#and I don't think I should be embarrassed about it !

[bomberqueen17]

Watching it, it's sort of haunting because the interviewers don't-- can't-- go into any kind of depth, but when they ask if the inmates think Luigi should fight to stay here, or go to Rikers, they all shout "GO! GO! GO!" and there's not enough time or space to ask them why, but the man on the scene says solemnly, "You couldn't hear, but during the earlier section, talking about how the reviews said that McDonald's had rats, they were shouting that they have rats here."

Do they mean, Luigi would be better off getting out of here for sanitary reasons, if this prison is literally rat-infested? Or for reasons of "rats" like traitors selling him out? Or do they just want him to go because he's making conditions worse here, somehow, and they want him gone whether that'd be better for him or not? There wasn't room for nuance. But in general the inmates seemed to be trying to say that conditions were bad in this facility and they did not think Luigi was being treated well.

I'm also afraid for them, if there were repercussions-- this was after 10pm lights out, and you can easily identify the rooms with flickering lights; prison officials could easily take revenge if they felt embarrassed by this.

I can't imagine how hungry they must be to be heard. It's so sobering.

y'all HAVE to watch this...interview??? with the inmates of the prison where luigi mangione is being held.

the reporter is standing outside the prison walls, while the inmates are inside watching newsmax, and collectively screaming out one-word answers to questions loud enough to be heard by the reporter.

I've never seen anything like it

[orcasoul]

The Plus One

Summery: You and Pedro have been in a relationship for a while but for some reason he'd stopped inviting you to social events. Has he grown tired of you...?

Warnings: swearing, angst (because I liiive for it!), mental health issues, low self esteem from reader, caring Pedro, fluff, use of Y/N.

This is inspired by the video of Pedro dancing his arse off at Sarah Paulsons 50th birthday party. God bless this man for randomly inspiring us when he's not even trying to lol.

Word Count: 3,516

It's a quiet evening at home. The living room fireplace is softy blazing, the crackling red and orange flames along with the Christmas tree lights and low lamp light bathes the room in a reposeful ambience. You're snuggled up on the settee in your favourite fluffy Oodie, sipping a hot chocolate as you finish reading a Christmas rom com by one of your favourite authors. And while this is something that usually helps you to unwind at the end of the day, you can't seem to shift that gutting feeling deep down in your stomach. You should have been with Pedro tonight at Sarah's party instead of here alone. With the book finished you're about to check Kindle for your next read but before opening the app, you'd decided to check your notifications on facebook.

Now you wish you hadn't. Of course the first thing to pop up would be a video of Pedro having the time of his life at the party. Not that that is the real issue here. You're not the controlling or possessive type who wants to keep their partner all for yourself and deny them any kind of social life; quite the opposit, in fact. The thing that really hurts, that makes your heart physically ache is that you're never included in Pedro's social events anymore. You would have loved to have been his date to Sarah's party and make memories with him like normal couples do. You've met Sarah on several occasions and the two of you had always got along really well, so why would he rather go alone than bring you?

You've been together for six months now, so it's not like you're in the early stages where you're both yet to meet the others' family and friends. It just doesn't make sense. You had attended a few ceremonies and promotional events for Pedro's movies with him before now and even though they had been quite intense environments to be in, you were just thrilled to be there with him, to support him and show the world how proud you are of him. And you'd like to think that you were adept at hiding the effects that your social anxiety had on you during these occasions. You'd smile, engage in chit chat and if it became too overwhelming you'd always secretly resort to your special coping technique to calm your nerves; stroking slow circles on the palm of your hand.

But it had been months since you'd last attended any events with him and as time goes on it just hurts more and more. You'd hoped time would have made it easier to accept, but truthfully it makes you feel abandoned, insignificant, like you don't belong in his world. Is that it? Is he embarrassed by you? It's true you're both from very different worlds, having met through friends of friends and not through working together in the film industry. Sometimes you still can't understand why he'd chose to be with a nobody like you when he could literally have any woman he wanted. As your mind continues to spiral, taking you to dark places, tears begin to roll down your cheeks.

To love him so much, only to feel it's not enough for him to want you around is... soul crushing. You'd been trying for so long to ignore that niggling little voice in the back of your mind; the one telling you that you aren't good enough for him and there has been times when you'd been able to mute it, especially when you're together and he looks at you with pure adoration in his eyes, or the times he would come home to LA between filming, even if it was just for a couple of days to see you or if he couldn't make it he'd fly you out to the set. No matter what he always made time for your relationship, but only out of the public eye. Pedro has always been a private person, especially when it comes to romantic involvements, but it feels like he's trying to hide you.

And now, this latest video has turned that niggling little voice into a full on megaphone, screaming an endless barrage of ugly truths at you; you're not enough for him. He's bored of you. You're an embarrassment, a stone around his neck. It was only a matter of time. You clutch at your chest as your heart shatters into a thousand pieces, sobs wracking your body. It's over! How could you have not seen it sooner?! He doesn't need you in his life. He's bloody Pedro Pascal for heavens' sake.

You were a delusional fool to ever believe you had anything to offer him. Maybe this is his way of subtly telling you it wasn't working for him anymore. Maybe he'd hoped showing you the stark differences between you both would have made you realise it couldn't continue, and being the kind and gentle man he is, he didn't want to outright dump you and hurt you, so this was the best strategy.

Now your sorrow is tinged with anger. If he wanted to end it all this time he damn well should have had the balls to tell you instead of dragging it out. So, it's down to you now; if he won't do it, you'll have to. Your tablet screen is now shining with your tears. You wipe it dry with your sleeve and throw it down beside you, Knidle well and truly forgotton. Fluffing up a cushion, you curl up on the settee while your broken heart mourns and weeps.

As the party came to an end Pedro couldn't help but feel a little relieved. He'd had a great time and wouldn't have missed one of his best friends' milestone birthdays for the world, but he missed you like hell tonight. He especially felt the sting of your absence when he would see couples dancing or sitting together, hand in hand or snuggling up. He feels selfish, but he wishes you could have been here tonight. And not just tonight, but to all his recent public appearances like the premiers for The Wild Robot and Gladiator 2, but he won't put you through that again.

The guilt still eats away at him when he casts his mind back to the last couple of times you'd attended high profile events with him, even low key and private ones where there isn't a constant blinding flash of cameras. He knows of your struggles with your mental health, in particular with social anxiety (something he can absolutely relate to) and even through your obvious facade he could see what the pressure was doing to you, often feeling a slight tremble in your hand while laced with his. He could see the difference between your forced smile and your genuine smile; the one that would make your eyes sparkle and he could lose himself in them completely.

But the worst thing was when you start rubbing the palm of your hand over and over when you'd thought he wasn't watching. He knew then it was all becoming too much for you and that's when he'd decided that he won't be selfish anymore, that he had to prioritise your well being and comfort before his own and if that meant attending ceremonies and large gatherings alone, so be it. Of course, he always felt incomplete without you at his side, but your needs far outweigh his own as far as he's concerned. Knowing he can shield you from even a fraction of discomfort makes the sacrifice worth it.

After slipping into his jacket, Pedro found Sarah at the front door of her house, waving some guests off. Wrapping her in a big hug, he said, "Happy birthday again, sweetie and thanks for inviting me." Sarah returned the hug. "I'm so glad you came, but I missed seeing Y/N tonight. How is she?" Pedro couldn't hold back the grin that broke out across his face at the mention of your name. "She's great. I wanted to bring her tonight, but I think the crowd would have been too much for her." Sarah smiled endearingly at her friend. "You really do love her, don't you?" Pedro chuckled. "What makes you say that?"

"Oh no reason..." she smirked. " Only that I've never seen you so smitten and protective over any other woman in all the years I've known you. You've got it bad." Pedro rolled his eyes, playfully. "Yeah, I guess I do." "So, what are you waiting for?" Sarah crossed her arms over her chest. "What are you talking about?" Pedro asked, knowing exactly what she meant. "You've been carrying that ring around with you for weeks now and still haven't asked her. What's holding you back?" Pedro shifted uncomfortably, putting his hands in his pockets.

"Just worried about her, that's all. The moment word gets out of an engagement, paparazzi will be circling like vultures. I don't just want her overwhelmed." "I think you underestimate her," Sarah began, "I don't think she'd ever let her anxiety get in the way of being with you. It's obvious how much she loves you. In fact when I'm around you two for too long, the sweetness gives me temporary diabetes." Pedro let out a deep belly laugh at that, drawing one from Sarah in return.

"Just do it..." she urged, gently. "You know she'll say yes." Pedro smiled and nodded, "I know." "Well..." Sarah yawned, "Get out of here. I'm fifty now and need my beauty sleep." She gave Pedro another hug. "So, I'll see you and Y/N for lunch next week?" "Sure," Pedro replied, "Goodnight, sweetie." He waved as he walked to his car. "Night," Sarah called out before closing the door.

Settling in his car, Pedro connected his phone to the car speaker and rang your phone. He promised he'd call after the party to say goodnight and couldn't wait to hear your voice. But as soon as you answered, he knew something was wrong. "Hey baby, everything okay?" he asked, worridly. His worry only increased when you cleared your throat, trying to hide the tremble in your voice. "Yeah um... I'm fine." You most definitely aren't fine! "You're a shit liar, you know that?" Pedro says, lightheartedly to help put you at ease. Now his tone turns more serious. "Tell me what's wrong." Silence... "Y/N? You're starting to scare me now." "I told you I'm fine. I'm just... tired." You tried to sound convincing but failed, spectacularly.

"I'm coming over -" "No!" Your abrupt outburst silenced Pedro. You've never turned him away in all the months you've been together. "It's... uh... it's late. You should just get home safe." Pedro sighed. "I know something's wrong and if you won't tell me on the phone I'm coming over." At that, you burst into tears. A pang shot straight through Pedro's heart at the sound of you crying. "Hey, baby, talk to me!" he pled. "What happened?" In between the the sniffling your voice became strained. "I didn't want to do this over the phone." Pedro suddenly had a sinking feeling in his gut, not liking the tone of this conversation. "Do what?" he asked, hesitantly. "Its..." sniffle, "It's over."

If Pedro hadn't already been sitting in the car his legs would have given out on him! "W- what?!" he stuttered in disbelief. "What do you mean it's over?!" His hands gripped the steering wheel for support. Where the fuck did this come from all of a sudden?! "Please..." you whispered, sounding mentally drained. "Don't pretend you didn't know this was coming. If you don't want me anymore you should have said something sooner." Pdero jerked his head back, blinking in shock. "What the hell are you talking about, Y/N?" You are full on sobbing now, your words just an unintelligible jumble. "I'm coming over, right now!" "No, please-" "I'm coming over!" he cut you off bluntly and hung up the phone.

His hands shook as he started up the engine and it took all of his willpower to not floor it to your house. Getting pulled over for speeding is the last thing he needs right now. The whole way over, his mind was a frantic mess. What could have happened between the last time he saw you (which was only yesterday) and now? Did he say something? Do something? When he got to your house, he practically flew from the car, his fist pounding on your front door almost as hard as his heart was pounding behind his ribs. "Baby open up, please. I'm not leaving until you talk to me." A few moments later the door cracked open and there you stood, puffy eyed and blotchy faced. Your lips had swollen and your nose shone red from crying.

Pedro could have cried himself from the state you're in. Without a second thought he pushed his way through the door and swept you into his arms, cupping the back of your head to his chest. To his relief, instead of pushing him away, you encircled your arms around his waist, holding him tight. He reached back to close the door behind him, then guided you to the setee, sitting beside you. "Now, what's all this about, hmm? I know this isn't what you really want." You shook your head, a small humourless laugh escaping you. "Of course it's not, but deep down I think it's what you want."

Pedro's forefinger gently tipped your chin up so you were looking into his eyes; big puppy dog eyes filled hurt, confusion and fear. "What I want?" His bottom lip twitched as if he was lost for words. You nod, wiping your cheeks. "W- why would you ever think something like that, sweetheart?" Pedro's shocked expression now has you doubting yourself. Were you wrong? But how could you be? For a while, you've been trying to ignore the feeling that he was slipping away but looking at him now... It's like he'd never even entertained the idea of leaving you. All this uncertainty is giving you whiplash and you can't hold it in anymore. You need to get everything off your chest.

"I..." you trail off as you feel more tears gathering, ready to pour out along with all your insecurities. "...I feel like you don't want me around anymore..." you begin, chest shuddering with nerves and hiccups. "You never invite me to anything, whether it's to do with your public life or even your social life. I'm never included like a partner should be. I need you to be honest... Are you ashamed of me? Because sometimes I feel like you don't want to be seen with me and that you've been pulling away..." You're rambling now, but you just can't stop. "I know I'm not on the same level as you and there are so many beautiful women out there throwing themselves at your feet. Maybe I don't belong in your world. Maybe I'm not enough for you-" Pedro's hands on either side of your face stops your self deprecating tirade.

"Baby, don't you ever put yourself down like that again, you hear me?" You're shocked to see Pedro's cheeks are now wet too. "I'm sorry. Fucking hell! I'm so sorry I made you feel that way. I thought I was protecting you this whole time." "Protecting me?" you ask in bewilderment. Pedro gave you a sad smile. "I Know from years of experience that being in the spotlight is tough. It can be draining and I could see how hard it was for you." Pedro took one of your hands and turned it over, rubbing slow circles into your palm. When you realised what he meant by that action, he nodded and kissed your forehead.

"I know you tried to hide it from me, but I noticed every time." "I'm sorry," you mumbled, shame burning your cheeks. "No." Pedro squeezed your hand. "You never apologise for that. I'm the one who's sorry. I was afraid if I mentioned it, you deny it for my sake, so I stopped asking you to come with me thinking it was the best thing for you." Pedro exhaled and your heart ached for him, seeing the guilt and remorse crushing him. "I didn't think it would have looked like I never want you around, 'cause the truth is I miss you, EVERY GODDAMN TIME I have to attend these things without you. I want you with me, now and forever. I'll tell you what..." he looked to be carefully considering his next words. "if you feel up for it, come with me to the next event and if you feel overwhelmed at any point, you tell me and we'll take some time out or even leave."

More tears fall, but this time from sheer relief. You hadn't realised you'd dropped your head again until Pedro, once again, lifted your chin. He looked into your eyes with a fierce and passionate determination. "Now, I'll say this only once; I'm not ashamed of you, we are on the same level, you are more than enough for me and you ARE my world. I love you, so much!" You couldn't fight the beaming smile that practically split your face and you grabbed Pedro by the collar of his jacket, crashing your lips against his.

A surprised "Oomph!" came from his throat and you felt him smile against your mouth. His hands slid to your waist and he pulled you flush to his upper body. His tongue licked your lips and you opened them, allowing him to deepen then kiss; a kiss filled with love, reassurance and a promise of forever. Pedro then broke the kiss, pulling you into a hug. "I love you too," you whispered into his ear. "And I'm sorry, I should have told you how I was feeling instead of keeping it from you." Pedro cupped your cheek, wiping away a tear. "I'm sorry too, for making that decision for you instead of talking to you."

You let out a lighthearted chuckle, Pedro's frown softening at the sound. "I guess it was just bad communication on both our parts." "Yeah..." he agreed. "Let's make a promise to each other, right now; that we'll always be open and honest with each other and not keep things bottled up." "I promise," you smile and kiss the tip of his nose. "And I promise, too," he returned the kiss. With all the tension drained from your body, you suddenly feel exhausted and can't stop the big yawn taking over you. Pedro smiled at you, adoringly. "I think we should get you to bed, sweetheart." He stood up, picking you up off the setee and made his way to your bedroom.

"Will you stay tonight?" You whisper as you snuggle into his neck, inhaling the scent you love so much. "Of course I will." He kissed the crown of your head. While you used the bathroom, pedro changed into a pair of PJ bottoms and an old T-shirt he'd left here for when he'd stay over. He used the bathroom after you, rushing through brushing his teeth just so he could return to you sooner. Walking into the bedroom, he laughed to himself when all could see was your eyes peeking at him from the edge of the quilt, which was pulled up to cover your nose. God, you look adorable. Your eyes creased in the corners as you laughed under the cover, then pulled it away for him to settle in next to you.

Pedro laid on his back, lifting his arm for you to snuggle into him. Sighing happily, you lay your head on his broad chest and lace a leg over his hips, the steady thump of his heartbeat and the warmth of his body soothing you instantly. "I love you." You tipped your head up to kiss him softly on his lips. "I love you too," he purred, tightening his arms around you. It didn't take you more than ten minutes to drop off, judging by your slow breaths. Pedro, on the other hand, stayed awake long after you'd dropped off, just relishing the feeling of holding you in his arms. He feels sick to his stomach when he thinks about how close he came to losing you tonight, and all because of a misunderstanding.

He thinks of the ring he's been carrying around, how he almost lost the opportunity to give it to you. Well, he won't wait any longer. If tonight has taught him anything, it's that nothing is guaranteed in life and, even though he never once doubted you'd say yes, just your devastated reaction to believing you'd lost him proves that you love and need him as much as he does you. Tomorrow he'll ask you; He'll wine and dine you at your favourite restaurant, take you on a stroll along the beach and then, he'll get down on one knee and invite you to share the rest of your life with him.

@greenwitchfromthewoods @picketniffler @liciafonseca @misscornelia13 @missadangel @southernbe

[hungermakesmonsters]

The Red Ribbon

Chapter One

Plot Summary : By day you’re Billy Russo’s clumsy PA, but by night you’re a host at New York City’s most exclusive gentlemen's club. At The Red Ribbon everyone is anonymous and masks conceal the identities of patrons and hosts alike. But your two lives are about to collide and Billy Russo is about to see a whole new side of you without even realising it..

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R 

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Smutty behaviour. All chapters will deal with smutty themes and include mentions/suggestions of sex work/work at a gentlemen's club (don't like, don't read). Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

Word Count : 6k

A/N : This is a little something I've been toying with for a while. It's only going to be a short thing (3 parts) over the next few weeks. There's no upload schedule but it'll probably be posting on Fridays anyway 😅 Also I've been ill all week so that's my excuse for typos

Master List

Chapter One

“Remind me why I hired you?”

His voice was a cold snap that caused your cheeks to burn with embarrassment. Even on his birthday, your boss was an asshole.

Your hands trembled as you tried to restack the files that you’d clumsily manage to drop all over his office floor. The contents of the files had spilled out and you already knew that it was going to take you hours to make sure the correct paperwork ended up back where it was supposed to be.

“It wasn’t a rhetorical question,” he added a moment later. “Why did I hire you?”

“Because your other assistants keep quitting,” you muttered under your breath.

It was humiliating, scrabbling around on his office floor, the carpet scrapping your bare knees as you tried to pick everything up as quickly as possible.

“What was that?” He asked.

It was reasonable to guess that he hadn’t heard you - you were certain he would have been a lot angrier if he’d heard you. Still, you hated yourself for letting it slip out. As much as you hated the way your boss treated you, the pay was good. Too good to quit.

“I said I’m sorry Mr Russo,” you answered softly, managing to grab the last of the files and get back to your feet. “I’ll get these sorted and have them on your desk first thing in the morning.”

“I hope you’re planning on staying late.”

“What?” The word spilled from your lips before you had the chance to stop it.

“Do you have somewhere else to be? Something more important than fixing your fuck up and doing the job I pay you to do?” Mr Russo asked.

As a matter of fact, you did have somewhere else to be and something that was more important than fixing the potential Anvil candidate files that you’d managed to dump all over his office floor, but you couldn’t tell him that.  

There was only one person who knew how you spent your nights, and it certainly wasn’t your boss. No, if Billy Russo knew where you went after your days at Anvil, he’d see to it that he had your resignation in his hand by the end of the day. And you were sure the same could be said of your night job.

“No, Mr Russo,” you answered, dropping your gaze to the floor, “I don’t have anywhere more important to be.”

“Good answer,” he said as he grabbed his suit jacket from the back of his chair and pulled it on. He moved towards his office door, stepping past you as if you were just another piece of furniture, a spare chair in the way. “And don’t even think about leaving that unfinished. I’ll be in at 5am so you’re not going to have the opportunity to sneak in early tomorrow to finish up.”

He didn’t even wait for a half-hearted ‘yes, Mr Russo’ before leaving for the day.

You glanced at your watch, doing the maths in your head; you should have been finishing in ten minutes time, at five o’clock, which would have given you three hours to get home, eat, and then get across town to work your night job.

The Red Ribbon was New York's most exclusive gentlemen's club - though to call it a gentlemen’s club was somewhat outdated as, these days, it catered to the needs and desires of wealthy clientele regardless of gender identity and sexual orientation. But, it had been considered a gentlemen’s club since the 1950s, and the verbiage was surprisingly hard to shake. 

The club offered something that few similar establishments did; total anonymity for both guests and workers. There were no cameras in The Red Ribbon, no phones or recording devices were allowed. And everyone wore masks. The only way to tell the staff from the clientele were the red ribbons worn about their necks.

You’d been working at The Red Ribbon for the last six months. At the start you’d tended bar, not wanting to get too hands-on with the customers - not because you had any strong feelings or moral objections about those that did, but mostly because you didn’t think you’d be any good at it. You’d never been the sort to consider yourself graceful, much less sexy, but you could make a mean espresso martini and you were great with pointless smalltalk. 

The money was good, but it wasn’t good enough, not when you had debts and financial obligations. 

At The Red Ribbon, the hosts made the most money, each getting assigned to one of the private rooms and being tasked with taking care of the customers' needs for the whole night. It was ultimately up to the host what taking care of the customer entailed though boundaries were firmly established before the host set foot in the private room. Every host had their own limits, some were happy to touch and be touched, some took it further still, and others preferred a hands-off approach.

If there was one thing The Red Ribbon was known for beyond the total anonymity it offered, it was the level of security. Everyone who set foot through the doors knew better than to cause trouble or push the boundaries of any member of staff.

You’d made the switch from bartender to host slowly, filling in whenever someone was out sick or when you needed a little extra money. You were slow to warm to it but, to your surprise, you found that you actually enjoyed it. Though you stayed firmly in the no touching or being touched camp, the tips you made in one night were still more than you made over a whole week tending bar.

But, when that money still wasn’t enough to cover your debts, you took a day job.

And that was how you’d ended up spending an evening hunched over a desk at Anvil, trying desperately to match paperwork with the correct file for a boss who’d made it pretty clear that he didn't like you and thought you were too inept for your job.

By the time you were done, you barely had the chance to make it home and shower and, instead of eating a proper meal, you ate a Snickers bar on the subway.

The Red Ribbon had a special entrance for staff that used old prohibition tunnels and a hidden elevator to get you into the building and up to the top floor. 

New York was stunning from fifty floors up and, some nights, you’d find yourself in the locker room just staring out at the skyline as you changed into your uniform. But tonight you didn’t have the luxury of time.

You stood in front of the schedule, checking which room you were in and which mask you’d be wearing. While bar staff and servers all wore the same elegant black and red masks  to obscure their faces, hosts wore individual masks that corresponded with the room they’d be working. Tonight you were in the rabbit room, so you plucked the ornate rabbit mask from its hook on the wall.

Of all the masks, the rabbit had always been your favourite because of the detailing on the ears and the way it just sat right on your face.

You always got such a rush from pulling a mask on and heading out into the club. Under any other circumstance the thought of walking around in a revealing black bodysuit would have been embarrassing, but once you had your mask on, you felt almost powerful, like a superhero with a secret identity. With the mask, you weren’t you, you were whatever part you were playing and tonight you were Bunny, and Bunny could be whoever you wanted her to be.

The last part of your uniform was the red ribbon that you tied around your neck, the very thing that distinguished staff from customers, and gave the club its name.

You gave yourself one last look in the floor to ceiling mirror, making sure that you looked ready to handle whatever the night had to throw at you, before finally stepping out into the main area of the club.

Once you passed the threshold, everything about you changed; you held your head high and walked through the club like you owned the place. Here you weren’t the quiet little PA who had to keep her mouth shut in case her boss decided to fire her. Here you called the shots.

The spring in your step became even more noticeable as you climbed the stairs and headed onto the walkway that led to the private rooms, each situated above the dancefloor with views of the whole club. 

“Hey, lil Bunny,” an all too familiar face said.

You grinned from ear to ear at the sight of Rocky, one of the club's security guards, a man, who in any other circumstances would terrify you.  He was a huge behemoth of a man, truly deserving of the title Built Like a Brick Shit-House. To the patrons, he was the one they didn’t want to get on the bad side of, but to you and the rest of the staff, he was safety incarnate.

“Hey, Rocky,” you said, bumping fists with him as you came to a stop in front of him.

He’d taken something of a shine to you on your first night at The Red Ribbon - he later told you it was because you reminded him of his sister who’d died only a few years before. Since then he’d always kept a close eye on you.

After bumping fists, you kept your arm outstretched so he could fit your security bracelet for the night; a very ornate looking panic button that you could use discreetly if you needed Rocky to deal with a problem customer. 

“You let me know if you need anything,” he said softly but seriously.

And, with that, you were on your way again, slipping into the rabbit room with a few minutes to spare before your guest arrived. You did a quick sweep of the room, making sure everything was tidy before turning on the music and checking the bar and, finally, you lowered the lights.

Less than five minutes later, a group of men were shown into the room, each wearing plain black masks that covered the top half of their faces, and each dressed to the club's high standards. Though, just from looking at them you could tell that some were more comfortable in suits than others.

“Welcome to The Red Ribbon, I’m Bunny and I’ll be your host for the evening and I’ll be running the bar for you, so make yourselves comfortable and I’ll get you your first round,” you announced and, with a flourish of your hand, you waved them towards the sofas.

You took drink orders and made a point of saying a little personal hello to each of them, knowing that it’d help win you tips by the end of the night.

As far as groups went, they seemed decent enough, not exactly what you’d call reserved by any stretch, but they seemed to be happy to talk amongst themselves while you tended bar, not expecting anything more of you.

After about half an hour, one of them broke away from the group and headed towards the bar. You couldn’t help but watch him, taking in the perfect way that his suit fit his tall, slender frame. 

He took a seat on one of the stools at the bar and flashed you the sort of smile that you were sure had panties dropping all across the five boroughs on a regular basis.

“What can I get you?” You asked.

“Another scotch would be great.”

“Sure thing.”

You were acutely aware of the way his eyes followed your every movement as you  grabbed a bottle and fresh glass with ice. Your skin felt like it was tingling under his gaze - he wasn’t leering, it felt more like he was appreciating. 

“Haven’t seen you here before,” he said.

For a second you wondered if it was a line - it certainly sounded like a line - but there was something in the way he was looking at you, something that made you think he was actually being serious.

“What makes you say that?” You asked in your playful voice, deciding to indulge him.

“I’d remember seeing you.”

He wasn’t shy about drinking in the sight of you. At any other time you might have felt disgusted, but it was part of the job and you probably would have been more offended if he  wasn’t checking you out.

“Hmm, and what exactly is it you think you’d remember?” You retorted playfully.

He grinned at that, a laugh rumbling in his chest. And his eyes - fuck, his dark eyes almost seemed to twinkle.

“I’m not sure it’d be considered polite if I was to get... anatomical,” he joked.

“It’s my ass, isn’t it?” You offered offhandedly, breaking any tension or sense of shame.

His grin grew wider, though there was a hint of surprise on his face too, like he hadn’t quite expected you to be so forward.

“Now that you mention it, you do have a very nice ass,” he agreed, “in fact that whole thigh-ass area is perfection.”

You could feel warmth spreading across your cheeks and down your neck, and you were glad of the low lights and the mask on your face. While you were used to comments on your body and what men wanted to do with you while working, there was something different about this. This felt like flirting. Honest to god flirting. And it had been a long time since anyone had tried to flirt with you.

Out in the real world, his comment would have turned you into a shy mess, but behind the bunny mask... well, let’s just say that Bunny wanted to play.

“Oh, a thigh man as well?” 

“I’m a man of refined tastes,” he shrugged.

His grin had you wishing you could see the rest of his face. You were already trying to picture what he might look like behind the mask but you were certain that your imagination was not doing it justice.

“And what else does that taste extend to?” You asked, leaning across the bar a little more as you slid his drink towards him.

His fingers briefly covered yours - rougher than you’d expected - before you slowly pulled your hand away. For a split second, you felt your breath catch, and there was a flicker of something on his face that made you think he’d felt it too, that moment of electricity when you’d touched.

“Are we still talking anatomically? Because I’d be lying if I said I haven’t been thinking about your tits for the last five minutes.”

Again, it wasn’t the sort of comment you’d put up with in any other situation but, then and there, in a place where you held all the power, you liked hearing it. The fact that he’d been allowed into The Red Ribbon meant that he was someone, that he was rich and powerful, so for poor, boring you to be the object of his desires gave a thrill like no other.

You let slip another laugh, propping yourself against the bar with a hand beneath your chin, eyes fixed on Mr Tall, Dark and Playful.

“Only the last five minutes?” You said, almost sounding distraught.

“Oh, you’re trouble, Bunny,” he remarked, leaning towards you as he lifted his drink and took a slow sip.

“I get the feeling that you like trouble.”

“You have no idea...”

It would have been a lie to say that the temptation to carry on the flirtatious conversation wasn’t increasing with every passing second; it was fun, you were actually enjoying it rather than just being subjected to it. But he wasn’t the only person in the room who wanted your attention and you had a job to do. 

“Looks like your friends want some attention too,” you said, nodding your head towards the group of men still sitting at the table. One of them was waving you over, obviously in desperate need of another drink.

“Animals, the lot of them,” he said, almost fondly. “I should have known they had selfish reasons for bringing me here on my birthday.”

“It’s your birthday?” You asked and received a nod in response, before shaking your head and muttering; “another Sagittarius...”

“Another?” 

You looked at him, almost embarrassed that you’d let it slip out and that you’d blurred the line between your real life and Bunny.

“Just a guy I know,” you shrugged.

“He break your heart or something? Need me and the guys to pay him a visit?” He offered playfully.

Another laugh escaped you and you couldn’t help but think about how strange it felt to be able to genuinely laugh with one of the customers. After months of perfecting your customer service laugh, you’d never expected to find yourself actually laughing at some off-handed comment. Especially when the comment was about a stranger going to beat the shit out of your boss for being mean to you.

“No, it’s okay. I can handle myself.”

“I’ll bet you can, Bunny.”

“Well,” you said, definitively, changing the subject and taking your thoughts away from your terrible day-boss, “happy birthday. I think you deserve something fancy to drink.”

He grinned as you turned away to fish a bottle of champagne from the wine fridge and grab enough glasses for him and his friends.

“This place is really somethin’ else,” a second voice said. “I know you said the girls were pretty but... holy shit.”

Tall, Dark and Playful gave a laugh.

“Prettiest girls in New York are all right here,” he said, clapping his friend on the back.

“Careful boys, my ears are burning,” you joked as you turned back to them.

“It's a beautiful woman's fate to be the subject of conversation wherever she goes,” he said.

“Didn't expect to hear anyone quoting Dorian Gray tonight,” you answered back, amused.

He looked almost surprised by the comment, his jaw dropped slightly and his eyes grew a little wider.

“You’ve read Dorian Gray?” He asked. “You like to read?”

“Does that surprise you?” You asked, your mask hiding the way your eyebrow rose. “Do you not think girls like me can read the classics?”

“No, it’s not that, it’s -” he glanced at his friend beside him, then to the group sitting at the table. You couldn’t hear what they were saying but from some of the hand gestures being made, you could guess that it was something filthy, “- it’s just that I'm not used to being around people who can actually read.”

He got a rough punch in the arm from the guy beside him for that, and you started to laugh again. 

They continued to talk while you popped the champagne and started to fill glasses for the whole party. You placed one in front of the birthday boy, and one in front of his friend, before loading up a tray and taking the rest to the party at the table.

“Champagne to toast the birthday boy,” you said with a cheeky smile, earning a round of cheers from the men.

When you returned to the bar, Tall and Dark’s friend passed you, heading back to the group, leaving the birthday boy all alone.

“Not gonna drink with your friends?” You asked.

It was hard not to feel curious - it was part of the job, the masks, the hidden identities, there were always so many unanswered questions.

“I’ve never been one for birthdays,” he answered with a shrug, but still shot you a smile before lifting his champagne flute to his lips.

“Hmm so the mysterious, handsome stranger has a tragic backstory,” you said playfully.

“I don’t know if I’d call it tragic,” he said, his shoulder ticking upwards uncomfortably.

“Should I ask?”

Probably not, you thought. But some part of you wanted to know, wanted to prod and poke until you had him all figured out.

“My mother abandoned me a few hours after I was born,” he stated flatly.

Oh.

Shit.

You didn’t expect him to laugh when he looked at you again, his head shaking. “Don’t look so shocked, it was a long time ago and I’ve come a long way since then.”

“I just -” the confidence of Bunny slipped for a moment, leaving only you; the clumsy girl with a heart that often felt far too big, “- I’m sorry, I shouldn’t’ve joked...”

“It’s fine, really. I’ve had plenty of time to get over it. Besides, the way I figure it, she did me a favour. You want soft kids, coddle them and treat them well.”

“Wouldn't know anything about that,” you said with a wry smile. “My parents definitely didn't coddle us.”

“No?”

“Nope.”

“That all I'm getting?” He asked, smiling that playful smile again.

“Getting personal defeats the point of the masks, don't you think?” You retorted, leaning to top up his drink.

“I suppose,” he answered, pausing for a beat before continuing, “I guess you could tell me anything and I'd have to take your word for it.”

“You don't strike me as the sort of man who's trusting enough to do something like that.”

It was something you could see in his eyes, the way they took you in and watched every little flicker of emotion that crossed your face.

“Then why don't we play a game?” He offered. “We each get to ask a question, and you get to call the other out if you think they’re lying. And if I catch you in a lie, you have to tell me something true.”

Your eyes narrowed a little, trying to get a measure of him. Normally you were reasonably good at reading people - though maybe a lot of that came from working various PA and secretarial positions, needing to be able to anticipate your boss’ shitty moods.

“Okay, you’re on,” you agreed, “but a few ground rules; you’re not allowed to ask about who I am or anything that might identify me.”

“Sounds fair.” He lifted his champagne and took a slow drink but his eyes never left you. “What are you most afraid of?”

That caught you off guard. It was more serious than you’d anticipated.

“You could ask me almost anything, but that’s what you want to know?” 

“You can tell a lot about a person by what they’re scared of,” he said, shrugging.

You took a second to consider your answer.

“Jellyfish.”

“Really, Bunny, you’re gonna lie right outta the gate?” 

“Okay, fine,” you said with a huff, hating that he’d caught you out already. “I guess I’m most scared of dying alone, but jellyfish are a close second.”

“You think you’re gonna die alone?” He asked.

There was something in his voice that seemed to suggest he didn’t get it, or maybe it was that he thought it would never happen. Little did he know that you - the real you - didn’t exactly have the best luck with men.

“That’s two questions. Don’t I get a turn?” You asked, deciding to dodge his question.

Tall and Dark relented and gave a wave of his hand.

“What do you hate most about New York?” 

“Hate?” He repeated.

“Everyone always loves the same things about the city, but most people hate something different,” you explained.

You watched him closely as he considered his answer, looking for anything that might tell you if he was about to lie to you.

“The subway. It stinks of piss and there’s always too many people.”

You had to give him that one for obvious reasons, though he didn’t strike you as the kind of guy who used the subway all that often.

“When was the last time you used the subway?”

“That’s two questions, Bunny,” he chided playfully.

“Fine. Your turn.”

“What did you want to be when you were a kid?”

“What? You think that this wasn’t my career goal?” You said, barely holding back a laugh as you shook your head. “I don’t know, I went through a lot of phases; I wanted to be a vet until I lost my first hamster, wanted to be a doctor until my brother broke his arm, and I wanted to be a lawyer but I have a conscience...”

The birthday boy laughed with you, smiling at you, obviously happy enough with your answer because he didn’t call you out, making it your turn again.

“What’s your favourite place in New York?” You asked.

“Right here,” he said. “Right now. With you.”

“Yikes, what a line,” you said, smirking at him despite the heat in your cheeks. “Do lines like that usually work for you?”

“Normally I don’t need lines.”

“No?”

“People - women - usually make their minds up about me pretty quickly, and it’s rarely because of anything I have to say,” he explained.

You watched as he lifted his glass and drained his drink. Without needing to be asked, you refilled his glass. There was a pang of sadness in you, for him, for what he obviously had to go through.

“You must be pretty rich then,” you said, managing to keep the playful tone.

“Oh filthy rich,” he confirmed.

“Emphasis on the filthy part.”

He smirked at that.

The longer the conversation went on, the stranger it felt; it didn’t feel like work anymore, and you almost wished that it wasn’t. But moments like this didn’t happen to you out in the real world. He probably wouldn’t even look at you twice if he saw you in the light of day.

“Anyway, I call bullshit. There must be somewhere you like better than here, even if you are enjoying my company,” you said.

“Alright,” he conceded with an almost rueful smile, “there’s a baseball field in Brooklyn. I used to go there when I was a kid to watch other kids play...”

There was more to it, even you could tell that much, but it seemed personal - far more personal than you were prepared to get with him.

“You like baseball?”

“Liked,” he said, correcting you and adding another layer of uncertainty. “And that’s two questions.”

“Sorry, I’m not used to playing games when I’m tending bar,” you said, topping up his glass again before glancing towards his friends. “And, on that note...”

Again, you felt his eyes on you as you moved around the bar and headed to his friends, checking that everyone was having a good time and taking orders for fresh drinks.

“Think you’ve made the birthday boy’s night,” one of them said.

“Yeah, normally he slips out of his birthday parties after the first hour,” another commented, and they all laughed.

And, as you made your way back towards the bar (towards him), you couldn’t help but wonder what his birthdays were usually like.

“Hope they weren’t giving you any trouble,” he said as you slipped behind the bar and put the empty glasses you’d gathered to the side so you could start getting fresh drinks.

“No, you’ve all been perfect gentlemen,” you said, smiling at him, your face obviously showing some degree of relief because he quickly commented on it.

“Are there times when guys aren’t gentlemen?” He asked.

There was something in his tone, a hint of - what? - protectiveness, or anger maybe. 

“Sometimes, but that’s what Rocky is for,” you said, nodding your head towards the door.

“The big guy?” He asked and you nodded. “Yeah, I wouldn’t fancy my chances with him.”

Filling a tray with the fresh drinks, you went back to the table and passed them around before heading back to him again, taking up the spot on the opposite side of the bar from him, leaning your elbow on the bartop.

“So,” you said, almost decidedly, “want to tell me why you’re spending your birthday night out talking to me and not with your friends?”

He seemed to hesitate, but only for a split second.

“I thought it was my turn.”

“It is,” you conceded, “if you want to keep playing, but I think you might enjoy your birthday more if you spent it with friends.”

“We could be friends.”

“Friends don’t check out each other's asses, handsome.”

“Oh, so you’ve been checking out my ass?” He said as a grin tugged at his lips.

“What can I say?” You shrugged. “Something about men in well tailored pants drives me wild.”

The birthday boy let out another laugh, and it was such a happy sound that he drew glances from his friends, all of them wondering just what it was you’d said to manage to get a response like that from him.

He grabbed his glass and got to his feet.

“This isn’t over, Bunny,” he said before heading towards his friends.

Over the rest of the night, you found yourself watching him, always coming up with a teasing or playful remark whenever you went across to get them fresh drinks (oh, you wanted a drink, I just thought you wanted to stare at my ass again and I know how much you enjoy watching me walk away).

And he watched you, too.

Your skin prickled with goosebumps under his attention and you quickly came to love the sensation. Never in all your time working at The Red Ribbon had you felt such a connection with a guest, and you probably never would again.

So, when they all finally stood to leave, you felt a pang of regret - you shouldn’t have sent him back to his friends, you should have kept him with you so you could talk more.

Each of the guys said their thanks, each dropping bills into the tip jar by the door on their way out.

One of them stopped and looked at you, a smirk on his lips. “Thanks. I dunno what you said to him but I ain’t seen him like this in a long time.”

Your heart stuttered, not sure what it was you could have done to inspire such a change in a man you didn’t even know.

You noticed him linger as the door swung shut behind the last of his friends and, at any other time, that would be cause for concern but something told you that you weren’t in danger. Not from him. 

“Something else I can help you with?” You asked, as playful as ever.

“Plenty,” he said, his smile dropping a little. “But everything I want would break the rules, and the last thing I want is to get banned when there’s a chance I might see you again.”

It was sweet how oddly accepting he was of how things were, how they had to be. It made it harder to watch him walk away knowing that you might not see him again. You’d never felt such an instant connection with a stranger before, especially not a stranger who’d seen this side of you, a stranger who knew what you did for a living and didn’t judge you for it.

Against your better judgement, you leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek, dangerously close to the corner of his mouth, before pulling back slightly. You lingered close, watching the way the corner of his lip ticked upwards and heard the slightest catch of his breath.

“Well, here’s hoping you can tell who I am the next time you see me,” you offered in little more than a whisper.

Slowly, cautiously, his hand lifted to your face and you felt your heart skip a beat. It was the barest of touches, so light that he might not have even touched you at all, but you felt a warmth spread across your skin nonetheless.

“I’ll know, Bunny,” he said with a certainty that sent a shiver down your spine. “I’m gonna find you again.”

“Promises, promises,” you joked, wanting to keep the mood light, knowing that the odds of seeing him again were small. And, with that thought, you found yourself leaning forward again, this time pressing your lips to his for the briefest of seconds. “Something to remember me by.”

Then you stepped back, creating space between your body and his, a silent signifier that the night was over.

“I will find you,” he said again. “I always get what I want, Bunny, one way or another.”

“Happy birthday, handsome,” you said, avoiding answering his comment.

He gave you one last look, drinking in the sight of you from head to toe, and you felt your whole body warm in response. Then he left, leaving you alone with your racing heart and the promise that you’d see him again. 

It should have worried you; the way he’d spoken to you, the way he’d been looking, and the fact that he wanted to find you again. But it didn’t. Instead of worry, all you felt was want, even if you knew that the man behind the mask might be someone completely different. Even if you knew the man behind the mask probably wouldn’t be interested in who you were when you weren’t playing Bunny.

Later that night as you laid in bed, your vibrator between your thighs and his dark eyes in your mind, you wondered what he was doing. Your eyes closed tight, picturing him standing over you, watching as you fucked yourself. He’d smile that playful smile down at you and slowly grip his cock - and, fuck, his cock was probably as perfect as the rest of him.

You longed to know what he looked like beneath the mask and beneath the expensive clothes.

You wanted to know what it felt like to be touched by him, for him to kiss you and hold you. For him to fuck you.

No matter what you imagined as you slid the vibrator in and out your body, your thoughts continued to return to one thing; his eyes. You wanted to get lost in them, wanted to make him laugh and see them sparkle. You wanted to see them darken with need as he fucked you and took what he wanted from you.

I always get what I want, he’d told you. And he wanted you.

A loud moan tore from your lips as you came, your whole body shivering with pleasure at the thought of this strange and alluring man getting what he wanted from you.

Then, with a heavy sigh, you sank back on your bed and curled up, the usual feelings of insecurity quickly filling you again.

He’d probably forget all about you; everything he’d said had probably just been to try and get something more than you’d been prepared to give. He’d probably already forgotten you...

Little did you know that, across town, Billy Russo was fisting his cock to thoughts of you without knowing it was you he was thinking of, his hand stroking up and down his length as he stood in the shower. He jerked off to thoughts of your body, your laugh, your smile. He pictured all the ways that he wanted you, his Bunny, all the things he wanted to do.

Your plump and pretty lips would look good wrapped around his cock, and your plush thighs would no doubt feel amazing wrapped around his head as he feasted on your cunt. 

He licked his lips for what must have been the hundredth time since you kissed him and was, yet again, disappointed that there was no lingering taste of you.

As he came, he knew that he had to have you. He would find you again, and he would make you his if it was the last thing he did.

A/N : I feel weird when I don't post on a Friday, so here's a new thing 😅 like I said at the start, this will just be a short, sweet thing (3 parts and done), but hopefully it'll be a lot of fun and a little bit more playful/light-hearted compared to Love, Sick Love. (And I promise no cliffhanger ending to this one 😅) If you've played TellTale's The Wolf Among Us, that's where I got the ribbon idea from (well that and that old ghost story... but no ones head is going to fall off in this, I promise).

As always, let me know if you want to be tagged. I'm not going to full commit to posting every Friday for this because I work in retail and, as you can imagine, it's hectic at the moment, but I want to try and post at least once a week since this is only going to be a short story.

Anyway, thanks for reading!

Also I can't remember if anyone else asked to be tagged in all future Billy stories, if I've missed you please shout at me.

Tag List : @lincerad @xxxsweetcarolinexxx

[rainroses45]

Cherry Pie with Whip

ᥫ᭡description: Dean thinks there is not a single coherent thought behind those eyes, you prove him wrong ish Dean Winchester x Bimbo Fem! Reader ᥫ᭡a/n: I can't write the whole smut thing BUT I LOVE GIRLY POP READER SO MUCH ALSO LOVE THIS SONG SO VERY MUCH (Not Edited) ᥫ᭡song inspo: Every Man Gets his wish - Lana Del Rey ᥫ᭡warning: mentions of the devils tango

"Dean, I don't get it," you whined, your new glossy pink nails tapped against the table as you tilted your head, lips in a perfect pout. "Why does it have to be salt? Can't we just, like, use sugar or something? It's prettier."

Dean smirked, the corner of his mouth twitching as he stepped closer, his boots heavy against the floor. "Sweetheart, if sugar worked on ghosts, trust me, l'd be throwing cupcakes at 'em." His voice dripped with amusement, “next time you can add glitter to the salt.”

You smiled up at him, your top hitched up as you reached over to place your hands around Dean’s neck. He squeezed you closer to him, pushing your bosoms up.

“Have I ever told you how much I love cherries,” he gazed into your eyes. The fresh coat of mascara and the shimmery eyeshadow made you look like a lost innocent baby doe.

“We should go get cherry pie,” you smiled innocently, unaware of the tall older man starring down your shirt. Your cleavage on full display for his lust full eyes.

“I think I got something better here.” He smirked. “Something bigger and juicier to fill me up.”

“Oh yeah,” you smiled, “maybe we can get some whip cream on top?”

“Now we are talking, got to keep my blood sugar in check.” He lifted you up, your legs wrapping around his waist which caused his shirt to ride up displaying his delicious v-line. Your clotthed cunt rubbing against his abdominal instinctively.

Dean groaned as his hands squeezed your heart shaped ass. You laced your fingers into his hair steadying yourself from floating away from the moment, Dean noticed the fog begin to form in your eyes. “I wonder sometimes if there is ever a coherent thought behind those y/e/c eyes.”

You softly pulled the ends of your boyfriend’s hair in response, “hey don’t be mean,” you pouted.

“You know what I mean princess,” Dean kissed up your neck towards the sensitive spot that he knew would make you weak. You moaned causing your chest to rise further up Dean’s face.

“where did you learn how to be such a tease?” Dean mumbled in your ear nibbling at the skin.

“what does that mean?” You asked.

Dean stopped his actions to view your face, trying to figure out if you were actually joking.

“Honey, do you not know what tease means?” He asked to which you shook your head.

“Do you know about sex?” You nodded.

“Are you sure?” Dean asked again, “I don’t want to pressure you in anything sweetheart, you are in control.”

“I learned how to make love from the movies.” You blushed, hiding away from his gaze. Dean chuckled at your innocent response, before feeling guilty, had he known your level of knowledge on the topic he wouldn’t have been so forward.

“Aww sweetheart that’s nothin’ be ashamed about,” you still avoided his gaze, “why don’t you show me what you learned and I could help you out…wouldn’t that be nice sweet cheeks.” Dean kissed up to your face, trying to pry your hands away from his face. “Of course with your consent and approval it’s all up to you.” You nodded, still a little embarrassed from your previous statement.

Dean smiled fondly at you, “I promise to make you feel so good you’ll be seeing stars sugar.”

“Really?” You moved your hands away excitingly. “Just like in pretty woman?” You asked.

“Even better.” He pecked your lips. “Just say the words princess and I’m on my knees.”

“You’re so sweet Dean.” You blushed kissing his cheek. “How can I ever repay you?”

“I got a few ways but first things first I got to take care of my baby girl.”

[lifeland]

You know, I should read Fahrenheit 451. I've heard a lot about it. When I was a kid, I didn't give it a chance because I wrote it off as "Books are good and those damn kids don't read enough these days." That is an incredible embarrassment for me.

Are streaming services and digital marketplaces more convenient than physical media? I think most of my peers would argue, "yes; yes they are" and they'd be largely correct. But ostensibly how correct depends on the world we live in. Is it that digital media is inherently more convenient or is the world that we live in engineered to *make* it more convenient?

As houses get larger, the physical space available to consumers to store media gets smaller. Most modern computers no longer have cd drives. There are no disk readers for phones/bluetooth-headphone compatible walkmen. Improvements and adjustments to digital goods are exclusively published through digital marketplaces. Modern video games no longer allow you to host multiplayer on your own computer.

Why do they do this? Easy. Because it allows them to double-dip on what they charge you; take away access through a digital marketplace for a while, charge you again to get the same content. But it's also to control what you see. In a digital marketplace, you have no control over what shelf you walk over to first.

I don't know much about Fahrenheit 451 yet, but I think I understand one of it's messages is "If you don't take care about what you give your attention to, eventually your ability to chose what your attention goes to is taken from you."

Now is a good time to buy and use physical media.

Do you have a favorite movie? Is it queer? X-rated? Do you still have your old video game CDs or cartridges? Is the book you want to read at risk of being banned?

Do you think the media you enjoy may be at risk in the coming years?

Please start buying and using physical media. CDs, cartridges, books, records, DVDs, everything. Streaming services are continually removing media and becoming more hostile, and after this election, tons of media are at risk of being outlawed entirely.

Dig out that old VHS or DVD player, get your old Wii system running, and collect that entire book series that you read as a kid. Your dad's old cassette full of divorced dad rock songs is probably lying around somewhere. If you have a favorite artist who posts their work online, buy their art book. Get something you can hold in your hands.

Use your local library if you can! They have all this and more! Most thrift shops have this stuff at an affordable price!

Plus, I can vouch that it's just more fun to have the physical copy.

If the government wanted to take this from you, they would have to come to you and rip it from your hands. Make it difficult for them to do so.

[4only1]

All I Want For Christmas Is You - Secret Santa Part 2 (4 Crews Edition)

Featuring: Jake Kim, Johan Seong, Samuel Seo, Eugene & Jerry Kwon Masterlist

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

Jake Kim

Alone sat you and Jake, waiting for the kettle to boil. He had apologized multiple times for his gift, saying you deserved better, but that Big Deal didn't have the funding.

When he first handed you the package of ramen, he couldn't even look you in the eyes. He was embarrassed that it was all he could get. A silly package of spicy ramen. They ate ramen everyday. He wanted to give you something special, this wasn't it.

“I'm sorry I couldn't get you anything else, seriously.” He apologized once more.

To be honest however, this couldn't be a more perfect gift to you. It was just you and Jake, the rest of Big Deal was out, so it left the two of you to enjoy a moment of solitude.

“Damn it. Seriously, I'm sorr-”

“Don't apologize for this. I love it. I like being alone with you.”

You turn to look Jake directly in the eyes as you speak. Your face has a light blush over it. Jake looked taken aback for a moment before speaking again, flirting a bit.

“Is it too late to make this a date?”

----------------------- Johan Seong

Johan handed you a pair of sneakers about 3 sizes too big for you. They were clearly worn before and smelled like it too. You took the pair, holding them as far away from you as possible.

“Oh Johan…how…sweet” Is really all you can say.

It was sweet, if they weren't gonna fall off your feet if you tried to wear them. Looking at Johan however, he gave you puppy dog eyes, hoping you liked his gift.

Even with his limited finances, he found a way to gift you something.

“Johan, let's go get food, I'll pay”

You swore you saw his imaginary tail wagging back and forth.

----------------------- Samuel Seo

“Why the fuck would I get you anything? What have you done for me?”

Sameul spoke with a disgusted look on his face. Like, how dare you have the audacity to ask him if he got you for secret santa. Which he did!

“Well excuse me for asking if you did the task you were assigned.” You defended yourself.

You shook your head, at both the audacity of this man and how you shouldn't have expected anything less than this behaviour. 

“You should be getting me a gift for how much of your shit I have to put up with”

The audacity grew.

----------------------- Eugene

Eugene stood in front of you with his usual close eyed smile. His hands were folded behind his back, while Mandeok held out a pair of keys to you.

You simply stared back, unsure of what the keys were for. Like with everything Eugene did, this had to come with a twist.

“Please (Y/n), accept the keys”

Eugene spoke in his disturbingly calm voice. With hesitation you took the keys, and when you did, Eugene's smile grew. Creepy.

“I'm so glad you accepted, now the car is downstairs, please arrive soon, we must leave quickly.”

That caused you to pause. Did he give you keys, to a car, just for you to drive him around?

“What? I am your chauffeur or something?” You question, joking a bit.

“Thank you for picking up on that so soon. I was worried you wouldn't have figured it out so quickly.”

You were just joking.

----------------------- Jerry Kwon

In Jerry's mind, each note was played with perfection. The meaning of the song was perfectly conveyed, displaying the genuine appreciation he had for you. His eyes were closed, waiting with anticipation to open them at the end and see your shocked face.

You did have a shocked look on your face, but not in the same sense Jerry was thinking. As he played, you winced everytime he would miss a note, but that didn't stop you from appreciating the hard work he put into this song.

Brad and Jason stood by your side, trying to hold in their laughter. As the song came to a close Jerry took a moment before opening his eyes, staring at you, waiting for your reaction.

Jason and Brad were about to burst out into laughter, when a sharp kick to both their shins from you silenced them. You looked at them, conveying the message, don't you dare laugh!

Tears were in your eyes, and you wiped a stray one away. Pride filled you as you turned towards Jerry.

“That was the most beautiful song I've ever heard. You wrote that for me! You're so talented!”

Part 1, Part 3

Welcome to part 2 of the secret santa series! 2 more parts to go, so don't feel worried if your favourite isn't on here quite yet. This series is meant to be something silly, not to be taken seriously, so if they act out of character, oh well.

Easiest to write for: Jerry Kwon

Hardest to write for: Eugene

[olailamajnoon]

Bruce got up from a coma to find that the Manor had become the site of a baking contest, with everyone who was anyone in the superhero community participating, either as contestant or judge.

"What the fuck," he croaked to Alfred the moment he could.

"Steady on, Master B," Alfred said staidly. "You had so many visitors in your...state, that I'm afraid Miss Cassandra and Miss Stephanie took horrible advantage of it. Master Richard reluctantly agreed, citing morale as the reason, although I suspect it may have just been his sweet tooth that won the day."

"Alfred," said Bruce wearily. "How likely is it that my awakening will go unnoticed."

"Your 'awakening', as you put it, although that word rather implies that you are a mummy—"

"...Alfred!"

"—will be noticed in no time. Master Clark has been...quite assiduous in his visitations."

"How assiduous?"

"He visits everyday, and checks on you twice or thrice. There is just no keeping him away. He has brought over Masters Jon and Conner. They are rather ahead on the scoreboard."

"There's a scoreboard?" Bruce rubbed his face. "Alfred, please tell me you have not taken part in any of this tomfoolery."

Alfred looked mildly guilt-stricken. "Well I'm afraid you see, sir, that I am...head judge."

"What about Selina?" asked Bruce, his head wandering.

"Miss Kyle has submitted her lioness, Nala, along with Master Damian's pet tiger, to the 'animal judges' section of the baking contest."

Bruce grit his teeth in annoyance. "The more I learn, the more I wish I had stayed in bed. But, I suppose, every buffoonery must end."

Alfred stopped in his tracks. "Buffoonery, sir?"

Bruce looked up at him, sliding on his gown. "Well surely you don't agree this should have been done?"

Alfred looked still. "Well, sir—"

He looked away. Bruce's hackles rose. "What?"

"You forget. The participants of this contest were not here for this...buffoonery, as you put it. They were here because they cared about you enough to drop their lives and come to your home, and stay with your children in their grief, and bake silly cakes that they probably had no interest in baking. They stood here as your heart rate fluctuated and stabilized, they supported each other and were stronger together. And the thing that bonded them was you, sir." Alfred turned to the heart rate monitor, and turned it off. He still had his back to Bruce. "Most persons would be lucky to have half so many people their lives, who cared half as much."

Bruce's face grew still. "Alfred, you don't think—that I don't appreciate it."

"Of course not, sir," said Alfred soothingly. "I know you have a hard time expressing your feelings. And some of the blame, I'm afraid, rests with me."

"No—"

"Yes, sir. I never taught you how to say thank you. You have many virtues, but I'm afraid gratitude's one that was missed." Alfred gathered up the sensors, and stuffed the syringes, tidying up. "So you can start with me, and work your way up."

He looked up at Bruce expectantly.

"Thank you," said Bruce, in an abashed voice. "I know I haven't been the best at—"

"You're welcome, dear boy," said Alfred, his wrinkled face illuminated with a smile. "You're always going to be welcome."

Bruce leaned forward and hugged Alfred. Alfred's lean body returned the hug with a fierceness that Bruce had not expected from the seventy-year-old man.

"Now," said Alfred, after they both had cleared their throats and looked away in embarrassment. "The winners of the contest are to be given their prize by you. So I suppose there will be multiple reasons for people to be happy you have awoken."

"Who has won?" Bruce asked, thinking about the people who visited him in his coma: strong firm hands that held his and did not let go, a woman's subtle perfume that enveloped him with one kiss, and a small boy's warm tears that fell on his father's face.

"Hal Jordan," announced Alfred, checking the scorecard.

Bruce groaned. "Not that man."

"I'm afraid so. The judges were unanimous, after tasting his soufflé. I suspect he used extra-terrestrial ingredients, but although that went against the spirit of the competition, it did not go against the letter of it." Alfred smoothed down the sheets. "I must inform you, Master Harold has been instrumental in keeping Master Damian's hopes up, in regards to your recovery. 'Your father is one tough bastard to beat', I believe were his words."

Bruce stood up. "Well, I suppose I can give Hal Jordan his stupid prize." He corrected his sleeves, brushing lint off them. There was something stupid in his heart. He suspected it to be fondness. When had so many good people started caring for him? And why would they care for a fuck-up?

As usual, Alfred read him to a tee. "Let us put our self-doubt to rest, Master Bruce. Go upstairs and be a bloody good host."

Bruce sighed, although his heart was almost content, for once. "Yes, Alfred."

[have-you-seen-my-sanity]

If reader were to be a famous person what would each Oscar Isaac character be like/act like if they knew them and what would they do? Your choice of characters of course ❤️

-anon

This is gonna be wild👀

OI characters with famous reader

Featuring: The moon boys, Poe Dameron, Nathan Bateman, Santiago Garcia, Miguel O'Hara, Blue Jones, Basil Stitt, William Tell.

A/n: I did Basil and Steven a bit dirty. Nsfw is only for those two.

Poe Dameron: He is probably going to be a fan of you. Goes to every planet you may have fan meetings and would ask for a picture of you.

Most likely develops a crush on you. Blushes deeply whenever you two have eye contact.

Would send BB-8 to you while watching from a far. If BB-8 brings you joy, Poe's butterflies in his stomach go wild and he feels like he's about to pass out.

Would definitely buy VIP if you offer it.

William Tell: He has his bit fame too, and therefore would apply to become your manager or personal asisstant.

During fan meetings, William has the idea of setting up a Poker table, where fans could go against him. If they win, they could get a free picture with you.

But William is hard to beat, maybe don't expect many people to actually win against him.

Santiago Garcia: Would probably like to be your bodyguard. He definitely has the experience and would exceed at it.

Would always make sure the area is safe and if you have VIP, he would actually check the bags of anyone wanting to meet you.

Most likely gets Benny, William and Frankie as bodyguards for you too. No need for basic bodyguards when you have ex militaries.

Nathan Bateman: Definitely knows about you. Would perhaps apply to be your tech guy, keeping all your devices safe and hack free.

Even likes to design and install his own security system that once triggered, he himself would appear, maybe bring along some of his androids to protect you.

Miguel O'Hara: Miguel pretty much likes you and could apply to be your personal asisstant or PR manager.

Also wouldn't shy away from bodyguard duty. And since he's having spidey senses, people could actually come to meet him too, thus will lead you to get more famous because people know you have Miguel O'Hara.

Blue Jones: Blue sees you as an opportunity for himself to get more famous.

Wants to send you an invite to come to Lennox, and do a fan meeting in his club.

Not that he doesn't like you, but Blue likes fame so he could definitely get used by having you pay a visit. Plus it may lead to more girls wanting to join him...

Basil Stitt: He knew you before his incident, he had a bit of a crush on you. But now with his scarred cheek and embarrassment of it, Basil feelings towards you grew.

It pisses him off knowing he can't meet you in person again, he isn't good at accepting rejection and thinks you will find him ugly.

Basil would continue watching every video of you he can, eating takeout pizza and jerking off after. He wishes he could see you in person again...

Jake Lockley: Jake would definitely apply to be your personal driver. He likes you and a fat paycheck here and there definitely won't hurt.

Though he wouldn't shy away of protecting you, always having his trusty gun with him.

Jake would actually offer taking pictures with him too. Your fans should know who drives the famous you around.

Marc Spector: Definitely has the skills and experience of being your bodyguard. Would walk beside you with his sunglasses and chewing on gum.

Would want nothing more than to keep you safe. Marc can definitely deal with rude fans.

Also would agree to take pictures with your fans if they wanted. Some fame or even money could never hurt him.

Steven Grant: Oh dear... Steven would be... the obsessive fan...

Always goes to your fan meetings, probably has a big crush on you. Would keep any magazine cover and pictures of you stashed in a box.

Steven would also send you fan mail. But he is smart enough to not send... substances...

He isn't that stupid like most obsessive fans would be therefore keeps jerking off in private rather than sending it to you.

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

Tags:

@nekoyin @steven-grants-world @iolaussharpe-24 @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @buckyssugarchick

@krakenkitty @libblesdoodles @tanks606 @yeanika

@mochiitoby @xcherryxmilkx @mooksmouse @autismsupermusicalassassin @silvernight-m

[emotionally-cuckolded]

"It seems he really needs me to be with him -- and needs to have a lot of sex with me -- to help him through this lonely holiday period, hun. Which does make sense, don't you think? And after all the rejection he felt when his wife left him, I have promised him that he won't have to use protection and that this will be my fertile time. It really would be a huge boost to his self-esteem and feelings of masculinity if he were to get me pregnant -- so I've also promised him that even if I'm not pregnant after the holidays that I'll make you use protection after that but will keep having unprotected sex with him -- at least until he's successful at impregnating me. You do understand, don't you hun?"

The idea of having to go through the holiday period alone, while your wife is with your best friend, having lots of sex and actively trying to get pregnant with him, doesn't thrill you, but it would seem mean and thoughtless to object, so begrudgingly you agree that she is doing the best, and kindest, and sweetest, thing by spending the next two weeks with him.

"Just give me a few minutes to pack what I need, and then you can drive me over to his place" your wife then said. It was then that you realized that because she would be with him on Xmas, you would have to give her your present now. It would not be a surprise -- because every year you gave her the same thing -- some very sexy lingerie, which she would wear for you on Xmas night. But this year was going to be different, and you started to think that maybe you should hold off on giving her the gift until after she came back home a few days after New Years. As you were thinking that, your wife emerged from the bedroom, saw you with the gift in your hand, and laughingly said:

"Oh sweetie. I suddenly realized you would have to give me your gift now -- and you realized the same thing!". With a smile you handed it to her and she quickly unwrapped it, then held up the sexy red bra and panty set you had purchased for her. "Oh WOW" she said. "It is SO SEXY. He's going to LOVE IT when I wear it for him on Christmas night. And in fact, I think I'll tell him that you bought it as a gift for both me and for him! I think he'll like the idea that you wanted to do whatever you could to help me be as sexy as possible for him."

Your wife then smiled at you, and said: "Sweetie -- uh -- this is a little awkward, but anyway -- While I'm with him for the next two weeks or so, I'm sure he will want to take me out on some really nice dates, but the thing is, I know that because of the cost of his divorce he is pretty much broke right now -- so -- I was thinking that it would be really nice of you if, when you drop me off there today, you could kind of quietly (so as not to make him feel embarrassed) hand him one of your credit cards to use when he takes me out. OK? You will! Wonderful. You really are being so understanding about this."

She then continued: "And yes, of course sweetie, you also realize that for the big New Years Eve party that our friends always have, that he and I will go to that as a couple, so you probably shouldn't show up this year. I wouldn't want him to think that I wouldn't want our friends to see me with him or even for him to think that I would rather go to the party with you than with him. That might hurt his feelings, so the plan is for me to be there with him and to be affectionate with him in front of all our friends. That should really make him feel good about himself I think."

And with that, you took your wife's suitcase to the car and drove her to your best friend's house. When you arrived you walked up to the door with your wife -- carrying her suitcase, and when your friend opened the door, you simply handed him the suitcase, wished him happy holidays, and then stepped back as your wife walked in and received a hug and kiss from your friend, who then, with his arm around your wife's shoulders, waved goodbye to you and shut the door -- leaving you to return home alone while you knew they were headed to the bedroom.

[sulumuns-dootah]

21. 12. Beleth - Firewood

      ༺☆༻

⟡ Masterlist ⟡ 

⋆꙳·❅‧The Yule festival of Hell 2‧❆ ₊⋆

A/N: The longest paragraph in this one is about Beleth's ass... Merry Christmas, you're welcome :D

      ༺☆༻

The cabin in mountains was perfect. A perfect place for your getaway with Beleth and Belphegor, who you're not even sure, knew about the whole thing.

“So, we've got everything we need...” Beleth comes into the main - and only room of downstairs after dropping the king off into the bed in one of the bedrooms upstairs.

“Uh... I don't think there might be enough firewood to last us even the night. “ you anxiously look at the rather small pile of wood by the grand fireplace. For some reason, despite knowing that there's no way you'll freeze to death, you still felt uneasy.

“Huh..? Wait, lemme start the fire and I'll tell ya.” the fallen angel looks in the same direction as you. After a short pause he kisses your cheek and strides towards the pitch black hole in the wall, getting down on his knees.

To put your mind at ease, you turn around to inspect the contents of the fridge, which should be full of food as the brochure advertised. And it really is. Somehow, it's even filled with all the snacks and drinks you like.

Behind you, you can hear the floor creak as well as a few grunts from Beleth. You look back at him a few times and no wonder he's grunting so much. Those tight pants have to be uncomfortably cutting into his muscles. Or so you guess from how skin tight they are in the position he's in. Too bad you have your phone in your bag upstairs currently, because the sight in front of you could rival even Sitri's and Zagan's ass.

“Yeah...you're right. Won't even last until sunset.” Beleth suddenly gets up and turns around to look at you like he can exactly read your mind.

“I uh... The owner said something about logs outside..?” you try to act natural, but your pink cheeks betray you.

“Hm? Guess you better go chop some then!” the fallen angel looks at you deadly serious.

You whole body freezes and you can't help but look at the tall demon like a deer in a headlights. He wants you??? to chop??? the wood? When you can't even measure up to his strength???

Beleth holds your eye contact for a few seconds and then his head falls back as he starts laughing, “Aw, didya really thought I'd have ya do that, toots?”

“Beleth!” you angrily whine and hit the demon on one of his pecs when he continues to laugh at your embarrassment for a bit too long.

“Real sorry, sugar.” still laughing, he winks at you and lightly slaps your ass before shedding his blazer and leaving the cabin to prepare some more firewood.

Still angry at him, you walk to the window so you can glare at him as he's working, but your glare completely disappears from your face once you see how tightly his shirt hugs his muscles as he swings the heavy axe around.

      ༺☆༻

But wait, this demon also has a gift for you!

"I keep wonderin' how'd ya look like with a halo, angel. Good thing I happen to have one on hand right here!"

[factual-fantasy]

27 asks! Thanks everyone!! :}} 🍭

@p0wer-up21

Thank you so much! And actually, I can! :D While I was watching episode 4 I saw Gummigoo with his brothers and felt kind'a bad for my Gummigoo.. having to leave them behind like that.. And you know me and brothers. I cant separate them permanently like that XDD

So I changed up my AU! In episode 2 instead of just Pomni and Gummigoo clipping through the floor while Max, Chad and the Rig blast into the sky... I decided that the whole Rig and all 4 of them all clipped through the map together.

The 3 of them have their existential moments and find the strength to move on thanks to Pomni. She brings them back to he circus and convinces Caine to let them stay. Since then the 4 of them have been a tight knit friend group, and they basically follow each other everywhere. Although it sucks that Max and Chad have to bare the horrible weight of sentience and emotions... at least they all have each other :))

As I expected, after seeing more of her good side I like her a lot more XDD I knew she just needed some more screen time. I like her relationship with Gangle and how genuine she is about wanting her around. Zooble went from a D to a solid B :))

Thank you very much for this sweet message 💞💞 I thank and wish the same for you! :}}

Actually, I'll go further! I hope something makes you laugh so hard that any time you think about it over the next week you laugh about it all over again! :))

:DD Well thank you so much for complimenting me and it! :}}]

Oh absolutely! My Caine consults the suggestion box almost exclusively when planning his adventures :D

I don't think I would have the stupid sauce in my AU. Or at least it wouldn't actually have any effect on anyone. Since none of the cast are supposed to eat the food, there's no reason why the stupid sauce should have any taste or effect on anyone. <:/

I imagine Caine would make multiple copies of the same restaurant and split the circus into smaller teams. Maybe he could even have them compete with each other :00

Instead of being a rather empty feeling episode..? With hardly any customers, its a episode with a fast paced work environment and some rude customers sprinkled in there.

Caines intention was to help the cast with their teamwork, problem solving and facing/managing negative emotions.

In the end everyone felt like how you usually feel after a draining 8 hour shift at a crummy McDonalds. <XD But ultimately it was an exercise that had more benefits then consequences on their sanity.

I do not :( Sorry!

I DO have a fanfic blog here on tumblr, but I got so embarrassed by my armature writing that I private the few fics I made 💀

@misscherrypie

It looks delicious!.. Man, now I gotta go make a sandwich XDD

@artistiemi

Aww! Thank you! And that drawing is absolutely FANTASTIC! :DD So soft and adorable.. well done! :))

@holly-opal

NGL, I was rather underwhelmed. I was expecting this frantic episode where the cast tried to learn teamwork and maybe as they failed to server orders fast enough the horror would ramp up and what not..

But what I got was an episode that felt very very empty. And an arc for Gangle that I didn't understand..

I read the comments and everyone was gushing about how wonderful and meaningful this episode was. So I have no doubt that it was a good episode. It just wasn't what I expected and I didn't understand the actually message it was trying to convey with Gangle. Which isn't at all the episodes fault. :0

XDD Indeed he is! It was the only male Sylveon adjacent name I could think of 😔

@taco-hyeh (Creature is from this post)

:DD Thank you so much! And oh yeah! I remember that guy. :0 Some kind of monstrous swamp creature I thought up. His first doodle was a spooky one but I couldn't help myself and made him silly the next time around XDD

@caronaro-flipaclip (In response to this post)

Thank you so much!! :DD Also I hadn't realized it until now, but NGL Jax has been shown a lot of mercy in my AU 💀

Caine has properly disciplined him over the years and hasn't let him get away with any of the crap he's pulled. Over time this has had good effects on Jax's personality and behavior. Realizing that "hey things are better and people are nicer to me when I'm not such a jerk."

Also because Jax is more genuine and isn't a jerk all the time, he has formed a genuine friend group within the circus. With people who genuinely care about Jax and share his sense of humor. These people being Kaufmo, Maufko, Sneemo and Doug primarily.

Not only do these 4 genuinely enjoy hanging around with Jax, but they often side with him and come to his defense when they know he isn't in the wrong. Having people on his side and feeling he has real friendships with these people has done so much to improve his mental health and behavior.

So yeah. Ngl Jax has been shown a boatload of mercy 💀but in my defense its because he's a decently better person in my AU so he doesn't deserve all the hate. Also he's not exempt from any angst. He's still existential about being in the circus which still makes him act out sometimes. :// Hence him crabbing at Queenie for something stupid and getting rightfully pretzeled over it XDD

(Link in ask)

:DD I'm happy to hear that! :))

Oh don't worry, I still love the FNAF and Octonauts and will draw them in private if I ever want to. I just wont post Octonauts anymore and will be hesitant to post FNAF again <:)

Also thank you! I wish the same for you! :DD

Google translation of ask: "Can you translate the comics yourself? I know that fan-translations are stolen from you, I just want to enjoy the comics you make without them being stolen!"

My Google translated response: Lo siento, pero mi blog es sólo un blog de hobby. No tengo ningún deseo de traducir mis cómics a otros idiomas y no quiero que nadie lo haga por mí. Lo siento mucho.

My English response: I'm sorry, but my blog is just a hobby blog. I have no desire to translate my comics into other languages and I don't want anyone to do that for me. I'm very sorry. <:(

Canonically? I don't really care for their personalities much.. but design wise I've always kind'a liked Iggy. Not his slender stature though, I like the Koopas to be short and stout-- Its his lime green and purple shell with the crazy eyes and his association with chain chomps that has always appealed to me.

@beryl-shade

XD oh boy do I know about Pingu. His face is all over the internet! And one of my fav brain rot songs is CG5s song about him XDD

As for how my OCs would interact with him, I'm not sure <:0 there's just too many OCs to choose from!

@v0idish-t3ars

Yeah, all that stealing has been such a downer. I'm glad you like my artwork though <:) I plan to try to just keep on keeping on. 👍

Oh dear :(

To anyone who thinks this; if an artist states they do not want their art reposted? There is absolutely no loop hole or way around it. If you repost it, you are a thief. No matter what. period.

@wolfie-777

Ough... a warm, carbonated, sugary drink. That just sounds like a potion for a stomach ache 😭💀

@howeaboutsomeketchul

Hopefully that doesn't cause you any pain! <XDDD

@teemhaunts (In response to this post)

Great choices! :DD My favorite creature is probably Shararook. But this is only based on appearance. When it comes to playing I really enjoy fast creatures with great mobility. Shararook cant run, jump, swim, glide, fly or even climb! He's just a slow tank that lumbers around... he looks super cool but MAN he's a drag to play as.

So amongst my other favorites based on appearance, my absolute favorite to play as would be Momola. Its so fun to absolutely BLAST around the map collecting things and exploring XDDD All the while my wings don't fold so I can always see how pretty they are! :DD

(In response to this post)

Indeed I do! :DD I played it a whole bunch during my hiatus and still play it everyday. Speaking of which, the winter event started recently and I had a goal to try and buy one of everything in the event shop. After seeing the prices? W o o f. There's no way I can earn all that in time so settled with just buying out half the shop 😅

That was a very poor start to this ask 😅 I nearly blocked you on sight thinking you were yet another anon coming to disrespect my boundaries. Thank goodness I read through the whole thing-

And while I cant say I've had any luck drawing things in private, I can confidently say that I'll just be drawing whatever I want.

And I'm sorry to hear that you are also unwell :( I hope that the both of us find some relief soon.. and I hope that my art can continue to brighten your day in the meantime! <:)) Thank you!! :))

[snexy-the-snail]

You think you can write a short of Apollo nomming on Percy sometime after the biting incident? I’d really like to see that they’re on good terms and Percy deserves as many comfort spaces as he can get

Love the au you’ve built up, I might take some inspiration for my own writing. Thank you so much!🤗

OO please do take inspiration!! I am living on pure spite atm and would live to revive PJO vore!!! and Of course-)) 

It had been weeks after the biting incident, and even more since A schedule of being eaten or sat with had been put in place. As much as it was embarrassing the sleep was too good to be truly upset. It was still gross, and half the time he felt like kicking Hermes teeth when he made a weird joke or teased him, but things weren't horrible.  

Percy grimaces and stretches, trying to soothe the aches that came with practicing with the newcomers. Some of those wooden swords hurt, and the metal ones even more, thank you. He sighs glancing towards the beach wondering if that would take some of the odd aches away, it usually did, sometimes. Water healing got weird when it came to bodies, sicknesses and colds? Nothing. Cuts? Perfect, which seemed mildly unfair. He groans and leans again on a tree closing his eyes to soak up the warmth of the day. Maybe he should just go kill some monster, blow off some steam and get the adrenaline pumping.  

Perfect day for it after all, it was bright, sunny, and-  

He narrows his eyes cautiously glancing around the wood.  

"I know you're there." He calls out, scowling when nothing happens. So, he brought out Riptide. It had to be Apollo; the warmth was undeniable. He could've stabbed a tree in frustration when he didn't get a response.  

"What do you want to hear that I won't bite you again?" He snaps eyeing the trees like Apollo would morph out of one. That apparently was the issue considering the God appeared, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "Serious? You were afraid I'd bite?" he asks with a scowl. Then again Triton had fully held him away like someone would with a naughty cat. Or a lizard- well Annabeth and a lizard at least.  

"Not afraid! Just- well biting usually means big ole' seaweed beard shows up and last time he was not happy about the whole, trying to get you to take a nap thing."  

Percy scoffs and caps his sword, pocketing it. "Well, you deserved it, I said no." He points out crossing his arms. At least Apollo had the decency to look somewhat ashamed.  

"I thought you were...ya know cranky?" The god says with a shrug, Percy very much scowling at the comment. Maybe he had been, but the fact Apollo was calling him out to that wasn't thrilling. "Or at least, Hermes says you're all squirmy and rude at first, so I thought it was just part of the process." Apollo continues not looking Percy in the eye.  

Of course. Percy let an exhausted sigh out a hand running through his hair. 12-year-old him would've flipped if this is what the future looked like. "I've seen you like, 5 times, and we don't have that whole directly related thing going on." He starts off. Sure, he had seen his dad about the same, but the sea god was *his* dad. Apollo might be his cousin or something, but he didn't *know* him like he did Hermes.  

"I've seen Hermes more than my own dad, talked with him too, so he's familiar I guess...I just... You're not."  

That didn't sound too brutal, did it? Oh. Apollo's gaze was hard, serious. It was weird considering he had only seen the god acting goofy half the time. He looked...godly almost. The silence was awkward, and Percy hated it, about to open his mouth to fill the silence but Apollo beat him to it.  

"I'd never hurt you. You know that right?"  

"What?"  

"I said I'd never hurt you. You're the reason half my kids are alive. They pray to me about you, about what you've done for them." Apollo continues with a bittersweet smile on his face. "And it kills me that you're not taking care of yourself. Hero of Olympus, title bearers of heroes of old, it doesn't matter. You're still just a kid under that."  

Percy swallows thickly not moving an inch as the god approached him, much like a stray horse, a warm hand settling on his shoulder. It was a different warmth than his dad's or Triton's. It was pure soul bringing warmth opposed to the gentle cooling his sea families brought.  

"Just a kid huh?" He laughs bitterly, closing his eyes, soaking in the soothing warmth. It washed over his soreness much like the waves did. The air feeling crisp in his lungs as he drew a breath. "Where was that thinking when I was 12."  

The silence that settled over them wasn't comfortable, though Apollo had a sorrowful expression on his face. "Gods don't change, not truly. But you, Percy Jackson, have certainly demanded we try."  

It was an honesty he swore he couldn't get from his father half the time...then again truth fell within Apollos domain. He wasn't sure why the sudden honesty, well partly. He crosses his arms and steps away from the warm weight on his shoulder. "Someone's gotta try for a better future." He grumbles.  

And it was getting better. From what he heard God spent more time with their kids than just eating them. He knew for sure Poseidon was, Nico literally had a room and Apollo dropped by fairly often to see his kids now. Especially Will.  

Apollo chuckles ruffling his hair with a grin. "You're a good kid, and I know Uncle P is proud of you." The god continues a fond look twinkling in his eyes.  

"Yeah, mmhm." He laughs barely trying to tame the wild mess that Apollo had created. He knew exactly what the God was seeking now but...funnily enough it was better, like a slow drawn-out permission. Comforting, like Hermes would do it. A small chat before getting to business.  

He was...feeling a bit drawn out and exhausted. The training took more out of him than he had been expecting. He sighs heavily leaning against a tree looking back to Apollo. The god stood there silently, his gaze watching him intently. Taking in each movement and any expression he made. Clearly waiting to see his response.  

"It's better." He says suddenly, hiding a smile when the god jolted at his voice, like he wasn't expecting it. "What is?"  

"This." He says gesturing vaguely. "Small talk, no taunting. I don't like cat and mouse games."  

"I wasn't- " 

"You are. You guys stand weird when you're thinking about it." Percy points out raising a brow. It was a stance, a slightly arched one, tense like a predator stalking its prey though, it felt...oddly relaxing.  

Apollo seemed stunned, before a rolling laugh poured from him. His eyes twinkle, his lips quirking upwards. "People should give you more credit. You're a rather observant little whirlpool."  

A scoff draws from him, rolling his eyes as he looked the god over. "It's more common sense. Any god I've seen always does that before they snag someone."  

He wasn't being snagged per say, Apollo was working up to it which he'd gladly take. Gave him more time to calm his nerves. "Anyway, get it over with, I've got another lesson in like two hours." he says with a dramatic sigh.  

There was a pause before Apollo approached him cautiously, getting more confident when no teeth sunk into his arm this time. "I'm not gonna bite this time." Percy complains, half tempted to give a small shove.  

"Well forgive me for being cautious, I can't tell if you're just sassy or genuinely feral." The god shoots back before his hand settles on his shoulder, giving it a warm squeeze. Rather than his vision blurring and warm divine energy sinking into him, Apollos form twisted and grew right in front of him, his hand steadily covering his entire body.  

He hums, going limp once massive fingers curl over his body lifting him up in a loose fist. It was a lot warmer than he was expecting. The ocean felt cool, soothing like aloe over a sunburn, Hermes felt breezy almost, a rush under his skin. Apollo was warm. Like incredibly warm. It was..comfortable actually.  

"Still with me Perc?"  

He hadn't even realized he had closed his eyes until the god spoke, jolting out of his thought. "Mm? Yeah. You're just warm." He mumbles. He stifles a yawn, scowling instead. He grumbles under his breath when it's met with a soft chuckle.  

"I can still bite you." He warns, huffing as he'd brought up to the gods face, a cheeky smile spread across the lips. "So can I Mr. Piranha." Apollo teases, clacking his teeth together.  

If it had been 3 months ago the tease probably would've terrified him, but Percy was more than used to the jabs by now. He rolls his eyes instead, half heartily kicking the gods cheek, sticking his tongue out when Apollo took his foot between his lip. The god was having way too much fun with this.  

"Oh no I'm so terrified. Spare me." The monotone voice only seemed to spur more amusement from the god, a chuckle rumbling from him before his lips parted. The slick feeling of saliva soaking into him as he was eased further inside. Huh. It was more goopy sorta thick... Like honey almost. He must've made a face because a vibration of laughter ran through him. "Yeah, laugh it up, you have gross insides."  

He scoffs trying to remain aloof as he slipped further inside the gods tongue safeguarding him from scraping against the bottom teeth. "You know one of these days you should be less gross and just magic me inside. Dad said you guys do that too." He points out closing his eyes as he let the warmth roll over him. It was comforting, soothing his aches and pains in ways water did.  

The motions were familiar, his feet hitting the back of the gods throat, he tenses briefly, surprised when nothing happened. He cracks his eyes open a bit, waiting for a swallow to ripple over his feet but he sorta just laid there. He craned his neck the best he could, but he couldn't exactly see what expression was on the god's face. Fingers brushed against his head, like he was seconds from being pulled back out.  

"Are you...waiting?" he asks slowly, a tad stunned. He hadn't expected that. All because he tensed a bit? Huh...that was oddly thoughtful. "I'm fine, it just gets weird with the sensation of falling." he admits after a second. A hum rolls over him before the familiar grasp of muscles tugs him downwards. The pressure and squeezing are almost comforting at this point. He sighs heavily closing his eyes again, not that it mattered considering the surrounding innards glowed.  

The rippling of the muscles pulling him down was a motion that he had actually gotten used to. Mindlessly he counted the seconds, keeping his breathing as even as possible as he was squeezed and squished. The tight feeling at his feet giving way with the slight pressure.  

Instead of a drop he was expecting it was more of a slide, the thick goopy insides making him scrunch his face up. "Ugh, why are you so goopy?" He grumbles. He shifted upwards, trying to push against the plush muscle, his hands sinking into it like putty. Different for sure.  

"I'm not goopy! Literally none of my kids have ever complained."  

"It's literally like putty in here!"  

He makes face pulling his hand back, the thick mucus clinging to his hand as he did. "Actually at least putty doesn't stick to you." He grumbles, flopping back against the stomach, wall, grimacing when he sunk into the plush muscle.  

"I'm sorry next time I'll tidy up, put some air fresheners inside, maybe add a rug." Apollo scoffed, Percy smirking when he felt a few very pointed pokes targeting his back.  

"I feel like a rug would make this ten times worse." Percy laughs, closing his eyes with a sigh. He had two hours before his next lesson...that gave him some time for a night. "Might turning out the light? Man, you're like the worst to nap with." he teases, stretching out a bit. It was like being on a weird waterbed. He could get used to water, but this was like an oddly firm Jello. 

A dramatic sigh caused the muscles to ripple all around him, the light fading from a bright light to a softer glow. "My kids never complain." the god grumbles, though the fond tone indicated he wasn't truly upset.  

"Your kids sometimes actually glow in the dark, so doesn't surprise me- now shut it." Percy murmurs, not real heat in his voice as he relaxes further into the organ. It really was like sunbathing, a constant warmth enveloping him no matter how he moved or turned. His lips quirk up, more so when a steady pressure rubs against his back.  

So, Apollo wasn't as bad as he first had thought that was good to know. He could live with this.  

"Wake me up in two hours, I'm serious I have classes to teach." He grumbles, not even fighting the wave of exhaustion.  

"Mmhm, we'll see if you're up for it then."  

Percy scowls, letting an annoyed huff out. Well, there went the rest of his day. 

[cxffecoupx]

dear santa

lee seokmin + jokingly going up to the santas at the mall and embarrassing the other one wc: 645 warnings: written in a rush to finish the series, seokmin being painfully embarassing author's notes: I'm so sorry I keep posting such mediocre stuff i really don't wish to😭😭 also this should preferably be read before chan's drabble 'wrapping errors'. but I hope you like it <3 winter wonderland masterlist

"i think the store over there has some good gifts," you point towards the store with one hand to seokmin around who you've wrapped your other hand.

seokmin's still in awe over all the christmas decorations done in the mall when you look at him. red sparkling decor hangs from the high roof, glistening when light hits it at particular angles; lights arranged in the figures of reindeers and pandas; arches made of green leaves, with stars dangling at points; santas standing at various places in the mall, talking and playing with the kids that have come to the shopping center.

christmas is in full swing here.

however, you're falling behind because the two of you have spent days procrastinating and postponing buying the gifts for people you're meeting on christmas. like every year, all of you are meeting at seungcheol's place for the big bash he throws regularly, and for you, staying away from your family, they have become a second family to you.

you head over to the shop and look around for a while, contemplating whether to buy the most beautiful things you see there, even though they're basically useless to anyone. you manage to purchase a few presents, and when you're leaving, you notice that seokmin is nowhere to be found.

hands full of bags and gifts, you exit the store, mind wandering just like your eyes trying to spot him in the crowd. couples and families thronged the place, kids walking around with balloons and candies possibly gifted by the santas.

how the hell were you gonna find him?

the thought didn't stay for long when you hear his voice from somewhere, "yn!!"

"minnie?" when you look over though, you instantly wish that you hadn't.

there he stood, a few feet away from you, wearing an exact same white beard like the santa standing near him. the prop looked odd with the rest of his clothes, and his pose suggested that he was clearly losing some marbles. even the santa nearby seemed to ignore the embarassing creature standing near him.

you'd always had the fantasy of him role-playing as santa during sex, especially around xmas, but if this is what it's gonna be, you'd rather take up chastity. seriously.

"yn! wait why are you walking away- YN, c'mere. this is so fun," seokmin calls out to you again, this time louder, and the people nearby follow his gaze to see a shy you, face the colour of a ripe tomato. you could only wish that the ground would swallow you up.

and if all this wasn't enough, your boyfriend decides to laugh in an obnoxious manner, a distinct 'ho ho ho' echoing through the mall even in the chatter of the crowd.

that's when the mall starts playing one of your favourite songs, a song he'd start singing whenever, wherever you were. when you turn around to look at him, you see him already watching you, eyes searching yours for the silent message that comes with the song.

Shall I stay?

Would it be a sin

If I can't help falling in love with you?

you walk over to him, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before taking his extended hand to pull him away from the crowd. you return the beard to the santa with an awkwardness you're sure he understands as well, and return to seokmin, who's now decided to entertain a few kids who'd thought he was santa indeed, and the sight melts away any urgency you'd felt. it replaces with a warm and cosy feeling that slowly settles in your tummy.

"the kids loved me; i make a pretty good santa, don't i?" he asks when he sees you near him.

"i don't know about santa, but you'd make a pretty good dad. now let's get home quick now, we have to wrap the gifts."

prompt by @novelbear; dividers by @adornedwithlight

[marcyvamp1re-blog]

ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁  ! ⺌ . ⸺  NPE! 

PART ONE! | Volume I

Synopsis; "So, you’re an alien, huh?" Yeah, sure, maybe you’re a little... different. But honestly, who isn’t? The earthlings think you’re weird? Nope. It’s just that they’re a bunch of clueless humans, totally missing the point. You, on the other hand, have a higher calling. A mission to discover the meaning of life—you know, the whole ‘why am I here, and what am I supposed to be doing’ thing. Simple, right?

Except, uh... there’s a small hiccup. You don’t even know what species you are, because someone forgot to leave the alien instruction manual. Oops. So, while you’re out there doing some random side gig (you know, the one that might help you find out more about your roots and, oh yeah, pay the rent), you accidentally get tangled up in the lives of two earthlings.

Of course, you swear to protect them because, well, you kind of owe them. Maybe. Or maybe not. Who’s to say? Either way, your purpose might get a little... distracted. But hey, priorities, right?

Pairing ── Dan Da Dan x Alien! Fem/Neutral? Reader.

Content. MDNI ── Manga Spoilers, Violence/Death, Blood, Invasion of Privacy, Invasion of Mind, Abduction, Kidnapping, Angst, Murder, Disturbing Content, Corruption, Isolation,Paranoia, Manipulation, Unintended Time Travel Mishaps, Alien Romance Tropes, Sudden Existential Crises, Unexplained Tentacle Appearances, Turbo Granny's Sass, Breaking the Fourth Wall, Gravity-Defying Physics, Psychic Overload, Ambiguous Yōkai Allegiances, Excessive Hair-Related Powers, Sudden Dance Battles in Crisis, Outdated Alien Fashion Choices, Malfunctioning Spacecraft Humor, Intense Staring Contests, Time-Dilated Cliffhangers, Overwhelming Amounts of Sparkles, Overwhelming Amounts of Sparkles, Polyamory, LGBTQ+ Content, ¿Gender-fluid or Non-binary Character? (Not with respect to pronouns, but to their genitals xd), Unconventional Relationship Dynamics, Consent Issues in Alien Interactions, Mind-altering Love Spells, Extreme Jealousy, Existential Dilemmas on Love and Identity, Mind-Controlling Aliens.

A/N ── English is not my first language—Spanish— Oh my god, how did this happen 😱 sorry to everyone (@flwes & @redberrysstuff) who saw the incomplete story, I feel SO embarrassed. Ugh, I swear, autocorrect and my clumsiness are going to kill me one of these days. :"(( But seriously, I promise the full version is coming, just give me a second to fix it.

"Idiot! Moron! Squid! Tuna!" Momo Ayase shouted from the ground, her face flushed with rage as she watched her now ex-boyfriend walk away with that annoying mix of guilt and annoyance in his eyes. "Never call me again!"

"Momo? Are you okay? Or should I sign up for the next round of sea insults?" asked a familiar voice behind her.

Momo turned around, still frowning, but the sight disarmed her a bit. There was Y/n Seigai, with that carefree energy that always seemed straight out of a movie. She wore a short plaid skirt and a white blouse that highlighted her figure, complemented by long socks and platform shoes with a puma print that screamed confidence. Her makeup was simple yet striking, enough to make anyone turn to look at her. And, as always, she had something in her hand: this time, a frozen yogurt popsicle that she licked absently as if nothing in the world could disturb her calm.

"Late again, huh?" Momo huffed, crossing her arms and standing up, her gaze as severe as a frustrated mother.

"What? Was that a 'thank you for coming to the rescue, Y/n'? Because if so, your tone needs a little work," Y/n replied with a cheeky smile, making an exaggerated gesture to offer her a lick of her popsicle. "Want some? Frozen yogurt cures broken hearts. It's science."

"I don't want your stupid popsicle, idiot! And stop changing the subject! You're late to school again! Do you know how many times I've been asked why you can't arrive on time? I feel like your babysitter!"

Y/n theatrically sighed, placing a hand on her chest as if Momo had wounded her pride. "Oh, Momo. Always so responsible, so punctual... except when you decide to sleep in on Mondays. Remember last Monday? Because I do; you were running out with a toast in your mouth."

Momo opened her mouth to retort but quickly shut it, blushing a little. "That was different! And don’t change the subject!"

"Okay, okay, sorry, mom," Y/n said with a mischievous smile, raising her hands in a sign of surrender. "But in my defense, it's not my fault that the coffee at that corner is so good it makes me lose track of time."

"You have a watch on your wrist, Y/n! And a phone with alarms! ALARMS!"

"Well, my alarms and I have a complicated relationship..." Y/n murmured as she took another lick of the popsicle.

Momo couldn't help but let out an exasperated sigh, although her lips curled slightly into a smile. That was the dynamic with Y/n: serious and responsible when necessary but with enough chaotic moments to drive her crazy. And even though sometimes she wanted to give her a good lecture, she couldn't deny that Y/n always knew how to lift her spirits, even on days like today.

"Come on, Momo. Let's get to class. I promise we'll make it before the bell rings... probably," Y/n said, offering her the popsicle as a peace gesture.

"Probably isn’t good enough! And I don’t want your silly popsicle," Momo shot back, but she couldn’t help but chuckle a bit as they started walking together.

As they crossed the school gates, Momo and Y/n couldn’t help but draw attention. They were, without a doubt, a striking pair: Momo, with her natural charisma and perfectly polished gyaru style, walked with purpose while continuing to rant about her now ex-boyfriend; Y/n, on the other hand, exuded a magnetic nonchalance, her skirt swaying with each step and a yogurt popsicle still in her hand, as if school were just another runway in her day.

"And then he has the nerve to say I’m playing hard to get! Can you believe it?" Momo gestured dramatically, as if still arguing with her ex.

"Mm-hmm," Y/n murmured, not stopping her slow lick of the popsicle. "Sounds like someone needs a 'How Not to Be an Idiot' manual. Should I mail him one?"

"Not even that! He’d probably lose it, like he loses all common sense," Momo shot back, rolling her eyes.

As they made their way down the hallway, students stepped aside to let them pass—some admiring their style, others whispering comments among themselves. Momo was so engrossed in her complaints she barely noticed the stares. Y/n, however, threw the occasional wink or offered a carefree smile, as if she were used to being the center of attention.

"Can you stop flirting with the entire hallway? I’m having a crisis here!" Momo snapped, giving her a light nudge.

"Flirting? I’m just being friendly. But if you want all my attention, Momo, you only have to ask," Y/n replied with a mischievous grin.

"God, you’re unbearable!"

Finally, they reached their classroom, where their other two friends, Miko and Muko, were waiting.

Miko was seated by the window, her small bow perfectly in place and her uniform impeccable, though always with her personal touch. Her beige sweater and loosely tied ribbon gave her a relaxed vibe, but her bright smile showed she was ready for a day full of energy.

Muko, in contrast, was impossible to ignore. Her tan skin stood out against her blonde hair styled into pigtails, and the manba makeup she wore proudly added a bold edge to her look. Her uniform followed the same pattern as the other girls', but on her, everything seemed a bit more daring—from the slightly oversized sweater to the way her loose socks fell perfectly over her sandals.

"Wow! Took you long enough," Miko said with a smile as she saw them walk in. "I thought you’d actually be on time today."

"Tell that to Miss 'Coffee is More Important Than Punctuality,'" Momo replied, giving Y/n an accusatory look.

"Me? I arrived just in time to make this spectacular entrance," Y/n said, spinning dramatically before flopping into her seat.

"Jealous, Miko?" Muko chimed in as she adjusted one of her pigtails. "They walk in, and the whole hallway stares. People only look at us when Miko shouts something ridiculous."

"Hey! That was one time," Miko retorted, crossing her arms with feigned indignation.

Momo let out a sigh, but a smile began to form on her lips. Being with them was always like this: chaotic, fun, and somehow reassuring.

"Alright, girls, now that we’re all here, I need advice. How do you get over an idiot who just wants you to pay for everything and only cares about sleeping with you?"

"Easy," Y/n said, raising her popsicle as if it were a trophy. "You get over him by being yourself: brighter, more fabulous, and completely out of his league. Like always, Momo."

"Amen," added Muko, lifting her phone for a quick selfie with Miko, who automatically struck a pose.

Momo rolled her eyes but couldn’t help laughing. Yes, her group was a mess in its own way, but she wouldn’t trade it for anything.

"Okay, seriously, what happened? Why are you so upset? We know it’s not because of Y/n, because when you’re mad at her, you yell louder than a megaphone," Miko said, raising an eyebrow with that teasing attitude she always had when she wanted to get under Momo’s skin.

Momo let out a heavy sigh and flopped onto the desk. "Nothing... that idiot dumped me, and then I started insulting him... using fish names."

Y/n, who was lounging back in her chair with her feet on the desk as if she were at home, couldn’t hold back a laugh. "Fish names. Like ‘Tuna’ and ‘Squid’. Because I’m sure that hurt his feelings a lot. Wow, Momo, terrifying. Do you really think that’s going to change his mind?"

"Ha, I’m dying," Muko said, testing a bit of her makeup while laughing. "Fish names aren’t insults, Momo. What were you expecting, ‘Shark’ or ‘Piranha’? Now those might be scary!"

Momo frowned, looking at her friends as if they were aliens. "You’re supposed to comfort me! He was my first boyfriend! My first, girls!" Momo waved her hands dramatically, as if she had lost something truly valuable.

Muko looked at her with a mix of sympathy and exasperation. "We told you to forget about him, Momo. It was obvious he wasn’t worth it."

Y/n nodded with mock seriousness, though her eyes still sparkled with amusement. "Yeah, can you remind me what was supposed to be so great about him? Was it the guy who always wore shirts two sizes too small? Or was it his talent for making you feel bad every time you talked about your dreams?"

"It’s just... he looked like Ken Takakura," Momo replied, as if it were an irrefutable justification, throwing her hands up as if there were nothing more to say.

The three friends sighed in unison, a sound so synchronized it could have been rehearsed.

"There she goes again..." Muko muttered, shaking her head and placing a hand on her forehead in a dramatic pose.

"Ugh, here we go," Miko said, glancing at Y/n and raising an eyebrow. "The story of the guy who ‘looked like’ Ken Takakura. Momo, are you sure you don’t have a poster of him at home?"

"She doesn’t just have a poster, let me tell you," Y/n said, remembering the time she stayed over at Momo’s house while her grandmother was away for a few days.

Y/n, who had just finished her popsicle and was now grinning mockingly at the others, tossed the stick out the window with perfect precision. "Here we go with your nonsense again, Momo. First it was ‘Ken Takakura,’ then it’ll be ‘Tom Cruise,’ and next you’ll tell me you fell for some guy who looks like an anime character. Stop idealizing guys, seriously."

Momo shot her a glare. "It’s not the same, Y/n! Ken Takakura is an icon, a real man!"

"Yeah, a movie man probably under contract with boredom, because guys like him don’t exist in real life," Y/n said, striking a dramatic pose as she crossed her arms.

Momo shrugged. "I don’t know what it is about him… but there’s something, I swear."

"What he has is that he’s in movies, not real life," Miko replied with a somewhat philosophical tone, as if she’d just imparted a profound truth about reality.

"So what, huh!? I like tough guys, like Ken Takakura!" Momo shouted, raising her hand as if she’d just made a worldwide announcement about her love for cinematic men.

Miko and Muko exchanged glances and, with almost perfect synchronization, replied, "Momo, we’ve got a surprise for you… those men are extinct."

Momo immediately dropped her head, as if someone had dumped a bucket of cold water on her. Her shoulders slumped, and her smile vanished in an instant. "What? Extinct? That can’t be true!" she muttered, as if she’d just taken a direct hit to the heart.

"Sorry, Momo," Miko said with a mischievous smile. "Men like that don’t exist anymore. All we’ve got now are guys in sweatpants with cat wallpapers on their phones."

Momo let out a deep sigh, an exaggerated expression of sorrow crossing her face. "So what?! What am I supposed to do with my life? Settle for guys who don’t even know what a good hairstyle is?!"

With the theatrics worthy of a telenovela star, Momo stood from her seat, leaving the others watching as she exited the classroom as if she’d just lost the most important battle of her life.

"Did what we said hurt her feelings?" Miko asked, a faint smile on her face, though she already knew the answer.

"No," Y/n replied, standing up without looking back, her eyes sparkling with a mix of amusement and concern. "It hurt because it’s true."

Momo, on the verge of stepping into the hallway, didn’t notice Y/n following her. As Y/n caught up, she saw Momo walking with slumped shoulders, as if she were on a farewell mission for her love life.

Y/n walked up to her side and, with a playful smile, nudged her shoulder lightly. "Come on, Momo, don’t be like that. There are still guys out there who aren’t complete disasters."

Momo gave her a sad look. "I don’t know, Y/n. Maybe tough guys are just a fantasy. Like Ken Takakura. A legend of the past!"

"Well, if you ask me, the real tough guy is standing right here!" Y/n said, pointing a thumb at herself with a cheeky grin. "Forgot about us? We’re the tough ones now."

Momo glanced at her sideways, a flicker of humor returning to her eyes. "The problem is I don’t have time for girls who make bad jokes."

Y/n followed her, chuckling softly. "I’m the best company you could ask for, and I’ll prove it!"

The two walked down the hallway, leaving the classroom behind, Momo still a little down but starting to relax, with Y/n beside her as always—joking, stylish, and promising that there was always something better than a movie fantasy.

"Let’s go, Momo," Y/n said with a sly smile. "Tough guys may not exist anymore, but we’re unstoppable!"

Momo couldn’t help but smile, even if just a little. Maybe it wasn’t all that bad after all.

As Momo and Y/n passed by the nearest classroom, they couldn’t help but notice a group of boys throwing paper balls at a smaller, scrawnier boy with a hairstyle clearly modeled after Nobita from Doraemon.

Momo frowned immediately, spotting the bullying behavior. Y/n tensed beside her. Both of them hated bullies, and they weren’t about to stand by and do nothing.

One of the boys, grinning stupidly, picked up a paper ball and said loudly, "Stick a magnet in it! That’s gotta hurt!"

As he prepared to throw it, now with a magnet inside, a shadow loomed over him. Turning around, he found Momo sitting in front of him, her expression unimpressed. Behind him, Y/n stood with her arms crossed, her gaze so intense it could’ve melted anything in its path.

"Hey," Momo asked, looking at the boy with a mix of curiosity and disapproval. "What are you reading?"

"Uh… this…" the boy stammered, glancing nervously between the bullies and the girls.

The boys throwing the paper balls didn’t seem to realize what was happening. They turned back to their antics, ignoring the two girls who weren’t about to stay quiet.

Momo quickly stood up, shooting the bullies one last look. "What a bunch of idiots," she said, rolling her eyes. "It’s like this world is full of losers."

Y/n sighed, observing the chaos with a smile that hid something deeper. She was about to leave with Momo until her eyes caught the title of the magazine the boy was reading.

"The Occult," she read aloud, raising an intrigued eyebrow and smiling faintly. "Interesting…" she murmured before stepping toward Momo, leaving the minor chaos of the classroom behind.

"Come on, Momo," Y/n teased as she walked alongside her. "You look like you just had to pay taxes or something. Relax."

"You’d feel the same way if you were surrounded by idiots!" Momo snapped, crossing her arms indignantly.

Suddenly, an unfamiliar voice thundered behind them:

"MOMO AYASE! Y/N SEIGAI!"

"Huh? Now what?" Momo said, turning around with a frown.

It was the nerd from earlier. He was running toward them with all his might, gasping for breath as if he’d just escaped a marathon. When he reached them, he stopped so abruptly he almost fell over.

"I KNOW WHAT YOU LIKE!" he shouted, hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath.

"What?" Y/n asked, visibly confused, glancing at Momo with a raised eyebrow.

"I KNOW WHAT YOU LIKE!" he repeated, louder this time, with an oddly intense conviction. "That’s the only reason someone like you would talk to someone like me!"

Momo blinked slowly and then let out an exaggerated sigh. "You’ve already said that. Can you switch up your dialogue? You sound like a broken record."

Y/n put a hand to her face, muttering, "Have you lost your mind? Where did you even get that crazy idea?"

The boy looked at them with desperate eyes, as if he was about to reveal some cosmic secret. "I’m talking about this!" he exclaimed, pulling something out as if presenting irrefutable proof.

Both girls tilted their heads simultaneously, trying to figure out what he was holding.

"Is that... a magazine?" Momo asked, squinting.

"Yes! A limited edition of The Occult! I know you’re into this because I saw how you looked at it earlier! President Obama has already been to Mars! This is the full story of the Pegasus Project! You’re into the paranormal!"

Momo closed her eyes and ran a hand over her forehead, clearly trying to summon some patience. "Look, genius, we’re not planning to be your best friends or start a paranormal book club with you. We don’t believe in UFOs or aliens."

"They’re not UFOs, they’re UAPs! Unidentified Aerial Phenomena!" the boy yelled enthusiastically, holding up the magazine like it was some sacred manifesto.

He began talking again, with a passion that seemed endless. Y/n listened with a half-smile, entertained by the chaos he brought with him. But soon, she felt Momo’s hand squeeze hers—a clear sign: Momo was about to lose her temper.

And then, she exploded.

"WOULD YOU JUST SHUT UP ALREADY?! MY HEART’S BEEN BROKEN, AND I’M NOT IN THE MOOD! AND YOU’RE SO ANNOYING WITH YOUR NERD STORIES THAT NOBODY CARES ABOUT, OKAY?! THAT’S WHY YOU HAVE NO FRIENDS!"

The boy froze, his mouth open and his eyes wide like saucers. Even Y/n, who was used to Momo’s outbursts, raised an eyebrow. "Ouch. Low blow," she murmured, mostly to herself.

Still fuming like a volcano, Momo pointed at the boy. "Don’t even think about talking to us again! Let’s go, Y/n!"

But Y/n didn’t move. She looked at the boy with some pity, her eyes softening. She stepped toward him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey... she didn’t mean it, okay? She’s upset because she had a bad day. Don’t take it to heart," she said calmly, trying to diffuse the situation.

Momo stopped and turned around, clearly picking up on Y/n’s accusatory tone even though she hadn’t said anything else. With an exasperated sigh, she rolled her eyes. "Fine, fine! I’m sorry, dude! I went too far. Happy now?"

She picked up the magazine that had fallen to the floor and handed it back to the boy, though her lips were still pursed. "But don’t get excited. I don’t believe in aliens. I’m more into ghosts and spirits, got it?"

Out of nowhere, the boy started laughing—not a polite chuckle, but a full-on belly laugh that echoed down the hallway.

"Don’t tell me you actually believe in spirits," he said, still laughing as he wiped a tear from the corner of his eye.

Momo froze, her frown deeper than ever. "Are you making fun of me?!" she shouted, stepping toward him with clenched fists.

Before anyone could react, the two launched into a heated argument. Momo insisted that spirits were real, while the boy passionately defended his UAPs. Y/n, stuck between them like a referee in a wrestling match, glanced toward the hallway. There stood Miko and Muko, watching the scene with amused smiles as they whispered to each other.

"These two are hopeless," Y/n muttered under her breath, feeling her patience wear thin.

Finally, she snapped.

"ENOUGH! YOU’RE DRIVING ME CRAZY!" she yelled, pushing them apart with a hand on each shoulder. Her voice was so loud that even Miko and Muko stopped laughing to peek in with curiosity.

"Here’s the deal," Y/n said, crossing her arms authoritatively. "If Momo proves that spirits exist, you’ll become her personal errand boy. But if you prove that UFOs—sorry, UAPs—are real, then she’ll be your errand girl."

Both of them stared at her in disbelief.

"WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?!" they shouted in unison, their faces a mix of shock and panic.

Y/n smirked, her tone daring as if she’d just announced the rules of a reality show. "It’s a bet. Take it or leave it."

Momo opened her mouth to protest but then glanced at the boy with a competitive glint in her eyes. "Errand boy, huh? That doesn’t sound too bad."

The boy blinked, clearly trying to process what had just happened. Finally, he raised his chin, determined. "Fine! But get ready to carry my stuff when I win."

Momo narrowed her eyes. "Me? Carry your stuff? Dream on, loser!"

From the hallway, Miko and Muko started laughing again.

"This is gonna be good," Miko said.

"I’m definitely not missing this," Muko added.

Y/n sighed, looking at the two challengers with exhaustion. "Great, now you’re both committed. But if you waste my time, I swear both of you will end up being my errand boys!"

They both nodded, though they still exchanged defiant glares. Y/n couldn’t help but smile. This was either going to be very interesting… or completely chaotic.

⊹ ・・───・・・・───・・ ⊹

"What is this place?! I’M GONNA DIE OF FEAR!" screamed Momo, clinging to you like a lifeline in the middle of the ocean. Her grip was so tight that you seriously considered whether you’d pass out from lack of air or from the creepy atmosphere of the hospital.

"Relax, Momo," you sighed, trying to wiggle free while scanning the surroundings. Nagi University Hospital didn’t disappoint: graffiti-covered walls, broken windows, dark hallways, and that classic feeling that something was watching you from the shadows. "Though… yeah, this place is pretty unsettling."

"UNSETTLING?! THIS IS STRAIGHT OUT OF A HORROR MOVIE!" Momo shrieked, practically climbing on top of you.

On the other end of the phone, the guy sounded thrilled. "Stop whining! Nagi Hospital is one of the prime spots for UFO sightings! They say if you’re on the rooftop, you get abducted!"

"What’s abduction?" Momo whispered in your ear.

"It’s when aliens kidnap you and experiment on your body," you whispered back.

"Hey, genius, why the rooftop?" you asked, frowning as you tried to keep Momo at a reasonable distance. "What does the rooftop have to do with UFOs?"

"Because UFOs can’t land in the basement, OBVIOUSLY!" he replied triumphantly, as if he’d just solved a universal mystery.

"Are you kidding me…? WHO IN THEIR RIGHT MIND BUILDS A HOSPITAL WHERE YOU GET ABDUCTED?!" shouted Momo, clearly on the verge of throwing the phone out the window.

"And who in their right mind goes willingly to an abandoned hospital for fun? Oh, wait... you two."

"THAT’S IT!" Momo yelled, red with indignation, and if you hadn’t stopped her, she probably would’ve smashed the phone against the nearest wall.

"Okay, okay, enough, both of you!" you interrupted, rubbing your temples. "Listen, Nobita of the UFO fandom, you focus on your tunnel and tell us if you see anything weird. We’ll try not to die or get abducted, deal?"

"Perfect! And record everything! This could change history!" he said excitedly, as if already drafting his speech for NASA.

"Sure, sure. If aliens take me, I’ll make sure to Facetime you," you muttered as Momo tugged at your arm.

"YOU GO FIRST! I’M NOT GOING ALONE!" Momo demanded, pointing at the dark hallway leading to the rusty elevator.

"Me first? I’d rather we just go home and call it a day. We’ve done enough for one evening."

Momo huffed but then crossed her arms and stared at the floor, thoughtful. "If we leave now, that idiot’s gonna laugh at us all week."

"What do you prefer? Him laughing at us, or us getting abducted? Because I know where my priorities lie, and aliens don’t make the top 10."

There was a brief silence as you both weighed your options. Finally, Momo sighed dramatically, like she’d just decided to climb a mountain. "Fine, but if anything weird happens, you handle it. I’m just gonna scream and run, deal?"

"I wouldn’t expect anything less from you," you replied with a tired smile as the two of you ventured into the dark hallway. The echo of your footsteps bounced off the empty walls, while the guy on the other end of the phone kept rambling about "electromagnetic phenomena and alien microwaves."

"By the way!" said the guy, as if he had just remembered something. "If you see strange lights, don’t get close. They’re a sign of imminent abduction."

"Great," you muttered, rolling your eyes. "Anything else we should know before we get abducted?"

"Yeah, if you get abducted, ask them how they travel faster than light. I’m really interested in that!"

"WHAT KIND OF PSYCHOPATH THINKS ABOUT THAT AT A TIME LIKE THIS?!" Momo screamed, and this time, you couldn’t help but laugh. At least the strange humor was helping to calm the terror a little.

"Hey, kid, let’s be honest... you’ve never seen a UFO in your life, have you?" Momo asked, crossing her arms and looking at him with a mix of disdain and curiosity.

The guy adjusted his glasses, clearly offended. "DO YOU KNOW WHAT REGRESSIVE HYPNOSIS IS?"

"DON’T CHANGE THE SUBJECT!" Momo snapped, pointing at him with an accusing finger. "I asked you something very simple."

He raised a finger, completely ignoring her while striking a dramatic pose. "THE QUESTION ISN’T WHETHER I’VE SEEN A UFO..."

"Uh-huh, sure," murmured Y/n, rolling their eyes.

"WHAT MATTERS ARE THE FOUNDATIONS OF THE THEORY!" he continued, in such a serious tone that it sounded like he was giving a lecture on astrophysics.

Momo sighed, clearly losing patience. "Again with your nonsense, oh my god. Don’t you ever get tired? Or do you recharge with solar batteries?"

"THIS ISN’T NONSENSE! IT'S SCIENCE! IT’S TRUE!" he protested, with an almost comical intensity.

"Yeah, sure. And how’s it going there, huh? Anything interesting besides your ‘theories’?" Momo said, looking around with feigned indifference as she tried to change the subject.

"I’VE ARRIVED... TOO SHY... SHY... TO THIS MYSTERIOUS PLACE..." the guy shouted on the phone, his voice echoing in the dark, damp tunnel. "WELL... NOW IT'S TIME TO PROVE IT!"

Momo frowned, not as convinced by his enthusiasm. "Please, do you really think this place is special? It’s all dark and super creepy!"

"YOU’RE SCARED! YOU KEEP TALKING ABOUT THE INTERNET, HAVEN’T YOU EVER SEEN A GHOST?!" the guy yelled, his voice strangely echoing in the tunnel.

"Not at all," Momo replied with a nervous laugh, though her gaze darkened a little.

"WHAT WAS THAT RANT ABOUT EARLIER?!" she shouted, pointing at the phone. "TAKE BACK EVERYTHING YOU SAID! How can you believe in spirits if you've never even seen one?"

"What's so strange about that?" Momo shot back, crossing her arms. She lowered her voice a bit before continuing: "I told you... my grandmother is a medium. She raised me because... well, because I don’t have parents."

There was a brief silence. Even the guy on the phone seemed to be lost for words. Y/n looked at Momo, noticing an expression they rarely saw on their friend: nostalgia mixed with sadness.

"I didn’t know..." murmured the guy on the other end of the line.

"Yeah," Momo continued, trying to appear indifferent. "My parents died when I was little. So my grandmother took care of me. But of course, my grandmother wasn’t a normal person. She always talked about spirits, spells, energies. Before going to school, she’d make me do a ritual to protect me from ‘bad vibes’ or something like that. And if I didn’t do it, she’d get mad at me."

"And did you do it?" Y/n asked with a small smile, trying to lighten the mood.

Momo sighed. "At first, I had no choice. But... it was horrible. The other kids would laugh at me. Even the guy I liked... one day he saw me doing one of those rituals and, well, he thought I was an idiot. From that moment on, he started avoiding me. It was the worst."

"That sounds tough," Y/n commented, with a more serious tone.

"Yeah, it was," Momo admitted, shrugging. "I got really angry with my grandmother for that. I think I even said things I shouldn’t have. I felt really alone. But... now that I think about it, it wasn’t so much the ritual that bothered me. It was seeing how they laughed at my family, how they didn’t understand what it meant to us."

"It must have been hard," Y/n said.

"It was," Momo repeated, looking down. "I didn’t regain trust in my grandmother until recently. I realized that, even though her ideas were strange, she did it because she wanted to protect me. And... well, it's all I have left of my family. So, even though it’s frustrating sometimes... I guess I understand her."

The guy on the other end of the phone cleared his throat, breaking the mood. "Well... I don’t know much about spirits, but your grandmother sounds... interesting."

Momo laughed a little. "That’s a polite way to put it. But yeah, she is."

"My grandmother..." Momo began, her gaze fixed on the darkness of the hospital, as if she were speaking more to herself than to anyone else. "Her work as a medium... I don’t know if it’s real. I’ve never seen a spirit. Never. I don’t even know if my grandmother can really perceive them. But you know something? I don’t care. Because, at the end of the day, she raised me alone. She accepted me as her family, even when I didn’t understand anything she did or said. And, in some way, I believe in her."

There was a silence in the group. Even the guy on the phone seemed to have fallen silent for a moment, as if Momo’s words had struck him.

"That’s why I believe in spirits," she continued. "Not because I’ve seen them, but because I believe in my grandmother. And that’s enough for me."

Y/n looked at her with a mixture of surprise and admiration. It was rare to hear Momo speak so sentimentally, but somehow, the sincerity of her words hit like a punch to the chest.

"And you?" Momo asked, turning back to the phone. "Why do you believe in aliens, huh?"

"That... that’s different," the guy replied, somewhat uncomfortable. "You don’t have to see something to know it exists. There’s evidence, theories, data..."

Momo let out a short, bitter laugh. "Oh, sure. Evidence and theories. But tell me something, genius: have you ever seen an alien with your own eyes?"

"Well... no," he admitted, somewhat hesitantly.

"Then what makes you different from me? Why do you assume that yours is more real than mine?"

"Because it’s science," he quickly responded, defensively.

"Science?" Momo raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. "You call science looking at forums on the internet and reading conspiracy theories from people who’ve probably never left their basement?"

"It’s not the same!" he exclaimed, clearly frustrated.

Y/n decided to intervene before the conversation turned into an argument. "Okay, okay, both of you, calm down. Look, I think Momo has a point. But you do too, mysterious guy. At the end of the day, if you like something, you don’t need reasons to believe in it, right?"

They both fell silent, though their expressions showed they still had a lot to say.

"By the way," Momo added, slightly changing the subject, "you talk about aliens like you know everything about them, but... you have the voice of someone who doesn’t leave the house much, am I wrong?"

"What are you implying?" he asked, clearly offended.

"That you probably haven’t talked to another person in months, other than us on the phone," she replied with a teasing smile.

"That’s not true!"

"Uh-huh, sure."

Y/n chuckled softly while observing their dynamic. Even though they argued constantly, there was something strangely entertaining about their interactions.

"Anyway," Momo said, returning to the previous topic, "I don’t know if aliens exist, but one thing I’m sure of: we don’t need evidence to believe in what matters to us. That includes my grandmother... and I guess your aliens too."

"I guess you’re right," the guy admitted, in a somewhat resigned tone.

"Of course I am," she responded confidently.

"Well," Y/n interrupted, looking around, "before we continue to philosophize, can we just focus on not dying here? Because this place still gives me the creeps."

"I'll second that motion," Momo added, adjusting her hair. "Come on, Y/n. And you, kiddo, keep looking for your evidence. We'll do our thing."

"Don't forget to record something if you see a spirit!" he replied.

"Sure, and if we see an alien, we'll introduce you to it in person," Momo replied sarcastically as she walked with Y/n into the darkness of the hospital.

The boy moved slowly through the tunnel, his flashlight wobbling with each step. The place was dark, damp, and had a strange smell, as if time had stopped there. The echoes of his footsteps made him think he wasn't alone, although he tried to convince himself otherwise.

Suddenly, something stopped him.  A few feet in front of him, a figure appeared out of nowhere.

It was an old woman, hunched over, dressed in worn clothes and a hat that looked like it was from another era. Her face was covered in deep wrinkles, but what stood out the most was her twisted, almost grotesque smile.

“What the…?” he muttered, trying to back away.

The old woman looked up, and her eyes shone with an unnatural intensity.

The old woman took a step forward. “I’ll let you suck my… tits,” she said with a twisted grimace, “if you let me suck your dick.”

“WHAT?!” the boy shouted, jumping back. His flashlight shook in his hand, and, in his panic, his phone almost slipped from his grasp.

“Momo! Y/n! It’s a ghost!” he shouted into the phone, although he didn’t know if they were still on the line.

From the other side of the tunnel, Momo looked up, irritated.  “What is this idiot saying now?”

The boy ran as fast as he could, not daring to look back. Each step echoed like a drum in the tunnel, and his panting was deafening.

“This can’t be happening!” he shouted, stumbling slightly but staying on his feet. “It’s just an old exit! YES, THAT’S WHAT IT HAS TO BE!”

He reached his bike, parked at the entrance to the tunnel, and began to wobble as he tried to mount it. His hands shook so badly that he could barely grip the handlebars. “Come on, come on, come on!” he muttered frantically as he tried to pedal.

At that moment, the cell phone in his pocket rang again. It was Momo. With clumsy hands, he pulled out the phone and answered, still panting.

“AYASE! THAT THING IS FOLLOWING ME!”

“Don’t stop, you idiot!” Momo shouted from the other end of the line. “If it catches up with you, you’re done for!”  “It’s the curse of the Old Turbo! If you lose the race against her, she curses you!”

“WHAT!? WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME BEFORE!?”

“Because I didn’t think anyone would be idiotic enough to provoke her!”

The boy looked back as he pedaled, and his blood ran cold. The old woman wasn’t running… she was floating towards him, with terrifying speed.

“NOOOO!” he shouted, pedaling even harder.

“Don’t look back!” Momo exclaimed, almost hysterical. “Just keep pedaling!”

Suddenly, the tunnel was filled with a strange echo.

Momo, who was still shouting into the phone, noticed something strange. “Hey, wait a minute! Y/n?”

The silence on the other side made her stop. She turned her head and realized that Y/n was no longer there.

“Y/n!? Where are you?!”  he screamed, looking around in panic.

The boy’s cell phone began to crackle with static, and the call was abruptly cut off. He was now alone, the echo of the Turbo Old Lady’s laughter filling the tunnel as he pedaled madly towards the exit.

Momo, still holding his own cell phone, felt a chill run down his spine. “This isn’t right… Y/n? Answer!”

Momo made his way down the hallway, the light from his flashlight shaking with each step he took. The air seemed colder with each meter, and darkness enveloped everything around him. “Y/n? Are you there? Please answer…” he muttered, gripping his cell phone tightly.

Suddenly, a strange sound echoed in the distance. Footsteps.

Momo stopped dead in his tracks, his breathing quickening. “Boy? Is that you? Answer!”

But what emerged from the shadows wasn’t Y/n.  They were three tall figures, oddly proportioned. They wore human clothing: buttoned-up shirts with collars, tucked neatly into their pants. The pockets of their shirts were filled with small items, such as pens and a notebook sticking out of one of them. They wore perfectly fitted belts and shiny shoes, as if they had just left an office meeting.

Their heads, however, were anything but human.

They looked like grotesque humanoid masks: expressionless faces with motionless eyes and thin mouths that curved unnaturally. Their movements were stiff, but their eyes followed her with chilling precision.

Momo took a step back, her body trembling. “Who… what are you guys?” she stammered, trying to maintain her composure.

One of them took a step forward, his head tilting slightly, as if he were studying her. Momo didn’t wait any longer.  She turned on her heel and began running down the tunnel, quickly dialing Y/n’s number on her cell phone.

“Y/n! Please answer! There are some weird guys here and—!”

She couldn’t finish. One of the men appeared out of nowhere, blocking her way. Momo screamed and backed away, but she collided with something hard. She quickly turned around and found another one of them, who had appeared behind her without making the slightest noise.

“Leave me alone!” she screamed, throwing the flashlight at one of them in a desperate attempt to escape. The flashlight bounced harmlessly off his chest, and he showed no reaction.

Before she could do anything else, she felt an icy pressure on her arm. One of the men had grabbed her, his grip firm but inexplicably cold. “No, no, no! Let me go!”

The cell phone fell from her hands and hit the ground, illuminating for a moment the expressionless face of one of the men.  “Y/n! Help!” was the last thing she managed to scream before she was dragged into the darkness of the tunnel.

The phone was left there, illuminating an empty, cold hallway. In the distance, the echo of the men’s footsteps carrying her away could be heard, but soon, even that sound disappeared.

⊹ ・・───・・・・ ───  ⊹

Momo opened her eyes in shock and confusion. The room was cold, with metallic walls illuminated by bluish lights, and in front of her were three disturbing-looking figures. With elongated heads, greyish skin and large, dark eyes, they looked like something straight out of a science fiction movie. One of them stepped forward and spoke in a monotonous, metallic voice:

"Greetings, human. We are Serpoians. We are called that because we come from the planet Serpo."

"Aliens?" Momo frowned in disbelief. Her mind struggled to comprehend what was happening. However, the evidence was undeniable: she was facing something that surpassed any logical explanation.

"Do not be afraid," another of the Serpoians continued with inhuman calm. "We are a peaceful species."

Momo, far from calming down, gritted her teeth. Her eyes frantically scanned the room as she tugged at the restraints holding her wrists.  “Peaceful? Nice guys don’t kidnap girls! Where are my clothes?”

One of the aliens pointed to a nearby table where his clothes lay, in tatters. “Your belongings were handled with care. The damage was… accidental.”

“Accidental?! This isn’t cheap! You’re going to pay for this! And I demand that you return me to my home right now!” he shouted, his voice filling the room.

Despite his protests, the Serpoians seemed immune to his fury. “Our species is entirely male,” one explained in a mechanical tone, as if he were reciting a lesson. “For millennia, we have reproduced through cloning, but this has led to the loss of our emotions and genetic diversity. We seek to regain our biological capabilities… using your genetic code.”

“My what?” Momo looked at them with a mix of confusion and disgust. “You’re completely insane! I will not be a part of your Frankenstein experiments!”

Before she could say anything else, the sound of a sliding door interrupted the tension. A tall, sleek figure strode into the room. His futuristic suit gleamed in the light, form-fitting and full of metallic detailing. His face was hidden behind a sleek helmet that reflected his surroundings like a liquid mirror. His presence was imposing.

“Where is my payment?” he demanded in a firm, authoritative voice.

The Serpoians turned to her. One of them held up a black suitcase. “Here you go. However, it is less than agreed. You delivered late.”

The woman crossed her arms, her posture conveying palpable disdain. “My mentor accepts no excuses. Neither do I. This deal was for a larger sum.”

“The delay justifies the reduction,” one of the aliens replied coldly.

The woman clicked her tongue, visibly upset. Meanwhile, Momo, though still terrified, could not take her eyes off the newcomer.  There was something in her voice, in the way she moved… Something that felt strangely familiar.

Her eyes widened as she connected the pieces. “Y/n?” she muttered, almost breathless.

The woman stopped. Slowly, she turned her head towards Momo. Although the helmet still obscured her face, the slight shift in her posture made her discomfort clear.

The room fell into a tense silence following Y/n’s words. Momo stared at her in disbelief, her lips trembling as tears threatened to fall.

“What are you doing here, Y/n? What is this? Why are you with them?” she asked with a mix of rage and desperation.

Y/n let out an audible sigh, placing her hands on her hips. “It’s not personal, Momo. It’s just work. You… were the target. I was paid to bring them what they needed. Nothing more.”

“Nothing more?” Momo raised her voice, her tears finally overflowing. “Is that what I am to you? A job? We were supposed to be friends! I was supposed to be able to trust you!”

Y/n’s helmet reflected the cold lights of the room, hiding any emotion that might have been on her face. But the stiffness of her shoulders gave her away. She tried to stand her ground, looking at Momo from a distance. “This isn’t about you or us, Momo. It’s about… surviving. You don’t understand how my world works. No one survives without making sacrifices.”

“Sacrifices?! Is that what I am to you? One more sacrifice to keep you going?” Momo screamed, struggling against the restraints that kept her immobilized. “You were my friend, Y/n! I trusted you like no one else! I always thought you would understand me!”  But here you are, giving me away like I'm... like I'm a thing!”

Momo's words hit like a hammer. For a moment, Y/n stood still, unable to respond. Something in Momo's voice, in the broken sincerity of her words, touched her heart.

“Do you remember what you told me when you picked me up that night?” Momo continued between sobs. “You said that no matter what, you'd be there for me. That friends never betray each other. And look at you now... giving me away like I'm worthless.”

The tension in the room was almost palpable. Even the Serpoians fell silent, watching the confrontation.

Y/n lowered her head slightly, her voice sounding lower, almost unsure. “It's not that simple, Momo... I—”

“Don't give me excuses!” Momo interrupted her, her voice cracking. “Look at me! Tell me that all of this is worth it!  “Tell me you’re okay with what you’re doing!”

Y/n stood still for a few seconds that seemed like an eternity. Then, she took a step back, clenching her fists at her sides. “I’m sorry,” she muttered, barely audible. Without another word, she turned to the Serpoians. “The deal is done. I’m leaving.”

“Y/n!” Momo screamed, her voice filled with desperation. “Please! Don’t leave me here! Please don’t do this to me!”

But Y/n didn’t stop. She headed for the door without looking back, her bright figure disappearing into the dimness of the hallway. Just before the door closed, Momo, her voice cracking, let out one last scream that echoed in the silence:

“I would never have done this to you, Y/n! Never!”

The echo of her words hung in the air, and for an instant, Y/n stood on the other side of the door.  Her shoulders shook slightly, but she didn’t turn around. With a quick movement, she disappeared, leaving Momo alone, her sobs filling the room as the Serpoians turned their attention back to her.

“Why…?” Momo whispered through her tears. “Why did you do this to me?”

The Serpoians had run out of patience. One of them approached with cold, calculated movements, a strange humming sound emanating from his device.

“Let us prepare to extract the necessary organs. Your resistance is irrelevant,” one declared in a metallic voice.

Momo struggled uselessly against the restraints, her face drenched in tears. “Get away from me! You cannot do this!”

The alien lifted the probe, slowly bringing it closer to Momo. “We will begin the procedure now.”

Suddenly, the sound of a ringtone broke through the air, Momo’s mobile phone began to vibrate on the nearby table. The Serpoians paused, staring at it curiously.

“External interruptions are not acceptable,” one of them said, reaching out a hand to take the device.

Before she could touch it, the phone’s screen lit up in a deep red.  A deep vibration filled the room, and suddenly, a figure emerged from the screen: Y/n, holding a strangely designed pistol.

“Did I interrupt something again?” she asked in an icy tone, pointing directly at the Serpoians.

Beside her, staggering, appeared the boy possessed by Turbo Granny. His body was bent at impossible angles, and his eyes shone with a mix of fear and rage.

“Ayase!” Ken shouted, struggling to stay on his feet as Turbo Granny seemed to control his movements.

The aliens took a step back, observing the scene with a mix of shock and wariness.

“How did you get in here again, Agent Jean Jacket?” one of the Serpoians demanded, raising his hands in a defensive stance.

Y/n let out a dry laugh, though her gaze remained fixed on them. “Let’s just say I have my ways.”

Momo, still trapped in the chair, stared at Y/n in disbelief and rage. “Now you decide to show up?! After everything you did?!”

“This doesn’t change anything, Momo,” Y/n said without looking at her, her voice strained. “This is still not personal.”

“Please don’t give me that again!” Momo screamed, tears sliding down her cheeks.

For an instant, Y/n hesitated, but didn’t respond. Instead, she pulled the trigger on her gun, firing a beam that struck one of the Serpoians, knocking it to the ground.

Turbo Granny, controlling Ken, let out a terrifying shriek and launched herself at another alien, biting it ferociously on the torso.

“Momo, take cover!” Y/n screamed as the remaining aliens began to respond to the attack, their suits glowing as they prepared to fight back.

“I can’t! I’m tied up!” Momo screamed in desperation, pulling at the straps with all her might.

Ken screamed in desperation, his body still fighting against Turbo Granny’s possession. Tears fell from his eyes as the words filled the room, his voice cracked from years of repressed pain.

“No matter how many times I called you, you never came!” He exclaimed, fists clenched, body tense under Granny’s control.  “There I was bullied by children, ignored by aliens… children paid me to beat them up!”

Ken’s words were desperate, but the fury and pain seemed to give him the strength to keep fighting. “My life sucked! And no one cared if I was alive or dead… but (Y/n) and Miss Ayase were the only ones who stood up for me! So get your filthy hands off her!”

At that moment, a spark of control seemed to surge within him. His body trembled, but his mind struggled to take back the reins, preparing to attack. Anger fueled him, his will finally regaining some strength.

Momo, from her position, screamed in desperation, unable to do anything but watch as the fight raged. “Hidden-kun! Do it! We need you!”

But amidst the chaos, the aliens began to move, aware of the growing threat Ken posed. One of them, still reeling from Turbo Granny’s impact, gave an order. “Get those humans! They won’t let this end well!”

The tension rose, but the worst seemed yet to come. A Serpoian, with cold, calculated movements, approached Momo, holding her by the shoulders tightly. “If you don’t give us what we ask for, you’ll regret it,” he said in a monotone voice, while his companion watched Ken, who was still trying to break free from Granny’s influence.

“Gross!” one of the other aliens commented, watching the scene become more and more chaotic.

Momo looked at Ken, fighting against his own body, knowing that control was fragile. “Ken! Don’t give up! You can do it!” he shouted, his voice filled with desperation.

“Enough of all this!”  The voice, firm and full of power, boomed through the room.

It was Y/n. Her presence was imposing, the helmet reflecting the light from the screens, but behind it, her expression was determined.

“I won’t let them hurt you anymore, Momo!” she said, as she raised her gun towards the Serpoians.

One of them tried to react, but a direct shot to his torso stopped him dead in his tracks.

“Hmm?”

Momo briefly looked away at Ken, but soon returned her focus to Turbo Granny, whose teeth were still piercing her calf.

“I’ll eat your cock!”

“What?” Y/n stepped back, horrified, but still trying to understand the situation.

“I… it’s not me! It’s Turbo Granny!”

“Are you really the only ones who can save me?” Momo thought, as her eyes focused on Ken. The situation was becoming more and more chaotic.

The alien and Momo watched the conflict in silence. Finally, the alien turned his gaze to Momo, noticing the chaos between the humans. “Now I will begin with the excitement.”

He extended his hand over Momo, who closed her eyes, feeling a growing pressure. Her face twisted in disgust as, for a moment, she thought she could no longer get out of this situation. It was then that, in her mind, an image from her childhood began to emerge: an important memory of her grandmother.

“Release your chi.”

“I don’t want to...”

Momo, as a little girl, found herself at the entrance of her grandmother’s house, long before she met you or Ken.

“The other kids always make fun of me for that. I look stupid.” Momo explained to the older woman, as her grandmother knelt in front of her with a calm smile.

“No, it’s not like that… When you release your chi, you will never get hurt or sick.  It will also help you keep evil away.” Grandma placed her hands gently on Momo’s shoulders, before taking her small hands firmly.

“Now, tense your abdominal muscles and imagine your chi rising from the top of your head.”

Momo, with effort, tried to follow the directions. Immediately, a painful memory flashed through her: the children laughing at her when she tried to do that pose.

“I hate it! I won’t do it again!” Momo screamed, shaking her head as her eyes widened in fury.

Her grandmother, still patient, held out her hand, asking for calm. “Momo! Wait!”

“I hate you, Grandma! You’re an imposter!”

That moment of anger made the memory flash through her mind in a distorted way. However, deep down, Momo knew she didn’t hate her grandmother. She only felt ashamed, something she was now beginning to understand.

Then, he began to imagine his grandmother’s words, remembering the technique she had taught him. As he visualized the flow of her chi, something inside him triggered, and, in that instant, the chair containing her broke under her energy.

The fight between Ken and Momo stopped at the same time, both of them staring in amazement as Momo began to levitate.

“What?! She never said she had psychic powers!” Ken exclaimed, his eyes wide as Momo floated.

With a slight bend in her legs, Momo raised her hands, looking at the two men around her in surprise. “I… I didn’t know I had them either.”

The alien who had tried to attack extended his hands towards Momo, but she, now fully focused, stared at him. “My psychokinesis is being repelled by a higher force. What’s going on? Maybe the human’s brain waves were overloaded, allowing her to access her chakra.”

Momo, fascinated by the piece of metal floating above her hand, turned her gaze towards the alien with a determined smile. “She’s not an impostor! My grandmother is a genuine medium! Thank you, Grandma!”

Meanwhile, the boy tried to bite Y/n and in the process, ripped off her helmet, revealing Y/n’s pastel blue skin and the dark blue glowing antennae emerging from her head.

She tried to defend herself, trying not to shoot him with her gun, but he scratched her skin, making fissures that healed automatically.

Momo stood up and, with her newly acquired powers, launched a powerful kick at the alien. However, he raised his arm and stopped her with force. “Now I have the power to face these monsters! And make them fly!” Momo shouted, full of determination.

With a last effort, she kicked the alien, sending him through the walls. The explosion that followed was deafening, and the lights in the room began to flicker violently.

Momo screamed as she felt her body collapse, as she watched the destruction falling around her. “We are inside a real UFO!” she exclaimed, surprised, looking around for Y/n and Ken, and finding them on the ground fighting, she was horrified. “(Y/n)! Occult-kun!”

Swiftly, Momo approached Granny Turbo. Suddenly, her body began to glow with a clear light, while her hair flowed wildly. At that moment, the curse that weighed on Ken disappeared.

Suddenly, the room darkened, turning red. Before them, Granny Turbo appeared, her gaze fixed and malicious. “Who the hell are you two?” she said, her voice cold and challenging.

Turbo Granny curled her fingers, causing Ken to pull away from Y/n, his body arching as a painful gurgle came from his lips. Momo watched, eyes wide, recoiling slightly as she saw how Ken was still under Granny’s control. “Granny is out of her body!” she exclaimed, alarmed. “But he is still under her curse!”

“This child belongs to me,” Turbo Granny said with a mocking smile. “As long as I have him, the curse will not be lifted.  I can't stay here for long, but if you want me to free him, go to the tunnel. If you want to fight me, come to me. Damn classless bitches!”

“Who are you calling a bitch, you filthy old woman?! Give him his penis back!” Momo shouted at the ghost that was walking away.

Y/n, seeing Momo so worried and determined, quickly approached her and, with unexpected strength, lifted her into her arms. Momo blushed at feeling so close to her, her cheeks turning red as she couldn't help but look down, avoiding Y/n's eyes, which were shining with determination.

“Don't worry! We're going to get out of here,” Y/n said firmly, beginning to quickly climb the walls of the UFO with the agility of an expert. Momo clung to her, the warmth of her body comforting her, but her mind was filled with chaos. In her chest, a strange feeling was born, something she had never felt before.

Ken, still disoriented from the curse and the explosion, was on the ground, slowly recovering. Y/n, still moving, lifted him up with one hand, placing him on her back as she continued to ascend.

“Come on, Ken! You have to get up, we have to go now!” Y/n shouted, and Ken, his eyes still somewhat clouded, nodded weakly.

The room was crumbling around them, and a dark energy filled the air. The walls were beginning to shake violently, and the lights flickered desperately. Momo, her face still flushed from the closeness to Y/n, looked down as they ascended, unable to stop her heart from beating faster than normal. What was this strange feeling that was invading her?

Suddenly, a loud boom shook the UFO, and a gigantic explosion went off behind them. The walls began to give way, and the ship seemed to be on the verge of total destruction. Y/n, not losing her cool, leapt forward, bringing Momo and Ken with her in her leap, escaping just before the UFO exploded into a ball of fire.

With a deafening bang, the UFO disintegrated behind them, and in the air, Y/n, Momo, and Ken flew through space, jumping out of the ship's reach, completely safe but on the verge of despair.

Momo hugged Y/n tightly, no longer caring about the blush, as the wind whipped at them, and Ken's body rested on Y/n's back.  The scene was chaotic, but it had all happened so fast, and the only thought running through Momo's mind was how she felt so strangely calm in Y/n's arms, as the ship crumbled behind them.

"Are we safe?" Ken asked, his voice weak, as he watched the distance between them and the exploding ship.

"Yes," Y/n answered, without hesitation. "We're safe... for now."

But as they floated in the air, Momo couldn't help but wonder how they could have survived all of that. And even more so, how her feelings towards Y/n seemed to have changed in a matter of seconds, and what it all meant to her.

⊹ ・・───・・・・ ───  ⊹

Near Kamigoe Prefecture, a curious pastel-green being walked casually through the crowded streets of the city. It had the appearance of a puppy dog, though its size, its long antennae that glowed faintly in the daylight, and its tail that swung like a whip of jelly made it clear that it was no ordinary dog. In one hand it held a burrito wrapped in silver paper, and in the other, a large soda that made gurgling sounds with each step.

The little alien eagerly bit into the burrito, spilling some of the sauce on the ground. It paused for a moment, sucking its fingers before continuing to walk. Its attitude was that of someone who belonged there, though it didn’t bother to hide the strangeness of its appearance. People watched it in awe, but the alien seemed immune to the curious glances.

“Mom, look! A puppy!” exclaimed a little girl with braids, pointing at it with joy.

The being stopped dead in its tracks, its ears (or what seemed to be ears) perking up at the sound. It slowly turned its head towards the little girl, its eyes shining like a pair of tiny green suns. “Who are you calling a puppy, kid!?” it shrieked in a high-pitched voice with an accent that seemed to be from another planet… literally.

The little girl’s mother froze, tugging on her daughter’s hand as she tried to process what had just happened.

“Speak, Mom! The puppy is speaking!” the excited little girl shouted, tugging on her mother’s arm.

The alien, offended, snorted and raised his donkey towards the little girl, as if it were some sort of weapon. “Hey, on my planet, insulting someone by calling them a puppy is a declaration of war, you know? But I’m too busy today to respond to your taunts.”

The mother, now completely terrified, dragged her daughter away from the little being, muttering something about “moving to the country.”  The alien pup shook his head as he took a long sip of his soda, producing a clattering sound that drew even more stares.

“Humans…” he muttered tiredly, his antennae twitching in slight annoyance. “You can’t just walk around town without someone mistaking you for a pet.”

He continued on his way, dodging the crowd with surprising agility for someone with a burrito and a soda in his hands. Every so often, he would stop in front of a store to admire some product, though he quickly grew bored and kept moving.

A man in a suit saw him pass by and frowned. “Is that… a dog in a costume?”

“I’m not a dog!” the alien shouted without even turning around. “And stop looking at me like that or I’ll throw my burrito in your face!”

The threat seemed to have an effect, and the man walked away muttering something about “needing more coffee.”

The little creature finally reached the entrance to the town, where the lights were beginning to fade and the shops were turning into open fields. It stopped and looked out at the horizon, its antennae leaning forward as if it were sensing something. It took a last sip of its soda, letting out a loud burp that echoed through the air.

“Fine…” it said, wiping its mouth with the back of its hand. “Now I just need to find that damn ship before someone else calls me a puppy.”

He continued walking towards the end of the city, his half-eaten burrito still in his hand. Behind him lay a line of perplexed humans, and ahead of him a fate awaited him that, as always, would be anything but boring.

The little alien continued to walk with a sure step, enjoying his half-finished burrito, when suddenly, his antennae began to vibrate intensely. A slight buzzing sound went through his head, as if he had tuned into a distant frequency. His expression tensed, and his eyes, which used to shine with indifference, now narrowed with seriousness.

“What the…?” he muttered, looking around as if searching for the source of the phenomenon. His antennae continued to vibrate, and the buzzing sound grew higher. Then, looking up, he saw it.

In the distance, a thick column of black smoke rose from the old university hospital, followed by an explosion that lit up the sky as if it were a misplaced fireworks display.  The alien dropped his soda, which slowly rolled to a stop in a sewer.

“No way!” he screamed, bringing his hands to his antennae as if trying to stop the humming. He looked back at the hospital, frowning in a mix of disbelief and exasperation. “Y/n did it again?!”

The small being began to walk faster, then trotted, muttering under his breath. “I told you not to go soft on the merchandise! But no, you always have to play the heroine, dammit!”

He paused for a moment, as if he had remembered something, and shook his head in frustration. “And you sure left a mess behind, like always! By all the rings of Saturn, you’re really going to listen to me this time!”

With one last glance at the burning hospital, he let out an annoyed growl.  “I hope you at least saved something valuable, because if not…”

The little alien ran off on his short legs, leaving his donkey forgotten on the ground. His pastel green silhouette was lost in the shadows, while the smoke from the hospital covered the horizon, promising chaos and answers in the distance.

A/N ── Oh, hey, it's me again.

First off, let me tell you something: I'm in love with Dandadan. Seriously, I can't even explain how much I was hooked on this series from the moment I found out how it went. It was like a cosmic crush. Each chapter left me more hooked, more obsessed, and obviously I couldn't resist. I ended up buying the ENTIRE manga set that was available so far. I literally couldn't wait to find out what was going to happen with Momo after those last chapters that left me with my heart in my throat. This series is pure magic and chaos, and I can't get over it.

Now, let's talk about my baby, or Y/n. Let me tell you that her spacesuit is directly inspired by Smart Lady from a Japanese series (if you know which one, you're one of mine). I wanted something that screams alien but with style, and I feel like I nailed it... sort of. But, here comes the kicker: her personality is still not well defined. She's a mess, I admit. But that's the whole idea. Because she's an undercover alien, her personality changes depending on the environment she's in. It's like she's constantly adapting to fit in, but at the same time, that lack of consistency is part of her identity. Existential drama at its finest!

And here comes the tricky but interesting part: the character doesn't have a defined gender. Visually, she could pass for a woman, and she identifies as a woman because that's how she feels, but here's the plot twist: she has no defined genitals. Yes, you read that right. She's neither biologically male nor female. She's something beyond that, something that she may not even fully understand. For now, she treats herself as a woman because that's what feels most comfortable and natural to her earthly experience, but... does it really matter? I want to explore how that ambiguity affects her, how it influences the way she sees herself and her interactions with others. It's a key part of her story that I hope to develop little by little.

Oh, and regarding the technical chaos... I know this first part had its problems. It was published by itself, the dialogues were poorly arranged, it was very long, blah, blah, blah. But now, it's all well and good. I think.

[whatdidtheydotomygirljinx]

the problem is that it's so hard to really analyze anything about arcane, and draw any conclusions about the story, because of the way it was written and conceived in the first place.

to the people who're like "yeah season 2 was bad, but season 1 was a MASTERPIECE in story writing and PERFECT in every way", that's just not true. the cracks were already there in season 1. there's multiple things, especially overarching ones, that just don't add up, and several ways that the story progresses that seem like odd choices. the thing was that, to me, the rest of it was all so good... the small details, the contained scenes were so well done, so detailed, so touching, that i really believed that maybe those cracks were just hiccups after all, and it's not a big deal, and maybe they'll even make a lot more sense and all get tied up with a nice little bow in season 2 (ha)

to me, at this point, it seems obvious that the way season 1 came into being was that these three idiots (who should never be allowed to write anything ever again) wrote a script, that was so terrible that riot had to bring in help to fix it for them (cause they were that incapable) and then someone got handed their slop and told "save this as much as you can, but keep the main points the same", and save it THEY DID! but the overarching plot is still the original one. which is why there's this dissonance all across it.

season 1 often seems like it's trying to tell two different stories at once. the example that comes easiest to me is jinx's transformation from powder to jinx post time skip. to the people i know irl who watched it, me included, the difference between these two is jarring, to the point that it just doesn't seem realistic that powder would change that much. this is what most people's reaction to her transformation was. like, sure, she changed... but jinx is almost a completely different person. and we can sit here and analyze all we want, and say yeah, but look, in ep2 min37, powder laughs when an enforcer is hurt, so that shows that she is indeed attracted to violence even at this age, but like... first of all, im at this point fully convinced that these details were put in specifically for that, to attenuate the valley that is between powder's character and jinx's, and I also honestly feel embarrassed that i even have to do all of this at all.

other notable examples are whatever is going on between jinx and silco in their relationship. like, yeah, he was actually a good father to her... but actually, there's something weird going on between them... but actually, no... he was better than vander, but actually he was worse than vander and was actually the cause of everything bad in jinx's life..... and on, and on, because the literal story itself never actually makes up its mind on what it wants the relationship between these two characters to be. same as it never makes up its mind on whether powder was a cute, innocent kid who was just manipulated by silco, or if powder was born like that and was just looking for an opportunity to release her inner jinx. same way as it never makes up its mind on whether vi is a devoted sister, who would do anything to get powder back, as she herself says, or if she actually thinks this new enforcer chick she just met is kinda cooler, as her actual actions would indicate. does silco adopt jinx because he sees himself in her, or does he intend to use her as a weapon and then later on grows to actually care about her? there comes a point where "this is a complex story" just becomes an excuse for "we were actually working with three different ideas at once and we never really decided on which one we were gonna do and we kinda just prayed it would all work out somehow"

the one thing that arcane season 2 has on season 1 is that it doesn't suffer from any of these weird identity issues. it's bad and simplistic but it's bad and simplistic in its entirety and it doesn't ever seem interested in being anything else. the story has no continuity or congruence issues, except of course for the ghost of season 1 that haunts it, and especially haunts the writers, who so far have displayed nothing but dismay for the story that actually made this show so acclaimed, and have done all they could to bury it as much as possible in season 2.

now, personally, im a big death of the author truther. even more so in cases like these, where we're dealing with teams of people. power struggles happen in studios, and in writing rooms, and at every level of production. and these three people that have taken credit don't seem like the most emotionally (or intellectually) mature individuals.

so, to solve all these issues, just know that when im discussing or analyzing arcane, im going off the interpretation of the events that serves the story the most, and that leads to the most meaningful narrative and the one that is most worth telling. all of this weird lee and overton slop that snuck in im gonna be completely ignoring.

[thekittyokat]

you ever just have a lot, a LOT of feelings all at once about a character and not even remotely enough words or brainpower to FORM the words to describe everything you're feeling. so it feels like you may explode. yeah