#and for those reasons: you have been chopped. <- can you see them taking effect?

[morgana-pendragon]

every time i go to take these goddamn pills i forget how to swallow what is UP with that .

[alphajocklover]

So for Halloween, what about a story of a geeky "vampire" that goes around ducking the muscle out of alpha type jocks and bodybuilders?

The first thing you need to know about Vampires is that, yes, Vampires are real. I’ve only really talked about Alphas and Camous, but there are actually a lot of nonhuman creatures in the transformation community, and in the world itself. Some are way less human than others, and many are very hard to find, but they’re out there. 

The second thing you need to know about Vampires, is that they’re nothing like the ones you’ve seen in the movies. Vampires like that, ones who feasted on blood and burned in the daylight, used to exist, but over time they’ve evolved. They’ve evolved much faster than humans do, to the point where they’re completely unrecognizable. They don’t have super strength or speed, they don’t have to be invited into a building to enter, and they don’t drink blood. Today's Vampires feed on something else entirely. They feed on traits.

It’s hard to explain exactly how they do it. Traits, even the more measurable ones like physical traits and IQ, are fairly subjective. So how do you feed on something like that? It’s so hard to wrap my mind around that I’m not entirely sure how it's possible. What I do know is that they can do it easily. Prolonged skin to skin contact with a victim allows a vampire to drain a trait out of a person. They devour the potential that person had, consume that part of their victims' Identity. The trait doesn’t just go away though, itt transfers over to the Vampire. Vampires don’t just eat traits, they steal them. 

I know this sounds kind of scary. In a world of transformations, where we already have such little control over who we are, real life Vampires who can steal your traits can be a little threatening. They could take a physical trait, a mental one, a social one even. Any part of your identity is up to grabs for them, like you’re a walking buffet. But there are ways to stop Vampires, or at least ways to spot them before they get too close. 

I want to start by telling you what won’t work, because there are a shocking amount of inaccuracies out there. Holy Water is powerful, but it works on Demon and Devils, like my Uncle’s boyfriend Nick, not Vampires. A stake to the heart will kill a vampire, as will chopping off their head, but only because either of those would kill anyone. Don’t try it, you’ll go to jail. They’re slightly sensitive to garlic, but not enough anyone will really notice, and both running Water and sunlight don’t have any effect at all. You may be a little concerned because that's actually a lot of their weaknesses I've just struck out, but they still have a couple key ones that could help you. For one, they hate silver. It won’t truly harm them, but they get unnaturally uncomfortable around it, so it acts as a repellent. Some sort of leftover evolutionary trait from when they were like the creatures in the movies. Another is their age. One thing Vampires are constantly doing is stealing youth. Usually just a couple months here and there from different people, so no one notices any discrepancies. It’s why vampires never age in the myths and stories, because they don’t seem to age in real life. If someone has been young, or looked young, for a long time, that may be an indication they’re a vampire. They also do have fangs, but to most they appear to just be slightly larger canine teeth The best way to figure out if someone is a vampire though is their reflection.

Unlike the movies, Vampires do have reflections. They appear in mirrors, just… not as they appear in real life. The mirror, for whatever reason, will always reflect the Vampire’s original, natural form. It doesn’t matter how many years a vampire steals, or how much muscle they take from unsuspecting jocks, they will always look in a mirror and see themselves for how old and skinny they really are. This doesn’t apply to pictures, so a lot of Vampires just avoid mirrors and look at themselves through cameras, but if you suspect someone is a Vampire a mirror is the quickest and best way of sniffing them out.

Even if you’re covered in silver and carry a pocket mirror, don’t think you're automatically safe. Vampires are masters of deception, and are skilled at working their way into people's lives. Not only that, but they can steal traits from other mythical creatures, not just humans. An Alphas dominance, a Camous camouflage, a devils magical power. The best Vampires have an arsenal of powerful tricks from those they’ve taken advantage of before.

Vampires are, frankly, a very interesting and terrifying part of the world. But because of their ability to pick and choose their traits, they’re also incredibly attractive. Take this one, who just stole the muscles of his latest victim. The former jock hasn’t even noticed yet, and the Vamp is reveling in it. That’s not uncommon, Vamps like to play with their food

*This isn't technically a trick or treat ask, but it's halloween themed so I'm going to group it with those. I hope you guys love the idea of trait vampires as much as I do!*

[heavilycaffeinatedsblog]

Hey, just wanted to say your recent post about the election really inspired me. As a queer Latina, as a college student relying on FAFSA, as someone who heavily relies on having access to reproductive healthcare to stay alive, this election really was a slap in the face. It’s upsetting, demoralizing and infuriating but that doesn’t mean we should sit in our sadness either. Now’s the time to take care of ourselves and our peers and found out what we can do about our situation. I’ve been reading through your replies for things I can do in my own life and already found a few things I plan to implement. Some things I’d add are

Speak up and speak out- in times like this it can feel extremely isolating knowing just how much hate is out there. But there is also love and it’ll find its way back to us if we keep fighting and keeping talking about our issues, our concerns and our struggles. They can’t silence us all

Organize- if it’s safe to do so, many organizations and grassroots efforts are still fighting the good fight and making their voices heard. This one varies state by state and even city by city but social media has made it easier than ever to find and connect with groups who are still out there protesting and disrupting the flow post-election. Find out what those grassroots groups in your area are doing and see how you can participate

Spread awareness- honestly even posts like the one that started this ask is already a form of resistance! Reblogging and reposting resources helps get that information to someone who may need it. Whether it’s hotlines, health or community centers or simply just a “hey you’re not alone” post, its something simple, easy but amazingly effective

Continue writing and sharing- there’s a reason books are on the chopping block for being banned. Just as there’s power in reading, there’s power in writing. Give voice to your frustrations and others will resonate with them as well. Reading something, even fictional, can be a call to action.

Your words are more powerful than you know.

All of this!!!!

[a-french-coconut]

Drew Tanaka (Part 3)

She sees the hurt in Lacy’s eyes when she makes a cruel remark about her makeup. 

It’s impossible to ignore Mitchell’s glare when she throws away his used shoes, “making more space for better clothes”. 

She feels the dislike for her growing in Thomas and Héloise. 

Good, better for them to hate her. It will hurt less when they inevitably leave her. 

She knows she’s hurting them but one day they’ll understand that she did for good reasons. 

It’s laughable, irony at its finest. 

A child of Aphrodite scared of love. 

It might be the most beautiful thing the Fates ever crafted. 

Camp already didn’t like her, it doesn’t take too much effort for it to despise her. 

A little flirting over there then a charming smile here, some charmspeak and two campers are fighting, her standing in the middle, modern Helen as Menelaus and Paris fight for her. Here it is not Aphrodite, oh no she’s sure her mother is enjoying the view, but Chiron that separates the enchanted boys and girls. 

At the beginning, they forgive her. Put her despicable attitude on Silena’s death and that she’s allowed to grieve, that nobody blames her. 

Drew laughs, a cruel cold sound (such unlike Silena’s warm, inviting one) promising even crueler words. 

She doesn’t remember all the insults she hurled at her dead sister, Clarisse’s punch has been quite effective on her nose and memory. 

Months passes and Drew’s eyeliner gets pinker and sharper. Her makeup is an armor, one she wears every seconds of every day. 

While the demigods of Camp Half-Blood forget Silena Beauregard, Drew dreams of her every night, laughing over bodies aflame, hugging her and murmuring kinds words, talking to that damned bracelet. 

It’s not a healthy lifestyle. But Silena is true daughter of Love, consuming her very essence and mental health even in death. No amount of makeup is waterproof enough to resist her endless tears at night. 

Eight months after the battle of Manhattan, Drew Tanaka can finally go to sleep without seeing her dead sister. In the grand scheme of the universe, it’s not such a big deal, not when Percy Jackson disappeared and that Annabeth Chase is going mad trying to find him. But to her, it’s liberating. 

She still thinks about Silena from time to time. And every time her heart turns into a boiling inferno of hate and grief but now she has time to breathe, air enters her lungs and she isn’t suffocating anymore. 

Some campers see through her façade, Will Solace harbors no love for those who murdered half his cabin while Connor Stoll stills has to force a smile when a new camper asks him about Luke. 

She always admired Will’s capacity to forgive, to plaster a wide smile for every camper entering the infirmary, even the children of Ares who wished the death of Cabin 7’s residents during the war. 

If it was Drew, she would have screamed at them until her throat was raw and buried them under guilt and shame. 

She would also have kept that stupid chariot very preciously, not landing it to Annabeth Chase who had been manic, mumbling things about the Grand Canyon and a guy with one shoe. 

When said chariot crashes into the lake, ruining it completely, it’s funny to see Will loses his normally calm behavior, Annabeth’s promise to fix it doing nothing to calm him down. 

“Where’s Jackson ?” she asks, not seeing the son of Poseidon. 

“He wasn’t at the Grand Canyon, Hera just wanted to keep playing with me.” Grits Annabeth, “but we found these three.” 

She gestures at the three demigods behind her, a tall blond guy with electrical blue eyes, a small latino boy and a girl with horrendous chopped hair. 

“Woah, really feeling the love here.” Mumbles the latino boy, his hands fiddling with some strings. 

“Yeah, what’s your problem ? You’ve been looking at us, especially Jason, like we are the ones who kidnapped your boyfriend.” Adds the girl, crossing her arms defensively. 

“Nobody wants you here hun, you and the rat nest you call hair can leave for all we care.” 

Seeing her face reddening is most amusing, Annabeth’s scolding having no real effect on her but for the sake of her authority in Camp, she obliges and keeps her mouth shut. 

The latino boy, Leo Valdez she learns, is claimed really quickly. She had to say he doesn't have the typical built of an Hephaestus kid, all scrawny and elfish features.

She wonders whose children are Jason and Piper McLean, Jason could very well be one of her siblings while Piper is certainly not. Maybe Hermes, or Iris with those kaleidoscope eyes.

With one look, she can assert what kind of girl Piper is. She's the girl thinking herself superior for not caring about her appearance, for not wearing makeup.

She's the type of girl who hates girls like Drew.

Well, Drew has no problem hating back.

There is obviously something between them, the way Piper reaches for Jason's hand and-

Oh

He doesn't take it back.

Drew tilts her head curiously, looking straight into his blue eyes, trying to decipher his emotions.

Confusion, anguish, fear, a sentiment of not belonging, all of those are very common for new arrivals.

What is not, however, is the void. She cannot feel anything else, no joy or sadness.

It's like he doesn't have them.

"I don't remember anything except my name, sorry."

Or maybe he forgot them.

Drew frowns, missing completely the dialogue between Jason and Annabeth about roman names or whatever, not important.

It would seem he has amnesia, a severe one for even forgetting emotions. She's not sure she can help with actual memories but she could try to charmspeak him at a subconscious level, trigger the emotions back.

Her gaze shifts ever so lightly, enough to meet Piper's eyes looking at her with unhidden dislike, her hand tightening around Jason's.

Drew rolls her eyes, typical of that kind of girl, to think that every women looking at their boyfriend are interested.

But fine, she'll play the game.

She makes the sweetest smile she can and grabs Jason by the arm, the poor boy getting really confused at her actions.

"Come on, I'll show you Camp while Will takes Leo and Annabeth guides Piper. I'm much better company."

Jason, the oblivious type it would seems, nods and follows her. She smiles at him, winking at Piper behind them who's looking absolutely furious.

She first takes him to the Big House, where Chiron wanted to meet him, then shows him all the different cabins. When he asks her about Percy Jackson, she tells him about his quests, the battle of Manhattan and his perfect love story with Annabeth.

She doesn't make any flirtatious remarks, treating him like she would with a brother. Really she just wanted to piss off Piper, she has not romantic interest in Jason whatsoever.

When she finishes the tour, she leaves him alone with the Hermes Cabin and goes join Will in the infirmary.

"So, how's Leo ? Seems like the hyperactive kind."

"Spot on, poor Nyssa already had Harley to babysit and now him."

"You don't seem to like him that much."

"It's not that, he just asked questions about sensitive subjects. He had no idea about the battle of Manhattan, it was on national news how could he miss that ? And then, Jake gave him Beckendorf's bed, did you know they had secret rooms, and he was really inventive about it. I know, he didn't know it but come on, asking to specify how he died just to know it is wasn't on his bed ?"

As he rants, he organises the infirmary's shelves again and again, even though everything is already in order.

"Sup bitches !"

Connor strolls in, going to sit just next to Drew dodging easily the band aids coming his way.

"How's Jason ?" she asks him.

"Poor dude really got his memory messed up. You're interested in him ?"

"No, just wanted to mess with McLean."

"I bet she's your sister."

"Don't be ridiculous, she looks like she crawled out of a dumpster."

"Remember that for tonight."

"I'm siding with Connor on this one," Will chimes in.

"You are both wrong."

"Anyways, did you know that Piper passed out in Hera's cabin ?"

"Why didn't you start with that ?" panics Will, "does she need any help ?"

"Nah, Annabeth didn't call any of your siblings playing basketball just next to them, I figure she's fine."

They stay together until campfire, Drew and Will shamelessly teasing Connor about Malcolm, the son of Hermes blushing and yet denying their claims.

"You do know that Travis complains to me about how your pining, right ?" reveals Will.

"He's so dead next Capture the Flag."

Campfire goes as usual until Jason summons a lightning bolt and a quest is issued.

"Son of Zeus and brother of Thalia Grace," whistles Connor seated next to her, "I did not see that coming."

Drew doesn't pay him much mind, focusing on the prophecy announcing that a child of Aphrodite must go on the quest.

She's the oldest in the cabin, the most experienced fighter and more importantly, the only one with charmspeak.

Bright young Lacy with the cutest smile.

Heloise dreaming about her creations on the runway.

Thomas' aspiration to be a therapist, to help demigods deal with their feelings.

Mitchell who's got a little mortal brother waiting for him when he's old enough to survive in the mortal world.

What does she have ?

A father a little distant but who loves her dearly.

A letter of acceptation to Brooklyn Academy of the Gifted for next year.

She has everything to lose going on that quest, risking death.

"The dove obviously means Aphrodite. I volunteer to help Jason on his quest."

She resists the urge of scoffing at the wide eyes looking at her.

Drew Tanaka, doing a selfless and heroic act ?

All of them forget she was in Manhattan, fighting for Olympus as much as them.

All of them forget the beads on her necklace, giving her seniority over many seated around the fire.

All of them forget that Drew has once been a loving sister, always cold but never one to back down from protecting those she loves.

It's alright, she doesn't mind.

Even children of Love need someone to love them back.

"I'm the one going !"

Of course, dumpster girl is going to make this complicated, she groans internally.

"Oh, and with what experience ?" she asks Piper sarcastically whose looking very embarrassed with the whole camp looking at her, "do you know how to kill specific monsters ? Do you know how to fight ? No answer ? You arrived this morning, McLean, you're not qualified for a quest."

And no matter how much you get on my nerves, you don't deserve to die.

"But- Rachel spoke to me in Hera's Cabin !"

By Aphrodite, stop trying to get killed !

"And what do the rest of you all think ? Who should go on this quest ? Piper, or me ? Don't you think I'm more capable, I actually have training that will help me survive in the mortal world. I'm the best choice."

Sweetness coats her voice, all the campers agreeing with her words, a pale pink halo glowing around her.

She smirks at Piper.

I win, honey.

"Stop listening to her ! Don't you see she's tricking you ? Don't listen to her words."

Her smile's drops instantly, eyes narrowing on Piper.

Was that-

I can't be.

But she cannot feel her charmspeak on the campers anymore, the spell broken somehow.

It was then.

Piper just charmspeaked the whole camp and didn't even do it on purpose.

"I know I just got here the morning but I feel like I must go on this quest."

How infuriating.

"You're nor lightning nor forge sweetheart." she snarls at Piper, "And you are certainly not a daughter of Aphrodite."

At her mother's name, Piper glows pink as a holographic dove appears above her. When the glow diminishes, she is now dressed in a white peplos, golden jewels adorning her arms. Her hair is no longer the disaster it was when she arrived, now long and silky.

Chiron bows, the whole camp following his gesture, even Drew.

"All hail Piper McLean, daughter of Aphrodite !"

"Still convinced she's not your sister ?"

"Shut up Connor."

Part 4 posted !

[wordsandrobots]

Apropos of half-awake thoughts this morning, I've been considering the perennial subject of people coming into fan-works and making demands of the writer or artist in regards to their creative choices. You know, 'this is wrong', 'you should change this', 'make more!!!' etc. It's been quite some years since I had to deal with that kind of behaviour but I've seen it happen to other people and it always sucks. Today my brain has decided to connect it to Humphrey Smith.

Story time: the town I come from has three breweries. The reason for this is that the limestone we're built atop filters the local water, making it 1) good and hard and 2) easy to access. Technically we're a market town but brewing is the foundation of our modern economy.

Two of these breweries, John Smith's and Sam Smith's, are the remnants of the brewing empire started by John Smith, a Victorian gentleman endowed with truly spectacular mutton-chops and also money, who bought an existing brewery in the town before building a new, much more impressive one further up the street. After his death, the business was left to his brothers, one of whom would go on to leave the old brewery to his nephew Samuel. Thus, the empire split into two. Both halves are still operating and have been successful enough that the current owner of Sam Smith's -- Humphrey -- is the biggest land-owner in the town.

Here is where the problems begin. You see Humphrey is, to put it gently, crackers. He suffers from being exceptionally wealthy and, despite some motions towards investing in local amenities, largely exists on a moral crusade against the changing social mores of the 20th Century. He won't countenance any businesses that does not contribute to the atmosphere of a sleepy market town (read: basically anything), refuses to maintain or sell off his properties, leaving the place full of the rotting shells of buildings, and he's been at war with the town council so long, they're currently planning to build on a flood plane that does indeed routinely get swamped by the river just to have somewhere to put new houses.

The man is not well-liked, is what I'm saying. And among his 'charming eccentricities' are the strict requirements he enforces on the pubs he owns. Any Sam Smith's pub must be run by people of good moral character (preferably a married man and woman), there must be no music and no phones, no swearing, no motorcyclists, no kissing, etc, etc. Basically imagine the dourest stereotype of Yorkshire grimness and that's what he's actively aiming for (no I am not kidding, just check out the 'controversies' section of the Sam Smith's wikipedia page).

Anyway, the point of all this is that there's a lovely tale shared around the town about how, one day, our Humphrey walked into a local pub and said to the bar-tender something to the effect of, 'Switch off that music, throw those people out, take down those fixtures and fittings, this is not the Victorian traditionalism I pay you for.'

Only, the bar-tender leant over the bar and replied, 'well that's nice, Mr Smith, but this isn't one of your pubs.'

Should you find yourself in the position of having some dipstick with fixed opinions swan into your work and start telling you everything you've gotten wrong, I think you could do worse than bear this heroic chap's words in mind. Your work is not their pub. They have no claim on what you make and no grounds for enforcing their vision over yours. They aren't paying you, you aren't working for them, and frankly, they have profoundly misunderstood the situation if they think they're entitled to tell you want to do.

This is true even in the face of widely accepted fanon or when you're cutting against general expectations. In fandom, every piece of art is the result of our own personal reactions to a piece of media. We can decorate our individual pubs however we want and if other people don't like it, well, they can lump it. Go forth and do what you like, music and kissing and all!

[This post brought to you by the belated 11 year anniversary of that berk on dA who spent ages arguing with my attempt at redesigning the Quarks from Doctor Who. The *bloody Quarks*, man! Sheesh.]

[gazsluckyhat]

Nine- Ice Cream

Sarah's House

Masterlist

Hurricane Helene can suck my asshole man. Western North Carolina is fucked. We are struggling. Could've never prepared for this. So keep us in your thoughts and prayers. It's gonna be a rough go.

We get to see Sarah's version of that night in Russia. Super excited to get to her team too! Any questions or ideas are welcomed!

Price knew he shouldn't take the mission. The outcome seemed obvious, or so he thought. Until he wasn't anymore.

or

Like calls to like. Or something of the sort.

Price read the emails he'd been avoiding, the amount in big white numbers in the corner of the app. He was on the balcony, cigar dangling from his lips. There was a nice breeze flowing through the air and it helped calm the anxious nerves creeping down his back. Tomorrow was gonna be another stressful day and he knew he didn't have the heart to deal with it. The look on Sarah's face had been enough to make him rethink it. She'd be a complete mess and the boys had to go in for a couple hours so it'd be just the two of them. One single look and he knows he'll cave. Easily. He scrubbed his hand down his face, the sun already set behind the trees.

"Can I join yo-u?" She's wearing a simple set of pajamas. Her hair still damp from the shower she'd took with Soap. Price nods, his tounge heavy in his mouth. She stands beside him, leaning her chin in her hands. Eyes glued to the view. "My mama al-ways said th-ose thing'll kill ya'" He turns to look at her, her eyes glued to the cigar in his mouth. He puts it between two fingers.

"Ya? Sounds like a smart woman." Sarah nods, a sad look in her eyes.

"The best." She turns back to the view before flipping back. "Can I try?" Her eyes not curious. Price is shocked almost, suddenly aware that his lips had dampened the end a bit. But she doesn't seem to care, eyes watching him closely.

"Thought they'd kill ya'?" Her eyes light up.

"Russians th-ought a lot o-f stuff woul-d kill me." She shrugs. A small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. He holds the cigar out, expecting her to grab it but she doesn't. No, she opens her lips slightly, awaiting him to place it between her pink lips. He stutters for a millisecond. Lust creeping up his spine and into her bloodstream. Images of him slipping something else between those lips dancing in his mind. He steadies himself and sets it in her mouth, lips softly closing around it and then she breathes in. Nice and deep and he can see her chest moving. She pulls it out and holds the breath in for a minute before releasing the smoke, Price surprised at how easy she handled it. She looks at him and smirks.

"Have a couple trick-s up m-y sleeve." He chuckles and accepts the cigar back. She then leans into him, her breathing nice and steady. "I'm so-rry about ear-lier." Throwing a arm around her and pulling her closer and kisses the top of her head and speaks.

"No reason to be. After everything it's expected. But it'll be you and I tomorrow. Boys gotta run to base for a little while." She nods into him.

"Okay. Promi-se I'll be go-od." His breath catches in his chest, blood immediantly going to his cock. Good girl. Fuckin good girl. That was new, he wasn't vanilla per say, but not once had he ever thought of the phrase in a sexual manner. But her saying it, pressed into his side was causing some very unfortunate  side effects. She must been able to tell too, her hands wondering up his side and turning him to face her. She studies his face, green eyes taking in his features. Hand reaching up and rubs his mutton chops and smiles. Using her other hand on the other side.

"Surp-risin-gly soft." He chuckles as she does it and rubs her hair. Then her fingers rub over his lips. Soft touches causing his body to go wild. He clenches his hand by his side and closes his eyes, suddenly aware at how touch starved he is. Been so focused on missions and his team he hadn't thought about himself. He's still telling himself that he's not going to act on his thoughts because maybe she's just curious when she presses her lips to his, warm and soft. She's pressing most of her weight into him, leaning on her tip-toes to even be able to reach him. He threads a hand into her hair and cradles the back of her head. Leaning down slightly so she'd doesn't have to stretch so much. She pulls back first and it's only enough to look up at him.

"Th-ank you." Then she's kissing him again, more forcefully. Hands knotted in his t-shirt. Leaning back again she whispers again, "Will yo-u sleep wi-th me to-night? Pl-ease?" He eagerly nods, even if it's just sleeping. He needs to feel her in his arms, safe and content.

Sarah groans for what feels like the hundredth time, Price rubbing her back in circles. The morning had started off decent. He woke up to his alarm, Sarah happily tucked into his side and softly snoring. He watched her for a few seconds before waking her up with a kiss, one that she happily leaned into to. Hands tangling in his hair and her hips bucking. And as much as he would love to have just pinned her to the mattress and finally experience what Simon and Gaz had, they had things to do. Which Sarah promptly tried to hide from. The blanket wrapped fully around her. Simon had to drag her out, kissing her shoulders and promises of a very detailed meeting later. Gaz had tried to help with coffee and a bagel, kissing her cheek and mumbling how much he'd miss her while gone. She'd gave him sad eyes and asked to come with him, he'd handed her off to Soap so he didn't have to tell her no. 

"It'll be okay lassie. Captain will take good care of you." He kisses her head and goes to get ready leaving her staring at Price with big watery eyes. She even sticks her lower lip off for maximum effect. And Price knows he's in trouble. Because he'd give her anything to clear up that sad little look, even though he knows she's putting it on to try and get out of the events taking place today.

"I don’t wa-nn-a go." Eyes with unshed tears. He knows she's actually scared. Can see the fear in the way she holds her shoulders and fidgets with her hands. Price nods.

"There's a ice cream shop on this little strip." She focuses a little more. "Even better there's a bookstore two stores down. I will take you after your appointments and let you buy whatever you want if you go." She squints at him.

"Promise?" Price smiles knowing he's won. He uses his hand to cross his heart.

"Promise." And so she eats.

She still looks so tiny in the sweater and sweatpants she'd picked out. Her long hair tied behind her. Her hands were fiddling with the top as they waited for her name to be called. The first two appointments had been hectic. Price having to held her hand through the first and the second had apparently been worse. Her new therapist saying she refused to talk. Said she almost took off when she even mentioned Russia. Sent them off with 'maybe next week'. So here they were, a sterile waiting room with age old magazines and shitty TV. The only other people in the lobby were a couple of what looked to be veterans. One having lost a leg and the other with a prosthetic one. Her throat closed up when she looked at them. Memories clouding her vision.

"Am I one?" She'd whispered to Price. Voice shaky. He's been confused at first. Not quite understanding what she was asking, until he followed her gaze. His hand had found hers instantly and he squeezed. He didn't know what to say. Hadn't prepared the 'thank you for your service' spiel he usually gave. It seemed so wrong to use it for her anyway. He'd never be able to properly thank her for what she'd done. And Kate hadn't fully talked to him about Sarah's military career yet, or if she still had one.

"I- I really don't know lovie." She'd nodded, but he could see her brain working. Knew what she was thinking. "Don't do that." He tapped her head.

"I wan-na go ho-me." Her voice cracked and he pulled her to him. Placing a kiss to her head he spoke quietly.

"Jakobs?" He pulled her up and they headed towards the nurse. "Hi, I'm Leah. I just need to get your height and weight." Price keeps a eye on her as she steps to the scale. See's the way her face blanches when it stills. Forty kilos. Way underweight. The nurse seems shocked as she writes the number down, Sarah quickly stepping off and to his side. Leah leads them to a room, and points to the table for Sarah to sit on. Price drags the chair beside it and grabs her hand, Leah once again a little shocked as he does it.

"Are you examining her?" He asks, using his work voice. Leah shakes her head.

"Doctor Kline will be in her shortly. He'll do the physical stuff." Sarah stiffens and Price kisses her hand. Both her blood pressure and heart rate were elevated but it was normal under these circumstances.

"It'll be alright. I'm right here." He speaks as they wait for the doctor.

The door swings open and a tall, well fit man in his late thirties walks in. He has a Hollywood smile and it beams, but all Sarah feels is fear. It's cold in her veins. Causing the hole in her chest to widen and her vision to swim. Calm down. She tells herself. Trying to will her body to relax, but it's no use. Her hands are clammy and she knows she's sweating under her top. But still, Price is right beside her, hand held firm in his grasp. Even if it's wet, he holds it tighter and rubs his thumb across hers. Sarah's closes her eyes and goes towards that feeling he gives her. It's a light, dim but she can see it. So she focuses on it and goes towards it. Feels like she's swimming through sand but she keeps going. Until it's brighter and right in front of her. Reaching her hand out its encompassing, warm and calming. Price is suddenly all she feels, his presence relaxing. When she opens her eyes her heart rate is slower and her chest feels better.

"I'm Gerard. I'm gonna be your physical therapist." He doesn't hold his hand out, doesn't make any more to come towards her. Sarah is grateful. "I've read your file, I won't pretend to understand what you've gone through. So you take the reins. If you aren't comfortable with me touching you that's fine, maybe I can talk your boyfriend through it, yeah?" Sarah blushes. Boyfriend. The term making her feel like a school girl. She peeks at Price but he's smiling, even squeezes her hand and chuckles.

"If she's alright with it, then yeah, sounds good." Fuck. He didn't deny it. Liar. She ignores the voice. Instead nodding towards the doctor. And then they're at it.

Sarah thinks maybe Ice Cream was made for people who'd wanted to experience the heavenly feeling of sex but not actually do it. Because the delicious dairy delight in front of her was the second best thing. Only to the way she'd been fucked the past three nights. Price watches with a smile and happily takes a picture to send to the guys. Who'd worried him with questions and updates. He'd almost turned his phone off.

"Here, you got a little.." He wipes it off with his thumb and she smiles before taking the digit into her mouth and sucking it clean. He has to cough to hide the groan. "When you get done we can walk to the bookstore, ya?" She nods and continues to eat.

"My te-am, how are th-ey?" It knocks him off guard. He has no idea what to say. Her team hadn't been a thought in his mind since they found her, and when it was it was hateful thoughts. But she was staring at him, her spoon abandoned in her bowl.

"Sarah-" He starts and she looks away.

"Did th-ey look for me?" His heart breaks. She's not looking at him, eyes darting around. He swallows the lump.

"Yes. They did. But Sarah-" She once again cuts him off.

"I wan-na see them." She's crying, droplets running down her cheeks. Price doesn't know what to do.

"Sarah, they disbanded your team. Your captain was punished and demoted. The rest were sent to other teams. That' all I know." Her eyes go wide.

"N-no. It's n-ot his fa-ult! Ry-an didn't d-o any-thing!" Her voice is shrill. He can see the panic in her eyes.

"That's the problem, love. He didn't do anything. For hours." Sarah shakes her head. "C'mon, let's go to the bookstore." But Sarah is shaking, her eyes glassed over. Price is kneeling in front of her, hands on her shoulders.

It's so cold. The snow is thick around her, the white camo concealing her perfectly. Ryan had picked the spot, said he'd seen Bryan and Craig ahead of her to scout it out first. She'd picked her favorite rifle, the one her and Dean carved her name in. She's hunkered down, her eyes focused on the land in front of her. It's a simple mission, mainly recon. She's the sniper, something she loves but misses the hands on combat, and her team are going to explore a base not to far away. She can see it from here, the entrance lit by a small light. Ryan is leading section A north-east while Dean is leading team B north-west. They're supposed to meet at the door. Sarah, Raven as they call her, is watching, trying to make sure they have a clear path. But there's no one. No guards or anything. The catwalk even clear. It doesn't feel right. Something is off. She hits her earpiece.

"Raven to Beaver." Static. "Ryan, you there?" Nothing. Something is wrong. She lowers her eye to the scope and looks for them, spots them going towards the door. Following the mission. Maybe it's just the spot they're in. She finds Dean, he's doing the same. She forces back the nagging feeling and keeps watch. Ryan radios to Dean to make sure they're in position. And they are, so he keep going. Looks back and doesn't see Raven but he knows she's there. They make it to the entrance easily, no one in sight.

"Dean, on three." And so it goes. Easily. They find it empty. No one in sight. He radio's Raven. "Raven, Beaver in position. It's empty. What does it look like on your side?" Nothing. A beat and his does it again. "Raven, are you there?" He sees Dean straighten up, eyes focused on him. "Sarah, can you copy!" Still nothing.

"Cap, what's going on?" His eyes dart towards the hill they'd left her on.

"Raven isn't answering." Dean runs out the door. "Dean!" Ryan quickly tells the team the new plan and they head out, Dean ahead of them.

Sarah see's stars. They're sparkling. And oh so pretty. He head is throbbing, she doesn't know where she's at or what's going on. Someone is talking, their voice gruff. And it takes her a few minutes to regulate her brain before she realizes it's in Russian. She tilts her head to the side and see's at least five Russian soldiers near her. Her gun in one of their hands.

"American scum." The one talking has a cigarette in his hand. "Bring her back. Let the General take her." She refuses to let that happen. Grabbing a knife hidden in a compartment in her outfit she flips up and jams it into one of the soldiers. His yell alerting the rest. She dodges a bullet and throws the knife, it lands in the guys throat. He fumbles getting it out but collapses once he does, the blood pouring out. There are arms around her chest suddenly, her vision swimming from what she assumes is a head wound. Throwing her head back she hears a crunch and is let go, slipping before she gets back on her feet and grabs a handgun on the ground. Her head is pounding, stomach turning. She can feel herself getting weaker. Knows she won't last much longer. But she refuses to go down without a fight. She points the gun at one of the men approaching her, but misses when she shoots. Her aim way off. Stumbling back she goes to tackle him, aiming her head towards his middle. Her size made these kinda take downs easier. He lands on his back and she begins to pummel him. Her fists hitting anything they can. He's rendered unconscious when she hears it. A gunshot. Loud and clear then pain. Sudden blinding pain. She takes her hand towards the starting point and pulls it back covered in blood. Her blood. She feels the adrenalin fading, realization replacing it. She gonna die. She falls back on her knees and feels the tears. She's gonna die here and she didn’t even get to tell her dad goodbye. Black is encroaching the edges of her vision. She closes her eyes and falls back, snow crunching under her weight. Footsteps loud in the distance. As she fades away all she can think about is her team and how she's let them down.

[kawaii-angelanne]

TW/CW: suggestive implications, timeskip spoilers for kita

KEY TAGS: third pov/kita pov, gender-neutral reader, established relationship, fluff, lowercase

WORD COUNT: 455

CROSS POST: ao3

OPENING NOTE: thanks for clicking on this! please do not repost, copy, modify, or overall plagiarize this work anywhere else please. plagiarism is never acceptable, both in mla 8 format and in fanfiction! for translations, message me, and we can talk about it! reblogs, comments, and likes are super appreciated :>

SUMMARY: where kita shinsuke takes note of your apple-eating habits.

it is by no means apple-picking season. if anything, apple-picking season passed just a few months ago.

however, for some reason, lately you’ve been having an appetite for sweet, red-green honeycrisp apples, bringing a bundle of them every time you come back from the farmer’s market.

when kita shinsuke comes home right as the sun sets after tending to his rice fields, he finds you in the same spot you’ve been in for the past week: curled up in the corner of the couch, watching something on the tv, snacking on another one of those apples.

now, shinsuke doesn’t mind your latest apple obsession; he has no reason to. however, there’s just one thing: you’re too lazy to cut them into slices.

it’s not that you only take a few bites and then toss it in the trash. you actually finish until the core is as thin as a pencil!

no, the issue here is that, as shinsuke now notices while sitting next to you, after you take your first bite, a stream of juice drips down from the apple, down your hand, and down your arm. and, instead of wiping it off on your shirt, you curse quietly, and raise your arm to your lips, your tongue jutting out to drag across.

you finish doing all of that in less than a second, but, for shinsuke, time slowed to make the moment last like an eternity. his brain fails to move past what his eyes just laid witness to. your voice calling out to him is unintelligible, your siren-like voice demoted to muffled sounds in the background.

shinsuke immediately excuses himself to the bathroom and, as he stands right in front of the mirror while staring at his flushed complexion, tries to at least calm the sudden beating of his heart before going back to you.

the two of you have been dating for the past two years. shinsuke doesn’t have to hide from you every time you’ve managed to fluster him; in fact, he often doesn’t hide himself whenever that happens. but, still, he doesn’t feel comfortable with his mind turning something so innocent, so innocuous, into something so licentious and perverse.

after splashing his face with cold water and patting it dry, he comes back and sees that you’re all done with the apple, now hugging a pillow against your chest.

and now all is at peace as he climbs into the sofa close to your side.

so, now, before shinsuke leaves to take care of the rice paddies, he chops up one of your apples and leaves the perfectly-cut slices in a ziploc bag for you to enjoy later. and, as he tends to his rice farm, he begins to heavily consider appending an apple orchard to the never-ending acres of growing rice.

ENDING NOTE: so this is me experimenting with a different type of formatting (its rlly j me taking out the pics and long summary); i wanna see what effect this has on the tumblr community :>

and this lil drabble was birthed by me eating an apple and having some juice drip down my arm and wondering the silly lil suggestiveness behind me licking it LOL

i hope everyone stays safe and healthy! till next time!

[candycryptids]

Hiya! I hope you're doing well today! I love your characters and how you've structered their bios! Since Chuusday is listed first, is she technically your official WOL or is it someone else? Do you canonically have a WOL in the first place?

Also, I find it SO sweet that you and one of your partners both play FFXIV and have characters paired together ;w; Did you meet ingame or long before either of you started playing? Either way I wish you both the best!!! <3 - gardenofballads 🌻

Awaaaah! Im doing pretty ok!!! Taking time to answer this as a wind down from Emerald Weapon Ex Brain Soupage. And I’m so glad! ;W; I think I butchered one of those “Get To Know An OC” thingies- uhh… oh [this one] actually! I chopped a lot out and I think added a couple different thingums instead because there was so much to that that it felt overwhelming to try to look at let alone fill out LOL but it was a really good jumping off point uvu;

And!!! Hilariously Chuu was my First XIV Character, so she’s dear to my heart for being the first one- but she very quickly made it known being the WOL even as an AU was something of a Joke (Her character showed great reluctance and even frustration at having to do So Much World Saving, maybe a side-effect of me rushing through MSQ to catch up with my other spouse [Who plays Talia, though they’ve got less time for XIV these days ;0;] and the rest of my friends who were all EndGame already at the time in Shadowbringers fhdjfjsjfs.) So I made…… many alts. Throwing spaghetti at the wall but I have SEVERE side-character/NPC brain and kept making “supporting cast” types =w=; it actually took me like. 3? Alts before making an ACTUAL WoL with my husband (Ishi’li and Kizuna) (as of Right Meow, they’re in post ARR, but we’ve been working on Keathan and Tuesday together because Keathan was… Keathan’s first character in xiv XD so we’ve been jaunting through the story together and experiencing every inch of it so we can pick and choose what The Boys™ get up to when we wanna focus on them x3)

🥰 I knew both speece during at least high school- but I actually knew Keathan as early as Elementary school hehe 😌 tho the speece didn’t proper marry until… i’unno, 2017? (For frustrating legal reasons, I’m not legally married, but. As it goes. Someday we’ll have money to visit the one state that has legal poly marriages. Also I struggle to remember our wedding year 🫢)

Since managing to make a Co-WoL with my husband I’ve managed to make one other Alt meant to be a Solo-WoL (Mochiie) but I have to really wrinkle my brain to sink time into playing him, since I’m trying to take screenshots throughout the story at what I find to be inspiring beats xD And even still he has an alt-universe where he’s just a side-character for the ‘Main Timeline’ (where there’s a bunch of spaghetti and like 8+ confirmed WoL’s and the Msq entourage looks HILARIOUS in canon, someday I’ll get all the data together and take pictures, but I think it’ll cook what’s left of my brain x’3) [it’s less concrete than anything I’ve posted about before or I’d try to explain it ;v;’ it’s just interesting mostly to see how the story gets stretched to fit around a larger community of heroes than a solo guy shouldering the whole burden lmfao.]

🌸🌸🌸…. I also hope you’re having a lovely week @gardenofballads !!!! I am tossing flower petals into the air around you !!! Thank you for the ask and well wishes n kind words 🥺💖 🌸🌸🌸

[all-or-nothing-baby]

i've said similar before (as have countless others on here before me) but i'm taking a moment to say this again:

IT'S OKAY TO LIKE MEAN/BAD/HORRIBLE AND EVEN JUST DOWNRIGHT PURE EVIL CHARACTERS

and i think it's wildly stating the obvious to say the following but apparently there are still some folks who need to hear it:

CHARACTERS AND THE STORIES THAT THEY'RE FROM ARE NOT REAL; THEY ARE ALL MADE UP BECAUSE STORIES ARE MAKE-BELIEVE AND CRAFTED FOR OUR ENTERTAINMENT

irl, i seriously dislike mean people. i despise bullies. i can't think of anything worse than a person who does 'evil' deeds to others and enjoys it. granted, i can at times end up feeling sorry for some of these arseholes bc a lot of the time there are genuine reasons for their poor behaviour; sadness/trauma/mental illness/etc. but that isn't me dismissing that behaviour, i'm just trying to have some understanding and empathy for their suffering because it's clear that it's effecting their humanity, y'know? it's often a sad reality, but does not mean i would excuse a person treating others badly.

STORIES ARE NOT REALITY

the characters from the books/tv show/movie/play/podcast etc that you like are not real. they are dreamt up to help us learn lessons from a young age, to make us laugh at their stupidity, to help us see that those who have found themselves on a dark path are mostly there because something terrible happened to them. these characters are brought to life for us in sometimes terrible forms—those truly dreadful villains—to help us work vicariously through emotions we all suffer with from time to time, the irrational feelings we can have of revenge or world domination lol. there is anger that we, as a race, all have to deal with, intrusive thoughts that we all sometimes struggle with. when we feel ourselves wanting the badguys in the movies to win, it can help us to manage these kinds of real life feelings we suffer, and it might mean we can learn how to deal better.

it's like wanting to punch someone. i would personally never actually want to do that—but occasionally as humans we might feel like we want to.

DOING THINGS LIKE USING A PUNCHBAG OR AGGRESSIVELY CHOPPING WOOD CAN BE THE SAME KIND OF REPLACEMENT ACTIVITY AS ENJOYING A MORALLY BAD CHARACTER. IT IS TAKING A FEELING AND RELEASING IT SAFELY WITHOUT DOING ANYBODY ANY ACTUAL HARM

also, none of us are perfect creatures! none of us. liking a bad or morally grey character can sometimes be because you might see some of their toxic traits in yourself, and feel better about the fact that even though you have faults, at least you're not as bad as they are. or maybe you know somebody like the character, someone who—even though their actions are wrong and you don't agree with them—has had a terrible life and you have some understanding of why they behave in the way they do. maybe the character helps you understand that person more and have more empathy for them and others like them?

AND SOMETIMES BAD GUYS ARE JUST GOOD FUN

baddies get to do the things we sometimes wish we could! who doesn't occasionally wish they could do a michael douglas d-fens in falling down?! or have the whole world kneel at their feet as loki does?! or be so be clever and cunning you can get away with any criminal plan you damn well choose like james moriarty?!

even the 'pure evil' characters in media are written so that we love to hate them, otherwise we wouldn't care about what happens to them, and caring about the story and it's characters is the whole point. and even if you just wholeheartedly love them—like you completely adore those vile bastards, regardless of all their evil deeds—that's okay! they're not real. just because you enjoy a character like hannibal lecter doesn't necessarily mean you want to murder and eat people, you just like a character who does terrible things because they have been written to be liked.

IT IS ENTIRELY NORMAL TO BE ENVIOUS OF AND/OR SIMPLY ENJOY A VILLAIN, BECAUSE THERE ARE SHADOWS AND REFLECTIONS OF OURSELVES, ALL OF US, HOWEVER BIG OR SMALL, IN EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM

so, the paramount thing to remember is:

VILLAINS AND BADDIES AND MEANIES IN MEDIA ARE! NOT! REAL! THEY ARE FICTIONAL CHARACTERS AND IT IS ABSOLUTELY FINE TO ENJOY THEM BECAUSE THAT IS THE VERY THING THEY WERE CREATED FOR

anyway, thank you for coming to my ted — *gets shot by the bad guy*

[waitingforwinterwinds]

ASOS; Steel and Snow: 20 CATELYN III (pages 273-284)

Robb puts an ally to the chopping block when said ally kills two team Lannister hostages in revenge for his own dead sons, the Stark/Tully fam try to keep a hold of the situation, and Jeyne asks Cat for advice on helping her husband.

-

Only the fact that some had spears and others empty scabbards served to set them apart. All were clad in mail hauberks or shirts of sewn rings, with heavy boots and thick cloaks, some of wool and some of fur. The north is hard and cold, and has no mercy, Ned had told her when she first came to Winterfell a thousand years ago.

I feel like there's something of a metaphor in there, in that ally and enemy look the same, and which is which doesn't make a difference to their fallen foes, or those left to pick up the pieces.

...Karstark makes an unfortunate point. In absolving his mother in order to absolve himself of his broken oath instead of even a symbolic punishment, Robb has said the treatment of prisoners outside of his orders is not treason no matter what is done to them even against his orders.

Robb has effectively traded his own forgiveness for the "sanctity" of the law. (all of which is made worse by the fact Robb is an oathbreaker now, and why should men keep oaths to him when he does not keep his own.)

Her son wanted comfort, Catelyn realized; he wanted to hear that it would be all right. But her king needed truth.

I don't really have a comment here, just that this line hits hard, damn it's raw. The internal conflicts it contains.

"Th Others can take her, then," Robb cursed, in a fury of despair. "Bloody Rickard Karstark as well. (...) and all the rest of them. Gods be good, why would any man ever want to be king? (...) I told myself... swore to myself... that I would be a good king, as honorable as Father, strong, just, loyal to my friends and brave when I faced my enemies... now I can't even tell one from the other. How did it all get so confused? -"

D&D suck at their job = 🥛

I'm sorry, but show!Robb felt whinier, like he wasn't having much internal conflict beyond "this sucks but I gotta", (or maybe I'm remembering wrong because it's Been A While) Book!Robb is fully cracking under this pressure and you can feel it. It's not just "oh no, things are going wrong" it's the falling dominoes of consequences out pacing him before he can see they're there, and it weighs on him.

(also I'm thirsty and I wanted to excuse to drink... I think I'm coming down with something...)

... why were the boys naked? just sleeping nude? is that a thing? they don't have PJs and won't sleep in their clothes?

"Old gods or new, it makes no matter," Lord Rickard told her son, "no man is so accursed as the kinslayer."

I just had a mental image of Ardyn Izunia tearing this book apart for coming for him like that.

... damn this execution is a heavy scene, it feels like there are moments in it where Robb could turn back here and avoid his fate, but it's a lie. They've locked themselves into course with their actions, and at this point there is no turning back, no avoiding this execution or its fall out. The fallout would be devastating either way.

"It's a hard thing, to take a man's life." "I know. I told him, he should use a headsman. When Lord Tywin sends a man to die, all he does is give the command. It's easier that way, don't you think." "Yes," said Catelyn, "but my lord husband taught his sons that killing should never be easy."

... you know what? D&D suck at their job = 🥛

Because I really don't think they got this. It's a central theme, responsibility and the value of life, and it seems to have just flown over their heads in favour of cool sword fights and sexposition. But it's so present in the books? all the characters who have killed people, you can see how it weighs differently to them, the people and circumstances and justifications and reasoning and the trauma. and D&D just ask "how many packets of fake blood can we buy with this season's budget?"

"Jeyne, child, you have wed the north, as I did... and in the north, the winters come." She tried to smile. "Be patient. Be understanding. He loves you and he needs you, and he will come back to you soon enough. -"

This feels both like a poetic way to talk about culture shock between the south and north, but also like Cat's saying "you've married into a family with a history of mental health issues." Because yeah, there are vibes in the Starks; depression, anxiety, lowkey autism. And that is good advice for living with people who do have mental health stuff going on: be patient, be understanding. Most importantly be aware that it's a long haul, whether there's meds that can make things "better" or not, some mental health stuff is a 'for life' thing.

The girl did seem to have a good heart, just as Robb had said. And good hips, which might be more important.

Ehehehehe

[jeanjauthor]

You also might want to consider why each weapon was developed or where it came from / its origins.

Spetum and Military Fork were designed to pierce an opponent and pin them in place so that others could do more damage while they were too busy trying to get free to hurt you.  This could also be said for the spike on the Lucern Hammer and the Halberd.

The Ranseur, however, developed from boar-hunting spears; it has a cross-piece designed to stop its opponent, as opposed to the Partisan, which is also a weapon of war.

The Bardiche, Voulge, Halberd, and Glaive are long-shafted descendants of axes. However, the Guisarm and the Fourchard are actually pruning tools.  (Especially the Fauchard.)  How do I know? My father was using similar items in his landscaping business for many years.  Those hooked shapes with the cutting edge on the inside curve are very useful for pruning tree limbs overhead.

(Consider the hand-sickle and the scythe for their own similar cutting motions--though of course these days most pruning poles have saw-blades on their edges.  Saw blades, however, are not nearly so useful in battle as a smooth cutting edge, since jagged saw blades can get stuck in their targets far easier than smooth edges--and then you’re the one stuck like you’d been hit with a Military Fork...presuming you don’t want to drop your weapon for some reason.)

The Bec De Corbin is straight-up long-distance mace-style penetration to the helmet, which the Lucern Hammer is also designed to do.  Both are incredibly effective when allowed to just fall in a chopping-motion, because gravity gives momentum, which gives those pointy tips penetration power.  And yes, the Poleaxe and Halberd also have penetrative points opposite their chopping blades, as opposed to the Bardiche, which has none.

And finally, the Spear was, is, and always shall be a hunting tool.  But despite its seemingly humble beginnings, it is far more effective in war than most people realize.  Unlike the larger polearms, it can be wielded one-handed as well as two-handed, and can even be thrown if made the right size.  Paired with a shield, it could keep a foe at a distance, but paired with a shield wall, you and your buddies standing more or less shoulder to shoulder, it becomes the start of a phalanx, one of the most effective battle formations of the pre-firearms era.

The development of each of these weapons tended to be a local thing, with blacksmiths taking what they already knew how to make (boar spears, axes, pruning tools) and turning them into warfield weaponry.  but it also varied over time, depending on the opponents’ countermeasures, such as types of armor.  A blade isn’t going to cut through plate quite so easily as chainmail (rivets are a weak point), so you’ll probably want something either more stabby (also good on chain), or more hammery (very penetrative).

...But maybe you don’t want to give up that blade, since with enough force in a downward swing, it’s gonna cut into armor anyway, and not everyone on the warfield will be in full battle plate...so you’d probably go for a three-in-one such as the Halberd.

So remember, writers, if you’re writing a society that lives more in the forest, you’re going to see more axe-style weapons and more boar-spear-style weapons.  If you’re on the open plains, you’re going to see more spears, which can be thrown more readily when there aren’t bushes and trees in the way...but it also depends on the type of warfare and foes your characters will face.

Friendly reminder

[blog-eatos12]

Why 99% of My Audience Won't Implement Art ificial Intelligence in the Restaurant Industry (And Why They're Losing Out)

In a world that is fast becoming increasingly dominated by technology, the phrase "artificial intelligence in restaurant industry" is speaking of science fiction movies rather than restaurants full of activity. Nobody needs to be told that the face of business is being altered by AI, but an astonishing 99% of my audience community comprising many restaurateurs still wary of letting artificial intelligence into their kitchens and dining rooms. They are missing out on a banquet of benefits.

AI: The Unappreciated Sous-Chef Beyond Barriers to AI Adoption

This is a buffet of reasons why the restaurant industry is embracing artificial intelligence as slowly as a lazy susan in a dusty diner. Everything from cost anxiety and intimidation factors to simple old-fashioned resistance to change. The irony is: that while these are fears that hold things back, the competitors are slicing, dicing, and serving up efficiency with AI-assisted gusto.

The Secret Sauce for Smooth Operation

How AI Agitates Efficiency

That's what AI brings to a staff that already knows how to deliver true hospitality. Think of a kitchen where inventory is never an issue because your AI system calculated the right daily supply for you and ordered it for you. Think of a dining room where the service happens quickly, but is still personalized because AI sorted out table turn times and remembered guest preferences.

The Data Dilemma: Serving Up Personalized Experiences

Decoding Preferences with AI

If restaurants are asleep at the wheel on the value of AI, they are giving away a goldmine of data to refine every detail of their operations how steak patrons like their steaks to the peak hours for cocktail orders-to improve service and make every diner feel like the guest of honor.

AI and the Customer Journey: Serving Satisfaction Every Step of the Way

Revolutionizing the Dine-In Experience with Technology

Myth: It de-personalizes dining. Popular thinking suggests that the introduction of artificial intelligence into the restaurant industry will de-personalize dining. Far from it. Smart reservation systems ensure names are greeted with a warm smile; robots can deliver meals while the human staff takes time to personalize their interaction with customers, and AI-driven loyalty programs can dish out rewards that keep people coming back for more.

How a Side of AI Leads to Main Course Profits

The Recipe for Monetary Success

Scary worried restaurateurs can't see that AI can fill the bottom line with amazing figures. From efficient use of leftovers with infallible algorithms on inventory right up to the best upsells and downsells that data predict will be winners, AI is the ultimate advisor for menu planning and pricing strategy. ROI as plump as a well-stuffed ravioli waits for restaurants willing to take a bite off it but many are still refusing.

Cooking Up a Storm: The Real-World Impact of AI on Restaurants Success Stories That Will Have You Hungry for Innovation

The mouthwatering examples of how AI can be in action are some of the world's smartest eateries and globetrotting to them. There are places where wait times have been chopped down due to effective AI booking systems, kitchens that create less waste because of smart inventory tracking, and marketing campaigns that resonate more with customers because AI has deciphered the demographics like a culinary sleuth.

Conclusion: Welcome the AI Revolution in Hospitality

It's a simple fact: the hospitality and food service arena cannot help but ride the technology advancement train, which is speeding up faster than the steam speed. As close to 99% of my audience shudder at the prospect of AI in the restaurant space, the truth remains that those who do not adopt are going to watch the more innovative one disappear into the horizon of success.

Ready to Serve Up Success with AI?

To the sensible restaurateurs who form the majority, wake up from this sleep of doubt and step into tomorrow's kitchen. Artificial intelligence, after all, is your ally, a tool to be wielded in gaining greater accuracy, efficiency, and engagement in your restaurant operations.

Infuse AI into the strategy of your restaurant, and you will see how the processes of the entity become streamlined, customer satisfaction increases, and revenue grows; there is a whole world of technology-infused possibilities waiting to be explored. Don't allow fear of what you do not know to keep you from the banquet of benefits that may be yours through AI. Now's the time! Let's get techy by joining us at eatOS, and set the pace for the future of dining. Bon Appétit to innovation!

[chrismerle]

so, I like horses (was a certified Horse Girl growing up and took lessons for several years, shelves are still full of horse knickknacks). I like video games. I played a handful of horse games when I was younger and I've observed enough conversations on horse games to agree that a lot of them suck, but also I really disagree with a lot of things people say should be mandatory for good horse games. I think a lot of the hyper-exact controls and minutia of endless competitions and keeping track of strides and pacing makes for boring games. the horse game I played the most as a kid was Equestriad 2001 because it had cross country and I could use cheat codes to ride a flaming death horse with metal hooves and send the rider careening 50 feet before ragdolling every time I missed a jump.

every time I see a game where it's like 'breed however many horses, master these incredibly fiddly controls' it's like ... why. if you have 72 horses that are all basically interchangeable except for coat colors and you're just maximizing stats, then it could be a motorcycle racing game and very little would change. like, no shade to people who do like those games, they are just not what I want and I get tired of hearing 'I found an ACTUALLY GOOD horse game' when I know it's going to be something that I won't like. see, I like narrative-heavy games. some horse games don't have stories, some do, but if you can buy, sell, and breed horses at the drop of a hat, then the horses can't actually be included in the story. they can be props or macguffins--you own a stable, you own a ranch, you inherited a farm--but if there's a revolving door of horses then they can't be an integral part of the story. the game may as well be about running a chop shop and racing on weekends.

so what is my personal ideal horse game, then? picture, if you will:

at the start of the game, you get to design one human character and one horse. they can look like whatever you want, within reason. the human is the player character. you're a courier in the apocalypse. i see no reason why a horse game can't be fantastical. if i wanted to play RDR then i would.

your character already knows how to ride. they've been a courier for a while. the horse is already trained. but the horse is not your horse. you and the horse are strangers to each other. you had a previous horse. the horse had a previous owner. but it's the apocalypse and shit happened, and now you and the horse have each other. as you get to know and trust each other, you adapt to each other, are willing to do more, and improve skills you already have.

but you can choose how you treat the horse. you can camp at designated milestones and take care of the horse, or you can choose not to. you can be kind to the horse during gameplay, or you can choose not to. if you bond with the horse and treat it well, or if you treat the horse like an automaton that's just to get you from point a to point b, that will impact the game.

for instance, certain skills aren't available without a certain level of trust; the horse will refuse to do them. if you dismount and wander off on foot, a horse that doesn't like you will eventually start to wander off on its own, so you'll need to track it down again. a horse that doesn't trust you will spook more easily and be slower to calm, so getting through the Designated Apocalypse Zones unnoticed is much more difficult. if you decide not to use designated camps for too long, eventually the horse can't go on any farther and you're forced to just camp where you are, without a proper camping set up and no effective way to make sure the area is truly safe, so once morning comes you're as exhausted as your horse.

if you camp properly, you're both well rested. if you and the horse trust each other, the horse is willing to do weirder shit without balking. if the horse trusts you, it's calmer and more cooperative in Designated Apocalypse Zones, so getting through without being noticed is easier. if the horse likes you and you dismount to check something out on foot, then the horse will be waiting more or less where you left it when you come back or will come to you when you whistle.

I don't know what the actual STORY is, but at the end of the game, there's a good end for a courier and horse that have a strong bond, a bad end for a courier that the horse can't fucking stand, and maybe a neutral end where you're basically polite coworkers with the horse.

basically I want a horse game where the minutiae of strides and leading legs and how you're holding the reins are whatever, but you are incapable of forgetting that the horse is, in fact, a living, breathing character that can't be replaced with countless reskinned clones.

[allisoooon]

Viktor and Allison’s s3 relationship road map

Sooooooo much of the discourse around Viktor and Allison this season has been blaming one or the other for how things fell apart between them.  It’s more complicated than that.  Viktor and Allison this season were a microcosm of this fucked-up family dynamic we’ve been following all along.

1. Allison improvises a lie that they have Marcus when they don’t.  It was done without thinking it through or discussing it beforehand.  This tells Viktor that Allison is a bit erratic right now, and I can see him wanting to involve her less because she is clearly overwhelmed.

2. Allison is verbally aggressive against the Sparrows at the end of 3.03.  Same effect as #1.

3. Allison goes to Viktor after torturing Sloane, smashing a mirror, and impulsively chopping off her own hair.  She badly needs to talk to her best friend and vent what’s in her head, but Viktor prioritizes Harlan and the needed conversation never takes place. CROSSROADS: Here, I very much understand where Viktor is coming from, but this is one of those places where a lot could have been done to prevent further deterioration of Allison’s state of mind and her relationship with Viktor.  Allison should have sought out someone else, but who?  Five and Lila have disappeared, Klaus is babysitting, Luther is busy guarding Sloane, and Diego is there for her, but in a way that makes it worse.  Viktor can’t be damage control to both Harlan and Allison immediately, but I think his reason for choosing Harlan is that he’s familiar with how to calm him down, since not everyone knows how to handle autistic sensory overload and their specific powers.  However, he needed to recognize immediately that Allison took “later” as a rejection, that Allison is deeply desperate and her saying “not okay” is a big cry for help, and ask her to wait somewhere specific and promise to be there right after this—and then follow up.  Viktor’s biggest mistake here is that he does not follow up.

4. With Harlan as their only leverage, Viktor independently decides to help him escape.  Allison volunteers to help, taking Harlan somewhere safe, because “You would do it for me, wouldn’t you?”  This is a lot of trust for Allison to put in Viktor, but Viktor does not actually have a plan to make peace with the Sparrows after this.

5. While taking Harlan’s powers, Allison becomes terrified Viktor is being harmed.  She tells Viktor he can trust her with what’s going on.  Viktor suggests she leave instead.

CROSSROADS: If Viktor had told her the truth now, or better yet, earlier, Allison would probably have had a milder reaction. Compounding the revelation with the slap in the face of Viktor never trusting her made things that much worse. But also, Viktor really needed to talk to the family about this proposed solution because, for all they know, depowering Harlan could be a compromise the Sparrows would accept, so long as they could verify with their own eyes that it happened.  As it stands, Viktor had no plan to make peace with the Sparrows and save the world other than “I’ll figure something out.”  That’s a huge fucking problem.

6. Harlan confesses.  Allison realizes Viktor has been hiding something vital while risking all of existence to save one person.  This, after Allison put a lot of trust in him when she took Harlan somewhere safe.  At this point, Viktor loses the ability to de-escalate anything.

7. Allison kills Harlan, knowing this would forever put a crack in her bond with Viktor.  

CROSSROADS: She could have simply captured him and turned him over to the Sparrows, but no.  She had to be the one to kill him.  It’s like she was trying to burn that bridge with Viktor.  Obviously, it was something she saw as justice for all the damage Viktor has caused, because she has suffered a great deal more from Viktor’s actions than Viktor ever has.  I also get that there isn’t something morally different from killing Harlan herself as opposed to taking him to the Sparrows so they can kill him, but Viktor will always remember it was Allison who did it.  That can’t be separated now.

8. Viktor and Allison’s fight.  It’s full of cognitive distortions from them both, but especially Allison—and yet, they both have some really good points.  Viktor never had the power to bring Claire back, and Allison is constantly expected to swallow her own pain so she can be there for everyone else while Viktor gets treated with kid gloves, protected from the consequences of his actions (something Allison herself has been, perhaps, the most guilty of).  Viktor slides into a victim mentality.  Allison uses the basement in a verbal attack, something she knew would hurt him, and chokes him with a Rumor.  It’s an ugly fight, but it’s a culmination of everything that came before.

9. After a little wallowing, Viktor climbs out of the victim mentality and starts living what’s left of his life.  He tries to make up with Allison as a favor to Luther. She is not ready to forgive and rebuffs him cruelly.

10. Allison makes up with Viktor, seemingly as a ploy to get him to vote in favor of, you know, saving billions of lives, including their own.  Viktor promises her his vote.

11. Viktor votes against the plan anyway.

12. The misunderstanding of Allison’s involvement in Luther and Klaus’ deaths puts things at their most fragile point, but Allison tells the truth in the face of death: that she needs Viktor to forget literally everything that happened in the last few days and trust her.  This gets them on the same page at last—not because Viktor trusts her, but because she is being honest.

CROSSROADS: Finally, one of them does something that makes a difference in a positive way.  Between Allison learning the truth from Harlan and now, she was in no state to hear anything Viktor said with an open mind.  She really had to be given time, and probably face death at Viktor’s side.

13. Viktor nearly uses his powers to stop Allison from pressing the button. Allison asks him to trust her.  In a moment that defies logic in the most beautiful way, Viktor powers down and trusts her blindly.  Allison gives him a grateful smile, then presses the button.

CROSSROADS: Viktor trusts Allison here the way Allison trusted him when she took Harlan somewhere safe.  Allison is going to remember this.

With trauma, some people react by imploding (like Klaus and Luther), some by exploding.  Allison and Viktor are exploders, so it gets extra ugly between them.  And Allison has essentially been Viktor’s enabler this entire time, so that made it worse.  In a lot of ways, Allison resent Viktor for things that were her own fault—that he never faced true consequences of his actions—and that’s totally believable to me as a codependent.

[leocancertaurus]

Worth It

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

wc: ~2k

an: i would consider this more of a side shot to best worst decision rather than part 3 but it's fun so enjoy :)

pt. 1 | pt. 2

summary: Melina talks some sense into Natasha.

Yelena wanted to celebrate getting her driver’s license. She always got so excited over the “little things” because she never got to celebrate them growing up. In true Yelena fashion, she threw a small party to celebrate the right way.

It’d been longer than the two of you normally went without seeing each other. Because of this, you were the first person she invited. The happenings of your and Natasha’s divorce had been extremely hard on Yelena. Some days it feels like she’s taking it harder than the children. When she found out, she sobbed into your chest for a half hour at the prospect of not having you in her life anymore. You were the second big sister she never had and when it came to sharing her emotions, she trusted you endlessly.

Tonight, she’d wanted her closest family to be with her to celebrate the fact that she’d learned how to drive! So, you found yourself at her apartment with her, your daughters, Natasha, Melina and Alexei. Yelena and the girls sat on the floor playing Candyland while you got stuck conversing with Alexei.

“So, you would agree that Captain America has noodle arms compared to me?” he flexes his arms trying to trap you into admiring his bicep.

“I-”

“Y/n! Your children are big fat cheaters!” Yelena interrupts the delusion. You sigh thanking your lucky stars for her saving you.

“Getting beat by children that can’t even read yet? Thats tough, Belova,” Natasha cuts in.

“I CAN read Mama!”, Zara defends. “Auntie Lena’s shirt says, “loser”, the child beams.

“It does not!” Yelena gasps. You throw your head back releasing a boisterous laugh. Your five year old looks at you feeling triumphant. You lean forward offering a high five and she excitedly slaps your hand.

“Natasha, can you come help me in the kitchen please?” Melina’s voice cuts in effectively calming everyone down like only she knew how. Natasha rises off of the plush chair adjacent to the couch you’re on. You get a strong whiff of coconut as she passes. You bite your bottom lip as you steal a good look at her perfect ass. You clench your fists at your sides to keep yourself from jumping out ot grab it.

Natasha enters the kitchen finding Melina standing over the stove. “What can I help with?”

“Do you mind chopping those peppers for me, darling?” Natasha nods and starts cutting and they work in tandem in silence except for the noise from their rowdy family in the living room. Natasha is yanked out of her rhythm by a slap to the back of her head. She immediately places a hand on the throbbing spot.

“Um…. what was that for?” she asks very slowly, furrowing her brow at her mother.

“Sorry. I just needed to get that out.” Melina crosses her arms over her chest.

“Why?!”

“Because you’re very stupid and I know I taught you better than that,” Melina blurts out. “So, I needed to make sure that I slapped you at least one good time.”

“Ok, you’re gonna have to give me some context clues here.”

“Those three in there.”

“You mean my divorce” Natasha sighs. She couldn’t go one day without someone reminding her.

“You’re not divorced yet!”

“Well, we’re getting there. Y/n doesn’t want anything to do with me anymore and I don’t blame her. Let’s just call a spade a spade,” he picks the knife up again and continues chopping.

“Since when are you a quitter?”

“Since I was served divorce papers… like real ones.”

“Has legal documentation stopped you from doing anything you didn’t want to do?”

“I mean… no.”

“Well?”

“Well what?” Natasha snaps. She’d hoped to go one night behaving as a normal family. Which was seemingly impossible these days.

“What’s the real reason you’re giving up on your family Natasha?”

Natasha points her finger in her face, “I’m not giving up on my family. I’m simply respecting Y/n’s wishes.”

“Oh Y/n is ready for baby #3 with the looks she’s been giving you!”

“Maybe you’ve mistaken what pure hatred looks like.”

“You’re so dramatic! So, you don’t want your family back?”

“Of course I want my family back.”

“Then why are you so comfortable running?”

Natasha halts her chopping and searches for an answer, “Becuase I don’t deserve them.”

“Natasha.”

“No, I don’t. Not only am I a monster that is fully capable of screwing those kids up. But, I had the perfect little life on a silver platter and I threw it all away. I had my chance time and time again and I blew it. Whatever this is that I feel, I promise you that I deserve it.”

“What is it that you feel, hm?” Somehow, Melina was the first person to have asked Natasha how she’s feeling.

“Disappointed? Sad? I just miss them, I guess.” Her voice is weak and slightly unsteady. She clears her throat hoping Melina missed it, even though she knows she didn’t.

“You know what they say, absence makes the heart grow harder,” she places her hands on Natasha’s shoulders, gently rubbing them.

“I don’t think–”

“Don’t interrupt me while I’m speaking. My point is that obviously this separation has helped you come to your senses. So, get your family back.”

“I don’t think it’s that easy.

“Why isn’t it? You love them, no?”

“Yes.”

“You would kill for them, no?”

“In a heartbeat.”

“Those are really the only two things you need, Natasha. I’m not understanding?”

Natasha turns to face her mother figure. She tilts her head to the side and slightly looks off to the side, trying to put the ill fitting pieces together.

“Just give it a shot,” Melina says gently swatting Natasha’s arm. “And if you hurt my sweet Y/n again. I will feed you to Alexei and you know exactly which one I’m talking about.”

Yelena comes into the kitchen for a glass of water sensing the tension. Her wide smile quickly drops.

“Whoa who died?” Yelena demands.

“Just trying to talk some sense into your big stupid sister here.”

“She’s very stupid, I agree. What’d she do now?” The blonde swipes a chunk of the peppers that Natasha had been chopping, tossing it into her mouth.

“She’s pretty much decided on letting her very beautiful wife and precious children go.” Yelena gasps and slaps Natasha in the back of the head.

“I swear the next person who slaps me is losing a hand,” she aims the point of the large knife in Yelena’s face.

“I’m sorry but, you have easily become my second favorite sister. I never thought I’d see the day.”

You quickly enter the kitchen with a frown on your face. As soon as the three women’s eyes land on you, their expressions soften. “You guys. What have I told you about leaving me alone with Alexei. It’s really hard being the only one that doesn’t have the balls to be honest with him. I just told him that he looks younger than Steve…. Which is obviously a lie and Steve is like 200.”

Yelena and Melina laugh at your rant. Melina pats you on your shoulder, “Honey, can you help Natasha finish dinner, please? I’ll go knock him down a peg just for you,” she kisses the side of your head and waves for Yelena to follow her back into the living room. Yelena gives Natasha a stern glare and swiftly exits.

You approach Natasha asking, “What can I do?”

“Uh, can you stir that?” She points to the simmering pot on the stove.

“Yeah, of course.”

“I’m sorry you got stuck with him. I think we need to ban him from saying the words Captain and America”, Natasha smirks.

“It’s okay. Just don’t let it happen again. I’ve paid my dues for the next decade,” you shake your head.

Nat freezes thinking about the prospect of the next ten years. Would the two of you be back together in that time? How would you kids feel about her for tearing your family apart? Would she have stepped back from the Avengers? Would you be married to someone else? These thoughts combined made Natasha’s grip the edge of the counter so hard that her knuckles turned white. You turn from stirring the stew and lean your back on the edge of the counter that Natasha’s standing at and you immediately notice her demeanor.

“Hey, you ok?” You place a gentle hand on her shoulder making her flinch.

She meets your gaze with tears in her eyes and bounds forward throwing herself into your arms, burying her face in your neck. You freeze at the unexpected embrace but once you feel her shaky breaths you gently wrap one arm around her, not wanting to squeeze too tight and you place your other hand at the back of her head, gently caressing her soft locks. She hasn’t been this close to you in a very long time. You’re not sure who’s heart is racing faster. “Hey, what’s the matter” you speak loud enough for just her to hear.

“I just really needed a hug.”

“That all?” you feel the movement of her shaking her head. “What else do you need baby?”

“I just need to feel you. I need to know that you don’t hate me even though I feel like you should.”

You hum, taking in exactly what she’s getting at and you mull over your next words before verbalizing them, “I could never hate you. Why should I?”

“I broke my promises to you. Including the one when I said I wouldn’t.”

“Yeah you did. I’m angry at you for that but, I don’t hate you. I don’t think I’m meant to hate you.” At that you feel the hot tears, that she’d been intently guarding, finally spill onto your shoulder.

“I deserve for you to.”

“You don’t.”

“I do!”

“Natasha. Stop it. You were my best friend long before you were anything more to me and I’ll love you until the day I die. That love may change. We’ve seen that happen already. I don’t know what our love will become but, it’s definitely not going anywhere,” she squeezes you impossibly tighter. “I need you to get that through your thick skull okay?” You lightly knock on the side of her head, earning a teary chuckle.

“I love you so much Y/n/n. It scares me sometimes.” She raises her head off of you shoulder and she allows you to wipe her tears. She looks down releasing a thoughtful sigh, “I really want our family back. Whether or not I deserve that is debateable, I guess. But, this life isn’t worth living without my girls,” she takes another deep breath, working overtime to control her emotions. “I don’t expect you to have an answer right now or to make any promises but, I just want you to know that at least.”

You rest your forehead against hers and mindlessly caress her back while she’s still in your arms, “Thank you for telling me that. It is a lot to think about. Maybe we should have a more extensive conversation later? Once we’ve properly celebrated Yelena.”

She finally meets your eyes and you reassure her with a soft smile, “God, she really shouldn’t have been given a license,” Natasha groans.

“Absolutely not,” you laugh.

“You two better not burn that food!”, Melina yells from the living room causing the two of you to jump apart, just barely saving dinner.

Whatever happens between you and Natasha next will be incredibly taxing without a doubt but, Natasha would always be worth it. The possibilities were endless when it came to her.

[fernweh-writes]

You could ask my question, if possible, of course. With the Slachers (Michael, Jason, Brahms, Vincent and Bo) with her beloved looking innocent and even angelic, but she is extremely jealous and possessive when a victim or survivor flirts with her slachers to the point of saying something in context: " he is mine !!" (while the reader embraces Slachers). What would be the reaction of the slachers, about the corpotamento of his beloved?

I don’t write for Jason, sorry but I can definitely do the rest. Since I don’t write for many slashers, with requests like this one I usually do a little snippet for all of the slashers I do write for. But I like this idea a lot so without further ado…

P.S. this took me so much longer than I expected, I definitely got a little invested in these lol. I left out Thomas and Jesse but I may go back and add them at a later time idk yet.

-Fern🌿

Slashers x Possessive S/O

Michael Meyers

Your innocent and kind nature would be one of the things that made Michael interested in you. You were the first person to take the time to actually figure him out rather than checking him off as Evil™️ and treating him as such. He also likes the fact that he can easily make you flustered, it feeds his need for control. Knowing that he can simply press himself against you and leave you blushing both pleases and amuses him.

We all know that Michael is very possessive. He often stalks you while you’re at work or out in town running errands. At this point, it’s no longer because he feels the need to be predatory, he’s just making sure that what’s his is safe from any harm.

One night you had decided to go out with a few friends, which Michael wasn’t very excited about, but eventually he allowed it. It was one of those busy clubs/bars that had opened recently, so of course the place was crowded. This left Michael with no choice but to ditch the mask while he followed you, another thing he wasn’t happy about.

He ended up sitting on the other side of the place by himself with his eyes glued to you. He didn’t like you being around so many people. Michael was so focused on watching you that he had barely even noticed the woman walk up and make herself cozy in the seat opposite of him. Now his attention was on her while she grinned at him like the Cheshire Cat, pushing her cleavage together to make it more apparent in her already low cut dress.

Michael could’ve sworn that you had teleported, after all he had only take his eyes off of you for a second. Now you had your arms wrapped around him with your head resting on his neck. “Can we help you,” you asked the girl in front of you. Michael had never heard your voice sound so cold.

The girl began to twirl her hair, not deterred by the fact that you were running your hands over Michael. “I was just wondering what such a handsome man was doing here all by himself,” she purred. She attempted to reach forward and grab his hand but you were quick to smack it away before Michael could even move.

“He’s not here by himself he’s with me. And if I were you I would keep your hands to yourself and away from what’s mine.” After you said that it didn’t take long for Michael to drag you back home. To him it was your way of saying that you were in fact a permanent part of Michaels life. Plus you threatening someone when you’re usually so polite was a change of pace that left Michael wanting. You can definitely expect the girl to turn up missing on the news soon after that night as well.

Brahms Heelshire

Brahms adored your innocence and kindness. You never hesitated to follow the rules and care for him, which is why he kept you around. After all he needs a nanny that is actually going to take care of him. Brahms also had an easy time revealing himself to you since after the initial shock of it all you were delighted to find out you weren’t being haunted and that you weren’t in a huge countryside mansion all by yourself.

Seeing as Brahms is a major introvert and goes absolutely feral if there’s someone new in his house that he hasn’t allowed you usually have nothing to worry about. However, suppose something happens where Malcolm has to leave for a few weeks, meaning that a new girl is assigned to deliver the groceries until Malcolm returns.

You were in the kitchen chopping up ingredients for lunch when she arrived for the first time. You had to admit that she was pretty, she was tall and athletic looking with perfect curls. It was hard for you to not notice that she was blonde, Brahms had a thing for blondes…

“So Malcolm told me that Brahms isn’t dead or a ghost, is that right?” You didn’t like the fact Malcolm had told this random girl about Brahms but you muttered in agreement anyways. She helped you put up the rest of the groceries in silence, not speaking again until she had opened the door to leave. “So is he hot? Usually people with this much money that aren’t old are always hot. If he is I might just have to stick around for a little while longer.”

That struck a nerve. “He’s not available,” you said sharply and she faltered. “What do you mean?” It was easy to tell she hadn’t expected that kind of answer, much less the attitude you had suddenly adopted. “He isn’t single. So although he is hot, trust me, I would know, you can’t have him. He’s mine.” She quickly apologized and left, slamming the door shut behind her. You could also hear Brahms moving around in the walls nearby, letting you know he must have heard everything.

Shortly after you found Brahms wrapped around you while you finished making lunch. “So now I’m yours hmm?” You could hear the amusement in his voice. You turned and wrapped your arms around him, pulling him in for a kiss, one hand finding it’s way into his hair. After pulling away you told him, “You’ve always been mine Brahmsy. My good boy.” He let out a small whine at your praise, pulling you back in for another kiss.

Vincent Sinclair

You were Vincent’s muse. He absolutely adored you from the way you acted to the way you looked. To him there was no aspect of you that wasn’t perfect. In other words he was absolutely obsessed with you. After all, you did take care of him and even helped Bo keep Ambrose up and running.

It’s no secret that Vincent was shy, but he was definitely intimidating as well. So you knew that the girl in front of him that was doing a terrible job of flirting was only doing so in a poor attempt to make it out alive. Still, watching her twirl her hair and smile at him made something inside of you snap.

“Come on handsome, you got to want some kind of company. I’m sure you’re so lonely here all by yourself… I could help with that.” She attempted to touch his chest but you grabbed her before she could. “Sorry,” you told her as you held both of her arms behind her back, “he already has someone keeping his bed warm. Didn’t your mother ever to tell you not to touch things that belong to other people?”

Vincent made quick work of knocking the girl out and carrying her down to the workshop. However, after dwelling on the thought he decided to just let Lester dispose of her body. He didn’t want to make you angry by turning her into a permanent wax figure for the town. Doesn’t mean that he won’t allow her to regain consciousness before killing her though, after all she needs to know her place.

Later on Vincent will make sure you never forget that he is yours the same way that you’re his. You can probably expect to have some trouble moving around the next day as well.

Bo Sinclair

Everyone knows that Bo is a major flirt. He enjoys watching the girls throw themselves at him, he just blames it on his “southern charm.” Although, he usually keeps you safely tucked up into the house whenever victims stumble into town. After all, “I can’t have my sweet angel in harms way now, can I?”

You never dwelled on how Bo dealt with victims, that was his business. Sure he had flirted with you a lot when you first showed up. Even now he was heavy on flirting and making inappropriate comments all the time. It was one of the things that made him Bo after all. So walking into his shop unaware of the newest batch of victims in town was a shock for you. Well not so much the victim part, it was finding Bo flirting with the girl leaning over the counter to display her cleavage that pissed you off.

She was smiling and blushing like she had a high school crush on the man in front of her. Not to mention Bo was unashamedly staring at everything she was flaunting. So yeah you were pissed, especially since he didn’t even seem to notice you were there. You quickly remembered the lunch you were holding in your hand, your reason for coming down here, and decided to use it to your advantage.

Instead of saying anything you just walked up behind him, setting his lunch on the counter right in front of the girl, effectively blocking his view of her boobs before wrapping your arms around him. Bo still didn’t shut up and acknowledge you so you decided to interrupt. “I brought you lunch baby.” The use of a pet name quickly made the girl Bo was flirting with falter.

“Oh, uhm, is this your girlfriend or something?” Before Bo could jump in you answered her. “Or something, I guess you could say. After all, he is my husband.” You looked up at Bo with the most lovesick expression you could put on your face as you pulled him in for a kiss. One kiss turned to two, to three, to a whole make out session in front of the poor girl. Bo’s hands began to roam around your body as well, making sure to squeeze all of his favorite parts of you.

When the two of you broke apart the girl was gone but Bo didn’t seem to notice. He was still to busy feeling you up. “Have I ever told you how fuckin’ sexy you are when you’re jealous? I’d never have guessed you had a possessive side to you angel.” You smiled knowing you now had his full attention, “Well surprise.”

He kissed you one more time, long and hard. “I promise we’ll continue this later up at the house. But right now I gotta go find that bitch n’ kill ‘er. You better be waitin’ on me when I get home darlin’.”

Billy Loomis

Billy was highly sought after by many girls due to his bad boy reputation. He always had girls throwing themselves at him wanting to be the one to fix him. You knew you didn’t have to worry, Billy wouldn’t leave you for someone else. He made it very clear that you were permanent. But still you couldn’t help but be irritated when they would flirt with him right in front of you.

You two were planning a movie night which meant a trip down to the video store. Apparently, Randy had the night off because some new girl was behind the counter. When the two of you first arrived she had been reading a magazine, not caring about the handful of people milling about. That was until she noticed Billy, not seeming to care that you were wrapped around his arm. She was watching him like a hawk.

You shifted uncomfortably, not liking the way she was staring down your boyfriend. Billy was observant and quickly noticed your discomfort. “Don’t worry about her babe, you know you’re the only person I’m into.” He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you into him, “Now, do you want to watch Friday the 13th or Nightmare on Elm Street?” You groaned, “Billy we’ve seen both of those movies a million times.” He smiled and held up Nightmare on Elm Street, “Well now we can watch this one and make it one million and one times.”

You rolled your eyes as he drug you to the checkout counter. The employee quickly perked up when she noticed Billy. “Will this be all for you hun?” She asked completely ignoring you. She didn’t even look down at what movie Billy had set on the counter before saying, “You have good taste, this is like one of my favorite movies ever. It’s a shame your little girlfriend doesn’t seem to like it though.”

“Cool, so who’s the main character?” You knew exactly what Billy was trying to do, elbowing him lightly. “Oh, uhm,” she finally looked down at the case, eyes lighting up, “oh, yeah it’s that really scarred dude!” Billy rolled his eyes, “No shit, what’s his name though.” You decided to have pity on the girl, “Ignore him, he’s a horror movie fanatic.” The girl mumbled, “Yeah no kidding.”

You smiled at Billy, using this as your chance to brag on the fact he’s yours. You knew him like no one else did. “He’s such a dork when it comes to the cinematography of these things but he’s my dork.” Billy hugged you from behind, “Yeah, whatever, you know you love me.”

Stu Macher

Stu absolutely loved throwing huge parties at his house. He was well liked and well known so it wasn’t unusual for a lot of people to show up, many of which you didn’t even know. Because so many people knew Stu, it also meant that they knew his family was pretty wealthy. It was pretty common to find girls hitting on him and since Stu loved attention he was prone to playfully flirting back.

Usually you would hang out with your friends during these parties, not being big on socializing with new people. Most of the time you didn’t worry about Stu wandering off, he would always show up at your side again at some point. Half the time when he would reappear you would have to pry him back off of you. He could be quite handsy at times.

Now the party was winding down and mostly everyone left was on the couch getting ready to watch a movie. You excused yourself, and headed to the kitchen to get another drink. You froze when you saw a girl running her hands all over Stu, he wasn’t making any move to push her away. You decided to help him out with that.

“Do you need something,” you asked her as Stu wrapped himself around you. “Are you his girlfriend?” Stu laughed, hopping up onto the counter. He pulled you up onto his lap, “Yeah she is dude. Isn’t she hot?” The girl scoffed, “Don’t you think that she’s a little… beneath you, Stu?”

That set you off. “I think that slutty little bitches like you need to keep your dirty hands away from what’s mine.” The girl rolled her eyes before storming out of the kitchen. You hopped out of Stu’s lap and turned to face him. “If you let mother whore rub all up on you like that again so help me I will be the next one to commit a murder in this house. Understand?” Stu stopped smiling, his goofy personality faltering for a second. He then saluted, “Yes ma’am.” You nodded. “Good.”

Stu jumped down and threw you over his shoulder, causing you to yelp. “You look extra hot when you’re fighting over me babe.” He quickly climbed the stairs and you pounded against his back. “You’re going the wrong way, the movie is downstairs.” He made it quickly to the bedroom, throwing you down on the king size bed with a huge grin. “We can make our own movie babe. I don’t know about you but I’m thinking romance,” he rambled, crawling on top of you. “Rated R of course.”