#i know there is no confirmation of that but i could v easily believe that

[waldensblog]

I’m going to assume that age in the Grishaverse kinda works like cat years in the sense that “17″ might be the equivalent to our “21″ or something because I truly cannot suspend my disbelief enough to accept the Crows as 16-18 year olds as those ages correspond IRL. Their life experiences, behaviour, the way others interact with them... no, it doesn’t read like that. Evidently what is considered an “adult” in Ketterdam is much younger than for us.

[thebreakfastgenie]

It is extremely disturbing how many posts I see claiming that Roe v. Wade was overturned on Biden's watch and blaming him and the Democratic Party for it. It's disturbing on a number of levels.

First, it was Trump and Bush-appointed justices who handed down the Dobbs decision. This is a flagrant example of blaming Democrats for things Republicans did, and not coincidentally is one of the the most widely felt differences between the two parties. As a result, it's usually the first example Democrats and their allies point to; this misappropriation suggests a deliberate attempt to undercut that fact.

Secondly, and related to the first point, it obfuscates who the real enemy is, and I am comfortable using word "enemy" to describe the Republican Party because of the policies they advocate and enact. The truth is that states controlled by the Republican Party were where the effects of Dobbs are most severely felt, while states controlled by the Democratic Party are passing laws to protect abortion. It is important to know which party opposes abortion and which party supports it. If the Republicans gain control of the House, Senate, and White House, they will pass a national abortion ban, as they have done at the state level in several places.

Thirdly, blaming Biden for Dobbs demonstrates a very concerning lack of understanding of how the government functions. The judiciary is its own branch of government; judges are appointed by the president and confirmed by the senate. It doesn't matter who is president when a decision is handed down, it matters who was president when the justices were appointed. People sometimes react to this by moving the goalposts and claiming the real issue was a failure by Democrats to "codify" Roe v. Wade. I am not sure what "codify" means in this context, and I'm not sure they are either. One thing it does not mean is that congress can pass a law saying "abortion is legal forever." Republicans could easily repeal such a law and it the federal government cannot necessarily prevent states from restricting abortion at the state level. Roe v. Wade was a ruling stating that the constitution guaranteed a right to privacy, which included the right to have an abortion. This prevented abortion restrictions in a way federal law cannot. That doesn't mean passing federal law protecting abortion is a bad idea, but it isn't a foolproof protection. It's fair to argue that the Democratic Party and the left of center generally were complacent about abortion. The form of this complacency was not taking the courts seriously, while the right spent fifty years openly filling the courts with anti-abortion judges.

The last thing that worries me is that this is popping up phrased almost the exact same way all over the place. I am afraid that it is not merely incompetence, but intentional misinformation, that is then repeated by the incompetent who believe it.

I know some will probably dismiss this post as being from a "vote harder" liberal Biden supporter, but whatever your feelings about Biden, the Democratic Party, or the democratic process in the U.S., you should care about the truth. The truth is that Roe v. Wade was overturned by Republican-appointed judges and abortion bans are being enacted by Republican elected officials, and Joe Biden opposes these things. You can do with that information whatever you wish, but you denying it is dishonest.

[allurilove]

Yandere Husband x you

Rated 18 + — mature short content !

Includes: possessive behavior, manipulation, pregnancy/ baby trapping, cunnilingus, fem reader, p in v sex, dry humping, stalking, he’s a very deceptive man

*Thank you to everyone who enjoyed my last post of yan!husband 😭🩵 This is a continuation off of my last post, and he’s only referred to as “your husband.” his only existence is to be obsessed with the reader, and without you, he ceases to exist. Here is the third part! This is purely fictional writing!*

Synopsis: Your husband is over the moon. He infiltrated your life, and he will make sure you never forget it. His obsession love for you is taken to new heights, a newest edition blessing your family.

You hated being pregnant as much as you hated being lied too. After learning he’s been stalking you, and purposefully feeding you lies about your whole interactions just being “fate,” he finds ways to make you forgive him.

What a fucking creep. Your husband thought as he watched the realtor get too handsy with you. Actually, everyone was trying to put their hands on you. You were carrying his baby, but others would put their hand on your stomach, acting as if it was theirs. He stiffened as the realtor tried to make a lame joke about the master bedroom.

He automatically appeared by your side, removing the realtors hands on your baby bump. He was in a bad mood the whole entire day. When you two go back home, he pulled you to the bedroom. He’s more careful with your body now, and he gently pushed you down onto the bed. He crawled next to you.

His arms wrapped around you possessively, his face digging into your neck, and you hear him whisper sweet things into your skin. He pressed kisses onto your shoulder, his hands wandering around your body before he groped at your chest.

You’ve gained weight, which was natural and just a part of the process. He loved to fondle your thighs, and his hands start to move upwards. Your husband slipped his hand underneath your dress, his hands touching your inner thigh and near your warmth. He was always the big spoon, loving how you feel in his arms.

“Oh dear…” Your husband whispered in delight, his eyes glancing down to see his hardened dick.

Your husband would always be erect around you, his hands revealing your plump ass to him and he gently smacked it. You scoff and push him away. You still haven’t forgotten…. you thought you found a friend, a guy to talk to about your stresses and worries in life. But he was the perpetrator.

“I said I was sorry…” Your husband frowned. “You sure know how to hold a grudge…”

When you shoot him a glare and make it clear you were still upset, he raised his hands in surrender. “Alright… let me make it up to you.”

Your husband pulled your legs apart, and his hands automatically went for your panties.

You remember a time when he first went down on you. You were in a vulnerable position at the time, as you ran and ran from your stalker, however you couldn’t help feel a bit of happiness. This was a confirmation that you weren’t hallucinating, and all of your friends that didn’t believe you, could suck it. But it also meant you weren’t just delusional, and someone was actually following you. Fatigue settled into your body, and you rested on the wall as you try to catch your breath.

Your husband, who was just a friend at the time, conveniently was walking past. He looked worried, and he feigned innocence when he pretended that he didn’t see a man following you. He walked you back home that night, and he got you so comfortable around him- that his fingers were easily slipping inside you. His tongue lapping up any juices that flowed out of you, and he pressed kisses on your folds.

He was a vessel of safety, and at the time you thought you would be fine for awhile. Completely unaware that your stalker was now sleeping in the same bed as you.

Your husband moaned as his mouth latched onto your cunt, his hands now trailing upwards to feel your stomach. His heart fluttered, and his mind was plagued of ways to keep you by his side forever. Spilling his seed inside you was one thing, and marrying you was another… but he needed something more binding.

He was a bit afraid of hurting the baby, and he always tried different ways of pleasing you than using his dick. He pulled down his pants and he lowered his hips, just enough to be rubbing against your wet core. You feel the soft fabric of his boxers touching your clit, and his lips connect with yours. You can taste yourself on his tongue.

You remember the time when you found out you were pregnant. You were suddenly sick, and your husband was by your side, just mindlessly playing with your tits. He did that often as he read his newspapers, his hand would crawl underneath your shirt, and his excuse was that he just needs something to fondle. That was when you found out he was not who he said he was. That the times he “bumped” into you, was him finding out your schedule, your routine, and months of stalking.

“What are you thinking about, hmm?” Your husband whispered in your ear, one of his hand grabbed onto your ass to help you follow his rhythm. He continues to grind himself onto you, his other hand playing with your hair.

“What will it take for you to forgive me?”

“Will it help if you hit me?” Your husband scoffed as you screamed at him for hours. You cried your heart out, and the person you loved at the time, was the reason for your paranoia. You can still feel his kisses on your neck, the way he pulled your clothes off, and when he bent you over on the dresser, you couldn’t move. His body was smushed right against yours, he humiliated you, made you feel desperate for release, and made your toes curl.

As he fucked you from behind, he forced you to look at yourself in the mirror. The way drool dribbled down your mouth as you let out silent screams, your eyes rolling back as his thrusts were hard, and demanding submission. You despised him, the way he puts his hands on you, and the way he made you cum.

“…You’re crying..?” Your husband was stumped as tears welled up in your eyes and you started to sniffle. “Because of me?”

You’re tired of him trying to make it up to you. If he really wanted too, he would’ve came clean long time ago and go to jail for fucks sake. You feel his eyes zero in on your tears, watching it dribble down to your chin, and out of curiosity he licked them. He kisses your cheeks and he wraps his arms around you again. You feel suffocated having him on top of you, and you wish someone would take pity on you and take you away.

“I’m sorry.”

You’ve heard it countless of times, each meaningless and empty.

Allure: Sorry that this took awhile! I had to redo this a couple of times, and I wasn’t sure what to write really.

[buttercupblu]

i wanna fucking tear you apart

Vampire SuguChoso x Reader|Halloween Special Three-Shot

Part 1|Part 2|Part 3

the deets: oh god, where do we begin? let's start in the home of the supernatural, shall we? the great city of New Orleans. and you are absolutely about to shit bricks for having to return here, and not for a reason any sane person would believe. you don't even want to say it out loud and make it real, make them real. but you have to find them, someone's life is at stake if you don't. and the worst part? you reluctantly have to rely on someone, something you've spent years convincing yourself was just a figment of your imagination. be careful reader—or not, you seem to get off on that—because you're about to walk headfirst into something that's going to change your entire world and make you question everything you swore you'd never believe in. w.c: issa surprise. whoever gets the closest, gets a drabble of their choice (restrictions apply. i have to be familiar with the show/story. drop an ask to participate :3) tags: summoning ritual w/ special guest possessive Ghost Gojo who is annoying asf as always but even moreso bc now he can bounce all over the place, ghostly touches, hands up skirts, no bathroom privacy?, taunting and flirting through sexual assault, he's obsessed with your smell and is a panty-sniffer 🧍🏾‍♀️, cunnilingus, fingering, P in V and literally getting the breath knocked out of you, creampie? (you'll understand), coercion for a taste, rutting, and you don't know if you hate him for all of it by the end of the beginning of your journey angel’s note: Satoru...please.. earworm 🐛: tonight you belong to me remix, or the original by Patience and Prudence, it's creepier in my opinion but such a great song

—Believing—

You don't believe in vampires.

So why in the entire fuck are you standing outside of a restaurant hoping you'll be able to talk to a ghost?

You glance up at the sinking sun, the sky bruising with dusk as the nervous tap of your heel against the cobblestone almost syncs with your heart.

Be cool, be cool.

Surely no one's noticed you sitting here for the past 30 minutes, fidgeting with your fingers, mentally pacing back and forth trying to decide if you'll walk through those doors you haven't opened in 6 years.

Those pale green doors that hold centuries worth of secrets that can never escape.

Including...

But what if all of that was just in your head?

You were younger back then, new to New Orleans, and all those stories, legends, and creepy tales could have easily messed with you.

No.

You know what you saw.

What you felt.

What you heard. His voice. That smile...

Your chest feels like a knot tied too tight, yet a strange hope flutters beneath the nerves.

Hope that the past wasn't just some weird trick your mind played on you.

Because you could never forget it.

You just hope he hasn't forgotten you.

You take a breath watching the sun finally slip behind the horizon of the place of your eerie past. The old, chipped sign still hanging crooked above the door, and wrought-iron lanterns cast orange halos on the cracked sidewalk.

Closing time is near, and so is the truth you came here for.

But will this be another bust? Or will you finally get to confirm that all of it was real?

It has to be, he has to be...because he's the only one who can help you find where they are. If they even truly exist.

And the second you finally muster up the strength to face and push through those heavy, creaking doors, there's no turning back.

Walking in feels like you've gone back in time, and everything is just as you left it.

"Hi, welcome to Muriel's." The hostess greets you with a smile that you try to reflect back, hoping that she won't notice your nerves—or worse, that someone from your past will recognize you. "Just to let you know, we will be closing in about 30 to 35 minutes but you are welcome to dine in or takeout." And her eyes drift over your less-than-formal attire, a slight flicker of curiosity in her expression, but her pleasant smile never wavers.

You clear your throat. "Dine in, please," you say, and she nods, tucking a menu and silverware under her arm before leading you through the over-the-top space—each step digging you further into the rabbit hole. The details of what you left behind propels you back into the past, and suddenly you're 19 again, juggling plates and wiping down tables under the watchful gaze of the old regulars. When you last worked here.

The hum of conversation fills the space, but you tune it out, your eyes scanning for familiar things. What the restaurant purposefully lacks on the outside, is equally lacking on the inside.

The tables, dressed in those heavy burgundy cloths. The stuffy velvet chairs, more decoration than comfort. The twinkling glass chandelier that always sparkled a little too brightly for the dark, moody space, and the drapey curtains, still tacky as ever, decorate the walls and clash between the old-world elegance and overdone theatrics.

The bar stools are still worn in the same places, and the corner booth where the kitchen staff would gather to sneaks shots of whiskey after closing still stands strong.

You don't see anyone you recognize—thankfully—but the atmosphere still feels the same. Especially when it seems like the walls are watching you, their quiet judgment as thick and heavy as the air filled with the smell of fried shrimp, garlic, and something bitterly sweet, like old wine left to ferment for too long.

Walking past the table where you used to sit with your tips, counting down the hours until closing and sweet escape, feels heavy, and every step after is like pulling back a curtain on memories you buried deep, unsure if they ever really even happened. But every flicker of light, every clink of glass, makes your heart race just a little—confirming some kind of PTSD because even if your brain doesn't remember, your body does.

The whispers. The rattling. The presence. Always there, but never seen.

Showing up here almost every single day was definitely the bane of your existence, but you couldn't just quit, not back then.

You needed the money to make ends meet, especially when you chose to go to school out of state.

A broke college student struggling to stay afloat in the wild and "haunted" streets of New Orleans where every shadow told a story and every corner whispered a myth.

NOLA, of all places: home of the supernatural you've never believed, and yet here you are, purposely choosing to have a seat at its table. And nervously glancing over at thee table, perfectly set as if waiting for someone special, yet desolate and tucked away from the rest. The phantom feeling of what happened there years ago creeps through your body as you pick at your meal, trying to ignore the urge to bolt on what you think is the stupidest plan you've ever had in your entire life.

By the time you finish up, your heart is pounding, but despite being the worst place you've ever worked in, the food is still as good as you remembered. It always felt like a home you've never visited, soothing your body and making you fight tendrils of sleep.

The restaurant quiets as the final patrons start to leave and you're one of the last stragglers. You pay your tip and stack your dishes out of habit, and now the real waiting begins. "Shut up, shut up," you say to your gut feeling. "I can do this." And you take one last deep breath and yourself before you head towards where everything first went down: the bathroom.

The long, narrow corridor seems darker than ever, the black walls and red carpet only adding to the sense of isolation where you'll be camping out until closing.

You catch a glimpse in the large mirror and pause, barely recognizing yourself—nerves tightening your expression, tension locking your shoulders.

You look like you've already seen the ghost you've come to meet, but give yourself a reassuring head nod, though it feels hollow. Nevertheless, you enter the stall where it all began. Of all the places to meet a ghost...it had to be while you were hovering over a toilet seat. That perv.

Crouching into place, you pull your knees into your chest and try to steady your nerves, listening to the sounds of the restaurant closing—clattering dishes, murmuring voices—all of it mingling with your thumping heartbeat.

This is so stupid, you think, hiding in here like this, feeling so ridiculous you try not to laugh at the sheer stupidity of it all. But the thought of backing out now and being like "Oops, my bad." to the staff feels even crazier. You're officially in too deep to turn back now.

You shift in your spot and try to get comfortable, knowing that closing can take quite a while in a place this large and "fancy". But your anxiety is not having it, and you nearly lose your balance, your feet slipping and almost falling into the bowl. You curse, gripping the sides of the stall for stability when you freeze, swearing that you heard a snicker.

You hold your breath thinking you've been caught, but when a silent moment passes then two, you huff and shake your head like an Etch-a-Sketch. You know must be hearing things but fuck, how long is this going to take?

It's nerve-wracking when the staff do finally come in to do bathroom checks, but after what feels like an eternity, you're sure the coast is finally clear. When you creep out of the stall, the restaurant is eerily still now that it's fully closed, and once you've collected yourself, you make your way out, finally ready to sit at the table you've been staring holes into all evening.

The velvet rope falls to the side as you part the way. Your fingers trail over the cold cutlery on the table—the finest in the restaurant, decked with gold trim and sitting on porcelain platters. A small smile tugs at your lips. He's always been the type to require the finer things, even in death. Though you're surprised he hasn't turned the place upside down at the slight wrinkle you catch in the tablecloth.

You sink into the chair, the soft and barely worn cushion molding beneath you, almost welcoming you to the table amidst the unsettling darkness, urging you to quickly pull out your candle and a pair of lace panties. Doubts swarm your mind, but you begin anyway, preparing to start the ritual you've never tested before and solely banking on what you've come to know and what you've experienced.

But what if he doesn't show up?

He hasn't the last few times you've visited, and this...this is the most extreme measure you've taken so far.

If this doesn't work, then nothing will, and you hold your breath as you give the match a hard look before striking it, watching the flame cast a glow in the shadows before bringing it to the wick and lighting the darkness.

The restaurant seems even more disturbing as you glance around the dark. Watching, waiting for any movement, any indication of a presence, of his presence. He's never been predictable, so good at surprises and keeping you on your toes as you worked your shifts from the sun up until it set late at night. Giving you the biggest of scares the first time you felt a brush of your ankle in the bathroom. Thank God you were already on the toilet.

Now, all you can do is wait. Wait and hope that tonight is diff—

Goosebumps rise on your skin and that PTSD kicks in again, catching a glimmer of light in the corner of your eye as a sudden chill creeps in, slithering over your skin. It's subtle at first, like a draft through an open window, but quickly intensifies, feeling the temperature drop by several degrees. The hairs on the back of your neck stand at attention, and for a second, you swear you can see your breath fog in the dim light of the unnatural cold.

Your arms cross over your chest, instinctively rubbing warmth into your skin, and just when you go to wrap the sweater you brought around your body, it hits you—that smell you could never forget or find anywhere else. Heavy, almost suffocating. Filling your nose and seeping into every breath when you hear his voice echo out of nowhere.

"Panties for dinner?" The voice curls around you, laced with that same mischievous edge you remember from years ago.

"Shit!" Your stomach plummets into your ass when you look up. Across the room, in the dim reflection of a nearby mirror, you see him. White, ghostly hair sitting atop a tall, slim figure, his form hazy around the edges like smoke threatening to dissipate.

You can't make out all of him, but the presence is unmistakable. And standing right behind you.

You can't even breathe, frozen, staring at the mirror and his sly grin. But when your fight kicks in and you whip around, there's nothing, just empty air and your hot breath floating in it, and you nearly pee yourself when you turn back and he's sitting right across from you. Calm, composed, and smug as ever, resting in his favorite seat in the house. Reserved just for him.

He leans back, white cotton-clad arms crossing behind his head, his ghostly form flickering in and out of the dim light—almost making him completely translucent save for the reflection in his circular sunglasses. "I know times are changing but—" he tilts them down to eye the lace panties you've laid out. "Even I wouldn't think of adding such a delicacy to the menu."

You release a breath you didn't know you were holding and swallow. "Hello, Gojo."

You never thought you'd say that name again, feeling foreign, yet familiar on your tongue, and though you were just scared out of your wits, relief washes over you. Because at last you know you're not crazy. Not then, and not now.

He's real, and now eyeing you up and down as if you're the next thing on the menu.

Seeing him brings back a flood of memories—memories of late-night shifts, of him toying with you when no one else would be bothered.

Though you've never been the type to believe in anything you can't see, working here taught you differently, and you learned that ghosts are surprisingly easy to find. Or at least, it's easy for them to find you.

He laughs. "Damn, really?" raising a brow, "What's with the formalities?" And he sounds offended for a reason you almost forget why before he has hearts in his eyes.

"Look at you," he says, his voice a soft puff, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table. His pale blue eyes gleam with something between amusement and enticement as he takes you in. "All grown up," he pops. "And here after all these years. I didn't think you'd have the guts to come back...and bring such...interesting offerings." His lips curl into a slow smirk.

“Well, Satoru,” your lips purse, “It’s not like I haven’t been trying," you say remembering the frustration of the past few weeks. “I figured something…unconventional might work. Finally.” 

He tsks, casually lifting the lace and dangling it on the end of his fingers before wrapping it in his hand. Eyeing you with mischief as he brings the offering to his face and drowns his nose. 

“You know…” he breathes deeply, “I’ve yet to find anyone else who smells as sweet as you.” His eyes flutter shut a moment as if savoring the scent, his grip tightening. Then, as quickly as the moment came, his expression darkens, his tone going low and sharp eyes snapping open before they narrow. “You can’t begin to imagine what it’s like to have something like that stripped away from you.”

The words hang in the air, thick and cutting. And you know exactly what he means.

“Is that why you’ve been ignoring me?” The question that's been gnawing at you spills out, weighed with weeks of trying and failing to reach him since you first came back, wondering why he wouldn’t show. “Because I left?”

Gojo scoffs, smacking his teeth, and looks away, still holding the lace before dismissively letting them fall to the table. “Is it even worth asking?” His eyes flicker back to yours, dripping with disdain. “You sound so sure. Less of a coward now than you were back then,” he mutters, a bitter edge creeping in that knots your stomach.

“Tell me,” he leans, voice crawling with vice, “…was I too much for you that night?” And your throat tightens, memories of your last shift at Muriel’s rushing back full force. 

Most tourists who flock to this charming, haunted restaurant only know the glossy version of its history.

It’s themed, plays up its rumors, is gimmicky, and serves great food all in one curated pot.

But what most don’t know, is that back in the day, it actually used to be a house—a grand, extravagant mansion that was a symbol of wealth and power, drawing in the city’s elite. But all of that splendor needed someone just as luxurious to maintain it and its reputation for being the place to be if there ever was one. 

And that someone was Gojo.

A filthy rich owner with an exorbitantly large bank account and an even larger love for hosting extravagant parties. He didn’t throw these gatherings just for fun—no, they were about keeping the eyes of the elite on him and his sprawling mansion. His house wasn’t just a home—it was a glittering symbol of his status. 

And as famous as Gojo was for his parties, he was just as infamous for his way with women. A relentless womanizer, he cycled through lovers like the seasons, keeping them rotating out of his door like clockwork and was quick to turn down anyone tried to trap him with promises of children or love. 

Gojo very much valued his freedom, up until he took his very last breath. 

With no one to pass along his estate to, he left no heirs and no family to carry on his legacy, and everything he possessed was auctioned to the public. Being sold to someone just as wealthy and lucky enough to be able to continue the home’s reputation.

But even in death, Gojo didn’t care for sharing the spotlight, or his house.

Through the years, the infamous home was passed from hand to hand, and with each new arrival, Gojo made sure they knew he was still a guest with the same appetite for attention he’d always had. 

His tricks started small, mere nuisances at first—footsteps in empty hallways, doors that wouldn’t stay shut, flickers of lights just as someone reached for the switch. But anyone who dared to claim the house as their own quickly realized that Gojo wasn’t the type to share his space. Years passed, and the mansion’s reputation grew darker. Haunted, they said. 

No one could live there without being tormented by the mischievous, jealous ghost of its original owner, making no one want to touch it with a 10-foot pole. For quite some time, the formerly luxurious home sat on the market, a ghost of itself collecting dust and weary stares from passersby familiar and foreign. But it wasn't until someone got the brilliant idea to say fuck it and try to bank on the legends that it was finally opened to the public, done in a way that was guaranteed to attract people from around the world—by turning it into a restaurant. And consequently making Gojo’s antics truly infamous.

At first, the new owners didn’t believe the stories. It’s just old pipes and drafty halls, they said. But that excuse wore thin. Quickly. 

They would return to tables flipped overnight, chairs scattered around the space like a storm had blown through. Champagne glasses, polished and neatly stacked at closing, would go flying across the bar and shatter against the walls by morning. Whispers could be heard in patrons’ ears during dinner and ruin appetites. 

Workers began quitting. Customers stopped coming.

Eventually, enough was enough, and the owners, desperate and undoubtedly true believers now, decided to strike a deal with the restless spirit and finally appeal to his easily bruised ego. And they set up an exquisite V.I.P. table just for him, even going so far as to allow reservations to be made to have dinner with him and appeal to his sense of companionship once every blue moon. 

Once again, Gojo was the center of attention, and just like that, the chaos stopped.

For regular diners, at least. But then, you came along.

At first, it was subtle—small things that could easily be dismissed as accidents or coincidence. 

A fork slipping from your grasp, a shadow moving out of the corner of your eye.

You’d been warned about Gojo when you were hired but quickly dismissed it as a funny story to tell tourists (like you weren’t borderline new to the city yourself). 

You didn’t believe—not in ghosts, not in any of it. 

That is, until the antics became too much to ignore, and Gojo grew tired of playing games.

The whispers weren’t vague murmurs anymore—they were in your ear, low and teasing and calling your name.

The pranks weren’t harmless either—pinches of the fat on your thighs almost made you drop dishes, gushes of wind fluttered your skirt, exposing your flesh to customers, cool breaths ghosted your neck while taking orders. And on the more vulgar end of the scale, you learned that Gojo had an infatuation with your panties, ghosting his hand under your skirt to skim the fabric and trap remnants of you on his fingers to smell and taste. And when that wasn’t enough, he would resort to stealing them, almost always running off with a pair before the end of your shift so he could relish your intoxicating scent while you were away.

He wanted your attention and was relentless, loving to see you flustered and squirming. And he wasn’t going to stop until he had it.

Then came that night. 

The night everything changed.

It was a quiet evening at Muriel's.

The last of the guests had filtered out, the last of the servers and kitchen staff had gone save for a few, and only a soft clatter of dishes in the back and the low hum of the kitchen being scrubbed down kept your company at the end of your shift.

And it had become the usual for you to be the only one left at the end of the day. Ever since your promotion to shift lead, you were the one expected to close up most days. It was a small step-up—more responsibility, slightly more money—but it almost meant longer hours, on top of still being a full-time student. The bags under your eyes couldn't be darker, but someone had to make sure everything was in order before locking up. You were happy to take the extra cash and kill some debt, but nights like that one—when the restaurant was eerily still, and you were the only one walking its halls—made you question if the raise was really worth it.

You were wiping down and fixing the last of tables, mind drifting, tired, and very, very ready to go home and start your second shift on your school assignments.

You felt your muscles slowly tensing, your movements growing slow and stiff. The air was growing cold as fuck, colder than it'd ever been in the restaurant making hairs stand on your arms and your brows furrow. You wondered if the heat had finally kicked out in the old place when a familiar scent hit you. A thick, heady fragrance that'd been haunting you for weeks—opulent, like aged leather, tobacco, and something sweet like an overripe plum. You'd smell it before, but it was stronger than ever that night, filling the air like a thick perfume that almost made you choke and your heart quicken. Because you were the only one in the restaurant.

A whisper right in your ear almost sent you to glory. "Leaving so soon, beautiful?"

You jolted, a rush of heat and cold spiraling through you as you whipped around expecting to find an empty room as usual, but your rag slipped from your fingers.

Because this time, there it was.

Not just a flicker of light, not just a trick of the shadows—but standing there, casually leaning against the bar as if it'd been waiting for you. Its hair white and ghostly, catching the low light and loosely floating around its sharp, pale face. A man, unworldly and almost hypnotically angelic.

God, he was a vision of the past, looking like he'd stepped straight out of the 18th century. Dressed in a loose, long-sleeved cotton shirt that wasn't buttoned all the way, revealing his chest and looking impossibly soft as it bobbed around him with every subtle move. Untouched by the laws of physics like it had a life of its own along with his baggy, almost billowing pants that seemed more of an accessory to his form than a garment.

He looked like he was floating in water.

But it wasn't just the look of him that struck you—it was his presence.

You'd been receiving little snippets of the supposed guilty party for months, but now he was revealing his full form and moving around the room with an ease that was unnerving. Graceful in a way that made him seem more like a dream than a ghost, his feet barely touching the ground as he circled you—a predator accessing its prey.

He wore circular sunglasses, perched right on the bridge of his nose. The modern touch starkly contrasted the vintage quality of his existence and made him all the more haunting. They reflected the dim light and hid his eyes, but you could feel the intensity of his gaze piercing right through you.

He smiled—lazy, dangerous, and knowing—like he could see every one of your thoughts. "Like what you see?" And your stomach twisted. Because whether you wanted to admit it or not, you couldn't deny that you had been waiting for him.

For months, Gojo had been playing with you, pushing and teasing to the brink of borderline insanity. But never in your wildest thoughts did you expect this. Not for him to ever fully reveal himself. Or for him to be so...ethereally gorgeous in a way that made your mouth dry.

You couldn't help but to stare, captivated by his strange, almost unsettling beauty. You'd been told about his promiscuity, his natural ability to captivate women and now you could see how.

He was an enigma, an impossible class of time periods—both out of place and yet perfectly at home in this old, creaky restaurant.

And despite every instinct screaming at you to get the hell out of Dodge, you were drawn to him, just as you had been since that very first whisper in your ear that made you second-guess reality.

"Well, say something." He laid his cheek on his palm. "Or am I just that handsome?"

And there it was—that egregious arrogance you'd heard so much about dripping from every word, as if he hadn't been terrorizing you from the moment you stepped foot in the place or just given you the jumpscare of your life. Though, what threw you off the most was the way he didn't sound like you expected; his voice didn’t match the way he dressed or the era period he seemed to belong to. It was subtly modern, as if he'd been changing his speech as the years went on.

"Cat got your tongue?" He teased, and you swallowed hard, struggling to find your own voice, but the sight of him, his sheer presence, made it almost impossible.

“I’m not scared,” you finally croaked out, lifting your chin, though your voice betrayed you. And the second the words left your mouth, you regretted them, his brows raising and grin widening as he sensed the challenge in your words.

"Not scared, huh?" He stepped closer until the distance between you was almost nonexistent, calling your obvious bullshit by the way you could barely handle his taunts during your day shifts. He paused.

"Boo!"

You jumped, then immediately felt like a little bitch for falling for the oldest trick in the book. You didn't find anything funny but Gojo roared and slapped his knee. "Awww, you're so cute when you're pissed," he remarked, wiping a fake tear at your scowling face. But then his sensual smile returned, reaching out to tilt your chin. "So what'll get you riled up then, brave little waitress?" And he's behind you before you could turn away, running your blood cold as his nose grazed your neck, inhaling the scent of your hair.

You swatted at him, more out of instinct than logic and quickly spun around—only to find nothing. Just empty space and the faint scent of him still hanging in the air like a ghost.

Fuck, where is he?

Your heart thundered in your ears, each breath coming quicker and quicker as your wide eyes scanned the room.

Panic surged through you, fighting to steady your nerves when you turned back and there he was, inches away from your face.

"Fu—!" You flinched and he snickered. "Still not scared?" And he took another step forward.

Your shaky breaths said yes but your head shook no, trying to stand your ground even as your feet moved backwards.

"No?" he grinned, closing the distance between you with every step. "Good. I don't want you to be." Still, his eyes glinted behind those ridiculous shades that hid too much and made it impossible to think straight. Your body moved on autopilot, flight instead of fight kicking in, until the small of your back collided with something solid.

Your breath hitched, aimlessly reaching behind to steady yourself when the soft, velvety fabric sent pins and needles through your body, slowly realizing that you had bumped into the table you just spent too much time painstakingly freshening up earlier—his table.

His grin was positively wicked now and he watched it dawn on your face, registering the fact that you had bumped into the very thing you unironically set up for him. The cool surface pressed into your lower back, cutlery clinking and shifting beneath your fingers as you pondered escape, but you were trapped.

Gojo leaned over you. "Funny," his cool breath brushed your cheek. "I've been watching you for a while now, you know," he mused, his hand slowly creeping up your thigh. His fingers barely brushed beneath your fluffy work skirt but jolts still rocked through you, and you stiffened as you looked up at him with wide eyes.

"I can detect heart rates," he continued, voice a low purr. "And yours? I've been listening to it for months since I first started...playing with you." He smirked. "How it slows down when you think it's all in your head. How it spikes every time something moves that isn't supposed to. How scared you look when you can't figure out what's happening."

He practically towered over you now, and he down to brush the shell of your ear with his lips as he added, "But it's never beat this fast before." And a breath caught in your throat when his hand slid higher, his fingers curling around the divet of your hip.

"You take such good care of my table, doll. No one has done it better since it's been here." Your knees went weak feeling him knead and trace patterns over your hip with his thumb. "Sooo," he smiled against your ear, "It's only fair I put all that hard work to good use right?"

You tried to twist away, you really did, but it was a fruitless attempt to put some distance between you and the ghost. His grip was ironclad and anchoring you to the table, even in his spectral form, and it reminded you that though he was just a spirit, his strength was all too real, and the cool burn seeped through you, yet contrasted the involuntary warmth pooling between your legs.

You swore under your breath as your body betrayed you with each ghostly touch, shivers cascading down your spine. Your jaw clenched as you tried to ignore the arousal gathering in your panties, but Gojo was no amateur. He had done this dance for far too long and far too many times, and he knew the signs better than anyone.

He pulled back just enough to really get a good look at you, the smirk never leaving his face as he took in the blush creeping up your face. The rapid rise and fall of your swelling chest, the way you tugged on your lower lip in a poor attempt to maintain some semblance of control.

"I'll stop if you tell me to," he murmured so sincerely, but it felt like a trick as his other thumb now traced slow, maddening circles up your inner thigh, inching ever closer to the heat radiating from your core. You started to protest, but the words died in your throat when he finally brushed the damp fabric of your panties.

Your mouths fell open, both of you caught entirely off guard at how surprisingly wet you were.

Gojo let out a breathless chuckle, eyes darkening beneath his glasses at the feel of your warm slick. "Just say the word, beautiful," a silken whisper that seemed to wrap around you along with the continuously languid strokes of your puckering clit.

"Hah," you reluctantly moaned, panic mingling with helplessness in a battle between your mind and body.

Because there was no denying the effect he was having on you.

The gradual build-up of unhinged chemistry had unknowingly begun even when he was just an easily dismissive taunt—no matter how much you wanted to resist.

And the bastard knew it.

Reveled in it even, his ghostly fingers toying with the elastic edge of your panties and teasing you with the promise of something more. You just had to say yes.

No.

You squeezed your eyes shut, the fabric of the table bunching under your fingers as you tried to reason with yourself, to not drink the stupid bitch juice, but with each stroke, each tormenting touch, your resolve crumbled more and more.

"Look at me." His tone left no illusion of choice, and your eyes fluttered open to meet the reflection of your pathetic face in his sunglasses. The distorted image mocked you before he pulled them down the bridge of his nose. "Good girl." The corner of his lip tucked under his teeth and he rewarded you with a firmer touch that made your hips involuntary buck towards him with a mewing "Ah!"

His ghostly laugh filled the room and vibrated through his hand resting between your legs. "I wonder," his brow quirked, eyes wandering over your body. "What other sounds I can draw out of you?"

You tried to respond, lips hot and ready to tell him to go to hell, but the only sound that escaped you was a strangled whimper feeling his fingers hook under your panties and pull them aside, exposing you to the cool air as you looked into his intense gaze. He didn't even have to look to know that you were absolutely dripping, and heat bloomed in your face, your thighs rushing to clamp shut but his other hand firmly held you open.

"So stubborn," he smiled, feeling so lucky he was already dead by the way your eyes shoot daggers, and he got an idea looking at your cute tight-lipped face. "Let's see how long you can keep up that fight of yours, hmm?" And he continued his dizzying but purposely feather-light strokes, determined to bring you to the precipice of shattering into pieces.

If you thought you were crazy before, you felt absolutely insane now the way you had two voices on your shoulder, an Angel and a Devil.

This is a ghost, for God's sake, the angel panicked, screaming about the sheer insanity of the situation.

That dick might hit different though, the Devil argued, voice husky and persuasive, reminding you of endlessly late nights spent studying and the dry spells that came with it. Typical of an obnoxiously busy youth battling between college and work.

It'll literally be out of this world sis, the Devil purred, and though you wanted to cringe at your conscious's bad joke, you couldn't help but acknowledge it as something that just might be true. Because despite the disbelief you were in about the reality of your situation, Gojo's very real, very rock-hard, and solid dick pressing against your knee was undeniable. And the idea of it sinking between your walls snuck into your head all on its own.

Your hand trembled, reaching out, wanting—no, needing to feel the subtly thumping temptation that promised a release you hadn't experienced in far too long. The outline wasn't enough, you needed to feel its girth, its length, and your shaky fingers ghosted right through him.

"Ah ah ah," he chided, caressing your cheek. "Not until you say yes." And you felt physically ill as you took a second to even hesitate. To consider. Absolutely mad. Insane. And disgustingly aching with a need so strong it made your head hurt until both of your bickering voices fell silent when you blurted, "Yes!"

And the world itself held its breath.

But it was all Gojo needed, his eyes flashing in triumph with a devious smirk. And in a movement too fast for your eyes to see, he hoisted you up and turned you over, a gasp escaping your lips and he pushed you into a sinful arch until your chest planted on the table.

The heat of his gaze was blazing, taking in such a lewd display that was begging to be touch, and who was he to resist? Allowing his hands to roam your body with an urgency that left you breathless, his touch cold yet exhilarating and racing your beating heart.

Nudging your legs apart, he crouched down, cooing.

"Even prettier than I imagine." Pushing a huff out of you as his thumb slid in, slowly stretching you and coating his finger in your fluids that made his already translucent finger glisten.

His lips curled into a devilish grin at the sight of you, sprawled out of the table, your face flushed with desire and breaths short and needy. He brought his thumb to his lips, tasting you and almost dying all over again, the mix of savory sweetness and tangy heat making his already painfully hard cock twitch with anticipation.

"Delicious," he purred, "But I need more," and you couldn't even process his words before his hands were on your thighs and spreading you wide, his breath cool against your heated flesh. Then his mouth was on you, tongue tracing circles around your sugary clit, lazy but heavy when your head shot up, feeling him suck it into his mouth with an expertise that made your hand shoot out and try to tangle your fingers in his hair. Helplessly whining and squirming, yet failing to pull him closer to grind down on his face to chase his tongue because he was a ghost after all.

But he was in bliss with your taste and obliged your silent wish, dipping in and out of your core and bringing you to the brink of shattering into a million pieces if it hadn't been for the dick in his pants that was so impatient, and you groaned feeling him pull away with a huff.

"Sweet girl," he murmured, lips glistening with your watery mess as he rose to his feet. "Like a sweet, delectable dish." His thumb rolled over your slit. "But I want to feel you come undone on my cock." And you jumped when you felt his thick, hard length teasing your entrance. Sending a jolt through your body at the sensation of his cool, ghostly flesh against your warm pussy before his hands dug into your hips and he slammed into you with a force so strong it knocked the breath from your lungs.

In an instant, you both froze, him buried to the hilt inside you and feeling your unprepared pussy squeeze and struggle to adjust to being so unbelievably full. Feeling every ridge, every vein of his cock throbbing inside of your tight, little walls.

He groaned, "Fuck," hissing and fingers digging into your flesh as he fought for control. "You feel so..." Losing his words, his hips began to move, thrusts slow and deliberate as he started fucking you and fucking you good after months of build-up and playing with you. Shaking the table until it creaked and groaned, the cutlery clinked and dishes fell to the ground as he drove into you again and again and again making your hands scramble to find purchase on the table and hang on.

It was too much. It was heaven on a very big, very thick, drool-inducing stick. It was so delicious that the intense ache bordered pain and made you want to get away yet run towards it at the same time. But he wasn't about to let you go anywhere.

"I don't know who you've been holding out on me for," he gruffed, eyeing screwing shut at your tight, fluttering pussy, "But tonight, you belong to me." And he punctuated his point with deep, harsh, thrusts.

"Go-Go-GoJO." You stammered over his name wanting to beg for relief, but he just wrapped a hand under your neck and pulled you back against him.

"Call me, Satoru, doll," and he kissed your cheek, still bullying your pussy until your walls caved and hungrily sucked him in.

"Sa-Satoru," you managed, almost breathless, "I'm going to..hah, I'm about to..."

You couldn't even get them out, damn near blacking out when you came and came hard, a powerful, unexpectantly early orgasm ripping through your convulsing body. Wave after wave after of white-hot pleasure washed over you until your body went limp against him and your legs crumbled as he let you collapse against the table.

But he wasn't finished yet and he bit his lips, still deeply pushing through your sore and fluttering walls, his mind a heady mix of egotistical pride and unyielding desire as he felt you shudder and unravel beneath him. He marveled at the sight of you utterly defeated yet still clinging to the table, the way your sweet voice called out his name in ecstasy, and every shaky breath and tremble as he pushed you into overstimulation until his own breath grew uneven.

His release was coming and coming fast, the telltale sign tightening in his core as he watched your ass ricochet off his snapping hips, teetering on the edge of release.

His fingers dug into your nearly limp body and held you in place, each thrust becoming more desperate and erratic because even though his dick was a punisher and you were practically lifeless, your pussy was still whooping his ass. Coaxing him to dig deeper and deeper and look Nirvana right in the face until with a hoarse groan, he finally shattered and moaned your name, knocking your hips into the table and stilling right against your cervix until he spilled into you with a fierce, unrestrained release that left him trembling and breathless and you heady and wondering if you could get pregnant by a ghost.

Huffing, he folded over you, feeling like life had been pulled out of him once again, needing to be as close to you as possible as he grasped the fat of your ass between his fingers. "Fuck, love," he said, damn-near delirious, and the words slipped out before he knew what he was saying. "I would've made you a wife in my first life." But you didn't even have enough consciousness to process the never-before-said words that many before you would've given their very soul to hear.

As the world around you faded to black, the only thing you were aware of was the feeling of Gojo's body pressed against yours and him murmuring your name in your ear like a promise, and to this day you still don't know what he meant by putting your hard work to good use because after allowing him to have his way, his table was left in absolute shambles.

Those few minutes of pure, carnal delirium had burned into you, leaving you shook, figuratively and literally for weeks, even after the semester ended and you returned home for the summer.

And while most would think that would have been the best night in your entire existence and left you begging for more, it actually left you rattled to your core and questioning your sanity. Seeing him, feeling him, almost every night after in your dreams.

Convinced that the pressure of academics, a new city, and your overworked imagination had become too much, you made a choice—one that resulted in you transferring schools and never returning to New Orleans. You left behind your job and all the friends you made and told yourself that the encounter with Gojo had to be nothing more than a full mental breakdown. And yet...

The feeling of him lingered with you for years. So real, so vivid like he was somehow watching, somehow waiting for you to—

"Earth to beautiful." His voice sliced through your trip down memory lane, dragging you back to the present. You blink, realizing with a start that he was no longer sitting across from you.

Following his voice, your gaze darted to the left, and there he was again, lounging on one of the plush chairs in the corner of the restaurant.

You shift in your seat, hesitating as the memories collide with the present. "No," you start, remembering his question. "It wasn't that..."

Gojo's playful smile dims just a little but enough to notice. "Then enlighten me, doll, because last I remember, you just up and left without so much as a goodbye."

You swallow, the knot of guilt building in your stomach. "It wasn't because of you—"

His laugh cut through your words, sharp and bitter, echoing off the walls when he vanishes only to reappear behind you. "Sure didn't feel that way to me, sweetheart."

You whip around to face him, but he's already gone, reappearing across the room, his shoulder leaning against the wall. "You thought I wouldn't notice?" His arms cross. "Didn't even come back for a single shift, just left me hanging like I had done something wrong...no one's ever done that before." And the way he's trying to suppress the sadness in his voice lets you know that he's obviously still salty about it.

For once, the entertainer had his own entertainment—genuine, proper, and unlike anything he ever experienced in the life he knew before and even after death. And it had been stripped away from him just like that.

"I didn't—" And he's gone again, this time materializing at the bar, resting his elbows on it like this whole conversation is nothing but a joke because truthfully, "I've missed playing with you," he confesses.

Heat rises in your cheeks, a mixture of flustered embarrassment and lingering guilt, and you don't know how to feel anymore. "I didn't leave because of you," you insist, but even to you, it sounds weak.

"Then what was it?" Gojo taunts, appearing at a table closer to you, leaning forward in that all-too-familiar lazy, arrogant pose. "Got spooked? Couldn't handle me?" His defensiveness makes it clear he' isn't really listening. "Or maybe..." his voice drops low, "You liked it too much." And your pulse instantly spikes, his teasing combined with what may be a sliver of truth, making your skin prickle.

He watches you with a wolfish grin, knowing exactly what he's doing, how he's affecting you. And when the obvious look of frustration appears on your face before you start to chew him out, he's gone. And you've officially had it.

"Dammit, Gojo!" you snap, pushing up from his table. "Would you stop already?" Your eyes dart around for the source of your anger, trying to follow his shifting presence as he flickers in and out of view. "I came back to talk, not to play your stupid ass games again!" you shout, hoping that'll trigger him, but the room falls silent, the only sound being your own soft breath. You call for him but when he doesn't answer, for a moment, you feel regret, thinking maybe he's finally let his emotions get the best of him and he's disappeared forever.

"Tell me..." and in a sudden flicker, he's in front of you, his touch cold and electric as he softly brushes your cheek. "After all these years..." His fingers draw a slow line from your neck to your tummy. "Can you still feel me...down there?"

And your jaw slacks open,

You let out a short exhale, instinctively taking a step back, but Gojo is already pressing forward, making you stumble back until the cool wood of the bag digs into your lower back like déjà vu. You try to move but his hand is already on your waist, fingers possessively curling around you, and with a casual, effortless push, he hoists you onto the bar and parts your legs with ease before slotting himself between them as if he's always belonged there. And fuck it stirs something deep inside you.

You should be scrambling to get down, but you hate how easily your body reacts to him instead, how the pull between you feels just as strong as it did back then, as if the years apart meant nothing. But Gojo isn't afraid to throw away his ego to show you he misses you, even after all this time. And damn it, you feel absolutely insane realizing that part of you misses him too, even if it was just a few months of build-up and one explosive night.

But you're older now. You're not the same naïve girl he could easily swoon with a smirk and a whisper of words.

No, you were here for a reason and didn't hesitate to swallow down your confusing desire to stick to the mission. Even if it meant breaking his heart.

“Stop,” you say more to yourself than him, but the firmness in your voice surprises both of you. Pulling away from his lingering hands, you shake your head. “I’m not here for that.”

His hands freeze in place, and he leans back just enough to meet your eyes. “No?” He mocks surprise. “Then what are you here for, sweetheart? Because I’m having a hard time believing this isn’t it.”

You lift your chin, forcing out the words before you lose your nerve. “I need your help, Gojo.”

“Satoru,” he corrects you, but his smile slightly falters when he sees you’re serious.

“Help?” He tilts his head. “And here I thought you just missed me.” His smile widens, but there’s something dangerous in it now. Something that makes you remember just how unpredictable Gojo can be. And just you think he’s got the wrong idea and is going in for a kiss, he leans back and gives you space. He sighs, his arms crossing over his chest and gaze flickering over your face. “What could I possibly help you with?” And his willingness to listen is what surprises you the most, but you still can’t believe what you’re about to say, and you draw a steady breath to help get the words out.

“I need to find them.”

His brow quirks. “Them?”

“...the vampires.” And the second the word leaves your mouth, his grin falters.

For the first time since he appeared, the amusement completely drops from his face and suddenly, he's very careful with his words. “I thought you didn’t believe in that stuff.”

“I—” You hesitate, wanting to say that you don’t know what you believe in anymore. Never in your entire life did you expect to have a full-fledged conversation with a ghost, let alone be fucked into oblivion by one, but here you were, living reality as it was and anything was possible at this point, but instead, you just say what’s true. “Things have changed.”

“I see,” his eyes narrow as if weighing your words and he shrugs, walking off a bit. “Quite the 180,” he muses, “But who knows, maybe they’re real, maybe they’re not. Maybe I know,” and he turns back, leaning in. “Maybe I don’t,” he whispers.

His words taunt you, but it’s the look in his eyes that hold you captive, as if he’s trying to pull the truth right out of your skull. “Why? Why are you so eager to find them?” And you’re taken aback by his suddenly jealous tone. 

“It’s my friend…” you start, and you feel pathetic for wanting to cry. “She’s missing.”

Gojo’s face slightly softens, but he doesn’t speak. You just know that he’s listening, truly listening now.

“She started acting all…weird before she disappeared,” you continue, your throat tightening as the memories of you meeting in college race through your mind. You stayed friends after you left, but she never did. “She mentioned vampires once, but I just thought she was messing around. NOLA, y’know?” You shrug. “I blew it off,” you confess, “But now…she’s gone and I—now I don’t know what else to think.” And all of the despair you’ve been suppressing finds its way to your chest.  

But all Gojo cared about was getting an answer that satisfied him, and in an instant, he’s behind the bar, his fingers ghosting under your chin and tilting your head back until you’re forced to look at him. 

“So this is about your friend then? Not the vampires?”

Your face twists. “Yeah, of course, what else?”

He looks off to the side, muttering something under his breath. Then his eyes narrow, glinting with something unreadable as they snap back to yours. “And why do you think I’m just going to hand you that kind of information? That I would even have it?” And the temperature around you drops so sharply you can see your breath hanging in the air. 

The weight of what you're asking for sinks in when you see just how serious he is, even more so than the power Gojo holds, even if it is just secrets. And yet, here you are, asking him to hand it over like it was nothing. Your throat tightens, lips cold as you swallow hard, but you want him to know you're serious too. “Because I know you can help me, Satoru,” you say with deliberate emphasis. “I remember what you said once…about knowing things.”

If there was anyone in New Orleans who could provide the answers you needed, it was Gojo. He'd been around for centuries, passing through time and history and collecting secrets like currency with effortless charisma and casual conversation. He could easily draw out the most guarded truths from anyone he deemed important or anyone who fell for his seductive charm, always knowing which strings to pull. In this city where the supernatural runs deep, Gojo is a bank of information and the gatekeeper of everything hidden beneath the surface. And just from what you'd told him, he knew this situation was dire.

The silence that follows stretches too long for comfort, weighty as he just watches you with an unreadable expression. For a moment, panic flutters in your stomach.

Have you pushed him too far? Was this plan to reconnect with him for answers nothing more than a foolish misjudgment? What if Gojo chooses revenge and leaves you with nothing—all of this…for nothing?

But then, ever so slowly, that unmistakable smirk returns as he leans close enough to almost brush your cool lips. “Vampires, huh?” His mouth curls into a full, dangerous smile now. “You must be desperate, coming to me for that.”

Your gaze doesn’t waver, and you nod though you hate that it's true. “I am.” And Gojo chuckles, the sound both chilling and thrilling as he traces your jawline. “Then I suppose we’d better make this…interesting.” But you aren’t even surprised because if there was one thing you didn’t need to be told, it’s that Gojo never makes anything easy. Never has. But at least he’s willing to strike up a deal.

Gojo only agrees to tell you what you need to know on one condition: “I want to taste you,” he says simply, like it’s nothing. “That’s it.” And you can’t even fully process the words as his arm slips around your waist, gently pulling your back against his chest, his hand snaking down to find home between your legs. “I didn’t get to properly the first time,” he muses, his breath cool against your neck. Sharing the sentiment as if he knows you may never come back. 

Your pulse quickens, the gravity of what he’s asking settling in. Memories of that night—the sheer intensity of it—clouding your judgment and flooding your mind like the heat building between your legs. The request hangs between you like a blade. Giving you a choice, but you know there’s no real option here. If you refuse, he might not give you what you need. But if you agree…

“That’s it?” you whisper. He nods. And after a moment’s ponder as his fingers tease against your skin and spur your decision, history repeats itself when you once again say yes.

In an instant, he’s on his knees in front of you, eliciting a gasp from you when he swiftly pulls you to the edge of the bar. He blissfully hums, his hands gliding up and down your thighs like silk before parting them like the Red Sea. He ogles you, the blue of his eyes flaring at the sight of your unclothed and oh-so-pretty, glistening cunt confirming what he already knew, that the lace panties you used to summon him had come freshly off your body. 

His eyes darken with desire, never leaving yours as he leans in. "This. This is all I want," he murmurs, and his lips brush the inside of your thigh with a featherlight touch.

“Mmph.” Your fingers curl into fists as you fight the urge to grab his hair and guide him to where you’ve been throbbing the most. Because despite your words earlier, the way your body responds to his touch, every tremble, every subtle sigh, doesn't lie. 

You wanted this as badly as he did. 

But Gojo is in control; his movements deliberate, slow, and savoring every inch of your exposed skin.

And he’s determined to show you exactly what you’ve been missing. 

His cool breath fans against your skin, his lips soft, teasing, and leaving a trail of icy fire as they move closer and closer to your center, to the source of your intoxicating scent that hooked him like an addict from the moment you first entered the restaurant six years ago. 

Your fingers clench the bar's edge, the cool wood a poor substitute for the touch you crave.

God, you wish he’d stop toying with you. Even when you give in and give him exactly what he wants, he still finds a way to make everything a game.

And just when you’re ready to huff and puff, you draw a sharp breath, the first flick of his tongue against your sensitive flesh almost making you fall to pieces. Your back arches as if struck by lightning, unable to help the moan that echoes in the deserted restaurant.

His hands grip your hips, holding you in place as he delves deeper, circling his tongue around your puffy clit and puckering hole. And he’s true to his word, taking his time to explore and properly savor you with long, languid strokes that have you gripping the bar until your knuckles turn white. 

Like a man possessed, his hands claim your thighs, devouring you with a maddening intensity and leaving you breathless. A sinful blend of pleasure and arousal as he navigates your most sensitive spots as if he’s done so a hundred times. Cooing into your folds, slurping your juices like a refreshment, making you completely surrender and his name slip from your lips in a desperate, needy whisper. 

He smiles against your bud he sucks like a popsicle, your brows furrowing and body arching as he expertly brings you to the brink of desperate release. “Patience, sweetheart.” Gojo looks up at you, eyes gleaming with mischief as his tongue swipes at the taste of you on his lips. “Good things come to those who wait.”

But waiting is the last thing on your mind as you stare at him, your body aching for more before his lips hover just above your throbbing core. You’re holding your breath without realizing it, every nerve in your body attuned to his every move before he’s on you again, his fingers digging into your flesh and the slight sting only heightens the pleasure coursing through your veins.

“Fuck baby,” he laps, a digit slipping into your tight walls, “I’ve missed this.” Adding a second that hooks right onto your G-spot and shoots stars into your eyes—making it worse by slurping your clit into his mouth in a nasty combination while pushing in and out.

The pressure inside you mounts and your eyes roll uncontrollably as you teeter on the edge. Your breaths come in sharp, ragged gasps as your body winds up so tightly it feels like you might shatter as you chase the sensation, hips bucking into Gojo’s face.

His hands clamp down on your thighs. “Stay still,” he commands, his low growl vibrating through you. But his words only fan the flames of your desperation, whimpers escaping you before he’s back at it, his tongue dancing over your clit with fiery precision. 

You’re about to beg, to plead for release, hands scrambling to grasp him when you know you can’t when he slightly pulls back. 

His gaze locks onto yours. “Now,” he says, “Now you can touch me.” And for a moment, you’re not sure you’ve heard him correctly. 

But then you feel it—the change like a switch has been flipped—a newfound solidity where there has been none before that your body instinctively responds to. 

You reach out, tentative at first, and find yourself shocked when your fingers graze the top of his head. His hair is unexpectedly soft; threading your fingers through the silky strands and gripping them lightly as your legs wrap around his shoulders to pull him closer to chase ecstasy. 

Years have gone by, lovers have come and go, but nobody, nobody has been able to slurp, suck, or devour you anywhere near as close as Gojo. He eats you with a passion, with a determination to make you fall apart and come undone like the pleasure is more his than yours. If you could say there was ever a true eater who ever walked this earth, the first person you think of is him. And if you were around in the 1800s, you probably would have tried to trap him and ride his face into the sunset too. 

You pull him flush into your cunt and grind your clit against his tongue without remorse. And it’s that low, guttural hum, his nose nuzzling deep against your folds like a madman and fingers harshly curling right against that perfect, gummy spot in you that finally sends you toppling right over. With a final, drawn-out moan, you shatter beneath his touch and the world explodes into a kaleidoscope of color and light. 

Your legs tighten around him, holding him in place as you ride out the storm of pleasure, grasping his platinum locks with both hands and drenching his face with your sweet release as you cum harder than you have in 6 years.  

Your mouth falls open in shock, embarrassment flushing your body from both squirting for the first time and expecting Gojo to release you in disgust, but his only response is a low hum of approval, and his hands slide up your body to pin your writhing hips down and drink as he pleases. Not missing a single drop. 

Your body pulses with aftershocks on his tongue, each wave weaker than the last but he doesn’t stop. And when your eyes cross from the overstimulation, you beg and blubber until you can’t anymore and finally collapse on the bar, panting and covered in a sheen of sweat as you come down from the high.

Full and satisfied, Gojo slowly pulls away, a smug slip playing on his lips as he licks them. Gazing up at you, his eyes—bluer than ever—roam over your flushed form. “Delicious as ever,” and his praise is almost as sweet as the sight of you. “Now,” he says, rising to his feet, “About those vampires…”

You take a second. “Right…,” and huff, “the vampires.” You’re so spent you almost forgot what you came here for, your core feeling tight and sore as you attempt to sit up. Little groans slip out before Gojo catches you off-guard, smashing his lips against yours in the first kiss you two have ever had—letting you taste yourself on his cool tongue and making your head swim. You could lose yourself it in, seeming to go on forever as his possessive hands roam all over your body.

You moan into his mouth. “Go-Satoru.” Trying to fight the heady feeling, but you should’ve known better. An indulgent man like Gojo would never stop at just one taste.  

He can feel you slowly cracking, and when he finally breaks the kiss, your lips are left swollen and tingling before he steals your breath again when he begins rutting against you. 

“I want to fuck you down on my cock so bad.” His face is buried in the crook of your neck, breaths coming in short, ragged pants—sick off of the scent of your hair. “Would that be so bad?” 

“Satoru,” you breathe out, a plea, a warning? You’re not sure which. “We had a deal, Satoru,” you remind him, struggling to hold onto any semblance of control. The sensation of his length rubbing against your sensitive and still-soaking core is almost too much and a solid reminder how full you were that night, and how full you could be again.

For a moment, it feels like he won't stop—and maybe you don’t want him to. But your resolve, silent yet firm, cuts through Gojo’s haze of desire, even if your body isn’t strong enough to resist and push him away yourself. And with a soft, almost reluctant sigh, Gojo huffs, and swears to himself as he's the one to pull away.

You swipe your bottom lip, for a second missing his on yours, and it takes a moment for you to clear your head, your hands unsteady as they fumble to straighten your clothes and fix yourself up as you slide off the bar. It's only after several deep breaths that your pulse begins to steady, and you can meet his eyes and that same infuriating smirk as he crosses his arms.

“Tsh, you’re no fun,” he teases, but there’s a note of respect in his voice. 

Ignoring his comment, you square your shoulders. “I need to know how to find them, Gojo.”

His hand flies to his chest. “Ouch.” You roll your eyes. “Alright, alright,” he relents, running a hand through his hair. “A deal’s a deal.” He casually leans back against the bar, his tone turning back to business. “You want to find the vampires? The best way is to start with the hunters.”

You frown in confusion. “Hunters? …Vampire hunters?”

He nods, looking at you like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You find the hunters, you find the vampires.” His voice is calm, but the words hit you like a train.

Oh, this is real. 

Very, very real. 

And your blood runs cold at the weight of your situation, of what you’re getting into.

Your friend wasn’t just caught up in some strange myth or superstition.

You’re not just playing detective anymore.

It was one thing to try to be brave and find out what happened, but it was another to step into the world of those who hunted them, those who lived every moment of their existence on the edge of life and death—purposely seeking out something so dangerous that they have to be exterminated.

“What? You scared now?” His head tilts, noticing your hesitation. “It’s simple,” he laughs, “You get in with them, you’re as good as gold.” And though his words offer the solution you’ve been searching for, they also bring a chilling new reality. And you have to decide if you’re really ready cross a line you can never uncross.

You swallow hard, your mouth suddenly dry. “And how do I find them?”

Gojo grins. “You don’t find them, sweetheart.” He pushes off the bar. “They find you.” He takes a few slow steps towards you. “Especially someone like you. They’ll practically smell the desperation.”

Your eyes narrow at his comment. Desperation? You’ve been called worse.

Nevertheless, your heart hammers in your chest, each beat trying to signal your impending doom. 

“So, what? I just wait around for them to find me?” Frustration creeps into your tone.

Gojo waves his hand. “No, no, no,” he laughs. “You need to be smarter than that.” And he becomes more serious. “Make yourself known in the right circles. Go to the places they frequent. Show them you’re not someone they can just ignore. Play the part.” And you’re quick to pull out your phone and jot down the few places he rattles off.

As you type, a heaviness creeps in—a strange air shifting between you and Gojo. He watches you carefully, noticing how tired you look, the subtle sag of your shoulders, how your sigh carries the weight of exhaustion. This whole ordeal has felt like one long rollercoaster, but this is just the beginning of your even more difficult journey. And even though he knows what you’re in for, he can’t help but admire your determination.

"You know...I meant what I said before."

You don't look up, finishing up your notes. "About what?" 

"About making you…" he hesitates, but doesn't finish.

But something feels off, and when you glance up from your phone, you catch Gojo’s eyes.

There’s no more teasing. No more smirking. He’s watching you with something else, something that feels heavy yet unreadable. And it clicks weird when a vibe passes through the both of you, simultaneously realizing that the time to part ways has once again come. 

And you’re just as lost now as you were then about how to say goodbye. 

There’s a strange, bittersweet feeling in the pit of your stomach as you watch him casually stroll back to the table where this all started.

“Don’t.” He plops down, sensing what you’re about to say. “I’ve never been good at those.” And though it flashes through your mind that he’s been bitter for six years because you never did the first time, you respect his wish and don’t say it this time either, only pursing your lips and offering a slight nod.

As you turn to leave, Gojo calls after you, softer now, almost…concerned. 

“Be careful.” 

And it’s enough to make you stop and glance back at him, caught off-guard by the sudden shift in his tone. He pushes his glasses up with a small smile, a little sparking reflecting off the lenses.

“But I don’t have to tell you that.”

And just like that, the moment hangs between you—unspoken thoughts and unfinished sentences floating heavy in the space.

You softly laugh, glancing down at your hands to fiddle with your fingers, trying to swallow the thanks welling up in your throat. The last thing you want is to make this moment any more awkward than it already is—as if this entire night hasn’t been batshit crazy. 

Gojo may have made your life a living hell during one of the most pivotal times of your youth, but he’s also one of the most unforgettable things that’s ever happened to you. And it’s in this moment that you finally decide that maybe…that wasn’t so bad. 

…Fuck it. 

You decide to say something anyway. 

But when you turn back to look at him, he’s gone. His scent, his aura, vanished, like he was never there at all. Only leaving the restaurant which sits still and lifeless. Chilling…because it’s never felt so…warm.

“...Thank you,” you whisper to the empty space he left behind, the words feeling almost weightless as you slowly exit the space for what may actually be the last time. It feels strangely freeing, the weight of the night finally easing as you take one last look before the doors close behind you with a quiet click.

Stepping outside into the warm New Orleans air feels so different now like you’ve left something behind in that old restaurant. 

Maybe it’s Satoru.

Maybe it’s a part of yourself that knows things will never quite be the same after this.

It feels like you’ve just spent eternity trapped behind those vintage green doors, and now the world outside looks both familiar and frightening, but the night air hits you like a fresh start.

You're really going to do this. You're going to find the hunters, and through them, the vampires. And then... well, you’ll deal with that when the time comes.

After all, you've already faced a devil, and you're still standing. 

What's a few vampires compared to that?

angel's note: bwahahaha, why do i even bother trying to condense things? ghost gojo was not supposed to have his own part, let alone (blank)K WORDS, he enjoyed reader waaaaay more than intended but obviously, i am not in control of my own stories. but yoooo, first and foremost, the BIGGEST of fucking s/o to @blkkizzat for helping me bring this story to fruition. i told her that i wanted to do a sugucho vampire fic and she said "bitch, where's ghost gojo??" so you have her to thank for this absolutely delectable first part

no worries tho, it's nothing but vampires and blood-sucking 🩸 from here on out, so drop ya name below if you want to be added to the tag list|sidenote: this post lining up with the full moon was not on purpose 😶 graphic credits: fangs banner (anitalenia)|glitter blood divider (violentbudd)|halloween MDNI divider (meeeee :3)|animated red divider (cafekitsune)

art credits: Sugu: 1 (hidouuc) 2 (blobfishswims) 3 (rice5x)|Cho: 1 (yappdoll) 2 (n/a) 3 (koshinomli) 4 (zeilorene)| Toru: 1 (_3aem) 2 (jjk_myaa) 3 (nala_bert) 4 (yurriima)

[woso-dreamzzz]

Breakfast V

Ellie Carpenter x Daniëlle van de Donk x Child!Reader

Summary: You get hurt

Ellie didn't know what could constitute picking you up from Lindsey's in the middle of date night but all she knew was one minute she was going to the bathroom and the next Daan was running in saying that they had to leave.

You're in tears when she and Daan get there, sitting on Lindsey's sofa as you sob.

You've got one hell of a black eye. It was practically swelled shut and you were cradling your right wrist, keeping it close to your body as you cry.

"Mamma," You cry, reaching out your good hand for Daan," Het doet pijn (it hurts)."

Ellie has no idea what you're saying but she gets the general gist of it as Daan inspects you.

"What the hell happened?!" She demands.

"She slipped!" Lindsey replies, throwing her arms up as if to defend herself," Down the stairs! It was an accident!"

Ellie wants to scream at Lindsey for not watching you properly but settles on bringing the first aid kit over to Daan so she could wrap your wrist.

It doesn't look too bad, just a little sensitive but Ellie still knows you'll be going straight to the doctor tomorrow morning to get it checked out properly.

She knows you're okay (at least, she knows that it's not worth a hospital visit) but it doesn't stop Ellie from shoulder checking Lindsey on the way out.

Daan sits in the back with you on the way home and you curl into her so easily that Ellie imagines that's what you used to do when you were younger and still living in London.

You're exclusively speaking Dutch as well which is something Ellie barely has a grasp on besides the basics.

Frankly, this is all freaking her out. Not your injuries, Ellie can deal with that but just how distraught and emotional you are. She's never seen you like this before, curled up on Daan's lap like the little kid you actually are.

You wipe your nose on Daan's shirt and she doesn't even blink, gently stroking your back and whispering to you in equally soft Dutch.

"Mijn oog doet pijn en mijn pols (my eye hurts and my wrist)," You say as Daan inspects you again.

Your eye is looking better now that you've gotten home and kept an ice pack pressed against it. The swelling has mostly gone down so you can open and close it again but it's still turning a purplish colour.

Your wrist didn't seem sprained or broken either, just sensitive so hopefully sleeping in the bandage tonight will stave off the worst of it and the trip to the doctors will confirm that.

"Sorry dat ik date night onderbrak (sorry for interrupting date night)."

Mamma just shakes her head, pulling you even closer to her. "Nee, verontschuldig je niet. Het was een ongeluk. Je hoeft je nergens voor te verontschuldigen (no, don't apologise. It was an accident. You have nothing to apologise for)."

You don't quite believe her but Mamma doesn't lie to you so you have to take her word for it.

Her arms around you are warm and safe and you're tucked securely under her chin where nothing bad can happen to you.

"Mamma," You say," Ik denk niet dat ik morgen naar turnen kan gaan (I don't think I can go to gymnastics tomorrow)."

Whatever you say has a little bubble of laughter exit Daan's mouth and Ellie relaxes considerably. She's been completely lost for most of the conversation but Daan doesn't seem too worried with what you're saying so she relaxes.

She stays on the edges though, hovering. She isn't quite sure what she's meant to do.

Sure, she and Daan are getting married and, sure, she's got adoption papers that are being filed after the wedding but she's never been in a situation like this.

Ellie isn't sure if she's overstepping by coming into the little bubble of comfort that you've created with Daan. She's not exactly sure of the procedure for this kind of thing.

You seem to know though.

You catch Ellie standing there from the corner of your eyes and you put a hand over Daan's shoulder to reach for her.

"Mum," You whine," Mum."

Ellie's body moves on auto-pilot, her hand capturing your own as she sits next to Daan, squished up against you both as close as she can get. Her brain doesn't even realise what you've called her.

It all seems so natural, to you and to her.

There's no reason to make a big thing about it. It was always going to happen eventually.

You move from Daan to Ellie, wiggling in her lap for a moment before going almost completely limp, like you were sleeping but Ellie knew you weren't.

You curled into Ellie like how you curled into Daan, completely relaxed and boneless.

"Mag ik bij jou en Mum in bed slapen (can I sleep in bed with you and Mum)?" You ask Mamma.

"I think that can be arranged."

[ragequeen94]

An absolute insane stream of consciousness about ghost and everything else...

Been thinking about the title "Emeritus"....

It has meaning:

- a person retired from professional life but permitted to retain as an honorary title the rank of the last office held.

....Now I'm assuming the ministry works how the actual catholic church works and the choose a name. Like when your picked to be pope you pick a biblical name instead of your real name....

Their real names being... primo, secondo, etc.... and in assuming those are first names unless Nihil was able to find women with numerical last names IN ORDER all willing to having his satanic church bastards. Which for him seems possible but I digress.

It just seems like an interesting choice of title. (Especially for a wild little sweed) and what he was trying to say... perhaps just that they are "past their prime"? They have the title only because they are old?

Also thinking about the usage of "bloodline"... now we all think it's because of Nihil and his breeding fetish. Which may be true. But I'd like to bring up the secondo Papaganda where the "special ghoul" is talking about Secondo and the bloodline...

We can pretend that in this universe, those characters are... real? Easy. Or perhaps they are all "choosen" perhaps the bloodline actually being more children chosen by darkness? Or the devil? Now the three confirmed brothers and now also Copia are all Nihil children, we are about to get Papa V... and is realistic to believe it's Copias twin (also because his name is literally copy in italian) but a copy of who? The only other character could be .... Father Jim??

I'm 100% sure that his name was picked for this reason... but is he being dethroned? Is he dethroning?? We don't know much besides that he's kind of a shit priest and uses cum as hair gell....

And that all other Papas have been dethroned as well for also not being good at their jobs. Interesting. Maybe a comment on hypocrisy with the satanic church having higher standards for leadership??

Also Copia is Imperator now...

Which literally means commander. But commander only lead armies... they aren't kings or emperors and even Sister Imperator was answering the phone to someone she was respectful and obedient too. (See that one chapter when nihil was on the toilet)... I'm pretty sure it wasn't Psaltarian.... but what does that name mean??

My best guess is either someone who documents OR

Which is basically a kinda early guitar.... so hes... the band manager??

I don't think he's running the church. So there are way more characters and story to uncover.

What I can say I at this point... we know absolutely nothing and nothing makes sense.

Fuckin... since we know copia is Imperator and Nihils kid and he's the youngest... and Secondo and Terzo are 3 months apart and can't have the same mother.... Nihil had had 3 children with a minimum of 2 other women already by the time he met Imperator.

And let's pretend everything we see in the MV and the chapters is canon legit. Nihil was a little unsure of what was going on at the party... but that doesn't mean he wasn't already part of the church. We know that Ghost is just the public relations section of the ministry. Not THE MINISTRY... they are important but one one piece. They are the face or figure head. Which is pretty much said word for word. PAPA STILL ANSWERS TO A HIGHER POWER. Who or what we don't know.

Nihil and his father (and his fathers father, his father... his father... hid father's father's father... his father) are all part of the bloodline. All this means is that they are related or choosen by... the devil? That Dracula and the Canadian guy who wrote "Hallelujah" are related??

Or that all of these characters/people are entertainers.

Is the ministry just a record label? Each papa a musician trying to make it?? It's all a metaphor for stardom?? Probably.

Basically papa nihil could have easily been part of the church before he met Imperator. She just got him involved in the ghost project (her project by the sound of it). Then when it fell through got nihils kids involved... cause... why. We don't know.

We have Nihil who is... nothing.

Psaltarian that... writer? Manager?

Imperator the commander.

Defroque the cum guzzling priest.

And the Papas who are all already passed their prime?? but they picked the name.

But nihil wasn't an Emeritus.

Unless nihil was the name he picked and we don't even know his name... and he named his kidd first second and third cause he thought it was funny.

Also it's 100% that Imperator named Copia.

Is he a copy of his twin (or just a copy in general) or is he a copy of his father? Or of her????

Please dear fucking unholy shit can someone hyperfixate with me....

[jokeroutsubs]

Nace Jordan on the cover of Slovenian tabloid Lady (22 February 2023)

Nace Jordan from the band Joker Out

"They even impressed grandma Marija"

Nace Jordan is not a new name on the Slovenian music scene, as his bass guitar can be heard in many songs by various music artists, and we also spent some time with him on the entertainment show 'V Petek Zvečer' (On Friday Night). But he, of course, is having the time of his life since he became an indispensable member of the hottest music band in Slovenia at the moment, our Eurovision representatives, Joker Out.

"The rest of the guys tell me that I can just chill and be happy because I joined them now when they're having the best of times," says Nace Jordan, who can't hide his excitement about becoming a member of Joker Out. "I'm very positive by nature and I find something good in everything, and coming into the band is definitely one of the best things that has happened to me." He also feels a little troubled about it, though. "What if someone says that now that Nace has come into the group, it's going downhill. You never know, that's just how I think," he says self-critically, but he has nothing to fear. Bojan Cvjetičanin, the singer of the group, knew who he was calling when he invited him for a coffee. "Having jumped into some bands before as a substitute, I knew it could be very difficult. Especially if there are some disagreements in the band. So I first asked Bojan if they had had a fight. And him confirming to me that they didn't was the decisive factor that made me accept the invitation," says the 28-year-old from Kranj.

Caption 1: Nace Jordan is the newest and the oldest member of the band Joker Out.

From dreams to reality

Nace joined the band with a wealth of musical experience, as the description of his work states that he is a musician, bassist and producer. But he started -like most young people- with the dream of becoming a singer. "I loved to sing when I was little and I always said I would be a singer when I grew up. Then my cousin, Miha Zore, also a musician, inspired me to pick up the guitar for the first time.

At home, they didn't want to buy it for him because they were convinced that his first enthusiasm would soon pass. Then he found his mother's old guitar at his grandmother's house, and he practised so hard that his parents relented. However, he switched to bass guitar quite early on, because he realised that there was a shortage of bass guitarists in this country. He says he is self-taught, but he has had some very good mentors, including Primož Grašič, Matej Hotek and Englishman Scott Devine, who has one of the biggest bassist schools on YouTube today. There are also his musical friends Denis Beganović - Kiki, a renowned multi-instrumentalist from the Primorska region, who played with Magnifico for a long time, and his drummer colleagues David Morgan, who plays with Avtomobili, and Anže Langus, who he says believed in him, supported him and opened many doors for him. "I'm grateful to all of them for passing on their knowledge and encouraging me," he says modestly, adding that he also had a hand in writing down the tunes. "That's why they call me a musical jukebox. I am lucky that I learn a tune quickly and remember it quickly. Today, for example, I still know all 200 songs, including quite a few German shlager songs, that I played on a cruise ship one summer, by heart."

Nace earned his first real money from music when he went to play on a cruise ship at the age of 18. "At a jam session in Kranj, I met musicians who told me about working on the ship. I auditioned and was selected. We then cruised the Baltic with Maja Založnik and others and played," he says, easily recalling those days. It is much harder when he has to remember all the musicians he later worked with as a bassist. "I have fond memories of working with Katarina Mala. I loved playing with Samuel Lucas and his band. I accompanied Nina Pušlar a few times. I consider it an honour to have worked with Elda Viler. And I could go on and on." But he prefers to stop, because he really doesn't want to forget anyone, and he admits that he will miss his musical friends from V petek zvečer (On Friday Night), with whom he had a great time for two years. He is now saying goodbye to them, as he would not be able to bear being on two ends at the same time. At the same time as saying goodbye to the show, he is also saying goodbye to the hat that has been his trademark for many years. "I put that hat on my head for the first time in 2013 and people liked it so much that they kept asking me about it. Then it started annoying me because I realised that people thought I was bald. So I took it off, because I have a fine haircut," he explains with a laugh, running his fingers through his hair.

Caption 2: "The real passion is not the music, it's the people you make it with, play it with. And that's what I've got now," says the satisfied Kranj inhabitant. PHOTO: Primož Lavre

Night jogging

As befits a true Gorenjska inhabitant, Nace also likes to ski, but this winter that is not an option. "Just recently, Bojan and I, who is a keen snowboarder like me, were talking about how good it would be to go skiing. But we really can't afford it this year, because it would be unwise to get injured before Eurovision," he says. He still has some sporting activities to do despite Eurovision. "Apart from skiing, I really like swimming, badminton and running. The latter is still the one I do the most, but I'm probably the funniest runner in the world. I'm the slowest and the latest. I like to run between 11 p.m. and midnight. This stayed with me from the days when I was much heavier, and I felt awkward running in the daytime. But I really enjoy running," he admits. Since he's sculpted his physique, he also enjoys looking in the mirror. Nace finds it easy to talk about the period when he was chubby, but he prefers to explain that he feels much better since he started to pay attention to his diet due to health problems. "When I started to watch what I ate, the weight just melted off. I found a lot of useful things online and I've put together a lunch menu of seven dishes that I really like." Nace mostly cooks for himself, but he is also very grateful to his mother Darja for helping him now that he is busy. Even though they have not always been enthusiastic about his musical pursuits, his family has always been there for him. "I listened to them for a long time, wondering 'When will our Nace find a job?', but now I know they are happy for me. They see that I enjoy what I do, that it's such a big part of me that I can't do without it. And just the other day at lunch, my grandmother Marija said: 'Well, now we're going to have a celebrity in the family too?'" he tells, laughing.

Caption 3: He enjoys being on stage because he is always 100% ready to perform.

Article by: Simona Dakič Nemanič

Scans and translation by: @kurooscoffee

[bluginkgo]

Debunking Old Theories

As a fun way to see what was wrong and what was right, I decided to go back to all of my old theories and see which ones are the craziest XD

Spoilers duh, oh and gore warning? Kinda?

I mean... that scary *ss mother facking thing towards the end- you know what I'm talking about if you watched the ep 😅

This theory was me going into a long chat about who the double x'ed eyed person could be on the poster that was teased waaaay back when. Although I did not out right say who it could have possibly been, I did notice I had some interesting thoughts going on.

"What if the double x'ed character is someone we already know... but is dead? A character that is confirmed/somewhat confirmed to be dead can return back to life, and their body forced to move by the absolute solver."

So the idea was sort of there. That the solver basically took the body of someone presumed dead and forced it to move.

I suppose it kind of works. Tessa, at this point, seems very much so dead. And her skin was used to get a drone through the security system.

This theory was made in a random fit of craziness I think. And basically talked about how Uzi's admin program could allow for DDs to tap into the Absolute Solver powers without becoming fully corrupted (based off of @/jazzstarrlight's concept art). Thus, turning into Uzi and Doll with solver powers. Although this might happen in ep8, I'm highly doubtful. But I was right about this:

"Uzi did SOMETHING, who knows what at this point, but her switching the admin program is important. Given that N and V haven't turned into the gooey flesh monsters quite yet like we see in Home, I'd say absolute solver string is still blocked to a certain degree."

And sure enough, the admin program holds out. Preventing the Absolute Solver to corrupt DDs and force them to become mindless murder drones that they were back on Earth.

This theory was taking a jab at the figure we saw in ep4.

And I attempted to reason as to who made the image. First shot was Doll, and that's a hard no lol. Second shot was the double X'ed person and well...

I guess I was right? The thing that Tessa is now, is just a solver drone wearing human skin. And she has all the solver drone powers, being able to call forth the claws and teleportation powers seen with the Absolute Solver. So for her to create the image, or it IS the entity wearing Tessa's skin, is not too far fetched. @brookiedaaroacecookie I saw your tag, and realized I had attempted something similar a very long time ago... 😅

This theory had me going crazy over solver's laughter. Easily debunked. It was aesthetic choice. Also the line "Hahahaha, thanks for giving me the planet. Fricking idiot." Never made it into ep7, but I will not put it past Liam to use this in ep8 instead! Addressing either N or Uzi.

N: Thanks for giving me yet another planet. You unintentionally lead Uzi straight into her demise, and thus set off the second core collapse.

Uzi: Thanks for giving me the planet. You dummy who jumped in to sacrifice yourself and save N.

This theory had me going in to how Tessa was suspicious. Debunk this little sh*t real quick, most of this was wrong :3 J was sent out to "mind the ship" to destroy the escape pod that Uzi has been working on. It's still unclear to me whether J is siding with Tessa entity because she believes that's the true Tessa, or simply because she knows that it is the Absolute Solver wearing skin of a human. Something I did notice as well was I mentioned Tessa's hand injury. It never came up in this episode. But you know what my crazy brain did? Made another theory!

So the Absolute Solver did tell Tessa "You will not have to discard your pets, and I will not discard you." But hang on a second. The Absolute Solver appears to have skinned Tessa and used her, how is this not discarding? To back this up a little, the solver did in fact keep its promise. It allowed the main DD trio to keep their personalities. The "pets" were not discarded. Now as for Tessa, she was not discarded either- Ginkgo you crazy idiot, she's dead, that's her skin. But that's exactly it. The Absolute Solver, like any good villain, is capable to playing with words. It never specified what "discarding" meant, or to what degree. Just like with the DDs, Tessa was also not discarded. She was repurposed. Her skin used to further the Absolute Solver's plans just like the DDs were. Could I be wrong and could this skin actually not be Tessa? Sure, there's always that chance! But with how Tessa entity looked and acted, I'll stick by the idea that she's very much dead.

Back to the hand injury though, here's the theory I came up with. The Absolute Solver may or may not have kept Tessa alive post the gala massacre.

After all, the image is still redacted, and we do not know if by then the solver already had used her to create the monstrosity that is 1001. But if the solver did keep her alive, it kept its promise. Tessa was not discarded. But perhaps a condition of hers caused her body to slowly wither away. In a fit of fear, she might have gone to the solver for help. So the solver gave her purpose. Crazy idea? Yup, nothing new here XD

This theory is also very out there XD The summary of it is that I believe Cyn is on the good side. Because why send out DDs with a way of blocking out the Absolute Solver instead of fully corrupting them? Why send out DDs to a hub that had two very powerful solver drones? I'll put this theory to rest I believe. Because at this point, Cyn appears to be very much so dead. Whatever corporal body she may have had back at the manor is now gone, basing it off of the massacre that was on Earth. Another quote that made me realize that this was all just the Absolute Solver playing around was this:

N was the main reason that the Absolute Solver allowed the DD trio to keep their personalities. This means that the administration CYN was in place to keep the solver from corrupting the trio just to keep their personalities. All of this just because the solver enjoyed watching the trio run around believing like they can do something to fix this huge mess. Now, are there chances of Cyn still reappearing and helping the gang? Sure! I don't see why not. And I'll be pleasantly surprised if Liam does pull that route.

This theory has Cyn! To summarize this one, I basically took another attempt on figuring out how Liam's drawing of Cyn in the sea of red could be relevant. Of course, it did not show up this time around, but I noticed a couple things that I said kind of lined up.

"I can imagine it, N and Uzi fighting whatever the thing is in the Cabin Fever labs. Uzi somehow ends up either being knocked out or full possession occurs, either way, her subconsciousness is transported into this realm of red." Well uhh...

Not quite red... but somewhere!

"This might be the place where all the hosts' minds connect- the hive mind/cloud based system. Here, Uzi might meet Cyn and even Nori- I know I'm stretching it, but this is just me rambling my own thoughts. And keeping on with my belief in good Cyn theory, Cyn might help Uzi out. She might tell Uzi the origin of the absolute solver- how the AI error came about. Uzi might end up chatting with Cyn or directly with the Absolute Solver, all the while her body is posessed by the said Absolute Solver. She'd be going on another rampage, probably fighting N."

So we do find that Nori is still in fact alive, though after getting punted like a ball into the Absolute Solver hole, I'm not quite sure. XD But I will keep this theory for ep8 for now. The idea that Cyn's mind may connect and chat with Uzi is still quite appealing to me. And well, I guess Uzi did fight with N. And I will keep that theory too and simply carry it over to ep8. We know the last mural is of N, and he will most likely be fighting the very last Absolute Solver form. Uzi's consciousness may connect with that form and work together with N from the inside to get rid of the solver on Copper-9 for good.

This theory had me going crazy about Uzi's core. Because up until now, we don't really get to see her core very well. Perhaps its the design, but at times when the angles are right, we ought to see the WD hat picture poking through... but we don't. There's two routes from here still:

Either its just an animation detail that is unimportant. This is just simply how she was designed

Something is still hiding there. This one, I'm quickly losing faith on. Because when we saw Nori, her symbol was normal- turned yellow when possessed of course, but that is understandable. There was nothing that was off about Nori, Yeva, or Doll and their cores. I do not see how Uzi's core will be any different. Instead, I wanna know WHAT THE FACK THIS IS XD

This theory was a chat about Tessa's three ships. And this one still stumps me. Because Tessa was there for the sole purpose of getting down into the lab, finding out how many more of the hosts were left, kill them, get the crucifix, destroy it, and maybe send Copper-9 off into another core collapse. If that's the case, and with how she has been engineered... WHY DOES SHE NEED THREE SHIPS??? Most of them were filled with junk, unless they do hold something important that we have yet to see. For now, this one is gonna be burning in the back. Because this was either a diversion and a way to make us believe that this Tessa may have been real, or they actually serve a purpose.

This theory was regarding the teaser and how maybe Uzi would have to go through an exorcism. Ahahaha, yeah, so there was exorcism! IN FORM OF SLAPS FROM NORI XD and uhhh... a "sacrifice" on Uzi's part ;w;

This theory was on the teaser that was released. And it is this one that will be the most FUN to gut >:3

First, the corridor with the sentinels never made it into the actual episode. Which makes me leave V as MIA still. Delusional? Perhaps, most likely. But like I said. I will not call her dead until I see a body or an eldrich version of her. The one that was in the cathedral was a mere hologram.

Concerned N... AHAHAHAHAHH I WAS SO WRONG LET'S GO!!! N was very upset, yes, but not about something he saw ahead, but about something the gang left BEHIND: V. That entire scene is gonna be on my mind for a bit too long.

The vortex around the cathedral took place during the flashback scene... but still doesn't really explain why there's RAIN in a CAVE. But oh well XD

So I was somewhat right about the sequence of events with "Dr. Chambers" and Uzi watching the tape. More so on the fact that whatever Uzi watched on the tape made her solver go haywire.

Welp, Tessa did help Uzi in this scene ;w; My poor soul, the NUzi angst is delicious but dangit it's still angst.

And I was wrong about Khan being there... KIND OF. Cause he still showed up XD But yes, the gravity did take a quick break because the Absolute Solver in the core is starting to act out.

Feral N was not killing Nori, at least not in this scene XD Man, that entire sequence had my jaw on the floor. It was amazing.

Uzi's eye did burst, from strain of using the solver to... *sobs* protect from N's mindless rage and attempts to clear the elevator. ;w; UGH that scene is gonna be stuck with me for a long while.

Well, the theory that Doll is fighting with Tessa did come true- but I also theorized using all the characters, so it wasn't quite fair.

Omg it's that math meme XD But hey, I had the Nori part! This was Nori and she was being contained in this manner because the new patch of the Absolute Solver was making her go haywire.

And finally this theory. "Now, as for the crack theory: I think the absolute solver is now the center/core of copper-9."

Well... Kind of I guess? But we don't get to see the extent of it. We simply shown how deep the hole truly is, and it can easily reach into the core of the planet. "But what if you take 10, or 50, or 100 corrupted cores and fuse them together? Sure, a single solver drone may not make that big of an impact, but we don't know how long the list of drones that were experimented on down in the labs was." Answer is at the very least 129 drones XD

Let me know if I missed any of my old theories. I've been doing nothing but typing out theories for the past 2 days straight. ;w; What hyper fixations do to you, am I right? XD But in all honesty, this was ridiculously fun. And kind of surprising that some of my stupid ideas did have bits and pieces that were right!

Want more of my stupid rambles? This has 3 other parts! ;w;

[darlinggeorgiedear]

Hello 🥰 First of all your page is amazing and I love your page.I want to ask you a question.King George V was known to be a harsh and prescriptive father.But he was quite kind to his brides and grandchildren.My main question is who was King George V's favorite bride ? When he made a comparison, which one did he like more, or was he drowning in compliments ? Was there jealousy between the brides because of this love issue ? Dec. Could you please not offend me and answer my question 🤗Thank you very much😊

Hi! George V valued discipline and expected respect from his children, in response to his naval upbringing. In the navy (like most military branches) there is a strong emphasis on authority. George was the authority of his children, which they sometimes resented because they didn't want to do what he had planned (Duke of Kent being in the Navy was his father's wish).

Since he was not the authority figure over his daughter in laws or grandchildren, it makes sense that he was more relaxed. (I do believe he was often relaxed and loving with his children, but it is not false to say that his children resented him at some points, especially during periods when they were adults.)

I think if George had a favorite it would be the Queen Mother. Mainly because she was the only one he got to know. His other two sons who got married (Henry and George), did so 1-3 years before George V died, while the Queen Mother had been in the family for almost a decade.

He was actually very nervous about daughter in laws before any of his sons got married, since he didn't like the idea of someone new in his very tight knit family circle, which was very precious to him. Queen Mother was almost a God-sent for George V and his wife, Queen Mary. I think George liked her because she was traditional and charming. Mary appreciated how well she fit into the family, and especially liked how easily she got along with her George. I always think Mary got slightly tired of being the middle man between many people (especially her children) and her husband, and enjoyed being able to have another person around who could handle her husband. A great example of this is George being as tactless and opinionated as ever, told the Queen Mother that he didn't like her hairstyle (her fringe), and she responded with something like "Oh, sorry to hear that" and then continued on like nothing.

As I already wrote, Marina and Alice, married into the family very shortly before the King died, so they were not able to form much of a relationship with him. There are rumors about Queen Mother and Marina's relationship that showed jealousy, but this had nothing to do with Queen Mother's relationship with George V. When Bertie (George VI) inherited the throne, his brother George (Duke of Kent) was secretly critical. He didn't think his brother was up to the job and also thought his brother's wife was not up to be queen, mainly because she was not a born royal. In his defense, there is definitely a growing period with each monarch, and it's hard to not compare the new one with the old unfavorably. Marina apparently called Queen Mother (and Alice) those little Scottish girls (this rumor can't be confirmed, but since her husband had similar feelings I tend to be believe it).

[takami-takami]

Hiya V! I completely relate with what you feel despite not having PTSD myself (at least, I think I don't have it). I get set off over the smallest things, like everyday sharp objects or injuries or when I hear a thud due to my history of SH.

It's scarier when I'm at work because it can be a bit more common. Then it spirals into the fear of not knowing how to respond professionally or appropriately in a scenario that I know will trigger me. And then the stress usually sticks to me and when I'm feeling extremely stressed (which happens really easily), I dissociate or sometimes see or hear things and may even believe that it's all a conspiracy against me.

Then it becomes a constant spiral and battle between my 'rational thoughts' and 'irrational worries', e.g. "why am I in this sector and be entrusted with people's well-being when I can't even trust myself with my own well-being?", "what if I 'snap' and do something that will damn my whole life?"

I don't have a fully effective advice. I'm still trying to figure it out myself and I'm still trying to push the mental health sector into acknowledging my concerns about me accidentally hurting vulnerable people around me (my constant fear and motivation to be assessed).

BUT what works for me is to remove yourself from that situation if you could such as taking a short break and doing something else. It works as a distraction from the constant spirals and should give a bit of reprieve. I find that talking about it with somebody you trust also really helps because they tend to understand or are familiar with your thought patterns and can help you break apart the cycling thoughts (like how my friends talk me out of delusions or can confirm facts for me or even help me recall any memory gaps).

I think that it is also worth noting that when you're in the field, you kind of become a different person(?). Like, when I do training and learning the protocols in theory involving triggering things I would feel whacked out yet when I encounter it in practice, I tend to be able to 'shut it down' temporarily until I believe I'm in a situation where I can freely react. I become more reliable and confident as a person when I'm at work.

I think that with your situation, you will encounter things that will trigger you but if you are in a work setting where there are vulnerable people that need you, you will find yourself being able to maintain composure one way or another. I also think that's why breaks are important because it gives you a safe environment to process and take care of yourself after spending time taking care and helping others.

So back to my sort of main point: take a breather. Pace yourself and the imposter syndrome may not go away fully but you are more likely to ignore that feeling as you gain more experience and when you are put in a situation where you need to inspire confidence around vulnerable people towards you.

Sorry if it doesn't make sense :(( it's a complicated feeling and it sucks that you feel such a thing but know that you're not alone and also thank you for talking about it because it helps others like me to feel like it's not just me

- 🪼 / Jellyfish

HI !!! waving!!!

I'm sorry you have to deal with the dreaded Spiral too, it can be intense, scary, and over time it can get exhausting when you're in it. Especially since triggers are like. Everywhere.

🫂💞

Thank you for saying the second part about entering a different headspace in work, because I agree with that! When I've done volunteering in social services in the past, it definitely is a "zone" you get into and I gotta remind myself of that.

Another 🫂 for good measure!

[dreamii-krybaby]

OK HOO BOI! Time to analyze EP3 of Murder Drones! Alongside speculations!

Also buckle up this going to be long and there going to be parts in this thing bc of how much I have to unpack here.

Ok so first thing first: The AS,The AS “gadgets” (Doll’s bracelet and Uzi’s Necklace) Doll,Yeva (Doll’s mom),Nori and Uzi.

So it seems that Yeva and Nori where indeed related,perhaps they were co-workers. Both were probably studying the AS,The Company and The DDs.

It seems that they weren’t the only ones behind this research,it seems that a lot of WDs worked on this “secret research organization” judging by Yeva’s ID card.

I personally think this SRO (secret research organization) was researching the AS and trying to use it to their advantage,maybe trying to figure it out and use it against the DDs and perhaps even humanity.

I also believe the SRO created these “AS gadgets” (Doll’s/Yeva’s bracelet and Uzi’s necklace)

Also the SRO symbol,the one found in the “AS gadgets” (the symbol which consists of a warning sign,has 2 triangles sticking out to the right side and warning symbol has a skull symbol on it instead of the typical “!” one) is eerily similar that of the DDs symbol,aka the skull symbol. But slightly different in art style.

And I believe we can see this SRO skull symbol on Doll’s house! It was painted on the wall and there are plenty of shots showing it.

And why do I think WDs where the head of this organization? Well I certainly believe the company (JCJENSON) is somehow connected to this organization but I doubt they were the ones to create it. This is also thanks to Yeva’s ID card:

Why would the company bother keeping these “rogue” WDs names?

Why would they let WDs keep their accessories? Like their clothing and hair? Especially their hair,since it was confirmed by Liam in a Reddit AMA, that WDs get their hair out of human corpses.

Why even bother giving these AS gadgets a pleasing eye design? My example is Uzi’s necklace.

Also fun fact! Yeva means “Life”/“Mother of life”/“source of life”/“living one” and is related to the biblical name “Eve”.

That definitely doesn’t have lore implications lol.

Also! Some info we can get out of Yeva’s ID card:

•”C9” on the top left.

At first I didn’t know what could it mean,but thanks to @watercat678 for pointing it out. This probably means “Copper-9”.

Why would they put that? Could this mean this happened in other Exoplanets or places? (Crack Idea)

•At the top right you can the SRO symbol

•“A” next a yellow bar,which is located below Yeva’s pic.

•The Card also has “YEVA” written below the pic,which makes sense bc it’s her name.

• The number “048” is below her name

• Bar code on the bottom of the ID card

Now I speculate Yeva and Nori to be scientists or researchers at this organization but what if they were subject experiments? Or both? You know,scientists experimenting on themselves or maybe on their own family?

Also I noticed along side others that Yeva and Nori are wearing the exact same outfit;

• A simple black choker/necklace. (Could that be an earlier version of the AS gadgets?(crack idea))

• A black WD hat. (Tho this could be coincidence in character design)

• A black or dark grey short sleeve dress with a “V” neck.

Now I think both Nori and Yeva are wearing the exact same outfit because are “subject experiment outfits”

Basically an outfit specifically made to run tests on them and to examine them easily. Kinda like the clothes they put you on when you are at a healthcare facility and have to monitor your body.

Also,Yeva’s pic also confirms that Nori’s scar is well,indeed a scar,and not some wonky clothing piece. Since Yeva’s lacks that.

Ok so before anything I wanna talk about the “AS gadgets” that I keep mentioning; Doll’s bracelet and Uzi’s necklace.

Both have numbers below it and the SRO symbol on it,some people were able to make out the numbers;

Doll’s Bracelet says “048” and Uzi’s necklace says “002”.

I personally believe this used to belong to their mothers. Doll’s case is pretty obvious,her bracelet and Yeva’s ID card have both the “048” number on it.

But do you know what also has the number 48 on it?

Remember the newspapers from Uzi’s string theory? The one where gravitational forces where detected at site-48???

Site-48

S i t e - 4 8

Yeva was absolutely involved in that. Also could that site be related to the SRO? Since the site share the same number as Yeva, did that site be contained her? All I know its directly linked to her.

Speaking of places,look at this shot showed in the S1 trailer. We haven’t seen this in EP3 and I think its building up to EP4. Something I noticed is the arquitecture,it look odd to me but also.

There are pine trees! And why bring this up? Well if we look at the SRO symbol there are triangles on the side,which resembles pine trees (since the triangles are stretched upwards and have a lil stick poking out below)

Could this place be the origin of the SRO? And perhaps is related to Site-48? And maybe even involves Nori,Uzi,Doll,alongside Yeva and her husband.

Also the place looks like is still running! As you can see lights in the place far away but there is also a lantern shining in the roadway. I belive this is related to what Doll said at the end of EP3:

What is she looking for??? It’s probably related to her mother,the AS and the SRO. And she may find answers in this new location

Also after Doll found out Uzi had the AS she seemed to completely switch character. Am not saying she is “good” but she did seem to open up for negotiation. I am also going to talk about her reaction in that scene much later.

Anyways back on track. I HC that Uzi’s necklace originally belonged to her mother,Nori. (Btw this HC was waaaay back to the pilot) but EP3 seems to imply that imo:

• Honestly the aesthetic Uzi’s necklaces looks very odd compared to her clothing and general aesthetic. The necklace gives more of a preppy feminine vibe.

• So why on earth would Uzi be wearing this? Unless it had significant sentimental value. Maybe Uzi and even Khan knew that this is probably one of the last things remaining of Nori.

• also Uzi (and probably Khan) probably had no damm idea her necklace was directly linked to the AS. And the fact that it was,is a big ass coincidence. Unless it belonged to Nori,who we know is directly linked to the AS.

Now this could be the other way around,Uzi’s necklace was made for her. So there is a slight chance of Nori being “001”

But I can’t say for sure. All I know is that Nori is probably “001” or “002”

I think these gadgets were made to amplify the AS abilities,because as soon Doll looses her bracelet she is super concerned. And when preparing to attack Uzi she use more of her basic abilities. And we didn’t see her wear the bracelet in EP2. Where she looked like she was amateurish with her AS

Not only that,When Uzi’s AS abilities kicked in,her necklace was activated. I think the AS was the one to trigger the activation.

Some people believe that Uzi tasting oil was the trigger for Uzi’s AS,which is interesting.

BRO a detail I JUST noticed,is that the symbol on her necklace looks worn out,in comparison to Yeva’s bracelet. Which makes sense,this gadget was literally one of the first ones to be created. But this could also means it was heavily used at the time,it could be of Uzi wearing it everyday but it also reinforces the idea of the necklace originally belonging to Nori.

Ok so now am going to switch to Doll:

In EP2 we finally see her AS,she looked like she was still new to it. Like covering her glitchy eye,locking the door to stop Lizzy from opening it,in a very amateur way. (tho it could be bc she was panicking or she wasn’t wearing her bracelet (which could be an AS ability amplifier)) This was also the start of her revenge plan.

In EP3 she looks like she was years ahead compared EP2. She also was more mentally unstable and way more violent. Of course this was probably bc of her revenge plan against V.

Also it seems that Lizzy didn’t know Doll’s abilities and plan in EP2. Meaning there was probably a big time jump between EP2 and EP3 (maybe a few weeks? Or days?)

Also Doll’s parents may have been alive in the pilot,but I can’t say that for shure.

I do think Lizzy’s comment in EP2 “We are your folks?” Seems to imply Lizzy knew them or maybe she simply expected Doll to have them.

I also found her comment “That was the joke? Idiot”, peculiar but I could be overthinking.

Some people say Doll’s AS grew stronger bc of the amount of oil she consumed,which could be plausible. But i think she also poked around Yeva’s stuff and the SRO. I also believe Doll’s father was also somehow involved with the AS and SRO

If we go back to EP2 some people wondered how Doll got hands on a pic of V. Well EP3 answers that

In the flashback of Doll’s parents death, in the first shot we see Doll’s POV, she seems to be hiding behind 2 doors,could it be a van? A new location? (Maybe near the pine tree location?) Also what where they doing? I belive this was in a whole different location judging by the doors design. They look to belong to a different building.

We can also see Doll’s father pinned to the ground reaching for a camera…why would he do this?

We can also see this took place outside. (I was able to see snow and huge abandoned buildings) But Doll was hiding behind doors. Also in the background we can see lil lights, are these drones eyes or another thing?

In this shot we can see Doll’s father taking a picture of V. Imo he was maybe using the camera flash to maybe startle V (which we all know didn’t work)

or he did it for research??? Like a last ditch attempt to complete a mission????

Also in this shot we can see Doll’s eye glowing in the background.

Another thing to point out is that seconds after the camera flash Doll’s eye started glitching to the AS symbol,which is interesting but may also mean nothing.

My crack idea is that the camera flash and her AS are related but again don’t take it too seriously,its a crack idea.

On a more serious note tho,it seems that Doll had the AS before her parents death. Since her eye just suddenly started manifesting the AS symbol without showing any clear signs of being infected.

Doll could have inherent the AS from her mother, Yeva. (Like Uzi receiving the AS due to Nori)

Or she could have been an experiment at the SRO (but that’s a crack idea)

A thing to point out is Doll and her abilities in the EPs.

In the pilot Doll didn’t use any of her abilities and looked defenseless and scared,if my idea of Doll getting the AS from Yeva is correct,she could have use her AS abilities but at that time she didn’t want to reveal them out of fear.

Or maybe she wasn’t infected yet

Or bc she couldn’t fully control it yet or maybe she had no idea she had the AS.

Or she had something similar to Uzi. What I mean is that Doll had the AS since the beginning but didn’t fully unlock it,so it only manifested by breaking mirrors,eye glitching and having intrusive thoughts about tasting oil.

Also Doll’s parents death are very tricky to where to put them in the timeline. All we know it happened before the present events of EP3. So here are my options on when the death’s happened.

A: their deaths happened before the pilot.

B: During the pilot. Remember N said at some point to Uzi that J and V are on “hunting for a bit”? V could have killed them during that time

C: During EP2.

Bc of the off screen friendship of Lizzy and V showed in EP3, we know V is able to take off the big chain around her neck,sneak away and also put her chain back (Notice how in all of her pics with Lizzy she isn’t wearing any chains(tho it could be a mistake?? Idk))

Also Lizzy’s and Vs friendship development must had happened after Dolls parents death. Ofc

So Yeva’s and her husbands death could have played out like this in EP2:

“V kills yeva and her husband at some point in EP2 (maybe when Thad,Uzi,N are busy with Eldritch J)

Doll witness it,and somehow awakens her AS. After she picks up a picture of V and goes back to the colony. Where the scene of Lizzy and Doll plays out.”

That segment was more of an example.

An idea I have is that Doll’s flashbacks in EP2 are after dragging her parents corpse to her house or somewhere else,as their corpses are covered in roaches, but thanks to the flashbacks in EP3 the deaths happened outside in the snow and we haven’t seen any roaches live in the snow yet.

Also Dolls father and yeva could have been killed in different locations and different times. Here is an example of what i mean:

“Doll witnessed Yeva’s death alonside her dad. Both her and her dad make a run for it,leading them to another location. Unfortunately V catches up and terminates Dolls dad free trial of living. And again,Doll witnessing it.”

The part I just recently writes isn’t a real speculation of mine its just an example.

Well speaking of Nori,only a few people have mentioned this:

“NORI’S KOOKY INSANE STUFF” hello???? Ma’am??? SIR???

This just keeps hinting at us that Nori was related to the AS,the DDs and the SRO.

Also the fact that Khan keeps this in secret from everyone,and placed Uzi’s “Crazed ramblings” with her mother’s stuff. Means Uzi is probably following Nori’s steps,which probably means no good.

The scene seems to heavily imply that Nori probably was obsessed with the AS. It was so bad she probably got herself infected on purpose in the name of research. I personally think she Infected herself willingly looking at all the information that provides EP3 and EP2

Actually looking back at hologram-Nori in EP2.

Not only now I found weird she was wearing a “subject experiment” (if the implications of EP3 are correct) outfit while carrying baby Uzi.

Her,the necklace,the SRO,the AS and her kooky insane stuff???? This all makes me think that Nori willingly infected herself.

And the fact she was carrying baby Uzi gave me a crazy ass idea.

I wouldn’t be surprised if Uzi was involved with the SRO in a much more direct way.

Anyways THIS WAS LONG. The worst part I HAVE SO MUCH MORE. But ho boi i need a break. But I also want to keep writing so bad! Anyways more parts and theories related to EP3 will come.

Also I know in “S1 analysis Part 2” I would the whole “N killed Nori” but I didn’t have the energy plus,am not super convinced of that theory.

[angel-0f-verdun]

5 Gravity's Pull

Previous Chapter

Maverick’s POV

I knew Maeve was right, that I needed to leave the subject of her previous RIO alone. It felt impossible, she was like a MiG I needed to shoot down but couldn’t get a target lock on. It was a relatively new feeling that I couldn’t seem to shake, no matter how many women would fling themselves at me, I did not want them. She would not leave my head, I wanted to keep her safe in a cocoon. But that was impossible because she was a fighter pilot, we craved the adrenaline, the danger, the fun of it all. On top of all that she was independent, she could take care of herself, but my instincts told me that she needed protection.

This would not be a good thing when we were flying together, I had already lived through the scares and constant worry of her not coming back one day. Not that she knew any of that, but I was sure her independence would prevent her from ever accepting the love she truly deserved. I sighed, leaning back in the lawn chair that I had sat in to prevent myself from going after her. I was sitting outside for quite some time, as I watched the sun start to dip below the horizon. The string lights outside kicked on and I heard someone clear their throat behind me.

“Hey Mav, you alright?” I turned to see Goose standing in the doorway looking down at me from the step. I smirked up to him, trying to hide the frustration I was harboring.

“Yeah, I guess I’m enjoying the downtime we’ll be having for the next couple of days,” I told him. He chuckled coming down the steps to sit next to me in the other chair.

“Yeah right,” He said sarcastically, knowing me too well to believe the web I had been spinning. Sometimes it was obnoxious how well he knew me.

“You’re thinking about M-A-E-V-E,” He spelled out her name as if there were a child nearby and he didn’t want them to decipher what he was saying. I slinked down in the chair I was in confirming his suspicion without saying anything. When I didn’t give his comment a chuckle he switched into a more serious tone.

“Mav, what is it about this girl that you can’t get off of? You’ve never been interested and pushy like this before with anyone. Trust me, I’ve seen a lot of your conquests, even with that one admiral's daughter… You blew through them easily without a second thought. Why her? Why now?” He asked, his questions were valid and to be honest I wasn’t sure.

“Honestly Goose, I just want to be helpful,” I told him, knowing he could see right through me.

“All right, you’re not ready to talk about it because then it makes it real. But just so you know everyone sees it but you two. She already seems like she’s lost in the dark... Don’t get lost yourself trying to find her.” He smiled at me sadly.

“There’s more to her than just that though, Goose. I intend to find out what it is, but I’ll take your advice.” I told him, letting my head rest on the back of the chair as I analyzed his reaction.

“Mav, let’s get out tonight, we can go to the bar, maybe get your mind off of things?” He asked me. I nodded, not entirely looking forward to being out with the other pilots but agreed nonetheless.

“All right, let’s invite Reaper and Doe,” I told him. I knew he wanted to go to the bar and scope out the competition, and I’ll admit it was something I wanted to do too. He got up out of his chair waiting for me to join him. I lifted myself out of the chair and followed Goose inside the house, the air conditioning inside felt great.

“Do you want to tell them? Or do you want me to do it? I’ve already talked it over with Doe.” He told me.

“Why don’t you let Doe do it then?” I told him, gripping the edge of the counter to stop myself from running to her. He nodded moving to go up the stairs as I rifled through the kitchen looking for a snack. The kitchen wasn’t stocked, but I did manage to find some fruit that had been in a bowl. My hand gravitated towards the orange, I picked it up, checking it before I peeled it to make sure it hadn’t rotted. As I bit into my first bite I heard footsteps coming downstairs.

“Goose has decided that we should dress in our whites.” I heard Doe come into the kitchen. I nodded when she came into view, she looked a bit annoyed at the thought of slipping into yet another uncomfortable outfit.

“Did you guys decide where your rooms are?” I asked her as I threw the orange peel into the trash and grabbed the bags I had left near the back door. I went to follow her up the stairs.

“Yes, you’ll be in the room to the left near Maeve. Nick and I are on the opposite wall” She said as we got to the top of the stairs, pointing towards the rooms as she mentioned them.

“Is she doing all right?” I asked her in a hushed tone. Doe nodded, gesturing me closer. I took a half step closer to her.

“I went to check on her when she came up, she’s not in great spirits so try to leave the past where it is. She just wants to have fun, she hasn’t let loose in a long time.” She told me, I nodded confirming to her that I understood.

“Thank you, Doe. She’s very lucky to have found you.” I told her as I left the conversation and went to my room to unpack the dress whites. I closed the door to my room as I unpacked everything, putting my clothes in my drawers and my flight stuff on the desk near the window. I hung up the things that needed to be hung. I shrugged out of my tans, hanging them up in the closet and replacing them with whites. I didn’t bother to change my undershirt and boxers, since I had already cleaned up from my shift this morning. I plopped down onto the bed, finishing off my orange, I closed my eyes waiting for Goose to come get me after everyone was ready. It wasn’t long before I heard my door push open.

“Mav, are you decent?” I heard a feminine voice call out, I forced myself to stay planted on the bed when I knew Maeve had come to get me instead of Goose.

“Yes, are we all ready?” I asked her as I quickly pulled my white dress shoes on. She stood leaning against the door frame as she pushed the door fully open. I took in her appearance, she had redone her hair in a neat bun as it always was. I loved her hair down, it held a natural wave that women craved. She was a petite little fireball who knew her limits and everyone else’s. She stuck to the rules strictly, she was so opposite to me and yet I felt my attraction grow.

“Yeah, we’re just waiting on you.” She told me, I chuckled as I tied the laces on the last shoe. Standing up, I grabbed my hat tucking it under my arm. I followed her down the stairs where both Goose and Doe were waiting. 

“How’re we going to get there, did we decide on arrangements yet?” Maeve asked them. 

“I say we all pile into Goose’s car,” I said to her, standing just over her shoulder. I smiled, I could smell the perfume wafting off her as she craned her neck to look at me. Everyone watched for each other's reaction making sure that idea was alright. When there were no objections, we filed out the door and to the Bronco that sat in the driveway.

I opened the passenger door for Maeve, then climbed in crawling over the center console. It was a tight squeeze but it was better without all the extra gear from earlier. Goose turned on the radio flipping the channels until he found something that fit what he was in the mood for. It wasn’t a long drive to the bar, back down the highway, and near the base.

When we walked inside, it was packed with people. We pushed through the majority of them making our way to the bar. I looked behind me making sure Maeve and Crystal were still there. I could see them talking amongst themselves, I wrapped my arm around her waist pulling her close to me for a second as she was about to get bulldozed by some already drunk patrons. I immediately let her go so as not to upset her as she took a half step out of my grasp squeezing in just between Goose and I, Crystal squeezing to my left. Maeve flagged down the bartender easily, 

“Vodka tonic, and whatever they want.” She gestured to us,

“Budweiser” Goose said to him looking at me for confirmation that I was okay with that. I nodded.

“Make it two, and a Cosmo for the lady.” Goose immediately said, ordering for the rest of us. The bartender nodded and briskly got to work on the drinks. He got us our beers first, then started mixing the ladies, getting Maeve’s to her before Crystal. I turned around resting my elbows on the bar. 

“Mav, you want to know who the best is? That’s him, Iceman. That’s the way he flies, ice-cold, no mistakes. Just wears you down, you get bored and frustrated, do something stupid and he’s got you.” Goose told me, I nodded taking in the information. I had a feeling I was going to really get on his nerves in the sky. I brushed the thought away as I watched Maeve, she looked around trying to find a booth against the wall away from our fellow pilots.

“Hey, hey Slider, thought you wanted to be a pilot, man. What happened?” Goose started the conversation with him pulling him closer by his collar. 

“Goose you’re such a dickhead. Whose butt did you kiss to get in here?” Slider asked him, a shit-eating grin on his face. He was a few inches taller than Goose but raised his chin to appear even taller, fucking annoying he thought he was better than us.

“Well, the list is long but distinguished,” Goose replied to him. 

“Yeah, well so is my johnson,” Slider replied to him, as he downed a shot, I laughed, sure.  

“So you’re flying with Iceman?” Goose asked him. 

“It’s Mister Iceman to you.” Slider said getting stupid over his pilot. 

“Hey, Mother Goose how’s it going?” Iceman walked up to us, shaking Goose’s hand. 

“Good, Tom. This is Pete Mitchell, Tom Kazansky. And well, you’ve met this one, Maeve Ford, and Crystal Harris.” Goose formally introduced everyone. Not that it was needed I already knew I didn’t like this bastard. 

“Congratulations on Top Gun,” Iceman said, giving Maeve a smile, she just stared at him, not offering a smile in return. 

“Thank you,” I replied for us, not giving her the chance to speak. I could almost feel her eyes burning through me for not letting her talk. I knew she was itching to give him a piece of her mind but now was not the time or place. 

“Sorry to hear about Cougar. He and I were like brothers in flight school, he was a good man.” He said as he reached over Maeve to grab some beer nuts, she scoffed and turned her head away from him as he got close to her. 

“Still is a good man,” I told him quickly as if he was implying Cougar was anything but. I knew Maeve was still touchy about the subject, he had only turned in his wings 48 hours ago, but I knew it was still fresh in her brain.

“Yeah, that’s what I meant.” He said unfazed by his lapse in wording, stuffing more beer nuts in his mouth.

“Right, because you clearly give a fuck about him and all the other pilots in here.” Maeve spit out angrily taking a step towards him, begging him to egg her on. I stepped behind her ready to grab her if she decided to pounce. We didn’t need the attention, not yet anyway.

“Guess the rumors are true about you then, Reaper,” Iceman said to her backing down from her harsh gaze. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of her and she was locked on him ready to take him down. 

“You know, I was just telling Maverick not to believe everything he hears. Which means it’s either better or worse than what you’ve already heard…” She advised him as she took a sip of her drink watching him over the rim. I did the same, I needed more alcohol in my system if this was where the night was heading. 

“Say, you need any help?” He asked me, he just couldn’t shut his mouth. But I was glad he knew not to step any further with Maeve. She backed away from him, bumping into me, still fuming. I stabilized her, gripping her hip lightly with my free hand. 

“With what?” I asked him, genuinely confused about where he was going with this. Crystal moved in from where she was standing on the other side of me to hear the conversation. 

“You figured it out yet?” He continued the questions. I noticed Slider watching my movements carefully, I released Maeve from my grip, tapping her as I let go, I wanted her to know I was here for her if she needed it. But there was no need for there to be rumors of fraternization, especially coming from the most likely pair that would get us thrown out of this program at any cost.

“What’s that?” I asked him taking another drink of my beer.

“Who’s the best pilot.” He told me as he neared my face, a bit too close for my liking.

“No, I think I can figure that one out on my own,” I said to him glancing to my left to check on Maeve, she had finished her drink and started to wave the bartender down for another. She was tracking Iceman with her eyes not willing to let him out of her sight, even though she was not talking to him anymore. I could tell she didn’t trust him and didn’t like his attitude. 

“I heard that about you, you like to work alone,” I smirked, it was true, other people tended to slow me down in the air. The only one I would want as my wingman would be Maeve, she knew how to keep up with me when we were flying. She wasn’t afraid of the stunts I pulled, not many would want to follow me through the gates of hell, but I knew she would. 

“Mav, you must’ve soloed under a lucky star, huh? I mean first the MiG, and then you guys slide into Cougar’s spot? And you, your commander just gave you another spot?” Slider started on this bullshit again. 

“We didn’t slide into Cougar’s spot. It was ours, okay?” Goose jumped in before I could.

“Someone else dropped out, just because you’re insecure doesn’t mean you get to be an ass.” Crystal jumped in for Maeve. I could practically feel the irritation rolling off her figure just in front of me. I took another sip of my beer, almost ready for another. 

“Yeah, well, some pilots wait their whole career just to see a MiG up close. Guess you guys are lucky and famous.” Slider adjusted his tactic seeing as he was hitting some delicate topics.

“No, you mean notorious. I’ll see you later.” Iceman finished the conversation walking off, but not before giving Maeve and Crystal one last glance. 

"You can count on it,” I replied as I watched them walk away letting out a sigh.

“They were abused children,” Goose said to me, noticing my reaction.

“We’re going to have a good time,” I said to him smiling as we clinked our bottles together. 

“Always.” He said, leaning over the bar to order another round for all of us.

“Let’s go find a place to sit down,” I said, leaning into Maeve’s ear as I didn’t feel like shouting at her. She nodded and worked her way to the corner booth she had been eyeing. I followed her lead sliding into the seat next to her as Crystal took her other side waiting for Goose to arrive. He wasn’t far behind us but I noticed him struggling with the drinks, I got up and grabbed two from his hands and we made our way back. I set the glasses on the table in front of the girls and sat back down. Just as I did, silence rang through the air as the jukebox changed songs. 

“That’s it for me guys. I’ll drive us back tonight,” Crystal said as she pushed her empty glass in front of her and brought the full one toward her.

“No, no, you’re not driving my car.” Goose chuckled a bit, getting his keys out and waving them in front of her. She grabbed them quickly, stuffing them in her breast pocket. 

“Well if you don’t want me driving you’ll have to stop drinking..” She smiled at him watching his face fall with defeat. 

“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Maeve burst out, her head dropping to look at the table. I looked around the area confused, there was no one here that would cause that reaction from her. 

“What??” Crystal asked, also struck with confusion over her outburst. Maeve lifted her head and pointed towards the ceiling, a ghost of a smile gracing her face. She wasn’t entirely pissed and I could tell she was moderately amused.

All our times have come, here but now they’re gone. Seasons don’t fear the reaper, nor do the wind, the sun, or the rain, we can be like they are. Come on baby don’t fear the reaper. 

“Alright that’s gotta be one of the guys teasing you, but it doesn’t matter Reaper, you know the rules, drink up, finish that one.” Goose let out a chuckle gesturing to her newly bought drink. It was this game we played, if any song got played that related to our callsigns we had to finish our drink. Of course, this got difficult sometimes the more creative the callsign, like Goose, so he chose his own song each time we went out. Maeve groaned, not looking forward to the drink going down her throat but she was a good sport and chugged it down.

“All right boys, I guess that means I need another.” She told us, tapping me on the shoulder so I would let her out of the booth. She was definitely in better spirits as I watched her walk over to the bar, she took a seat on the stool waiting for the bartender instead of flagging him down immediately. I leaned in towards Crystal knowing that Goose wouldn’t approve of this topic of conversation. 

“I got a question for you,” I said to her as I finished the beer I was working on and grabbed the new one in front of me. 

“Why did you agree to be her RIO with all the rumors floating around with her previous one?” I asked her, she looked at me pensively. 

“Well it’s one of those things Mav, do you believe all the rumors about anyone in the squadron?” She asked me. I thought for a second, 

“Well no. But with all the suspicion surrounding it?” I prodded more. Goose just overhearing this shook his head at me as he realized what we were talking about. 

“When I signed on to be her RIO, they asked me if I wanted to hear the story from her or read her file. I chose to hear it from her, she let me in and told me in her own time. Mav, look at her, do you really believe she could kill me?” She asked me as I looked over to Maeve. 

“No, I don’t, you two are thick as thieves,” I said, this seemed to satisfy Crystal as she let out a giggle. 

“See, and you couldn’t kill Goose either. But regardless, it’s not my story to tell. Just give her time.” She said making her point. I nodded. 

I noticed Maeve stand up from her seat, a bit wobbly, drink in hand, she looked absolutely pissed. The guy next to her spun his chair towards her as she started walking away, he checked out her ass and grabbed her wrist to pull her back to him. At that moment, I jumped up from the table about to go over there with Goose and Crystal right behind me. I raced my way to her but the damage had been done.

Then the door was open and the wind appeared. The candles blew and then disappeared. The curtains flew and then he appeared. Saying don't be afraid. Come on baby, don’t fear the reaper. 

She raised her right hand that was holding the glass and threw it to the ground. It shattered instantly upon hitting the floor into a million little shards. It distracted everyone for a second, Maeve took the opportunity and punched him straight in the face. Immediately, there was a silence that fell over the crowd, which was quickly replaced with yelling from both sides. My heart skipped a beat as I noticed blood pooling from her hand, dripping onto the floor. I was on her in seconds holding her back from doing anything more to the poor fool who thought he could get something out of her. Some of the guy’s buddies jumped up upon seeing us and got in front of their friend ready to defend him. 

“What the fuck man? Psycho bitch!” One of them yelled at her. I made sure Maeve was situated behind me before I took the next step. I could feel her fight back against me hopping on my back just to take a swing at this guy. I steadied my feet feeling her additional weight combined with my own. 

“No one gets to call her that, you don’t even know her,” I yelled at him getting in his face. I felt Maeve shift her weight towards the bar grabbing a full beer bottle and taking a swig. Goose immediately intervened, pushing me back from him, Maeve slipping off my back. I noticed all the other pilots and RIOs from Top Gun appeared slowly next to our side wanting to see what was happening. 

“I said no and told him I wasn’t interested about 15 times and he still wouldn’t leave me alone. Not everything is yours to claim. I don’t belong to anyone.” Maeve yelled at him now in line with my shoulder. I refused to let her get much closer, she would tear them apart. I put my right arm in front of her, bracing her against it.

“Hey, hey. Wow, let’s calm down here, see, she has a pretty good reason why she reacted the way she did.” Goose started as he lined up on the other side of me.

Maeve slipped underneath my arm, her hands slipping around my neck, I broke my gaze with our offenders and watched her face. She smiled at me and brought my face down to hers. When our lips connected I completely lost track of what was happening. I grabbed her hips, pulling her fully against me, she let out a small moan that made me want her even more. I traced the tip of my tongue along her bottom lip, just as she was about to open her mouth she tore herself away from me throwing the bottle across the room, it hit someone and shattered on the floor. She ran towards the man who had called her a psycho bitch, he threw a punch at her, she dodged it, grabbing his wrist, twisting it, and coming down hard with her elbow into his arm. I heard a deafening crack that filled the atmosphere. A scream followed it as everyone backed away from her. It was like I was cemented to where I stood, waiting in awe for the next thing to happen. 

“Yeah let’s leave these pussies alone, they clearly need to rethink their tactics after getting beat up by a girl,” Iceman shouted near the front. 

“Man fuck you.” One of his friends said to him as he walked up and pushed against his chest believing he could move him. Safe to say he did not. From there, the rest of the night was a blur, people were throwing punches, breaking bottles, and chairs seemed to fly from one end to another. It was absolute chaos, anyone who wanted to fight, did. Clearly, there was no need to stick around as everyone had forgotten who threw the first punch and why everything had started. 

“Grab her, get them outta here!” I heard one person say about the injured men that Maeve had absolutely destroyed. She had punched strong enough to knock some teeth out. Upon hearing them trying to get her, I went forward grabbing her by her waist and throwing her over my shoulder. 

“Yeah, that’s right, get your woman.” I heard someone say behind me as I pushed myself through the people who had gathered around us. Maeve thrashed against my back trying to claw and scratch her newly formed enemies. Once I got us to the back near the booth, I set her down, which I quickly realized was a mistake as she tried to immediately go back. I stopped her, getting in front of her and holding her shoulders, keeping her in place. I looked towards the table spotting a cloth napkin, I knew this would be useful for her hand, as she had split open her knuckle on the guy's tooth, I stuffed it into my pocket as Crystal and Goose appeared next to us forming a sort of wall around her so she couldn’t go anywhere. 

“Reaper, we have to leave before anyone remembers you and wants to file charges,” I said to her using her call sign to get her attention. Her eyes flashed with anger at me but she turned around and headed towards the door. We rushed out of there so fast someone would have thought the bar was on fire, but we weren’t the only ones who decided to run. We piled into the car fast, I practically jumped over the center console into the backseat holding out my hands for Maeve to take so she could lower herself in. Goose took the passenger side as Crystal started the Bronco and peeled out of the lot bound for the house. 

Next Chapter

[mrs-monaghan]

Taennie leaks not only outed V & Jennie, but it shut down every ship involving V within BTS & in the process essentially out Jikook under more of a microscope. Think about it. For the longest time what has been standing in the way of some people fully believing Jikook was the possibility in their minds TK might be real or Vmin might be real. They stay in their ship bubbles etc. Once those pictures came to light TK & Vmin were instantly debunked & all eyes turned to Jikook & suddenly all that super sus shit they been doing was looking more & more realistic, that they're a couple. I just know Jikook started sweating when those Taennie pics hit. Even tho they have put stuff out there, they always had room for deniability, but that leak really put all eyes on them too. Isn't it funny how once the Taennie scandal hit, Jikook's interactions esp in public suddenly died down? Does anyone else not find the timing super sus? Not only did they know all eyes were gonna be on them more now, but I imagine seeing how easy it was for their bandmate's straight relationship to get exposed by a hacker & the uproar it caused, probably made Jikook take several steps back, cause they know if someone easily done that Tae and ended up getting a hold of their phones and private photos and leaked it, it would have major consequences, not only for Jikook, but for BTS. A BTS member being outed as straight is way different then 2 BTS members being confirmed queer & dating. It all makes perfect sense to me why Jikook are being super cautious nowadays, esp seeing what happened to Tae.

Ummmm.. no?

Or atleast idts... 🤔 I mean, I hear what you're saying anon. And it makes sense. It makes alot of sense. But, I really don't think these 2 things are related in any way. At all. At all.

1) Jikook have been loud for years. If anyone were to sus them they would be sussing them way before the Taennie photos dropped.

2) Jikook were already laying low way when this happened.

3) It is of my opinion that Jikook don't care about the Taennie thing making them seem more obvious. They (JK especially) have been trying to be obvious for a long long time. Jimin too has said many eyebrow raising things like letting us know he wakes up and sleeps next to JK.

Jikook haven't really been hiding. They just haven't come right out said the words "we are gay for each other". Instead they've done everything but. Think about it anon, they've told us and showed us so much.

I think sometimes while they're eating dinner they discuss how they could just kiss one day and people still won't believe them 😂 I'm sure its frustrating on most days but on others i can see it as something they laugh about.

Anyway, that's what I think. Jikook don't care about being outed when they've been doing a good job of that themselves.

[brightbeautifulthings]

Golem by P.D. Alleva

"'You should. Great books are like a blueprint...a survival manual disguised as fiction. As folklore. Because the truth hides in plain sight and those that see have to hide and those that can't see...well, they're just a part of the plan.'"

Year Read: 2023

Rating: 2/5

About: When John Ashton makes detective, his first case is to follow up on a lead to a missing child. The D.A.'s daughter vanished years ago, but a patient at a psychiatric hospital, Alena Francon, claims to have new information on her. She weaves a tale of demonic conspiracy throughout the New York City elite, statues come to life, and sinister rings of pedophilia and human sacrifice, all centered around a mysterious figure she calls Golem. It's so outlandish it can't possibly be real, but when one of her old socialite friends, Annette Flemming, confirms Golem's existence, John is forced to reconsider everything he believes to be true about the world. I received a free e-copy from the author in exchange for an honest review. Trigger warnings: Everything. Character/child death (on-page, graphic), human sacrifice, rape/pedophilia, cannibalism, child abuse, torture, medical horror/lobotomy, graphic gore/body horror, severe illness/injury, violence, guns, gaslighting/manipulation, threats, vomiting, slurs, racism, xenophobia, sexism, questionable treatment of bisexuality, potential cultural appropriation. Graphic NSFW content.

Thoughts: Well, that was depressing. I want to preface this review by saying I had reservations about accepting this book because I typically don’t find Satanism/cults to be that interesting in horror. I like to support small press authors, but I should have gone with my instinct, because I also hate giving low ratings to small press authors, and here we are. I really believe this was a case of it just being the wrong fit for me, and I think the otherwise overwhelmingly positive reviews support that. If this sounds like something you would like, don't let my review put you off.

This book is oddly structured. The description gives the impression that the detective, John Ashton, is going to be the main character in unraveling this supernatural mystery. However, what happens is that John's case is little more than a framing story for Alena's tale, and in my opinion, it's the weakest part of the book. John is barely on the page, and he does little but sit there and tell us that Alena's story can't possibly be real. It's Alena's history that takes up the bulk of the novel, and I'm not sure why it's framed as a flashback when it's roughly the middle fifty percent of the book. Instead of getting invested in it, I kept waiting for it to circle back to John, but that only happens near the end. I think there could have been a better way to structure and pace this, maybe by breaking Alena's history up into smaller pieces uncovered in John's investigation, or by developing his investigation more (it's actually over very quickly, time-wise). I'm not sure, just that it comes off a bit unwieldy as-is.

It's also quite long in general, and if you're familiar with my reviews, you know I feel that books should have a very good reason to be over five hundred pages. It's over-written at times, and I got bogged down in some of the repetitive descriptions. Too many adjectives, too much chanting, too many bodily fluids. The actual story, I think, is pretty interesting when we get to it, and there's a unique twist on hell/outer space that I don't see often. (To be fair, I don't read a lot of science fiction either, but the only authors I can think of that even touch on this concept are Christopher Pike, my beloved, and V. Castro). It definitely ventures into some grotesque topics--pedophilia, human sacrifice, child abuse--that are central to the story, which is something to be aware of if you’re easily triggered.

It wasn't the horror so much that put me off, but this book is badly in need of a sensitivity reader. The biggest red flag is using a Romani woman as a villain and frequent uses of a slur. (For the record, "gypsy" is always a slur, and a sensitivity reader would know that.) I did enjoy the fact that her name is Maleva, which seems like a nod to The Wolf Man (1941), but that movie is eighty years old. Representation has come a long way since then. It also bothered me that, of the two graphic sex scenes in the book, one of them is with a demon and the other is between two women. I don't have any problem with men writing loving, non-exploitative wlw relationships, but in a novel where all the sex is part of some human sacrifice/pedophilia ritual, putting it alongside those felt like saying it was equally deviant-- and, ouch. There are also some comments about women in the narrative from both male and female characters I didn't care for, but I don't know if it's meant to be a reflection of the time period or true feelings. I'm also uncertain about the use of Mayan and Jewish culture (Xibalba and golems, respectively), particularly in making a villain out of golems, which are often portrayed as protectors of Jewish people.

After so long in these characters' perspectives, the ending is abrupt, and there isn’t a lot of closure on a plot level. Throughout the novel, we have the sense that characters are pawns in a game much bigger than they are. The downside is that they have almost no weapons with which to fight against that level of cosmic corruption and conspiracy, and it shows. The truth is there are no heroes in this novel, just victims and abettors. It's quite bleak throughout, and almost everything is left open-ended. There's the impression that this cycle has continued throughout history and will continue on into the future as well, regardless of any one or two humans trying to fight against it or any temporary victories.

[monarch-boo]

Ruminating on the 4Chan leak from quite some time ago. Could spoil things for release depending on *IF* any of the not already confirmed shit is actually true.

Basically there was this "leak" post from 4Chan from quite some time ago, which not only spoke of the existence of DRDR but seems to have gotten a not-zero amount of things correct. I just want to go through what they said bit by bit, point out what is confirmed and what is deconfirmed, and give my thoughts. Omitting the 'Yeah No Shit' type'a things like "Frank returns".

There's a TL;DR at the end too.

"Keiji Inafune is not returning" ✅ At least I've... heard this one is confirmed I think?

"Mall's basic layout has been kept the same, but with some additions" ✅ Yupppp, I have to say the decorations they added to the mall to fill space look fucking gorgeous, I never actually really processed just how empty-feeling some of the sections of the mall actually look in the OG.

"Infinity mode returns" ✅?? Almost certainly true... I have to wonder if they made any QoL changes to this? I mean if they still have the 5 and 7 Day Survivor achievements then I have to wonder if they did *something* to make it less of an ordeal. I'm not sure even the types of Twitter people that whine about easy modes and assist stuff and whatnot would complain about that, unless they never played the game. Like nobody whose tried playing it fucking likes suffering through that cruel-ass mode for 10-14 real hours in one sitting, bro. Seems like anyone whose actually played it would love for at least *something* to be dialed back.

<Talked way too long about the "extra bosses" bit so I'm putting it in a separate post.>

"source specifically told me the Convicts respawning has been cut, so any of you complete scrubs that couldn't handle them can breathe easily." ❓ Interesting. I have mixed feelings about it though. On one hand, this is a wonderful QoL thing if it's true, a lot of people struggled with the fact that they don't go away forever once you kill em all. But on the other, what happens to the Jeep then? Will the Jeep disappear too? Because unless they let the empty Jeep keep respawning, you will only be able to drive it around and steal+use Reginald's machine gun once per entire playthrough...

"Legacy mode, which removes the time limit and lets you play as Chuck and Nick and adds zombie variants of the bosses. it's unlocked by beating the game." ❓❓ THIS is the weirdest part of the leak to me, weirder even than the additional Psychopath(s). It's the zombie variants of the Psychopaths and especially the ability to play as Chuck or Nick that elevates this to Probably Total Bullshit in my mind. It would be kinda interesting to see essentially super-HD versions of Zombie Jo, Cliff, and Kent from Chop Till You Drop, and fun to see zombie variants of everyone else, but I don't believe this one at all. And I kind of hope I'm right, because I would actually really really fucking love and much much much rather prefer an OTR style Sandbox mode over the zombie Psychopath thing. I don't think I want zombie Psychopaths in this mode IF they were to override the Sandbox-style Psychopath loop. HOWEVER, IF this mode is like OTR Sandbox AND the zombie Psychopaths exist SEPARATELY from the real ones? I'd allow it then. Also, if this is real there's a non-zero chance that "playing as Chuck and Nick" just winds up meaning alt costumes for Frank like the Chuck one they've showed us.

"'Concourse Plaza' located between the food court and entrance plaza, its where one of the new bosses are." ❓ More mention of new Psychopaths. Do we know about any new rooms or areas of the mall? Last I remember people have scrutinized the map on the website, but still nobody's 100% certain.

"Frank has a brand new face," ✅ "but TJ Rotolo is returning for him." 🚫 This is one of the things that makes me have doubts about this leaker and their source, aside from how wild shit like the "Legacy Mode" sounded. Not only is Frank very obviously not voiced by TJ Rotolo now, we have confirmation right out of the mouth, er, keyboard, of Rotolo himself that *he wasn't even contacted about DRDR in the first place*.

https://x.com/FrankByDaylight/status/1806716618699059583

(the link isn't linking but I'm too lazy to fix it right now, dunno why it's not working in the first place though)

This and some of the other stuff makes me feel as if the leaker was just largely making shit up and some of it just coincidentally happened to stick.

"All dialogue voiced." ✅ "Phil Lamarr plays Otis Washington." ❓ I want the Phil Lamarr part to be true so bad. Like, that would be so fucking cool, that's Wilt, that's Samurai Jack, Osmosis Jones, STATIC SHOCK. DUDE! PLEASE. I'd love to hear him as Otis so so much. I'm just excited in general about all the survivor dialogue to be fully voiced, I can't wait to hear what they decide to make everyone sound like, and who they cast for everybody. I actually wanted this a lot to the point that I specifically asked for it in that one survey Capcom did a while back. Though I do wonder if it was a bit of a monkey's paw wish, as this may be one of the biggest reasons Frank and possibly some others were recasted, it's possible that the need to record more lines but refusal to let TJ voice Frank again resulted in them having to redub Frank entirely so his voice is consistent across the whole game. Though if the theories about them not wanting to let TJ be Frank again because he's in a Union is true, then maybe they didn't even wanna pay him royalties for legacy audio usage either... then again if the mocap is still largely the same then would they not have to still pay TJ for that then? And they still had TJ voice Birkin in RE2 in 2019 so like I honestly have no fucking clue why they don't seem to wanna let him voice Frank specifically again bro. 🙃

That's the last of the stuff from the leak, TL;DR:

• They wrongfully said TJ would reprise Frank which makes me doubtful of the leak.

• Alleges, most likely true, that Infinity Mode still exists. If the 5 and 7 Day Survivor achievements still exist then I hope they made some sort of change to make it less grueling.

• Alleges that the Convicts will no longer respawn after being killed. Sounds nice if true but makes me concerned about whether the Jeep and mounted gun will ever reappear or not.

• Alleges a "Legacy Mode" with playable Chuck and Nick and zombified Psychopaths. Sounds dumb to me and kinda like the leaker is making at least some shit up wholecloth, makes me doubt them even more. And I want an OTR style sandbox with normal Psychopaths.

• Correctly predicted Frank's face change, mall being the same but with slight additions, and fully voiced survivor+Otis dialogue. I'm excited for the voiced survivor dialogue. Alleges Phil Lamarr will be Otis, which I hope is true.

[sol-falloutblog]

Alright look, I'm going to say it...

I think it's odd to confidently confirm Nicky V. has no junk based on his in game model because I don't believe ANY in game models have genitals. This isn't a porn game, they aren't going to spend extra time modeling genitals on anyone. Humans don't even have them, they just modeled underwear to cover up the non-existent bits. The Fallout series doesn't care about showing genitals, so we aren't ever going to see them regardless.

Like I get it, I get why people want Nick to be junk-less because it does make sense, what would be the point? However, I do think it's also valid that it's possible Nick has something (emphasize on something) going on down there only because he is supposed to be an attempt at making a synth into a functional human or well human-like. I would think it would be weird if he didn't have something resembling genitals down there, I mean why stop at the genitals if you're trying to copy the human body? Now, obviously I don't think it's 100% like the ones humans have, Nick for one doesn't have blood so it would make sense they wouldn't bother with giving him... other specific bodily secretions, functions, and such.

...alright I think that's enough, lol, moving on! I literally just now got an INTERESTING idea for Dima. Considering my thoughts just now if we continue down that route it would only make sense to think that they would ALSO make an attempt at sculpting/creating a human woman. So, considering there are two prototype synths, Nick, who was given the specific personality of a pre-war Man, and Dima who INSTEAD was given the ability to just grow a personality instead it could be entirely possible but also interesting to think of Dima possibly being trans. I mean, considering all the biohacking he has done to himself it could very easily fit into that. Could go along with why Dima feels it is so important for people to know if they are synths or not, for him identity and 100% knowing who & what you are is important and why he is so pushy with his point of view. Not that it has to be, just an interesting idea.

I know Nick gets plenty of trans headcanons (specifically trans man ones) and with him being a synth it makes sense but personally I like to go with Nick being some flavor of nonbinary trans person. First, because I don't like to think of Nick as prewar Nick, I do think of him as his own person and I do believe he does as well (mostly) so with this in mind Nick was created/born from the Institute who were creating him to be a copy of a man. Obviously, Nick feels weird about this because he ISN'T him, but we could also easily add in gender dysphoria to the mix as Nick not feeling like a man not just because he is a synth but also because he also ISN'T 100% a man. Sure, Nick wasn't meant to grow his own personality or be his own person like Dima, but obviously the Institute didn't really seem to 100% succeed with Nick because if they had I would think Nick wouldn't have as many issues with accepting himself as prewar Nick V as he does in game. I mean, we even are told through Dime that they tried so many times to get a personality to stick, and went through so many various ones (if I'm remembering correctly) and Dima finally had enough of them torturing him and escaped so it's very possible Nick still wasn't a 100% successful attempt ESPECIALLY considering they never seem interested in taking/having him back.

I do think you go either way with it though, Nick could easily also be a trans man instead or even both or whatever you want because fuck canon! I just personally like working with & around canon, it's just much more fun to me!