#but they are important to who i am. i had to dig that shit out of my parents. finding it out over the past 3 years.

[0rionz-belt]

its hard to think that there was at least a week of my life where I balanced marching band, my rock band program, writing, drawing, and theater on top of high school. I talked to people, both friends and unfamiliar with no issue. And i never thought anything of it.

5 years later and I can barely function doing even 3 of those things. i miss being an artist.

[clockwayswrites]

Die Screaming, Live Laughing

Danny/Tim, Cyan, Wind through tree branches/Windchimes @wisteriavines @darkstarsapocalypse (I saw you before you changed that! Twins!)

cw:bar parent fentons, more temporary character death, bones

The faint, mechanical whir under his fingertips as he spins the camera lens comforts Tim. The fiddling is familiar from the years of following Bats and crime across the city. The rooftops of Gotham are an environment that he’s far more familiar with than here. Here is nothing but endless trees and leaves.

Well, somewhere here is also the campgrounds and Bernard, Ives, Steph, and Cass; but that’s far out of sight and almost out of mind. It’s easy, as he listens to the wind rustle through the trees, to feel like nothing exists but the trees and Tim and his camera.

He spins the lens again.

Ostensibly, the four of them are in these woods to find Mothman. Which would be cool! But even Tim, who proposed this whole thing, knows that it’s just an excuse for the four of them to do something away from Gotham. To do something to make actual use of their summer between high school and college.

If Tim went to college, that is.

He’d been accepted, sure, but he… he just didn’t know if he wanted to. It felt like there were more important things to be doing than college. College was sitting in a classroom and listening to someone drone on about a subject that Tim could crash course himself on with the right library access in a month. It also meant new people and new noises and maybe even a new home. None of that sounds great, really. Moving in with Bruce to Wayne Manor had been enough change, thank you very much.

Tim’s foot catches on something and he does a half step to keep his balance. He expects to see a tree root when he glances down. It’s bone instead. That’s not… unexpected. They had already seen deer in the woods, the creatures got stupidly close to the campsite. It would make sense that with the big rains the few weeks before, there could have been old remains uncovered. But there’s something…

The dirt brushes away easily from the surface of the bone and, with a little digging, Tim is able to pull it free of the earth.

This isn’t a deer bone.

Tim knows this shape.

This is human. A femur.

“You have to be careful where you’re walking out here.”

Tim stands and spins, the femur held like his staff would be.

The speaker is leaning against a tree several feet away. The golden, setting sun backlights them, making them look almost angelic with how they’re wreathed in light. They’re hard to look at.

“Yeah, I guess so,” Tim says, plastering on a nervous smile that was only half for show. How did they sneak up on him? That should have been impossible with the leaves and branches scattered across the forest floor. “Do you run into animal skeletons a lot out here?”

“Not really,” they say with a shrug before they start forward towards Tim. Their steps are silent. “I don’t really get around. And also, that’s not an animal skeleton.”

“No?” Tim’s grip on the femur tightens. “How do you know that?”

“How? Well, that’s because it’s mine!”

Tim swings.

The femur goes right through the stranger.

“Sorry! Little intense, I get it!” They back up a step and raise their arms. The dappled sunlight shines right through their hand. Shines right through them like the stranger is just made out of gossamer. “I get it, but be careful with that, please? It’s my arm! Or leg? No, leg.”

“Leg, it’s a femur,” Tim says, his mouth running without him as his brain works.

“Leg. Ancients, I miss having legs. And arms… and, well, anything solid really,” the stranger sighs. “I am sorry for scaring you. Just… it’s hard not to get a little intense when someone is holding one of my bones, you know?”

“Oh shit! That’s right, sorry,” Tim stammers as he hurries to put the femur back down on the disturbed earth. “Do you— I mean, should I rebury it? Did the rains washing away the earth, um, wake you up?”

“Kinda?” They tilt their head as they crouch down next to Tim.

It’s clear now, as they move a bit out of the light, how transparent they are. It’s like in the shadow they lose tangency. Their hair is still just as blinding, being bright white in a way that’s really beautiful. They reach out to touch the femur but stop short.

“I’m tied to my bones. It’s why they dumped them all the way out here. After they killed me, I mean, all the way killed me, I haunted the fuck out of them. And yeah, sure, they could hurt this form of me too, but I always found a way out and then it all started again. Burying my bones was the only way to get rid of me, and those fuckers didn’t even scratch me a headstone in the tree or anything. Some parents, huh?”

“Holy— yeah,” Tim says. Looking back down at the other partially exposed bones he has to swallow back a wave of sadness. “Is that a yes to covering them up?”

“Actually… I’d like you to dig them up. I’m not stupid enough to think I’ll get justice or whatever, but I’d… I’d like to be somewhere proper and under my name.”

“What is it? Your name?”

“Danny.”

“Okay, Danny,” Tim gives a little nod and starts digging. “My friends and I will get you somewhere you feel safe. I’m Tim, by the way.”

“Thank you, Tim.”

Danny doesn’t help dig. He can’t, he explains as Tim and him talk. While his bones are buried, he’s not able to interact with them or else he would have gotten them out of there a long time ago. They learn together that as soon as the bones are free and set gently aside that Danny can touch them.

Tim never thought he’d see someone so emotional over a tibia, but Tim can’t blame the guy. Tim figures he’d be emotional over his own bones too.

The big bones are the easiest. The ribs Tim is extra careful with. The fingers are weirdly like peanut shells in his hand. (He’s not going to eat pb&j for weeks now.) Danny chats the whole time, asking Tim about the world. Tim feels wholly inadequate to catch someone up like that, but when conversation turns to technology Tim settles into a rhythm.

It also lets them figure out that while Danny died just shy of nineteen, he’s apparently spent almost two decades in the ground. He still looks just shy of nineteen. He looks like he should be in the forest for the same reason that Tim is, celebrating the end of one era and the start of the next. Danny should be looking to the future, not mourning it.

It makes Tim pause when he finally unearths Danny’s skull. What would it have been like to see Danny smile? To hear him laugh without that faint echoing quality that he has as a ghost? To touch him?

“I’m sorry,” Tim says and holds out the skull. Danny’s skull.

“Thank you,” Danny whispers. His hands tremble as he reaches out towards the skull. He crumples forward before he can touch it, a sob tearing through him.

“I’ll make sure you’re somewhere nice.

“Thank you.” Danny lets out a breath he doesn’t have and sags forward the last inch. His forehead bumps against the skull.

Then he keeps going forward.

The world explodes into light.

-

“Tim?!”

“Are you sure he’s still alive?”

“You can see him breathing, Bernard.”

“Pulse.”

“Tim!”

Tim gasps awake and blinks rapidly to clear his vision. His friends and sister stand clustered above him. It has gotten dark and their flashlights are blinding.

“You okay?” Cass asks.

“Ow.”

“Yeah, he’s okay,” Steph sighs. “Hey Tim, who the fuck is that?”

“Wha—” Fuck his head hurts. Who the fuck is who?

Oh, the person laying in his arms. The person who’s solid and warm and alive.

Tim starts laughing.

“Okay, maybe a little not okay,” Steph amends.

“Is he ever?” Tim hears Ives mutter.

“Guys,” Tim interrupts them discussing his status once he can breathe again. “This? This is Danny.”

“Being alive again hurts,” Danny mumbles against Tim’s neck and Tim can’t help it, he just starts laughing again.

Being alive does hurt, but fuck if that isn’t wonderful sometimes.

---

AN: So this one got away from me a little but, uh... tada? I was planing to have it all explained more, but once Danny didn't purposefully do it, that didn't fit. Basically all if his frankly absurd powers and as a ghost got jump started by his skull and Tim's lifeforce and tada? 100% pulled some from Tim's Gotham Knights character where he's an awkward little bean who is so not neurotpyical. Him and Bernard taking a vacation to hunt Mothman is from that too.

Anyways, stay delightful, darlings!

[faeriekit]

I feel like you’ll appreciate this flavor of feral brain rot as a true delicacy.

Ghostly Courting 101

1.) When you have someone you like, you politely sneak into their haunt and leave a gift that hints at your identity. If they’re interested, they’ll start hunting for you. If not, it’ll be removed without the other party feeling any societal pressure.

2.) For ghosts who died a violent or wrongful death, one of the most meaningful things you can do is avenge them. Attack their murderer, haunt their negligent doctor, etc. It’s not guaranteed to win their affection, but it’s a hell of a display.

Now, per the laws of unintended consequences, Danny finds Red Hood rearranging his freezer.

It’s 3:00 AM. He just wanted some water. Why is Gotham’s favorite son trying to leave him a fuck off huge casserole?

“Are you trying to propose or something?” Danny asks the liminal.

“Maybe???”

“Ghost weird or fruitloop weird?” Danny snatches his boo-berry ice cream and starts digging for a spoon.

Red Hood takes off his helmet to make sure Danny can see the Eyebrow of Judgment.

“Fruitloop then,” he says between bites. “We haven’t even sparred, and I sure as shit didn’t avenge you or anything.”

Oh. Oh no.

“Hood, why are you blushing?”

He couldn’t make out much from the outraged sputtering, but Danny nearly shat his fucking core out when it clicked.

“Is this about Joker???”

Danny was gonna take the stuttering as a yes.

Cool, cool, cool. He was calm. He was so fucking normal, it was fine, it was fine, it was—

Ancients take him, Danny beat the shit out of this guy’s murderer or something. He basically did a fucking flash mob proposal!

“Why the fuck am I even here?!” Red Hood screamed.

And the other guy’s fucking clueless!

I see, I see.

1: Which casserole. This is important. What casserole could the hindbrain of Jason Peter Todd's ghost instincts think is marriage material?? Is this like a comfort food can-of-cream-of-mushroom based casserole dish or like one of those newfangled sushi bake type things?? What did Jason whip out to prove he's marriage material??

2: What does JASON think is going on?? Did he hunt Danny down?? Did he just wake up in a stranger's apartment with a casserole in his hand?? Did he go to the grocery store with a list in mind or did he get home and realize he (for some reason) had every ingredient to make tuna casserole??

3: Wait. So does this mean that Jason thinks that casseroles are a good enough hint at his identity??? Does some part of Jason think that his most essential and core part of his identity is his tendency towards caretaking?? YO—

4: It's in a vintage pyrex. Look me in the eyes. This is not just Pyrex it's gotta be the old style pyrex that doesn't shatter in the oven without a pan underneath it. I am a connoisseur of white people culture and this is deeply important to me. It could even be one of the patterned ones. This is part of the gesture.

5: Danny is emotionally moved and it sucks considering that this was a complete accident

6: Jason is emotionally moved and has no idea what the fuck is going on. He wakes up at his safehouse one morning with bridal magazines in his hands which he apparently bought himself?? He's going insane. Is he cursed?? Did that twink who kicked the Joker's ass curse him??????? Curse him into...matrimony???????????????????

[ms-demeanor]

i’m curious what your opinion is on the finer points of the case mentioned in the JSTOR post you reblogged earlier. the two sources in the post say that JSTOR didn’t press charges against him and had already settled with him by the time he killed himself. from what i read on wikipedia, the concern seems to be that JSTOR complied with a subpoena, which i don’t believe they have a choice to ignore? if anything it seems like the us government had reason to want him dead for wikileaks and public court records reasons, so they took a terms of use violation and blew it up into a dozen federal crimes.

is there more context i should be aware of? i have no particular affection or malice for JSTOR but the sources i found don’t exactly implicate the database or its employees in murder.

That's from page 175 of this document. This line: "The activity noted is outright theft and may merit a call with university counsel, and even the local police, to ensure not only that the activity has stopped but that - e.g. the visiting scholar who left - isn't leaving with a hard drive containing our database" is where I think the culpability starts.

If someone is downloading 1000s of articles (what seems like reasonable threshold for us to take action), what's wrong with us - or the university in collaboration with us - alerting the cyber-crimes division of law enforcement and initiating an investigation, having cop search dorm room and try to retrieve any hard drive that contains our content, etc. Our content is extraordinarily valuable and hard to replicate by the sweat of one's brow, but can be duplicated by savvy hackers and who knows what they want to do with the content?

Page 379: "Does the university contact law enforcement? Would they be willing to do so in this instance?

From page 1296:

I think the important thing to note here is that JSTOR had worked with MIT and had plans in place to prevent future similar downloads, but remained focused on identifying the person responsible for the downloads and ensuring that their data was deleted.

"I might just be irked because I am up dealing with this person on a Sunday night, but I am starting to feel like they need to get a hold of this situation right away or we need to offer to send them some help (read FBI).

And there it is. Page 3093 of the document.

JSTOR can hem and haw about it all they want, but you can't un-call the cops.

MIT was working with JSTOR on preventing future incidents of pirating, but JSTOR repeatedly said that they weren't going to let it go, that it was unacceptable to drop the issue, that they were going to continue to pursue the pirate.

You can scroll through the document and see the JSTOR tech department and abuse team talking about Swartz as a script kiddie, and a hacker. You can see someone talking about how this was real theft - making the comparison to stealing books even while admitting that piracy doesn't close others out of access.

You can see the thread starts with a joke about punching someone in the face for hacking their system, and includes the tech team ominously considering whether they should threaten the MIT librarians with the FBI.

There's something really important to note here which I don't think that people who aren't PRETTY DEEP into hackery shit aren't aware of: US law enforcement is absolutely rabidly feral about prosecuting hackers. People may be more aware of this now because of Chelsea Manning and Edward Snowden (and perhaps a bit on tumblr because of maia arson crimew), but people who work in tech and who are in infosec - like the people joking about calling the FBI in these emails - would be aware of the bonkers disproportionate punishments faced by hackers. And knowing that, they kept pushing and pushing and pushing for identification of the hacker. They kept digging with MIT, they kept saying that simply preventing future incidents wasn't enough.

Early in the exchange someone from JSTOR asked "what's wrong with us - or the university in collaboration with us - alerting the cyber-crimes division of law enforcement and initiating an investigation, having cop search dorm room and try to retrieve any hard drive that contains our content, etc." and the answer is what happened to Aaron Swartz.

It is absolute bullshit for JSTOR to say "we arrived at a solution privately and didn't want to press charges" after law enforcement has gotten involved with a hacking case, especially one where they're talking about "real theft" and are attempting to quantify and emphasize the amount that was "stolen" from them.

The *public* may believe that private individuals or institutions are the ones who "press charges" but that's simply not the case. It's prosecutors who decide whether or not to go ahead with charges; they do it based on what cases they think they can win and what their office's perspective is on the crime. When you hear about people choosing to press charges it simply means that they decided to tell the prosecutor they wanted the case to go forward. It's up to the prosecutor whether or not that happens.

And the tech team at JSTOR had to know that law enforcement wasn't just going to wag a finger at an academic hacker.

There's a parallel here that happens sometimes when people have their identities stolen by their parents. If you mom takes out a credit card in your name, that's identity theft. That's fraud. That's illegal. If you reach the age of 25 and realize that your credit is ruined because your mom has been defaulting on cards in your name, you've got two choices to fix that: one is to accept the debt and pay it off and build up credit, and the other is to report the identity theft - which will end up with your mom in prison for a decade or so. Ruin your own personal finances, or your mom goes to jail for ruining your finances. So if you find out that your mom stole your identity you can't just call the cops to pressure her into transferring the debt to her name or something. That's not an option. The cops are not a threat to wave over people, they are not a way to get people to fall in line or act right. They aren't someone you can send to a college student's dorm room to retrieve a hard drive and have the matter drop.

When you call the cops on someone you are sending the full force of the law after them, and the full force of the law falls really heavily on hackers, and how heavy that blow can be is something that the JSTOR team must have been aware of when they were making snide comments about calling the FBI because they were frustrated with the noncommittal responses they were getting from librarians.

Ultimately it was the carceral state that killed Aaron Swartz, but they would not have been involved if JSTOR didn't think that what he did constituted theft.

Taking an *EVEN LARGER* step back from that, the idea that information can be owned and locked behind a paywall is what killed Aaron Swartz, someone who fought for information to be free.

Like. JSTOR is a licensing company. At the end of the day, cute social media posts and all, they're the same as the RIAA and ASCAB. They exist to extract a fee from people attempting to access information.

Aaron Swartz and all that he stood for are an existential threat to their core function.

Are JSTOR's hands as dirty as the federal prosecutors? Absolutely not. But they operate on a model that puts them in opposition to open information activists and it ended up with a hammer falling on Aaron Swartz that they dropped.

[solitaryearthperson]

It's Time

Summary: When Hannibal visits you, you must make an important decision.

(The reader is 18+ and is gender-neutral. The ethnicity/race is preferably black/person of color.)

takes place towards the end of episode 2x13 "Mizumono."

I hope he's okay, you wondered as you rushed up to your front door, holding the handle of your umbrella tightly while trying to dig into your pocket for your key. Hannibal had been acting weird for a while now. At first, you thought it was his work (and after hours work) getting to him along with Will getting close to exposing him, but there was something else now. He was always careful and confident about how he disposed of any evidence of his affairs, and the time spent between you were filled with no stress or frustrations, just luxury cooking and relaxation. But now that has changed. When he spent time with you now, he seemed to no longer be relaxed and confident, and instead was always on his guard. It was something you weren't used to seeing on him.

As you finally pulled your keys out, you felt your phone in your pocket and was quickly reminded of what you first needed to do when you go inside: check your phone. While having dinner with some old friends, you had felt your phone vibrating with texts over and over. Every now and then, when you checked to see who the sender was, you saw that few of them were from Hannibal, and were very cryptic.

Holding your door key, you tried to put it in the lock when you noticed your door was already slightly ajar.

Did someone break in my house, you wondered, slowly pushing the door open wider. Stepping inside, you tried to be quiet as you closed the umbrella, shaking off the rainwater outside, before gripping it tightly in your hand. Taking quiet steps, you first walked to your living room, holding the umbrella tightly in your hand, ready to fight the intruder if you had to, only to find it empty. Letting out a sigh, you ran your eyes across the room, looking for anything out of the ordinary, but found none.

Maybe they're hiding somewhere else, you wondered, then turned to make your way to your room, holding your umbrella upon as if it was a baseball bat.

If they're too big, I'll call the police, then Hannibal, you thought, stopping outside your closed bedroom door with your heart beating fast.

Just as you thought up the doctor's name, his voice spoke up from the other side of the door. "It is me, love."

Sighing relieved, you instantly dropped your umbrella on the ground, then opened the door, ready to greet him, only to find the man standing next to your bed, clothes already laid out, while still naked and soaking wet.

"Hannibal!" You yelled in shock, trying to divert your eyes. You had seen him naked plenty of times, but you still tried to be respectful. "W-What's going on? Why're you here?" Never had Hannibal ever broke into your house, even when you found out about his peculiar diet. When asked, he told you that he considered it 'rude.'

"Forgive me for breaking in, but I needed to quickly wash myself and inform you that it is time."

At that you looked back to him and found that he'd already put on his boxers and was now putting on his pants.

"It's time?"

"It's time," he repeated, his voice neutral.

Oh shit, you thought, realizing what he meant. It had been a while back, but you and him had discussed what to do in case he was ever found out. Shit...Will must've actually did it.

"Why'd you come here to shower?"

"If you plan to come with me like you promised, then I'll tell you," he said, grabbing a fresh white button shirt and putting it on next. "If you've changed your mind, then I'll say my goodbye and leave you. Have you?"

Have I? You wondered. You weren't a killer like Hannibal, at least not yet, but you still knew what he's done, and continued to be by his side through it all. You've ate his food knowing what it was and never felt guilty after. I am technically a killer by association. If the FBI can't arrest him, then they'll definitely arrest me...Do I want to leave him though? Looking at him, patiently buttoning up his shirt as you silently contemplated your decision, you noticed how his hair was still wet and his movements were slow and calm as if he wasn't a man that the FBI would be soon having a nation-wide manhunt over. He was a killer, but you loved him, and after all the time you've spent with him, you still weren't sure whether an individual like him was capable of love or not. He's let me live all this time, so he definitely feels some type of fondness for me, you reasoned.

"I think-"

As bad as it may sound, no one has ever come close to giving me what I need like he has. No one's made me smile, laugh, or even pleasured me like he has.

"I'll pack as fast as I can."

"Ten minutes. We're going to leave the country."

"Where're we going?" You asked, watching as he picked up a neck tie from the bed, and began wrapping it around his neck.

"Italy. Florence."

[kokonoiis]

tattoo canvas── ❝ just like the tattoo you just got, being a part of bonten is was lifetime decision. ❞

Ⅰ. tokyo revengers ft. BONTEN. s. manjiro, h. ran, h. rindou, kakucho, k. hajime, a. takeomi, s. haruchiyo & gender neutral reader ! Ⅱ. drabble / 1.9k wc Ⅲ. tw. blood mention, pain, embarrassment, tears, sfw nudity, sfw but horny undertones, sanzu being cruel to reader as he tattoos reader, cursing, name calling ( bitch ), mention of death / corpses / killing, sadism & masochism, power play if you squint, pain with little comfort, small mention of drugs ( sanzu. ), mention of mocchi but i forgot about him deadass Ⅳ. a/n. i took getting the bonten tattoo and i gave it horny undertones because that's who i am as a person. it's sfw but ,,, well, you know. they're sadistic little shits who love seeing other people in pain. and that's okay, that's what i'm here for. strong warning to read the tw's they might be important this time bestie.

" can this bitch stop fuckin' squirmin' ? " you could hear sanzu's voice cut through your thoughts and the sound of the tattoo gun whirling that made your head spin a little bit. you felt a little pathetic, around all of these important men, shirtless and sat in a dirty old metal chair in the warehouse where a few men lost their lives because of you today. your hand was covering your chest, keeping the skin taunt for sanzu as he hovered over you in between your spread legs.

" hey, that bitch just caught the traitors and killed them all, you should be thankful they were doing your job, " ran's almost cheery voice hummed from somewhere behind you, leaning in forward as he inspected your face. you were trying to keep it together, you really were, but your entire body was shaking from the pain of the tattoo needle repeatedly going into the delicate skin of the center of your chest, and it didn't help that it was sanzu of all people who was doing your tattoo. sanzu, who was most definitely doped up and seconds away from passing out at any given moment.

with a scrunched up face, you tore open one of your eyes to see kokonoi staring down at you, his features unreadable other than a small little smile on his lips. you couldn't be sure of what any of them were thinking, and you'd given up on trying to figure that out a long time ago. " i guess this means mikey's gonna let you into his close ranks, right ? excited about that ? "

entirely unsure whether or not he was just trying to ask you in earnestness, or if he was trying to keep you focused on something other than the sharp, unending pain burning at your chest, you opened your mouth to say something, anything, whether it was a smart retort or just a short answer, but the only thing that came out was a small whimper that came from deep within your throat. you could hear laughter spread throughout the men. even sanzu himself had to stop what he was doing to laugh at pitiful you were right now. you, who was supposed to be so dangerous, couldn't even handle a little tattoo.

" that was actually kind of cute, " rindou haitani chuckled softly as he teased you, squeezing in between his brother and kokonoi to get a look at you. " they're actually really cute when they cry out like that. " something about the way that he said that snapped something within you, or maybe it was the pain of sanzu digging a little too deep into your skin, threatening a blowout even though he said he had done this for a few of the other members and mikey gave the go ahead, and you couldn't stop yourself from feeling the hot tears form in your eyes, your bottom lip wobbling as you squeezed your eyes shut so you wouldn't cry as bad. you were crying, you were really crying like a poor little school kid.

" they're crying ? " if you didn't know any better, you'd really think that kakucho almost sounded worried for you, but no one there had any intention of stopping sanzu from finishing your tattoo. this was something that all bonten executives had to go through, almost like an initiation of sorts, and of course you were no exception to this case. but it didn't help that you were shirtless, and you could feel the eyes of seven men staring at your body, taking in the sight before them. a few seemed to be enjoying your pain far, far too much, but you were in no position to reprimand them at this very moment, not when you could barely get out a sentence without whimpering.

takeomi lit a cigarette, tapping his foot almost impatiently as he listened to a few of his coworkers coo over you, sounding more than a little annoyed that he was still here and not half way home right now. you were the one getting stabbed repeatedly by sanzu and he was the one who was upset ? that was just typical of takeomi. but infuriating nonetheless. " aren't you almost done, sanzu ? how long does it take to tattoo someone ? "

" i have to do it right ! " sanzu argued back, his voice dragging on at the last word, stopping only for a moment to wipe away the spilled ink from his masterpiece. " and this is their first tattoo, they're not exactly sitting down for me the best right now, you know ? "

" maybe you're just not the best when it comes to tattooing someone, " ran joked underneath his breath, and you swore you could feel the anger emanating from sanzu, but he was forced to keep quiet as he continued to draw permanently on your skin. you really didn't know what you were going to do if they started arguing while in the middle of your tattoo, but you were also crying too hard to really notice the bickering going on around you. " but you're almost done, so you can breathe easy in a bit. "

" until we pull out the alcohol, " rindou joked, earning a chuckle from his brother, while kakucho sat his hand on your shoulder from the side of your chair, leaning down slightly.

" you're alright, " he mumbled, and you could feel yourself wanting to hiccup from how heavy you had been crying, the tears flowing down your cheeks in a way that you couldn't stop them even if you wanted to. you wanted to kick your feet and thrash about, but you were forcing your muscles to tense up and feel like lead so you didn't do something like that and fuck up the tattoo or, worse, elongate this process even more than it already was.

" yeah, you're almost there, " kokonoi joined in to comfort you from behind you his hand ghosting over your neck, holding your chin and tilting your head back. " just a little more. you can take it, right ? just a little more, and then you're done. "

" n-no, " you finally managed out, shaking your head adamantly. there was no way you could do this, it hurt way too much, but at the same time, it's not like you were given a choice in the matter, anyways. the tattoo was already started, all you could do was finish it now. it felt like your skin was on fire, the pain was so bad you involuntarily shook from it. you couldn't even take any deep breaths, forced to take quick, shallow breaths, making you feel almost lightheaded and claustrophobic in the musty warehouse; the scent of blood never truly gone from this entire place and filling your nostrils.

" pathetic.. " sanzu muttered, shaking his head as he looked up at you through his long lashes, although your eyes were trained on the sickeningly sweet face of kokonoi, as if he would come to your rescue or save you from this. the haitani brothers seemed to revel in your pain, while kakucho and kokonoi aimed to give you some semblance of comfort. and sanzu ? he was making it worse on purpose. " you wanna be part of bonten and you can't even take a little needle ? you're miserable, really. "

" maybe we should toughen you up, " rindou agreed, his voice holding a hint of playfulness as if he were just teasing about something typical, although it was much less of a serious suggestion and much more of a tease aimed towards you. " some pain practice could be good, you know ? can't have you squealing if you get caught by the cops and they decide to torture you. "

" we can do so, so much worse than the cops, " ran laughed softly, and you could hear his footsteps as he walked away from the rest of the bonten executives. finally, after a moment, ran's voice spoke up again, this time further away, carried by the echoing of the warehouse. " boss, the tattoo is done. "

as if ran announcing it to mikey was the sign sanzu was looking for, he pulled the tattoo gun away and turned it off, standing up straight and sitting it down on the roller cart beside him. " it's gonna be cold and then painful. don't be a bitch about it. " was all that sanzu said to warn you as he grabbed a wet rag, cleaning off the spilled ink from your chest. the coldness shocked you, causing you to jump up a little bit, and you felt kakucho's hand on your shoulder tighten just slightly.

then, completely out of the blue, sanzu squirted the isopropyl alcohol directly onto your chest from the bottle, before wiping it off with some soaked gauze. you gasped, letting out a truly pathetic little scream as he cleaned the area almost too harshly for you. you'd been told that the alcohol hurt a thousand times worse than the actual tattoo itself, but it still managed to completely take your breath away, especially with sanzu's cruelty. kokonoi's hand moved from your chin to your cheek, gently wiping the tears that fell from your eyes. the act itself was so much kinder compared to the spinning in your head, almost enough to make you forget about everything around you. you wanted to nuzzle into his hand and cry, but you stopped yourself from doing that.

" sit up straight, " rindou's voice cut through to remind you, and you to your eyes away from kokonoi to look up at him, realizing that mikey was on his way, the footsteps of two men slowly echoing a few yards away from you. you picked yourself up, straightening up as you tried to make yourself look even remotely in control of yourself. you knew without looking that your face was red and your eyes were puffy, and there was a layer of sweat that thoroughly coated your skin, in part because there was no air conditioning in the warehouse. you looked miserable, that much you could already tell. but hopefully mikey approved of the tattoo.

kakucho and kokonoi stood up straight as well, stepping back away from you to be in line with takeomi and the haitani brothers. you wondered for a moment where mocchi was, and if he was going to be coming back for a few more bodies for the rest of you to dispose of. mikey walked around from behind your chair, moving sanzu so he stood in between your spread legs as well, admiring the scrutinizing tattoo on your chest.

" you whine a lot, " mikey pointed out simply, his dead eyes flicking from your chest to your face, and then back down. " but the tattoo is done and it's not that shaky. you can put your shirt back on now. "

reaching for the fabric you had sat in your lap, you felt something drip down from your chest, and when you looked down, you saw a line of your own blood fall from the tattoo down your stomach, before soaking into your pants. " it's gonna bleed a little, " ran mentioned, as if hearing your unspoken surprise. " don't worry about it. "

" welcome to the inner ranking of bonten, " kakucho gave you a look, his eyebrows knitted together in concentration. " pray you don't disappoint. "

you figured, just like the tattoo you just got etched permanently into your skin, being a part of bonten was a lifetime decision. there was no going back after this, just finding a way to move forward with all of the blood on your hands, even if it's your own. you had an odd feeling in the pit of your stomach, but as you threw on your shirt and shakily stood up from the chair to approach the men, you refused to acknowledge it.

──kokonoiis 2024

[todomochi-uwu]

Who. (2/?) J. Y & S. M

Pairing: Poly! Jeong Yunho x reader x Song Mingi

Genre: Angst, Smut

Warnings: This content is for a mature audience

Synopsis: You can't remember when was the last time you spent time with them, the last "I love you", the last time any of them kissed you.

Other chapters: Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee ☕

Yunho kept checking the file in his hands, reading over and over the same words not being able to register anything, his head was all over the place, between the tiredness, the stress and his broken heart, concentrating was proving to be impossible.

“Careful, Jeong. If you think any harder your head might catch on fire.” Said Lee Minho entering the doctor’s launch with an empty coffee mug.

“Piss off, Minho.” He didn't turn his eyes from the paper, determined to make it work no matter how much it took.

Minho’s eyes focused on the taller man in front of him, his skin was paler than normal, a slight blue tint covered it; his eyes were sunk in their sockets, dark purple bags underneath them; lips dry and crusty; he looked thinner, he looked sick. Yunho and Minho weren’t by any means close, they had spent the entire med school fighting for the top spot in their class; Jeong Yunho had proved to be a real pain in the ass, managing to balance school, work, friends and a fucking three-way relationship while Lee Minho could barely sleep and see his, now, husband.

“Not that I care, Jeong but, are you okay?” Said Minho, leaning against the countertop and waiting for the coffee to be done.

Yunho tossed the folder on the table, completely done. He pressed his fingers against his eyelids, trying to calm the blinding headache he had been carrying around his entire shift. “I don’t think it’s any of your business, Lee.”

The cat-eyed doctor shrugged, not wanting to dig any further, he tried. He took his mug and made a beeline straight to the door, but he couldn’t help but look back at his school rival, and what he saw shocked him a bit. His shoulders were slumped, and shaking, his face in between his hands, and small but heavy sobs left his mouth. A suffering Yunho was something he had never expected to see, and while he thought it would bring him joy, it just made him feel weird. He would have to ask Jisung what was going on, he was friends with Mingi, and he would have to know.

______________________________________________________________

Mingi was not doing any better at work. He fell asleep on his desk, barely paid attention at meetings, and was hostile to his co-workers and possible clients. Jongho was done with attitude, he had been patient, as much as he could, and he tried to understand the situation, but it was becoming too much.

“Mingi, I am begging you, please go home, you cannot continue like this. Get some sleep, eat and come back when you are better.” Jongho said as softly as possible, not wanting to trigger another fight with the dirty blonde lawyer in front of him.

“Jongho, I’m okay. I would rather just be working, there’s nothing to do at home anyways.”

“Mingi…” He was interrupted.

“Jongho, I won't repeat myself, leave me alone.” He turned his chair away from the younger lawyer.

That was it. He was done.

Jongho slammed his hand against the desk, startling Mingi, “Listen to me, Mingi, I get that you are sad, okay? I get it. But you cannot come here and act like a fucking dick and expect everyone to be okay with it. We tried to be nice and give you a couple of weeks to recover, but so far, we have lost two important clients because of your attitude and you pissed off three more. I’m sorry she left, but I highly doubt she would come back if she saw the mess you’ve become. Yelling at people, turning work in late, getting drunk, fighting with Yunho, do you think she wants that? Because I highly doubt it.” He jabbed his finger into Mingi’s chest. “Get. Your. Shit. Together.” And with that he left the office, slamming the door on his way out.

Mingi sighed, taking off his tie. He closed his eyes trying to calm down, but it seemed impossible. Anxiety had been tormenting him for almost a month now, and it didn’t seem like it would stop any time soon. He misses you. A lot. He just didn’t know how to function without that missing piece. Nothing was working right now, his head was always a mess, always going back to that night, trying to remember every moment he neglected you; he was trying to balance out his pain and stress to not mess up his relationship with Yunho as well; while also trying to balance out work as to not get fired, or at least not to piss off Jongho even more, but nothing is working. He misses you, and without you, nothing in him works.

______________________________________________________________

Chan was in the kitchen bar working; his heavy and expensive headphones sat on the top of his head while he was nodding along to the rhythm of his last track. He kept replaying it to try and figure out what was missing, what he could change or fix, but he just couldn’t concentrate. Flashbacks kept showing up in his head, replaying again and again, memories of his college days, memories of the time he fell in love with his now roommate and failed to do something about it.

It was the winter semester; the campus was covered in snow and everyone found refuge inside the library. Chan was planning to go there and work on a paper that was due that same night, but once he saw the amount of people inside the building, he decided he wouldn’t be able to work there. And just as he was about to leave, he saw Hongjoong sitting on a couch in the corner, next to him was something that made the producer’s mouth dry. A woman so beautiful his eyes couldn’t believe what they were seeing, his brain couldn’t comprehend what was happening, his feet moved on their own in that direction, he needed to talk to her, to know her name, to introduce himself. His friend got up as soon as he saw him, greeting him and introducing her. Y/n. That was her name, a name Chan would never be able to forget.

A friendship was established that day. You would start by hanging out with Hongjoong, going out to eat, watch a movie or to a party; but soon it became just the two of you. Hanging out at each other’s dorms, he showed you some of his music, and you showed him some of her stories; at first, he would walk you back to her room every night, but after some time you would stay over, “it’s easier” you said. One fateful night, Christopher finally made a move, giving you a quick peck on the lips while listening to your favourite artist’s latest album, the largest seconds of his life were right after, waiting for your reaction; you ended up fucking on top of his desk, pushing all his books, and cd’s to the floor.

That was the way the next months were spent, hanging out and finding any and every excuse to have sex, but never giving a title to what you were. Chan just assumed you weren’t ready for that kind of commitment, convincing himself he was fine with what you had, not admitting he was just too much of a coward to ask if you felt the same as him.

“I just don’t understand him, Jisung. One day he acts as if we were a couple, and the next he calls me his best friend. Friends don’t treat each other the way we do, friends don’t do what we do.”

“Maybe he isn’t ready for that kind of commitment, he would just rather stay as friends with benefits.” Jisung pat her on the back, trying to comfort her.

“But I don’t want to be just friends with benefits.” You pouted her lips.

“Hey, come on, don’t be sad. I'll tell you what, why don’t you come with me to Wooyoung’s party this Friday? You’ll have fun and forget, at least for a bit, about Chan.”

Christopher’s first mistake was introducing you to Jisung. The second one was allowing you to befriend him. And his last, but most fatal one was not going to that party. Why? Because Yunho and Mingi were there.

“Y/n, this my friend Mingi. Mingi, this is Y/n.” And just like that, it was over before it could even begin. That same night Mingi had introduced you to Yunho, and they both were heads over heels for you, they asked you to hang out the very next day and while at first you were confused as to how it would work, they won you over, pushing completely out the idea of Chan off your head.

He remembered the first time you talked about them, he thought you had just made out with one of them at the party, and while he wasn’t exactly happy about it, he could let it slide, no idea of what was about to come. Texts left unanswered; calls that went to voicemail; and long nights waiting for you to show up, but at some point, it became clear, that you were not just sleeping around with them, you were in love. That very same night he went out and got drunk out of his mind, only being able to get back home after Changbin and Minho found him trashed on a bench in front of their building. He blamed himself, if he hadn’t been so scared, if he had just tried, you would be his, and he promised himself that if that door ever opened again, he would be there. But as time went on, it became more apparent that would never happen… until now.

He kept repeating over and over to himself that you weren’t ready, that you still love them and that you were still mourning that relationship, but he couldn’t help himself, he wanted you.

The last month he had been in some kind of hell in heaven. When you first had shown up, he was pissed off beyond comprehension, how could they let this happen? How could they treat you like that? He had spent every second of his existence since he met you, loving and worshipping the ground you walk on and they had let you slip away? Unbelievable. But he couldn’t help but see the perks of all of this. He was the one to console you, to build you back up, and through the course of the weeks, you were better.

He would come back home to you cooking, greeting him the second he went in; you telling him about your day or a new show you were watching; you showed him your work and asked his opinion. Everything went back to how it was; it was even better. This is what he had been missing out all this time?

“Good morning, Channie.”

“Welcome back, Chan. I made some spaghetti; I hope you like it.”

“Hey, Chan. How was work?”

Oh, blissful domesticity. But everything was too good to be true. They would show up in the most subtle ways, in the middle of a conversation, in the notifications of your phone, even in the clothes you wore, they still smell like them; your ex-boyfriends were everywhere in his apartment, tormenting him. And, of course, he wasn’t blind, he could see it, your face still showed how heartbroken you were, and he could also hear it at night, small sobs escaped your mouth, whispering their names again and again.

Yunho…

Mingi…

Never his name.

______________________________________________________________

Jisung had just arrived home, his hands full of grocery bags balancing them while trying to open the door, and just as he was about to spill everything on the ground, a soft hand came to his rescue.

“Jesus, Sungie be careful.” The person behind him giggled.

“Y/n?” His eyebrows furrowed, confused, but he still leaned in and hugged you. “What are you doing here? How did you get in the building?”

“Oh, I live here now.”

“Mingi gave up his rent control apartment? Is he crazy?”

“Um… not exactly.” You scratched the back of your head.

“Okay, come inside and tell me what’s going on.”

…

“And that’s how I ended up living with Chan.” You took a small sip of the hot chocolate Jisung had prepared.

“Have you talked to them?”

You shook your head.

Jisung’s arms were folded against his chest, his eyes looking directly at yours, not sure what to say, “So it’s over between you and them?”

“I don’t know, Hannie. I love them, so much it hurts, but I don't think they feel the same way, they act as if I'm not even there, as if I'm not important to them.” You lay down on the kitchen table, controlling your breathing so you won't start crying.

“Well, that’s just not true.” He put his hand on top of your head, petting you, “Mingi can be an idiot sometimes and the same goes for Yunho, but they love you, baby. From the very first moment they met you, they have loved you, maybe they just lost their tracks for a moment, but they will come back to you.” He kissed you on the forehead, “and if for some reason they don’t, I will be there to help you pick up the pieces.”

______________________________________________________________

Minho arrived late at night, completely done with work and with stubborn patients who thought they knew more than him because they read an article on the internet. Jisung ran to the front door as soon as he heard the jiggling of the keys, ready to receive his grumpy husband. He accompanied him into the kitchen, where he served him a hot plate of his favourite food and told him about this day.

“I found the chips you like on sale so I bought a couple, I also bought the ingredients I was missing for that ramen you want to try, oh and I tried that juice I’ve been craving, but it wasn’t that good.” Minho couldn’t keep up with the number of things that came out of his husband’s mouth, but he was happy to listen. “Oh, oh my god I almost forgot, guess who I ran into?”

“Who?” He said while shoving a spoonful of soup into his mouth.

“Y/n, she broke up with Mingi and Yunho, and she’s staying with Chan.”

Minho choked, coughing aggressively, not believing the words that came out of Jisung’s mouth. Everything made sense now, that’s why the puppy-like doctor had been so miserable the last couple of weeks. And why Chan had been avoiding him lately. He got up and headed towards the door, “Give me a second, love I’ll be right back.”

He made his way down the hall, he was in no mood to do this, but it had to be done. He had witnessed first-hand how completely devastated had Chan been after you had broken his heart (not that he thinks you did it on purpose), how hard it was to get him to shower, to go to work, how long it took him to go back to normal, and he feared it would happen again. He pounded on the door, not caring if the neighbours next door complained. The door opened harshly, a sleep-deprived Christopher on the door side, looking at him as if he had grown to heads.

“Min, it’s two in the morning, what the hell are you doing here?”

The doctor grabbed him by the arm and shoved him into the wall next to the door, “You are going to explain to me exactly what you think you are doing.”

“I'm not doing anything. She’s my friend, I want to help her move…”

He interrupted, “What? Move on? Were you planning to be her saviour so she would fall in love with you? Bang Chan, she’s been engaged to them for almost a year now, they are just going through a rough patch…”

“They broke up.”

“They will get back together, it's more than obvious, they are in love.” He whispered yelling, he was worried, did Chan think he had a chance?

“They neglected her, Minho they took her for granted, I would…”

“Chan, listen to me, she’s not in love with you, whatever you two had it's over, it's been over for years, for Christ's sake.” He shook his shoulders, trying to get some sense into him.

“I know what I'm doing.”

“You clearly, don’t.” He pushed his friend back into his apartment and went back to his. His entire body ached, but anxiety filled his head, not letting him rest.

______________________________________________________________

“So, she finally dumped your ass, good for her honestly,” Minho said as he entered Yunho’s office. The latter one looked up at him, the look in his eyes completely dead. “Geez, you look like shit.”

“What do you want, Minho? I'm busy, I don’t have time for your bullshit.”

“I know where she is.”

“What?” Yunho looked at him with wide-open eyes. “Don’t you fucking dare lie to me about this.” He got up and grabbed Lee by the collar and shook him, “How the fuck do you know that?”

“Because I saw her.” Little white lie, but he technically did know where she was. He pushed him back, “I don’t like you, Yunho, at all. But I know what it's like to be in your shoes, so I’ll make you a deal, you get your shit together and I might just tell you where she is.”

______________________________________________________________

Yunho’s hands kept trembling, he had barely been able to drive home without crashing. He wanted to scream, to cry, to tell Mingi what Minho had told him, all at the same time, but he also thought, what would he say? How could he apologize? Would she take them back? He went into the house, Mingi was lying on the couch, a book in his hands and glasses sitting on his face, his eyebags and skin tone resembling his boyfriend’s, he turned to look at him, noticing how fidgety and dishevelled he looked.

“Are you okay? Did something happen at work?” He got up and approached Yunho, he grabbed his face in his hands and caressed his cheeks.

“Um…” he bit off some of the skin in his lip, not knowing how to deliver the news, his head couldn’t put the words together, not even able to process them. “Minho told me something today.”

“Ugh, that asshole. I don’t know how Jisung married that guy, he's such a nice guy and Minho is so…”

Yunho interrupted him, not able to hold it in any longer, “Minho says he knows where Y/n is staying.”

Mingi felt how the air left his body, all thoughts abandoning his mind in the same way, tears were quick to rush to his eyes, “What?”

“Yeah, he saw her and knows where she’s been staying.” He paused to order his next words, “And he said he will tell me if we manage to get our shit together.”

Mingi took him into his arms and squeezed him till he was out of breath, not being able to contain his happiness. Together they cried and smiled while the thought of everything going back to normal filled them, that was until something crossed their minds at the same time, would you even want them back?

______________________________________________________________

Tag list:

@tunaasan @scuzmunkie

[quillyfied]

Happy Halloween and Happy Ghostfuckers, time to dig into the chest cavity of this episode and not come back out until the next! Another banger of an episode; someone in the Helluva Boss tag called it the Truth Seekers of season 2, and I am so inclined to agree, actually. Equal parts reaction and analysis, and 100% spoilers, like, did that even need to be said?

First: MILLIE MY BELOVED. After a season and a half (over five whole years) of some pretty lukewarm development and attention, having this episode start off with Millie being her happy cheerful self is already such a breath of fresh air, especially given the relentless nonstop personal drama Blitzo and Stolas have been part of for the last couple of episodes. It’s great that this episode is starting after a brief time skip, too; feels more natural for an audience that has had three months to process it all. Watching Millie step right into emotional support is amazing, too, for reasons that have been hinted at before; Happy Campers was so good for her and Moxxie’s characters and I’m prepared to fight about it. Having one of the few women in the cast be relegated to “emotional backbone” doesn’t feel as bad when she’s already expressed insecurity about her importance in life, shown that being an unbelievable badass doesn’t always give her the kind of attention she wants, and isn’t afraid to knock the people in her life down a peg when they aren’t supporting her back. Yes that was just from Happy Campers, and this episode reinforces that with further excellent context. But sshh. We’ll get to that later. Time to watch Loona and Moxxie breaking down because they’re sick of Blitzo’s shit but not to the point of leaving him yet (because they love him too shsshhhshshsh).

Interesting that after a few weeks of moping, NOW is when Blitzo is starting to ramp up his destructive behaviors; what tiny glimpses we were allowed to get in the mission shorts showed a Blitzo that was coping but seemed to be holding it together (you’ll pry the idea that Blitzo’s inability to work the crystal in Mission: Antarctica is directly related to his confidence, not his skill, out of my cold dead rotten hands). This sudden left turn into emptying IMP’s bank accounts and forcing Moxxie and Loona to act out his grief with him appears…new. Maybe lying around eating ice cream and cheese (bro) like a sad sack while watching human television isn’t a new behavior, but the Blitzo-level catastrophic destruction masquerading as retail therapy reads to me as a sudden snap, maybe due to the proximity of a certain lunar cycle. It’s certainly looking on par with running three rings to Wrath and maxing out someone else’s credit cards on shitty horse riding lessons (something that, based on the vague timeline I’ve been able to wrangle out of this godforsaken show, Millie wouldn’t have been present for, though to be fair it’s not like Blitzo ever really has a measured emotional response to anything).

(Viv, if you’re listening, consider this a brief cosmic request for Secretary Stolas to help poor Moxxie with this paperwork. Please. PLEASE. PLEEEEASE.)

I love too that Millie’s approach as default team Emotional Intelligence isn’t to meddle, either, because that also shows maturity on her part; letting the grown ass adults around her handle their shit while still being sweet to them is such a good and necessary component of the IMP team. Hang on having another Millie Feelings Moment while trying to have some sort of chronology here.

…it’s entirely purposeful that Bethany Ghostfucker has Charlie’s hair, right? Because they share a voice actress? Which means…Blitzo has now cosplayed some reference of Charlie…THE STREAMS THEY ARE CROSSING.

I also love how nOTHING could have prepared me for realizing that Blitzo’s outfit in this episode is a cosplay. Of a HUMAN. WHO FUCKS GHOSTS. I don’t know why I am so surprised at how literal the title is; this show continues to both sicken and delight me XD (raunchy humor isn’t my thing and Blitzo was definitely pushing it for me this episode, but also…it’s so nicely balanced with the real emotional breakdowns that I can’t even be mad about it)

Anyway, back to Millie and her Emotional Genius: very glad that she realizes what Blitzo is going through requires a little more babying than usual, and VERY glad that she and Blitzo already have an established system for when he needs to be babied and she doesn’t initially cave to it (I will be buying that magnet, thanks Spindlehorse). I also love how Millie encourages Loona to step up and help Moxxie (who also desperately needs some help, but Millie really can’t focus on him right now because she needs to focus on the root of the problem, which is Blitzo), essentially through begging but also just by being her usual kind self. And that quiet little moment of Millie using Loona’s name for maybe the first time ever is just…mwah. Chef’s kiss. No notes.

Sidetracking again to wonder why the subject of ghosts is just now coming up when Blitzo literally has an alert light labeled “Ghost.” Like. I feel like Blitzo believing in ghosts while Millie staunchly does not is such a good dynamic to play with, but also why is this the first that it’s being addressed. XD Okay, I get it, throwaway gag from the first episode that is becoming relevant now and maybe didn’t have that much thought put into it when it was first made, but I can dream. Or pick relentlessly at tiny details while completely missing the bigger picture. It’s fine. I’m fine.

What I’m not fine with is how Blitzo can completely trash the van in nearly the same way two episodes in a row (assuming that IMP going on the run is happening in Mastermind, which is far from a given, but phwoar would it be maximum emotional impact, to have an episode showing IMP finally moving into their shitty office and how much it means to them, only to have it ripped out from under them the next episode LOLOLOLOL). I’m mostly irritable that my prediction was untrue :P Although I am glad that the prediction that this hotel guy was Leviathan was disproven, because let’s be honest, that would make no sense. Some rando infestor demon, though? Totally on point. Also makes sense why he “falls” for Blitzo’s bullshit disguise; he knows they’re imps because he’s also a demon. Something new to play with. Though it’s interesting that even when Rolando goes rooting through Blitzo’s head, he still doesn’t seem to know either of their real names. Informational blind spot? Would make sense, with how the fight goes down, but later. Later.

Side note to wheeze with relief because when I first watched this episode, it was without subtitles, and I thought Igor was wheezing Blitzo’s name. Him saying “bitch” makes more sense actually. That’s fine. It was much creepier thinking he was saying Blitzo’s name actually XD

Listen. Listen. We know that Blitzo sort of self-medicates with sex and sexual humor. We know that he’s loaded his confidence eggs into the competent at sex basket, because his competence at emotions has a body count (literal). Much like how it was painful to watch Blitzo operating at maximum asshole behavior at the beginning of Apology Tour what with his relentless insistence at returning his relationship with Stolas to safter, sexier ground…watching Blitzo try to distract himself with a sexually charged silly new hobby is equally painful. Because for him, sex is surface level, because anything deeper is dangerous (lord above please ignore the innuendo IGNORE IT). If sex happens to come with emotional attachment, he ruthlessly severs it. But Blitzo being horny isn’t the problem, it’s his disregard for the people that get caught up in his horniness (and he certainly knows how to weaponize his raunchy humor and sexual charisma when it suits him). The Scooby Doo antics are hysterical, but watching Millie start to buckle under the strain of indulging Blitzo is as fascinating as it is inevitable. We already know Millie doesn’t have infinite patience even for Moxxie. So to watch her reach her limit with Blitzo when she might be the only person in IMP whom we have never seen snap at him…delicious. Absolutely the best. And GOOD ON HER for snapping at him for cutting her off, which is a thing he does all the time with everyone ever but rarely gets called on (because he’s waltzed off at that point usually).

And, as I dearly hoped, it’s Millie that starts to really get through to Blitzo, not by being gentle, exactly, but by being her refreshing blunt-not-bludgeoning self. She gives Blitzo the reaming he deserves, but doesn’t belittle him about it; she just points out that his behavior is harmful, draws a boundary, and leaves. Exactly what Blitzo needs…though his brain is certainly going to fuck with him about it first, because lol rejection-sensitive dysphoria being exacerbated by fucked up haunted trauma illusions is a BITCH.

When the gif for this episode dropped and it was Blitzo sliding down a ventilation shaft, I never saw a single other person remark on the dark liquid in the corner of the gif sliding down the shaft after him. I didn’t say anything about it either, just noted it and freaked out quietly every time the gif passed me by. NOW KNOWING THE CONTEXT OF THE DARK SLIDING LIQUID MAKES IT WORSE. I already suspected it was blood (Hellborn blood to be exact). I did not suspect that it would be THAT MUCH BLOOD. Though it’s interesting that Blitzo doesn’t recognize it as such, never calls it that, never seems to realize it. So. Maybe it isn’t blood (spoiler: it’s not blood, I am just dumb and didn’t realize what it is until a third viewing, good job me), but it sure as hell resembles Hellborn blood enough that I have the heebie jeebs. And the visuals are just SO CREEPY—Blitzo is practically drowning in it as he’s dumped into a waking nightmare, and like. Blitzo is an assassin by trade now, and we know IMP did a lot of in-Hell contracts before switching to corner the Sinner market, so there would ostensibly be a lot of Hellborn blood on his hands, but he doesn’t care about that. A job’s a job. The blood he feels guilty about…well…we know, okay, I won’t insult y’all’s intelligence by rehashing it, because it’s about to be made real damn obvious anyway.

THE HAUNTED MILLIES BEING ALL THE TIMES SHE COULD HAVE DIED IN PREVIOUS JOBS THOUGH. Bless the people smart enough to pick that up and throw that spaghetti at the wall because folks it STICKS, it’s so obvious and SO GOOD. And SUCH a neat little insight into Blitzo’s head, too: he cares SO MUCH about his employees, his family, and it does actually haunt him, how many close calls they’ve had. It does occur to him that his actions affect others. It’s just never bothered him, certainly not to this degree. I fully blame Apology Tour and Verosika for getting him started on considering how his actions have consequences for other people, how he “hurts other people’s fee-fees” but also routinely leads his team into dangerous situations where his mistakes could cost them all. And these phantom (lol f-word) versions of Millie not only driving this home through the visuals, but saying the quiet part out loud, asking Blitzo if he realizes this about himself? If he’s ever loved someone without hurting them? FUCK.

I said so many times I wanted Blitzo broken in half; I have FEASTED, friends, because Blitzo’s issues are bigger than Stolas and if he doesn’t address them, he won’t ever be happy with himself, let alone with anyone else, romantic or platonic. ALSO, feast upon the intersecting themes between Helluva Boss and Hazbin Hotel, because “you think you can change?” immediately put me in mind of “addict trash like you doesn’t change,” which…I believe whole-heartedly is something that Val said to Angel, maybe even said in that moment, but the framing of it and Angel’s character arc made it so clear to me that Val’s words had become Angel’s own. Except Angel started proving him wrong. He started struggling, however small and desperately and weakly, to change who he was, to become someone he actually liked instead of what everyone else wanted and liked. Blitzo is in the same boat. Because both of these shows are so much about how hard it can be to become a better version of yourself, especially in a world that’s set against you being that person, that will hurt you for daring to be better, to be different, to be YOURSELF. What Blitzo is going through right now is the emotional beat-down that every person who has ever wanted to self-improve despite (or maybe even because of) trauma or mental illness puts themself through. If you’ve ever been this mean to yourself and driven yourself to a sobbing panic attack, clap your hands (clap clap).

And then the low blow. The tearjerker. The cry-maker.

Teenage Blitzo running to his mother. Calling out for Mama. Telling her about the scary dream he was having. AND SHE COMFORTS HIM. She never turns on him, she’s never angry, she never even flinches as she’s burning alive in front of him. Ghosts aren’t real (sad) and we aren’t ever going to meet Tilla except through other people’s eyes, most likely Blitzo’s, but that double-edged knife of knowing that Blitzo both was so loved and loved so hard back, only to be the one who got her killed…we’ve known as an audience for a while now that this is the biggest burden on Blitzo’s soul, the one thing he may never forgive himself for and can’t conceive of anyone else forgiving, because it’s what’s Fundamentally Wrong with him: he makes everyone’s lives worse. How can he love when he is so completely destruction incarnate? How can he reach out to Moxxie, to Millie, to Loona, to Stolas, to Fizz, when the person dearest to him crumbled to ash in his hands and it’s his own fault?

How can Millie look at him and tell him he’s wrong, that he made her life better?

Fuck hang on cry break FUCK I forgot to remove my eye makeup before doing this lolololol

Okay. Pivoting to scrutinizing this flashback, because the first thing that is immediately apparent to me (besides how hot Millie and Blitzo are DAMN) is how much older and more tired Millie looks. Millie in particular. We’ve become accustomed to Millie looking a certain way, so the new look is certainly exciting, but it’s the expression that’s really the kicker here. She looks hardened and badass, but so, so tired. She’s tired of just being the muscle. She’s tired of scraping by for a buck, and fewer of them than she deserves. My theory that Wrath is saturated with imps of a similar skill set is correct; my theory that Helluva Boss isn’t going to address the class/race issues they’re drawing on in any meaningful way might yet be disproven. Because Millie doesn’t have horrific family trauma. What she has is what every imp has: systemic oppression and its accompanying insecurities. We got hints of this back in Happy Campers, when she was so thrilled to be the center of attention and important and liked, and NOT for how well she kills people. Now it has further context, and is why Millie being the Emotional Support of the team is so important to her as a character: she never thought she could be anything else. She never let herself believe she could be anything but someone’s underpaid goon that was going to die an early death and be as meaningless as everyone told her she was. Until Blitzo and IMP carved out a space for themselves and moved to THE TOP RING IN HELL. The one where Lucifer lives, the one where the Goetia seem to congregate, the one ring that, despite being a flaming hellhole (lol) that is full of weird dead humans and is constantly being beset by angels at least once a year, is considered the one place imps can’t make their mark. Gosh this episode is so important for making so much of that thinly-veiled subtext all throughout Helluva Boss into text, for underlining Striker’s compliment to Blitzo for making a name for himself by owning his own business, for saying EXPLICTLY AND OUT LOUD that imps aren’t even good enough for the shittiest, most moth-eaten office in Pride.

I’m still not holding my breath on Helluva Boss actually solving anything socially within itself, because that seems like a tall order. But it is no longer too much to ask for Stolas to grapple with some pretty heavy questions about his behavior and his preconceived notions, his internal biases and the ways he has hurt Blitzo in return. SECRETARY STOLAS PLEEEEEASE, I AM BEGGING.

Anyway. Time to drool over the fight choreography, first of this fight between Millie and Blitzo, because it’s GORGEOUS. They have what I was hoping so hard for them to have: fighting as a love language XD Blitzo and Millie understand each other on a pretty instinctual, almost primal level; their fight is a dance, not just because they’re both good at it. It’s an extension of their friendship, or what will become their friendship. Their bodies are their most basic communication tool, Millie often through touch and snuggles, and Blitzo through either fighting or fucking, depending on what’s needed. They both have killer instinct, which Moxxie’s anxiety often chokes out within himself and which Loona hasn’t really had the chance to hone.

I also love that moment before Blitzo tips the pool table, the whole “reputation is everything” “Oh yeah? So what’s your reputation?” Because. BECAUSE!! Millie is an exceptional assassin, but in this fight in particular, she is so different from how she is in the rest of the show. She’s a proper Wrathian imp assassin, angry and hard and relentless. Compare that to the beginning of Ozzie’s, when she scuttles into frame holding an axe in her teeth and screeches about how she’s still so jazzed up, clearly amped and so much more joyful than she is during this flashback. Again, said it at least twice, will say it once more: she looks so exhausted, like she’s burning herself out just to make it. And she isn’t a unique case in that regard by any means. It’s working for Blitzo that makes her unique, that gives her joy in her work instead of making her rely on how other people see her. Sinners already don’t care about her or her feelings; her next meal isn’t contingent on appearing as hardened and badass as possible, it’s on a Sinner having a grudge, which is an exclusive meal ticket that only Blitzo could have weaseled them into.

I also want to point out that this fight between Blitzo and Millie? Pretty well mirrored by the fight between Millie and Rolando!Blitzo. The way Millie blocks him with her forearm, the way she slams him into the wall—those are things Blitzo did to her, back during their first fight. Granted, Millie getting the coolest anime punch-stop of all time is something that’s all hers, because Millie is so special and had no idea until she found a new life. She is the happiest imp there ever was and she kicks no less ass for it.

(WHERE IS MY TIMELINE, IMP WAS AROUND FOR A YEAR BEFORE THEY GOT THE BOOK AND THE OFFICE. Unsure of how long after meeting Loona and Moxxie this meeting with Millie takes place, and this does scramble around the timeline of how long Blitzo had the book before Stolas calls to make the arrangement, and where does Moxxie and Millie’s marriage fit into this? They’ve only been married a year, so probably started dating pretty soon after meeting…still have no idea on when Stolas and Blitzo’s first time happened and how long after that was Loo Loo Land. I will tie myself into knots over this, must stop now.)

Anyway. Putting the fights to bed for the moment, gotta get in on those good good BFF snuggles, which will go immediately into Blitzo’s Trauma: The Movie. After Rolando does the honor of driving home the point that yeah, imps have it real fuckin’ bad in Hell canonically and textually and said out loud and everything, thanks for asking.

…oh. Right. Rolando dissolves into black goo. Blitzo wasn’t crawling through a tunnel of blood. It was a tunnel of Rolando. That’s somehow worse. Ah well. My point about Blitzo’s regrets and visually looking like he’s wading through Hellborn blood stands.

Small detail that’s standing out to me in this episode: how much Blitzo is holding his chest during the Rolando fight. Wondering if he’s cupping the pendant he almost lost, or if he’s injured in the chest pretty badly. Which is SO IRONIC if true, because. Y’know. Feelings. His are hurting.

Gosh this fight with Rolando is so scary, though. We’ve never seen infestor demons before (unless you count the Glam sisters, but they weren’t in their element, so to speak), and the power differential between Rolando and Blitzo and Millie is pretty stark. Different from the fight between Striker and Millie and Moxxie, Striker overwhelms with skill. Rolando is overwhelming with power. Don’t you just hate it when higher-class demons have special powers that reinforce the hierarchy? Bullshit. Anyway. THE FIGHT TAKING PLACE NEAR THE POOL IS SO GOOD. Because why wouldn’t an Envy demon have the water advantage? They’re literally fish people. And it’s TENSE OKAY.

BUT NOT AS TENSE AS BLITZO’S TRAUMA: THE MOVIE IS ABOUT TO BE.

I find it particularly significant that Rolando licks up the scarred side of Blitzo’s neck and then says a few minutes later that Blitzo’s level of insecurity is “intoxicating.” Yeah I imagine he’s super tasty to demons who feed on that kind of thing. See previous horrific trauma hallucination. Which I now have reason to believe wasn’t based entirely in reality; we already know all the Millies didn’t die that way, and now a snapshot of Blitzo finding the pendant in the wreckage. He didn’t watch his mom burn to death, not the way he was forced to watch in this episode. Goddamn. Rolando is an asshole, huh?

The Cash backslap really took me aback, actually, not just because Blitzo flinches away from it. The stills show that Cash does it while holding Blitzo’s still-burned wrist in his other hand, so this is really soon after the fire; one has to wonder if Cash did it because Blitzo caused his mother’s death, or if it’s just for the circus. Hard to get a read on Cash, no idea what his attitude towards Tilla is besides a gleeful willingness to use her to manipulate his son. I suppose I’m also shocked because I never really doubted that Cash probably hit Blitzo at least a little, but…a backhand, to me, reads of casual violence, something that’s done without much thinking about it. The way Stella reared back to backhand Stolas and we know by her shocked expression that he’s never caught her wrist to avoid the impact before. Terrible comparison, by the way, and by terrible I mean great but causing me emotional distress. I hadn’t suspected that Cash was likely just as physically abusive as he was emotionally abusive towards Blitzo. Nice to have the confirmation. I hate it here.

Okay, because I haven’t seen the screenshots anywhere yet: first scene of Millie and Moxxie is from Murder Family when Moxxie unties them. Second…I don’t know, actually, and I’m embarrassed to admit that. Maybe Truth Seekers? I could make the argument for Exes and Oohs if Moxxie was in a wedding dress, but I’m not sure. Any of the many times Blitzo has intruded on their time together, I suppose. And, fun fact: the shots that are playing in Blitzo’s eyes when Rolando forces Blitzo’s eyes open are the ones of Fizz and Verosika in Ozzie’s again. In case that was information you wanted. It’s also upsetting that Loona in LA is part of the reel of Blitzo Thinking Everyone Hates Him, because the fight in Spring Broken at least makes sense to flashback to. Though I do keep forgetting, constantly and with an insistence that infuriates me, that Loona and Blitzo were also having a fight during Seeing Stars and when she kicks him off of her at the end, it’s while Blitzo is apologizing for threatening to replace her.

I find it very interesting that there’s a split-second of Barb that cuts in when the Stolas part of the reel plays; it’s so fast, but right after Blitzo pulls away from Stolas’ hand in Ozzie’s, there’s a second shot of Barb as she’s yelling at him in Happy Campers. Significance? Probably that their separation hurts him just as much as his current one with Stolas, he’s just had more time to try and get used to it. Or represses it more.

Oh hey. Blitzo in his head is back in uniform, crystal and all. Nice. I didn’t even realize it. (…Crystal and all. Like it’s become part of his self-image already. HMMM.)

So interesting that Rolando chooses the most obvious pressure points to try and get to Millie…without realizing that coming out of Blitzo’s mouth, it completely robs them of power BECAUSE of their heart to heart. Millie already knows in her core that Blitzo rejects that image of her, because it’s an image of himself that he also rejects and he refuses to let her wallow in it. Their friendship is built on, well, building each other up in that way. Why in fuck would Millie listen to this asshole wax on and on about how she’s a lowborn inbred hick (what the fuck dude) when he’s currently possessing the guy who helped her break that image of herself? Like. Come on, asshole, use your brain, not your bigotry. But I guess that’s also the point of this episode, showing with explicit clarity that IMP is special because of all the anti-imp sentiment they’ve had to wade through and dismantle within themselves, so why would a supposedly “superior” demon think he had to hit any harder or more precise than that? Also. Though. The careless way Rolando is just throwing around Blitzo’s body is pretty sickening.

Special moment of silence for how Millie knows that Blitzo can take a beating that few others can and uses that to expel Rolando. I’m not crying. It’s fine.

“You’re dead, Bethany!” This is. Such a weird thing to say. Especially when you just went on a pleasure cruise through this guy’s deepest darkest fears. You can pull out what haunts him in the night, but not his name?? Counterpoint: he didn’t CARE to pull out Blitzo’s name. Because he’s an imp.

The knocking Rolando into the pool thing was hysterical, though. Such an anticlimax. Right before the electrocution and the eye-popping and all. Lol.

“FUCK hotels!” Says the man who was casually cosplaying an aspect of the princess of Hell who runs a hotel. I love these shows. I love the casual interplay between them. A crossover one day would be the best thing ever.

“I’ve never had a real friend that I didn’t want to fuck.” That is such a blisteringly honest thing for Blitzo to say that I don’t think he expected it to come out of his own mouth. And I love that Millie knows it has nothing to do with her and everything to do with Blitzo, and how Blitzo feels about Stolas. I just don’t think Blitzo realized he felt that way until he said it out loud.

And wrapping this all up with a nice bow with some Loona and Moxxie character growth, where she ACTUALLY takes care of him instead of leaving him to his own devices! Giving half a shit prevents arson, folks, love to see it.

This had the exact structure of Truth Seekers that got me hooked on this show in the first place: cutting the raunchy humor (which is hit or miss with me, usually don’t like it overmuch) with really deep, complex, and honest character moments. The way Blitzo mentors both Moxxie and Millie in different ways while still relying on them is just so satisfying. Even more satisfying is seeing Blitzo change from a one-note loud pervert into a complicated guy who has real feelings about other people and doesn’t actively want to hurt the people he cares about because he DOES CARE. He’s a fuckup, and he’s trying, and it’s so, so, SO good.

I’m sure I have forgotten to wax eloquent about something or other, but it’s almost four hours later and definitely almost five thousand words into this thing, so I’m gonna cut myself off here. Toodles! See you all in November for Mastermind, which is gonna be FINE I’m sure!!

[yuurivoice]

We've hit the stage of Echoes of Evalas' creation that I'm spending a lot of my quiet time with scenes and characters, including time that is usually occupied by...well, nothing creative. At least, it hasn't been creative time in a long while.

Some of the dearest and most important moments of my young creative daydreaming was before bed. If I might overshare, it was specifically as I lay in bed and tried to drown out unpleasantness I'd hear from other rooms of the house. I'll spare you the details.

I didn't even have music at the time, though in later years as I became a depressed teen, I'd throw some music on my computer to fantasize and fall asleep to.

Oftentimes, these stories and characters I'd contemplate were favorites from various things I enjoyed. In time they'd adapt and evolve into something of my own, in worlds and stories of my own making.

Sometimes it wasn't so grand. There were no sweeping narratives or adventures. Just some self insert character being comforted by a friend or a lover.

Recent nights, I've thrown on my EoE playlist and let my mind wander. I haven't really done that in a long time. Haven't had the need to these days. I'm not running from much. Life is quiet. But as I start to turn over more stones and find what's beneath some of the characters and themes I'm exploring, I've found myself here again.

I don't know if anyone will love what I am making, and I never have. Every person who has let my characters and stories into their hearts means a whole lot to me, though. I've not forgotten when all of this was nothing more than a comfort to myself to soothe away all my fear and loneliness.

As it all starts to come together I'm seeing a stark difference between where I am at as a writer and creative in general in comparison to BitterSweet Chapter 1, as I've revisited it recently.

The pieces were there but it's so clear to me that I didn't have the conviction that I do now. I didn't have the comfort or security of knowing that I can take chances and be bold. I thought I had to color within the lines, and lacked the confidence to really let it rip.

So as much as I've been looking forward, I've also looked back. Further back than I typically like to.

When Charlie said he never thought he'd be this old, that was real shit man. I was a morbid kid. I have a crystal clear memory of being on a school bus in Washington state. Blink 182 just dropped an album. I hate Blink 182, but I listened with a friend whose face I can barely remember. As the high schoolers got on the bus I remember thinking...damn, I'll never be that old.

Not sure what could possess a child to feel that way. Or how that feeling could linger for years. It took a long time to find enough faith in myself to live. Now that I've got it, I think I'm encouraged to give breath to those lost dreams and wandering fantasies. Echoes of Evalas is an exploration of that.

I can't even grasp what that really means yet.

Things like faith, anger, insecurity, and longing for change. I've rattled a lot of locked doors while digging up this story and putting it together.

I am uneasy. That's probably how I've ended up writing this essay in bed, and boy is it a rambling one.

There was a point somewhere. I am excited for what's to come, but uneasy. Not out of fear that anyone will like it or content brained thinking like that. More like...a reverence for this magical thing I've found. Storytelling is magical for me. And that's not me waxing poetic, I think there's something terrifying and beautiful about it. It is the thing I was made to do, and the actual experience of crafting a story like this isn't just fun. I'm removing chains from my soul.

If that ain't magic, I don't know what is.

Anywho, I need to sleep. If you read all that, thank you for putting up with my yapping. 💖

[chatterbox-73]

kinktober 2024.

Day 9 - Deep throating.

Katsuki Bakugou x gn!reader

This story is a smut story for Kinktober, I’ll be writing more characters x reader one shots for Kinktober and if you want to see a character please let me know...

You must be 18 years or older to read this...

🔞⚠️NO MINORS ALLOWED⚠️🔞

A/N: this is yet another repost…😅 I promise I have other stuff scheduled, I just wanted to get these reposts out the was because I’ve been busy.

Summary: You receive an unexpected visit from your friend and old classmate, Bakugou Katsuki. After inquiring about his sudden drop in, you learn he had a horrible argument with his fiancé… so you help in release all of his built up anger.

Word count: 1.1k

CW: NSFW and adult content, dub-con (drunk/tipsy reader/Bakugou’s), infidelity/cheating, oral (GN!giving/ mention of GN!receiving), eating cum, hair pulling, face fucking, head pushing, swearing, and mention of sex.

There was a harsh banging on your apartment door, you flopped off the couch and onto your feet making your way over to the front door. The banging continues as you move towards the door, but somehow only managed to get louder with every step. “Yeah, yeah I’m coming” you shout as you unlock the door and swing it open, “what do you want” you hiss before even looking at your guest and before you knew it you where shoved out of the way. “Move it shit face” the guest growled and you suddenly realised without looking who it was… ‘Bakugou Katsuki’.

You sat across from Bakugou on the coffee table beer in hand listening to him talk about the fight him and his fiancé had, he explained his two week long business trip to America, and how she didn’t want him going. Bakugou continued to explain that she was being unreasonable, that his work is important and is the reason they live in such a nice house. In all honesty you’d always thought his fiancé was a desperate gold-digging lizard, and sure, part of it was probably your feelings for Bakugou shining though. Luckily you had started to come to terms with the fact that he chose her, however this didn’t stop you from watching Bakugou’s biceps flex every time he raises his can of beer to his lips. “Did I make a mistake rushing into marriage? I’m only 22 maybe it’s too soon” he asked with a completely straight face and no anger present what so ever, you shrugged “you’ve been dating since high school, she’s what… your first and only for everything, right?” You asked more rhetorically because you thought he wouldn’t answer, but you were surprised to see him nod his head while looking down at his drink.

You took a deep breath and sighed, “look it’s a weird situation, you and Tokage have been dating for 5 years it’d been weird not to marriage her after being together for that long…” you say before finishing off the last of your beer and continued on again.

“But then again you’ve never had anything different, you’ve been with her through almost everything and haven’t had a chance to grow by yourself… I honestly expect you to turn out like Kirishima and Sero” you chuckled and Bakugou gave you a slight glare, “what you think I’m some kind of man-whore?” He shook his head in disbelief.

The night had continued with you and him sitting on the couch drinking beer, at the moment you had finished your sixth can and had stood to get another. Bakugou innocently tapped the back of your thigh and asked for another, you wobble your way to the kitchen and back to the living room without falling. You now stood in front of the blonde wobbling slightly, “you’re pretty wasted, shit head” he pointed out, “it’s the only pretty you apparently think I am” you quietly slurred and before Bakugou could ask what you meant, you shouted “here you go!” And dropped the can while also almost falling backwards, Bakugou was quick enough to catch your wrists however was not quick enough for the can of beer. You stood up straight and shook off Bakugou’s hands “I’m fine, let me get that” you pointed to the can on the floor, and slowly dropped down between Bakugou’s open legs. You rested your cheek on the top of Bakugou’s thigh, opened the can you dropped and began drinking it, “have this one instead, it’s not shaken up” you passed him the unopened can that was meant for you, he took it with a grunt. You watched Bakugou as he took a large sip of the beer and looked back down at you, “what are you looking at?” He asked with a small smirk, you placed your can on the coffee table behind you. You then sat up straight, grabbed Bakugou’s drink and placed it next to yours, the blonde’s sharp crimson eyes watched you cautiously as your hand slide up his legs to the tops of his thighs. “What are you doing?” Bakugou questioned in an unnaturally quiet tone, “I think you know” you said as your hands moved closer to his pants’ zipper and belt buckle, undoing them with little resistance from the blonde. “Can I?” You asked as your hands ghosted over his growing erection, “yeah” Bakugou huffed as he guided your hands to the waistband of his underwear. As your fingers hook onto his underwear you lean in and kitten lick Bakugou’s clothed erection, when you finally released his throbbing member, it bounced up and bumped you nose. Bakugou chuckled at your slightly shocked expression, he then reached down and rubbed your nose with his thumb as you wrapped both hands around his girthy length. You shivered at the idea of Bakugou stretch you over it, you began to slowly pump one hand while the other held the base of his length. Bakugou sigh and then ran his hand into your hair, ever so slowly gathering it into a ponytail, “hurry up and put it in your mouth” he growled, and soon enough you had a full mouth. You rubbed your tongue on the underside of his length as you hollow your cheeks and suck, you can feel Bakugou sliding further down your throat and he guides your head. Bakugous free hand slips under your shirt and starts to rub and pinch your nipples, “oh are you sensitive there?” He asks mockingly and all you can do is whine. Soon enough Bakugou started rutting into your mouth, and then began full thrusting into your mouth, as his cock hit the back of your throat you began to gag, however this only excited him. Bakugou growled and pushed your head down until your nose was harshly pressed against his pubis, soon following that he kept rutting his length further down your throat, until he came. As Bakugou came he pulled out which caused his cum it cover your tongue and chin, your mouth hung open, tongue hanging out as you gasped for air. “Fuck..” Bakugou exclaimed as you saw his cock visibly twitch, you then swallowed the blonds load. Bakugou pulled you up by your arm and pushed you to lie down on the couch, he then yanked off your pants, before moving to your underwear but stopes when he had you snore. Bakugou quickly carried you off to bed and then went back to the living room to sleep on the couch.

The next morning began with a very awkward conversation, followed by early morning sex bent over your kitchen table, which was followed by Katsuki’s head buried between your thighs for lunch, before he had to inevitably had to leave.

Kinktober Masterlist (coming soon)

Day 8 - Kakashi Hatake: Overstimulation.

Day 10 - Yū Nishinoya: Sleeping beauty

[respectthepetty]

The Loyal Pin - Episode 14

I was going to save this episode for last in my Sunday watching like I normally do, but if I'm going to be mad at Pin, I need to get it out of the way, so let me get this point out of the way as well - - -

WHAT IS PIN EVEN SAYING?!

If she thinks marrying a horrible man is her karma for breaking Anin's heart, you know what actually fix that? NOT MARRYING THAT MAN! Pin gives her reasons: she can't embarrass the family and taint their reputation, but like . . . SHE NEVER HAD TO MAKE THIS DECISION IN THIS FIRST PLACE! Anin doesn't give two fucks about anybody but her, and Pin is thinking about everyone else. She is saying she must now live in hell because she did make this decision, but she isn't the only one in hell because she damned both her and Anin to this sentence. Just because I understand her whys doesn't mean I have to like, and I. Don't. Like. It!

And to make me more upset is Pin being pressed about every girl who has been SUPPORTING Anin even though Anin has been a loyal Blue Beauty to Pin SINCE DAY ONE as if Pin ISN'T GETTING MARRIED IN A WEEK! My babygirl is too beautiful and too perfect to be dealing with this.

And that's why Penelope has no color!

I pray that I see Anin in pink by the end of this story, but right now, I'm proud of her for maintaining her color throughout all of this.

AND HER PETTINESS!

Because, in this house, I respect the petty!

Anin understands the importance of a queer community and my beautiful and perfect babygirl is helping her in her time of need just like Anin has helped her.

Yet Penelope is over there just looking miserable and colorless. Once again, I understand her, but what does she want Anin to do? Help her plan her wedding? Redecorate her bedroom, so her future husband will be comfortable in it?! I WANT ANSWERS, PENELOPE!

Of course this cabrón sucks. We've done been knowing that.

Anin ran IN HEELS to get that man, and if a woman is running in heels, you know that shit is serious. GET HIS ASS, POSH SPICE!

Anan sits at the table with To Sir, With Love's Yang as the best brother to ever exist in a QL because, unlike Anon, he does not trust Kuea because his ass IS NEVER AT WORK, which has been pointed out several times.

And he trusts what my girl Prik is saying about this very important matter because Prik has proven to be elite in getting information! Prik isn't a simple gossip. She is a chismosa and that takes skills.

This motherf*cker.

Not even seeing Pin in her and Anin's colors is making me happy right now. Anin's mom is in red, and the sight of Patricia is pissing me off that I'm seeing more red, so let's get back to murdering Kuea.

And this is what I mean by skills! Prik understands how to treat herself and how to make small talk! She doesn't look suspicious like rich chick Anin. No! She easily got the information and a snack by merely asking where that hot guy was today.

And even though Anin said "Yes, ma'am" slightly irritated when Prik told her to move, Anin better appreciate that without Prik's excellent talent, she wouldn't have known any of this. Prik didn't even have a car! She was just walking around and getting the chisme. The royals could NEVER!

THIS MOTHERF*CKER!

Girl, no! Just like Penelope, I get her reasoning, but this man done lied to you a million times. Your baby deserves better!

PATRICIA! I HATE YOU!

And now I am back where I started. Penelope believes Anin but will stay with Kuea because . . . reasons.

Anin is probably trying to figure out why she loves this pendeja so damn much. Girl, why we love the people we love just doesn't make sense sometimes. This is one of those times.

My Mexican grandmother is coming out in me because all I keep thinking is Penelope better be drinking lots of water if she wants to keep crying all these tears.

Prik telling Penelope that Anin left with Aon, then telling Penelope to smile shouldn't come across as Prik being loyal to Anin, but if I was Prik, I would get my digs in where I could too. I'm not romanticizing being poor, but that big bed in that big house ain't worth it, girl. Anin wanted YOU!

And now this is where my feelings get hurt by the colors, and I start singing Adele.

"WE COULD'VE HAD IT ALL, ROLLING IN THE DEEP!"

"NEVER MIND, I'LL FIND SOMEONE LIKE YOU! I WISH NOTHING BUT THE BEST FOR YOU!"

THIS MOTHERFUCKER!

Anan, get up right now and smack your bother. My beautiful and perfect babygirl is right next to him and she will help you. Start a fight, so the wedding gets postponed.

I FUCKING HATE THIS!

Whew! That was an amazing hour of television. Blessed to be alive the same time this is airing.

[vnamps]

LIKABLE . lee minho x gn reader

authors note: I'm such a procrastinator and not consistent this was written by a random midnight impulse so its really dumb but please send in some fluff reqs bc we love romance

summary: in which a drunken late night call to your enemy reveals that title may not be so true

four in the morning. A timing in which, especially on weekdays, most people should be sleeping, preparing themselves for another recurring cycle of what people would call "adulthood" Despite this, Minho found himself awake, lying in bed. He did nothing but stare at the ceiling as he tried so hard concentrating on how to make those stubborn "chemicals" mix so that he could finally be out for the night. On the other hand, you were completely wasted, also not sleeping. You had been dropped off home by one of your friends who you arrived at the club with but they didn't think to further make sure you were doing alright such as staying out of trouble and not calling the one person who absolutely hates you, possibly ruining their sleep.

It wasn't that you hated Minho, for you two are actually very compatible, at least so you think. In fact, you thought he was gorgeous. It was just the long dramatic sighs he gave whenever you spoke, almost like he was bored; The numerous times he basically humiliated you by ignoring you In front of everyone. It was clear to you that he didn't enjoy your company and so you tried your hardest to stray from him. It isn't easy though considering that somehow fate always places you two together.

Minho was aware of his cold behavior towards you. It was a mechanism he tried using to get rid of that stupid feeling he felt whenever his eyes bore in to your soul unknowingly or whenever you smiled at him, even when he knew it was fake. His attempts at this were quite useless considering they do say the heart grows fonder when apart.

To him, you couldn't possibly want someone like that in your life, something you both tried convincing yourselves. So when he got a call with your name labeled, it's quite obvious he was both confused and shocked to say the least. Nonetheless, he pressed 'accept' and brung the phone to his ear.

"hello?" it was quiet, his voice fragile.

"oh. you answered." You replied, letting out a small breath which resembled a airy chuckle.

"y-yeah I did. is there something you need?" He could feel his heart pick up a tiny pace as the anticipation ate at him.

"why do you hate me?" It was direct, bold even. Minho could even hear the little quiet catch of breath after, almost as if you were trying to hold back tears.

It was silent for a bit, Minho stunned as you continued.

"y-you dislike me a-and everything I do. s-sometimes you make me even wonder if i- if I am even l-likeable." Minho can sense that you're crying by how broken it sounds when you speak and he can feel his heart break a little.

"when have I implied that I hated you?" It was a dumb question because even he knew of his behavior.

you scoff, letting out an airy laugh. It was cold, unlike the earlier comparison.

"you didn't have to, minho." you reply, sounding a little incoherent as you began to rant on about all of the stuff that he's been doing.

It all confused him why you'd call him so late bringing up a topic like this but none of that mattered because none of it is as important as digging himself out of the shit he'd put himself in.

"I don't hate you." It was small, true nonetheless and very impactful as you stopped speaking, taking a bit to process what was said

"you don't hate me?" you repeated in question, almost sounding like some sort of affirmation on your tongue, almost like a potion how it sobered you.

"so... you think I'm likable?" you had an eager tone in your voice, causing him to smile to himself as he let out a small giggle.

"more than likable."

[pilfappreciator]

ATTENTION TROLLS FANDOM!!

This is very important. Mostly to me but maybe you guys have been wondering this too idk but anyways:

How does troll reproduction work exactly?

Cuz I'm genuinely curious. I dont think anyone on the series production team has said anything and so far I've seen absolutely no one touch on this subject but as someone who's always had an interest in the habits of creatures (both fictional or otherwise), I kinda sorta maybe NEED to know this otherwise I'll never be able to sleep peacefully again

Full disclaimer that I'm specifically talking about the whole egg situation, I am NOT ASKING HOW THEY GET IT ON IF I WANTED THAT ANSWER I'D GO TO DEVIANT ART OR TWITTER OR WHATEVER LAWLESS PLATFORM GOD STEERS CLEAR OF. This discussion shall remain STRICTLY educational, thank you very much

But anywho. Let's dive in

So trolls come from eggs. This is basic knowledge. First instance of this phenomenon (as far as I know, I've only seen the movies) is from World Tour.

Egg pops out of Guy Diamond's hair, egg hatches and BOOM, (literal) baby. Now I understand that this whole sequence was probably just a gag and a way for DreamWorks to implement another (merchandisable) addition to the cast HOWEVER this sequence also raises a few questions

First off, as far as I know Guy Diamond has no partner (again: I haven't watched any of the spinoff shows). Either that or maybe the other troll was a sorta one-night-stand/no-longer-in-his-life kinda situation? Which is great either way cuz its shown he obviously cares for his son and we at Tumblr appreciate a loving single father no matter the circumstances, but if my former theory is correct than that would imply that trolls are capable of reproducing asexually. Like onions.

Now if that hypothesis is, as they call it, "cap" then that would mean that some sorta hanky panky has to go down before an egg comes into question. And if that's the case, does this mean that male trolls are traditionally the ones who carry the eggs?

But that can't be right, can it? Afterall, World Tour gave us yet ANOTHER egg scene later on in the movie

In Cooper's flashback, we clearly see Queen Essence being the one carrying the eggs meanwhile King Quincy is eggless. Now, as far as i see it, this could be explained either one of four ways:

1) Quincy was the one who actually produced the eggs and Essence is merely holding them for her husband (since her hair seems more fitting to be a makeshift nest compared to Quincy's)

2) Female trolls are the ones who produce the eggs. Guy Diamond is just a trans icon

3) Troll reproduction differs from genre to genre

4) There is a... *sighs* a/b/o type of dynamic among troll kind where certain trolls are capable of giving birth/siring children depending on a secondary gender

In regards to theory #3, this could also explain why Guy Diamond seems to reproduce and hatch an egg in such a short amount of time (like 5 seconds I'm pretty sure) as opposed to Queen Essence/King Quincy who's eggs presumably went a while longer before actually hatching.

Actually, speaking off eggs, are trolls the only species in their world that reproduce that way?

Because now that Band Together has officially been released, we now know for certain that it's possible for different species to crossbreed. Biggest example? Resident DILF Bruce and his giant muppet wife

(Credit to @captainunderkrupp )

When I saw these two... I swear...

And these two already have a shit ton of kids okay so like... either Brandi was the one giving birth or trollsona Daveed Digs was over here pumpin out eggs, which I mean-

DO YOU SEE HOW BIG THESE THINGS ARE COMPARED TO BRANCH AND POPPY?? Believe me I am PRAYING that Bruce gave himself some serious maternity/paternity leave because my guy is honestly a trooper

But yeah any thoughts? :))

[wizzdot]

The Patron Saint of One Way Trips

Ch26

Description: I’m back, thought it was getting a little bit too fluffy so it’s about time some shit hit the fan x

The short holiday John had planned passed quickly. The 141 pack had truly spoiled me, taking me shopping, to dinner and even allowed me to share their pack bed with them when I couldn’t sleep. John, ever the traditionalist, had reminded me that I didn’t have to share their room if I needed space.

It all crashed to a jarring halt when Laswell called John an entire day earlier than she was supposed to.

*Laika’s POV*

I am lounging comfortably across Johnny’s lap, curled up against him as he sleeps. We were watching a movie together when John’s phone starts ringing. Kyle groans at the interruption and John sighs, standing to answer the phone in private, leaving the room.

I listen carefully through the walls as John paces back and forward in the hallway outside.

“Kate, I thought we had another day until we shipped out.. what’s changed?” John grumbles down the phone.

I don’t hear the reply, obviously, but it can’t be good news.

“No, she stays with us. We ain’t leavin’ her anywhere by herself. That’s not an option, Kate..”

Shit, they’re talking about me.. he sounds angry. Why were they discussing me…?!

“Kate.. it’s final, she comes with us or none of us come..”

They’re fighting, but I can only hear John’s side of the argument..

“I understand what you’re saying, Kate, but she is safest by my side. I won’t let anything harm her.. I’m not leaving her, that’s final.”

I can tell that the conversation is wrapping up. I sit back closer to Johnny, pretending to still be sleeping. I gulp, nervous about what is coming..

I hear the door click back open and John walks in, sighing heavily, clearly pissed off.

“..well?” Simon grunts

“We leave tonight, Kate’s got a lead..” John says.

“Tonight? Must be important. What was she saying about Laika..?” Simon digs.

“She thinks she should sit this one out. Thinks she can’t cope, that it’s dangerous.. that she’ll be a liability”

“And why’s that ..?”

They’re whispering, hoping I can’t hear them while I ‘sleep’ - Johnny, bless his heart, is still fast asleep. I’m pretty sure a bomb could go off and he’d sleep through it.

Kyle chooses the pause in conversation to pipe up. He’d obviously been listening and thinking through what could have happened.

“Who exactly is it Kate’s got a lead on, Cap..?”

“Makarov” John whispers, trying his best to not allow it to reach my ‘sleeping’ ears.

“Shit”

I tense up when I hear his name. I feel sick. Johnny must be able to feel my change of position as he suddenly tries to soften me up to better mould to his sleeping form. He kneads at my hips, trying to soften my position against his lap again, but I’m just too tense now that I’ve learnt that we are going up against Makarov.

“No point in whispering, she’s listening, aren’t you, little one..?” Simon says, directing his comment towards me, while I continue to try my best to pretend to be asleep.

Shit, he has noticed.. of course he has..

I open my eyes, immediately meeting the gaze of all three Alphas, Johnny continues to cling to me while he sleeps.

“So you’ve heard everything then, love?” John asks me, directly.

I nod, nervously.

“Do you want to stay.. sit this one out..? Your call..” he asks.

“I - I don’t want to be left on my own.. but.. but I don’t know if I’m ready to face Mak- him”

Fuck, I can’t even say his name.

“How-how long will you be gone..?” I whisper, contemplating my options.

“Probably a week, but we never really know.. we could bring you with us to the safe house,..? Make sure you’re safe..?”

“I - uhm.. I..” I stutter, completely at a loss of what to do.

“Sweetheart” Kyle speaks softly from beside me, “you’ve got a couple of hours to think every thing through. Take your time, you’ve got options. You can stay here, at base.. you can come with us to the safe house and stay there until we come back, or you can obviously come with us on the mission but if you’re nervous or not ready then it’s probably safer if you stay away from the action for now..”

I nod, appreciating Kyle’s calming presence and simplification of my options.

“I - I want to come to the safe house”

He nods and smiles at me.

“Sorted then, that’s what we will do, love”

John agrees and Simon just, sort of, stares. Johnny continues to sleep until Simon abruptly stands, barking Johnny’s name. He jumps, and wraps his arms tightly around me before remembering where he is.

“What the fuck’s goin’ oan?!” He grumbles, sleepily.

“Hiya, pretty.. look at you all comfy on your favourite Alpha’s lap, eh?” He teases, kissing my cheeks, dangerously close to the corner of my mouth.

We hadn’t done anything since my weird half heat thing. John had said it was best to take things slow and steady.. it had all been flirtatious touches, cuddles and kisses, nothing more. But Johnny had come close to breaking his Alpha’s ground rules.. he was the boldest of the pack. The least obedient.

Kyle had been nothing short of a gentleman, so soft and caring. Simon had closed himself off again, a little, on the physical side of things but had still been kind and respectful. He’d been calling me sweet nicknames for the past few days.

John had spoilt me on the shopping trip again, much to my disapproval. I quickly realised that if I looked at anything for more than 3 seconds, John would assume I wanted it and would send Kyle to buy it before I could tell him I just admired it and that didn’t mean he had to buy it for me. He just brushed my moaning off as nonsense.

The next few hours pass in a blur. It feels like one second, I was curled in Johnny’s lap, and the next, I’m sitting in the back of the car between Kyle and Simon, as we head towards London.

I must have fallen asleep as I wake up in Simon’s arms as he carries me up the stairs of an unfamiliar house. “It’s alright, little one. We’re at the safe house. Taking you to bed. Y’must be tired. Been sleepin’ a lot lately..” he teases gruffly.

I whine against his chest, taking this rare moment of closeness to inhale his rich scent. He grumbles when he realised what I’m doing. “Greedy girl” he teases again.

“M’not greedy. Not my fault he doesn’t cuddle me more…” I huff back, like a little brat.

He chuckles deeply at my response.

“M’not a cuddly Alpha.. not like the others anyway..”

“John’s cuddly..?” I ask, having only recognised Johnny and Kyle’s obvious obsession with touchy feely stuff.

“Oh yeah. Caps probably the worst. He has been holdin’ back around you, omega.. afraid he’ll scare you away..”

“John..? As in the Captain.. Pack Alpha..?” I ask, completely lost.

“Yep, once he has you in his arms, he ain’t goin’ to want to let you go. He’s a possessive bastard..”

“I like it when you cuddle me..” I admit “you’re warm.. ‘n’ so big..” I whisper, slightly embarrassed.

“Shh, love.. you’re tired. Not thinkin’ straight”

“No, Simon.. I mean it. I want more…”

“Don’t want to hurt you, little one. I’ll let Kyle and Johnny do all that stuff. They’ve more control over their Alpha side than I do”.

[bow-of-aros]

Day One: Anticipation

Summary: Caleb gets himself into a bit of a sticky situation. It's alright, Molly won't drag this out for toooooo long.

-

Hi folks! I'm trying my hand at tickletober this year and I hope that I can get a good chunk of fics out! This is my first time writing for the Mighty Nein but these two are so special to me so hopefully I did them justice <33 I'm still finding my footing in writing for this community, especially with new characters, but I hope that you guys enjoy!

-

“Oh, hello Caleb,” Mollymauk slid through the door to Caleb’s and Nott’s room, “Now, what am I going to do with you?”

Caleb, to his credit, was only mostly pressed against the headboard. It was cute how he thought that keeping a straight face was going to do him any good, especially when it was undermined by the faint blush that was spreading across his cheeks and creeping up to tinge his ears a rosy hue.

It took him a few tries to get his voice to work, words failing him in a way they so rarely did, and Caleb finally said, “Ah, hallo, Mr. Mollymauk. I was actually feeling rather tired, so I think that I’m going to get some rest if that’s alright with you.”

Molly watched in amusement as Caleb tugged the sparse blankets over his fully clothed body, not even bothering to take off his disgusting boots or his book holsters before closing his eyes.

He waited as Caleb shifted fruitlessly in an attempt to find a more comfortable position for a few moments, before silently creeping over and crouching so as to be on eye-level with their resident wizard.

Honestly, Molly was impressed that he’d managed to get that close given how Caleb managed to somehow always be on high alert. Someone needed to slow his brain down a little bit, loosen the tension that he’d never once lost since Molly had met him.

Caleb cracks one eye open, nearly flinging himself off the bed as he’s greeted with Molly’s red gaze, mischief dancing across his face at Caleb’s panicked “Scheiße!”

“Shit, Caleb,” He spoke as though he wasn’t currently clambering atop Caleb, “We really gotta get some muscle on those bones. Imagine if any of our many many enemies got their hands on you?”

The look Caleb shot him could’ve dried up an ocean. Molly was honestly impressed that he could pull it off considering that the wizard is literally underneath him.

“I won’t have to worry about that. You seem to be able and willing to protect me if that happened.”

Well, he’s not wrong.

“You know, I could definitely protect you from something.”

Caleb’s gone still underneath him. It might have something to do with the fact that Molly’s started lightly drumming his claws on his holsters. That’s good, he’d been getting a little too relaxed.

“Ah, nein, Mollymauk. You don’t need to worry about me.”

Molly feigns ignorance, fiddling with the straps securing the holsters over his ribs. And if he lets his fingers ‘slip’ every so often? Well, who could resist the nervous smile on the face of such an adorable grump?

“Oh but I do, Caleb!” He starts slowly unfastening the frankly absurd amount of buckles, “I mean, you just told me that you wanted to get some rest and it can’t be comfortable with these books digging into your ribs.”

At the word digging, Molly feinted a lunge and almost cracked up at Caleb’s yelp.

“I mean, what kind of friend would I be if I left you like this.”

Another calculated brush and Caleb’s hands shot out to push Molly’s away. He’d be concerned about how easy it was to tuck his hands under his knees if he didn’t know that Caleb was enjoying this.

“Molly! Mollymauk! We can talk about this, ja?” Molly carefully slides the holsters down. He knows how important those things are to Caleb and he’s not a monster. “I’m sorry!”

Oh?

“Oh? You’re sorry? Now you’re sorry?” A hitched breath as Molly places his claws on now-bared ribs.

“You didn’t seem very sorry when you left me at Jester’s mercy. She had my tail, Caleb!”

Giggles are beginning to slip out and Caleb’s eyes are glued to his hands. Maybe Molly should put him out of his misery.

Eh. In a second. Let him sweat.

“Ja, I’m sorry!” He’s babbling now. Good. “Mollymauk, bitte, if you’re going to do it, just do it.”

“Alright, alight.”

A sigh of relief. Oh, Mr. Caleb, you let your guard down too quickly.

“Ten.”

“Was?! Nein Mollymauk! There’s no need to count!”

It’s almost too easy with him.

“Hey, you’re right! Nine comes next!”

A groan breaks through the anticipation. Maybe Molly should stop using the same joke every single time.

Nah.

“Three!”

“Mollehehey!”

Awww. “Laughing already? You are not ready for what’s coming. Two.”

“Nein! Habe mitleid, Molly! Plehehehease!”

Caleb’s face almost matches his hair, his eyes crinkle at the corners and he just looks so happy. Really, who is Molly to deny him this?

“One.”

[cleolinda]

Friends, we have more neighborhood weirdness, and it doesn't even involve wet chaos or the Unnamed Internet Provider.

So I'm at home with my dog, minding my own business, and there's a loud knock at the front door. The first thing you need to know is, it's 2023 and I don't open doors. Since the advent of texting, there is zero need to open a door without advance notice of a visitation, and I stand by this. At most, someone might be unheralded, but it's a delivery I was at least expecting. Don't Open Doors 2k23.

So I wait a few minutes, and then I go to the slatted door that opens from the den out into a little front hall, so I can kind of look through a window by the front door without being seen. There is no one on our doorstep, and there is no one parked out front on the street. Sure, I gave them time to leave. Not weird.

However, as you know, an Internet Provider flooded my basement with sewage, and we have had vans and trucks for repairs at our house for a month now. I go check kitchen window over the driveway to see if there’s anyone parked there.

There is.

I did take a picture of it, but I'm not sure if I should post it. I don't know shit about cars, so I can only describe this gleaming black vehicle as CIA surplus, or maybe sport utility hearse. The windows are tinted so dark that I can't even see who's in the front seat--there's got to be someone, because I went to other windows around the house and couldn't see anyone walking around, either. Short version, it looks like an expensive car that takes you to Bad Places.

I call my mom and ask if she was expecting anyone to stop by. Delivery, home damage repair, driveway digging chaos, anything. No, no one.

I sit very quietly in the den with my dog.

A while later, I check the kitchen window again. Ten minutes, and they're still parked there. Half an hour, they're still parked there. My mom calls an hour into this, and I check again, and they're not there. So this car stayed parked in my driveway, no one knocking again or ringing the doorbell, anywhere from 30-60 minutes. When I peer out at the front door, there's a printed note stuck on the window. It reads thusly:

DELIVERY NOTICE!

Important Time Sensitive Material

Name: Mr. and Mrs. [Parents' correct surname]

Date: [Accurate date]

Time: [Not accurate time, nearly an hour early]

Please call within 24 hours to reschedule your delivery

Contact Person: [A slightly different version of a common first name, a common surname]

Phone: [A number my mom later tried to google but reverse lookup wanted money]

There is no logo or company name on the note. It looks extremely generic and "hello fellow kids, I do a business." Between this and the corporate kidnap vehicle, I am creeped the fuck out, and extremely grateful that I have the Gift of Fear™ and do not fucking open doors.

Here's the thing, though. In writing this up just now, I decided to do some due diligence for y'all and google the contact's name. The first name is just unusual enough that it pulls someone relevant up immediately, first result:

A local account executive for a rival internet provider

what the fuck, y'all

Like, I'm not saying an internet executive sat in my driveway for the better part of an hour (to deliver WHAT??), but given our travails with A DIFFERENT internet provider, does this not seem significant? MAN WE JUST USE AT&T, LEAVE US THE FUCK ALONE