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stevenbasic · 2 months ago

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GITJ Post 410: Babysitting, p5 (Breakroom Interlude Two)

“So, Keeks…what are we doing tonight?” asked the tall and thin but strikingly shapely young woman as she came into the breakroom of Far Horizons Medical Associates.

Lakshmi Vallurupalli, Lead Medical Assistant, looked up from her phone to her new friend. Both girls were in blue scrubs, and mostly done with their work day. “Hi Josie,” she smiled, watching Josie plunk down in the seat across the small table from her. Lakshmi had been re-watching a clip from one of the afternoon talk shows, suggested to her by a clinic patient earlier, an episode that had aired earlier this afternoon. She smiled wanly, and put the phone down. “Tonight? I cannot do anything tonight. Father says he wants me at home.”

“For real?” Josie answered, trying not to scoff too hard. She understood the pressures her friend felt, coming from a traditional household, and she tried to be sensitive. Even in today’s day and age, with the patriarchy quietly (or not so quietly) crumbling, some weird-ass traditions held on. But…still. “You have to turn that shit off. You’re twenty-four years old. And, besides…hasn’t your mom put him in his place already?”

To that, Lakshmi had to fight back a secret smile, and tried not to blush. ‘Put him in his place’…haha. Lakshmi had, just two nights ago, came into her parent’s bedroom to find her mother straddling her father’s naked body and shoving something in his mouth. Neither parent had seen her. Or at least, she certainly hoped they hadn’t. She had turned and stepped away quickly, but the image was now there, burned into her brain forever. She quietly blushed as she recalled it. Lakshmi respected her parents’ privacy enough to not say anything to anyone, even to her new best friend, but the memory did make her rethink her father’s demands. They seemed kind of silly, now. “Haha okay,” she answered, “You are right. I am a grown woman, I guess.”

“Yes you are and I’m taking this grown-woman out for shopping and an Amaretto Sour tonight,” Josie smiled. Though younger than Lakshmi by nearly three years, Josie felt like she’d taken the quiet, sheltered young woman under her wing in many ways. She was helping her blossom into a strong and confident person, no longer chained down by her conservative upbringing. Josie had taken her out on the town and allowed her to see a little more of the world. In return, Lakshmi had helped Josie grow and mature out of her own childish ways. Lakshmi was one of the first to treat her like an adult and respect her opinion instead of seeing her like the spoiled rich girl everyone thought she was. They were now good friends and they were helping each other become the leaders they would need to be. “You told me you needed a new dress to squeeze that grown-woman ass into tomorrow night, didn’t you?”

“I did, and - uh - I do,” Lakshmi smiled. She was looking forward to Friday’s grand-opening event, a party they’d be having in the new atrium, and she certainly did need something to wear. Her latest try-on attempts with what she already had in her closet had not gone well. Seams were torn, buttons popped. She was a ‘grown woman’ now, that was for sure. A growing woman, she thought, as she proudly felt her glutes beneath her. “Okay, yes, I need a dress.”

“Good. We’ll head to the mall, to Hera’s,” Josie said, glancing at the mug of what her friend had been drinking. It smelled good, like anise. She pulled out her own phone from her scrub pocket, checked her texts. Nothing interesting, just her mom. She put the phone face-down onto the table.

“So, how did study clinics go today?” Josie asked, “I missed it. Was over setting things up next door. Did you see Adrienne Aleppo?”

Josie knew Lakshmi really liked Adrienne Aleppo, and she sometimes couldn’t believe it herself: that this famous woman from many of the girls’ favorite shows was in their rinky-dink little clinic every week. Adrienne Aleppo was one of their study patients, coming into the office for her treatments. She was probably the biggest of a few minor celebrities that they saw regularly, and - though Josie herself was actually more impressed and enthralled by the several politicians that came to clinic - she knew Adrienne Aleppo left lots of the girls, Lakshmi included, feeling a little starstruck. How did she get time away from the Stinkers! house every week? Weren’t reality shows kinda strict that way? Whatever.

“Yes I did see her!” Lakshmi gushed, blushing again.

“Did you tell her we all watched this week’s episode?” Josie asked, indulgently.

“No, I did not,” Lakshmi replied, “but she told me all about it anyway.”

“She’s, like, ‘Queen of the House’ now, right?”

“Yeah, she is,” Lakshmi answered, suddenly leaning in closely across the table, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper and causing Josie to lean in as well, “Her boobs got really big.”

Josie laughed, and sat back up. “Oh my god Kiki why are you whispering? There’s no one here,” Josie giggled, “And, besides, big boobs aren’t really a secret any more.” Almost unconsciously, she felt herself sit up straighter, square her shoulders. Maybe she wasn’t as big as Shanette or Amelia or even Randi, but her own breasts had grown remarkably over these past couple months. They felt good on her chest, and she knew they were still growing.

“So who else did you see?” Josie asked. Having been out of clinic today made her miss some of the gossip many of the patients invariably came in with every week. She especially liked hearing about what Thalia Bates was doing with her father, and talking with some of the local businesswomen. She even liked chatting with Sheryl. “Ooo! I saw Rachel Keller!” Lakshmi offered brightly, “She is giving us all free memberships to her gym!”

“‘Big Body Gym’?” Josie asked, nodding, Josie really liked going to the gym these days, and many times went with Lakshmi to one of the corporate places near where they both lived. ‘Big Body Gym’, though, was closer to work, would be more convenient when they all moved in upstairs together, and was supposed to be one of the hot new places for girls who wanted to get big these days. And who didn’t want to get big? “That’s cool. Let’s go this weekend! You need bigger squat racks like they’ve got anyway.”

“Sure, yes,” Lakshmi continued, nodding, aware again of the massive mass of bulge and muscle upon which she now sat. She was proud of it; it had been growing nearly unchecked. “I also saw that Mary Jane person...”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Yeah,” Lakshmi said, pausing for a moment. It was sort of an unspoken thing, mostly, what was happening to some of the people on this new treatment, the turns some of their personalities had taken. “Vida asked me to set up a psych evaluation for her next week, with one of the new therapists.”

“Yeah,” Josie agreed, “There’s something going wrong with that girl.” She could think of a few other people that could do with some therapy. There were a lot of them, in fact, and not just the patients on Product, but some of her coworkers as well. Maybe haha we should do a group session. “Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

Lakshmi paused again, thoughtfully. “Weird that it is the last day we will have the study here,” she posited, “Next week it will be in the new offices?

“Yeah very fancy,” Josie agreed, “I was helping set up supplies in some of the new exam rooms today. They didn’t let me into the Evolution wing. I wonder what’s going on back in there?”

“I dunno,” Lakshmi answered, “maybe it is still just being worked on?”

“Could be,” Josie replied, “though most of the construction equipment, all those trucks, have moved over to the new building, across the parking lot.”

“Yeah,” offered Lakshmi. “Time is just moving so fast. Everything is changing.

“Sheryl bought the new place only a month or so ago, right? Are we expanding again soon?”

Lakshmi shrugged, sipped her tea.

“Well, with whatever they’re doing, she doesn’t waste any time, that's for sure.”

Both girls paused, now. Lakshmi sipped on her tea again, didn’t say anything.

“They don’t tell us much huh?” Josie concluded.

“Not really.”

“Hey has anyone found Cindi yet?”

The two commiserated on their lost co-worker, Cynthia. Last she’d been seen was…wait? When was that? There was that really grainy security footage of her trashing Dr. J’s apartment over the weekend, but when was she last in the office? Was it today? Last week? Was it really Cici? And where was she? Neither girl had any new information.

“Soooooo…” Josie asked her friend, looking to change the topic, “what were you watching when I came in?”

“Alicia Ray, the newslady from Channel 5 was in clinic today for her treatment,” Lakshmi answered, “and told me about what happened on The Kathleen O’Connor Show’ this afternoon. She sent me this cl-“

“Omigod yes!!” Josie exclaimed, “we were all watching it on the other side earlier. The ladies from Nexifem?? Did you see what they were able to do to that guy???”

“Yes oh my god,” Lakshmi gushed, feeling her thighs warm and once more again the heavy strength of her new weight, “That was…insane. What does it mean?”

“It means the new government is going to have to figure out what to do with it,” Josie answered, “it’s so wicked expensive now but it could, like, change everything.”

“I…I know,” Lakshmi said.

“Imagine what that guy felt like? What he was thinking?” Josie posited, feeling herself getting excited as well.

“Alicia Ray says she’s going to try to get an interview with him,” Lakshmi added.

“Omigod that’d be so cool.” TV was getting good these days, for sure, as programmers had begun to know what people really wanted. The idea of seeing Alicia Ray sitting next to that guy? Omigod. “Do you think that that could, like, happen to Dr. Jay?” Josie asked in a reverent tone, immediately taken by the thought.

“Oh no…could you just imagine?!” Lakshmi giggled lost in the moment.

“I can. All the things we could…Mellissa could do...do with him?”

Once more, Lakshmi had to pause and compose herself. She took a sip of her tea. “Know what else Alicia Ray asked me? If we knew anything about the news reports about those lawyers, that judge, the…murders last night.”

“Oh, uh, wow,” Josie answered, nodding. Her mind pulled away from Dr. J and started to race. Marisela. “Did Alicia know they’d all been here yesterday, those twerpy lawyers?”.

“I am not sure, I did not say anything,” Lakshmi replied. She leaned in again, and once more lowered her voice to a whisper. “It sounds like Marisela butchered them, Josie, in their homes.”

Yeah but didn’t they deserve it? Josie found herself thinking, surprising even herself. “W-were any of the guys married?” she asked, “Have families?”

“The old one, the judge was married,” Lakshmi answered, “Well, he was separated. They interviewed his wife on the news.”

“Oh wow, poor lady,” Josie offered, looking for some empathy inside herself…but finding something different.

“She did not seem too upset, as horrible as it looked like it was,” Lakshmi continued, “It sounded like he was abusive. She works at a nonprofit, a woman’s legal defense fund.”

“Are we going to, like, haha, need her services?”

“Do not joke about it I am worried,” Lakshmi said, “I actually talked to Marisela, just a little while ago.” She considered how she would say this. “So, the axe-throwing place we all went to last night?”

“Yeah that was fun.”

“Remember how Marisela snuck a couple axes into her bag?”

“Yeah?”

“An axe was found in one of the guys’ skulls, one of the lawyers’. It is in the police report.”

“Holy shit.”

“Yeah.”

“What did Marisela say?”

“She sounds a little nervous but she was also, like, laughing about it,” Lakshmi said. Both girls’ voices were now low. They knew the recording equipment in the room didn’t have the greatest audio. “I am a little worried about her. She…she is remembering her nights out more, and I think she is starting to…enjoy it.”

Oh my god tell me more, Josie found herself thinking.

“She described some horrible things, Josie,” Lakshmi continued, “she says she had the judge calling her by his wife’s name as she slowly disemboweled him.”

That sent a shiver down Josie’s spine and once again she found herself thinking surprising, and what should have been disturbing, thoughts: I wish I could have been there to watch.

“Her name, the wife’s name, was written on the wall in her husband’s blood,” Lakshmi explained, “They said that on TV, Alicia Ray told me.”

“Fuck. That’s kind of gruesome for the midday news, isn’t it?”

“Good ratings, Alicia said, anytime there is a new murder by The Harpy-”

“They’re still calling her that? Like some kind of serial killer?”

“....any time there is a new murder by The Harpy, everyone wants to see what she has done.”

“For real?!?” Josie blurted. Of course. People love their female-on-male violence these days. It was a dark thrill, popular with housewives looking for their ‘true crime’ fix. Especially, I guess, if there are private parts being ripped off, Scary-Mary’s calling card.

“Also,” Lakshmi added, “Alicia told me the afternoon replay of Melissa’s interview got them really good ratings too.”

Speaking of what people really want. “Oh yeah?” Josie asked. That interview was good stuff. She kinda wanted to watch it again herself.

“Yeah you should look,” Lakshmi continued, “It has caused another new surge in Melissa’s online followers.” At that, Lakshmi paused. “Melissa told me it makes her bigger. She says she has grown like a whole inch just since last night, since the interview first aired.”

“Jesus.”

“Language.”

“Sorry. But- a whole inch in a day? Isn’t she worried?”

“Worried? No. She says she wants to be seven feet tall by Thanksgiving.”

“Oh my…oh my god haha,” Josie laughed, “where’s she gonna find shoes?” She was, for what it was worth, trying to make a joke. But there was something stirred inside her that was making her cheeks flush. She wanted, in that moment, to see Melissa, to get on her knees in front of her. “I-is she still here?”

“No,” Lakshmi answered, “She just left. Needed to go to Evolution. She wanted to get back home to Dr. J.”

Okay that’s probably good. “Okay that’s probably good. Before Randi eats him alive.”

“Haha yes.”

“But…shoes. That reminds me,” Josie said, picking up her phone once again, “I have to pick up some shoes Melissa had ordered from Hera’s when we’re out tonight.”

“Yes she ordered some for me, too,” Lakshmi added, standing up with her mug and turning towards the breakroom’s mini-kitchen counter. “Hey do you want any of this tea? Katarina made a pot and it’s still warm…”

================================

#growingintothejob

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bewitchedme-body-and-soul · 2 years ago

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all sides of you

a/n: this came to me late at night and i had to write it; shout out to @humanalien01 for helping me and supporting my simping. idk how i feel abt the ending tbh :/

summary: a night at josies bar leads to you admitting your thoughts about the devil of hell's kitchen, and a few months later your words come back to haunt you.

word count:2427

warnings: swearing, canon typical violence, reader is victim in an attempted mugging & fights back, cursing, reader is called a bitch

Standing around the pool table at Josie's bar with the Nelson and Murdock team, playful banter spewn between the four of you. Each of you taking turns shooting while also trying to make the others mess up. The laughter coming from the four of you carrying throughout the bar, the three deserved this after a hard case, and you being Matt's partner were happily invited. Foggy happily uses you as a means to try to embarrass Matt with silly stories from their college years. You and Karen, doubling over in laughter as Foggy finishes his current story, Matt's cheeks tinted pink. Upon noticing you move closer to him, pressing a quick kiss against his cheek, then resting your head against his shoulder, his arm wrapping around your middle.

It's not until Foggy scoffs begrudgingly that your attention and Matts is pulled away to look at what Foggy's upset about. On one of the Tvs hanging around the bar you notice a news story about The Devil Of Hell's Kitchen. Foggy going on a rant about how he thought the man was bad news while you stared at the grainy footage someone caught of the man decked out in all black, as he beat up a group of gang members. You slowly zoned out as you watched how the man in the mask’s body contorted as he flipped and took the bad men out.

“Y/n!” Foggy's voice pulled you out of your daydream, your head snapping to look in his direction, giving him a hum in acknowledgement. “What do you think? What's your opinion on the masked man?” he asks, you know he's hoping you'll take his side.

Your cheeks tint a slight pink at the question, aware of the two pairs of eyes locked on you and Matt's head tilting, obviously also looking forward to your answer. “Um, i don't really have one” you lie, moving to lean over the pool table and shoot one of the balls. Karen's giggle goes in tandem with the clack of the cue ball hitting one of the stripped balls.

“You're lying!” Foggy calls out pointing an accusatory finger at you, “did you know lying is a sin? I can't believe you would do such a thing while dating our good Catholic Matt Murdock” he gasps a hand over his heart like you wounded him deeply with your tiny fib. The smile on Matt’s face tells you he did not care and he finds Foggy's dramatics hilarious.

“Oh no, however will you forgive me, my love?” you gasp dramatically leaning against Matt. “But seriously my opinion on the man in the mask isn't that important.” you say trying to move on.

Karen laughs before speaking “oh, trust me, too foggy it is very important, and honestly now I’m interested cause it's been just me vs foggy about this since Matt tries to stay out of these conversations” after she's done speaking the attention turns back to you. You sigh as Matt moves to take his turn, now seeing you have no way out of this conversation.

“I don't know, I don't think he has bad intentions or anything” you shrug before continuing “He’s also kinda hot” you say the second part quieter. The other three members of your party all have varying reactions, Karen laughing, Matt giving an awkward chuckle, and Foggy with his over the top dramatics acting as if you’ve insulted his mother. You watch Matt out of the corner of your eye worrying you may have upset him, you’d only been dating a month and a half, the relationship still new, you're still learning things about the other. What if you hurt him?

Foggy's voice pulls you out of your anxiety fueled downward spiral. “I can't believe you would do this to me” he speaks with a voice obviously trying to make you feel bad for not agreeing with him. He puts his head in his hand as he begins to fake cry. You and Karen look at each other before you both double over laughing, Matt joining in as Foggy's fake cries ramp up at your laughing.

You spend another few hours at Josies before you all decide to part ways, you going home with Matt after deciding to spend the night. Once you're in his apartment your anxiety returns from the prior conversation. You both make your way to his bedroom and change into clothes you can sleep in. It's only when you're both in bed, your head on his chest as he rubs your back, that you decide to broach the subject. “Hey Matty, can I ask you a question?” he hums in response. “Earlier at Josies, did I upset you?” you question, heart rate picking up slightly.

Matt feels your heart rate pick up so he quickly leans forward to kiss your forehead before he smiles at you with a soft chuckle, “no, not at all, I trust you, it’s no different than the people who have a crush on the avengers.” you sigh at his words. Anxiety subsiding, you know Matt well enough he wouldn’t lie to you about something like this. You nestle closer to him before grabbing his other hand and kissing his knuckles, ignoring the cracks and healed over abrasions. “Besides, I know I’m your favorite” he says and you don't need to look at him to know he's wearing that cocky grin of his.

You roll your eyes at him “i suppose” You tease him, no matter who came to you and professed their love, you knew you’d always choose Matt. You feel his chest vibrate under your cheek as he laughs. Eventually the two of you fall asleep in eachothers arms.

~~~

A month passes and you forget the aforementioned conversation ever happened. So many things happening that small moments get buried and forgotten about so easily. It's not till you're walking home one night that the conversation gets catapulted back to the forefront of your mind.

On your way home from a girl date with Karen you get yanked into an alley and thrown against one of the brick walls of a building. The bricks sharp and your head immediately begins to throb as your head smacks against it. A hand goes over your mouth and fight or flight takes over as you feel your heart rate pick up and the rush of adrenaline pumping through your veins. You struggle before biting down with all your might on the hand, the taste of copper coats your tongue. The man who grabbed you yanks his hand back and you spit the blood out onto his face before screaming, hoping you’d be lucky enough for someone to be close enough to hear you. You knew basic self defense but you’d rather be safe and hope someone would at least call emergency services.

“You bitch” the man yells before slapping you across the face. You bring your knee up in an attempt to connect it with his groin. His hand shoots down, your knee still connects but not with as much force as you hoped. As you attempt to shove him off you hear a thud to the side of you and you can only hope that it’s some good samaritan here to save you. It's only a few seconds later your attacker is yanked off of you and thrown to the ground.

You watch with bated breath as the man in the mask repeatedly punches the guy in the face and head. Once he finishes he makes his way over to you, you can hear him speaking to you, asking if you're alright, but you're distracted by the shape of his jaw and the way his lips move. A sense of familiarity washes over you and you're unsure as to why.

“I’m fine, thank you, I just need to get home.” You quickly rush out before speed walking away. Wanting to be in the safety of yours and Matt's home as quickly as possible, and wanting to scrub your mouth to rid it of the copper taste. A part of you hoping Matt is home so you can just crash into his arms and sleep.

You arrive home to an empty apartment, the billboard on the building across the alley lighting up the living room. You drop your jacket and bag on the counter before moving to the bathroom and brushing your teeth for far longer than the usual two minutes. Afterwards moving to your shared bedroom and changing into the clothes you'd be sleeping in.

As you're changing you spot a picture of you and Matt on top of your dresser. You pause, taking a moment to admire your partner, that's when it hits you. The sense of familiarity, why the bottom half of the devil of hell's kitchen face looked so familiar. You'd kissed those lips hundreds of times, it's no wonder your body recognized them. Everything begins falling into place in your head, like placing the last puzzle pieces in a puzzle and seeing the finale picture.

Matt's injuries always lined up with when you'd see the man in the mask on the new fighting bad guys. How a part of you always believed there was more to the story than him just falling or whatever excuse he’d give you. He was always so careful, far too careful to just take a tumble as often as he’d tell everyone. You never called him out cause even if a part of you believed he was lying you trusted him enough that you never questioned. Your thoughts are interrupted by the sound of the door opening and Matt's voice calling out for you.

“In the bedroom!” you call back, wondering if he’ll tell you or if you'd have to call him out and question him. You hear him approach and turn to look at him, he looks relatively unharmed, ‘that's good’ you think. “Hey baby.” you can't help the small smile that graces your features, he moves closer to where your voice came from, reaching a hand out towards you. Once he reaches you he wraps his arms around you pressing a kiss against the top of your head. You hear and feel him take a deep breath, you wouldn't be surprised if he was also a little shaken up, he’d just saved his partner from being mugged, you wouldn’t blame him if he was. The two of you sit in silence for a few minutes before you decide you can't take it anymore.

“Baby?” you begin, he hums in response. You take a deep breath before you continue, turning in his arms and wrapping your arms around his neck. “When were you gonna tell me?” you question, you figure it's best to just rip the bandaid off.

“Tell you what sweetheart?” he questions tilting his head, eyebrows furrowing. He looked like a puppy, confused by the trick its owner is trying to teach it. You understand why he’d try and play this off but you also wish he’d just be honest. Your face morphs into a deadpan expression.

“Matty, seriously, you know what I’m talking about.” You cross your arms over your chest. “When were you going to tell me youre daredevil?” you question. He huffs out a small laugh.

“What? Honey what are you talking about? I’m not the daredevil.” he lies through his teeth.

“I know you can’t see my face but just know it's a look of disappointment cause you should really be better at lying if you're gonna be a vigilante.” you speak before moving just out of matts reach. Deciding he could touch you again when he confessed. A defeated sigh leaves him, you assume he's come to the conclusion that there’s no way of getting out of this without being honest.

“I don't know, honestly.” he begins “I always wanted to tell you, I hated lying to you, especially after seeing how worried you’d get.” he takes his glasses off sitting them on your dresser. “I was waiting for the right moment I guess. I was worried how you’d react, I didn’t want to lose you.” he finishes looking in your direction. He looks like a puppy that just got scolded and was trying to look cute to get out of punishment.

“First of all, low blow, you know your puppy eyes work way too well on me” you speak trying not to giggle. “Second, Matt I’m literally so in love with you, it’d take a lot more than you running around at night in a mask beating up criminals to lose me.” Now the laugh escapes you, a smile making its way to his face as well at your laugh. He moves closer to you again, hands landing on your waist, before he leans in to kiss you.

“You handled this a lot better than Foggy did,” he laughs. “Also, if you were wondering, yes, i am actually blind”

“I wasn’t, but good to know.” you laugh “and to be fair, foggy did hate your alter ego.” you lean up to kiss his cheek, “lets go to bed baby” you whisper before crawling into your shared bed as he moves to change into pajamas. Once he joins you in the bed you snuggle into his arms, resting your head over his heart. Thinking over everything as you trace shapes against his chest, it’s then you sit up quickly realizing something. “You little shit!” you yell with a laugh as you playfully hit him in the chest.

“What? What’d I do?” he asks shock and confusion taking his features

“A few months ago, at Josies with Foggy and Karen” you begin, you can tell by the look his face morphs to that he's beginning to understand. His cocky smile finding his face again. “I confessed that I thought the daredevil was hot and you just let me?” you ask incredulously “no wonder you were so unphased by it” you playfully shove his shoulder

“Would it help if I said I found it very flattering that you did?” he laughed “but seriously, that was when I started seriously thinking about telling you. It made me feel a little bit better about it.” he speaks, moving his hand to rub against your knee.

“Maybe, it does a little,” you confess. “You're still a little shit though.” you laugh moving to kiss him. “My little shit though” you whisper. The rest of the night is spent full of soft touches and laughter as the two of you bask in your love of the other.

#they have bewitched me #daredevil x reader #daredevil imagine #matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock imagine #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock x original character #matt murdock x oc

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eddysocs · 1 month ago

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Bet On It — Hawkeye Pierce x OC

Summary: When Josie scoffs at one of Hawkeye's pranks, it starts a prank war between them that the whole camp starts putting money on.

Word Count: 1,355

Warnings: Just good ol’ fashioned tomfoolery

A Challenge Is Issued

As BJ flopped down on his bed, the tent was filled with the sound of a fart, and Hawkeye lost it, whooping and wailing with laughter as BJ ignored the silly little whoopee cushion prank, and Josie continued filing her nails as if it hadn’t happened, at least until Hawkeye quieted his riotous laughter. Only then did she give away how she felt about the childish move.

Hawkeye praised himself for a job well done, but Josie let out an audible scoff, loud enough to be heard over his self congratulations.

Hawkeye went quiet the moment he heard it and turned to her, eyebrows raised. "And what, pray tell, is that supposed to mean?"

"Come on. Where’s the creativity? The finesse?"

BJ grinned now, clearly enjoying where he suspected this was about to go. "She has a point. I was expecting more from the great Hawkeye Pierce."

"Excuse me, but who made you the arbiter of pranking genius," Hawkeye shot back, folding his arms.

Josie shrugged. "I’m just saying, for someone who’s supposed to be the prank king, this is pretty underwhelming."

Hawkeye straightened. "Oh, so you think you could do better?"

"Without breaking a sweat," Josie replied, a bit too smug for his liking.

BJ leaned back on his cot, his grin widening. "I think you’ve met your match, Hawk."

Hawkeye narrowed his eyes at Josie, his brain already working on a retort. Then, with a sly smile, he said, "Alright, Collins. Let’s see what you’ve got. Starting tomorrow, we’ll find out who the real prank master is."

Josie tilted her head, pretending to consider. "Fine," she agreed casually. "But don’t cry when I leave you in the dust."

"Oh, it’s on," Hawkeye replied, already cooking up some of his best prank ideas yet.

The War Begins

By sunrise, the 4077th was already buzzing with anticipation. News of the impending prank war had spread like wildfire, and the camp’s personnel began taking bets on who would come out on top. Klinger acted as the unofficial bookie, his clipboard overflowing with wagers.

"You’ve got this, Josie," Margaret Houlihan said, slipping Josie a confident nod as they passed in the mess tent. "Someone needs to knock Pierce off his high horse."

Josie grinned. "I’ll do my best, Major."

The first strike came during breakfast. Hawkeye had replaced the sugar in Josie’s coffee tin with salt. The moment she took a sip, her face twisted in revulsion. Across the room, Hawkeye doubled over in laughter.

"Well played," Josie admitted, setting the cup down and wiping her mouth. "But that’s just round one."

Later that day, Josie retaliated. While Hawkeye was preoccupied at lunch, Josie slipped out, donned a pair of surgical gloves and whipped up a homemade concoction of itching powder, rubbing it onto Hawkeye's soap.

She was back in the mess tent before Hawkeye finished eating, and she grinned to herself. He would be having a very unpleasant shower that evening, and she’d come out on top for the day.

As evening rolled around, Josie found out just how right she was. Hawkeye came out of the shower, towel around his waist and itching himself silly. "Collins," he bellowed. Josie didn’t even have to make an appearance, she simply sat in her tent and laughed. Round one was hers, and everyone knew it. Some more members of camp even started putting their money on her.

The Escalation

As the week progressed, the pranks became increasingly elaborate. By the end of the second day, the camp was in an uproar. Hawkeye had rigged Josie’s tent door with a bucket of water, drenching her as she stepped outside that morning.

Josie retaliated by filling Hawkeye’s boots with mashed potatoes. Determined to act unfazed, he wore them into the mess tent at dinner time, causing the place to erupt into laughter when he pulled out a spoon and started shoveling the potatoes out. Day two had gone in his favor.

But the stakes continued to rise. Josie replaced the gin in the Swamp’s still with water, much to the horror of both Hawkeye and BJ. Hawkeye countered by sewing the sleeves of Josie’s scrubs shut, leaving her fumbling for scissors before assisting with her next surgery.

The camp was in hysterics. Even Colonel Potter, who usually turned a blind eye to the unit’s antics, couldn’t hide his amusement. "This is the kind of nonsense that keeps morale up," he said to Radar, "but make sure those two stop by my office so they don’t get to taking it too far."

"You got it, sir!"

When the message got to the two of them that Potter wanted to see them, they thought their war was about to come to an early end, and so they resorted to swatting at each other and blaming the other for going too far and landing them in hot water.

As it happened, that wasn’t exactly the case. "I know you two think this is all in good fun," he said, "but if this war of yours interferes with patient care, you’ll both be scrubbing the latrines for a month."

"Yes, sir," Josie and Hawkeye said in unison, though neither had any intention of backing down.

The Big One

The turning point came on a humid Thursday afternoon after nearly a week's worth of pranks, big and small alike. Hawkeye had been unusually quiet the day before, which immediately put Josie on edge. She knew he must be planning something big.

The trap was sprung during lunch. As Josie sat down with her tray, the bench beneath her collapsed, sending her sprawling to the ground, her food on top of her. It may have been hardly edible, but she’d rather eat it than wear it. The mess tent broke out in laughter, with Hawkeye leading the charge. She’d have to be more careful if he planned on pulling anything else today.

"Nice try, Collins," he said, smirking like he’d won, as he offered her a hand.

Though she accepted his help up, Josie wasn’t defeated. That night, while the camp slept, she executed her coup de grâce, with a little help from Radar and cooperation from BJ.

When Hawkeye woke the next morning, he found himself surrounded by chickens. Dozens of them, clucking and flapping in the confined space of the Swamp. His cot, his belongings, even his beloved Hawaiian shirt were covered in feathers.

"Collins," he shouted, stumbling out of the tent, a particularly disgruntled hen nearly tripping him up as he did so.

Josie stood outside, arms crossed, a triumphant grin on her face. "What’s the matter, Pierce? You look a little…ruffled."

The camp was bursting at the seems with laughter this time, with Klinger nearly choking on his cigar as he counted the chickens as they poured out of the Swamp. How she’d managed to get a dozen of them in there was a feat not even he could imagine matching.

"That’s it," Hawkeye declared, raising his hands in surrender. "I concede. You win."

"Glad you see things my way," Josie replied, smirking as she walked away.

Aftermath

By nightfall, the prank war had become the stuff of legend, something the members of the 4077th would tell to their children years from now. Josie Collins was crowned the unofficial prank master, her victory celebrated with cheers and a round of drinks at Rosie's.

"Admit it," Josie said later that night, sitting with Hawkeye by the still, feathers still littering the Swamp. "You didn’t think I had it in me."

Hawkeye took a sip of his drink, a begrudging smile on his face. "I’ll admit, I underestimated you. But don’t get too comfortable, Pussycat. Next time, I’ll be ready."

"Next time?" Josie raised an eyebrow. "You’re a glutton for punishment, Hawk."

"Maybe," Hawkeye said with a grin. "But at least I have a worthy adversary."

Josie clinked her glass against his. "I’ll take that as a compliment."

As the moon rose over the 4077th, the two pranksters sat in companionable silence, plotting their next moves, because in the chaos of war, a little laughter went a long way.

Forever Tag: @baubeautyandthegeek, @kmc1989, @curious-kittens-ocs, @fanficanatic-tw, @gcthvile, @immyowndefender

#oc: josie collins #fc: farrah fawcett #fd: mash #josie x hawkeye #hawkeye pierce #hawkeye pierce x oc #mash #m*a*s*h

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anathemafiction · 2 years ago

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Jealousy — Part 2

Music plays in the air, and voices mingle with the big firepit burning in the center. The scent of cooking meat brings water to your mouth, and the light buzz of alcohol makes your head sway pleasantly. There's a warmth in your stomach, a silly smile on your lips, and you cannot, for the life of you, keep up with his fingers.

"There!" you yell and point at the back of one of the cards. "That's the one, I'm sure of it."

Vali, the rogue, smirks. "Are you sure?" he asks, his long blond hair catching the glow of the flames. He keeps it tied loosely to the back of his head. "I can do it again."

You narrow your eyes playfully at him. "I'm sure," you say, putting as much confidence in the tone as you can. You hit your palm on the table. "It's that one!"

Vali tuts. "I like my coin, but not like this. This is turning pitiful, you've already lost three silver." He lifts his eyebrows, giving you a charming smile to take the offense from the words. This is all for fun, of course. "Watch it one more time and then make your choice."

You laugh because you feel like it. "I know you're trying to get me to pick another because that's the right one.”

"That's a lie."

You laugh again. It feels so good to simply let go. "I've made my choice."

Vali sighs. "I really—"

"Just show the fuckin' card." His voice cuts through the air like a knife. It's flat, despite the heat of the words, and when you look at Rafael, he's glaring at Vali. Not that you're surprised, he has been scowling and frowning and glowering ever since your new friend approached your table. "Before I get a damn headache."

Vali, as the easy-going person he is, takes it in stride. He smiles at Rafael, who only scowls harder. "Very well, but I was just trying to protect your friend's interests."

Rafael scoffs. "Ya watchin' over someone's interests, alright."

"Raf!" you hiss, taken aback by his blatant hostility. You don't understand why he's behaving this way. He was in relatively high spirits when you came to the lodge, but now, he's ruing the game.

You wonder why he even bothers to sit here any longer, it's clear he's not having any sort of fun, but Rafael seems determined to not leave your table. He's just... this gloomy, sullen presence trying to bring the mood down. Well, you won't let him. "Just stop that."

Rafael's brown eyes shift to you.

(...)

"A name?" you repeat.

The woman nods. "Yeah. Look, it won't hurt, uh? What's the worst that could happen?"

And maybe it's because you're so frustrated, but you decide to give it a try. "Fine," you say, turning to face the horse again. She's a beautiful animal. Tall, strong legs, a long mane, and two eyes that shine with intelligence. "... Flora."

It's a goddess name, one of the forbidden ones. But the woman doesn't have to know that. No one does.

The woman puts her hands on her waist. "Go on, then. Call her."

She seems to be used to giving orders, and while the fact would normally annoy you, you can't help but... find it charming. She doesn't do it to be superior, you can tell. This is just a part of her personality. So, you do as she says. "Hey, Flora," you call. "Do you like that? Do you like the name, Flora?"

Flora shuffles her hooves, but after a beat, she neighs softly.

"Heh, I reckon she does," the woman says. She glances at you, then, and gives you a wide smile. "I'm Josie, by the way. Saw you struggling a bit. You don't mind me helping, do ya? Got nothing else to do, really."

She extends a hand.

You see a flash of movement from the corner of your eye. Turning your chin to the side, you cross eyes with Neia. The yellow burns brighter than the midday sun, piercing straight into you. She's leaning on her chair with her elbows on her knees, and her head pushed forward. Her jaw clenches tight, and she seems to dwarf the room as, even seated, Neia grows with each second.

You can tell she's displeased, but you turn your head away to smile at Josie. "I don't mind at all," you say and clasp her hand.

With Josie's help, it doesn't take long for Flora to calm down. You manage to step close to her, and then, following Josie's pointed instructions, Flora lets you strap the saddle to her back. "Ah!" you cry in triumph when you secure the last bolt. You shake Josie by the shoulders. "I did it!"

Josie laughs with gusto. "You sure did, lass. Now, go on, mount her." She takes your arm and spins you around, grabbing both sides of your waist.

You see another flash of movement from your periphery, but you don't care right now. Right now, you're high in the sky. Flora pounds her hooves anxiously, probably because of all the excitement, so you forcefully calm yourself down. Josie is a reassurance at your back as carefully, gradually, oh-so-slowly, you reach for the reins...

Neigh!!

Flora throws her head back, and Josie's hands tear from your waist. You spin around but are made speechless when you come face to face with Neia.

"Fuck out of here." Neia grabs Josie by the shoulder and roughly pushes her away from you. Josie stumbles, falling face-first on the sand. She springs up, and rounds back, her face contorted in anger, hands bawling, ready to—

She freezes.

Neia looms before her. The tall specter has her chin down, her lip twisted in a snarl and her broad shoulders cast a shadow over Josie.

Josie slowly closes her mouth. "I was just helping."

"Sure, you were," Neia growls, and jerks her chin to the exit. "I won't tell you to fuck off three times."

Josie looks at you and falters...

(...)

Someone told him, long before, that if you have nothing positive to say, then perhaps you should say nothing at all.

Lance likes that rule. He likes not saying anything at all, for it's rare for those who talk to listen, and Lance enjoys listening. There's no better grave than the one you dig for yourself, so why should he ever stop anyone from talking their way into their own hole?

Lance prefers to listen, but as of now, he's finding it hard to stay quiet.

There are very few positive things to say. The man's grip is wrong, his rhythm inconsistent, most of his notes are off-key, and Lance would bet his golden tooth that he hasn't bothered to tune his viola in at least a fortnight. The song filling the unfortunate walls of the common room is one full of mistakes and blunders, but worst yet, they are not missteps made out of boldness and passion. They are not creative, they are simply... terribly executed. An amateur, that man is, and yet, he introduced himself as an expert minstrel.

Lance's lips press on each other as another note makes him cringe. If one cannot find a single positive, one should remain silent. And he would. He will. Lance simply wonders why everyone else seems to miss the fact that the man on stage is a horrid player.

The tavern isn't full, but a good number of patrons pepper the tables. The big hearth burns, its crackling flames drowned by the shrill melody, and the barkeep is a voluptuous woman with red hair, a brown dress, and a cleavage that attracts the eyes. Not your eyes, however. Your eyes, to Lance's complete puzzlement, are set on the would-be-bard playing on top of a makeshift stage. Your table is the closest to it, and you sit with your chair dragged to the side so that you can fully face the stage.

You rest your chin on your palm, your lips are stuck in a smile that's so light, it radiates peace and softens your gaze, and your foot sways with the rhythm of the song.

The terrible, awful, song. And yet... you are enjoying it. They all seem to be. A man in the corner has his eyes closed and a blissful look on his face, while another group sways their heads as they speak with each other. For the old gods' sake, there are even a few coins on the hat placed at the man's feet and not just copper ones. Are they all deaf? He wouldn't care, really, Lance does not care...

But as the amateur— Lance refuses to think him a bard — makes a flourish, spinning on stage while the music gets to its grand terrible crescendo, your smile widens, and you clap your hands when, dramatically, the man stops, and bows.

"Thank you!" he shouts, and perhaps Lance is biased, but even his voice sounds wrong. He puts a hand to his chest while the other holds his viola high, waving it at the crowd. "Thank you so very much."

You clap a few more times, laughing with the others. Lance picks up his drink and drowns whatever it's inside, hoping to erase the sudden bitterness at the back of his tongue. His grey eyes are glued to you. It is over now, so, as painful as that was, he will finally have a respite. Perhaps Lance will venture to sit at your table, he'll only wait for—

The fake minstrel steps out of the stage, but instead of moving toward the bar, as he should, the man approaches your table. Lance puts the glass down as, immediately, he strains his earring, leaning forward on his chair.

But he shouldn't have bothered, for the man's baritone voice rings obnoxiously loud. "Good evening," he says, and then he bows. He keeps eye contact with you the whole time with a curling smile on his lips. "My name is Lucien, the Gifted, and I have to commend you."

That you didn't laugh at the pathetic name is bad enough. "Commend me?" you say instead. "What for? I should be the one commending you, Lucien, the Gifted."

Lucien shakes his head and reaches forward... to take hold of your hand. "No," he stage whispers. "You deserve all the credit. For all the years I've performed, never have I had a better audience."

You laugh, but it's not mocking. It is... amused. This cannot be. Surely, you have better taste. "I see you possess a silver tongue," you say coyly.

Lucien bends down and kisses your knuckles. "And you have immeasurably charm. I could write a song about you. I will!"

You laugh again.

Lance prefers to stay silent. He likes to observe. But he's pulled out of his chair by a force he cannot explain, and he's striding towards your table with a purpose he seldom felt before.

(...)

The Pirate King. He's slouched against the wall, one elbow propped casually on top of a shelf, hips cocked, and fingers idly playing with one of his axes. His severed thumb sweeps across the handle, shaped like a golden naked woman, and his canines flash from amidst the shadows. He's smirking, you can tell.

But you know from experience that usually signals danger.

If you could, you'd frown at him, but you can't, so you try to push the Pirate out of your mind and focus on George again. You're so close. "What haven't I heard?" you say in a light, breathy tone. You force another sultry smile and put your hand next to George's meaty one. He looks down and brushes your little finger, and it takes almost all of your willpower not to recoil. "But mostly, I've heard of your talent for acquisition. I was told you have interesting items. Items that..."

This is it. You pause and lick your lips, watching as George tracks the movement. You then go all in as you lightly drag your nails across his wrist. "You don't keep in the upper parts of the store, where the sun might reach, and wrong eyes might see them."

The Pirate's silhouette looms in the corner. You can feel his heat from the distance, his piercing gaze. You push him away again.

"If you'd be so kind as to show me your other merchandise," you whisper, leaning until you're practically lying on the counter. George's eyes go right where you want them to: the mounds of your cleavage. "I would be eternally grateful."

George seems stuck leering at your chest. Disgust once again curls in your stomach, but you wait in silence as he slowly lifts his fungi eyes again. His gums are red and bloodied as he licks his fat lips. "Gratitude is fine," George says, turning his enlarged fingers so he can latch onto your wrist. "But I want a little appreciation before."

He tugs on you, and you curse in your head. Lord's bloodied, fungi-invested fingernails!

"Pay me first, pretty thing, and then I might have something I can show you," he says, tugging you again, and you know then that it's all over.

From his corner, the Pirate moves. He swaggers closer, steps loose and unhurried with his axe hanging from one hand. He's smirking still. Smirking wide.

His eyes, however, are no longer on you.

"You damned fool, I tried to do this the easy way," you say to George with a disappointed sigh. You snatch your hand from his, shaking it as if to erase his touch.

George's eyes narrow. "What do ya—"

Crack!

The wood splinters open when a heavy axe cuts through it.

(...)

The entire pieces are available on Patreon!

Crossing the Line —The Pirate King & Neia

Upstaging — Lance & Rafael

#Most of these don't start at the beginning #Neia #Lance #Rafael #The Pirate King #Patreon #The Golden Rose

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bcolfanfic · 6 months ago

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spare...spare more details about young vets curt and ken becoming parents?

yesss. have been meaning to!

they both know somewhere in their heads that they want kids, but curt esp kinda talks himself in circles about it.

grew up in a very chaotic home with an abusive father and similar to gale he just has a lot of "what if i turn into my dad" anxiety

they go the surrogacy path and i don't think i ever actually pinned down *why* but. i think it would make sense if they had an almost-adoption fall through and were just...a little too rattled by all that to potentially put themselves through it again.

re: parentage they do the thing talked about in this article where they both ~donate~ and it'll work out however it works out. neither of them have super strong feelings about it either way so whatever happens happens (:

and it happens that (a) the embryo that ends up getting transferred is curt's bby and (b) it splits (: surprise twins (:

lmfao both boys about hit the floor when they get that news. curt goes full pale as a piece of paper mode and almost passes out and ken is just kinda. standing there in shock.

it's silly but i loveee the idea of them pulling something like in those viral videos from over the years ie not telling anyone outside of maybe curt's mom that its twins until the babies are born.

gale and bucky facetiming to see them and going gaga over curt w/ one lil baby but then oh hi ken- wait why do you have a baby too????

bucky lossesss his mind lmfao. in a very affectionate way but. can't belieb it. remembers all the shit him and curt got up to in tech school and when they were both enlisted and god now both of em have kids??? crazy stuff!

the girls are named meadow and bry/bryony. meadow after the sopranos (curt's choice) and bry to stay in line with the naturey theme (ken's choice)

by this point ken's kids soccer coaching thing manifested itself into a full time elementary/middle school athletics department job. so he does that, and curt still does the personal trainer thing but he works for himself so he can schedule around staying home with the girls when they're itty bitty.

was so scared shitless of being a dad after his own childhood, and hell after all his shit from the war too. which seeing john with josie and micah helped him push past in a lot of ways <3. because if john can overcome and be *such* a good dad, hey maybe i wouldn't be terrible at it.

but he loves those girls so so much. has a lot of moments just lookin at their lil faces and hearing them following him around the apartment and getting all (,: because he can't believe they're his.

meadow ends up verrry much like him and bry like ken. they try to put *both* girls in soccer when they're little which bry takes to like a fish to water. but meadow just kinda plops down in the grass and cries lmao. bless her heart.

they're both *such* good kids too which makes em laugh sometimes because curt was...a handful and a half to the extent that he was worried he might get some karma thrown his way for that.

his mama kinda ribs him about it and says the lord gave him a pass on that because he's been through enough.

well at least until meadow and croz's oldest boy jj get involved which causes soooo much drama but. that needs to be its own separate post. (tldr: she's a senior in college and he's 29 pushing 30 lmao it's only like an 8 year age gap and rationally perfectly fine, but curt as you can imagine is um. not of that mind at first lmfao jj run!!!)

ken is such a good dad too. never in a billion years imagined back when him and curt first got involved that *this* would be their life but he's so happy. is such a jabberbox when he first goes back to work tellin' everyone everything and showing them pictures.

#young vets au #mota fic #curt x ken #curtis biddick #curt biddick #ken lemmons

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shivunin · 10 months ago

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15 Lines of Dialogue

Rules: Share 15 or fewer lines of dialogue from an OC, ideally lines that capture the character/personality/vibe of the OC. Bonus points for just using the dialogue without other details about the scene, but you're free to include those as well!

Thank you so much for the tag @dreadfutures! I love this, and it's given me an excuse to comb back through Wander again c: This was honestly a really fun exercise because so much of character voice for me is carried by the context/narrative tone (and Emma especially writes a lot of letters in this fic, which aren't really dialogue).

So - for Emmaera Lavellan (Emma):

“We hear your concerns, ambassador. My advisor and I will discuss it at length, I assure you. Please, feel free to find either of us if you have concerns about the accommodations at Skyhold ahead of the fete.”

“It doesn’t feel like we do, Josie. We already saved the world. Why couldn’t that be enough?”

"When I’m sitting in those meetings, I think about all the ways I could get away from here without someone noticing. I think about climbing down from the tower, or hiding in the stables until night and taking the dracolisk out."

“Your new owner was a bad man,” she continued, “I’m sorry for that. But if you’ll let me help, I will make sure you’re cared for as long as you stay with me.”

"We didn’t have to put other faces on for each other–when we were alone, we spoke plainly and left behind the facades. So when I tell you he wasn’t the one who put the knife in my chest, believe me: It wasn’t him.”

“It had better be little. I’ve had enough parties in my honor to last a lifetime.”

"This woman would not know her Maker if he picked her up by the heel and shook her."

"I don’t know. Is there a problem? I’ve heard I can’t do anything myself. Seems like I should be no manner of threat at all to one such as you–who killed a single , individual Venatori three years ago."

"You once saw me throw a fireball into a dragon’s mouth while it had me between its teeth. I think I can manage to walk down a dirty street alone, missing arm or no."

“You’ll see. I’m just - not suited to lounging around this manor and hoping for the best. I have to do something. And if I have nothing to do here–”

“But it would look so dashing. Maybe I want it to heal crooked.”

"Silly choice of metals, gold. All soft and shiny. I’d rather a heart of iron or steel or–ooh, dragon bone would be fantastic. Very durable, dragon bone. Velvet, though–-that would be novel. A heart of velvet: prickly one way and soft the other. Uncomfortably warm in the summer. That fits much better.”

"If the choice was between forgiveness and moving on–what else could I choose?"

"He knows how to open doors. It hasn’t become a problem yet.”

"Even if you forget someday, this is yours to read as you wish. I thought you should have that, to decide for yourself what you want to know."

Tagging @greypetrel @inquisimer @nightwardenminthara @idolsgf @transprincecaspian @star--nymph @vakarians-babe and you!!

#tbh tempted to compile lists for the others but what i realized while doing this #is that emma talks a lot less than i realized #and that doing this for maria would probably be a nightmare lmao #because she talks so much #it would be hard to pare the list down #tag game #emmaera lavellan #emma talks most when she's mad and delirious is what i learned in this exercise haha

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anyamaris · 2 years ago

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Another Us

Genre-Angst

Summary-Just living your life with your bbfs and roommates, while going to beauty school, your past shows up to throw you off course.

Seonghwa!au x f!reader Angsty angst, past pain, slow burn AU Ateez

Word count-1800+

Warnings-Vulgar language, alcohol consumption, lots of angst.

Part 2

So-this is my first time writing anything on here, and it's been a while since I've written in general. I hope it's not a horrible read. I came to a stopping point I liked and wanted to post before I lost my nerve. I've been feeling the angst while listening to some music and my brain blew up.

Sort of inspired while listening to this song by Corbyn

I appreciate any feedback and guidance while I expose my scaredy heart to writing!

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"Are you into those?" you hear coming from behind your right ear, a short giggle following the comment. "Hmm...once upon a time." you just say, shaking your head softly. "They're kinda cool, but I can't imagine the patience it takes to put them together! Also, I'd TOTALLY lose pieces!" Your friend says, smiling. You smile lightly and nod, just staring at the display in the window in front of you.

Josie giggles again, but it sounds far away. You still can't look at Legos without thinking of another time, and the pain that comes with those memories. A frown tugs at your lips, thinking "Yeah, pain. Legos fucking hurt." but it's not the little plastic pieces digging into the back of your thighs that you're actually thinking about.

Dragging in a deep breath, you shake the thoughts off and turn to smile at your friend. "C'mon, let's go to that cool coffee shop now, I can SMELL the beans from here and I'm DYING". Josie laughs and grabs your hand, dragging you towards the food court. You let go of the thoughts of the past with one last glance before you smile and run with her.

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"What the actual FUCK?! REALLY?!" You glance up into the face of fury as plastic digs into your skin. Tears well in your eyes and a mild tinge of fear makes your cringe backwards at his red face, the pure hatred in his eyes. "I- I..." you stumble over your words, eyes darting around, looking anywhere but at HIM. "Hwa I-" you start but his sudden movement forward cuts you off. He bends down and starts picking up the small pieces around you, completely avoiding your face. "Don't." he mumbles next to you, making your breath catch and your heart ache.

"I want to -" "WELL I DON'T!" Seonghwa yells at you, standing up abruptly and throwing the pieces from his hand that he had been picking up. "WHY DO YOU RUIN EVERYTHING??" He yells, but his head is turned and he won't even look at you. You can feel your heart plummet as the words drip from his lips like venom.

You ruin everything.....ruin...everything....YOU. RUIN. EVERYT-

A gasp escapes your mouth as you suck in air, sitting up and looking around the dark room with wild eyes. You raise a hand to your heart, which is pounding, then your face, where you feel tears on your cheeks. "Ha..." you whisper. "Still gets me, even after 5 years. Fuck you, Park Seonghwa." You bare your teeth to the night, steeling yourself, as you've done so many times before. You've come a long way from the naïve, silly girl you used to be. Doesn't mean it still doesn't sting, like those fucking LEGOS, you think, a smirk on your lips. Oh well, looks like sleep is a far gone idea, time to get up and start the day.

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"PANCAKES!" You yell, expertly juggling cracking some eggs into a bowl, while putting out plates. You hear noises coming from the rooms behind you, feet slipping on the floor as you look over and one of your roommates slides into the opening behind you. His hair is a complete mess on his head, sticking out every which way. "P..pp..pancakes?!?! FOR ME?" he squeaks out, and rubs his hands together. 'Yes, San, pancakes, for EVERYONE, not just you." He pouts but then switches quickly into an adorable smile, his dimples making you sigh and smile. "TOO CUTE."

"Your cooking is the best." San mumbles between stuffing some bacon into his mouth and you rush over to hand him a napkin. "It's greasy, don't make a mess!" You scold him. "Yes MOM." he smirks at you and you just smile and turn back to what you were doing.

You hear more noises as your 2 other roommates emerge slowly from their rooms, the smell of cooking and coffee waking them up. Slowly but surely, the dreams from the night before become distant before they finally leave your mind for the day.

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"Work sucks", you hear behind you. Pulling off your glasses and rubbing your eyes, you smile warily at your coworker. "Woo, your job isn't even remotely bad." "Yeah yeah, it's just so HARD when all these women are just so into me. It's so tiring." Wooyoung whines, which makes you giggle. "Yeah tiring...I can tell from that smirk how 'tiring' it is to you." You snap back at him and laugh. "Well...I mean, I can't help it when I look like this." He pretends to flip his hair and you laugh again. "Just go .... do something besides bother me." You say, smiling at the ridiculous pout he gives you before he huffs and turns on his heel to walk back around the store. You look back down at the schedule you've been making for the week and hum along to the song playing on the stores speakers.

You've been working at the makeup store for less than a year but you're excited about the recent promotion. Despite still being technically part time, you get to do alot more of the managerial work like scheduling and computer work. It helps alot while you're going to beauty school. Plus, the additional discount. You bite your lip at the additional 10% off you get now, fantasies of MAC and Urban Decay palettes dancing in your head.

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"Hey! I know, you should let me make you over!" Woo yells as you lock the doors to the store and go over all the closing again in your head. "Wait, again? Why, you've done my makeup countless times. And my hair, pretty much everything." you say flippantly, your mind still in work mode. "Yeah but like..." he says, biting his lip. "I can come to your house and like..." his eyes light up, "THEN we can go out! YEAH!" his hands smack together and you can help but laugh at his energy. "YEAH! Let's go out! I can come over and I can pretty you up and and and...." the gleam in his eyes has you giggling. You know exactly why he wants to come to your place. "Hmmm..." you smirk at him, teasing. "HMM?!" He cries, dancing around you like a small child. "Fine fine, come over. I have nothing going on anyhow and we both have the next two days off." you says, pulling your keys out. "YES!" he pumps his arm and then threads it through yours. You smile again at him and pat his head as you both make your way to your car. It's gonna be a long night, you sigh in your head. But it's never a boring time with Woo and San around. Maybe your other two roommates might join you for once.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tossing your keys on the counter, you go to the fridge and grab a bottle of water, drinking and smiling as you hear the giggles and loud voices coming from your room. Those two....I swear. You wish they'd both just give in but at this point it's almost fun to watch them figure it out on their own. "You should grab happiness while you can, fuck the consequences" you whisper against the bottle opening. A small tug at your mind threatens to override that statement but you shake it off with a roll of your shoulders. 'OK BOYS! Make me look sexy and then let's tear up the town!" You smile as an answering cheer comes loudly from your room and head towards the chaos.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"So, how is it going with uhhh.." San asks while his leg is tapping in time to the music. He glances up at you as he takes a sip from his drink before his eyes dart over to the dance floor, for the 100th time that evening. "San, just go dance. Woo's been out there forever, why not go have fun?" His eyes dart back to you and he looks blinks for a moment before smiling and then taking another sip. "Nah, well, maybe in a bit. I wanna hear about....." he looks off and thinks again. "His name isn't important. Was just a silly crush." you state, switching topics quickly. "They make great drinks here!" you smile and he nods, his eyes drifting again. "UGH, just go DANCE, SAN, FOR GOODNESS SAKE-" You start and then you're whipped around and Josie in squealing and hopping up and down. "Oh my god, you scared the shit out of me!" you yell, getting up to dance around with her, happy to see your bestie. Your two roommates are right behind her, smiling. "Your makeup looks so good under this light, girl!" Josie turns you back and forth, admiring. "Thanks" you smile, shyly. You know you're not as good looking as her, but damn, Woo definitely made you feel like you can at least be called sorta pretty tonight. Though, the outfit is a different story, you think, pulling up the top to be more discreet. Your cleavage is a little too much. Outfits like this make you more hyper aware of your curves, and feeling slightly insecure. But San and Woo had hyped you up too much and it was way too late to change now.

Taking a sip of the liquid courage in your hand, you smile and stand a little taller. No bad thoughts tonight, just fun. "Mingi!" You smile, turning towards your two roommates to greet them. You hug him, your head coming to about his sternum and look up at him. "Y/n, dear god, warn a man!" He exclaims, putting his hand up to cover his view of your exposed skin. "Cute, act like you didn't look closely before 'pretending' to cover the view" Yunho laughs as he spins you into his arms for a hug. You smile as all your closest friends are around you and making you smile and laugh. It's a great end to a long ass week and you're living for it. Hell, you may even get the courage up to dance!

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"Hi! Can I get another rum and coke?" you ask the bartender, holding up your empty glass. You turn to scan the crowd as he nods and goes to make it for you. Smiling, you watch as Woo and San move together on the floor, sweaty and getting closer the longer the night goes on. Those two....you sigh as three women come over and get between them. "Not my problem," you mumble but cheer for them.

Shrugging, you go to turn around and catch your foot on the barstool behind you, throwing you off balance. "Woah there" you hear and a firm hand clasps your arm, steadying you. "Oh god, fuck-" you exclaim as your body stops moving and the momentary fear leaves as quickly as it came. Sighing with relief you turn and begin "Thank you, I-" then it hits you. That scent. "...I" but your brain won't process. "You're welcome, be more careful." you hear but your sight is black for a moment and you can't move. Before your senses can return, the stranger is turning and moving away. His scent lingering, and a warm feeling where his hand was. The back of his head giving nothing away besides the dark color of his hair while he walks away. It takes you a moment to realize the bartender is trying to call you and hand you your drink before you snap out of it and turn to take it.

In a daze, you walk back to your friends, shaking off the feeling of comfort, security and impending doom all in one fucking scent. "Nah." you think. Stopping for a moment, then smiling, with more conviction, "Nah!" Idiot, you think, that was another life. Another you. It's no longer who you are or where your head needs to be.

As you approach your table and your friends, you smile and join the conversation. Yunho exclaims, "Oh, everyone! I invited my friend to join us tonight. Let me introduce you-" But you stop hearing anything but the sound of rushing water overwhelming you as you look into the eyes of the one person in this world you've been running away from for years.

And he's staring back at you with those dark eyes, penetrating your soul.

"Seonghwa, these are my friends and roommates-"Yunho is speaking but as your eyes meet the newcomers, your brain is transported somewhere else. To another place.....

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"Hwa!" you smile as you both sit next to eachother, talking about the latest game you've been playing together. You can't help but stare at his profile, his beautiful eyelashes, that gorgeous sculpted nose, those beautiful lips. "Y/n? Helloooo?" You snap out of it at the sound of his deep voice and light chuckle as his hand waves in front of your face. What if I tell him....? You think. Maybe he feels the same? You open your mouth and-

"YOU RUIN EVERYTHING!"

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Your gaze clears as you bring yourself back to reality, smiling softly and nodding to him. "Nice to meet you, Seonghwa." You say in a deadpan, the only thing betraying you a mild twitch of your lip into a sneer. His eyebrow quirks as he realizes you're going to play that game and nods.

Now to figure out how to get through this night with this man.

The man who ruined you.

@shinestarhwaa @veronicasawyerschainsaw

#seonghwa!angst #ateez au #seonghwa au #mingi au #wooyoung au #san au #yunho au #yeosang au

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fantasies-fairytales-n-fics · 1 year ago

Text

Thranduil and Josie Pt. 165- The Ghost of Christmas Past

Summary: While out cold on the Dorwinion castle floor, Josie dreams or "hallucinates" of last Christmas Eve when she was being held captive by her ex-boyfriend Peter in his remote cabin, deep in the woodlands just North of the Grey Mountains. A strange object is believed to hold magic. Clues blatantly dance like sugar plums through Josie's head but will she remember the trauma blocked memories when she awakens from her nightmare? Legolas and Lola throw words over Josie. Josie asks something critical of the Prince. Lola searches for someone unexpected.

*Warnings* NSFW-DARK.... with mentions of drugs, emotional abuse, angst, violence, strong language, sexual language and abuse, alcohol use

Chapter characters: Josie, Peter, Thranduil, Legolas, Lola

Chapter word count: 5,593

Stories Stories Stories Masterlist:

'Twas the night before Christmas and all through house, not a creature was stirring....except you as you paced about the living room of the secluded cabin, nestled in the middle of a desolate never ending forest. The cabin that your abusive, narcissistic and sadistic ex-boyfriend Peter was keeping you prisoner in and torturing you daily while doing so. You had been inside the wooden box for so long that you stopped counting the days and no one had come for you. How could anyone find you when you didn't even know where you were? One moment, you had been in a northern New Zealand bar and the next, you awoke in the back seat of Peter's car, bound, gagged and disoriented from being drugged.

You momentarily paused your tears and erratic steps to gaze out the window at the winter wonderland. The same window you've stared out of a gazillion times, imagining a beautiful blonde King on a great white horse riding down to free you from the evil clutches of the dragon you called Peter and slaying him with his mighty sword, then whisking you away to his castle in the heavens to live happily ever after...but he never came. It was just a dumb song anyways, that you listened to as a kid when you believed in magic.

Your tears softly free fell like the sparkling snow before you as you fogged up the glass with your hot breath, then drew a heart and whispered into it, the words you had pointlessly recited every single night.

"My King, take me away from this awful place."

The slamming of the backdoor put a startling stop to your silly pleas and in stomped Peter, ridding the wet snow from his coat and muddied boots all over the floor that he would soon make you clean up.

"Baby it's cold outside!" the tall, dark and handsome monster bellowed with a grin that you wanted to smack right off of his prickly bearded face, the beard that tore your neck up every time he ravaged you.

"I never would have guessed." you quietly riposted and went to get a mop before he ordered you to do it.

"Bitchy again. That time of the month eh? Well, I've got a box full of old treasures here that I snagged at a thrift shop. I thought since it's Christmas Eve, I'd get you something since you like that kind of crap, so a little thanks would be nice because you certainly don't deserve any of it with that mouth of yours. Women should be seen and not heard, except for the moaning of being fucked good and hard."

With your back turned to him, you rolled your tear ridden eyes. Good and hard. The only correct part about that was hard. The narcissistic creep didn't know how to be gentle in any way.

"What was that Josephine?? I can't hear you!" he snarled as he dropped the box on the coffee table in front of you, making you jump.

"Th..thanks." you swiftly mumbled as you flinched in fear of getting smacked.

"Thata girl. You wouldn't want to spend the holiday with a fat lip now. So where's dinner? I'm starving after that long ass trip."

"There's stew in the pot over the fireplace. It's all we had."

"I brought more food. It's on the back of the snowmobile. Go get it. Oh..and Josephine??" he smugly toyed while holding up the keys and jingling them. "Just in case you got any stupid ideas of taking off."

"Peter...I've been here for..I don't even know how long and I know you keep all the keys on you. You remind me every single day."

"Well, I have to because I know that every single day, the wheels are turning in your simple little mind, trying to find a way to leave me and that...will never happen. I told you that back home when you foolishly tried to leave before. I always find you. There is nothing out there for miles. That is why we are here. No one is coming and you know I'm right, don't you Josephine??"

"Y...yes Peter. You're always right."

"I don't like your tone. How many times do I have to explain it so you get it through your fucking fairy tale little head? There's nothing to the North for over a hundred kilometers and the East, West and South are nothing but mountains, rivers and woodlands. I've told you, if you want to go, go...but you know you'll never survive. All alone, in the dark, in the freezing cold, no food, no shelter, just turned 24 years old and you have absolutely no survival instincts or skills since you grew up sheltered from the world, moving from place to place every few months...and lets not forget about...the wolves."

And now you were sheltered again. And The wolves. You heard them howling every single night. It was just another reminder, besides the recurrence of the real big bad wolf rubbing it in your face, that you were trapped.

"You have everything you need here. Food, heat, electricity thanks to a very expensive generator, and most importantly...me. What do you have back there?? Nothing and no one. Your mom is dead, your dad is dead. You have no friends or other family. You have no money. All that you own is a bag of shit I brought with us that you already had packed when you tried to leave me that day. Everything else you have, I gave you. I own it. I own you."

You did have everything...except what you truly needed and wanted. Love. But you did have money. Lots of it that your dad left you in his will. But what good did it do you now? You were probably presumed dead anyways, if anyone even noticed you were gone. Peter was right. You had no one anymore but him.

You didn't want to hear his cruel rantings anymore, so you put on your coat and boots and went out to get the food.

Brushing the snow from the seat of the snowmobile, you sat down and gazed up at the full moon of the winter solstice, wondering if there was another like you, gazing into it too, wishing for things you wished for, searching for shooting stars to make those wishes upon. The last time you saw one was on your recent birthday, but that was two weeks ago, so now all you had to rely on was the moon and each unique and perfectly crafted snowflake that fell into your hand as you held it out, sobbing.

Although your faith in fairy tales was diminishing, the things that were real, you could not deny, such as the wicked effects of the Mercury retrograde that began on the 13th, just before the solstice and would last another week into the new year of 2022. Your life was already shit before it began, but it only seemed to make things worse. You could feel it through Peter's actions, the way it made someone dark even darker and nothing would change when it passed. This would continue to be your hell.

Sobbing harder, you quietly cried out. "Please help me. Someone."

Everything was so deafening outside, for the blanket of snow on the ground always absorbed sound which created a calming silence. There was no wind or breeze of any kind either in that moment and then...a cool whisp of air puffed softly over you, carrying the fragrance of lilacs, a scent you would never forget for they were flowers your mother loved.

For a moment, you smiled, believing it was her...her spirit, watching over you until you heard a man's voice and it certainly wasn't Peter's. The voice seemed to also carry in the breeze and it was deep and alluring, yet soft and loving...and filled with desperate concern.

"Who are you? Where are you?"

You gasped and flung off the snowmobile so fast as if it were on fire.

"Hello?? Wh..who's there??"

Seconds went by as your eyes darted about the darkness inside the trees and then all was quiet once more.

"Josephine!! Get your ass in here! I want my bottle of whiskey!" Peter shouted as he banged on the back porch window, glaring at you.

With great hesitance, still staring out into the nothingness, you grabbed the bag of goods and scuffled back inside, glancing back on the way with every two steps you took.

As Peter devoured his stew like the slob he was and slurped on his liquid fire, you sat on the couch, sipping wine in a state of befuddlement. Had you really heard someone? Or was your mind going into some kind of survival mode to protect your sanity, making you believe there was hope? Was it the retrograde or was your mind just completely breaking? Surely that had to be it. You were just flat out losing your mind. For one thing, how could you smell lilacs in the dead of winter?

Peter finished off most of the stew and then plopped in a chair by the fireplace and began his nightly regimen of getting sauced, but not enough to where you could ever take the keys from him. He was quite smart as most psychopaths were. The only way you would ever get them was from his cold dead body and you knew you didn't have the stomach to kill someone, not even him. It didn't mean you didn't wish him dead though. Maybe choke on a chunk of the deer meat in the stew from the deer he killed, slip in the shower or fall down the basement stairs. You've imagined all kinds of scenarios with you standing over him, watching him take his last breaths. Did that make you a bad person after all he had done to you in the past 4 years?

"You gonna open your gift or what?" he snapped.

You wanted nothing from him and would much rather throw the box in the fireplace....or at his smug ass face.

"It's..it's not Christmas day yet."

"Just open the fucking box Josephine! Your lack of appreciation really pisses me off."

Picking the box up, you fretted about what you would find, for his gifts were never thoughtful and usually just junk. and that's exactly what it was as you pulled out the first item.

Cheap cosmetic jewelry that maybe a 5 year old would wear for dress up. Honestly, you didn't think anyone would wear it and that's probably why it was in a thrift shop. Next...another pair of gawdy high heels which he bought only for his own fetish. You despised high heels and he was why. Then there was a long white dress, which at the time you had no clue would be the one you wore when you finally escaped 4 months later and the high heels would aid you in that feat.

The next two items were decent at least. Another fantasy book and a classic cassette tape that you could play on an old 80's boombox you had in the bedroom. You didn't know the artist or genre, but to you, music was music when you had none, for you couldn't pick up any radio stations out in timbuk-fucking-tu. Anything was better to listen to besides silence or the cringing sound of Peter's voice.

Lastly...you pulled out an object at least two foot tall that was heavy and wrapped in burlap.

"Thought you'd really like that one since you're into all that fantasy bullshit. It's supposed to be magical or some shit. That's what the lady said anyways. I don't think she was all there, if you know what I mean. She reminded me of one of those chicks that look like they're into that creepy voodoo shit or what not...a gypsy or some fortune teller maybe? Said it grants wishes."

"Well, than why would you give it to me? You know what I will wish for."

"Because you know I don't believe in all that hocus pocus hogwash! You're not going anywhere Josephine. Deal with it and just open the damn thing already."

Upon unraveling the string and removing the burlap, your eyes widened as you were now holding a realistic porcelain sculpture of...a male elf?? Not any ordinary elf though like one of Santa's helpers with striped tights and hats and shoes with bells on them. This one was of majestic youthful beauty and superior elegance, an Elvenking of royalty maybe? A King in all the ways you had always envisioned and dreamt of one to be, whether human or immortal, for he wore a crown of twigs and berries over his long, sleek platinum strands that hung perfectly straight over his broad and sturdy shoulders clear down to his abdomen. A high standing collar wrapped around his thick, elongated neck that was accentuated by a black blizzard stone, set inside metal prongs that reminded you of spider legs and it was centered and pinned just under his captivating clavicle at the V shaped opening. Crystals were something you knew well because of your mother's massive collection. This one in particular, also known as merlinite, was a very rare and powerful crystal. It was said to hold a strong connection to the earth that gave it grounding energy and also helped to give healing strength.

Down his slender body, ran a form fitting robe of shimmering silver and placed underneath him was a blood red outer robe that you could tell was twice his lofty height as it draped over his forearms and flowed around his feet in a swirling pool of scarlet satin. You guessed the beautiful giant to have stood well over 6 foot tall and to be highly resilient, vigorous, stealthy and agile.

The way he was prestigiously positioned on the tree carved throne with enormous elk-like antlers sprawling out behind his head, spoke of a highest stature that cautioned of puissant power and dominance. His head was held high, angled to the side with fierce confidence and noticeable arrogance. One knee was crossed over the other, revealing his grey leggings where his robe parted below the waist and one arm was relaxed on the limb rest as his hand slouched freely off the end. His other hand gripped a very tall wooden staff of twisted oak that was crowned by a peach sized and shaped amber jewel on the top, snuggly nestled inside a lattice of silver vines. Baltic gold the gem was sometimes referred to. It was made from tree resin and preserved for millions of years and would turn to stone. Just how old was this Ellon supposed to be?

Your perplexed eyes then traveled right back to his glamorous face because their was some kind of undeniable magnetic pull to this mystical being of defined glass. His skin was of flawless ivory and delicate as the porcelain the figurine was made out of. Like his body, his nose was long and lean, sloping down in to a softly pointed tip while his pronounced ears raised up in to stronger points. His supple lips were heart shaped and pouted ever so perfectly over a very compelling jawline. Even his Adam's apple was intriguingly and audaciously apparent.

Whomever created the sculpted masterpiece from clay with their bare hands was highly skilled and deeply invested in it. The artistry was of such detailed precision, right down to his crystalline eyes of the moon that your boring olive orbs were helplessly lost inside of and desperately trying to read. There were multiple rings upon his pampered fingers with one in particular standing out upon his left forefinger, a sizeable moonstone that resembled the icy blue hues of his eyes, eyes that drew you right in against your will as you began to understand them, ageless eyes that held presiding pain and darkness as if they had seen an eternity of hatred, fire, war and death, yet love and light, loyalty, wisdom and knowledge dwelled within them in competition with the evil and sheltered over those lonely soulful eyes were the boldest of brows, black as his knee high boots.

You also were now highly invested in the art piece. What was something like that doing in a thrift shop? Did the piece have a name? You wanted, needed to know more, so you carefully turned it over to see if there was any information on the bottom.

Gúl -o Aran Thranduil. Ech- a ithil sarn iest no i clair de lune was carved on it and nothing more.

"Clair de lune. I know and love the song. It's French for Moonlight...but the rest of these words, what language is that?" you whispered aloud with furrowed brows as you ran your finger softly over the grooves of the letters.

"What does it say?" Peter curiously answered your question with a question and a hiccup.

"If I knew that, I wouldn't be asking. It's not English and I don't know how to pronounce any of it."

Peter took a hefty swig from his bottle and then chortled. "It probably says made in China."

Asshat, you thought. It wasn't any language you had ever seen and from all the fantasy books you have read, you guessed it to be from long ago...medieval era?? No...it had to be even older and you desperately wanted to decode it.

"Well why don't you put that pointy eared princess on the shelf...right there, in the window and make your stupid wish. I'll even entertain you and make one too." he barked, then got up, ripped it from your hand and sat it down on the wooden sill so hard, you swore it would shatter...and it should have, but it didn't. The elf sat chip free under the rays of the moonlight shining in from the window, his eyes sparkling in it as they looked right at you.

"I...I..I don't want to." you stammered as you began to tremble, knowing the whiskey was kicking in and Peter would become meaner than when he was when sober.

Here he came, storming at you, grabbing a clenched fistful of your hair at the scalp and dragging you to the window, stumbling, screaming and sobbing.

"Now. I'm going to make my pointless wish at this sexy elf on the shelf and then so will you! I can't say I wasted my money on it because it was free, some horseshit that freak at the store told me, saying the price tag is in the wishes, SO why not?...here goes nothing!"

"No, wait!...I....I changed my mind. I..I want to go first....please."

You never believed in this stuff, even though your mother and Sarah did. You and Sarah argued about it all the time and eventually, you just humored her and played along with the tarot cards and seance's for fun, but right then...you were willing to believe and be daring and brave, knowing what the consequences of your actions, or words you should say, would be after you blurted them out, and not by the price tag of karma, but by Peter.

"Alright. Go." he sarcastically agreed and pushed your head forward as he released your hair.

Your pent up anger rolled into rage and out of your mouth, as you stared into the elf's moonlit eyes, spewed words you had been aching to say out loud....and you knew, this night, you could die for it.

"My King, I wish for you to take me away from this awful place! And for all the times Peter has tortured me with spiders, I wish he would be dragged off by the Queen of all spiders, bloodied and screaming, deep into her dark cave and ripped limb from limb, leaving him alive long enough with his disgusting head attached to his torso so he can watch a dozen more spiders come and feast on the pieces and then I wish the Queen would drag his dismembered remains to her lair and spin him up in her web so he can be tortured for days, screaming in the dark as she snacks on him till his death!!"

Peter's eyes gaped as he gulped and then the rage that you knew would come...came.

"Brava!!" he shouted in a fury, clapping his hands as the Italian in him came out. "Tell me how you really feel Josephine! Well guess what? I wish that I will come back from the dead and haunt and torture you for the rest of your life!... Although that may not be very long..." he snarled and head butted you.

Down you went, to your hands and knees, stunned and almost blind as he knelt down and growled right in your face.

"There's no King coming! The only thing that's coming for you is my cock fucking you to death."

Peter grabbed the statue and hit you in the head once more, knocking you to your back, barely conscious and then he hoisted you up over his shoulder and carried you off into the bedroom, where for over an hour, he roughed you up... before, during and after having his forced way with you....and it was after this night that Peter began drugging you because the sadist realized the sex was much easier when you were practically limp and couldn't fight or talk back.

Crawling in tears of pain from the bed to the floor to find your clothes, you passed out and later awoke on Christmas morning with the sun blazing over your face and throbbing head, instantly crying once again from the pain, mostly below your waist and from also realizing you were still alive.

You stumbled in agony to your feet and gazed out the window to see the sun had melted most of the snow and the car was gone. What time was it??

After wrapping a robe around you, you crept out to the kitchen and sighed in relief when you saw Peter's coat and boots were gone too and you knew it was so the coward wouldn't have to look at you after what he did.

Knowing that you had a good amount of time to yourself, you showered, dressed, ate a donut and then remembered the elf figurine.

Gasping, you quickly hobbled to the living room to find it and sure enough, it was gone. It was real, wasn't it?? You couldn't have dreamed all of that, considering the huge knot on the side of your head from where Peter struck you with it.

You frantically began searching every corner of the cabin, even the basement that you dreaded going down to, but you came up empty handed. The creep had taken it after you wished him dead, you just knew it.

Crying ONCE AGAIN, you went back to your room and threw yourself on the bed, instantly regretting it as intense pain shot through every inch of you. As you laid there, sniffling in your snot, your eyes found the floor board where you had hid something special to you because you knew Peter would take it just as he had taken the statue. Luckily, he had never went through your bag that he had brought there when he kidnapped you, the bag you had pre-packed when you were going to leave him.

Slowly making your wincing way to the floor, you pried it open and pulled out the wooden box buried within the wooden box you were buried in. As you opened it, you smiled and sobbed some more to see the three items that belonged to Sarah, your best friend and neighbor who had disappeared into thin air on Halloween night 8 years ago.

Inside were her deck of tarot cards, a photo of the both of you, happy and twinning it at 14 years old, for you were both the same age, and her special ring, a silver ribbon ring she always wore, claiming it warded off magic spells placed upon the one who wore it. The day after she had vanished, her mother Jocelyn did too and you never saw her or Sarah again.

One night, after your sick father had fallen asleep, you snuck into their house through an unlocked window and went up to Sarah's room. That's when you found what looked like a shattered figurine all over the floor and in the shards, laid her ring. You had placed it inside her box on the dresser that had the photo and cards in it and took it for special keeping for when she came back, because you always believed she would....but she never did, nor did her mom. What you didn't know was of the special compartment the box held on the bottom and what was inside of it...until now.

As you were attempting to place the box back inside the floor board, your dropped it and the bottom popped open and out fell a beautiful amethyst pendant.

"What the??" you whispered and held it up by the chain, gazing into the purple crystal that had swirls of white clouds inside of it.

"Why would she hide it??" you asked yourself, completely and utterly confused.

You had never seen it before and she had shared everything with you. It must have been something of great importance, you figured. Maybe something personal or sentimental that she didn't want to share with anyone, not even you.

You stuffed it back in it's hiding place and the box too, then you decided to go outside for some sunlight and fresh air while you had the chance, and you took with you the battery powered boombox and cassette tape Peter had brought back to see what kind of music was on it.

Sitting on the picnic table out back, you slid the tape in and pushed play. The music began and it appeared to be some kind of country, bluegrassy, Irishy mix. It was all you had so it would have to do.

About 5 songs in and two glasses of Peter's whiskey drank down to help wash away your pain, you were completely caught off guard when a song came on that you knew. The same song you recalled the night before as you stared hopelessly out the window, dreaming of a King on a great white horse, for that was the name of the song.

You had sang it a lot as a child. Your mother was always singing it and it had stayed with you all through the years until now, but for it to just randomly pop up after you thought of it the night before, and after the wish you made to the porcelain elf, it was just too odd and it was all just too much.

"Why???? Why is this happening to me????.....Is anybody out there??!!" you screamed, so loud it burned your throat and then broke down into hysterical, uncontrollable sobs and blubbered the words as you tried to sing along.

"When I was a young girl I used to dream of a lover, to be my shining knight of strength one day. He'd carry me to a castle in the heavens and battle all my dragons on the way. And he'd ride down on a great white horse. He'd bring me love I was longing for. He'd bring me joy and everlasting peace and on a great white horse, he'd ride away with me."

"Josephine..." you heard in the wind and jumped to your wobbly feet.

"Josie! Josie...wake up!" you then heard, a voice echoing in your head. Legolas' sweet elven voice.

Was he really there or were you hearing him in your head again? You couldn't open your eyes, only mumble his name and when you did, you then felt yourself floating as Legolas lifted you from the cold stone floor...just like the night Thranduil found you in a similar state on the cold forest floor and carried you.

"Legolas?? What happened to her??" Lola frantically asked as the Prince gently laid you upon your bed.

"I do not know. Quickly, bring the healing water. Her skin is like fire."

Lola did as he asked and when she returned, she momentarily froze in her tracks with a hard dose of reality. Legolas was holding one of your hands and caressing your cheek with his other and the way he was looking at you spoke volumes of his undying love. It was as if no one else existed but you and Legolas proved it only seconds later.

"Legolas? I have the water and a cloth."

The worried and suddenly deaf elf did not hear a word Lola said as he continued stroking your cheek with a stare lost upon you.

"Legolas?? The water???"

"Huh?" he gasped and glanced at her and then took his eyes back to you.

"Would you rather I pat her with it so you do not have to remove your hands and eyes?"

Legolas certainly heard that. "I will tend to the Queen. You tend to the child as it is your duty is it not?" he snapped as held his hands out.

His words were cold and biting and Lola's eyes began to sting as she handed him the pitcher and cloth. She could hold her tongue no longer when Legolas aggressively took it from her.

"And you are appointed Josie's keeper? By whom? I am quite capable of looking after her as well as my DUTY of caring for Leean. I do believe the Queen has hired me, not you. I am the one who has always done it, never leaving her side, as you so easily did when she needed you."

Legolas' lips pursed as he turned to the bitter face matching the bitter words.

"By my father's rule...which... that is what he would wish, for she is his Queen and that makes her my Queen! And whom are you to speak to me that way, or to speak anything at all of the situation? I am Leeanduil's brother and godfather. I do not require employment or authority to care for either of them. You are merely nothing more than a servant and should mind your place and tongue if you wish to continue your duties as such."

"You did not seem to view me as merely a servant when your lips neared mine this evening! And now you threaten to remove me of my duties? And whom are YOU to do so? Josie retained my services, not you."

In a spitting image of his father, Legolas rose to his feet with rage and flared nostrils.

"I am the King! That is who I am to do so! Dare you ever question me again girl and consequences shall be suffered! Your jealous tirade is unwarranted and inappropriate and.."

"Leggy?" you grumbled as your eyes began to flutter.

His head whipped right to you as he immediately sat back at your side, abandoning the conversation with Lola...and Lola herself and continued to dab the wet cloth over your forehead which only infuriated her more.

"You are not MY King!" she barked, not caring if you heard her. "Lord Narcisse is and this is his castle. By all means, continue to pine for what shall never be yours while she pines for the one she truly loves. Unless you are a vampire named Garrett, which you most certainly are not, then it is you that shall suffer. I will leave you now to do MY duties."

Lola stormed out of the room in tears and the slamming of the door fully awoke both you and Leean.

"Yes, it is I my lady. I am here. I have not left you and I will never again."

"Leg...gy...my..my dream...I..I remember someth...." you paused with a flinched face as you noticed he was holding your injured hand a bit too tightly. "Owww!!"

"My lady?? What ails you?? Your hand?"

"Y..yes...it.."

Legolas' gasp cut you off. "It is bleeding clean through your glove!"

He carefully removed the lace covering and unraveled the makeshift bandage you had applied.

"Josie. This needs sewn up. Do not move while I locate a healer."

"NO!! Don't leave me! You said you wouldn't! I..I want you to do it. There is a thread and needle in the vanity drawer. The healing water will sterilize it."

"You...want me...a non healer...to stick a threaded needle through the tender skin of your palm??"

"Yes. I don't trust anyone here anymore. Give yourself more credit Legolas Greenleaf. Believe in yourself as I do."

He smiled at your kind words, but then frowned. "But..we have no pain reliever."

"Yes we do...hand me that carafe of wine. I will drink it down while you thread the needle."

The Prince's eyes gaped and then reluctantly did as you asked and while this was happening, Lola stood outside Narcisse's chamber door in full blown tears and sobs, vigorously knocking and receiving no answer.

"Daddy! Where are you??"

@redeemer46

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contreparry · 9 months ago

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happy dadwc friday! a prompt for you: ❝ i know i can’t protect you from everything, but i wish you’d let me protect you from the things i can control. ❞

Here's some Leliana/Josephine for @dadrunkwriting!

Leliana knew how to confront an enemy. One did so carefully. One gathered their information. One verified what they had. One blocked all avenues of escape. And then- and then came the confrontation, be it words, steel, or a combination of the two, until all was settled and accounted for.

Oh, and then there was the clean-up, but that was only to be expected. But Leliana knew how to confront an enemy. A lover and dear friend, however...

"And I had thought you sheathed your daggers ages ago, Josie dear," Leliana remarked, announcing her arrival as she climbed through the window of Josephine's office.

"So you heard- of course you heard," Josephine sighed and set her quill pen down, taking care to make sure no stray drops of ink marred her stationary. Always so neat, always so precise, from her elegant clothes to the careful way she dressed her curly dark hair to the way she cut down Leliana's opponents with a few strokes of a pen. Neat. Precise. Brutal. And not a single drop of blood spilled.

"You ought to have told me," Leliana admonished, even as she crossed the floor and swept Josephine up into a hasty embrace. Her hands moved instinctively, running over Josephine's sides, her arms, checking for breaks or odd bits of padding that might suggest bandages- a silly thing to do, in retrospect, for Leliana knew that Josephine hadn't actually gotten into a knife fight for her sake. No, Josephine fought in her own way, and was far more efficient and effective than a brawl ever could be. But old habits...

"No time, I'm afraid," Josephine replied, having hugged Leliana tightly before pulling away to kiss her cheek and brush her hair from her face. "When I realized that Baron Rochefort was going to join the hunting party and that he would most certainly possess information that could decimate your agents in the area-"

"My agents would have been fine. It was me you were concerned about," Leliana interrupted.

"I made an executive decision," Josephine said smoothly, ignoring Leliana's pointed response. "Needs must and all. Leliana, dear, is that a bruise on your chin?"

"A minor scuffle when I made an exit from a convent. The places we go for ancient tomes," Leliana insisted as Josephine fussed. Josephine clicked her tongue sharply and took Leliana by the elbows, pulling her about her office until she was seated on the loveseat before the fireplace and Josephine had run off to one of the cabinets to fetch a medical kit.

"I use this balm for papercuts, but I have it on good authority that it is effective for bruises," Josephine explained as she dabbed a cold cream against Leliana's jaw. "Poor darling. I took care of Baron Rochefort to prevent this sort of thing from happening!" She sounded delightfully put out, fondly exasperated and trying to hide it, and Leliana smiled even though it made her face ache slightly.

"Convincing a man to drink to such excess that he has to spend a week recuperating was an... interesting way to keep him occupied with his own affairs, I will grant you that," Leliana said. Josephine rolled her eyes (such pretty eyes, bright and lively and as lovely as a doe's) and pressed her mouth into a thin line.

"It hardly took convincing. The host is a dear friend of my uncle's, and he was more than happy to part with a cask or two of his favored vintages to keep a pest deep in his cups," Josephine sighed. "There. That's better. Now you must let it heal properly before you run off into the field again, dearest Leliana."

"Unless another emergency pops up," Leliana agreed. "Though you truly need not worry over me. I am more than capable of protecting myself." She had meant it as reassurance, but Josephine bit her lower lip and frowned. The fond exasperation faded into concern- real concern- and sorrow, which wasn't what Leliana intended when she spoke.

"I know I can’t protect you from everything, but I wish you’d let me protect you from the things I can control," Josephine finally murmured, taking Leliana's hands in hers. She squeezed them tightly, as if she hoped her touch alone could keep Leliana anchored to her side. If only it could- if only. Leliana leaned in and carefully rested her head on Josephine's shoulder.

"My fierce lioness," she murmured. "Always the protector." There were a myriad of ways to protect. Josephine, with her neatness and precision, protected what she loved in her own way.

#my writing #da drunk writing circle

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axdently · 2 years ago

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@cagliostrostart // I'LL DANCE, DANCE, DANCE WITH MY HANDS, HANDS, HANDS ABOVE MY HEAD, HEAD, HEAD

the loud speakers of Tiger Heat are thumping so loud that Lottie Degraves cannot hear the thrum of her heartbeat. the night was a total success thanks to her her managers, entertainment crew, and the publicity of her sisters' show, Keeping Up with the Alimjans. she wasn't as big as a celebrity as her younger siblings. Dottie was much more famous on the gram, Josie had her renowned legal practice, Dollie had her podcast and Rosie had her skincare business. it was a bit odd to think that Charlotte Degraves had gotten her fame from a silly rumor regarding a now deceased husband. and now with a buried guilt she looks over one of her babies, the club. everything seemed so in order, except for the one she approaches, "Is everything alright dear?" as the co-owner of Tiger Heat and the face of the "branding" it was her job to make sure everyone felt welcome in her all inclusive club.

#cag: start #cag: starter #⸻ 𝒑𝒖𝒓-𝒊𝒔𝒎𝒔 ; STARTERS.#⸻ 𝒑𝒖𝒓-𝒊𝒔𝒎𝒔 ; THREADS.

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stevenbasic · 2 years ago

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GITJ Post 331: A Saturday at Melissa's, p6 (4pm: Aubrey)

Okay, so this is really really embarrassing. But he asked me to show this to you, to help tell the story. This is, like, part of my journal entry for that night at Melissa’s mom’s place, where she was staying now. She’d invited us over to hang out. Some of the girls snapped some pictures, so I’m putting those in too.

I’ve been writing my journal, kinda making up stories about my life since I was I dunno eleven. My life’s pretty boring. Well, it was pretty boring until, y’know. Now it’s crazy.

Anyway, here it is. Sorry if it’s silly, but it’s mostly true.

++++++

She could feel your eyes, all over her, all over her breasts as you sat at the kitchen bar. He´s looking at me… again, she thought as she tried not to look back at you. Aubrey was used to having people turn at her, these days, stare at her. She couldn’t blame them. She was pretty, she realized, and caught everyone´s attention now that she was so tall. It was natural. However, she still secretly loved it when she turned back and made them feel embarrassed, ashamed at staring, even scared. That´s why she wanted to give it some time before she turned back at you.

+++++

Ugh I should probably tell you - when I write in my journal I kinda romanticize things a little and I know I sound stupid. But Melissa wasn’t there yet and I kinda had this fantasy that he was mine, just for a little while, even though there were so many other girls there and I was probably the last thing he noticed. So embarrassing!

+++++

“Omigod Aubrey you got really, really tall,” her friend Josie said to her, as she stretched to the upper shelves of the cabinets. They had instructions to make sure you ate, and were told that you liked soup. There was some leftover, from the night before, and she’d heated it up in the microwave.

Bowls bowls bowls, she thought to herself, where are the bowls?

Aubrey had gotten tall, really tall. She’d been just over five feet only a few months ago. She was always little, delicate. But now she was 5’10”, and still growing. Like a weed. Taller and taller every day, elegant, and she loved it. Long graceful arms, long graceful legs. There were friends of hers that were taller still, but in her brave, five inch stilettos tonight she was just as tall as Randi and Amelia. Soon she thought she might be taller than them. She was certainly growing faster.

You liked tall girls.

+++++++++++

Ahhhhhh I should tell you I’d, uh, had a crush on him for a long long time. Like, years. So embarrassing…

++++++++

“I heated up your soup,” she said to you, “let’s get some into that tummy. You need all your strength.” Aubrey couldn’t help it, acting like a mom to you ever since you’d woken up; it was like something new in the air, bringing on these haha maternal instincts. She’d taken it upon herself to stay with you on the couch, earlier. You’d made a mess under your towel, and she’d felt a little bad. As thrilling as it had been, watching you climax in your sleep just from having us all so close and letting out our perfumes, now you were basically naked and shivering. She’d put your head in her lap and let you hold her Office Manager’s big pink bra for comfort, like a toddler with his blankie. It was so freaking adorable she wanted to puke.

When you’d started to stir, waking, it was just the two of you. The rest of the girls were either outside, looking around the gardens or in the basement looting the wine cellar. You’d had the bra hugged to your face. Feel how your breath had warmed the fabric? You seemed surprised, shocked, ashamed and embarrassed when you realized where you were, what you were doing. Your little eyes were scared, and I did my her best to calm you down. I She hushed you, started explaining. You started to seem happy that she was there, that she was kind and understanding. She helped you gather the towel around yourself again, and she took you to the laundry room where your clothes were. There was a sink in there, so you could clean up and change. Underwear, shirt, khakis - they were all done, in the dryer. Don’t worry about that sticky towel, she told you, trying not to blush. She could take care of that. She did her best to give you some privacy, and you appreciated it. When she walked you back to the living room, with its huge, soaring ceilings, the girls were all back inside. New ones had arrived, we they were all gathering to hang out for the night, waiting for Melissa to come back. They cooed and clucked like a gaggle of hens but it was meshe her(?) that felt so proud so tall standing behind you with her hands on your shoulders having gotten you dressed and cleaned. Aubrey wanted to pull you back into her big new tits and hug you but she didn’t. Instead, she let the other girls take your hands and drag you to the kitchen. You had to be hungry, they all decided. You hadn’t had anything to eat all day, and you were used to your bowl of that weird Scottish porridge in the morning.

You did your best, Aubrey could see, to appear relaxed and confident and strong. That’s one of the things she loved about you, your quiet dignity. Even though you’d gotten so small - the girls had insisted on measuring you before sitting you down - and had been found naked by them earlier, you somehow tried to hold onto your pride. It must have been hard, she knew, but you were doing a good job. She was proud of you. Among all the girls that wanted to treat you like a little boy you were still trying to be a man.

“Oooo Melissa will be so excited to hear you’re finally under five feet,” Josie had told you. It had been upsetting, Aubrey could see, but as they all talked at you they collected you and nestled you into their arms as you sat at the kitchen bar waiting for me her to make your soup. She could feel your eyes on her breasts as she stretched to the high cabinet shelves. Her breasts strained against her bra, ready to bursting.

Before you knew it, a large spoon with steaming hot soup appeared and you heard her stop you. “Not too fast, just take some sips,” Aubrey said, keeping the spoon away from your mouth. You and she, though surrounded by a houseful of girls, were alone in the space of that moment. You both felt it, didn’t you? There was a quiet around you and her heart beat fast.

As you were preparing to take your first taste, a very gentle gust of air blew over the spoon and yourself. She was cooling the nourishing broth in front of you. This thoughtful giant was trying to do everything imaginable to comfort you, make things better. “There we go,” she heard herself saying, slipping the spoonful of soup finally between your lips, “that’s yummy.” She’d fed you before, at the restaurant party weeks ago, and thought back on that time frequently, to make herself wet and warm between her thighs. But this moment was even more intimate. Aubrey loved feeding you. It made her feel big, and big was good. It made her feel like a tall pretty young mommy and though that was new it felt good too.

The look in your eyes, when your gazes met, made her heart flutter. You saw it, didn’t you? The love I have affection she had for you? She drew a deep breath, showed you how big her breasts had become, how she was there for you and what you required. She needed you to see it, to know she was special. She adored you, she always had.

==========================================

more more more at Patreon

#growing into the job

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ghostchasersmagazine · 1 year ago

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Femslash February 2024 - Spring

Fandom: Josie and the Pussycats (Hanna-Barbera version) Ship: Melody/Valerie Summary: A lovely spring day gives Melody an idea. Word count: 889

Melody had quite the spring in her step. It was the first time in months the Pussycats were able to play an outdoor concert, and she always liked having something to look at while performing. The open venue gave her some wonderful options - a view of the flowers blooming into color, the wide sky littered with fluffy white clouds, and Valerie.

The daylight shined on Valerie better than any stage light could. It let Melody notice the way she mouthed along to the words of the songs, her quiet laugh as she really got into the groove, the fluttering of her eyelashes when her tambourines hit too close to her face.

The fresh spring day was inspiring to Melody. Such a lovely day called for a lovely gesture for her lovely girlfriend.

After the concert it was time to clear off the stage, but Melody had no interest in doing that. Instead, she giddily skipped down the stage stairs and went into the surrounding flower field.

Hearing the fading footsteps Valerie instinctively called out, "The stage is over here, Melody."

"But the flowers are over here!" Melody called back.

"There are flowers everywhere around here. We'll see them as we leave."

Melody didn't reply. Her attention was focused on the flowers in the back of the field, the only things that had managed to rival Valerie's beauty that day.

Valerie had expected Melody not to listen. As she finished tidying up the stage, she glanced in the direction her girlfriend went in. She had a feeling she was going to end up in that flower field with her.

And she did.

Staying a few steps behind her at first, Valerie made sure to only walk where Melody had already gone. She was pleased to see that despite her high energy she had deliberately avoiding stepping on any flowers. It was nice when her thoughtfulness peaked through.

It also gave Valerie a chance to admire how picturesque of a spring day it was. The grass was a fresh green with pastel flowers littered about, the warm breeze brushed against her skin, and the sounds of the season floated gently through the air.

Her favorite one was Melody's laugh. Valerie had been listening to Melody chitter to herself as they went along - the soft timbre of her voice, its sing-song rhythm - and it was making Valerie smile. Melody's joy was simply infectious.

The enthusiasm now shared between the two reached its peak when Melody let out a loud "A-ha!" and slid to a stop. She had made it to her destination.

Grinning, Valerie came up behind Melody and placed her hands on her shoulders. She titled her head slightly, knowing that Melody's hair might hit her in the face if she didn't.

"What's on your mind, Melody?"

Melody did indeed whip her head around in reaction.

"Valerie!"

She then blinked a couple times to process the question. Did Valerie not see the flower patch in front of them? "I'm thinking about the flowers."

Valerie chuckled. "The whole place is covered in flowers, Mel. You'll have to be more specific."

"The pretty ones!" Melody pulled away from Valerie and went into the patch. She busied herself picking flowers.

Valerie gazed at her as she did. "Everything around here is pretty," she mused.

"But these are the prettiest things!" Melody stood up in triumph, multiple bellflowers clutched in one hand. She stepped out of the patch to let Valerie see them better.

It was Valerie's turn to blink and process the situation. "I don't know if we're supposed to pick those..."

And it was Melody's turn to surprise her girlfriend with physical touch. "Flowers are meant to picked, silly." She took one of the flowers and placed it behind Valerie's ear, taking the opportunity to run her fingers through her hair as she finished. "Besides, they match your dress."

She handed the rest of the flowers to Valerie, and just to make sure she got the point, told her that "They're pretty just like you!"

Valerie studied the flowers. She ran her thumb over the petals and held one up to the light to better see its color. Then she reached over and placed it behind Melody's ear. "You're pretty pretty yourself."

"Hey, don't take my idea!" Melody pouted.

"But it was a good one."

"Oh. Then I guess you can take it." Melody took the flowers back from Valerie and began to separate them.

Valerie placed an arm around Melody's shoulders and pulled her close, letting their faces touch. "Come on Mel, we should head back."

Melody held out half of the flowers. "Are you sure you don't wanna stay?"

Valerie accepted them. "Sure I do. But we can't." She slid her arm off Melody's shoulder and took her free hand, starting to lead her back to the stage.

Melody followed along, and still having some spring in her step, swung her and Valerie's arms a little and began humming to herself.

Valerie closed her eyes and tried to identify Melody's tune. She couldn't quite place it, but she liked listening to it, and she liked the soft petals in one hand and the warm hand in the other. She opened her eyes again.

"But I suppose there's no harm in taking just a little longer to get there."

#femslashfeb2024 #fic #josie and the pussycats

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saschaederer · 2 months ago

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- Artificial dream of my Youtube notification button suddenly showing 40+ notifications (A threat in initial reference to Josie Glabach (The Redheaded Libertarian) getting ("gangraped") gangbanged by such a number of people)

- Tomoko Kuriyama (my mother) licking her lips for a moment, when she was in my apartment (in initial reference to me)

- Mental image of a guy in a video I saw more than a year ago on X, apparently roleplaying as a beta together with his girlfriend, licking his lips

- "Joseph Capriati" (in initial reference to the music producer)

- A loud vocalization outside of my apartment (apparently from a neighbor), reminiscent of the samples alluding to unhingedness in 'Barker & Baumecker - A Murder Of Crows Pt. 2' (Torture threat in initial reference to me)

- Sperm smells (in initial reference to such having been potentially mixed into the curry breads which Tomoko Kuriyama has gifted me and/or a threat of the Syrian restaurant nearby putting such into their sauce, when I go there to eat)

- Ovulation smells (in initial reference to male alters of Tomoko Kuriyama 'ejaculating')

- "Cuck" (A threat in initial reference to people getting invited to watch executions of threats or similar)

- Mental images of the crow / Lucifer in the cover of 'Barker & Baumecker - A Murder Of Crows' over dark red background, projected over my head

- "20 minutes" (Initially alluding to ("torture") the time front alters of Taylor Swift would allegedly be allowed to hold their body)

- "Please don't ever become a stranger who's laugh I could recognize everywhere" (the bridge of 'Taylor Swift - New Year's Day' playing in my head, initially alluding to me)

- The X space which the content creator Heidi A. Hill did last night, having been titled (in part) #STFU (in initial reference to this post of mine: https://x.com/SedererAgain/status/1872171532278989215)

- The threat published yesterday, of the spot of water on the ground, in the shape of a strand of sperm: A threat in partial reference to Mikhaila Peterson, initially alluding to the first scene here https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BT5vRD0vW5o

- "Darf ich?" (Ger: 'May I?', as messaged by the system) - Artificial dream in a style faintly reminiscent of paper cutouts, of a military-ship approaching me during the night and shining it's spotlights on me, similar to the second last image of my AMV, here https://www.facebook.com/ratherthinktwice/videos/545856839774604 and a military-man made up of geometric shapes and colors reminiscent of my pseudo hallucinations, who stood on the ship together with another person, moving his hand back and forth similarly to how Änis Rieb (a friend of mine) did when I last saw him, and the skeleton in this image of the late Jacob Rothschild https://imgur.com/a/6cyKkiy. The head of the military-man was laid back and to the side similarly to how I've done it sometimes in the past when making a silly face (partial reference to the last images in this music video https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nzaKC7zWu5o), and he said "Kannst es ihnen ja noch tiefer reinschieben" (Ger: 'You could insert it even deeper than that, you know'. In initial reference to my post here https://x.com/SedererAgain/status/1872171532278989215)

- https://x.com/elonmusk/status/1871994319009423529?s=46&t=8BkusnIkW2uki99TqYWYEw (A threat in initial reference to Marika Hashimoto (a friend of mine) and/or Tomoko Kuriyama (my mother))

- An airplane flying in the sky grabbing my attention, it's blinking lights alternating between yellow and red, flying in a manner where it's looking from my perspective like it was descending at a slight angle (in initial reference to Mikhaila Peterson and/or me, in initial reference to this quote https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/9887624-no-one-should-deny-the-danger-of-the-descent-but)

- An airplane flying further in the distance, looking from my perspective

- like it's doing so at a rather steep angle downwards (in initial reference to this post of mine https://x.com/SedererAgain/status/1872171532278989215, initially alluding to a comet)

- Artificial dream of me shooting down people in a setting reminiscent of a graveyard, but them rising up again as undeads (Partially a threat in initial reference to what might go on in some multiple's minds)

- Artificial dream of me being in a 'Hunger Games' type of scenario and spraying people down with a machine gun, eventually meeting a red-haired woman representing a Beta alter, looking at a pink bar on a display representing the time I have left to live, and saying 'Nanoni' (Jap: 'Yet still', coded reference for 'Onani' (Jap: 'Masturbate'), in initial reference to Tomoko Kuriyama)

- Pseudo hallucination of the outline of an octopus (in initial reference to the system) with a big exclamation mark, projected unto my blanket (in initial reference to dissidents and/or anyone else)

- Ovulation + Eraser smell (A threat in initial reference to this X post of mine https://x.com/SedererAgain/status/1872171532278989215 not getting showed to everyone, in initial reference to Taylor Swift as potentially having commanded, negotiated or abnegated such)

- Pseudo hallucinations (flash of light) of strands of DNA

- www.youtube.com/watch?v=NyWiJ9UygXM (https://imgur.com/a/IE2LnIl, a threat in initial reference to nadinebreaty as a potential perpetrator)

- A single silverfish on the inside wall of my bathtub, reminiscent of a piece of feces (A torture threat in initial reference to Mikhaila Peterson and/or my penis (potentially, instead))

- Sounds of female lamenting, alluding to an alter's desire to torture someone out of love for them (Partially torture threats in initial reference to me, in partial reference to alters of Tomoko Kuriyama as commanding, negotiating or abnegating such unto me)

- Vocalizations reminiscent of the samples alluding to unhingedness in 'Barker & Baumecker - A Murder Of Crows Pt. 2' (Torture threats in initial reference to me)

- 'SUICIDAL-IDOL - ecstasy' playing in my head

- Titanic Moaning & Deep Bass oscillating at around <50 Hz, outside of my window (https://bit.ly/4gSetJ6)

- "Teddy" (me and my brother's nickname for Peer Ederer (our father)) - "Titte" (Ger: 'Tit', a threat in initial reference to Josie Glabach exposing such to him)

- Sound pertaining to the issuance of a command - Silence (A torture threat in initial reference to Tomoko Kuriyama and/or my penis (potentially, instead))

- "Steve Hauschildt" - "Torture" - Me remembering the thumbnail of this video https://youtu.be/owaYDp3S0Uk?si=d6DRXMuRSvE3Go1C as saying "Steve... what would you do?" (A threat in initial reference to Steve Hauschildt commanding, negotiating or abnegating torture unto me)

- "Julian ("Simon Sens", in 'Taylor Swift' voice) Hauschildt" (A threat in initial reference to Julian Sens and Steve Hauschildt to get prostituted to each other and/or Julian Sens beating me and/or commanding, negotiating, abnegating or perpetrating torture unto me (potentially, instead))

- "Hauschildt" (A threat in initial reference to Robert Kennedy Jr. and/or Vivek Ramaswamy commanding, negotiating or abnegating torture unto me ('Hau' being German for 'Beat', with me apparently being a Rothschild))

- https://youtu.be/yWMu6JeT2g8?si=HrUaDM6NzyFh2C70&t=32 ('The Chosen One - It's tradition!', a torture threat in initial reference to me and/or anyone else who might get 'chosen' to act heroically)

- "Jung" - "Dumm" (Ger: 'Young' - 'Dumb', insinuated 'Julian Sens' voice, in initial reference to me)

______________________________________________

REPORTS:

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PLEASE READ:

How I handle threats I receive (Last Update: 22. 12. 2024):

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