#and so so so many people just ate up exactly what they were served

[cielosuerte]

one of the most annoying outcomes/wins we've handed techbros about AI is buying in to letting them talk about technology that has existed & been stagnant for 10+ years like they just invented it in their sleep last night.

[fictionismyreality3]

Can we have a smut of stalker Jason with somnophilia and crazy to eat pussy? Plsss

I mean, Jason is a natural fucking pussy eater.

AND I'M HAPPY TO HAVE PLACED YOUR FIRST RESQUET!!

Can I be the 💦 anon? To u know that is me

Too Much to Take (18+)

Jason Todd x Reader

Tags: Smut, stalker!jason todd, possessive!jason todd

Warnings: romance and everything that comes with it, somnophilia, stalking, dubcon, guns, drugs, little to no aftercare.

Notes: hi babes!! I’m so so sorry this took so long, a bear ate my phone. My beautiful 💦 your request is much appreciated. I know it’s unrealistic that the reader never wakes up but I have nevER EVER BEEN HAPPIER.

The cool, night breeze of Bludhaven blew the white chiffon curtains your mother had gotten you in the wind. Across from your bed sat a gorgeous, kingly armchair where you loved to sit and read. Your apartment was carefully decorated by your artful hands, each piece put perfectly in its place. When you got home everyday, you knew you would be returning to a safe, cozy home full of memories and comfort items. Everything was just how it should be.

That’s why the man standing in your apartment was so out of place.

You were asleep, of course. Knocked out after a long day running errands. Your bed had welcomed you warmly, and you couldn’t resist cracking open your window just a little bit, wanting to savour the start of spring.

You knew the automatic danger that came with living in Bludhaven, but you’d saved up enough to move to a nicer area, and your apartment was on the 8th floor of your building. Surely, nobody would bother risking the fall.

Surely.

It had been three days since Jason had first saw you. Three days too long since he’d seen you in person. He’d watched you nearly every minute of the last 72 hours, consuming every ounce of information he could find about you and your life.

His shift watching over Bludhaven ended tomorrow, when Dick would be returning from wherever he went. So, he only had around a day left of viable excuse to be near you. After that, finding a reason to be in Bludhaven even longer would be his main priority. It was clear that he’d already be wherever you were. The thought of not being able to reach you was enough to shatter what little was left of his soul.

No, no, there was no going back now.

And so, Jason found himself perched on the rooftop across from your building, the endless Bludhaven rain pelting across his broad shoulders.

He spent the first few moments watching you carry out your night routine. It was all things many people in Bludhaven overlooked, or dropped as soon as their lives were overtaken by the chaos in the city. Somehow, you’d managed to maintain a semblance of a normal life even while being surrounded by shootings and drug runs.

He stayed still, hovering over your apartment like a cloud of death, his gaze never breaking to stray to anything else but you. He watched you make dinner, he watched you tidy up, he watched you get ready for bed. All of it was as fascinating to him as everything he’d seen when he researched your background.

All the little habits you did. The way you fiddled with the timer on the stove while you waited for the food, the way you danced to your music while you did dishes, the way you preferred an endless heap of pillows on your bed. Every little quirk he watched served to drill your presence deeper into his being. You were exactly what he needed.

So pure.

Innocent enough to leave your bedroom window open in the middle of a crime surge in the only city worse than Gotham.

It gave Jason the perfect opportunity to watch you sleep, and the perfect opportunity to survey your apartment for places to set up cameras. He’d need to make sure that he had every inch of the place covered so he could watch you at all times. The last thing Jason wanted was for some criminal or other creep to breathe the same air as you.

Oh, how cute.

He looked on as you settled into bed, reaching over to your nightstand to pat the head of a tiny giraffe plushy, as if it would stand guard and protect you from all the dangers in the world. You didn’t need a stupid plushie. You had him now.

But what if you needed him and he wasn’t there? What if you left your window open every night and someone with worse intentions was there to take advantage of it? He needed to be there to protect you, to keep away all the dangers and make sure you lived like a princess. It could happen tonight if Jason wasn’t careful. He couldn’t have that.

Wind blew the curtains in your window aside, as if the world was parting the barriers that lay between you. He was just going to make sure that nobody who was less well meaning than him would take a chance to hurt you.

With the speed of years and years of training, Jason hopped from rooftop to rooftop, as quiet as a panther stalking its prey. But Jason wasn’t stalking you. No, he was helping you, making sure you were safe.

Landing on your fire escape balcony without a sound, Jason stood motionless as he peered into your bedroom, his eyes locked on your sleeping form.

You were like an angel in his eyes. Something clean and untouched. Something that he could have all to himself now that he’d found you. Jason wasn’t worried about tainting you with his red-stained hands, no, you were saving him. You had saved him.

He took the time to study your bedroom, burning each item of decor into his mind. There were so many perfect spots to put cameras, and of course, he’d brought some with him just in case. They were small, tech he had ‘borrowed’ from Bruce’s generous stockpile in the safe house he was staying at.

He could have them placed and synced back up with his computer in less than five minutes. It would be so easy he wouldn’t even wake you.

And Jason didn’t want to wake you. It wasn’t just the fact that he felt you looked so peaceful sleeping, something he would hate to disturb, it was that he wasn’t ready.

If you knew who he was, how could he guarantee your safety? Not to mention the fact that you might even try to run from him.

Like hell.

So, Jason found himself pushing the window you’d cracked open further, till he could just slip inside. Landing on the balls of his feet as he’d been trained to do a hundred times before, his presence was barely audible.

Just being in the same room as you felt like he was drunk and more alert than ever all at once. In the back of his mind, a sour voice told him to stop, to let this be the farthest he went and leave before things got out of hand. God forbid Bruce found out. But he pushed those thoughts away as quickly as they came.

Taking his time, he walked slowly around your bedroom, his eyes soaking in everything that was just you. It was impossible to resist purusing your things as he came to your dresser. Trailing his fingers across all the little decorations you had, he closed his eyes, imagining he was touching your skin instead.

He couldn’t resist opening the drawers, and nearly sank to his knees when he saw that the first one he opened was full of your panties and bras. His mask suddenly felt constricting, and he immediately noticed his breaths pick up.

“Jesus Christ.” He huffed out in a sharp breath, his heartbeat pounding in his ears.

Looking back over at you sleeping in the bed, it was like he had the devil on both shoulders. Without thinking long enough to regret it, he reached for the prettiest pair, pocketing it so quickly it may as well had never been there.

Jason let out a heavy sigh, but continued placing cameras in places nobody but him would think to check. He’d have to come back later to do the rest of the apartment.

After just watching you sleep for what felt like far too little time, Jason finally willed himself to turn and leave. Every fibre of his being was screaming in protest. The thought of getting to be this close to you, only to have it ripped away, was almost too much to bear. Still, he made his way back to your window. That’s when he heard it.

The sound of rustling sheets filled Jason’s expertly trained ears and his gaze snapped to the noise instantly as he froze in place, halfway out your window.

Dear god.

Where you had been snuggled cutely in your blankets, you had kicked them off to leave your lower half exposed.

Your gorgeous legs lay splayed across your bed, long and elegant. All of his senses were dialled in on the singular sight of you. His cock thrummed with heat almost instantly, his pants stretched out by his girth as his gazed strayed further.

You were wearing a pair of flimsy sleep shorts and a shirt that was far too big for you and he’d be damned if he said it wasn’t the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.

With an amount of restraint he didn’t think he possessed, Jason bit his tongue, practically salivating at the sight of you. He rested his head against the window frame, halfway out of your apartment, halfway towards making a very bad decision.

He should leave. He should leave and never come back and leave you alone and stop. But he couldn’t.

Fuck it.

Refusing to spend any more time not having you, Jason pulled himself back through your window, prowling towards your bed.

He just stood there for a while like he had already, staring at the delicious curve of your ass and feeling his cock harden in his pants. If he was already going to hell for this then he would take his time savouring his sins.

But he could only hold himself back for so long.

With a quiet groan, Jason crept nearer to your side, pulling away the rest of the blankets as carefully as he could. It wasn’t that important for him to see all of you just yet. Not only was his mind only focused on one thing, but he knew he had all the time in the world to study every part of you. You were his after all.

Now that your lower half was exposed to the cool spring air, there was only one barrier keeping Jason from taking what was holding his entire soul. He prayed you were a heavy sleeper, and lowered himself to his stomach on the bed. Propped up on his elbows, there were only a few inches separating him from the only thing he wanted.

Thank god for sleep shorts.

In the back of his mind, he was already adding buying you something less revealing to his list of things to do, not wanting anyone to see you but him. But that could wait.

Taking off his mask and placing it on the floor beside your bed, he bit his tongue and gently hooked his fingers underneath your sleep shorts, pulling them to the side. All at once the breath left his lungs and he felt like his world was being tipped upside down. You didn’t wear any panties to bed.

Jason had to close his eyes for a moment in order to control his urge to wake you up and ravish you. When he opened them again, they flickered green and he zeroed in on what was making his mouth water.

Your pretty little pussy.

It was a miracle he’d gotten this far to be honest, but you didn’t seem to stir for anything. Thanking whatever force was allowing him this one pleasure, he moved closer to you and began taking what he wanted so desperately.

The moment his mouth met your pussy he nearly came in his pants.

Stopping for a second, he waited for any sign you were awake, his heart pounding in his ears. But you were still silent. Jason took this as his go ahead, but he had no intentions of stopping anyway.

He peppered kisses along your pussy, drunk on the softness of your skin and the taste of you on his lips. Everything in him was bursting with thrill, and he could barely stop himself from rutting against your bed to get some much needed friction. He wasn’t in his mind anymore, the only thing keeping him tethered to the planet was your sweet little cunt.

You began to breathe a little heavier in your sleep, your soft breathing quickly getting deeper. But Jason didn’t stop.

He couldn’t.

Not when you tasted so divine, not when your skin felt like heaven on his tounge. He moved to your clit now, his whole face practically pressed into your pussy. If he was gonna go out between your legs, it was a death he would gladly take.

He sucked on your clit, alternating between swirling his tounge around it in tight little circles and sloppily eating you out. It was getting harder and harder for Jason to control the level of noise he was making. His groans and low, rumbling growls began to fill the room. It was just you. Only you in his mind, his heart, and his soul.

Oh, fuck.

You were making these cute little noises now. Little breathy whimpers and whines were leaving your lips. With each sound that reached his ears, he felt a bit more of his control slipping.

He hadn’t even noticed he was fucking you with two fingers until you began to squirm. All at once he halted all his movement, waiting for his fun to end, but your eyes never opened. This would all just be a really good dream for you. He almost chuckled at the idea.

Certain you’d stay asleep, he buried his face in your pussy, eating you like a man starved. His fingers pumped in and out of your now slick cunt, and his eyes rolled to the back of his head as he tasted your sweetness on his tongue.

But it wasn’t enough. He needed more.

He needed to make you cum. He needed to be the one, the only one, bringing you pleasure. He wanted to feel your cum running down his face. He wanted to taste you on his tongue three days from now.

There was no point trying to contain himself anymore. He’d already jumped off the edge a long time ago. Jason pumped a third finger into you, allowing himself to grind his raging cock against your bed. The noises you were making were getting louder, and you were beginning to writhe in your sheets every time he slammed his fingers into you. He knew he’d have to be quick, but honestly, he didn’t know how much more he could take.

Taking your clit in between his teeth, he grazed the sensitive skin just enough to have you even wetter for him. Jason was desperate. All his cares, all his worries had been replace by an unending, carnal urge for you.

Only you.

He pumped his fingers faster, driving them in and out while he ate you like a man possessed. Then, he got to experience what was easily the best thing that ever happened to him.

Without warning, your needy whimpers turned into one long, high pitched whine, and your sweetness burst into Jason’s mouth. He felt like he died all over again, cumming in his pants as he groaned into your pussy, shuddering. Never once did his fingers stop, only slowing to allow himself to lap up all of your juices.

The world was quiet for a moment as he stayed hooked on your cunt, his eyes closed in bliss.

But he couldn’t stay forever.

With an insane amount of difficulty, Jason placed one more kiss on your clit, and pulled your shorts back in place. His own underwear would be ruined, and he would definitely have to wash his pants, but he couldn't have given less of a shit.

Once he was sure you’d stay asleep, he moved off the bed, coming to stand beside your now flushed face. Jason didn’t know what was worse, having to leave after tasting the best thing ever, or the fact that you’d only remember this as a dream.

Not wanting to think about anything but how full his heart felt, he leaned down and pressed a feather light kiss to your cheek.

“Sweet dreams, baby. You’re mine.” He whispered softly, as if you could hear him, and brushed a lock of your hair behind your ear.

Taking one last glance at your pretty face, he turned and crept his way out of your apartment, leaving the way he came, through the window.

He made sure to close it.

It was clear to Jason that he should be feeling shame, remorse or disgust with himself for what he just did, but the only thing on his mind was how he wanted you awake for next time. And there would be a next time.

When you awoke that morning, and the haze of sleep cleared from your mind, your focus instantly went to the wetness between your thighs. You blushed as vague memories of a rather nice dream sprung to the forefront of your thoughts.

Shaking your head, you crawled out of bed, yawning, when your eyes caught on a slightly confusing sight.

“Didn’t I leave that open?”

[theriverbeyond]

how exactly is John lying (/about what) and is that the worst part of him and how explicit is it in the books? i often dont understand general/fandom characterizations of fictional characters and HtN is definitely not the book I paid the most attention in, so I just wanna see if I missed something wholly obvious

So John is a Lying Liar Who Lies, and I think the most damming evidence for the sheer enormity of it all is this bit in HtN, page 482:

Many of the things John says are like, him reflecting or discussing things only he has memory of, with no one left to dispute his version of events, and it's clear that he has long ago lost the "objective truth" of his own history--some of this is likely the side effect of being alive for ten thousand years, but a lot of it is probably due to the fact that he doesn't want anyone to know what actually happened. HtN p. 158:

John is talking to Harrow here, but to Me, he is also reassuring himself. He KNOWS that people would judge him for his actions, and alters the stories he tells accordingly. Nobody has to know. It happened, and he can't undo it, and they wouldn't understand. He's motivated to lie, he's capable of lying, and he himself has stated that he believes that there is no difference between the truth, and the truth he tells himself. Because he's God.

Anyway. re: "how explicit is it", a lot of the times where we know for sure John is telling an untruth, he isn't directly lying per say, but rather misrepresenting events to such an insidious extent that it is functionally the same as lying. Here is a short and incomplete list:

All the times Harrow begged him to protect her from G1deon the First, and John was like sorry I can't do that, when in fact JOHN was the one who ordered G1deon to attack Harrow

Changing the names of all his friends and not telling them what their previous names or personalities were (and if he didn't tell them that, it's very reasonable he may have kept other things from them as well)

Saying that the House of the First was killed by "rising sea levels" and a "massive nuclear fission chain reaction" when the Earth actually died because John initiated a nuclear standoff, and then set off a nuke. like yeah what he said was technically the truth, but it also served to paint an extremely different picture when compared to what we learn in NtN

In NtN, in the dream, John tells Harrow about the time he killed all those cops, and he mentions that when it happened he was like "I swear to God, I didn't know what I was doing" "I freaked out, it was an accident", "I made a mistake". and then like half a page later he tells Harrow "Come on love. Guys like me don't have accidents"

Saying he ate peanuts "discreetly", and "the once"

"is this the worst part of him" I think that is up to you, I really like the layers this adds to the story. So much of NtN is literally just John telling Harrow/the reader a story, and we know he misrepresents events and tells untruths and is motivated to protect his own image and no longer sees a difference between the truth and the truth he tells himself. So it's like... we are getting all this info about what happened pre-appocalypse/resurrection, but how much of it is REAL? How much of it is reliable? How much of it would match the story if anyone else was alive to tell their side? It is so interesting to me. It's like a hefty peanut butter filled kong, to me.

[paddlescuddlesbubblesgurgles]

so around the start of the summer I ate literally as much as my body could possibly handle every day, every meal. I got in the habit of gorging myself until I could hardly breathe, could not stand or sit or even lay down comfortably, and my belly was aching. I couldn’t even sleep, nor could I really do much of anything but sit there helplessly and gasp or groan at how big I’d gotten, and how full I’d become. This was exactly what I wanted.

I was consuming between 7000-12000 calories a day during this time. This lasted about 2 months or so, maybe 10 weeks. I rarely took a break, and this had…intense consequences on my capacity. I routinely ate things like: entire family sized dinner portions for each component(vegetables, starches, meats). Family sized fast food meal deals(usually about 5 combos worth). 7-8 combos from various fast food places(usually their entire menu). Party sized or tailgater tray offerings from restaurants(usually enough for 10-15 people).

I cannot become full now. No matter what I do, if I’m not eating literally family sized portions, I’m not filled. I can become comfortably satiated after 3-4 meals at once, but my belly constantly yearns for more.

I finally have started experiencing some of the crazy ‘feedism fantasy’ tropes I thought weren’t real (or at least greatly exaggerated due to ya know…writing lol). Things like

I literally can get hunger pangs WHILE MY STOMACH HAS A REASONABLE AMOUNT OF FOOD INSIDE. I’m talking I’ve already eaten a heavy plate that is literally 3-4lbs of food. Gone. Inside me. But my belly has the NERVE to growl around it and demand more food.

Sometimes I become anxious when the only amount of food available to me is a normal serving size (this is honestly the hottest. I’m talking whiny, worried, needy feelings because I only got enough food for 1 person.)

i crave eating 24/7, or for long periods. I catch myself daydreaming about sitting down with enough food for a large gathering, and stuffing it all inside myself for literal hours. I’m not kidding, I want to eat for 6-8 hours straight of almost nonstop consumption. I just want to sit down, lean back with my gut supported by my lap or my couch, and stuff it so completely full. I would prefer if my primary activity for the day was eating.

hunger and arousal are now so completely linked I almost cannot experience one without the other…which means I’m hungry and horny pretty much unceasingly. Constantly my mind goes back to sex and eating. I’m literally just daydreaming in the background about when I will get to open my mouth next.

I’ve now eaten many of the feeding fantasy portions. Family meals, party trays, entire cakes, multiple entire pizzas, entire trays of baked goods, entire boxes of cakes, a box of donuts, entire pies, and generally levels of excess that I can only describe as obscene.

This has caused me to really fatten up. I gained 40 or so lbs from the end of March to the middle of July. I also happened to do this without an encouraging, physical, coercive or forceful feeder, which means if I were to have these (what I desperately crave), I imagine I would reach new capacity heights. I primarily eat for fullness. I love that food drunk fullness feeling where my entire body stops functioning properly. I love feeling like all I can literally do is let my belly do its thing and process all the food I gave it. I’m desperate for it. I constantly crave it. The weight gain is an unintentional but welcomed side effect of my incessant gorging.

I cannot wait for my next opportunity. I have so many ideas. Will I finally try 3 pizzas? Will I try to eat more foot longs than I am tall? Will I make myself an entire family banquet and then greedily try and eat it myself? I need to do it soon. I can’t keep eating enough for 6-7 people each day…I need more, and I need it all at once.

[giuseppe-yuki]

when the clock strikes 12'

baker!yuki tsunoda x princess!reader

w.c.: 2.9k

warnings: a sprinkle of fluff, slight allusions to sex, curse words, angst, mentions of death

summary: every night, you flee to the baker's son to receive the love you never got from your own family.

picture credits from pinterest :)

every day was unchanging. wake up at six am, breakfast of exactly one apple and a cup of oatmeal with a sprinkle of cinnamon, then onto history, etiquette, dancing class, horse-riding, brief pause for lunch, embroidery, languages, government, military tactics, dinner, then finally music. as the next brightest queen on the throne, you had to be perfect. you couldn’t be your little brother, running carefree in the woods, playing with wooden bows and arrows, or your younger sister, who spent all her hours gossiping and playing cards with the ladies of the court. trapped in a gilded cage, you had no choice but to endure all the classes your parents put you through and to your credit, you seemed to be the best daughter and heiress they could ever ask for. 

however, when the clock hit 12, you would routinely slip on your black cloak, pull the torch lever in the corner of your room, and flee down the steps out of the palace. the second your foot touched the soil on the other side of the towering stone walls, you could shed your disguise of being the powerful, multi talented crown princess of your kingdom. when you flew through the beaten path in the woods, cloak flapping behind you, and past the empty cobblestone courtyard, feet echoing quietly on each brick, and up the leafy vines, hands easily grasping the familiar branches, and into the arms of the boy you loved the most, you finally felt at home. 

he would unclasp your black cloak, fold it neatly, and place it softly on the singular wooden chair next to his bed. then, like always, he would flourish a covered plate towards you, pretending he was a fancy chef in the castle, serving you the finest food in the kingdom- dishes that average village people could only dream about. you knew, of course, that underneath the piece of tattered cloth, there sat two slices of warm bread, topped with your favorite golden honey, and a cup of milk from his family cow in the shed behind the bakery. no matter how many times you scarfed down the handmade bread, it tasted way better than any of the food you had at home. perhaps it had tasted so delectable, because he had made it with his love, something that you never felt in the castle. you would whip off the cloth like you always did, gasp shockingly at the worn, hand-carved dish and its contents in front of you, and pepper the boy with kisses until he was a giggling mess. then, you would each share a slice of bread (he would always purposely slide you the bigger piece when he thought you weren’t looking) and talk about your day together, as if you were just another average couple who were most definitely not a princess and a simple baker’s son. 

he would then tell you about the day’s customers, about the mean old grandpa named mr. horner who would yell at him for ‘lazing around all day,’ or his best friend pierre who always would buy three baguettes, cut up into fourths, or the kind blacksmith’s wife, susie, who would buy loads of pumpernickel for her husband, and sometimes his classmates, like carlos and charles, who would beg him to give them a sliver of cake. you pretended you understood what he meant when he would describe searching for wild potatoes in the forest with his friends, when the day’s bread was sold out. 

in return, you would tell him about your day, like when one of the lord’s sons, ollie, stepped on your white wool socks and ruined them during your dancing lessons, or when your friend dorianne told your french teacher that she ate un mur (a wall) instead of une mûre (a blackberry) for lunch, or how you galloped across the field on your horse faster than max, a duke’s son. he nodded like he knew the feeling of how ridiculous it was when the chef gave you one whole roasted chicken when you had requested a lamb chop and asparagus. 

later, when the soft bread was reduced to crumbs on the wooden plate, and you both had nothing left to say, you would kiss the honey off his lips, and he would laugh and shove you into his wood-and-straw bed. he would then lean over to the singular tallow candle on the patchy floor next to his bed and blow the flame out. underneath the glow of the stars, with the wisp of candle smoke wafting in the air, he would tuck you into his sheets, ‘like a princess deserves,’ and shuffle himself in the slot next to you, one arm around your waist. 

sometimes, you would both fall asleep immediately, one of your soft hands laced in his rough calloused one, your face nuzzled in the crook of where his shoulder meets his neck, breaths syncing together, and blankets swirled around like the hazy night mist outside the window. other times, you would look up at his face, where he looked down at you with lovestruck eyes. your gaze would drift down to his pretty pink lips that seemed to always be slightly chapped and you would forcefully pull him down into a heated kiss. those nights always seemed to end with your sweaty bodies tangled in his linen sheets, with you falling asleep on his naked chest listening to how his racing heart slowed to a soft pitter-patter and him gently caressing the length of your back. 

whichever night it was, you would always be the first one up at exactly five am, smiling at the sight of the baker’s son still sprawled on the bed, a drop of drool running down the corner of his mouth. you would get dressed in your black cloak, leave two gold coins that was worth more than a typical villager’s weekly pay (the baker and his wife never did understand how their son constantly produced such massive sums of money when their business was in a tight spot), and press a chaste kiss to his cheek. he slept soundly, knowing that you would always be back, like you promised, near midnight every night. 

quietly, you snuck out of his window, down the leafy vines, past the empty cobblestone courtyard, though the woods, underneath the stone walls of the castle, and up the stairs into your room, half and hour before your maid was to fetch you for breakfast. by the time the birds outside chirped their tunes and the maid knocked on your gold-embossed door, you would be back in your silk pajamas, underneath your thick hand-weaved cotton blankets and sunken into your soft feathery mattress. she would gently nudge you awake, and you would pretend-yawn, as big as you could, to make it seem like you had the best sleep in the world. and you did, but just not in your bed- it was in the arms of the boy you loved all but a half an hour ago in his bedroom on the second floor of his family’s bakery. 

very rarely did you ever see that boy not under the glow of his tallow candle that threatened to die out way too often, compared to the smooth beeswax candles you had lined throughout the rooms and hallways of your castle. once a month though, the royal family would pay a visit to all the towns in their region of rule. his village would always be the twenty second that you visited, and he would put on a knowing smile when you walked through the woods, down the cobblestone courtyard, and towards the building with the leafy vines on the side in your regal gold and white skirts and petticoats, procession in tow. the rest of the village would be gathered around the cobblestone courtyard as well, each individual working sector presenting a gift of gratitude to you and your family for blessing their town with your presence. your father accepted from the blacksmith a fine-crafted iron sword (which he threw into a box that contained the twenty one other similar swords from past villages), your mother accepted from the dressmaker and carefully stitched dress (that she immediately made plans to be turned into washcloths- the material of the dress was too rough!), your little brother accepted a little toy music box from the sales merchant (he would probably accidentally ‘break’ it on the way to the next village just to see what it looked like on the inside), and your little sister accepted a pair of sparkly gold shoes from the shoemaker (shoes that she would give to her maid, because a princess would never wear something so atrocious as shoes with fake pieces of gold on it!). and to you, the baker’s son would flourish, like he did the night before under your watchful eyes, a weaved basket with a full loaf of soft wheat bread, a pot of honey, and a big jar of cold milk. you would thank him profusely, hand lingering on his a smidgen too long, and softly place the item in your carriage to enjoy later. before you left the village on your horse-drawn buggy, you would glance out the window to see the boy give you a wink and a wave, because he knew, when the moon came out and the clock struck twelve, you would be back in his arms once more with the basket of food, and you both would feast like kings. 

it was like clockwork, through spring, summer, fall and winter, that you journeyed to the village bakery. years passed, and your schedule never changed. you would always be there, a little bit after twelve, with your black cloak and a smile on your face, and he would welcome you with a kiss and honey bread. it was like that until it wasn’t.

your father had gotten suspicious with your actions one winter. his first clue was how you always seemed tired in your lessons- how you dozed off a little bit in history class, how you accidentally pricked your fingers way more than normal in embroidery class, how you would skip dinner more often than not, and then rush through music class as if you were in a hurry to go to bed. his second clue came more by accident, when one of his guards had caught one of the dukes, jos’, son sneaking off from a side exit to meet some random stableboy named charles in a nearby town. your father’s rather aggressive guards had caught them embracing in the shady corner of some cobblestone courtyard. they had nearly beaten charles to death right then and there, but was stopped by max at the last second when he tearfully pleaded to them he would do whatever they wanted him to do, even if that included adhering to his father’s jos’ lifelong wish of turning him into the best equine racer in the kingdom- even if he hated racing. trudging back to the castle with a sobbing max in tow and charles’ broken and feeble body left in the courtyard, they could have sworn they saw a figure in a black cloak that was too high-quality to be a villager’s dart by the leafy vines. his third and final clue was when he ordered the guards to check your room at precisely 1am to make sure you were still snuggled in your bed like you were supposed to be, snoring away.

alas, you weren’t. you were listening cautiously, with wide eyes, as the baker’s son described how a stable boy was found half-beaten to death and frozen in the courtyard a day ago, and all he cried was strings of ‘maxmaxmaxmax’ when the village doctor finally nursed him back into a barely-alive state. that night, when you whimpered the baker’s son’s name into the crook of his neck and he muffled his cries of ecstasy into his pillow, you made sure to hold him just that little bit tighter in the afterglow as if you never wanted to leave. when the sun peeked through the leafy vines at the edge of the window, you gathered your things, and gave the boy a kiss on the lips. this time he awoke, unlike normal, and sat up on the bed. he looked at you with his head cocked to the side and bleary eyes, then laughs when he sees you put not two, but six gold coins on the singular wooden chair next to his bed. he whispers a soft ‘i’ll see you tonight’ and blows you a kiss before collapsing dramatically back on the bed. you can’t help but giggle to yourself and lightly skip all the way back to your room. you fail to notice how the stems of the vines have been hacked slightly, or how the snow on the cobblestone road had one too many sets of footprints, or how the pathway through the forest had deep imprints way bigger than possible to be from your feet in the slushy watery brown sludge, and how the torch-lever-door was slightly ajar when you arrived in your room. 

when you are awaken by the maid, you brightly hop out of your soft bed, unaware of the pitying looks she gives you. 

you attend your history, etiquette, dancing class, horse-riding, scarf down your lunch, embroidery, languages, and government. you are in your military tactics class, learning how wheels could perhaps be attached to open boxes and go on a circular track to gain speed and agility when the son of a baker is dragged rather unceremoniously into the dungeons below. 

he stays mostly silent; he knows that no one will be saving him now. he waits for a bit in the dim holding cell, watching as the beeswax candle smoothly burns on the wick. it’s funny how even the dungeons of the castle was the teeniest bit more fancier than his bedroom in the room above his family’s bakery…oh yeah, the bakery. he just hopes that his family will survive with the gold coins he had piled on the wooden plate that he typically served the princess on. he had shoved the plate under his covers just as the guards came barging up the stairs and dragged him towards the castle, his parents wailing in confusion and despair. his mind can’t help but drift back to your body, laid out so prettily beneath him the late night before. it lingered on his mind when the executioner led him to a dirty, bloodstained, block and forced him to hold his head over it. and when the swoosh of the blade fell down, the last thought in his head was that if you’d miss the bread that he would make, drizzled with honey with a glass of milk on the side. 

when you sneakily tiptoe past the castle walls, through the forest, across the cobblestone courtyard, and up the vines, you expect to see your lover waiting on his wood-and-straw bed next to the tallow candle, a teasing smile on his pretty face and rumpled black hair all messy on his head. there should be the usual wooden plate on his bed, and his singular wooden chair ready for your folded cloak. but what meets you is a wailing couple, a woman that seemed to have the boy’s shade of hair, and nose shape, and the man that seemed to have his eyes and his chin. the candle is broken in half, unburning, a wooden plate overturned with gold coins spilt everywhere, and a singular wooden chair that has its back board splintered in two. 

ten years later, when your father and mother have passed on, leaving you queen regent, and the military generals look up to you for your orders, and when you are forced to be betrothed to a so-called prince who spends all his time in brothels, fucking women who aren’t you, and your talentless brother and sister have wasted away in the castle, only alive to spread gossip and eat your food, you still wonder what had happened the the baker’s son that wintery night a little past midnight. yuki, you remember his name was. a name that means snow- like the snow that was falling around you when you climbed down his window for the last time, never knowing you would never see him again. you hoped that yuki had a good life. maybe he ran away, and got with a some pretty little commoner that didn’t have the same responsibilities you did, someone who could be with him day and night, someone who didn’t have to arrive at midnight and leave at daylight. or maybe he ran away to become a famous cook or baker- you knew he always had that talent within him. maybe he was in a far-away kingdom, cooking up the most delicious meals that were made with love. you remember those honey bread slices and milk that yuki always made you. but when you requested it from the chef, it never tasted the same. she would always give you three slices instead of two, warm milk instead of cold, or drizzled way too much honey on the slices. wherever he was, you hoped that your paths would meet again. maybe then, he could fold your black cloak nice and neat, make you the honey bread exactly how you liked it with cold milk, and you could talk about your day, and you could kiss the honey off of his lips, and he would tuck you into bed, and lay there with you until your breaths synced up once more.

a/n: ummm so idk what happened it kind of just flowed out of me... it's my first attempt at angst though so lmk if y'all like it :)

[shapard]

hihii! I was wondering if I could request a Lucifer x fem!reader, where the reader was a nun in her life and still is kinda one in hell but dedicates herself to lucifer yk what I mean? :3 I’m sorry if this isn’t really in detail!

Demons

Lucifer x Sinner!Nun!femreader

A/n: Heyy! I hope this meets your expectations!

Soft Lucifer, Social awkward Lucifer, Nun reader

Part 1 < Part 2

You hate it here. 

Hell was full of sinners and Demons. The ground is covered in crimson blood. The blood bleeds into your clothes, leaving the white in pure red.

Violence was the only way Sinners communicate. 

You were mad at the Lord themself. You prayed each day and night. Always followed the rules and gave up every rich thing in your life. All to serve the father.

Many people thought you were too young to pursue this path but to you it was a blessing itself. 

One day, the worst and best thing that ever happened to you. You saved a life and you died instead. 

You waited and waited for the light of Jesus and God. So that they can take you in their hands and lift you to paradise. Yet after all you've done, you were falling.

The void of pure darkness ate you and threw you down to the most feared place. Hell.

The compact on thee ground hurt as if you died again. The force knocked you completely out. Luck was on your side and gifted you a home. At home two demons were leaving and let you stay in their old house.

You'll never forget them.

One day you took a walk in a different area, trying to find a loophole anywhere. Just one sign to get to those purely gates. To your dismay, nothing.

Instead of worrying too much you went to a hell’s Library. Reading through every book to get Information about this place. 

The Lore of Lucifer is very Interesting.

The father’s Favorite banished from heaven because of the Forbidden Apple. As you kept reading the more it Fascinated you. 

Why did Lucifer give Eve the Apple? 

How is Heaven? 

The more you found out about the king of hell the more obsessed you got.

Who exactly is Lucifer Morningstar? The Lord you served so long for let you down so easily, but would Lucifer? Too many questions spiraled in your head, it started to pound in pain.

The library was closing soon, so you stuffed the books into your rucksack and left the place in a fast pace. 

The book may not give you the answers you need but Lucifer could. Without wasting any seconds, you wander around the so-called pride ring in Hell. 

It seems there are 7 rings like the 7 sins. One of them being Lucifer. The fun part you learned is that the appearance in hell has something to do with the way you die.

Your appearance resembled a black cat hybrid, you mainly looked humane just with some extras. A pair of cat ears, claws and a tail that swayed behind you.

Finally, after headaches, Mental Breakdowns, and research you got an idea how to get Lucifers attention.

Praying. A very simple yet tiring process. After weeks of preparation you got everything that you needed. Your body shook under fear as you lit up the candles.

You don't feel that confident anymore. Praying to God is something different. They were pure and was the creator of everything. But Lucifer was the pure evil. The complete opposite.

You were in the center of a pentagram that was drawn with your and a goat’s blood. The flames around you were so hot you thought you were in the middle of a fire. 

With a shaky breath you closed your eyes and sat down on your calves. Another deep breath and you began your prayer. 

When you were finished the candles were burned out but nothing besides the wax that coated the floor.

With a sigh you rubbed your hands on your face. The whole procedure was for nothing.

Exhausted you took the candles and threw it in the dustbin. “Was worth a shot.” You said disappointed as you sat on a very old bed. A loud crash sends you out of your little sweet daydream about kittens. You jumped up and grabbed the next object, a Fan.

Curse words echoed through your Livingroom. “Who’s there?” You shouted as you switched the lights on. A short figure with a huge hat came in the view.

“Fuck! eh... Sorry for the mess.” Confused at his words you looked around seeing your Livingroom really a complete mess. Nothing was at its usual place.

The guy watched as your jaw dropped a bit. “What in the name of Jesus did you do?!” He smirked up to you and you raised the fan above your head. “Why do you have a fan in your hand?” He asked pointing with his clawed finger at your fan. “Because of people that break into private homes, like you!” With a snap of his fingers the fan in your hand vanished into small sparkles. 

“Technically I didn’t break into your house.” The stranger said as he swung his cane around. You raised your eyebrow at him, “You obviously did.” What the hell is with those sinners.

He sighs in frustration and leans onto his cane, “Let me re-introduce myself. I’m Lucifer Morningstar. The devil you summoned.” His sharp red eyes focused on your e/c ones and his Pupils dilated a bit. The more you two looked in the eyes the hotter and thicker the tension got. 

“You’re Lucifer.” You fast to break the thick ice. You don’t want to focus about the growing desire for the Archangel in front of you. Lucifer smirk grew only more. You didn’t think this was even possible. “Yes, the one and only.” He winked and a shiver went down your spine.

“of course.” As the sin of pride, he’s doing a great job so far. 

“For what do you need me, darling?” Lucifer asked and you immediately asked him the question that is burning your mind. “I have Question my Lord.” Pink hue glazed Lucifer's face as you said my lord. “Ehm,” He grabbed his collar and pulled it with his claw, “Of course darling… We- I mean I have too much… No, fuck- I have a lot of time reserved for you! Hehehe.” Lucifers sudden overtalking caught you surprised. 

The King of hell, Lucifer Morningstar gets nervous when you call him My Lord. 

“Okay first my most Important question. How do I get in heaven? I don’t know what I have done in my life to end up here.” Lucifer raised sassy his eyebrow giving you a side eye. “Darling. You’re in hell and there is no ticket up. Believe me.” He tapped with his cane on the floor, “There’s no way.” He pressed again. 

But you don’t give up. 

“Then give me a meeting. I can prove that I’m innocent. I was a nun almost my whole life and I died saving someone’s life.” Lucifer’s laugh was ego scratching and you glared at him. “I could get you the meeting sweetheart, yet it wouldn’t change anything. But in exchange you have to do something for me."

“What?” You asked as Lucifer stepped in front of you, his face so close that it’s brushing your face. He breathed in and you smelled so divine. “only time will tell.” And just like that he disappeared. Confused you looked around. 

“That was weird…” 

A/n: I'm ALIVE!! Anyways Part 2 will be out soon<3

💫

@i-have-no-life-charlie @sirenetheblogger @concentratedconcrete @ylovei @cimadreamer @ayanazoldyck @froggybich

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[spoopyblues214]

Salveō! Would you be willing to take a writing request for a rise!Donnie x reader? (platonic pls!)

the storyline could be something along the lines of the reader eating one of Mikey’s food at dinner with the turtles and it being a bad texture. (For me, a big one is lumps in smooth substances. Like rice pudding.. *shudder*) Anyway, the reader gets overstimulated and shuts down, Donnie brings ‘em to his “sensory room” in the lab and gives pressurized hugs and back rubs until the reader is comfortable and regulated again.

I’m a sucker for autistic reader fics. There’s not enough of those :(

This seems adorable! I unfortunately don't get to the point of shutting/breaking down from bad food textures (though I do have foods I refuse to eat), but I'll try my best!

The Pudding

Word count: 546

°•.•°

Usually you loved dinner with the turtles. Sure, they could be loud and unruly, but somehow they didn't drain your social battery as much as other people did. Listening to the brothers fighting was entertaining, and they talked so much you didn't have to worry about finding something to say. Usually, you'd say it was one of your favorite activities, trying what Mikey decided to make.

Today, though, that couldn't be further from the truth. Dinner had been fine, one of the best Mikey has ever made, but you could feel the color drain from your face as he revealed a bowl for dessert. A lumpy pudding that you just knew you wouldn't like. You would have passed, but Mikey used his puppy dog eyes, and said something about it being something new he tried out. That's how you ended up with a small serving on your plate.

Raph and Leo ate most of it, saying the pudding tasted great, but for you it wasn't about the taste. Donnie had had some of his own, a smaller serving in comparison to his brothers, and he watched you watch the thing on your plate. Still, you steeled yourself and ate a few spoonfuls, ignoring the urge to gag. That'd be so rude. After maybe four bites you wanted to cry, physically unable to swallow the next spoonful but only feeling worse and worse with the texture just sitting in your mouth.

Suddenly Donnie pulled you up from your seat, walking you from the room just as the other three were about to start a food fight. With a three fingered hand on your back you entered the soft shell's lab, and your confusion got interrupted when a metallic claw offered you an empty garbage bin.

“Spit. I know you still haven't swallowed your last bite.”

Oh yeah.

You spit out the pudding and felt tears gather in your eyes.

Why couldn't you just be normal? Everything was great and you're being a baby over nothing.

The tiny garbage can had been placed elsewhere and you took the last couple steps into a room with low lighting. Brown noise seemed to be playing from hidden speakers around the room. You turned to Donnie, and of course he already had an answer.

“This is my Overstimulation Panic Room. When I get overwhelmed, I come in here and it helps.”

You nod, looking back around the room and wondering what exactly you should do to ride this out. It took a gentle touch to one of your arms for you to notice you were squeezing yourself.

“If you would like I could offer you some pressure in the form of a hug?”

Donnie rarely offered hugs; you found it very kind he'd do so just for your own little meltdown. With another nod he wrapped you in a hug and squeezed, his chin on your head. You could guess he was using those same metallic claws to do other things on his phone, but you wouldn't expect anything else. The buzz from the speakers let you focus on things other than your mind, sounding like wind, and the dim purple lighting meant your eyes could take a break from seeing so many colors.

You'd have to thank Donnie later, somehow.

[la-tramontana]

I'm seeing some union support but not many stories about what exactly a strike can be like to experience personally, which I certainly didn't know about before it happened. I think more of us should share experiences.

When I was on strike, there was a period when I had the assignment to ride around on a bicycle and photograph every dumpster at our worksite, mark locations, and find out which fellow unions were in charge of emptying them.

(this didn't end up happening because my health collapsed, but it was something I was expected to do)

The reason for this was that we had sympathy from groups like the Teamsters who drive UPS trucks. By law they could refuse to deliver across a picket line, but that line could not be the metaphorical line of a struck workplace. It had to be a literal picket line and as our internal support for the strike flagged we were going to send groups of about 10 people to form picket lines around dumpsters and loading docks.

Because keeping our wages so low was driving a large and comfortable margin of profit for our employer, losing a large portion of their workforce to our labor action didn't do that much. We had workers at other sites waking up early to form picket lines at worksite construction sites, and picketing loading docks, stopping deliveries of substances that needed to be frozen, which ruined them.

We had a strike kitchen which served a lot of bad coffee and butternut squash.

We had riotous memey chats and constant arguments with our union staffers, fellow workers, and everyone split on whether to demand disability rights and childcare or give up or what. We were constantly, nonstop fighting. My phone would overheat and I'd look at it at 11 PM with more than new 900 signal messages.

At one point there were serious and pointed conversations about whether the lead negotiator for the other side was hexing our guys and about whether we needed to supply the bargaining team with protection from the evil eye.

We had folks scouting ahead on bikes ahead of the lines checking for cops.

We had multiple cars charge our picket line and clip workers.

We had a picket line drag show.

We shut down bus access to our worksite for days by staging a dance party around the entrance to the terminal for hours. Bus systems need to be reliable for them to be worth running. After blocking the terminal enough times our employer shut down the bus.

We had folks from HR standing far off and taking photographs of our pickets and movements. I got a feeling of constantly being watched, both by worksite labor relations and the staffers in my own union.

We had local anarchists barricading entrances to the worksite with makeshift structures, including just a wall of bikes. One of the barricades was charged by a car, which dragged a bike beneath it for some 50, 60 feet.

The anarchists also liberated workplace cafeterias so that for hours and hours no one had to pay and everyone ate for free, they spread leaflet material that was anti-union boss at our staging area and ran away, they chalked up anti-cop messages. How we loved 'em!

Staffers tried to go behind my back to pull another lead strike captain for my turf but they didn't succeed in cutting the head off the snake. My companions were true to the end.

Some of them are now organizing their apartment buildings. Some won positions in union leadership.

We passed a contract that we all agreed was horseshit, with inadequate protections, and we're all-in now on defending the letter of it as our employer tries to claw it back.

Support the labor movement. Corruption happens, but it isn't the job of bystanders to regulate or manage it.

The union is the people and right now, we need support for every strike, every time. One day longer... one day stronger... to the line, to the line, to the line.

[shimmerwindow]

I Never Really

Part Three

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2k

Playlist | Masterlist

Friday crawled by at a snail’s pace. You normally hated Fridays. The campus was always buzzing with so much activity on the weekends, and it made it hard for you to focus on your studies. Saturday and Sunday were the days you would reserve for working on big projects, but it was difficult sometimes when every other dorm room in a 100-foot radius was blasting music. Part of you felt like a grumpy old man, wanting to go bang on doors and shout turn it down! A smaller, quieter part of you was envious of those who had the time, and friends, to party.

You dragged yourself over to the dining hall after class, your mind filled with thoughts of the party you’d be going to tomorrow. It gave you butterflies to think about it. Meeting new people wasn’t something you were great at, nor enjoyed, and big parties were far from your favorite thing. You stared at the sky, the clouds brushed a gentle pink as the sun set, and wondered if it was too late to cancel.

The dining hall was something you typically avoided if you could help it, preferring your microwaved noodles over any of the slop they served there, but you’d been a bit burnt out on the styrofoam-y taste of chicken-flavored cup noodles lately. You managed to find a quiet corner, and sat down with a tray of the few things in the place that looked edible.

Across the room, you watched a group of jock-type guys make their way in, shoving each other and laughing. One of them locked eyes with you, and you quickly turned your head away and pulled out your phone, opening whatever app came up first, trying to look busy. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw someone making their way directly to where you were sitting. You’d been hit on at this god-forsaken place more than once, and it appeared it was about to happen again. You sighed, and turned your eyes up to the potential suitor.

You blinked a few times. Of course it was Sam. Why did it always have to be Sam?

“Hey!” He called.

You gave him a wave and a small smile, not really in the mood for this right now. You just wanted to eat in peace, but that would have to wait, as he pulled out the chair across from you, dropping his tray onto the table and sitting down.

“I’ve never seen you here before.”

“I don’t usually partake in the unholy abominations they serve here.”

He laughed, holding up a slice of utterly unappetizing pizza he had on his plate. “What, this doesn’t make you hungry?”

“Not exactly.” You picked at what was on your plate, wishing you’d simply settled for noodles tonight.

“You excited for tomorrow?” He asked between bites.

You put on a brave smile, lying through your teeth. “Totally.” You wouldn’t describe your feelings as excited, necessarily. Terrified was more of the word you were looking for.

“It starts at, like, 8. I think. I dunno. I’ll let you know.”

You nodded. That was somewhat good news – you could use the I’m tired excuse after only an hour or two.

“What should I wear?”

He shrugged. “Whatever you want.”

“What are you wearing?”

“Oh, I got this, like…vintage sweater thing I wanna wear.” His eyes lit up, clearly excited about it. “It’s blue and brown and it's got all these cool designs on it, and it’s so comfy. I love it.”

You couldn't help but soften up a bit, seeing how excited he got over something as simple as a sweater. He was so enthusiastic when you asked him where he got it, going on a tirade about all of the thrift stores in town while you ate and listened, and he told you all about how they had so many hidden gems if you knew when to look.

“I should go to some of them some time.”

“Absolutely! I’ll take you there!”

He was so sweet sometimes it was almost annoying. “That sounds fun.”

“Yeah! Like, a little thrift store date.”

Cold silence froze the air between you two, his smile fading, your face prickling with a rising blush. Date.

“I mean, not like that. I meant like, friend date. Not date. Just going to thrift stores together. Like friends. Are we friends?”

There it was once again, that rushed, frantic tone he got when he was flustered.

“Yeah, we’re friends.”

He didn’t seem to know what to say back, looking out the window and back to you a few times, silent. You needed a cigarette.

“Well,” you sighed, standing up from the table. “I’m gonna go smoke.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then. I’ll text you.”

You’d half-expected him to ask to join you, a little surprised he didn’t. Maybe even a bit disappointed. “See you then.”

It was starting to feel like you couldn’t have a normal interaction with him. Every time, it was something. Though, seeing him tonight seemed to wash some of your worries away. He was kind, and from what you knew about him, he seemed like a good companion to have at a party of strangers.

Sleep came easily that night, thankfully. You drifted off peacefully, finally exhausted from the week before. And in your dreams, you found yourself in a familiar place. If it was possible to get deja vu in dreams, you were feeling it.

You were at the top of a skyscraper in some city you didn't recognize, the wind blowing hard enough to throw you off the edge, but you didn't move. The sky was clear and full of stars, galaxies streaking across the blackness and lighting everything in a delicate purple.

Sam was next to you, pointing at the sky, saying words that were carried away on the wind, but somehow you knew he was explaining the stars to you. He would point at a section of sky and it would glow, as if he held dominion over the stars. Like he told them when to shine.

And then, you were in a dorm room, similar to yours but not quite right, the layout was all wrong. You laid on a bed that was too big for a dorm, and just above you, Sam was there. His face hovered just above yours, his hair hanging down to brush the sides of your face. You knew he was going to kiss you, and you welcomed it gladly, your body melting into his. He was made of warmth and light, and love, so much love.

* * *

Your eyes opened to daylight, the dream ending abruptly, leaving you disoriented when you finally came to your senses. These dreams were starting to get ridiculous. He wouldn’t leave your head, even when he wasn't around. You put your mind to work immediately to push any thoughts of him aside, getting out your laptop and starting up your to-do list for the day.

The minutes ticked by slowly, your eyes always watching the clock, waiting for a text from him, dreading the night ahead. I’ll show up to be kind, have one drink, and disappear. Nobody will even notice when I leave, you thought. Though, nothing seemed to be that level of straightforward around Sam.

You successfully kept yourself preoccupied, until you decided to work on your joint project. He’d written quite a bit since the last time you looked at the document. It was endearing, like you were getting a glimpse into a part of him very few people knew. His style was brutish, getting his point across in as few words as possible, with the most blunt language he could muster. It was cute, in a way.

Time seemed to speed up while you occupied yourself, and before you were anywhere near ready to do so, it was finally time to get yourself ready for the party. You did so in silence, working the party over in your mind. It wasn’t too late to cancel. But you couldn’t do that to him. You imagined how his face would fall when you would tell him you couldn’t go anymore, and it broke your heart a bit. You wouldn’t do that to him. Not after that dream you'd had.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket, knocking you out of your thoughts. Sam’s name was on the screen.

leaving soon, you ready? he’d sent.

ready when you are

You took one last glance at yourself in the mirror, memories of your dream from the night before washing over you once again. Staring into your own eyes, you willed it away, pushing the memory down to the deepest recesses of your consciousness until it was lost with all the other thoughts that wandered around in there. You could not possibly face him with such a dream still knocking against the forefront of your mind.

When you finally met Sam on the first floor, you were a bit taken aback at just how…nice he looked. He was wearing the sweater he’d told you about, the patterns and colors complimenting his features perfectly. He had on a faded pair of jeans with a few square patches of fabric sewn into them – one with an elephant on it, another with a detailed drawing of a star. His hair was down, flawless and glossy as always. He gave you a toothy grin when he saw you, his eyes briefly running up and down the length of your body.

“You look nice,” he said, the words catching in his throat a bit.

“Same to you,” you replied, trying to keep a level head with his words repeating over and over in your mind.

“Thanks!” He looked down at himself. “I made these myself,” he motioned at the jeans. “Well, I didn't, like, make them, but I found these cool patches and put ‘em on.”

“You can sew?” You asked, a bit surprised.

“Of course I can. My mom taught me when I was a youngin.”

The thought of him sitting in his dorm, delicately sewing patches onto his jeans, was almost too much for you to bear. “Wanna get going?” The daylight had already long faded from the sky, the few stars obscured by a blanket of clouds.

“Absolutely, miss eclipse.”

“Don’t call me that, cornball.”

“Missus eclipse? Ma’am?” He cocked his head to the side.

You rolled your eyes, biting your lip against a smile. The things he said, coming from any other person, wouldn't even solicit a grin from you half the time. But something about him…you couldn’t help but laugh at every one of his jokes. “Let’s go already.”

The two of you made your way out of the hall and out into the night. There was a surprising number of people out tonight – though, that was only your perception. You didn’t leave the dorms much on Saturday nights if you could help it. Too much commotion, too many drunk men. Walking with Sam felt safe, though.

You made light small talk as you walked, discussing things like the coming winter, how you’d heard it was going to be a pretty bad one this year. You’d expected to feel more nervous at this point, but your body and mind both felt rather calm; as calm as they could be in Sam’s presence. There was something about him that radiated calm, like a lit fireplace or the smoke from incense. Walking with him, even in silence, felt right in a way you couldn't place. And between words, you imagined how it would feel to hold his hand as you walked.

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 12 (Life As a Landgraab?)

After Eva and Johnny returned to his rent-free luxury suite at the Landgraab-owned apartment complex across the plaza, Heather stayed the night with Malcolm.

She woke in the night to pee and found Malcolm’s father, Geoffrey, up late reading in the kitchen. He straightened his glasses when he noticed her. "Can't sleep? Sometimes these big windows let in too many city lights for me, but reading helps."

"I am a little hungry," she admitted. "Dinner was nice, it was just...I felt like Nancy was watching me eat, and she only ate, like, three bites of her own food."

Geoffrey nodded. "She was counting your calories," he admitted. "She only lets herself have so many a day, and once she's counted all her own she can't help but count everyone else's, too."

"Don't you hate that?"

"I've just learned she sleeps like the dead, and if I eat when she's not around, she can't count a thing." His belly moved as he laughed. "Now that you mention food, I could go for First Breakfast. Malcolm says you're a great cook, and I think we've got enough bread for French toast!"

Heather laughed. Geoffrey was kind and sincere - the total opposite of his wife. "Is that like second breakfast? Are we hobbits?"

"We wouldn't need to be if my wife just let people live. But she's got very specific ideas about success that she learned long before she met me. I know my wife and I know she knows better, but I can't lie and say I don't love her strength of will - when I'm not hungry, of course! You'll get used to her."

Heather shuddered. She couldn't imagine getting used to Nancy Landgraab. "I don't want to sell the clinic," she breathed as egg-dipped brioche fried over the stove. "And I really like Brindleton Bay. All those strays help keep me and the animal shelter in business."

Geoffrey smiled. "You fit in well there. I've read some of the online reviews since you took over, and it's nothing but praise for you and your skills. You should be proud."

"How could I walk away from that? Would you?"

"I walked away from plenty for love, including my own last name," he said. Heather plated his toast, and he took a bite and swallowed before he continued. "It's too soon for anyone to talk about marriage, even though all my wife ever thinks about is lineage, but you make great French toast, you're a great vet, and you'll make a wonderful daughter-in-law to anyone someday. If you want it."

With her plate of food, and Malcolm and his parents asleep upstairs, Heather took in the stunning midnight lights. Floor-to-ceiling windows wrapped around the entire penthouse suite, giving incredible views across San Myshuno Bay in every direction.

A far cry from her childhood in Henford-on-Bagley, she considered a potential life in the big city. Her uncle lived here, and Dylan, and soon Holly and Kris would live here, too. This could be her life. Life as a Landgraab, with Nancy for a mother-in-law.

(She did this brooding stare out the window autonomously. After she made the French toast she decided instead of eating, despite the fact she was starving, she wanted to play the piano. I cancelled that and told her to eat her food. But then she picked up the food and headed back toward the piano and I thought she was going to try to play piano with a fork in her hand, but she did this instead.

She didn't even know I planned to make her do this for the plot/screenshot, anyway, and she served up exactly what I wanted her to do with a bonus side of French toast. I just adore her.)

Heather tidied the kitchen and snuggled back in bed with Malcolm, dozing off until they were ripped awake by sunlight streaming through the massive windows.

"Good morning," she said, cuddling into his shoulder. They'd always parted before sunrise, but his king-sized bed with memory foam - and that view! - was a pretty spectacular way to wake up.

"Mmrrnph," he grumbled, turning away and pulling the covers. "I need coffee."

"Never mind," she muttered under her breath, throwing back the covers as she stood so he could freeze.

With the blanket on the floor, he stumbled groggily out of bed. "Sorry," he said, squinting into the sunlight. "It's so damn bright! Don't be like that. I hate mornings."

"It's fine," she said, fighting her disappointment with a plastered smile as they both got dressed. "I have to get back to Brindleton to open the clinic, anyway."

He leaned in for an awkward embrace, but he pulled back when his phone pinged with an incoming email. "I'll text you later," he said.

Making her way downstairs, Heather tried not to overthink his pre-coffee demeanor, but before she returned to the Simmerloop Superhighway, she detoured to her uncle's penthouse in the Arts Quarter. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

[my-castles-crumbling]

Merry Christmas! Chapter 12- Clandestine

Merry Christmas, to all those who celebrate! What better on this lovely holiday than lots of toxicity and angst? WARNING: THIS CHAPTER IS PRETTY HEAVY SO PLEASE READ WARNINGS! CW: deadnaming, transphobia, lots of dysphoria, mentions of physical abuse, abuse by parents through magic, just like...really shitty people, a hint of people sexualizing minors (but not in a way that results in anything), use of the imperius curse, but not in a sexual way, just...Walburga and Orion being horrible.

The euphoria of having two supportive roommates was short-lived, as an owl arrived for Regulus as December started that made his skin crawl:

Regina, This serves as a reminder that we expect both you and your brother here and on your best behavior during the holidays. We have many important extended family members coming to our hour for Christmas, and it is important that you are here to represent the Black family. We will pick you up at King’s Cross at eleven. Mother

-

When classes ended for the holidays, Regulus found himself laying in his dorm room, Pandora laying on Barty’s bed while Barty lay with Evan, all of them staring up at the ceiling.

“Is anyone actually excited about going home?” Barty asked vaguely, kicking gently at Evan’s knee.

The room was quiet.

“Don’t suppose Cas can fit all four of us at her house?” Evan joked humorlessly, kicking back at Barty.

“She could barely fit me,” Regulus murmured, stomach turning at the thought of going home.

More silence.

“Well. We could all stay here?” Pandora spoke now.

“My parents would rather birth a dragon before allow me to stay here again,” Regulus snorted, thinking of the letter he’d received last week.

Barty sat up and laughed a bit. “I’d pay money to see that.”

“Same.”

-

Sometimes, Regulus wondered if anyone really enjoyed the holidays. He tried to remember a time when they didn’t mean some sort of discomfort. Some amount of dread.

Even as a child, the holidays weren’t magical, like in the stories. Because it wasn’t magical to be stuffed into horrid outfits and paraded about to others. It wasn’t fun to sit in hard-backed chairs and pressured to behave perfectly so company didn’t ‘judge the entire family.’ It wasn’t joyous. It wasn’t a celebration.

He wondered if some families got together simply to see each other and enjoy being with one another. Because really, days with his extended family weren’t enjoyable. It felt more like a competition- Walburga reminding both him and Sirius to be the most well-behaved. To not embarrass her. The adults bragging about their children to each other while said children were expected to sit and eat what they were given. Like living dolls.

This year was obviously expected to be no different.

-

“You’re getting older, Regina,” his mother said one night at dinner, shortly after they’d arrived back from Hogwarts.

He winced, trying not to stab too violently at his steak. “Regulus,” he murmured.

“That’s exactly it,” his mother continued, looking over her nose at him. “Your father and I have been talking and we’ve given you enough chances. We’ve tried mind healers. We’ve tried giving you time. We’ve tried punishment. You’re far too old for this nonsense, and I’ll be having it no longer. From either of you,” she said pointedly, looking to Sirius.

Sirius just rolled his eyes and ate quietly.

“You’re to drop it. All of it. Or your father and I will have to find a stricter consequence,” Walburga said in a threatening voice.

Regulus’s stomach turned at that, and he felt a bit ill. He grabbed at the rock in his pocket, squeezing it tightly. Stricter than partial starvation, isolation, and pain?

He looked at Sirius, who looked back at him with an equally-nervous expression. “Yes, mother,” he murmured, deciding he could try his best to keep his mouth shut for the next two weeks.

-

“Just leave it, Sirius,” he told his brother late that night, even as his stomach churned at the thought. “Don’t- don’t correct them anymore. Don’t say anything anymore. I don’t want…I don’t want anything bad to happen.”

He reflected on all the things their parents had done to both of them without batting an eye. The bigoted ideals they spewed so blatantly as if they made all the sense in the world. The way they supported hurting and even killing people they disliked, people who were different from them.

It was scary to think about, but Walburga and Orion could be dangerous. And apparently, they didn’t possess a soft bone in their bodies. Even for their kids.

Sirius stared at him for a moment, the moon reflecting in his eyes, making them sparkle like stars. “Reg….someday we’ll find a place where we won’t have to worry about it.”

“We have that place. Hogwarts,” Regulus shrugged. And Hogwarts was that place. Especially now, with Barty and Evan knowing about him and accepting him. He truly felt like himself there. Like he wasn’t fighting against anyone or anything just to exist.

But Sirius looked at him with pain in his eyes. “No, like...a home.”

Regulus thought about that. Had he ever really had a home? “Sounds nice,” he murmured.

Sounds impossible.

-

Keeping his mouth shut worked for a while. He responded to his parents, even when they said “Regina” or “she” or “her,” even though it made his skin crawl. He wore baggy shirts to hide his binder. He and Sirius both stopped correcting their parents.

He tried instead to stay away from everyone. He hid in his room during the day- reading, completing his homework, turning his rock over and over again in his hand and daydreaming about being back at Hogwarts. Being Regulus again.

If he was honest, he hated it, but he knew at this point that fighting against Walburga and Orion was risky. The entire Black family favored more traditional forms of magic, and Regulus wouldn’t put it past them to do something particularly cruel or painful. Or even to keep them both from Hogwarts completely.

So, he sucked it up for a bit, sneaking into Sirius’s room like he used to, sharing his bed with him and whispering to him about the goosebumps he felt on the back of his neck when Mother called him ‘Regina’ and the way he wanted to cry when Father called him his daughter. And together they counted down the days until they would go back to Hogwarts.

“It’s not forever, Reggie,” Sirius whispered to him as they shared a blanket, Sirius’s warmth the only comforting thing Regulus could find.

-

“Absolutely not,” Regulus muttered to himself when he woke up on Christmas Day, the nausea making his knees wobble.

It sat there, innocent and unmoving, shiny and pristine: a dress.

But it wasn’t just a dress. It was the most dressy dress he’d ever seen.

Baby pink with matching satin bows, tulle in layers to make an obnoxious three-tiered skirt, poufy sleeves and a corset-type bodice with a v-neck that would make even his small chest look pronounced.

And a clear message: He was to wear it.

He was not going to. Fuck Walburga’s threats.

As if summoned by his thoughts, his mother walked to his door and murmured dangerously, “I had this custom-made for you, Regina.”

He glared at her feet and didn’t say a word. Absolutely not.

“You’ll wear it. You’ll thank me.”

He still didn’t say a word, still resolutely clamping his mouth shut and looking away.

In the corner of his eye, his mother waved her wand. And then-

His brain cleared. It was the oddest feeling. Suddenly, he didn’t feel. Everything felt empty. It was almost nice, except he didn’t have a choice at all when he felt himself saying, “Thank you, mother.”

And then the feeling was gone. He almost missed it.

Except, of course, now he was furious. And he felt completely violated. Like he needed to scrub his brain out with a wire sponge.

“Good,” his mother said calmly, walking away.

And then he ran to throw up in the bathroom, clutching at his own head.

-

“I have no choice, Sirius,” he muttered to his brother an hour later, as they both stared at the dress.

Neither had said much to each other about the curse his mother had used. It felt like an elephant in the room. Neither wanted to be the one to bring it up; how horrible and terrifying it was. That they could just be controlled like that. What, exactly, had she done? What else could she make them do?

Sirius nodded, looking pale. “Alright. Alright, so you wear it.”

Regulus gagged a bit at the thought, but nodded as well.

“She’s not going to keep doing that. She- we just have to get through the holiday,” Sirius murmured unconvincingly.

“Right. And then the summer?” Regulus asked, eyes twinging only a little.

“We- we cross that bridge when we come to it,” Sirius said firmly.

Regulus nodded again, slowly peeling off his clothing. He didn’t even care that Sirius was there to see. It wasn’t like it mattered much, anyway.

-

After the first ten minutes of dinner, Regulus decided he hated Christmas.

He’d gotten so many reactions on his outfit.

Bella and Narcissa both complemented the pink and bows, giggling and smirking.

Aunt Druella had simply drooled over it, commenting on how Regulus had ‘finally turned into a proper lady!’

Uncle Cygnus had looked at him in a way that made his skin crawl, the old man’s eyes raking over his chest appraisingly.

He’d been to the bathroom twice already, having to take such a long time to calm his sobs, squeezing his rock in his hand and gagging over the toilet, that Kreacher had been sent to check on him the second time and make sure he was quite well.

He was not.

He saw Sirius sneaking worried looks at him, but tried not to react, or even meet his eye.

He felt like a sideshow. An animal on display. And the tortured, furious, worried look in Sirius’s eyes just made it worse.

“Go downstairs, Sirius,” Regulus moaned through shivers as he tried, for the third time, to collect himself in the bathroom.

A friend of his fathers had complimented him on just how “shapely” his body looked in his dress.

“This is ridiculous, Reggie!” Sirius hissed through the door. “I- we have to do something! She’s basically torturing you!”

“I can get through one day!” Regulus spat back, sniffing and avoiding looking down at his body as he wiped his eyes in the mirror.

“I can’t just stand by and let them treat you like this!” Sirius retorted.

Regulus opened the door to look his brother in the eye and tell him that, yes, he absolutely could.

But he was gone.

-

They were called to dinner at that moment and Regulus reluctantly went down the stairs, hoping Sirius would follow suit.

Everyone sat, placing napkins on their laps and folding their hands politely, complimenting Walburga’s ‘spectacular table setting’ or whatever, when someone exclaimed, “Oh! Where has Sirius gone?”

Walburga looked to Sirius’s assigned seat (next to Regulus) and turned a bit pink, clearly horrified that Sirius would dare embarrass her by being absent from dinner and bringing negative attention to her by association.

But then they heard Sirius’s voice down the hall, “No need to worry, dear family! I’m here!”

Regulus turned to see Sirius, and his mouth dropped open.

Because Sirius was dressed in the most obnoxiously frilly dress he’d ever seen.

If he’d been anywhere else, he’d probably have burst out laughing. It was a comedic scene, after all. Sirius’s dress was even worse than Regulus’s. It was pink as well, but mostly a floral pattern, with multiple layers of ruffles and curly pink bows at his waist. Though it was short in the front, the back was long enough to have a train, even though he wore platform bubblegum-pink high heels. Magenta roses lay at each hip and a pink ribbon was tied corset-style up his stomach, and he’d even stuffed apples in the top to give himself a chest. He had another rose tied around his neck and two horrifically giant floral bows tied in his dark hair, which was in pigtails.

The entire table stared, mouths agape.

“I figured, since we’re forcing boys to wear dresses now, I would wear one as well,” Sirius said, and while his eyes held a challenging glint, he spoke so simply it was as if he was stating the evening’s menu.

And Regulus had to snort at that. He was terrified of his parents’ reaction, but he felt the biggest sense of relief wash over him, the sick feeling he’d been fighting against all day suddenly fading away. He was no longer alone, being stared at by his family.

Instead, he and Sirius were together, two boys in ridiculous dresses.

He felt powerful.

Until Orion stood, breaking the silence, his wand in hand.

“Bedrooms. Both of you.”

Regulus looked to Sirius, who looked a bit nervous.

The calm feeling washed over him.

“Now.”

He walked away from the table, quite without his own permission. Sirius followed mutely alongside him.

Bitches be like, "this is my comfort character" and then put said comfort character through all of The Horrors. Sorry, guys. I warned you. But...you should click below to read the full WIP and leave comments and kudos!

[ukrainianfellow]

The story of a Ukrainian gay sniper couple

When Russian aggression began, almost all Ukrainian citizens stood up for their country regardless of age, gender, political beliefs or sexual orientation. There are a lot of LGBT representatives in the AFU. The rainbow flag has spread much wider across Ukraine.

Homophobia was a traditional value among Ukrainians before Russian aggression. However, it is widespread among only a part of the population now. Moreover, it is associated with soviet totalitarianism, and the homophobia-tolerant stratum of the population is actively expanding.

It is noted that the number of LGBT servicemen and homosexual couples in the ranks of the AFU has increased significantly.

Pavel Legoyda, an anti-aircraft gunner in the 112th separate brigade of the AFU, is an open representative of the LGBT community. He does not hide his orientation and has a love partner. Unfortunately, he has not escaped abuse from his comrades. Not everyone in the Ukrainian army shows tolerance to people of non-traditional orientation. Pavel felt it by himself when he was almost stabbed to death by a soldier returning from the front line.

Nevertheless, it is worth noting that in 2023 the LGBT Military group claimed that around 50,000 LGBT people were fighting Russian occupants.

We've checked some journalists, that are in Ukraine, and had a talk with a gay couple and find out what is it like to defend the Motherland and fight together with a loved one.

Interviewer: “Could you tell a little bit about yourself and how did you realize your orientation? “.

“Anderson“: "My call sign is “Anderson”, I am a former sniper of the 81st Separate Airmobile Brigade. Since the beginning of the Russian aggression, I decided to join the ranks of recruits to defend my homeland. At first, I served as a gunner in a motorized infantry platoon. I confess, that even before the service, I had a slight interest in guys. In the army, I made a final decision about my orientation, but I had to hide it from my comrades."

“Heretic”: “Yes, actually he hid it for about six months, maybe a little more. My call sign is "Heretic." I served as a sniper for more than four years. in AFU”

“Anderson”: “Well, I don't deny it – it was hard to hide my identity. It's a very sensitive issue because you have to worry about how your comrades will react on this."

Interviewer: “Yes, indeed, it's a very brave step. Many people still struggles about it. How did you meet each other?”

“Anderson”: “Well, I was quite good at marksmanship and combat actions. Even before the service, I attended individual courses of shooting, and when I had to use my gun in real battle, I immediately realized that not only could I shoot, but kill occupants. The commander noticed my talent and recommended me to snipers. From that on, I became Heretic’s sniper pair.”

“Heretic”: “At first, I thought he was a newbie who had recklessly joined the snipers. That’s why the relationship between us was quite dry and even cold. Of course, over time, the ice began to melt between us. The daily routine and the constant threat to our lives made me realize that I had misjudged him. I thought: “Damn, he's a good guy!.” Training together, escaping artillery fire, resting and living together in the trenches strengthened our bond. One day, I admitted that I was ready to trust my back to my comrade.”

Interviewer: “And how did you realize there something more than simple sympathy or trust?”

“Anderson”: “Well, I don't know exactly when, where or by what circumstances, but one day I suddenly realized that I felt something more than simple sympathy towards “Heretic”. Maybe it was when we wiped out another Russian orcs, maybe it was when we ate in the trenches. I worried that my feelings would be rejected by my comrade, so I didn’t tell him what I felt.”

“Heretic”: "Well, I was in a similar situation. I just realized that was terrified of losing him. And the constant threat to one of us just made feeling worse."

Interviewer: “And how did you decide to confess?”

“Anderson”: “While we were on another combat mission, and stuck under heavy artillery fire. It was so close that there was no chance of survival. Then we revealed our feelings towards each other.”

“Heretic”: “God bless that we had similar feelings!”

“Anderson”: “Unfortunately, we lost our legs and the ability to fight.”

“Heretic”: “At least we survived. We were found by comrades after the bombing was over.”

Interviewer: “Do your comrades know about your relations? What can you say about their reaction?”

“Anderson”: “Yes, they already know about it. After all we’ve been through we decided to reveal our relations to comrades. We talked with brothers after out hospitalization. We didn't care about anyone’s thoughts.”

“Heretic”: “We didn’t even think that our comrades will support our sights. It turned out that we are not the only ones who have such a relationship.”

[lockpickingliar]

Ouma Kokichi (Joker) on Bias

So obviously I was never around to witness the trial. That's a given. And every time there was a trial, Ran-chan was there. That's how the time loops worked. If he was dead already when it happened, my death would have been the one to reset the loop, and so there would never have even been a trial to my knowledge. But that's a lie, since I don't remember loops anyhow and ultimately besides the point.

I have, however, seen the game and how the canon here goes.

And I'm not surprised in the slightest.

I will fully admit that I expected this to happen. I set up these dominoes for myself. I knew Saihara-chan and the others were so ingrained in the mechanisms of the game and that Monokuma was desperate enough that it would be inevitable for him to rely on the Talent of the Ultimate Detective to get out of the mess I'd made for him and they would just accept it because as far as they were concerned, Monokuma was the god of this world.

I wouldn't be surprised if the first time this happened, it went almost exactly like this with the exception of Ran-chan's presence (and the fact he sabotaged it, but I'm not in the mood to elaborate on that).

It's just a fact of the bias I set up. I'm a liar. I'm a cheat. While I'm not proud of the narrative I was complicit in letting Shirogane set up for poor Gokuhara as the easily-manipulated idiot, it absolutely served its purpose to cast an even worse light on me in the end.

That's what I wanted. I needed them to believe I was the mastermind, and in the event of my death, that they would be so biased towards my "malice" that they would not possibly be able to conceive of an outcome where I was the one under that press and Momota was the one in that Exisal.

That of course doesn't mean I had to like it.

It's laughably easy to tip the scales of bias when you know how. That's what lying is best for. Kind lies, cruel lies, they're all lies at the end of the day to the average person, and to the average person lies are bad. If you're known to be the boy who cried wolf right from the start, then people will just assume your only goal is to cause as many problems as possible just for your own amusement.

I don't usually broadcast myself as a liar, actually.

But that's also a lie.

It helps weed out the people with biases like that. Helps me find the people who understand the nuances behind motivation. Helped me curate my organization in a way that benefited the disenfranchised.

Not that the others would believe me. Because they know me as a liar, and liars are bad people so that means anything good I say must be a lie because why would a bad person who lies have anything good to say?

Even though I lost my cool and the mask cracked for a minute before Gokuhara's execution, they ate up my villain speech afterward like ravenous dogs. Do you know why? Because it fell in line with their bias. They had already made up their mind about me from the start, and I fed them and fed them and fed them until they had their fill.

It's easy. It's so laughably easy.

If it had been any other situation, I wouldn't have recruited any of them. Not one, except for Ran-chan, who was the only one of the bunch who picked up what I was putting down. But it wasn't any other situation. It was this situation, and I had no choice but to lead this sorry band of prejudiced idiots.

And what better way to string them along than to take advantage of their biases for my contingency plan?

It carried over from loop to loop, too. The disdain. The hatred. Even though no one else remembered the details, the feelings remained. It seemed to compound on itself and grow, more and more with every repeat. After that first time, that was it. I was locked into that role whether I liked it or not.

I made it work, though. I came up with all sorts of crazy ways to use it to my advantage. To steer the group in a particular direction with fear and fear alone. But maybe that's a lie. Maybe I was terrible at it and after that first bout with the press failed, it was all downhill from there.

I hated leading that way, but it had to be done.

But that's a lie, too.

Which part is the lie? Well, that's for everyone else to decide with whatever biases they have.

[dhovgaard]

Dating Can Be Fun!

I wrote this for the Reedsy contest. Enjoy

Dating can be fun!

By David Hovgaard

Copyright 2020

“How did it go” Heather Long asked the moment she came into Mary Flynn’s office.

Mary didn’t answer at first because Mary didn’t really know how to put, how it went into words. It was Monday. She was at work and Friday seemed so far away now.

“Recorders on” Daniel Rogers said to the air “this is your official after action assessment.”

“Well sir I really don’t think this was a mission, it was well… It was well, supposed to be a date” Gordon Hodge told his immediate supervisor.

“It doesn’t matter what it was supposed to be it matters what it ended up being and the involvement of a civilian makes it all the more necessary that there is a record of these events. Now start.”

When I arrived at the restaurant he was already there” Mary began. There were flowers at the table and a bottle of very nice French wine or at least I think it was French. It was in one of those silver ice buckets and he looked so nice in his suit. He looked exactly like his picture on the app, which surprised me because you know how people use younger pictures of themselves or a picture of someone else. He was as advertised.”

“I arrived early tipped the Maître d’ to set up the table with the flowers and the wine before she arrived. I wanted to make a good impression. I figured if she didn’t drink the wine she might like the flowers at least. While he was arranging that, I scoped out the surroundings and saw no hostiles. I paid extra for a table with a good view of all the exits.”

“He pulled out my chair and once we were both seated, they handed each of us a menu. The waiter then poured the wine which was very good and told us about the specials. I really liked that wine which was why I assumed it was French, but it might have been from the Napa Valley for all I know. I ordered the salmon almondine and I think he ordered a steak. They took the menus and brought bread, and we talked. I told him it was nice to meet him, and he said that I looked beautiful and that it was nice to meet me as well. I think I blushed a little at the compliment. You know I was a little afraid of using that app but on seeing him. I began to think, that it wasn’t so bad.

“So then what happened” Daniel asked?

“Nothing at first, we ordered. There was a little small talk. I told her she was beautiful which she was and we ate some bread and had some of the wine and it was nice for about two minutes or so then things started to kind of.”

“Go sideways” Daniel offered?

“Not so much sideways, more like off a cliff. I saw them come through the double doors and I was pretty sure that the ski masks and automatic weapons meant that they weren’t there to serve dessert.”

“I was right in the middle of telling him about myself when he lunged across the table and pulled me to the floor while flipping it over on its side. There were these loud noises and thuds against the table top. I think I screamed.

“And” Daniel prodded?

Well, the guys in the ski masks with the automatics started firing. I drew my service weapon and caped one but I knew that there were too many to fight off with the limited ammo I had so I decided our best bet was to retreat.”

“He pulled me up from the floor and dragged me out the back. I think I was still screaming because he slapped me” Mary said rubbing her cheek as though it just happened.

“So why exactly did you take the civilian with you Daniel asked?"

“There really wasn’t a lot of time to make a choice. I could take her with me or leave her to be tortured for information she didn’t have or just shot. Leaving her seemed like such dick move, seeing as it was our first date, so I took her with me.”

“Once we were out in the Alley and I wasn’t screaming anymore he told me.

“Look this will be okay. I am going to get you home and then you’ll be safe.”

“What did you say Heather asked?"

“I didn’t say anything. I guess I was still in shock. The date I thought I was on had just morphed into an action movie with real killers and real bullets.”

“Still don’t get why you took her to a CIA safe house. Why not just take her home.”

“He pulled me down the alley to his car. It seemed odd to me that he hadn’t parked his car in the structure next to the restaurant where I left mine but, like I said I was in shock so I just went with him. When we got to the side street where he had parked. He used his key fob to start the vehicle and open the doors. When he pressed the button on the fob his car exploded. Luckily, we weren’t near the car when it went up. Our only option then, was my car.”

“We had to take her car. The noise of my car going up drew them off the restaurant. Once we got her car and were out of the area, I felt we were safe enough that I could as you said, drop her off at her place.”

About about a mile or so from my apartment this big SUV showed up with two motorcycles and they began shooting at us.”

I took out one of the motorcycles out by running him into a parked truck. The other didn’t make that mistake and hung back firing at us along with the SUV. Taking her home wasn’t in the cards any longer. They had her plate, so they had her address Gordon said."

They destroyed my car. The blew out the back and rear side windows and put bullet holes in the trunk it’s a wonder we weren’t killed.”

“How did you evade them” Daniel asked?

I was hunkered down in the leg well of the passenger seat while the shooting went on. I poked my head up long enough to see that were its careening head on into the side of a big truck.”

“A semi was pulling out on the street ahead of us. I gunned the engine made it passed just before it blocked the road to make its turn. That was all I needed to disappear.”

“Then what happened Heather demanded excitedly?"

“He um, well he um, he stole another car.”

“I left her car and took another hoping that they didn’t have access to a satellite. There was only one thing to do at that point, go to a CIA safe house.”

“Okay so you got to the safe house.” But that wasn’t the end of it was it” Daniel said.

“Well for a while it was. I really thought that we had lost them. I called it in and let the sweepers deal with the mess. My plan was to spend the night and then get her home in the morning.”

Mary stops talking which drove Heather a little nuts. “You can’t just stop telling this story now what happened after you got to the house Heather demanded?"

“Come on spill it, Daniel prodded."

“Well, I made her dinner seeing as ours was interrupted and we got to talking and well one thing led to another, two people like us having gone through what we’d just went through.”

“We ended up in the bedroom and I told him, I don’t do this kind of thing on a first dates but we…”

“Did Gordon said, to Daniel."

“Yep, I’ll bet you did and almost got your ass shot off for a little nookie.” Daniel told him almost laughing a smirk on his face.

“That wasn’t what I thought would happen. We were in a CIA safe house Gordon reminded his Boss."

“How was it” Heather asked like a giddy schoolgirl.

“It was good” Gordon said, “and that’s all I am going to say about that.”

“I loved it right up until the guys with guns showed up again” Mary told her Friend.

“Okay yes, laugh all you want, they caught me literally with my pants down. But I think I responded appropriately” Gordon told his boss.

“They started firing through the windows but the bullets got stuck in what I guess was bullet proof glass. We grabbed our cloths and he took me to a part of the wall in the next bedroom.”

“Lucky for you that was bullet proof glass” Daniel told Gordon.

“I get it you don’t have to remind me again, I screwed up. I forgot the first rule always be ready. But, after nearly ten years of being so wound up all the time, waiting for something to go wrong. It felt good to be a normal human being for a little while. Besides it came out alright I put her in the safe room and I dealt with the unwanted party guests.”

“That you did but, one of them almost dealt with you. Doc says another couple inches and you’d have gotten your star on the wall at Langley. By the way she’s a pretty good field medic Daniel added."

“A door opened in the wall and he pushed me through said sorry honey but he had something he had to do and it was better that I was safe. Then he closed the door and I couldn’t get out. But he did call me honey.”

“I got to the armory before the guest made it inside.”

“There were screens in the room with cameras showing different parts of the house. I figured out how to toggle through them and I could see the men forcing the front door.”

“I used my phone to access the house system. I watched them force the door. Got a couple with a clamor I setup in the hallway adjacent to the foyer. After that it was just a lethal game of hide and seek. By the way tell the guys in engineering that I really appreciated all the oblique angels they built into the house and that mirror trap was genius.

“And Heather prodded when Mary went silent again."

“And well, he killed them all she said with a little sadness in her voice tempered by the realization that if he hadn’t, they would both be dead." 

“There was a bright flash at the door followed by a low rumble through the floor.  There were the shapes of bodies and a lot of blood. Those that were left tried to catch him. I saw him get shot and I thought at first, he was dead. Then when he wasn’t I worried that he would get killed.”

“I finished off the last of them just before you guys arrived” Gordon reported.

“When he came for me, his shirt was soaked through with blood. I tore off the bottom of my dress to bind his wound. We kissed” she told Heather.

“That’s about all there is to tell. Do we know who they were” Gordon asked?

“Remember Ali Khan you killed his brother and he swore vengeance against you.”

“I thought he was dead. Drone strike or something like that.”

“Well, he is now the guy that shot you, that was Ali.”

“Funny I didn’t recognize him.”

“You wouldn’t he had reconstructive surgery. He was badly burned in the attack. He couldn’t change his DNA however, just got the results back, it’s him” Daniel said.

“So, what now” Heather asked?

“I don’t know. It’s clear that you can no longer be a field agent. You’re blown. There’s always a desk or maybe the farm. You are one of our best. Maybe you could train the next generation and maybe you could ask her out again you did say you liked her” Daniel reminded him “besides she already knows who you really are.

Mary didn’t feel much like work. After he took her home on Friday night they made love on her couch. He was injured so they took it slow. He was so gentle. She needed that after everything. He was there on Saturday morning with French toast, eggs, bacon and tea. She’d never had anyone not even her ex brings her breakfast in bed. They didn’t say much beyond pleasantries. They made love a few more times and on Sunday morning he was gone. If it weren’t for the blood-stained shirt he left behind, she would have thought it was a dream and then her phone rang.

The end.

[irismfrost]

July 11 - Taipei

What a week! It's hard to believe that it's Thursday already. Even though I checked into our hotel last night, I am still jet lagged, tired, and feel stiff. I also met some others from my group in the airport, so I was less alone than I thought. I even went exploring with two people that I met on the flight!

This morning, I had breakfast at our hotel. I have never eaten food like what I ate this morning. I am not exactly sure what the name of everything is, but it wasn't bad - just very different from a classic American breakfast. Our group had a buffet dinner tonight to celebrate our first day, and once again there were so many new things. The sweet items have a different type of sweetness than the US- it tastes more like what I would expect from a natural sweetener. With the exception of fried food, everything here feels just a little bit lighter. They also serve the option of rice with every meal.

We all have MRT passes now, which lets us travel on the Taipei metro (and other select areas) for the next 30 days. Today we traveled to the older part of the city. This area is closer to Danshui River, where the city originated. There are many young people in this part of town. They have a large building called "Party World" nearby that is mostly just karaoke - they take it very seriously, like people practice days before. Taiwan is also the first and only Asian country to legalize same sex marriage and continues to be a country with many freedoms that rival those of the US. The support, especially in this part of the city, was very evident.

We also visited a daoist temple and the nearby night market (it was not night when we went, they were still setting up). The temple was dedicated to Mazu, goddess of the sea. When the first settlers of Taiwan came from China, crossing the Taiwan Strait was a dangerous feat. People pray to her because it is thought to grant them protection and good luck. I have never been to a temple like that. People wait in lines to pray while their incense slowly burns. Taiwan has never had religious conflict. Everyone is very accepting and that's pretty cool. I suspect this is because of the external conflict that plagues Taiwan. People have to come together to learn to live with different rules - they don't have the energy to bicker about internal affairs like religion. Our tour guide mentioned that with four generations, his family speaks four different native tongues: Japanese, Taiwanese, Mandarin Chinese, and English. I think that speaks to the trauma Taiwan has faced on a global scale, particularly because it has been pawned off to many countries.

Today, I learned a lot. It's only the first day, and I will be learning so much more too. I'm very tired, but I will make my first official post tomorrow!

[timeoverload]

Today felt like it was never going to end. It didn't start very well. I woke up at 2:30 again this morning because I was having another coughing fit. I drank too much water before bed last night and I didn't prop myself up. I should know better by now but laying flat is a lot more comfortable. It's so hard to get comfortable in this bed as it is. I really need to get my acid reflux under control but that's probably not going to happen until I start eating a more balanced diet. It took me 45 minutes to stop coughing so that was annoying. I was so mad because I was sleeping really well until that happened. I think I fell back asleep around 3:30. I had some weird dreams about being at work in the dark again. I woke up at 5:30 which is later than I like to get up. I only had 20 minutes to lay in bed before I had to start moving so that sucked. I don't like having to move right away so that made me grumpy.

Unfortunately I felt like a zombie all day. I wanted to go home so bad. I felt disoriented and hungover but I haven't had alcohol in a long time. Caffeine didn't help at all. I was trying to avoid having lengthy conversations with people because my brain wasn't working. I am still feeling out of it but I feel better than I did this morning.

I also wanted to go home because my rib is bothering me and my back hurts. I have nothing to relieve my pain and I should be used to it by now. My rib was clicking more today and I think I irritated it when I was coughing this morning. It is feeling more tender in that area. It's hard to tell exactly where the popping sensation is coming from. I know it is most likely somewhere between my 8th and 12th rib. Ribs 8-10 are more susceptible to damage because they aren't connected to the sternum. They are connected to each other by cartilage. I don't think my rib got messed up initially by coughing because I don't remember having this issue after my last asthma attack. I think it's from lifting heavy pans and pushing and pulling carts all day. I also remember I was carrying a pan in decontam one day and accidentally running into the sink with it and jabbing myself in the side of my gut so maybe that has something to with it. I felt like I got the wind knocked out of me when I did that. I also have arthritis and I probably have vitamin deficiencies and that's taking a toll on my body so I'm more prone to injury. I just feel so beat up and sometimes I feel like I am rotting. I am glad I'm not having any other breathing issues so I don't feel like this is an emergency. I know that it's not dislocated completely otherwise I would be in a lot more pain. I don't notice it as much when I am resting. I am still planning on getting it checked out and I hope I can wait until Friday.

I still don't think I should be working but I am afraid to call in for some reason. I might tomorrow if I feel bad still. I always feel so guilty about it and I'm afraid I am going to get in trouble or something. I hate that I have more health issues than everyone else because it's embarrassing. I don't want to use my PTO. I know that I won't have enough left to cover my day off on the 25th if I do that because I would want to take more than 1 sick day. I don't want to use FMLA because it makes me feel trapped there. I don't know what to do. I just want to take care of myself. I don't want to be tough anymore.

It was a really busy day for me as usual. I don't even remember how many cases I had. I haven't been paying attention to that as much because I just expect there to be a lot to do all the time now. The days just blend together. Nothing too crazy happened. I had to stay 20 minutes late so I wasn't thrilled about that.

I ate breakfast but I didn't eat lunch because the cafeteria smelled like cat food since they were serving salmon. I picked up food on my way home but I got way more than I should have and I couldn't finish it. I feel so gross now.

The heat is also unbearable. My car didn't start to cool down until I was almost home. I hate this weather and I don't want to be outside at all.

I don't have much else to talk about. I am so sleepy and I need to relax now. I already got ready for bed so I don't have anything else I need to do so that's good. I'm going to try not to stay up late. I hope I feel more alive tomorrow and that it's a better day.

I hope everyone else has a good day tomorrow. Thanks for listening. 💖💖💖