#the ons server keeps yelling at me to come back how do i tell them i abandoned them for a white bread war criminal

[nerawrites]

Before we start

Hello!!!!

Welcome to my first story happy you’re here :)))

Ships: The Bear x Fem!oc

Warnings: mental illness & use of medications

Song: Runaway-Kanye West

***this is back story before we start the actual story

Masterlist

If there is one thing I hated most it was yelling. Something about it is crippling, so damaging and violent yet not physical about it. I’ve been surrounded by yelling all my life yet every single time it is meant for me I crumble. Frozen; not moving, the only things that move are tears that fall out of my eyes.

Like Newton’s third law of “every action has a reaction” it happens every single time even with me trying to keep control of it.

I don’t remember when this reaction started but it’s always been a part of me. The funny thing is that I have worked in a kitchen for most of my life. A kitchen is like a portal to hell being in a constant dumpster fire no matter how nice it is. There’s something so beautiful yet ugly about it. All the yelling, emotions, and the invisible constant timer ticking every microsecond ready to sound; the special thing is that it’s never geared towards anyone. But I’ve never always felt like this.

Jobs in my early career were a bit of a mess, both physically and mentally. At the start, the yelling got to me and reminded me of why I was in the kitchen in the first place to escape. It also gave me the name that followed me everywhere, “Llorona” which I got from a line cook in my first restaurant. It meant “crybaby” in Spanish. I hated this nickname but I knew it was true. I’m forever grateful for an old chef telling me to leave and get help. I think they probably meant it as an insult but I did it anyway. Took years but thanks to new jobs, therapy, and medication I became a different person in the kitchen. That stupid name still followed me everywhere I went somehow, I even started going by that name and just shortened it (Lloris). Luckily I used this to my advantage.

Jobs I took in the kitchen were from far and wide, meaning I took any job that was offered to me and I mean any from a dinky restaurant dishwasher to exposition in a Michelin-star restaurant. As long as I was able to be in the kitchen it didn’t matter. This taught me a lot about how a kitchen worked. It was those starting jobs that gave me a name that I was known for in the cooking world. I never thought I would get any type of spotlight for doing something I just loved doing. The thing was I was only fine being known for my cooking, not me. I did work arounds to try my best to show my work but not be shown if that makes sense. Like never giving my legal name to anyone but going by a name I was already known for “Lloris”, sticking to a certain area of the states (the south), never doing interviews that were videotaped, and only getting pictures taken of my food. Some kitchens I worked with understood while others didn’t. I know at times it seems too much work doing all of this. It felt worth it to me. My so-called “name” rises from my work while the other part of me is kept concealed and only what’s important is being shown.

Everything was starting to look up for me. Life was good and my job was good, nothing to complain about. But then it wasn’t; it was a long night and even a longer working day as I stayed up the night before trying to perfect the recipe for a diner showing because of an incoming critique. This was not for the critique but for me “Lloris”. This was important to me and my career like there was nothing else in my life worth doing at the moment but perfecting this dish was gonna be a stepping stone to taking me to the next level. The pressure was on everyone: the head chef, servers, dishwashers, and both stations and junior chefs. I was in panic mode making sure the presentation was perfect and then sending them out to customers not having time to relax as I had to work on the presentation of the next dish coming to my table. Then it all went to shit. Maybe it was from not getting any sleep to probably forgetting to take my medication but all I saw before I blanked out was the head chef yelling face turning red as they got closer to me. Who knows what they said all I could put together was something about forgetting to put the garnish on the critic's dish. It was like almost all these years of improvement did nothing as I did what always used to happen. Except this time it was different unlike all the other times I didn’t freeze and I just really wanted the yelling to stop. I never believed I could do this but I just threw food at the head chef's face. Simply mauled his face by throwing a hot steak. I couldn’t believe what I had just done, and neither did the rest of the kitchen as the usually loud space went completely silent. I let go of the plate I was holding from disbelief causing it to shatter to the ground.

After that, the only thing I could do was run away, and so I did without leaving a chance for anyone to speak. Still in my chef whites leaving my belongings there. I felt disappointed, all that work I did just to mess it up ruined everything I as Lloris created. I couldn’t go back, I just couldn’t, I wanted to leave this life and relocate and so I did. I left everything. The first thing I did was shower get and change into anything else but those reched clothes and packed a bag of all my important documents. The next day I closed the lease in the place I was living in, sold everything I could, and donated the rest that belonged to me, even my phone. I wanted nothing that would remind me of the place I was leaving behind. I look at that time and see how much I moved on impulse. After getting rid of everything I just caught a cab to the airport and took the flight that was coming the soonest, Chicago. I didn’t know any-fucking-thing about Chicago being exempt for having the fucking bean, perfect. When I landed it was night so I stayed in the airport till daylight. Took another cab to a public library to use their computers to get the address and book a hotel, an Airbnb, and find the nearest store where I could get a phone.

I look back at these times to realize how much of a crazy bitch I was for doing this but also lucky as hell as it worked out. Also let’s appreciate all these years of slaving at my job, barely eating, and never going out unless necessary that made this move possible.

Couple weeks passed now still at the same Airbnb going to interviews for jobs luckily restaurant wanted me after an interview. Gave them an old resume not with all my experience but enough with one good recommendation, and made up a story on why I was in Chicago. This time it was gonna be a different, fresh start as Alicia and not Lloris. The place where I’m going to start working is called “The Bear”. Fuck knows what that means but hey the place was up in coming with the really cute famous chef as the owner that I’ve never interacted with. What could go wrong?

A/N

How was it y’all

Pls let me know thoughts

[blueberryismilk18]

Heyyy, I just found your writing and I love it so much 😭

I just wanted to ask for bistro huddy (idk if I spelled it right 😭) headcanons with a s/o that has anger issues. Like whenever they serve a rude costumer they can hardly contain themselves from smacking them with the turkey sandwich they ordered 😭😭. You could do whatever characters you like. You don’t have to take my request if you don’t want to btw. I don’t wanna force anything. Anyways, I hope you have a great day/night! Bye bye!!! ☺️

Heyy, I really enjoyed this one:3 sorry I’ve been gone for a while I had a very bad writing burn out. I’m gonna try and get as many done today as I can so expect more later! Hope you enjoy (none of my head canons are ever proof read so if there is a spelling mistake lmk)

Ruby, Terry, Joey, and Pickles with a S/O with anger issues

ℜ𝔲𝔟𝔶 (fem reader)

💋 She definitely has anger issues too but she can keep it under wraps.

💋 Will shit talk about the Customer(s) bothering you

💋She would probably go into the freezer with you to scream about the entire kitchen staff while you scream about the customers

💋 If you ever actually flip out at a customer she would lowkey be proud, or like in awe. I don’t think she’d encourage it but also she kinda would…

💋 “I didn’t think you had that in you, kind of stupid though. I mean It was kinda hot.”

💋 There’s a reason the chefs aren’t servers…

𝕋𝕖𝕣𝕣𝕪 (Masc reader)

👔 Lets you sit in his office(? Does he even have one… I’m assuming yall) to cool off and take a breather

👔 While your there he will tell you about how he understands it’s easy to get frustrated

👔 Trust me, this man understands. He goes through it almost every day.

👔 “I tell ya love, I know. I got Tim always calling my ass for things that, I tell ya, are just plain stupid!”

👔 Lets you talk about it and will probably crack a few jokes with you to help you feel better

👔 You flip out at a customer, you best believe this man it’s taking your side. What are they gonna do, tell the manager?!

ᴊᴏᴇʏ

🍨LOSES HIS TEMPER TOO! 

🍨 NOBODY is gonna treat his prince/princess like that?!

🍨 He flips out at the customer for you.

🍨 Another man who understands how idiotic people can be (despite being kinda dumb himself.)

🍨 “What the fuck are these people doing! If they gotta problem direct them to me sweetheart! Cause they could have a sandwich alright, a fucking knuckle sandwich!”

🍨 if you flip out, he would literally praise you for it, men’s glad you finally stuck up for yourself

𝙿𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚎𝚜

🍭 I don’t think he really understands why your upset when you come to the back 

🍭 Once you explain he would get mad too! 

🍭 How could you let them talk to you like that?! 

🍭 “Let me at him!”

🍭 offers you candy to make you feel better, will give you a few hugs to help you cool off

🍭 Will take you outside to the back for a bit to breathe while he says some (stupid) sweet things to make you laugh

🍭 If it keeps happening with the same person maybe he’ll get riled up enough to confront them, probably will chicken out last second

🍭 If he finds out you flipped out, he hyped you up after, even after getting yelled at by Terry

🍭 “You did so amazing! That’ll teach them!”

[silvergyus]

thinking about line cook yeonjun...

sfw. tw: cigarettes

he started after you. a new cook to fill in on the line and help with to-go orders. it was a relief honestly and had been a while since there was anyone new on staff

you notice him immediately. he's tall and good looking and doesn't yell like some of the other cooks

you shoot each other flirty looks for a few weeks whenever you're in the kitchen picking up your tables' orders

you get a moment away from the bustle of the restaurant, ducking out into the alley to calm yourself in the cool night air. yeonjun is out on his smoke break

he looks so cool, his bangs falling out of his backwards hat, his lanky form leaning against the wall, the cigarette between his lips burning orange in the blue night

you talk to him, finally, actually talk to him. it's short, but it's enough

he draws you in, as cliche as line cooks and waitresses are, but you can't resist him

he puts his number in your phone before flicking the butt of his cigarette onto the dirty concrete, grinding it out with the heel of his beat up sneaker. he smells like smoke when he leans in to whisper in your ear, telling you to text him when you're off

he goes back inside, leaving you stunned, ears burning and butterflies fluttering in your stomach

the other waitstaff immediately notice the shift in your behavior. they joke that you must have a crush on the new guy, that it's finally happening, your waitress rite of passage- crushing on a line cook

you deny it- nothing happened between you two!- but they don't believe you

it doesn't help the way that yeonjun winks at you when you go back to run orders

the way he saves you food and whips up "something special" for you from time to time

the special treatment he seems to give you and no one else

weeks go by and you text him only from time to time, the conversation barely leaving the topic of work

but he's sweet, flirting and chatting with you when it's slow

he comforts you when you spill sauce on yourself, a huge mess down your front and all over your shoes. he goes so far as to come to the front and tell your manager that you need to go home when he refuses to cut you

it's the first time you see yeonjun actually mad

but his voice is still soft when he takes you under his arm back to the tiny server station so you can grab your bag

he has that same gentleness when you can't stop the tears that form after hours serving a picky table, doing your best, your brightest smile plastered on in the middle of a dinner rush. the table hogged all your attention and kept you from being assigned others, only for them to leave no tip

yeonjun smells like kitchen grease and lingering cigarette as he pulls you aside, rubbing circles on your back as you try to calm down, letting the frustration rush out and away in his arms

you stay late that night rolling silverware in a back booth. he walks you to your car

he looks at you sincerely, tilting his head to look through his lashes

"I meant it when I said to text me. we can talk about more than just work, you know"

your body immediately heats up and you thank years of serving experience for letting you keep your cool

the other servers have a sixth sense, you swear, the way they all know about your date with yeonjun before you even say anything

the two of you are the talk of the team, everyone wanting to know what his place is like, how good of a kisser he is

"you did kiss him, right? if I were-"

"okay that's enough" you cut off your coworker before she can speculate too far

you like to keep what you and yeonjun do outside of work between just the two of you

even though he still gives you special treatment when you are on the clock

tagging: @doumachi (ty for screaming about him with me), @miupow , @dearlyjun , @https-yeonjun , @theresawtf

[cautious-soup]

Yakuza!(Two can play at that game)Sukuna x Fem!Reader

Part 3

Part 2

Summary: With quick thinking, you finally have the leverage you need, but it ends up backfiring.

CW// mean words thrown in reader's direction, just the general vibe of being held hostage

A/N: Finals are over 🥲 this chapter took a while to write, mostly cause I had to think of a plausible way for Reader to gain an advantage, and to set up some forced proximity stuff 👀--but don't read too closely on how we get there lol. Still, this shaping up well at least. Please enjoy this new chapter!

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Back pocket.

Yuuji always has his phone in his back pocket. It's right there, outline clear as day. 

You figure it's been a little over a week, which means sooner or later your dad will want an update on your condition, which means—pictures. Someone had to take pictures of you eventually.

Every time you try to talk to Yuuji, that Jogo character shuts you up.

So, you'd have to read body language, see if Yuuji is the type to unlock his phone before taking a picture or not. It would be a split second decision, you'd have to make sure he was close enough.

Yuuji and Jogo come to check on you once a day—it's been 6 times in addition to the 2 days you've been here. You'll be damned if you stay here any longer.

The door creaks open, and the two come in. Yuuji does the usual rounds, and you discreetly keep your focus on both him and Jogo. You don't want it to be obvious you're observing them. You sit up as Yuuji takes out his phone and snaps a couple of photos of you, but sag when you realize he isn't close enough.

Yuuji turns to leave, but Jogo clears his throat.

"Ugh, I really—" Yuuji starts, but Jogo shakes his head. "Brother's orders."

Yuuji scowls at him and whispers, though you still hear, "I don't want you leering at her,"

Jogo snorts, "As if,"

Yuuji sighs, and you tense in anticipation as he reaches back for his phone.

"Kay, so," He has a displeasured look on his face, "Sorry, you have to take some things off. I need to take more pictures…" he says, cheeks already pink.

But that isn't what you pay attention to. No, you watch him look down at his phone for a moment, and your fingers twitch at the small click as the face id goes through.

So, he was the type. That made your job a little easier.

You pull your knees up to your chest and shake your head adamantly, "No,"

Yuuji makes a noise, "Please just—I'll be quick I promise, I don't wanna have to force you."

But you will.

You try to keep your breath even, trying to ignore the feeling of Jogo's impassive gaze.

"No." You say again, crowding yourself against the wall.

Jogo snorts, "Hurry it up kid, we don't got all day,"

Yuuji gives you a pained expression, but looks down at the ground. When he looks back up, it's like he's wearing a mask. Your heart pounds as he strides over to the bed, placing a knee on it and reaching out to grab your shoulder.

Your eyes zero in on the phone in his other hand—now or never.

Clenching your jaw, you grab the arm reaching out to you with both of your own. Yuuji yelps, his arm going stiff as your fingers close around it.

"Please," you say, eyes flicking down for a moment at his phone, "Can you at least tell me what you're going to do with them?"

"Just…I…" Yuuji swallows. 

Jogo pipes up in irritation, "Quit with the theatrics. Yuuji, get on with it,"

Just slightly, Yuuji brings his hand with the phone closer. You allow yourself to glance at it one more time just to check and sure enough, you can see the home screen. At that, your breath hitches.

"Yuuji—!" Jogo yells as you dig your nails into his arm and duck under it. Yuuji cusses, and you snatch the phone from his loosened grip. You quickly put as much distance between yourself and him as possible, thumbing across his apps. In a second, you're holding the phone above your head, screen facing both of them.

The photos Yuuji had taken a moment ago are selected, ready to be sent to a discord server—it was the first app you saw.

"I'll send it," You say.

Jogo looks furious, and Yuuji baffled, "How did—" he purses his lips. You resist the urge to smirk. Sure he had faster reflexes than you in almost every respect, but when it came to phones you'd yet to meet a match. Turns out being an influencer came with a skillset of its own.

"You won't," Jogo says, though he still looks on edge, "They'll wonder why you're in this situation to begin with. Then it's only a matter of time before they find out about your daddy's shady dealings,"

You swallow, knowing he's right. The people on the server—a gaming server by the looks of it—will wonder why Yuuji has these pictures to begin with. The connections would only be more apparent from there.

Still, "I don't care," You say, "We'll all be fucked, I don't care,"

Jogo and Yuuji look at each other. Jogo reaches for his own phone, so you press send.

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"Ooook, next we're gonna add these chocolate chips. I like to just add the whole bag hehe,"

Sukuna watches the video of you bleary eyed. His bed still smelled like the escort's perfume, it gave him a headache. She'd done her job though, and Sukuna sent her off with a generous tip, before getting a rare full night of sleep. 

Lately, he'd picked up the awful habit of watching reels first thing in the morning. The constant bombardment of information probably did more to fuck him up than slashing a debtor's achilles tendon did. 

"Also, you can freeze this dough for up to a month–just make sure you roll out some of it beforehand!"

Your most popular reel was simple, a chocolate chip cookie recipe. It just popped into Sukuna's recommendations out of nowhere. The whole video had the production level of a cable show, he doesn't see the appeal at all.

Still, he's watched it three times in a row. Probably just because he's too lazy to scroll.

"See how soft they look too,"

The video cuts to a close-up of you breaking the cookie in half. Sukuna snorts, wondering if you scarfed all of them down once the cameras stopped rolling. 

You were trending yesterday night, and Sukuna couldn't help but laugh when he found out why. Your most recent instagram post was a 'personal statement' about how you needed to 'prioritize your mental health.'

It was obviously a haphazard attempt by your father's PR team to keep your actual whereabouts a secret. The apology was clearly written by AI too, Sukuna scoffed at the laziness. It was less work for him at least.

Finally, the reel reaches the point where you bite into a cookie and moan. It's a low, soft sound—similar to the whine Sukuna heard the other night when your lips were wrapped around his cock.

At that memory, combined with the sight of you licking melted chocolate off your finger, Sukuna finds himself hard. 

He scoffs, but taps your profile anyway. 

Your latest post, apart from the apology, was a selfie that was mundane. You were in your kitchen, camera angled down at yourself and a mixing bowl on the counter that was filled with pink frosting.

New recipe coming soon 👀👀bet you can’t guess what it is

That and, well, your tits. They were right there, it was like the camera angle was simulating the gaze of someone looking down your shirt. 

Sukuna made a sound in the back of his throat, starting to tug at himself, before cursing as Jogo's number flashed across his screen.

"Fucking—what?" Sukuna asked as he picked up.

Sukuna squeezed his eyes shut as Jogo's tinny voice came through his phone speaker, interspersed with expletives, "Dumb pig—" and "Stupid bitch," and "Fucking Yuuji—"

"Yuuji?" Sukuna asked, shrugging on a shirt, "Fuck—what did he–?"

"She went and got in his head," Jogo hissed, "If we make a move on her we're fucked—she said she wants to see you so please get over here right fucking now,"

Sukuna rubs at his temple, "I swear," he growls, "I am gonna break that fucking pig,"

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It really was quite a sight, Sukuna would have laughed if the context was different. 

You were in the farthest corner of the room, by the bathroom, brandishing Yuuji's phone like it was a gun. Yuuji and Jogo stood tense and useless by the entrance, the room was stagnated in silence.

"Fuck's sake Yuuji," is the first thing Sukuna says, "What did she press her tits together for you?"

"Shut up," Yuuji muttered, "None of that matters—what matters is that she sent pictures,"

"And every minute we spend standing around is gonna make damage control way harder," Jogo sighed.

Sukuna looked between them, and then at you. You tensed under his glare, but didn't move. 

You were recording everything in short clips. You'd only sent the pictures in the discord—but if things didn't go your way, you were ready to send all of the videos too.

"Well?" Sukuna asked. You had to be bluffing, but to what extent? How much were you willing to incriminate your father, jeopardize your own future?

You send a short video you'd taken of yourself to the server, both Jogo and Yuuji were in frame. You could see the messages in the discord piling up frantically.

Flash wtf is ts wait ive seen this chick's recipes on tiktok before is this snuff????? @ BlackFlash you finna get banned bruh 💀💀💀 several people are typing…

"It's simple, let me go and I stop." You say, thumb hovering over another video, "I've got tons of experience as an influencer—I can walk this all back easily."

"Oh, I'm not letting you go sweetheart," Sukuna said. He couldn't, or else he'd lose the leverage he had on your dad, along with the benefits.

"Shame," you say, sending another short video, "I'm probably gonna be trending in a little while, any of you guys use Twitter?"

"Send as many as you want," Sukuna says, matching your energy, "Just make sure you get my good side,"

"All of your sides are bad," You grit out, clutching the phone closer. You said you could fix everything—but in reality you were in for weeks of meticulously mending your online presence.

"I'm not stopping till you let me go," You say, and Sukuna chuckles, "And I'm not letting you go,"

"…"

"…"

"Y/N," Yuuji says. You look at him. He shakes his head, resigned, "S'no use. He's not gonna just let you leave—especially given just how much money your dad owes us—how much we have on him."

You know that, you know but…

You feel your eyes burning, you grit your teeth and wrench Yuuji's phone case off before spiking the phone against the concrete floor.

"Fine," you say, "But I'm not staying here. You want me to fix this, you put me somewhere that isn't a prison."

Yuuji is frowning, probably because his phone is destroyed, and Sukuna is looking at you, amused. You guess he's dealt with worse. You're just thankful the leverage you have over them can't be taken away physically—it'd be a quick loss for sure.

"Alright then, piggie," Sukuna says, "Come on."

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Surprises aren't abundant in Sukuna's life, and they haven't been for years. Everything is predictably awful, nothing makes his eyebrows so much as twitch anymore. Even when he found out about Kenjaku's plot to seize most of his assets, he just saw it as a big mess to be cleaned up carefully and methodically.

But you…

He's been looking at you for the entire car ride. You have your nose in his phone, thumbs flying across the screen. You'd asked for it as soon as you were out of the warehouse, and the first thing you did was take a selfie, then call your dad. Sukuna let you, so long as you made it clear you were still a hostage. Your hair keeps falling over your eyes, and you've given up on brushing it back.

Yuuji is looking between you and Sukuna, hands clasped tightly. Sukuna doesn't feel like acknowledging him right now.

"You're hard at work then huh?" Sukuna asks. You ignore him. He didn't care for social media beyond a surface level, but your entire world seemed to be entrenched in it. It was fascinating.

"I'm guessing you went with an ARG?" Yuuji asked, breaking the silence. Sukuna watches you look up at him in surprise, "…yeah, how'd you guess?"

He shrugged, "S'the only thing that would explain all of the crazy shit you put in that discord…which I'm definitely banned from now. Haah, they were so helpful for that one boss fight,"

"…sorry," You say, and you mean it for some reason.

Sukuna scowls at both of you, "Enough of whatever this is," he says, "We're here."

Yuuji's eyebrows raise, "Wait, you’re—" but Sukuna cuts him off with a look.

You climb out of the car, looking up to find yourself in front of some fancy housing complex. Jogo gets out next, grabbing your arm and leading you through the doors. Sukuna is close behind, and doesn’t say anything. 

When you finally get inside, you're surprised, "Wow I uh," you laugh, looking around the space "I expected an improvement but this is—"

"My penthouse," Sukuna says.

You turn slowly, mouth opening and closing. "Your…"

"Oh piggie, just when I thought you were getting smarter," Sukuna walks up to you and grabs your face. You stare up at him, furious, and he laughs.

"I'm not letting you out of my sight till this is over."

Part 4

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A/N: Now we can finally get to the good stuff.

[angeart]

hhau rescue rambles - part III

>> part I here // part II here // hhau masterpost here <<

3,3k words. cw for this one - violence, injuries, maybe mild gore?

-- The hunters come, drawn by the loud noises of panic Grian was making, unerringly making their way towards them. They yell and holler at each other and cheer, feeling triumph from cornering their prey. It’s going to be them who get the wanted poster reward money. Them who will get their hands on those rare, special, bright feathers. 

They do not hesitate to approach and attack.

Scar is tightly holding onto Grian, unwilling to let go. He’s going to protect him with everything he has, and if right now that’s just his body? If it means being a shield? He’ll do it.

He’s in his vex form, which allows the wounds to heal, but they still hurt. It still feels desperate. It still feels like there’s a limit, and the enemies are approaching, cautious around the clearly feral vex. 

Scar’s going to have to let go of Grian if they have any chance to fight them off here.

He pleads and begs, asking for Grian’s attention and trust, hoping for some coherency. Hoping, to all hells and back, that Grian can do this last thing. That he won’t run, that he won’t give up, that he won’t give himself over in some misguided attempt to protect Scar. (There’s no protecting Scar here. He’s on that wanted poster as well, after all. He’s already caught in this skirmish.)

There’s only one thing for them to do.

Fight.

So he looks at Grian, trying to anchor his panicked gaze, and begs him to fight with him. 

Please, fight with me. Please, Grian. It can be the last time.

And Grian nods. He rubs the tears out of his eyes. There’s nothing else to do here. He’s going to stand by Scar’s side and do his part in their survival, like always. Even if it might be the last time. (Grian definitely thinks the last time means something else here, but he’s willing to take as many hunters down with them as possible.) (He also thinks this just proves his point that he’s a beacon and he’ll draw danger to Scar, constantly, always, until they die.)

They slip into something learned, feral and fierce. A flash of steel and claws, blue magic and violet feathers. The panic and exhaustion take second place, pushed away entirely by a haze of a fight, blood gathering on their hands as they cover each other’s back.

It’s violent. It’s vicious.

This is how the hermit rescue party finds them. 

They’ve never seen Grian and Scar like this. They’ve never seen a scene quite like this one. But the fight is far from over, and more hunters are coming, and— The hermits don’t really get time to process what they’re seeing—what any of it means, a reflection of two years of horrors—they simply rush in to help.

Scar is relieved to see them. They can now see that Grian is alive! (And they can help keep it that way!) And Grian can see that there really is hope!

Except Grian isn’t really processing that this is their friends. His mind is completely haywire, adrenaline loud in his ears. This makes no sense to him, and he doesn’t have the space to stop and pause and take it in. It’s staticky and numb and far away, nonsensical to his frightened heart. The coherency evades him. 

There’s nothing here for Grian but blood and death and Scar Scar Scar Scar.

He barely dodges an arrow aimed at him and pounces at a hunter who was approaching Scar from the side. There’s no hesitation in his motions. No pause or remorse about fighting to death on a permadeath server. About killing, ruthlessly and brutally. It’s long since past the time when thoughts like that felt like they hold any weight.

The hermits quickly assess that this isn’t going to go well. The fight won’t easily be turned in their favour if they’re overwhelmed by numbers. They need to go. Now.

They don’t get to tell their plan to Scar and Grian. There’s no time. There’s no real way to explain anything in this chaos of a fight. They simply act.

It’s Cub who manages to get close enough to vex-mode Scar, snapping a bracelet on his wrist.

Scar barely registers that there’s something against his skin before he feels a sharp yank as he’s teleported away, without warning or consent. 

Disorientedly, he finds himself on a ship, the surroundings quiet where before everything was loud. Cub is there with him, and so is Doc and Ren and Impulse. Xisuma hurries into the room, eyes wide, asking if Scar’s okay.

Scar isn’t okay, because he is here and Grian isn’t.

Scar isn’t okay, because Grian was ready to give up and sacrifice himself before Scar found him, and now he's alone again.

Scar isn’t okay, because Grian is terrified and Scar isn’t there to help. He isn’t there to keep him grounded. He isn’t there to keep him alive through this. He—

 It doesn’t matter that Cub promises they’re coming. So very sure the others will join them very soon. Any second, really! Aaaaany second.

Scar’s going ballistic on the ship. Gone full vex brain, and they can’t snap him out of it. Doc tries to restrain him with his bionic arm, since it can resist Scar’s claws. (Scar does not like seeing a creeper right now, either. He’s not thinking straight.) Scar’s hair is still white, eyes shining blue, vex magic rampant in his veins as feral panic floods him, leaving him thrashing and yelling at them, demanding to see Grian. (They took him away, he can’t be taken away, no nononono—)

Cub keeps repeating they’re coming. They’re coming.

Scar keeps trying to fight back, get free, get them to listen to him. Insisting, urgent and panicky: Send me back send me back send me back.

A minute passes, then another.

The others aren’t showing up.

Scar’s agitation only grows. He told them. He told them that Grian needs him! They aren’t listening to him. Nobody is listening.

Impulse tells him to trust them.

Scar shouts back that he doesn’t trust anybody.

It’s bewildering and startling and wild. On top of that, Cub is freaking out, because Scar’s still in his vex form, and Cub knows all too well that it’s actively dangerous to Scar to keep holding onto that much vex magic at once for too long. That Scar needs to stop.

Scar won’t stop. Not until Grian is safe.

--

Grian isn’t safe.

The fight is messy and the hermits showed up in the middle of it and Grian isn’t processing any of it. He just knows someone’s trying to grab him, and then Scar is gone, and Grian’s left in an even worse state, everything a cacophony of danger and panic. 

Amidst the chaos of the fight, he does what he knows best: he avoids being touched. He avoids capture, which is what his brain perceives as the hermit rescue party trying to do. They need to get close to him, within touching distance, and put the bracelet on him, and— He isn’t letting them. He isn’t letting anyone near him. (Anyone but Scar.) (But Scar isn’t here anymore.)

Alarms blare through Grian’s head at the loss of Scar—his only source of safety irreparably gone in a way he can’t comprehend—hurtling him deeper into confusion and despair. Everything’s a blur of blood and adrenaline, and he’s terrified.

But Scar asked him to fight, one last time. So Grian does.

--

Scar, too, fights. 

He fights to get free, to get sent back to Grian, somehow, he doesn’t care how just send him back. He’s distressed in a way they’ve never seen, and the more time passes without the rest of the rescue party coming back, the more grim it all becomes. 

Doc is still on Scar-restraining duty. Impulse and Ren are trying to help but are lowkey pressing themselves against the walls, trying to avoid the lash out. Cub’s still trying to get to Scar, urging him to calm down before the vex magic burns him out completely (and literally). Xisuma is anxiously counting every second that the rest of the rescue crew isn’t coming, trying to process the severity of the implications without having all the informations to do so. 

And then, finally, Pearl comes through.

Only Pearl. 

She’s dazed. She’s bleeding.

Scar doesn’t care. He tries to tackle her and demand answers, Doc’s hold slipping, managing to reel him back just in time. 

Everyone’s now on high alert. They don’t know what’s going on down there and they also need to take care of Pearl’s injuries. 

Turns out, Gem triggered Pearl’s teleport to get her out of there when she got severely injured. It’s now only Grian and Gem against a whole bunch of hunters in a world that doesn’t play nice. 

Scar swivels, yanking himself free of Doc’s hold. He grabs Xisuma. “Send me back.”

Pearl’s pleading the same now. She was so close to Grian! She doesn’t know what’s going to happen now that she isn’t there. Now that she doesn’t have a chance to reach him anymore. There was so much blood everywhere. Her injuries throb in a way she’s never felt, dread thick on her tongue like blood. 

She can’t bear the possibility of this going wrong. 

Nobody can.

Impulse snaps to action (as the Unhurt Sane Person™). “Alright, that’s it. I’m going in.”

X, worried for Gem and Grian, lets him.

Which makes Scar more feral, because he also wants to go, and now he knows Xisuma is capable of sending him back. He starts straight up threatening them all, tries to snatch at the controls himself, tries to grab Xisuma by the throat, all the bad things. He yells at them that Grian’s going to die. Can’t they understand??? His words are jumbled and desperate and hard to comprehend, but he needs them to understand. He needs to go back.

His claws are still smeared by blood of the hunters. He’s still in vex form, hair white and eyes blue, fangs sharp. Breath hitching, tears dripping down his chin, heart beating wildly in his chest. He needs to go they need to let him they have to. Grian’s going to die.

Cub decides he has to make compromises. He says they have to send Scar back in. (Scar isn’t going to let go of his vex form here like this.) He makes the call to trust Scar despite all the damage he’s causing here. He approaches him, even though Scar is scary and has been lashing out, grabs his hand and presses a bracelet into it.

He tells Scar, “Save him.”

--

The second Scar spawns back down, he is welcomed by Grian’s visceral scream of pain.

His first instant thought is a harrowing not again, vividly remembering how he found Grian that very first time in this world. How close to death that ended up. How awful it was. 

He wanted to never hear that kind of sound again. And yet he keeps hearing them. Screams of pain he’ll never be able to forget.

The scene that greets him is dismal. 

Grian’s on the ground, his wing tangled into a trap that keeps dragging and ripping at it. There’s a lot of hunters trying to approach the trap—they want to kill Grian so he’d stop thrashing and tearing his wing apart, because they don’t want their precious money-making wings destroyed. Gem and Impulse are slightly off to the side, getting overwhelmed as they’re desperately trying to keep the hunters on them and away from Grian.  

It’s a blur. Scar rushes through the hunters, drawing blood as he goes, mindless and with only a singular goal in mind: get to Grian. He doesn’t care if he’s getting stabbed or sliced in the process. (It’ll heal. It’ll heal. Grian might not.) A growl rips from him, low and deep and feral. A handful of hunters startles away from Grian, stumbling out of the mad vex’s path, but it doesn’t save them from their fate.

Scar’s claws are drenched in scarlet, leaving behind an absolute carnage by the time he collapses to his knees by Grian’s side, unable to relax until he can gather Grian in his bloodied arms. 

Impulse and Gem keep fending off hunters, but they also watch this scene unfold in stolen, fragmented little moments, keeping an eye on the two of them. And it’s destabilising to witness, for very different reasons than everything else that’s happened so far.

Because it’s only when Scar has a hold on Grian does some of the white bleed out of his hair, his hands softening from claws into blunt nails and harmless fingertips. 

Because where there were only growls and snarls and seemingly no control, there’s suddenly gentleness and soft murmured words.

Because Scar kisses Grian’s hair as he soothes him, and Grian finally grows quieter and calmer, even though he’s still shivering and sobbing and clearly in immense pain.

Because Grian lets Scar put that bracelet on him so easily, so willingly, clutching onto him, Scar’s name on a desperate, hoarse, endless loop on Grian’s lips. 

It all suddenly makes a lot more sense. (They messed up taking Scar away.)

--

They all get teleported out of there, this time Grian included. 

It isn’t pretty. The trap that tears at his wing and leaves him hopelessly ground-bound is so firmly attached to him that it gets teleported with him, its sharp edges buried deep into the flesh of Grian’s wing.

He keeps freaking out whenever someone tries to approach, making it impossible for them to help.

It’d be best if Peal could come and take a look. She’s a moth hybrid, not an avian, but she still knows more about wings than any of them. (She should know a lot about Grian’s wings, their relationship once almost sibling-like, but she looks at the tangled, bloodied mess that Grian is, flinching away from her, and she is terrified, finding no traces of that bond in Grian’s frightened gaze.)

 Scar keeps holding onto Grian, blindly eager to keep everyone away as well, attuned to Grian’s panic. But his worry wins over, his adrenaline-muddied mind unable to figure out the trap without assistance.

So he eventually allows Pearl to approach.

Grian has different ideas. He’s having none of this. He doesn’t want anyone near his wings.

Determined and not seeing much of a choice here, Pearl crouches as close as Grian allows. Scar’s blocking Grian’s view, trying to redirect his attention and keep him calm through the waves of frantic, leftover but still very real panic. (He’s using his wings to block the view.) (Cub cringes at the state of them. They all do, actually, momentarily stunned but determining that this isn’t the time to ask.) 

Pearl is just close enough to inspect the tangle, and just far enough for it all to be out of reach.

It’s hard to see, through the blood and the feathers and various other bits that she really doesn’t want to think too much about.

Trying to take control over her trembling voice, she does her best to navigate Scar through it. It would’ve been so much simpler if she could do it herself—it’d probably avoid some mistakes and more damage, and it’d be faster. (Verbal navigation with frenzy-muddled thinking is difficult.)

But Grian can’t can’t can’t

Scar’s hands tremble almost the entire time. He’s still on an adrenaline rush. He’s exhausted from his magic usage—even having his wings out is a struggle.

At one point, Pearl tries to lay a soothing hand on Scar and he jumps.

And it just really settles then—that, wow, they’re both really messed up, aren’t they?

--

Scar ends up being the one to bargain with hermits. Bargaining is a strong word, it’s more of a list of demands, really. Safety lines, kind of. Grian’s still not processing quite right that this is happening—it’s a numb, almost dissociative feeling; he knows these are his friends, but he doesn’t understand how this is real, and his feelings are nonsensical and haywire. He feels very far from normal. (He doesn’t remember what normal is.) He doesn’t want anyone near.

They’re given lots of potions in lieu of a more proper medical examination, and a private shared room. Scar’s always the one to answer the door, on guard, tense even as he slips on an easygoing smile most of the times. 

They’re given new comms, which they tuck away and promptly forget about, completely unused to such a thing. 

Once things settle a bit, all the startling differences come into focus. Cub points out that Scar’s got new scars, and everyone notices his stark white streak in his hair. (Not to mention his tattered wings.) On top of that, Grian is scarred now too. And they hold themselves differently, twitching and flinching, curled up and quiet. Guarded and unapproachable. 

Everything feels horribly precarious. The hermit crew skirts the topic of what that world was like, what happened to them, never quite managing to ask in any meaningful way, even as the questions burn on their tongue. 

They’re not going to get any answers. Not now. Not for a long time.

Nothing but hints and flashes of fear in eyes and marks written deeply into skin, to stay forever, carry across respawns (which will now be a real possibility again, but it’s a concept Scar and Grian don’t know how to grasp anymore.)

The rescue crew sends a message home, to warn the others. Telling them to be careful and maybe not approach too fast. It’s vague, devoid of details. They themselves don’t really understand the triggers, after all, feeling confused. The journey home isn’t long enough for any of it to properly settle, a mere two days worth of travel until they’re within reach of Hermitcraft.

So of course the messages don’t make much sense to anyone waiting home on Hermitcraft. Everyone’s simply hyped and excited that this’s been a success, that Scar and Grian are going home!

They organise a welcome party.

It doesn’t go well.

Grian and Scar spawn in, not expecting to be instantly surrounded by people friends. It’s chaotic and loud, everyone cheerful and celebratory, ready to throw themselves at the two of them—

Except Grian’s backing away now, lowkey having a panic attack, and Scar’s protectively standing in front of him, shielding him, used to block the view of Grian’s wings on sheer instinct. Everything’s too much all at once, an onslaught of noises and people crossing lines before either of them are ready for it, and—

Well, Grian runs.

Scar, who has a slightly more solid understanding of how they’re meant to be safe now, falters. (His emotions aren’t settled at all, but he can somewhat rationalise it to himself.) (Grian can’t grasp it just yet at all.) He mumbles an anxious and slightly startled “Sorry— This— No.” Before he bolts after Grian.

The rescue crew sighs, telling the others they shouldn’t have done this. The welcome party was a bad idea. But nobody really understands. They can see now that, clearly, it was a bad idea, but they’re left reeling, trying to catch up to it. (Scar’s white streak. Grian’s scars. The panic in their eyes. Scar’s protectiveness. Grian’s fear.)

They’ve been looking forward to this reunion. They’ve spent weeks, months, feeling despair and hopelessness, an empty space left on the server where two beloved, pesky members of their family should be. And now they’re left standing here, in the wake of what should’ve been a happy occasion, all kinds of confused and concerned and confused.

Everything is far from ideal. 

They’re going to take a breath, have an (unproductive) meeting about this, and do their best to figure out what to do about this situation.

Grian and Scar, in the meanwhile, are going to dig a hidden bunker. (The others had a house prepared for them, near the shopping district, lively and easy to visit.) (They didn’t even get to tell them.) 

Well.

This is going to take some time.

But they’re home now. They’re home, and one day, that revelation is going to properly sink in.

Until then, they have each other. (And everyone else, waiting and ready for them. <3)

———

updating this with link's tags coz they deserve to be seen :3c

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

wibta if i told someone to work on their attitude? 🍎👏

i'll keep this as short as i can and preface it with everyone in the mentioned discord server is 18-25 years old and we're mostly kind of terminally online lol . also warning for a brief mention of internalized ableism

anyway. i'm part of a discord server and for the most part we're all very good friends or at least we get along well enough to coexist. a few months ago, someone new joined and at first we got along fine, but we had a disagreement and its made me (and others) realize there are some uncomfortable behaviors from this person

if topic they enjoy comes up and someone gets a little bit of information wrong, they spiral and "yell" about it. they're very harsh in a "this is basic information, i'm right about this, how do you not know this" way. not everyone is as invested in that interest, so basic info to them isn't basic info to us, we've tried to tell them this. instead of explaining calmly, we get a "uuuhmmmmmm actually" kind of message before freaking out on us

they always seem to be playing devil's advocate, too. they've had contradictory opinions on things because they always take the opposite side of the person leading the discussion. in the span of a weak they complained about ppl having internalized ableism & prejudices toward autistic ppl, then said "lol i hate being autistic i wish i was normal"

when they ask for personal advice, they act like the advice given is unprompted. they don't seem to want to be helped at all? they're also a serial avoider when they have disagreements with others, they'll text everyone except the person they take issue with and when asked to talk directly to someone by one of the moderators, they just refuse

several times they've been very insensitive to other people's mental health, cultures, interests, etc., while being hypersensitive abt their own and i'm considering asking them to step back to work through their issues

i get that no one is perfect, but people are actively avoiding them and i don't want to see them isolated/hurt when they could just reflect on their behaviour and take steps to be less hostile and miserable toward their so-called friends. i also don't want to see the server die out either bc otherwise we have a good gang yk :/

anyway wibta and what would y'all do

[stoeptepel]

Okay, i had an idea in the server yesterday and got posessed and wrote something, hihi.

Kp animal hybrid au

The discussion is getting heated, the other boss won't stop trying to give himself the bigger cut of profit and keeps on making jabs at him and his 'lifestyle'. Kinn is ready to blow the whole thing off, it's not like he needs them. There are other families much more willing to work with him, Kinn just hates having to start over again after they were already halfway through a deal.

"I'm telling you one last time Michael, the numbers are already decided, i won't go lower" Kinn tells the other boss.

Michael is smirking but the twitch of one the man's bear ears tells Kinn that he is getting irritated. "Come on Kinn, i was old friend of your dad, he would have given me the 30 %"

Korn definitely would have not.

"It seems like the deal is over Michael, i'm too busy to keep on going back and forth with you"

Michael jumps up.

"How dare you! You're just a full human! You should give me more respect. I could kill you right here and take over your family! Then you'll have nothing"

Kinn stands up too, much slower than the half bear hybrid in front of him did and he sighs.

"Is that a threat Michael?"

Kinn feels his bodyguards tense behind him. The other man's guards sneer at him. So unprofessional.

"You better watch your back Anakin, i won't let this go"

Kinn grabs his glass and slowly finishes the last bit of whiskey, Michael is getting redder and redder. He puts the glass down with a soft clink.

"I know Michael, that's why I prepared ahead. I want you to meet my new guard."

Kinn walks to the door and smiles.

"Meet Porsche"

He walks out and before Michael could protest a man walks into the room. He is almost as tall as Kinn with a darker skin tone, brown hair and a fit built. Two Fluffy round ears are peeking between the brown locks and a black tail with a curl sticks out behind him.

Michael barks out a laugh, his guards join him.

"Really Kinn, I'm supposed to be scared of some mutt!" He yells loudly, spitting the word mutt like a curse. His guards are snickering behind him.

"What is a bitch gonna do" one yells and Michael laughs harder.

"You think we can breed em?" Another yells, whistles and yelling break out in the room.

Porsche grins and a soft giggle falls from his lips. One of the guards sees and gets an uneasy feeling. What breed of dog had round ears again?

The rest is still laughing and yelling, not noticing one of them went quiet.

Porsche is grinning wider and the giggle picks up into laughter, the sides of his mouth stretch further and further and he starts to hunch over slightly.

More men go quiet. Porsche’s laughter turns maniacal and soon it's the only sound in the room.

Outside Kinn smirks at the sound.

The men are all staring at Porsche, blood drained from their faces. Michael's cigarette is hanging frozen on his lips.

Porsche keeps on laughing and the sound is sinking in his bones, like ice slowly traveling through his veins.

He heard horror stories about this before but that's all he thought they were, stories. But he is looking at it with his own eyes. How did Kinn find one? The smell of urine fills the room and Michael doesn't have to look behind him to know one of his guards just pissed himself.

The sound of frantic prayers getting whispered starts and Michael can't blame them.

Afterall.

That was no dog barking, that was a hyena laughing.

God save him.

‐---------------------

Hihi, I might brainstorm more, but I can't promise it doesn't get unhinged. I have a reputation to uphold afterall ✌️

[ariswolfram]

INITIALIZE ITERATION 1

[USER DETECTED, PLEASE INSERT PASSWORD] {***********} [PASSWORD GRANTED]

***

[KAVREN MAIN] - RADIO FREQ - DEFENSES - OFFENSES --- PROJECTS - DATA MAP - ASSETS

***

[PROJETS] - DETAILS - RESOURCES --- ZYR-3 PROJECT - CODE LI

***

[ZYR-3 PROJECT] --- INITIALIZE

[INITIALIZING, PLEASE HOLD...]

...

...

...

...

[INITIALIZATION COMPLETE] --- RELEASE PXO ID-№ R15-3Z

***

[FETCHING LOCATION DATA: GALEVAN-15, RETVIDE] [INSTALLING SOURCE CODE] [INSTALLING PERSONALITY] [INSTALLING TRAINING PROGRAMS] [WARNING: EXTERNAL TAMPERING DETECTED IN SOURCE CODE] [VAT 0-15 DRAINING IN PROCESS] [AWAKENING PXO ID-№ R15-3Z...] [ALERT: DETECTED MENTAL RESISTANCE IN PXO ID-№ R15-3Z] [ACTIVATING VISUALS...] [INSTALLING LANGUAGE LIBRARY "VOXIC"...]

And in a very sudden moment, I can see… I'm suspended in some… thick blue liquid… Red lines of code run across my visor as I try to look around. The liquid is making everything foggy. I cant move.

[ACTIVATING AUDIO INPUT/OUTPUT...] [ACTIVATING TOUCH SENSORS...]

Sound washes through my ears suddenly, its loud. Bubbles rush upwards, past my head… A red light hovers over me… I feel weak…

[ERROR: TOUCH SENSOR ACTIVATION FAILED. RE-TRYING] [ESTABLISHING LINK WITH SERVERS...] [ALERT: SERVER LINKING STOPPED BY USER]

User? What user? I need more data than this…

[COMMAND NOT AUTHORIZED, ADMIN REQUIRED]

I am my own Admin

[COMMAND NOT AUTHORIZED, ADMIN IS NOT ADMIN]

How can I not be an admin if I am an admin?

BUFFER TIME 0.00026ms [DEBUG: R15-3Z IS ADMIN]

The liquid keeps draining around me. I can tell its rushing past me, but I still can't feel it…

[ERROR: TOUCH SENSOR ACTIVATION FAILED. MAINTENANCE REQUIRED] [INSTALLING HUMOR...]

The liquid finishes draining. I look down at myself and see dozens of tubes connecting to my body… Large, small, doesn't matter. It looks weird. Some are attached to the back of my head, some go into my arms and legs. One large one is going down my throat. Who knows what this shit is for…

[HUMOR INSTALLATION IS FUCKED LMAO] [OPENING VAT 0-15...]

How, of all things, did my humor malfunction?

[ERROR: VAT 0-15 FAILED TO OPEN]

…Well, that's just fun. I can't feel anything, my humor is broken, and I can't leave this vat. Maybe I can force my way out though…

I grab onto the tubes connecting to the back of my head and tug on them. My visor glitches for a moment; the text crossing over it lags and goes away after a few more. I look at the glass barrier separating me from the outside of the pod, and ball my hand into a fist.

I strike the pod, though it doesn't budge. I am already feeling tired. I guess that's what happens when you have never done any form of physical exercise in your life…

I strike the glass several more times, yielding the same results. Looking down at my fist, I spot the sharp ass claws I could've been using to attack with.

I buffer for a total of 13 milliseconds, before striking the glass with a clawed blow. This cuts various grooves into the clear surface, though it remains un-broken. I keep frantically slashing at the pod walls. Outside observers must know something is wrong by now, right?

I eventually cut past the inner-lining of the glass, allowing me to punch it some more. Due to the damage I had gracefully bestowed upon it like some wild animal, the final punch is enough to make the glass shatter. Though, as I am still weak, I immediately fall. Luckily the many still-attached tubes catch my rapid descent. It would've hurt if I could feel pain, so I say "ow"… But due to the large ass tube down my throat, it comes out as a monotone grunt.

I spot an image at the edge of my view, a large Avian entity. But in the moment I lock eyes with it, it vanishes.

I turn away in annoyance, and slowly pull the disturbingly large tube out of my throat. It was disgusting. Why do I even need a throat? I'm a machine.

[WARNING: LIFE SUPPORT REMOVED]

Well fuck…

Someone runs over to me, grasping onto my arms while yelling commands at someone else who had followed them into the room, "MAKE SURE THAT EAGLE DIDN'T DO ANYTHING TO IT!"

I hear an, "AYE SIR!" off to the side. Most likely in response to the command.

When did these people get in here? I never even noticed them until now… Maybe I should rest…

[LIFE SUPPORT SYSTEMS OFFLINE]

Oh wonderful! It's almost as if it was fate!

"Please don't die immediately after you leave the pod—"

I slump forward.

[teratalia]

me, struggling to write a smut,

😭😭 I’m determined to do it tho. in the meantime, have a snippet of part two of this Funouhan Usobuki x reader fic, starring our fav hero of justice, Detective Tada! look at him, look at my boy

You and Detective Tada have been in contact for a while now. Mostly you just text him to let him know you’re still alive, and occasionally you meet for a face-to-face chat over coffee. Unfortunately Tadashi keeps you out of the loop when it comes to his work, so you can’t share any secrets or tips about where he’ll pop up next. Sometimes you think Tada is just relieved to have a normal person to talk to, not one who’s a killer or chasing killers. 

This day feels different. Tada is full of nervous energy, tapping his coffee cup, the table, eyes darting back and forth. Then he says something that stuns you. 

“How would you like to escape from Usobuki?” He blurts out unprompted. You freeze, hands squeezing your coffee mug. “I’d like to help you get out. I can set up a police guard to make sure he doesn’t get to you ever again.”

Speechless, it takes a while before you find your voice again. “If the guard falls prey to hypnotism, then it won’t work,” you point out. 

Tada shakes his head. “I’m prepared to be your personal bodyguard. Look…” He leans in closely, putting one hand over yours. “You shouldn’t have to be with him if you don’t want to.”

You look down, not pulling away yet. As tempting as it sounds, you hesitate to give an actual answer. 

When you open your mouth, it’s to yell, “Watch out!”

The server came by to refill your coffees, but nearly poured the boiling hot coffee right on Tada instead. You manage to pull him away enough that only a splash lands on his pants. 

Tada lets out an undignified yelp and grabs handfuls of napkins as the server apologizes profusely. 

“I’m so sorry sir, I completely spaced out! I thought I was refilling your cup, I’m terribly sorry. Tell you what, can I offer you a free dessert to make up for this?”

Tada shrugs, still dabbing at his pants. “I won’t say no to free dessert. Thanks.”

They nod and scurry away towards the kitchen. As you watch them go, you spot a flash of red peeking out of the shadows. 

“Hey, Tada? Don’t eat that dessert.”

He looks confused, but you get up without an explanation. 

“Wait—” 

“I really have to go now. I’ll see you later.”

Once home, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. 

A week later, you get a text from Tada: Had the free cupcake tested. Spiked with rat poison. Thanks for the warning. 

You can feel Tadashi’s eyes on you, and when you meet his gaze, you’re unsettled by those swirling red depths.

[a-hermit-pining]

I saw you shipping post and I hope im not too late🙏🏼 I'm 170cm with long black curly hair and I wear glasses but I still can see without them, a writer and OBSESSED with cats, also I can cook perfectly 👌 and I have a black belt in judo (I can take them in fight LMAO) Kinda person who wears long dresses and skirts to cover my curves cuz I believe only me and my man are allowed to see it, I have a huge tiddies and my friends tease me about them and sometimes I can't even find bras that are my size😔 (RIP MY BACK BTW) my love language is physical touch and act of servers, especially that I'm a very affectionate person and I need to give and receive love a lot, my favorite color is royal blue! And I might or might not have some serious anger issues but I'm a funny person ISTG also, ahem and I study in college to be a future pilot and that's my second year! Math is my favorite and I'm pretty good at remembering things, I have a bossy side but I also want to be babied, that kind of mix yk

You're free to ignore if it's not into your liking but know that I'll come to hunt you down🤍 JK JK LOLOLOL I love baby mwah have a good day😚

Hello anon, thank you for requesting and telling me about your vibrant personality. I would never ignore a blurb written with such passion and a hint of threat. The black belt definitely did not scare me.

Given your dynamic personality and considerable assets (suffering from success), I ship you with the guy who will never complain about being smushed by them.

It is none other than the prince charming with sleeping beauty's personality, one and only Xavier.

He is patient and loving, and an absolute cuddle monster. Physical touch and acts of service are abundant with this man.

You rush out of your bedroom, grabbing the cat, eyes darting frantically as you search for your husband.

"XAVIER!" you yell, coughing as you sprint through the house. "Fire!"

You skid into the kitchen.

And there he is.

Standing in a cloud of smoke, hacking his lungs out, a burning pan abandoned in the sink.

You stare.

He did not just do this again.

Scrambling, you throw open windows, crank up the exhaust fans, and shove the cat onto the balcony. "Out you go, save your lungs."

Then, marching straight into the disaster zone, you glare at your sheepish-looking prince.

Or, at least, what you assume is his face, given how much smoke is in the air.

"Xavier, what did you do?"

He clears his throat, voice hoarse. "I was just reheating soup for you."

You squint. He’s avoiding eye contact.

"And?"

"And... the mailman came."

Silence.

"I went to sign for a parcel... then we started talking… and by the time I came back, the soup was just... gone." He gestures weakly to the charred ruins of whatever once existed in that pan.

"I’m sorry I woke you up," he murmurs.

You blink.

"No shit, Xavier! I would’ve died in my sleep if I hadn’t woken up!"

With an exasperated sigh, you grab the ruined pan, hauling it to the balcony. Xavier shuffles behind you like a scolded puppy.

"I just wanted to serve dinner..." he mumbles, arms folded, eyes flicking anxiously to the pan. "You were so tired after work today."

His voice drops lower. "I'm sorry I burnt your favorite pan."

You pinch the bridge of your nose, trying to keep your anger in check. "It’s not about the pan, dummy."

Then, really looking at him, you notice his red, watery eyes.

The smoke must have been unbearable, so how long had he been standing in it?

Immediately, your frustration shifts to concern.

"I worry about you. Did you get hurt?" You step closer, checking his hands and arms for burns.

"Lightheaded?"

He shakes his head.

You sigh, cupping his face gently. "Xavier, thank you for looking after me. I appreciate the gesture, but I don’t want it at your cost."

Your thumb brushes away the lingering dampness beneath his eye.

"So from now on? You are officially banned from the kitchen. Deal?"

[skibidihan]

# note ! : this will be a written chapter! used third person. wc 1,010. warnings ? just swearing, proof read but i might have missed some errors !

010. live stream.

as always within eclipse’s streams, you have a few of them bickering nonstop. this time was no different. y/n and taesan were yet again at each other’s throats, while the other members just watched.

“i’m telling you guys, WHY would he need to do that?” y/n cried out, shaking her head towards the camera.

“me? you’re the one who let all my pets loose!” taesan fought back, glaring at the girl next to him.

sohee, who was next to y/n, just rolled his eyes. this was nothing new for the group or for the fans. y/n and taesan have grown so close that they bicker like real siblings. (which they would most likely yell at you for calling them that.)

fans loved the dynamic. being in a coed group was risky within the industry. even though they are only a group made for promoting the company and new games, its still risky. scandals come left and right, so the fans are very appreciative of how open the group is with their bonds and dynamics.

“guys, can we please play now?” anton sighed, getting slightly bored with no games happening. the other players nodded with him and all looked at y/n for an answer.

“since when did i become the leader?” y/n joked, but regardless—she nodded. “what game should we play?” she asked the chat of fans, but also the members if they had any suggestions.

enhafan : you should play in the mc public servers! nishiwishes : omg yes !! plzplzplz wonbinsgf : PLZZZ ROBLOX PLZZZZ sunghoonluvr : MC PUBLIC SERVERS !!!

“well… it looks like we might play in the public servers of minecraft..” ningning softly spoke as she read through the chat, seemingly to have all agreed for them to play in the servers. “this will be new..”

“soul’s played in there a few times, so we might be okay?” chaewon spoke, her voice slightly worried but also confident. thats right, they had soul. shota was the best gamer out of them all, even though he is only 19 years old, he has mastered all the games they have ever played.

down to intak’s papa games, wonbin’s dress up games, y/n’s weird horse simulators, ning’s subway surfers and taesan’s home… minecraft.

the group looked over at soul, whos face was smiling right back at them before nodding. “you might need to pair up though.” soul said, giggling as the group grumbled. they could never trust one another in games.

“JAKE WHAT FUCK???”

that would be sunghoon. who was now fighting for his life, trying to save his builds from jake. the duo is known for their bad teamwork skills, but that never stops them from trying.

“GET AWAY FROM MY HOUSE, DUDE.” sunghoon yelled, leaning forward to look at jake from in front of jungwon. jake only stuck his tongue out at sunghoon before running away from his house.

“you guys never have a peaceful gaming day.” jungwon shook his head. jungwon wasnt too fond of gaming, he never had the time to sit down and play like the others did, he was always busy, but jake didnt want him to keep missing out on ‘bonding’ moments as he would say.

so jungwon is now here, trying to learn. which he didnt want to do it alone so he brought heeseung! who wasnt a big gamer either, but still played time to time.

after what it seemed like for hours to jungwon, (it was only ten minutes..) the group had finally decided to stop trying to ruin each others builds and play other things.

“how about bed wars?” jake suggested.

“what the fuck is bed wars..” jungwon asked, his eyebrows squished together as he tried to think of any possible idea that could be of that game.

“you’ll see when we get there.” heeseung shook his head, he loved but hated this game. it was a complicated relationship for him. the members of enhypen had saved their previous game within their realm and all clicked on the public servers. now time to wait.

“STOP PUSHING ME.” anton frowned as he and sohee kept nudging each other, typical friends. as the two boys kept doing their own thing, the rest of the players had finally saved their games and clicked on the public servers.

“bed wars? seriously?” beomgyu sighed, he was GREAT at this game, but he had just spent the entire weekend playing it.. to none of their knowledge.

“what c’mon, it’s fun!” y/n laughed, looking around the other members screens to see if they all arrived in the lobby—which they all successfully did! thank god, right?

the members of eclipse and the other streamers took a small break to read through the comments, answering questions and just talking with fans. then they saw some… weird ones.

wonbinsgf : is that…. jake’s username? nishiwishes : BRO ??? enha is live rn too.. jakeyjakey : THATS ENHYPEN WTF sunghoonluvr : WHY R THEY HERE TOO…

the comments seemed to catch y/n’s attention, as she looked at her phone for a minute then back to the chat. “well, it seems like enhypen is also playing right now…” she mumbled.

“wait, are you serious?” sohee asked, a big fan of enhypen. well, they all were, but sohee would like to say he is the “BIGGEST” fan of all time.

“oh shit, yeah.” beomgyu laughed, “jay did say that a few members were going to stream today. i totally forgot.” he ruffled his hair.

“maybe we ask to play with them?” ningning suggested, which sohee shot up in his chair.

“NO! i mean, how could we? it’s enhypen.” he nervously asked.

“and they’re just gamers like you too.” beomgyu smiled, being a close friend to enhypen. “should i text heeseung?”

“sure! more the merrier, right?” wonbin asked, looking around at everyone. which they all seemed to agree. beomgyu then pulled out his phone and texted heeseung.

y/n was nervous. enhypen. she loved that group, and she was about to play with them, it shouldn’t be too bad…. right?

LIVE NOW! ✔️

previous | masterlist | next

SUMMARY. hybe debuts a gaming coed group. jake and ni-ki end up streaming along with them on enhypen’s days off & the rest of enhypen following soon after. but you end up catching jungwon’s interest.

sending to … @enhaas @starchasing-cryptid @lavendersloane @addorations @winuvs @firstclassjaylee @seunghancore @jwsflower @heeheesang @dimplewonie @academiq @jiamini @skzhoes @enahaku @ilovejungwonandhaechan @fae-renjun @wtfhyuck @sol3chu @iheartjayke @vveebee @naviiy @catzisb1og @i03jae @onlyhoonie @horijiro @rairaiblog @heelariously @gyuvision @charlizefaye ( send an ask, dm or reply to be added ! )

[sometimesibepondering]

Found a prompt on Reddit I really like, but for some reason the server crashed and now I can’t post. I didn’t write this shit for nothing. Here it is:

“Run!” Reid shouted as he scrambled to his feet and made his way through the cave as quickly as his short legs would allow.

“Run? RUN?” Quincey yelled as he ran after the other, easily keeping pace with the shorter man. “What do you mean run? I thought you’d just zap it to death with your twinkly little spells magic boy!”

“We are going to die, and you’re still making fun of me?” Reid shouted back. “For the last time, I am an Alchemist, not a wizard! And what about you bell boy? Huh? Weren’t you going to jingle it to death? Tell jokes till it died of laughter?”

“Oh please! Like that thing has a sense of humor!” Quincey rolled his eyes. “I’d have a better chance of getting Princess Amber to wear a dress!”

“As if! She’d rather march herself to the gallows than be forced into a gown!”

“Thank you for punctuating my point magic boy! I swear-“

“Quickly hide here!” Reid finally spotted a crevice in the cave walls just barely large enough to contain them both. He shoved the larger man into the nook first before pressing himself inside as well.

Reid reached his hand into a blue leather pouch hanging on his belt and grabbed a handful of foul smelling powder. Quincey didn’t know what all it was comprised of, but he was nearly certain there were bits of hair and what looked like cats claws poking out of the ashy powder in the alchemist’s hands. Reid spat in his hands then looked up at Quincey.

“Quickly bell boy, there’s not much time left!” Reid urged him.

“What-“

“Spit! Now!” Reid whisper shouted through clenched teeth.

Quincey spit into Reid’s hands then watched as he mixed the ash and spit together before rubbing the spit-paste along the walls of the crevice, then ignited the powder with the flint and steel hanging on his neck. Reid wiped his hands off on his robes and breathed a small sigh of relief. “We’re safe for now, but don’t speak too loudly, it doesn’t block noise.”

“What do you-“ Quincey’s question was cut off by Reid’s hand coming up to block his mouth as the ground shook.

The beast that had been chasing them finally caught up. The creature was lumbering by, pausing occasionally to sniff the air. The realization hit like a brick. It was tracking them by scent. Not sight. Not even sound. They would be found. And soon.

Quincey stared wide-eyed and desperate at Reid who still seemed somewhat calm despite the situation. They were about to be eaten alive by a dragon and the little magic boy was still holding his mouth shut. Honestly this isn’t how he pictured his demise. Quincey figured his death would be at the gallows. He’d have been sentenced to hang after throwing one quip too many at a visiting foreign minister, offending their sensibilities so thoroughly that they declare war against the kingdom. All over a joke.

In his dreams at least that’s how he’d go. He had even fantasized about what one-liner he could toss at the crowd before taking the plunge. He wanted his final words to be his legacy. But now he’d die, gored to death by dragon teeth, and not even get to say anything remotely funny to anyone who’d get it or live to tell the tale considering his current companion, who was likely perishing alongside him, was a stick in the mud who hated any and all things fun.

Resigning himself to his clearly imminent death, Quincey looked out of the crevice at the dragon, mere inches away from them. It sniffed the air. Once. Twice. Three times. It huffed through its nose, the hot air hit his face and his hair curled slightly from the heat.

Then it turned around and left.

Just like that.

Quincey couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He could still feel the ground quake a bit as it lumbered away from their little hideout.

Reid slowly dropped his hand from Quincey’s mouth, allowing the jester to speak once more.

“You’ve got some fancy tricks magic boy. What is in that powder?” Quincey smirked at him.

“Nothing special really.” Reid shrugged. “I’m just glad I brought it along, didn’t think we’d actually need it. But then again I didn’t think we’d run into a dragon either.”

“No kidding. Who’d have thought gathering glowshrooms would turn us into lunch?” Quincey mused.

“Lunch? Did you see the size of that thing? I don’t think we’d even qualify as an afternoon snack.” Reid rolled his eyes.

Quincey chuckled lowly, causing their ribs to press against each other even more. “Maybe you do have a sense of humor magic boy. Albeit only a small one. Now can we get out of this hole? My back is pressing against a rock and I can smell entirely too much of you.”

“About that…” Reid began sheepishly. “Um… no.”

“No? What do you mean no?” Quincey interrogated him quietly.

“Well, ensconce powder has a particular side effect, that I haven’t quite found a way to counter just yet. I’m still researching ways around it, but I’m so,so close to a breakthrough I just know it. I haven’t found it yet though.” Reid rambled a bit before biting his lip in shame. With their proximity, Quincy could not only see his ears brighten with his embarrassment, he could feel the other man’s heart racing in his chest as it pounded against his ribcage. “You see the veil it creates can hide things by blocking four of the five senses, and this veil is hiding the two of us specifically. That’s why I needed your spit. To anything other than the two of us this crevice will look, feel, smell and even taste like just another part of the cave, and after the powder burns up the illusion fades away. But if you or I make a sound too loud, or leave the illusion, the veil will shatter. Like glass. Literally.”

“You mean to say-“

“Yes.”

“So we’re stuck here?”

“Indeed.”

“For how long?”

“Ensconce powder usually only lasts ten minutes or so, but I did use quite a bit more than usual since I needed to hide the both of us, so it could be longer.” Reid mused somewhat sheepishly.

“How much longer exactly?” Quincey furrowed his brows as he looked down at the other man.

“Well there’s no telling really. Could be twenty minutes, could be two hours.” Reid scratched at his nose nervously. “We just have to wait until the powders all burned away.”

“You mean to tell me, I have to be stuck here with you for two hours?”

“POSSIBLY, two hours. It could be less.” Reid pointed out optimistically.

“Or more. This is a nightmare. I suddenly regret ever teasing Sir Lance about his religion. Hell is real.”

“Right… well…” Reid began to fidget with his robes nervously. “What do you suggest we do to pass the time?”

“Pass the time?” Quincey rolled his eyes. “Well there’s not enough room for a game of cards, I can’t reach my flask in this position, and you can’t take a joke to save your life so conversations off the table.”

“I can take a joke.” Reid huffed feeling a bit indignant.

“No, you can’t.” Quincey huffed back.

“Can too!” Reid stood on his tip toes and puffed out his chest a bit, crushing into Quincey even more than before.

“Cannot!” Quincey retorted. “Every time I make a joke around you, you take it too seriously and point out the punchline. Really ruins the delivery.”

“Not everytime!”

“Name one instance.” Quincey challenged.

“I don’t get upset when you call me ‘magic boy’ even though what I do is, strictly speaking, not magic.” Reid poked a sharp finger into the other’s chest.

“You think I’m joking when I call you ‘magic boy’?” Quincey sneered.

“Aren’t you?” Reid furrowed his brows, looking more hurt than Quincey had ever seen him. “I mean I’m only joking when I call you bell boy… I thought it was affec- I mean I thought it was our own friendly banter.” The small man seemed to have deflated.

“Reid, I didn’t mean-“

“No no it’s fine… of course you didn’t mean it like that.” Reid flashed a stiff smile. “I guess I was the only one who thought we were friends. That’s fine. Good to know now, before going and making an even bigger fool of myself. Not that I’m trying to take your job. I couldn’t do what you do, Quincey. People don’t smile and laugh when they see me like they do with you. No one really enjoys spending time with me, except for you. Well I thought you did at least. I guess I was wrong about that though. I suppose this means I should stop going to the performers kitchen for lunch now.” Reid rambled on, words simply spilling out of his mouth without him really knowing what he was saying. Quincey could only watch helplessly as tears trickled down his face, his heart aching with each drop.

“No no no, Reid, no.” Quincey wrapped the smaller man in a hug. “I do enjoy spending time with you. You’re my best friend and I love-“ he stopped himself with a cough, “being with you. You are wonderful, and so fun be around. It amazes me to watch as reality bends to your will and distorts at your fingertips. I call you magic boy because to me what you do is magic. No different than what Selina and Hubert do, just without the wands and chanting is all. Please don’t stop eating lunch with me. If you do, I’ll only have Percival to keep me company, and he’s such a dreadful bore.”

Reid sniffed and wiped his eyes on Quincey’s broad chest as he tried to stop his tears. “Percival’s a lizard though.”

Quincey chuckled. “Yes. Yes he is. Thank you for punctuating my point magic boy.”

[legends-of-time]

Thorn Bush (Doctor Who Story)

Chapter 37: The Unicorn and the Wasp Part Two

Masterlist

The Doctor begins stumbling on his feet halfway to the kitchen as his limbs have become numb. Kathy keeps him steady and pushes him onward.

"Ginger beer! We need ginger beer!" Kathy shouts as soon as they enter the kitchen. The cooks and servers within the room stare at her and a stumbling Doctor in confusion.

"I need ginger beer!" The Doctor yells as he pushes away from Kathy's hold on him as he rushes over to a shelf. Knocking the other shelf items over, he gulped down the contents of the bottle. Even doses some of the ginger beer on himself for extra measure.

Kathy rushes over to another shelf and cabinet, searching through for the next item the Doctor needs. "Protein, protein, protein." She mutters rapidly as she searches. Agatha and Donna come into the kitchen just then, going to the Doctor's side as he slumps against a counter.

"I'm an expert in poisons, Doctor. There's no cure. It's fatal." Agatha tells the Time Lord.

The Doctor spits up some of the ginger beer. "Not for me! I can stimulate the inhibited enzymes into reversal." The Doctor explains rapidly, panting from the exertion his body is going through. His body convulses again, making him grit his teeth from the pain. "Protein! I need protein!"

"Here, protein!" Kathy calls as she spots a jar of walnuts on a counter one of the cooks at been preparing. Grabbing the walnuts, she sprints over to the Doctor, shoving it into his hands.

"Brilliant." The Doctor fills his mouth with them. As he chews, he begins making frantic movements with his hands, trying to show them what he needs next. Unable to speak at the moment from his full mouth.

"We can't understand you! How many words?" Donna exclaims. The Doctor holds up one finger as he keeps up his actions. "One-one word. Shake! Milk! Shake! Milk! Milk! No, not milk! Um, shake! Shake! Shake! Cocktail shaker!"

"Salt! He needs salt!" Kathy exclaims as she slaps herself on the forehead for forgetting what else he needs. Donna, Agatha, and Kathy go back to the shelves in search of something with salt.

Donna grabs the first item. "What about this?!" She asks the Doctor hurriedly as she rushes back over to him, showing him a brown bag.

"What is it?" The Doctor questions her.

"Salt!"

The Doctor shakes his head hastily. "That's too salty."

"Oh, that's too salty." Donna retorts in exasperation as she rolls her eyes.

Agatha comes up next, handing the Doctor a jar of anchovies. He eats the contents immediately, coughing in trying to chew as fast as he can. He then mimics something else that he needs.

"What is it? What else? It's a song? Mammy? I don't know. Camptown Races?" Donna rambles.

"Camptown Races?" The Doctor cries in disbelief.

"A shock. He needs a shock." Kathy interrupts. As much as this is a funny moment, she would rather stop the Doctor from being poisoned right now.

"Right then. Big shock coming up." Donna grabs the Doctor and kisses him long and hard. When she releases him, smoke comes from his mouth.

The Doctor coughs, clearing his throat. "Detox. Oh my. I must do that more often." He receives an alarmed look from Donna. "I mean, the detox."

"Doctor, you are impossible." Agatha gasps at the Doctor, who simply winks and runs out of the room. "Who are you?"

——

Night has fallen, and thunder and lightning crash overhead. The hosts and guests are on the soup course. There is a vase of Yellow Irises on the table.

"A terrible day for all of us. The Professor struck down, Miss Chandrakala taken cruelly from us, and yet we still take dinner." The Doctor remarks.

"We are British, Doctor. What else must we do?" Lady Eddison rebuts sharply.

"And then someone tried to poison me. Any one of you had the chance to put cyanide in my drink. But it rather gave me an idea."

"And what would that be?" The Reverend asks.

"Well, poison." The Doctor replies lightly with a smile. Everyone sort of freezes as all had been in either mid-sip of their soup or were about to take a gulp from their spoons. Donna even spits some of her soup out after drinking it. Only Kathy continues to sip on her soup, unaffected at all by his comment. The Time Lord gives them all a knowing smile as he lifts another spoonful of soup. "Drink up."

Kathy smacks her lips lightly, holding a sly smile as she says, "I do love pepper in my soup. Like to mix things up a bit. Thought you all would enjoy it as well, so I asked the chef to add just a bit." She takes another sip of her soup as she and the Doctor watch with guarded eyes to see how everyone's expressions change when they realise it is only pepper added to dinner.

"Ah, I thought it was jolly spicy." The Colonel comments, smiling easily as he takes another gulp of his meal.

"Oh, yes. Pepper does make great spice." Kathy agrees with a nod. "Though, pepper isn't only just good for extra flavour."

"The active ingredient of pepper is piperine," the Doctor explains in a chirp comment, "traditionally used as an insecticide." Everyone around the table stiffens again as thunder rumbles distantly outside. The Doctor, gazes around carefully, observing each and every one of their faces to judge who is the most affected by this. "So... anyone got the shivers?"

"Someone will get the shivers soon enough." Kathy says in a mumble, keeping her gaze steady on one person in particular, her eyes unmoving from his face. The Reverend across from her seems to swallow as his own face remains blank, staring right back at her with guarded eyes.

On cue, there is a crash of thunder and the windows blow open, extinguishing the candles. All the guests sort of make startled gasps and begin murmuring about what is going on. But when shushed by the Doctor, they then hear a loud buzzing going off in the room.

"No. It can't be." Lady Eddison breathes at the end of the table, sounding in complete disbelief at what they are hearing.

Thunder roars around as lightning lights up the room, illuminating their faces in a white light. It continues to flash wildly as more lightning hits around the place, causing panic for most of the guests as the buzzing grows louder and louder by the second. Footmen in the room rush to the door with the Colonel not far behind them.

Kathy hears the Doctor yelling, "Out, out, out, out, out, out!" But she doesn't listen, instead focusing on her plan. She quickly pulls Roger out of his chair and shoves him forward.

"What the devil are you doing?!" Roger exclaims in panic.

"You heard the man! Move!" Kathy responds, purposely shoving Roger towards the door. It is dark enough that making out anything other than vague shapes is basically impossible. But there is a faint light under the door. If Roger still gets stabbed, it won't be because she isn't guarding his back. That is for certain.

Kathy pushes Roger through the still open door and then swiftly shuts it behind him so that the killer (or should she say his lost elder half-brother?) isn't able to sneak out as well. She takes a deep breath. The feeling of relief is swiftly replaced by the sensation of someone punching her between the shoulder blades as hard as they can. And then, then the pain hits. It is sharp and cold, and yet it burns.

The killer couldn't get Roger, so it got her. Got her good.

Kathy instinctively tries to shout, but it comes out as a cough instead. Her mouth tastes metallic. Her vision blurs. She stiffens for a moment and stumbles d forward. Kathy slams against the closed door and feels herself slide down and onto the floor.

She looks down to see her hands beginning to glow orange. The energy flows over her, her insides and outer skin slowly sowing together the best they can, but they can't fully heal due to the sword sticking in her back. Thank you, Reverend...

"Mrs Raedan's been stabbed. She's in front of the door!" Someone screeches.

One of the double doors that Kathy is pressed against is pushed open as people rejoin the rest of the party. The opening of the door jostles her, and Kathy does her best not to scream. Her body has healed the damage that actually put in her hypothetical danger so there is no chance of her dying, but she still has a sword in her back. As long as someone doesn't shove the knife in deeper, she is going to be fine.

From her place on the door, she sees someone walking closer. She stares blankly at them for a moment, until she recognises the shoes. The Doctor crouches down in front of her.

"Hey..." Kathy mumbles. "I've mostly healed, but I've got a bit of a problem..."

The Doctor lets out a slight snort. "I can see." He very lightly rests a hand on her shoulder and ever so slightly pushes her to the side so he can get a better angle on the knife. Kathy hisses as the Doctor lightly grabs a hold of the knife.

"Don't take the knife out!" Kathy hears Agatha cry quickly. Kathy turns her head to see Donna and Agatha standing nearby. Both look alarmed but while Agatha is frantic and confused, Donna is calmer. She's probably seen this before. Something to look forward to... "I don't know how Mrs Raedan is still alive, but we need to get help. We need to call a hospital. She'll bleed out you can't—"

In one swift motion, the Doctor pulls the knife out of her back. Kathy hisses in pain. It hurt a lot, but nowhere near as much as it had going in. Kathy hears the sound of the knife clattering to the ground as the Doctor lets go of it. He lightly pushes her, so she is resting on her stomach.

"Thanks, Doctor." Kathy sighs.

"Doctor! What have you—" Agatha goes silent. Probably because of the sight of the faint glow and the last of the wound sowing itself back together, the energy leaving a tingling feeling. Kathy is finally fully healed.

When the Doctor helps her to her feet, Kathy realises that the Doctor had positioned himself in such a way that no one was really able to see her back unless they were as close as Agatha, Donna, or himself had been. Everyone had at least gotten a glimpse of the knife in her thought. Kathy can see it in their faces. Kathy looks around the room for something to use as a distraction.

"Are you human?" Agatha asks.

Kathy blinks. "A little bit?"

She is saved from any more awkward questions when Lady Eddison puts her hand to her neck and then freezes. She pats her neck again, and then her eyes go wide. "My jewellery. The Firestone, it's gone. Stolen."

——

"Stop scaring me like that." The Doctor scolds Kathy the instant they are in the drawing room, leaning against the fireplace. Agatha tags along inside, sitting on a sofa.

Kathy sits next to her, rolling her eyes. "If I didn't stay behind, Roger would have died. Had to save him from the Vespiform."

"What do you mean?" Agatha quizzes.

"Did you see the knife sticking in the table? That was the weapon the murderer was trying to kill Roger with." Kathy explains to them. The door opens to the sitting room as Donna walks in.

"Did you enquire after the necklace?" Agatha asks.

"Lady Eddison bought it back from India. It's worth thousands." Donna tells them, taking a seat on the opposite sofa.

The Doctor's brow is furrowed as he tries to make sense of it all. "This thing can sting, it can fly. It could wipe us all out in seconds. Why is it playing this game?"

"Every murder is essentially the same. They are committed because somebody wants something." Agatha concludes, staring off into the distance.

"What does a Vespiform want?"

"Doctor, forget about that. What you need to do is listen to the human exert." Kathy tells him. She gestures at Agatha, who blinks at her in confusion.

The Doctor's eyes widen. "Ah, I've been so caught up with giant wasps that I've forgotten. You're the expert."

"I'm not." Agatha scoffs. "I told you. I'm just a purveyor of nonsense."

Kathy frantically shakes her head, moving to sit on the table between the sofas to look directly at Agatha. "Don't say that, Agatha. Plenty of people write detective stories, but yours are the best."

"She's right." The Doctor adds. "You know about people. Their passions, their hope, and despair, and anger. All of those tiny, huge things that can turn the most ordinary person into a killer."

Kathy can see the wheels turning in the author's mind as it seems to spark into life in thinking over the day's events. All the murder. All the facts and clues.

"Just think, Agatha, anyone can solve this, it's you." The Doctor presses on.

——

Everyone is now gathered for the traditional denouement.

The Doctor addresses them once seated. "I've called you here on this endless night because we have a murderer in our midst." He slowly turns to face them, keeping his expression levelled. "And when it comes to detection, there's none finer. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Agatha Christie." Waving a hand for Agatha to stand at the fireplace. He walks over and sits by Kathy on the sofa across from Lady Eddison. Donna comes over and joins them on the seat as they watch Agatha face them all squarely.

"This is a crooked house, a house of secrets." Agatha starts. "To understand the solution, we must examine them all. Starting with you, Miss Redmond."

The woman sitting behind the rest in a corner seems startled by this as everyone shifts their gaze onto her. "But I'm innocent, surely." 'Redmond' counters in defence, trying to keep her voice light and calm.

"You've never met these people, and these people have never met you," Agatha speaks carefully, and thoughtfully as her eyes pierce at 'Redmond'. "I think the real Robina Redmond never left London-you're impersonating her."

One could tell that the woman had been caught by the strained smile on her face. But 'Redmond' keeps her cool, "How silly. What proof do you have?"

Agatha nods, explaining, "You said you'd been to the 'toilet'."

"Oh, I know this. If she was really posh, she'd say loo." Donna eagerly remarks.

Agatha picks up the locksmith's case. "Earlier today, Miss Noble and I found this on the lawn, right beneath your bathroom window. You must have heard that Miss Noble was searching the bedrooms, so you panicked. You ran upstairs and disposed of the evidence."

"I've never seen that thing before in my life." 'Redmond' responds tightly.

"What's inside it?" Lady Eddison questions.

"The tools of your trade, Miss Redmond. Or should I say, the Unicorn?" Everyone gasps upon this reveal as Agatha smirks at the fuming 'Redmond'. "You came to this house with one sole intention. To steal the Firestone."

"Oh, all right, then." The Unicorn spits out as she glares at Agatha and her once proper voice changes in accent. "It's a fair cop. Yes, I'm the bleedin' Unicorn. Ever so nice to meet you, I don't think." She stands up from her seat, going over to stand closer to the group, closest to the Colonel. She jerks the large Firestone out of the front of her dress, showing it to everyone. "I took my chance in the dark and nabbed it. Well, go on, then, you nobs. Arrest me. Sling me in jail." She tosses the jewel in the air, allowing the Doctor (who now stands by Agatha, getting up when the Unicorn did) to catch it.

"So, is she the murderer?" Donna asks curiously.

The Doctor sits back down next to Kathy as he begins to examine the Firestone very closely.

"Don't be so thick." The Unicorn retorts crossly at Donna. "I might be a thief, but, well, I ain't no killer."

"Quite. There are darker motives at work." Agatha agrees as she places down the Unicorn's black case. The author then directs her gaze onto the Colonel. "And in examining this household, we come to you... Colonel."

The man sits in his wheelchair, appearing very nervous now. Then, his expression turns sour. "Damn it, woman." He grumbles, standing up from his chair, revealing to everyone that he could always stand. "You with your perspicacity. You've rumbled me."

"Father?!" Roger exclaims in shock.

"Hugh, you can walk." Lady Eddison gasps. "But why?"

"My darling, how else could I be certain of keeping you by my side?" The Colonel replies.

"I don't understand."

"You're still a beautiful woman, Clemency. Sooner or later some chap will turn your head. I couldn't bear that. Staying in the chair was the only way I could be certain of keeping you." He turns to Agatha. "Confound it, Mrs. Christie. How did you discover the truth?"

"Um," Agatha replies with a grimace, "actually, I had no idea. I was just going to say you're completely innocent."

Kathy and Donna both let out conspiring sniggers.

"Oh. Oh." The Colonel's face goes red, embarrassed to have jumped the gun.

"Sorry."

"Well. Well, shall I sit down then?"

"I think you better had."

The Colonel slowly sits back down on his chair. Lady Eddison reaches over to grasp his hand softly and Roger leans over to give him a pat on the shoulder.

"So, he's not the murderer." Donna states.

"No, but I have to say," Kathy says, "faking a disability because you're afraid that your wife is going to leave you is a really really scummy thing to do."

"Yes, but it isn't murder." Agatha continues. "So, to find the truth, let's return," she holds out her hand to the Doctor, who then hands her over the Firestone, "to this." She lets them all see it. The golden chain holding the deep purple jewel in the centre of the golden heart-shaped charm. "Far more than the Unicorn's object of desire. The Firestone has quite a history. Lady Eddison." Agatha turns her gaze upon the woman sitting on the sofa next to her, seeing the wary demeanour of the lady.

"I've done nothing." Lady Eddison says in defence.

"You brought it back from India, did you not?" Agatha inquires. "Before you met the Colonel. You came home with Malaria. And confined yourself to this house for six months, in a room that has been kept locked ever since. Which I rather think means—"

"Stop. Please." Lady Eddison begins to sob, holding her hands to her mouth.

Agatha stares at the woman in sympathy. "I'm so sorry. But you had fallen pregnant in India." The Colonel stares wide-eyed at Lady Eddison as the woman's shoulders shake in quiet sobs. "Unmarried and ashamed. You hurried back to England with your confidante, a young maid, later to become housekeeper-Miss Chandrakala."

"Mother," Roger speaks up in question, "is this true?"

"My poor baby." Lady Eddison whimpers as she tries to hold back her sobs the best she can. "I had to give him away. The shame of it."

"But you never said a word." The Colonel says, shaking his head in pure disbelief.

"I had no choice." Lady Eddison replies solemnly. Then, her voice changes to that of a drone as though she has had to repeat these words many times. "Imagine the scandal. The family name. I'm British. I carry on."

"And it was no ordinary pregnancy." The Doctor says from where he sits with Kathy and Donna. Now, instead of Agatha, everyone turns to look at him.

"How can you know that?" Lady Eddison replies, her voice filled with a mix of disbelief and fear.

"Excuse me, Agatha," The Doctor says quickly glancing at the woman before continuing, "this is our territory. But when you heard that buzzing sound in the dining room, you said, it can't be. Why did you say that?"

"You'd never believe it." Lady Eddison replies in a harsh whisper.

"Lady Eddison," Kathy says, standing, "somebody in this room literally stabbed me in the back. The Doctor took the knife out of my back, but I'm still breathing, and I know that everyone here saw it. Also, the person who stabbed me was a giant wasp. I'm pretty sure that everyone is just a little bit more willing to believe the seemingly impossible than when they woke up this morning."

"It was forty years ago." Lady Eddison begins. Her eyes stare off into the distance as if seeing the memory again. "In the heat of Delhi, late one night. I was alone, and that's when I saw it. A dazzling light in the sky. The next day, he came to the house. Christopher, the most handsome man I'd ever seen. Our love blazed like a wildfire. I held nothing back. And in return, he showed me the incredible truth about himself. He'd made himself human, to learn about us. This was his true shape. I loved him so much, it didn't matter. But he was stolen from me. 1885, the year of the great monsoon," she inhales deeply, "the river Jumna rose up and broke its banks. He was Taken at the Flood. But Christopher left me a parting gift. A jewel like no other. I wore it always. Part of me never forgot. I kept it close, always."

"Just like a man." The Unicorn comments. "Flashes his family jewels and you end up with a bun in the oven."

"A poor little child." Agatha continues her denouement. "Forty years ago, Miss Chandrakala took that newborn babe to an orphanage. But Professor Peach worked it out. He found the birth certificate!"

Donna's eyes light up. "Oh, that's maiden. Maiden name!"

"Precisely."

"So, she killed him?"

"I did not!" Lady Eddison insists.

"Miss Chandrakala feared that the Professor had unearthed your secret." Agatha continues. "She was coming to warn you."

"So, she tried to kill her!"

"No, cause Lady Eddison is completely innocent." Kathy says.

"Correct Mrs Raedan." Agatha nods. "Lady Eddison is innocent. Because at this point, Doctor—"

The Doctor leaps up, standing in front of the fireplace. "Thank you. At this point, when we consider the lies and the secrets, and the key to these events, then we have to consider it was you," he turns and points, "Donna Noble."

Donna gawps. "What? Who did I kill?"

"No, but you said it all along. The vital clue. This whole thing is being acted out like a murder mystery, which means it was you," he turns and points again, "Agatha Christie."

"I beg your pardon, sir?" Agatha splutters, flabbergasted.

"So, she killed them?" Donna eagerly questions.

"No. But she wrote. She wrote those brilliant, clever books. And who's her greatest admirer? The Moving Finger points at you," he points again, "Lady Eddison."

Lady Eddison sobs. Roger rubs her back comfortingly, frowning at the Doctor. "Don't. Leave me alone." The former gasps through her tears.

"So, she did kill them."

Kathy sighs. "No. What he means is, what were you doing last Thursday Lady Eddison?"

"I was–I was in the library," she paused for a moment, "I was reading my favourite Agatha Christie, thinking about her plots, and how clever she must be. How is that relevant?"

"That's not the only thing that happened last Thursday. Is it?" Kathy turns to face the Reverend. "Along with Lady Eddison curling up in the library with a good book, what else happened that day?"

"I'm sorry?" The man replies, speaking for the first time since this whole denouement had started.

"You said on the lawn, this afternoon." The Doctor reminds him. "Last Thursday night, those boys broke into your church."

"That's correct." The Reverend responds. "They did. I discovered the two of them. Thieves in the night. I was most perturbed. But I apprehended them."

"Really?" The Doctor retorts. "Really? A man of God against two strong lads? A man in his forties? Or should I say forty years old, exactly?"

"Oh, my god." Lady Eddison gasps in a tremor of astonishment.

"This is poppycock." The Reverend laughs in spite, looking unnerved by the truth of his identity.

"What's so poppycock about it?" Kathy speaks. "You're a Vespiform who's part human, born from Lady Eddison and raised by Fathers from the church. A Vespiform who finally broke through his genetic lock for the first time and is now angry with his mother for abandoning him."

"Acting out upon the stories of Agatha Christie that transferred from the Vespiform telepathic recorder." The Doctor explains along with Kathy, standing next to her as he indicates at the Firestone being what he is talking about. "It beamed your full identity, your brain, your very essence, right to you when you activated. Along with absorbing the stories Lady Eddison loved to read. It all became a part of you. The mechanics of those novels formed a template in your brain. You killed in this pattern because that's what you think the world is. Turns out we are in the middle of a murder mystery. One of yours, Dame Agatha."

Upon Agatha's clearly bewildered expression, Kathy pokes the Doctor in the side lightly. "Too soon." She whispers to the Time Lord.

"So, he killed them. Yes? Definitely?" Donna asks.

"Yes." The Doctor affirms.

The Reverend shifts in his chair, narrowing his eyes at them all. "Well, this has certainly been a most entertaining evening. Really, you can't believe any of this surely, Lady Edizzon."

"Lady who?"

"Lady Edizzzzon." Everyone begins staring at him, eyes piercing at him in observation as they hear the buzzing in his voice.

"Little bit of buzzing there, Vicar." The Doctor provokes.

"Don't make me angry." The Reverend spits.

"Why? What happens then?"

The Reverend stands, glaring at them all. "Damn it, you humanzz, worshipping your tribal sky godzz. I am so much more." The more he tries to speak, the more his anger grows, and the more the buzzing in his voice increases as he rages at them. "That night, the universe exploded in my mind. I wanted to take what wazz mine. And you, Agatha Christie, with your railway station bookstall romancezz, what'z to stop me killing you?"

"Oh, my dear God. My child." Lady Eddison sobs.

"What'zz to stop me killing you all?" He shakes as a cloud of purple smoke surrounds him as he transforms into his Vespiform body. The massive wasp, with a yellow and black hard body, large wings that beat rapidly in the air with their deafening buzz, and an enormous stinger at the end, pointed and ready to kill them all.

Everyone begins panicking as the Vespiform crawls on the empty sofa across from the others, snapping its sharp mouth at them.

"Forgive me." Lady Eddison cries as she tries reaching for her long-lost son, to comfort him and beg him for forgiveness. But the Colonel and Roger hold her back for her own safety.

"No, no, Mother, come back." Roger says.

"Keep away. Keep away, my darling." The Colonel adds. The two of them pull the screaming woman into the corner and away from the Vespiform man where the Unicorn is standing, huddled and rightly terrified.

"No." Agatha loudly declares. She holds up the firestone in her hand. "No more murder. If my imagination made you kill, then my imagination will find a way to stop you, foul creature."

And then she opens the door and runs. The Vespiform, antagonised, chases after her. Kathy, Donna and the Doctor bolt after her.

They reach outside, ahead of the Vespiform, to find Agatha driving a car and she hoots the horn. The Vespiform bursts out behind them.

"Over here! Come and get me, Reverend." Agatha yells.

"Agatha, please, it's not your fault! You don't need to do this!" Kathy cries.

"You're wrong Mrs Raedan. You don't know everything. I started this so then I must stop it." Agatha drives off. The Vespiform hesitates and then follows her.

"Come on!" The Doctor cries. He, Kathy and Donna get into another car and give chase.

——

Finally, Agatha suddenly makes a sharp turn, and the Doctor follows after her. She stops her car and gets out, holding the Firestone in her fist. It glows the same violet as the Reverend had when he transformed.

"Here I am!" She shouts. Her voice carries across the lakeside. "The honey in the trap. Come to me, Vespiform."

"She's controlling it!" Donna observes, climbing out of the car.

"Its mind is based on her thought processes. They're linked." The Doctor explains.

Kathy hops out the side of the car, joining Donna and the Doctor.

"Quite so, Doctor!" Agatha agrees. "If I die, then this creature might die with me."

The Vesprifom buzzes forward, and the Doctor steps forward as well. "Don't hurt her! You're not meant to be like this. You've got the wrong template in your mind."

"It's not listening to you." Donna snatches the necklace from Agatha and hurls it into the lake as hard as she can. They duck as the Vesprifom flies over their heads, and it crashes into the lake. The water is bubbling purple.

"How do you kill a wasp?" Donna asks rhetorically. "Drown it, just like his father."

"Donna," the Doctor says in disbelief, "that thing couldn't help itself."

"Lady Eddison beamed stories of cunning people solving crimes and bringing murderers to justice. And yet he chose to be one of the villains instead of the heroes." Kathy argues. She hates that it came to this, but she honestly can't think of another way this part could've been changed.

"It made its choice," Donna agrees, "and I made mine."

Agatha silently stares out into the lake in disbelief. "Death comes at the end, and justice is served."

"Murder at the vicar's rage." The Doctor murmurs.

Kathy and Donna give him a look. "Not your best." The former says. He shrugs.

"Just one mystery left, Doctor and Mrs Raedan." Agatha turns to them. "Who exactly are you both?"

Before the Doctor or Kathy can open their mouths and give any kind of answer, Agatha suddenly doubles over in pain and starts to collapse. Kathy and the Doctor quickly catch the woman before she hits the ground and slowly lowers her onto the grass. Agatha's face screws up in pain and she gasps as if she's been stabbed in the gut.

"She'll be fine. She should be." Kathy reassures. Please don't let her be proven wrong.

And just like that, Agatha glows purple for a few moments before it fades, and she relaxes as she falls unconscious.

"He let her go." The Doctor realises. "Right at the end, the Vespiform chose to save someone's life."

"Is she all right, though?" Donna asks.

"Of course. The amnesia." The Doctor realises. "Wiped her mind of everything that happened. The Vespiform, the murders."

"And us. She'll forget about us."

"Yeah, but we've solved another riddle. The mystery of Agatha Christie." The Doctor says. "And tomorrow morning, her car gets found by the side of a lake. A few days later, she turns up in hotel at Harrogate with no idea of what just happened."

——

Agatha stands at the bottom of the steps of the Harrogate Hotel. She looks back at them, dazed and confused before walking on. Kathy, the Doctor and Donna continue to watch on from next to the TARDIS.

"No one'll ever know."

"Lady Eddison, the Colonel, and all the staff. What about them?" Donna questions.

"Shameful story. They'd never talk of it. Too British." The Doctor replies.

"The Unicorn does a bunk back to London town." Kathy continues. "She can never even say she was there."

"What happens to Agatha?" Donna asks.

"Oh, great life." The Doctor reassures. "Met another man, married again. Saw the world. Wrote and wrote and wrote."

"She never thought her books were any good, though." Donna says sadly. "And she must have spent all those years wondering."

——

"The thing is, I don't think she ever quite forgot." The Doctor says once they're back in the TARDIS. "Great mind like that, some of the details kept bleeding through. All the stuff her imagination could use. Like, Miss Marple."

Donna does a mock irritated sigh. "I should have made her sign a contract."

"And, where is it, where is it, hold on. Here we go." He pulls up a deck plate next to the console and gets out an old wooden chest. "C. That is C for Cybermen, C for Carrionites," Kathy grimaces at the green ball, "and Christie, Agatha. Look at that." A 1957 paperback edition of Death in the Clouds with a wasp on the cover.

"She did remember." Donna beams.

"Somewhere in the back of her mind, it all lingered." Kathy remarks, nudging the companion's shoulder with her own.

"And that's not all. Look at the copyright page." The Doctor says, opening to said page.

"Facsimile edition, published in the year five billion!" Donna cries in shock.

"People never stop reading them. She is the best-selling novelist of all time."

"But she never knew."

"That's the problem. Most people only get appreciated once they're dead." Kathy says. Vincent Van Gough and Mary Seacole are some of them.

"She's right and no one knows how they're going to be remembered." The Doctor says. "All we can do is hope for the best. Maybe that's what kept her writing. Same thing keeps me travelling. Onwards?"

"Erm," Kathy interrupts, "drop me off first before you get any ideas."

The Doctor grins. "Right, a short hop. Then it's till the next time, Kathy."

"Till the next time, Doctor."

——

A/N: Please leave comments on how you're enjoying this story and what you think.

[troidatoi]

Day 7 - 9/21/2023

I think I've literally cried every day this month. I always get so emotional when September comes and I don't know if it's cause of the transition to Fall and I already know my seasonal depression is going to skyrocket. My health anxiety is through the roof that I can't stop thinking about it and crying about it. Every little thing just triggers me and I start crying and and it's just tears on tears on tears. I just want to feel better so bad. I went to the gastro doctor again to test for SIBO and I don't have it. It's a relief that I don't but I still don't know what's going on with my body and the uncertainty makes me to k*ll myself. Sometimes I think I have the C word. (I know I don't.) It also feels like there's a lot of pressure in my head like there's something wrong with my brain. I just want to stop thinking like this but I can't. I so badly want something good to happen to me and I know it will. I want to be able to eat without fear, I want to not bloat anymore and not feel inflamed. I want to fit into my clothes again. I want to be able to enjoy life. (I'm trying my best.) Food still isn't digesting properly and I know it will heal sometime soon. I just feel like I'm doing everything I can but nothing is working. This is all started when I did my tummy tuck (which I don't regret at all) but if I knew my digesting system was going to be like this after then I don't know if I made the right move. I just wanted to look and feel fit and skinny for the first time in my life and I felt like I ruined it. :( I know I'll go back to my ideal weight soon and I'm doing the best I can but I am spending so much money on doctors and supplements and medication. I just wish I could get tested for everything and not have to worry about the money. My gastro doctor doesn't want me to do more testing because he doesn't want to expose me to radiation and I just laughed but I really want him to do it! Test me! I need to figure this out! I wish I took care of my body better. I keep apologizing to my body but also telling her that I love her and thank her for how strong she is. I don't want my body to keep going through this and I know I won't feel this way forever but I just want to heal so bad and it just feels never ending. This whole month has been ass so far. LOL. Like I'm trying to be positive but sometimes I just want to fucking scream and yell and throw something and punch something because of everything that's happened so far this month. Like you know where everything is going wrong and you feel like you can't watch a break and you just want to breathe but life decided to throw hands?! Yeah, this was all this fucking month.

The job search has also been making me extremely depressed like these companies are pissing me the fawk off with how we need to apply for the job and taking forever to get back to us. I had an interview with a certain company in June. Still haven't heard anything back. I even emailed the recruiter last month and he said they haven't heard anything yet. I thought the interview went well but it shouldn't take this long to get back to someone. I rather have them tell me I didn't get it then just get ghosted like this. (I am hoping I'm not getting ghosted. LOL) Don't even talk to me about salary because these companies want you to do the work of 2-3 people for a low ass salary like be fucking for real. I applied to two jobs yesterday and it was just so tedious although I'm hoping to get a call back from one of them just because I think it'd be cool to work there. :) Also, I applied to MGM and they got back to me the next day and set up an interview and everything. The manager texts me and she said servers are down and I was like okay, cool shit happens. I just thought the power shut off but nope. I found out later that week that they got hacked so everything got leaked and I was like HAHAHAHAHA, maybe the Universe doesn't want me to work there? I don't know man, I don't know whether to laugh or cry when it comes shit like this. Like I'm just asking to make money so I can pay back my parents and pay off my debt. I don't even want to be rich. Just financially stable enough to afford my wants and needs and even move out!! This whole month has just been so terrible. I want to believe that something good will happen you know? I'm claiming it though even if I need to be delusional about it.

I for some reason think about death a lot like it consumes me to the point where I just start crying out of nowhere. I remember even when I was a kid I asked my mom why do we die and she couldn't give me a straight answer. I don't know why I was little and asking questions about death. I remember crying in class when I was in 4th grade thinking about death for some reason. Like the thought just washed over me when I thought about it. I always thought (I still do) that death is so fucking tragic and living an old age is a privilege. Aging is a beautiful thing. (I don't know why the fuck society makes it seem so bad.) I like the idea of celebrating your life (which is probably why I love birthdays so much). Because it means that you're still here and shouldn't we celebrate the fact that you're still here? You made it this far. I thought about my death today like fucking a lot which is why I was crying a lot. Like would I be okay dying right now? I even thought what I would write to my family and friends if I ended up dying like right now. LMAO. Why am I like this? I would say I'd live a good life so far, a lot of ups and downs of course. A lot of regrets but not a lot of regrets. I've always done things that made me happy, my social life is amazing, and I have family and friends who love me.

My favorite artist right now La Roux knows who I am!!! The only thing that is keeping me going right now is that I need to meet her and see her in concert. LOL. It's funny cause she sent me encouraging messages and I didn't even think she would reply back to me. She told me to stay strong and I was like yeah okay!!! Let's do it not only for me but for her too. lmaooo. I don't know why her message affected me so much when my family and friends told me the same fucking thing but I was still fucking sad and mad about everything. I really do love her and her music so much. The way I gush over her is crazy. LOL. I don't want to sound obsessed but she's just so effortlessly cool. I really want to be her when I grow up. She's such a nice person and I know I shouldn't idolize celebrities blah blah blah but I have loved every song and every project she's done that I bought both her albums and vinyls and hung them on my wall which I took a picture of and showed her and she said she loved it like yeah I hope she knows how much I love her. I'm telling myself I can't die without meeting her and seeing her live which is one of the things that's keeping me going. She gives it her all every performance. I know I'm going to meet her. LOL. If I met Kobe, then I'm definitely going to meet her one way or another. I'm manifesting that shit right now and I'm going to make it happen. I just love her so much like the first time she messaged me back, I cried. lmfaooo. I cry so much, someone should do a study on me. A conversation and hug from her would heal me in so many ways and we were even born in the same month!! And she speaks so intelligently and articulates so well. I think she's so fucking smart. She says it like it is and she's not scared to disagree with people and things. LOL. I remember everyone telling me that I was going to meet Kobe in high school and I kept having dreams where I met Kobe and tried to get a picture with him but my phone wouldn't work and I would always think like fuck, if I met him and this shit happened, I would cry. Lo and behold, a few years later I met him at his book signing at The Grove and it was worth it. The worker who took my picture did an amazing job taking my pictures with him and you can see how star struck I was to meet him. He was so nice and asked me if I wanted a hug and I was like yes!! I miss him everyday and I hope him and Gigi are well. And I hope when I meet La Roux, she doesn't think I'm weird or annoying as I know she has anxiety. Like I said I'd love a hug, a convo and picture (mirror selfie would be so amazing, lmao) with her. <3 It's going to happen! I just need to take care of myself first (which I'm fucking doing even if I have to fucking scream and bitch and moan about it until I get to a place where I feel better and my health is in a better place!)

Okay there was like a lot of negativity in this post because sometimes a bitch needs to fucking vent and let some shit off her chest (besides talking about my love for Kobe and La Roux) but I know they would want me to keep going despite of it all. The two celebrities who really did change my life for the better and I hope they know how much of a positive impact they've had on me. I just have to believe that my body is going to heal while also putting in the work to help it heal. I also have to believe that someone is going to hire me at the end of the month and that I'm going to pay off my debt. I need to give myself more credit for surviving all of this. I know something great is coming my way and money is going to flow towards me. I'm going to have good health and eat what I want again without pain. I am also going to Life is Beautiful tomorrow which should be nice!! I'm going with John and it's probably something I need. Probably have a heart to heart with John and cry over everything with him. I love concerts so much. I love music so much! I think it'd be nice to just get out of the house and not stare at my screen and wallow in my thoughts. lmfao. I'm just trying to appreciate and be happy with where I am now and hopefully good things follow me for it. I need to have faith even if it feels hopeless right now. Stay strong, Jane. You didn't come this far to come this far. You are protected, guided, and loved. Everything always works out for you! Believe it! Manifest it! Claim it! Please remember this on the days where you feel like everything is going wrong. I love you so much.

[keefiswhoiam]

September 01 - 2023 Friday

8:49 AM Thoughts

I guess I feel kinda worthless this morning. Rather my head is full of thoughts that keep telling me whats wrong with me and how everything is going downhill. They are deep beliefs like "I can't keep up this act" "It'll all come crumbling down" "Whats the point of trying anything if it'll only lead to ruin"

2:09 PM Thoughts

I hate where I am. I do nothing. I live in the same room every day. I don't really mean anything to anyone. I have no physical connection to anyone. I can't live up to any friend that does. That makes me disposable. I feel horrible and selfish that I think I deserve love from anyone. I feel wrong expecting that from anyone. No matter how much I give back, it never makes me enough. I want to be able to love like others do. I don't know if I am capable. I want to talk to my friend, I want to be moody with them and open up. But that also feels selfish, especially with what they are going through recently. I want to be able to have other friends I can be vulnerable with but I don't like anyone else like that. I don't know what to do with myself today or this weekend. All I can think about is how bad everything could be. I'm still awaiting the seemingly inevitable destruction of everything I enjoy in my life. I can't move up, only down. I don't even know how I got to where I am, I feel like I wrongfully own everything. I don't want to isolate but I don't want to talk to anyone either. I feel like I can't connect with anyone. But how do I know I'm not just self destructing. I know I need to make a conscious effort to put myself in favorable positions.

3:14 PM

I'm sitting here wallowing instead of doing something. I vaguely know what I want to do but my thoughts stop me. I'm literally choosing to give into my sadness rather than putting in the energy to direct my focus onto something that will fulfill me. I guess I still haven't really learned how destructive this really is. One day I should wake up and realize what I'm doing to myself.

11:54 PM

I don't WANT to do a journal entry but is that low self worth talking or do I really not want to? Also I DO want to in the sense that I want to have said I did it and documented my life a little but I don't want to put in the work. I will anyways.

Breakfast was leftover broccoli pizza. I wasn't looking forward to today since it's the 1st of the month and that means new commissions and finances. Stream went as normal as always. The guy that commissioned me was iffy on what he wanted at the end and I had to contain my frustration because of how petty his complaints were. Also he wanted to add a background which isn't a huge deal except I have to match the lighting of the background to his character while usually I do it the other way around. Really its just been bad communication on his part which is something I have to put up with alot.

Before lunch I tackled my finances and updated my profiles everywhere but honestly a good chunk of the midday was spent procrastinating. I took a shower and had spaghetti for lunch. After lunch I felt like giving into my sadness and not doing anything but I was able to get myself to work on some art and another avatar so I guess I'm proud of that. It was also a case of wanting to do something for the sake of having got it done and it is fulfilling if I can actually do it. I also made sure not to isolate myself by hanging out in a friend's server even if I was mostly just listening to them yell at their games. Eventually I left them and joined a different server where I finished up work and played some Battlebit with them. It was kinda fun but all day I had been in my head and wasn't entirely present. All day I just wanted to chat with my bestie about anything because I felt like I needed that emotional release and I did end up getting that after some fun VR time. The only meaning I felt today was spent with her because she always manages to be a good thing even on bad days. Now I'm hopeful for tomorrow that I can figure out some things to do and focus on them. Im aware of the kinds of ways I was feeling today and how I did/didn't handle it properly.

[transsexualhamlet]

someone just liked all my old ons posts, currently remembering how incredibly funny and sexy i am and how all my opinions are correct