#and the lighting and color grading i keep seeing is just fucking awful. like. jesus christ. that's conk creet baby that's CEMENT

[softgrungeprophet]

real talk if anyone on here ever wants to like... buy me a DVD i will totally draw a real quick bust or whatever in exchange, i have a target wishlist registry thing and everything 😂

Like it says in the note thing on the page, DVD or DVD/Blu-Ray are both fine, regular (not 4k) Blu-Ray is probably fine since my PS4 should be able to play those, but I only have a regular-ass PS4, not a PS5, I cannot play UHD, so if something is 4K UHD please make sure it has either a DVD or a regular Blu-Ray as well...

Anyway it should be set up so you can buy stuff off my registry without me having to blast my address to the world (lol) so if you do this, send me an ask or something off anon (so I can like, contact you) (that or like, send me a message on discord if we're friends, or w/e) and I will def draw you a little drawing as thanks 👍

[pettyprocrastination]

Panty & Bambi

Francisco “Catfish” Morales x Roller Derby!Reader

Summary: Helena Morales celebrates her 12th birthday at the roller rink, where she plays cupid for her kind father who’s attention has been captured by a confident skater that danced about the rink. 

Warnings: profanity, uhhh mention of alcohol?? Frankie being a fucking BOTTOM about buff thick women lmao. 

Word Count:2.9k

Perm Taglist: @honestlystop​

authors note:Wrote this because I’m sad about not being able to do derby this season and i’ve been watching lots of bouts to comfort myself in it lmao. Big inspiration to @qveenbvtch​ who wrote a fucking MAGICAL javi rollerskating fic called Ring My Bell!! It’s so fucking good read it here !!!!!! Big thank you to my boo @captainsamwlsn​ for reading this for me ILY Thais so fkin much <3

“For her next birthday could your daughter pick something that isn’t fucking murder on my knees?”

Frankie stared at his friend and god father to his now twelve year old daughter under the flashing fluorescent lights of the roller rink before taking a sip of the cheap beer in his hand. “Don’t whine Santi.” Frankie laughed.  “We both know you’d do anything for her.”

Which was true. 

Helena had only been a baby when the group went to Columbia to take down Lorea. They had always been a close-knit group of friends, but what happened on that trip, that shit-show of a mission, made them appreciate having each other even more. They visited Tom’s family when they were able to, the first few months after his death his ex-wife wouldn’t even let them on the front lawn. She took to screaming and cursing at them for his death, they didn’t tell her about the teenage boy that took her ex-husband’s life to avenge his brother. 

Tess did in fact get into Harvard. She sent Pope letters from time to time. She didn’t blame him or the others for her father’s death like her mother did. The boys couldn’t say the same for themselves. 

But the family they did have, the sweet chunky cheeked little infant girl Frankie was proud to call his daughter? Oh they all worshiped her. Little Helena had them all wrapped around her finger from the moment they set eyes on her. 

The men had been there for every tea party, fairy tale, and birthday. They watched her go from mashing cake into her mouth at one years old to laughing at a skate rink with her friends at twelve. 

Frankie had been there for everything and his boys were there to help him. 

He couldn’t say the same for Liana. 

“Twelve years brother.” Pope remarked. Frankie groaned and let his head fall forward. 

“You don’t have to tell me man. Where did it all go?” He looked out on the rink with a smile, watching his daughter skate with ease on the polished wood floors while Ben wobbled along next to her, looking more like a baby taking its first steps than a grown man. 

“It feels like just yesterday I was changing her diapers, now she’s in eighth grade.” Frankie sighed, released the vice like grip he had on the neck of his bottle. “Fuck man, I’m not ready for her to go to high school, I don’t know what I’ll do with myself.”

“You’ll do what you’ve always done for her, ‘Fish.” Frankie looked up to see Will standing at his side, setting a comforting hand on his shoulder. “You’ll be there for her. Which is more than I can say about half of the dead beat dads out there now.”

“Dad!” She called out, her pigtails swaying as she turned to him, hands held out with a big grin. “Come on!”

Frankie ignored the pop of his knees as he stood up with a groan. 

“I’ll pray for your back hermano!” Santi called out with a barking laugh as his friend slowly stepped onto the rink with shaking legs

Frankie couldn’t give his little girl the world no matter how much he wanted to, he was just one man. But damn if he wouldn’t skate with her at her birthday party. 

Helena took his hand in hers as they skated, which he knew was more for his safety than hers. But he still felt his heart clench at seeing just how small his daughter’s hand was compared to his.

“How are you so bad at this!” She giggled upon seeing his knees buckle for the third time in two minutes. While Helena had taken to roller skates with ease, the same could not be said for her father, who clutched onto her hand like a lifeline. 

“Mija, the last time I was on wheels like this was before I broke my ankle skateboarding.” A woman skated by them, the wheels on her skated lighting up a bright pink each time they made contact with the floor. You turned, skating backwards for a moment with a carefree smile before turning forward again. 

Frankie’s knees buckled when Helena’s hip bumped against his.

“God-” His daughter snorted. “Maybe if you stopped staring at that lady and focused more on skating you wouldn’t be wobbling like an old man on a walker!”

His head snapped to his daughter like a whip, for a moment uncaring how he nearly lost his balance. “I am not-I wasn’t-did you just call me an old man?”

His daughter simply stared up at him with that smug little grin that he swore Santi taught her. 

“She’s pretty.” His daughter noted, he spared another glance up, feet sliding across the floor as he did. 

You skated around another couple, hips swaying to the song playing over the speaker and hands raised high over your head. You brought one foot in front of the other in a sashay along the rink, gliding over the floor with grace that Frankie couldn’t even try to get as he gripped his daughter’s hand for dear life while they skated along the inner rim of the rink. 

His daughter tugged at his hand, which had gotten arguably more sweaty when he realized that you would be passing them once more. “You should say hi.”

Frankie shook his head and offered his daughter a smile. “It’s your birthday ‘lena.” He reminded her. “You should be having fun with your friends instead of worrying about your old man’s dating life.”

Helena tilted her head in thought before smiling and letting go of her father’s hand. “Okay!”

“Wait-wait!” Frankie shot his hands out to balance himself, without the help of his daughter he felt even more off-kilter and out of his element. “Where are you going!?”

His daughter laughed before joining her friends that had skated ahead of them. “You told me to have fun with my friends! So I’m going to!” She looked behind him and smiled so wide he felt his heart drop. “Have fun dad! You got this!”

“Helena Maria Morales if you don’t-” Frankie’s threat was cut off when his legs wobbled against, one foot shooting out to steady him, except he was on fucking roller skates, which only caused his foot to slide out from beneath him and send him tumbling onto the hard floor beneath him. 

Had it not been for his skating savior that is. 

You shot forward, one hand gripping the collar of his shirt meanwhile the other grabbed the waistband of his trousers to steady him. On instinct his hands gripped your hips like you were a life preserver and he was a man lost at sea. 

“You alright there buddy?” Frankie simply stared at you, throat tight and mouth wide open as his bright wracked for a single thought, a single word to say to you. 

“Jesus Christ.” Santi groaned from the other side of the rink. He and the other boys sat watching in equal parts awe and dismay at their friend being caught like damsel and then absolutely flounder in front of you. “Say something you idiot!”

“Oh this is painful.” Ben snorted. “I don’t want to look away!”

“I’m uh, yeah I’m good.” Frankie realized as you pulled him upright how fucking strong you were, and it made his knees knock together for a whole different reason. His hands tensed and he realized he was still holding onto your hips. “Oh fuck, I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s fine, really.” You held up a hand to silence him, his mouth snapped shut as if it were a trained command. “I know you aren’t some creep trying to cop a feel, I’ve been watching you skate for a while now.”

Frankie looked down at the floor. “Yeah well, the last time I was on wheels was when I was sixteen and tried to impress a girl at the mall by grinding on a rail with my skateboard.”

You slowly took his hand in yours and began to skate forward, slow smooth steps that he did his best to mimic. He was so focused on not falling he hadn’t realized that the pair of you were skating like a couple. “Did it work?”

“Fuck no!” He laughed. “I broke my ankle, lost a tooth, then she and her friends all laughed at me.”

You smiled at his story, noting the way the multi-colored lights bounced off his profile. “Well, I’ll do my best to make sure you don’t break an ankle or lose any teeth tonight, alright Bambi?”

Frankie’s feet wobbled again and tightened his grip on your hands, marveled for a moment at how soft they felt against his. “Bambi?”

“Yeah.” You offered him a slight shrug, he still wasn’t sure how you could skate around others with such ease while also maintaining a conversation, but was thankful for it either way. “You both have brown hair, both have shit balance-”

“Gee thanks.”

You giggled and flicked the tip of his cap. “Let me finish.” You scolded. “You both have shit balance, and you're both pretty fuckin’ cute.”

Frankie felt his heart race and his lips curl into a shy smile. He watched the colors that danced over your form like a kaleidoscope. “Well my actual name is Frankie-” The tip of his skate dipped forward, catching on the floor and sending him careening right into your arms. You kept your feet together at an angle to keep from falling, hands grabbing onto him as he barreled forward, arms thrown around you and nose pressed against yours. “-but I guess Bambi is pretty fitting too.”

“Well Bambi-” Frankie felt a tingle down his spine every time you called him that. A nickname so sweet and innocent had no business making him feel so hot under the collar. “How about we take a break from trying to keep you from falling flat on your ass and go sit down for a bit? If your daughter doesn’t mind that is.”

He looked over your shoulder, where Helena stood with two of her friends, smiling wide and flashing her dad two thumbs up. 

“I don’t think she'll mind.”

```

“A pilot?” You whistled, leaning back in his chair. “Damn, you’ve got me beat. I’m just a high school English teacher!”

Frankie shook his head, toe tapping on the linoleum floor of the little snack corner of the rink that pair of you were sitting at. “Now I wouldn’t say all that. I mean, spending your entire day dealing with teenagers who definitely don’t want to be there? You must have the patience of a saint.”

You bumped your knee against his. “We’ll now you’re just trying to flatter me.”

Frankie held one hand up and the other over his heart, as if he were taking an oath. “All truth here, coming from a former AP English kid.” You gasped and held one hand over your chest and pretended to swoon. 

“An honor student of my subject? Be still my beating heart!” Frankie snorted into his drink, which caused you to in turn laugh loud enough for the people in front of them to turn and glare. 

He had always hated dating. It felt so forced, so uncomfortable. The icebreakers were only met with bland replies of women who clearly weren’t interested in him, and only became less interested when they learned he was a father. That or they would praise him for being so “brave” to raise his daughter on his own. What, as if he was supposed to walk out on her just like her mother did? It turned him off to the whole situation. 

But this? Sitting in the tiny snack corner at a roller rink, sipping overpriced sodas and laughing loud enough to annoy people while staring at the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen? Oh it was better than any date at a four star restaurant he’s been on. 

“Trust me.” He told you. “You would’ve hated me as a student.”

“I could never!”

“Oh yes you could!” He laughed. “I fell asleep in class all the time, never answered questions and uh honestly?” He pulled his hat low over his face with a shy smile. “If I had you as a teacher? I’d never get anything done.”

His eyes flicked to the sleeve of your shirt, seeing your biceps strain against it as you leaned over for your drink. The shorts you wore hugged the thick muscle of your legs and he felt his throat tighten up at the thought. 

You smiled and pushed his cap up so you could see his brown doe eyes. “I’m gonna take that as a compliment, Bambi.”

 Santi watched the pair of you, nearly nose to nose when you leaned in close to toy with his hat. He smiled and bumped Will’s shoulder. “Look at ‘em go. ‘Fish still has it.”

“That’s our boy.”

They had all gotten the call when Liana left, she had simply packed her bags in the middle of the night and vanished. Leaving Francisco and their six month old baby alone. They knew how much it hurt him to see her leave, how much he blamed himself and wracked his brain for how to fix it, how many times he called her and pleaded for her to come home. If not for him, for their daughter. Their little baby girl who wouldn’t stop crying because she was hungry and mommy was gone. 

But to see him now, blushing like a school boy while talking with a woman who his daughter practically pushed him into, they all felt a swell of pride. 

If any of them deserved a happy ending, it was Catfish. 

“If he doesn’t ask her out-” Ben sighed. “I’ll kill him. Just fucking murder him.”

Sadly, just as Frankie was about to ask that dreaded question, if he could get your number or hell, if you’d like to get a drink sometime, a woman with bright pink hair poked her head over your table. 

“Hey panty!” She called out and Frankie damn near got whiplash at that nickname. “Can you give me a ride home? My car is busted and my boyfriend can’t pick me up.”

Your shoulders deflated at her response and Frankie couldn’t help but feel a little prideful that you felt dejected to leave his side. “Yeah no problem Jammie.”

“Thanks!” The girl chirped. “I’ll meet you outside!”

When she left, Frankie turned to you with a slow smile, his eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “Panty?”

“Ughh I know!” You groaned into your hands. “It’s not some weird nickname or anything it’s just my derby name I swear!”

Frank leaned back, eyes wide in admiration. “You play roller derby?”

You grinned, shoulders back and confidence oozing off of you at the mention of your sport. You tucked your hands behind your head and Frankie took that moment to marvel at the muscle that strained against your shirt. “Damn right I do. Not to brag but I’ve been the MVP for the last three seasons.”

It was absolutely a brag and he loved it. 

“You know-” Your eyes flicked to his, shy and skittish. “-we have a bout, a game, this Saturday if you want to come. It’ll be here, at eight. You don’t have to-”

“I’ll be there.” He promised. The thought of you in those spandex shorts on skates, being positively brutal to other women on the track with that confident grin? Christ, he wouldn’t miss it for the world. “I’ve never watched roller derby before but, it’s recently piqued my interest.”

You smiled, raising your foot to knock it against his. “Well I hope it keeps you interested Frankie, because you’ve piqued mine too.”

Frankie felt a swell of pride in his chest at your shy smile and sweet words. He felt like a kid back in high school, trying his best to woo the girl in his biology class with passing notes in hopes of getting a date. 

Only this time he had more experience and a lot less acne. 

“Panty!” The woman shouted. “Lets gooo! I work the morning shift tomorrow!”

Your face fell. “Looks like that’s my que to head out. I’ll see you Friday though?”

“Fuck yes.” Frankie breathed out, before regaining his composure. “I mean uh yeah, yeah I’ll uh, see if I can make it.” You laughed and stood up from the table, turning on your heel at the final moment to press a quick kiss to his cheek. 

“I’ll see you then, Bambi.” You purred, before walking out of the door and past His daughter and three grown ass men, who stood in a circle nearby like a bunch of gossiping old women.

Frankie didn’t even have a moment to realize you kissed him before his daughter bounded over to him asking eighty questions within two seconds.

“What's her name? Is she cool? She seems cool! Are you guys dating now? Did you ask her out? Did you get her number?”

He brought this daughter in for a hug, bringing his hand down on the crown of her head in a playful nuzzle. 

“Alright speedy gonzales.” She laughed into his side and tried to wriggle out of his bear hug. “No more matchmaking, you hear me?”

“But it worked! Didn’t it?” His stern facade melted away at the excited grin on Helena’s face.He sighed, letting his chin fall onto the top of her head. 

“We’ll just have to wait and see mija.”

His daughter whooped in victory, throwing her hands high in the air in celebration. 

“That means it worked!”

[thran-duils]

Performance Art

Title: Performance Art Summary:  Fem!Reader x Ransom Drysdale. The reader is married to Ransom; a picture of their life and flashback to when they met. If she had been here by her own choice and her own choice alone, things may be better for her. Ransom is devious though and is able to tangle her into his web. Words: 4,482 Author’s Note: I would tag it dark!Ransom, but tbh, he is the perfect character to be writing for this type of thing. Warnings (for the fic in entirety): Dub-con, dub-con smut, body shaming, coercion, emotional abuse, loveless relationship

Part Two || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

You caught a reflection of yourself in the window. A tight deep blue dress – Ransom’s favorite color of course – practically painted on your curves. It was the first time you had worn heels this high in almost a year -- the pregnancy causing too much swelling in your feet. The silver straps of them wove around your foot, a band around your ankle. You had thought humorlessly to yourself earlier it was like you were willingly putting on shackles –

“Y/N?”

You blinked, your attention zoning back into the dining table.

Ransom’s aunt Joni was looking at you across the table, a wide smile on her face. She smiled even wider if that was possible, “There you are. Looks like you were on, like, Mars or something.” A few light laughs shared at your expense echoed around hers. “I said, you look amazing. How did you do it?”

You snuck a quick look down at yourself. Right. Your weight. Post pregnancy. Of course that was an appropriate topic of conversation at the Drysdale dinner table. Everything was about appearance.

“Well—”

“Luckily, Y/N has got great genes,” Ransom cut in from beside you. You closed your mouth, gaze turned towards him. You had taken too long to respond for his liking, once again. “Plus, she is really motivated in the gym. Not to mention, a tuck does a lot of wonders.”

You almost visibly blanched. Almost. You were good at hiding your emotions now.

Joni let out a sharp, shrill laugh. Waving her hand at you, she said, “I knew you weren’t perfect! There was no way. Aw, Y/N, nothing to be ashamed of. I had it done too. Couldn’t stand to look at myself after Meg. She wreaked ab-so-lute havoc. Still does. Luckily not on my body though now, so it’s easier to deal with.”

“Thanks, mom,” Meg muttered, throwing her a disdainful look.

“I didn’t wait long either. They told me to wait six months,” Joni said, sticking her tongue out in disgust. “I just couldn’t.”

“Same,” Donna chimed in from down the table. Joni gave her a nod of solidarity.

“Doctor said if she was having the surgery, it should wait until after breastfeeding,” Ransom said for you. “Well, that’s why the baby is on formula.”

He tossed you a quick smirk, cutting into his steak. You watched the red seep from the flesh of it onto the plate, trying to disassociate from him divulging things that should be secret.

“And that’s perfectly fine,” Joni said firmly. “You know, I don’t care what some people say, formula is just as good for the baby as breastmilk. People should trust science more.” You heard a small snort from down the table and did not even have to look to know who it emanated from.

“Of course you would disagree with something regarding science,” Meg quipped at Jacob.

“When it’s filled with mass media lies –”

“Alright,” Donna said cutting into the conversation uncomfortably. Luckily, Walt had left the room to go to the bathroom; he no doubt would have encouraged Jacob’s tirade. Tenseness quickly melted away to charm, “Anyway, Y/N. You do look lovely. And the baby is just beautiful.”

The baby. Yes. The baby being cradled by Fran in another room currently instead of you. Away from the table in case he cried and disrupted dinner. He was beautiful for the aesthetic but when it came to dinner – or any other event Ransom deemed took precedence to your child’s presence -- his preciousness only extended into the collective patience so far.

“Yes, he is sure is a little bundle of joy,” Richard announced, looking proud. Proud of his new grandson and continuing his family line.

A perfectly crafted, artificial smile. “Yes. He is.”

<> <> <>

…TWO AND A HALF YEARS EARLIER

“What the absolute SHIT!”

A shout rang over the water of your shower. You stalled, straining to hear if there was anything else, trying to figure out what was going on.

“What the hell! Who the hell set my alarm to basically blow my goddamn fucking eardrums?”

Shit.

You rinsed your hair quickly, cursing the fact your refreshing shower was being cut short. You had over indulged on the vodka last night and the cool water was like heaven. And now you were going to have to deal with this.

Wrapping your towel around yourself, you continued to hear a loud conversation continuing about who had decided to try to blow someone’s eardrum and not to mention, wake them at an ungodly hour.

It was nine in the morning.

You left the bathroom quickly, walking over to the railing to look down the staircase to the ground-floor landing. You leaned against the oak, peering down at the looming figure over your roommate, Malcolm.

“Look, Ransom, I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened. We were all drinking. Just go back to bed, man.”

The other guy, Ransom, scoffed loudly. “Go back to bed? Malcolm, my ear is still ringing like a motherfucker!”

Malcolm threw his hands out, “Then do you want breakfast? Alyssa has it cooking.”

Ransom exhaled loudly, annoyance still evident. “Whatever,” he muttered, rubbing his ear, and turned away from Malcolm.

Malcolm all but rolled his eyes before saying, “Well, when you are hungry, it’s in the kitchen. I bet it would really help with the hangover.”

He turned and walked off.

Ransom looked after him before shaking his head and making to go back down the hall to the guest room where he had been sleeping.

Something was bubbling in your chest to apologize.

“I’m sorry,” you blurted.

Ransom’s eyes were on you in a moment a floor above him, leaning over the railing in only your towel. Now that he was looking at you and you had drawn attention to yourself, you were quickly losing whatever resolve had forced its way out of you.

“I… I think it was me?” you said uncertainly. “I mean, with your alarm. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I had turned it up that loudly.”

He was burning a hole through you with the way he was staring at you. The seconds stretched into miles, just waiting for him to say something.

“You should keep your hands off my shit.”

The words stung. You were not sure what you had expected but maybe with an apology, you thought you would quell his frustration even a little bit. Apparently, that was not the case.

Ransom tore his gaze away from you and stormed off down the hallway leaving you gripping the bannister nervously.

<> <> <>

You would have gotten over the exchange if only you had not run into him a few days later. You were attending a business convention, trying to get a leg up in the industry; you were close to graduating. There were a lot of big names there and you had been drawn to Linda Drysdale, who had taken an immediate liking, you believed, to you. She was all charm and compliments, but they were constructive compliments, not merely for flattery. She claimed to be self-made -- you noted to yourself to investigate that later – and that was encouraging for you.

“Ah, did not expect to see you here,” She said over your shoulder.

You turned your head and your heart dropped into your stomach recognizing him. Ransom. He was dressed nicer now; hair slicked back, donning a dark grey cashmere sweater and cream trousers.

Turning away quickly, heart beginning to pound, you hoped he had not recognized you.

“Seems I can’t get away from you.”

No such luck.

Linda looked at you and then back at Ransom. “You two know each other?”

“I wouldn’t say ‘know’. I don’t even know her name. She just lives with my friend.”

“Oh. Hmm. That is an odd coincidence then,” Linda said. “Well, her name is Y/N and she is about to graduate – with honors as her esteemed mentor happened to mention to me and she had neglected to herself,” she gave you a slight wink. She had already teased you about being too modest about your accomplishments earlier in your conversation. It was only because Dr. Ewiler – and old friend of hers – had walked by and joined the conversation briefly and spoke you up that she knew about your grades. “With majors in Entrepreneurship and Accounting.”

Ransom peered down his nose at you, still not sitting down in one of the chairs. “Fascinating,” he said flatly.

Red came to your cheeks at his impertinent demeanor and Linda noticed.

Linda scoffed, looking embarrassed for a moment before recovering. She scolded, “Hugh Ransom, Jesus. Be polite.” To you, she said, “Please excuse, my son. I thought I raised him better.”

Son? You almost groaned. You did not miss him rolling his eyes at his mother’s comment.

“Sorry,” he told you in a tone of voice that relayed no remorse at all. “Y/N. Nice to see you again.”

“Likewise,” you said in an even tone, feigning some level of sincerity despite wanting him to just leave. But if he was her son… “I hope your hearing is back to normal despite my clumsy behavior. I am still apologetic about that.”

You were trying to mend that bridge with him; you did not want it to possibly ruin whatever relationship you were currently starting with his mother. You wanted – no, you needed – to have her as a connection.

Yet, you could not quite pinpoint the emotion – miffed? Amused? – that was behind his small, closed lipped smile at your apology. His smile did not reach his eyes, that was clear enough.

“It’s fine,” he responded.

“Your hearing…?” Linda asked.

Turning back to look at her, you gave a little nervous laugh, thinking of a cutesy way you could tell the story. You began to explain but Ransom cut you off.

“I had a little too much to drink and passed out. Y/N tried to help me out by making sure I got up at a decent hour but somehow turned the volume of my alarm up to full blast. Right next to my head.”

Linda snorted, “Oh. Well. That does sound like you.” There was something underneath her tone. As if there was a jab at Ransom. He was stone faced though. “Well, Y/N. At least you tried. That’s all we can say sometimes.”

You nodded, exhaling. Your heart was still beating rapidly.

“So, what brought you to a business convention at a college, Ransom? Surely it wasn’t to see me?” Linda asked, looking at him expectantly.

Ransom told her, “Actually. It was. I was hoping we could catch lunch. I wanted to talk to you about something. When’s this thing over?”

Linda checked her watch and said, “I can really leave any time now.”

You fought to hide your disappointment.

Her attention was on you now. “How about I give you my number, Y/N? I would like to continue this conversation about your business model proposal; it is promising.”

You sat up straighter, heart beginning to race again. She liked your idea? Truly?

“I could use some fresh minds at my disposal. That is if you are interested in my company.”

“Oh. Yes,” you said quickly.

Linda smirked at you amused at your quick response. She pulled out a small card from her purse and flipped it over, scribbling a number on the back. Holding it out to you, she said, “Personal cell phone. Now, don’t abuse it.”

“Of course not,” you reassured her, taking it from her. “That would be disrespectful.”

“Yes, it would,” Linda agreed. She stood up from her chair, straightening out her dress. She held out her purse to Ransom, “Here.”

He took it reluctantly as she gathered herself. You stood to meet her, realizing in your excited state you had neglected to do when she rose. You wanted to kick yourself.

When she looked at you again, you stuck your hand out. “Thank you for taking the time to talk with me. It was enlightening and beneficial for me to have a respected self-made businesswoman’s opinion.”

Linda shook your hand strongly. “You’re welcome, Y/N. I hope to hear from you soon.”

She walked past you and you pivoted, following her movement.

Ransom was staring you down and you averted your eyes from him to the ground momentarily before looking up at him again. He smirked when you met his gaze again. There was something malicious about it and you did not like it one bit.

<> <> <>

A knock on your bedroom door drew you from your bed. You put your bookmark in place and tossed the book onto the comforter next to you before getting up.

Swinging the door open, you startled seeing Ransom standing there, his large hand planted on the doorframe, leaning in towards you. His cologne was strong, wafting in around you.

“Can I come in?” he asked you without waiting for an answer, pushing past you.

“I…” you started to say, stumbling your words. “Yes?”

Ransom was taking your room in and you shifted uncomfortably. He walked over to your desk, flipping through the pages of your latest pieces of your latest thesis; the one you had been speaking to his mother about.

Eyes ran over the pictures hung of you and your friends, over your bookcase, your movie collection, fingers tracing your jewelry hung on display…

He was invading your space.

“Um, can I help you with something? Is Malcolm supposed to be here?”

“He is here,” Ransom answered, dismissively, coming to rest in front of your collection of rocks you had collected from different parts of the world you had traveled to. You could tell him where each one was from with ease, memory tied deeply to them. He was touching them, examining them, and tossing them carelessly back into the bowl.

Moving quickly over to him, you asked, “Can I help you with something then?”

He dropped the rock he was looking at and turned to you, “Yes, actually. I came up here to ask you out on a date.”

Taken aback, you leaned away, brows furrowed in confusion. “Ah. What?”

“Are you the one with a hearing problem, then?” Ransom quipped.

“I heard you just fine,” you responded, still trying to catch up with what was happening.

“Then it’s settled. I have a reservation at Ocean Prime at 7pm tonight. I’ll come back by to pick you up at 6:30pm.” He moved past you back towards your door.

Your mouth was open like a fish, blinking. You snapped back to reality and turned quickly. “Wait—”

“Wear something nice!” Ransom ordered over his shoulder, not bothering to close the door behind him.

Deflating, you stared at the empty doorway behind him. He had not even given you time to respond – to decline if you so chose to. But could you really decline? He was Linda Drysdale’s son. And you wanted so desperately a break into that business world that she moved in; Ransom – despite his boorish behavior – could be a key to that if you played your cards right.

Turning towards your closet, you bit your lip. What could you wear?

<> <> <>

Holding your clutch close in front of you, you walked next to Ransom after the valet took your car. He had a long stride and guided you to keep up with him. Throughout dinner he surprisingly asked you questions about yourself, allowing you to answer. You kept it short and courteous, mindful about not overindulging. He genuinely seemed interested and you were caught off guard; you had expected him to go off about himself. It is what his persona had indicated he would be like in all your encounters with him. Maybe he had simply been in a bad mood?

At least that was the case with you. He was less than courteous with the wait staff and you found yourself forcing yourself to thank them more profusely and smile wider to try to make up for him.

He picked up the entire bill although you had offered to go Dutch. He had seemed momentarily vexed by the offer but recovered quickly, holding out his card to the waitress between his fingers, not even acknowledging her presence past that.

On the ride home, it was quiet, the windows down in his beamer as the two of you raced through the city. He was a fast driver and it made you nervous, but you tried to focus on the city lights, taking in the night life.

Ransom insisted on walking you back inside and having another drink. He helped himself to a smidge of Malcolm’s scotch and handed you your own glass. You sipped and made a face even though you tried not to.

“Right. It’s not a woman’s drink,” he said, taking the glass back from you and emptying it into his own. “Let’s get you something fruity. Ah, perfect. Let me guess: this orange vodka is yours?”

“Yes,” you affirmed, playing with the top ruffle of your dress.

Ransom made you a drink of the vodka, orange juice, a splash of sprite, and ice.

“You know your way around a drink,” you commented lightly, taking a sip.

“I had the pleasure of being able to experiment with my mother and father’s extensive alcohol cabinet since I was a teen,” Ransom responded, taking a drink of the scotch. He walked around you to the living room. “I’ve always loved Malcolm’s style of decorating. He is good at keeping the Victorian look of the house while touching it up with modern.”

You followed him, listening.

He tossed you a look and said, “You haven’t put your touch on anything out here.”

“It’s not really my house. I just rent my room.”

“I know,” Ransom chuckled. “That’s why I wanted to see your room.” Another drink. “Want to show me it again?”

The way he so flippantly mentioned it…

“You don’t want to stay down here?”

Ransom turned back to you, chuckling. He pushed your glass, guiding it up to your lips. “Drink up.” You did as he asked and almost choked when he made you finish the entire thing. “Now, let me ask you again… want to show me again?”

No. He had not simply been in a bad mood the last couple of times. He was still the same inconsiderate, entitled jerk.

You did not answer him, at loss for words.

“Fine. Thought you would feel more at ease in your bedroom, but I guess here is just as well.” You made to protest but he interrupted, “Malcolm isn’t coming home tonight. I asked because I invited them to do dinner too, but he declined since they are going up north to see Alyssa’s parents. Fortuitous for me.”

Finishing his drink in a quick gulp, he grabbed both your glasses and placed them on the mantel above the fireplace. Before you could react, he tugged you to him, his mouth crashing into yours. You tried to recoil but he held tight, his strong arms wrapped tightly around you. He turned you, forcing you up against the wall to further prevent you from escaping.

His hands slipped up underneath your dress, gripping at your thighs.

“Hey!” you finally were able to exclaim when he came up for air. You tried to push him away. “Ransom!”

“Yes?” he asked condescendingly, forcing you back against the wall erasing the small amount of space you had carved out for yourself with the shove. “Is there a problem?”

“Yes! Stop!” you told him, trying to escape underneath his arm but he blocked your attempt, pressing his body weight against you. “Please!”

“What? You don’t like me?”

“I didn’t say that!”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“I don’t even know you!”

“Oh, but you want to know me. And you want to know my family. That is clear as day,” Ransom stated, leaning in close, his nose almost brushing yours. “A girl from a modest family trying to get a leg up in the world…” He smirked. “Truth be told, I would love to get your leg up. But first…”

He forced you to your knees, your face close to his crotch. You tried to push yourself up and away, but he grasped your hair and you stilled, gasping at the tug he administered when you had tried to move again.

Ransom’s free hand came down to your cheek, caressing gently. His thumb brushed over your lips as you shakily made eye contact with him. His pupils were beginning to dilate, desire glaring as his tongue ran across his lip. He hand cupped your jaw and he murmured, “You keep saying you’re sorry. I want you to show me how sorry you are.”

You gaped and he grinned, “That’s the spirit, keep it open.”

Gasping when he shoved your cheek up against him again, you felt his hardening dick through his pants. “Come on, Y/N. Be a good girl. I know you know how to do this. A girl like you? From a modest family not in the area? You didn’t get through school just on brains alone. Had to make connections somehow.”

Anger coursed through you at his words and you tried to push away from him once more, but he just wound his hand tighter in your hair causing you to wince. Tears pricked at your eyes as your anger melted to humiliation as he grinded his length up and down your cheek.

Yanking you away, he stared down at you, tickled at the expression on your face.

“You want to use my mother to get into the business world with a bang. It’s understandable, she’s great at what she does. And she has those connections in her hand to give you. All you gotta do is charm her and give her results.”

“But I want you to have to work a little harder for it. You know I can say one thing to my mother, and she won’t have anything to do with you ever again.” He ran his fingers across your lips forcibly. “So, you’re going to open that pretty little mouth of yours and you’re going to show me one, how sorry you are and two, how badly you want to break out of your situation.”

When you did not answer he gave your head a little shake, “Right, Y/N?”

You licked your lips, a tear escaping. Horsley, you answered, “Right.”

He unzipped his trousers, his cock springing free from the confines of his boxer briefs. You stared at the length in front of you, trying to compose yourself. You could do this. You had to do this. You were backed into a corner, literally and figuratively.

Ransom tasted salty as you took him into your mouth. He groaned the further you took him in, increasing your speed the wetter you made him. His fingers at the back of your head were digging in, forcibly pushing you further to take him even deeper. Tongue swirling, you drew low moans of pleasure from him.

Suddenly, both his hands grasped the sides of your head, holding you in place. He thrusted, using you and you struggled to stay steady on your knees with his violent jolts. Loud grunts left his lips, animalistic and savage. You gagged, a few tears running down your cheeks. He was hitting the back of your throat so roughly you thought you were going to get sick.

Fortunately, he pushed you away. Gasping for air, you rubbed at your throat, trying to ease the discomfort.

He grasped your arms and yanked you from the floor. In a fluid motion, he spun the two of you around to face the back of the couch. His hand pressed to the small of your back and your face came to contact with the couch cushions.

Ransom forced himself between your legs, kicking one out to the side to give himself more room.

“A-a condom?” you choked out.

“You’re on birth control, aren’t you?” he asked, hiking your dress up.

“Y-y-yes.”

He chortled and said to himself more than anything, “Well, we will have to fix that for next time.”

You bucked forward when you felt his fingers slipping inside you, rubbing at your clit. You whimpered feeling yourself get wetter with each stroke. You were getting close; he was skilled at pushing you towards falling over the edge.

But he wanted to be inside you for that; his fingers left and his head replaced them.

When he pushed himself inside, you cried out adjusting to his girth. He moaned loudly, bottoming out. He let out a little laugh before pulling out and slamming back in. Your hands gripped the cushions trying to give yourself some sense of balance as he rammed into you repeatedly.

Ransom was holding tight at your hips, his own snapping off your ass hard enough that it was going to bruise. Each stroke of his cock against your clit sent a flow of pleasure through you until it was like a wave breaking. Broken whimpers echoed as you convulsed around him. When he came with a loud shout, you felt him fill you, his cock twitching inside.

His grip went lax at your hips and he reached underneath, and you squeaked when he pinched at your oversensitive clit.

“That was cute,” he husked, his hands slowly running up your sides. One of his hands snaked around your neck and he pulled you back up to his chest, still fully seated inside you.

“Mhm, yeah,” Ransom breathed against your ear, his fingers flexing in and out on your neck. “I think if you keep this up, you will be the epitome of the type of girl I want to bring home to my parents.”

<> <> <>

…PRESENT

Ransom never let you out from underneath his thumb, not that he needed to try too hard. You knew that if you divorced him, you had nothing. You had signed a prenup and even if you thought you could make it without money, there would be bad blood with the Drysdales and with how much influence they had on the area, you would have a huge obstacle to overcome.

Yes, you got to work with Linda, and you had influence with her. But it was still her business, not yours.

You had gotten what you wanted mostly though.

A family. Money. A place in the business world.

It just came with a price.

Ransom’s hand gripped your leg underneath the table, sliding past the hem to the inside of your thigh.

“Now I have two precious things in this world to me,” he said in response to his father.

Another perfectly crafted smile from you.

And he still had that malicious glint in his eye, even as he leaned in and planted a kiss on your cheek.

“Good girl,” he breathed so only you could hear.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #222

“hold your breath, my dear, we’re going under.”

Have you ever kicked a vending machine? No. Have you ever stayed online for a long time waiting for someone? Ha ha, yeah... I did that for Mini a lot when I was younger. Would you survive in prison? I can almost guarantee I'd find a way to kill myself, no. What is your favorite condiment to go with french fries? Probably ketchup. What do you have a habit of doing when engaging in a conversation with someone? Obsess over if I'm making eye contact correctly. Like the WHOLE time I will be thinking about it. Have you ever lost a pet in a tragic way? How did you cope? I had a lot of childhood cats run over, and that was always hard to see. As for coping, I just... did. What else do you do. Do you have a favorite classical composer? No. Mini skirts, slutty or stylish? Um, what you wear doesn't determine whether or not you're "slutty." They don't bother me. Do you like a partner who is clean cut or rugged? A mix. Pale or tan, which would you rather be? I like pale skin, I just don't like the texture of mine. The negative of pale skin is the fact you can see flaws more clearly. Is walking cats strange? (like walking dogs) No. What about kids on leashes? What do you think about that? That shit is wild. Teach your children better, or keep them in your sights at all times if they have some kind of condition that makes it challenging to teach them properly. How many piercings have you had, BESIDES ears, no one cares. Two. New tats in your near future? Whenever I myself have the money, my next tattoo appointment will be to enhance my Mark tribute one to better the galaxy texture. I love the guy who's done my tats so far, but there are better out there, and I don't feel he achieved my vision. This tattoo is WILD important to me; it has to be perfect. After that, a "new" tattoo probably won't happen until I have a job or I'm gifted money. How about piercings or re-piercings? "In the near future" is the criteria I'm guessing is still relevant? It depends on how quickly I lose enough weight for my collarbones to be clearly prominent to get dermals. I've been fucking stagnated for a year, though, so I don't know when the hell that's happening... Who would you like to hang out with? There's a lot of old friends and acquaintances that fit this. Next new thing you are wanting to try! Idk. Some sort of job I can actually accomplish. Would you ever visit a psychic medium? Definitely not; I don't believe they're legit. Are some days a waste of makeup? Um so idk if you know, author, but people wear makeup for their own satisfaction. If it makes you feel beautiful, then hell no it's not a waste. Do you watch any beauty gurus on YouTube? Okay I fucking adore Jeffree Star y'all. He's a goddamn Mood and inspirational as ALL hell in terms of his determination, work ethic, and open-mindedness. I watch everything he uploads ever, even though I'm not really interested in makeup. It's cool to watch though; it's an art to me. Do you have a PillowPet? No, but omfg. One of my favorite Christmas memories ever is the night my niece, when she was around two or so, was given one (or something like it?) the night before, we turned the lights out, and lit it up so the colorful stars were all over the room. She was absolutely marveling over it. That was the same night my sister revealed she was pregnant with my nephew, actually. That was a great night. Actually felt like a family. Do you have sleep paralysis? Thank FUCK no. Have you ever wanted an ex back, but found out they were dating someone? I've talked about Jason and Ashley before. God that was a bad. Bad. Fuck-ing. Time. Do you like Placebo? I don't listen to them. Has anyone ever carried you to bed? I mean as a kid, yeah. Idr as a teenager or adult. Would you rather have a wiener dog or an Italian greyhound? The greyhound. Dachshunds are precious, but as of semi-recently, I'm personally against breeding pets with damaging/unhealthy traits, and dachshunds are very susceptible to spine issues. Idk if greyhounds have any issues like that. Do your parents buy you most anything you want? Bitch we poor, no. What is the next craft you are going to make? Probably something for Sara for some special event. I don't think that's much of a spoiler, so I don't mind sharing it. Do you learn choreography easily? I was decent when I was a dance student, but no, I can promise you no. My memory is laughable. If you had to choose, would you rather be taller or shorter? Taller, I guess? Idk. Do you believe that Jesus will come back in your lifetime? No, I don't believe he ever will. What color is your winter coat? ... Shit dude, idr. Idk if I even have one, actually. What’s your favorite candy to receive on Halloween? Gimme all ur Reese's cups. Have you ever spent your birthday alone? No. Have you ever had a themed b-day party? I'm sure I did as a kid. Were you afraid of heights as a child? No. I am now tho. Which dollar store is your favorite? Here, Dollar Generals are everywhere and generally the preferred one, I believe. What food gives you diarrhea? Totally serious, most exceptionally "fancy" foods; by that, I assume things with lots of intricate spices and other ingredients. At least severe gas pains are almost guaranteed when I eat out somewhere. Have you ever had a lead role in a play? No. Ha ha man, I remember as an elementary school student though, we had a play where I SO wanted to be Snow White. What is the most fascinating part of nature? Evolution. I don't know how I once didn't believe in it. Would you ever go vegetarian? I am serious about returning to vegetarianism when/if I get to a weight I'm satisfied with (losing weight w/o meat is more difficult than with, particularly for an extremely picky eater). I wish I could be a total vegan, but I know I'm not capable of that. Once you actually learn about slaughterhouses and farm life... no. What berry is your favorite? STRAW!!!!!!!BERRIES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! What is your dream house? Something in the woods with a nice yard/outdoor decor, flowers, wildlife... What was the reason in you crying last? PTSD. Are there any movies in the theater that you’d like to see? The new IT and Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark. What do you think of Coca Cola? It's my third-fave soda. What about polar bears? Gorgeous animals. I will R I O T if they go extinct. My best friend(s) are/is... Sara. When do you want to have your first kid? Never. I am faaar from cut out to be a mother. Which stovetop burner do you use the most? I don't cook, so. The times I've made eggs, uh... I think I use the bottom right? Do you use a dishwasher or wash dishes by hand? Ugh, we don't have one. What year did you graduate high school? 2014. Do you carry pepper spray? No, but I should with how paranoid I am. What is your favorite gas station? Sheetz is the way to go down here. What have been some of your best garage sale finds? *shrugs* Idr the last time I went to one. Ever worked two jobs or more at once? Hell no. I wouldn't survive. How often do you check your email? Every day, mainly for school. What would you do if your ex came to you crying? It would depend on who. "The" ex, I don't give a fuck how I feel about him, he's getting a tight-ass hug because seeing him cry is awful, and I will always care about him to a certain degree. Well actually, I'd ask him before hugging; I don't know if he'd be fine with me touching him. Girt would get a big 'ole hug for sure. Juan, Tyler, and Aaron I'd ask if they wanted a hug. I'd definitely ask any of them if they wanted to talk/vent to me about whatever is wrong; I can't stand seeing people cry. What school do you go to, what grade? I'm a super late freshman in college. How do you feel about school? It's been a drastic change in my daily life and thus has caused stress, but nevertheless I'm ecstatic to be back because I'm actually making progress towards going somewhere. Are you still a virgin? So I know it sounds like it makes NO sense w/o details, but seriously, I don't know. We had "cheaty" ways to just barely skirt around it because at the time I was abstinent, but pretty sure at some point it became sex. Do you eat chips or crackers more? Man, I haven't had chips in a loooong time... though I love them, man. We have crackers at the house usually, and I snack on them occasionally. Is your bed next to a wall? Who doesn't have their bed against at least one?? Is your bed next to a window? There's one beside me against the wall. Do you have neat handwriting? I think so. The only thing I don't like is I write SOOOOOOOOOO slow. Would you rather be a singer or a dancer? Dancer. Would you rather be a musician or a painter? Painter. What did your hair look like in high school? Long and normally brown, but sometimes I dyed it black with colored highlights. Favorite flavor of hot chocolate? Normal?? What is your top priority in life? My happiness, probably. Have you ever made a gingerbread house? Yeah. Sucky ones, but they were gingerbread houses, lol. Do you prefer candy corn or conversation hearts? EW both are gross. Skeletons or scarecrows? I'll see you in the Skeleton War, fuckers. Who was the last non-relative woman you spoke to in person? My Writing teacher. What’s a topic you’ve drastically changed your opinion on? I did a TOTAL 180 on LGBT rights, and my former, intense pro-life stance has altered quite a lot to mostly pro-choice. What’s an achievement you hope to see humanity accomplish in your lifetime? Man, a lot... A total ban from plastic and finding an alternative for it would be great, as well as the cure of cancer and H.I.V. Make gay marriage legal worldwide. Make great progress on cleaning the oceans. I could go on and on. Do you know anyone who has a PhD? As far as personally, possibly. Like, obviously my doctors do. How do you feel when you’re the center of attention? *buys that red button that says "no" in various fashions solely for this occasion* Are you and your S/O Facebook official? She doesn't have a FB, but mine does say "in a relationship." Do you know anyone who works as a lawyer? Not that I know well anymore; a former best friend is in the process of becoming one, though. So proud of her. Which would bother you more: being told you’re not likable or being told you’re not sensible? Being told I'm not likable would really hurt. How many bedrooms does your house have? Two. Have you ever had a dream in which you died? Yeah. Does the thought of having wrinkles when you’re older upset you? Not really. Everyone gets them. Do you use Snapchat? No. Do you know anyone who’s struggling with addiction? Yes. What was your first job? And how long did you work there? I was a sales associate at GameStop. I was employed for like two months, but I worked very few days before I crumbled. Where is the last place you were other then where you are right now? School. How do you feel about the last person you kissed? I adore her. Lol, Lawl, Rotfl, Lmao, or Lmfao? (Which you use most) Lmao or lol. Have you/Do you know anyone that grows weed? Not knowingly to me. Do you really care about name brands? Not just for the sake of being a certain name; I do, however, care about the quality of brands, of course, such as taste for foods or being comfortable in clothes. Describe your favorite pair of jeans to me please. I don't have any. When I was actually slim though, I had a pair of maroon skinny jeans with a black dappling texture, and there were holes in them where the fabric was just black, and I loooooved them. Those and my leather boots was A Look. To wash in the shower, do you use a loofa? That's not the technical name for what I use according to Mom when I've called them that, but rather a body sponge or something like that, but it's like the same thing. Have you ever ridden on a horse? Yes, though not at a gallop or anything "real." Just at things like school fairs. Are you polite? I think I'm very polite, honestly. Do you prefer bright or muted colors? Bright, usually. Can you roll your tongue? I used to be able to after practicing all day once with a friend ha ha, but I haven't been able to for a long time. Definitely can't now with snake eyes. Are you a light weight when it comes to alcohol? No, apparently. Which accents can you emulate pretty well? British and country. How loud do you listen to music? Too loud, I know. Are you more awkward talking to people in real life or online? JESUS FUCKING CHRIST, real life. I don't think I'm half bad online. Do you bruise easily? So easily that I was tested for anemia or whatever it's called where you bleed easily (the test was negative, thankfully). Despite feeling bruised, though, I usually don't have an actual mark. Have you ever bought pre-ripped jeans? All my jeans were. I hate plain, boring jeans. What are you most likely to spend money on? Tattoos, lol... I genuinely think I'm good with money, I feel because of the financial position I've grown up and lived in, although I have never had a stable source of income, so it's hard to really determine that yet. I'm quite sure I'll be fine, but I really do hope I handle my money well when I do and don't invest all my spendable (as in, not money that I'm saving for emergencies) money into just tats. Have you ever been a complete fangirl/fanboy over anything? Welcome to my life, lol. I'm at an age where it's starting to get embarrassing, but. Idk how to change it. What’s the weirdest way you’ve ever heard somebody die of? *shrug* When was the last time you (dis)liked someone without really knowing them? I dunno. I try to not do that. When was the last time you wore a mask? What did it look like? Hell if I remember. I don't even remember wearing any on Halloween as a child. What comes up on your recommended list on YouTube? Mainly let's plays or music. Have you ever had a controlling boyfriend/girlfriend? Hell no, that wouldn't last long. How many true heart breaks have you had in your lifetime? One. Do you have any gay family members? My mom has a gay cousin. Who was the last person to sleep over at your house? Sara. Would you ever get a boob job? No; I don't care enough about them too. I wish they were smaller. I liked mine when I was a healthy weight, so, let's get back to that size, please. What would you think if you found out your ex was gay? Aaron, I think he actually is. Juan, trust me, he's not. Jason couldn't convince me he was gay even if he tried. I very highly doubt he'd be bi/pan, either. Girt, I would be surprised, but not like, immensely. I don't have a clue about Tyler and if he has any gay tendencies/history. Would you ever take someone back if you found out they cheated on you? NO SIR-REE. Do people ever compliment your eyes? Yeah. Would you be upset if you caught your boyfriend looking at porn? I don't know. I used to feel REALLY strongly about porn just being a big 'ole fucking nope, but whatever man, we're sexual animals. Better you take care of urges yourself rather than, you know, raping someone or something. If I personally caught my s/o doing it, idk how I'd feel, but knowing me and my self-esteem, I'd feel I'd probably jump to the whole (if we were serious) "um hi I'm your fckng gf what am I not enough" thought path. I don't think I'd be livid, though. Ask the old Britt, and we would've broken up there, probably. Who’s the last person that hung up on you? *shrug* Do you have a common first name? Yeah. Have you ever been engaged? No. Do you have any tattoos on your arms? Four, currently. They're gonna be covered one day. Have you ever seriously vandalized someone else’s property? No. Have you ever been punched? No. What do you usually order from Olive Garden? I will, without fail, get the spicy shrimp fritas and be the happiest human being on Earth. How do you feel about bats? I absolutely adore them. Do you get excited when you learn you have to dress up? Quite the opposite, actually. What brand of hair spray do you use? I don't use it. Do you like it when guys wear hats? I have zero opinion on this. Burger King, McDonald's, or Wendy's? I prefer Wendy's. If you type for awhile, do your fingers start to hurt? No. Are you the type of person who would study for a test for hours? No, I'm not. I generally don't even have to like, intensely study; I tend to learn upon reading things, or in like math, performing the actions just a couple times. "Studying" doesn't tend to work for me; if it gets to that point, it probably won't stick, regardless of how many times I try. Are you a lazy person? I hate admitting just how lazy I am. But I mean again, it also depends on what is at stakes. Does your house have a doorbell? Yes, though I actually don't know if the doorbell works... Favorite album? Ozzy Osbourne's Black Rain. Favorite farm animal? PIGS! Has your Facebook ever been hacked? No. Do you spell gray with an A or an E? I use the American spelling ("gray"). Would you rather get money or gift cards for your birthday? I would be perfectly and entirely happy with purely money for my birthday, because that equals tattoos, lmao. Have you ever spoken to a detective before? No. Have you ever played laser tag? Once on a double-date with Jason and our old roommates/friends. Do you ever share things on Facebook? Almost all I do are share things I support, find funny, find as inspirational or cute, stuff like that. I can confidently say the majority of people I even have as "friends" on there do not care that much about my personal life. Is anyone you’re close to in the hospital right now? I mean, define "close." My grandmother's going through chemo, but we're not like... my definition of particularly "close," though she's close-ish family, so idk. Is your Wifi protected? Of course. What did you have for lunch today? I didn't eat lunch. How often do people write on your Facebook wall? On my birthday, lmao. Does your phone have a cover on it? No. I'd say I want one, but way more than that, I want a new phone. Mine is godawful. What color was your swim suit this year? I mean my most recently-worn is black, but I think it'd probably be too big for me now. I haven't swam in a long time. Do ladders scare you? Yes. Do you have any pictures of you and your friends in your bedroom? No. How do you eat Oreos? I'm one of those people that breaks the cookie to eat the cream first. Who or what sleeps with you? My cat Roman. Do you know anyone with the same name as you? Yes, but spelled differently. Are you pro-life or pro-choice? Honestly, it's become almost embarrassing to say I was ever pro-life. I'm vehemently pro-choice now. What color LED is the display in your car? Okay so Mom's has a rainbow of options, but I think it's currently stuck on... purple? I think? How am I unsure???? I'm in it every day?????????? Who was your first kiss with? Jason, my first "real" boyfriend. What kind of milk do you drink? I'll drink anywhere between skim to whole milk, but I'm not really a fan of skim despite having grown up with it. What aren’t you afraid to stand up for? I'd stand up for gay rights if it killed me. Do you know anybody in the military? Loosely. What was the last hotel you stayed at? I don't have the slightest clue. Do you have any STDs? No. What’s your preferred salad dressing? YO the Olive Garden dressing is b o m b. Do you have a favorite NASCAR driver? No. Who’s your celebrity crush? I'm almost 24 years old ha ha ha hahaha I'm too old for a celebrity crush aha hahaa haa aahha ah hahaaaaaaaaaaaaa- What color is your fridge? Black. Do you know the metric system well enough to live in Canada? No, admittedly. What was the biggest bruise you’ve ever had? Tell me the place (on your body) and the story of it! Idr. If you have Etsy account - show the very last item you added to the favorites. If not - either skip or just visit Etsy and find one thing you like: I think I have one, but I don't use it. I don't feel like looking. What would you do if you knew that you will be single to your very death (even if you’re in a relationship now)? Nothing would change...? My relationship status doesn't alter my goals and such. Are there any exchange students at your school? We have a LOT of foreign students at my school, so I'd assume so. Have you got any half or step siblings? I have three (actually four, but I don't know one tho) half-siblings and technically a step-brother, but I don't see him as a "brother," really. What cars do your siblings drive, if they do drive? My older sister has a red car, and my younger has a... black Kia, I think? It's dark is all I know for sure, and I only know the brand because it's new. I don't live with either or see their cars frequently elsewhere, so idk. What about your parents? Idk what kind my dad drives, but BOY do I know my mom's car, lmao. It's an older white Kia (I think?) with the bumper fuckin zip-tied onto the car bc it was given to us after a dance friend hit a poor deer, lmao. Look, we don't complain, shit was free. Do you like kid’s movies? Yo I do NOT trust you if you claim you like NO "kids' movie." Describe your handbag. I'm actually gonna look it up. (https://sourpussclothingwholesale.files.wordpress.com/2016/08/night-owl-bag.jpg?w=584&h=364) When was the last time you had to take someone home? ME, never. I don't have my license because I'm terrified of driving. Who was it, and where did you take them home from? N/A Have you ever known someone online and then met them in person? Sara Jaaaaaane!!! :'> There are other friends I'd like to meet, too. If so, which website did you meet on? Sara and I met via YouTube when it was actually community-oriented. Have you ever been to the beach? Yeah, multiple times. Have you ever been kicked out of somewhere? Yeah, I guess. She didn't actually like, force me outside, but I had to call my mother to pick me up. Have you ever intentionally trolled? No. Did you get swine flu? No. What is your favorite type of cat? Aesthetically, I find Persians to be way too cute, though I don't support their continued breeding. It's literally abuse to breed animals that deformed. Do you support the LGBTQ community? I'm bisexual, so like- Have you ever eaten a veggie burger? Yeah, the Morningstar brand from Burger King (not the Impossible Burger one). It's genuinely not bad. If you could meet any major political figure, who would it be? I'm not educated enough on like, any, to properly answer this question. If you drink Monster, what is your favorite flavor? N/A Do you own any Webkinz stuffed animals? I was that Bad Bitch(tm) with like,,,, almost all of them back in the day. If so, do you have a Webkinz online account? It exists, but idr the password sobs. If you had/have a Club Penguin account, how old were you when you got it? I would have a character for like two days, not go back on for years, repeat a couple times... but idk how old I was. Do you own any Nintendo video game consoles/handhelds? GameBoys and a DS Lite, yes. What religion were you raised in? Roman Catholicism. Are you still that religion, if you had one? Far from it. What religion/spiritual path intrigues you the most, if any? Buddhism and Wicca. What ancient culture intrigues you the most, if any? Idk. Were/are you a teacher’s pet? Not like, the kind that sucked up to the teacher for their personal benefit, but if you mean just as in the teacher's favorite, yeah. Do you like pink lemonade? Hell yeah man. What’s your favorite U2 song, if you have one? I don't listen to them. Were your parents born in the United States? Yeah. Do women breastfeeding in public make you feel uncomfortable? I want it to be perfectly and violently clear that I fucking despise you if a child being fed fucking offends you. Why or why not? Because women's bodies aren't sexual fucking objects designed for your viewing pleasure. Write an unpopular/offensive opinion of yours here. I’m interested. Buckle up, lads. Seatbelts fastened? Ass properly in the seat? Airbags in place? There are two genders.

[tessatechaitea]

Teen Titans Spotlight #1: Starfire

Comics in 1986: "Let's begin our new series with Starfire battling Apartheid!" Asshole Fans in 2019: "Comics should go back to the good old days when they weren't political!"

Really, M&M's? Everyone? Haven't you heard about Apartheid?!

So far the craziest thing about this comic book to modern audiences is how boring M&M colors were in 1986. I suspect I don't have the maturity to comment on a story about Apartheid. Oh well! Let's do this! The story is called "Black and White" because, you see, Apartheid was about how whites and blacks experienced two disparate South Africas. It's also a play on how "black and white" is a way to describe issues that have easily recognizable positive and negative sides. It's probably racist that we automatically assume the black side is the negative side. Maybe that also plays into the title! Chess pieces are black and white too so maybe the title alludes to chess. Maybe something about pawns versus the gentry. Marv might even work in some bits about The Beatles seeing as how they're using that zebra crossing on the cover of Abbey Road. Starfire has just returned from Tamaran where she married that dweeby Prince Karras guy. He was Tamaran's version of Terry Long. I'm surprised more panels didn't show Starfire and Donna in the background giggling and holding their index fingers and thumb a teeny, tiny distance apart. Starfire didn't spend eighth grade on Earth so she never learned Earth geography. So instead of flying in from space and looking at Earth and going, "Okay, that's New York right there!", she winds up in South Africa. I bet she came at Earth upside down and got confused. It's easy to get confused in space where up and down don't exist in any objective way. Starfire descends upon a group of black people chanting "Informer" at a woman they eventually soak in gasoline and light on fire. Holy fuck! This comic book just got more real than all 114 issues of New Titans I just recently reread! Except maybe that part where Raven raped Starfire during Starfire's wedding. That was pretty heavy. The white police arrive to commit some justice. Unless I meant "racism" instead of "justice." Sometimes, living in America, it's hard to see the difference.

I bet this guy has a MAGA Twitter account.

How many of your racist family members often bring up black on black crime when discussing gun control or cops shooting unarmed black men? How many of those idiots don't think they're being racist when they bring up that argument and just think they're being logical? It's fucking racism, dudes. Cops killing unarmed black men has nothing to do with black men being killed by criminals who happen to share their same skin color. Nobody ever talks about "white on white" crime. That's just crime perpetuated by criminals against innocent people! But somehow a black person shooting another black person belongs in some kind of special category? Of course a black person is probably going to be the victim of a black criminal because America had this thing called white flight. It caused places to become poor black neighborhoods because white people couldn't handle having even one black neighbor. So people and businesses moved out, local governments ignored infrastructure of those areas (or purposefully simply just built freeways straight through them), and constantly sent the police in to hassle innocent people just trying to live their fucking lives. Systemic racism (and racists!) segregated the races in a fairly efficient manner. So when a black criminal looks for a victim in their neighborhood, of course they're going to almost certainly find a black victim! That's simply crime, not black on black crime. Maybe I would think differently if anybody ever at any time in any of these debates brought up white on white crime. Y'all realize that's the most prevalent crime there is, right? Which means whites are the biggest criminals of all. If you're, you know, going to argue that way, you stupid racist asshole. Plus saying black on black crime is just a way for people to intimate that most crime is caused by black people. "Even though they keep criming us whites, they still have time to crime up their own people!" This comic book taught me that South African police would use purple dye in water cannons to stain people during protests so that they can be identified later as people who participated in the riot that totally didn't erupt later due to the police being overly aggressive and also racist. Wolfman says people "affectionately" called it Purple Rain which led me down a rabbit hole to figure out which came first, the racist ploy to arrest as many people as possible or the Prince album. Apparently the dyed water was named after the Prince album. That's probably why it was an "affectionate" sobriquet.

I'm a little bit worried that Wolfman is about to "both sides" Apartheid.

Starfire winds up with the South African police who tell her all about how terrible South African blacks are and how she's going to get a medal for helping quell the protest. They also call the woman who burned to death a bitch so I'm getting the feeling that they're not really interested in any kind of justice or peace. It's quite possible that — hear me out on this — they just want to oppress the black citizens and make sure they know their place. But I don't want to jump to conclusions! I should wait until I hear their arguments in a frank and logical debate. "Please, white South Africans, explain to me how South Africa needs your violent tactics and racist attitudes to maintain peace and order. Also explain how peace and order aren't different from justice for everybody. I might be convinced to stop calling you racist if you debate well!"

This guy doesn't realize how true it is that he's teaching these black South Africans how to behave.

It would have been easy to read this, at one time, from a privileged position as a citizen of America and think that the white South Africans in this story were caricatures of racist monsters, playing up their terrible qualities to get the reader to sympathize with the plight of the black South Africans. But these caricatures of despicable and horrible systemic racism using tactics to dehumanize a segment of the population are absolute mirrors of Trump and his deplorables. "They're animals." "They're not like us." "They do not think." "They are like children." "They fight amongst themselves." "We are just securing the peace." "This is God's country." "They need to be taught how to behave." "Their flagrant disregard for the law must be stopped." And all of these statements are simply excuses to treat certain people as less than human. "They get what they deserve." I'm so fucking disappointed in so many Americans right now. Starfire is completely confused by everything she's seeing. In her confusion, some journalists get her to sort of say she's for Apartheid. Uh oh! The Teen Titans are going to get worse press than when they destroyed New York City while arguing with their parents about their curfew.

Starfire's response is me on Twitter every fucking day.

The South African leader, Racist McRacisthole, tells Starfire not to worry about the journalists because they're always asking terrible questions and lying about how awful everything is. But Starfire is all, "Just because I have big hair and big tits and my ass is hanging out, don't think I'm a fucking idiot! Not that I'm trying to say people who look like that are idiots! But I know terrible people like you, Mr. Racisthole, think like that! So I just want you to know that I see you! I see what you're doing and how you're trying to snow me with all this fucking dehumanizing garbage! You remind me of the Gordanians!" Then Starfire gets so angry and delivers such a passionate speech that her nose falls off.

"I'b not gobing do libben do yub liebs aby lobber!"

Starfire declares she never cared for politics and tells Governor Racisthole that she's leaving. But instead of going, "Good! Stop interfering with our terrible government!", he says, "I won't let you leave which will probably cause you to stay and help the oppressed!" Starfire hears a prisoner screaming in pain before she leaves and decides to stick around to help him. While doing so, she realizes that maybe she show these government officials real power! No, I don't mean she's going to flash her tits. Jesus. Some of you comic book nerds just don't stop, do you?! Sure, DC panders to your boners by putting Starfire in her underwear. But you do have the choice to stop being such creepy little fucks, you know?

Imagine reading this and instead of thinking, "You tell 'em, Starfire! Way to go!", you think, "Virtue signaler."

Starfire has some more thoughts from 1986 for us here in 2019. She just won't stop!

Virtue signaler!

I swear the rest of this commentary can just be scans of Starfire saying important shit.

I mean, if this 1986 comic book is an example of older comics that Comicsgaters want to go back to, I'm fucking up for that shit.

In the next panel that I'm not going to scan because I'll never finish reading this comic book if I scan every fucking panel, Starfire says, "Unwittingly, my father helped ruin our world by caving in to our enemies rather than fighting for what was right. I won't do that here on Earth. I've got to care." I should probably send that panel to Nancy Pelosi. Starfire frees all of the political prisoners and escorts them back to where they're forced to live outside the city. She tries to figure out what Apartheid means and Father Nelson Mandutu, the rebel leader the police have been searching for, tells her, "Ah, I see — you are trying to make sense of madness." It's as good a reason to dismiss people always pressing you to debate their terrible ideas and worthless topics. How can you win a debate against twisted logic and racist madness? Just ignore them when they call you a coward or an elitist when you refuse to debate. I was always taught that the best way to get shit off of your shoe is to scrape it off, not to get in an argument with it. Starfire follows Mandutu around for the day except for the one moment when he's kidnapped. When she goes to rescue him, she destroys an armory and discovers that Father Mandutu has been killed. BY HER! And there are cameras rolling! Totally not suspicious or anything! I bet we discover she was framed next issue! That's the kind of intelligent speculation you get from a Grandmaster Comic Book Reader like me. I can't be fooled even by the most subtle of plot twists! Teen Titans Spotlight #1: Starfire Rating: A. I should probably apologize to Marv Wolfman for all the insults I've made about his Teen Titans books. This was a well-written infotainment issue putting precisely the right character at the heart of an international travesty. And I thought a story about Apartheid was going to be boring! It's almost as if I forgot that every panel would have tons of side boob! Oh no! I just realized I'm one of those creepy little fucks!

[j-e-green-blog]

The Demon Inheritance (6)

S I X

The dream does not take place in Croma, even after all the reading I did on that strange land from Dillan's notebooks for several days in a row. Even filled with information, I couldn’t conjure even an imaginary glimpse of that place. The dream I’m living now, however, is very as lucid. It is somewhere else, not Croma. Somewhere on earth. Yet, somewhere of great pain and sorrow; I can taste the resentment in the air, and it's like taking poison into my lungs. I can't even find the decency to cough it out. Something tells me I'm used to this place. There is a dark hallway, a red light glinting against the window. The curtains look black in the inky depths of night time; the place looks damned, like one of the circles of Hell. I’m alone, wandering. There is a draft, although the windows are closed and there is no door. Probably some faulty in the wall. From above, fat droplets of water are falling to the ground, mere seconds between them. There's also a leak in the ceiling somewhere. I look for a light switch with my air, but find none. I blink in the darkness, holding back a shaky breath. Either there are no light switches, or I have no wind. I wander into a room, where the flowing curtain waves me forward. Someone is singing. They sound familiar. The song unmistakingly “The Unforgiven” ; I couldn’t miss those lyrics anywhere. My brow pinches, and I step deeper into the room. “Is there anyone in here?” The singer stops abruptly. I glanced around the room, although my eyes were greeted by the pits of blackness replacing every object around me. A sudden cold rushed up my arms, sending them up in goosebumps. I attempted to warm them with my hands, glancing about for a source of light. The only source I could find was the red glint on the window, and the menacing stare of the moon outside. The shadows and the chill were getting to me. The further along I moved, the more bile lifted in my throat and I could taste the grief in the air. Under all that grief, however, was a pinch of hope. “I could kill you, if I wanted to,” I call in threat, afraid under the dominance in my tone. I don't want to dream about here! There is a shuffle followed by thuds. Someone rising up out of bed, their feet hitting the floor. “Who are you?” The menace in my tone slips. Fear, cool and icy, knotted on the inside of my throat. Where was this place? Who was there? Was I going to kill my mother once again, under this poor excuse of a roof? “Emma? Emma, are you awake?” It was Mary’s voice, damp with concern. The same voice who had been singing. “You’re up, Sis. Did you have those night terrors again? Are you recovered?” “I’m never recovered,” I answer without thinking, sticking my hands into a raggedy hoodie’s pockets. I didn’t even know I had those clothes on. “When did you get to my house?” I can hardly see in this place, so I am surprised when her tense arms suddenly clasp around me. Mary isn’t much of a hugger, either, so I have that going against my reasoning as well. I pat her knotted black curls with a hand. Half ignoring the embrace, I glance around. There is suddenly light. The place is ruined, speckles of light shining through cracked spaces in the wooden wall. It suddenly looks midday outside. The curtain stops flowing, lying still over the spider web-pattern cracks on the window. The bed is rough with yellow splotches over it, and the blankets are all just worn, crackly towels. Cobwebs litter the walls, as does the dust. For a moment, I wonder why my home looks so ruined. Then, I realised I have never seen this house before in my life. It isn’t the home I grew up in. It's somewhere completely different. Although it's strange, I can still see the woods of Millton outside - familiar, trees whispering branch-to-branch just on the other side of the window. "Emma,” says my best friend, “This is our home. We came here after the accident. Don't you remember?”

***

The Saturday morning swelled with sunlight. The sudden brightness stung my eyes; I was expecting it to be very early, like when I normally woke up. Instead of the lilac-and-rose light of dawn greeting me, it was the arrow-sharp white-and-gold of daytime. I covered my eyes, squinting into my flesh. My eyelashes pricked my skin. With a groan, I rose out of bed, rubbing my eyes. School took a lot out of me, especially when I usually woke up early on weekends. No murder dreams, again. That's something I can get used to! Like it was part of a routine, my phone went off in its text tone. The small device seemed to tell people exactly when I woke up. Either that, or it psychically woke me moments before I got a message. Welp. Even if I need a few minutes more of sleep, I can’t complain. Sighing, I reached over with one popping arm, and clicked to see who was pestering me. The text read, “Hey, this is Fango. Oliver gave me your number after he got it from Mary. You awake?” Oliver didn’t have a phone. Why would he need my number? I yawned, agitated. It was one thing being woken up by Mary. It was an entirely different thing to be bothered by someone I hardly knew, someone I could hardly stand. For one thing, Fango was the Romeo to my Juliet for one school play, so all the people of our school (for the love of Croma, could they not think about sex and romance for one second?) thought we were dating. For another thing, he was part of Dillan's pop-boy group. Might as well answer him, anyways. It wasn't like I could avoid him at school. Wonder what’s keeping Mary from texting this morning. Maybe she’s sick today. That would suck. Narrowing my eyes, I replied, “No.” Moments later, “Good. :) You read Dillan’s book?” I stiffened, wondering if I should answer honestly to that. He had probably been part of Dillan the tacosexual’s plan, leaving the notebooks out for me to find. I didn’t exactly trust either of them with the whole ‘Croma’ business yet. I wasn't even sure it was real. Sure, I had powers, but how likely was it that I was being trained by demons from another dimension, demons that God supposedly loved? Even so, it would probably be best to get more answers on it. I could be discreet in answering him, getting answers in return. “Yes,” I texted Fango Mills, without much thought. I waited for his reply. In eager seconds came, “And? What do you think?” “Creative,” I lied. The center of my throat felt dry, like I'd swallowed a tumbleweed. I sent the message without much will to further explain my doubts. Although, it makes too much sense to be a prank. I shook the thought away like it was just an annoying bug crawling on my mind. Fango didn’t respond. I had no problem with his silence. He’d most likely think I was hysterical, believing that. After all, it probably wasn’t above him to prank me with Dillan. Then again, didn’t the book list Fango as an Extant? Whatever… I won't trust him until I get more proof… I slid to the edge of my bed and popped my back, stretching. It has to be a prank. You’re delusional, Emma. Instead of going to cook breakfast, I went over to my computer. I shoved aside my earlier stress involving Croma, and came to life with a new worry: my little unborn sibling. And so, for nearly an hour and a half, I sat on the computer questioning everything about babies from poop color to healthy birth. Everything from education to the influence of things mothers did while the child was nestled in the womb. My heart warmed at the thought of being a big sister, finally. I’d been waiting for the moment, and it was arriving… And I would be prepared. I slid off of the chair, ready to eat. My hollow stomach growled at me. However, before I could even open the door, Metallica played softly from my dresser. Maybe that was Fango texting me... Important or not, I was a little irritated to be bothered with food on my mind. Grumbling, I went over and clicked the text message open. “Emma, it’s Oliver. Check the news.” It was sent from Fango’s phone. "It's important, I swear." Fine. Whatever. It’s worth it, some television won’t hurt. I carried my phone with me into the kitchen. From over the counter, where I began brewing myself a cup of coffee, I could see the tv set clearly in the living room. The remote was beside the coffee maker, so I grabbed it and turned on the television. Heh... Looney Tunes. I shook my head. Boomerang was my Dad's favorite channel. Brought him back to his childhood, he said. I switched to the news with little effort to remember the channel number. “...and it was awful. Milton Alabama came under a devastating discovery today,” said the woman holding a microphone. Her uneven blonde hair floated on the wind, and she moved to tuck it behind her ear. Behind her was a map of Alabama, which zoomed in and became a map of Millton. I could see the school, the rows of streets we all lived on so close together, the woods, the park... There were ten bright red flecks on different part of the map, although I didn't pay attention to where they were. “Ten people have vanished in what law enforcement believes is a sort of trafficking movement. The red spots were where each victim was last seen. Each differ from sex to age, and have seemingly no connection except for beingin Millton, although we have reason to suspect others in other places. Mass disappearances have been all over. We encourage those around these areas to be on the lookout.” I poured the black coffee into my mug and walked over to get the creamer. Just once, I’d love it if there were no crimes. Why can’t I turn the news on and the lady be like, ‘Hey, look at this kitten. It was born after nobody fucking died’? Dear Croma, people and their violence and greed… I had the feeling ‘Dear Croma” was going to become a phrase for me, one of those weird saying I just picked up from people. Like "Jesus Christ on a wooden raptor," which I'd picked up recently. That one was from Mary. “First Grade teacher Jenna Fontenot along with her student Macy Flores have vanished. If it weren’t for eight similar movements, police would have suggested the teacher had kidnapped her student. Two brothers, Steven and Adam Grey, both male caucasians in third grade, have also been abducted.” Although it is tragic, why would Oliver call on me to witness this? To make me aware? In all honesty, I could easily harm a kidnapper with my air if I wasn’t able to harm them with my physical self. I dumped two spoonfuls of sugar in my coffee and began mixing. My eyes made their way back to the screen. Behind the woman flashed pictures of the victims, along with the map of where they had lest been seen. “Other victims include a homeless man named Sheldon Wright, a banker named Joseph Jill, a single mother and waitress Beth Foster, college student Phil Baker, infant William Grey, and Middle School student Mary Clarkson.” I spat out my coffee, choking, wide eyes trained on the blonde woman showing the pictures of each victim. Mary’s picture came up and, of course, I was in it. However, I was blurred out. The memory of my best friend’s eyes stared back at me with joy, her white teeth glinting at the camera with her smile. My own eyes met hers, welling with tears even as the picture flashed away. A hot, dry lump formed in the back of my throat. I stumbled backward, suddenly feeling weak. This isn’t real. “In each scene, there was a struggle. Each victim was taken from their home, and there were identical strange notes left at each scene.” This isn’t real. I’m asleep! I struggled to listen, but the woman's words were muffled in my ears. I dropped my coffee, and so it was shards of plastic and puddles of hot tan all over the floor. I swayed, dropping to my knees. The shattered mug’s pieces dug into my smooth, bare skin. But I didn’t care. “The notes each held a symbol of a deranged mark that looked like a three.” A picture of the note flashed behind the woman’s head. It looked like the symbol that had shown up often in my Croma dreams: a three-looking figure, an angle at the top, a loop at the bottom. However, this one was flipped. “A symbology expert is working on looking to see if this has an occult meaning. Some have theorized some kind of occult trafficking problem. If you have any information that could be helpful, call the number below. Next up, a shooting in Nashville has spiked the crime rate dramatically…” I covered my mouth, sure I was going to scream. However, it never came out. I was too weak to yell. My throat burned, and my eyelids shut so hard it felt like my eyes would pop under the pressure of my eyelids. The shattered plastic dug like knives into my skin, and so the kitchen floor was streaked with blood and coffee. The air mingled with sugar and copper. My face felt like I’d just dunked it in hot water. I wasn’t even sure where I was crying from anymore. Tears dribbled from every part of my face. For the first time since I was a small child, I prayed. I hated it, but I was so desperate… God, oh God, please let this be a sick prank. Please, this isn’t real. Please, let Mary be okay… Please, be okay… Mary… I hardly had strength to think. My mother walked into the kitchen, clambering the side of the wall. When she saw me, her eyes widened with fear and concern.  “Emma, are you alright? What’s going on?” Her eyes flicked to my blood on the floor. “Mary… She…” My voice crackled, and I became so quiet that I couldn’t even hear myself. “Mary’s been kidnapped…” I fell to all fours, eyes burning, feeling defeated. Tears welled from my eyes and slipped down my face like twin waterfalls. Of course, my mother didn’t hear me. She pulled me up from the red-and-cream puddle and held me to her chest. “Was it those night terrors?” She said it as if she didn’t expect to be answered. And she wasn’t. She pulled me over to the kitchen table, setting me down so that she could clean up the shards covering the floor. Mary is gone… After lost time, I went back into my room and isolated myself. I pulled my covers around me, grabbed my phone, ignored the five new messages, and pulled up my camera roll. Again and again, I flicked through pictures of my best friend and I. Gone… She can’t be gone yet… Gone… Swallowing the bile in my throat, my mind played out everything that could have been happening to her. Torture. Death. Rape. Selling. In that moment, I regretted every time I watched the news and felt nothing but hatred for humanity when a crime came up. After all, each victim was someone’s loved one. Someone’s mother, someone’s child, someone’s lover… I hugged my knees to my chest, shuddering against the wall. Someone's best friend. Someone's sister. With courage, I glanced over the unread messages. “You have the chance to win a brand new car from Nigeria! Just input your address, and we’ll choose an address at random to send the car to!” “hi emma this is delta did u watch the news?” “This is Dillan… I’m so sorry about what happened…” Fango sent, “I can’t imagine the pain you are going through right now. Now that the law won’t give up on the victims, and neither will we. We’ll fight this… Call me when you get this.” Oliver messaged, “If you want to talk, I’m just next door.” I was filled with a sudden rage. My blood was hotter than my tears, and hatred boiled inside of me. Whoever did this is going to feel a level of pain no human has ever felt before. There had to be something I could do before something actually happened to Mary. I called Fango, the urge to kill shivering through me. When he picked up, I didn’t even give him a chance to greet me. “Alright, mud boy, what do you have in mind?” My voice quivered. My throat was still dry from crying, but my anger forced my words foreword. "It better be worth my damn time." “If you weren’t aware, I have computer skills," He began, "Better computer skills than other people. I can research this from a lot of different websites. In addition, I can hack into the police record of the kidnappings without leaving a trace or cookies on my computer. There’s bound to be tons that they’re leaving out of the public report.” He said something else, but the line crackled, agitating me. Damned phone. “Alright,” I said in a growl. “How do I play into this?” Fango’s service-muffled voice sounded urgent. “I can string these crimes together. Matter of fact, I’m sure I already know who did it. However, I need to find out where they are keeping the victims. You’re the one of the most important parts of this operation. We figured that since you are closest to one of the victims, you have more reason than anyone to do this.” “We?” I questioned, gritting my teeth. Kill me if the tacosexual is going to get involved. Kill me after I kill the douchebag who took Mary… "Fine. Who else is helping us, mud boy?" I clenched the phone by my ear. “You think I’d go in alone?” scoffed Fango. “Dillan is helping me, and Delta will be helping you, along with Oliver. Although… We aren’t sure if he’s coming yet. He hasn’t replied to us. Will you go ask him to help?” “Whatever. Who do you think kidnapped Mary? And you know, Fango, calling them simply ‘victims’ won’t take away the fact that they’re human.” I ducked into my backpack, which was on the side of my bed, pulling out my class notes to write down more urgent information on the back of. “You wouldn’t believe me, would you? It has to do with some people in Dillan’s book.” “Lay it on me,” I challenged, heartbeat fluttering. Not this again. “Dark Generals. Gary Bluethorne. Salt. Satan. Death. Demons. You don’t believe me, but the symbol on the news proves it.” That was right. I’d seen that symbol in my dreams, my visions. I'd seen it, although I couldn't list the night terrors I'd seen it in. “Even if you don’t believe that Croma exists, you’ve seen that symbol before, haven’t you? You weren’t surprised when you saw it. I could tell. It’s the Croma symbol, adopted by the Kalos. The symbol in reverse is the Dark Army’s logo. Each of the ten that they kidnapped is a candidate for Minium. Each has a little bit of Faerie in their bloodline.” “You’re crazy,” I whispered. Nevertheless, my pen harpooned across the notebook paper. I took notes. Why am I going along with this? Why am I not ending this stupid call? “So, explain why they’d take a Minium.” The boy sighed, exasperated. “The Minium is the missing prophet. We, Croma, have a prophet of every kingdom, save for Minium. If the Dark Army can find and corrupt them first, there will be no war against them. They’d have already won.” There was a pause, and the line crackled. “What do you say? Will you work with me?” Mary would never stand against me, I thought. However, I just shifted my arm and muttered, “...Yes. For Mary. And Fango?” “Yes?” I took a deep breath, then said, “I believe this.” I ended the call, and crawled back against the blanket folded up on my bed. Did I really believe in Croma? It really explained everything. My air, the dreams. I was in the game this time. I was part of the kingdom. And I was ready to fight… For Mary. After I cried myself out.

***

I was in Croma again. I was sitting in the library, which had become Oliver’s adopted room; he didn't usually leave the library. There was a heat spread across everything. The tempurature felt wrong, not just hot. Then, in another way, it felt right. As if it had been missing for a really long time. Oliver was by my side, kneeling. His pale face was lit with a curious glow. I sat up as soon as my eyes met his, growling as I clench the arms of the chair I'd been sleeping in. “When did I get here?” His blue eyes widenes in surprise. “You’re awake. Completely awake.” He glanced up, over my shoulder, and nodded in the direction of other Apotropaics. All five of them were standing against the doorway, which leads out of the library and into the hallway. Gan and Caleb were beside each other, proud, arms crossed as they grinned. Carter and Mun are indifferent, eyes narrowed and rather irritable. Ace is suspicious, nibbling the insides of his tan cheek. I could see the bulge of his tongue under his flesh. "We're all delighted," Oliver said. “Yeah, I know. I’m awake.” I stood tall, beside the chair, standing just a hair-length away from Oliver. “What do you know about Mary?” “Quick to the point…” muttered Ace. My Apotropaic pushed himself off of the ground. Through the curtain of shock white hair, he frowned. “She is the Minium. It is certain. Of course, the celebrating will hold off until we actually have her. There’s proof the Dark Generals took her: she isn’t even in Croma, and we have discovered her. I hope she’s alright…” It wasn’t even like a dream to me anymore. Everything was vivid, and my thoughts all made sense. It was only an alternate reality. Completely awake. I pushed myself away from Oliver, muscles aching as if they'd been overworked. “The missing element is fire, right? That’s what this heat is. The castle is on fire outside. Just like the tornadoes that showed up when you found me.” “You don’t seem very shocked,” muttered Carter from beside Mun. I turned to him. His gray eyes were seething, and his dirty blonde hair was as messy as ever. His arms were still crossed, his shirt lining over his slim muscles. “No,” I agreed. “I’m determined. I’m going to save Mary.” An angry grin creased my face. “All you have to do is show me who to fight.”

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #225

“i tried to write your name in the rain, but the rain never came.”

How many times a day do you check your cell to see if you have a text? Considering my dumb phone doesn't let me know I have texts half the time, I do multiple times throughout the day. Ever wonder if the person you hate will become the person you marry? HA HA YOOOOOOOOOOOO SARA AND I DID AND NOW I DEADASS WANNA MARRY HER TOMORROW How many times a day do you wash your hands? It varies. After I use the bathroom or if I'm about to touch food. You walk in on your parents smoking pot, what do you do? lol h u h How old were you when you had your first crush? Hell if I know. I do remember as a young kid though, I was very much "ew boys no thnx." Maybe like... 5th grade? When was the last time you asked God for something? A long, long time ago. Your opinion on smoking: Just don't, dude. It's money going towards gradual suicide. No one likes the smell. You sure won't like how it affects your body. It's an addiction/it's stressful to stop. I'm not gonna like, judge you if you smoke, but nevertheless, I'll tell anyone it's an awful idea. Make love or fuck? It depends on the mood. I was more into the former mood back when that even applied to me, though. Have you ever cried so much over something that later felt like nothing? Oh, I can assure you I have. The last time you were afraid of the dark was: I'm not really scared of the dark, but one time I got up semi-recently in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom, and after one incident, I was so, so careful and nervous to step on Bentley's tail. He lost his fucking mind on me when I did it once, of course on accident. The TV was off by this point, so I couldn't see well at all. I love having a dog that fucking scares me. How often do you say I love you to your parents and mean it? A whole lot. Your boyfriend/girlfriend say they can’t hang out & it’s been two weeks. You? I mean sure, it sucks, but if they're legitimately busy, they're busy. Have you ever wanted a wild animal for a pet? If yes what animal? I had a phase where I really wanted a fox, and now I am DEAD serious about fostering opossums at some point. When you go to sleep, do you have to have white noise or silence? SILENCE. Though I don't really get /total/ silence 'cuz I have to have my fan on. My room's always hot. Have you ever gotten in a fight with a teacher? No. Ever had a creepy dream about a teacher? No. Where were you when you had your first sleepover? Your house or a friends’? I believe I was at my then-best friend's house. I had suuuuch bad separation anxiety from my mom that I know I was older than most kids who did. What are you limits for doing stuff for money? I'd never do sexual favors or seriously hurt someone for it. Is there someone you are mean to all the time for no reason? No. I'll admit I'm typically rather short with Bentley, but Jesus, do I have reason. When you think of love what’s the first that comes to mind? Sara. How do you calm your mind and find peace when you are stressed? My best bet is going to sleep; that's pretty much, usually, my reset button. Have you ever given someone flowers? I gave Jason flowers once or twice. I gave my mom some for Mother's Day as a kid. How often do you get on Facebook? A couple times a day... mainly just to see memes lmaoooo. What day of the week is usually your busiest day? Good Lord, Tuesdays. I'm at school for 13 hours. Mostly sitting in the library waiting for classes, but. I do study a whole lot, though, and it's when I get a bunch of schoolwork done. Is there a place that you will never return back to? Idk. When was the last time that you created a PowerPoint? I'm actually working on/off one for FYS 'cuz we have to do this "Lifeline" thing where we introduce ourselves and give our stories. Guess who's not fucking ready. Do you like group work? NO. NO. Particularly if it's with people I don't know. Do you have any stickers on your laptop? No. Is music or the TV on while you complete this survey? I'm listening to Chase Holfelder's cover of "Kiss The Girl" rn. Does your grass need cut currently? No. Do you listen to Nirvana? Occasionally. What color are the doors in your house? White. Have your friends ever not wanted you to be with someone? Probably. What is your favorite use for whipped cream? I hate that stuff. What is your favorite flower? Orchids. And your favorite nut? Ew no thanks. Can you curse in a foreign language? Of course I know "fuck" and "shit" in German lmao. Are you fond of spaghetti? Hell yeah man. Have you ever played in the mud? I sure did zoom through it on my bike as a kid. Do you remember what your first real relationship felt like? That relationship ultimately led to PTSD, how could I possibly forget. Who can make you happy no matter what? Sara, Mark, and Game Grumps are particularly good at that. How tall are you? 5'4.5'' Are there any animals near you? No, I'm at school rn. Do have a lot of lists? No. Are you a godparent? No. Do you sleep too much or not enough? Eh, it depends on the day and my mood. Have you ever gone a full day without interacting with another person? Yep. How many relationships have you been in that lasted less than a year? Four. Where were you going the last time you were on a train? Never been on one before. Do you think having a bad temper is a sign of immaturity? I mean, no? It's an interesting question and I guess a "maybe," but. I feel this depends on the trigger. Have you ever been significantly more physically fit than you are now? I was a fucking yoga master babe in 9th grade, fuckin fite me. When growing up, did your parents keep the house very tidy? I guess? It wasn't dirty. How many watches do you own? Zero. Are there any ways in which you greatly differ from everyone else in your family? Political views, I guess? Or the fact I'm bi? I only know of one person in my extended family that's gay. Should teenagers be allowed to have their cell phones with them in class? No shit? Emergencies are a thing? BUT, respect the teacher, please. I cannot stand people using their phone in class, especially here in college. You're paying a shitload to learn. Spend that time as you're supposed to. Take education seriously. If your phone's on vibrate for said emergency situations, that's cool. Do you have any gay relatives? Lol oh. Yeah, Mom has a cousin. Have you ever had to have a pet put down? Yeah. Have you unfollowed, deleted, or blocked anyone on social media recently? I deleted my sister's mother-in-law in fury over her homophobia because I've seriously had it, then just a few days ago actually I went through my Facebook list deleting people I just didn't really feel connected to/didn't really care to follow their journey anymore. How many cups of coffee do you typically drink per day? Zero. Do you know what your vocal range is? It's not broad. I'd say I'm probably in a rank slightly lower than most women. What’s the biggest financial mistake you’ve ever made? I've never really been in the position to be capable of that. I've never had a source of income. If so, what sub-genres of metal do you like the best? Probably heavy. Or symphonic, though I haven't found too many artists in that sub-genre that I really enjoy. But BOY, when I do? I will BINGE that shit to the ends of the earth. Have you ever turned down someone who didn’t handle the rejection well? Ha ha oh man, I remember in 4th grade, this kid Nick was desperate to date me. It was endearing and cute, but he asked kinda obsessively. Then jfc, when I broke up with Tyler, you would've thought I was Jason and he was me, holy shit. How large is your largest scar, and what is it from? Well, I can't see it, so I actually don't know. I guess kinda long, but not wide. It's from a cyst removal surgery. Who was the last person you sincerely thanked? Omg, my Writing teacher. She really liked my writing on my essay. I was so flattered. When was the last time you went for a walk? Like, just a casual walk for the sake of walking? Not since I was at Sara's last. That was when my muscle atrophy was starting to get extremely bad though and I was very close to death omg. Have you ever been in a relationship where there was a large difference in maturity levels? I don't think so. When cooking a meal, do you clean up as you go or wait til you’re done? I don't know how to cook. Do you develop crushes easily? NO. I am soooooo romantically picky. What’s the longest you’ve ever stayed as a guest at someone’s house? A month or more with Colleen after we were evicted. That was a really good time, honestly, regardless of how we feel about each other now. I don't think anyone's done something so selfless for me, and we really did have fun. How bad was your acne when you were a teenager? I'd say it was normal for someone that age. Do you like salsa that has fruit in it? NO. Do you think stained glass windows are pretty? Hell yeah. That was my favorite thing about the church I grew up with; Catholic churches tend to truly have incredible stained glass. Are you scared of snakes? Nope, snakes are Baby. Have you had your wisdom teeth removed? No; I only have two, and I just slightly have enough room for them. Do you like hard or soft pretzels better? I strongly prefer soft. Have you ever been carded when buying something? Yes. Do you eat meat? Regretfully. Can you sleep with the light on? NOOOOOOOOOO. I have to truly be exhausted. Have you ever broken a bone? No, but I did fracture my wrist as a kid. Have you ever made ice cream in chemistry class? Bitch I wish, tf. Do you use the microwave often? Considering a bitch can't cook, yes. Microwavable meals are the reason I am alive. Have you ever painted a room? No. What’s in your copy and paste? This survey. Do you know anyone that’s painfully, socially awkward? Fuckin ME JFC. How do you usually pose in your pictures? With the left side of my face facing the camera (bc my hair kinda swoops over the right side), and I'll usually smile with my teeth or do a :D face bc at least I look happy instead of high with my squinty-ass eyes. :') Do you know anyone that absolutely freaks out if you try to take a picture of them? um????????? me?????????????? Do you pick on them for it and attempt to take loads of pictures anyway? If someone doesn't want me to take a picture of them, I absolutely don't push them 'cuz I totally get it. How’s your posture? Bad. Have you ever had to take care of a fake baby in family ed? Thank God in Heaven no. I. Would. Have. Raged. ^ were you a good mother/father? N/A What’s your favorite way to wear your hair up? My hair is too short for that. But I generally find french braid buns SO pretty. Have you ever read a ‘banned’ book? Uh, I don't think so. What does your screen name mean? Favorite animal, meerkats, + favorite artist, Ozzy Osbourne. Have you ever had to take a sobriety test? N- no wait. They were mandatory when I've gone to the ER for suicidal thoughts. Do you like movies more if they’re based on actual events? It doesn't really matter to me. What’s the dumbest thing you’ve ever done with your cell phone? Idk, dropped it? What’s your opinion on gold diggers? Selfish, or smart? Both? Uh, I don't think it's exactly debatable to call it selfish... I mean, you're dating for the sake of monetary gain...? What would you do if your bf/gf was hitting on someone else right in front of you? I couldn't even try to picture her doing that, but obviously I'd be uncomfortable and jealous. What’s something you’ve done that you’ve sworn you’d never do? Idk, multiple things. Which ex of yours do you talk to the most? I only talk to Girt. Can you recall the first person you ever drank/got drunk/high with? I drank with family, probably, but I've never reached the point of being drunk, and I've never been high. ^ are you still friends? I mean, I love my family. Have you ever taken someone else’s vehicle without permission? No. What were you doing the last time you were videotaped? *shrugs* Is that something you’d be comfortable uploading and sharing? I don't know what it would be. Which friend wears the same size clothes as you do? Probably none? I don't have many friends to compare to. Is there anyone’s wardrobe that you’d like to steal? UM Suzy Hanson is a B A B E? ?? ? ? ??? I adooooorrrrre her clothing line (Psychic Circle), too, and so wanna buy something. Have you ever been lost in the woods? DARLIN I've watched The Blair Witch Project 2 much for that shit. What did you last stretch the truth about? Idk. Have you ever had withdrawals from something? Caffeine, and then WoW for quite a few months after I stopped playing for like, a year or more. Is there anyone on your friend’s list you know next to nothing about? I know at least one of Mom's friends that I've only met once, and briefly. How old is 'too old’ for you to date? I wouldn't date over 30 (I absolutely stg that has nothing to do with H I S age being 30 lmaoooo). How do you feel about guys in tight jeans? Skinny jeans look good on like, anyone. Favorite hour-long show? Uhhh idk. Well, at least out of the shows I used to like and would be most interested in watching, The Good Doctor. Favorite half-hour show? Meerkat Manor. Most people who’ve slept over at your house all at once? My current house? Just one, I think. Steak or chicken? Chicken. I'm piiiiickyyyy w/ steak. Is flirting really cheating? Yes, if you're clearly not just teasing. What’s something you own that’s /only/ of sentimental value? My pebble from my partial hospitalization program. What’s your choice of chips? Girrrrrllll gimme Cool Ranch Doritos. What song would you use to torture someone? i t ' s  f r i d a y  f r i d a y What is the weirdest compliment you have ever received? Probably that my nose was cute? If someone REALLY fat was upset, and saying how FAT they were, what would you say? First off, NOT say "you're not fat omg ur beautiful." I'M overweight and don't like when people say that. I'm perfectly aware that you're lying "for my own sake," which is sweet, but it's not helpful. Motivate me/the person to improve without being an asshole. Let them know I believe in them, which I do for ANYONE. If I could lose 60-70 pounds in a year, anyone can. What’s the funniest thing you’ve ever heard a kid say? So when I was very little and my mom gave me orange juice, I freaked out because it had pulp in it. And what did I say? "I CAN'T DRINK THAT IT HAS NIPPLES IN IT" look idk don't ask but boy does Mom love sharing that story. A random stranger walks up to you and says 'you’re hot’. You say: Most likely "go away." Possibly "thank you, but please go away." Actually yeah, that's more likely. Like it's flattering to know someone finds you attractive, but yeah, that's just uncomfortable for some stranger to do that. I also wouldn't want to really piss the person off. Do you send messages on Facebook a lot? Definitely not. Almost the only person ever would be Girt. Have you ever gone to a strip club? No. Not my kinda scene. Like I absolutely will not think less of someone who does this, but I just don't like but moreso feel bad for men or women who reduce themselves to their sexual capabilities. Do you like Chinese food over pizza? Hell nah man. Pizza is supreme. What color is your watch? I'm not wearing one. I never do. Do you believe in love at first sight? Absolutely not. Visual attraction, of course that's real, but I promise you dear, you don't love someone upon looking at them. When you eat Frosted Flakes, do you add sugar in it? I hate that stuff. Who’s the biggest hugger you know? Ashley's father-in-law's mom. ... At least I think that's what she is? Do you want to change your name? Nah, it's fine. Have you ever tried to erase someone from your memory? Of course I have.