#Fast income generation

[marketingprofitmedia]

Make 1K Every Day Fast And Simple Income Generating Proven Strategies for Success

To earn $1,000 every day, adopt proven income generating strategies that yield quick, significant returns. Seek out systems with a track record of financial success and user testimonials.

Making money quickly and consistently is a common goal for many, and reaching a target of $1,000 daily is an ambitious yet achievable objective. A multitude of online opportunities claim to offer the secret to financial prosperity, but discerning the legitimate from the too-good-to-be-true is crucial.

My Best Recommended & Proven Way to Make $100 Daily — Watch THIS FREE Training to START >>

Unlocking The Potential Of Daily Earnings

Unlocking the Potential of Daily Earnings is about turning each day into an opportunity. Imagine adding an extra $1,000 to your bank account daily. Such financial boosts can lead to a significant change in lifestyle and savings. Successful strategies exist. Follow them and you could see your income grow day by day.

Identifying High-profit Niches

Finding the right niche is critical for daily high-income potential. Look for industries with a huge demand but low competition. Do this by:

Researching market trends using tools like Google Trends.

Analyzing profitability through affiliate marketing platforms.

Spotting gaps in markets through customer reviews and forums.

Niches like health, wealth, and technology often promise better returns. Always ensure the niche aligns with your passion and expertise.

The Power Of Compound Earnings

Compound earnings can significantly increase your income over time. The key is to reinvest your earnings. See the power of compounding:

DayInitial Investment ($)Return Rate (%)Total Earnings ($)11,000101,100301,0001017,449

By consistently reinvesting your profits, small gains transform into large sums. Whether in stocks, savings accounts, or reinvestment in your business, compound earnings work.

Strategies That Deliver Results

Want to hit that 1K mark daily? Embrace strategies that work. Focus on tried-and-tested methods to generate income efficiently and effectively. The right strategies convert your efforts into steady earnings. Let’s dive into some powerful avenues for your financial breakthrough.

Leveraging Affiliate Marketing

Affiliate marketing offers a passive income stream. It’s simple: promote products and earn a commission for each sale. Start by choosing a niche you are passionate about. Next, find affiliate programs that fit your niche. These programs give you unique links to share. Share these links on your blog, social media, or email newsletters. When someone buys through your link, you get paid.

Join affiliate networks to find products to promote.

Understand your audience to offer relevant products.

Create high-quality content that adds value and includes your affiliate links.

Creating Digital Products

Digital products have high margins and unlimited potential. Think of ebooks, online courses, and software. They require upfront work but can earn money repeatedly without additional costs. Identify what you’re good at. Develop a product that solves problems or provides knowledge. Market your products online using social media, your website, and other platforms.

Type of Digital ProductDescriptionPotential IncomeEbooksWrite and sell your expertise.HighOnline CoursesTeach skills you’ve mastered.Very HighSoftwareCreate tools that help others.Scalable

Offering Freelance Services

Freelancing lets you capitalize on your skills. Millions outsource tasks and projects daily. Platforms like Upwork, Freelancer, and Fiverr connect freelancers with clients. Whether it’s writing, graphic design, or web development, you can offer services worldwide. Set competitive rates. Deliver top-notch work. Build a strong profile. Sustain a client base that trusts your expertise.

Set up profiles on freelancing platforms highlighting your skills.

Build a portfolio showcasing your best work.

Network to nurture client relationships and get repeat business.

My Best Recommended & Proven Way to Make $100 Daily — Watch THIS FREE Training to START >>

Strengthen Your Online Presence

Want to pocket an extra 1K daily? A powerful online presence is your secret weapon. Dive into strategies that catapult your success. Let’s explore!

Building A Persuasive Social Media Profile

Start with a smart profile picture. It’s your digital handshake. A professional headshot builds trust.

Write a bio that pops. In just a few words, tell your story. Make every word count.

Highlight your skills, what makes you unique.

Update regularly. Keep your achievements fresh.

Engage them. Post content they love. Respond to comments. Keep the conversation lively.

Effective Blogging Techniques

Create compelling headlines. Make them curious. They’ll want to read more.

Know your audience. Write what speaks to them. Solve their problems.

Use short paragraphs. Make it easy to read.

Include images. A picture says a thousand words.

Optimize with keywords. Get found on search engines. But keep it natural.

Call to action. Tell them what to do next. And make it stand out.

Maximizing Passive Income Streams

Earning $1K every day can seem like a dream, but it’s doable with passive income. Passive income streams require upfront effort or investment, but can pay off continuously. They are a key strategy for steady earnings without day-to-day work. Let’s explore some proven methods.

Investing In Dividend Stocks

One powerful revenue source is dividend stocks. Companies pay you just for holding their stock. Here’s how to get started:

Choose established, reliable companies.

Invest in diversified industries for safety.

Reinvest dividends for compounding interest.

Over time, the right portfolio might generate substantial daily income.

For clarity, here’s a simple comparison:

Stock TypeFrequency of PayPotential ReturnsHigh-yieldQuarterlyHigher risk, higher returnsBlue-chipAnnualStable, lower returns

Real Estate Income Opportunities

Real estate is another great way to earn passively. You can earn in two main ways:

Rental properties provide regular monthly income.

Real estate investment trusts (REITs) offer stock-like ease with dividends.

Both ways can help in hitting that $1K daily goal.

Here’s a snapshot of real estate income potential:

Property TypeExpected IncomeProperty ManagementSingle-family homeDepends on locationPossible self-managementMulti-family complexHigher potentialOften requires a manager

My Best Recommended & Proven Way to Make $100 Daily — Watch THIS FREE Training to START >>

Automation And Scaling Up

Embracing the power of automation and scaling your businesses can transform the quest for making 1K every day from a dream into reality. It’s about working smarter, not harder. Leverage these strategies to multiply your revenue streams efficiently.

Incorporating Automation Tools

Time is money, and automation tools save you both. Automate mundane tasks. Discover tools that align with your business goals.

Email marketing software crafts and sends emails while you sleep.

Social media management platforms queue posts for optimal engagement.

Use accounting software for instant invoicing and expense tracking.

Simple integrations bring big impacts on efficiency. Select tools offering comprehensive analytics. This helps you understand what works for your audience.

Expanding Your Income Channels

Expand beyond one revenue stream. Diversify. More channels mean more opportunities to earn.

Start an e-commerce store. Sell goods related to your brand.

Create an online course. Share your expertise.

Explore affiliate marketing. Recommend products and earn commissions.

Each channel should fit your overall strategy. They must also resonate with your target audience. Observe market trends. Adapt and scale these channels as needed.

ChannelPotential EarningsEase of ScalingE-commerceHighMediumOnline CoursesVariesHighAffiliate MarketingLow to HighHigh

Review the performance of each channel. Reinvest profits for further growth. Success in scaling means careful planning and execution.

Adapting For Consistency And Growth

The journey to making 1K every day is an exciting challenge. The key to success lies in adapting for consistency and growth. You must navigate through changes and keep up the momentum. Let’s dive into strategies that can help you stay ahead of the game.

Adaptability In Market Trends

Staying ahead means knowing the market. Adaptability is about making quick changes. Here’s how:

Research — Keep an eye on market shifts.

Learn — Embrace new skills that the market demands.

Innovate — Try different methods to stand out.

Flexibility helps you use new trends to your advantage. It turns challenges into opportunities. Change is constant, and your strategy should be too.

Maintaining Growth Momentum

Growth is essential. Here’s how to maintain the momentum:

StrategyActionSet GoalsHave clear, measurable targets.Analyze DataReview your progress regularly.OptimizeAdjust strategies based on performance.

By setting goals and analyzing data, you make informed decisions. Optimization ensures your tactics stay effective. A strong foundation leads to sustainable earnings.

Frequently Asked Questions

Q. Can I Make $1000 Daily Online?

Yes, with the right strategies, such as affiliate marketing, freelancing, or e-commerce, earning $1000 daily is possible online.

Q. What Are Fast Income-generating Methods?

Quick income can be made through high-commission affiliate programs, dropshipping, or offering in-demand digital services like web design.

Q. Is Passive Income Achievable Quickly?

Building passive income streams like dividend stocks or rental properties typically takes time, but some digital products can yield faster results.

Q. Are There Proven Strategies To Make Money?

Absolutely, proven money-making strategies include investing in stocks, starting a blog with monetizable content, and creating online courses.

Q. How To Start Earning $1k From Home?

To earn $1K from home, look into remote jobs, begin freelance writing or graphic design, or set up a home-based business online.

Conclusion

Embracing these strategies can unlock the door to consistent financial growth. Forget long hours and complex methods; here’s a path to a simpler yet effective income boost. Start your journey towards earning $1k daily — your potential awaits. Take action, refine your approach, and watch success unfold.

Let’s make prosperity your new normal.

My Best Recommended & Proven Way to Make $100 Daily — Watch THIS FREE Training to START >>

Thanks for reading my article on How I Increase My New Website from 0 to 1000 of Daily Visitors Step-By-Step Guide

Affiliate Disclaimer :

This article Contain may be affiliate links, which means I receive a small commission at NO ADDITIONAL cost to you if you decide to purchase something. While we receive affiliate compensation for reviews / promotions on this article, we always offer honest opinions, users experiences and real views related to the product or service itself. Our goal is to help readers make the best purchasing decisions, however, the testimonies and opinions expressed are ours only. As always you should do your own thoughts to verify any claims, results and stats before making any kind of purchase. Clicking links or purchasing products recommended in this article may generate income for this product from affiliate commissions and you should assume we are compensated for any purchases you make. We review products and services you might find interesting. If you purchase them, we might get a share of the commission from the sale from our partners. This does not drive our decision as to whether or not a product is featured or recommended.

Source : Make 1K Every Day Fast And Simple Income Generating Proven Strategies for Success

[kakusboyfriend]

oh the character i see as very aromantic has a love interest? and it was a "love at first sight" type deal you say?

haha oh thats so funny and cute. no its fine. im fine.

[windingpathways]

i swear to god im gonna come back and post pics again soon aaa i just feel like i look SO different with the weight loss from the last few months of health stuff and the fact that i have a little actual length on my hair now and idk im just 😅😅😅i feel weird about it idk so im procrastinating and futzing with my living space and cleaning and making things prettier as an excuse thank u all v much for your patience

[thoughtportal]

Opinion Here’s how to get free Paxlovid as many times as you need it

When the public health emergency around covid-19 ended, vaccines and treatments became commercial products, meaning companies could charge for them as they do other pharmaceuticals. Paxlovid, the highly effective antiviral pill that can prevent covid from becoming severe, now has a list price of nearly $1,400 for a five-day treatment course.

Thanks to an innovative agreement between the Biden administration and the drug’s manufacturer, Pfizer, Americans can still access the medication free or at very low cost through a program called Paxcess. The problem is that too few people — including pharmacists — are aware of it.

I learned of Paxcess only after readers wrote that pharmacies were charging them hundreds of dollars — or even the full list price — to fill their Paxlovid prescription. This shouldn’t be happening. A representative from Pfizer, which runs the program, explained to me that patients on Medicare and Medicaid or who are uninsured should get free Paxlovid. They need to sign up by going to paxlovid.iassist.com or by calling 877-219-7225. “We wanted to make enrollment as easy and as quick as possible,” the representative said.

Indeed, the process is straightforward. I clicked through the web form myself, and there are only three sets of information required. Patients first enter their name, date of birth and address. They then input their prescriber’s name and address and select their insurance type.

All this should take less than five minutes and can be done at home or at the pharmacy. A physician or pharmacist can fill it out on behalf of the patient, too. Importantly, this form does not ask for medical history, proof of a positive coronavirus test, income verification, citizenship status or other potentially sensitive and time-consuming information.

But there is one key requirement people need to be aware of: Patients must have a prescription for Paxlovid to start the enrollment process. It is not possible to pre-enroll. (Though, in a sense, people on Medicare or Medicaid are already pre-enrolled.)

Once the questionnaire is complete, the website generates a voucher within seconds. People can print it or email it themselves, and then they can exchange it for a free course of Paxlovid at most pharmacies.

Pfizer’s representative tells me that more than 57,000 pharmacies are contracted to participate in this program, including major chain drugstores such as CVS and Walgreens and large retail chains such as Walmart, Kroger and Costco. For those unable to go in person, a mail-order option is available, too.

The program works a little differently for patients with commercial insurance. Some insurance plans already cover Paxlovid without a co-pay. Anyone who is told there will be a charge should sign up for Paxcess, which would further bring down their co-pay and might even cover the entire cost.

Several readers have attested that Paxcess’s process was fast and seamless. I was also glad to learn that there is basically no limit to the number of times someone could use it. A person who contracts the coronavirus three times in a year could access Paxlovid free or at low cost each time.

Unfortunately, readers informed me of one major glitch: Though the Paxcess voucher is honored when presented, some pharmacies are not offering the program proactively. As a result, many patients are still being charged high co-pays even if they could have gotten the medication at no cost.

This is incredibly frustrating. However, after interviewing multiple people involved in the process, including representatives of major pharmacy chains and Biden administration officials, I believe everyone is sincere in trying to make things right. As we saw in the early days of the coronavirus vaccine rollout, it’s hard to get a new program off the ground. Policies that look good on paper run into multiple barriers during implementation.

Those involved are actively identifying and addressing these problems. For instance, a Walgreens representative explained to me that in addition to educating pharmacists and pharmacy techs about the program, the company learned it also had to make system changes to account for a different workflow. Normally, when pharmacists process a prescription, they inform patients of the co-pay and dispense the medication. But with Paxlovid, the system needs to stop them if there is a co-pay, so they can prompt patients to sign up for Paxcess.

Here is where patients and consumers must take a proactive role. That might not feel fair; after all, if someone is ill, people expect that the system will work to help them. But that’s not our reality. While pharmacies work to fix their system glitches, patients need to be their own best advocates. That means signing up for Paxcess as soon as they receive a Paxlovid prescription and helping spread the word so that others can get the antiviral at little or no cost, too.

{source}

[sux2be]

feeling mad that i am not the greatest of all time at all of hobbies because i have to add receipts to documents on adobe sign for 8 hours everyday instead of honing the skills that make me feel happy and fulfilled

[beardedllamakoala]

[dduane]

It’s not over yet! May 11/12 aurora watch continues

It was a good night for aurora watchers all over Europe on the evening of May 10th/11th, 2024. Here's a great brief timelapse video sequence from Berkshire in the UK (via @Rainmaker1973 over at the Bye Bye Birdie place).

Among numerous other displays, this particular broad, pink "banner" structure was widely observed across the UK and Ireland around midnight local time / 2300 UT. It persisted, twisting and morphing into a variety of new shapes, for something like half an hour. The night's display as a whole was definitely one for the record books.

The early projections at the NOAA site suggest that the power of the incoming geomagnetic storm will be significantly less on Sunday, May 12th. But the night of May 11th still holds possibilities, as for the time being the storm seems to be holding at the relatively high Kp 8 level (on a scale of 0-9).

NOAA space weather forecasters have observed at least seven coronal mass ejections (CMEs) from the sun, with impacts expected to arrive on Earth as early as midday Friday, May 10, and persist through Sunday, May 12, 2024. 

Here are the early graphic projections for the zone of visibility on the evening of May 11 2024. Please note that (a) these are approximations and estimates, not hard and fast indicators of where the solar wind makes planetfall; and (b) as they did last night, they may well improve over the course of the day as newer and better data reaches the predicting devices and personnel.

The European animated projection comes via ITV (UK) weatherman Chris Page.

North American prediction images come via the Space Weather Prediction Center at the NOAA website. Right now (9:30 PM IDT / 2139 UT on May 11th) the NOAA's evening prediction animation for Europe and North America hasn't been generated yet. This still image (updated 1900 IDT) shows where the auroral viewing zone stands right now. The "likelihood of viewing" for Europe seems to have dropped pretty much into the 30-40% range.

That said, though, it's worth noting that the NOAA earlier issued yet another geomagnetic storm watch warning for 12 May, as the Sun apparently popped off both X-class and M-class flares early today; the effects of those are now in transit toward Earth. So we'll see in a day or so what comes of that. Sunspot region 3664, which has been responsible for all this excitement, is plainly not done spitting out flares just yet.

As regards tonight's predictions, it also remains to be seen whether what we get will be better... considering that last night's displays far outpaced everybody's expectations. I for one am quite willing to be surprised. 🙏

It's also worth noting here that so far today, the Kp index illustrated at the Space Weather Prediction Center's experimental aurora dashboard page—an indicator of the current strength of the geomagnetic storm—hasn't dropped off very much from last night's highs. It'll be interesting to see how this behaves as the day goes on. (ETA 2: image updated 11/05/2024, 2140 IDT)

Other useful resources for those interested in space weather generally, and solar weather:

NASA's SOHO (Solar and Heliospheric Observatory) satellite's "The Sun Now" page

ESA Space Weather Service Network

NOAA (US National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration) Space Weather and Prediction Page

OVATION auroral prediction model from the DSCOVR spacecraft, via SpaceWeatherLive

AuroraWatch UK

[derinwrites]

How can I make money writing fiction?

I'm gonna be straight with you. There is no guarantee that you'll make enough as an independent writer to make it worth your time. You very well might -- I make a liveable wage as an independent writer -- but many don't. Most writers I know also have a job. And luck plays a big part in it.

If you're interested in going forward in spite of this, you have two main options for monetisation open to you, and you are going to have to pick one. I call them the sales model and the sponsorship model, and you are going to have to pick one.

The sales model involves writing stories and selling them to readers. You can put books up on Amazon or Smashwords, sell them direct from your own website, enlist the help of a traditional publisher to handle that for you and let them decide where to sell, whatever -- the point is that your money is made from the sale of books to readers. If you go with a traditional publisher, you're using this model (though they will give you some of the money ahead of time in the form of an advance). Most indie authors also use this model, publishing through draft2digital, Ingram Spark, direct through Amazon, whatever. I've never relied on the sales model and can't give you any advice on how to do this, but Tumblr is full of indie authors who probably can.

The sponsorship model involves soliciting small amounts of money from various readers over time. This is ideal for web serials, and it's what I use. I use Patreon, which is designed specifically for this purpose, but you can use other sites such as ko-fi. This model involves providing regular content for free, with bonuses for those who support you.

"Can't I do both? Sell books and have a Patreon?" You absolutely can! I know several indie authors with a Patreon. I sell my completed books as ebooks and will eventually sell them as paperbacks. But your time and attention is limited, and so is your audience's, and you're going to have to half-arse one of these in order to have enough arse to whole-arse the other. You're going to make a lo of decisions that benefit either the sponsorship model or the sales model, not both. So pick your primary income source early and commit.

I can only advise on writing web serials and using the sponsorship model, so I'll go ahead with that assumption. If you want to make a liveable wage doing this, not only will you need luck, you'll also need patience. This is not a fast way to build a career. at the end of my first year of doing this, I had one single patron, and they were a real-life friend of mine. When I reached an income of $100/month, I threw a little party for myself, I was so happy. It had taken such a long time and was so much work. I reached enough to cover rent/mortgage after I'd been doing this for more than four years. It's a long term sort of career.

Here are some general tips for succeeding in this industry, given by me, someone with no formal training in any of this who only vaguely knows what they're talking about:

Have a consistent update schedule and STICK TO IT

The #1 indicator for stable success in this industry (aside from luck, which we're discounting because you can't do much about that) is having a consistent update schedule. Your readers need to know when the next chapter is coming out, and it should be coming out regularly. Ideally, you should have no breaks or hiatuses -- if you're in a bus crash or something, that might be unavoidable, and your readers will understand if you tell them, but if you're stopping and starting a lot for trivial reasons, they WILL abandon you. You can't get away with that shit if you're not Andrew Hussie, and I'm pretty sure Andrew Hussie doesn't message me for career advice on Tumblr. If you find you need a lot of hiatuses to write fast enough then you're updating too often; change your schedule. A regular schedule is more important than a fast one (ideally it should be both, but if you have to pick between the two, pick regular).

2. Pay attention to your readership, listen to what they want from you

Your income is based on a pretty complicated support structure when you're using the sponsorship model. this model relies on people finding your story, liking your story, and continuing to find it valuable enough to keep paying you month after month. This means that your rewards for your sponsors should be things that they value and will continue to pay for ('knowing I'm supporting an artist whose work I enjoy' counts as a thing that they value, to my great surprise; there's a lot of people giving me money just for the sake of giving me money, so I can pay my mortgage and keep writing for them without needing a second job), but it also means supporting the entire network that attracts readers and keeps them having the best time they can with your story -- being part of a rewarding community. Because this is advice on making money, I'm going to roughly divide your readership into groups based on how they affect your bottom line:

sponsors. People giving you money directly. The importance of keeping this group happy should be obvious.

administration and community helpers -- discord moderators, IT people, guys who set up fan wikis, whoever's handling your mailing list if you have a mailing list. You can do this stuff yourself, or you can hire someone to do it, but if you're incredibly lucky and people enjoy being a part of your reader community, people will sometimes volunteer to do the work for free. If you are lucky enough to get such people, respect them. They are doing you a massive favour, and they're not doing it for you, but to maintain a place that they value, and you have to respect both of those things. My discord has just shy of 1,300 members and is moderated by volunteers. I'd peel my own face off if I had to moderate a community that large. If you've got people stepping up to do work for you, you need to respect them and you need to make sure that they continue to find that rewarding by doing what you can to make sure that the community they're maintaining is rewarding. Sometimes this means taking actions and sometimes this means staying the fuck out of the way. Depending on the circumstances.

fan artists. Once you have people drawing your characters, writing fanfic of your stories, whatever, treat these like fucking gold. Give them a space to do this, and more importantly, give them a space to do this without you in it. Fanworks are a symptom of engagement with your work, which is massively important. They are also a component of a healthy community, an avenue for readers to talk to each other and express themselves creatively to each other. Third, fanworks act as a bridge for new readers. When readers share their art on, say, Tumblr, it can intrigue new people and get them into the story. Your job in all of this is to give them the space to work, encourage them as required or invited (I reblog most TTOU fanart that I'm tagged in on Tumblr, for instance), and other than that, stay the fuck out of their way. These people are vital to the liveblood of your community, the continued engagement of your audience, and the interest of your sponsors. Some of the fan artists will be sponsors themselves; some won't be. Those who aren't sponsors are still massively valuable for their art.

speculators, conversers, theorists, livebloggers, and That Guy Who's Just Really Jazzed For The Next Chapter. Some people don't make art but just like to chat about your story. These people are a bedrock of the community that's supporting your sponsors and increasing your readership, and therefore are critical to your income stream. Give them a place to talk. Be nice to them when they talk to you. Sometimes, they'll ask you questions about the story, which you can choose to answer or not, however you feel is appropriate. They'll also want to chat about non-story-related stuff with each other, so make sure they have a place to do that, too.

that guy who never talks to you or comments on anything but linked your story to ten guys in his office who all read it now. Some of your supporters are completely invisible to you. You can't do anything for these people except continue to release the story and have a forum they can silently lurk on if they want to. But, y'know, they exist.

If you want to focus on income then these are, roughly, the groups of people that you will need to listen to and accommodate for. You can generally just make sure they have space to do their thing, and if they want anything else, they'll tell you (yes, guys, paperbacks will be coming eventually). Many people will fit into multiple groups -- I have some sponsors that are in every single one of these groups except the last. Some will only be in one group. A healthy income rests on a healthy community which rests on accommodating these needs.

3. If you can manage it, try to make your story good.

It's also helpful for your story to be good. Economically, this is far less important than you'd think -- there are some people out there writing utter garbage and making a living doing it. Garbage by what standards? By whatever your standards are. Just think of the absolute laziest, emptiest, hackiest waste-of-bandwidth story you can imagine -- some guy is half-arsing that exact story and making three times what you'll ever make on Patreon doing it. And honestly? Good for him. If he's making that much then his readers are enjoying it, and that's what matters. Still, one critical component of making money as a writer is writing something that people actually want to read. And you can't trick them with web serials, because they don't pay in advance -- if they're bored, they'll just stop. So you have to make it worth their time, money and attention, and the simplest way to do that is to write a good story.

This hardly seems mentioning, since you were presumably planning to do that anyway. It's basic respect for your audience to give them something worth their time. Besides, if we're not interested in improving our craft and striving for our best, what are we even writing for? I'm sure I don't need to tell you to try to write a good story. The reason I list this is in fact the opposite -- don't let "I'm not a good enough writer" paralyse you. The world is full of someday-writers who endlessly fuss over and revise a single story because it's not good enough, it's not perfect, they're not Terry Pratchett yet. Neither was Terry Pratchett when his first books were published. If you're waiting to be good enough, you won't start. I didn't think Curse Words was good enough when I started releasing it -- I still don't. I started putting it out because I knew it was the only way I'd get myself to actually finish something. I don't think it's all that great, but you know what? An awful lot of people read it and really enjoyed it. And if I hadn't released it, I'd have been doing those people a disservice.

Also, it taught me a lot, and based on what I learned, Time to Orbit: Unknown is much better. If I'd never released Curse Words, if I hadn't seen how people read it and reacted to it and seen what worked and what didn't, then Time to Orbit: Unknown wouldn't be very good. And it certainly wouldn't be making me a living wage, because it was the years writing Curse Words that started building the momentum I have today.

And Time to Orbit: Unknown as it is today has some serious problems. Problems that I'm learning from. And the next book will be a lot better.

So that's basically my advice for making money in this industry. Be patient, be lucky, be consistent. Value your community; it's your lifeline, even the parts of it that don't directly pay you. And try to make your story as good as you can, but make that an activity you do, not a barrier to prevent you from starting.

Good luck.

[nurse-floyd]

Let me set the scene:

It's the Vegas Grand Prix, 2023. Lando has his crash, is high as a bloody kite in the hospital. Lando sees his nurse and I'd convinced he's dead bc 'why else would there be a legit angel?'

This is super short and silly but I absolutely adore this request! Thank you <3

P.S. I also love this and it is possibly one of my favourite photos of him! Boy is high as balls.

The red emergency phone rang, signaling an incoming ambulance, and you answered it with a sigh. "Mercy General Emergency Department," you answered as you clicked your pen and got the handover sheet ready to write down the patient information.

"Male…24…high-speed crash into a wall," you repeated back to dispatch that alerted you to the incoming patient, hating that you’d be spending what was left of your shift dealing with someone’s drunken antics or stupidity that had crashed them into a wall.

"How fast was he going?" you asked, not expecting the answer.

"180."

"Come again? 180mph and he’s still alive?" you repeated, not being able to hide the shock. "Do we need blood? X-Ray? Trauma surgeons and blood on standby? No one has called ahead." You suddenly woke up from the usual lull you felt around this time during your shift, your mind suddenly in full trauma mode.

"No, just precautionary checks. Patient is a Formula One driver and has been cleared by track medics, but they want a second opinion at the hospital and some scans in case."

Then it hit you…you followed F1 and had done for a few years. You’d been following the race on your phone during your breaks and knew Lando had crashed out during turn 14.

"Okay. Thank you, have you got an ETA?"

Dispatch relayed the time of arrival that gave you enough time to announce it over the tannoy and for your team to gather in one of the trauma rooms. You also called in security because you knew the press would be vultures all over this.

With the trauma room ready, you all waited for the arrival of your VIP patient. If you were being truthful, you were a little nervous at meeting one of your celebrity crushes but also knew you needed to keep it professional. What you didn’t expect was the goofy look on Lando’s face as he was wheeled on a stretcher into the room.

As soon as the paramedic crew had handed over and you’d transferred him over to the bed, you began attaching him to monitors and got your list of investigations and tests you’d need to perform from the doctor in charge.

The paramedics had clearly dosed him up with the good meds as he stirred in and out of consciousness, his eyes glassy and the goofy smile still plastered on his face every time his eyes met yours.

You woke him up once again, ready to check his pupils and GCS once more when he was a little more alert than he’d been since he arrived.

"Woah…am I dead?" his voice came out slightly slurred.

"The heart monitor beeping next to you would say otherwise," you laughed in reply.

"Are you sure, because why else would an actual angel be standing in front of me right now?"

You couldn’t help another laugh that escaped your lips as you watched him try to focus on you.

"And that would be the morphine," you fiddled with his IV and checked the fluids running before you input a few more things on his chart.

“I don’t think it is…” he slurred once more, “I know an angel when I see one.”

You were about to reply when you looked up from his chart and saw he’d fallen asleep, his head against his chest. You got up from your seat and adjusted his pillows so his neck wouldn’t be even more painful in the morning.

[squidcalamarium]

FINAL UPDATE

The goal has been reached! THANK YOU SO MUCH EVERYONE!!!

PLEASE HELP MY FAMILY

My parents well has, despite everyone's best efforts, has broken completely. There is a leak in the pipes that can only be accessed with heavy machinery cutting through the woods and into the ground, with an estimated cost between 2k and 3k.

My black disabled dad, mom, brother, and their four dogs all live together on my dad's fixed income, which he gets through his disability. between the general cost of living and the disability savings cap, gofundme is the only possible way they can make enough to get this fixed.

With Georgia's current hot spring, and even hotter summer fast approaching, the need for ANY water is increasing. Because the house is so far isolated, there are no neighbors to rely on, no stores to even attempt to walk to, nothing within 20 minutes by car. we are doing everything we can to make sure, for the time being, that they all can shower and fill jugs of water to flush toilets and cook. this is not a permanent solution. Please help us

UPDATE

After weeks of struggle, a plumber that's actually good at his job came out and did a more thorough check.

Turns out the problem was largely ELECTRICAL!! We have water again! All they had to do was replace the burnt out wiring and protective boxes and buy ANOTHER pump!

Because of this, the goal has been changed to just $1,500 to cover the cost of repairs and replacements!

THANK YOU EVERYONE!!

[blockgamepirate]

This is my petty complaint time, this video annoys me SO MUCH and even more so what annoys me is that the latest comment on it is this:

HE TAUGHT YOU SO MUCH BULLSHIT, PLEASE NO, DON'T LISTEN TO HIM

And yes, I've been thinking about this stream for nearly three years now, I've been meaning to go through it to critique Wilbur's arguments, I just never got around to it

Wilbur: "Tubbo, you've created an anti-state capitalist dystopia"

So all Tubbo had explained so far was that his town had a big company that owned two other big companies. Nothing about the government or anything. It's true that one company owning all the major businesses is pretty dystopian, sure, but I have no idea where Wilbur got the "anti-state" thing from, usually capitalist companies are fine with the existence of states, states do a lot of dirty work for the capitalists

Spoiler alert: Tubbo's city turns out to be pretty much a city state so Wilbur is just wrong anyway, not that he ever acknowledges it even when it does come up

Also it's not like corporate acquisitions are completely unheard of in the UK, as far as I know. Admittedly the UK is also arguably a capitalist dystopia but you know what I mean, the concept shouldn't be all that shocking to Wilbur

He's being so dramatic and trying to make it sound like he's caught Tubbo in a mistake or something. He also keeps asking questions and then not letting Tubbo answer properly before taking like one word Tubbo says and running with it

But this is the one that I find the most obnoxious:

T: "I did some research into like economics and stuff and I discovered this thing called UBI, have you heard of it?"

W: "What's it stand for?"

T: "Universal Basic Income"

W: "Yeah, I know about that"

He clearly does not know what UBI is.

It becomes very apparent very quickly:

W: "So you've got universal basic income but then also the rich exist still?"

T: "Yeah! Yeah they do."

W: "How does that come about then,"

T: "So in my mind--"

W: "is this universal basic income different for different people?"

T: "No, no, the universal basic income is better for everyone, just the people who have--"

W: "In order for there to be a 1% that means someone's earning more,"

T: "Yes, someone is earning more"

W: "but that means the universal basic income isn't universal!"

T: "No no no, not everyone's getting paid the same but everyone gets the same to begin with, okay? But then you can build on top of it."

W: "Oh no, you've got a-- Tubbo, you've got a fucking social point system!"

T: "Have I made a social point system??"

W: "Tubbo, you've made China!"

None of what Wilbur says makes ANY sense here. The only explanation I can think of is that he didn't know what UBI was, made an assumption that it just meant "everybody gets paid the same amount of money" or something like that and then just spoke fast enough that Tubbo couldn't correct him

Tubbo is correct here, Tubbo knows what he's talking about, but he can't out-speak Wilbur who is just throwing so much bullshit out of his mouth that there's no time to even respond

So, UBI means that everyone in the society gets a regular payment of a specific amount of money that's the same for everyone regardless of their life situation (and generally a requirement would be that it has to be enough to live on, altho people do like to water this down a lot...) This would be completely irrelevant to your wages or salary or capital gains. You can choose to either live on the UBI or you can just do the regular capitalist things to earn extra money on top of the UBI

Obviously I'm not one of those people who think that UBI would solve all of world's problems, I mean I am an anarchist and all (and not an ancap either), but it's literally just a very streamlined welfare system. That's all. It would probably be a lot better than the current models we have but it's not fundamentally different. There's nothing particularly weird about it, the point is just to make sure that everyone has enough money to live on, in every other regard it's just normal capitalism

Wilbur completely misunderstands the whole thing (because, again, he does not know what UBI is so he's just trying to imagine what it might mean based on what Tubbo is saying) and jumps immediately to something he apparently has heard of, which is the Chinese social credit system, which has nothing to do with UBI. In fact I'm pretty sure it also doesn't actually have anything to do with income either, or at least not directly, so I don't think Wilbur knows what the social credit system is either

He's literally just talking in buzzwords

Like if you actually wanted to make a leftist critique of Tubbo's city, you could, don't get me wrong. But instead Wilbur keeps insisting that he's made a social point system despite Tubbo trying to explain why it's not that at all

Wilbur just keeps yelling over Tubbo until his own chat turns against him and finally Tubbo himself also kinda gives up

And from there Tubbo also kinda just starts playing into the bit and just lets Wilbur direct the whole conversation, the rest of it is just them getting more and more into the roleplay. Wilbur keeps talking about the state pension plan, even though Tubbo already tried to explain that it's part of the UBI (this actually is how UBI is supposed to work, it does indeed streamline most of the welfare spending! Obviously you can still raise questions about that (I can think of a few at least) but Wilbur didn't let Tubbo explain so I have no idea what Tubbo actually had in mind)

I could try to go through all of what Wilbur says here but it's just too much, so maybe some other time. Although to be honest there are so many other streams that I probably should talk about instead that some fans unfortunately took a bit too seriously because they assumed Wilbur knew what he was talking about

My point here is mainly that just because someone sounds really confident and knows a bunch of buzzwords doesn't mean they know what they're talking about.

[afeelgoodblog]

The Best News of Last Week - May 15, 2023

🧲 - Magnetic Marvels: Researchers Flip the Switch on Depression

1. New Zealand Government announces prescriptions charges will be free.

The $5 prescription fee at pharmacies will be scrapped in July. This is set to save about 3 million people a year money, and in particular 770,000 people aged over 65. It will make most prescriptions in New Zealand free.

Free access to medicines is also hoped to ease pressure on the over-burdened health system by helping people get medicines sooner.

2. Platypuses return to Sydney's Royal National Park after disappearing for decades

Platypuses have been relocated to the Royal National Park in Sydney, after they disappeared from the park's waterways about 50 years ago. A joint project by the University of New South Wales, NSW National Parks and Wildlife Service and the World Wildlife Fund has reintroduced five females to the Hacking River, with a group of males to follow next week.

3. 74-year-old musician Otis Taylor gets Denver high school diploma decades after being expelled for hair

A musician who was expelled from a Denver high school over 50 years ago received his diploma. Otis Taylor was kicked out of Manual High School in 1966 because of his hair. This was decades before laws ending racial hair discrimination. Denver Public Schools wanted to right a wrong.

4. Researchers treat depression by reversing brain signals traveling the wrong way (with magnets)

A new study led by Stanford Medicine researchers is the first to reveal how magnetic stimulation treats severe depression: by correcting the abnormal flow of brain signals. Powerful magnetic pulses applied to the scalp to stimulate the brain can bring fast relief to many severely depressed patients for whom standard treatments have failed.

The FDA-cleared treatment, known as Stanford neuromodulation therapy, incorporates advanced imaging technologies to guide stimulation with high-dose patterns of magnetic pulses that can modify brain activity related to major depression. Compared with traditional TMS, which requires daily sessions over several weeks or months, SNT works on an accelerated timeline of 10 sessions each day for just five days.

5. Electricity generation through solar, wind and water exceeded total demand in mainland Spain on Tuesday, a pattern that will be repeated more and more in the future

The Spanish power grid on Tuesday tasted an appetizer of the renewable energy banquet that is expected to flourish in the coming years. For nine hours, between 10 a.m. and 7 p.m., the generation of green electricity was more than enough to cover 100% of Spanish peninsular demand, a milestone that had already been reached on previous occasions, but not for such a prolonged period.

6. RI Senate passes bill making lunch free at all public schools

Free lunch for all public school students in Rhode Island is one step closer to becoming a reality.

Tuesday night the Rhode Island Senate overwhelmingly passed a bill by a vote of 31-4 that would do just that. If the companion bill in the House were to pass, that takes effect July 1. The bill would make breakfast and lunch free for all public school students in the state, regardless of their household income.

7. Critically endangered red wolf pups born at North Carolina Zoo

The North Carolina Zoo in Asheboro celebrated the arrival of “not one but TWO litters” of the world’s most endangered wolf – the red wolf – in late April and early May.

A total of nine pups were born – three to parents Marsh and Roan, and six to Denali and May – the zoo announced on May 9.

----

That's it for this week :)

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Buy me a coffee ❤️

Also don’t forget to reblog.

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[lightwing-s]

𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏𝐒

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐯𝐢 ; 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐦

pairing: jason todd x fem! reader

summary: It was a normal night, till he had to look for you. And then, the storm began.

rating: 18+ (MDNI)

word count: 8k warnings: pregnancy, talks of abusive parents, mentions of abortion.

a/n: as Jesus is reborn, so am I! Happy Easter to everybody that waited so long for this chapter to come out. I'm sorry it took me so long, but I got so busy this past month that if I hear anyone say 'illicit trade' or 'online trafficking' I might kill somebody lol. I hope this chapter compensates for the time, though. It is mostly Jason's pov, with references to the reader as she/her rather than you because I thought it might sound better. Idk, lmk if it's weird lol.

a/n 2: also, I can't begin to thank everyone for the incredible support in this series. I've got so many messages that had me on the verge of tears with happiness and how sweet they were. I trully hope I'm capable of continuing to bring you guys joy through this series and other stories. I love you all, and thank you so much for allowing me to finally let my ideas become words, and my words to have meaning

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! ♡

links: previous ; next ; series masterlist ; general masterlist

A cold shiver ran up Jason’s spine. The soft breeze coming off the opened fridge climbed up his shirtless torso, drying the sweat on his skin and leaving it cold and sticky. The nearly freezing water slid down his throat, giving him the refreshment he craved for after a long session of training, and an even longer day of work.

It was finally over. His session, his day, his week. Saturday couldn't have come sooner. Sighing in relief, he refilled the water bottle, shoved it back into it’s previous place and turned on his heel heading for a much needed shower. He was tired. Drained. And all he wanted to do was drop down in his bed and sleep for a whole entire night.

Picking out his phone from his joggers’ pocket, he took one last peek at the screen. Almost 10:00pm, and a weather report of an incoming rainstorm soon. Perfect, he thought. He loved to sleep to the sound of rain. So, he locked his phone, threw it on the sofa, and rushed to the bathroom, hoping to get a shower before it got too cold, leaving fast enough to get to bed before the raindrops started to fall.

He stripped down his pants in front of his mirror, a quick stop to admire his progress. Chest, arms, and back. All proof of his hardwork and commitment. And yet, a reddish mark by his neck was what really caught his attention. Roy had poked fun at it earlier, but his joke couldn’t be farther from the truth. A bug bite, as simple as that. An allergic reaction to a stupid bug. But that stupid reaction, that stupid mark, brought him back to the last time something like that was left on his skin.

Yn had left with countless marks after that brief session in a stranger’s office. Enough to last him a while. But not more than the first time he had you, right under the same roof he was at now. Marks on his neck, on his chest, arms, and back. If he thought too long of it, he could feel her lips warming his skin, making his mind go crazy, and his blood to boil.

Shaking his head, he tried to keep those thoughts away. It wasn’t time. It wasn’t appropriate. Yn was now the mother of his child. Nothing more than that. He couldn’t keep the thought lingering. So, sliding the glass door open, he entered the shower, hoping to wash away all the thoughts off his mind.

As the cold water hit his shoulders, relief spread to his entire body, even if the chilling weather of the start of fall was not the most adequate for such water temperature. Sinking his head under the cascade, he closed his eyes, mind emptying, and peace reaching him after a long and rough week.

It was silent in his head. But it wasn’t enough.

He couldn’t wash his mind off of Yn. It was first the night he had you over, and under him, moaning his name repeatedly in his ear.  He remembered how soft her skin felt, how light was her touch, and yet he couldn’t forget the burning pain her nails had left on his back. 

He drowned in the memory of her intoxicating smell, and how the skin under her ear tasted sweet. For a moment, even through the freezing water, he swore he could feel her blood catching fire running through her body, warming him along the way through their skins, glued to one another, tangled in each other, in a night he would never forget.

And then came the memories of the second time. How annoyed she was, and how easily she gave in to him. It was like her body responded to his, knowing it was only him that could give him the pleasure she craved. He missed the feral, animalistic, feelings of that afternoon, and how she fit perfectly around him.

Stop, he thought to himself, opening his eyes to the bright room. This isn’t okay. But again, it was already too late. His throbbing cock rested against his lower abdomen, hard and leaking. He smelled his arousal mixed between the smell of his soap, and his hand reached for his tip, light touches already driving him insane. Resting his hand on the cold porcelain tile, he allowed his eyes to close again.

And then, he remembered the picture. Sent to him just a few hours earlier. It wasn't dirty. On the contrary, it was as innocent as one could be. It was her, playing along with a baby toy, those usually overpriced, but that could distract even a grown adult. And thus she was, distractedly playing with the toy as a picture was snapped without her acknowledgment, and probably sent to him without her knowing either. Her barely visible smile caught his eyes immediately. 

For the almost six months he had known her, it wasn’t a sight he got to see often, but that had been gracing his presence much more frequently now. It was beautiful. To him, it was art. Pure and soft. Bright and warm. He could watch it all day. He remembered the first time she smiled at him, in his kitchen, over snacks and laughter. Just before he had her pinned under him in the most intense lovemaking session he’d ever had.

He cursed himself. How could he turn an innocent picture into fire for his wet dreams? But how could he stop thinking of the soft skin of her neck, almost the focus of that picture, when it was exposed right there just for him to see? How could he stop his mind from wandering when it had been so long he had been with anyone? When he had been with her.

Only a few touches brought him his high, spilling all over his wall like a firetruck. Gosh, he hasn’t fucked anyone in so long it was almost pittyful. Feeling himself grow soft, he sunk himself in the water again, washing his face ferociously to wash the shame away. He wasn’t religious, but he prayed he could keep you out of his mind. He couldn’t keep doing it. Things had changed. It wasn’t appropriate. Fuck.

He walked to his bedroom with only a towel wrapped around his waist. Straight to his closet where, after a few minutes of searching, he found the new pair of sweatpants he had gotten. Gray like all others he owned. Putting it on, he returned to the kitchen, threw himself on the sofa, and prayed, while watching the darkened ceiling, that he could keep her out of his mind.

Soon closing his eyes, the darkness and the tiredness sank him into sleep. Letting go of lights and noises coming from the outside, he allowed the quietness to embrace him. However, his peace didn’t last long.

Underneath him, he felt the incessant vibrations of his phone, even if he couldn’t seem to find the device anywhere. It was just as the phone had stopped that he found it hidden between the pillows, and he unlocked the screen to a scary surprise. 

Yn 6 Missed Calls

“What the fuck!” he screamed out loud, worry slowly creeping up his chest, weighing it down and making it hard to breathe. 

She didn’t call him. Never. Not one single time. He was the one to always call and message to check if she was okay, or to start any conversation. Something must have happened, and going by the sheer number of times she had tried to contact him, it wasn’t good. Quickly unlocking his phone, he typed on the notification, calling Yn back straight away. She didn’t take long to pick up.

“Yn, what happened?” he questioned as soon as she picked up.

“Oh, thank god!” He heard from the other line, but the voice wasn’t hers. “Jason, It’s Vanessa here. Nessie. Yn’s friend.”

“H-hi, Vanessa,” he greeted through his wavering voice. “What happened? Where’s Yn?” he inquired. He wasn’t only met with silence from the other line, although Vanessa’s tense breathing indicated she was still on the call. With a demanding voice, he asked one more time, “Vanessa?”

“Jason…” She took a deep breath. “Yn is gone.”

It felt as if a heavy weight pulled his heart down, as it dropped lower than it ever had. Yet, his mind was empty, none of Vanessa’s words making sense to him. Yn was gone. Gone where? Why? Where was gone? He had so many questions, yet only once made it out of his lips.

“What?!” his voice faltered.

“She’s gone. I don’t know where to.” Vanessa’s voice too was shaky, and seemed to be holding back tears from falling down. “I heard everything through the walls but I was too afraid to go out and find him, because he scares the shit out of me. He’s really huge, you know, he could easily knock me down if I tried to help her,” Vanessa was rambling, and he could hear her incessant steps, as if she couldn’t keep herself still. “And they were fast too, by the time I got the courage to come out they were already gone, and…”

“Vanessa, calm down,” he requested, already fishing for a t-shirt and shoes from his bedroom. Whatever it was she was trying to tell him, it was worrying. Had someone taken her? Why?

“ ’m sorry. I-I just… I got her phone by accident. She accidentally left me with it when she handed me her shopping bags. So I’ve tried calling you ever since.” 

“Are you at home?” he asked and got a hum in responde. “I’m coming over, okay? I’ll be there in a second. But who took her, Nessie, please. Who was it?”

“No one took her,” she started to explain, pausing for what sounded to be a glass of water. Jason too prepared a glass before he left. “Her dad kicked her out. He found out she was pregnant.”

“He did what?!” he nearly screamed on the line, blood beginning to boil. He hadn’t heard much about her parents, but taking by how shaken about the pregnancy at first, he had no doubts they were partially responsible for her nervousness.

“He found out she was pregnant and kicked her out of her apartment,” she repeated. “Well, technically it’s his apartment, he pays for ever- But it doesn’t matter now. She’s gone and we have to find her! She was crying, a lot, and she left with only a backpack and a small suitcase. She can’t have taken much…”

“And it’s going to rain,” Jason added, already sitting in his car after flying down his building’s stairs. It wasn’t just rain, but a storm. She can’t be out in a weather like that, I have to find her. “Wait for me downstairs. I’ll be in front of your apartment in just a minute. I promise we’ll find her.”

“Vanessa!” he screamed at the girl standing on the sidewalk, looking left and right before turning to face the voice that had just called her. Jason had parked by the entrance of the building, fancy enough to have its own doorman and a beautifully decorated lobby behind its glass front doors. “How are you? Have you got any news?”

“I’m fine. At least trying to. And no news of her yet. I tried looking up and down the street, but she’s not around here anymore.” She looked at him apologetic, eyes now evidently holding back a pool of tears.

“She can’t have gone far. She was walking, right?” he asked, looking around at the still fast moving traffic on that grim Saturday night. The sky was starless, and heavy clouds filled it instead.

 “I’m so sorry, Jason,” Vanessa apologized, making him turn. Her chin trembled as her tears fell from her brown eyes. “I heard it all and couldn’t do anything. I’m so, so sorry.”

“Hey, Nessie,” he tried to soothe her, calling her by the familiar nickname he so often heard coming off Yn’s lips, and wrapping her in a friendly hug. “It’s not your fault. There wasn’t much you could do. But, please, tell me everything that happened. I’m still trying to understand it.”

Breaking off from his hug, Nessie ran her hands up and down her arms in search of warmth before looking up to meet Jason’s eyes. “Her dad is an asshole.” Oh really?, he thought. “We were coming back from the mall, you know. I sent you the picture while we were there.” He nodded. “When we arrived back her door was open, and it usually means that her parents are around. So she shoved me all of her bags before her mother could snoop in and claimed they were for my cousin’s baby shower. Before I knew it, there was screaming outside and when I went to look, her mother was weirdly pacing around and Yn and her dad were nowhere to be found.

“I thought of running down the stairs, but the elevator was already on the ground floor and I knew I couldn’t make it on time. So I just looked down the window and saw him pushing her into the streets. Her bags as well. I couldn’t understand what he said, but he was still screaming at her. Jason,” she called him, but his attention hadn’t gone anywhere. “She looked so scared, even from that far. I could see her crying, on the floor, and walking down the street. I heard movement, so I hid back in my apartment. I even heard a knock on my door, but I was too scared to open and just started calling you.”

Jason’s rage slowly grew as Vanessa continued her story. How could anyone treat family like that? He couldn’t picture treating his mother, father, or any of his siblings like that. And he specially could never imagine doing something similar to his own daughter. Whoever that man was, he wasn’t a father. He was a fucking monster he wanted to beat up so bad…

“Since she moved here for college he keeps trying to take her back to their hometown, because he says Gotham is a corrupt city and that it will “corrupt” his “baby” daughter,” Vanessa continued her story. “From what she told me, they frequent this church, and he’s seen as this “model citizen”. A joke, let me tell you. He was always controlling of her and her sisters, and they couldn’t ever walk out of line or it would ruin it for him, whatever he meant.

“I’m not sure if it’s up to me to tell you this, but it's not the first time he kicked a daughter out of home. He found out her sister kissed another girl at a party and threw her out. I guess having an unmarried pregnant daughter does the same to him and he kicked Yn too.

“I swear,” Jason ran a hand on his face. “I can kill this man.”

“Get in line. Although I do think you have more chances than me,” she tried to joke and Jason let out a dry laugh. He really could kill that man. With every single word from Vanessa, he only got worse.

A few drops of water hit his head, announcing the rain he eagerly waited for earlier was about to start. “We have to go before the rain gets heavier. She can’t be on the streets in a fucking storm.”

“I called a friend to help us look for her. He’s just by the corner. We can split up and find her quicker,” Nessie informed, waving her hand at a car that parked just before the two of them. She fixed her belt in the passenger seat while Jason rested his forearms on the window.

“You go down the street and look for her south. I’ll go north and look for her there. Nessie, please call me if you…”  he instructed the guy when exalted voices caught his attention. Coming out of the glass doors of the modern apartment complex, a large man and his wife walked out of the building in a loud exchange, aiming for the taxi that had parked just behind Nessie’s friend black SUV. “Is that him?”

The sudden change in his tone frightened Vanessa, and she stood quiet for a while until she responded with quite uncertainty, “Y-yeah.”

In that moment, Jason’s knuckles turned white from how hard he gripped on the car’s window, and his face turned a bright shade of red. Letting go of the car, Vanessa’s scream wasn’t enough to stop him from stomping in the pair’s direction, not even her repeated attempts to hold at his wrist. He shook her hold easily, legs moving fast as he eyes were set on the man responsible for all of this.

Jason exhaled a trembling breath through his nose, and he could hear his own heart thumping in his chest. His arms hung as hard as stone to his sides, and his nails dug deep into the skin of his palms. There were a few blurry sports in his sight, and his eyes burned with anger. He was seeing red, both figuratively and literally, as the neon lights of a store close by shone brightly in shades of scarlet, painting the man’s frame in its bright colors.

The large frame of the man was closer. The bald spot in his head, now much more visible. He didn’t know the man’s name, nor how looked. They never shared a word, or even a glimpse at each other. But Jason knew, oh he knew, that he would never, ever again, let him step a foot close to his girl. He would never treat you like he did, and he would pay for it even if it came little by little. 

That man would never get close to his child and its mother, and he would make sure he remembered his name. Or the feel of his punch.

“Hey!” Jason called him with a loud growl. The old man turned in his direction immediately, unaware of the fist flying into his face.

The man all but fell to the ground with a loud thud, as his wife screamed in despair. His rage not vanishing after he knocked the man down, Jason climbed on top of him, throwing punches left and right to the man’s face and stomach, until he felt his hands aching and he was pulled away from him by two pairs of strong arms.

“Stop! Jason, let go!” Vanessa screamed as he squirmed in the two men’s arms, wanting to go back to the man who failed to sit up while his wife cleared his bloody lips.

“Get over it, mate. Let’s find her,” said Vanessa’s friend, and just then he let it go.

His hand shook as he held the steering wheel. Knuckles bloodied and in throbbing pain. He still drowned in adrenaline from the well beat up he gave Yn’s excuse of a father. Vanessa’s friend, Dale, had followed him to the car to make sure he was alright to drive, but Jason assured him he was fine. The man got what he deserved, and Jason was glad he was the one to deliver it.

Alone in his car, however, he could finally allow his emotions to come out. As he drove up the opposite direction of Dale’s car, a loud scream left his lungs. Pure rage evaded his body, as his eyes burned with tears he hardly fought against. 

Why is it that when it comes to us it is always so messy? Why can’t we catch a break?, he thought. From day one, everything with you was confusing, borderline stressful most of the time. He wanted better, quieter and more peaceful days. If he was having a hard time with all that is happening, he couldn't fathom how she’d be doing right now. And the baby. It certainly wasn’t healthy for the baby.

The lights became blurry as he tried to wipe the tears away, and he had to slow down his car to not cause any unwanted accidents. With the lower speed, he could more carefully watch the sidewalks, the remaining open stores, and street corners, all looking for any sign of her. At a traffic light, red made him stop, and his eyes roamed his surroundings.

However, the blinking lights of a ‘C’ were what trapped his attention. It was a clinic. An abortion clinic. He had to swallow dry as he tried to watch its inside through the glass door. The mere idea of Yn going by it making his heart drop. If that idea ever crossed her mind, he didn’t know, but he prayed it never did. He grew attached to it too quickly. To the baby, and to her. He’d been planning, purchasing, painting and drawing a future in his head, where the two of them would be a part of. He wasn’t sure he could let it go.

When the lights turned green, his foot pressed hard on the throttle, speeding out of there before he got even more nauseous. One street turned into another, and another, and another. Still not a sign that you were around. He was growing more and more desperate as the rain got heavier and heavier. If his hands weren’t hard glued to the steering wheel, they’d be trembling tremendously. It had been long since he’d felt like this. Alone, lost and desperate. A sense there wasn’t much else he could do, and that all he did didn’t seem to work. And as every single second passed without you there by his side, his anxiety  multiplied by millions.

The rain now poured, as if the sky was about to fall down. People rushed around, their umbrellas doing nothing to shield them from the water, and coats and jackets getting drenched as they looked for shelter. He was driving desperately, looking for anything, any sign, any indication that you were safe. He checked his phone for messages from Vanessa, or a call from his brothers he had begged for help.

Dick had called his colleagues, giving them Yn’s description, asking them to keep an eye out. Tim and Stephanie were looking for you in every camera they would hack in the city, and Damian was probably begging rats and insects to lead him Yn’s way.

A lighting strike hit the ground and illuminated the sky. And then he saw it.

Hidden in the darkened entrance of a now closed store, sat on the floor, curled down in a corner, was a girl. A bright orange suitcase laying beside her, a blue backpack resting on her side, as she had her face shoved between her knees. Shaking, from cold and tears. A girl that couldn’t be anyone but you. 

He stopped the car without thinking. Without caring if there was anyone behind him on the road. He just wanted to get to you. Stepping out, he felt the rain soak his head and his shirt, but he didn’t care. All he cared about was that he’d found you. Shouting into Gotham’s dark and gloomy night, he called her name and rushed to your side.

Her head bobbed up as quickly as he ran, and it searched around for the voice was coming from. When she realized it was him, she pulled herself up from the floor swiftly and into Jason’s arms, tangling her own around his waist and letting her face fall into his chest. Her tears soaked his shirt quicker than rain had done, and she shook in his hold and her loud sobs filled Jason’s ears.

His heart broke in one million pieces. The sight of her crying once again, too much for him to handle. He couldn’t even care for the harsh way in which she had slammed against his body, he was just glad you were there. Safe and in his arms. Thus, he held closer and tight, one hand caressing her nape and he left soft kisses at her temples. 

“Hey, hey,” he cooed. “I’m here, okay? I’m here. You don’t need to cry anymore.”

Vanessa and Dale didn’t take long to arrive, but Yn didn’t stop crying even after they arrived there. The two girls, tangled in a tight embrace, cried on each other’s shoulders and the rain dropped as heavy as their tears did. Jason, on the other hand, tried to dry his eyes without anyone noticing, wiping the sleeve of his shirt on his face and turning away.

“You gave that man a good punch out there,” Dale’s raspy voice began by his side, bringing his attention away from the walls. “I would’ve done just about the same if it was my girl who was kicked out like that. Your girl should be happy she has you.” He tapped Jason’s shoulder, that way boys always do, and Jason let out a chuckle.

His girl. Yn was as much his girl as he owned the moon, and yet, he couldn’t make himself correct him.

“I just hope she will be fine.”

“I’ve heard she’s a strong one,” she chimed.

“Yeah!” he agreed with a smile. “My girl really is.”

Watching the two girls, he noticed Vanessa wipe Yn’s tears away, pushing her away then bringing her back into another hug that made Yn give out a teary laugh. She seemed to have calmed down, as no more tears ran down frenetically down her cheeks and her breathing seemed to have eased. Jason, then, decided to walk closer, with the other man trailing just behind. Yn soon took notice, as she gave him a smile as he approached.

“Are you gonna be fine?” Vanessa asked, rubbing a hand over her arm.

“I don’t know,” Yn answered. Her voice was weak, hoarse and fragile. “I don’t have anywhere to go.”

Jason noticed her chin restart to tremble, and he was about to hug her again if Vanessa wasn’t closer and quicker. Over her friend’s shoulder, Yn’s teary eyes caught his, staring at him sadly. Pulling away from the hug, Vanessa made an offer.

“I can make some space in my apartment for you. It isn’t big but I guess I make it fit, right?”

Giving her friend a soft smile, Yn appeared to agree.

“No!” Jason protested, louder than he had hoped. “I have a spare room. I was planning on fixing it for our baby, but you can stay there. It’s yours. Besides, it would be more practical,” he explained. “I can easily take you to appointments, or even for work. I wouldn’t mind. And when the baby arrives, I can help you with taking care of it.”

He eyed Yn hopefully. “C’mon. I’m the baby’s dad. I wouldn’t be right if I didn’t help you out.”

“I just don’t wanna be a bother,” Yn said.

“Yn, you could never bother me,” he stated.

Staring at her, Jason waited expectantly. He knew she was weighing every option and considering every mild detail. But he just wanted her to say yes. He wanted to have her near. It wasn’t just convenient, it was necessary. To him it was. To have her close meant to always know if her and the baby were alright, safe and taken care of. He wouldn’t worry if she had arrived home, or if she had gotten sick at work. He would know. Because he would be there.

Yn took her time thinking, while Jason agonized in his spot. He had built too much hope in such a short amount of time, he was scared of how he would be if she didn’t accept his proposal. After all, he was just the stranger she was having a baby with, not her best friend. But a response came out, eventually. Nodding shortly, Yn offered him a smile and a watery stare. A stare that said everything she didn’t need to voice, but that he caught anyway. Thank you.

“I’ll miss my neighbor,” Vanessa cried out, and hugged Yn tightly by her side.

“I’ll miss you too, nugget,” Yn returned. “But I’m sure Jason won’t forbid you from visiting me.”

“Would I even have the chance to?” Jason asked playfully.

“No!” they replied in unison, bringing out laughter out of the four of them. Even though the rain progressively got worse, finally, the mood had lightened.

Vanessa offered her jacket so Yn could get in the car without getting wet, and Jason was about to take her bags when Dale stopped him before he moved. “Take care of your girl, I’ll take the bags.”

Nodding in gratitude, Jason instead moved to your side. “Did you manage to get a lot? I mean, out of your apartment. Into your bags?”

Yn only shook her head.

“I can ask Mr. Emmons for the spare key and pick up some of your stuff,” Vanessa said, walking beside her. “He loved you, I’m sure he’d make that exception for you.”

“Are you sure?” Yn asked. “I really don’t wanna bother anyo…”

“Yn!” Jason and Vanessa scolded in unison.

“I’m sorry,” Yn let out a soft laugh. “If you want to, I won’t complain.”

It was past midnight when both Vanessa and Dale left Jason’s apartment. With them, four trash bags full of Yn’s stuff were brought in, and thus started Yn’s moving process. The girls worked on taking notes of everything that had come in the bags, and of everything there was missing. Vanessa was going to play dealer for a few days, and weirdly, she was very excited for it.

While they worked on the bags, Jason and Dale took a look at the spare bedroom. It was nearly empty, except from a few gym items and boxes laying around. With the other’s help, Jason cleared out the room, sweeping the floors and the spider webs off the walls. Also, he made a promise to find her a bed, somewhere. No one cared enough for dinner that night, and the pair left as nonchalantly as they had arrived.

“You can stay in my bedroom tonight. I’ll take the sofa,” Jason explained, once the two of them were alone. “At least until I can get you a bed.”

“It’s okay,” Yn reassured, and left him alone to take a shower.

While she readied to go to bed, Jason made sure he picked up everything he would need to sleep in the living room out of his bedroom. He didn’t want to bother her by coming in and out of it while she was there. He knew she was going to be uncomfortable enough for today, this new arrangement requiring time to get used to. So, he changed into comfortable clothes, prepped his makeshift bed with pillows and blankets, and waited for her to come out of her shower.

The faint water noises coming from the bathroom mixed with the storm sound coming from outside, creating a relaxing atmosphere he was grateful for after all the stress he’d gone through. He could only hope Yn felt as calm as he did now, that she wasn’t hiding any tears from him in her shower. But he knew it was asking for too much, she was not going to get over it this easily. She had cried a lot in the car ride to his apartment, and when he passed by the bathroom door he could hear her sniffles.

It killed him to see her like that. He’d do just about anything to make her stop hurting. Sat on the sofa, he thought about everything in his reach he could possibly attempt to do to ease her pain, but none of them were possible this late at night. However, as soon as the door opened and Yn came out, her hair wet and fresh smell spreading through the whole apartment, his thoughts emptied out to just her.

“I guess I’m going to bed now,” she shyly stated. Jason simply nodded, too stunned with how she looked in just a plain t-shirt and pajama shorts to form any coherent sentence. “Goodnight, Jay.”

“Good night, Ynie,” was all he said as he watched her close his bedroom door behind her.

“And Jay,” she suddenly reopened the door calling out for him. “Thank you for letting me stay here.”

Her soft smile was genuine, adorable, and made his stomach spin. In normal circumstances, he’d have told her she didn’t need to thank him for anything. Tonight, though, he didn’t want to argue.

“You’re welcome,” he offered her a gentle grin. But I’d make this your home even if you had yours.

Upon his return to solitude, he hoped the sounds of the night would lull him to sleep. He was tired, and on any other night he’d have dozed off easily. However, tonight wasn’t the case. Even if he closed his eyes, even if he was curled up comfortably, he couldn’t seem to fall asleep. He continuously rolled and rolled until he got tired of trying. So he fished for the remote in the total darkness of the room, and turned on the TV, the volume on the lowest, to see if anything in there could make him sleepy.

He had found a cartoon. One of those late night, highly inappropriate ones, and actually found it to be mildly entertaining. But the creaking sound of the door was more interesting. Lifting his head slowly to look over the back of the sofa, he found Yn peeking out of his bedroom.

“Can’t fall asleep?” he asked, and she just nodded. “Come here.”

Sitting up, he made some space for her to sit  beside him, making sure he left her with the softest pillows. Adorably, she sat down and immediately pulled her legs up to her chest, hugging it protectively, and resting her chin on her own knees.

“What are you watching?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly. However, his attention was now far gone from the TV. “I just put it on to distract me. See if I could fall asleep to it.”

Moments of silence followed. Yn’s focus on the cartoon, while Jason was fixed watching her. She looked so serene, it didn’t even look like she had just been kicked out by her own father. He wanted to ask her if she was alright, but he feared she would get mad with how much he had asked it since they’d arrived home. He also wanted to hug her, feel the comfort of her warmth and maybe fall asleep to it, but he knew it would be too much for one single day. So, he was content with the light brushes he’d get on her skin.

“Nessie told me what you did to my dad,” she said suddenly, and Jason got nervous about what she thought of it. It was still her dad, even with all the pain he had caused. He was afraid she’d be mad at him for it. So, he had to explain himself.

“He deserved it,” he quickly added. His throat was dry, but he still insisted. “He deserved it for what he did to you. I could not…”

“I get it,” she broke him off. “It just… feels weird. I’m glad you did, but also not.”

He understood.

“I was mad at him at some point, and thought of doing it myself. But he is my dad. I don’t think I could do it if it ever came to it. Even if I collected all the anger I harvested throughout my entire life, I couldn’t lift a finger against him.”

Her head moved, now facing him with her cheek laid on her legs. Her eyes were intense, but sad. Glowing, but it wasn’t happiness.

“I get it,” he told her. “I really do.” And he continued to look at her till it gave him courage to finally ask. “Was he this bad your whole life?”

She shook her head. “He had his good moments. Few, but they were there. We just had to be doing something he’d actually be happy about.”

“He’d always make us take the classes he wanted. Go to places where he liked to go, and where his ‘friend’ could see him, you know, boast about how great his family was. Even our friends he got to pick. They had to be from church, and from rich families. People we could fawn over, grow attached to like vines. I guess he thought if we were friends with them, he would become friends with the parents, and what better than rich friends for you to parasite, right?

“I don’t even know how he let me come to Gotham in the first place. He made my sister marry young so she wouldn’t go away for college, so I don’t know how he didn’t try that on me too. I mean, he did try, but none of the guys were actually interested in pursuing me for him to insist on it… What?” he questioned when she heard him scoff.

“Why wouldn’t they be interested in you?” he let out before he knew it. Yn shyly hid her face from him before continuing.

“I kinda looked mad all the time.”

“Oh, really,” Jason mused, earning a slap on his bicep.

“I was just… an angry teenager,” he gave her a look. “And young adult too, okay?” she let out a brief laugh. “I don’t know why, I just was. Am. I don’t know. They were just always up my ass, and I guess it got me riled up. I could talk back to them, he might have killed me if I did. So I just… I just…”

“Stocked up with anger?” he finished for her.

“Yeah, I stocked up with anger. And didn’t know where to let it out,” she said, and went quiet for a while. “Was your family as insane as mine?”

“Sorta,” he scoffed. “They are wild, but not bad.”

He didn’t want to talk much, but she looked at him curiously. Almost begging him to talk.

“I was adopted when I was nine. My father had already adopted my older brother, and after me he got Tim, Steph and Cass, and then he found out he had a biological son that is just like him and annoying as shit. I’ll tell you, Damian is a lot. He adopted a cow and just told Bruce to deal with it. Kid is insane. ”

The girl looked at him baffled. A cow? Where would a middle class kid raise a cow in Gotham?

“That sounds… fun,” she gave him a big smile.

“Really?” he wondered.

“My family never did anything out of the ordinary,” she stated.

“My family doesn’t know what ordinary means,” he joked. The two of them laughed, TV show long ignored. Jason never forgot how, when she wanted it, her company could be so pleasant. He felt like she really listened to him, that she didn’t think his takes or stories were just a joke or meaningless. He actually enjoyed having her around, and hoped moments like this would become more frequent with her habiting the same place as him.

“You know,” he found the confidence to start speaking again. “I lied to you… That day at the doctor.”

Yn eyebrows frowned in a questioning look, and so, Jason continued. “I… My birth parents. I know who they are.” 

He felt guilty that day. For lying so blatantly. But it was something too personal for him, something he hadn’t shared with many. It was a part of his life that still hurt him, even if years had passed, and he had finally gotten a new family. He wasn’t ready to share it then, not in front of a doctor, a total stranger. And he knew the risks of his lie. He was omitting important information for his baby’s health and future, but he wasn’t ready.  In fact, he didn’t even know he was ready now. But Yn had been so honest, so open about that part of her life, one he knew now caused her much pain, that he felt the need to offer something back.

It was Yn’s soft hum that broke him from his thoughts and made him continue. “They were addicts. Very poor. I know they did the best the could to raise me, but their addiction was unstoppable. My dad started working with bad people to put food on the table. Last time I checked on him he was in jail. Might as well be dead by now, I haven’t cared to look him up.” His voice came out low, timid. A lump tightened his throat, making it hard for him to speak, but he still insisted. “My mom… She passed away. I’m not sure if it was the drugs, or if she got sick. I just remember her looking really bad.

“I was on the streets for a while, stealing tires and other things, when my father found me. He took me home, gave me food, and I haven’t left there ever since. I mean, I have my own home now, and life wasn’t easy there either, but they still are everything I have. I guess that’s why I grew attached to you so fast… I-I mean, the baby. The idea of the baby. I think I just wanted to have something that is really mine, that I can say I was the one to build and care for. My own family. I just got excited, you know. Let me show you something.”

Avoiding the tears by a millisecond, Jason stood up from his place and went to his closet. There, in the same place he had left it ever since he had bought it, he took the deep brown romper, with cute little ears and an even cuter fluffy tail. He saw it just a few days after Yn came to his apartment with the news he was going to be a dad, just as the idea started to settle in. He hadn’t told his brother, nor his father. The idea just lingering in his head, and once he found it on-line, he had to get it. He proudly got his baby’s first outfit on a whim. But it was too perfect to let it pass, and it was on sale too. It must have been a sign.

Walking fast back to the living room, he dropped at her side on the bouncy cushion. “I got this on-line I think two weeks ago. I thought it was adorable and I just needed to have it. I saw so many babies wearing those on the internet that I couldn’t stop picturing my own baby in one of them. Strolling around, you know. Stumbling on his, or hers, steps, or crawling around in it. Like an actual bear,” he let out a laugh, admiring the garment in his hand.

When he turned to look at Yn, though, he found her eyes watery. Her chin trembled as she bit her bottom lip, an attempt at making it stop. Jason wondered if he had said something wrong. If he had hurt her unknowingly. His own heart started to beat like crazy, bleeding pain upon her painful expression. “Yn? Did I say something wrong?”

“No!”, she cut him before he could finish. She dried her eyes with her hand and continued, “I’m just tired. It’s been a long day, Jay. I’m gonna head to bed.”

Placing a quick peck on his cheek, she might as well have run back to the bedroom.  Her sniffles, barely audible. She left him alone, to his own torturing thoughts of what he might’ve just done to make her react like this. Or was it just the hormones? Did pregnant women just act like this? 

No matter the answer, he stood in the darkness of the night and in the coldness of the rain. But the lingering burn of her kiss on his skin kept him warm, and could finally sleep soundly.

Sunday was quiet, and Nessie had spent the whole day by your side. Not much talking happened between you, her, or Jason. You just hung around, in silent company.

Jason, somehow, had gotten you a bed, and he and Dale, who had stopped by per Nessie’s request, built it in an instant. The room that was now to be yours wasn’t large, but it was enough. You had to learn to leave with enough now. Jason told you he would help you decorate as you wished, even though he had just painted the walls white in expectation of the baby’s gender. He sounded like he was full of ideas for a nursery, excitedly talking about items he had seen on-line or at stores. Nessie joked he might be the one nesting, and not you.

She left early this time, and your dinner with Jason was shared in silence. The two of them had tried to convince you to call in sick at work on Monday, to try to relax a bit more. Let your new reality sink in. But you knew you couldn’t. Sandra needed you, and you needed the distraction.

When morning came, the sun rays hit you straight in the face, the lack of curtains allowing the room to be bright and warm even if it was still early. You came out still in your pajamas, and immediately the smell of food filled your nose. The past few weeks of your pregnancy made you slightly wary of the smell’s potential to make you sick, but it was impossible to deny it smelled good and tasty.

“Good morning,” Jason greeted with a beaming smile. He seemed to be ready to head out to work. “I made you some breakfast. I’ve already eaten.”

“You got me feeling like a baby with all this food and stuff,” you commented. But it was true, he had been doing just about everything to make you feel comfortable and at home in his apartment.

“Hey! You are a baby,” he stated, and you scoffed. “At least while you don’t deliver my baby, you’re baby.”

You rolled your eyes at him, unable to hold back a smile. “Anyway, I have to go now. Are you really going to work today?” he asked. You just nodded. “Okay…” he breathed out. “If you need anything. And I mean, anything, don’t hesitate to call me. I’ll be ready to answer you whenever.”

“You don’t have to worry, Jay,” you started, but one notification from your phone stole your attention briefly. “I’ll be alright. I promise.”

Jason looked at you as if he didn’t believe your words. His deep blue eyes boring into yours as if he tried to catch your lie in them. With a deep and long exhale, he accepted, or at least he pretended, that you would be fine without him. “Still, call me, okay?”

“I will,” you promised. “But I don’t think I’ll need to.”

Sitting on the island stool, you took a look at the meal he had prepared you. It really did look as delicious as it smelled. But you suddenly weren’t hungry.

You watched him pick up his bags, put on his shoes and leave. The guilt eating at your chest the entire time. He waved you goodbye with a large grin, happy to be starting his week it seemed. Yet, this morning, you struggled. You couldn’t bring yourself to eat with the notification staring right at you. A memory of your darkest hour.

Picking up your phone, you read it one more time.

Clinic girl Are you still going to schedule your abortion appointment?

It still stung as strong as it did minutes ago, when you first saw it on your screen. Your mind battled with the idea, even though you knew your answer very well. The smell of the food suddenly was making you sick, and your appetite, by this point, had completely vanished. Rubbing at your temples, you decided on putting an end to it.

You It won’t be necessary.

Putting your phone away, you got up to change. And you changed quickly, just like your life had done. Quick and sharp like an arrow, or an assassin’s blade. Changing everything in its course. Soon, you were closing the apartment’s door behind you, taking one last glimpse of what your life had become. Of what your future was going to be. You and him. Your baby soon to come in.

.

.

tag list: @igotanidea ; @acornacreacure ; @amberpanda99 ; @capswife ; @erochuu ; @fairyeoll ; @gone-batty-fics ; @ichi-matsu-san ; @jasontoddslover ; @jaysgirlx ; @jkvolgs ; @just-lost-inbetween-worlds ; @killxz ; @kysrion ; @lacunaanonymoused ; @loonymoonystuff ; @lothiriel9 ; @marsbars09 ; @munimunni ; @novs9011 ; @spideytingley ; @starcrossedtrek ; @strawberryforks ; @sttrawberries ; @vanillaattack ; @veryfabday ; @vissavin ; @xxsweetnlowxx ; @willieoo ; @wordsfromshona ;

[precious-little-scoundrel]

Job Wanted: Bullshit Detector

Circa: April, 1944

Summary: In the wake of Ida’s miscarriage and the consequences of it, Gale Cleven is on a mission to catch the Allied serviceman who allegedly turned them all in. To do so he must spare time from his other duties, one of which he is loath to delegate. Until he recalls the perfect candidate.

Cast of Characters include: Gale Cleven, Lt. Kendeigh, Lt. Sanchez, Lt. Lu Smith, Ida Brady (discussed)

Warnings: 18+ with universe typical warnings applying. mild chapter for this universe with only referenced past torture, referenced past assault and referenced past miscarriage. 🙃 some hinted racism along with some general stalag angst and characters misinterpretations of each other, etc.

Author’s Note: this was partly inspired by learning the real Gale Cleven was sorta self appointed spy catcher in the stalag, which is very badass of him and very important

The only thing cutting through the anger for Gale was the immediate need for action. If he could not find the turncoat fucker this instant, he had to insure that he would soon. And to do so, he must spare some time from his other obligations, make up for lost evaluations, coordinate with Bucky, and even let other duties lapse. They had others who could fill in the gaps.

There was truly only one duty that chafed him in the aspect of delegating.

He chewed his cheek raw in contemplation of it, the needing of someone to fill his spot in vetting the new prisoners. While baiting out one spy, it would be unthinkable to let in a passel more. And in his time away, as punishment for Ida’s pregnancy, there had been little done in regard to vetting incoming prisoners.

The fact stood, though, Gale did not trust anyone else to be cantankerous enough, to object without arguing, poke holes without being provocative. To sniff out a fake with pure, cold blooded, bone weary cynicism for humanity.

Until he remembered her.

He tried not to remember her, as a general rule, and when they passed in the hall of the combine or when he would find her in her bunk above Smith’s or working out a detail with Kendeigh, they gave each other only the most professional of nods. An effective show of respect to appease the curiosity of those around them, watching always, and yet, he was sure they had not exchanged a single word.

But now he thought of her.

They are sat out in the mildest blizzard of the early spring, Gale and Maureen, when he chose to finally bring her up. The woman who cut him. “The fighter pilot.” he begins.

Maureen perks in the near death-like stillness around them, it’s late afternoon and miserable and so they are alone. Her Major never makes conversation for the sake of it anymore, never did much to begin with, but if he ever were to, he’d not start off with a name or a person. He’d start off talking about landscapes; all his relayed memories started that way. The color of the river, how much snow on the mountain, cedar pollen in Texas. “Sansheaz? San-, yes?” she supplies in answer to his query.

“Sanchez.”

“Yes, yes that’s right. Sanchez. Pretty name, rolls it off her tongue so fast it’s a skill in itself. Pretty woman. Lieutenant, too. What about her?” he does not make conversation so Maureen makes up for the lack with things she knows, things they both know. He counts on her chatter. They both know that, too.

“She settling in?” he ventures. It’s been months.

“Seems to be. She’s in with Smith.”

“Ah.” he knew that, she knew he knew that.

“They seem to be getting along well enough when I’ve dropped in, to look after the bite.”

“Good.” he hopes she will go on, the swipe of his thumb along her knuckle wills it so.

Maureen does. “Keeps to herself, never offered me her name. Smith and I’ve been calling her ‘Lieutenant’. But she has been helpful with roll call. Other duties. She’s an excellent officer when she bothers.”

“Good.”

“Smith likes her.”

“Lu likes everyone.”

“Not everyone.” Maureen corrects, a sudden and harsh sobriety.

“Most everyone.”

“Most. And that doesn’t make her dumb.”

“No.” Gale concedes, “No it doesn’t. But Lu does like everyone.”

“She’s got good sense about people. I’ve always trusted her on that. Except when it came to me.” Maureen, maybe growing weary of this doleful banter begins to grow wry, sardonic, morose, “No earthly reason for her to like me and it shows a complete lapse of judgment. But most other times, she’s onto something. Sanchez seems alright.”

Gale remains frowning. “Lu knows you’d die for her. Don’t know what other likability is needed around here.”

“Projecting much?” She teased, heartsick over his unwarranted loyalty.

“Maybe.” Gale is dogged, “But I know she feels that way. About you. Why wouldn’t she.”

Maureen’s thumb plays a duel with his over her knuckles, they swipe back and forth, he allows her to crush his briefly before she draws a trembling breath, lets out an anecdote he could almost feel her holding in check, “Lu saved me from a bullet in Ravensburg.”

Gale's thumb begs her to go on. He doesn’t dare meet her eyes, throw her off track. He stares at her playful thumb instead. Slightly flattened and a little off color even now the bruises have gone. The nailbed is a sickening dip of flesh where once there was smooth pink. It took months of swelling to leave before he realized they’d torn them out. Seemed he was always learning something worse.

“They were about to-to shoot Ida.” Maureen told her tale, husky voice gone soft, “ After everything they’d done to her and the scalping and- then they were going to just put her down. I didn’t know I was rushing to stop them till Smith stopped me instead. I just couldn’t imagine it -all this. Without her. Without Ida. Couldn’t just stand there. But it was stupid. Smith knew that.”

“Apparently Lu couldn’t imagine this without you.” He pointed out after a bit.

“It would’ve been awful. Wouldn’t it? All this without her.”

“Ida?”

“The colonel, yeah.”

“Yeah.”

“I know she’s not, she’s not much right now but I-i couldn’t imagine it.”

Gale chewed his lip, knowing what she meant by much, knowing it was true in a terrible sort of way and it ate at Ida worse than any of them. The baby. Then the loss of the baby. All that followed. “You told her that?” he asked quietly.

“What?”

“You told her that?”

“Told her what?”

“What you just told me. That this wouldn’t be bearable without her.”

Maureen blinked away the grit in her eyes, squinting at the hazy white horizon with discomfort. She had said something close to it, then delivered her dead child into the world days later like an act of gory penance. “Must I?” she sounded hoarse, and it was proof of what this place had done to her, stripped her down to, taught her harshly, that she got his buried meaning on the first try. However little she liked his suggestion, she understood it.

“Might be good to say.” he observed. “Don’t think plenty of things need sayin’ in this world that get said. Still, most things folks regret, are the unsaid.”

Ida could die. They all could die. Anyone of them could just bite it and the last inane quibble over socks or the last joke over soup would be the last sentiments ever expressed.

Or there could be a decade of this endless nothingness stretching before them consisting of nothing more notable or significant than said quibbles and jokes.

It made Maureen’s chest ache, and not from the cold. She didn’t know why that grieved her, the thought of all this being so meaningless, it grieved her as much as the thought of Ida dying, both feelings startling in their pain.

“It ain’t the end of the world to admit to someone you like that you -well, that you like them.” Gale was grinning at her, soft and compassionate, a little wicked in acknowledgement of their criminal admissions of the same to each other.

“She did so enjoy cutting me down to size.” Maureen muttured, thick and bitter and confused as flight school memories came up tangy and fresh like the blood in her bitten cheek.

“Because you were full of hot air.”

“She didn’t have to enjoy it so much.”

“Just cuttin’ ya down to somethin’ she could promote to a lieutenant.” Gale retorted, and his logic held a terrible persuasion to it.

“That was -flattering.” Maureen admitted. As confused now at Ida’s vote of confidence as she had been back then. It had first felt like a bribe, then a challenge, maybe even a commendation there near the end before -all this.

“First compliment you ever got that wasn’t given by someone kissin’ your ass, huh?” Gale leaned back against the step, pale throat bare and as white as the snow, “Still haven’t recovered, have ya?” He was snickering, or as close to it as prim and proper Gale Winston Cleven ever got, and if she wasn’t so sure he liked her, Maureen might have been terribly hurt by it. Instead she feared he was right and that was aggravating, but not new. Gale was always right. It’s why she stuck by him closer than ever these days, a harbor light in the soup of not knowing anymore.

“What are you thinking?” she changes the subject, not like how she used to with saucy annoyance or a pawing hand on his thigh. She asks because she knows he does not make small talk about people in this place. “In regards to the Lieutenant.”

“I’m thinking she’d fill in a job for me.” Gale replies, contemplative and still forcing himself to recall some of that night. Or rather, to spin the wheel of memory film from that day until it is no longer dark and burning and cruel but far enough back to when it was drizzling and bumpy and noon day with a fresh batch of prisoners and one scowling at him, casting accusations of him being a spy.

“Which one?” Maureen asks, she was asking about the jobs, not which memory. Gale snipps the tape right there on the memory of that day, just like he always did, right before it got dark and comes back to her and the front step and the blizzard that is dusting green shoots of grass by the steps.

Somewhere along the way Maureen has started to stroke the hair at the nape of his neck, icy fingers twirling a comforting dance there. “Gingerale?” she calls him further to the present. Gale wonders how long he’d been gone in his mind, he’s got to be careful with that. It’s one thing for her to notice, but if he starts with her, he might start lapsing with others, and he cannot. He simply cannot. So he gathers himself, lets the nickname ricochet around his skull until its sweet tease knocks out the ghastly replay of grunts and laughs, thinks about her fingers and the way she still loves to play with his hair while she plays with his heart, the way she encourages him to breathe when she touches him, nothing like the way the others nearly strangled him.

Then he thinks about catching the fucking rat that had the craven gall to turn them all in. That had Bucky beaten like that, had Ida kept to bleed out in the fucking cooler after miscarrying, that had Gale upping his concessions to the doctor, concessions that always somehow cost Captain John Brady more than him. He thinks about finding that rat, asking if the extra smoke or blanket or empty promise of an exchange was worth betraying his friends. He thinks about that, he thinks about snapping the fucker’s neck.

“Spy Master.” he grins back at Maureen in the here and now, genuinely happy to have thought of it for Sanchez, and there is after a moment, a look of such stunned concurrence on her face, he knows she knows it is wise. And he knows she knows why.

It is evening time when he acts, and he’d have rather done this in daylight but the evening chores keep everyone occupied, away from the combine even during the snowstorm.

It offers his only opportunity for real privacy. He intended to find Sanchez in the hall or on one such chore and ask for a moment. But he doesn’t see her, instead he stalls Lu on the steps as she heads for the kitchen, “Where’s Sanchez at?” he asks her as if he commonly inquires after the fighter pilot.

“In bed.” The furrow of Lu’s brows ask all sorts of questions her rank and regulation rule book constrain her from voicing.

“She sick?”

“Happens -cyclically.” Smith provides, and if he were unable to guess at the intended meaning, the blanch in Lu’s cheek’s at the mention of the ailment tells Gale Cleven that Lieutenant Sanchez is abed menstruating.

“Right. Save me a turnip.” he teases as he continues past her, swimming upstream of the men in the hallway leaving for dinner, and working his way towards her room.

She is sat alone at its table, bent over her work which seems to be the hem of a trouser leg, spread out on the table top and being subjected to row upon row of rhythmic stitches. There is a bean sack propped behind her back, he can see it through the slats. He would think it a pillow for support if he couldn’t smell the nauseating aroma of burnt dried lentils. He imagines the damn thing is heated and feels a wave of wistful admiration for the design.

It must not be his footsteps in the quieting combine so much as his looming presence after a moments observance that has her suddenly snapping her head up in appraisal of his company. Her eyes are as hard as he remembers and her scrutiny off putting, he is glad that memory is not warped. It will serve his purpose, it will aid in her new job. He is never sure what about her he remembers or invented or blended into Smith. Not even having Lu present can undo the tangle, he has been too cautious of looking Sanchez in the face to compare the difference.

He looks now. Because she does not move, nod, or rise as befits his rank, all the motions she goes through when others are around. She seems aware of the empty combine as keenly as him and her full concentration is on staring him down. He is glad he didn’t try this sooner, to swing by and exchange urbane pleasantries with someone who must find his very existence a burr in the memory. Just as she is to him. There is nothing to account for, no friendship to patch up, no harm to be forgiven. It is senseless to reconnect as there was no true connection. Even if he feels something heated and horrid thrumming between them even now.

“Spare a minute?” he asks her, and Major Cleven’s voice comes easily to his disposal, and he is glad of it.

He does not wait for her invite, as a major he does not need it. He walks past the threshold like it’s any other day and he’s here to inquire about Lu or make sure the poor drowned girl hasn’t passed. She is still in her bunk but there is no life there despite the heartbeat. They are alone. In Gale’s mind, they are alone.

“Sir.” Sanchez gives it to him right as he pulls out a chair and helps himself to it. Near her, but not too near. Not even he could stomach that. The sight of her hands make his gut twist oddly and he panics at the thought he might shake apart from some unwarranted recollection.

Tilled earth heaping against his face. Furrows cut from her nails.

“Smith said I might find ya here.” he informs, easy, normal. “Not hungry?”

“No.” she looks like she expects something awful. Her eyes are unblinking and still harsh, even this near. Perhaps Maureen is right and she is beautiful but he wants to shudder all the same. He can spot the difference now, between Lu’s eyes and her’s.

“Good work.” he comments on the pant leg, gesturing to it.

It makes her drop her gaze for the first time, a quick glance at the needle under her thumb, the ratty row of hem she is repairing. She looks back up, incredulous almost, he thinks, and at least that guarded expression has finally shifted. He watches some resignation come over her, filtered through annoyance when her full lips tightly peel back from her teeth and she responds as if forced with a: “Cannot let your young captain do all of it.”

Brady, he realizes she means Brady. Lu and Brady, that’s all he’s seen this woman really converse with. And Maureen. As lieutenants. “No we can’t.” he agrees. “Appreciate the help.” he wonders if her time of the month makes her more volatile or just miserable, he wants to laugh at choosing his timing so poorly, not only going into the Lion’s den but doing so when they’re hungry. She does not acknowledge that Gale thanked her, she just dares him to finish this.

He does, and again, Major Cleven finds a small smile to present with his offer, “I’ve got a job for you.”

Whatever she expected, it wasn’t that, apparently. Surprise looks awfully thunderous on her but it is surprise all the same, a chink in the armor. “Sir?”

“I have a particular case of business to attend to.” he entrusts her with this, “It will take me away from other duties. I have excellent deputies, they will fill them with ease.” He lets that hang there, baiting a reply.

“Your lieutenants are perfectly able women.” it is as if she is defending them to him, he wants to smile at the slip of loyalty. She only mentions the women, she must think he is here because she is a surplus female.

“I’ve got a job that doesn't require anything but a bullshit detector.” he replies, puts it out there as if tangibly on the table between them, “Something plenty of lieutenants, male and female, haven’t got for shit.”

“Sir.” it’s the least interested question ever, she is tired of him, unimpressed and unflattered and he doesn’t even think the question would deserve a question mark if in written form. He has never been more soothed at his choice.

“Need you to vet incoming prisoners.” he spells it out, “Spycatcher.” he abbreviates. He told Maureen the whole of his ambition for her skills, but here and now he’ll ease it out to her.

Even so, it cracks the facade, if only briefly, intrigue and perhaps a flicker of want flashes in dark eyes before they squint at him in suspicion. “Have you even taken that precaution before?”

“Yes.” he defends.

“Poor job of it.”

That stings but she’s not wrong. “Yeah. Apparently.”

“So you’re passing the responsibility to someone else?”

“You would be my representative, my deputy, given my authority in the matter.” Gale watches closely and gets little in the way of feedback, “We can’t stop prisoners from coming in, obviously, but we can isolate the ones we know or suspect. Trust the others. What happened with you. We know you’re trustworthy now. And I’m offerin’ you this as it suits your talents.”

A crushing suspicion of humanity’s worst intentions was an odd talent but he considered it such. He hoped she’d not think him facetious.

“You don’t think I’m the rat?”

Gale frowned, surprise creasing his face, “No. Not for a minute. The child is out, it’s dead, it-“ so much has changed, first the miscarriage and now the punishments, it’s a whole new landscape and it’s tedious and awful and if the SS do come and take over as threatened, it will be made horrific. “-the reasons to exclude you are over. I need good men, I need good officers. I need someone to take this job. Someone else takes it and it’s you at stake, too. You want a spy bunking above you?”

Sanchez looks angry again, but it is a passive, sour sort. He braces when her lips begin to move, “If you want someone duplicitous enough to drag information from unwilling individuals -you should offer the post to your lady colonel.”

That's not the post. The post is that of prime bulshit sniffer. But this anger poses another issue and his mind flits over it anxiously. “What’ve you got against Colonel Brady?” he sighs.

“Don’t play dumb.”

“Don’t play at insubordination, Lieutenant.”

“She-“ Sanchez began with venom before suddenly reeling back her voice, her expression, everything, it was eerie in a way, “-I would never have told her.” she began again, “But she made me think she knew, and then she pulled her fucking rank, and I told her. And if you are here to learn the full of it -there. I told her about you. Because she deceived me. Offer this job to her.”

Gale stared at the pants hem, regaining his thoughts. Ida knew. He knew she did but, she’d heard it from the source and he knew she did but— “She’s a colonel. She’s my colonel. She’s got a right to know. You didn’t do nothin’ wrong.”

“Of course I did not. She tricked me.”

“You’d have lied to her?”

“About that? Yes. None of her fucking business.”

“She’s our colonel-“

“Not mine!”

“She is our superior.” that went uncontested and Gale went on having gained that victory, measured and speaking to himself as if he could somehow conduct his reasoning over to Sanchez, “She had a right to know. And no one fuckin’ blames you. Not if you told the truth. Did you? You tell her why you cut me? That you thought I was gonna join in? Was gonna dishonor you?”

Sanchez was at war with herself, and in that terrible conflict she seemed half in want of an ally in Gale, and yet- “You think she believes me? If I were to tell her I thought you were capable of that? You? Who she knows and loves and praises? Jesus Christ in a fucking flight suit? You think she’d take a strangers’ excuse over her knowledge of your character? She wanted a reason to distrust me and she found it.”

Gale thought he saw guilt, well masked by fury but there all the same. Sanchez, he surmised, was sorry now she knew him. Sorry like she hadn’t been when they were being ground into the dirt, sorry like she wasn’t when he was lying on Benny’s thigh in the truck bed after, sorry like she wasn’t when he handed her the penicillin.

“Ida wasn’t mad at you for cuttin’ me.” he knew it, like he knew his own thoughts on it, he was so sure of Ida, “She was mad you didn’t say you knew me. That you knew of me before this place.”

“It’s not her’s to know.” Her voice had gone soft, defensive but burnt out.

“She’s a colonel.” Gale disagreed even as his own pride smarted horribly at the thought of being so known by someone so -Ida. He knew Ida also blamed him for not saying. “And she’s a good one to have on your side.”

Something else seemed to be on her mind, her eyes left his face to contemplate the bunk opposite. “You think your men will like having a brown woman vet them?”

“I don’t give a shit. I’m givin’ the job to the most capable…man…I can find.”

“They’ll hate it.”

Gale’s lips twitched. “You tellin’ me you’d mind that? Gonna ruin some social scene ya got goin’ here?”

Her breath came out harsh and he suspected if she were like Ida or Kendeigh, that would have been a laugh. It seemed to take her by surprise as much as him. “You’d -you would back me.” she pinned him with her gaze, hesitancy only in her words.

“Always. You’d be my deputy, Lieutenant.” she actually nodded when he said that, like she was considering, accepting maybe, he wasn’t sure. He knew she’d like the job. She had to be going nuts in here with only pant legs to hem. “It’s a critical job. And you could sit down for it.” he added right as he decided to stand up; her face looked briefly stunned.

Seemed like a good place to end this, on a high note, even if the high was a tiny ant hill: all in comparison to the morass they were in when he first entered this room.

“Yeah?” He asked her to accept.

“Sir.” she nodded.

“Thank you, for taking the job, Lieutenant.” Gale thumped the table once in adieu, she was still staring him down.

He’d made it back to the door when he heard her, “I really thought you -were.” the last word held such meaning in her tone he knew exactly what she meant, she was remembering too, she was recalling how she’ had sliced him open, furious as a wild cat. She had really thought he was capable of the worst. “Why would you think I’m a good judge.”

Gale stalled, hand grasping the wooden doorframe and looked back at her over his shoulder, Major Cleven managed to give the troops a grin, “Didn't say I needed a good one, just a suspicious one.”

💋 Hope you enjoyed! Feedback is a writer’s lifeblood, please feel free to scream in comments or the inbox, I love it and wanna hear it all. Trust me, nothing is “too dumb”. Your thoughts mean the world to me.

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[angelgoeslewd]

Omegaverse Alpha!Chuuya, Dazai, and Ranpo Headcanons

⚠️ warnings: 18+ concepts and scenarios, Minors DNI! Omegaverse, GN!reader, mentions of heats and ruts, slick, knots, and sexual/explicit scenarios.

[Fyodor and Nikolai here!]

Chuuya

ARE U READY TO BE THE WORLD’S MOST SPOILED OMEGA??? :D ‘CAUSE BABY- YOU ARE!!!

Chuuya knows that he can be very absent in your relationship, both physically, mentally, and emotionally. But that doesn’t stop him from always trying to make up for it!!! Unlike OTHER ALPHAS-

Chuuya is honestly probably the best Alpha you can have. He’s very sweet!! He worships you, he’s caring towards your needs, sympathetic to any issues you have, will absolutely spoil the shit out of you, protective in all the right ways, very stable financially — the list goes on and on. However… it is extremely hard to break down his walls and actually GET to the point where you two are in a committed relationship. Between his trust issues and being a literal executive for the MAFIA- he isn’t the type to fall in love very fast or very easily. He wants to be. He romanticizes love to an extreme; but he cannot bring himself to actually relax and let down his walls in order to experience it. Basically, you gotta fight for this boy, but it is oh so worth it.

I know most people probably think you have to manage dancing around his outbursts and anger issues but honestly? Those are for people who Are Not You™️. You do have to talk him down from crushing the Alphas who mention you in the wrong sort of light to death, however.

They end up dead anyway. Yeah you really kinda have to be morally grey to date this man. And that might be a deal breaker for some. While I see a lot of fics talking him out of the dangerous life of the Port Mafia and having him settle down, I really don’t see that as a viable option. One, I firmly believe that Chuuya sees his place in the Port Mafia as one he’s earned, all by himself, without relying on anyone and proving himself worthy. The emotional ties to his job alone make it hard for him to even consider leaving. Two, even with all the danger, Chuuya prides himself on being able to keep you safe despite all of that. You will never be taken. You will never be used. He keeps you close enough so that you are technically protected, but far enough removed that you cannot be a pawn in this sick twisted game that Mori plays. And… it’s kinda stable for him. For you. A generous income that leaves you leaves you flush and living lavishly beyond your wildest dreams. He can’t give that up. So really, you have to be ok when he ends up having to murder a few people for his job. Not that you would know about it first hand. And he’s never malicious. He has his own moral code that will never be broken.

Heats???? Ruts??? This man will shower you in whatever you want during that time. No matter what, he will always be there for you. Uninterrupted personal time with Chuuya. His Omega always comes first. He is such a generous lover too. He’ll knot you as many times as you wish. He’ll make you breakfast in bed and make sure you hydrate. Loves eating you out until you’re begging for his knot, ass up and face down. Give you all his clothes for the nest you make. He’s so in tune with his Omega that his ruts will line up with your heats very early on in the relationship, so you might want to invest in child-prevention or otherwise both you and him will be looking at parenthood. 😳 He wouldn’t mind that. Considering how long it would take for you to get to that point… but he wouldn’t let you know that.

Dazai

Honestly, I love this man ok? He was my first BSD love and he’ll always have a place in my heart because of that. But my god. He is an absolute horrible Alpha.

Dazai himself is very guarded. He loves to have an air of nonchalance, but that’s all it is. An image. He is a fortress of walls that will never truly come down, unlike Chuuya, who eventually lets you in fully. Considering his past and his experiences, being able to break through a few of those will be a victory. Dazai, on the other hand, needs a partner who is okay with never truly knowing his own desires. A partner who’s ok with always being held at an arm’s length, because Dazai feels like if he loves you too much, something bad will happen.

Not only the emotional distance, but a physical one too. Dazai loves to be touchy, but at home, he also needs time to regenerate his own physical stimulation. It might be strange to some that he seems more affectionate and physical in public, but Dazai wants to trust you. He wants to feel comfortable enough to not always be what he feels like he should be. He might come off as cold or even uncaring, but he just needs time, no matter how much he loves you. And trust me, it will pay off.

And we also have to consider his job. Unlike Chuuya, who’s rather stable in his self-image and work life, Dazai almost is like Ranpo in a sense, where he feels like something bad will happen if he’s not available to ADA at every second of the day. Unlike Ranpo, Dazai cannot shirk these feelings or his duty, even though he basically goes in and does absolutely nothing all day. Mentally, he’s there. Thinking up solutions and plans without speaking a word of it. He needs to be there to get ahead, to minimize casualties, no matter how much Kunikida helps out. There will be many times you spend a heat alone, or Dazai will have to rush out to go to work during one of them.

Buttttt that’s not to say he’s a selfish lover. He is, in fact, a very, very good one. Not only through experience, but in creating a sort of intimacy that makes you feel like he’s all there. Even if he isn’t. Which, again, is sort of shady of him. 🙄 But honestly? His dirty talk is top notch. During the heats that he goes to work, he’ll talk you through the time that he isn’t there. Much to your embarrassment.

Dazai’s favorite thing is to feel you clench around his knot. He loves making you so horny that all you can do is beg him to knot you and scream his name or his title. It’s a moment that he can just forget everything, his past, his current situation, and just be with you. He loves being your Alpha and does wish he could be a better one, but that’s just not him. 100% keeps a pair of your slick stained panties in his pocket. Disgusting man.

His ruts will take a while to line up with yours. It’s a combination of both problems — physical and emotional distance. Feeling like he can even sort of trust you will cure that. He’s super restrained during his ruts though. Even if you’re in a long relationship, the only way you can notice is by his heightened scent, which he loves to blockers to suppress, because he’s stupid like that and feels like it interferes with his investigations (yes and no. it’s not very helpful if someone can smell you a mile away, but it’s also because Dazai likes to keep an air of mystery AND distance between any sort of work and personal life, in his own strange way. Stops taking them if it helps create a connection he can use) and the fact he just randomly wants to knot you at all times of the day. He doesn’t even seem that serious about it though — just like “oh! popped a knot in you! sorry!” and does that 10 more times until you catch on.

“Dazai… are you in rut???” “…yeah.” absolutely ridiculous mind game for no reason other than it’s Dazai.

Seriously, if this man is your Alpha, I’m sorry. He makes you jealous accidentally a lot because he has Omegas fawning over him, that he gives crumbles of attention for validation, but his secretly super possessive and HATES when it happens to you. Seriously. One Alpha hits on you and suddenly you’re covered in hickies and claim marks, rubbed so hard with his scent it almost stinks and you can’t get it out with ANY SORT of laundry detergent.

Ranpo

again, if this man is your Alpha, I’m sorry. I am actually less sorry than if Dazai is your Alpha but I’m still sorry.

Ranpo is childish. He has absolutely 0 clue on how to be a proper Alpha, despite Fukuzawa trying to teach him, but unlike someone like Kunikida or Sigma, has probably little to no desire to learn. That isn’t entirely true, especially with how earnest Ranpo is to want to learn with you, but honestly, he gives up very quickly.

He can be very selfish with his pleasure, but that’s mostly to your gain, to be honest. At least you have 0 emotional hangups when it comes to Ranpo. 🤷‍♀️ that’s all I can say.

He also has 0 embarrassment. He will fully scent you, partially undressing you to get to what he wants, like a breastfeeding CHILD, in the middle of the office. If you smack him away, he’ll be fully confused. Like “whaaaaat? I’m your Alpha. I’m supposed to do this.” NOT HERE, IDIOT.

Mouths your neck and your scent gland whenever too. Like just leans over in meetings to do so. You, as his Omega, almost have to leash him, your Alpha. It’s a bit of an unusual dynamic, but fits perfectly to Ranpo.

He will end up growing up a bit when he enters a relationship with you; however, that will take a lot of time. Your relationship probably starts off really casually too. Ranpo will most likely just offhandedly ask you on an outing, then he’s considering you his significant other, his omega, without it ever truly being discussed. “It wasn’t obvious? Why would I ask you out if I didn’t want to be with you?” Please teach him how to properly enter a relationship. Or at least discuss with him the standards of dating. Fukuzawa will give you a bonus. Just please.

Now, it’s very widely accepted that Ranpo is autistic/asperger’s syndrome, and I headcanon him as that as well so a little on that from another Aspie!!! Ranpo doesn’t always catch on to what is and isn’t socially acceptable. He has a tendency to sometimes be sexual in times that aren’t always the best, but if you tell him nicely, he’ll understand and back down. Usually with a nod and taking mental notes. You need to be very verbal with this man because he will not catch on in any sort of way. If you want a gift, ask him for it! If you want time alone, ask him. Seriously. You need to tell him or he’ll just keep doing his little routine.

He has stimulation problems. You might need to carry around headphones or some sort of fidget toy because he sometimes gets overwhelmed in public by all the information he’s taking in. He’s used to it, but that doesn’t make it better. If you let him sit on the couch with a weighted blanket and just sit with him in silence on the other side, he will eventually jump your ass after a while and cuddle up under your arm. He will probably not leave your side for the rest of the day, refusing to talk to anyone but you.

His libido is finicky, it jumps between hyper sexuality and almost completely disappearing, even if he wants to pleasure you. His ruts show that. Unlike most Alphas, they aren’t always timely, and show up randomly. It makes it hard for your heats to line up with his ruts. They rarely line up, and sometimes when you’re in heat Ranpo is completely disinterested and would rather be working on a case. Early on, he most likely will ignore you and them, not out of animosity or a lack of care, but just because he’s really not used to being in a relationship. If you give it time and practice, certainly after expressing your need, Ranpo will take care of you through them. Whether it’s eating you out or knotting you properly. He can finger you with one hand while working on his phone or laptop with the other, a skill he didn’t even know he had.

His ruts on the other hand… he’s very needy. You will have to call out of work for a week or two. He wants to be touching you at all times. Don’t expect to leave the bed at all. Actually, just plan on being on his knot the whole time. If you have to get up, even for a drink of water, expect him to be right there behind you, arms clasped around your waist, begging for you to come back to bed. His scent gets so heavy. He just wants to be comfortable and the only way he feels comfortable is with you. You might need additional call out days for how weak your legs will be afterwards.

Ranpo is apologetic though and will bring you painkillers or a heating pad. You probably could talk him into a massage every now and then. He knows how much you give to him, and struggles with sometimes feeling like your relationship is one sided. It is, in a way, but Ranpo gives back tenfold with how absolutely pure his love is for you. He’s loyal and will never entertain any sort of attention from any other Omega. He shares all his snacks and candy with you and tries to show you his love in little ways, like remembering your favorite flavors or something you mentioned you liked.

Ranpo isn’t the best Alpha, but he is a good soul. He tries and though he has his struggles, he really is there for his (and your!) best interests at heart.

Praise him. Praise him during his rut and you will be there for another week. It drives it crazy and ends up lengthening it for an extended amount of time.

[cinnamonest]

OMG I MISSED YOUR WRITINGS ON SCARAMOUCHE SO MUCH!!

Please I need the version with camgirl reader x incel Scaramouche 🛐

And I hope you are well !!! <3

The way I was gonna make this a fairly simple post and then I got carried away and now it's 9k words WHOOPS

Anyway YES anon, I am on the slut girl x virgin boy agenda... although since I already have a camgirl, this time I went with like an onlyf*ns/e-girl darling + college AU >:3

//noncon, cyberstalking, blackmail, harassment, misogyny, sadism, nipple/ass stuff, revenge porn/leaking, darling is portrayed as being feminine + implied to have a bf

---

You tell yourself it's just to get you through college.

That's how you convinced yourself to start the account — regular camming requires a schedule and streaming and all that, which you'd rather not do, whereas the other outlets let you sell subscriptions for photos and videos, and there was a decent market out there, so you took your best shot, did some work to advertise yourself on mainstream social sites, and hey, it worked. You soon find yourself with a steady stream of income, and all you have to do is masturbate on camera and take a few posed photos of your body.

A few years of some extra income, and then you'll be done, get a better job, and you can delete the account and scrub the internet clean of any trace of the matter. Maybe some guy out there will keep some of the photos, but it can't be that bad.

This way, you can focus on your academics, which a regular part-time job would be too time-consuming for. You don’t have to worry about scheduling classes around a work schedule, either, which allows you to be more choosy on your class schedule, ensuring you get the later classes and don’t have to wake up early each day.

Except one, where you had no choice but to take the early class, as the other sections filled up fast. It’s one of those required tech-involved ones, you just picked from the list at random — one of those big classes with hundreds of people in a huge auditorium, any degree of personalism drowned by the sheer number of people. It’s a male-dominated subject field, and the body of attending students when you walk in clearly reflects that, so you just sit down in the very back at the first unclaimed seat you can find, pausing to say good morning to the boy next to you, who only briefly looks your way in acknowledgement.

The professor goes over the generic first-day material — that yes, you need the expensive textbook, that yes, he will check attendance, and no, he will not give you extra credit at the last minute at the end of the semester, so on and so on… and—

—you’ll be working with the person next to you for the rest of the semester.

Even-numbered seats, the person to your immediate left, odd-numbered seats, to your immediate right. You turn and smile at the guy you’re thus assigned to, the same one you spoke to a few moments ago — once again, he just glances over at you and nods with some vague acknowledgement and then resumes doing what he’s been doing since the professor started, which is scrolling on his phone beneath the desk, only half-paying attention. That does not bode well for your predictions of how equally-yoked you’ll be in your work ethic… but no big deal.

It's one of those classes with a midterm and final project that you work on throughout the semester, rather than tests… which, hey, that could be fun, you tell yourself. You think you can get along. He doesn’t seem to care about what's going on around him much, which is not exactly good, but isn’t bad.

That dopey, happy demeanor… so obnoxious… ugh, you’ve got a notebook (an aesthetic, pretty one at that), and you're pulling it out on the first day of class? For what?

Except you aren’t reading him all that well at all. Unbeknownst to you, his eyes shift over to you and your activities throughout the class. And the reality is he very much does care.

That is, from the very second he lays eyes on you, you irritate him.

Then you write the class and your name at the top of the page all cutesy and artsy-looking, and then— God, now you're pulling out the multiple colors of highlighters and pens. Is that— is that one of those sparkly gel pens? Oh, it is. You’re making a little header with today’s date for your notes with it. Just kill him now. This is practically psychological torture.

Thus, while from your perspective, it feels like he barely pays you a second thought, in reality the rest of the period for him is spent just stewing in a stream of bitter, jaded thoughts.

Look at you with your… girl clothes and girl pens and girl notebook… you probably think you're so cute, spending money on dumb stuff like that… and smiling like an idiot. What are you so happy for. Why are you even taking this class when you'll just be bad at it. Why are you dressed like you put effort into it. Just pick up one of the sweatshirts laying on your bedroom floor like a reasonable person. And why do you smell so nice too.

He mulls over the negativity for the remainder of the class period, totally zoned out until people start packing up, which is the cue to leave.

Except you stop him before he can make a quick exit, holding out your phone, open to a new entry in your contacts.

Ah, since we'll need to work on the project, I can text you…

Right. That. Ugh.

The awkward discomfort of standing there and entering a name and number while you stand there with that dumb little nervous smile is only made more upsetting by the bitter realization that this will mark the first time he's ever had his number in a girl's phone before. Great, now he's going to be depressed for the rest of the day, and it's your fault.

You say thanks and smile again and your hands brush against his when you take your phone back and it makes him physically flinch in recoil — and you definitely noticed it, you mumble a little ah, sorry as if you're trying to make it even more awkward, now he's got to live with the humiliation of that too, and it's still your fault. Clearly, you are going to be nothing but a source of frustration.

And even once he's moped all the way back to the the comfort of his nice, dark apartment, he still can't escape your torment — no sooner does he flop down into bed than his phone goes off…

>Hi! Just wanted to make sure you can save my number too!

You add the little smiling emoji. It makes his eye twitch.

Trying to act all nice and sweet as if you're not only being pleasant because you're forced to work together. He knows full well you'd be all bitchy and demanding and hypersensitive in any other context, and probably all snobbish too, probably would barely pay him any mind.

Even if you are genuinely sweet, that in and of itself is still basically torturing him. Because what’s the point in you being sweet if you’re not going to give him anything more than that? With that in mind, even your niceness is just a cruel tease.

And why would you even be so happy to begin with? Doesn't being a girl suck? If he was something so weak and inferior and unintelligent, he'd be even more miserable about life, and that's really saying something. Maybe it's one of those things where you're so dumb that you lack self-awareness, so you can live a life of ignorant bliss... at the same time, the notion that you’re unaware of how inferior you are is equally frustrating. You should know, that knowledge should weigh on your mind all the time.

The frustration makes his chest feel tight, makes him grind his teeth… naturally, he has to get it out somehow, and there's a very convenient means to do so.

The imageboards he frequents almost always have a “leaked images” thread up and running, communities where they post e-girls’ nudes and revenge porn. The wrongness of it, of course, is the appeal.

Besides, they all deserve it. Some are images originally sent to boyfriends, posted as an act of revenge after cheating or dumping the guy (so it's deserved, really), others are leaked videos and photos from various pay-to-view networks and websites (also deserved, for being a whore), and finally some are just creepshots in public places (deserved once more, for dressing that way).

And the endless amount of the content and surprisingly good tagging system means that one can find any sort of content, and for the leaked porn accounts, it includes the girl's username and links to more of her, so you can see more of the same girl.

Like with this one, that just so happens to catch his eye. There's a whole page where some guy has paid for every single photo this girl has made, and put it out there for everyone to see for free. It's solo stuff, too, which is preferred — seeing couples making videos together, thereby watching the girl love on some guy, is depressing — and getting off to it is much more satisfying than any of the other girls on this thread, considering she looks like you.

…A lot, actually.

He's already memorized your annoying, pretty little face. The title of the video has the words “college girl” in it, too. Adds to the immersion, can feel like it’s really you, degrading yourself like that… of course, when it’s over, he has to deal with the reality that it isn’t, but the momentary pretending is cathartic.

And sure enough, as the first week passes, you quickly prove just as irritating as he initially suspected. You smile at him and talk to him every class, for some unknown, malicious ulterior motive. Are you trying to be belittling? Or are you trying to make him like you so that he'll do favors for you? Or is it for your own amusement?

Either way, the obvious deceit of it all is sickening. It's a commonly known female behavior. You try to come across as so sweet when in reality it's all an act, and you have some horrible reason for it. He just doesn't know what the reason is in your case yet. It would be better to be a bad person outright — the slimy underhanded fakeness of it all is what makes that type of evil so contemptible.

You, though, you’re just a bit puzzled. Normally, being nice to people works well… but this guy keeps sort of glaring at you… maybe that’s just how his face naturally is? But then, he also doesn’t talk very nice either. Not particularly mean, per se, but you can sort of sense an irritation, like you’ve done something wrong… you try to make the best of it, tell yourself you’re just imagining it. Besides, if he really didn’t like you, he wouldn’t respond when you talk to him, or would sit elsewhere, right? It’s not like you have to maintain the same seats all semester, as long as you work on the required material outside of class. So, you tell yourself, he must just be one of those people that naturally has that demeanor.

You’re not nearly as aware of it, but he makes his own observations of you too. You don’t check your phone nearly as much as he does, but every now and then, you look at something or another, and he always makes sure to subtly turn his eyes to see… it’s usually something stupid, like texts from friends, or worse, what appears to be a boyfriend, some male name you text often.

The first time you’re forced to meet outside of class, at the library per your suggestion — a very awkward interaction, but you seem to be fairly unbothered — you take a moment to check it when it vibrates. You’re sitting at an angle that makes it difficult for him to see without moving in a way that would catch your attention, but by pretending to take a swig of whatever can of liquid caffeine he has today (you had the audacity to comment how unhealthy it is), that he can tilt his head enough just to barely make out your screen without being noticed.

Your phone is open to an email.

The words flash across the screen for just a split second before you turn the screen off, but that one second is enough to make out the top of the screen. Enough time for the ‘hello, (username),’ preface to the email right beneath a very familiar blue logo to register with his brain.

He nearly chokes.

It takes every ounce of willpower to even try to hide the natural reaction — his eyes widen, he goes tense, he has to turn his torso away and pretend to fish something out of his cluttered bottomless void of a backpack whilst trying to refrain from coughing.

But then again, you put the phone away so quickly once you saw what it was… and the video from the other day…?

No. That can't be right.

There's no way. There's no way, there's no way, there's no way.

He can’t get back to his own place fast enough. Dropping the keys trying to unlock the door out of excitement, immediately whipping out his own phone, and he’s on the bookmarks tab before he can even sit down. Back to the leaks site, scrolling down to the tags where they put the girl’s username.

You’re wholly unbothered, going right back to talking to him in that overly-sweet tone, so nice, so frustrating, so torturous. You’re saying something. He has to get you to repeat yourself… no, it was just some pointless question about the homework.

To hell with that, that’s not even remotely important anymore… but he can’t voice that thought out loud, so he’s forced to tolerate the torment of waiting out the rest of your meeting until you finally say you’ll have to keep working later.

The usernames match. The one in your email was the exact same as the one now on the screen.

…

It's one of those moments where what's in front of him is so surreal, he's left so stunned, that he just sits there for a second, completely still, blinking and taking it in. Something that's too perfect to be real. This can't be actually happening, he's mistaken.

And thus he's just left perfectly still, a stupor of disbelief, sitting there in the darkness of the room with only the harsh light of phone screen shining up on his face as it slowly sinks in. It takes a minute — this is just the sort of thing that doesn't happen, it's far too perfect, he has to convince himself it isn't a dream.

And once it registers as reality, it feels exhilarating.

For one, it proves every suspicion right. He really did have a valid reason to be distrusting of your innocent girl act. To think, this whole time you were trying to fool him into believing you were good.

But all along, you were whoring out online, and basically, the fact that you're not upfront about that to someone you barely know is the same as outright lying about it.

Up until this point, life has just been so boring, so disappointing, just going through day to day… even college was just a thing to do because it's what everyone else does. But now? Now he has something exciting. A sudden sense of something meaningful, even if only as an outlet for pure, unadulterated malice.

As for you, well, you get a… well, a follower, but certainly not a fan.

The boy is a world-class hater. It's not passive hating, it's active hating. There is actual effort being put in here, and a lot of it at that.

In terms of the content itself, it's nothing you haven't seen before — some guy leaving comments and DMs calling you a whore and a slut and every nasty name one can conjure, saying you've ruined any hopes of a relationship by doing this, why would anyone ever date you when they can see you naked for a few bucks, telling you to get a real job, blah blah… fairly generic. A lot of the verbiage is certainly non-original, and more or less recycled, specific choices of words and phrases and lingo you know you’ve seen before in those pockets of the internet where certain types of men congregate.

But the sheer dedication to it is what catches you off guard. You're pretty sure this guy is more dedicated to harassing you than you are to the job itself. There's messages from all hours of the day, and you're certain after a short time that he makes multiple accounts for the sole purpose of harassing you. Not to mention he follows or adds you on everything — all the socials you've linked (you keep several associated to your account to lure in horny guys from mainstream sites), adds you on discord and any other messaging app you have (and you have no way of knowing which users are legitimate or if it's him, so you have to add them back and wait to find out each time). One of which you didn't even have listed on your page, so you realize he would have had to go through various apps and search the multiple variations of your username you use until finding you.

Telling him to fuck off accomplishes nothing, in fact he seems to derive great satisfaction from making you upset about it. Tells you that you should be glad — you wanted male attention, right? You wouldn't be posting yourself getting off and flashing your tits on camera for the world to see if you didn't, slut. He adds that insult to just about everything he says to you.

Blocking him only leads to him making new accounts (and then mocking you for trying to block him). You even reached out to a customer support team on one of your social media apps and got him permanently IP banned, which he then immediately circumvented in less than a few hours, making sure to inform you that changing one's IP is so easy and you're so dumb for thinking that would do anything.

But why you, specifically? Why decide to torment you out of every other girl doing this stuff? You don't know. You never asked for this. You never did anything wrong to anyone. You even scrolled back on your social accounts to see if you ever said anything someone could take offensively or had a negative interaction with someone, but found nothing. There's nothing to explain why this one man in particular has decided to come after you specifically, nothing you can think of at least. It feels like the universe just hates you.

It's actually kinda sad. You almost feel bad for this guy, who apparently has so much time to spare and nothing better to do than harass the same girl on the internet day in and day out. You did once shoot back a reply of don’t you have anything better to do?, which actually did make him stop… for about ten hours or so, then it was right back to it.

It's deserved, though, he thinks. E-girls are reprehensible. Taking advantage of guys’ loneliness for money.

Infuriating that you advertise something that he— well, that most guys want so bad, but don't actually give the real thing, only a simulation of it. Make them drool over you, while you hide behind the safety of the screen, far away from what those guys would do to you if they could get their hands on you.

And you know that too, don't you? You know how defenseless you are, know how much danger you'd be in if you teased without putting out like that to a guy in real life, and you do it anyway knowing you're untouchable, you must be so smug about it. Infuriating.

He's not like those simps of yours though, he finds you too morally reprehensible to be drawn to the curves of your body and the parts of you that you post and the sounds you make and how easy it is to imagine the softness of your skin and the way you feel and your warmth and the way you look directly into the camera as you moan and it feels like eye contact—

Anyway, he has standards. And self-respect.

Besides, he knows from stalking your social accounts — including your real ones with your real identity attached, separate from the others — that you have something like a boyfriend. Some guy who shows up in your pictures a lot. What a pathetic idiot. Who lets their girlfriend do this sort of thing? Even disregarding that, does this guy not know you’re meeting with him for your project too? He would never allow you to do something like that, were it him in that position. You must go after spineless guys who will let you walk all over them or something, and would only even accept boyfriends that allow you to do what you do.

That’s why, see, he would never accept something like that. Sure, there would be positives, like getting to see that sweet annoying smile and hear your happy obnoxious precious voice each and every day, and getting to touch you and be around you all the time, and you probably do really nice things for the person you’re with too, and he could always just force you to delete the accounts and never post yourself online again— but, whatever.

Point is, he’s better than stooping so low. He’ll keep living a respectable life, just like he does now — so he thinks as the phone alarm goes off, one of many set reminders to go send you more messages.

It's an awkward relationship, but you're pretty sure he doesn't hate you or anything, which is good. He's hard to read — he seems perpetually either bored or irritated, always slouched over, always maintaining that ‘I really wish I weren't here right now’ tone of voice, lots of heavy sighs or tsks scattered into his speech. Even when you agree to meet at the library to work on the homework and midterm project, he quickly establishes a pattern of being at least ten to fifteen minutes late (without any acknowledgement or apology at that), and frankly, you do the vast majority of the actual work, he just slaps his name on the corner next to yours once it's done.

The torment detracts from your sleep. You're late to your class more than once, trying to sneak in unnoticed by the professor and mumbling apologies to the students you have to slip by to get to your seat. Your partner doesn't seem to care much, at least — he just lazily glances over at you with a flat expression, then goes back to scrolling (he doesn't need to take notes, you'll just send him yours anyway).

He does step in to help when it's too difficult, you can't solve the problem yourself… which is how you realize that, in spite of being remarkably low-effort, he actually does understand the material, much better than you do at that. It's a bit embarrassing, since he makes it out to be so simple, but at least it somewhat compensates for all the work you do.

He's not particularly mean about it, he's just… not nice. The tone and choice of words tends to be not-so-subtly making you out to be dumb for not getting it, or that it's easy, or otherwise belittling.

…You really don't get that one? It's the exact same thing as the last one.

You give a sheepish smile and rub the back of your head.

Aha… sorry…

But it gets done, and that's what matters. You just walk away from each meeting feeling like an idiot, which isn't exactly a great feeling.

But even though you initially felt like the guy didn’t care for you, you quickly notice that he’s started to walk all the way back to your place after your meetings while you talk. You supposed he wouldn’t do that if he didn’t at least somewhat enjoy your company.

And you do try to make conversation. You ask about what other classes he takes…only to learn that he doesn't go to any other classes, since this is the only one where attending is required. He did the math, and he just has to do good on the finals for the other classes to pass, no need to show up for the tests and quizzes and lectures and stuff… and he did research into the professors to find ones where past students confirm they recycle the exact same tests and the past ones are posted online, and he's already got a good cheating method that's only been caught once in all the years he's used it… so there's no point in showing up, he says.

It's a very different mentality than yours, but you try to smile and refrain from saying anything negative. And you try interests and social life as topics, but quickly glean from what little he says that the guy has none of the latter and more or less just a phone and gaming addiction for the former.

Which you have no trouble believing, because good God, does the boy have a totally fried attention span. Even in your meetings, you swear he can't go five minutes without staring at his phone.

Oh, you like that too…?

That does end up helping you find a means to try and get closer. You manage to find one opening, something flash across the screen for some upcoming game. One you've been looking forward to as well.

Huh? You can’t like that thing. He likes that thing. It's not for females. It’s for people with good taste… it’s good… you can’t… someone like you would never be able to properly appreciate it… and now you’re just babbling away with that dumb smile while he’s going through a psychological crisis and rethinking every choice in life because of you. Does this put you two on the same intellectual level...? No, of course not, he has to quickly shake off any such doubts.

You were hoping to get a positive reaction, but you get silent bewilderment in his expression at first, for just a second.

Still, you’re supposed to be boring and a normie… you can’t just suddenly shatter the image of you he’s already constructed… and from the way you're talking about it, you know too much to just be pretending to like something for attention (which is the obvious automatic assumption for when females like media that's actually good and worth consuming).

Devastating. Now he has to consider the possibility that you do have interests and a personality besides being deceitfully sweet and whoring online.

But from your perspective, he just crosses his arms and shrugs.

Kind of, I guess.

And God, then you smile at him again. Every time you do that, it gives him some godawful tight-chested feeling, like you’re trying to kill him with psychic damage.

What gives you the right to be so happy right now anyway? Aren’t you supposed to be in constant distress, now? Is he not doing good enough of a job at tormenting you? You seemed upset, but clearly not upset enough, if you’re still emotionally stable enough to be nice to him. He has to break you, make you too distraught to even go on.

Online, you’re so mean, you never have anything nice to say, even though he’s not that mean to you — well, he could be worse, at least, which is basically the same thing.

Actually, he decides, how you behave in real life will be a good standard of how good he’s doing at making your life miserable. Once it starts to noticeably affect you even in real life, that means it’s sufficient.

But you prove resilient. Each day, you seem to get up, summon some resolve to still enjoy your life, and are still pleasant and friendly… or maybe you’re just really good at acting. Yes, obviously that’s it, since your whole sweetness thing is just an act in the first place.

On your end, the harassment gets worse. It comes in all hours of the day — does this guy not sleep? It’s almost hard to believe someone hates you this much, or even has the energy to keep this up… you start trying to just ignore it.

You tried threatening to report the guy for harassment, but he points out that he hasn’t threatened you with any real harm, and only targeted your public accounts, so no laws broken… and he’s already prepared by taking measures to— well, you don’t understand the spew of lingo that follows, but you gather that the jist is that it would be very difficult to trace him.

So you start to ignore it. You try your best to just not let it get to you, let the comments and messages go without acknowledgement or response. It’s actually somewhat relieving, if you just pretend it doesn’t exist. At first, when you start ignoring him, the messages get more frequent.

But then, it goes quiet for a day. Just around twenty-four hours, you don't get messages, nor comments.

It should make you feel relieved, you think, but it doesn't. Quite the opposite — you feel uneasy. Like something will happen.

He's getting bored, you see. You don't react as strongly anymore as you used to. You used to get so upset at all the messages he sent, and it was so fun to watch how you'd get all defensive and angry in your replies.

Then your replies got shorter, and now— what gives your the right to ignore him? It infuriates him. Dumb whore, treating him like you think you're so much better… or, the gut-wrenching thought passes through his mind, maybe you're busy, you’re probably visiting the guys you sleep around with, since someone like you could never be loyal to that boyfriend he's certain you have.

The only option is to progress things further. He has to think about that. He didn't really have a plan on where to go from here, but now he's started to think about the bigger picture, what he wants in the long term… and that's not going to go over well for you.

It takes some work and digging on his end, but it's worth it.

It's around three in the morning when your phone goes off. It just barely manages to wake you up. You think to yourself that you should remember to turn off the notifications for messaging apps… but for now, you sit up, groggily unlocking your phone. Seeing who the message is from, though, snaps you into full alertness.

A message that makes you go stiff, staring at your phone wide-eyed and slack-jawed, a cold knot of dread forming in your gut that quickly turns to an electrifying surge of pure panic as you read.

The name of your academic institution. The names, emails and phone numbers of your immediate family members. Your full, real name — and your address, down to the unit number.

Your heart sinks into your stomach. The glaring light hurts your tired eyes, but you can't look away.

You know he's just waiting on a response. Probably knows you're panicking, but knows you have no choice but to comply — and you're forced to give him the satisfaction of seeing you type back.

>What do you want from me?

It's only a few seconds before you get a reply.

>From now on, do what I want

>Or I ruin your life.

You hesitate a while before responding. Poor you, you must be so scared now that you're finally getting what you deserve. And even then, you just send back a ‘fine,’ even though it took you so long to respond. You were probably trying to think of how to respond, probably typed out longer potential replies, but decided on that to seem tough or something. That's actually almost endearing.

And oh, it's so, so satisfying to finally see you crumble, even if just a bit, the next day. For you to come shuffling into class for once with a downtrodden, nervous expression, making your way over to your spot without the usual greeting.

…Except that's also irritating. What makes you think you can just not say hello, now that you've established a routine of doing so every day of this class? For all you know, he's just the person you know in real life, so you're basically willingly choosing to potentially disappoint him. Not that you are disappointing him, but like, if he actually cared about your dumb little daily greeting, then he would be. He even gives you several extra seconds, and you still don't do it.

You're still fidgeting nervously, lost in thought when the mumbling directed at you pulls you out of your thoughts.

…Something wrong with you?

You seem to realize your sullen energy and attempt to fix it with a twitching, obviously forced smile.

O-oh, no, I'm just tired, haha… good morning!

He doesn't say anything back, just turns back to phone-scrolling as usual. You realize your melancholy must be showing on your face.

You're being overdramatic, too, he thinks. He didn't even give you any demands yet, since he decided it would be more fun to make you wait in suspense for a few hours or so. Seeing you squirm is funny, but really, you're acting like it's so much worse than it is. What a weakling, so sensitive.

It's just gonna be stuff you're used to anyway…

Which is somewhat true. You're used to the demand for private, custom content.

Men pay you sometimes incredible amounts of money for the stuff. Usually, the customization is about personalization — sometimes it's kind of sad, wanting you to say their name or that you love them while you look at the camera, and sometimes it's just more niche fetish stuff, like pictures of your feet or wearing a weird costume.

But everything this mystery man wants is different — the personalization has to do with the fact that it's painful, humiliating, or both. Moreover, he's never content with the first try.

Stuffing your holes with toys and sitting down on them so they go all the way in, specifically, ‘as many as you can fit’ — but even after the painful effort of getting one in each hole—

>That's not enough.

You can fit at least one more somewhere. And you're intentionally using the smaller toys, aren't you? You won't be able to do that next time, so don't try that again.

Then there's the command to get those clamps on your nipples you used in a video of yours a long time ago, the ones connected to each other by a chain, and to tighten them then pull hard enough for them to come off. You have to take a few deep breaths to summon the ability to do it, and even then, it takes a few tugs to get them to come off. By the time they do, your nipples are swollen and red and your eyes are watery from the sting, but nonetheless, a message comes through within a minute of sending the video.

>You didn't tighten them all the way first.

>Do it over.

Or the one to deep throat that one huge toy you have, the one you used in this one video a long time ago — which you now regret ever posting, since there's a reason that you never used that monstrosity again, much less in your throat. At first you're not even sure you can fit it into your mouth, but you force it somehow.

On and on the demands come. He's not paying for any of it, of course, but the premise is the same.

Still, it's not enough. Come on, you didn't even get it very far in, you have to at least get half down your throat. And you didn't hold the phone close enough, can't hear your gagging choking sounds.

>Do it again.

The timing is often terrible, shortly before or after your classes, or odd hours of the night, forcing you to stop whatever you're doing to meet the demand. Thankfully, though, at least you've never gotten a message from him during your meetups with your class partner — you're certain your distress would show on your face, and it would be hard to come up with an excuse for it.

It becomes such routine, and all happens so quickly, it feels surreal, like you're just forced to accept it and go with it. There’s no time to really process it, as you have to get back to doing your school work and going to class and trying to keep up with your regular video content, it's all so overwhelming, yet so simple, you just have to do what you have to do.

One moment you're slapping yourself in the face while you bounce up and down on a toy so long that it bruises your insides for some jerk that's blackmailing you, and running to class the next, desperately trying to rub at the marks on your face to make them go away.

You're worried that the stress is beginning to show. Your most recent quiz scores are lower than usual, you're getting less sleep. Your insides are always sore. You're paranoid and uneasy, and you know it has to be somewhat evident.

Some of the individual demands have lasting consequences, too. Once you were commanded to choke yourself with a belt on camera, specifically until it left bruises… which you begged and protested against because you had one of your class partner meet-ups scheduled for later the same day, but your tormentor said he didn't care and insisted, so you did it, forcing yourself to go through it… and sending an additional picture at the end just to show the purplish marks in detail, up close.

It wasn't the end of the world for your meeting though — the weather wasn't right for it, but you found something that covered your neck up, at least, so the bruises didn't show. That much, at least, allows you to be at ease… although your classmate seems to be in a particularly bad mood that day.

On another occasion, you find yourself laying on your side, gasping and wincing trying to force one of the larger toys you have into your ass, all the way to the base as instructed, toes curling as you pump it back and forth, in and out… only to be told you weren't supposed to touch yourself while you did it, so, predictably, you have to do it again, the ring of muscle clenching down as it's stretched — and, of course, the act leaves a remnant sensation lasting the rest of the day. You have to rush it too, or you'll be late, due to the horrible timing of the command.

You manage to get to class, but when you move to sit, an ache of pain runs up your spine from your poor abused hole, and you wince, face grimacing at the pain.

It doesn't go unnoticed. The guy next to you, ever observant to everything except the professor, casts a lazy glance over to you, looks you up and down before asking what’s the matter, albeit in a half-caring, bored tone of voice…

You give the oh, nothing, I'm fine! response, stammer out something about hurting your leg yesterday, and he merely gives you an 'ah' of acknowledgement before turning his gaze back down… he rests his chin against his hand so that his mouth is covered up, but you swear, you can detect a slight grin from the shape of his eyes. You suppose it checks out that he'd find your clumsiness amusing, even if it's a lie.

On and on it goes. All the time. Day in, day out. It starts off as once per day, but then your tormentor starts piling smaller requests on top of those. Even beyond the daily video, you get increasingly frequent messages at all times of the day — to take a picture of your tits or ass, or a short video of you fingering yourself, or some sort of angle or pose of your body, writing something on your skin, so on and so on.

He doesn't accept any delays, either. You only get a few minutes to fulfill a demand before getting an impatient follow-up asking what the hold up is. Sleep isn't an excuse either, so you're told, so you have to start turning your phone on loud at night to wake you if need be.

You sense a growing impatience. The frequency increases still, as does the intensity of the content you're forced to make. It's as if it's building up to something — surely it has to reach a limit, or he has to get bored, or he'll ditch you and find a new outlet for his sadistic thrills, you hope. You just hope it ends in a way that's positive for you… but you're afraid of the opposite. What if even after all this, he just ruins your life anyway? It's a very real possibility, one you begin considering increasingly as you think over the whole situation.

The increasing severity and number of demands makes you feel like he's getting more upset, as if you're doing something that makes him mad, even though you have no idea what that could be.

You are right, though.

He's also noticed how much more frequently he gets the urge to demand something from you. How much more the itch has grown, the compulsive need to see you hurting and degrading yourself more and more. You've long since passed the point where he has more videos and photos of you all to himself than those available online — he's been counting — but it's still not enough.

And with the realizations that he's engaging with you more, he realizes that he's also thinking about you more.

No, “more” isn't quite accurate. All the time. Constantly. You never leave his head, everything else feels like a distraction.

And that's only more infuriating. He's very self-aware, realizes it's getting worse, realizes you essentially occupy his thoughts every waking second.

Even then, the distractions aren't working. At one point he realized he literally cannot stop himself from messaging you, it's a compulsion, a need, and the realization of his own lack of self-control regarding it is maddening. He actively tried, told himself to wait until the next day, but just couldn't. Even if he plays games or watches whatever brain-rotting media he tries to consume, his thoughts keep drifting to you. Hell, ever since latching onto you, he’s stopped harassing other random women online in general, and that was pretty much one of his biggest hobbies in the past.

What gives you the right? To get inside his head like that? Make him constantly distracted and wondering about what you're doing, forcing him to keep tabs on you? What makes you think you can just come into his life and control him like this, and think you'll get away with it? You've more or less taken advantage of an innocent person who did nothing wrong to you. Used your body to exploit his weaknesses and manipulate him into doing all this.

You don't get to do that. You have to be held accountable.

You're constantly making him worry about you, what you're doing, who you're talking to, and not knowing is a maddening feeling. It feels like nausea, a sick feeling that completely consumes the mind, rendering it incapable of doing or focusing on anything else, only cycling the same obsessive rage and worry and paranoia until it becomes unbearable.

But there's a way to get rid of that, and give you what you deserve, and get what you owe him all at the same time.

He waits, only another week or so — a frustrating week, but spent planning ahead and gathering necessary stuff — but finally, given the timing, you send a text he was hoping you'd send asking about meeting up again, to finish up the project as the end of the semester approaches.

You're a bit caught off-guard by the message, not to mention how quickly he replies.

>Come over here.

You hesitate, re-reading to try and ensure that you're understanding correctly, and finally ask for clarification that he means to his place.

He says yes. Something about how he's supposed to have something delivered that he'll have to sign, and so he has to be at the apartment when that happens, so, y'know, best for you to come over.

Which is nice.

It's just… odd.

Inviting you over, even if for a required activity, feels very out of line with the person you've come to know, however surface-level said knowing may be. Then again, maybe this is the guy's way of trying to be nice. Everyone expresses appreciation differently.

You're still thinking on it when he adds another text saying that his roommate will be there, preemptively apologizes for any disturbance that will cause… well, you figure if someone else is there, it can’t be anything sinister. That helps you make up your mind, so you agree. At this point, you know each other well enough to warrant trust.

…It’s still pretty awkward, though. The apartment is about like a picture you would expect to see uploaded to the internet as a joke about male living spaces. Borderline barren, barring the computer and the bare minimum furniture and appliances needed to survive, plus some clothes and empty cans and such strewn in various places across the floor, all dark lighting and void of color.

That being said, you quickly realize the apartment is only a studio, and there’s only one bed. The roommate doesn't exist.

And something just feels wrong, in a way you can’t articulate. Like your instincts are urging you to leave. You feel uneasy. Goosebumps spread across your skin. Are you just being paranoid…?

There is something else, though, that immediately catches your attention. You notice that the wall isn’t exposed, rather, most of the room is covered with a layer of some sort of paneling, lining the wall almost as thoroughly as wallpaper. You inquire what it is.

Soundproofing.

An unpleasant answer, but he wouldn’t be so upfront about it unless it was for harmless reasons. You refrain from inquiring about the other odd things you start to notice — locks on some cabinets despite seemingly living alone, a roll of tape sitting on the desk with no discernable purpose.

As awkward as the tension is, you really have no option but to sit on the bed, as its the only surface other than the floor. You try not to contemplate how often the average college-aged boy washes bedsheets.

It occurs to you, though, that right now would be the worst possible timing for a message from your unknown harasser, and you certainly can’t take any photos or videos here… thus, just as you sit down and begin to work, you pick up your phone from where you set yours next to his, and type out a quick message, basically pleading with the unknown man to leave you along for the next few hours, because, as you explain, you literally can’t do anything for the time being.

You read it over, and hit send.

And before you can even put the phone back down, there's a vibration a mere arms-length away from you, as the other phone in the room lights up.

And there, in the notification that pops up on the screen, are the very words you just sent.

…

…

There's a few seconds where nothing happens.

Both your heads naturally turn to the sound the moment it happens, but after that, it's just… still. You’re frozen still, he’s frozen still. Both your eyes go wide, and the quiet seconds pass, processing the information before you.

And then, he sighs, body relaxing, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose, muttering as if met with some major inconvenience.

God, why do you have to make this more difficult.

Besides, he already turned the lock that locks you in from the inside, even though you probably weren’t aware of what it was, so you’re already trapped anyway. And you squeal, of course, predictably, but that’s what the soundproof panels are for.

He's not particularly worried like he would have been any other time — this was the plan now anyway, but you're throwing things off schedule. Yet another transgression to hold you accountable for.

You do try to run. You at least deserve that much credit. He was so close to considering you a genuine marvel of human evolution, with how nonfunctional your survival instincts seemed to be.

But you’re sitting with your legs folded, so, you don’t have the time required to stand any chance of hopping up and running. The moment your legs start to move to stand, he’s already got you by the arm.

You even seemed to process everything a bit quicker than he would have thought. Maybe you’re not that stupid after all, just… a little less.

You still are incredibly stupid though. He’s almost surprised you agreed to come. So naive, so dumb, so trusting.

And so loud. Squealing like a little animal caught by a predator — which, well, isn’t too far off, but it still hurts his ears.

Shut up, shut up, shut up…

You can hear the growling voice in your ear, even now that he has your face pressed into the mattress, arm latched around your waist. You’re squirming so hard too, but even fighting with all the strength you can summon, it feels like trying to push back a brick wall. He seems to notice as much as you do.

…Is that actually the best you can do?

Not the first time he’s said those words to you — though before, it was over text, mocking you into filling all those perverse desires. It feels far more biting now.

And it’s so, so, so satisfying to see you realize just how dumb you are, as you put everything together. To watch you slowly grasp everything, realize just how badly you’ve fucked up. He even flips you onto your back just to see your face go through all the stages of emotion. It’s hilarious, and adorable too. The confusion and betrayal and panic and anger.

Oh, you get so mad. It’s actually the best part. You’re practically snarling now, reaching up to try and claw at him, kicking, baring your teeth. Any traces of the sweet demeanor you once held is long gone as you lash out… and then, a purely and entirely euphoric transition to fear.

Aw. Poor thing. After you struggle so much, your breathing gets faster, the fury dissipates as your eyes well with tears. The demands to let you go turn to miserable little pleas.

Maybe you can go back and forth. Maybe if he taunts you again you’ll get angry once more, and then if he slaps you you’ll get meek and fearful again? That would be nice, to have reliable ways to switch your emotions around, as if controlling them with a button. There will be plenty of time to find out later.

But now he gets the opportunity to finally tell you how long you made him wait for this. Mocks you for how naive you were. Brings up specifics from all those videos you sent him. Did you think it would just be left at that? Did you really not realize it wouldn’t be enough? No, of course you didn’t, and that’s why you ended up coming here like the dumb little slut you are.

And look, you even wore something so easy to flip up, practically easy access. You just have no shame at all, do you. See, it goes in perfectly because you’ve been using those toys for those videos, and… ah, so that’s— that’s what it feels like… holy shit… this is what you basically robbed him of all this time? Now you’ll really have to suffer to make up for it…

Well, you wouldn’t get it. It’s about what you did subconsciously, mind games and all that. His torment was intentional on your end, and that’s what matters. Now you'll get to spend a very very long time atoning for it. You should be happy. You won't even have to worry about making money anymore.

This wouldn’t be happening to you if you didn’t do what you did to him, you know. It’s your fault. He tells you so. And when you look up at him, eyes welled with tears, stammering out a question of what he means—

What did I ever d-do to you…?

—he realizes that it’s… difficult to give that question a concrete answer.

What did you do, really...?

The only problem that remains is how you rushed things. He was at least going to wait until you finished the project, but now it’s incomplete… do professors grant extensions if your partner goes missing…?