing but to peer into the void, looking for the outlines of a long white robe. She still had hope. No one in their right mind would want to die, especially here, especially now, especially alone; but the poor fellow had already let go of his bird.

There was nothing to wait for and her eyes began to close. Her eyelids were heavy, either from fatigue or from drowsiness. She can take a little break, just a little.

“Hey! Now's not the best time to sleep!”

It was a woman's voice. Is Dawn back? She's really back! The tall silhouette appeared as soon as it disappeared, holding a box filled with tools.

Dawn: So listen here. Let's take off the dentures and I'll carry you. Whether I'm 'yours' or 'their' is my problem.

The girl looked at the doctor with a sad look, clearly regretting, sympathizing, but didn't contradict.

At the moment, Dawn was bothered by too many questions to which she clearly wouldn't be able to get a concise and clear answer. If everything was thoroughly simple, then their own wouldn't kill their own, as in a slaughterhouse.

The doctor began to detach the robotic legs and, sensibly assessing her physical abilities, removed the functioning arm. Prostheses can always be replaced, new ones can be attached. There's nothing wrong with losing one of them.

Without the metal, the victim was quite light, the only discomfort was in carrying her around. Dawn had to improvise and use her doctor's gown so she was able to fix the girl on her back.

Looking at the bodies more closely, Mercy noticed the metal, too. On their legs, arms, eyes, mouths, necks, you name it. Did they all really need these prostheses so much? Yes, they can be useful and comfortable, but to lose tactility, a healthy part of your body to just put them? Dawn didn't understand this. Jaw prostheses were at least impractical and deprived the mouth of the simplest functions. And somewhere the weight from the metal was completely distributed incorrectly, from which the spine suffered, and if only the arms were replaced, then the legs could also suffer. The doctor could reflect on this for a long time, reluctantly finding more minuses than pluses. Dawn didn't understand this. Jaw prostheses were impractical and deprived the mouth of the simplest functions. And somewhere the weight from the metal was completely distributed incorrectly, from which the spine suffered, and if the arms were replaced, then the legs would also suffer. The doctor could reflect on this for a long time, reluctantly finding more cons than pros.

Dawn: Why do you all have these prostheses?

The girl didn't react to the asked question, as if she didn't hear it at all. She didn't look around. At the very beginning, she buried her head in her shoulder and diligently covered her eyes, just not to become a witness to what had happened again.

In the meantime, the bodies were running out, a couple more steps and everything would be left somewhere behind. If she's lucky, then in the upcoming future, Dawn won't have to regret either her actions or decisions.

Dawn: Usually I ask for the name right away, so... Can I know it at least now?

Such a simple question turned out to be unexpected. The reluctantly wounded girl raised her head, but the corridor was already empty. If she doesn't look back, the terrible life episode will seem to be over.

“Alice... Just Al--...”

There was a sound. Dawn was ready to run, but then her brain stopped her. She quickly came to her senses. She stood and listened, waiting for the noise to repeat.

A sound, or rather a murmur, came somewhere behind, very close. Mercy didn't want to linger, didn't even want to look back, but it was worth checking to find out what the chances of saving a life were. And Alice apparently didn't mind.

It was a ginger man whose hair and face had long been filled with red. The bullet hit the head.

Dawn felt pain near her temple. He won't do it. Too much time has passed. As soon as she got closer, her legs slipped. Something wet and still warm squelched under her feet, sticking to her shoes with a stranglehold. The floor around it was completely flooded.

Without understanding why Dawn untied Alice from herself, placing her in the opposite of her, and set to work. He was still alive, mumbling something indistinct and wasting all his strength just to not lose consciousness. Doesn't he deserve at least a little attempt? And if she manages to stop the blood, then it'll be possible to drag and save two lives.

Staying clean was hard. Her hands smeared in blood every now and then and the funds in the first-aid kit weren't enough to the point of bitterness. She had to use everything that played under her hand. Her own robe was long enough to tear off part of the hem and use it to stop the bleeding.

“Today... ”

Now it was possible to catch jerky words from his slurred speech, but this wasn't a sign of improvement of his condition. The man still didn't respond to Dawn's voice and reacted poorly to external incentives. He was still pale and weak, and a gray-red liquid flowed from his nose.

“... must take them out...”

It was necessary to somehow drag the two victims away and the question wasn't about Dawn's physical abilities, but about the carrying capacity of the robe. She had to go even further back and pull off the clothes of the dead.

“We've been waiting so long...”

Alice was still on Dawn's back, and the man was firmly fixated in a sitting position in a pair of jackets and dragged along the floor. Fully blooded shoes had to be removed.

“Annabel.”

The last word that is firmly ingrained in the walls of this corridor. Everyone knew it except Dawn. Will it remain within these walls or will it disappear at the first breath of wind, as soon as the authorities find new workers? Alice didn't want to believe it, but it would take time before the documents arrived.

Alice: Cyborgs. Industries has done all of this to us...

[n3on-graveston3s-calling]

I'm gonna answer these both right now.

These have been sitting in my ask box for a few days and admittedly, I was just gonna let them rot there but.

Let's talk.

I write in my spare time. I don't get paid to write fanfictions ( unless they are commissioned pieces, which are all on a hold for the foreseeable future ), imagines, etc. It's something I do when I have the time & I have the muse to do so.

Why haven't I been writing as much?

-I suffered 2 major deaths in my family literally 2 weeks apart from each other. The first one, I was in vacation in another state & had to cut it short, turn around, and drive 1600 miles in 3 days to go home, pick up my family, drive to my other family, have the funeral, go through a tornado outbreak that same night while staying in a hotel & having nowhere to go, find out that some of my relatives houses were damaged & the city they lived in had been majorly damaged by the tornadoes, and then drive home. And then, 2 weeks later, there's another death on the other side of my family. So my summer was spent grieving and in funerals.

-Prior to that, I have depression!! I had a depressive episode that lasted for a hot minute where I didn't do anything!!

-NOW, I got a new job & am back to work for the first time in 1 year and 8 months. It took me a year and eight months to find a job that is nowhere even near my degree field. Wild shit. Anyways. My new job takes a LOT of mental strength. I work as an attorney's assistant. I work Wednesday & Thursday, all day. Fridays are my half days. Which doesn't sound bad!! Except I have a stack of things I have to file that is nearly 200 pages deep bc there was a gap between the person before me leaving & when I started that they got behind. So I'm busy 20 hours a week. & what I handle can be VERY emotionally hard, as I've recently found out. I can't share details bc privacy laws- but I have to read some not great shit.

-In the 4 days that I have off, I help my mother. I'm a partial caretaker for her; I do all of the grocery runs & doctor appointments in those spare times.

So. Yknow. I enjoy writing, I have requests that I've been working on & things in my drafts that I do work on in my free time, but like. I have a life, yknow? And I know everyone has shit going on in their personal lives, I get that. I know fanfiction & fandom is an escape.

But I'm just a person. I have a partner who I try to spend as much time as possible with bc we're long distance. There's a lot more happening that I'm not gonna talk about here because quite frankly- it isn't anyone's business.

I love writing. I love making fanfiction and I love writing requests but y'all have got to stop treating us writers like your personal fiction creators that exist only for your beck & call. Bc I've seen that happen a LOT over the last few years. Majority of us do this for free because we enjoy it. That's it.

So yeah. I will post when I have something done or if I have any silly little thoughts I wanna share about whichever character is taking up space in my brain.

K thanks bye.

[casspurrjoybell-27]

In a Heartbeat - Chapter 45 - Part 1

*Warning - Adult Content*

Simon

Despite sharing eerily identical features, Michael was Vince's polar opposite.

Very straight-forward, sure of himself and from what I've seen, far more empathetic with people than Vince tried to be.

Of course, that didn't mean Vince couldn't be those things but it was refreshing to be around someone that genuinely knew what they wanted and as much as I wanted to believe Vince and understand his concerns, I had no reason to believe Michael was in fact a bad person.

I mean Michael had done more for me the last week than Vince had ever done his entire life.

"So, tell me," Michael said after the waitress left the breadbasket.

He grabbed a slice of bread, buttering one side.

"How has my brother been treating you? I've been so busy with things, I feel like I haven't been able to check up on you."

"Well," I thought about it.

Aside from our arguments, it wasn't like he was terrible.

Compared to a few weeks ago, or even to back then, Vince had been a bit nicer and this morning had been pleasant, the fact he decided to stay and sit next to me was a far cry from what he would've done when I first came back.

"Bread?"

Michael held out a buttered roll to me.

I mumbled my thanks before answering.

"He's gotten better."

He grinned.

"Well, that's good to hear. He's not as heartless as I thought."

I gave him an inquisitive look, to which he chuckled.

"I'm kidding, mostly but seriously, I'm glad he's starting to understand how important the bond is. It seems like you two were really feeling it when I walked in."

I took another bite of the bread before humming.

"I guess. His wolf hasn't surfaced though and I don't think it's great that he lowered his dose so quickly."

The waitress came by with our drinks, Michael giving our order, before walking away.

He smiled softly before replying.

"That's concerning. Has he had any withdrawals?"

"I don't think so," I frowned.

"But then again, he tends to avoid me these days. We barely talk to each other, let alone stay in the same room."

I continued...

"I don't know. Maybe he's just swamped with work, like he said but I wish he'd just slow down and relax. It's like once something is happening between us, he suddenly realizes something and walks away as if hadn't happened."

Michael hummed before raising his glass of water to his mouth.

"What do you think he realizes?"

"I wish I knew," I sighed.

"But it's like he's trying to rush the process and as much as I want to be mates with him, I don't think he knows what he wants."

"Like his wolf subconsciously wants one thing, and Vince wants another?"

"Maybe. I don't know."

I frowned.

"I mean that would make sense, I guess."

The waitress came by with our pasta dishes. Michael swirled his fork around before replying...

"Well, I would be careful. Even if his wolf wants you, Vince should be on the same page. I'd hate for you to go through with anything if Vince wants something different. Especially if all he has his eyes on is the title."

I blinked, staring down at my dish.

"You think he'd do that?"

Michael took another bite of pasta before shaking his head.

"After the way I saw him with you this morning, I doubt it but there's still a possibility that that could be why he's rushing the process. I'd just be cautious."

I knew that could have been a possibility when I first came back but now I feared what kind of odds were stacked against us, against me and looking back on how I didn't really care what he thought or what Vince wanted, it mattered a great deal now.

Despite everything I've been through, I couldn't help but feel that this would've hurt worse if he was just using me for the title.

That everything Aspen, Sarah and the others warned me about were true all along but I guess I just had to trust Vince, trust that he was feeling something, that the Moon Goddess had been right to pair us all along.

I mean he had felt the bond, even went as far to look for me, so it must've meant something right?

"Well, feel free to tell me if he's having any withdrawals or causing you problems, I'm sure we could convince him to go easy on the process. Lowering his dose like that can be quite detrimental and would most likely hurt you in the process as well if he's not careful."

I nodded, still overthinking everything. Michael seemed to notice how lost in thought I was when he placed his hand on mine.

"Let's not think too negatively," he smiled.

"Your food's getting cold, love."

"Yeah, you're right."

I returned the smile, before taking a bite out of the Fettuccine Alfredo.

It had been a long time since I ate out at a restaurant like this, most places Aspen and I went to were all-you-can-eat places, fast-food, or we'd make our own.

"You want to know something silly?" I asked him after about halfway with my dish.

"I don't even really know anything about Vince. Like his favorite color, food, beverage of choice or even what movie or television shows he likes."

He let out a short laugh.

"Well, I would help you out,but my knowledge of my brother only extends to a certain age. His palate has probably changed since I've been back but if you must know, he was actually a fan of the color purple as a kid. He'd insist it was only lavender that he liked but honestly, he'd color everything bright purple in those children's coloring books. He was also a sucker for Sprite and fruit punch."

"I feel like those were always a kid's favorite."

"He even liked Barney," Michael chuckled.

"It must've been the purple."

"That's hard to imagine Vince watching that nowadays."

Michael smiled before returning to his dish.

"I do remember him enjoying our mother's carbonara dish. It was the one thing mom enjoyed making for us."

I finished the last bit of pasta before glancing at the menu, finding that the restaurant did in fact serve it.

"I'll order him a serving, if that's alright?"

"Of course," Michael said, waving down the waitress.

"I'm sure he'll appreciate it."

[john3vanmba]

New Road, Old Street

So, in one of our classes in Lasallian Business Leadership, Ethics, and CSR, we were asked to write our own life plan. This should cover at least cover the next 25 years of our lives; you heard that right, a quarter of a century!

Thinking back, I realized that I never really have a long-term goal in my life. In the last decade, after finishing my undergraduate degree as an Electrical Engineer, I just go to the office, do my job and go home. I am saving money here and there but I was not able to think yet of what I’m going to do with the amount that I am saving. I just think that at least I have a good amount in times of emergency or any unfavorable crisis.

In our write up about our life plans, we were tasked to cover at least our family goals, career aims, education, attitude, financial planning, physical and social well-being, artistic craft, public service and some pleasure. The parts were originally listed alphabetically but I ordered them as such because that’s the order of my priorities with family and career-oriented goals being on top.

Family-wise, my goal is to have my father have a comfortable life for the remaining of his life. Although both my sisters have good careers and earn good money, I also want my sisters to have good family life together with their children and husband; so, I intent to help them when necessary.

When it comes to my career and education. I am taking this MBA course to tackle both because I think they’re interconnected. Hopefully, this MBA program improve and smoothen the road to my corporate world journey. I wish to become a CFO someday; it’s going to be difficult but there’s no harm in trying.

Currently, I only have a few hundred thousand pesos in my bank account and an old car as my main assets and no liabilities, fortunately. I plan to save more and invest a few so I can hopefully have stacks in the future. All the remaining aspects are all bonuses but all those mentioned will be taking the front seat in my priorities.

I have re-read what I have written and submitted to Miss Pia. This is the same conclusion I put in the quarter century life plan, but I’m happy our professor required us to do that assignment as it made me draw a clear street that I will walk through in the next 25 years. It's remarkable how the assignment, mandated by our teacher, has proven to be instrumental in providing me with a clear roadmap for the next 25 years of my life. Through this exercise, I've come to recognize the critical importance of discerning between my wants and needs, which is a fundamental step in shaping my individuality and of course, for me to have a brighter future, not just selfishly but for everyone I love. It has become evident that this self-awareness is key to navigating the complexities of life effectively. Also, thanks to this activity, I've also been reminded of the invaluable role faith plays in our journey. Acknowledging the presence of the Guy upstairs, I have found comfort in the belief that He will guide me and help me build my own success. It's a reassuring notion that, amidst life's trials and tribulations, we are not alone. All that's required of us is patience, coupled with faith in the benevolent forces that govern our universe. I also realized that you need all aspects mentioned to be generally successful in life. Life is not just having plenty of assets, it is about your journey in this world and that there is God to help us; we just need to be patient and believe in him.