#insert manage expectations lecture

[agl03]

I have heard some rumors that Agents of Shield Fans would be happy with Vision Quest. What do you think that means, like a crossover or guest stars?

Hi Anon!

I've said it once and I'll say it again, they just need to leave our HEA branch ALONE! Fitzsimmons are in Perthshire, Dousy is in Space, Mackelena is a Shiled Power Couple, May is leading the academy, Coulson is seeing the world, and Deke is a timeline over being the Rockstart Director of Shield whom I am 100% convinced eventually found his way home thanks to Nana and Bobo. Everyone is ALIVE and HAPPY!

We've also established that thanks to said time loops and time travel branches that AOS was not in the current MCU universe that we have been seeing play out. The split happened in Season 5 when they broke the loop. Graviton specifically mentioned needing all that power to go stop Thanos, placing Infinity War going down the same time as the Season 5 Finale. Thanks to the loops, AOS missed the snap and are a few years behind the MCU as well. Season 6 picked up 18 months later while Endgame picked up 5 years later. IE AOS ended even before Endgame began. Meaning Vision Quest will take place after AOS's end as well.

I was just in panels a few weeks ago with Jeff, Chloe, and Ming and none gave any indication they were currently reprising their roles. Jeff is coming off Season 2 of One Piece, Chloe was very clear she was not involved in secret Warriors or anything Daisy related and noted she had not been allowed too work due to her contract with her Netfix show that just came out, and Ming did say she was working on something she can't talk about but it didn't give me Marvel vibes. Clark has been on Broadway.

I'm going long so under the thing.

I did track down the article where it was mentioned and here is the direct quote: Chance32252 (interviewer for the cosmic circus): What can you tell us about the direction of The Vision Show that we haven't already heard?

Alex Perez (a 'Marvel Insider'): That Agents of Shield fans will celebrate a (albeit small) win.

The Cosmic Circus has a series of intervews with Alex about upcoming projects via their Patreon. For those who have been with me since the old days you know that I take insider teases with a Boulder of salt. As most insiders we used to hear from would be wrong or have a different take on a bit of news or gossip. So its not one of the more mainstream sources I am used to trusting.

I'm going to stick with:

Some sort a small mention of the story or a character(s). After all Coulson was the "old friend" in Ultron who got the Hellicarrier out of mothballs for Fury to ride into the rescue in.

A deeper cut with a piece of tech. Previously we know that the Mousehole Fury used to escape was designed by FItz. IE we see another familiar bit of tech that could possibly tie into the LMD's as that is a major piece I could see being in the mix with Vision and something Sword may have accessed when building White Vision.

Something that nods to the different timeliness AOS spun off, Vision goes on his own rocking time travel adventure complete with almost a Musical Episode.

I think my personal favorite but not sure if it would be considered small, would be tied to the Darkhold. Robbie had the dang thing and we don't know how it went from under Ghost Rider's Bed to Wanda. The Darkhold played a major part in helping Wanda create her dream world/family. It would have gone a long way in giving Vision in there life as it did with AIDA coming from the Framework to the real-world. White Vision is a combo of Swords Vision and Wanda's Darkhold Vision.

If IF we saw any AOS character pop up my money, Ghost Rider (hey they can dream big so can I, I have been right on crazier). He is the link between Shield and Wandavision/Vision Quest via the Darkhold.

Okay that was fun! Thanks so much for the ask! Been while since I got to do a good old deep dive. AS ALWAYS MANAGE EXPECTATIONS!!!!! Daisy is not going to be quaking into the middle of a battle mid season.

[hello-vampire-kitty]

Servamp chapter 148 spoilers

"It feels like..I'm breaking...His soul is screaming...Crying out your name."

I screamed as well when I saw that Tsurugi is in there!

That's what I hoped for. I couldn't accept that he was truly dead in spite of what happed to his body!

He heard Touma's name being called out and that made him wake up!

If Mikuni let him live because he thought that he'll not pose a threat if Germaine-the creator of Servamps, who is supposed to be stronger than anyone, takes over his body, well...he underestimated my boy.

Touma: "Let's go home, Tsurugi." Tsurugi: "Tai-chan..!"

Upon hearing his name being called out by Touma, Tsurugi managed to break free from Germaine's control. Like I mentioned previously, Tsurugi must have been underestimated.

Recall what he said in chapter 67.

My boy 😭 It made me happy seeing that he managed to expel Germaine and I that he will be alright, but Tanaka-sensei was like, "Yeah about that..."

AAAHH! I'm devastated! There's only one more chapter left...Could there still be hope for him to come back?

Note that I haven't properly read the lines, as in I haven't looked up all the words, but from what I understand, Touma explained to Mahiru that Iori created a save state of the world, a precaution against damage in a decisive battle and Mahiru asks if he means that day when Tsubaki showed up at the hospital (ch 84).

According to this chapter, when Iori 'died', which by the way, his act was referred to as 'suicide by magic' he actually put himself in suspended animation and inserted himself as a 'bookmark' in the timeline and he acted as a guidepost to correct the timeline.

Yeah, so it's impressive. I think most of us believed, especially given the previous chapter that Mahiru and Kuro will be the one to defeat Mikuni. I also thought there will be a confrontation with Germaine, like I was expecting that he will be the final boss.

Alright, so, maybe after I read the chapter probably it will be clear, but Mahiru asks if it's possible to go back to that moment in time, (the period from when Tsubaki showed up at the hospital), but Touma says there's not enough to pay the price to go that far in time, however Touma says that he wouldn't mind paying a price 'to pull a life from the bookmark'.

So...he wants to bring Tsurugi back by exchanging his life, however, Mahiru mentions that he died once before and he's suggesting to exchange his life.

Note how he trails off at the end. I'm expecting that he will be cut off by someone, most likely Kuro who will give him a lecture.

Don't let your mother's sacrifice be in vain, Mahiru! :(

Kuro and your friends won't let you sacrifice yourself so easily

The last thing I want to talk about is the possibility that maybe there won't be sacrifices, because there will be drama CD which has a track titled "Re：One morning, when I woke up". (title of chapter 80).

Because it has 'Re' in the title, which stands for 'restart', 'redo', 'repeat' etc, it could mean that the scenario might be about returning to that period in chapter 80.

That chapter opened with Tsurugi waking up at the hospital after the incident at C3.

Although it's the same title as the chapter, maybe it doesn't mean going back to that time, but rather it's tied to the imagery. What I'm trying to say is that, the scenario of the drama might begin with Tsurugi waking up, like in chapter 80.

We only have once chapter left...Tanaka please, my baby has to meet his grandpuppy Gear and no one should sacrifice themselves!

[marvelling-at-marvel-blog]

Richmond weird/funny interview idea.

I was going to write this as a fic but then realised I would have to try to figure out how y'all do awards shows and what they are called and gave right up.

So in AFL (Australian football), we have this awards night for the best player in the league that year and most of the other big awards (called the brownlow). It basically means all the biggest players in the league come together to this award ceremony. And on the red carpet, they do interviews and stuff for radio and tv. Pretty normal stuff. Most the time, it's what are you wearing, how do you think your year has been, who do you think will win blah blah. But there is this one segment a radio station came up with entitled 'sh*t brownlow questions', and the interviewer just asks completely random and stupid questions for fun. And it's hilarious because these players are just so out of depth with the random questions.

Now I cant get a Richmond version out of my head.

Like they go to an awards show, all dressed to the nines and there is some interviewer there who decides to ask random questions for entertainemnt on his channel, when all the guys are expecting the usual questions and it starts of pretty well and funny

Interviewer: Hey Dani, just a quick question. Would you rather fight 1 Isaac McAdoo sized duck or 100 duck sized Isaac McAdoo's?

Dani in his chipper demeanour: oh I wouldn't want to fight any version of Issac at all he is such a great guy, and I love him....

Dani suddenly going serious and grabbing the mic and looking straight down the camera: But if I had to chose, I would go 1 duck sized Isaac because 100 tiny Isaac's would be too many Isaac's, they would completly overwhelm you and tear you apart!

Interviewer: Hey Colin, just wondering do you do your tax returns as soon as you can or wait until just before the cut off date?

Colin going pale: oh no. When are the tax returns due? I don't know when the last time I did my taxes was......

Interviewer asking like this is going to be a football question: Hey Sam, we are getting to the serious end of the season now so I was was just wondering, who do you think will win..... this seasons Lust Conquers All?

Sam with his serious face at the beggining of the question laughing by the end: Oh Janet for sure but I think I would be a amiss if I didn't mention Jamie was robbed last season.

Interviewer: Hey Roy, just wondering.....

Roy barley glancing at him as he walks past: Nope not doing it, f**k off.

Interviewer: Hey Richard, so the big one is coming up, Wembley Stadium, 90 000 people, just wondering........ did you manage to get Taylor Swift tickets?

Richard without blinking: Yes, yes I did.

Any question asked of Ted, Ted is just ecstatic, takes it 100% seriously, and is generally happy to answer.

The interviewer joking pulls out a cross word from the paper and asks for some help from Beard. Two minutes later, he has a completed crossword, and he just looks at it in astonishment.

Then the interview goes off the rails a little.

The Interviewer asks Jamie a random queation about history but instead of stumping him Jamie lights up and peoceeds to give an in-depth answer with alarming detail and the interview now knows more than he ever needed to on the subject. (This makes Roy even more unhappy because Jamie is now going to 100% talk his ear off about this for the rest of the night, just info dumping on him. Let be real he secretly loves it)

Interviewer: Hey Moe, just wondering if you had an opinion on the election in (insert random country here, most people wouldn't know about the elections of).

Moe: automatically goes into lecture mode about democracy and the evil's of government  and gets so passionate and loud aftet 5 minutes of it Issac needs to come and save the reporter who eyes are as wide as saucers and is questiong everything.

Like, I can just imagine the chaos of the AFC and their personalities in a segment like this. The fans would go crazy for it, too

[butterfly-lies-chase-them-away]

Office Hours/Bells - Jonathan Crane x Fem!Reader (Part 2)

Pairing: Professor!Jonathan Crane x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 16409

Warnings: Obsessive behaviour, Professor x Student, mild body horror, kidnapping

Summary: Jonathan had taken Y/n back to his hideout. He wanted to keep her close so she couldn't expose his identity, but he also wanted her company. this is a part two.

A/N: thank you everyone for reading the first part, I never planned to make a part two, but I had someone in the comments asking for it so I thought 'it couldn't hurt' so here we are! Just a heads up, I made Y/n's mums name (Karen) because it's such a common mum name, so if that's not your mums name, just insert yours. It's only said once anyways so it's not that important. He also might be a bit OOC so sorry about that. (Office Hours/Bells Masterlist) (Part 1) - (Part 3)

-

Jonathan knew he could come off harsh as a teacher. In almost every lecture, he couldn't help but poke fun at his students' expenses. He felt insulted by their audacity to believe they could truly grasp his intellect. And he wouldn’t lie, he enjoyed seeing them squirm as well. 

Most students barely lasted a month in Jonathan's classes, and even those who did manage to stick around were nothing more than mediocre. However, there was one student that captured his attention – not because she was loud or flashy, but because of her care and thought she put into her work. Her dedication spoke volumes to Jonathan, leaving him intrigued and enamored.

Jonathan had never expected to interact with her beyond the classroom setting. Yet, the moment she entered his office and sought his help, something within him shifted. He couldn't resist the urge to know more about her. Suddenly, she was no longer just another student; she was an enigma, a puzzle he desperately craved to solve. With each passing encounter, his obsession grew stronger, consuming him like a drug until he could hardly imagine living without her. Like an addict, he yearned for more – more knowledge, more insight, and ultimately, more of her.

Desperate to prove himself worthy of her affections, he went to great lengths to impress her, going above and beyond to demonstrate his devotion, subtly. Guiding her through the eerie halls of Arkham, watching her eyes widen in wonder at every twisted detail, filled him with immense pride. Each small gesture – whether it be a compliment or an offering of assistance – served not only to affirm her value in his eyes but to cement his hold over her, hoping she fall within his web of seduction.

However, the encounter with Edward Nigma had cast a shadow over the uneasy alliance between the two villains. The Riddler had been a reliable business partner for Jonathan in the past. However, their last deal had taken an unexpected turn, resulting in Edward's incarceration within the confines of Arkham Asylum. The strained relationship between the two rogues was palpable, and it left a mark on their partnership.

As the conversation unfolded, the Riddler couldn't resist stirring the pot. His sharp gaze fixed on Crane, Nigma slyly questioned if Y/n was brought to Arkham with ulterior motives. With a calculated smirk, he hinted at Crane's association with Scarecrow, casting a shadow of doubt over the true intentions behind Y/n's presence.

The strain on their friendship became palpable when Y/n confronted Jonathan about the tension with Edward Nigma. However, discussing the truth was not a choice to him. 

The notion of kidnapping Y/n lingered in the recesses of Jonathan's mind like a forbidden temptation. To take such drastic measures would be a damning acknowledgment of his own internal turmoil, an admission that his fixation had crossed into dangerous territory. Yet, he found himself caught in a web of desire that he couldn't escape.

Jonathan grappled with conflicting emotions, torn between the part of him that yearned for what was best for Y/n and the other, more insidious side, driven by an irresistible urge to possess her. 

The decision to sew bells to Y/n's ankles, while she lay unconscious, spoke volumes about the depth of his internal conflict. It was a sinister reminder that while he harbored a desire to protect her, the darker, more primal instincts within him demanded her submission. The delicate chime of those bells echoed the symphony of Jonathan Crane's fractured desires, a haunting melody that only he could hear.

Jonathan never envisioned it coming to this point, where the lines between caring and obsession blurred into a disconcerting shade of gray. His internal battle waged on, a silent war that threatened to consume both him and the unsuspecting Y/n in the intricate dance of obsession and possession.

-

Once Jonathan Crane moved Y/n's unconscious form to his hideout, a dimly lit warehouse for his macabre experiments and toxic concoctions, he carefully laid her on a worn-out mattress in the shadowy corner of the second floor. The second floor was only a temporary home for him when he had to work late nights and long hours.

As he gently laid her tired body down, Jonathan couldn't help but notice the evidence of her distress—swollen eyes and lips, and scuffed feet from running barefoot in the Narrows. The chase must have ruined not only her spirit but her body. The room, bathed in the sickly glow of dim overhead lights, seemed to close in around them, emphasizing the gravity of the situation.

Mindful of the bells adorning her ankles, Jonathan handled her delicate form with a mix of tenderness and care. As he observed her vulnerability, the weight of guilt settled in the pit of his stomach, a sensation he couldn't shake. The cold reality of what he had done sank in, and for a fleeting moment, he questioned the boundaries he had crossed. Yet, the insatiable pull of his obsessions persisted, casting a sinister shadow over the sincerity of his remorse.

-

The struggle to regain consciousness proved to be an difficult task for Y/n. Her senses were shrouded in a fog of disorientation, her head throbbing in protest. The persistent ringing in her ears added to the dissonance, making every attempt to open her eyes an exercise in agony. When she finally managed to part her heavy lids, the hazy world around her came into view.

Blinking away the fog, Y/n took in her unsettling surroundings. A crusty mattress beneath her was the only thing found in the room she woke up in. Well, if she could really call it a room, it resembled warehouse's second floor loft of some sort by the visible tin roof and metal flooring with poorly laid carpet and open railing. A thick coat draped over her body offered minimal comfort, a stark contrast to the unease that settled deep within her.

As her ears gradually ceased their ringing, a disconcerting silence enveloped the space. Suddenly, the unmistakable sound of footsteps echoed against the metal stairs, sending a jolt through her. Her heart quickened its pace, a drumbeat of anxiety heralding the arrival of an unwelcome presence.

From the ascending stairs, a figure with dark hair and piercing blue eyes materialized, and dread tightened its grip around Y/n's chest. Jonathan Crane, the source of her torment, stood before her.

“How are you feeling?” he inquired, his voice carrying an unsettling mix of concern and detachment as he approached her bedside.

Y/n's response was a steely silence, a manifestation of her fury and fear. Her body trembled with a potent blend of emotions, and her glare bore into Jonathan, a silent accusation of betrayal.

Recognizing the futility of expecting a verbal response, Jonathan sighed, setting a glass of water and a dissolving pill beside her. "That's for the pain," he offered before retreating back down the stairs.

Once he left alone, Y/n's eyes welled with tears as the harsh reality of her captivity sank in. She cast her gaze downward, only to be confronted by the cruel reminder of her predicament—the horrid bells attached to her ankles. The weight of the situation pressed down on her, a visceral confirmation that this nightmare was, indeed, all too real.

As tears cascaded down Y/n's face, she lay on the crusted mattress, desperately attempting to stifle her sobs with her hand. The weight of her emotions bore down on her, each tear a silent testament to the fear and anguish that gripped her tightly.

Seeking solace, she reached for the thick coat that had initially offered a semblance of comfort. However, as she pulled it over herself, a wave of recognition washed over her. The scent clinging to the fabric was hauntingly familiar, a cruel reminder of the man responsible for her current torment.

In a surge of anger and defiance, Y/n hurled the coat away from her trembling form. The fabric, once a deceptive shroud of warmth, now lay discarded on the cold, unforgiving floor. "Fuck that bastard and his fucking coat," she seethed through gritted teeth and a quivering lip.

The discarded garment, like a discarded memory, lay there as a silent witness to the emotional tempest within the confines of the dimly lit warehouse. Y/n, left alone with the echoes of her pain.

-

Y/n awoke with a start, disoriented and frightened, only to find herself confronted by a man she couldn't immediately recognize. Reacting on pure instinct, she shoved him away, her instincts urging her to distance herself from any potential threat. However, the bell on her foot snagged on a loose thread of the mattress, causing a sharp cry of pain to escape her lips.

Jonathan, seemingly appearing out of nowhere, reached out to calm her, his intentions misunderstood in the haze of fear. Yet, Y/n, still gripped by a cocktail of anger and terror, vehemently rejected his touch. "Stop, Y/n, you're only going to hurt yourself," he implored, a rare note of concern colouring his voice.

"Fuck you!" Y/n spat back, her defiance ringing through the air.

Undeterred, Jonathan presented the glass of water he had placed nearby earlier, urging her to drink. However, her eyes, filled with tears and resentment, remained fixed on him with unyielding defiance. In a moment of rebellious fury, she knocked the glass from his hand, the water spilling across the mattress.

Exasperated, Jonathan kneeled on the mattress, attempting to approach her with care. Y/n, fueled by a potent mixture of fear and anger, resisted vehemently. Despite her struggles, Jonathan, with a resolve bordering on grim determination, restrained her arms, attempting to administer the pill he had procured.

Her resistance escalated into screams and kicks as he forced the pill into her mouth, the bitter taste causing her to recoil. Jonathan, undeterred, gently stroked her esophagus, triggering a reflex that forced her to swallow. Released but not defeated, she retaliated with a punch to his face, a futile expression of her rage.

Groaning but unfazed, Jonathan descended the stairs briefly, returning with a bottle of water. He left it beside her before retreating once more, leaving Y/n alone with the haunting realization that her captor's actions were driven by a twisted sense of care, a disconcerting paradox that only deepened the shadows of her captivity.

Y/n knew that they had once been friends served only to intensify the torment. The disconcerting reality of Jonathan's actions, driven by a distorted form of care, hung heavily in the air. Looking down, she finally noticed the tiny blanket placed over her, rather than the coat.

The pill, a bitter reminder of her lack of agency in this twisted narrative, lingered in her throat like a bitter truth. She couldn't shake the unsettling notion that each calculated move, from the bell-adorned ankles to the force-fed pill, was an expression of a grotesque form of affection. It was a confession steeped in darkness, a revelation that Jonathan's deranged obsession with her went beyond the bounds of conventional understanding.

Yet, as the water bottle stood there, a silent offering in the aftermath of their tumultuous encounter, Y/n couldn't bring herself to accept that he cared. She refused to believe that beneath the layers of madness, there existed a thread of genuine concern.

In the cold solitude of the warehouse, Y/n grappled not only with the physical restraints but also with the intangible bonds of a twisted connection. The unsettling blend of fear, anger, and reluctant acknowledgment of his twisted affection created a complex tapestry of emotions, weaving a narrative she never thought she'd be a part of.

-

The bitter taste of the pill lingered in Y/n's mouth, a cruel reminder of her involuntary submission to the whims of her captor. She was kind of pissed off at the fact that the pill did whatever it set out to do, at least what she assumed it was used for. Her body felt fine and she no longer ached as much.

The confinement to the bed, a symbol of her captivity, had begun to take its toll, and Y/n reluctantly acknowledged the pressing call of her biological needs. Despite her fierce determination to avoid any interaction with Jonathan, the reality of her situation forced her to confront an inevitable dilemma.

The thought of asking him for the the bathroom churned her stomach with indignation, but the urgency of the matter left her with no other choice. Contemplating a rebellious act, she briefly toyed with the idea of pissing herself on the mattress as an act of defiance. However, the potential repercussions, coupled with the degradation she would inevitably endure, prompted her to abandon the thought.

Summoning every ounce of strength, Y/n mustered the courage to rise from the worn mattress. Vertigo assailed her senses, and the room spun momentarily as she steadied herself against the railing. Glancing down, she observed Jonathan engrossed in a familiar scene of papers strewn across a table, a sight that had become all too familiar during her months of friendship with him.

Surveying the room below, she noted the limited doors—two doors serving as clear exits, one barricaded and the other locked. The last door remained an question, a potential sanctuary she dared to hope was a bathroom. 

The descent down the metal stairs felt like a journey into the unknown for Y/n. Her reluctance to be spotted by Jonathan battled with the urgent demands of her body. Creeping down the stairs with a mix of determination and caution so her bells wouldn’t jingle, she aimed to reach the bathroom undetected, weaving through the dimly lit warehouse.

However, the universe seemed to conspire against her as, upon reaching the ground floor, Jonathan's gaze fixed upon her. A curse escaped her lips internally, but undeterred, she pressed on towards the bathroom. The weight of his stare bore into her back, a constant reminder of the fragile balance between autonomy and captivity.

Reaching the door, Y/n shot a hesitant glance back at Jonathan. To her relief, he made no move to stop her, confirming her assumption that the room indeed housed the sought-after sanctuary. With a fleeting glance of defiance, she pushed the door open, revealing a simple yet welcome sight—a toilet, sink, and shower.

The rush of relief that accompanied the bathroom's discovery matched the urgency of her previous mission. Y/n took a moment to savor the normalcy of the room before relieving herself. Washing her hands afterward, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, and the reflection painted a stark contrast to the composed person she once was.

Her hair, tangled and unkempt, framed a face marked by fatigue. Despite the turmoil she endured, the absence of visible bruises provided a small solace. The bathroom, a brief respite from the harsh reality of her captivity, became a sanctuary where she confronted not only her immediate needs but also the disheveled reflection of a person transformed by the torment of her circumstances.

The abrupt encounter with Jonathan at the bathroom door elicited a startled shriek from Y/n. Her initial fear, however, quickly morphed into frustration, and she met his gaze with a furious intensity. "What the fuck, man!" she yelled, the anger evident in her voice.

Jonathan, seemingly taken aback by her outburst, tried to explain, "I was just going to ask if you were okay..."

Y/n huffed, her patience worn thin, and decisively pushed past him, ascending the stairs. "Never been better," she retorted sarcastically, leaving Jonathan behind.

Back on the mattress, Y/n's gaze shifted to the bottle of water placed on the ground. Her body, indifferent to the passage of time in captivity, left her uncertain of whether she was genuinely thirsty or if the sensation had been forgotten. Opting for caution, she grabbed the bottle and took a sip, immediately realizing she had been deprived of water for far too long. Chugging the entire bottle, she felt a measure of relief wash over her.

The realization that she had, just moments ago, shoved Jonathan out of the way emboldened Y/n. The absence of discipline after she had defiantly pushed past him fueled her growing conviction that there might be room for manipulation within the confines of her captivity. Her mind raced with possibilities, and she seized the opportunity to further test the limits of his proclaimed reluctance to inflict harm.

Opting for a subtle test, she tossed the empty bottle down the stairs, breaking the rhythmic pattern of Jonathan's work below. The scrapping of his chair made her breath stop. Anxiety gripped her as she heard the distinct sound of him ascending the stairs, her heart sinking with each step. However, the sight of a new bottle of water in his hands replaced her dread with a fleeting sense of relief.

Jonathan approached her, placing the bottle beside her without uttering a word. A sense of triumph welled within Y/n as he retreated, leaving her alone once again. The power dynamic, though skewed in his favor, showed signs of malleability.

Her smirk deepened as she contemplated how else she could navigate this precarious situation. The newfound knowledge that certain actions yielded unexpected outcomes spurred her imagination. Y/n, despite the dire circumstances, felt a glimmer of control in the face of her captor's unpredictable responses. As the wheels of her mind turned, she began to strategize, determined to exploit every opportunity to regain some semblance of agency in this nightmarish game.

-

The routine of tossing empty bottles down the stairs had evolved into a strange yet strangely effective communication method between Y/n and Jonathan. It became a silent pact, an unspoken agreement where she would throw a bottle, and he, in turn, would return with a fresh bottle of water without a single uttered word. The dynamic, though unconventional, provided Y/n with a sense of control, a small victory in the vast landscape of her captivity.

However, the game extended only to the water bottles. When it came to the food Jonathan brought, mostly simple take-out fare, she refrained from throwing it down the stairs. Despite her desire to maintain some semblance of control, she retained a sense of civility, not willing to degrade herself to the level of an animal in her attempts to navigate the situation. Instead, he’d just take the plate away when he gave her a new bottle.

On one particular day, feeling sluggish and unclean after what she assumed was a week without bathing, Y/n decided it was time to push the boundaries further. Throwing down another bottle, she waited for Jonathan's customary ascent up the stairs.

As he arrived with the expected bottle of water, he mused aloud, "I ought to get you a bin," revealing a hint of acknowledgment regarding their peculiar communication method.

Before he could retreat back downstairs, breaking the silent rhythm of their exchanges, Y/n summoned the courage to address him directly. "Jonathan..." Her voice, a rare sound in the confines of their strange relationship, brought him to a halt. He turned back to face her, silent anticipation written on his features.

"I need to shower," Y/n admitted, her vulnerability seeping through her words.

Jonathan, surprisingly accommodating, thought for a moment before responding, "Yeah, of course."

Her next revelation hung in the air, "I don't have any clothes."

"Sorry about that," he replied. "You go have your shower, and I'll bring you some clothes." With that, he headed down the stairs.

As she approached the bathroom, the subtle jingle of the bells on her feet caught her attention. The idea of showering with them on seemed uncomfortable, a painful reminder of past wounds. However, most of the injuries had healed by now, and she reasoned that it couldn't hurt too bad—just as long as she avoided tugging on anything sensitive. The promise of a shower, a rare luxury in her current state, became a momentary respite in the otherwise harrowing routine of her captivity.

The rhythmic sound of water hitting the shower floor enveloped Y/n as she stood beneath the refreshing spray. Stripping away the layers of captivity, she entered the shower, relishing the sensation of the water cascading down her tired body like a soothing rain. Glancing around, she spotted only a solitary bar of soap, resigning herself to the fact that her hair would have to wait for another day.

As the water ran down her, she couldn't help but contemplate her predicament. A sigh escaped her lips as she gazed up at the showerhead. The solitude of the shower became an unexpected confessional, and in a whispered admission to herself, she muttered, "...I might just fucking drown myself."

Yet, as the thought lingered, she quickly dismissed it. The logistics of such an act in a shower, coupled with the awareness that she wasn't suicidal, led her to shrug off the dark notion. Redirecting her focus, she began washing her body diligently, navigating around the bells with a careful touch. The leisurely pace became a momentary escape, a respite from the harsh reality that awaited her beyond the comforting spray.

When she eventually emerged from the shower, enveloped in the warmth of the towels, she wondered why Jonathan hadn’t knocked on the door yet, and as if summoned, the knock came. She found Jonathan holding a pile of clothes for her. "Sorry for taking a while," he offered.

She responded with silence. She accepted the clothes, bringing them into the bathroom. Drying herself off, she examined the clothes, confirming that they were indeed Jonathan's. The absence of underwear was a minor inconvenience, and she chose not to dwell on it. 

Dressed in Jonathan's clothes, Y/n emerged from the bathroom, prompting him to turn his attention away from his desk. Standing up, he inquired, "The clothes are fine?"

She nodded awkwardly, a silent acknowledgment of the peculiar exchange. Jonathan then said, "I'll go get you some clothes tomorrow from your dorm back at the university when I head to work. You don't need underwear right now, do you?"

Y/n shook her head in response. Jonathan, seemingly satisfied with her reply, returned to his work without further conversation.

Making her way back upstairs, Y/n was met with a shock. The decrepit mattress she had grown accustomed to was now replaced with a fresh one, adorned with clean sheets and a duvet, the tiny blanket she slept with the past few days placed overtop. To her surprise, it was elevated on wooden pallets, forming a makeshift bed base. The unexpected upgrade left her momentarily speechless, and she peered underneath, confirming the presence of the improvised support.

In a strange turn of events, she now had a proper bed. The realization struck her, and she couldn't help but cast a glance over the railing at Jonathan. A sense of gratitude tugged at her, and for a fleeting moment, she felt the urge to express her thanks. However, the weight of her captivity, the confinement, and the uncertainty of her situation promptly extinguished that impulse.

Walking back to her new bed, the conflicting emotions within her surfaced once again. The gesture felt like a twisted attempt to add a touch of comfort to her captivity. Anger, frustration, and a deep-seated sense of helplessness resurfaced, and Y/n, unable to contain her emotions, allowed herself a moment of vulnerability. She sank onto the bed, repressed tears welling in her eyes, as the cruel reality of her situation pressed heavily upon her.

-

The next day brought an unusual moment of opportunity as Y/n heard the distinct sound of Jonathan leaving the warehouse. It was the first time she had heard him leave, and the realization struck her that he had taken an entire week off work just to remain within the confines of the warehouse, likely to keep an eye on her. The emptiness left in his absence stirred a flicker of hope within her—a chance, perhaps, to explore the possibility of escape.

Descending the stairs, she cast a hopeful glance at the main entrance, only to find it stubbornly locked. Frustration crept in, but she decided to leave the main entrance for a later attempt. Undeterred, she moved to the boarded-up door, her eyes narrowing at the bolted bars. Despite her doubts about her strength, she grasped at the bars, giving them an experimental tug. The cold metal resisted her efforts, but the determination within her fueled a futile attempt to dislodge the impediment. She knew it would be futile, but it was worth a shot.

Turning her attention back to the main door, she surveyed the room for any tools that might aid her escape. Unfortunately, the sparse surroundings offered little beyond medical equipment and scattered papers. A sigh escaped her lips as she considered her limited options. Deciding to try a more direct approach, she mustered her strength and rammed against the door, only to be met with searing pain. The movies had lied – doors were far more resilient than she had anticipated.

Wincing from the failed attempt, she quickly retreated back up the stairs, the jingling of her bells echoing a defeat that resonated throughout the desolate warehouse. The fleeting glimmer of hope had dimmed, leaving her once again in the stark reality of her captivity, where even the simplest act of escape proved to be an insurmountable challenge.

The return of Jonathan marked the end of a long and tedious stretch of hours for Y/n. The absence of any form of entertainment in the warehouse became painfully apparent when left alone. The monotony was only broken by the sound of Jonathan's return, a stark reminder of the silent emptiness that lingered in his absence.

Jonathan ascended the stairs, each step accompanied by the weight of boxes in his arms. Multiple trips followed until a stack of three boxes stood beside Y/n's newly provided bed.

"There's your clothes and other things I thought you might need," Jonathan stated.

Y/n, caught off guard, involuntarily responded, "Thanks—fuck!"

Her unintended expression of gratitude hung in the air, a contradiction to the lingering anger that still gripped her. She shot a glare at Jonathan, who chuckled lightly in response, before making his way back down the stairs. The automatic politeness clashed with the undercurrent of resentment that fueled her, leaving Y/n with a mix of conflicting emotions as she contemplated the contents of the boxes beside her.

Sorting through the boxes, the first contained an assortment of clothes, providing a semblance of normalcy amid the chaos of her captivity. The second box held toiletries—shampoo, conditioner, and a toothbrush, a practical acknowledgment of basic needs. However, it was the contents of the third box that stirred an unexpected wave of emotions within Y/n.

She hesitated to delve too deeply into the box, but her eyes were immediately drawn to a soft toy nestled among the items. As she laid eyes on the familiar stuffed creature, a gift from her parents, her heart skipped a beat. The floodgates of emotion opened, catching her off guard.

She gingerly plucked the soft toy from the box, holding it close to her chest as if reuniting with an old friend. The texture of the familiar fabric, the scent of nostalgia, and the sentimental value of the cherished possession enveloped her in a bittersweet embrace. Tears welled in her eyes, and her heart ached with a poignant mix of longing and comfort.

In that moment, the soft toy became a tangible link to a world beyond the confines of the warehouse. It held the essence of home, a symbol of the relationships and memories she held dear. As Y/n hugged the cherished possession, the emotional weight of her situation momentarily shifted, offering a fleeting respite from the harsh reality of captivity.

-

The next morning, Y/n's routine took an unexpected turn as her gaze fell upon a novel placed beside her water bottle. Picking it up, she read the synopsis on the back, a small but significant shift in her otherwise monotonous existence. A smile graced her lips as the realization dawned—she now had something to occupy her time, a welcome distraction from the dull routine that had consumed her days.

Curiosity piqued, she opened the book, and as she flipped the pages, a small piece of paper fluttered to the ground. Retrieving it, she found a note that read: 'There is a fridge downstairs with leftover takeaways and a microwave above it.'

Excitement bubbled within her as she hopped off the bed, the soft toy still cradled in her arms. Approaching the railing, she surveyed the scene below and saw exactly what the note had described. A fridge filled with possibilities and a microwave poised above it promised a break from the mundane.

Rushing back to her newfound haven, she settled onto the bed, toy still in hand, and delved into the world within the pages of the novel. The words transported her to another realm, offering a temporary escape from the harsh reality of her captivity. In that moment, the warehouse transformed into a cocoon of solace, where the power of literature became a beacon of hope in the midst of her confined existence.

-

The introduction of a new routine marked a subtle shift in the dynamics of the warehouse. As Jonathan resumed his work, every other day brought a fresh book to Y/n's bedside, a silent acknowledgment of a shared love for literature. She had adapted to the solitude, getting her own sustenance from the fridge and maintaining a self-sufficient existence within the confines of the warehouse.

However, the lingering silence between them spoke volumes. Neither was willing to break the unspoken barrier. Jonathan, obstinate in his desire for Y/n to initiate conversation, held back any attempts at communication. On the other hand, Y/n, fueled by a mixture of resentment and a desire to maintain her sense of independence, remained resolute in her silence. After all, Jonathan was the architect of her captivity.

The tension escalated as Jonathan made a deliberate move to bridge the gap. Upon returning from work, he ascended the stairs and found Y/n engrossed in her reading, the soft toy cradled in her arms. Unfazed by her apparent disinterest, he unfolded a chair and placed it beside her bed. Seating himself, arms crossed, he waited in a silent invitation for a conversation that seemed inevitable.

Y/n cast a brief glance in his direction before turning away, fixing her gaze on the book in hand. Hoping for a swift departure, she found herself disheartened as Jonathan remained steadfast in his resolve to break the wall of silence that had settled between them.

Reflecting on Jonathan's social interactions, Y/n wasn’t surprise that he had befriended one of his students. His awkwardness and apparent lack of social cues didn't exactly position him as a social butterfly. In fact, she found herself pondering how she, too, had become entangled in his peculiar friendship. As she turned the pages of the novel, her thoughts remained on the strangeness that was Jonathan Crane.

Jonathan, his face etched with a blend of regret and desperation, finally broached the unspoken barrier that loomed between them. "How can I ever get you to forgive me, Y/n..." he asked, his hands rubbing wearily across his face.

A fire still burned within Y/n's eyes as she continued to glare at him. "Well, you can start with taking off these fucking bells," she retorted, her tone dripping with defiance.

There was a glimmer of hope in Jonathan's eyes at the prospect of making amends. He stood up from the chair and hastened down the stairs, a sense of urgency in his movements. The clinking and shuffling sounds below suggested a hurried search for something. Moments later, he reappeared, rushing up the stairs with his arms filled with equipment.

Carefully placing the items down, he selected a syringe from the assortment. Y/n, ever watchful, instinctively pressed herself into the corner, creating a distance between them.

"It's just an anesthetic, don't worry," Jonathan reassured, his voice carrying a tinge of sincerity.

The air in the room grew heavier with Y/n's skepticism as she responded, "And I'm supposed to believe you?"

Jonathan, determined to proceed, cut to the chase. "Do you want the bells off or not?" he asked, a hint of urgency in his voice.

Y/n let out a resigned sigh before reluctantly extending her feet toward him. Jonathan, carefully holding one foot, positioned the needle in close proximity. "I will only hurt for a second," he reassured, his words offering a small semblance of comfort.

Bracing herself, Y/n turned her gaze away as Jonathan pressed the needle into her skin. A sharp sting coursed through her for a brief moment as the fluid infiltrated her system. The room hung in suspense as Jonathan withdrew the needle, leaving only the waiting game for the anaesthetic to take effect. 

The numbness settled into Y/n's foot after a minute. Jonathan, wielding a surgical knife with clinical precision, cut into the skin, his focused expression revealing the gravity of the task at hand. The sight of him peeling back the skin and remove the bells sent a wave of nausea through Y/n. Witnessing the unsettling process, she averted her gaze, unable to bear the visceral reality unfolding before her.

As Jonathan delicately removed the bells, he skillfully stitched up the incision with a few practiced movements. He took care while bandaging her foot, relieving her of the discomfort she had while watching the entire ordeal. Y/n didn’t want to watch him deal with her other foot as she felt sick enough as is.

Her stomach churned with unease, and a sense of relief washed over her as Jonathan said, "Your feet will be numb for a while, so don't go walking around much. And you already know how your feet will feel when it wears off."

As Jonathan stood up, he handed a pill to Y/n, a silent offering to help possibly later pain or infection, she didn’t know and she didn’t ask. Accepting the pill, Y/n reached for the bottle of water beside her bed. However, her attempt at solace was abruptly halted when she watched Jonathan resettle himself in the chair beside her bed.

The warehouse seemed to amplify the growing tension between Y/n and Jonathan as the pill lingered in her hand, an unspoken bridge between relief and resentment. The weight of his gaze intensified her irritation, making the simple act of taking the pill an unexpected battleground.

"Take the pill, Y/n," Jonathan urged, his tone clearly indicating his impatience.

"I don't want to..." Y/n retorted, a rebellious spirit akin to that of a stroppy child.

Jonathan's patience wore thin, and a veiled threat slipped from his lips, "Do you want me to force it down your throat again?"

"I'm not your fucking cat," Y/n shot back, a mixture of defiance and begrudging compliance evident in her demeanor. Despite her resistance, she reluctantly conceded, swallowing the pill. Jonathan rolled his eyes at her behaviour.

"Anything else you would like me to do in the meantime?" Jonathan asked, his tone not hiding his exhaustion.

Y/n, seizing the opportunity to exercise her control, decided to push the boundaries. "I want a TV," she demanded, a request more driven by the desire to inconvenience him than any actual need for entertainment.

To her surprise, Jonathan readily agreed. "Yeah, I can do that. I'll bring one tomorrow," he said, a gesture of compliance that caught Y/n off guard.

Not one to back down, Y/n continued testing the limits. "And a couch," she added, pushing his buttons further, expecting a hint of resistance.

"If not tomorrow, I'll have one by Thursday," Jonathan assured, the easy acceptance marking a stark change from the expected power dynamic.

Y/n, realizing the depth of his desperation for her approval, found herself in uncharted territory, a moment of revelation that hinted at the complexity of their connection within the confines of the warehouse. The power play between captor and captive took an unexpected turn, leaving Y/n grappling with the realization that perhaps Jonathan's motivations were more nuanced than she had initially assumed.

"I, umm... I don't really need them," Y/n admitted, a sudden twinge of guilt clouding her defiance. While she knew Jonathan deserved the challenges she threw his way, a compassionate side of her couldn't help but surface.

"No, you need more. I'm sorry the conditions aren't ideal, so whatever you need, I'll get it," Jonathan replied earnestly. "Besides, I can just bring most things from my apartment."

The unexpected revelation piqued Y/n's curiosity. "So you do have an apartment?" she inquired.

"I do. I just don't go there often. I stay here most days. That's why I had the mattress before," Jonathan explained.

A question lingered in Y/n's mind, and she couldn't resist asking, "So where do you sleep now?" Considering she now occupied the mattress.

"I don't sleep much, but sometimes I just fall asleep at my desk," Jonathan admitted.

"Well, once you get the couch in, you'll have a nicer sleeping spot," Y/n remarked, brining lightheartedness into the conversation.

Jonathan's smile and laughter, though brief, hinted at a shared moment of glee amidst the unconventional circumstances that defined their interactions. 

"I'll leave you be now," Jonathan declared, slapping his knees and rising from his seat before descending the stairs.

Y/n watched his departure before shifting her gaze downward to her feet. It felt strange to see them without the bells now, a tangible reminder of the symbolic chains that had bound her. Yet, the absence of the constant jingling provided an unexpected sense of relief. She could already envision the scar that would mark the place where the bells once clung, but the prospect didn't particularly bother her.

Beside her feet lay the four bells, now detached from her ankles. She reached for them, holding the shiny metal in her hands. Some of her blood still clung to the surface from Jonathan's removal. Y/n wiped it off with her finger, a silent acknowledgment of the visceral experience she had just undergone. Placing the bells down beside her bed, she returned her attention to her reading, immersing herself in the solace that the words on the pages provided—a temporary escape from the complex reality that lingered in the confines of the warehouse.

-

She was roused from her slumber the next morning by the unmistakable sounds of furniture being rearranged downstairs. Surprisingly, as she got up from the bed, her feet barely hurt—a revelation that added an unexpected layer of comfort. Peering over the railing, she observed Jonathan's determined efforts to make space for the couch she had casually requested the day before. The sight of him pushing and maneuvering the heavy furniture hinted at the challenges he must have faced in bringing it through the door.

Jonathan, undeterred by the apparent struggle, eventually succeeded in positioning the couch to his satisfaction. A brief exit and return revealed him carrying a small coffee table, placing it against the wall in front of the newly positioned couch.

"Good morning," Jonathan greeted, catching sight of Y/n as he continued his efforts.

"Hi," she responded quietly, still somewhat stunned by the unexpected display of consideration.

Her surprise deepened as Jonathan ventured outside again, returning with a relatively sized television. Y/n couldn't help but descend the stairs slowly, watching with wide eyes as he set up the cables behind the TV. The realization struck her—Jonathan had gone out of his way to fulfill her requests, even the dumbest requests. As he turned to see her standing behind him, a mix of gratitude and astonishment painted her expression. The dynamics between captor and captive seemed to shift once again, revealing nuances in their connection that neither had anticipated.

"I'm assuming you know how to work a TV?" Jonathan asked, handing her the remote.

Still in a state of shock, she accepted the remote slowly, her fingers wrapping around it. Pressing the power button, the television flickered to life, showcasing some random show from the nineties. Her gaze shifted from the screen to Jonathan, her eyes reflecting the astonishment she felt. In that moment, the man before her seemed more like the Jonathan she had befriended back at the university in his office.

"Uhh... I'll be out for the rest of the day. I have work and... other matters to handle," Jonathan explained, his demeanor awkward and shy.

Unable to contain herself, Y/n found her arms wrapping around Jonathan, the gesture of gratitude. Jonathan, caught off guard, remained motionless for a moment before reciprocating, his arms encircling her in a hesitant embrace. The room was filled with an unspoken understanding, the unexpected connection between the two evolving into a moment of vulnerability and shared comfort. The rapid beating of Jonathan's heart echoed the complexity of their relationship, leaving both of them suspended in a moment that defied the conventional boundaries of their circumstances.

Pulling back from the embrace, she studied Jonathan's face. The bright red hue on his cheeks betrayed his embarrassment, yet he attempted to play it off with a nervous adjustment of his glasses and increased fidgeting.

"I'll head off now," Jonathan announced, a subtle awkwardness lingering in the air.

Y/n nodded in acknowledgment, her gaze following him as he left the warehouse. Settling back onto the couch, she shifted her attention to the TV. The simple act of watching television provided a welcome diversion from the routine of reading, offering a momentary escape from the peculiar circumstances that defined their existence within the confines of the warehouse.

-

When Jonathan returned to the warehouse well after midnight, he found the TV still flickering, casting a soft glow across the room. Y/n, however, had succumbed to sleep on the couch. Jonathan couldn't help but chuckle at the sight—she was slouched on the couch, her head tilted to the side, she would undoubtedly wake up with a stiff neck.

Quietly making his way over, Jonathan gently called her name. Y/n stirred, her eyes slowly focusing on him. In his hand, he held a familiar takeout drink tray.

"I got you a smoothie," Jonathan said, offering her the beverage.

Y/n, rubbing her eyes, gratefully accepted the smoothie. The thoughtful gesture didn't go unnoticed. He had remembered their usual orders, a nostalgic echo of the routine they used to share. "Thank you, Jonathan," Y/n expressed her gratitude.

She took a sip of the smoothie, and Jonathan settled down on the opposite end of the couch, nursing his own coffee. Y/n couldn’t believe that he went out of his way in the dead of night to get the two of them drinks. Like they used to.

"Why are you so nice to me? Most kidnappers aren't as generous as you are," Y/n questioned, looking down at her drink, confusion evident in her eyes.

Jonathan dropped his hands, meeting her gaze with heavy eyes. "I don't want you to feel like you've been kidnapped. I know you technically have, but I'm only doing this because you know too much... and you're my friend. I just want to keep you safe," he explained, the sincerity in his voice piercing through the air.

"So why can't I leave at all?" Y/n pressed, seeking clarity on the boundaries that confined her.

"Because I know you won't come back to me," he admitted, his words heavy with a mixture of longing and fear, revealing a vulnerability that lay beneath the surface. The complexity of their relationship hung in the air, leaving them both to grapple with the intricacies of emotions that defied the conventional norms of captor and captive.

She was well aware of his feelings for her; he had already confessed. Every gesture, every act of kindness, was an unspoken testament to his affection. With each passing day, the evidence of his genuine care only grew stronger. Surprisingly, she found herself reciprocating feelings, not in the way he desired, but as a friend. In the confines of the warehouse, their evolving friendship became a source of solace, making the otherwise challenging situation somewhat bearable. 

Y/n finished her drink, and Jonathan, being considerate, took her empty cup to the bin. "You should probably go to sleep," he suggested.

Nodding in agreement, Y/n slowly made her way towards the stairs. Before heading up, she glanced back at Jonathan. "Goodnight," she said.

Jonathan met her gaze, offering a small smile. "Goodnight, my dear," he replied.

With that, she headed to bed and found sleep easily, the sense of security and newfound companionship making the warehouse feel less like a prison and more like an unexpected haven. The nightly routine, once defined by isolation, had transformed into a shared experience that bridged the gap between the two.

-

Jonathan's gaze lingered on Y/n as she sat on the couch, engrossed in her book. A satisfied smile played on his lips, a silent acknowledgment of his decision to place the couch downstairs. Originally, he had contemplated situating it on the second floor where she slept, but the logistics of maneuvering it up the stairs alone proved daunting. However, a more significant reason was emerging – he relished her presence. Having her in close proximity brought a sense of comfort, and now, with her belongings downstairs, she had more reasons to be near him.

His plan had unintentionally transformed the warehouse into a shared space. The atmosphere had shifted from a mere place of confinement to a peculiar kind of coexistence. As Jonathan resumed his work, he found solace in the unspoken companionship that had developed between them.

Jonathan had never been one to crave the presence of another person. His life had been one of solitude and seclusion, an intentional choice rooted in past experiences that had made his interactions with people nothing but hell. His patience was short, and his temper quick, leading him to snap and belittle those around him.

His history was tainted by strained familial relationships, particularly with his grandmother, who had cast a shadow over potential family dynamics and other close connections. High school only exacerbated his disdain for people. Growing up, Jonathan had accepted the notion that he was destined for a life of loneliness, and surprisingly, he had been content with that prospect. Until Y/n had walked into his office.

Everything within him seemed to shift on the day she entered his life. His feelings, once reserved and guarded, underwent a transformation. The desire for her presence, her company, became a profound longing. Jonathan recognized the unhealthy nature of this longing, particularly given his profession as a psychologist, where he encountered individuals struggling with similar issues. Yet, he reasoned that he had engaged in far more damaging behaviors before. Y/n's presence had, unwittingly, redefined his understanding of connection and companionship.

Jonathan grappled with conflicting emotions. On one hand, he recognized the inherent wrongness of keeping Y/n locked up. He understood the ethical imperative of granting her freedom, allowing her to live her life unencumbered. Yet, desperation clawed at him, fueling the impulse to keep her close. The secrets she held about him, the vulnerabilities she could expose, played a significant role in this internal struggle.

More than that, Jonathan was tethered to her presence by a profound longing that surged through him. It wasn't easy to navigate this desire without her nearby, and the very idea of her leaving stirred anxiety within him. He yearned for her companionship, a connection that had become an integral part of his life.

Witnessing Y/n gradually acclimating to this peculiar new lifestyle brought a sense of relief to Jonathan. He knew it wasn't a sustainable solution, but for the moment, he embraced whatever semblance of normalcy he could find. The complexities of their relationship and the uncertainties of the future weighed heavily on him, but, for now, he would take solace in the fragile connection they shared.

-

Y/n lounged on the couch, flicking through channels as the television emitted a dull hum. Daytime TV proved to be a lackluster companion, offering little more than cheesy infomercials and forgettable reruns. The warehouse echoed with silence, emphasizing the monotony of her confinement. Y/n had been flipping through the channels for what felt like an hour, but nothing seemed to peak her interests.

With Jonathan away at work, Y/n felt an unusual sense of solitude. The newfound freedom to explore the warehouse was both a blessing and a curse. As her gaze wandered around the space, she pondered the mysteries hidden within its walls. The medical equipment, the remnants of Jonathan's research, and the memories of her time spent here intrigued her. She strolled over to his cluttered workbench, where an array of papers, vials, and scientific instruments were scattered. Initially, the documents detailing fear toxins didn't capture her interest; she wasn't keen on delving into the intricacies of Jonathan's fucked up, scientific pursuits.

Her curiosity, however, led her to the drawers beneath the bench. With a gentle pull, Y/n revealed a trove of surprises. The first drawer held a meticulous assortment of labeled vials, each containing distinct substances. She picked up one of the vials, labeled and dated with precision, recognizing the scent instantly. It was the same perfume she had often detected on Jonathan during their encounters.

Pausing to take in the familiar fragrance, she couldn't help but wonder if he had crafted it for a specific purpose. The adjacent papers provided some context, revealing various combinations of scents and their effects. Y/n noticed a sheet that stood out, titled 'Scents and Fragrances that Attract Women.' Intrigued, she perused the list, accompanied by Jonathan's handwritten notes, showcasing his dedication to understanding the nuances of cologne.

Y/n discovered a playful side of Jonathan. A sheet contained doodles and sketches of different fragrance bottles, each annotated with amusing comments. The revelation that Jonathan, the Scarecrow, had a detailed study on cologne preferences added an unexpected layer to his character, leaving Y/n both amused and perplexed by the complexity hidden beneath his fearsome exterior.

Beside the humorous list, there were various combinations of scents documented, showcasing his dedication to finding the perfect olfactory concoction. As she sifted through the papers, Y/n discovered more details about the specific fragrances he had explored, some even labeled with comments like "subtle and alluring" or "intense and captivating."

It became apparent that Jonathan had not only delved into the science of fear toxins but also applied a similar level of scrutiny to the world of fragrances. The revelation added a layer of complexity to the man she thought she knew, leaving Y/n intrigued by the unexpected facets of Jonathan Crane's character.

Y/n continued her exploration, stumbling upon another set of papers that caught her eye. As she read through the notes, her eyes widened in disbelief. "First test showed positive reactions; she became immediately distracted and clearly smelt the air." The revelation struck her like a lightning bolt. The date aligned perfectly with the second day she sought Jonathan's assistance at the office. It dawned on her—was he talking about her?

Examining the page closely, she couldn't help but smile at the small, endearing details. Little smiley faces and hearts were doodled in the corner, adding a touch of unexpected warmth to the some what stoic man. The contrast between the menacing Scarecrow and the man who took the time to create a cologne to attract her left Y/n in a state of pleasant surprise.

This newfound revelation sparked a mix of emotions within her—confusion, curiosity, and a hint of amusement. The complexity of Jonathan Crane, the Scarecrow, unfolded before her, revealing a person with unexpected intricacies beneath the mask of fear and intimidation.

-

As the clock ticked well past midnight, Y/n's concern grew with each passing moment. Restlessly, she lay on her bed, unable to find solace in sleep. The weight of uncertainty pressed upon her, and the silent echoes of the empty warehouse only heightened her unease. Her thoughts revolved around Jonathan's prolonged absence, and the shadows played tricks on her restless mind.

Suddenly, a resounding slam reverberated through the warehouse, jolting her from her half-hearted attempts at rest. With a surge of adrenaline, Y/n sprang to her feet and hurried to the balcony, her eyes scanning the dimly lit space below.

Y/n observed Jonathan from the second floor balcony, his weary footsteps echoing through the warehouse. The day hadn't gone as planned for him, and it showed. He limped toward his medical table, the weariness etched across his face. As he pulled off his mask and blazer, revealing the toll his endeavors had taken, Y/n couldn't help but be taken aback.

His body bore the evidence of brutal encounters—bloody welts and massive bruises painted a vivid picture of the hardships he endured. This was the same man who confidently walked into classrooms, teaching psychology to unsuspecting students. The Scarecrow's true form was far removed from the academic facade she had known.

As he unbuttoned his shirt, the extent of the damage became even more apparent. Old scars crisscrossed his body, testaments to the harsh realities of life as the Scarecrow. The scratches on his cheek, where a knife had cut through his mask, added a layer of vulnerability to the fearsome figure Y/n had grown accustomed to.

Witnessing Jonathan's physical state, Y/n grappled with conflicting emotions. The man before her was not just a villain; he was someone battered and scarred by the very terror he unleashed upon others. The revelation added a nuanced layer to her understanding of the enigmatic Scarecrow.

Y/n swiftly retreated to the mattress, her heart pounding as she tried to maintain the facade of peaceful slumber. The metal stairs announced Jonathan's movement, the distinct sounds of his grunts and creaking knees accompanying his movements. She sensed his presence drawing closer, and the weight of his gaze seemed to linger on her. As he reached the second floor, he paused, and she could only imagine him standing there, observing her.

Jonathan knelt beside her, his efforts accompanied by more audible sounds of discomfort. Despite her closed eyes, Y/n was acutely aware of the delicate balance between their strained companionship and the veiled tension that surrounded them.

The gentle touch of Jonathan's hand through her hair sent a shiver down Y/n's spine. His unexpected tenderness stirred conflicting emotions within her, creating a paradox between the comfort of the gesture and the unsettling reality of their situation. She lay there, eyes closed, pretending to sleep, as he continued his soft caress.

His actions were both perplexing and strangely intimate. The sensation of his fingers gliding through her hair felt genuine. The tenderness in that moment left her questioning the complexities of the man she thought she had figured out.

When he pressed a tender kiss on her head, Y/n's heart raced. It wasn't the fear that gripped her; it was a mixture of confusion, curiosity, and a strange acknowledgment of his unexpected vulnerability. As he left her side and descended the stairs, she opened her eyes.

Looking down at the floor beside her, Y/n noticed yet another addition to Jonathan's extensive collection. Evidently, this was his nightly routine – one that left her feeling grateful. Out of curiosity, she carefully picked up the book and began flipping through its pages, hoping to gain some insight into the man behind the mask. 

Feeling bold, Y/n rose from her bed and descended the staircase, her eyes landing upon Jonathan slumped on the couch. For a brief moment, they locked gazes – a mutual understanding passed between them, igniting a spark of curiosity within her. Without saying a word, Y/n extended her hand, beckoning him to follow her upstairs. Surprised yet mesmerized, Jonathan took hold of her hand, allowing her to lead by her.

Silently, Y/n led Jonathan upstairs, guiding him towards the sanctuary of her bed. Once settled, she climbed onto the mattress beside him, their bodies mere inches apart. Time seemed to stand still as they stared into each other's eyes, yearning for connection amidst chaos. 

“What are you doing, my Dea—" Jonathan was cut off.

“Do you need some pain relief?” Y/n asked, her gaze steady and awkward yet holding a peculiar warmth.

Jonathan looked at her for a moment, their eyes meeting in a silent exchange. Her question hung in the air, a simple offering wrapped in genuine concern.

“No... I already had some, my Dear,” Jonathan replied, his smile revealing a hint of gratitude beneath the layers of exhaustion.

Y/n hesitated for a moment, her eyes reflecting concern. "You don't have to pretend with me, Jonathan," she said softly. "I can see how much pain you're in."

Jonathan's smile faded, replaced by a vulnerability that mirrored the weariness in his eyes. The acknowledgment of his pain seemed to catch him off guard, a stark departure from the usual interaction between them.

"I appreciate the concern, Y/n," Jonathan admitted, his gaze dropping to the scars that adorned his body. "But there's not much you can do about it."

Y/n, despite the unconventional circumstances, felt a strange sense of empathy for him. She reached out tentatively, her hand resting on his arm. The touch was subtle but carried a weight of understanding. Jonathan, in response, seemed to relax a fraction.

"Maybe there isn't much I can do," Y/n began, "but that doesn't mean I can't try to make you more comfortable."

She shuffled a bit on the bed, reaching for the bottle of water on the floor. Without waiting for a response, she handed it to him. Jonathan accepted it, their eyes locking for a moment, an unspoken acknowledgment passing between them. The warehouse, once a fortress of fear, now held an unexpected camaraderie.

Just as Jonathan tried to take a sip, a low groan of pain escaped his lips.

"Maybe you should let me take a look at those injuries," Y/n suggested, her voice softer than usual. 

Jonathan hesitated for a moment, his guarded expression softening as he nodded in agreement. She carefully examined the wounds, her touch gentle yet deliberate. The silence enveloped them, broken only by the occasional creaking of the old warehouse. Y/n, engrossed in her task, felt a mix of emotions. It was surreal—here she was, tending to the very person who had held her captive.

Y/n delicately traced the contours of the bruise on his side, her fingers gliding down his ribs. She noticed the shiver that ran through him, and he instinctively held his breath. It was a touch so intimate, Jonathan had never experienced before.

As she worked, a thought crossed her mind. "Why do you do this to yourself, Jonathan?" she asked quietly, almost to herself. The question hung in the air, seeking an answer that neither of them seemed ready to give.

Y/n sighed, realizing Jonathan wouldn't share the details. She decided to drop the subject, acknowledging that some things were best left unsaid. The room fell into a quiet understanding, punctuated only by the distant hum of the refrigerator and the creaks of the warehouse settling.

“Do you have some kind of soothing cream or something?” Y/n asked.

He nodded slightly, "I should have some in my second drawer on the right."

Y/n swiftly made her way down the stairs, her steps echoing in the dimly lit warehouse. She reached the workbench and located the specified drawer. Pulling it open, she found a small jar of homemade cream. It was clear that Jonathan had crafted it himself.

With the jar in hand, she rushed back up the stairs once more, her heart pounding with a mixture of uncertainty and curiosity. Returning to the bed, she opened the jar, revealing a subtle, soothing aroma. The cream had a velvety texture, and she dipped her fingers into it before gently applying it to the large bruise on Jonathan's side. The cool touch seemed to bring a momentary relief to the tension in his muscles.

She watched him visibly relax as she spread the soothing gel on his side. The cream worked its magic, casting a subtle glow on his bruised skin. As she finished applying it, she took a step back to assess her handiwork. The bruise still painted a vivid picture of pain, but there was a noticeable difference. The cream had lent a certain tenderness to the harsh, angry colors.

“Are there anymore?” Y/n asked. 

Jonathan lifted his arm above his head, revealing the bruise on the underside of his bicep. Without hesitation, she grabbed more gel and gently spread it on the affected area.

She couldn't ignore the vulnerability she saw in Jonathan's eyes, a stark contrast to the menacing figure she had initially perceived him to be. His pain was evident, not just in the physical bruises but also in the weariness that clung to him.

"Does this help?" she asked, her tone softer than before.

Jonathan didn't respond immediately; instead, he merely closed his eyes, seemingly absorbing the relief the gel provided. After a moment, he let out a subtle sigh. "Yes, it helps. Thank you."

Y/n nodded, her fingers tracing the edges of the bruise with delicate care. She couldn't deny the strange intimacy of the situation, a moment shared between captor and captive that transcended their roles.

"I never expected you to be so... hurt," she admitted, breaking the silence that lingered in the room.

Jonathan opened his eyes, meeting her gaze with a mixture of emotions. "You weren't supposed to see this side of me."

As she continued to tend to his injuries, a silent understanding settled between them. After applying the gel to most of his bruises, Y/n set the container down and laid back on the bed.

"We should probably get some sleep, especially you," Y/n suggested.

"...Thank you, my Dear," Jonathan responded, his gaze fixed on the ceiling.

Y/n offered a gentle smile. "Don't mention it." The weight of their unspoken connection hung in the air, a fragile bond that transcended the peculiar circumstances that had brought them together. With that, they allowed the quiet of the warehouse to envelop them as they sought refuge in the realm of sleep.

-

Y/n hadn't anticipated waking up to find Jonathan lying beside her. As she turned to face him, she saw him curled up, knees drawn close to his chest in a vulnerable fetal position. She couldn't help but find him unexpectedly endearing, his usual imposing presence replaced by an unexpected fragility.

Reluctant to disturb his slumber, Y/n carefully slid out of the bed and descended the stairs. There, she spotted Jonathan's burlap mask—the very one he wore as Scarecrow during their unsettling encounters. The mask held traces of his encounters, notably the slash across the cheek where he had been cut.

Holding the material delicately, Y/n searched for a needle and thread which she found tucked away in one of his drawers. She retrieved the tools and settled on the couch, turning on the TV with lowered volume to provide a subtle background noise.

With meticulous care, Y/n began the task of stitching up the two slashes on the mask, skillfully mending it in a way that made the cuts imperceptible. As she worked, her mind swirled with thoughts about the man whose vulnerability she now witnessed.

She hadn't heard Jonathan approach, his movements muffled despite his subtle grunts, until his presence loomed above her. Startled, she turned to meet his gaze.

"Good morning. How are you feeling today?" Y/n inquired, genuine concern etched on her face.

"Better. A real bed makes all the difference," Jonathan replied, acknowledging the upgrade in his sleeping arrangements.

Y/n chuckled before presenting his burlap mask. "I stitched up your mask."

Jonathan, taken aback by the unexpected gesture, managed a quiet, appreciative response. "Thank you." It was a small act of kindness, a rarity in his world of calculated motives and hidden agendas, and it left him momentarily stunned.

He settled into the seat beside her on the couch, an air of distress lingering on his features, but not the kind associated with physical pain—something else. Concerned, Y/n asked, "Is everything alright, Jonathan?"

“Your family called the university... they're worried,” Jonathan confessed, his gaze avoiding hers.

Her stomach sank, realization hitting her like a ton of bricks. She had completely forgotten about her family's feelings and the fact that she hadn't spoken to them in over a month.

“U-umm... is there any way you can tell them I’m okay?” Y/n's emotions surfaced, evident in her voice and expression.

“I’ve sent them emails, saying you attend my classes and that you’re okay, but you can imagine how much that helped,” Jonathan said, his words carrying a weight of stress.

Her lip quivered as she bit it, grappling with the emotions bubbling to the surface. Y/n didn’t want her family to worry; they had been against her going to Gotham in the first place. The lack of communication likely intensified their concerns.

Jonathan sensed her internal struggle and suggested, “Would you like to call them?”

Y/n's eyes widened in disbelief. She was supposed to be kidnapped, and here he was, unexpectedly offering to let her call her family. “Really?”

Jonathan took a moment to consider before nodding. “As long as you don’t mention this... situation.”

Y/n eagerly nodded. “Yes, yes. I promise.”

Jonathan rose from his seat, a noticeable limp in his step, making his way to his desk where he likely left his burner phone the day before. As he approached, Y/n stood, and he handed her the phone.

His intense gaze lingered on her as she quickly dialed her dad's number. Holding the phone to her ear, she anxiously listened to it ring.

“Hello?” the voice on the other end of the line asked.

Y/n felt a surge of hope and relief. “Dad?”

“Fucking hell! Where the fuck have you been?!” Her dad's voice boomed through the phone.

“I'm so sorry, Dad,” Y/n replied, a mix of guilt and relief coursing through her.

Jonathan observed her as she spoke, witnessing her gradual calmness and the visible release of stress from her shoulders.

“Why haven’t you been answering your phone?” her dad demanded.

“U-umm, my damn phone went to shit a bit ago, and I haven’t had the money to buy a new one. I should have said something. I'm sorry, Dad,” Y/n fabricated a lie on the spot, and a sense of relief washed over Jonathan.

“Fucking hell... well, you better go call your mum; she’s freaking out too,” her dad said, his tone slightly calmer.

“Okay, I’ll call her right after,” Y/n promised.

“Well… thanks for calling... finally,” her dad added a snarky comment, causing her to chuckle a little.

“I’ll try to keep in touch more, sorry, Dad,” Y/n said.

“Yeah, yeah…”

“I’ll call Mum now. Bye-bye, Dad. Love you. See you later. Love you. Bye,” Y/n said in a flurry.

“Yep, love you too. Bye,” he replied.

Y/n ended the call.

Jonathan chuckled, "Nice little goodbye," he remarked about how she ended the call.

Y/n smiled, "That’s how I say bye to my family... been doing it for years, just a habit, I guess."

“Your mum wasn’t there?” Jonathan asked.

“Nah, my parents are split. May I call her too?” Y/n asked.

Jonathan nodded, and she dialed her mum’s number, waiting patiently while it rang.

“Hello, Karen speaking?” her mum answered.

“Mum, it’s me,” Y/n said, feeling a lot more relaxed after talking to her dad.

“Fucking heck, Y/n! Why haven’t you been answering!” her mother exclaimed, quite similar to her dad's reaction. Jonathan couldn’t help but chuckle.

“I’m sorry, Mum. I’ve just talked to Dad. My bloody phone got messed up ages ago, and I haven’t been able to replace it. I’m sorry,” Y/n explained.

Her mother sighed on the other end. “Fuck, thought you were bloody dead,” her mum said, and she chuckled a little.

“I know, I’m sorry, Mum. I have to go now though. I will call you later, okay?” Y/n said.

“You better darn well. My baby, call me!” Her mum insisted.

“Okay, bye-bye, Mummy. Love you, bye-bye, see you later, bye,” Y/n said before hanging up.

“Well... your parents were quite...” Jonathan tried to think of a word.

“Aggressive bunch, they are.” Y/n smiled and laughed.

Jonathan chuckled with her. It was a rare sight as of late—Y/n being genuinely happy. She set the phone down on the couch and practically jumped into his arms. He was taken aback for a moment but instinctively held her tightly.

“Thank you so much, Jonathan. You don’t know how much this really means to me...” Y/n said, her words filled with gratitude, and she kissed him on the cheek.

Jonathan felt his face heat up, a warmth spreading from the spot where her lips had touched. Y/n didn’t seem to realize the impact of her gesture, but for Jonathan, it was a moment he couldn’t easily forget.

As Y/n held him, the pain from his injuries seemed to fade into the background. In that moment, the touch of another person, especially someone like Y/n, made Jonathan feel a warmth he had long forgotten. Despite the injuries and the struggles, he couldn't bring himself to let go. It felt like an anchor in the chaos of his life.

For a while, they stayed like that, a silent understanding passing between them. The atmosphere was both fragile and comforting, and Jonathan found himself appreciating the rare companionship he had stumbled upon.

Y/n settled back onto the couch, her enthusiasm evident. "So, I'm assuming you got a couple of days off work? Can't go in looking like that," she remarked with a smirk.

Jonathan, still a little stunned, nodded as he took a seat. "I'll give my body a rest for the day, then go in tomorrow," he replied.

Y/n's smile widened. "Well! I was thinking... we could play some card games. I saw a pack in one of the boxes you got me," she suggested.

Jonathan raised an eyebrow, his voice carrying a hint of judgment, "You want to play card games?"

Y/n looked down, a mix of embarrassment and disappointment crossing her face. "We don't have to... I'm sorry."

Jonathan sighed. "Go get your cards."

Y/n lit up, her disappointment turning into excitement, and she rushed up the stairs to grab the cards. Y/n returned with the pack of cards, excitement evident in her eyes. She spread them out on the coffee table and motioned for Jonathan to join her. He hesitated for a moment before lowering himself onto the couch, sitting across from her.

As they played, the atmosphere shifted from awkward to surprisingly comfortable. Y/n's laughter echoed in the warehouse, and even Jonathan found himself smiling at her infectious joy. The card game became a welcomed distraction, a break from the unusual and challenging routine of their days.

As the game progressed, Jonathan couldn't help but appreciate the simplicity of the moment, something he had almost forgotten amidst the chaos of his life. The playful banter and shared laughter made the time pass swiftly, and for once, the warehouse felt less like a prison and more like a peculiar refuge.

In the midst of the card game, Y/n glanced at Jonathan, a genuine smile on her face. "See? It's not that bad, right?" she said, her eyes searching for a hint of agreement in his gaze.

Before Jonathan could respond, a knock echoed through the warehouse, causing both of them to freeze. 

"Go to your bed," Jonathan demanded, his eyes fixed on the door.

Y/n swiftly rose from the floor and sprinted up the stairs. Peering over the balcony from the second floor, she observed Jonathan grabbing a canister of his toxin before approaching the door cautiously.

Jonathan opened the door a crack and peered through, "Fucking hell, Nigma," he muttered, his guard dropping.

Edward pushed the door open and strolled in. "Good to see you haven't moved your safe house," he remarked.

"I see you're out of Arkham. Hope you haven't come here for revenge," Jonathan said.

"No, no, I had my fun with you already," Edward replied.

He sauntered over to the couch, picked up the newspaper, and casually flipped open the crossword puzzle. As he kicked his legs up on the table, his eyes fell on the laid-out cards.

"Uh, I see you brought her back to your hideout," the Riddler commented.

Y/n took a sharp breath and hastily hid behind the balcony wall.

"Leave her alone, Nigma," Jonathan warned, heading toward his work station.

“Don’t worry your little head, Crow-boy. I have no intentions of hurting her,” Nigma said with a sinister smirk.

“Why are you here?” Jonathan asked, growing impatient.

Edward filled in the words on his puzzel, seemingly unbothered by the atmosphere. "Just thought I'd check in, see how you've been," he replied cryptically. "Word on the street is that the Scarecrow is going soft. It seems you may have some enemies that would benefit from such information."

Jonathan's eyes narrowed. "I'm not interested in your gossip, Nigma. Why are you really here?"

Edward sighed dramatically. "Fine, fine. I need a favor. A little collaboration, if you will."

"A collaboration?" Jonathan scoffed. "Why on earth would I help you?"

Edward leaned back, a sly grin on his face. "Because, dear Scarecrow, this involves our mutual friend, the Batman."

Y/n's curiosity heightened, and she quietly edged closer to the balcony railing, trying to catch every word of their conversation.

“My identity remains unknown, so the Batman's antics don't effect me much. I prefer to stay under his radar and focus on my own experiments. What do you offer in return for my help?" Jonathan asked.

Edward leaned back, a cunning grin on his face. "With your little secret out, you might find yourself in need of protection. I can offer that, among other things."

Jonathan dismissed the notion with a scoff. "I don't need your protection."

Edward, however, persisted, his eyes flickering towards the hidden Y/n. "Maybe you don't, but she does."

"..Who knows?" Jonathan mused.

"Even though I have two wings, I'm a bird that cannot fly. I often like to swim, and on ice is where I dry," The Riddler cryptically remarked.

The reference was not lost on Jonathan. "So what? I've never had issues with him," he replied.

"Maybe not, but you've had many with his new partner..." Edward smirked, his tone laden with implication.

Jonathan sighed, realizing that the Riddler was determined to make things complicated. "And who might that be?"

Edward continued his enigmatic banter, saying, “I’m something made of metal, although I am not a bell. I am something that is round, you throw in a wishing well.”

Jonathan couldn't help but roll his eyes. “He has no right to be angry; he was the one who double-crossed me,” he retorted.

Y/n chuckled softly, appreciating the unintentional pun in Jonathan's response.

“Well, either way, you need me. I’ll be back in a couple of days,” Edward declared, rising from the couch.

“Farewell, Crane. So long, Doll,” Edward added as he walked toward the door, prompting Y/n to stand from her hiding spot behind the balcony and wave him goodbye.

Y/n made her way back downstairs, eager to continue their card game, only for Jonathan to stride toward the door. "Wait, where are you going?" she asked, concern etching her voice.

"I have to go out for a bit," Jonathan replied.

Y/n quickly caught up to him, grasping his arm to stop him. "But you're hurt! And you're always out! A-and what if the Riddler's right? What if someone comes to hurt me?" Her desperation was evident in her rapid rambling.

Jonathan looked back at her, attempting to reason, "I'm doing this for your benefit."

"But I don't want you to leave me, I'm lonely here," Y/n admitted, her vulnerability laid bare.

"I can get you a cat if you'd like," Jonathan suggested, attempting to lighten the mood.

"But I want you!" Y/n insisted. "Please! I love you!" Y/n pleaded desperately, willing to say anything to keep him there.

Jonathan sighed, his gaze fixed on her. "Don't say that. I don't want you to lie to me just for me to stay," he said.

"But...I do care about you. You're my friend," Y/n insisted, genuine emotion in her words.

Jonathan looked away, deep in thought. "I'll stay with you until you go to sleep, and I'll come back in the morning," he finally agreed.

Her face lit up with a smile, and she eagerly pulled him back to the table, ready to continue their card game.

True to his word, Jonathan stayed with her for the remainder of the day. Y/n had never felt more content. When she eventually dozed off on the couch, Jonathan gently carried her to bed. Before leaving for the night, he planted a soft kiss on her forehead, a gesture that lingered in her dreams.

-

Several weeks had passed since the unexpected visit from the Riddler to Jonathan's hideout. During this time, Jonathan had altered his routine, dedicating more time to Y/n when he was at home. Y/n appreciated this change, and she noticed that he had also granted her more freedom, allowing her to contact her family whenever she pleased. Surprisingly, she hadn't made any attempts to call for help, a fact that pleased Jonathan.

Y/n had always found Jonathan attractive, even when he was her professor. In these recent weeks, she had the opportunity to appreciate him even more. Up close, he was undeniably captivating, and she grew to love his personality, which was no longer hidden behind the professional facade.

She had started inviting him to sleep in the bed with her. After the first night in which she dragged his injured body to bed, she found reasons for him to join her, making excuses to have him in bed beside her. Whether it was engaging in late-night conversations or persuading him to read to her, she wanted him close. She felt guilty about him always sleeping on the couch, so now she made sure he shared the bed with her, providing a sense of comfort for both of them.

Y/n's developing crush on Jonathan wasn’t hard to spot, at least she thought so. She found herself captivated by his presence and the more relaxed atmosphere that had settled between them. It wasn't just admiration for his looks, but an appreciation for the person he was beneath the intimidating exterior.

One evening, as they sat on the couch watching a movie, Y/n couldn't help but inch a little closer. She glanced at Jonathan, wondering if he noticed the subtle shift in dynamics. The air seemed charged with unspoken emotions, and Y/n's heart fluttered as she realized the line between friendship and something more was beginning to blur.

Jonathan perceived Y/n's sudden clinginess as genuine friendliness. He appreciated her company, it was a rare and unexpected connection, given his reclusive nature and the awkwards circumstances. Unaware of the subtle shifts in Y/n's emotions, he valued her presence as a comforting and genuine friendship, even if he desired more.

-

Y/n laid on her bed, engrossed in her book, anticipating Jonathan's return. The serenity was abruptly shattered by the rattling of the warehouse door. A surge of anxiety coursed through her veins. Puzzled, she questioned why Jonathan, who had the keys, would resort to such fumbling with the door. The disquiet intensified as frustrated yells echoed from beyond.

The situation escalated when forceful bangs reverberated, as if an unknown force sought to pry the door open. However, the reinforced fortifications, courtesy of Jonathan and Edward, stood resilient against the onslaught. The perplexing events unfolded, leaving Y/n on edge, contemplating the identity of the uninvited visitor.

Y/n's trembling hands reached for the budget phone Jonathan had provided her. She anxiously dialed his number, praying for a swift response. "Pick up, Jonathan, please," she whispered to herself.

"Y/n?" Jonathan's voice finally came through.

"Jonathan, I think someone's trying to break in," Y/n whispered urgently.

She could discern the sounds of hurried activity on Jonathan's end of the line. "You need to listen to me. I want you to go to my desk and feel underneath the second drawer for a key."

Y/n rushed down the stairs and followed Jonathan's instructions. She felt around the bottom of the drawer and found a key taped to the underside. "I've got it," Y/n said, her voice trembling with anxiety.

"Go to the bathroom, open the locked cabinet, move everything out of the way, there should be a nail, pull it up, and there is a hole. Get in the hole and stay there," Jonathan instructed urgently.

Y/n hurried to the bathroom, ignoring the persistent banging on the door. Unlocking the bathroom cabinet, she peered inside. The cardboard was filled with soaps and other bathroom clutter. She quickly moved everything to the adjacent cabinet, making it appear less suspicious than if it were scattered across the floor.

Just as he described, there was a nail. Y/n pulled it up, revealing a hole big enough for her to sit in comfortably. She crawled into the cabinet and closed the door, hesitating to sit down as the fear of claustrophobia began to creep up on her. She remained standing, caught between the safety of the hole and the reality of the cabinet.

“I-I'm in the hole," Y/n said, her voice trembling with anxiety.

"Stay there, I'm on my way. Put the phone on speaker; I want to hear everything. But keep quiet," Jonathan instructed, his voice calm but firm.

Y/n carefully put the phone on speaker, clutching it tightly as she listened to the ominous sounds of the intruder trying to force their way into the warehouse. The tension in the air was palpable, and Y/n couldn't shake the fear that gripped her.

"Inside the hole, you can pull the nail down, so it appears normal. If you hear someone getting close, that nail has to be down," Jonathan instructed, his voice carrying a sense of urgency.

Y/n nodded, even though he couldn't see her, and carefully pulled the nail back down. The idea of someone being so close was unsettling, and the weight of the situation pressed on her. She strained to hear any movement outside the bathroom, her senses heightened in the tense silence.

The sound of the door being forced open sent a shiver down her spine, stealing her breath away. Crouching down in the confined space, she closed the lid of the hole, her hands trembling. A sense of numbness enveloped her as the reality of the situation sank in. Though she knew Jonathan was still on the line, she had never felt so alone.

The intruders made their way into the warehouse, creating a racket of noise as they tossed items around the room. Y/n strained to hear their voices or catch any hint of their intentions, her anxiety intensifying with each passing moment.

Y/n could hear muffled voices and the thud of footsteps echoing through the warehouse. There was no light in the small space, leaving her in complete darkness. Every sound outside intensified her fear, making her more aware of her vulnerability in that cramped hiding spot.

The intruders' voices grew louder, but their words remained indistinct. Y/n strained to understand their motives, her mind racing with the possibilities of who they might be and why they were there. The uncertainty weighed heavily on her, intensifying the claustrophobia of the hidden space.

As the minutes passed like hours, Y/n's senses heightened. She could feel the tension in the air, her breaths becoming shallower. The sounds of the intruders searching the warehouse became more methodical, as if they were getting closer to her hiding spot. Every creak and shuffle outside amplified her anxiety.

Y/n heard the bathroom door swing open, and her body froze in place. The slightest movement could betray her presence. She trembled, her breaths syncing with the rhythm of her fear. While the likelihood of being discovered seemed remote, the possibility lingered..

Unexpectedly, the atmosphere outside the hiding spot erupted with terrified screams. "Get it off me!" someone shouted in agony. Y/n's heart pounded as the cacophony of panic unfolded around her. It dawned on her—Jonathan had devised a defense mechanism, likely dispersing fear gas to deter the intruders.

A mix of relief and dread filled her. The fear gas was a double-edged sword; it protected her but also induced intense anxiety in those outside the hole. Y/n instinctively covered her nose, mindful of the invisible tendrils of the gas that might seep into her hiding place. The muffled cries and chaos persisted, a testament to the effectiveness of Jonathan's unconventional security measures.

The screams outside the hole intensified, echoing through the warehouse. Y/n could hear the desperate cries for relief from the invisible grip of fear. The muffled chaos hinted at the effectiveness of Jonathan's defense mechanism — the fear gas.

Huddled in the cramped space, Y/n realized the gravity of the situation. Jonathan had strategically prepared for such a threat, deploying a countermeasure to incapacitate anyone who posed a danger. The fear gas, notorious for inducing hallucinations and terror, had effectively turned the tables.

As she covered her nose, Y/n couldn't help but feel a strange mixture of relief and anxiety. The screams continued, and she could only imagine the surreal scenes unfolding just beyond her concealed refuge. The unsettling knowledge that the gas was both a safeguard and a reminder of Jonathan's darker capabilities lingered in her mind.

Through the phone, Jonathan's voice reassured her, "It's okay, Y/n. They won't harm you. Stay in the hole until I tell you it's safe."

The minutes stretched as Y/n waited anxiously, her senses heightened by the confined space and the lingering scent of the fear gas. The aftermath echoed through the warehouse as the intruders succumbed to the fear gas, collapsing in a collective unconsciousness. The once chaotic atmosphere now transitioned into an eerie stillness, broken only by the measured steps of someone approaching the bathroom. Y/n's senses heightened, detecting a calm and deliberate presence nearing her hiding place.

The cabinet door swung open, and a knock resonated from above. "Y/n, it's me. You're safe," it was Jonathan, his familiar voice cutting through the residual tension. Y/n exhaled a breath she hadn't realized she was holding and pushed the cabinet lid open.

Greeted by Jonathan in his Scarecrow mask, Y/n wasted no time. She pulled him into a tight embrace, her racing heartbeat finally slowing as she clung to him. Panting, tears welled in her eyes, a mixture of relief and lingering fear finding an outlet.

Jonathan reciprocated the hug, pulling her out of the cramped hiding spot. He placed a gas mask over her face, ensuring she wouldn't inhale any lingering fear gas. Despite the lingering tension in the air, the embrace provided a momentary sanctuary, a shared understanding of the vulnerability they had just faced together.

"We have to go; it's not safe here for a while," Jonathan declared, urging her to stand.

"W-where?" Y/n inquired, uncertainty lacing her voice.

"Nigma's finding a place. I'm taking you to my old apartment," Jonathan explained as he guided her out of the bathroom. They made their way to her bedroom, ascending the stairs amid the scattered and unconscious intruders. The once orderly space now lay in chaos.

"Bring what you need for tonight, we'll grab the rest later," Jonathan instructed, a sense of urgency in his voice.

Y/n gathered her essentials - a pillow and her stuffed toy. As she waited by the stairs, Jonathan navigated through the disarray, picking up her current book, which had been tossed around in the commotion.

He led her out of the building, rushing through the chaos, and they reached his car. Jonathan removed his mask before driving away. It was Y/n's first glimpse outside of the warehouse, revealing a container storage area with various warehouses. Beyond the containers, the vast expanse of the sea unfolded before them.

She couldn't fathom the fact that she was leaving. Surprisingly, she found herself reluctant to part with the warehouse, but more significantly, with Jonathan. Despite growing attached to the peculiar space, she was strangely content leaving it behind, especially since Jonathan was accompanying her.

As they drove through the Narrows, they eventually arrived at an apartment complex. To her surprise, it didn't mirror the bad state of the rest of the Narrows, instead, it appeared relatively normal. Jonathan swiftly went to her side of the car, opening the door and assisting her out.

He guided her inside the building, avoiding the gaze of the occasional passerby. Navigating through the hallways, he led her to his apartment. Upon opening the door, the interior seemed scarcely lived in, giving off an air of minimalism. She could clearly see where his couch used to be and the tv that he moved to his hideout.

"When were you here last?" Y/n inquired, taking notice of the visible dust settling in the room.

"A couple of weeks ago," Jonathan replied.

Jonathan hesitated for a moment, clearly uncomfortable with the idea of having someone in his personal space. Nevertheless, he decided to let her be there because there was no where else he could keep her safe. He took her to what seemed to be his bedroom, also with the noticeable layer of dust laying across everything.

As Y/n placed her pillow on the bed and climbed on with her toy, Jonathan followed suit, pulling back the covers and helping her get tucked in. Just as he was about to move away, Y/n clung to his hand, “Where are ou going?”

"You don’t need to worry, Y/n. I’m not going to leave you, not tonight," he reassured her as he walked to the other side of the bed, joining her under the covers.

Y/n moved closer to him as he settled into the bed, laying her head on his side. He wrapped his arm around her, holding her tightly. 

"Go to sleep, Y/n," Jonathan whispered.

Y/n closed her eyes, holding both her toy and Jonathan tightly. The rhythmic sound of their combined breaths created a soothing melody, gradually lulling her into a peaceful slumber.

-

Waking up in this unfamiliar environment felt peculiar for Y/n. The cacophony of the Narrows served as her alarm clock, and as she opened her eyes, she found Jonathan still beside her, seemingly unchanged from the night before.

"Jonathan?" Y/n spoke.

"Did you sleep fine?" Jonathan inquired.

"Yeah... I'm fine, I think," Y/n replied.

"I want to talk to you about something," Jonathan stated.

"Mhmm?" Y/n hummed, intrigued by what he had to say.

Jonathan turned to face her, his eyes filled with a mix of emotions. "I've been thinking, and... I believe it's time to discuss your future, Y/n."

Y/n shifted slightly, intrigued yet unsure of where the conversation would lead. "What do you mean, Jonathan?"

He took a deep breath before continuing, "it’s been long enough, I think you can go now…” Jonathan said.

“W-what?” Y/n could barely speak.

“I trust you won’t say anything that will ruin the reputation I’ve built for myself, so I think you can go back to... whatever you were doing before,” Jonathan said.

“But I don’t want to leave you,” Y/n replied, her eyes welling with tears.

“Y/n, it’s not healthy for you to be locked up with me,” Jonathan tried to explain.

“Oh, fuck off! You didn’t give a damn when you took me in the first place!” Y/n yelled.

“Y/n, please... I don’t want you to be fucked up like this,” Jonathan said, looking away, his face hardened.

“That’s not fair! You should have thought about that before!” Y/n yelled, standing up from the bed and stomping her foot on the ground.

“I took you for selfish reasons, I will admit that, but you were never meant to be with me forever,” Jonathan said.

“Then why can’t I stay for selfish reasons?” Y/n asked.

“And why would you want to stay with me, hmm? I’m your professor who’s obsessed with you! I’m the one who kidnapped you! I’m the Scarecrow!” Jonathan yelled back, frustrated.

“Because I love you, Jonathan!” Y/n cried, tears pouring from her eyes.

Jonathan shook his head. “You can’t just say that, Y/n.”

“Yes, I can! Because it’s true!” Y/n yelled.

“But it’s not. You don’t really love me, Y/n. You’re confused,” Jonathan said, coming closer to her. He held her face in his palms as she cried.

“No, I do love you, Jonathan!” Y/n insisted.

“Y/n, I can’t keep you hidden,” Jonathan said.

“Then don’t! Just don’t leave me!” Y/n cried.

“I…I don’t know if our relationship will stay the same, Y/n. I don’t know if I can control myself,” Jonathan confessed.

“So! I don’t want it to be the same, I want more!” Y/n insisted.

“W-we’ll just see how it goes,” Jonathan said, not quite looking at her.

Y/n sighed with relief, “Thank you.”

“We will just stay here for a while…just before we find a new place to live. You’ll be allowed to leave whenever you wish, and you can do whatever you please. I won’t hold you back any longer,” Jonathan explained.

Y/n nodded, jumping back on the bed. Jonathan sighed, still wrestling with his internal struggles. He sat down on the edge of the bed, running a hand through his disheveled hair. Y/n scooted closer to him, her eyes searching his troubled expression.

“I just don’t want to hurt you, Y/n. I've done terrible things, and I can’t promise it won’t happen again,” Jonathan admitted, his voice heavy with the weight of his past actions.

“I can handle it. I want to be with you, Jonathan,” Y/n said, determination in her eyes. “We can work through it together.”

Jonathan glanced at her, his eyes revealing a mix of gratitude and concern. He remained silent for a moment before finally nodding. “Okay. We’ll take it one step at a time.”

Y/n smiled, relieved that he was willing to give their relationship a chance. They spent the rest of the day in the apartment, discussing their plans for the future and enjoying each other’s company without the confines of the apartment.

-

Edward had found a new hideout a week later, nestled further on the outskirts of Gotham, which bore a semblance to the warehouse they had left behind. Jonathan meticulously arranged the space to mimic the comfort of a home while maintaining the necessary elements for his work. The dimly lit room now had a certain warmth, thanks to a few strategically placed lamps, and the air carried a faint scent of a vanilla-scented candle that Y/n insisted on bringing.

As Y/n explored the room, she noticed familiar items from their previous hideout, each carefully placed to recreate the atmosphere they had grown accustomed to. The bed, although a bit sturdier, still held the same comforting aura. The bookshelves were adorned with a mix of academic literature and some novels Y/n had enjoyed.

Jonathan, usually reserved and focused on his work, couldn't help but crack a small smile as he observed Y/n's appreciation for the effort he put into making the new hideout feel like a home.

“We should be safe here for a while,” Jonathan commented, glancing around the room. “Hopefully, no unexpected guests this time.”

Y/n chuckled, “Fingers crossed. But if they do show up, we can handle it together.”

The understanding between them had grown, forged through the challenges they faced together. Jonathan appreciated Y/n's resilience and her willingness to stand by him, despite the risks involved. As they settled into their new hideout, the sense of companionship and shared purpose became the foundation of their unconventional relationship.

Y/n embraced the newfound freedom to live her life as she did before, with the added company of Jonathan. The bed, once solely hers, now became a shared space where they both found comfort and solace. The boundaries between their personal spaces blurred, and the room echoed with a shared sense of belonging.

In the soft glow of the lamplight, Y/n curled up on the bed with a book, the rhythmic turning of pages accompanying the occasional sound of Jonathan working on his experiments. It was a harmonious coexistence, where the solitude of their individual lives melded seamlessly with the shared moments in their hideout.

As Y/n glanced over at Jonathan, she couldn't help but marvel at how their lives had intertwined, creating a tapestry of shared experiences. The room, once a sterile workspace, now bore the imprints of their cohabitation—a testament to the unconventional but genuine connection they had formed.

She brushed aside the notion that their relationship had a fucked up start, cherishing the imperfections that had paved the way for something beautiful. In her eyes, the unorthodox beginning only added depth to the intricate tapestry of their connection. Despite its unconventional nature, their relationship had blossomed into a perfect blend of shared moments, understanding, and genuine affection.

-

A/N: The ending was a bit boring, I will admit, but I couldn't think of how else to end it. But I did enjoy writing a little part two for this one so here it is! Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it and feel free to request! 💚

[rainbow-rey]

Shameless - chap. 3

Sukuna x Reader - MDNI!!

Summary: You didn't expect to end up under that guy you met on your weekend getaway, but you're glad you did.

Tags: reader-insert, pov second person, p in v, creamp/e, size k/nk, multiple org/sms, bl/wjobs, semi-public s/x

Part 3 of a series - Full thing posted on ao3 as a longfic

Since that Saturday, you and Sukuna have talked daily. You’re with each other constantly, and you eat dinner together every day of the week. You’ve even moved most of your belongings to his apartment. You have your own drawer in his dresser, a toothbrush and towel, and a side of the bed. You’re essentially dating, without the label. 

Of course, you’ve also been rather active—mostly cardio. In bed. Or on the couch, or the kitchen counter, or the shower, or the floor, or that one time he gave you a creampie in your closet (your skirt rode up while you reached for a hanger). In summary, the two of you have hardly spent three hours apart from each other. 

But he’s going back home for five days—which is basically three hours. Times 40. 

“It’s not that bad. You’ll be back by Tuesday, right?” Weirdly enough, you’ve been the one trying to console him, instead of the other way around. 

“I’m missing three lectures. And I have an exam the week after. Why does it have to be these exact dates? Why couldn’t Choso get married, like, next month?” Sukuna paces in front of you. 

“Why don’t you just go home and enjoy a break with your family? You can get notes from the note takers. And when you get back, I’ll help you study for your exam.”

“Thanks. I guess I don’t have a choice, anyways—what kind of nerd skips his cousin’s wedding for a test? Not me. Cho’s been there for me forever, I can’t abandon him.”

“See? It’s okay. It’ll be okay. Be there for Choso, and I’ll be here when you come home.”

Sukuna stops pacing to grab you in a hug, placing a peck on your lips. “‘M gonna miss you the most, y’know.”

“I’ll miss you too, ‘Kuna.” 

He smirks. “Since I’ll be gone for so long, we gotta make the most of our time now, eh?” You yelp as he picks you up in a bridal carry and walks you over to his bedroom. 

He does indeed make the most of your time together. In the week you have before he leaves, you learn each other’s bodies better than your own. He teaches you how to swirl your tongue just the way he likes, and you tell him how to suck your clit in a way that has you coming in seconds. 

And if it weren’t for your adamant birth control usage, you’d probably be pregnant with quadruplets. You’ve spent more time stuffed with his cum than without. Sukuna uses you as his favourite little fuck toy, and you eat it up every time. Especially since he’s got you coming at least twice per session. 

You also got to know the man himself. You and Sukuna talk for hours, about anything and everything. You know his favourite colour, how he broke his arm for the first time, why his hair is pink, and pretty much everything else about him. The more he tells you, the more you fall for him. 

That’s what makes Tuesday so hard. 

You manage the early-morning drive to the airport, the kiss goodbye before he leaves, and—miraculously—the silent drive home. But when you enter your apartment alone for the first time in weeks, it hits. 

Everything is just so empty. Too empty. Nobody humming, or cooking, or sneaking up behind you to kiss your neck. 

You drop your bag on the counter and go to your (his) bedroom. You lie on his side of the bed for a change, and discover that it not only smells like him, but has a Sukuna-shaped indent from him sleeping the exact same way every night. You let yourself drown in his essence, using it as a—albeit weird—coping mechanism. 

You end up falling asleep, waking up groggy at around 12 p.m. Remembering you have a 1:00 lecture, you haul yourself out of your nest and freshen up in the bathroom. You try to forget about the time he gave you backshots against this sink. 

You eventually fall into a sort of rhythm on your own. Wake up, think about Sukuna, eat, study, think about Sukuna, eat, sleep, dream about Sukuna, repeat. It works pretty well, because the days seem to pass with ease. A bored, burnt-out, lonely ease, of course. 

Speaking of loneliness, your nights are now filled with failed attempts at making yourself come. The only thing that seems to even turn you on is picturing Sukuna between your legs, but only the real thing will finish the job. 

Finally, after those five long days, your favourite pink-haired powerlifter is back. You’re buzzing with excitement on your drive to the airport, ecstatic to finally see him again. You get out of your car and wait near his exit, holding a small bouquet of flowers and a box of cookies as your welcome home gift for him. 

When he sees you, his eyes light up. He comes bounding towards you like the golden retriever he secretly is. 

“I missed you, baby,” he says, enveloping you in a hug. 

“I missed you too, ‘Kuna. How was the wedding? Oh, and these are for you.” You hand him the cookies and flowers, taking his suitcase in exchange. 

“Shit, you didn’t have to do this for me. This is really nice, thank you.” He hugs you again and presses a kiss to your forehead. “And the wedding was amazing. Cho and Yuki love each other a lot—it was really nice to see them together.” 

“That’s great. I love weddings, they’re so fun.” The two of you begin walking to the car. 

“I agree. Next time, we’ll go together.” That makes you blush slightly. 

“Who do you think is gonna get married next? My money’s on Sho and Utahime.”

“They’re not even dating, though?” Sukuna looks confused as he gets into the passenger seat.

“You haven’t seen them together, dude. They might as well already be married. Plus, Shoko and her last girlfriend went from complete strangers to roommates in two weeks. Imagine how it could be if they just confessed! They’d be married within four hours.”

“Wait, but doesn’t Iori live in Minnesota?”

“Utahime’s ex lived in Canada. Literally their only issue is that they’re both too chicken to say anything.” 

“Interesting. I would have probably said Satoru and Suguru, but I change my answer now. Ieiri and Iori for the win.”

The two of you continue to catch up on the car ride home. Once you get inside the apartment, you expect Sukuna to take a nap or some time for himself, but instead, he leaves everything on the counter and grabs you by the wrist. He drags you to the bedroom, lying you on the bed. 

“I wasn’t lying when I said I missed you,” he says, undoing his belt. “I missed every part of you.” 

“I missed you too, ‘Kuna. I couldn’t come without you. I was so lonely.” 

“My cock was lonely, too. He’s rock hard already—because of you. Could barely survive without this pretty pussy.” He sheds his pants, shifting his attention to yours. He slips the waistband of your sweats and panties down to your ankles, pulling them off completely and discarding them in a pile on the floor. 

Sukuna grips his pulsing length, stroking it as he lines it up with your gushing cunt. He paints the precum leaking from his tip all over your vulva, rubbing over your clit. Finally, he pushes into you, his pelvis connecting with yours to fully sheath himself inside you. You feel him everywhere, and you wonder if you’ll ever get used to the stretch. The fullness drives you mad—you can feel every vein, every slight movement. 

“O-oh…” you whimper as he slowly pulls out of you. You let out a cry as he slams back in, filling you up once more. He slowly finds a rhythm, thrusting into you over and over again. Your pussy’s sounds echo through the room, a chorus of squelches as Sukuna continues his assault. 

“Fuck, I love your tight little cunt. You’re such a good girl for me, taking this dick so well.” He punctuates his statement with a slap to your ass, forcing a moan past your lips. 

“Aah!” you cry out as he relentlessly fucks into your wet pussy. “S-so full! So good, Daddy!”

The name slipped out, but Sukuna seems to like it. 

“Daddy, huh?” He smirks. He slaps your ass again, pulling out almost all the way. He shoves it in all the way, letting his balls smack against your ass loudly. You let out a series of loud moans as he thrusts harder and deeper than before, undoubtedly bruising your inner walls. You’ll be lucky if you can walk tomorrow. 

“F-fuck, Daddy, ‘m gonna cum-! Hnngh!”

Sukuna remains at a heavenly pace, sending you over the edge. You convulse around his dick, which is still pumping into you. He doesn’t stop fucking you yet, though, and your sensitive pussy aches as he fucks into you. You’re on the verge of tears, moans uncontrollably spilling out of your mouth, until he comes as well, filling your hole with his hot seed. 

He collapses on top of you, both of you panting as you come down from your highs. 

“So… I’m Daddy now?” He smirks. 

You smack his arm. “Shut up.” 

Sukuna’s exam has been weighing on his conscience. He asked you to help him study (motivate him, if you will), which is why you’re currently on your knees at the kitchen counter, rewarding him for getting perfect on his practice test. 

“Fuck, babe, you’re so good… J-just like that…” he forces out, hips jerking. 

You wrap your hands around his length. He’s so thick that you can’t wrap your fingers around him. You stroke him, spitting on his swollen tip. You smear the saliva and precum with your thumb, loving the way he whines. 

“N-need it, princess, need-need your mouth…” His face is scrunched up and beautiful. 

“As you wish, Daddy.” He likes that—you can tell by the way his cock twitches in your grasp. 

You flatten your tongue and lick the underside of his dick, ending on his slit. You flick your tongue on it, savouring the salty fluids leaking from it. Finally, you close your lips around his cockhead, sucking softly. He lets out a loud cry, sliding a hand into your hair to help guide you. 

“Oh, f-fucking hell,” he groans as one of your hands massages the protruding veins near his base. The other hand goes to his balls, squeezing the sack gently. 

You decide to stop teasing him, dropping both your hands. He lets out a cry at the loss of the sensation, but you’ve got something even better for him. You hollow your cheeks and begin to take his length in your mouth. He tightens his grip at your scalp as you swallow his cock, inch by inch. You eventually have to stop when he hits the back of your throat, but you come back up for air and continue to bob up and down on his dick. 

You slurp him up, gagging when he fills your mouth all the way. Your clit aches, but you know he’ll take care of you later. Instead, you focus on the masculine scent flooding your senses. You crave his cum, needing his sticky juices down your throat. He seems to want the same future as you, because he pulls your head as far as it goes down his cock. 

“G-gonna come, babe… Gonna come in your mouth, p-please…”

You hmm eagerly around him, opening your throat in anticipation of his seed. With one last suck, he releases, hot cum filling your mouth. You swallow, feeling it warm your insides. His dick softens in your mouth and he pulls it out with a sigh. 

“Such a good slut for me, taking me so well.” He pulls you up to your feet, kissing you gently. “I think you deserve a reward, don’t you?”

Sukuna takes his exam the next day. You know he’ll do well, but he isn’t so sure. He spends about half an hour pacing the living room before he leaves. 

“I don’t know what I’ll do if I fail this. Fuck, I’ll be done for!”

You walk up to him and grab his face. “Don’t stress, baby. You’ll do great. And even if you don’t, it’s okay. Just try your best.” You press a kiss to his lips. 

“Thanks, princess.” He deepens the kiss, pulling you closer by your waist. You can feel his cock growing against your stomach—and as much as you’d love to help him out, he doesn’t have any time. 

You break away, leaving one last peck on his forehead. “You have to go, babe. Good luck! I believe in you.”

He sighs, blowing a kiss to you as he walks out the door. 

Your phone buzzes with a text as you walk out of your 3p.m. class. It’s from Sukuna. Your chest flutters.

I got my grade back. Meet up in 15?

You agree and head to the bus stop. 

You enter the small coffee shop the two of you agreed to meet in, and spot Sukuna instantly. He waves you over, and you take a seat at his table. 

“I hear you got your results back,” you say, greeting him with a kiss. 

“Sure did. Got a 94.” He grins, and your heart flutters. 

“I’m so proud of you—you worked so hard! What should we do to celebrate?” The way Sukuna’s eyes draw to the baked goods menu, you begin to doubt if he’s on the same page as you. 

“I mean, I’m getting a cookie. I’ll even get you one. My treat.” His eyes glint and he lowers his voice. “And the bathrooms are gender neutral. The big kind, with sinks and mirrors. I checked earlier.”

“Does that mean…?”

“Yes. But after we study. And get our cookies.”

You snort. “Anything for you.”

Good god, you love smart men. Sukuna rolls up his sleeves, revealing his veiny forearms, while he explains concepts from yesterday’s lesson. You could suck his dick right here, but the other customers might mind that a little, so you restrain yourself. 

You’ve got to be drooling. You're only half listening to him; your main focus is manifesting getting backshots in the coffee shop bathroom. 

He’s definitely able to pull off kinky and vanilla sex, depending on the mood. He can really be a ‘whispering sweet nothings in your ear while he strokes your clit’ type sometimes. 

But right now, watching him flip through your textbook and explain complicated theories like they’re nothing, you want him to fuck you rough. You can see it now: Sukuna pulling your hair, slapping your ass, dirty talking you to oblivion. You need to be able to feel him everywhere, in every way. 

Finally, he’s caught on to the fact that you’ve been completely ignoring him. “You’re killing me right now, doll. Just go to the bathroom already, I’ll join you in a minute.”

You smile and lean forward to give him a quick peck on the lips before scurrying off to the nearest stall. Sure enough, it’s private, with a proper door and lock. You leave it unlocked for now and text Sukuna.

i’m in the room on the left. it’s unlocked, come find me. 

Just before you hit send, you get an idea. You pull up your top, unveiling your bra, and open your camera. You snap a picture of your tits and attach it to the message. Pressing send, you fix your shirt and watch as it goes from Delivered to Seen.

Sukuna enters your bathroom and locks the door behind him. He immediately walks over to you and pushes you against the wall, encasing your lips with a passionate kiss. He bites your lower lip, his hands roaming all over your body. You moan into his mouth when he finds your ass and squeezes it. 

He uses the hands on you to push your body into his, letting you feel the growing erection in his pants. Your stomach flips and you start to get dizzy with anticipation—you thought he was fully hard, but it keeps growing. 

“How do you want it, doll?” he asks, hands now coming up to your waist. “Should I be gentle with you?”

“God, no. I want it insane. Choke me, slap me, pull my hair, everything. Hard and fast.”

The look on Sukuna’s face is nothing short of elated. He starts with another kiss, sucking on your tongue while he gropes your ass firmly. He gestures for you to lift your legs around his hips, and you oblige. He carries you to the counter by the sink, setting you down and breaking the kiss. He begins to undo his pants, pulling down his pants and boxers to free his (very, very big) cock. You reach out and stroke it the way he showed you, feeling the veins that wrap around his girth.

“Come here, I need to get you ready.” He scoots you closer towards the edge of the counter and brings his lips to yours. The kiss is needy and desperate, and you feel like you just can’t get enough. Sukuna’s hands travel to your breasts and he squeezes them, eliciting a moan from you. 

Eventually, he pulls you off the counter and gets you to stand in front of him, facing the mirror. He unbuttons and slides down your pants and panties, pooling them at your ankles. His dick is still out and throbbing, and it pushes into your ass. Sukuna licks two of his fingers and brings them down to your cunt, circling your clit lightly before penetrating your wetness. 

“So fuckin’ wet for me, baby,” he murmurs. His fingers stretch your cunt slightly. He starts to massage his fingers inside you while his palm grinds against your clit, the extra stimulation driving you crazy. His lips suction onto your neck while he massages his fingers into your pussy. 

Just as it starts to feel amazing, he pulls his hand out, stopping to suck on his third finger. He inserts all three into you, stretching your hole so deliciously. He strokes your g-spot so easily, the stretch and the stimulation driving you wild. 

Finally, Sukuna deems you ready. He retracts his hand and forces his fingers into your mouth, encouraging you to suck your juices off him. Once you’ve licked his hand clean, he bends you over and lines his member up against your slippery folds. He swipes his tip along your puffy cunt, collecting your fluids to make the intrusion smoother. 

He gives one big thrust to get his length in and you let out a loud cry. You grab hold of the sink to steady yourself. “Fuck,” you moan. “I’m so-agh!-so fucking full… hmmfh..” The stretch makes you go insane—he’s just so big. You watch your face contort with pleasure in the mirror. “Hngh…”

“So tight, doll. You’re such a good little slut for me.” He punctuates his statement with a smack! to your ass. You clench around his length when he does, and he chuckles. “You like that, mm? You want more?” 

You start to nod, but he pulls out and slams right back into your swollen cunt, balls smacking your clit. “Ah! Fuck, don’t stop!” 

He thrusts into you hard, smacking your ass once more when you moan. He reaches a hand into your hair, grabbing a chunk by your roots. He tugs, and you whimper. He rewards you with another deep thrust, this time continuing with a new rhythm. He doesn’t let go of your hair, instead pulling even more. Your mouth remains open and you release fucked-out little cries with each thrust. 

“Ah-ah-ah! K-keep going, ahh-!” You’ve never felt pleasure so intense before. His cock is reaching parts of you that you didn’t know existed, bruising your insides in a way you’ll always miss. He slaps your ass again and you cry out once more. “Fuck! N-need more, daddy, hngh!” 

He pulls out almost completely, leaving just the tip. He pulls your hair back so you’re looking at yourselves in the mirror. You watch as he stares at your sex faces, smiling as you whimper impatiently. He keeps his grip steady as he shoves himself back in, sheathing himself fully in your abused pussy. “Cum for me. Be a good little slut for Daddy.”

“Mh..! O-oh, oh, I’m coming! Hnngh, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum! Fuck, Daddy, ah!” You’re almost screaming as you cum around Sukuna’s fat cock. You clench around him, milking his cock as he pumps his seed into you.

“Fuck, that was good. You take my dick so well, doll.” He sighs, pulling out of you. His cum spills out of your cunt, dribbling down your leg, and he uses his thick finger to scoop some of it up. He shoves it back in, stuffing you full with his spend. He gives you the fingers he used, gesturing for you to suck them clean. You oblige, savouring the salty taste of his cum lingering on your tongue. 

“That was amazing.” You get on your tippy-toes and kiss him. Then, you turn around and pull your pants back up. Your ass is a little sore from all the spanking, but you don’t regret it. 

“Hey, babe.” You turn around from fixing your clothes in the mirror to see Sukuna blushing. His face matches his hair, and it’s adorable. 

“What’s up?”

“I realized I never asked you to be my girlfriend. Like, officially.”

Your heart starts pounding. “Yeah, I guess we never talked about that.”

“I think it’s kinda weird for me to be asking you right after sex, but I’ve been thinking about it for a while. I really like you. I haven’t been seeing anyone else, obviously, and I don’t want that to change. So, will you be my girlfriend?”

Your grin has to be spreading across your whole face. “I’d love to be your girlfriend.”

Sukuna’s shoulders relax, and he smiles. He pulls you in for a kiss, your lips meeting softly. His body melts into yours, caressing you gently. 

You’re not sure if you could be happier. 

[liskantope]

My brief, vague, scattered review of Almost Nowhere

Welp, I finished it, all 1079 pages of it. (Really 1077 pages with the first and last essentially acting as a front and back cover.) As the book is of an unwieldy length and I don't have much time or brainpower at the moment, this post is going to comment on just some aspects of it. Also, as I never managed to gain anything close to mastery of exactly how the plot worked, most of this is going to be vague and avoid discussions of the plot events, character decisions or traits, or anything that specific really. I think a couple of people wrote spoilery reviews; I don't feel very capable of this (nor of giving a very good description of the novel to someone else at a level of concreteness that they would reasonable expect.)

So, I would say no concrete spoilers to follow, and only a couple of quite vague ones.

I noted this in other posts written while I was in the midst of the novel, but I have to say it again because it's one of the most pertinent parts of my experience reading this: Almost Nowhere is the most cerebral fiction-writing I've ever read (with the possible exception of the few chapters of Harry Potter and the Methods of Rationality that I've read), on just about every level including narrative style, plot mechanics, and the ideas and themes explored -- there are even occasional fictional-scientific lectures inserted from time to time (which I found quite enjoyable actually)! More generally, the writing just screams of sheer IQ points both on the part of the author and on the part of the expected audience, in the use of a dazzling vocabulary as much as the elaborate plot and fictional-scientific situations one has to keep track of the characters being in. (It's interesting to note, though, that the cast of characters is actually quite modest, perhaps the fewest I've ever seen for a novel of this size: the complexity of the plot doesn't arise from a complexity of relationships among characters but from a distorted timeline and an array of alternate-reality situations.)

For this reason, I can't help but continue to compare this work to what I've read of Eliezer Yudkowsky, who similarly exudes sheer IQ and writes with an unabashedly cerebral style. Rob (the author, Tumblr-user Nostalgebraist) may not care much for the comparison, since as far as I know he doesn't align himself with Yudkowsky's rationalist movement or consider himself particularly in sympathy with Yudkowsky's worldview. But, while I have very little experience with Yudkowsky's fiction-writing (the main thing I've read of his is the Sequences), my impression is that their fiction is extremely different, that Yudkowsky's fiction comes across as just a transparent "mouthpiece" for his rationalist views and ideas, and that Yudkowsky has far less talent for fictional narrative. HPMoR (or what I've read of it) gives me an interesting plot and characters and makes me think about rationalist-y ideas in a direct, easy-to-follow way. Truly emotional non-cerebralness is actually pretty frequent in HPMoR but conveyed in a way I recall finding rather awkward. Almost Nowhere, on the other hand, took me on a vast, sweeping journey, where an even greater proportion of the scenes carry a colder, more dispassionately intellectual ambience, where moments of raw emotional intimacy are rather few and far between but are far better written when they do occur.

I think this is ultimately why I stuck with Almost Nowhere despite struggling to follow many aspects of the plot (while I lost too much motivation only a dozen or so chapters into HPMoR): I felt like I was being taken somewhere and was able to enjoy where it was taking me. The whole novel felt like a slightly surreal dream and an escape to a far vaster space than the one I inhabit in real life. Perhaps the feeling of being in a dream enabled my brain not to particularly care about precisely following the intricacies of the plot, as tends to be one's brain state in dreams. Of course, I shouldn't leave this as an implied "excuse" for not doing a good job of following: among the main reasons were intellectual fatigue from the general nature and business of the rest of my life, being a bit too rushed to get through the novel so that I can move to the rest of my reading list, general mental laziness, and, well, a dash of general mental ineptitude I suppose.

Specifically, what I struggled throughout to follow was some of the timeline shenanigans and that paths carved out within them by various individual characters, as well as recalling characters' experiences and motives at different times, and just generally keeping track of the scifi mechanics. I also had a tendency to glaze over some of dense dialogs that were more... I hate to keep using the word cerebral but don't know how else to characterize them... or that were more technical or jargon-filled or sounding like computer coding. Regarding the scifi mechanics, I did enjoy the occasional lengthy "lessons" delivered by characters and mostly followed their teachings but had a tendency to forget many of the finer (but still important) points later on -- for instance, Sylvie's big fictionally-written-lesson chapter at the end was really fun reading and I followed the interesting ideas going on but (even though it was near the end) did have trouble remembering everything in it pretty shortly afterwards.

The fictional-scientific mechanics themselves made for a very interesting elaborate thought experiment, and for the most part they made a lot of sense, as in, some hypothetical universe could work under these mechanics. I'm not sure that keeping vague links between different paths among alternate realities in the form of dreams or nostalgium doesn't seem like a bit of a cheat, but I'd have to think over it more deeply before deciding that, and I liked how it played in the story. I was a bit taken aback near the beginning about the role of Maryam Mirzakhani's fictional-scientific discoveries since as far as I knew Mirzakhani never worked on such things, but I much later realized that the earlier parts of the novel were written when she was still alive and young and potentially able to make discoveries of that nature in the then-future (for those who don't know, she tragically died in the late 2010's at age 40, partway through the writing of Almost Nowhere and shortly after becoming the first woman to get the Fields Medal).

As I've mentioned, the cast of distinguishable characters is very modest for such a huge novel. The characterization of each is on the subtle side, and to some extent I don't think I ever truly got to understand the deepest layers of Grant and Cordelia because I didn't put in the right amount of effort. I expect the only two which are memorable enough to stick with me for years when I look back on reading this are Azad and Sylvie. Azad was a pleasure to read and I had to enjoy the scenes where he was present or narrating -- interestingly he has one major Bad Moment around the middle of the novel in which he behaves in a certain way that earns him a ton of criticism at the time, and then after all the fuss is made it all seems to sort of get forgotten about. I don't know what I'm really supposed to think of him ultimately, but I'll miss his beautifully intellectual soul. Sylvie's scenes, in contrast, are a bit grating to read, but I suspect they're supposed to be. In a way, I know even less how I should feel about him than about Azad: his deepest biases and motives frequently seemed to exist in an occasionally-clashing tension. The bleak cacophony surrounding him is punctuated with sharp humor that I appreciate: he's a bit of dark vortex but he's also such a good boy.

The idea that we eventually get to see the characters get together and write the book that we are now reading doesn't seem original to this work of fiction, but I can't think precisely where I've seen it anywhere else, and it was fun. Rob's ability, as shown (to a milder extent) in The Northern Caves to be able to speak and write in very distinct character voices is impressive and maximally showcased here.

The novel, as Rob pointed out in one of his posts about it, comes with three distinct parts, the second of which distinguishes itself by having chapters numbered in Arabic numerals with chapter titles and is built of scenes with an entirely different flow. This second part was easily my favorite to read and felt more like surreal and placidly dreamlike escapism than any other area of the book. I don't know if anyone else has made comparisons between the fictional-novel-within-the-fiction-novel The Northern Caves (Rob's novel called The Northern Caves is the only other of his that I've read -- and liked a lot -- and its plot revolves around a bizarrely opaque thousand-plus-page novel of the same title), but I couldn't help being reminded of my conception of the fictional novel TNC throughout Almost Nowhere (also a thousand-plus-paged rather difficult novel, with surreal aspects to the narrative and layer upon layer of meaning, even if it doesn't devolve into apparent nonsense partway through). And I made this connection the most during Part 2 of Almost Nowhere, recalling that the fictional novel TNC is explained to have a sort of middle "lucid section" made of vignettes which mostly consist of coherent dialog but in which the characters have different relationships than they did at the outset (i.e. in TNC the two main characters who were siblings now appear to be married). I felt sort of drawn toward experiencing the journey that TNC would take me along, particularly the middle lucid section part just consisting of little dialog scenes, and I felt like in a way I got some version of that through Part 2 of Almost Nowhere.

(This is the most spoilery I'll get:) The final chapter of the novel ends on the point of view of the character who I had forgotten (but soon realized) was the one the very first chapter began on. It felt only fitting to go back to the first part of the first chapter and skim it, to close the loop (so to speak). I was almost never actually emotionally moved by Almost Nowhere exactly, but with the ending-looped-back-to-the-beginning it came close.

I remember when the novel was first finished this past summer, Nostalgebraist made a post discussing the finished product a bit, and I ran into one or two effortposts by other people discussing how they felt about the plot and characters. I didn't want to spoil them at the time, and I didn't want to look for them just after finishing before I wrote my own thing (this post), but I'd like to find them now and would appreciate anyone pointing me to them (I can probably find the Nostalgebraist posts easily enough).

Anyway, it's impressive work Rob, congrats on finishing such a hefty project, and thanks for giving me a unique fiction-reading experience I'll never forget!

[phacotraining]

Enhance Your Surgical Skills with Short Term Phaco Training in India

In the rapidly evolving field of ophthalmology, staying updated with the latest surgical techniques is not just a luxury—it’s a necessity. Among the most significant advances in eye surgery is phacoemulsification, a minimally invasive procedure for cataract removal. For ophthalmologists looking to gain proficiency in this modern technique without spending several months in training, short term phaco training in India presents the perfect solution.

India, known for its world-class ophthalmic care and high patient volume, has become a sought-after destination for phacoemulsification training. The availability of short term phaco training in India has enabled thousands of ophthalmologists from across the globe to enhance their skills quickly and cost-effectively. These focused programs are ideal for practitioners who want hands-on experience, expert mentorship, and real-time exposure to surgeries—all in a short span.

Why Choose Short Term Phaco Training in India?

There are several compelling reasons why professionals opt for short term phaco training in India:

1. Time-Efficient Learning

Not everyone can afford to leave their practice or take long sabbaticals. Short term phaco training in India is designed to deliver maximum learning in minimal time, usually ranging from one week to four weeks. This allows ophthalmologists to upgrade their surgical skills without major disruption to their careers.

2. Hands-On Experience

Unlike online courses or purely theoretical workshops, short term phaco training in India offers real-time, hands-on surgical experience. Trainees are allowed to observe, assist, and perform surgeries under expert supervision, which significantly boosts their confidence and competence.

3. Mentorship from Top Surgeons

India boasts some of the world’s most experienced phaco surgeons who serve as mentors in these training programs. With close supervision and personalized feedback, participants in short term phaco training in India benefit from expert guidance that accelerates their learning curve.

4. High Patient Volume

Due to the high prevalence of cataract cases, Indian training centers have no shortage of surgical opportunities. The sheer volume of cases ensures that those enrolled in short term phaco training in India get sufficient exposure to diverse and complex clinical situations.

5. Affordability and Accessibility

Compared to similar programs in the West, short term phaco training in India is highly affordable. Despite the lower cost, the quality of education, facilities, and surgical experience remains world-class, attracting both domestic and international trainees.

What to Expect from Short Term Phaco Training in India?

A well-structured short term phaco training in India typically includes the following components:

Theoretical Lectures: Covering phacodynamics, machine settings, fluidics, capsulorhexis techniques, IOL insertion, and management of complications.

Wet Lab Practice: Initial training on artificial eyes or animal eyes to build surgical dexterity and familiarize with instruments.

Observation of Live Surgeries: Learning surgical flow and complication management by watching experienced surgeons operate.

Supervised Surgeries: Trainees perform actual phaco surgeries with real patients under the close guidance of experts.

Post-Operative Review: Discussions on surgical outcomes, intraoperative decisions, and patient care management.

This practical and immersive experience is what makes short term phaco training in India so valuable and result-oriented.

Who Should Attend Short Term Phaco Training in India?

Short term phaco training in India is suitable for a variety of professionals in the field of ophthalmology:

Postgraduate Students and Residents who wish to get early exposure to modern cataract surgery.

General Ophthalmologists who want to shift from ECCE or SICS to phacoemulsification.

Doctors Practicing in Rural Areas looking to bring advanced eye care to underserved communities.

International Ophthalmologists seeking high-quality training at an affordable cost.

Whether you are a beginner or an intermediate-level surgeon, short term phaco training in India can be tailored to suit your learning needs.

Long-Term Benefits of Short Term Phaco Training in India

Completing a short term phaco training in India can significantly elevate your career. The key benefits include:

Faster Transition to Independent Practice You’ll gain the skills needed to start performing phaco surgeries on your own.

Enhanced Employability Hospitals and eye care centers are constantly looking for trained phaco surgeons.

Better Patient Outcomes Your patients will benefit from faster recoveries, fewer complications, and better vision.

Continued Learning Many institutions offer post-training support and allow trainees to return for refreshers or advanced modules.

Conclusion

The field of cataract surgery continues to evolve, and being proficient in phacoemulsification is now a must for every practicing ophthalmologist. Short term phaco training in India offers an ideal path for acquiring this critical skill quickly, affordably, and effectively. With hands-on practice, expert mentorship, and access to a large volume of surgical cases, these training programs deliver maximum value in minimal time. If you're looking to boost your surgical skills, increase your confidence in the operating room, and stay ahead in your ophthalmology career, short term phaco training in India is the opportunity you’ve been waiting for. Choose the right institution, commit to learning, and take your professional growth to the next level.

[authenticator7]

Edit PDFs on iPad: A Professional’s Guide to Seamless Document Management

In today’s mobile-first world, professionals are constantly seeking tools that allow them to stay productive on the go. Whether you're a consultant finalizing a client proposal, a legal professional reviewing case files, or an educator annotating lecture notes, the ability to edit PDFs on iPad is a game-changer.

With its large screen, Apple Pencil support, and powerful performance, the iPad is now more than just a content consumption device—it’s a full-fledged productivity machine. If you deal with PDF documents regularly, knowing how to edit PDFs on iPad efficiently will help you streamline your workflow, save time, and reduce reliance on desktop computers or printers.

Why Professionals Choose the iPad for PDF Editing

There are several reasons why professionals prefer editing PDFs on iPad rather than on other mobile devices or even desktops:

Touch and Pencil Precision: The Apple Pencil offers unmatched accuracy for signing, annotating, or drawing.

Portability: The iPad is light yet powerful, ideal for travel or remote work.

App Ecosystem: A wide range of powerful PDF editors are available through the App Store.

Cloud Connectivity: Sync with iCloud, Dropbox, Google Drive, or OneDrive for seamless file access and backup.

Multitasking Features: Split View and Slide Over allow you to edit a PDF while referencing other files or apps.

These advantages make the iPad a top choice for professionals looking to manage, annotate, and edit PDF documents effectively.

What You Can Do When You Edit PDFs on iPad

Modern PDF editors on iPad allow for a broad range of functionalities that go beyond simple reading. Here are the main editing features you can expect:

Edit existing text and images

Annotate with highlights, underlines, strikethroughs

Insert notes, shapes, and drawings

Add, delete, or rearrange pages

Fill out and sign forms

Apply stamps or watermarks

Convert PDFs to/from other formats (Word, Excel, JPG)

Use OCR (Optical Character Recognition) to edit scanned documents

Let’s now explore how to perform these tasks using some of the best tools available on the iPad.

Built-In Options: Markup via Apple Files and Notes

Apple’s iPadOS includes a native Markup tool that allows for basic PDF editing. While it’s not as advanced as third-party apps, it covers common tasks like annotating and signing.

How to Edit PDFs Using Markup on iPad:

Open the Files app and select your PDF.

Tap the pen icon in the top-right corner.

Use tools to highlight text, draw, or add signatures.

Tap Done to save changes.

This is a quick and free solution for simple annotations, especially useful when paired with the Apple Pencil.

Professional Apps to Edit PDFs on iPad

For professionals needing advanced features, several powerful third-party apps offer full PDF editing functionality. Here are the top picks:

1. PDF Expert by Readdle

Best for: Power users and document-heavy professionals

Edit existing text and images

Annotate with advanced tools

Fill out and sign forms

Merge PDFs and organize pages

Sync with major cloud services

PDF Expert is widely praised for its speed, design, and deep feature set, making it a favorite among lawyers, consultants, and business owners.

2. Adobe Acrobat Reader

Best for: Enterprise users and Adobe ecosystem fans

Edit PDFs (with Pro subscription)

Add comments, highlight, and sign

Convert PDFs to Word/Excel

Integrates with Adobe Creative Cloud

Adobe remains the gold standard for PDF tools, and its iPad version retains much of the desktop power, especially for professionals already using Adobe software.

3. GoodNotes or Notability

Best for: Educators and note-taking professionals

Though not full PDF editors, these apps are excellent for annotating PDFs—particularly lecture slides, research papers, or ebooks—using Apple Pencil.

4. Foxit PDF Editor

Best for: Secure document handling and speed

Lightweight and fast

Supports cloud sync and collaboration

Good for regulated industries like healthcare or legal

Foxit is known for its security and performance, making it ideal for businesses with sensitive data.

How to Edit PDFs on iPad Like a Pro: Step-by-Step

Let’s walk through an example workflow using PDF Expert:

Step 1: Import Your PDF

Open PDF Expert and tap “Files”

Import from Dropbox, Google Drive, iCloud, or email

Step 2: Enter Editing Mode

Tap “Edit” in the top menu

Choose text, images, or links to modify

Step 3: Make Your Edits

Tap on text to change wording or formatting

Add new paragraphs, images, or links as needed

Step 4: Annotate and Sign

Use the Apple Pencil to draw or highlight

Tap “Sign” to insert your digital signature

Step 5: Save and Export

Save changes locally or to the cloud

Share via email or export as a flattened PDF

This professional workflow can be tailored to fit industries ranging from consulting and real estate to education and healthcare.

Benefits of Editing PDFs on iPad for Professionals

Whether you're in the boardroom or on a plane, editing PDFs on iPad offers numerous business advantages:

✅ Real-Time Collaboration

Use apps with sharing features to comment and edit documents in teams.

✅ Enhanced Efficiency

Quick edits and e-signatures eliminate printing and scanning delays.

✅ Environmental Responsibility

Go paperless and reduce reliance on physical documentation.

✅ Client Readiness

Access contracts, proposals, and forms at a moment’s notice.

✅ Secure Document Handling

Many apps offer password protection, redaction tools, and secure cloud sync.

Tips for Streamlining Your PDF Workflow

To get the most out of your iPad PDF editing setup:

Use a stylus: Apple Pencil enhances annotation precision.

Organize files with folders: Use iCloud or third-party cloud services.

Automate tasks: Use iOS Shortcuts to batch rename, convert, or export PDFs.

Back up regularly: Ensure critical documents are synced to the cloud.

Use templates: Save time on contracts, proposals, and reports.

Security Considerations for Professionals

When working with confidential or sensitive information, always:

Choose PDF apps that support Face ID/Touch ID

Enable end-to-end encryption

Use password-protected PDFs

Avoid public Wi-Fi when editing or sending documents

Apps like Adobe Acrobat and Foxit provide robust security settings ideal for enterprise use.

Conclusion:

The iPad is no longer just for entertainment or browsing—it’s a productivity tool built for the modern professional. Whether you need to annotate a contract, edit a report, or sign a legal document, knowing how to edit PDFs on iPad equips you with flexibility, speed, and efficiency.

With the right app—be it PDF Expert, Adobe Acrobat, or Foxit—you can manage your documents with desktop-level control and mobile convenience. When paired with tools like the Apple Pencil and cloud storage, your iPad becomes a document editor, signer, organizer, and collaborator—all in one sleek device.

[maria-mga2024mi5014]

Sculpting a squirrel

10/02/2025

Hi everyone! Today's the 12th of February 2025 and I finally completed this assignment. I was hoping to finish everything on the 10th itself, but I was busy with some personal matters so I couldn't dedicate much time on this. But I'm so glad I took some time to work on this today because it turned out to look much better than I expected.

But I digress. In this blog post I will be mentioning the work I've done for this assignment day before yesterday (10/02/2025) and today (12/02/2025).

On the 10th, Ravindu sent us two reference images of a squirrel and instructed us to sculpt the squirrel on Z-brush during the morning class session.

To be honest, I was shocked that we had to jump right into modeling a stylized character when we just finished our previous class by sculpting a hand. But I had to do this one way or another...

Reference images of the stylized Squirrel we were told to sculpt on Z-brush: -

Work in progress for 10/02/2025: -

In the morning, I started working on modeling the head. To be honest, it was quite frustrating since it was tough to get the shape of the squirrel's head. But after making use of the standard tool and the move tool, I was able to get a shape similar to the squirrel's head.

The move tool was used to create the ears and the cheeks of the squirrel. The standard tool was most useful in terms of adding details to the squirrel's face.

I was so glad that I managed to somehow complete the squirrel's face before the break ended. But I had a long way to go with making the body.

Note: - When using the standard tool as it is, you can add more details to the sphere. If you hold shift and use the brush, you can smooth out the sphere. If you hold alt and use the brush, you can create a hollow effect on the surface of the sphere.

Here are some screenshots I took while working on the squirrel's head -

Once I got home after lectures, I continued to work on this. I made the body and the feet of the squirrel. For both these parts, I used a sphere.

For the body, I extended the sphere and created a hollow effect where the white fur was placed in the reference image.

For the feet, I flattened out the sphere and added two hollow lines. Then I played around with the move tool the change the shape of the feet to match as close to the reference as possible.

Screenshots of the squirrel's body and feet -

Work in progress for 12/02/2024: -

Today I felt some motivation in me to complete this assignment in time for the stage 1 presentations. Today I created the arms, tail, and added a few more details to the squirrel's face

For the squirrel's arms, I used one sphere to create the upper arm. For this I made use of the move tool to change the shape of the arm and used the scale tool to change the size.

For the forearm, I duplicated the upper arm and shortened it with the scale tool.

For the hand, my initial idea was to duplicate the feet and add in some changes. However, where I duplicated one foot, both got duplicated (?) I'm not too sure why that happened. However, I was lucky to find the foot shape in the 'insert' dialog box. So, I made the necessary changes and it to the forearm.

To add the other arm, I used the mirror settings properly duplicate all three parts of the arm in the right angles.

Note: - To use the mirror settings, go to Z-brush plugins > sub tool master > mirror > select between x,y and z

(I made a quick tutorial on how to mirror in Z-brush while I was working on the squirrel sculpture.)

Screenshots of the squirrel's arms -

Next up was the tail. At first, my idea was to use both a cone (because of the pointy end) and a sphere to create the look of the tail. However, where I tried to combine both the shapes, the cone looked quite odd, so I had to delete it. It was a good decision to get rid of it since I was able to use the move and standard tool to create the shape of the tail by only using the sphere.

Screenshot of the squirrel's tail -

For the last few details on the squirrel, I added its whiskers using the standard tool and created a hollow effect on its eyes to add in the pupils.

Final look of the squirrel -

Overall, I'm quite happy with the way it looks. Before I even got started on this, I thought it would be impossible for me to get this done before presentations, but I guess I proved myself wrong lol.

There were a few issues I noticed when using the software. For some reason, Z-brush would tweak at random moments. Luckily, I made sure to save all the changes.

Before I conclude this post, I would like to mention that I made a small tutorial on how to use Z-brush for my personal reference. I thought it would be a good idea to do this just in case I forgot about any of the settings in the software.

You can have a look at the video down below -

That's basically it for this post! Thank you for reading :3

[jumexju]

¿OH, QUÈ SERÀ?

Pairing !! : House / Reader

Fic Type !! : Oneshot / Fluff

CW !! : House's jokes (He's an ass), reader is latino/a (gender isn't specified), untranslated spanish is used

Summary !!: He made a bet with Wilson.. and lost.

Note !! : the house md brainrot is consuming me lol (szn 5 is making me physically ill)

✦ MASTERLIST

“You Like them!” Wilson barged into House’s office as if he had made a grand discovery. House dismissed his team and continued eating his tacos de birria, waiting for Wilson to expand on his outrageous claim of him liking a woman. “It’s been three weeks and they're still living with you, ergo: You haven't kicked them out or you haven’t told me — and the latter can’t be true because you tell me everything!” The blonde had his hands on his hips while he talked. 

“Who? _____?” House asked, feigning confusion. “They cook and they're not boring. Plus they clean- And for free too!” 

“Not for free, they need a place to live, they're probably just being courteous, House!” Wilson warned, “You’re trying to hide the fact that you care about them because then it makes you seem more human and you don’t want that because you hate when people see your nice side!” The Oncologist kept lecturing him but he wasn’t really paying any attention to it. 

“I have a nice side?” House's words dripped with sarcasm. He did, however, seem to be enjoying the birria tacos you’d made the day before. Apparently it was a big thing in latin american culture to cook as if you were feeding a whole village, so you had a lot left over. 

“Yes, you have a-! That’s why you’re letting them stay!” Wilson argued, a boyish smile on his face at the realization that his friend had a crush on a fellow colleague. 

“I’m not letting them do anything, I’m just taking advantage of their cooking and cleaning skills.” He dipped the end of the taco in the consumè you’d made, savoring the explosion of flavor that was currently happening  in his mouth. 

“You know that’s not true.” Wilson sat in front of House’s desk, facing him with the smile still present. “You L-I-K-E  them,” The blonde spelled out, “Just admit it!” 

“If I do, will you leave me and my tacos  alone?” House lifted a brow as he licked his index finger and thumb. 

“You didn’t happen to delete a message they were expecting from an apartment manager, did you? ,” Wilson questioned, a knowing look on his face. 

“... No-”

“Aha!” Wilson exclaimed, “Your hesitance indicates that you did! Jeez, just ask them out, House. It’s not that hard,” Wilson shrugged, “Unless you’re too chicken of course…” 

“You wanna bet?” House laid back in his chair, empty tupperware sitting on his desk as he smirked. 

“A hundred dollars if  you ask them out and go out on a genuine date.” Wilson said as he crossed his arms. See, he knew something that House didn’t. Around a few months ago, you confided in Wilson and told him about your feelings for House. However, when Wilson had suggested that you ask him out, you said you didn’t want to risk it, especially because you knew there was a high chance he wouldn’t reciprocate. Of course, Wilson said it was reasonable and left it alone, listening to your vents about House and whatnot whenever your attempts to bury your feelings failed. 

Unfortunately for House, You were a great actor, because not even he knew of your feelings for him. You kept it professional, or well tried to before you had to move out. You didn’t tell him the details of that, but somehow you ended up living in House’s…  house. Certain that you would say no, House replied: “If you lose, you owe me a hundred.” With that, the bet was in place and House couldn’t be more excited to get his hundred dollars tomorrow and see the defeated look on Wilson’s face when he told him that there was no date. 

With a pep in his step, House could hear the faint salsa playing before he even opened the door. His keys jingled while finding the right one but before he could insert it into the lock, you opened the door. Did you recognize the jingle of his keys? “Hey? You’re back late.” You smiled before leaving him to walk in and close the door himself. 

“Yeah it Wilson was begging me not to go, He’s clingy.” House joked. 

“You guys make the cutest couple,” You said sarcastically as you stirred the rice you were making. 

House sat on the couch and popped a pill, “I wear the pants in the relationship, just so you know.” 

“Yeah I can’t picture you wearing a skirt,” 

“I can picture you wearing a skirt,” House insinuated as he checked you out, “You’ve got a great ass for it.” 

You rolled your eyes, “You’ve gone senile, Atrevido.” You shook your head and laughed at his comments. “Has that line ever worked on anyone?” 

“Usually,” House shrugged.

“Yeah maybe back in your day,” You finished off the rice and began slicing the potatoes you’d put off to the side earlier. “Anyway, You haven’t heard any messages about  the apartments I applied at, have you? They said they’d call me back like two weeks ago and I haven’t heard anything.” 

House pursed his lips and acted clueless, “Nope, Nada.” The older man shrugged and positioned his feet on the coffee table in front of him. “What are you making?” 

“Carne con papa y arroz,” You told him. “My mom used to make it for me as a kid and I missed the taste so I’m making it. ¿Te terminaste los tacos de birria que hice ayer?” 

“Yeah.” House left out the part where he smacked Wilson’s hand for trying to steal a taco. 

“What’d you think of them?” 

“They weren’t horrible.” House, being himself of course, wouldn’t admit that he loved them. 

You smiled to yourself, knowing House, that was probably the closest you were going to get to a compliment about your food. Because the tupperware was basically clean, you could tell he actually liked them. For House, his actions usually spoke louder than his words. Once the meat finished cooking, you added the potatoes and put the lid over the pot, the only thing left to do was to wait for the potatoes to soften. With a sigh of relief, you grabbed your cup of mango-strawberry flavored wine and hummed the tune that played softly in the kitchen as you walked over to the couch to sit next to House. After a few minutes of comfortable silence, House spoke up. 

“Do you wanna go on a date?” 

You looked up from your magazine, “A date?” 

House slowly nodded, “That’s what I said, yeah.” 

You shrugged, “As long as you’re paying.” You chuckled and kept reading your magazine, you didn’t even take a moment to mull it over. House was a little surprised by your lack of hesitance, but it was overshadowed by his disappointment. 

“Wait, really?” House asked but he didn’t seem thrilled by your willingness to go on a date with him. 

“I mean, yeah?  It’s free food. It’s not like you like me or anything so why would I pass that up?” You chuckled, “Unless you actually like me, in which case, I probably look like an asshole right now.” Your eyes widened and you put your magazine down. “You don’t like me do you?” 

“No, it was a bet, which — thanks to you — I just lost.” He sighed and slouched into the couch. 

“My bad,” You laughed, “How much did you bet on me saying no?” 

“A hundred dollars.” 

You almost spit out your wine, “You were that sure I’d say no??” 

“I was, up until a moment ago.” House glanced at you as if you’d sabotaged him. 

You patted his arm trying to calm his butthurt-self, a bright smile on your face, “Sorry House, Free food is hard to pass up.” 

“Yeah, Milk the hot doctor of allllll his money, that’s your plan huh?” House looked up at the ceiling. 

“Dunno about the ‘hot’ part but everything else is accurate,” You laughed, picking up your magazine again. 

“Yeah, I’m not as hot as the burning food on the stove right now.” House stated. Your eyes widened as you hopped off the couch, setting the wine on the coffee table and running to the stove. 

“You ass! You couldn’t just  remind me like a normal person??” 

He sipped on your glass of wine as you checked if the food was burnt, “I’m far from normal, I thought you’d’ve known that by now.” House chuckled. 

“You shouldn’t drink when you’re on drugs y’know.” You snatched the cup from him as you sat back down, “You’ll end up doing some serious damage to your brain.” 

“Like I can get any worse, It’s not like I’m dying.” He turned on the TV, the  rom-com you two would watch together came on. 

“Yeah it’d suck if you died,” You finished the cup of wine. 

“Would it?” He asked as he glanced at your lips, wet from the wine. 

“Yeah. Where else would I live?” You met his eyes. 

He scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Freeloader.” 

“Hey-! I’m cooking and cleaning as payment, so not freeloading.” You nudged him with your elbow, playful smile on your face as you looked back at the TV. 

Maybe Wilson was right. Maybe he did like you. 

Just a bit though.

[maharghaideovate]

Demystifying Costs and Structure: SCDL's Export-Import Management Specialization - Your Investment in Global Trade Expertise

The world of international trade beckons, offering exciting career opportunities. But before embarking on this journey, understanding the investment involved is crucial. This blog delves into the career fees and structure of Symbiosis Centre for Distance Learning's Export-Import Management Specialization, empowering you to make an informed decision about your future in global trade.

SCDL's Investment in Your Export-Import Expertise

SCDL's Export-Import Management Specialization is designed to be accessible, offering a valuable return on investment. Here's a breakdown of the key aspects:

Fee Structure: The program follows a transparent fee structure. You can expect the program fees to be clearly outlined on SCDL's official website or brochure. These fees typically cover the cost of study materials, faculty instruction, online learning platform access, and evaluation processes.

Flexible Payment Options: SCDL recognizes that financial planning is important. They may offer flexible payment options, allowing you to spread the program cost over installments, making it easier to manage your educational investment.

Scholarship Opportunities: SCDL may offer scholarships or financial aid programs to deserving candidates. Exploring these options can potentially reduce the overall cost of the program.

Structure for Success: The Learning Journey

SCDL's program provides a structured learning experience, ensuring you gain the knowledge and skills progressively. Here's a glimpse into the program structure:

Program Duration: The duration of the Export-Import Management Specialization can vary depending on your chosen pace of study and SCDL's specific semester schedule. It typically ranges from [insert estimated duration range], offering flexibility for working professionals or individuals with busy schedules.

Course Modules: The program is divided into well-defined modules, each focusing on a specific aspect of export-import management. These modules may cover topics like customs regulations, international trade finance, logistics management, international marketing, and risk management.

Learning Materials: SCDL provides comprehensive study materials, including textbooks, online resources, and potentially even video lectures. This ensures you have the necessary resources to grasp the concepts effectively.

Assessment and Evaluation: The program incorporates various assessment methods to gauge your learning progress. This may involve assignments, quizzes, and potentially even a final project, ensuring you acquire the necessary skills and knowledge.

Beyond the Fees: The Value Proposition

While the fees are an important consideration, the true value lies in the knowledge and skills you acquire.Here's how SCDL's Export-Import Management Specialization sets you apart in the competitive world of international trade:

Future-Proof Curriculum: SCDL stays ahead of the curve by continuously revamping its curriculum. This ensures you learn the latest industry practices, from cutting-edge trade finance instruments to data-driven international marketing strategies. Imagine confidently discussing blockchain technology's impact on international trade or leveraging AI-powered market research tools – skills that will make you a standout candidate to potential employers.

Faculty with Real-World Playbooks: SCDL's faculty isn't just academically qualified; they're industry veterans with practical experience. They bring real-world case studies and industry insights directly into the classroom, giving your learning a practical edge. You'll not only grasp complex concepts but also learn how to apply them in real-world scenarios faced by import-export professionals.

Flexibility Tailored for Working Professionals: SCDL's distance learning format is a game-changer, especially for busy individuals. You can tailor your studies to your existing schedule, whether you're working full-time or managing family commitments. This unmatched flexibility allows you to pursue higher education and career advancement without disrupting your current life balance – a significant advantage for working professionals seeking to transition into the import-export field.

Building Your Global Trade Network: SCDL fosters a strong sense of community. The program might provide opportunities to connect with classmates and industry professionals through online forums or alumni events. Imagine building a network of like-minded professionals and seasoned import-export veterans. This network can be a goldmine for career development, offering valuable mentorship opportunities, exclusive job postings, and insights from experienced professionals in the field.

Conclusion: Investing in Your Future in Global Trade

The decision to pursue a career in export-import management is an investment in your future. SCDL's Export-Import Management Specialization offers a transparent fee structure, flexible payment options, and a well-structured learning experience. More importantly, it equips you with the knowledge and skills to navigate the complexities of international trade.

By carefully considering the fees, program structure, and value proposition, you can make an informed decision about your education and unlock the exciting possibilities that await in the global marketplace.

[capital123]

Exploring Logistics and Supply Chain Management Courses in Trivandrum: A Comprehensive Guide

Welcome to Trivandrum, a bustling city known for its rich culture and growing economy. As businesses expand and global trade continues to flourish, the demand for skilled professionals in logistics and supply chain management is on the rise.

1. Understanding the Importance of Logistics and Supply Chain Management:

In today's interconnected world, logistics and supply chain management play a crucial role in ensuring the seamless flow of goods and services from production to consumption. From manufacturing to retail, every industry relies on efficient logistics and supply chain practices to meet customer demands and stay competitive in the market. By enrolling in courses focused on this discipline, individuals can gain a deep understanding of the intricacies involved and develop skills that are highly sought after by employers.

2. Course Offerings in Trivandrum:

Trivandrum boasts a diverse range of institutions offering comprehensive courses in logistics and supply chain management. From diploma programs to postgraduate degrees, aspiring professionals have ample options to choose from based on their educational background and career goals. Some prominent institutions in Trivandrum offering these courses include [insert institution names].

3. Curriculum Overview:

The curriculum of logistics and supply chain management courses typically covers a wide array of topics, including transportation management, inventory control, warehouse operations, procurement, and global supply chain strategies. Students are exposed to real-world case studies, industry guest lectures, and hands-on training to develop practical skills that can be applied in various professional settings. Additionally, many courses incorporate the latest advancements in technology such as blockchain, artificial intelligence, and data analytics to stay abreast of industry trends and innovations.

4. Industry Partnerships and Internship Opportunities:

To bridge the gap between academia and industry, many institutions in Trivandrum have forged partnerships with leading companies in the logistics and supply chain sector. These collaborations provide students with valuable internship opportunities, allowing them to gain firsthand experience, build professional networks, and enhance their employability upon graduation. By immersing themselves in real-world projects and environments, students can apply theoretical concepts learned in the classroom to solve practical challenges faced by businesses.

5. Career Prospects and Growth Opportunities:

A qualification in logistics and supply chain management opens up a plethora of career opportunities across diverse sectors such as manufacturing, retail, e-commerce, healthcare, and logistics service providers. Graduates can pursue roles such as supply chain analyst, logistics coordinator, warehouse manager, procurement specialist, transportation planner, and operations manager. With the increasing complexity of global supply chains and the growing emphasis on sustainability and risk management, professionals in this field are in high demand and can expect rewarding career prospects and continuous growth opportunities.

Conclusion:

As the demand for skilled professionals in logistics and supply chain management continues to soar, Trivandrum emerges as a hub for quality education and training in this field. By enrolling in courses offered by reputed institutions in the city, aspiring individuals can acquire the knowledge, skills, and industry exposure needed to thrive in today's competitive job market. Whether you're a recent graduate looking to kickstart your career or a seasoned professional seeking to upskill, investing in logistics and supply chain management courses in Trivandrum can be a transformative step towards a successful and fulfilling career journey.

[msommers]

we're going to pretend that aphrodite deets were dropped in a timely manner and move on with our lives bc she's here now!!

tldr: rising popstar with an ego the size of a skyscraper but talent enough to back it. bad home life + horrible break-up = substance abuse struggles & trust issues. writes a lot of sensual/romantic music but has plenty of room for sad/angry love songs on the side to vent her emotions (maybe one day she’ll be grown enough for deeper self-reflection tunes).

— Aphrodite, lead singer and songwriter of Aphrodite and the Lovers. she/her, polyam bisexual, problematic fave.

— some links for fun: pinterest • character playlist • band vibes playlist • band spotify graphic set • infamous

— fun keywords: flirtatious, quick-witted, sensual, resilient, hard-working, passionate, charismatic, attractive // not-so-fun keywords: addict, stubborn, manipulative, bitter, egotistical, diva, selfish, messy, pr nightmare

— her legal name is Mildred Cartwright but she cannot fucking stand it, so she chose her own name at around age 13-14 and refused to acknowledge people unless they addressed her with her new name. only a select few people can get away with using her “real” name, even then it's usually met with an attitude (her parents always use Mildred, no matter what she says or does). Rowan is authorized to call her Millie because he holds the best friend card, but that's rare. 

— her parents live off of giving every appearance of success to those around them, which included getting the big ass house, the pets, and the kids. ended up going horribly as they quickly realized they didn't like actually raising a child + their careers required them to be traveling near constantly, leaving Aphrodite to be raised by a rotating cast of nannies until she was around 16 and deemed old enough to handle herself. they have ridiculously high standards and expectations to match, none of which Aphrodite would ever meet due to [insert essay of issues here]. never understood her desire for a musical career and so their support of it never came, though plenty of awkward mini-lectures on their disappointment and doubt of her pursuits did. they had plenty of money to provide for her in the material with a forever-stocked kitchen and a card to freely swipe on clothing/jewelry/etc, but that support never extended to her dreams of fame and music. she probably tried to make them happy by going to college for a year or less before dropping out tbh.

— has some big time attitude problems because of her home situation + lucking into making friends that often enable her diva nature since she’s so fun to be around and is a genuinely good friend underneath the PersonalityTM. due to her parents being nearly always away, Aphrodite started hosting parties at her home once the final nanny was dismissed. they grew more unhinged as the years passed, especially when she started to become a bit reliant on substances to keep good vibes up. got truly out of hand when she was around 22-23 and she went through Thee break-up with Seven and her messy ass started to spiral hardcore (the angry crazy ex that only just got talked out of keying your car and making a viral video out of it kind of hardcore). played off all of the spontaneous hook-ups, drinking, and drugs as just fun and sexy times so silly nothing to worry about, but she was absolutely miserable and showed little to no concern for her own health/safety. her friends/band-mates truly kept her from disaster during that period, and she’s eternally thankful they haven’t held it over her head. when Orion joined on as the band’s manager he took over a good portion of Aphrodite Caretaker Duty, which meant 99% of the coddling was converted into stern conversation to let her know what paths her actions could lead her down. (she’s still partying by the time botb starts and is prone to being persuaded into bad decisions but she’s managed to tone it down a little bit for his sake + the band’s future)

— Aphrodite and the Lovers formed when she was around 15-16, initially called something else but that was lost to time. the band has always written their own music but they’re also fans of performing covers on the side, enjoying the process of transforming some of their favorite songs into something that fits their vibe for a bit of extra fun. their first EP—Purely Pink, which consisted of 6 songs—was released when she was nearly 19 years old, receiving no huge numbers but being immensely satisfying as the first completed project for them all. pop band!!! with a focus on themes of love/relationships/sex/attraction, hence the name and vibes they go for to accentuate Aphrodite’s vocals which naturally lend to seductive energies. break-up songs started to get scattered throughout as a way for Aphrodite to cope with the horrible Seven split (she also had some responsibility in that but you wouldn’t be able to tell from her lyrics. brat in denial :/), as well as some others on longing for love/support/acceptance. glaringly obvious she’s letting out some feelings on trust + parental issues on one or two bops lmao. she’ll get some truly vulnerable songs down the line when she’s grown up (recognizing her wrongdoings, working to repair them, getting clean, finding true love, etc etc), but those are a bit off.

— fortunately she does have the talent to back her ego as an incredible vocalist and natural at dance (add on the waves of charm and good humor, truly insufferable how lovable she can be), but Aphrodite still has real problems with frequent displays of selfishness and believing she's the main character in every room. one day the band will snap at her about it and she'll cry but my god will it be deserved, because she's a great friend most of the time but oof when the self-importance shines,,,,that bitch be bright. used to be less noticeable when she shared the spotlight with Seven, but her ever-growing need to be the center of attention played a decent part in things going to shit with him.

— she's either going to get a lot better or a lot worse depending on which romance route she's going down :) ending the post here without further additions bc then i'd just be making the thing way too long with a bunch of small details nobody cares about

[blogasilaniya]

Denny Ja 4: Dry flowers of farewell are worth reading and observed

In the world of Indonesian literature, Denny Ja's works have been in the spotlight and warm conversation. One of his works that should be read and observed is an essay poem entitled "Dry Flower Farewell". In this article, we will explore why this essay poem is so interesting and why Denny JA 4 is a writer to note. 1. The uniqueness of the drying flower for separation "Farewell Dry Flower" essay poetry is a fictional work that describes the life journey of a main character who has a complicated family background. Denny JA succeeded in creating a strong character and arouse the emotions of the reader through a story full of intrigue and conflict. In this essay poem, Denny JA invites the reader to enter the world of the main character full of failure, disappointment, and separation. However, behind all that, there are messages of in-depth and inspirational life. Denny Ja managed to describe the emotional nuances very well through his beautiful and poetic words. 2. Enchanting Writing Style One of the advantages of Denny Ja as a writer is his charming writing style. He is able to describe every scene and character in great detail, so that the reader can feel and understand the feelings and thoughts of the characters. Denny Ja also uses simple but meaningful language, so that the writing is easy to understand but does not lose the excess literature. In the "Farewell Dry Flower" essay poem, Denny Ja also uses different storytelling techniques, such as flashbacks and monologues in the minds of the main characters. This makes the story more interesting and makes the reader connect with the story being read. 3. In -depth life message One of the reasons why the "farewell dried flower" is worth reading and observed is because the messages of life contained in it. In this essay poem, Denny Ja raised the theme of failure, separation, and disappointment, but he also inserted messages about expectations, determination, and strength in dealing with life problems. This essay poem is able to make the reader reflect and see life from a different perspective. Denny Ja succeeded in describing that every separation and failure is part of the journey of life that must be passed. He taught the reader to stay strong and try to step forward despite facing obstacles and difficulties. 4. Denny Ja 4 as a writer to note Denny Ja is a writer to be considered in the world of Indonesian literature. He has produced many works that have received appreciation and appreciation. Denny Ja succeeded in creating strong characters and stories that arouse the emotions of the reader. Aside from being a writer, Denny Ja is also known as an academic and cultural who plays an active role in developing Indonesian literature. He is often invited to give lectures and become judges in various literary competitions. Denny Ja 4 is an inspiring and influential figure in the world of Indonesian literature. Conclusion In this article, we have explored why Denny Ja 4's "Dry Farewell" essay poetry is worth reading and observing. The uniqueness of the story, the charming writing style, and the messages of in-depth life make this essay poetry as one of the literary works that should be considered. Denny Ja 4 is a writer who has the ability to attract the attention of the reader with his meaning full of meaning. Through his work, he teaches readers about failure, separation, and life with a luring granting style and a deep message. Denny Ja is a figure to be considered in the world of Indonesian literature. 

Check more: Why Denny JA 4: Dry Flower Farewell is worth reading and observed

[ech0schamber]

Hey hey hey could you write the s/o in coma scenario but with akutagawa?

sure thing!

☆you had been working on a mission that mori has sent you on. little did you know, mori knew you were going to get hurt, he doesn't exactly care if an underling get hurts

☆you were sent alone, of course, and it ended with you getting too close to an explosion (as that seems to be a reoccurring theme in bsd)

☆you got lucky as the area you were in wasn't too far from emergency services and they immediately jumped into action, so you got to the hospital before you could bleed to death

☆i would like to think that this mf never answers his phone if he doesn't recognize the number, so it was either gin, chuuya, or the bastard of a boss that told him the news

☆he managed to keep his composure in front of them?? expect if it was gin that told him, then his panic attack would be very obvious

☆he wanted to rush to the hospital, but oh look at that. he's a public criminal... he can't go anywhere near the hospital

☆so he asked gin to go in his place, of course he would only trust his little sister with that. she gets the information she needs from the doctors, but she doesn't visit you for too long. surprise surprise, she cared about you too. like a lot, so it hurt to not only see her brother in such a state of panic, but it hurt to see just how injured you got

☆that's how it went every single day. akutagawa would ask gin to go pay you a visit, hoping that you would be awake

☆during this time, he started taking care of himself less. typically that wouldn't mean much, but you had actually convinced him to start taking care of himself more. now that you weren't around to make sure he was doing that, he fell back into his old habits of just not taking care of himself

☆gin and chuuya tried their hardest to make sure that he was at least eating 2 meals a day. gin would quite literally drag her brother and basically throw him in the shower once a week

☆this poor baby had finally found a reason to take care of himself, to start seeing the good in some people, to stop putting himself in as dangerous situations as before, and now it's been ripped away from him

☆hell, dazai probably even noticed that akutagawa wasn't fighting atsushi for his approval as much

☆and queue a lot of peoples confusion when he suddenly started attacking atsushi again dont let atsushi find out why, he may accidentally use it against him during an agrument

☆it was gin who got the call that you had finally woken up after being in a coma for a year. of course, aku still couldn't visit you, so she went in the check on you... basically see if you can handle if aku decides to break into the fucking hospital to see you

☆thankfully he doesn't. but he really wants to, but he knows that you wouldn't be too pleased with him if he did that, so he exploded something to get that urge away.

☆he is probably going to get more violent in this time, he has no way of contacting you (cause they don't allow phones in the hospital) and has to depend on someone else to know if you stay awake

☆and finally, after (insert set amount time here, i have no idea how long hospitals keep you after you wake up from a coma) you were finally released. while you were mainly stuck to a wheelchair because your muscles are too weak to carry your weight, you made sure that you could at least stand with only one crutch so you would hug your boy

☆you and gin decided to make it a surprise for aku. and man, did it work. if it wasn't for the fact that you were leaning on one crutch, and the wheelchair behind you, he would have thrown himself at you

☆instead, he 'calmly' walks over to you, lays his head on your shoulder, and just starts crying. gin was nice enough to give you two some privacy, please hold this boy to the best of your abilities. he has missed you so much

☆now, if he's under the impression that you went willingly, expect him to lecture you. he listens to you though, so simply tell him that mori made you go and gave you no warnings

☆it's not like you have to worry about the people that attacked you though, they died in an... accident about two days after you were sent to the hospital :]

☆surprisingly, he is willing to help you with physical therapy! but you are going to have to explain why you are having to do each exercise. it's not that he doesn't trust the doctors, instead he is curious about how these will help you. it's a learning process for the both of you, how cute!

☆possessive. anyone even looks at you wrong now and he threatens to kill them. he will go against moris orders if it means that you are no longer going on any mission he deems dangerous.

☆i feel like he'd also freak out anytime you got hurt. if it was a small papercut, he wouldn't freak out, but you fell because you're leg gave out on you??? roshomon is now carrying you for the rest of the day.

----

i can't think of anything else :] maybe i need to rewatch the show to get a better grasp of some of the characters... oh well

[albertswitch]

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09GS61JN5

“Get yourself in position,” he barked. Her hands grabbed either side of the seat while her head hung down. His Dad approached her and inserted his fingers in the waistband of her white plain panties. With a firm tug, he took them down to her knees. She now could look between the chair slats right at her pussy. With the strap, he tapped her legs, “Move them back and spread them some more.”As she wiggled into the proper position, he began a lecture about trust and respect. He know this was unnecessary, she sure had told herself the same very words thousands of times in the last days, but she was expecting to be scolded so scold he did and ended it with the fateful words, “And for all this, you will be whipped with the strap till you won’t sit down young lady!”The next sound she heard was the CRACK of leather against her protruded bare butt.‘OMG, that stung’ she told herself but she managed to keep silent.CRACKK! The strap connected again and “OWW” escaped from her lips. A third time her Dad swung the leather and CRACKK! The strap connected with the soft flesh of her lower cheeks.“OOH, OWW!” She cried. At this point, she started ‘dancing’ alternately lifting one foot and then the other.