#“Useless fuckin' fuckers!”

[you-makestedehappy]

Line deliveries that play on repeat in my brain.

Season 1, episode 4 - Discomfort in a Married State

🐈‍⬛❤️‍🩹🍆💦🏴‍☠️ [ep 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10]

Bonus :

[kaelleid]

TIL Stede Bonnet's historical capture and eventual execution happened because his ship was in poor shape and leaking, and they had to careen it for too long.

"The last Day of July, ... [the vessel] sailed to Cape Fear River, where they staid too long for their Safety, for the Pyrate Sloop which they now new named the Royal James, proved very leaky, so that they were obliged to remain here almost two Months, to refit and repair their Vessel... till the News came to Carolina, of a Pyrate Sloop’s being there to carreen with her Prizes. Upon this Information, the Council of South-Carolina was alarmed, and apprehended they should receive another Visit from them speedily; to prevent which, Colonel William Rhet, of the same Province, waited on the Governor, and generously offered himself to go with two Sloops to attack this Pyrate...”  -- A General History of the Pyrates, Captain Charles Johnson

Izzy in the background like

[verystressedcollegestudent]

if there's one thing i hate more than slackers in group projects its goddamn hypocrites

[alien-tidays]

Im so fuckin tired of gacha white woman

[neurologicalanguish]

pathetic and sad and depressed leon thoughts cause he’s a dumb fuckin loser who should die (i would do anything he told me) erm… this is also my first post so… bare with me

cw/tw: olderbf!leon(age gap not specified), erectile dysfunction(i know, not my fault he’s a pathetic traumatised mf…), suicidal ideation, nsfw after read more, slight misogyny, porn addiction, choking kink, reader has afab anatomy, nonchalant leon…

would definitely thrash and cry in his sleep sometimes, the amount of horror and gore he’s experienced first hand wouldn’t be taken away just cause he has a pretty thing like you to love.

i feel like he’s always so detached and constantly disassociating that whenever you try to initiate something, anything at all, he just sort of does it out of inertia, just so you can get the relief you want.

he’d be rubbing lazy circles on your clit as you cling and squirm against him, as he has you all nuzzled into his chest with his arm under your head.

but that fucker is probably thinking about something else entirely, he’s just glad you haven’t gotten sick of him yet. how you still so desperately seek his love and validation.

sex doesn’t excite him anymore, sure, he needs to stick his cock in something warm and wet from time to time, but he’s fucked so much in his youth that he doesn’t even see the appeal of it anymore. not to mention the porn addiction he had…

hours on end, just spent in front of magazines, or shitty cassette tapes, that were so old and fucking beat that he’d have to fix them himself in order to not have the whore’s moans sound like they’re from within the depths of hell because the cassette would play in slow motion.

how he’d gotten so desensitised to anything that had to do with sex, that at one point he needed to start reading erotica, just to get his dick hard. he’d just sit on the shitty mattress of the floor of the apartment he was supposed to call “home” , while watching the TV playing porn, like it was some fuckin’ game show.

so it doesn’t come as a surprise, at least to him, that with the years, he doesn’t find pleasure in sex, or anything at all really.

but when he sees such a pretty thing like you, so pathetic and constantly begging him to be pounded, guilt would just wash over him, saying to himself that “it’s the least i could do for the fuckin’ world, right?”

so again, he’d have you under him, peppering wet kisses on your neck, or choking you sometimes. how he’d wish to actually snap your fragile neck at times, it didn’t help when your skin would turn slightly pale, it was almost like it was doing something for him, but he decided to ignore it.

his aging, and the shitty way he had lived up until the time you met him, and even as he’s with you, doesn’t attenuate the fact that his “stupid fuckin’ useless cock” doesn’t even wanna work anymore. he feels so pathetic and helpless. he’d rather jump off a bridge, the sound of his body weight reverberating on cold harsh concrete, as his corpse splays out in a million fuckin’ particles as it hits the ground, leaving behind just a burgundy mess of what was once your “handsome old man” , than have to explain to you that he doesn’t wanna fuck, his dick doesn’t work.

he just tries to be grateful for what he has, at least you cook good food. he’ll keep attending to your needs, eating you out, buying you toys, fiddling with your clit, he’ll keep pretending for his “pretty girl”.

[schrijverr]

How to Survive Gotham as a Goon

Late one evening, a goon is there to witness his boss – Red Hood – shoot at Robin. Which means he goes through the five stages of grief as he imagines all the ways Batman will skin them, trying to get Red Hood to stop before it’s too late, which only leaves him with more questions.

On AO3.

Ships: none

Warnings: references to violence & gun shots

~~~~

Joseph does not want to die. He especially does not want to die at the hands of Batman. It might seem unlikely that that will ever happen, even if Joseph is a henchman, however watching his boss whip out a gun to shoot at Robin, he knows it might only be a matter of time.

It’s kind of the unspoken rule of the goon and henchpeople underworld to not hurt the kid in a way that’s permanent. While the big villains don’t keep to that rule, Joseph had hoped that Red Hood, with all his rules surrounding children, would be different.

However, all that hope is snuffed out when the two of them are taking a smoke break and Hood spots the kid on a warehouse across from their own.

Joseph is immediately on guard as he goes to scan around for the Batman, despite knowing it’s quite useless. But Hood stiffens in anger and screams: “You!” as points at Robin.

The giggle Robin lets out is heard easily as it echoes across the yard. It sends shivers down Joseph’s spine. He knows Robin is just a kid, but all goons and henchpeople have learned to fear the sound of that laugh and it isn’t any less intimidating when he can see the kid giving them a jaunty wave.

Hood’s street instincts must be broken, though, because he doesn’t do any of the things you’re supposed to, instead scrambling for his gun. Joseph is so in shock that he doesn’t even stop him when the first few shots ring out.

Across from them, Robin back flips away from where he was just sat, thankfully not getting hit by any of the bullets.

Robin starts to run and Hood follows him with a spray of bullets, yeering loudly: “Yeah, fucker, ya better run! Ya better fuckin’ run! If ya ever pull tha’ shit again, I’m killin’ you. Killin’ you! Ya hear me?”

Joseph gathers his senses and against the better instinct of keeping his boss on his side, jumps Hood, pushing his gun away as he exclaims: “Are you crazy!?” while Robin disappears over the rooftops.

Hood pushes him off and Joseph lets him, though he likely couldn’t have stopped Hood even if he wanted to, the man is built like a brick house. “What’re you onnabout?” Hood frowns, like he truly doesn’t realize who he just shot at.

“You shootin’ at Robin,” Joseph exclaims. “Do you have any idea the kind of carnage ya would’ve brought down on us if ya’d hit ‘im?”

“What?” Hood asks, sounding truly confused and a little taken aback.

“Do you really not know? By your accent I would’ve sworn ya were from ‘round these parts,” Joseph replies, more confused than normal by his enigma of a boss.

“Well, I’ve been outta the loop for a bit,” Hood grouches. “Explain.”

“I mean, most of the big fish don’t keep to it, but it’s common knowledge to not hurt Robin too bad unless ya want the big Bat to rock your shit,” Joseph explains. “I was already in the henchin’ business when the little guy first hit the street. Course we were all wary of ‘im but what ya gonna do? Fight a little kid?”

Hood lets out a bitter snort, commenting: “Yeah, who’d do that.”

Joseph isn’t sure where that comes from and hesitates for a second, then cautiously goes on: “But the kid was good, better than any of us thought. Fuckin’ embarrassing tha’ was. So we started fighin’ back a little, ya know. Actually punching the kid here and there. It was Jimmy who first truly hurt the kid.”

“Wait, Vegetable Jim?” Hood asks.

“Yeah, isn’t a vegetable anymore. Sonnabitch’s damn lucky that Wayne Enterprises offers compensation for those hurt while working, including hench work,” Joseph laughs a little bashful and awkward. “He clipped the kid with a baseball bat, broke his arm. God, I never heard a kid wail like that,” Joseph grimaces at the memory. “What’s worse is that the kid called for his dad. His dad.”

“Wait, tell me more,” Hood asks, sounding gleeful now, which weirds Joseph out a little. “Like was it super pathetic? Did he really just break his arm, nothing more?”

“No, nothin’ more, just the arm,” Joseph answers carefully. “And ya know how kids can get, it was piercin’ and whinin’. Why’d ya wanna know? Poor fella did nothin’ to ya. You’re to young for that.”

“Nah, I know that, just gonna bully the shit outta him when I see him,” Hood grins and now Joseph is fully confused, because from what he’s heard their first baby Robin is now Nightwing in Blüdhaven and they’re not planning to expand that way. However, before he can ask, Hood says: “Sorry, continue.”

“Well, uhm, Batman came immediately. It was carnage, like I said,” Joseph replied. “Jimmy became a vegetable for a year and a half. Bats usually tries to give us injuries that’ll only last a few weeks max, so we all knew we’d fucked up with that.”

Hood is quiet at that and Joseph explains: “Jimmy was the first and one of the worst, but all the goons tha’ ended up in the hospital for longer than three months hurt a Robin. I think the worst might be those tha’ helped, uhm, that villain kill the second Robin. His organization’s still recoverin’ from tha’ one. Think it’s the closest the Bat ever got to killin’ a man.”

Joseph knows that Hood has some deep seated grudge and hatred for Joker, despite taking his old moniker. So, he isn’t sure how well it will land.

He holds his breath as he watches how his boss will react, hoping he isn’t about to get a bullet in the leg. With Hood you’re less likely to get one in the head, but he’s absolutely not above taking out your femur or kneecap and that also sucks.

However, Hood surprises him. Joseph has always guessed that Hood is younger than he pretends to be, but he now sounds like a lost kid as he asks: “Really?”

“Yeah, boss, the Bat don’t play around when it comes to his Robin,” Joseph answers, suddenly feeling like he’s talking to his own son, instead of his crime lord boss. “New kid’s lucky. I mean, he made Batman nicer, god was he fucked when the second one died. But Stan over at Mr. Freeze’s operation cracked a few of his ribs by accident a coupla weeks after the Bat took ‘im in, I hear he still eatin’ out of a tube now. Bat’s gotten more vicious.”

Hood doesn’t say anything and to avoid feeling awkward Joseph just keeps talking: “Heard through the grapevine tha’ the kid got attacked pretty bad at that fancy Tower they’ve got out there, if the guy who did tha’s capable of thought, it’ll surprise me.”

At that Hood shifts slightly and Joseph is surprised to see a bit of guilt in his stance. It’s not something they see often from their boss. Like everything this smoke break, Joseph has no clue how to react to it.

Fortunately, he doesn’t have to, because Hood speaks first. Softly he says: “Guess the kid’s lucky. Just hope the Bat’s nearby when he needs ‘im.”

“Yeah, suppose,” Joseph agrees. “Though he usually is. Never seem ‘im leave the kid alone, especially this one.”

“Good, I’d kill ‘im otherwise,” Hood grunts.

While it fits with Hood’s penchant for protecting kids, Joseph is still thrown off by it, since Hood was shooting at Robin earlier. So he gives him a look, before saying: “I mean, ‘s good tha’ he worries. Kid’s a sprout. Must be older than my boy with the way he talks, but by god is he skinny.” Joseph laughs. “It’s almost funny tha’ I worry for the kid.”

“Nah, worry’s good,” Hood surprisingly assures him. “Wouldn’t be the same if he weren’t jumpin’ ‘round, even if he’s a nuisance.”

“That why ya were shootin’ at ‘im?” Joseph can’t help but ask, even though he knows it’s stupid. It is just- he can’t help it. Not after this strange conversation.

“Kinda,” Hood shrugs. “Little shit needs to learn not to touch my shit. Fucker moved my furniture, I like where my furniture is.”

“He was in your home?” Joseph exclaims, because what the fuck? Why didn’t they hear about it. If the Bats are investigating them close enough to break into their boss’s home, they have a big problem. Very big.

“Yeah, fucked up my alarms too, even though he got a perfectly good key,” Hood mopes and Joseph’s brain screeches to a halt.

Almost as if he’s misheard he asks: “He got a key? Robin got a key? A key to your home?”

“Not voluntarily,” Hood sulks, seemingly not aware of how fucked up that is. “He’s a little stalker. Still. Stole it and copied it.”

“We need to change the locks,” Joseph says, getting up immediately to get going. “Who knows what they’re after. You- you need a protective detail. We need to up security.”

Next to him Hood startles, looking surprised. Then he laughs and waves him away: “Nah, nah, no worries, Joseph. No worries. The Bats ain’t after us.”

“They broke into your home,” Joseph feels the need to point out, because that’s a very important and very worrying detail.

“Just Robin. And just to move my shit and eat my leftovers, which is fuckin’ rude, he has his own chef at home, I have to cook all by myself and it isn’t like he chips in for the groceries,” Hood complains, while Joseph just stares at him, bug eyed.

After a beat, Joseph says: “Uhm, boss, I- uh, I hafta ask. How- how close are ya to the Bats, because that ain’t normal. No- uh no ‘fence.”

“Batman can go suck a dick and Robin needs to go back to school,” Hood scowls. “Kid shouldn’t be out here and I’m not talkin’ to the old man. But he’s a persistent little shit, I haven’t shaken him yet. Doesn’t look like I will.”

That answers absolutely nothing, but does tell Joseph that he doesn’t really want to know, because his brain is putting things together, but not things he wants to think about, because if he thinks about it, he might realize that his boss is a teen and he doesn’t think he can handle the mental weight of knowingly working for a teen.

So, Joseph follows another unspoken rule of the goon and henchpeople underworld and keeps his mouth shut when the boss is spewing nonsense.

He already has a kid to raise, he doesn’t want to think about raising his boss and by the sounds of it, the boss already got people looking after him. Even if they annoy him. Joseph is just going to be grateful about that and ignore the rest.

And pray each Sunday in the Church he doesn’t go to anymore that Hood is gonna keep missing the kid when he shoots. He hasn’t faced that sort of wrath from the Bat yet and he doesn’t plan on ever doing so.

Best to keep his head down and follow all the unspoken rules. Next time he’s smoking alone or with more people than just the boss. He has his blood pressure to think about.

[macsimagines]

Could I request Mikey, Mitsuya, and Hakkai reacting/dealing with their crush confiding in them about having a stalker and they realize that the stalker isn't them?

TW: YANDERE CONTENT, MINORS DNI, Physical Violence, Stalking, Manipulation and unhealthy behavior

Yandere!Mikey Sano

Doesn't consider himself a yandere or stalker so he's not really bothered by the fact that you're describing your other admirer and himself so similarly. Mikey doesn't think the rules apply to him so the fact that everything you're listing off is something he does himself won't even phase him.

You shouldn't get it twisted though, he's pissed. Its ok when he follows you home and steals your stuff, but when someone else does it it's taboo.

He's your soulmate. You belong to him. So it's only natural that he does all that for you and to you. But someone else doing it is an unforgivable transgression.

Mikey catches your Stalker stalking you when Mikey was supposed to be. He decides to take action and sneak up on the loser.

"Hey man, what are we doin'?" He'll ask causally, slinging an arm over the offender's shoulder. His demeanor might be laid back but that soulless look in his eyes just screams trouble.

A week later and you tell him that all your problems have disappeared! "It's like he vanished! Thank god I don't have a stalker anymore, right?" He'll just smile and nod. "Ya. Thank god. :)"

Yandere!Mitsuya Takashi

Oh. He knows. He knew before you did and waited to bring it to your attention. Because he wants to be your hero. He waits until your already on edge and feeling slightly suspicious before he bring it to your attention.

"Look, Y/N, I don't wanna freak you out but I think you oughta know. I saw some dude followin' you..."

He hates the fear in your eyes and the dread that dawns on you. He doesn't like you being afraid. But he loves you depending on him.

"Wha-what should I do?"

Nothing. Mitsuya takes care of it for you. He makes sure you're watching too when he confronts your stalker in front of your home.

"Hey, asshole, what the hell do you think you're doin'!?"

Mitsuya doesn't rough him up too bad. He doesn't want you to be afraid of him. But he does enough to make you feel safe. Make you know these hands are for protecting and holding you.

He's elated when you're sticking to him like glue now. You even let him stay the night when you're feeling really scared. "It's alright, Y/N. I'm not goin' anywhere."

Yandere!Hakkai Shiba

You tell him and his sister at the same time. Technically you tell Yuzuha and he just happens to be standing there like a statue while you cry in her arms

Is the only one in this group that feels a little disturbed about how much that he and your stalker have in common. In fact he hates it.

Tries to justify it in his head because it's not the same. You're the love of his life and even though you don't know it yet you two are literally made for each other. And he'll prove it too.

"I'll handle it, Y/N." He announces in front of you and Yuzuha. That might have actually have been the first time he referred to you by name.

You point out your stalker to him on your way home. "T-that's the guy. Hiding behind the corner..."

Hakkai never wanted to show you how physically violent he could be but he has to purge whatever sense of guilt and rage he feels. Maybe he can beat the disgust he feels for himself out on this guy?

"Nasty, dirty, useless fucker. Makin' Y/N feel afraid? I'll fuckin' show you." he doesn't really know if he's talking to the creep or himself at this point...

[ayeforscotland]

that last post really hit the whole uk media nail on the head. everything the media has decided was a scandal in the past fuckin 5 or so years has just been the most milquetoast useless fuckin trash that only the most Indignant Moral Outrage centrist shithead could care about.

they should be scandalised about the fact that everyone is getting sick, that most of our university graduates are leaving for better opportunities, that everyone is taking real terms pay cuts (that aren't even described as that bc /on average/ pay is 'keeping up with inflation' despite food costs skyrocketing so badly that it's not), and that nothing is being done about it anywhere, but the fuckers are so monstrously out of touch that the focus is still on whether or not boris johnson went to a party which like. yeah he did. let's move on to Everything Is Fucked, the unspoken story of the decade

I just don’t know how you can look at what’s app messages and the actual shit coming out of Westminster that’s decimating communities and decide the former is the big scandal everyone should care about.

[whoretan]

ARK 45 | 02

Summary: After what turned out to be an unsuccessful night, Jimin invites you over to his apartment where things certainly go in another direction.

WC: 3.5k

Play me while you read.

Pairing: Club Owner/Mafia!Jungkook, Hitman!Reader (ft. Jimin)

tags: um, so reader n jimin, yeah, fuckin against a window, slapping, dirty talk, murder and torture, possessive jimin???, jimin is a sadist, im sorry for what ive done, theres like 10% plot, 90% porn, reader will smash jk soon i swear

Chapters: 1 | 2 (ur here)

The screams of ache bouncing across the wooden walls are only driving your frustration further. 

You enjoy hurting people, but tonight, you have no patience for the whiny asshole Jimin left you to deal with. 

And typically, you have the patience of a fucking saint. 

About fifteen minutes after you left ARK, Jimin texted you the geo-coordinates to a random location that won’t show up on any Google searches. 

Jimin doesn’t trust anyone but you to do his dirty work. So while he gets to pounce around the city like an angel in a suit, you’re stuck dealing with the tedious and messy portion of the job. Then again, it pays well, so, there’s no room for complaining.

“I’m about three seconds away from slicing your tongue off,” you warn. “And I don’t plan on being nice about it either, John.” 

“Jesus fuckin’ christ lady,” he cries like a little bitch. “Jungkook don’t tell us which warehouse he keeps the shipments in, that’s for the upper guys.” 

 John has about five seconds left before he goes knocking on God’s door. 

“So what you’re telling me is that you’re useless?” You deduce, grabbing his chin roughly to part his saliva-covered lips. 

“No, no, no,” he pleads. “There’s someone at ARK that can get you the information you want.” 

Sweat drips down his nose, mixing with the blood riddling his face. John’s bald, somewhere in his late thirties, and a whiner. He has a wedding band on his left hand, probably some kids too, not that any of it’s your concern. 

You’d already cut off two of his fingers, stabbed his Achilles heel, and are coming close to slicing his tongue off. Normally, you like to play this thing slowly. The slower the better, the more likely the chance of getting whatever unfortunate fucker landed in your hands to spill the information you need.

John cringes away from the knife, tears bubbling out from beneath his lashes. 

“Dude name is Tony. H-he’s one of the security guards. B-big n’ tall, huge snake tattoo on his face.”

You roll your neck, groaning as the muscles pop. It’s been a long fucking day, and you’re still wearing the damned hooker dress that Jimin had dropped off for you.

“Great, thanks,” you say casually as if you haven’t spent the past hour torturing him. 

His breathing calms, and he looks up at you through his dull, ugly eyes and hope radiates from them. You almost laugh.

“So, y-you’ll let me go, right?” he asks, staring up at you like a little kid begging for a toy. 

“Sure,” you say. 

“Are you serious?” he pleads. 

“No, John,” you grin. “I’m not.”

You swing your arm back and plunge the entirety of your knife through his temple. 

He dies instantly, slumping forward against the rope that bonded him to the chair. 

You slide your knife from his skull, the noise threatening to ruin your dinner plans. This is unfortunate because you’re really fucking hungry. 

The knife squelches against the skin, taunting and unwilling to leave the flesh. And sure, while you enjoy a good torture session, you don’t get off on the sounds that accompany it.

Typically on a night like this, you’d dismember poor little John and then dump his remains into the cremator you and Jimin keep at a warehouse off the grid. 

But, not tonight. 

You weren’t even supposed to be on the clock, besides the obvious shit show that happened at ARK. 

You sigh, pulling out your phone from your bra, and cringe at the sight of blood smudging onto the screen. It’ll be a bitch to clean later, so you wipe it down on your matching red dress. 

going home. going to light a cig first.

Light a cig being code for burning down whatever building you’re in. 

Shoving the phone back into your bra, you bend down to John’s level, searching through his pockets. Dude’s like him almost always have a smoking problem, and besides, the fucker smells like it too. Mixed with his own piss that is of course. 

Your hand lands on the familiar plastic and you sigh thankfully, one less headache for you.

There’s a vibration against the shell of your tit and you straighten your back, pulling out the device again. Jimin’s name is written in bold letters atop your notification center.

good. come by my apartment.  

Something inexplicably dark arises in your chest.

 Jimin never asks you to come over. 

You suck in your bottom lip, biting back a groan. Goodbye dinner it is.

Sure, why the hell not?

A ping sounds, and the doors to Jimin’s penthouse apartment open. 

He lives fifteen or so minutes away from your own apartment, but on top of the already fifty-minute drive home from the barn— you’re not exactly thrilled by any account to be here.

He stands by the door, gaze entirely locked on yours and you can’t help but scowl. So what? It’s four in the damn morning and no human being should look this well put together at this hour. 

Jimin wears black lounge trousers, a low-cut robe with embroidered flowering, and that damned rosary he can’t seem to ever take off. 

“Come in,” he motions his head toward the inside of his apartment. 

You nod, locking in your bottom lip as you slip past your boss. A sliver of something that shouldn’t be so pleasant curls in your stomach— the smell of the deep and citrus oceanic cologne he always has on invades your senses. 

Jesus. 

The feeling is so strong and sudden that you exhale a breath to try and push it away. 

He steps into the apartment after you, and with a click, locks the door. This feels all too intimate. 

“So?” 

You blink.

“So?”

He sighs. “Jungkook.” 

Fuck. 

The chance of you admitting you performed a lap dance for Jeon Jungkook is zero. You’d cut your own tongue off before you ever admit that you might’ve slightly enjoyed it. 

You sigh. “He wasn’t in. I’m going to call the front desk tomorrow.” 

Jimin quirks a brow, and the playful tug to the corner of his lips tells you all you need to know. He doesn’t believe a single word you just said. 

You groan and turn around, making a beeline to the cloud couch he had you order last year. You sink into the white cushion and moan at the softness that envelopes your frame, it feels like heaven on Earth. Soft as hell and a hundred times better than the one in your own home.

“Where’s the dress?” Jimin appears from behind you, the hint of that smirk still remaining on his face— just the slightest curl in his lips. His eyes travel over your body, and you feel the intrusion. 

You roll your eyes. You’ve changed into a skirt and long sleeve shirt. Not your best look, but it’s better than what Jimin deemed to be a dress. “I gave it to the hooker outside.” 

He chuckles and the sofa beside you dips.

A beat passes and then Jimin says, “I’m going to have to fuck the information out of Miranda.” 

You release a heavy breath at the sudden change of atmosphere. What the fuck is going on with him tonight? 

Turning your head to face your boss, you watch his tongue travel over his bottom lip. His gaze drops to your exposed legs, and you subconsciously clench your thighs in response. 

It’s too hot in here. Way too fucking hot. You have to divert the conversation somewhere else, somewhere where he isn’t devouring your skin like it’ll be his last meal.

“Jimin, is everything okay?” 

He doesn’t break eye contact but the darkness envelops his eyes. 

“No ___, it’s not.” He looks away momentarily to sigh, then meets your gaze again. “Jungkook wants me dead, and once he finds out about you he’ll kill you too. I just found out that he’s already on Hobi’s trail and now I’m gonna have to spend almost all my time playing prince charming for his annoying fucking sister when I just really want to spend my time fucking you.” 

Your breath hitches and you have to look away from the fiery gaze. Diverge. Don’t think.

Not once in your career has Jimin made any moves on you. Hell, before tonight you hadn’t even stepped foot into his apartment. The thought of having sex with your boss had been only a mere daydream on your first night on the job, never again.

“Jimin, I don’t think that’s a good idea.“

Without hesitation, he shifts closer to you, hand touching the bare skin of your lower thigh. “Why not? I’ve had people breathing down my fucking neck every day all week. I can’t even fuck anymore because I’m too paranoid they’re a spy Jungkook’s sent on me.” 

The confession has you blinking, shell-shocked. Since when has Jimin become this paranoid about Jungkook?

His body presses against yours, sandwiching you between him and the cushion. You stifle a gasp when he leans in and the warmness of his breath courses your lobe. “He knew who you were tonight.”

Everything stills, one second Jimin’s hovering over you, warm breath tickling your skin as your stomach does laps. The next, you’re pushing him off of you, sending him hurling off of the couch and backward. He regains his composure and inches forward again, like a predator about to devour its prey. He grabs both of your wrists to prevent you from clawing his eyes out of their sockets.

Your heart pounds in your chest. Jimin sent you into ARK when Jungkook knew what you looked like?

Holy shit.

Jungkook knows what you look like. 

He knew tonight and still had you grinding on his hard cock. 

You take a deep breath, trying to calm the hurricane brewing in your chest. 

Fuck, fuck. You’re going to lose your shit and possibly strangle your boss.

“I need you to calm down,” he grits against your hold, pushing his body completely onto yours, leaving you limp in his hold. “I didn’t tell you because I wanted to see what his reaction would be.” 

You lock your gaze with his, anger dancing in all the curvatures of your face. You feel tiny and helpless encased in his hold. Even more, you’re surprised he has the strength to hold you like this, unmoving, unfaltering like it’s the easiest thing in the world. 

What if Jungkook decided to kill you?  

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” 

He leans in, warm breath caressing your lobe. “Doesn’t it excite you? That he played along with your little game, Joanna?” 

“Jimin, I’m fucking serious, I—“ 

He’s so heavy on top of you, his chest moves rapidly as he presses further into you. You feel the apples of his cheeks rise against your neck, “Did you fuck him?” 

This is too much. Too much all at once. You’re suffocating in Jimin’s scent, his breath, his voice. 

You shake your head and close your eyes. 

“You wanted to though, right?” He whispers amusingly. 

He’s enjoying this. He’s bathing in your discomfort, the way your twitching against him, withering away from his hold, pushing your neck away, he basks in it. This should be wrong, it should terrify you. 

Yet, it doesn’t. His weight feels good, it feels exhilarating to lose control for once. To be the given instead of the giver, to have your freedom stripped bare. 

So, instead of screaming you confess, “Y-yes.” 

Jimin hums, sending a wave of vibration through your neck. He licks a strip from the bottom to the shell of your lobe, “And do you want me to fuck you, too?” 

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Your mind draws a blank and the only thing that pounds through it is, yes, yes, yes. 

“Yes.” 

“What’d he tell you?” Jimin asks as he releases your wrists from his grip. You let them drop to the cushion without a fight. 

He doesn’t stand from the couch, instead, he digs his knee further into the space between your opened legs and straightens his back. When your eyes meet, his eyes are dark, low, and filled with an intimacy you’ve never seen before from him. 

“He said he doesn’t hire whores,” you sigh at the recollecting memory. The sounds of Jungkook’s laughter as he walked out of his office to call the guards fills your mind. 

It’s Jimin’s very own laughter that drags you back to the present. 

“How ironic,” He muses.

He’s terrifying like this, dominating you in every way possible as he looms above you. He undoes the piece of fabric keeping his robe pieced together and lets the sides fall. You flinch subconsciously when he raises his hand to grab your chin.

“Do you want me to fuck you like a whore, ___?” 

You catch your breath at the monster before you. It’s not the words that leave you breathless, it’s the sweet smile accompanying them. The same one he gives you when he walks into the building in the afternoon, or when he hands you a check after a mission saying you’ve done a great. It’s welcoming, friendly, and utterly fucking terrifying. 

This is a horrible idea. Slowly, you nod. 

“Good.” 

The sound comes first, then the realization. You blink repeatedly as your vision blurs, the impact so brutal it’s left you looking in the other direction. Then, the pain. Sizzling, stinging, and painfully hot. Your cheek will bruise, without a doubt. You moan. 

When you turn your head around to face Jimin his smile only grows, wider and wider. He pushes his knee further into your cunt, the friction bringing it alive.  “Again.”

This time, he hits the other cheek. 

Adrenaline courses through your veins, it pulses in every one of your nerves, and it sends your body ablaze along with it. The pain feels so fucking good. 

You want him to cut you open and eat you alive. 

Without another word, Jimin pushes his knee off of the couch, cracks his neck, and points toward the exposed windows, “Strip.” 

You oblige, following the command like a lost puppy. He backs away, giving you space as you push off of the couch and toss your clothes. Avoiding the intruding stare, you turn around and walk to where you know he wants you.  The air in his apartment is freezing, leaving you with hard nipples and goosebumps.

The windows are completely open to the world. 

Anyone in the other high rises will be able to see you. They can see you.  

The city’s beautiful, shimmering lights keep it alive in the darkness. In the reflection of the glass, you see Jimin stalking toward you as if he has all the time in the world. 

He stares at your legs, ass, and back, then he meets your gaze in the reflection. When he reaches your heel, his hands graze your stomach, and his lips meet the back of your neck in soft slow kisses. It’s when his hand pushes past your stomach and below your underwear that the ecstasy hits you.

He’s slow, painfully so, his middle finger slides through your folds and you feel teeth etch themselves into your shoulder. The cold metal of the ring grazing your clit finger sends a shiver down your spine, you release a groan and he bites harder on the flesh. 

He rubs your clit with two fingers, allowing you to savor in the warming pulses rippling through your cunt. Through the pleasure, you feel him pushing his hard cock into your ass, grinding onto the exposed flesh. 

You’re moaning like hell, unable to contain how good it feels to have someone dominating you, relishing in your body. He releases your clit and moves his fingers downward, instantly sticking two digits in your hole. The pain from how hard he’s biting into your shoulder, undoubtedly drawing blood, with how fast his fingers pulse in and out of you sends you into another dimension.

In the back of your mind, you hear the slow rhythm of The Weeknd’s song filling the air, transcending you back in time. Jungkook’s low growl and how hard his dick felt on your ass as you danced for him. 

The fact that you made him hard even though he knew who you are.

The fact that he wanted to fuck you regardless of the idea that you possibly murdered his father.  

He let you grind on him, feel all of him. 

He wanted you. 

You want him right now. Want to feel the swell of his cock again, hear him say those nasty arrogant words, and steal them from his lips. 

“Just like that,” Jungkook growls against your ear.

You open your eyes, panting hard, it’s Jimin who stares back into the reflection, smirking at your battered form. You’re spasming all over his fingers, pussy pulsing in a rhythmic beat as you orgasm. You’re moaning, hands pressed flat against the glass. 

Jimin doesn’t wait for you to finish riding the waves of your orgasm. He takes his fingers out of you, leaving your cunt clenching against nothing. You’re too occupied with calming your breaths to hear the fabric of his trousers tossing, to hear him his as he hisses when he uses the same fingers he used in you to wet his cock. 

You do, however, feel him push your thong to the side and the swell of his cock at your entrance. You’re so ready, you’ve never been more ready for anything else. It’s been two fucking years. God, you can’t fucking think straight.

“Fuck me al—“

The words are stolen from you when Jimin pushes himself into you completely, he doesn’t let you catch your breath, doesn’t give you time to formulate any words, he just goes. 

With one hand, he grabs the back of your neck and slams your face into the glass. The coldness of it feels good on your cheek, the mixture of the hard surface and the pounding has you grinding through your teeth, it’s too much. It encompasses you, filling you like nothing else in the world can.

Jimin fucks you relentlessly, pounding in you at light speed. He’s breathing hard, but he doesn’t stutter. The sound of flesh colliding with flesh fills the quietness of his apartment, you can’t help but moan. 

“The world’s watching you.” He releases your neck, quickly switching over to grab a bundle of your hair and yank your head toward the flashing city.  

It’s blurry, all over the place, and you moan like a whore for it. 

“Watch them,” Jimin growls. 

He’s fucking you faster than before, your stomach bubbles with the formation of a second orgasm. You can’t think, can’t breathe, you’re just taking. Taking Jimin’s cock as he gives it to you, as he takes everythingfrom you.

You close your eyes, and your head falls limp. Everything feels so slick, so wet. Jimin’s cock is easing in and out of you, his free hand grips your exposed boob, massaging it. 

“Open your fucking eyes,” He releases your tit, slapping it before grabbing your chin to face the world before you. “Watch them as I fuck you.” 

A muffled sound escapes you, he’s let go of your hair, exposed chest flat against your back as he continues thrusting. 

“You’ll kill anyone for me,” He says, voice wavering in pleasure, “I just need to say the name.” 

Your heart and head pound because he’s right. The second he says a name, the life has already been taken from them. They’ve been handed over to the Grim Reaper, and fuck, does Park Jimin own you. 

Every command is his, and every action of yours is done by his accord.  

Jimin’s hips are stuttering now, he’s mumbling something but you can’t get the thought out of your head, can’t hear the words.

You’ll do anything to fulfill his command. Anything. 

Your stomach coils, and your pussy pulses faster than before. You feel Jimin’s falls hitting your cunt with each thrust and it feels too good. It’s too good, too overwhelming. 

“Mine,” he moans, and then he’s stuttering, sloppily thrusting until he stops. He allows the milky liquid to spill into your cunt.

He continues to slowly thrust in you, pushing his cum further and further back into you. He’s claiming you. He’s fucking claiming you. 

Your head falls limp, forehead against the glass and you breathe hard. 

Jimin pulls out of you, hissing as the cold air envelops his dick. He slaps your ass and tugs his cock back into his trousers. 

You can’t move, can’t breathe, can’t think.

Mine, mine, mine. 

Jimin’s words replay in your mind on an endless loop. His.

If you’re supposed to be his, then why can’t you seem to get a certain arrogant son-of-a-bitch’s face out of your head?

Reply 2 be added. Ty for reading.

@callmejimmeo @jasminperez18 @yoon2jk @jungkookminthairwhen @emogyus @nochuntae @hopesflwr @jmnrl @dracujin @bbyjmmns @virgojimi @jikukker @dollbabyg @ieonkrive @iholdkoo @namaslaylife @mini-mouser22 @greetieweetie @ohyeakjk @sugatalus @kooikk @vanteskku @duskvk @ggukssluvrr @sweetempathprunetree @monilyv @jkoomimi @jessieeq1986 @koozip @jjkuteu @naaktj @kooliv @yourslut16 @luvrkoo @jamlesstars @purrbangtann @scientisterror @darkuni63 @prudyhoo @nochubabystarcandy @wonieeee @st3ft0n3s @manjir0 @mdibby

[spidereggs888]

MIGUEL IMPREGNATES EVERYONE IN A 69 FT RADIUS!

🤰🫄🫃🕷

/j 💀

Miguel and You

Miguel O’Hara & y/n, any gender or non gender. Very casual writing style. TW Dark humor, dangerous situations, 18+. Y/n are sorta attracted to Miguel (why else would you be here?) but he doesn’t know you lol

ACT 2 | BLACK MARKET DEMONS

This has a drawing

If you haven’t read ACT 1, click this

•°《🕷》°•

You can’t remember how much time has passed or what you were doing. Those freaky eyes fade from your vision, and now you can barely see your own legs and shoes. It’s dark. Horror movie dark. You hear a scuffling sound from nearby. This so feels like a b-horror where the main character keeps surviving somehow. You hope this is the case.

“Dis shit’s useless!”

As your vision returns, you squint to the side and see someone’s back to you, crouching on the ground with a laptop. You assume it’s the guy who led you down here, but who the hell is he? And how does he know you?

You check your surroundings without moving your head too much in the hopes you’ll find a clue. You appear to be under the maintenance level of Nueva York, since there’s pipes all around the walls, all filled with the deafening roar of ocean water. This is far below your home level, down in the bottom where Nueva York was called New York. The place stinks of rot that would have made you gag if you weren’t already used to the dumpster near your apartment cube.

Through all the steam hissing you hear the familiar clinking sound of your data sticks.

“Fiddy grand here…. Four dere… not enough…”

This fucker is probing through your savings! It’s not much to him but you need it for your bills!

“Oh shock it!” He grumbles. You see his head turn, so you immediately return to your hypnotized pose. You can hear him clamber over and lean in close. His breath stinks of rationed mineral chips, food people buy when they are facing starvation. Alchemax wanted to save face in the public eye years ago, so they made those nasty mineral bars to fight starvation. You made it a point to never eat them since Speshall told you what’s in them. You feel bad for this black market demon. He’s probably also down on his luck despite his skill set.

You don’t feel sorry for him for long. He briefly presses something metal against your ear, and with a click sound he administers a sharp jab. You flinch but try to remain in a fake stupor. He rubs something against the wound, and you feel warm blood trickle down your lobe. He Sméagol-crawls away to his laptop light and you carefully squint his way again. You can’t see what he’s doing but you hear the clinking of glass.

You finally recall his voice again. He was following you after you parked your car before going in for the O’Hara interview. He must have been trying to snatch you up in broad daylight, because that’s how fast the black market demons are.

“No illnesses… a lil’ iron deficiency but dat can be overlooked…”

Oh fuckin hell, he intends to sell your organs.

You move your hands and see they are taped together. Your pants are stapled together (who the hell even does that?!) and you are stuck on your bum. You raise your gaze ahead of you and see a man in the same pose as you, except he doesn’t look well at all. In fact, there’s a dark pool at his stomach and his pants are drenched.

Holy shit!

You nope the fuck out of there and the demon hears you. He slams down his little science project and chases after you. Your pants are ripped from resisting the staples. You dash down the dark alley of tubes and pipes. He almost grabs you but he is hit with steam.

“Augh my fuckin eyes!”

You keep running. You can feel a cool breeze coming from somewhere. You have to get to the street. You have to get away. You left your data sticks behind but so what?! He’s AFTER you!

“DON’T LET ‘EM GET AWAY!” he screams.

Multiple freaky masks and eyes appear in the darkness! More demons! They are clambering out of their dwellings. You run past one of them flaying a body under a red light. You don’t stop to investigate, you keep running. The air smells even more rotten this way, a blend of ocean water and dead bodies. You keep running, your legs burning. Damn the sedimentary lifestyle of your office job. You are out of shape and trying to run for your life.

More creepypasta masks appear from the dark. You stare straight ahead. You can’t look at them. They mean to stop you. They mean to tear you apart. One grabs your scarf and you spin out of it. One grabs your jacket and you slip from the silk sleeves. Your lungs are on fire. You escape between stacks of broken monitors, shoving them behind you to slow down your assailants, but you are getting slower, too. Your path is getting wider, but also darker. There’s very little light here.

You stop at a completely dead and dark end. You can’t see anything in front of your face. You try to quiet your ragged breaths. You can hear the demons getting closer, but if you run more, you risk crashing into something you can't see.

“Turn around!” the demon demands.

You do nothing except stare bug-eyed into the darkness.

“Turn AROUND! Are ya deaf?!”

The vast darkness is barely illuminated by all the masks that strobe behind you. You can see a ledge before you, with nothing visible down below. What a drop off!

“LOOK AT ME!”

He grabs your shoulder and turns you to face him. He’s even closer now, his weird eyes pulsating black and white.

“Das right… look into my eyes…”

You feel your senses numb again. Your mind goes foggy. Maybe it was better to jump than face the horrors of the demons who will tear you apart. Then you hear someone else moving in the dark.

“Found you.”

Your demon is grabbed by the neck. Near him a whole illuminated bodysuit of a man materializes from the darkness. Bright red designs light up his massive chest and shoulders, and his mask has abstract eye marks that emote into a scowl as he tightens his grip on the demon’s neck. You feel as if you are trapped in the deep ocean where no light reaches the floor and you are witnessing one of its denizens about to be devoured by an even bigger one.

A giant red palm pushes you away onto the ground. You crumple down and watch the demon being raised off his feet like a rag. He is gasping for air and thrashing his pathetic legs around.

“You guys wanna see something?”

The mask of the larger man vanishes, but you can’t see many features with the strobe light of the demon’s copypasta mask. What you can make out are a set of terrifying fangs, a gaping maw opening unnaturally wide at the demon who makes a strangled shriek. You hear a nasty chomp sound, like someone taking a bite into a roll of hamburger meat! The demon kicks his legs helplessly, which looks even more horrible in the strobe light. The other demons bolt, and you instinctively lay down as they dash around you for their own escape. You try to ignore the icky gasping sounds. You hear a low, deep chested hum of satisfaction from the bigger predator. You try not to look, but you hear no more sputtering and kicking.

It’s over. The attack is over and the demon is not moving. Even his mask’s light dims in defeat. You close your eyes, unsure of what to expect next. All you know is that you do not want to be the center of attention. Your eyes snap open when you hear the demon's body fall to the ground.

“Lyla, scan the body.”

“He’s alive. The venom is doing its work.”

“And the other one?”

“Also alive. Probably still under the effects of the hypnosis.”

“That should wear off soon. We need to get back to the surface.”

“Affirmative! I’ll map out the quickest route!”

No fucking way. Accent and everything, even down to having an AI helper named LYLA. If WTF was a sensation, you would be feeling it now.

The black market demon is dragged away. You raise your head and see the large fellow wrapping the demon up in a bright red web. No fucking way is this happening! He’s rolling this guy around and around like a dead fly. There is no other person this could also be!

This man, Miguel O’Hara, has been moonlighting as the illusive vigilante Spider-Man!

You should really be more discreet with your spying but you can’t help it! Spider-Man stands upright, his whole suit fully illuminated with tech not yet known to the public. Dark blue and bright red, the patterns akin to the original Spider-Man who lived a hundred decades or so ago, except more minimalist to match the 22nd century aesthetic with a touch of ancient Mexican design. His mask re-materializes but you didn’t need to see his face to know who he was, there’s too much personal evidence to be mistaken. He stands proudly at 6’9” feet, like a beacon in the darkness. Then you hear a weird gurgle coming from him and he doubles over.

“Eugh!”

“I told you they added cream again. Why did you drink it anyway?”

“I was in a hurry.”

“Haste makes waste! You ended up spending an hour in the bathroom, which canceled your SM society meeting.”

“Not everyone was there anyway- Dios Mio I think I’m dehydrated…”

He groans then comes over to you and grabs your bound hands. With surgical precision he scratches off the tape with claw-like protrusions from his fingertips. You don’t move. The last thing you need is for him to know that you know him. You don’t know what to do with this information right now, it’s too much!

You are lifted off the floor with ease. You keep your eyes closed but wish you could see what’s going on. He cradles you in his giant arms and you assume he must be checking you over. It’s like being hugged by a couch.

“A scratch on the ear… no severe damage.”

You hear a small sound of indifference in his throat before you are rolled around in webbing, round and round like a burrito.

He slings you and the demon onto his shoulder like a couple of grocery bags, and you come cheek to cheek with your attacker. You scowl at his stupid face. His creepy eyes are all crossed and his jaw is slacked with his tongue poking out, so you turn your head away discreetly. Your savior walks a bit, jostling his luggage around to get comfortable before lunging straight up.

You can hear screaming from below. The demons didn’t run away out of fear; they fell back for reinforcements. You peek down and see their hypnotic faces flashing up like angry ghosts from outer space. As you and your company ascend higher, projectiles fly up, nearly hitting you in the head.

“Over twenty black market demons are on your tail,” Lyla announces.

“Got it.”

Spider-Man throws you and the demon straight up and you let out a yelp. The world is spinning out of control and you try not to feel sick. This must be what it’s like to be a shirt shot out of a t-shirt cannon. You are at the mercy of the bright red web pinning your arms to your sides as you fall back down to earth like a corn. You catch a glimpse of what’s going on below and see red streaks of lights. Demons are being flung all over the place, their projectiles not fast or strong enough to stop this even bigger monster from tearing through them.

Gravity is merciless, but before you can land anywhere more red webs fly at you from the dark, snagging you and your company on a light pole. You look down and see some of the demons below trying to reach you, scaling the light pole with crackhead energy. There is a loud ringing sound and the pole vibrates for a split second, making your teeth rattle.

The light pole shifts, cut in half like paper by something red moving lighting fast. The demons screech to each other (something about getting the hell out of there), and you are too stunned to scream for help as the whole metal pole is now falling. [Do you know how freakin big metal light poles are? Just walk up to one, they are actually ginormous. Blew my goddamn mind.]

The pole crashes down and gets stuck across two large machines, the top end jammed into the massive machinery. The webbing took all the shock of the fall, so you and the demon are dangling like a pair of converses on a telephone wire. You jerk your head around as the demons come crawling like ants, their pursuit hindered by the violent shaking of the metal pole. One flings herself close and grabs you by the head, and you lock eyes with her freaky face. She got mouths where her eyes should be!

The she-demon is knocked away with a nasty slap sound, ragdolling away into the vast darkness.

“-- Yiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii—------”

Your hero is slapping the demons around, just pimp-slapping them all over the place.

“¡ESTUPIDO!”

*THWACK*

“¡PENDEJO!”

*SLAP*

“¡VETA A CASA CON MAMA!”

*POW*

“BYE BITCH!”

*SLAP*

(that last one had their whole mask slapped off. Contacts went flying, too.)

The demons get the hint and refuse to be humiliated further. They scatter off in the dark, and you can hear cursing and swearing as they go back to their deep dark dwellings.

“THAT’S RIGHT! ¡LARGATE, FUCKERS!”

He crouches on the metal light pole with great balance and listens as the demon squalling grows distant. He huffs with satisfaction.

“Shocking idiots…”

Spider-Man crawls his way across the shaky pole and retrieves his spider sacks with people in them. He leaps off as the machine finally rips through the pole, sending it falling all the way down into the darkness. Spider-Man listens to it hit the bottom.

“Okay, we leavin’ this ass-crack of the city for real this time.”

“A few of those people are critically injured,” Lyla reports, “I saw someone’s eye pop out.”

“Well I guess someone’s gotta keep an eye out, right?”

You always heard OG Spider-Man was a notorious wise-cracker, but this guy goes a little darker with his brand of humor. He was right about one thing.

Fuck those guys.

•°《🕷》°•

You and the demon are plopped down on the ledge of a building.

"Alright, time to put you back where you came from. And I'll just leave ugly here-," he says, hanging the black market demon upright on some wrought iron decor, "Even if he wakes up and frees himself, he'll still be stuck on this roof... unless he decides to jump off... then Godspeed, heh heh."

He takes you into a one arm embrace and scales down the side of your apartment using his web as a cord. Your face is being mushed into one of those monster pecs of his, and you try not to protest the fact that you can't breathe well. You hear a crash of glass.

“Yeah, your foot just went through a window,” Lyla announces.

"Ah shock... I'll pay for that sometime. This must be the bedroom."

He kicks in the rest of the window and deftly slides indoors, holding you against his waist. You barely open your eyes and see, by the arrangement of LED lights, you are home in your one-room studio apartment. He plops you down on your bed and rips off the red webbing.

“Yeah, you are in for a throbbing headache tomorrow,” Spider-Man says, keeping his voice low.

You are still pretending to be asleep as you hear him poke around at your stuff. You can hear your apartment hub terminal activate. You wonder what he’s doing messing with that.

“I’ve ordered nausea and pain relief to be delivered to this address,” Lyla confirms.

“Good. Those visual-hypnotic masks do some nasty damage. They need to get booted from the black market somehow. You got any ID on cara de moco?”

“Jeff Landers. Lost his apartment in Queens. Pretty much plinko’ed all the way down.”

“Ah, uh huh.”

“His last known location was in the Thor Memorial Housing,” Lyla continues, “his caseworker was the last person to see him.”

“Little did they know he’d go from praising Thor to harvesting organs,” he says, a little amusedly.

“He had a bad history of abuse from his father and lived in poverty. Can you really blame him?”

You hear Spider-Man walk near the foot of your bed. There’s a pause.

“I do blame him,” he finally concludes, “you can have the worst upbringing but still try to be a decent person. His shitty life doesn’t warrant torturing other people. He coulda been more like this one here, doing everything within reason to get by while still being a good person…”

He means you.

“Whelp, time to go torture that dummy. Gotta find out where he got that stupid mask.”

You can hear him stepping over your things and slipping out of the broken window. As soon as he leaves, you spring up and run to the window. You watch this giant man scale up from below. You didn’t mean to or expect it but get a direct buckshot of his backside for a moment [Why the heck is his suit so TIGHT? WHY?! You never seen a crotch so sculpted like that, what the fuck. Do he know this?! Is he aware he looks practically naked?! It’s like his suit is painted on- ]

He jumps from your apartment to the adjacent building where he left the black market demon. There’s no mistake of who he is, especially with that body, but now he’s gone and you are left to pick up the pieces both literally and figuratively. Now what the hell are you gonna do?! Your phone and your lanyard of data sticks (basically your wallet) are still down in hell with the other demons!

There’s no time to lose. You must cancel all your credit cards and change the passwords on every account you own, because it’s not like those demons are gonna pay your bills for you!

Turning on your computer interface in the wall, you video-call your landlord. The only thing you can really explain to him is that you busted the window when you were moving furniture around. He’d never believe Spider-Man kicked it in. You find that Spider-Man is cool in more ways than just looks, your landlord thanks you for a forwarded payment with the attached note sorry about the window.

After allowing him 10 minutes to lecture you with no interruptions other than a nod or sound of agreement, you close the video with him, then begin the long hunt down of all your credit and banking connections. You use your email to recall every important account. You even find some that are out of service and close them down. It’s a humbling experience, but not in the same way as being kidnapped by that black market demon. You feel like you are dissecting your life choices, reviewing things you hadn’t thought of in a long time. You unsubscribe from the health newsletters you don’t even read anymore. You delete the emails you swore you were gonna read later. All of it, fuck it, throw it in the trash. Guilt chain letters be damned, they will have to get their money from someone else, because you won’t ever be rich enough to become a philanthropist.

You are satisfied to some degree. You look out the window Spider-Man left through. Even though he met you as Miguel O’Hara, how did he find you? How did he know you were in trouble? You’ll have plenty of time to think of that in the shower, since you smell like sea water and dead skin particles.

.°˖✧🖫✧˖°.

The next morning, you reactivate your old phone after your mother sent you some money. She’s always offered, and every time you refused, but this time you didn’t need to be spending all of what you have left. You send her a text thanking her and promising to pay her back. Afterwards, you open a video chat with Speshall.

“Hey!”

“Sup, poser?!” She sings back. You were always caught off guard by her humor, but you needed that shit today.

“I had the most fucked up day, yesterday!”

You spend the next thirty minutes telling her what happened. She laughs, she screeches, she squawks, and she groans. Then you get to the horrible parts with the black market demon, then the larger-than-life rescue from Spider-Man.

“He musta been spying on their asses or something”, she says, “how else could he know you were in danger?!”

That is a pretty good question. It must have everything to do with his identity as O’Hara. You both exchanged information, after all. Maybe he was tracing your phone? But no, you decide not to tell her about this, about the possible correlation between Spider-Man and O’Hara.

“No idea but I’m glad he showed up.”

“Yeah, maybe you were in the right place at the right time or whatever. Hey, what do you have planned for dinner? My boyfriend flaked, maybe you can come over later. Hang on, I gotta make sure he’s really not coming tonight-“

Her voice drowns out as your mind shifts to thoughts of O’Hara. Did he remember who you were? He must have, right? Maybe he will also take pity and hire you, now that he’s seen your pitiful house. And what’s more, what if you become some kind of keeper for him?! Maybe knowing who he really is might be a kind of bargaining chip for getting hired? No, that’s something Brody would do, the goon. No, Miguel O’Hara’s secret identity is good as safe. Besides, he thinks you are a good person! You need to keep being that. You feel glad to have covered for him.

“Hey, did you hear me?”

“Huh?”

“I sent you some money! Check your email!”

“Oh!”

You open your inbox and see a few new notifications. Money from Speshall, a newsletter from Maglev Motors that you kept the subscription to, and an email from Alchemax Business Bureau. You click on that first, it might be important.

Employee 2232

By request of the CEO of our parent company, you are no longer scheduled for the meeting in the major temp office of Alchemax Business Bureau. We apologize for any inconveniences this may cause and wish for the best in your future endeavors in your department. This is by no means a termination to your current occupation. Thank you for your time.

— Management

“Oh no no NO!”

“What is it? Did the money not go through?!”

You sit back and put your hands on your head.

“O’Hara just canceled the meeting!”

__________________________________________

Next: ACT 3 | INTERVIEW WITH THE VAMPIRE

[princess-of-the-corner]

See now I'm thinking more on that amnesia!dabi au and just how fucking useless he'd be to AfO as anything other than 'just another soldier' and it's fucking hilarious.

like like like. Fucking imagine this position.

You have the child of the #2 Hero, who is very filled with rage because said Hero is actually kind of a shitty fucking dad. And that's fantastic! He'd be easy to manipulate against his father! And using him to get the word out about how a Great Hero™ could be An Asshole™ would help destabilize society!

EXCEPT

The little shit has to go and get amnesia so now he has no idea who he is and can't be manipulated! And even if you tell him the truth and he believes you instead of realizing you're a sketchy fucker and running home to check things out, it's still not enough because hearing about it vs. experiencing it is such a different thing and he's bound to go 'wow that fuckin sucks.... anyway I'm gonna just leave now' instead of joining your emo band and killing people!!

[awigglycultist]

NPMD thoughts

Omg Richie's screams

Poor Richie my beloved

He's dead <3

Oh wait Ruth's headgear is missing in this song

Grace covering her mouth!

STEPH! PETE! <3

WHAT A START

Sycamore! We really need to know more about them

Rip Peter

I love the running in Literal Monster

Out first Max saying Bitch incident!

Get him up! Get this fucker up!!

I love being able to properly see everyone's facial expressions

I hate Solomon so much

Steph is very stupid for putting her hand above her phone as it's about to me smashed but also I'd probably do the same

"this projects on thermodynamics, what the fuck are you talking about?"

I literally love Ruth's, Pete's and Richie's friendship so much

"What was I like when she touched your arm? Did you cum!?"

"Pete silence your phone in the library!" you guys have been screaming this whole time but ok

NANI?

Ugh Pete you are cooler than you think you are!

Love Max finishing the "woah oh oh oh"

"Had to sell your bowtie to feed your fuckin family?"

Omg Pete's breathing and whining while Max is monologuing <3

"now say your fucking prayers bitch!" "-amen!" is still such a good transition

"mom will you pass the buttstuff?" "I just want some head and butter" "bread and buttstuff" still get me

"I love... Jesus <3 :)"

Dirty Girl should not be so good

"WHO ON OCCASION GETS DIRTY!"

Me trying to watch this and imagine watching with my dad to figure out the appropriateness and if gonna have to skip past parts

Ugh Pete <3

Ugh Steph caring about Pete so much despite knowing him for one day <3

Hatchettown notfi!

#pottypants let's get it trending

IT'S BULLY THE BULLY TIME!!!

Love hoe you can see Steph slowly getting into it

Beans cool? Excellent!

Pete's and Richie's finger fun moment!

"who was that?" "my boyfriend!" "sounded like a telemarketer" "okay my ex boyfriend"

Love the screams after "you kinda look like that homeless man from downtown"

"fucking useless Pete!"

"no he thinks the ghost is real he's just really fucking brave"

"I am Jägerman! I am God! Go Nighthawks!"

Skele'on

The little bit of info that Max's dad would call him a cuck and the fact that his bullying likely comes from a lot more trauma with his dad

It's the nicest thing anyone's ever done for him :(

Rip the glow in the dark skeleton costume

"this is Hatchetfield, people go missing everyday!"

Love Kyle and Brenda, what a supportive couple

"this is really your C+" "oh, Steph, you can keep it :)"

"with consent of cour cause we care!"

FUCK YOU CLIVESDALE!!!

Zeke the fighting Nighthawk like Ezekiel from Perky's Buds! Did Ekekiel name himself after Hatchetfield's mascot?

Love the audience cheering after "fuck Clivesdale fuck em straight to hell!"

Richie struggling with costume is so good

"I love being alive!"

God the costume and makeup up close! So good!!!

Smoke club!

Richie's fall is so good!!!

Jon's singing is seriously so good in npmd

And god Will is incredible

Yup Mark & Karen were just so wild at 18

"you don't say, you don't say. I'm be down there in a jiffy" "what'd they did dad?" "they didn't say"

Jeff voice over cameo!

Davis!

Love that Grace calls the cops pigs

Davis and Virginia!

Ziggy! Barry! Charlie!

Bryce's solo <3

Gerlad!

Love the cameos so much (but also rip Jerry, least it's preserved in the album

The bbq monologues bit is so stupid and so good and funny

Me Barbecue!

I love Trevor I hope we see him again

"I'm my dreams, it's my barbecue!"

Just For Once is so silly and so emotional love it it's underrated

"it fucking worked I'm fucking here he's fucking her!"

Lauren is so good!!

"take a bow, bitch"

"Every citizen of Clivesdale is guilty until proven innocent"

Shapiro saying she found the wwjd bracelet in the principal's office really got me the first time

"it's God plan! And now he's leaving me out to dry! Do something you son of a bitch!"

PAUL & EMMA!!!!

The knowledge of what card Jon hands Lauren makes this scene better

"I have been waiting for what feels like 5 fucking years and I still haven't gotten my hot chocolate!"

Emma spitting in the coffee!

Rip "women shoe"

AHHH IF I LOVED YOU!!!

"Leave room for Jesus!"

"she's bisexual and dead where else would she be!"

Rip Angela's fall

"get your hands out of your pocket! Put your hands down! He's going for a gun!"

The scream!

Also the audience screaming during this entire scene from Paul's & Emma's entrance to Emma screaming, so valid and great

"don't comfort her she's fucking weird"

I hate him but we absolutely need to know more about Solomon, how do the Mayor's learn so much

The black book! The nightmare time theme!

And another reason we need to know more about Solomon, why tf did he have the black book and what did he do with it

Max's one liners are so great

"on the ground bitch I'm a cop!"

"are you a women of faith?" "catholic" "I'll take that as a no"

"there's something deeply wrong with this whole town" yeah there sure is

Pete saying he has no idea what he's doing when he checks for Shapiro's pulse is such a great way of keeping it unknown if she's alive or dead

AAAHHHH THE SUMMONING

"t'noy karaxis" particularly scratches my brain

AHHH THE LORDS IN BLACK

I am a bit sad you can't see all the dance moves at the same time and you so you can't really see them changing dances with each other but also the close ups are so cool and very fitting for the scene!

Jon putting his fingers together so it's reminiscent of the doll only having three is such a cool choice

GOD FUCKING DAMMIT JOEY RICHTER WHY DO YOUR EMOTIONAL PERFORMANCES HAVE TO BE SO GOOD

I WAS RIGHT I WAS NOT PREPARED FOR CAITIA REPRISE

They both do a great job during this and I NOT OKAY

Max's fucking beat boxing

"so you do know the bible!"

This is scene is seriously so crazy

Graces entrance afterwards with the cigarette is so great and Max's entrances afterward laying on the bench is so great

The spin!

The lighting!!!

Homecoming time!

Someone remind me to add Joey in best of you to the air guitar thread

And that's it. That's where ends :)

Grace is so crazy and I love her

[aita-blorbos]

AITA for throwing all my ex's shit into the ocean and cutting off my first mate's toes?

So basically what happened is I've been living on a ship plundering and thieving and dominating the seven seas for a long time now and my first mate has sort of been sailing on my cottails ever since I hired him on.

I was getting bored and lazy and sure maybe that was annoying for him but whatever it's my fuckin' life.

Anyway there was this new guy making waves in our line of work and I was just curious what he was like. Guy wasn't doin' it like the rest, maybe it could reignite my love for the life.

First mate fuckin' dragged his feet every step of the way. Bitched and moaned because I wanted him to do his fuckin' job and get this new guy's attention so I might recruit him and take his ship. You know, the ush.

Well, as always, I had to do the work myself because this man is fucking incapable of following orders apparently. Saved his whole life you know. And after that we were really hitting it off, so I thought hey - this could he something. But my first mate couldn't fucking handle it and wanted me to abandon this awesome, kind, thoughtful guy for what? treasure? I'm literally fucking rich, man.

So he betrayed me!! Went behind my beck and sent the fucking pigs after me. They nearly killed my new friend, right in front of me! I didn't even get to see his dick yet >:(

So I was reasonably pissed right and I decked him and went into custody with this new guy. Cuz really, we've just been so happy and getting along and he's really genuine and kind to me. Like really really. He's my friend, the only one I've ever had.

And it was actually kind of nice. Domestic even, I never thought I'd enjoy that. And while we were biding our time in the brig, I asked if he'd run away with me. And can you believe it? He said yes! And we even kissed! It was incredible. I felt amazing. How could a fancy fucker like him pick a guy like me?

But when the time came to run... he never showed. I had to escape the brig alone, on a shity little row boat. and rise all the way back to his stupid ship where my stupid first mate was being mutineed by his stupid fucking crew. And weirdly they were also nice to me. And it was okay for awhile.

And I started to even feel better. To grow and heal. Like maybe it wasn't Stede that made me happy, but the freedom to be myself authentically.

But of course. That shithead first mate can't leave well enough alone. Gotta throw a fucking fit about everything I do and don't do to appeal to him. He fucking cornered me, alright?? In my own room. Threatened to kill me if I didn't stop being so gay. I mean it was fucking blatant! What else was I supposed to do?

So! Yeah. I cut off that shitheads fucking toe. And I fed it to him. Because no one fucking threatens me, ever. And then I made that shitlicking crew throw out all that assholes stuff and took his ship, left the useless ones tied up, and tossed the talkative fucker who thought he could make me feel better into the ocean.

And thats pretty much it.

Anyway. AITA?

[ladykissingfish]

*the Akatsuki, minus Itachi, having a meeting*

Konan: I just don’t know how much longer I can fake a smile with this.

Hidan: Yeah, it’s fuckin’ getting out of hand …

Nagato: Now, now. I know that Itachi’s new hobby is a bit hard to take, but …

Sasori: It’s blatant plagiarism, is what it is! I’M the one who creates replicas for a hobby! How is he just going to suddenly decide that he likes making dolls of all of us?!

Kisame: Hey, he tries his best …

Hidan: *holds up his doll* But this shit looks nothing like me! I mean I know that fucker is practically blind but come on … how do you confuse yellow hair with my beautiful silver locks?!

Deidara: At least the HAIR is all that’s wrong with yours, hm — look at mine! Why do I have a hunchback!?! And why do my handmouths look like sick lizards??

Konan: Why did he make mine with one breast so much smaller than the other?

Sasori: … well to be fair your chest IS a bit uneven —

Konan: Shut up!

Nagato: *clearing throat* Look, we all know his creations are … unflattering. But it keeps him occupied and makes him happy, so just bear with it.

Kakuzu: Very noble, Leader, but our budget can’t “bear with it” much longer. *hands him a list* Do you see what all of the materials and paint are costing us??

Nagato:

Nagato: Okay this needs to end. Kisame, he’s your partner, so you go in there and —

Tobi: No.

Nagato: No?

Tobi: No. Itachi-san deserves happiness at whatever cost. And considering all the money we spend on useless things, like Konan’s makeup and Hidan’s scythe polish, I think we can spare this too.

Nagato: Nevertheless —

Tobi, eye glowing: NO. Now one by one all of you are going to go in there and tell him you LOVE your doll. If not, the next thing he’s going to be creating is all of you … under your headstones. Understand??

Everyone:

Everyone: *stampedes over each other to get to Itachi*

Zetsu: You’re really protective over him, aren’t you?

Tobi: It’s the least I can do for my little cousin. And besides … *holds up his doll* MINE looks pretty good.

Zetsu: Yes but yours is the only one that does …

Tobi: *shrugs* Sounds fair to me.

Zetsu:

[mishapocalyse]

Silent Skies

Chapter 01-“Roads Not Yet Traveled” Pairings: Soldier Boy (Ben Gilman) x Deaf! Original Character Warnings: Soldier Boy is his own warning, drug use, sexual themes, language, gore, blood, sexual assault, attempted r*ape, suicide, mentions of suicide, self harm, mentions of mental illness—that may be within this fanfiction may be triggering for some.

Do not repost, copy, paste this work or claim this as your own. Reblog instead!

Read at your own risk, enjoy.

Note: Some scenes may be out of canon, and character.

An AU where Soldier Boy gets a second chance to walk free. After his first time out of the box, William Butcher goes back on his word and the Boys put him back into the box.

Seven years later Lightening Bolt, a former member of Payback has him resurface to finish what Butcher couldn’t, however Soldier Boy had to learn how to handle himself in the new world a second time.

Lynyx Foster—was too kind and innocent for the everything’s happening around her. All she wanted was to be happy. Her world is initially turned upside down when she meets a man frozen in time with bad intentions written across his face.

She tried her best to communicate.

He believed she was mocking him.

Dust.

All he could taste, was dust in the back of his throat while he managed to drag himself from the rubble that Homelander had tossed him through. Thick, tangled clouds mixed with the smell of iron, which had come from the couple thousands of people that the American clad supe' had managed to incinerate alongside trying to kill him. Soldier Boy clung to the dagger he kept on his belt, his firearm running out of ammo earlier when he had been firing warnings that held no effect to Homelander.

This is fuckin' useless. He thought.

Homelander emerged amidst the blooming chaos as the rest of Soldier Boys fuckwads tore through their own troubles. He noticed Butcher a few feet away from him.

"This is unexpected aye'?" The Brit muttered, almost chuckling.

He ignored the snide comment, returning his gaze to Homelander, who had made his escape as quickly as he could. Soldier boy, turned slowly towards Butcher who had gathered the rest of the boys, all giving him their undivided attention.

They staged a coup.

Those fuckers.

Soldier Boy took a huge step back to find the blonde supe' at his neck, shooting a full blast of energy into his chest which he had tried to block. Mother's Milk and Kimiko, ambushed from the side, while Butcher tried taking him to the ground. With much error, they had succeeded in weighing the large supe', MM pressing the sleeper mask over Soldier's mouth.

"I'm not going back--into that fucking box!" He huffed out, trying to shake the others from him.

He felt himself slipping, eyes beginning to droop, feeling helpless and weak as he dropped like a brick to asphalt.

Soldier Boy did--in fact--go back into that box.

-------------- 7 Years Later--------------

Lynyx Foster had been sitting in the living room of a potential new home while she filled out the rest of the paperwork with her sisters. The two smiling over her, while she provided her signature; Aaron and Grace the payment.

The real estate agent smiled half-hazardously. "Are you sure that this is the place? You know who used to live here, right?"

Aaron laughed while Grace seemingly enough ignore the woman downright. Lynyx was left unbothered, entranced by the minimally furnished space.

"We've already put a huge chunk in for a down payment. Who gives a shit who owned this place. This is a long time gift to our sister, she deserves it." Aaron spouted, her anger rising while her skin grew hotter.

The agent apologized profusely to Aaron, while handing over the title and keys over to her. Plucking them from her fingertips, the woman scurried off, leaving Aaron to happily skip towards her youngest sister, bending down to her level.

'Here you go sis'. Happy Birthday.' Aaron signs.

Lynyx grinned as the keys were dropped into the palms of her hands. Flailing her arms out of excitement she returned the reply.

'I'm happy.'

It took three days to finish unpacking her things into the new house. Nestled deep in the woods, she had never been happier than what she was at this moment. Her sisters closer than ever, a new job given to her, issued by her best friend, Lightening Bolt. He had been in charge of the majority of departments that dealt with superabled beings that were injected with Temp V and Compound V. Maybe this job would be beneficial to her as she was trying to finish her degree at the local college. However, Lynyx knew that he’d placed her somewhere with the least amount of work, and more free time to do what she wanted. She also knew that her time as a student would be shortened, hopefully she could work something out.

Thinking about work.

She’d be late if she didn’t leave now.

Lightening Bolt stood close to Grace Mallory and the Boys as the group of them glared directly at Bolt.

Mallory slowly faced Bolt, a frustrated look plastered on her face.

“This Ms. Foster, this is what she’ll be doing-“. He interrupted her.

“Keeping our friend company. Dope right? I’m paying her a shit ton for a useless job. From the way I see it. You guys will just have to be on call in case something goes south. She will be fine, promise Mallory.” Bolt laughed. He wiped a fake tear from his cheek.

“She is the most harmless little thing. Don’t worry.” Yet, Mallory did not believe him for once second. The older woman huffed; while the security door slid open.

Lynyx shuffled through the doorway and into the larger room. The yellowing, concrete walls felt suffocating to her. Ceiling lights made the space more dull, almost a sickeningly dim hue, that yellow. A group of people, a few of them she recognized as her friend Bolt and her sisters. The two girls sharing the same look of disdain for her new line of work. She ran her hands down her dress that was perfect for the autumn weather, decorated with patterns of leaves and the perfect shade of orange and brown. Lynnie fixed a stray curl of hair, pushing it out of her face as she held her attention to the group.

‘Hello. I’m Lynnie. Nice to meet you all.’

Butcher coughed, hiding a laugh as he nudged Hughie. MM, Frenchie and Kimiko were baffled at the small woman before them.

“Is the little cunt deaf?” asks Butcher.

Lightening Bolt gave him the death stare.

“Rethink your fucking statement right now.” He said.

Butcher raised his hands in defeat.

“Aye’ sorry. Didn’t mean to offend. She’s just a bit too sweetsy to be running with Supes’.” Butcher retorts, rubbing his beard.

Bolt rolls his eyes and beckons Lynnie forward, smiling.

‘Let’s get you started?’ He signs to her.

She smiles, replying. ‘I’m excited.’

Lightening Bolt guided her towards the black Cadillac, opening the door for her. She raised a brow, just as confused as everyone else was. He placed a hand on her own, trying his best to comfort her.

“It is going to be fun, I promise.” He smirks; Lynnie frowns, looking away out the window.

The drive down the winding roads were peaceful, only if Lynnie didn’t feel like she was being held hostage by her best friend and his comrades. She fiddled with the hem of her skirt. Bolt broke the silence between them all.

“You’ll be watching a friend of ours. They’ve been a bit of a hassle lately, but I assure you the company will get them up and listening.” He began.

Lynnie snapped her head to send Bolt a nervous glance. Was he being serious? Was he selling her off? She bounced her leg nervously trying to regain herself when the car halted, the dust clearing. Lightening Bolt and his group stepped out of the vehicle, as Lynnie peeked up to see more people, men—in heavy armor and gear. Loaded to the teeth with AR-15’s and 47’s. She gnawed at her bottom lip; Bolt snapped his fingers, car door open, to get her attention. He held out his hand for her to grab onto as she shimmied out of the car seat, feet planting onto the gravel driveway.

The house in front of her was almost in shambles. She shook as she heaved a short gasp. Her hands wrapped anxiously around Bolt’s arm as she clung to him. He shot a “please don’t be afraid” glance to her. Lynnie did not accept that look at all. Her eyes found the others, all of them holding the same look as her.

Everyone was scared too.

She froze, almost making Lightening Bolt fall face first into the rocks. He swivels around, trying to figure out what was wrong.

‘Tell me what is going on—this is not what I agreed to. Is this safe for me?’ She signed, Bolt bit his tongue.

“Lynnie, look. I may have sort of lied to you. You were my last resort, really you were. But, I don’t have anyone else and you are perfect and smart, especially when it comes to people . Our friend is in dire need of recoupment—because he is way out of his time.” Bolt held tightly to Lynnie’s hands as hers gripped on his arm.

“Can you do this for me, please?” He pleads.

Lynnie gazed upon the house, then back to her best friend. Letting go, she crossed her arms over her chest. Letting out an exasperated sigh she shakes her head, as her arm extends.

Lead the way. It read.

All the thoughts, feelings, and confusion flew out the window when her eyes landed on the man sitting at the table. His head was laid down on his arms, slightly angled away, his eyes glued to the window. Tugging Bolt's themed sweatshirt sleeve, she again stopped in the dreary space meant to represent a living room. Lynnie motioned to everything around her.

'Is this where he lives?' She signs. Bolt nods.

'This is four walls and barely a roof.' Lynnie continued.

Bolt rubbed his face and groaned. He knew that this was exactly what would happen when she came in here.

"Lynnie, where do you propose we take him? Can't take him to the city, he'll be a danger to everyone--including himself. Can't take him to a motel because then we would have to put that on the expense tab--" Lynnie held her hand over Bolt's mouth to stop him from talking.

Frantically she signed out a response.

"No. Absolutely not." Bolt disagreed.

The look in her eyes when she looked at him was heartbreaking. For a man she hasn't even met yet, she sure wanted to make his life better. That was always how it went. Bolt knew the woman in front of him was the same little girl he grew up with. Always sweet, little miss. She cared for others--a little too much, and always would give the shirt of her back if it meant making their day brighter. Now, she was giving him those doe eyes, the ones he could not say no to.

He mumbled a few curses under his breath.

"Go on, get to know him before I change my mind. I'll talk to the others about the placement change." He said reluctantly.

'Thank you.' She signed, her arms around his neck in a tight hug.

Lynnie let go to slowly approach the man sitting at the broken table in what seemed like a half-hazardous kitchen. Again, his eyes glued to the window, staring out at the wooded area that surrounded the house. She took this moment to take in how much bigger he was compared to her. Telling from a distance, he could of been a foot or so taller than her, his large hands holding his shoulder, the definitions of his muscled form piquing her interest. He was much larger, and much, much stronger than her. Lynnie had to be careful of what she would say or do. He could be extremely unstable. Or worse, he could kill her with those hands of his. She wandered over to him, the closer she drew the more nervous she had gotten once more. Making her way around the table, she bends her knees, ensuring that she was at eye level with him.

His iris's were the color of sea glass, the rarest shade of green she had ever seen before. Whether or not the Compound V that ran through his veins was the culprit behind how beautiful his eyes were. Lynnie made an attempt to read him, there was a hint of annoyance in his eyes, and the ever so clenched jaw made it apparent that she was in his way. She smiled, waving to him, as she dusted the dirty floor to make room as she plopped down to sit.

"Who the fuck are you, princess?" He blurted out, raising his head up to sit straight in his chair, arms folded over that same muscled chest. Lynnie remained on the floor, with the same small smile.

'My name is Lynnie.' She began to motion her hands, slowly to make sure he could understand.

Alas, he didn't, sitting there with some offended expression plastered there. Bolt entered the room to intervene.

"Sparky, aren't you a delight to see." The man says, combing his fingers through his beard. Fuck, he needed to shave this shit, his hair needed a proper cut and he was in definite need of a hot shower; some hot food would be a nice addition too. Butcher, Bolt and the boys hadn't been the best company. The man placed his hand back into the crossed position they were before, a heavy sigh following after.

"Fuck you, Soldier Boy." Bolt started, Lynnie's eyes darted back to Soldier Boy's.

"If it were Herogasm, I would have taken you up on that offer. Though, I doubt you'd wake me up again for a quick fuck, gay boy." Soldier Boy joked, chuckling.

"I can still put you back in that fucking box, asshole. For the rest of your miserable, sad life. However, I have orders to give you, with the possibility of you walking free." Lightening Bolt gritted his teeth, the idea Soldier Boy being able to walk around in modern society as a free man was unnerving to him.

Lynnie continued to sit as the two bickered back and forth. She fidgeted once more with the hem of her skirt.

"Who's the girl, Sparky? Is she some cheap whore you hired or--" Soldier Boy did not get to finish his statement before he was falling back in his chair, his back colliding to the ground.

"Don't fucking talk about her like that, sick fuck." Lynnie got up to tug Bolt back, as she firmly shoved him back. Though he barely budged, she was able to quickly get through to him.

Soldier Boy laughed as he got up, brushing himself off. He picked up the broken chair, holding it in his left hand, eyes filled to the brim with a dangerous feel to them. The corners of his mouth twitched up into a heinous smile. He cracked his neck.

"You pack quite a punch nowadays, Sparky. I'll have fun teaching you who's in charge again." He made a quick quip, stepping forward and with one smooth motion, brought the chair up to potentially break even more over Bolt's head.

Lynnie shimmied herself between the two supers, both hands on either of their chests. Patting them repeatedly, Bolt as well as Soldier Boy stared down at her.

Soldier Boy huffs, tossing the chair to the side, Butcher and his men had entered through the back door to make sure everything was all right.

"Seems like princess here saved your ass. I wouldn't want the lil' lady to have to see a fight. You know...it's polite." Soldier Boy gave a toothy grin before tossing his attention to Lynnie. His head snapping down at her.

His eyes, were hungrily searching hers for any sort of weakness, but for Lynnie, she continued to give him a sweet, savory smile. She removed her hand from their chests, bringing both her arms back to sign to him. He ignored her and faced Bolt who still stood only a few feet away again.

"You're going to be put with my friend here so you can learn how to handle yourself in today's world. Seven years ago you may have gotten a nice little dip in the water, got your dick wet a bit. It is a lot crazier now, then what it was seven years ago, dickhead." Bolt stated leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

"Ah, so shagging me up with a babysitter. How thoughtful. Could not thank you enough--"

"Shut your mouth, prick. You are getting a second chance at life. I'd fucking take this as a reason to do as your told. Starting with listening to my friend here. She is going to be overseeing every single little thing you do, and you are going to listen to her. Okay? Is that easy for you to understand or would you like foe me to dumb it down for you some more?" Bolt had removed himself from his position on the wall to be only inches away from Soldier Boy's face, noses almost touching.

"Yeah, yeah. I get it." Soldier Boy began, his lips quivered.

"Good. I am so happy you understand, asshole." He then gestured to Lynnie who waited patiently.

"This is Lynyx Foster. She is going to make sure you are up to date on how to be a decent human being." Bolt then checked his watch for the time.

"Now that being said, come on, let's get you to where you'll be staying, dickhead." Bold said, eagerly trudging away from Soldier Boy and out the front door.

The Cadillac screeched to a halt at the end of the long winding driveway up the wooded hill, thick with trees and brush. Soldier Boy narrowed his eyes, not trusting anything that was happening. Lynnie had unbuckled her seatbelt, stepping out of the car, grabbing her bag as Bolt did the same. Soldier Boy followed after, curiously looking around. They were the only car at the time, but he could sense Butcher and his friends scattered in the woods watching them. Soldier Boy was not stupid, he knew that there would always be someone watching him. Soldier Boy went back to the two people in front of him. Bolt throwing signs towards the girl as she did the same in return. She threw her arms around Bolt in a tight hug, and he kissed her on the top of the head.

"Be safe, goofball. I'll be back at the end of the week." Bolt says as she nods.

The two watched as the Cadillac pulled away, Lynnie took the chance and made her way to Soldier Boy.

'Let's go.' she signed.

Soldier Boy just stood there, stunned. Lynnie soon rolled her eyes at him, a bit of a giggle escaping her throat as she grabbed his hand, guiding him up the long driveway. She let go once he went with her, the walk silent for a bit before he broke through the silence with a sigh.

'Okay?' She cocked her head and furrowed her brows as she signed her concern.

Soldier Boy gave the same look of confusion as he froze in his tracks. She gave a soft frustrated breath while she drew closer to the man frozen in place. She gazed up at him, while he looked down upon her. The two staring at each other for only a moment.

'Are you okay?' she signed again.

"Fuck me. Quit throwing your gang signs, woman. It was funny back at the safe house, but now it's getting on my fucking nerves." Soldier Boy spat.

Lynnie was taken aback. She shook her head, taking his hands in hers. She guided his hands to cup over her ears, then tow his own, then back to hers. She sucked in a shaky breath and opened her mouth to speak.

"I-- am-- deaf. I have hear-ing aids. I--can hear you. Hard--to--talk. A--S--L." Lynnie murmured, the patchy words that she spoke definitely got across pretty quickly.

Soldier Boy scoffed, a mixture of disappointment, confusion, even a bit of admiration flooded his emotions. He was absolutely flabbergasted at his situation right now. Lynnie took his hand once again and he walked alongside her in silence, reaching her front doorstep.

"Holy fuck. This is your place?" She turned to him and nodded, pulling out her house keys from her back to unlock the door.

Pushing the door open, she beckoned him inside, that little sweet smile never fading.

She sucked in another breath.

"Home."

[marisoft-paint-adventures]

Pgs. 614 - 759

fuck you Rose.

this item has far reaching consequences that affects all of time and space as well as giving me depression.

I like Andrew Hussie’s weird fucking gag of making Harry Anderson out to be this damn hardass magician man who just fucking cuts fingers and pokes holes into playing cards for no good reason. I also enjoy this narrator who’s some crack ace detective detailing his life in this book because why not.

SCREECHING CHILD DEMANDS ATTENTION.

YES.

POGO HAMMER.

HELL FUCKING YES.

FUCKING GET EM.

bed.

it is here where John sleeps in the page titled John: Sleep that John sleeps.

it is also here where TOBY FUCKING FOX IS IN THE COMIC BABYYYYY!!!! YEEAAAAAHH TOBYYYYY!!!! TOBIAS RADIATOR!!!! THE FUNNY GUY!!!!

I have to say that this page being Toby’s debut is incredibly funny because it didn’t even have his music when it first came out, because this was also the 1st flash for the muscial debut of fucking BILL BOLIN.

the tale of Bill Bolin is like a legend of ancient times, imagine getting so pissed off at Andrew Hussington of the Republic of Homestuckia that you post a giant fucking rant and this shitty compressed JPG of yourself giving the finger and that’s all people remember you for.

your entire legacy is this image, and you get replaced by THE DUDE WHO MADE UNDERTALE.

I still think of this photo to this day, it’s so damn good.

fuckin idiot.

POV: Jade Harley descends from the heavens.

speaking of Jade, the constant foreshadowing with her character is honestly so fun. she’s just so mysterious in every damn way, she knows shit in the future, she seems to be directing the kids into the game, for some reason she switches from well put together and collected to fuckin head empty happiness, she’s very cool and ominous at the same time.

This is what weaker adversaries do whenever things get too hot to handle, which is frequently.

even the imps are scared of the ogres.

you get that fucker.

oh yeah here’s where the early act style really comes into its own.

fuck yeah, look at this shit.

AND THEN DAVE ASCENDS TO THE HIGHEST POINT OF THE FUCKIN BUILDING YEAH YEAAAH YEAAHHHHHH.

THIS SHIT’S SO FUCKING COOL OH MY GODDDDDDDD.

I love Dave’s fucking trek up the stairs, he’s literally walking up the stairs he’s just WALKING but it’s shot in such way where it’s just fucking HYPE. the SUN the fuckin SUN, I love how it’s drawn as this violent red inferno eye that just stares down the city. Upward Movement is the perfect track for this whole thing, there’s no song that better communicates that shit is about to get real.

oh yeah and I guess Bro doesn’t really care everyone around him is dying, he’s too busy initiating the world’s most insane sibling wrestling session to ever exist.

what’s this??? girl????

no.

welcome to Problem Sleuth but also it’s the apocalypse.

Your teeth are useless for the task! They are blunt like that of livestock, presumably suitable for mashing up plant matter, and not for puncturing metal.

>lower carapacian ranks like pawns have dull teeth that would be built for plants.

>the high agents have sharp teeth perfect for puncturing flesh and Chess Flesh.

has Jack Noir mauled a bitch.

Your WEAK PATHETIC DIGITS are not strong enough to penetrate the can!!! Your fingers are certainly pointy enough, and your black carapace is suitably rigid, but you just don't have enough muscle for the task.

I want to headcanon that along with sharp teeth, the agents all have fuckin can-opener fingers, straight up claws, they could slash you dead. they could live out a Warrior Cats RP.

It is a sort of specialized BAR CODE PATTERN.

This brings back unpleasant memories and you would prefer not to dwell on it.

I am going to follow WV’s advice and not dwell on what sort of uncomfortable analogues you could make between this and real life.

YES.

IT BEGINS.

HIS WONDEROUS LEADERSHIP STARTS HERE.

You love the idea of being a mayor. You love everything about mayors, and the concept of an orderly, civil democracy. It all seems so mannerly and reasonable to you. Everyone is friendly and happy, and the city runs like clockwork. The foundation of the government is based on mutual respect between the leader and its people. It is also built on having a really great mayor that everyone loves who is totally amazing and heroic and brave.

see this is the perfect example of how WV’s whole mayor obsession becomes horribly mischaracterized and Flanderized by comic and fandom. at the heart of it, the quirk is a joke and is played for laughs most of the time, however...

Mayors are so much better than kings. You hate kings and you think kings are really stupid. They are petty, bossy tyrants and are really full of themselves and are basically awful in every way. God do you hate kings.

despite it being painted as silly and goofy, it has an actual place in his backstory and the general plot. he doesn’t just like the thought mayoral duty, he fantasizes about democracy because he has a real personal vendetta against monarchs.

meanwhile later portions of the comic and a lot of fanworks just reduce it to “OH HE LOVE THE CANS!!! THE CITY OF CANS!!! HE LOVE LEADING THEM!!!! HE LOVE HIS SASH OF MAYOR!!!! HE LOVES MAYOR!!!!” and nothing else.

His Fate Has Now Been Sealed.

hi Serenity.

You cannot urinate because you have not had anything to drink in quite some time. You are very thirsty.

THIS IMPLIES CARAPACIANS CAN PISS.

>THIS IMPLIES CARAPACIANS CAN PISS.

THIS IMPLIES CARAPACIANS CAN PISS.

>THIS IMPLIES CARAPACIANS CAN PISS.

what could these planets be???? hmmmm????

the tab key dispenses the Tab soda, genius wordplay Hussianiel.

You free the heavenly brown elixir from the jewels of pink carapace and imbibe like the wind. It is so sweet and sugary. You wonder how so much sugar can fit in one can. Whatever mighty wizard concocted this potion is truly deserving of your fear and respect.

ok I know the joke is about how Tab is literally sugar free but has anyone actually ever drank Tab ever in their entire fucking life??? Homestuck is literally the thing that made me realize it existed. it’s a fucking Coca-Cola product, you’d think they’d be like, somewhere, but no.

The TABS are naturalized as loyal new citizens of CAN TOWN. All cans are welcome and equal in your city, regardless of can content, and whether empty or full.

don’t be racist, be like WV.

such foreshadowing, wizard??? crow??? what could it mean????

a beacon of hope for all of the country of...

chess.

I have no actual idea how chess works so I’m just gonna assume “WV: Lead your men to victory!” is just how an average game goes.

MAIL LADY!!!

MAIL LADY!!!!!!

I think the most impressive part of Homestuck’s wildly ahead of the game foreshadowing is the coordinates, because Hussie chose actual real life places for every kid to live in right down to the address, even Jade’s fictional island is located at a weird visual artifact in the middle of the ocean on Google maps.

Does this machine look like a DEAPPEARIFIER to you?? Honestly, the idea that an APPEARIFIER could both APPEARIFY and DEAPPEARIFY things is so laughably ridiculous, you would wish someone would DEAPPEARIFY your brain and REAPPEARIFY it with a brain that is more smart and less dumb.

I don’t know why but I particularly like how Homestuck’s paradox system creates fuckin weird slime clone things.

OH AND HERE’S WV: ASCEND.

this flash is so fucking underrated, like, oh yeah sure, we have Enter, Descend, Cascade, Collide, Act 7, whatever, but what about this fucking baby? it’s not the insane or intense flash out there, but this shit just lands for me so well. this is pretty much the point where you are hooked, it’s so dense, so much shit happens at once, and all it’s actually important, it’s so fucking good. I love the little things, like the exile stations matching up with each kids’ entry item, the defined locations for where they all live, the history of Jade’s island, it’s just so fucking GOOD.

it also just has really good art.

Explore is such a banger track as well, a fine fucking work by Buzinkai, godspeed.

if there’s 3 people associate with Homestuck music, it’s Michael Bowman, Toby Fox, and Buzinkai, they made all the good shit.

oh yeah and here’s Nanna with suspiciously vast knowledge of future events some dudes who have fancy hero titles, wonder what this means something something foreshadowing something.

y’know, I’ve seen Act 2 and Act 3 kinda blend together when it comes to fan perception, and that’s understandable, they’re pretty similar in their content. I do think Act 2 has enough to stand out on its own though. there’s a lot more absurdity with the guardians, Bro Strider is a man who is fuckin insane and ridiculous in every way that is both horrific and amusing, Dave losing his mind, the man WV himself and his Problem Sleuth styled adventure, fun smaller flashes, and just ENDLESS FORESHADOWING.

I have to say that the biggest change in feelings I got was over all the puppet shit. I used to think it was funny, and, well, it’s still funny, it’s really damn funny how these puppets are just all over the place and exist with their perfectly shaped asses. but also, I think the horror has finally set in for me in regards to just how terrifying these things are, just

the puppets,

everywhere,

all the time,

ass wherever you go.

turn the corner and another technicolor rump is there to greet you.

it’s a house of fucking horrors.

in conclusion, Act 2 is pretty fuckin cool and shit.