#stop selling your eyeballs

[blue-happy-octopus]

The thing that you seem to be missing is that tumblr already harvests user data for profit, and that it will absolutely continue to do so regardless of whether people pay a subscription, because if they can make more money by doing both they will. They already see us as a bunch of chumps they can blackmail into giving them money, holding the old tumblr experience hostage and begging for money to save this site from UI changes they're choosing to make but portraying as having been forced. It's literally the same bullshit tactics the tories used to push austerity in the UK following the financial crash, just straight up lie about the state of your finances in order to generate more wealth at the top. It's this "we're all in it together" mentality when in fact what they want is for their users to pay them more without anything in return. There is absolutely no plan or announcement from tumblr suggesting they have any intention of using the new subscription badges as a means to stop collecting and selling data. The closest they have come to suggesting it is vague references to "keeping tumblr tumblr" - which is by no means a promise or statement of intent of any kind, it's an implicit threat to blackmail users into paying more to avoid their user experience getting even worse.

Okay, there is a lot to address here:

Be careful not to ascribe values to a company or assume lasting intent. Tumblr is legally obligated to value money and money only. If the way to get money changes, Tumblr will change. It's a company with investors, that means it's legally obligated to chase profits. It's not "holding features hostage" if it continues to prioritize the demands of the people that actually pay the bills, while saying that if the person paying changes, it will be able to prioritize user demands instead.

Not to be a bootlicker, but I can't actually find anything exposing Tumblr for selling user data. And since most of your user data is public anyway, I don't really see how that would work. I don't know for a fact that it's never happened, but I think you need to actually back up that claim.

Assuming they aren't selling your data, then their revenue stream for non-paying users is just showing you ads. Which isn't something they are capable of doing when you go ad-free. So they actually can't get you coming and going. You either go ad free and they get your money from you directly, or you pay by selling your eyeballs.

The above addressed, the main thing is that paying for a social media platform is a lot like voting. If you aren't doing it, you don't really have grounds to complain. And if you are doing it, then you do have limited but real power to rebel.

Let me put it to you as an example: If 80% of Tumblr's revenue comes from advertisers, and they decided to bring back porn, it would be financial suicide. There is nothing advertisers hate more than having their ads mixed in with porn. That's why they banned it and that's why it won't come back.

On the flip side: if 80% of Tumblr's revenue comes from users, and they decide to add a thing to their TOS saying any artwork you upload can be used to train AI models, it would be financial suicide. There is nothing Tumblr users hate more than AI art theft.

Who is paying the money controls what decisions get made. And if it doesn't, if Tumblr or any company ignores what the people paying them want, then the people paying them go somewhere else. Advertisers spend their budgets on Reddit and Twitter ads. Or users cancel their subscriptions.

Don't like Tumblr? Don't pay for it. Use an adblocker. Go nuts. But pay someone. Even if it's a platform that you don't use because it's not big enough yet or because all your friends are here or whatever, just make sure that you are putting some amount of money into the things you want to see in the system.

If you are not willing to pay for good and ethical social media, you are not going to get it.

some notes: I don't think Tumblr is the ideal social media. I think it's the most user-centric semi-major social media site that presently exists. When someone else does better, I'll subscribe there. I also don't like capitalism and this whole system, it's just the system that happens to exist and the timeline for overthrowing it is a bit up in the air, so we gotta do our best for now. I'd advise anyone interested to keep an eye on Lemming. It seems like a neat open source peer-to-peer ish social media.

[bet-on-me-13]

It's a Deal.

So! Steph is in a bit of a Bind. Literally.

Her Father had just discovered that she was the Vigilante who kept ruining his Plans, and decided to Deal with her. So he tied her up at a Bomb Site for one of his Plans and left her to die there.

No matter how much she struggled, she couldn't escape the Ropes, and time was running out. If only she had managed to get that last message out to Batman in time, maybe he would have come to rescue her.

The Timer had nearly reached Zero, when all of a sudden Time Stopped. The Ropes around her fell away, and a guy walked up to her as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

"Hey, you seem to be in a bit of a bind."

"Not so much anymore, was that you?"

"Yeah, bit of a Free Sample. See, I'm in a bit of a bind as well. I made a Deal with these floating Eyeballs, and long story short in order to keep my town safe I need to take the Soul of an Innocent person."

"And is that where I come in?"

"Yup, Basically I save your life, help you out with whatever you want, and you give me the rights to your Soul."

"What if I just walk away while time is stopped?"

"The building is Locked down tight, and I can't actually hold Time stopped for too long either way, it's sort of a new power to me. Without my help you wouldn't get out in time."

"So it's sell my soul or die?"

"Trust me,I don't like it either, but it's what I have to do."

"You know what, sure. You help me escape, help me take down The Cluemaster, and I'll give you my Soul."

"Then it's a Deal."

"I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship."

[starryeyedjanai]

Steve and Eddie meet through their local buy-nothing-sell-nothing group when Steve’s getting ready to move in with Robin and he realizes he can't keep everything he owns while trying to merge households with her.

The first time they meet, Steve hadn't even been meaning to actually meet the person picking up the free toaster oven he’s giving away.

He’s setting his toaster oven outside his house on the porch when Eddie hops out of his van to pick it up and it would be rude to duck back inside without saying anything since he obviously sees him coming up, so they make small talk for a minute and Steve has to keep his eyeballs in check because they keep wanting to rake all the way down this guy’s body.

He’s covered in tattoos and so extremely Steve's type, but he knows better than to hit on someone who lives in his neighborhood and is not here for that reason.

He laments to Robin about it the next day, about the hot guy who’s probably using Steve's toaster oven as they speak, who he’ll probably never see again.

Robin rolls her eyes fondly at him and tells him that maybe if he puts more stuff up for grabs on the facebook group, he might see him again, but Steve suspects she just wants him to get rid of more of his stuff so it doesn't overcrowd their new apartment.

The set of items he puts up in the group next is an old blender and a butcher block that has three of the knives missing—seriously where did those knives go? He has yet to find them.

He tries to pretend he isn't secretly hoping Eddie will comment under his post that he wants the items, but he isn't fooling himself when his heart literally skips a beat when the first comment is from Eddie. He messages him and tells him to stop by later that day.

When Eddie shows up, they talk for longer than last time, Eddie asking why Steve needs to get rid of so much stuff and Steve asking why Eddie needs all this stuff—especially considering Steve snooped through the group and saw that Eddie joined over a year ago and hadn't once commented before now (he doesn't mention that thought, but he is thinking it real hard).

Eddie laughs and says he was in the market for a toaster oven when Steve posted one and wouldn't you know it? He also needs a blender—the knife set is just a bonus, he says.

Steve tries not to read too much into it, but his brain is spinning the interaction around in his head for the next week.

He puts up a space heater in the group and within minutes, Eddie has claimed it.

“I should just get your number and text you directly when I find something I want to get rid of next time,” Steve says flippantly when Eddie comes by to grab it that night. “Instead of clogging up the facebook group.”

Eddie smirks at him and steps a little closer. He says, “Maybe you should.”

His neighbor’s car alarm decides to go off right at that moment, ruining the flirty atmosphere with its incessant shrill. They can barely hear each other over the drone of it, so Eddie leaves without giving Steve his number and Steve is left feeling like he keeps having these missed connection moments with Eddie.

In a fit of desperation to see Eddie again, Steve puts up a bunch of random stuff in the group the next day—a shoe rack that’s missing a piece, a step stool, a cheap side table he got from Ikea—and Eddie is still the first person to comment like he’s been refreshing the page, just waiting for Steve to post.

“I left without giving you my number last time and I didn't want to be creepy and message you unprompted,” Eddie says as they load the side table into his van. “I think I was overthinking things and then got kind of spooked.”

“It doesn't look like anything could spook you,” Steve says.

When they get the side table inside the back of the van, Eddie turns to him and admits, “A very pretty boy could.”

Steve can feel his face getting hot. “You think I’m pretty?” he asks.

Eddie nods. “Why do you think I keep coming here? There's no way a person who’s lived here for as long as I have would need all this stuff.”

“Did you need any of it?” Steve asks in a teasing voice. “Or were you just so blown away by how cute my profile picture is that you just had to meet me?”

“Oh, I needed the toaster oven, but everything after that was just to see you again,” Eddie says before biting his lip.

There’s an entire swarm of butterflies in his stomach when Eddie's hand brushes his, when Steve takes Eddie's hand in his and leads him inside his box-filled house.

Later, when they’re making out on Steve's couch—when Steve really should still be packing since he has to move in less than a week—he pulls back to ask, “Wait, so are you gonna put the rest of the stuff you don't need back up for grabs in the group? I feel like that would start so much neighborhood gossip.”

Eddie grins wide and Steve wants to kiss him again, wants to feel his smile against his mouth.

“Oh, we’ll be the talk of the town, baby,” Eddie says, pulling him back in.

[potato-lord-but-not]

HOW ARE YOU SO GOOD AT DRAWING SIDE PROFILES. WHICH OTHERWORLDLY CREATURE DID YOU SELL YOUR SOUL TO TO BE ABLE TO DRAW SIDE PROFILES SO WELL AND CAN I GET THEIR CONTACT INFORMATION.

ok firstly thank you but I’m legally unable to name the being I sold my soul to- HOWEVER I hope this little tutorial will suffice (and maybe actually help ya a bit)

1: start with a circle, and a rather imperfect square overlapping it as shown. The imperfectness of the square depends on the face shape you’re going for. The two shapes are the beginning of our head and jaw.

2: I like to work down from the brow to the chin. the top of the square is where you’ll be placing the bridge? top of? start of the nose, and the bottom of the circle is where you’ll stop and start with the lips. lip sizes and how far they go out can vary depending on the person, but generally the bottom lip sticks out less than the top. for the chin, make it curve back in slightly before protruding out to the same length as the upper lip.

3: neck starts from the middle of the square to almost the end of the circle, that’s something I usually just eyeball so you can do whatever feels best yk. and the ear fits nicely between the top of the square and the bottom of the circle, right along side the square.

4: eyebrow is placed where are little brow ridge(?) is, but can vary depending on expression, so don’t think too hard about it. for the eye you’ll want to start with the top lid, the front of the eye, and then the bottom lid, which makes kind of a leaf shape ?? the pupil will be like a quarter of an oval,, staying relatively flat along the front of the eye, and curving halfway until it meets the top of the eye. (ALSO if you were to have a more opened eye, the top lid would be level with the brow ridge)

and then the rest ? go crazy. also you can get a lot of variety I think with these basic rules like where the face placements go, which can be molded depending on the person, as so:

ummm hopefully this helps have fun with the side profiles girlies I’m so sorry I’m bad at explaining things 💔

[hazbinshusk]

Um, prompt #32 for Husk, pretty please? Maybe him getting possessive because someone was flirting with his doll? It's completely optional, but can you add more cat instincts and actions on his part, too? Da cat doesn't want anyone touching his mate-

prompt #32: a kiss while someone watches.

You take a sip of your drink as you crowd watch the latest mixer at the new Hazbin Hotel, observing the potential new residents with mild curiosity. These nights didn’t often seem to actually incur many new guests, but they still made for a welcome change to your routine every now and then. You smile to yourself as you watch a prospective guest back away from an overbearing Niffty, setting your empty glass on the bar behind you.

“’Nother one?”

Your smile widens as you meet Husk’s eye, leaning your elbow on the bar and resting your chin in your palm. He picks up a cocktail shaker invitingly despite the fact that you know he hates making more complicated drinks on nights like this. Still, you cast a glance over your shoulder before responding, mindful of your agreement to keep your relationship just between the two of you. “You spoil me, baby.”

He smirks, pouring gin, lemon juice and Amaretto into the shaker. You admire the easy, fluid movements he makes as he does it, fishing a bottle of simple syrup from under the bar and eyeballing the measurement as he adds it. “’s all part of my dastardly plan, doll.”

“Ooh,” you say as he separates an egg white into the mix and dry shakes it together. “You gonna have your way with me later?”

Husk shrugs a shoulder, feigning casual as he adds ice and shakes again. “Maybe.”

“Why wait?” you ask as he pours. “Pretty sure no one would miss us if we happened to disappear long enough for a quickie in the broom closet.”

He blinks and pink rises in his cheeks. He lowers his voice and his tone turns to caramel, seductive in a way that sends excitement straight between your thighs. “Oh, baby, nothin’ I want to do to you is gonna be quick.”

You flush and Husk chuckles as he slides the cocktail over to you. You try to hide your reaction by taking a sip of your drink, the sweet flavor teasing over your tongue. “You fucking flirt.”

Husk grins, his mouth opening to reply. He stops the moment you feel a body move up beside you.

“Okay, I gotta ask,” you turn at the sudden baritone, a wolfish-looking sinner leaning on the bar beside you. “Why haven’t you been in any of the commercials for this place?”

“I’m sorry?”

He shrugs, a playful smirk on his lips. He’s pretty good-looking, with broad shoulders and bicep muscles that show even under the silver fur covering his arms. “I’m just saying, you’d have sinners lined up around the block just for a chance to say ‘hi’ if they knew you were living here.”

“And how do you know I live here?”

He jerks a thumb over his shoulder. “I asked Angel Dust about you.”

You glance over the wolf’s shoulder, catching the spider’s eye. Angel grins, raising his glass in a mock-toast and gives you a cheesy wink that tells you exactly what he thinks is going to happen between the two of you.

“Uh-huh,” you say dryly, but smile anyway. It is kind of flattering, and as cheesy as the line he just gave you is, he isn’t actually giving off any bad vibes. Besides, Charlie was desperate for new residents; the least you can do is be friendly to this guy long enough to open his mind to her inevitable pitch. The last thing you want to do is sour the energy in the room after all the work Charlie and Vaggie have put in, so you guess you can at the very least be friendly. “So, I’m guessing this is you saying ‘hi’?”

He laughs, taking a seat beside you. He turns to catch Husk’s attention, pointing at both your glasses, despite the fact that you’ve barely had a chance to touch yours.

“Guess so.” he smiles, attention back on you. He didn’t even seem to notice the way Husk glowers, the soft growl vibrating through the cat’s throat as he watches the two of you. “So… think you can sell me on this whole redemption thing?”

*             *             *

You spend longer than you thought you would talking to Andris; his casual flirting was more friendly than lewd, and relatively easy to ignore. He seems to take your gentle rejections in stride, and you’re surprised when he stands and holds out a paw, an eyebrow raised in flirtatious invitation.

“So… what d’you say you show me around upstairs?” he asks suggestively. “Help me get a real… feel for the place?”

Your response is interrupted by a growl from behind the bar.

Andris raises a brow, his hand still extended to you. “You good, old man? Did I forget to tip?”

He sounds legitimately confused, but Husk only bares his teeth further with a hiss. You stretch a hand out across the bar as his tail waves behind him in agitation. Sliding your hand over Husk’s, you feel the soft fur quivering beneath your fingers as he gouges his claws into the wood. You turn your attention back to Andris, offering him an apologetic smile you don’t really feel. “Y’know, I think I’m gonna have to pass.”

“Why?” The wolf seems genuinely surprised, his tone a joking tease. “’Cause granddad’s gone all old-fashioned on us?”

“Listen here, fuck—” Husk begins, but you silence his insult by raising yourself off your stool, leaning over the bar and pulling him into a kiss. You feel his growl die against your lips as his anger is overtaken by surprise, and you ignore the part of your brain trying desperately to remind you that your relationship isn’t supposed to be public as Husk relaxes into the embrace. He wraps a hand around the back of your neck, his rough tongue sliding into your mouth.

His kiss is firm and possessive, the movements messier than usual as he stakes his claim over you. Still, you whimper into the embrace, and it takes you a few moments to remember to pull away again. Husk doesn’t want to let you go, and another warning growl runs through him as you part. You wrap your hand around his, your face flushed and your cheeks pink.

“Like I said…” you say breathlessly to an astounded Andris as you turn back to him. “I think I’ll pass.”

The wolf blinks once, twice, before a scowl mars his features. Another warning growl from Husk has him leaving without further comment.

“Well…” You clear your throat awkwardly, squeezing Husk’s paw. You notice Charlie on the other side of the room, eyes so wide and bright as she stares at the two of you that you’re surprised little cartoon hearts aren’t erupting out of her head. Vaggie stands beside her, a hand on her hip and what you could swear is a knowing smirk on her lips. “I think our secret’s out.”

Husk follows your gaze, his cheeks flushing slightly. “Was nice while it lasted.”

“Yeah,” you sigh, smiling. “Charlies’ so gonna make a big deal about this.”

“Yup.”

“So…”

“Fuckin’ finally!” you’re interrupted by Angel as he approaches, rolling his eyes dramatically. He takes Andris’ vacated stool, sliding his empty glass towards Husk. The bartender rolls his eyes, but releases your hand so he can fix him a new drink. “I thought I was gonna have’ta come over here an’ put the moves on ya myself if it meant the two o’ ya finally admittin’ you’re a thing!”

“You…” you stutter incredulously. “You knew we were…?”

“Toots, everybody knows!” Angel waves a hand towards the rest of the room, and you see Cherri raise her glass to you with a suggestive grin. “You ain’t exactly subtle with all the goo-goo eyes ol’ Whiskers has been sendin’ your way!”

“I do not have… whatever the fuck ‘goo-goo eyes’ are.” Husk argues, pouring Angel’s drink.

“Baby, you have no idea jus’ how bad you’ve got it for this one, do ya?” The porn star replies, patting the side of your face mockingly. He downs his drink in one, shooting Husk a wink. “But thanks for takin’ the bait with ol’ Andris over there. I was worried I might’ve actually had to pay out Cherri on you two.”

“You were betting on us?”

Angel gives you a look somewhere between dry and affectionate as he stands. “You gotta stop soundin’ so scandalised, sugar. Now do us all a favor and take your man for a ride; apparently, he ain’t gonna be able to mix a decent drink again ‘til he’s calmed the fuck down.”

“Angel, you son of a—”

“You can thank me later, Husky-baby.” Angel tells him with a wink, ruffling your hair as he turns to leave. “Jus’ go get some lovin’ already.”

send me a prompt and either husk or blitzø

[marlynnofmany]

Secondhand Solutions

Mur gave me a smug look, curling and uncurling one tentacle like a yo-yo. “Told you it was a waste of credits,” he said.

I sighed. “If those human ships were here, it wouldn’t be. This stuff is prime Earth nostalgia.” The small pile of items on the hoversled had seemed so full of promise when I’d bought it at our last stop: cat posters, harmonicas, and a dozen packs of googly eyes.

“Pity we’re far from Earth,” Mur said.

“Yeah,” I agreed, eyeing the locals of this alien marketplace. Lots of scales and exoskeletons. Not many hands that would appreciate the softness of a cat’s fur, and very few mouthparts that would be able to do much with a harmonica. The merchant I’d gotten the stuff from had been a Heatseeker all too happy to unload her stock of cut-rate human nonsense. These folks would likely have similar opinions. I said, “At least it doesn’t expire.”

Mur straightened the individually-boxed harmonicas. “And it shouldn’t take up too much space in your quarters until we meet up with more humans eventually. The captain won’t want to hang around here waiting for them to show up.”

“True,” I admitted. It was gossip from our last stop that had told me they’d be here now. I should have known better than to trust it.

“Well, back to the ship,” Mur announced. “Maybe you can cheer yourself up by decorating your quarters with eyeballs.”

I had to smile at that. “Maybe.” He was already walking back to where we’d parked, on the far side of an over-cultivated garden area. I towed the hoversled after him.

Then I caught sight of some locals who’d run afoul of multiple birdlike beasties, and an idea started to form.

The locals, a half-dozen Heatseekers whose scales ranged from red to pale yellow, were trying to eat a nice lunch at the dining section of the garden. The squawking bird-things, which were half-lizardy with speckled brown feathers and wide beaks, had apparently claimed the bushes for their own. They were contesting this claim by spitting at the Heatseekers every time their backs were turned. These looked like pretty gross spitballs, impressive for birds.

It occurred to me that I’d seen those feathery characters all over the place here. A look behind confirmed it; they lurked in nearly every tree I could see. And judging by the way the locals were abandoning this picnic table, they were a known hazard.

They still only spat at fleeing enemies, hiding or freezing in place when pinned by eye contact.

And that was my idea. “Hey Mur,” I said. “I’ll bet you one shanty sung on a table that I can sell some of these googly eyes right now.”

He stopped and looked around, full of skepticism. “To who?”

“Do you take the bet?”

“Ah, sure. There’s no way anyone here is interested.”

“You say that now,” I said, grabbing a pack and waving down one of the hurrying locals. “But you don’t know how we deal with tigers and magpies.”

“With what?”

I didn’t answer, busy as I was explaining to the local that the false eyes were adhesive, and would give the impression of eye contact from both directions. They were just as interested as I’d thought they’d be.

After a demonstration, during which I strolled through the picnic area and didn’t get a single spitball on me, the birds were unsettled and the locals were more than happy to buy everything I had.

This was a new colony town, you see, and no one had come up with a good solution for the annoying fauna that came with the territory. But these folks were prepared to make everyone’s day.

They certainly made mine. That was five times as much as I’d paid for the stuff in the first place. And they didn’t even want the posters and harmonicas.

I waved goodbye, but they weren’t paying attention, so I turned my grin on Mur instead. He had draped a tentacle around his pointy squid head in exasperation.

“I knew I shouldn’t have taken the bet,” he declared. “But I was so sure it was pointless.”

“And I am sure that whichever song you choose to regale us with at dinnertime will be delightful,” I said, tugging the hovercart around the bushes. The birds watched me carefully, noting the eyes still stuck to my hair, and leaving us both alone. “If it’s a song I know, maybe I can play a backup melody with a harmonica.”

~~~

The ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book. More to come! And I am currently drafting a sequel!

[tinfoil-jones]

Gravity Falls: For Your Own Good, Ch. 2

Summary: A few years after moving to Gravity Falls and having his lab built, Stanford Pines happens upon his estranged twin brother, Stanley. He mentally prepared himself to be suffocated by his brothers neediness all over again - what he wasn't prepared for was Stanley walking right past him like he didn't even notice him.

Rating: M for language, violence, and adult implications

Preface: Dialogue only, but some actions will be annotated for clarity. Cross-Posted on AO3 Here

Prev - Next

CH.2

"Don’t get me wrong, I stand in solidarity with all assortments of criminals, felons, and anyone who sticks it to the man, but damn do I hate being the man who gets stuck."

"This is for your own good."

"You're not the first kidnapper to tell me that.”

“...We’ll touch on that later. How are you feeling?” 

“Like I’ve been kidnapped by some delusional maniac.”

“...I meant physically. How are you handling your stitches?”

“They’re slightly better than the last set of shady back alley stitches I got. I thought you said you weren’t a medical doctor?”

“My fields of study are wide and varied, of course I’ve covered some basic medical topics.”

*Ford tosses a book titled ‘Battlefield Medicine and Emergency Blood Transfusions For Dummies’ into a drawer and closes it*

“Where are we, anyways?”

“We’re still in Gravity Falls, but in my research facility in the woods; right now we’re in my below-ground level lab. You’re in one of the containment cells I use for cryptids, monsters, and anomalies.”

“So, what, you're some kinda mad scientist? Are you gonna do some depraved experiments on me?”

“No, you’re staying there until you heal, and you admit you’re lying.”

“Lying about what, specifically? It’s a long list.”

“Lying about not knowing who I am. You’re only doing this so you can pretend you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“That does sound like something I’d do. Did I sell you something that blew up or gave you a rash?”

“What-? No! You know what you did. Stop playing this ‘Not what he seems’ card, Stanley-.”

“Why do you keep calling me that?”

“It’s your name.”

“Is it?”

“...What do you think your name is?”

“Stan.”

“And...?”

“And what?”

“Your surname. What's your surname?”

“Malone.”

“That’s your fake name this time? Stanley Malone?”

“Just Stan. I guess Stan might be short for Stanley? I don't think too hard about it.”

“It is short for Stanley. It can only be short for Stanley or Stanford and the latters already taken.”

“My ex used to joke around that my name must be Staniel... Heh, Rick you asshole.”

“Malone- Mr. Mystery, or whatever fake identity you’re using this time, it isn’t going to work on me. You’re a liar, Stanley Pines. And you’re staying in that cell until you admit it.”

“Ok, I’m a liar. Now let me out.”

“...No.”

---

“Last year Ma tried to call me and update me on whatever antics you were pulling at the time. I always hung up before she could try to get me invested. Is that what this is about? Are you angry I didn’t bail you out of whatever trouble you were in?”

“Last year’s a blur, PhD. But there’s nothing I did that a second mad scientist could have possibly helped me with.”

“I’m not a- second?”

“Sure you’re not a mad scientist, sure. You just have an evil basement sub-lab in the middle of some creepy woods. And you conveniently already had a prison cell with a one-way forcefield ready. And there’s a jar with eyeballs in it on your counter. A normal, sane scientist has all of these things.”

“Don’t patronize me, Stanley. I told you my specialty is anomalies. Of course I’d have a containment unit for anything human sized or greater.”

“And would a not-mad scientist miss their brother so much they go around knocking out and kidnapping the first person who looks like him?”

“I did not miss you-.”

“What happened to him, anyways? Did he die or something and this is how you're coping?”

“That- that isn’t funny Stanley!”

“And you’re a barrel of laughs yourself.”

*Ford gets up and approaches the cell, before reaching into his trench coat and pulling something out to show him*

“I don’t hate you, if that’s why you’re pulling this stunt. I still have this. I’m still mad, I haven’t forgiven you, but I never hated you.”

“Gee that’d be such a nice sentiment if I knew what the hell you’re talking about, and what that picture’s supposed to be.”

“It’s us when we were children.”

“Huh. Guess you do have an identical twin.”

“And that boat is the Stan O’War, we found it as boys and tried to fix it up. You always talked about sailing the world one day, and dragging me with you.”

“No thanks. I hate the ocean.”

“... What?”

“The ocean creeps me out, Doc. Really, any big enough body of water. They swallow you up, and you disappear. I wouldn’t sail the ocean, and I wouldn’t take some maniac like you with me.”

“... You’re not lying.”

“About not liking the ocean, or you being crazy as fuck? Because both are 100% no bullsh-”

“You… Truly don’t remember, you’ve lost your memory. Stanley, you have amnesia.”

To be continued...

[juni-ravenhall]

erissa introduction rewrite

this is written with the intent that players wouldnt have been told by sse that erissa is a dark rider, so we dont immediately know who she is. also it wouldnt take place at the current time in the story, this is mostly written to fit into an imaginary entire rewrite of the story. also, this is just some ideas off the top of my head, there are plenty other ways to rewrite it!

we're in jarlaheim and a cat runs past with a ball of yarn in its mouth, and this girl who's chasing it stops and asks us for help, almost crying, her yarn is gone. mc is like oh i will help you dont worry!! we race the cat on horseback (silly race with cat jumping on fences and stuff as we chase it), and get her the yarn back, but its kinda ruined now, and she sobs, telling us she's trying to finish a crochet project as a gift for her best friend, and she shouldnt have tried to play with the cat, shes angry at herself for letting the yarn get ruined, it was the last ball she had in that colour. mc is empathetic and goes like "wait! maybe i know some people that can custom dye yarn" and it leads u on a classic sso quest, talking to idk, farah, daxton, mrs holdsworth, collecting plants for dyeing, until we've made her new yarn.

as we do that, we're going around with erissa tagging along riding double on our horse - she comments "i wish i had my own horse, too! maybe i will crochet one!" and mc is like haha yeah thatd be cute :) and everyone else we meet for the quest just sees her as a sweet kid too and cheer her on for her project, farah talks about how great it is to create stuff and how happy she is to see kids doing handicrafts.

this questline finishes with erissa happy for our help, and we get a crocheted doll saddlebag pet from her as thanks, "ive made several of these, theyre my own special design, you can have one!". she also says, "this yarn we made together will be even better than what i had before, because its infused with your energy!" mc is like: um yeah sure! power of friendship :) (the item description for the crocheted saddlebag pet says something like "aww! this little yarn friend wants to come with you everywhere you go!")

later after other random quests (time matters! it shouldnt be immediately after! we have lots of other stuff to do around jorvik) we've met up with linda at her room in jarlaheim, first we talk some soul rider stuff, then we're going out to have a snack at a café, as we pass by jarlaheim's fountain, we see it has yarn art on it ("yarnbombing", aka yarn graffiti) and maybe some other objects have too, and linda is like "yeah, that stuff as been showing up lately, i admire the creativity and the skill it takes, but im not sure about doing it as graffiti. it looks nice though?"

we get to the café and as we sit down, we overhear someone at another table talking about that the yarnbombing problem is getting out of hand. their postbox was covered in crochet this morning and they couldnt get it open! "and i was looking forward to reading the latest gossip in the jorvik gazette, too!" linda and mc mostly think its funny and not a big problem. "maybe this artist will become jorvik's own famous street artist soon, and then that postbox could sell for 10k shillings!"

we might talk about some other soul rider related thing quietly at the café, but then we walk linda back to her place. as we arrive, though…. we notice that linda's front door has been yarnbombed and cant be opened without removing the yarn art. "um… maybe it is getting a little bit out of hand", linda says. there are moons and some other symbols in the crochet design, alongside crocheted eyeballs. "thats a bit weird, huh? its gotta be coincidence, but its funny there's moons on this… or could one of our druid friends be doing this? those eyeballs remind me of the scene in that episode of--" … so linda and mc take down the yarn, linda says she'll bring it inside and use it as a throw blanket if her cat doesn't get to it first, and we say bye for now.

after this, theres a few quests i havent planned out in detail, but basically, every soul rider get a crochet object thru different quests. alex' beanie gets torn during some other quest, and mc is like "hey i know a kid who can make you a new one!" - we go back and see erissa again. (maybe mc is thinking to ask her if shes doing the yarn bombing, but decides against it, since shes a sweet kid and seems so nice.) alex starts wearing erissa's beanie. erissa also tells us, "remember how i said i wanted to crochet a horse? well, i started working on it! i cant wait to show you when its done!" idk what objects lisa and anne get, yet, but for lisa it should be relatively easy to come up w something. anne is given something but maybe doesnt actually use it/keep it because it doesnt fit her style.

while doing various quests, we have those DC drone thingies spying on us and have to break them or get away from them. "how do they keep finding us?"

sometime later, we're with the soul riders investigating some GED or DC stuff in epona, it might be related to CHILL (tie in the rest of the soul riders to that plot!). we have races and stuff like, "race all the soul riders to x location" for fun during the quests. we eventually go to that toxic dump pond near crescent moon, and then into the village. as we ride over to talk to npcs, we hear "…it was one thing in the towns, but now there's a bunch of that graffiti stuff out in the mirror marshes, and its not good for the environment, the poor animals and plants can get caught in it!"

"whos doing graffiti in a swamp?" lisa asks, making a face. "hey, graffiti is the people's art, maybe it's the swamp monsters' art, too" alex says. pamela moonriver starts talking to us (shes met all of us before). "oh, im glad to see you all, there's a problem. look, my beehives were covered in yarn while i was making dinner! who did this?! i mean its nice handicraft work, but my poor bees cant live like that. maybe it would help keep them warm in the winter though?" "oh, we heard someone talking about graffiti. did they mean the yarnbombing?" we ask. "yes, its really becoming a problem, its showing up everywhere. would you mind helping me free my bees?" we help take the yarn off the beehives, pamela offers us some tea in the kitchen and we update her on some of our investigations (since shes part of CHILL) - maybe she gives us some new info to consider about what to do next about GED stuff etc.

as we leave, we hear an angry old man complaining loudly nearby. hayden is trying to rip apart a piece of crochet, failing, and just dumps it angrily in the trash instead. "you irresponsible youngsters with your stupid hobbies!!!" hes pointing a finger at us. "dont you care how this affects the eco system!!! no, you only care about your stupid 'fun'!!! pah!!! nonsense!!!" "uh… you've got the wrong person, we didnt do anything!" "well, that beanie (alex') looks exactly like all those stupid things showing up in the marshes, so i dont believe you!" (there might be more dialogue here but idc.) the soul riders already had some reason to check out the swamp, related to GED/CHILL plans/etc. its gotten dark outside but we head there anyway (or maybe have a reason to try to spot some suspicious GED activity in the dark etc). as we get there, we see big yarn "spiderwebs" on the trees in different colours, with crochet plushie flies with sad eyes - wrapped up in yarn, stuck in the web... crochet eyeballs covering rocks, a bunch of mildly creepy yarnbombing art.

i dont have super clear thoughts on what happens now exactly (i came up with all of this pretty quickly after all) but basically as they ride through the swamp, maybe nearing that one pandoria portal?, erissa finally shows up. mc and the others are first like, "oh wow, what are you doing here, kid? its you making all this!? i cant believe you did all this yarn graffiti by yourself!" erissa is like "hehe… i didnt! i had help from my… friends!!!" the little crochet dolls come out from around her and are moving on their own. everyone is shocked, "whats going on?! they're alive!" mc is holding the doll erissa gave us in our hand, as we watch it start moving, dropping it in surprise. "shes using some kind of magic… but im not getting a good feeling about this… could it be--?!" erissa goes, "my friends are so helpful, you see, they let me hear what they hear, see what they see… its important to have a network, isnt it?" (the shot has her by the yarn spiderwebs and with her dolls) "im so glad you treasured my handmade gifts! sabine always rejects my presents, she's so ungrateful." "sabine?!" alex pulls off her beanie and stares at it. "hang on… could it be, if shes with DC…??" "thats how they knew where we were! thats why those drones kept showing up!" erissa interrupts and goes, "hey mc! you know what? i promised to show you, and i finally finished it… my biggest project yet… my own horse!!!" dramatic shot of her getting on her crochet horse, etc. maybe there should be strings of yarn kind of sticking out from the horse and around erissa almost like tentacles or arms, it would feel more threatening than just a yarn horse. im too tired to think of more dialogue rn but there could be strings of multicoloured yarn starting to climb up the legs of the soul riders' horses, everyone goes, "run!!!" and then theres a challenging mini-boss race through the swamp. avoiding getting caught by erissa and her yarn creatures, the yarn spiderweb obstacles, and maybe we have an option to actually use magic, so mc and alex are trying to zap erissa's creatures as we ride.

i dont have energy rn to come up with more - the point of this rewrite was to show how you could build up meeting erissa and seeing yarn stuff in the game over time and over several quests, the way that most stories would to create intrigue and foreshadowing. lots of details could be changed, and maybe other dark riders show up after erissa brings forth her horse, maybe theres something with the pandoria portal in the marshes, etc.

[mrghostrat]

i know i just posted a long ass rec list but i remembered some more fics that are crucial for u to read

still not my last rec post. but here's ur new homework until i wake my kindle back up and sort through my reread list.

We're Both Of Us Above by obstinatrix

E • 3k • angel/demon (pwp) "I saw you once," Crowley says, in a tone which might be interpreted, by anyone other than Aziraphale, as casual, "with a Fusilier." my favourite genre of aziraphale. the best characterisation. incredible dialogue, flirty snarky bitchy "how could you sleep with humans but not with me" resulting in amazing "youre the only one i've ever loved" sex.

New Approaches by FeralTuxedo

E • 19k • human AU (professor/author) Professor Aziraphale Fell welcomes the attendees of the First Conference on New Approaches to Genre Fiction. Among them is keynote speaker and best-selling thriller author Anthony J. Crowley. Aziraphale has not seen him for twenty-five years. Sometimes, he can still feel the ghost of their parting kiss on his lips.

The Lines Between by Ginger_Cat

M • 21k • angel/demon (post armageddon) fucking exquisite out of this world prose i want to drink with my eyeballs. aziraphale notices something is wrong with crowley (love) but can't figure out why the current state of their relationship isn't enough for him. celestial, spirital banging. so, so many feelings. fucking delectable literary motifs.

Celestial Bodies by Justkeeptrekkin

M • 48k • angel/demon (1920s) pg wodehouse inspired fic where aziraphale has a human friend group that invite him and crowley for a weekend away in the country. it's so funny and delightful and the pining is agonisingly sweet, and i love seeing how crowley interacts with all these batshit humans aziraphale calls friends. i know i'm a jeeves & wooster feral but i can't recommend this fic enough

Man to Man by leukozyna

E • 62k • human AU (office) crowley is the token twink in a corporate office with a mad crush on his colleague. aziraphale seems very much to be straight, but after striking up conversation over drinks at an office party, the two start hooking up regularly so crowley can help him uncover his sexuality.

A Classical Education by Melibe

M • 1k • human AU (professors) what the fuck this fic only has 1k hits i assumed it was like a fanon classic thpfhtkjdhs. aziraphale recites latin poetry at an office party. “Pedicabo ego vos et irrumabo,” Aziraphale enunciated clearly, knowing that only one person in the room understood the meaning of the archaic syllables: I will sodomize and face-fuck you.

The Rose Thief and the Priest by ImprobableDreams900

T • 15k • human AU (priest/gardener) When horticulturist A. J. Crowley sees a rare breed of rose in a churchyard, he decides he won't stop until he can get a cutting—even if he has to go through the church's stuffy priest to do so.

New Messages by TawnyOwl95

E • 38k (WIP) • human AU (fandom/online) Aziraphale writes fanfiction for the show Nice and Accurate Prophecies. Crowley draws fanart. THIS THING IS WRITTEN SO GOOD AND FUN AHHHHH so many laugh out loud points and feet kicking.

To reveal my heart in ink by chaoticlivi

E • 29k • angel/demon (post armageddon) aziraphale misses letter writing, so he and crowley start to write each other letters. it's easier to confess things on paper, even if they never mention the contents of their letters when they meet in person. it gets so dirty so fast (and aziraphale signing off every one with Your Dear Friend after detailing how he wants to tear crowley to pieces makes me wheeze laugh every time)

Demon and Angel Professors by Ghostinthehouse

T • series of 200 works, 133k total • human AU (professors) an incredible collection of drabbles (this bitch somehow makes every one 666 words) following a universe where aziraphale and crowley are both professors at the same uni. a mix of them and outsider povs, starting from the "two professors are married but no one realises it's to each other" trope, turning into some wonderful soft stories that reveal more of their relationship history, and loads of moments of queer and disabled solidarity.

[tyrantisterror]

You've stated that you prefer your dragon designs to be primarily or solely reptilian. What are some examples of dragon designs that blend in characteristics of non-reptilian animals that you actually like?

Hmmm... I don't know if I should answer this. It feels like an invitation for strangers on the internet to try and convert me to liking mammalian and avian dragons more than reptile ones. They do it all the time, you know. They howl outside my window at night, screaming for me to change my ways. I've had to board up the windows to keep them from clawing their way in, talons sharp and teeth gnashing. They won't stop howling. They want me to be different than I am. They want me to think dragons are better with fur and feathers. It's horrible. One threatened to drink my eyeball fluids.

Anyway, whenever I make a joke exaggerating my feelings about dragons for comedy, someone always pipes in to defend the Rankin Bass take on Smaug as good, so I feel like I should lead with this one. I'm a self professed slut for Rankin Bass's fantasy films, so I feel like the fact that I like this design should go without saying, but just to put fears to rest, here's me saying yes, I like it. As dragons with mammal traits go, this is One of the Good Ones In My Book. I like him, he looks cool.

I feel like Haku is also one that should go without saying, but here I am, saying it. I can't say Haku doesn't look cool - he's basically a wolf snake, and Miyazaki knows damn well how to make wolves look cool as hell, and also animates a damn good snake. Would I like him a bit more if he was scaly instead of furry, the way Asian dragons usually are in art? Uh... yeah, honestly, I would, but the fur works here. It fits what Haku is going for, and sells him as something not quite natural while still representing several aspects of nature. It's a divergence from the reptile look with purpose, and it's done well.

Why am I defending this again, I've spent so much of my life defending scaly dragons, I feel like furry dragons kinda don't need help being popular.

Is including Toothless cheating? Originally I felt his cat features were blended thoroughly with distinctly lizardy features (spcifically agamid lizards like bearded dragons and the like), but in the sequels I think he subtly but noticeably shifted to be more and more catlike. He might not have fur, but by the end of the series I think there's not much that's reptilian in him beyond the long tail and scaly skin. Nevertheless, Toothless is really cute and I love him.

Other non-reptilian dragons I like... well, there's this one drawn by Michael Hague that, according to the story it was made for, is ultimately a big cat monster wearing iron armor. And look at him, how can you hate that face?

Is that enough? Have I shown an open mind enough yet? Can I go back to vocally preferring dragons that are big lizards and snakes now? I'm gonna go do that anyway, actually.

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

Hit ‘Em Up! (18+ Fic)

Pairing: Cowboy!Gojo Satoru x Cowboy!Geto Suguru x Black!Cowgirl!Reader (Slow Burn/Enemies to Lovers)

Synopsis: You get to meet Geto & Gojo the Gunslingers, the notorious outlaws that have every town and law enforcement in a twist, when your bum-ass BF offers you as payment to avoid going to prison. Little do they know that this is only a part of your plan to get what you desire. But when you realize that the infamous gun-slinging, smooth-talking cowboys could be everything you want and more when they offer you a deal to team up with them, will you successfully be able to go through with it? 

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINOS GTFO); poly!SatouSugu; Reader is Black & Fem; Mention of other JJK characters; Porn with Plot; Tragic Backstories; T/W for Childhood Trauma, Parental Death, Violence, Panic Attacks & Torture; Angst/Hurt/Comfort; Hand Kink; Masturbation; Voyeurism; Gay Sex; Polyamorous; Double Deepthroat; Mutual Oral; Fingering; CMNF; Spitroast; Riding; Unprotected PiV Sex; Creampies; Outside/Public Sex; Shotgunning; Multiple Positions; Spit Kink; Facials; MDom/fsub Undertones; Aftercare

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer's Note: Heeeeey, y'all!! I know it's been a hot minute since I've updated his soy & I apologize for that. I've been so busy with my college courses now that I'm back in school & preparing for work, but I promise that I'm gonna finish this story, even if it takes me until the fall. Thank you for your patience, love & continuous support on my shit lol. I hope y'all enjoy & have a great day! -Jazz

Chapters: One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen PT I & II. Nineteen. Twenty. Twenty-One. Twenty-Two. Twenty-Three. Epilogue. Soundtrack.

********

TEN: SOMETHIN’ WICKED THIS WAY COMES.

Once in Sage County, a day’s walk away from the Devil’s Trail, you go shopping. 

“So remind me,” you say as you look through a rack of skirts in the little store. “What’s the plan again?”

Gojo is happy to ​​run it by you again: “You’re an aristocratic woman here on business with her two personal escorts, so you’ll have to act like a bitch, but that won’t be too hard for you.” 

You strike him in the side twice, hard. “Ow, ow, I’m kiddin’!” he exclaims.

Geto glares at you both under his hat from a rack of dresses, eyeballing two beautifully sewn pieces. “Don’t attract any unwanted attention, you two,” he criticizes. “Hmm…this isn’t quite your color. Maybe somethin’ red…” 

“And you think that this is gonna work?” you ask. “‘Cause you realize this entire plan could go to shit.”

Gojo goes to take out a cigarette, only stopping when the shopowner eyeballs him. “Have some faith in us, sugar,” he scoffs at you. “You’re lookin’ at two seasoned actors here. None of our plans go to shit!” 

After running like hell away from Benji’s men who rudely ambushed you, you three finally made it to Sage County.

It is truly the crowned jewel of this Northside of the county––buildings towering over you, steam rising from chimneys connected to homes, businesses, and shops; automobiles traveling down the street so fast that you, Gojo, and Geto had to walk your horses on the sidewalk; train stations and food carts and people trying to sell you shit, not recognizing you behind your bandana and hat. But as soon as they saw the Gunslingers, they backed off. 

“We’ll have to lay low for a minute if Benji is really here,” Geto said as you walked, his hat tipped low to not give off any red flags or tips to anyone who could recognize them. “So stayin’ at a hotel for a day or two might be the move. It won’t knock us off course either.” 

You walked between the duo, pulling Reneigh along behind you. “I don’t get it,” you scoffed. “How did he even find us?” For Benji’s men to know exactly where you were is no coincidence. 

“Benji’s got his ways, little miss,” Geto says, puffing on a cigarette Gojo passes him. “He’s got people all over the place; a whole operation of members. I wouldn’t be shocked if his bandits in Bull’s Creek said somethin’ about us lookin’ for him.” Now it all makes sense! Someone snitched! 

“So now he’s tryin’ to take us out,” you sighed. “Great. Maybe they’ve got a Willow Springs in the afterlife.”

Gojo lifts up his blindfold and his blue eyes lock on yours, irritation swimming in them. “Don’t say that,” he said, so firmly that it shuts you up completely. “Nothin’ is gonna happen to us. We’re gonna get you to Willow Springs and bag Benji ‘cause that’s what we agreed on.” 

The blue-eyed outlaw stands with you now, pulling out a slim, violet dress decorated in beads. “Oooh, this is pretty,” he coos. “Rich-lookin’, dontcha think?”

He shows Geto who taps a thoughtful finger against his chin. “It’s her color,” he says, delighted by the little article of clothing. “Now all we need is some accessories.” You snort as you watch the two grown men look for necklaces and earrings. “Y’all are enjoyin’ this more than me. 

Gojo laughs, passing you the dress with some satin shoes. “It’s always fun to play some dress-up now and again. Now put this on and show us how ya look.” He shoos you off to a try-on room while he and Geto look for accessories to hide their features. 

You try on the dress and the slippers, noticing how soft they are and how the dress hugs you tight. You feel good in it. Normal, even, like a regular woman who doesn’t bust guns and jump from county to county. You look at yourself out of your hat, boots, and bandana, feeling different, but a good different. You feel beautiful. When you walk out to show Gojo and Geto, they are busy counting their coin to pay for the items. 

“How do I look?” you softly ask, making them stop. You immediately have their attention, their eyes grazing over your body and the extra layer of skin that the dress provides.

“Like you could win an award,” Gojo chuckles. You instantly feel like maybe this plan could work. 

After the boys change into their own disguises–suits and fake mustaches–, you head over to the five-star hotel you had your eyes on before and park the horses outside before heading into the clean, sophisticated-looking lobby. A man in a doorman uniform looks up from his book, immediately frowning at the sight of the Gunslingers. 

“Are you hear to purchase tickets for the opera tonight?” he asks, nervously staring up at the very tall, very muscular men holding your bags behind you. You shake your head, though it does explain why so many rich-looking folks are here. “Can I help you then?” 

“I hope you can,” you snootily respond, trying not to laugh as you do. “I’m attending the opera tomorrow and ordered a room here beforehand, but it was taken without my knowledge! I’d like to pay for another, please.” 

The man, still nervous, nods and flips through the book where a bunch of room numbers sit. “May I have your name so I can put you on the waitlist?” he asks. 

That’s when you muster up as much of your acting skills as you can. “Waitlist?” you scoff, putting a hand to your heart. “Do you have any idea who you’re talking to?” The man stays silent, so you continue. “Alana Tabuki, first of my name, owner of several acres. Now, I don’t want to believe that you’d disrespect me, sir, because you’d also be disrespecting my men.” 

You turn to the Gunslingers who still look menacing despite their disguises. You offer them your arms dripping in bangle bracelets. “They don’t take too kindly to that, do you, boys?” you titter. 

The duo takes each of your hands and begins to pepper them in kisses, starting from your knuckles to up your arm to your shoulder. Each kiss leaves a trail of fire up your skin, similar to have Gojo’s kiss made you feel. Once they get to your neck, you start to feel liquid heat pour into your stomach, especially when the two begin to softly moan in your ear. Is this still a part of the plan? 

“O-Okay, that’s enough,” you stutter, feeling hot in your dress. “We don’t want to make the poor man feel uncomfortable.” 

The desk clerk, sweating bullets and looking like he wants to die, rapidly grabs a room key from behind him and drops it into your hand. “O-oh, look at that!” he squeaks. “We have a room that just opened! Please follow our luggagemen to take your bags, ma’am!” He nods at the two luggagemen near the elevator. 

You nod your thanks and slip Geto the key. “Nicely done,” he whispers, pocketing the key before walking off with Gojo who gives you a wink. You proudly smile and follow them close behind as they help the luggagemen with their bags, probably weary about giving them their shit. 

But before you can walk into the elevator, someone comes around the corner and bumps into your side, nearly knocking you down. “Oh, excuse me!” you gasp, stumbling to the left. What you really want to say is, “Hey, watch it!”, but you know that would gain too much bad attention. 

However, when you look at the stranger, all words and thoughts cease to exist. All you feel is fear and dread wrapped up in one as you stare at the man before you. Benji the Bandit is much bigger in person–about six-something feet towering over you and even bigger because of his hulking frame. You bet he’s even taller than Geto and Gojo combined. 

He is much older with long, black hair streaked in gray, a salt-and-pepper beard, an eyepatch that covers his scarred right eye, and a smile glittering in gold that sends shivers down your spine. Despite the wrinkles by his eyes, obvious aging, and the suit he wears, he still scares you like he’s the Boogeyman. 

“No,” he says in a deep, gravelly voice that sends shivers down your spine. “Excuse me, ma’am. I’m so desperate to get these opera tickets that I forgot my footing.”

He laughs, the sound like a rumbling earthquake, and gives you a nod before heading off to do his business, walking with a slight gate on his long cane, his big, ringed hand tattooed with a rose on it. 

You don’t get a chance to say anything else because Gojo is pulling you inside the elevator and the doors shut, and with it, your target. 

**********

Your five-star hotel room is much better than sleeping in a tent or in the open by a fire. 

The clerk hooked you and the Gunslingers up with a hotel suite with two separate bedrooms with their own washrooms, a kitchenette with appliances for brewing tea and coffee, and a lounging space with two fluffy armchairs and a couch near a window overlooking the streets below. The floor is shag carpet, the walls are painted a buttercream yellow, and sweet-smelling, red flowers sit on the table in front of you where you sit on the couch. 

Included with the flowers are two trays of food, a bucket of ice, and a complimentary bottle of champagne that Gojo has already popped open. The trays are littered with finger foods: crackers, all kinds of cheese, fruits, meats, and mustard. Gojo sits next to you, chomping on cheese and sipping bubbly, his bare feet kicked up and having ditched his disguise for a wife beater. 

You hear the water in his and Geto’s chosen bedroom shut off and out walks Geto in a robe, his muscled calves and chest dripping in water on full display. He pulls his wet locks into a bun, looking like a wet, dark-haired Adonis. “Ah,” he sighs. “Much better, though I am jealous of the two of you for havin’ such a beautiful view durin’ your soak this mornin’.” 

He smiles at you but you can’t find it within yourself to return it. You would be indulging in the luxury of the room with them if it wasn’t for Benji the Bandit taking up your thoughts. “You should,” Gojo chuckles. “It was a very beautiful view…I mean, before we were rudely interrupted by bullets, don’t you agree, Y/N?” 

You don’t really hear him, staring blankly down at your satin slippers sitting by the door. You haven’t yet changed out of your dress, even though your bag is in your bedroom now. “Y/N?” Gojo repeats.

You turn to him, finding him and Geto staring at you. “S-Sorry,” you say, flushing with embarrassment. “I’m just a little tired is all.” 

But Gojo isn’t dumb. “Bullshit,” he scoffs. “You’ve got somethin’ on that mind of yours.” He pours you a glass of champagne and passes it to you. You barely take a sip. “What’s wrong?” he asks, worried. “Can’t we talk about it? It’s important that you’re feelin’ as good as we do.” 

You want to tell them you saw Benji, but at the same time, you don’t want to worry them. They seem so relaxed. “How come y’all wear gloves all the time?” you randomly ask.

They blink at you, confused. You nod down at Geto’s bare hands which are bigger and thicker than Gojo’s. “I noticed even when we’re not on our horses, you wear gloves. Y’all germophobes or somethin’?” 

You make the joke to avoid getting forced to cough up the truth, but you even feel weird doing that. Gojo snatches a strawberry from the tray. “Nah,” he chuckles, chewing on the fruit. “But Sugu is. I’m shocked he hasn’t wiped this place down yet.” 

His partner glares down at him. “Not yet,” he growls, snatching the champagne glass from a giggling Gojo. “The gloves are for protection. Not only to avoid leavin’ fingerprints on our targets but to also hide our tattoos.” 

He shows you his rose tattoo inked on his knuckles, the same as Gojo’s. “Benji made us get these when we started,” he explains. “He wanted us to prove our loyalty to him by gettin’ his symbol on our skin forever.” He snorts crudely at the ink, shaking his head. 

Seeing the distaste in his and Gojo’s faces at the sight of the ink on their skin, forever bonded to them whether they like it or not, you break. “I saw Benji earlier,” you finally confess.

A tense, shocked silence falls onto the room and you instantly regret saying anything. “What?” Geto asks and his tone shocks you––it’s sharp and intimidating like an angry father would use. “When?” he demands. 

You swallow hard, knowing you can’t button your lip now. “Earlier while y’all were takin’ the luggage to the elevator. He bumped me comin’ around the corner.” 

The duo continues to stare you down, making you feel uncomfortable. “Did he say anythin’ to you?” Gojo asks.

You passively shrug, hugging yourself as a way to self-pacify. “Just that he was sorry and he’s goin’ to the opera tonight…which I also think we should attend.” 

The white-haired outlaw scowls at you. “And how in the fuck are we supposed to do that?” he scoffs. “We don’t even have tickets!” 

You scoff, glaring at him. “This is comin’ from the same guy who scammed a motel clerk out of some rooms,” you sharply retort, eyeing the both of them suspiciously. “What’s up with y’all anyway? All of a sudden, y’all sound like y’all don’t wanna catch this big-bodied bitch.” 

“That’s not true, Y/N,” Geto firmly protests. “We wanna catch Benji as much as you do, but this is also the same guy who tried to kill us just this mornin’. If he knows we’re here, we could be in big trouble and blow this whole operation to hell. That’s why I said we need to lay low for a bit.” 

But that isn’t good enough for you. “So we just…sit here and let him get away?” You can’t help but be increasingly pissed at this new “plan”. You would think that the Gunslingers would be jumping at the chance to get Benji, but instead, they’re hesitant. Resistant. Not at all the Gunslingers you met and thought they were. 

“It can’t be just a coincidence that he’s here at the same time as us, Geto,” you argue. “It’s a miracle! Obviously, somethin’ in the universe is tellin’ us to get this guy and y’all are more concerned about blowin’ your cover?” 

Geto sighs, looking physically tired of your shit. “This isn’t about our cover. It’s about keepin’ us safe and alive until it’s the right time to pounce.” 

“This is the right time!” you argue, standing up from the couch. “What other time do we have to wait?”

The duo just stares at you, neither one backing down from their decision. You simmer, angered at them. “Maybe I was wrong about y’all,” you hiss. “Fine, since y’all wanna be pussies about it, then I’ll go myself.” 

You begin to stalk towards the door, but Gojo gets up and blocks you from going any further. “No, you’re not,” he sternly says. He looks strange without that usual, gigawat smile on his face. Scary, even. His blue eyes look like ice to you, making you feel like you’ve been dipped in a pool in the Arctic. 

But the stubborn, bratty bitch in you just scowls up at him. “And who the fuck is gonna stop me?” you fridigly ask. Before he can answer, you push past him and continue to walk towards the door. 

You barely make it to the knob when you suddenly feel something tighten around your midsection. You look down, finding a leather whip wrapped tight around you. “Hey, let me go!” you snap, pulling at the whip. “Dammit, Gojo, I said let me go!” 

Gojo just stands there, holding onto the whip with one hand, watching as you as struggle. “Nah, I think I’m gonna let leave ya there to think about your bratty behavior.” He yanks on the whip, causing you to forcefully be jerked toward him. You try to dig your heels into the floor, but it’s no use. He’s just too strong. 

“Satoru,” Geto firmly says. He stands from the couch, fists clenched. “Let her go.”

Gojo scowls at him but releases you anyway. You stagger away from him, finally feeling like you can breathe. Geto strides over to you and stands in the middle of you and Gojo, not wanting the suite to turn into a battlefield…but it already has. 

“Let’s just calm down, okay?” he suggests, collected and composed. “Y/N, I’m sorry, but this is the way it has to be for right now. We’ll find out where Benji is headed next and go from there, but for now, let’s just relax and get some rest.” 

He tries to take your hand, but you flinch away from him and storm off to your bedroom to get the rest he speaks of. But you can’t get rest, especially when night falls. You toss and turn, haunted by vengeance, leaving you hotblooded and your pistol hand itching. 

When you rise from your bed in your PJs, Geto and Gojo have already gone to bed, their door cracked and the sound of Gojo snoring is heard throughout the suite.

You slip into your purple dress and heels from earlier, make your hair look presentable, and slip on your leather jacket. Once you’re dressed, you add your accessories: a gold necklace, bracelets, a knife in a garter belt strapped to your thigh, and a pistol that you slip into your purse. 

You don’t bother leaving a note. You know that the boys will know where you’ve gone. So you slip out the suite, locking it, and down the quiet hallway to the elevators. You don’t turn back. You’re afrai that if you do, you’ll rethink this and decide to stay. So when the elevators ding, you walk in and head to the lobby. 

Once the doors open, you give the doormen a nod as you head outside in the summer night. Reneigh is waiting for you along with Geto and Gojo’s Broncos, all of them chuffling when you see you. You pet Reneigh’s nose and untie her before hiking your dress up and mounting her, feeling weird without your riding boots and pants. 

 “C’mon, girl,” you whisper before softly clucking your tongue against the roof of your mouth. Reneigh takes off clicking down the path, leaving the hotel behind.

[villainsview]

Chapter 16

All Stories End Sometime

<Prev | Masterlist | Next>

It took a couple of days to prepare. I contacted Tito with the offer to sell the house where I stashed my money to him, so I had a small supply of cash again to bridge me over to the next job.

It seemed smart to lay low for a while, but there was just one last thing to do.

I bought the supplies I would need, before stopping at a thrift store to buy a couple extra clothes that seemed big enough to fit Erick. One could only last so long with one set, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to share any of my good clothes.

Ethel had already begun asking if I could take care of a teen, so I quickly told her a couple things are still being settled, which then became my cover to go away for a bit. I told her we had to go back to Arizona to take care of the last things, which wasn’t a lie of course.

“Best of luck with it hun,” Ethel said, insisting we take a food package she made along for the ride, “I hope to see you both back soon. Here, I packed a couple extra of those cookies you liked.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Erick said politely, taking the package from her and putting it in the back of the van with his backpack with new clothes.

“Oh you sweet thing~ You take good care of him now, Chase. If you need anything just call me.”

“Thanks beautiful,” I said, “hopefully we won’t be long. Just today to get there, a day rest, and we should be on our way back already.”

“Oh you flirt,” Ethel said, giving me a push, “get going you two, you don’t want to be late. And if you get car trouble again, call me. I’ll come pick you up.”

“You can’t drive, Ethel.”

“Only on paper.”

She waved us off as we got into the van and pulled into the road. Once she was well out of sight, Erick pulled his backpack closer and pulled out the baseball cap to hide his face.

“What did she mean with ‘only on paper’?” he asked.

“She had her licence taken away after hitting a stoplight one too many times,” I said, “she’s been salty about it ever since.”

“Oh that sucks,” Erick said.

“Mhm…it’s busy on the road today, it’s probably better if you sit in the back.”

“Why are we really going back to Phoenix, sir? You still haven’t told me any details.” Erick said, undoing his seatbelt and moving to sit among the luggage.

“To convince the police they can stop looking for you, we need to give them proof that you’re no longer alive,” I said.

“Um…”

“We’re going to fake your death,” I elaborated.

“How?”

“You see that jerrycan?” I said, “it’s full of benzine. A good enough fire can destroy a lot of evidence, but if we leave enough traces of you they won’t bother to look any deeper into it.”

“So…we’re gonna set something on fire? And close enough to Phoenix so that it’ll be linked to me?”

“Bingo,” I said, “but first…eh, you’ll see when we get there. You might want to get some rest. I wanna get started as soon as we get there, we’ll be able to work under the cover of darkness.”

“Alright,” Erick said, getting a little more comfortable in the back.

Even with the new company, the long trip was still rather boring. Not that either of us were the type for road games or something. Fortunately I’d calculated —or rather, I eyeballed— the amount of breaks and time spent on them enough that we arrived while it was pitch black outside.

Erick was asleep in the back, so he had no idea where we were, which was probably better for the time being. I’d taken him back to the farmhouse. Half of my plan relied on luck and Allard’s tendency to…well, be lazy I suppose.

“Ngh…are we there?” Erick asked, rubbing his eyes as he had just woken up.

“Yeah,” I said, “grab me a flashlight. Come on.”

He got up with a tired groan, searching my bag and pulling out a flashlight while I opened the side door for him. He handed me the flashlight, looking around a bit while I turned it on.

“W-why are we here?” he asked nervously.

“Because I need a car to torch,” I said, “it’s possible Jack’s car is still here somewhere.”

“But…h-he’s dead, right?”

“Without a doubt,” I said, “come on. Watch where you put your feet, there’s rocks everywhere.”

I took him to the barn, noticing he trailed further and further behind, but I could imagine why, so I decided to let it slide for now. I opened the barn door, shining my torch inside, noticing something that seemed like a car, covered by a dark sheet.

“Come on, there’s no one here,” I said, “help me pull this thing off.”

Erick reluctantly came closer, following me into the barn to pull the cover off the car. After doing that I shone the flashlight on the bumper, recognising the obnoxious abundance of stickers.

“Bingo,” I said, trying the door and finding it was unlocked, “open the doors further, I’ll see if she still runs.”

“Okay,” Erick replied, doing as he was told while I found the keys on the sun visor.

I tried starting the engine, and after sputtering a bit I managed to get it running and backed out of the barn. I parked it next to my van, so it would be ready for the next phase. But first…

“One more thing,” I said, getting back into my van and turning it towards another part of the grounds.

I turned on my high beams to light up as much as I could, before handing the torch to Erick.

“Do you remember where the shovels are?”

“...wh-why do we need shovels?” he asked.

“To believe that you’ve died…the police have to find human remains,” I explained, “this was the first place I thought of. I hope you didn’t fill up on snacks yet. The smell is going to be horrible.”

“So…two shovels or just the one?” Erick asked.

“One,” I said, “this is your mess, I can’t be the one doing all the hard work.”

“Man…”

He took the flashlight and headed back to the barn to grab a shovel, while I got out and tried to pinpoint exactly where I made him bury Tracy. It was the only place where the earth was still a bit more loose than around it, and fairly uneven, as if it had caved in a bit, which tends to happen when a body starts decomposing. This wasn’t going to be pretty, but it had to be done.

“Don’t stop now, you almost got it,” I said, lighting maybe a fifth cigarette.

Erick had paused digging to catch his breath, squinting at me as he had to peer against the light since I was leaning against the hood of the van.

“I don’t wanna throw up,” he whined.

“Keep breathing through your nose, you’ll adapt,” I said, “if you breathe through your mouth it’ll get worse.”

“Can’t I take a break?”

“No, keep digging.”

“Hrm…” he groaned again, but continued, slowly and carefully uncovering the corpse, since I told him to keep him in one piece.

After he dug away enough earth, I finally allowed him to stop.

“Okay, I think you can pull him out now.”

“He’s covered in gross stuff,” Erick said.

“Yeah, but enough should hang on to convince this city’s B-rate cops that he died in the fire,” I said, “now stop complaining, you can change clothes when we’re done. I should’ve grabbed overalls…”

“Oh man…”

“Stop whining!” I said, “just get him out the grave and I’ll help you toss him in the trunk of Jack’s car.”

“Why didn’t you park it closer too?”

“I said stop whining!” I repeated, kicking some dirt in his direction.

He coughed a bit, wiping his face with one hand, before taking a deep breath as he began pulling the decomposing corpse from the shallow grave.

I got back into my van, turning it a bit so it lit up the route from the grave to the car, before getting out again and walking over to the car to open the trunk just as Erick finally got that far. I rolled up my sleeves, grabbed the corpse by the ankles and helped him lift it into the trunk.

“There, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” I said.

“Can we burn this shirt while we’re at it?” Erick asked, looking at the dark staining on his torso.

“Yeah sure,” I said, “but fill up that hole first. No need to get two shirts dirty.”

“...yes, sir.”

He sighed, heading back to begin scooping the small heaps of dirt scattered around back into the hole. After he was finished, I let him change his shirt by the car while I parked the van beside the barn, hiding it from view from the road. As I returned to the car with the jerrycan of benzine, Erick threw his soiled shirt into the trunk with the corpse, before closing it.

“What’s next?” he asked.

“Now we make it look like an accident,” I said, “get in. Put on your seatbelt, it’s gonna be a rough one.”

I put the jerrycan in the backseat and got behind the wheel, before starting the engine and driving off. I didn’t need to go too far, since we’d had to walk back after this, I just needed to find a good spot.

“Oh, that’ll do,” I said, spotting a post on the side of the road.

I slowed down, making a U-turn.

“D-do for what?” Erick asked.

“Cover your head with your arms,” I said, “I’m gonna hit the post.”

“What post—”

CRASH!

It wasn’t that rough in the end. The seatbelts and airbags did their jobs. I didn’t even need my airbag, really.

“Ow…” Erick groaned, rubbing a good burn from his seatbelt as he pulled himself out of his airbag.

“Makes you feel alive, doesn’t it?” I said.

“You could’ve warned me…”

“I did,” I said, “come on, get out.”

He groaned once more, before undoing his seatbelt and stumbling out of the car. I got out as well, grabbing the jerrycan. But before getting to work, I walked around towards Erick, pulling him a couple feet away from the back of the car.

“Now we leave some traces,” I said, “it’s gonna hurt, but you trust me, don’t you?”

“I…y-yes, sir.”

“Good, give me your arm.”

He hesitated a short second, before holding out his right arm. I grabbed it, before pulling out a knife. He gasped, but before he would try to pull away, I’d already cut a nice, deep gash into it.

“Ah! W-why?”

“DNA,” I said, “let it drip on the ground. We’ll make an obvious trail.”

I used the flashlight to determine when he’d spilled enough. Then I dragged him towards the car, instructing him to really dig his heels into the sand, before I lifted him to sit on top of the trunk while I pulled a package of gauze from my pocket and put pressure on the cut.

“Hold that in place,” I said, “I’m gonna carry you over to the asphalt so there’s only one set of prints from here on.”

“O-okay…”

I waited for him to get a good grip on his arm, before lifting him off the trunk and walking over to the asphalt before putting him down.

“Wait here while I torch the thing,” I said, before heading back, picking up the jerrycan and beginning to douse the insides and outsides of the car.

Then I made a little trail towards the asphalt so I wouldn’t have to be too close for the ignition. I put the can down and lit a cigarette, viewing my work for a second.

“Yeah, that’ll do,” I said, “even if they determine the fire was set on purpose, they’ll think it was done to conceal your death, remove evidence of who done it, yada yada.”

“And they’ll stop looking for me?” Erick asked.

“Yeah, cause they’ll think they’ve found you. Or your corpse at least.”

“...thank you, sir.”

“Whatever,” I said, taking a drag from my cigarette, before offering it to him, “do you wanna do the honour?”

Another second of hesitation, before he took the half-smoked cigarette and dropped it onto the benzine. The fuel immediately ignited, travelling quickly towards the car before nearly blinding us both as it blazed up into a giant ball of fire.

“Whoa,” Erick said.

“Worth it, isn’t it?” I said.

“It’s kinda awesome, yeah…”

“Either way, rest in peace I guess,” I said, “as far as the police and the media are concerned, that’ll be the end of your story.”

“No,” Erick said, “just the end of a chapter I think.”

“Don’t get all poetic on me, that’s my thing,” I said, “come on, let’s head back and get the fuck out of this stupid desert.”

<Prev | Masterlist | Next>

[dopeasspancake]

Okay, I have another Hear Me Out situation, but this one is for Billy/Sidney/Stu.

An AU where Billy and Stu kill everyone so they can have Sidney to themselves.

Billy and Stu have been hooking up behind Sidney's back for quite a while, because despite him loving Sidney, he loves Stu just as much (if not more). One night as they're laying in Stu's bed, Billy laments how much easier things would be if Stu was interested in Sidney too and they could convince her to date the both of them.

And of course Stu is like "what do you mean IF I was interested?" because he has eyeballs and Sid is gorgeous and genuinely very sweet and kind and Stu has been lowkey obsessed with her as well, but would never dream of acting on it because he loves Billy.

So they hatch a plan to slowly introduce Stu into Billy and Sidney's relationship in a way that Sid won't even realize until it's already happened.

First, they kill her mother and frame Cotton for it. A year later they kill Tatum, Randy, and Neil Prescott (but make his look self-inflicted so they can frame for him for the latest murders). They did go after Sidney but made sure not to hurt her, but do slice themselves up to really sell it and then tell police and Sidney her dad snapped on the anniversary of his wife's murder and took out Sidney's all friends and tried to kill her but they were able to stop him.

And naturally Sidney is upset but also so grateful to the boys for saving her and they're like "Well of course, anything for you, Sid."

So her aunt Kate moves into Sidney's house so that Sidney doesn't also have to move in addition to grieving her friends and parents. But she's always busy working or looking after her own little toddler, so Sid is on her own a lot.

And now she's nice and isolated, with really only her boyfriend and good friend Stu to lean on for support. And they make it a point to always be there for her, comforting with sweet words and gentle touches and small tokens of affection to cheer her up.

The plan really kicks in with regular movie nights where Sidney sits on the sofa between the two boys. And Stu is more than happy to get up and grab Sidney snacks and another can of Dr Pepper whenever she wants. It's just what a good friend would do he says anytime she protests.

Billy and Stu start finding opportunities for Stu to slip extra compliments towards Sid into everyday conversation.

"Your hair looks very pretty today, Sid."

"Hey Stu, what do you think of Sidney's new jeans she got yesterday?"

"I'd say they make your ass look fantastic but I'm sure that's all you and not just the jeans, baby."

(She'll blush and chastise him for his choice of words but Billy and Stu will only laugh and agree that it's true.)

Then one movie night Stu offers to let her rest her legs over his lap so she can stretch out and lay against Billy's chest while he plays with her hair. And since her legs and feet are just right there Stu is kind enough to rub her feet and occasionally runs a finger along her legs to test the waters. But he never looks at her because he's totally just spaced out watching the movie, right?

And from there they start conditioning Sidney to get used to Stu becoming as touchy as Billy. If he opens a door for her, he guides her through with a hand on her lower back. She has a hair out of place? He reaches over and tucks it behind her ear.

After a couple of months Billy and Stu start to notice Sidney seeking out physical contact from Stu just as much as Billy. If they're standing around talking, she'll lean against him if he's closer than Billy. She gives him and Billy both hugs anytime she's saying goodbye. Eventually she even starts kissing him on the cheek.

They enter the final act of their plan with Billy initiating brief make out sessions during their movie nights. And at first she's hesitant because she worries Stu will think it's uncomfortable or weird but he's of course like "oh by all means, suck face."

And so they do. And sometimes, since they're often right there on his lap, Stu will caress his fingers along her legs and thighs while her and Billy kiss. And this begins to instill a sort of Pavlovian response in her.

So sometimes if Stu happens to touch her leg, she'll initiate making out with Billy. Which gets progressively more heated.

And then after 3-4 months it finally all comes to fruition when the 3 of them are watching a movie. Sidney and Billy are kissing, but both boys see her constantly looking out of the corner of her eye at Stu while he draws little circles around her ankle with a finger, and her breathing is getting heavy.

Billy feels like it's finally the right time, so as he kisses along her jaw he whispers in her ear that Stu looks so lonely over there. And Sidney nods in agreement but doesn't say anything.

And then Billy looks her in the eye and with a very charming smile tells her "you can kiss him too, if you want." And of course she looks completely taken aback, but not mad. So Billy continues on with things like I see the way you look at him sometimes, he looks at you too and it's okay, I'm fine with it, we're all friends here and he's been so lonely since losing Tatum.

And by now Stu isn't even pretending he's not listening anymore and he plays the Good Cop and reassures her with you don't have to do anything you don't want to and I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable, you're just so pretty and just so nice and Sidney, baby, you know I adore you.

And with one last nod of encouragement from Billy, Sidney slowly pushes up and away from Billy to scoot down the couch toward Stu, who gently scoops her up and and resettles her so that she's straddling his lap.

Because she looks so nervous still, Stu takes the initiative to draw her in with a gentle finger under her chin and she doesn't stop him so he finally goes in for the kill.

And while Stu and Sidney gently make out, Billy scoots down the couch so he can sit next to them and lean against Stu's side so the hand not gripping Sidney's waist can run through Billy's hair.

And when one of Sidney's hands reach out to hold Billy's while the other runs along Stu's jawline, Billy just thinks to himself Got her.

[grand-theft-carbohydrates]

WHAT DO YOU MEAN TANG DYNASTY CANNIBALISM?? /gen /that sounds so interesting /pls ignore if you don't feel like talking about this

Oh ho im always down to chat about history. I actually cant name any specific instance of tang dynasty cannibalism, since my knowledge of chinese history stops after 300 CE, but in general the cultural attitude towards cannibalism has been fairly pragmatic. It's not considered a moral event-horizon you can't return from. Of course, every society has instances survival cannibalism, e.g. you’re under siege/ theres a famine/ some other infinitely nuanced circumstance. But outside of actually history, cannibalism shows up in basically every single story. Not even as a major plot point it’s just there.

Take the 4 great classics:

Romance of the three kingdoms: a hunter kills his wife and uses her flesh to feed the virtuous Liu Bei. This is framed as a noble and selfless act. bonus autocannibalism; Xiahou Dun eats his own eyeball due to *checks notes* filial piety.

Water Margin: i cant remember the name of this guy, but there was this inkeeper who was killing passerbys and feeding them to the guests. He joins the main lineup of heroes. This is never brought up again.

Journey to the west: every demon wants to eat the Tang Monk’s flesh to gain immortality. Happens every 10 pages. Not technically cannibalism by the standard definition but it is a) consumption of human flesh and b) they are humanoid/are embodiments of human vice. So im gonna count it. my blog my rules.

Dream of the red chamber: havent read it and at this point im afraid to ask.

Historical tidbit: Lingchi (death by slow cuts) was sometimes followed up by selling the person's flesh to the crowd, either as medicine, or if the person had committed a particularly egregious crime, it was a way for the people to show their hatred. The phrase "the people want to eat your flesh" is a byword for "they fucking hate you, dude." though this is more to do with desecration of a corpse than the actual consumption, because if a body is destroyed, the spirit will not be whole in the afterlife.

followers feel free to chime in!

[bitchy-peachy]

Watch me get reported again for this comment but I'm laughing through clenched teeth right now cos I frankly want to tear my own eyeballs off.

Said under a clip of Arab Americans that voted for Trump celebrating his win thinking he's gonna help Gaza when he's actually talking with Netanyahu about building his businesses over a destroyed Gaza.

You killed your own people, you stupid fucks. This man lied a bunch of times his first term and y'all thought kissing his ass was gonna help y'all?

He's so pro Israel he might as well crawl under Netanyahu like a submissive wife with his butt up.

You screwed your own people and while I may laugh, I'm laughing angrily and if I saw one of you dumb fucks irl I'd slap you so hard you'd shit yourselves.

I want you fucks deported and I want Gazans that have suffered enough to be evacuated to safety while YOU morons take their place in the fall for your stupid ass votes.

In a just world, you'd be taking ALL their suffering but no, you signed their death sentence and I hope it eats at your asses and every time I see your videos or posts of you talking STUPID, I'm gonna be so spiteful and treat you like the dumbfucks you are.

I ain't even Palestinian or Muslim or whatever and I feel so personally pissed off for them for having pieces of shit like you that screwed them over.

You didn't abstain from voting or voted 3rd party. YOU ACTIVELY ENCOURAGED DIRECT PRO TRUMP VOTES COS HE WROTE YOU A DUMB LETTER ONCE SAYING HE'D STOP EVERYTHING.

Well enjoy a complete wipe out. Oh "It couldn't get worse 🙄."

Well, bitch, you made it worse.

These poor people oh my god I'm flaming pissed. Just got on tiktok and saw that stupid shit and am using dark humor cos I was seriously considering telling these dumbfucking backstabbers to kill themselves for being MORONS.

I've had 2 accounts yeeted on tiktok just for using emoji convos and I ain't about to loose another one again cos I have a lot of friends there, but I will be mean as shit towards you Arabs for Trump fucks. Idgaf who I offend, plus you bitches were extremely fucking racist towards Kamala Harris, saying she was a DEI hire and that we were only voting for her cos she was a Black/Asian American woman.

Y'all also said she had no policies when she had a bunch, you morons were just too busy sucking Trump's dick and selling your people out.

Fuck you. You're worse than the tankies now cos far as I know I haven't seen a single one doing this shit. If anything they cared more for them despite them voting like ass themselves but I didn't see a single one partying over Trump winning like you stupid shits are.

And I'm saying this as someone that hates tankies for usually talking over poc and being anti Semitic cos they think all Jews are evil (when I've met more Jews that want Palestinians saved than destroyed at least here in the US. Not everyone in every country is a flaming fucking asshole)

Unbelievable... Still seething at this.

I ain't a religious person. In fact I'm into witchcraft, lol. But I'm really feeling for these poor people rn and want them blessed and protected.

I hope everyone that voted for Trump gets haunted by their faces every time they close their eyes.

[saladruiner]

Happy DADWC day! First off, love the blog name.

Second off, I have GOT to see your take on Trouble opening a jar with Dorian & f!Inquisitor 🤣

Thank you! Honestly, this is exactly what I had in mind for this one, haha. @dadrunkwriting prompt!

"Kaffas!"

Inquisitor Lavellan followed the sound of shattering glass, her curiosity getting the better of her. It was late, perhaps after midnight, and she couldn't sleep. On such nights, she walked around Sky hold and allowed her mind to wander.

"It's like they don't want anyone to eat their jam. Why sell it, then?"

She couldn't stop a smirk upon hearing her indignant friend. "Need help, Dorian?" she called, leaning in the doorway to the kitchen.

The mage jumped, nearly dropping another jar while swearing profusely in Tevene. He clutched at his chest dramatically and glared at her. "Andraste's eyeballs, warn a man before you sneak up on him!"

"You were too distracted by your opponent to notice me. What is that, anyway?"

"It's rhubarb jam from Val Royeaux. Bull picked it up for me the last time you went, and I thought I would have a snack. He didn't tell me that these jars were apparently sealed shut with some blood magic the likes of which I have never seen!" He plonked the jar angrily onto the work table he was standing at.

Lavellan noticed a red mess on the floor near his feet. "Was that your first attempt?"

"No, I've gone into labor." He rolled his eyes dramatically. "Honestly, can you help me or not?"

She rolled her eyes back at him and stepped around the mess. "I forgot how testy you get when you're hungry."

"Yes, well, it's not my fault you don't have overnight kitchen staff like they do in civilized parts of Thedas." "Is that what you call the zoo you came from?" She smirked at him and grabbed the jar. "Stand back; I wouldn't want you to get hurt."

"You know, I was going to offer to share with you," Dorian sniffed. "But now I won't."

She grinned at him and turned the jar's lid.

Or, she tried to.

Try as she might, the lid didn't budge, not even when she used a nearby towel to grip the lid. Dorian watched her struggle with his arms crossed, his smirk growing larger by the second.

"You must have tightened it when you were trying to open it," she panted, setting the jar back onto the table. "Is Bull around? Maybe he can--"

"He's out with the Chargers."

"Shit."

"What about your boyfriend?" he asked with mock innocence. "I'm sure Solas would--"

"Don't." The word was quiet, yet harsh. Lavellan turned her head away, blinking back sudden tears. Of all things to get her emotional, trying to open a jam jar in the middle of the night was not what she expected.

"Oh, Ellana." Before she could react, he wrapped her in a warm hug. "He might be a genius, but he's a bloody idiot where relationships are concerned. Trust me, you deserve better."

"...Thank you, Dorian." She pulled away, feeling both appreciative and embarrassed.

"You know, I find that I have lost my appetite for jam. Want to go throw these blasted jars off the mountainside with me?"

"Won't Bull be upset that you threw his gift?"

"Are you kidding? He'll just be upset that he wasn't here for the throwing. Now, are you coming or not?" He raised an eyebrow at her and hefted a small crate of jars.

Lavellan managed a tiny smile.