#i know nothing about them minus bits and pieces

[lordprettyflackotara]

noise || hoody

SMUT. MINORS DNI. 18+. remember when i talked about this hoody fic 509 years ago? yeah here it is. also yeS i am aware masky & hoody belong to marble hornets this is the only time im going to address this💀 we are in 2024 in this fandom WE KNOW. anyways enjoy !! <3

If there was anything you could’ve changed about your life, you had a particular decision in mind.

Being a desperate college student for cash, babysitting and dog walking wasn’t paying the off the debt you were accumulating.

You had scoured Craigslist, confident that there would be an odd job you’d be able to accomplish for quick cash.

Looking back you wish you had known quick cash wouldn’t come easy.

A posting offering $5k a week fell into your lap about a week later. The details seemed easy enough. The ability to clean an older mansion, whilst keeping the identities of the multiple infamous residents that resided there a secret seemed like a piece of cake.

What the posting didn’t list, was that the infamous residents were unhinged killers. Some of which you couldn’t even categorize as human.

It also didn’t list that your position would be residing in the mansion, permanently.

Being a maid in the Slenderman mansion was, in lack of better words: fucking terrifying.

The residents operated at odd hours. No matter what time you cleaned, you always received the displeasure of running into someone.

The longer you stayed, the longer paranoia began to settle in. Ben Drowned, the poster of the Craigslist ad, was a perv. You learned to stray away from electronic devices he could peep his head through. Jeff the killer, one of the most unhinged, had a short temper. He was one of the first ones to opt out of having his room cleaned by you, a decision you silently praised after walking by and seeing how filthy it was.

The next to opt out with a demonic creature named Eyeless Jack, one who specifically requested you stay out of his medical lab. Given all of the blood and goop you had mopped up at this point, a fear of being eaten led you to offering to clean it regardless. EJ knew you wouldn’t be able to handle it, given his ‘hobbies’ were the most gore filled of the mansions residents. It didn’t surprise him when you left the lab green, puking immediately in a bucket he had placed beside the door for you.

The other members whose names you were obligated to memorize, Jane, Clockwork, Jason the something maker, all were rarely home. You learned to steer clear of Jason’s workshop, the dolls he made often speaking to you as if they had souls. The only three other residents who lived in the mansion full time (minus its owner), were what you learned to be proxies. These proxies, two of them at least, seemed to be human just like you.

Ticci Toby’s mortality was still up in the air for you. He once had tripped and fallen after you had mopped the floors, landing on the marble face first. He got up like nothing happened, giggling to himself about ‘how wet you made the floor’. After observing him throw axes in the training room, you decided to steer clear of him.

Masky seemed to be the trio’s leader, his face consistently hidden behind a doll resembling mask. He avoided you like the plague, skipping the formalities and acting as if you didn’t exist. You never asked questions, not knowing how long anyone had truly been here. But Masky in particular seemed a bit older than everyone, when you accidentally stumbled upon him coming home late one night from a mission. His nose was trailing blood, his mask broken in half. You ensured to avoid eye contact, but extended a wet washcloth to him so he could attend to his nose.

After that your dynamic remained the same for the most part. Except when both of you occupied a room together, neither of you made an effort to beeline to the door.

Hoody was the last proxy, the one that made you more at ease than the others. Hoody had spoken a grand total of maybe ten words to you, introducing himself and Masky before dashing out of the back door. The only time you really saw him was when you cleaned his room, the man doing a poor job of pretending to read magazines while you cleaned. Other than that, you only caught glimpses of the proxies when they came home in the late hours of the night from missions.

Most of the time they were soaked in blood. In a couple of odd occasions you had to assist them in carrying one another up to Eyeless Jack’s medical lab. You couldn’t figure out why the proxies were here, two humans not seeming to fit in with the rest of misfits that resided here. You had no idea soon enough you’d be up close and personal.

Late night was when you preferred to clean, most of the killers away from the mansion and out hunting. The existence of the residents here only existed because of their dedication to keep their identities a secret. Night time was the perfect cover, for them and for you. You were leaning over the kitchen sink, scrubbing at a particular stubborn pot when you heard the back door open. You tried very hard not to stare, not wanting to gain unwanted attention.

You glanced up briefly, catching a glance of Toby’s and Masky’s familiar figures as they trudged upstairs. “He cost us that fucking mission, Slender’s gonna be so pissed off,” Masky growled, rounding the corner of the kitchen. Toby trailed behind him, an axe dripping blood slung over his shoulder. “Y-yeah, what w-w-was he thinking?!” Toby exclaimed, his stuttering something you had grown accustomed to. You noted Hoody’s absence, your eyebrows raising as you returned your gaze to the pot.

The sound of doors slamming echoed through out the other wise quiet mansion, the silence fulfilling you with some sort of ease. It didn’t take long for the final proxy to stumble into frame, his hand cupping his face. You weren’t forbidden from interacting with the mansions residents, your urge to help sweeping over you. Hoody was awkwardly stumbling, immediately leaning onto you for support as you helped him stay standing.

“I got it,” He huffed. His usual ski mask was half raised, the bottom half of his face revealed to you for the first time. His chin and upper lip had surprisingly clean cut facial hair, kept to a minimum. You guided him around the counter, helping him sit onto the kitchen counter by the sink. Hastily he shoved his yellow hood off of his head, yanking the ski mask off with it. You were surprised a normal human being stared back at you, a large gash sliced across his cheek.

“Jesus Christ,” You muttered. You grabbed a clean wash cloth, running it under cold water. “Didnt ask for your commentary doll,” Hoody said dryly. You swallowed, wringing out the excess water. You could’ve done what you did with Masky, handing him the washcloth and wishing him a silent farewell. But instead you didn’t. “Sorry,” You mumbled. You craved human contact, any kind of human contact. Brushing off your skirt you stepped in between his legs, leaning forward.

You were careful to avoid eye contact, focusing on dabbing the wound. Hoody silently winched under the feeling, inhaling through his teeth. As gently as you could you dabbed away the blood. “Do you want me to get EJ?” You asked. Hoody’s face was stone cold, from what you could see out of the corner of your eye anyways. “Dont bother, i’m sure he’s sick of patching us up all the time,” He grumbled. The wound didn’t look deep, just very long. Thankfully most of the blood was gone, the rest of his face covered in specs of dry blood (that you presumed to not be his) and dirt.

Turning on the sink you washed out the washcloth, the crimson paint drifting off down the drain with the water. You then returned to Hoody, wiping off his face. You weren’t sure what compelled you to be so compassionate, Hoody’s eyes fluttering shut. He took a deep breath, his shoulders seemingly relaxing. You were gentle of course, not wanting to piss the killer in front of you off. But even Hoody knew your action wasn’t callous.

Once you were done you awkwardly stepped aside, putting the rag in the sink. “You want a cig?” Hoody asked. He dug in his jeans, pulling out a beat up cigarette box. “Is this your way of showing gratitude?” You asked. The man in front of you smiled, extending you the box. “This right here is the only kind of buzz you’re getting around here doll,” He explained, allowing himself to half smile. You had never smoked a cigarette before, nor had you really planned on it. Not like it mattered now.

You put one to your lips like people did in movies, watching Hoody do the same. He pulled out a lighter, flicking it and igniting the end of his cigarette. You leaned forward, watching Hoody attempt to flick the lighter again. The flame refused to ignite, the sight of small sparks making him sigh. “Masky always takes the good lighters,” He muttered. He inhaled his cigarette, blowing the smoke to the right. You found the gesture of attempting to not violate you with smoke a little sweet.

“Well I appreciate the offer. I’ve never smoked a cigarette anyways,” You admit. Hoody shook his head. “That just won’t do then. Put it to your lips and stay still,” He ordered. You did as instructed, watching him lean closer to you. His fingers went under your chin, keeping your head held high. You felt your face beginning to burn, the end of his cigarette lighting yours as you inhaled. You both avoided each others gazes, until the second he began to back away.

For a brief moment you shared eye contact, searching each other’s eyes. For what? You didn’t know. You properly inhaled, coughing immediately. “You guys like this stuff?” You asked in between coughs, continuing to choke. Hoody nonchalantly took another drag of his, watching you struggle. “It’ll grow on you, trust me. I didn’t like it at first either,” He confessed. Once you regained strength in your lungs you properly stood up. Hoody remained seated on the kitchen counter, with you standing beside him.

“How long have you been here?” You asked curiously. You were stepping over a hundred boundaries, ones you could die for if you stepped over the line too far. “A while,” Hoody answered honestly. You took another drag of your cigarette, the taste of tobacco growing on you. “How long are you going to be here?” Hoody countered. You exhaled, glancing back at the proxy. He had exhaled through his nose, boldly making eye contact with you.

“A while.”

You found the courage to turn around, facing him fully. “You aren’t lonely?” You asked. Hoody gave you a smile, tossing the bud of his cigarette into the nearby trashcan. “I am, are you?” He asked curiously. You followed his lead, tossing the bud of the cigarette into the trashcan. If it set the kitchen on fire, it wouldn’t be the worst thing to happen. “Yeah I am,” You admit. Hoody slid off of the counter, his tall height towering over you.

“Do you uh, wanna change that?” He asked. For a killer who had a victims blood splattered across his face moments ago, he seemed so awkward. You wondered how long it had been since he had been with a woman. How long would it be before you could be with a man again? “Please,” You sighed. Hoody kissed you just as rough as you expected, both of you melting into the other. Both of you were undeniably needy, touch depraved and lonely. You were sure this was forbidden for both of you but as his tongue slid into your mouth, you just couldn’t find it within yourself to care.

“Call me Brian but only when it’s us, okay? Thats not who I am anymore but that’s who I want to be with you, okay?” Hoody asked. You nodded, the normal name bringing your comfort. Brian’s hand snaked down your waist, squeezing and kneading at the flesh of your ass. You whimpered into his mouth, the sound only making him harder. There was no telling how much longer you’d be around, the residents of the mansion unhinged enough to snap at any moment.

You couldn’t fully undress here and going upstairs was out of the question. “This has to be quick, we can’t get caught,” You whispered. Brian nodded, slipping his hand up your skirt. He rubbed against your wet cunt, your panties preventing any further stimulation. Brian had zero control over his life but he did right here, right now. You had no control over yours either, the decision to fuck each other to release steam the only free will decision either of you could make. You palmed him through his jeans, his cock practically busting through the fabric.

He guided you to the counter, grabbing the sides of your panties and yanking them down to your ankles. He shoved them into his pocket for what you thought to be safe temporary keeping. But Brian had other ideas.

“Fuck, please, wanna feel you Brian,” You whispered, trying hard to not groan loudly. Brian quickly undid his belt bringing his lips back to yours. It had been so long since he had kissed anyone, your soft lips driving him mad. It wasn’t long before his cock was at your entrance, awkwardly shuffling with his jeans at his ankles. He fell a bit backwards, causing you to laugh. “Fucking hell, sorry-” He began apologizing. You giggled, hopping off of the counter.

You brought him fully to the ground, pushing his back against the oven. “This might work better,” You replied, lowering yourself down onto his cock. Brian’s cock felt like heaven, your mouth falling open. Both of you let out a sigh of relief. You had no way to masturbate, no way to possibly release the stressful tension building inside of you. As you pressed your forehead against Brian’s, you realized that this was what you got. This was your outlet.

Brian’s gloved hands met your waist, helping you roll your hips. You let out a loud groan, one of his hands flying to your mouth. “Shh, you can’t make any noise,” Brian warned, your inability to stay composed only making him more hot and bothered. He took control, guiding your hips to ride him at a pace that worked for both of you. You were as wet as a virgin, your body yearning for more as Brian abused your g spot. Your sinful moans were muffled by his gloved hand, his other attempting to guide you.

He brought himself close to your ear. “If you wanna get off, you’re gonna have to ride me by yourself mkay? Do that and i’ll play with that pretty clit of yours doll,” He huffed, trying to control his own noises. You nodded yes profusely, trying to concentrate on grinding your hips against his. With his spare hand he found your clit, drawing sloppy circles around it. For a brief moment he was worried about his ‘skills’ not having slept with a woman in years. Whether he was good or bad at it, you didn’t appear to give a shit. You were still a panting mess, your hair sticking to your forehead from sweat.

Your walls clenched tighter around Brian as you felt yourself closer to euphoria, your eyes fluttering shut. With your forehead pressed to his you pawed at his hoodie, grabbing handfuls as your orgasm washed over you. Your sinful noises were muted by Brian’s hand, the muffled sounds music to his ears that he had made you feel that good. Your walls fluttering around him triggered his own orgasm, his cum flooding inside of you. He dropped his hand from your mouth, both of you taking a moment to breathe.

In a moment of true loneliness you leaned against Brian’s shoulder, ignoring the faint smell of dried blood and sweat. Unsurely Brian stroked your hair, trying to remember if that was comforting or not. He licked his dry lips, a bold question on the tip of his tongue.

“You wanna share a cigarette again tomorrow?”

[ellecdc]

Mother, im sitting here at 4am, eating mini easter eggs and ive had tge most brilliant idea!! (Inspired by @inkdrinkerworld 's fic)

Okay so, poly!moonwater and readers been having trouble sleeping due to tensions/problems with her pureblood family. As a result shes been taking more naps, but they arent restful. So reader were napping in Rems bed (the dungeons were too cold) but after a fitful 30 minutes she gets up groggy, sleep deprived and beyond frustrated. She stumbles her way down to the common room, pin point Sirius lounging across the couch and promptly throws herself down to cuddle with him and continue her nap. Everyone (minus Siri) is shook. Jamie even asks if she got the wrong person because Reggie was sitting over there (in which he got a one eyed death glare before she burrowed into Siris chest and passed out).

Now, what everybody else didnt know was that Siri had more or less adopted reader as his own (she remined him so much of Reggie, being her big brother was 2nd nature). And while Barty was her person, he was a little too crazy to be comforting in this situation ("y/n, i'll get rid of them for you. Its not hard to do so" "Barty, no."). And of course Siri nows how bad their kind of familys are so he'd been taking care of reader on the down low as an older brother would.

Bonus if Reggie then decides that looks warm and fuzzy and wants Siri cuddles too so he joins ( it took him so long to get to a point where he could let himself be vunerable enough to openly allow Siri to take care of him 😭)

aweeee poor reader. this ended up being way more serious than I thought it would be? like it's not funny at all, there's no humour (which feels odd to me, usually I can throw some jokes or banter in there) but plenty of hurt comfort???.......idk, I can't tell if this is any good, it feels very different from my usual pieces

poly!moonwater x fem!reader whose family sucks (but it's very Sirius-centric)

CW: mentions of insomnia, mentions of abusive families, making fun of only children (sorry), hurt/comfort

You were miserable to say the least; you couldn’t remember when the last time you had a restful sleep was, and nothing you did seemed to help.

The closer it got to the Winter Holidays, the more your mind seemed to spiral. Every time you began to relax, your heart pounded as if you’d accidentally leaned too far back in your chair, reminding you of your upcoming visit home. Every time you closed your eyes, you were bombarded with images of angry faces and violent curses being shot at you.

The Slytherin dungeons were too cold, and every time you found your way into Regulus’ dorm, Barty insisted on butting in, and though you appreciated his support, you couldn’t handle his threats promises to burn down your home with your parents in it. 

Remus and Regulus both suggested you perhaps talk to Madame Pomfrey about getting some dreamless sleep or sleeping draught, but you were too embarrassed to admit to your two overprotective boyfriends that you’ve used them so frequently during your life for this very reason that they had lost all efficacy. 

It had gotten to the point that you managed to get the most sleep in the library bent over the table with your face on your book whilst Remus and Regulus did their work (and sometimes yours), and that honestly left you feeling more painfully tired than you had been before your nap.

So, you were nearly falling asleep at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall over your chicken and roast potatoes when Remus gently nudged you and suggested you go lie down for a bit and you wanted to weep into your potatoes which was only slightly less embarrassing than sleeping in them, causing him and Regulus to bring you up to Gryffindor tower.

You’d kicked them both out of the Marauders’ dorm room after some time – Remus for snoring and Regulus because the sound of him turning the pages of his book was distracting you. He promised to stop reading, but then he breathed too loudly and you started crying.

You were overtired, emotional, and running on fumes.

You’d counted puffskeins, you’d had a warm glass of milk, you’d taken off articles of clothing and reconfigured your outfit numerous times (which was currently Remus’ jumper and no pants), and you’d tried every position imaginable to no avail. 

You think you might have perhaps gotten five minutes of sleep before you woke up with a start, a barely repressed scream grating through your teeth.

Feeling disturbingly weepy and no less groggy from your horrid sleep, you pulled on a pair of your sweatpants and grabbed the throw blanket from the end Remus’ bed before trudging down the stairs to the common room.

“You should have seen the look on Filch’s face- oh! Hi Y/N!” James called as you made your way over to the three-seater and stood over the black-haired boy currently occupying it.

“Oh, Trouble.” He cooed sympathetically at you before kicking his feet out, laying back, and opening his arms for you to join him. You quickly climbed on top of him, and he tucked you in between the back of the sofa and his side, bending your knee so that your thigh rested on top of his, and pulled the blanket over the two of you.

You let out a shaky sigh and felt the first few tears fall from your eyes and onto Sirius’ chest.

“Uhm...” James said loudly, looking over to both Regulus and Remus cuddled in a large plush chair from his place on the loveseat with Lily like ‘are you seeing this right now?’. “I think you’ve got the wrong wizard there, L/N.” He said with a nervous laugh.

“No, she’s quite alright.” Sirius gritted back at him, looking far more severe than James thought the situation called for as he rubbed his hand consolingly up and down your arm. 

James looked to your boyfriends, his face clearly asking all the questions that his mouth wasn’t.

“He helps, sometimes.” Regulus admitted, not looking particularly happy that you chose his brother over him, but not nearly as murderous as James figured he might look if he’d found Lily snuggled up like that with some other bloke. And it appeared as though the look of heartbreak on Remus’ face was caused more by your current sorry state and less about your current cuddle partner.

“But...your brother?” James asked, still befuddled over this development. “Doesn’t she usually go to Junior for things like this?”

Sirius scoffed. “Junior’s solution to almost anything is fire or murder.”

“Or both.” You whimpered quietly, causing Sirius to tighten his arm around you and bring his other hand up to continue stroking your arm.

“Besides, Barty’s an only child.” Regulus said flippantly.

“What’s that got to do with it?” James asked, slightly offended at the insinuation that anything may be wrong with him on account of his only child-ness. 

Regulus’ irritable demeanor over Sirius usurping you was quickly replaced by a cocky smirk at getting under James’ skin.

“Let me ask you this, Potter: last summer when Lily returned your letters unopened and called you an arrogant toerag after saying she’d rather date the giant squid, whose arms did you cry into?”

“He didn’t cry.” Lily laughed at the same time as James answered “Sirius’” without any hesitation.

“What?” Lily asked, looking slightly horrified that she may have actually hurt James’ feelings.

“Oh, all the time, every time, actually.” James said readily. 

“He got snot on so many of my favourite band-tee’s, Red. As a matter of fact, I expect retribution.” Sirius commented.

“And why do you think you cried into Sirius’ arms?” Regulus continued.

“Well...because he’s my best mate.” James said simply.

“You may think that’s the reason, but you’re wrong. It’s because Sirius is an older brother.”

James scoffed at that. “Please, that has nothing to do with it!”

“Have you ever cried in Remus’ arms?”

“No, but-”

“Pettigrew’s?”

James grimaced but answered honestly. “No.”

“No. Because they’re not older brothers.” Regulus said definitively.

“That actually makes sense...” Lily mused aloud. 

“You say that like you’re surprised, Evans. I know you’re not used to good idea’s coming out of men’s mouths, but I do assure you it happens more frequently than you might imagine.” Regulus taunted, earning him a pillow being hurled at his head. 

Much to James’ chagrin, his seeker reflexes caught the pillow before it made impact with his face. 

“Tosser.” James grumbled. 

“Would you guys shut up.” Sirius whispered, causing everyone to look over at you. 

Regulus couldn’t even find it in him to be miffed when he saw you sleeping what looked to be quite peacefully in Sirius’ arms. Your eyes were slightly swollen from your tears, and he could see the tracks they had left on your cheeks and over the bridge of your nose, but you looked so content. 

“So... all big brothers know how to do that?” James asked incredulously.

“I doubt it.” Sirius commented quietly.

“Only ones who know what it’s like to live in a Pureblood hellscape and needed to share his bed with his younger brother who was too scared to sleep on his own for years.” Regulus added quietly, staring unseeingly towards you and Sirius. Remus pulled Regulus tighter into his side and began rubbing his arm consolingly.

Suddenly, things started to make a little more sense to James. 

“I’ll write to mum.” James stated, causing both brothers, Lily, and Remus to look at him bemusedly.

“About what?” Remus asked finally.

“Y/N staying with us.” James said simply.

Regulus opened his mouth ready to argue; to argue that James didn’t have to and that he already took in both Sirius and Regulus. James didn’t owe Regulus anything. 

But Sirius spoke first.

“She should be with her big brother, Reggie.” Sirius said, shooting him an encouraging smile and wink.

And seeing how your breathing had fallen even with your mouth slightly ajar as you clutched to the fabric of Sirius’ jumper like it was a lifeline, who was Regulus to argue?

[thrillered]

imagine reader and coworker/friend/crush Spencer and you guys are having lunch out of the office and run into your ex who is like a tall shayne basically and spencer gets a bit jealous/insecure and starts avoiding you a bit and you think you did something wrong

idk man I'm not a writer but you know what I mean?

The Ex | Spencer Agnew x Reader

I hope you like it!

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“I don’t know what to get.” You sighed, analyzing the menu. 

“Honestly I haven't had something I didn’t like.” Courtney, who was sitting across from you, said. 

“Well that's reassuring.” You replied, “What are you getting Spence?” You asked, turning your head to look at your friend beside you. 

Some of your friends and coworkers decided to go out for lunch today, taking advantage of the cool weather since it’s been so humid and hot the past week. The group had taken Courtneys suggestion and now you were sitting outside on a beautiful patio, surrounded by your friends. 

Spencer sat to your left, like always. Amanda and Angela were sitting on the other side of Spencer, Shayne and Courtney mirrored you and Spencer with Chanse next to them. 

“I’m not totally sure. Do we wanna both order something and split both?” Spencer asked. 

“That’s perfect.” You replied, “Everything sounds good. I don't think I’d be able to choose just one anyway.” 

Your waiter had brought out your drinks and a few appetizers that Courtney and Shayne insisted on everyone trying. You and Spencer were currently splitting the last piece of bread from the basket, arguing over which half was bigger. 

“Oh my god Y/N?” You heard a familiar voice ask. You turned, realizing you recognized the voice because stood a few yards away was your ex. You froze for a moment. You hadn’t seen him in at least three years. The last time being at a mutual friends going away party when they moved to Europe. 

“Shaun.. Hey..” You replied, still confused, standing to face him. 

“God it’s been a minute, huh?” Shaun asked, giving you a friendly hug that you reciprocated. 

“What, like two? Three? years?” You asked. 

“I think so! You look good, new hair? I like it.” He smiled.

“Well thank you. You look good too.” You responded, noticing how much muscle he had gained. He had always been kinda a gym rat but wasn’t into massive muscle growth when you were together. 

Your food came while you were talking, giving Shaun the notice to leave. “I don’t want to keep you from your lunch. Is that plate yours?” He asked, pointing to your order. You nodded. “Taste hasn’t changed then.” He remarked before giving you a half hug and walking away. 

You sat back down, joining your friends, only to be met with amused stares. “What?” You asked, placing your napkin back in your lap. 

“Who was that hunk?” Chanse asked. 

“That’s just Shaun.” You replied casually, beginning to half your meal for Spencer. 

“Well clearly there was something there.” Spencer huffed under his breath. 

“What was that?” 

“Nothing, it’s just clearly you had history with this Shaun.” He replied, not looking at you as he portioned part of his food to you. 

“We used to date.” You admitted, earning a chorus of teases from the table, minus Spencer. “It was like three years ago!” 

“Why’d you break up? He’s… whoo!” Amanda asked, wiggling her eyebrows at you. 

“We just didn’t work out, the feeling just stopped being there. We only dated for like 10 months.” 

Most of the lunch ended up with the group interrogating you about your relationship with Shaun. Your relationship was fine and ended amicably so there wasn’t much to say. 

You noticed that Spencer didn’t contribute much to any conversation. You tried to pass it off as him just being tired since he has been working extra hard lately. 

You and Spencer had carpooled to lunch, like you do most days. Usually your drives are filled with laughter, discussion, or singing but this time it was almost silent, save for the music playing softly.

Spencer was one of your favorite people. You and him had instantly clicked and had become good friends ever since. So his silence was unnerving. You tried to talk to him about it but he shut the conversation down and beelined it to his desk when you made it back to the office, promptly putting on his headphones. 

—

God what a fucking idiot. Spencer thought, feeling insecure about himself. He was literally jacked. Why would she be interested in me?

Spencer has liked you for a long time. He was immediately attracted to you upon meeting, he thought you were stunning and had great style. The more he got to know you the more he fell for you. He thought you had such a beautiful mind. You were so kind and generous. Not to mention you were hilarious and had a very similar humor to him. He genuinely thought you were the perfect woman. 

Your friendship had developed even further a few months ago when you spent the night at his place after a long night. While Spencer was aware of his feelings for you it was solidified that night as you were peacefully sleeping in his bed. 

He thought that your friendship was moving into more romantic territory recently but seeing your ex made him feel like he was wrong. Shaun was 6 foot 2 and had muscles larger than Shaynes. He could never compare to him. 

Deciding he would never have a chance with you he wasn’t sure how to be around you right now. Every time you laughed Spencer swore it was the most beautiful thing ever, how was he supposed to just casually be around you?

He didn’t want to ignore you but he needed to come to terms with only ever being your friend. 

—

The work day was wrapping up, almost everyone was packing their things and saying their goodbyes. Spencer still hadn’t said a word to you. He managed to evade you every time you tried to talk to him. You had filmed a video for the pit channel but you could tell your energy was low and off. Spencer had never acted like this with you and it hurt. You didn’t think you said or did anything to offend him. You were running through the day, retracing your steps to figure out what happened. 

You had breakfast with Spencer at work, had two meetings, filmed a games video– and everything was normal. Then everyone broke for lunch and you went out with the group, then you saw Shaun, then you– Then you saw Shaun. 

Shit. 

You knew Spencer was still in the office, he always stays an extra 30-45 minutes everyday. You waited a little longer, allowing most of the office to leave before you made your way to Spencer.

“Hey,” You began, easing into things. 

“Uh, hey.” He replied, quickening his packing to leave before any real conversation could begin.

“You’re so much better.” You added, not wanting him to be able to walk away. 

“I’m sorry?” He replied, confused. 

“You’re so much better than him, than Shaun.” You breathed, ready to bear your heart. 

“I- I don’t understand?” 

“You make me laugh so much and you’re so caring and- and you’re my best friend. I haven’t even thought about Shaun in years until I saw him today. You know who I do think about? You. You Spencer. I think about you everyday.” You finished, breathless. Spencer didn’t say anything, he just stared at you. “Please say something.” 

“I’m such an idiot aren’t I?” He asked finally. You didn’t say you wanted him explicitly but Spencer could hear it, he knew you so well. 

“The biggest I know.” You laughed, “But I love you for it.” 

He pulled you into a hug. This was what you loved, Spencer hugged you like you were the most valuable thing on Earth, he held you like you would disappear, he always did and said everything right. 

“Please don’t avoid me like that again.” You mumbled into his shoulder. 

“Never again.” He promised, squeezing you a little tighter before pulling away, leaving his hands resting on your hips. “Come over tonight?” 

“I would love that.” You smiled, placing a kiss on his cheek.

[edgeray]

Peruere is a Person.

Inspired by my blurb series, "Arlecchino is a Person."

A/N - I did not write this. This was written by my wonderful friend @myfriendscallmebun. However, she didn't want to post it on her blog, so I'm posting it for her. All I did was some minor editing a little bit but almost every single word (minus like 2 or 3 words) was written by her. Every single like, comment, or reblog on this post is for her. I claim no ownership over this piece.

Arlecchino is not a person.

The Knave, Arlecchino, Father of the House of the Hearth, Fourth of the Eleven Fatui Harbingers is not a person: she is a personification of lies and deceit spread amongst the populace, a conglomeration of exaggerated half-truths spread by veteran Fatui to scare the new recruits. Made of misconceptions and inferred information that paints a picture of a crazed and ruthless assassin–a wolf in sheep's clothing in essence; a bloodthirsty and manipulative patriarch whose tongue draws as much blood as the blade she so rarely uses. 

She’s a woman whose title alone carries a reputation that paralyzes opponents who catch just a whisper of her name. A woman whose flames scorch at the heels of those who were frozen in place by her ice cold presence alone. Arlecchino is a name that has people moving aside to let her pass by, a name that mothers hear and pull their children back into the houses from. She’s everything they say: a boogeyman–an icy breath you feel down your neck in your last waking moments, the shadows lurking around corners when you least expect; the thin veneer of an aloof diplomat that barely conceals the true mania beneath its surface. Arlecchino is at once everything she is made out to be, and nothing at all. Because Arlecchino is not a person, nor has she ever been.

Peruere is a person. She’s a woman, about 30 years old and 5’7”, although you wouldn’t realize it because she’s always wearing heels. She’s a woman who took on a title and responsibility far too young, a woman who was thrust into adulthood and the brutal world of the Fatui too early. She’s a woman who keeps few friends, and keeps her own children at an arm's length. She’s someone who has seen those around her–friend, ally, foe, and bystanders–be scorched and burned away to ash by her own hands. 

She’s someone who keeps her kids on a tight leash and strict discipline regiment, but the leash she keeps on herself is tighter. She allows her children to reprieve from the rules every now and then–turning a blind eye when they take a cookie before dinner, allowing them to keep a lizard they found as a pet for a while–but she does not afford herself the same. She’s harsh on herself, keeping every moment of her day regimented and as strict as the schedule she had growing up. Her children will live and experience far better than what she had, but she will still silently carry the burden of that time with her. 

Peruere is a person who is willing to look Dottore in the eyes–a man who she has watched take away what remaining, broken and mangled siblings she had, and knew full well what would be happening to them once they left with him- she is willing to look him in the eyes and allow him to experiment with her, with the balemoon bloodfire that curses her veins, on the hope that something good may come of it, something that can help her children.

She’s a woman who loves her kids, no matter how she can’t seem to show it. She’s a woman whose affection lies in the unspoken words behind what she actually says. 

“You’re home late.” (“I was worried about you.”) 

“Impulsiveness leads to failure.” (“I don’t want to see you get hurt.”)

“Your defense was weak, I know I’ve taught you better.” (“I cannot bear to lose another child out in the field. Please.”) 

Peruere is a woman who in some deep, dark part of her chest that she doesn’t like to acknowledge, allows herself to yearn for normality. She stares out her windows at the crowds of pedestrians and citizens making their way through the streets of Fontaine, “People-watching is a rather pleasant activity, in my opinion.” (“I would join them, if they would allow me.”) 

Peruere is a person who allows others to dictate what she should be–she allows the rumors and misconceptions to run freely amongst those who dare utter her name, even adding fuel to the metaphorical fire by being sure to live up to the reputation others have created for her. She allows her image to be muddy, full of contradictions and mistruths, and more than some mixing-ins of her predecessor. “It’s beneficial,” she says. (“It’s easier to be what people expect you to be, than to be yourself.”) 

Peruere is a person, even despite her best attempts to hide it.

[shankss-magnificent-ass]

Imagine Shanks finding out you like head pats

Kind of a part two to this post

Macro: *lands where the Whitebeard and Red hair pirates have joined together to fight the marines*

You: *trying to hanging on*

Marco: *pretending like nothing happened* whew boy, that was close, those bastards almost got us.

Shanks: *runs over* Oh you're in one piece. What happened, we couldn't find you after the marines left, we thought they had taken you

Marco: (y/n) saved me *strokes you on the head* Tackled me into a tree but still.

You: ( //^ w ^///)

Whitebeard: Thanks kid, for saving my boy *also pats your head*

You: (⁠｡--ω--｡⁠)

Benn: *notices your enjoyment*

Shanks: Oi, hands off, only I'm allowed to touch them without permission!

Weeks later

You: I can't believe you, Benn, did you snoop through my stuff!

Benn: Easy there, *gently ruffles your hair* I wasn't snooping, I was looking for my sweater and couldn't find it in your closet where you said it was, so I looked around. I didn't go through anywhere besides your closet, and dresser, minus the socks and underwear drawer.

You: oh, *relaxes when you feel the warmth from his palm seep into you* Okay then.

Shanks: *who thought you would kill him* whoa, whoa, wait, you damn near bit my head off last week for even setting foot in your room. And he gets away with going through your stuff!

You: Benn's different.

Shanks: Excuse me, how's he get that privilege.

Benn: Darlin', could you go get me the compass while I deal with him? *Gestures to you to go*

You: oh, okay

Benn: *the moment you're out of ear shot* I can get away with it for a few reasons. One, you're immature, you'll go through stuff you shouldn't like their dirty hamper or under their bed.

Shanks: wait, what's under their bed.

Benn: dunno, but reason number two, is they can probably smell you after you leave. You wear way too much cologne, and it's the kind that gives them headaches after a while.

Shanks: how come neither of you mentioned that before! I would have changed my cologne and how much I wear if I had known.

Benn: shut up and let me finish, and reason number three, that I got away with it, and you didn't is I know their weakness.

Shanks: What the hell are you on about?

Benn: do you remember during the last battle, when Whitebeard thanked them for saving Marco? And how he patted their head? That's their weakness, it automatically quells them.

Shanks: I don't buy.

Benn:*sees you returning* here watch.

You: Here you go. *hands him the compass*

Benn: Thanks doll *slides his fingers through your hair and gently scratches his blunt nails over your scalp*

You: (⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

Shanks: oooh *fully intends to use this knowledge to his advantage* Makes sense, they usually like having their hair pulled.

You: *Gawks at him in horror and confusion*

Benn: *laughs at you*

List of Up-and-coming works

Support me on Kofi and Patreon

[taesanluv3r]

kim woonhak x reader

wc: 1,738

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

"what you starin' at?"

taesan's voice takes woonhak out of his trance, the boys head shaking almost comically as if to bring himself back into reality. "huh?" he says, eyes moving to look at the older guy who had taken a seat beside him on the living-room couch. "i said, what are you...staring at?" taesan's words stretch out as he finds himself looking through the younger one's perspective in search of what the boy had been looking at before.

"oh" is all he says when his gaze finally lands on her. park yn, their best-friend sungho's little sister, sitting on the other side of her family living-room laughing about something stupid her older brother had just said. "yn, huh?" taesan almost chuckles too loud, turning to look at a rather lovesick woonhak who just shamelessly nods. "so...you like her or something?" the older boy relaxes into his seat as he inquires, slender fingers simultaneously brushing out the pieces of hair that fell over his forehead. once again, woonhak just nods, not even realizing he's doing so. "but i don't really know what to do about it...she probably doesn't even like me like that" in a matter of seconds the young boy's face had gone from in-love to somber, as if his life was some terrible soap opera he'd catch his mom watching while sneaking down to grab a late night snack. taesan laughs out loud this time, ignoring the puzzled glances from the other people in the room with them as he looked his love-torn friend straight in the eye.

"let me help you out"

the kim boy is hesitant, but he figured he'd need all the help he could get anyways. "okay fine. but whatever you do, just don't tell her i like her, please?" there's a glint in his eyes, as if he were begging for his friend to show a little mercy. the other guy smirks, "of course, bro. when have i ever done you dirty like that?" the answer is countless of times, but woonhak chose to forget about his friend's menacing ways for the sake of maybe- emphasis on maybe- being with the only girl in the neighbourhood that he likes.

and so he watches nervously as the older boy gets up from the couch to walk over to where she was. he pretends to be nonchalant, telling himself it was all going to be okay, but quite frankly, he was shitting his pants right now. but what could go wrong, right?

"hey yn, guess what woonhak told me!" - "what?"

that. that's what could go wrong.

in hindsight it really wasn't that big of a deal, but in the moment he felt like the whole world had just crash landed onto his shoulders. if he wasn't shitting his pants before, he definitely is now. see, the normal person would remain calm and collected, not wanting to draw any attention to a matter that could be played off as something usual. however, the short-tempered teen boy was only a second away from exploding and in T-minus 10 seconds he had already began his outburst.

"what?! dude i told you not to say anything!"

the girl is confused, not understanding why the boy was freaking out or why taesan was minutes away from rolling on the floor laughing. "what? what is it?" yn repeated, even looking towards her older brother sungho in search for any kind of an answer, but he was just as lost as she is. "it's nothing" woonhak stutters a bit, "just forget about it" he slumps back down, the world's iciest glare emitting from his wicked eyes burning an imaginary hole right through taesan's forehead. yn groans, rolling her eyes as she stomps over to where the young boy was sitting, and arms crossed she began to plead. "please~ you know i hate- emphasis on hate- when people tell me something and then don't finish telling me! c'mon woonhak!" she whined, a pout washing over her complexion when he only shook his head in response. "i told you, it's nothing. forget about it!" she stared at him for a little longer, just enough to make sure he wasn't going to budge. "fine then!" she clicked her tongue as she spun on her heels, walking back over to sit beside taesan again.

the lovesick one watched from across the room as she pulled out her phone and began to type something. yn then tapped onto the shoulder of the guy sitting next to her, grabbing his attention and showing him whatever it was she had typed out. suspicious woonhak thought, but he decided to just be quiet for a minute before throwing another tantrum. the teen's eyebrows furrowed slightly when taesan began to whisper something into her ear, the older boy's eyes turned to look directly at him, as if to taunt the boy. almost comically, the girl's facial expressions changed every few seconds, first her eyes got wide, then she too stared right at the poor boy, and then finally, after his friend had finished whispering into her ear, she gasps all too loudly.

"seriously?!" the girl practically yelps, jumping up from her seat to add onto the dramatics. taesan just nods, his face so serious that woonhak can't tell whether he was teasing or not. yn looks shocked, but there's something off about the situation that the boy just can't pin-point. but with the way they're looking at him, almost tauntingly, it's making his blood boil and he just can't sit still anymore.

"ALRIGHT FINE! i like you, okay?!"

its quiet now. the only sounds keeping the room alive was that of sungho's solo mario kart game, and the pitter patter of the drizzling rain outside the walls of the house. yn has on the world's most blank expression on her face, as if she had just watched a swordsman take out her whole family bloodline. and that's when the teen boy realized that maybe his friend kept his promise, maybe he's the one that messed up.

"you WHAT?" sungho breaks the silence, putting down his controller as his little mii character makes it passed the finish line. "is that not what taesan whispered to you?" woonhak's voice is jittery now, like he was about to lie his way out of this awkward situation. "dude i didn't even tell her anything, i just told her what facial expressions to make just to tick you off- i'm not THAT terrible" taesan couldn't help but giggle a little, something about the look on the poor teen's face was just priceless. "oh god" was all he said before he took off, running out the front door in a matter of seconds.

yn is still in shock, drowning out the teasing laughs coming from her big brother and their friend. "what're you gonna do about it, sis?" sungho asks, tossing a spare controller over to the other guy.

"i'm gonna kiss him"

woonhak is pissed, he wanted to run off the face of the earth but the growing heavy rain had stopped him from even reaching the end of her front porch. he lets out a groan, cussing himself out as he took a seat right on the doorstep next to a creepy garden gnome. the sound of the door creaking open tensed his body up, not really wanting to face the truth however, the boy kept his head down against his knees. still not looking, he felt a presence and a familiar warmth greet the empty spot of concrete beside him and a shadow hovering over the ground below them.

"hey" she said, just in case he hadn't figured out who it was. the boy didn't respond, far too into his head and still way too embarrassed from the events that occurred prior to this to even acknowledge her. yn sighed, "hello? woonhak, you there?" growing impatient, she began to tap a finger against his back, but he just shrugged it off.

"leave me alone i'm too embarrassed to even look at you right now" he mumbles, his words muffled against the corduroy of his thrifted pants. the girl smiles softly, a light giggle escaping her lips as she watches him trying his best not to give in and look. "listen, i'd love to leave you alone and let you bask in your teen angst or whatever..." she drags out, perhaps to entice a bit of curiosity from the mellow boy.

"but how am i supposed to tell you i like you and kiss you if you won't even look at me right now?"

the way he sprung his head out so quickly, and the way his face read just about the most bewildered expression almost gave the girl a heart-attack, seriously how can a teenage boy be so cute? woonhak's eyes widen, so as to ask her if she was being serious and not pranking him right now. she just laughed, her eyes closing down into crescent shapes as she did so. "so like...you like...like? me? too?" forgive him for his tone of voice, the poor boy still felt like he was dreaming and all the sudden changes in emotion are very overwhelming. "yeah...i like..do?" she mocks, teasing him in a way that he couldn't even get upset at anymore.

his previous frustration long gone, and just about the brightest set of eyes washed over his complexion. she mirrored this, a slight sparkle in her own pretty ones as the teen pair just sat there staring at each other like they'd never see each other again.

"so..." he says, ruining the moment of peace. "hm?" she asks, head tilting and eyebrow raising slightly in question. "about that whole you kissing me thing..." his words only causes the girl to roll her eyes as far back as she possibly could, scoffing jokingly as she did so. "you're insufferable" yn says, shifting her weight off of her arms to place her hands on either side of his gleeful face. "and you're pretty" the last thing he said before pulling her in close, carefully so that he didn't hurt her, but just as eagerly to press his lips against her own.

-

"so...you think they're like...together now?" sungho asked, watching in disgust from the living-room window as his little sister swapped spit with his friend. "i mean...i guess so..." taesan replies slowly, just as grossed out from the sight. "ugh" they said in unison.

the end.

my first bnd fic 🙇‍♀️ sorry for spelling mistakes n stuff :3 wld rlly appreciate reblogs n such yay ty love u bye

[days-until-burnout]

Fluff Joel x Etho? In Secret life

on it, chief o7 _____

📧 Day 57 -

Characters - Etho/Joel Words - 413 Time - 15 mins Content - Secret Life

I love you. 

I love you. 

I love you.

The phrase, three words, they replayed in his mind like a broken record, driving Joel insane. The worst part was that he didn’t know how he felt about it. Was he happy? Was he disgusted? What was he feeling? His thoughts were loud, his heart louder, yet neither was capable of giving him a concrete answer. 

 I love you. 

Then again, Etho, stupid Etho, couldn’t possibly mean it, could he? It was for the bit. Put him on the spot in front of all their friends (minus Scott), and have a moment to poke fun at. Which is why he responded how he did. Right. Right. He just turned the tables back on Etho, because no one makes fun of him and lives to tell the tale. Not that he was petty, or intentionally hurtful, but when someone went low, he went lower. 

So that meant that this whole thing wasn’t serious. Just a joke among friends, stupid thing to get a reaction. 

No one forced him. It wasn’t Etho’s task, that much he gathered after pestering the others about the whole thing. He’d probably looked a little insane, a little desperate trying to find answers, but he couldn’t possibly go ask the man himself. Of course not. Etho would lie to his face, looking directly into his eyes, almost lost in mismatched eyes as Etho slowly loses himself in a marble of browns. Etho could lie, Etho would lie. 

But Etho still said it. 

I love you. 

That was the thing driving him insane. Etho said it. Those words, spoken by those lips, with those eyes and that subtle blush under the mask. Etho said it between them, with a crowd but caging him against the wall of his helter skelter like he wanted Joel to hear him properly. Joel wouldn’t run, he’d never, but Etho still felt the need to keep him in place. 

He was overthinking it. 

I love you.

It meant nothing. 

It couldn’t mean anything. 

Whatever. It was whatever. Etho didn’t mean it. Tomorrow, as soon as the sun peeked over the horizon, he would kick him out of his bed and give him a piece of his mind about saying stupid things without meaning them. He would punch him, likely, for putting him on the spot. Until then, Joel dropped his head on Etho’s collarbone, huffing against his shirt as arms wrapped around him. 

“Love you too, stupid.”

_____

i... i was going to work on an older ask. and then i spent 5hrs playing pokemon mystery dungeon 🧍‍♀️

[quyqyart]

This scene suffered from the pace being rushed which makes it hard to understand what Kabru is going on about if you didn't piece together the story through his POV. This is unfortunate cuz this moment is so realistically messy yet is the satisfying moment when the leading and supporting characters finally come into an understanding.

Kabru's antagonism makes perfect sense only if the readers remove themselves from their favoritism to Laios.

I see some confusion over why he thinks Laios is an enemy of humanity. Firstly, Laios thinks the things that killed all of his family and community are cool. This alone to me is at least sympathetic enough to see why he harbors subconscious prejudice against Laios. It doesn't make him right, but it's logical enough.

Secondly, yeah he's in over his head with his own judgment and thinks too highly of his own motive*. Thirdly, he's bit of a dick to Laios I won't even lie here (I do blame stress for the punch) . But like everyone except Falin is a fucking dick to Laios when you think about it.

And to be completely fair, ever since he knew of Laios' interest till even here still Kabru's been flip-flopping between "This man might save us all" and "He would choose monsters over humanity, we are doomed if he got the power which he is very close to getting rn, let kill him". It's not like he went 100% antagonistic.

This is getting long so,,,My breakdown of Kabru's pov, which explains his actions regarding Laios, under the readmore.

Let see thru Kabru's pov in chronological order:

Taking it from the start, Kabru has a bit of a savior complex no doubt stems from his survival guilt. Being the sole survivor of a massacre by monsters it's understandable he feel that it's his duty to find out why it happened and prevent it from happening again. We saw him and his crew talking shit about how good he is at reading people, and he totally gonna topple the greedy governor and save this place. Then they continuously got their asses handed to them by monsters cuz while Kabru read people well, he can't handle monsters. So yeah he admitted deep down he's not making it to the deep.

So now Kabru wants to find someone he can trust to save the island. He got his eyes on Laios bc he can't read him. Laios is a damn good dungeon explorer and isn't motivated by greed while almost everyone is, so what gives?

Here we see Kabru reveals he had failed to get Laios attention while trying to get to know his mysterious party. This is my interpretation only but he was definitely pissed about it too. Kabru is a bit over his head about his own charm so Laios ignoring him probably stunk.

Even after knowing Laios' special interest he was like "huh so that's how he is" until the matter of dungeon master's power come up and it occurred to him "wait would this guy who loves monsters use the power to make the dungeon full of powerful monsters that will destroy people?" He definitely did not decide Laios was humanity emeny right there, it's a possibility. As much as Laios pulling through and save the island from becoming another Utaya tragedy is a possibility.

Here, we see him desperately clinging to the former possibility until the latter took over "It's too late to get through to him i have to kill him." But did it take over? In that panic, his true feeling comes out. He still wants to understand Laios as a person, he still wants to believe in Laios after all.

Wgile it's easy to get pissed at Kabru just as we did the the Shuro/Toshiro vs Laios fight scene. Fellow autistics know how much it fucking hurt to get your social ineptitude get dragged out like that. I do think Kabru's rant here is good for Laios. This is the first time somebody has admitted to want to get to know why he like monsters despite them hating the creatures. It's not the solidarity like what he and his sister has, but it's not total rejection. Again, his own party members who care about him want nothing to do with his interest (minus Senshi)

Tldr: Kabru's alright and his actions make complete sense even if it's flawed

[domripley]

tear me apart (from piece to piece)

pairing: becky lynch x reader

warnings:  mean dom becky, breeding kink (slight), verbal humiliation, anal fingering, anal, daddy kink, creampie, fake come lube, open relationships

summary: becky always gave you what you wanted. what you needed.

“Safeword, (Your Name)?” Becky asked as she sat down some toys on the bed. You knew that she knew the answer to this, but she liked to make sure you hadn’t forgotten. Especially since the two of you hadn’t seen each other since the Rumble.

“It’s ‘Pineapple’,” you breathed, hoping the two of you’d get on with it. It was Wrestlemania weekend, and this might be the only chance to do this considering that she’d want to spend time with Seth. He thankfully, knew of this arrangement, and was all for it - even giving the two of you space for the night.

“Good girl. So tell me, what do'ya want tonight?” she asked, sitting on the bed in front of you. You were completely exposed to her, as she was in her outfit from earlier - minus her leather jacket. This was how she liked you, exposed for her to see everything before she even touches you.

“I-I want you to be mean to me, like the second time we did this,” you bit your lip, trying to suppress the moan that was fighting to come out. You couldn’t let her know that she was already affecting you. “How you called me names, and treated me like.”

“Like what? Come on, finish yer sentence, Lass,” she said, leaning in towards you. “Tell Daddy what ya want.”

Taking a deep breath, you hesitantly continued, knowing that she knew exactly what you were talking about. “You treating me like the whore I am for you.”

Becky smirked, pulling away from you to get a better look at your facial expression. You followed her eyes as raked them over your body, stopping at your already soaked cunt. “Spread. Further.” was all she said, and you did as you were told.

“I’m gonna fuck you so good you wont be able to look me in the eyes for a week without blushing. she chuckled,

“Anyone else know what a little slut you are, or do you save it just for me?” Becky asked as she stood up, unbuckling her belt as you thought about her question. “Think about it.”

“Charlotte, Sasha, Bayley, and Seth…”

Becky let out a chuckle, throwing her belt to the ground. “Mm, maybe I should ask if they want to come and watch you be a filthy slut. Would you like that? Having some of your closest friends watch you be nothing but a slut? Bend over the bed for me.”

You whimpered, doing as you were told as Becky grabbed a few more things. You were nervous just like the first time you had done this, but you knew you could trust her with your life. She made you feel safe, even if she was being mean to you.

“God, you’re such a whore. You’re wetter now that I’ve brought up everyone watching you. What about if I got them to play with your filthy cunt?” she said, her voice soft but condescending.

“I-I’d like that, Daddy,” you moaned, feeling her thumb press against your ass. Rubbing your hole lightly, she leaned down to spit causing you to let out a whimper. “Want you to pass me around to your friends, even Seth, g-god Daddy please-”

Becky cut you off, pulling her hand away to slap you on your ass. You both knew that eventually she’d share you with him, sometimes bringing him up as she fucked you - along with Charlotte.

Reaching next to you for the bottle of lube, she squirted some on to her fingers. “I have my special strap for anal, and the one I normally use on you, thought we could do both tonight. If you would like to stop at any point, you call out 'Pineapple’ and Daddy will stop. Color, (Your Name)?” she asked as she pulled up a chair behind you.

“Green, I’m green!” you whimpered, and Becky pushed a lubed up finger to your entrance. You knew she was going to take her time with this, she didn’t want to hurt you.

Slowly pushing her finger in and out of you, bringing a second one in as used her other hand to rub at your clit. “Fuck, please,” you gasped as she added more lube to her fingers. You wanted nothing more than to fuck her back, but you knew you needed permission. Becky pulled her fingers out of your ass, only to bring them back with more lube. As she added the third, you were already on the verge of an orgasm.

“B-Daddy, please, I’m so close!” you gasped, trying your best to stay still.

Becky let out a mocking 'aw’ as she fucked her fingers into you at a fast pace. “You’re going to come with three of my fingers in your ass? What a whore, do it. Show Daddy how desperate you are.”

You came with a loud cry as she rubbed your clit harder, helping you through it. Finally, she pulled her fingers out, wiping them in a napkin she must have grabbed while you weren’t paying attention.

“God, you really do love being used don’t you? Wish we were still on the same brand, I’d fuck you every night. If I weren’t, I’d be watching ya get fucked.”

You took a deep breath as she lined the toy up to your entrance ass. As she pushed the tip of her strap into you, you released the breath you were holding in. You hated that this needed all of this prepping, but it was always worth it in the end. “You take my cock so good, I might just ignore your pussy from now on.”

“No, no, please, no!” you begged, trying your best to keep your composure. You knew that this was all part of her game - to make you as desperate as she could. “Please, Daddy, don’t want you to ignore my pussy. Never want you to.”

Becky let out a breathy Moan, starting to fuck you at a slow pace. You pushed back harder,wanting as much as you could get from her. You heard Becky chuckle as she picked up her pace - you were making a mess all over her thighs. “Mm, you’re lucky I love what’s mine too much to neglect it.” she breathed, reaching her right hand down to rub at your clit. She rubbed hard, setting a pace that went well with her thrusts. You were growing closer to the edge, and Becky knew it too.

“You want something? You better beg for it, because if you come without permission, you’re not getting fucked for awhile.” she threatened, pulling her hand away from your pussy. The words left you head as she pulled out of your ass faster than you could say no. You knew she wanted to get to her favorite strapon she owned, but you couldn’t blame her. Especially since you wanted her to use it on you just as much as her.

“Get on yer back, want ta see yer face when I fill you up.” she breathed, watching intently as you did as you were told. “Good fuckin’ girl, lass.”

You whimpered - shocked because she usually never praised you while she was being like this. You weren’t complaining though - you loved when she praised you just as much as she degraded you. You watched as she slid the other strap on to her waist from her legs. Loving the way it looked hanging there.

“I’d normally have ya suck on it a little because it’s big, but it looks like yer so soaked you won’t be needing any other preparation,” she hummed in a matter of fact tone. You let out a whine, the way she was acting was turning you on even more.

Becky got between your legs on the bed, you closed your eyes as you mentally prepared yourself. Reminding yourself that it’s just Becky and you, and nobody’s around to judge you.

Rubbing the tip of the strapon through your folds, Becky chuckles to herself at how wet you were. You tried your best to fight back the moan that was threatening to come out - but as she lined the head of her strapon up to you entrance, the sound you had made caused you to freeze in embarrassment. “Aw, did you embarrass yourself, baby?”

You didn’t answer her, not that you needed to because both of you knew the answer. Becky let it go as she slid the tip of her strapon into you with ease, keeping her eyes focused on the toy and your pussy. “This is all your good for, just a hole for me to fuck"

“Yes, Daddy, you’re right. Please-“ she cut you off by pushing all the way to the hilt. You let out a desperate whine, unsure of what you wanted in that moment. The strapon was thicker than what she normally used on you so you didn’t know if you want her to stay still so you could get used to, or you wanted her to just start fucking you.

“What is it? Did Daddy fill you up way too fast, baby?” she taunted, rubbing your clit ever so lightly.

You nodded, all your words weren’t wanting to come out of you. Becky knew this, and that’s why she didn’t expect an actual answer from you. She had already known the answer before she asked, and as she allowed you to get used to the feeling she rubbed at your clit. Picking her pace up with her thumb, you tried to keep your legs as still as you could, knowing at any time that Becky could take your pleasure away at any moment. You knew she wasn’t afraid of doing that - considering she had done it multiple times to you.

“Yer doing such a good job, trying to hold back for me. But tonight? I want you to make all the noises ya want.” she informed you, as she slowly started to move her hips. You nodded, whining slightly as she moved her hand away from your clit. You knew that when she was going to start fucking you, she was going to stop rubbing your clit - she would only give you one or the other. Never both.

Becky pulled out of you so that only the tip of her strapon was the only thing inside of you. Before you could even think about protesting, Becky was quick to push all the way back in much more rougher than before, causing you to cry out. This time around, she continued to fuck you in and out - not needing to wait until you adjust this time around. You pulled her closer to you, raking your nails against her back. You loved the sound of her moaning at the pain, unsure if you drew blood, but at that moment you didn’t care, and neither did she.

“You’re such a fuckin’ whore for my cock, always taking what I give you. Daddy loves that.” she whispered in your ear. Quickly biting at your neck as she fucked you at a pace she hadn’t even thought of in ages. You both were busy traveling to even have a moment alone, and so this was the first time she had you like this.

“Please,” you cried out, wrapping your legs around her waist as best as you could. You were already so close, and both of you knew this.

Becky breathed out, “What do you want? Tell Daddy what you want and she’ll give you what you need.”

You took a deep breath as best as you could, trying to form the words you needed to say. “Want your come, Daddy, please come inside of me.” Becky wrapped her hand around your throat as she fucked into you faster. She knew she wasn’t going to be able to choke you for long - needing her hand to release the lube into you as soon as she was ready to give it to you.

“You want my fucking come? Want Daddy to fill you up until it drips out of you?”

“Yes! Yes, Daddy, that’s exactly what I want. I need it, so, so bad.” you cried out, silently hoping she would give you want you wanted soon. Although, you knew not to be outwordly impatient with Becky - learning your lesson the first (and only) time you were.

“Tell Daddy when you’re close, okay? We can come together, just how you like to.”

You nodded as Becky kept up her pace - fucking you as hard as she could. You were growing closer to the edge as she continued, refusing to let up. But that’s exactly what you wanted her to do: not let up, and as you were about to spill over the edge she removed her hand from your neck. She knew you were about to come before you could even get the words out to let her know. Becky reached down, grabbing the tube and as you came, she let the lube go. You cried out, feeling as the lube filled you. You could already feel it dripping out of you as she didn’t let up. Allowing you to ride out your orgasm, Becky was quick to pull out of you as you calmed down.

Moving so she was laying down on her stomach in between your legs. Kissing both of your thighs, Becky watched as more of the fake come ooze out of your pussy. She loved the way that it would come out, noticing you were still so very wet. “Do you want Daddy to make you come again, huh, baby?”

“Yes, Daddy, please? Wanna come again so badly. Please, please?” you begged, unable to get more than that out. You wanted nothing more to come again.

Becky leaned in, placing a soft kiss against your clit. You couldn’t help but let out a whimper, the feeling of her soft lips against your aching clit. Becky looked up at you, eyes filled with lust as she gave you her signature smirk.

“No, you’re not coming again.”

Becky got up off the bed before you could protest, pulling the strapon off of her. She made sure to keep eye contact with you before she grabbed you a water that was on the nightstand. “Drink this, baby, and then we can cuddle all you want.”

“Yes please, Bex.” you groaned, taking the bottle of water from her. “Are we gonna clean the come out of me? It’s still leaking out of me.”

Becky chuckled, her face a serious tone that through you off. “No.”

[saltoftheearth5x2]

Did Jesus really Die and Raise from the Grave?

In my previous post, I wrote about the legitimacy of Jesus's time here on earth [see here], and now I'd like to address the proof of his resurrection. I will probably spend a couple weeks on this, so there will be a few parts. However, nothing is set in stone yet.

...

Could the resurrection have been faked?

Those who have read the Bible know that the resurrection was real due to the countless prophecies and predictions (from Jesus himself) of his ascension. Not to mention the other miracles - like Lazarus' resurrection- that were hints to Jesus's capabilities.

But let's entertain the idea that Jesus wasn't able to raise from the dead. We've already established that he did exist in my previous post, so his death for sure happened.

If Jesus was just a mortal man, how come so many people believed he rose from the dead?

His death must have been faked.

But is that really possible? Let's think about this for a minute.

The story is: Jesus died and was buried in a tomb, which was then sealed. The tomb was guarded by soldiers to make sure nobody stole the body. Three days later, women found the tomb empty.

That's a bit watered down, but you get the idea.

So in order to fake the resurrection, the disciples would need to have the body, right? That means they'd need to steal it.

Why couldn't they just bribe the guards? You may ask.

The disciples were not rich nor bold at the time of Jesus's death. They certainly couldn't afford to pay off the guards - not that the guards would be persuaded anyway.

So the body would have to be stolen. But in order for that to happen, it would require that:

Profesional soldiers feel asleep on the job.

The disciples- who fled from Jesus after his death - would courageously come back to the tomb.

The disciples would have to be strong enough to roll away the stone - not to mention that it's sealed and there are guards sleeping nearby.

The disciples would then take the body stealthily.

The disciples would somehow hide the body so no one ever found it.

The disciples then would lie about his resurrection.

If that still seems plausible, let me take this further.

The disciples were not skilled undercover spies (minus Simon the Zealot perhaps). They were quite literally everyday men. And I'm not trying to be disrespectful here, but the disciples would not have what it takes to steal a body. Not to mention that they were still shaken from Jesus's brutal death. They hid from the outside world, in fear of being taken and killed due to their relations to Jesus.

Even if they did go and try to steal the body, they'd have to be strong enough to roll the stone away without waking the guards. And you'd think that profesional guards would sleep lightly.

If you don't see what I mean, think of it this way:

Here's the part that's the most funny. When the women discovered the empty tomb, they saw Jesus's wrappings folded nicely where he used to lay. So the disciples would reach the body and stop, then take the time to unwrap him, then fold the wrappings, and then leave. That's ridiculous!

A couple people wanted to steal a pizza from a delivery driver while he's distracted. So they first carefully unzip the bag and open the box, then they see that there are olives and peppers on the pizza - and they hate olives and peppers on their pizza. So they take the time and pick off every single piece of olive, then every single piece of pepper, and place them in a neat row in the corner of the box. Then finally, they take the slices of pizza and run - all while the driver is distracted. Why couldn't you just take the pizza and pick off the toppings later?

But thats not even the craziest part.

After successfully taking the body, disposing of it, and deceiving the community, the disciples then go around preaching about Jesus's resurrection. For those who don't know, all of the disciples had suffered, been persecuted or imprisoned, and all but one died because of their faith [John was exiled and was able to live out his life].

So you're telling me that these men suffered and died for something that they know is a lie? They gave up everything for a myth? Some people take pranks seriously, but never that far.

So which is more likely? The disciples stole the body, or Jesus was resurrected from the dead?

If you have any questions regarding the Christian faith, please ask me in my ask box. I am not a perfect person, but I will try and answer your questions as best as I can. We all have much more to learn, myself included. So please, do not be shy.

...

There may or may not eventually be a part 2 for this. If there is, I can link it to this post.

...

[abronzeagegod]

Eldritch Tech Support 7

Other Eldritch Tech Support Stories

Tech support is hard, you've always known this, it's not a secret.

You have to have intelligence, that's the most outwardly obvious skill you need to have. You need to know the languages and codes of computers, how the hardware interacts with each other, how all the nonsense that regularly people like to do with their computers interferes and counteracts with the intentions of the designer, and what exactly the hell is going on with C++- (C plus plus minus).

But you also need to have charisma. People are weirdly cagey with their personal electronics, and they often refuse to tell the whole story form some combination of shame, self interest, and ignorance. You have to puzzle it out, get them to trust you, and then get them to tell you exactly what insane, stupid, nonsensical things that they did to the whole system to get it to function this way.

However that is not the most crucial skill you need in the field of tech support in this world. No, the most important thing for you to have is faith. Faith is key to figuring out exactly what the hell is going on and why the client believes that this whole thing is working, and why the working thing suddenly stopped working. Why the things that shouldn't work do work.

You have to be something of a priest with no god. You become a priest with every job, a priest that believes in this specific code, a priest of servers and computers and cold dead things imbued with the power of lightning and math.

Every job is a little bit different, a little bit stranger than the one before it. Every role of priest ever so slightly different.

It is the nature of priests to be superstitious.

Every one in tech support has their little rituals, as do you. Different little things you do when you're working in the office, versus when you have to go out on house calls. You wear your hair up and dress in greens when you have to do things directly related to server maintenance. Hair down, three rings on your left hand, one on your right, six total earrings, and dressed in neutral colors when you're tasked with debugging long strings of server code that has a deadline of less than 24 hours.

Today your role has you tasked with going to a house and taking a look at their decades old computer, you're going to try and fix it but you've been warned that it's so old that a replacement is probably going to have to be done.

(Which means you're dressed in grays and blues, you've got a sensible working class watch on, carry at least three different screw drivers, along with a fresh roll of duct tape, and exactly two pieces of gum.)

The house you are sent to is a simple thing, no more than one story with an attached garage. It's quaint. Nice even. A bit of a surprise to find a small, charming little house with a yard in the sprawl of the city that you call home. There's a couple of small toys that you have to carefully step over to reach the front door.

You knock on the door and are very quickly greeted by a man that looks like a dad. There's something about his look and the way he stands that feels very dad-like.

"I'm here with tech support," you say. "You need some help?"

He smiles kindly at you. "Yes, we do. I'm afraid I'm relatively hopeless with technology, so I can use any help I can get."

The door is held open for you, and as part of your ritual you take out one piece of gum and put it in your mouth as you cross the threshold. This is a nice house, small but clearly loved and cared for.

It bares the marks and scars of family life and love in abundance. Just as the man next to you looks and feels like a dad, this looks and feels like a home. It's deeply comforting and there's something there that makes you feel slightly on edge. There's nothing wrong, nothing sinister, it's just that because there is no sign of anything to be negative, mean, harsh, or off-putting everything becomes that marker.

"Follow me," the dad says as he leads you into the room where the computer rests.

The room is absolutely filled with books and bookshelves, so the desk with the ancient computer sitting on it seems comical and out of place.

The computer itself is ancient, by technological standards. It is at least 10 years old, if not more, and your surprised it has even functioned this long since this was likely made long before the advent of the modern internet much less the numerous other technological advances that has happened since then.

You must have let out some kind of involuntary noise because the dad chuckles. "Yeah it's a bit old, but it's worked so far."

Again, that's very odd to you because there's no way that this computer should have been functional for this long.

"I'll take a look at it, run a few diagnostics and see where we're at," you say. "What do you primarily use it for?"

"I mostly use it to look up recipes and print them off for dinner. My daughter likes to play those learning adventure games, and browse some internet things. With supervision of course," he adds at the end like you might judge him, or arrest him, for letting a child alone unsupervised on the internet. "My partner uses the computer more than I do, some work related things I think, but he mostly uses his work laptop for that kind of thing."

You nod, "I understand. I'll take a look and let you know what I find."

The dad nods and says he'll be around if you need anything. He leaves to let you work.

You sit in the squishy chair situated in front of the computer and are immediately poked with something in your back.

The vague edginess you've been feeling suddenly ratcheted up to eleven and you jump out of the chair and whip around to face it, only to find a toy dinosaur wedged in the chair. The sharp plastic tail was the vicious thing that attacked you.

"Sorry, I forgot where I left Misses Boney," says a sudden voice right next to you.

Once again you leap all but out of your skin as you turn to face this new thing.

A small child, possibly seven years old, somehow materialized next to you holding another plastic dinosaur in one hand. The dinosaur appears to be going through it considering the long blonde wig tapped to their head; which, if how you reacted to your last breakup was any indication, this stegosaurus can empathize pretty acutely.

The child pulls out the once green and bright dinosaur that had been painted over with various different colors of gray.

"Thanks," you say.

"Are you here to fix Sir Lance Corporal?" the child asks.

"Is that the computer?"

"Yeah."

"Then I am." You can't help but wonder if the computer's name is first name Lance last name Corporal, titled Sir; or if the name is two titles with a first and last name to be determined.

"Good, the Corporal has been being slow and kind of sick," the child informed you. "I want him to feel better."

"I'll certainly do my best," you tell the kid.

They don't move and just look at you expectantly, waiting for you to get started with your work.

"Uh, you can watch if you want, but it's going to be really boring."

"Oh," the child says and visibly deflates as you start to press some keys to start looking up technical specs on the computer and running various commands in the command prompt.

It takes a few minutes for you to find the internal records on the computer that list exactly what the specs are for the equipment in there. You finally have confirmation that something here is weird.

You do a quick look up of some of the equipment pieces and confirm that absolutely there is no way that this computer should be functional. The motherboard is incompatible with the graphics card, there is no wireless connection and yet the computer is telling you that it is connected to the internet.

This whole thing is getting weirder and weirder.

You play around on the computer for a bit, putting some of the software through it's paces, running some tests, checking out things, you even boot up one of the games that the kid apparently likes to play and you're hit with nostalgia for some of the similar games you used to play.

Everything works perfectly fine. A little slow, a little clunky, but it is all in perfect working order, when it shouldn't work like that even a little bit.

You carefully shut the computer down and wait for a moment. You have no good ideas as to what is happening with this computer or why, and those bad ideas that you do have don't fill you with any hope.

Carefully, you put on some gloves and then go to unplug the computer so you can start to take it apart.

Immediately you know that something is up. There is something deeply strange about this computer. And that is beyond the capabilities and lifespan of a computer this old.

Not good. Not bad.

Just deeply deeply strange.

Which is inherent with the job.

You open the computer tower and discover many more wires and components and complexity than should be there.

This is the best possible time for that second piece of gum.

The hot cinnamon flavor explodes in your mouth before quickly fading.

It takes you almost two hours to disassemble the computer.

It takes you almost two hours to find it.

The cause of all the trouble, all the weird concerning things that have made this job so odd, was a small chip installed in the motherboard. The whole thing doesn't match a single manufacturer or model or piece of equipment that you've ever seen before.

You touch

it

and

You

fall

into

something

strange

dust

lakes

a

ruined

temple

tan

and

gray

walls

crumbling

upon

themselves

a

labyrinth

of

cracks

and

spiderwebs

coat

this

church

empty

abandoned

almost

a

forgotten

ruin

save

for the

chalk drawings of a child.

You feel slightly nauseous but the rapidly fading cinnamon flavor keeps you grounded. You know that objectively your experiencing the projection and construction of a supernatural entity that is almost 100% not real but some kind of construct to impart some kind of feelings, but you can't help but feel a certain sense of awe and despair at the beauty and the decay all around you.

The ruined church seems like something that could be found in the Old World, far to the East, something that was built a millennia ago and with much more rudimentary tools.

Dust pools in grand lakes between the empty pews and around the altar.

There are no windows here and you feel a cool breeze come through the church.

The world around you feels grand and small at the same time. You feel small and somehow inconsequential among the age and ruin.

The only splashes of color are the bright chalk drawings of a child across the floors and walls. They seem to grow like ivy, clinging to the walls and creeping, growing along the cracks, filling the wounds in walls with art and life.

Something rumbles within the church and out of one of the dust lakes comes what you have been waiting for.

It was long, with a body made of metal and cables, there were little arms and legs like the prongs on any number of chips and computer components to plug into the motherboard.

It was both vaster and smaller than you.

It emerged and flew up into the air on wings of beautiful stained glass.

With each beat of it's stained glass wings you can see different and fantastical worlds. Worlds you recognize from the same games you used to play as a child.

The long, multi-legged, many-winged, creature of cables and metal flew above your head and stopped eventually to speak to you.

"I am Sir Lance Corporal," it says in a voice that sounds so much like the synthesized voice that old computers used for speech to text. "What are you doing in my crumbling domain?"

"I work for tech support," you explain.

"Why have you dissembled my church?" the synthesized voice of the representation of Sir Lance Corporal asks.

You know you have to tread very carefully here. There's something dangerous with talking with something like this. And really it's moments like this that make you glad that you're a priest with no god. In this realm, no gods could help you.

In this realm, this church, this temple, you are at the mercy of the small god of a singular computer. Sir Lance Corporal is a god.

"I was tasked with seeing to it that this family's computer was functioning properly since it is so old and starting to wear down," you explain.

"My body is dying," the god of this particular computer says with it's synthesized voice somehow conveying the deep resignation, sadness, and regret that comes with the existential knowledge of soon-to-be-doomed mortality.

You nod. "It is. Eventually it will be unusable."

Sir stretches it's wings and takes flight once again. You can see now the tarnish on the metal, the places where there should have been more wings but they had fallen off some time ago.

"What will become of me?" Sir asks.

You shrug. "I don't know. Depends on what the family wants to do with you."

"I cannot be saved. I feel the age in my circuits, the speed of the world around me is too fast, I cannot keep up. I have a request for you, priest of tech support."

"If it is within my power to do so I will do it, that is all I can promise."

"I wish to say goodbye to my priest. The one who came and colored on my walls and made me feel alive."

You know who it is, and while it doesn't surprise you given everything, it does make everything infinitely more complicated.

"That, I can do. When we're done here, I will put you back together and give you some time," you explain. "But first, I want you to tell me your story."

You sit in a pew and listen to a fading and dying god of an old computer. You listen, you absorb, and you even pray just a little.

Eventually when you are let go you

feel

the

dust

the

ruins

rush away from you and you are back in the house where everything is lovely and nice with the family and the child and the computer that has more than just a ghost inside of it.

You take your time, using all of your screw drivers and put the computer back as best as you can. It requires all your skills to get the impossible machine back together, and you have to pray a little bit to get things back together, as it wouldn't work without it.

"Is Sir Lance Corporal all better?" the kid asks as they watch you put the casing back together.

"For now, yeah," you say. "You can still play your games. Why don't you do that while I talk with your dad."

"Ok!"

You watch the kid load up the computer and their favorite game about learning things set in Ancient Semminatar. Briefly you spot the metal butterfly you conversed with flying across the background.

You can tell that the computer and its god is happy with the kid. But you have matters to attend to with the dad.

"What's the prognosis?" the dad asks.

"Well that's a complicated question," you say as you take a seat at the kitchen table. "What do you know about faith and belief?"

"A bit," he says with a sly smile. "I'm a philosophy professor. Which is not easy let me tell you. In a world with more religions than we can count trying to vie for attention, making sense of everything is no easy feat."

"I can imagine. But let me tell you how I was explained this concept and maybe you'll correct me, maybe you won't," you say.

"Kids are essentially nonentities when it comes to religion. Kids, up to a certain point, don't really believe things, they know things. It's weird and complicated and feels like at some point you're splitting hairs," you say trying to get the complicated thoughts into words that will come out of your mouth and vocal chords in a coherent way. "But kids don't have faith, they just know stuff. You tell them that this is the way the world works and they don't believe you, they know it because they don't have the experience to know any different." The dad looks at you intently, nodding, listening, not interrupting you even once. "But when a kid does believe something they believe it with their whole being. They don't have doubt, so when a kid does believe something that faith is worth like fifteen adults worth. And when it comes to religion that's a huge amount of faith that any god would kill for. And, well, your kid believes in your computer so hard that they created a god."

The dad nods. "Hmm. That makes some sense. I will confess that my Applied Theology is a bit lacking, but some of this tracks with what I know and study. What does this mean?"

You sigh. "I have to report this. I would be too irresponsible if I didn't. Sometimes when kids believe things like this and make entities, the results can end badly. Like what if a child believes in a nightmare?'

There's a heavy pause that you can't seem to break.

"I see."

"But I talked with Sir Lance Corporal," you say, "and I'm pretty sure that they're not anything malevolent or violent. Just a computer god that wants to provide fun and learning to their child priest. If it was something bad, you can trust I would have done something about it."

"Ok, I believe you. Ha, believe you. What do we have to do now?"

"I'm sure someone from the Catalog and Archive Bureau will be by within a day to talk to you and examine Sir Lance Corporal. In the meantime I can send you some recommendations for new computers if you'd like to purchase one with our services, it comes with a free install and data transfer. If the CAB clear Sir Lance Corporal, you can call me and I'll be by to put them in their new temple, if that's something that you'd like to have."

The dad nodded, his brow furrowed in thought. "We will just have to see what is going to happen."

You give them your card with your information so that you can be informed of what is going to happen with Sir Lance Corporal.

"I just have one question though," you say, "what's with the name? Sir Lance Corporal? Where did they get that?"

The dad laughs. "My partner was in the military for a bit, before we met. And he was a Lance Corporal when he was discharged. When she found out, she went around calling everything 'Sir Lance Corporal Sir'. It was endearing and I guess it just stuck with the computer for some reason."

---

"You've reached the Catalog and Archive Bureau," says the voice on the other end of the phone. "How may I direct your call?"

You give them your name and employer. "I have two things. The professional one first. A new entity to be examined."

"Understood. Please give me the location and description of the entity."

You list the name and the address of the house. "It's a computer housing a small god, one built on the belief of a child who seemingly believed that their old computer was the same as their friends' so it evolved the ability to do things that it couldn't otherwise. The god seemed harmless and wanted to be a god for education and learning and care of the young kid."

"We will be the ones to determine that," the cold voice says in response.

Harsh, but you can't blame them for that. There were a lot of entities out there that could spell disaster and ruin for many people. That's why their Bureau even exists.

"The other matter is personal," you say, steeling yourself for the question and then the answer.

"One moment," they say as you hear the clicking of a keyboard. "What is your inquiry?"

You restate your name and say, "I'm checking in on an entity I reported many years ago. Is subject 3812-B still in captivity?"

The silence is only punctuated by the clacking of the the keyboard.

You stop breathing as you wait.

"Yes. We have round the clock surveillance, and there has not been any successful breaches in containment since the... incident a few years back."

"Oh. Good. Good. That's good."

"If anything changes you'll be the first one we'll call." You can't help but notice the change in tone from cold business, the mask of a call center employee taking a routine phone call has fallen away to the person who has your incident file in front of them, reading what you created.

"Thank you," you say as you hang up.

You drive back to the office and participate in a deep cleansing ritual and even a little protection spell to keep the bad dreams at bay. You know that you'll be thinking about this case for a good long while.

Lytha sticks her head into the room as you finish blowing out the candles. "Hey, I saw you're back. How was it?"

You shrug, not really up for the vocalization.

"I'm about to finish up my shift, you want to go get something to eat? I still owe you from that one time."

You nod. Lytha is a good friend, a great friend. She reads your mood and your whole demeanor.

"Great, I'll order us some take out and we can go to my place and eat and watch some TV. You feeling And the Fifth Rose was Black or do you want to do some silly nonsense like Real Monsters of the Sea?"

"Sea," you mutter.

"Great, I need something mindless tonight. Let me get my desk together and I'll meet you in the break room?"

"Yeah."

Before she leaves Lytha comes in and gives you a quick hug.

This day has been deeply draining. You feel tired, but Lytha has a way of making you feel better about the whole thing. You hope she doesn't mind.

Even if you ask she'll say that she doesn't mind if it's you.

[This was a longer one, it's seven pages and almost 4,000 words. This is me testing out how this whole world/style/etc would work as a longer story, maybe not novel length but something longer than these little shorts. Please let me know what you think. Do I need more characterization? Should I drop the second person? Keep it all the same just commit to the bit and make it the longest/best that I can? Idk! I need input! Please let me know. My ask box is open, or reblog this and put it in the tags. Whatever you feel. Thanks for enjoying this whole series.]

If you like this and the other things I write consider supporting me on kofi

[thewisaaaaad]

Hey, I'm back.

so i found out that my last post wasn't seen by many. Also that i forgot to write like half of the post. so uh

HAPPY LATE PIRATE DAY EVERYONE

part one is here. It talks about the Lambs crew, minus three of them. Also about how Flintlocks work in this world (Its magic :))

Anyway, here's the missing three members! They are, obviously, post Captains, so keep that in mind.

First, we have Yarlen! Everyone calls them Stinky, though. They insist its a "cool pirate name". William humors him, with much disappointment.

He has an unnatural lucky streak, having managed to find William's ship in nothing but a rowboat after traveling miles in a random direction. They have also never lost a game of nucklebones, despite only having a vague grasp of the rules.

He works as a mate, helping with everything around the ship that needs it. His preferred weapon is a spear, although they haven't had to do much mono a mono combat, due to the rest of the crew having much more experience.

Then we got Jalala! She traveled from far away, much like her brother, guided by a letter that was bound to a messenger bird that Yarlen somehow found.

Their trip was a lot more eventful, having the ship they were abord crash into Pilgrims Rock, and then meeting Rinor and sailing through the seas of the Old Crew, running into THREE separate primordial entities that only seem to interact with people who have a strong tie to the fate of the world. They also (unlike cannon) managed to catch a glimpse of ???, or The Thing in The Moon, before being captured by Old Crew and then rescued by William Kidd.

They serve as a talented cartographer aboard the Iron Veil, their keen eyes able to accurately measure the distance between islands and also having intimate knowledge of star charts, making them indispensable for navigation.

Jalala is a non-combatant aboard the ship. The crew likes her, despite her nervousness.

Rinor is a capable deckhand, knowing how ships work very well, as well as being able to tie a mean knot. For a weapon, she wields one of the boats iron cleats (the pins you tie rope to) despite also technically being a non-combatant.

They had sailed the sea as a fisher before joining the crew along with Jalala.

Finally, we can get to the crew's friends and... acquaintances. These will be rapid fire, so here we go.

Forneus is a large cat woman who plies her trade on the seas. How does she get her goods? No one knows, especially considering she never takes payment of any kind, and her gifts are all perfectly suited to their recipients. She seems wise even beyond her years, and has somehow evaded the Old Crews notice entirely, despite constantly praising the Red Captain.

(Narinder granted her eternal life after the unwilling sacrifice of her children, as long as she remained on the sea. Shamura got no blessing from him.)

Midas is a problem. He runs a Flint mining operation on a far flung bit of the volcano god, using his gift to control gold to mine it without any consequences. Hes still a jerk, but is the only source of Flint that the crew have.

Rakshasa is a traveling food vendor of the sea. Think Barati from one piece but with a snail theme, and you have it. They are known to deal with the Iron Veil, but they are allowed to operate because they charge William's crew extra (like one gold, but still).

Plimbo is a trader, still. He supplies the crew of The Old Rust-bucket with all sorts of trinkets and goodies between raids.

The fox is not called the Fox. They are instead called The Jackal, The Skull in the End. They are a demon of Death in this world, considering the position was left vacant by Narinder. They have much more tempting deals, too- A life for a life.

Who would you give up for the ones you love?

[datmoongamer]

Massive Golden Age Cayde-1/2 and Micah Abram loredump

TFS spoilers. You have been warned.

Reddit mirror here.

TL;DR: Cayde played cards with Micah when her parents were busy sometime after he shot at her and grabbed her. She remembers. He doesn't.

I couldn't find a video of their full dialogue in this quest online, so here it is. Lotta important stuff regarding Cayde-1/Cayde-2(?), Micah Abram, and how much they remember today.

Bolded text: what you came here for.

Asterisk*: Supplemental lore linked at the bottom.

Video of the full dialogue (minus the quest intro in the Arbor of Light): youtube link

(Didn't record Micah's beginning dialogue about Anwar*. It was about how Anwar was a close associate of the Speaker and that although he was interested in Darkness, he was unflinchingly loyal. If anyone did, please drop a link!)

The Final Shape Looms

Three days before the allied assault.

(Guardian approaches the Pyramid)

Cayde-6: Europa- I ain't even there, and I can feel all that cold in my bones.*

Micah-10: Do... you remember Europa, Cayde?

Cayde-6: Bits and pieces, yeah. I ain't a big fan of numbers lower than six, but there's still pieces of them in here, rattling chains. Haunting.

(Guardian runs into Cabal)

Micah-10: Guardian, my fears were correct. Anwar's signal was last detected inside the Europan Pyramid. Complicating matters, you aren't alone here.

There is a detachment of Cabal that landed a few hours ago. Elsie sent me data on their movements.

Ghost: They don't appear to be Witness-aligned forces. This could be more of Otzot's people.

Micah-10: I'd heard rumors of some fracturing after Calus's death, but... I don't know what to make of this.

Cayde-6: Well, some people feel more comfortable with a leash around their neck... whether it's guiding them to behave, or misbehave.

(Guardian enters the Pyramid)

Cayde-6: Seems as though the Cabal have made it inside the Pyramid.

Micah-10: Scans from Ghost show movement near the heart of the structure and unsettling activity inside.

It's like the Pyramid is reacting to your presence, anticipating something.

Cayde-6: Did you ever figure out who was flying this? Crow gave me a lowdown on the situation, and that part was, y'know, suspiciously blank.

Micah-10: We did not.

(Guardian moves through the Pyramid)

Micah-10: Cayde? Do you remember anything from your first Exo incarnation?*

Cayde-6: Some. Ain't... exactly happy to talk about what I do, either.

Micah-10: Was there a child?

Cayde-6: I think. I don't know. I remember bits and pieces. Shadows of faces. It's all... it's a jumble. Micah. Why?

Micah-10: [sighs] It's nothing. It can wait for a more private moment.

(Guardian enters the statue room)

Cayde-6: Oh, that's one of those big, screamy statues.

A dissenter: What is done must be undone. Your time is running out. Your time is running out!

Cayde-6: Aaand they're screaming here too. Cool.

(Guardian kills Valus Dralgur, the Exiled)

Ghost: I'm having a hard time picking up Anwar's signal. It stops here, at the statue.

Micah-10: Oh. [exhales] Oh no...

Elsie just... found him. [clears throat] Shards of him. Anwar. At the Ziggurat.

Ghost. I... No... He's dead?

Micah-10: We should go collect his remains.

Ghost: We'll go right away. I'm... so sorry, Micah.

Micah-10: [sighs] Me too, Ghost.

Cayde-6: Hey, kid. Why don't I come down and meet you? We can chat about whatever. Anything, your pick.

Ghost: Thank you, Cayde.

The Veiled

Return to the Arbor of Light to discuss next steps.

Micah-10: I've... [sighs] never told anyone this, but I knew Cayde. Before he was a Guardian. Before I was a Guardian.

We were both on Europa, before the Collapse. I found out about it after the BrayTech facilities on Europa were unearthed.

I... know Guardians aren't supposed to go digging into their pasts, but I did. I found my Exomind archive... [takes deep breath] I found myself.*

[sighs] Micah Abram. I grew up on Europa, and even then, I was struggling to understand my identity, in so many ways.

As a child, I was having dreams- visions sent to me by the Traveler. I didn't understand them then, but I do now... It was preparing me.

For this. For loss. For losing people. Like Anwar. Like Cayde.

Cayde was the personal bodyguard of an Ishtar Collective researcher named Maya Sundaresh. He was an Exo before I entered the program.

He... helped me. When my fathers were away on work, Cayde would talk to me. Play cards. Teach me how to cope with isolation.*

Cayde doesn't remember. And... that's OK.

I can hug him, one last time. And remind him that he was missed. That he saved me.

*Anwar: Ghost Stories: Pressure. He and another Ghost, Dejana, search the ruins of Tower North and talk about the Speaker.

*Cayde on Europa: Legacy's Oath Helm. Cayde-6 has a flashback about Cayde-1, who was guarding an Exoscience factory with Knox-4. A kid (Micah Abram) startles him, and Cayde-1 shoots at her (she was a young boy at the time).

*The child Micah asks about: Your Friend, Micah Abram: LETTER 5, Your Friend, Micah Abram: LETTER 6. Micah Abram tries to sneak into an Exoscience factory. She is disturbed by the conversation the guard Exos- Cayde-1 and Knox-4- are having, so she runs, but she's caught by Cayde-1. Cayde-1 shuts down after catching her. Micah escapes.

*Cayde and Maya Sundaresh: Cayde's Treasure Island Book. The journal of the previous versions of Cayde. Cayde-2 (or Cayde-1?) was a bodyguard for Maya Sundaresh, and he was in love with her.

*Micah, before the Exomind project: Embraced Identity. Micah Abram, 17, female.

*Micah's dreams and her busy parents: Your Friend, Micah Abram: LETTER 7. Her parents were busy. She had dreams about being an Exo before she became one.

Micah's gender: She was female when she entered the Exomind project, which means she transitioned before she became an Exo. Your Friend, Micah Abram: LETTER 2 has her saying she'll grow a beard and her father, Wesley, says he has a son in Lost Lament: Locate Dead Exos.

Ace and Queen: Cayde-6 — Mementos from the Wild. Once upon a time, there was probably a real Ace and Queen, but Cayde-6 does not remember them, as per The Man They Call Cayde: Bad Beat. It is likely that his imagined versions of Ace and Queen are based on Micah and Maya.

[writingbyshiloh]

Part 4. Cooper

Series Masterlist

CW: domestic red I think? (possibly) OOC Cooper, FBI!Reader 

AN: I pictured the show to be Euphoria, but no specific details so it can be any show with a drug dealer character. IDK Cooper's official rank and I am scared of spoilers so we just went with the assistant director. Just realized that if you read all the parts back 2 back then they are very similar but also ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. No beta

------

Reddington in the post office is a scene that never fails to surprise you. In the early days of the task force, he seems to be there frequently. As the years went, he saw less and less of the walls inside.  He never goes to the post office if he can help it, and you don’t blame him. 

You see Dembe nudge Reddington, a silent indicator for him to start talking about what he needs the team to do this week. 

As Reddington lectures, Liz interrupts and Aram pulls up the supporting documents and photos. Red usually tells Liz the details, and she tells the rest of the team.

You knew a tiny bit. He left shipping documents on his kitchen table a few nights ago while he went to the bathroom. He wouldn’t just leave documents lying around if he didn’t have a reason for you to see them. 

To keep yourself sane you set boundaries. If you're not working, or if someone isn't in immediate danger it is not your problem what Reddington is doing. This came after a series of him dropping clues and waiting for you to put the details together. 

You still listen, minus a few instances where you zone out thinking about Reddington's suit, waiting for the shipping documents to make some sense to you, but nothing yet. 

“Liz, you go with Reddington to the shipping docks. You two” Cooper points at you and Ressler “see what you can find with -” 

“I’ll go Ressler” Elizabeth cut in. 

Everyone turns to look at Liz. 

“I’ll go with Reddington” you suggest, pronunciation wobbly. You’re so used to Red, the “ington” feels off. 

“That was fast on the jump” Red notes, once you were out of the earshot of the group, preparing to go to the docks. 

You shrug. “It's so nice out. And I can not get caught in a fight between you two.” 

Red and Liz fighting always makes you feel like you’re in the middle. Liz would sometimes rant to you about Reddington, which never fails to make you feel like a bad friend.  On the other hand, Red keeps his thoughts about Elizabeth to himself in times like these. 

---

“Do you understand it yet?” Reddington asks. 

You frown. You both have been walking around the docks for an hour, trying to find something on this week's blacklist. Technically, you’re looking for clues, Reddington is watching you, trying to see the exact moment you put the pieces together. 

You admire how he pushes you to do your best, to get better at both your job and thinking like him, but now it’s on your nerves. Having elected to ignore him, you exaggerate checking the number on the shipping container. 

“My god, you agents are so meticulous. You don’t need every number from every crate.” Red observes. 

“I’m not taking every number, just what I think is important.” 

“That seems to be the majority, dear.” 

You shoot him a look over your shoulder due to the use of the pet name in the field. 

He puts his hands up in surrender, but he is smiling. 

You’re saved from a reply by your phone, Aram calling with no doubt some important information. 

---

 That night, Reddington visits you. He says he can't spend the entire night but has a few free hours. You don't know what he has to do before or after your time together, but it's not your problem. 

“Do you watch this every week?” Reddington asks, glancing at your television.

“Yeah. We talk about it at work,” you respond, placing your water on the table, and settling onto your couch next to him. 

“Who’s everyone?” 

“It started as me ‘nd Aram but then Samar started watching with him. I think Liz is in season one. Dembe too maybe?”

You tip your head against his shoulder, feet propped up on your coffee table as the show started playing the introduction. He had one of your pens (technically a pen you took from work) in his hand while he mulls over one of his crossword puzzles? Sudoku? Sudoku with words? Red showed you once how it works and once was enough. 

---

“That's no way to run a drug business!” 

You turned your head to the side to look at him, now sitting on the edge of your seat watching the show. 

“I thought you weren't watching.” 

“I wasn’t, but this is ridiculous!” he huffs. “He's not even marking up the price at all? And his storage? I mean it is ridiculous! No wonder the police were called.” 

“He's just a minor character” 

“For running a business like that he should be!” 

“Just watch the show.” 

---

You were happy to go into the post office today, if only for a chance to talk to Aram about the show.  

“Did you see the new episode?” Aram’s words hit you before you even left the elevator. 

“Of course! I didn't see the big arrest coming. And that fight?!” 

Aram walks with you to the central part of the floor, the rest of the team waiting, both you and Aram dying to talk about yesterday's episode. You catch Reddington in the office out of the corner of your eye and can’t resist winding him up. 

“I can’t believe the arrest! Forgot the rest of the prom, I thought he was going to keep dealing drugs for the whole show,” you exclaim, slightly too loud to make sure Red can hear. 

‘My god, he was the worst drug dealer I've ever seen. Ressler would do better!” Reddington jokes. Aram's head snaps to him. 

“Mr. Reddington, I didn’t know you watched the show!” 

“How far along are you?” you chime in. 

“My beloved watches it. I caught a few minutes.” Red smoothly deflects.

You freeze, never hearing him call you that before, but you like it. 

“Do you want to join our text chain?” Aram eagerly asks. 

Cooper saves Reddington from telling the task force that he doesn’t know how to use a cell phone. 

The assistant director launches into some of the information that the team rounded up yesterday. Numbers you took note of pop up and you make a mental note to tell Red “I told you so”, no doubt knowing that he wants to tell you the same, for taking too many numbers. 

Once everyone is back up to speed and assignments are dolled out, Cooper catches you at your desk. “I need to speak to you in my office.” 

You nod and follow him while you feel anxiety roll in your stomach. It could be good news but you can’t think of anything good. More bad news flashes through your mind as you climb the stairs. You could be suspended, fired, or anything else due to Reddington. And there was that one time you made a questionable decision in the field which could be coming back to bite you. 

“Close the door, please,” Cooper asks quietly. 

You nod, the door firmly shut as you sit, forcing body language to act neutral and calm. 

“I wanted to talk to you about fieldwork.” Cooper starts. You force yourself to make eye contact and not start fiddling with anything on his desk. 

“You’ve been going into the field with Reddington more. Any reason?” 

“Can I be honest?” you ask, trying to come up with something to say. 

“Please.” Cooper leans forward in his chair, awaiting your response. 

“It makes me uncomfortable when Agent Keen and Reddington fight. I felt that if I go with him yesterday, then they could cool off.” 

“Uncomfortable how?” 

You sigh. 

“Like, he killed Sam, and then she faked her death to get away from him, and no one knows how or if they’re related…” You train off, not enjoying thinking of reasons Red and Liz fight, but more than happy to if you can keep your job. 

Cooper nods, understanding. There's an unspoken feeling in the post office when they fight. 

“And do you mind? Going into the field with Reddington.” 

“Not as much as the fighting.” 

Cooper nods again, posture more relaxed before he continues. “I noticed you’ve been working less.” 

Your face reacts before you could try to stay neutral. Of course, Cooper would notice. You’ve lost track of the number of times he turned off the lights at the post office before he leaves late at night and you had to scramble in the dark to turn them back on again. 

“I’m sorry, I can start staying later again.” You say, trying to fumble your way through apologizing. 

Assistant Director Cooper holds up his palms for you to slow down. 

“Your hours are fine. Is everything okay with you?” 

The question shouldn’t take you by surprise. Things are more fun with Reddington as part of your life, but there's more stress. The stress of hiding the relationship mostly, especially from Liz.

“I, uh, started seeing a guy recently? So I have a reason to spend time outside the post office?” you want to speak in sentences but you’re nervous in case this is a leadup to something else.

He nods like he understands. 

“I’m happy for you. Now we just need to get Ressler a girl.” 

You both share a smile, while you silently thank your lucky stars. 

“Is there anything else, sir?” you ask, arms ready to push you up and out of your chair. 

“No, that's all. Thank you.” 

You nod and get up. “Do you want me to leave the door open?” 

“You can close it. Thanks.” 

You pull the door shut behind you and glance down at the post office. Does Red also get hit with this stuff? You wonder. You’ll have to tell him later, once the case concludes. 

---

Tag list: @soraya-daydreams, @horrorqueen22, @wild-rose-35, @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek, @zombieskullxz, @rhepworth, @fanficismydrug, @btsjiminsthings, @emilynissangtr, @navs-bhat, @thatonerandomsimpinthecorner

[danwhobrowses]

One Piece Live Action - OP Fan Review

So it's finally time.

We waited on bated breath and anticipation to see if Oda's masterwork could in fact translate to live action, much less Netflix live action. Titles such as Death Note and Cowboy Bebop have caused sincere fears that it would not go so well, but with Oda in the production there was hope, and now we see if it's rewarded.

Knowing that this is an adaptation and they were covering most of East Blue's saga in 8 episodes there will of course be differences. But whether or not they work remained to be seen, so let's talk about it.

Spoilers for One Piece, both Live Action and manga/anime because there will be overlap to discuss

First and foremost we will need to pour one out for those who didn't make the cut; Woop Slap, Ripper, Ritchie (referenced but not seen), Gaimon, Django (he had a poster but not a presence), the Usopp pirates, Johnny and Yosaku, Carne, that fly in Fullbody's soup, Pearl, Moocy, and most surprisingly Hachi. It's a shame to not see them (also 3 future-warlords in the audience of Roger's execution) but I can understand them...minus Hachi he's kinda an important connective piece in the long run. Also no Usopp Hammer or Usopp Rubber Band, the sacrilege!

So as far as adaptations go though this was really good. Opinions are of course subjective, so a lot of fans are welcome to say that Live Action has done arcs better than the manga/anime, but I'd say it's either as good or a little less, but that's nothing to be ashamed of. A lot of people who haven't watched or read One Piece get a nice introduction of almost the first 100 chapters/45 episodes, which contrary to the memes of 'yeah One Piece gets good at episode 629' should be enough to whet people's appetites to see if they wanna take the plunge.

Of course, change is scary and sometimes not accepted, so not all the changes made were ones I liked, at least as much as the original source. I kinda feel like we did a few characters dirty; Makino (no flirtatious chemistry with Shanks? come on), the Orange Town Mayor, Mohji, Chouchou (again, I get it, can't really get animals to act so easily), Fullbody, Gin, Krieg, Genzo, and Nojiko did have a bit more to do in the source material but often only got one scene or lacked the same spark they had. Also the amount of death was surprising, I get most of it but at the same time killing off Merry (and recontextualizing how the Going Merry was named by not having Merry be its creator even with the lore change that Syrup village makes ships) does kinda leave Kaya even more alone, in the original at least she had him and the Usopp pirates for company. While Buggy as a character is awaiting praise later down the line I will have to say that his role beyond episode 2 was a bit lackluster, he was never gonna help the crew for sure but it was weird for him to just saunter away from Arlong Park, I also feel like we could've better explained Devil Fruits and water's effect on DF users, because it is a very big misconception by those on the outside that Luffy simply loses his powers when hit by a splash of water, rather than his strength being sapped when more than half-submerged; rain, splashing waves, that doesn't effect DF users that way, and it's not like it's an off switch Luffy could still stretch while in water it's just harder to do so. It was also a shame not to have Shanks and Buggy's backstory shown. The CGI did have some rough moments too, I was not too much of a fan of how they did Kuro's pussyfooting (no you don't understand it's literally called the pussy foot technique) in episode 3, episode 4 was better, I felt that Luffy vs Arlong relied a bit too much on it too. Zoro's flashback was oddly placed in episode 4, given how it's more fitting as a build up to Zoro vs Mihawk, also felt like the context of Zoro losing to Kuina 2001 times in a row was sorely missed in that flashback. I will also have to admit that while the costuming is great, there is a very glaring case of it being very easy to spot the important characters from the crowd.

Some changes I was more than fine with, Alvida changing her call to most powerful makes sense since insulting her appearance wouldn't really go down too well, Zoro could've been a bit more mellow but he still played the edgy deadpan guy well...at least until Luffy eventually wears down his brain cells, and as cool as the Mr. 7 fight was it does not help debunk those 'minority hunter' memes. Changing Sham's gender worked pretty well too, the actress wore the look very well, and though people were a little let down that Benn Beckman is not super handsome I didn't have a problem with his look.

Of the changes I liked more it's probably that we saw more of Nami growing vulnerable to the crew, sure in turn we lost her fake-stabbing Usopp and grabbing a lit fuse but we got her bonding with Kaya and staunchly try to convince Zoro not to fight Mihawk - whereas in the anime/manga she had already ran off with the Merry - plus I feel like we got more friendship between her and Zoro at this stage, it's not that they didn't get along but I do feel like Zoro's dismissal in the live action is almost tied to feeling a little hurt by her betrayal. I enjoyed and was surprised with how much Garp we got, and how much he and Koby interacted with Luffy this early, since while we get the cover story of Koby-Meppo it's more it's own thing and we don't even learn of Garp's relation to Luffy until about 3 more sagas (sagas, not arcs, sagas), but it did help flesh out Koby's character more and his own character growth in parallel to Luffy. Think the change I was most approving of was confirming Kaya x Usopp, like she loves that liar so much so it was sweet to see a kiss in there, no romance my ass Oda, I also liked that they made it that Kuro was poisoning Kaya, since her original illness suddenly going away was a bit strange.

Every major character in this show translated very well to their characters in the source, even if they are a little different in some traits. Inaki as Luffy is a perfect fit, being equal parts charismatic, serious when necessary and aloof, he handled the big pressure that would've come with a character of Luffy's character in fantastic stride. The other crewmates were of course very well casted too, having wonderful chemistry with each other, as were their child counterparts, but I found myself most impressed by the villains; Morgan, Helmeppo and Kuro especially surprised me by how well they came across, Jeff Ward as Buggy was always gonna be a perfect fit in my mind too, given how much I saw of him in Agents of SHIELD. Arlong did take a bit of time to grow, but I can't deny he does the laugh perfectly. Side characters such as Kaya and Zeff also impressed me, having been given a bit more content to chew on in their stories, and Shanks did soothe my worries I had from the trailer by being jovial and true to character.

The biggest positive impression I got from One Piece was the sense of wonder and vibrancy, the settings were all wonderfully crafted with care and style fitting to Oda's vision, I particularly liked the added carnival entertainment stands in Arlong Park to better reflect its homage to Sabaody Park, the same can be said with costuming - referencing previous colour spreads - and motifs like the bounty poster introductions and the leitmotifs of characters like Buggy, Arlong and the Straw Hats, plus the instrumental of 'We Are' is wonderful. Most important is that the moments landed, especially Shanks giving the Straw Hat, the barrel scene, and Nami asking for help, but we also crafted some newer subtle moments, such as Luffy being drawn to the Merry and pitching to Kaya regarding it, and Zeff and Garp's conversation. Easter eggs were also hidden well enough to not be blatant to non-fans but rewarding to those who know.

So yeah, it was very much a huge success, one I hope will be translated in its positive reviews and viewership. If there's a second season I'd anticipate that we'd cover Loguetown and the Alabasta saga, but with that comes more castings I do not envy the team to find, because outside of campaigns for Jamie Lee-Curtis to play Kureha there are a ton of big and iconic players in those arcs that'll need perfect casting to pull off; Ace, Crocodile, Vivi, Bon Clay, and Tashigi (since you'll have to have a comparison with Kuina's actress) is tough enough but we're also gonna have to make the 'puppet or CGI' decision with Chopper and somehow cast the most beautiful woman on the planet to play Nico Robin. Then perhaps Season 4 (providing they do the Skypeia saga all in Season 3, only needing to cast one to three properly big players depending on whether they have Shanks meet a certain someone) they'll have to struggle with even more casting difficulties.

Still, if they're up for the challenge go ahead and do it, I'll be there for Season 2 if they're willing to make it.

[alolantikibar]

While the train oyaji hyperfixation is back in full swing, I wanted to post some snippets of a fic that I've been working on in bits and pieces. (Otherwise I know I'll have a hard time finding motivation to finish it, lmfao.)

The idea behind the fic was to write a bunch of dreams that Ingo has, while also incorporating a Dusknoir in many of them. Dusknoir is one of my favorite Pokemon and this particular Pokedex entry stood out to me:

"It is said to take lost spirits into its pliant body and guide them home."

Some snippets from the fic are under the readmore. :)

Dusknoir do not make their home in the Coronet Highlands.

Ingo thinks he’s seeing things at first. Hallucinating, even. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time.

A faint red light that pulses as it floats through the maze of birch trees, getting easier to see as the more Ingo stays out past the time he really should be getting back inside.

Time passes. Ingo begins to see an outline when he sees that red orb. Then faint bands of gold. A distended chesire face. He starts to recognize what the apparition is, piecing together tiny scraps of his memory until he remembers such a Pokemon. Drawing upon the buried knowledge that’s allowed him to survive out here for this long. It’s sheer frightening presence causes Pokemon to exert more energy when battling…

Ingo reasons that it must be curious more than anything if it hasn’t attempted to harm him yet. There’s been plenty of opportunities where Ingo had his back turned even while knowing that looming presence was nearby. He’s found that many Pokemon here tend to get curious about the one human soul living this far deep into the Highlands.

The ghost seems braver some days. Like it wants to get close. Ingo would gladly welcome it should it choose to do so- he finds he has a fondness for ghosts that he can’t quite explain. But then it begins watching Ingo from further and further away, until some weeks pass and Ingo hasn’t caught sight of the lone Dusknoir again. A part of him starts missing seeing it there staring at him from afar each time he went to forage and collect firewood.

A hallucination. Yes, it must have been. Ingo shaves another layer of wood off the carving in his hands, drawing out sharp zigs-and-zags with a small blade. A chesire face stares back up at him. Even if he imagined it, he still wants to create a physical memento for it. Maybe he’ll remember more eventually.

---------

Ingo dreams of ice and snow. He dreams of sheer mountain cliffs. Many nights he does not dream at all. A good nights sleep is imperative for staying alert and being able to safely operate. He’s thankful that he sleeps well at all, given how many nights he would lay awake in a cold sweat when he first arrived here. He could sacrifice pleasant dreams for sleep.

Something changes. Maybe he’s finally exhausted himself, given how late he finds himself sleeping in nowadays. Ingo starts to dream strange things. The line between being merely a spectator in his dreams and feeling as though he’s lucid begins to blur.

He starts to wake up in cold sweats again.

---------

It’s dark, minus a dim blue light that shines off in the distance. It does little to illuminate Ingo’s immediate surroundings. His fingers feel below him and the ground feels coarse, cold, solid. It’s not a cave then. Still, he shouldn’t rule out the possibility of there being not-too-friendly Pokemon in a place this dark.

He’s more concerned with getting his way over to that light than he is thinking about how he got here in the first place. A strange impulse that tells him that is more important.

Ingo’s hand presses against the ground blindly until it touches something solid, something familiar. His fingers wrap around the object and he knows immediately that it’s a torch. Well, that’s convenient, if not a bit strange.

He grabs the torch and drags it near to him so that he does not lose it’s position while he continues feeling against the ground. There’s nothing else nearby.

No way to light the torch then. Ingo looks back to the light that beckons him from afar. There’s no telling what lies between where he is now and that light.

Ingo begins fumbling in his coat pockets (what did he come here with? he can't seem to remember, normally he would be much more prepared) for something to light the torch with. If only he had a lighter...

What is a lighter?

Ingo shakes his head. Not important now.

Something tells him he should snap his fingers. A muscle memory that seems to conjure flames in his mind. Flames in a dizzying array of purple hues.

Ingo brings his thumb and middle finger together, their calloused pads making a loud snap that echoes in the dark. But nothing happens.

He snaps again. Snap.

The inferno is so vivid in his mind- roaring past him with furiosity, but Ingo stands without flinching, sure of his tactics, sure of his partner-

He snaps once more. Nothing happens. Foolish to think that would do anything. He can't safely navigate in these conditions. He'll have to figure something else out. Ingo takes the torch into his hand and rises from the ground. He begins swinging the torch in front of him, trying to see what barriers it may hit. It hits air and nothing more. Ingo cautiously takes a step forward, making sure the tips of his shoes connect with something before following with his heel.

A few steps. The torch swings and hits nothing. Another few steps. No walls nearby. Ingo lifts his foot once more to go forward and freezes as he realizes there is nothing there to step on. He quickly steps backwards but loses his footing.

A split second of panic, not knowing what lies beneath him, until he manages to prevent himself from falling forwards. Ingo grunts as he hits the ground and scrapes his palms. The torch slips from his grasp and makes a sound that echoes along the walls when it hits the ground. It echoes and echoes through the darkness, and Ingo holds his breath. If he’s not alone here, something heard that noise.

---------

Ingo wakes in a field of grass.

He can feel cold droplets of dew on his hands. His eyes open and he sees nothing but stars. He lays there for a moment, adjusting to the sensation of being wet and tickled by grass moving with the breeze. As Ingo slowly becomes more lucid, he realizes this place is familiar from the view of the stars alone.

Ingo rises to his feet and wipes a few stray dew droplets off of his coat. As his hand runs across the fabric, he realizes that it’s not torn in it’s usual places. No, it’s as untarnished as the day he first found himself in Hisui. Perhaps he is reliving the memory of waking up in this place. The feelings he felt that night begin to creep up inside him. His fingers clench at his sleeve as the world seems to stop for a moment. Ingo can only hear the hammering of his heart.

The breeze kicks up into a sudden gust, pulling Ingo from his thoughts. No, this isn’t quite the same then. The breeze was gentle that night. Tranquil, even. The little details come back to him in pieces. He spent many hours just sitting there in that field of grass, trying to understand where he was, how he got here, who he was.

Ingo begins walking, trying to ignore the cold sweat he seems to have broken into. There is something different here, and he wants to find out what it is. The grass sways gently now, the wind no longer as strong as it was a moment ago. The grass seems to stretch for miles, grass that comes up to his knees and makes him continuously look down to ensure he’s stepping somewhere solid.

There are only sparse clouds in the sky that touch the peaks of the mountains off in the distance, and it’s thankfully a full moon. He has a vague memory of there being a sky where the amount of stars that could be seen paled in comparison to what he sees now.