#how did someone so sweet and normal end up with the most unhinged of the mafia brothers
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chaos0pikachu · 2 years ago
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kinnporsche saw the popularity of brat tamers in BL and went “what if instead we gave y’all a Kim tamer instead?” and thus Porchay was born
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wannaeatramyeon · 2 months ago
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Meeting Student!Gun Park for the First Time: Part 2
Please read Part 1 first! G/N. 4.6k. Remember when Gun wanted to get his GED? Well. Stranger to~ Masterlists
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As far as first impressions go, yours went terribly. Gun can count on no hands the amount of people that have spoken to him like you did and lived to tell the tale.
Make no mistake, the sum total of which is zero. Zero spoke to him like that and lived to tell the tale.
It's like you have no manners and absolutely no sense of self-preservation.
But, he figures, he's finally doing his GED after the whole murderous stint and juvie and light dabbling in gang wars. Maiming a fellow classmate on the first day would leave an even worse first impression with the rest of the class than yours with him, therefore he should really try to behave himself.
Besides, he would never hear the end of it from Goo if he dropped out, or worse got kicked out, so he picked his battles and took your insults as best he could. 
Somehow miraculously managed to hold back from reaching across the screen to give you a well deserved ass whooping when you asked him if he was on the verge of a mid-life crisis. He schooled his face and took a drag of his cigarette instead.
At least, if nothing else, you're entertaining.
You also reminded him that small talk was a thing when you asked what he liked to do for fun. He couldn't remember the last time anyone asked, if anyone even did, although you don't really make this sort of conversation in his line of work and it is hard for Gun to find time to make chit chat with someone as he's usually the one brutally assaulting them in a fight.
And he had such good intentions with enrolling in school again so why not tell you he likes gaming. 
That's a perfectly Normal hobby, right? 
Even as he says those words, they stick in his throat like he's confessing something shameful and it comes out strangled and strange.
He moves on to more familiar territory by reframing his bloodlust as training and martial arts, which also sounds very Normal to Gun's ears.
A few more things that he can barely remember are mentioned to present himself as a very Normal individual and he isn't embarrassed to admit to himself he's pleased with how this has gone.
After all, the majority of his working day is spent with Goo and Goo is, to put it politely, an unhinged dipshit, and their conversations usually also have that kind of vibe. Gun is aware enough to watch his tongue in this conversation with you, and the fact you haven't looked terrified or called the police can only work in his favour.
What piqued his curiosity most of all though, is your threat to kick his ass.
(On Tekken, but still.)
So much confidence in your own ability, so much faith in your skills.
(On Tekken, but still.)
Alas, that night he finds out it's misplaced and you have severely overestimated himself and/or underestimated him.
But still. 
He remains curious about you.
You show absolutely no fear, no ulterior motive, no nothing, in the way you speak to him and seem to have latched on to him rather than anyone else in the class, and Gun is... 
Charmed.
He finds you oddly endearing.
Then when he sees the back of your head as he makes his way into the classroom for the first time and decides to sit next to you, the way you blatantly check him out doesn't hurt either.
People ogling Gun isn't anything new, but what is new is how much he likes it from you.
He makes up his mind to keep his seat next to you. Even if your gaze does linger a moment too long on his hair and makes him wonder if he used enough gel on it when he styled it that morning.
And although you caught him doodling and insult his masterpieces repeatedly - you also balanced it out by helping him with Literature, which truth be told, he is extremely grateful for. He forgives your missteps and your teasing.
Over time, Gun finds that he likes your company. Traits that would be annoying as shit with other people he finds sweet with you, including your unrefined taste in coffee.
As a bonus, you also don't balk at the tidbits of his life he shares. In fact it should really be a little troubling how grey your morals are, how easily you take it in stride for someone that seems like a normal well-adjusted(ish) civilian.
All in all, this never happens. Ever.
Never has anyone held his attention like you do, and for him to test the waters like he has done.
Gun likes to think he has good judgement, takes very calculated risks. This, he decides, is worth pursuing. Exploring.
With not so much a leap of faith but maybe just a tiny hop, Gun opens up his home to you.
.
.
.
.
You think you're in love with Gun Park.
This realisation hits you at 5am, when you're lying in his bed and he has done the gentlemanly thing of taking the sofa. It hits you because only a few hours ago, he had pulled you into his lap, looked at you and held you so tenderly then didn't kiss you.
The fact that he hadn't kissed you, and you're in love with a very questionable person sends you into a mental crisis.
Fuck.
He's secretive enough, letting you in on various elements of his life and you manage to piece together that he can only be up to no good.
There's no shades of grey in his life, only copious amounts of crimson from bloodshed, and a twisted sense of morals and principles he lives by.
You know by now he hangs around far too much with someone called Goo, who sounds like the personification of a headache and annoys him to no end but also seems to be the only friend he has. Speaks too highly of a Charles that you know is shady despite never having met the guy. There's also an Eli that he mentions like he's the one that got away.
You can live with all of that and the questionable amount of hair product he uses.
What you are in fact struggling to get to grips with is:
This man lives in a junkyard. Like some kind of violent, sexy raccoon.
A voice in your head that sounds scarily like your mother, lectures you about prospects and picking a man with no future.
Well, for one - he's back in school.
See mom, you're wrong.
He also seems to do very well for himself despite literally living amongst trash (you handwave away his blood money and unscrupulous methods to earn said money) so that's another point for Gun.
And what sort of person, who lives between piles of scrap metal and discarded appliances, has such a luxurious bed.
You're sure the bedding thread count is in the thousands. Instead of researching the cure to cancer or how to travel faster than light, scientists have researched the comfiest mattress known to man and has created this that you're currently lying on.
So maybe this violent sexy raccoon is actually a prize.
Regardless.
You seem to have hitched yourself quite willingly to this wagon and now your biggest issue, that leaves you tossing and turning into the early hours of the morning, is still-
Why the fuck didn't he kiss you.
And how could he, after sharing such a sweet moment, push you off his lap and kick your ass on Tekken for 5 straight rounds.
What a bastard.
.
.
At some point you must have drifted off to sleep and you awake to the smell of deliciousness.
Something is being fried and you melt thinking your raccoon king is cooking breakfast for you. Who knew he was this sweet and thoughtful.
What is even better though, somewhat masked by the sizzling, is if you listen hard enough, you think Gun might even be humming. Even the perfect bed can't keep you from pressing your ear up against the bedroom door when you connect the dots that he is humming a popular K-Pop song that you have listened to on loop 50 times the week prior.
You yank open the door with force, "A-ha!" and point in his direction, gleeful at catching him doing something so un-Gun like.
Gun, in the middle of plating 2 omelettes, whips his head to you and stills, looking like a deer caught in headlights or a raccoon caught in headlights, rather.
You ask him, with a shit eating grin,  if he's a big fan of the K-Pop group but it drops at his lack of reaction when he just shrugs and responds simply with a yes.
Damnit.
Of course you know it's not really anything to be ashamed of but it's so unexpected from Gun, that would it kill him to blush a little or act a little abashed? You expected something at least a little entertaining from his initial surprise, but you suppose anyone would act like that if a deranged house guest accosted them first thing in the morning after they so kindly made breakfast too.
As a consolation, after the let-down, you double take when you realise Gun had been cooking topless and remains topless this entire time.
In all his muscled glory. Pecs and abs and everything. Delicious broad shoulders and an enticing light trail of hair from below his belly button and stretching down, down, down into his sweatpants.
You gulp, trying to calm yourself down. You know you are staring so so obviously but you can't find it in yourself to look away.
Gun clears his throat as if to say my eyes are up here, and hands you a plate.
.
.
While you still have self control and before you outstay your welcome, you say bye to Gun after breakfast mentioning you have some errands to run.
It's a poor excuse but you didn't taste a bite of that omelette, brain too fixated on the man seated opposite and wondering if what he's hiding in his trousers matches the energy he gives off.
He offers to take you home and you insist on walking by yourself. You reason to yourself the fresh air after such a heady night and all the over excitement from this morning would do you good.
You say your goodbyes at his door, him leaning against the doorway, still unbearably tantalisingly shirtless and enough to distract you from the junkyard setting, with his arms folded and a smirk on his face as you stand there-
Standing and waiting and expecting.
You're pretty sure Gun wants to kiss you. There's a challenge in his eyes and you know he is teasing you.
The fact that you stared at him before like a slack-jawed moron also indicates full well what you would like him to do.
A goodbye kiss isn't too much to ask for (not that you're going to ask) but he continues to also lean and wait and smirk shirtlessly and god, this is the most awful hair-pulling frustrating game of chicken you have played.
For a moment you consider yanking him down and kissing him, hard and desperate, and making your way back inside to the most comfortable bed that has ever existed. For an even briefer moment you consider biting his pec and leaving a ring of teeth marks.
In the end, you can only muster "bye then," and to your dismay, your voice comes out whiny.
There's no hiding your disappointment.
Gun’s smirk grows wider at your tone and he relents and gives a peace offering in the form of a kiss on your cheek.
He pulls you into his body, arm wrapped around your waist and he dips down, grazes his lips featherlight to your cheek.
It's chaste. Impossibly tender and surprisingly sweet.
Damn.
You forget how to breathe and you feel like you're on fire as he murmurs bye into your ear. Later, you'll chastise yourself for letting Gun affect you like this with something so innocent.
You untangle from him and feel your legs wobble when you step off the porch and make your way back home.
Gun chuckles but you don't hear it.
You don't form a coherent thought again until that evening, when Gun beats you on Tekken and in a fit of rage and frustration, you finally break your controller.
.
.
To make things fair, Gun’s dislike of Literature is offset by how knowledgeable he is with Biology.
The human body, to be precise, and alarmingly so. Maybe serial killer levels of knowledge, with how much he knows about organs and muscles and tissues and everything in between.
He explains that it's useful for training, as if that's any explanation at all for his extensive knowledge. However, you've seen his body and heard enough about his past and yes, including his actual training, to realise that it does make sense in a way and you let it go.
Well.
Maybe you would have fought it a bit harder if you yourself was any good with biology but you're not. If he's great at it because he's a serial killer, then fortune favours the bold and you might as well take advantage of it.
Gun is a very very good teacher, which you did not predict and in a way you didn't expect.
His jaw is tense and the grip on the textbook tightens after you get the answer wrong for the 15th time and when you think he's about to whack you with said textbook, he closes his eyes and counts to ten.
When he opens them again, he tries another method with you. Then another. And another.
Truly, you did not think he had this sort of tolerance or patience.
He explains things simply and calmly (though you've noticed he has started to grit out his words). Unfortunately you still find all this theory hard to wrap your head around.
"Are you going to hit me?" You ask.
"Yes," Gun says though he doesn't. He looks more like he's going to ram his head through a wall. Neither happens and he continues to work through the textbook with you.
Hours later, it clicks.
You feel something of a genius even if Gun’s hair resembles a bird nest from the amount of time he has ran his fingers through in exasperation.
.
.
After finding out that you broke your controller, Gun buys you a new one immediately.
He's very generous and kind, you think, and it may be the first time in existence anyone has considered Gun as kind. 
Until you realise he has other reasons for doing so.
That night, and for several nights after too, Gun is merciless when he KOs you. Each match is shorter than the previous.
You register this is payback for the biology stint. It's got to be.
.
.
Nevertheless, because you're the bigger person and you take the defeats on the chin, as thanks and in an almost mirror image of Gun repaying your Literature help, you suggest taking him out for a coffee.
Getting a coffee to-go and hand delivering it would be much easier, but you can't bring yourself to order an espresso for someone even if it is their drink of choice.
You take him to one of your favourite coffeehouses. Somewhere much less lavish than the one he frequents and much more agreeable to your meagre pockets although the coffee is just as good.
"Two espressos," Gun says at the counter.
"One," you cut in firmly, holding yourself back from gagging. If you have to pay for it, you won't be drinking that bitter sludge. You rattle off your usual: a monstrosity made with double-digit syrup pumps and whipped cream and Gun flinches in your periphery.
Despite your insistence, he beats you to the punch and pays for the order anyway. Not before adding a jab that your coffee, if you can even call it a coffee, is the worst thing he has ever had the misfortune to spend money on.
"Try it," you offer, when your drink is in your hand and Gun watches every sip with mounting horror.
"No," His mouth is pressed into a thin line and he looks like he has half a mind to knock the cup out of your hand. He refrains, clenches his knuckles and rests them on his knee.
He closes his eyes and counts to ten.
You watch him, heartily enjoying your sugary drink and sucking noisily on the straw. He twitches and starts counting from one again. You feel a surge of affection.
.
.
Without any other plans, both of you amble together through the quiet streets. You window-shop as Gun smokes next to you and attempts to buy everything that you set your eye on.
You tell him thanks but no thanks and continue to look at pretty trinkets and funky decor. In the glass reflection, you notice Gun fondly looking at you.
"Hi," you smile, turning towards him. He looks more handsome than ever in the sunlight. You don't even mind the amount of gel in his hair.
"Hey," he says, low and hushed. He steps towards you, leaving only a hairbreadth of air in between and tips your chin up to face him with his fingers.
You notice his pupils are blown wide, flickering down to your lips. Gun dips down at the same time you press up onto your tiptoes, and you feel his chest against yours, his other arm winding around your waist, breath fanning over your skin-
This is it, you think, finally.
This, sadly, is not it.
"GUN!" you hear a voice screeching. You both tear your attention from each other to the shrill noise.
A blonde guy in the loudest suit you have ever cast your eyes upon is waving manically in your direction.
"Do you know him?" you ask and Gun's lips are thinner than you have ever seen.
"No."
"GUN!"  The blonde yells again and you raise an eyebrow at your companion.
His face looks pained as he tells you that is Goo Kim and when you ask if you both should go over and say hi, he snaps back absolutely not with a frown.
"Let's go," he says, lacing his fingers with yours and pulling you in the opposite direction. Behind you, you hear cackling and Gun hastens his footsteps as if being chased by a deranged spirit.
You don't see the blonde again for the rest of the day although Gun’s phone seems to be going off every other minute. 
The moment you had is never quite recaptured. You can't bring yourself to mind too much though, as Gun never lets go of your hand.
And everytime he catches you smiling at your hand in his, he gives you a light squeeze and returns the smile.
.
.
If you thought school would be all cutesy and you would take turns in helping each other with topics you're stuck on, you're wrong.
Turns out, both you and Gun are equally bad at math.
You watch, face blank, at your screen as the teacher explains algebra. At least, you think that’s what the jumble of numbers and letters are because your ears refuse to make sense of the words.
You search the monitor for Gun to see how well he is faring and find him staring dead-eyed.
Not very, then.
In class, you see Gun's textbook with some attempt at notes in the margin before devolving into his lewd stick men doodles that he still insists are fighting stances.
"You shouldn't cover your page in smut. No wonder you're bad at this." You tease.
He doesn't look at you, doesn't rise to the bait. Simply rebukes, "Your book is blank and you're still shit."
"Asshole," you hiss and his dead eyed stare is replaced with a smirk.
.
.
As it happens, Gun can be very convincing when he wants to be.
A fellow student trails behind Gun in the library, and offers to help you and him out with your lack of mathematical comprehension.
You ignore that the student seems absolutely terrified and keeps giving fearful glances to Gun as he peers at them menacingly.
So what if the convincing involves some light threats of bodily harm or whatever Gun has so charmingly offered if that means you will pass. Didn’t you already establish that you have questionable morals? You’re too set in your ways and there's no point fighting it now.
Neither of you get any further after a few hours, and it doesn't help that the student gets more and more nervous each time you and Gun get a question wrong.
Explanations devolve into stammering and barely strung together sentences as if their life depends on you both understanding basic algebra.
They let out a petrified squeak when Gun snaps his fifth pen in half, noticing he has no more pens and may very well come for their neck.
Maybe he will.
"Leave." Gun commands, pinching his nose bridge when he realises this is futile and the student scarpers off.
"I hate this," You say, dejected, and you watch Gun close his eyes and quietly count to ten.
.
.
As it happens, Gun can be very resourceful too when he wants to be.
The following week, the teacher trails behind Gun to the library and offers to help you both out.
He seems equally afraid, eyes flickering over to Gun, and you choose not to focus on that, instead smiling brightly at his kindness.
The teacher, gripping the textbook white knuckled, breathes a sigh of relief hours later when both you and Gun start to answer the questions correctly and with accurate workings too.
In your mind, you have both learnt something and he has avoided an ass kicking so you're all winners here.
Nevermind the fact that Gun would have been the one handing out the ass kicking. There's no need to focus on such details.
.
.
From this distance, you find a figure chain smoking again. You’re now so familiar with his body language, with his mannerisms, that you know beyond a shadow of a doubt that it’s Gun and clearly there’s also something playing on his mind.
He sucks a cigarette down to the filter and lights up another one immediately after.
You worry about the poor state of his lungs and if he looks like this when he’s only 20, then mid-life will actually hit him hard. His body must be running on fumes. He really should cut down on the cigarettes and the caffeine and get a better night's sleep instead of staying up all night gaming. 
Not that you’re one to talk.
Perhaps it’s due to how he’s on alert for your presence like you are to him, his eyes snap to yours the moment you start to make your way over.
“You ok?” you ask and he gives you a funny look. It’s the same look whenever you express interest in his well being, or any general interest in him at all, and you think poor guy.
“Fine,” he responds, finishing off another cigarette and flicking it onto the floor.
And another thing, he really shouldn’t litter.
You don’t hesitate to tell him so, and as your tongue unravels, you start to also mention the smoking and his health and how you’re worried about him. Yes he clearly works out but all the cigarettes and lack of sleep will take a toll on him eventually.
Gun’s eyebrows climb into his hairline at your words. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you notice that what was supposed to come across as caring is very much coming across as a lecture though you can’t seem to stop.
As you begin to mention the obscene amount of gel he wears in his hair, his expression turns from bemused to sour and he cuts you off.
“You can nag me at mine over Tekken.”
“I’m not nagging-” you start, and then you abruptly stop as your brain kicks into gear and it sinks in that he has invited you over to his again.
Oh right. His.
The junkyard. 
At some point, you’ve forgotten that you’re in love with the King of Raccoons. That this guy willingly lives in a shack in the middle of, what you can only politely describe as, garbage, and you wonder how your life has come to this.
Gun is patient as he waits for your answer and his eyes are warm. It doesn’t sway you though. You want to counter with No. Why don’t you come to mine then you remember his beautiful bed. Yes you’re getting ahead of yourself but if there’s a chance you get to experience it again, sure. You will come to his raccoon den.
You agree and he gives you the softest smile you have ever seen.
.
.
“Shit,” you say, crestfallen and hanging limply.
“Shouldn’t you be used to losing by now?” comes Gun’s voice and you want to bounce the controller off his head.
“Shut up.”
“Your combinations are weak and poorly timed. You don’t understand how to use your characters or their advantages and you have no idea how to counter my moves.”
As the killing blow to your ego and pride, he adds, "You won that time because I let you."
A part of you already knew that yet you still stare at him agape at his audacity. Sitting, manspreading, on his armchair while he casually assassinates your skills.
“I’m not wrong.” He says with a smirk.
“Shut up,” you repeat, standing up.
“I can train you.”
“Shut up,” you stalk over to him.
“Or what?” He sits back to look up at you as you hover over him. Chin lifted defiantly and his eyes daring.
“This,” you snap, gripping him by the front of his shirt and pulling him towards you. You’re sick of losing and you’re sick of waiting. 
You clash your lips together and feel Gun exhale sharply in surprise at your actions. He tenses, for a split second, before he tugs you into his lap and your legs straddle his thighs. His hand reaches under your top, sliding their way across your skin as you grind down. 
“Wait,” he murmurs, pulling away, lips glossy and gazing at you half-lidded. 
He leans back to look at you properly, removing his hand as you subconsciously chase his touch, then with gentle hands, he cups your face and grazes his thumb over your cheek.
The TV screen illuminates his features, light reflecting in his eyes and you find something you only saw an inkling of during that first night, but has grown strong and steady since.
Gun looks at you like he did then -  soft, like you might break. Holds you the same way he had done - tender and precious. 
Only this time, there’s a steeled resolve in his face as he presses your bodies together, capturing your lips against his once more and you melt into his embrace. He’s much more gentle than you were but there’s a hunger and quiet desperation as his tongue swipes over your lips and slips in your mouth.
Your fingers run through his hair, and you’re pleasantly surprised to find it soft. All this time there wasn’t too much gel at all.
.
.
Gun wakes up the next morning with you drooling into his collar bone.
You wake up after the best night sleep of your life - wrapped in Gun’s arms and in the most comfortable bed known to man.
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beautifuldisaster88 · 9 months ago
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A Match Made In Hell
Pairings: Dark!Rafe x Female!Reader (She comes off sweet and innocent but is actually a psychopath)
Summary: Rafe Cameron fell in love with the OBX's sweet and innocent kook princess, but what was it about her that drew him in? When she turns out to be just as psychotic (if not more than Rafe) as him, what will happen? Will the once peaceful and quiet Kildare Island be turned upside down? Will anyone find out the truth about her? Or will her sweet and innocent persona be enough to fool an entire island?
Warnings: Dark themes, mentions of torture and murder, murder, mentions of weapons, weapon use, details of torture and murder, unprotected sex P in V, knife play, mention of branding, drug use, to sum it all up they're both psychopaths! Read at your own risk.
A/N: I used the name Sky/Skylar, but you can picture reader however you want. Other than describing how she dresses and acts, there isn't much physical description of her. Fair warning this is longer than I originally planned for it to be . Guess you could say I went overboard with this shit. However, I did try to shorten it more, deciding to end it where I did, otherwise it probably would have turned into a full blown story.
×××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××
!!!!MDNI!!! 18+
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With Rafe Cameron, what you see is what you get. The eldest of the three Cameron siblings, Rafe was unhinged, a psychopath. From trying to drown his sister, Sarah, to murdering Sheriff Peterkin, beating those dirty Pogues to a pulp any time he had the chance, pulling a gun on his dad, to actually shooting Sarah. The list of crimes that the Cameron male had committed only continued to pile up. The good thing about being a Cameron? It meant that Rafe got away with murder, literally. He was a true psychopath and everyone knew it.
Then you have Skylar Rose, Outer Banks sweetheart, the kook princess. The Rose family held just as much power on the island as the Cameron family, if not more. Skylar or Sky as everyone called her was the complete opposite of Rafe. She was the definition of innocent, wearing white flowy summer dresses, nails always perfectly manicured, flowers usually adorned in her wavy beach wave hair, makeup always perfectly done and perfectly applied glossy lips. The Rose girl always had a smile on her face that was brighter than the sun, greeting everyone that she passed on the island, both Kooks and Pogues. If someone needed help, Sky was the first to lend a hand, no questions asked. She loved babies, animals, stuffed animals, anything that was pink and sparkly. She was the Outer Banks angel, untouched by any guy. That was until Rafe Cameron made her his own.
You see, under all those innocent layers laid something dark and twisted. While others only saw her as innocent, Rafe knew that there was more to Skylar Rose, and he made it his mission to bring out her true nature, which took less persuasion than he expected.
The couple was trouble together, feeding each other their psychotic desires behind closed doors. So, what happens when people start going missing on the small island and bodies start turning up? Normally, the Cameron men, Rafe and his father Ward would be the first that the people of Kildare County would blame, but with Sky now in the picture, it left the residents of the island puzzled. They truly believed that Sky had Rafe under control. Oh, how wrong they were.
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It was a typical Friday night on Figure Eight. Rafe had convinced Topper to throw a party at his place, bitching that Ward refused to let the Cameron male throw anymore of his parties at Tannyhill, at least when Ward was home. With Sky giving the Thornton male her sweetest and most innocent smile and pleading eyes, Topper folded within seconds. Both Rafe and Sky knew that she had everyone on the island wrapped around her dainty perfectly manicured finger.
The Thornton house was crowded with kook party goers, music blaring throughout every room. The liquor was overflowing and the drugs at anyone's disposal. It was your typical kook party. Sweaty and dancing bodies everywhere, people hooking up wherever the fuck they pleased.
Sky was currently perched on Rafe's lap, curled up against her boyfriend as he made his usual drug deals, white powdery lines scattered across the glass table in front of them. She was dressed in her usual attire, wearing a white babydoll dress that Rafe bought her that morning, adorned with thigh high stockings with pink bows at the top, knowing how much her boyfriend loved when she wore those damn stockings. Her hair was worn down that night, small pink and white glittery flowers throughout. It was no secret that Sky was the hottest girl at the party. Hell, she was the hottest girl on the island, but everyone knew she belonged to Rafe, meaning she was off limits.
"I'm telling you man, this yayo is top of the line shit. Best you'll ever have. We just got a new shipment, cut straight from Columbia. You won't find this shit anywhere else on the island, yeah?" The Cameron male said to the group of kooks surrounding them, each one reaching for their wads of cash.
Rafe possessively squeezed her bowtie stocking clad thigh, not liking the way that Chad was eying his girl. His jaw tightened, eyes immediately darkening. The squeeze he had on Sky's thigh was so tight that it was sure to leave bruises.
"Yo, man. Ain't you afraid of corrupting little miss innocent with this shit, Rafe? I mean, has she even seen this shit in person before?" Asked Chad, your typical frat kook.
Chad might have been too stupid to realize but Rafe couldn't stand the asshole, his eyes always on Sky. The Cameron boy wanted nothing more than to slam Chad's head through the glass table, but this was business, so Rafe tried his damnedest to remain professional, not wanting to lose out on a deal.
"You do realize who the fuck she belongs to, yeah? Baby Girl here might be innocent, but that don't mean she's fucking stupid. How 'bout you worry 'bout your fuckin' self and let me worry about my girl, yeah? Yeah."
Sky felt her boyfriend tense up, knowing that he had one thing on his mind. Murder.... and Chad was tonight's victim.
"Not yet, Rafey. His time will come later." Sky purred in his ear, making the blonde nod. No one had ever been able to keep Rafe under control, except his Skylar.
Getting back into business mode, Rafe let out a dark laugh, playfully smacking his girlfriend's thigh as he looked from her to Chad.
"Shit, she might be innocent but you best believe my girl here knows all the ends and outs of this shit. Who the fuck you think packages everything and cuts the shit up so perfectly? You're looking at my business partner, man. I taught her everything she knows.Y'gonna buy some or just eye fuck my angel, huh?"
Chad's eyes immediately widened and he nervously rubbed the back of his neck, quickly peeling his eyes away from Sky as she giggled into Rafe's neck. He might not be the brightest crayon in the box, but he knew not to piss off Rafe Cameron, especially when it came to his girl, no matter how badly Chad wished he could fuck Sky.
"Uh, yeah... Yeah, give me 3 G's worth, man. I-I wasn't eye fucking your girl, Rafe, I wouldn't do that. Everyone knows that Skylar belongs to you. I... I wouldn't do that, man."
Rafe snorted, knowing damn well he knew what he saw. Still, he reached for a stack of little baggies that were filled with the white substance. Before he handed the merchandise to Chad, Sky held out a dainty hand, motioning for Chad to place the money in it. He hesitantly looked from her to Rafe, earning a nod of approval from the Cameron male. Once the cash was in her hand, Skylar quickly counted it.
"It's all there, Rafey. Give Chad his goodies so that he can be on his way. Even though I know Chaddy here could have at least bought 5 G's Worth, but he chose the cheap route this time. Oh well." Skylar hummed, shrugging her shoulders as she placed the wad of cash in her little pink bunny shaped backpack that Rafe had bought for her. While Rafe handled dealing the cocaine, she handled the money. The pair being the perfect business partners.
Rafe threw the stack of baggies tied around a pink rubberband (Skylar's doing, of course) at Chad, giving him a death stare.
Rafe then turned his attention to his girlfriend, trailing kisses from under her earlobe and down her neck as he whispered. "Daddy needs his fix, angel. Gon' let me do some lines off those perfect tits, yeah?"
"Here's your shit. Now fucking scram." Rafe spat, shooing Chad away with his hand.
It was almost like a scene from a comedy movie, the way that Chad hurriedly stood, practically tripping over his own two feet, mumbling about how sorry he was and how he didn't mean to disrespect Rafe or his girl. It took everything in the Rose girl to not burst out in giggles.
Her giggles filled the air, Rafe barely able to hear them over the booming music, but not even the music could drown out Rafe hearing those angelic giggles. She bit down on her bottom lip, whimpering at how his mouth felt against her soft skin. Being the possessive man that he was, Rafe made sure to leave marks along her neck, marking what belonged to him.
"Whatever Daddy wants, Daddy gets."
"Atta girl. S'good for Daddy. Gon' have to reward you later, hmm?" He whispered, his hand trailing further up her thigh, earning a small moan from her.
Sky reached into Rafe's pocket, pulling out a small baggie filled with white powder. Leaning back against the arm of the overly expensive couch, she began to sprinkle lines of the white substance on her cleavage, involuntarily squeezing her thighs together when Rafe let out a low groan. He leaned his face in closer, lining his nostrils up perfectly with the two white lines before snorting one, followed by the second. He then ran his tongue slowly over each breast, cleaning off whatever remained of the white powder. Of course, he had to give those perfect a few nips.
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Hours later as the party began to die down, the couple decided it was time to put their plan in motion. Both of them coked out of their minds, not to mention the mixture of alcohol and other substances. They had their ways of making sure nobody ever saw Sky snort white lines up her nostrils. She had a reputation to uphold being innocent after all. Thank God that Sky knew how to fool everyone, making them think that she was just tipsy from the half empty bottle of beer that Rafe handed her, not knowing that it was actually a mixture of different types of alcohol.
She made her way through the house, drink in hand as she searched for their victim, humming along to the music as she flashed her million dollar smile at everyone. When she spotted Chad, she put on her innocent act, strolling over to him as her tits bounced, barely contained by the thin material of her dress, ass peaking out from under. Before even approaching Chad, she knew that he was putty in her hand.
"Chad! There you are. I've been looking all over for you. I wanted you to try this new drink mixture I made and tell me what you think. Also my way of apologizing for Rafey's behavior. He tends to get a tad bit overprotective of me." Her voice came out sweet, so innocent sounding. Little did poor Chad know, the drink in her hand had a few extra ingredients, courtesy of Barry.
"Oh, uh, hey Sky. Where's, uh... Where's Rafe. He know you were coming to talk to me?" Chad asked nervously, looking around for any signs of Rafe. When he didn't see the Cameron male, he instantly smirked, not even trying to hide the fact that he was checking her out.
She giggled sweetly, adding on the charm as she flashed her million dollar smile once again, perfectly straight pearly whites on display along with her deep dimples. She twirled a strand of hair around her dainty finger.
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"Relax, Chaddy. I told Rafey that I was going to look for you. He's busy finishing up his last deals for the night. I just want you to try my new mix, not like I'm asking you to take me upstairs to an empty bedroom."
"Yeah, yeah of course I'll try it, sweetheart."
Got him, Sky thought to herself. This was just too damn easy.
"Fuck, Chad here is a lot heavier than I expected, baby. I swear, if he makes me break a nail or even chip my nail polish, 'm gonna go after his whole fucking family." Sky huffed as her and Rafe dragged Chad's unconscious body out of the bed of Rafe's truck.
"Baby Girl, Daddy already told you that you don't have to do any of the heavy lifting. That's what y'got me for, yeah?"
She immediately scrunched up her face, shaking her head from side to side with a strained huff.
"m'not letting.. you do all the.. heavy lifting yourself, Daddy. Whatcha take me for, some sort of weak bitch? Huh? Is that it? Cause 'm not weak, Rafey."
Rafe let out a dark chuckle, shaking his head as he smirked. She was a fiery one and he loved it.
"Shh, shh. Not what I'm saying at all, Baby Girl. I know that you're strong. Y'just got your nails done this morning and Daddy just doesn't want you fuckin' 'em up... 'specially 'fore you get the chance to wrap them 'round my cock. That's all." Rafe reassured her. "This should be good. Drop him here, angel."
Skylar didn't need to be told twice, she dropped Chad's unconscious body, shrugging as she heard a loud thud from his body hitting the concrete floor of the abandoned building. She immediately began inspecting her nails, making sure there were no chips. When she found no damage done to her nails, she looked up at Rafe with a huge grin, holding up both hands for him to see.
"Look, Daddy. No damage done." She beamed, before her face scrunched up in a cute little pout. "Too bad they'll be covered in blood soon. Oh well." She shrugged. "Least I know how to get 'em clean."
Rafe chuckled, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her flush against his toned and muscular body, running his hands down her back and cupping her ass. He leaned his face in to kiss along her jaw, before capturing her lips.
"Yeah, well, just know I plan on fucking you before we get cleaned up. You know what Y'do to Daddy when you're covered in blood." He purred in her ear, making her whimper.
"Daddy! Now 'm wet." Sky whined, making the Cameron boy chuckle.
"What's new, Baby Girl? You get wet just think' 'bout me. Don't worry your pretty little self, Daddy will take good care of you... After we're done with Chad."
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Straddling Chad's lap, Skylar ran the cold blade across his jawline, pouting that he still wasn't awake. Reaching back her other hand, she slapped Chad hard in the face, the sound bouncing off the empty walls of the abandoned building.
"Chad, time to wake up. I wanna play. Won't you play with me?" She whined, grinning like a maniac as the male groaned.
Chad's eyes slowly fluttered open, his head pounding as he tried to regain his focus. Not recognizing his surroundings, his eyes widened when he saw Skylar in his lap, knife pressed against his throat. Sure enough, Rafe was standing a few feet behind her, looking like a true psychopath.
"W-what the fuck did you put in my drink you crazy bitch!? Get the fuck off me! You're both fucking psychopaths!"
"You know, Chad... You should never call a psychopath a psychopath... Makes them angry. I don't think you want to make us angry, now do you!?" Skylar pressed the sharp end of the blade deeper against his neck, breaking the skin. She grinned as she watched the crimson liquid trickle down his throat.
"Look, I didn't do shit. Just let me go. I-I promise I won't tell anyone. I swear, man. Just let me go."
Rafe clicked his tongue, stalking over closer to where Chad was tied to the chair.
"Can't do that, man. You crossed a line tonight. Eying my girl like a pussy starved virgin. Ya pussy starved, Chad, huh? That it? Well guess what?" Rafe asked, reaching a hand out to cup Skylar's pussy under her flowy white dress. "This pussy, yeah, this pussy belongs to me. Even has MY name carved into her thigh. You fucked up, man, and now Y'gotta pay the price. Them's the rules, yeah?"
"Rafe, you got it all wrong, man.. I... I was-"
Chad was immediately cut off by Skylar slicing open his throat, pouting as the crimson liquid squirted all over her white dress.
"He talked too much. Made me bored." She shrugged. "Great!" She plunged the knife into his chest, ignoring his gurgled cries and pleas as he choked on his own blood. "You!" STAB. "Ruined!" STAB. "My!" STAB. "Favorite!" STAB. "Fucking" STAB. "Dress!" With one last stab to Chad's abdomen, she trailed the embedded blade down his stomach, ripping him open in two as his insides pooled out of him.
Rafe's cock was painfully hard, pressing against his jeans as he watched his girlfriend take Chad's life. It wasn't how they planned it, but he always let his Baby Girl do as she pleased. As much as Rafe wanted to be the one to kill that fucking douchebag, he couldn't deny how fucking hot his girl looked.
"You can stop now, angel. Chad's no longer with us. Pity that there wasn't much torture. M'proud of you though. You did so good, Baby Girl. Get that sweet ass over here and let Daddy reward you."
"M'kay, Daddy." Sky hummed, climbing off Chad's lifeless lap. Her once white dress now drenched in the frat boy's blood.
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Rafe teased Skylar, running his red tip over her slick folds, his precum mixing with her slickness. He groaned at the sight of her pretty glistening pussy, the most perfect pussy that he'd ever seen. The blonde was obsessed, willingly admitting to her that he was pussy whipped.
"Rafey, stop teasing!" She whimpered, already writhing beneath him just from his tip gliding along her slick folds.
"Gotta admire the view before I destroy that pretty pussy, yeah? So soaked f'me already, Baby Girl and I've barely touched you. Sucha fucking slut for Daddy's cock, yeah? Yeah, you are. Got you practically coming undone and I haven't even fucked you yet."
"Rafe, I swear if you don't fuck me right no-"
"You'll what? Hmm? You ain't gonna do shit, Baby Girl. I fucking own this pussy and if I want to take my time, I will, yeah? But, since you did so good tonight I won't make you beg."
With that, he slammed his cock deep inside her, not even giving her time to adjust to his size before his hips thrust roughly, slamming in and out of her tight hole. He practically came at the loud moans that rolled off her tongue.
Sky gasped when she felt a cold metal against her abdomen as Rafe slammed his cock deep inside her sopping cunt. She grinned knowing that the cold metal was her knife. It wasn't the first time that the couple did knife play, or even gun play at that. When it came to sexual situations, there wasn't much that was off limits for the pair.
Rafe snaked an arm around to grab her by the throat, squeezing hard as he yanked her head back, wanting to see her face as she came undone. Her once bright doe eyes were as dark as his.
"Hold still for me, Baby Girl, yeah?" Rafe groaned, eyes rolling back from how perfectly her pussy wrapped around his big cock. "Wouldn' want to nick that flawless skin."
Rafe took the blade in his hand, running it along her inner thigh. He felt her walls tighten around him, practically milking him. She obeyed him, trying to stay as still as possible, even though it was almost impossible the way Rafe was roughly thrusting in and out of her.
"Fuck, you gonna cum already? Sucha fucking dirty whore, gettin' off on my cock and having a fucking knife against your skin. Cum for Daddy, wan' you to soak my cock, Baby Girl."
"Mhm, 'm gonna cum daddy." Sky whimpered, feeling the familiar tightness in her stomach.
She threw her head back against Rafe's bare and sweaty chest, mumbling a few curse words as she came undone. Rafe supported her body with one strong hand, pounding into her soaked pussy harder, each thrust more sloppy than the last, letting her know that he was also close.
"Fuck!... Rafe!"
Sky screamed out his name in the most pleasurable way as she came, soaking Rafe's cock. Rafe was right behind her, moaning her name as he emptied his load deep inside her pussy, painting her walls white.
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It had been well over two weeks since the couple brutally murdered Chad. Missing posters were posted all over the island with Chad's picture. Sky and Rafe had even joined the search party for the frat boy, knowing damn well nobody would find him. After chopping his body up, the couple fed him to the gators. Still, they had to make sure they came off just as concerned as the rest of the island.
The couple were sat at a table at The Wreck, eating their lunch when a breaking news alert appeared on the TV. Both their heads snapped to the screen, listening closely to the news report.
"Residents of Kildare County, we come to you with breaking news. What you're about to hear and see might not be suitable for everyone. Kildare County Sheriff's department was called out this morning when a hiker in the woods came across a severed hand. After further investigation it was discovered that the hand belonged to missing teenager, Chad Smith. We take you now to a special report from Sheriff Shoupe."
"The Sheriff's department received a call this morning from a caller who wishes to remain anonymous. After arriving on scene, Deputy Plumb and myself took the severed hand to evidence. After running the hand for prints it was discovered that it belonged to Chad Smith. Deputies searched the area in hopes of finding a body, but came up empty handed. Without knowing how long Chad's body was out there, we're assuming that the gators got to him before we did. As of now we don't have any suspects and don't expect foul play to be at hand. According to our reports, Chad was last seen leaving a house party and was heavily under the influence of drugs and alcohol. Our best guess is that he passed out and maybe hit his head. If anyone has any information, we ask that you please contact the Sheriff's department. We'll update you with any new information we come across. As of now, we're ruling out homicide. Our thoughts and prayers go out to Chad's family and friends. A vigil will be held this Friday evening on the beach. Thank you."
Rafe and Sky peeled their eyes off the screen, immediately looking at each other with proud grins. Little did everyone know, the couple planted the hand, knowing that someone would soon come across it. There was no way that Chad's murder could be pinned on either of them, the pair too smart to leave behind any evidence.
Sky gave Rafe a faux pout, sticking out her bottom lip.
"Poor Chad. Who would do a thing like that? It's so, so sad." She hummed, running a finger down her cheek as a faux tear.
Rafe grinned as he let out a low chuckle, reaching over the table to take Sky's hand in his, absentmindedly drawing shapes on the back of her hand with his thumb.
"Mhm, real sad. Eat your food, Baby Girl. Gon' need your strength for tonight. Got something special planned."
Sky perked up, looking at her boyfriend with a bright smile, but only Rafe knew the darkness behind that innocent smile. Leaning across the table, she whispered.
"Please tell me that it's finally Sophia's turn. Can't stand seeing her check you out anymore, Daddy. You're mine."
Rafe chuckled, nodding his head as he brought their hands to his lips, peppering the back of hers with kisses.
"Mhm. Daddy's gon' let you play with that bitch tonight. Let her know who the fuck I belong to."
"Yay! Thank you, Daddy. I love you, Rafey."
"I love you too, Baby Girl. More than anything."
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sirfrogsworth · 2 years ago
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The Babylon Bee School of Comedy
Have you ever wanted to make Elon Musk reply to you with a double cry laughing emoji?
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If you crave that sweet billionaire validation you need only follow this carefully crafted conservative comedy content creation course for that powerhouse of online satire... The Babylon Bee.
Soon you too could be bootlicking billionaire balls with the rest of The BBee writers.
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Are you ready to get your learn on?
Let us Bee-gin.
The number one most important rule that all The BBee writers must internalize to their core...
Conservative comedy abhors effort.
Brainstorming for hours on end to craft the perfect premise and punchline... is for the Libs. Check out this Facebook meme that got 10,000 likes.
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Can you order Starbucks from a bar? Doesn't matter, it's a snowflake drink for a snowflake Lib.
Does this joke not have an actual punchline? Doesn't matter, get lost you stupid Lib!
Is this technically a joke by definition? Doesn't matter, if you believe it is a joke, then it's a joke! Just like modern currency.
If you put too much thought into a joke, it might grow in complexity. That could be confusing! The death knell of any conservative joke are the words, "Hmm, that's a thinker."
This brings us to rule number two...
NO THINKERS!
Let's take this Ben Garrison comic as an example.
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Spell everything out! Label everything! Don't leave anything to the imagination! If your audience has to figure something out or draw their own conclusions, what fun is that?
Conservatives want to hear things that are familiar. They want their beliefs parroted back at them. You must regurgitate those beliefs and then just make it *sound* like a joke. Don't break new ground or introduce new ideas. Don't get all caught up in interesting wordplay or clever puns or subverting expectations.
All expectations should be fully verted.
That is definitely a word because I saw someone use it on Facebook. End of research.
Here is a helpful tip. If you can't imagine the joke coming out of the mouth of late night comedy genius GUTFELD!, then you need to dial it back a bit. Do not surpass GUTFELD! levels of humor. GUTFELD! is your touchstone.
youtube
Oh, GUTFELD! I laughed so hard I FELD it in my GUT.
See, I went too far with my fancy pun. That is not the GUTFELD! way.
But what happens if inspiration is fleeting and you can't pay attention to your comedy writing task because you don't believe ADHD is real and thus you are unmedicated?
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Don't you worry. If you do happen to get writer's block or are distracted by a funny Pepe meme or a shiny object, just call your racist uncle and say the magic word... "Bidenflation."
As the ensuing unhinged rant darts from subject to subject without any kind of connecting theme, just start writing down every right wing buzzword you hear. Then just insert those buzzwords Mad Libs-style into a derivative joke format.
Let's practice!
Ex. 1: Why did the PRONOUNS cross the BORDER? To get to the DRAG QUEEN STORY HOUR!
Ex. 2: How many GENDERS does it take to GROOM a lightbulb? Two! One to hold the BUTT PLUG and one to GO WOKE, GO BROKE.
Great start! I'm sure with a polishing pass those will make more sense. Or not. The bar is pretty much "will it get clicks?" so we're not too worried about coherence.
Heh... Mad Libs.
U MAD, LIBS?
Get it? Cuz Libs are always mad? About the normalized bigotry and whatnot.
Jokes are always better when you need to explain them.
Oh! That's another rule. Write that down. Wisdom like this is why I am teaching this course, of course. Hah, that's like that horse show song. I got jokes coming out the wazoo. Wazoo is my butt, right? Siri, is wazoo a butt? Oof, I'm kinda spacing on what the next lesson is.
I really wish Matt Walsh hadn't flushed my Adderall down the crapper.
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Can I get a second opinion? Top Gun was so good. What does Tom Cruise think about ADHD? He always has good takes on stuff like this. Did I leave my oven on? Shazam, what song goes doodoo doo doo doooooo? Can you vacuum a yard? Has anyone tried that? That sounds more like a marijuana thought than an ADHD tangent. I should double check the THC content of that cotton candy vape juice.
I'm flyin' off the rails over here.
Matt, are you super duper sure it's not real?
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Okay, fine. I'm an "energetic boy."
I hope whichever fish absorbs my meds is extra focused on whatever fish shit he needs to get done.
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COMEDY WRITING!
Sometimes it is best to learn through observation. Let's eavesdrop on an actual The BBee writer's room to see how the sausage is made...
"So what did your racist uncle have to say?"
"Well, first he texted me a cameraphone picture of Trump as an astronaut that he wants me to print out cuz he doesn't know what a crypto wallet is... but then he said all the woke schools are turning kids into a bunch of gay commies."
"EUREKA!"
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Classic! The BBee writers strike again. I mean, they aren't striking. There is no commie clamoring for a union at The Babylon Bee. That's for damn sure. FOCUS!
Do you get the joke though? With the kids and the gay and the communism?
Because all of those woke schools totally cover complex economic theories in 4th grade and all it takes to turn gay is a little persuasion from a teacher with green hair. Libs of TikTok wouldn't lie about that. End of research.
Look at this public school teacher!
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I mean, you knooow she has a litter box in her classroom. I can just sense it. End of research.
Sure... it is just a context-free picture of a person with green hair in front of a flag and you cannot actually judge the quality of their teaching ability from this. But yoouuu knoooooow she is skipping right over grammar lessons and giving detailed instructions on how to turn gay.
Step 1: Look at a bunch of butts. Step 2: Touch a bunch of butts. Step 3: Gay sex a bunch of butts.
(Replace butts with cooches for lesbians.)
Grooming accomplished.
And you definitely shouldn't look up that green-hair'd, nose ring'd educator and research her any further. Extensive research is for the Libs, bro. Because you definitely don't want to discover she is a passionate high school English teacher who makes fun content on TikTok in the hopes that people will buy things off her wishlist so her students will have a better learning experience. I mean, caring about her students? That's so gay.
YoooOOOuuuUUU knnnooooooOOOw she is a bad teacher because she has green hair and a flag. End. Of. Research.
So... you have your gay communist headline that is perfect to get all of those sweet conservative clicks. But you still have a full webpage to fill out with more words and stuff.
Now I want to see if you learned anything from my perfectly focused and informative teachings. I want you to write some jokes about kids becoming gay communists.
Ready? GO!
Joke #1 Little Billy has wealthy parents so all the students will share his cookie at snack time.
Joke #2 At the beginning of the day, students pick a new gender out of a hat but all the kids fight over Attack Helicopter.
Joke #3 At lunch, the students have to stand in a peanut butter and jelly bread line.
Joke #4 The teacher makes the kids take turns combing each others' hair for a grooming session.
Wait a sec... are those... THINKERS?
No no no no no! You made my brain all confused and thinky!
You need to calm down, you overachieving silly billy. You forgot the first rule... NO EFFORT.
Just make the same joke over and over again with slightly different wording. EASY!
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Remember the classic final rule of comedy...
Jokes always get funnier the more you repeat them.
Anyway, that's probably enough... joke.
Now let's close this article out!
Maybe we can drop the pretense this is comedic satire and just do some hardcore pandering. Gotta own the Libs, amirite?
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Gender theory and drag queens and guns, oh my! That is pure pander-monium.
Just shove those factless tactless Tucker talking points straight down their gullet. They'll forget this was supposed to be funny and shake their fist in the air with exaltation. And it's definitely a great idea to put the thought of gunning down drag queens in their heads. That won't backfire in any way!
Congratulations! You are now ready to "write" for The Babylon Bee.
Please purchase this official Trump NFT certificate for $99 that acknowledges that you have completed this course and have a very poor understanding of what satire actually is.
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End of research.
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noah-shin · 2 years ago
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Popular yandere x reader
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Warning: yandere themes, manipulation
Word count: 800
________♡________
Name: Silas Reynolds
Pronouns:he/him
Age: 19
Occupations: student
Likes: attention, you, sweet foods, late night walks
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Yandere type:執着型
shuuchaku gata - obsession type
⌱⧼⊹ Yandere who has known you since high school for being in the same friend group.
Who never talked with you that much because you were apparel useless and thought of you as a background character.
⌱⧼⊹ Yandere who had girl's line at his door to fuck with him, not that he minded tho. Dripping with attention and compliments. More of a ladies man.
⌱⧼⊹ Yandere who didn't value you in his life until he did. He was saved by you after a very bad car crash. He might as well just think you as an angel sent from above in his daze
⌱⧼⊹ Yandere who couldn't just ignore how caring and worried you were for a not so friend like him and surprisingly it wasn't even pretentious(he didn't realize you were like that with everyone).
⌱⧼⊹ Yandere who thought you filled the void of an ideal lover in his heart. So beautiful, caring, kind and fragile just like a flower
⌱⧼⊹ Yandere who can read through you like a book but still can't figure out why he likes you. What hooked him up to you
I mean you're a very average girl living a simple life, well that's what he thought
Suddenly he will notice every simple thing you do, staring at you is his new hobby. Forget about anything else, his world actually revolves around you.
⌱⧼⊹ Yandere who notices how you h/c hair flows in the wind, how you smile at the silliest thing, how you just look so perfect. He's just so infatuated in your life spending all the time thinking and looking out for you
Not that you mind because you don't know someone is following you everywhere you go.
Yandere who would have a series of dreams of you just being there looking ethereal.
⌱⧼⊹ Yandere who will have thousand of pics of you and accessories you left behind. He will prevent anyone from causing harm to you and will change his playboyish tendencies.
He's no longer a low class playboy.He will change just to be the perfect lover for you.
⌱⧼⊹ Yandere who will try to pursue you to be his girlfriend knowing you will agree but you just straight up rejected.
Now that hurt his ego. Guess he will have to go to extreme levels to get you.
⌱⧼⊹ He's the type of yandere who will spread malicious rumors about you and your s/o to isolate you from everyone else. When you are the most vulnerable and lonely, he will just scoop you right in consoling you, expressing his undying love for you and saying how others don't know of your worth.
⌱⧼⊹ He is more patient with you than anyone else so that he can have a normal relationship with you. He will always try his best to impress you all the time. You liked that dress in that shop, be ready to get it before even the day ends. He's always ready to spend his money on you. He will do anything for you but the only thing he wants is your love.
⌱⧼⊹ He knows you will never love him as much as he loves you but it's okay, his love is enough for you two. He feels like he's in heaven when you praise him saying how much of a great lover he is and cuddles with him. He basically thrives on your attention.
⌱⧼⊹ Yandere who will smile at everyone and act normal with them when he's only thinking about you in his mind. Downright simping for you 24/7
Yandere who will get annoyed when someone talks shit about you but just reminds you to stop listening to them cz dogs will bark anyways.
⌱⧼⊹ Yandere who will put on a facade of being a loving person so that even if you try to leave him or run away, nobody will believe you.
Who in their right mind would even run away from someone like him?
⌱⧼⊹ Yandere who will use others to eliminate his rivals and useless people. He just doesn't like the idea of smearing his hand with the blood of filthy people.
Extremely manipulative and smart, there's a big chance you will never know about his unhinged thoughts about you, it's more peaceful if you don't.
Has a big god complex and is actually able to manipulate his s/o to maneuver his way into her life pretty easily. He will definitely marry you soon so that you can be his legally.
He craves for you
He want to own your heart, body, soul and hopes that you will be with him till death pull you both apart.
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le-trash-prince · 4 months ago
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....apologies in advance for how unhinged this is probably gonna be.
no real need to talk about what kinks babe and charlie have since the show did it for us 😌
North and Sonic, in the bedroom, with a camera. it's canon to me. also when they're even just hanging out with the rest of x hunter they'll send each other ~sexy~ photos. my headcanon is that before they even got together they'd like. review/critique each other's thirst traps, and more risque photos.
ALSO I like to think that they think as the young cool hip members of the team they should be having wild freaky sex all the time but most often they end up having sweet vanilla sex. they're like we bought all those toys/outfits/paraphernalia for NOTHING.
since rewatching the show I've been having A LOT of peteway feelings. service! top! Pete!!!! sorry but that scene where Way is all whiny and pouty and Pete just takes care of him is printed indelibly into my mind. Pete has almost kind of a saviour complex - he clearly still thinks of Kenta as his responsibility even all those years later - which works very well with a Way who needs someone to build him back up from being broken. (and Pete also makes Way get a therapist)
I think they both like using - or specifically Not using - their powers in bed. Way for sure likes that he doesn't HAVE to say what he wants, Pete can just know. but definitely sometimes Pete makes him say it. and to make sure Way doesn't get frustrated and use his powers on Pete his hands have to be tied up you know?
also have NOT stopped thinking about body worship and Way getting overwhelmed by it since you mentioned it.... GOD.
anyway hot rich housewife Way😌as he deserves😌no chance Way can cook BUT as demonstrated in the show he very clearly understands food as love SO. consider Way (more atticwife than housewife in this s2 AU scenario but Way would love it) checking exactly when Pete is getting home - of course Pete is always hurrying home these days, but what can you expect, he's heartbroken obviously he doesn't want to hang out - and making sure he's either ordered dinner or put together the pre-prepped meals Pete gets delivered from a variety of different services so nobody notices he's going through twice as much food as he should, and has it ready and waiting on the table for when Pete gets home. and maybe as a thank you Pete rails Way over the table too. just as a sign of gratitude, you know.
okay I know we've talked about the polycule and kinks but all over the place so let's try and consolidate lol.
Winner likes it when people pay attention to him (obviously!!) but turns out he also gets a little hot when people ignore him completely. also he likes to use his height/size to his advantage (also just to be a little bit of a dick you know for fun) like instead of leaning down he'll make the other person go up on their toes.
do you think Winner's into being gagged. I don't think he's into being tied up but he can certainly appreciate it when someone else is EVEN THOUGH it means they can't touch him back. thought about humiliation but does Winner have the ability to feel that.
is giving blowjobs a kink because it's like Dean's favourite thing (consider the different ways the other three treat him when he's on his knees <- I have thoughts but this is already so long lol) aside from the OBVIOUS FROM SPACE praise kink. <- genuinely my brain derailed for a bit here thinking about Dean's praise kink I'm coming back now I'm normal. Dean would also be down to be a hot rich housewife I think as long as everyone tells him how pretty he looks and how well he did whatever housework.
Kenta ALSO has a praise kink and - as you have delightfully talked about - very much enjoys being tied up. more than anything Kenta likes doing a Good Job and being told he's doing a good job. also. body worship but they have to walk a fine line and not lean into objectification. also I think Kenta should pick Kim up. maybe while Kenta's wearing pretty lingerie and his collar!
Kim likes to collar all his boys!! and they love it too. we love gentle dom Kim 😌 who sometimes likes to just get wrecked as well. he likes to take care of his boys! I still very much enjoy the headcanon that he demonstrates that it's okay to like something by having it done for him first. he likes tying people up and driving them out of their minds with how good they feel.
all four of them are stupidly possessive over each other idk if it's a kink so much as they're all just a little unhinged. well it's a kink if they're Into It I guess and for suuuure at least one of them is.
uhhh also since Winner and Dean hooked up a bunch of times pre-canon in the bar bathroom the first few times they sleep together sober feels kinky. okay I'm stopping now.
first of all i'm obviously seconding everything we've talked about before
yes, i think the whole world is aware of charlie and babe's kinks by now ^^
oh north and sonic absoLUTELY have a cam kink. north probably goes through ten levels of crisis wondering if it's okay to jack off to a picture of your bro in lingerie except he can't STOP thinking about it. also i feel like north would be a crier.
ldfgdfg they WOULD be into experimentation just for the principle of it, but mostly they just want skin to skin contact and giggles and cute outfits
pete is 100% a service top and he spoils way both in the bedroom and outside of it, but i also think that further down the road, he would admit to wanting way to use his power on pete in the bedroom sometimes, just so he can stop having to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders.
i really need to see way in an apron and nothing but an apron if he can't cook he can be the dinner please and thanks
i think winner is maybe a little into being gagged. i feel like he runs his mouth so much he's asking for someone to shut him up. also i think he does experience humiliation, which is part of why he hates babe so much bc he doesn't know where to direct that energy. (edit: also i think winner would look great in a muzzle)
dean giving blowjobs and being told how pretty he looks and how good he's doing is probably his favorite thing in the world. i bet he'd have to goad kenta into being rough with him bc kenta would be so restrained unless he's properly pissed at dean
yes i think kenta should pick kim up and oh, sorry, my brain is derailing thinking about benz riding garfield. uh yeah anyways something something he's not allowed to come until kim does
kim deserves all the doggies 😌😌😌
the foundation of this ship in my mind was them being a little bit terrible and unbalanced. i just know dean is into getting down with strangers on the dance floor just so at least one of his boys can drag him off and mark him
"sober feels kinky" gdfgdfg FOR THEM IT WOULD LMFAO
also i think alan also has a praise kink and jeff loves to exploit this. he'd also be into cuffing alan's wrists to the bed. i can't picture alan suggesting anything that wasn't vanilla, but i feel like every single time jeff suggests trying something, alan is so absolutely into even just the thought of it.
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from-the-clouds · 1 year ago
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Word vomit incoming 😂
I started succession and i blame you 😂 and like this is the most unhinged show ive ever seen, i’m only 4 eps in but what i actually wanted to say is that this entire time i can not stop thinking about texas sun’s reader and how i kinda imagine her being a member of a similar family except everyone is as unhinged as in succession and she’s the closest one to being a normal human being. And just like i feel that at some point (if we ignore the outbreak and pretend they had more time) she has to have a conversation with joel about their family having a wealth consultant and i think thats just such a hilarious convo to have with someone and she’d think joel is gonna make fun of her and just like little snippets or similar plot here and there, like WHAT HAVE YOU DONE IM UNHINGED 😂😂😂😂
hahaha i LOVE FORCING PEOPLE TO WATCH THIS SHOW. it's so unhinged like i truly went into that show watching it thinking it was about one thing when it ended up being about a completely different thing.
so im lame and i like to fill out extensive character sheets before i start fics so i have THOUGHT about all these things you are talking about and if you're interested they are all below the cut. worldbuilding/backstories are genuinely one of my favorite parts of writing fic
so weirdly i think her life is somewhat inspired by succession but i also was really pulling from phoebe and holden caulfield from the book catcher in the rye (i was obsessed with it in high school). i always thought holden's sensitivity towards his little sister phoebe was really sweet and that's what made me write reader and her brother the way i did. BUT in general, pieces of media about rich people living in nyc will always have a lot of similarities.
i feel like her family is not nearly as rich or famous or as fucked up as the roys. like i wrote her dad as a criminal defense attorney, i could see him making headlines for taking on cases with a lot of media attention but she wouldn't have to worry about being in the public eye. i also don't think her dad forced her and her brother to compete with each other to be involved in the business or to get his approval -- a lot of the tension between her and her brother stems from how they both responded to their dad's abuse and neglect. her brother stuck around and tried to mend his relationship with their father, but she was like 'fuck this, im out'.
but the wealth consultant!!! lmao. i feel like joel definitely got hints that she was rich but she maybe never rubbed it in his face or she tried to (poorly) play it off. like her ass went to private school and played tennis i think he gets it. but i did imagine that she had cut herself off financially from her dad at that point, just to prove she could do it alone. BUT i still think her dad would've left her money after he died. and maybe that's when she'd be a little more forthcoming about the differences in their upbringings. he might've teased her for being kind of spoiled but i also feel like even though she was spoiled there were a lot of things she DIDNT get growing up. but yeah, he would've ultimately been fine with it because without the outbreak, he probably could've ended up being a stay at home dad 😂😂😂
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purplesurveys · 2 years ago
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1631
What brings out the worst in you? DEADLINES. The nearer I get to a deadline the more unhinged I become, lol. I just hate when things feel like a ticking time bomb; it brings out the worst of my anxiety, of the way I internally freak out, of my overthinking, etc.
What all did you eat today? I had aligue pasta and sweet potato fries. That’s all I had today thinking I’d be good for the rest of the day; but as soon as I got home and flopped down on my bed I realized just how hungry I am. I currently have a KFC order being prepared and will be delivered to me in about half an hour haha.
Some people were really destructive as a child, were you? I was a really calm kid. Too quiet – I was too shy to even ask permission to use the restroom most of the time. But I also think I was a very confused kid who wasn’t aware she was confused. I knew having relatives who would constantly smoke and drink enough to get violently drunk every night was not normal in a family; but I also did not know what would count as normal, happy family life if that makes sense? Who was the last person you were in a car with? My Grab driver, and Bea since we booked the same ride together.
Who was the last person you cried in front of? I don’t cry in front of other people. The only person I’ve ever done that around was my former partner, and I have not encountered her in years.
Do you talk about your feelings or hide them? Uhm, it really depends but for the most part I only ever open up to Angela. How much I open up otherwise depends on how close and comfortable I am with someone.
Who was the last person you were with that smelled REALLY good? Someone from work who happened to pass by me. Forgot who it was though.
Do you know anyone that is gothic? Nah, not really.
Have you seen UP? Just the first part. 
How is your mom? She is healthy and I’d like to think happy, which is all that matters (especially the former). I’m really looking forward to the time my dad can retire so they can finally be together for good; they’ve had to sacrifice quality time for like 95% of their entire marriage as my dad has worked abroad in the last 23 years.
What color hair does your mom have? Black. She never dyed it.
When was the last time you were told you were cute? Probably during our company Christmas party when I dressed up as Pooh. Cute isn’t necessarily a word people use with me.
Do you feel comfortable getting up and giving speeches? Depends on the context, I guess? I don’t mind speaking in front of a crowd; but if what I have to cover is a sensitive topic then obviously I’d be a little anxious.
Have you ever dipped french fries in a frosty? Not a Frosty per se but a hot fudge sundae, yeah.
Did you have school/class today? I had work, but today was a little different from my usual WFH days as I had two on-ground events so I had been out from 7 AM to 9 PM. 
Have you ever had your photo professionally taken? Yeah but it was never for funsies. It’s been either for grad shoots or for times I’ve needed to restock on 1x1 and 2x2 photos.
Would you prefer eating jello or pudding? Both sound...not fun LOL but uhhhh I would go with pudding I guess because I dislike the texture of jelly.
After washing your hair, do you put any products in it? Nah.
Last time you ate a salad? I had a really spicy tuna salad last weekend that I actually ended up backing out from.
Do you know how old your house is? Continued from last Wednesday. It turns 15 this year!
Have you ever been described as “adorable”? Yeah but it’s not a word typically used with me – like the only person who’s ever called me this was a significant other, lol.
Have you ever given a lap dance? Nope.
Are you a moody person? I can be but I try to avoid it as much as I can because fuck knows how much I hate it when people get so turbulently moody.
What are you listening to? Namjoon’s Change pt. 2.
What video game could you waste the most time on? In the Seom.
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corralinesage · 28 days ago
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Yess I've seen some cool horror games. Do you play on pc or console?
The only horror game I've played is resident evil (idk if it falls under horror??) That's sweet, I prefer to play alone because the minute someone watches me all semblance of normality leave me. Lmao
Also I can't believe I didn't mention this before but in 'Take me home for Christmas' when Nat and R are playing 21 questions and they're talking about their types and R says "I have a thing for noses" I felt so seen! Finally someone who gets it. Noses are so 😫. If you don't mind me asking, how did you come up with the idea for that fic? 🤔
yess I love cakes and cookies as well. I second to being a bit of a snob 😭. Like what do you mean I have to share my birthday cake, it's my birthday haha. Maybe thats why I enjoy watching baking/cooking shows. Do you prefer movies or tv shows?
My brother’s PC that he built himself but I’ve also played most consoles cause he’s got a bunch 😫yes resident evils do fall under the category. I’ve only played the fifth and I quit cause I got too scared (I can’t aim for shit so I have no defense). HAHA no that’s so real I become the most unhinged version of myself when ppl watch me play and it’s exactly why my brother makes me play stuff😭
ahaha oh yes🫠 I feel like noses can be so underrated but they really make a huge difference in the way people look. I’m so glad it made you feel seen<3
I genuinely don’t even remember anymore. I had the first chapter (or a part of it) written in September of last year and then didn’t touch it or think about it until end of November when I started panicking abt the fact that I have no plot😭 the idea for the first chapter came randomly to me I have no recollection of it hahahaha but I liked it enough to hold on to it. Then I kind of brainstormed ideas and thought abt what I’d wanna do with it and where I want it to go, and somewhere along the way I realized I’ve never written fake dating and I decided that it was perfect for the Christmas season. Then it kind of came together on its own after finding the “framework” for the story.
Hahah yes🫠 I’m also so picky with stuff cause I like quality over quantity and I bake obsessively 😭 I love watching recipe videos but currently I don’t watch much of anything. I do prefer shows over movies but I haven’t watched anything in a long while and I usually end up watching my comfort shows instead of anything new. What about you?
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brummiereader · 1 year ago
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What an incredible chapter Reb 👏😍! This was a rollercoaster of emotions from start to finish and by the end I swear I stopped breathing 😯! Arghhhh REB!! My heart was beating so fast in the last scene, it nearly happened 😩! But Tommy was a true gentleman ❤️.
I loved the flashback between Nina and her cousins, their close relationship is honestly the sweetest thing ever. It's interesting to read Ninas thoughts on the war, that girl is wise beyond her years. And even though you wrote in your notes that Nina was naive as a young teen about certain things she definitely isn't on others, and that's what I love most about her ❤️. And it definitely feels natural and normal for her to be like that in the times they were living. Now for the bastard.....Stefano Stefano Stefano....😡. It all makes sense now. God he's vile, even from a young age he was disgusting. I started to feel really nervous for her in that scene, the way he was luring her in made my skin crawl. Nina may have been a naive young teen but she was smart enough to carry a knife 👏.
Aww Tommy and Nina are still enjoying their late night talks ❤️. There is something so special about this moment they keep aside for eachother every day. They may not be openly saying it but it's almost like a little date 😉. Pietro and Salvatore feel very similar to Tommy and Arthur, I love that mirroring of the brothers. “Yes, I do like horses.” Ahh no, don't get him started 😂, our horse girly one stop once someone asks him about his first love 🤭. "You know, I’ve got horses, I could teach you how to ride one,” he proposed, the words escaping his mouth before he could think about what he was saying. Then he realised, and he paused for a moment. He wouldn’t get to teach her" Reb!!...what are you doing to us😩. I'm rooting for these two so much ❤️.
I remember your little snippet from the next scene! Urghh, I feel a little sorry for her cousin, she can clearly tell Tommy's not really into her, and I wonder if she herself feels anything for him or is just going along with what is expected or her 😬. I think it's fair to say someone else has captured our blue eyed man's attention.
😡😡 arghh!! Throughout the following scene I was fuming, steam coming out my ears kinda fuming. I wanna kill that disgusting pig. I just knew he would be back one day. He's almost made it a mission to get his way with her, it's truly vile. The way he talks to her likes he's oblivious to everything in the past is scary, he's clearly unhinged and has gotten away with his sick crimes for far too long. dark!Stefano can be thrown in with the rest of those dark degenerates 😡. I was just waiting for Tommy to appear and he did!! I do not even want to imagine what would have happened if Tommy had done something to him, he would have started a full on "Godfather" style mob war 😳. I really have a feeling we're not going to see the the end of this. Stefano thinks this is one big game, but I'm hoping he gets a quick reality check (preferably at the end of a gun or knife ) when it comes to messing with a Peaky Blinders 😏.
Reb...these two last scenes 😭❤️!! I actually felt relief when Nina gave in and fell into Tommy's arm's, urgh my heart ❤️. He was so sweet and tender with her, he just wanted to reassure her and let he know she was safe and she let him. The beautiful and I mean BEAUTIFUL scene to follow was absolutely incredible . Well done hun! I really appreciate how you describe Tommy feeling in that moment all the small details you added, touch, feel, smell...you could literally read him falling in love with her getting intoxicated by her, it was stunning. I put my hand up 🖐️, I wanted them to kiss. I've been impatiently waiting for that very moment, but what you did instead was not only so tender but true to how a man would be that not only loves someone but respects them. And Tommy respects Nina ❤️. Tommy got up and walked to the door, ignoring the invisible string that was pulling him in the opposite direction beautiful line hun 😍. I'm so eager to see what will happen after this. Will Nina put her wall back up, taking Tommy's rejection the wrong way or will these two finally admit their feelings for eachother 🤔? I can't wait to find out! Incredible chapter to this amazing series ❤️.
Heart, Body and Soul || Tommy Shelby x OC
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PART V
Summary: As they get closer, Tommy and Nina start to realise that their time together is limited. However, an unexpected event makes the tables turn.
Warnings: mentions of arranged marriage, slow-burn, small age-gap (Tommy’s 30, Nina is in her early 20s), time-typical misogyny, mentions of war, mentions of mutilation, this chapter contains triggering themes, such as sexual assault and violence. Read at your own risk.
A/N: I hope this is worth the wait! Useful information: in the first part of this chapter Nina is 17. She’s depicted as naive, maybe a bit too much for a seventeen-year-old, but bear in mind that she grew up in an extremely conservative environment. Also, I wrote all the dialogues in English because it would’ve been too much of a mess to switch between the languages, so keep in mind that whilst the dialogues between Nina and Agnese could be in both languages since they’re bilingual, the ones between Nina and Stefano are technically in Italian. Last, some things from the previous chapters are really important for this one. I do not claim any ownership to the dialogues excerpts taken from the show. English is not my first language.
After this way too long note, I hope you enjoy this chapter☀️
PREVIOUS PART
SERIES MASTERLIST
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1915, five years earlier
“They say Italy might join the war soon.”
It was the first time Nina voiced her concerns. She always had the feeling that if she expressed what was troubling her out loud, it would inevitably, irrevocably become true. But she had been bottling up that fear of hers for weeks now, and it had been growing and growing, consuming her from the inside. The weight of the basket she was carrying was nothing compared to the weight of uncertainty, of not knowing what to expect.
“They say that at your school?” Agnese asked absentmindedly, looking in the windows of the small bakery they always used to stop by when they were children, because they knew the owner would give them freshly baked biscuits for free.
“They say that everywhere,” Nina murmured, kicking a stone with her foot.
Agnese had heard about that possibility, and it scared her as well, but she didn’t fully understand the extent of the seriousness of the situation. No one ever bothered to explain it to her, and every time she asked questions about it, her family would just brush it off. She shouldn’t trouble herself with such nonsense, they said. And although she could ask Nina, she never found the courage to do it, far too ashamed of her own ignorance. Her cousin knew lots of things, talked about serious matters, had opinions that contrasted with everything they had ever been taught, and most of the times Agnese had troubles following the things she said. But she said them with such conviction, such mastery that she couldn’t help but agree with her. And she suspected that the reason why no one ever listened to Nina was because they had troubles following her as well. There was something unsettling in her cleverness.
“I’m worried about my brothers,” Nina admitted. “They’re old enough to be enlisted.”
Agnese shifted her attention back on her cousin, sending her a sympathetic look. “Maybe we won’t enter the war. And even if we do, maybe they won’t have to go. Your father can find a way to-”
“They’re not cowards,” Nina interrupted her with resolution, shaking her head. “The Spinietta brothers are cowards. Pietro and Salvatore are not like them.”
“What do the Spiniettas have to do with it?”
“I heard my father say that if we join the war, Mr. Spinietta already knows who to talk to to make sure his kids are not enlisted. He’ll shake a few hands, make a few threats, and they will be safe and warm in their houses. He might even send them to America, they have relatives there.”
Truth was, Nina wished they’d be sent to America. She wanted them to be as far away as possible from her, from the village. They walked around as if they owned every street, every shop, every person; as if everything was owed to them, because they had money and power. But everybody knew where that money came from. And even though she was aware that her family wasn’t any different, that their own money was mostly blood money, she still believed that her brothers were better than them.
“They’re cowards. Cowards and bastards, that’s what they are,” she gritted her teeth.
“You can’t say things like that,” Agnese hissed with wide eyes, frantically looking around to make sure no one was there to hear her. “Lower your voice.”
“I’m just telling the truth. They’re bastards. Sick bastards. You’ve seen how they’ve dragged that poor girl in their car, last week.”
Nina watched as her cousin pressed her lips together, avoiding her gaze. The episode had left both of them with a bitter taste in their mouths, and a feeling of powerlessness that haunted them still. They didn’t know why they had done what they had done, what they would do to her, but somehow they knew it wouldn’t be anything good. Because despite the kind smiles they were wearing and the false gentleness with which they had guided her into the car, it was clear that they were forcing her. The two cousins heard some girls say that she wasn’t the first, and probably wouldn’t be the last, and that the reason why they targeted her was because she had no father nor brothers.
Everyday since that day, Nina cursed herself for not intervening. Would things have gone differently, if she had said something? Would she have been in trouble as well? What kind of trouble was that girl even in? She didn’t have the answers.
Now she carried a pocket knife with her. If they even tried to get close to her, or to another girl in her presence, she wouldn’t be afraid to use it.
“You still can’t say things like that.”
“It’s not like they can do anything,” Nina shrugged.
There was a delicate balance between the families, assured by mutual fear and by the possibility of a bloodbath that wouldn’t suit anyone. But even that wasn’t enough to guarantee peace, one wrong step was all it would take to disrupt that balance. It was like a bomb waiting to explode.
“I need to buy some thread for my mum,” Agnese changed the subject, stopping in front of a shop. “Wait for me here.”
As her cousin disappeared into the shop, Nina placed the heavy basked on the ground to clench and unclench her sore hand. She slightly rubbed the red marks which were appearing on her palm, wincing at the pulsating sensation. The rev of an engine came to her ears, and before her mind could register what was happening, a car stopped in front of her. Stefano Spinietta stuck his head out of the window and sent her a smile, showing a perfect set of white teeth. “You want a ride home?”
Nina frowned, trying to suppress the feeling of disgust that came over her at the mere sight of his face. “No.” She said firmly, the lump in her throat preventing her from saying anything else. She had always hated how nervous she was when he spoke to her, when he looked at her. He always looked at her as if he wanted something from her. What it was, she could not tell, but it made her feel incredibly uneasy. His handsome features and immaculate manners didn’t fool her.
“Don’t worry, I don’t bite,” he taunted her, getting out of the car. “Let me help you with that.” Stefano reached his hand towards the basket, but before he could take it, Nina pushed it away with her foot. A glimmer of amusement flashed through his eyes, lighting up his face.
Her hand went to her pocket, and she clutched the small knife tightly, the weapon giving her a new found sense of security. She looked right into his eyes, and spoke enunciating each word carefully. “I said no.”
“I just wanna take you home,” Stefano insisted, his stupid smile still plastered on his face. “C’mon, get in the car.” He took ahold of her arm, slightly squeezing it as if he wanted to reassure her.
A wave of uncontrollable rage coursed through Nina, and in a matter of seconds she had him pushed against his car, her blade grazing his throat. Surprise spread across his features as he looked down at her.
“Touch me again,” she said through gritted teeth, “and I’ll cut your throat.”
Silence fell between them as they glared at each other in an unspoken competition, both of them waiting for the other to cave in. Nina forced herself to keep her burning gaze on him, while every muscle in her body urged her to run away. Instead, she didn’t move, head high, hand steady. She wouldn’t bend. She couldn’t bend. Stefano slowly held his hands up in surrender, the shadow of a grin playing at the corners of his mouth. Under her confused look, he slightly leaned forward, causing the blade to pierce his skin, and a trickle of blood seeped from the small wound, red, thick. It ran all the way down to Nina’s hand, and its slimy texture almost made her flinch. Stefano, on the other hand, had regained his composure, as if he was the one in control of the situation, as if he didn’t have a knife pointed at his throat.
“I’m sorry,” he breathed out, staring at her with an indecipherable look in his eyes.
Nina hesitated for a moment, then, with a swift movement, she took a step back and placed the knife back in her pocket, suddenly aware that she had held her breath the whole time. Stefano sent her one last glance, before turning around and going back in his car without saying another word.
As he drove away, she glanced down at the crimson stain on her hand with wide eyes, her heart thumping in her chest. When Agnese walked out of the shop, unaware of what had just happened, she closed her shaking fingers in a fist, and hid her hand into her pocket.
“What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” her cousin chuckled, looping her arm though hers. “Let’s go home.”
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Present day
“I swear to God, I swear to God…she gave me sixpence. She sends me to the shop for margarine, eggs and bread. When I came back…”
“With a top hat and a coconut,” Nina shook her head, a laugh escaping her lips.
“And that was all the money we had for the whole fucking week,” Tommy stopped to lit his cigarette, then he raised his eyebrows, a smirk growing on his face. “And me mum beat me with a fucking frying pan.”
“Why the hell did you buy a top hat and a coconut?”
“‘Cause I thought she deserved it. I thought we all did. And I could never understand,” he hit his hand on the table, a hint of some old anger creeping into his voice, “why people like us only had bread and fucking lard. And I wanted to be different. That’s what I wanted.” Silence fell between them as he took a drag from his cigarette, his gaze getting lost in old memories.
Their late-night chats had become a habit now. The night after the first one, for some reason, Nina went downstairs to make herself a cup of tea, and, for the same unknown reason, Tommy went into the kitchen with a dry throat. Just like every night since then. They stayed up late, sharing thoughts, doubts and memories, whispering them into the night and letting it take them away. Over the past week, Nina had come to realise that there was way more than Tommy let on behind his stoic facade, and she found herself wishing to know more. As for Tommy, he liked hearing her talk. She had something to say, and she wasn’t afraid to say it. It was refreshing, and a nice change from the hordes of people who repeated somebody else’s words like parrots, without fully understanding their meaning.
“And you are different, aren’t you?”
The depth of Nina’s eyes became too much to bear. For the first time, Tommy suddenly felt exposed. It was as if she was reading right into him, as if she had him completely figured out, as if every thought, every fear, every unspoken word was no longer a secret. It scared him.
He cleared his throat, stomping out his cigarette. “I heard your brothers also fought in the war.”
“Yes,” she nodded. “They were at Caporetto.”
Pietro and Salvatore still bore the marks of that defeat, both physical and mental. Pietro, the older one, had almost lost an arm in combat, and even though two years had passed, sometimes it still hurt. But in exchange for the arm, the war took something else away from him. There seemed to be nothing left of his once caring nature, and his innate attention for details had turned into a urge to have everything under control. As for Salvatore, the war had enhanced the restlessness that had always distinguished him. He was angry, easily triggered, spiteful. And now he had a deep scar which crossed the left side of his face, making his expression appear even more grim. However, in Nina’s eyes, Pietro was still the boy who fought for her to keep on going to school, just like Salvatore was still the playful kid who took advantage of their size difference to sweep her off her feet and spin her around. But they were not those kids anymore. A line was drawn between Nina and her brothers, and that line became a breach, and that breach had continued to open up until an abyss yawned beneath their feet.
Nina took a sip from her cup of tea, sensing that it might be time to change the subject. The war was clearly a sore point for both of them, although for different reasons. “Agnese told me you like horses,” she sat up straight in her chair, her gaze lighting up with curiosity.
“Yes, I do like horses.”
“When I was a child I wanted to learn how to ride. I even asked my father to buy me a horse for my birthday,” she reminisced, a small laugh escaping her lips. “My mum threatened to leave for good if he ever dared to come home with a horse.”
“So you didn’t get the horse.”
“I didn’t get the horse.”
“You know, I’ve got horses, I could teach you how to ride one,” he proposed, the words escaping his mouth before he could think about what he was saying. Then he realised, and he paused for a moment. He wouldn’t get to teach her. A faint, bitter smile appeared on his lips. “I mean, when you come to Birmingham to visit your cousin.”
Nina couldn’t explain the strange effect his words had on her, the sharp stab of sadness that hit her right in her chest. She brushed off that feeling, telling herself it was just the thought of not seeing Agnese - her only friend and the only ally she had in that family - to cause it.
But Tommy recognised the stinging sensation that was rising up inside him, a sensation he had already felt before. A sensation he couldn’t admit, not even to himself.
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“How are things with Tommy?” Nina casually asked her cousin, struggling to hang a bedsheet on the clothesline to dry in the shared backyard.
A sly smile flickered on Agnese’s face as she glanced at the black-haired girl, keeping on folding the dry clothes. “You call him Tommy now?”
Her question made Nina’s movements come to a stop. She shut her eyes for a moment, cursing herself for letting the man’s name slip out of her mouth. She hadn’t told anyone about how she and Tommy were on better terms, about the frequent conversations that had brought them to that point. She had been extra careful not to show the slightest hint of friendliness towards him in public, for she knew people would talk. She couldn’t risk Agnese getting the wrong idea. “Only when he isn’t around,” she murmured, starting to hang the laundry again.
That wasn’t too far away from the truth, though. Although Tommy did call her by her first name, she didn’t remember ever doing the same with him. She didn’t call him Mr Shelby anymore, either. She just didn’t address him. For some reason, calling him by his name seemed too personal. It felt like crossing a line that was not supposed to be crossed.
“I almost thought you were starting to approve of him,” Agnese joked, letting out a small giggle.
Nina forced a laugh, shaking her head, and a sense of guilt rose inside her. She told herself it was just an innocent, white lie; those secret conversations didn’t mean anything. It wasn’t even a lie, just an omission of truth. A justified omission of truth.
Then why did she feel so bad?
Agnese fiddled with the necklace Tommy had given her, pondering her words. “He doesn’t seem to be…taken with me,” she revealed, a glimpse of worry shining in her green irises. “Don’t get me wrong, he’s a gentleman, and he’s been nothing but polite to me, but… I don’t think he likes me.”
“Agnese, are you joking?” Nina hung the last shirt, before turning towards her cousin. It pained her to see her like that. She was the most beautiful person she knew, inside and out, and she didn’t deserve anything less than being happy. “I’m sure he does. How couldn’t he?”
“What if he doesn’t love me?”
“Love will come with time,” Nina walked up to her to take her hands in hers with a reassuring smile. “Everything will turn out for the best. You have to believe that.”
She felt relieved as Agnese nodded, worry starting to fade from her expression. Truth be told, even Nina didn’t fully believe her own words. She couldn’t be sure that Tommy would grow to love her cousin, nor that they would have a happy marriage; she couldn’t be sure that the war that would follow with Sabini would end well for them. But she said what Agnese needed to hear, because she didn’t have the heart to to make her fears seem even more real.
“Thank you, Nina.” Agnese whispered, wrapping her arms around her. When Nina awkwardly returned the embrace, patting her on the back, her cousin couldn’t hold back a chuckle. It was no secret that Nina wasn’t big on physical affection, but for a few selected people - that she didn’t have the courage to push away - she brought herself to tolerate it. At least she tried.
“I need to help my mum with lunch,” the brown-haired girl said, breaking the hug to grab the basket full of dry clothes. “She’ll have my head if I don’t.”
“You’d better go, then.”
As Agnese walked back to her house, Nina finished hanging the laundry, humming a little song to herself. She tried to keep her mind busy with futile thoughts, like what Winston might be doing in that moment, what she would eat for lunch, which book she would start to read after finishing the one she was currently reading. She thought about anything and everything in order to keep her mind off Tommy, Agnese and their departure, off her father and what he had told her that day in his study, off the uncertainty about how her life would turn out. It was a nice day, and she didn’t want to plague herself with such worries. However, in the back of her mind, all of that was still present, poisoning even the nicest of thoughts.
When she turned around, the figure of a man leaning against the wall of the house made her flinch. Stefano Spinietta was standing there in silence, observing her, and she had to fight the urge to ask him how long he had been staring at her. “What are you doing here?” She frowned, collecting herself.
“Business meeting. Your father gave me permission to spend some time with you, while he talks with mine,” he explained, pushing himself away from the wall.
A scowl formed on Nina’s face, and a new wave of irritation ran through her, this time directed at her father. All that speech about him wanting her to make the decision for herself was, indeed, just speech. Words he had said to keep her nice and quiet as he indirectly pushed her down the path he had charted for her. “What makes you think I want to spend time with you?”
Stefano’s lips curled in his ever-present grin, as if he found great amusement in her reactions. But that was exactly the point, to some extent. It had become a game to him, some sort of dark, twisted game. The more she rejected him, the more stubborn he became. Something that had started years ago as a mere interest, had slowly taken a different turn. He wanted her, he had been wanting her since she had drawn a knife at his throat. She was carved under his skin just like the scar her blade had left on his neck. There was something about her. Maybe it was her defiance, her refusal to bend, to mould herself into what she should be. He could make her. He could smother the flames of her fierceness and turn her into a quiet pretty thing. “Why do you always have to be so hostile?” He asked her, squinting his eyes.
His question made Nina’s annoyance grow even more. As if he had no clue of how much he had pestered her all those years. Now he had the courage to act all innocent, to play the part of the nice, polite guy who was just courting a girl he liked. He might’ve fooled everyone with that act, but he had never fooled her. “You asked my father his blessing to marry me.” She snapped, taking some steps in his direction. “Did you really think he’d say yes?”
“He never said no.”
“I did.”
Silence fell between them as they stared at each other, once again refusing to be the first to cave in. But this time it didn’t take Nina any effort to keep her eyes on him. She wasn’t a naive seventeen-year-old anymore. Now she knew what it was that he wanted from her. And his gaze didn’t intimidate her anymore.
“Listen to me, Stefano, and listen to me carefully, because I’m not going to repeat myself,” she said in a low voice, coming even closer to him. “You disgust me. You and all your kind,” she spelled out, making sure to emphasise each word. “And I’d much rather jump in front of a train than marrying you.”
Stefano didn’t say anything, at first. He just clenched his jaw, and his hands balled into fists by his side. Then he broke into a half-smile, one that didn’t reach his eyes, trying not to let his wounded ego show. “I’ve been nice to you, and yet you keep on insulting me.”
This time it was him who got closer, towering over Nina. His eyes darkened, and he looked at her with such contempt that for a moment she had the impression he might hit her. With a quick, sudden movement, he grasped her jaw, and before she had the time to react, he turned to push her against the wall. She looked up at him, trying not to show an ounce of fear as her heart increased its speed.
“My patience has limits. And you shouldn’t forget who you’re talking to,” Stefano gritted out through clenched teeth, digging his fingers in her cheeks. His whole body shook with anger, and the mask of politeness he always hid behind began to fall apart. “You’re playing with fire.”
The same uncontrollable rage that years ago gave Nina the courage to point a knife at him now gave her the strength to stomp on his foot, making him hiss and take a step back. Taking advantage of his distraction, she darted forward, but as soon as he tried to escape, Stefano forcefully slammed her against the wall again, holding her in place by the throat. A sharp sting of pain flashed through her spine at the impact with the cold surface, and a whimper escaped her lips as the air was knocked out of her lungs. Fury flared in Stefano’s dark eyes, but then something changed in his expression. His pupils dilated, and he seemed to lose any kind of control over his actions as his hand left her throat to slowly wander down her body.
An overwhelming sense of panic started to rise inside Nina. She wriggled, trying to free herself from his grasp. “Stop,” she raised her voice, but Stefano promptly covered her mouth with the other hand, pressing his body against hers. She squeezed her eyelids shut when his hand became more insistent, squeezing her small breast in a painful hold, then travelling down to her hipbone to keep her still with bruising force. His hot breath burned on her skin as he leaned over her, bringing his face closer to hers. Nina tried to turn her head in response, but the hand he still had on her mouth wouldn’t allow it. She emitted a muffled sound, bringing her hands to his chest to push him away, but he was too strong, and twice her size. All her desperate efforts to put some space between them were useless. He was a rabid animal, a wild beast devoid of any rational thinking as he ground against her, trying to slide his filthy hand under her skirt. Nina’s face scrunched in disgust, and her whole body stiffened under this touch. A whirlwind of thoughts swirled around in her head, endless, confusing, as if she couldn’t exactly register what was happening.
Then he stopped. Much to Nina’s surprise, Stefano suddenly seemed to come to himself, and he took his hand off her mouth. But there wasn’t a hint of guilt, or regret, in his eyes. On the contrary, he looked almost satisfied. And then she realised. He had been in command of his actions the whole time. “What, you don’t talk anymore?” He asked provocatively.
Nina’s wide eyes rested on Stefano in shock. The lump in her throat kept on growing and growing, making it impossible for her to utter a single sentence. She swallowed, trying to regain some kind of control over her emotions, to force herself to speak, and when she did, she faked a confident tone. However, the trembling in her voice betrayed her fear. “Once my family hears about this, you’ll-”
“I didn’t do anything you didn’t want, love,” he interrupted her, furrowing his brows, his face assuming a perplexed expression.
“What…” she batted her eyelashes in confusion, her voice barely above a whisper. “No, I didn’t...” the words died in her throat as the awareness of his implications started to set in.
Stefano leaned in, bringing his hand to her cheek to caress it with fake tenderness, and a terrible smile made its way on his face. “Who do you think they’ll believe?”
Nina shook her head, a feeling of helplessness she had never felt before taking over her. She just wanted him to leave. She wanted him to take his hands off of her. She wanted to kick him, to scream at him, to dig her nails in his face deeply enough to make him bleed, and yet all she could do was look at him in silence.
But then someone must’ve heard her prayers, because Stefano was abruptly pulled away from her. It was as if some kind of supernatural gust of wind had ripped him away from her body, freeing her from the heavy weight that had her pressed against the stone surface. Except that it wasn’t some supernatural force. The person who had grabbed Stefano by the collar of his shirt was very much human.
“The fuck are you doing?” Tommy growled, his knuckles turning white from the tight grip he had on the man. Stefano, not understanding a word he had said, just raised his hands, as if to show that he meant no harm.
Tommy had recognised the guy. He was the one they had met two weeks ago in the city, the one who had given him a bad feeling as soon as they had met. He couldn’t explain the pure rage he had felt when he caught him holding Nina against a wall. Her scared, helpless expression was all it took for him to see red and launch at the Italian man. The thought of what could’ve happened if the meeting with the Ferrantes and the Spiniettas had finished just a bit too late made his skin crawl. Still holding him by the collar, Tommy raised his fist, driven by the sudden urge to break his nose, but before he could land the blow, Nina’s voice stopped him.
“Don’t!” She exclaimed, causing him to look in her direction. “He’s Spinietta’s son,” she frantically explained, getting a bit closer, but still keeping herself at safe distance.
Tommy shifted his eyes on the Italian man again, his fist still in the air, and pondered for a few seconds. Although Stefano couldn’t understand Nina’s words, he probably had a vague idea of what she had said, because the corners of his lips tugged upwards as he stared at Tommy steadily. Nina held her breath, her heart skipping a beat at the Italian’s implicit provocation. Tommy was really close to doing something that might put him in a dangerous situation, and it seemed like Stefano was doing everything in his power to encourage him. It was part of his fun, of his sick little game.
Feeling his hands itch even more, Tommy charged again, nostrils flaring, almost letting his impulse win. Fuck Spinietta, he thought to himself. But he was not in Small Heath. Begrudgingly, he lowered his hand and let the guy go with a violent push, making him stumble backwards. “Fuck off,” he snarled, pointing towards the path that led to the main garden to get his message across.
Nina sighed in relief, and she wasn’t sure whether it was because Tommy had made the right choice, or because that situation was over. Stefano took the time to straighten his shirt with unsettling composure. Without saying another word and keeping on watching them, he walked past them, his wicked eyes shining with amusement.
The adrenaline started to wear off, leaving Nina in a growing state of dizziness. The panic, the disgust, the anger. All of that became a single, indistinct mass aiming to engulf her and suffocate her. Her ears started to ring, and she had to fight the instinct to cover them and scream at the top of her lungs.
“Are you alright?” Tommy’s voice came to her ears, snapping her out of her trance.
“Yes.” She nodded, blinking a few times. Now aware of her surroundings, she felt as if she was re-entering her body after rising out of it, and the reality of what had happened was crashing on her. Bile raised in her throat, and she knew that if she had had something in her stomach, she would’ve thrown up. “Yes I’m alright.”
“Nina, you’re shaking,” Tommy noted with a hint of worry in his voice, his own heart still racing in his chest.
“No, no I’m fine,” she insisted, turning her face to hide the tears welling up in her eyes. She tightly crossed her arms over her chest, hoping that her hands would stop trembling. “It’s fine.”
“It’s not fine.” He shook his head, tentatively reaching out to hear. He was approaching her slowly, almost with apprehension, with his palm open, like one would do with a scared stray cat. “Come here.”
Nina hesitated for a while, torn between what she needed and what she was supposed to do, instinct and reason endlessly fighting. For once, she chose to act without thinking. Cautiously, she pulled Tommy into a hug, resting her head against his chest. Hit by an implacable wave of tenderness, he gently wrapped his arms around her, placing his chin on the top of her head. It didn’t make sense, but having her safe in his arms brought him a sense of calmness and security, and his tense body began to relax.
The warmth of his body, his scent, the reassuring sound of his heartbeat, the unfamiliar softness he was showing her; the combination between all of that gave life to a feeling Nina had never felt before, and she couldn’t put a name to it. Between all of that, she was relieved by the awareness that, at least for that moment, she didn’t need to be strong. Tears began to spill out, and her facade fell for the first time.
When a suffocated sob escaped her lips, shaking her slender shoulders, Tommy’s heart painfully clenched in his chest. His hand found the back of her head, and he started to soothingly run his fingers through her soft dark hair. He wanted to say something, but he knew that there was nothing he could say that would make it better. So he held her tighter, as if he could shield her from harm with the sole strength of his arms.
“Breathe, love,” he whispered when he noticed that, in an attempt to hold back her sobs, she had tensed up a bit too much. “Breathe.”
Nina took a deep breath, focusing on Tommy’s deep voice and the delicate motion of his fingers through her hair.
“There you go,” he murmured encouragingly, feeling her calm down against him. She sniffled, snuggling even closer, and, once again, Tommy was overwhelmed by the need to protect her.
They couldn’t care less if someone saw them. In that moment, their embrace was the only thing that mattered.
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Laying on her side with her knees drawn up, Nina stared at the shadows created by the small lamp on her bedside table. She could still feel the heaviness of Stefano’s hands on her, the burning of his hot breath on her skin, the suffocating smell of his cologne. She only wanted to get rid of those hands, that breath, that smell. She would gladly rip off her whole skin if it meant to forget.
She hated herself for allowing him to make her feel small, weak, for he had made it quite clear that was what he wanted. Because even though for a moment he had indulged in the temptation, he wouldn’t actually dare go through with it, not in her house. His purpose was to show her that he could overpower her at any time.
But then came feeling of being wrapped in Tommy’s arms, of being pressed against his strong frame, the feeling she had been desperately trying to give a name to. Until it occurred to her. Safe. She had felt safe.
A soft knock on the door of her bedroom pulled her out of the vortex of thoughts. She sat up on the bed, crossing her legs beneath her. “Come in,” she said, but her voice was so feeble that she doubted the person on the other side had heard her. Still, the door opened, and in the dim, warm light, Tommy’s figure appeared on the doorstep.
He had never been in her room, but somehow it was exactly like he had imagined it. Ivory-coloured walls covered in a pattern of small flowers, dark wooden furniture, lace curtains. Handwritten sheets of paper scattered all over the desk, along with pens and pencils. It was bit messy and full of books, and it smelled like her. A mixture of lavender and honey.
When that night Tommy had come out of his room, the first thing he noticed was the unsettling silence. No rattle of pots coming from downstairs. But a half-light shone through Nina’s bedroom door, and he found himself desperately needing to know how she was. She had been avoiding everyone the whole day.
“I just wanted to check up on you,” his deep voice came out in a low sound, and it held some kind of uncertainty. He wasn’t sure that going to her had been a good idea. Maybe she didn’t want to see him, maybe knocking on her door was too much.
His doubts faded when the ghost of a smile formed on her face, and she motioned for him to come in. He carefully closed the door behind him, then went to sit on the edge of the bed, keeping his distance. A vice-like grip held his stomach when he noticed her puffy eyes and red cheeks. How many times had she cried?
“You’re paler than usual,” Nina teased him to ease the tension, but her voice didn’t hold the bantering tone he had grown used to hear. “You should get some sleep.”
Tommy half-smiled, shifting his gaze on the floor for a moment. But instead of spitting out a retort - contrary to Nina’s expectations - he just nodded. “You’re right,” he conceded.
A sigh escaped Nina’s lips, and she nervously fiddled with her own fingers. He was walking on eggshells, and she didn’t like it, not even a bit. “Please, stop treating me like that.”
“Like what?” He furrowed, looking at her again.
“Like I might break at any moment.”
Tommy said nothing. He could see why she didn’t want to be treated any differently, but she did look like she would break. Not once had she shown a single shred of vulnerability until that day, and it was disarming. Truth was, he didn’t know how to act.
“I’ll forget it ever happened,” she spoke again, this time with resolution, but she didn’t sound fully convinced of what she was saying. “And you should do the same. No one can know about it.”
“You should tell-”
“No,” she firmly interrupted him, Stefano’s veiled threat still echoing in her ears. “I can’t,” she continued, her voice becoming softer.
Tommy suddenly remembered what she told him a week earlier at the beach, and everything became clear. It was all it took to make his blood boil again. The room went quiet, but the silence was soon broken by a faint rustle of sheets, as Nina left her spot to sit closer to him. Honey and lavender filled his nostrils, and he had to restrain himself from inhaling deeply, eager to feel more. More than the light brushing of their arms, separated by the thin fabric of his undershirt. They were barely touching, and yet his skin burned. As hard as he tried to suffocate that feeling, to extinguish that fire, the flames kept on flaring, higher than before. He couldn’t fight it. She placed a hand on his shoulder, and that feather-like contact was enough to send sparks of electricity through his body. “Promise me,” she whispered, “you won’t tell anyone.”
Tommy turned to look at her, and the proximity allowed him to spot a small scratch on her cheek. Without thinking, he delicately ran his finger on it, and he was almost surprised by the feeling of her soft skin under his rough hand. Slowly, even hesitantly, his hand went to cup the side of her face, and he gently rubbed his thumb along her cheek. “I promise.”
Tommy’s hoarse voice, along with the warmth of his hand, sent shivers down Nina’s spine, and her pulse started to race. She couldn’t explain how the closeness of his strong body was making her feel, nor the effect his masculine scent had on her. Aftershave, cigarettes, and a hint of musk. And she couldn’t help but wonder: if she pressed further into him, if she let herself be held by him again, would it lift the weight off her chest? Would it take away the pain, the revulsion, the shame? Would his touch be enough to replace Stefano’s hands?
When he felt Nina unconsciously get closer, Tommy closed his eyes, drowning in her scent, and he could swear there was fire running through his veins. It was as if some unknown force was pulling him towards her, drawing him nearer, and when her soft lips brushed against his, his mind went blank. Every cell in his body was begging him to give in.
No. It wasn’t right.
Nina was vulnerable, too vulnerable, and probably unable to make any conscious decisions. He couldn’t take advantage of her like that. It took all his strength to move away and bring her in to press a kiss on her forehead instead. He lingered there for a few seconds, savouring the moment. When he let his hand fall from her face, the warmth left him, and it seemed to him that his fingers had sharply gotten cold.
Feeling her confused eyes following him, Tommy got up and walked to the door, ignoring the invisible string that was pulling him in the opposite direction. He couldn’t stay in that room any longer. If he did, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to restrain himself.
“Goodnight, Nina.”
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Tag list: @iamngoclinh08 @lilywinchesterlove @fandom-puff @capitanostella @caelys @lucillethings @peakyxtommy @queenofkings1212 @lyarr24 @kmc1989 @call-sign-shark @jomarch-wannabe
Heart, Body and Soul tag list: list: @zablife @queenofshinigamis @raincoffeeandfandoms @call-sign-shark @kmc1989 @babayaga67 @kmhappybunny240 @diorrfairy @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @gaslysainz @brummiereader
Tommy Shelby tag list: @50svibes
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feathered-serpents · 3 years ago
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YES OH MY GOD!!! martin has never really felt out of character to me in s5, i saw so many posts about it i was starting to think i was the only one. i’ve never thought of martin as the “🌸uwu tea boi🌸” even from the beginning he wasn’t like that. and in s5 there were times where he was unfair and understandably stressed out by ya know,,, the apocalypse and people constantly suffering but his actions never felt out of character
Edit: Tumblr what did you do the opening paragraph of this post??? Why is it merged with the second paragraph. I fixed it 
I’m going to use this as an excuse to go fully unhinged over Bad Jmart Takes of 2021. I've had these opinions for a very long time and have implied them over time but have never overtly said them, but now it's been one year since the show ended, the fandom is significantly quieter, and I've stopped fearing god so let's do this
The sweater-wearing soft-boy tea-making version of Martin is very cute and I do think based on some level of canon. It's a fun version to play with and there is nothing wrong with it... it's just not always Martin.
This got so long it warranted a read more so warning unhinged behavior below
The "side" of Martin that people say is OOC in season 5 was indeed always there and people actually seem to like it most of the time. In season 1 he burst into Jon's office and slammed the jar of worms on his desk, later he calls Jon out and does in fact raise his voice asking why he's so skeptical, in season 2 he snaps at Tim in the tunnels while looking for Jon, in season 3 he yells at Elias, in season 4 he's a designated bitch the whole time and yeah part of that was manipulating Peter Lukas but it still came from somewhere and also he was manipulating Peter Lukas.
This "side" of Martin was always there, it only became a problem when he and Jon became a couple and that part of Martin was in fact still there, and it wasn't just the sweet tea boy with an occasional spicy side that fanon decided he was. This is why while fanon is fun it's also lowkey a plague and will kill us all
And like Martin does do things I don't like in season 5, I don't like how he decided to "keep his apology" in 174, I have mixed feelings about him saying that he and Jon wouldn't have gotten together in a normal world but... none of those things are out of character for Martin to say. When you look at his character those things make sense, that's just the kind of person Martin is and he's not a perfect person
And I think this leads into a problem that is not at all exclusive to the Magnus fandom, but just fandom in general, and that is: Just because a character you like makes a decision you don't agree with or says something you don't like, does not make that decision out of character.
You know that one post that's like "The version of me you made in your head is not my problem?" that's also true in fiction. The version of the character you made in your head is not the story's problem.
I know I've said the same thing in three different ways in a row now but I just NEED that to be hammered home as hard as possible: IF A CHARACTER DOES OR SAYS SOMETHING YOU DON'T LIKE DOES NOT MEAN THEY ARE BEING OUT OF CHARACTER
Okay. I think I've talked about that long enough, but I'm not actually done
All of that is all well and good but that's actually not the part I thought I'd get skinned alive for. This is
You see a lot of these takes go hand and hand with another take, a Jon take. Sometimes these takes were used only to fuel this particular Jon take:
This portion of the fandom wanted to overly victimize and sometimes straight-up infantilize Jon's character.
In these takes, Jon can do no wrong since he is the fav, but a lot of wrong IS done in the show, it has to be someone's fault but god forbid it be Jon's. Since Martin is the one closest to him both emotionally and literally throughout the course of season 5 he's the most common target but you will notice these takes did go after literally everyone else in the cast.
I'm not saying they were doing this consciously, no one does this consciously, but that is what was happening. I find this doubly ironic because many of these takes will go after Georgie because she wanted Jon to be the perfect victim a flaw that is indeed in the text but then will turn around and fanonize Jon until he IS the perfect victim.
And like, the apocalypse was not Jon's fault. That take I absolutely agree with it was not Jon's fault, but... other things were. People DID suffer because of conscious choices Jon made, the most blatant example of this being knowingly feeding off the trauma of just random passerby. Something that Jon himself acknowledges was a bad thing to do and he could've stopped but didn't want to, yes he feels remorseful for it and it was definitely part of his self-destruction spiral but he still did it. That is still a thing he did.
Also, they will claim that Martin and the other characters were "stealing Jon's agency" while proceeding to discredit all agency Jon had in the story that was not morally good, which is a lot of it. I'm not saying Jon never had his agency stolen from him ever obvious he did MULTIPLE TIMES but but you cannot blame every bad thing he ever did on that, the man sometimes just made bad decisions, literally the entire case does that
Like I remember what I still consider to be the worst Magnus take I've ever seen, and it used 198 as its frame and talked about how Martin and Basira act when Jon falls down and is lying on the ground groaning and Basira is giving him a hard time about all the fuss he's making and Martin helps him up and says it passes quickly and that's about it
For full disclosure here is the scene:
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And I swear to god this was used to say that it was proof that everyone else's trauma is taken seriously and Jon's is not. Which still bluescreens my mind whenever I hear it and I just need others to see it and know that's a real take I saw
You take all this and you combine it with Jon being described as physically small, physically weak, descriptions I have used make no mistake, but when you put it all together with these other takes it reads as very very infantilizing to the point where it's a little uncomfortable.
Listen I think I'm gonna stop here I think I've typed enough and I still have a ton of actual real adult work to do. I don't know if this was coherent, this was a year's worth of rant pent up and released at once so I apologize if it's all over the place.
Remember, you do not have to agree with me here, this is my own opinion. I'm not trying to pick a fight, please remember the block button is literally right there I've used it on almost everyone who made the above takes you can use it on me it's fine I promise I do not have the energy for a fight just block me please I'm begging okay goodbye
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after-witch · 3 years ago
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Title: Holding Time [Yandere Fyodor Dostoevsky x Reader]
Title: Holding Time [Yandere Fyodor Dostoevsky x Reader]
Synopsis: How long have you been in the basement? How long would it take to starve to death? How long does it take for your lover’s corpse to decompose? 
Word Count: 1960
Notes: Yandere, kidnapped reader, graphic description of corpses, abuse, violence, injuries, starvation 
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Dripping. Something is dripping from somewhere--or some thing. The sound is too regular, too maddening, and your eyes dart around the basement to find the source. Not that you could do anything to stop it, with your hands chained to the wall.
It would normally be hard to see in the darkness of the basement, but Fyodor has kindly provided you with a light, hanging above the alcove against the wall just opposite where your chains were lodged. The light is warm and not over-whelming; the type of lighting you might read a book or have dinner under, if the circumstances were different.
Right now, that light is hanging just above the corpse of your boyfriend, a corpse artfully propped up against the wall in a mockery of a sitting stance.
Fyodor didn’t kill him in front of you. Which, you suppose, was meant to be a mercy. But your lover’s body was fresh when Fyodor dragged it down the basement, thumping thudding sounds which still echo in your ears, and you’ll never forget the sight of his lifeless corpse laid out in full view. You screamed and screamed and Fyodor simply watched, before pushing his corpse into a sitting position, right across from you.
“You can have a nice conversation with him now, just like you wanted.”
That was weeks ago. You think. And no, you didn’t have conversations with your lover’s decomposing corpse. But you sometimes talked to yourself. Just to hear something, anything, other than the skittering of mice and buzzing of insects (thanks to the shortness of your chains, you can’t even swat away the flies that land on you, crawling and itching) and the emptiness of the space around you.
You asked yourself if you did something to deserve all this.
You asked yourself if you should have done something different.
You ask yourself if it was stupid not to give in, not to force yourself to accept Fyodor’s advances, physical and otherwise, instead of screaming and biting and telling him you’d rather be dead than around him another second.
That’s when you first ended up in the basement, but that wasn’t the end of it--no, no. The end of it (maybe the end, you think, is there more? Is there more that he can do to you?) was a dead body thrust in front of you. The end of it was realizing that the person you loved most in the world, the person you imagined spending the rest of your life with, was no more. Their hopes and dreams and wishes and wants and needs? All gone. All nothing.
Just like you.
You still can’t decide if it was part of your punishment or if Fyodor would have killed him regardless of how you behaved. Maybe he would have stashed his body in a warehouse somewhere, sealing it with cement, never telling you the details but instead resting easy knowing that there was no real competition for your affection.
You’re not sure which would be worse--giving in to Fyodor’s sick demands and never knowing that your boyfriend had been murdered, or refusing and spending the weeks here, watching his body go from warm and red to stiff then big and bloating and now--now this, wasting away.
You wish your chains were longer. Then you could at least cover his face, so you didn’t have to see him staring at you, eyes white and glassy and unseeing, or his mouth gaping wide, flies and maggots sometimes making their presence known inside. Sometimes the mass of insects makes it look like his jaw, unhinged and slack, is moving--and you spend hours with your eyes closed, peeking only to see if the inhuman effect has ceased.
You can’t escape the smell of decay. Your chains aren’t even long enough to let you cover your mouth, your nose, and your forced to breathe it in every second. Disgustingly sweet and sour and strong, something you’ve never smelled before in your life but you know you will never forget it. All tinged with the smell of your waste which is, at least, mercifully contained in a wooden pail shoved up against the wall. Your legs are weaker and it’s harder to push yourself up using the backs of your elbows, but you manage.
There are few mercies in this basement, but the bucket is one of them, and you dare not complain about the odor lest it be taken away from you, too. Besides, it’s not as if you do more than piddle a meager amount most of the time, anyway. You haven’t had food in--you don’t know. Long enough that you don’t have regular bowel movements anymore. Long enough that the sharp piercing ache of hunger has turned into something altogether new, a deep, dull carving ache--starvation. He stopped bringing food once he brought your boyfriend, once he left you alone with a dead body and your thoughts.
Your water supply is low and inconsistent. Fyodor doesn’t come down into the basement at all anymore, actually, and you’re not even sure that he’s the one tossing the water bottles down the basement stairs.
Sometimes they reach your grasp, sometimes they don’t. On good days, the three bottles thrown down at regular intervals all get close enough that you can pull them to you using your legs or feet. On bad days, your tongue swells up and you swallow nothing but spit.
You don’t have a mirror or any way of seeing yourself, but you can guess that you’re not in the best shape. Your muscles feel weak and cramped. Your wrists are sore, stinging, and you can see the slightest hints of red underneath the cuffs attached to the chains on the wall. Probably an infection, from pulling on them until your wrists bled. Your side hurts all the time, a dull ache that won’t go away.
You haven’t bathed, of course, but the stink of your own unwashed body--the smell of staleness and sweat and body oil--is nothing compared to decay. The smell. The sight.
Does his family know he’s dead? Does your family think you’re dead? Nothing outside the basement feels real, nothing outside the basement feels important. Your world has shrunk down to the grim reality that you’re starving in an isolated space with only the company of pests and a corpse.
And your thoughts, which are sometimes the worst companion of all.
You think about lots of things. You think about your life before all this, how you took it all for granted, how Fyodor ruined everything. You think about your life before the basement, even, the uncertain anxiety of what he was going to do next as you cycled through being handcuffed to Fyodor’s bed, to the dining room table, to the side table next to the sofa.
You think about your hunger. God, you didn’t know hunger could feel like this. You didn’t know it was possible to be so empty, so desperate for the smallest amount of nourishment that sometimes you lick your skin for the salt, the sweat, for the taste of something in your mouth.
You think about your choices. You think about how you threatened him, how you promised him that he was going to get caught and your friends at the agency were going to severely fuck-him-up. You think about how he took all of this with a grim smile, how he smacked you across the face, how he wiped up the blood on your lip and kissed you afterwards.
You think about how he gave you chances, after each time, until finally you'd crossed some line and he dragged you unceremoniously to the basement and clicked on the too-tight cuffs.
Maybe leaving his body behind wasn’t a punishment. Maybe it was a lesson. Maybe it was a forewarning of your own fate: you’re going to die down here. Like him. And then you’ll be nothing but a corpse, a sack of flesh animated by the wiggling of insects infesting your insides.
The thought of dying like this brings a low, throbbing horror into your body. Your chest aches. Your throat aches. Everything aches. All the time. But especially when your thoughts race to the future, a future you won’t actually be alive to acknowledge.
But you don’t want to die. You don’t want to die like this, especially, slowly starving and withering and sitting a few inches away from a bucket of your waste.
But that’s what’s going to happen if this goes on much longer.
Fyodor didn’t say he was going to leave you here to die. You thought he’d keep you in the basement until you begged to be let out. And, truth be told, you would have done so already, if he kept coming to see you--but he stopped, and the only face you’ve seen in the past few weeks has been rotting away. He didn’t even give you the opportunity to fix yourself, to apologize, to beg for mercy. Or whatever it is he wanted out of you. Obedience? Amusement?
It doesn’t matter that it wouldn’t be genuine, it doesn’t matter that you hate him more than anything in the world. What matters is that he kidnapped you and killed people in the name of keeping you and destroyed your life in every way imaginable… and now he’s just leaving you to die without giving you a chance to fix it.
Like you’re nothing.
He probably wouldn’t want you now, anyway. You’re a shell of yourself, aren’t you? Your arms are weak and your muscles weaker; and your skin looks sallow and you’re sure, you’re sure, that if he saw your eyes, they would be as glassy and dead as the corpse across the way.
You’d messed up, you’d let yourself become a shadow, a slip, a wraith of a thing stuck in the basement until it finally dies and frees up his time to find someone new. Someone full of life and beauty and anything but the stubbornness you couldn’t let go of, the pride that refused to let you see it was a life or death situation. Life--with Fyodor, sitting on his lap and letting him kiss you and touch you and possess you. Death--well, you see what that is now, an unceremonious bloating and wasting away. Maggots and shit and stink.
And you chose death--didn’t you? Unwittingly, unknowingly, but you chose it all the same.
If you had a do-ever, you know you would choose life. You would grin and bear it. You would throw yourself into it, you would do everything in your power to stay in his good graces, to stay upstairs--where you would be clean and fed and sleep on sheets and never have to understand what it’s like for your lips to be so dry that they crack open and bleed. 
Maybe... maybe he didn’t even wait for your death to get someone new. You can hear sounds from upstairs, sometimes, undefined but surely there. Maybe he’s already got someone upstairs and they were smart enough to keep their mouth shut and their expressions neutral, pretending they weren’t horrified and disgusted by the person who ripped their life into pieces.
Maybe it was too late to beg on your hands and knees for forgiveness, for another chance. Too late to tell him that you were wrong and stupid and you want to be with him, upstairs, please, please, please.
And that’s what you say now, what your thoughts propel you to whisper into the stagnant basement air: Please. Please. Please. You say it so much that your throat hurts, you say it so much that you don’t know how much time has passed before there’s a sudden sound--a sudden light.
You jerk your head towards the light, the opening of the basement door at the top of the steps. The light hovers, murky, shimmering, like the sun viewed from underneath the water. The only sound now is the jingling of your chains, and then--
Footsteps, on the stairs descending.
One.
Two.
Three.
You hardly recognize your own voice when you cry out, wistful and hopeful and above all things, desperate.
“Fyodor?”
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trensu · 4 years ago
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Jon's Creeping Terror Fun Fact Corner!
You know how Cecil has his Fun Fact Science Corner segment on his radio show? Well, Jon has his own show produced by The Magnus Studio. It's an educational kids show all about the Entities of Fear!! It's a very specific kind of kids show. You know the ones. Those kids shows that children are absolutely mad for but any adult in their vicinity is left deeply unsettled by them? Yep. On the surface, the show seems fine but if any adult dwells on the content for more than five minutes, they are left feeling very very unnerved, especially since the host, one Jonathan Sims, seems more than a little unhinged half the time.
The show is so popular it gets almost 15 whole episodes! (It gets cancelled at 14 bc at that point it had received far too many retrospective complaints from parents to continue any further). Sometimes, the episodes even have special guests!! Although it got cancelled, you can obviously still find it on the internet if you know where to look. There's even compilations of all the show's best Unhinged moments.
--
The Vast Episode
Jon: Today's episode is about the Vast! And to tell us more about it we have Simon Fairchild visiting us. Kids, if you ever see this man in person, please run very far in the opposite direction.
Simon: Thank you for that warm introduction, Jon. Now children, who here likes ROLLER COASTERS?
Jon: And that's it for our special guest [proceeds to literally kick an old man until he's off screen] Do not trust this man and please be careful when going on roller coasters in the future.
--
The Lonely Episode
Jon, reading from the teleprompter: We have an expert of the Lonely with us, Mr. Peter Lu--what? No!! Why's he here? Get him off my set! What do you mean no? I don't care how much funding he gives the studio!! He tried to take Martin away!
[scene cuts off and starts back up with Martin sitting next to Jon, looking particularly sweet and cuddly in a knitted jumper]
Jon: Here we have m-my Martin, I-I mean my ASSISTANT Martin Blackwood. Say hi to Mr. Blackwood, children.
[Jon is a twitchy mess and cannot even look at Martin's direction. Martin looks flushed]
Martin: Er, yes, h-hello.
Jon: Martin has experience [this is hissed with all the venom he can muster] with the Lonely. He's going to teach us the best way to avoid that evil, conniving bast--
Martin, hastily cuts in: Yes, well! Kids, who do you have in your life that you love? It can be anyone! Your siblings, your pets, your friends! Anyone at all!
[at the edge of the set, just barely visible, Peter can be seen crammed into a cage gleefully guarded by Daisy]
(it's during this episode Jon finds out that he's not allowed to use naughty words on the show. All the stuff with the murder and the skinning and the worms and such is fine! Just no cussing. Jon is befuddled and aghast. This is why Hopworth was not allowed as a guest; he's a very swear-y man)
--
The Corruption Episode
[Jon is seen clutching a jar of ashes throughout the entire episode with absolutely no explanation as to what it is or why it's there]
Jon, gesturing manically: and that's why it's important to see a doctor when you're sick and have an exterminator on speed dial.
[Martin comes onto the scene with a worried look on his face. The screen goes to black for a moment, then reappears with Jon still clutching his jar but looking significantly calmer. He smiles at the camera and it almost looks normal]
Jon: To finish the episode, can you demonstrate the proper handwashing technique we taught you at the start? Be sure to tell your parents what you've learned about infection control and have them show you where the CO2 is kept in your home!
--
The Hunt Episode
Jon, earnestly happy: This is my best friend Daisy! She's going to help us learn about the Hunt. She's one of the bravest people I know.
[Daisy turns away to hide a shy smile before clearing her throat and starting in on a rehearsed lecture. The episode ends with her and Jon making the children repeat the "don't listen to the blood, listen to the quiet" mantra and also "all cops are bastards."]
(Basira, in post production: ...yeah, that's fair.)
--
The Flesh Episode
Parents are horrified when they hear their children singing "you are what you eat, meat is meat!" whenever they play after that episode airs.
(Martin: Just to be clear, we're encouraging cannibalism??
Jon: no! ...maybe? i don't know, Martin, they told me it tested well with the focus group children
Martin: yes, okay, but WHY did you come up with that jingle?
Jon: Don't look at me like that, I'm not crazy, Martin! I wouldn't just eat a person. But, well, if someone asked me to eat them like, after they died, I wouldn't necessarily say no...?
This conversation was recorded and leaked somehow. And that's how Actual Cannibal Jon Sims became a trending meme. He has to do a PR statement confirming that he "has never knowingly eaten a person" and that that was "a completely hypothetical discussion." This convinces as many people as you think it would.)
--
The Stranger Episode
Nikola: I don't much like children. Not enough skin on them to do anything really fun.
Jon: Why are you--how did you even get in?? S-Security! Someone come get her out of--
Nikola: oh, but I have information for the little ones! [she pulls out a basket of high-end skincare products and looks directly into the camera with her featureless face] These are the lotions that are best for Archivist flesh but I'm sure they work for the kiddies as well! You all want to grow up to have lots of beautiful skin don't you? Here, let me show you how to use them! [attempt to lotion Jon]
Jon: [flinches away] Security! O-or Daisy. DAISY!
[growling is heard and we get a flash of a wolfish Daisy body-slamming Nikola to the ground. The rest of the episode has Tim shoving Jon off screen and going on a rant about circuses and how to best explode them. This becomes one of their most popular episode amongst the children]
--
Breekon and Hope show up occasionally in the background of various episodes and become something like an Easter egg for fans of the show.
Anyway, I love the idea of kids adoring socially awkward, neurotic mess of a man Jonathan Sims. Jon is completely confounded by his popularity but also, he's glad of it bc that means the children will be more prepared if they ever encounter any of the Entities (most parents think it's all fiction, except for the ones who've had Encounters with one of the entities; Jon ends up with a sort of underground cult following comprised of survivors of fear encounters)
I blame @lemonisinplay (and Jonny Sims) for the entirety of this post, tbh. She came up with the name and half the stuff here XD
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dancefloors · 4 years ago
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did u rank fine line in terms of unhingedness?
i hadn’t but i did just for you <3 and bc there’s been so much talk about how fine line isnt insane just because it’s a more cohesive project 🙄. sorry this ones long, he’s crazy. 
cherry: obviously. the pained screaming at the end. the insanity of including the voicenote. the overall pettiness. not to mention my favorite bit: "does he take you walking around his PARENTS' gallery?". he said I miss you and also your stupid little new boyfriend is a nepotism child who has never achieved anything himself in his entire life. anyway I wear ur shirt sometimes :(
watermelon sugar: he wrote a whole song about how if he doesn't eat pussy he Will die. unprovoked. also legitimately hilarious and unhinged how he took an exes favorite book, made it into a song about box munching (which has. NOTHING to do with the plot), and then had that song become HIS entire identity to everyone that knows him. and he put his little trumpets on it to top it off. finessed. crazy. horny.
to be so lonely: actual crazy behaviour to put this DIRECTLY after falling ("there's no one to blame but the drink and my wandering hands") and open with no actually you CAN'T blame me bc I'm a sweet little boy 🙄 also don't call him or me baby ever again. also I'm an arrogant son of a bitch. and jealous as fuck. not my fault tho
fine line: Girl I am sobbing. what the fuck is crisp trepidation. you are not normal
she: *most mindboggling cryptic shit about either a gender crisis or wet dreams for 3 min* *guitar solo*
treat people with kindness: song itself is very bright and loud and but in a 'i have screws loose' way. it's like the auditory version of seeing a clown. like this is fun but why do I get the feeling that someone is about to die. I mean "if our friends all pass away, it's okay".... COME AGAIN???
golden: most depressing fucking 'love song' of all time. every lyric in this is a direct act of war. shan't elaborate
falling: oh the concept of becoming something you hate because you feel so unwanted and worry that someone who means a lot to you will regret what you had so much that they will never mention you or even need you, and that feeling weighs you down in every way and you don't even think you can change 😂😐 very cool very fun thank you
adore you: "I would die for you I worship the ground you walk. but you don't have to say you love me LMFAOOOO EWW". girl.... 
lights up: about self discovery! very fun very beautiful, but incredibly funny that the verses are like "I respect heterosexuality (no I don't. never going back) but it ain't me 🙏"
sunflower vol. 6: why is it the 6th volume. where are the other five. (on a serious note, constantly thinking about the link to 'Flowers in the Window’ (the song he wanted played at his funeral) which has a similar "plant new seeds" lyric 😐. society if harry could write one love song without referencing endless suffering or death).
canyon moon: almost no insanity here. just simply the line "plays songs i’ve never heard, an old lovers hippie music, pretends not to know the words". such a pretty way to slip in a mention of his partner playing songs their ex bf wrote about them for harry to hear. he said I will sprinkle in a mention of drama
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clanwarrior-tumbly · 4 years ago
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Minus Mod HCs
After the new update I decided to start a new list of hcs for this mod! Once Senpai is out I'll update it accordingly :)
........
Beta BF (Kenny)
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A chill dudebro, though he’s sometimes a bit of a sore loser when it comes to rap battles.
Usually goes around shirtless to impress Cassie (Minus!GF), so he often gets sick from being cold.
Yep he’s a certified himbo.
When the other two Minus BFs came along, they all started fighting for Cassie’s affection--and still fight to this very day.
Likes to skateboard and hangout with Minus Pico at the park. He likes his rambles about dinosaurs so he stays and listens.
Mean BF (Mike)
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Very snarky, serious, and blunt. He doesn’t take shit from anybody.
Tends to flip off his opponents if they annoy him too much (especially Minus Monster).
He has no fear (--thinks about how he hasn’t seen Cassie in a while--) He now has one fear.
Mike only softens up around her...and his fellow Minus BFs on occasion.
He likes skateboarding, too, but the similarities with Kenny end there.
Sometimes they steal each other’s hats.
Blue BF (Bryce)
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His personality is closest to Keith’s: sweet, loyal, and sometimes a little dumb.
Even though blue usually represents sadness, he’s actually the most cheerful guy you’ll ever meet!
He’s a motorcyclist and likes taking Cassie and Minus Pico out on drives throughout Minus City.
Is usually the “peacekeeper” of the Minus BF group. 
He did suggest Cassie could share them all. But nah Kenny and Mike still like to fight for her affection at times.
Minus Skid & Pump
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Minus Skid is an inky skeleton monster whose appearance usually frightened children (even tho he has the same childish demeanor as normal Skid).
He became a puppeteer and crafted a pumpkin monster (Minus Pump) so they wouldn’t be scared anymore.
The duo became quite popular in Minus City, especially during the spooky month.
Pump gained sentience through some mix of demonic and friendship magic, and was able to sing and talk on his own. 
But he can’t move without Minus Skid’s help (not that it bothers him, he sees his creator as a true best friend).
Minus Pico
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A reptilian demon boi (he has scales of a snake but the aggression of a crocodile).
Is obsessed with dinosaurs--his ancestors--and their history. He’ll pull out the glock if someone tries telling him they’re extinct.
He’s got a collection of prehistoric stuff (gems, volcanic rocks, fossils, amber, etc.). When he’s not busy with rap battles he just reads about dinosaurs and organizes his collections.
Has the same foul mouth as normal Pico but isn’t as traumatized as him. Though he still carries a gun around bc it makes him feel safe.
Is scared af of Minus Monster and will hiss if he shows up.
He’s carnivorous and loves steak.
Minus Monster
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Is way more unhinged than normal Lemon Demon.
In fact he was so dangerous he was contained in a facility (one built for overly-powered demons) but he managed to escape and murdered the guards.
He’s very giggly, even in serious moments, and can never stop smiling.
All three Minus BFs are terrified of him.
For some reason, though, Minus Skid isn’t afraid of him. In fact he showed off Pump’s dancing skills once and suddenly Minus Monster became protective of both of them.
They do learn he was subjected to cruel treatment in the facility, hence his unstableness so they try to cheer him up to keep him calm.
When his body becomes static, he can go through TVs and electronic devices.
Minus Mom (Mary)
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Same personality as Monica.
But she’s pretty brash compared to her husband Luke, and more snappy at the satyr dancers.
Her pupils can turn to Xs (like in her danger icon) in a comical fashion whenever she’s shocked, disgusted, or defeated.
When Cassie was holding onto the speakers for dear life during her week, she just laughed. She really isn’t that concerned for her safety. She just likes to show off her singing skills.
Of the three Minus BFs, she teases Mike the most for how grumpy he always is.
Minus Dad (Luke)
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Is more lax when compared to Luis.
He’s still protective over his daughter and wants BF (no matter who it is) to prove he’s worthy.
When the three showed up to his studio, he was like “oh okay umm....whoever sings the best wins the right to date her.”
But....they all sang perfectly, so he couldn’t choose. So he just allowed them to “figure it out” (and even now they still haven’t).
Possesses fire magic and can summon/breathe purple flames to impress the crowds or intimidate rivals.
Shares Mary’s habit of the pupils becoming Xs.
Minus GF (Cassie)
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Isn’t all that different from Charlotte, being the same encouraging GF that the BFs needed.
She’s also a dancer--specifically hiphop--and may sometimes dance around during the rap battles.
The three Minus BFs are fighting for her love constantly, but she tries giving them all equal amounts of affection.
She simply can’t choose who to love more (though she finds Bryce’s personality to be the sweetest).
Enjoys Minus Skid’s puppet shows and always applauds him.
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yostresswritinggirl · 4 years ago
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request for your event? you being klee's older sibling and having to look after her, but when no one's around you're just as mischievous as her :))
It is time to give love to the cutest child in the game, the chaos incarnate herself skdbslbwka I always love these types of scenarios, and with a lot of material available, I went haywire sksksks
Geronimo!
Snippets of angst here and there, but Klee always makes things better! (masterlist)
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Responsible, reliable, strong.
Strength seems to run in your family, as well the familiarity with the element of Pyro. Ever since your mother Alice left to venture into the world after the appearance of Albedo, things had been busier and tiring on your end.
You had to fend for you and Klee outside of the little pension the Knights provide. Unlike Klee and Alice, you were no Knight of Favonius, just a normal citizen that does commissions for the Adventurer's Guild while delving into whatever your heart desires. Because of your lack of connection, most of the income you get are from your own work and the bits of mora your mother has left in your care. Your Spark Knight little sister is well in the hands of the Knights, all accommodation handled by them.
A lot of the Knights and even citizens are quite fond of her anyways, and so in multiple care she's not neglected the slightest.
Your mind is at ease knowing that your sister is enjoying a comfortable life while you deal with the loss of a parental figure in silence.
One night as you slip in next to your little sister in her room within the headquarters, the room your mother had occupied before she left, Klee begged you in her half-conscious state to spend the day with her tomorrow even if just for the afternoon. Klee was no spoiled child, she barely asks for anything nor forces others to do her bidding, and this desperation of hers had you crumble as you agreed.
That night you felt more tired than usual. Questioning to yourself, 'have you been neglecting the last family you had?'
Jean felt more than relief when she heard that you'd taking Klee under your care for the day, offering your deepest apologies and gratitude for continuing to look after her in your place. But as Jean waves you two goodbye, she was naive to the chaos she had allowed to come together.
Instead of skipping commissions like you had planned, under the coaxing of your sister, you ended up doing them with her. "It would be fun, Klee will be good and help out too!" And she did, especially when it comes to disposing the creatures around the city.
You watched a Hilichurl fly up from a huge explosion, body spread out as it disappears behind a line of trees in the background. When you looked back down after the smoke disperses, there's a huge crater in the middle of the Hilichurl camp and many unconscious Hilichurls in general.
"Let me try it too!" "Yeeey, go, big sibling!" Picking up one of her smaller bombs she'd laid out on the ground for easy access, you pulled out your bow and hanged the bomb by its head with a piece of string.
"Do a spin, a 360!" "Whatever my sister wants," you started as you started shifting your body in a turn, arrow and string pulled back and ready for release, "Sheeee gets!" When you saw the familiar view of the camp, you angled your shot slightly upwards and released, arrow piercing through the air before immediately turning downward with the weight of the bomb.
You two looked over the cliff to watch the fire show below, arm wrapped around her form to make sure she doesn't fall, as the supposed tiny bomb produced a huge mushroom cloud that sent a gale of black smoke up to where you two watched.
"That was so cool!" "So cool!" You gave your sister a high five, both of your hair disheveled from the force with ashes littered all over your body.
Gliding down the cliff, you didn't give the charred camp much attention as you two sped past to your next commission.
Once you'd went with her to a faraway river when she said she wanted some fish toast. Not wanting her to use her bomb and cause some kind of fish extinction in Mondstadt, you eagerly jumped in the pond after discarding some of your important items and outer clothing, an arrow in hand as you chased and stab the bigger fish.
"Wah, big sis/bro! Behind you! A green scary fish is about to bite you!" "A what now?!"
After you turned, you've ended up wrestling against the jaws of a giant crocodile that strayed into the stream. It took a few minutes before Klee finally stepped in with her Pyro catalyst.
You swimmed a little more to wash away the ashes, cleaning up your sister's face with a wet cloth too from the earlier Hilichurl extermination.
You're not as popular or in the limelight as your sister, many Mondstadtians only ever know you as a simple citizens who deals with commissions, and so very few (select few knights too) know of your connections with the Spark Knight.
When Klee isn't rambling about her bombs, confinement or Albedo, she likes to brag about you. The best and hardworking family, always responsible and witty that you manage to get away with anything. She proudly announces she wants to be as smart as you too, both clauses somehow sending worry to the Knights in fear of Klee and whatever you're capable of.
Despite your respectful smiles and composed appearance, your energy and genius stems from your unhinged mother. The best and worst part about it tho, is that you don't need to report to any higher ups about your experimentations and findings.
"If we lure in a Cryo slime here," you said with a gesture to the net set up by the catapult, "this catapult would sling it over to the field fire the whopperflower made!"
"Do you get it?" "Yes, yes! Klee will deliver a nice and big Cryo slime!" You watched as she took off with that cute run of hers, and not even a minute passes that she comes running back over the slope-
"That's one- two, three, four- five?! KLEE WE ONLY NEEDED ONE SLIME- AHHHHH!"
An adult and a baby Cryo slime got caught in the net which immediately triggered the catapult's mechanism. In the distance you watched them bounce off the flames, also effectively crushing the flower itself under their weight.
Leaving you two to deal with remaining slimes, which was easy with your precise shots and Klee's destructive power. You two escaped death with a few bruises from the bouncing abominations, your catapult broken amidst the encounter.
"(Y/N) is the best big sibling I could ever have! So fun to play with especially! Even if Klee misses them a lot, Klee knows that they're doing it for the best!" Kaeya and Jean awed at the way Klee speaks so fondly of you after getting cleaned up for rest, while you showered during this time in her room's bath. "Klee wants to be as cool as them!"
"What's this?" You emerged from the doorway with a towel around your shoulder, your appearance causing your little sister to jump down from Kaeya's arms to run into yours. "You little mischief, sneaking out of the room to disturb the Acting Grand Master and the Captain!"
"I wanted to talk to them about how fun and cool you are!" Klee giggled when you booped noses, the two older figures in the room chuckling fondly at the sweet scene.
"Perhaps you could look into joining our ranks? There's always a room for you in the Knights, someone as reliable as you would be helpful in protecting Mondstadt," Jean's smile echoes through her words of offer as she looks at you inquisitively, making you gulp at the idea.
You wanted to refuse, for many, many reasons really. But Klee's bright, wide eyes at the thought of finally being in the same place as you for possibly 24/7, tells you you couldn't really refuse.
It was only three months after being a knight that Jean finally realized the deep and ashen crater by Starsnatch Cliff was created by you and Klee's combined efforts. She stares warily as she sees your form pass by the cracked open door to her office, Klee towed behind you as you walk hand in hand with big smiles.
Mondstadt's walls shook that day.
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Klee is actually my little sister's favorite character in Genshin. I was tempted to merge this with another ask, but no, I must hold myself.
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