#it ends with a warp wall are you kidding me

[saintofbloodbanks]

Okay so we aren’t even pretending that this isn’t an American ninja warrior obstacle course 💀

[rosettyller]

some analysis of this scene from 2x02, because i am going absolutely insane over it:

first up: it's 2 500 BCE. They've known each other for around 1500 years at this point, but they haven't been meeting up very often; it's implied at this point, that they've only met at the Garden, and the Flood, and now here (as well as in Heaven, but there's varying interpretations about how much they each remember of Heaven).

(worth noting that these meetings are all bible-related meetings)

So, they don't know each other very well at all. This is why Aziraphale approaches Crowley so cautiously (apart from the fact that he thinks Crowley's going around murdering goats and soon kids). He doesn't know what happened to Crowley when he Fell, how he changed when he fell in with Lucifer, how God's rejection has warped Crowley's perspective or changed his morals (their meeting at the Flood seemed quite short, not enough time to get a definite picture.)

Aziraphale is still seeing Crowley as demonic, although there's already that thread of doubt - can you really see him trying to talk Hastur or Ligur out of this the way he does Crowley?

Aziraphale clings to the memory of Angel Crowley - Crowley gets quite defensive.

Here, Crowley reinforces that he's changed - personally I don't believe that he did fight in the War, but his views of God's Plan definitely got more extreme than "thats terrible god should get a suggestion box".

But, I also believe that here, Crowley is reinforcing that he is no longer an angel, and therefore no longer has to play by angel rules. He can do what he wants. He's a demon, it's in his job description.

And of course, that he is a demon, and he is Evil, and of course he would kill goats.

(more under the cut, because I just can't stop talking)

This shot is very yellow. Crowley's hair being the season 1 orange rather than red, the yellow walls, all accentuate the colour of Crowley's eyes, highlighting the physical reminder of Crowley's demonic nature.

I couldn't be bothered to gif it, but here, Crowley leans forward into Aziraphale's face. There are two reasons for this:

Get his yellow Demon Eyes right in Aziraphale face, just to hammer home his point.

It's an aggressive action, moving into someone's personal space like that. Saying, I could hurt you, I'm violent and aggressive and dangerous, I killed those goats, the kids are next.

The way the light hits Crowley's eyes in the above shot and the below shot also make them a very bright yellow. (Edit: I think someone pointed out that Crowley is making his eyes glow, but the overall yellowness of the scene serves to highlight this)

Clever wording on Crowley's part, because as we will find out, he faked the destruction of the goats to keep them safe, while making himself sound very evil.

You'll notice the repetition of "blameless"; this makes him seem even more evil, hurting the innocent, but also gives deeper insight into one of Crowley's biggest issues: hurting the innocent. What have they done to deserve this? Nothing.

This ties in quite nicely with what we have seen before of Crowley and free will; he gives people the option to sin. It's their actions that decide whether they end up in Heaven or Hell; they get what they deserve for their actions. He just makes it easier to choose Hell. (see: phone lines being down making people crankier and encouraging them to be horrible to each other, but it still being their choice, setting the holy water bucket above the door, so it's Ligur's choice to come in after Crowley that gets him killed.)

Note also the use of "long":

Aziraphale says to "tell me you want to do this". "Long" has rather stronger connotations than "want", but also rawer, more fundamental. Crowley is reminding Aziraphale that he is a demon, and that he has the traits of a demon, this is what he is now. He longs for violence, for destruction.

Aziraphale looks quite sad here. If you watch the video I linked, his previous conviction that Crowley doesn't want to do it is very strong. He fully believes in Crowley, that all he needs to do is reframe not killing the kids as within the rules of Hell, the way Crowley so often comes to do for Aziraphale ("Then you can't be certain that thwarting me isn't part of the divine plan too. I mean, you're supposed to thwart the wiles of the Evil One at every turn, aren't you?" "If you put it that way, Heaven couldn't actually mind me thwarting you.").

Aziraphale believed Crowley was still good, that the angel he remembered was still in there. But Crowley rejects it - and it hurts. Crowley has become what a demon should be.

Crowley looks quite sorrowful here, too: he already cares for Aziraphale (he fell in love at the Garden), and it hurts to decieve him, to disappoint him, to hurt him.

I would argue that here, Crowley is scared.

He's in shadow, which dims the yellows; his undemonic nature is about to be revealed.

And that is not safe, because Hell does not send rude notes. And here, Crowley is not doing just any temptation, but trying to help Satan win a bet (supposedly). And out of every demon in Hell, Satan is the one you want to piss off the least.

But here, Crowley is scared because Aziraphale could reveal him - because Aziraphale is on God's side, and because it is revealed that Crowley is not nearly as demonic as he makes himself out to be. He's vulnerable. Aziraphale could scorn him, hurt him. But instead:

Aziraphale is incredibly smug. "I knew I was right", he says. "I knew you were still good".

And here is another issue: Aziraphale conflates God/Heaven/angels with good, and demons/Hell with bad.

And Crowley does not see Heaven as good. He doesn't want Aziraphale to see his angelic core past the demonic exterior. He's on his own side.

This, for Aziraphale, confirms that "the angel you knew is not me", is not correct.

And I think, out of the three minisodes, it's this one that does the most for fleshing out Aziraphale and Crowley's frames of mind this series, and why they choose what they choose in ep6.

Aziraphale has been proven right about Crowley's angelic nature, and that he wants to do good, but can't, for fear of Hell's retribution.

And Crowley does not see Heaven as good. He recognises that being an angel again will not allow him the freedom to do good. (as Aziraphale had to try and talk a demon into helping him save the kids from God.)

[bubbiethesaur]

Hey, baby

Just a little sunhinged sketch for y’all

Laplace's Angel by Will Wood makes brain go brrrrrr

So this scene from Sun’s backstory made it into the start of chapter 16 of LRA, but it was originally much longer. I had pages and pages written, from Sun playing in the daycare with the kids to interactions with different people each time he woke up to scenes in Parts n Services. But each time I slipped it into the chapter, it didn’t work. It didn’t do justice to Sun’s story. So I took what I had and rewrote it, pulling in bits and pieces to create something that makes my heart ache every time I reread it.

But I also saved that original document. Once LRA is done (whenever that may be), I’m planning on releasing scenes, chapters, and ideas that never made it into the story on ao3, probably in a fic called The Scrapyard (lol). But for now here is a little excerpt from the original scene below the cut.

(tw: dissociation, graphic violence to human, reference to sa but not shown)

Sun looked at the bedroom door then down at his hands. There was something wrong with his touch sensors again. He was overloaded with sensations crawling over every inch of his metal coverings—the scratchy carpet and the tight leather harness and the horrendously gentle breeze from the air conditioner slinking through his rays. 

Too much input. Too much everything. He felt crushed and warped and overheated. He felt… he felt…

Angry.

So so so angry. His body shook, and the shriek of metal slicing across metal cut through the air. He caught his balance against the wall, digging claws into the off-white paint, as a second set of arms now extended from his waist. 

Strange. He thought those had been removed years ago.

The bathroom door opened and he singled in on the man entering the hall, shirtless and whistling in a way that made Sun’s audio input ring. With a startled double-take, the man froze, eyes popping wide and mouth hanging open in a ridiculous manner. 

“Hey, baby,” Sun simpered, waving all four hands. This time the smile that stretched across his face was genuine.

“W-what the hell, man?” 

Sun stalked forward as the man backed away, a lovely enticing hunger growing at the sight. 

“Are you ready to play something new?”

“What are you… sh-shut down, that’s an order,” the man stuttered, but Sun only crept closer. “I said shut down! Get away from me! Get away—”

The screams ended much too soon, even with Sun taking his time. The animatronic panted without breath as he peeled off the man’s skin, flayed him open like Sun had been every time he woke up. Blood soaked through the holes in the silicone around his hands, slick and warm in such a delicious way. He bit into the man’s neck just to taste it.

[cer-rata]

Fic WIP: “No One Majored In Chemistry"

“...So yes, I’m going to figure out which one of you it was.” Billy growled into his phone as he dodged and weaved through the crowd of other excited freshmen.

Bruce sighed on the other end. “Are you really saying it’s impossible that you could have gotten into a good school without one of us meddling?”

“Gee, I dunno, acceptance and a full-ride scholarship to an ivy league school I didn’t apply to, with no active requirements to keep it up? Because of my AV experience? Room and board included? UPenn has a 6.5% acceptance rate, and again, I didn’t even apply, Bruce!”

A pause. “...It was Diana. Drop out, and she might actually cry.” Then he hung up, because of course he did. Billy groaned.

Fine. It was fine. Maybe superhero nepotism had gotten him into college, maybe that meant some other, more worthy kid didn’t get a shot. He had to balance that guilt with gratitude: Because someone clearly believed in him, and that meant a lot. Ugh, he couldn’t even yell at Diana about it, you can’t just yell at Diana! Why couldn’t it have been Ollie? Half of his job was giving people someone to yell at!

He was so frustrated that he pushed the door to his dorm open way harder than he intended, and it slammed against the wall, startling the boy who had apparently gotten there first. He spun on his heels away from the window where he’d been setting up some figurines and pointed a pair of accusatory finger-guns at Billy. He looked like a Scandinavian dude, with all of the trappings: Tall, broad shoulders, long shiny blond hair, blue eyes as sharp as Tim’s but somehow much less eerie to look at, probably because he wasn’t being possessed by the ghost of a Victorian street urchin.

“Oh! Oh, hey.” He pushed some hair out of his face and flashed Billy a bright smile.

“I recommend this one, Batson.” 

Billy paused. He didn’t recognize that voice, who was--Oh no. Oh no, Achilles never said anything unless he was asked a direct question, and even then--OH NO.

The guy cleared his throat. “Um…You’re Billy, right?”

Crap, I missed a dialogue cue! “Uh, yeah, yeah, sorry, weird…weird morning.” Billy quickly propped his suitcase against his bed and walked over to offer the guy a handshake, which was smoothly accepted. Billy wasn’t a little guy, 5”7 was perfectly average, but this guy--wait, what was his name?

“Yeah, totally, it’s been a weird morning. It’s nice to meet you, though! I’m Garth.”

Ah, okay. “Garth” had at least five inches on him, and that, combined with the length of the fingers and width of the palm that consumed his hand served to make average old Billy feel kind of small.

“Me…me too. Um. I mean, it’s nice to also meet you, not that I’m Garth. I don’t know you well enough to decide if I want to steal your identity yet.”

Garth let out a surprised giggle and raised an eyebrow. “...Well, I hope to prove that my credit score is worthy of being ravished.”

His smile made Billy’s eyes sting a little bit, but on a level he wondered if that was a product of every one of the degenerates in his mind (and maybe Solomon) trying to get a look at once.

“Aha, I guess we’ll see!”

Garth shook his head a little and smirked. Then his eyes flicked over to Billy’s bed. “Wait, is that your only bag?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. I…don’t like having a ton of clothes.” It was kind of true.

Garth nodded. “Hmm. Fair enough. I’m a little bit of a…well…” He gestured to the pile of clothes on his bed. “...I like shirts.”

"Nothing wrong with that, you seem to be good at…wearing shirts.” What?

“What?”

“I dunno man, I haven’t had any coffee, the prompt was: 'Friendly compliment that is also not weird.'”

Garth laughed again and patted him on the shoulder, and it was at that moment that Billy realized that they’d just been standing in handshake range the entire time. He backed up in the direction of his bed a bit, and Garth took that as a cue to go back to unpacking while he talked. 

“I’m from Gotham, my standard for weird is a little warped.”

Billy sat on the edge of his bed and quietly lamented that his feet didn’t reach all the way to the floor. “Gotham is a wild place, yeah. Probably cursed.” Literally cursed, actually.

“Yeah, yeah there’s…yeah. But imma be real, I think Fawcett is much scarier.”

How does he know I’m from Fawcett?

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, that place is a Buzzfeed unsolved video waiting to happen, I mean there’s a reason the Big Red Goober hangs out there so often, right? Magic is spooky, man.”

Billy bit his cheek. “Ah, well, you may have a point, there have been a couple weird things over the years.”

Garth let the silence ride for a beat as he put some sweaters in his closet. “Hey so, big fan of your podcast, by the way.”

Billy chuckled nervously. “How…how do you know about that?”

“How many Billy Batsons can there be?”

“Honestly? A WEIRD number.”

Garth snorted and stretched slightly to get to the top shelf. Achilles noted that his shoulder-to-chest ratio was good for archery (and other things), and Billy tried his best to ignore him. “Either way, I figured you’d be a little more braggy about getting to interview superheroes, that’s kind of good for like, street cred and shit. But I guess being a bit of a shy little guy makes sense, all things considered.”

Billy was about to defend himself against the “little guy” accusations, but Garth turned around and made eye contact again, which derailed him long enough that he lost the window, and Garth continued on. 

“So, what’re you majoring in?”

“Mixed media, with a minor in journalism.” For some reason, Billy felt a little self-conscious whenever he told someone, like it was somehow unrealistic, when in reality it had been made abundantly clear to him that the concept of ‘unrealistic’ did not apply to a life like his.

Garth seemed to think it was cool, even. “Oh that’s great! Makes sense, you seem like the type to be good at all of that stuff.”

Billy fought to keep a blush down. “Ah, gee. Um, wh-what about you?”

“Pre-med and Screenwriting. Dual major.” 

Billy blinked a couple times. “Wow that--”

“Yeah, yeah I know. I kinda…I kinda applied to both departments and didn’t expect to get into either, so when I got into both I kind of panicked and accepted. So. You know. It’s…I’ll be fine, I’m used to juggling plates.” He brushed some hair out of his face and tucked it behind an ear, and for the first time in the fifteen minutes that Billy had known him, Garth looked a little nervous. Only for a moment though, then it was all smiles again. “Hey, that reminds me actually…”

Billy’s eyes widened as he watched the blond cross their room to sit right next to him on his bed. “Uh, wh--”

“How are we going to do this?”

“Do…what?”

“Oh, I do like it when they’re forward.” Zeus, please!

Garth leaned back on his hands.“I have two stressful majors, my mom has been in AA since before I was born, so no drinking, and I like people. Do you see where I’m going with this?”

“Well, theater, medicine, Gotham, parental stress: You’re one rejection letter from turning into a Phantom of the Opera themed, organ-harvesting villain of the week?” Why did I say that!?

He could hear the smug satisfaction in Hermes' voice. “Just a little inspiration, for free. You’re welcome.” AHHHHHHH--

Garth laughed really hard at that one, and any cool vibe he was trying to foster was shattered by the way his cheeks went pink and he snorted. Billy could suddenly see the dork behind the symmetrical features and shiny hair.

“Fuck you! This just means you’re gonna be my first victim, Batson. That kidney?” Billy giggled and leaned away as Garth jabbed a finger right over where his kidney actually was. “Is mine.”

“This is good,” Achilles said, “Generally this is where I’d suggest pulling your shirt up, and enticing him with your wares, but that may be unwise as you’ve neglected your mortal body’s physical integrity, you disappointing, noodly-armed twink--”

“Hey!”

Garth raised an eyebrow and Billy realized with horror that he’d let that one escape.

“Uh--”

“Sorry, just…remembered…a thing--where were you going with that before you claimed my kidney?”

“Oh! Yeah right. So I’m gonna like…be busy, you know? ‘Everybody stares at me, boys, girls, I can't help it, baby--’”

“You did NOT just quote Rent--”

“It’s a good musical! What I’m asking is if you want to like, set up a schedule, or is there a codeword, or do I put a sock on the door, or…you know.” He wiggled his eyebrows and Billy wanted to die. For some reason. 

“Oh, uh. I mean yeah I guess you can just text me? But it’s not gonna be--”

“Yeah don’t worry, I’m a considerate guy, I won’t screw you.”

“Wow, Batson, look at that, you’ve already taken yourself off of the table.”

“That’s not what he meant! Wait, shoot--”

“Who are you arguing with?��� Garth asked casually.

Billy slowly turned to look back at him. “...Eheh, whaaaat? Sorry, just, my internal monologue sometimes--”

“It was Zeus, right? I know about the Ganymede thing, I figure I’m within his taste range.”

“He’s not wrong.”

A chill shot through Billy and he frowned. “...How do you--”

“Dami' wanted me to be prepared in the event of, and I quote, ‘Billy fucking up badly enough that you end up with a demon trying to crawl up your ass.’ End quote.”

Billy stared at him. 

“...When you say ‘Dami'--’”

“The stabbiest Christmas elf, yeah.”

Billy groaned. 

[deathshallbethelastenemy]

i'm crazier for you (4)

TEEN!gojo x FEM!reader (soulmate AU)

No warnings just fluff, unless bad words and a little tussle is worthy of TW⚠️!

1. what you see, i see

2. where you go, i go

3. you know i adore

She knew she should've asked him before he left yesterday, if he wanted to go to the school festival with her today. Now, she was looking at an unsent text massage she typed in the morning.

_____._: if you're not busy do you want to come to the school festival with me? It's okay if you can't I know you're busy with training and missions and curses, so if you have time, i'd love it if you stop by.

She couldn't send it. Everytime she read it, it sounded more awkward. Worse, she sounded desperate and she was not desperate. No matter how pretty Gojo Satoru was. Instead, she texted Geto Suguru, surely his best friend knew if he was busy.

_____._: Hello! I just wanted to ask if you knew if Satoru's busy today? I wanted to invite him to the festival. If you're not busy too I'd be great if you'd come. Shoko too!

This turned out to be another unsent message. Texting his best friend somehow reeked of more desperation, not to mention, he would no doubt show Satoru the messages. The thought alone made her want to drown in embarrassment.

There'd be other festivals for her to invite him to. Festivals where she would ask him to go with her with ample time.

No, yes, no - she should just ask him. The worst thing he could say was no, right?

Just as she was going to press send, someone tapped her shoulder from behind.

Ito Haruki, student council treasurer.

She flipped her phone closed, "What's up?"

Haruki smiled nervously, "I wanted to know if you wanted to go to the festival with me. I mean you're not dating that guy, right?"

Her heart leapt to her throat. She wasn't dating Satoru. She and him were just friends - friends who cuddled and held hands and kissed each others cheeks and foreheads. Friends who had consistent midnight rendezvous of him teleporting into her room just to see her - it was easier than sneaking him.

She remembered when her mom almost caught her sneaking him into the bakery, she had to push him under a table. The grin that was plastered on his face that whole night as they snuck in pastries from downstairs into her room. Their hushed whispers as they ate until their sweet tooth was satisfied, which for her soulmate, was never ending. She had to stop him before he ate the entire store up and started bouncing off the walls. Satoru teleporting in her room was efficient as well as an efficient way to sneak out of her room without her mother noticing.

The coffee nights were the best. His was always far too sweet and looked more like milk with the amount of creamer he put on his coffee. Their midnight walks where he would give her his jacket because she got too cold. Those same walks, he would sneak his hands under her sweatshirt to keep warm, until finally, they would warp back into her room and fall asleep in each other's arms.

But they weren't dating - Oh, who was she kidding, they were practically dating.

"You mean Satoru?" Still, she shouldn't lie and it was her decision to go slow, "He's my friend," but she didn't want to see anyone else, so she quickly added, "but we are talking about being something more."

Haruki's smile dropped, "So it's like that."

Her phone buzzed in her hand:

1 TEXT MESSAGE from Gojo Satoru

Gojo.S: something more huh? ;)

How long has he been watching what she was doing? Had he seen that embarrassing text message? She hoped not. She quickly backspaced her old text message and typed:

____._: stalker :/

"Is that him?" Haruki said behind her.

She flipped her phone closed again, "Uh, yeah."

"You smile alot around him," he said, "why aren't you dating him already?"

Her phone buzzed again.

"Well," she said, "we're taking things slow, you know, starting as friends."

Another buzz.

Haruki's gaze was full of disappointment but he left her alone and moved on to another girl.

Buzz- She looked at her phone.

3 TEXT MESSAGES from Gojo Satoru

Gojo.S: :'(

Gojo.S: when are you gonna send me that text???

So he had seen it.

Gojo.S: tell that guy that I'm not afraid to fight >:(

She giggled and typed:

____._: stop stalking me :|

____._: soooooo are you free?

She waited in baited breath for his next text.

Gojo.S: free for what :)

He was the absolute worst.

____._: do you want to come to the festival with me?

Two seconds...

Gojo.S: idk i mean it is pretty last minute

She smirked.

____._: that's okay. i'm sure Geto, Nanami and Haibara are free :)

Gojo.S: >:O

Gojo.S: so that's how it is now

She didn't answer and she flipped her phone close. Now, she was hoping he was watching.

Buzz. Ignored.

Buzz. Ignored.

Buzz. Ignored.

Buzz. Ignored.

Satoru opened his eyes and stared at his phone in shock. He sent another text- nothing. He poked his best friend's cheek annoyingly.

Suguru poked his cheek back harshly, "What," poke, "do" poke, "you", poke, "want?"

Satoru shoved his phone in Suguru's face.

Suguru laughed. He actually laughed at him as buzz came from his phone. He slid it open:

____._: wanna come to my school's festival today? i already texted Shoko, she said yes. I don't have Nanami's # or Haibara's # can you invite them for me?

Suguru grinned, "Guess who just texted me?"

Satoru whirled his head to him and lunged for him, "Give it to me!"

Suguru narrowly evaded his tackle as he typed:

Geto.S: sure, we'll be there

It was only a matter of time before Satoru tackled him to the ground and ripped the phone off his hands. He tumbled to the ground as Satoru's infinity keeping him safe from Suguru's curses.

"I can't believe she actually asked you!" Satoru flipped his phone and started to press the buttons furiously.

Suguru chuckled underneath him, "You should've just said yes when she asked you." He got his hands free from Satoru's hold and landed a double hit on his torso making him double over in pain, "and that's what you get for letting your infinity down."

He picked up his phone from the ground.

1 TEXT MESSAGE from ____ ______

____._: see you later :D

Satoru grabbed him by his pant leg, "Tell her to invite me!"

Suguru smiled in the way that he always had - one that seemed soft and genuine, "No," and slid the door shut on Satoru's hand. The door stopped right before it crushed his hand- Satoru had just turned on his infinity at the knick of time.

Satoru reached for his phone on the floor and stared at the small screen willing his soulmate to text him back.

He closed his eyes and focused. It didn't take much for him to be able to see everything she saw or hear her surroundings. Seeing through her eyes doesn't stop his six eyes from working. It was suppressed to a point where he could and couldn't see curses like he was seeing through two different lenses. It was jarring at first, but he was used to it now.

She was taking notes from her textbook.

He frowned. Suguru was right he should've just said yes.

Satoru doubted Suguru would do anything but he wanted to spend time with her alone in front of her classmates like a real boyfriend. That's where they were headed he knew that but he'd very much like their relationship to be official. He supposed she was making him work for it. He had said some pretty awful things before they met knowing she was watching. Then he died-ish and while he was up in the clouds feeling like he could take on the world - she was alone and full of sorrow. Fear and pride were keeping her from taking the plunge. All he had to do was keep at it and not fuck up.

He flipped his phone closed. He fucked up. Not too badly, though. It was a minor fuck up, nothing, he couldn't fix.

He fixed his sunglasses to cover his eyes completely. Not being invited to events has never stopped him before and it won't stop him now. He had an hour to think of a game plan, but just in case, he called her.

Her phone rang as she walked to the library to ensure that it was locked before people started showing up. She hadn't meant to ignore it. She was going to answer it, truly. She was only teasing him before, but one of her underclassmen needed her help. How could she possibly refuse? And she had meant to call him back but with the last minute preparations and the teachers not wanting to oversee anything meant it was all on her. By the time, she got around to calling him people were already rolling in and she had to greet them.

All she could do was hope that Satoru would show up today, even if she didn't explicitly invite him.

She smiled and waved at classmates and other guests. She smiled brightly when she saw Shoko and Suguru arrive with Nanami and Haibara, only for her smile to slip a little when she didn't see a fluff of white hair towering over them.

Suguru lagged behind to talk to her, "You seem a little disappointed." A soft smile played on his lips, "Upset Satoru didn't show up?"

Pink dusted her cheeks, "No- I mean, yes." She sighed, "It's my fault. I had meant to call him right after, but all of this," she gestured to the school, "got in the way and I forgot."

More people shook her hand and waved.

"Do you have to do this the whole time?" Suguru asked.

She looked at her watch, "Just for twenty more minutes."

Another handshake from a stranger.

From the corner of her eyes she saw Suguru grab a male student from the scruff of his neck and took off his school blazer from him. The student looked at him and seemed like he was about to say something to him, but one daring look from Suguru and he had left without a word.

He quickly replaced his jujutsu tech jacket with the school uniform blazer, "Go, call him." Suguru whispered in her ear, "I've got it from here."

"Are you sure?" She said, "This is my responsibility and-"

"It's fine," he smiled, "I didn't steal this blazer for nothing."

Smiling, she hugged him. "Thank you, Geto. You're the best." She squeezed his arm gently before leaving to call Satoru.

With her phone pressed to ear she waited for him to answer. What if he didn't answer? What if he was angry with her? Seven rings later and the phone went to voicemail. Her heart sank a little but she called again.

No answer.

Satoru usually answered at the first call, even when he was on missions. He must be angry with her. Calling again would probably only annoy him further, or get him to be more upset with her. She thought about texting him but what would her message say: I'm sorry I invited all your friends and not you because of a teasing comment you made.

She went too far this time. She shouldn't have invited everyone and excluded him. She should start the text message with that, so she started typing.

A hearty laugh snapped her out of her message. Suguru's laugh.

She paled. Oh God, he was laughing at someone. She would get in trouble for sure. She quickly moved to apologize for his rudeness (despite what Geto Suguru claimed, him and Satoru were best friends for a reason), and saw a mountain of an oversized pokemon Eevee plushie locked in someone's both arms overcrowding the school entrance.

She pinched Suguru as she helped the poor person get inside the school, "I apologize for my friend's lack of manners." She smiled nervously, "He didn't mean to laugh." She shot him a pointed look, "Right, Geto?"

"Yes, I did." Suguru chuckled, "Satoru looks ridiculous."

Satoru poked his head on the side of the large Eevee and flashed her a wide grin. Extending the plushie in his arms and with a teasing tilt in his voice, he asked, "Aren't you glad I'm here?"

She took the pokemon plushie from him. She loved Eevee.

She leapt his arms, "I really am glad you're here," she grinned up at him, "and not just because of Eevee."

Satoru's grin widened, "I know, I know, I know, I'm great."

She tip-toed and kissed his cheek. He let out a satisfied hum as he rested his head on top of hers to look at his best friend.

"Suguru," Satoru said, "what are you doing?"

"Greeting," Suguru gently smiled at passersby's and gave them warm soft-spoken welcomes.

Shit, she forgot he was there.

She handed Eevee back to Satoru, "Geto, I can do the rest." She said as she took his place at the entrance, "Thank you again for helping me." She waved to them both, "I'll catch up in a few more minutes. Have fun!"

Satoru's smile faded, "How many minutes?"

"Welcome," she told one of her classmates and then turned to Satoru, "Just a few."

"But-"

Suguru yanked him by his collar.

"Ow!"

She couldn't help but laugh.

The festival was looking to be a great day.

Gojo: *bullying a teacher*

Shoko: *smoking*

Geto: *trying to hide the smoke coming from the classroom Shoko's in*

Nanami: why are we here?

Haibara: bc it's fun :D *pops balloons in a dart game*

Let me know if I missed anyone!!

Part 5: baby, you're the life of the party

Part 6: something's made your eyes go cold

@phoenix666stuff @96jnie @mr-underhills-things @whatamidoing89 @wbad-world @ancientimes @whippedbyikemen @sammyiguess @pumpkindudeishere @witchofthecoffee @arminswifee (there was a problem with this one it would not let me tag you 😭)

Part 5 will probably be the aftermath of the KFC break up scene, if not then Gojo's birthday when he turns 17 in December

[glass--beach]

hi do you like ok computer (1997)

because i really just don't get it (especially as the second-best album of all time) but i reeeally want to & i respect your opinion on that a lot

yea that album kinda changed the course of my life lol. wall of text incoming

first - don’t let rym or aoty or whatever tell you what’s good and what isn’t, everybody’s got their own taste & criticisms that go against the grain are very important!! i will say anything that’s that consistently highly rated across different websites & publications is probably undeniably significant and worth listening to. whether listening feels like discovering a new favorite or sitting through a history lesson is where taste comes in. it’s important to interrogate the canon too as there is an enormous amount of implicit bias in what even gets in front of critics and in the metrics they grade music by. review aggregate sites have democratized this process a bit & all the good and bad of democracy has come with that lol.

so, the album gets praised for a couple of reasons - its innovative production, its commentary on the historical zeitgeist, and the pop appeal of much of the songwriting.

production - the album makes heavy use of cutting edge effects units, digital editing, computer trackers, sampling, and even features little bits of voice synthesis. most of it is stuff that had existed in music before radiohead, artists like aphex twin (and much of the rest of warp records’ 90s catalog) and bjork were ahead of the curve in a lot of the aesthetic aspects of okc and had influenced radiohead a lot, which is even more evident on their followup kid a. radiohead was not breaking new ground in using these sounds, but they were among the first to put it all in a rock context, taking cues from the weirder cuts on the beatles’ white album, the experimental “krautrock” band can, and miles davis’ classic jazz fusion album bitches brew.

context - radiohead had grown up during the decline of much of the social democratic programs that had helped to facilitate the education and performing careers of much of their early influences such as joy division and the smiths. by the time okc was being written they had lived through the austerity of the thatcher era, the fall of the soviet union, and now were watching the labour party turn increasingly neoliberal under tony blair. there was a general sentiment in the west that the progress of history had slowed or even stopped in favor of the neoliberal order. at the same time, tech was booming and computers were starting to find their way into more aspects of daily life. the album imagines a boring dystopia, where machines are rabidly advancing but humans are stuck in stasis. a major connecting theme is infrastructure - the airbag through which thom yorke is “born again,” the “cracks in the pavement,” the family politics that separate romeo and juliet in exit music, the mechanical voice of fitter happier giving contradictory directions for maintaining the status quo. even the escapist fantasy of no surprises comes in the form of carbon monoxide. and then, the record ends with the “ding” of an appliance that has completed its task.

songwriting - the band’s previous album the bends really is a pop masterpiece. i recommend it to anybody who wants to get into radiohead but doesn’t vibe with their later work. okc expands that compositional style through, for one thing, the more apparent influence of classical music on tracks like paranoid android or the Chopin homage exit music; let down even features polymetric layering characteristic of Steve Reich. it also features some songs that are too good to even need to push the envelope much, like karma police or one of my favorites, no surprises, which seems to reference the beach boys’ wouldn’t it be nice or the velvet underground’s sunday morning.

to be honest, i like okc mostly because it really spoke to me at a formative time in my life, when i was like 15 and felt heavily disconnected from the world around me. the album deals with those feelings in a very different context but it’s a feeling many people can relate to for many different reasons - i was closeted in a conservative culture, not a depressed british rock star lol. it also was an excellent gateway into many of the bands’ influences, who are also favorites of mine now. most people who love the album don’t really go as deep as i like to with understanding it, but maybe what i said here will give you something else to listen for, idk. maybe you just gave me an excuse to infodump about an album i love lol :)

[bluepallilworld]

A Tear's Soul

Part 1: All is certainly well in this fine world

Mimosa barely had the time to register what was happening before he was warped elsewhere by his happy-go-lucky friend. 

He was used to Lint’s instantaneous portals with how often he had been ambushed but the sensation never failed to be truly bizarre.

It felt like dipping your toes in lukewarm water then suddenly you were drenched and dry at the same time. And in a random place you did not ask to go.

The instant the shock runned out of his system, Mimosa whirled around and hit Lint’s head with the side of his hand.

“LINT, COME ON! Couldn’t this at least wait after breakfast? I’m hungry…”

Lint’s only reaction was to giggle so hard she toppled down on the wooden floor.

“Where would be the fun in that? If you really wanted that breakfast, you should have woken up earlier!”

“...You would just have come even earlier if I did that, wouldn’t you?”

She smiled and stood up, whistling and buzzing around.

The kid sighed and started looking around.

Where were they?

The floor was wooden and a little dusty, the walls were pretty bare except for some weird unrecognizable knick-knacks on shelves. The room was small.

“Whom closet did you zap us in?”

Lint tsked and wiggled her finger in front of his face.

“You’re really”, she pointed to a big dent in a wall, “not a good detective, uh?” 

Mimosa stared hard at the dent. It looked a bit like a puppy’s face? It reminded him of when they played hide-and-seek with Mu’s at her second home and he just rammed his elbow so hard into a wall it damaged the wall. It didn't hurt but it left its mark on the house.

Wait.

He gasped at the realization.

“SINCE WHEN CAN YOU POP DIRECTLY INTO TODDH’S POCKET DIMENSION?!! I thought you couldn’t go farther than the entrance?”

He shook his friend hard in his barely contained excitation.

They were at Mu’s!!!

“Well, it took me a few tries. I’m not sure I’m welcome alone here anymore by the way?”

“Why did you teleport us here? I thought you’d wanted to go exploring or somethin?”

“...You told me you missed Mu and she wouldn’t come back for at least another week sooo.”

Mimosa hugged her. He did indeed miss his younger sister but he didn’t think it was that obvious.

“Eh, couldn’t have my best friend slash “half-brother-from-another-multiverse” mopping, now?”

He buried his head into her shoulder while she rubbed his back.

“We should get out of this closet and go look for your little princess, don’t you think?”

He nodded and pushed away the other to get to the door handle. He didn’t get that far as the girl shoved him away and opened the door first.

She runned out all while shouting:

“THE LAST ONE TO FIND HER IS WET NOODLE!”

And as he, for sure, didn’t want to be a wet noodle, the boy dashed at his turn and they raced through the long corridor, crashing into furniture and laughing their heads off.

Sadly, he tripped on one of his treacherous tentacles (a fairly common occurrence) and tumbled down quite fast with a yelp. His “friend” just snickered at his misfortune and disappeared behind a corner.

Aw, he didn’t want to be the wet noodle…

He plopped down against the floor, starfish-style, and examined his surroundings. He was still in a corridor. That house had too much of those. 

He craned his skull around to examine the few doors he could see from this angle.

Among the very unremarkable doors, one stood out. It was white with flowers painted all over it. The skill of the painting varied a lot and those near the bottom were merely child scribbles.

The skeleton propped himself on his elbows and stared at the door, right-sided.

It was Mu’s room.

Maybe the pasta fate would not befall on him in the end?

The slats creaked despite his best attempts to be sneaky and he cracked the door open a smidge before peeking inside.

A small skeleton was sitting there, playing on the ground with a hoop. Quiet, she was making it roll harshly against the floor until it hit the wall and got launched back at her. She then caught it with the tentacle wrapped cozily around her throat and shoulders and began the process anew.

There she was.

He readied himself to call her when a weight on his head startled him.

“FOUND HER! I WON!”, shouted Lint from above.

How did she even do that, she was slightly smaller than him! That thought was one of the many that went through his mind as she leaped over leaning on his shoulders.

Back to the ground.

Mu looked at them for a second, nodded, then went back to her game, unbothered.

Lint danced, chanting “wet noodle, wet noodle”, looking rather pleased.

He weakly protested that he found her first to which he got the counter argument; he didn't announce it first so that was null and void.

Fair.

They spent some time together, each doing their very own stuff.

Lint was trying to improve her cartwheels (with various success) all while chittering about some story he half-listened to, she tried to coax them into leaving for an adventure a few times but didn’t insist for once so she kept doing clumsy cartwheels.

Mu continued her game, focused on it, Mimosa ignored the action's goal but she was fully entranced by it (despite glancing in his direction a few times, probably wondering about what he was doing).

He was cutting paper shapes with scissors and gluing those to pins he found in a box. 

Once he was satisfied with the amount of paper shapes, he tapped gently on Mu’s shoulder to get her attention. She turned around and tilted her head before eyeing a notebook laying on the ground next to her.

“You don’t have to use your book if you don’t feel like it, I won’t ask complex questions.”

His mute sister nodded and gave him her whole attention.

He pointed at his work.

“Would you like it if I put some of these on your hat to keep company to your flower pin?”

Her eyelights grew two sizes before he even finished his sentence, she stuck her hands in the pockets on each extremity of the drooping bunny ears of her dark colored hat and excitedly moved up her arms, showing the paws design sewed on that side of the pockets.

“I’ll take that for a yes!”

Mu nodded so hard her hat would have flipped away if her hands weren’t still stuffed in.

He pointed to the paper shapes and asked her to point to the ones she’d like most.

She didn’t hesitate and picked anything vaguely flower shaped plus one that looked like a lemon (or an eye?). When he interrogated her on that choice, she just uncurled her tentacle, revealing the rest of her face and smiled.

“Ok, ok, sit there and don’t move.”

He started to stick the paper bits as carefully as he could and Lint joined him on the task soon after.

They did that for a moment, he had to stop Mu from wiggling too much a few times as she grew impatient and excited.

Once they were done and confident it would hold for long enough to be satisfying, they released the small monster and she all but ran to the mirror.

Watching her twirl around in joy released a special wave of warmth in his soul. Those moments reminded him how lucky he was to still have her, how lucky he was that Fancy and the one before him found her when she had been lost and how lucky they had been to be reunited during an unplanned playtrip. 

He saw Lint watching him thoughtful in the corner of his eyes but he didn’t call her out on that.

However, when she turned her gaze back toward the mirror anew and her eyelights shrieked to almost pinpoints.

Uh?

He turned his head to discover an absence of any twirling sister and shot up.

“Where?”

Something poked his shoulder.

Lint was in front of him.

He turned around.

Nothing.

Lint was glaring at random corners.

Poc.

He looked to his left then more thoroughly to his right.

Then he was promptly yoinked from the ground by something above.

“AH-”

A hand stopped his shout and he looked at his aggressor’s face.

…Nip. 

The dark-boned-mixed-rabbit-skeleton grinned at him and made a sign to keep quiet. He reluctantly nodded and fred his mouth. 

Nipal was a strange fellow that liked far too much scaring others in his opinion, but it came with the fact he had been born from a bad dream he guessed.

Other than that, he was pretty okay.

And also holding him with a leg while crouched on all four on the ceiling.

Nip giggled silently and he watched Lint getting more and more agitated on the ground.

She was looking everywhere for them and despite glancing up a few times, Nip always moved just in time to hide from her sight.

The demon was talented in this stuff.

Nip moved towards a wall and put him on the top of a closet using only one floating hand. Mu was already waiting there and looked absolutely giddy at the event.

Nip went back to tormenting Lint and one of the puffy ends of his bunny ears almost smacked him when he turned.

Hm. Mimosa got himself comfy to admire the chaos. 

He shrugged.

That might as well happen.

Nip played for another five minutes at pocking the distraught girl running around on the floor before leaping behind her, shifting his form to a huge furry rabbit monster and caught her from behind in a hug.

Lint screamed bloody murder and Mu drew a line in her notebook. He peeked at the page… 15 was scribbled next to a vaguely bunny shaped scribble and a bit fat zero next to three bows. It looked like she had been keeping score.

He giggled. Hopefully Lint won’t see that.

This one was now hitting and biting the smug adult -to be confirmed, Nip always lied when they asked his age. 

After a bit of shifting and a whole lot of being picked up and scaling things for no reason, they all finally ended up all sitting in the center of the room.

Nipal Twees, once again in his more regular shape, clapped his hands together.

“That was amusing, how are you guys doing?”

He did not wait for their answer as he wiggled his left ear, distracting little Mu that was sitting on his lap.

“Now, kids, Toddh went out to get Fancy. Boy is taking a bit long to bring back groceries.”

Where was he going with that?

“...Kitchen’s free, who wanna bake? Badly of course!”

They answered their agreement, loudly. 

What a good idea, he was famished.

And like that, they made a beeline for the kitchen and promptly started to try baking… something…

They didn’t have any recipe and Fancy’s cookbook was creepy so they boycotted that idea.

Each busied themselves with a task they thought would help making… something?

The result was barely palatable and the kitchen was very close to what someone would consider “ruined”. 

He would not talk about the general state of their outfits. The aprons they put on had been near useless in keeping the mess at bay.

They made a game of trying to eat the biggest part without making faces. Nip was quickly banned from playing as he was unbothered by the taste and even claimed to enjoy it.

The sound of keys in a door made them all freeze.

Toddh was back.

annnnd that's the end of part one 🎶

*******************************************************

Shine, Malignance, Bow/Butterfly and Calligraphy (mentioned) belong to @creative-firebug <3

The rest is mine owu

Tagging as requested: @shinechermont

(if someone desires to be tagged in the other parts, tell me (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ) )

👉👈tagging @zu-is-here because the whole idea of that project was born because of a discussion I had with her (no I'm not telling what it was about) (zuz tell me if you want me to tag you in the other parts or not :D)

bonus:

I thought it'd be fun to put a link to the first time I put Mimosa in a comic (almost 4 years ago), I have evolved a bit

[petermorwood]

In light of all the renewed interest about Martin Scorsese’s long-overlooked “Goncharov” (1973), has anyone noticed the element which repeats in his later and much better known film “Taxi Driver” (1976)?

It’s The Gun As Protagonist Accessory.

In “Goncharov” it’s right there on the poster, held by Robert de Niro: that’s a Thompson M1921 with 50-round drum magazine, the classic gangster gun, the Chicago Typewriter, the gun that made the Twenties roar.

This weapon has appeared in many gangster movies, most famously in the original “Scarface” (1932) where Tony Camonte (Paul Muni), encounters one for the first time when it’s used in a murder attempt against him and all but falls in love with the thing.

“When this gives orders, people listen!”

In “Taxi Driver” it’s an enormous revolver, a Smith & Wesson M29 similar to the one carried by Dirty Harry, though here made even more imposing with an 8” barrel (Harry’s was only 6”).  Scorsese is making a visual comment about the way his anti-hero Travis Bickle (Robert de Niro again) compensates for perceived inadequacy.

I’m not making any observations about trigger discipline. Really. No. I’m not.

Anyway, if Bickle could be associated with the clock motif in “Goncharov” the clock in question would be a cuckoo, so playing around indoors with this hand-cannon is no more than might be expected.

“You talkin’ to me...?”

There’s even a piece on the soundtrack, accompanying the gun’s introduction, entitled “The .44 Magnum Is A Monster.” (YouTube link.)

Having said that, it’s worth noting that in the final confrontation – when Bickle proves himself a more than adequate hero by rescuing underage Iris (Jodie Foster) from her life of sex slavery – the huge revolver plays a less significant role than expected from the way it’s been set up. Bickle defeats his opponents with much smaller handguns and even cold steel in the form of a boot knife.

This hero has overcome his monster in more ways than one.  

The Thompson plays a much more prominent role in “Scarface” than in “Goncharov”. Rather than a villain’s perverse secondary love interest, there it’s built up as a necessary adjunct of brutal power, which then fades into the background of relationships presented (this was released in 1973 after all) as improper if not actually warped.

“Ice-Pick Joe” Morelli’s (John Cazales) preference for a penetrating weapon rather than a gun (also favoured by real-life mobster Abe “Kid Twist” Reles)...

... is a pointer (sorry) at aspects of his character which couldn’t yet be stated clearly on-screen. What remains obvious through Scorsese’s direction and the excellent performances of his actors is that human failings are more destructive than any mere weapon.

It’s a masterful inversion of Chekov’s Gun, the premise where “a gun shown hung on the wall (for which read “any plot element given extra emphasis”) must be fired (used) before the performance ends”.

I haven’t been able to find actual screenshots from the film so these are representative images, but I hope they’ll show how, by utilising "Goncharov”’s recurrent clock motif to segue from Ambrosini (Al Pacino) winding one of his cherished antique timepieces...

... to Lo Straniero (de Niro) winding the clockwork drive of his Thompson gun’s drum magazine (incidentally an action seldom seen in films)...

...Scorsese manipulates his audience into believing that the film will culminate in a classic head-to-head gunfight.

That’s how Brian de Palma, a much less subtle director, ends his 1983 “Scarface” remake, with Tony Montana (Al Pacino) inviting his enemies to “Say hello to my little friend!”, the grenade-launcher attached to his automatic rifle.

Though “Goncharov” does feature some firearms action (it’s a gangster film after all), Scorsese leaves most its guns on the wall as a distraction until his audience realises, as the movie’s climax approaches, that destructive violence can take place as quietly and irreversibly as the passage of time marked out by a ticking clock in a darkened room.

[non-plutonian-druid]

look guys i actually did some spirit designs

[ID: the Hargreeves' spirits in the Paranatural au - or at least, the five of them that are kids in this au.

Luther's is an ape that looks like his body from the comics. Diego's is a creature that looks a bit like a small porcupine. Allison's is a large snake with its mouth duct taped shut. Klaus' is a blue raccoon with three eyes and a pink tail, and Viktor's is based off of the White Violin from the comics, except its head transforms into reaching arms. End ID.]

sorry, the ID got REALLY long this time. that's a summary for anyone scrolling, theres a more detailed one under the cut!

[ID: Luther's spirit is labelled First Simian In Space: THE MARTIAN APE. He looks like the ape that supplied Luther's body in the comics, drawn in the paranatural style; blue, with one eye. He is wearing an astronaut helmet and sitting in a coin operated rocket ship that is much too small for it. He has transformed the world around him into a scifi martian landscape; cardboard standups with doors and lockers scribbled on them are the only indication of the real world. Luther is sprawled on the ground staring in shock, while the Martian Ape says "Y'know, you should totally just kill your dad".

Diego's spirit is a very small creature that looks a bit like a porcupine.

Panel 1: Diego holds his spirit in his hands and says, "So, what's your name?". His spirit responds "I am called..."

Panel 2: A caption appears; Projectile Extraordinaire: KRAKEN. The image is in full color, focusing on Kraken, which glowers cutely and shows off her spines.

Panel 3: The same shot as panel one, except Diego now looks very skeptical. He says "..." and then "Why." Kraken responds "It sounded cool."

Allison's spirit is a giant green snake coiled around a tree branch, with a pattern down his back that looks like open mouths.

The first two images are centered on Allison, who is scowling in both. Someone unseen says "It can force people to do things, honey!" and "It's too dangerous to leave you alone with it." and finally, "So we fixed it."

The final image is of the spirit. He is captioned Muzzled Mind Controller: THE RUMOR. His mouth has been duct taped shut. He does not look pleased.

Klaus' spirit is a blue raccoon with dark purple legs and a fluffy striped pink tail. It also has three eyes.

Panel 1: The large colored closeup of Klaus' spirit. It is captioned Mystical Conartist: THE SEANCE.

Panel 2: Klaus asks it "With a name like that, what's your power?" The Seance, its nose just high enough to fit into frame, replies, "Oh, I can sense ghosts"

Panel 3: Klaus looks supremely unimpressed. In the background, a ghost says "Hi" to Allison and Luther, and they say "Oh, hey" back.

Panel 4: Klaus asks, "Seriously?"

Panel 5: The Seance, viewed from above, says "Hey, I can sense them even when they're not visible! Like behind walls and stuff!"

Panel 6: The Seance adds "Also I can float." It is demonstrating, floating about eye level with Klaus and emitting a cloud of cyan spectral energy as it does so. Klaus looks more pleased with this and says "Okay, that one's pretty good."

Viktor's spirit is a Wight, a spirit so warped by rage and pain that it has permanently been changed, its spectral energy has become white, and has gained massive, devastating power. It looks a lot like the design of the White Violin in the comics, but it manifests too many or too few arms from where its head should be.

There are three images of it. In the first, it is kneeling. It has manifested six arms in varying degrees of completeness, and all of them look sad.

In the second, the matter of its head has split into many small pieces that almost look like parts of mouths, save for two clawing hands. It screams, in the Wight spirit language from Paranatural, WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME.

In the third, the largest, its knees buckle as it stands and manifests one reaching hand. It is captioned Violent White: THE WHITE VIOLIN. End ID]

[starrysharks]

hi!!! i absolutely adore reassassination and im not sure if this has been asked yet or not but how did you come up with the plot/general idea of reassassination?

ah the inspiration for RAA came from a lot of things! some media and some personal experiences.

the style of RAA is heavily inspired by late 90s to mid 2000s cartoons and subcultures like goth, industrial/rivethead culture, scene, and spooky kids/nu metal/mall-goths. originally each character was to reflect a certain subculture and this still exists loosely within the series (eg. valentine/angel is based off of gyaruo, and onion is intended to be slightly reminiscent of emo). and of course, horror films, especially campy ones. stuff like rocky horror, saw, ginger snaps, and the machine girl!

i came up with the plot by chance. before finalising the premise of "zombie girl comes back from the dead to get revenge on her killer", i rewatched all of panty and stocking, and really loved the idea of a badass killer girl and her strange mysterious mentor. it's my fav trope, esp in stylish movies like sucker punch. before that, i had a very loose premise of octavia and kranken running a fucked up clinic together in episodic fashion - think like "clinic of horrors" by merryweathery.

anyway we eventually got to the premise of "zombie girl attends school killing people in secret to advance her mentor's plans". i needed to flesh things out a bit, so added some villains (then a school council rather than a full org), and gave octavia a simple, edgy little motive - kill her killer. i thought it was funny and fitted the "edgy on purpose" vibe i've always wanted RAA to have. the plan for the format changed from mostly vulgar, episodic comedy to slightly more serious serialised horror dramady, but the edgy, silly premise remained.

if you wouldn't mind me talking about it in particular, parts of the clear crucifix org are inspired by televangelism and the churches my mother would take me to when i was younger for the most part. televangelists are self-righteous, holier-than-thou scumbags who pressure the vulnerable into giving them money and relying on them out of the promise of salvation. the fact that they take christianity and warp/ignore/change the rules around to fit their plans inspired the philosophy of the CCO - it's exaggerated in that they blatantly go against their own religion by basing their org off of killing those they see as unrighteous or wrong. i went to lots of different churches when i was younger - some more protestant and some more pentecostal, though CCO ended up being based on catholicism because i know a lot about it (got a 8, the UK equivalent to an A, in religious studies lol). to me the protestant churches seemed a lot lighthearted but still had that underlying sense of judgement and shame, and the pentecostal churches were pretty explicitly "if you don't believe/if you are gay, trans, or anything against the norm you will go to hell". those pentecostal churches were also more violent and scary to me as a kid (exorcisms and religious ecstasy creep me out to this day) which inspired the more intense, horrific torture-esque parts of the CCO that will be in the comic!

well i hope you don't mind that wall of text lol, i could write more about specifics but i don't want to go into too much detail about everything! thank you so much for this question! :D

[earthtoharlow]

Teach Me

6. June

Series Masterlist

Jack smiles as he watches Jayla walk across the stage to receive her Student of the Year award. He was so proud of her. Jayla grins wide as the crowd gives her a round of applause. He stands to wave, trying to get her attention when he notices she was looking for him in the crowd. Jayla waves back and excitedly shakes the certificate towards his direction. 

It was finally the last day of school and that meant Miss Love—Ariel was going to officially be his. Ariel was currently sitting on stage with the other teachers. She looked beautiful. Jack had never felt so strongly for anyone in such a long time. When Alyssa passed away suddenly, he gave up on relationships and love. Wanting to focus on being the best father he could be for Jayla. Now, the woman who he’d only kissed once and went on a few dates with had become the second most important person in his life. 

The ceremony ended after a few closing remarks from the principal before the parents were allowed to take their child home after signing them out. 

Jack stood by the wall with his hands hidden behind him, waiting for the auditorium to clear out. Jayla was holding hands with Ariel as she skipped towards him. He could see the excitement from the day she had shine in her eyes. Jack lowered to her level as she let go of her teacher's hand and gave him a hug. 

“DADDY, LOOK!” Jayla exclaimed as she pulled back from the hug to show him her certificate.

“Your hard work, and dedication have been instrumental in your success and we are honored to recognize your accomplishments.” Jack read out loud to her. 

“Woah, you’re the smartest kid ever!” Jack told her before giving her kisses all over face, Jayla giggling as he did so. 

Jack stands back to his feet as he lets her go and smiles when he makes eye contact with Ariel. 

Rocking on the back of his heels he’s the first to speak. “Miss Love…” he savors the name on his tongue 

“Mr. Harlow...” Ariel replies, giving him the same smile. 

“It’s the last day of school.” Jack tries to mention nonchalantly. 

“Hm, I guess it is huh?” Ariel says finding it hard to hold in her grin. 

Before he could pull out what was behind his back. He hears Jayla speak up. “FLOWERS!!”

Ariel covers her mouth to stop herself from laughing as Jack’s head drops with a smile. He brings the flowers in front of them, handing one to Ariel and the smaller sized bouquet to Jayla. 

Almost in sync he watches as they both pull the flowers to their chest and press their noses to the petals to give them a smell. 

While the auditorium was clearing out, Jack could still feel eyes on the three of them. For once he didn’t care. 

“Thank you, Jack.” Ariel smiles sweetly and steps closer to him. 

Jack suddenly got nervous the closer she got. Today was finally the day and here he was nervous to make it official.

“Ariel, will you be my girlfriend?” Jack asks softly, barely above a whisper. He didn’t give her a chance to respond before he started rambling.

“No pressure though! If you think we need more time to get to know each other than that’s completely fine, I TOTALLY understand and—“

Ariel quickly cuts him off. “Jack, shut up and kiss me.”

Jack eyes widens for a moment before he places a hand on her waist, pulling Ariel closer before kissing her. Right in front of the lingering parents and their children. A closed lip kiss, promising more. 

Ariel begins laughing into the kiss when they hear Jayla’s childish “Yuck!” next to them. They pulled away and Jack lifted Jayla up in his arms. With one arm warped around Jack, Jayla turned and wrapped her other arm around Ariel, pulling her as close as she could. 

“GROUP HUG!” Jayla squealed

The three stood in the auditorium hugging, with huge smiles stretched across their faces. Feeling like a family. Jack couldn’t remember the last time he was this happy and content.

***

Jayla didn’t usually wake up before her alarm but today was a very special day. She was finally graduating high school. She sits up in her bed and climbs out and starts getting ready for the day.

Once Jayla is dressed she walks down the hallway and stops when she hears giggling coming from the kids room, opening it quietly, a smile forms on her lips as they both turn to look at their big sister. 

“What are you boogers doing?”

Jayla grins as Jackson laughs loudly, because everything gross is hilarious at five years old. His twin sister Jasmine didn’t find that as funny as her brother did, scrunching up her nose and rolling her eyes. 

“We’re watching Daddy’s video again!” Jackson explained, pointing towards the television. Walking further in the room she moves towards the TV and Dad’s music video for his return single, They Don’t Love It was playing. She always loved that video and how he filmed it at their favorite spots in Kentucky. Even going back to his old schools including her current High School where she was graduating from today. 

They continue watching the video together before it turns off and goes on to play the next song. 

“Okay, guys! Go brush ya teeth so we can get ready to go.” Jayla tells them as she tickles their sides and pushes them towards their bathroom, she shakes her head watching the twins push each other trying to get to the sink first. 

Once teeth are brushed she helps them into their shoes. Jackson holds on to Jayla’s hand while the princess, Jasmine motions to be carried down the stairs, giving her big sister puppy dog eyes. Sometimes Jayla hated herself for teaching her that. 

Making their way to the kitchen, the twins run towards the table as Jayla goes through the fridge and cabinets. 

“You aren’t going to cook for us, are you?” Jasmine asks concerned, wide eyed. 

“I was going to cook y’all some eggs and toast?” Before the words could even finish coming out her mouth the twins were shaking their heads no.

“Please don’t! Last time you burnt the toast!” Jackson exclaimed

“Yeah! Daddy said the toast was as hard as your head!” Jasmine said with a laugh 

“He would know, have you seen that old man’s head? It looks like a flying saucer!” The twins start laughing before their eyes grow wide in a way she knows their dad was standing right behind her. 

“Flying saucer, huh?” Jack said, giving his oldest a pointed look. 

“Mornin’ daddy!” Jasmine smiles from her seat, legs swinging back and forth. 

“Mornin’ Jas” Jack says as he places a kiss on her forehead, before moving on to Jackson, doing their secret handshake that Jayla as seen her father do plenty of times with her Uncle Urban, he ends the handshake with the same kiss he placed on Jasmine.

Making his way back around the kitchen table, Jayla doesn’t bother trying to move away as he places a kiss on her forehead.

“Now, go finish doing your hair, so we can get ready to leave. The valedictorian can’t be late to her own graduation.” Jack’s voice was full of pride saying that out loud. 

Jayla nods, places a kiss on her father’s cheek and leaves the kitchen. 

As she was walking back up the stairs she heard the twins speak

“Thank you for saving us daddy!”

“Yeah, I didn’t want to eat her runny eggs!”

***

Jayla stared at herself in the mirror, dressed in her graduation gown with the multiple cords and stoles laid across her shoulders. 

She couldn’t believe she was graduating high school, it seems like yesterday she was starting freshman year and in a couple hours she would be walking across the stage and be handed her diploma. 

Deep in thought she hears a soft knock on her door before Ariel peeks her head in, her eyes watering immediately as she finds Jayla standing in her gown. 

“Ariel, can we at least wait till the ceremony to start crying?” Jayla says, eyes meeting her in the mirror. 

“Sorry.” Ariel sniffles, before closing the door and walking towards her. 

“You just look so beautiful, and grown. I just can’t believe it.” She says with her lip quivering, eyes beaming with tears. 

“Stop.” Jayla practically begs. “If you start crying then I’m going to start crying. Dad will notice and he’ll really be crying all day. Besides, it’s just high school.”

Ariel just gave her a watery smile, and wipes away the tears that were threatening to fall down her cheeks. “Oh hush, that’s a big accomplishment and you know it. Plus, you’re valedictorian.”

“Now, give me a hug and let’s start heading out the door.” Ariel said before holding her arms out for Jayla. Jayla wraps her arms around Ariel as she pulls her into a hug. “I love you, ma.” 

Ariel tries to hold back tears as she presses a long kiss to her cheek. “I love you more. Now c’mon!”

***

“And now a few words from our valedictorian, Jayla Harlow!” 

Jayla takes a deep breath before standing up from her seat on stage and walks towards the podium. Waiting for the crowd to settle down before starting. 

“Good morning, everyone. I’m going to try to make this as short and sweet as possible, I promise.” She smiles when she hears small chuckles from the crowd. 

“First I want to congratulate each and every one of you on this major milestone. Graduating isn’t just about what you’ve learned, but it’s also about the people who helped shape our lives these last couple years. So I wanted to take a moment to thank our teachers, the ones who have been there from the start. Your patience and guidance are what has brought us here now. I wanted to give a shout-out to my favorite teacher. Many of you were lucky enough to have her as your teacher, or you have siblings who she’s taught…Students call her Mrs. Love-Harlow, but I call her mom. 

Jayla swallowed hard, trying to control her emotions. She knew that if she made eye contact with her in the crowd that she would start crying. 

“Mrs. Love becoming my first grade teacher was the best thing that could’ve ever happened to me. I can’t even begin to say how grateful I am for the impact you made in my life. You honestly deserve a medal. Mrs. Love played such a huge role in building me, readying and steadying and preparing me for this very moment right here.”

Jayla could no longer stop the tears falling down her face, as she spoke again. “I would not be who I am today without you becoming my teacher. So thank you.”

Finally looking out into the crowd, she spotted her immediately. She had a tissue pressed against her eyes, failing to stop the flow of tears. The tears couldn’t even stop the huge smile that was on her face. 

Getting her emotions in check the best she could Jayla continued her speech, congratulating the students and thanking parents. 

“To quote my famous father, BIT—, I TOLD YOU!” 

***

“I’m so proud of you, kiddo.” Jack told Jayla as he sat beside her in the grass. The graduation ceremony ended hours ago, her graduation party was in full swing back at the house. The two had snuck away to the place they always visit after a huge milestone

“And, I know your mother is too.” 

Jayla nodded, she knew her mother was proud of her. She felt her presence heavy on days like this. “You know, the older you get the more you start to look like her.”

Turning her head towards her father, she gave him a questioning look. Most days when she looked in the mirror she looked just like him. 

Jack laughed at the expression on his first born face. “I’m not sure why you’re so shocked. I really do wish I could take credit for more than your hair. You got your good looks from your mother.” He said, bumping his shoulder lightly into hers. 

It was quiet for a few moments as they stared at the beautiful tombstone in front of them.

Reaching into his pocket Jack pulls out a folded piece of paper, and hands it to her.

“Here, I want you to have this. She wrote this right before she passed. When this day came she had this whole thing planned out but she never was able to complete it.”

“I’ve never opened it or read it. That’s between you and your mother.” Jack says as he begins to stand up but not before pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I’m going to be in the car, take all the time you need.” 

Jayla's hands start to shake as she begins to open the letter. 

Dear, my Jay Bear,

Here we are! This day has been 18 years in the making, 13 years of school work, long hours of studying and accomplishing dreams.

I am so proud of you, proud isn't a strong enough word to describe how I feel. Maybe that’s why this is making me so emotional, I apologize for the tear stains. You are my heart walking around this world. No matter what happens to me, that will never change.

I know you will go on to do amazing things in life, your father and I have prepared you for this journey. 

I’m sure you’re going through so many different emotions right now. But you are ready, you’re ready for college, you’re ready to make tough adult decisions, and ready to be on your own. Even if you don’t feel ready, just know that you are. 

As this chapter closes, know that you have made me so proud, so happy, so everything!! You will continue each and every day to make me proud!

Happy Graduation day my sweet girl! You are my greatest accomplishment in life!

Jayla hugged the letter to her chest and cried. She was going to cherish this letter forever. 

A deep calmness slowly settled in her chest, as she thought about her Angel in the sky, and her family. Her mother was right. She is ready for whatever this world has in store for her, because she now has two moms, and an amazing father to help guide her through this transition in life. 

And she wouldn’t have it any other way.

***

AN: I can't believe this series is over! I'm crying I want to just say thank you to everyone who liked/reblogged/sent messages etc. It means so much to me. I hope you all enjoyed this little family and this little world as much as I have. Please tell me your thoughts, I want to hear about your favorite part or even your favorite chapter, moment in this series!!

Tag List:

(message me if you'd like to be added or removed)

@heavyhitterheaux @hoodharlow @neon-lights-and-glitter @babiefries @toocriticalharlow @mace23477 @jackmans-poison @dstark-0706 @harlowsbby @itsyagirljaz @leftapricotprofessorlover @blossomluvv @comehomeimissyou @minkookie95 @harlowcomehome @jackharloww @wabi-sabi1090 @violetslays818 @w1ldthoughts @katiaw2 @alimaythings @hufflewhore128

[hunterswithcell-phones]

the death of all things that are seen and unseen

Okay, here's my fic for the @pieceofshitregulus Fest! Thanks so much for putting this together, and here it is.

The Astronomy Tower’s time warping effect manages to astound Regulus every time he makes the trek, which is more and more often these days. The tower allows him to spend his nights staring at the stars, so he ignores the rickety floors, which would usually destroy his sanity.

Without access to the tower, Regulus would spend far more hours staring at his walls while considering his imminent death, along with the imminent deaths of the few he let get close to him. Not James, though. He’ll live. Regulus is sure of it.

Considering the hand Potter has been given so far, it would only make sense for him to find the perfect woman for him to settle down with post-war and have 2.5 kids and be the best parent anyone has ever seen.

Not that Regulus will be around to see it.

Footsteps hit the stone steps leading to this room.

The footfalls hit faster and louder the longer Regulus waits, captive to their obnoxious sounds. He prepares to raise his voice with the usual speech that sends most people packing. Or he could skip right to the threat on their lives.

When Potter’s face appears in the doorway, any preparation goes to hell.

Didn’t James understand they were over? There is no reviving them.

“Leave.”

“But—”

“But nothing. Go back to my brother and get a good rest or whatever you Griffindors call it.”

James tries again. “But—”

“We are broken up and I’m not interested in going back on my words.”

Like the idiot James is, he stays. It’s what Regulus always loved about him. What Regulus still love about him. Not that he would ever tell James that there’s even a shred of hope they could get back together. “Reg, what if we stayed together?”

Regulus rolls his eyes. “I would join the Death Eaters and you would join the Order and you would spend the rest of my life trying to get me to join the Order and you would never understand that it isn’t a choice.”

“But what if you left with me this summer?”

How does he not get this? “And what? Live a normal domestic life as though Mother and Father won’t rain hell to get back their heir? This time, they won’t leave Sirius. They’ll take us both.”

The glint of hope hasn’t left James’ eyes. Foolish. “But my parents won’t let them.”

“Mother doesn’t need permission from a family outside the Sacred 28. I know you have 2 great parents who accept you for who you are and let you join the Order and take in your rag tag group of friends, but that was never an option for me. You will never understand the political games Sirius and I have navigated since birth. As much as it looks like he put absolutely 0 effort into escaping, it was all calculated. He played his cards right. You,on the other hand, were handed aces that you seem to be so keen to give to everyone else.”

“But—but.”

If he can’t accept it, I’ll have to raise my voice. “But nothing, Potter. Go. I don’t want to be reminded of how well my life could have ended.”

It must have sunk in this time. Head down, James stalks out.

[strayheartless]

Cloud wakes up one morning in Edge, and everything is normal...but he feels like someone something is missing. He's used to it, his memory is shit these days, whatever.

Squall wakes up one morning, in his queen sized bed, all alone. Huh, that's unusual totally normal, like he gives a shit.

Neither of them realize time and space warped them into the same world for 10 years, where they got together, then warped them out and erased them from each other's memories and worlds.

😈

I know I asked for this but HECKIN’ OWWWWWWWWWWWW.

***

Denzel is pretty used to Cloud taking a second to recognise him in the morning. Tifa and Marlene say it happens sometimes, and he’s lived with them long enough now to know that it’s not personal. Still, this morning seems particularly bad.

Cloud is staring at him perplexed across the breakfast table, ignoring his own toast. He blinks hard a couple of times, then shakes his head and squeezes his eyes shut tighter. He looks upset by something, maybe even a little confused.

“Cloud, is everything okay?” Tifa asks from the sink and Cloud opens his eyes breathing deeply.

“Yeah,” he mutters, reaching out to push Denzel’s bangs out of his eyes.

“Has your hair gotten lighter?” He asks and Denzel makes a confused sound.

“I don’t think so,” he says.

Cloud pulls his hand back, letting the hair flop back into place and Scrubs at his face, frustrated.

“Hey,” Tifa rounds the table and kneels next to his chair. “You sure your okay? You look spooked,”

Cloud let his head hang for a second, gripping at his own neck so hard that Tifa reaches out to extract his nails from his nape.

“I- I feel like I’m missing something. Like someone should be here and they’re not. But I can’t tell who,”

“Marlene?” Zel guesses but Cloud shakes his head.

“Were you dreaming about Zack and Aerith again?” Was Tifa’s guess.

“Not that I can remember,” Cloud shakes his head again and lets Tifa take over massaging his neck.

They were all familiar with Clouds spotty memory. Sometimes he forgot Aerith was dead. Sometimes he would wake up and insist that he had to go meet Zack at some hole in the wall pizza joint that hadn’t existed since Meteor fall. On really bad days he didn’t talk, just stared at everyone like he didn’t know who they were. Like he was completely vacant.

“Do you want me to call your Clients for today and postpone deliveries?”

“No,” Cloudbutted his head against Tifa’s shoulder, something he’d taken to doing as a sign of affection when his words were failing him.

She ruffled the back of his hair and let him get on his way.

There weren’t many deliveries that day anyway. His first was Cid and as he walked into the shop he almost dropped the box at the sight of Shera. He doesn’t know why, but he hadn’t expected her to be there. The Workshop looked wrong too. Had Cid painted the hill of the Gum- airship? Cloud tsked. He liked the red better.

“Hey kid, Y’alright?” Cloud jumps again. He swings round to see Cid squinting at him from behind his shouldering goggles.

“Yeah,” he not-quite-lies. “Just having an off day… feel like I’ve lost something. Don’t know what,”

Cid snorts.

“That’s called getting old son,”

“That’s called almost drowning in Mako twice chief,” Cloud bites back, but there’s no real heat to it.

“Yeah yeah, you’re a walk-in’ talking’ miracle. I got it,” he hands Cloud the cash for delivery and Cloud pockets it without checking. Even if it wasn’t all there, he knew Cid was good for it. Even if he wasn’t Cloud would let him off. He always did for friends.

“You got many more o’these?” Cid asked, sucking on the end of his cigarette. Cloud thought it was a tooth pick… weird.

“Couple. Headed out to Kalm next.”

“Well you be careful, it’s gettin’ Squally out there,”

Cloud freezes. The image of a face burns itself into the forefront of his mind. A hand holding his that just a touch bigger. A body in his bed that he knows is going to start out on the other side of the bed, but will inevitably Koala itself to his back. A dumb jacket with an even dumber white fur collar. A slim set of hips adorned with far too many belts to be practical. A Gunblade. A scar across the bridge of a wonderfully sloped nose. A set of warm Hazelnut eyes.

Squall.

Clouds knees give out, hitting the tiled floor with a horrific crack.

He Screams at the sky.

****

“Can I help you Quistis?” Squall grumbles as he flips through the mornings reports. She’s been stood in his office too long and if she keeps staring at him like that he’s going to end up growsing something he regrets.

Fuck, his head is pounding.

“You seem off today.” She says like it���s an off hand comment. Squall resists the urge to roll his eyes.

“Didn’t sleep well.” He mutters, scribbling his signature at the bottom of a page. The next set of papers is about refurbishments to the western corridors. He massages between his eyes with the knuckle of his pointer finger.

Hadn’t they done that at the beginning of last year? Sora had talked his ear off about it being too much of a rabbit warr-

Who?

Squall blinks. Who the hell was Sora?

“Are you sure that’s all it is? Rinoa says you’ve been pretty in and out all day,”

“And I suppose Rinoa is the foremost authority on my moods,” it’s a unnecessary bite, one that he doesn’t even know the reason for. His wife is absolutely the authority on his mood swings. She’s generally the only one that can handle them.

No she isn’t.

Squall puts his pen down and places his head in his hands. His headache felt like someone was drilling into his eyes and temple. He just wants today to be over. He wants to go back home to C-

To Rinoa.

Quistis looks at him for a second, before seemingly deciding it’s not worth arguing with him. Instead she waits for him to finish signing papers while she looks out of his office window.

“Sure is Cloudy today,”

There’s a crash from behind her and as she spins around she finds Squall on his hands and knees on the carpet heaving up the pasty and Coffee she’d brought him. He’s sobbing hysterically as his mind faces a million miles a second and his head feels like it’s going to explode with the pressure of the memories.

A hand a little smaller than his, that was calloused and almost always covered in motor oil. A tiny waist that was just right for wrapping his arms around in the early mornings and late nights. Broad shoulders clad in paldrons. A wold at his heart. A wolf in his ear. The most dazzlingly blue eyes Squall has event seen. Bright blond hair. A stupidly large sword wrapped in bandages so he “didn’t hurt the kid”. A scarred sternum and torso under his hand.

Cloud.

Squall passed out from the pain.

[tinytinyblogs]

Hi!<3 was wondering if you could write a yandere seungmin where reader finds out he’s obsessed and gets all bratty calling him creepy and stuff until he shoved her on the bed and puts her in her place

Keep in mind

It was all about timing, and you only figured it out now. His forever.

(yandere theme, obsessed seungmin, and a lot more) 1,4k words

💬Ta-da! Request complete (fingers crossed)! I'm always in training mode, giving it my A-game. Other requests are open season, just a friendly reminder that I don't write smut. I hope you understand.

Stray kids masterlist here

He used to be a portrait of chivalry, wrapped in charming cuteness. A constant, caring presence, admired by all, his gaze forever on you. Wherever you went, his shadow lingered, an echo of every word whispered on your lips, every opinion uttered about you. He devoured your secrets, accumulating them like trophies in his ever-growing shrine. His excitement, once endearing, morphed into a chilling possessiveness. Every gift became a claim, every memento a stolen piece of your soul. Your reflection, captured in his lens without your consent, became his currency, an ever-expanding catalogue of your existence. Behind his mask of innocence, a disquieting reality lurked. You dismissed your anxieties as unfounded, your worries mere whispers in the wind. But a nagging doubt refused to be silenced. And then, with a single, foolish 'yes' to his seemingly harmless request, the truth shattered the illusions.

He wasn't smitten, he was enthralled. This wasn't puppy love, it was a predatory obsession. The scales fell from your eyes, revealing a darkness hidden in plain sight. The cute prince had become a stalker, leaving you trapped in a gilded cage of his own making. The air hung heavy with a stifling dread as you stepped into Seungmin's room. It was a macabre museum of your life, each carefully collected item a chilling testament to his obsession. Photos plastered on the walls, your possessions eerily familiar in their alien display, cast grotesque shadows under the flickering light. Every inch screamed of your stolen intimacy, a suffocating tapestry woven from the threads of your life. The click of the front door echoed in the tomb-like silence, a brutal punctuation mark on the spiraling paranoia gnawing at your insides. Then, his voice, like honey laced with cyanide, slithered from behind you, "Glad you could make it."

"Surprised to see you here. I almost expected you to run off with your shiny new coffee buddy." Every nerve ending in your body screamed. The sickening sweetness of his words, the way he knew about your coffee shop conversation like it was etched into his bones, it all solidified the terrifying truth. He wasn't your charming friend, he was a puppet master, pulling the strings of your reality. A tremor rippled through you, nausea churning in your gut. "Sick," you rasped, the word falling short against the immensity of your disgust. His secrets, whispered against the backdrop of your adoration, felt like a slap in the face. The years of admiring him from afar, building him up in your mind, now crumbled to dust, leaving you with an aching sense of disillusionment. You spun around, facing the monster he truly was. "Seungmin, you're... goddamned sick," the accusation rang out, a strangled cry against the suffocating darkness of his obsession.

Yet, Seungmin's face held no remorse, only a chilling serenity. The air crackled with his warped delight, his eyes gleaming with predatory hunger. "Insane, Stay away from me!" your voice rasped, the words hollow against the suffocating atmosphere. But your plea bounced off him like a feather against steel. Laughter, cold and metallic, erupted from his chest, echoing in the cramped room like a chorus of demons. "I hate it, i hate you." His laughter echoed like cruel applause as your choked whisper of hatred washed over him, each chuckle twisting the knife deeper. "Oh, Y/N," he drawled, the familiar charm morphing into something monstrous, "that's hardly fresh news. This," he gestured expansively at the shrine to your stolen privacy, "this is just a love letter, penned in stolen moments." You recoiled, the nausea returning with a vengeance.

The Seungmin you'd known, the gentle, almost fragile boy, was a wisp of smoke blown away by the chilling reality before you. This monster, capable of collecting your existence like trophies, could do more than crush an ant. He could crush you. "Me? Sick? Crazy? Insane?" His smile, once boyish, now held a cruel edge. "What else, my dear Y/N? Let's hear your full repertoire of accusations." His voice, still honeyed, twisted with a hint of irritation, as if your resistance was an inconvenience rather than a threat. He leaned closer, a predator savoring his cornered prey. "Tell me," he breathed, his eyes glinting with a twisted challenge, "what else shall I be for you?" The room spun as he lunged at you, his predatory smile glinting in the dim light. You stumbled back, searching for any avenue of escape, but Seungmin was upon you in a flash. His hand, once seemingly so gentle, clamped around your waist with an iron grip, his strength far exceeding anything you'd ever imagined.

He spun you, your vision twisting as the world tilted and the plush bed rushed up to meet you. A gasp escaped your lips as you landed with a jarring thud, his heavy form pinning you down. His arms caged you, their warmth a suffocating contrast to the icy fear slithering up your spine. "Cat got your tongue, little mouse?" His voice, once melodious, now dripped with a cruel amusement. You saw a flash of something unfamiliar in his eyes, a dark hunger lurking beneath the surface. You tried to push him away, your breath coming in ragged gasps. But it was like fighting a shadow, his hold unyielding. His face loomed over you, his smile twisting into a predatory smirk. "Call me whatever you like, Y/N," he purred, his voice brushing against your ear like a venomous whisper. "But remember this," his eyes bored into yours, pinning you as surely as his body, "you will never, ever be out of my sight." The air thrummed with a suffocating silence, broken only by your choked breaths and the rapid hammering of your heart. You felt small, helpless, like a fragile butterfly trapped in a spider's web.

The Seungmin you once knew, the boy of sun-kissed smiles and gentle whispers, had vanished, replaced by a dark stranger whose eyes held the glint of a predator savoring its prey. The harsh crack of his fist against the bedframe echoed in your skull, the world tilting on its axis. A stunned silence stretched before his voice, laced with a dark amusement, washed over you. "Stay away from you?" he mused, his face a chilling tableau of conflicting emotions. He leaned closer, his hot breath a cloying presence on your cheek. Your eyes locked onto his, the once familiar warmth extinguished, replaced by a possessive glint that sent shivers down your spine. "My dear," he uttered, his voice a honeyed trap, "that's the exquisite beauty of today. You are finally mine. All mine." The weight of his words pressed down on you, each syllable a heavy stone pinning you to the bed, to him, to this suffocating reality.

You envisioned sunny afternoons spent in carefree laughter, stolen smiles shared with someone new – all ripped away in a single blow. "No more stolen moments," he continued, his gaze tracing the lines of your face, a predator savoring his prey. "No more whispered secrets traded with fleeting shadows. No more need to stalk your every step, for every path now leads back to me." The room shrunk, morphing into a gilded cage, the air thick with unspoken threats. His words, laced with a twisted affection, were a chilling promise of forever, a possessive claim etched into your very being. You tried to escape the suffocating hold of his gaze, a desperate attempt to reclaim your stolen breath. But his fingers, quick and cold, snagged your chin, dragging your attention back to those eyes you once mistook for innocent pools of sunlight. Now, they burned with a possessive fire, an unsettling echo of the darkness hidden beneath his charming facade.

"Make sure you etch this into your fragile little mind, darling," he purred, his voice dropping to a silken whisper that sent chills down your spine. "From the very first moment, I set my sights on you. You were mine, in my mind, in my soul. And nobody, nobody on this earth deserves the flicker of your attention but me. Not a knowing smile, not a whispered word. Understand?" He leaned closer, his breath hot on your skin, a palpable threat hanging in the air. "Because if you stray, if your eyes dare to linger on another, I won't hesitate to show you exactly what I'll do to them. You'll witness firsthand the wrath of a jealous god, and I promise, you won't like the picture." He pulled back, a chilling smile twisting his lips. Seungmin traced the lines of her face, a map he'd memorized over countless stolen glances. Her fear, though muted, was a heady perfume, intoxicating him with its promise of absolute control. He'd craved her for so long, a phantom limb finally finding its missing piece. And now, with her under his arm, the world felt whole, complete. "Keep in mind, darling."

©Tinytinyblogs

[leggerefiore]

ive been playing through pokemon diamond recently and got to the galactic hq segment and now I can't stop thinking about cyrus's s/o trying to visit him at work and getting lost in the warp maze 😭

cute idea....

Two Galactic grunts sighed after their shift leader finally opted to give them a break. It felt like they had been forgotten about, but finally, one of them had got fed up and demanded it. Instantly, they were relieved. They wandered through the warp panels mindlessly for a moment. Then, something caught their attention. A distant sound. Neither were quite sure what it was, but they definitely heard it. Stopping in a storage room, one of them peered over the boxes to see a person sitting on the floor with their back pressed against the wall. A phone was in their hands as they typed desperately. The grunt felt bewildered.

An intruder…? There had been a few reporters who had got in before alongside some kids, but this did not seem like either of those situations. Their head perked up at the sound of one of the grunts gasping. Eyes met each other. They walked over.

“Please take me to Cyrus.”

The words made both of the grunts freeze in place. Cyrus… As in, Master Cyrus? The head of Galactic – That Cyrus? Neither of them had ever had a one-on-one chance meeting with him, let alone daring to go to his office. Yet, this strange so confidently and boldly asked. The less keen of the two was about to back away and leave the stranger, but the other stopped them. If they left someone like this, they would be disciplined in some way. Yet, before they could agree, the warp panel behind then activated. Both turned around and nearly fainted at who stood there. Cyrus himself had decided to show up.

“… Saturn alerted me to a lot of strange warp activity,” his voice was the one that often inspired them out to make the new world that he promised. “You two may step away. I will handle this from here.” The grunts nodded and headed back to the exit, ready to continue their break. Though, as they stepped on the bright yellow panel, they saw the stranger bury their face into Cyrus's chest. He simply stood awkwardly. Neither of them wished to remain and see what fall out would follow.

~

A hand rubbed at your back as frustrated tears escaped your eyes. Those stupid warp panels… You had wanted to surprise Cyrus at work with a (still-warm) lunch that you had made. It took nearly ten minutes to convince the receptionist to let you in, much less the time you spent confused by in the warp maze that this building had some unknown reason. You nuzzled your face more into his shirt.

“… There, there,” he sounded a bit uncertain, “Did something happen…?” You looked up at him with puffy eyes. His controlled expression fell apart for a moment. “Come along,” he lightly moved you away, “My office will be better to speak than here.” Truthfully, the storage room likely had a few Spinaraks creeping around, and he was not particularly in the mood for them.

In the end, you got to enjoy your lunch with him while getting some admittedly rare Cyrus cuddles due to how upset you had seemed. Saturn nearly dropped the papers that he was holding when he walked in to see you sitting in his boss's lap, feeding him your cooking.

[balbs4321]

 Snug⋆Kyōjurō Rengoku

kyojuro rengoku⋆black!reader(smut)

By expanding, you are consenting to viewing adult content 18+ Minors DNI grown folk activities not for everybody ᥫ᭡

Rengoku pushed your legs up against your tummy, before thrusting into. His large size is enough to kiss you cervix the first time he parted your velvety walls. “Fuck! Rengoku.” He grunted before pulling his cock back a little. “Just a little more- doin so good takin daddy’s dick~”

Rengoku slid his dick all the way out so slowly, before slamming himself in against, connecting each others hips. You gripped the back of his shirt, letting out a muffled moan. “nghh~ t-that’s right ma’ma keep squeezing me like that” Ren squeezed your waist, dragging his cock further into your drooling cunt.

His tip kissed you cervix multiple times, forcing you to let out an array of noises. It felt like he was fucking inside of your rib cage. You watched his pretty face warp expression that showed his closeness. He delivered another thrust, and you felt his thick cock go far inside of you. This resulted in you squeezing around him tightly. “If you squeeze me like that again I’m gonna end up filling you up with my kid”

Rengoku cock began to twitch, before he released his warmth inside of you. He moaned at the feeling before sitting up. “Round two?”

Hope you liked, bc this man is scrunches