#hmm i wonder if they hired someone. interesting

[kaylopolis]

Alastor's Shadow (18+) - Chapter Ten

Alastor x F!Reader, Alias: Thestral

Synopsis: There’s a new Overlord in town and it isn’t the Radio Demon. Six years after you fell into Hell, you have finally earned your seat at the table as Pentagram City’s newest and baddest and with the Extermination coming six months earlier than planned, it is now time to implement your ultimate endgame. After all, who doesn’t love a bit of power and chaos? Your plan brings you to the doorstep of the Hazbin Hotel as Charlie’s newest Redeemer, but who you find waiting for you will not only turn your entire plan upside down but also challenge your grab for power… 

Tag List: Slow burn, rivals to lovers, eventual smut

Masterlist Link: Masterlist

(Let me know if you want to be added to the Tag List!)

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Author note: Dear Hoteliers, This episode was written after episode 7 of Helluva Boss but before Full Moon. Full Moon events have not yet happened. It's also shorter, as some of it was moved to chapter nine.

<3 Stay smutty

Chapter Ten - Cute

Content Warning: Minors DNI!!!, Smut (let me know if I missed any)

“Oh, shit! Oh, shit! Oh, shit! Oh, shit! Oh, shit!” The imp dove behind the desk. “Look, I’m sorry! We did everything you asked! Okay! What more do you fucking want!?” 

You appeared in the middle of the office’s conference room, scaring the shit out of Blitz. It was deserted, save for the boss, who had been cleaning his prized horse figurine collection. 

“Mr. Radio Demon sir, please don’t kill me,” Blitz begged from behind the table.

You raised an eyebrow at Alastor, who had taken a seat in a chair and placed his microphone on the table.

“I may have hired him to corroborate your backstory.” The demon purred, his chin resting atop folded hands. Amusement sparked in his eyes.

Ah. Well, no wonder Blitz is terrified - he probably found a whole lot of weird shit. Which meant Alastor heard a whole bunch of weird shit. Which meant Alastor knew you were traipsing around Earth for the past 100 years before "falling" into Hell. Great.

You wondered if he knows about your friend who traipsed with you...

“Hey, Blitzy, why didn’t you tell me someone hired you to find information on me?” You did your best to give a sweet smile. The imp didn’t know you as the Shadow. He knew you as Thestral. Which is why you came dressed in your regular clothes. 

It was now Alastor’s turn to look confused.

“Are you fucking kidding me!?” His horns appeared over the table. “It’s the Radio Demon! He woulda killed me on the spot.” 

Hmm. True. 

“Where are Millie and Moxie? You can’t be a third wheel without the other two.” You ran a finger across the desk, feigning interest in the imp's affairs.

“What the fuck is this, a social visit? What do you want, and why did you bring him?” Blitz gestures to Alastor.

“Ignore him. He’s not important.” You think you heard Alastor growl - you did your best to ignore the butterflies it stirred within you. “Your fuck buddy owes me a favor. Where in Hell is he these days? Heard he finally left the bitch, but I didn't know if he got the house or…” 

“Okay,” the imp laughs as if that was the most ridiculous thing he has ever heard. “First of all, he’s not my fuck buddy. Where did you hear that?”

“Octavia,” you smiled. 

Yes, the famous Princess of the Night. You just so happened to run into her in the Pride Ring one night she ran away. The responsible thing would have been to return her to the Prince as soon as possible, but you ran into her as Thestral - the piano player at Mimzy’s. She thought you were the coolest. So you two went out, got drunk, and had a fun night. You returned her to Stolas eventually. He was so grateful and none the wiser. 

Octavia has ended up in your apartment a few more times since then. Hence why, you’ve run into the I.M.P. as they were recruited to help find her. 

Stolas loved you, and Octavia loved you. Blitz has mixed feelings towards you. You made his life harder, but you could keep up with his sense of humor, so that made you okay. He also may have made a pass at you, and you rejected him. Not cool. 

Blitz mumbled profanities under his breath before finally giving you an answer, “The Royal took his daughter topside for margaritas.” 

You shot him a dumb look, “Margaritas?” 

“Yeah, she’s been all excited about the human world ever since the fucking Hollywood incident. Stolas takes her on field trips now that she actually likes him again or some shit. I don’t know! It’s her rebellious teenage millennium.”

Great. 

You turned to Alastor, who was thoroughly happy that Stolas was trapped topside and out of reach. Perhaps he thought you would give up now and return to your cage?

But you didn’t give up easily and Lucifer was coming tomorrow. This had to happen now.

“Open it,” you commanded.

“What?” The imp’s voice cracked. 

Alastor frowned, desperately trying to hide his anger. “My darling, I don’t think…”

“Blitz,” you pulled a fat stack of cash from the Void - the remainder of Crim’s money. “Open it.” 

The imp was practically salivating at the sight. 

“Deal!” He swiped it from your hand before Alastor had a chance to protest. You turned to the Radio Demon and stared him down, your eyes daring him to try and stop you. 

Do it. Start a fight right here. You’d take him on. You were practically begging for a fight with the Overlord now. 

No more running, right Rosie? Time to face this head-on.

You were goating him, and he could tell. 

Blitz chanted the spell from the grimoire, and the portal cracked into being. 

“Ready?” You held an elbow out for Alastor, who sat unmoving in the chair beside you.

“Wait, you don’t have human disguises,” Blitz reminded you. 

“Oh, right,” you took the grimoire from his hands and flipped through a few pages before finding the right spell. 

“How the fuck…” Blitz’s jaw dropped. 

The story of this grimoire and you was for another time and another place.

You slid the book over to Alastor and plopped into the seat next to him - summoning a quill and an ink well. You had a human disguise - you had spent nearly a hundred years over there before ending up in Hell - but he didn’t. 

“I need to draw this on your skin,” you pointed to the symbol in the book. “Is that okay?” You asked cautiously. You knew the demon didn’t like to be touched.

His eye’s flit to Blitz. 

Ah, yes, he wouldn’t like an audience. 

“Get out,” you commanded. 

“Yeah, no problem!” He skitted out of the room. 

Your eye’s find Alastors - a deep crinkle weighing down his eyebrows. He was liking this plan less and less by the minute.  

You cleared your throat, the bubbles of anxiety filling your chest. “It needs to be drawn over the heart.” 

There’s no way Alastor was going to…

He stood, took his jacket off, and draped it over the chair. He loosened his black tie and unbuttoned his red suit vest. His eyes never leaving your face, he slowly undid the top buttons of his black collared shirt.

God, you were so jealous of his fingers. They got to undress him. You didn't.

He pulled the clothing aside to reveal the left side of his chest. 

You tried not to gasp, you really did, but the sight was just too shocking. The Radio Demon was covered in scars. You felt the blood drain from your face, the knot in your chest winding itself tighter and tighter until it was hard to breath. 

“Don’t fret too much, darling, these scars are not of this life,” his gaze was hot on your face, heating your cheeks. 

Your heart sank. Did that mean…? 

“These are not what killed me,” he answered as if reading your mind. 

You swallowed dryly, trying to find the ability to move once more. Dipping the quill in ink, you brought the feather to his chest. He stiffened at the contact of the tip against his skin, looking over his right shoulder, his jaw ticking with every stroke. You did your best not to touch him as much as possible as you drew. 

Alastor couldn't even look at you. God, he looked so uncomfortable.

Rosie’s words echo in your mind. “Alastor is scared too…”

You cleared your throat, "Play something for me?”

Alastor shot a questioning glare from the corner of his eye.

“Humor me,” you gave him a soft smile.

The demon thought a moment before his radio clicked through a few channels, finally landing on Louis Armstrong’s “Heebie Jeebies.”

You snorted, “Very funny.”

“I live to entertain, darling,” Alastor’s smile was half-hearted.

And it pained you.

“Why radio?” You ask, dabbing your pen in the ink well. “I mean, you could have done a lot of things in life, but why that?”

"Annonymity," Alastor answered after thinking a moment. "I enjoyed the power of captivating an audience while remaining invisible outside of the booth."

Your heart skipped a beat. Alastor liked staying in the shadows...

"I've heard the stories. Rosie said you remained nameless for a long time after your broadcasts went out. It's how you earned the name 'the Radio Demon.' There wasn't a face to attribute to the deaths until..." Your voice trailed off.

"Until Vox coaxed me from the shadows," there was a gleam in his eye.

You dropped your pen, "What happened with him exactly?"

"Hmmm," Alastor hummed. "For an attempt at a distraction, darling, you are doing a poor job at it." He teased.

Oh, right.

"Fine, what's your favorite song?" You asked instead.

The demon blinked. Did you say something you shouldn't have?

After a long while, he finally said, "I don't think anyone's ever asked me that before."

Your stomach dropped.

Alastor was many things. Alastor the Overlord, Alastor the Radio Demon, Alastor the radio host... And yet, Alastor the lonely was never a persona you thought he'd fill.

You know Alastor has friends - Rosie and Mimzy, for example - but what did that mean? He and Rosie were close, you didn't know anything about how deep his relationship was with Mimzy other than she knew him when she was alive. Yet, from the way Rosie treats him, she's more a mother than a friend. Mimzy seemed more like a friend you kept at arm's length, knowing her proclivity for attracting trouble - a.k.a, she couldn't be trusted completely.

So, who did Alastor have, really?

Husk? Yeah, no. Stupid question.

So, then...

"Shave 'em Dry' by Lucille Bogan*," you answered for him.

Alastor laughed so hard his face was in his hands. His laughter was infectious, and it brought forth giggles of your own. God, the way Alastor's natural joy warmed your heart.

The demon reached out, his other hand finding your fingers wrapped in the feather pen. His thumb stroked the top of your hand, eliciting goosebumps across your skin. Even through his gloves, his hands had a way of making your bones melt.

Alastor didn’t think he had a favorite song. He had never really entertained the thought, and he enjoyed so much of it all.

The demon ran his thumb across your hand to give himself time to think. He let his eyes bleed into your gaze, watching as you stifled a sharp intake of breath.

The demon had never really thought of his favorite song till the day you moved into the hotel, your red lips taunting him from the beginning. He never considered the flutter of feelings in his chest might be worthy of a song until you were dying in his arms. He never let himself consider the weight words of music held till he caught your beautiful voice singing in his kitchen.

The demon never considered he might have a favorite song till you gave him a reason to want, to desire...

“Unforgettable,” he smiled, “by Nat King Cole.”

He watched as your cheeks turned as red as your lips. “Alastor…”

God, he loved hearing his name fall from those lips.

“That’s a love song.”

Of course he knew that.

“Yes, darling, it is.” Alastor simply smiled, and that was enough to have the hair on the back of your neck standing on end.

He watched you nervously bite your lip and envied those teeth.

A sharp intake of breath, “I didn’t take you for a romantic….” You drew a few more strokes on his chest before finishing. This time, Alastor faced you and watched as you drew. He chuckled silently at the shake in your hand - he thought it adorable, really.

“You’ll find that there are many things about me..." Alastor ran his hand through your hair, cascading over your shoulder. He felt you shutter at the contact. The demon moved your hair aside with his finger, allowing a clear view of the bruises. Alastor smiled, "...that will surprise you."

He enjoyed seeing you flustered and speechless and decided the sight of you biting your red lips was his new favorite view. The sound of your heart skipping a beat in your chest and the little noise you make when he nibbles on your skin was his new favorite sound. The feel of your magic sparking to life as it reacted to his touch was his new favorite feeling. Satan’s mistress... Alastor the Radio Demon was discovering he had many favorites today.

Your gaze fell, your face heating as you tried to focus on the last few strokes of the rune on his chest. Your hand lingered a moment too long before you cleared your throat, “done.” 

The demon stood abruptly and faced away from you as he reassembled his ensemble. 

Jesus Christ, you were watching Alastor dress - so intimate an action, and yet you couldn't look away. Why didn't you at least offer to help with the buttons? Fuck, you prayed for the strength to get through today in one piece...

“Blitz,” you screamed for the imp when Alastor shrugged on his jacket once more. 

You handed the imp the grimoire. “Drinks on me next time?”

“Oh, Hell yes! You fucking owe me!”

You resisted the urge to point out that you just gave him a fuck ton of money. 

“Ready?” You held your elbow out to the demon. 

“Good luck!” Blitz called after you as you stepped through the portal. “You’re going to fucking need it.” He closed the portal behind you. 

You were in a dark alleyway, the sound of commotion far off. The world was warm and sunny - Hell, the sun. You hadn't seen real sunlight in years. Pulling Alastor to a half-broken mirror, you could see that you had transformed.

Your hair hung in waves down your back, no longer the silver of the damned but a beautiful natural blonde that matched your eyes. Your skin was pink and full of life, but much the rest remained the same.

God, had it been six years already since you were here? The image was quite a shock - a reminder of what came before your life flipped upside down and you packed your bags for the Underworld. 

You caught Alastor staring, your cheeks turning red. A blush crept up Alastor’s neck, the same color as his suit jacket. 

“Your turn,” you smiled, suddenly extremely self-conscious of your appearance. Say, " Transformare.”

“Transformare.” A whirlwind wiped around the alley, twirling its way up Alastor’s body. His skin transformed to a creamy tan, his hair darkening to a light brown, but in the morning sun, at just the right angle, it had a red tint to it. His ears and antlers disappeared as his hair shortened. It was long and curly on top but with a shortened buzz cut around the base. His monocle was replaced with a small pair of reading glasses sitting at the edge of his nose. His eyes stayed their usual red, however, and his canines were sharper than average for a mortal - a reminder that he was not fully human.

Alastor’s entire body went rigid. 

The spell you had used wasn’t simply a disguise spell - it was a sort of rejuvenation spell. The Radio Demon was now staring at the reflection of his former living self. 

Ooooooh, the French, the Voodoo, his taste for jambalaya. Alastor was Creole. "This face was made for radio..." It suddenly made sense...

Alastor ran a hand through his hair in complete disbelief. Cute. The thought hit your brain subconsciously, and you dropped your gaze so he wouldn't see.

“I should have warned you,” it came out as a whisper. 

Alastor took a shallow breath. “No. No. I’m glad you didn’t. I don’t think I would have come if you had.” 

Oh… Why did that make your heart sink? 

You both stood a minute longer, Alastor’s eyes glued to the mirror before taking your arm in his. 

“Shall we?” He asked. 

You nodded. 

Weaving between alleyways, you finally rounded the corner and were met with the deafening roar of people and music. 

“What the…” 

You popped out onto the street in a huge crowd, confetti filling the air, beads being tossed, a band marching down the street. It was an absolute madhouse. 

Alastor laughed next to you as people tried to shove their way around you. He protectively wrapped an arm around your middle, bringing you into him. The rumble of his laugh vibrated through his chest and into yours. His scent overcame you, numbing your senses and clouding your mind with thoughts of him holding you close.

He still smelled like himself. Like the forest after rain...

“Mardi Gras!” A genuine smile formed across his face. “He didn’t say margaritas. He meant Mardi Gras!” 

Oh, shit. You were in New Orleans, the French Quarter specifically - Alastor’s birthplace and hometown. 

You had inadvertently brought Alastor home. 

People shuffled by you in wild outfits of greens, purples, and golds. Feathers and beads decorated an ocean of partygoers hidden beneath masks. 

“Oh, this won’t do,” his eyes were on you now, analyzing your outfit. “If I’m to escort you around New Orleans during Mardi Gras, you certainly can’t dress like that.” With a flick of his wrist, your outfit changed. 

Alastor dressed you in a dress with numerous yellow ruffled skirts and thin straps of tied ribbon holding it up. Your hair had curled into a cute bob iconic of the 1930s, and a mask of yellow feathers completed the look. The top edge of your tattoo was visible beneath the dress, but instead of its iconic silver shade, it had faded to black. Humans have all sorts of tattoos in this day and age; no one would be any the wiser... Besides, Alastor couldn't see anything but the very top of it... He wouldn't know what it was just from that...

Alastor’s suit changed into a matching set of gold, a fedora to accompany, complete with a yellow mask of felt. “Absolutely beautiful, darling,” he grabbed your hand and intertwined your fingers with his. His black leather gloves were soft in your hand. “Now, where to?” 

You pushed down the creep of blush running up your neck and tried to think. You were here for a reason, and it wasn't to ogle at the Overlord, no matter how slim his waist looked in gold or how badly you wanted to run your fingers through his curls...

If Octavia was here then hopefully the card was too. You dug deep behind your navel, searching for the familiar tug of the obsidian calling card you had given the Princess all those years ago. 

She didn’t know what it was when you gave it to her, a precaution for her to use in case she ever got into any trouble. It only worked when you were on the same plane, however, so when she ran away to Hollywood, she couldn't use it to contact you. Now that you are both topside, you should be able to find her. 

There. 

“This way,” you screamed over your shoulder, pulling the Radio Demon through the crowd behind you. 

Pushing through the crowd hurt, but you were on a mission, and the parade was far from over. Finally, you made it to a place called the Hotel Royal - a cute two-story corner hotel just off the main road. Dipping inside, the building led to a courtyard filled with live music and dancing. Off to one side was a bar, complete with a fountain at the center of the cobblestones. Two rows of balconies encircled the yard, with more people dancing and drinking throughout. 

“It’s still here!” Alastor curled in next to you, his hand on your hip, allowing others to pass as you surveyed the scene. 

You shot him a questioning look. 

“Come this way,” he pulled you to the bar, complete with a wooden backdrop. He tugged you down under the bar stool, his fingers running over the wooden panel. “Here!” He screamed over the music. Beneath his fingers were two names etched into the wood: Marcel Gerard and Alastor Hartfelt**.

Holy shit. 

“My mother cleaned for the hotel when we were strapped for cash. She’d bring me along to play with the owner’s son.” The demon smiled at the carving. 

There it was, that concoction of butterflies and bubbles that made you queasy. What was happening? Rosie’s words flitted through your mind again as you surveyed the demon, smiling at the wood. 

You felt terrified, but you were… excited about it? Alstor’s hand was still in yours, your fingers intertwined. It was… nice. The demon hated touch, but here you were, hand in hand. 

Was this romance?

All of last night comes rushing back - of Alastor's hand in yours, of the demon's fists bunched in your pajama bottoms, of his mouth on your lips.

You knew the smell of vanilla was going to hit before it even graced your nose.

You didn't really know what romance was, but you wanted to.

Fuck, you wanted this. You wanted him.

And it terrified you. 

Because if Alastor knew who you were and what you carried with you, he'd kill you...

Fuck.

Alastor would kill you.

You dropped his hand and stood. 

“Is everything alright?” The demon's smile dropped, his face crinkling in concern. 

Before you could find an excuse to explain away your weird behavior, you felt the tug. She was here. 

You spun, surveilling the dance floor. There, in the middle of a group of girls was the tallest human girl you had ever seen. Her dark hair cascaded down her back into a pool of purple tips. She wore a Green dress, her mask covered in glittery sequins, which exploded into a bloom of peacock feathers above her head. 

Octavia. 

You pushed your way through the crowd and tapped her shoulder. She spun, clearly a little tipsy, before her eyes lit up in recognition. “What are you doing here!?” She screamed over the music, bringing you into a hug. You winced when she let you go, grabbing your arms and twirling you about. 

“Same as you!” You lied. “To enjoy the festivities! Where’s your father?” 

“Dad?” She stopped spinning you. “Over here, come with me!” 

She dragged you to the side of the dance floor, where an extremely tall gentleman was sitting in a chair. He twirled the straw in his drink, a glum look plastered across his face. That was until he saw you and Octavia standing before him. He lit up at the sight of you and brought you into a bone-crushing hug. 

“Hi, Stolas,” you managed to breathe out. He dropped you, and you stumbled back into a strong pair of arms: Alastor. 

The Radio Demon bowed to the Royal, “Your Highness.”

“Oh, please, that’s unnecessary,” he waved awkwardly. Stolas hated the attention. He always has. 

The music turned to a dirty jazz, a song Alastor perked his ears up at. 

“You mind distracting the Princess for a moment,” you whisper-screamed into his ear.  

You’d hate dragging her into this. 

His smile turned cockeyed - a knowing grin. He grabbed your hand and placed a kiss atop it. “Of course, ma cherie.”

He grabbed the Princess and twirled her about, dragging her onto the dance floor. You’d heard from Rosie about Alastor's dancing skills. He could kill it on the dance floor. 

Turning back to Stolas, your smile faltered. “I’m afraid I’m not here for fun. I need to call in that favor.” 

“Oh,” he collapsed back into his chair, looking disappointed. God, he looked so lonely. 

The waiter came to take your order: a glass of red and two fingers of rye. 

You pulled a piece of paper from the Void and handed it to him. He read it. Then, read it again. He eyed you suspiciously. “And what do you need this for?” 

“Got into trouble a little while back. I need to take some… necessary precautions.” And Stolas was the only person you knew who knew the spell. Well… He was the only person you knew willing to share it with you. Fucking Goetia and their secrets. They had a whole ass society based on them.

He waited for you to elaborate further, but you didn’t. 

“Very well,” he pulled a quill from the void, awaiting your arm expectantly. “I’m assuming you have the ink?”

You summoned the white liquid from the Void - you took it off Cain after he died. 

The waiter returned not long after, shooting you two a weird look as the demon drew a mark on your arm in sparkly white ink. The liquid was mixed with the bones of a saint - it had to be for the spell to work. 

Your mind turned to the dance floor as you sipped the Cabernet. Alastor was twirling the poor girl around and around in a flurry of drunken giggles. At least she was having fun, and so was the Overlord. A genuine smile plastered across his face as the saxophone dived into a solo. Watching him enjoy himself warmed your heart but also pained it. 

Were you going to tell him?

“Such strange company you keep,” Stolas interrupted your thoughts. Of course, he recognized the Radio Demon. 

“Like I said, necessary precautions.” You shot him a fake smile. You decided to pivot the conversation. “How are you, Stolas?” You genuinely wanted to know. 

“It has been hard,” the Prince started. “But my little owlette has been keeping me busy.” He half-heartedly laughs. 

“I heard about Hollywood. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help.”

“It’s quite alright. You have done so much for us already. Besides, I’m glad it happened. We’ve grown closer because of it.” He smiled at his daughter on the dance floor. 

Your heart panged. Pulling a key from the Void, you slowly pushed it across the table. “You’ll find the cabin on the outskirts of Levitowne in Envy. It’s well-hidden and private. Just in case. I’ve heard the stories.”

He eyes the key, then eyes you. He knows Human Sinners can't leave the Pride Ring. He knows there is no way you could ever have gone to Envy, let alone secured a home. There are questions swimming in his eyes, you know he’s thinking if he can trust you. You hope your actions in the past prove true. 

Besides, you needed powerful allies in your back pocket for what you were planning...

“Thank you.” 

Oh, thank the Lord. 

“You always have an ally in Pride, of course. If you ever need it, I’ll drop everything and run.”

A smile found his face again. “You always do.” He returns your forearm to you. You watch the ink set into your skin, its white sparkle fading into black. You hoped that was a good sign. You slip the ink well back into the Void. 

“I hope it works,” the Prince eyes the tattoo now visible on your forearm. “For your sake.”

For everyone's sake.  

“Dad!” The Princess practically falls onto your table. She scrambles for the Prince’s arm. “Come! I must show you this dance Al taught me!” 

Al?

The demon appears next to you, his forehead shining with sweat. He fixes his mask on his face and runs a hand through his wild hair. He laughs and says something to the Princess in French. “Merci pour cette belle danse, chérie.”

She giggles and responds in the language. “Arrête de traîner et fais-le déjà!” 

Since when does she know French!?

“Comment sais-tu que c'est ce qu'elle veut?” Alastor asks. 

Wait a minute; you’re an Angel, you know every language. You flipped the switch in your mind.

“Je vois la façon dont vous vous regardez. Tu as déjà son cœur... mais elle ne le sait pas encore! She just doesn't know it yet!” Octavia laughs hysterically as she drags her father into the crowd. She winks at you as she disappears behind a wall of bodies. 

The Radio Demon shirks off his coat and hangs it over the back of your chair. 

“Do I want to know what that was all about?” You raise an eyebrow questioningly, handing him the drink you ordered for him. 

He downs it in one gulp, then collapses into the chair across from you. "Just a bit of teasing," he laughs, motioning to the two of them on the dance floor. Kicking his legs out in front of him and leaning back in the chair. "The Princess is a quick study."

Hmm...

You sipped your wine. From your seat, you could see the Princess attempting to spin Stolas in the same way you had watched Alastor spin her. The height difference made it difficult, but the Prince was beaming regardless. 

“I didn't realize you were fluent in French?” You asked. 

“Darling, I could speak French before I could walk.” He smiles, his Southern accent slipping through. You were surprised but should have guessed. He was a New Orleans native turned Radio Host Star, of course he adopted the Transatlantic accent. Yet, his words curled around you and whisked your breath away. 

The music changes abruptly, slowing in tempo. You watch as dancers paired off, swaying with the music. Stolas and Octavia have disappeared completely. You’re not worried - the Princess can handle anything thrown at her in this realm. It was Stolas who needed a babysitter. 

You turn to take another sip of your drink but find Alastor leaning on the table. His eyes half-lidded, his smile tipped up in a cockeyed grin, he holds a gloved hand out expectantly. 

“May I have this dance?” He purrs, sending a shiver down your spine. 

Your heart skips a beat at the desire glowing in his eyes. He was captivating, all-consuming. He looked at you like the rest of the world didn’t exist. Like it was just you and him in this club right now. 

“Okay,” you slipped your hand in his. He led you from the table to the fountain at the center of the courtyard. Bringing your hand to his shoulder, he found your waist and pulled you a beat closer, careful of your wounds. You weren’t touching, other than your grips, but the proximity would have been considered scandalous in his day. 

He led you around the dancefloor in a slow waltz, matching the speed of the music. You were a terrible dancer; at every ball you attended in Heaven, you found some way to weasel out of it early. You never danced unless required, finding comfort on the sidelines, preferring to hide in the crowd than be out on display. 

You originally became the Shadow for that very reason - you hated eyes on you. You hated the spotlight. You preferred to work behind the scenes, behind a mask. It was more comfortable there. 

Your eyes slipped down to your feet as Alastor led. You did your best to match his, terrified of stepping on his toes. He had a reputation as a fabulous dancer, after all. 

“Eyes on me, darling,” he said, placing a finger under your chin and guiding your face to meet his. 

The cold steel of red softened as you held his gaze. The room fell away, the music lulling you into a world of your own. Alastor pulled you a beat closer, your chest heaving against his. Your heart rammed against your ribs, and you prayed the demon couldn’t hear it; you prayed he couldn’t smell the adrenaline running through your veins or the vanilla wafting off you in droves. 

You were terrified; you wanted to jump out of your skin and run, but his gaze kept you cemented to his side, like a bird trapped in a cage. Yet the cage didn’t feel like a prison. It didn’t even feel like a cage at all. It was freeing. Like you could take off into flight knowing the sanctity of protection forever remained.

No more running. 

“Alastor, last night..." You swallowed dryly, "was what happened... only about Vox?”

Alastor's eyes lit up in amusement as he pondered. “Hmmm, no.” Your heart skipped a beat. “Although I do admit jealousy is not an emotion I am accustomed to.”

He was jealous. You were right. So, does that mean...?

You smiled nervously. Thank God Alastor was wearing gloves right now because your palms were sweating. "So you didn’t know about the date when it was happening then?”

The demon ran his hands through your hair, giving him a clear view of your bruised neck. “I assure you, ma cherie, had I known about it at the time, Vox would not currently be breathing.” The demon leaned in, his breath hot on your face. “I do not like it when someone tries to take what is mine.”

Butterflies erupted in your chest, stealing the air from your lungs. “Mine?” You breathed, your mind fully aware of the closeness of his lips, of the demon leaning in more and more as you swayed.

“Mine.” Alastor growled as his mouth found yours.

It was far softer this time. Last night, Alastor was hungry; now he kissed you like a delicacy he wanted to savor - like he had nowhere to be and all the time in the world to be nowhere.

The demon cupped your cheek, tilting your head to deepen the kiss. He held you like you might flee from his grip, like you might fade away beneath his fingers if he didn’t hold on tight enough.

You tipped up on to your toes, leaning your body into him, letting your hands fist the lapels of his suit jacket. The taste of rye flooded your mouth as Alastor's tongue found its way between your teeth. You moaned into him as little bolts of Alastor's static zipped across your skin.

Your senses were on fire as the demon threaded his fingers through your hair. God, you set a mental reminder to wear your hair down more often, if only to feel Alastor's fingers play with it as he kissed you.

You pushed your magic through the connection and actually felt Alastor's adrenaline surge through his veins. The demon spun the two of you around, walking you backward to the brick wall. His lips never left yours, his soft kisses turning hungrier.

With one hand fisting in your hair, his other trailed down your side, and you actually whined when he skipped your breasts and went straight for your hips.

"Such a greedy little thing," he murmured against your lips as he pressed his waist into you.

You yelped.

Jesus Christ, he was hard.

Fuck you knew Alastor was big, but you didn’t really know. That day in the bayou, when you ground your hips into him, you only stuck around long enough to feel the beginning of his erection and not the process of it.

You threw your hands around his neck, needing the extra leverage to arch your body into him. Your fingers brushed the base of his hair, reminding you of the earlier itch to play with his curls. So you did just that. It was different, not having the antlers or the ears, but his hair was so soft, softer than his short-cropped red hair in Hell. The curls wrapped your fingers as you played with it before grabbing hold. The demon growled into your mouth, his hot tongue swiping over yours, his hands falling from your hair straight to your hips.

The demon used his teeth to pull off a glove, before moving lower and grabbing hold of your skirt...

"Alastor!" You gasped, trying to break apart, but Alasotr held you firmly in his grasp. "We're in public!"

The demon's chuckles rumbled through your chest, his forehead never leaving yours, “Ah, and yet we are completely alone."

You blinked.

What?

You surveyed the room, which was thoroughly on fire. Blues and greens bled into the walls and furniture, slowly overtaking the building. Your and Alastor's magic had ignited at some point during your kiss, billowing out of control and spilling out into the world around you.

The crowd must have run at the sight of the flames, and yet you heard none of it. The two of you were too completely and absolutely entranced with one another to notice.

"Oh," you squeaked.

The demon pressed his lips to your ear, his voice deep and smokey as he said, “You started sparking the second I asked you to dance.”

Shit. You weren’t paying attention. Your mind was elsewhere…

Alastor's hands moved again, bunching your skirts in his fist to allow access to...

"Oh, my God!" You yelped as Alastor cupped your sex.

"I assure you, darling, he had nothing to do with this," the demon growls.

Alastor moved your underwear aside, his finger separating your folds, feeling your wetness...

"Al...Alastor!" You gasped as a finger entered you.

"That's better," he smiled.

"What happened to waiting till I'm healed?" Your nails dug into his shoulders as he started to move. Tiny gasps escaped your lungs as he slipped in and out of you.

It was a foreign feeling for you; you had never had this kind of stimulation before, but GOD did it feel good. When did you get so wet? It was like your body knew what was happening before you did and was already prepared.

"I don't know if you noticed, ma cherie," the demon catches your gaze, his irises flashing back and forth between pupils and radio dials, "but I'm fighting restraint." His lips ghost over yours, his grip on your waist hardening. "And I'm losing terribly."

The demon's lips swallow your moans as a second finger presses in. First knuckle. Second knuckle. In and out. In and out.

Jesus, Alastor was teasing you.

How rude.

You bit down on Alastor's bottom lip as you ground down into his hand, your body begging for more friction. The demon moaned this time, his hips bucking on instinct.

He pressed into you, his knee coming to rest between your thighs to give himself more leverage. You could feel it, though, the throb of his dick in his pants.

You reached out to cup him through his pants - to do exactly what you didn't know. You'd never done anything like this before, but your body, heart, and mind were screaming at you - want, want, want!

Alastor pulled his hips back, just out of reach. You actually whined when your fingers met nothing but air.

"Uh, uh, darling, it's my turn to play." He growled, the vibrations reverberating through your chest.

"But, Al-!" You started to protest, but then Alastor curled his fingers, and the pleasure wave that rolled through you had you gasping for breath. It was so much more.

Somewhere, off in the distance, there was a crash, but your mind was too numb to process it.

"There it is," the demon smiled against your cheek, clearly proud of the control he had over you, over your body. The demon placed a kiss on your cheek as you continued to grind down into his hand. His mouth trailed to your neck...

You collapsed into the demon when his teeth bit down, not enough to draw blood, but enough to nibble, to send your skin alight with his static. The demon sucked and then licked at the sore spot with his forked tongue, soothing the pain. Your hands clenched in his suit jacket for stability as your legs begin to give out, your climax building.

Alastor's hands thrust up into you harder, his other hand pressing down on your lower abdomen. Jesus, why did that make everything feel so much better?

"Cum for me, darling." He commanded his lips on your neck. Nipping. Sucking. Licking.

"Al, I'm... Oh, God!" And you obeyed.

You screamed into his shirt, your walls twitching around him as you rode that wave of ecstasy. It wasn't like before, like in your dream. Then your pussy throbbed on nothing but air, but now, now Alastor filled you with his warmth, and the high was so so much better.

Alastor continued to pump into you until your thighs stopped convulsing around him, your walls desperately milking his fingers for more. Each small thrust of Alastor's hand had your body shaking, had the pleasure prolonging more and more. The demon held you up against the wall, your legs nothing but jelly, your mind numb, and your thoughts muddled.

You swore you heard glass break.

Alastor kissed you on the top of the head, "Good girl."

You moaned when he slipped out of you, his other hand fixing the skirt of your dress. God, how could anyone function after something like that?

"Mmmmmm," Alastor hummed, sucking his fingers dry. "Heavenly." The demon shot you a knowing smile. He wrapped a finger around your chin, tilting your head towards his. "You taste so sweet."

Goddamn...

The look of pride in Alastor's eyes made your heart swell as he whispered, “We should probably leave, ma cherie, before we burn the place to the ground.” 

Somewhere in you, you found your bones again. Forcing clarity into your mind, you not only registered fire, but the building itself had begun to crumble. Walls had collapsed, glass had broken, and the bar was in shambles. The only thing still standing was the brick wall surrounding you, as if the blue and green magic knew to protect the pleasure swimming between the two of you.

Well, shit. Your orgasm had practically leveled a building.

Wait.

"What about you?" You raised an eyebrow, gesturing to his pants. Still weak, you continued to hold on to his shirt, letting the scent of musk swirl around your numb brain.

God, you never wanted to move again.

Alastor tipped his head back and laughed, "Oh, darling, these are not the first pair of good trousers I have ruined.”

Your cheeks heated. Wait, did that mean that he...? Wait. Wait. Wait. What does he mean by "not the first"...?

The sound of sirens brought you back to the situation. You needed to leave, but first...

You shot Alastor a smug look, his hands still wrapped around your chin as you - SNAP! The colored fire disappeared. The demon tipped his head back and laughed again before planting one last kiss on your lips. 

Rolf shadowed you outside to the alley. The building was plagued with blackened walls, the air impregnated with ash. The structure was crumbling in on itself. You had left mere seconds before being crushed.

Holy, shit, you did that.

"I'm sorry," you apologized, your stomach dropping. "That was a childhood memory, and I destroyed it..."

"And made a new memory," Alastor smiled at you, running his thumb across your cheek.

He wasn't mad. If anything, he looked proud.

Alastor laughed at the sight before taking your hand. “Come, I want to show you something.” He led you back out onto the street, your legs jelly as you followed after him.

Out of the chaos, he sat you on a bench a few blocks down before disappearing into a storefront. He came out a few moments later with a donut topped in green, gold, and purple sprinkles. 

“A King Cake,” he called it, breaking it in half for you. “Winner finds the baby.”

You scrunched your nose in confusion, making him laugh.

“An old French tradition,” he took a bite. “To celebrate the coming of the Three Kings. A small object is hidden in the dough; whoever finds the trinket - a small plastic baby Jesus - is brought luck and prosperity for the next year.” 

You giggled, “Why does it feel fitting that a former Angel and a cannibalistic demon are sitting on a bench in the human realm eating a metaphorical baby Jesus?” You took a bite. 

He laughed. “Yes, if Mother could see me now.”

Your heart sank. “What was your mother like?”

His eyes wandered off as if viewing a memory. “She was the kindest soul. Her smile lit up a room, her laugh infectious. She could make the sun shine on a rainy day and cure anything with a bowl of her jambalaya.”

Ah, that’s where he learned that recipe. 

“She would have adored you,” he smiled to himself, tilting his head. 

You forgot about the pastry for a second. Placing your hand in his, you squeezed. “And I’m sure I would have adored her.” You smiled at each other for a moment before returning to the cake. 

“You know, when they sent me down here in search of Eve, I went everywhere; New York, L.A., London, Tokyo, Prague, Moscow, you name it. Yet, I never made my way to New Orleans. We might have met if I had.” You giggled. 

“And did you find her?” 

“Who?”

“Eve.”

You froze, finally realizing your mistake. 

“Ma cherie?” Alastor leaned forward into your vision, worry creasing his face. 

Oh, fuck. 

“Uhm!” You jumped to your feet, wincing from the pain. “We should… We should go.” The words tumbled out of your mouth in a panic. “The Hotel needs work before Lucifer shows up and I’m sure Charlie is panicking right now. You know how she gets when she’s stressed. And I haven’t seen them in two weeks nor have I checked in with Husk and Angel after I collapsed. They’re probably worried sick. And I… And I…” You were hyperventilating now. “And I should help clean up the Hotel. You’re the Manager so you should definitely be there. What if Nifty get’s stuck again and…”

Alastor gripped your face in his hands, forcing you to look into his eyes. 

“You need to calm down, darling, you’re on fire.” He said calmly. 

You looked down at your hands to see flames licking your skin. You jumped back out of Alastor’s grip. “No. No. No.” You repeated to yourself under your breath, trying desperately to smother the flames. 

The demon tried again to reach out for you, but you held up a hand and backed away. “Don’t touch me.” You snapped. 

He froze right on the spot, his look of concern melting into cold steel. “I’m only trying to help.”

“Don’t!” You held a finger up to him. “I don’t need your help. I didn’t ask for it.” 

Both his eyebrows rose in surprise, “Oh? Come now, darling, there’s no need to be mean.” 

You needed to get away from him. You snapped your fingers, and a portal to Hell appeared. Alastor’s look of surprise was not lost on you. 

You were far, far more powerful than he thought. 

He raised an eyebrow in question, staring at the cracks in reality surrounding the portal. “Keeping secrets, are we? What happened to our quid-pro-quo, darling?” 

Your heart cracked. You couldn’t tell him. Not because you didn’t trust him but because you were afraid. He wouldn’t understand. He would never look at you the same again. 

And he'd kill you in a heartbeat.

You didn't know what would be worse, seeing the look of betrayal flash across his face or him actually stabbing you in the heart with a Carmine blade.

You sniffed, tears threatening to spill, "I... I'm sorry. I can't..."

“Apparently,” he mumbled. “Well,” he summoned his microphone, twirled it behind his back, and nodded to you. “Don’t let me keep you waiting.” 

His look of disbelief had been replaced with his mask, the same look reserved for everyone else but you - the Radio Demon persona. Something in his gaze made you realize the cavern you had created between the two of you - the silent battle waged between you by simply denying him the truth.

And to Alastor, the truth was everything. You had promised. Yet, here you are breaking it a mere days later.

It didn't go against your contract, technically. The information didn't benefit you both, but he didn't know that.

You practically ran through the portal, closing it behind you, when you heard Alastor step through. You dashed up the steps and flung yourself into your room and onto your bed in a heap of sobs. 

The door rattled off his hinges, swinging to reveal Rolf waiting for you on the precipice. The shadow looked devastated as he desperately tried to enter the room, but the wards you put up after Angel’s incident still held. No matter how hard he tried, he wasn't getting in. 

And when he finally realized that, a look of hurt spread across his face which had your heart breaking all over again. 

“What the fuck,” Angel appeared in the doorway, sidestepping the shadow. Realizing the situation, he quickly closed the door and collected you in his arms. 

You sobbed as the spider demon held you...

Translate the last line of French, I dare you. (I'm also lowkey so curious to know ya'll's theories)

*Shave 'em Dry bu Lucille Bogan is considered one of the most scandalous and lewd jazz songs of the 1930s: Link

** Yes, this is a Vampire Diaries reference! Same hotel, too.

-> Chapter Eleven

Tag List (let me know if you want to be added!):

@sirens-and-moonflowers @wonderlandangelsposts @saccharine-nectarine @goyablogsstuff @mommymilkers0526

@eris-norwega @missgirlsstuff @alastor-the-radio-demons-blog @sillywormtrixareforkids @its-a-dam-blue-brick

@cloverresin20 @blue-bird251 @speedycoffeedelight @littlebluefishtail @sawi1987 @mopeyghost @beelz3bub

@fraugwinska @minamilinaqueen @demoarah

[adalricus]

Infatuated with you

Cw: yandere themes, kidnapping, manipulation, stalking, gn reader , reader is an amateur model, mafia themes

Pt.2

You had just gotten into the modeling industry, it was hard and full of disappointed trying to get it big. But today was the you would make it big, you walked into your agencies build with such confidence ready for the day. "We're dropping you"..."what?" You answered your manager "You just don't fit the image of our image, and we need to make some cuts on our money and how we use it. Us using our money on you seems extremely futile." Your manager coldly replied. And just like that you sat at home wondering where you went wrong, no you couldn't give up just now you decided to take a chance and search modeling agencies on google, Facebook and Instagram. Hours later you were just about to give up when an agency caught your eye, they were looking for someone who had features just like you. Just your luck, you wouldn't waste your time so you contacted the agency to set up an interview, and send in your resume aswell as portfolio. Finally the day of your interview came, you had driven to the agency and stepped out your car headed for the front just to meet a man who had a very calm yet happy aura. "Hello there I'm Anthony I'll be escorting you to the interview room, and you (f/n) (l/n)?" You nod and with that Anthony grabbed your wrist and you both head to the interview room, "The interviewer will be here in a few moments is there anything you need?" "Uhm.. a cold water please. I'm sorry for asking but I'm just curious who are you exactly?" You replied and asked, "My name is Anthony Davidson, I'm the boss's personal assistant. I usually make sure things go smoothly when he's not around as he is away for business purposes. I'll make sure to get you that water in a moment." With that Anthony left, you sat and admired the rooms interior you noticed turquoise and grey colours with pops of gold. Something deep down in you told you something felt wrong yet you decided to ignore said feeling.Just then the interviewer came in "Sorry for the wait (Mr/Mrs/or what ever you're comfortable with) (f/n) (l/n).

My name is Lucille Roberts wonderful to meet you." She said shaking your hand before sitting down. "So I've read your resume and seen your portfolio and my, might I say I personally think you would be right for this agency." You smiled before thanking her. Lucille continued to ask question as time quickly passed "Well I believe you belong in this company so much infact I'm deciding to hire you on the spot." Lucille announced abruptly and taking a contract with a pen before handing it to you. You read the contract carefully and my, the pay and hours were impeccable almost to good to be true. You were about to sign it before you read "(f/n)(l/n) will work under such conditions provided that they install cameras in their house" How could you accept a job provided you do that! "A-actually on second thought, maybe I won't take the job.." The second you uttered those word Lucille almost snapped "I think it would be in your best interest to work as one of our models especially since we know where you and your family lives. Have nude photos of you on top of that we threatened every other job that would consider hiring you." "What! I'm gonna tell the police how did you get that information!" You demanded to know "The police won't do anything we have all the police stations in this area under our thumbs.. and who want to help someone who got involved with the syndicate?" ... "The syndicate as in the... mafia?" You began to trembled "Mmm-hmm sweetie! You catch on fast, we're willing to let you live a free life mostly, only under our set conditions. So my love don't be a bitch and sign the contract." Lucille demanded before pointing a gun to your head, you obeyed not wanting to get shot and signed. "Good (boy/girl/or whatever you're comfortable with). Now bye bye you start Monday, and if you don't start then say bye to your family." Lucille stated, you could barely stand up and you had to drag your feet out the doors. You got into your care and went home. When you finally sat in your room, you saw a message telling the installation guy would be there tomorrow afternoon at 13:00. You couldn't believe this was gonna be your life now. All you can do is endure it.

adalricus 2023 ©️ you may not steal, translate or post this anywhere but this platform.

[austonwithan-o]

Summer Job- Trevor Zegras x Reader

After a certain boy walks into your hair salon. How could you say no to him asking you on a date? I mean customer satisfaction right?

——————————————————————————

No warnings!

You had just recently moved to Bedford, NY to live with your grandparents. They offered for you to live with them during the summers when it was too expensive for you to fly back to Portland where your parents lived. Attending NYU completely on scholarship you didn’t have time for a job during the school year. You did cut hair on the side for some of your friends and they paid you some which covered some weekend excursions but nothing too crazy. Little did you know that side hustle would lead to you meeting the love of your life.

Sitting in your bed you scrolled through job listings, a lot of grocery stores, gas stations, target, fast food places were hiring but nothing really caught your eye. Annoyed you closed your laptop letting out a groan.

“I refuse to work at McDonald’s mom. I’m not coming home smelling like fries and grease and it’s a whole 40 minute drive from here! There’s literally nothing interesting here.” You were annoyed with the sparse selection of employment available and despite your obvious disappointment your mom let out a laugh much to your dismay.

“Honey I know you don’t wanna come home smelling like a fast food place but you’re gonna have to choose something. Plus it’s just for the summer! Just like what, 2 months? You can survive 2 months y/n or here maybe ask grandma and grandpa if they have any friends who have businesses. They know a lot of people around there.” Her voice rang through the speaker phone on your nightstand, it wasn’t a horrible idea, your grandparents did have a great reputation in the town and a lot of friends.

“Hmm you’re not wrong?” You said picking up your phone, “I’m gonna go talk to them it’s dinner time anyways.”

“Alright sweetie I love you! Have a goodnight and keep me updated on the job hunt.”

“Will do momma! Love you too!” Hanging up and making your way downstairs the smell of your grandmas food was heavenly. You loved it here.

“Oh perfect! I was just about to call you down!”

Your grandpa said pulling a chair out for you to sit. You smiled and thanked him as he pushed it in.

“So grandpa I was on the phone with mom, looking for jobs with her and I was wondering if you knew anyone who would be willing to hire me for the summer? I mean there’s fast food and restaurants and stuff but I just thought maybe you’d have more, I guess, connections around here?” Taking a bite of the chicken on your plate. There was a few seconds of silence before your grandma spoke.

“You know I actually do know someone who’s hiring but are you good with hair? My friend Carla has a hair studio 10 minutes into town and she’s looking for another employee.”

Bingo.

“I can cut hair! I have a little side hustle at school cutting hair for like $10. I mean I’m not professional but I’m definitely not bad at it. I can also style and dye hair too!” This was the perfect job you thought plus the tips would be great!

“Her name is Carla! I’m going in tomorrow to get my hair trimmed. I’ll introduce you to her, she’s such a sweet lady!” Your grandma said, “We will leave around 11? My appointment is at 11:15 and I like getting there a bit early.”

You agreed. After dinner you spent a few hours playing cards and chatting with your grandparents eventually heading up to your room.

You woke up around 10:30am a little tired from staying up watching hair tutorials refreshing your memory on how to cut hair but you didn’t need much reminding.

You showered, got dressed and ran downstairs grabbing the keys to your old Jeep.

“Grandma I’ll drive!” You exclaimed rushing out the door.

“Alrighty I’ll be there in a second.”

The drive was peaceful. Driving through the colorful country you couldn’t help but admire how nice and green everything around you was. Your thoughts were interrupted by your grandma.

“I don’t know if you watch hockey at all but Carla has a little bit of a celebrity customer you know.” She smiled, “I’ve met him before his name is Trevor Zegras. He’s a hockey player. I’m not sure which team but he’s a cutie. Maybe you’ll get to cut his hair.” She shot you a wink making you roll your eyes.

“Ah yes grandma I definitely need a hot hockey player boyfriend to distract me all summer.”

“He’s a very charming young man! I bet you two would hit it off!” You laughed at her statement. A relationship was definitely the last thing on your mind for the summer. Making friends? That would be fun but definitely no boyfriend.

“Grandma you know I don’t need a boyfriend. I mean especially since I would just be leaving to school in a few months.”

“You never know y/n! People come into your life for different reasons.”

You smiled at her words but it was true. You didn’t want a summer fling. It wasn’t your style. If you were gonna date someone it was going to be serious and having a hockey boyfriend was definitely not on your list of things you needed.

You arrived at the hair salon. The sign displayed on top read, “Bedford Village Hair Design” it was a cute little shop. You could see a few workers at their stations and a few customers in the chairs. You both walked in hearing the chime of the bells, “Alice! Good to see you! You’re a bit early but I’ll just get you started over here-“ the woman who you assumed to be Carla gave you a wide smile.

“And who might you be?” She asked pulling you into a hug.

“Carla this is my granddaughter y/n! She’s staying with me for the summer and I brought her here to introduce her to you! She’s looking for a summer job and I think she would be perfect for your salon!” She said as she sat down in the seat, you followed close behind the two, standing beside Carla.

“Well I definitely wouldn’t be apposed! Can you cut men’s hair? I have more and more male clients coming in and I need more help around here!” Carla spoke trimming away at your grandmas hair. She was definitely not new to this.

“Yes! I cut my guy friends hair all the time in school. It’s like a little side hustle so I can make some money during the year.” You explained.

“You know what that sounds great! If you want just swing by tomorrow let’s say around 9:30am and you can start if that’s okay with you? I have someone coming in at 9:45am who you can do. He’s very sweet.”

“That sounds awesome! Thank you so much!”

You waited in the corner for your grandma to be done her hair which took about 20 more minutes and with that you both left after.

The next morning you woke up throwing on a flowy floral dress trying to match the vibe of everyone’s outfits yesterday. You wanted to make a good first impression so you took your time with your hair and makeup. Rushing out the door it was 9:15 by the time you left luckily there’s never any traffic in the small town.

Walking inside the small business you were greeted by Carla and another worker Gracie. She was around Carla’s age and very very sweet as well.

“Hi you must be y/n!” She greeted you giving you a hug.

“Yes! It’s good to meet you?”

“Gracie! My name is Gracie! Well I’ll give you the heads up since you’re new I’m gonna let you take my regular client at 9:45 today. His name is Trevor! He’s very nice so don’t be intimidated and he will let you know how he wants his cut.” She said handing you an apron.

For some reason your heart dropped a bit but you didn’t know why. You hadn’t even met the guy let alone seen his face and already freaking out.

“Are you sure? I mean I can take someone else if you want-“

“Lovely don’t be silly! I insist don’t worry he won’t bite you! I’ll still be here I’ll just be organizing in the back and Carla will be in the front or back with me.” She said and with that the sound of the door opening and the bells jingling made you freeze in your place.

“Carla! Gracie! And new girl?” You shyly turned around to face him. His smiled was so bright and his eyes were so pretty. He walked over and gave Carla a hug all while scanning you up and down. He pulled away eventually giving you a firm handshake. His touch sending sparks up your arm, making butterflies form in your stomach.

Oh my God he was gorgeous.

“Trevor this is y/n! Y/n this is Trevor! She’s gonna be cutting your hair today Trevor.” Gracie said grabbing his hand. His eyes hadn’t left yours and you could sense the nervous energy radiating off of his tall figure. He ran a hand through his dirty blonde hair which fell perfectly back into place framing his chiseled features.

“Oh cool! I’ll get a buzzcut this time.” The two older women let out exaggerated gasps slapping his shoulder making him laugh.

“Hey I’m kidding! You know I’d never do that Carla.” You couldn’t help but laugh as well at their reaction. You were already loving this job and you’d been there for about 10 mins.

“Trevor the day you get a buzzcut is the day I officially quit my job.” She handed you a barbers gown and he followed your lead by sitting down in the chair letting you throw it over him securing it in the back. Your hands were shaking and he could feel it as you tied the back lightly brushing the back of his neck.

“Alright y/n let me know when you’re done, I’m going to help Gracie in the back. Trevor no buzzcuts.” She gave him another light slap on the shoulder and he shot her a wink. The two ladies walked off exchanged glances at the two of you.

“You can lean back and I’ll wash your hair first.” He followed your directions placing his head in the neck rest.

“I’ve been coming here for a long time and I’ve never seen you here or around here for that matter. Where you from?” Trevor asked looking at you. You refused to make eye contact with him because you knew you’d fold under his eye contact.

“I’m from Portland but I live here in the summer times and I go to school at NYU.” You explained as you massaged his scalp with the shampoo.

“Oh that’s sick! Yeah I live here during the summers but I’m in Cali most of the year.” He was very obviously enjoying you running your hands through his hair and you couldn’t deny. You did as well.

“My grandma comes here a lot. She said you play hockey huh? I didn’t know there were hockey teams in California.” You admitted almost feeling a bit stupid letting those words leave your mouth. Trevor grinning at your remark.

“It’s a weird place for ice hockey that’s for sure but yeah the Anaheim Ducks. I’m guessing you don’t watch hockey?”

“Not at all. I’m not huge into sports but I played volleyball in high school.” You rinsed his hair off then wrapped his hair up in a towel and motioned for him to move to the hair cutting seat. His height shocked you a bit more when he stood up letting you really observe him. You caught the smell of his cologne as he walked by sitting down in the chair. You couldn’t get enough of him but you were fighting the feelings.

“I’ll have to get you to watch a few games. It’s important if we’re friends you watch hockey or at least know how the game works.” He stated looking at you through the mirror making it harder to concentrate with his gaze.

“Also, keep the shape but just make it a bit shorter. It’s kind of hard to see now.” Trevor grabbed a front strand of his hair pulling it down his face to see how long it was.

“Oh so we’re friends now?” Teasing him a bit. You snipped away at his hair following his request. You couldn’t help but notice all the tattoos on his arms as well letting your eyes scan his features more.

“I mean I’m trusting you with my hair so of course we’re friends but let’s say I ask you out on a date. Would that make or break the friendship.” The question caught you off guard.

Y/n you just said you weren’t gonna date anyone. Tell him no.

“I mean I don’t see how a date could hurt the friendship. I’m free anytime past 4 when the salon closes.” You couldn’t believe you just said that. It was like you had no control.

“Perfect I’ll pick you up at 4 tonight. What you’re wearing is perfect.” You blushed at his comment. Finishing up his hair and blow drying it. He stood up and you shook the barber cape off. You did a pretty good job you couldn’t lie.

“You know I might have you cut my hair from now on beautiful.” He turned around to face you.

“I mean I charge more so if you’re fine with that I’m fine with that.” Joking obviously you walked over to the wall grabbing a broom to sweep up all the hair you cut off.

“Worth every penny. I’ll pick you up at 4 from here. Leave your car here and we’ll just take mine.” Carla came back to the front soon after.

“Yay no buzzcut! You did really well Y/n.” Carla gave you an encouraging pat on the shoulder.

Trevor made his way up to the front with Carla to pay while you cleaned up the hair on the floor.

“I’ll see you tonight y/n.” Winking at you he left the salon.

“I’m guessing you two hit it off huh?” Carla smirked.

“I mean I wouldn’t deny it.” You blushed at her comment making her laugh.

“He’s a great kid y/n. I wouldn’t let him near you if he wasn’t.” Carla smoothed out her apron retreating to the back again.

This was gonna be a very interesting summer and an even more interesting school year.

——————————————————————————

Tbh idk how I feel about this one but oh well

[delafiseaseses]

Half Life 1 is an interestin' game (and the themes go to the entire series, so, uh, spoilers for all of it).

It's a game where there's a certain inevitability to things. Gordon will have to push that crystal into the anti-mass spectrometer. The second he got on the Black Mesa Transit System it became inevitable. Hence why the first time we see G-Man is on that journey.

But, even if it wasn't Gordon, it'd've been someone else. Breen was pushing for it, G-Man was involved in it and his "Employers" were counting on it and who knows what other forces were involved too.

Half Life 1, and Half Life overall, is a linear game series. Most linear games are, when you think about it, inevitable stories. Tram rides. Half Life subtly alludes to this fact. Even the final "choice", also done on a tram, isn't really a choice at all "Do as I say or die".

In Half Life 2 G-Man just outright says it, "Rather than offer you the illusion of free choice, I will take the liberty of choosing for you...", even that illusion was something he was no longer bothered with.

Even with G-Man's is partially impeded by the Vortigaunts, he finds the perfect moment to get to Freeman and to taunt Eli. Unforeseen consequences.

The Vortigaunts blocked G-Man from Freeman, so he went into the past and took Alyx. "A previous hire has been unable — or unwilling — to perform the tasks laid before him. We have struggled to find a suitable replacement. Until now." even linear time cannot stop G-Man from getting his way. Alyx may've been around in 2 and the episodes, but she was already doomed to be the next 'hire'.

The capture was also an 'illusion of choice'. He offered Alyx a "choice", asked her a question "What would you want nudged, Ms Vance?", but he already knew what he would do "What if I could offer you something you don't know you want?".

Though, there's another part right before that line that I cut out "Too large [a nudge], given the interests of my employers.", G-Man is the most powerful singular thing we ever get to see. He's still working under something else.

And, who knows, maybe they're working under something else too.

Gordon got on that tram before he was even playable. G-Man got on his tram offscreen. Whatever is beyond him... must've gotten on a tram too.

An isotope doesn't choose its half-life. The rules of reality dictate it. A half-life character doesn't choose its existence, either. It is dictated for them.

Hmm, a little off-topic conclusion aside: it's really no bloody wonder The Stanley Parable started as a Half-Life 2 mod, is it?

[five-rivers]

Cryptid Crawl! 7

“You… aren’t a cryptid,” said the man who’d been chasing Danny for literal miles.

“What?” demanded the other unbelievable human being, who hadn’t been all that far behind the first guy.  “Did these guys hire you to make us look bad?”

“Uh, no?” said Danny, who realized he’d said it like a question.  “No,” he repeated, more confidently, because this was the plan.  “I am making you look bad freelance.”

“That’s the wrong word, dude,” said Tucker.  

“It’s pro bono,” corrected Sam.  

“Pro bono.”  He nodded.  “Like Peter Parker.”

“Still the wrong thing.”

“What does Spider-Man have to do with this?”

“We both wear cool costumes and have our pictures taken, duh,” said Danny, not mentioning the superhero thing.  He started to peel the contacts out of his eyes.  

“What are you doing going around dressed like the Amity Park Phantom, then?”

Danny snorted.  “There is no Amity Park Phantom.  It’s just me and sometimes my friends messing around.”

Crawly’s face turned dangerously furious.  “It’s what?”

“This is like…”  He waved his hand vaguely.  “A prank?  Follow people around, spook them a little?  It’s something we do sometimes, for the bit.”

“The bit?  What do you mean, the bit?”

“For the joke.  You don’t think Amity Park is really haunted, do you?”  Danny rolled his eyes theatrically.  “I was going to do the same thing today, but then you started chasing me.”  He pointed accusingly at Bill.  “Like, you chased me for blocks.  It freaked me out.”  That last bit was hardly even a lie.

“Uh,” said Bill.  “Sorry?”

“I mean, I guess it’s your job, but–”

“Wait, wait, wait,” said Az, who had lost a great deal of his for-television veneer.  “If you’re not a ghost, how were you running that fast?  How were either of you running that fast?  That kind of speed isn’t possible for normal humans!”

“Yeah, duh, that’s because Bill is an ex-military super-spy!” said Crawly, leaning on Bill’s shoulder.

“I’m retired from the spy business, actually.”

“That’s not the point!” said Az, throwing his hands up in the air.  He then pointed accusingly at Danny.  “You!” he said.  “Do you have any idea how this’ll affect our ratings?  I can’t afford to go job hunting again!  No one will hire Jimmy!  He doesn’t talk!”

“Oh, yeah,” said Danny, unzipping the top part of the fake hazmat suit so he could shrug halfway out of it and tie the arms around his waist, “where are the other two stooges?”

Az spun on the spot and stalked away, followed by a good deal of the camera crew.  Then he came back, dragging his brother and Jimmy with him.  Danny’s eyes met with Jimmy’s.  

Danny’s ghost sense started to go off– And he swallowed it.  No breathing a bunch of weird blue fog in the middle of a sunny spring day on camera.  Nope.  Danny had to admit he was impressed, though.  That was a very realistic human disguise.  

“You,” said Az, “are getting interviewed, and you,”  he turned his baleful finger at Crawly, “are getting off our set.”

“What set?  This is an abandoned lot.  You can’t make us do anything.”

They started bickering.

Apart from one of the hosts being a ghost, and the others being bizarre enough that Danny was wondering if they would fit in in Amity Park, this was actually going quite well.  Neither show would have a coherent enough episode to make Amity Park interesting to any wannabe ghost hunter tourists.  Or cryptid hunters.  Whatever.

Gosh, the only thing they needed now was for the UFO hunters to come out of the woodwork.  Or was Hannah enough of one to fulfill that category all by herself?

Before Danny could decide, a massive pillar of green light originating from a couple miles away lit up the sky.  The sky howled and pulsed.  

“What the hell was that?” demanded Az.  “You guys saw that, too, right?”

“Yep,” said Ned.  

“Hmm,” said Jimmy.  

“Bill,” said Crawly, “I think this trip just became worth it again.”

They all left.  

“What,” said Danny, “was that?”

“Uh,” said Tucker, “I’m working on it.  Get Ember.”

“Ember?”

“Or Desiree or someone else who can either cause a massive distraction or unscrew reality because I am–”  there was a crashing sound.  “

“I’ll get her,” said Jazz.  

Danny jumped.  “Have you been listening the whole time?”

“Yeah, but it’s busy here, so sue me.  I’ll talk to Ember, just tell me what you need.”

“Hey, Danny!”

“Dani!” exclaimed Danny, looking up.  “Val!”  He paused.  “Are you sure you should be hoverboarding this close to the cameras?”

“Shut up,” said Val, “we’re here to give you a ride to whatever that was.”

“I’m on my way, too,” said Sam.  “Hold on, there, Tucker.”

.

Danny, Val, and Jazz arrived to see most of the Groovy Ghost Blasters Extreme unconscious and stuck to various walls with bright green goo and Tucker trying to hack the GAV and Danny’s parents nowhere in sight.

“Where are Mom and Dad?” asked Danny, jumping off Valerie’s board.  Valerie tapped her heels together, retracting the board as soon as he was off.  

“Chasing the tiger.  Apparently they think it’s a ghost.”

“Great,” said Danny, rubbing his hand down over his face.  “Sam’s not going to be happy about that.”  He jogged over to the Groovy Ghost Blasters Extreme and started checking vitals.  “Everyone looks alive.”  Now, he should get them off the wall and to a hospital or something.  Getting knocked out wasn’t generally good for people…

“What should I do?” asked Dani.  

“Uh,” said Danny.  “I don’t know, Tucker?  What was your plan?”

“Uh,” said Tucker.  He pointed at a trailer that held the ruins of several vehicles.  “Stage.”  He pointed at the smoking holes in the street.  “Mist from black ice?”  He pointed at the GAV.  “Lighting and sound system?  I don’t know, man.  I’m just making things up.  There’s no way we can hide this on our own.”

“The hunters are getting closer,” said Sam.  “It’d be great if I had some help slowing them down.”

“Okay,” said Danny, “okay.”  He ran over to the GAV and used his handprint to sign in.  Most of the controls were still locked out for him - no driving license - but it got Tucker that little bit forward.  “Uh, then, Dani, you fill up anything smoking with dry ice, Val, you and me, we need to get those guys to a hospital.”

“I think I’ll have to do that myself,” said Val, “unless you have a hoverboard.”

“To cut them out,” said Danny, producing a pair of Fenton Scissors from his pocket and walking over.  “Otherwise, that stuff won’t come off unless you take a wall with it.”  He spoke from unfortunate experience.  Usually, he’d just phase them out, but… witnesses.

Things had been going so well, too.

.

“Babypop is letting me perform in his precious city?” asked Ember, eyebrow raised.  

“Assuming you do it fast, yes,” said Jazz, blowing a strand of hair out of her face.  She was covered in flour, eggs, butter, batter in various states of mixture, and icing.  “You know that your performances were never the problem.  The problem was the mind control.”

“But he’s suddenly okay with it now?”

“He’s got to hide the results of a ecto-gun fight between our parents and trigger happy ghost hunters.  Tucker thinks their ATV trailer could be covered up as a stage.”

“And why should I?  If Amity becomes famous, maybe some of that spills over.  More people to hear me play.  More people to shout my name.”

“Do you want to be famous in your own right, because of your music, or because you’re a ghost?” snapped Jazz.  

“What do you think, babe?” asked Ember, leaning back towards the rest of the ghosts.  

“Do it, and show them the error of underestimating you!” said Skulker, around a mouthful of cake, and how did that even work, exactly?  Jazz just… ugh.  She didn’t want to know.  

“Okay, yeah, sounds good.  I’ve performed on worse.  I’ll take a look.”

.

“Maybe we should call an ambulance, actually,” said Danny.  Getting knocked out like this and staying knocked out was generally a bad sign.  

“And screw things up for whatever friend you’ve got coming to turn this into some kind of rock show?” asked Valerie.  

“It’s just Fenton Sleeping Gas,” called Tucker.  “According to the weapons logs, anyway.”

Danny briefly looked skyward.  “Why do they even have that?  I swear…”

“I have Ember on her way, better get Valerie out of there.”

“Yeah,” said Danny, “just, uh.  Dani!  Help Val carry these guys, will you?”

Dani dropped another chunk of ice into a hole.  “On it!”

“Cool, cool, cool,” said Tucker.  “There’s so much stuff.  Why is there so much stuff?”

Danny wasn’t sure if he was talking about the code in the GAV, the weapons in the GAV, or the debris scattered all over the road.  In any case, there was a lot of stuff.  

But Valerie was flying off, and… “Sam, do we have an ETA on those guys?”

“You’re lucky they didn’t have cars,” said Sam.  “Halfway there.”

“Thanks.”  Danny transformed and started pushing stuff out of the way.  He also did the fastest structural ice-work of his life, covering up the trailer and making it look more stage-like.  He hid several of the gaping holes in the street– hopefully being filled with ice wouldn’t make them worse– and worked on putting out the few fires that were still going, despite Dani’s ice.  

Then he paused and surveyed his work.  It looked…

… Bad.  

Genuinely, there was no way around it.  

“Oi, babypop!” called Ember from above.  “What’re you doing chilling out when it’s time to rock on?”

Smiling at Ember was a new experience for Danny.  Maybe–

“Hey, uh.  That one terrifying camera guy is fighting a tiger, now, what do I do?”

The tiger.  The one his parents had been chasing.  

“Sorry, got to go!” he shouted.  

“Are you ditching me?” demanded Ember.  

“It’s not you,” said Tucker, “it’s the tiger.”

.

“That’s a tiger,” said Ned.  He might have been more concerned about the situation if the tiger wasn’t running away from Bill.  

“Hng,” said Jimmy.  

“Genuinely a tiger.  Just a tiger.”

“Hm,” said Jimmy.  

“You know what?  I’m done.”

“Yes!  Get it, Bill!  If we can’t have a cryptid we can at least get an anomalous big cat!”

“Hm?”

“Just done.  Done with this, done with the show, done with everything.  I want to retire and work on classic cars.”

“You can’t retire,” hissed Az, who was hiding behind Jimmy.  “You’re in your thirties!  And we don’t know what that light was, yet!”

Ned was very tempted to say screw the light.  

Behind him, the producer attempted and failed to call animal control.  

“Fine, we can go see what the light was about, but if we get there and it’s a kid in an iceberg–”

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh, like you never watch cartoons.”

“Yes!  Yes!  Now zoom in on its face.  I’ve never seen a tiger like this before, maybe it’s endangered!”

.

“Please, please set up,” begged Tucker.  “Please start playing.”

“Uh, no,” said Ember, crossing her arms.  “I’m not performing for an empty street.”

“You said–”

“I’d said I’d take a look.  So here I am.  Looking.”

“Ember,” squeaked Tucker.  “Come on.  You got free cake.”

“For staying hidden, yeah.  But that’s not my point, geek squad.  Don’t you think that me playing to absolutely no one would be suspicious?  No way this is a concert.  It’s a special effects test for later this week.  And you’d better believe that later this week, I’ll be collecting.”

.

Danny flashed into visibility in front of his parents and prepared himself for a very long chase.  

.

They eventually got hold of animal control.

.

“No, you can’t be here.  I’ve got it cleared with the city to test this stuff, and it’s proprietary. You’re lucky security is on break, so you’d better get your stupid cameras out of here before they get back.”

“But the light–” started Az.

“Pro. Pri. E. Tary.  What. Part. Don’t. You. Get.  Little T, how’s your martial arts class going, can you kick these guys out?”

“Uh,” said Tucker, who was honestly sort of impressed by Ember’s whole performance, improvised as it was.  But then, he supposed she had practice.  It must be hard getting a venue when you were dead and had no money.  Between how she’d altered the stage with her powers and what she was saying now, they might be able to pull this off.  “Maybe?”  He sized up the tallest of the three ‘Investigators.’ “Probably not, actually.”  Not without weapons, anyway.  

“Whatever, it’s not like that’s what I pay you for.”

“You know what?” asked Az, who was, at this point, staring dead-eyed into space.  “I’m done.  Let’s go get cake.”

“That’s the smartest thing you’ve said since we got here,” said Ned.  

“Cake,” said Jimmy.  

“Oh, crud,” mumbled Tucker.  

“What?” said Sam.  He could see her head peeking out of an alley a few blocks down.  “Are they not buying it?”

“Worse,” whispered Tucker.  “They’re going for cake.”

.

“Hey,” said Crawly, as the tiger was loaded into the truck by animal control.  “This might have been a bit of a bust, but we can still go get cake.”

“Any day where I get to wrestle a cryptid tiger is a good day,” said Bill.  

“Uh,” said one of the animal control people.  “It’s a regular tiger, just albino.”

Crawly held up a finger.  “Hush, you.”

[wawamouse]

Oz Rewatch 3: S5E05: Impotence

Storylines

Aftermath of Lalar’s death; Omar and Robson fight; Said catches Omar dealing drugs for Redding; Said beats him up and ends up in the Hole; Omar struggles with his sobriety with Said gone

Pancamo has a staph infection

Winthrop and Guenzel fight in the gym; McClain meets with Keller and then Beecher, failing to pass on a message; Schillinger approaches Beecher saying he wants to change his ways and offering to help him see Keller; Guenzel homophobically fights Beecher and ends up in the cage; Schillinger tries to make a deal

Brass is bitter; Rebadow wins the lottery and Brass cashes it in for himself

Seeing eye dog training continues; Hill goes into septic shock due to being on heroin; Redding is determined to find out who gave him the tits; Penders crime flashback; dog training with the steaks; Jia Kenmin tells a creepy joke about a dog;

Morales asks Alvarez where Mukada’s office is; Morales meets with his brother-in-law and beats him for hurting Annette; Mukada refuses to allow Kirk back into Catholicism

Cyril is facing death row and is continuing to be violent in solitary; Ryan wants to hire a good defense; Suzanne, Seamus, and Aunt Brenda meet to talk about a defense and it goes poorly; Ryan gives up on saving Cyril from Death Row

Sister: The other time Said went to him, he was like “you figure it out that~ that’s not my problem~”. It’s like his bald spot is a portal for all his brain cells to exit through…

S1!Said popping in like ‘the first, eh?’

Sister: I mean, he kind of just looks like a standard hot dog. Me: …What does that mean? Sister: He’s just average hot dog looking. Like his general shape. (gesturing) He’s got brown hair and he’s not scrawny or freakish looking… He looks like everyone else.

Sister: Glad is for gay people… Me: ...Oh, GLAAD...

Hmm...

Sister: If this is a complete match, [Sister] doesn’t like this episode. Me: Why? Sister: I just don’t like these plot lines. Also, [Brass] is a dick.

Sister: That’s not a muscle… Me: We don’t watch this show for accurate anatomy facts. Sister: Oh right… Miguel said he was 80% water. (Tutting) They need to go back to class. Me (muttering): Together? Sister: Get out of here with your little fanfictions, Wawa… These people need education.

Sister: Who’s Mukada? Me: The priest. Sister: Oh. He had to ask Miguel that? There wasn’t anyone else? Me: I guess the implication is that none of the gang goes to church… Sister: Yeah, but he could go to anyone. The staff… He could take a walk.. wander around… explore…

Sister: This literally doesn’t matter. This whole ‘wuh well it was self defense’ thing here doesn’t even make sense because it wasn’t self defense. The dude wasn't attacking [Cyril]. And even if they thought they had a good reason for attacking the Chinese dude,, that doesn’t change anything because you can't just kill someone because they said something you don't like. They literally have no defense. Also, hasn’t he killed like three people? Me: Besides the Gloria’s husband, two.

Stray Thoughts

Sister had an ongoing commentary about how ugly Beecher’s hair was. Her musings literally spanned the entirety of the Beecher story section

Sister wonders why nobody seems interested in the fact that Cloutier disappeared (lol forgot to finish my thought)

Our mom called while we were watching the episode lol

[toughtink]

watched the first 4 eps of buddy daddies since folks have been comparing it to spy x family, and i have some thoughts! mostly it’s cute, and yes, similar to spy x family in that it’s about hired murderers pretending to be the parents of a little girl. but the vibes feel pretty different and more…hmm generic anime? maybe partially due to the modern setting, but also it treats it’s main child character much differently.

while anya is an active protagonist in sxf holding up her own end of the story and helping to protect the fragile peace between east & west, miri so far has been more of a plot element, a vehicle by which to introduce chaos into the story and force the actual protagonist to act. she feels flatter than anya, more of what someone’s idea of a kid is who hasn’t spent a ton of time with the nitty gritty weirdness of how little kids think. i do wonder if she’ll get more agency down the line, but i thought this was an interesting and notable difference.

[history-detective]

BlackStar ~Theater Starless translation

Season 1 – Episode 8:

Chapter 3 – (B) Side stories

Side B-4 = Find your whereabouts

(Ran, Qu, Hari)

Ran- It's fine. I don't care about that. It's definitely not a bad story.

Hari- Certainly.....

Qu- What are you doing, Ran? Aren't you helping the customers?

Ran- Ah, there's no fraud or anything involved, what--

Hari-I was listening to Ran's story because he said he is an acquaintance of the owner.

Ran- That's right, that's right. I was listening to this guy who asked about Haseyama.

Ran- Look, don't you think we are matching? Yaayyyy!

Hari- Ah, I'm not like that.

Ran- What? Now I'm in a bad mood.

Qu- .....As long as we all get along, I don't mind.

Hari- Apparently there were also people from the hall staff [who started working at Starless]. I thought maybe I could start with that too.

Qu- Who are you talking about?

Ran- Yakou, Yakou.

Qu- Oh, that's true, but I'm sure Kei hired him.

Qu- In the first place, Kei is the one who decides the Starless cast.

Ran- Oh yea. So why don't we negoitate with Kei instead of Haseyama.

Hari- Is that so. Now, I'll go speak with him. Well, I'm off.

Qu- .........That's what you set out to do, isn't it?

Ran- I was in a groove, because it's interesting.

Ran- But that guy, isn't he just a spoilt brat? I wonder if he can cope in a novelty store like this one.

Qu- I don't think it would be a good idea to provoke someone like that, knowing it's a novelty store.

Qu- Besides, that guy has a surprising amount of guts. He reminds me of someone.

Ran- Maica?

Qu- Right.

Ran- Ah~ Both are stubborn.....

Qu- That's it.

To be continued....

Side B-5 = I've never forgotten anything

(Akira, Kokuyou, Kei)

Akira- Yaho, Kei. Do you smoke?

Kei- I quit a long time ago.

Akira - Eh, you used to smoke.

Kei- It's [smoking] child's play.

Akira - Oopsie.

Kei- And?

Akira - What?

Kei- You must have stopped me because you had something to say.

Akira - .......Hmmmm...

Akira - Kei, what's your current view on W? Regarding Kokuyou and Mokuren.

Kei- Not you and Kokuyou?

Akira- Yea, well, not that.

Kokuyou- About Akira and I, what were you saying?

Kei- Do you want to hear?

Kokuyou- Not really. I just came here to get some tobacco.

Kokuyou- Akira, do you have any?

Akira- Nope, I don't need any. I have my own.

Kokuyou- Hmm.

Kei- Akira, to answer your question from earlier. Either way, I don't care.

Kei- I wonder who will be at the top of W, Mokuren or Kokuyou.

Akira - Uwaa, why would you say that at this timing......?

Kokuyou- Akira, what do you mean by that?

Akira - What I mean by that is....

Akira - What are you going to do about Mokuren? Mokuren isn't coming, so we don't have the time [to practice].

Kokuyou- I'm not really going to do anything.

Akira - Is that okay? Even if Mokuren is gone?

Kokuyou- Mokuren is the kind who just leaves when not able to dance anymore. Mokuren can do whatever they want.

Akira - All you have to do is adjust it a little [the dance]. That alone is enough to convince Mokuren.

Kokuyou- Me? Why?

Akira - Oh I see. Kokuyou hasn't changed since the old days.

Akira - You let others match you but won't yourself match others.

Kokuyou- ............

Akira - I think it's natural to match each other.

Akira - You feel like you would rather beat up your opponent than give in.

Kokuyou- Don't say that much.

Akira- Is that so? I'm pretty involved though.

Kokuyou- You are interfering without permission.

Akira- How terrible--. I'm not allowed to help out a friend?

Kokuyou- That's right. I can do it alone.

Akira - I'll leave it at that.

Akira- .....But really, you haven't changed. Remeber, 'I don't want to change'.

Akira - You would rather kill someone than change.

Akira - ......Like that time.

Kokuyou- Akira.

Akira- Did you know? It's been more than fifteen years since then.

Kokuyou- .........

Akira - Are you running away?

Kokuyou- I haven't forgotten at all.

To be continued....

DISCLAIMER – This is not an accurate translation! Please do not steal. Please let me know of any corrections and what I translated wrong- I may have just written what I think works best, but if you think otherwise, let me know. :)

[setagaya-division]

Yorii's Thoughts on Toyama Division

Asato Rikiya

"A farmer? That sounds like an important profession, but one I'm not too eager to try out anytime soon. I mean, I'm not discouraging it or putting it down. After all, all jobs have their place in the world. But I couldn't see myself doing that. Digging around in the dirt for plants and crops. It just sounds a little too... dirty, for my tastes."

Yano Ietsuna

"Ugh, Yano. I probably shouldn't say anything about this guy, especially since I commissioned him to make a glass statue for me. I heard around that this guy is an expert at glass figurines, so I decided to hire him. But still, this guy seriously needs to get a hold on his emotions. No one's going to hire a guy that seems like he cries or pouts at the slightest hint that something is trouble."

"...But then again, it's none of my business. I'm just hoping he hurries up soon with that statue. ...Hmm. You want to know who the statue is model after? Sorry, but that's a secret! Let's just say... it involves a certain lady from Edogawa."

Kensaku Morimoto

"So this is the doctor guy that Elliot trains under? ...Meh, he seems alright for an old guy. He's apparently some botanical researcher, meaning he studies plants. But what exactly do plants have to do with medicine? I don't get it. But then again, I guess that's why his profession exists, so we can find out."

"Besides that, Elliot tells me this guy suffers from the same thing that we all do: he can't remember part of his life. Some of his memories are missing. Either he witnessed something traumatic that caused him to block out those memories, or someone in Chuohku is responsible for this. I'm definitely putting my money towards the latter."

"...Hmm, lost memories... Hmm? Oh, sorry. It's just something was on the tip of my tongue, but it must not have been anything important. I don't think so anyway..."

ECO BooN

"So now people from the country are joining the D.R.B. too? I wonder why. I mean, they don't seem to have any real reason for joining, aside from the doctor guy. But to be honest, I'm actually a bit interested in seeing this team rap. I'm kinda curious to see know what they'd even rap or sing about. It's definitely something to look forward to, all right."

[notasapleasure]

Doctors season 10 run (2008) - Part 1/3

Warning! Long post...

We're here for Matt Brown, Joplin's third appearance on the long, long, long running series Doctors. He's in seven episodes, so fingers crossed he's got fun things to do!

Episode 8: Light Fingers, Loose Tongues

Lurking in a bar looking unshaven and moody! With a spectacular eye roll when his sexist acquaintance brings along a guy who's only drinking water...

"A top man, loyal as the day is long." And apparently reminds the sexist businessman of himself as a kid, though he still hasn't had any lines.

His boss is an absolute wrong-un doing a lot of Crime I am sure and I suspect dear Matt is there to do the leg-breaking his boss is so fond of joking about.

Oooh his boss is a cop-killer. Hopes of Joplin actually having something interesting to do in his run of episodes hmm....fading.

He did just get to mumble a line or two though! I'm rooting for Hired Muscle with a Heart who will dob his boss in because he fancies Jess the undercover barmaid or something.

Anyway. Pretty in leather, though the haircut's a bit nerdy. Just ignore the fact he's laughing at his boss's sexist jokes.

Uh oh is he onto Jill the undercover cop barmaid? Or is "Enjoy yer fag?" his idea of a chat-up line?

Hhhhhdhdgdgdhffff 🥵 smoulder smoulder

Undercover police lady bartender: "What's a nice lad like you doing hanging about with someone like him?"

Matt, sounding like language is a foreign concept: "I work for ‘im. So do you."

Undercover police lady bartender who’s decided she’s going to have to flirt her way out of this with the only attractive man at the table: "Well just make sure you don't pick up any of his bad habits..."

Episode 9: Walking on Sunshine

I wonder if there will be any actual doctors in this episode?

Ah Matt's sexist boss is called Jack, and also gets to have a few digs at 'the Lithuanians'. And Matt is on car-driving for the obnoxious business-school son duty.

Ooh, bb doesn't like drugs and he doesn't like Jack's spoilt son Callum and he doesn't like the idea of giving the spoilt son a fancy car. It's about respect (for the car).

Apologies that I can't report much on this episode it features some amateur comic and I had to mute all his scenes because he drove me insane. Stand up comedy plus toddlers plus the miserable self-pitying doctor eurghh.

Ooh no, Matt's a good judge of character even among the criminal underworld - Jack's son is unhinged in a very unsubtle way. Luckily, Matt is good at first aid. Man with bloodied face lying behind the bins? "Bad."

He was quite sweet and gentle getting the injured guy up and is now on 'subtly drop off the broken-nosed drug dealer at A&E duty'.

I almost gave up at the end of this because y i k e s was it dull but THEN the doctor that was annoying me got. Literally flattened by a massive truck and it was the funniest thing I've seen in ages. Solid ten-minute gut-busting laugh. On that endorphin high I will continue in the knowledge that the annoying doctor won't be back!

Episode 12: Hunger Strike

The university is selling out to ASDA (well, Walmart. Well "Novo-Mart") because it's broke. A student is on hunger strike. "Oh go and have some breakfast!" Sick burn, Treasurer.

Matt's still around, but he's lost the jacket. Joplin aficionados: I am trying to get a good look at the arm that has a scar in Death in Paradise.

Inconclusive. More research needed.

Damn he has a hoodie on now. And continues to be suspicious/vaguely threatening/maybe creeping on Jill the undercover bartender. Naughty naughty, hiding guns.

Took me an age to get these screenshots, it was like the director told him to chew his gum as obnoxiously as possible crol

Episode 14: Wooden Heart

Whatever happened in episode 13 at the bar I suppose I'll just have to figure out as best I can - Matt wasn't involved so I don't care! Basically, Jack is manipulative and controlling, his son is a psycho, and Jill the undercover policewoman had to pretend she was seeing the solicitor who knows who she is.

Boo, hiss, Jack is contemplating using a baby and its pram to smuggle Bad Things! Matt isn't present.

This is so weird. The dentist is Elvis.

Oh HAI Matt! Costumes continue to become fluffier. More greys than blacks. Does it mean anything? He's openly snarking at the boss' psycho son and the teen mum who wants work running drugs in her pram...

"She's ok...if you're into gym slips."

"Might let you have a little go in her buggy an' all."

Well at least he gets to be a little bitch :')

Ohhhhhhh my god is he gonna make his move on the undercover copper bar lady? SUCH a creep but still. Fucking would in a heartbeat.

He did not make a move :’) just Loomed.

Oh "don't you do anything but skulk?" but he's so good at it...

Those were like...the most lines he's had in this? Initiative and all that! Still menacing as fuck in a quiet way, still unclear if he's hitting on Jill, looking out for her, or threatening her.

"If I were you, I'd worry about your own back..."

---

TBC: This post is already way too long and the last four episodes he’s in (16, 17, 18, 19) are a run, so presumably link together more closely. I’ll try to do a part 2 tomorrow, for anyone who, like me, is simply dying to know what side Matt’s going to be on, and just how bonkers the denouement of this whole thing is going to be :))

[humanoidtyphoons]

it’s kinda hard to ship them, because there didn’t seem to be much feelings on either side, and I want the turmoil of conflicting emotions.

There certainly isn't for Milady, whom everyone ultimately surmises is nothing but pure evil, however by the sequel, Athos is consumed with guilt by executing her vigilante style and state's at one point that he constantly thinks of her son, as well as that he wouldn't have been able to kill her if she brought him up during her execution..

And this is before her grown son shows up as the new villain, speaking of which, Athos continually tries to make peace with Mordaunt & even prevents the other musketeers from killing him. Plus its strongly implied that Milady's son was fathered by Athos.

I do consider Milady a henchman tho, rather than the big bad, tho, since Richelieu runs the show.

I'd argue that Milady is the main villain, its not Richeleiu that's a sadistic mass murderer, whom commits crime for the thrill of it, whom hired assassins to kill the protagonists, whom tried to poison an entire party, that killed the protagonist's true love.

Plus Cardinal Richelieu, whilst ruthless, is acting for the good of France, Milady has everything she could everything want, but kills because she likes it, the cast even states the latter in the book!

More on the subject of gender flipped dangerous villain /w obsession with heroine scenarios, I feel reversals are rare because we almost always subconsciously think of women as weaker & the submissive party in a relationship. So the hero isn't danger from the villainess like the heroine is from the villain, instead he's viewed as "conquering" her.

Also from what I remember from the parody Sentai, the example you gave was clearly a henchwoman and not the main deadly villain.

Milady is certainly one of a kind, at least. You’re making me want to reread Three Musketeers, because I can’t really remember if there were any passages in her perspective, tbh. I vaguely remember her tricking someone to free her when she was imprisoned, but I don’t recall any of her thoughts on Athos/d’Artagnan, tbh. But perhaps she really is pure evil, as others assume her to be? She’s fun, though.

I do wonder if Milady might have lived if Dumas had ideas of the sequel in mind… so she could have used that excuse. But hmm, I kinda like that she kept quiet about it.

I do need to get back into Twenty Years Later!! I’m technically reading it and just. Yeah. Got distracted, even if it’s by my bedside to remind me to read it every night… didn’t get too far in it, but my curiosity is piqued!

Hmm… I kinda agree and disagree, tbh, re: Milady being the villain of TTM over Richelieu. (Partly bc I’m charmed by Tim Curry’s performance even tho that movie is a terrible adaptation. But… I still really like it bc it constantly played on tv, so it’s nostalgic for me and he’s just sooo hammy.) I agree that Milady is certainly the more evil out of the two, and does the heavy lifting. But.

Even though it’s fairer to recontextualize him as the musketeer’s antagonist, and by TYL, they changed their mind about him, and could see he was acting for France’s best interest, in hindsight, even if it butted heads with how the musketeer’s would act in France’s best interests… that’s not what they thought at the time. (I am curious to see how Mazarin fares though…) So, I still sort of see him as a villain, and adaptations certainly don’t help (altho Peter Capaldi, had he continued the role in s2… perhaps the show could have leaned more into it.)

To me, I also think Richelieu is more of a villain, because he’s running the show and pulling strings offscreen tbh. Milady certainly acts of her own accord, does plenty, but she is still an underling. I don’t think she ever disobeys orders, but my memory is kinda murky on that. She still is a villain even if she’s a henchman, but I wouldn’t really consider her to be the main villain unless she overthrew Richelieu.

Re: gender villain reversals, yeah. That’s probably a likely reason… although does kinda make me wonder why there aren’t more villain/hero, villainess/heroine ships in that case. Might be looking in the wrong places tho.

Do you not consider henchmen/hero(ine) to be villain/hero romances? Because I would still consider Meg/Hercules a villain/hero romance despite Meg dying/switching sides in the end. Or idk, perhaps I’m splitting hairs, and villains are both the main big bad, and their minions. (I still think it’s relevant to the topic.) But you’re right in the sense that yeah, it’s harder to find main deadly villainesses with hero romances, going by those conditions, in that case.

[blankwashed]

Heartstrings P3 P1 P2 P4 P5

The drive to your house felt like it took forever, each moment filled with conflicting emotions. His car was filled with a scent you find comforting, the scent of leather and his cologne hugged you like a warm embrace.

Satoru was a gentleman, opening the door for you. There was a part of you that wished for him to help with your seatbelt, even though it was a silly thought.

"Satoru?" you said, turning your head to him. He looked majestic in the moonlight while driving. One hand on the wheel and the other on the screen of his car, trying to pick a song after he has connected his phone with his car through the auxiliary cord.

He looked at you, with both of his white eyebrows raised, as if to ask, "Yes?"

Bashfully, you just shook your head and fiddled with your phone instead.

"Hey, what's wrong? I thought you're fine with talking to me about this?" Satoru's voice was laced with concern as he let go of the auxiliary cord and reached out to hold your hand. His touch was gentle, a silent reassurance that he was there for you, ready to listen and offer support.

You were hesitant, feelings crashing in your heart. But as you felt the warmth of Gojo's hand, a sense of comfort washed over you, easing the knots of tension in you chest.

"It was nothing, really," you chuckled. "Just...thinking of stuff,"

"Thank you for being here for me, Satoru."

"Hey. this is for all the times you took the fall for me in high school. Never want Yaga to know the stuff I did there, hahaha. Always here to help, y/n," he winked and continue to drive.

It felt safe with Satoru. Like he was your lifeboat, out there ready to save you. You also knew that having a crush on him so soon would be preposterous. But isn't life funny? Always playing tricks on you, never letting you know before someone or something is removed or added.

As you arrived home, you felt both relief with a twinge of regret, watching him drive away into the night.

It hit you like a sudden gust of wind, stirring up a whirlwind of emotions you didn't expect.

Ding!

You looked towards your phone. Oh. Satoru messaged you.

Hope you rest well for tonight, y/n. It was nice catching up and your food was *chefs kiss* 😉. Thank you for everything.

Unknowingly, you were blushing. Oh, another message came in.

Hey, I was thinking, I have a friend who is a head chef. Your cooking is amazing, and I think he would love to meet you. Interested?

You shifted your lips to a side. Hmm, maybe he's right. Cooking has always been something that people have always complimented you since you were a child. Naoya never cared for your cooking, always saying that the expensive chefs that he hired were better.

To break free from the curse, your former husband implanted in your brain, you agreed with meeting the chef with Satoru.

Aww thank you Satoru 😘 Sure! I'd love to focus on cooking more now. Text me the time and address, I'll meet you there.

You gripped your phone to your chest, your heart beating rapidly, unsure whether it's because you're meeting an A-class chef or because of Satoru.

"It's better I get some sleep now... I want to look fresh for..." you paused.

Who are you looking fresh for?

"Nononono..." you muttered as you hit your head with your fists.

Not so soon. Please.

Suddenly, you felt the urge to barf. Not you forgetting that a child was growing inside of you and thus, going to the toilet to throw up.

After cleaning yourself up, you felt very tired so you just threw yourself on the bed, already for the end of the day, not caring to remove your makeup or change your clothes.

It was the nerve wrecking day, you found yourself filled with nervous excitement. It was time to meet Satoru's renowned chef friend. You couldn't shake the feeling of anticipation as you wondered what the meeting would be like and what opportunities it might bring.

Satoru arrived at your house, his charming smile putting you at ease as he greeted you at the door. "Ready to meet my friend?" he asked with a mischievous glint in his eye.

With a nod, you followed Satoru to a nearby café, heart racing with suspense. As the both of you settled at a table, Satoru's friend arrived, his chef's coat that was adorned with multiple accolades. Satoru beamed with pride as he introduced you, his words filled with genuine admiration for your cooking skills.

The chef's eyes lit up with interest as he listened to Satoru's praise. He asked about your culinary background, inspirations, and favorite dishes to cook.

As you shared stories of your culinary journey, from learning from your parents, cooking for some of your friends during high school and trying new recipes that you see online, you could see Satoru's bright blue eyes becoming...brighter. Like he was drawn in to your explanation of how you became such a good cook.

"I can see that you have an honest interest in becoming a true chef, y/n. But as of course, I can't make decision so soon without trying out one of your dishes. Will you be available this Friday, perhaps?" the chef took out a pen and notepad, ready to schedule you in.

Of course, you were overjoyed. "Anytime is fine with me, chef!" you gleamed and agreed with Friday.

"I have one question, chef.." you ask timidly. Satoru was also keen to know what your question would be with his head tilted to the left.

"Would it be okay for Satoru to join?" you asked, noticing that Satoru was chuckling silently.

The chef agreed to him attending the dinner and since all of you had nothing else to say, the chef bid goodbye and that he can't wait for the dinner you're going to prepare.

Satoru nudged you, making you look at him and raise a brow.

"Thank you. You know I'm already in love with your cooking," he grinned like a fox.

“Whoever you’re going to date is so lucky. Ooh! y/n, have you ever thought of making desserts? Like a dorayaki, castella or Kikufuku?” Satoru fanboys over desserts like the sweet-freak he is while you were chuckling.

“Tell you what, one of these days you can come over to my place and I’ll make a dessert buffet for you okay?”

(NEXT CHAPTER)

[measuringbliss]

Spider-Man Read-Through 025: L to the OG (Clone Saga) (ASM 141-150) P1

MASTERPOST

In this batch! Mysterio! The Jackal's identity revealed! THE DEAD SPEAK! And a ton of angst, naturally. But more importantly...

To my absolute delight, the Spider-Mobile hasn't disappeared. I thought it was a one-off thing, but turns out it seems here to stay!

...At least, that's what I thought, until Spidey crashed his bungie in the New York Bay. Hmm! Wasn't there an alley there, instead of the ocean, Spidey and the readers wonder? Is this the tragic end of the Spider-Mobile?

Later, Peter falls asleep in class (very relatable), and Prof. Warren is there to try and keep him from sinking. I love his vest and tie combo by the way. Also, yeah, Peter still goes to university! His classes are so rarely depicted that you'd be forgiven for forgetting about it.

MJ's back, baby! And she keeps objectifying Peter, to our greatest pleasure.

We also get great scenery and gorgeous panels. Ross Andru was brimming with energy.

I'm sure nothing harrowing will happen in these issues. Don't worry about it.

We get a quick scene with Jameson looking strangely elated. I can only imagine he hired someone (probably Mysterio) to mess with our hero. Oooh, Johnny boy, you can't reach the level of the Jackal.

Spidey is famished and steals a poor guy's food, vaguely intending to send him bills before getting interrupted by----SMOKE! Not Felicity Smoke, but actual smoke! Mysterio's smoke! The showdown quickly begins.

Mysterio issues are always a treat, and this one is no exception.

However, this fighting style... reminds me of the Tarantula. The pointed boots, the agility...

Illusions keep piling up and...

Gorgeous art! That's something we've never seen. Oh, Andru, Conway, you know it, you're in your prime.

Ned needs a much better tie, but I appreciate the attempt. Peter going insane is a theme throughout this batch.

Onto #142! Stuff happens and May notably makes an evil face.

She keeps that trend for the next issue. She should chill out a bit.

Ross Andru is great, but his face are a bit much a lot of times. Romita Sr. had a softness that Andru just can't emulate.

Meanwhile, Betty tells MJ the big news:

(We later learn it's for August 27th, which means we might see it in about 30-50 issues or so.)

Because the cast really needs good, no, GREAT news in their life right now.

Coming back from the Bugle, Peter sees someone who looks like... *her.* Surely, it must be another one of Mysterio's illusions...

Peter's naturally very angry, because this one feels very mean. Oh, Peter...

He figured off-screen that Mysterio put a VR chip on his suit that basically shows him what Mysterio wants him to see. Thanks to that, he figures out where Mysterio's hiding and...

Spider-Man: Far From Home (2019)

In the end, he's arrested. He was just a buddy of the original Mysterio (who seemingly really died) and, as he's arrested, he warns Jameson to give him a lawyer. Jonah skips town instead! Not the most interesting issue, but it compliments the previous one well and does a very clever set-up.

#143 starts between Christmas and New Years' Eve. Spidey keeps seeing *her* everywhere, but Robertson asks him to follow Jonah to Paris.

Hahaha, I just saw the upper panels on my TL this morning. I still don't get exactly what she means, but who cares, they're kissing! They're official! And they look cute. Robertson obviously approves.

They're adorable, really. I'm on board!

Turns out Jonah's been captured, but Conway and Andru are more interested in drawing the monuments of France. That's understandable! The villain (Cyclone) also kidnaps Robertson and says Spidey has 24 hours to give him the money, or else...!

That's how this issue ends, and we're now trudging in the territory of issues I've already read (again). Feels nice to have context for... well, everything.

Ish #144!

We get an actual scene with May and Anna, who go out to see a movie (and secretly kiss each other, naturally), and May is sad that Gwen Stacy died, thinking it should have been her instead of Gwen... which is a reference to how May was supposed to die in her place (and I think it would have made for a better cast but oh well).

At least, it's a great scene.

The Cyclone and his goons spend the issue complaining about Americans, and it's very funny how his thoughts were probably a caricature at the time but resonate a lot today.

Anyway, the day's saved and Peter goes back home to find...

Oh my!

Good for her!

I was initially planning to stop here to make a second post, but I'm not doing too bad at restraining myself from uploading too many pics, so let's continue.

Ish 145! Peter lashes out at Gwen (?) and is soon confronted by the Scorpion. Just before that, a textbox helpfully informs us that Marvel Team-Up 33 happens, and I shall proceed to read a summary. It's ok, nothing groundbreaking.

After the fight (where the Scorpion escapes), Peter goes back to the hospital, and Gwen's there with everybody else. Ned confirms that not only this Gwen has the same fingerprints as the one who know, the OG Gwen's grave is also still full. Ooh, drama!

MJ's not sure she's liking this.

Ish 146 opens with the Jackal saying it's been two years since *that* death, and since the Jackal was born. By now, Conway has a good handle of who hides behind that mask. Interestingly, the Jackal shatters a head statue of Spidey, similarly to ASM #129 where the Punisher (in his first appearance with the Jackal!) shoots a full-body statue of Spidey.

One page later, Gwen says she's been dead for two years. Oooh! She's hanging out with Peter and asks him the big question:

She proceeds to slam her face in a revolving door, as is custom when you just got dumped.

The Scorpion attacks May after being advised by the Jackal, but Spidey catches him and we see the best panels of the issue just in time to close it.

Ish 147! The Tarantula is back and I'm very happy. While he escapes from prison (good for him), May and MJ have a heart-to-heart. MJ's not pleased that Peter's completely stopped giving her attention, and May advises her to fight for her man. It's pretty sweet actually!

Ned gives a file from the doctor to Peter, who learns Gwen is... a clone! Of course she is. It's the original Clone Saga, after all!

Spidey and the Tarantula have an actual fun fight in the middle of New York traffic (which reminded me of the Spot and Miles's first battle in Across the Spider-Verse) until the latter pushes Spidey into a bus... from which every civilian soon departs, afraid of the fight. In a fun twist, an apparently puppeted Gwen gets on the bus... and in a fun twist, the driver turns out to be the Jackal!

See what I mean when I say it seems just out of the Spider-Verse movies?

Eventually, they stop just where the OG Gwen died and the Jackal reveals HE'S the one who created Gwen's clone.

The Tarantula pushes Spidey, whose feet and hands are shackled, off the bridge... and that's where the issue ends.

In the readers' letters, they keep bringing up the fact that Peter's still in college. From my point of view, their complaints are completely uninteresting. But it's because it's 2023 for me, not 1975.

Ish 148! The textbox helpfully informs us of the following: "At this point, we're not even going to try to explain it. You'll have to pick it up as we race along, Tiger!"

It's funny, but also... yeah.

Spidey successfully stops his fall, but he knocks his head on the bridge. The Jackal reveals he hid a JETPACK on Gwen, and they all fly away in a quite strange threesome.

Spidey tricks officers into freeing him from the shackles, and he gets away. MJ's waiting for him, but he doesn't give her the time of the day.

I put this entire page because I'm thirsting, and I'm also here for the Ned/Peter Ho Yay. They actually make an incredible team on the next page, they reach together the conclusion that Prof. Warren and/or his assistant might be involved. Their conversation and comfort around each other is very strong in a way you really don't see. I don't know. I'm shipping it. It's an awesome page and it's just a conversation.

Turns out Gwen's DNA samples have disappeared from the college fridge, and Warren pinpoints his assistant, Anthony Serba (a name I never forgot all those years, I don't know why), as the likely culprit.

But at Anthony's place...

I didn't remember the Tarantula being so involved, but I'm here for it!

Spider-Man's sexuality is a subject we must briefly broach. He regularly says "handsome" to all kinds of men when he's quipping, however, here, he says to the Taratula, "Sorry, pal--but I only dance with girls."

This is just food for thoughts.

Spidey beats the Tarantula, but as he's dragging his body...

Hmm!

Hmm-hmm!

Check out the next part of this post!

[guhamun]

JIANYU CLICKED HIS TONGUE, throwing the other a look, though he said nothing in regards to their initial words about his having to run for his life. Instead, he focused on everything stated afterwards. ❝I mean, the boss has plenty of connections, but it’s just…something about the general…❞ He didn’t know much about the New Federation except it that its Lawless Zone was akin to a hellscape based on what some of the other Ghost Hounds had told him. Many had a great loathing for nobles, a feeling that was not unwarranted considering they were the ones who lived in the city itself with all the privileges that came with that. ❝He’s not above using others for whatever his goal is, but he still wishes to keep things fair between him and the other party. If they betray him, he always kills them and makes a show of it, which tends to lend credence to his reputation and frightens the shady ones. Can’t say he’s very forgiving.❞ Even his Hounds knew to never cross him, although there was no reason to. His rules were strict, yet it was only strict in a way that kept the organization functional. That was what made him so reliable a leader, and them a good group to hire.

     ❝Hmm… if it’s just me being in the background, then that’s fine. I can do that.❞ What the hell was he even supposed to talk to Jiyan about? He only ever spoke to the other because business warranted a conversation. He never really just…outright approached him like this. He just needed to lower the other’s guard, right? Simple enough, he guess… ❝He doesn’t converse with Aalto frequently. Just when he needs some dirt on someone for a mission he has bad vibes about. Or, in some cases, someone catches his attention…like you and Deirdre, for example.❞ He gave the other a glance, languid, but sharp all the same before he took a sip of his water. ❝But since he’s wondering about that mysterious ‘New Federation’ guy, he might do it sometime this week once the rumors settle a little.❞ This was all just a guess. Jianyu couldn’t say he knew exactly when Calcharo might do any of this. He kept that to himself, though. ❝Tch, you sure are asking for a lot, Cu. For my time, you’re going to have to pay me. Life isn’t free, and I’m still a mercenary.❞

     Any other Ghost Hound would have asked for the same thing. This was all on his time, after all. Time that he could have been out earning shell credits. ❝Once you pay me, I’ll see what I can do about Calcharo. However, he’s quick to be suspicious of anything out of the ordinary, and me bringing up Jiyan is…out of the ordinary. I’ll have to figure out something there.❞ There was no way he’d get away with bringing the general up ‘frequently’ like Cu asked. Calcharo would outright demand why he was so interested in Jiyan, and he’d have to come up with something believable. No…he believed just bringing him up only occasionally would be enough, and it had to be a certain way. ❝No idea why you’re so interested in what’s going on between our boss and the general. Not like you gain anything from all this.❞ Now cooled from the heat that had clung to him, he slipped his hair over a shoulder, setting about putting it all back into a ponytail. The gesture was nonchalant, though he was listening and waiting for Cu's response.

He nearly rolled his eyes at the senseless accusation. "I’m not the one who told you to run for no reason. Save your complaints for your boss." Except that he was certain that they would never do such thing. Calcharo went and growled at Jianyu since they couldn't growl at him, and now Yuyu was trying to do the same thing, but he refused to have any of it. Well, not that any of that mattered at the moment. They had plenty of things to do and very little time to achieve everything he had in mind. Calcharo certainly was a particular case. "What a weird man your boss turned out to be." Not that it was a bad thing, just... different, uncommon considering where the man hailed from. "In the New Federation, the only way you get others to think twice before messing with you is to attain power and connections. There are various ways to attain them, and getting to know how the mind of others work, use their feelings and emotions, and so on, is one of the quickest ones. It's not like there's anything sacred in the Lawless Zone, so if you get betrayed, then that's on you for not being sharp enough." So 'relationships' were part of work, just another tool.

"Don’t worry, I just need you to facilitate a few things for me. First, when is the next time you will be going to the Norfall Barrens? I'll need you to take a moment to talk to Jiyan. Send me an alert then so I can call him after he lowered his walls." He knew that sounded strangely cunning and ominous, but he really only had good intentions. "Second, how often does your boss and Aalto have communication? It’ll be all for nothing if Aalto talks to him." He could try and buy the broker's silence, but he honestly didn’t want to imagine how much they would want since they knew of his noble background. "Finally, I need you to casually bring up Jiyan in conversations with your boss whenever the opportunity arises." As for why he needed Jianyu to do that... The explanation will come soon enough.

“A few researchers spotted Jiyan with a New Federation man at Panhua’s weeks ago. Some time later, another group confirmed that said mystery guy was Calcharo. Apparently, they were also pretty close in Mt. Firmament.” Cú actually wasn't one to listen to gossip, but the last time he showed up at the Academy to have his weapon fixed, he saw a bunch of depressed researchers and had to deal with a particularly grumpy Mortefi. He just happened to learn about Jiyan's 'dating' life when he asked for an explanation. “But the way Calcharo talked and reacted made it clear that he doesn't know who this ‘mystery guy’ is.” Which was kind of embarrassing for someone as sharp as them. “In fact, it seemed like his brain was working overtime thinking of Jiyan’s dating life. Also, you heard him too. He was way too quick to reply on the general's behalf, almost like he was stating facts. What do you make of that?” Anyone else would be curious and prodding for information because it was Jiyan out of all people. Being so quick to deny things was... an interesting reaction. It was a minuscule slip, but Cú was drawn to it like a shark is to blood.

"It seems like it’s the first time he’s thinking of stuff like this, and stuff like this that involves our kind-hearted general. That’s why I need you to talk about Jiyan whenever the chance presents itself. And not just about work-related stuff. We want your boss to continue thinking of Jiyan outside of work."

[goldenpinof]

so basically here’s a script of “Basically I’m gay” by Daniel Howell, if someone needs it

link to a google doc

Hello Internet.

«Sex! Secrecy! And a whole lot of internal screaming. Starring Daniel Howell. One of the greatest mysteries of our generation. What is Dan’s sexuality?»

Spoiler alert. I’m not straight. Sex, the foundation of life and the only thing we’re really supposed to do. Everyone’s obsessed with it. You bunch of degenerates. In the list of things that identify a person, one of the most important for other people to know is their sexuality. For, if sex is the primal force propelling all of these humans forward by their hips, they have to know. Are we gonna fuck? Or like could we? Or are you, ‘cause I’m just wondering. Now, we live in a heteronormative world, which is a long scary word that makes people feel attacked for some reason. Shh it’s okay.

What it means is people are presumed to be straight. If you’re not, then at some point, you have to “come out”, which is a whole thing. Or people might just try and guess based on something you do or the way you act, because yay stereotypes. So this is something you have to be clear on, because if you’re not, how are all these other people that aren’t you going to cope? But I’m pretty sure no one that knows me thinks I’m straight. So I don’t really need to come out as much as just clarify what the hell is going on. As here I am at age 27 and my sexual preference is seemingly still a vague, debatable, confusing, impenetrable mystery. But why? And what is it? Well, those are some big questions. Are you sure you wanna know my answers?

[YES]

Okay, well, if you say so 'cause this is a complicated and sensitive issue and when it comes to me, boy, there is a lot to unpack here and it is a total clusterfuck. So strap yourselves in and let me tell you a queer little story about a boy named Dan.

Chapter 1 – The Word

♪ When I was a young boy ♪

♪ My father ♪

Didn’t have much time for me because my conception was clearly an accident and he was a narcissistic proud man suddenly inconvenienced in the prime of his life and this emotional neglect gave me lasting problems.

Sorry that’s not all relevant right now.

I was an only child for seven years and with working parents. This meant I had to make my own fun so I was imaginative  and loud which is something that my teachers used to say quite a lot followed by, “However.” Here I am age five. Look at me. Cute, poised, sassy, turning out this photo shoot like sorry, Grandma, I stunted on this set. Are you seeing this? In almost every way, I literally peaked age five. I loved being the center of attention. People said I had an infectious happiness, that my beaming smile brought them hope and joy. People that know me are laughing right now. But a boy, in the '90s being happy and generally polite acting? Sounds kinda GAY if you ask me. Literally, masculinity was so fragile, people were so proud and scared and society so aggressive that a boy smiling!?.. appearing to be empathetic or in any way emoting was seen as a threat. How dare they laugh and feel comfortable? They must be soft and weak and girly and GAY. So basically thanks, Grandma, for raising me to be a nice child, you dick. Just kidding. That’s a joke and I told you not to watch this video because it would be rude so if you send me a disappointed text telling me you’re offended, I don’t know what to tell you. Although, now I think about it, you did make me go to church for 10 years, which in hindsight probably also didn’t help ♪ Hallelujah ♪ the issue here so. But then it was time for little Dan to go to school and this is when it  

♪ All went wrong ♪

'Cause it turns out most children, evil pieces of shit. Doesn’t matter if you try to raise a happy innocent child, throw that kid into school, aka, a literal Mad Max Battle Royale with the feral offspring of your local community. Yeah, that crap’ll be undone in about two weeks. I was six years old running around the playground pretending to be Sonic the Hedgehog or something when two brothers come up to me aged seven and eight with an unexplained aggressive look in their eye. And the younger one pushes me to the ground, kicks me in the stomach, and just says, “GAY.”

This was the first time I ever heard that word. Well, I don’t know what the heck gay means but apparently it means people kick you on the floor so that ain’t good. I didn’t know this child or give them any cause to have an opinion on me. And, actually, I never directly interacted with them again. What epic clustershit of failed parenting and general culture brought this tiny child to get angry and attack someone, then call them gay for looking like they were having fun outside. Are you okay, 1990s? And so my relationship with sexuality began.

I wasn’t looking to define myself as a child indiscriminately playing doctors and nurses with various friends until once somebody’s mum walked into a room to find three fully naked children sat on a bed sticking sellotape to each other’s butts. Yep, which I don’t recommend. Also, Jesus Christ, the poor woman that saw that. Then you get to the magic age around 10 or 11 where everybody suddenly wants to pretend they’re totally a “cool teenager” who’s doing all the drugs and the sex and the fights, totally. Boy, gay was a really popular word back then.

[[Boy] Uh, homework is gay. [Girl] Uh, my mum’s so gay. [Boy] Uh, you touched a girl, gay.]

This one little shit who I won’t name was one of the school bullies and he loved the word gay. He had it in for me and I have no idea why. You know me, Mr. Winnie the Pooh Meets Slender Man. Well, when I was 10 just Winnie the Pooh. I didn’t do nothin’ to no one ever and yet this guy used my pacifism as a punching bag where any group situation was an excuse to single me out call me gay for some reason and then make everyone else exclude me because they were scared of him. I had a girlfriend. We dated for six whole weeks. We kissed in a game of spin the bottle once by literally sucking on each other’s faces. Then she ended dumping me over speakerphone at a birthday party that everyone in my class but me was invited to but, hey. I don’t know what I was doing wrong, but at this age, I understood one thing. Being gay, whatever that meant, was clearly the worst thing you could be. On a Darwinian level, I was being told, okay bitch, “Survival Code”. Don’t be this apparently. Evolution. Plot twist, this bully I think he was a bit gay because once he asked me to have a sleepover at his house and I thought was me finally getting socially accepted only for him in the middle of the night to come up and ask me, “So who’s going to be the boy and the girl?” I was an innocent smol bean who didn’t really understand what he meant because, to be honest, I didn’t actually understand get how babies were made yet. But needless to say I think he was disappointed. Wow, closeted child turns into homophobic bully. Thanks again society. But this whole primary school journey was really just an amuse-bouche for the full six-course tasting menu of suffering that would be secondary school.

I went to an all-boys school. It was a literal hellscape.  I thought it was hard making it through a school of 200 kids with two or three bullies. Try over a thousand where a clean 800 are fully psychopathic gorillas fueled by testosterone, Red Bull, and Eminem albums. Making sure that the word f- no longer means an innocent bundle of sticks or a cigarette anymore in the British lexicon. Nope, now it was a cool homophobic slur along with gay, gaylord, gayboy, puff, pufter, ponce, batty, batty boy, bum-boy, bender. Shit, this is so long. People have a lot of words for something they don’t wanna think about. Look at me in this stupid blazer. Oh, “you’ll grow into it at some point in the next four years”. Thanks, Mum. Day one, kid in form class, some stupid hedgehog-looking motherfucker side eyes me and says, “What you lookin at, puff?” First interaction at a new school. Great! My entire existence on a daily basis then becomes navigating this school like I’m in the bloody “Maze Runner” trying to avoid aggressive pricks with chode ties. And you know being verbally abused for being a nerd or a Greebo at least felt relevant to me at the time. Greebo, definitely one of my faves there and I’m sure that Korn and Slipknot would have been proud to have 12-year-old me as a fan. I kinda knew who I was in the hierarchy at that point. I was essentially a theater kid who spent all of his free time playing Runescape on the AOL browser on his mum’s PC instead of football. I accepted it. But at least I wasn’t actually this “gay thing” people kept throwing around because by now I understood a gay is a boy who fancies other boys. And to be honest I don’t really feel like I’ve ever fancied anyone before.

Then puberty happened.

Oh yeah, this is fun, tingly feelings, I smell bad. It was quite fun dribbling on this girl’s face playing Truth or Dare, maybe later we’ll go behind that bike sheds and, there I was sat in English class, my friend next to me. I watched as he delicately removes a pencil from its case. We briefly make eye contact as he flutters his long black eyelashes with a blink before staring forward. His eyes are so bright and beautiful yet they seem so sad and deep with emotion. I wish I could just understand. Oh fuck, I think I’m a bit gay. You’re telling me this whole time I actually have been the bad thing that people keep calling me? Shit!

Chapter 2 – Feelings

Oh do you hear it that faint hum, something coming from a deep, dark place too powerful to control? It’s the self-hatred. She is here and she’s only getting started. Short version, I fall hopelessly in love with a friend of mine who doesn’t feel the same way which crushes me into a million tiny pieces and years later actually it turns out he was gay the whole time. He just really specifically didn’t like me. [Double kill.] Here I am, 13, crying to evanescence alone in my bedroom feeling like there’s no point in really being alive as I’m clearly a faulty outcast person that has no place in the world. I stopped going to church with my grandma because I felt like I wasn’t really supposed to be there. Also, by this age, the whole Christianity thing didn’t really make much sense to me. And the adult services were dry AF compared to coloring in a picture of Jesus’s face at Sunday school. So other than the free tea and biscuits they gave away after the sermon, religion didn’t really have much to offer me. Damn, there was some good biscuits though. I miss that. But wait! All is not lost yet. Do you see that? A triumphant, rallying cry of guitars, stripey hoodies, and black hair dye. Emo had arrived! I swear to God, emo is one of the best things that happened to pop culture in the last 20 years. As well as inventing eyeliner and skinny jeans, a new word hit the theater, nerd, goth, band, kid corner that would change my world forever.

Bisexual. You can be normal and gay at the same time and some people think it’s cool? Well, slap a long fingerless glove on my arm and sign me up to Myspace 'cause Mum, I’m bi. It was a good term 'cause it was a catchall for anyone who felt sexually confused or curious that didn’t want to commit to something stronger which is very me. Big commitment issues. Thanks, fam. To be clear, regardless of whatever the 2006 teenagers thoughts and feelings were, being bi is valid and should not be excused away or erased by anyone. Thank you.

From this moment, I was a loud and proud raving bi to my close friends and the strangers on the internet who saw my clearly-labeled sexual preference on my Myspace page. And the emo friends I made at this time were awesome. We just used to hang and make out with each other and listen to music and drink bottles of Smirnoff Ice until we were sick on each other with no judgment. The judgment came several years later looking back at the photos that you can’t delete. So I didn’t need to tell my family or people at school anything. But the thing is with a Myspace page, anyone with an internet connection can read it. And so the rumors started spreading through my neighborhood that Dan Howell was in fact a bisexual. I had a friend in French class who one day, totally unprompted, just turned to me and said, “Hmm, yeah, I thought so. You give off a bi-vibe.” A bi-vi-, what the fuck is a bi-vibe? Great, yeah, nothing to make a 15-year-old feel self-conscious about his behavior like being told he emanates a bisexual aura. What am I supposed to do with that? Sorry that I give off mixed signals. I’m versatile. Turns out it was actually a social upgrade from being called gay all the time 'cause bisexual was a new word that only referred to sexuality so people actually had to decide how they felt about the fact I was attracted to boys. As opposed to gay which as we all understand is synonymous with bad and also implies a general threat, plague, curse/evil force that simply must be destroyed. People at school were actually almost nice to me with curiosity about it and a few of the boys that previously loved to just generically call me gay while throwing a compasses at me or something, now started to low-key flirt with me and some stuff happened. Go figure.

But then I entered the dark ages and no I’m not talking about my hair because I was never actually cool enough to commit to dying it black. As quickly as they arrived into my life, my emo friend group vanished into the night. Like the tip of an eyeliner pencil snapping or the HTML on your intricately-crafted MySpace page falling apart when the host websites of your embedded gifs die, so, too, did my social life. One had to suddenly focus on school, another moved town, two of them just fell out with each other and started hanging out with their old friends again. Well, we don’t all have back up friend groups, Lindsey! I went all in on the emos! You’re telling me I have to go back to sitting in my kitchen playing Runescape now! Thanks a lot. So for a year I literally had no friends. And this is when the bullying at school really stepped its pussy up. The things people used to say offhand to me in a corridor were now said loudly in classrooms where everybody would laugh. People used to sing songs about me being gay on the bus while my fellow nerds sat around me just stared awkwardly out of the window not wanting to get involved. People shouted things out during GCSE exams in front of the whole school and the low key pushing became punches. People used to wait for me after school just to throw things at me. Once a guy put his hand around my throat and pushed my head against a coat peg in the locker room while everyone was watching and just slapped me for five minutes. But I never reacted. I never cried or got angry or fought back 'cause then I’d be giving them what they wanted and I refused to play along. But this way of dealing with things definitely had an impact on my relationship with emotion going into life. I became a total outcast. No one wanted to come near me out of fear that they’d get targeted, too. So no one ever stood up for me. And, you know, I don’t blame them. I just resent them even to this day. No, I’m kidding, I don’t really. I do. No, I don’t. I, hmm. Teachers at the time obviously did nothing. In fact, one of them saw this happening to me and laughed 'cause you know, boys will be boys especially the gay ones that get killed by the other ones, am I right? Ah, classic lad banter. And home. See, keeping this on the topic of sexuality and not economic class, violence, addiction, and health issues, let’s just say some shit was goin’ down. I didn’t think I could ask my family for help or share my feelings about this, mainly due to my dad. Funny guy, kind of a woke hippie who did and said a lot of things I did respect but at the same time used to walk around the house saying how he hoped someone he had a problem with at work would *clears throat* “die of bum cancer.” Yep, so picked the one area to be a bigot that would further traumatize your child. Nice! This experience coming from a childhood hearing the word gay meaninglessly thrown around as an insult at home and school, in music, on TV, to then realizing I am actually kinda gay, to then very specifically being attacked for it was traumatic. The world was clearly telling me if I ever wanted to be accepted by anyone or, in my particular environment, survive, I couldn’t be gay. I was afraid of it, literally homophobic of myself. I am talking Pavlov, sunken place, North Korea-level mind alteration that made me terrified of and repulsed by this part of me. This is called internalized oppression. It’s a real thing and it’s some real shit.

Chapter 3 – Internalized Oppression

From this moment I was no longer advertising myself as bi. No, BRB deleting that Myspace real quick, xD lemme get on that Bebo. “My Chemical Romance”? No, I’m listen to what’s this, N-Dubz? Jesus Christ. I go away for the summer break and come back to school quiet and serious and fully straight. *coughs* I needed me some new friends that were a bit higher up the social ladder, you know what I’m sayin’ for security so I go ahead and join “The Inbetweeners”. Literally this group of friends, the exact middle ground between nerds and desperately wanting to be cool. And oh how desperate we were. The great thing about these friends was they knew loads of girls. So firstly, instant cool points. Secondly, if I date a girl *scoffs* super not gay. The problem with that was it’s not like everyone just forgot everything that’s been said about me and this group of friends, casually homophobic pretty much all the time and also they hung out in places near some even more aggressive and super homophobic peeps. Just full-time Runescape would have been a better in hindsight. I find myself going through the same shit at school but now voluntarily going through it at the weekends from the people that are supposed to be my friends thinking I’m doing the right thing whilst constantly telling myself I’m now totally heterosexual. So I did what many people choose to do at that point and I got a girlfriend. But this is pretty messed up because I really liked this girl. In fact, I loved her as a friend and I was genuinely attracted to her but I was so afraid of sexuality I didn’t even wanna do anything straight in case I had some weird gay panic that I was totally frigid and I led her on. And when she got pissed at me, understandably, for being a terrible boyfriend, I just felt even worse. This was someone who I liked that I was hurting and lying to but I couldn’t leave as then I’d have no armor. Beautiful irony here is having a girlfriend didn’t in any way stop the abuse 'cause remember, gay is a great all-purpose general insult. (Call someone gay today and we’ll throw in a free set of steak knives.) And when these neighborhood teens started heavy drinking and getting into drugs, things suddenly got quite scary as people joked about setting fire to a tent as I slept in it at Reading Festival. Or saying, “You know that notoriously unstable guy? Yeah, he said he’s gonna kill you next Saturday.” Awkward.

This was definitely the lowest point in my life. I just felt totally alone, confused and I deeply hated myself. I used to ask God, in case he was there, to please, just make me straight and everyone stop. But I saw no end, no escape, no way to change the world or who I was. So one evening I thought fuck it and I attempted suicide.

I say attempted, because just before it was too late I thought

“oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit what have i done what have i done fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck?”

“what will your grandma think don’t do this to her she tried her best and she loves you”

“your family aren’t total dicks and this will fuck them up can’t you just get over it surely”

“you’re gonna get to the last year of school and give up now really what was the point”

“I heard this is one of the most painful ways to die so not a great choice if I’m being blunt”

Felt kinda bad for a few days otherwise I pretended it never happened and I didn’t tell anyone, until now, literally. Hmm, I know pretty dark right, but hey spoiler things kinda worked out. I mean still gotta lot of issues but here I am. I’m so glad I failed for so many reasons, for the people in my life, for the future I would’ve wasted. The most important being that I thought I was trapped in a situation forever when in reality, the entire world I lived in and my life changed completely. I thought it was hopeless when in reality there was so much to hope for and that’s it. Time changes everything. With the lives that we have, we can try anything we’ve dreamed of. I want anyone that’s ever felt like this to realize you are never trapped. There is always hope. You just need to believe in yourself and get to the other side. So yeah school age 6 to 18, I’m gonna give that a bad Google review. The thing is I did stand out. I’ve always been a loudmouth, class clown, annoying shit. Since graduating, it turns out half the people I knew were fuckin’ gay. That group of friends I had, all lovely people now. Five of them were gay, five gays! That is statistically irregular. Oh but they flew under the radar. All I’m saying is I wish people just hated me for being annoying and immature. Leave the gays alone!

My light at the end of the tunnel was university. I was gonna get my A levels move to a new town and ghost these bitches. But I took a gap year first to earn some money which was very boring sitting at home and working at ASDA where I was not happy to help. My shift started at 5 a.m. on a Saturday. Signed up for a Twitter account to run my mouth off and then bam. “So my name is [Dan].” My YouTube story begins, a new chapter of my life to redefine. So you know what I do? Get a Formspring because nothing gives you that attention feeling like one of those anonymous question and answer websites that are inherently toxic and no one should use. And straight out of the bat bisexual Dan returns. 'Cause hey, just like Myspace, I’m only telling a few people on the internet right now. It’s not like one day I’m gonna get so many followers that random strangers and my family might see it. Wow, I had a lot fun with many different kinds of people in 2009. Let’s just say I got a lot out of my system. Got a couple of things in my system, too. Sorry.

And this is when, through the magic of the internet, I met Phil. And obviously we were more than friends but it was more than just romantic. This is someone that genuinely liked me. I trusted them. And for the first time since I was a tiny child, I actually felt safe. And the relationship we formed at that point was something that I needed in my life. We are real best friends, companions through life, like actual soulmates, not that souls are a real thing that exist. It’s so lucky to just find someone you can be that compatible with and especially to anyone that has experienced the kind of self-hatred that I have dealt with, one person accepting you can make all the difference. And I bet so many people wanna know so much more about that which, honestly, I take as a compliment. But here’s the thing. I’m somebody that wants to keep the details of my personal life private. So is Phil. I know lots of people these days, thanks to social media, want to share and monetize every aspect of their life and then as soon as something changes suddenly it’s this huge drama because everybody got invested in the story of your life like it’s a soap opera. I don’t want that. I wanna do certain things without an audience. I wanna be spontaneous. I don’t wanna feel afraid to take risks. I want to enjoy totally fucking something up and not have to post a statement about it. And if anyone thinks people really have to share these things about their life, you need to rethink your position. And look, I understand that sex is a fun and interesting thing to talk about. I get it. I am also a disgusting pervert. But the specific minutiae of who I be fuckin’, when, why, where, how long, how, uhh, I mean? Sexuality is a general fact that it can be very useful to know about a person for several reasons, but we can’t force people to disclose that either. We don’t know this person’s life story, what they’ve been through, if they haven’t told people, if they’ll lose their job, if they’re in danger. There are so many reasons someone might not be open about it. We can preach the message that being out is good, but aggressively speculating or trying to out someone is really bad. They might not be gay, in which case we’re just harassing someone and probably stereotyping. And if they are there’s gonna be a reason why they haven’t talked about it. So I don’t wanna see any responses to me finally talking about this like no one is surprised. “Dan we been knew.” Wow, you huge galaxy brain genius. What’s it like walking around with all those brain cells in there working overtime? What, you got like three in there? Don’t lose your balance, mastermind. I haven’t exactly been subtle have I? I’m an awkward, sexually ambiguous nerd. “What the fuck even is your sexuality?” That’s not the point. I’m already dead inside so it doesn’t matter here, but to me if someone’s reaction to a person coming out is just, “yeah, I knew”, they’re showing no empathy towards the issue or that person. They’re just making it about themselves like it was a fun piece of gossip they already knew. All we have to do is listen and be accepting.

So anyway back to the tale. Whilst things were looking up for Dan aged 18, things quickly got messy again. Wow, that beats the emo streak of temporary self-acceptance by like six months, nice. There was a point around 2011 where the relationship with my audience shifted from what felt like direct communication between me and individuals that just saw me as a comedy creator to communities of people that formed to talk about me when I wasn’t there. Which is fine, but for some people it was about getting generally invested in me and my real life which I thought was a bit strange 'cause inevitably like anyone who puts themself out there, some people started to really dig into my private life to find out information about me that I wasn’t ready to share. And this was around the same time that YouTubers finally started to get mainstream recognition in the British press. We had the BBC knocking at our door trying to offer Dan and Phil a radio show. From that, Dan and Phil became this entertainment duo that we could have a creative career with. And we love working together, so when all these opportunities came for Dan and Phil, we were really excited but I was also scared as people clearly knew I wasn’t straight and I hadn’t told my family that. None of my old friends knew about this, and what me and Phil had was ours and personal and yet some people were trying to get access to it for their own satisfaction. It was no longer a few people on the internet, no big deal. So I just shut down. It felt like I was back at school again, surrounded by threatening people trying to expose me for their entertainment. Most I’m sure just wanted what was best for me and I feel such genuine sadness and am sorry that I couldn’t be closer to and more truthful with the people in my life that were just trying to be nice but I wasn’t ready to deal with it at this time so I had to do something to contain it. I definitely sent some mixed messages. Some were just joking around, others were super defensive that in my panic came across like “I’m now telling everyone I’m totally straight” when all I really meant was “please fuck off and don’t invade my privacy, you creepy stalkers, thank you”. But this experience seriously triggered some PTSD in me and I was back in the dark place. I didn’t want to just disappear from the internet to escape it and throw away this creative hobby that actually started paying rent. Thanks. So I just decided to put anything to do with my sexuality in a box to come back to later as I was still processing my past and I wanted to understand my identity on my own terms and timeline and not just have it hijacked as fuel for people’s sexual fantasies or some headline in an article. And whilst we’re not exactly living in a utopia yet here on YouTube, the general internet culture only five or six years ago was a much less wholesome, progressive place as this little bubble is now. Sure, a lot of people probably would have been supportive, but there was just as much open bigotry and general toxicity 'cause people felt less accountable and it was okay to say certain things 'cause it’s just on the internet and I couldn’t handle that at the time. And, generally, I can handle a lot. I have big hands with a very wide reach for playing piano, you fucking.. get your mind out of the gutter. We can’t ask people to just put their lives on hold to address their sexuality first. If a kid dreams of being a footballer and age 18 gets signed to a club and all their dreams come true but they’re scared to come out because of the insane homophobia in that community, they shouldn’t turn it down. Yes, it’s so important to be truthful about who you are and open and proud in front of the world but it’s our society’s fault that these people are scared to say who they are. So let’s all focus on making it a welcoming place and people will come out when they are ready. So when was I ready? Well, it’s always been on my mind that I need to talk about this at some point. I couldn’t just keep going forward in my life ignoring it, not only just so I can be authentic, which is very important for general existing, but also just letting people know what kind of sexual attention I want from the world. All of it from everyone. God I’m so thirsty. And if anything motivated me, it’s the idea that I can help someone else 'cause that’s basically my whole career, isn’t it, admitting to shit that I’ve been through so you will feel better about yourselves. There we go, you’re welcome. I have a platform and a following of millions of people, many of whom I know have been through exactly what I have. And if I tell my story as painful and flip floppy and flawed as it is, I know it will mean something to someone as every time someone speaks openly about sexuality, it saves lives. I’d never met a single out gay person until I was 18. And if I had, or even just seen better representation in the media, I wouldn’t have felt so totally alone. I wouldn’t even be saying this to you now if it wasn’t for TV shows, musicians, and public figures in the last couple years reinforcing this to me. It doesn’t matter if I was living the life privately as there was still so much confusion about my feelings and fear. But things are better now, on the internet, on TV, in my real life. It’s not perfect but it feels safe enough in this space right now for me to feel confident. So thank you, sincerely, to all the brave people that came before me and to any of you that made this world seem welcoming for me. And instead of procrastinating from this by focusing on work, which was a way for me to insure my own independence and survival in case I was rejected, or just doing things for other people to take my mind off it instead of asserting my own needs, which my therapist keeps telling me is one of my biggest problems. Here I am with a fresh void of time in front of me to fuck up however I want. Now look, we all have different experiences in life. Some of us are lucky, some of us not. It just so happened that the first 18 years of my life were horrendously shit. It failed me. But we get dealt cards from the start, too. If you look at my life, I was born into this world as an able-bodied, white, cis-man in Britain which immediately gives me so much privilege in this current world and I am fully aware of how much harder making it to today could have been for me, which is why we all need to stand up for equality and social justice even if it doesn’t apply to us. No one stood up for me when it mattered the most and that almost cost me everything. So if you see a woman being harassed, a gay being threatened, someone muttering something racist, say something, do something because if you’re still or silent, the victim will just think that you are against them, too. We all have a responsibility.

This tale was just some of the stuff relating to sexuality. We all have a whole sob story if we wanna tell it but I just wanted to explain the journey of how I got to this point and overcame the obstacles that tried to block this path. And now I’ve arrived.

Chapter 4 – Labels

Okay cool story, bro, it’s answer time. What’s your answer. Whaddayalikedafuk? Here’s the thing, you want me to talk candidly about sexuality as if it’s something that I understand? I don’t know what it is, why it is. Turns out no one knows. I’ve been sitting here for years waiting for scientists to just work it out like bleep bloop. [Oh this is why and exactly how it’s different for people. There we go.] Thinking I shouldn’t run off my mouth on the internet in case my theories and opinions on varying gayness get debunked next week. Well, I waited long enough and it didn’t happen. Science, ya fucked up, you let me down. And I fully expect to have to delete this video in two weeks when you find out all the answers suddenly. Thanks a bunch. What makes someone gay or straight or all the things in between? What the ever loving fuck is gender about? This is a mess. Yet people want you to give them a word because that’s how humans communicate with words that have meanings. Which is why our disgusting species is impatient, stupid, and obsessed with labels. And this applies to everything, sexuality, gender, political identity, what obscure genre of synthwave you listen to. People just want a label that represents something they understand so they already know how to feel about you and don’t have to bother thinking. [Oh you’re a feminist well I don’t need to know anything more. Oh you’re a leftist. Oh you’re a K-pop fan but but but but.] If people just want to find a way to disagree with you or dislike you, they can refer to the label and turn off their brains. Hey, what does my label say? Huh. The issue is, especially when we start talking about the writhing mass of confusion and suffering that is sexual and gender identity, the limits of language and specific terminology become a big problem. What does being gay mean? You never thought about a boob once? What does being a man mean? You wanna be an emotionless rock rubbing raw steaks against your biceps? It’s not like humanity is all in agreement right now. I don’t like the stereotypes and drama that come with all this terminology so I’m just not gonna use it. Thing is gender identity isn’t my issue. I feel comfortable with the identity that I’ve had my whole life. Dan, a tol boy from England. But being a man means nothing to me. I wouldn’t feel uncomfortable wearing makeup or a sickening pair of heels, though I can’t even draw in a straight line so that would be a disaster. Also is anyone really comfortable wearing heels? Hmm. Icons of masculinity aren’t really a big part of my life. Might as well call me a fucking formless blob that sounds more relatable. Shout out to all my formless blobs out there, rise up. I don’t have to do anything or be anything and I personally wouldn’t feel offended if I wasn’t referred to as a he. Well, she’s feeling hungry today. Stop fucking judging me, Susan. I’m sad and I’m gonna eat this whole damn cake whether you like it or not. But anyone that has this don’t really care attitude about their gender identity is in a way privileged 'cause some people, especially trans, care a lot about their gender identity and using the correct pronouns which other people should respect. Likewise with sexuality, whilst to me the endlessly increasing list of tribes and flags being flown is a bit daunting and confusing and personally stresses me out 'cause I almost find it constrictive, some people like it. Because if you’re feelings are confusing and then you look at a word that represents something and go, “wow, that me”, it can help you realize you’re valid and find a community and that’s great. There is so much controversy around this issue and others but if we all just calm down, respect each other’s experiences and try to just be nice, reasonable people, which is a lot to ask, let’s be real, it’s quite simple. If you wanna use language to express your honest feelings and identity, that’s great and other people should respect what you say. Likewise, if you hate labels and you just wanna be a formless blob, that’s fine, too. No one should force you. The only thing that isn’t cool is telling other people what they should or should not identify as 'cause that ain’t your problem or your business, bye. This was one of the things that held me back from talking about this for years. Shit’s confusing, man. Let’s just go back to cellular reproduction by mitosis so I don’t really have to be specific. Two people that I really look up to and respect, Harry Styles and Janelle Monae, both famously say that they don’t feel the need to label it which, to be honest, is how I feel and is perfectly okay. But I get it, for me, you want a word. Oh, that’s hard, though. I’m an annoying guy. I feel uncertain specifying my sexuality in the same way I wouldn’t say I am an atheist. Who the fuck am I to say whether God does or doesn’t exist? I don’t know shit 'bout shit and neither does anyone else. I mean I think it’s unlikely in the same way I know I like DICK. But I’m not gonna pretend to have a definite answer here. Looking at my public statements is inconsistent and confusing. Looking at my personal track record through life is super confusing. And looking at the void inside my soul threatening to crush the entire universe with the force of its event horizon of misery and melodrama, well, fuck let’s close that shit up. One thing’s for sure whatever heterosexual is, I ain’t it. Really if you ask me, I don’t think anyone’s totally straight. I think there’s a lot of social and emotional issues getting in the way of yet to be understood feelings of attraction that can be very flexible. And trust me, I’ve known a lot of straight guys until a couple of drinks, some deep conversation, and lingering eye contact, and suddenly they just start leaning in. What does that make them? And am I totally gay? No. Am I slightly more gay or is it just easier for gays to hook up with each other because of societal norms. It’s not like the signs for male and female bathrooms are what I’m attracted to. I don’t care what flesh organ you have between your legs, what your hair’s like, if you’re covered in it or a fuckin’ beluga whale. I’m gonna be honest, I’m not picky. I’m easy. So am I bi or pan or poly? Well, now we’re just in a clusterfuck of defining language and I’m confused and sad and horny. This is why I personally love the word queer. I understand that some people don’t as it is a slur but as someone that’s been the target of it several times throughout my life I’m up for some reclamation. It’s like recycling. The definition makes sense because until society is equal with all sexual and gender identifies, it is literally strange from a conventional viewpoint plus it’s better than a super long acronym, it’s inclusive of everyone and therefore great for formless blobs. There we go, an identity I feel comfortable with. A highly-strung, depressed queer praying for a giant meteor to hurry up and finally eradicate humanity. LMAO, yeet!

But to come full circle, I know that even today, deep in my heart the word gay scares me because that’s how I’ve been conditioned my whole life. So, you know what? Fuck the literal definition and the scientific definition and what everyone thinks. I finally have to just confront and accept this.

I’m gay.

Oh look, didn’t spontaneously fucking combust. Well, there we go, that was a lot of stress about nothing, wasn’t it? Bloody hell. So yup, I’m here, I’m queer, and don’t worry I’m still filled with existential fear.

WE’RE HERE, WE’RE QUEER WE’RE FILLED WITH EXISTENTIAL FEAR.

Chapter 5 – Fear

Even though I’m at this current place, there is still so much I’m afraid of and this has taken months to make because of that. Telling my family was a big fear. I have problems connecting with them emotionally because reasons. So I only came out to them this month and if it didn’t go well, as I’m now the independent adult that I fought so hard to be, I was ready to cut them off like the bottom of a sweater turning into a seasonal crop. But I didn’t have to, love you. I didn’t think they’d reject me these days but coming out is still a surprise. It changes things. And I’m a pretty awkward person generally but the idea of just dropping this in conversation in front of them all terrified me. And I tried several times this year to do it but I just couldn’t. So you know how I finally came out to my family? E-mail. Yep, I literally just sent them an e-mail saying and I quote,

“Hello gang. I’ve been meaning to talk to you all for a while, something quite important that should be disclosed at some point. I thought I would around Christmas, then Mum’s birthday, then last Easter Sunday, etc., but every time I meant to, I either felt like I would ruin the mood of the day or I just felt awkward and didn’t want to. So I decided just to email you all instead which is really inappropriate and just weird but that somehow seems appropriate for me and at least I’ll just finally say it.

Basically I’m gay.”

Yup. It was just getting ridiculous so I thought screw it and hey, it worked. Turns out my remaining family, pretty chill bunch of people. Even my Christian grandma said this,

“We love you for being you. It must be a great relief to finally acknowledge who you are. Popsie and I just want you to be happy. People are born as they are and have no say in it. I hope that now you will feel free to live your life as you want with no pretense.”

Aw.

“Don’t forget the iPad.”

Yes, I said I’d give her my old iPad. She mainly cares about that I thing. Wasn’t so sure when I was 17 but it went well now and I know that makes me lucky but, hey, it shows that times change. As for the other people in my life, obviously all the friends I have now are cool. If anyone in my life I’ve ever known isn’t cool with it then I don’t care. And sure here online there might be a few incredibly lost bigots following me or just some classic trolls who I think should get fucked. No, like literally, I think you should try it. You’ll probably enjoy it and you might learn something about yourself. Inevitably some of you watching this might have a weird reaction if you just feel like it was a shock or you feel hurt that I kept it from you. But I feel like I explained myself reasonably here and going forward I can’t have any space for that, sorry. I’ve come to terms with who I am and now you have to, too, ha. Funnily enough straight up homophobia is probably the one thing I’m not that afraid of, because I just don’t agree so it doesn’t hold much emotional power over me but you bet I’m opening myself up to all new kinds of in real life and international discrimination now which is fun. But one of the other big fears holding me back was, honestly, that I wouldn’t be accepted by the community. I know that it’s a big pride flag covering a lot of ground and even the idea of it and certainly most of it is amazing. But there is a lot of drama within it right now especially on the internet. You’ve got Grindr gays arguing about how manly gays should be, bi’s getting ignored, trans people, especially of color, not being historically appreciated, acephobia, fucking SWERFs and TERFs. No thank you. So even though they are my people, I know some of them will have problems with something. And even then, just seeing such a loud and proud, strong and opinionated group of people celebrating something just intimidates a smol introvert such as myself. And in my mind if these people don’t accept me because I’m not being definitive enough or I took too long then I almost feel like I’ll be alone all over again, and this is a fear that a lot of people have honestly. But I’m a nice guy and I’m trying my best so you better be welcoming, you bunch of fuckin’ queers. And obviously with the topic of sexuality, it doesn’t matter where we are or how far you think we’ve come, by merely mentioning it, I will be opening up a primordial box of bullshit which will include every single stupid argument and question since the dawn of time. [It’s not natural.] There’s gay animals. [Adam and Steve.] That’s based on a story and the protagonist that arrives later probably doesn’t agree with you. [Why can’t we have straight pride?] I could spend 10 hours on all the classic crap and people would still be asking the same things. This being posted on the internet, my hopes are so incredibly low, lower than my self-esteem.  Wow, that is unhealthy. I need to stop doing that. This video is about internalized oppression and the problems of language. I’m not here to pontificate on every topic tangentially related to the entire concept of gayness. *ASMR voice*: Pontificate on every topic tangentially related to the concept of gayness.  

There’s other humans and all the time in the world left for that. The time in the world coincidentally being not much longer. Climate change LMAO. But I had to tell my story so people would understand me and these things. Why coming out is still a big deal because queer people are often invisible and suffering until they have to do it. Some people grow up in supportive environments and it’s a positive experience. But more likely, especially around the world outside of the big cities, it isn’t. This is not a fight that is anywhere near over. Even in Britain today people are debating whether children should be taught to be accepting of sexual and gender identity in school.

Queer people exist. Choosing not to accept them is not an option.

To anyone watching this that isn’t out, it’s okay. You’re okay. You were born this way, it’s right, and anyone that has a problem with it is wrong. Based on your circumstance, you might not feel ready to tell people yet or that it’s safe and that’s fine, too. Just know that living your truth, with pride, is the way to be happy. You are valid. It gets so much better. And the future is clear. It’s pretty queer.

So there we go. Now I can proceed authentically in my life with full disclosure. Cute mutuals know to slide into the DMs. And you can all fuck off and leave me alone.

Bye.

[galactic-magick]

Can you please write about 001 reaction when Reader hugs him for the first time? Something like Peter tells them his life story and to his surprise they hug him instead of running away from him. Thanks. :)

This one I wrote as more of a short fic instead of headcanons, it seemed to flow better as a fic so hopefully you like!

Have a request? Read this!

Peter doesn't tell a lot of people about his past who doesn't already know.

Correction, he hasn't told anyone.

It's not that he believes what he did was wrong, but he realizes that his actions would be frowned upon by the majority of society, including you.

And he can't have that.

You're the one person in his life he doesn't ever want to disappoint. The one person he doesn't want to be afraid of him. So he hides, he lies, and refuses to tell you the real reason he's in this awful lab.

But you're smart enough to know something's going on, and as the two of you get closer, it becomes more apparent. He never talks about his family, where he came from, his life before working at the lab. You realize you know almost nothing about this man besides how he acts right now in the present.

You don't want to push him too hard, but your curiosity grows stronger when you overhear a conversation with him and Dr. Brenner.

"I've done everything you've asked of me, why won't you let me go and be free from this place?" you hear Peter demand.

"You're too unstable and dangerous to ever leave here. You'll continue to do as you're told and work with the children," Dr. Brenner replies. "You're lucky we even kept you alive after all you've done,"

"You are no better than the people out there, you understand that?" Peter's voice elevates. "Restricting the freedom of people who are different and powerful because you're afraid--terrified your system will come crumbling down like it deserves-"

You hear a loud thump. Did Brenner hit him?

"If you don't stay in your place, we will kill you, is that clear? We have enough other children now to compensate your loss,"

A brief silence.

"You are dismissed, Mr. Ballard. Tread carefully,"

You quickly run back down the hall so it doesn't look like you heard anything, but you weren't fast enough. Peter calls your name after you as he walks out the door.

“Hmm?” you smile.

“How much did you hear?”

You freeze, “Nothing. I mean, a little bit. I don’t know what you were talking about though. I won’t say anything-”

He closes the distance between you, placing his hands on your shoulders, “I’m not mad at you for overhearing. It’s not like we were being quiet,”

“You’re not?”

“No,” he says with the sweetest smile. “Come on, I think it’s about time I explain everything to you,”

He takes your hand and leads you to his room. You sit down on the edge of the bed and look up at him with worry.

“Have you ever wondered what inspired this place? Why Dr. Brenner is so interested in children with powers?” he asks.

“Oh. Well, I guess so. I didn’t really know what I was signing up for when I was hired here, but I assumed I’m here to help gifted children learn how to use their abilities,”

“I’m afraid it’s not that simple,” he shakes his head. “All of these children’s powers had to be modeled after someone, someone who had these powers naturally,”

“What do you mean?”

He slowly lifts up his sleeve, displaying his “001″ tattoo.

“Holy shit...” you whisper.

“My mother had told him I was a strange and troubled child, although he didn’t know the true extent of my power, and neither did I,”

You listen intently without interruption as he tells you about his childhood, his frustration with the world, and how much he hated his family. He explains how he learned how to use his powers, and how he almost died using them to their full capacity when he murdered them. You learn about all Dr. Brenner has done to him since being here, abusing him and in turn abusing the other children with experiments and intense training in hopes the powers will be replicated. He explains how Dr. Brenner feared him enough that he put a power inhibitor in his neck, and is now forced to work as an orderly, trapped here forever.

There’s a bit of silence after that, and Peter starts to worry. Of course you’ll never want to be near him again after knowing everything. Pretty soon you’ll process everything you just heard and run away, terrified of the monster everybody else thinks he is.

He starts accepting it now, bracing himself for the inevitable terror that will erupt from you at any moment.

But he doesn’t read any terror in your face. None at all. Instead, he watches as you get up from your seat, step over to him and wrap your arms tightly around him.

Your warmth invades his body, his long-lost and frigid soul melting for the first time he can remember.

He slowly returns your embrace, holding you back as tight as you’re holding him.

“You’re not...afraid?” he asks.

“Never of you,” you shake your head, hugging him once again.