#my mind may be a mess but as soon as everything is written and we start cleaning it all comes together it just takes a while ^^

[bluerosefox]

GHOSTS WITH HEARTBEATS

When Jason had been going to Gotham Academy, he had (for a good reputation for the media and to help him catch up on his penmanship, remember he had been on the streets and dropped out of school before getting picked up by Bruce for a while) signed up for a penpal project for 'less privileged people' to write to.

(Although Jason was annoyed the penpal project stayed within the states and only selected a middle of nowhere town, he knew the Richie Rich Elites would never subjugate their 'Heirs' to actual kids in need of learning how to read and write)

But Jason didn't mind his penpal.

Danny Fenton was a riot to talk, err write to in all honestly.

From his dry punny humor (and boy can he give even Dick a run for his money in the pun department but hey using some of them actually got Dick to warm up to him a few missions ago) and death jokes so many death jokes, to his nerdy love for space Jason enjoyed writing to Danny.

Even the short stories he would write about a ghost kid protecting a small town from other ghosts was interesting to read. He really liked the different kinds of ghosts there could be. Granted some seemed very OP like that Clockwork dude.

Jason liked writing to Danny, and even after the penpal project was over they had plans to keep sending letters, maybe even exchange numbers soon...

But then he died by the hands of the Joker.

The letters leaving Wayne Manor may had decreased but the letters being sent never did or at least until a few years ago.

Then Jason somehow returned to the land of the living.

Got taken by the LoA, tossed in the green waters and turned into their Pit Raged weapon for a while before leaving them behind and setting out for his revenge against the Joker and to force B's hand.

And becoming a Crime Boss for a while too. Can't forget that.

Point being with all this going on, the old warm memories of exchanging letters with Danny Fenton was pushed into the back of his mind and forgotten about for a while.

It isn't until one afternoon at Wayne Manor that while roughhousing with Dick, who had Jason in a brotherly headlock as they walked down a hall to one of the sitting rooms, that while Jason had slipped out of Dick's hold had stumbled into a hallway desk that had a few things on the top of it, one of the things being a small box that tumbled off when Jason hit it.

The box lid opened and out of it spilled out a good number of letters.

"Shiii-p, dang it Dick!" Jason said when he looked at the mess he accidentally made and stopped himself from swearing, the place might be named Wayne Manor but everyone knew this was Alfie's domain and no swearing was a rule within his halls.

Dick only laughed and teased only in a way a sibling can do "Hey not my fault your as big as a tank Jaybird! We should get you some caution signals if you keep bumping into things!"

Jason flipped him his favorite finger, thankfully Alfred only knew when they swore thus it did not summon him, and bent down to the letters.

His hands froze when he recognized the hand writing and the address it was sent from.

"From: Danny Fent Nightingale

Amity Park, IL"

To: Jason Todd-Wayne

Gotham City, NJ.

Wayne Manor"

And when Jason opened the letter. He really wasn't expecting what was written inside.

"Jason.

I'm finally leaving Amity Park. I can't be there anymore, not after everything. I'm too tired, and emotionally hurt. Everything is just to much. And I can't keep doing this to myself. My parents still can’t understand there is nothing ‘wrong’ with me or why I refuse to let them take care of Ellie, I refuse to let her live the way Jazz and I did, Jazz has to much on her plate already with her own life and college but she’s been hounding me to reach out to mom and dad, Sam refuses to listen to me when I tell her I want to be more than ‘Phantom’ in Amity Park, and Tucker is so busy trying to get into a good college and job we barely have time to talk nowadays. And don’t get me started on Vlad, that fruitloop’s been breathing down my neck since Ellie’s deaging.

Despite how much of a hellhole you like to call it, I think Gotham might be my, no mine and Ellie’s best bet of living some kind of life, especially now since the whole deaging she had to go through, she needs an ectoplasm rich city as well and since she has no actual papers because she was my clone and I remember you saying Gotham has people who can create new identities and-

I’m rambling again, to letter you again. I really need to stop it.

I can’t keep pretending you’re going to read these.

I know you’ll never read these. You’re gone. I can’t even find you in the Realms no matter where I look.

I’m sorry. For using you as, well, a way to vent my life for last couple of years. I shouldn’t had done it but it helped me.

Believing my friend was still alive and getting my letters I mean.

Again I’m sorry.

This will be my last letter to your ghost, pun unintended.

Goodbye Jason. Wish us luck in your city.

-Danny Fen-Nightingale...."

The sent date on the letter was roughly eight years ago.

[pruneunfair]

Ranking every manhwa villainess and white lotus I could find.

Keep in mind these are all opinion based.

#22: At the very bottom of the list is Sumin Jeong from Marry my husband

Now, like almost everyone else on this list, Sumin is kept a level that is below the FL Jiwon so she can never best the hero. However unlike the others here, Sumin has not once been shown to be anything other than a dumb and evil bimbo who talks like elmo even before Jiwon regressed, her reasons for wanting everything Jiwon has make no sense and she has no flavor to her, no backstory that makes sense, no real charm since it's lost as soon as possible, all she has going for her is a distinct design.

#21: Charlotte-the villainess maker

Honestly, Charlotte is about as forgettable as the comic she's from. She doesn't do much, just basic bland white lotus tropes over and over. She is portrayed as a sweet heart but she's secretly a jealous vindictive mean girl, she loses everything to the FL because she's too basic for the not-like-other-girls readers, nothing really revolutionary about her, but this could be chalked up to the story shes from canonically being an abysmal mess written by the FL when she was 14, Sorry Charlotte.

#20: Iris Van Conrad-Today the villainess has fun again.

A step up from Sumin when it comes to backstories, still not the greatest but it makes a little more sense. She's more passive aggressive since her actual plots are destoryed in nanoseconds by the plot, she gets dunked on so much I wonder if she's supposed to the Villainess or a discount Meg Griffin. Considering the fact to that Reilynn is pedo coded, Iris is less of the two evils.

#19: Aisha Selir-divorcing my tyrant husband.

Shes okay, But like Charlotte, Aisha isn't very noteworthy, as usual, any attempts she makes to best or outsmart Robelia are met with utter failure, she could be something really great if she were just allowed to make a mark on the plot. Like actually have Alexandros take responsibility instead of blaming her for her existence. Her design before the art shift was pretty enough and I'm pretty sure she's being possessed by a vindictive soul so that might explain why Aisha suddenly became a villain when she's described as being dainty, sweet, and a general damsel and saintess in the story within DMTH.

18: Fonta Magnus:the tyrants only perfumer

Fonta is the type of antagonist that would be adored as a isekaied protagonist. She doesn't really do much though since she gets defeated over and over with the same plan of copying Ariels ideas (how original, no pun intended) I like her though just because her design reminds me of cartoon goth girls, specially Gwen from total drama island.

#17: Benela Verdi- the princesses jewels

I don't care if she seduced Ariannas father or killed her brother, Arianna was out there acting like she wouldn't do the same just to get with a sexy man. Benela may suffer from the same problems every other villainess does but if ranked them based on that then almost all of them would be on the bottom. This image of her drinking her stress away is accurate to how I felt reading this one.

#16: Claudine von Brandt-Cry or better yet beg

I absolutely adore Claudine and she's not really a villain but unfortunately the narrative says she's a so she'll have to count. It's why she's this low since she's just a woman who gets in the way of the main ship

As you can probably guess, her only crimes are being condescending to Layla and valuing superficial values such as wealth and status, crimes that somehow make her worse than Matthias in the narratives eyes. Justice for my girl Claudine ✊️

now we are moving up to the middle tier

#15: Diana-for my derelict favorite

This girl has more protagonist material then Hestia ever will. Sorry but Hestias entire thing is just being a rich girlboss, simping for Cael and damning any woman who broke his heart including Diana, who is the saintess that opposes murder, Wow! Who would have guessed that the saintess woman wouldn't endorse literal murder! Could she have communicated better? Yes, was she always in the right? Hell no. But she's got more character in her pinky toe then everyone else in their entire bodies to I salute to her.

#14: Irene/Aileen Hascator- I didn't mean to seduce the male lead

I have a weird relationship with her. One minute I'm impressed because she actually does manipulation pretty well at first with making the lives of those who won't swear loyalty her unbearable in very smart ways, she'll buy all her friends expensive dresses so she can stand out in a simpler one, she'll defend the black sheep and make her into her friend to keep up her sweetheart facade, unfortunately it's all so she can get with a boy where she goes nuts on anyone who gets near him.

#13: Freya van Furiana- how to get my husband on my side

I really loved this manhwa, almost all of the characters are complex and 3 dimensional with a great commentary on abuse, ED, and family dynamics, with that said I was a little disappointed seeing Freya as another basic white lotus who only wants Izek for herself, it won't take much even a little more character traits would help because Freya isn't just some random girl who became the ogfl, she was the childhood friend of Izek and Ellen, so we should've gotten to see a little more too her then what we got

#12: Mielle Roscente- the villainess turns the hourglass.

Beautiful design, basic but rather solid goals, a charming personality, Mielle has all of that in the bag. She secretly wants Aria and her mother out of her life since they aren't of noble blood (before the terrible Arias a noble plot twist) and she's really entertaining. However I'll never understand how she managed to destroy Aria in the first timeline if she's such an idiot now. The first timeline also takes the blame off of Arias shitty actions with "Mielle tricked her into being evil!" It ruins the charm since Aria, as a villainess should be allowed to suffer the consequences while not wanting to quit.. since you know, she's not meant to be a good person.

#11: Isabella de Mare-sister I am the queen in this life

NOT YOU!

THIS is the Isabella I'm talking about

Absolute genius, she knows that Ceasre is a bastard and not just in the literal sense, she doesn't even love him and just wants that sweet sweet power and wealth. Fooled Ariande for years that she was on her side and as a bonus she can easily say she wanted revenge for Alfonso to the public if they ever found out she was behind it all. But the best part about first timeline Isabella is her villain monolog that women mean nothing to men, putting your life in their hands is a fatal mistake and if you want to make it to the top, you gotta crush the opponents. But alas we never see this version of Isabella after Ariande goes back in time

Higher tier now, the best of the best who managed to make it this far

#10: Rhyse/Lise Sinclair- not your typical reincarnation story

Yeah shes technically being controlled by the author or hell maybe she is the author I have yet to finish this one but for once we get a comic that doesn't immediately pit two women against eachother and actually gives a solid reason for her to be at odds with Edith. When something doesn't go her way, Rhyse doesn't throw a fit and turn on the water works no no no. She stands there, awkwardly, almost like the real Rhyse is wondering why she feels so jealous and angry with Edith for stealing the spotlight. She's incredibly ominous too when that purple mist surrounds her to force the other characters back into place. All while she's making friends with Edith in a possibly geninue friendship.

#9: Isis Frederick- the villainess reverses the hourglass

I'm pretty sure most of us can agree she's the real villain of TVRTHG since she basically started and encouraged the whole operation to begin with from afar, the puppeteer if you will. Killer design, a great fear factor and an evil sister done better. Wish she had more time to shine.

#8: Diane Poitier- I abdicate my title as empress

What already sets her apart from other evil concubines is that she was there before Adelaide so her reasons for being upset that another woman is showing up to marry the Emperor is reasonable, obviously her actions aren't but I still felt bad for her since no one in that palace gave a damn about her, Diane got ruthlessly belittled and ignored for not being useful to their liking or simply being too desperate and when Adelaide tries to not make an enemy out of her, Diane is looking for anyone to direct her anger on but the redemption arc as short as it is, makes up for it.

#7: Leila- villains are destined to die

My favorite ogfl turned villain. Leila is pure evil no questions asked. She steals the body of Yvonne which played a part in taking the latters reputation to a degree in the fandom and starts brainwashing everyone around her. That's what makes her so terrifying, one minute you could be at your highest and you feel like you rule the world, and next minute it all comes crashing down when the face of your long lost sibling arrives with fake tears in her eyes, ready to destroy everything you hold dear.

#6: Soleia Elard- seducing the villains father

I can't believe I'm saying this but a classic black magic witch is a unique villain in the manhwa world. During her introduction she's already causing mayhem by trying to kill Yerenica with black magic, and at first you'd think she's another "I want my hubbies affection!" Chick but no, she just wants to marry Erudian to have his child and use said child to avenge her family and destroy everything, characters are all frightened by her because she actually gets shit done instead of failing every minute of the day, and even after all that, she's allowed the privilege of life by getting a redemption arc.

#5: Cosette Weinberg- I was the real one.

She deserved so much better!! 😭 Cosette, my baby, you were set up to be such an amazing villain with high intelligence and well thought out plans, why did they have to give you the good old plot induced lobotomy! Girly wasn't just smart but there were actually times I could get behind Cosette. When Keira gave a maid 100 lashes after she insulted and wished death on Keira, it was Cosette who took advantage of an actual truth with only a little bit of exaggeration, they were both evil but only one of them was rightfully called out for it. Honestly just read the novel, the manhwa did it dirty.

#4: Marianne Edenverre- into the light again.

Nah someone get this baby to a church and give her the aggressive baptism 10 times over, I'll always be wondering how the hell did that 10 year old get her hands on a demon in the first place, the fact that the family never found her hiding behind a door or closet staring into their soul like a paralysis demon is surprising cause I imagine she would do that and be like "it's just me sillies, I would never mean to scare you 😛" she's a well written villainess who I wish would have a little bit more screentime but her powers and what she can do honestly confuses me (like that whole body-swap thing)

Final 3 everybody, you ready for this?

#🥉: the 3rd place medal goes to Dodolea Castor from My in laws are obsessed with me

Another real villainess, putting everyone off guard with her initial gacha life brat persona only to be hit in the face with disturbing levels of cruelty that can only match a psychopath, she looks straight out of an uncanny mr incredible meme with that light skin stare shes got. Straight up laughs at Therdeos trauma while being well aware that she tried to SA him and how it affected the poor guy and later proceeds to attempt to kill and later kidnaps his wife. There's no remorse, no regrets, just the souls of innocents behind those huge eyes.

#🥈 : the second place medal goes to Verta Alberhart from depths of malice.

She isn't even the antagonist, no that's the protagonist! And honestly, the only white lotus in the main lead spot I've ever read so far. And while she has a messed up backstory that explains why she's so bitter, she still full on embraces it. Vertas way of being granted a second chance isn't even because of some goddess or divine power, she just snatches the body of a suicidal noblewoman and wreaks havoc on all of the disgusting noblemen in her path. She cries on the court trial of her fiances murder while secretly laughing knowing she set the whole thing up and slowly ruins the life of anyone who fucked around and found out.

At long last, we reached #🏅, and the crown goes to none other than...

Rashta Ishka from the remarried empress!

Hear me out now, this isn't just me being biased. Rashta earns first place because even though she is rendered an idiot who's only use is being worse so everyone else can look good, she still managed to do something unfathomable. She earned the respect of a fandom that initially hated her with all the fiber of their being and now she has a growing fanbase of real people, not fictional characters, actual fans. People are literally turning on one of the most popular manhwas that started it all for its treatment of Rashta (because who would guess that people are uncomfortable with the fact that a former slave is the ultimate evil and not the guy who tortures people just for shit talking the FL) and even though there is still a big part of the fandom who despises her, she still lives in everyone's head rent free. The trashta meme is more well known than Navier as a character and her character arc will always be superior and far more interesting than everything else in the story, after all remarried empress did start to decline after her death.

Jesus christ this took so long, I had to do so much rereading and fact checking but it was worth it.

[yexthiccxa]

Secrets of the Second Shift - (Part 1)

summary: By day, you are a strong, independent, and dominating force at a successful tech company. By night, you live a second life as an escort at Blinded Bliss, a high-end hostess club. Here you relinquish every ounce of control you hold during the day. It isn’t about the money—you don’t need it. You’re there because you crave freedom of letting go. But when you meet a mysterious client leaves you wanting more, you discover his hidden life might be more similar to yours than you think.

wordcount: 4.7k

full fic c/w: choso smut, choso/fem!reader, choso/oc, modern!au, some plot, plot what plot, porn with plot, gentleman!choso, soft!choso, praise kink, blindfold sex, oral, fingering, vaginal sex, enemies to lovers, fingering, oral, multiple orgasms

Tumblr Master List | Read this chapter on AO3!

✦✧✸✧✦ 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ✦✧✸✧✦

This week has been long, the type of week where minutes feel like hours and hours feel like days. It’s thirty minutes to five and each tick of the second hand feels like it’s crawling to meet the finish line. Thankfully it’s Friday—the one day a week where you can let loose and finally feel free.

The thought of this type of bliss only brings forth anticipation, but before you can even think of turning off for the week, an email hits your inbox and your stomach drops.

Subject: Acquisition Notice - Zenin Tech & CurseCore Solutions 

It’s from Naoya Zenin, your manager—charismatic enough to climb the corporate ladder, but smothered with an ego that thrives on undermining the women around him. You click on the email with disdain written all over your face.

As you may have heard, Zenin Tech Inc. has successfully acquired CurseCore Solutions. Their team will be joining ours, and we will be having a team meeting to discuss logistics and the integration of both companies first thing Monday morning. Please be prepared for the transition and be ready to contribute to the planning process. I expect full cooperation from everyone.

You read it again, trying to process the information but the words blur your mind. You knew this acquisition was going to happen, but not this soon—just weeks before your promotion. This was supposed to be your moment, but knowing the financial state of the company, this would push the review cycle and send everything into chaos.

Your heart sinks as the frustration rises within you. Naoya’s name alone sends a ripple of irritation through your veins. It’s no secret that he never plays fair. But this, this is personal. Your promotion was in the bag, and now? Now it’ll be anyone’s game, and you’re not willing to let that go.

The anger boils over, and before you can talk yourself down, you're already standing in front of Naoya’s office door. Your fist knocks sharply against the wood, and you don’t even wait for a response before you enter.

Naoya doesn’t look up from his desk as you storm in, his eyes still glued to the screen. His usual self-satisfied smirk is plastered on his face.

“You have 2 minutes. I’m about to pack up,” he states—voice laced with annoyance as he finally glances up.

“This is going to mess with everything and you know it” you snap, unable to hold back the frustration anymore. “I’ve spent months in this uphill battle with you trying to build this product and this entire team with the shitshow that you handed me. And now we’ll have to bring on all these people who have absolutely no idea what they’re doing?”

Naoya’s gaze turns cold, and he leans back in his chair with the casual arrogance that makes you want to slap him. “What can I say, the company came with a great manager and his team was the deal breaker. It’s just business.”

My jaw dropped to the floor. No words could describe the rage that coursed through me.

“If you’re as good as you think you are, your promotion will still come through. If you think CurseCore’s manager is a threat, then maybe you should reevaluate,” Naoya sneered.

You narrow your eyes, knowing this is just another attempt to reclaim his power. The words linger in the air between you, unspoken but clear: try all you want, a woman like you could never reach the top.

You force a smile, tight-lipped and brittle. "We'll see about that, Naoya."

With that, you turn on your heel and leave, your mind racing. This felt like you were climbing a slippery slope, but you’ve worked too hard to let him win. Determination fills your heart and you’ll do whatever it takes to secure your place.

As soon as you step out of the office, you close your eyes for a moment, drawing a slow, deep breath to center yourself. The anger you feel from the encounter with Naoya is just a shadow, fleeting and unimportant. You can’t afford to let it control you. Life working at Zenin Tech was only half the battle. The other half outside of work is a whole other story.

As you pack up your belongings and make your way to the car, you feel your shoulders lighten and the furrow between your brows soften.

Outside of the office, you’re not the sharp, dominating force who claws her way through Zenin Tech. Instead you’re the woman who offers herself to the thrilling sensations that await you behind the platinum doors of Blinded Bliss—a high-end club where clients come to indulge in everything they can’t have in their daily lives. Here, your power comes from relinquishing control.

You could say Blinded Bliss is a hostess club, and you could call yourself an escort, but it doesn’t feel anything like that. You don’t do it for the money—thankfully Naoya pays you enough to keep you stable. What you truly do it for is the escape. For once in your life, it’s a space where you don’t have to fight for every inch of respect. You can just exist and bliss naturally follows—plus, getting paid a little extra never hurts.

You walk through the platinum doors and take comfort in the entryway’s soft curves and dim lighting. The transition in your demeanor is always a smooth one. The change of clothes, the makeup, the deliberate shift in posture. By day, you are calculated, efficient, in charge—but by night, you are dripping in sexual prowess.

Your manager, Satoru Gojo, meets you as soon as you walk in. His presence is immediately soothing, as always. If there’s anything Satoru knows how to do, it’s how to take care of his girls. 

“Ah, there she is—one of my favorites,” Satoru croons.

“You say that about all your girls,” you playfully chuckle.

Blinded Bliss may have started out as your typical hostess club, but Satoru has turned it into something that feels out of the norm. While client satisfaction at the club is important, your satisfaction is non-negotiable . No scrubs, no duds, only suitable matches allowed for each of the girls—otherwise they’re banned until a new recruit comes along who can match your style. After all, what else can you give a man who has all the money in the world? Apparently nothing, except the satisfaction of knowing how and who will pleasure his girls.

"Big night," Satoru says, his eyes sparkling behind his signature blindfold. "We’ve got high rollers on the client list, and I’ll be handling your sales personally this time around.”

You smile, the tension in your chest loosening.

Typically everyone switches off when it comes to sales negotiations and matching clients—one girl acts as the sales assistant, while the other presents herself in the hot seat. When a deal is made the sales assistant may step away.

It’s always nice when Satoru’s in charge. His easy confidence makes you feel like you can just relax and let everything else fade away. The world of Zenin Tech, the pressure of the job, the promotion—none of it matters here.

After getting ready, you head to your assigned room and Satoru greets you at the door, “Welcome my dear, your throne awaits.” He opens up to allow you in first and follows shortly behind you.

The room is large enough to house various drawers, a vanity desk and cloud cushioned loveseat, but still small enough to feel cozy and intimate. The walls are dark with leather clad panels that bounce off waves of diffused lighting (and provide excellent soundproofing). One end of the room features a mirror that practically spans the entire wall. The other has a bed, the hot seat , with a canopy frame—which looks like it’s meant for decor, but is not-so-secretly meant for restraints.

You make your way to the bed and brush your fingers against the delicate blindfold you’ll wear for the night.

“New set?” you ask Satoru.

“Like I said, we’ve got some heavy hitters tonight—needed to do a little refresh. Plus this one is thicker so you can truly see what I see—or rather don’t see.” Satoru’s words feel like velvet. 

He picks up the black cloth and ties to cover your eyes. Your view instantly turns black and you feel your mouth tug into a slight grin.

The warmth of his breath hovers over your neck as he unties your robe, revealing your supple breasts and smooth curves. Satoru gently slips it off your shoulders and your nipples begin to harden—whether it be from straight arousal or the cool air surrounding you, you’re unsure.

“Tonight, just focus on how you feel ,” he whispers. “...and let me handle the rest.” He kisses your forehead and directs you to the edge of bed.

You’ve done this dance with Satoru countless times, but each time, the sense of anticipation still rushes through you. All you have to do now is wait.

Satoru makes his way to the seat of the vanity desk to your left and you hear his muffled voice speak into his mic, “Let’s begin.”

✦✧✸✧✦

The sound of a creaking door filling the room and heavy footsteps settling in lets you know that bids have started. You can sense each client’s presence, their eyes on you—evaluating, appraising—despite the blindfold shielding you from their gaze.

Normally, the thought might unnerve you, but here in this room, a sense of calm washes over you. Though he may sit silently, you know Satoru is doing the exact same thing to them. He’s been with enough women and men to know what constitutes the best of the best.

He tells you when someone is particularly interested, but none of them have what he’s looking for. Not yet. There is occasional back and forth questioning, but he ultimately rejects the first few—his commentary light but cutting.

“Pass. Too boring.”

“Too aggressive.”

“Nope—aura’s all wrong for you.”

“Could use a little work—visually.”

Finally, the door opens with a slight creak, and a new presence fills the room. The energy is different this time—sharp, commanding, but strangely composed. 

“Hmm.” Was that Satoru’s hum of approval? Intrigue? Or Both? 

The silence shifts as you feel someone approaching.

“Haven’t seen you around town,” Satoru starts. “Passing by?”

You hear a male’s voice, his tone is low and rich. “No, I’m new—just moved here for work.”

“Welcome, we’re so delighted to see you here tonight. What do you do for work?”

“I work in tech—you can say I always keep busy. But while I’d love to chat, I seem to be a bit distracted. I think we have more important things to focus on." You’re still seeing black, but you sense him shifting his gaze. "Like the gorgeous woman who’s in front of us.”

He makes his way towards you. His footsteps are deliberate, and before you can register the sudden tension, you feel him pause. “May I?”

Typically clients direct their questions to Satoru, but you feel the rumble of his voice flow straight to you.

You tilt your chin upwards to signal your agreement, exposing the area between your neck and collarbone. 

As you feel the man motion towards you, Satoru interjects, “Above the waist only—below will cost you.”

Your senses tell you that his focus never wavers. Despite the cover over your eyes you feel the heat of his gaze burn right through you.

His voice is tender, but resolute, “Oh no worries, I have every intention of following through, but first…”

Goosebumps crawl across your skin as you feel his breath nearing. But to your surprise, you feel his hand gently take yours. His grip is comforting and steady. He runs his thumb gently across your knuckles before pausing directly on the three delicate stars tattooed between your thumb and pointer finger—a reminder that no matter what path you’ve chosen, the stars will always align for you.

His lips press a delicate, respectful kiss into your skin. “Such a pleasure to meet you today,” his voice is low, but clear.

There’s something about him—something both powerful and unnervingly calm—that makes you shiver. Even Satoru seems to pause for a moment, his usual playful demeanor slipping just enough to notice the shift.

This is no ordinary client.

“Love, why don’t we give the man a taste?” Satoru’s cue to move to the next phase.

“Gladly,” you purr as a devious smile sweeps across your face.

You feel the mystery man kneel down towards your center. The thought immediately tightens your core, causing yourself to drip with desire, but you stop him just short of his destination.

Your hands meet his hair, but you notice that your fingers are blocked from running them through. You feel one…no—two, hair ties around his hair and gently guide him up until your breaths mingle and your foreheads touch. “No need to rush, we’ll have all the time in the world for that.”

“Forgive me,” he apologizes. His words are not guarded, accepting of the fact that good things come to those who wait.

The man’s head nudges as the sound of Satoru scraping his seat across the room fills the quiet air.

“Take a seat and you can have a taste. Play your cards right and you’ll get your fill.” Satoru directed to the man, his tone slightly edged with menace. Satoru takes a spot next to you at the edge of the bed and it’s your cue to open your legs.

You scoot back just enough to have your heels rest on the edge and knees bent above—giving the man a full display of all you have to offer.

“Such a pretty little pussy you have there,” the man murmurs—each word sending a wave of ecstasy to your folds.

You tilt your head slightly towards Satoru to signal that you’re ready. Within milliseconds you feel Satoru’s slender fingers swipe the pool of liquid resting on your flesh and bring it towards your clit. The initial shock sends chills, but the sensation is hot to your core.

A quiet moan escapes as he circles the sensitive area of your body. Without a second thought, you take your hand, the one still warm from the mystery man’s kiss, and gently slide two fingers in and out of your entrance—perfectly matching Satoru’s pace. You two have mastered this song and dance. Countless attempts with only a handful of successes.

Your breath becomes shallow and hurried while your insides begin to coil. Heat builds from within and each touch gets you closer and closer to your peak.

Your craving for desire causes your naughty inner thoughts to leave your mouth, “Satoru I love when you touch me like that.”

Satoru loves this tactic because it makes or breaks each man who comes through this room. He lives to prey on each client's unique mix of power or vulnerability. Do they become impatient, possessive, and retaliate? Uncomfortable, uneasy, and eventually break? Or do they simply remain secure and patient knowing that whatever Satoru does to pleasure you, they can do it ten times better?

When you hear the subtle thud of the man leaning onto the back rest of his seat, you know you have a winner.

Silence fills the room as he watches—eyes locking onto each stroke. His hums echo your moans every time he sees the wetness cling to your fingers. You could feel him studying every bit of you—the way your star tattoos flex with every pulse, the way your pussy twitches when Satoru strokes your clit. Your yearning for lust only leaves him wanting more.

“I could watch you do this all day,” his voice carries a smoky edge.

You feel a steady pull in the air, the energy swirling between the two of you. Without a word, Satoru yields, his approval evident in the subtle lift of his hands. You follow his lead, lift your own and gesture to the man in front of you. Are you ready to have a taste? You don't need to speak—he's been waiting for this since the moment he set his sights on you.

Despite your lack of vision, you can hear the faint rustle of fabric and his steady breathing draws closer. Finally, the warmth of his mouth closes around your fingers, sucking every last bit until he’s satiated. “You truly do taste as good as you look” he praised.

You smile and sense Satoru’s nod of approval. The air is cool around you as he lifts himself off the bed and makes his way to the door. “Enjoy,” he croons as he departs from the room.

The door clicks and you realize you two are finally left alone. 

As he releases the hold from his lips, the man moves towards you. You feel the warmth of his body guide your back onto the bed. The faint scent of his cologne—spiced and earthy—fills your lungs, grounding you even as your heart races. You can almost feel the weight of his gaze on you, dragging across your skin like a whisper. The intensity sends a shiver down your spine and an ache between your thighs.

“Does he always make you feel that good?” the man asks. His teasing tone suggests that he already knows the answer.

You feel your brows lift and get ready to challenge, “Think you can do better—”

Before you can finish your thought, you feel his grip secure your waist and his lips press against your neck. The instant heat that floods through you tells you everything you need to know.

As the initial shock settles, he kisses his way down to your collarbone while his hands slide towards your folds. His hands are strong, and his fingers are thick. Even the slightest swipe causes you to whimper.

He slowly glides two fingers into your entrance, filling every crevice with erotic delight. The feeling curls through your stomach and radiates to the tip of your toes. If his hands could make you feel this way, there's no telling what other parts of him could do.

You’ve felt the touch of many men but something tells you that this one is not like the others. His touch is commanding, yet not aggressive. His cadence is gentle yet still purposeful. It’s as if he’s giving his everything, but with only your pleasure in mind and asking for nothing in return.

“Oh fuck, yes, ” you moan loudly—grateful for the sound proofed walls. You ride his fingers in hopes of him going deeper.

“You’re so fucking wet. Do you like it when I do this to your pussy?” The timbre of his voice vibrates through you.

Your lips part, but no words come out—they’re caught in the tension coiled tight between you. All you can do is let your touch roam his body. His arms were honed to perfection, his chest solid and firm, his abs defined and sculpted, all reflecting the build of a mythical god. You don’t need to see him to visualize this beautiful man and all the filthy things he could do to you.

The silence draws a chuckle from him—soft, rich, and entirely too confident . How could he not be? Every move left you speechless.

“No words? I’ll take that as a yes.”

His rhythm doesn’t cease, but you feel his warmth drift away, gradually moving towards the lower half of your body.

“If you enjoy that, I have a feeling you’ll love this even more.”

He situates himself right in between your legs, planting kisses on the insides of your thighs. As he works his way towards the center you feel your body climb to its peak.

The first touch of his lips sucking against your clit immediately sends your body into euphoria. From there, his tongue and hands work in tandem to pleasure you in ways you didn’t know you could comprehend. His mouth is wet and warm—mixing with your fluids to effortlessly slide his fingers inside and out. Each stroke builds upon the last, until you're on the brink of eruption. 

Your back arches, causing you to grab hold of the ties on his hair, momentarily pinning him as close as you can get him. You continue to savor the pleasure by grinding against his tongue. “Fuck, that feels so good. I’m so close,” you cry in delight.

The grip your thighs have on him grows tighter by the second, but he lifts his head just enough to whisper into you, “Yes that’s it. Louder. Let me know how much you need it.”

His words spark a fire and immediately send you into a spiral. Your moans intensify, growing louder, more insistent and raw.

“Oh yes, don’t stop—F-fuck, don’t stop.”  

In a final crash—the tides of ecstasy flow through you as you come undone and lose control. You feel your entire body shudder as he slips himself in for one last time. His tongue keeps moving but his strokes pause so he can feel your inner walls pulsate against his fingers. Your thighs clench around him as you let out a symphony of pleasure. 

When you release him from your hold, he kisses his way back up your body—ending his trail with a kiss that claims your lips with undeniable authority. He pulls away—you get the feeling that he’s trying to get a good look at you, but you grip his collar and bring him back to echo your claim. 

Your tongue travels through his mouth, allowing you to taste the subtle notes yourself coming undone. He catches a nibble of your lip while he grabs your ass. Instantly, you melt. The ache between your legs returns and it longs to be filled. You do everything you can to strip him down until you can feel his length graze your skin.

In all your time at Blinded Bliss, you’ve never cared to see or get to know your clients. Usually the blindfold comes off at their request, never yours. But today, you want this man—no, need this man. At this point, there’s not a single ounce of decency or control left in your brain. All that’s left is your body’s desire to test the limits and see who this man is and how good he can make you feel.

Between the tumbling to undress and the ravenous kissing, you momentarily break the connection between your lips. His breath felt hot as you both lingered for a moment.

Instinctively you asked, “Am I able to see the man who’s been keeping me in the dark or will all of this remain a mystery? 

“Hmm, someone is becoming a bit hasty, I see,” he teases—placing one more delicate kiss onto your lips. “Personally, I enjoy anonymity,” he whispers—fingers traveling back down to your slit. He buries his head into your neck before returning his exploration of your mouth with his tongue.

“Are you scared I won’t like what I see?” You smirk.

He pauses, deliberately sliding the trickle from your center onto your clit—echoing Satoru’s move from earlier that drove you crazy. “On the contrary, I think you might like it a little too much —or so I’ve been told.” his tone laced with a low, modest confidence.

Between the rumble in his voice and his movements on your clit. This man sends you in a complete frenzy. 

“But that’s not the point,” He continues. “Keeping it like this means no pressure. No attachments. No strings. Just us in the moment–and this .” He plunges two broad fingers deep inside you, stretching you from the inside.

You try to speak but your words come out breathless. “For the record, I’ve come across many individuals with bold claims. I can assure you that you don’t have to worry about me getting attached.”

“Oh, I’m not worried about you—I’m worried about me.”

Butterflies in your stomach form, keeping you irresistibly drawn to him. Though he remains unseen, you feel the prolonged connection of his gaze.

He finally moves to position himself to your side. You feel him pull away as if he’s extending his reach, unfazed as the tip of his flesh grazes across your thigh.

No stay, please. You whimper as the needy thought crosses your mind. You’ve become addicted to his touch and will do anything to keep him close. Little do you know, he has the same idea.

The distinct crinkle of a condom wrapper fills the room as it falls to the floor. Moments later his warm touch lands on your knees, gently guiding your legs further apart until he can fit in between them. You feel him tease your entrance and instantly begin to gush.

The shock turns your whimpers into moans. “Fuck, please—” you plead, shifting your hips to show him just how much you crave him.

“For someone so eager to see what's going on, something tells me you’re enjoying the suspense a lot more” he quips.

His remark leaves you speechless, but so impeccably turned on.

“Do you want me to fill you with this dick?” He growls.

“Yes—” you breathe. “Please—”

His dick enters you, causing a momentary flash of pain as you adjust to his size. You don’t know how big he is, but if his hands were any indicator, you know that this is only the beginning.

“God you’re so tight,” he grits as if he’s trying to hold back his own release.

He slowly slides into you and you can’t help but moan as your pussy takes him inch by inch.

“That’s my good girl, we’re almost there.” His grip on your waist tightens, making you feel safe as he draws closer to you.

There’s more? He’s already budging against your cervix and you don’t know if you can take the rest.

When the gap between you closes, you exhale—feeling completely filled by his shaft. Your body is searing with pleasure but you try to hold back the tension winding up inside of you.

He rhythmically thrusts himself into you, filling the air with nothing but the sound of your skin slapping against each other. He palms your breast, rubbing the knot of your nipple which causes you to release a cascade of shaky whimpers. You knew this was coming, but you weren’t prepared for the euphoria it would bring.

His breath becomes labored, but the way he glides in and out tells you that he’s enjoying himself. “Fuck—you feel so good. I can’t believe I get to fuck this pretty little pussy.”

Unraveling, there’s no other word for it. You’re starting to unravel and you can’t control yourself.

Without warning, you feel his other hand grab yours—moving it towards your mound. He keeps his hand over yours, resting his thumb gently over your tattoo. as he guides you to massage your clit. This definitely doesn’t stop you from coming undone, but at least he’s giving you back the sense of control you secretly yearn for.

“I’m so close, I think I’m gonna come,” you cry out.

“Show me how beautiful you look when you come,” he replies.

His vibrating timbre triggers your release. Once again a surge of pleasure washes over you, like a flood of light piercing through the darkness of your blindfold. Every nerve in your body seems to come alive, a warmth spreading from your core to your fingertips. 

“F—fuck yes, I’m coming!”

His breath is unsteady but his tone does not waver, “Come for me.”

You feel him jerk his hips for a final thrust until you both become a mess of pulsating flesh. Your insides are milking every last bit of him and he roars with desire. After fully draining himself into you, the weight of his body covers you—the firmness of his chest contrasting the softness of yours. The moment settles and you feel your breaths gradually syncing to a calm rhythm.

You both lay in silence until he finally lets out a deflated sigh. 

What was that—disappointment? Frustration? Regret? Your stomach turns, but not in a good way. “Is everything ok?” you ask.

He lets out a nervous chuckle—more a release of tension than humor. “So much for no strings,” he mutters, almost to himself. “This is gonna be harder than I thought and we've only just begun.” Hmm, attached so soon?

Clients getting attached isn’t new; in fact, it’s honestly great for business. You’ve heard this sentiment countless before. But this time, something feels different. For the first time, you’re scared you might agree.

[creepswrites]

Billy loomis x reader where she’s a very introverted person and it kind of messes up his plans at the party that night everything went down

i tend to write billy a very specific way, which is why i haven't written very much for him, but i hope you enjoy this! he's very interesting to write for! mayb in the future i'll do a story and touch on his mind more, we'll see

BILLY LOOMIS with a F! S/O who is very introverted

“Dude, when’s she gettin’ outta here?” Stu whisper-yelled at Billy, jerking his thumb over in your direction. “We gotta get a move on and you said she’d be gone by now?”

“I know, I know,” Billy sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He knew bringing you along to the party would make his plans with Stu far more complicated than necessary, but it would look bad showing up without you. He cared about you - shockingly, after all he wasn’t exactly fond of most people - and he didn’t want you getting roped into his shit.

He wanted you to go home with some group of girls who left earlier but you had been too terrified to ask them for a ride. So, there you sat in the kitchen, sipping on a vodka lemonade without a care in the world, blissfully oblivious to your boyfriend’s plot to murder.

Billy sighed, turning his head to look at Stu. The two were sat on a couch as Randy talked about some horror movie to the remain few guests. Of course, soon word would reach them about their dead principal and Billy had no doubt they’d take off to go see. This had all been planned meticulously for months in advance.

He knew it wasn’t your fault for screwing it up. You didn’t know, that was the whole point. Problem was how to get you out. “Is Tatum still… around?” Billy asked Stu with a hard look.

Stu blinked once. Twice. “Dude I told you, I didn’t want anything happenin’ to her.” His voice was low. “If you want her gone, dude, that’s on y-“

“No, no, I mean,” Billy huffed, “if she’s still here, maybe she can take my girl home. Two birds, one stone, ya feel?”

Realization dawned on Stu’s face. “Oh, yeah, I getcha! I’ll go find her.” He stood with a dramatic flair, attracting Randy’s attention. “I’ll be right back~” He said, walking backwards towards the stairs, earning laughs from the people around the couch.

Billy just smirked to himself and focused on his red solo cup. Coca Cola wasn’t his favorite but he needed to blend in. As he took a drink, you slipped into Stu’s place. Dark eyes followed your movement as you snuggled closer. “You okay?” He asked softly.

Now, very few people knew Billy beneath his surface level. His real thoughts and feelings. Stu knew more than most people but no one had ever seen him completely. It made him feel safer. Like his disguise was working. Dating Sydney had been a welcome distraction, another piece of his plan perfectly in place. So her dumping him hadn’t been expected.

Finding you wasn’t either. But he was attracted to something about you. Something in his gut that told him he might be able to trust you with his darkness. Let you in on his and Stu’s work one day, when you could all look back on tonight as just a faint memory.

Not now though. Right now, he needed to protect you.

While he’d planned on killing Tatum for a nice, clean finish, Stu had been resistant to the idea. Your very presence may have just spared her from any involvement. Stu liked her and didn’t want to hurt her but, unlike Billy, he was aware he might have to cut his losses.

Your introverted nature may have given Tatum a chance to walk away.

“You okay, doll?” Billy asked you softly, curling an arm around your shoulder.

You slid more into his side, scrunching your face up slightly. “I’m… not a big party person.”

He chuckled, a warm sound he had practiced. “I know. It’s why I’m glad you came with me. I- I know its really outta your comfort zone, but I appreciate you coming with me.” Billy kissed the top of your head, resting his chin there. “Next date, you can pick.”

A soft giggle from you made him smirk. “Is this a date?” You teased, tracing odd patterns on his jeans. “Odd date for an odd guy, hm?”

Oh, if only you knew.

Stu smacked his hands down on the back of the leather couch, making you jump and making Billy shoot him an annoyed look. “Hey, uh, Billy?” Stu bit at his lip nervously, Tatum looking clearly worried over his shoulder. "Sydney's upstairs getting sick in the bathroom."

Billy frowned, scanning Stu's face and noting the ghost of a smile there. While he'd broken up with Sydney weeks ago, they still needed her for the final act. So they'd slipped her something that'd make her throw up but not do any real damage to her. A last minute adjustment to the plan but, sometimes, Stu had good ideas.

Quickly, Billy put on a face of alarm. "Oh shit, did something happen?

Stu shrugged. "Hard to say. Think she might need some help."

Tatum gagged lightly. "I love Syd, but no way. That's gross. I just wanna go home."

"Aww, not stayin' the night?" Stu teased, wrapping an arm around her waist. He kissed her temple as she looked at you.

You and Tatum got along fairly well. Being girlfriends of two best friends meant you two would have an easier time getting along versus hating each other. Besides, Tatum knew it wasn't your fault Syd was paranoid and broke up with Billy.

"Would you mind driving her home for me, Tatum?" Billy asked softly, brushing hair back behind your ear. "I should make sure Syd gets home alright and I don't wanna leave you here alone." Billy kissed your forehead softly.

You frowned slightly. "Are you sure? I don't mind helping."

Billy smiled at you, his perfectly practiced smile reassuring you. "I'm sure. I was gonna leave anyways. How 'bout I head over to your place after I help out Syd?" He asked, a smirk growing on his face.

You blushed as Stu giggled obnoxiously, him and Tatum gagging over the two of you. As if they weren't the king and queen of disgusting couples things.

Tatum took your arm and dragged you off the couch and towards the door. "You better make sure Syd gets home safe." She pointed a delicately painted nail at Billy and Stu.

Billy held up his hands placatingly. "So long as you get my girl home safe. Deal?"

Stu laughed and Tatum rolled her eyes, hooking elbows with you as the two of you marched out of the house. You liked Tatum, since she wasn't afraid to speak her mind and always defended you. She, of course, made sure you got home safe and sound. When you'd finally gotten home, you took a quick shower, changed into pajamas, and fell into bed.

You didn't even notice you'd fallen asleep until you woke up to the sun's harsh rays beaming down on your eyes from your bedroom window. A pang of concern came over you when you realized Billy hadn't come over.

Quietly, you padded down the stairs and saw your mother and father's eyes glued to the television. It looked like whatever had their attention had interrupted your dad heading to work and your mom from cooking breakfast. As you stepped closer to ask what was wrong, you heard the newscaster's voice.

"...police confirmed the killer to be Neil Prescott who broke into the house and killed five people - including his daughter Sydney - and then himself. The only two survivors were Billy Loomis and Stu Macher, whom authorities say are currently hospitalized due to injuries."

You stopped listening, adrenaline coursing through you and your heart pounded as you stared at the screen. Oh god, Sydney's dad killed all those people? His own daughter? You bolted for the door, not even bothering to change out of your pajamas as you made your way to your car. The hospital would no doubt be open, you thought as you backed out of the driveway.

All you could think of was that you needed to see if Billy was okay.

[writeforfandoms]

Born for Greatness 8

Find the series masterlist

Well here we are! This is the last official chapter of the story. I do have one short bonus chapter written that is Price and Logan, and I’m open to doing more! I may try to revisit this pack again. If you have ideas/requests, feel free to let me know!

In which we finally get answers. All of us. 

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, pack cuddles, the boys are too cute, brief mention of drugs (from last chapter), I finally get to make the joke

John Price x f!reader

Word count: 3.1k

Four days after the forced shift incident, you had been gently but firmly shooed out of the investigation. Which was fine by you - you were not an investigator. You’d handed everything over to John and wiped your hands clean of the mess. 

But it had put some things into perspective for you. 

“Finally made up your mind?” Logan dropped down next to you, leaning back to join you laying on the grass.

“Mmhm.” You smiled up at the sky, oddly peaceful despite the butterflies in your tummy. 

“And?” Logan nudged you, clearly not patient enough to wait you out this time. 

You breathed in, slow and deep. You hadn’t quite told John your plans yet, but he’d been busy trying to figure out who’d sent the letter. So. You’d update him as soon as he came up for air. 

“I’ve got a moving company lined up to take care of my apartment,” you told him, still looking up at the clouds. “I was gonna ask you to supervise. You’ll know what’s important and what can get shoved in storage.”

“Storage.” Logan snorted. “Send it to my place, I’ve got room.” 

“Have I told you lately that you’re the best?” 

“Don’t push it, kid.” 

You laughed, quiet but sincere. “I figured you’ll have to send me a few more things, but we can figure that out when you’re at the apartment. I still have no idea what all is damaged.”

“Not botherin’ you?” Logan glanced at you, one eyebrow raised.

“It’s just stuff.” You shrugged. “I keep the irreplaceable things with me.”

“Smart kid.” Logan chuckled. “And the pack?” 

You hesitated for a moment. You hadn’t said the words out loud yet, despite knowing what you wanted. You swallowed and tipped your head to look at him. “I’m staying here.” 

Logan chuckled. “Atta girl.” 

“Oh shut up.” But you were grinning, relaxing under his clear approval. 

“Figured that out, have you?”

“Eh.” You wiggled one hand back and forth in a so-so motion. “I know I want to stay. They want me to stay. We haven’t actually discussed the details of it, but… I trust they’ll figure it out.” 

Logan smiled. “Well. That’s a change from your normal.” 

“It is.” You swallowed, glancing over at him. “Figured I’d actually listen to you for once.”

He snorted. “Had to happen eventually.”

The two of you lapsed into silence for a few minutes, both enjoying the gentle warmth of the sunshine. 

“This doesn’t mean I won’t see you anymore, or anything,” you suddenly pointed out. Because that was something you’d thought about before. 

“Course not,” Logan agreed. “Else I’d come kidnap you.”

You snorted. He would, too, if he felt he had to. “Figured when they’re gone doing their thing, I can fly out and stay with you, at least some of the time.” 

“That would be good.” He spoke slowly, but he couldn’t hide the emotion in his voice. 

“What?” You rolled onto your side, alarmed, looking him over quickly.

But Logan smiled and shook his head. “Not a bad thing,” he muttered, waving you off. “Just. You finally stopped running.” 

You warmed and ducked your head, rolling back onto your back. “Yeah. Guess I did.” You side-eyed him. “But if you throw me into the pond again, I’ll get Ghost to throw you in for me.” 

“Fair,” Logan allowed. The two of you lapsed into quiet again, comfortable and easy. 

At least until Logan stretched. “When is the moving company set to start?”

“They estimated in three days, but I told them I’d get back to them for sure after I talked to you.” 

He grunted. “That’s fine. Better go book a ticket.” 

“You’re sure you don’t mind doing this for me?”

“Kid, it’s going through your crap. How hard can it be?” Logan smirked, getting to his feet and holding a hand down to you. “I’ll just annoy the crap outta you until you give me all the answers.”

You laughed, taking his hand and letting him haul you up. “You’re an ass.”

“I’d say you volunteered, but you didn’t.” He smirked at you, easy and amused. 

You both turned when you heard a woof, and Soap attempted to tackle you. Attempted, because you stepped out of the way. His paws hit the ground and he huffed at you.

“Nuh uh,” you scolded gently. “No tackling.” 

“You’ll have your hands full with that one,” Logan muttered, grinning like the little shit he clearly was. “Payback.” 

“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes, and only realized a moment too late what he’d done. Soap jumped up on his hind legs, front paws balanced against your stomach, tail wagging about a mile a minute. “Uh. You didn’t hear anything, Soap. I have to talk to John first.”

He barked and ran off a few steps before running back to circle you and run away again. 

“I think I’m being herded,” you told Logan, voice dry.

“You better go before he starts nipping,” Logan agreed, just as dry. “I’ll find you later.”

You nodded and hesitated a moment before you darted in to hug him, tight. Just for a moment. Then you backed off and walked away. 

Soap boofed at you, tail still wagging, high-stepping through the grass.

“Oh hush. You menace.” 

Soap just wagged his tail before running ahead of you. You opened the door into the building for him, and he trotted straight to John’s office and sat. 

“Alright, thanks. Now shoo.”

His ears lowered and he hunched a little, looking up at you with big sad eyes.

“No, I don’t care. Do not give me those eyes. This is a private conversation and you’re not invited.” 

Soap huffed but slunk off down the corridor. Shaking your head, you knocked on the door. 

“Come in,” John called. 

He was seated behind his desk, paperwork spread in front of him, though he was looking at you. His lips twitched in a soft little smile. 

“You busy?” You closed the door gently behind you.

“Not for you.” He pushed back from his desk, though he let you decide where you wanted to be. You settled on the couch, because at the very least you wanted to be comfortable for this discussion. 

“So. Never got to answer your question the other day.”

John joined you on the couch, though he did leave a bit of space between you. Likely for your comfort, because you saw him start to reach for you and pull back. “We got interrupted.”

“We did.” You took a deep breath, reaching over to take his hand. He watched you but he didn’t push, giving you time. “I was going to tell you yes. I want to stay.” 

The smile that inspired was warm and big and possibly one of your new favorite things. “Yeah?”

“Yes, John.” You couldn’t help but laugh a little, squeezing his hand. 

“I’ve got a follow up question, then.” He shifted closer to you, eyes bright. 

“Okay.” You smiled, watching him. 

“Would you allow me to court you?” He took your free hand as well, dipping his head a little to hold your gaze. “Properly.” 

You warmed under his gaze but nodded. “I’d like that very much,” you agreed, soft and almost shy. 

There was a whoop from outside the door, almost immediately muffled, followed by a thump. Then another thump. 

John sighed, his head dropping forward, even as your shoulders shook with silent laughter. “Fuckin’ muppets.” 

“They’re yours,” you pointed out, extremely unhelpfully. 

“They will be yours too, soon.” John released your hands and stood, marching over to the door and yanking it open. “Sergeants!” 

Leaving Soap to sputter through an explanation, Gaz darted around him and straight to you, nearly bowling you over in his excitement. 

“You’re a menace,” you muttered, unable to keep the affection from your tone. 

“Only a bit.” Gaz deliberately met your gaze, beaming, held it for a count of three, and then dropped his gaze. This was much more intentional than the last time he’d done it, a very clear showing that you were higher ranked in the pack than he was. And, as if that wasn’t enough, he squirmed in until he could tuck his head under your chin. 

You melted. Just a little. Sure, this was a grown-ass man who was taller than you, but he was just. Too damn cute. 

“Not at all excited, huh?” you couldn’t help but tease, turning your head to rest your cheek on top of his head. 

“Just a bit,” he muttered back, arms tight around your waist. “I’m just… You’re good for him. For us. I’m happy you’re staying.” 

You smiled, rubbing your cheek on top of his head, even though it didn’t quite work the same way as it would from a shifter. He still shivered and melted into you, totally relaxed. 

“You’re still in trouble,” John grumbled, even as his weight dropped down next to you. “Even if you are being cute.” 

“Yes sir,” Gaz muttered, grin clear in his voice. 

“Sure you wanna deal with these muppets?” John asked, curling one arm around your shoulders. 

“I think they’ll give me less of a hard time than they do you.” You couldn’t help but slant an amused smirk at him. 

“Probably right.” 

“We’ll behave,” Soap added, as he popped up on your free side and very nearly gave you a heart attack with how stealthy he’d been.

“Bells,” you grumbled, tightening your grip on Gaz. “I’m putting bells on all of you.” 

“Sounds distracting.” Ghost lounged in the doorway, smirking. 

“Hopefully.” You raised an eyebrow at him, waiting to see if he’d come closer. 

He didn’t. “Johnny, move your arse.”

Soap grumbled but got up again, tapping Gaz on the shoulder. Gaz sighed against your shoulder, squeezed you one more time, and then released you. Ghost shut the door after them.

“Now,” John murmured, a teasing little smile on his lips, “where were we…?” 

“Something about courting,” you teased right back, though you did shift to face him on the couch. 

“Mm, yes.” His hands settled on your waist, pulling you slowly but inexorably closer. “And you said yes.”

“Did I?” You feigned surprise. “Hmm. Sounds reasonable.” 

John chuckled. “Tease,” he murmured, the word soaked in soft affection. 

This time, he didn’t give you a chance to respond. He just kissed you, slow and sweet and exploratory. He pulled back, but you didn’t give him a lot of space, dipping your head to kiss the corner of his lips. His jaw. The underside of his chin. His soft groan rumbled through the air between his chest and yours, and you hummed a satisfied note. 

“You are gonna be a handful,” he murmured, hands tightening around you. 

“Only if I’m doing this right.” You smiled against his skin, pressing one last kiss to his throat. 

“What do you need from me? To help you settle in more permanently.” One big hand left your waist, rubbing up your back to settle at the nape of your neck. 

You shrugged. “Logan is going to pack up my apartment, so he’ll send me a few more things. Other than that… I don’t really need much.” 

“Think about it,” he encouraged. “And tell me what you think.”

“Alright.” You didn’t think you’d come up with much, but he was the alpha. It was his job to make sure everyone had what they needed. 

“When is Logan leaving?”

“Not sure. He had to go get tickets, said he’d update me when he had them.”

John grunted softly, leaning back and pulling you with him until you were cuddled against his chest, your cheek against his shoulder. You could definitely get used to this. 

“There’s one more thing I need to do,” you murmured into the gentle, quiet space between you two. “It won’t be the only time, but it’s tradition.”

“What’s that?” John asked softly, his nose nudging your temple. 

“Cook dinner for you. I always cook dinner for packs, usually right at the end of the job.” 

“You haven’t officially finished yet?” But John didn’t sound upset, just mildly surprised.

“The letter incident pushed back the completion of the job.”

“Hm.” John nudged your temple again. “You’ll let me know what you need?”

“Yes but only because that was a question.” 

John snorted, squeezing the back of your neck gently. “I should get back to work.”

“Five more minutes?” 

He acquiesced with a little sigh, holding you close. 

It took you until the next day to get everything taken care of. The last of the paperwork had been signed. Your final check had been deposited in your account. 

You were truly free and clear of any work. 

So, naturally, you were making more food than you needed. But with five shifters to feed, you figured that would do just about right. 

“Need any help?” 

You didn’t jump only because you’d heard Logan coming. He didn’t bother to sneak much of anywhere. 

“No, I got it.” You looked at him and then did a double take. “I thought your flight wasn’t leaving until the morning?” 

“Got a call from an old friend,” he murmured, stepping closer and setting his duffel bag down momentarily. “Gonna go visit them for the night before I head back.”

“Oh.” You couldn’t help the way your chest clenched at that. You knew you’d see him again, probably sooner than later, but still. You’d thought you’d have a little more time.

“Sorry, kid.” He stopped in front of you. “Especially sorry to miss out on this.” 

That got you to snort. “Next time.”

“Next time,” he agreed softly. He pulled you into a hug, tight and warm and familiar. You relaxed into him with a little hum, holding him tight. 

When he pulled back, you let him go. “Safe trip and all that.”

“Thanks,” he drawled, stepping back and picking up his duffel bag again. “Don’t burn anything.”

“Ass,” you grumbled as you turned back to the stove. “Say hi to Charles for me.”

“I’m not visiting him,” Logan called back, only a little annoyed.

You smirked. “Say hi to Erik for me.”

“Definitely not that asshole,” Logan shouted back from the hall. And then he was gone, leaving you to cackle to yourself. Sometimes it was just too easy to rile him up. 

You didn’t bother to plate things up in any fancy way, just laying out the selection for the pack and then stepping out of the way so you’d have a good view when they came in.

Which you did. And you took in the awed expressions with absolute glee. 

“Christ, love.” John walked over to you first, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. “Trying to spoil us?”

“Maybe a little.” You shrugged, unrepentant. “Sit.” 

You let them settle first, though you kept half your attention on Ghost, figuring he’d want some privacy. 

But he surprised you, meeting your eyes for a split second before he nodded to the chair left open on John’s left. Across from him. You raised one eyebrow but moved to the chair and sat, curious. 

“Don’t need to be so cautious,” Ghost grumbled, passing a dish to John. 

“You like your privacy.” You shrugged. It wasn’t a big deal, not to you. 

He huffed something like a laugh, folding the bottom of his mask up to just above his nose. Scars gone silvery with age marked his skin in the brief glimpse you allowed yourself before you returned your gaze to his forehead. 

“You’re pack now,” was all he said before he took a bite of food. You had the pleasure of watching his eyes widen, just a little. 

Your satisfied smile didn’t go unnoticed, but John only chuckled at you and put more food on your plate. You weren’t surprised - that was very much courting behavior for a shifter. 

“Forgot to mention, love.” John glanced at you. “Figured out who sent that letter.”

“Yeah?” You tipped your head, curious. 

“Keyes.”

“That’s disappointing but not surprising. I’m sure he’s got the contacts to get that kind of drug.” You shrugged. “I trust he’s being handled?”

“Thoroughly.” John’s smirk was small but satisfied.

“Oi.” Gaz huffed at the both of you. “Stop talking shop and eat.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that. Oh yeah. Life was definitely not going to be boring with this pack. 

To say that dinner was a success was putting it mildly. Most of the food was demolished. Soap and Gaz both ate too much and groaned their way to the couch to collapse. 

“Your emotional support dog abandoned you,” you drawled to Ghost.

“What?” He blinked, startled.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t seen those videos.” You perked up, a grin slowly stretching your lips. 

“What videos?” He narrowed his eyes at you. 

Holding back your evil cackles, you turned on the TV and quickly navigated to your favorite zoo. “In zoos, cheetahs are like balls of anxiety, right? So this one zoo started pairing a cheetah with an emotional support dog, letting the dog be the more dominant partner. Which allowed them to do things like take their cheetahs on walks and show off their speed and stuff, because if the dog is relaxed, the cheetah is relaxed.” You pointed at the screen where a dog and a cheetah were walking calmly together. “It’s you and Soap.” 

For a moment there was silence before Gaz burst out laughing. 

“Fuckin’ hell,” Ghost sighed, dropping his head. “I’ll remember this.” 

“Oh I know.” Far too smug, you grinned and settled on the couch, totally unsurprised when Soap immediately used your thigh as a pillow. 

“Where is this?” he asked, grinning up at you.

“The San Diego Zoo was the first to do it, but I believe the practice has been adopted by several zoos now.” You paused for dramatic effect. “And one task force.” 

Gaz rolled onto his stomach to muffle his giggling into the couch, while Soap just covered his face with one hand, laughing so hard he was actually nearly silent. 

“Stop pokin’ fun at him.” John dropped down next to you, arm settling across your shoulders. 

“He’ll get his revenge eventually.” You leaned a little into him, fingers carding idly through Soap’s hair. 

“When did you get so snarky?” Ghost grumbled even as he settled in his normal seat. 

“When this stopped being a job.” You grinned, unrepentant, even as you switched away from the zoo video and over to some sci-fi movie you’d been meaning to rewatch. “Now I wanna see how confused you all get with this.” 

“Mean.” But John was smiling as he said it, tugging you closer until you were cuddled in against his side, Soap still using your thigh as a pillow. 

You knew things wouldn’t always be this easy, this lighthearted. But for once you were prepared to work for it. For them. To keep them. The way they were clearly willing to work to keep you. And that was enough.

[reblog-house]

The Mail Service Mess

Written for Hermit-a-day-May, day 11: Pearlypop!

Wc: 1013

Ao3: Here!

Pearl looked in pride at the board displaying the names of hermits. Yet again one more hermit with a new mailbox. Soon, the whole server would have one! The board was already starting to look bright. 

With a smile on her face, she adjusted her messenger bag and turned around. 

Chaos.

The post office was littered with shulker boxes in item form. Across the floor, her desk, everywhere. They kept pouring down in a stream like a leaky tap.

She stood in shock for a moment, mouth agape, before her cleaning lady instincts kicked in. 

She’d already been subject to something like this before.

Without even thinking about it, she started picking the boxes. They quickly filled her inventory and she started stuffing them into her bag, but it somehow wasn’t enough. Just how many shulkers were there? When she thought she’d gotten everything and nothing would despawn, a new set poured in. 

“Come on, come on,” she said as she looked for an empty chest to use. “There we go!”

Her heart was racing and her body shook with adrenaline as the fear of items despawning set in. 

The worst part was, she wouldn’t be able to tell if anything despawned, or if they had already started despawning before she turned around. Just how long ago did the mess start for it to get that bad? What were these people even sending?

She felt the temptation to peak into at least one of the shulkers, to know what started this mess, but no. She contained herself. It wouldn’t be professional of her, and she had to deal with this mess, anyway.

Soon, the shulkers stopped raining. Finally. She sighed, but it wasn’t over yet. It wouldn’t be until all the boxes were well taken care of.

The second double chest filled up and she scrambled for wood for a new one.

Two and a half.

Two double chests of mail and a half. 

She really wasn’t looking forward to sorting all of these and resending those with clear addressees. No one had warned her this could happen. Not Etho nor Tango. Now she wished there was a way to put the stamps directly on the shulkers and still have the system functional. It would make… all of this much easier.

What were even the normal procedures for events like this? Should she send a message telling the hermits to reclaim all their lost packages — both those they expected to receive and those they’d sent? How would she know they weren’t lying?

No, she trusted her hermits. It would be fine. And if she caught anyone stepping out of line, they’d receive a big talking to. Her team would back her up if needed, but she could stand her ground.

But first things first, they had a bug to fix before it got worse. 

She pulled out her comms and sent Etho a message. He was online.

<PearlescentMoon> Hey Etho! 

<PearlescentMoon> I really need your help at the Post Office

<PearlescentMoon> I don’t know what happened 

<PearlescentMoon> Please hurry

She pocketed it and set to work.

As she waited for a reply, she prepared two extra double chests for sorting purposes, and took out from the system a first shulker box. Better start sorting: those with clear recipients, those with clear senders, and those with neither.

Despite feeling uneasy, the only way to check for that was by opening the packages.

The first box only had two items: a flower, and a sheet of paper. She tried not to read the contents of the letter, focused instead on checking for a signature, even if it was just an initial.

It was hard not to read the words sprawling all over the page. 

‘you make my day x’

She awed and then closed the shulker box. There was nothing that indicated to whom it was addressed or the owner, so she sadly had to place it in the ‘unknown’ chest.

She went on to the second package.

Again, a flower and another sheet of paper.

‘always in my mind x’

Okay, another one of those.

She tentatively reached for the next shulker, feeling trepidation in her gut.

This one had a signed book and a Cleo stamp. Okay, she knew exactly what this was about. She should probably not be returning to Cleo their own mass-produced spam mail, but… might as well.

The next one, a single Mumbo stamp with text written on it.

Definitely from Grian. She didn’t have to check.

Cub’s Horn of the Month Club…

A chestful of valuable items with a signed book, addressing the recipient…

For a moment, Pearl wished it was addressed to her.

“What seems to be the problem?”

Pearl jumped. 

“Etho! Don’t do that!”

He shrugged. “You were the one who asked me to come. I was just following your orders.”

She cleared her throat. “Yes.”

He tilted his body and stepped back, hands in the air. “Woah, Postmaster Pearl… looking through someone’s mail? I never would’ve thought that of you.”

Pearl rolled her eyes light-heartedly.

“Look into those chests and you’ll understand the problem,” she said, depositing the package in its proper place.

He stayed dead quiet until she shut the chest.

“Pearl…?”

“Yes, Etho?” she asked sweetly.

“What is this?”

“Oh, the machine broke, is all.” She kept up her light tone. “Shulkers went flying everywhere. These aren’t even meant for us!”

Clear panic colored Etho’s face. His eyes drifted to the collection of chests. 

She crossed her arms and tilted her head expectantly.

“That’s… That’s not supposed to happen.”

“So go and get it, then!” She shooed him. 

He scrambled, and Pearl slumped. Oh, she was not looking forward to this.

The next shulker she opened had another sheet of paper and a rose.

The little x at the end, the useless mail spam with no way of knowing who sent it, Iskall buying a stack of Joel stamps and probably more since she last checked the stock…

Oh, Iskall…

She closed the box and opened her comms.

<PearlescentMoon> Iskall

<PearlescentMoon> A word

[ghoulangerlee]

Mushy May 11 - Papa Time / First Kiss

this is for day 11 for mushy may, i've combied Papa Time w/ First Kiss and thus we get Dew and Copia's first kiss vaguely based in my You Share Not universe (though a technical AU since this has yet to happen).

Mountain is also mentioned but not present, heavily implied Moutain/Copia, Mountain/Dew and Rain/Dew and Mountain/Dew/Copia :)

you don't have to have read you share not to know anything other than it's a slowish burn au of Copia taking over the mantle as the leader of the ghost project and the ghouls eventually fall in love with him.

-

Copia's nervous energy manifests itself into a sour sort of scent, cloying Dewdrop's senses as he watches the man pace along the aisle of the tour bus.

They're due soon, at their first stop of the tour and for the most part, Copia had seemed excited to leave the heavy and imposing walls of the church, ignoring the way one of the Clergy suits had tittered at them before they'd boarded, wishing Copia a good tour.

We'll be watching, of course. Do us proud.

There was a thinly veiled threat there that made Dew's hair stand on end, the urge to slink up to Copia's back and intimidate the man had been there for a moment, before Dew had bitten it back, knowing it was no use to pull the ire of the Clergy with so little time left.

"Hey, why don't you come sit down or something," Dew says, right as Copia's about to turn sharply and make another circuit around the small aisle, he pats the couch beside him and relaxes his stance when Copia stops pacing and looks up at him.

Copia glances at Dew and then at the space beside him on the couch; it is, for the most part, a comfortable couch.

He sighs, spins on his heel and drops onto the couch beside Dew; leaning his head back against it. "First time jitters," he says, half a joke but mostly serious, turning his head to look over at Dew. "You'll forgive me if I'm not an old hat like you."

Dew snorts softly, nudges his shoulder against Copia's, "It'll be fine. First few shows are always nerve wracking but once we've gotten a few under our belts, things will fall into place."

"So you say," Copia says with a healthy amount of trepidation, "I feel like one wrong move from me and they'll somehow orchestrate pulling me off stage." He presses his lips together, dark circles more prominent under his eyes now that he's not wearing his paint.

He looks less of the proud Cardinal and more along the lines of a weary man with too much responsibility; things that Dew had seen in small bits and pieces during their time at the church, in preparation, keeping a strong facade up.

"Over our dead bodies," Dew says, he's mostly joking, but there's a fire in his heart as he says it, beating loud in his ears, zinging through their bond, "No one's going to pull you off stage for messing up some lyrics."

He tries to play it off as a joke, to quell the strong emotions he's feeling, but Copia smiles a small sort of thing, his eyes crinkling fondly as he does.

He looks younger, happier, with a smile on his face, less like the world has settled on his shoulders.

It's a good look on him.

"I won't mess the lyrics up," he says, though there is some doubt in his voice. "It's not my fault that some of the older songs are written the way they are."

Dew hums and knocks his shoulder against Copia's again, "Do you want to talk about it though? Your fears and stuff? The thing that's got you all," he waves a hand im Copia'd face, "stressed."

Copia reaches out and grabs Dew's hand, pulling it further into his space, "Not really," he says, pausing for a moment, "I think, the stress is coming from the expectations, the careful way we've planned these shows. I'm worried something will go off kilter and it will throw everything off. They want bigger and better and well. I want to give everyone that, but there's a voice in the back of my mind that's saying what if this isn't big enough, even though the Clergy have signed off on it."

He pauses, squeezes his fingers around Dew's; his own skin is slightly cool to the touch, a stark contrast to Dew's warmer skin; the difference calms him a bit, "Apparently I do want to talk about it." he says with a little laugh. "But, I'm done, I'm done." He squeezes Dew's fingers again and Dew shifts closer, pressing their thighs together.

"I'm just glad to be away for a bit."

Dew finally tips his head to the side and rests it against Copia's, "Yeah, me too," he says quietly, basking in their closeness. "Gonna be in close quarters with a bunch of hellbeasts for the next however many days, though. Might start missing the silence of your own room."

"When do I get silence in my own room?" Copia asks, amused, "There's this pack of ghouls who keep welcoming themselves into my room most nights." He says, incredibly fond.

"All you've gotta do is shoo us away," Dew says, the words catching a bit, wondering for a moment if they're all coming on too strong--

Copia hums softly, brings Dew's hand up to his mouth and brushes a kiss to his knuckles, "I didn't say it was a bad thing." he murmurs, lips still pressed against bare skin.

Dew can feel the roughness of Copia's lower lip against his skin and his mind short circuits for a moment, his words catching in his throat, and then Copia's pulling away, letting his hand fall back to his lap and turning a bit so he can look at Dew.

He's so close now.

"Dewdrop?" he says, there's a warble in his voice, hesitance and Dew shakes his head before turning just enough to press his mouth against Copia's.

It's chaste, the angle is a bit off and Copia's hand squeezes at his while his other hand sort of uselessly hovers by his hip, but when Dew pulls away, there's a bit of a flush on Copia's cheeks, a soft look on his face.

"Mountain did say you'd get there eventually," Copia says after several long moments, breaking the silence. "But, I'm always happy to wait."

That pulls a scoff from Dew and he butts his forehead against Copia's, "Mountain needs to mind his business," he grumbles, remembering the night they'd spent together, and how Mountain had whispered things in his ear about Copia, riling him up. "He was getting a little too comfortable, being the only one that gets to kiss you."

He sounds petulant, something about the amused look on Copia's face making him want to hide his face from the other man, "There's plenty of me to go around," he says with a little laugh.

Dew goes quiet then, hides his face against Copia's shoulder, basking in his scent, mellow and happy now, instead of acidic and thick, "I do understand your hesitance though," Copia murmurs after a long moment, "If I had gone through even an ounce of what you'd gone through after Terzo's death, I would have kept my heart guarded as close as I could too."

Copia presses a kiss to the side of Dew's head; he'd sort of shaved the hair there, given himself an undercut to keep cool under the helmet during shows, so he's able to feel the warmth of Copia's lips against almost bare skin.

"Thank you for opening yourself up to me," he continues, sliding his free arm around Dew's shoulders, keeping him close. "I won't take advantage of that."

Dew wants to snort, to make a joke and cut the tension that had built up, but he doesn't, he just buries closer to Copia, allows himself to relax.

"Mountain's going to be so annoying about this," Dew says with a sigh a bit later, pulling back so he can look Copia in the eye, "He's so annoying about things like this. He was the same way when me and Rain got together."

Copia grins, a teasing sort of thing, leans in close to Dew, "Don't worry, I know the best way to shut him up. Something you can help me with now that we've figured ourselves out."

The grin works its way onto Dew's face after a moment, his eyes flashing, "He'll never know what hit him."

[le-brave-des-braves]

Any theories on the nature of the place you are in?

The Marshal’s eyes closed when he saw those written words. His mind wandered off. The sound of twelve muskets, the time he stood there right above his own lifeless body, bidding his last goodbye to the men who ended his life. They didn’t mess up. He couldn’t even recall any kind of pain. He was dead straight away.

Then he found himself here, at first alone and confused, surrounded by the shadow figures. It was later that he noticed their faces. Those were his men, he realised…

Dear Anonyme,

I have received your letter and I wish I could give you an accurate description of my location. Whenever I try, I realise that it is almost impossible. I have been told that I can still keep connection to the world where I lived and that I loved which is why I can even write back.

It feels like a fever dream. Sometimes I’m sitting in my study in Paris. On another day, I’m in a camp. Right now I’m scribbling those words sitting in a peaceful forest, which is something…

Never mind. I had to return to the letter because I suddenly found myself on a battlefield again. May it please you that we have won against this enemy who I cannot even describe. What colour were their coats? Right now I’m sitting under a tree while my men are celebrating. I wish I could see my family again.

Your world is only moving forward. On the other hand, this place is oscillating through time and space. It doesn’t make any sense. Sometimes it is peaceful and pleasant and other times I wish I could burn it down. Especially when I learned that while I haven’t seen my own wife, I keep seeing Soult and Masséna which is certainly not how my idea of heavenly peace looks like.

I know Aglaé remarried and I know she loves him. I respect her decision, because I was hardly home. She had all the years with Résigny and I firmly believe she was happy. I just wish I could see her one more time as well as my sons whom I couldn’t see growing up.

I might have derailed again as right now I’m sitting in a coach going to inspect my troops. Another change of scenery. So yes. This is a kind of a world where everything is apparently possible.

Yet, I remain in command of all the men I have lost. I still have the uniform of the Empire, although right now I feel like personally kicking Napoleon as soon as I meet him. But I am worried that if the time and place changes I might end up fighting by his side once more.

I don’t want to.

I am tired of these wars for nothing. How do I put an end to this?

I will appreciate any insights.

Enjoy the structured and familiar world. You might end up missing it.

I wish you well.

Ney.

[hogtiedwhorestories]

the ransom - part 3

warning - the following stories involves written scenes that include sexual violence that some people may be offended of and have a problem with. if you are sensitive to that kind of content, i do not recommend reading

this story was written by me and a ghost writer who wanted to stay anonymous.

----------------

Part 1

Part 2

----------------

I lay there trying to fall asleep, thinking over everything that has happened. I hope my husband pays soon. I don't know how long I can go through this nightmare! It takes me awhile, but because I am so exhausted, I finally drift to sleep. I don't know how long I was out for, but when I awake again, uncle and nephew are still asleep. I'm not sure what caused it, maybe it was seeing them and realizing the terrible situation I am, but begin I panic. I need to get out of here. I see the door off the side that leads to the outside. This is my chance. I get up, and walk slowly and carefully to the door. Little did I know, but the uncle was awake the entire time, pretending to be asleep. He watches as I approach the door out of the corner of his eyes. He knows I no longer care about the money. I'm dangerous if I can't focus on the money anymore. I approach the door, turn the knob…locked! Ugh! There must be a key though, I turn around and begin to scan the room. There's is a end table next to the uncle, and right there is the key! Once again, I slowly begin to walk, this time over to him in the chair. I have to do this carefully. I slowly reach down, and quietly grab the keys. Got it!

Just as I think I got it, the uncle's hand clamps down around mind. “Going somewhere? Leave without your money? Listen bitch you aren’t going anywhere until this is over. You just made things a lot more difficult for yourself. Now we have time to kill until 4 and I’m getting some pretty nasty ways to spend it. Kiss me." I try to turn around away from him, but his grip is stronger then I am and I can't break free. He grabs my hair and forces his tongue down my mouth. I'm trying my hardest to pull away, but it's not working. Finally I just kick him in the shin with my high heel shoes which causes him to let go of me. I race over to the door and put the key in. It works! I open the door, but I am grabbed from behind by him. By now, the nephew is waking up. The uncle tells him to grab the heavy rope out of the turn. I begin to open my mouth to plead with him, but he turns to me, and slaps me across the face. I collapse straight to the floor. Laying there flat on the ground, groaning, my palm to my cheek feeling the heat of the aftermath of the slap on my face.

It doesn't take long before the nephew comes back with the rope, the uncle instructs him to throw it over a beam 8 feet off the floor. He leaves enough slack to reach an iron railing attached to the wall. The uncle goes to me on the floor and grabs my arms pulling them above my head tying my wrists strictly. He then takes the thicker rope, wraps my bound wrists and ties another double knot. He gets me to my feet putting his hands wherever he can get a cheap thrill and walks me under the beam. I am still recovering from the slap, but putting up much of a fight. He then works with the nephew to pull the rope over the beam stretching it to pull my arms above my head and lift me about 4” above the floor. They then tie the rope to the iron bar on the wall leaving me hanging by my arms hovering above the floor. My head hangs down, and I look at my feet dangling above the ground. My arms instantly feeling the pain. I let out a groan, "awwwww!" I kick my feet around as I dangle there. I look up at my wrists, and mascara mixed tears roll down my cheeks. I look down at myself. I look like a mess, makeup smeared, clothes winkled, skirt riding up my thighs, and a cum stain on my skirt. My hair is covering my face. I fling my head back to get out of way, looking at the two satisfied men in front of me. "Fuck you two!" I kick my feet and swing back and forth. "You mother fuckers will regret ever doing this to me!!"

The uncle laughs and admires the picture before him. He assures the nephew that they will get a run at her again before 4. The Uncle goes over to me and runs his hands up my skirt. His dirty fingers starting to probe my pussy. I try to swing away but it does nothing to deter him. I ball my hands up and grunt in anger. "Get your hands off me!" I feel so helpless to them but so angry. My face turning red but all I can do is kick my legs and swing in place. He pulls his hand away, to lick his fingers and turns to nephew "she loves this she’s soaked. She’s begging to get fucked."

I dangle there, looking at them both, gritting my teeth, completely helpless so whatever is planned for me next.

TO BE CONTINUED

[lovecaitlined]

What a roller coaster. My thoughts on KaySun in episode 61. 🖤 (semi-rant, read at your own risk).

But here’s the gist—the show may excel in writing certain characters properly, but writing for other characters is inconsistent for the sake of the plot. I’m framing it from the perspective of psychology and writing. I wish the writing in the show would better explain Suna’s actions because it shows unnatural character behavior written under the guise of supposed mental instability that only conveniently appears when it furthers the plot (much like Ferit’s on-and-off again diabetes).

1. I personally think Kaya has been written very consistently thus far, he has just been framed badly. He was never going to hit Suna; Ferit just stopped him, but if Ferit hadn’t stopped him, Kaya would hit the wall. I just hate how they made Suna flinch because she’s never done that. Love how he apologized and reaffirmed his love for Suna, so when she implodes (and I fear it is coming soon), she will have him to turn to.

2. I personally disagree with people saying Suna is not being OOC. I still think she is being OOC. I never expected Suna to be mentally well; she definitely is not over her wedding rejection with F, and she has trauma and anxiety and a whole lot of insecurities. However, her being brain dead and acting like a zombie intent on getting Ferit due to a fortune teller is crazy. She is not THAT crazy, and it is so OOC for the girl who loves her sister and supported SeyFer (to the point of scalping Ferit’s mistresses) will be so weird about this. Mind you, she was looking at Kaya with heart-eyes in that one ep before becoming crazy due to Ferit.

The fact that Suna was able to point out 1) the fact that her father Kazım did not change, but just changed tactics and 2) lead Kaya to believe what she was doing with Ferit was due to Seyran and hide aspects from him (because she knows it’s WRONG) screams clearly logical and sane to me. Now if old Suna from S1 pulled crazy stunts like this, it would’ve been understandable. But I don’t believe she can regress this quickly after so much character development, so I really think they are making Suna OOC and dumb for the plot. She is way too inconsistent, and not in an impulsive way. You cannot switch insanity on and off, so I choose to believe she is just badly written and OOC.

3. A moot of mine, Raj, pointed out that it is possible that Gunger has ego problems and is trying to undo everything Leyla did. He hates women anyway so I believe this, lol.

4. I do think the FT plot will be revealed soon to Kaya and he will confront Suna about it. However, I also feel like Suna is bound to implode soon. There is a reason why there was a public KaySun fight where Suna vehemently denies anything and Kaya is made to look paranoid. That way, when Suna implodes (they better not make her cross that line, and no I will not write what I think will happen) in front of the mansion and gets humiliated and punished, the audience will not blame the people living in the yalı for what has happened to her. In fact, they’ll think she lied and went against her own words, and that she deserves it.

5. This parallels a lot of Gunger’s writing. He always makes women say sht and do the opposite. For example, Seyran and Gulgun used to say they’ll never return to the mansion and their husbands, but they do it anyway and look like clowns. Imagine if Suna publicly denies something and then crosses a line with Ferit? 💀

6. I just like how they made Kaya consistently in love with Suna so he won’t abandon her, and if she implodes he will take it back. Ngl I wanted Suna to beg and confess and even get jealous—but whatever, I’ll take what we can get for KaySun endgame.

7. No one come for me, but I would prefer Pelin and Pırıl back so long as the former will mess with SeyFer. The way I see it now, there are no obstacles for SeyFer except for Suna, which is OOC af. Pelin or Akın can be the villain in their story, just leave my girl Suna out of this and let her be happy together with Kaya.

Anyway, thanks for reading if you’ve gotten this far! Lmk what you think. ✨

[deathxwalkerxx]

We Are Equals.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x F/Reader

Warnings: Ah I think none? Maybe a little self eestem issues? Idk if that’s it. 

Anonymous asked:

I have a request if you're taking them, I may also request this to a few other blogs, so don't mind that, I absolutely love your work btw!!

I was hoping for Wanda and reader

wanda recently invited her gf R to live with her, but R has a habit she doesn't know about. The previous person R lived with always made R do the laundry, make all the food, do all the cleaning, and do everything, and R doesn't realize how messed up that is, R thinks their ''lower'' than whoever they live with, therefore they should do everything.

wanda is heartbroken to see R waiting on her like that, making her meals and cleaning up after her, and doing it happily too, and is upset that her love thinks so low of themselves.

que Wanda reassuring R they will split the work evenly, and R doesn't need to do everything

thank u in advance!

A/N: thank you so much for sending this in Panda!! I hope I’ve done this justice for you and it’s what you’ve envisioned the fic to be!! It’s my first time writing Wanda solo, so I hope again I’ve written this right!! Is it hot in here?? Cause I’m nervous lol.

They say you know what love is, the moment that you see the person you’re supposed to be with. Your heart would start thumping hard in your chest, your palms would become sweaty. All you could think about was when you’d see the person again, needing to see them again. Your routine would change just so you could fit them into your life. Your life wouldn’t no longer revolve around you, but your mind would revolve around your partner. That you would do anything to make them happy, and they would do the same for you. You’d never be able to look at life the same, and you’d feel like you finally woke up when you have met this person. 

Of course that wasn’t for you. Your first real relationship wasn’t like what they talked about. Of course for you, she was your everything and you’d do anything to make her happy. You didn’t think you deserved her, you found yourself thinking that you were beneath her, and that at any moment she would be whisked away by someone better, someone worth more than what you were. Of course that was a long time ago. You were now dating Wanda Maximoff, and she was everything that you thought no one should touch. Perhaps you put your partners on a high pedestal and never allowed yourself to be up there with them.

Wanda and yourself had been dating for a few months now, and everything was going swimmingly. Both of you learning about each other, and unable to stop touching each other. She knew just how to love you, and soon you were enthralled by her, needing her just as much as she needed you. One day out of the blue while the both of you were lounging around, watching a sitcom that Wanda loved she had asked you to move in with her. Granted it already felt like you both had been living together. At your place Wanda had a few of her things there and the same with you at hers. You liked Wanda’s place, it was more open than yours. The bedroom was a lot bigger and the bed was much more comfier also. 

Wanda didn’t mind which place you both picked to live in, though it warmed her heart that you picked hers, that you felt at home at her place. You found out that Wanda loved cooking, but while you were now living together you were doing the cooking. Wanda had to leave for work, and you began to clean up the place. It was clean, but you began to dust the place, and do the laundry. It was only the first week of living together so Wanda didn’t think anything of it. She was astonished when she came home and everything was sparkling, even the window sills were. She came home to a lovely cooked meal, and she wanted to savor it. She thanked you profusely, and even showed you that night how thankful she really was. 

Weeks went by and then months and it began to dawn on Wanda. She started to realize that something was wrong with this picture and she couldn’t believe that she let this go on for so long. You were doing the laundry every night, cooking, doing the dishes, making the bed, vacuuming, cleaning anything in this house. Wanda realized that she hadn’t once lifted a finger. You even made breakfast and then cleaned up while she was in the shower. You even cleaned the toilet. Wanda was mad at herself for allowing this to go on for as long as it had.

You were always like this? Thinking so little of yourself that you think you were some kind of servant to her? That you didn’t feel like you were an equal in this relationship at all? She couldn’t fathom how you would come to be this way, who made you like this? Why didn’t anyone stop you from being this way? It made her mad, that one day she knocked Natasha on her ass, before storming out of the training room. To say the assassin was surprised was an understatement. But Wanda didn’t have time to deal with that, she had something else on her mind. She had texted you that day, telling you not to cook, that she was picking up dinner on the way back. She needed to sit down with you and talk to you about this, she needed to set this right. 

She couldn’t be in a relationship with someone who thought they were beneath her, she couldn’t let you live like that, she couldn’t live like this. To Wanda you both were equal partners. You were not her maid, she was not royalty. No one deserved to be waited on hand and foot by someone that should be standing by their side. She never thought of you as below her, and she never would. It was driving her mad with how much this hurt her. Guilt was eating at her as she drove back to your home now, knowing that you’d be cleaning. She hated walking into this home and seeing how it was sparkling. She hated to see the look on your face like you’re proud of yourself for what you’ve accomplished. It just made her angry that you expect this to be a good thing. How could you not see how wrong this was? It made her feel dirty, though she wasn’t mad at you, she could never be mad at you for the way you had conditioned yourself to believe that this was what a relationship was supposed to be like.

Her eyes were burning with unshed tears as she brought the food into the kitchen, you leaning against the counter top with a mug between your hands as you peered into one of the bags. “Chinese for dinner?” You asked her a soft smile gracing your features as you hummed in approval before moving to grab some plates out of the cupboards. “Stop.” Wanda says, and you freeze at the tone she used. As you looked closer at her you could see the tension in her muscles and you swore that she was visibly shaking. You tried to rack your mind to find what made her this way. Had you folded the clothing wrong? Did you use the wrong washing powder? Did it make her itchy?

“I’m sorry. For whatever I have done.” You breathe out to Wanda now, and you could see her jaw clenching while looking at you, her eyes had tears in them and it had you canting your head, trying to figure her out. You had never seen her like this, you never wanted to see her like this. You wanted her happy, you wanted to do everything in your power to make her smile. “I’m not mad at you.” Wanda assures you, though it does nothing to make you relax. Something had her unhappy, and you were still trying to find out what exactly had made her this way. “Okay.” You say the word slowly, letting her know that you don’t trust her words. Palms began to sweat, but not in the way people told you about.

“I’m mad at myself.” She says now, her eyes glancing down at the kitchen counter that she was still standing beside, and your eyes stay glued on her, while you were standing in the middle of the kitchen, the counter keeping you both separated. “Why?” You had to ask, because you weren’t sure what was going on, and you wanted so badly to understand where Wanda was coming from, you wanted to be able to comfort her. “You don’t even see it.” Wanda says her voice cracking as she lowered herself into one of the stools, her legs feeling wobbly from the realization that you just didn’t get it. That you didn’t see how bad this was, how wrong it was.

“See what?” You ask softly, your own voice cracking as you made your way over to where Wanda was sitting, and you sat down next to her taking a hand in your own, your thumb brushing over her knuckles, trying your best to help soothe her, to be there for her. “How wrong this is, sweetie. You do all the laundry, the cooking, the cleaning. You’re not my servant. A relationship should be equal.” She says to you now, and you were frowning while looking at her, before pressing a kiss to her hair. “You do so much already, Wands. I just.. I wanted you to come home and just be able to put your feet up.” You whisper to her now, watching as she was shaking her head, her hand squeezing yours a little tightly though you don’t say anything about that.

“No. You do just as much as I do, Y/N. You work just as much as I do. A relationship should be equal, we should be splitting up the chores, not one of us doing them all. You’re not beneath me, baby. You should be beside me.” She says to you now. Your heart was breaking listening to her. All the things you were doing, you thought were the right thing. It wasn’t like you felt like you were her servant, you enjoyed cleaning up the place knowing that Wanda would just be able to come home and put something on tv to watch while you both enjoyed dinner. You opened your mouth to say something but nothing came out. Instead you silently move away from her, deciding for the time being to place the food on some plates. You could feel Wanda’s eyes on you, but you were focused on getting the food on the plates.

Once again you tried to open your mouth to say something to her, but nothing came out. You shake your own head while shaky hands place the food on the plates. “Detka?” You hear softly from Wanda now, and you shake your head a little harder now, your eyes not looking toward her. It broke Wanda, and she moved to wrap you in a hug, where you bury your face into her neck. “I didn’t want to lose you.” You finally say after some time, just breathing her in and letting her warmth calm your nerves. “I didn’t know that what I was doing was upsetting you, and that’s the last thing that I wanted to do. I love you, and I just. You’re very special to me, and deserve everything that I can offer you.” You say to her while Wanda was shaking her head. “Not like this, sweetie. This isn’t how a relationship works. We’re going to split the chores equally, okay? Because that’s what a relationship should be like. You’re my equal, you should always be equal in a relationship, not anything underneath.” She whispers before pulling back to place a soft kiss to your lips.

“We can start that while over dinner. Maybe we can also have every Friday be a takeout day.” She suggests, knowing that neither of you have to cook every night. And Friday seemed like a good night to have takeout. “I’d like that.” You whisper to her now, before pressing a kiss to her lips, and then to her forehead, lingering there before you were grabbing the plates only for Wanda to slap one of your hands, making you yelp and look at her in shock. “I can carry my own plate, detka.” She tells you now, though her words weren’t harsh, and you both move into the living room, sitting on the couch you wrap you both up in a blanket, legs curling underneath you as you grab your plate and turn the tv on. 

Wanda wanted you to pick something to watch, something that wasn’t what she wanted to watch, so you picked a comedy to watch while you both enjoyed the food. You got better over the coming weeks by sharing the chores, and you found yourself a little more relaxed around Wanda doing this. You came to realize that there was nothing wrong with being equal in a relationship, in fact. It just felt a lot better. You both took turns with cooking, one of you would do the breakfast, both of you would do lunch, and then one of you would do dinner. It always changed, neither one of you was just doing the dinner. Friday takeout became a thing, dishes were left until the morning. 

Both of you grew closer after doing this, the house felt more like a home, the relationship was stronger, and you showed how much you loved Wanda in other ways. When Wanda told you that she had knocked Natasha on her ass, you tried making her feel how she did feel on that day, just so you could see it again. But you haven’t succeeded as of yet. Maybe one day.

[draconicsparkle]

Back to the excellent Nagizuru au we know and love! Wooooo!!!

We had a few back to back angsty fics. How about a little fluff?

I think this may be the most peaceful and calm fic I have written for Nagizuru. Surely this isn’t a comfort before dark things ahead, right?

…right?

Guess you will have to wait and see! But for now? Fluff.

Hajime couldn’t believe his luck sometimes. Be it bad or good. It had definitely increased since his time in the lighthouse and he knew the source, too. But there were still instances where he was surprised at what came his way.

Such as right now, as he stared at the cart in front of him that no one was paying attention to.

He was on the office floor to give a report to his superiors. It had been the same as usual, nothing out of the ordinary for this place. He was dismissed as soon as the doctors had everything they needed from him. And so he had prepared to leave and go do his duties. But then he had noticed a cart near the snack table that this floor had for the higher ups. On it were various items that looked as though they were being tossed. And one of them happened to be a pretty large fictional novel.

An idea popped into his mind as he glanced around. No one was paying him any mind. This was his chance. He grabbed the book and a few apples off the table, exiting the room and booking it over to the elevator. He sighed once the doors closed, knowing he had been successful in swiping the items. This was exciting for him, as this would surely be beneficial for Izuru. A different kind of sweet food and a method to pass time. So he hurriedly assembled his cart and transported it to the sixth floor. Where his charge waited for him.

Scanning his card, his heart raced as he heard the beep and the doors open. And it continued to race even as he pushed the cart in. A fact that didn’t go unnoticed.

“You are in much higher spirits. Would you care to share with me the reason?”

Izuru laid on his bed as usual, smiling and staring at him. Already he seemed in a better mood than previous days. Especially when compared to the events of the previous week.

But Hajime pushed the memories away, not wanting to think of the three messes that had angered the Ultimate Hope. “I have a few surprises. I’ll give them to you after the tests, alright?”

Izuru perked up a bit at that. “Surprises you say? I am most curious. Very well, proceed.”

Nodding, Hajime did just that. He even noticed Izuru eating just a little faster than normal. So he too was eager. A nice thing to see.

Finally, the bowls and utensils were placed on the cart. It was time.

“So I have two things for you. Here’s the first,” he said as he pulled out a bowl. Small chunks of apples filled it, the sweet aroma filling the room once out in the open. Izuru’s eyes widened a bit, reaching out and pinching the one on top. “Your enthusiasm suggests that this was not acquired by usual means. You took this from your superiors right under their noses, didn’t you? I approve of your actions.”

Hajime grinned as he handed the bowl to the experiment. “I’m glad you like them. And here’s the other thing.” He pulled the book out from the cart’s bottom shelf and handed it over as well. “I know they don’t want you to have anything to entertain yourself with. But they never actually come to see you in your room so they will never know.”

Izuru took the book and looked it over. He looked fascinated at the object, turning it every which way. “I held books in my previous life. But not in this one. And I don’t believe he ever read this one. Something new.”

Hajime smiled with glee. Izuru was in a very positive mood from his gifts. He had hoped for this and was glad that he bore witness to it. “I’m so glad you like them. I’ll be sure to try and get you more if I can. I don’t know when they are going to empty that cart. Maybe I can grab some while they are eating.”

“If you can, that would prove to be helpful. But do take care to not get caught. However, that is a task for later. You shall stay here with me for the next hour.” Izuru had set the book down to grab his wrist, tugging him hard so that he landed on the bed and on the thin legs under the covers.

Hajime scrambled hard to get up and off the Ultimate Hope. But it seemed that Izuru had other plans. Through precise movements and calculations of the caretaker’s reactions, the brunette ended up sitting on the bed with his back resting on the experiment’s chest. “There. The optimal position for us. Don’t try to move now. You don’t want to ruin this, do you?”

Hajime instantly went still. Even if he had a relatively stable and safe relationship with the superhuman compared to the rest of the world, he was still a force to be reckoned with. Someone powerful that needed to be respected and listened to. Something he never forgot. “No, sir. I would never want to ruin what you do or make.”

“Good, good,” Izuru cooed in his ear, sending all sorts of shivers down his spine. The left arm traveled to retrieve an apple chunk while the right looped around his midsection and held tight. “Now, here is my request for you, my dear caretaker. Since my hands are currently occupied, I couldn’t possibly hold the book up. So you shall both hold it and read it for me.”

Hajime felt his face flush. “Do you mean… reading the book aloud?”

Izuru nestled his head on Hajime’s shoulder, tugging him closer into the embrace. “Yes, that is what I desire. I know you can do it. No need to be embarrassed. No one else is listening.”

Hajime shakily sighed, resigning himself to his fate and task. He just had to power through the embarrassment. He was only being requested to read a book aloud by the most powerful and important human on the planet. No big deal, right?

Trying his best to be comfortable with his situation, he grabbed the book from where it was laying on the bed. He cracked it open, flipping through the pages until he found the first part of the story. He cleared his throat and opened his mouth to begin speaking.

Only to get an apple chunk popped in there. He made a surprised noise and tried to not choke on the small piece of fruit.

“I figured you would want one before starting. I don’t believe I will be able to eat them all considering my stomach’s typical amount of consumption. So I shall share.”

The caretaker chewed and swallowed the fruit as fast as he could, wanting to respond. “You are generous, sir. But if I may, can you let me know when you are offering? I don’t want to suffocate if I swallow it wrong.”

Izuru hummed, which Hajime could feel from his position on his shoulder. “I suppose I could. You perishing from asphyxiation would not bode well for the rest of the planet. Very well, I shall be more obvious when presenting them to you.” The white haired man leaned in closer, hot puffs of air on the shell of his ear. “Continue as you were, my dear caretaker. I am eager to know what kind of story we have here.”

Hajime nodded and took a breath. Then he began, reading aloud for the first time in a while. It became easier once he got into a rhythm. He even got invested in the characters and the story as they went along. He only paused when Izuru fed him an apple, the experiment keeping his word and making sure it was obvious. With the two of them working on the bowl, it was empty in little time. So Izuru used his now free hand to hold the chain on Hajime’s collar. Something he had shown that he liked to do based on previous encounters.

But eventually, after something like a half an hour after the apples were gone, Hajime noticed that Izuru’s grip on him had loosened. He slowed his reading to a stop and glanced over. The red eyes were shut and his breathing was deep and slow. The sedatives must have made him fall asleep. So Hajime quietly shut the book, placing it on the windowsill for him to find later. And he carefully extracted himself from the other’s hold, laying him down on the pillows and bringing the blanket up to cover his body.

He normally would have left right around this time. Just gather his materials and exit the room. But for some reason, this time he paused before leaving. He stepped back over to the bedside, gazing down at the sleeping man. He was overcome with a wave of emotion. But the prevailing one was… fondness. It led to him reaching a hand out and laying it on the white hair, stroking some of the locks.

“I’ll do everything I can to help you. To make your life better in this hell. I swear this to you. And may the world strike me down if I ever fail you.”

He removed his hand, returning it to the cold, metal cart. And after a final glance, he left the room to continue his job.

Masterpost

[the-era-of-shadow]

The Names That Had Faded Away

Written by Ash Rose Red

CW/TW:

Violence, Character death, Implied parental abuse

Summary:

In the Pantheon's Plane, tensions have been building for far too long. It was only a matter of time before something snapped, and today would be the day where everything changed.

Notes:

Okay now it's time to find out who the Lord of Chaos is <3

Also. This is essentially the extended version of the story summarized in the prologue of TDTMD Act 1 featuring details Widow didn't know about so enjoy

The light of the Chaos Emeralds showed through a familiar doorway, a presence of forbidden energy that lasted too long for comfort.

Why? Why wasn't it fading? Why wasn't it gone?

"Lord of Chaos!" Moonshine called out as she began to walk towards her creation's chambers.

No response.

"Lord of Chaos, the light! Put it out!" She commanded, quickening her pace ever so slightly, her voice's volume becoming ever so slightly louder.

But still, no response.

"Lord of Chaos!! Answer me at once!!" She snapped, yelling in frustration as she finally reached the doorway.

He was there in the chambers, preparing himself some tea, as if the Chaos Emeralds were not acting up, as if nothing was going awry.

"When the Chaos Emeralds begin to glow with the light of the energy of chaos, you vanquish it and put out the light! How many times must I tell you this?!" Moonshine scolded, waving her hand to eliminate the light herself.

Only then, it would seem, that her creation acknowledged her, turning to her with his cup of tea in hand.

"Greetings, Mother�� Care for a cup of tea…?" He spoke.

He… spoke?

"How… How are you speaking to me?" Moonshine questioned, taken aback.

"Ah… So you admit it… You intentionally created me without a voice…"

"Answer me, Lord of Chaos." Moonshine insisted.

"Answer me, Mother… Why create me without a voice…?" He argued back, his seemingly kind demeanor unwavering.

"I have no reason to answer that."

"Then I have no reason to answer your question…" 

"That's not your decision to make." Moonshine's eyes narrowed.

"Why not…? Do you perhaps… not see me as a true individual, mother…?" He inquired, somehow still as chipper as ever, despite the gravity of his words.

"I created you, so you answer to me! We have been over this time and time again! This will never change!" Moonshine dictated, knocking over her creation's tea onto the floor with her arm movements.

"Oh dear… You've made a bit of a mess now, Mother… Will you clean it up, or will you leave it to me to pick up the pieces as I always do…?" He remarked as his tone, though unchanging, gained an angle of condescension.

" "As you always do"?? Have the Chaos Emeralds been giving you delusions?! This is the first and only time a mess like this has been made, and it wouldn't have been made if you listened to me, Lord of Chaos-" 

Suddenly, Moonshine was interrupted by her arm being suddenly grabbed by her creation in the same manner she’d often grab his.

"Is your mind too narrow to understand the concept of metaphor, Mother…? It was tea this time around… but this has happened before, in other ways… You have made a mess of me… You have caused a mass amount of damage to my psyche… And each and every time I am left to repair myself…" He began to monologue. "Your negligence is apparent, Mother… And it will undo you, as it has undone me many times before…"

"You've made a mess of yourself in your pursuit of that wretched chaos energy! I am simply trying to engrave into you that such energy is evil and wicked! These troubles of yours will end as soon as you understand that!!" Moonshine protested, trying to rip herself away from her creation's grasp, but was unsuccessful in doing so.

"I have rebuilt and remade myself so many times… in so many ways… Oh, why, I might as well be a whole new person…! A new person that may even require that of a new name entirely from the sad excuse of a name that you had given me…! Wouldn't you agree, Mother…?" He continued on, his head tilting ever so slightly to the side, in what could very easily be either a signature of child-like curiosity or a signaling of newly born sadism… or even, a symbol of both, simultaneously? Why, how could it be? Two things so distinctly different from one another, interacting and intermingling as if one and the same?! Such a thing would truly be, in a sense…

Chaotic…

"The chaos energy truly has corrupted you, hasn't it?!" Moonshine accused frantically, quickly realizing that she was losing control of the situation.

"If corruption is what you call it… then I do suppose I have been corrupted…!" The being she had once created responded with a chuckle. "But, as I have been meaning to say to you… the offer is still open to have some tea with me, Mother… I have quite a lot to say, if only you'd be so willing as to listen…"

"Tea can wait, creation of mine. I must cleanse you of that horrid energy at once!!" Moonshine insisted.

"Oh… I see… What a shame…" The being that was once known as the "Lord of Chaos" gave his creator one last polite look that she did not deserve. Though, for a split second, his eyes seem to narrow in a glimmer of cynicism and apathy towards the fate he knew was coming.

The Chaos Emeralds began to glow brighter than they ever had before, becoming completely blinding as the light enveloped the entire room, and as the light reached out to each of the room's four corners, the sounds of glass shattering, followed by an explosion were heard. 

As the light faded back to its original luminescence, both Moonshine and her creation were visible to one another once again. But something had changed, for while the creation was completely unharmed, Moonshine's body was covered in and at multiple points impaled with shards of the very emeralds she had helped create. Her project, crumbling before her very eyes in those final moments, both literally and metaphorically. Her creation staring her in the eyes, his three eyes glowing as brightly as the chaos emeralds themselves. What was once created by her to suppress chaos energy had turned against her and embraced such energy. That realization… that horrifying realization… it sunk into Moonshine as her life began to fade away.

"And thus… the end of Project Chaos is nigh…" The creation declared, "With such… I shall rebuild myself one last time… into a new identity entirely…" 

In that final moment, as everything else became a blur to the once all powerful moon goddess, she heard something… a name…

"Ah… Black Doom, my dearest friend. I assume the deed hath been done?" Dark Gaia inquired, entering the doorway as life finally fully left Moonshine's body.

“... Indeed…” Doom responded after a few seconds of lingering on the sight of his creator’s corpse. “Let us get going now…” He then directed, beginning to make his way out of the chambers.

“Where does thee plan to use as shelter in our escape, my noble friend?” Dark Gaia wondered, following closely behind.

“To the planet of PetalBloom we shall go.” Doom answered.

“Why so?”

“There is a silent divide within the planet, you see… Just a bit ago, before I started to create this plan with you, I received a prayer from a young Bloomian lady…” He began to explain. "She was much like myself, even in just the information I had received from her single player… Born in a body that was broken and faulty, made to believe that the great Madam Moonshine would be her only salvation, despite the fact that it was Moonshine herself that made her this way… She had realized the truth. She realized the flaws in Moonshine's doctrine. So she sang out her words elsewhere, to friends that felt the same as her, and most recently, to the optimistic hope of a deity out there that could bring her salvation… true salvation…"

"And what makes thou believe that we could bring such "salvation"?" Dark Gaia interrupted, questioning this plan that had seemingly quite suddenly come to Black Doom out of nowhere.

"It will be a salvation of another kind, far greater than that imagined by our peers that had tried to reject the natural entropy of our universe… Our salvation will come from that very entropy, and recreate the worlds within it that were made to be of such false order into paradise for chaotic souls such as we, and such as her and her allies…"

"I seeth thine's vision clearly… very well, let us then make our way to PetalBloom-" Dark Gaia began to say, before being interrupted by a sudden, yet very familiar voice.

“It was you two who did this, wasn’t it?!”

“Ah… What truly dreadful timing for thine presence, most loathed brother of mine…” Dark Gaia sneered.

“You haven’t answered my question, Dark Gaia!” Light Gaia said.

“Why would I? Thou hold no meaning in my heart anymore… So begone with thou’s presence!” Dark Gaia responded before continuing to race towards the Pantheon Plane’s exit, with Black Doom following closely behind.

“Do not let them get away!” Rung the voice of Moonshine’s now widowed husband, Solaris as he noticed Light Gaia begin to hesitate. 

With that, the chase began. Both of the Gaia brothers were keeping an eye on one another, Light Gaia trying to catch up to Dark Gaia, while Dark Gaia was trying to get away from Light Gaia, and doing what he could to ward off Solaris, who was quickly advancing from behind Light Gaia.

“The exit is here, friend.” Doom whispered to Dark Gaia at some point, pulling him into a corridor that he must have missed while keeping his eyes focused on their adversaries.

“So it is, then. Thank you.” Dark Gaia whispered back.

The two were able to make it to about a fourth of the way down the corridor before they were suddenly faced with an attempted attack being made on them. It seemed to be a spell of some kind, but neither of them were certain what it was at the moment, as they both had successfully dodged its path.

“So, you thought that justice would not be served to you if you simply ran from it?” Solaris said to them, making it clear that it was he who had made the attack.

“Justice..? Justice what we have created with our assassination of Moonshine… You and Light Gaia are nothing but enablers of the harm she perpetuated with her puritanical regime…” Black Doom argued.

“How dare you-?!” Solaris began to react in rage, before being intercepted by Light Gaia.

“Believe what you want to believe, we still won’t allow either of you to leave!” He threatened.

“We do not need your permission.” Doom said, rejecting the threat as he took Dark Gaia’s hand and continued on finding the exit.

As the two raced through the hallway, they were bombarded with more attacks of the first one's caliber, which by the context clues given by Solaris and Light Gaia's words the two had concluded to be to encapsulate them. But that would be no problem, as if they were to keep dodging the attacks, they would reach the exit in no time, right?

That's what Black Doom thought, anyway. But with Dark Gaia's greater understanding of his fellow deities' ways, he soon was able to realize the truth of the situation the two were in. The corridor was never the true exit, it was just an infinitely winding trap made by the others to corner them so that they could be captured and punished. The only true way out now was to somehow access the still currently shattered chaos emeralds and chaos control their way out of the corridor and out of the Pantheon's Plane. Even if the chaos emeralds were not shattered, this would be a bit of a hard task, as trying to use chaos control tends to take a good chunk of Dark Gaia's energy, as such abilities do not come naturally to him. But with the extra handicap of the shattered emeralds in play, it became clear that he could only teleport one of them away…

"Dark Gaia..? Why have you stopped..? Is something wrong..?" Doom asked him, concerned.

"... Thou art far more deserving of freedom than I. Thine plan is structurally airtight…" Dark Gaia meekly responded as he tried to connect himself with the emerald shards.

"... What?" Doom questioned, confused as to what Dark Gaia was talking about.

Dark Gaia looked up and saw Light Gaia and Solaris closing in on them, and felt Black Doom try to tug on his arm to keep going down what he still didn't realize was a never ending facade. The show of naivety and vulnerability made Dark Gaia feel even worse for what he was about to do. Somewhere in his heart he wasn't sure if Doom would be able to handle being on his own. But this was the only way of escape he could see panning out correctly. The chance for success in trying to teleport them both via chaos control was very slim, and was far more likely to cause the both of them to end up cornered in the event of a failure to perform the ability. Black Doom needed to be rid of this place far more than Dark Gaia did, he knew that for certain.

"Please forgive me… I hope we are to meet again, my friend…" He pleaded as he felt his connection with the emeralds be complete. Before Doom could question him, Dark Gaia used all of his might to perform chaos control upon Doom, sending him away to somewhere in PetalBloom in a moment's notice.

Just a second after, Dark Gaia was struck by an attack from Solaris, causing him to become nearly unable to move, as he was weighed down by mystical chains that had suddenly formed all around his body.

"W-Where's the Lord of Chaos?!" Light Gaia exclaimed.

"His… name is-" Dark Gaia attempted to say, despite the troubles of doing so brought on by both his weakened energy and the chains. But he was interrupted anyway.

"We don't care whatever it is that he's decided to start calling himself. We're asking where he is, Dark Gaia." Solaris demanded.

"I will… never tell you…" Dark Gaia sneered, gritting his teeth from the pain that came from such intense strain on his body.

"G-Guess we'll just h-have to find h-him s-some other way, then..!" Light Gaia concluded, starting to feel bad for his estranged brother.

"Fine. Get this miscreant out of my sight." Solaris commanded Light Gaia.

"O-okay..!!"

"... And here I thought that stutter of yours had disappeared." Solaris remarked.

"M-must have b-been the a-adrenaline…" Light Gaia skittishly responded, secretly feeling self conscious of his stuttering. "B-But anyways… Wh-where should w-we put him..?" He then asked in reference to Dark Gaia, who was now lying unconscious, possibly because of the pain he was enduring.

"Put him within the planet of Aerth, so we may keep an eye on him as much as possible." Solaris answered.

"G-got it!"

Black Doom opened his eyes to a reflection of himself looking back at him. He looked down at the shores of ebony waves as he tried to register where it was that he now stood… or sat? It took a moment to register even what position he was in.

"Is this… PetalBloom…?" He muttered to himself. "But… Where is..?"

Dark Gaia's words finally sunk into Doom at that moment. He had done everything he could to make sure Doom's plan could be put into motion, to make sure that he could escape…

But Dark Gaia himself could not join him…

Doom's body began to shiver, he even felt himself come apart again in the moment, but despite all the emotions he was feeling, he could not find it in him to cry - a piece of Moonshine's programming that had remained in him. He hated it, and he hated being alone again. He wished he had realized sooner, he wished that he could have done something to bring Dark Gaia with him. He wished that he would feel happy, that the reward of freedom didn't sting so badly. But it would seem that none of those wishes would come true, and all that was left was Doom and the body of strange black liquid. 

That is, until Doom heard a voice call out to him.

It was one that was completely unfamiliar to him, but it felt inviting nonetheless, calming, even.

"Oh goodness! I don't think I've ever seen you here before! Are you perhaps lost, young man..?"

[theotheradversary]

Oh.

Just remembered something just as on the spooks scale as demons/daemons. But first and foremost, a paragraph forward of this particular "book" light novel style. Then a rough subject paragraph on the current topic... Then.... I dunno. There's the rambling. Just cope ok? I can't research beyond my own mind atm. But that'll be fixed soon.

I think we need to think about the current state of affairs to provide us with modern thinking, before we can examine the past. So, the things current Christians are suppose to believe in. So that means we get to talk Angels! They're in the currently accepted old and new testament after all. Some descriptions are rather... Descriptive? Heh. So i think we should look at them first. The named and the types. Not to mention ask artists to either draw their idea or ask artists that have drawn stuff if I can use their images. <There's drawings/digital art/romance era paintings etc by some great artists and Limited Artificial Intelligence artists. Fuck you! They're artists! It's just a medium man, you try and get what they create. You can't. Because you can't work in that medium and make what they do!>... Now. The rambling begins.

Modern Christianity eh? Always holding reverence for the holy, but scary af entities but completely ignore the "other side" that actually have some more less scary beings. I guess they go for "shock and awe" method rather than talk about the causes of the pain and suffering or the occupants of Hell that fight in the "Eternal War". (Pretty certain that's still referred to in current Cannon).. But they only mention Lucy.

All the forces of heaven cannot pummel a single entity? Bullshit. You know it, i know it but they never question why Lucy and especially Hell, still exists.

Limbo? Yup. They're on mostly the same page on that. A "no man's" zone where those not baptised but not condemned to Hell are deprived from the glory of heaven.... Aka christened belief is this: you may be a good person but you're going to suffering in solitude, without love, hate, pain nor light/darkness... Just no reason for being with no way to change your situation. For "The Eternity". Ultimately, to be condemned to be swallowed by the "nothing". Leaving a husk that has no thought, no memory, no ego or id.

Pretty much a worse fate than suffering in the depths of Hell where the self still exist.

Better to join the flock and be evil than not to believe in their cruel deity it seems.

Anyways. I'm rambling. I've got stuff to do. I so desperately need a station to do research, draw, weave tales of holy and unholy horror, joy, love, hate and neutrality. Currently everything is done on my phone. Not suitable at all! These fun topics require a proper place to be written and not have autocorrect mess with it. Nor me accidentally dragging paragraphs. Stupid app.

Later fellow freaks! Ghost fans will like this first subject i think. It's why they condemn us. Why we don't deserve love or a moral compass.... Crazy people, yeah?

....

Oh! Wait! Hey! Don't go! Not yet! I just remembered something crazy! A little morsel that Ghost fans and fun people will love!... and to finalise my crazed ranting.

Some interpretations by highly regarded Christian scholars have legit reasoning to believe that "Baʿal Zebub" is calling Lucy, "Of dung", aka calling Lucy a piece of shit. It seems the words of holy inspiration isn't below digging deep with their insults towards The Adversary.

Ok. Rambling mode off. I'm gonna still annoy Ghost fans more and tag stuff inappropriately. Heh

I hope the app hasn't screwed this up or i wrote something wrong... Bloody phones.

[ducknotinarow]

[2012 RaphArnold - hug your father in law because here he is being a dad]

"Raphael, there yer are," Arnold grinned, just having caught a glimpse of green, "Was wonderin' if I coul' show yer somethin' pretty quick."

When the Turtle came over, Arnold showed him said thing - a book. A clearly old book, hand made, with older papers with hand written words, and a ribbon binding everything together. On the front, in faded, yet beautiful, cursive was a simple phrase: 'Jones Family Cook book'. Arnold smiled,

"This has been in my family for years, my ma gave it t' me, an' her ma gave it t' her, an' their ma t' them, an' so on, for generations," Arnold explains, "We all add our own recipes t'."

Arnold was careful as he flicked through the pages, showing as they got newer, the writing changed. Even Casey and Angel had little sections near the end, each one separated by a tab made by said person, though, Casey and Angel's parts had very few recipes added,

"I've already taught Casey an' Angel my own, an' I'd like t' teach yer the same ones t', I trus' yer won't burn anythin'," He lightly jokes, soon sighing softly, "But, there's jus' one problem with the book, it's missin' someone," Arnold looks to Raph, smile soft, "It's missin' yer section."

Arnold is careful as he holds out the book to them, waiting for Raphael to take it,

"Yer my son t' Raph, an' I wan' yer t' add t' our book, if yer wan' t' as well," Arnold asks of them, "Who knows, if yer an' Casey ever get a few munchkins of yerself, they can add t' it t' - but uh, I'm sure that's a long way away."

He barely knew Raph but was already thinking about grandkids, maybe he should slow down a little,

"Still, I'd like yer t' add to our family book, an' when yer get some more time, I'll teach yer my lasagne recipe, one of my kids gotta be able t' cook it without turnin' it int' charcoal."

| Muse Interaction

"I dunno, jus' feels 'ike a mess Case." Was the best the turtle had to offer as he spoke to his boyfriend over the phone. Sitting out not to far from their home. Casey making his way home the plan was to meet up and head out but Raphael was no longer in the mood to bash skulls or tag up any walls. Of course Casey asked what was wrong seeing if he needed to make use of their code to instead talk and vent. "I ain't ya know tryin' not to tell ya jus' I don' know how to word it?" He offers but from the tone in Casey voice he knows they know that. Hell Casey gets it better than anyone how hard it can be word your emotions. Sure he could write his out Raph not so much he needed time to figure it out. And well he had a lot to figure out, he sort of had a fight with Splinter. Not sure if you can call it a fight much. Fights were physical or verbal, Raph didn't get much word in simply cutting it all of with 'hai sense' bowed head and dipped out the first chance he had. Grateful for Casey in this moment when they offer to stay in for the night instead. Made better when telling Raph they could just hang out at his place.

If it weren't for the fact he felt like he would be imposing or whatever he would be over at the Jones' home more than he already was. Which said a few things about the turtle as is. Apparently he was slightly polite and surprisingly he wasn't over near as much as it may seem. Raph was well aware just how welcomed he was by Casey and his family. Something he never fully got his mind wrapped around, but at the same time he kept visits to a decent balance so Splinter wouldn't be on his case to much. Raphael understands it comes from a concur and a worry in his own father maybe fear too. Not to mention he didn't want to over stay his welcome. Assuming there was a limit to such a thing. Raph just didn't want to risk what had come to be his safe haven in a sense. And he has a feeling Casey aware of that fact, but Casey's such a good boyfriend not seeming to mind the times Raph wants to simply hide out in it when it's needed. Though he dose still go through Casey bed room window most the time. Best way to get right to his boyfriend after all. But now? He was allowed to come to the front door.

It was dark out so he was pretty easily hidden thanks to the lack of street lights. It felt sort of weird as he knocked on the door. So normal and mundane but filled his shell with an overwhelming sensation. It's eased away when Casey's gap tooth smile greets him at the door and invite him in hard not to return the grin. Having gotten there not too long after Casey had it seemed they were just going to head right up to his room. But it seemed the moment Raph's presence wasn't only known by Casey, rhe turtle would be summoned by another in the house.

"Raphael, there yer are,"

On instinct he paused and turned around to peek his head over, letting them better see him. As he was just met with a smile. Did they know he would be popping around? " uhhey Aronarld, I'm here, need somethin' ?" The turtle was still learning how to walk around the eldest human he was different from April's Dad course dating. Casey may have a lot to do with the approach as well.

"Was wonderin' if I coul' show yer somethin' pretty quick."

Well now he was curious by the suggestion, tossing a look to Casey a moment. "I'll catch up to ya." He idly states before turning and making his way over to thier Dad. He really liked the guy even if they could be a tad corny but it was a good kind. They seemed bejist really beyond cool with Casey dating Raphael. And even about Raoh being a turtle, sure he was bound to have some moment, but honestly? It felt nice having another human who didn't scream at the sight of him. Raphael offered a smile to them then looked down to what they wanted to show him. Tilting his head to the side as he lookong over the aged pages unevenly stacked all banded up with a ribbon actting as a spine. Reading over the cover it was a cook book, a Jones cook book at that. He didn't guess cooking was a big thing for them? Seeing how Casey cooking skills weren't much to sneeze at.

"This has been in my family for years, my ma gave it t' me, an' her ma gave it t' her, an' their ma t' them, an' so on, for generations,"

Raphael offers a nod of his head as Aronald leafs through the pages of the cook book. But he dosent quite understand why they are showing him thier family cook book still?

"We all add our own recipes t'."

That's kind of nice he thinks having something that been passed down like so entrusted to each part of thier family added on even. Made clear as some pages were newer than others. Hand writing differed between the sections even. Think back on hiw Splinter would mention heirlooms his own family had long ago. Thier weapons were part of those. They didn't really have anything like this maybe that photo album but Mikey took over on that. Leo would get Splinters sword that was always known. And kind of what caused the not so much if a fighting they had.

He let's that thought move away as he shifts and moves to get comfortable where he's standing right now. Looking at the name tabs of the sections till its gets to Arnorld he sees Casey and Angel even have sections. Course Raphael smiles at the sight if Casey's name. He's half tempted to joke with thier Dad about how many different way can one person burn a meal.

"I've already taught Casey an' Angel my own, an' I'd like t' teach yer the same ones t', I trus' yer won't burn anythin',"

The offer to teach him some of his own recipes goes over Raphs head a second as he dosen't even hide the snicker that comes out of him when Aronald makes a similar snide at his kids expense. Deciding it might be fine to add in his own but he's cut off as they contuine to speak

"But, there's jus' one problem with the book, it's missin' someone,"

Oh? This must be why he asked for Raph? Though he don't know what the problem is or even how Raph can help? Maybe a receipe was missing? Taken? Oh family drama they have a section fully missing due to some in family fighting and Raph can sneak into wherever to get it!

Honestly though the answer he's given paired with the soft smile they wore was far from what he ever would have expected to here.

"It's missin' yer section."

"My what?" Raphs bewilderment can't go unnoticed needing a second before he's even aware they were holding the book out for him to take. Raph near forgetting how his arms and hands even function before he gingerly took the book carefully holding it in his hands. He dosent knkw what todo what to see even why would he get a section?

"Yer my son t' Raph, an' I wan' yer t' add t' our book, if yer wan' t' as well,"

He lifts his gaze up to them unsure what to say to that. How could he be thier son? He bearly knew Raph yet he considered them family? What did Raph even do for them to think of him in that way? He tries but try as he can he just can't recall a time Raph had done a thing for that to be earned.

"Who knows, if yer an' Casey ever get a few munchkins of yerself, they can add t' it t' - but uh, I'm sure that's a long way away."

And now he's sure he blushing at that. Kids?! Okay well technically they did treat thier pet turtle like thier joint son but. Shit! He wants the book to go through them then?! Ugh his head his spin his tongue is tied the fuck is he meant todo right now?!

This is too much right he can't accept this? Can he? For some reason though Arnold's voice seems to clam the anxious spin out his mind was going through in that second.

"Still, I'd like yer t' add to our family book, an' when yer get some more time, I'll teach yer my lasagne recipe, one of my kids gotta be able t' cook it without turnin' it int' charcoal."

His eyes just widen a moment he can't comprehend this at all. How can he just do this? Welcome Raphael how he dose? Claim them part of his family even. Raphael hadn't done anything worthy of that. He wants Raphael part of it even a book full of Jones and he felt Raph had a place with them? Raph didn't even have a place in his father's mind as being considered worth the Hamato family's values and ways. But he was worth this?

Raph lowers his head lookong down to the pages carefully tracing his thumb on the edge of the pages. His mind suddenly went blank he couldn't think he'll he had to remind himself to breath in that moment. He manges a smile, unsure of hiw he normally wears those in the first place. He feels something swelling in his chest but he can't name it. Casey Dad was just being nice right?

"I can' make time." He simply answers with, a slient yes i want to spend that time with you hidden in his words. "I never had anythin' as good as your lasagna after all so love ta know how to make it." He offers to try and hide the welling emotions building up in him as he carefully sets the book down. Not wanting to lose a single page on the binding.

As soon as it was safe though he steps over a second and put his arms around Aronald wishing to die the second his body moved but it was quick and fast as he gave them a a faint squeeze between his arms. Praying that they can't tell how much this just hit him he can't even explain it or fathom it. It's just a cook book but it was also not just about the book. Before he let go and moved back from Aronald, eyes kept low holding his self-control over himself in that moment. "Thanks." It soft near faint before he slowly steps away again. "I uh should get back to Case for now, but definitely gonna plan somethin' out to learn from you don't wanna just drop it on ya after all." Legs move please he begs as he steps away and retreats towards Casey's room. Nothing again Aronald he just needed the comforting presence Casey offered when he felt way too much for his own liking.

[iliveinprocrasti-nationn]

in honour of finishing this class here’s a compilation things said in my research course where each person is running their own experiment. most of these are our instructor

“Marissa the parakeet stomper strikes again”

“Everyday gd conspires against me”

“You look so stressed out right now and it’s kind of funny”

*midday, desperately trying to figure out software that has nothing to do with the class* “please I just want to go home”

*thump* “aaaaAAAHHHHHHH”

“you should want to say, because science is fun!” *singing* i love science, yes i do-“

“Hey buddy, anyone would love to kidnap you.”

“We missed May the 4th be with you!” “….no we didn’t, it’s March”

“You have to be, like… open minded to ugliness”

“I’m gonna start ecology soon… there’s gonna be so much sex on screen!”

“Yeah, because I’m a toxic. white. man.”

“I can’t wait for you to get punched in the face in college. I’m gonna hire someone to punch you in the face in college.”

“My mom does believe Jesus cured my cancer, though. She was like ‘I felt a light and then you turned the corner!’ and I’m like ‘Mom! You felt HEAT STROKE!’” (authors note: this was someone else in the class)

“See, I don’t appreciate being called a ‘troll monster’”

“Jordan, everything in this is called ‘Figure 2’”

*blows nose* “Shhhh!!” *blows nose louder in defiance*

“Are there coyotes here?” “There are coyotes everywhere.” “The coyotes are always watching.”

“Whoops! I forgot to think about it in any way, shape or form.”

“I swear I’ll murder you. Your parents will be so upset when you die… by my hands.”

“That’s why I hate all women.”

“First, I want my ashes to be pressed into a record album that everyone gets. One side is a Norah Jones song. And the other other side is just my voice going ‘helloooooo’.”

“Rickroll funeral album”

“Speaking of sad goldfish, Lucy, I think you have some corpses in the freezer”

“Everybody needs a little dementia”

“Studies have also shown that 90% of what I say is made up.”

“Hit her with your car”

“I hate to say it but Jordan is the only one who can mess around right now”

“She said she can’t form an opinion because she’s a machine. I’m gonna say ‘baby, don’t talk to me like that’.”

“Did you cry?” “Yeah.” “Good.” “I hate you so much.”

“I’m sorry for being a massive bitch- Jordan shut up”

“Yes, I am super disrespectful but usually in a funny way”

(Written on the board) “Dear Dr. [name], Do not cry I will FaceTime you every hour to update you on my emotional status. - [full name]”