#i spent like 5 hours completely blacked out writing this

[privitivium]

:3 in a suit returns with a new contract!:D and a new suit!!:DD good sir, your last contract worked out beautifully and i reawwy enjoyed it!!! now, i have a new contract!!!!:DDD ahem, dis time, allow me to introduce you to... da-da-da!!!!! afab working husband and househusband reader!!!!!! allow me to explain the details of this brand new contract, good sir:DDDD so, reader is a sweet, yet large househusband (who just so happens to be a service\subtop) ((are you sensing a pattern with my asks?(⁠´⁠-⁠﹏⁠-⁠`⁠；⁠) )) and reader has a lovely, hard working husband who just came home from a long, annoying day of work!!!!!!!:< so, he uses the readers entire body as his own personal toy to get rid of the stress and anger! (((with consent of course!!!!!!!!))) so, good sir, what do you think??:DDDDD

:3 in a suit ((((2.0 edition:0))))

-also, i enjoyed the lil macaroni signature!!!!!!!!!<3

god ur contracts are my favorite. i sign this with warm glass of milk. <3

i'll keep this in mind if there's a next time that you request to about enmu/character;; ill write them as an afab m unless u specify otherwise :333 ㅡ slightly diff writing style, proper capitalization for this one. Ahemhrm.. sorry for any mistakes!!!!

workhusband domtop afab m x househusband subtop amab m

After fulfilling your duties of housework and grocery shopping, you spend the rest of your day baking… around four, you begin working on dinner when an alarm rings from your phone; indicating that your darling husband is on his way home… he hasn't texted you all day today, leaving you just a bit worried.. he usually does every hour, but you shouldn't be too concerned as he does get busy… you can't blame him if he doesn't respond quickly-! You berate yourself with a soft huff, shuffling around the kitchen fluidly in nothing but black thigh highs with little white bows, paired with pink sheer lace underwear that showed off the print of your soft cock,,, and a frilly, lacy pink apron tied around your waist and neck. Pink and black are your husband’s favorite colorsㅡobviously you were gonna flaunt them with pride even in the comfort of your home! It was like a sign of ownership to you…

Interrupting your train of thought of debating which confection would taste better with certain drinks as you stir a glass bowl of brownie batterㅡthe lovely sound of the front door's lock clicking - y-your husband! Home… your hands tremble as butterflies tickle your gut - looking over the counters of the kitchenㅡ

The door swung open, the creaking of the hinges doing the storytelling. His footfalls.. entering - door closing behind him with a minor slam.. His bag, you assume, lands on the floor with a dull thud, carelessly dropped. The sudden noise broke you from your stupor of debating whether you should try and clean upㅡdeciding rather smartly, rinsing your hands briefly immediately hopping to greet your husband dutifully - having been awaiting him all day from the second he left for his 9-to-5..

“My love…!” Cheerfully enunciating, breaking away from your bowl you were vigorously stirring moments before - wiping your hands off on your frilly little apron and shuffling toward the front door where your husband merely stood in place as you near - his eyes level to your chest.. Seraphine, completely still with a resting face full of vexationㅡyour forehead creasing in concern at the vibe emanating from your small lover.. usually he would be as chipper as ever, rushing to kiss you.. you were exuding worry, rather than alarm as one would be when dealing with such a nasty mood..

“I missed you. H-How was your day?” A bashful, excited smile worms onto your lips as you hover over him without meaning to, gently placing your palm along his stiff shoulderㅡgrunting in surprise as he lurches forward; burying his face in your chest, nuzzling; a soft groan escaping his lips; muffled by your pecs.

“A-Ah… Seraph..” You coo lovingly, face burning with bashfulnessㅡdespite all the time you've spent married - pairing that with how many years you've been dating.. you still get all blushy like an idiot schoolgirl when he touches you so gently,, his small hands placed upon your waist - gripping tightly before they slip behind, untying the strings of your apron wordlessly. Body stiffened, muscles hardened as you let him do so;; letting him eye you in your day clothes.. pulling the apron over your head and tossing it to the side in a soft huff - and you take the time to gently pet his head, a soft hum emanating from your chest as you try to soothe your agitated Seraphine… his face resuming his position on your now bare chestㅡwhat is this, motorboating? maybe.. you forgot what some sexual terms are acted out..

Yelping in surprise as he attaches his lips to your nipple - kissing, licking, sucking.. nibbling roughly. Your hand, trembling just as your legs were, snapping to cradle the back of his head,, budㅡand cockㅡhardening in his mouth, before he laps up his own saliva, groping at your sides,, “... gosh, today was the worst, honey..” he murmurs lips leaving your slickened bud to gaze onto your glazed over eyes full of wonder,. “I know just the thing to cheer me up.” Seraphine grinned remarkably wide, almost rabid - deranged; a bit strained as he tried to be kind, but he began pushing you roughly toward the living roomㅡstumbling, slipping as you were wearing socks on moderately polished hardwood floors.. before landing on the carpet - being shoved, harshly, into a sitting position onto the cushioning.. legs spread and heat swelling just underneath your navel as your husband drapes himself along your lap - taking advantage of your position and pressing his crotch into your rather.. admittedly bare cock,,,

“Don't ask me about my day....” Refusing to elaborate, as it was sure to piss him off moreㅡinstead, burying his face in the crook of your neck and sucking aggressively just underneath your jaw; relishing in the taste of saltiness - a sheen of sweat coating your body.. you were so cute, already so hard for your husbandㅡhe shifts his hips forward, intentionally grinding, knowinglyㅡdressed in the cutest panties where your dick and balls had nowhere to hide.. “Just let yourself be used, y'hear me? M-My fucking boss got on my ass just becauseㅡargh!” He interrupts himself by pinching on your hardened buds - growing sensitive as you yelp in shock and mild pain; groping your chest so roughly and molding your flesh in his dainty hands..

Your eyes flicker toward the kitchenㅡthe goods in the oven, a bowl of batter unattended, an absolute messㅡof course, it's worth burning one batch of goods, no? You'll have those, while Seraphine has the good, flavorful unburnt ones… “Y-Yes, of course, honeyㅡplease, allow me toㅡ” He cuts your your meek voice off by standing and promptly shucking his pants off, followed by underwear - so belligerent with his movements..

“Hush for a moment.” He interrupts, rudely, a hissㅡyou adjust your legs underneath Seraphine as he sits back along your lap; dick twitching and aching in your sheer lace underwear at the thought of your darling husband being relieved of tension just because of you… it makes you all giddy..,, making you all hard, as you merely sit there with your thoughts. You were just a doting husband, you can't help yourself! W-With your beautiful, providing husband sitting so closely to your cock, practically sitting on itㅡ“So good for me… my good lil husband, always so compliant...” With a slight dash of annoyance to his cooing tone.. mishearing him, as you were too busy staring into his eyes and trying to ignore the ache between your legsㅡOf course, there was nothing to complain about.. surely not the sight of your husband's soaking wet pussy that he spreads with his digits before lowering, pressing ontoㅡgrinding against your barely clothed cock.. o-of course not, what could there be to complain about?!?! “Much better. This.. this is your best quality.” Seraphine muttered to himself mindlessly, letting his upper body relax; promptly groping at your cock with his pussy - mewling as you threw your head back against the couch, very much compliant, yes..

Burying his face in your chest again… tonguing your nipple before simply resting his head down, grinding his pussy on your erection to stimulate himself lazily… keeping still, trying to be good for himㅡwordlessly, as you shift underneath him, squirming… Seraphine attaching his lips all along your neck, marking you up for his pleasure of seeing… not to mention how you tasted on his tongue, and all.. breathless, as he worms a hand downward; grazing against your pre-cum weeping cock and sliding down his folds, “... doesn't have a cute little husband waiting for him at home as I do. I'm much better than everyone at work!!” y-you need to distract him.. take away his stress as his stay-at-home toy for just that.. your reach down; hand grasping his wrist bravely.

He grunts in displeasure as you slowly drag his fingers to your lips - shyly, carefully, just in case he would snap at youㅡbefore you begin lapping, licking in between his fingers before promptly pushing forward and sucking on his digitsㅡalmost cumming at his taste of salty mild bitterness. Seraphine hissed softly, before he gently tugs his fingers away, trailing his digits down your abdomenㅡbreathing shakilyㅡever so teasingly and gripping the fabric of your underwear where the swell of your cock bulged, begging to be free - before he rips them open; girth springing upward with vigor, you, hissing in mild pain before he was immediately jerking you off; dainty hand wrapped around your length and pumping dryly before he was rubbing his pussy and using it as a lotion - giving you no time to adjust to such pleasure before he was already spreading his pussy and promptly sinking downward on your lazily lubed up cockㅡa symphony of mewls, Seraphine's and yours combined - the feeling of your cock stretching his already loosened pussy, a mild sting that he adored;; settling on your girth with ease, nestlingㅡclit buried in your groin. With dainty hands groping at your chest - a tad softer than moments before, and rubbing your perky buds between his moist digits - merely poking at your body for his pleasureㅡfor fun.

“God, this is just.. the ultimate remedy for a stressful day...” he sinks completely, voice breaking off into a soft mewl as you fill him up so deeply; so fucking lovely you are - “I-I'm so glad you think so, my darling..” the corners of your lips up turning into a shy smile, face burning deep with the warmth of arousal nestling in your abdomen, cock throbbing inside the hot warmth of his soaking pussy,, god the thought of him using anything else but you to relieve stress damn near brings tears to your eyes. you wanna be there for him, every second - anywhere, really.. Your hand, shyly moving inward.

"T-Touch me, yes,” Seraphine commanded weakly, feeling a bit too stuffed as he angles backㅡhand eagerly worming in between your bodies and slowly edging downward and feeling around for his clit - humming in delight that sounded too much like a whine, as your saliva-slick thumb runs over his pearl; thumbing in small circles.. Seraphine's pussy clenched around your cock as he gasps mutely at the stimulation before he slowly gets into the rhythm of bouncing himself whilst you rubbed on his clit, utterly focused- wondering how good you were doing as your cock throbs inside him so good,,, ,, his good lil stress reliever, his good lil husband that he loves to suck on for dinner,,,, making him cum on your cock so dutifully, uncaring of your own pleasure - so focused on him that it makes him giddy as though he was fucking you for the first time again..,, making him cum over and over - cleaning him up, unconcerned with his snappy quips as you bathe him,,, letting him rest,,, so sweet you are to your husband.

[down-in-the-rainbow-square]

Remember that post that said u wanted to write that one, the reader goes into puppets/welcome home dimension?

I got u!

Can I request a Welcome home crew x reader, the reader from our world just looking at the website and suddenly blacks out. Then they open their eyes to see the puppets looking down at them! :D

Welcome Home x Reader - A Whole New World (and a Whole New Back Pain)

Not proofread! Thank you for the request! I'm definitely in my isekai sort of phase right now right x readers. For this one I'm just going to assume the reader hasn't discovered the hidden secrets of the website yet. Clown said we're only 5% in, so when we're closer to the end I'll do a remake with the reader knowing all the spooks and secrets (plus, it's really fun to just stick to the happy-go-lucky tune for now)!

I don't know what blacking out is like so I kind of just wrote random feelings instead. Hope that's okay!

P.S., This focuses more on Y/N than the characters but I'll make a sequel that focuses on them more!

Words: 1353

Type: Headcanons, platonic

Tw: food, mentioned kidnapping, mentioned death, injury

You were sitting at your desk when it happened. It was nearing sunset; a bowl of two-minute noodles sat cooling beside your laptop to serve as tonight's meal. Scrolling through social media, a sudden notification popped up on the screen. It was from a friend of yours.

Opening the message up, it read, "hey! Check out this website I found!" Attached to the message was a link to a cheerful looking website. Your friend described it as the link to an old and near-forgotten puppet show your parents had taped on VHS. You used to watch it together when you were really young, apparently.

Opening it up, you were sent to a title screen of sorts. It featured a little red house with a blue roof and yellow chimney. The website invited you to click on it. Doing so, you were revealed the real meat of what was inside.

The next half-hour or so was spent perusing the website. Some of the characters vaguely rang a bell; you remembered something about a guy called Frank, but you also thought there was a child, so perhaps you were making it all up. Maybe that was Wally.

Eventually, though, you were hit with a sudden drowsiness and a sick, twisting feeling in your stomach. Assuming hunger pains, you reach for you food on the desk. It would have gone completely cold, but you would have to deal with it. Fork in hand, you lifted it up to your mouth only to-

Only to wake up in bed. Strange; you never remembered going to sleep. The last thing you remembered doing was getting bad hunger pains and eating your noodles. Though you assumed you had just passed out in bed and not remembered anything.

You rolled around in bed. You were too tired to get up just now. You were about to drift off to sleep when you heard something - or someone.

"They're waking up!"

What in the hell?!

You instantly bolted upright only to be hit with a horrible pain in your spine that sent you back down again. Groaning in pain, you rolled over onto your side and opened your eyes to see... People? No. Monsters? Maybe. No, they were definitely puppets.

Looking up, you saw you were surrounded by them. They were all different shapes, colours, and sizes, but shared the same look: concern. Concern for your wellbeing or concerned because their meal just woke up you didn't know, but you didn't plan on staying for long enough to find out.

Again, you tried to sit up, ignoring the excruciating pain in your lower back. It was then that you realised this was also not your bed you were in. No, this was much larger than you could afford and had a red wood frame with feathers carved into the head.

Your first thought is that you've been kidnapped. Your second thought is you've been kidnapped by puppets. Instantly, you try to heave your way off the bed, only to be caught by a pair of arms. Well, two pairs of arms, actually.

"Hey, hey! Calm down!" Looking up, you saw a tall, green puppet looking down at you. He slowly placed you back down on the bed. Taking a closer look at his facial expression, he almost looked scared.

"Wh- what are you?" you whispered. You didn't care if it sounded rude, you'd rather be rude than clueless.

"I could ask you the same question." You turned to look at the source of the noise to see a different puppet. He was of medium height (for the puppets, of course) and had grey skin. Or felt, for that matter.

"What?" you replied.

"Well," the puppet began, "for someone who fell out of the sky, you sure seem fine."

Fell out of the sky? What was this guy on about?

"Wait, I what?" you asked. The puppets shared a look.

"You don't remember?" another puppet asked. He was about the same height as the grey puppet, but had yellow skin and red hair. "There was a lot of yelling."

"There was?"

Safe to say, you were confused. How could you have fallen out of the sky and not remember? Unless you suffered some kind of head trauma, which would explain why your back was in such pain. But if you truly fell from the sky, wouldn't you be dead?

Eventually the puppets managed to calm you down enough for you to not try to run every chance you got. They told you their names, and you told them yours in return.

There was Howdy, the one who had stopped you from running away and hurting yourself; Frank, the grey one who had told you what happened; Julie, the one who had come to help you first; Poppy, whose bed you woke up in and who cared for you while you were out; Eddie, who was the first to actually notice something falling from the sky; Barnaby, who had carried you to Poppy; Sally, who had kept the morale up for the other puppets while you were out; and Wally, who had assisted in taking care of you.

You found them all to be very interesting in both their appearances and personalities. Sally, who you had been informed was once the brightest star in the entire sky, was a rambunctious, creative soul always ready for an adventure and new ideas. She often proposed imaginative but impractical solutions to your back problem.

There was Julie, a kind and fun puppet with long blonde hair. She was always playing some sort of game, or editing one to allow you to join, even when you didn't quite trust her. Her favourite to play with you was Patty Cake, because it was simple and could be repeated as many times as she wanted. Sally liked to join in on that one for the singing. You were surprised she knew what it was.

But no matter how intriguing you found the puppets; they were always more fascinated by you. They constantly asked you questions about who you were, where you lived, what life was like. Howdy was very interested in the 'Click and Collect' system you had at your local supermarket. The ability to know someone's order beforehand without even a telephone was incredible to him.

Frank was by far the most interested. He was always asking you questions while you rested in Poppy's bed. At one point he left for about fifteen minutes before coming back with a whole bookshelf's worth of books. How he managed to carry it without breaking apart you had no idea, but he looked strained.

Frank had sat the books on the floor and started going through each one, repeating his questions only to throw the book away when it didn't match what you said. He ended up with every book thrown in the messy pile by the end of it and was quite angry.

Everyone was surprised with how similar but how different your worlds were. Things like recipes, games, and speech were all the same and yet you had all this technology they didn't, and they had whole species you didn't. Howdy was shocked to know he could never exist in your world, and Sally was upset to learn that she would only ever be a ball of gas (though she felt a bit better when you mentioned how huge they were).

But more than anything they were surprised with you. The first time they saw you eat was fascinating. Sure, (for the sake of the television show) they can eat, but not like that. What you were doing was just plain weird by their standards, with your odd moving of these 'muscles'. Wally had asked you what you were doing with your mouth and was shocked (and a little disgusted) to see your teeth.

The day seemed to go on forever in this little town you were informed was called Home. Poppy was too big for her couch, but refused to move you, so you ended up sleeping next to her. It was comfy, if not a little suffocating.

I'll be making a part 2 for this!

[dovithedarklord]

Stucked - Part 7

You're trapped in a game and a new threat is lurking.

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Pairing: John "Soap" MacTavish x reader, Simon "Ghost" Riley x reader, König x reader

Tags: Mentions of death, Mentions of blood and gore, Blood and Violence, Sexual Scenes, Alternate Universe, No use of Y/N, Not Beta Read, AFAB Reader

Trigger Warning: Contains blood and gore, violence, injury, some body horror, and drugging. Please, keep that in mind!

⚠️MDNI⚠️

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Author's Note

The climax of the story is getting closer and closer, and now you meet someone who knows what kind of place you're stuck in.

Hello!

Sorry for the long delay, but I was finally able to get back to writing! The story is slowly coming to an end and the last important character enters.

Have fun! :D

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

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The eerie silence of the forest penetrates every unprotected pore of your cold body like a latent sickness, as if the ominous uneventfulness would be a precursor to a deadly disease that can push you into a sick bed festering with ulcers at any moment. And you know that this calmness is only a fleeting mirage, because in every dark corner, in every hidden hole, something terrible can be lurking, which can ruin the unsettling ease with which you fled from your pursuers. Even though you're surrounded by the soft breeze of the night, the sighs of the branches dancing in the wind passing through the trees, the frightened shuffling noises of the feet of animals coming to life under the dead leaves, and even though the owls try to lull your suspicions with their melancholic songs, you already know this horrible prison all too well. And thanks to the last few hours, you won't make the mistake of trusting in its mercy again. Because in this fever dream, there is no benevolence, no compassion, only survival. And you do everything to win, because there is no other way out.

The time you spent wandering in the woods in the pitch-black night seems endless, and even though you know you're far away from the lake and the deformed creatures that turned the water into a putrid graveyard, the dull stabbing pain in your lungs reminds you of with what hurry you managed to disappear from the watchful eyes. You were just a hair's breadth away from being caught in the violent embrace of a beast, and if you hadn't found the pearls, you wouldn't have had a chance to make that daring escape with which you threw yourself into the thick of the forest before. 

If you had any hopeful foolishness left in you, you'd think the game had given up on its cruel pursuit of fun and finally presented you with a generous gift. But you know that this goddamn purgatory feeds on the sweet nectar of suffering and will do everything to squeeze every last drop of luscious misery out of your flesh and bones. And as it flashes before your mind's eye, how the red and purple stains of the damaged blood vessels drawn into the tissues disappeared from your leg following the cool caress of the beads, you become more and more certain that it was all just a morbid coincidence. Maybe even this nightmare-like torture chamber can make a mistake, because you doubt that it offered you this miracle voluntarily. Like when a bug appears in a video game, causing the world embedded in pixels to slip for a moment, and through the distorted chaos, the system reveals secrets that you should have never seen. And maybe it did. Maybe this diabolical place is finally starting to crumble under the weight of its own evil. 

But you know that now is not the time to ponder how the well-known hell will turn into a completely new kind of horror, because you only need to take a look at the map resting in your hand to know what your task is. On the yellowed page, the unknown gray building stands out with such definite outlines, as if someone had painted it there with liquid metal, and for a minute the sharp lines of the rough sketch seem to dance in front of your tired eyes. While trekking through the wild vegetation, you had time to decide where your path should lead you next, and although the knife-like anxiety in the depths of your stomach relentlessly pumps the warning acid of uneasiness into your limbs, you're aware that this new location didn’t appear without purpose. There's something there that makes this place important enough to have a prominent spot on the map, and that's enough reason for you to risk another disastrous adventure. After all, you have nothing to lose, right? A new killer, a new death, another damn mark on your skin, but a chance to find an exit. And at this point, you're ready to seize anything to get out of here.

It's almost cartoonishly comical, the way a small blood-red line on the stained page traces your journey so far, like a path sketched up with a crayon in the middle of the splotch-like woods, and this small detail only makes you even more certain that you're stuck in a grotesque game. The system keeps track of your progress, and although the knowledge that you cannot hide from the invisible gaze only increases the uncomfortable tightness in your chest, for once this atrocity has at least some benefits. For the dull edge of the gray building emerges with an uncanny glow from behind the dense curtain of foliage and branches, like a glimmering fragment of the imagination that may fade away at any moment. Even though the game follows your every move, it helped you to reach this point, and you're terribly grateful for it.

You keep your eyes fixed on the slowly approaching house with an unbroken focus as you carefully thread through the thicket of dry bushes, and it’s only due to random luck that you catch on your periphery those tiny, uncertain little blobs that rest serenely on one of the nearby trees. And when your brain finally registers the stimuli, you suddenly halt in your march, as if an unknown force had severed the nerve fibers wiring your muscles. There is something sickeningly familiar in the way the small human-like figures sway between the withered branchlets, and it dawns on you a few seconds later why your mind thought it was important to stop here. Because you saw the same dolls made of sticks at the shrine, where the map was waiting for you, and no matter how much this is a sure sign that you're moving in the right direction, you're unable to banish the instinctive sinister feeling stirring in your brain cells. At first, you thought that maybe they had erected that hideous monument in honor of the tentacled creature that lived in the lake, but now you know that they wanted to pay homage to something completely different. And whatever that unknown entity is, it doesn't bode well for you if teeth pulled from jaws, brown with blood, and clumps of hair lead to its grace.

But a completely new kind of confusion comes over you when you shift your attention from the sprawling tangle of dead twigs and finally spot the boot lying on the ground, almost hidden under the dry crown of curled leaves surrounding it. Perhaps you could chalk it up to a morbid coincidence, a background element without meaning, which fades into oblivion eventually, but the game has engraved in your mind with blood and pain that nothing here is just an insignificant detail. And as you step closer and examine the forgotten footwear, you discover those tiny, white shards on the faded leather covered in muddy dirt, which shine under the filtering moonlight like glitter. However, there is something quite unsettlingly velvety in the way the crushed pieces stand out from the grimy material, and as your vision finally sharpens enough to recognize the tiny red specks between the zig-zagged edges, you know what sits so innocently on the surface of the boot. Small pieces of grounded bones, which cover the abandoned object as if someone sprinkled it with granulated sugar. And this makes your stomach turn with such an elemental force that you stagger back from the horrible surprise, as if the very sight of it could breathe death into your cells. Because however that bone dust ended up on that unfortunate shoe, you don't want to suffer the same fate as its owner.

However, you’re jolted out of your stupor by an unexpected crack, which deafeningly pierces into the motionless quite between the tree trunks, and you crumple the map deep into your pocket with reflexive panic and turn in the direction of the noise, as if someone was pulling you on a string. And a completely impossible relief ripples through you, loosening the tennis ball size knot your stomach has shrunk into, as you find yourself face to face with an old woman, who freezes with her wicker basket full of chopped-up wood clutched to her chest, her face pale with a look of horrified shock like yours. You see the fright reflected in her eyes, as she looks you over slowly, and the thought arises in you that maybe you yourself might not present a more inviting sight than the boots. Because although the mementos of your wounds, colored with bruises, have disappeared, your dirty, wet clothes clung to your battered, paralyzed body, and at this moment you're quite sure that with your eyes widened with fear, you must remind her of a trapped wild animal.

A torturous, tense moment of stillness passes, and when you see the frail, worn-out old figure relax, anxiety releases its grip on your insides as well, and you let out the breath that has been trapped in the supple prison of your lungs with painful tension until now.

"Oh my… are you all right, sweetheart?" Comes the sincere question in a strangely accented voice, and the tenderness in her words hits you completely unprepared. And although an intimate, motherly concern moves between her features, as her thinning eyebrows meet under her gray hair with worry, you still can't suppress the flicker of doubt that whispers from the back of your skull to be careful. You don't dare to trust anything anymore, and a stranger rarely means good in this damn world. Yet, your tortured soul yearns for the tiniest spark of humanity with such pitiful force, that you involuntary let your spine loosen the painful stiffness that resides in it.

"I'm lost." You answer, carefully rolling the syllables on your tongue, savoring the caution that instinctively settles in your mouth and restrains your sociability. Although the woman seems defenseless, you already know how unnoticed a beast can hide behind the mask of sweet kindness. At best, she’s an insignificant NPC, an additional character who merely fills the void, who, like Pam and Rebecca, is condemned to eternal death, and waits unsuspectingly for the killer to appear to strip her of her aged flesh. And you want to hope that she's just a helpless puppet of the storyline and not another threat, because you want more than anything to have someone else suffer instead of you finally. Because you lost the compassion that would be appalled at this thought long ago.

"How about you come to my house?" She makes the timid offer, and as her gaze catches the thick layer of mud embedded in your T-shirt, you can see how her mouth curls into a line full of doubts. As if she would understand without asking any questions, that you've been through an endless hell that has soaked itself into your pores through the soft cotton, and can't be expressed with words. "I'll find you something warm to put on." She adds, and you feel the awareness with which she tries to dispel the restless rigidity radiating from her to not frighten you. As if she were talking to a trapped fawn, which would be able to take flight at the slightest thoughtless move, even if its shackles would flay its legs, trapped between the razor-sharp metal, alive in the process. And it makes you realize how pitiful it is, that the events of the never-ending night transformed you into a raw, pulsating nerve so easily. But you suspect that this is what has kept you alive until now.

Although the suspicion of the stranger has already settled into the depths of your consciousness, you still make yourself nod, because even if you don't know the woman and have no idea what might be hiding behind the defenseless exterior, you're aware that you're serving yourself as easy prey for the monsters in the forest.  And you know it's only a matter of time before they catch a scent and appear breathing down on your neck.

"Alright... Come on, I don't live far from here!" She motions towards the building resting in the distance with her head, and you immediately know where her home could be. And if you had doubts, now you're quite sure, you've become involved in a new storyline, no matter how accidental this unexpected meeting seems. The game can always surprise you with new horrors, but as merciless as this world is, it's also as predictable. Because it's addicted to its habits, and you have learned to interpret its hidden signs. There are no coincidences, only tools that lead to your doom. And if you were already on your way to another trouble, then you let yourself be lead into its open mouth.

She hesitates for a few seconds, waiting to see if you change your mind and retreat into the desolate depths of the forest, but when you continue to stare at her like statue frozen in place, she turns around with the ghost of a small smile on her face, and beckoning you with her knobby fingers, she aks you to follow her. And you join her a moment later, keeping that respectful distance that speaks more to the mistrust swirling in your belly than to the thoughtfulness you feel for her. Perhaps an onlooker would think that you're just a scared little girl tagging along with her in the maze of tree trunks, but you feel the energy slithering through your legs, ready to run off at the very first odd move. You may be a slow learner, but you could repeat this lesson even after waking up from a dream. Don't let yourself be fooled. Because you've outlined the ideal possibility, but even the whirlwind of your imagination cannot authentically paint the worst-case scenario for you.

After a few meters spent in wordless peace, as the last remnants of the wild vegetation, frozen from the autumn cold, disappears, the concrete building, for which you decided to drag yourself through the goddamn forest, emerges almost abnormally in the small clearing. It stands out from the dark foliage as strikingly as an old silver ring forgotten in a black velvet box, and there is something quite unsettling about the way the tiny windows stare down at you from the monotonous walls. Like hungry mouths, waiting for a victim that they can grind up with their glimmering glass teeth. And you notice, what grotesque similes your brain is making, but you're unable to suppress the voice in your head that tells you, that there is no one in this artificial world who would call this their home with peace of mind. Because the structure looks more like a slaughterhouse with its inhospitable, barren frame, on which the holes from the crumbling plaster and the dry carpet of faded lichens bordering them gape like scars left behind by smallpox. The building may have been standing here since the game's universe was created, and in light of this, it’s even more baffling to you why it appeared only now.

But you can't ponder on that now, because you reach the house, and the old woman hurries to the shabby entrance with an agility that belies her age, pushing in the thick wooden panel covered with flaking red paint with a light movement, and opens the door of her home to you with the same helpfulness with which she led you here until now. Even though she doesn't say a word, you still understand the gentle plea with which she invites you in, because you see the worried light dancing in her eyes, with which she examines the uncertainty glued onto your features. And you want to believe in this softness more than anything, but what helps your leaden legs move the most is the knowledge that you know you can't turn back. Because Johnny and Simon are out there looking for you, and even if you were to avoid them, you'd already delved into a new thread of events. And you fear how the game would punish you if you were to deny its generous gift. Therefore, gathering all your remaining composure, you force the faint curve of a weak smile into the corner of your mouth and head towards the interior of the house, fighting the instinctive feeling that makes it seem like you're walking straight through the entrance to the scene of your execution.

As you cross the threshold made of rickety boards, the characteristic smell of old houses snakes into your nose, the fusty stench of moisture that has soaked into the walls over the decades and the stale essence of powdery, old perfumes, which awakens nostalgia in you with an almost visceral force. And there is something extremely homely about the old chest of drawers, forgotten in the small hall, and about the lace tablecloth spread on the top of it, chewed by time, on which a bouquet of worn plastic flowers sits in a glass vase, like the last witnesses of a couple of long gone, sentimental memories. The old nick-nacks accumulated over the years rests in neat order, and even on the walls, the frames, covered with pale gold, hang with measured precision, with black and white photos of unknown people in them, testifying that perhaps, according to the story, the woman might not have lived here alone once. They looking into the camera with blank expressions on their grim faces, and you swear that they're staring into your soul with their dull, dot-like eyes.

And when the woman rushes past you towards the inside of the house, disrupts the thin layer of dust that settles on the worn surface of the furniture, and as the musty smell traveling with the tiny particles settles into your nose, it occurs to you that, despite the homely atmosphere, it's as if no more than a few stray ghosts would actually live here. And your subconscious warns you about this small intuition, which makes you sneak after your host with careful cat-like steps, like a curious child who knows she's straying into an area that adults have told her a thousand times not to venture near to.

The lamp hanging from the ceiling is the only source of light as you enter the kitchen after the the old woman, and the light bulb casts filmy, yellow rays from under the milk-like porcelain onto the battered furnishings of the little room. She’s already busying herself, and shoves chopped pieces of wood into the dilapidated stove, scaly with peeling white paint, glancing over her shoulder as she hears the shuffling of your shoes on the worn linoleum.

"Sit down, I'll make you some tea to warm you up!" She speaks up, and by now all uncertainty has disappeared from her voice, giving the impression that it was not a torn stranger, but an old friend who appeared in front of her humble abode in the middle of the night. And, as she digs out an ancient teapot from one of the cupboards, and the faucet turns on with a loud creak, as she steps to the sink and fills it with water, you wonder what will come next. Now you can't rely on your routine, with which you were able to tell exactly which breath followed the other in the cabin, and this creates an uncomfortable, gaping hole in your insides. And that sends a robotic rigidity into your limbs as you walk over to the table in the middle of the kitchen and settle down in one of the thick oak armchairs, because fear begins to twist in the bottomless pit that anxiety has opened in you, as your eyes scan the room for danger. You should feel bad that you're so persistently looking for a trap in the woman's hospitality, but you have experienced firsthand how big a mistake it is when you let yourself to be overconfident.

"A few minutes and it's done." She comments on her haste, and turning towards you, she leans against the shabby kitchen counter, finding you with her searching gaze again. Now that you have entered the scene of another dangerous mission, your consciousness automatically accepts the stimuli that your brain may have tried to push away until now. And you see the sparks of interest swimming through the pools of her eyes, but despite the soft expression still sitting on the worn face, the stress is too strong for you to let your guard down. You'd like to think that only your paranoia brings out this visceral suspicion, but you're smarter than that. "How did you get lost?" She formulates the completely legitimate question, and your ear once again discovers the accent that, despite the light tone, gives her words harshness. As if tiny little pebbles would be gurgling in her mouth, making every consonant flow out a little harder from her paper-thin lips. Maybe Russian?

"We just went for a walk with my friends. I lost them." You finally break your silence with a half-truth, which is just honest enough so that your tone is not colored by the sound of lies. You have no reason to tell her what happened during the endless torture of the past hours, and you have a gut feeling that it wouldn't help you if you mentioned to her what kind of monsters this demonic place has entwined your fate with.

And when the telltale shadows of doubt creep across the old face, you become quite sure that you have made the right decision. You can tell from the little quiver that makes the corner of her mouth twitch that she doesn't believe you, but there's just enough goodwill in her not to try to inquire further. You see how suddenly her throat jumps as she swallows the demanding questions, and you're quite sure that she knows exactly what happened to you. She must have resided in the middle of the forest long enough to know its every evil nook and cranny, and you doubt that her innocent facade is what has kept her alive. Whatever the purpose of this storyline, it is not a coincidence that she lives here in the middle of nowhere, and there is even less chance that it was thanks to some harmless tricks that helped her home to stay so undisturbed. This also raises a series of dangerous assumptions in you, and you can almost feel how the buzzing of suspicion in your head sharpens as a result.

A sudden whistle interrupts the thread of your thoughts sinking into ever darker pits, and the woman, breaking your silent examination, settles back into her caring role, turning to the teapot angrily steaming on the stove amid soft curses. And you take advantage of this to explore the hidden corners of the room, searching for small signs that can reveal what you're dealing with. It’s quite obvious that another important clue will be hidden here, and you have to do everything you can to find it, because you don't know how much time you have until the two men or another killer find you, one who has been lying dormant waiting for the opportunity to play with you until now.

And now that you take a closer look at the room, you discover more and more little details you missed when you wandered in here. You can see the touch of old hands in the order that resides in the small hole of the kitchen, but you can spot the silky blanket of spider webs that weave the plates decorated with flowers on the shelves, as if no one has used them for decades. There are rich bouquets of dried plants hung on nails on the wall, but below them, you can clearly make out the yellowed newspaper articles written in a language unknown to you, on which the same black and white people you saw in the hall look back at you. And when you squint and try to observe the figure emerging from under the withered flowers of one of the herbs, you see how a little boy, dressed in old-fashioned clothes, is cut through by the unknown mark, which almost decapitates him with the edges engraved with graphite. At first, the drawing may seem like a simple scribble, but you recognize the needle-sharp points of a star in it, as if someone had carved a grotesque crosshair there…

The knocking of the mug's porcelain jolts you out of your investigation, and you wince with the surprise of a small child caught in mischief, turning your gaze back to the woman, who takes her seat across from you with a much tighter smile than before. And the tenderness on her face turns into something completely cold, as if only habit would keep the friendly curl in the corners of her mouth in place, and the softness that used to be able to inspire sympathy in your soul has disappeared from them. Now her expression transforms into sharp lines, which are deepened into gloomy furrows by the yellow light filtering down from the lamp, as if would the woman transform into someone completely different in an instant. Someone you shouldn't be around.

"Drink up. It will help." She pushes the cup towards you, and you know it's not just your ears when you feel the impatient tone in her voice, from which the offer sounds more like an instruction than a well-meaning nagging. And you don't react for a tense moment, and despite the anxiety churning in your stomach, you try to keep your cool, because now you recognize the fleeting shadow that hides under the gentle warmth. Like a hawk waiting to strike, she follows your movements as you wrap your fingers around the handle of the mug, but she can no longer deceive you, because you've seen the same expression before. Although it's not Johnny's handsome face and the sparks of his sky-blue eyes that want to divert the suspicion that is scratching your insides, the disguise of an old woman feigning cordial concern would just as effectively put anyone's doubts to sleep. But she can put on any mask, you're already able to distinguish the vileness under the sickly sweet surface. And this woman wants to hurt you, you're sure of that.

Still, you pull the steaming beverage in front of you with almost automatic movements, trying with every cell not to let her figure out that you suspect something. You need her to reveal herself, because that's how you can get her to lead you to the clues that can get you out of here. There is something hidden in this damned house, and you feel it in your bones that it’s important to find out what it is. All your fake innocence seeps into the way you touch your mouth to the porcelain, and the luscious scent of herbs and fruits snakes into your nose. And although you don't feel the sting of poison in the steamy clouds rising from the tea, it fills you with a bad foreboding when the woman leans forward with artificial benevolence frozen on her face, watching with almost intrusive interest how you start sipping the hot liquid. And you feel more and more tense with each passing second, like an ant stuck under a magnifying glass, which has just begun to feel how the rays of the sun breaking through the lens burn its legs into charcoal stubs. And you see the dissatisfaction when you hesitantly lower the cup.

"Drink it all. You need it." She encourages you, almost cooing, and her accent is more reminiscent of an impatient mother who tries to dictate medicine to her protesting child with a barely controlled temper. Gentle, but just as much as boiling water forgotten under the lid. And you feel how the little hairs rise on the nape of your neck, as her glassy eyes fixate on you with unblinking persistence.

Uncertain silence settles in the tiny kitchen, which makes the saliva in your mouth thicken into molasses as you return the woman's stare. Under the flickering light of the old bulb, everything seems to change, and out of the corner of your eye, it looks as if the flowers painted on the wall would turn into wax, dripping off the plaster dirty from grease. But you’re unable to turn your gaze away from her, as she studies you with the immobility of a predator, and you have to forcefully suppress the trembling that awakes in your hands as you raise the mug to your lips and take another small sip. And the excited light that passes over her features does’t escape your attention for a minute, as she follows the almost painfully sweet liquid traveling down your throat. And now you're sure that no matter how harmless this elderly woman seems, evil is hidden under her frail frame. Because the pearls hidden in your pockets come to life with an almost warning glow, as the strange, bitter aftertaste sits on your taste buds, which the sugar has been able to suppress until now.

Under the pulsation of the little red spheres, the light buzz, that the brew wants to envelop your brain in, has no chance of spreading, but you know you have to pretend that she was successful, whatever she smuggled into your drink. Because there's a reason why she's trying to knock you out, and maybe if you make her believe that you let her trick you like an unsuspecting fool, then she'll reveal what she's up to. That's why you let the fatigue throbbing in your limbs creep onto the fibers of your muscles, numb with lactic acid, and you let the exhausted yawn loose that, now that you're finally resting, falls through your mouth sincerely. And you hear that satisfied little hum with which the woman finally leans back, when she assesses the unexpected force of the sleepiness washing over you.

"Perhaps it would be best if you stayed here for the night." She offers, and there is nothing to unsure about the way she presents her proposal to you. A selflessly offered opportunity, behind which lies a statement to which no opposition is expected. And it’s exactly this determination that dispels the previous softness, and fills her old joints with an almost youthful energy, when she springs up and starts towards the kitchen door, giving you one last, almost painfully fond look. "You just stay here and rest." She adds, and you feel nauseous from the kindness under which the poison of cruelty ripples, and which creeps into your ear canals with snide unsolicitedness.

When, after an uncertain nod, you lay your head down on the table with languid weakness, she hurries away towards the maze of the corridor giggling, with such immense glee, as if an unexpected present had fallen into her lap. And you, closing your eyes, order every part of your body to remain motionless in anticipation, slowing your breathing to a trembling evenness, listening through your own shivering for the woman's footsteps. You have to remain unnoticed because you're sure that if she realizes that her tea has failed to relax you enough, she'll come up with something much more painful to get the desired effect. You're not sure what her goal is, but you don't have time to create unnecessary excitement for yourself.

For minutes, only the soft puffs of the air flowing through your nose fill the room shrouded in an almost disturbing quietness, but despite your pulse pounding in your ears with an almost deafening noise, you wait until all the sounds die down between the old walls. And when you decide that you have wasted enough time, you carefully push yourself away from the worn furniture and stand up with your eyes fixed on the shadows beyond the door, watching for an unexpected visitor with every move you make. But, when nothing happens, and only the low buzzing of the light bulb and the hooting of the owls filtering in from outside travel through the empty house, then you sneak towards the hallway.

As you step out onto the corridor, it takes a few uncertain seconds for your eyes to get used to the dense darkness, and when you're finally able to make out the pitch-black outlines of the furniture, you set off into the unknown. The age-old parquet floor creaks under your shoes, reminiscent of the soft squealing of a mouse, and with each step you take, the presentiment tightens its grip on your insides. Because you have no idea where the old woman could have gone, and the fact that she can appear from behind any of the doors lined up next to each other is just enough to awaken the needle-like prickling of stress in your muscles. As if a thousand tiny ants would be crawling under your skin, and clenching your teeth, you fight the tempting compulsion to escape. You know you're wading into the swampy abyss of certain danger, but you also know you have no other choice. And not finding a clue is not an option. You have to move on or you'll be stuck here forever.

You wouldn't be able to tell how deep you ventured into the uninhabited house, but everything turns into an unsettling uniformity as a dull entrance follows another insignificant door, and the pictures hanging on the walls serve as your only companions in your wanderings.The lifeless eyes following you send shivers down your spine involuntarily, because although they're nothing more than the imprints of strangers lingering in the past, yet there is something bleak in the faces of the people on them. But when you discover something familiar, you stop dead in your tracks to take a closer look at the many of photos hidden in the frames, and you don't have to think long to recognize the boy from the kitchen. Although he may be much older here, and the childish roundness of his face has already been banished by the hormones of adolescence, but the light eyes stare at you with the same stern expressionlessness as they did from the shadows of the herbs. There is something hard in them, something angry, lurking beneath the frozen stillness, waiting to strike. And the longer you stare, the more the unpleasant feeling intensifies in you, which plants the impossible idea in your mind that the next moment he will come to life and, reaching through the scratched glass, wraps his pale, thin fingers around your neck.

A thunder-like bang tears into the empty quiet of the building, and you, shaking in terror, break out of your paranoia-woven imagination to spin around and start searching for the noise with the alarm of a frightened animal. And when the sounds don't die down, but are enriched by the clanking of a chain and the murmur of a muffled conversation, then you come upon the worn door, ajar, on the tattered surface of which a star-like scribble greets you, roughly sketched up with blood-red paint, the same that someone drew on the boy in the newspaper article. And you become aware with an uncomfortable certainty that the game has finally revealed your next destination to you, no matter how much every cell of yours protests against venturing towards the source of the increasingly loud clamor.

Every single nerve of yours tenses as one, as you move closer, keeping your eyes fixed on the cracked varnish clinging to the wooden surface, considering each step before the next, and the closer you stray, the sharper the violently snapping words become, and even though you don't understand them, you can feel the simmering ire in them. You open the door with your trembling fingers wrapped around the doorknob, and the saliva crawls down your dry throat almost like shards of glass, when you try to dispel the lump that has grown there. But nothing welcomes you, only a set of stairs covered in faint light, which leads you down into the uncertain darkness, and you feel the force of fear twisting your guts, as you muster up your courage and set off to the rickety steps.

The lower you go, the wider the hidden world of the basement opens up in front of you, and the more painful the horrible smell, mixture of the sweet stench of rot and the sting of sweat, pierces your nose. With each breath, the stagnant, moldy air penetrates deeper into your lungs, and if your brain weren't occupied by terror, you would wonder what kind of disease you're filling your chest with so voluntarily. Although to your own ears, every noise your shoes mak on the old stairs is ear-splitting, you know, even through the uncontrollably roaring fear inside you, that the sounds of your arrival will be drowned out by the wild discussion unfolding on the other side of the wall bordering the stairs. You recognize the woman's voice in the furious foreign expressions, but that's not what makes you halt hesitantly on the last step. It's that unexpected, raspy male baritone that stops the momentum of your curiosity from taking you any further, because even though you can't see the face associated with it, you feel the deadly threat traveling in the growl-like rumble.

"ублюдок!" The woman erupts, and even you cringe instinctively from the caustic rage that sits in her tone. "You ungrateful wretch!" She spits in a way that you finally can understand, and you hear the crunch of the dirt and dust sliding under her shoes as she take a step forward, as if she were moving closer to someone, but further away from your impromptu hiding place. "I should have let them take you!" The end of the heated cursing snaps, and with this the stormy exchange of words turns into painful silence, as if the shadows hiding on the dirty floor had absorbed not only the rays of the faintly flickering light, but also the sounds. And from this, even you know that something came out of the woman's mouth that shouldn't have.

The basement falls into an icy stillness, and the tiny hairs on your skin rise as you lean against the wall and listen, wondering if you made a mistake by coming down here. However, as your frightened eyes wander around the dimly lit room, you discover something in one corner that catches your eye with its golden glow. And you lean forward like someone who has been mesmerized, trying to decipher through the dying light of the old bulb hanging on the ceiling, what might be hiding in one of the shelves under the piled-up, dusty mountain of junk. And the relieved joy that washes over you when you notice the lost key that leads to Johnny's attic, is almost ridiculous, and for a fleeting moment, you're sure that it's just your eyes playing games with you. But the tiny little object winks back at you with an unmoving serenity a few long seconds later, and you already know what your task is.

"Oh, my little boy... don't be angry! Mommy loves you, you know that, right?" You hear the apologetic shush, and you're filled with an ominous feeling as you lean forward from behind the wall, clinging to the crumbling bricks, to see how safe it is to get the key. And your eyebrows knot together in confusion when you're greeted by nothing more than the old woman, who, stepping towards one of the dark corners, spreads her arms as if waiting for someone to fall into her arms. Although at first, you're sure that age and loneliness have warped her mind so much that she imagines one of her loved ones in the shadows, but as your gaze falls on the mattress, brown with dirt, lying by the wall, and the plates soiled from the rotting leftover food, you dismiss your naive assumption. Someone is here, and based on the dried, yellowish stains on the torn bedsheet, they weren't forced to retreat here now. But you don't care about that. Whoever is imprisoned here, you're not here to help them.

"I found a new friend for you... She is much prettier than the previous ones! You want to see her, don't you? If you're a good boy, I'll bring her down for you... You do as mommy says, yes?" The woman continues, mumbling the kind words with an almost atoning tenderness, and it becomes painfully clear that whatever lives down here, this old bitch tried to drug you because of it. And when you remember the boot sprinkled with bone dust found in the forest, you banish the idea of thinking about what could have happened to those who were dragged down here before you. You have more important things to do than brood over the deaths of imaginary strangers… as cruel as that may sound.

But just as you finally take the first brave step and leave your hideout with careful stealth, the chain rattle comes to life again, and you freeze, forgetting about the key, when a dull crack silences the old hag. Like when a ripe, juicy melon cracks and splits into two when a knife sinks into it, but deep down you know that it's not fruit juice you hear splashing on the floor in fat drops. And you're unable to resist the pull of fear, which draws you in the direction of the noise against your will, but as soon as you see the woman slowly staggering back from the dark corner, you immediately regret giving in to the impulse. Because when your eyes find the handle of the large knife protruding from her head, you clamp your hands to your mouth, trying to force back the horrified scream that rises in your throat. 

The woman clumsily stumbles backward, and you see the uncertain surprise in the trembling hands with which she reaches for her hair, slowly covered into a crimson veil from the blood, touching the wooden handle almost in disbelief. And there is something quite pitiful in the way she turns around in confusion, amidst frightened whimpers, brushing away the strands stuck to her eyes by the red streams running down her forehead. And you, swallowing the bitter taste on your tongue, take a terrified step back, as you suddenly see how impossibly tight the skin clings to the edges of the bones emerging from the sunken face, as if a parasite were about to break through a thin membrane. The pale tissues look unsettlingly papery, and you have a lingering fear that the dull, matte white of her jaw might penetrate them at any moment, as the woman's mouth opens in a silent scream. Unfocused eyes find you, and you're horrified to realize that maybe she wants to ask for help when she wobbles towards you with shaky legs, but you're frozen in terror, as you stare at her motionless, like a deer stuck in the headlights of a car. And you watch in shock, when after what seems like eternity, she, with a gurgling rattle, finally sprawls out on the dusty ground, like a sack full of rotten potatoes.

"You're finally here." You hear the hoarse voice from before, and as you look for its owner in terror, you see how a strong figure emerges from the darkness of the shadows, dragging the heavy shackle of the chain hanging from his thick neck behind him with a metallic clang. But what worries you even more than the muscles hidden under the torn clothes, is the pair of impossibly blue eyes that emerge from under the mask covering the unknown man's face, which look at you with cheerful interest, as if he had found a small bird with a broken wing. And from the cruelty glimmering in them, it immediately becomes painfully clear that he is the kind of person who would rip your wings out by the stem to free you from suffering. "I was waiting for you, Bunny."

(ублюдок (ublyudok) - bastard).

[sanjisluvbot]

Isekai Yandere Strawhats x Black Fem Reader pt 6

Masterlist

1 2 3 4 5 6

The battle came and went and soon you were off on the next adventure Punk Hazard. You decided to spend your time bonding with the crew, learning their likes and dislikes that were never shown in Sbs. You also spent more time with Robin in the library, although this time you were more carefully in how you spoke to her and how you picked your books.

Robin was very cunning and she was someone you needed to make sure was completely thrown off your radar. Knowing that Robin also spent her time reading was difficult because that meant you didn’t know when she was paying attention to you and when she wasn’t, especially with knowing she was all seeing.

You started reading random books, books about romance and fantasy and would squeeze one book about the science of worlds every now and then. You made little book marks in all of them just in case she decided to read them when you left the room.

Your theory was correct, you once pretended to leave and peaked through the door seeing her reach over and scan what you’ve been reading. This was very difficult and annoying.

Every now and then you’d cry in the comfort of your bed or when Nami let you bathe alone, you couldn’t help it. Although you wanted to be strong your emotions overflowed when you were alone.

Luffy and Zoro were also more clingy as of late. Zoro was always over your shoulder and Luffy wanted to touch you whenever he could.

This was the first time you’d seen him act this way towards anyone, he never showed the side of him that actually liked women till you came around and that made you panic even more.

Luffy was as charming as they could get in your eyes. You’d been infatuated with him the day you started the series so you were more than conflicted. Would pursuing Luffy work in your favor? Or would you end up being imprisoned with him for the rest of your life?

When you arrived at punk hazard you were irritated, you didn’t like being cold at all so you were cranky.

“ Y/N why are u making that face you looked like that for the last hour”

“ it’s cold leave me alone Luffy”

He laughed and you rolled your eyes while sitting in the cave with the children. When you met up with Law you couldn’t believe your eyes, he was just as fine as he was through the screen. You ogled him blatantly and Luffy started to notice.

He would separate you two if he thought you were too close and make the crew do things to get your attention. Robin would put you in choke holds and rip off your hat making snow fall in your hair. Ussop, Luffy, and chopper would throw snow balls at you and you were getting irritated.

Luckily you got to be alone with Law when you were inside the bunker. After speaking with you he deemed you useful and the two of you were alone walking down those shady halls.

“ Y/N-ya when did you join the Strawhats”

“ I haven’t joined their crew in just.. uhm joining their adventure for right now”

And ear suddenly popped up on your arm, you motioned him to be quiet and he understood. When you got into a room and took a notepad and began writing.

“ Are you with them against your will?”

You nodded

“ Y/N-ya do you know anything about sea prism stone” he spoke up. You understood this was his way of not raising suspicion to the crew as you wrote back and forth on the pad.

Law was willing to help you escape and go back to your world. You kept most things confidential but gave him a rough idea of what’s going on. He wanted to have them think he needed you on his ship during the alliance with the Strawhats.

You ended up explaining to law that you were from another universe where this world is an animated series. You told him everything that would happen during his alliance and his irritation was plastered on his face. While doing this you managed to easily swap out sea prism cuffs for regular ones and were on your way to do whatever he needed next.

Since he would be on the ship with you to dressrosa you would have a lot of time to formulate a plan using secret codes. You were jumping for joy, Law was going to help you ! He was going to set you free of this world and you couldn’t help but smile at him.

When you were finally on the Sunny you spent most of your time with Law. You sat next to him during meals and spoke with him about books you’ve read or are currently reading. The crew was seething to say the least, Law was weary of them as well and tried warning you to be more careful but, it was too late.

When he tried whispering in your ear Luffy nudged his head between the two of you and made himself comfortable.

“ Y/nnnnnnn you’ve been spending too much tim with Traffy spend time with me and the rest of the crew”

“ Luffy you can’t just interrupt a conversation”

“ What could you be talking about while you’re whispering in each others ears”

“ Why do you care?”

“ Because you’re my crew mate and my friend”

“ I’m allowed to have other friends”

He huffed and walked away leaving you and Law to stifle giggles at the obvious jealous captain. You continued talking and his hand grazed your thigh as the two of you got closer.

“ Thanks for helping me”

“ I haven’t done anything yet”

“ yes but still. Without you this would’ve probably taken me months”

you smiled at him and you seen his cheeks softly turn red. Through his not so hard exterior Law was a very sweet guy, you couldn’t help but be thankful that he was someone you can completely feel comfortable around.

Sanji suddenly appeared sneering at him to quickly smiling at you while handing you a tropical drink.

“ Y/N chan I made this specially for you, want to come taste what I’m making for dinner?”

“ thank you Sanji, and of course! I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

The jealously was drooling off of him as he angrily stalked his way back to the kitchen. When he was finally out of view law pulled you close and you felt his lips ghost over your ear.

“ You weren’t kidding when you said they all get jealous. They’ve been starring holes into my head since last night”

You both giggled and leaned into one another. You didn’t mean to get so close to him in a short amount of time, and this is very much putting Law in danger but what could they really say?

You were just friends and it wasn’t like you couldn’t have any.

There were many perks of being Sanji’s little helper, sometimes you got to help and the rest was just you sitting there like a little doll as he spoon fed you dishes.

“ Y/N chan how does it taste? Is it good enough”

“ It’s amazing Sanji, just as anything else you cook for us”

“ thank you, I have a quick question for you”

“ Hm”

“ Y/N chan do you.. like Traffy?”

“ Yeah we’re good friends”

“ But you just met him”

“ Yeah but he’s really nice and I like talking to him”

“ mhm”

Sanji was quieter the rest of the time and it put you on edge. Law was right, you needed to be way more careful when you’re together. Not only could this risk you alliance, it could risk you being brought into his ship.

Over the next few days before reaching Dressrosa you helped him strategize and you started sitting between Luffy and Zoro more which helped release the tension on the ship.

Law’s plan was to get you in the ship by telling them that you were an amazing strategist, which was believable considering you helped formulate the plan for dress rosa. He would ensure that you weren’t sent to Zoe with a note for his crew that you hid in your bra.

The crew was amazed with you, had they known you were this good previously you probably could’ve helped them get back to each other and save ace. The plan was going smoothly but something in the back of your mind made you fear that someone could see through it and foil everything you’ve worked for.

That night you finally sat with Luffy on the Sunny after basically avoiding him and only paying attention to Law and the rest of the crew.

This time he laid his head on your shoulder and snaked an around around your waist that was slight too tight.

“ Y/N.. you aren’t going to leave again are you?”

Tags: @herwritingartcowboy

A/N: Hello, sorry for the late chapters, I hope you enjoy this and the hint of romance I’m trying to throw in. I’m taking requests, and if you have any suggestions for the story as it continues to progress I’m all ears. There will be no update for this tomorrow I will post a one shot though see you all Monday 🫶🏽🫵🏽

[yelenabelovasbxtch]

Crush On An Archer PT.4

Kate Bishop X f!reader

a/n: Honestly, I know I took forever to write this but I'm proud of myself for coming back and doing it haha. We all know how I can be when I fall off the writing wagon for a bit. Anyways, I think this part was pretty good! Let me know what you think! For those of you asking, there will probably be one to two more parts after this. Most likely one but we'll see if I change my mind. Happy writing!

Word count: 2250

Warnings: Not proofread, drinking

Waiting for 7pm too roll around felt like weeks. You tried watching tv, scrolling tiktok, literally anything to pass the time. You ended up settling on taking a nap to make time move quicker and so you’d have no problems this time staying up a little later. Your alarm goes off at 5:30 and you get up to get ready. You settled on some beige shorts with a black tshirt and a fitted cap to match the shorts. You threw on your chain and rings and hit yourself with a mist of your cologne before you were ready to head out. You had about 40 minutes until 7 when all of a sudden your phone went off. 

“Hey any chance you could come to mine for 7 instead? I ended up having to host the pre game. Sorry about the inconvenience.” Kate said in a text. 

“Sure omw in 10.”

Kate dropped you a pin with her location as a reminder of where she lived and you started to head over. 

Despite the constant texting and good amount of time spent together so far, you couldn’t help but be nervous. You don’t drink often and when you do secrets spill so who knows how this is going to go. You send her a text saying you’re close and as you walk up the steps to her front door the door swings open and there’s Kate with open arms and clearly already tipsy. 

“Y/N!!!!!” She says as her arms wrap around you and her body weight almost completely falls onto you. You’re practically holding her up until she finds her footing. She looked gorgeous. Her hair was down, she was wearing this beige tank top style shirt that was tight to her body with super high cut black shorts. You were practically drooling. 

“It is SO good to see you. Let’s get you a drink. We’re playing some games.”

You walked into her house and around the corner there were about 10 other girls some of them you recognized from the team some you didn’t. 

Kate quickly did a run down of who everyone was in the room for you while cracking a vodka soda for you and handing it off. 

“Do you know the rules of flip cup?”

“Yeah I think so.”

“Want to watch us play one round then join in?”

“Yeah absolutely.”

You sat there and watching a bunch of drunk girls playing flip cup but honestly your eyes were stuck on her. Fuck she was absolutely gorgeous. Her smile felt like it was lighting up the entire room. Every feature on her face was your favorite. Your heart was just melting looking at her and she had no idea. 

“Y/n??” You zone back in. 

“Yeah sorry?”

“You saw how to play. Think you’re ready to join now?”

“Yeah absolutely.”

You played a couple of different drinking games that Kate walked you through for about an hour and a half and had a pretty strong buzz going when one of the girls announced that the party you were going to go to got shut down. 

“Well it’s not too late, we could always just go to the bars instead?” Kate says. 

Everyone nodded in agreement, you were honestly a little relieved because house parties weren’t so much your thing. A bunch of the girls went to touch up their makeup while you waited by the door ready to go. Kate walked over to you and waited with you, of course she’s so naturally gorgeous that she wears practically no makeup. 

“I hope you’re having fun!! I know you don’t typically do this sort of stuff.” She says. 

“I am yeah I’m excited to go to the bar too.”

“Good.” She says with a soft smile as you two stay making eye contact in this dark entrance to the apartment. 

“C'mon you two let’s get going.” One of the girls says as she stumbled between the two of you bringing you back down to earth. 

Everyone was ready to go and you all started walking towards the strip of road with about 5 different clubs and bars on it. Luckily, Kate’s place wasn’t far at all from the area so it was only a short 8 minute walk. After IDs were checked you all headed in, the music was blaring, drunk people dancing, yes you absolutely felt over stimulated and were trying to keep your cool. 

Kate looks over at you and sees the concerned look on your face. She grabs your hand with hers and motions towards the bar with her head. “C’mon let’s go get a drink” is what you think came out of her mouth but it's practically too loud to tell. 

Kate orders the two of you a shot and a vodka cran each as the bartender makes eyes at her, you can feel her grip tighten. 

“Thank you!” you try to yell over the music as she hands you your drinks.

Kate winks at you as you cheers your shots, tap them on the table and throw them back.

“Let’s go dance!” She screams over the music. Her free hand grabs yours again and pulls you to the front of the dance floor right in front of the DJ. The two of you bump into some of the girls you came here with who are so unbelievably plastered they had absolutely no shame in dancing any which way. You however felt shy, although there was copious amounts of liquor coursing through your body you were still sober enough to be nervous. That or the nerves were so bad they were sobering you up. You decide to down your other drink for courage and try your best at dancing. Kate was a natural, she went out with these girls all the time, they practically all had a dance routine created based only on their time drunk dancing in bars. Your second drink was starting to hit a little harder than expected so the nerves were settling and you felt like you could relax and have a little bit of fun. Was the room spinning? Yes. But it was spinning in the best way possible.

You and Kate were jumping around having an amazing time screaming the lyrics to whatever Taylor Swift song the DJ queued up (there were a LOT) when all of a sudden you saw all the emotion drop off her face. She got real quiet and started to stand a little behind you. You look at her confused as you follow her eyeline three people down to a guy who just walked up with his friends. Fuck.

“Kate? Everything okay?”

“no”

“What’s going on?”

“I just haven’t seen my ex since we broke up. I know it was inevitable with us living in the same town and going to the same school and everything but it still took me off guard.”

“Did you want to leave?”

“--fuck no. He doesn’t own the bar. I’m not going to ruin my night just because his dumb ass showed up.”

You see the guy she’s looking at make eye contact with Kate. Fuck is he walking over here?

Kate’s fingers are entangled in yours as she clutches onto your hand behind her back. 

“Hello ladies.”

ick.

“Why are you over here?”

“Woah Kate, no need to be so hostile. I just wanted to come say hi. Why don’t you introduce me to your little friend?”

You could see fire lighting behind Kate’s eyes. She quickly squeezed your hand twice and pulled you around in front to reveal your hands locked together.

“Girlfriend actually.” Kate says confidently as she releases your hand and puts her arm around your shoulders. Your arm naturally fell to her waist and your heart was beating a mile a minute as your hand gripped around her side. 

His eyebrows raise as the two of you hold each other. “Yeah…okay…sure.” He says. 

“I don’t know who you are but you’re making my girl very uncomfortable so I think it’s time you go.” You say with the most fake but hopefully believable confident tone. 

““Your girl” yeah?” he says with air quotes. 

You just raise your eyebrows in response. He scoffs, looks at the two of you back and forth and walks away. A huge sigh of relief comes out of your mouth as you watch him walk away. No way would that have been possible without the amount of liquid courage you downed just beforehand. You snap back into reality as you feel a kiss planted on your cheek. Your eyes widen and your face more beet red than it already was turns and looks at Kate. 

“You were GREAT thank you so much for playing along with me.”

You got a kiss on the cheek, holding hands, arm around her waist. Why did you feel so shitty? Why did it feel like your heart fell out of your ass to then get trampled on? 

You managed to crack a smile out as your eyes looked at Kate with lust and love and how all you wanted was for it to be true while she seemed obliviously happy that it was just you two again.

Her friends came back over to you guys after getting more drinks and Kate told them what just happened as you stood there still trying to process it all and how you felt. The rest of the night felt hazy, you tried to dance with Kate and her friends but fuck all you felt was out of it. That whole thing really fucked you and your night up and it never improved. 

You check your watch, “1:27am”

“Hey Kate, I think I’m going to go home, I’m feeling pretty tired.”

A frown comes across Kate’s face when you say you’re leaving. “Okay…but I’m walking you, I don’t want you walking alone at night.” She says. 

“No, it’s not a big deal, stay with your friends.”

“No y/n, I’m walking you home, you have no say in this.”

You let out a small chuckle and agree as Kate turns around and says bye to all her friends. 

The two of you push your way through the crowd and manage to make it outside and damn fresh air never felt so good. 

“So…how was your first night out experience?”

“I had a pretty good time, yeah.”

“So glad to hear it! I hope you come out with us again soon.”

“Yeah for sure.”

The two of you talked about all sorts of different stuff on your walk home, school, friends, archery, you had some laughs but for the most part you were still feeling really weird about everything that happened earlier and you weren’t doing a very good job at hiding it. 

“Thanks for walking me home…but now I’m worried about you walking home alone.” You say with a chuckle. 

“It’s okay, I can call an Uber.” Kate responds. “Uh…y/n..can we talk about something for a sec?”

“Yeah for sure what’s up?” Fuck. You can feel your heart racing again.

“Are we good?”

“Yeah of course, why do you ask?”

“I don’t know, it’s just I felt like we were having a really good time and then after my ex came over and that whole thing you seemed really off the rest of the night.”

Fuck. What do you say? Do you tell her you have feelings for her? Do you shrug it off? One of those sounds a lot easier than the other.

“Yeah! No, yeah of course we are good. Yeah that whole thing was definitely weird but there was no issue.” You say with the fakest smile ever. At this point you were worried she could hear your heart racing.

“You know if there are ever any issues you can tell me right? Like if I crossed a line or something, just be honest.” She says as she takes a step closer to you. 

“Yeah of course. No issues here.”

“Okay good. Because I have really enjoyed getting to know you and I love the friendship that we have…”

Is she just saying that to make it abundantly clear that we are only friends and will only ever be friends?

“...or whatever else we have too.”

You felt a lump get caught in your throat as your eyes were making lingering contact. Heart thumping so loud you can feel it in your eardrums. Your eyes were scanning her face, fuck all you wanted to do was grab her face pull it in and kiss her. Your body is just full of adrenaline, it's practically shaking out of you when all of a sudden you tune back in. 

“Yeah, I love our friendship too.” You say with a big goofy smile and take a small step back from her. 

What the fuck was that?

Kate’s face was fighting back every emotion it was feeling. Struggle was painted across it. She clearly had something to confess that she practically did but you are such a big pussy that pushing her back and away was the only thing you could do. 

“I should um get some sleep.” You say. “Text me when you get home safe?”

“Sure– uh– yeah.” Kate says looking confused as you start backing up towards your door and walk through it. Back against the wall as your head tips back in frustration trying to figure out why the fuck you would do that. 

– End of PT. 4 –

Taglist: @yelenaslyubov @youreatotalposer @jeyramarie @flosbelova @bridgecitybrad @justthis-stuff @chloe7076 @ailenepuff @ravenclawbitch426 @mellowladyangel @amcg0605-blog @kassies-take @yelenaswife1996 @wandanatchick @lilroachsworld @inluvwithfictionalwomen @x666hours @natashaswife4125 @onetruwhore @karmasgxrl @hopelesslyfallenninlove @setsuna1415 @swiftdazer @imobsessedwithmilfss @madamevirgo @louisprettybab @splatalia-jumpanova @jediluka @t00manyfand0ms @oohlala666 @kates-abs-slay @scmg11 @uselessgaez @katebishops-simp @d0ingitwithpassi0n @wuwu96 @ar23northlondon-forever 

[timeslugarts]

HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY EVERYONE!!

Here's a Vox x Vera(oc) super Valentine's Day special!

Also like I'm still super shy about sharing my writing, so i really hope you enjoy it.

It's a little risqué but nothing too bad.

Vox wrung out his hands nervously. He just had to get through his morning and an afternoon meeting, and then he'd be able to spend his evening with Vera. He peeked at the clock, only 9:30. Oh god, this was gonna be a long day.

It was going to be their first Valentine's day, really it was Vox's first Valentine's day he spent with someone he actually liked. Normally it would just be him and Valentino doing unmentionable things to each other while completely plastered out of their minds. This time it was different though, he loved her, he would never tell her, but he did, and he was gonna be damned if something fucked today up. 

He pulled his phone out to send a quick text, he had the whole thing planned, time tables and everything.

Vox: you free later tonight?

20 minutes passed. His nerves were so taut. What if she said no? What if, and God forbid, she already had plans. They weren't mutually exclusive, but he had hoped… that maybe… 

Vera: I'm all yours tonight baby, usual place?

Vox's fans kicked on. She had no idea what she did to him. 

The day dragged by so slowly, hearing everyone bitch and moan and having to deal with all of their problems. Valentino threw some sort of 5 hour stream event to celebrate the holiday. Velvette releasing a Valentine's themed clothing line. They were booked solid, the Vees were icons here in Hell, everyone wanted to be them, to look like them, to fuck them. Sometimes it was a little much, but it was great for business, so Vox kept pushing on. 

Any issue that arose he handled with relative ease and only mild complaining. He was too nervous to put his whole mind into it. 

Finally the time was here, he put on a simple black suit, something a little fancier than his usual attire. Grabbed his gifts and headed to the door.

"Where do you think you're going papito?" 

Shit. Val. 

Val strutted over to Vox wearing something leather and skimpy, he had been drinking his breath reeked of alcohol.

"Just out to eat with a uh… date." 

"You're not seeing that BITCH again are you?" Vox winced at the word, "Come on baby, you always spend Valentine's with me." Val purred, stroking a finger over Vox's antenna. 

"Val- I really have to go." He was trying to be delicate, he knew Val was going to be mad regardless of what he said, but he'd just have to deal with that later.

Before Valentino could get another word in Vox zipped out of the building and towards the bar. What Vox didn't hear was Valentino screaming the whole way after him.

The bar Vox and Vera met at was small, kind of disgusting, but private and away from any watchful eyes and that's what Vox liked most. He had her all to himself. 

When she arrived his system kicked into overdrive, she had a black velvet coat on and still it was enough to get him going. Why did he suddenly feel so sweaty?

"Heya kitten," she purred at the sight of him, "why the sudden invite?" She slowly sat on her side of the booth and ordered a glass of wine. 

Vox felt his heart drop, she thought this was just another day. Of course she would, she wouldn't care about Valentine's day. He looked at the small bag of presents seated next to him and started to feel shy. 

"Well I, uh, wanted to give this to you." He handed her the little gold gift bag, she gently took it, fingers brushing his hand and he shuddered at the contact. 

Vera lifted the bag and peered inside, "Oh Vox, this is adorable thank you." She smiled softly at him looking up through her lashes.

"Y-yeah I thought you could use a little treat, ya know for working and… stuff." Vox could slap himself. Inside the bag amidst an assortment of chocolates lay a delicate gold chain with the letter V dangling from the end. Vera lifted the chain gently and clipped it around her throat, the V landing in between the valley of her breasts. 

"I also wanted to ask if you would be my Valentine's… today… now… because it's today." He gulped, feeling very sweaty.

"Oh is that why you wanted to see me today?" The grin she gave him could make God himself nervous. "I guess if that's the case…" Vox felt a foot press against his thigh,he jumped at the contact, knee bumping into the table, his glass spilling everywhere.

A waiter appeared carrying a handful of napkins as if by magic. They swiftly started cleaning the situation, the bar may be sticky, but at least they tried. 

"I'm so-frz sorry." Vox said looking at the mess, more concerned with it then he would normally be, but her eyes watching and the heat from her leg has him more flustered than normal.

Vera pressed her foot against the growing bulge in Vox's pants and he leapt to his feet in a panic. Vera chuckled darkly.

"CAN WEFzzz GET THE-TZ-TZ CHECK." 

After paying Vox quickly grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her all the way back to her apartment. She walked in quietly, her flames scattering to light the candles around her flat washing the room in a warm glow.

"You're such a rude little thing." Vox growled, closing the door behind them, he turned to face her, "I'm going to make you pay for embarrassing-." Vox blacked out, systems shutting down, he rebooted himself quickly.

Vera was standing before him, she had dropped her rich velvet coat on to the ground, it pooled around her feet. She was wearing nothing but a red lace bodice and matching panties and now the gold V that hung around her throat.

She grinned up at him, nothing but mischief in her eyes.

"Happy Valentine's Day, baby."

[harry-sussex]

Okay guys, as promised, another long post! Day 2, another one of the craziest days of my life - brace yourselves. This is a wild ride from start to finish - I put my blood, sweat, and tears (literally) into this one.

On Friday, I did a lot - I headed to the National Gallery (where I cried, like a lot, you know how much I love art), and then I went to BP and the mall to scope out locations and check out the vibe for the coronation, and then I met @duchessofostergotlands for dinner (she’s as fun, hilarious, and sweet as you’d expect, we had a blast).

After dinner, I decided I’d head on over to Parliament / Big Ben / the London Eye / etc. just to do the touristy thing, because why not?

I spent about an hour just roaming about, basking, doing whatever when I decided to head on over to the Abbey, just to check it out, see with my own two eyes the place where William and Catherine got married, where the coronation was going to happen, all that.

So I’m just roaming about, staring at the Abbey (which is massive and beautiful, by the way), chatting with some policemen and also texting @claireofluxembourg and @cambridgemadness about how crazy it all was and how it didn’t seem real and just how different things are now, you know?

In the middle of our conversation, I get this absolutely PANICKED text from Vanessa:

So I immediately freak out and call them both and they’re like SOS RED ALERT THIS IS NOT A DRILL GO GO GO GO GO so all three of us are at the same time looking at the fastest route from the Abbey to Oswald’s while on the phone and I’m sprinting in whichever direction I saw first and it’s no joke 23 minutes on foot and not worth waiting for the tube. So I start booking it, and I mean BOOKING it while V and Ara are on the phone trying to find a route while I’m just going going going. And they’re telling me who was spotted going in and what time the royals got there and when they think they’d leave, the whole conversation was just a rapid, frenzied SOS THIS IS NOT A DRILL SOUND THE ALARMS RED ALERT GO GO GO GO GO GO GO GO GO. So I’m on the phone with two people and it’s pitch black minus the (very occasional) street lamp and I am not even looking at anything other than Google Maps on my phone. Before I knew it, I was crossing the bridge at St. James’ Park and as I’m getting to the other side I am still booking it SO quickly and I’m not paying attention to anything other than my phone and I am most definitely NOT watching where I was walking and it was so dark that I literally SLAMMED myself, full force, RIGHT into one of those black metal bollards at 100mph. I didn’t stand a chance of catching myself so I go flying, my bag goes flying, and I land on my hands and knees (but like, my knuckles, which are still scratched to hell btw). The whole thing hurt like hell (my right knee is legit purple lmao) but I somehow managed to hang onto my phone. So without hesitating for even a second I IMMEDIATELY got up, completely ignored my battle wounds, and frantically started grabbing my stuff while shouting “YES I’M FINE IT’S FINE EVERYTHING IS FINE” to the 5 million people yelling “ARE YOU OKAY??” from every corner of the park. I legit didn’t even stop - this woman almost had to chase me down because my wallet (!!) went flying and I didn’t even notice amid the chaos.

Unfortunately (but hilariously), I am still on the phone with Vanessa and Arantxa while the commotion is happening and they heard the whole thing, including my body slamming into first the bollard and then the pavement and my “oof” as I’m going down and then the groan once I’d landed and of course they are both crying laughing, which is where this post came from (I am also laughing out loud reading this as I’m writing lmao):

So at this point I’m bleeding, I’m half limping, I’m breathing heavy and sweating because I’m booking it, I almost lost my wallet, I’m still more than 10mins from Oswald’s, and I’m crying laughing at myself while Vanessa and Arantxa are dying laughing at me and honestly that part alone, battle wounds and all, was one of the highlights of my entire trip because let me tell you, it was HILARIOUS - nothing like uncontrollably cracking up with your friends even when they’re thousands of miles away.

Anyway, so I eventually make it to Albemarle Street and get to Oswald’s in one piece and relatively okay considering the earlier incident - I was still bleeding, though. I saw a few paps, some Range Rovers and Audis, plenty of protection officers and security, and maybe 5 regular people like me taking iPhone pictures on the sidewalk. So I found my spot and flung myself in between these two fancy cars across the street and slightly to the left of the entrance. I had my phone in my hand still (I literally did not put it down for a single second in more than 24 hours lmao) so I immediately start snapping pics while Arantxa and I are yelling about God only knows what. Vanessa had to hang up (I was so sad) but Arantxa stayed on the phone with me the entire time - poor thing had to listen to the whole commotion for more than an hour.

So I’m frantically snapping pictures without looking and when I finally get situated I look up I see Crown Prince Akishino and Crown Princess Kiko of Japan just like… standing there. Less than 20 feet away from me. Right across the street, on the sidewalk, like the world had decided “this is really not a big deal.” So naturally I’m completely starstruck and I couldn’t find any words so I’m just yelling “JAPAN!!! JAPAN!!! to Arantxa on the phone while she was also yelling into the abyss. Honestly I wish I could see security footage of this because the vision of me yelling on the sidewalk and her yelling on the phone was probably the comedy show of the century.

So eventually it occurs to me that they’re, like, literal people, who actually exist, who can hear and see and communicate just like I can, standing right in front of me, so I just start bellowing “HIIIIII!!!!” from across the street, waving so enthusiastically, and they looked at me and made eye contact and smiled! The Crown Prince and Crown Princess of Japan smiled at me! Acknowledged my presence! Communicated with me! Knew I existed, for even just a moment, can you believe it?

I couldn’t for the life of me figure out why nobody else on the street was saying hi - even after I said hi and waved, I figured somebody else would get the idea too, but nope - it was just me in an absolute tizzy, frantically waving and saying hi and using their names and telling them to have fun at the coronation and whatnot. I found out later that the women next to me were only there for the Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau (lol), so they had no clue who these other people were (fun fact, he never came out). They weren’t even fun about it - they were kind of judgmental about it. “Oh, you run a royal blog? I don’t care about any of these people.” They tried to be a buzzkill, but not on my weekend - no way.

Before I knew it, the royals just kept coming, and I just kept yelling and saying hi and waving, because why not, you know? Once in a lifetime, what was I going to do? Play coy? Act shy? Act like I didn’t know who they were even though I’ve known for years? Please. Literally - you only live once. When was I ever going to get the chance to see them again? Much less all at once?

And seriously, they just kept coming. At one point I was begging Arantxa to write it all down and I was also frantically trying to write in my little notebook and snap photos and pay attention without missing anything important (more on that last part later). All of the pictures are awful because I wasn’t looking at my phone while snapping them, I was just looking at the door, but you’ll see.

After Crown Prince Akishino and Crown Princess Kiko:

Prince and Princess Michael of Kent - I didn’t say anything to Princess Michael, of course (she got in on the other side of the car anyway), but I did say hi to Prince Michael and told him to enjoy the coronation and he waved and smiled at me!

Then came King Jigme Khesar Namgyel Wangchuck and Queen Jetsun Pema of Bhutan. I said hi and waved at first and they both honestly seemed quite shy, but then I bellowed YOU LOOK SO PRETTY!! at the Queen and she smiled at me!! She really is so stunningly beautiful. Like, so beautiful.

And after that… came Prince Andrew, The Duke of York. I don’t know why I wasn’t expecting that, but I wasn’t, and it took me a minute to figure it out and once I did, I literally gasped out loud and said “it’s Andrew” to nobody in particular (except Arantxa I guess lol), but yeah. I didn’t say a thing to him of course, just took pictures. He didn’t look up at anyone or make a single expression or anything - he and his team booked it to his car at the far end of the road which was in the complete opposite direction of the paparazzi. I didn’t think a 60 year old man could move that fast without breaking a sweat (lol) - top right is him keeping his head down and bottom right is the best shot I could get of his team absolutely sprinting to the car on the far end of the street:

I will forever, forever, forever, FOREVER be furious at myself about this next one. 2 days later and I am still absolutely dumbfounded and so, so, so pissed at myself. I saw this guy and I thought it was Grand Duke Henri of Luxembourg - I couldn’t tell though, so I was absolutely fixated on it. He went right, and I was snapping pictures so I could figure it out later, and I didn’t look left. Didn’t even think of it again until later when I was scrolling through my pictures. Spoiler alert, it was not Grand Duke Henri. Not only that, but even worse - leaving to the left at the same time were King Carl XIV Gustaf and Crown Princess Victoria of Sweden - aka half the reason why I booked it over there (wounds and all), because Victoria is, of course, one of my favorites. I’m absolutely furious at myself - I cannot believe I wasted my eyesight on a random guy who I thought was Grand Duke Henri when CROWN PRINCESS VICTORIA was RIGHT IN FRONT OF MY FACE!!!

So of course I didn’t get to wave or say hi to her because I didn’t even SEE HER because I am an IDIOT and I cannot stop thinking about the idea that she may have seen me waving to all of these people and saying hi and that she might think I have no idea who she is because I DO and I am so SAD that I didn’t get to say hi to her. AND I booked it all the way across London and fell and got bruised and bloodied specifically for her (see Arantxa’s post lol), and I didn’t even realize because I was looking at someone who wasn’t even the person I thought he was! And I’m far less interested in him! But here she is, with her father, proof that she was in front of me, which doesn’t really matter a lot in the grand scheme of my weekend, but I guess it’s something.

After, Crown Prince Haakon and Crown Princess Mette-Marit of Norway came out. I was SO excited to see them - the Norwegians are my next favorite royal family after the Brits, so my excited “HI HAAKON!! HI METTE-MARIT!!!” plus my frantic waving maybe have been a little too much for the average person, but Mette-Marit was totally unbothered by my nonsense! She made eye contact, smiled, laughed, AND waved back!! She was so sweet I can’t stand it. I always thought she seemed like a sweetheart but her reaction was one of the best parts of my night. They both got in the car on the other side of the street so I didn’t get to see her too closely in person but her hair is so pretty! So blonde and shiny!! Side note - have no idea if I pronounced either of their names right - ‘Met-tee Marie’? ‘Met-eh Marie’? ‘Met Mur-it’? ‘Hay-con’? Hah-con?’ - who knows, but I tried. I said “Hah-con” and “Met Marie”.

Then came (in this order) Vice Admiral Sir Timothy Laurence and Princess Anne, The Princess Royal. I about fell over when I saw Tim - the guy is HUGE! We knew this, it’s not news, but he’s about 10 feet taller than Anne. He came out solo at first and I literally gasped and yelled “TIM!! VICE ADMIRAL, HI!!!” It was definitely too much for dignified, stoic Tim lol but he did say hi out loud, didn’t really smile or nod but he did look in my general direction, no eye contact. He went back inside I guess to fetch Anne because they both came out and I absolutely lost it with Anne! “HI ANNE!! ENJOY TOMORROW!!!” She absolutely ignored me in the most Anne way possible, didn’t even flinch, I might as well have not been there at all. The most typical Anne response to a frantic American yelling her name from across the street - I’m not even upset that she outright ignored me, I almost would’ve been disappointed if she did anything more. It wouldn’t have matched the vision of her personality that’s in my head - happy we’ve been right all these years. No-nonsense Anne (and trust me, I was giving nothing but nonsense). Anne - the biggest badass on earth.

Afterwards came Crown Prince Frederik and Crown Princess Mary of Denmark. Mary is PRETTY, like so so so pretty. Her hair is absolutely stunning. I completely forgot that we usually call Frederik “Fred” and I totally butchered his name when I said hi, so it came out “HI FRED-*stutter*-RICK!” which didn’t make any sense at all, it came out as jumbled, gargled nonsense. I got it together with Mary though because I was like “MARY!!! HI!! YOU’RE SO PRETTY!! ENJOY TOMORROW!!!!!” Mary looked genuinely delighted to see me, almost like she couldn’t believe that anyone on the sidewalk had any clue who she was. Their car was a bit closer to my side of the road - more in the middle lane than the left lane - so I got such a good look at her face and we made such direct eye contact and her face like lit up!! She waved and smiled and said hello out loud and I could hear her plain as day and she was just such a bright ray of sunshine, it made my night! What an absolute sweetheart! I was so happy to see her and wave to her and have such an interaction that I literally blacked out and forgot about the pics until they got in the car and drove off so I only have the picture of the car below - you can kind of see Fred’s head through the rear window, but that’s about it.

And then The Duke and Duchess of Edinburgh, The Lady Louise Mountbatten-Windsor, and James, Earl of Wessex. I saw James through the door first and he’s just so adorable. After a few ins and outs of the door by security, Edward came out first, and at this point, I didn’t care how I looked because they’d all been so nice so far! Edward smiled, that made me happy, I feel like crowds probably don’t go crazy for him too often. And then Sophie - she outright WAVED and smiled and made eye contact, and I caught it on camera!! I told her to enjoy tomorrow and she is the only one of the bunch I remembered to call “Your Royal Highness.” She’s also so pretty. Like smiley! Happy! I didn’t say anything to James because he is a child, but I waved just in case - he kept his head down though, definitely a shy little thing. I also gently said hi to Louise (not as frantically as I did to her parents and everyone else) and she gave me like a half not-smile but that’s okay because it must have been so weird to see someone like me across the street from her.

The last group to come out with security was Princess Beatrice, Edoardo Mapelli-Mozzi, Princess Eugenie, and Jack Brooksbank. I was… mildly surprised and definitely bummed with this group. I wasn’t expecting much from Jack but I thought I’d get something out of the rest of them, some kind of smile or nod or something, but nope. I know they don’t owe me anything, but I was kind of bummed that they didn’t acknowledge anything. I even yelled my congratulations to Eugenie and Jack on their pregnancy and they didn’t flinch, but not in a fun way (like Anne). Not sure what I was expecting - maybe my expectations were different because everyone else generally seemed mildly happy to acknowledge a fan? I don’t know, but it bummed me out. As an aside, Beatrice’s hair is just as pretty in person - if not more - than it is in the photos.

So after the York princesses and their husbands left, security and the paparazzi scattered pretty quickly. I stuck around for quite a while, but when the restaurant’s security started getting into a van to leave, I went and asked one of them if Crown Princess Victoria was still in there (because, at the time, I had no clue she had already left because I am dumb). He told me nobody was left in there, so I sat down on a stoop and rambled to Arantxa about how that was the most badass day and just hung out outside for a while. I was out there for I don’t know, 15 minutes after security left? I just sat on the stoop looking at my phone and then out of nowhere I looked up and saw Mike and Zara Tindall walking out of Oswald’s! No security! And not only that, they didn’t even get into a car! They just walked down the street like it was absolutely no big deal! I was so surprised to see them - I wasn’t expecting anyone else because the security guard said nobody was left inside. So I jumped up and yelled “ZARA!! MIKE!! HI!!!” and they both waved and smiled! They then posed for a picture for someone across the street (I got the back end of it, so sweet) and just went on their merry way.

So all in all, I saw TWENTY-FIVE (25!!!!!!!) royals and royal adjacents on Friday:

Crown Prince Akishino of Japan

Crown Princess Kiko of Japan

Prince Michael of Kent

Princess Michael of Kent

King Jigme Khesar Namgyel Wangchuck of Bhutan

Queen Jetsun Pema of Bhutan

Prince Andrew, The Duke of York

King Carl XIV Gustaf of Sweden

Crown Princess Victoria of Sweden

Crown Prince Haakon of Norway

Crown Princess Mette-Marit of Norway

Princess Anne, The Princess Royal

Vice Admiral Sir Timothy Laurence

Crown Prince Frederik of Denmark

Crown Princess Mary of Denmark

Prince Edward, The Duke of Edinburgh

The Duchess of Edinburgh

The Lady Louise Mountbatten-Windsor

James, The Earl of Wessex

Princess Beatrice, Mrs. Mapelli-Mozzi

Edoardo Mapelli-Mozzi

Princess Eugenie, Mrs. Brooksbank

Jack Brooksbank

Zara Tindall

Mike Tindall

That doesn’t include the coronation or any of the other incredible things and people I got to see this weekend. Just Friday night, on the side of the road, among a whopping 10 people looking to see and greet royalty from all over the world. What a wild ride. I will never see this many of them in one place ever again. It is likely I never will see any of them ever again. It is also likely that I never would have seen most of them in my lifetime. Even if I did see them at another time in this life, I never would have gotten the chance to greet them and say hi and have some form of non-verbal communication with most of them without Vanessa and Arantxa’s tip-off to head to Oswald’s and without that now-infamous sprint through St. James’ Park. I didn’t leave until midnight, with the coronation the next day, and I don’t regret it a bit. That’s a story for another time, though.

Blood, sweat, and tears, baby. Blood, sweat, and tears. I still cannot believe how lucky I was and how lucky I am. Worth it? Absolutely - worth every second. Battle wounds and all.

[well-dressed-sewer-rat]

bsd hc dump except they’re all either thoughtful ideas of actions/opinions they would do/have or the stupidest things you’ve ever read!!

no these are not in any order :) enjoy

alongside his whole cleanse-the-world-of-sin thing, fyodor’s secondary life goal is to learn as many string instruments as he can, own at least one of each, and dedicate an entire room to them. the only other one that knows is sigma, and they’re… honestly not even surprised

kunikida can speak spanish well enough to have an everyday conversation with someone, but he’s not totally fluent (i also like to think he’s very fascinated by the different dialects and knows a ton of variations of certain phrases)

because of this, dazai has committed exactly 5 spanish words to memory. all of them are insults. he uses them on chuuya sometimes thinking he doesnt understand (alas, he’s close to fluent and often returns these tiny insults with entire vulgar speeches in spanish)

while we’re on the topic of languages, sigma is completely fluent in both japanese and russian. fyodor and gogol (both non-native japanese speakers) are pretty good with the speech and pronunciation part, but they have a hard time reading and writing kanji, so they’ll often go and use sigma as a walking google translate

kyouka likes rock music! atsushi found her with headphones on once, asked if he could hear, and immediately got blasted to the other side of the room by mcr

atsushi, however, likes actual rocks. he has a little collection on the windowsill by his desk in the agency <33

the black lizard have game nights together once a month. higuchi caught them all heading to hirotsu’s place together and asked what they were doing, and when they told her, she immediately asked to join. a few months after she started tagging along, akutagawa was soon dragged into it as well. this is how they found out akutagawa is a huge rage-quitter (hirotsu has had to buy three new game tables since)

louisa and poe occasionally go out for coffee together. not on dates or anything, just to sit in each other’s quiet company and get work done together alongside delicious beverages. one time while the guild was still assembled, lucy asked louisa if she wanted a certain kind of coffee (she was practicing so she could eventually land her current job), and poe answered with her exact order before she did

during the dark era, dazai jokingly made a set of those neon loom friendship bracelets for oda, ango, and himself. today, ango still has his and oda’s, which he managed to save. it’s one of, if not the only remaining physical object that could ever prove oda’s existence.

anyway, back to the happy stuff- gogol and sigma are huge reptile nerds, especially lizards! gogol caught one once, and they spent hours playing around with it. fyodor passive-aggressively stared at them from across the room while reading a book on rats the whole time.

despite this, sigma can’t stand snakes. anything else scaley is cool, just not snakes- they do find most spiders adorable, though. gogol, on the other hand, is the complete opposite; he loves snakes and will burn the entire sky casino down if a single spider comes within a 2 mile range of it.

50% of mori’s obsession with elise comes from… y’all know what… but the other 50% is from his love for fashion and need for a model. apparently, he decided elise was the perfect candidate, and spoils her rotten trying to find her an outfit that not only he believes is stylish, but she finds agreeable as well (so far, he’s had no success)

one of steinbeck’s sisters is a professional hairdresser, so he knows a lot about hair care. as soon as he saw the state of lovecraft’s hair, he decided he absolutely would not have this and proceeded to spend the next three hours thoroughly detangling and cleansing it. other than steinbeck himself, louisa was the only one who got to touch it before lovecraft immediately jumped into the ocean again (she said it was perhaps the softest thing she’d ever felt with her own two hands. poe is secretly dying to feel it too someday)

ranpo often takes kenji, atsushi, and occasionally tanizaki out with him on snack shopping sprees! they all usually get addressed as “young boys”, despite only one of the three actually being a child- unless tanizaki comes along, in which case he is usually assumed to be the oldest in charge of the group.

ok that’s all my stupid tiny hands can type for now. please rb with some of your own hcs if you like, i lovelovelove seeing other people’s ideas on these stupid little guys

[thefluxqueen]

HIIII :) here to ask about the abyss tell me about it please please please love this sort of thing :3

HAIIII welcome :) to preface this im normal i swear. anyway The Abyss is what i like ta call my Horrible Horrible Maze, i made it w/ the goal of making the worst possible experience in minecraft to torment my friends ^_^

I enjoy putting people in situations and studying them :D 

On that note! everyone who runs the abyss (24 people at current count) I time and write a couple notes on them! the abyss is honestly half maze half personality test LMAO. at current moment the quickest time goes to @ghostpajamas with a baffling 03:24 (wild that he got out so quick, i win tho cause i haunt his dreams), and longest goes to the beloved @rendogdomesticated with 1:35:54 <3 special shout out ta my dearest @theoctagon tho wolff ur insane i love u. guy goes inta the abyss for fun and has like 10 pages and counting of insane person phsyical notes tryna map it out (hes reported that hes gone through the first one 60 times and the 2nd one 5 jesus chriiiistttt). the abyss is fond of Pilot :) also if wolff is the favourite than @potionofinstantdamage is the Least favourite, rude ass set the place on fire when he got stuck in there :( oof ouchie

Highlights from my notes include @quack-city running backwards and upon me asking Why, simply replied “what if there’s slenderman :(‘ ... cant argue w/ that! he also hadda stop mid run so we decided its funnier if he’s just stuck in there forever. @newtbeetle was in there for like an hour and would NOT shut up about Paul Dano the whole time which was a time (love u beebs. ur isnane). my two test runners are @kishdoodles and @officialgleamstar and they had about the same time but like Opposite reactions it was very funny, kish treated it like they were a streamer n kept a like constant chatter, and travvy was like DEAD silent the whole time n Intensely focused akjewkjr tbh outta all 24 runners trav’s been prob the most like, methotical bout it? LIKE I SAID personality test. i Love studying people. 

In regards to its origins I came up w/ the idea back in like feb/march ish of this year and from start to finish it took me like 2 weeks ish i was on the Grind. u dont understnad how much black concrete this thing took. hell on earth,,, darkwoods has an economy/shopping district and i bought out like All the sand/gravel available akjwekjr the rest i hadda gather myself n God gravel sucks. also ive killed So Many Squids. the 2nd abyss was much easier ta gather supplies for cause i could ask for help w/ supplies n i kept the first one a Complete secret minus my test runners (i hadda bitch at SOMEONE while makin it or i wouldve died i think. speakin of the first abyss has a death count of 13 and the 2nd one has like, 5 or somefin? rlly shouldve writen that down akjwerjk those are Entirely me dying in the process of buildin them btw. its not a true Spain Build unless its mildly dangerous <3) The 2nd one also made me learn redstone, notably i specifically studied Tango’s decked out process vids from s7, tho i really only stole like two aspects of it n i couldnt even get one ta work properly LMAO

The second abyss took me like, wayy longer ta make, bout two months ish (i finished it like mid july). not necessarily in actual like, time spent building but cause in the process of makin it i had Two month long events i was in (Voiceteam in may and Art fight in july) so that distracted me a bit wkwnekeneie Im a bit more secretive bout the second abyss in general since not That many people have actually ran it compared ta the first n theres actually like, Things that can be spoiled in there <3 i like seein peep’s initial reactions its much more satisfying.

This didnt happen w/ everyone but i think a like, Core part of running the abyss is getting emotionally attached ta weird things. i wouldve said just torches until a few days ago when Tac (onea the rat server mods) ran it and claimed the stack of pumpkin pies i gave her as family. But Prior Ta That several people have had very intense emotions bout the redstone torches, whether love or hate or both, key example ft dog: 

Also not everyone ive mentioned on this post is in darkwoods! ive got a server i world editted the abyss inta so non-server members can run it for fun and profit (more data for me) :) on that note ive been slowly infecting the rat gang server cause my friend’s in there alot n another friend of mine’s a mod so peeps in there’ve been runnin it lately :) shout out ta TalonMC for lettin me subject him ta the Horrors literally our first conversation, onea my more fun first impressions i’d say

In regards to lore the abyss is a parasitic entity that infects anyone who gets stuck in there n slowly compells them ta go build their own lmao. note that ive only called the second abyss the Second one and not Abyss 2, because its technically just The Abyss as well cause theres many of them i just made it second wowjdkenejd (a real example of this is Wolff gettin obsessed w/ the abyss n then goin n buildin his own build called the Tower :) very excited bout that) The Abyss has a weird like fucked up warlock bond w/ my goddess oc The Overseer :D Her design’s vaugely based off my irl friend @hotcollectionoftubs cause her creation The Hole on a creative world her n some other friends of mine are on was onea the main insperations for certain aspects of the abyss’ lore :D mainly the teal in the colour palette and the whole ‘the [hole/abyss] provides’ thing. 

(my reference images for her and 3rd pic's art i commissioned from the Lovely @opuntie):

my darkwoods chara, Snake, is a whole nother bag entirely (basic gist is they’re a dimension traveler not by choice and darkwoods is the 3rd world theyve been in, their deal’s worth a whole post of its own lmao) i built the first abyss entirely unrelated ta my chara just as like, fun weird build ta torment my friends w/o yaknow? but then as i was buildin the 2nd one i was like hmmmmmm. alotta things could make sense if i made this one built by Snake. so their retirement arc on darkwoods turned inta even MORE trauma! wahoo! poor guy deserves a break,,, (he will not be getting one). 

(pre abyss + post abyss. i gotta properly draw pre-darkwoods Snake at some point but this dudes changed Alot ill say that lmao. both crops from bigger pieces on my art blog @fluxydrawings)

Anyway thats basically it! ive got more details and things locked in my brain ill probably remember in like 2 days after postin this so theres a chance ill reblog this w/ extra shit later lmao, sides that tho the abyss is my babygirl n thank yall for showin interest ^_^

Memes n shit to end us off:

[the-ace-with-spades]

5 times Jake crossed paths with Fire Lieutenant Bradshaw and 1 time he met Maverick's son

i told you I'd write it people

to @redfurrycat and @emseebeans: thought you might like it so I'm gonna tag you here 👉👈

Part One | read on ao3

The Meet Ugly | 2.3k

They’re stuck. They’ve been stuck in traffic on I-15 near Miramar for over an hour now — the cars stopped not far from where they are, maybe a hundred meters away. There’s a fire truck there now, parked across both lanes, the lights blinking as it shields whatever is happening, and they’ve heard the sirens going on and off as different emergency services arrived but he doesn’t know what the accident was about, completely.

There’s been something on fire, for sure. The smoke that was floating around behind the truck changed from a black cloud into a semi-transparent puff, but he could still smell the nasty odor of burned gasoline and plastic penetrating the air. 

They’ve already spent six hours getting to San Diego from Lemoore and Jake will explode if they did that just to kiss the doorknob of the base housing office — it’s almost five in the afternoon and their time is running out. They can’t just sit there in Javy’s truck indefinitely, they need to pick up the keys by six or they’ll have no roof over their heads.

Jake isn’t spending the night in a hotel either, not when he paid to be able to move in today.

And Javy’s truck doesn’t even have a working air con and they can’t sit there for hours in San Diego heatwave.

“I’m just going to check how long it’s going to take,” he tells Javy, opening the passenger door after the conversation stalls.

“Jake—”

He slams the door before Javy can finish and leaves, walking past the cars on the hard shoulder. There isn’t enough space between the barrier on the right and the truck so he walks around it, maneuvers between the cones that close off the road and looks around.

The accident is actually stretched out for another hundred meters. It’s a bus swayed to the side, a scorched-to-the-ground car that is still being managed by two firefighters, masked up and hosing down the remains,  and another car that’s become a pancake through a run-in with the bus’s side. A group of firefighters is standing near the bus, two pairs of feet sticking out from underneath it and two putting blocks under the wheels.

There’s a rescue squad parked not far from where he’s standing, number 56 on it’s side, and an open ambulance further away, the stretchers already prepared close to the bus.

The door of the rescue squad as a firefighter steps away, two yellow poles in his hands.

“Hey there,” Jake calls out.

The guy turns around like a deer caught in headlight and Jesus , he’s a literal kid, Jake can swear he’s not even out of high school. He’s shorter than Jake by a couple of inches and the turnouts are practically swallowing his hands and face.

He walks toward Jake and starts, tries for a firm tone but that baby face is not giving him any favors, “I’m sorry, sir, this space is reserved for first responders—”

“Look, I just want to know when we can move along,” Jake says. “It’s been hours.”

“This is an active scene,” he says, totally ignoring Jake’s words, sounding a bit like a robot. “Please step behind the line designated by the red cones.”

He waves in the direction behind Jake and turns around to go to the bus. When Jake follows, not giving up, he stops again, shielding him from going any further.

“Kid, come on,” Jake presses. “Where’s your boss? Can I talk to him?”

He’s looking at Jake but glancing behind his shoulder every other second. When Jake doesn't relents, he shouts out, “Lieutenant Bradshaw! Sir—”

The walkie-talkie thrown over his collar crackles up and a smooth, deep voice speaks up, “Use your radio, Santos, and how many times did I tell you not to call me that?”

When Jake looks behind the kid, he sees a firefighter holding a radio pinned to his front pocket walking toward them, detaching from the group from around the bus. He’s wearing a red helmet with a shield with Lieutenant 13 SDFD written on it in thick letters, the oxygen tank still on his back but the mask limps freely clipped to his side along with a pair of gloves.

“Is there a problem here?” he asks as he comes close enough for them to hear.

Jake freezes as the deep, steady voice reaches his ears and puts his focus on the lieutenant. He’s standing tall, towering over Jake with his back straightened up, jaw set, a couple of dark smudges of dirt on his face, one making a perfect extension of his mustache. His tan turnout jacket is open, a black hood folding around his neck, and the fabric has a gray smudge here or there, too. He makes clear, burly strides as he walks, his hips visibly swaying even in those bulky pants and Jake can see how big his chest is despite the heavy material.

He’s hot.

The kid nods his head at Jake like that explains everything and Jake makes himself focus on the issue at hand. He got exactly what he wanted — a talk with the kid’s boss. Maybe they’ll actually get here somehow, maybe the guy will be reasonable.

“Jesus, kid, when I told you to do crowd control, the idea was to control the crowd,” he says and his voice is light and he smiles, eyebrows slightly quirked, like he is amused to see Jake there.

“Maybe if you didn’t employ middle schoolers, we wouldn’t have been waiting here for hours,” Jake spat out as his brain short-circuited.

The kid takes a step back, hiding half-behind the lieutenant. He really is just a kid.

“Go learn how to use the lift bags, Santos, I’ve got this,” he orders. The kid moves without hesitating. The lieutenant grabs his radio, clicks a button, and adds, “Andre, the kid is coming your way, make use of him. Over.”

“On it, Lieu.”

The guy turns to Jake, shifting on his feet. The oxygen tank is metal and looks heavy enough that Jake is almost impressed at the grace his back is moving with.

“Okay, let’s begin again,” he says, turning back to Jake, and his tone holds an edge. “Lieutenant Bradshaw, I’m the current Incident Commander on scene. What’s the problem, sir?”

“We’ve been stuck in a traffic jam for over an hour now,” Jake points out.

Bradshaw looks at him, giving him a full glance over. He seems unimpressed as he starts walking toward the ladder truck, and tells him, “We’re doing our job as fast as we can.”

“Well, not fast enough, apparently,” Jake retorts, following him like a moth to a flame. “We need to be in Coronado by six, there’s no other way to get there but forward, at this rate, you’re going to make us late. Just one lane would be enough.”

Bradshaw opens one of the gates on the side of the truck, lifts it up to reveal more oxygen tanks and a huge sign with OXYGEN! NO OPEN FLAMES! In the middle of them. His profile shows the curve of his nose and the little curls behind his ear. He has a sticker with PARAMEDIC on the side of the helmet, too.

He unclips the harness from around himself, putting the tank in the empty line on the right side, and takes out a clipboard, writing something on it with an attached pen. “Should have left earlier, sir.”

Jake senses this is going nowhere. He’s running out of time, no matter how good looking at Bradshaw feels, they’re not sleeping in a hotel today.

“Look, at least let us through, just us, we need to pick up the keys for our house or—”

“This is not how it works, sir,�� Bradshaw cuts him off.

And he’s adding that sir at the end but it actually holds no weight and it’s gritting at Jake’s nerves.

“I’m actually a real lieutenant, okay? I can show you my military ID, I just got restationed, we need to get there before six or we’re spending the night in our car,” Jake explains again, voice slowing down like he is talking to someone stupid. “We’re just really in a hurry here, five minutes and we’d be on our merry way—”

“Oh, you’re in a hurry?” he asks and he’s smiling but there’s something in his tone that works like spikes on Jake.

“Yeah, we are,” he confirms.

“Well, I have two dead here because someone has already been in a hurry today,” Bradshaw says.

Jake licks his lips and the silence falls over. Bites his tongue not to add something stupid. Fails.

“You can’t just hold us here for hours.”

“I can and I will,” Bradshaw says calmly. “Now get behind the barrier before we get you some zip ties and a free hold cuffed up in the truck cabin until the police arrive.”

He pats the side of the truck and looks Jake dead in the eyes, a fake smile back on his face.

Jake laughs straight into his face because that has to be a joke. “You’re threatening to arrest me? On what basis exactly, impatience?”

Not missing a beat, he replies, “California Penal Code Section 402a, lingering at the scene of an emergency in such a way that it hinders first responders from performing their duties, and California Penal Code Section 409.5, unauthorized entry into an emergency area.”

And he was staring at Jake with a narrowed gaze, the black smudges still on his chin, one eyebrow raised as he put his hand on his hip, uncovering the suspenders from behind the turnout jacket, his navy blue uniform shirt visible — the buttons on his chest are stretched tight, screaming to be let go, showing the see-through, sweaty tank top underneath.

Jake’s mouth is dry as he tries to concentrate on putting words together but it doesn’t work.

The guy is really hot.

The radio on his collarbone crackles up as a new voice comes through, “Lieu, we extracted the patient.”

Bradshaw turns away from Jake but keeps him in the corner of his eye, bringing the radio up. “Condition?”

When Jake looks toward the bus and the bus is now lifted on its axis by two airbags, the yellow poles the kid was carrying stabilizing it. The two paramedics that were underneath it are working on a patient, another firefighter leaning over them, and a path of blood follows them under the backboard.

There’s a motorcycle, crushed into pieces and bent in half like a glowstick, under the chassis.

Bradshaw grabs him by the shoulder, turning him around so he doesn’t look, and gets into Jake’s face, shielding the view.

“Life functions intact but pupils are still unresponsive,” is the radio response. “Ivan and Alex are almost ready to go. Should the kid go with them?”

“No. No, it’s too early for that,” Bradshaw says back, his warm palm still on Jake’s shoulder, but his thumb on the radio button. “Tell them to take him to UC Medical if he’s stable enough, he’s going to need Trauma I.”

“Copy that.”

He lets go of Jake, switches the button on the radio, turning away again. “Dispatch, this is Lieutenant Bradshaw, we’re ready for that heavy tow truck.”

It takes a bit longer but he gets a response, too. “Copy that, Lieutenant, there should be one in twenty.”

“So you’re going to open up the lane in twenty,” Jake quips and it comes out extremely snarky.

Bradshaw laughs but it’s humorless. “No, I’ll have a tow truck in twenty. This is an emergency scene until I declare it otherwise.”

“But—”

The siren comes through again and Jake turns to see two police cars rolling at the end of the close-up, stopping near the ambulance. They’re towing one of those gigantic bottleneck signs, the neon blinking.

“Look at that, sir, Highway Patrol has arrived, they’re going to open a lane for you, make us both happy,” Bradshaw says and he’s not even trying to hide how irritated he is as he grins through his teeth. “Now, go back to your car, lieutenant.”

And there’s just something in the way he articulates the words, in how calm and unmoved his voice is even as he’s sending Jake an unimpressed look, in how he’s cocking his hip, one hand on his belt.

Jake bites down on his lip, regretting putting his foot in his mouth — he’d have asked for his number if he hasn’t known he has no chance after backchatting like that. It’s too bad.

They aren’t going to make it to the housing office on time, anyway.

He walks back to Javy’s truck like the fool he is, the ambulance’s sirens going off as whoever they were transporting drives away. He sits down and sighs, not feeling like talking.

“So,” Javy begins. “Do you know when they will open up the road?”

“The Highway Patrol is going to open the opposite lane in a few,” he says as he reaches for the seatbelt over his shoulder. There’s a smudge of soot on his white t-shirt, shaped like fingertips.

His face warms up as he recalls the image of Lieutenant Bradshaw, his big hand weighing down on Jake as he stirs him away, the smell of smoke that encircled Jake as he leaned forward, as his bulk towered over him.

This is so inappropriate, he realizes. 

Javy is silent for a minute, observing his wide-eyed expression. “What did you do?”

“I might have—I might have made an ass out of myself,” Jake admits.

“That ain’t new,” he points out.

Jake licks his lips and, with a straight face, says, “Well, there was this sexy fireman—” 

“Oh my fucking god, Jake,” Javy gasps, staring at him in disbelief, his hands flopping on the steering wheel. “Please tell me you didn’t mouth off at a first responder.”

“What? You know my brain shuts off around hot guys.”

Javy huffs at him and Jake doesn’t know why he’s so surprised — he’s known Jake long enough. He says, shaking his head at Jake, “Well, at least this one we’ll never see again.” 

“Yeah."

...

Part Two Coming Soon

[diana-fortyseven]

HITMAN - May Patch Preview

Known internally as Patch 3.1.5.0, this update will bring more than 80 bug fixes, tweaks and improvements – with a focus on addressing many points of fan frustration for our new rogue-like mode Freelancer. We’ve also implemented a new location for Contracts Mode, with the ICA Facility’s Freeform Training mission now supported for the first time, giving players more options to be creative. Before we release the full patch notes next week, we want to give you a look ahead at what’s coming up, including a new Prestige feature for Freelancer. Let’s start with that.

Link to the full blog post here, but let's have a closer look at it and discuss everything after the cut! 😀

FREELANCER PRESTIGE

We’re adding a new ‘Prestige’ feature to Freelancer that will give you more reasons to play and earn elusive Safehouse trophies for your collection. The ‘Prestige Laptop’ will be added to the Safehouse and will allow you to increase through five Prestige Levels. You can advance your Prestige Level after you’ve collected all the weapons that can be stored in the Safehouse. At that point, three things will happen:

The base Merces payout and XP gain for completing missions will increase

Adds a Prestige trophy to your Safehouse for each Prestige Level (5 in total)

All items in your inventory, all Freelancer gear, all weapons on the weapon walls and all Merces will be reset to 0, as if you were starting fresh. Your safehouse customisations will not be affected.

Prestige in Freelancer is all about risk/reward. Once you’ve unlocked everything, you can start fresh with a higher base payout and XP bonus, earn the trophies for your Safehouse and show off your Prestige Level.

Okay, this sounds great! It'll be a bit painful to lose all weapons at once, but the XP bonus is very much needed once you reach 90.

And Prestige trophies? What a cute idea. Now I imagine Diana giving them to 47 when she's exceptionally proud of him.

ICA FACILITY CONTRACTS MODE

On May 11th, we’re expanding Contracts Mode to now include the ICA Facility location. More specifically it’s the Freeform Training mission that takes place on the yacht. Many of you will have spent hours and hours here in the HITMAN 1 beta back in 2016 and we’re excited to see what contracts you create here. Look out for some of them in the Featured Contracts section soon!

Still kinda happy about it. It's a fun training mission, and it always felt weird to have Contracts Mode for the final test, but not for the yacht!

I'm not too much into Contracts Mode in general though, so not sure how much I personally get out of it (apart from playing the featured contracts that will come).

NEW UNLOCKS

The Black Bruiser Suit The "HITMAN" Challenge tasks you with completing any Freelancer campaign on Hardcore Mode. We think you’ll agree it’ll be worth it. Plus, if you’ve already managed to do that, the suit will be yours instantly when you launch the game after the patch. Get started now and claim it on May 11.

Finally a reason to play Hardcore Mode.

Exploding Pen As the old phrase goes: ‘explosions speak louder than words’. That’s never been more true with the Exploding Pen you can unlock by heading back into the Patient Zero campaign and eliminating Craig Black under some specific and fitting circumstances. This item was previously an Elusive Target exclusive unlock in HITMAN 2, but we’re making it available to all World of Assassination players through this new challenge.

Still super excited about this! I love not only that they're making the original exploding pen available for everyone, but also even more the challenge they picked for unlocking it!

(Also, can Patient Zero please get more love?)

PATCH NOTE HIGHLIGHTS

At the time of writing, there are 87 individual fixes, tweaks and improvements ready to roll out in this patch. A lot of focus has been on player frustration around the Freelancer mode since launch, but there are also some more general fixes for the game in general that will keep things tight, but also have an impact on Freelancer indirectly.

Oh boy oh boy, let's hope the things that annoy me will get patched!

Only sharing the ones I care about here, read the full list of highlights on IOI's blog!

Spycam Toggle (Freelancer) We’ve added an option to “Hide UI” when using the Spycam. This was in response to player feedback that the UI elements can make it difficult to identify the finer details of a character with the elements permanently visible. For example, seeing whether a suspect was wearing earrings.

YES! That's great, not only because the UI made it impossible to see details at times, but also because it made taking nice photos in Showdowns impossible.

Perfect Shooter Tweak (Freelancer) We’ve made a change to the ‘Perfect Shooter’ objective (Do not miss a shot, you will fail if any shot misses a person), that will make an exception for security cameras or recorders. The objective text has also been updated. In short, you can now shoot security cameras and recorders and still earn the Perfect Shooter objective.

Really? I wouldn't have expected them to listen to those who complained. Not mad about it, because I like to shoot cameras, but how can you think it's unfair that shooting a camera fails an objective that tells you you'll fail it when you fire a shot that misses a person?

SA Recorder (Freelancer) We’ve updated the Prestige Objective description for SA/NF and SA/SO to mention “Destroy Surveillance Recorder” if the player gets recorded. Previously, this wasn’t mentioned and the objectives would be failed on mission completion if the player was recorded but didn’t destroy the recorder.

Happy about it. I usually don't forget, because I always erase the footage before I leave a mission, but so many people failed Hardcore because they didn't know it wouldn't tell them.

SA Reward (Freelancer) We’ve adjusted the Payout objectives and Prestige objectives to make Silent Assassin / SA Suit Only (SASO) and Silent Assasin / No Firearms (SANF) objectives more rewarding.

Fair. I usually pick Silent Assassin objectives, so I'm pleased.

Patient Fox We’ve also removed the forced disguise restriction on the Club Entrance Starting location in Berlin for the main campaign. Same goes for the default starting location of the Patient Zero mission in Hokkaido.

Oh! Oh that's nice! Really happy about it!

Looking forward to May 11th! 😀

[zonerz]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Tagged by da bestie @a-problematic-writer for this !!!!!

How many works do you have on ao3?

There's 14 atm!!!

What's your total AO3 word count?

Sitting at 569,356 rn :] thank u Answers LMAO 😭

What fandoms do you write for?

MCSM, Sonic, Kingdom Hearts, and anything that catches my fancy and eye in the meantime! Basically whatever! Also got some FF and Danganronpa peeking in :]

What are your top five fics by kudos?

Answers, Would You Like To Dance, MCSM Prompts/Drabbles, Demyx Drabbles oop-- 😳, Sonic and the Black Knight? More likeSonic and a Lot of Trauma

Do you respond to comments?

Yes all the time and all of them!!! I love interacting with readers and having conversations!!!

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Probably the SatBK one LMAO sorry my beloved. Maybe I LIED HOW COULD I FORGET. ALVI. IT'S THIS ONE.

What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Im honestly not sure??? They all, despite having their angst, tend to end on some hopeful notes or some kinda resolution 🤔it's also kinda hard to judge tho bc a lot are just drabbles and little thought experiments for me :]

Do you get hate on fics?

I've had the pleasure of not yet encountering any!

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Not my thing! I can barely write two characters holding hands without feeling like a whore LMFAOOOOO

Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

Not typically where I specialize!

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of 😭👍

What's the longest you've spent working on one fic? And the shortest?

ANSWERS. MY GOD. I've been working on Answers since December of 2018 and she's still going and gonna be 5 years old soon which is CRAZYYYYYY 😭😭😭 That said, I wouldn't have it any other way and I'm still very excited for it and the future of it as I'm FINALLY getting into some of the meat of it that's been on the docket since 2018 :]

As for shortest, I'm pretty capable of getting a fairly long drabble out in just a few hours, so that'd probably be the shortest time I have.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not on Ao3!

What's your all-time favorite ship? From all fandoms?

I can't easily pick one but I do feel like Sonic and Shadow's dynamic has like. rewired my brain LMAO

What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

the Demyx Drabbles mentioned earlier. Mainly because they were a set of character explorations and a lot of my own ideas and thoughts have changed pretty drastically from when I started writing those, so I've lost the idea spark on that line of thinking. Im still COMPLETELY unwell about that little weirdo, but in a different flavor now

What are your writing strengths?

Character relationships, motives, and dialogue and maybe a bit of ilke??? Atmosphere????? I do my best to write it well at the very least!

What are your writing weaknesses?

Action sequences are always a fucking bitch bro 😭 same with like physical descriptions and scenery--I don't know if it comes across like that but I always put in extra effort and time to refine these aspects before putting something out because I want them to be the best I can make them at the time 👍

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I'm open to it but personally would like to have a little familiarity with the language and its nuances myself before attempting too much lest I fall into the trap of like. Google translate ruining shit 😭

First fandom you wrote for?

Sonic!

Favorite fic you've written?

Answers is VERY much my pride and joy rn :] to me it's more than just an MCSM fic/continuation, it is 100% a love letter to MC as a whole which was just huge to me growing up. I've completely thrown myself into all corners of it's world and lore as well as throw in fun little references from things I loved over the years and done my best to stir them all together in a way that feels naturally cohesive, fun, and semi-realistic in a way that doesn't like snap a reader out of their suspension of disbelief! I want it to be engaging and natural and overall just a fun experience :] 💖

I can't think of anyone to tag rn (brain so so empty) so if anyone wants to take a stab at this go ahead!!! :]

[mayzie-grobe]

✨i've been playing the sims 4 since it came out, nine years ago !! and i wanted to show off as many of my legacy founders (and heirs) as i found the time to makeover. list of their challenges below !!✨

ellie cahill + rhiannon irving ⭐ classic legacy gen6 heirs

i've never completed a full 10 generation legacy, but the closest i ever came to was my mahi'ai family legacy--link to plumtree in case anyone's curious--that i made probably about four or five years ago. both of these girls are cousins and were my next gen heirs, sharing the title, but i never played passed their teenagehood because my cc became outdated and then my laptop died 😔

gunnaifer glock ⭐ vampire legacy founder

okay gunnaifer is..she's special to me, ok. my first semester at college, as a joke i had two of my friends make vampires in the sims and then i made gunnaifer so we would each have a vampire. because vampires (technically) don't die, the legacy didn't get very far...but maybe someday i will share her heir, and apprentice, kovo'lettre.

sienna kibo ⭐"i'm surrounded by idiots" challenge gen2 heir

i don't remember much from this challenge other than it being a lot of fun, and showing me the extent of the parenting skill (lol). maybe i'll pick it back up with sienna, but it has stayed unplayed for years so...who's to say.

cyra ⭐ black widow challenge founder

okay !! so cyra was created with a friend of mine a couple years ago, i think i played the challenge for about a week before outdated cc made me drop it (exactly like the classic legacy). cyra got to husband number 5 and she had 2 kids, and i don't remember her last name and i didn't write it down anywhere and i think that's both funny and sad. curse the game for automatically updating it when you get married !!! 😡

anika dreamer ⭐ nightmare legacy challenge gen2 heir

i don't remember much from my nightmare legacy, so when i opened it for the first time in a long time i was surprised to find all the sims i did remember had DIED. which. given the challenge made sense, but anyways so i revived anika to make her over. she had already completed her challenge and passed it on to one of her three sons, but she was a globally-renowned comedian and a stylish old lady. i love and miss her.

himiko kibo-tan ⭐ not-so-berry legacy gen3 heir

the one and only time i tried to do the nsb challenge, i got to himiko and i lost a lot of the motivation to play. i've thought about starting over, if not the whole thing than just generation three, but haven't gotten around to it. again, maybe someday !

rosalie ember ⭐ spellcaster legacy gen2 heir

THE LEGEND. im not even lying when i say that i spent multiple hours in the middle of the night, crazy out of my mind, trying to find this save. i must have deleted it for some reason ??? anyways, after accessing my old hard drive i finally found an older version of the save that had my baby rosalie in it. her makeover is probably my favorite. and yes, one of her parent's is morgyn ember. 🧙‍♂️

if you actually read ANY of that,, thank you,,, !! i don't think any of them will pop up on my blog again but..i don't know. anything is possible lmao 🤔

[sith-as-heck]

I posted 3,580 times in 2022

That's 2,002 more posts than 2021!

388 posts created (11%)

3,192 posts reblogged (89%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@canichangemyblogname

@gffa

@justalittletomato

@flythesail

@hannah-schooler

I tagged 885 of my posts in 2022

#star wars oc - 122 posts

#oc: zeerleah phys - 70 posts

#andor spoilers - 69 posts

#oc: azena zok - 68 posts

#kenobi spoilers - 50 posts

#oc: lokki riss - 37 posts

#star wars fanfiction - 34 posts

#oc: skye riss - 21 posts

#oc: jeron andor - 19 posts

#oc: syn'da riss - 19 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#as someone who spent like five hours in jail on sunday can confirm that the only way to not scream like a howler monkey is to dissacate like

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

A soft moment.

A glimpse into Maul and Lyn’Ri’s home life with the Twins.

Anyone visiting the home of the Crimson Dawn would relay the information that it is a place of horrors on the planet of Dathomir, That the ghosts of the long dead witches still haunt the desolate wastes. They would say that Maul, the syndicate's leader, who remains hidden in shadows half of the time, was a man to be scared of, a beast whose very presence makes your blood turn to ice. They would tell his bodyguard, an unassuming pink Twi’lek, that you shouldn’t blink in her presence in case she takes the second of lost sight to slit your throat.

In the living quarters, Lyn’Ri and Maul were completely different, Only those extremely close to them knew that the building held a treasure more important to them than stolen credits and gifted gems.

Tempest and Rogue, were small, They barely reached Maul’s durasteel shin, yet to him, they were the universe. 

There was Tempest, with her crimson skin and bright pink eyes with tufts of pink hair and Rogue, with strands of jet black hair, dark red eyes and pink skin.

They were the perfect mixture of their parents.

Currently, Maul was sitting on the floor, crossed legged and amusing the girls by using the Force to lift their wooden blocks into the air. 

Tempest giggles and reaches for the one closest to her, Maul smiles and moves it away from her chubby fingers, causing her eyebrows to knit together in annoyance.

“If you want something, little one, you must get it yourself.” 

“I don’t think a two year old needs to be taught the harsh truth of life just yet.” Lyn’Ri walks over and picks the block out of the air, handing it to Tempest, who grins and sticks it in her mouth to chew on. 

Rogue gets to her feet and grabs one of the floating blocks.

“Rogue understands what I meant.” Maul gestures to her “Perhaps Tempest has inherited your softness.”

Lyn’Ri laughs, only Maul would call her soft. 

“She can afford such a weakness.” Lyn’Ri ruffles Tempest's hair “She has us to protect her.”

Maul makes a noise of agreement, He would die to protect his little ones, no one will ever hurt them for as long as his hearts beat.

13 notes - Posted February 15, 2022

#4

its in my blog description but in case you didn’t see:

If you ship: 

Clonsest, Obikin, Rexsoka or Reylo (not to mention the people who ship Obi and Leia but I’m certain those are trolls because no ones that brain dead) UNFOLLOW ME.

Also if you fetishise:

The clones

Slaves 

I hope someone takes a baseball bat to your knee caps.

16 notes - Posted September 30, 2022

#3

I have so many thoughts about Anakin Skywalker and no doubt could write for pages upon pages about the tragedy of his character but when I see him all I can think is

‘Ooo pretty boy’

20 notes - Posted May 11, 2022

#2

WIP Meme!

@wokenhardies tagged me on my main for this, so here we go <3

Rules: write the last sentence of your WIP.

‘He grins and she chuckles, How amazing how one person can make her feel so much better.’

 Tagging: @starcrossedjedis  and Anyone who see’s this can tag me in their own &lt;3

62 notes - Posted May 30, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

The animators of TCW and its spin offs really said here’s a almost realistic Liam Neeson but we refuse to unwhitewash our clones

70 notes - Posted October 28, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[moonchildridden]

Ohhhhh, a tag game, nice. Thanks for the tag @gillianthecat

NAME: I don’t like disclosing my name online but you guys can call me Amy or moonchild

SIGN: I don’t really believe in astrology but as far as I’m aware, my sign is Libra.

HEIGHT: between 5′5 and 5′6. Sometimes I feel like I am 5′5 but other times, specially when I’m next to my mother, I feel like I’m 5′6

TIME: 11:22 pm

BIRTHDAY: it’s the only day I let myself feel special, contrary to what happens during the other 354 days of the year. I’m an introvert so I don’t like big celebrations, a small cake and a few drinks are fine for me, if not that, you can catch me just listening to music, writing or reading a book.

FAVOURITE ARTIST/BAND: out of the bat, BTS. After them, Dave Matthews Band, Jill Scott and Maroon 5.

LAST MOVIE: Last movie I watched was, if I’m not mistaken, Doctor Strange. I usually don’t watch movies, because I spent my time watching series so it’s very difficult to actually do that. 

LAST SHOW: Last show I completed was My Secret Love (it ended a day ago). Before that, Triage. Both shows are good, I highly recommend them. 

WHEN I CREATED THIS BLOG: Mid 2021? I don’t remember the exact date but it was when Y-Destiny was past half of it, so between May and July I guess.   

WHAT I POST: Mostly analysis/theories of the shows I watch, mainly queer shows.

OTHER BLOGS: I’m thinking about creating a blog where I would post short stories, whether they are about characters of series or my own original characters but I barely can’t keep this one up, imagine another one hahaha

DO I GET ASKS: It’s been a while since I got asks, and I think I only got two so far. Please, send me asks, I would love to get them

AVERAGE HOURS OF SLEEP: 6 but for me to be a functional adult, I need at least 8 and a half

WHAT I'M WEARING: black leggings, a red top and a hat

DREAM JOB:  Being a professional writer. If I got this question 6/7 years ago, I would say “to be a lawyer” but after 4 years in law school, I don’t think I was made for that

DREAM TRIP: Go to London to see the Big Ben, Seoul to see the Han River and Thailand to go to Siam Square.

FAVOURITE SONGS (and quotes from them, just for some spice): They change weekly so...

I don't know who to tag so for those who see this post in their dahsboards, feel free to answer the questions if you want to!

[ausmaeandern1102]

240602 2032

ya, idk what to write next, has been already some hours more. and i should write something. idk what. i don't even know what i spent time with.

yea, i should at least start this here. so i can get back to staring. and then maybe come back to this part. huh. but it's nothing written in here.

various thoughts on not getting a ⻅ at all. various thoughts on only having one 𫝄. meeting. various thoughts on 㧃 10, she never read this at all.

ya, but could i write then something about it, idk. various thoughts on she just flies away august 19 or what, various thoughts on english language grinning and upperclass.

ya idk. and i guess i can write the latest text later, but it would also be unbelievable, or pointless, to state that i would completely abstain from writing for 5 days. ya i could not be able to stress it so that she would still wonder, in case she reads this anyway, of course, which is very much doubtable, in the end. since it takes too much time and barely is even of any worth. takes too much time to read it. also criminally involving, but covid19 also happened.

and the next thing is anyway, that i cannot keep these thought because i simply want her to read it, and could not go without imagining it. that it must be truth, while she also doesn't read it, but she simply knows my thoughts anyway.

but like kevin, the master of night night expanded, all comments are closed. and this is why she won't leave where she is. told you all about what 5yo american children know, and all about black-heart-shaped-box-communists-fascists. this is why i won't change my position, where i allready was all the time, say whatever landscape metaphor is clear, but you won't catch me out. tell me why? that the word "this" still exists is why.

ya, and she just doing her job. and the childfuckers above just being silent. and everything above going up and down, yet also lacking any reference point, with covid19 now finally for sure. maybe all for the best.

and she never knew me at all. of course the other version kicks in, that in this case, i would also say, that it's maybe the best for her to be like. to get abducted and be kicked out in front of my door, and that i then handle the rest, even though she never even heard a single word about me, doesn't know what i look like, or heard any stories about me. but in this scenario also of course we don't get the house, and then it's basically pointless. and not even the 1 1/2 year salary of a regular school teacher you want to give, the whole society, and i assume like a lot of houses are standing unoccupied right now. and the rest, like the whole text i have been writing, you've allready gotten for free, for the price of next to nothing, taking into account that this would be a worldwide, but also nationwide might suffice, society.

and you also of course don't want it. because you are childfuckers who have recognized that they cannot let themselves be seen in public and who have come to the conclusion, that this is jesus' fault, because he doesn't exist. and all they want to raise is their one and only, their only child called murder, but murder was the case.

yea. idk. it's very hard, very hard question, how i should be able to, well it's 2 and 1/2 month. to be constantly awaiting her. and how ridiculous this is. for the most approximate version is still that she never heard of me, no matter how many allusion there are / were / or must be seen by me, in such a many things she has done. but the most approximate version still is that she doesn't know me at all and has never heard of me, and does not know what i look like or that i would even exist.

ya, and with the english voice and the upperclass voice laid out completely, and they call for the devil and the lie and they want to see it, bodily. ya. and what should be 𫞄, what should be behind it all? nice to know that hayley could be said to be targeted directly at me, and nice to know that it also fits perfectly, and that she's like the perfect bullet. but what is that supposed to mean when it's only coming from english language and other upperclass fucks, who .... ya, aren't even worth a single syllable and should be muted, and killed, and murdered, and slashed, and trampled, and cut down, and stomped the very same instant they open their mouth?

ya, what is that supposed to mean then? and even in the never knew - kicked out version, which is very appealing for the first two days, according to the dream evaluation hierarchy of my dreams about her. because she would be .... ya .... completely blank. very appealing thought, of course, if it was easy.

ya, what can i say? idk. yea, as it seems now i have like acquired enought stuff to feel confident about filling the first two days all by my own. in case she was blank and wouldn't have ever even known a single thing about my existance.

ya, idk, and when she reads this, because she does read my blog, then it also is not good, and putting needles doubts upon her.

well, at least that's a new text. maybe as bad as the text before. tho.

ya, very nice thing to know that paul banks seems to live in germany now, maybe he could get me a house, if you'd funnel some money in there, yet it is endlessly stupid, and it should be the MHA, but i also wouldn't, really, like, want, in case that hayley actually showed up, to be without a house. but it's still, you get everything for free, and only wanted to torture people and to drive all christians and still yet everyone into suicide, and for the salary of 2 1/2 year being a school teacher, while you do not want schools or any kind of education, you get the latest part.

this is like very stupid. i assume you want to get everything for free, for extorted, only, and you are childfuckers, and you have understood that you should not be seen in public. because you cannot afford it. maybe help comes.

ya, i don't know, yea, the MHA should do it, because it's worthless, anyway, if the MHA doesn't exist. it also doesn't help to have written this in public. but i watch a lot of youtube, and i am cheap and it would be tooooooo embarassing, beyond beyond and beyond beyond beyond and beyond comparance, if hayley actually showed up here and i have no house to go to and basically have to send her away.

so, last time being drunk, i could also write this. you could like, funnel money through him, and he would be the culprit, and the MHA would be nowhere to be seen, and it would be an act, whatever. of general generosity, which we all have so much and many times to offer to each and everyone. a sign of good hope of the LHA system, maybe. but when youtube wants to show that to me everytime. that i should listen to this interview. and when i'm all out of options. and basically, idk, why not type this in, and it might be the last time anyway that i am permadrunk. and i guess later, i could not even type a single letter of it.

what do you want? idk. the other things with my sickness are hard to say. the questions. i cannot. concentrate on it, for a long enough time. i mean, there is a block anyway, in german, for medicicians, that's how you write it, but physicians anyway in english. yea, block1 all are childfuckers and this is the cause of certain sicknesses block2 a physician ain't a judge. yea, but how this looks like according to english physicians idk. because block1 everything is for man or machine block2 dude get the fuck off, i'm lie4 lie2. autotune autotarget voice software. get the fuck off.

and thus you basically never know the sunset sasprilla. ya, and i would need to have actually worked for 10 years plus in the field, or would need 100 corpses to dissect for free, and otherwise you might not get the necessary knowledge, i mean out of thinking alone, you need experience. out of thinking alone it's basically a lost case.

and i cannot know this, how contagious, how 𫠈 i am, i cannot know this, and you also don't want to study it. because you want to conceal being childfuckers and that this is the actual and first and foremost culprit of the story i am talking about.

and the question on how contagious i am, and the endless remorse that would have need to be felt, in relation to the possibility of having wounded the dear hayley lethally without even knowing that i would so, that i could so.

but you simply block that it's basically, the main stage, that it comes from child abuse. and the latter stages you don't want to discuss. and i also am not too eager about it, for the world should be changed, but you are also blocking THIS.

but i also, yea, it's almost like with paramore, and why should paul banks know me? even though, yea, nyc is quite troublesome, and then conor oberst comes up again, the one you painted blue with whatever. jewelry tears. but it's. i assume. only the english language itself that wants to laugh about natural persons.

yea. idk. yea i can write this here. maybe paul banks needs to travel here and buy a house or something. i mean, whatever. he would be all the culprit. and where he got his money from, you would need to do a case on that. and extort it from him. or the press would need to, but there is no press anyway, anymore, and never was, anyway, anyhow.

ya. but i really need a house. and if hayley would actually show up, and i wouldn't have a house. this would be like the most embarrassing thing that could have ever happen to me.

but now in the back. whatever. the phone slips from a loose grip. words were missed then some apology.

like upperclass or underupperclass getting angry, shoving around, singular others getting involved, trying to phone paul banks with 1/3 of the necessary information, and no funds to back it up. and as that, all the time. without funds. ya. all these guys here swirling around, so common. send off to me for being resembling others, for being lookalikes of others, for reminding me of people i could know and should think about, yet only conveying that not even 2 1/2 year salary of school teacher the whole society wants to offer to jesus itself, neither alone, nor with his bride.

and a house, so hard to get, while so many have died. but it also should be kinda off. because i get paranoid kinda fast. it should, at best, stand a bit alone, a bit off, it should not be in the middle of other houses, with the regular distance between it, it would be tremendously important, at least to me and my shiershi ears, that it be a bit off. having more distance to other buildings, standing alone, doesn't need to be standing completely alone, hard to find, i guess. i guess more a house for people that don't die that easily.

if paul banks asks what this is about. i got youtube, and they highlight paul banks video too much. and in video it is said he would be currently residing in germany. and i know interpol from 2002 / 2003. and they were a nice band, from the sound of it. but i also found out a lot of the implications of his lyrics, while it might be said, that he actually, in case he was good, tried to evade the very exact implications that i had to find out lately to be the main part of everything.

ya. who stands behind it all. an english voice, wanting to see the devil and the lie in body. that's basically what all this be about.