#* draws the professors dancing * *draws the professors dancing* *dr

[emberglowfox]

ok but like. what if they were happy 

[lyrashifts]

SCRIPTING IDEAS! ─── hogwarts clubs + extra-curriculars.

BOOK CLUB.

students read books monthly and discuss what they enjoyed, what they didn't, symbolism, deeper meanings, etc. you may script whether books are muggle or magical fiction, as well as what books will be chosen.

THEATER CLUB.

students may audition for roles in specific plays and perform in them. there may also be workshops to improve acting, singing and dancing skills. you may script that you always get lead roles or are a talented actor in addition to this. you may also script in a theater for hogwarts.

MUSIC CLUB.

students may either learn to play instruments or improve their already existing skills. projects may be given to either perform certain songs or compose music. groups may be made and bands can be formed with specific students and friends. you may script that you already know an instrument (unless you want to learn), or that you are a talented singer / songwriter.

COOKING AND BAKING CLUB.

students can learn new recipes and how to make them with and without magic. you can script that students can keep their deserts or at the end of each meeting, members get to try other's foods either for fun or to rank them.

HERBOLOGY CLUB.

students who are interested in herbology and more advanced or intricate aspects of it may join this club. they may learn about more plants and have an opportunity to earn extra credit in herbology for joining this class.

POTIONS CLUB.

students who are interested in potions and wish to explore more complicated potions may join this club. they will create potions and learn about ingredients either brushed over in the curriculum or that aren't included. they may have an opportunity to earn extra credit in potions for joining this class.

MINISTRY OF MAGIC CLUB.

similarly to what might be a united nations club, students may take roles of ministry members and learn more about the ministry in general. students joining this club may be seen as more suitable for a job in the ministry once out of hogwarts. students may also have field-trips to learn about other country's magical governments or to the ministry itself to learn exactly how it works.

LANGUAGE CLUBS.

students wishing to learn certain languages may join language learning clubs! this may be especially helpful if you are already trying to learn a language and want more practice. languages may include whatever you script them to, such as french, latin, greek, spanish, etc.

FLYING CLUB.

as only a limited number of students may join the quidditch team, younger or less talented students may join the flying club for an enjoyable and less strict take on quidditch. they may have games that are not divided by house that are less competitive.

ART CLUB.

students who enjoy more artistic activities, such as drawing, painting, sculpting, and more may join this club. you may work on projects based on the medium you enjoy and receive criticism and help on your work. students may also simply come here to work on their personal projects alongside others.

STUDYING AND HOMEWORK CLUB.

students who wish to study with others or desire help on their work and assignments may join or attend this club. professors will be there to help with anyone struggling and talented students may gain extra credit by helping students with their work and studies.

here are just some clubs i've decided to include in my own dr. if you have any other ideas, feel free to suggest some and i'll do my best to add them!

[joelswritingmistress]

You Scare Me, Professor: Chapter 10

Summary: The reader is taking graduate classes at a local university in the wooded upstate New York. She is drawn to her professor, Dr. Joel Miller, though she is also inherently aware that he has something dark about him that she can't quite put her finger on. As the reader's attraction grows deeper, she has to decide whether to endure the danger or run away as fast as possible. 

Pairing: Professor Joel Miller x f!reader 

I hadn't even realized I slept the entire night uninterrupted until my eyes flickered open upon feeling a gentle brush of my hair. My eyes flickered open and it took me a moment to recognize where I was.

“I'm sorry to wake you.” It took me several seconds to realize Dr. Miller was leaning over the bed, fully clothed and looking as stunning as ever.

“I didn't even hear you get up.” Embarrassment began to take over, leaving butterflies in my core again but he quickly squashed those anxious thoughts.

“Stay in bed,” Dr. Miller encouraged me when I tried to scramble up. “You called out of work, remember?”

I gave a little laugh with an accompanied nod, and his cool smile eased my mind even more.

“My last class ends at two this afternoon.” He nodded toward an open door in the corner of the room. “I left you a couple towels.. some things for a bath.. toothbrush.”

“You didn't have to-”

He cut me off with a firm, closed-mouth kiss and then added, “Make yourself at home. Help yourself to something to eat. I left you a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt to put on.”

It was too much. I was overwhelmed by gratitude as he threw out all the accommodations he had prepared for me while I was still sleeping.

“Thank you.” My lips curled up into a half smile and I pulled him back for another kiss.

“If you need to leave the keys to the truck are on the counter by the fruit basket. The code for the main gate is-”

“2003,” I finished.

A smile spread across his face again. “Good memory.” Dr. Miller kissed me again.. and again. I was tempted to pull him down on top of me but I wasn't about to be selfish and make him late for work.

“Thank you,” I whispered again.

“I'll be home in a bit.”

“Okay.”

“Go back to sleep.”

I agreed but I knew that was impossible. When he left, I laid in the center of his bed completely naked, a bit in awe and in a state of bliss I couldn't accurately describe if I tried. The mystery of the early portion of the night and then the mind blowing sex - they were enough to make me glow a heated crimson color; but the way I was treated the morning after left me swooning.

I turned on my side, gripping the pillow and smiled wide. I was on cloud nine. And then my phone buzzed on the nightstand.

Hoping it was Dr. Miller, I reached for it and felt a small wave of guilt when I noticed the number of missed calls and texts from my roommate. Immediately my thumbs danced across the screen, landed on her name and I hurried to put together a couple of sentences explaining what had happened, leaving out the ‘with who’ part.

For a while I just laid there basking in the experience before finally making my way into the master bathroom to draw a bath. The oversized tub was just too tempting not to indulge in and the warm water rejuvenated my aching limbs. I felt completely refreshed afterwards when I finally tossed on the clothes that were left for me.

Let's see what else this house has to offer.

The two doors nearest the bedroom were still closed and so I left them that way, not wanting to pry. As I approached the home office I gave a generous peek in through the open door and then took the stairs back down to the first floor.

The night before had been such an adrenaline-fueled encounter that I hadn't really soaked in the beauty of the home. From the marble counters, to the flawless, dark hardwood floors to the lavish decor that plastered the walls, it felt like something right out of a movie.

I passed through the living room and kitchen beneath an arched doorway that led into a billiards chamber. The artsy and elegant design from the adjacent rooms was overtaken by another scheme - one that was sportier, though no less ostentatious.

An immaculate pool tab with fine, red felt sat perfectly centered on top of an oversized carpet. The dark, hardwood floors beneath complimented thick espresso pillars in the four corners of the room.

There was a bar off to the left with rows of top-shelf liquor bottles overseeing the layout of the room from their perch against a wall of gray-toned stone. The entire house was a masterpiece.

Beneath an oversized flatscreen on the opposite side of the room from the bar was another arched doorway. I suddenly felt like I was in a live game of Clue.

It was Colonel Mustard in the billiards room with the knife, I joked in my mind. It was a rather cheesy line, though it was absolutely fitting. Had one of my friends been with me I would have said it aloud for a cheap laugh.

Crossing through the next doorway was like a miniature adventure. What would I find next? I had my guesses.

Dim lighting led down a hallway lined with stone. With each step the space narrowed and the vibes of Clue now merged with that of Willy Wonka’s chocolate factory. Would there be a chocolate river at the end? Maybe Oompa Loompas? My thoughts grew sillier and less realistic by the second. 

When my short journey landed me in the center of a small library I wasn't wholly surprised. It was as fitting as the rooms I'd traveled through this far. A lavish miniature castle wouldn't be complete without a personal library.

Awestruck didn't accurately describe the way I was feeling. Dr. Miller had secrets - probably secrets that should never cross the threshold of his lips. The thought was planted firmly in my mind before, though it had grown into a garden of certainty. Professors do not have houses like this.

Still, I smiled. Being in the midst of the romantic mystery made me feel alive and somehow important. The latter was a mystery even to me. Whatever secrets lurked behind the walls of the lavish estate had nothing to do with me. I was basically a stranger in Dr. Miller's obscure world.

Why would he trust me here alone? It was the first time that thought crossed my mind. My suspicions suddenly raised and I wondered now if there were hidden cameras watching my every move. It would make sense. The thought made me think twice about climbing an elegant, old ladder that was perched against the bookshelves. Instead, I ran my hand down the smooth, polished wood as I passed and then explored the back of the room.

Another smile decorated my face as my fingers traced the bindings of Edgar Allen Poe’s, The Tell-Tale Heart. It was fitting, or so I thought. Of all the books I had to land on Poe - the talented penman of twisted, poetic horror. Somehow it still felt like a classy read. Maybe that's why I felt it was fitting for Dr. Miller to have in his impressive collection. On the outside he beamed with grace, though inside I knew there was a darker side. I just wasn't sure how dark that side was.

Goosebumps littered my neck now. I was tempted to pull the book from its place but the far-fetched notion that some boobytrap might suddenly spin me into another room, or trap me somehow prevented me from removing the piece of literature from its hiding place. At that, I moved on from the writings of Edgar Allen Poe.

You are being ridiculous. I was, wasn't I? I wouldn't pull a book from its place because I thought I might transfer to some hidden realm? Was I in a 007 movie? Austin Powers?

My fingers traced the Edgar Allen Poe book again before I moved on to browse the bookshelves. Wandering the estate like this made way for plenty of ammunition should another game of twenty questions arise.

A few books down from Poe I bravely removed a red and yellow book from its place. My active imagination sent that familiar jolt of butterflies to my stomach, though I was immediately met with reality. There was no secret room. No Indiana Jones Boulder falling from the ceiling to crush me. It was just a book - H.H. Holmes: The True History of the White City Devil.

The man on the cover immediately drew parallels to what I envisioned Jack the Ripper to like. He wore a top hat and donned a bushy mustache beneath dark, remorseless eyes. I knew this man was who the author penned as the White City Devil.

A piece of paper stuck out from the top of the book just a few pages in and so I thumbed to that page. My eyes landed on an excerpt and so I began to read a short biographical passage about Mr. H.H. Holmes.

By the twenty-first century, Holmes had entered American folklore as the man who built a hotel out of torture chambers to prey on visitors who came to the World’s Fair and may have killed hundreds of people, making him our first and most prolific serial killer. Holmes had already been known as the “king of criminals” before he’d even been formally accused of murder, but now he was a veritable supervillain.

Serial killer. King of criminals. Supervillain. As I flipped back to the cover to look at the man’s face again I looked at him in an eerier light. The red tint chosen to highlight his face was fitting for that of a proclaimed supervillain.

The paper holding the place of the page escaped the bindings and fluttered to the ground. “Shit.” I didn't want Dr. Miller’s bookmark to lose its place, even if it was just a few pages in.

As I squatted down to retrieve it I saw that the paper was folded with the word, LAYOUT, written vertically, letter-by-letter down the outside. My eyes scanned the room in search of some type of recording device while my curious fingers simultaneously unfolded the paper.

Blueprints? I laid the paper down on the ground in front of me and rested on my knees. In my mind I retraced my steps through the rooms I had crossed through to get to the library. Those rooms, like a Clue board, made up the left side of the paper that was titled in the same bold lettering at the top, MAIN FLOOR.

What I was looking at was a blueprint of Dr. Miller's home. The right side of the paper was titled SECOND FLOOR. I noted the home office, several spare bedrooms, the master bedroom and two bathrooms. Nothing out of the ordinary there. It wasn't until I flipped the bluish, white draft over that my interest piqued.

The basement. My heart rate picked up. I could sense that from the flush of warmth in my cheeks. Each section of the basement was labeled accordingly with squared off areas for a home gym, furnace room, laundry area.. and then there was a giant blank space marked off with X’s and lines that resembled some type of an experimental maze for a mouse to escape. There were no written labels aside from the X’s.

As if I was being possessed by a Ouija board, my finger drew a straight line to a staircase all the way to the right of the page. Like a fiend for adventure I flipped the blueprint over again and tracked the origin of the stairwell. 

“The library.” I actually spoke the words aloud and began to scan the room. Is there a secret door in this room like my suspicious brain presumed?

The floor was my first instinct. I patiently wandered the perimeter of the room in search of a loose floorboard or a square that was cut out that could somehow lead down below into the bowels of the house. When my efforts failed I moved to the walls and even pulled out a few books, beginning with Poe.

Nothing.

I scrambled to the floor again to make sure I was correct, that the stairway did, indeed, lead down into the basement from the library.

There's no doubt. I was looking at it, plain and simple, blue and white. Would I have to remove every single book from its place to find what I was looking for? No. That would take way too long, I knew; and it would create an embarrassing mess. What would Dr. Miller think if he came home to his books sprawled across the floor of the library?

Think. My eyes landed on a few books on the shelves I began to perceive as sticking out suspiciously far. I pulled, I tugged, I pushed in, I yanked out.. but there was nothing. No staircase.

A small bout of frustration crept in as I leaned a hand on the ladder. I rested there for a moment before turning to face the wooden rungs. A bigger part of me felt completely ridiculous and I almost wanted to laugh at myself. Still, I was curious and amused.”

Up. I hadn't thought of going up to essentially get down. Just above the ladder was a snug, little balcony that overlooked the room. In the dark it was barely visible from where I had been standing but now, staring up towards the heavens, it was clear as day. The ladder wasn't just there for show, it had a purpose. For a moment I let my fingers tiptoe along one of the rungs as I pondered what might be up in the balcony.

What am I doing? 

I removed my hand from the ladder and tucked the blueprint back into the book. My eyes scanned the row where I had removed it from, though I wasn't quite sure of it's place.

“Shit..” I whispered to myself, wondering if Dr. Miller had a special home for each individual piece of literature.

That's impossible, I thought, scanning the infinite rows of books in the study. He wouldn't know if a single book was just slightly out of place. Would he?

With a deep breath I tucked the book back in between a Stephen King book and another with navy blue binding and no label on the spine. It worked.. for now.

It's just a book.

I glanced up toward the secret loft again, still tempted to wander into uncharted territory, but I refrained. I was a guest in Dr. Miller's house and I knew I had already crossed some type of boundary by investigating the place, as if I was invited to do so.

When I heard a door open and close from somewhere else in the house I quickly scampered out of the library, down the short hallway and into the billiards room. For a moment I stood still and just listened.

Silence.

I let out a quiet inhale and then an exhale. It was the jingle of car keys that led me out of my hiding spot like a dog with its tail between its legs. And then I saw him, handsome as ever, standing in the kitchen loosening his tie.

At first I wasn't sure if he had seen me tiptoe into the room and so I daintily cleared my throat. Dr. Miller looked up abruptly in my direction and I could tell I had startled him from the look on his face as he adjusted the cuffs on his button down shirt.

He then put his hands on his hips and I wasn’t sure what his reaction would be to me being down there. After such a wonderful night, I hoped he wasn’t mad. And as happy as I was to have him back in my company so soon, I couldn’t help but wonder what drew him back to the house so soon after he’d left.

CLICK HERE FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER

@untamedheart81 @suttonspuds @cesspitoflove @michilandcof @amyispxnk @grogusmum @morallyinept @akah565 @brittmb115 @magpiepills @poodlebae @gobaaby-blog-blog @mermaidgirl30

[ourladyofoldgotham]

nightfall

j. robert oppenheimer x female reader

implied adultery, set during manhattan project

prompt by @forgottenpeakywriter

1.1k words

summary

You meet the illustrious Dr. Oppenheimer at the Los Alamos Christmas party. He asks you for a dance.

Los Alamos isn’t a socialite’s paradise, but looking around Fuller Lodge decorated for the annual personnel Christmas party, they almost could have fooled you.

A band was playing - turns out Los Alamos had a lot more musicians than you had thought - and the soft bustle of the room’s chatter rises up to the tinsel garland draped over the ceiling’s wooden beams. The electricity was always down in the evenings, and the water from the tanker trucks was in short supply, but for tonight, candles and liquor more than made up for it. 

You see him from across the room, standing at the counter. Doctor Oppenheimer is not a particularly loud man, nor a particularly imposing one. Still, there’s an air about him that seems to draw people in. He looks up and meets your gaze from across the room, and his blue eyes in the low light strike you like a bullet. You’ve heard about a million stories about him in the time that you’ve been here - you’ve heard he’s a genius of the highest degree, of course, but that’s practically a given. According to the rumors that flew through the town, he was also a Communist, a millionaire, a homewrecker, and a man that had left a trail of cultish devotion behind him in every university doing any real work in theoretical physics everywhere from Cambridge to California. You hadn’t believed a word of him until you’d met him in person. He seemed to be around every corner, in every lab, his brilliance the undercurrent at every turn. There was a sort of hypnotism that surrounded him, something that you had never seen before. You, like all the rest, were only human. Nobody could help falling under its spell. In the crowd, you lose sight of him.

It’s not until the night starts to draw to a close that you encounter him again. He startles you, tapping you on the shoulder. The light is low, scattering dim light across the wooden floor. The band plays some soft, pretty jazz tune you’re sure you’ve heard before. 

“Are you new to the Hill? I don’t think I recognize you.”

He extends his hand to you, and you shake it. 

“J. Robert Oppenheimer. I’m not sure we’ve had a chance to meet.”

You introduce yourself and his eyes glimmer with a slight touch of recollection. 

“I recognize that last name. Were you at Berkley? Caltech?”

You laugh and shake your head. 

“No, you must be thinking of my husband. He was one of Professor Lawrence’s graduate students there.”

“Of course. I don’t think I could have forgotten a face like that.”

He smiles at you over the rim of his glass. 

“Let me make you a drink.” 

You lean against the edge of the counter as you watch him make a martini, rimmed in lime and honey with extra gin. 

“So where did you go to school? I know your husband works in the E-5 group, but I could swear I’ve seen you in the labs.”

“Harvard - for chemistry, summa cum laude. I wasn’t able to complete my master’s, though - we moved out here just a couple months before I would have finished. I worked under Hornig in plutonium chemistry as a lab assistant for a while, but now I’m just a courier in the library group.”

“Ah, one of Lilli’s plutonium girls. It’s important work you do, you know.”

“What, to drive back and forth from a mailbox all day with a suitcase of old books locked to my wrist like a pack mule?”

He laughs in a way that’s almost disarming, the charismatic Oppie of legend. 

“A pack mule with one of the highest military security clearance levels in the country. It has to count for something.”

He hands you your drink. It’s strong, almost dizzying in the high altitude of top of the cocktails you’d already had. He’s quiet for a moment, his eyes studying you with an emotion you can’t quite decipher.

“Do you recognize this song?”

You shake your head.

“I’m certain I’ve heard it before, but I can’t quite place my finger on it.”

“Ah, of course. It’s quite popular, but it’s not as in vogue as it used to be. It’s called Nightfall - by Benny Carter. I saw him play live once, under Henderson at the Roseland in New York. Quite brilliant men, actually - I believe Henderson was a graduate student at Columbia in chemistry briefly.”

He pauses again, considering something. His eyes flit across the diamond ring on your finger as it wraps around the stem of your glass.

“Has your husband gone home yet? I don’t see him anywhere.”

“Oh, yes, doctor. Hours ago. He doesn’t dance - and he figured I could make it back home on my own.”

“I see. Do you? Dance, I mean.”

“When I can - which hasn’t been often lately. And where is Mrs. Oppenheimer tonight?”

“She’s… She’s visiting her family in Pennsylvania. Los Alamos has never suited her.”

You watch him rub the silver wedding band on his finger, a sudden flash of tension skimming across his face. 

“And what about you? Do you dance, Dr. Oppenheimer?”

The question snaps him out of his reverie, and he smiles softly. 

“Please, call me Robert. And as a matter of fact, I do. May I have the pleasure of this one?”

He extends his hand to you, and you take it. 

“You may.”

He leads you out to the dance floor. He’s old-fashioned, almost gentlemanly - his hand rests delicately on your waist, in classic ballroom fashion. The two of you are practically the only people in the room, now - he leads you in a slow foxtrot around the room. There’s something soft in his eyes when he looks into yours that makes you feel like the only woman in the world.

When the last note of the song rings out, the two of you are standing in the center of the floor. Your head rests on his shoulder, your clasped hands pulled in close. His hand is warm on your waist through the thin fabric of your dress. 

It’s hardly the picture of propriety. The scandal of an affair between the two of you would be enormous. Somehow, you can’t bring yourself to care. Not now - not with him, dancing like this in the cool desert night. The rising moon drips silver light across the floor. With a flick of his hand, Robert signals to the band for just one more song.

couldn't resist the chance to flex my very minor jazz knowledge

[from-the-clouds]

You've been developing a little crush on you econ professor Kendall Roy, but have been trying to not think about it, until you run into him in the wedding of a mutual acquaintance and see him in a suit for the first time. You're seeing a whole new side of him on the dancefloor but you're too flustered to talk to him. You're waiting your turn at the open bar when you hear a familiar baritone voice behind you calling your last name. You turn around and find your econ professor looking at you with an amused lopsided grin on his face. His cheeks are just a little bit red from all the wine and his tie is loose around his neck, the first button of his shirt undone. He stares at you for a while, smiling, but suddenly collects himself and takes on a more serious expression, as if trying to summon back some of that authority he wields in the classroom. But it's too late. You know you're about to make a series of bad decisions tonight.

OMFG yes, i love this idea and so i wrote a little blurb (hope you don't mind)

cw: alcohol mention.

When you see him, your jaw drops just a little bit. It's the last person you'd expect to see here, and you're only used to hearing your name from him when he's about to chew you out in class -- not that you mind, of course, because you sort of like the attention.

"Dr. Roy?" you ask, almost not recognizing him at first glance. You're used to seeing him in plaid blazers with reinforced elbows, or collared dress shirts poking out from underneath his impossibly soft-looking sweaters. Right now, though, he's in a black suit that fits him like a glove, though his shirt is slightly wrinkled, his tie loose around his neck. You don't think you've ever seen him smile the way he's smiling at you now -- sometimes he'll smirk to himself if someone makes a good joke during a class discussion, but he always shuts it down right away and is back to business.

The wedding reception is well underway, and it's supposed to end in fifteen minutes, but no one on the dance floor seems to be slowing down anytime soon, including the bride and groom, which is why you're at the bar for another drink -- you're not quite drunk enough yet to embarrass yourself on the dance floor.

When he recognizes your clear shock and confusion, his face shifts then, smile fading as he looks at you underneath his dark lashes. "You should really be at home, studying for the exam on Monday."

He says it so sternly, that you feel yourself straighten up out of habit. "I uh- well, I-I-" you rack your brain for an excuse, until he breaks out in a smile again.

"I'm joking, please," he steps closer to you, and you laugh nervously. "Relax, I won't bite."

You feel a little bit of anxiety fade, but a different kind of tension now hangs in the air, because you don't think you've ever been so close to him before. Close enough to see that his eyes are hazel -- not brown, like you'd previously thought. And the color of his eyes weren't the only things you thought about.

"I did actually already study," you say softly. "Last night."

"I'd expect nothing less from one of my best students."

"Okay," you roll your eyes. "You don't have to lie."

"I'm serious," he says, still grinning.

"Oh, you are?" you ask, and can't help but smile a little, too. "Because if you really feel that way, you sure have a funny way of showing it."

He takes one step closer, so he can whisper in your ear above the noise of the music. Instinctually, you drift closer to him, bare shoulder brushing the soft fabric of his suit jacket. "Cut me some slack. I'm a highly-respected member of the faculty. I can't play favorites."

"That's fair," you nod. "But I think you like making people scared of you."

"Are you scared of me?" you can feel his breath hit the shell of your ear, and you can't manage to hide the way it makes you shiver. You draw back, and snort. The way he's looking at you -- so focused, so attentive, makes your head spin. But you don't know whether to say no, or tell him the truth. When you don't answer right away, he shakes his head. "Well, we can't have that, can we? What are you drinking?"

"Vodka soda," you say, gesturing towards the bartender who you are convinced is purposely ignoring you. "But I've been waiting forever."

"Here," he says, stepping alongside of you. All he has to do is straighten up, and snap his fingers, and the bartender turns to look at him standing there, nods once before walking over.

"See, even he's scared of you," you nudge your professor playfully. He chuckles, his hand falling to your lower back, and you all-but melt, shifting your weight on your feet so you're closer. You know this is highly, highly inappropriate, but you can't resist.

His touch doesn't leave you, not even after you get your drinks, clink your glasses, and catch him staring at you over the rim of his own. You have his attention, and you aren't going to let it go to waste.

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

hiii

do you know about any looong slowburn sterek fics preferably with smut? optional magic stiles👀

hehe thank you❤️

Hi anon. @kevaaronday made this list for you.

Actions Speak Louder Than Words by isthatbloodonhisshirt (25/25 | 434,625 | Explicit | Sterek) “I apologize.” The cop finally looked back up at his face, seeming thrilled. “It’s just—it’s been so long. And we finally have you.” 

That was a bad word. Not found. 

Have. 

Stiles wrenched his hand free and took a step back, but before he could even think up a gameplan, he felt a prick in his neck and jerked away, reaching up to slap one hand against it and twisting in the same moment. 

One of the others had come up behind him while he hadn’t been paying attention, and his vision began to swim even as his eyes caught sight of the half-empty syringe the guy was holding.

Put Down in Words by paintedrecs (31/31 | 203,776 | Mature | Sterek) “Oh,” Stiles said, his voice coming out low and breathy, “fuck me.”

“I don’t think that’s on the syllabus, but we can check to see if there’s a spot open in any of his classes,” Scott said, grinning.

“This isn’t an actual professor, though,” Stiles insisted, unable to resist brushing his thumb over the sharp line of the man’s bearded jaw. He was laughing at something off-camera, the shot taken in three-quarters view, his coat collar casually rumpled and opened to reveal a sliver of a simple grey t-shirt. The whole thing was deliberately calculated to lend him a more accessible feel, and god help him, Stiles was falling for it.

*

When Stiles signed up for Dr. Hale’s intro to history class, he had two goals: knock out the credits his advisor was bugging him to complete before he graduated, and spend a few hours a week daydreaming about his sexy professor’s salt and pepper beard.

Derek, a few months away from turning forty and not sure when his life had started feeling so damn lonely, had never encountered someone like Stiles before. Bright-eyed, sharp-tongued, determined to throw Derek’s carefully cultivated world into disarray…and absolutely the last person Derek should be falling in love with.

Most (Im)Proper Proposal by Welsh_Woman (72/72 | 200,136 | Explicit | Sterek) Stiles Stilinski has not seen his childhood friend for going on ten years when Derek Hale insists on meeting him in a barely reputable inn to make a rather startling proposal…

The Hollow Moon by thepsychicclam (10/10 | 180,079 | Explicit | Sterek) It's the summer after Stiles' first year of college, and he's working a crappy job and dealing with nightmares and anxiety - but he's okay, he swears. He makes it through most days without too much trouble. Then, a certain werewolf comes back into town. Which Stiles doesn't care about, nope, not at all. 

After two and a half years, Derek returns to Beacon Hills with his small Pack. Though he tried to move on, something just kept drawing him back to Beacon Hills, he's just not sure what. Now, he figures he can start building something like a life - but he keeps getting distracted by Stiles Stilinski of all people.

Teenage Love Song by HaleHathNoFury (26/26 | 155,834 | Explicit | Sterek) Stiles is sick and tired of how much he fucks up. His dad is disappointed, his step-mom judges and his step-brother can do no wrong. It's not that he doesn't love them, he just gets so tired of being different. Now he's being moved lock, stock and barrel to Beacon Hills aka the town his mom grew up in so they can go live in his grandma's house and his father can get him back on the straight and narrow. 

It's going to suck.

B.E.A.C.O.N. by Mythological_Compendium (43/43 | 140,691 | Explicit | Sterek) "What better situation could there possibly be? We'll be pretty much stuck together, we can talk, drink and maybe later even…”

A scoff. “What? Have reunion sex?”

He shrugs. “It's been four years.”

Same Old Song and Dance by Halevetica (91/91 | 125,721 | Explicit | Sterek) Raised in the hunter life after his father was killed, Stiles hates werewolves. So when he lands a contract to kill the alpha of the pack that killed his father, he's elated. Until he runs into complications. The alpha is smart and strong and playing a game Stiles can't figure out. When secrets are revealed and new enemies made, Stiles must decide for himself what side he's on and who he can trust.

Bruises and Bitemarks by orphan_account (27/27 | 121,566 | Explicit | Sterek) Biologically, Stiles is weak. When he presented as an omega, he knew that to be the truth but that never stopped him from running his mouth as a defense mechanism. However, it could only save him so many times before he ended up pissing off the wrong person. After he's attacked in the parking lot outside of school, Stiles realizes he can no longer protect himself with just pure wit and sarcasm. When the attack lands him in the hospital, his dad forces him to pick between two options, report the alphas who attacked him or join a kickboxing gym run by omega rights activist and alpha, Derek Hale, a man Stiles has been in love with for many years.

Strip by Fessst (23/23 | 117,194 | Explicit | Sterek) "Singletail whip. Your favorite, isn't it?"

Red. Stiles felt nauseated as he bent over the bench. Red. The tremble only increased when his wrists and ankles were secured with leather straps. Red. He heard the Dom behind him give a sample crack of the whip in the air. Red. This would likely pierce his skin. So fucking Red.

"What's your safeword?"

Red.

"Stiles?"

"The... the stoplights, Sir."

Stiles's first introduction to the world of BDSM was a complete fiasco. You see, he had a crush on this ridiculously hot Dom and might have slightly exaggerated (ahem, lied blatantly) a few things on his questionnaire. Five years later the two meet again under a different set of circumstances.

A rare Alphahole by Fessst (27/27 | 110,538 | Mature | Sterek) Weed sale goes wrong and leaves Stiles with a dilemma of either facing prison or enrolling himself in Beta Rehabilitation Program for the next 6 months.

Anything beats prison, right?

Well...

Once he finds out that his assigned Responsible Alpha is the asshole who landed him in trouble, to begin with, Stiles is not so sure anymore. Especially since he has to fucking marry the guy! 

the trees call your name by spaceprincessem (2/2 | 107,656 | Mature | Sterek) “That was a long time ago,” Derek finally said, his face falling into its usual cool facade.

Stiles felt like he had been punched in the gut. Two worlds, right? Except, it had never really been two worlds at all. If they lived in two worlds, Stiles wouldn’t feel this unexplainable ache that ran deep in his bones. It had always been one world, with water slipping into the cracks, until there was an ocean between them. Stiles was always caught in the riptides, dragged out to sea where he was left to drown, sinking below the surface as Derek grew further and further out of his reach.

“Yeah,” Stiles agreed, forcing his lips to turn up in the corners, noting the slight crack in his voice, “long time ago."

aka the high school friends to lovers ranch au that no one asked for, but the one that i wrote anyway. This fic is finished, I will just be posting it in two parts!

Far From Any Road by doctorkaitlyn (28/28 | 103,835 | Explicit | Sterek) Stiles Stilinski is a young, chronically sleep-deprived detective who's manipulative and morally dubious at best. He's fairly certain that, in the years since he started working for the California Bureau of Investigation, he's seen most of the horrible things that the world could possibly throw at him.

But that's before a body turns up in an alley in Beacon Hills, brutally tortured, with a symbol burned into its back. It's quickly followed by a second and third, and when Stiles is unable to find any hint as to who the culprits might be, his father decides to bring in some outside help.

His name is Derek Hale, and he too has seen some truly horrible things, only some of them on the job.

Stiles hates him immediately. But Derek may be their only hope for solving the case, so Stiles reluctantly agrees to accept his help. 

As it turns out, neither of them have seen anything close to the depths of human depravity that await them in the woods and down the back roads surrounding Beacon Hills.

All a Pack Needs is a Little Spark by thornconnelly (21/21 | 82,884 | Mature | Sterek) Fork in the road fix-it that basically changes everything starting... an hour before the show actually starts. idk.

Stiles has a premonition that he NEEDS to go into the forest on a random night and saves Laura before Peter can kill her. Stiles doesn't know what he's gotten himself into, but he decides to help out the stray dog he finds in the woods, and then ends up joining a werewolf pack... as their Spark... because apparently he's got magic. 

What ensues is my whole-hearted desire for the Hales to have nice things.

[godsfavdarling]

05 unforeseen adoration

pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!oc

summary: Brittany attends Spencer's class.

list of chapters, also available on wattpad and Ao3, my masterlist

warnings: none for this chapter

words: 2,7k

As Brittany quietly entered the classroom, she couldn't help but notice the myriad of eyes fixated on Spencer. It seemed as though every female student in the room was casting admiring glances in his direction, their gazes lingering on his every word and gesture. 

She made her way down the aisle, her footsteps echoing softly against the floor, until she found a seat in the front row by the edge.

Dressed in black wide-leg suit pants and a short-sleeved shirt with a boatneck line, Brittany exuded an air of sophistication. Her sleek black heels clicked lightly as she walked, and her hair cascaded down her shoulders, with her glasses perched atop her head, keeping the front strands out of her face.

As she settled into her seat, Spencer's voice filled the room, his words captivating and intelligent as he delved into the intricacies of criminal psychology. 

Despite the size of the class, Brittany couldn't shake the feeling that most of the students were here just to bask in Spencer's presence, rather than for the academic content.

Spencer's passion for the subject was evident in every word he spoke, his enthusiasm contagious as he discussed the nuances of criminal behavior and the psychological theories behind it. 

His explanations were clear and insightful, drawing nods of understanding from some students and furrowed brows of concentration from others.

Brittany couldn't help but notice the numerous girls in the classroom, their eyes fixed on Spencer with an intensity that bordered on adoration. 

Some of them shot curious glances her way, their expressions tinged with a hint of jealousy or resentment. 

Brittany couldn't help but smirk at their obvious displays of competitiveness. It was almost amusing how threatened they seemed by her presence, as if she posed some kind of threat to their imagined connection with Spencer. 

She found it hilarious, really, considering their youth and the fact that Spencer could easily be their father. Their delusions were both amusing and perplexing to her.

The class ended and Brittany made her way over to Spencer's desk, a warm smile gracing her lips. She was about to open her mouth to ask him about lunch when a student intercepted.

"Professor Reid," the girl began, her voice tinged with a hint of innocence as she batted her eyelashes, "Could you please explain this concept to me? I just can't seem to wrap my head around it."

Spencer, ever the attentive professor, nodded with a kind smile. "Of course, let's go over it together."

Brittany couldn't help but find the situation amusing as she watched Spencer engage with the student, his focus solely on helping her understand the material. The girl shot Brittany a perplexed look, as if questioning her presence there, but Brittany merely smiled back, thoroughly entertained.

As Spencer finished addressing the student's question and the girl walked away, Brittany couldn't resist making a remark about the peculiar atmosphere in the room.

"Quite the fan club you've got here, Dr. Reid," she quipped, a playful smirk dancing on her lips as she gestured subtly to the numerous girls lingering around the classroom.

Spencer chuckled lightly, oblivious to the underlying implications. "Well, psychology is known to be a predominantly female field. It's not unusual to have more female students."

Brittany raised an eyebrow, her smirk widening as she studied Spencer's oblivious demeanor. 

"Oh, really? Can't you see what's going on here?" she teased, her tone tinged with amusement and a hint of mischief.

Spencer's brow furrowed deeper as he struggled to grasp the meaning behind Brittany's words. "I'm not sure I follow," he admitted, his voice laced with confusion.

Brittany couldn't suppress a chuckle at his innocence, finding his obliviousness rather amusing. 

"Let's just say, your lecture might not be the only thing they're interested in," she teased, a knowing glint in her eyes as she glanced around the room.

Spencer blinked in bewilderment, his cheeks flushing slightly as he finally began to piece together the implications. "Oh... I see," he murmured, a mixture of surprise and embarrassment coloring his features. "I hadn't quite realized..."

Brittany grinned at his delayed realization, finding his innocence both charming and endearing. 

"So, lunch?" she asked, smoothly transitioning away from the topic, her tone light and teasing. "Or are you too busy basking in the admiration of your fans?"

As they settled into a cozy corner of the bustling café, Spencer fidgeted with his napkin.

Brittany noticed his unease and decided to break the tension. "So, you’re not a fan of your fan club?," she remarked casually, a playful glint in her eyes.

Spencer shifted uncomfortably in his seat, a faint blush creeping onto his cheeks. "Yeah, it's... a little inappropriate," he admitted, his gaze fixed on his menu.

"Don't be too modest," she teased, her tone light. "You're a handsome, smart guy who knows how to dress. It's no wonder they're smitten. But you… Spencer, you understand human behavior better than anyone. You know how these things work... These young girls see you, this intellectual authority figure, and they're intrigued. They're just testing the waters, seeing how you'll react... You've got nothing to worry about, really. If anything, take it as a compliment and move on."

He listened intently, her words resonating with him. She was right. He nodded thoughtfully, a sense of reassurance washing over him. 

Spencer shifted awkwardly in his seat, his brows furrowing slightly. "I mean... yeah, stuff like that happens, I guess," he mumbled, his uncertainty evident in his voice.

Brittany smiled warmly at him, her eyes softening with genuine admiration. "Well, it's not every day you come across someone as remarkable as you, Dr. Reid," she said sincerely. 

"You're kind, intelligent, and incredibly talented. It's no wonder people are drawn to you." Her words were filled with sincerity, her admiration for him evident in every syllable.

Spencer's cheeks flushed slightly at the compliment. He glanced down at the table, a bashful smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Thanks, Brittany," he murmured.

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

As Spencer sat at his desk, the soft glow of his laptop screen illuminating the lines of concentration etched into his features, he found himself grappling with the intricate web of the college system. 

It was a rare moment of frustration for someone as well-versed in complex concepts as he was. He sighed.

In the midst of his struggle, the gentle sound of footsteps approached, and Spencer looked up to see Brittany gliding into the room. 

Her presence was like a breath of fresh air, a welcome reprieve from the perplexing puzzle before him. She moved with a grace that seemed effortless, her confidence evident in every step she took.

"Hey, Spencer," she greeted him with a warm smile, her eyes alight with curiosity. "Trouble with the college system?"

Spencer nodded, offering her a small, appreciative smile. "Seems like it's one step ahead of me today," he admitted.

Brittany chuckled softly, a musical sound that lifted his spirits. "No worries, I've got a trick that might help," she offered, her voice laced with assurance as she approached his desk.

"Show me," Spencer said, his voice tinged with anticipation as he watched her expertly unravel the digital maze before them.

With practiced ease, Brittany leaned in closer, her movements fluid and confident as she navigated the complexities of the system. 

Spencer couldn't help but admire the way her hair cascaded over her shoulders, framing her face.

He found himself momentarily entranced by the graceful arc of her movements, the subtle elegance of her gestures, her scent, a subtle mix of perfume and something uniquely her own, enveloped him. 

His senses were heightened, acutely aware of the proximity between them as she was leaning over his desk. 

Her presence seemed to fill the room, her every movement graceful and deliberate. 

Her dress, snug against her curves, accentuated every contour, and he found himself momentarily captivated by the sight of her ample cleavage, his gaze momentarily lingering.

He tried to maintain his focus on the task at hand, but his gaze was inexorably drawn to the enticing sight before him.

Brittany's voice was a soothing melody, guiding him through the intricacies of the college system with effortless expertise.

He was hanging on her every word, his attention divided between the screen before him and the captivating presence at his side.

Despite his best efforts to maintain a professional demeanor, Spencer couldn't shake the overwhelming sense of attraction that pulsed between them.

As Brittany finished helping him, Spencer turned to thank her, a grateful smile on his lips. "Thanks, Brittany," he said earnestly, his voice filled with appreciation.

But before Brittany could respond, her foot slipped, and she began to fall. With quick reflexes, Spencer reached out, his arms instinctively wrapping around her waist to prevent her from tumbling to the ground. 

Their eyes locked in a moment of surprise, their faces mere inches apart.

"Whoa, are you okay?" Spencer asked, his voice laced with concern as he held her securely in his arms.

As they remained locked in their embrace, Spencer couldn't help but feel a rush of emotions swirling inside him. With Brittany's warmth enveloping him, he couldn't ignore the gentle rise and fall of her chest against his, nor the softness of her breath tickling his skin.

Breathless from the unexpected stumble, Brittany nodded, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "Yeah, I'm fine," she replied, her voice slightly shaky.

Gazing into her eyes, he found himself captivated by the depth of her gaze, the flicker of vulnerability hidden within. Her presence felt both familiar and electrifying, stirring something deep within him that he couldn't quite put into words.

His fingers lingered on her waist, the silky fabric of her dress soft beneath his touch. It was a sensation he couldn't ignore, the warmth of her skin seeping through the layers of fabric, leaving him feeling both exhilarated and unnerved.

As Brittany's hands rested on his shoulders, their closeness felt almost intimate.

Spencer couldn't tear his gaze away from her, the intensity of their proximity igniting a fire within him that he couldn't extinguish.

Suddenly Maya entered the office, her eyes widened in surprise at the sight before her. 

Spencer and Brittany stood frozen in their embrace, their proximity far closer than the usual professional distance.

Clearing her throat, Maya broke the tension with a nervous chuckle.

"Am I interrupting something?" she asked, her gaze flickering between Spencer and Brittany.

Spencer quickly released Brittany, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment as he tried to regain his composure. "Uh, no, not at all," he stammered, his voice slightly shaky.

Brittany straightened her dress, her cheeks tinged with a faint blush as she flashed Maya a sheepish smile. "I fell," she explained, her tone light despite the awkwardness of the situation.

Maya raised an eyebrow, a knowing glint in her eyes as she glanced between them. "Well, I'll just pretend I didn't see anything," she remarked with a playful smirk. "I'll leave you two to... whatever you were doing."

With that, she turned on her heel and exited the office, leaving Spencer and Brittany alone once more. 

The air was thick with unspoken tension, their brief moment of intimacy hanging between them like a fragile thread.

As Brittany made her way back to her desk, Spencer couldn't help but feel a residual tension lingering in the air. He cleared his throat awkwardly, shifting in his seat as he tried to shake off the strange sensation that had settled in the pit of his stomach.

"Everything should be working smoothly now," she remarked, her voice breaking through the uneasy silence.

Spencer nodded, grateful for her assistance but still unable to shake off the awkwardness of their earlier encounter. "Thanks," he replied, his voice slightly strained.

He found himself at a loss for words. The memory of her nearly falling into his arms flashed through his mind, sending a rush of heat to his cheeks.

"If you ever need another lesson in catching falling colleagues, you know where to find me…" she teased, her grin widening as she looked at him with playful eyes.

Spencer chuckled nervously, his cheeks flushing as he struggled to respond. "I'll, uh, keep that in mind," he managed, his voice betraying his uncertainty as he tried to regain his composure.

As they both settled into their tasks, the tension in the room remained thick, a heavy cloud that hung between them. Spencer focused intently on grading tests and reviewing students' papers, his attention fixed on the documents in front of him as he worked diligently.

Brittany, sensing the awkwardness, grew weary of the palpable silence. With a determined resolve, she finally decided to break the ice, her voice cutting through the quiet.

"So, any plans for Thanksgiving, Spencer?" she asked, her tone casual yet laced with a hint of eagerness.

Spencer glanced up from his work, momentarily caught off guard by her question. He blinked, surprised by the sudden shift in conversation, before quickly composing himself.

"Oh, uh, not really," he replied, his voice a touch uncertain. "Just planning to spend some time with friends and I’ll visit my mom."

Brittany nodded thoughtfully before another question formed in her mind. "So, when are you heading to Vegas?" she inquired, her curiosity evident.

Spencer paused, a puzzled expression crossing his features. "Vegas?" he repeated, momentarily thrown off guard by the unexpected question. "I, uh, actually don't have any plans to go there."

"Oh, really?" Brittany asked, her eyebrows rising in surprise. "I just assumed... I mean, isn't that where you are from?"

Spencer shook his head, a small chuckle escaping him. "Well, yeah, but my mom's actually here in Virginia," he clarified, a faint smile gracing his lips. "But, uh, are you going to Vegas?"

Brittany's expression softened, a smile touching her lips. "No, not for Thanksgiving. I usually save Vegas for Christmas. Thanksgiving, I'll be right here, spending it with friends. Saves the hassle of traveling, you know?"

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

Brittany stood in the bustling coffee shop queue on Saturday, her breath still slightly labored from her morning run. She took her headphones out, tucking them into her pocket as she waited patiently for her turn. 

Dressed in a sleek black running jacket and matching leggings, she glanced around, lost in her own thoughts.

Suddenly, she felt a light tap on her shoulder. Turning with a flinch, she was surprised to find Spencer standing there, a warm smile on his face. 

He looked more relaxed than usual, dressed in a cozy navy blue sweater instead of his usual formal attire, and with glasses perched on his nose.

"Hi," he greeted, his voice friendly and inviting.

Brittany returned the greeting with a nod, momentarily taken aback by the sight of him in glasses. "I didn't know you wore glasses," she remarked, a hint of curiosity in her voice.

Spencer chuckled softly, adjusting his glasses with a sheepish grin. "Yeah, I usually wear contacts, but today I decided to give my eyes a break."

Before Brittany could respond, her gaze shifted to the two blonde boys with Spencer. One, a teenager, stood next to him, while the other, a six-year-old, was perched on Spencer's shoulders. The younger boy waved excitedly at Brittany, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Also, didn’t know you had…”

Spencer noticed her curious expression and smiled knowingly. "Oh, no. I'm their godfather. I'm babysitting this weekend," he explained, his voice filled with warmth and affection for the boys.

The older boy, Henry, chimed in proudly, "He's our uncle! Don’t worry!" His words were followed by a giggle from the little kid, who nodded in agreement.

Spencer smiled fondly at the boys, then turned back to Brittany. "Brittany, meet Henry and Micheal," he introduced, gesturing to the boys. "Guys, this is Brittany. She's a friend of mine from work."

Brittany greeted the boys with a friendly smile, charmed by their playful energy. "Nice to meet you, Henry and Micheal," she said warmly.

The boys grinned back at her, their faces lighting up with excitement. "Nice to meet you too, Brittany!" they chorused in unison.

As the line moved forward, Brittany couldn't resist asking, "So, what exciting plans do you guys have for the weekend?"

Spencer glanced down at the boys with a grin. "We came in to buy some hot chocolate, and then we're off to the park," he explained, his eyes twinkling with anticipation. "Later, maybe we'll play some board games. We'll see how the day unfolds."

Brittany nodded, impressed by Spencer's thoughtful plans for the day. "Sounds like a fun day ahead," she remarked, a smile playing on her lips.

As they reached the front of the line, Brittany turned to place her order, opting for her usual iced latte despite the chilly weather outside. 

Spencer chuckled at her choice. "Cold coffee, no matter what the season," he teased, shaking his head in amusement.

Brittany rolled her eyes playfully. "Yep, that's me," she admitted with a laugh. "Unfortunately, I have to embarrass myself every year in winter by asking for ice when it's freezing outside."

Spencer laughed along with her, the sound warm and infectious. "Well, at least you're consistent," he remarked, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

[danicadenniss]

DreamWorks Trolls

Branch: Troll Of The Wildglade

Chapter 5: Viva & Clay At The Orphanage Home

During Trolls Brotherhood AU, Clay blamed himself for leaving the forest with Viva, they were kids. They are joined forces with their friends.

Clay running to the church, the doors opened and he when the sun had completely reached its morning peak, it was clear and peaceful, but he ran to the hallway as quickly as he possibly could.

Villager: That's creature just keeps getting weirder.

The children are playing their instruments and they dancing around each others, Abby looked at the paw prints and draw a little troll. Viva walked into the playroom. Clay walked into the room, and seeing a black woman wearing nun clothes with Italian man with light brown hair, green eyes, brown mustache and fair skin and wearing a cream collared button up shirt, reddish brown blazer jacket, brown pants with tan brown belt around his waist, black socks and gray loafers, his name is Dr. Leslie Ferrier who created Maximals, a western lowland gorilla named Optimus Primal, a cheetah named Cheetor, a white rhinoceros named Rhinox and a peregrine falcon named Airazor.

Cady walked into the church and saw her father, she picked Clay up and put him on her carry bag. She walked towards him.

Cady Heron: Dad!

Dr. Leslie Ferrier: Cady! (Hugs his daughter, Clay asked him about he left in the woods 20 years ago and Professor Bruce Davis walked into the church and warned them about Dante Reyes and the Talons Bounty Troll Hunters captured four teal trolls and a gray troll in the valley.) Uncle, what is it?

Professor Burce Davis: Leslie, Gabby, Reyes and his hunters captured the five trolls and take them to the village and someone created toxic chemicals.

Dr. Leslie Ferrier: Who!

Gabby: Afton, he created toxic chemicals to poison all the lands.

Clay: (gasped) No! My brothers are in danger, I have to save them! Before he'll poison my family and my brothers. (held a picture of his family and hug it.) Pop, you're in my heart, I think so fast that I miss you so much, wish me luck, I will save my brothers.

Abby and Travis walked into the church, Father Julius and Victoria Kord were in the meeting room with Abacus talking about not to hunt down trolls and poison all the lands.

Abacus: Victoria, how's could you? Why did Afton create toxic chemicals gas for poisoning the plants and the animals? The trolls and their trollings are safe in the forest until you are planning to poisoned them.

Victoria Kord: Because I raise my hand to make agreements to poison the nature, then the trolls will died in the Talons grasp and then we will destroy the forest, once and for all.

Jennifer Kord: What the hell are you doing Aunt! I want you to stop destroying the whole forest and leave the plants and the animals alone.

Clay: (walked toward the meeting and seemed Victoria asked Abacus to stop the protest. He sneak into the room, he walked quietly) Johnny, Spruce, Floyd, Branch, it's me, Clay, do you guys remember, I'm blaming myself for I left you guys, I was a little kid. Since Papa died for his sacrifice to save me and you guys expect Mom. I need you guys please, can everyone to hear me?

Victoria Kord: (Clay looked up at her with her cat on her lap, as it's hissed at him, Clay gasped) You! How's did you get here? (Clay scream and the cat jumped down by starting to change him, Abby looked down and she trying opened the door.)

Clay: (knocking on the door) I...Must....To...Get...Out of here, right now. (The door is opening, ran to the children. Abby whipped the cat's head.)

Abby Schmidt: (cat meowing) Bad kitty! Don't hurt a little troll, he just scared and worried about the other trolls.

Travis: Mom, sir, madam, a troll is scared and sad about leaving the forest.

Victoria Kord: Trolls are monsters! Who's entering this room. The hunters will be here any minutes. I don't want them to fail them again because you, Pastor!

Abacus Chunch: The boy is right, he is scared and his sadness, he fear losing the other trolls and blame himself for leaving the forest and I want Hernan Reyes and his hunters to stop hunting before he died when the fire started in the forest, they were rescue by the soldiers, I was sent to the hospital and the Glade Clan's leader died from his injury since he sacrifice himself to save the other trolls in the forest, 20 years ago. He needs his brothers for he leaving the forest. (Clay sobbing)

Victoria Kord: Forget! I will never trust you!

Noah Diaz: (he grew up as he wore police uniforms) No! Kord, Pastor Chunch, Reyes and his hunters went to hunt down trolls and I felt scared, I was a little, before the fires explosion in the forest and Reyes were burned to ashes, the trolls' leader died after the battle, it's sacrifice itself to protect his family.

Jennifer Kord: I will not hunt down trolls and he blame himself for leaving the forest during the fire cause explosion in the forest.

Victoria Kord walked out of the church and grabbed her cat, and walked into Afton's lab. At the playroom, the children are playing their instruments, they walked into the playroom. Clay asked Viva about they left the forest, she remembered the night, the hunters attack in the forest and then the fire started in the woods.

Viva: What? Poppy? (gasped) I'm a lost princess! We left the forest, Father and Poppy are out there, and Mother died from her illness. She turned gray and Clay, you and I will save our long lost siblings.

Abby Schmidt: What's wrong? Clay, Vee Vee, are you too okay?

Clay: Hey Abby, hey Travis, I'm feeling sad about Dad's sacrifice himself to save me, my friend, and my family. Mom, Gran Gran, and my brothers are worried about me. We left the forest (sobbing) he died from his injury and I've never go to his funeral.

Abby Schmidt: I'm sorry for your loss, my brother Mike, Garrett, my mommy and my daddy, our aunt Jane took care of us, since mommy and daddy died in the accident, when I was really small, 8 years ago. Janis?

Janis 'Imi'ike: I'm worried about my mom!

Travis: What's happened to her?

Damian Hubbard: Janis?

Janis 'Imi'ike: I got to go! (running away and into the quiet room)

Travis: What happened to your parents, Damian?

Damian Hubbard: My uncle died from cancer, when I was your age.

Viva: Yeah, I see you guys, the hunters got my sister and Clay's brothers were captured by Dante Reyes who's leading them to hunt down the others. We will join forces to save our long lost siblings from the hunters' threats.

Janis 'Imi'ike: What's did you mean? You're a heir and a princess, we will join you guys to save your siblings.

Damian Hubbard: You were born in the woods.

Clay: We're joining forces to save our long lost siblings and let's asked the professor.

Clay: Same D.N.A. but born this way, same D.N.A. but born this way.

Will Clay, Viva and their friends to find the hunters and reunited with their long lost siblings? William Afton will poisoned Branch for their plans.

[tasmpeter]

.˳⁺⁎˚ ꒰ఎ 🩸 ໒꒱ ˚⁎⁺˳ . night shift

one: back in hell

— summary: after pretending to be doctors and teachers for the last forty years, you had grown tired of playing nice. so, when you find yourself in evergreen, you decide to become a stripper. easier access to men, who threw themselves at you, whom you’d then drain of blood. being a vampire isn’t always glamorous. however, when your evil ex boyfriend is in town, murdering innocent women, you are forced to reunite with an old friend (and ex lover) to kill him. but, that cute little Vigilante is so hard to work with, when all you want to do is jump his bones.

— pairings: adrian chase x vampire/stripper!reader , emilia harcourt x vampire/stripper!reader

— warnings: sexual themes (lap dances, stripping, mentions of sex, making out, implied sex, public making out), murder and violence, swearing, implied abusive relationship with original male character. 18+ minors dni

— authors note: lol what’s with me and love triangles, i can’t help it. i still haven’t figured out who the reader will end up with at the end because i love adrian so much, i can’t help but want him at all times lol. so let me know who you suggest reader should end up with! but i’m finally publishing this work in progress i’ve had forever!! i’m so excited. also, female pronouns are used for the reader. reader also has a stripper name/stage name of Roxy and wears a pink wig while stripping. if any of these descriptions are not what you are looking for in a fic, i suggest you don’t read!

masterlist 🩸 night shift masterlist

In the sixty seven years you have been alive, you have been many different people. (Dr. Julie Dano, Professor Kathleen Cooper, Ms. Pamela Brown.) However, you have never moonlighted as a stripper. Being a vampire wasn't easy. You required a lot of blood — constantly — and easy access to men's necks was required in any position you decided on. Being a doctor was the easiest position. Being a stripper was something that never really crossed your mind the last forty five years of being a vampire. You chose safe, respectable, positions and didn't really draw any attention to yourself. You've grown tired over the last forty five years of playing nice.

Evergreen wasn't a place you decided you would call home. You stuck to big cities — Chicago, New York, Los Angeles, Miami — and never stayed for more than ten years at a time. You had been on your way out of Seattle, headed to Portland, when you stopped to get gas in a ghost town. A town that you don't think much of. When you were filling your 1955 Ford Thunderbolt — it was your fathers and occasionally you were grateful you were born in 1957 — when you spotted the flashing neon light across the street. You couldn't help but smirk as you saw the name of the club, The Landing Strip. It has been forty five years since you had real fun, and decided to walk inside.

The club was what you expected from a small town strip club. Velvet carpets, purple neon lighting, a few seats scattered around the pole in the center, and a dimly lit bar. You asked the guy at the bar if they were hiring. (You were grateful you were wearing a low cut tank top and your good push up bra). They hired you almost instantly. (Guess they don't get that many new hires).

You found a cute little two bedroom house on the outskirts of Evergreen, close to the club and the truck stop. When signing the closing papers — you paid cash and the buyer wasn't going to turn down that —, you needed to chose a new identity to go by in the town. (You couldn't be traced, you learned that a while ago. Never give you your real name, and never ever use a credit card). Roxy was slutty enough for the strip club, but tame enough to sign on closing papers.

Staying in Evergreen wasn't what you had planned, but the club paid you handsomely and you were often left alone after that. (The men at the club paid you handsomely. Mainly for you to not gossip to the town that you just gave a lap dance to a married man). They usually never lived long enough to have their reputations ruined.

You weren't sloppy with your eating habits. You chose your targets carefully and with purpose. Married men only on Wednesdays. You only killed men. (Go ahead, say that you are a female justice warrior or whatever. You just had a deep hatred for men as a whole). Sure, maybe you got sloppy on the occasional bad day or shitty customer, but you weren't perfect. (You escaped law enforcement once, and you can do it again).

In any other senario, Adrian Chase would be way too uncomfortable to be in a strip club. It was never his vibe. He never knew where to look or where to keep his hands. (Adrian had only ever been into a strip club once. He declared never again after that). Luckily for Adrian, he was here on Official Vigilante Business. He had been noticing the bodies drained of blood appearing all over town. They usually had a slit throat or a gunshot wound to the head.

When he had been showing the task force photos of the murders, Harcourt immediately perked up. Many years ago and early on into her career, Emilia Harcourt was assigned to a task force designated to capturing The Vampiress. Bodies drained of blood, with slit throats and puncture wounds to the hands, scattered across the United States. Vigilante and Emilia had put two and two together and figured out that the Vampiress must have made home in Evergreen. Emilia spotting your 1955 Ford Thunderbolt in the parking lot of The Landing Strip was just more confirmation on her hunch. Then, young girls started appearing around town, drained of blood. However, compared to the clean murder scenes the Vampiress leaves behind. These were brutal, and bloody, and personal. Emilia knew of your estranged ex husband, whom turned you into a vampire when you were nineteen. The young girls he murdered were reminiscent of you. So, instead of having you be arrested for your crimes, Emilia decided to have Vigilante and Peacemaker bring you to Emilia, in order for her to convince you to help.

You had just finished a very successful set on stage, and were wondering the floor, looking for your meal for the night. Men were calling, whistling, and touching you to get your attention, but none of them looked tasty enough. Then, in your corner of your eye, you spot two men lounging in the corner of the club. One was wearing a red and white latex suit, which you could only assume was Peacemaker. The man next to him was concealed head to toe, a black mask with a red visor hiding his face. He had a lean body and wide shoulders. You wanted to pounce on him based on his body alone. However, you were more curious to what two superheroes/antiheroes were doing at your club. You hesitated, wondering if they found out you were a vampire and had come to kill you — if they could figure out how. Instead, you persisted, desperate for a taste of Vigilante.

"Hey, fellas. What do I owe the honor to for meeting two superheroes?" You asked, making sure to tower over Vigilante. He was slowly sinking deeper into the leather chair. His visor, however, never left your eyes. You wanted to peer into his soul, learn all of his deepest secrets as you drink his sweet blood.

Peacemaker spoke, noticing the staring contest between you and Vigilante, "Just wanted to have a fun night. Saving the city is so hard, you know?"

You giggled, even though you thought he was meathead. A girl has to make a living somehow, "Well, since you boys do so much of your city, I would be willing to forego my usual private dance fee. A way to give back to my community, you know?"

Your eyes were still locked with Vigilante, who had yet to say a word through his black mask. You bent over, giving Vigilante a better view of your cleavage. You ran a manicured finger down the grooves of his suit, teasing him.

"You want a dance, pretty boy?" You asked softly, just enough for Vigilante to hear over the bass thumping throughout the club.

Vigilante nodded vigorously and you giggled at his eagerness. You stood back up and extended your perfectly manicured hand to guide Vigilante to the back. He quickly accepted and stood up. You nodded for Peacemaker to follow you two into the private room. The boys followed you into the back, past drunk men and your giggling coworkers, and entered one of the private rooms.

The two boys sat down in the leather seats that surrounded the room. You slowly made your way over to Vigilante and straddled him.

"You know, I normally don't let my clients touch me, but because you do so much for the community, I'm willing to forgo that rule, pretty boy," You whispered into what you could only assume is his ear. Vigilante eagerly grabbed your hips as you gyrated on his lap to the beat of the music.

"So, when did you get into town? I haven't seen you around before," Peacemaker spoke up a few seats away from you.

You grinded yourself on Vigilante's lap again, "A few weeks ago. I was on my way to Portland, but I stopped here for gas, and I found the cutest house. So, I decided to stay."

You leaned down to whisper into Vigilante's ear again, "You know, pretty boy. I could always give you the address to my house, if you wanted to come over tonight."

Vigilante's head whipped to look at you, as you dragged an acrylic nail down the edges of his mask, "Y-You want me to come home with you?"

You giggled, "Yeah, pretty boy. To give back to the community, you know?"

Vigilante nodded and Peacemaker rolled his eyes, "Do I not get a dance?"

"Sorry, not my type. I'll have to charge you," You said, as Vigilantes hand went to grope your breast.

"Well, fuck this then," Peacemaker said, before drawing his gun and pointing it at you.

Your eyes widened and quickly hopped off of Vigilante, running towards the door. Before you were able to make it to the door, Vigilante tripped you, causing you to fall flat onto your face. You groaned and rolled onto your jack, clutching your head, as you watched the two men tower over your body.

"P-Please don't hurt me! I'm just trying to make a living! I-I'm sorry that I wanted to fuck your friend and not you! You can join! If-If you don't kill me," You begged, trying to maintain your façade as Roxy The Stripper.

"Bullshit. We know you are a vampire, and we know that you have been killing men around town," Peacemaker stated. The barrel of his gun still locked on to you.

"Yeah, Roxy! If that is even your real name!" Vigilante exclaimed, his gun also drawn, pointing at your leg — at least he was being polite about it.

"Dude! It's not, it-it's like her stripper name," Peacemaker said exhaustively, turning his head away from you to look at Vigilante. You took this opportunity to  kick Peacemaker in the shin with your stiletto heel, before trying to stand up to run to the door.

Peacemaker cried out at the stab to his shin, screaming some expletives and calling for Vigilante to grab you. You were almost about to open the door, before Vigilante ran up behind you and clutched your throat with his gloved hands.

"Didn't know you were into the kinky stuff, Vig. I bet you are really kinky, huh?" You quipped, giving him a seductive smirk. Vigilante whispered an apology into your ear, which scared you. It was the last think you heard as a needle dug deep into your neck, sending you to sleep.

When you came to, there was a bag covering your head and you were bound to a chair. You suddenly started regretting your decision on giving Vigilante a free lap dance. The bag was torn off your head and you squinted your eyes to adjust to the sunlight. You were bound to an office chair, still wearing you outfit from the club. You looked at your surroundings, noticing Peacemaker and Vigilante hovering over you, until you locked eyes with Emilia Harcourt. You had a long and complicated history with Emilia Harcourt. One that ended with you almost being arrested.

"Hey, Emmy. You know, if you missed me, you could have just called," You chirped out, giving her a toothy smile.

Emilia rolled her eyes, "You keep changing your phone number, babe. Can never keep track."

Peacemaker and Vigilante shared equal looks of shock and confusion. (Vigilante was very good at expressing his emotions through the mask. God, you wanted to fucking pounce on him).

"Babe?"

"Emmy?"

You spun yourself in the office chair, "Do you want to tell them, or should I?"

Emilia gripped the back of the office chair to keep you from spinning, "Whatever you tell them is going to be wrong."

You pouted your lips, "I can't believe you think so little of our love affair."

Emilia turned her attention back to the men, "Well, I told you I was assigned to a task force that was dedicated to capturing The Vampiress. I, may have gotten a little too close to target."

"Emmy, you fucked me and told me to run because I was about to get captured. I think that's more than a little too close."

You made eyes with Vigilante, who still seemed to be in shock from the revelation, "It's okay, pretty boy. No hard feelings for kidnapping me. I'll still take you home after this if you want."

Emilia and Chris shouted, "No!"

"You are a vampire! You are probably going to kill him," Chris shouted at you.

You pouted, "I wasn't going to kill him! Suck his blood, maybe. But only if he was into it!"

"Whatever! That's — whatever!" Emilia shouted out, running a hand through her short blonde hair in frustration

You smirked, "You jealous, baby?"

Emilia scoffed and rolled her eyes, "Trust me, babe. If I didn't need you right now, I would have let Vigilante kill you tonight."

You frowned and turned your head to Vigilante, "You were going to kill me? I thought we had something special going, pretty boy?"

Vigilante remained calm and his voice seemed deeper than when you spoke to him inside the club, "You were also going to kill me."

You shrugged your shoulders the best you could while strapped down to the chair, "To each their own, I guess. Now, can someone please explain why I'm here if I'm not going to jail?"

"Your husband is in town, it appears," Emilia said coldly.

You shuddered, "Do not call him my husband. Technically, I'm a widow."

"Well, technically he is too. But, that's besides the point. We need your help to track him down and stop him for killing any more girls."

Your eyes widened and whispered. You weren't one to be timid, unless it involves him, "They all look like me, don't they?"

Emilia nodded and gave you a sympathetic smile, "Yeah. I'm sorry, babe. I-I wouldn't ask you to do this if I had any other options."

You gave her a genuine smile, "Thanks, Emmy. Now, can you please untie me. My arms hurt."

Emilia reluctantly untied your binds and you stood up from your spot in the office chair. Vigilante, Emilia, and Christopher were ogling at you as you stretched your arms behind your head, giving them a great view of your outfit. You were still wearing your clothes from the club, a bejeweled bra and a purple thong. You rolled your eyes at the three clearly staring at your exposed frame.

"Did anyone bother getting my stuff out of my locker?" You asked, placing a hand on your hip and slowly peeling off the bright pink wig that you wore when you worked at the club.

The boys stared at you lost again, watching as your real hair cascades out of the wig. How you shook your hair loose, giving them a perfect view of your neck. Emilia sharply smacked the both of them in the head. Peacemaker groaned and began putting up an argument with Emilia. You decided to ignore them and focus your attention back on Vigilante, who was awkwardly standing in front of you, not knowing where to look.

You placed your hand on his chest and grinned at him, “My place?”

Vigilante nodded eagerly again, and you couldn’t wait to attach yourself to him. You never wanted to let him go, “Just to make sure you get home safely, you know. Since I’m a hero, and all.”

You gave him a seductive smirk and laced your hands with his gloved ones, dragging him out the door. You winked at Emilia and Chris before running out the door with Vigilante.

Vigilante scooped you up into his arms. In response, you wrapped yourself around him and quickly made work to expose his bare neck. He seemed to stop for a second, maybe hesitant on if you were going to drink his blood. But relaxed and carried on to the car as you began to suck hickeys into his neck.

He leaned you over the hood of his car and quickly pulled his mask up over his lips, allowing you to attack them with your own. You two were sloppily making out on the hood of his car, in front of Emilia and Peacemaker, who stood in the doorway, watching with awe as you two aggressively made out.

“So, you and the vampire, huh?” Chris chirped up, whispering in Emilia’s ear and he watched Vigilante press kiss his way down your chest.

“Shut it, Smith. Do not tell anyone else about this? Got it?” Emilia grumbled out, turning away to walk back into the office before Vigilante could tear your bra off.

Chris laughed and watched as Vigilante sucked on your breast, “Be here by nine tomorrow! Debriefing!”

Vigilante gave him a thumbs up, not even detaching himself from you, before picking you back up and throwing you into the passenger seat on his Vigilante-Mobile, and speeding off.

[alexadavas]

The Butterfly Who Unfolds Her Wings

A simple, selfless, social butterfly, but an ambitious girl as what they perceive, yes, it is me. I'm Alexa Mae Canaria Davas, 18 years old, a first-year civil engineering student at Pamantasan ng Lungsod ng Valenzuela. I'm one of the Dr. Pio Valenzuela scholars for batch number 26 as well.

To be honest, there's nothing special about me. I'm just a typical girl with a lot of pressure and expectations. Why did I say so? I'm the first, or, should I say, the eldest, child of my parents. I have two siblings who are 15 and 5 years old. I've also been an academic achiever from kindergarten until senior high school. Since I am the first child, I have many responsibilities to fulfill. I don't want to fail. I'm scared of failing in all aspects of my life. It would be my biggest downfall. I don't like being a disappointment to my family or, most especially, to myself. My parents did not pressure me that much. In fact, I'm the one who pressures myself since I expect more of myself. I don't have a lot of talents and skills like others do. But I can sing, dance, and make everyone feel wanted and appreciated. I don't want to see people left behind, since I know that kind of feeling. My hobbies are just reading books, watching Asian dramas, and making some fictional stories or quotes about life if I have free time. During my senior high school years, my professors often praised me because of how I constructed words in every essay or other written activity. I don't know, but I like expressing myself through writing rather than being vocal.

I am an ambitious girl, but honestly, I don't know what career or what I want to become. I want to be successful, but I don't know what my dream is. I have a lot of dreams, but I can't see myself in those fields. One thing that I am sure about is that I want to become a cardiologist if I'm lucky enough. If fate allows me to. I want to pursue being a doctor, but sadly, my parents can’t afford for me to study at any private medicine school. Every decision I made was influenced by other people. To tell you the truth, there's no chance that I decided for my own. Taking the course as a civil engineer is not my first choice. It was my third option. I took the STEM strand as my senior high school academic track at Our Lady of Fatima University. For the sake of improving my mathematics skills, I can draw houses too, but I am not as good as others. My parents and relatives want me to study engineering since that’s the only course they can afford and since I’m just about to study at a state university. They also said that engineering can make me successful too since it is in demand and a high-paying job. Given the factors I have mentioned, I considered just taking civil engineering because it was aligned with my senior high school strand, even though I doubt if I can. Every night before entering college, I silently cry since I know that I can't be an engineer because I'm not that "good" at mathematics. and I have no interest in the engineering field. I know for myself that I will be struggling.

This course is very challenging, and it really affects your mental health. There's been a lot of change for me since I started studying engineering. Back then, it was not okay for me to just get at least a passing score because I am a competitive person. I can't afford a low score or grade. I'm always aiming for a high grade. But now, just a passing grade really makes me happy already. I started to like my course, although I was scared to take it before. This course really taught me to be a risk-taker, to believe more in yourself, to study harder and harder, and that it's fine to cry. This is such a fulfilling course that I don't want to be an irregular student and shift to another course next year. I will strive harder to graduate from this course and be a future civil engineer in the near future. I know I can since I have my family, friends, and God by my side.

Shifting from an online class to a face-to-face class again is quite hard. It seems like a new experience to me to be back in a normal class after almost 3 years of online classes. Most especially, you have to maintain safety protocols, and your actions are limited, unlike pre-pandemic. My coping mechanism with this kind of setup is that I have to socialize with other people, but I am still reminded of safety protocols like wearing a face mask and keeping a social distance. Additionally, I'm teaching myself to do group study with my friends and classmates because I was used to studying alone rather than brainstorming, and I'm starting to build my self-confidence in public speaking after not being exposed to other people during lockdown.

To sum it up from this blog, you know the half-side of me. How I chose what course to take in college and my coping mechanisms during the shift of classes from online to face-to-face. To everyone who will be reading this, I hope I can inspire and motivate you that not all the time, what we dreamed of is really meant for us. We need to see the bigger picture, to be practical, and to transcend the things that limit us from being a better version of ourselves. Let's be risk-takers and not be afraid of what lies ahead.

[fandumb-whimsey]

So. My interest in crafting a variation of Scarecrow that leans into the "violent dancing" aspect aka turning him into more of a physical threat has also somehow spiraled into making him the leader of a fear cult. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

So it all started with some dc wiki perusal and, at the mention of his violent dancing style, the page linked to the wiki entry for drunken boxing. I don't know why this is tbh, but the ideas started percolating. Now, I wouldn't apply any of the styles 1:1 to Jonathan because I don't think it'd be suitable; he wouldn't be like Jackie Chan in the Drunken Master, etc. The general conception, however, is very appealing:

It's unpredictable. Disorienting. Pretty ideal for someone who enjoys dishing out some delicious fear. But one of my fave parts:

I like the idea of him appearing unbalanced even when he's not actively engaged with an adversary. Because someone standing there looking like they could fall over is just a fun and potentially unsettling gimmick. Of course, this would also mean he has killer core strength. As much as I like ghoulishly thin Dr. Crane, this version would have muscle. He'd still be an ectomorph body type though so definitely more wiry and flexible.

Going from there, I started pondering on designs which would facilitate a more active fighter. My idea is very derivative of the Arkham Asylum version followed by TNBA Scarecrow and Arkham Knight designs for vibes. Looser/less clothing, more practical than spooky (unfortunately). My version of his mask is more horror movie to accommodate that. I asked myself what scares me and that's mortality and body horror, so some skull elements were definitely used. I'd love to go more into detail about it but it'd be better to have a doodle to go with my atomic level rambling on design choices. Initially, I veered more towards a medieval executioner feel, but it 1. was before I was like "okay but what if he had a cult" and 2. didn't mesh with the fighting thing. I guess. I kept it though since his look changes with a single article of clothing and it works with the whole life and death theme I have going. I call one look the Shepherd (has a hood, sickle with long handle as a "shepherd's crook" for weapon) and the other the Executioner (mask only, full on scythe mode). This would make more sense with drawings, though I'm not much of an artist. (Ｔ▽Ｔ) I'll still try though. Soon.

I don't know where the cult idea popped up from. Maybe it was the God of Fear comic storyline? Maybe it's all the shitty darksynth with ominous pipe organ and satanic chanting I listen to??? Anyway. The general idea is college professor Jonathan Crane would really like funding for experiments related to fear, but no one is interested. Somehow gets the idea to start some secret society (named something edgy and cool like Eye of the Crow Order) based on, you guessed it: fear! The concept would be making individuals stronger mentally by forcing them to confront their fears. And other philosophical bs. At least on the surface. Jonny boy really just wants willing participants in his experiments but shhhh they don't know that. Induction into the group would involve being injected with a weaker form of the fear toxin or something. With time, more people join in. People who want to get hit with the fear toxin again would prob get subjected to higher dosage or a more experimental variant.

The turning point is after he's fired for, you know, the whole shooting a gun in a classroom thing. He kidnaps those responsible and decides to make a spectacle of their murder during a meeting of the secret society. This causes massive division within the group and a double or nothing scenario; people who aren't cool with murder and craziness obviously bail out, but those completely devoted to the "doctrine" go all in. And so begins the era of Scarecrow and his fanatical cult following.

This version would have no need to hire thugs. He has his "flock" fully willing to carry out his vision. The most committed of them (his "Disciples" perhaps?) are probably those who volunteer for multiple occurrences of fear toxin experimentation (and live through it) which has left them a bit unhinged and probably very dangerous. These are the ones which would likely also get shipped to Arkham if caught. But yeah, the cult angle is great because it adds an element of intrigue (is this otherwise polite Gotham citizen part of his cult??) and it makes Scarecrow a bit more threatening not only to Batman and the Batfam, but to the other rogues. Can't imagine some of the latter would be very keen on dealing with zealous cult members if a team-up was orchestrated.

As for Jonathan, the whole thing starts as a front just to get bodies to experiment on but, after huffing enough toxin over the years, he starts fully believing he is the Master of Fear and deserves to be worshiped over it. ALSO. He has a nice, tidy murder of crows. He gets all of them to mimic the sound of creepy laughter and say "hroo hraa" :)

also also trying not to feel A Way at him calling his followers "lambs"

[fullmoonqueen1024]

Presenting my most popular Oc!

💜💚Zinna Abioye💜💚

Real Name: Zinna Zaria Abioye

Alias/Code Name/Nickname: Jade Panther/ Z

Age: 23

D.O.B: April 19

Gender: Female

Human/Inhuman: Human

Sexuality: Heterosexual

Alignment: Avengers, Wakanda

Mother: Zia Abioye

Father: Zane Abioye

Siblings: 12 Older Brothers

Preferences

Likes (+): Sweets, Spicy foods, Science, Dancing, Cooking

Dislikes (-): Rude people, Sexism, Racism, All kinds of abuse, and Making assumptions or using stereotypes.

Skills: Baker, mixologist, cook

Strengths and Weaknesses

Strengths: Well Trained in Combat, Advanced Technology, Advanced Chemistry

Weakness: Her family, all things cute, Bruce, and sweets

Appearance

What Does Your Character Look Like?: Has very long black hair (doesn't cut it except for the split ends) with a chocolate skin complexion, big brown eyes, and has 3 silver circles under each eye as if it were tribal paint.

What Does Your Character Wear?: Leggings and tank tops

Do They Wear Anything Unique To Them?: Has tattoos of her family names on her left arm and her right arm has the Simba's cub drawing from Rafiki's tree from the Lion King with flowers going down her arm then on to her hand.

What Weapons Does Your Character Have?: Sharped bladed red and gold war fan with the Black Panther crest(From King T'challa), a pure silver and purple moonbeam blade (From Drax), and her lava rock black with blue outline kimoyo beads (From Shuri).

Alliance/Friendships/Teams/Crush

Alliance: All Avengers

Friends: Mostly Avengers

Best Friend: Carter Mason

Crush: ❤❤Bruce Banner/Hulk/Professor Hulk ❤❤

Background Information/Short Bio:

Born into a large family in Wakanda, Zinna was a the only daughter in her family so her dad and brothers would always baby her. Her father is a scientist who works for the royal family and her mother is a teacher for the local schools in Wakanda. She is a very smart child, thanks to the education she received with the royal siblings. Her favorite subject is any kind of science. She got the opportunity to come to America and explore because of the Wakanda exchange program with Shuri. She met the Avengers before the events of Ultron and got along with everyone. She fell in love with Dr. Banner when she was assigned to work with him, but she had seen how he was in a relationship with Natasha. Whenever Natasha wasn't around, Zinna would make sure Bruce would eat, drink fluids, and get plenty of sleep since she deeply cared for the curly-haired scientist.

Other Information:

+ Besides Natasha, she can calm down Hulk whenever he gets angry.

+ Has known Carter since kindergarten

+ Besides her native language (Xhosa), she can speak six other languages including: English, Spanish (taught by Carter), Russian, Japanese, French, and Asguardian (taught by Thor)

Carter Mason belongs to @kawniily

[byneddiedingo]

George Clooney in Hail, Caesar! (Joel Coen and Ethan Coen, 2016)

Cast: Josh Brolin, George Clooney, Alden Ehrenreich, Ralph Fiennes, Scarlett Johansson, Tilda Swinton, Channing Tatum, Frances McDormand, Jonah Hill. Screenplay: Joel Coen, Ethan Coen. Cinematography: Roger Deakins. Production design: Jess Gonchor. Film editing: Joel Coen, Ethan Coen. Music: Carter Burwell.

With Hail, Caesar! Joel and Ethan Coen return to Old Hollywood, the scene of one of their earliest films, the dark horror-comedy Barton Fink (1991), this time to give us what appears to be a cotton-candy fantasia on movie genres. But Hail, Caesar! in its sly way it reveals the grip that Hollywood myth and history have on our imaginations, using parodies of Hollywood genre films not just to send up their absurdities but also to show how deeply they color our dreams. At the same time, it explores Hollywood history -- the hold the old studios had on actors' lives, the role of publicity and gossip in creating and destroying stars, the interaction with politics during the Red Scare of the late '40s and '50s -- and combines it with the parody sequences to create a movie that turns out to be a parody of movies about The Movies, a genre that includes everything from the many versions of A Star Is Born to Singin' in the Rain (Gene Kelly and Stanley Donen, 1952) to, well, Barton Fink. The individual parodies -- the biblical epic, the drawing room drama based on a Broadway hit, the singing-cowboy Western, the Esther Williams extravaganza, the sailors-on-a-spree musical -- are all spot on. But it takes a special audacity -- something the Coens have never lacked -- to send up the anti-communist hysteria that led to the HUAC investigation and the blacklist. The Coens do it by treating the paranoid suspicion that left-wingers were undermining the American Way of Life by injecting Marxism into the movies as if it were real. So we have a communist cell made up of writers who kidnap a movie star for ransom, and another star who defects to the Soviets when the writers row him out to a submarine at night. It's a reductio ad absurdum of Cold War hysteria, as brilliantly handled by the Coens as it was by Stanley Kubrick in Dr. Strangelove (1964). The Coens also tease us by dropping the names of real people into the script. Josh Brolin plays a studio production chief and fixer named Eddie Mannix, which is the name of a real-life Hollywood fixer who kept wayward stars out of the headlines, and he reports to a studio executive in New York named Nick Schenck, the name of the president of Loew's, Inc., which owned MGM. One of the members of the communist cell in the film, a professor "down from Stanford," is called Herbert Marcuse (John Bluthal), the name of a Marxist philosopher popular with the New Left of the 1960s. It's a film of wonderful cameos, including George Clooney as the kidnapped star, Scarlett Johansson as the Esther Williams equivalent, Ralph Fiennes as the director Laurence Laurentz, and Channing Tatum emulating Gene Kelly as the singing and dancing sailor. Tilda Swinton plays the film's competing gossip columnists, Thora and Thessaly Thacker, based on the notoriously powerful Hedda Hopper and Louella Parsons. By making them twins, the Coens seem to have conflated them with the competing advice columnists Abigail Van Buren and Ann Landers, née Pauline and Esther Friedman. Hail, Caesar! got a mixed reception from critics and was a box office disappointment, but I think it's ripe for rediscovery.

[krystalklear21]

2nd of Hearthfire, 4E201 Dear Diary, As the carriage traverses Skyrim's rugged roads, memories of my journey flood my thoughts. Born on the 30th of Sun's Height, fifty years have shaped my life in pursuit of magical theories and Dwemer mechanisms. My mother, Maria Octavius, an esteemed enchanter scholar, shaped my relentless pursuit of arcane truths. Her guidance, a beacon amid the shadows cast by Torbert, a negligent and abusive Nord Battlemage and sorry excuse of a father. Maria, my unwavering protector, shielded me from his malevolence. Tobias, my paternal grandfather, stepped into the role Torbert should have embraced—a father. Their earthly sojourns have since ceased, bidding farewell to Maria, Tobias, and even Torbert in my adulthood. The Imperial City, a cradle of scholarly endeavors, forged my path amidst its corridors of knowledge. Oh, the marvels I unearthed from Dwemer enigmatic constructs, weaving their principles into contemporary magic and machinery. The accolades echoed, mingled with the discordant whispers of skepticism—a melody I've grown accustomed to. Romance eluded me, my focus on enlightenment shunning personal distractions. A solitary figure, ensconced within libraries and Dwemer gears, I found solace. My reflection in the mirror, an unsightly portrayal of excess, spoke volumes about my corporeal existence. A figure not graced by the standards of handsomeness; rather, a canvas painted with the strokes of indulgence and scholarly neglect. Weight, an uninvited companion on this journey, clung to me like the remnants of an arcane experiment gone awry. Yet, in the labyrinthine corridors of wisdom, appearances mattered not. The symphonies of my thoughts drowned out the whispers of societal judgment, leaving me to dance with the profound truths hidden within the pages of ancient tomes and the intricate dance of Dwemer machinery. The Great War's aftermath disillusioned me, seeking refuge in Skyrim's College of Winterhold. Here, I stand as the esteemed professor of Aetherial Physics and Dwemer Engineering, an anchor in this storm of magical mysteries. Sameth and Myvrana, my dedicated proteges, draw inspiration from my teachings. Collaborations with Tarakel, Aicantar, and the esteemed Calcelmo – both revered colleague and rival – elevate my scholarly pursuits. I tread the path of enlightenment, a solitary seeker pursuing the Dwemer's arcane legacy. The carriage heralds a journey physical and metaphysical. Skyrim's frost-covered bosom whispers the Dwemer's enigmatic secrets. Until again, Dr. Otto Octavius Aetherial Physicist and Dwemer Scholar

[formeroklahoman]

The central image on this outstanding “Poster From The Past” is a hand drawn Artwork of a Tiger, a Leopard. a Lion, a Chimpanzee, two Giraffes, an Antelope and several Elephants ALL charging the viewer…. Whoa!! Also in the image are three African drummers. There is a lot going on here and a great deal of detail in the lettering and borders as well. A truly fine piece done by the artist Norman Orr in his very first poster that he did for Bill Graham. His style is characterized by a great deal of detail and precision and he always strove for a high degree of realism in his drawings which enabled him to create images which often seemed to approach what I feel is close to photo realism!

Interesting foot note here…. On the left side of the Lion at the top, If that’s not Carlos Santana, it looks enough like him that he, (so I’ve learned), that he purchase the original Artwork around the time of the concert!

And sooo, It was 53 years ago over at the Fillmore West here in San Francisco, that Santana, Dr. John The Night Tripper, & Luther Allison played four consecutive nights of Dance/concerts Light show for those nights was provided by “Heavy Water”. This is Number #248 in the original BG series and was printed only one time.

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[naturecoaster]

Countdown to Summer Break: Parents, Are You Ready?

Saint Leo University Psychology Professor Offers Useful Tips Countdown to Summer Break: Parents, Are You Ready? By Dr. Tammy Lowery Zacchilli, Saint Leo University It’s hard to believe that summer break is almost here. Students and teachers are finishing those last required exams and taking part in end-of-year activities. Our May calendars have been so packed that we didn’t think we ever would make it through the end of the month. But how many of us are truly ready for summer break and having the kids home for two months? Here are some ideas to help you prepare for summer break and avoid meltdowns or boredom. 1. Consider your own schedule for the summer. I, like other teachers and professors, am fortunate to have summer break with my children. While this can be exciting, this also can lead to additional stress since we aren’t accustomed to being around each other all day. Other parents may not have as much time off, so planning for their children’s summer break may be a bit more challenging. It’s always a good idea to plan ahead. Hopefully, you can also schedule some time off to spend with your children in the summer. 2. Summer is a great time for a vacation or staycation! Some families plan ahead and save money to travel in the summer. I always love road trips with my children. We have driven from Florida to Maine and back one summer and from Florida to Yellowstone National Park and back on another trip. We always travel one way there and a different way back so we can see as many places as possible. We also take shorter trips to Georgia to visit our family. Since we live in Florida, there are so many possibilities for a staycation too. Quick trips to the beaches, parks, zoos, aquariums, or amusement parks can be fun ways to enjoy summer break. 3. I definitely recommend checking out the camps offered in your area. If children stay home all day, all summer long, it can be difficult to keep them from getting bored. Some local elementary schools offer camps throughout the summer to help parents who are working during the break. You also can find camps for all sorts areas such as dance, music, gymnastics, art, etc. We even found a train camp for my son this June. Here is a great resource for summer camps offered in the Tampa Bay area: https://fun4tampakids.com/Camps/Variety-Camps/. And Saint Leo University is hosting camps ranging from athletics to CSI and robotics at https://www.saintleocamps.com/. Just remember that camps may fill up quickly so be sure to sign up as soon as possible! 4. Plan some activities for those days at home. Obviously, we can’t expect to travel all summer or have camps and activities planned every day. That can get expensive! Think about some of the things you did to pass the time during the pandemic. Break out the board games, make chalk drawings on the driveway, make crafts, or paint some pictures with your kids. Encourage them to play outside or check out books from the library. While we cannot avoid boredom completely, there are plenty of things that kids can do to occupy their time this summer. And remember to get out there and enjoy time with them! Good luck and happy summer! Dr. Tammy Lowery Zacchilli is a professor psychology at Saint Leo University. She is the Southeastern Regional Vice President of Psi Chi and associate editor of the Psi Chi Journal of Psychological Research. Zacchilli earned her bachelor’s degree from Kennesaw State University; her master’s from Augusta State University; and her PhD from Texas Tech. About Saint Leo University Saint Leo University is one of the largest Catholic universities in the nation, offering more than 60 undergraduate and graduate-level degree programs and specializations to more than 15,300 students each year. Founded in 1889 in the Benedictine tradition, the private, nonprofit university is known for providing an education to learners of all backgrounds and ages. Saint Leo is regionally accredited and offers a residential campus in the Tampa Bay region of Florida, at education centers, and through an online program for students anywhere. The university is home to more than 103,000 alumni. Learn more at saintleo.edu. Read the full article