#I have a bulletin if you need more information

[angeltreasure]

Thinking about this Catholic Church I went to over the weekend near the boarder of Utah.

It’s no secret that church attendance is dying more and more. There’s hardly anyone left at this one. The poor priest we had was advanced in years, you knew he probably had to be out of retirement to help, and struggled to even walk with a back so hunched over. When I saw him struggle, it made me want to cry. He had absolutely no one to help him at the altar, no deacons, no extra priest, no altar boys, no altar girls, just a couple door greeters opposite side of where the altar is. They used pre-recorded music because they had no piano player. Poor Father was too weak to give us Holy Communion himself. He had one of the sisters do it in his place. Normally, he said, a Catholic school would be supported by its church next to it but instead, since Mass attendance has dropped significantly, the school itself is supporting the church. The school itself has sisters that teach 51 students maximum. I don’t know how many families used to attend Mass there, but my heart felt so sad. Father says if we knew anyone that could support them financially, to reach out to them. If you are in a position where you can donate, please see the link below. If you are unable to donate, please don’t feel pressured or obligated to do so, but I ask you to join me in prayer.

Immaculate Heart of Mary Catholic Church

PO Box 1387

455 S. Lake Powell Blvd.

Page, AZ 86040-1387

Website link:

Immaculate Heart of Mary Catholic Church

Facebook link:

Immaculate Heart of Mary Catholic Church

[spencereidluver]

A is for About Time

summary: You’re paired up with Spencer on a mostly physiological case… He’s impressed with how many of his obscure references you understand and how you’re able to carry on conversations with him unlike anyone else.

word count: 1.3k

warnings: details of a case: strangulation, blood writing

“y/n and Reid, I need you to stay here at the station while the rest of us go search the area.” Hotch said, handing you and Spencer each a file. “There’s information about the case in here. The PD thinks we’re dealing with someone who is able to outsmart that of the normal man. We need both of your heads on this. Got it?”

You and Spencer both nodded. You were smart, no denying it, but you know he knows everything you know times two.

You’ve only been in the BAU six months, but you’d only need to know Spencer two minutes to know just how intelligent he is. You don’t quite understand why Hotch wants you to stay back on this case with him, but who are you to deny the man.

You and Spencer take the Manila folders and make your ways to the conference room. He does a little jog to catch up with you. “You know, I’ve never had anyone else stay back with me on cases like these.” He says as he slows his step to match yours.

“Yeah, we’ll maybe you’ve never had anyone quite on your level Dr. Reid.” you joke as you pull the glass door open. There’s a bulletin board with photos from the case. You see Spencer grimace at them out of your peripheral. No matter how many cases you go on, this is one thing that will never be easy for anyone in this job.

Spencer sprawls out his folder on the half-circle-shaped wooden table in the center of the small office. The first image is a photo from the crime scene. It’s a white brick wall with blood writing, it reads:

“in this moment, she was mine, mine, fair, perfectly pure and good”

“It’s a poem.” He says. “Porphyria’s Lover.”

You interrupt him, “a mid 1800’s poem written by Robert Browning.”

“You’ve heard of it?”

“A poem in which a beautiful woman’s lover strangles her with her own hair? Yeah I’ve heard of it.”

He flips through a few more pages in the folder. They’re all just copies of what’s on the bulletin. You’re not too sure why you were each given folders containing the same pictures, but I guess consistency is key in this job.

“I never took you as an 1800s poem freak, y/n.” He says with a smile that you can’t quite tell the intention behind.

“Maybe you’re not as many levels ahead of me as you thought, Dr. Reid.”

_____

It’s only day two of the case, but between stupid jokes and bonding over old literature, there’s only one thing you cannot seem to pinpoint the reasoning for. And probably the only way you’ll be able to directly connect to the unsub.

He’s working off a dating app. He searches for women who meet his physical criteria, then stalks them until he’s able to pounce. Smart guy. Very smart guy.

“The one thing I just cannot understand is why if the poem he’s working off of is so keen on blonde hair, why have only half of our victims been blondes?” Spencer says, reading through a print-out of the original poem.

“Maybe the women with brown hair were just more available?” You say, not sure if you believe it.

Spencer takes a sip of his coffee. “No, a man like this would want blondes. He’s working of the exact motive of the poem.”

“And he must have a lot of time with his victims to be able to strangle them with their hair.”

You and Spencer spend hours reading over the poem and investigating that photos. Hotch comes back to the station to bring photos from yet another crime scene. Another blonde. If anything, that takes you further from figuring him out, messing up the blonde-brown-blonde-brown victim order.

“There’s no way he’s picking these victims at random. He’d have to spend far too long watching them to know their work schedule to be able to get into their apartments.” Hotch says. “I need you guys to further analyze the poem. It could have the key and hopefully we can find him before he strikes again.”

You and Spencer spend a further hour and a half looking over and annotating the poem. You’re both about to give up on the poem when you notice something: the rhyme scheme.

“A-B-A-B-B,” you think outloud.

“What?” Spencer is confused.

“The rhyme scheme, Spencer. It’s A-B-A-B-B. Auburn-Blonde-Auburn-Blonde-Blonde. That has to be it!”

“So he’ll go back to the beginning. He’s looking for his next victim with auburn hair, just like Julia Dempsey and Katie Flanagan. Nice catch, y/n. We’ve gotta call Hotch.”

He pulls out his phone and dials the eight digits quickly. He fills in Hotch on the info you find as you email over to Garcia. It’s only a matter of time before Morgan and Hotch move in on the man, Garcia finding him from a simple categorical search of dating profile preferences.

_____

You’re sat on the jet next to Spencer on your way home. You’re going on about old literature and artifacts pertaining to them. No one else understands a word either of you are saying, but they’re rather in awe of how the two of you are able to bounce off each other and carry on about, what to them, is utter nonsense.

It’s late. Early. Well, both. 2:47 AM. You’re leaned with your elbow on the table and your head in your hand looking and Spencer as he recites an old poem from memory. His voice is calm and warm. JJ and Emily are asleep in the booths next to you, Hotch minding his own in the back, and Rossi and Morgan make small talk a little closer to the front.

“y/n?” You hear your name being whispered.

You hum in response, opening your eyes to see a wide-eyed Spencer looking at you.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up.” He says.

“It’s okay. I’m kinda glad you did, my neck would be sore when we land.”

“We’re still three hours from Virginia. Think you can make it that long?”

“Hell no, I’m exhausted.” You try cross your arms on the table, laying your head in them as you try to get comfortable.

“That position may feel better on your neck, but it’ll do a number on your back in record time.”

“Well, Spencer, there’s only so much room to work with on this jet.”

“I can move so you can lay in the seat if you’d like. But that could also hurt your neck considering you’ll be lying flat and have no incline.”

“Well then why don’t you tell me the most comfortable position and let me sleep in peace.”

“Studies show the best position for sleeping without a pillow is leaning against a wall or something of an upright nature. But there are no walls to lean up against, so you’re pretty much out of luck there y/n.”

He shifts in his seat, reaching for the blanket behind him. He tosses it at you and settles back down. He sips from his coffee. No wonder he’s not going to sleep, he drinks coffee 15 out of the 24 hours in a day.

You scoot a bit closer to him, wrapping the blanket around yourself. You tip your head forward, groaning. Tiredness overcomes you more than it already has, making it near impossible to even keep your eyes open.

“Hey, Spence…” You look up at him. His head tilts down to meet your gaze, flattening his lips in form of response. “Can I…” You let your sentence fade out, pushing yourself closer to him.

He softens his voice. “Hmm?”

Before he can even finish his hum your head has slumped on his shoulder and you’re already falling unconscious on him. You feel him reach his arm around you- pulling the blanket up- you assume. He does that, but his arm never leaves. His head flops gently on top of yours, his one unruly waft of hair falling over his face. You could stay like this forever.

“It’s about time those two realize how similar they are.” You hear Rossi’s gravely voice say.

And just like that, you’re asleep, in what is probably the most comfortable you’ve ever been in your life.

_____

next chapter: b is for Boy Genius

_____

a/n: hiii! i really hope you enjoyed the first chapter! Chapter 2 will be released tomorrow! Sorry if this one was a little boring, I promise the next chapter is more interesting. Im just trying to set up the story a little before we get into it!

[femsolid]

Last month, the Daily Mail reported on the shocking case of 15-year-old Olivia Maunder, who was told by Frimley Park Hospital to try a mindfulness app to deal with her ‘indescribable agony’. It turned out she had a tumour in her pelvis. On one of the many occasions she was taken to A&E, she was told to ‘calm down’. On another, she was told that she was just ‘mirroring [her] mum’s pain as she had had back problems’. She and her mum were told it was all down to stress. By the time the tumour was discovered, it was so extensive that surgery was no longer an option. Olivia now has a few months to live. I had a personal experience of this some years ago, when a friend lost the use of her legs and was offered mindfulness classes rather than a mobility scooter. No doubt she was expected to use the power of her mind to teleport. I wonder if men are told to go away and be mindful as much as women are? I very much doubt it. We didn’t need the arrival of terms like ‘cervix-havers’ and ‘menstruators’ – but never ‘prostate-havers’ and ‘ejaculators’ – to know that the medical profession has always treated women differently. Women are 50 per cent less likely to be diagnosed after having a heart attack, are given less CPR than men, and are more likely to be given sedatives – rather than painkillers – for pain than men. While the NHS has been busy erasing such hate-speech terms as ‘mother’ and ‘breastfeeding’ from their public-information bulletins, NHS maternity negligence claims have doubled in the past decade. Last year, it was revealed that more than 200 babies and nine mothers had died due to bad care at the Shrewsbury and Telford NHS Trust alone. Sadistic doctors no longer perform lobotomies on women as a cure for promiscuity, or diagnose any female behaviour unpleasing to men as ‘hysteria’, but as Caroline Criado-Perez’s 2019 book, Invisible Women, pointed out, the medical system is ‘from root to tip, systematically discriminating against women, leaving them chronically misunderstood, mistreated and misdiagnosed’. Women are still being told that extreme illnesses are all in their minds. Nicolette Baker, a woman from Cornwall, shrunk to three stone because her doctors insisted that she was anorexic, repeatedly sectioning her. She is dying of Superior Mesenteric Artery Syndrome. Kirsty Maxwell, from Perthshire, was repeatedly told she had an eating disorder and was given everything from Gaviscon to antidepressants. She had terminal cancer. Doctors certainly seem to know what a woman is when it suits them – someone you tell to ‘calm down, dear’. This is the most lethal kind of gaslighting. It needs to be tackled, not zhuzhed up with twaddle like mindfulness. It’s thought to be worth around $4 billion, taking in everything from meditation apps to the 60,000 books on Amazon including the word ‘mindfulness’ in their titles, including Mindful Finance, Mindful Leadership and Mindful Dog Owners. This is all despite the increasing evidence that too much navel-gazing can increase depression and decrease your ability to withstand pain – even though dealing with pain is precisely what mindfulness is often prescribed for.

[munsonslove]

Hi! I would like to make a request if I may? Can you do a smutty/fluffy where the reader is pregnant and super horny and wakes Eddie up in the middle of the night for it? He's normally all soft daddydom but he's just like "take what you need from me" and then reader is semi embarrassed about it...

I Waited All Day... 

(18+ only)

a/n: thank you so much for being my first requester, hope you love it! (sorry about it taking like a thousand words to get to the actual smut. i am physically incapable of just getting to the good part of a fic and MUST write a whole ass backstory)

summary: Eddie's more than happy to be woken up by his girl in the middle of the night when her pregnancy hormones are making her needier than usual.

wordcount: 4.2k

tags/warnings: fem!reader, established relationship, VERY vague mentions of reader having a troubled past, reader being forced to move out of her mother’s house, very small drug mention, use of pet names (babe, beautiful, handsome, sweetheart, sweet girl), talks of marriage, pregnancy, mentions of masturbation (f), brief mention of oral (f receiving), p in v penetration, daddy kink, praise kink, unprotected sex (she’s already preggo and they’re monogamous, otherwise yeah use a condom y’all), no use of y/n

People like to talk. When you first moved to Hawkins during your senior year, you were everyone’s favorite topic of conversation. From the moment you first walked through the school’s halls, they expected you to fit in one of the boxes created for you. The idea of fresh meat excited them, and students from all different social cliques flocked to you, trying to figure out your deal. They wanted to know if you were going to be the ‘Party Girl’, or the ‘Cheerleader’, or the ‘Girl Next Door’. It wasn’t until the self-designated popular crowd of Hawkins High was escorting you to the cafeteria and you excitedly pointed out the flier on the bulletin board with a cartoon D20 that they realized you weren’t going to be one of them.

Eddie Munson had been your rock throughout that tough last year of school. Moving so late in your educational career was definitely not ideal, but it was necessary due to unforeseen circumstances. When you eventually told Eddie about everything, he was there for you in a way you never thought you’d be lucky enough to get, and he understood how you felt considering he’d had a less-than-perfect life himself. Having him to talk to without the fear of being pitied or being a burden made you feel safe, and it wasn’t long until you were falling in love. Thankfully, he felt the same way, and your fairytale love story had begun. But once again, people like to talk. And stare. The criticizing looks whenever you would walk to class hand in hand were not subtle, and the whispered rumors were judgmental to say the least. Still, you were happy. The happiest you had been in a very long time. It was you and Eddie, everything else was background noise.

When you graduated and he stayed behind to retake his senior year, everyone was shocked that you didn’t break up with him. Especially your mother, who assumed he was just a rebellious phase and that you’d be done with him once high school was behind you. When another year passed, and Eddie was once again informed that he would be repeating his senior year, she gave you an ultimatum: break up with him or move out. So you started living with Eddie and his uncle at the trailer park. It was a tight squeeze, but it would hopefully only be until graduation, and Wayne was happy to see his nephew so in love. Summer came and went, you were working as a waitress at a local diner and Eddie was going to school and bussing tables at the Hideout on nights when his band wasn’t playing. The both of you made plans for your future together, saving money to get the hell out of Hawkins. When Eddie took the pregnancy test out of your shaking hands and looked up at you with excited eyes, you thanked your lucky stars you had already put a down payment on a mobile home.

As it would turn out, it wasn’t just the kids you went to high school with who liked to talk, the people at the diner did too. Your coworkers never liked your boyfriend, always making comments behind their hands about his tattoos and ripped jeans. They would pull you aside and ask why you hadn’t dumped him yet whenever he pulled up in his van to take you home at the end of your shift. Your answer in the past had always been the same. “Because,” you would say while rolling your eyes, “he’s the love of my life.” The look on everyone’s faces when your answer finally changed to “Because he’s the father of my child,” was absolutely priceless. According to them, you were making the mistake of your lifetime by having a baby at 20, and Eddie would bail the first chance he got. Little did they know that Eddie had taken the responsibility of parenthood very seriously. His grades were already significantly better than they had been in previous years, ensuring that he would receive his diploma next month, and he was taking every extra shift he could at the bar while continuing to sell for Reefer Rick. It was still scary as hell, but your due date wasn’t until the end of November. He and you would be fully settled into your new home together by then, nursery painted and ready for your bundle of joy.

The one bad thing about Eddie’s determination to take as much of the stress off of you as he could was that he had a lot of busy days. Of course he made absolutely sure to set aside time for you, but on this particular day he was out of the trailer from sunrise to sunset. He woke you up gently with a kiss to the forehead before kissing you in some other places (you would have been annoyed that he almost made you late to work, but honestly the orgasm was worth it). After dropping you off at the diner, he booked it to school, where he and the rest of the Hellfire Club stayed after the final bell had rung to play a couple hours of his latest campaign (that you sadly couldn’t join in on considering you helped plan it). His final destination before coming home was the Hideout, where he was scheduled to work until midnight. This meant you’d likely not see him until the next morning, considering he was always extra careful to not wake you when climbing into bed.

As for your own day after being dropped off, you had a pretty bad bout of morning sickness during the breakfast rush. Apparently no one likes to watch their waitress exit the restaurant in a rush so she can empty the contents of her stomach into the very visible-from-the-window trash can, so your boss sent you home at 11am instead of 2pm. Thankfully, your tables were understanding, and made sure to leave you hefty tips and encouraging words of advice on motherhood. Their sweetness combined with your hormones nearly made you cry on the bus ride home.

Speaking of hormones, you were horny. It was hard not to be when you had a boyfriend like Eddie, who fucked you brainless and knew exactly how to talk dirty to you with words that would play on repeat in your head for weeks afterward. Currently, memories of last night were the main cause for the wetness in between your legs. Eddie had you pinned down by the wrists and was pummeling in and out of you. You came after his promise of fucking you in every room against every surface once you finally moved into your place together. 

When you arrived home from work three hours early and explained that you got sick, Wayne was concerned. Once you changed into some sweats and one of Eddie’s shirts, he made you rest on the couch as he got lunch ready, and you ate together while watching TV. Sneaking off to ‘take care’ of yourself wasn’t an option, and you wouldn’t want to do that with uncle Wayne in the house anyway. Eventually, the evening came and he had to leave for his night shift at the plant, so you were left alone. The second the front door shut, you were flopping down onto the bed and shoving your hand into your panties. Relief was illusive, unfortunately. Instead of pleasured moans the room was filled with frustrated grunts. After having Eddie’s fingers, your own just weren’t the same. You begrudgingly gave up and gave in to your exhaustion, quickly falling into a deep sleep.

After what felt like mere minutes, your heavy eyes were blinking open. The light from the sunset was completely gone, and there was a warmth pressed into your back and wrapped around your torso. Carefully, you rolled over and smiled at Eddie’s relaxed face. You loved his loud personality and sarcastic humor, but during the nighttime- when you got to see the side of him no one else saw- that’s when you fell in love all over again. The door was slightly cracked, letting in a small amount of light from the hallway (Eddie says he likes to watch you sleep while he drifts off). Although it was dim, you could still see how beautifully peaceful he looked as he slept beside you. Glancing over at the nightstand showed the alarm clock reading ‘12:31’, meaning that Eddie got home probably around ten minutes ago, stripped down to his boxers, slipped his rings and necklace off onto the dresser, took you into his arms, and promptly passed out. The devil on your shoulder is reminding you of the arousal that’s been bothering you all day, while the angel is telling you to let him rest. You know you should, he’s obviously drained from such a long day and he has school in seven hours, but the pulsing between your legs is not easy to ignore. Seeing his chest tattoos on full display wasn’t doing you any favors in the ‘let him get some sleep’ department either.

“Babe,” you whisper as you lightly shake his shoulder, “babe, wake up.” His eyes scrunch up adorably, and even when they finally open it’s clear that he’s still not fully conscious.

“Huh- wha?” he mumbles before blinking slowly a few more times. He stretches his arm out above his head and you watch his pupils dilate when his eyes focus on you. “Hey there, beautiful,” he says more clearly. A smile grows on his face while his hand finds its way to your cheekbone, caressing you softly.

You smile back, but bite your lip as you prepare to tell him why you woke him up in the middle of the night after he worked a seven hour shift. “Hey yourself, handsome.”

He blushes at the compliment until he realizes it’s not morning yet, and his eyebrows furrowed together. “Wait, what’s wrong? Is everything okay? Do you need something? Is it the baby?” he starts rambling worriedly.

To be fair, this was rather uncommon behavior from you. Ever since the start of your relationship, having sex with Eddie was one of your favorite things in the world, but that didn’t mean you weren’t still shy about it. He did his best to break you out of your comfort zone and let you know that it’s okay to ask for what you need, but even after almost three years together you still were in the habit of waiting for him to initiate intimacy.

“I’m fine, the baby’s fine,” you reassure him while rubbing your hand up and down his chest. “I just- um, well I missed you all day,” you try to explain, hoping he picks up on what you’re trying to say.

His frantic expression immediately calms. “Aw, sweetheart,” he croons with a soft peck to the tip of your nose, “I missed you too. I always miss you when you’re not around.” Giggling anxiously, you look away. He rests his hand over yours to still your subconsciously fiddling fingers on his chest. “Is my girl getting shy? Tell me what you need.”

Warmth overtakes your cheeks as you lean in closer to whisper even quieter, “I… need you.” As you say this, your hand travels down his torso to the waistband of his boxers, and your thighs flex as they squeeze together.

His eyes light up excitedly, both at the prospect of sex and your uncharacteristic boldness. “Do you, now?” he asks, his voice lowered seductively as his own hand makes its way to your side and pulls you closer to him, your pelvises flush together. “My sweet girl needs me? You need daddy’s cock?”

A shaky moan escapes from the bottom of your throat the moment he calls himself that. It wasn’t completely new territory, you’d both experimented with using that word since the beginning of your relationship, but he definitely used it more frequently since learning the good news last month.

“Please, daddy,” you whine, “I waited all day. Don’t tease me.”

“All day, huh?” he hums as his fingers hook underneath the elastic of your sweatpants, dipping into your underwear and grazing your wet folds. His eyebrows shoot up. “Fuck, sweetheart. You’re soaked.”

“I told you!” you exclaim as you start rutting your hips against his hand. Taking the hint, he immediately starts circling your clit after leaning in to passionately lock lips with you. You struggle to return the kiss, your mouth stuck in an open ‘O’ shape as your hand fists in his long hair. Your moans only grow louder as you seek out your climax, his quiet voice guiding you there with sweet words.

“You’re so perfect, so fucking sexy like this,” he praises, “I can’t believe how good you are for me. Always so ready. Waiting for me, all wet and willing in our bed.” Eddie liked to do that, remind you that this bed was both yours and his. He loved the word ‘our’, loved to establish that the rest of your lives would be shared together. “Did you touch yourself while you waited for me to come home, beautiful?”

“Y- yes,” you answered truthfully, “but it wasn’t the same. Couldn’t finish” Although there wasn’t much light in the bedroom, and your vision was starting to blur, you knew your boyfriend well enough to know that this complaint brought a smug smirk to his face.

“No?” he asks, his fingers changing direction on your clit and circling the opposite way. The sudden adjustment has you gasping and throwing your head back, and he seizes the opportunity to kiss your neck for a moment, before going back to his questioning. “Why wasn’t it the same?”

The memory of your failed attempts at orgasm forces a frustrated groan from you. “Not the same without you,” you explain, confused as to how this wasn’t obvious already. “Not as good without you with me. When I can’t feel you, hear you… Just not the same.”

“I’m sorry, sweet girl,” he apologizes. He truly does sound sorry now, the mocking lilt in his tone vanishing, “I wish I was there for you earlier, don’t want my girl to suffer.”

Trying to clear your head enough to respond is a challenge, especially when you’re sure your orgasm is so close, but you manage to do it anyway. “Don’t have to say sorry,” you soothe him, “you’re here for me now. You’re always here for me.”

“And I will be, for the rest of our lives,” he promises, full of emotion. Then, your stomach flips as his words turn lustful, the vibrations from his deepened voice piercing through you almost violently. “Doing so good, fucking yourself on my fingers. That feel good like that, babe?” he questions, “You want it faster? Harder? I’ll give you anything you need.”

“I need you!” you cry out. “Please, I want you to fill me up, stretch me out. I need you to fuck me,” you cry, but make no efforts to move away from his hand.

“I will, I will,” he promises, “I just wanna watch my favorite girl cum this way first. Then you’ll get daddy’s cock filling you up, that’s what you want right?”

You clench around nothing, and nod your head rapidly. The heat in your belly only grows as Eddie continues his motions. It pushes you over the edge when he starts sucking on your pulse point, the exact spot on your neck that he knows drives you crazy. You can no longer hold off your climax, and you cling to him helplessly as he helps you to ride out your orgasm. During your release, you shake and whimper against him as he shushes into your ear while stroking your hair with his free hand. All that can be heard is a chorus of ‘Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. Oh Eddie’.

“There you go, sweetheart, there you go,” he comforts through your aimless babbling moans. “I’ve got you. Let go.”

The stinging sensation of overstimulation starts to set in, causing you to squeeze your thighs shut, but that only traps him in place. Your whines grow higher in pitch as the pleasure and pain mixture becomes too much to bear, and you feel Eddie smirk against your heated skin. Finally, he takes pity on you and lifts his hand from your center, only to close his eyes and moan as he licks his fingers clean of your juices. You roll over onto your back and turn your head to watch as you try to regain regular breathing. While he’s busy lapping up the last of the glistening mess you left behind, you sit up to pull off his shirt that you’re still wearing and toss it across the room. Immediately, you feel his callused hands gliding gently up your side and just under your chest, careful to not be too rough knowing that your breasts have become much more sensitive during your pregnancy.

“So perfect,” he murmurs, and you’re not even sure he realizes he said it out loud. He follows you into a sitting position and kisses you devotedly before pulling away to whisper, “I love you.” You shudder as you feel his soft breath on your swollen lips.

“I love you, too,” you respond back breathily, pushing back down onto his pillow. “Lay back, sweetheart,” you demand, “Daddy had a long day, so I’ll do the work, okay?”

You notice his cock twitch in his boxers as he smiles up at you lovingly with a nod. In seconds, your pants and underwear are discarded and tossed across the room as well, and Eddie lifts his hips to assist you in removing his single piece of clothing. His erection springs up, and even after all this time you can’t help the reaction it causes. Your mouth waters as you bite your lips, you feel a warmth grow once more in your lower stomach, and your eyes glaze over. Finally, after all day of waiting for this moment, you throw your leg over him and slowly slide down his length.

You both instantly let out relieved groans, and his fingers curl in on the flesh of your waist, leaving crescent shaped indents where his nails dig into you. The sting only adds to your enjoyment, sending more of that fuzzy feeling to your head and making it hard to think about anything else but how badly you want to stay like this forever. Flattening your hands on his chest, just under the ink of his tattoos, you brace yourself as you start to rock up and down. The stretch is exactly what you’ve been craving for hours, and the instantaneous relief that washes over you is almost enough to make you cry. He reaches so unbelievably deep inside of you, and as usual the entire time he is unable to keep his mouth shut.

“So good, babe. You feel so good,” he growls. “So fucking tight, and warm. Like a fucking dream. How did I get so lucky?”

“I’m the lucky one,” you correct, arms giving out under you making you collapse onto him. Your  foreheads meet as your lips fumble against each other, not quite able to correctly kiss through the loud and needy moans filling the room. His tongue enters your mouth, licking across your bottom row of teeth, and your face scrunches as you focus on chasing your high.

“You like that, don’t you? God, are you gonna cum already?” he asks after a couple minutes when he notices your rhythm faltering. Trying to hold off was futile, the bliss was overwhelming. “We just started, beautiful. You’re so much more sensitive now.”

“Pl- please, daddy,” you start to beg. For what, you’re not sure. Your cheeks burn with embarrassment. While you had (of course) always loved sleeping with Eddie, the dial turned up to eleven with your recent change in hormones. You still were unaccustomed to feeling so desperate for him all the time, and although the constant begging you were doing nowadays was humiliating, you’ve found you just can’t help it. “Please, I- I need…”

“What does my girl need?” he urges you on when your fragil voice trails off.

“I need your cum,” you finish. “I want it inside, I wanna feel it leaking out of me tomorrow at work, reminding me I’m yours.” As you confess these lewd desires, he starts cursing softly to himself. His grip tightens, bouncing you up and down on his cock with reckless abandon. 

“My sweet, shy girl. Not so shy now, are you?” he asks, head thrown back and clearly on the brink. “Not when you’re fucked out, so desperate for my cum.”

Your hips start to stutter as you grow frantic, your release getting harder and harder to hold back. “Please, I need it, daddy. I want you to fill me up.” 

“Sound so good begging for me. Daddy’s gonna fill you up,” he promises, and you feel his cock twitching as it hits you directly on you g-spot over and over, torturing you with pleasure. “Gonna fuck you full, till you can’t hold anymore.”

The final string snaps. You feel all the blood in your body rushing to your head as you curl in on yourself and call out his name over and over, him doing the same with yours. Slick moisture coats your thighs, dirty from the mess you’ve made together, and you’ve lost all strength to continue grinding. Eddie has graciously taken over, his fingers splayed over your hips as he thrusts up into you, the bed frame creaking loudly. Along with the steady rhythm of the bed meeting the wall, there’s an obscene squelching noise that only draws out your orgasm, and you’re surprised at how much the filthy sound turns you on. After needing this for so long, your body rewards you with a longer than usual release, and Eddie rides along with you throughout its duration. When the feeling finally comes to an end, you lift yourself off of your boyfriend and fall exhausted to his side, closing your eyes in embarrassment when he wastes no time turning to you to scoop up any of his seed that had leaked out and push it back inside. Although he’s gentle in doing so, a pathetic sounding whimper still escapes you.

Minutes pass as you both take some time to recover. Your heartbeat is still going wild when he raises his hand to gently comb his fingers through your hair. “God, I love you,” he murmurs, “Gonna make you mine soon.”

You try to look up at him, but your neck feels too weak, too sore from the straining it just went through. Your gaze peers up at him through thick eyelashes, and you see that he’s looking down at you as well. “I love you too, Eddie,” you respond, “I’m already yours.”

“Gonna buy you a real pretty ring,” he continued, as if you said nothing. “Almost as pretty as you. Not prettier, cause that’s impossible.” Warmth spreads over your entire body, settling in your diaphragm. The topic of marriage has been brought up before, but you can tell he’s more serious now, the youthful emptiness to those promises now disappeared. “Real soon, I promise. Just gotta move in and have the baby, then I can buy it.”

“Soon. We only gotta be patient for a little bit longer,” you comfort him. In the past, he had confided in you his disappointment that he couldn’t propose sooner. Truth be told, you would be happier than ever going down to the courthouse and signing a few papers, but he absolutely insists on buying you a ring and having a huge ceremony and reception. He said he wants to show how much he loves you, and when you protested by saying he proved his love a long time ago, he countered by admitting he wants to show everyone how lucky he got by having you fall in love with him. If waiting to have a ceremony is what’ll make him happy, then you decided you can wait as long as it’ll take. There were only a few more things on the to-do list before you could start planning: save up as much as you can before taking maternity leave, pack up and move out, have the baby, and… “And we definitely need to buy a new mattress before moving in, too.”

“What are you talking about?” he exclaims, looking at you wildly. “This mattress is where we conceived our child!”

You roll your eyes as a sudden laugh breaks out of you. “This mattress is like, one of six places where our child could have been conceived,” you argue as visions of late nights in Eddie’s van and secret meetings in the Hawkins High theater room flood your memories. “And it’s covered in stains.”

Eddie laughs along with you as he rubs up and down your back. “Fine,” he concedes, “but this is the most statistically likely place. And those stains are half your fault, you know? This bed has too many good memories,” he finishes while wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. He has a point. This dirty mattress does have a lot of good memories.

[olomaya]

Student Council (Afterschool Activities+)

18 August: This mod has been updated. Please refer to this post for more information before downloading.

12 March: Updated: Thanks to the people that let me know about the missing strings in non-English languages. It's been fixed and you can redownload the MAIN file. I also adjusted the skilling for the student council roles because sometimes it wouldn't stop after Student Council meetings so I fixed that.

7 March Update: PLEASE REDOWNLOAD Hi! Please re-download the "olomaya_StudentCouncil_MAIN" file if you downloaded it already. There was an issue with the milestone tracker so it will reset your Sim whenever you try to canvas for donations. If you have the other files, no need to redownload them, just the "MAIN" one.

I just played TS4 High School Years. The items are really cute but there's about 6 hours of gameplay in the whole pack, lol. But it got me thinking about how I wish we had more child and teen-specific stuff to do in TS3. Like Afterschool Activities which could have been more…active. So I started making a few active afterschool activities for teens. This is the first I'm releasing.

With this mod, your teen can join the Student Council where they can then take on different activities. They can run for office in the council and support school issues to try and make their school a better place. There are 8 different student issues your Sims can try to address, like buying new textbooks or running an anti-bullying campaign. Each one will require your Sim to get a certain number of signatures and raise X amount of funds. If you don’t do so by the deadline all the students will hate you (not really but also, yes). If you are successful, then all the students will get some kind of reward related to the campaign and it will increase your popularity. You can learn about student issues and the like through the Bulletin Board object.

There are 3 different Student Council elected positions you can run for which also have extra perks and each have their own unique interactions they can do as well so they are a bit more personality-based to the role.  There's more details in the documentation.

Download here

Credits/Thanks: @bioniczombie for the TS4 HSY Bulletin board object conversion and all their wonderful conversions. Battery TS3 Script Template Creator for making modding easier. 

You'll need NRaas Careers in order to load custom afterschool activities and of course, the Generations EP. Let me know if you run into any issues!

Future Updates/Additions: I do want to create some activities for council members to organize, like a beach clean up or school charity events. So that would be the plan for a V2. Also maybe doing a proper animation for the collect signatures interaction. I know TS4 has one, I couldn't get it to load through a social xml. It's a whole thing but yes, I'm aware Sign Autograph is not the ideal animation.

[rogersideup]

Nice to be Kneaded

Chapter one:

Welcome to Greenwood

Series Masterlist

Next Part: Inhale, Exhale.

Word Count: 4,893

Warnings: My blog is 18+ only. All minors or blogs without an age in bio will be blocked. Minors DNI.

The sound of the bell rattling on the front door pulled your mind away from the cake on the rotating stand in front of you and the piping bag in your hand. Coincidentally, you had just sent your cashier to break so you moved your work station to the decorating desk visible to the doorframe into the kitchen of your bakery, allowing you to see the customers as they walked in.

"Hey there, honey! I'll be right with ya'." You greeted the customer as you piped out the final details on the custom ordered cake you had spent the last half an hour perfecting.

"No worries, take your time." A polite voice responded.

Your head immediately turned at the sound of the deep and slightly raspy voice you had never heard before. In a scanty little town like Greenwood, you swore just about every friendly face within thirty miles of your bakery had stopped by for a treat at least once. You could recognize just about anyone with a blindfold on and nothing but the sound of a friendly greeting, but that charming bass was one you'd be sure to recognize if you've heard it before.

It belonged to a face you'd also be sure to recognize. An over six-foot stunner with blue eyes, a nicely groomed beard, and what looked like dirty blonde hair hidden behind a baseball cap.

You grinned before looking back at your cake, trying to process the new specimen in the lobby. It only took a few seconds before placing the piping bag down and ripping off your gloves, curiously walking out to behind the counter to help him out.

"Sorry about that, what can I get'cha?" Since you closed most of the distance, nothing but the bake case between you two, you got to notice more detail.

There was some serious muscle happening underneath the black long sleeved shirt he was wearing. Also, he was really good at picking out jeans that fit him perfectly in all the right places. Oh, and there was just a dash of green in the blue of his eyes.

"Just a chocolate chip cookie please." He asked timidly. You could tell he felt a little out of place, rocking back and forth on his heels in attempts to sooth his unsettled energy.

"Anything else?" You grinned.

"No thank you." He gently shook his head and walked over to the register as you put his cookie in a pastry bag.

"Okay but I'm giving you two cookies, because I think anyone who only gets one cookie is lying to themselves." You called out with a friendly smile, earning a chuckle from the man.

It allowed you to get a good look at his smile. He had pretty pink lips and perfect pearly whites.

Now, it was time for the investigative process you perfected to the tee. It usually started with an extra cookie and a big sparkling smile, followed by some friendly questions, and ending with a 'hope to see you again sometime soon'. You didn't mean to be invasive, really, you just needed to have all the answers when your neighbor, Georgia, asks for more information once you inevitably ask her if she knows anything about the new stunner in town.

"Well thank you, I appreciate that." He grinned, pulling the wallet out of his jeans.

"I don't think I've seen you around before, are you driving through?" You asked.

Steve shifted once more as he thought about how to answer this question. Almost every news station in the country was covering the chase for the missing superheroes post-raft-escape following the Civil War. His face had been plastered on every the cover of every news paper, fliers stapled to street lamps, posted on bulletin boards in what felt like every coffee shop in the country. If he was still in the 40's he was sure his face would take the place of the missing persons on the sides of milk cartons.

It had been just a few long months shy of a year , just long enough to grow out his hair and beard to make himself as unrecognizable as he could manage. Though he was still the poster boy of disorder within the states, it had calmed down enough for him to feel comfortable trying to settle down for as long as he safely could.

He finally found someone to rent him a house in a town quaint enough for his liking that was willing to accept under the table cash payments in rent, no proof of income, and didn't ask too many questions.

"I'm actually moving to Greenwood in the next couple days, I just picked up the keys to my new place. Saw the bakery sign and decided to stop by, figured a new start is grounds for a little celebrating." Steve explained, convincing enough.

All he could do was cross his fingers in hopes you didn't care about politics or the news enough to recognize his face.

"Really? What made you want to move here?"

He shrugged, and his lips stretched into a straight line. "Just wanted to go somewhere quiet and relaxing I guess. You know, the simple life."

"Well, most people here spend their days chasing something a bit more exciting and busy. I think you're in for exactly what you hoped for" You reassured him. "I'm sorry, honey, I didn't catch your name?"

The pet name that seemed to run off your tongue without a second thought felt warm and welcoming to him. In the big city, a sentiment like that was a title that was typically earned, but here it was given with almost an immediate understanding that everyone around was inherently good and trustworthy. He almost didn't want to tell you his name so he could keep hearing the word slip passed your lips.

"Oh, sorry!" He apologized. "I'm Steven."

Steven? Really? Already off to a bad start. He told himself when he settled down for a bit he'd be distant to the people around him. Never get too close, never tell the truth, go by an alias. But for some reason, he just couldn't get himself to lie to you. You just seemed too sweet for that.

As he took another look around his new surroundings, he chalked it up to be the homey atmosphere of the bakery. The walls were covered in tasteful art installations, celebrating the very pastries that were being perfectly displayed in the illuminated case. Although the color schemes of earth tones, contrasting yet complementary wood colors and grains, and mixed metals seemed like it wouldn't work for a bakery, it worked for this bakery. It was warm and inviting; the polished concrete floors reminded him of the home he once knew. The wall-full of jarred sprinkles in all sorts of different blends and colors to match with the bakery and playfully pull the interests of customers eyes made him feel a sense of child like wonder again.

The booths were built into cozy corners, there were lounge areas with low to the floor tables with alternate seating, a tasteful shelf full of board games for families and friends alike to play together while enjoying a coffee and a treat.

It smelled like browning butter and vanilla beans. There were throw pillows on the booths and lounges. On the main wall behind the bake case and above the beautiful espresso machines read the name of the shop, 'Nice to be kneaded' in a warm golden neon glow.

Steven it is.

"Well, Steven," You handed him the bag of cookies, he hesitated to take them from you. "Everyone who decides to make a home out of Greenwood deserves a warm welcome. Here's to a quiet and relaxing new start."

"Thanks I appreciate it" He smiled. "How much for the cooki-"

"They're on me today" You insisted.

"I couldn't possibly do that" he declined the offer. He was used to the generous hand outs as Steve Rogers, but never just as Steven. "Please let me pa-"

"Nope." You stepped back from the register. "Take them and go before I force you to take a third one!"

"So threatening!" He smiled and put his hands up in defense. "Thank you so much"

"Of course, have a good day! Hope to see you again soon." You waved, walking back into the kitchen to finish off the cake that was almost near perfect.

"Have a good one"

After finishing up the cake, you tagged the board with the invoice of the correct customer, then walked it back into the front to the cake display fridge to pop it in so it would be perfect and ready for pickup later that day.

You started tidying up the lobby of the store by re-organizing all of your retail items. Cute candy bars, greeting cards made by local artists, birthday candles, and the wall shelves full of sprinkles. You had a knack for making sure your store looked perfect and pristine at all times. It took a lot of blood, sweat and tears to get to where you were now, so you'd be damned if you let it be anything less than perfect.

You tidied up the bake case one last time and straightened up the register before the tip jar caught your eye, inside of it was a crisp $20 bill that definitely wasn't there before Steven.

Though there were a few customers in the store, all of them were students looking for a calm place to study. Headphones over their ears, their noses dug into their laptops. None of them had even moved in the last twenty minutes.

The smile and eye roll that took over your face was almost invasive, and you instantly knew the polite man would have no issue fitting in here in Greenwood.

Though you let your precious employees keep their well earned tip, you did take a $20 bill out from your own wallet and vowed to keep it with you every day until you hopefully found Steven again.

Just like every other day, you stayed at work until it was far too late before locking up and going home. You didn't even get passed your open car door in the driveway before your beloved neighbor Georgia was exiting her front door and running out of her house to greet you.

"It's about damn time, sweet cheeks, I was near ready to file a missing persons report!" She enthused.

Georgia never failed to be your best friend, gossip buddy, and the honorary mother you always wished you had. She'd send her husband to bed alone all night just to stay up and make sure you got home okay if she knew you were out late.

"Sorry" you giggled, grabbing the box of pastries you brought home with you and handing them to her. "Busy day! Treats for your troubles?"

She happily took the box from you knowing that whenever she was given one, there was always something mind-meltingly delicious on the inside. "You know Michael and I have put on a good five pounds in the last few months, and I fully blame you for it."

"Hey! I know you love a big boy, I'm doing you nothing but favors." You denied the blame. "Plus, you're pretty as a peach. A sweet thing like you deserves a sweet treat at least once a day."

"I ran over here to tell ya, we're hosting game night for the block on Saturday. If you don't come I'm going to keep rescheduling it until you do." She insisted.

"Saturday sounds lovely." You accepted the invitation. "What can I bring?"

"Just your pretty face"

"Okay, I'll bring salted caramel bars" You smiled.

"Bring a date" Georgia insisted.

"Now now, watch yourself..." You scolded, pointing your finger at her.

"You've been living in this beautiful house all by your lonesome for three years now. You know all I want is for you to be happy"

"I'm happy all on my own." You insisted with a smile you really had to force yourself to smear across your face. "I don't need a man to make me happy, I've got everything I need."

"You've got no one to prove that to but yourself, sweet cheeks." Georgia reached out and pinched your cheek between her fingers lovingly once she saw how deflated you became..

"Believe it or not, it's kind've hard to find someone worth your time in greenwood when your only options are guys you've already tried your hand at" You defended yourself.

"And what's wrong with that?" Georgia sassed.

"All the good ones are married, and all the bad ones are still bad. So if you don't mind, I'll be bringing some salted caramel bars on Saturday." You smiled.

"I haven't given up hope, and you shouldn't either!"

"Who said anything about giving up hope?" You furrowed your brows together and cocked your head to the side.

"...you have a good night now darlin'" Georgia smiled with a slight chuckle before waving and starting to walk away.

"Mmmmhmmm" You sassed. "Enjoy those pastries."

"I always do!"

The moment you walked into your humble abode, you could feel the weight of your day fall off your shoulders. Even more so as you put down your bag, kicked off your shoes, and dragged your feet up the stars with a heavy thunk on each step just to get yourself into the warm shower you had been dreaming of since waking up at 3:30am. 

Just like a responsible adult, you cooked and fed yourself dinner then ate it on the couch with a thick faux fur blanket over your lap while watching The Great British Baking Show. Georgia liked to yell at you when she invasively yet also somehow welcomely showed up at your house with no warning and caught you using your time away from baking to, well, watch a show about baking?

Your defense was that their recipes are just so different over there! The difference in American and British flavor palettes was immense, and you loved getting new ideas for fun new pastries and flavors to implement onto the rotating menu.

After scolding you, you'd point to the Television above your fireplace to show her how they were doing a technical challenge to bake the perfect Victoria sponge cake, a quintessential and uniquely british dessert, and how that was so much different than your typical vanilla sponge in the States. Then, it would peak her interest.

You were never really sure if she was actually interested, or if she only payed attention because she desperately thought you needed someone to listen to you. Sometimes when you babbled on about baking, she would slow blink at your before gently saying, "Baby, you might as well be speaking a whole other language to me right now, but I'm just so happy you're doing what you love."

She'd get comfortable on your couch as you made her a cup of tea, the end up staying until her husband Michael called and reminded her that she had a husband at home.

But tonight you were happy to just be shoving some pesto pasta in your face with the company of no one but Netflix in complete peace. The small sensation of an almost distant ache in the back of your head also had you thankful that they had finally either finished, or were taking a break from construction on the little house next door to yours.

You didn't mind it much at first, you were gone for most of the day to miss the sounds of sawing and jackhammering, but sometimes the sounds would continue even after sunset and keep you awake past your geriatric bedtime. Sleep was very important when you had to wake up before the sun.

But your mama raised you to love thy neighbor and keep patience and grace close to your heart, so you bit your tongue for five long months and occasionally showered the construction workers in warm breakfast sandwiches and croissants. You hoped that their awareness to the neighbors occupation would keep them from working late into the night, but nope. You just continued biting your tongue a little harder.

Even worse than you was Andy and Phoebe that lived two doors down, the construction happened sandwiched between you two, and they had their new born baby girl at home through all of that banging and drilling. Apparently little Willow could now sleep through anything. Their dog barking at the sound of a door bell wasn't even an equal contender against the baby who had been subconsciously trained to stay calm in the midst of chaos.

You were in bed by 7 pm, up at 3am, back at work by 4am with $20 in your back pocket. A little part of you felt stupid while slipping the green bill into your denim jeans, it was quite delusional to assume the man would be back so soon, let alone at all, but a bigger part of you couldn't stand that his free cookies were not free.

The empty bake case was filled to the brim by 6:30am, all custom orders were done by 7. You barely even got a chance to wipe the sweat off your hairline from your face being in front of the oven before taking off your chefs coat and hair net and switching it to a front-of-house apron.

You had an excellent team of trained bakers, decorators, baristas, and a cashier, but that didn't stop you from getting your hands dirty by any means. Though your team was mighty, collectively you were tiny. Only 9 employees to hold the busiest bakery in the greater area down, you tended to step in wherever you were needed the most.

Today, you just happened to be taking orders and handing out latte's through morning rush before dedicating the rest of your day on getting a head start on custom orders for tomorrow.

Then tomorrow came around and all you did was start the dough for a few loaves of sourdough, your girls were going to take over after the first rise so you could focus on the payroll and product order placement that would be delivered on Friday. You got done all the boring stuff, responded to customer emails, printed out the invoices of all the orders through Friday, sorted through and organized the endless amounts of cookie cutters in the kitchen, then cleaned out the fridge to make sure all the ingredients were properly labeled and within date.

You worked one more day after that before having your first day off in 10 days. Yes, you made your own schedule. Yes, you worked far too much. No, that's not your fault.

You started by going on a short run, and taking a shower before going to the little diner 10 minutes down the road with Georgia for breakfast. The summer heat made your thighs stick to the leather booth beneath you, and the ceiling fans gently moved your hair around but you didn't seem to mind much. How could anything be a bother to your while you we're sneakily stealing a forkful of pancakes from your Neighbor's plate as her eyes were stuck on the news that was playing on an old TV in the upper corner of the diner.

You smiled as she peeled her eyes away just to glare at you while you stuck the syrupy goodness in your mouth. A bit of sticky maple caught on your lip, threatening to drip down your chin before you even got a chance to lick it off.

"Child, you are a mess." She shook her head at you and handed you a napkin. "How are they?"

"Heavenly." You giggled, wiping away the warm syrup on your face. "Hey, is it okay if I have a bite?" You questioned after stealing her food.

"You're like the child I never wanted." She insulted in good fun. Her being in her mid-fifties and you being late twenties- early thirty something, she loved to tease you because she knew you could take it in good fun. "See what you could've had if you didn't order... whatever that is?"

"An omelette?" You giggled. "I was in it for the side of hash-browns."

"Mmmm" Georgia tried to stay engaged, but her eyes kept wandering back to the news on the television.

You quickly looked up at the TV facing you in the opposite corner to the one she had her eyes on, but all you saw was pictures of Black Widow. She was beautiful, you always were jealous of her stunning fiery red hair and strength. You didn't pay much attention to why the bottom banner across the screen said 'Breaking News: Emergency Broadcast". Nothing Natasha Romanoff could've done was more important to the crispy shredded potatoes in front of you.

You didn't know much about the Civil War besides the basics. Most of what you knew came from Georgia and Michael. Politics was never your strong suit, you're pretty sure you almost failed government class back in high school. However, politics was something Michael was very... passionate about.

His political opinions were strong, and he wasn't shy to let you know about them. Whenever you were over at their house for dinner and the topic came up, you tended to just let him get it all out while you soaked it in and ate silently.

Though you didn't have an extensive knowledge on economics or how congressional issues worked, you did know how you felt about social issues. Most of the time; your opinions did not match up with Michael. And most of the time Georgia soaked in and inherited all of Michael's political stances.

Only a few times did you seek out information on the bombing of the United Nations meeting and the sokovia accords by your own means. Mostly because you felt like the information you were getting from Michael was probably influenced by his own stance on the matter. But from what you gathered, it was a complex issue you couldn't even begin to put your nose in. Especially since they were all superheroes arguing over what was the correct thing to do.

You grew up very much in the mindset of not judging people until you've walked a mile in their shoes, and walking in their shoes was impossible. Especially superhero shoes with jet blasters and and steel toes.

So as Georgia stated, "Miss Romanoff had so much potential, why she wasted it on protecting a brain washed assassin I will never understand." you stole another bite of her pancakes and shoved them into your mouth.

In turn, she stole some of your hash-browns and looked at you, waiting for feedback on her remark. "What did she do now?" You asked.

"She was found on American soil. The secretary tried detaining her considering she's a fugitive but she slipped passed his fingers." Georgia explained. "They're asking for tips trying to find her again."

You nodded your head in understanding of the urgency in the news broadcast, but you didn't exactly feel like having a passionate discussion about morals in the middle of a notoriously conservative small down.

"I guess I just don't understand why the government is treating Captain America's friends as criminals when they've all done so much to protect us... Aren't they just trying to do the right thing?" You questioned carefully as to not start an argument.

"Sweetheart it's not about what they used to do for us, it's about what they've done recently. They broke the law, destroyed public and private property, and broke out of the highest security prison in the world all because they didn't want to be controlled by the United Nations." Georgia explained.

"...but the issue was that they didn't want to be controlled, it was that they wanted to come up with a different solution because lives would be lost while waiting for the whole United Nations to decide what business they could stick their noses in, right?" You framed your opinion as a question once more as to appease any potential anger.

"Captain America and his whole team of friends became war criminals the moment they turned their backs on the government. It's really that simple." She insisted.

You looked back up to the TV to see the pictures of Captain America, Black Widow, Scarlet Witch, the Falcon, the Winter Soldier, Ant-Man, and Hawkeye all looking back at you. The atmosphere between you and Georgia had gone quiet allowing you to hear the broadcasters voice.

'... if you see any of these individuals, do not approach. They are dangerous. Call 911. Remember, failure to report these individuals will be considered a misdemeanor punishable by jail time and a hefty fine. Do not approach.'

You observed the picture of the winter soldier in much more detail than the others, then your eyes grazed over Captain America.

One more big mouthful of your breakfast before an invasive thought overtook your brain and caused you to laugh out loud.

"What's got you laughing over there?" Georgia smiled at your antics.

"The winter soldier is so handsome, I think I'd become a war criminal trying to defend him too." You spat out between invasive laughter causing Georgia to laugh along with you no matter how hard she tried to contain it.

"I outta wash your mouth out with soap!" She laughed.

"Hey! No potty mouth here, just speaking the truth"

"This is why you need a boyfriend!" She smiled, pointing her pancake filled fork at you. "And a good one at that! I don't need to be seeing my baby girl all up in the news one day with the word 'wanted' written in bold red letters across her face."

"Hey, I've actually been meaning to ask you!" You started between bites. "A handsome fella came into the shop a few days ago. Said he was moving to greenwood in a few days, d'ya know anything about that?"

"What'd he look like, darlin'?" She questioned further. "I saw a stunner meet up with the owner of the house next door to yours while I was watering my peonies earlier this week. Watched him leave with a key in hand."

"He was tall, but I didn't get to see much to his face. It was blocked by a cap. I think his hair was dirty blonde from what I could see. He had really nice jeans on-"

"Full beard?" She asked.

"The most luscious and well groomed beard I've ever seen in this part of town." You confirmed with a giggle.

"I damn near blushed when I saw him from across the way! I bet he's moving in to that house then!" She enthused with a big smile. "Maybe this will be your escape from the Greenwood boys!"

"Are you kidding me? A man like that always comes a long with a wife and way too many children." You giggled.

"I bet that boy would make some beautiful babies" She kicked your leg underneath the table. "As would you."

"Not anytime soon" You shook your head with a blush in your cheeks.

"You know pregnancies over the age of 35 are considered geriatric?" She said backhandedly.

"Then consider me the oldest grandma in the nursing home." You denied once more

"I didn't see no ring on that man's finger, so he's single until proven married." Georgia smiled. "What did he get at the bakery?"

"One chocolate chip cookie" You hid your grin behind your hand holding your fork.

She raised her eyebrows mid pancake bite, chewing before speaking again as to not be impolite, but you already knew what she was thinking. "A married man would never get a cookie for just himself and not his wife. He's definitely single."

"Well he did say he drove into town for the key, so maybe he ate it before she even knew he had a cookie in the first place. Plus, I gave him two. You know how I feel about people who get one cookie..."

"So he's either single or the worst husband a girl could have. If Michael ever skipped out on getting me a cookie I'd divorce his ass on the spot." She shook her head.

"Why would you ever need Michael to bring you cookies when you have me, anyways?" You questioned, faking jealousy.

"Baby doll you're all I need" She smiled and reached over to squeeze your hand.

"That's more like it." You laughed.

Georgia smoothed over the pain of not being the only cookie provider in her life by paying the breakfast bill, even after you fought her over it for ten whole minutes because you invited her out to breakfast so you could treat her.

And when you two got home, you both immediately noticed all the construction on the house next to yours had been completely cleared out and it looked brand spankin' new.

What once was an older home with lots of rustic character looked more like all the surrounding houses with updated paint, new landscaping, fresh new features. It looked great without all of the dust and equipment blocking the view.

It was officially a home ready to be moved into, and any moment now you would have confirmation if your new neighbor was the same man you desperately owed $20.

Next Part: Inhale, Exhale

Tag list: @patzammit @bemysugarbean

If you’d like to be added to the tag list for this series, don’t be shy to ask 🤍🧁

[strangemaleswaps]

Strange Leather Bar Swap

Today's my 21st birthday and you know what that means! I'm finally able to take my first sip of alcohol…well legally anyway! But I didn't want to go to just any gay bar, I wanted to go to a leather bar in the city! I'm a leather fetishist for sure, even though I don't own any real gear. The only leather item I own is a jacket I got at a thrift shop awhile back. I want to buy better gear, but it's not the best idea since I'm still closeted to my judgmental family in the small town I live in. I do have a car and license though, so I'm happy to be able to escape all that when I need to.

I drove to the nearest city to find the leather bar, a super tall building that you could see from the distance. I've always wondered why it was so tall; it had to be at least 5 stories! If it's just a bar, it shouldn't have more than two floors though right? I was about to solve the mystery because, proudly wearing my leather jacket, I walked up to the bouncer at the door.

"Hey kid, can I see some ID please?" I was a little intimidated, but knowing that I am in fact old enough, I was reassured. I proudly presented the ID to the bouncer. He gave one long look at it, then beamed at me.

"Hey, happy birthday kid! Hope your first legal's good."

"Thanks!" He opened the door for me.

"Enjoy Swap Night too! It's really fun."

"Oh…yeah I will!" I had no idea what Swap Night was, but it must be some kind of event.

Walking in was amazing. Everywhere I looked, there were hot leather guys in all shapes and sizes, with the fresh scent of leather in the air. I felt a little awkward though. Not only am I the youngest one there, but lots of guys were wearing kinky fetish gear too. When it wasn't a BLUF type uniform, it was harnesses and jockstraps. I really wish I owned their gear!

Walking through the crowd of sweaty leather men, I arrived at the bar. I sat on the stool and the bartender came over.

"What'll it be kid?

"Hmm." I'm not really sure actually. Thankfully he seemed to have read my mind.

"I get you, it's your first time right? Simple margarita it is."

"Sure." As he poured, he made eye contact with me.

"So, you excited for Swap Night? Should be starting pretty soon."

"Er, what exactly is it anyway? I didn't know about this."

"It's a whole lotta fun. Everyone in the bar swaps bodies with a partner."

"Really? Body swapping? That's so cool! Do you get to choose who?"

"Unfortunately not, it's random. But you do get to choose who to fuck!"

"Wait you can fuck?"

"Yep! It's an amazing experience."

"That sounds so cool! How do I sign up?"

"Over there." He pointed at the nearby table that had a stack of papers on it, along with a box. "Just sign there and put it in the box."

"Alright!” I finished my margarita, paid, and quickly headed over to the table. I filled out my information, signed the paper, and placed it in the box. A few minutes later a really hot guy walked onto the stage and took a microphone. He was wearing a leather jacket over a harness, along with a pair of chaps over his leather briefs. I swear he looked directly at me. I really hope I'm able to swap with him - or at least someone as hot as him!

"Hey all you leather men! It's time for Swap Night!" The crowd cheered. "Now if you just walk through that door, you'll find a bulletin board with a room number listed next to your name. In these rooms, you'll find the body swapping helmets. Put 'em on, wait until everyone's ready, and boom! New body! Now if you wanna fuck, there are plenty of playrooms to have some fun in, as well. You'll be body swapped until midnight, so when the clock strikes twelve, you'll automatically be put back in your original bodies. Any questions?"

Nobody had questions so we headed over through the door. We all crowded around trying to look for our names and I found mine - Room 503. The map on the wall nearby indicated that 503 was on the 5th floor so I walked in the elevator, standing behind a few other guys. The smell of leather and sweat filled the air and I could feel myself getting hard.

I reached the floor, found my room, and walked in. It was about the size of a typical hotel room but without furniture. There was a large window in the back. Looking through, I could see a good portion of the city. I turned to my left and saw the helmet sitting on a small side table, so I grabbed it, pushed the only button on it, and placed it on my head. Nothing happened at first but after about a minute, it started lighting up, and making buzzing noises. A blinding flash of light hit me in the face and when I opened my eyes, I was in another room.

I looked down to see my new body, excited to be swapped with a hot guy, but was met with a surprise. I was wearing a leather shirt with light blue stripes down the side, but it was bulging out in a ball shape. The blue tie I was wearing highlighted the curve even more, by arching over a shiny black balloon. I have a fucking ball gut! I poked it with my newly gloved hands, to prove it was real and…it was real all right! I grabbed it with both hands and shook it up and down, feeling vibrations throughout my body.

I'm fat! I've never been fat before, not even a little bit! At least I'm wearing leather gear. I took one hand and put it up to my nose to smell the glove. It was fucking amazing…the leather scent made me go stiff immediately. I couldn’t even see my own dick past the gut, but I sure could feel it! As I held the glove closer, I noticed my face felt a little fuzzy. I brushed under my nose and felt some facial hair. Oh god, I have a mustache! I looked around to find a mirror and saw one on the wall.

I looked at my reflection and was shocked at the sight. I'm not only fat, I'm old! I inspected my face closely, touching the mustache that spread across my face in an arch shape. This is weird but incredible! I’ve never been able to grow more than peach fuzz before and now I have a whole damn mustache! I had wrinkles under my eyes, on my forehead, and under my chin…actually no. That's a double chin! Even though I was grossed out, I started playing with it, pinching both my chins and neck. It was surreal.

I can't believe out of all the hot leather men I saw, I had to end up in the body of some fat old guy! Is this really supposed to be random? I couldn't have had worse luck! I've always wanted to own new gear but not like this! I turned to the side, staring at my new belly and holding it, jiggling it slightly as I grimaced at how far it stuck out. The leather shirt hugged it tightly in a way that no matter how much I tried to suck it in, it was still obvious. I took a moment to check out my entire leathered up body. In the mirror I could finally see the leather pants and boots I was wearing, along with a muir cap on top of my head.

So is this what it feels like wearing full gear? It really hugs my body…though maybe that's because I'm so big. I started to feel stiff, but this time, I think I was turned on by my body instead of the leather. That's funny though. I'm usually into younger to mid age fit guys, not silver daddies and bears, even if they're in leather. There's no ignoring the horny urges, though. I may not be able to see my dick but I can feel it! Maybe the body swapping causes an increase in sex drive? Well, whatever it is, I can't wait to try out this senior bod on some other guy…

[starillusion13]

FRIENDS!? Chapter 8

🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳

Series ML

Pairing: poly!ateez × f!reader (An ATEEZ Office AU)

Genre: Mature, Angst, Yandere, SMUT

Warning: none

W.C: 3k

For my beloved: @oreharuuu

Network: @cultofdionysusnet @k-vanity

[Reblogs and Reviews are always appreciated. Thank you for reading and have a nice day ahead. Please always take care of yourself everyone.]

Hello, Can we be friends please?

.

.

.

"You didn't have to cut the call like that."

Hearing your whining voice, the boy in front of you laughs out aloud earning a glare from you. He leans forward to ruffle your hairs, making you more annoyed.

"But I'm really sorry for that...I was half awake and didn't know what I was speaking so don't mind me if I had said anything weird." He pouts in the end.

"It's okay. I was asking why you told me that I have studied in that school since middle school but actually I have studied there only high-school. Do you know if something happened during the time when I was sick?"

"not really...I was a transfer student and I heard from you that you studied there since middle school. We used to sit together and gradually we became friends but why are you asking these all of a sudden?" He creases his brows.

"just asking." You sigh and look down to your smoothie.

"Y/n..."

"Gyu...I thing those CEOs are hiding something from me." You haven't look up but you can feel his stare on you.

"What makes you think like that?" he places his chin on the fist.

You pause and think of all the previous months, "Gyu...I started to get along with some of them who seem pretty friendly and they told me about our friendship a lot but every time their words felt like as if they were hiding some part of the story. And also..." you look around and leans forward to whisper, "I am remembering everything...and it's not like those dreams anymore. I can totally remember how I have spent my times with them. I can now see their faces and remember their voices and everything."

You are taking medicines for last one month and it's really helping too fast to regain your memories. The doctor told you that it's only because you are surrounded by the people who are part of the memories. Their presence, their voices and their images are colliding with the barrier and making your past vision getting cleared.

"Like...everything?"

"not really...all the happy and fun times are there but still something is missing."

"Maybe there is something...bad and if anything triggers your mind then you can remember the rest." He raises his brows and you nod, "maybe possible."

"Do you want to remember them?"

"I don't know..."

.

.

.

"Hey Star!" your cheering voice startles the girl who was earlier busy talking to the receptionist and it looked as if it was pretty much important. She waves the woman away and run towards you to engulf you in a hug. You smile, "you are here? You didn't inform me about your coming."

She laughs, "Actually, I was here to deliver some of my father's document on my way to studio so basically there was no point in informing you." She glances at her wrist watch and sighs, "also I'm running late so gotta go y/n. Fighting for the day."

Nodding to her, you watch her almost running towards the glass door, her heels were about to slip at some point but still she is a person who will fall a thousand times but will not be on time anywhere. Shaking your head, you remember that Yeosang had called you earlier because he needs some help with his assigned paper works and well you as his secretary oh-no bestfriend should help him.

He asked you to help him as his dear friend not as an office worker-secretary.

You push open the glass door to his cabin only to be greeted by a silent room with no one inside it. You crease your brows and stepped inside, approaching the bulletin board to see if he has left any sticky notes about his whereabouts but nothing is there. You glance at all the previous notes still sticking and the various little characters drawn by him in the corner of various colour small papers -he refers those drawings of tiny characters as hehetmon. A little smile appears on your face but you were yet to notice that someone is standing behind you, very close to you that he himself is surprised.

The corner of the person's lip curls up too when his gaze falls on the same thing.

"He never wants to hurt you."

You get startle to the voice and quickly turns around, placing your clutched fist above your heart and wide eyes staring back at him, "when did you enter?" as much as you are gathering courage to ask him a question, deep down you are more freaking out with the fact that it's him who is standing so close to you and alone in this room.

"why do you ask?" he asks in a low voice, one hand fished his pant pocket. His white shirt perfectly hugging his body and your eyes really not leaving any corner of his body to appreciate them. Blinking away the thoughts, you look back at him.

He is smirking at you and you fight the urge to roll your eyes, "I must believe that you all are some kinds of vampires at this point because I don't hear a sound when you all sneak behind me. you all have same behaviours at this point."

"we are brothers though."

"what? Brothers?"

He rolls his eyes, "well sort of." He walks to the chair opposite to the main chair behind the table and swivels to your direction. "living together for so many years and getting adopted by the same man. yes we are brothers. But to tell you one thing, Jongho is my real brother though."

"Do you have fever?" your feet are still glued to the exact same place and he smirks when he heard your question, "why?"

You gulp and avert your eyes towards the door and hope to Yeosang come but no one comes across.

"what happened? I asked you a question."

"you...you are talking normally to me. this doesn't feel right. I mean like it's nice that you are being good to me but still..." you look down at your shoes and cursing in your mind for blabbering nonsense.

He chuckles, "y/n, look at me. are you scared of me?"

You shake your head but he is moving his head in every direction to get a glimpse of your face, "then why are you not looking at me?"

"Um...I need to find Yeosang..."

As you stepped forward, he blocks your view with his frame and smiling down at you. Your every movement is restricted by him. nervousness visible on your face, his finger curls your locks and tugs them behind your ears. Heart beating in your ears, blood pumping to your face due to the close proximity. "San..."

He leans forwards, humming in your ears "say my name again, pretty girl."

Should I say that I remember this name? Pretty girl...

"San...I need to go."

He holds you close, embracing you in a warm hug. Why is he acting like this suddenly? What happened to him? you slightly push him and step towards the door. His eyes go wide with the sudden action but he smirks while fishing his palms inside the pocket of his denims.

You look back at him for once before exiting the door and heaving a sigh. But to your dismay, he exits the door just behind you.

"do you need something?"

"yes...you."

You stare at him for a second before making your way towards Hongjoong's office. Yeah, that's the only safe option for you. No one would dare to do anything if he is around but why this person is acting like someone has possessed him. even when he is acting nice towards you, his actions are creeping you out.

The steps quicken but you can feel him trailing just closely behind you. A wide smile visible on his face, eyes following your each panic and nervous steps and turn towards the Hongjoong's cabin. You are now confused because you thought him to go away when knowing the known path but he is still in his way, following you.

Reaching near the red door, you pause and stare at it, questioning whether to enter or go anywhere else. He stops in his track and leans against the railing behind him, he is just a few feet away from you. You nervously glance between the door and him. when you are about to knock, his voice interrupts you.

"Enter the room...he knows you will be here."

Is he fooling with you?

"why are you following me?"

He starts laughing and brushed his hair back, "I can do anything in my office and you are my personal assistance so the boss can be with his assistant anywhere. Maybe doing anything. Also-"

You couldn't take any more from him, so without knocking you push open the door and are greeted with three persons already inside the room, staring at your direction. You send a smile towards them and awkwardly move forward but they are curiously watching your form.

Yeosang is smiling at you from the sofa and pats the place beside him and you approach him. Hongjoong standing behind his desk, is still in a serious mask but when he catches your eyes at him, he smiles back and Seonghwa across from him—well his expression is unpredictable. You don't actually know what he is feeling or why he is staring at you like this but you are sure about one thing that you are definitely freaking out inside because of his presence. Earlier, San was not enough that you have to face this man as well.

There is a really something about Seonghwa that is making you nervous.

"what happened, y/n?"

Hongjoong breaks the awkward the moment between you all and you shake your head, "ah..it's nothing." You turn to your side, "I was searching for Yeosang but he was not there in his cabin."

"oh! Yeah, I have given those papers to Jongho. No need to worry for that."

You nod with a smile.

Entering the room, you felt a tensed atmosphere inside the cabin and with you here, it's seemed to be more heavy air for breathing. The door opens slowly and enters the uninvited one. As if you are invited. Well, the first thing he did, winking to your direction and going towards the bookshelf near the wide glass view of the city. You glare at him but he is enjoying your silly expression and smiles at you again.

What is literally wrong with him?

Is he planning something to get rid of you?

Of course not. Right?

Hongjoong notices the interaction between you two when he suddenly said, "what is going on between you two?"

"Nothing!" you said too loud earning chuckles from two, Hongjoong raised his brow and having an amusing look and the last one enjoying the situation a lot.

"Joong, there's a lot going on in your office."

"what do you mean?"

"My pretty girl is being a curious one these days and asking about the childhood stories from others. Why?" he said and flips the page of the book in his hand.

Your ears perk upon the words coming out his mouth. Why is he saying it like he is suspecting you for something? Seonghwa smiles and stands up, he takes off his coat and walks towards you. You are attentive to his actions. He nears your form and kneels down in front of you, placing his palms over your knees. You awkwardly smiles towards him and glance at Hongjoong. Why is he not stopping him?

"do you remember our past?" he asks you softly. You lick your lips and bit the lower lips. Yeosang caress your head with a smile on his face, urging you to speak.

"I...no...nothing..."

You lied. Even if you can remember a lot of things but yet you are confused and don't feel like sharing anything with them.

"but you were asking about us." He tilts his head to the side.

"I was just trying to be friends...again."

Yes. That's true, even if you started to get to know them out of curiosity but gradually, you are feeling close with them. They are really making you feel like the most important part of their life. It's not good to hide from them. It's been days, oh wait it's been months that you are staying here with them. You have become some of their best friends all over again. There are some things you remembered. And also, Some things you need to get clarified.

"that's good."

You nod to Yeosang.

"Hongjoong...you asked me if I remembered something from my past right?"

"Yeah..."

"I can." You look at four of them preciously and gulp, "I can remember our friendship."

You add,"not everything...but a lot."

Hongjoong has a mixed expression on his face. You search for a particular emotion over his features but all you get is a tension visible.

Is he scared of something?

Seonghwa's grip on your palm above your thigh tightens to your words and Yeosang is shocked to hear the confession. But there is one person whose expression is unexpected, San. He is blankly staring at you but when he caught your eyes, he smiled at you. Now, it's your time to get shock. Why is he smiling?

"As far as I can remember, we were good friends...really good friends." You stare at Seonghwa, "more than just...friends."

"Y/n..."

"Can someone please explain me how come this happened?"

Seonghwa quickly asks, "what happened?"

You remain silent. You don't know how to say it. Previously, you didn't want to say anything about this to them. You were unsure of the facts being true but when you got to remember them, their memories, their every touch, their smiles, their laughs and their confessions. You are sure that all those are not just some dreams anymore but some realities that you had to forget for some reasons.

"y/n...please tell me."

You place your hand above his with a smile, "Hwa..." his breath hitches with you calling him with the nickname, "I was in relationship with you...all."

"love..." Hongjoong's voice is heavy and low but it's audible to all of you. You stare at him and lick your lips. He slowly steps forward and stands behind Seonghwa, "you remember us?"

You nod and cast a glance towards San. His gaze is fixed on you. Yeosang scoots closer to you and side hugs you with a smile. "we are together again. Now no one can separate us again, right?"

"but I want to ask you all one thing."

Hongjongs folds his hand above his chest and nods his head but a little smile visible on his face.

"what are you all hiding from me?"

"no-"

"Joong, you are. Even if there's these nice memories of ours but still there are these blur scenes which are itching inside me. Please tell me."

Seonghwa cups your one cheek, "it's better not to remember those things. Please, we are relieved that you remember us again but we are more than happy that you can't remember those parts."

"Is it that bad?"

He hesitates to reply but smiles, "yes. Please don't force yourself to remember it."

"I won't." you pat Yeosang's hand around you, "But if I remember them naturally, then?"

They are silent.

You suddenly laugh at them and they stare at you confusedly.

"what happened?"

"why are you laughing?" Hongjoong asked and furrowed his eyebrows.

"lets forget about this topic." You remove the arms from around you and also, remove Seonghwa's hands from your lap to step towards Hongjoong. Standing just in front of Hongjoong, you extend a hard towards him, "friends?"

He stares at your hand and blinks at you, "friends..." He holds your hand with a wide smile across his face. "but why are you asking this suddenly?"

"I want to start our bond again. We should start our relationship again from the first step of friendship. So, we are now friends."

He smiles at you but when you turn around, you come face to face with someone whom you were trying to ignore these days. Your heart ache to see him after confessing the truth to them. Tears welling up in your eyes. His every word, every affection, the love you shared, the times you spent, holding hands with each other, the smile you shared, the affection which is still lingering on your skin is burning all over your body and inside of your heart.

"Yunho..."

NEXT

[I might be ending this series soon coz I have few other series going on and I have ideas for plots for them but Idk how to continue this one. this series might seemed a bit of rush though.]

Taglist :

@mymoodwriting @justhere4kpop @vvshere @anyamaris @yeoobin @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @brrrkdslek-personal @icchyi @jwnghyuns @piratequeen-queenofgames @luhwaine @ilove-taeyong @dinonuguaegi @endeav0rsb1tch @loveforred @hwanring @sanwifesstuff @kiwiisnthereoops @kiwiraccoon @sousydive @aliona124754 @tunaasan

(open! dm me/ send ask/reply here)

[mask131]

A continuation of my Medusa post here.

Since people have been asking for links and sources about Medusa, I'll provide a little bibliography of various sources you can compare and debate about. Note that the bibliography about Medusa is even wider and bigger than the little samples I provide below, but I think they form a good "basic set" or "starting kit". (And I might have forgotten things, since I originally wrote my post unplanned and wasn't ready for it to blow up so much. I am just a tiny little blog that didn't get as much as seven likes on my biggest things you know Xp)

First of all, a resource that is fully available for free on Google Books: here, or here. It is called "Dangerous Beauties: Medusa in Classical Art", a Metropolitan Museum of Art Bulletin, published in the winter of 2017. Very beautiful and informative with lot of nice art. There's also more about the exposition tied to this publication here. There was another publication by the Metropolitan Museum that can be of some interest, Majorie Milne's "Perseus and Medusa on an Attic Vase".

When it comes to English-speaking books analysing and dissecting the Medusa myth, two works keep popping up everywhere. 2003's "The Medusa Reader", and Stephen Wilk's "Medusa: Solving the Mystery of the Gorgon". They do form references when it comes to the overview, analysis and evolution of the Gorgon figure. Other works of note include David Leeming's "Medusa in the Mirror of Time", and Thalia Feldman's "Gorgo and the Origins of Fear" (published within "Arion", I don't know if it had been published elsewhere). The Internet Archive has a free copy, right here, of Frederick Thomas Elworthy's "The Evil Eye: The Classical Account of an Ancient Superstition".

If you can read French, go read Jean-Pierre Vernant's works that tackled the Gorgon: "La mort dans les yeux: Figures de l'Autre en Grèce Ancienne", (Death in the eyes: Figures of the Other in Ancient Greece - explores the legends of the Gorgon and of Artemis) ; and his co-work with Pierre-Vidal Naquet "Mythe et tragédie en Grèce Ancienne" (Vernant did wrote in English a part of The Medusa Reader, the article "In the mirror of Medusa"). Jean Clair also wrote an interesting document: "Méduse. Contribution à une anthropologie des arts du visuel."

And finally, the cherry at the top, the Internet Archive even has a copy of the scholia (well, one of them), in which the old Pherecyde tales are described - the ones that make proof the idea of Medusa having been turned into a monster by Athena due to a crime of vanity and boasting is as old as the 5th century BC. It is right here. If you like to read Latin, go have fun.

(Shoutout to the people who asked for links and sources - which is absolutely normal and indeed much needed in this time of widespread misinformation and websites that can literaly invent Greek goddesses of torture out of nowhere

@60sec400 @fishlord-main @nouzillard @bigsnorp @gendermeh and probably others I forgot about

EDIT: adding @tanoraqui and @beanshery to the list)

[bellaxgiornata]

Falling For the Devil [Part sixteen: "The Time You Saved Daredevil"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Summary: Matt is shot trying to help stop an armed bank robbery and you can't get ahold of him. You take it upon yourself to find him and get him home safe.

Or

You discover Matt in a dumpster without his senses and find yourself communicating with him in a strange and stressful version of charades.

[Series of one-shots about Reader meeting, falling for, and dating Matt Murdock.]

Warnings: 18+ for this series; contains humor, fluff, romance, angst, smut (like...a lot of it later in the series), language, some violence

Word Count: 4.9k

a/n: I like symmetry so of course there had to be a hurt/comfort installment where Reader helps out Matt! You can find all of the installments for this series that are on tumblr here.

Pressing the heels of your hands onto your closed eyelids, you slouched over your desk at The Bulletin. There had been a large scale robbery at a bank just a few blocks away in Hell's Kitchen and Ellison had called quite a few staff back in to cover the breaking story for tomorrow’s issue. You had been among them, expected to help pull together information from whatever sources you could.

But you were too busy stressing over the fact that Michael's outside source was telling him that Daredevil had shown up and had been attempting to diffuse the situation at the bank. 

And he was being shot at.

Your nerves had been pushed to their limit for the past twenty-seven minutes, your eyes mostly glued to your phone as you waited for any update from Michael's source or the actual Devil of Hell’s Kitchen himself. You had been unable to focus on anything Ellison wanted accomplished for the duration of the robbery. All you could think about was something happening to Matt. 

"More news!" Michael called out, rising in his cubicle so everyone in the office could see him.

Your hands immediately fell from your face as you sat bolt upright in your chair. Holding your breath, you prayed everything was over and Matt was alright. Prayed that you could sneak to the bathroom and call his burner phone in fifteen minutes and hear his voice telling you he was fine and he'd see you later.

"So the robbers have been finally apprehended by police," Michael continued, the room breaking into applause. "No casualties as far as I'm aware, but one person was injured. My source heard reports that Daredevil was shot, though."

The room felt like it was spinning at this bit of news. You couldn't breathe. Matt had been shot? 

"But he's got that suit, right?" Katy called out beside you, her voice breaking through your panic. "So he's okay, isn't he? Being shot at isn't new for him."

Michael shrugged, turning his attention to Katy. "I mean usually, yeah. But my source was saying Daredevil seemed off. Barely made it out of the building before the cops showed up. Said it looked like he was struggling or something."

You felt sick. You were definitely going to be sick. 

Shaking, you pushed back out of your chair and rose to your feet. Katy shot you a look, concern on her face.

"You okay?" she asked you. "You look pale."

"Fine," you breathed out. "I'm going to–to check with one of my sources on–on something. Can you let Ellison know?"

Katy's brows furrowed as she nodded. You swallowed hard, grabbing your purse off your desk and throwing it over you. 

As you made your way out of the office on trembling legs, your stomach churning and twisting uncomfortably, you tried hard to think of a plan. If Matt wasn't okay, you'd need to go and find him. He probably wouldn't be too far from the bank if he couldn't make it home. 

First thing you needed to do was call Matt's burner phone. If he answered, then there was no need to worry. If he didn't, well, then you'd figure out what the second thing you needed to do was.

You pulled your phone out of your purse, typing in the number Matt had you memorize as you hurried down the few flights of stairs. As you neared the first floor, his burner phone only continued to ring in your ear with no answer. You cursed, hanging up and trying to think of step two. 

If Matt wasn't answering, he either needed help or he was on his way back to his apartment. Not wanting to waste time, and being unable to be in two places at once, you quickly dialed Karen's number. The phone rang twice before she answered. 

"Hey," you said quickly, feeling a little out of breath from running down multiple flights of stairs. "Are you busy?"

"Uh, no?" Karen answered.

"Matt was shot," you told her, continuing over her loud intake of breath. "He was stopping that robbery and one of my co-worker's sources said Daredevil was shot and seemed off. Like he wasn't okay. And he's not answering his burner. I'm going to get spare clothes from my apartment for him and go search around the bank. See if he's hurt somewhere and can't get back. Can you check his apartment? See if he shows up? I'd do it but I can't be in two places at once. I don't want to waste time waiting to see if he shows when he might be bleeding out in an alley."

"Yeah, yeah sure," Karen said in a rush. "I'll be there in less than ten minutes."

"Thank you," you breathed out. "I owe you. Text me if he's there or if he shows up. I'll text if I find him."

You hung up, pushing out of the doors to the building and hailing the first taxi you could find.  Giving them your apartment address, you settled anxiously in the back, chewing your nails and willing your phone to ring with good news.

__________

Your phone hadn't rung with good news.

You'd been searching the alleys in a two block radius around where the bank robbery had taken place for thirty minutes now, practically sprinting around all of the blocks. Karen was waiting back at Matt's apartment in case he showed, but she'd said he hadn't been there. 

The longer you spent looking for him with no answer on his burner phone–the one you were occasionally calling every few minutes hoping you'd at least hear it if he didn't answer–the worse you felt. 

Were you going to find him dead somewhere? 

Nope. No. Not a thought for right now.

Your body was shaking and it had been for awhile now. Your hands clutched nervously to the straps of the backpack on your back as you continued your search. You'd stopped at your apartment only long enough to grab the backpack and one of the shirts and sweatpants Matt had left at your apartment. The ones you occasionally stole to cuddle with while you slept when he didn't stay the night because they smelled like him. Now you needed them in the event you found Matt and he couldn't get himself home as Daredevil, you'd have to find a way to get him home in less conspicuous clothes.

It was when you'd reached one of the last few blocks of the perimeter search around the robbed bank that you heard it. You'd called his burner again and in the distance down a darkened back alley you heard the sound of a phone ringing. 

Instantly you paused at the sound, slowly turning and looking down the alley. It was poorly lit but seemed empty except for a couple of dumpsters. Nervously biting your lip, you ended the call and listened with bated breath. The ringing in the alley stopped also.

"Please don't be a really strange coincidence and someone is actually waiting down there to murder me and throw my body parts in a dumpster," you mumbled to yourself.

Ignoring everything in your body telling you not to wander down a darkened alley just two blocks from a robbed bank at almost eleven at night in Hell's Kitchen, you wandered down the darkened alley. Your eyes swept back and forth as you moved, your hand clutching the pepper spray you'd grabbed for protection in the hand that wasn't holding your phone. When you reached the dead end of the alley, you frowned. You hadn't found Matt lying on the ground anywhere, where was he?

Hesitantly you called his burner phone again, waiting anxiously. The sound of the ringtone came loud and clear just a few feet behind you and you turned, brows furrowed as you tried to decipher where the sound was coming from. And then your eyes landed on a dumpster. Slowly you headed over to it and sure enough the ringing was coming from inside.

Ending the call, you slipped the phone and pepper spray into an outside pocket of the backpack before you cautiously called out to him. "Matt? It's me," you said. When he didn't respond you called out your name, but he still didn't answer.

He's not dead. He's not dead. Maybe he just fell asleep. In a dumpster. Or passed out. But he's not dead.

Carefully you kicked some boxes on the ground towards the dumpster, testing your weight on them. They felt like they would hold so you nervously stepped onto them and grabbed onto the edge of the dumpster, pulling yourself up the best you could. Sure enough you were met with the sight of Daredevil laying on a pile of smelly garbage. He was curled in on himself and didn't seem to be responding to your calling out to him or your presence.

With drastically less upper body strength than Matt had, you pulled yourself up and into the dumpster, gagging at the stench. You were both going to need a shower real bad after this. With Matt's senses, you might need to scrub off the top layer of your skin.

At the feel of the garbage bags shifting, Matt immediately turned towards you and swung a fist. Eyes wide, you ducked down to a particularly smelly garbage bag as you shrieked.

"Matt, it's me!" you called out again. "Don't punch me or we're both screwed!"

He swung at you again and you awkwardly dodged it, your hand landing in something damp causing you to cringe as Matt's body fell over into the garbage on his other side. Fighting back a wave of nausea at whatever you'd gotten on your hand, you wiped it off onto your jeans as you studied Matt. 

He was acting strange. He wasn't responding to you talking to him; instead he was trying to hit you. Laying in a dumpster didn't seem like something he'd be particularly fond of, especially with how much it had to smell to him. He wasn't throwing punches quite that well, either. If Daredevil wanted to hit you he'd have hit you. There was no way you'd ever have been able to dodge his blows, but for some reason he couldn't seem to land one on you.

And more obviously–why would Matt try to punch you?

Were his senses not working right now? Could he not smell the disgusting garbage you were both laying in? Could he not hear you calling out to him? Talking to him? Hear your hearbeat that he'd often told you was a familiar sound, one he could easily pick up on in a crowded room? 

Could he…not sense it was you? 

The realization dawning on you had panic rising in your gut. You'd have to find some way to get him to realize it was you who'd found him, especially if you had any hope of getting him out of that suit and back to his apartment. And if he was already throwing punches for just someone being near him, you couldn't imagine what he'd do if he realized someone was taking his suit off of him.

"Shit," you grumbled. "What the hell will make you realize it's me?"

You sat for a moment, smelling the horrible stench of garbage that was sure to have seeped into your clothes. For a moment you almost ran that dirty hand through your hair, pausing and shooting it a resentful look before you lowered it back to your side. 

Then a thought struck you. Carefully you maneuvered yourself closer to Matt, grateful he'd stopped trying to swing at you for the moment. Using the hand that hadn't gotten something disgusting on it, you very cautiously reached out and ran the tips of your fingers along the bit of stubbled jaw exposed under his helmet. Matt instantly tensed, his body shifting as if he was about to throw another punch, but then he hesitated.

"Come on, Matt," you muttered nervously. "Who else would jump in a dumpster with Daredevil and stroke your jaw after you'd just tried to punch them? It's me. You know it’s me."

Cautiously you continued the movement, watching as his arm slowly lowered. His head shifted around a few times, like he was searching for who was touching him. He said your name quietly, like a question. You smiled, grabbing one of his hands as you continued to stroke his jaw before placing it on your cheek. Slowly, you nodded your head in response, hoping he could understand the movement.

His mouth twitched briefly, his gloved fingers lightly grazing your cheek. He whispered your name again and you nodded again.

“I–I can’t hear,” he whispered, his voice sounding full of fear and a little off. “Can’t get–get back. Everything is off. Shot in the head.” You winced at that. “Helmet protected me but–but everything is off.”

You fought back tears at how terrifying it must be for him right now without sight or sound, along with his senses being dampened. But you couldn’t focus on that right now. Matt needed you. You’d have to find a way to communicate with him so you could get him home and then you’d figure out what to do after that.

Quickly you pulled the backpack off of your back, Matt keeping his gloved hand on your cheek. You figured it was probably comforting to him. As you pulled his spare clothes from the backpack, you were at a point to which you ignored the pile of garbage you were both settled in. Placing the clothes in front of you, you paused, trying to figure out how to get him to understand that you were going to have to change him out of his suit. 

Biting your lip, you grabbed the gloved hand that was on your cheek and lowered it, unclasping the glove and sliding it off. Carefully you placed the soft shirt in his hand, watching as his fingers inspected what he was touching. And then you let him feel the pair of sweatpants you’d grabbed, his hands inspecting the fabric of it carefully next.

“You…need me out of the suit?” he asked, his voice still sounding off since he couldn’t hear himself.

You raised his hand to your cheek, nodding your head again.

“I can’t leave the suit,” he mumbled.

You shook your head, exaggerating the gesture. Then you lowered his hand to the backpack, dragging it along the pouches and zippers. 

“Okay,” he agreed.

You reached out, trying to tug him up by his shoulders. You’d need him out of the dumpster and probably standing to be able to peel him out of the suit. Thank God you’d helped him out of it a few times now and you knew how to open it and get it off of him. But that didn't mean this wasn't going to be difficult.

It took a few tries of you tugging him to get him to realize you wanted him out of the dumpster. And as you struggled to help him out of it, you cursed him quietly for choosing to climb into a dumpster in the first place. Even if it was a good way to hide. 

Eventually you’d both gotten out and you’d managed to maneuver him against the alley wall, but it was incredibly dark and took you a long time trying to find all the hidden buckles, snaps, and zippers in the dark while also keeping an ear out for anyone who might stumble upon the pair of you. And once you'd managed that feat, you were struggling with trying to pull the suit down off of his body. It was practically skin tight, though Matt tried his hardest to assist you the best he could. 

When you finally managed to tug the suit down past his hips and his ass–which was very difficult considering Matt had an ass on him and his suit clung to it about as badly as you'd like to–you'd finally had an easier time tugging the suit down the rest of the way. You sighed in relief when you could fold it up and stuff the suit, billy clubs, his helmet, and gloves into your backpack and zip it up. Then you worked on helping him into his sweatpants, showing him what it was before you knelt down, tapping one leg at a time to get him to lift them and get his feet in them. He slid the pants up the rest of the way himself and you took the moment to shoot Karen a quick text saying you'd found him and were going to bring him to his apartment. 

You helped pull his shirt on afterwards, tugging it down over him and making sure he was fully dressed. Relieved that you'd managed to get him safely out of his Daredevil suit, you hesitantly wrapped your arms around his hips, carefully drawing him into a hug. Matt's arms were quick to encircle themselves around you, his face burying itself against the top of your head. The hold he had on you was tight, almost crushing you to his body, and as much as you both probably wanted to continue to seek comfort from the other right now, you knew you needed to get Matt home. Reluctantly you began to release your arms from him, but Matt was a bit slower to follow suit. 

Unfortunately you didn't have shoes for Matt as you glanced down at his feet, but you were contemplating hailing a cab and pretending Matt was drunk. It'd be faster getting him home that way then trying to half carry him while toting the backpack across Hell's Kitchen. 

You grabbed his hand, nervously chewing your lip and hoping he could kind of figure out what you were trying to tell him. You knew he mainly read braille, but you also knew he was able to trace the indentation of words that weren't in braille with his heightened senses, so he should still understand what you were going to trace onto his hand. 

You spelled out C-A-B on his upturned palm before anxiously staring up at his face. His eyes narrowed and you chewed your lip harder. You tried a second time, tracing the same three letters onto his palm again, this time even slower.

"Cab?" he asked. "Taking a cab?"

You placed his hand to your cheek, nodding. 

"My place?" he asked hopefully.

You nodded again, eyeing him carefully. After a moment he nodded in response. With another relieved sigh, you threw the backpack onto your back before wrapping an arm around Matt's waist. He threw his left arm over your shoulders, leaning some of his weight on you. 

It was a struggle getting him down the alley and you'd had to walk about half a block in the direction of his apartment before you found an available cab and flagged it down. You were exhausted by the time you reached it, placing Matt's hand on the door first so he knew what was going on. He nodded and you took that as your cue to open the door and help him in.

The cab driver gave the pair of you strange looks, but once you'd given him the brief explanation that Matt was drunk and blind, not wanting to risk him piecing anything together about the man beside you possibly being the infamous vigilante, he didn't pay either of you any mind. Instead, he focused on driving to the address of Matt's building. 

The entirety of the drive you were holding Matt's hand in the backseat. He, on the other hand, was clutching your hand desperately as if it was the only thing grounding him. And it probably was considering he couldn't see or hear a thing. As the full realization of that hit you, you gave his hand a gentle squeeze, sliding your leg towards his. A moment later his left hand snaked its way over and grabbed onto your leg as he leaned against you, his forehead coming to rest along your shoulder. You couldn't even begin to imagine what he felt right now, and that only made your heart ache further for him.

Thankfully getting him up to his apartment once you'd both gotten to his building wasn't too difficult. You'd easily navigated him through the lobby and into the elevator, riding it up to the sixth floor. Once on his floor, you led him to his apartment where Karen quickly let you inside.

"What happened?" she asked, watching in concern as you led Matt to his living room.

"Said he was shot in the head," you answered, still struggling to carry his weight. "His helmet I guess took the brunt of it but he can't hear. His senses aren't working properly. Found him in a dumpster." 

You placed one of his hands on his leather sofa, watching his face as his hand slowly dragged back and forth across the surface. A look of calm washed over him.

"My couch?" he asked hopefully.

You placed the hand he had enjoined with yours to your cheek as you nodded. Instantly you saw his shoulders droop, his body relaxing a little.

"Jesus," Karen breathed out. 

"Yeah," you said, leading him around the couch. "It wasn't easy getting him out of the dumpster and changing his clothes before trying to hail a cab. Now I'm…not sure what to do."

"Maybe his nurse friend Claire needs to look at him?" Karen suggested. "Or he just needs to do that meditation thing he does?"

You slipped the backpack off and placed it near the coffee table before lowering onto the couch beside him. You grabbed his palm, turning it over and tracing C-L-A-I-R-E onto his hand very slowly. His eyes narrowed for a moment before he spoke.

"Claire?" he asked.

You nodded against his hand. A moment later he shook his head 'no' and you frowned.

"I can–can meditate," he answered.

You nodded against his hand before glancing back at Karen. "Thank you for helping tonight. Keeping an eye out here for him," you told her, Matt shifting beside you to lay on the couch. "I don't want to hold you up all night though. If he's just going to lay here meditating I'll probably just lay here with him. I think having something to ground him has been helpful."

"You sure?" she asked. 

"Yeah," you said, shooting her a tired smile as Matt tugged on your hand, a silent question for you to lay with him. "Thank you though. Seriously," you told her.

"Anytime," she replied, smiling back. "You know Foggy and I are always here for you and Matt. Will you let me know what's going on? If he's okay?"

"Absolutely,"  you assured her, feeling Matt tug your hand again.

As Karen made her way out, you returned your focus to Matt. Carefully you laid down, rolling onto your side and facing him. You both reeked of garbage from your time in the dumpster and you desperately wished you could wash your hands at least, but you were pretty sure Matt wouldn't want you to leave him. So instead you settled in next to him, reeking of who knew what.

"Having you here is helping," Matt murmured to you once you'd stopped squirming beside him. "Just wish I could hear your heart."

An idea struck you a moment later and you reached down for the hand he had resting on your hip, tentatively clasping your hand over it. Swallowing hard, hoping he wasn't thinking you were trying to do anything strange, you slipped both of your hands up under the hem of your shirt, your eyes fixed nervously on his face just beside yours as his brows furrowed. You slid your hands up further, Matt's warm hand gliding up your stomach and passed your bra, your hand pausing with his just over your heart. 

You could feel your own heart racing, waiting for him to react so you knew he knew you weren't trying to have him cop a feel in his vulnerable state. A smile slowly spread across his mouth before his palm pressed itself firmly against your chest. You released the breath you didn't realize you'd been holding, relaxing beside him. Your hand slid back out of your shirt, but Matt's remained, feeling your heart beating under his hand as his eyes slowly closed.

"Thank you," he whispered.

Closing your own eyes, you fell into a comfortable drowsy state, only falling into a light doze in case Matt needed you. The warm hand he had over your heart was a comfort to you as well as him after the fear you'd had the majority of the night. While you dozed, Matt dropped into a meditative state beside you; he'd once told you how he used it to heal himself, though you had no idea how it worked. But right now, you were grateful if it did.

__________

You weren't sure how long you both had been lying on the couch before you felt Matt no longer motionless beside you. His shifting woke you from your light sleep and your eyes opened, taking in his expression. His brows were knitted together and his nose was scrunched up, his eyes opening slowly. Your heart jumped in your chest, worried something was wrong or that he was in pain. 

"We smell terrible," he announced. 

A laugh burst forth out of you, loud and unforgiving. A massive smile instantly spread over Matt's face, his eyes crinkling at the corners and the lone dimple on his right cheek making an appearance. You knew everything was alright when you saw that damn dimple.

"I don't think I could think of a better sound to have my hearing come back for," he said.

Your cheeks flushed at his words, your laugh trailing off. "I found you in a dumpster," you told him, unable to stop the smile on your face. "I'm pretty sure I got something disgusting on my left hand, I have no idea what. I didn't want to leave you so I haven't had a chance to even just wash my hands. But are you…feeling okay? Do I need to call Claire? Take you to a hospital?"

"Everything isn't fully back yet," he told you. "But I can hear a little more now. This happened once before. In a bit everything should come back fully." His eyes dropped down near where your hand was and he grimaced before grinning. "You definitely don't want to know what's on your hand."

"Oh my God, really?" you asked, eyes widening as you looked down at your hand in horror.

He chuckled softly, his thumb brushing the skin of your chest where his hand still rested above your heart. "Yes, really."

"Okay, do you mind if I go scrub my hands a million times now?" you asked.

He shook his head, grinning wide. "No. Honestly we probably both could use a shower. Though I'm not sure I could quite navigate one right now."

"Is this your way of getting me naked in your shower with you?" you teased. 

"Sweetheart, I'm pretty sure I couldn't navigate that right now, either," he answered with a sheepish grin. "Which is a shame, because this isn't exactly how I pictured showering with you for the first time."

"Alright, well," you said, sitting up as Matt reluctantly removed his hand from inside of your shirt, "let's go get the mystery substances washed off of ourselves."

"They're not a mystery to me, unfortunately," Matt murmured with a cringe. 

Your nose scrunched up at his words. "I don't even want to know," you said, helping him up off of his couch. "You're probably going to want to clean your couch. And toss your clothes."

You led him carefully down the hall to his bathroom, pointing out obstacles and where to turn since his senses weren't fully back yet. Flipping on the light in the bathroom, you felt Matt's hand grab your wrist, pulling you to a stop.

"Thank you," he whispered, face serious when you looked back at him. "For coming to find me. Bringing the clothes and getting the suit back like you did. For–for staying with me. It…means more than you could know."

A soft smile slid across your mouth, your hand reaching down to cover his over your wrist. "It was worth it, knowing you're okay. I can't imagine how that must've felt losing almost all of your senses and being alone," you said.

"It…was not pleasant," he admitted. 

"I'm going to get the shower warming up," you told him. "So we can stop smelling like trash and I can stop wondering what is on my hand."

He released your wrist and you turned, pulling back the glass door and switching the water on. As you turned back around, you saw he was already tugging the shirt over his head, revealing his very defined abdominal muscles. Your heart sped up despite the situation you were currently in, your gaze lingering on his body. 

"Don't get too excited," Matt teased, his voice drawing you back and causing you to blush in embarrassment. "I told you I can't manage that right now. Though the moment I can–" he said, shooting you a cheeky smile, "–I'll give you a proper thanks for saving me."

Breathing harder, your eyes darted away, biting your lip in wonder about what a proper thanks would entail. Matt laughed lightly, the sound echoing in the bathroom.

"Been a few months and your heart still races when I say things like that," he said. "And I hope it always does."

"Knowing me," you said, nervously slipping out of your own shirt in front of him, "it probably will."

[sukunasstomachtongue]

The Race: Lap Two

Pairing: Sukuna x Bunny (black fem OC)

Rating: Mature | Minors leave me alone

Warning: Cursing, houseless character, light smut that I couldn’t follow through on, OOC Sukuna (don’t say anything I need comfort), my brand of humor, barely edited

Series Masterlist | Previously

“Well, if it isn’t little bunbun. Why are you here? Got fired for being a bad role model to the youth?” Gojo shifted his weight to rest his elbows on the counter. The harsh fluorescent lighting all government-funded buildings had washed out his complexion, yet he still managed to look nothing short of ethereal to Bunny.

She tsk’d, a habit of her boyfriend that she unfortunately picked up. How she managed to quietly slam the book in her possession closed would be a mystery to Gojo.

“If you’re not here to clear your debt, I’m gonna have to ask you to leave, Gojo. Technically you’re not even ‘sposed to be allowed within 20 meters of our doors.”

Both individuals refused to break eye contact, waiting for the other to chicken out and avert their gaze. Bunny had to fight off her signature sinister grin, the one she displays in the backstreets while riding shotgun in a barely street-legal car. No, she had to save that smile for the right time and place. The local public library barely surviving and on its last two legs hardly fit the criteria.

She gave him what Shoko called her ‘librarian smile.’ Kind and sickeningly sweet, giving the impression that she had all the time in the world to help a patron in need.

Gojo conceded after a few seconds of being on the receiving end of that smile. Her brown eyes glinted with victory.

“What if I did come to pay off my debt, hm? I can stay?” Bunny said nothing but went to work on her computer, lazily tapping the tablet on the patron side of the counter, prompting the man to move and look at the information displayed.

Gojo, Satoru

Amount Paid: $3.86

Amount Due: $834.98

Will you be paying: Cash, Credit/Debit Card, or Check?

“Fuck me, Bunbun! This is insane! What type of operation are you running?” Gojo groaned into his hands, ignoring the harsh glares aimed his way for his loud voice. Long nails tapped rhythmically against the keyboard, before clutching the side of the monitor and swinging it around to show more of his account.

“You have a bad habit of renting movies and never returning them. You rented ‘Return of the Mask’ and ‘Belly’ five years ago. Should I ask why those two movies were rented at the same time?”

Her taunts only drew more groans from his throat. Quickly slapping his face, Gojo reaches into his pocket, grumbling about unsuccessful hookups and drunken mistakes. The slam of his plastic card made no impact on Bunny. As quickly as he presented it, the librarian ran it through the system, clearing his debt.

“You know, now that you’re clear we can take down your mugshot on the bulletin board. Wanna take it home?”

The wide grin was all the answer she needed.

***

“Bunny, we need to restock our hygiene packs tonight. Glen said we’re down to five and it's only getting hotter out there.”

“I’ll get on it after I take my break.” She replied, busy logging books back into the system. After Gojo left, the library returned to its usual hushed business. Citizens came and went through the automatic door, focused on their own tasks.

Filling out job applications, playing computer games, writing an essay, meeting up for study sessions, and inquiring about citizenship classes, the library serves as a vital organ in the community. Its value is what made Bunny want to work there in the first place. All her tasks served a purpose for the greater good.

That’s what she had to tell herself to not lose her mind and go ballistic on the inconsiderate patrons and lazy coworkers.

Those hygiene packs were a task given to Glen, who passed it to Asano, who decided to drop it in Bunny’s lap before leaving for the day. Granted, at this location, Bunny didn’t have the authority or sway to go against an order.

Still, Bunny gritted her teeth and got to it like she said she would. The supply room had a table and old worn-out chair that could have been from the 70s, providing a workstation to build the packs. They were nothing lavish. A few water bottles, dental care, deodorant, a towel, new socks, and other necessities to ease the constant dingy feeling of being unhoused and exposed to the elements and the city’s unpleasant side.

She got into a grove after the first two packs were done, head bopping to city pop that fought the static out of the old radio in the corner to be audible. Every few packs, her neck would tilt to the side to lightly stretch the stiff muscles there. When she reached for the last pair of socks, her stomach grumbled. The few snacks she stole from the vending machine were not enough to tie her over until dinner.

Would Sukuna make his rendition of her grandmother’s red beans and rice tonight?

Thoughts now focused on food and related topics, she unchecked the box next to ‘socks’ on the supply list on their worn board. Hands full with the large bin they used to transport the packs outside, Bunny made her way outdoors.

In his earlier years, Glen had old lockers from a high school repurposed to look presentable along the inside of the exterior wall. They stood under the protruding concrete covering, shielded from harh weather conditions, visible from the central help desk inside where someone could keep an eye out. Opposite of the lockers was a poster from the early 70s, faded but still legible, inviting everyone inside to access resources everyone needed in the modern age.

For the last few hours of her shift, Bunny led story time in the children’s section, several coming from the school she worked at which led to many tears of joy and anger directed at her by children who were not happy to see her absent that day. Ending the story time with a nice group hug and a promise to return to her rightful post had her back in their good graces.

From there, she remained stationed at the help desk, offering book suggestions and recommendations to classes the library offered to the colorful clientel. The short hand on the clock had begun nearing 5, signaling the end of her time here. Making her rounds, Bunny waved her goodbye to the others as she walked to the back to retrieve her purse.

Stepping outside the automatic doors, the sight infront of her made her pause to confirm the person digging a pack out of the outdoor lockers was who she thought it was.

“Yuji?”

***

Dropping her bag on the table, Bunny released a loud sigh. Her shoulders ached after hours of shelving new and returned books all day. The local library had a much larger stock than the one at the schoolhouse, with more genres outside of children and young adult. It had been her first challenging shift in a long time, not including the last hour.

The smell of garlic invaded her nose, making the muscles flex as the button of her nose scrunched up. There was no reason for something out of season to smell so pungent.

“Come here and taste this broth, I’m not sure if I added enough paste.” There, with one hand tucked into the tie of his apron with the other clutching the ladle above the pot, stood her boyfriend, hard at work trying to feed them. The sight warmed her heart.

The onions brought tears to her eyes.

The surprise she had in store for Sukuna sent shivers down her spine.

“Suki…” He grunted and twisted at his waist to look back. Before she could open her mouth to continue, the hot ladle was at her lips waiting for entry. The tip of her pink tongue dipped in the liquid, coating her tastebuds with flavor.

“Good. Could use some lemon or citrus for some tang.” Sukuna eyed her with thought, taking her suggestion as he slurped the remaining broth, smacking his mouth to extract any hidden flavor.

“No. That’ll mess up the balance. This is why we can’t cook together.”

“We can’t cook together because you like to hog the front right burner.”

“It’s the best one.”

“It’s the biggest one and is supposed to be used for big pots, not frying a single egg.” Bunny grimaced as her shoulder tinged in pain, the already tired nerves becoming more agitated as she danced around her surprise. Just like a bandaid, Bunny coached herself. “ Suki-”

“Agree to disagree. Why are you wincing? Got into another fight with that old hag?”

“Fortunately no. She learned her lesson the last time.” Or maybe not like a bandaid at all, maybe like removing shrapnel from a wound. Nice and slow, and gently to not lacerate any nearby blood vessels.

“Good. I know you want to be a lady of leisure but right now we still need your income. Unless you wanna end up on the streets like that brat.” Or maybe not like a bandaid or like shrapnel. Instead, just like a rug being ripped from under her orthopedic loafers.

“Come on Yuji, he knows.” At her beckon, the pink-haired kid slid into the kitchen, back against the nearest wall. His arm was in a dingy cast and he looked weary. “How’d you know?”

An exasperated sigh came from the stove, followed by a slurp, hum, and finally, the click of the burner being switched from high to medium.

“My sweet stupid Bunny, did you already forget that we installed cameras last month? Set the table. And you, brat. Sit down and get ready to tell us everything.”

As she followed his demand, Bunny fell even more in love with her boyfriend.

****

Sukuna, Yuji decided after smelling the first decent meal he’s been given in three months, was not as bad as everyone on the scene said he was. Sure he had a temper and really didn't care for the community of street racing like most did - like Yuji did after losing his grandfather- but it didn’t make him a horrible person. In a way, Sukuna was on the other side of the same coin as Nanami. They both were serious about their chosen illegal interest but also had a life outside of it. Nanami with his day job, and Sukuna with-

“Fucking Martha decided she wanted to flirt with Geshin instead of completing her tasks. So guess who had to cover her thirsty ass instead of making the itinerary for the career workshop that’s happening in a week?”

“You?”

“Me. I wanted to cuss the bitch out for pulling that shit but I’m scared she might have a degradation kink or something. Y’know last employee evaluation I swear to god that hoe had stars in her eyes when Boss yelled at her about her performance.” Bunny ranted as her hands set the table, paying no mind to the opening notes of pork being cooked.

“Geshin… that's the guy who just had a baby, right?”

“Yep, and that’s his fifth baby this year. Man needs to get locked up at this point. He’s trying to become the next Genghis Khan. I don’t know why Martha would want his ass when she was just at his last baby shower. Eating that dry-ass cake like Betty Crocker made it.”

“Damn, that’s crazy.” At his commentary, she cut her eyes to look at the back of his head.

“What did you do today?” The roar of the pork being seared and fat popping against the heat of the pan set the ambiance in their kitchen.

“Nothing. Worked on my jobs, bought some shit online, got a call from the old man for the next race.”

“Oh yeah? When and where?”

“Next Weekend. It's a collab with some other organizers in the outskirts. The track is legit.” Calloused hands worked swiftly to cut the pork into manageable pieces while Bunny opened the kitchen window to air out the smoky atmosphere building up. Sukuna scoffed at the action, he thought Bunny was overdramatic for opening the window every time he cooked using fire.

He had a house, a business, someone to come home and compare days to, Yuji watched. It was a shock to him and anyone on the scene if they found out, except Gojo he assumed. Gojo poked and prodded at Sukuna like an old zookeeper who’s been tending to the same wild animal for decades.

“Next week?” Bunny pouted, the table was finally set with everything but the protein. She sat next to Yuji, still facing her significant other as they rambled on. Briefly, Yuji wondered if he took the older man’s seat, but made no move to relocate when Bunny began pouring water for three cups and opening a bottle of wine to pour into two glasses.

“I know, you have that convention.” For the first time all night, Sukuna looked at the kid at his dinner table. He looked hungry and noticeably thinner than the last time he was seen before that race. His arm had been set in a cast that took on a reddish-earthy brown. Their hair had the same disheveled look, but for two different reasons.

Briefly, the two males shared a thought.

Are we related, they thought to each other, with Bunny none the wiser as she placed portions on their plates.

“Thanks for the food.”

Yuji had not finished closing his mouth around the first bite before the older man probed him.

“Alright brat, start talking.”

Shifting the hot pork to the side of his mouth, Yuji spoke. “Got pulled out the car and an ambulance took me to the hospital. The doctors said it was a miracle I survived without any serious injuries. The only thing I really injured was my wallet.”

“They say we’re all one emergency from being homeless,” Sukuna muttered. Yuji took a stab at another piece of greasy steaming pork. Bunny quietly placed more food on the kid’s plate.

“They were right. I don’t have a dollar to my name. My car got compounded. No family. This is the first meal I’ve had this week.”

“Oh Yuji…” At her sorrowed tone, Sukuna’s lip pulled in one direction. Good thing they never threw out her old futon.

***

“What a day,” followed by a long yawn was how Bunny started her night routine. Stepping into the shower to wash away the past eighteen hours, she let out another loud yawn to emphasize her energy levels to Sukuna who stood at the vanity, completing his skincare routine.

No funny business tonight.

“I bet. On top of your job, now you want to become a mother.”

“Not a mother. A helping hand, that’s all. A fun auntie at most. Yuji is only 16, too young to be on the streets.” the shower door slid down its track, wide enough to allow another body to slip in behind her. Rough hands sheltered her shoulders from the water, radiating heat through the layers of melanin-rich skin.

“You and your bleeding heart. I can’t even begin to understand how you end up in these situations. He better not steal shit out of my office.” Sukuna talked, hands massaging along the muscles of her neck. Bunny sighed in relief, her lazy bun hitting the top of his pectorals as she relaxed.

“He’s a good kid. On the train, he basically sat between me and everyone else like a guard dog.” Her body wash added the mellow scent of cucumber melon to the humid air. As her sudsy cloth scrubbed her skin, her ass nudged the lazy weight of Sukuna’s dick.

“Oh, so thats what this is? You wanna take in a stray, huh? Thats it. Is this about the cat from last week? I know you were sad when it went back to its owner but you-”

A sharp about face interrupted his ribbing. Sukuna suddenly found it hard to concentrate with a steaming soapy woman clouding his retinas. Fuck Martha and Geishin and every single person at the stupid library for tiring his girlfriend out with their bullshit. She probably wouldn’t even take a simple cockwarming session with her energy so low.

“C’mon, Kuna. Be serious. Tell me you would have left him on the street looking like that?”

“I could have.” A glare had Sukuna retract his statement. Lifting a hand from her frame to wipe the droplets from his face, he ceded. “I get it. Fine, lets take the kid in for a bit, until he’s back on his feet.”

A downpour of water thudded at their feet as Bunny wrong out her cloth. Adding his soap, unscented for sensitive skin, she began working a lather on his abs. “He can help you in the shop.”

“Mmm, no. Sorry Bunny. This is your stray, your responsibility. Ask ‘im if he ever finished school. Get him a GED or some shit.”

“Like trade school.”

“Fuck, go ahead and adopt the kid.” The couple fell quiet after that. Sukana placed a few kisses on her temple when they took turns standing underwater to rinse. His hands slid down her skin and rested for a beat on the sides of her asscheeks. This was intimacy. Pulling her cheeks apart to let the water wash any trapped soap was the most intimate shit he’s ever down.

A ding from the towel warmer signaled the end of their shower. Before she could reach to turn the water off, Sukuna had pressed her against his body, their flesh conforming to each other. His dick twitched awake as he inhaled her scent. Cucumber melon, warmth, and smell that was purely her. He couldn't help but land a few kisses and nips along her neck as the water continued to spray.

The water bill would definitely be in the triple digits this month, much to Bunny’s chagrin.

“Y’so tense, Bunny. I think you need a massage.” He huffed into her ear, finally ready to turn off the water. The sudden cold goaded her into pressing herself tighter against her significant other, seeking more external warmth.

“Mm, that sounds nice.”

“C’mon pet, lets get you dry, huh?” Together, they exited the shower, steam spilling at their feet. Bunny detached from him and lazily bounced over the warm towels, wrapping one around herself and bringing the other to Sukuna to wrap around his hips.

“Go lay on the bed, pet. I’ll get the body oil.”

***

“Oh fuck, Kuna. Thank you, baby!” She moaned into the cotton sheets, her breath caught on the last syllable and making her high-pitched at the end. Sukuna’s hands were strong from his day job, and all the strength was being used on her, working knots and stagnant energy out her muscles. He had her belly down, with his thick thighs trapping her torso under his straddle. His fingers dug into the flesh of her upper back, bullying the blood up towards her neck and down her arms.

“Welcome baby. I gotta take care of you since you insist on taking care of that brat. You were already tired before. You gotta stop that bleeding heart of yours.” Sukuna let his drool drip freely on her oiled back, making the trip every few minutes to collect the saliva and massage it into her pores.

His dick was no better, beading at the tip and collecting in the small of her back. Bunny could feel it. He knew she could feel. She knew he knew she could feel it. Though her libido was rising to the occasion, her body yearned for rest. True rest. But she was too tired to dissuade Sukuna. Hell, as long as she didn’t have to ride she wouldn’t protest all that much.

His hands moved from her upper back back to her hips and the swell of her ass. Her skin gleaned under the big light. Under his touch, the oil, saliva, and cum mixed to create a new concoction.

“Oh fuck, bunny. I know you feel me.” He groaned as he bucked his hips, his dick sliding along the crack of her ass.

“I do but- I’m so tired, Kunabear.” the shake of her hips contradicted her words. Soft lips planted scorching kisses on her tattooed shoulder and warm hands moved from her ass to slide under her hips. “And, Yuji might hear us.”

“So just spread those pretty legs, toot that ass up for me, and bite down on a pillow so the kid doesn’t hear his savior getting fucked.” His fingers ran up her slit, collecting the escaped slick to rub against her clit. “Shit,” his hips bucked again, mindlessly rutting his dick against her oiled flesh. “Always wet for me, no matter what your mouth says, that pussy will always listen to me.”

“I-ah, fuck me. Here, damn.” Her hip rose as she arched her back perfectly. With more space to move, Sukuna trailed to her opening, keeping his thumb on her aching nub. A whine escaped her throat. He fingered her frantically, barely prepping her hole to take his heavy cock. “Gimma a kiss at least”

“How about ten?”

***

Bunny stared at the fresh coffee dripping down into the pot. Her body was enveloped in the robe Gojo got her from his last trip overseas. It was nice and fluffy and the cause of Sukuna’s hairy eyeball from across the room. It took everything in her to not laugh at him angrily stabbing his breakfast quiche.

“Don’t give me that look.” She scoffed. Her boyfriend rolled his eyes, too tired to start shit with a sleep deprived Bunny.

“Just make me a cup too. Gotta finish a couple projects today so I need to head out in a few. You going anywhere today?”

“No. I’ll be doing laundry and picking up after your mess.”

“That’s you hair in the drain baby. Don’t put that shit on me.” As they went back and forth, the stairs creaked under the weight of a body coming downstairs.

“Morning. Coffee?” Bunny offered him before yuji stepped foot into the kitchen. His eyes pingponged between the two adults before nodding, giving a grunted hello as he sat down at the same chair as last night.

Bunny busied herself with pouring three mugs, concocting hers and Sukuna with their usual cream and sugars. At the sight of Yuji’s eyebags, her hands reached out for the pot again to pour a little more into his mug.

She dispersed the mugs, keeping hers in one hand and digging the other in Sukuna’s wild hair. Wordlessly, he offered her a piece of his quiche.

“Sleep okay? I know the futon is old and seen better days?” She asked her ward. Yuji gave a brief shake of his head. He barely let the coffee cool before tilting half of the liquid down his throat.

“Futon’s fine. You guys were loud.”

Sukuna had to place his mug back on the table to avoid spilling it at the brat’s words. Red eyes attempted to meet his girlfriend’s but she had her head turned down to avoid any contact.

Yuji wanted to apologize for his comment, which was actually an understatement. From Yuji’s perspective last night, he’s surprised Bunny was fully functional today.

He could see why Gojo talked so much perverted shit about the woman. Megumi let it slip once that Gojo had a chance to get with the sassy librarian but Sukuna swooped in at the last second.

“Close your ears next time.” Bunny choked out, swooping down to take another piece of the quiche before leaving the kitchen, fluffy robe flouncing in the air.

The two males sat in silence, the sound of Sukuna scrapping the last of his breakfast up filling the void.

“Sorry.”

“I don’t give a rat's ass if you hear.” Sukuna replied, collecting his dishes and sipping the last of his coffee. “We do fuck loud and often. So if that’s a problem you should probably leave now.”

Yuji grimaced. He and Sukuna both knew putting up with a little noise was infinitely better than sleeping outside again.

“Bunny, I’m out!” Sukuna yelled, his rough voice reverberating through the room to wherever his girlfriend ran too. His keys were in his pocket and he was almost out the door before she responded.

“Take ‘im with you!” The men looked at each other again. Sukuna scanned the kid up and down, eyeing Yuji’s build and hands before grunting.

“You ever worked on cars?”

“Yeah. I can do the basics.” Yuji offered, hurriedly stuffing his feet into his shoes by the door.

“Yeah, well you’ll be doing filter changes and refilling wiper fluid. Let’s go.”

[themcytarchive]

Welcome to The Archive!

This is a blog dedicated to collecting reference images for mcyt based artists. This archive is currently dedicated to the life series but if all goes well I’m hoping to expand to other smps later on. 

TAGGING SYSTEM

Creators/Characters will be tagged by their biblically accurate name.

Creator List:

BdoubleO100

Etho

Goodtimeswithscar

Grian

Inthelittlewood

Ldshadowlady

Mumbo Jumbo

Pearlescentmoon

Renthedog

Skizzleman

Smajor1995

Smallishbeans

SolidarityGaming

Tango

ZombieCleo

bigbst4tz2

impulsesv

geminitay

Rather than tagging dynamics, just search the names in the dynamics

EX: Desert duo = #grian, #goodtimeswithscar

Seasons will be tagged on title

EX: #3rd life

Bases are a bit more complicated. Rather than tagging the name of the factions, bases will be categorized under: the creator/s who participated, the season, and the extra tag of base. You do not need to list all creators associated in the base alliance.

EX: Dogwarts = #3rd life, #rendog, #base or #3rd life, #inthelittlewood, #base

Archive updates, information, and questions will be tagged under #bulletin board.

Tag update: Jan. 4, 2024

For interior shots #interior

Tag update: Jan. 7, 2024

For notable locations/monuments #location

EX: double life pillager tower= #double life, location

For spawn #spawn

EX: last life spawn = #last life, #spawn

HOW DO I SUBMIT A REFERENCE?

You could either:

Leave a reference in the ask box

DM a reference to this blog

Tag this blog under photos

This blog is currently only operated by one person (ghost/charlie: she/her) but I may look into getting some mods later on to help. If you have any questions, do not hesitate to ask the front desk :]

RESOURCES

incredibly thorough spreadsheet of deaths courtesy of @goblin-in-the-rain

To be added:

-skin library

-fanon events

[cu-taibhseil]

i think a lot of people who are working on their grimoire / book of shadows or what have you forget is that it's supposed to be unique. your book of shadows isn't supposed to be filled with generalized information that just any witch can open up and use. you're not marketing your practice to the masses to consume. it's supposed to be unique, and weird, and messy, and filled with information so unique to your own practice that it's borderline gibberish to someone else.

here are some ideas on how to make your grimoire / book of shadows less accessible to other people and more accessible to yourself.

you can have as many books of shadows as your heart desires. you can have one for divination, one for spells, one for mushroom hunting, one you only use in the summer or the winter, etc. you don't have to shove all of your information into one notebook. separating the information will give you more room to go more in-depth for certain subjects. and it will make it harder for people to know exactly what you've got going on, if that's something you're into.

forget about aesthetics. forget about looking cool or legitimate or neat or organized. forget about how someone else would perceive your BoS/grimoire if they found it. if you're a new witch, and especially if you came from tiktok, you need to unlearn that witchcraft requires aesthetics and certain tools in order to be "legitimate." you can use a spiral bound notebook, you can use scraps of paper put in a manila folder, you can use a tumblr blog, you can print out pages from images on Google and put them in a 3 ring binder and call it day, you can use multiple bulletin boards hung up in your kitchen - ALL OF THOSE ARE LEGITIMATE MEDIUMS FOR A BOS! it's not about what looks the best, it's about what's the most functional for you - the term "book" is just a jumping off point.

come up with a written code that only you have the key to. get one from online, take one from history, or make up your own. write your grimoire or just the important pages, or even just the even or odd pages in code. make it so people cannot physically read your BoS. sigils and protections are great, but keeping people physically out is even better. mine is written partially in Scottish Gaelic and partially in a written code that i invented when i was 11. can anyone else read it? no. because that's the point.

go to the craft store and buy a journal lock. put a lock on it. wear the key around your neck. it'll make you feel so powerful, trust me.

include sketches and drawings of plants, animals, your altar, your house, you, your pets, stones, nature, etc. pretend like you're being paid to illustrate a children's book and go nuts. adding little drawings and sketches of the things you use in your practice, or things you see all of the time, or places you go is a great way to set the mood of your grimoire.

along the same lines, use crayons and colored pencils and markers not just black ink. use glitter. use ribbons. use bias tape. go to the craft store and get stickers. put those in there. whatever you think is cute or you like the best.

tape in more pages! if your notebook is only 100 pages long and you know you're going to need more pages, tape some more in! the limit is only how far the rubber band holding your grimoire closed will stretch before snapping (and even then you can just tie it with ribbon or twine or something)

you can also do taped in fold outs for maps, drawings, recipes, etc

why not add polaroid pictures or pictures you printed off google or pictures you got printed at walmart?

you can add stickers and sequins and glitter to the outside too. it doesnt need to look ancient and serious. we dont live in ancient and serious times. get funky with it.

if you've been struggling with your BoS or grimoire i hope this post helps you!

[recurring-polynya]

I was cleaning out my WIPs folder a few months ago, and I found the original draft of my Kira-and-Rose-Review-a-Restaurant story. It was nearly complete, and it's not anything earth-shattering, but it's also mildly entertaining, so I thought I would finish it up and send it out into the world. Then, of course, I procrastinated on that for months, but, hey! It's Kira's birthday! Happy birthday, Kira!

(read on ao3)

🍴 🐟 🍶

“Captain,” said Izuru, clutching his folders like a lifeline, “I think there’s been a misunderstanding.”

“My companion will have the tekkadon, but he would like the orange sauce on the side,” Captain Outoribashi informed the waiter. He squinted at his lieutenant. “Is that alright? Do you like tekkadon?”

“Er, yes, it’s fine,” Izuru excused. “Sir, when you said we could go over these budget requests over dinner, I thought we would go to a ramen stand or something. This is far too--”

Rose waved a hand. “It’s covered, don’t worry about it.”

Izuru chewed the inside of his cheek while his new captain continued to order a rather frightening amount of food. The waiter seemed to be taking all this in stride.

Captain Outoribashi couldn’t be more different than Captain Gin, he kept reminding himself. Rose was elegant and mannered, and was trying very, very hard to make everyone in Squad Three feel comfortable and welcome. He also had absolutely gorgeous waves of shining hair, velvety purple eyes that you could just fall into, and amazing taste in absolutely everything. Izuru would never have assumed in a million years that his captain would have any sort of… interest in someone like him, and yet, here they were. In a fancy restaurant. After work hours.

“Sir,” he started again, when the server had left. “It’s not about the money-- well, also, I feel you may have been misinformed, it’s true that I come from a noble family, but, uh… not a very well-funded one. It’s, just, er… I feel that a captain and a vice-captain should have a very professional relationship, you see, and this place is rather upscale, and I feel like you’ve gotten the wrong idea--”

Rose blinked at him. “You’re friends with Lieutenant Hisagi, no?”

Izuru’s cheeks colored. “Well, yes, sir, we’ve known each other since our school days.”

“He didn’t tell you?”

Izuru felt all the blood in his body fall down into his feet. “Tell me… what?”

“Well,” said Captain Outoribashi, with a sneaky smile on his face. “One of the first things I realized upon my return to Soul Society was that old curmudgeon Kyouraku Kenji had retired and that the restaurant review column had been vacant for nearly three years!”

“Wait, what?” Kira sputtered.

“According to your friend,” Rose rambled on, “His former captain felt that the column was elitist or somesuch and didn’t want to continue it, but what could be more egalitarian than communicating the rapture of fine dining to the masses? I thought I was going to need to lean on my good friend Kensei for a little old-fashioned favoritism, but Lieutenant Hisagi was perfectly willing to hand me the post, can you believe it? I assumed he might have mentioned it to you, you’re also a Bulletin contributor, are you not?”

“You’re here to review this restaurant?” Kira managed to get out.

Rose put an elegant finger to his lips. “Shh! We’re supposed to be secretive about it, but I refuse to use a nom de plume, so I am sure we’ll be quite infamous before long.”

“'We'?” Izuru echoed.

“Well, I need to try as many dishes as possible,” Rose mused. “I have to bring companions. You had a noble upbringing, so I’m sure your palate is quite sophisticated. And you’re a writer! I hope you don’t mind, but I was already planning on blatantly stealing any particularly clever turns of phrase that pass your lips.”

Kira felt frozen absolutely solid. Why did his captains always have to be so interested in him? Why couldn’t he get an icy asshole like Kuchiki who would forget he even existed whenever he was out of eyesight, or a battleax like the Kenpachi, who would just break his arms first thing in the morning? Who was he kidding? He knew very well he wouldn’t last ten minutes in Squad Eleven before someone ran his underwear up a flagpole.

Rose’s face fell. “If you’re not interested, just say so. I’m sorry for presuming. Do you happen to know anyone who likes fine dining? Kensei has excellent taste in cuisine, but he dislikes ambience, and you can’t take Hirako anywhere. Beyond that, I’m afraid I’ve fallen out of touch with many of my old acquaintances.”

No! Kira scolded himself. He has offered you a reasonable boundary and you can just say no. Say no, Izuru. Say it. Just because he’s lonely doesn’t mean it’s your job to be his friend. You’re his lieutenant and that’s all you have to be.

“An assortment of shiokara,” the waiter returned, setting a tray on the table holding a number of sampler bowls. “And your sake.”

“Do you like shiokara?” Rose asked, gesturing at the pots of fermented fish before picking up the sake. “Also, do you drink?” he asked belatedly. “I love it, but only with shots.”

“Ah, same,” Kira finally managed. “I tend to think of it as bar food, though, I’m a little bit skeptical of the artisan nonsense from the menu.” It was out of his mouth before he even thought about it-- you’re not at the izakaya with Hisagi and Abarai!! he reminded himself.

“Oh, Kira, you cannot say something like that and then refuse to give me your opinion on the finished product!” Rose sighed. “Please, just help me with this first review! I’ll…” he frowned. “I don’t know what you like. I’ll let you pick the music we listen to in the office for a whole week.”

Kira had already experienced the horror of Rose’s automatic music player that he had brought back from the World of the Living. “Er, that’s okay,” he replied. “I don’t really know any of the music you have. It’s probably better if you pick.” He grabbed a bite of firefly squid with his chopsticks. “I’m here, might as well.”

Rose’s face glowed.

---

  “ ‘...I found the dish quite pleasant, although more adventurous diners may find the flavors too subtle. My delightful dining companion, a man of culture and manners, proclaimed that ‘you could throw a rock toward Rukongai and hit a bar with better shiokara than this.’”

“Savage,” Rangiku declared.

Momo slammed her Bulletin down on the table. “How did you convince him to let you go along? I wish my captain took me to fancy restaurants!”

“Who says it was me?” Izuru frowned, sipping his sake. “I don’t think it ever said the guy’s name. It could have been anyone.”

“Later on, he says that you described the rosewater agar agar as ‘smelling like your great- aunt’s house,’" Renji pointed out dryly, "which is the same thing you said about that facial cream Yumichika tried to get you to use."

"Why do you pay attention to things like that?" Izuru griped.

"Because he took it very personally and complained to me for a month about it!"

"Anyway," Shuuhei broke in, "Captain Outoribashi told me it was you. He wanted to make sure you got your co-author stipend." He jerked his chin. "He said he wasn't sure if you were going to keep doing it with him."

Izuru shrugged. "It was sort of by accident that I ended up going anyway."

"Well, if you don't want to, tell him that I like going to fancy restaurants," Rangiku offered.

"I think it's a nice opportunity to get to know your new captain!" Momo announced. "But if you really don't want to, I also like going to fancy restaurants."

"I also think you should do it," Renji said. "I don't care about fancy restaurants, but that was the funniest restaurant review I've ever read. Captain Kuchiki thought it was hilarious, too, by the way."

"He what," said Izuru.

"He chuckled softly and shook his head," Renji translated.

Izuru had to take a minute to process that one.

"Also, that sweet, sweet co-author stipend," Shuuhei pointed out.

Izuru glared at him.

"Look, it's too soon to have more than anecdotal feedback, but my editorial instincts tell me this column is going to be a big hit. You and Captain Outoribashi have rapport, Izuru! Chemistry!"

Izuru frowned, deeply. "He's my boss, Hisagi, and he's only been that for three weeks. All I want with him is an appropriate work relationship with healthy and firmly respected boundaries."

"How about a 10,000 kan per month dining budget?" Shuuhei replied, and took a shot of sake. "Alcohol permitted."

"Oh," said Izuru. "Well. Maybe that, too."

~

If you enjoyed this, maybe you'd like to read their review of the Seireitei Waffle Hut?

[altschmerzes]

augh. the fuckening continues. Some More Stuff has gone down with my shitty shitty dad. yes. the one that died. It Continues To Go Down, Some Fucking How.

if you saw me talk about this somewhere else already sorry lmao. i don't even know why i'm like. i know there are people who i want to know things about how my life is going and who are invested in how i'm doing who follow me here and wouldn't have seen this elsewhere so it's like. sort of a bulletin and also i'm still just. it's circling around in my head kind of inescapably so. here's this. sorry for the continued oversharing re: The Fuckening, hopefully this'll be the last of it but apparently there is no way to remotely guarantee that he will stop pulling shit like this despite literally no longer being alive.

theres been a whole Thing where my dad had a life insurance policy through his work and the people from his job contacted our family and said that my sister and i were listed as the beneficiaries on the policy and so they needed the death certificate and our information to get that taken care of. i have been the one primarily in contact with the lady handling it, we emailed and talked on the phone a few times. and then recently my sister got something in the mail from the insurance people and i didn’t and we wondered if it was a problem with my address being canadian or my name change and so i called the insurance company today to get that sorted. according to them, based on the information provided by his work, I Am Not A Beneficiary. it’s just my sister, im listed as a contingency in case something happened to them before him or whatever i guess. so now there’s. that. going on. which, like. it makes sense, my sister is the one he had a relationship with and that’s a choice i made and it’s not like im owed anything but it’s still like. once again my sister is everyone’s favourite and im Nobody to my family unless they’re directly reminded i exist. except that like. he did remember i existed. he deliberately and specifically listed me as the backup and it was like- i felt weird about the whole thing already. Really Weird about it but this did not. make me feel Less Weird.

and it's like i just. why couldn’t the HR person from his job have read the fucking form correctly if that’s what it said this whole time. why was i listed as a CONTINGENCY beneficiary in the first place. i knew that man, i knew how his mind worked, i remember how every time i saw him when we WERE speaking he would inevitably bring up my brother and how my brother wouldn’t talk to him and how much that sucked. listing my sister for this policy and then adding me as a Backup Plan was like. this wasn’t about wanting to take care of my sister and just not thinking of me at all. so it’s like all the rest of it and now just. knowing, like knowing this was a choice he made to Punish Me for not being involved in his life. because his focus was never on what he had it was always on what he didn’t and how unfair and horrible it was that he didn’t have it. if he just hadn’t thought about me at all his partner of 11 years would be listed as the contingency if they Needed him to have one, the only reason to have put my name down like that was to Make A Point and to get back at me for walking away from him and it just?

like who does that. i cant get my mind around it. there is literally no reason for my name to have been included the way it was except to make a point and that’s what im upset about, not the inheritance stuff, it’s just. he was a vicious, petty, vindictive person and he got one last shot in to hurt me the only way he could because i wouldn’t talk to him. that letter he sent last year to my grandmothers house, this, he like. he hated me, i think. some part of him was so angry at me that he hated me and wanted to hurt me in any way he could even just by writing my name down like Not You Though, The Other One Is The One I’m Acknowledging As My Child Who I Want To Care For And Protect In The Event Of My Death, But I Need It To Be Clear It’s NOT You on paperwork he probably never thought anyone else would see. how pissed and resentful do you have to be for that to be something you think to do.

just like. was it not enough. was what he did to me when i was a kid not enough. why do things have to KEEP happening. why does he KEEP needing to find ways to hurt me as bad as possible because that is the outcome he wanted. was to hurt me as bad as he could in whatever way he could. just. what the fuck.

yknow in my like. ninth grade english class there was this one super insane day after it was made extremely clear that my teacher had no control over the class and wasn’t gonna try and rectify that where these two kids who hated each other got in this big fight like. mid-class. and the way this fight took place is one of them was shouting across the room and the other was, and this is not a joke, repeatedly changing the name of a wifi hotspot on his phone, as a way of responding to her. this is about that level of petty, immature bullshit. conducting a fight with someone by changing the name of a wifi hotspot. getting back at your bitch of a daughter who won’t talk to you by filling out HR paperwork so that it’s SUPER clear you only meant the other one and NOT this one SO THERE. etc. what a fucking child.

[peanut-tyrug]

Pink City AU: Hunt for the Boxman

Chapter 1 - Unboxing the Meat and Potatoes

Hoonis, Elain, and Dento discover that a particular actress of old has returned to the Pink City. The trio sets out to look for her, although, a peculiar threat appears to be dangling over them like hung up meat slabs…

—

NOTICE: This AU is partially based on my ideas/interpretation. If anything appears to be inaccurate, I apologize. I tried to work with what little I had to make smth. I also took a few artistic liberties.

Another thing: THE PINK CITY AND IT’S CHARACTERS DO NOT BELONG TO ME!! IT BELONGS TO GOOSEWORX!! Some canon lore for The Pink City has also been implemented in this story. This is just an AU/story I made based on it. If you’d like to check out The Pink City series itself, check it out here!

—

TRIGGER WARNING: This fic contains mentions of murder/cannibalism, drugs/mentions of drugs (laced food), mentions of psychological episodes, swearing, and trauma. If you aren’t comfortable with these things, don’t read this.



Hoonis drags Elain along as he runs, Dento quickly following behind. Elain can barely keep up with the drag as she almost trips. Dento lags behind a bit.

Many twists and turns are made. Elain has no idea where Hoonis is taking them. After a bit, Hoonis eventually stops by a small apartment complex. The show host rushes up the stairs to an upper level and screeches to a halt. He approaches his room door.

Elain puts her hands to her knees, catching her breath… she felt as if she could vomit. They went that fast, turned that quickly. Dento eventually catches up, out of breath, and storms over to Hoonis. He taps the man’s shoulder and looks at him angrily, as if to ask 'What was that!?'

Hoonis looks back to Dento, slightly confused, until he looks over to Elain, who is still trying catch her breath and not regurgitate.

“Oh! I’m sorry!” Says Hoonis. “I suppose I went too quick.”

Dento questions what the hell that even means. He supposes he went to quick? He and Elain could barely keep up! …Dento is beginning to regret agreeing with Elain to join this man…

Hoonis eventually opens the door to a small rickety apartment. Elain and Dento peek inside… it doesn’t look terrible. Just unkempt.

“Ignore the mess.” Says Hoonis as he steps in. He approaches another room in apartment as Elain and Dento follow. Hoonis opens the door to the room. Elain and Dento take a peek.

Their eyes widen.

The duo takes sight of a small, dimly lit room. Papers and small notes are scattered on the ground. Against one wall is a desk. On another wall is a bulletin board, full of sticky notes hanged up by thumbtacks. Red thread connects some of the notes together.

Hoonis enters the room. Elain and Dento, hesitantly, enter after him. Dento shuts the door.

Hoonis turns to face the pair. “This is where I’ve done all of my research on Darles Nemeni!” He says. “I’ve searched for years and years, yet I haven’t been able to get anywhere! I’m hoping you two have what it takes to help me?”

The pair nod. Elain even grabs a small blank note on the ground… she needs something to write with…

“Oh!” Says Hoonis. He goes to his desk and grabs a pencil. He hands it to Elain.

Elain begins writing something on the note. She shows Hoonis. 'We’re Bounty Hunters'

“Bounty Hunters?” Hoonis asks. “You work in law enforcement?”

Both nod.

“Wonderful! Just what I needed!” Says Hoonis. “Do you need a rundown?” He asks as he steps toward his bulletin board.

The pair nods and steps by Hoonis.

“Good!” Says Hoonis. He prepares to monologue. “I’ve already informed you of who Darles is. I’ve went around asking many to see if anyone had seen him, but, I had no luck. I’ve talked to as many former workers of his I could find, and got nowhere… I’ve looked at interviews, I’ve looked at various investigations, and yet, nothing! …I only wish I had more to interrogate…”

Suddenly, Hoonis’ phone pings. He takes out his phone and opens it up.

His suddenly go wide. He dramatically gasps.

Elain and Dento look on in confusion at the man.

“Oh, my God!” Hoonis shouts. “She’s coming! She’s coming back to the city!”

The Bounty Hunting pair looks on at the gushing man. Dento then approaches the man and taps his shoulder.

Hoonis stops gushing and looks to Dento, confused, before realizing what he wants.

“Oh! An actress who worked with Darles is returning to the Pink City!” Says Hoonis. “She had left the city to get back with family. But now, she’s returning for old time’s sake! If we can find her, then we can speak with her about Darles! Look!”

Hoonis turns his phone screen to show a recent social media post from a woman named Thlouretta Gudds, her big and blue head taking up her profile picture.

Elain’s eyes light up. Dento looks on in confusion. He taps Hoonis’ shoulder again and looks up at the man. A look that asks 'But how do we find her?'

“Oh! Uhh…” Hoonis pauses. “…I’m not sure… do you both have any Bounty Hunting equipment to track her down with?”

Elain nods. Dento looks to Hoonis and picks up a blank note. He goes over to Elain and she hands him the pencil. He writes and shows to Hoonis: 'I don’t want to use our equipment like that'

“Oh.” Says Hoonis. “…Sure. It won’t be as practical, but it’s better than getting arrested.”

Dento writes again and shows Hoonis: 'It wouldn’t hurt if we retrieved our gear, though. We could be prepared for threats'

“You have a point there!” Says Hoonis. “You two can head home if you like. You don’t mind me tagging along, do you? I want to make sure none of us gets lost. I’ll wait outside, if you don’t mind.”

Elain nods. So does Dento, although hesitantly.

The trio exit the small apartment and the Bounty Hunting duo heads to their apartment, a fair distance away from Hoonis’.

As they walk, Elain and Dento can’t help but feel they’re being watched…

The duo turn their heads to face some shrubs nearby. They stare into the darkness behind the small plants…

The leaves rustle.

The duo quickly jumps in front of Hoonis, ready to defend him in case something pops out from the shrubs.

“Huh?” Hoonis exclaims. “What’s wrong?”

Dento turns back and shushes him. Hoonis stays quiet.

They wait…

Nothing.

The duo begins to relax…

Until, as they turn and continue to walk, something… or someone, taps Elain’s shoulder.

Elain jumps and moves back, bumping into Dento a bit. Hoonis moves back from sheer shock.

Elain and Dento recognize whose stepped up. Hoonis however, is confused out of his mind.

The figure is a 'pointy-nosed' man dressed in a long black trench coat and small hat bearing a skull and crossbones.

“Whose that?” Hoonis asks. “Do you know him? Is he a Bounty Hunter?” Hoonis asks.

The man looks caught off guard by Hoonis’ question. He then looks to Elain and Dento, wondering how this stranger knows that about his coworkers…

Shivers travel up the duo’s backs.

The man pulls out a small phone from his trench coat. He’s texting someone…

Dento’s phone buzzes. A text from the man.

'Who is this? Why is he with you? Why does he know your occupation?' The text reads.

‘He’s looking for a lost man' Dento responds. ‘We’re helping him'

'And he has to know things he should not, why?' The man asks.

'He asked' Dento responds. 'He’s no harm to us'

'Affirmative?'

'Yes'

The man nods. He shows Hoonis his ID so he can get his name.

“…Vondu.” Hoonis reads. Vondu nods. He then pulls out a tablet, a Target Buddy. Elain and Dento look intently, while Hoonis remains curious.

Vondu scrolls down to a yet to be caught bounty, The Hot Dog Brothers. Twins wanted for murder and cannibalism, acquiring whatever meat they can, completely regardless of the process, and making food of it to serve… including meat from people. Vondu taps at the screen, asking if the duo had seen them anywhere.

Dento texts Vondu: 'We haven’t seen them. We’ve been on a break. Sorry'

Elain then takes her phone out to text the fellow Hunter. Dento takes a peek to see what she says. 'We heard rustling in the shrubs nearby' She says. 'Maybe look there?'

'That was me, miss' Responds Vondu.

'Oh' Elain responds. 'Sorry'

‘You’re fine' Texts Vondu. ‘Let me know if you find those brothers'

Dento and Elain nod. Vondu steps steps past them. The trio continues down their own path.

—

Elain and Dento remain in their apartment, looking for their gear. Hoonis remains outside, trying not to look suspicious to anyone who may pass by.

As the pair prepares to head out, Elain’s phone buzzes. She sees a text from Dento.

'You think we can find that lady?' The text reads.

'I hope so' Elain responds. 'I wanna find that man I saw'

'I think we should keep watch for those brothers too' Dento responds. 'We may be on a break but we can still help'

'Yea' Elain responds.

'You still doing okay?' Dento asks.

Elain had been doing fine… she hadn’t been focused on all that happened to her… best not to focus on it now.

You’ll be fine.

'I’m good'

'K' Dento responds. 'Let me know if you need to step down or anything'

'I will' Elain responds.

Elain and Dento eventually leave their apartment, all dressed in their Bounty Hunting gear. Hoonis turns, his eyes go wide.

“Wow!” Says Hoonis. “Very authoritative! Now, let’s get a move on! We’ve got an actress to look for!”

The trio sets off back into the city, ready to find Thlouretta.

Regardless of the fact that they don’t have a lead on where in the city she is.

—

The trio walks about on the street. The city is still covered in violet hue. The sky is still dark… not many citizens are out on the streets either. It’s quiet. It’s creepy.

Hoonis leads the trio, strutting forward. Elain and Dento walk behind him.

Hoonis then comes to halt in front a small grocery shop. The lights are stilll on, and the sign on the door shows it’s open, but no one is inside.

“…Why don’t we give here a shot?” Hoonis asks, looking back to the Bounty Hunters. “You never know, you know!”

Elain and Dento nod.

“Great!” Says Hoonis. “Follow me!”

The trio enters the shop. Around the premises are a few check out stations and isles filling the capacity of the building.

…Also among the area is the lingering scent of—

“Hello!” Says an unknown voice.

The trio turns. They see an oddly cheery store worker.

“Welcome!” Says the worker. “How can I be of service to you? We get it if you may not know the layout, we’ve recently opened.”

“Uh…” Hoonis stammers. “We aren’t really here to—!”

Elain and Dento drag Hoonis over to the side. The worker watches as they suddenly leave.

“Let me or my associate know if you need anything!” Says the worker.

“What’s wrong?” Hoonis asks. “He appears innocent.”

Dento pulls out his Target Buddy and shows Hoonis a picture of the bounty Vondu was after, the Hot Dog Brothers. He then points to the worker they had met. Indicating the possibility that it’s a disguise.

“…Are you sure?” Hoonis asks.

Dento appears to have been offended.

“…Oh.” Says Hoonis. “Sorry. You are the Bounty Hunters here.”

Dento nods.

“…I think I have a proposition.” Says Hoonis. “Why don’t I look for Thlouretta, and you two take care of the brothers?”

Elain and Dento nod.

“It’s settled!” Hoonis exclaims.

Elain and Dento quickly hush Hoonis.

“…Sorry.” He whispers.

The trio seperates. Hoonis sets off on his own while Elain and Dento head off together.

Dento then texts Elain. 'I think we should stick together' He says. 'Either one of them could suddenly strike us. It could quickly become two against one if we aren’t careful'

'Yea' Elain responds.

'Try not to get distracted or smth' Says Dento. 'Stay focused'

'I will' Elain responds.

Elain’s phone buzzes again. This time though, it’s not a text from Dento. Dento looks to the screen.

It’s from Vondu.

'I thought you were on a break' Reads the text.

'How do you know we’re here?' Elain asks.

'I peeked over an isle and saw you two and that other man' Texts Vondu.

'Even if we’re not working right now, we still want to help' Texts Elain.

'I see' Texts Vondu.

As Elain and Dento look at the new message, footsteps are heard. They look up.

Vondu stands at the end of the desolate isle. A floating hand hovers up. He gestures for the Bounty Hunters to approach. They head off to where they can’t be seen to devise a plan.

—

Hoonis walks down an isle, glancing around. He doesn’t see anyone that looks like who he’s looking for.

…He’s beginning to lose hope. What if Thlouretta isn’t here? What if they never find her?

He’ll just be back at a dead end again. Back where he was before he went around asking for help. Where he was after he had spoken with Bep… what was he going to do when all of his attempts to find Darles were unsuccessful…?

“Hello, sir!” Says a voice.

Hoonis snaps out of his depressing thinking. “AH!” He yelps. “I’m sorry! I didn’t see you there! Who are you?”

“I’m a worker here! My brother’s associate!” Says the associate. “Are you alright? You appear to be down.”

“Oh, uh…” Hoonis hesitates. “I’ve just been—“

As he recalls his thoughts, he remembers Dento’s suspensions.

They are the Bounty Hunters here, after all.

“A-actually, I’m alright!” Says Hoonis. “No need to worry!”

“Are you sure?” Asks the associate. “I feel otherwise! You looked down, so I thought I’d help!”

“I’m fine, really!” Says Hoonis.

“Brother!” Calls the approaching worker. “Is something the matter?”

“I think we got a liar on our hands!” Says the associate, pointing to Hoonis.

“What? No!” Says Hoonis. “Whoever said anything about a liar? I’m no liar!”

“You suuuure?” Asks the associate.

“Give him some space, brother!” Says the worker. He then suddenly pulls out a small sample tray from seemingly nowhere. “How about a sample to calm your nerves?”

“I don’t need one! Honest!” Says Hoonis.

“Oh, come on, sir!” Says the worker. “You’ll regret iiiit!”

'It couldn’t be that bad, could it?' Hoonis thinks to himself.

…If only he knew…

Hoonis takes a sample off the tray. It’s a small little meat cube. The worker and associate watch as the show host ingests the small cube.

Hoonis begins to bubble with glee. “Oh, I like this!” He says. “What’s in it?”

“Oh! That’s a secret, sir!” Says the associate.

“Family recipe!” Says the worker. “Would you like another?”

“Sorry, but no thank you!” Says Hoonis. “I’m a busy celebrity, and I’ve got things to do!”

“Ah, we get it.” Says the worker. “Let us know if you want another sample!”

“I will!” Says Hoonis. “I should let the others try those!” He says to himself as he passes down another nearby isle.

As Hoonis treads, he begins to feel… oddly weak… his vision blurs and his movements sag. As he limps, he quickly falls to the ground, completely out cold.

The brothers slowly approach the passed out host. The worker picks him up and carries him to another part of the shop, the associate following. A small cooler room next to a frozen section. The worker tucks Hoonis’ unconscious body next to a counter. The worker exits and shuts the door. The brothers quietly step away and their cheery demeanors return.

—

The Bounty Hunters are huddled in a small spot underneath a counter, barely visible to whoever may be around. The three discuss what they could do. They’ve made a small group chat to discuss their plot.

'Keep your eyes peeled. Check behind doors. They could be anywhere' Reads a text from Vondu.

'Likely' Texts Dento. 'This place reeks of meat'

'A calling card?' Elain questions. 'The meat smell, I mean'

'Kind of?' Dento texts.

'I would imagine so' Texts Vondu. 'Their whole thing is meat'

'Should we separate?' Dento asks.

'Yes' Vondu responds. 'You and Elain go together, I go alone'

'Got it' Dento and Elain respond.

The trio the begins to exit the counter. As they separate, a familiar face walks up to Elain and Dento.

“Hello!” Says the worker. “What were you doing behind the counter?”

Elain and Dento scour for an answer. Before they can respond however…

“Oh, it’s fine! Don’t mind it!” Says the worker. “We do have samples, by the way! If you want those!” He steps away.

As the worker heads off, Elain takes notice of something toward the man’s lower waist.

A zipper.

A zipper on his back.

Elain wants to unzip it, but Dento stops her. The two progress forward, looking for any clues.

—

Vondu wanders through the freezer section against the back wall, looking for any doors that could lead to some kind locked off room. As we walks, he spots a door to small freezer room. The window on the door has a layer of frost on it, making it difficult to see inside.

Vondu slowly steps over to the door, trying to look inconspicuous. As he scoots to the door, he slowly reaches a hand to the doors lock.

“Excuse me!” A voice calls.

Vondu jolts at the sound. He turns to see the associate.

“Customers aren’t allowed in there!” Says the associate. “I’d imagine you know that.”

Vondu nods and moves away from the door. He stands in place, completely still.

“Good!” Says the associate. “Keep away from that door, now! Or you’re banned!” He begins to turn away.

As he turns, Vondu notices something on the man’s lower waist gleaming in the store lights.

A zipper.

As the man walks off, Vondu tries to sneak a hand toward the zipper. The hand slowly approaches it, trying not to be noticed. The hand gently places itself onto the zipper and begins to slowly zip upward. As the man turns, the hand continues to rise. Vondu quietly follows the man as he walks, not paying attention.

As the zipper moves up, more of what’s underneath can be seen.

…Overalls. The kind a hillbilly would wear…

The zipper then reaches the top of the man’s head. Vondu removes his hand and watches at the costumes slowly sags and falls to the ground.

What is underneath shocks the Bounty Hunter.

Underneath that costume is a pinkish mass of flesh and muscle. The fat on the man flops, like the man had sucked it up to fit in the costume. The top of the head resembles that of a… hot dog…

It’s a Hot Dog Brother.

The brother stops walking and slowly turns his head to face the Bounty Hunter.

Vondu quickly pulls back his coat to reveal a stash of guns, which protrude from the coat’s darkness. They all point toward the bounty.

Before any of them can fire however…

The brother slams his fist into Vondu’s face, getting him down to the ground.

“…You’ve made a grave mistake there, partner.” The brother says in a thick country accent.

Vondu struggles to get up to his feet as the brother hovers over Vondu, pinning him to the ground. Popping out from a nearby isle is the worker, approaching the bounty and Hunter.

“You seem to be in a pickle!” Says the worker. “How about a sample?”

The worker pulls out the sample tray and shoves a sample down Vondu’s throat. As Vondu struggles to get back up and breathe, his vision begins to blur and he slowly stops moving. All before falling unconscious.

The brother carries Vondu over to the freezer room where he’s placed. He exits to face the worker.

“You’d best get your costume back on.” Says the worker. “I think we got Bounty Hunters among us. I’ll handle the other two, you get your costume back on.”

The brother nods and heads for his costume. The worker heads off the find the no good do-gooders.

—

Elain and Dento exit another room. No sight of anything out of the ordinary. As they exit, the worker approaches them again.

“Hello again!” Says the worker “If you don’t mind me asking, would you like a sample?” He pulls out a sample tray with little meat cubes on it.

Elain and Dento shake their heads. They aren’t in the mood, nor do they trust the workers.

“Come on! You’re missing out!” Says the worker. “Your friends really liked them! They wanted you to try them!”

The duo doubts the statement.

…Matter of fact…

…Where were Hoonis and Vondu…?

The duo had been around the entire store, and hadn’t seen either of them…

“I need an answer now, please!” Says the worker.

The duo glance at each other. They then try to walk past the worker.

“Hey!” Says the worker. He catches up to them. “Not even a nibble?” He shoves a meat cube in Elain’s face. She slaps it away. Her and Dento begin scurrying off.

New objective: Look for Hoonis and Vondu.

“Oh, dear.” Says the worker. He pulls out a walkie-talkie from his side. “Brother? You got your costume back on? They’re onto us.”

Elain and Dento scurry toward the wall, looking for any door they can find.

Suddenly, the associate approaches.

“Excuse me!” Says the associate. “I’ve heard you’ve been causing a ruckus! Please quit that behavior, or you’re out!”

Elain and Dento ignore the threat. They both draw their guns.

“Drawing a gun on me?” Says the associate. “That’s a criminal offense!”

As they’re about to shoot, quick footsteps are heard.

The worker.

Dento quickly turns. He shoots the worker in the leg. He falls.

“Ack!” The worker shouts in anguish. He grips his injured leg.

“Brother!” The associate shouts.

Elain then hands Dento her gun. She hurries to the associate while he’s off guard and tackles him. He’s brought to the ground. As Elain pushes the man to his back, Dento draws his guns at the injured man.

Elain gets to associate on his back and spots the zipper. She zips up the zipper, the body under it slowly being revealed. The Hot Dog Brother pushes Elain off of him. The suit slowly flops the ground.

Elain receives her gun from Dento. Both turn to face an individual brother.

“Oh, dear.” Says the worker. “It appears the jig’s up.”

The worker then begins to unzip his suit. It falls to the ground, revealing the brother underneath. The two now revealed Hot Dog Brothers stare the Bounty Hunters down, the Hunters still holding out their guns.

The Hunters waste no time. They immediately start shooting at both of them. Bullets go flying, hitting through the walls. The brothers quickly dodge. They separate, going after an individual brother, being careful with their shots.

“Can’t catch me, miss lady!” Says the brother Elain’s chasing.

Elain is offended by the name. She begins to shoot at him even more.

The two brothers cross paths pass an isle, Elain and Dento on each end. Elain on the right, Dento on the left. Their individual targets in the same respective directions.

The left brother hands the right brother the sample tray. They stand, waiting…

Dento glances over to Elain, she glances back. Indicating to be careful, since they have that platter. Those little meats are likely laced…

Elain nods.

Then it pops in her head.

…Laced.

Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it…

Focus.

Elain focuses hard on her target, eyes wide and face stern. Her gun trembling slightly in her grip.

“One of y’all better move.” Says a brother. “We ain’t movin' til you do!”

Elain then tries to shoot.

*Click*

Nothing.

Elain stares at her gun, confused.

She pulls the trigger again.

*Click*

Nothing again.

*Click Click Click*

…Out of bullets…

…Shit.

Before she can even think to reload, the right brother tackles Elain and wraps his free arm around her waist, still holding the platter. Elain is unable to move. He sets the platter on a small isle shelf and takes her gun. He chucks it away.

Dento tries to shoot the brother holding his friend, but fails, as he’s also quickly ambushed by the other brother before he can shoot.

The brother carrying Dento steps over to the other. Both Hunters squirm in their grasps, but are unable to find a weak spot in their grips. Despite their meek arms, they’ve got strength.

“Look at 'em.” Says one brother. “Squirming like babies!”

The Hunters continue to struggle. Each time they think they can get through, their pushed back into brothers’ stomachs, keeping them in place.

The two brothers then grab a meat cube from the platter. They struggle, but they eventually shove the cubes down the Hunter’s throats.

With time, the Hunters’ movements begin to slow. They fall unconscious.

The two brothers carry the Hunters to the freezer room. As they leave, one brother looks to the other. “I think it’s time we close up shop.” He says. The other nods.

They bring down metal doors to cover the windows. Flipping the small sign to say 'Closed'.

—

It’s quiet…

…And extremely cold…

Hoonis slowly comes to. “…Eugh…” He groans.

Then it hits him.

…That sample… it must’ve been laced with something…

Hoonis looks around.

…Others are with him. Also knocked out cold.

Elain, Dento, and Vondu. All of them sit on the ground, not moving, but still breathing.

“…Dear, G-God…” Says Hoonis, shivering.

“E-excuse me?” Asks a feminine voice, speaking through a text box. She sounds like she’s shivering.

Hoonis looks over to the source of the sound.

His eyes widen. He sharply gasps.

Right there. Right next to him. Right by his side, Thlouretta Gudds, the actress of Mimlimim from 'The Darly Boxman Show', standing right there.

“…S-sorry if I’m bothering you, but do you know how to get out of here?” She shivers. “Oh, j-j-jeepers… it’s cold in here…”

Hoonis slowly rises, staring at Thlouretta intently. “I-I’m not dreaming a-am I?” He asks.

“…H-huh?” Thlouretta questions.

“…You’re who’ve I-I-I’ve been looking f-for!” Says Hoonis. “T-T-T-Thlouretta G-Gudds!” His excitement not keeping his stuttering back from being cold.

“Y-yes.” Says Thlouretta. “W-what were you l-looking for m-me for?”

“D-do y-you remember someone by t-the name of—” Hoonis speaks.

Suddenly, before Hoonis can finish his question, footsteps are heard. The two duck and hide under a counter as one of the Hot Dog brothers enters the room and heads deeper within.

“O-oh my…” Whispers Thlouretta. “Who w-was that?”

As Hoonis prepares to answer as best as he can, Vondu suddenly peers underneath the counter the duo was hiding in.

“G-golly!” Thlouretta exclaims quietly. “You s-scared me, s-s-sir! Who’re y-you?”

“H-he’s a man o-of the l-law!” Whispers Hoonis. “He’s s-s-safe.”

“O-oh.” Says Thlouretta. “A-anyway, do e-either of you k-know a-a-a way o-out?”

Vondu glances around before going to the door leading out into the store. He tries to open it, but it doesn’t budge.

“…O-oh, dear…” Says Thlouretta.

“We’ll f-find a way out o-of h-here.” Says Hoonis. “I p-p-promise.”

“T-thank you, sir.” Says Thlouretta.

“Oh, c-call me H-Hoonis.” Says Hoonis.

“T-that’s a nice n-name.” Says Thlouretta.

As Vondu continues to struggle with the door, approaching footsteps are heard. He quickly huddles with Thlouretta and Hoonis. They watch as a Hot Dog Brother emerges from the darkness.

“…Shoot.” He says. “This’ll do, I guess.”

He bends down and picks the still unconscious Elain and Dento from the ground and carries them into the darkness. As he walks, Elain’s fedora falls from her head.

“…Oh, d-dear…” Says Thlouretta.

“What’re w-we g-gonna do?” Hoonis asks, turned to Vondu.

Vondu then sneaks out from the counter. He takes Elain’s fedora and stuffs it in his coat. He turns back to the actress and show host and gestures to them to approach. They group together as Vondu slowly leads them down the dark hallway.

The small hallway leads into another small yet warmer room. The trio huddles into a darker part of the hallway.

They watch as Elain and Dento are hung up by a rope above grinders.

Not just any grinders, however.

Meat grinders.

The trio stares in horror. Vondu moves ever so slightly closer when the twins aren’t around and gets a look at the room. He then goes back to the freezer. The others follow.

He’s got an idea.

—

The Hot Dog Brothers prepare their grinders to be used on the captured Bounty Hunters. As they prepare the contraption, they boast on about their new meat type.

“I think it’ll be quite good, Bounty Hunter meat.” Says one brother.

“Heh, exactly!” Says the other brother. “I think it’ll finally get our sales back up!”

As the brothers finish their preparations, a loud clang is heard from nearby.

“What was that?” One brother questions.

“…Probably rats.” Says the other. “C'mon, we got little pieces of shit to get rid off.”

As the brothers enter the room, they turn.

Leaving the trio unnoticed.

Hoonis and Vondu exit out of the freezer and into the grinding room, while Thlouretta silently follows the brothers deeper into the freezer. Vondu helps Hoonis up to reach the Bounty Hunters and get them untied. Vondu keeps a close eye on the entrance to the grinding room, making sure the brothers are kept at bay.

As he watches, he hears another few clangs.

“Damn it!” Exclaims one brother. “Where the hell is that rat!?”

Hoonis struggles a bit to get the Hunters untied. “…It’s a tight knot.” He says.

Hoonis continues to pry at the knot until it eventually comes loose. The Hunters quickly begin to plummet. Before they can hit the grinder, floating hands hover from Vondu’s coat, barely catching them, before plopping them onto the ground.

The thud is louder than expected.

…But no one seems to notice.

Vondu sets Hoonis down and the two pick up the unconscious Hunters. Vondu takes Elain, Hoonis takes Dento. They slowly return to the freezer and glance around as they reenter.

The coast is clear.

Vondu then sets Elain to the side. He moves back and unravels his coat, revealing multiple guns underneath. He quickly shoots at the metal door, causing it to fly off its hinges.

Vondu hastily grabs hold of Elain and he and Hoonis sprint forward. Hoonis lags behind a bit, as Dento is head to carry. He isn’t exactly strong.

As they approach the exit, Vondu’s floating hands open up his coat. His guns begin shooting at the door, completely breaking it.

As the duo finally reaches the exit, they realize something…

…Where’s Thlouretta…?

She was supposed to run out with them when she heard the gun shots…

“Stop right there, meat thieves.” Demands a voice.

Vondu and Hoonis turn.

They see the Hot Dog Brothers, along with Thlouretta, who is caught in a brother’s grip.

“I’m sorry.” Says Thlouretta. “I wasn’t very quick on my feet.”

“You give us back the Bounty Hunters, we let you all go, including your little rat friend.” Says one brother. “You don’t, we will do everything in our power to get you on our menu. You got that?”

“What’s it gonna be?” The other brother asks in a teasing tone.

Vondu scrambles to think of something… he can’t just shoot at them, he could get Thlouretta killed…

…Suddenly, gun shots are heard.

Two separate bullets go through each of the brothers’ heads. They fall to the ground, so does Thlourertta, although she’s left unharmed.

Hoonis and Vondu turn back.

They see another Bounty Hunter. A small and petit star shaped man. His face… is oddly realistic. In his small hand, he’s wielding a gun.

“…Who’re you?” Hoonis asks.

The small Hunter pulls out a tiny ID. His name is Kug.

“…Hello, Kug.” Says Hoonis.

Kug doesn’t respond with a single word.

Thlouretta approaches Vondu and Hoonis. “…What about the bodies, Vondu, sir?” She asks.

Vondu turns to the actress and shakes his hand, indicating the brothers will be taken care of. Two floating hands then pull out two glass jars. That’s how he catches bounties when they’re struck down.

Pairs of free hands hover to the bounties and shove them in the jars. The hands float back to Vondu.

Thlouretta doesn’t question it. She isn’t sure if she wants to know the purpose of the jars.

“…What about the wall?” Thlouretta asks, looking back through the shot down door.

Vondu turns. A building has been covered in bullet holes.

“I’d imagine you’ll be paying for that.” Says Hoonis.

Vondu turns to the show host and gives him a thumbs up with a free hand. He will be paying.

“And them?” Thlouretta asks, referring to the people he and Hoonis are holding. “Are they alright?”

“…I’d imagine they’re fine.” Says Hoonis. “They were likely drugged too. They’ll wake up, I bet.”

Just as he says that, Dento appears to slowly be coming to, moving slightly.

“Oh!” Says Hoonis. “See? I was right!”

Dento, aggravated, puts his hand up to Hoonis’ face, as of to shut him up. He’s groggy.

“…Sorry.” Says Hoonis. Dento doesn’t really respond, and instead leans his head against Hoonis’ chest tiredly.

Hoonis turns to face Vondu. “Is Elain okay?” He asks.

Vondu looks to the young Bounty Hunter. She doesn’t seem to be waking up yet.

…Until she lifts her head up a bit. She tilts her head to Vondu and looks at him. It’s hard for her to focus, as she’s just woken up. A free hand then flies out of Vondu’s coat and places Elain’s fedora on her head.

“…Good, she’s okay.” Says Hoonis.

“I apologize for suddenly butting in, but,” Thlouretta begins. “Hoonis, right? Why were you looking for me? You never got to finish your question.”

“Oh!” Says Hoonis. “Do you remember a man by the name of Darles Nemeni?”

As Thlouretta processes the question, and her eyes light up. “Oh, Darles?” She asks. “I haven’t heard that name in years! Has he been found yet!?” She asks excitedly.

“…No, that’s why we were trying to look for you.” Says Hoonis. “My companions, Elain and Dento, and I, wanted to see if you knew anything about Darles to see if it would help us get anywhere.”

“Oh…” Says Thlouretta, disappointed. “I thought you had found him… But, I can hopefully help you find your way to him! I’d be glad to help! I could let you lot walk home with me, then we can talk.”

“Great!” Says Hoonis. He turns to Vondu. “I can carry Dento if he wishes, can Elain stand?”

Vondu tries to set Elain down. Although still groggy, she’s able to balance. Dento looks up to Hoonis, he wants to be put down. Hoonis sets the man down, allowing him to slowly balance himself.

“And what about you, Vondu?” Hoonis asks.

Vondu points to the jars. The bounties need to be taken care of. So does the shop. He and Kug will take care of the matter.

“Ah, I see.” Says Hoonis. “We’ll be heading off now. I wish you two well!”

Hoonis and the other Bounty Hunters take their leave. Thlouretta eventually begins to lead. Vondu waves a bit as the quartet heads off.

—

Thlouretta has lead the trio to her small home just outside the Pink City. Each of them sit at a small wooden table.

“Okay.” Says Hoonis sternly. “Tell us, what do you know about Darles?”

“…Oh, a lot.” Says Thlouretta. “Or, at least, what may be important.”

Thlouretta prepares to monologue. “Darles wasn’t anywhere near like he was when he went missing.” Says Thlouretta. “He was kind, caring. Charming even… it wasn’t until we started working on Darly Boxman that he started to lose it…”

“Really?” Hoonis asks.

“Yes.” Says Thlouretta. “…Oh, gee, it was so odd… the way he acted… he’d occasionally stare into space during presentations or filming. He’d just pause and… stare. He’d even have… episodes…”

“…Episodes?” Hoonis questions. The Bounty Hunters lean in, wanting to listen.

Thlouretta nods. “They didn’t happen often, but there were times where he’d just… snap.” She says. “It wasn’t like him at all. Nothing he did down the show’s run… it just wasn’t the Darles I knew…”

“…Anything else?” Hoonis asks.

“…He spoke of these Gods whenever he’d space out.” Says Thlouretta. “Oh, jeepers— something about eyes? Elders? I can only recall one time I actually saw them… they— they were just there when a wall fell—.”

“Those beings staring him down?” Hoonis asks. “I remember that episode clearly.”

“Yes! Those!” Says Thlouretta. “…No one remembered seeing them before we started filming that day. I tried to ask Darles about them, but he didn’t want to say. He avoided any question involving them… that wasn’t even our darkest moment in the show… As it went on, the episodes got progressively more disturbing. When he’d write, we’d hear him mutter things about Gods and other things that just… didn’t make sense to any of us. We were all worried for him. Especially on the night he went missing.”

As Thlouretta finishes, Elain remembers something…

…The Elders…

“How was he then?” Hoonis asks.

“He— he just didn’t look well. He looked exhausted.” Says Thlouretta. “We decided to check on him that night, but only his daughter opened the door. We her asked where he was, and she didn’t know… she didn’t even seem all that dismayed… we scoured his home, but never found him. Not a single trace of him. No one knew where he went. I tried giving him a call as a last ditch effort, but no answer… not only were we stressed about him being missing, though. We had an episode to shoot that next day and we were missing our lead. We eventually ended up canceling the show, since it seemed like Darles wasn’t going to show up.”

Before Hoonis can speak again, Elain gets up from her seat to get everyone’s attention.

“Do you have something to say?” Thlouretta asks.

Elain then spots a stack of papers on a desk beside the small kitchen. She takes a sheet and the pencil nearby the stack and begins to write something. She shows it to Thlouretta.

The sheet reads: I think I’ve seen those Gods you’re talking about.

“…Really?” Thlouretta asks.

Hoonis and Dento rise from their seats to take a peek at the writing. Hoonis looks to Elain, slightly shocked.

“…How?” Is all Hoonis can muster.

Elain then begins to draw on the sheet. Long, shadowy pillars covered in eyes. She shows off the drawing.

“…I’m sorry, but those don’t look anything like the ones I saw.” Says Thlouretta.

“I can draw what they looked like.” Says Hoonis. He takes the pencil from Elain and begins to draw what he and Thlouretta had seen. Long, shadowy creatures with one pair of eyes.

“Yes!” Says Thlouretta. “That’s it!”

“…Could he have been taken by these… beings?” Hoonis questions.

“…O-oh, dear…” Says Thlouretta. “If he was… oh, poor Darles…”

“If he was taken by these creatures…” Hoonis begins. “How do we get to them…?”

…Elain may have a way…

…No. No, no, no… don’t think about it…

Dento looks to Elain, slightly concerned.

Are you okay?

You’ll be fine. You’re going to be okay… all that Elain wants to think.

She nods.

I’ll be okay.

I’ll be fine.

“Do either of you have a way we could find these beings?” Hoonis asks.

The Hunters shake theirs heads. No.

“…They may exist outside of our own existence.” Says Thlouretta. “…Is travel like that even a thing?”

“…I’m not sure.” Says Hoonis. “We could try to find some way to escape this plane.”

“…Maybe. It’s worth a shot.” Says Thlouretta. “…I just want to see Darles again. It’s been ages… I miss him.”

Dento walks up to Thlouretta and pats her shoulder, promising that they’ll find Darles and get him back.

“…Thanks. I very much appreciate it.” Says Thlouretta.

“I suppose we best be on our way now.” Says Hoonis. “We’ve got unfathomable and all powerful nightmares to find!”

Thlouretta chuckles a bit… Hoonis’ nature reminds her of Darles. “I wish you three luck in finding him.” She says. “Safe travels!”

“You have a good night, Miss Gudds!” Says Hoonis as the trio steps to the exit.

“I don’t mind being called Thlouretta.” Says Thlouretta as she approaches the exit to let the trio go. “And you too!”

Thlouretta watches as the trio sets out. She looks up to the sky, hoping a certain someone may hear her…

“…Please be okay, Darles…” Says Thlouretta.

…She can’t help but think he’s somewhere up there, wanting to come back down, but being unable to. The powers that be holding him up above her like a cat toy.

He’s there.

…Somewhere...

- END -

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