#although this one had some good stuff with SolidS

[bonelyheartsclub]

♡ Red - Valentine's One-Shot ♡

Written by @/ChrysanStarset and @/punkuuo

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It was the day before Valentine’s Day, and you decided to bake something nice for Red. You weren’t exactly as skilled as Red, but it was the thought that counted. So, whilst gathering all the ingredients, you decided that making a few cookies would be a nice gesture to share with everyone; although, you did plan to make some special sugar cookies just for Red’s bag.

Most of the day was spent preparing the bags, decorations, and different types of cookies, ensuring everything was neat and ready. By late afternoon, all that was left was to decorate Red’s share.

You started carefully piping his cookies as you thought of all the fond memories you had shared with him since he moved in. Each motion of your hand was slow and calculated as the warmth in your heart grew. Carefully, you piped the last heart onto one, and leaned back to admire your handiwork. Each cookie was decorated in the most ridiculously, cutest way possible; filled with pink, tiny hearts, smiling faces, and bunnies. You chuckled to yourself as you could almost hear Red’s reaction to them.

Satisfied with a long day’s work, you packed Red’s cookies into a small bag, tying it off with a ribbon. With everything prepared for tomorrow, you headed off to bed, excited for how the day would turn out.

The next day was a bright Valentine’s Day morning. You packed your gifts into your bag and made your way to the skeleton house. The air was crisp and light, just like your heart was as you thought about how Red would react to your baking. You knocked on the door, wondering who would be the first to receive your gifts. Turns out it’s Sans, who looked at you as if he already knew you were coming.

“good morning.” “Good morning Sans, it’s nice that you’re the first one I get to see!” “is that so?” 

You dug into your bag and gave Sans his goodie bag, “Here, a gift for you on Valentine’s day! I’m not sure if you’ve received any gifts yet, but I’m giving everyone some treats today.”

“i haven’t gotten one yet so thanks.” “You’re welcome! Can I come inside? I want to give everyone else their gifts too!” “heh, sure. i’m sure you want to see a certain someone as well. he’s in the kitchen.”

You nodded as your face heated for a moment, “Thank you, Sans.” You headed inside and, sure enough, there was something cooking in the kitchen… or baking…? A rich, buttery scent of baked goods wafted in, as well as something strange; it was as if there was something being awfully burnt. You ran to the kitchen to see what could possibly have gone wrong. Red was standing around the counter with a frustrated expression across his face. He hadn’t noticed you yet as he turned his back, but you could see his sleeves had been rolled up, flour dusted across his hands and cheek along with some chocolate. He grumbled angrily to himself, and it’s then that you saw the source of his frustration; a layered chocolate cake –or… what remained of it– had turned charred and concrete. After setting the tray on the stove, he turned and noticed you.

Caught off guard, he coughed and blushed, “wha- whatcha doin’ here, sweetheart?” 

You smiled as he was sweating nervously, obviously trying to play it off cool. 

“Well, it’s Valentine's day silly, I’m delivering gifts for a few people. Now what are you doing here?”

“nothin’. ain’t nothin’ goin’ on here. just... kitchen stuff.” 

Your eyes flickered to the poor, unfortunate cake that looked more like a solid block of charcoal than anything edible. 

“Uh-huh. Kitchen stuff, huh?” 

His blush deepened as he ran a hand down his face, only managing to smear more flour onto his cheek.

He groaned, “alright, alright! ya caught me, sweetheart.” A sigh left him, “i, uh… was tryin’ to bake somethin’ fer ya.” He rubbed the back of his skull. “normally i’m not this horrible, but i dunno what happened…” A bit of shyness seeped into his voice as he spoke, “i guess i kinda got lost in thought.” A smile crept up on your cheeks as you walked closer, inspecting his burnt cake. A bunch of decorations were scattered around the counter, and the recipe book was opened on a page for layered cake. You could tell from the mess that he was trying.

You sighed and gave him a hug, “I appreciate the gesture, I can tell you really put a lot of effort on it.”

“well…pardon my french but it looks like a pile of sh–”

“–shweet delicious goodness?” you quickly countered with a grin.

“somethin’ like that.” His face was lightly dusted scarlet as he put a hand on his hip, the other trying to nudge the cake towards the trash.

“Hey wait- why are you throwing it away?”

“it’s burnt, there’s no way you could eat this.”

You tried to pull the pan back before he chuckled, pulling you back by your hip.

“no, you’ll get sick if ya eat it… also careful, s’ hot still.”

You nodded, feeling his warm phalanges pull away from the side of your waist. 

“There must be a way to save it still, you worked so hard on it. It’d be a waste…” You sighed, rubbing your chin before you clapped your hands together, “oh wait, I got it!”

You rummaged through the drawers, pulling out a knife and spatula. Red’s bony face seemed to contort in confusion as he hovered behind you.

“not that i don’t ‘ppreciate your determination, sweetheart; but if ya eat that, i promise you, you will regret it later.” 

He cracked a small chuckle as you bumped him with your hip to get some elbow room.

“Just watch, hold on!” you insisted.

You started to saw off the burnt parts, haphazardly putting the scraps into a different bowl. He perked up, trying to intrude, but ultimately waited and gathered a few stray bowls and utensils into the sink as you work. It wasn’t long before you moved aside to reveal the cake. Red looks at it, his bonebrow raised and nodded, trying to cover his obvious concern. 

Voila! You successfully made an even more unappetizing cake, but now cut into weird chunks…

“no offense, but… it looks like a bear got hungry.” Red muttered.

“No-no- wait, hear me out- we can turn these into cake pops! Just gotta mix it with frosting, chill the dough, mold ‘em into spheres, add a bit of chocolate and sprinkles, and boom – they’re still edible!”

“yeah?” He asked in surprise, almost hopeful that his Valentine’s gift wasn’t going to be a complete disaster after all.

“Yeah!” You chirped and the two of you got to work.

Red couldn’t help but smile, his initial nerves and discomfort seeming to melt away as you both got comfortable in the kitchen, moving in sync to make the cake pops. He helped stir in the frosting as you crumbled the cake. Then, with the small ice cream scoop in hand,  you scooped the dough into little balls before Red whisked them into the fridge.

Afterwards, your hands scrubbed at the bowls, washing the dishes as he wiped the counters and opened the window to air out the burning smell. He cleared the trash as you finished drying your hands. After some time passed, Red washed and dried his hands before pulling the cake pops out. 

Finally ready to decorate, he dipped the cake into the melted chocolate, a curtain of excess chocolate falling off as he gently turned it in his hand before passing it to you. You sprinkled on heart candies and sugar crystals before putting the cake pop on a piece of wax paper to dry. By the end of the little baking extravaganza, you were now also a mess covered in a bit of frosting, sprinkles and chocolate. 

“Nice! We saved the city!” you exclaimed.

“what? wait- you got a little something right there.”

You rubbed your face, and looked back at him with a confused look.

“nah, s’right here.”

His fingers gently rubbed away some chocolate on your chin as you leaned down, making it easier for him to reach. You didn’t realize how close you both had gotten until Red stopped suddenly, his eyelights turning into pinpricks and his cheekbones warmed into a pretty crimson. He pulled away and wiped the chocolate on a rag before turning to you. 

You coughed into your hand, shaking off the heat warming your face. “So uh… ready to eat some nuggets of cake?”

He choked, his struggling wheeze quickly turning into a chuckle, “not when you say it like that.”

“Fine, fine. Lets just dig in!” 

You gingerly picked one up and took a bite – it tasted great, the traces of charred dough having been long covered up by the chocolate and frosting. It was moist and perfect, you gasped softly as you looked at him excitedly; he looked almost surprised by the taste.

“Oh yeah, I’m stealing all of these.” You did a little dance as you ate, enjoying the cake pop.

He laughed a bit, joining in on the jig as you both just happy-wiggled at your creation. 

“good luck, ‘m stealing a couple fer myself.”

“I thought you were baking it for me!” You gasped in mock offense.

He paused for a moment, “they’re our cake pops now.”

You bit into one and tried to look as annoyed as possible, but he only relished in your reactions as you both ate and goofed off in the kitchen. You remembered the cookies in your bag, so you went to grab them, and bring them to your skeleton. He stopped chewing as he took the goodies from your hands.

“ya brought me a valentine’s gift?” 

His voice seemed to waver as you nodded, gesturing for him to try it. He flashed you a crooked smile, his sharp teeth grew even wider as he pulled the bag apart gently.

He looked at the cookies, baked with obvious care and… love. He looked at you again, and you couldn’t help your own face beginning to warm up as you greatly anticipated his reaction. He turned one of the treats around in his hand, appreciating the neat frosting, and took a big chomp with his teeth. The cookie went down smoothly despite the lack of an esophagus, and the entire thing was gone in a matter of seconds.

His genuine smile said it all as you watched him go for another. You couldn’t help but sigh in relief as he ate while you grabbed another cake pop. The both of you enjoyed the ambience of the warm kitchen. The aroma of sweets brought you both closer as you packed up a few cake pops to go, leaving a few for him and his cousins to try later. 

The evening rolled by as you headed out, carrying a mixture of treats from every skeleton in the household. You scrambled to, at the last minute, pass out the other cookies you made for each of them, and Red couldn’t help but notice… that you had only made special cookies for him.

You were on your way out after saying your goodbyes to each skeleton, giving them hugs before you pulled away. You said goodbye to Red as he held the door open for you. As you started to step away, you felt phalanges slip into your hand, intertwined with your fingers. You stopped and turned to face Red.

“Red?”

“i - uh, sweetheart, thanks… fer saving the cake, and fer the cookies. happy valentine’s day.”

You smiled warmly at him, feeling your heart beating a bit harder and faster. You couldn’t quite place if it was just all the sugar, or something else making you feel like running a lap around the corner. 

“You’re welcome, thank you too… for baking me something. You’re so sweet.”

His smile was warm before he realized, “i- was that a pun?”

You laughed and squeezed his hand gently and his eyes softened and his shoulders relaxed. 

“Would.. you like to walk me home?” you asked softly.

“i’d love nothin’ more than to cake you home,” he replied with a wink.

The two of you walked back to your house right across the street, the crisp air cooling you. Soon after, you stopped at your doorstep. He looked at you, almost sad to let go of your hand as you jangled the keys out of your pocket and opened the door. You turned back to him, his hands now shoved in his pockets.

“Thanks for walking me back, Red.”

“s’no problem, sweetheart, have a good night.”

“You too…”

The two of you stood there for a few moments; despite the silence, it was… comfortable. You swore you could feel your heart knocking against your chest as he slowly turned to walk back, his shoes dragging along the sidewalk. With a moment of confidence, you lurched forward and grabbed his hand, and he looked back surprised as you leaned in to give him a peck on the cheek. His face was deceptively cool despite his growing blush.

“T-That’s for walking me back.”

You never thought you’d see a skeleton as red as a tomato, but there you were watching him momentarily stunned and flustered as he tried to ‘keep his cool’.

“heh..heh.. i should walk ya back more often, then.”

You smiled and pulled away, scurrying behind your opened door before he could notice your own face dying of heat. 

“You can try, ya goof.” You waved him goodbye as he walked away, waving back. 

You couldn’t help but notice the goofy grin on his face as he gently touched his cheekbone where you kissed. You shut the door, dashing to your room. As the excitement finally settled, you lay in bed, ready for the next time you’d see Red.

[droaxa]

✧ tags: yandere cheater x reader pt. 2

✧ warnings: violence and force, yandere behavior, descriptions of dismemberment, blood, stalking, police, nsfw content, kissing, angst, smut, breaking in, attempted murder, cuts, dead dove, probably more stuff

✧ a/n: my most requested fic at the moment! i decided to take some of your suggestions and add my own twist at the end + yandere name reveal!

part 1 - part 2 - part 3

yandere cheater wrestles you into his car after he drags you outta the cafe you’re in, unyielding as you try to pull away. the second he shuts the door and jets to the drivers side, you force yourself out the door and sprint down the street.

you hear his yells as you increase your speed, you knew you wouldn’t be able to outrun him for long. not only was he more athletic than you, but a look back revealed his terrifying expression. he was clearly set on catching you, having the advantage in his relatively relaxed clothing opposed to you, who was dressed for a date.

knowing you couldn’t beat him you came to a sudden stop of to the side of the sidewalk and he rammed into your side. stumbling back a few steps you stopped him. eyes wide and hair blown back, he looks at you mildly surprised.

“wha-” you interrupt him this time, taking advantage of his surprise by slapping a hand over his mouth.

you bring on an expression that you think is intimidating, “leave me the fuck alone, i don’t know what the hell you want but i’m not taking you back”

he scoffs like he has you all figured out, taking your hand off his mouth to reveal a smirk underneath. “guess mother dear will find out about your… escapades then”

smack!

you slap him across the face sharply, sound reverberating around you and leaving a tinge of red on his cheek. his mouth gapes as he looks back at you even more surprised, what happened to the mild mannered girl who he had cheated on dated?

“release those anywhere and i will fuck up your life asshole” you fume, hand still in the air as if to threaten him for another slap. “you’re the one that decided to cheat on me with every girl we knew. fucking own up to it”

you were sick of his shit, who did he think he was? you huff out a quiet fuck off as you pass him, shoulder bumping against his. as soon as you rounded the corner you sprint to a nearby parked cab, slamming the door on your way in.

“to the university dorms please”

yandere cheater runs after you too late, rounding the corner as you take off in the cab. poor baby, you were still hung up on him cheating? he didn’t even really like those girls anyway, they weren’t good for anything except their bodies.

but you, you were it for him. he’d do anything to see your cute smile again, to see you whimper on his cock. he felt his swollen cheek, your anger may come in the way of him proving his love, but you’d understand in the end. how deep his love ran. all he had to do was prove was that those girls meant nothing.

two weeks had passed, two long peaceful weeks. your ex finally seemed to give up, the barrage of text messages and calls diminishing to radio silence and constant gifts at your doorstep suddenly stopping. maybe you were more intimidating than you thought.

the second you got home after the encounter, you had called your mother and explained everything. although she did yell at you for a solid hour due her disappointment in you sending out explicit photos of yourself, she understood your situation. after giving her instructions on blocking your ex if he tried to reach out to her you were finally at a peace of mind. at a zen. maybe you could turn a new leaf, you deserved it.

of course you had fucking jinxed it, just when you finally thought it was all over, your ex had tried to force himself back in your life again. deep down, you knew he wouldn’t give up that easy. he’d always be stubborn to a fault.

two weeks after the encounter a small navy present box appeared in from of your new dorm room door. still groggy with sleep you rubbed your eyes and picked up the box, bringing it inside. after contemplating for a minute, you finally decide to open it. in your sleep ridden state, you reasoned that it was probably something you’d left behind at your ex’s house.

it takes a minute to register the contents of the box, but when you do

“OH MY GOD”

you scream and stumble back.

two bloodshot green- brown eyes were pressed into the shiny white silk inside, the area around them a tinge of red. that alone could be passed off as a cruel prank by some immature students but the unmistakable metallic scent of blood lingering in the air said otherwise. that and the only other item in the plush silk: a silver bracelet with the initials ‘e.r’.

only one person you knew owned that bracelet and had those eyes, your ‘friend’ eva. but you had blocked and lost contact with her after you found her and your boyfriend together in the bathroom of the mall. there’s no way she would have just lost this bracelet either, you remembered her bragging about how it was permanent. being soldering together around her hand.

you were nauseous. oh god. you knew it was him, you just knew. sure you hated her but you didn’t want her to die. what the hell, what the fuck do you even do?

before you could think you grabbed your phone calling the only person you could think of.

“can you come over quick, please?”

20 minutes later a dark haired man rushed in through your front door, spotting you curled up in the corner. your eyes wide and still staring at the open box.

“(y/n) what’s going on?” he asks softly, approaching you slowly. you just point to the box and he takes a peek, immediately slapping a hand over his mouth as his eyes shoot open “fucking hell…”

you turn to him, eyes teary “ray what do we do?”

ray was your one real friend through everything your ex put you through, and ironically your ex’s older brother. he was one that introduced you to your ex and thus he blamed himself for letting him hurt you, even though you’d reassured him that you didn’t find him at any fault.

he was reliable and kind, a shoulder to lean on when things got tough. you’d known him for almost two years longer than your ex and honestly if you didn’t meet your ex, the small crash you harbored for ray may have grown. after you met you ex you assumed that your feelings for ray had naturally died out but you couldn’t lie about the strange biting feeling in your chest whenever you saw him.

and even now he was talking care of you, taking you to the police station to talk to the police and turning in the bloody present. a few hours later you both were back in your dorm, sitting on the edge of your bed as you discussed the situation.

“look i really appreciate all this, you didn’t have to come with me to the station”

he smiles, “anytime (y/n), if it’s for you”

you smile back, face a little warm from his answer “that’s sweet”

he moves a little closer, your pinkies now you touching. “you’re sweeter, my asshole brother doesn’t know what he missed out on.” and you swear that you see his eyes flicker to your lips.

“really?” you ask coyly, leaning in slightly.

he nods slightly hesitant “if i had a girlfriend like you i wouldn’t dare disrespect her like that, i-i mean you’re thoughtful and pretty and-” he gets cut off as you lean up and press your lips to his. he immediately freezes up and you take his response as rejection, pulling away. fuck, he was obviously just being nice who even likes their brothers ex?

“i’m so sorry i though-” before you can finish apologizing ray’s lips smash onto yours, one of his hands in your hair to pull you closer and the other guiding your lips to his by your chin. in between heated kisses he mumbles,

“god i was waiting for so long,” a kiss.

“prettiest girl i’ve ever met” another heated kiss. his words of longing slur as he continues to kiss you, pulling you ever closer. his plush lips trail down your neck and to your stomach, slender hand playing at your waistband. his hooded eyes look up at you as his other hand wanders under your shirt. “can i?”

you give him a shy nod and he smiles, pulling down your pajama shorts to reveal white cotton panties. you cover your face with your arm out of embarrassment and he reaches out, keeping your arm down.

“wann’ see your pretty face, waited for it” you nod meekly and he flashes his dimples, continuing to pull down your panties and throw them somewhere behind him. your cute cunt, glistening with arousal was right in front of his face. fuck. gliding a finger up the slit, he watches as the slick from your pussy coats it. fuck.

an hour later he was in heaven, or at least you felt like it. buried deep inside your wet cunt as you moaned and squirmed under him

“ngh- fuck, so good fa’ me baby”

this was the stuff of wet dreams. he speeds up as he feels his orgasm approaching, praises and grunts slipping from his lips as he slams his hips against yours. soft skin against muscle, hot breath on your face from where he was above you. finally he pulls out with groan, wanting to stay buried in your warm. spurts of warm cum shoot up your stomach as he finally finishes.

ray collapses beside you, both of you sweaty and nude as you bathe in the afterglow. weakly, you smile at his tired form as you close your eyes, drifting to sleep in your warm bed.

bang!

you wake up with a start, wearing a shirt too big to be yours. must be ray’s. you look around the dim room and reach for ray, feeling nothing in the space next to your body. did ray… leave? that couldn’t be right. your bare feet hit the wood floor as you step towards your lamp and turn on the light. nothing.

you look around the bedroom and then head to the kitchen, turning the corner and switching on the light. immediately the kitchen floods with light and you gasp. the floor was tracked with blood, a trail leading from where you stood to your bathroom. was he hurt?! you cautiously approach the bathroom, a sharp metallic scent dominates your nose as push open the half open door.

“took a while to wake up didn’t you sleepyhead?”

your blood runs cold. it was your ex boyfriend. if the crazed grin in his face wasn’t unsettling enough the blood smearing on his cheek and splattered across his body sent alarms going off inside you. looking behind him you see the source of all the red.

ray. deep cuts run down his body, clothes shredded, and body half submerged in the now murky red water of the tub. on the tile floor next to him was your kitchen knife, covered in blood. without missing a beat you turned and sprinted to your bed stand, searching for your phone. there’s no way you would make it to the door in time, you needed to call the police and at least save ray.

haphazardly searching your bed and nightstand, you still can’t find your phone. where is it?

“oh lookin’ for your phone?” you turn to him. in his hand was the aforementioned object, light pink case looking uncharacteristically cute opposed to his blood-ridden form. “you’re a pretty deep sleeper hon, i mean i was rummaging around right next to you for this and you didn’t even hear”

“what are you doing raph?” you ask terrified, slowly inching away from him.

in response he approaches you, “what do you think? my girl runs off on me and the next time i see her she’s fucking my brother. you tryna make me jealous baby?” he leans in, expression seemingly amused but you knew better. he was pissed.

“and you’re wearing his shirt too” his large hand plays with the round collar of the tee, fingers ghosting over your collarbones.

“take it off”

eyes wide, you look up at him, “no i won-”

“take it off or he dies” raph’s face is dead serious, no traces of amusement left, stare burning into your face. “you want him to live right? i’ll call the police as long as you take it off”

you hesitate then slowly peel off ray’s shirt, letting it fall to the floor. raph had seen your body before right? it was a small price to pay for saving rays life. the action left you in only your cotton panties as you tried to preserve your modesty with your hands.

raph lets out a low whistle and steps forward, pulling you closer by the curve of your waist. chucking as you shiver due to his cold touch

“already forgot i feel baby? might needa reteach ya”

you look away from him, refusing to see the smug expression playing on his face.

at that moment you felt a wave of self hatred crash over you, why couldn’t you do anything about this? were you so weak that you couldn’t protect yourself, much less ray? but who were you kidding, you weren’t faster or stronger than raph. there’s no way you could get out of this situation with both of you alive without giving into raph.

raph places a rough hand at your jaw, forcing you to look at him. unlike his brother his touch was demanding and rash, the only purpose of it being to prove that you were still his silly girl. no matter how hard you tried to run away.

he coos at your troubled expression “where’s all that fire from before huh?” he grins at your submissive state, the one that he caused. “i’ll be nice, put your own clothes on. quick.”

was he playing with you? you take a look at ray’s shirt on the floor and then approach your closet under a guise of calmness, but a look at your shaking hands would disprove your confidence. putting on a bra, followed by a bottom and a top, then outer wear. anything to put more layers between you and him.

a look up at him reveals that he was already looking at you, probably to stop you from pulling another trick on him. he leans down to whisper in your ear but instead decides to press his face into your neck, inhaling the sweet smell. he mutters, face still in your hair “god i missed you” the sincere tone in his voice scared you the most.

he pulls away, expression distant and somewhat melancholy. “you know if you acted like a good girl from the beginning i wouldn’t have to do this”

before you can question him, his open right hand presses against your face, hard. the other hand supports your head to stop you from pulling away, body trapped. the bitter smell of something pressed on the tissue between your face and his hand floods your senses.

for the second time that night all your senses dull, and everything goes dark.

a/n: i know i know you guys wanted reader to get away from him! i just though this was more interesting then the reader getting back at raph and getting away with it. i like to make my yanderes stubborn loll. hope you liked the twist might write a part 3 ^^

[shdysders]

a cold table

pairing: vada cavell & reader

summary: in which your anniversary with vada didn't turn out like it was supposed to.

word count: 4.8k

author’s note: proof reading this honestly just makes me throw a tantrum bc it’s ridiculously bad in my view. but i’m posting this in hopes of you liking it.

You and Vada were the epitome of "opposites attract."

On the surface, it seemed almost impossible that you two would end up together, let alone be the type of couple that made people smile just by looking at you.

Vada was the kind of girl who looked like she just grabbed her dad's clothes from the laundry basket and made it work. Putting together outfits that made no sense to anyone but her.

Oversized flannel shirts, baggy jeans and sneakers that had seen better days—she wore it all with an air of confidence that dared anyone to question her choices.

She didn't care about trends, and you couldn't imagine her spending more than five minutes deciding what to wear.

You however, were the opposite—always put together, wearing clothes that you knew looked good on you because you liked feeling confident and in control.

When it came to school, Vada was effortlessly good at everything she tried.

She could ace a test without studying, participate in class debates with barely any preparation, and somehow still find time to be the laid-back, carefree person everyone admired.

She had a mind that worked faster than most, but she didn't flaunt it.

You, on the other hand, had to work hard for your grades. School didn't come easily to you, but you cared enough to put in the effort.

You stayed up late studying, agonized over assignments, and took pride in every hard-earned B+ you received. Your determination was something Vada admired, even if she never said it out loud.

Although she would tease you about how seriously you took school, but when it came down to it, she'd show up for study sessions, sometimes even surprising you by actually helping.

And even though you weren't a natural at school, you made sure she didn't slack off too much, reminding her about deadlines and sometimes dragging her to the library when she'd rather be anywhere else.

Everyone at school saw how different you and Vada were. Some people were surprised when you first started dating, while others seemed to have seen it coming from a mile away.

Vada had a way of making you feel like you were the only person in the room, even when you were surrounded by people.

She listened to you, really listened, like your thoughts were the most important thing in the world. When you talked about your day, no matter how mundane, she would look at you with those deep, thoughtful eyes and nod along.

And you were always there for her, too. Vada might have been the laid-back one, but she had her moments of doubt, and you were the first person she'd turn to.

People noticed how you two balanced each other out. You didn't try to change one another, but you definitely influenced each other in subtle ways.

You brought some structure into Vada's life, and she taught you how to loosen up a bit. You didn't make a show of your relationship, but the way you naturally gravitated toward each other said a lot.

Everyone could see that, even if you didn't make a big deal out of it, you were good for each other.

And even though people didn't really talk about you and Vada much—there wasn't any drama, no on-again, off-again stuff.

You were just there, solid and steady, the kind of couple everyone figured would last. It was easy to imagine you two growing old together, the high school sweethearts who actually made it.

You thought so, too. For the longest time, it just felt like you and Vada were meant to be, that nothing could really shake what you had.

But that was before you started to doubt everything the two of you had.

Before the incident.

You were in the library that day, tucked away in a corner with your books spread out in front of you. Vada had class, and you were trying to focus on an assignment due the next day. It was just another ordinary afternoon, where everything felt routine and predictable.

Then, out of nowhere, you heard it—a loud, sharp sound that made you freeze.

At first, you couldn't quite place it, but then it happened again, and suddenly the room around you shifted.

The quiet murmur of students working turned into panicked whispers, and then, in what felt like seconds, chaos erupted.

Gunshots.

The next thing you knew, people were scrambling, and you were being pulled down to the floor by someone you didn't even know. Your heart was pounding so hard you thought it might burst. You could barely think, your mind racing with fear and confusion.

Meanwhile, Vada had been in the bathroom, just down the hall from where the first shots were fired. She wasn't alone—Mia, the popular girl everyone knew but no one really knew anything about, was there too.

When the first gunshot echoed through the halls, they both froze, their eyes wide with terror. Without a word, they rushed into the nearest stall together, instinctively pulling their feet up onto the toilet seat to stay hidden.

In the days that followed, everything felt like a blur.

The school was closed, news crews swarmed the area, and you were left trying to process what had happened. You tried to be there for Vada, but it was hard to know how.

She was different—quieter, more withdrawn, like she was lost in her own head. You wanted to help, to say something that would make it better, but nothing felt right. It was like a wall had gone up between you, and no matter what you did, you couldn't get through to her.

Vada barely talked about what happened in the bathroom with Mia.

When she did, her voice was flat, detached, like she was telling a story that had happened to someone else. She wouldn't look you in the eye, and that scared you more than anything.

You could see the fear and anger simmering under the surface, but she wouldn't let it out. She tried to act like everything was fine, but you could see the cracks forming.

You knew she was probably feeling a million things—guilt, fear, anger, maybe even shame for surviving when others hadn't. But she didn't talk about it, and you didn't know how to bring it up without making her shut down more.

Every time you reached out, it felt like she was slipping further away, retreating into a place you couldn't follow.

The carefree attitude that used to define her was gone, replaced by a tension that never seemed to leave. You noticed how she avoided certain hallways, how she liked to be alone now, and how she wouldn't talk about it. It was like she was trying to hold it all together, to not fall apart, but you could see how much it was costing her.

Vada didn't go back to school for a long time.

But eventually, you did go back due your parents forcing you. It wasn't easy, and you felt guilty every day.

The hallways felt different, quieter, like everyone was holding their breath. You went through the motions, trying to keep up with classes and pretending things were normal, but they weren't.

Not for you, and definitely not for Vada. It was hard walking into school every day, knowing she was at home, struggling with things you couldn't fully understand.

You tried to keep things normal, to talk about school, or movies, or anything that wasn't about what happened. But even then, you could feel the distance growing.

At first, the way Vada acted—or didn't act—around you didn't really matter. You understood she was going through something unimaginable.

You were patient, giving her the space she seemed to need, even when she seemed distant or didn't respond much.

What really caught you off guard wasn't the silence or the way she sometimes snapped at you, which you could understand given everything she was dealing with.

What hurt more was when Vada started disappearing.

You'd try to check in on her, but she was often unreachable, and you had this sinking feeling she wasn't just avoiding you—she was spending time with someone else.

You'd seen Mia post something on social media, little hints that made it clear Vada had been with her. It wasn't like you blamed her for needing someone who understood what she'd been through, but it stung all the same.

The fact that she was turning to Mia instead of you made the distance between you feel even wider, and that's when the doubt started to creep in. You knew she was hurting, but you couldn't help but wonder if this was the beginning of something you weren't prepared to face.

And as the days went on, Vada started staying out late, not telling you where she was or who she was with. The first time it happened, you tried not to worry too much, but it kept happening.

You wanted to talk to her, to see how she was really doing, but every time you tried, she seemed to slip further away.

Then, one night, you decided to go over to her house, hoping to finally have that conversation.

When she opened the door, you could immediately tell something was off. She was unsteady on her feet, her eyes a little glazed over, and you could smell the alcohol on her breath.

She was drunk, and it had shook you more than you expected. This wasn't like her at all.

You tried to ask her what was going on, why she was drinking, but she just brushed you off, slurring something about needing to forget for a while.

It worried you, seeing her like this, knowing that she was hurting so much that she felt the need to numb it with alcohol. You wanted to help her, to pull her back before she fell too deep, but she wasn't letting you in.

Even with everything going on, you held onto the hope that Vada wouldn't forget about your three-year anniversary. It was the one thing you thought might still matter, even with all the changes and distance between you.

Every year, you and Vada had always done something special to mark the day. It was your tradition—whether it was a simple picnic in the park or watching the stars from the roof of your house, it was always something that brought you closer together.

You thought that this anniversary might be a turning point, a chance for both of you to reconnect and maybe find some of what had been lost in the chaos.

You knew things weren't the same as before, but you hoped that this day would remind Vada of what you had, of how much you meant to each other.

You spent weeks planning something small but meaningful. Nothing too extravagant, just something that would show her you still cared deeply and that you wanted to make this work.

You spent weeks planning something small but meaningful. Nothing too extravagant, just something that would show her you still cared deeply and that you wanted to make this work.

You had arranged everything perfectly. After some careful planning, you talked to Vada's parents about your idea, suggesting that they and her little sister Amelia spend the night at Vada's grandmother's house.

You knew your own parents would never approve of the two of you having the house to yourselves on a school night, but Vada's parents were different.

They saw how much you meant to each other and, more importantly, how much Vada needed something to remind her of the good things in her life. They agreed without hesitation, eager to give you both the space you needed.

With the house to yourselves, you planned to cook dinner for her—nothing fancy, just her favorite comfort foods, something that would make her feel safe and loved.

You'd set the table in the dining room with candles, making it feel cozy and intimate.

After dinner, you were going to to watch the movie you saw on your first date. It was your way of trying to bring things back to the beginning, to remind her of who you both were before everything got so complicated.

You wanted the night to be perfect, not in some grand, over-the-top way, but in a way that would show Vada that you still believed in what you had together. This was your chance to reconnect, to pull her back from the distance that had grown between you, and you were determined to make it happen.

As the day got closer, you tried not to let your anxiety get the best of you. Vada had been distant, but you convinced yourself that she wouldn't let this day slip by.

This was your day, after all—the one day you could both take a break from everything else and just focus on each other. You were counting on it, needing it to bring you back together, at least for a little while.

The day finally came, and you had everything set up just the way you imagined.

You spent hours in the kitchen, carefully preparing all of Vada's favorite dishes. The table was set with candles, the lights dimmed just right to create that warm, intimate atmosphere. Everything was perfect, down to the last detail.

The whole thing was meant to be a surprise—you hadn't told Vada anything, just that she should come straight home after whatever she had planned for the day. You imagined her walking through the door, seeing the setup, and maybe, just maybe, something in her would shift back to how it used to be.

But as the minutes turned into hours, the excitement started to fade, replaced by a growing sense of worry.

Vada wasn't coming home.

You waited and waited, watching the food grow cold on the table. You tried calling her, messaging her, hoping for some kind of response, but there was nothing. Each time your phone stayed silent, your heart sank a little deeper.

You knew deep down that just waiting around probably wasn't the smartest idea. Maybe you should've told her, given her a heads-up so she could be sure to come home.

The hours passed and the house stayed empty, you couldn't ignore the sinking feeling in your chest. The night you'd planned so carefully, the night that was supposed to bring you closer, was slipping away, and with it, the hope you'd been clinging to.

You kept glancing at the clock, the numbers glowing dimly in the quiet room. It was nearly 11, and you were clinging to the hope that she'd come through the door any minute.

If she did, you'd just reheat the food, relight the candles, and try to salvage the night. It wasn't ideal, but you were ready to make the best of it.

Then, the front door creaked open, and Vada walked in. You jumped up immediately, eager to greet her.

When she saw you, her expression was a mix of surprise and something else you couldn't quite place. She looked at you weirdly, as if you were weird for being there.

She seemed off—her steps were unsteady, and there was a distant look in her eyes that made you worry.

"What... What are you doing here, Y/N?" she mumbled, her voice slurring slightly. She seemed distant, making you worry even more.

You tried to smile, but it felt stiff and uncertain. "Today's our three-year anniversary," you said, your voice filled with hesitation. "I was hoping we could spend some time together. You know, like we always do."

Vada let out a scoff and began to walk toward her room, her steps slow and uneven. She glanced at you with a weariness in her eyes, as if the effort to respond was too much. Her shoulders were slightly hunched, and she seemed to be struggling to focus on you.

"Do we really still care about this?"

It hit you harder than you expected. You tried to hold onto your initial excitement and positivity, but her tone made it hard to ignore the distance growing between you.

As she took those two steps toward her room, you felt a mix of disappointment and confusion, unsure how to reach out or fix what seemed to be slipping away.

Vada walked closer, and you could smell the strong scent of alcohol on her breath.

As she moved into the light, you noticed her eyes were red and puffy, and it was hard to tell if it was from crying or something else.

You hoped it was tears—something you could understand and help with. The thought of it being anything worse made your heart sink. You stood there, struggling to reconcile the image of her pain with the reality of what was happening.

You took a hesitant step forward and asked, "Are you drunk?"

Vada's face reddened with anger. "Are you seriously judging me right now?" she snapped.

You were taken aback by her reaction, and a wave of nervousness washed over you.

The fact that she was drunk only seemed to make everything worse.

You swallowed hard, trying to keep your voice steady, said, "No, I was just wondering where you've been. Have you been drinking alone?" Your words trailed off, unsure how to continue as you watched her closely, hoping she'd open up.

Vada's anger seemed to wane as she noticed your genuine concern. "I was with Mia," she said simply, her voice a bit softer.

You hesitated for a moment before asking, "Have you done drugs?"

Vada's face flushed with anger as she spun around, muttering, "Oh my god." She shot you a fierce look, clearly irritated.

You quickly followed her, trying to explain yourself. "I was just worried because you've been spending a lot of time with Mia, and I was just wondering what you two were up to. I didn't mean to... I just wanted to know." You felt yourself rambling, hoping she'd understand your concern.

You took a deep breath, trying to keep your emotions in check. "I just need to know if there's something more going on between you and Mia."

You knew the question was direct and might come off as rude, but you were desperate to understand what was happening.

You needed to know if this was the end for you both, if there was something significant you were missing.

Vada's eyes widened in surprise, her face flushing with a mix of anger and guilt. For a moment, she looked taken aback, as if the question had cut through a fog of confusion. Her response was immediate but hesitant,

"What are you talking about? There's nothing between us." But her tone betrayed a hint of uncertainty, leaving you more unsettled than before.

Your curiosity was driven by the fear that everything you had might be unraveling, and you were grasping at any answers that could provide clarity.

You were grasping for understanding, your voice trembling. "I don't know. It feels like you've just—"

Vada cut you off, voice loud enough to make you flinch. "Why do you always have to question everything?" she slurred, her speech thick and unsteady. "Just because we're dating doesn't mean you need to know everything I'm doing or feeling! I'm so fucking tired of you prying into every little thing!"

Her movements were uncoordinated; she stumbled slightly as she spoke, her balance wavering.

The alcohol and possibly drugs made her seem disconnected, her eyes glassy and unfocused. She swayed slightly as she continued, her anger barely masking the haze of her intoxication.

You struggled to keep calm, knowing her anger was intensified by the substances she'd consumed. "I didn't mean to pry," you said, your voice trembling. "I just wanted to understand what's happening with us."

Vada glared at you, her frustration still evident. "What, do you expect me to lay out every detail of my life for you?" she snapped, her voice laced with bitterness.

"Do you want me to explain my feelings all the time, like it's some kind of control?"

You shook your head, your voice trembling as you quietly replied, "No, that's not what I meant." Her words and actions seemed disjointed from what you were trying to address. Vada's gaze remained fixed on you, her anger unyielding and her eyes burning with frustration.

Her words and actions seemed disjointed from what you were trying to address.

You had only been seeking clarity about your relationship, not demanding control or constant explanations. Her response felt out of touch with your intentions, leaving you confused and hurt as you tried to make sense of her accusations.

You took a deep breath, your heart pounding in your chest, and asked, "What did you guys do?"

You didn't expect anything shocking or out of the ordinary. You just hoped she'd tell you they hung out, talked, maybe drank a little—nothing more.

You weren't trying to accuse her of anything; you just wanted to make sure they hadn't done something reckless or dangerous.

The thought of her putting herself in a risky situation was what really worried you.

That's why you asked—to ease the growing unease in your chest, to hear something that would put your mind at rest, and to reassure yourself that everything was still okay.

Vada's eyes flashed with irritation as she responded, "Nothing."

Her tone was dismissive, but you couldn't ignore the gnawing doubt inside you. You glanced at the clock on the wall, noting the time. "Vada, it's almost 11 a.m. You've been with her all night. Of course, you did something."

The air was thick with tension, almost suffocating. Vada's posture stiffened, her shoulders tensing as she tried to process your words. You could see her face flush, her mind clearly racing as she grappled with the confrontation.

She had always hated these kinds of direct confrontations, and it was evident she was struggling to come up with a believable excuse.

For a moment, there was a charged silence. You watched as Vada's gaze darted around, her eyes betraying her panic.

She opened her mouth, closed it, and then opened it again, her face a mixture of frustration and fear as she searched for a way to deflect or minimize the situation.

Her hands fidgeted at her sides, clenching and unclenching in a futile attempt to steady herself.

The silence dragged on, and you could almost see her internal struggle as she failed to come up with a satisfactory answer.

Her frustration began to bubble over, and her composure started to crack under the pressure. Finally, with a sharp intake of breath, she snapped.

"Fuck it," she burst out, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and desperation.

"I smoked weed with Mia, got high and I slept with her, alright? Is that what you'd like to hear?"

Her admission was blunt and raw, a revelation that she hadn't intended to make but couldn't hold back any longer. The anger in her eyes and the way her voice wavered revealed the depth of her frustration and the extent of her emotional turmoil.

Her voice was sharp, cutting through the air like a knife.

Her confession hit you like a punch to the gut. The words hung in the air, heavy and unyielding, and you could feel the room closing in around you.

The shock made it hard to breathe. You tried to stay calm but struggled to process what she'd just admitted. "You slept with her?" you repeated quietly, your voice trembling.

For a split second, you saw a flash of regret in Vada's eyes, as if she realized the weight of what she'd said.

Although that look quickly faded, replaced by her defensive stance.

The moment of vulnerability was brief, almost as if she was trying to erase it before you could fully grasp it. You were left reeling, trying to make sense of her sudden, raw honesty and what it meant for both of you.

Did she actually sleep with her? Or did she just say it out of anger or because she was under influence?

Mia had always been someone you thought was a friend to Vada, someone who was there for her in ways you couldn't be after everything that happened.

You never saw her as a threat, never imagined that Vada's connection with her could be something more than just two people sharing their trauma.

But after every late night that Vada seemed to spend with her,  the doubt had tightened its grip.

You thought you had tried so hard to be there for Vada, to break through the walls she had built up, but now it felt like those walls were never meant to let you in. They were meant to keep you out, while Mia was welcomed in.

The realization that Mia, the girl Vada used to mock for her obsession with popularity and appearances, could have become something more to her, stung.

Vada had always rolled her eyes at the way Mia cared about what people thought, about how she looked. It was something that made you believe Vada and Mia could never be more than friends.

But now, you couldn't help but wonder if all that bashing was just a cover, a way to hide the truth even from herself.

Had Vada's complaints been a way to deflect from feelings she didn't want to admit?

You could feel the tears welling up, your lips trembling uncontrollably. You didn't try to hide it, but it felt irrelevant since Vada seemed to look right through you.

Her gaze was unfocused, her pupils dilated, wide and glassy, as if she was barely seeing you. Her mouth was twisted into a slight, almost mocking smile that made your heart sink even further.

You hoped and prayed that she didn't actually found this funny.

You tried to convince yourself that she would regret this later, that she'd understand the pain she was causing, and that the real Vada—without the haze of alcohol and anger—would recognize how deeply she had hurt you.

But not even your hopes seemed to be on your side as Vada let out a heavy sigh, the anger seeming to drain from her as she suddenly looked exhausted.

"I'm going to bed," she mumbled, her voice still slurred, but now quieter, almost as if the fight had taken all the energy she had left.

She turned on her heel, swaying slightly as she started to walk away.

But then she paused, her hand gripping the edge of the wall for balance, and looked back at you with a cold, detached expression.

"And clean this shit up before my parents get home," she snapped, her voice filled with disgust as she gestured vaguely at the table where the dinner you had so carefully prepared now sat untouched, cold.

"It looks fucking ridiculous." She spat out, her words like shards of glass cutting through you.

You bit your lip hard enough to draw blood, feeling the sting as you glanced back at the table.

Her words echoed in your mind, and as you looked at the half-heartedly arranged candles and the untouched dinner, you had to admit—maybe she was right.

It did look ridiculous.

Without waiting for a response, Vada turned away, her frustration palpable as she stormed off toward her room. The silence that followed was heavy, the flickering candles casting long shadows that seemed to mock the effort you had put in.

You stood there, feeling like a stranger in a house you had once felt so welcomed in, like an outsider in a place you had imagined as your second home.

As you cleaned up like she told you to, the weight of what had just transpired settled heavily on your shoulders.

You packed the leftover food into containers, trying to salvage what you could for Vada's parents. Each movement felt mechanical, your hands moving on autopilot while your mind was consumed by a torrent of thoughts.

You sobbed quietly, tears falling onto the remnants of a dinner that was meant to celebrate love and commitment, that was meant to fix what you guys had.

It wasn't a formal breakup, but the reality was clear.

Vada's behavior, whether from being drunk or high, had made it clear that things between you were over, even if no formal words had been spoken.

There was so much left unsaid, so many questions swirling in your mind.

Although as you walked out the door of the Cavell house, you knew the answers no longer mattered.

[katsukikitten]

Men suck! So why not drain their bank accounts for wasting your time?! It would be foolish not to. Even more foolish to push the buttons of a very powerful man in the underground world of Tokyo.

But hey wait! He messaged you first! He wanted you to be his sugar baby so badly it makes him look stupid!

Although Bakugou Katsuki is anything but stupid.

It was supposed to be an easy mark. He followed all of the rules of the unspoken game between sugar baby and sugar daddy. He reached out to you first. He set the time and place for the first date and he asked about your pricing.

To which you told him was a steep two thousand consultation.

Immediately there was a notification with your fee plus a little extra for the expedited meeting in your bank account before he messaged you again.

Wear somethin nice.

His profile was vague as most marks were. Choosing to keep their identity a secret, embarrassed to have to buy a woman's time with their endless cash flow for one reason or another.

Some because of their looks, some their abhorrent attitude, some because they were too busy drowning in their work and some because they just couldn't be bothered for much of anything real only to fall in love after the third date thinking they could buy your heart like they did everything else.

Because at the end of the day all of these marks had something in common. Something to exploit.

They were all terribly lonely.

And despite how forward this mark is, like others have been before him, he was no exception to this rule.

You roll your eyes as you doll up for tonight's meeting. You always wore something nice and appropriate for the setting yet undeniably sexy. Something that made every eye rove over you with the heated gaze of envy. Something that made you everything those men wanted you to be.

A trophy, a status symbol, a yes I'm fucking that.

Scrolling his profile or lack thereof, a little bit more in an attempt to be his perfect baby girl. Knowing that to have a good long lasting con to afford you the luxuries you sat in now, you had to shed your true skin and stuff yourself into something two sizes too small.

Because all men expected that of all women. Of anything of their desire. One must cut away the truest, deepest parts of themselves in order to hold a man's attention span for longer than five minutes. The second you start to look anything relatively human and anything more than a walking sex kitten or cock sleeve is the second they lose interest.

A man often times doesn't want to actually fill the loneliness, not with anything long term, they just want to relieve the ache in their cock.

At least that's all you've ever known and so who was anyone to judge you to exploit them how they exploited others.

Smiling at your reflection as you apply dark eyeliner to your lid, dragging it across your lash line as you go for a more noire mysterious look since you cannot find out much about your potential benefactor. Not that that worried you, you'd worn many skins before.

A recently divorcee, a 'single mom', but most benefactors liked a heavy power imbalance. They lived for the broke college girl act. Showing up in threadbare dresses that were still cute in an old shit box car you'd borrow from a friend and some classical piece of literature those fucks could recognize but knew they'd never read.

Mostly you figured they enjoyed that broke college girl act because they felt they were "helping you build a solid future" all while neglecting their own real daughters at home that they constantly compared you to. Showed you pictures of, similar in age to you and you'd have to stamp down the disgust at these men who probably didn't even know their real baby girl's favorite color.

Absolving themselves of guilt you supposed.

However this new benefactor was something to be excited about, mostly because of the unknown that he seemed to shroud himself in. No interests filled in, no movies or hobbies or songs that he likes.

Not even a profile picture or his name. Just GZ for now and when you checked the banking information on your wire in, it didn't give you any real leads. Received from a business or estate account that google results had no address or number for.

Only his age, 32. Three years your senior.

Which wasn't too bad of a gap well to you anyway, he saw your age as 25 because anything older than that, even one fucking year, men's interest dropped by sixty percent.

Another message comes through the little app.

GZ: Give me your number.

Aggressively forward as you giggle to yourself reading the message, let the read receipts show your interest when you lock your phone and don't reply. Taking the time to apply a nice dark shade of lipstick that made your mouth absolutely sinful as you wore a skin much too close to the real you. Going to your closet for your dress, knowing he was taking you to a very expensive, very highly rated restaurant, most likely to both flaunt and prove he has money.

Zipping up the velvet body con dress with a halter top, the hem stopped just above the knee and you knew it would ride up when you sat down or walked in your black heels with the pearl strap. Pulling on bicep length lace gloves and putting on an onyx ring on your middle finger before adding your pearl necklace to make a suggestion of what he could do to you at the very steep price of seven thousand dollars.

Some men even paid it and even asked to do it in the parking causing them to pay an expedited fee of four thousand. It meant nothing to you and every bit of power they thought they held over you to them.

Opening a drawer to your vanity all with unused pairs of underwear. Choosing a black lacey pair where the ass would be half exposed by lace and strings digging around for the to go tide pen so you could lightly bleach the crotch to make it seem as if they'd been worn all damn day "just for him"

Fuckin gag me.

Your phone pings again, another notification from the SDSB app.

GZ: I don't like waiting, Sweetheart, give me your number.

This time you reply but only after looking over your outfit in the mirror, debating if he'd be into stockings and ripping them before you realize it might make you look a little too conservative for his tastes.

Bbgrl: tell me what GZ stands for and I'll give you those special digits

GZ: I don't barter

Bbgrl: Everything comes at a cost. You know this otherwise you wouldn't be messaging me.

You watch the bouncing bubbles pop up before his quick reply.

GZ: Ground Zero

GZ: Now give me your fuckin number Princess.

Bbgrl: maybe in person, Mr Zero.

Not giving away your actual number was your number one rule and because the last sugar daddy you cut off went full tilt you had to disconnect your other phone and just hadn't had a chance to get a burner yet.

Picking up a small clutch purse you shove inside your lipstick for the night, your phone, the doctored pair of underwear and you don't even bother to bring any sort of wallet.

Walking to a public place a block or so from your luxury condo before you flag down a cab giving them the address as the man smiles down at your cleavage. Enjoying the view in the rearview and it's a wonder he doesn't crash and kill you both. Leaning down to meet his gaze with a disarming smile, wearing a skin to protect both you and him from harm as you force a giggle.

"Eyes on the road silly." When really you wanted to take the knife strapped to your ribs and slit his throat for thinking he even deserved to stare at you like that.

You wore this dress for attention yes but there is a fine line between appreciation of a body and straight up eye fucking you.

And just because you wore this dress didn't give him the right to stare. Counting down from ten as you have pretty visions of gouging his eyes out only for him to pull up right to the restaurant, acting as if he was going to get out and help you.

"No need." You smile politely, "And the fare?"

You look at the triple zeros and his eyes flash to it in embarrassment, so busy eating you alive with his eyes he forgot to start it.

"On the house for a pretty lady."

Forcing a smile as you give him a thanks, leaving the cab as quickly as you can before you walk inside, twenty minutes late for the date.

Tardiness was a big part of the game, whether it agitated them or made them anxious, it would certainly place a little more power on your initial interaction. Gaging their reaction to your power play always determines how you'll respond. Clueless, lost, down right stupid.

The hostess gives you a warm smile as she welcomes you into the restaurant asking of your party size. You're quick to tell her you're here for GZ.

"Or maybe under the name Ground Zero if the initials are too vague." You smile and watch the hostess blanche a moment before she fixes her face.

"Right this way." Expect she doesn't lead you all the way over there, stops just before the darker corner of the restaurant making a gesture with her hands and you chalk it up to nerves. That maybe he owned the whole fucking restaurant.

Watching his large palm swirl a bourbon straight, watch his other heavily ringed hand card through his ash blonde locks.

"Mr Zero?" You ask with a cat like smile, coming to stand beside the table. He glares up at you either oblivious or acting it as you wait for him to pull out your chair.

"Yer fuckin late Princess." He doesn't wait you out though can tell from a glance you'll stand there with your sexy ass heels rooted to the hardwoods of the restaurant before you'd ever sit down. He doesn't give in, this just happened to give him a chance to show his stature. He slams his drink down, clattering the water glasses and your wine glass filled with a pinkish color. Most likely something sweet. For a moment it makes you wonder if he read your profile considering most men didn't bother and showed it often on their first dates that they hadn't when they ordered you red wine. Which you had as your top dislike.

When he rises he's much much bigger than you. Tall enough you have to crane your head up to look at him, broad shoulders and now that he's fully facing you you can see his scarred face. A deep fissure of discolored skin from just over his eyebrow cutting through his eye flaring over his cheek before tapering off at his throat before it meets another deep scar that's hidden under his shirt.

He didn't even bother with a dress jacket, only a dress shirt, black, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows exposing his tattoos and even more scars, his black vest if swirling velvet on the front only emphasizes his broad chest and tapered waist.

He stands there a moment watching you take him in and he cannot lie he is surprised. Most women cowarded at his size especially when they see his scar and his half clouded bromine eye but you just smile. Maybe even a bit of excitement flashed in your eyes but you stand unmoving still that fuckin cat smirk on your dark stained lips.

"My chair, Mr Zero." You remind him and he snarls, leaning in close to your face tipping your chin up to him. It's here you realize how large his hands are, especially when the other settles at your ribcage a moment. You just hope he doesn't feel the knife nestled there and take it as a threat to himself.

"I told you I didn't like waiting." He growls, "So what makes you think Imma continue this date?"

"You're still here aren't you? Besides," You half guide him by moving your face gently from his grip, stepping towards your chair and he follows, "You wouldn't want to cancel a date with such a pretty girl would you?"

"A pretty woman." He corrects with a growl, pulling back your chair and shoving it in roughly when you sit, leaning behind you to whisper in your diamond clad ear, "Yer no girl that's for sure."

As if to say a predator recognizes a predator but you feign ignorance.

"Year?" You ask, smelling your wine before taking a sip. It's fruity, peach you realize with hints of citrus and angel food cake.

"Didn't ask." He bites waiting for you to ask where the menus were, he makes eye contact with the waiter to signal to start their meals. Oblivious, you take another sip of this amazingly delicious wine.

"Bit of a dessert wine isn't it?" You comment, usually men would blunder by now realizing they aren't as prestigious or well versed as they pretended to be but this man proves to be different once again.

"Peach pairs well with spicy and smokey." Glaring right back at you before a mean smile curls his lips, "Unless ya lied twice on your profile."

You set the wine glass down thanking the waiter when they leave fresh bread. Zero is faster than you grabbing for the crusty pre dinner treat as he butters the rich white center before placing the slice on your plate before starting his own.

"Hmm, I haven't lied on my profile." You refuse to touch his offering for now.

"Sweetheart, you may look twenty five but I know that you're closer to thirty than what you want to admit." There's that cruel smile of his again.

"It's quite rude to make a woman seem older than what she is. Touchy subject ya know?" Going back to sipping your wine as you've decided you may need a buzz to endure this date, "Or maybe you don't have a lot of experience with women. Is that why I'm here?"

Smirking over the vein protruding from his throat but the satisfaction only lasts so long, thoughts rounding back to wondering how the fuck he knew your real age and so quickly.

Suddenly you feel his fingers wrapping around the back of you knee as he pulls you forward leaning over the table.

"Haaah? Ya think I don't have experience with women? Oh sweetheart I could have you begging to take my cock in this bathroom in under ten minutes. But I need you for somethin else." He lets his bruising grip go when he sees a flash of the real you, sees your pretty lip snarl in disgust before you fix your face so quickly it would have him wondering if he ever saw that snarl or not.

He thinks he likes this version more than what his right hand picked out from your profile.

Your profile was vague but your photo album was filled with a lot of photos that men could easily project on or imagine themselves with you. Looking demure, easy going, a submissive.

Really Bakugou can tell you're a fucking brat at best and far from demure.

"Is that true Mr Zero? Sex on the first date is quite expensive." You smile cutely, make it a giggle all while the steak knife whispers to you that it belonged shoved through his hand on the table.

"I bet it is sweetheart." He spits back.

"So…our contract?" You're ready to rush this along thinking that maybe this benefactor isn't going to work out and that you'll have to save your underwear for another time.

He leans back, finally looking a little more relaxed as you bring up business as if contracts and dealings were part of his expertise. Taking a sip of his bourbon as he looks you over in that fine velvet dress he imagines on the floor of his expensive bedroom.

"Dunno can ya behave long enough to talk about it?" Deadly smirk on his lips now, one that makes your stomach clench.

"I always behave, Mr. Zero." A purr, one that changes the tone of the entire dinner, at least for now.

A light scoff but he's smiling, genuinely and he looks so handsome like that. His eyes catch something you don't see before the waiter comes over with two starter salads.

You look down at the fresh bed of greens matching his and try not to grimace that he's most likely ordered dinner for you. Hating when benefactors took it upon themselves as they never paid enough attention to order even remotely right.

"Let's see how dinner goes first yea, princess? Gotta make sure I like it before I buy it." A clear taunt and stab at you to which you give a tight smile. Him placing himself above you but you were determined at the very least to secure the after dinner deposit fee from him that was clearly stated on your profile.

Any dinner lasting longer than two hours or is set after eight thirty pm is considered to be equal to two consultation fees.

He already violated the time since he messaged you at exactly six pm tonight and you were always sure to take your time getting ready.

But you had to finish the fucking date first.

"Okay." Agreeing without issue as you bite your tongue. Finishing your salad and your wine, asking him to order you another glass. Batting your eyelashes and for a second you see his face flash with something other than his gruff nature. Standing with the brief explanation of "freshening up."

Annoyed as you enter the ladies room, looking at your reflection as if to share a what the fuck glance with a friend before rooting around in your bag. Touching up your lipstick, spraying yourself with a bit of your perfume that made all the men insane for you before turning your attention to your hair.

Making sure it was still in perfect placement as you angle your pretty face this way and that. Clutch open on the vanity, the dummy pair of underwear threatening to fall out. Checking your account to see if the rest of this date was worth it when you see your stipulation fee is sitting in your account despite the date only being an hour long thus far.

Figuring you'll make this date worth it now, mostly curiosity getting the best of you over what is going to make this contact so fucking special he's more than willing to pay everything upfront.

To deal with your more cheeky side you used to scare off weaker men.

Clawed fingers curling around the soft pair of underwear, rubbing them between your hands vigorously to make them warm to the touch. To have him thinking that this sexy lingerie style underwear was nestled right to your cunt.

Balling them up as you make your way out of the bathroom while the waitresses gossip over the fact that some violent ringleader was dining there tonight and that he was "dangerously hot." Hushing when they see you pass the refreshment nook before you make your way back to the table.

Thankfully his left hand with all his rings is resting on its side on the table giving you more than enough space to press the warm fabric into his palm and curling his fist around it before sitting back across from him. Giving a flirtatious smile to the large blonde who turns his hand to see what you placed into his palm. Smirking and shaking his head as he looks down at the fabric.

Unfurling it with his large hand and seeing the pair of underwear with a little spot on the crotch that makes him chuckle.

You look over your meal that's been set out, can tell he was polite enough to wait for you as the aroma of spicy smoked meat sits before you. Breathing deeply and hating to admit that you'd actually like this dish. Picking up your fork as you let him become dumbfounded over the thought that you were bare under your dress when that was far from the truth.

Bakugou leans over the very expensive meal on the small table. Grabbing at your jaw a bit tightly so he can turn your face to husk in your ear.

"Now gimme the ones you're actually wearing, Princess." He growls, pulling back to hold out his hand expectantly.

Feigning innocence you look up at him and bat your eyelashes since that worked earlier, even letting your eyes get a little glassy.

"Wh-what are you talking about Mr. Zero?" Voice soft and going softer still when you add, "Those are my underwear. I wore them just for you."

He laughs loudly in your face and his grip tightens, mouth back at your ear with a deadly tone. A mix of playful flirtation and restrained anger.

"Now Princess, 'fore I get mad."

It sends a chill down your spine and a jolt to your cunt. Breaking your facade entirely when you let sharp nails bite into his thick wrist as you yank away your face. Looking around trying to come up with an excuse that this was too much of a public place before he adds.

"We're secluded enough." Letting his fingers wave impatiently with his palm up. Your eyes widen as you see how serious he is. Unable to hide the snarl on your lips or the flash of deep seeded anger in your eyes as you obey a benefactor's command instead of tricking them into thinking they had control.

Shimmying up your little bodycon dress, hooking sharp clawed thumbs into the band of the underwear to bring it down past your thick thighs that part for just a moment exposing your pretty mound to Bakugou by accident. It makes saliva coat his tongue and his cock twitch in his expensive pants.

Quickly fixing the hem of your dress that still tries to ride up thanks to your hips and thighs, balling up the black underwear and slapping it into Bakugou's waiting palm harshly. The corner of his lip curls up as he realizes it's a thong, much better than the dummy pair you gave him moments ago.

"You're such a fuckin pervert." You cross your arms over your chest, pushing up your tits giving the ash blonde a snarling pout. Wholly forgetting about your dinner now as you look away from him, can't believe he's won this round.

"Yea? Who's fault is that? Yer the one who gave me a clean pair of underwear to make me love sick for ya so I'd cough up all my cash." He makes no move to pocket the thin pair of underwear you've just given him, making your eyes dart to look for the approaching waiter, "This work on most men Sweetheart?"

"Tsk, yes." You scoff, "Then they send me whatever I fuckin want."

Pushing away a bit, thinking of leaving from how condescending his tone is. Inspecting the first pair you've given him now that he has the actual pair you'd been wearing, looking closely at the crotch.

"Did ya use a bleach pen on these 'fore ya came in?" He laughs when he watches your face blanch, most men couldn't tell. Just thought it was real and went with it, asked for more.

The waiter starts to come back to the table with another glass of Bakugou's bourbon and your wine, trying not to crack. Shoving down the panic and letting your nails bite into your palm letting crescent moons form in your soft skin. To try not to shove his hands into his lap to save you the embarrassment because the last thing you want him to know is that he's actually getting under your skin. He looks over his shoulder to follow your gaze, feral smile on his mouth.

"Besides, who's the real pervert here, Me for enjoying a pretty woman's time," He rolls the dark fabric around in his hand, still warm from your cunt and when he gets to the crotch it's damp, sticky, "Or you, for getting off to playing some dumb ass men outta thousands."

"I'm not-"

"Not what? Wet?" He laughs, letting his thumb slide through the slick of your underwear, uncaring that the waiter is here now. Setting down the drinks and forgoing asking how the meal was quickly slipping away in hopes of not bothering Ground Zero.

"Sweetheart I bet I could run my fingers through that sticky cunt and everyone in this restaurant would hear it." Bringing his thumb up to his mouth licking at it as one would to get sauce off their fingers, his eyes flutter and suddenly your cheeks burn.

"You're insufferable." You hiss, crossing your legs now, still unable to look at him.

"Ya know, I hate liars." He tosses your fake pair of underwear, pocketing the thong you wore with one hand while the other swirls his drink, "Ya've lied three times now."

"I have not."

"Ya have. Yer age, yer whole personality, yer underwear." He lists them on his fingers and funny enough you chose to die on only one of those hills.

"I am twenty five." You hiss, grabbing at your wine and downing it in three swallows.

"But yer not." He chuckles, eyes flicker to your face, you don't have foundation on, going for a mostly natural look, and Bakugou has good eyes where most men didn't, "Ya've got crows feet sweetheart. Seems like ya've smiled a lot in your life."

Reflexivity you go to hide the corner of your eyes, they crease heavily when you really smile. Everyone who knew you, actually knew you, always made the comment of "you smile with your eyes."

"Ah come on they're barely noticeable and nothin to be ashamed about." He chuckles, pulling at your wrists so he could see your face again, "Gimme a smile."

"Fuck off." You hiss waving him away dismissively trying to regain control, "The contract Mr Zero."

He sighs, annoyed as he leans back, "We haven't finished dinner."

"I'd like to skip to dessert." A snarling hiss as you push away what was probably the best meal you could've ever had.

"Oh would you?" Deadly smirk, "I could skip to dessert iffin ya want. In my car or the bathroom, your pick Princess."

"Again you're fucking insufferable." You make motion to stand, to leave, only for his strong hand to catch your wrist and pull you into his lap making this somehow worse.

"What's wrong? Embarrassed now?" He tilts your chin to him and you squeeze your eyes shut in defiance he chuckles lowly, "Tell me yer real age and I'll stop teasing, for now."

You open your eyes to glare at him for a long, long time. No judgment in those bromine eyes as he patiently waits for your answer. You sigh, scratching roughly at his undercut with your long nails whether it was a strategic move or your fingers having a mind of their own, you weren't sure. The only thing you were sure of was that this man was trouble.

Big trouble.

Yet you answer honestly anyway.

"Twenty nine." It's soft, genuinely this time as if you might be a little embarrassed about it when you know you shouldn't. He smiles up at you, letting his thumb linger at one of the corners of your eyes before he lets his fingers trace your face down to your jaw.

"See, won't so bad to admit it was it?" Genuine gentle tone, his hand on your hip squeezing at the fat there.

Your heart races and that foreboding feeling creeps up your throat as you're slowly realizing that you are no longer the one who was hunting.

No, no, now you were being hunted.

Nails bite harshly into his nape as you stand, snarl to your lips and all he can do is chuckle at your flippant attitude.

"M leaving." Holding out your manicured hand, "Give me my underwear back."

"No, I paid for it." He growls really spurring on your temper now.

"All you men are the same. Pigs who want to keep their dicks wet." A scoff as you snarl your pretty lips.

"And I can say all women are the same. Bitches who want to keep their pockets full." He retorts forcing your sharp claws to grab onto the cheeks of what you don't realize is the most powerful man in the entire country.

Even making sure your nails bite into the skin of his cheeks, "I don't need your fucking money."

"Then why're ya here sweetheart?" He smirks up at you, grabbing onto your wrist tightly.

"Fuck you. You don't know me." Shoving his face and escaping his tight grip before you begin to stomp from the restaurant with your head held high.

"You'll be crawling back to me, princess." He calls out with a chuckle.

"I won't!" You send a snarling growl back, unable to get through the too quiet dining room to the exit of the five star place.

Hissing through your teeth with an echoing groan as the night air hits you doing little to cool your temper while you hail a cab.

Pulling up the sugar baby app on your phone going to his profile to block him but before you can a message pops up.

GZ: See ya in two months sweetheart.

You'd never blocked a mark faster in your entire life.

But the thing you don't know about him yet is that Bakugou Katsuki always kept his promises.

A/N: yay! You've gotten to the end! Thank you so much for reading! Now I have plans to make this a series however I'm not very good at long term things if I'm being honest. Lmfao but please! If you liked or loved this reblog it! I'd love to hear in my inbox or in the body of the reblog or even in your tags of your reblog what you thought of this!

[johnbrand]

Being Proactive

“Hey princess, how about you go grab me a beer while we wait for everyone else to arrive.”

“Sure thing, Mario!” 

I ran inside as fast as I could, trying my best to hold back the smile that was threatening to escape. I could not believe how easily my plan was working. Ever since I caught that twisted, hungry bottom flirting with my boyfriend, I knew I had to take action. It was just fascinating how simple it all had been. 

My boyfriend was a solid-but-sensitive type, big and muscular but soft, which sometimes worked against him. He had not even noticed when Mario had batted his pretty eyelashes for him, or when the bottom pouted with a sickly sweet: “We should hang out more, I’m sure I’d make it worth your time.” But I had known the signs however, and I planned to be proactive. A simple search on the web led me to a solution I could only hope would do the trick.

It was some form of an incantation, performing rites onto an article of clothing with the necessary ingredients. Some rose-embedded candles, feathers of a raven, off-brand vinegar...all stuff I could easily find in the city. And once brought together, the ingredients were meant to create a migration ritual, transferring the essence of one person through an article of clothing onto another being. My plan was for Mario to be at the receiving end, absorbing the identity of my choosing.

And luckily for me, there was no better offering than my arrogant, womanizing older brother. Eric was a decent enough sibling growing up, although we had rarely spoken since my coming out. But overall, he was a different man on the streets. If he was not tackling another dude on the field, then Eric was surely tackling another chick into bed. Therefore, if I could imbed this same heterosexual passion into Mario, I knew I would never have to deal with him skankly attempting to steal my boyfriend every again. 

The set-up had been simple: a pool party with everyone supposedly invited. Of course, I had only reached out to Mario, and had neglected to inform him of the "pool" portion of the party. He was so thankful when I offered him my "spare" pair of speedos, taking the pink-patterned briefs from me without a second thought. He could have never known they had been soaking the entire night before in a brew with my older brother’s own sweat-stained boxers.

At first, the changes had not been evident, but eventually I began to witness the consequences of my actions. Mario had gradually grown taller, every minute having added an extra half-inch to his torso or legs. With this came the expansion of his muscles, defining the bottom’s once-lean figure with juicier, more defined features. 

Now approaching with the beer he had requested, I was able to take in even more changes that had happened while I had been inside. Hair had begun sprouting from Mario’s previously-shaven legs, and his queer mullet had tightened into a douchey French crop. I could even sense his attitude had shifted; Mario was no longer displaying his former star feature (his perky bottom), but instead showcasing his new pride (his literal, much larger pride).

“Good girl,” Mario taunted, chugging the whole can in one go. The teasing nicknames were new too. I should have been insulted, but I was too busy relishing in my success. What other attributes from my older brother would Mario soon absorb?

BUUUUUUUUURRRPP! “So how long until they get here anyway?” Mario groaned, tossing the crushed can aside. 

“Shouldn’t be much longer,” I replied without removing my eyes from him, hoping to witness another change.

Mario noticed my directed attention, assuming it was regarding the swimwear. “This wasn't all some plan to get me into a faggy speedo, was it? I'm beginning to think you wanted a real man like me all to yourself."

The accusation caused me to break, stunned at the rude remark. Mario smirked smugly. “What, something wrong, girly?”

“Yeah, what you're saying is insul-”

“Learn your place and go grab me another beer,” Mario ordered. “You don’t want me to have to get up, do you?”

Surprised and feeling a sudden loss of control, I turned away and made my way back to the kitchen. For the first time I began considering how Mario's conversion may have created an even worse monster than I could have imagined. My once proactive solution no longer appeared to be such.

[mushyblushyredhead]

I noticed you're doing fics for Helluva Boss, so I wanted to request a fic about a tickle fight between Blitzø and Fizzarolli where Blitzø wants to make things like it was when they were teenagers and starts acting like a little shit to provoke Fizzarolli, and a tickle fights ensues, only to be broken up by Stolas and Asmodeus where they both end chasing their own imp boyfriends.

TickleTober 2024 🎃

Day 2: Chase

Switches!Blitzø & Fizzarolli

Word Count: 1.7k

⚠️ Warning for some language & mild spoilers!

And also kinda AU ending here where everything’s good and nobody’s hearts get broken (iykyk) 🥲

“Hey, thanks for inviting me out tonight,” Fizzarolli smiled at his now present friend, Blitzø.

“Oh, uh, sure thing,” Blitz awkwardly replied. “Anything to get our minds off of…y’know what happened the other day.” It had only been one day since Blitz and Fizz had been captured by the bounty hunter, Striker, and Blitz insisted that he and Fizz needed a day to hangout and catch up now that they seemed to be on good terms.

Although they both got some closure after so long while nearly escaping with their lives, Blitz still felt like it wasn’t enough. After all that, they were just going to part ways and walked off like nothing happened? No, Blitz already lost his best friend so long ago. He didn’t want it to happen again. They deserved to at least hang out and rekindle their friendship once more.

And that’s where they were at; Blitz invited Fizzarolli out to dinner, and they decided to rendezvous back to Fizz’s place to spend the rest of the evening there.

Except, Blitz was starting to feel guilty. And awkward. He was feeling guilty about being awkward for this hangout. Here he was with his best friend that he wished to rekindle with after so many years, and now he didn’t know what to say or do. What was he even supposed to say after all these years? He didn’t want to say the wrong thing, or worse, say something that would set Fizz off and remind him exactly why their friendship ended in the first place.

Blitz’s overthinking was clouding his hearing, he wasn’t aware that Fizzarolli was speaking to him. He snapped out of his thoughts when he felt something nudge his shoulder. “Huh? What?”

“I said,” Fizz repeated. “Are you okay? You look like you’ve been zoning out this whole time.”

“Oh, heh. No, don’t worry about it. Guess I just drank a little too much tonight,” Blitz lied, forcing a smile.

Fizz could tell Blitz was lying, but he didn’t want to push it. “Oh, okay then.”

Uh-oh. Now it was silent again. Awkward silence.

C’mon, c’mon! Say something! Blitz racked his brain for something to say. Shit! He felt he was never good at this whole sentimental stuff; he was only good at ruining things. There had to be something he could say or do to save their friendship even more. But what? Why was talking to his best friend so hard to do?

He peeked over and saw Fizz fiddling with his prosthetic animatronic arms. Blitz quickly turned his head away as guilt washed over him again. He was never going to forgive himself for causing…that to Fizzarolli. Was that the reason why he couldn’t talk to him anymore? Because he still carried that heavy guilt from all those years ago?

Whatever the reason, Blitz didn’t want it to ruin his friendship any longer. He cleared his throat, getting Fizz’s attention. “So…heh…those robot arms of yours must make you pretty damn good with Oz in bed, huh?”

Fizz scowled, but it quickly melted into a visible smile. “Fuhuhuck Blitz, can you not bring any weird jokes into a normal conversation?”

“Hey, I used to be a crappy clown. It’s my job to crack weird jokes all the time.” Blitz grinned, nudging his friend in the side. “Besides, you seem to have no problem with it since you laughed.”

Fizz yelped, arching away from where Blitz’s elbow hit him. “A-AAH! Watch it with your pointy elbows!”

Blitz cocked his head to the side. He had never heard Fizzarolli make a sound like that before. It took him a solid few seconds before he figured it out. No fucking way…even after all these years! A wicked slow grin spread across his face. He wasn’t feeling guilty or hesitant anymore. He knew exactly how he was going to bond with his friend again. The way he always did when they were teenagers.

“Hey Fiiiiiizz~!” Blitz sing-songed. “You always complain about my jokes being so shitty yet you laugh at every single one!”

“I do not!” Fizz protested.

Perfect. “Do too, watch!” Remember that legless balloon horse I always made as a kid? Well, how did he lose his legs in the first place?” Blitz paused for dramatic effect to deliver his punchline while he sneakily slid his tail behind Fizz. “…Too much horseplay!”

As soon as he said the punchline, Blitz jabbed and wriggled his tail end against Fizz’s side, causing him to emit that same high-pitched yelp.

“Ha! See? You still laugh at my jokes!”

“I wahahasn’t laughing, idiot!” Fizz shot back. He cursed himself for letting a giggle slip out. “Ihihit’s your fucking tahahail!”

Blitz hummed. “Hmm, I guess you’re right. I’ve always been a pain in your side, huh?” Blitz quickly tased Fizz’s side to playfully emphasize his point.

This time, Fizz squeaked and flinched away from the touch. “Blihihihitz!” He couldn’t hold back his giggles now. “S-Stohohop doing thahahat!”

Blitz sighed, pretending to be annoyed, but he didn’t let up and continued to poke Fizz’s side repeatedly. “Look, Fizzarolli, I’m trying to lighten the mood here, crack some jokes, and build our friendship back, and all you wanna do is laugh in my face like whatever I say is the most ridiculous thing!”

“You ahahahare ridiculous, Blihihihitzo!”

Normally, Blitz hated whenever anyone called him by his previous name. But he made an exception for this case; he knew Fizz wasn’t trying to insult him for real, but he still made a dramatic show by pretending to be offended.

“Oh, now you’ve gone too far, Raviolli! You know the ‘o’ is silent in my name now!” Before he could let Fizz answer back, Blitz attacked him for real. He leapt on top of Fizz, and dug his claws against wherever he could reach.

Fizz emitted a funny screech as he was glomped, immediately bursting into loud cackles. “BLIHIHIHITZ! NohohohAAAAA! STAHAHAHAhahap!!”

Blitz pulled his hands back. “Alright, you whiner. I’ll stop.” Fizz breathed a sigh of relief. But he immediately burst out laughing again as Blitz’s wiggling claws went back to his torso.

“WHAAAAHAHAT THE FUHUHUCK, BLIHIHIHIHITZ!!?”

Blitz grinned as wickedly as the Radio Demon. “What? You didn’t say for how long you wanted me to stop!”

“F-FUHUHAHAHACK YOUHOOHOOHOO, YOU CLAHAHAHAHOWN!!”

“Alright, smart ass,” Blitz chuckled evilly. “You wanna make this worse for yourself by calling me names? Because you clearly still have a lot of fight in ya if you can keep sassing me. Luckily…” he cracked his knuckles for dramatic effect. “I know just how to squeeze that sass out of you.”

“Not unless I squeeze it out of you, first!” Fizz shot back, surprising Blitz by throwing him off with his robotic legs. Now, it was Fizz’s turn to snicker like a villain. “You were right, Blitz, these robotic arms of mine do have their advantages for a lot of things!”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, uhhh…truce?”

Elsewhere, Asmodeous and Stolas were chatting over tea together. They were relieved that their loved ones were not only safe back home, but there were also finally getting along. It was nice to see the former duo finally rekindling their friendship.

It wasn’t until they started to hear distant screams of protest that made their protective boyfriend instincts kick in, and rush to the scene. When they saw what was happening, there were relived there was no real danger but instead were silently gushing at the scene; Blitz and Fizzarolli engaged in an all-out tickle fight. The two demons were rolling around on the floor, tickling each other silly, and screaming for the other to give up.

“GIHIHIHIVE UHUHUP, BLITZ!!”

“Y-YOU FIHIHIHIHIRST, YOU ROBOHOHOHOT FREAK!!”

“NAAAAHEEHEEHEE—NEVER!!”

Ozzie and Stolas both rolled their eyes fondly at each other. As adorable as the sight was, they knew how stubborn their boyfriends could be. If they didn’t intervene soon, this tickle fight could last for hours.

Luckily, they knew just how to intervene.

Fizz and Blitz halted their tickle attacks when they heard Stolas’ voice. “Oh, Fizzarolli, if you want Blitzy to give in, you’ll have to go for his underarms and tummy!”

Blitz paled and then blushed. “Shut your damn beak, Stolas! You stay out of this!”

Fizz giggled like a gremlin. “HA! Your furry boyfriend called you out!” He immediately stopped laughing when he heard Ozzie say, “And Blitz, if you want Fizzy here to give up, you have to go for his tummy! And especially under his chin; it makes him let out the cutest little squeaks and chirps!”

Now it was Fizzarolli’s turn to blush madly. He stammered, then whined. “Ozzie! Whyyyyy?! Blitz doesn’t need to know that!”

“But now I do! Ohhh this changes everything! Finally, now I can get you back after all these years!”

“Not if I get you first!” Fizz growled, stretching his robotic limbs.

Stolas and Ozzie exchanged looks. They both smirked, silently agreeing.

“Shall we teach them a lesson?” Ozzie grinned.

Stolas chuckled. “Love to. After you, Asmodeus.”

The smaller imps paused their attacks again as they were engulfed in their partners’ shadows. They slowly looked up and gulped, knowing those looks far too well with what it meant.

“Uhh Blitz?”

“Yeah, run.”

The two imps took off running, flustered beyond comprehension at their partners chasing them, knowing what was going to happen as soon as they were caught. And their boyfriends? They couldn’t help but tease and coo how they were going to get them just to fluster them even more. And it worked like a charm.

“Just so you know, this is all your fault!” Fizz exclaimed.

“Hey, it’s your fault, too!” Blitz shot back. “But quit worrying, Fizz. It’s not like our furry boyfriends can even catch up to us!”

The two immediately slammed into Stolas and Asmodeus, Stolas easily portaling them both.

“‘They’ll never even catch up to us’, huh?” Fizz sarcastically remarked.

Blitz stammered nervously. “Stolas, what the hell?! You can’t use your portals, you cheater!”

Stolas hummed. “Since when have you ever cared about fairness in these silly games, Blitzy?” Said imp blushed at that comment. “Now then, where were we, Asmodeus?”

“I believe we were just about to teach these two a lesson about thinking they could outrun us. We always catch up! And you know what happens when we do~!” Ozzie playfully reminded.

Both demons each grabbed and cradled their imp boyfriends in their arms, holding them securely as they squirmed in anticipation. The night was no longer silent as Stolas and Ozzie tickled their boyfriends silly, enjoying the sweet sounds of their screeches and laughter.

THE END <3

Hope you love this, anon! 🫶🏻

[anxiousapplepie]

Haiiiiiii again <3

I come asking questions!! And sharing ideas!!! About pre loop/loop position in Dormont this time since i dont Think everyone will be standing/doing the same same thing considering their roles. Im categorising them by Travelers btw

From what i feel about them, in Traveler!Mirabelle au Isabeau'd be actually staring at the house north of Dormont, with that old person on the bench from the start! Assessing risks, getting a good look at how much stuff changed, etc., while Bonnie and Siffrin both stay at the shop, ensuring that Siffrin doesn't forget anything and getting exactly what needed. Odile is... Unclear, but i think it's Really, Really funny if someone from the party stayed near Favor Tree at all times in every au, so she goes there, i think.

In Traveler!Isabeau tho i think Odile'd be in the east of the town, asking questions to locals. The blind one maybe? Mirabelle would be at the shop, but turned to a different shelf i think, while Bonnie runs around after running one near the Change God statue. Maybe theyre the one fetching Isabeau too. Siffrin is studying the Favor Tree, standing near that rock the original Isa was using, although more Sitting near it than actually Standing, with a pile of books larger than he's tall while up. They'd preferred to do this near the library, for all the books accessible, but theres too much noise so! Theyre here now.

Traveler!Bonnie finds Isabeau exactly there, actually. Nose deep in the book that yields exactly nothing, but he's trying. Mirabelle is venting off frustration in the east doing drills, so she's away from the main busy road and doesn't hurt anyone on accident. Odile is the the only one at the shop, paralleling the original, but now she's a lot more wary and is actually sitting on that singular chair in the room. There's no one at the Favor Tree Siffrin is sleeping in the roots of the Favor Tree. I thought about him sleeping On the thing, but i dont think Loop would appreciate that much so Bonnie (or maybe someone else?) will need to Rudely Awaken them from his dedicated Cat Nap and Cruelty Say They Need To Go. Unbelievable. Jail for them for 1000 years.

The last one is Traveler!Odile and i keep forgetting who is who there, but Bonnie is in the east? I think? Like HM!Odile before, but instead of Adults they're chatting with Kids. Isabeau is shopping while Siffrin is relaxing on the bench near the library, or maybe doing stretches. It's never clear with them, but if Isa walked out he'd die from looking at some of those positions alone. Mirabelle is now the one to stay at the Favor Tree for the same reason as Researcher!Siffrin before, but instead of studying the tree itself, she's reading the Curse Of Chatèau Castle. God i hope i wrote that right.

The only thing that never, Never changes is that the travelers wake up in the meadow south of Dormont. What had lead them there in the first place is up in the air, - desire for solitude, silence, or else, - but they will always wake on the grass, staring up, lying awake until someone goes to fetch them. Always alone.

Anddd thats it really. Loop is another constant that never changes, as they're always at the Favor Tree, but the others run wild. I have no good way to end this ask so have this ᘛ⁠⁐̤⁠ᕐ⁠ᐷ

*hand waves to all of the above in a shower of sparkles and glitter* BEHOLD! A bunch of things I didn't have to spend time and energy thinking about! :D I obviously can't spend time zooming in with my magnifying glass like "LET ME TELL YOU MY THOUGHTS ABOUT THIS!!!" for every single roleswap character (the urge is so powerful and strong tho you have no idea) but I will say the overall these vibes are solid and I can get behind most of them! I HAVE thought about the reasons why every Traveler is in the field, though: T!Bonnie is in the field practicing their craft attacks (and being a broody pre-teen) T!Isabeau was exploring the outskirts of town, walking through some of the woods and checking out nearby landmarks - coming back to the field after his excursion T!Odile might be editing the book she's been writing about HM!Bonnie or just double-checking some facts from a different familytale she's borrowing from a step-sibling T!Mirabelle has been camping out in that field literally all day. Hiding from no-one special or particular why would you ask her that You are insane for gathering all these ideas into one big ask and ngl it intimidated me a lot/positive

[tech-luver]

It's exam season and to help me cope I've been writing fun stuff between study sessions. Maybe my opinions could be appreciated and debated on the interwebs.

Ranking (some of) the LL crew based on who would let you take a nap on them and how comfy that nap would be:

Rodimus: 6/10 He would be so down with you taking a nap on him but he's very sharp and very distractable. His neck flare plate(?) would prevent you from sliding off but you better hope when something get his attention you don't get crushed in his neck cabling. I think he would try to remember you are there, maybe poke at you when he's bored, but if he's active, try is the key word there. Bonus points for running warm though… hopefully not too warm.

Megatron: 8/10 A solid nap to be had. Good flat shoulder plating and he would never forget you were up there. Loss of points over the fact he would only let it happen if he really liked you and, lets be real here, there would always be that prickle at the back of your neck over how low your defences are and how many organics this mech has crushed.

Ultra Magnus: 10/10 The holy grail of naps, plenty of flat surfaces to rest on, no one can bother you cuz almost no one is as tall as him, he would willingly be your alarm clock, always knows you're there, incredible nap spot. Only issue would be convincing him, but you could make up something about how humans need to nap in high places or whatever and he would fold in concern for your fragile human health.

Ratchet: 5/10 Half of the battle is getting him to agree and the other half is trying to fall asleep whilst he grumbles, he also moves around a lot cuz he never rests and is always helping bots in the medbay. I don't know if you can fall asleep to the sound of metal being welded together or someone getting yelled at for injuring themselves doing something stupid but… all the power to ya.

Drift: 9/10 Respects the need of the nap, it's basically like meditation so he gets it. His calm energy really helps when drifting off. I think he likes the idea of protecting a little human as they snooze which gives him guard dog energy when you're out, no ones messing with you and ruining your beauty sleep. Lose a point cuz he is sleek in design so fully resting on him comes at a risk.

Rung: 4/10 Doesn't mind if you ask but, I'm sorry, he's too rounded, not good for lying down. Although, he would be very careful and gentle with you so it just might work out. He works in a quiet environment which is nice but if he is having/about to have a therapy session he will ask you to leave, patient confidentiality is important to him. You would have to schedule your naps with him which is not the point of naps.

Cyclonus: 1/10 Zero flat surfaces so you would need to strap in. I don't think he would want you napping on him, he would constantly need to check you haven't fallen to your death and would find it awkward talking to people with something hanging on his shoulder. Would tell you to just go back to your berth or find a non-moving flat area, why do you want to nap on a Cybertronian anyway? A single point for at least being nice about it when he denies you.

Tailgate: 7/10 Absolute sweetheart about it but there's nowhere to really lay down on him. He would offer to hold you as a solution, which, if you don't mind being cradled like a baby (or having other people see you being cradled like a baby, tanking your reputation), seems alright. Since you are right in front of him at all times that way, there's no chance of him forgetting you're there. Will shush other people if they're being too loud around you. High chance of inducing cuteness aggression in him when you're asleep and softly snoring, will go for the cheeks.

Swerve: 3/10 This mech spends all his time loudly blabbering in a bar, noise needs to not be an issue for you. Similar issue with Tailgate where laying down is difficult. Unfortunately, does know what a human baby is so will coddle and humiliate you if you agree to being held. Another issue, the prankster Swerve is, you can't trust this guy to not draw on you or not steal something from you and hide it in an unreachable spot or not put you on a floatie in the middle of the oil reservoir. Gets some points cuz only HE can mess with you, anyone else tries to wake you up and they're out the bar.

Whirl: 0/10 …I mean there is literally nowhere to lay down, he's too damn skinny. You…could take a chance with his giant chassis but you'll probably slide off or look like you're in a baby holder if you strap yourself down. IF you are successful at staying in place (somehow), he would just bother you the whole time or not give a shit you're there and start running around. Worst case, he tries to use you as a meat shield to get away with annoying bots cuz "If you try to punch me, you'll punch the squishy human as well!"

Brainstorm: 3/10 Mech hangs from the ceiling sometimes. Sure, he has some alright shoulder plating to work with but his spontaneity could literally throw you off. Would allow a nap but wouldn't check on you, too absorbed in his work. If he was bored and didn't have any ideas coming to him, you could suggest a sleeping bag that attaches you to mechs you want to sleep on.

I know I've missed some bots, maybe my stress will produce a part 2.

[asarigg]

Character Design: Part 1

KIMONO

What stands out the most about his design as soon as you see it is his striking red kimono. Most of you are probably familiar with this aspect of Japanese culture, which is also common all around the world, and that is the bright floral patterns are not commonly seen on men’s kimono, but women’s. Young women especially tend to wear more colourful kimonos with longer sleeves, called furisode, and older, mature women wear calmer colours and more subdued prints. You can appreciate this particular distinction when looking at maiko and geiko/geisha.

Kimono sleeves are sewn from top to bottom, leaving room only for the hand to come out, but Koujaku’s are not. Some people believe he could have cut his sleeves to make it easier to fight, but this doesn’t make sense to me, if anything it’s more annoying. Instead of having one fold of clothing flying around, there are two now. If he wanted to pull his sleeves aside to fight, he could use a tasuki to tie them back as this og post points out. The sleeves are also too short even for a men’s kimono. Compare these kimonos and then what Ryuuhou’s kimono looks like compared to his.

This same post theorizes that he probably cut the sleeves to make the kimono look more like a man’s kimono, but due to his inexperience he cut too much or didn’t dare to sew it back on, a theory I agree with. Even though it’s pointed out he likes traditional stuff, and that is specifically invested in kimono wearing he can still be inexperienced, or it could be a design detail to make it more obvious.

However in the original post they also theorize that he’s wearing his mother’s kimono, taking into account honyalala’s comment in the artbook where she says she wanted to include elements that reminded everyone of his mother everywhere.

And although I like this theory and think it’s adorable, I don’t think it should be taken into account. I get the feeling that they wanted to make the design itself have a lot of feminine elements or that remind us of the feminine, of women, and ultimately, of his mother. But he himself says in the Drama CD that the only thing he has left from his mother is the hairpin he gave her when he was a kid.

It could be questioned whether the kimono really belongs to his mother and NC made a mistake writing this, but it seems to me to be too much of an important and obvious mistake for them not to change it when they revised it.

There are symbolic elements that refer to certain themes to represent them visually, but they don’t have to be taken literally, so I think that even if there are many feminine elements in his design to remember his mother, it doesn’t mean they’re all inherited from her, but rather a representation of the relationship between Koujaku and his mother and how he remembers her and the impact she had on him.

So for me this kimono/furisode is a normal woman’s kimono that he chose because he liked it, then customized.

OBI

Let’s take a look at the obi. His obi is a male styled obi, narrow and placed over the hips. The female ones are much wider, decorated and placed higher, covering part of the waist and chest. But the knot he uses is a bunko knot, a typically feminine knot.

The pattern on his obi is a turtle shell pattern, kikko. Turtles are known for how long their lifespan can be, so it symbolizes longevity, a positive desire for a long life. Turtles can also protect themselves with their shell, it is their shield, so it also gives the idea of protection, a prayer for good luck. It could also allude to solidity, stability and strong power, given the nature of their sturdy geometric shapes. Apparently it was a very prestigious pattern when first introduced, even treated as sacred, becoming a pattern only the high classes could use.

The flower you see inside the pattern is a chrysanthemum, extremely simplified, like the family crest symbols, identical even, although the image quality isn't very good. This flower is the symbol of the imperial family of Japan, and I think they made this choice precisely because he is the heir of his family, of their criminal “empire”. The chrysanthemum is related to longevity as well, autumn, nobility and youth, as well as having ties to Buddhism. This flower in ancient times would repel evil spirits and bring prosperity, and it was first introduced as a medicinal flower.

COLLAR

I've always assumed that the flower engraved on his necklace thing’s decoration was a cherry blossom, given how important it is to his identity and his relationship with Aoba. But, although not always, cherry blossoms are usually depicted with this small gap on its leaves, but this one is round. I don’t know how much credit to give to it being a small decoration and not incorporating certain details because of that or if it could actually be a different, similar flower like an apricot blossom or some other small round flower. Apricot blossoms are related to resilience, indomitable spirit and the ability to overcome adversity because of their late winter blooming. Also modesty, timid love and a timid maiden.

[red-garden]

When will we, as a society, understand that Jin Guangyao’s story is about survival and the things he had to do to make it, rather than one super evil guy just trying to be awful and kill people? We can look past Wei Wuxian torturing and killing nameless Wen soldiers because we’re not attached to them and they’re Wens. That gets to be justified because it’s the bloody revenge of the protagonist on henchman #362. We can look past his desecration of the dead, his raising of fallen soldiers to tear apart their brothers in arms, because they’re the baddies. We look past him deserting Jiang Cheng after his return because he had people to protect and Jiang Cheng is an asshole (affectionate). Don’t misconstrue me- I love Wei Wuxian, and I think that he is a basically good person that was pushed past his breaking point and did some truly awful things as a result. He’s not a bad person. But he’s not better than Meng Yao.

Walk with me, Jin Guangyao antis. Let’s recount every bad thing Jin Guangyao has ever done in chronological order.

1) killed Nie Mingjue’s general

2) got Su She to cast the 100 holes curse on Jin Zixun (possibly to frame Wei Wuxian)

3) advocated for and later worked with Xue Yang

4) killed Nie Mingjue

5) banged his sister before he knew they were siblings, later married her after knowing

6) everything about Jin Guangshan’s death

7) allegedly killed his own son

8) chopping nie Mingjue up into little pieces and keeping his head in a cupboard

9) putting all the juniors in The Zombie Cave to get everyone on Wei Wuxian’s ass and kill a lot of people

10) almost killing Jin Ling

Numero uno first ever Bad Meng Yao Deed was killing Nie Mingjue’s general. You know, the general that constantly belittled him and repeatedly insulted his mom. Not only is this one totally understandable, it was also filial.

Next the 100 holes curse. There’s not solid proof that he wanted to frame WWX for this, it’s more likely this was just a better hidden filial killing in the name of his mother’s honor that ended up negatively impacting WWX.

Xue Yang is a little freak, but he’s a powerful, smart little freak. He was to protect Xue Yang in the interest of his father, although he does keep working with him after JGS’s death. This one was a power grab, trying to have extra pieces on the board to ensure his position among the Jin.

Nie Mingjue was another filial killing. If there’s one thing Meng Yao is gonna do is always be filial to his mom. Additionally, Nie Mingjue was not a perfect innocent angel either, he supported killing the Wen remnants. This wasn’t Meng Yao killing the last unicorn y’all. AND AND ALSO ALSO Jin Guangshan ordered this!!!!!!!!!! He was obeying his father to maintain his social position!!!!!!! What’s not clicking?

I get really mad over the Qin Su stuff, because marrying her after she was already pregnant was the kindest thing he could do for her. Should he have told her they were siblings and let her make her own choice? Absolutely. But he was trying protect her, and I can’t fault him for that. (Call back the nonconsensual golden core transfer)

The only thing I won’t defend is how he killed JGS. JGS was world’s worst guy, but no one deserves to be raped under any conditions. The sex workers he hired didn’t deserve to die, they didn’t deserve any of that. One thing I will say is that he didn’t plan for Sisi to be there. She had been transferred, he didn’t expect her, and after the fact he fed and clothed and kept her comfortable for the rest of her life. Keeping her under house arrest was how he protected his social position. Psychologically speaking I understand why he killed JGS like this however. While jiggy loved his mom, it’s clear he didn’t love sex workers more broadly, and saw his mom as an exception among them. He didn’t see the sex workers he killed as people, only saving Sisi because she was another supposed exception. For JGS, this was a taste of his own medicine type beat. JGS is a rapist, who raped Qin Su’s mom and jiggy’s mom when she was 15. I completely understand why he chose to kill JGS this way, but that doesn’t make it okay.

Jin Rusong’s death is completely alleged. While it ended up being politically advantageous to jiggy to squash the smaller sects that plotted against him, we have no idea if he killed his son. While he does say he does, he also says he killed Qin Su, who killed herself. While he may feel responsible for both their deaths, that doesn’t mean he killed them. I should point out the one claiming he killed his son was Sect Leader Yao, you know, the mob mentality character.

Chopping Nie Mingjue up is just common sense. Harder for a fierce corpse to kill you if it’s just a head. Harder to identify a body if it’s just a leg. “This is desecrating the dead” AND WHAT WAS WEI WUXIAN DOING, RIDDLE ME THAT BATMAN

For the juniors, this one was just poorly thought out tbh. He needed the Jianghu to get WWX’s ass because he was going to uproot him from his comfortable life. So he harmlessly leaves all the kids in a cave, gets everyone out there, gets their energy sealed, and lets people point fingers at WWX when the zombies start coming. He knows this likely would result in the deaths of many cultivators- many cultivators who need I remind you, make up the bourgeois, talk nasty about his mom, and who supported killing the Wen Remnants. This was like the ocean gate of wuxia, but y’all aren’t ready for that. He was protecting the life he worked so hard for, plain and simple 

Okay there are two things I won’t defend. While I don’t think he would’ve taking JL’s life, I can’t imagine how traumatic that was for Jin Ling. BUT AGAIN, I understand why he did it. He was grasping at straws, clinging to anything he thought might keep him alive, and he did a desperate, shitty thing. If you want to believe he never loved Jin Ling because of this moment, be my guest, but if there’s one thing jiggy can do is love.

All in all, he did a lot of desperate, shitty things to claw his way to a better life, and a lot of desperate shitty things to keep it. If you think he shouldn’t have cared so much about being part of the Jianghu, CONGRATULATIONS, YOU MISSED THE POINT !!🎉🎊 Poverty is violence, and he grew up in it. It was his mother’s wish, what she broke herself doing, to give him a better life. He was a good son, not going to squander what his mother gave him, trying to protect his very precarious position in a society that hated him for the fact of being born wrong. He’s not a moral paragon, but no one in mdzs is. They’re all people that react in deeply human ways to deeply unfair situations. They lash out, commit violence, do things they regret. Jiggy did a lot of terrible things, but the point is that he shouldn’t have had to.

[kcrossvine-art]

Heya folks! Its been a bit, food insecurity is a bitch, but today on the quest of cooking our way through Lord of the Rings we're gonna be making a dish exclusively mentioned in the 2007 MMO-

We will be making a Rohan Pasty! 

(As always you can find the cooking instructions and full ingredient list under the break-)

MY NAMES CROSS NOW LETS COOK LIKE ANIMALS

SO, “what goes into a Rohans Pasty?” YOU MIGHT ASKBasics. Meat n potatoes of your meat-in-dough food. .

All-purpose flour

Salt

Baking powder

Vegetable oil

Olive oil

Ground beef

Garlic salt

Ground cumin

Chili powder

Dried oregano

Waxy potato

Garlic

White onion

Egg

"A delicious local pastry filled with beef and potatoes."- LOTRO Rohan is a kingdom of humans in middle-earth, and the description point towards a cornish pasty (yes, pasty not pastry). Oddly enough the image is more of an empanada but you win some you lose some. This heritage informs much of the shape and ingredients of this dish, however we're opting to cook most of the ingredients before adding them in, contrary to going in raw as a cornish pasty calls for. I chose to deviate here because cooking beforehand allows more seasoning to be crammed in. The english hate seasoning.

AND, “what does a Rohans Pasty taste like?” YOU MIGHT ASK

Tastes like the best pot pie youve had, less soggy

Excellent for an after-rugby/martial arts/soccer dinner

The potatoes are foundational

Despite needing the least work

Pasta salad (cucumber, olives, pepperocini) would pair well as a side

And would also pair well with beer

This meal bears the gold star sticker of not having any major issues! Hooray! Maybe its increased comfortability in the kitchen, or maybe its because of how very simple this one is. Chopped roasted bell pepper might be good in the filling in the future.

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

Get the dough ready ahead of time- its mentioned in the recipe below but i also wanted to say a foreword here that it needs to sit in the fridge for a few hours. Just so ya dont get everything out and realise itd take too long for dinner tonight. Speaking of dough, i feel like it could have more flavor added to it. Its bland and although its not part of the tradition of the meal its based off of, cornish meat pasty, it might be nice to add some spices like cumin or black pepper to the flour. 

The meal reheats perfect- wrap in papertowl and put it in the microwave for 30 seconds per pasty.

When picking your potatoes make sure theyre "new" potatoes (baby ones) or whichever potato with the least amount of starch you can get. Its important for it to cook inside the pasty that it not have too much lest it get Mushy Bad.

Another thing about its real-life inspo; Cornish pastys were workers food, stuff you could carry into the mines, stuff thatd reheat well. You could hold the crust with your dirty hands and throw it away once you ate the rest. I always feel partial to these foods. Although I'd still eat the dirty crust.

This recipe earns a solid 8/10 (with 1 being food that makes one physically sick and 10 being food that gives one a lust for life again.) 

🐁 ORIGINAL RESIPPY TEXT BELOW 🐁

Dough Ingredients:

370g all-purpose flour

1 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon baking powder

74g vegetable oil

240g warm water

Filling Ingredients:

2 tablespoons(ish) olive oil

1 pound ground beef

2 tablespoons tomato paste

Garlic salt to taste

Ground cumin to taste

Chili powder to taste

Dried oregano to taste

5 cloves garlic, minced

1 white onion, diced

Method:

Combine flour, salt and baking powder.

Add oil and water into mixer with dough hook running at medium speed. Mix for 1 minute, stopping several times to scrape the sides of the bowl.

When mixture comes together and begins to form a ball, decrease mixing speed to low. Continue to mix just until dough is smooth.

Take the dough ball, safely wrap it, and transfer to fridge. Let sit for at minimum 2 hours.

For the meat, get a large skillet, and add some olive oil over medium heat. Add the ground beef and garlic salt, cook until the beef is cooked completely.

Drain the beef and set aside.

In the same pan, add the garlic, onions, cumin, chili powder, oregano, and salt.

Cook until the onions are softened but not brown, 10 to 15 minutes. Re-add the beef and cook over low heat for about 5 more minutes.

Back to the dough, transfer dough from fridge to well-floured work surface. Roll into log and divide into 10 equal portions. 

Preheat oven to 350f.

Form each piece into a ball and flatten each with a rolling pin.

Add a layer of diced potatos down the middle of the pastys. Add the meat filling to each. Fold the sides of the dough up to seal on top in the middle.

Gently turn the pasty on its side and crimp the edge, alternating a braid pattern. Use knife to cut an "X" shaped slit in the top. Repeat for each pasty.

Place the pastys on a greased baking sheet. Lightly coat each pasty with an eggwash using a basting brush.

Cook for about 50 minutes, or until golden brown, and let cool!

[rwby-encrusted-blog]

Upper Crust

"Miss Nikos, I would assume you'd know how to wield a knife better."

Pyrrha was straight up not having a good time.

Learning Who the Arcs were was terrifying. Being in their house nearly made her heart stop.

Having Prismeya Arc, Mama Arc, the Mother of Malfortune, The Matri-Arc stand over her as she tried and failed to slice onions to caramelize them almost made her forget her own name.

"Although ... If all goes well you won't need to worry~ Jaune is quite the cook if you give him time to prepare~"

Pyrrha couldn't tell what was and wasn't a threat. She was shaking so bad she nearly cut herself with the knife three times over.

If she hadn't use the bathroom before this she likely would have peed herself.

And Prismeya simply sat there, watching. Judging. Calculating. Eyes half shut, a sharp smile other lips, swirling a rich, dark red wine in a beautiful glass.

Like a cat playing with a mouse, though Pyrrha would more liken it to a Lioness and the runt of a litter of mice.

One wrong move and her life would be over. Was the Prosthetic-Gun Rumor true? Or the Retractable Claw in place of her nails? DID SHE TRULY CONSUME THE SOULS OF THOSE SHE ENDED?

But Prismeya was simply ... Putting unneeded pressure on her. Pyrrha had wanted to kill Jaune at one point so ... Scare for a scare. Just a little bit of Schadenfreude.

The oven tim-

"AH!"

*Ahem*

The oven timer dinged, startling Pyrrha.

"Ah! The Pie is ready, I'll get that Dear~" Mama Arc lilted as she grabbed a set of Pot holders from a lovely wicker basket on a counter.

Then the Doorbe-

"AAAH!"

*A-HEM*

The Doorbell rang, startling Pyrrha greatly. Truly, there was little that could shoot her nerves any more than they already had been.

"Pyrrha, be dear and get the door~"

Mama Arc's sang out to the poor girl, who hopped straight into action and any reason to escape the kitchen. She raced to the foyer and threw the door open to reveal the new guest.

In the doorway stood a middle aged man, tired, red eyes piercing into her. His feathery salt-and-pepper hair stuck out in sloppy, odd ways, and a red cape hung off his back.

Pyrrha froze, her blood curdling in her veins.

No one made it alone in this life, and no one got to stab someone in the back without finding a knife in theirs at some point, I less you well and truly disappeared.

And the man before her was near godly at doing so.

If it weren't for the sound of her heartbeat skyrocketing in her ears, Pyrrha would've thought she was dreaming.

A hitman, a hunter, an intelligence broker, a heartbreaker, a bandit, a government officer, a cleaner, A Legend.

An Omen.

"Hey you " The smell of alcohol was strong on his breath. "Is Prismeya Arc home? I got some stuff to talk to her about."

Pyrrha hit the ground with a solid 'thunk.'

~~~~~

Jaune replaced the ice-pack on Pyrrha's head, the poor girl running a fever. She conked out when Mr. Branwen had come over, leaving his sisters to finish dinner while Jaune handled his bodyguard.

The news played in the background, Jaune listening in on some very important information.

"This is Lisa Lavender being you the biggest news of the night! Jacques and Willow Schnee have both been arrested on the grounds of Ties to Organized crime, including Gang Violence, Drug Trafficking, and Faunus Trafficking. While there is strong evidence, a deeper investigation will take place. Their children are being moved to an undisclosed, safe location for the time being. We here at the Vale News Network will do our best to keep you Updated as the story develops and information comes to light."

@novankenn for archiving.

[goldtheorys]

Jeff the killer general + relationship headcanons

_I did Jeff headcanons before but they were ass, so here’s my second attempt.

══════════════════ -`♡´-

General 🩶

Veeeeery reclusive

He’s thin and agile, even if he’s literally just standing in a room staring at the wall, lost in thought, he’ll hide or slip out of the room when he hears someone coming in easily

He doesn’t even really mean to, but it’s just some instinct that kicks in he doesn’t bother to fight

Doesn’t like people all that much anyways, so he’ll do what he can to avoid everyone

Loneliness isn’t the loveliest feeling though

Occasionally he’ll go find one of the other creeps, awkwardly ask them a simple question

I see a lot of stuff where he’s really loud and obnoxious, also a total jerk, and although I agree, his whole life went to shit pretty early on

So he lacks social skills, he barely knows how to take care of himself, and doesn’t have good emotional control

Of course he has outbursts, he doesn’t know how to make friends, he thinks because he’s so damn amazing everyone who “acts” like they hate him just wants to be him

But it begins to get to him after awhile, never having someone

He is sort of friends with Ben, but it flip flops from fun and easygoing to strained and frustrating

Survives on randomly selected energy drinks, beer and junk food alone

Cannot cook, cannot remember what a warm meal tastes like

Has a lot of energy, so when he can’t find anyone to bother, he goes on walks

Mostly during night to help hide his face, but because of that it’s pretty enjoyable

Wears a mask too so he can grab some food before finding whatever abandoned park he can, sitting on the swing set while he eats

Prefers the colder months

I’m not sure I wanna add he has smile dog as a pet on my version of him… but he is a big dog person. Runs into a stray every now and again and spends maybe a solid hour just petting and talking to it

He kills when he feels overwhelmed, but regrets it from all the guilt after

Sleeps a lot to try and forget about everything

Relationship

══════════════════ 🤍

You two probably met in a rather absurd way

Maybe it was the classic you both just murdered someone and found eachother, dripping with a stranger’s blood

Or he walked into your home at random, surprised and intrigued by your lack of fear

(you were just too tired to give a fuck)

He’s real rude at first, calling you names, making fun of basically the way you breathe or walk, trying to poke and prod for a weak point

If you tough it out and keep being kind or neutral towards him, eventually he’ll stop and slide into a weird mood of observing you

It’s like his eyes never leave you for a second, and it gets real creepy

He studies your movements, your face, your words, your mannerisms

You’re still here despite his lack of…maturity at the beginning

Even if it’s a little begrudgingly, you’ve let him stay

It’s weird and he can’t help but question if it’s some scheme to hurt or kill him

But he’ll be damned if he misses the chance to have the first genuine human connection he’s had in years

Kind of follows you like a cat when he can

Like to watch you from his own spot in the room, occasionally piping up to say whatever comes to his mind

And, it would take a bit longer, but eventually he warms up to being more affectionate, rather than the previous friendly coexisting

Doesn’t show it, might even scowl at you for being quote unquote cringe, but adores when you compliment him. About his beauty, his talents, his intelligence, he wants it all

But what he really adores is your touch

Late nights in, watching some show while he lies on top of you

Your nails running up and down his back, occasionally tangling into his hair to twist and brush it makes his heart beat faster than any night when he’s drenched in sweat and blood

He’ll still refuse to show that kind of weakness in front of anyone else, but when it’s just him and you, he’s pathetic for your attention and affection

Likes to hold you from behind, tracing every curve, every scar, every inch of your skin he can reach

Dangerously possessive

You’re the first good thing that’s happened to him in a long while, he cannot stand even the thought of you being ripped away from him

And as I said before, he doesn’t have the greatest control of his feelings

Instead of voicing his fears or concerns, he lashes out at you, especially if he knows you’ve been spending time with someone else

Tries to force you to stay by his side, threatens to harm you if you dare to leave

But once he calms down, he leaves, and your left scratching your head wondering why he had done all of that

He’ll come back when you’re asleep, watching you as he traces shapes onto your arm

He’s so fucking scared you’re gonna realize how truly shitty of a person he is

Wakes you up, wrapping you into a hug as soon as your blearily blink your eyes open

He won’t apologize, he’s still a bit of a narcissist, but you can feel it in the way he clings to you in the darkness of the room

You’ll cuddle him to sleep, and wake up in the morning to him acting like nothing has happened

══════════════════ -`♡´-

_ughhh still don’t rlly like this it is SO messy, but also idc lol. Hope my version of him is enjoyable… might work on nsfw headcanons next, but I’m kind of just going with whatever right now. requests open, and sorry for my previous inactivity (⇀‸↼‶)

[aurorialwolf]

so what if i told yall that maybe i had a slightly angsty idea when it came to Sam and Darlin having a kid.. (w/ sams genetics, doesnt have to be genetically darlins) (also the onlyyy part of this that is canon is that Sam's eyes are brown, otherwise im making stuff up)

Sam who anxiously awaits his child's birth, practically pacing a trench into the floor, until the day of delivery, and he finally holds his child in his arms. He's nervous for this new phase of life, but with the support of his partner and the pack, he believes he can overcome any generational problems, ending his family's cycle of abuse.

The baby is healthy, and is growing well. Their eye colour hasn't come in yet, but Sam is hopeful that they'll have his brown eyes, even if it may bring back memories of before his turning.

One day, when his baby has just reached 7 months of age, they're on the couch together, Sam bouncing the baby on his knee and Darlin watching fondly. Then, Sam notices that his baby's eyes look different, and there's a solid colour there, something that must've been coming in gradually for a while. But they aren't brown eyes.

They're bright green, just like his fathers eyes, like his brothers and sisters eyes. His family has had green eyes as a dominant trait for generations, due to a long ancestry of mainly green alleles being present. He was an outlier, as was his grandmother, who also had brown eyes.

But now, all he sees is a reflection of a family he left behind, a family he escaped, a family that haunted his nightmares for years after moving. This doesn't change his love for his child, but every time he looks at them, that's what he remembers.

The kid grows up healthy and happy, and Sam does successfully break the cycle of abuse. They're his spitting image, all except the eyes, and they act like a mix of him and Darlin', reckless, but caring, and kind. They don't remind him of his family anymore, and this is good, as that was a hurdle in Sam's recovery from trauma that he had to overcome.

Eventually, the kids core activates, and they become a Freelancer, making Sam overjoyed, although a bit nervous. It's hard to teach a new Freelancer after so many years without a Freelancer core. He perseveres, and succeeds in teaching the child some small magic, simple elemental command.

He steps back to watch them attempt to mimic his demonstration, only to see a trait he hasn't seen in 28 years; the kids eyes seem to shimmer a brighter green as they focus their magic for the spell. It startles him, reminding him of his brothers eyes before he shocked him with electricity, something he did repeatedly when they were younger, after his brother had unlocked his core. He manages to clamp down any response he might've given, and watches as his child manages to carve a cube from the ground, using only their magic.

They look to him excitedly for approval, their eyes still emitting a faint green glow, and he smiles back warmly, praising them for learning so quickly.

Maybe he really can do this, and be a better parent than either of his parents were to him, despite all the hurdles.

@nevaroonie :D

[milliesfishes]

hiii i know you don’t write smut but i don’t think this falls under smut? but if it’s uncomfortable to write about please ignore!!

billy with reader who only feels loved when she sexualizes herself and how he would kinda comfort her about that. like maybe he comes home and shes all perfect for him even though deep down shes having a bad day and just wants to cry and he’s just like im not here for any of that stuff im here for you.

꣑ৎ౨ৎbilly when you feel like you have to sexualize yourself꣑ৎ౨ৎ fem reader x billy the kid

Wrung dry from the day's demands, you collapsed into the kitchen chair, fanning a hand over your eyes and taking in a deep breath. The memories of earlier were frozen solid to you like icicles in the winter, and you were trying to melt them, let the water flow through the stream of your mind elsewhere.

To your dismay, it was fruitless.

It felt as though nothing could go right. You woke up an hour later than you had wanted, which had set you back on chores. When you tugged your dress on, there had been a sickening tear that announced a new absence of stitches under your arm. The porch outside that needed sweeping had been littered with cobwebs that caught the bristles of your broom and made you shudder at the texture. And on your way down to the garden you had tripped on a loose board poking from the steps, skinning your knee bloody on the way down.

Holding back tears, you continued and tried to find a silver lining. One of your tomato plants was blooming beautifully, although the rest had been consumed by pests. You had been able to finish your chores, although it was now almost sunset and you'd had to start supper late.

Soup was boiling on the stove, and you hesitantly rose to peer into the pot. Just about done. Billy would be happy to have a hot meal when he came home.

Billy would be home soon. Your eyes widened and you rushed down the hall to the washroom, where a little mirror was positioned over the sink. Looking at your reflection, you nearly cried. The day's events had indeed taken a toll on you. Pinching your cheeks, you reached for your brush and combed it through your messy hair. The tangles pulled at your scalp and you winced slightly, pushing through.

In order to finish your chores in a timely manner you hadn't bothered to swap out your torn dress, and now you debated quickly rifling through your collection to change it. But when the familiar sound of heavy bootsteps on the porch graced your ears, you disregarded it, deciding to keep your arms down.

The door swung open, a creak announcing Billy's arrival. You plastered a sweet smile to your face and took in a deep breath. Be his girl.

Instantly when you saw him some of the tension melted away. He set his hat on the wall hook, unfastening his gun belt and slinging it over the chair by the door. When he saw you, a broad smile lightened his face, and he held his arms out. "There she is."

You ran to him, throwing your arms around his neck and letting him lift you off your feet. It took all but two seconds for you to remember your dress and you winced but moved on. Billy buried his face in your neck, pressing a kiss there that made you giggle. "Been missin' my girl all day."

"I missed you too," you murmured, ignoring the way his gentle touch made you want to cry. There wasn't any way you would dream of telling Billy about your train wreck of a day. Not when he was out risking life and liberty under the watchful eye of the law. Your problems paled in comparison.

The least you could do was give him something nice to come home to. Whether it be kisses or your bare body later.

With that in mind, you pulled back and nudged his nose with yours, making him smile before you caught his lips in a kiss. He obliged eagerly, shifting you so he was holding your thighs up, his hips between them. You pushed down any feelings of negative variety, focusing on the kiss. He needed to feel good. That was your priority.

Billy broke the kiss, giving you a fond look. "It smells good, didja make somethin'?"

Nodding, you kept your smile pressed in place. "It's on the stove."

"Ah!" He set you down, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you into his side, smacking a kiss on your forehead. "You'll turn me into a kept man, darlin'." As he pulled you into the kitchen, you felt as though you were batting away your feelings with a stick. They kept rebounding, but you were able to keep them at bay.

Dinner was a painful affair. If it hadn't been Billy sitting across from you there was a more than likely chance you would have broken into pieces. He chattered about his day, grinning broadly at you through mouthfuls of soup.

Inside you were boiling, about to spill over. The sunset was a brilliant orange through the window, and you stared at it for a moment, getting lost in the stark fall color painted on the cerulean sky. The same blue as his eyes. You breathed in once, frustrated at yourself. Why were you still upset? Billy was home, it was all okay.

Even though you told yourself this over and over, the feeling did not dissipate. And you stayed quiet, nodding at what Billy was saying absentmindedly.

It was only when you realized he had stopped talking that you looked back at him, eyes wide. His brow was knitted, and you chided yourself. You stopped paying attention and now he's worried. He shouldn't have to be worried because of you.

"You okay, angel?" Billy reached for your hand, squeezing the fingers.

"Yes." You nodded, pasting the smile back on. "Yes, I'm fine. Everything is fine."

He didn't look convinced, and you panicked, standing up and going to him. Slotting yourself between his legs, you took his face in your hands and brushed some of his hair back, searching his eyes. Billy gazed up at you, blue eyes showing nothing short of devotion. You internally breathed a sigh of relief. He loved you. He still loved you.

Billy's hands found your waist, and he pulled you down to sit on his thigh, legs tucked primly between his. He watched you for a moment, fingers stroking your sides. You felt a jolt of anxiety, worried that he was worrying.

Leaning in, you kissed him soundly, rubbing his cheek with your thumb. His stubble prickled your skin, and you pressed your chest to his, making him grunt. One of Billy's hands found your lower back, pushing you into him. Your mind calmed just slightly at that; thankful he still wanted you.

Taking his other hand, you used it to cover one of your breasts, lips moving fluently. Billy paused, nuzzling your nose before he dove back in. You shifted on his lap so you were straddling him, your movements methodical. The feeling of dread was mounting in your chest, as if there were a solid mass poking your ribs.

You tried to ignore it. But before you could stop, a choked breath escaped your lips, and you pulled back, chest heaving as your eyes fell to his shoulder. In an instant Billy's hands were on your waist, rubbing carefully. "Sweetheart?"

The tenderness in which he delivered the name sparked tears in your eyes, and you refused to look at him, nodding hastily. "Yes. Yes, everything's fine. I'm fine, I'm-" your breath hitched, and you blinked rapidly, risking a glance at him.

Billy was frowning, eyes brimming with concern. He moved his hands soothingly on your waist. "Baby...what'sa matter?"

"Nothing." You leaned back in and kissed him. His lips nudged yours, but his expression didn't change, eyes not closing. You grew tense with anxiety again, taking his face in your hands and kissing his nose. Then his lips again. Billy remained looking at you.

It wasn't working. You reached for his hand, tried to position it on your breast again, but he lifted it to your face, settling his palm on your cheek. The way he was watching you made you want to crawl into a hole and bury yourself alive. He thumbed your temple, looking at you like you were a code he wanted to break. When he spoke, it was a single word. "Angel." You swallowed, and he continued. "Angel, what'sa matter?"

"You wanted to..." you tried once more to put his hand on your breast. But he shook his head and repositioned it on your face, causing your cheeks to fill with color.

"Not if you're not feelin' good, sweetheart." The way he said it only dug a deeper chasm inside you. Guilt overwhelmed your senses as you figured you had done something wrong.

That was when you broke. The dam all but crumbled, and your cheeks flooded with the tears you'd been wanting to shed all day. You hid your face in your hands, too ashamed to look at him. "I'm f-ine."

He was pulling you in now, hand on your crown carefully guiding your face to his shoulder. Billy held you tight to him, and you broke down, shivering between his arms.

"Shh," he soothed, rocking back and forth. "Deep breaths, honey. Deep breaths. I've gotcha. It's okay." Billy traced shapes into your back, noting when you untensed. "There you go. Atta girl."

You kept your head where it was, almost hiding from him. Against his shirt, your cheeks flushed with humiliation. He was never meant to see you like this. The thought was what made you sit up fully, hurriedly wiping your eyes and avoiding his. "I'm sorry, I'm-"

"'s okay...sweetie..." Billy squeezed your sides gently. "Nothin' to say sorry for. What happened?"

"Just had a bad day." You waved a hand, setting it on his chest alongside your other one. Rubbing him there slightly, you tried to smile. "I'm okay."

"Hey-" Billy's hands framed your cheeks, and you stopped, worried you'd done something wrong. He held you still for a moment, letting the silence fill the air. Then, quietly, "'s okay to have a bad day. You can tell me."

You felt something pinch inside of you, brushing your bones with words you'd never been told before. Billy furthered it, saying, "Baby...you don't have to pretend it's okay."

Now you were stripped bare in front of him, down to the core. Billy smoothed your hair, tucking some behind your ears. Your bottom lip trembled, and he hushed you gently, rubbing your back. "Why don't you go lay down for a minute, hm? And I can clean up here?"

You began to protest, but he shook his head, tilting his head to press a kiss to your temple. "Go get ready for bed, mkay? I'll be along."

Shamefully, you let him stand you up, sending you off with a kiss to your hairline. You tearfully prepared yourself for bed, removing your torn dress and setting it aside for mending, donning a nightdress and getting under the covers, lying on your side and shutting your eyes.

Billy joined you in practically no time, the sounds of him removing his work clothes and setting his boots aside evident. When he pulled the covers back and rested a gentle hand on your hip, you turned into him, nuzzling against his bare chest. He wasted no time in wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close.

As he held you, the feeling that you had been shoving at all day began to melt. And when you opened your eyes, he was already looking down at you, face calm as you began to relax. Billy pressed his lips to your hair, sheltering you in his arms. When he spoke, it was softly. "You don't have to worry 'bout bein' okay all the time. Don't want you to be hurtin' so bad 'n feel like you have to hide it." He swiped a thumb over your cheek. "Don't hide it."

You took in a shaky breath, burrowing into his arms. "I just wanna be happy for you. Make you feel good. You have so much to worry about."

"Honey-" Billy braced his hands on your cheeks, searching your eyes. He touched his lips to your nose, making you smile just a little. "Havin' one bad day doesn't make any difference. You're always so happy, my happy girl." He softened when you leaned into his palm. "'m not here to use you, sweetheart. I love you. 'm here for you."

"For me." you repeated it quietly, and he kissed your forehead, nodding.

"For you," he affirmed. "I love everything you give me because it's you."

Something warm was blooming in your heart. You breathed in once, suddenly understanding the magnitude of how much he really loved you. Somehow in all your time with him you'd never realized he was here to stay. A secret voice within had convinced you that it you weren't perfect he would use it to leave.

But Billy wasn't a man who tossed things aside. He'd been running all his life and now he wanted to stand still.

He wanted to stand still with you.

"I love you," he whispered, tucking your head under his chin. And for the first time you realized he wasn't saying it to fill the air.

It was a promise. one never to be broken.

As he brought you close so your ear touched the space over his heart, you felt that promise being fulfilled. You gave him devotion and so he would return it. Was that what love was? Looking up at Billy, you wondered to yourself, amazed at this new discovery.

You felt it in the way he watched you. He said it again, sparking something that felt like springtime in your heart. "I love you."

It soaked your tongue like sugar, a true smile sweeping away the dust your false ones left behind tonight.

"I love you too."

[enigma-the-mysterious]

AITA for trying to accomplish my father's dreams and hurting my best friend in the process?

Alright, here we go. So, I (30M) have been working on a pretty intense task for the last few years. I made a promise to someone very dear to me—my father, to be exact—that I would do whatever it takes to accomplish it. To do this, I had to take some drastic steps. We’re talking undercover stuff, working within a system that’s more rotten than an overripe jackfruit, all to get closer to taking down the enemy from the inside.

To accomplish this mission, I needed a special promotion. I have been putting myself through hell and back, but those racist assholes at higher up kept passing over me to promote Mediocre White Dude #57. Then a few months ago, I finally, FINALLY made some solid progress when my boss's wife guaranteed me the promotion if I could track down and arrest some anonymous dude who was proving to be a security issue for my boss. Pretty straightforward, right?

Now here’s the issue. At about the same time a few months ago, I met this guy; let’s call him A (26M) for now. My work-life balance had honestly been, well, shitty to say the least, thanks to my father's mission, and I barely had the time to socialize and make any meaningful connections in the city I moved in. Meeting with A had been a chance encounter too. Long story short, we clicked instantly and became fast friends. He is a great guy all around— smart, funny, passionate, good natured, kind, helpful— just about everything you can possibly wish for in a friend (although he could be a little naive sometimes).

But here’s the kicker: a few days earlier, I found out that A has been lying to me about... basically EVERYTHING! ALL this time. He is not from the city; the people he claimed to be his family are not even related to him. Even his name isn't A, it's B! But what's worse is that he is exactly the guy I was supposed to arrest. And he was on a mission too. Except his mission was not targeting my boss, it was to rescue someone— his sister M (9F) to be exact— my boss and his wife had kidnapped and enslaved (long story). Yup, that’s right, we were on opposite sides without even realizing it.

Things escalated quickly. I... well… I had to make a choice. I chose to betray him to keep up my own cover and stick with my father's mission. And yeah, it was brutal— there was a literal fight to the death involved. I tried to convince him at first to surrender without fighting, but of course B didn't listen and refused to back down. I can’t even begin to explain how much it hurt to turn on someone I came to respect, even love…. uhh…. like a brother, of course.

And then, to rub salt to the wound, once I arrested him, my boss (FUCK HIM FUCK HIM FUCK HIM FUCK DIE BITCH) ordered me to flog B publicly till he fell to his knees and begged for mercy. Yeah, those were his exact words, that bastard! I felt like I had no choice, so I did what I was told. And it was one of the worst days of my life. I kept asking B to kneel so I could end the torture, but he is one stubborn and tough motherfucker and decided he would rather suffer through a public torture session than kneel. My dickface boss and his bitch wife weren't satisfied with how little blood I was drawing out of B, so they kept escalating the torture until B couldn't take it anymore and fell unconscious.

I ended up hurting him so badly, both physically and emotionally. It is fucking me up, honestly. I can't eat, I can't sleep, I can't even get out of my bed right now. I honestly feel like dying.

So, AITA for betraying and hurting my best friend to accomplish my father's mission? I did what I thought was necessary to save countless lives, but I can’t shake the feeling that maybe I went too far.

Edit: No, B did not know that I worked for the people who kidnapped his sister. He did not befriend me to take advantage of my position, as some of you have been implying. He did not, I repeat, he did NOT betray me. If anyone has betrayed and wronged him, it's me!

Edit 2: No, I didn't tell B my real intentions and my father's mission. Didn't you read the post? I am working UNDERCOVER!