#every year i learn something new and become more capable and confident and that’s so fun!!

[monstroushellbride]

i’ll be 25 in less than a month!! which means i’m even closer to 30!!

[pyrrhiccomedy]

I am genuinely so proud of my wife for becoming a crafts person over the last few years.

Like, I was always a crafts person. I was an arts and crafts kid. My parents sent me to classes or summer camps or after-school clubs pretty much continuously from when I was about 5 years old, and over the years I did metalsmithing, stained glass, polymer clay sculpting, loom weaving, oil painting, charcoal drawing, clothes-making & tailoring, carpentry, woodcarving, macrame, miniatures, beading, jewelry-making, basket weaving, leatherworking, paper-making, bookbinding, papier mache, decoupage, sand sculpting, and probably more that I'm forgetting. There was never a day in my life while I was growing up when my entire bedroom floor wasn't taken up by 2-5 different ongoing art projects. As an adult, it's given me the firm confidence that I can walk up to pretty much any crafting skill, and get the hang of it, and enjoy doing it.

My wife never had that. She wrote, but that was really her only artistic outlet. Art & craftsmanship were just not any of her business. She always expressed admiration for my gumption when it came to making things with my hands, usually with a "bigger idiots than me have done it" attitude, but she was certain she'd be bad at it if she tried it, and that she wouldn't have fun. As evidence, she would offer every time in her life when she had attempted to learn a craft, and didn't have fun, and all the Arts And Crafts kids picked it up a lot faster than her.

Which like - yeah! Learning how to do a new craft is a skill all on its own! Fine motor control is a skill developed over time! So is spatial reasoning, and materials intuition! She wasn't just 'trying to learn wreath-making,' or whatever, she was trying to learn how to learn how to make something with her hands AND wreath-making, at the same time, so of course it would take her longer than the kids who already had the first part, and of course it would be more frustrating for her. I knew she wasn't uniquely bad at crafts: she just didn't know how to approach picking them up, because she was never encouraged to learn.

And then the pandemic hit.

And while we were all trapped inside and going insane in new and exciting ways to all of us, she tentatively decided to pick up embroidery. She probably wouldn't stick with it, she explained: she'd probably be bad at it. It probably wouldn't be fun. But she thought embroidery was pretty, and literally what else did she have going on?

And then she did stick with it. For over a year. And she got pretty good at it! She embellished a baseball hat for her sister with cactuses and wildflowers from where they grew up which came out adorable. She made an embroidered portrait of one of our friends' cat that they still have displayed in their entryway. And she discovered - and remarked on it often, with mild surprise - that she was having fun. She'd say a lot of stuff like "this stitch was so frustrating at first, but now that I get it I really like doing it," or "I kept getting this tangled but I've figured it out now. I just needed to relax."

Then she took up pottery. We did that as a couple for about a year, too. Now she's a knitter.

And it's just been so great, to see her eyes light up when she sees a sweater she likes, and hear her say, "I could make that!" She's slowly let go of the perfectionism that I think holds a lot of people back from doing crafts: that dismay when you make a mistake which leads to discarding a whole project, or starting something over. More and more she's taking on the veteran crafter attitude of "oops lol, whatever I'll just keep going." She's picking things up faster. She's taking pleasure in learning incremental steps. She's started to see crafting as something that relaxes and engages her, instead of as something inherently frustrating. I've gotten to watch her learn to find joy in making something with her hands. I always knew she was creative and artistic and capable of learning how to do anything. It's been so much fun to watch her start to take that on as part of how she sees herself.

We have this running joke about how she will prematurely declare herself to be in an era. Like, she'll go swimming twice and announce that she's now in her "swimming era," and then never go swimming again. Or she'll make one smoothie, buy a bunch of fruit, and declare that we are now in a "smoothie era," and then a week later we have to throw out a bunch of fruit that's gone bad.

The other day (while she was knitting, and I was sitting on the couch next to her doing crochet), she went, "I feel like I've gotten - like, I'm a bit crafty these days, I think. Like, I've done a couple of different crafts, and gotten pretty good at them. I think this is now, kind of, you know...something that I can say that I do."

I supplied that I would even go so far as to say that she was in her "crafting era."

Her eyes widened. "It's an era?"

I pointed out that it was something she'd been doing pretty much continuously for the last three and a half years. That feels like the start of an era to me.

"Yes," she decided. "It's an era. This is my crafts era. I'm a crafts person now."

She's planning to make me a sweater with a duck on it for fall.

[sungiescheotluv]

mirror muscles ⭑.ᐟ na jaemin

pairing: na jaemin x gender neutral reader

word count: 2.7k

tags/warnings: fluff, established relationship, suggestive, gym talk(?)

summary: doing your new resolutions with jaemin has always worked in your favor, most goals ticked off your lists. however, when you mention going to gym, jaemin's enthusiasm reaches new heights.

notes: hiyaaaa! it feels like forever since i last posted (two days omg 🙄) but i do hope you pretty stars enjoy this very indulgent fic! as an aspiring gym girlie, i'd do anything for this kind of princess treatment (particularly from jaemin 😋) also, the title of this is based on the soft play song with the same name (emo jisung, lemme give u some music recs). ok, i think i'm done here. wishing u all the best, much loveeee! <3

Note to self: never, under any circumstances, tell Jaemin your New Year’s resolution. Because one peek at your ambitious list and Jaemin will pry you from your warm bed, at the ass crack of dawn (might you add) to go to the gym because ‘nothing beats a morning pump.’

If you weren’t stupidly in love with him, you would’ve dropped a dumbbell on his toe.

How you get to this point is a lot more wholesome. Since the start of your relationship, once snow trickles down for Christmas, you two sit at your dining table with your laptops opened on Pinterest and pin-point what goals you'd like to achieve the following year. This way, you’re not shouldering your ambitions alone, having each other every step of the year as you tick off box after box. So far, you’ve managed to complete most of your goals. Go traveling, learn a new language, cook more home-cooked meals, limit screen time (still working on that) and many more. Jaemin was also progressing well: dedicating more time in his photography, reducing his coffee intake, going to bed earlier and visiting his mother more. 

For this year’s moodboard, while collecting pictures of your next set of goals, fitness content shows up in your recommendations. People in pilates studios in their pastel pink gym-sets. The aesthetic draws you in, how content people feel moving their body besides getting their 10k steps a day in. More photos start showing up, people sculpting their pride in the gym, sharing personal stories of their fitness journey and how the gym has taught them so much about themselves. What they’re capable of, what they never thought they could do and what opportunities lie await now that they’re happier in themselves. It all seems promising, even more so when you reconsider how bright your best friend’s life’s become since making the choice. She’d rarely accompany you to a game of badminton and now she’s pioneering her own run-club, amassing a social media following the size of an army.

You’d have to ask her how to get started once she’s back from her influencer trip (maybe content creating is something you needed to hop on). Then again, peering over your laptop screen to Jaemin’s glowing face, you could simply ask him. He’s been consistently going to the gym for a while now, to the point where you fake-pleaded for SM to close their gym because your boyfriend's become too buff for you to function. He’s always been gorgeous, with a face that could charm a snake, but now that he’s carved like a Renaissance sculpture, you couldn’t form a coherent sentence around him. Of course, aesthetic reasons are what lured him into the space, but he relays it’s become a lot more than that for him.

“I want to be strong, not only to build my confidence but to also protect my loved ones,” he looks directly at you, a serious hue to his eyes that has you breathless. “It’s another form of self-love, is my thinking. Showing up for myself, proving I can do hard things, even when I don’t want to. That I can step out of my comfort zone, trying new things and ultimately, living a longer life. Because at the end of the day, as much as I do this for me, I also do it so I can help you carry groceries. So that I can move furniture around when we move in together, be the one that my family calls if they need something physically demanding done,”

Fondness curves his lips, a flicker of timidity dart his eyes down to the desk before they flicker back up at you, astoundingly earnest as he says, “I’d also want to keep up with our kids. Carry them when they’re tired or run after them in a park. Those are my reasons.”

Something stutters in your chest. Then, leaps. Over the course of your three year relationship, it’s only natural that topics like this are mentioned, like marriage and children. Heck, you two shared a Pinterest board of decor ideas for the shared apartment you’d been on the lookout for. So, it shouldn't phase you but it does. How far into the future he sees with you. How he shares a bit of himself so effortlessly, in a way that lacks pressure and possesses good faith. Love and promise. All prominent themes throughout your relationship, one you thank your lucky stars for.

As a consequence, you flush. Folding like the early days of your relationships. “You’re getting bold these days. We haven’t even moved in together.”

“All in good time, angel,” he grins, looking a bit lovesick. “In any case, if this is something you wanna do, I’d be more than happy to help. Go to the gym with you so you don’t feel anxious, show you how to use the machines, get you workout clothes - whatever you want.”

You could marry this man.

You extend your arm across the wooden table, hand finding his as your fingers interlace, the same song and dance you’d hope you’d spend your life doing. “Thanks, baby.”

And now? Now, divorce weighs heavily on your mind.

In an effort to avoid the New Year’s crowd, Jaemin wakes you up early in the slum of days after Christmas where time doesn’t exist, cuddling into your half-sleeping figure with a gentle voice. Coaxes you to get up, slip on the new gym clothes you’d spent on his card (his treat, he said) and somehow, here you are, stinging eyes squinting under fluorescent lights with some EDM track playing faintly in the background.

“Oh, baby. Don’t look so down, you’re in good hands,” Jaemin coos, hand squishing your cheeks under your chin before pulling you into his chest, warm and comforting. “I’ll take care of you.”

“Couldn’t this wait until,” you glance at your fitness tracker, your own treat to yourself. “Midday? No one needs to be here at 9 am.”

“Maybe, but it’s a good way to start your day. Or get it out of the way,” he chuckles, spinning you out his arms before he wiggles his eyebrows. “Plus, who doesn’t want to see my muscles first thing in the morning?”

He drives home his point by kissing his bicep, something that should make you cringe out your skin or disappear without a trace, but no. Perhaps you’re still sleepy, shielding a snicker with your hand because of how lame (said adoringly) he is.

“You said you’d usually start off with thirty minutes on the treadmill, right?” You nod your head. “Okay, I’ll go with you. I’ll run for fifteen and row until you're done. So you don’t constantly have me in your ear.”

You laugh, because as grumpy as you’d been on the way here, you could never grow tired of him. All his carefree and mischief nature, his sweet and generous manner - you couldn’t even if you tried. 

Few people populate the modern gym, near to none in the cardio section as Jaemin refreshes your memory on all the buttons before you begin. Beside you, he does sporadic sprints, no heavy breaths clouding his chatter with you. You, on the other hand, keep it relatively reserved for your first time, upping the speed when you want to challenge yourself, surprising yourself with the distance and time that flies by. Soon enough, Jaemin’s squeezing your hand and moving a few rows back where the rowing machines are, leaving you with your walking playlist.

Again, in a flash, time passes by, upbeat songs blaring in your headphones that make you dance through the next fifteen minutes, a simmer of sadness coming when you’ve reached time with a whole host of songs still in the queue.

“You can listen to them next time,” Jaemin winks before leading you into a dark, LED room dotted with mirrors and yoga mats. This is one of the rooms booked for classes, but for now, it’s your stretching area where you cycle through some stretches and Jaemin jokes about folding you like a pretzel. 

The one other person in the room - a woman in her thirties - coughs, before smirking your way, the heat of your embarrassment migrating to your cheeks as you swat at Jaemin. He simply laughs, stretching to reveal his happy trail and suddenly, you forget why you’re even mad. 

When you’re finished, he shows you different sections - an assortment of cable machines, the weights area and then to an area with more machines. There’s a few people occupying the machines, immersed in their own world with flushed cheeks and sweat seeping into their clothes. It fills you with relief, that no one’s focused on you and your sweating figure as if you had ‘gym newbie’ written across your forehead. Jaemin shows you some of the machines he uses, depending on what he wants to work out but for the most part, lets you decide what machines you’d want to use - if any.

“Why do I need to put on muscle? You putting me in a headlock is good enough.” You fake-complain, feeding off the gentle approach Jaemin’s taken in trying to convert you to a gym rat.

“And you say I’m the dirty one,” he tsks with a matching grin. “You don’t need to do anything. All I’m doing is showing you the options you have. The more things you try, the more likely you’ll find something you lik-”

“Is that the slut machine?”

Jaemin’s head jerks back, eyebrows pinching together in confusion. “What are you talking about?’

“This one,” you approach the machine closeby, pointing to the photo attached along with its actual name - hip adduction. “Isn’t this the one where people like, open their legs like crazy?”

Jaemin shakes his head, amusement in the smile he swipes with his hand. “Yes, it is. Wanna give it a go?”

“Hell yeah,” you climb into the machine in a rush, finding the experience more exciting than scary as Jaemin makes sure everything is in order. “This is gonna be hilarious.”

“I’m setting it to a low weight. If it’s too easy, we’ll move it upwards and try and find your range,” he comments, looking at you through his silver hair. “You ready?”

“Ready,” and you go, the weight moving like nothing, so much so that when it sets back to its original position, you’re more caught off guard by how far apart your legs are spread. “This is so raunchy, ohmygod.”

“Good thing it’s facing the wall,” Jaemin laughs at you shielding in between your legs. He ups the weight, the number looking a lot scarier than anticipated. “Let’s try this then. You should be able to rep 10 of these.”

You shuffle, a bit unconvinced. Taking a breath, you engage the machine, exerting more effort than before but managing to do one rep. Then two, then three all the way up to ten. Enough to challenge you, but not strain you.

Jaemin howls, pinching your cheek as he says, “Look at you go! That was great.”

“Thank you,” you huff, the tingle in your thighs somehow the source of the happiness in your chest. “That was really fun, actually.”

“Isn’t it?” Jaemin smiles, using some paper towel to wipe after the machine for you. “Usually people do about three sets of those. Reps depend on what you want to do - build endurance, muscle strength, all that. But that was really great, I’m so proud of you.”

And you feel proud of yourself too. Having tried something new, feeling unsure but leaning into the feeling. Letting yourself see how far you can extend yourself, pleasantly surprised with the distance. 

So, this was what Jaemin was on about.

You continue your morning like this, getting a personalised tutoring session in how certain machines works and what areas they work out. Jaemin runs through his leg day, since you two were on the hip adduction machine, enjoying more exercises like leg press and goblet squats. By the time you get to the hip thrust machine to try, someone’s occupying it. Jaemin suggests using the squat rack, the scary thing with a long barbell and weights attached to it. Sensing your apprehension, Jaemin lets you know he’s got you, coaching you through the exercise and any queries you may have about movement or positioning. Eventually, it’s your turn to lean against the incline bench and despite your fear, you work your way through 8 hip thrusts. You don’t nearly enjoy it as much as people online talk about it, which Jaemin says,

“That’s perfectly fine. There’s so many exercises that work the same areas. You’ll find one you prefer.” 

Finished for your session, Jaemin asks for you to hold tight while he does some deadlifts. It’s maddening watching him pick up such heavy weights, concentration knitting his eyebrows together with his exposed arms flexing under the tension. Wearing a sleeveless top for the gym in theory is great, but for your mental health? Bad, so bad. 

Because even if your body rings with exhaustion, the kind that’s refreshing and ensures a peaceful slumber, you’re about ready to jump his bone. 

Ill with lust, as you’d joke. 

Jaemin snickers, snapping his waist belt off with one hand, which shouldn’t be sexy but is. Your eyes then trail to the barbell, the memory of Jaemin’s set vivid in your mind.

“Did you wanna try it?” Jaemin asks, reading your mind. “We can start off with no weights. Just the barbell. There’s also different variations of a deadlift, let’s see which one you prefer.”

Out of the three, you pick the most conventional one to start with, teeth sinking into your bottom lip at what you’ve gotten yourself into. Particularly after Jaemin loads weights on each end when you've rehearsed with the barbell.

“Think of the barbell cutting your feet in half - not standing too close so that your shins are touching it and not too far away that you have to lean to grab it,” Jaemin coaches, your feet shuffling into the right position. “Nice. Let’s move onto the hinge movement,”

From behind you, his hands settle onto your hips, pulling them back with him. He pats them, a chuckle left in his wake as he steps to your side to demonstrate without overly being horny. 

Bastard.

“Like you just did, you’ve gotta hinge your hips backwards until you can’t hinge anymore. Then, you’ll move a little into your knees, like a squat almost so you can grab the barbell,” you follow along, the barbell cold against your hands as you blow a breath.

“Great. Keep your body tense, engage your core and glutes. No arch,” his hand hovers over the arch of your back, something teasing in his smile. “Show your chest, keep your head up straight and lift the barbell up. Remember to keep it close to your body before you lower it down with the same hinge movement and movement into your knees.”

You puff out another breath, the same fear you’ve conquered throughout the session whirring in your chest.

“Don’t worry, angel,” Jaemin smiles, moving behind you again with hovered hands around your figure. “I’ve got you. You’ve got you.” 

Again, his words dawn on you. All the power in your hands, a feeling your heart wants nothing more than to run towards as you lift up the barbell, strength personified as you wait at the top of your stance, smiling at the “Let’s fucking go, you’re doing it! You’re doing it, angel!” in your ear. You hinge backwards, the weight knocked down to the floor with no tension on your back as expected.

Once you’re upright again, Jaemin engulfs you in a backhug, lifting your figure off the floor and kissing your neck, drawing giggles out of you. Joy moves through your body like warm light at his excitement that exceeds your own, belief not setting in quite yet.

“I can’t believe you,” he coos, the mirror ahead of you capturing the embrace he holds you in, the elation in his eyes as he does nothing but adore you. Like he’s always done. “Actually, I can. You’ve got a laundry list of things you’re good at. Can you believe it?”

“Not originally,” you admit, the confession somewhat bittersweet. “But after this, I think I’d better have more faith in myself.”

Fondness finds itself in his lips again, a kiss against your cheek as he gently guides you out the way, lifting the barbell onto the rack with his gaze in the mirror directed to yours. 

“Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

And you fall into laughter, helping him slid off the weights before flexing in the mirror like you wanted, finding a different strength in yourself with Jaemin by your side.

[skyahri]

Blind |Naruto Men X Uchiha!Reader| HC

Characters: Kakashi Hatake, Shikamaru Nara, Sasuke Uchiha, Naruto Uzumaki, Madara Uchiha, Hashirama Senju

Summary: How they handle their partner losing their sight due to the effects of the Mangekyo Sharingan.

Warnings: Mentions of fem, but not very relevant. Mentions of war and loss of sight.

Masterlist Ko-fi

- - - - -

Kakashi Hatake

He knew the day would come when the Sharingan would take your vision, but he didn't know it'd be so soon.

There were no other eyes available to you at the moment, so eternal was not an option.

Not that'd you do it anyway. It was highly against your beliefs to partake in the Uchiha nonsense that was eye swapping.

Something that drew Kakashi towards you in the first place.

You'd been preparing for this day since you first awakened your mangekyo.

You'd memorized the layout of your apartment, practiced roaming the village in a blind fold, and learned braille.

You'd been coping well, Kakashi... not so much.

He couldn't deal with the knowledge that you'd sacrificed your vision for the sake of the village.

You'd given up everything during your years as a shinobi, and this was the icing on top of the cake.

He'd watch you every day.

Watch you drag your hands across the walls of your apartment. Watch you walk a bit too far past the stall in the market. Watched you struggle to do simple things like grocery shopping.

Over time, you'd become worse and worse at eye contact, and that ate him alive.

There were no more longing looks or sneaky glances. Even your attempts to appear as if you could see were slowly declining, and it dampened his mood every time.

He felt as if he'd failed you. If only he'd been stronger, you wouldn't have had to overuse your doujutsu.

But he stayed quiet because you seemed happy. You were alive and safe and happy, and that's all he could ask for.

Shikamaru Nara

After the war, your vision had completely vanished. There were no blurry shapes or deaf perception problems because there was simply no sight.

There was no time to prepare. You hadn't planned on having to use the mangekyo so much in battle, and the price was astronomical.

He tried to help where he could, but you were being stubborn, constantly rejecting any aid he tried to provide.

"Just let me-"

"I told you I can do it myself."

"No, you can't, just let me-"

And that's when he felt the sobs rack through your body. Tears quickly fell down your face and your hands couldn't keep up.

He sighed and forced everything out of your hands.

"I can't do anything anymore."

"That's not true."

You scoffed, a bitter laugh leaving your lips.

"I can't go grocery shopping or cut fruit or put dishes away without running into everything or breaking something or,"

"Give it time. It'll get better."

"Two weeks ago, I was a shinobi. Today, I'm just a blind girl who can barely feed herself."

Shikamaru wasn't sure what to do. Strategy was easy becausebit was all factual. Feelings, though? So many variables he didn't know where to start.

He confided in Kakashi at some point, but wasn't too pleased with the advice he got it.

"Let her figure it out. She's a smart girl."

Despite thinking it was a stupid suggestion, he listened.

Slowly, over time, you'd regained your confidence and became the capable person you had previously been.

Doesn't stop Shikamaru from uncharacteristically babying you sometimes, though.

Sasuke Uchiha

He offered you his eyes, but you declined.

You weren't fond of Uchiha tradition despite being raised by it. Taking his eyes just felt like you'd be starting the new age Uchiha clan off on the wrong foot.

So you chose blindness.

It was difficult at first, but you quickly learned to get around and help yourself with little to no issue.

You'd gone from stumbling around the kitchen to making yourself breakfast within a few months.

Living with out sight wasn't too bad, and you'd grown accustomed to it. You felt like you'd made the right decision.

Until your first son was born.

It wasn't the parenting aspect that you found difficult, it was the emotional one.

When Sasuke told you your son looked just like Itachi, you knew you'd have to see for yourself.

So, you allowed Sakura to do the transplant.

Within seconds after the bandages were off and you had time to adjust to light, your sight was fully restored.

Sasuke brought in your baby, and wouldn't you know it? He looks exactly like Itachi.

The sharingan is based on strong emotions, yeah? Maybe you can base it on love in the new Era.

Naruto Uzumaki

Unlike the others, Naruto finds the whole eye transplant thing horrendous.

"What do you mean by that, huh? You freaks just trade eyes like around? That's the worst thing I've ever heard."

Although he wasn't happy with your newfound loss of sight, he wasn't one to label anything as a downside.

A setback? Sure. Negative? Never.

Hes overall very patient about it, even if in the moment he gets a little ahead of himself.

He's always forgetting that you're blind, so he'll ask you to look at things all the time.

"Hey, what's this?"

You just shrug. He may or may not bring your hand to the object to get a feel, but he mostly just gets embarrassed and drops it.

It honestly hadn't really dawned on him until he asked you to go train with him and you'd refused.

Sure, you could overtime work yourself up to be a shinobi again, but at this point in your life, that just wasn't the dream anymore.

Madara Uchiha

He thinks you're being stupid.

This world is all about power and you're choosing to be blind?

Idiotic.

You may be his wife, but he ignores you for quite some time after you make it clear there will be no eternal in your future.

It's an easy justification for him; he doesn't mingle with the weak.

Life gets pretty lonely after he decides to completely shut you out. Yeah, he sees Hashirama and makes his round through the compound, but it's not the same.

It isn't until he sees you in the village, going about life as you had months ago, that he starts to think maybe he was too hasty.

After all, he had married you for many reasons, and a big one was how skilled you were at adapting.

That night, when he finally returns home, he decides to sleep in your marital bed, not in the guest room.

The next day, he joins you for breakfast.

He came home early from his duties for the first time in a while.

He even started speaking to you once again.

You don't say anything right away. You know how he is about changing his mind, and you aren't willing to push your luck.

Things slowly get better over the span of a few weeks, and that's when you decide it's time to question him.

"I take it you've come to terms with my decision?"

"Of course not. I still think you're a fool."

Just the answer you'd expect.

"But I have missed you dearly."

You smile at him.

Hashirama Senju

The eternal was never something either of you had considered, so when your vision eventually dulled, it was fully expected.

Times were peaceful at the moment, so he had no need to worry for your safety.

You were almost always near someone willing to lay their life down for you- himself, Tobirama (reluctantly), or Madara - so there truly was no need to stress.

He helped as much as he could while also attending to his duties as Hokage.

Unlike Naruto, he had true patience. He happily held your hand every step of the way.

It wasn't long before your life was back on track, no longer burdened by the anxiety that came with cluelessness.

While Hashirama had preferred it never come to this in the first place, he was happy that things had worked out as best as they possibly could.

[anemoiashifts]

december shifting pick an object reading !

hello ! happy almost christmas to those who celebrate i thought id continue with a general shifting reading & maybe some messages from people in your desired reality. i thought last months reading was a little to general for my liking, so i will be trying to add as much detail / specifics as i can to solidify the feeling that this is made for you.

as always please please don’t force messages to resonate. i do these on the first of every months so they’ll be many more chances to feel connected to a reading if these ones don’t do it for you :) !

bunny ⋆⭒˚｡⋆ 🐇 !

signs : pineapples, snoopy, stained clothing, missing buttons, mars, tree stumps.

you are currently going through some sort of “seasonal depression; some sort of funk. as of recent, you’ve been comparing yourself to your peers. seeing how much they can do & are capable of, it makes your (feelings of) lack amplify & hurt even more. maybe you have some sort of codependent relationship or always feel the need to confide in others approval before a task is complete ? this month you’ll find the motivation to learn new skills & plant the seeds that are needed to trust yourself.

this boils over into your outlook on shifting. people seem to fall into boxes of where they want to shift, have methods that have worked for them, have made a decision in what they’d like to experience in their desired reality. it’s not that you lack a direction, you may know where you’d like to shift. more so an indecisiveness on what you actually want. you want to shift yes, but when you really think on it, you’ve become comfortable where you are. you could struggle to see yourself shifting at all as you are a more analytical person. your someone who is very fact based, you could enjoy doing research & weighing all options before making a decision. things need to make perfect sense to you before you believe in them. this mindset only feeds into what ive mentioned above & could circle back to your feelings of being directionless. the main thing you need is clarity for your manifestations & desires.

this person is someone who is very likely defensive of & true to their beliefs; someone stubborn. birds or turtles may be relevant to them. what this person wants to remind you is consistency is key. you may jump from one project to another without finishing the last; which leaves you as someone who knows a lot of different skills / has aloe of hobbies. you don’t have to be perfect to start something & continue with it. very few people do things the first time & it comes out just how you imaged it. focus on the quality of information rather then the quantity. take this month to create a vision board of some sort. write down what you’d like to accomplish by the end of the upcoming year.

otter ⋆⭒˚｡⋆ 🦦 !

signs : greek lettering, pink slippers, butterfly earrings, long black wrap coats.

in your head, you have “unfinished business” to attend to. so, shifting has been kept on hold for a very long time — years for some of you. it’s always “ill try and shift after i finish my work” or “ill shift when i improve my sleep schedule”. while it’s good to have goals, you’re allowed to work on multiple things at once as long as you balance the two. take this time to reevaluate your priorities & consider what is helping or hurting you. are you really putting off shifting because your room isn’t clean and you have done laundry yet and you have a research paper ? or are you simply not in the mood for it as your mind has wandered else where. do you desire to go to a reality that you have built up in your head or have you grown out of it & would rather fall in love with another desired reality ?

there could also be some sort of desire not to shift at the moment. perhaps you like the holidays & you’re excited for them ? you’re in a stable place right now & shifting is something you fall back onto in times of distress ? however you look at shifting & where you want the future of your relationship to be with the practice later down the line, take time to nurture that vision for yourself.

this person could be someone from your family in your desired reality or a person you would consider family, even if not by blood. this person is a little bit of a player & like you, has moments of lack of direction. while this person can be hotheaded, it’s a good reminder to slow down before lashing out on others. your insecurity doesn’t grant you the right to think negatively of other people. through these moments, this person notices that you struggle to see clearly & your tendency to obsess over small things. focus on the bigger picture.

deer ⋆⭒˚｡⋆ 🦌 !

signs : 88 or 888, farmers markets, lillie’s, historical landmarks, purple lip gloss.

you’re not the kinda person people look at & think that you haven’t been through a lot. on the outside, you look fine. you’ve been very lucky in a lot of ways & you’re able to hold everything together really well.

often a front for something being repressed, you often have an “i don’t care” attitude or come off as really easy to be around & agreeable. you’re someone who doesn’t quite know yourself entirely. while, you recognize you’re a kind person & a good friend, you struggle with a fear of judgement & being ostracized from certain groups if they “knew the truth”. you could’ve or used to have some unconventional hobbies or are into certain subcultures that aren’t the norm.

your desired reality could be a wanted but a shamed one by nobody other then yourself. you have a love of the place of where you’d like to shift but the shame of admitting to yourself that you do consider yourself a shifter, can be a hard to accept. you’re probable someone who lives in constant fear of being “outed” as a one. you’ve gone through the ritual of blocking everyone you know in your personal life & making a mental note of not keeping physical scripts laying around. maybe shifting as a while feels a little elementary to you. even if it isn’t the practice, it could be the places you’d like to shift itself that allow these thoughts to conjure up inside your head. if you are able to work on quieting that noise of shame & insecurity, you will soon have your desired fulfilled. — as I was typing & the time 11:11 appeared on my desktop if that number means anything to you.

the main thing somebody from your desired reality wants you to know is to listen to your dreams. your dreams are apart of your subconscious & your subconscious holds the key to how you operate. if your circadian rhythm is off, take this as a sign to start to get it back on track. i really couldn’t get a read on who this person was, so i assume whoever your thinking of is this person or they prefer to remain anonymous.

thank you for reading. i hope something was able to resonate with you ! ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

[riizebabie444]

𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙚𝙧 𝙞𝙨 𝙢𝙚𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪 🩶

🩶 ─── in this reading, we will explore the qualities of the careers and fields you are best suited for, suggested careers for you and other career messages meant for you.

🩶 ─── picking your pile: take a deep breath and allow your soul to centre itself. when you feel your mind balanced and cleared, allow yourself to be drawn to an image. your eyes may gravitate to one, or you may close your eyes and feel which image is calling out.

🩶 ─── be sure to check out my other readings and don’t forget to share and give feedback. disclaimer: all readings done are for entertainment only. please do not use my tarot readings as a replacement for legitimate advice.

🩶 ─── masterlist. paid readings. exchange rules.

donations. games/events. feedback.

🩶 𝙥𝙞𝙡𝙚 𝙤𝙣𝙚

this is a random message but it is very clear. for some or most of you, the career or field you are wishing to go into at the moment, or the one you are already in, is the right one for you. there is also a message to explore your creative potential. it doesn't necessarily mean creating art like music, writing, paintings etc (although that may be true for some of you) it could also mean creative problem solving, a job which requires you thinking outside the box. working in a field where things are done differently to others in the industry. the image i have in mind is google. they do a lot to encourage creativity and the birth of new ideas. you'd fit best in a career which nurtures and encourages your creative side.

it's also best to be in a career where there is the opportunity to grow in every aspect, and to further your position over the years. for example, i don't think you'd feel comfortable and happy in a job where you stay in the same position for years doing the same thing every single day. some people are happy in those jobs. they like the stability and routine. however, you need a job where you can always learn new things and progress. i'm seeing progression is also important to you. it's important to go into a job where you have more opportunities to climb up the ladder, and it doesn't even need to be all about promotions. a job where you regularly switch tasks, or have new projects to work on. as long as you aren't doing the same things every day, you should avoid jobs which do.

a job where you can express the qualities of success and confidence. where you can prove to yourself and others that you are fully capable. it could also be a career which puts you in the public eye. something that makes you feel seen and appreciated. again, promotions are here. you want a job where you can progress to high places. perhaps even becoming a figure of leadership and authority. you may not be confident about such a position right now but when you find something you love and excel in, you would be the right fit for a leader. and for a number of you, caregiving roles may be good for you. it could be anything from nursing to therapy.

okay so here is where it gets a bit negative. with the three of swords you may experience job losses, or disappointment in being rejected from jobs. it could also indicate that you may end up stuck in a very stressful job and toxic work environment. you want to avoid places like that. however, i believe some of you may need to experience it in order to know what is the right or wrong job and workplace for you. and for a number of you i get the message that even though it is difficult and stressful, and the workplace is not good for your mental health, it will not last. you will find a better job or get promoted and belong in a much better space. so if you ever find yourself in that position, have hope that it will improve. i think it is also a message, especially if you are a leader, to not allow a toxic work environment to foster as it is your duty to ensure it is safe and healthy for everyone to work in.

enterprises might also be something you would work well in. i'm seeing representing small or local businesses, as well as larger corporations for a number of you. it could also be setting up your own business. for some of you, you may have a typical job in mind in order to pay your bills and support a family, but deep down you have a dream of having your own business or brand. at one point or another, you might be torn between keeping your job to pay your bills or leaving it all behind and investing in your own business. i think either is fine, however, for most of you who this applies too, the message is to find a balance between the two. you can work full time and have a passion project/business on the side. work on it slowly and over the years it will blossom, i'm hearing. it is crucial you do not pick between the two and instead find a balance.

to add the obvious, you may dream of being your own boss. and i think you would do amazing things as a leader, however, you still need some sort of discipline or balance from elsewhere. if you're your own boss for too long, you can easily get lazy and complacent. so it is important for you to keep a job elsewhere to ensure you don't lose routine or dedication.

one last message is to expect times of change in your career as much as you should expect times of stagnation. any job you have, you will experience boredom at times and excitement at other times. you need to hear this. jobs are not one dimensional. you should expect many things from your career, both good and bad. so don't get your hopes up too high and don't get too disheartened when things don't go your way.

suggested careers/fields: project manager, hair dresser/hair salon owner, investments, influencer, working up the ladder, franchise owner, higher education, professor, networking, entrepreneur, business law, accountant for local businesses, nursing, social worker, therapist, counsellor, childcare, HR, arts and fashion, selling and/or creating luxury goods, beauty guru, acting, admin, consulting, writer, researcher.

cards: high priestess, the empress, six of wands, three of swords, two of pentacle, wheel of fortune

🩶 𝙥𝙞𝙡𝙚 𝙩𝙬𝙤

i'm immediately hearing decision making. for some of you, a job where you can make the decisions would be good however for most, i am seeing that you may not fit best in careers where important decisions fall in your lap. to get one thing straight, every career will involve decision making at one point or another. but some careers involve very important decision making and i believe when you have too many important decisions to make on a regular basis, you can become very stressed. perhaps you are an indecisive person. overall, i think working in a position that requires heavy decision making would not be the best. however, if you are working with others to make decisions, i think it would be a good career for you.

for most of you, if not all, you will find success in the career of your taking. and for a lot of you, the cards are representing another person in regards to your career. a colleague or a business partner. if you dream of being your own boss, perhaps you would do well sharing this dream with someone else. it could also be a colleague. your career will lead to you meeting someone important. or vice versa, you will meet someone and they will help you get a really good job, the job of your dream. of course be careful, because people who help others often want help in return later down the line.

communication is a key theme here. a job which requires you to communicate your thoughts and ideas. for example, sharing stories as a writer, or even as an academic writer sharing research, or in law by communicating and mediating for your clients. i think for some of you, you would like a position of power. and for others you may not. for those who do, you would do well to use your power and authority for others rather than not doing so. you'd find more fulfilment and success by helping others. and mediating also. taking on communication responsibilities for third parties would be a good career for you. for example, an agent who helps people find jobs and corporations to find employees. hosting job interviews for the people you work for. even ghost-writing, communicating on behalf of the client. again with law. you may also enjoy the feeling of being responsible for transfers, employees, assets, moving companies. anything that involves moving one thing from one place to another.

i'm seeing disputes/conflict. perhaps you may deal with this a lot in your work environment or otherwise, it could mean your career typically involves this. i'm seeing HR settling an issue between employees. things like that. you might naturally be drawn to conflict or drama, and if not you are just interested in it. therefore, a position which allows you to be involved in it as an outsider would be interesting to you. there would always be something new to keep you on your toes. and you would feel very gratified after helping others solve their problems. in environments where there is lack of communication and poor leadership, you would fit in well in the role of solving these issues. it's very much a behind the scenes job but it is incredibly valuable to companies.

you need a job which will not disturb your work life balance. it's best to only take on a career which does not require you to work overtime, or where workload leaks into your private time and life. it is important to have a job where you can work hard, but only within the working hours. a job where you can give fair and honest work and feel appreciated enough to have your own time to spend with loved ones and yourself.

a job where you can always remain unbiased. you may feel uncomfortable picking sides so a place which encourages objectivity would be a good fit for you. you might also enjoy jobs in health and fitness. somewhere that encourages others to do their best. teaching, also. law and order are important also.

a slow paced environment would be perfect for you. fast paced might lead to high levels of stress. so slow paced is better. successful careers are built over time. you're not too fussed about seeing amazing results straight away because you know the best results always come after long and consistent efforts. so jobs which require you to be very patient would be good. you expect all of your work to pay off in the future. because of this, i also thing agricultural industries may be good. the final message is to not be swayed by other people's thoughts and opinions. there may be some people who have hidden motives with you and your career. you may struggle to make good decisions and not know who to trust which may end up with you trusting the wrong people. be careful, and hone in on your intuition because it will help you in the most crucial times of your career.

suggested careers/fields: animal care, justice system, politics, judge, lawyer, sales person, guidance counsellor, public speaking, doctor (not specifically medical but in other fields), self-employed, problem solving, mediator, HR, teacher, auditor, law, financial institutions, health and fitness, farming, gardening/landscaping, charity worker, social worker, engineer, scientist, STEM, activist, telecommunication, journalism, trading, public relations, events manager, customer service, liaison.

cards: the magician, the sun, two of swords rv, five of swords, justice, seven of pentacles, high priestess rv

🩶 𝙥𝙞𝙡𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙚𝙚

overall, this pile feels quiet and mellow. so i think calm jobs that don't involve too much excitement would be good for you. a job that doesn't require far too much effort from you, but you still know exactly what you are doing in the job. which is funny because most of the cards suggest otherwise, but the vibes i'm feeling are different. i randomly heard "beware of snakes" so maybe it is that you want to avoid bad vibes from others. you want to do well and have the personality and potential to perform incredibly (it is represented by the two aces and the magician) but you are afraid of attracting jealousy from others. most of you may believe in nazar, or the evil eye. you want to do well quietly, staying humble and not gaining too much attention from others.

you might want to avoid the overly friendly workplaces, the companies that tell you "we're all like family" because odds are your coworkers will be all up in your business when you don't want them to be. and more often that not, they may not like to see of hear about you doing well. of course, you can choose whichever company you want yo work for, this is all subjective. however, the message is strong here to not let coworkers get too close. if you feel like you need to be cautious, do not doubt it at all. jobs where you can work independently or remotely may be good for you. i think you enjoy the responsibilities and the isolation you can get from those jobs. you can really focus on your own work instead of worrying about socialising and networking (which are important, don't get me wrong but i think you are not the type of person to be heavily involved in such activities).

technology and IT. jobs where you're required to use your brain. you need mental and intellectual stimulation so jobs which require lots of brainwork would be great for you. also jobs which require you to have a sharp and quick mind, and even a quick tongue. a job where you need to respond quickly, on the spot. maybe as a lawyer or judge. i think you are the type of person who tends to avoid making decisions but i believe the best career for you would involve you needing to make decisions as a part of it.

i also see jobs where you can provide stability for others as well as providing stability for yourself. this could mean that setting up your own business to help or guide others would give you a lot of satisfaction. such as a personal trainer, life coach, dietician etc anything that will allow you to improve the lives of others. you could even be thinking of starting your own sales company. i'm seeing a position where you are calm, smart, and powerful. logical and rational, and also honest. key organisational abilities here, like secretarial duties. a job where you can keep things organised tightly.

there is a huge duality here. like, i see you craving to be a bold and confident person in your ideal job, someone who is admired by others but in reality you are afraid to be that person. maybe you are not used to being in the spotlight and you're not ready to start now. so you must find a balance between the two. you can be confident without needing to be in the spotlight. i think your biggest fear in regards to career is conflict. you want to avoid uneasy workplace relationships. you don't want to be too close with your coworkers but at the same time you don't want to be left out. you want to perform well and show off how good you are at what you do but you're terrified of other people being jealous of you. there's not much i can say other than jealousy is often rooted in workplaces. no matter where you work, there will always be others who are jealous of you, some places more than the next. however, what matter the most is your own comfort and confidence. don't admit to defeat out of fear of others. if you love a job. go for it. i'm literally hearing it right now. don't let your fear of others hold you back, but always be careful about what you share.

suggested careers/fields: IT, psychiatry, surgeon, engineer, affiliate marketing, life coach, personal trainer, fertility, army and police, investigations, detective, guide, translator, business job, nine to five, desk job, logistics, bargaining, vlogger, running your own business, innovation, writer, interior design.

cards: ace of swords, ace of pentacles, the magician, king of swords, five of swords, two of swords, nine of wands

🩶 𝙥𝙞𝙡𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙪𝙧

i cannot say this first paragraph is for all of you however, it will resonate with some of you. the career you have in mind right now, or the one you are currently in, is not the right one for you. i see there needs to be some change or transformation in your career. of course it is not easy to just change career. but if you feel this message is for you, it might be worth looking into a new career which is more worth your time and effort. there is a decision that needs to be made. if you're thinking of switching careers/field, this paragraph and reading is definitely for you.

overall, i'm seeing two different sides to this pile. one side is an authoritarian side, position of power and respect. while the other is more caring and nurturing. your ideal career could be either of those, or both. i see a number of you preferring to be in a job with explicit structure. a jobs that tells you what you need to do. so you know what you need to do every day and there is no confusion over tasks or responsibilities. but at the same time, you want to have some freedom. every day cannot be the same or you'll get bored. that is why is see jobs involved in childcare. you know your responsibilities in regards to caring for children, but with children, no day will be the same. this could also be caring for animals, elderly people, people with disabilities or other vulnerable people.

and although jobs where you can connect with children would be good, any job which can allow you to connect with others in general is a good choice. particularly, partnerships. a business partnership would be great as you can connect with others as well as structure your own enterprise. and since you rely on a structure from others to keep you in order, having other people work with you in an enterprise can keep you in line. also, if you know about the principal agent theory, i think you would perform well as an agent. you do well when performing tasks on behalf of a principal. in addition, when you are working for someone else, you know what you are doing, and what you need to achieve in order to satisfy them. whereas if you are working entirely for yourself, you might often feel confused about what needs to be done.

practical jobs which require thinking (but not too much thinking) would be great for you. you like to be actively involved, both physically and mentally, in your work which means repetitive jobs that have you on autopilot most of the time would be too draining and unsatisfying for you. but still, i think you would greatly appreciate professional settings and/or professional boundaries. i believe some of you may also work well in a field which is somehow connected to your past. for example, if you grew up with financial difficulties, you would be most satisfied in finance. or if you had a difficult childhood, then you would enjoy giving care to children. if you really enjoyed school, you might be most comfortable working in a school. it's that kind of theme and is entirely subjective to your own experiences. but something from your childhood connecting with your career is relevant.

one message here is to let go of insecurities and jealousy and imposter syndrome. because you want to be the best of the best, and you compare yourself to others a lot. you might often feel inclined to outdo others. it's a normal feeling, but the cards here are saying to let go of those thought habits. it will not bring you anything good. building up a successful and stealthy career for yourself will greatly be based on creating a foundation from your values as well as your passion. so don't sabotage yourself or others for your own success. keep in line with your morals. spiritual guidance also comes up here. so perhaps seek some in order to overcome these traits, and maybe consider it as a part of your career.

i can't tell your stance on risk, i feel it is a mixed bunch here. some of you may like taking risk while others do not. if you feel like a career which involves risk is something you are interested in, the cards do tell you that it is a very important decision, however, you must make calculated risks. don't just take the leap of faith. you need a thorough plan. i also see something creative, like art or writing, maybe even food. take it as it resonates and if you feel attracted to pile one also, give it a read because that is the creative pile.

suggested careers/fields: hierarchy, desk job, large corporations, teaching, childcare, primary school, paediatric, healthcare, hospital, banking, army, tax, career advisor, funeral director, financial advisor, insurance, software engineer, therapist, lecturer, spiritual guide, bookkeeping, church, electricity/energy, power plants, technology, chef.

cards: the lovers, death, king of pentacles, six of cups, four of pentacles, the hierophant, the fool, two of swords

© riizebabie444 — all rights reserved. please do not copy, steal, repost or translate my readings on any site. any act of which will be classed as plagiarism.

[mraprilfools]

Summary: After losing a bet to Charlie, Vox must make an earnest effort at the Hazbin for 3 months! During this time, Alastor and Vox's rivalry starts to clash and evolve in ways they didn't expect before his check out. Along the way, Alastor discovers a disturbing parallel that makes him unable to turn his eyes away.

Pairing: Alastor x Vox

Word Count:~10k

Contents/CW: Domestic Violence Heavily Implied, Banter, Bittersweet ending, Neither Idiots know how they feel about each other, Hurt/Comfort, A little Fluff

“I do not approve of your methods, hence our partnership became incompatible. But you are the reflection of the most exquisite and beautiful underbelly of humanity. The natural and artificial, Man and Beast, nature and nurture. Without one, we could never become fully aware of the beauty of one another”

Full Story under the cut

“It’s a deal then! If I win then you’ll give The Hazbin Hotel a genuine shot for three months! After that, you can leave!”

Those were the terms Vox agreed to in a gamble with the starry-eyed princess. The promise of getting cameras inside of the hotel was far too tempting for him to refuse. The problem was, Charlie was far better at chess than he’d anticipated. It was uncanny, and the glee as she embraced her girlfriend over her victory still rang in his ears weeks later.

The first month and a half was miserable. Alastor was there to taunt him at every turn, ridiculing his performance at every group activity even while he refused to participate. That taunting smile always watching with half-lidded eyes. But Charlie helped soothe that angry green beast eating away inside of him.

More than anything it was her encouragement and genuine praise that soothed it. After activities she’d even pull him aside and praise him for his work; more so when he put in a genuine effort. Before long, he started to enjoy his stay at the hotel and Alastor’s words started to have less of an effect on him.

Robbed of the joy of bringing Vox to provocation and revealing the ugliest side of him, Alastor finally invited himself into the activities. He carelessly let it slip the two used to be friends, something they both came to regret. As Charlie made it her new mission to reconcile their friendship.

It worked better than expected.

They fit back together like a puzzle piece they never knew they were missing. During the dancing competition, they blew everyone away. Vox knew exactly how to work and move in a kitchen to assist Alastor giving him exactly as much control over the main dish as possible. Charades, pictograph, the two worked on a wavelength that could have only been forged in decades of friendship.

But there was one place where they faltered: Trivia. Vox refused to answer a single question about The Radio Demon. But Alastor was ready to answer each one in exquisite detail, especially if it was embarrassing.

They ended up losing to Angel Dust and Cherri Bomb. Charlie attempted to assuage their duo’s bruised ego, but it was a pointless effort. Losing never felt good. With his head turned, Alastor commented, “Unbelievable. I know I make it a point to remain a mystery but have you truly learned nothing about me these past seventy years Vox?”

Vox clicked his tongue, brusquely turning his screen away as well. Even if he was forced to sit next to him, he still wanted nothing more than to strangle his neck. “I remember plenty. But those were all things you told me in confidence. Unlike you, I am capable of being the bigger man.”

Unexpectedly the radio signals that Alastor gave off then had a strange whine, one that Vox recognized to mean he was confused at the moment. Another reason he hated his presence so close, the radio waves were always louder when he was right next to him. They gave him a damn headache.

“How darling. The Princess's lessons are working. Should I expect you to be checking out by the end of your short stay here darling?” Alastor chuffed, rising from his seat. The frayed edges of his coat were smacked down, with Niffty running underfoot at that exact moment chasing a roach. Fondness temporarily broke the strained expression on the demon’s face.

Vox could only bark a raspy laugh. “Can you imagine? After all the shit I’ve done for over a hundred years, forgiven in three months because I learned how to say please and thank you? Or how to not plaster my former friend's secrets all over the media.”

Alastor’s fingertips tugged on the silken black ribbon on his neck, introspective. “You’re right. That would be quite the gaffe. I have no question you’d be stuck here forever, bumbling your way up near the top only to fall. You were born and doomed to be a failure Vox, and always will be.”

Vox clenched his fist, electricity dancing upon his palms. But before he could fire off a retort, it was Charlie who had unexpectedly jumped in. “Alastor! You’re also a host of the hotel, and Vox used to be your friend. Doesn’t that count for anything? You should be supporting them.” The blonde tried her best to get in the face of the elegant overlord, cheeks puffed out in some hilarious attempt to be more intimidating.

All the malice bubbling in Alastor’s chest faded at the sight, with genuine laughter spilling from his lips. He jabbed a finger into one of her cheeks, releasing an unflattering noise like flatulence. Charlie quickly bats his hand away.

“I’m serious Alastor. I think it’s sweet that Vox has honored a promise even when things between you aren’t great now. It shows just how important you are to him don’t you think? So don’t you think you can spare him at least a kind word?” Charlie refused to let herself be dissuaded.

Vox quickly cut in, “I never said Alastor was important to me. I was only trying to--”

“Very well.” Alastor agreed, ignoring Vox’s protests. The easy agreement shocked Vox to silence, stance quickly became guarded. Shoulders raised ready for some backhanded compliment. Alastor turned to face his former friend.

“Charlotte is quite correct. As the host of this hotel, I cannot believe I forgot something as simple as that. It won’t happen again. You are as always a surprisingly adaptable and quick learner Vox, making frightening progress that many of our guests have struggled with for far longer. And they come from a much shallower pit. Though your stay is only for a short four weeks longer, I hope you’ll consider extending it.”

Vox wanted to cut in halfway to say that wasn’t an apology, but the genuine praise had shocked him to pure silence. How genuine it was-- he doubted. He felt certain Alastor wanted him out of the Hotel as soon as possible. But it didn’t stop the bit of heat rushing to his screen, dusting his face in a light blue color.

“Thank you. But I’m still dead set on leaving the instant my end of the deal. The deal was that I make a genuine effort, so I am. That’s all.” Vox pointed an accusing claw directed at Alastor’s chest. Trying to mask his embarrassment with anger.

A pleased smile began to dance upon the malignant man’s face when Angel Dust brusquely ruined the good mood.

“Damn! Lookit Plasma! He’s all blue!” Pointing it out of course, only made him lose further color on his screen, now becoming a near white.

“Quit it, Angel,” Vaggie warned the porn star.

“What?! The man’s been standing by watching Valentino make my life a shit-hole for years! I have earned at least a little teasing!” Angel threw up four hands, kicking one leg over the other.

“He’s here making a good effort to redeem himself. Mocking others when they’re embarrassed even if you see them as your enemy won’t get you into heaven.” Vaggie interjected.

“Vaggie’s right Angel! You wouldn’t like it if we all teased you when you got all red would you?” Charlie added in. The moment everyone’s attention started to shift to Angel Dust, Vox took advantage of that and retreated up the stairs.

“Pssh, I don’t turn red! I’ve had more more than a single dick in all my holes, simultaneously! Ain’t NOTHING that can make me blush no more. I’d love to see somebody try.” Angel smugly argued, throwing two arms around the arms of the couch.

Husk lowered the bottle he’d been nursing long enough to dangle between his knees as he shot a glance Angel’s way. “A shame, you’d look real pretty with a bit of blush.” The mouth of the bottle connected back with his lips, taking a deep pull not even giving acknowledgment to the furious color he’d inspired on the spider. Only the faintest tug on the corner of his lips showed he knew what he was doing.

The familiar pattern of heart-warming bonds and laughter could inspire warmth in most, but Alastor only could exist on the fringes of such days. His mind was on the former companion who thought he’d escaped everyone’s notice. He followed Vox up the stairs after his hasty retreat.

It wasn’t hard to catch the man, as soon as he sensed Alastor on his tail he spun around and put up his metaphorical hackles. Electricity danced along his body, coils raised and poised to defend himself. It was quite impressive how ready he was to fight with him at the drop of a hat. Alastor continued as if it were nothing, waving him off.

“Oh please, you can calm down dear. While you are a guest of this hotel, I guarantee your safety. When you check out, well that’s another matter. You have my word.” The sincerity of that statement, he hoped to drive home with an elegant hand pressed over his chest.

Vox’s fingers flexed into a fist, then released along with the rest of the tension in his body. The air still crackled with the remnants of charge in the air, but Alastor wasn’t bothered. It was a familiar sensation, one he was quite fond of even if he’d never admit it. The two may be foils, but they were still both media demons. They were able to affect the senses of one another in ways no other could.

“Then, what do you want? I wanted to go to bed early. These redemption activities are ten times more exhausting with you.” Vox’s bitter tone had an artificial flavor to it. Even his stance couldn’t completely turn away from him. One foot still pointed his way, hands on his hips.

Alastor struggled for an answer. He filled the silence with a heavy-handed gesture of holding his chin and leaning his head to and fro. “When it was between entertaining the guests downstairs and your company… that is simply what I chose. Perhaps all these activities are making me grow far too comfortable with your presence again.”

Vox cautiously looked around the hall. Only settled on Alastor when he was sure they were alone. First, there was a bend in his brows of a man ready to cruelly reject him, but no words could come out. Vox was a dishonest man, even to himself. Refusing to meet Alastor’s eyes, he motioned for him to follow him further up the stairs. “I can spare ten minutes if you don’t mind how cold it is outside right now.”

“Nonsense. And even if I did, I can handle a little chill for ten minutes.” Alastor waved off the concern, brushing past the once wary overlord. With an audible huff, Vox followed Alastor who had stolen the lead.

The double doors that kept out the night air whooshed as the hot air from inside rushed outside. It was nippy, but only comparatively for Hell. For a man who had lived in Hell for a century, he’d long since become accustomed to the blazing inferno’s constant heat. And Vox, whose body was always frozen to the bone couldn’t maintain it for anything. Alastor made himself comfortable nestled in the corner of the balcony, elbow planted on the corner with his profile staring out over the city that glittered in what counted for the night in Hell.

Vox couldn’t get quite as comfortable. Hands thrust into his pocket, he lingered on the further end of the balcony well out of reach of the other. Refusing to even look at the company he’d begrudgingly accepted tonight. His view of the empire laid out before him was more of something waiting to be taken by his hand.

“It’s weird. Almost feels like the old days but, a whole lot less bloody. The bartender also knows us a little more than I’d like” Vox broke the silence, one hand uplifted from his pocket in some attempt to break the ice that settled back over.

“Indeed.” Alastor couldn’t deny that. His crimson gaze drifted over to the figure leaning against the rail. There was no trace of the gentleness that once existed in that man. Everything soft had been carved out and the festering wounds walled off until he’d become a rather model example of a demon. His interior was starting to reflect his exterior in every way. “You’ve changed a lot, but it’s comforting to know that some things will continue to stay the same.”

“Funny you say that. I find it more comforting that things… can change. Us talking right now, that is change. If there is a possibility that you can I can ever be something other than enemies again, It could only happen-- because something has changed.”

Alastor had broken away from his perch in the corner, coming to stand a little closer to his old friend. Not enough to touch, but enough so he could feel the familiar static of the other media overlord tickle his senses. “We’re talking, but you're right it’d be premature to say we’re anything but foes! Once you’re out of this Hotel, why there is nothing to stop me from trying to hunt you right down.”

Vox barked a laugh. “You couldn’t catch me back then, couldn’t catch me now! And let’s say I did agree to give this silly hotel a shot after this month is up. How long can you vigilantly keep watch until I check out from under your nose?” Vox grinned wickedly, finally meeting Alastor’s gaze.

The Radio Demon rolled his eyes, now seating himself on the railing. One leg extended, the other woven between the bars as his support. A hand planted on each side while his unwavering gaze never left the artificial eyes of the Tech Overlord. “Then I guess I’ll have to keep my eye on you until then. I’m a patient man, we’ll see who breaks first. Me or you.”

Vox met his challenge, flashing a boastful grin. “Be careful to not oversleep then Alastor, or I’ll slip out from right under your nose.”

Hell had begun to grow dull in the growing decades. There were only so many ways you could prey, tear apart, and terrify the helpless before it became dull and routine. But the back and forth of a rival who challenged him? It was invaluable for staving off the ennui of his existence. Vox didn’t need or want to change him. Vox was the whetstone that honed his cruelty and his claws.

“I had forgotten how much fun it was to have you around. Would you like to make a bet Vox?”

Vox brushed his claw beneath his screen, sucking through his teeth in consideration. “Hmm- sure. Depends on what we’re wagering of course, and the terms of course.

The cherry-tipped hand slid against the guard rail, bringing his body closer to Vox as he whispered to him in a volume that could be easily swallowed by the wind. “If I manage to catch you before you make it back to that little tower of yours, we get to keep you for another three months. If you manage to slip away without using your… powers to slip away through the power lines I’ll refrain from sabotaging your cameras and men for three months.”

“That’s hardly fair.” Voxargued. “Things would get boring without you around. How about this instead, if I manage to slip away without my powers then you have to get a new beeper.”

“A beeper?” Alastor repeated, having to hide the laughter beneath his fist. “And what good would that do you?”

With a confident smile, Vox spun to face Alastor with his screen supported against the back of his hand. “To keep in contact of course. I trust you still know how to get a hold of me through the Radio. I work late at night, so the company would be nice once in a while. I know you’re always up until the asscrack of dawn.”

The period when most of the world was asleep was indeed a lonely one. Alastorusually would his hours away with Jazz, books, pondering his machinations, or the occasional late-night hunt. But a conversation with a man who had more than a couple of brain cells to rub together and not ruled by his lower head? It was an attractive proposition. “Very well.” Alastor conceded. “On the condition that my company will only be given when I decide to. No more and no less.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way. I take it a verbal agreement’s enough?”

Typically no. Alastor thought about it for only a moment. Bothwagers sounded pleasant enough that he could take either. He had to not think very hard about the fact both meant he’d be hearing a lot more of Vox. “Very well! If you don’t hold your end of the bargain I’ll simply drag you back kicking and screaming I suppose.”

A fist was raised as Vox cleared his throat, hiding the dusting of light blue that danced across his screen. A long drawn silence settled between the two. Vox tried to not think about how enticing that thought was either, trying to push it away with an abrupt change of subject.

“Your favorite color is red. Like blood. Not the kind that spills from a flesh wound, but darkened and festered under a wound. Your favorite Song is Smile by Chaplin, but sometimes you’re more fond of Never Fully Dressed Without a Smile. A secret you don’t tell anyone else is you don’t like dogs. Your favorite flowers are white daisies. And… you have this habit of twitching your right ear when you’ve caught somebody in a lie.”

Alastor was dumbfounded as this stream of information about himself was related all at once. Admittedly flattering, but it felt like a non sequitur.

“The answers to Trivia tonight. To show you, I knew the answers. They’re right, aren’t they?” Vox answered. There was a dance in those technicolor eyes, searching for some rare honesty from the Radio Demon.

Before Alastor realized it, his smile had become more genuine, softer around the edges. “I’m surprised you bothered to remember so much useless information.”

“As did you, Alastor. You aced every question tonight.”

A gentle wind tugged and pulled at his hair, feeling almost refreshing. As if it didn’t reek of death and decay, and carried with it a height he didn’t know he’d been carrying this whole time. The two slowly took one another closer, making the vast distance that much smaller. “They’re right. Do you remember… that night at Franklin’s bar? It was shortly after we ‘took care’ of Mimzy’s ex. You ended up drinking far too much, and started flirting with a lampshade.”

An intense bright blue blush immediately covered Vox’s screen. “I don’t rememb---” The phone in Vox’s pocket began to ring, cutting him off. With an apologetic smile, he raised a finger.

“One moment.” He spun around to check the name on the display. Valentino. He hung up, tucking it back into his pocket with a mental note to call him back later. But not even two seconds later the infernal ringtone came back.

Alastor impatiently watched the scene, keeping his head propped through the use of his palm. His distaste was clear with the way his ears pinned back. It was tempting to snatch the device and dash it against the concrete.

The process repeated for a third time, and with a heavy sigh and resignation, Vox answered the phone. Some attempt at privacy as he held his palm over the receiver. A pointless gesture, as Valentino’s screaming from the other line nearly blew out his ‘ear’.

“Vox! When the fuck are you coming back from that tacky little hotel?! One of my newest girls has fucked off with another pimp! I need your help! I want to know everything about this fucking pendejo!”

“Val.” Vox began, summoning what spoons he had to deal with the situation. “My bet with the hotel is still in motion for another month. Just hold out for a little while longer and we’ll deal with this other pimp when I get back.”

“You think I CARE about that? What about me, Vox? You’ve been sitting in a circle singing Ring Around the Rosies with a bunch of buzz kills making nice while I’ve been having the WORST of times without you. You can get off slacking with your fucking arts and crafts for ten minutes.”

“Do I have to remind you that I am here against my will? I said I’d help you with it when I get back so just--”

“YOUR SELFISH LITTLE PRICK! YOU ONLY CARE ABOUT YOURSELF! I bet the real reason you’re blowing me off is because you’re fucking Alastor right now, aren’t you? I catch you fucking him? Sucking on his big fat shlong? Well, I DON’T need you! Go choke on it!”

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

Without even a chance to respond, the other end of the line hung up. Stunned to silence, Vox silently exhaled and shut off his phone. When he met Alastor’s gaze, the demon simply cocked his head. “Sorry, seems I’ll have to cut this short. If I leave Valentino alone he’ll end up trashing the entire tower. I need to go calm him down in person.”

“Now now.” Alastor began, “You promised to stay here for another month my dear. No amount of temper tantrums going on back home can have you breaking that contract.” A dark feeling nestled in Alastor’s chest, something he struggled to define. But he knew that its source was Vox leaving right now to tend to that unsightly moth.

“I’m not being held here under house arrest though, I’m only told to make an earnest effort. Stopping by the tower for a few hours to calm down a child isn’t going back on that. I’ll be back when he’s stopped his rampage.” Vox replied. He hung his head, and for the first time, Alastor had a glimpse. A brief look into the kind of life Vox lived inside the Vee’s tower. Like magic, the once exhausted man’s face transformed into a picture-perfect smile.

It felt completely inhuman, sterile, and false.

He watched the retreating back of his rival, but in that flash of a moment, he saw the beautiful smile of his mother ready to face his father and her figure disappearing into a place where he could not follow her. The march of somebody ready to stand before a monster for the umpteenth time.

And a haunting question lingered. Did she ever look as exhausted as Vox did at that moment before she put on that brave smile to face the world?

That question was his companion in the hours after everyone went to bed, sitting in his reading chair with a book that had only sat open in his lap. The bookmark pinched between his fingers showcasing his hope, but not the reality. It was only when he heard the telltale footsteps in the hall that he finally looked up. It was almost 2 in the morning, several hours past the time he wanted to go to bed. The click of the door several down the halls said Vox had kept his word and returned.

Alastor hated to admit it, but he was curious as to what could be so important to have Vox called away. But he filed it away as not his business and returned to his book.

Once the ice had been shattered, it was closer to fighting a magnet drawing them back together more than anything else. They often found themselves lingering by the bar as Husk served drinks, speaking of nostalgic days and the latest group activities. Or work and the little acts of inspired cruelty they’d acted upon. When they got deep enough in their cups they’d even sing and dance, once Vox even tried to play his acoustic guitar but the strings snapped from lack of care over the years. Alastor mended them and they played together until the Radio Demon fell asleep on his shoulder.

By the end of the month, they were even finding excuses to spend more time together. Vox began to volunteer his help in the kitchen when Alastor offered to cook. He would even linger in the lobby making an effort to speak to everyone instead of squirreling himself away in his room immediately. Alastor even showed Vox around his new Radio Tower, with some strict stipulations he did not touch anything. The sight of hell through that red-paned glass over a glass of whiskey quickly became three and five.

The bonds that Vox once held with Husk and Niffty were reforged bit by bit. Husk and Vox had more than a little chemistry complaining about the Radio Demon when they thought his ears couldn’t reach. Vox’s endless patience and paranoia around Niffty had made their games delightful to watch as she strung up necklaces of roach corpses to drape around his neck. And each of them was at least a little curious about the way their lives had diverged.

Yet…

Some nights, those same calls from Valentino would pull Vox away. With apologies, he’d dismiss himself. And his return always came in the early hours of the morning, with Vox looking a little more hollow the next morning.

Once in the middle of an exercise he’d even been pulled away. Alastor tried to stop him, it was a clear infringement on his deal and he felt justified keeping his claws dug into his old friend at least this one time.

Everyone was meant to give something important to another in the group and speak of its significance. A sweet and endearing game no doubt. It was no dumb luck that the two had become each other's recipients too and after agonizing it for so many hours he even found something suitable to offer.

And still, Charlie gave her blessing! Her lessons with Angel Dust and Valentino had scarred her in a way he never thought would backfire on him!

Valentino would have Vox for the rest of eternity, and beyond all of Alastor’s expectations he found himself feeling bitter he couldn’t tolerate letting them have him for three meager months.

Vox didn’t come home until near dawn.

Alastor had been reading the same page in this book for the past half an hour, unable to absorb a single word. If anyone asked him what he just read, he couldn’t give them a single clue. There was something different to Vox’s gait, uneven weight on each foot that was the tell-tale sign of a limp. As his eyes uselessly poured over another sentence he snapped the tome shut and slammed it onto his table.

Alastor tugged on his bow tie and slipped into the shadows. It was imperative he caught him unaware. If he had made himself known, no doubt that daft little picture box would hide his weakness. He should, as any rightful Overlord should.

But Alastor’s curiosity was too great to see what exactly happened in that tower to have him returning in such a state. He stepped out right from Vox’s own shadow, and immediately his nostrils caught the coppery scent of blood. His pupils turned into pinpricks immediately. Most of it was red and smelled of that insect always stinking of unnatural roses. Though there was a trace of that thick coppery scent of Vox’s blue blood staining the clothes around his torso.

A dark screen turned to face him, eyes bright red with crackling claws ready to strike. A wounded animal was the most dangerous, something Alastor had not forgotten so he couldn’t fault him. He leaped back in time, clicking his tongue as if scolding a child.

When Vox realized who it was, the familiar blue face returned, but he was no less suspicious. “What is it? I’m not in the mood to entertain you right now.”

“I couldn’t help but hear you limping like a rabbit with a broken foot, my dear. Frankly, you are lucky I had not decided to bite into your neck. Luckily I am honor-bound. Your ‘talk’ with the moth did not go well it seems.” Alastor motioned to the bloody and battered body of the Overlord. Alastor then noticed another oddity. The screen itself was pristine, but the frame was filthy with blood.

Vox turned his back to Alastor and his concern. Stumbling toward his room as was his original goal. “We got into a fight. It happens. I’ll heal up enough to attend whatever activity we’re doing tomorrow I promise. But I need to get some sleep now.”

Alastor ignored Vox, following him right into his bedroom. Even if his stay was temporary, it was still kept… dreadfully bare. The only hint of a man living there was some day-old laundry sitting in a chair and a singular stuffed shark on the bed. “You need some assistance. Charlie would no doubt say something about accepting a hand from a friend when you’re in need. And you-- are in need.”

Vox whipped back around, teeth bared in a silent snarl when he saw his intruder follow him inside. “I don’t need your help, Al! I’m used to this! I don’t need anyone’s help, especially yours. You may not be out to hurt me now, but you are more than capable of manipulating a weak point when you see one later. I can’t trust you won’t use this against me later.” All his performative rage was a mask. He could smell the fear on him, and the way his body shivered from the recollection of his ‘fight’.

Normally fear would make his mouth water and wish to bite down on the source. Tonight proved to be a confounding exception. When he saw Vox, he also saw the wooden door to his mother’s bedroom refusing to let him in even when he could hear the wailing. No, the only one he wanted to set those teeth upon was that disgusting pimp. His teeth clenched, and his mouth salivated at the prospect as the dark anger simmered in his chest.

“That’s hardly necessary Vox. If I wanted to destroy you, I don’t need to suss out some weakness or another. I...” The proud man didn’t know what to say. It came out with a sigh. “Hate seeing you like this. As my rival, my old friend, and something a little more I can’t put a word to.”

Vox clenched his claws around the wound on his side. He grimaced as he weighed his choices. It didn’t come easily but he gradually eased the tension in his shoulders. “Fine. Could get me a wet rag so I can wipe myself down and change? I’ll worry about undressing myself.”

The door was opened. Instead of pushing the injured man to accept more help than he was willing to take he obliged. One of his shadow servants was called and ordered with a wordless gesture.

In the meantime, Vox was already undressing, removing his blazer first and then his bow tie. The sweater underneath was torn and ragged. It was more like peeling off strips of rags than a shirt anymore. Alastor could see the… exhaustion and emptiness in Vox at that moment. The resignation was like he was having some out-of-body experience removing his clothes.

Dark blue skin revealed itself, with hardened glass along his ribs where the inner workings of the bio-mechanical man could be seen. Not quite man, not quite machine. Weaving of flesh and metal in an unholy harmony that powered his life for the past seventy or so years. Dark purplish bruises rose like dark flowers on his skin, marking the places clearly where the moth had put his hands earlier.

Did his mother also look like this when she nursed her wounds and covered her bruises in the mirror the next morning?

Alastor had to rip his eyes away. He’d be lying if he couldn’t appreciate the beauty of blood pooling beneath the skin, but only if he had been the culprit to put it there. And only to the animals who deserved it. Vox was a horrible man, but he wasn’t a brute. He had once been his dearest friend.

As Vox tossed the last of the bloody scraps of cloth onto the chair, he could hear the telltale steps of his shadowy minion returning with the wet cloth. He dismissed it back to the void to play with the others once he retrieved it.

“What are you planning to do with those?” Alastor asked.

Vox only showed a bit of life in his face again when Alastor’s voice reminded him he wasn’t alone. He glanced at the bloody pile and shrugged. “Burn it I guess? It’s ruined now. I have spares anyway, this happens all the time.”

There was a flash of recognition in Vox’s eyes as he realized what it was he just said. He spun around, hastily adding, “That is! We get into fights all the time. But I always give him worse than I get. The man seriously never learns.” All the grandstanding in the world couldn’t make that smile of his match his eyes.

“I’m hardly surprised. That moth is truly a brute. He represents all the worst in humanity, I never did like him.” The minion returned moments later, the wet cloth clutched in his hands. Alastor took the cloth and was just about to put it against one of the bloody wounds when a cold claw settled around his wrist. Cold metal met bone, harsh and painful. But not unpleasant...

“I said I’ll take care of it.” Vox reminded him. With resignation, the deer let him take it and tucked both his hands behind his back. The chill of the hand lingered long past their release. With a shoulder turned to block Alastor from view, he watched the other man through the corners of his eyes. Squinting when they locked eyes.

“What now?” Alastor asked.

“Stop… watching. It’s weird.”

“Tch.” With an exaggerated roll of his eyes, Alastor spun around. “You say that as if I might gawk like some cretin. I’m honestly offended.” The offense was even genuine. His right ear continued to bat and flick with annoyance.

“I can’t… settle down if you’re looking at me.” Vox begrudgingly admitted. When he was sure Alastor wasn’t looking, he started to clean the blood. He was more careful the closer he came to the edge of his wounds where the flesh was still tender. The shadowy minion held up a bucket so he could wring the cloth and mop up more of the conjoined purplish blood.

“We’re both gentlemen. I hardly see any reason for it to put you in disarray. I’ve seen more than enough on the dance floor I assure you. And it wouldn’t even be the first time you’ve been shirtless around me.” Alastor argued. He’d patched up Vox numerous times over the decades. When he’d gotten into fights too big for his britches, or repairing his screen.

“I know but-- things are different right now. You wouldn’t want me to see you injured would you?”

A good point, one that Alastor didn’t bother to answer. Silence was just as good, so Vox asked his next question,

“Do you happen to have a first aid kid anywhere? I need to bandage this wound.”

With something to do, Alastor opened his pocket dimension with the flick of his wrist. A medical kit was retrieved and held out without him ever turning his head. For the briefest moment, blue and red clashed as their fingertips touched. Vox took the medical kid and laid it out on the dresser inside.

Alastor filled the silence as Vox went through the motions of patching up his wound. Fumbling with keeping the pad in place while he tried to adhere it to place with the gauze roll. After stretching his arm out too far one way the pad slipped through onto the floor. “Tch! Damn it, get back here...”

From the corner of his eyes, Alastor watched Vox bend down to pick it up and try again. Unable to sit and watch, Alastor shook his head and took both the gauze and the pad from his hands.

“Give that here, we’ll be here all night if you insist on doing it yourself.” He adhered to the pad and applied the gauze personally.

Vox’s whole body went stiff, head bent back trying to ignore how close Alastor was then. He could feel the radio waves wavering with concern, and something else he struggled to recognize. Their years apart had put many mysteries. But he was certain of one thing, there was no malice.

His shoulders relaxed as he let Alastor take the lead, watching him keep the bandages tight but not restrictive. When he was done he grabbed one of Vox’s hands and used a finger of his to cut it clean like a blade.

“Excuse you?” Vox exclaimed, face bright blue now. The incredulity in Vox’s voice inspired laughter from the Radio Demon.

“You are excused, my lad.”

“Wh- NO! You just used my fingers like a knife! Without asking.”

“Indeed I did. And now you are bandaged. Here you are, old friend.” Without a hint of an apology, he thrust the bandage roll back into Vox’s unwitting hand. The middle of the roll slid between his thumb, resting against his palm.

“Thank you…?” Vox’s voice was fragile, feeling a mixture of gratitude and confusion for how quickly Alastor had demolished the walls he’d been guarding so carefully.

The gratitude was unnecessary, but Alastor silently accepted it with a nod of his head. His aid wasn’t even for Vox’s sake, only his. Though he wished that was the case when he saw how much gentler Vox’s expression was at that moment.

“Of course, watching you flail about would have ruined my perfectly peaceful reading time. Now-- are you hungry? Or will you be able to sleep without interruption?”

Cyan claws traced over the bandaged wound. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. Thanks again Al… you won’t tell anyone what happened tonight will you?”

Alastor lingered by the door, already making his exit now that his business was done. “Hm...” A crimson-tipped finger tapped his chin. “I suppose tonight can stay our little secret. Goodnight Vox.” The door closed behind Alastor, almost as if it was by its own accord.

A month was going by quickly. Too quickly.

The two were only starting to recapture the laughter that used to have. Laughter that would have Alastor spilling out of his stool in the early hours of the morning. Or the triumphant victory when the two had them demolished the competition in their daily activities. It had even come to a point that Charlie had to pry the two apart.

That had only put them back as rivals. But there was something intrinsically changed. It was a passionate drive to push the other to further new heights and a bond that could both be bubbly and sweet like champagne but burn like whiskey.

It was fun.

More fun than either had known in years.

The moth still forced Vox to leave at the end of some nights, but Vox never returned bloody and broken again. It became what Alastor found himself listening for every night, waiting to hear the even gait so he could relax again instead of anticipating the worst. But the days were counting down until he wouldn’t be hearing that man returning to the hotel anymore.

Then the last day came.

Instead of participating that day, Alastor decided to lock himself in the Radio Tower. Surrounding himself instead with all the things he ought to focus on. The suffering of a single man was inconsequential to his machinations and pride. But try as he might, he kept turning back to Vox again, and the overlaid images of him and his mother.

It was one of those rare occasions that night when he decided to lay in bed, hands folded over his chest staring at the ceiling. The grandfather clock in the hallway had given its chime thrice, but not a wink had come to him. Nothing but dancing shadows and a zen state as he tried to not think about what would happen tomorrow.

There was no position where he couldn’t feel the springs and lumps of the mattress below him. The pilling on the sheets should be brand new. Or how the blasted hissing in the pipes was far too loud. Everything felt too loud-- Especially that knock at the door!

Alastor’s ears flicked up, twitching to listen for anything to prove that wasn’t a mirage. Suddenly the thunderous rushing of blood in his head wasn’t drowning out his thoughts. The night felt as still as it should be.

“Al, I know you're awake. Will you open the door?” It was muffled, but that voice was unmistakably Vox’s. The Radio Demon shot up and immediately fixed his hair and his clothes. He did not dare to let anyone witness anything other than perfection. He couldn’t bear to think of explaining what he’d been doing.

It’s 3 am and all I’m thinking about is you. Preposterous.

The instant the door had opened, white filled Alastor’s vision. Something soft smacked him in the face. Moments later he realized it was a damn pillow.

“Your damn radio signals have been keeping me up all night! What the hell is bothering you?”

More stunning than the pillow was the bombshell that Vox dropped in that instant. The pillow fell unceremoniously to the floor, pinched between their legs.

“You can… hear them?”

“Hear is...” Vox waved his head in a so-so gesture. “One way to put it? I can feel them Alastor. It’d be like trying to explain to a man born blind what color is. The point is-- it’s been non-stop all day and I can’t sleep. What the hell is wrong?”

“Why would you… assume anything is wrong my dear?” An unfiltered voice answered Vox. His mind was still racing to catch up to this revelation while Vox continued as if he hadn’t been holding onto a secret as large as who held his shackle.

“Because it’s...” Vox threw up his hands in frustration. Waving his hands wildly to mimic some erratic line. “Pyuueeww biiing chi-iiiiiing bing bing krsshh! It’s damn annoying that’s what! And usually the more stressed or negative the feelings the more grating they are. I could talk about this in the open where everyone else is but… do you want me to?”

Good point.

Alastor grabbed Vox by the shoulder and dragged him inside. Then he tucked the pillow into the room with his foot and slammed the door. With a tentacle, he picked up the discarded pillow and tossed it to lay on top of his bed where he could thrust it back onto his true owner later.

“So Vox, you mean to say you’ve had this little insight on me for… how long?”

Vox shrugged. “Always?”

Without words, the radio demon retreated into the room and took a seat on the bed. One leg crossed over the other, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. He’d need an awful lot of time to process this. But more time than he had, Vox would be gone in a few hours.

“So… what’s wrong?” Vox repeated the question, joining him on the bed. Alastor wanted to give some offense for him inviting himself. But this may be his last chance to speak to Vox like this. In a few hours, they would be back to rivals.

“Are you going back to the Vee’s tower in the morning?” Alastor asked.

“Uh--” A claw tugged around the collar of Vox’s pajamas. “I’m… not sure to be honest. It’s complicated. Part of me wants to stay, I’ve been enjoying my time here. But it’s… not so simple to just give everything I worked so hard for over these years you know?”

His dear protege had indeed grown fat since he stepped out from his shadow. Not in the direction he would have liked, but… wonderful in his way. Still, Alastor found himself uncomfortable, shifting in his seat knowing that a weakness had been bared to his greatest rival all this time. If he had known, he would have gotten rid of him far sooner! A world where he was known?! That anyone could look beyond the mask he worked too hard to perfect?!

But there his word had kept him from doing anything. His safety was guaranteed as long as he stayed here.

“What is that moth to you anyway? Why do you allow him to treat you that way?”

Vox loosened all the tension in his shoulders. His elbows rested against the tops of each of his knees as he bent forward. “He’s my business partner. Sometimes he’s… incredibly sweet and good to me. Makes me feel like I’m worth something to somebody at least. Then other days… he tells me I don’t care enough. That I don’t do enough to justify my worth to be part of the Vees. That I expect him and Velvette to do everything.” It all came freely, these thoughts Vox kept locked in his head and heart for far too many years. His screen buried itself further into the palms of his hands as he continued.

“I don’t know what to call us. There’s no love, but it doesn’t feel like friendship either. Maybe once there was something genuine, now it feels like we’ve become co-dependent on one another.” There was no such thing as a shoulder to cry on in the cutthroat world of an Overlord. But for a fatal second Vox almost forgot that. He broke away, smacking his knees.

“I’m-- this is stupid. Why am I telling you of all people this?” Vox threw up his hands. “You’re going to laugh right? Well! Go ahead! Laugh! Most powerful Overlord in Pentagram City and he STILL manages to be so fucking pathetic. He’d be nothing without the other Vee’s! Some loser who can’t step out of your fucking shadow no matter how hard he tries.”

Sulkily he turned his screen away, bouncing his knee impatiently. His face was bright blue, with a bitter scowl stretching the length of the screen.

There were echoes of Alastor’s own words there. Maybe the echos of many more. If this confession had come out at the beginning of Vox’s stay at the hotel he would have laughed. Laughed until he shed tears. Happy to see the prideful box that had broken free from his master’s leash face to face his just desserts. But Now?

“The bottom feeders of this world will do anything they can to cut down those above them my dear. They’ll use everything they have at their disposal and if they can find a weak point? Trust they will use it without mercy. Trust in yourself, have faith in what you’ve made and you’ll be indestructible. No overlord rises to the top by mere accident.” These belated words of wisdom from an old mentor were spoken in a tone gentler than usual. Inspired, he turned to face Vox. Meeting his eyes with a stalwart glance.

“I do not approve of your methods, hence our partnership became incompatible. But you are the reflection of the most exquisite and beautiful underbelly of humanity. The natural and artificial, Man and Beast, nature and nurture. Without one, we could never become fully aware of the beauty of one another.”

A sleeve obscured Vox’s face from view. Then came a hiccup and a sharp inhale of air swallowed behind grit teeth. Through his struggle to control his emotions, Vox nodded. The tell-tale signs of his failure came in the shifting picture alternating between multi-colored blacks and static. Clenched fingers dug into Vox’s knees, threatening to puncture the thick skin beneath.

Alastor pried that hand from his knees. He turned over the wrist and slipped his hand over Vox’s to weave their fingers together. Red and blue, co-exist without becoming purple. Their contrast makes the other more striking for it. Hot and cold, steel and flesh, meeting palm against palm.

The flickering light of Vox’s screen dimmed as his head bent in. The artificial blue light danced upon Alastor’s features, finding the digital display up close changed from a fantastic imitation of a cartoonish face to pixels and static on a screen as the true nature of what he was looking at. Only reflections of the soul inside.

Glass met Alastor’s forehead, static and electricity dancing on their one point of contact and between their palms. It intensified Alastor’s signals, humming like a melody that was greater than any music to Vox’s ears.

“I could think of a world without a great number of people. My parents, my brother, Valentino or Velvette. I can even imagine being born in another time or gender. But the only thing I can’t imagine… is a world that doesn’t have you in it.” Vox whispered. He could feel the shifting of those fingers between this, tensing to squeeze his hand beneath.

“You will have to live with being an existence just below my mother, but I feel much the same way. Hell would have become dreadfully dull long ago without you in it.” Picking up that foolishly brave and clever picture box seventy years ago was not one of Alastor’s regrets. Even if he did waver between his decision on whether he should kill him once and for all.

The tip of Alastors nose met the glass, and he could hear the other hitch his breath. Alastor closed his eyes, keeping a firm hold on the hand settled in his. Listening only to every beat of his heart, surrendering to the feel of the static dancing in his hair and across his body leaving goose-flesh behind. A touch, without the rotten feel of another flesh dragging across him. Something soft and slightly moist pressed against his cheekbone, for only a second then the faint warmth of the screen faded.

“If… you were in my situation Alastor, what would you do? I know that-- it would never happen. But, hypothetically?”

Those crimson eyes fluttered open, finding that Vox had restored them to the distance they ought to exist in. The bridge that burned may have the foundation built, but it would take more than a few short months to rebuild what once was there.

“If it were me? Why! I certainly wouldn’t throw away everything I’ve built! That’s ridiculous! But I would never tolerate that filthy moth laying his hands on me like that either. Hell is far too full of the talented, and many willing to offer their soul to escape obscurity.”

There was a secret smile shown then, something meant once only for the Vox of old. Of a time when it felt like the company they held in each other would continue forever. It was only for a fraction of a moment, enough to make Vox question if it were a dream. But for the first time, he felt as if a road had been opened ahead of him after it had been shrouded for so long.

“I had the most… horrible little thought. One that would make me quite unworthy of staying at this Hotel. I find that I’m rather… curious as to what kind of new techniques have been developed on Earth we may be missing out on.” Vox laughed, “But… maybe we can get a drink again one night?”

Alastor shrugged. “I suppose, so long as I can choose the venue. Your… obnoxious little clubs are far too noisy for my tastes.”

“Alright, but you’re paying for the drinks!” Vox's smile returned with a triumph, rows of sharkish cyan teeth on display with such a pure joy that now felt like it was taking Vox back in time. And it hit him so hard nostalgia forced him to rise.

Alastor abruptly turned a course toward his bookshelf. An old book on plants, boring and innocuous. Almost out of place among the more macabre of the collection Alastor held, but the treasure was buried within one of those pages. The torn half of a black and white photo slipped out, caught between two of Alastor’s fingers. He pushed the tome back into place and held out the slip.

“That reminds me! We never DID get to exchange those gifts, did we? One treasured item from one to the other. I’ve been holding onto this for far too long, maybe it’s time I returned it to you.”

Vox reached out to take the slip, turning it over in his hand. It was an old black and white photo, with Vox’s old crt face staring back at him. A man captured in a time of happiness. “I… thought this was thrown away or burned.”

“You know how I am about old things. No matter how ugly the future looks, it doesn’t diminish the beauty of the days that passed.” Alastor fondly answered as he summoned his cane. It became his support as he leaned back.

Those cyan pupils glanced up from the old photograph, meeting Alastor’s. The grin faded into a gentle smile tugged to one end. “Thank you. My gift is still in my room but I’ll bring I’ll be sure to bring it to you before I leave tomorrow.”

“Am I to be left in suspense until then?”

“Afraid so! But...your signal seems to be doing a lot better so I should get what little sleep I can before the morning. But-- this isn’t goodbye yeah?” Vox pushed himself off the bed, with only a bit of hope resonating in those ruby pools.

“So long as an angel doesn’t get you, there are no goodbyes in hell my dear. You are always welcome back at the hotel for a visit. The group activities will be far less fun without you around to muck them up.”

“Pfft- don’t try to put all the blame on me. You set the lobby on fire.” Vox countered.

“And that little gadget you brought for show and tell blew up, let’s not forget that!”

“That was a feature! A self-destruct in case somebody was about to find out your search history.”

“And what exactly is on your search history my dear that we need to worry about it?” Alastor leaned forward, grinning smugly.

“Nothing! Mostly… Gen Z slang and social media sites. I have to keep my eye on the trends for work you know. And be able to understand what they’re saying half the time.” Life was tough when you were an old man trying to keep up with the changes in modern-day language!

Alastor laughed. “Heavens do I know it dear! Sometimes Angel Dust says the most baffling vocabulary known to man and I can’t help but wonder if he had a stroke or something. But-- rest up. I won’t have you blaming me for your lack of sleep from this point on. But before you go--” Alastor snapped his heels together, and like an old habit fussed with Vox’s clothes like a mother hen putting them to straights. “How far away can you sense my signals?”

The familiar habit made laughter spill from Vox’s lips. “It depends. If there’s metal between us, how high up you are, the weather. But on a good day? No further than a hundred yards or so. They’re harder to make out from a distance. Fifty yards is about when I can tell more accurately what you’re feeling.”

“Good to know… Good night Vox.”

“Good night Al.” Vox lingered by the door, sparing one last glance at his old friend. A smile was shared between them as closed the door behind him.

Click.

“How bizarre that you noticed I was feeling better before I did,” Alastor spoke to nobody in particular, fondness seeping his every word. Settled back on the bed, Alastor found himself staring at his hand where the cold metal hand had sapped away the heat. The minor chill still remained, and the faint dance of static on his skin tingled.

“I’ve missed you, old friend.”

Vox was a nasty little liar. Checking out without ever saying goodbye. Alastor had only himself to blame of course. Doing something he normally never did, sleep in! Peace and warm feelings truly were as dangerous as he remembered. They only invited weakness! His prey slipped through his claws before the hunt ever began.

Alastor didn’t blame him. The two had made a wager and Vox did what he could to guarantee a win. It was underhanded but as his former mentor? He even felt a little proud. Even if a little disappointed. Alastor was about ready to resign and return to his room when Husk called him over.

“Hey Boss, Vox left something with me that he wanted me to give you when you woke up. Said this was yours.”

There were two items: An envelope and a beeper left on top. Husk immediately lost interest the instant it was delivered to its recipient, turning to return to his work for the morning. A trait that had unfortunately made Husk one of his favored servants. And what kept him from becoming like some of the more unfortunate souls under his command? It took everything in Alastor to continue to act indifferently even when curiosity was burning inside of him when he picked up the items.

The denizens of the Hotel were all far too eager to barge their nose into his business and peel back the shroud that was his mystery. Vox may have a backstage pass, and be allowed to live. But he would be the only exception.

The first item was a beeper. A proud and taunting way of Vox claiming his victory over their bet. Alastor snorted and tucked it into his pocket. It’d been a dog's age but he had confidence he could remember the old codes.

The mystery of the envelope, however? That was enticing. A letter opener was conjured from the ether, tearing the adhesive so that he could pry out the prize inside:

It was a photo.

An old black and white photo of the two of them standing side by side. A jagged line ran through the middle and adhered back together with transparent tape.

[lookingfts]

"Anthony thinks it’s so hot, of course, and every time she comes home he’s tugging her onto his lap and wants to hear all about her night of debauchery."

Sexy drabble.....? 👉🏻👈🏻

Sexy drabble!

Oh, his wife was lovely like this.

Flushed cheeks and wide eyes, full of wine and fire, a broad smile on her gorgeous face. It was late, but he had been using her absence to catch up on his affairs. Something in his chest settled when he heard her footsteps outside the room, an instinctive smile coming to his face as she cracked the door open and peeked into the room.

“Hello, my love,” he said on an exhale. Kate slipped in and shut the door behind her, grinning as she dropped herself into his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I have missed you.”

“I missed you too,” his wife murmured, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips. This close, he could see the slight glaze of her eyes, the healthy glow in her cheeks.

It warmed his heart. Among the many things she had been denied for too much of her life was fun. For years, she had worked and fretted and worn herself down to the bone without the releases, the revelry, that he himself had enjoyed.

Shortly after their marriage, Kate learned of the existence of a certain club called the Den of Iniquity – a haven for married women to drink and gamble and indulge. He did not worry; under the watchful eyes of Lady Danbury, he was certain that no harm would come to Kate. That, and she was quite capable of taking care of herself, as Anthony learned time and time again when she bested him at something.

Her fingers toyed with the fine hairs at the base of his neck, a gesture so tender and affectionate that Anthony felt his heart swell within his chest. It snuck up on him at odd times – how dearly he loved his Kathani, how fervently she loved him in return.

She had confided in him one night – after no small amount of drink – that she felt infinitely fortunate. So many of the women would return to an empty bedchamber, a marriage in name only, while she went home to him. Home to passion, devotion, affection. “You are in good spirits. What did you get up to tonight?”

Kate smiled languidly. “Nothing that will tarnish our family’s pristine reputation,” she teased, tapping his nose with her finger. As if she could possibly mar the Bridgerton name in any way he and his brothers had not already managed. “Lady Danbury has been confiding in me her little secrets. I feel as though she is grooming me to run the Den when she no longer wishes to.”

It was an obvious choice. Lady Danbury had great respect for Kate, as did the whole Ton, now. However popular his family had been prior to Kate becoming the new Lady Bridgerton, that was increased tenfold. Pride surged in Anthony as he watched the other young ladies – and quite a few of the men – hang onto her every word.

“I have always liked a woman in charge,” Anthony hummed, testing her mood with a soft stroke of his finger across the top of her breast. Kate was often quite…rowdy after her nights at the Den. If he would not be summarily beaten with a cane, he would thank Lady Danbury for facilitating some of their most adventurous nights of lovemaking.

Sure enough, Kate tipped her head back and moaned softly, leaning into the touch. Opening to him like a flower that bloomed most spectacularly at night. “Anthony.”

His lips brushed against the elegant curve of her neck, his hand disappearing beneath the bodice of her dress to cover her breast. “My beautiful, wanton wife,” Anthony said silkily, squeezing the soft flesh and thumbing at her peaked nipple. “Have you had your fill of debauchery for the evening?”

With significant effort, Kate shook her head, a soft smile on her face. “There is always room for a little more.”

And when they collapsed against his desk some time later after a rather vigorous – and loud – rut from behind, Anthony mused to himself that the Den of Iniquity really was a marvelous invention.

[web-novel-polls]

WN Women Bonus Polls #3: Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint

[Propaganda below] - Major Spoilers Warning!

Han Sooyoung / Han Suyeong from ORV / Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint

Submission 1: I can't even begin to explain the real reason so I'll just. She's everything. Consumes my every waking thought. Someone else please take the lead and add propaganda for me

Submission 2: 

Han Suyeong is a writer. She is cunning, self-serving and confident. Her avatar skill allows her to divide herself into as many copies as she pleases, and each copy can look like anyone. Her only weakness is that if she loses the copies, she loses memories. She initially starts as an antagonist who is not afraid to murder some people on her way to the top. She gradually bonds with the main character due to their shared knowledge and shared love of stories. *MAJOR spoilers for manhwa readers* She gradually becomes one of the three main characters. She is one of the two people from the main cast to become a constellation (god-like beings living off stories). She spearheads the attempts to rescue the one person who matters most to her, even when it is impossible. Even when everyone else has given up years ago. She dooms whole universes and all their people for her one person. She sacrifices everything.

Wiki Link

Jang Hayoung from Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint / ORV

[No Propaganda prepared]

Wiki Link 

Additional Propaganda: 

Propaganda for Jang Hayoung: Transwoman, universe-hopper, canonically the prettiest character. Personifies one of the themes of the book. You can't know anyone just by looking from the outside; or more spesifically - you can't ever know anyone fully. The inside of their heads will always be a mystery for you. You can't ever know if they receive the words you say and the actions you do as you intended them. You can't ever know how the things you do affect another person. You can't ever know them.   But it's worthwhile to try anyway. 

Jung Heewon from Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint / ORV

“Just because I am a murderer doesn’t mean I want to keep killing. I don’t want to be a monster.” - Jung Heewon, Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint, Chapter 31 

Jung Heewon rights forever and ever. She’s so funny and cool and witty and funny and good and kind. I’m not far enough or eloquent enough to explain why she’s the best, so here’s another quote: 

“They lived their whole lives inside the cages of their worldview, only to be used by the invaders from the outside. Demanding such people to be brave was the very act of violence itself. Jung Heewon wanted to tell them; tell them that they didn’t have to fight, that she’d do something to resolve this by herself, somehow.” - Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint, Chapter 395 (Tumblr)

Wiki Link 

Lee Jihye from Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint / ORV

Submission: 

Lee Jihye is boisterous, a little childish and even abrasive. She brags, jokes around, gets into teenage hijinks. But under the surface there is a great deal of survivor's guilt, self-loathing and insecurity. She is a traumatized teenager who killed her best friend to live, and has to live with that for the rest of her life. She is an incredibly talented swordsman and a general capable of turning a battle around all on her own. And a girl just trying to learn how to survive.

Wiki Link

Lee Sookyung from Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint / ORV

[No propaganda prepared]

Wiki Link 

Uriel from Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint / ORV

[No propaganda prepared]

Wiki Link 

Additional Propaganda 1: Cheerful and kind personality, amazing powers for smiting evil, huge rpf shipper. Think fujoshi but for people you actually know in real life 😂

Additional Propaganda 2: Member of the Absolute Good constellations, ships the main character with the protagonist. About to bankrupt her constellation paying for new content for her ship 😉

Yu Sangah / Yoo Sangah from Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint

Submission: 

Yu Sangah is a intelligent and hardworking woman with a vast array of skills, which are sadly not optimized for surviving the apocalypse. But there is nothing she can't learn if she puts her mind into it, and soon enough she is a powerful force to be reckoned with.  She has the best interpersonal skills of the main cast and a vast array of knowledge. Her fighting style is graceful, athletic and utterly brutal. She wields dual daggers and threads.  All the while she remains the moral heart of the group, a steadfast support to her friends, and a capable leader in her own right. 

[lgchyun]

CASTING CALL 016: nknd audition COUNT: 984 words

entering the room for the private interview, hyun bowed at seo youngjae politely. he was nervous. this was an open audition for a new boy group and hyun wanted to join this group--any group that would take him. debut was the ultimate goal for any trainee and as he entered his third year of trianing, he wanted to reach that goal more than ever. "hello sir, i'm third year trainee, yoo hyun."

seo youngjae asked first, "so yoo hyun, why are you interested in being in NEWKIDS NEWDREAMS?"

"becoming an idol has been my goal since i auditioned for legacy. becoming a part of this new group will help achieve that goal." he stated. debuting as an idol was one of his biggest dreams since he was young and a central focus while at legacy. "i also think cementing myself as part of the original lineup of a group will show my commitment to wanting that group to succeed" during his time at legacy he had seen many of their groups go through lineup changes, but he hoped that he could prove as a stable force in a new group. "i also believe my skills and talents can add positively to this group if i am added to it. i will work hard to ensure that i am always making positive contributions to any lineup i am a part of." [88 words of dialogue]

he then asked, "considering the current confirmed members, what can you add to the formation ON AND OFF stage if you are picked?"

"on stage: i have and continuing to work hard to become a well rounded performer. i want to be someone that can form into any role thrust onto me. recently, i have been spending time and energy working on my rap abilities, in order to grow more as an on stage performer." he responds, knowing that he has the capabilities to become a better and more useful performer to any lineup he could be added to.

"and off-stage?" seo youngjae repeated.

he took a moment to consider the question. wasn't the on stage performance the most important part? "off stage...i think, well, i've also trained in modeling so i think that could service my future group well. it's something that i am very interested in pursuing and could help boost a group's notoriety and fame." he thought that might too not be enough. "in terms of the group dynamic, i'm on the more...shy and quiet side, but i think i could add a calming and mature energy to the group, to help balance out any stronger personalities." he stated. [123 words of dialogue]

taking note of his response, seo youngjae continued, "which skill (singing, dancing, acting, modeling, instrument...) do you want to be known for and why?"

"since i was a kid, i've wanted to dance. it is what drew me to wanting to be an idol and a passion i've pursued wholeheartedly while being a trainee." he began, wanting to show that his focus and passions lied in dancing. "i've continue my growth in the dance field at every opportunity, including expanding my skills into learning how to choreograph routines. i'm most confident in street style dances, but i have done my best to learn all manners of styles that would be useful in an idol group." he realized he hadn't really answered the question in his rant about loving dance. "so, dancing, would be my answer. i want to be known as a talented and versatile dancer." he concluded. [95 words of dialogue]

once hyun was finished, seo youngjae continued with his next question, "what kind of concept are you good at and what kind are you bad at?"

"i've always preferred darker, more intense concepts from idols and artists i'm a fan of." but that didn't seem to be the concept of this new group and he wanted to get into this new group if he could, "but really any concept that allows me to put full force into my performances, i enjoy. even if it's not a concept i personally enjoy in my free time, i can still enjoy performing something new. i really enjoy any concept that is fun and challenging to dance to is always what draws me to it." he quickly added, wanting to seem like he would be a good fit for this group. "i don't back away from a challenge." he finished, hoping that maybe the coach would want to hear that. [78 words of dialogue]

"finally, what kind of group would you ideally want to be part of and why?" hyun looked at the older man confused, so the manage added, "for example: self-composing or self-content making type of group. or a group known for high performance or live vocals, etc."

hyun nodded, understanding what seo youngjae was asking but unsure of how to respond. when he thought of a future group he would want to be apart of, his mind didn't immediately turn towards the content or performances. he generally thought of concepts that he enjoyed, music styles he would want to perform, activities he would want to do outside of just performing. but it was an important part of a group's identity. "i really enjoy performing, so being a part of a group that is known for energetic and intense performances is important to me. even if it's not something the group is 'known' for, i hope that my performances can help us be known for it." he answered. performing was a central part of being an idol. hyun thought a group should have that down that aspect down first before focusing on other aspects. "being able to put on a good show is something i've admired about senior groups." he added, specifically thinking about how groups like type zero had been able to wow him as a fan and trainee. [76 words of dialogue]

[meeeeeeese]

Time to introduce my Thief: Captain 'Powderkeg' Rowan, ship captain, pirate hunter and former slave.

Rowan's origin is a bit of a mystery, even to himself, as he was kidnapped in a pirate raid at a young age and forced into slavery aboard one of the pirate fleets menacing the sea of sorrows. Due to the young age at which he was taken and the trauma associated with the event he has little memory of his parents, his home or even his last name. He was branded with a slave tattoo and forced into hard labour, doing whatever the pirates didn't feel like doing themselves. His early years were hard, but they would have been a lot harder had it not been for the ships quartermaster, an aged norn woman who was always kind to him, let him take his time cleaning storerooms and pretending not to notice when he pinched some extra food.

One day when he was ordered to once again clean the gunpowder storage, the quartermaster locked the door behind her and said "from today on, rough seas will spill several barrels of gunpowder, and you be cleaning them, every day. That's what you'll say if anyone asks you why you're spending so much time in here." Before he could respond she threw a dagger at his feet before exclaiming "come on, attack! Show me what you can do!". She began to train him, spending an hour every day showing him how to fight in the ways of the thief. Several years passed, and he spent every moment that no one was looking to practice the moves he'd been taught. With each training session he began to feel more confident, more defiant, less accepting of his lot in life and soon, he began to dream of freedom from the ship that he'd been confined to for so long.

However, as he was first starting to dream up a potential plan of escape he was woken up in the middle of the night by his mentor, dressed differently than usual, instead of her usual loose fabrics she was clad in tight leather, the lower half of her face hidden by a mask. She knelt down and spoke. "Don't say anything, no one can know this talk happened." She sighed, " Rowan, I have to go away now, I wish I could have spent more time teaching you but it seems that time is something I'm in short supply of right now. Listen to me, you're going to escape this life of slavery, you're more than capable of it. When you do, head to Lion's Arch, theres an apple seller there. Show him this" and she placed a small seal next to his head, "and he'll be able to help you." She got up to leave, paused, and briefly turned back to place a dagger next to the seal "may snow leopard guide you" then she turned away, muttered something under her breath, and shadowstepped away.

The seal had a symbol of three linked circles emblazoned apon it. Rowan didn't know it yet, but it was the symbol of the order of whispers. The following morning the ship was abuzz with rumours that the ships quartermaster had absconded with several pieces of Orrian treasure. Luckily, no one paid attention to the slave boy swabbing the decks and, taking her words to heart, he started to develop a plan to escape. He struck while the pirate were in port, with a sit of stolen lockpicks he broke into the gunpowder storage, and lit the fuse before booking it off the ship, the pirates didn't spend much time chasing him before they were distracted by a massive hole being blasted in their ship.

He did as the quatermaster instructed, seeking out the apple seller ,learning about the order of whispers and finding out that he was trained by one of their covert agents. He spent some time working with them, enjoying his new life as a free man and building up wealth to buy his own ship, because while he got one ship, there were entire fleets of pirates looting, pillaging and enslaving others just like him. When he had enough money, he left active duty in the order to buy a ship and hire a small crew, becoming a privateer focused on taking up bounties on notorious pirates.

While happy with his crew and adventurous life, he still wishes he could discover where he comes from, meet his parents or at least learn about them. Most of all, he wants to find his mentor again to thank her, as the order wasn't keen on disclosing the status of agents without an active need to know.

[endofapaige]

A 2025 Mindset

The earth spins once more and another year rolls in. I am yet again sat in my bedroom wondering just what I am doing with my life. Don’t worry, this isn’t going to be a depressing post, just reflective, I think. 

I’ve evolved a lot in 2024. I’m starting to gain some confidence, something I never thought I’d manage. It helps having people around me singing my praises. You know that saying that’s like ‘say it enough and they’ll believe it’ that’s usually applied to bullying, I think it works for the positive stuff too. It’s my career mindset that has developed the most. Stepping into the editorial team on my university’s paper has been an absolute God send. I’m loving it, I really am. I’ve had so many conversations with different people in the team reflecting on if the job is what we expected of it, and it isn’t really, but it’s been such an incredible insight. I have learnt that I can manage people, that I am not useless, and I am approachable and friendly. I am capable of so much more than I originally thought, and I have met so many incredibly talented people along the way. 

I never thought I’d be in a situation where I’d be so passionate about something, and so good at it that external parties would be coming to me asking to write for them. But I am and they have and I have been able to partake in so many opportunities I would never have dreamed of because of it. 

2025 is going to be a year of new experiences. I’m moving out in July, just for a year while I do my final year of my degree. I did it before while I was at university the first time, but I don’t think that really counts considering I was at home more than I was in the flat. This time I’m moving in with friends and my boyfriend. It’s going to be a challenge for sure, can you imagine living with four boys? But it’ll be a fun experience, it’ll be a lot for my own personal development, though it remains to be seen whether I will end up sentenced with manslaughter or get out of the year unscathed and a semi-functioning adult. 

I want to develop a new mindset this year. Try to get over my social anxiety a bit. Try to chat shit to everyone like I do to my mum and dad, because I am an absolute hoot, yet very few people get to actually experience it unless I’m drunk. I want to take things less personally, manage my FOMO, come to terms with the fact that if my friends are hanging out without me it does not mean they automatically hate me. All that means is they’re doing something they know I won’t like, so really, it’s quite nice that they are subjecting me to it. I want to try and ween my way off my phone, become less reliant on social media and do more of the other things I enjoy. Read more, write more, get back into fiction writing, learn to crochet. 

Looking forward to 2025, if I can manage a fraction of the things I want to do this year, it will be a good year. A boring one maybe, as I’m saving all of my spare money for the flat when what I really want to do is to book a holiday or a thousand and one concerts and shows. I find it hard to be content with mundane life, but I need to learn to embrace it and fantasise normality or else I will be chasing an unidentifiable, unrealistic expectation for the rest of my life and I will be living unsatisfied forever. 

There’s a lot I want to do with my life, but it’s awfully hard to know where to start. I’m only writing this now because I was staring at my wall deciding if I wanted to colour or cross stitch, telling myself that I don’t feel left out that my friends are playing Lethal Company in a discord chat they have banned me from. Acceptance is the key to success, isn’t it? Accepting that all of this is okay, making the most of my friends when I do get to spend time with them rather than lingering on the gut feeling when I’m not. Prioritising the discord gossip sessions with my uni friends when we’re supposed to be completing our assignments, savouring every moment I get with my boyfriend so when he’s gone, I can tell myself it’s not so bad because in 7 months he’ll be just a room away at all times. 

I have to start somewhere. So, I am starting here. Telling the void what I intend to do, so I can hold myself accountable against it. Finally intending to do something about my insecurities rather than expecting everyone else to accommodate them. 

[code-elite]

The Freedom Saga - A Price For Freedom

Issue #1

The Downfall

Starting:

Miss Freedom

Pandora Gold

The Masked Man

Mandy Saint

For several years, the first superheroine, Miss Freedom, has protected the people of earth from criminals of all walks of life. Never suffering a loss or faced a challenge she couldn't overcome. That was until her path came across Pandora Gold. A villainous woman motivated by greed and power. A devious planner who saw Miss Freedom as an obstacle in her way fortune. Her plan was simple in concept but difficult in execution. Taking her time to set the trap and find the perfect bait. Mandy Saint, a reporter for iNews. Someone who was seen as innocent by the public and notable enough to get the attention of Miss Freedom.

This golden plan of Pandora's required some extra hands. The main hands are those of a mysterious character, only known as The Masked Man. No one knows who he is or where he came from, but he always gets the job done. His silence and baby doll like mask would send a chill down anyone's spine. He'll be the face of the trap, adding more attraction to the crime. Making it even more likely for Miss Freedom to save the day. It'll be too irresistible for her to ignore.

Miss Freedom had just stopped a medical heist in Blade City when she heard that iNews reporter Mandy Saint was kidnapped by a masked man. She rushed over to iCity to speak with the police who responded. She learns that Ms. Saint had her press badge on, which has a tracker in it. It looks like she was being held in a large wearhouse that was abandoned some years back. A confident Freedom tells the police, "Let me handle this. Who knows what this kidnapper wants or is capable of. I will take him down and call you in to take him jail." She runs off without giving the police a chance to respond.

Miss Freedom walks into the wearhouse with no fear. Hands on her hips. The room is poorly lite. Mandy Saint was tied to a chair unconscious. The Masked Man pacing behind her until he saw the superheroine approaching. He stood in front of Saint, opening his arms as if he was welcoming her. She just smiled at him and delivered a uppercut, sending him off his feet.

Miss Freedom:

This party blows. I think the lady and I can find something a little less street trash.

Freedom is untying Saint as she feels a pinch on her butt. Slightly annoyed, she turned around expecting the Masked Man but was surprised to see this beautiful dark-haired woman in a black catsuit.

Miss Freedom:

Oh! And w.. who might you be?

Pandora proudly holds an empty syringe.

Miss Freedom:

What..um..what did you d..d..do to me?

Pandora smiles deviously while looking at the heroine up and down.

Pandora Gold:

So you are the famous Miss Freedom? The first ever superheroine! So blonde. So pretty. I bet that rack makes you popular with the boys.

Miss Freedom (cinfident):

Yes, we all know who I am. Maybe you'd like an autograph? Who should I make it out to?

Pandora Gold (giggling while playing with a syringe) :

I forgot that you were cute. My name is Pandora Gold. I think that I'll call myself the first super criminal. What do you think?"

Freedom smiles amusingly.

Pandora Gold:

This little syringe was filled with a chemical that affects your equilibrium or so, I am told. It was gold and pretty just like me. I guess I'm inside you in a way, but that's just a bit of foreshadowing. Because you see my dear beautiful blonde bimbo, I'm going to become famous just like you. I am going to do what no one has her done. Giving the first superheroine her first defeat. It's not even Christmas, I know, but everyone lobes gifts. I am going to humble you.

She snaps her fingers as the lights in the building become brighter. Revealing thugs and cameramen. The masked man is also on his feet.

Pandora Gold:

I'm recording everything. Afterward, I'll sell copies to the black market. Every news station around the globe will be showing clips of how their great protector was beaten, used like a local sex worker, and submitted to the queen baddie. Ooh! I like that name. Yes, you will be disgraced. An example of what will happen to any do gooder that stands in my way. Meanwhile, I'll be notorious! The woman that took Miss Freedom down. No one to stop me from getting what I deserve.

Miss Freedom (unimpressed expression):

You talk too much.

She swings her leg around slapping her foot across Pandora's face. She retaliates by jumping the syringe in Freedom's shoulder. Grunting through the pain, ripping the syringe out, and tossing it aside. Blood oozing from her wound. She tries another kick, but Pandora easily dodges it. She rears back for a punch, but Pandora swiftly kicks her between the legs. Freedom immediately holds herself, stumbling back in a debilitating pain she's never felt before.

Whatever was in that syringe had indeed affected her equilibrium. Her strength and speed seem to have also been affected. On top of that, the low blow seems to be a weakness Miss Freedom was never aware of. Pandora grabs Mandy Saint, dragging her off to the side so they can both witness the downfall. She grabs a bowl of popcorn as she sits down.

Pandora Gold:

Put on a good show, Miss Freedom.

The thugs surround Miss Freedom. She's able to fend off the men at first as they come at her one by one. In her current state, she's unable to knock out these men, so they keep coming. As the circle of goons around Freedom tightens the attacks come stop coming one at a time. Holding her arms and wrapping themselves around her waist. Slowing Freedom's response time even more as the thugs are able to punch after punch. To her face. To her stomach. In the corner of her eye, she sees the Masked Man approaching her. She desperately struggles managing to throw off the goons, holding her in time to throw a punch at The Masked Man. Her blow doesn't land as it is caught by her foe. He twisted her arm behind her back into a hammer lock position. Her cries of pain intensify as the man unleashes a series of punches to her kidneys.

Pandora seems pleased as she places the popcorn bowl in Mandy Mandy's lap.

Pandora Gold:

Hold this, would you doll?

Rises to her feet, pulling a blade from her cleavage. Confidently walking over to Miss Freedom. The Masked Man holds her other arm as Gold nears them. Running her free hand over Freedom's chest. Her eyes fixated them symbol on her chest.

Pandora Gold:

This is the symbol of freedom? One that gives people hope.

Freedom feels a shape pain suddenly in her ribs. Pandora pulls her blade from the wound.

Pandora Gold:

I'm no doctor, but I think all that blood lost is bad for you.

She smirks to herself as Freedom grows in pain. Grabbing freedom costume around the collar and proceeds to cut into it. Around the symbol and remove it, exposing Freedom's bare chest. Freedom cries out "NO" as Pandora is ecstatic.

Pandora Gold:

Oh my God! No bra? Me too!

Pandora quickly puts her blade into her belt and shoves the Miss Freedom symbol to the side of her belt. Unzips her catsuit and pulls the top apart, flashing Freedom her breast.

Pandora Gold:

See!? It's so freeing. Do you call yours little freedoms? They aren't exactly small.

She puts her goodies away and zips up her suit. She smiles at Freedom before kicking her between the legs once more. Freedom wants to fall down but is being held up by The Masked Man. Pandora ribs the blue costume down to Freedom's bellybutton. Placing her hand down the front of Freedom's suit. Reaching down to her groin. Giggles to herself as she slowly rubs Freedom's cunt.

Freedom still crying from her painful wounds and humiliation of her breast being exposed and her symbol tarnish. She feels a unusual sense of pleasure at the touch of Pandora's hand on her privates. Unaware some of her moans of pain sound awfully pleasurable. Pandora noticed and moves close. Letting her fingers slip in and out of her pussy. Whispering softly in Miss Freedom's ear.

Pandora Gold:

You have given the world your blood, sweat, and tears. Tonight, you are going to give me more. You are going to give me your mind, body, and spirit. Your pussy belongs to me. Soon, you are going to submit to me. You will cum for me. You're halfway there now, and we're just getting started.

Pandora locks lips with Freedom. Freedom offered little resistance and kissed back. Freedom couldn't explain it to herself. Pandora walks back to her seat. Watching as The Masked Man lets her fall to the ground. Holding her wounded ribs sobbing quietly.

Pandora Gold (speaking loud and clear):

Miss Freedom. I'm going to offer you a choice. You can leave now. I'll even let you take this reporter with you. I'll still sell the video, but at least you got away, right? Ran away like a coward, but still no shame in a tactical retreat, right? Save yourself and fight another day. If you stay and fight, I can promise you that if you win, I'll destroy all the footage. Smart coward or heroic idiot? I know what you'll choose but I thought I would give you the freedom of choice.

Miss Freedom sniffles and winced in pain as she forces herself to her feet. Pandora snaking at her. She looks around the building. Seeing half a dozen thugs. 4 cameramen. The Masked Man seemingly stared at her. Pandora Gold standing beside a bound Mandy Saint. She gazes at the exit for a long minute or two. If she runs, the public would understand. She needed to save herself so she could take them down later. Some would see her as a coward, but the video would show it was a trap and that she fought as much as possible. That's not what Miss Freedom does, though. She always stands and fights. She always finds a way to win. Even if this is her end, she'll go down fighting. She turns her gaze to Pandora Gold. Placing her hands on her hips. Chest out and proud.

Miss Freedom:

I am Miss Freedom. The world's first superheroine. Guardian of the meek. Champion of the mighty. Princess of virtue. I never give up. I never run away. I will stand and fight until the bitter end. You are a vile villainess Pandora Gold. You will not win."

Pandora Gold (mocking claps):

Bravo. That is so going on a t-shirt. Great boobs by the way.

She leans over the reporter, releasing her binds. Speaking directly to her but keeping a cocky gaze at Miss Freedom.

Pandora Gold:

I have no further use for you. You're free to go. You're welcome to stay and watch the downfall of Miss Freedom.

Pandora Gold (smirking):

I would keep away from the men. They are itching for some action if you catch my drift.

Mandy just sits there looking on, unsure of where to go. Meanwhile, Pandora mimics Miss Freedom's pose and voice.

Pandora Gold:

I'm Pandora Gold. The world's first super criminal. Queen of all that is bad. Conquer of heroines. Taker of virtue. Miss Freedom, you are super lame and that pussy belongs to me. Now bow down to your queen.

Miss Freedom (amused):

I bow down to no one. Now come here so I can kick your ass."

Pandora Gold (disappointing sign):

Gosh. You're no fun. Besides, the fellas want some action with you.

The men surround her. She's weakened from the drug and blood lost, but she's feeling an adrenaline rush. Quickly kicking and punching any goon near her. She was fighting back and winning. Pandora was starting to become concerned when The Masked Man punched Freedom in the back of her head. Suddenly, she was out on her feet, unable to defend herself. The Masked Man and the thugs took turns punching her. Sending her walking into a blow each time. Pandora catches, brushing the hair from her face before punching right between the eyes. Knocking Freedom out. Falling to the floor.

Pandora cackles with evil laughter as she kneels down and slowly removes her boots. Pandora runs her hands across the heroines unconscious body. Straddling one leg as she kisses and squeezes Freedom's breast. Sliding her hand inside the suit again finding Freedom's pussy. Immediately pushing her fingers inside and curving them. Pushing deep. Miss Freedom regains consciousness but is in a state of confusion. Not fully ware of what is happening other than this pleasurable sensation. She holds Pandora close who's grinding her pussy on Freedom's leg. She kisses her chest up to her neck when she starts sucking on it and finger fucks her faster. Freedom's moan of pleasure ego as she's unaware everyone is watching. Within minutes she cums and in the moment kisses Pandora. They continue kissing until Freedom realizes where she is again and pushes her off. Holds her ribs as she tries to stand.

Pandora Gold:

Your body betrays you, princess of vitrue. I do think you might like like me.

Pandora makes a dramatic face and kisses her cheek before strutting to her seat.

Pandora Gold:

It's best you surrender now because The Masked Man isn't as sweet as me. He's probably not as pretty, either.

The Masked Man grabs freedom from behind. Trapping her arms by her side, squeezing her tight. Forcing more blood to pump out her side as air is unable to get in her lungs. Her body goes limp in his arms as she loses couscousness once again. He let's her body lean against his. Releasing his grip and cups, her breast. Pandora shoots him a dirty look as she eats some popcorn. The Masked Man takes notice and lifts Miss Freedom in his arms, carrying her to a table the thugs had prepared. He lays her on her back across the table. Cameramen walk up, getting close-up shots of her body. She starts to stir again, and the men scatter.

Miss Freedom is extremely weakened as she slowly sits up on the table. Holding her ribs, she can feel how soaked her suit is from blood loss. Looking up, she sees Pandora motioning toward her. She's barely able to stand, but she puts on a brave face as she walks over.

Pandora Gold:

You look tired. Maybe you should call it quites or else your boyfriend here is going to fuck you like he hates you. I genuinely do not know what he thinks. However, if you must. I will give you a free shot. Come on, princess. Hurt me.

She's not able to deliver a kick without possibly falling over. So she pulls back her fist and punches Pandora with what strength she has left. Pandora's head snaps sideways but holds her ground. Smiling at what had to be Freedom's last best shot. She returns the favor with a right cross to Freedom's jaw. Sending her spinning. Catching herself on the table. She fights, getting back to her feet. Pandora tries for another cross but is caught. Freedom still has a fight on her left. Pandora kicks her in the bloody ribs, and Freedom grabs her side, crying out. She clasped hers together and hammers them down on the shoulder wound. Pandora laughs with glee as Miss Freedom yells in pain. Struggling to stay on her feet. Pandora positions herself behind Freedom and kicks her in the pussy and she goes down holding herself.

Pandora gestures at the Masked Man who immediately picks Freedom up and holding her by her arms from behind.

Pandora Gold:

It's over Miss Freedom. You're finished. You can barely function. Admit defeat, and things will get better for you.

Pandora is taking the time to feel and squeez Freedom's breast. Freedom looking exhausted glances up at Pandora.

Miss Freedom:

You win.

Pandora Gold:

"I'm sorry, what was that?"

Pandora leans up, kissing the side of her neck. She struggles with her words.

Miss Freedom:

You.. win...

The words cut as they leave her mouth. She knows she is defeated but doesn't want to admit it. Her physical wounds haven't been able to start healing themselves as her body is still under the influence of whatever chemical that was injected into her. To make matters worse, she feels a sensation whenever Pandora is touching her. She questions herself and wonders if it was the chemical making her feel this.

Pandora can sense Miss Freedom has already given in, but it's a matter of making her admit it now.

Pandora Gold:

Poor Miss Freedom. You know you are beaten, but you just can't admit it, can you?

She kisses her lips as if saying goodbye. The heroine is far too weak to either resist or reciprocate. She points to two thugs.

Pandora Gold:

You two with me. The rest of you, please make this poor girl talk.

The 4 thugs take turns punching and groping the helpless heroine who can only cry out. Striking her ribs, stomach, breast, pussy, and her face. They continue til they knock her out. Her body slumps over only held up by The Masked Man who is still holding her arms. He nods to the thugs who start taking their cocks out. One of them starts slapping her until she wakes up. She's shocked and appalled at the sight of these men standing with their cocks out stroking them.

Miss Freedom (weak and fearful):

What are you doing?

The men just laugh as she's tossed to the ground between them. A horrifying look falls on her face as the thugs start kneeling down towards her. Meanwhile, Mandy Saint looks on in shock and awe on the outside. Inside, she was enjoying what she saw. Pandora Gold and 2 thugs walked over to where she was seated. One of the men complaining.

Thug #1:

I thought we all were getting in on the action.

Pandora Gold:

Oh, but you're going to get some action.

Pandora pulls her blade out and quickly turns around, throwing it at the thug who was complaining. The blade impales his throat, and he falls to the floor. Choking as he slowly dies.

Pandora Gold:

Shit! "I was aiming for his shoulder. No matter."

She pulls the blade out of the dying man and uses his shirt to clean her blade. Looks back to see Miss Freedom being spit roasted and forced to jerk off the other two thugs. She smiles and looks at Mandy watching.

Pandora Gold:

Hey. The kidnapped girl is still here. I thought you disappeared. Do me a favor, would you? Take care of this low life, or else you can join Mr. Complaining man down here.

Mandy Saint:

"Oh. Uh. Yes, ma'am. Whatever you want.

Mandy gets on knees waiting for the thug. Once he walks over, she does all the work. Pulling out his cock stroking it until it stiffens. Then proceeds to suck his cock cheerfully moaning. Only stopping to complement his manhood.

Mandy Saint:

My God, you're so big. I love your cock baby.

Pandora takes her seat as Mandy continues blowing the thug. Shakes her head laughing at her. She unzips her catsuit and puts her hand inside, touching herself. Watching Miss Freedom being fucked by multiple men. Pleasuring herself to the sight and sounds. The heroine's cries for help as another thug cums inside her. The reporter's happy slurping and gagging ringing in her ear.

After the thugs had finished with Miss Freedom, she laid on the floor no moving. Hoping for an end. The cameramen are back for close ups. Her suit and pantyhoes ripped with semen oozing from her pussy. Spit and cum hanging from her mouth and dripped along her chest. Freedom's humiliated face staring into the cameras. These have been masturbating while Freedom was being used by the thugs. They have been saving their release until they could record her as they covered her with their tributes. She closes her eyes crying to herself as she feels the hot, gooey substance falls on her chest, abs, legs, and face.

It's not over as she feels a hand wiping away her tears and semen from her face. She opens her eyes to see it's The Masked Man caressing her face. He helps her to her knees and this is when she notices his cock hanging out.

Miss Freedom (pleading):

Oh no. Please. No more. I'll do anything, really.

Her pleds go unnoticed as he grabs her hair. She let's out a high squeal as she's pulled forward. His long cock forced into her mouth. She doesn't have the strength to fight but waves her arms helplessly. She's gagging on his cock struggling for air. He pulls out for her to catch her breath then fucks her face. Thrusting hard put pulling her head into thrust with just as much force. It's not long before the man reaches his climax. Holding Freedom on his cock as it shoots to back of her throat. Filling her mouth with cum around his cock. Once again struggling for air gagging on his cock and semen. Nearly losing consciousness before being released. She collapses on the ground. Still choking on fresh semen. The Masked Man reaches down, grabbing her skirt and pulling it until it comes off. He uses it to clean his dick and puts it in his pocket as a souvenir.

A the thugs roll out an object covered in a black cloth to the table. Pandora Gold is now standing over the superheroine, who looks like she's been through hell. She grabs her by the throat, lifting her to her feet. She shoves the so-called princess of virtue backward, hitting the table with her ribs. Holding her side instinctively. Pandora backhands her sending Freedom face down on the table. She twist the heroine's cape around her neck and pulls back. Hoping to not be knocked out again, Freedom taps on Gold's hands since she's unable to beg for mercy. It's ignores as she chokes her out.

Pandora reaches into her belt, pulling out a small vial of smelling salt. Waves it under Freedom's nose, who wakes up sore and confused. Gold takes a little whiff for fun before tossing it behind her.

Pandora Gold:

Good morning, Miss Freedom. Now, this is your final chance. Admit defeat. Surrender to me. I will give you the footage, and you can do with it whatever you desire. Only we will know about this. Well, you might need to convince the reporter, but I could always kill her. The alternative is not very pretty. If you are determined, then I will simply bound you. Sell you on the black market where you will be used as a sex doll for men all over this world. One day, you will have no more use to them as you become less attractive and no longer look like the real Miss Freedom. Then you will either be tossed on the streets to slowly die. Or they will snuff you out. So what's it going to be? Bow down to your queen or a life as a male toy thing counting the days til you die?

Miss Freedom looks up at Pandora, exhausted.

Miss Freedom:

Yes. You win. I can't take any more punishment. Please. Have mercy. I. I surrender. No more. Please.

Miss Freedom hangs her head in shame. Unsure of what happens next. Pandora, however, is very pleased with herself. Motioning to one of the goons to grab something.

Pandora Gold:

Crawl to me. Hands and knees. Come to Mommy.

Freedom keeps her head down, sobbing to herself. Getting on her hands and knees, making her way towards the villainess. Stopping once she's reached her feet.

Pandora Gold:

Good girl. Now I want you to say it again. Also kiss me. Starting with my boots.

Her hesitation is brief as she starts kissing her boots. Slowly making her way up Gold's body.

Miss Freedom:

I surrender. You win. I can't take any more.

Pandora pushes her head down to her crotch and Freedom gives it kisses. She could feel it was damped. Almost able to taste her juices. The fallen heroine continues kissing, taking notice of Pandora's catsuit, once again unzipped.

Miss Freedom:

Please have mercy on me. I'll do whatever you want.

Pandora pulls her up, kissing her. Both their tongues swirling in each other's mouths

Before this make-out session gets out of hand, Gold grabs Freedom by her neck, pushing her away from the kiss.

Pandora Gold (gently squeezing Freedom's neck):

Turn around and bend over that table.

Miss Freedom (confused):

But..I surrendered. I admitted my defeat. Please, no more."

She cries out in pain as a punch smacks her ribs.

Pandora Gold:

You've admitted nothing yet. Now do as you are told before, before I knock you out for the 100th time."

Gold angrily shoving Freedom towards the table. She stumbles as she lays chest down, across the table. Pandora walks in front of her, standing next to a large covered object.

Pandora Gold:

It's time to meet your biggest fan.

Her grin grows larger as she removes the cloth revealing a mirror. Miss Freedom stares at herself in the mirror. Seeing the results of all demeaning abused, she's endured. She almost doesn't recognize the woman looking back at her.

Pandora Gold:

Ta-da! It's you! No one loves Miss Freedom more than Miss Freedom. Do other superheroines even like you? I never see you with anyone, really.

She smiles deviously as she walks behind Freedom. Grabbing a strap on from one of the thugs, making adjustments to her attire.

Pandora Gold:

You are going to watch yourself as you admit your failure. You'll see yourself giving in to me. Your ultimate humiliation. The fall and disgrace of Miss Freedom.

Tears stream down her face as she watches herself building up the courage to say something.

Miss Freedom (whimpering):

I.. Oh God. I am Miss Freedom. I have been defeated by Pandora Gold. I surrender to you and. And I beg for mercy. You win.

Pandora's hand caresses her pussy as she takes in a sharp breath.

Pandora Gold (soothing voice):

That's it. Please continue.

Miss Freedom:

Yes...um..my pussy belongs to..Pandora Gold.

Freedom can see herself enjoying being touched by Gold. Biting her bottom lip. Pandora seems very pleased before slamming Freedom's face into the table. Blood starts to fall from her nose, which appears to be broken.

Pandora Gold (mockingly angry):

How can you say that when you allowed these strangers to cum inside your pussy. That's my property.

Miss Freedom (woozy and staggering):

Please. I'm sorry. Don't hurt me. I'm so sorry.

She feels something cold being pushed inside her cunt. A high squeal seems to be pushed out as the object goes inside her. Pandora's hands griped on her hips. Slowly entering and exiting her cunt. Building up speed. Freedom watches herself being fucked by this criminal. She can't deny that she's getting pleasure out of it because she sees herself almost smiling. She can hear the lust in her sounds of moans and squeals. She can feel gratification of feeling Pandora inside pounding her to her climax.

Miss Freedom (shouting):

Oh god, yes! I am cumming!"

Pandora doesn't let up and continues ramming inside Freedom to sounds of moans and squeals of various decimals.

Pandora Gold:

I do believe you are actually liking this, aren't you?

Freedom holding on to the table nods in approval as she nears a 2nd climaxe.

Pandora Gold:

That's good. And do you know why?

She nods again acknowledging Pandora.

Pandora Gold:

I need to hear it. You need to see yourself as you admit it."

Pandora refuses to stop fucking Miss Freedom until she admits it. She can feel her ass banging against Pandora's hips.

Miss Freedom (looking at herself):

Yes! My fucking God yes! My pussy belongs to you. My pussy belongs to Pandora Gold. I am her bitch. Her personal whore.. Oh..Fuck..me..I'm cumming again!

Squealing once more as she climaxes, but this time Pandora pulls out. Freedom slides down to the floor, breathing sharp and rapid. She sees Gold hasn't moved far, so she brings herself to her knees and starts sucking on the dildo. Cleaning it of juices and cum belonging to herself. Perhaps some of the men, but she didn't care in that moment. After she finishes, she sits back on the floor.

The remaining thugs and cameramen start packing up and leaving. The Masked Man had disappeared some time ago. As Pandora grabs an SD stick, she looks at Mandy with amazement.

Pandora Gold:

You're still here, huh? Well, we can drop you off at a bar or something.

She walks back over to the humiliated heroine and tosses her the stick.

Pandora Gold:

It's all yours. To destroy or rewatch for memories.

Miss Freedom holds the SD stick in her hands. Looking at what she thought held her shame. As Pandora enters the van to drive off, she grins wildly and looks back at Freedom.

Pandora Gold:

Oh, Miss Freedom. It might be important, but this entire night was streamed lived on multiple platforms. I knew you were famous but wow were you popular. I think you broke the internet. Enjoy your new career as a slut influencer. Ciao bellaa

She falls into the van, laughing to herself as they driving off. It was now quiet. She looked at the SD stick. Then, to side at herself in the mirror. She pulls herself up, continuing to look at herself. Walking over to the mirror. She was disgusted by her reflection. She screams from the bottom of her diaphragm and punches the mirror. It shatters and slices her hand. Miss Freedom hangs head and starts making her walk home. As she gets to the doorway, she collapses. Several minutes later, a dark-haired woman wearing a gold swimsuit like attire along with Greek looking skirt, gauntlets, and footwear. She kneeled beside Miss Freedom. Placing her hands against her bloody ribs. Golden lights appear around her hands and fade as Freedom starts breathing normally. When she removed her hands, the wound had healed. She brushes Freedom's hair back and kisses her head.

Athena:

Your fight is not over child.

[katejyublog]

How Camp Fun Matters

One of the phrases I sometimes use to describe the experience of camp is to say it’s “fun that matters.” The idea is that camp is certainly fun, filled with exciting activities, thrilling adventures, and plenty of silliness, but it’s also educational in the best sense of the word. In addition to all the colorful crafts, tennis and tetherball, horseback riding, ziplining, and playing in the lake, for example, the girls at camp are learning and growing in important ways. Camp is not just entertainment, or a brief diversion, like a trip to an amusement park or watching a movie. It means so much more to the children who experience it. To them, camp is profound; it matters, so much in fact, that they yearn to return each summer.

It’s an interesting question to ask, therefore, how camp matters. If it matters because it’s educational, how is it educational and what are these camp kids learning (while they’re having fun)?

There are so many great answers to this question. Over the years I’ve written about camp life fostering core aspects of who we are as human beings, helping children become more creative, more courageous, more compassionate. I’ve said camp helps kids develop critical “life skills,” becoming better decision makers, communicators, collaborative team members. Watch out because camp kids are going to be confident and capable. They’re going to be excellent friends, more joyful than not, and kind to most everyone they meet. Camp teaches all this and more.

We could say, I believe, that girls love camp because it provides all these opportunities for personal growth. In other words, girls love camp not just because it’s fun, but because they’re also learning! Obviously, they wouldn’t put it like that. If you asked, they’d talk about laughing their heads off with their friends rather than the social and emotional skills they’re exercising in that moment. But I think there’s something to this idea. Yes, camp is fun, but Rock brook girls love camp because the fun here makes a difference in their personal development.

My other theory about why kids love camp, namely that it satisfies critical childhood needs, aligns with this idea. Maybe nowadays children are having difficulty learning these lessons because modern education can’t adequately teach them about the joys of being silly, the role of compromise in a thriving community, or inspire confidence in them to tackle new challenges, to name a few examples common at camp. I wonder if focusing heavily on (academic, athletic, artistic, etc.) achievement limits what most educational systems are really teaching, and if so, our children need more than just school. They have unmet needs, and unfortunately, can feel uneasy as a result. When something can relieve this uneasiness and fulfill these unmet childhood development needs, it’ bound to feel really good. And since camp life does exactly that, since it’s “a place where they feel the most at ease,” kids love it.

This is how the fun of camp matters. It provides a special kind of learning that’s ordinarily hard to find, and that once fulfilled, makes campers feel the “happiest they’ve ever been.”

If this all makes sense, then it tells us how to help girls love their camp experience. Interestingly, you don’t do that by adding more activity options, toys at the lake, or other “amenities” at camp. Of course all of that is an important context for life at camp, for the fun of what we do and where we do it each day. But no, you inspire a love for camp by making whatever we’re doing more meaningful, more thoroughly tied to satisfying those core human development needs. Instead, do what you can to remove their uneasiness. Help girls feel they belong. Prove to them they are stronger than they think. Show them that kindness, caring and generosity form the roots of true friendship. Give them daily chances to collaborate, to create, to be silly and free from judgment. It helps to feed them a freshly baked muffin every morning and the occasional ice cream cone, but you see what I mean.

Everyday we’re having a lot of fun at Rock brook, but it’s more than that because something more meaningful sticks with the girls. It’s fun that helps them grow and makes them feel really good too. They love this tight-knit community and their place among the friends around them. Camp is a fun experience that really does matter. And it’s my regular joy to be a part of it.

[4mjay]

"WHY WILL I PURSUE MY COLLEGE"

"Everything always ending. But everything always beginning too." Patrick Ness said when we reach to an end of our chapter, it opens up our new chapter that is our own possibilities. The good news is I will pursue my college. It's the dream that a student like me wants to achieve. The dream of every students and the goals that wants to win. As a graduating student all my hardworking will be the steppingstone for my dreams. Also, I will pursue this dream not just by me but the support of my mom.

To pursue my college, ofcourse I need to give all my best in academic tasks such as schoolworks, tests, and class participation. However, it's not what I typically do in school everyday. I've experienced the downfall, being drained and an average person. The stress and the expectations that happened in my life is the thing that I've been struggling. I realized that I'm not naturally smart as others, ofcourse I always try but all that trying still never felt enough. I have to exert 5x more effort to achieve a score that is just barely above the passing grade while others can do the same with little to no amount of studying.

It’s so funny because I used to feel depressed for being average until I learned how precious my mom view me. For my hero I choose her, because I don't know what I would do without her. She's the nicest person that motivates me even she's at her lowest too. I have seen all of the sacrifices not just by her also my dad. I realized I should be successful in life so I will pursue my college and finish it as a way to repay their sacrifices. This school year has been a humbling experience for me, but also pushed me to strive harder than what I capable of.

I want to pursue my college not just for the degree, but to learn new things, work on my social skills & emotional intelligence , and the highlight is help me become more CONFIDENT and treasure my success and happiness. To approach this new chapter with determination, that I have the support of my loved ones behind me. I will always remember that each end is just the start of something new and full of opportunities waiting for me to explore. I'm not good at anything but pursuing my college, this is the only way i can prove to everyone that i am not nothing.

[toughgirlchallenges]

Keri Wallace - Founder & Mountain Leader at Girls on Hills. Skyrunner, fellrunner and ultrarunner encouraging more women to hit the trails and venture into the mountains. Shouting about equity and inclusivity in trail running.

Keri Wallace is the founder & guide at Girls on Hills, the UK’s only trail, fell and skyrunning company for women. After her second child, Keri decided to quit the desk-job and find a way to combine her passion for mountain running with flexible working, so that she could fulfil a life goal and be mum to two toddlers at the same time.  

Keri in her own words: 

“I started Girls on Hills with my colleague Nancy Kennedy in 2013, as a way to encourage more women to try trail and fell running. It was a terrifying leap of faith and a dream-come-true rolled into one. It felt like the opposite of a mid-life crisis though; like I’d finally found the confidence to stand up and do something I should have done a long time ago. But I had no idea whether it would take off!  

We only ran a handful of courses the first year but it soon became clear that there was a real appetite out there for the kind of freedom and empowerment that comes with this type of running – across all ability levels.   

I love guiding women around the rocky hills of Glencoe, helping them build the confidence and skills they need to become more independent in the mountains (usually a simple case of revealing how much they are already capable of!) Mountain running is such a multi-faceted sport, with benefits that reach out and touch all other areas of your life.        

As Girls on Hills has grown over the years, we have learned more about the barriers that many women face, across all levels of our sport, from beginner access, right through to elite-level racing. Today we advocate strongly for equity and inclusivity and seek to increase female participation in technical and ultra-distance events, where the gender gap is greatest.” 

  New episodes of the Tough Girl Podcast go live in March every Tuesday and Thursday at 7am UK time - Hit the subscribe button so you don’t miss out. 

The Tough Girl Podcast is being sponsored throughout March by Inov-8. www.inov-8.com

Get involved with the #MarchDailyMile Challenge. Run 1 mile everyday in March. 

  Show notes

Who is Keri

Growing up in Cornwall 

How she ended up living in Scotland 

Playing a lot of traditional sports when she was younger

The women who have inspired her

Working as a science teacher in her 20s

Getting into climbing

Making a transition from being a teacher to working in the outdoor world 

Doing the 3 peaks challenge in 24hrs

Getting into running

The challenges of doing her first mountain marathon 

Training for races and how it’s changed over the years

The Trans Alpine Run 

The mental side of running challenges

Info for new mums who are running

Losing her mojo for running

Getting anxious about racing 

Wanting to push herself on her own terms

Not being able to stick to a fixed program 

Creating Girls on Hills in 2018 with Nancy Kennedy 

Helping to break barriers down and encourage more women into running

Working as a champion for She Races 

Talking about confidence

Reassuring women who run

Sky running and technical mountain running 

Fastest Known Time (FKT) for the Glencoe Round

Women FKT - Women with a goal to flip the FKT statistics. Highlighting women’s FKTs everywhere. IG @womenwhofkt 

Why it’s not about the time with FKTs

Role models in running

How to connect with Keri 

Final words of advice to help you get out of the door and go running

  Social Media

  Website www.girlsonhills.com  

  Instagram @girlsonhillsuk 

  Facebook @GirlsOnHills 

    Check out this episode!