#i work in an office in a dead end town and I have no cat or public transport to go to pride

[ansel-rae562]

The new Doorman

[Doppleganger!Milkman x Reader]

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{Author's note: So I accidentally made a promise to a bunch of people in tiktok so here I deliver you a smut, please note this is my first writing one since I'm more into Angst and I also made this gender neutral as I can so yeah.. Enjoy!}

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First day of Job being a doorman! finally you found a job, looking for one is a bit hard. And this is quite a high pay so why not but this one involves dealing with doppleganger's which is kinda dangerous but the D.D.D assured you that you'll be safe as long as you stay in your office.

After you watched the introductory film explaining about how the job works, you opened the metal window and saw the D.D.D personel

"Welcome and congratulations on your new Job! Remember you have to watch out carefully for the doppleganger's. There are times that the neighbors are not on the list, check their ID's closely and their appearance's as well, or else you and the others may end up dead.. That's all you may continue"

The personnel left and you decided to check the today's list

"Okayy.... So here will be the expected people..."

Izaack Gauss

Mia Stone

Albertsky Peachman

Elenois Sverchtz

Francis Mosses

Anastasia Mikaelys

"Wow... Uhuh that's quite alot....but nothing I can handle"

A few minutes later a person came "Good morning, I see you're a new doorman" The woman said as she handed in her ID "Good morning and Yes I am ma'am" You greeted then looked at her ID 'Gloria Schmicht'.... "Uh ma'am? May I ask why are you not in today's list?" You asked "Oh It's cause my mother had an emergency and I had to be there" After checking all the files and seeing almost no anomalies you called the apartment just in case and found out that the wife is actually home "Sorry nope, bye" you said immediately pressing the danger button and calling the D.D.D.

Hours passed by dealing with a few doppleganger's which some of them being visually creepy and threatening you till a man came, he was wearing a white button up shirt and a white hat that has 'Milkman' written on them. He looks tired, bags under his eyes showing then he spoke "Good afternoon, here's my ID and entry request" you stared momentarily before deciding to check all information, he also has an attractive voice which made you blush a little.

Learning that his name is Francis and he's the local milkman around town you couldn't help but have a little crush I mean he's attractive, his voice is also attractive, tired guys may or may not also be your type and he does have a pretty decent Job so he does perfectly fit your dream guy. Not long after it's finally night time and also the end of your shift, you packed your items that you brought with you then the one who'll exchange with you arrived "Hey..." She greeted "Hold on a sec, have to make sure you're the real one" you said checking all the workers files "Wow darling... Taking your job very seriously huh?.. impressive" she said with a subtle smile, she has green eyes and bags are shown under her eyes, she looks like she has been doing this for years.

"Well yeah... Don't want to lose a high paying job ya know" you replied and confirming that she's the real one "hmm, Understandable" you opened the metal door and she bid you goodbye "Careful darling, some doppleganger's are hostile and might attack you, here take this it's a 200v taser.... don't worry i have plenty" you thanked her and left to fo home. Walking home is kinda creepy especially at night, you wouldn't know when a creature of some sort is gonna pounce on you right now that's when you heard a rustle on a nearby bush then something jumped out.

It was cat... Quite a big one but it was injured on its side, you went closer and tried to reassure the cat "Hey... Hey there kitty, don't worry I'm a friend.." as you said those words the cat looked at you with a mix of hatred and confusion "I can help... I promise, I won't hurt you like whoever did that to you" The cat slightly calmed down and let you pick them up, you arrived home and put your bag down as well as settling the cat on your table and immediately finding the first aid.

You tended to the cat's wounds and surprisingly it just let you do your work, you winced to yourself finding that the wound is a bit deep "Gosh who would hurt a cat... They're sweet" finishing it up you wrapped the cat up with gauze "there you're all fixed up kitty... Hm.. i guess I could also feed you since you're at my house" you then went to your fridge to look for something to feed the cat and for yourself.

"You settling alright kitty?.." you asked, after feeding the cat you set up a box with a few soft rugs in them for the cat to sleep on and the cat looked at you with content eyes, chuckling lightly to yourself "you know it's amazing how your eyes can actually communicate, it's cute" you turned around to turn off the lights of you room "Night kitty..." You said finally falling asleep. The next morning you woke up and saw that the cat was nowhere to be seen and the window has few paw prints "Dang it I was planning on adopting him" you said sadly then started getting ready for the day.

Arriving at your workplace the girl from last night greeted you "Good morning darling!, did you have a good rest last night?" She asked "good morning, Yeah I did thanks for asking" you replied then she opened the metal door and went out "uh... You're not gonna check if I'm the real one?..." the girl turned around and said "Would you be asking that if you were a fake one?... And besides you're new it'll take a few days before they decide to copy you" she turned around again and left. Starting your shift like what you did Yesterday, letting a few people out giving them an entry request for when they come back, dealing with a few doppleganger's, letting people in once confirming that they're the real one till finally the guy from yesterday came; Francis "Hi mr. Milkman" you greeted, he looks a bit surprised when he saw you "Oh uh... Hello... " he said smiling slightly, you blushed then he handed you his ID only but you looked closely you saw he has a small mole on his left cheek which the real Francis didn't have. You kinda have memorized what he look and a few of his information from the files.... Kinda creepy of you but you couldn't help it, he was now your crush "Oh... I'm sorry, my good sir but I actually have this guy memorized and you're not him..." You said and before you could close the metal window you humped as he banged on the somehow sturdy window "What?!... How could!-... I see you like little mr. Milkman.. " the faker said his eyes were really angry and creepy "Yeah nope bye." you said then pressed the danger button and called for the D.D.D. Minutes later the metal window opened "There was no one in sight but I suppose the doppleganger already left before we arrive, you may now continue your work"

The day ended and you switched shifts with Loira, the name of the girl that you work with she bid you goodbye and you went home. Weeks later the things just go by on a repeat with some of them you going on a late night grocery, what's really interesting is that the doppleganger who always pretends to be Francis, he'd show up you find a small detail that the real Francis doesn't have, he'd get angry telling you things like "I'll get you next time" "I'll fool you one day" "Why are you so observative of the guy" then once you call for the D.D.D service he'd disappear before they could arrive like what's the deal with him?... Earlier he said something that actually sent shivers to your spine "Wait till I devour your fleshy body, Human" that was an actual pretty creepy threat, didn't realize that your already at your doorstep from a long day, you set down the groceries on the kitchen counter and went to take a quick shower and change.

After that you arranged all the groceries, it's pretty quiet around your house since you live alone, your parents on another country and your house is pretty far away from other residents so you'll be aable to hear anything out of the ordinary. Going up the stairs to sleep you decided to stretch around a little while you do so, you felt a weird sensation going up your leg, you looked down and a black substance of sorts but before you could scream another one covered your mouth as other one's quickly wrapped around your legs and arms separately, along your torso as well completely immobilizing you.

You looked around saw... Francis?... but his eyes are dark with white glowing dots on the middle "Hello... Doorman, I did say I will get you... Didn't I?" He spoke. You were confused, scared how did he know where you live? "Hey... Hey there... Little human, no need to get scared after all I'm a friend.... Aren't I?" That's when realization hit you. The cat that you helped was a doppleganger "you know human, you hurt me when you set your eyes on someone else... I thought you liked me?... Didn't you say so yourself?" He said which earned a muffled confused rambling from you "No... You must pay for making me believe you... " Before you could make another confused noise the tentacle like substance was removed around your mouth "What now-" you were cut off by something shoving into your mouth deeply making you gag, it was one of his tentacle.

[NSFW part]

He relentlessly attacked your mouth making you gag, you tried to squirm away but it was futile he has you wrapped around his other tentacle's. By then your eyes then started forming tears, you looked at the doppleganger of Francis which amused him "Look at you... Such an expression... I want more.. " he said. He set you down on your bed having your arms up above your head as he crawled between your legs "I did say I would devour your fleshy body... Don't worry it's not in a way I would eat you to the bone" he then slowly tore your garment earning a gaged up moan from you. He looked at you directly seeing that lewd expression from you also looking at him, he then slowly dipped his down between your legs which made you moan once again. You couldn't help but moan while he completely eats you out while also making you suck on one of his tentacle's, you were completely helpless making you take all of the pleasure like obedient slave.

That's when you felt something go in futher inside you, it felt like a very long tongue reaching up to the parts that you never could reach and hitting you perfectly on your spot making your body jolt and moan loudly than before "hmm?... is this your spot...?" He said while his tongue was still deep into you, he fastened up the pace than before almost a bit too fast than normal making your body more hotter and eager for a release. Not long after you came he adjusted himself, he humed in satisfaction "this will do..." He said then he removed the tentacle from your mouth as you looked at him with tired eyes "aww.... Already tired? Unlucky for you I'm not done yet" he adjusted his position, you didn't even notice that he entered you once again but this with his cock which made you yelp in surprise. He mercilessly pounded at a fast not giving you a preparation while his other tentacle's explore your exposed especially around your chest, waist and neck and his hands holding your thighs firmly to keep your shaking legs in place.

Release after release, you couldn't keep up anymore till you passed out from complete exhaustion and pleasure. He finally unsheathed his cock from you and loads mixed both of his and yours spilled out, staining the bed beneath the both of you. He then looked at your passed out form, your heaving chest, your belly slightly bulging and your beautiful sleeping face... "Such a perfect human.... I just wanna keep you" he fixed your sleeping form in a much comfortable position and pulled a blanket over before making his way to the telephone and dialed a number "Hello... Loira hey! I called a bit early so I could inform you that I'm sick..... Yeah please do.... Thank you I will bye!" He turned back to you and layed beside you "Rest now, my human...."

[zo3mess]

Bitter-sweet

Summary: Officers from other towns were reassigned to help the understaffed police force in Evergreen after the butterfly massacre. The good old game of cat and mouse begins with Vigilante continuing his shenanigans and one police officer determined to catch him. Except it is not entirely clear who is chasing whom.

Warnings: 18+, smut, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex (don’t be stupid and use protection guys), blood play, gun play (but not really) enemies to enemies with benefits type of relationship, violence, dead bodies, alcohol consumption, foul language. Female reader and no use of Y/N.

Word count: 5.4k (my hand slipped, I’m sorry) 

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Extra songs for this fic

Masterlist of my works

Note: I realized I missed writing so much since I don’t write essays in school anymore and I got quite a positive reaction on my last work Laundry girl (I love you guys fr). This time I tried something different? I feel like this is messier than the last one, lousy idea, but you know how it is. Also I have never written smut before, so get ready for some weird shit. English is not my first language, I apologize for mistakes, especially with tenses. Criticism is very much welcomed! Thank you for every like, reblog and comment, it makes me all giddy whenever I get a notification <3

The Project Butterfly was a case that shocked everyone. Aliens invading Earth? Shady business with convicts led by Waller? Something that shocked you personally was the sudden disappearance of whole police precinct in Evergreen. Whole town ended up with no cops and needed help. Which was a great opportunity for you to start up.

Your dream? Gotham. City swarmed with villains. You needed to prove you’re tough enough for catching real supervillains. Where better to start than Evergreen? You agreed to relocate there to help, however your real target was Vigilante.

Some people said that what he was doing was good, catching criminals and ending their lives before they could do it again. But no one deserves to be above law and deciding fate of souls that can still reach redemption. Even if he helped saved the world from alien invasion.

So many times you saw him creeping through the streets late at night, but never managing to get close enough. After a few encounters, he realized you were specifically after him. A fan who kept a close eye on his work.

And since then, he started taunting you. Leaving a big V with the blood of his victims for you, quite few times even turning the signature letter into a heart. And they say romance is dead.

One night when you were stumbling home back from a bar, you heard weird sounds coming from an alleyway next to an abandoned store. Nothing out of the ordinary you would think, but it sounded like someone was in pain. You would be a bad cop to not help someone in need, no matter if it was past your working hours.

With caution you walked over there, lamp lights did a shitty job illuminating the streets, but you were able to recognize a body laying on the ground. Blood was seeping from under the man who was killed by a clear headshot, judging by the injuries you were able to see.

Quiet shuffling and groaning was audible from a distance. The realization that something is very wrong came far too late. Before you could even recognize what was happening a stranger pulled you around the corner and your yelp was muffled by a gloved hand.

“Shhhh shhh. It’s just me.” Vigilante. As if that made it any better. ���If I remove my hand, will you scream?”

Decisions, decisions. You were more likely to punch him in the face rather than scream, but if he just killed the guy, it wasn’t smart to start a fight with someone riding on adrenaline and someone who is far more ready to fight. You would not cause much damage in high heels, short dress and still tipsy from the bar.

Eventually you shook your head, and he removed his hand from your face. Uncomfortable silence filled the air. Should you even ask what happened?

You searched for his eyes behind the red visor, until you noticed he was staring down. Was he…

“Are you staring at my tits?’’

“Your heart is beating really fast.” A simple observation that mesmerized him. He also wasn’t completely calm, quite the opposite. Since you disrupted his hunt so abruptly. Before you came he had been planning on drawing a nice big V on the floor for you, a greeting he sent you every time he left a corpse behind him.

A gloved hand made its way to your cleavage, pressing his hand against your skin to feel it rise and fall with every shallow breath you took. Your wide eyes followed his bold move, you felt the warmth of his body and it was making you feel insane.

All this time in Evergreen you focused on getting near to Vigilante, to catch him and serve some justice for reckless behavior, for playing God. And now he was closer than ever, even daring to touch you without a doubt in his head, it made your brain circuit.

You noticed he started to breathe faster too, his chest piece was rising with every deep inhale, and even in the low light of the street lamp you saw a dark stain on his mask. It did not take long before he rolled up the bottom half of his mask in exhaustion. No wonder he had trouble breathing when blood was flowing from his nose onto his lips that did not look exactly intact too.  Must have been a heavy fight.

“Not so fast on your feet now, huh?”  You had to mock him for it of course. All this time he was counting on his swiftness, it finally caught up to him.

“Shut up.” Vigilante tried to wipe the blood off his face with his wrist, groaning as he did so. Simultaneously you were taking a mental note that he was in fact comfortable with showing you the bottom half of his face. What was in your head an investigation of a target, he saw as blunt staring.

For a moment you two kept ogling each other. You took interest in the little human part he showed you, bloody puffy lips, clean-shaven jaw and few moles on his cheeks all felt surreal after all this time you saw him as a simple masked head with a red visor. Vigilante on the other had studied your eyes, how bright they suddenly looked, how they gazed at him with curiosity and most importantly how they kept flicking to his lips. He was no genius but a voice inside his head told him there was a tad more to this.

Something about stopping the alien invasion made him bolder, more confident, most of the time he felt like king of the world. Of course, people that knew him as Adrian Chase, a dorky weirdo, had no idea he basically saved the world. But you knew and he loved it.

You saw him as a villain, or at least desperately wanted him to be, and Adrian saw himself as hero of Evergreen. Heroes always get the girl, right? That’s how it should go.

He suddenly pressed his lips against yours, releasing a low painful groan when your noses got smushed. Hands dropped to your waist to pull you closer and yours found their way to his chest. Finally there was an opportunity to touch the expensive suit.

Vigilante pulled away before you could kiss him back. Maybe the alcohol made you much more reckless than you thought. “You taste bitter.” He commented and licked his lips. Was it that surprising? Considering you rocked a perfect sour face every time anyone even mentioned his name.

“I’ve been drinking gin and tonic at the bar.” Immediately as you explained your bitter lips and his bloody ones got connected once again in a far hungrier kiss. Regrets of tomorrow will be ringing in your ears for days. Will you be able to work with peace of mind when you’re making out in a dark alleyway with your nemesis?

His tongue pried its way into your mouth and brought the savory taste of blood with it. Who would have thought this psycho would be a good kisser. Conscience started flipping with guilt when you realized you enjoyed this more than running after him.

Your inner voice urged you to bite his lip, to worsen his wound, make it bleed again. You wanted to get back at him for pulling you into this situation and maybe, just maybe, you enjoyed the taste of copper in your mouth.

Your tongue swiped over his lower lip, searching and then probing into his split lip. The action made him tighten the grip he had on your waist, bunching up your coat. And when you bit harshly on his lip, tugging away and releasing it with a snap, he whimpered out the most sinful noise you have heard. It got stuck in your head, what would you give to hear it one more time. He pulled away in surprise and you got a chance to see your work, lip swelling and beautiful red appeared once again and his tongue licked the new blood that trickled down.

The corners of his mouth twitched upwards before he quickly latched his mouth just under your jaw. You felt the sticky remains of blood he left with every kiss on your throat. It felt good, too good, but he you couldn’t grant him the satisfaction of you bearing throat to him. He did not deserve to feel like a predator, like he could simply latch his teeth into your weak spot.

“You realize that I have to do something about the dead guy, no matter how much you kiss me.” You manage to find the strength to keep your voice steady in between heavy breaths.

“Or you can just leave him here, he got what he deserved,” You immediately missed his warm lips on your neck. “You could get what you deserve too, if only you weren’t so stubborn. I could take good care of you” Vigilante murmured and left his position on your neck. With a little concentration, you were able to recognize two wide eyes staring at you through a red visor, twitching between your lips to your neck, clearly admiring the claim he landed on you. Blood and spit glistening all over your throat, oh could you get any sexier in his eyes?

“I should be putting handcuffs on you and taking you out of here.” You spat back and straightened your back with hopes of appearing taller, confident.

“Only if they are the pink fluffy ones you keep in your top drawer.” Smug smile played on his face as he presented his wrists up to you with a dramatic sigh. Your pink handcuffs? Wouldn't it be too on the nose for a police officer to have kinky handcuffs? He got it wrong anyway, you do not keep them in your top drawer, they’re in the third one. A stupid birthday gift can always turn out to be useful in the right situation.

“How do you know about those?” Blood in your veins grew colder in an instant. Then it hit you, this freak does more than laugh in your face every time you arrive at the crime scene too late, taunting you for every criminal he managed to catch before you.

“Are you stalking me?” Your voice cracked a little, it had been a long night and this just gave it a crown. Eyes glinting with surprise? Anger? Excitement? This is wrong, right? So why did your heart skip a beat at the thought of Vigilante watching you through your window?

“No?” More of a question rather than an answer. Fucking liar. “I happened to be walking around your house when you had your curtains open.” The way he said it was so slurred, he realized his mistake. Gloved hands were twitching along his sides, biting his lip in frustration of fucking up, wincing once the pain of split lip reminded him of his condition.

“Fucking unbelievable!” You pushed him away and with wobbly legs, you slithered past him. “I’m reporting this dead body to the precinct. Pack your shit and go.” You absentmindedly pointed to the dead guy bleeding on the pavement.

Meanwhile Vigilante was still standing there with eyes following your every movement as you walked over to his victim, listening to clacks of high heels. Part of him could not believe you would let him go just like that, especially after you learned of his occasional late-night visits, the other part wanted to run and save his ass, just to play this game a little bit longer.

Before he decided to listen to your order and leave, he took a last quick look at you as you tried to scrub off the dried blood he left on you while searching for your superior’s number on your phone.

 Oh, the fire you two just started will keep him awake the rest of the night, he was sure of it. Whether it was cursing the world for throwing obstacles in his life with a bottle of whiskey or succumbing to his perverse mind in the shower.

After your strange run-up with Vigilante in the alleyway everything started to tangle up more than it used to. Starting with a patchy explanation of why you suddenly found a dead guy in valley without blowing out the truth that you made out with the killer a few minutes after he shot the poor guy.

Sharp mind turned into a dull organ sitting in your head, thinking about Vigilante in the opposite way you should. If you were still in middle school, you would be probably drawing stick figures of him and you with hearts all around while simultaneously stabbing a pencil through his head. Were you truly so weak to his charm? All you needed was to clear your head, right?

Same thoughts over and over again swarmed your head, even after a long day in work. You barely dragged your feet to your small house in exhaustion. You kicked off your shoes in hallway with a sigh and went straight to the living room. All you wanted was to lay on the couch, watch some stupid chick flick and let sleep take you.

The last thing you expected though, was a large figure lounging on the couch in complete darkness. Once you switched on lights you quickly recognized the one and only Vigilante.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” You yelped sternly and swiftly pulled out your gun from a holster, wasting no time to point it at him. You were used to having everything under control, nothing could surprise you, so how did this guy manage to catch you off guard all the time, how did he manage to make your life so messy and most importantly how did he manage to break into your home?

“You’ve been slacking, I wanted to know what’s up.” Vigilante cocked his head up with absolutely no other reaction to being pointed at with a gun. You wanted to shoot him in the face just for this nonchalant gesture.

“You don’t chase after me anymore,” Another bored shrug, this time he sat up on your couch and leaned his head to the side like a confused puppy. “I missed your sour face.” The way his tone changed, from accusing to clear and soft, made you loosen the grip on your gun.

The first time Vigilante got almost caught by you got him addicted even more to the adrenaline. All this time he was getting kick from killing criminals, beating up scums that don’t respect rules. Getting drunk on the feeling of power. But the second he was cutting corners, sprinting through streets with you on his tail, unlocked a whole new world for him.

The intensity of danger, one wrong step and you would catch him, put handcuffs on him and throw him in jail. This little addiction he had was as dangerous as being addicted to any other drug. Doing anything to get another dose, this time it meant sneaking into your house and confronting you from eye to eye.

“How did you get in here?” Overreaction was audible in your question and there was no wonder. Usually secure house was suddenly intruded by the masked menace of Evergreen that basked in running away from you while laughing like a maniac. Now? He came up right to you, giving you opportunity to catch him right in act of breaking and entering.

You just kept standing there watching him walk over to you without fear, without a doubt.

“You forgot to close your bathroom window,” The tip of your gun met his chest piece when he finally stopped right in front of you. Even without the benefit of seeing his face, you knew in your bones he was smirking “It was hard to squeeze through, I’m expecting applause or something.”

A frown was all he got in retaliation, nothing more and nothing else was in place for his stunt. A sensible reaction from someone whose house just got broken into, he knew it damn well, yet it did not please him.

Vigilante freed his hands from gloves and threw them hastily on the floor beside your feet, all while staring down at you. Curiosity got the better of your conscience, finger slowly moving away from the trigger, but the gun kept being pressed against his body.

Big hands cupped your cheeks, thumbs pulling at the corners of your mouth and forcing them into a lousy smile as his reward. If you refuse to give him acknowledgment it will be taken by force. His laugh was being muffled by the fabric of the dark mask, the one that had blood all over a few weeks back.

That time you were the one under the influence of alcohol that bent your consciousness, this time you felt a whiff of alcohol in Vigilante’s breath. The thought of him having to take a shot or two to give him enough courage to actually step into your territory made you all giddy inside. Maybe the all-mighty Vigilante, the menace of Evergreen, is not as indestructible as he claimed to be.

“Just between you and me, I know you don’t want to lock me up for real-“

“But I do.” You quickly interrupted him. Don’t give in.

“No, you don’t. I can see it on your face. You’re enjoying it far too much just like I do.” Debatable. But he had a point. “I mean yeah, you are pointing a gun at me and shit, but you kissed me back that night. That means something!”

He threw his hands in the air and a cheery voice just completed his dramatic bravado. However, as much as you would like to deny it, you did in fact make out with him back in that alleyway instead of doing your job.

“Do you usually make out with police officers to shake them off your track?”

“Just with you.” His hands found their place on your waist and started to play with the belt loops. And you let him continue… What is wrong with you?

“Oh I’m flattered, how is it working out for you?” With a fake smile, you pressed the gun more into his chest.

“You tell me.” Vigilante strikes again with painful truth. Yes, you were pointing your gun at him, but he had you cornered in your living room, hands seductively rubbing your hips and you let him get away with yet another murder. Well done.

His mask got rolled up and you got a chance to admire his lips. Before you could say another snarky remark, Vigilante silenced you with an urgent kiss. It was his time to shine, to bite your lip, to shove his tongue in your mouth and tangle with yours. He gave you no time to think about anything else except him.

“You know how the saying goes: Keep your friends close and your enemies even closer.” He hastily unbuttoned your work slacks, pulling the zipper down far too hard you were afraid for a moment he got it stuck. Even though you should have been more worried about the fact you just got your pants shown down your thighs.

“You consider me an enemy?” You sighed out and focused on his warm fingertips playing with the elastic of your underwear. Touches light, like his fingers were asking for permission. The lack of protests signalized a green light he was waiting for.

“Only if you shoot me.” A toothy grin plastered his face when you pressed the barrel of your gun sternly to his chin and tilted his head up. How could you pass on that opportunity to rile him up like this.

“If it means you’ll stay close to me I just might.”  With those words his hand slipped past the hem of your panties, going straight for the kill and giving all the attention to your throbbing clit. He chuckled at your reaction, how you acted all tough and yet your body begged for his touch.

Your eyelids fluttered at the sudden contact, the precision he held in killing criminals clearly dominated other areas as well. Small and stern circles changed to slow and light flicks and back and all of it was accompanied by an intense gaze that searched for any kind of reaction.

You wonder what color his eyes are, that red visor was not flattering them in any way. Would he stare at you so shamelessly even without his mask or did it bring him a fake feeling of anonymity that pushed the boundaries of this escapade.

Vigilante bent down his head to the gun that lingered near his face. You could not believe your eyes for a second when he pressed a kiss to the tip of it before smirking. He’s practically begging for a bullet in his head with bullshit like this. He did not care he was basically being held at gunpoint.  A decision was made to hide your gun back in the holster harness, for the safety of both parties involved.

Your hands sneaked up to his neck that was bared to you, nails lightly scraping along his prominent Adam’s apple. You soon found out it made him wild, because the second you touched his neck, two fingers were recklessly shoved inside you, forcing out a loud moan out of you.

Shameful whimpers started pouring out from your lips, wetness seeping into your completely ruined underwear. You had to ground yourself against the wall since your legs started buckling under you. The feeling of submission poured over weak body, something you weren’t used to. With an abrupt yank you pulled Vigilante’s lips onto yours to give yourself just a second of control. You will allow him to take you apart with his fingers, but you will control when a how much he will kiss you.

Twisted part of your mind craved the taste of his bloody lips on your tongue again. There was no doubt he wouldn’t tolerate you biting his lip again to make him bleed like the last time. Or would he? You did not dare.

A better option was to sneak your hands to the back of his neck. A bit of hair poking out from his bunched-up mask caught your attention. Now you knew he had brown hair. Add it to his dimples, surprisingly sweet laugh, bold demeanor and an idea of a person is born, suddenly so real. Especially when he was jackhammering his thick fingers right to your G spot.

You wanted more. You needed more. Fingers tried to slip under his mask with hopes he would not notice it when you were distracting him with your tongue in his mouth. This wasn’t fair towards him at all, he was making you feel so good and you were trying to pull his mask off.

If you knew how he looked like it would not be any trouble to find him and arrest him. That’s why you came to Evergreen voluntarily after all. If all of this was just a means to an end…

But Vigilante quickly realized what were you trying to do and caught your wrist before you could continue. “Seriously?” Annoyance seeped from his voice, grip on your wrist so tight to the point it almost hurt. But your wide eyes that stared at him like deer caught in headlights made him soften his hold.

“At least buy me a dinner before you try to pull my mask off.” He laughed it off, but pulled his fingers from your pussy and you whined at the loss.

He let go off your hand and let it drop to your body. Instead he pulled his fingers from your panties and inspected the arousal coating them before bringing them to his lips. The sight alone made you sigh.

“You taste so sweet. If only you treated me so sweetly too.” Fingers popped from his mouth, covered in spit instead of your wetness. Oh, you’re fucked.

“Lose these.” You playfully tugged on his tactical belt.

“So demanding. Very sexy of you.”

The suit had quite a complicated mechanism and rather than losing his pants he just popped the button open to free his cock, hard and leaking precum. Hot and ready to go.

His gaze lingered on you as you pulled your pants and underwear down your legs. Breath got caught in his throat at the sight of your skin. A blank canvas for him to paint.

In an instant he lunged back at you, hooking hands under your knees to raise you up and making you hook your legs around his waist. Heat radiating from his body to your core was such a lovely contrast to the cold pieces of his suit that pressed against you throughout the evening.

“Are we really about to do this?” You were breathless, sandwiched between a wall and Vigilante leaning over you.

“Only if you want to.” So genuine. A man with no boundaries asking for consent, it surprised you more than it should have. “I do.”

“Baller”

Head of his cock swiped over your clit roughly. That bastard was teasing you more and more and enjoyed every second of it. His lips parted in awe, eyes were glued down to watch the pretty sight. You became something more than a police officer going after him or prey for him to take, but God forbid if he ever admitted that to you or even himself.

“I hate you.” Voice was shaking with anticipation and so was your body. A quick chaste kiss washed away the hate you felt even if it was just for a second, then he slid into you in one clean glide until your pelvises were flush against each other.

You both moaned out into each other’s open mouths. Someone would say it was just a noise of shameful lust. For you? A nasty symphony that set off something inside, the same type of addiction that controlled the man in front of you.

“If you sound so heavenly when you hate someone I’m really curious how you sound when you love someone.” He licked his lips and bucked his hips up to force another sweet mewl out.

“Go to hell” You knew it did not sound convincing and that fucker saw right through you. Because if you truly hated Vigilante so badly he wouldn’t be balls deep inside you, stretching you out with burning pleasure. With another vain chuckle, he started snapping his hips into you with urgency.

Vigilante filled you in the best and the worst way possible. Relieving the thirst your body was screaming with as well as putting a patch over the deep hole of anger and frustration he had been digging in your heart since you met him for the first time.

There was nothing gentle or graceful about what happened. Messy, desperate, vicious, and addictive is what it was.

You tightly hold onto him with arms around his neck, clinging like a koala.

If only your squad saw you like this. You have been boasting and promising how you’re gonna be the one to catch Vigilante. And here you were, it seemed he caught you more likely. Driving his cock into you in the dimness of your living room like it was his usual nightly activity.

Truth be told, he kept fucking with you all this time to make you mad, but never in a million years you would have guessed he will be fucking with you for real.

The strong grip he had on your thighs loosened with every hard thrust. Legs were slowly but surely slipping from his waist to the floor. All his power was concentrated on snapping hips and harsh kisses until nothing was left for his arms to hold you up, yet he refused to let go of you. Gnarly bruises were forming where his fingertips dug into the soft skin of your thighs, making this meeting even more bitter-sweet.

“You can be so good when you want to be,” You barely whispered it against his lips between your combined moans “You’re so good for me. Such a good boy-“

“Fuck I’m gonna cum! Fuuck!” His whine was long and high-pitched, you wanted to hear more of it, but he muffled his cries with a bite on your neck. Normally you would not allow him to bite you, there could always be an exception, and this was one of them.

Especially when he got into a sprint to the finish line, he found hidden strength to bounce you on his cock as much as this lousy position allowed him.

His pelvis was hitting your pulsating clit so gloriously, wet slaps filling your ears, moans and whimpers digging deep into your memory, there was no way you could hold on.

And you did not. Fireworks exploded behind closed eyelids, tingly heat spread from your core to the very tips of your toes, ecstasy consumed every fiber of your being.

Too busy floating on cloud nine to notice Vigilante clenching his teeth around the skin of your neck, creating another vulgar bruise. Too busy to register a loud groan he let out with one last thrust. Too busy to notice ropes of cum coating your spasming walls, filling you to the brim.

His hold no longer supported you when he leaned all his weight on you, chest rising and falling against yours with every deep breath. Being too sensitive to pull out he nestled inside you, basking in the warmth of your cunt.

“You know… You almost got me that one time. After that burglary in the liquor shop,” He murmured against your neck, pressing apologetic kisses to the spot he had bitten. “And I’ve been thinking about it tonight-”

“Where are you going with this?”

“I’m trying to tell you! Don’t interrupt me, dude.” Did he just call you ‘dude’?

“I wanted to say that I realized if I’ll keep fucking you until you can’t walk, you have no chance of catching me.” He pulled away from the crook of your neck and genuinely smiled at your dazzled face.

“Bold of you to assume I’m letting you inside my house ever again. I will remember to close that window next time.” At this point, you started to struggle to keep your head calm.

“Bold of you to assume I don’t know about the spare key in the flowerpot in front of your house.” That motherfucker. Now you have to relocate the key somewhere else.

“Sounds like a threat.”

“More like a promise.”

He pulled out and tucked himself back into his pants without a second thought. You watched with open mouth as he gathered ruined panties and pants while you leaned against the wall with weak legs. He acted so nicely, it made your heart melt. Just a little.

All of this almost made you feel bad for your intentions. You were there to throw him in front of a court and move on to the big league, but Vigilante just enjoyed your presence, your interest, albeit the wrong kind.

“Don’t pretend you hate me,” He handed you clothes and booped your nose with the tip of his pointer. With one last pretty smile, he pulled the mask over his face and made his way to your front door. “See ya later, loser!”

He just left you standing there with his cum running down your legs like it was nothing. Like he didn't just give you the best orgasm you had in a while. Oh God, What have you gotten yourself into…

[ghosty-writes-23]

Cat & Mouse. - Leon S Kennedy

!TAGS!: NSFW Content, !CONSENT IS KEY!, Brat Taming, Blowjob, Praise, No Condom, Hair Pulling, Biting, Marking, Rough Desk Sex, !Possible Part 2! (!MAYBE!)

Pairing: Detective!Leon + Criminal!Fem!Reader.

Rating: Mature.

Summary: “Catch Me If You Can, Detective Kennedy.” You were a sneaky little criminal that always seemed to slip though his fingers until one night…

Word Count: 2.9k

Ghosty's Notes: Hello everybody, yes I am returned with another one-shot, I’m sorry the smut scene isn’t so great this time, but I am slowly getting back into the rhythm of things, I’m going to try and get back onto of smut writing since I have more free time now, so please look out for new stories coming.

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Thank you for all the support, it means alot❤️

-Ghosty❤️

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18+ Content // Minors DO NOT Interact // 18+ Content.

It was a cold and wet winter night in the small town of Raccoon City, the streets were busy with city folk making their daily commute to either home after a long day of work exhausted or hungry, or heading to their night shifts because they had university classes or another job in the daytime.

The scene was peaceful but down an empty alleyway there was the sound of heels clicking and boots slamming against the cold wet concrete at a fast and heavy pace. It was a male police officer in pursuit of a female that was just slightly ahead of him, she always managed to slip through his fingers.

“Stop right there.” The police officer yelled, but the female just ignored him and rounded a corner and was meet by a dead end by a chain link fence, or so the officer thought, when her body hit the chain link fence the police officer pinned her against it, her arms above her head in his gloved hands in a tight grip.

“You’re not getting away from me that easily, not this time.” Leon growled in your ear causing a shiver to go down your spine. “You sure about that detective.” You smirked before you used your body weight to flip you guys over, so now he was pressed against the chain link fence, bit his grip was still tight on your wrist (Let’s be honest, he let you flip you both.)

The move had caught Leon by surprise, but he looked at you with his usual cold and stoic look. “is that so?” the older detective spoke in a low deep voice as he narrowed his baby blue eyes at you in an intense glare, but you just let out a sweet smile as you leaned in closer to him your sweet floral scent floating past in the cold breeze, your red lips brushed against his in a teasing manner, the lipstick leaving a faint red trail across his bottom lip, you could hear him suck in a soft breath as he looked at you with his eyes half lidded.

But as he was distracted your nimble gloved fingers slipped into the side of his belt and grabbed his handcuffs, moving your face closer to the soft skin of his neck, you placed a soft kisses there leaving a perfect imprint of your lipstick but also handcuffed his wrists to the chain link fence. “See you later handsome.” You purred before you used your cat-like reflexes and jumped over the chain link fence, your heel hitting the ground with a dull click, you could hear Leon complaining and cursing while you ran off disappearing into the night.

*A Couple Weeks Later*

It had been a couple of weeks since you had seen your beloved detective, you had been staying in your apartment since that night with Leon was a little too close for your comfort and you knew deep down you sometimes relied on Leon letting you go and not taking you in which you knew at some point he was going to catch you, but it was always fun seeing his frustrated face when you slipped through his fingers.

But tonight was the night of the grand president’s ball that was held every year, on the outside it looks like a normal get together for all politicians, government members such as secret service, police chief’s and any members of the public that have money or an influence over people, but in reality it was where corrupt deals and exchanges happen amongst the people of power freely without consequences.

But lucky for you tonight, you weren’t given an assignments so you had come to just enjoy the free drinks and mood and maybe even see if you could see a certain detective while you’re here. Tonight, you were dressed in a sleek black dress and heels, your makeup was light since you didn’t want to draw too much attention to yourself.

As you slipped your drink a woman walked over to you, she held what looked like a clipboard, she was dressed formally, she was one of the members of staff for this event. “I’m sorry Miss, but it seems your name is not on the list.” The woman said quietly if not to embarrass you knew this may have been a problem, but you always found a way around it. But just as you were about to speak another voice interrupted you.

“She’s with me.” Leon spoke as he walked toward you both, he was wearing a dark blue suit that matched his eyes and a white button up shirt and black dress shoes. “Darling your late, but with how you look, it was well worth the wait.” He says as he took your arm in his in a almost bone crushing grip, as you walked away you could see the female staff member swooning slightly at Leon’s words and display of public affection, it made you roll your eyes slightly as you followed Leon.

He had led you to a private room, once the door was closed his eyes went hard as he looked at you with a glare. “What the fuck are you doing here y/n?” he hissed at you as you closed your arms over your chest. “I’m working, just like you.” You say cooly as you looked at the older detective with a small smirk on your lips. “who are you working for?” Leon asks his gaze was fixed on your every move as if he was trying to predict If you were friend or foe in this moment, because deep down he didn’t want to have to hurt you, but he would if it really came to it.

“You know I don’t kiss and tell.” You say cheekily, as your gaze was fixed on him as well, you both could feel the tension that was between you two, it was always there when you two were together. “your stealing information and documents.” Leon says his voice was cold matching the stoic expression on his face. “I just get what my client wants, since they pay a very high price for their product.” You say as you walked over and leant against the desk and crossed your heeled legs, your gaze no leaving Leons.

“I’m not going to let you get away like the previous times.” Leon spoke, his voice was stern, and firm and it sent a shiver down your spin, causing you to bite you bottom lip slightly. “Catch me if you can detective Kennedy.” You taunted him slightly with a wide grin on your lips, you really enjoyed this little game of cat and mouse between you two it made you feel excited. You heard him slightly growl under his breath before he stalked over to you, your face’s inches apart as he rested his gloved hands against the desk behind you could smell the scent of his cologne.

“I will hunt you down over and over again if I have too.” He spoke his voice dropping a few octaves deeper as his blue eyes burned into yours, your lips were millimetres apart from each other, the older detective’s words sent a shiver down your spine and made your heart rate skip a beat before you moved in closer and brushed your lips against his, just like the first time in that alleyway. “And I’ll slip through your fingers every single time.” You teased him softly with a small huff of a laugh.

It seemed your words had an effect on him because the next moment he is grabbing your hips and pulling you closer before your lips meet his in an intense and passionate kiss, you kissed him almost immediately as your hands moved to grip the jacket of his suit and pull him even closer to you as a soft noise left your lips as you bit his bottom lip and tugged on it, your lipstick was smudged on Leon’s lips as well, but soon Leon pulled away from the kiss, you both were breathing heavily.

“You’re such a fucking brat.” Leon growled as he grabbed out his handcuffs and placed them around your wrists and clicked them into place. “You know you love it.” You teased him back before your roughly pushed down to your knees, your knees hitting the ground with a dull thud, you knew this time it wasn’t going to be loving or gentle and that made your pussy clench in anticipation and need.

As he was undoing the buckle on his belt you took the fly of his pants zipper between your teeth and pulled it down in a teasing manner as you looked up at him innocently. “Is this what you wanted huh?” Leon asked as his gloved fingers threaded into your hair and pushed your face into his clothed bulge.

His scent alone with enough to make your brain go all fuzzy, you inhaled causing a soft whine to leave your lips as you lolled your tongue out and began to lick his bulge over underwear like the desperately and needy thing you were. “Yes, I’m sorry for being a brat.” You say innocently with a swipe of your tongue, a wet patch was forming, and you could faintly taste his precum through his briefs.

“you’re a bad lier sweetheart.” Leon says as he grinded his bulge against your face, teasing you since there was a barrier of his brief’s. A soft whines leaves your lips as you hated the barrier between you and his cock.

After a few more whines and nuzzles into his thigh, Leon finally pulled his brief’s down slightly and your eyes lit up like lights on a Christmas tree, you eagerly gave his cock a few licks and kisses and humming softly at the taste before you took him in your mouth, your pillowy lips wrapping around the tip of his cock as you sucked in your cheeks and started to bob your head at a slow rhythm making sure to savour this moment.

You made soft suckling noise as you took him deeper with every stroke, he felt heavy on your tongue, the weight providing you a sense of comfort that you have only experienced with this man, you used your tounge to touch every ridge, bump and vein as if you were trying to commit the memory of his cock to your brain.

“Such a good girl when your mouth is full.” Leon taunts slightly as the fingers in your hair were helping guide your head as your warm and wet mouth glided down his cock with practiced ease. You wanted to glare at him for his words, but you were so lost in pleasure that you didn’t care what he called you or said, so you just stayed there like his obedient good girl soaking up the pleasure he was giving you, because at the end of the day you just wanted to be his good girl.

As you bobbed your head, he was occasionally hit the back of your throat, causing tears to well up on the corner of your eyes, as well you’re your jaw was starting to hurt as your mouth accommodated his size, but you quickly blinked the tears away and ignored the pain in your jaw focusing on pleasing him.

“Since you have been a good girl, do you want a treat?” Leon asked as he slightly tightened his grip on your hair, you could feel him twitching on your tongue, he was close. You nodded your head as you looked up at him through your lashes, the older detective gave you a small smirk as he began to thrust into your throat causing you to choke slightly, your cuffed hands were planted on the ground to try and keep you steady as Leon used your mouth like his own personal toy.

After a few moments he gave a grunt before he buried his cock down your throat and came, you gagged at the sudden intrusion, but you swallowed as much as you could before he slowly withdraw from causing you to cough and slightly gasp for air. “You okay?” Leon asks when he hears your pant like breaths, you nod your head taking a few deep breaths before you looked up at him with your makeup all smudged. “I’m good.” You reassure him because even if the scene are rough, Leon always likes to make sure your okay and if you really need to you can use your safe word.

“Good because I’m not done with you.” Leon says making you bite your lip at what he has planned next for you, after a bit of shuffling Leon had you bend over the desk, your cuffed wrists hanging over the edge as he was pulling up the bottom of your dress now, you knew he wasn’t going to eat you as a punishment, but you knew his cock was good if not even better then his tongue, but you don’t like to pick favorites.

The older detective pulled up the bottom of your dress and rested it on your back as a needy growl left his lips, you had decided to not wear panties tonight as the seams and edges of your panties would have been visible through the dress.

“Fucking hell.” You heard him course under his breath when he noticed how wet you were, a soft giggle left your lips as you wiggled your hips enticingly as you heard him. “this will have to be quick.” He grunted as you felt him grinding against you, he was bare and slightly soft from his orgasm before, but you could feel him hardening again against your folds as he used your slick to coat his cock because he knew he didn’t need any lube with how wet you were, what can you say you like a dominant man in uniform or a suit.

“Okay, wait do you have a con-.” You start to say before your cut off as a soft gasp leaves your lips as he started to move inside of you causing a whine like moan to leave your lips as his cock stretches your pussy, “That’s it sweetheart, take every inch of me like the good little slut you are.” He says huskily as he pressed more inches inside you until he bottoms out, his hips flush against your ass, the stretch made your eyes roll to the back of your head as you felt a wave of pleasure crash into you like a tidal wave.

Your pussy clenched around him you could feel every ridge, bump and vein. You could feel every ridge, bump and vein of his cock, it was hardening inside you making a slight tremble run through your body as you gripped the edge of the desk, he always filled you perfectly as if you were made for each other. Once he was fully inside you let out a shakey breath before you started to move your hips back matching the pace of his slow but deep thrusts, it felt as if he was in your gut, this was so much better without a condom you don’t know if you will be able to go back after this.

The sound of your sweet moans and cries as well as Leon’s grunts and curses and the sound of your bodies colliding together filled the room, you couldn’t believe you were being bent over a random person’s desk at a government related event getting your pussy pounded by the detective that is meant to be putting you in prison for your crimes, not fucking you like a lover or random hookup, it made this situation feel more dangerous as there was a risk of getting caught.

“Fuck Leon.” You cursed softly, his name falling from your lips sweetly in a gentle moan before you felt one of his gloved hands moving to your hair and pulled it back slightly exposing your throat to him, to which he started to kiss and bite leaving little marks as he picked up the pace of his thrusts, pounding into you from behind, the slight pain from him tugging on your hair caused you to arch your back and slight tighten at the pleasure filled sensation.

“You going to cum for me sweetheart.” Leon asked against your neck, you could tell he was close too because you could feel his choke twitching inside of you. “yes.” You moan out soft as you moved your hips to his rhythm, your thighs were trembling at this point, with one last thrust you came biting into your hand to muffle your moans as you felt Leon’s teeth sink into the soft part of your neck, you felt him soon follow as he filled your pussy.

*After A Couple Moments.*

You two finally had caught your breath, Leon had pulled out of you carefully with a soft pop before he cleaned himself up and helped you off the table, the cuffs where still around your wrist which caused you took look at him with a raised eyebrow. “Am I under arrest now detective?” you ask him with a small smile as you watched him fix his hair and the mess you both had made on the poor persons desk.

“I’m going to be taking you in.” Leon says as he grabs you by your cuffed wrists, your chest lightly bumping into his as he looked at you with a slight smirk. “but we still have some unfinished business.” He says and in that moment you knew this was just the beginning of a very passionate night between you and your little detective possibly in the back of his patrol car before he takes you to the police station.

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©Ghosty-writes-23, 2024. all rights reserved. !I DO NOT! consent to translations or replications or reproduction of my work on any other social media platforms and or make AI Bots without my explict consent and permission.

[shaylogic]

DBDA Season 2 Wishlist Part 3

another anthropomorphized animal love interest or two for Edwin

deep Cat King lore and maybe even a whole Case on him. are there other cat kings in other towns? when he loses his last life, does another random cat become king and know how to shapeshift suddenly?

both Tragic Mick and Cat King are directly involved in helping Niko get back

Cat King's next crush is Niko but he takes a softer, sweeter approach to it. He learned from Edwin's conversation with him at the end of season 1, and Niko's recovering from being dead(?). Maybe he guides her through whatever shared supernatural experience he and she may have

Halloween episode

I know they wanna do a winter holiday special, which I'm sure could be very fluffy. But in the comics, at least, the winter holidays is also exactly when Charles died, so we could have some angsty hurt/comfort about how different this year with friends is

Child actors hired to portray younger flashbacks for our core four (Niko, Crystal, Charles, Edwin) in their living childhoods with their families of the past

More on Tragic Mick's involvement with supernatural goings-on... where do all the items in his shop come from? Is he a trans-dimensional being, and how? (He is in the comics). What's his deal with neutrally providing items to the heroes and villains alike?

Full blown Kashi episode/case

Another love interest for Crystal as other relationships are shifting around?

Adaptation of Crystal's comic story of losing a friend (Rosa) to a spirit in the Neitherlands (probably proxies onto Niko in the show)

Live Girl Detectives on their own case without the boys (like we got a bit of in s1e8)

Animal companion/pet for the office. The actors said in an interview they'd love that (could just be Monty tbh)

Dream sequences for our protags that have nods to The Dreaming and may even have a glimpse of Morpheus in it backround

Jenny is swayed by a cute and badass Londener to give dating another shot

While traveling through a mirror, it shatters/cracks, and one of our ghosts gets stuck!! (Also a comic event)

The gang is able to interrogate more information about how the afterlife works from the Night Nurse

Feel free to add your own wishlist in the reblogs/comments! <3

[dontforgetukraine]

Tetiana, 73, in her basement in the front-line city of Toretsk, Donetsk Oblast, on July 3, 2024. (George Ivanchenko / The Kyiv Independent)

A basement in the front-line city of Toretsk, Donetsk Oblast, on July 3, 2024. (George Ivanchenko / The Kyiv Independent)

Life in the basement

His friends and colleagues have evacuated, and his family has gone: “My mom was sick, there was no heating in winter, so I sent her to Dnipro for free treatment. Then she died. Now I’m alone, I have no one left.” “I don't believe the radio – I believe only my eyes. This has been going on for 10 years now, and I don't know where it will end.” In the next basement room, where 73-year-old Tetiana lives with her daughter Oksana and an elderly neighbor, a woman's voice, speaking Russian, is just audible on the radio. ”We listen to anything, just to hear something. I'm grateful to my neighbor because he made a battery-powered radio, otherwise we'd be like moles here. You could go crazy just listening to explosions,” says Tetiana. Tetiana now takes care of dogs and cats that people left in their apartments when they fled the city. “I have eight dogs here, and I don't know how many cats,” she says. “I feed as many of them as I can find – I can't even count them. They’re all hungry and dehydrated. I go out to feed them and run into the bushes if there's a drone flying. It's very scary. But what can I do? I feel sorry for the animals too.” Tetiana previously worked at a sanitary inspector’s office, and her daughter worked in a mine, maintaining flashlights and lanterns for the miners. “I don't think about anything, I don't want to think about things – I don't want to be sad. We think about staying alive. We’re on the brink.” She starts to cry. “We’re on the brink. But I can't leave the animals behind.” The women have some food and water, but not enough candles and batteries for their flashlights. Their phones are all dead, and anyway there’s no cellphone signal here. They try not to leave the basement because of the constant attacks. “Shells and drones are falling all the time, and the worst things are the warplanes. Warplanes and artillery,” says Tetiana.

Source: Land on fire: Russia's offensive in Donetsk Oblast brings destruction to new towns (Photos

[valscodblog]

So-I s'pose ye'll be needin' this.

@thealtofvalleyxdoodles's sideblog <3

SHIT ABT ME! (Sorry for the horrible fake scottish accent. I am A Soap girlie thru and thru.)

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Call Of Duty: Modern Warfare one, two and three (Fuck the ending of three omfg) also-LONG LIVE '09 GHOST AND SOAP!

Call of Duty: Ghosts (Keegan <3)

Hazbin Hotel (so random compared to my other fandoms)

Baulder's Gate Three (I dont remember how to spell it-)

Resident Evil

The Witcher (I blame my father for getting me into this)

Dead By Daylight (Is that a fandom? If not-let's make it one)

DC/MARVEL Comics and some of the movies.

Uncharted (i swear-the first game i played i nearly died bc OMG "God Girl" AHHHH! Nathan Drake the man you are, Nathan Drake.)

Gravity Falls (I watched it as a kid-and re-watched as a grown ass adult. Still love it.)

and prolly some more i cant remember rn.

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Office Workers, John Price x reader, Season one

"One night only" Simon Riley x Reader (will be worked on soon)

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Pronouns: She/They Age: 18 (19 in Nov.) Race: MEXICAN

Fav Foods: Tacos, and Banana Bread Fav curse word: FUCK

Fav Color: P U R P L E Fav CoD Character: uhm-Soap?? (was that a question-? jk jk, it was.)

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Requests for x readers (Male, female, non-binary, all of it.) and x oc's! (I will tag you). I do allow people to use my Oc's for thier fics, I just ask for a tag and some credit! I do allow requests with dark themes. I ALLOW DARK THEMES ON THIS BLOG. DEAD FUCKING DOVE-DO NOT FUCKING EEEAT, OKAY!? I WILL NOT HAVE MY BLOG BE BLOCKED BC YALL DONT KNOW HOW TO READ WARNINGS! Anyways! I do allow a wide array of kinks! (Yes i do NSFW) and yes-i do take art requests-its just very hard atm bc my ipad is very old and porcreate no longer works-and my new one is on the way. (i used Amazon-im sorry but i dont feel like gong into a damn store-PLUS IT WAS BLACK FRIDAY!! :) ) I do allow you to nickname me aswell!

(sorry for this gifs-i just needed to see my husband)

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GO FOLLOW MY MOOTS!

@skauni @needa-sum-luvn @seconds-over-first @thebunnednun @writing-with-moss @mishellii @crazyfandomluver @staytrueblue @devil-in-hiding @artistic-vixen <3333

[thesconesyard]

It’s time for the third tale in this story and time for Yeehawgust!!! Yay for the Enterprise Ranch!

Underneath the Western Sky

1. On the Road Again

Leonard McCoy stood for a moment on the front porch and looked out over the Enterprise ranch. A small noise came from by his feet. He didn’t need to look to know it was Jaylah’s pet cat Franklin. The little cat had decided from the start that he was McCoy’s shadow. Anywhere he went on the ranch Franklin followed.

At first McCoy had found it extremely annoying, but one day the little cat had given him warning before he had stuck his hand next to a rattlesnake. McCoy had become reconciled to the cat then and accepted it as his fate to always be tailed by the ‘wee beastie’ as Scotty referred to him.

Scotty was in the house behind him helping his brother pack. Robbie would start in town at the post office the next day and would be staying in town.

“C’mon then,” McCoy said to Franklin and stepped off the porch to head for the barn. He’d get the wagon ready for the brothers. Franklin purred at his feet, but made sure not to get in McCoy’s way as he walked.

At the barn pasture he found the ranch’s owner, James Kirk standing with Pavel Chekov and Jaylah.

“Hey Bones!” Jim called.

“Hey kid,” McCoy replied.

“Need help hitching up?” Jim asked.

“Sure, if you’re offering.”

“Come on Jaylah, let’s see what you can do,” Jim grinned at the young woman. She had been on the ranch just over a year and had been working hard learning to be a ranch hand.

“Let’s go!” she replied.

McCoy followed behind them with Chekov.

“So,” McCoy began slyly. “You two seem to be getting along real well lately.” He glanced at Chekov from the corner of his eye. The young man had blushed.

“We have always gotten along,” he replied quickly.

“Yes,” McCoy said. “You have. But lately—”

“We all get along Doctor!”

McCoy smothered a chuckle. Ok, Chekov didn’t want to talk about himself and Jaylah.

“Well, whatever you two have going on, I’m glad for you both.”

Chekov made a choked noise and McCoy saw his color turn more red.

“Da.”

McCoy drove the horses as Scotty and Robbie chatted away behind him. He felt a touch alone up front by himself, but he couldn’t grudge the brothers their time together. They had been apart for years, until McCoy had secretly reached out to the brother still in Scotland. In the end it had turned out that there was no need for the brothers to still remain no contact. The people who had threatened them were long dead.

“Well, where are ya going to stay?” McCoy asked as they came to the edge of town. “The hotel? Or did you sort out somewhere else while we were gone?”

“The hotel for now,” Robbie said. “Miss Gaila had rooms cheaper, but Mr. Farrell said it would look better to be at the hotel.”

McCoy chuckled.

“There’s nothing wrong with Gaila’s,” Scotty protested. “But I ken what he means.”

“We could stop in before heading back,” McCoy said over his shoulder. He drove the wagon up the street, and straight into the yard next to the hotel.

“Of course!” Scotty exclaimed. “We’ve got to celebrate!”

“You alright?” McCoy asked as he and Scotty drove home as the sun began to set.

“Aye,” Scotty said and slid a little closer to McCoy. “He’s just a quick trip to town away now. I’d have loved if he’d stayed on the ranch, but I understand.”

McCoy smiled.

“I’m just glad he’s back,” Scotty continued. “I know I’ve said it many times already, but thank ye so much for writing to him love.”

“Your welcome darlin’,” McCoy said and moved the reins to one hand. He put the other arm around Scotty. “I’m happy you’re happy.”

[perspectivestarters]

Perspective's Sentence Starters; 1989 (Taylor's Version) by Taylor Swift (Part II)

WILDEST DREAMS

Let's get out of this town.

Heaven can't help me now.

Nothing lasts forever.

This is gonna take me down.

He's so tall and handsome as hell.

He's so bad, but he does it so well.

I can see the end as it begins.

Say you'll remember me.

Say you'll see me again.

Even if it's just in your wildest dreams.

No one has to know what wе do.

This is gettin' good now.

You'll see me in hindsight.

Burnin' it down.

Someday, when you leave me, I bet these memories follow you around.

HOW YOU GET THE GIRL

Are you insane?

It's been a long six months.

You were too afraid to tell her what you want.

That's how it works.

That's how you get the girl.

I want you for worse or for better.

I would wait forever and ever.

Broke your heart, I'll put it back together.

Remind her how it used to be.

Tеll her how you must have lost your mind.

You left her all alone and never told her why?

That's how you lost the girl.

You know that I don't want you to go.

THIS LOVE

I could go on and on.

And you were just gone.

I never dreamed of this.

This love is good.

This love is bad.

This love is alive back from the dead.

These hands had to let it go free.

This love came back to me.

Struggled through the night with someone new.

You showed up just in time.

I watched you leave.

When you're young, you just run.

You come back to what you need.

This love left a permanent mark.

This love is glowing in the dark.

I KNOW PLACES

It's a scene and we're out here in plain sight.

I can hear them whisper as we pass by.

It's a bad sign.

Somethin' happens when everybody finds out.

Love's a fragile little flame, it could burn out.

They are the hunters, we are the foxes.

I know places we won't be found.

They'll be chasing their tails tryin' to track us down.

I know places we can hide.

Lights flash and we'll run for the fences.

Let them say what they want, we won't hear it.

Loose lips sink ships all the damn time.

Just grab my hand and don't ever drop it.

They take their shots, but we're bulletproof.

You know, for me, it's always you.

I know, for you, it's always me.

CLEAN

The drought was the very worst.

The flowers that we'd grown together died of thirst

It was months and months of back and forth.

You're still all over me like a wine-stained dress I can't wear anymore.

Hung my head as I lost the war.

When I was drownin', that's when I could finally breathe.

I think I am finally clean.

I punchеd a hole in the roof.

Let the flood carry away all my pictures of you.

I screamed so loud, but no one heard a thing.

Just because you're clean, don't mean you don't miss it.

I won't give in.

Now that I'm clean, I'm never gonna risk it.

WONDERLAND

We fell down a rabbit hole.

Nothing's as it seems.

Didn't they tell us, "Don’t rush into things"?

Haven't you heard what becomes of curious minds?

Didn't it all seem new and excitin'?

I should have slept with one eye open at night.

We found Wonderland.

You and I got lost in it.

We pretended it could last forever.

Life was never worse, but never better.

There were strangers watchin'.

Whispers turned to talkin', and talking turned to screams.

Didn’t you calm my fears with a Cheshire cat smile?

It’s all fun and games 'til somebody loses their mind.

I reached for you, but you were gone.

I knew I had to go back home.

You searched the world for somethin' else to make you feel like what we had.

And in the end, in Wonderland, we both went mad.

YOU ARE IN LOVE

Time moved too fast.

No proof, not much, but you saw enough.

The light reflects the chain on your neck.

No proof, one touch, but you felt enough.

You can hear it in the silence.

You can feel it on the way home.

You can see it with the lights out.

You are in love.

He keeps his word.

For once, you lеt go of your fears and your ghosts.

You're my best friend.

He keeps a picture of you in his office downtown

You understand now why they lost their minds and fought the wars.

I've spent my whole life trying to put it into words.

NEW ROMANTICS

We're all so tired of everything.

We wait for trains that just aren't comin'.

We show off our different scarlet letters.

Trust me, mine is better.

We're so young, but we're on the road to ruin.

We play dumb, but we know exactly what we're doin'.

We cry tears of mascara in the bathroom.

I could build a castle out of all the bricks they threw at me.

Every day is like a battle.

Every night with us is like a dream.

We're the new romantics.

Heartbreak is the national anthem.

We are too busy dancin' to get knocked off our feet.

The best people in life are free.

The lights and noise are blinding.

It's all in the timing,

We need love, but all we want is danger.

We team up, then switch sides like a record changer.

The rumors are terrible and cruel but, honey, most of them are true.

Come along with me.

Please, take my hand.

Please, take me dancin'.

Please, leave me stranded.

It's so romantic.

[squadrah]

So I don't know if you've already answered something like this but this is something that keeps slipping my mind. La Squadra are described as men who "aren't trusted by anyone" due to theor professions. But...I can see Formaggio, Prosciutto, MAYBE Gelato being among the few ones who have a proper social life (outside La Squadra). How would that work though? Do they hang out with normies/civvies but aren't totally close with them? Do they lie about their jobs to them or don't answer if they're never asked?

Hmm, I'm actually not sure if I have ever tackled this! They are definitely not trusted by anyone at Passione (and seeing as how they are basically the garbage disposal to the "garbage" in and of the mafia, that is understandable), and they probably have no daytime jobs because then their movements would be extremely limited - imagine excusing yourself from the office and hours later a murder occurs, etc. In this manner they are also isolated from work, and it would make sense for them to have left their families behind long ago, if they had any to begin with.

But I like the idea of a semblance of a social life, so I'll go with the three characters mentioned!

Formaggio: He seems young and hot-blooded enough that he would never be out of place at a club or bar, but I think his primary source of social life would come from the streets. I can see a stray cat of his caliber having a wide territory, and being an outgoing person in every sense, he would end up casually chatting with fellow loiterers, street food vendors, kids and adolescents - whoever is around. Think Mista asking the two girls if they wanted to play; that is exactly how I imagine Formaggio going about it. It's not a deep thing, of course, because most of these acquaintances were made slightly, so it's always the most superficial chitchat you can imagine, but even just exchanging a "yo!" or "how's it hanging?" with his own ilk would be enough for Formaggio to feel like the talk of the town.

Gelato: He likes to go to town as much as the next guy, but unlike Formaggio, he doesn't roam about because he has a handful of favorite haunts where he can sit down and crack open a cold one at the bar, and chat up whoever is sitting next to him. Nobody really gets familiar in the seedy places he enjoys the most, so he can usually get away with "If I told you what I did, I would have to kill you!" followed by a hearty laugh and a call for more drinks, and nobody will think anything of it - and since he has approximate knowledge of many things, he will always find some topic he can discuss, or coax some interesting subject or drama out of a down-on-their-luck patron and chew it over with them over a packet of cigarettes. At any rate, Sorbet and the gang are more than enough for him to never feel lonely.

Prosciutto: I left him for last because his case is the trickiest for me personally. On the one hand, he strikes me as someone who isn't a great deal in need of society because he has at least one person if not eight people to micromanage, but on the other hand, that would be the perfect reason to get away from time to time, right? He, like the rest, would probably spend a good time at the gay bar down the street and drink or play cards, but I could also see a more unconventional avenue for him if he used The Grateful Dead to age himself. Imagine him doing that and joining an elderly book club where he can talk about stuff he's read and all he has to do is lie about his life and maybe have Ghiaccio pick him up sometimes parading as his grandson. The gossip there is amazing, by the way.

[the-cat-chat]

August 31, 2024

Land of Bad (2024)

When a Delta Force team is ambushed in enemy territory, a rookie officer refuses to abandon them. Their only hope lies with an Air Force drone pilot as the eyes in the sky during a brutal 48-hour battle for survival.

Warning: Review may contain spoilers. Read at your own risk.

JayBell: Where oh where did it all go wrong? I’ll tell you where. The STUPID phone sequence. The movie started out pretty strong. I felt attached to the characters—Liam Hemsworth aka Froot Loop is like little bro to the team. Russell Crowe is the old, wise mentor and the dynamics are established early on.

I think it's a unique idea to focus on drones in the field and the connection between drone operators stationed away from the action. Lots of military movies don’t shine a light on that specific aspect of modern warfare.

Okay now the phone. The movie establishes early on about the inability for these obnoxious immature military personnel to answer the phone or even act like adults, which is an odd thing to portray in a military movie anyways.

I think this whole phone fiasco at the end (which I think is an attempt to create suspense) should be removed entirely from the movie. The whole cutting back and forth from the phone to Russell Crowe at the store is silly and a waste of time. Also the speech Russell Crowe has at the end felt forced and cringy. I felt actual secondhand embarrassment for his character. Don’t force feed dialogue like that to make the audience feel something. Let the story and the relationships you build between the characters do their job on their own.

Plus he takes a golf club to the tv, and in the end, what does this accomplish? The immature assholes don’t get punished or reprimanded and Russell Crowe is the one who looks crazy. In fact, i would also remove the entire plot line of Russell Crowe having a problem with authority and his fellow colleagues that contributes to the phone scenario.

Here’s what I would have done. Realllly focus on the relationships. The relationship between Liam aka Froot Loop and his team is there. And there is the beginning of the relationship between him and Russell Crowe, as well as Russell Crowe and his work partner. I would have Russell Crowe be in the chair for the entirety of the movie “with” Froot Loop until his eventual rescue. No phone sequence, no weird confrontations with the superiors. Have more heartfelt conversations like the brief one they did have about their home town and dead fathers. Make that the soul of the movie.

Because what’s interesting in the movie is the relationship between these two officers, both dedicated to a common goal, one who is far away and desperately trying to protect his new friend.

Keeping Russell Crowe in the chair, removing the phone sequence and those weird confrontations with superiors, leaves room for this relationship as well as more relationship between Russell and his work partner.

Also they try to throw in this deeper message of drone versus human killing and I think it’s shallow. The bad guy is also underdeveloped and boring.

I'm sad because it had so much potential. Also, I have to admit I'm sad because he never finds the Froot Loops.

Rating: 5.5/10 cats 🐈‍

Anzie: I had no idea on what this was beyond army guys and a huge cast- plus I noticed Russell Crowe since we just watched Gladiator. But can I say what I didn’t expect was for them to like allll “die” instantly. That being said I also thought a good 15 minutes in about it being Chris Hemsworth??? And then I was like Liammmmm??? I always forget about him. And you know who else I forget about the otherrrrr brother. But I do have to say it was such a bold power move to cast those two in a role together and act like they aren’t brothers.

Speaking of- the acting is really great- you don’t think oh that’s Russell Crowe or whatever bc everyone really gets into their roles. And can I sayyyy Russell Crowe’s character’s backstory is a doozy. So many children. Anyway. The plot is cool- even tho at times lost their actual mission bc that quickly just turned into “get off the island alive.” And can I say that mission is utterly gory. I closed my eyes at times. Like a baby.

Now. My biggggggg problem. Alllll those losers watching basketball. Now listen. Say you’re so dumb big shot doing heavy operations for the UNITED STATES GoVeRNmenTttt. If the phone rings and you know people are on a mission where they’ve all either been killed or are being chased just how about one person answers the phone. No take it off the hook. I think between all of the one guys mustache had more brain cells. And you know what. I’m sooooo glad Russell Crowe’s character took that golf club to that stoopid tv and berated them like the children they are. I was so sick with rage at the thought that bc they were watching sports everyone would die. And I knowww they couldn’t end it on that bc that’s so obviously not cool. But I’m reallllly glad they all made it out alive and everything. The onnlllly thing that would’ve made it better is if the drone team and the actual rescue team met in the end. But I can’t get everything I want righhht?

Rating: 7/10 Cats 🐈‍⬛

[mdhwrites]

The Roughness of Soldier 11

I like Soldier 11. I REALLY wish she was a better main DPS because I have her and I'd like to use her. I have her at full trust and seeing her makes me smile.

I don't really think about the fact that she is SOLDIER 11 very often besides it being silly flavor. Why is that? Why is it someone said that Belle11 was a cute ship but without enough angst when there is PLENTY (I'll include two obvious examples at the end of the analysis portion) to mine between the two of them?

Well, it comes down to two elements. The first is overall tone of the game and the second is specifically how we've been introduced to her. And a reminder: Neither of these are inherently bad, hell even no longer seeing her as a soldier is that big of a deal, but they're interesting in the cascading effect they have.

Let's start with her start: Her companion missions. They start exceptionally silly, with a cartoon level villain as the antagonist and a silly codename for you throughout the entire thing. That fits with the rest of the writing though and I ADORE her missions, with her first one making me consistently lose it, especially as she played along with her own set of lies. As they continue, we get more somber moments with her, and even one moment where she straight up admits to war crimes...

But what sticks from her mission set? Well, she continues to interact with Inky, her joke about spicy food is constantly reinforced and she continues to call us by varying versions of our codename. The silly elements, not the somber ones. Worse yet is also due to mechanics. The rebels are just another enemy type. They aren't very special to be fighting and can blur with the ethereals and raiders as just another enemy faction, not an opposing army. That robs a lot of bite out of the task that Soldier 11 faces as a soldier...

And that's strictly a good thing. ZZZ after all is much more tonally in line with a Sitcom. Hell, I'd argue her companion mission is essentially in line with a M.A.S.H. episode but with more action. A character who reminds you that the town is at war is kind of antithetical to that sort of tone so her problems should feel akin to Pubsec's problems: They're there but it's not a big deal and no one is in any real danger except for occasional flare ups. That allows for the breezier, sillier, cheesy tone of the game to work.

But it also means that these elements become a part of the churning melting pot of gimmicks and archtypes within the game. They lose their special flavor the more time is spent with them. Do you see Zhu Yuan as a police officer or just a naive, goody two shoes who tries too hard? Do you see Soldier 11 as a bloodthirsty soldier who will do anything for her country, or do you see her as your Kuudere girlfriend who likes spicy food and has weird interactions with cats?

The latter robs much of the deeper bite of the former, at least if you do not do anything to remind yourself of the former. It's like how Guinaifen is my favorite character in HSR but if anyone went, "But she's just a vapid streamer," I couldn't really blame them for focusing on that. It is the core element of her character that is presented, even if the game does a lot to play with that core element. That's without getting into her past, which is only briefly talked about by her, optionally, and otherwise in her character story. It's easy to lose these deeper layers if the writing focuses more on the superficial or gimmicky elements, let alone when much of the writing focuses on those elements.

But again, that's not necessarily a problem. ZZZ knows its tone and a blood psycopath is not a part of that. A clueless girl who doesn't realize her tastebuds became dead a decade ago is. See you next...

Wait, I did promise Belle11 angst potential so here's two angles of it, essentially one for each side:

Operator versus 'Operator': Belle is a bit of a braggart and exaggerator so she absolutely would whine about the danger she faces in the Hollows like she were actually there. Compare this to Soldier 11 who doesn't just fight ethereals when something goes wrong but soldiers actively attempting to murder her in a coordinated effort and uh... She might have some complaints about that. Might even get furious about it as she thinks Belle is trivializing not just her work but the sacrifice of every fallen comrade she's ever had, let alone the danger she puts others in with things like her excursions into Hollow Zero. What right does she, who only ever plays at being in danger, have to claim she's putting herself in the same situation as the boots on the ground?

Soldier versus 11: Soldier 11 is a perfect soldier. She is good at her job, loyal, strong, indestructible. Belle loves all these facts about her girlfriend. The fact that she does so much good work and can keep looking good doing it!... Until the day she's told a rebel soldier had bombs strapped to himself and instead of being interrogated, he exploded while Soldier 11 went to grab him. Now she's in critical condition, unconscious and very, very destructible. Very human, instead of some goddess of war. Which is the version Belle is actually attracted to, especially during 11's forced vacation to recover?

Anyways, see you next tale.

======+++++======

I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!

I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead. If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.

A Twitter you can follow too

And a Kofi if you like what I do and want to help out with the fact that disability doesn’t pay much.

[katxwarren]

tracy spiridakos. thirty seven. cisfemale. she/her. » there’s katherine warren who’s been living in ashford for fifteen years. the diligent currently works as a detective and they’re known for being inquisitive but also competitive at times. rumor around town is that they grew up in foster care as a child. i overheard they disapprove of the changes happening in ashford because stubbornness to change. tw: abandonment, foster care

>> full name: katherine natalie warren >> age: thirty seven. >> birthday: january 11th >> zodiac: capricorn >> gender: cis female >> sexuality: hetrosexual >> place of birth: detroit, mi >> hobbies: >> tattoos: a tiny bird on her wrist >> piercings: both ears.

katherine was born on a bitter cold detriot winter morning and it was only the very next that the tiny blonde baby girl was dropped off at the local fire station, the hospital blanket wrapped around her. a quick and short note with the words 'i'm sorry, i couldn't' attached to the run down car seat kat was placed in. very quickly with no information on who left her, where she came from, and no signs that anyone was coming back for her katherine was placed into the city's foster care system. kat doesn't have many memories of being a young girl just small snippets of different homes decor. by the time she was eight the young girl had given up any childlike hope that her birth parents were ever going to come back and whisk her away. it was the year of her eighth birthday that she decided to stop wishing for them to come back every time she blew out her candles on her cake. she bounced around a decent amount, by the time the she turned ten years old she had already lived in a handful of homes. some times she would be placed in a tiny home filled with way too many kids smushed together in one room. it wouldn't be too long before she was picked up again and placed into another home, usually more chaos and instability than the last. the only consistency that kat truly had was the sweet police officer who would pick her up, offering her a sympathetic smile and a dessert at the local diner before dropping her off at her new temporary residence.

it was by the time kat had turned fourteen when she had made the decision that when she was old enough to be fully on her own she was going to leave the foster program behind and become an officer of some sort. just like the sweet lady officer who would always make sure even if the midst of the constant inconsistency that she was still cared for. she was going to make it her mission that she too was going to have the job where she could help others. doing her very best to work her way through school she enrolled into the police academy by the time she had just turned twenty years old. she worked dead end jobs and did everything she could to put herself through the duration of her police training. her goal of helping others and provide a safe place her driving force. she put everything she had into her school and work and it had shown to others that she came off a bit as an overachiever.

once she had graduated she had been recruited for a police department in ashford, mass and packed her few belongings and made the move, leaving her past behind her in detroit. that move was fifteen years ago and working her way up in the police department, owns a quaint little townhome, even adopting a stray cat and created the life she has always wanted for herself. however, by putting her job first she has neglected, maybe intentionally, the romantic part of her life.

[pandor-pandorkful]

Ooohhh I could use my phone's camera as a usb webcam, looks like there are several ways of doing that... that would be good for closeup stuff like modding dolls and needle felting...

Doesn't solve the base issue of my-internet-is-crap, though.

...different topic but related, there's a job opening at the library for a front desk assistant that seems not so bad... I imagine it's not completely free from phone interactions, though the job description never mentions using the phone as a required task.

I've done reception before and I've done office assistant before, but those were both extraordinary stressful because they were for Accounting and Payroll, respectively.

Maybe reception-assistanty type work that doesn't come anywhere close to the doling out of currency would involve fewer traumatic phone calls from angry contract workers looking to be paid?

(I also did general library shelving and reception work for work-study in college... that sucked cuz the college library director was a pill. But I hear the current town library director is a really kind, Mr. Rogers type of guy. He got rid of late fines! That's a big one!)

It would be nice to earn enough I could not only get off rental assistance, but also afford to get better internet... and it's only 28 hours a week.

But I'm wigging myself out about the whole job application thing. I gotta update my resume... The library isn't super far away, about half a dozen blocks, but I don't have a car or a driver's license... 28 hrs not bad, but 8am to 5pm is torture to this adhd person... especially the 8am part....... and how do you feed your cats when you're gone all day? And your cats also shouldn't be eating kibble cuz it fucks them up???

Would this burn me out worse? Would it make me better? Will the antivaxxers in town end up killing me? Or are they blessedly illiterate ghouls? (Most of them are old hippies, actually. Well, were old hippies. Most of them are dead hippies now.)

Would I even get the job??? I might be too slow, or just.... unemployable.

I dunno man, I need some freaking income and streaming is gonna take years off my life before it comes close to paying enough to live off of. And I've made 1 sticker sale so far. :B I think I need to try applying for this position, at least....

[wouldntyou-liketoknow]

Day 1: Voodoo Doll

(Trigger Warnings: descriptions of gore/body horror, blood, exposed organs, broken bones, eye loss, descriptions of pain and suffering, talk of death/dying, mentions of illegal business, strong language. Please let me know if I missed anything.)

(Yes, this entirely inspired by the art on the NWTB Radio)

Day 2  Day 3  Day 4  Day 5  Day 6  Day 7

Being a high-ranked eldritch abomination came with several, several perks. Technical immortality, partial invulnerability, horrifying amounts of raw power, the freedom to slowly claim ownership over the edge of a world with all but a precious few denizens of said world being none the wiser. . .

Phantom Treble didn’t technically need the things humans needed to survive–money, for example.

But then, creatures like Phantom were a bit like cats: they were infamous not just for making the laws of nature their bitch, but for often doing things just for the sake of doing things.

It was past the club’s closing time; Phantom had long-since sent his workers home, and as far as those workers knew, he’d gone back to his place as well. Phantom would’ve been the only person in the building, but the knocking that suddenly rattled the door across the room begged to differ. 

The door creaked open as a familiar figure skulked into the office.

“I was starting to think you’d bailed,” Phantom said, smiling as he beckoned his visitor to come closer.

“If I did, you would’ve had an excuse to keep bothering me,” the visitor replied, keeping a few feet away from Phantom’s desk.

Bones was, as usual, in rough shape. Bruises were littered all over his face and neck, some larger than others. A red speck could be seen on his lower lip, suggesting that said lip had been busted sometime earlier. His dark eyes (the right one was nearly swollen shut thanks to a purple shiner) were glassy, but not empty or blank.

Four years ago, some factory on the other side of town had been condemned and subsequently abandoned. Phantom had never really bothered to look into the place’s history, but what he did know was that the company’s safety standards had been roughly on-par with a malfunctioning garbage disposal.

Every soul-collector had to be unique with how they went about it. Phantom’s signature was making nobodies into somebodies, though he occasionally offered deals to the odd diamond in the rough or two. But, signature or no signature, the soul business wasn’t just a hobby for Phantom–it was a necessity (plus, anyone who said it didn’t pay to have a stockpile either knew something he didn’t or was just some kind of idiot).

So, since business had been a bit slow around the time of the factory’s shutdown, and since more than just a few people had died in that factory, Phantom had trekked over there to see what he could scavenge. That was how he’d found Bones.

It’d been quite a surprise on both ends—and not just because Bones had been wandering a dark, rust-covered basement for who-knows-how-long, traumatized and confused and angry. Phantom couldn’t remember the last time he’d come across a revenant, but it had to have been a good few centuries. 

Bones wasn’t alive, but he wasn’t quite dead, either. The majority of his soul had apparently moved on to wherever it was supposed to go, but his body had been too stubborn to release the last few pieces of that soul.

Phantom still wasn’t quite sure why (it wasn’t like he could’ve added Bones to the collection), but he’d more or less taken Bones under his wing after that. He’d given Bones shelter—the apartment complex downtown, where Phantom’s contracted and in-the-know employees lived—and taught him the ins and outs of underground work. . .

“So, how exactly are you gonna try and waste my time tonight?” Bones sighed, folding his arms across his chest.

. . .in spite of the fact that Bones wasn’t the best at appreciating it.

Bones wasn’t the type to bite the hand that fed him, but he couldn’t exactly be blamed for his negative attitude. Revenants existed in a constant state of pain. It didn’t matter how they’d died; until they were properly put to rest, they would suffer. 

Along with that, the only way for a revenant to temporarily ease their suffering was to take it out on others—and they didn’t even have to physically harm others to do so.

Trees emitted oxygen, revenants emitted agony.  

Phantom, who made a point to be accepting within reason, had put Bones in charge of protection and interrogations for the shadier aspects of his businesses.

“Can your time really be wasted when you’re dead?” Phantom asked.

“In my opinion, yes,” Bones answered tersely.

(The only way to make a revenant move on was to help them kill whatever poor idiot had caused them to die in the first place. Connections like the ones Phantom had should’ve made finding Bones’ killer pretty easy, and yet here Bones was. Bones loved reminding Phantom of that, and Phantom loved reminding Bones that it wasn’t his fault that the revenant couldn’t remember exactly how he’d met his demise.)

Phantom shrugged. “Well, if it’s something that ends up being beneficial, then I don’t think it’s a waste.”

Bones rolled his eyes. “Yeah, like I didn’t already guess that whatever this is about will end up benefiting you.”

“You’ve got me there,” Phantom admitted, “but you’ll still have something to gain from this particular project.”

“Really.” Bones didn’t bother to feign interest. “How so?”

Phantom’s smile widened; he could practically feel his eyes change from brown to their true color as he leaned back in his chair and began to explain.

Soul-collecting was Phantom’s main drive, sure, but that opened the door to a number of opportunities. And not just for the Black Market (which Phantom already had a few allies to help navigate, although he didn’t really need extra protection. If any of the crazies on that network decided to try coming after him, he’d just have to remove his disguise and their heads would explode. Or their organs would animate themselves just long enough to tear their way out of their bodies. Or perhaps they’d just go stark-raving mad. The possibilities were kind of endless).

Pretty much any aspect of the human world had some kind of counterpart specifically for not-so-human entities. Obviously an illicit trading network was among those counterparts, and Phantom would’ve been a fool to not try and make himself known there.

And the latest trend among irregular merchants? Voodoo dolls.

They were very popular among those who used magic, as well as those with little experience. (It was no surprise how that popularity had skyrocketed during 2020.)

Like all hand-made wares, they cost a pretty penny and weren’t easy to make. In order for one to actually work, you’d need to make it with taglocks from whoever it was meant to resemble. This should’ve made genuine dolls hard to come by, but plenty of vendors had the proper connections. Mainly because they weren’t human.

Bones hummed at the end of Phantom’s pitch. “Weren’t those things originally designed to help the people they were modeled after?”

“They could still be used like that today,” Phantom mused. “But I definitely can’t guarantee that buyers would be so inclined.”

Bones snorted at that, nodding. “Well, this is a creative idea and all, but you still haven’t told me why I’m needed for it.”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Phantom asked.

“It might be, but I don’t like it when people beat around the bush.”

Phantom chuckled. “Can’t be helped, I guess.”

He reached into one of his desk drawers and fished out a small, plush effigy. Patches of red and black fabric had been mended to its felt skin, with a separately-made black waistcoat buttoned around its torso. An area on its face that would’ve made the mouth had been sewn shut, right below two red buttons that stared at nothing.

Phantom held the doll aloft, and a bit of vertigo manifested in his stomach. After a second of hesitation, Bones carefully took it; its head hung limply as though it was exhausted.

Phantom just barely felt the sensation of cold, calloused hands. 

The annoyance on Bones’ face subtly shifted to curiosity as he looked the doll up and down.

“Where’d this come from?”

“I commissioned a toy-restoration artist online,” Phantom explained. “Once it was delivered, I had to make a few of my own touches.” He pointed at the top of the doll’s head, where a small tuft of his raven hair had been embroidered.

“Could’ve been worse; could’ve been a fucking ventriloquist dummy,” Bones evaluated.

Phantom, in spite of himself, cringed at the image.

After another moment of silence, Bones returned his focus to Phantom.

“Let me guess: you’ve got some kind of method to graft my power into the dolls you plan on selling in order to make them more effective?”

“Exactly!” Phantom nodded, grinning proudly. “Think about it—instead of just focusing on the people I send you to deal with, multiple dolls with your essence can alleviate your pain whenever they’re used.”

Something flickered in Bones’ dead eyes. It looked dangerously similar to hope. But it didn’t last. He glanced around the office as he mulled this over.

“How can you be sure that would even work?” He inquired.

Phantom raised his eyebrows, looking back and forth between Bones and the doll. “I figured you could help me with a bit of testing.”

Bones sputtered a harsh, skeptical laugh as he put two and two together. “You can’t be serious. This has to be a trick.”

Phantom tsk-tsked, drumming his fingernails on his desk. “All the time you’ve spent working for me and you still haven’t realized that I only play tricks when contracts are involved? That’s a shame.”

“Oh, please,” Bones scoffed. “I know better than anyone that you only do your own dirty work half the time.”

“Half the time,” Phantom echoed. “Tonight’ll be part of that half. I’m no saint, but I’m not a coward, either.”

Bones squinted at Phantom, still not looking convinced. Phantom squinted right back.

Phantom finally heaved an exaggerated sigh. “Alright, then. You clearly aren’t interested in a bargain, and I’m not one to force someone to do something they don’t want to do.” He leaned back in his chair. “Plus, I was taught not to judge, so, it’s really none of my business if you want to keep being a masochist. . .”

(Phantom knew this wasn’t something you’d want to say to a revenant of all creatures, but he really did need to test the doll out. If it worked that way he theorized, then he’d make a tidy profit and possibly improve Bones’ temperament. Possibly.)

Bones’ eyes widened in disbelief for a few brief seconds. Then, his expression contorted into a vicious scowl. In one swift movement, he gripped the doll’s left button eye and tore it free. A small patch of fabric was still attached to the button, which left a hole to expose the stuffing in the doll’s head.

Phantom’s vision blurred, and he suddenly felt an odd, prickling sensation behind his eye. Then, with a sickening pop, everything to the left of him was swallowed up by darkness. He watched as a very familiar, red-irised, slit-pupiled eyeball bounced onto his desk. Thankfully, the optic nerve kept it from rolling over the edge.

“Well,” Phantom pronounced. “Now we know it works. Didn’t hurt as much as I thought it would, though.”

Something further inside Phantom’s head throbbed and stung, but only to a certain degree. Maybe that was because the eye had detached itself, rather than being forcefully plucked out.

Bones, clearly having expected something other than nonchalance, pursed his lips. “You’re a chaos deity that isn’t supposed to exist on this planet. Of course nothing’s going to hurt you.”

“Ah-ah-ah! You’re assuming,” Phantom chided. “I’ve turned my pain receptors on for this. Just to make sure the doll’s actually effective.”

“Oh! My mistake,” Bones replied in a sardonic tone. “Here, I’ll show you effective.”

Bones clamped the doll’s left hand between his index finger and thumb. His other hand held the doll’s shoulder. It took a few harsh tugs before the doll’s arm gave out around the middle. It didn’t tear off entirely, but stuffing fell out in a few clumps.

The skin where Phantom’s left forearm met his elbow stretched and tore. The radius and ulna were ripped away from the humerus with a loud CRACK. Blood (which just so happened to resemble a liquefied boulder opal) streamed over Phantom’s tattoos, trickling down his hand before dripping onto the floor.

Phantom recoiled with a guttural shriek, now trembling uncontrollably. His fingers involuntarily twitched, and his forearm was basically hanging on by strands of skin. The sensation creeping up his arm felt like a combination of hot water and a blood-pressure cuff on steroids. His breathing turned raspy and sporadic.

Despite the inclination to keep staring at the mess, Phantom slowly turned his head to face Bones.

Bones’ expression hadn’t changed one bit. He released the doll’s arm and turned the effigy over in his hands until it appeared to be looking up at him.

“Had enough?” He asked as he took a single step closer to Phantom’s desk.

Still shaking, Phantom sucked in a deep breath and offered a toothy grin that was as insane as it was shit-eating. “What do you thi—”

Bones cut him off. He clutched at the doll’s sides and back, dug his fingernails into the fabric, and pulled.

One by one, the x-shaped stitches running up the doll’s chest ripped away from each other until the doll had been partially split down the middle.

It felt like hands had materialized within Phantom’s sides, pushing and clawing under his skin. His chest all but burst open, his waistcoat and button-down following in suit. The way his blood gushed out was almost akin to that of a geyser erupting. Each and every one of his ribs pried themselves away from his sternum to a chorus of awful snaps. His lungs and heart remained whole, but the feeling of cold air touching said organs for the first time was less than pleasant.

Phantom forced himself to crane his neck in order to glance at Bones.

The skin of Bones’ face seemed to flicker as the outline of his skull faintly glowed–this happened whenever his ability was active. And for the very first time in a long while, Bones was smiling. The fact that both rows of his teeth were visible through his lips made that smile even more intimidating than it already was. Earlier, his eyes had looked sunken. But now that his orbital sockets were practically on display? They each seemed to be floating in pool of pure black.

“So,” Bones announced. “Who’s the masochist here?”

Phantom hadn’t been planning to respond to that, but Bones still added, “Actually—” before plucking at a loose thread that was hanging off the right side of the doll’s jaw, which tore a small hole in the doll’s face. (The doll’s expression had looked neutral before; now it looked completely unnatural.) “—don’t fucking answer that.”

Skin split along Phantom’s right cheek, looking almost like a Glasgow smile as his jaw promptly dislocated itself. Not that Phantom could feel it. He’d turned his pain receptors off the second his chest had started opening because fuck that noise.

“Look at that; you were right,” Bones admitted. “I do feel a lot better now.”

Bones still sounded sarcastic (that was his default voice, after all), but it seemed he was telling the truth. His shoulders were noticeably less tense than they were when he’d arrived. He wasn’t shifting in place. Hell, some of his bruises even appeared lighter and smaller.

“I guess I could try this project out,” Bones continued. “But I’m not gonna guarantee anything. Because I don’t have to.”

Phantom couldn’t help but snicker, though the current condition of his jaw made it sound very distorted.

Bones’ skull stopped glowing, and his skin returned to normal. He tossed the doll onto Phantom’s desk, grimacing in Phantom’s direction—or, rather, he grimaced in the direction of Phantom’s heart and lungs, which were both pulsating as intended.

Bones shook his head, shuddering. “For fuck’s sake, put yourself back together already.”

With that, he turned on his heel and marched out of the office.

Phantom’s blood (which was hissing and letting off smoke) slowly rolled away from all the places it had splattered against, returning to where it belonged like it was magnetized. Phantom’s injuries repaired themselves in a matter of minutes, although a fuzzy, prickly sensation lingered afterwards.

Well, except for his eye. He popped that back into its socket himself.  

Phantom took the doll into his hands. The poor thing was well and truly ruined, but he figured some time and patience could repair it.

@that-bat  @sammys-magical-au

[mysteriouslybluepirate]

Doom post

At the end of this is a picture of my cat, so if you wanna just skip to that, feel free. She's great, healthy, etc.

Don't read if you're already anxious, in a bad place in life, are directionless etc.. I'm ranting about life stuff, so you know yourself best. If you want to read and are feeling shitty, just wait.

It's winter here in the US. If you are reading this past 4 in the afternoon, you're probably not happy.

So there's this new AI coming up, it allows people to put in a prompt, and essentially ask an ai to write it. This works from anything from school essays, to basic medical diagnoses(enough to tell a person to go to the hospital), to correcting computer code. For the next few years this will be an uphill battle.

I'm just going to ask this now, as a person who is mentally ill and it's hard to hold down a serious job. I can't work or live at a deficit.

What the fuck am I supposed to do with my life?

(For context I'm officially diagnosed with: ADHD, Bipolar Disorder 1 with psychotic features, Depression, and Generalized Anxiety disorder)

After 3 degree changes I wanted to go into English teaching, but that whole landscape will change. Why would a 12-year-old write an essay when they can use this program. In the US, our long-form essay-based classes need to change. Plus, I'm a lesbian with a wonkey gender presentation on a given day that lives in a red state. I'm already not safe, I'm not going to be poorer than now and in dept as a teacher. So that's a no.

I'm in a 10k-people dying retirement town 6 hours away from a 100k-people city. I've already worked most jobs locally and was either let go of or quit due to my being part-time due to college. Got gently let go of from Walmart cause they were getting rid of part-time night stockers. All these jobs were manual labor, no office jobs, no 'lazy' jobs that respect my free time. They don't exist here.

I've tried nursing school, computer science, and engineering as degrees. Around 40-50 credits for nothing. Nothing kept me hooked, I had to be uber-medicated for my ADHD to stay going. I was able to get through high school cause I hated myself and punished myself whenever I was underperforming. I'm to tired to do that right now.

As for jobs-

Retail killed me, I worked WalMart for a year, and another local family owned business for four months before giving up. Unless forced to, I won't be returning.

I've tried Railroad (very male-dominated work environments); it's a trade. I wanted to die, mostly 40-year-old men looking at a 5'9 twig and deciding that's enough of a joke to grab onto for a bit. Not to mention all the touching. That's all there is here, besides specializing in another trade, where I could just get treated as badly. Nursing (where I'll be harassed with a smile on my face like my mother) or fitting in with a red town.

My therapist tells me to 'just go into computer science'. She's one of those people that are convinced that anyone can get a degree and find a good job. She ignores me when I tell her how my ADHD makes it hard to focus on tasks. I just need to 'power through it' and It'll work out in the end.

Oh! And Comp Sci is expected to have an influx of people over the next 5 years at entry-level positions due to the pandemic. No one in my family actually believes me when I tell them this, but I'd be fucked after I graduate. It will be impossible to find work with just a degree. I can't afford to leave for an internship that could cinch me a job.

I can't leave. I can't afford to leave. I'm 20, 21 next month, with no friends whatsoever as I hop around in life. All my coworkers are bigots, rude, or high schoolers, leaving me feeling more alone. I'm stuck in a $ 13-an-hour dead-end part-time job, and don't see an out.

If I left town for college, the only affordable housing is my family in the state I live in. So if I specialize I'll just be at ground zero if I'm forced to flee back to home.

I'm not the fun type of mentally ill that's gotten obsessed with something capitalism can call helpful. I obsess over a pirate show for 6 months, and spend most of my days tired and zoned out. I've tried to be hopeful and find a career that suits me. In every single degree I've looked into that isn't too heavily math-based (adhd) or social-based (probably autism, but no one here is qualified for AFAB people) is going downhill. I don't want to be here for this shit anymore.

Obviously, I've got stuff to keep me alive as concerning as this post sounds. I needed to rant, I'm probably in an episode, and if I was that badly off, I wouldn't be posting online. At the very least I have OFMD s2/s3 to look forward to, and household are kind enough not to point out how much of a dead weight I am.

I've got shitty meds that don't work, and a therapist who didn't know gay people could get married...so there's that.

I can't figure out how to verify this account. I've tried, but I can't see private messages. Reblog/comment if you want to talk. But IDK.

Cat photo reward for making it this far. Her name is Polly. She says hi.

[raybyanothername]

Sloan's Rosary: Chapter Fifteen

Jordan had hoped that bringing Nolana with him from Houston would help Sarah. The cat had been a big comfort to her a few times before. Except… When Sarah had come down stairs this morning Nolana had freaked.

Freaking being hissing and then darting out the front door when Gabe Michaels opened it to leave for work. And now Jordan was wandering around Rose Meadow looking for his cat.

“Nolana!” Jordan called out, nearly doubled over as he inspected bushes along the sidewalk. They were like wooden cages that Nolana could easily get trapped in. So far she hadn’t though.

With a huff he stood up straight. He was officially at the end of the residential area – obvious from the shift from numbered street to named street. Cherry Street, specifically. It appeared to be a main road, since it was a two laner. Small towns were weird.

Cherry Street’s sidewalk had seen better days. It was cracked more than it was smooth and weeds lay dead in more and more of those cracks as he moved east.

“Nolana!” Jordan continued to shout, eyes scanning the other side of the street for a flash of brown and black. He drew the attention of more than a few pedestrians as he got closer to the center of town. A roundabout – Thompson Circle – signaled the point of almost constant stares.

He passed a diner, a bookstore, and a bakery before anyone actually approached him though.

“You must be Jordan!” A woman came up to him, short and plump with a giant white smile. Her grey hair was curly and falling purposefully out of a fancy bun on the back of her head.

Jordan blinked, “How do you know my name?” Her grin got wider, her eyes scrunched closed. Small towns were very weird.

“You’re from the city aren’t you,” her hand came up to pat his cheek, “You poor thing.” She glanced around, almost expectantly, “I heard you’re searching for something?”

He followed her eyes around the town square. The small park in the center had a few children playing. Their parents were not-so-surreptitiously watching him from their spot at a picnic table. His spine straightened a bit.

“My cat,” Jordan focused back on the woman. She had square eyes with long lashes and concealer caked on underneath them. Her smile hadn’t missed a beat – still large and dominate on her face.

“I see,” she gestured with her hand towards the sidewalk, “Let’s see if I can’t help you find it.” They walked side-by-side around the square, “I’m Mrs. MacDonald, dear.” He nodded.

They stopped at each of the store fronts that circled the roundabout. Jordan described Nolana and Mrs. MacDonald’s eyes would twinkle when she told everyone to keep an eye out. It had Jordan rolling his shoulders every few minutes trying to unknot his muscles.

The post office was their next stop and Mrs. MacDonald once more led the way with a mega-watt smile. Jordan trailed behind her.

“Greta!” A gentleman with salt-and-pepper hair and a bow-tie greeted Mrs. MacDonald with a scowl and a hard stare, “Why’re you playing tour guide for the city boy?” The man didn’t look at Joran. He crossed his arms and raised a bushy brow at Mrs. MacDonald.

Mrs. MacDonald laughed, high-pitched and short, “Don’t be rude, Monty.” She patted Jordan’s shoulder, “His cat slipped out the Michaels’ front door this morning and Jordan here has been looking for her. I can’t very well let an innocent cat get lost because she has the misfortune of being owned by a city slicker.”

City slicker. Jordan was not aware people actually used that word. Given the huff that escaped Monty’s mouth he suspected it might have been for his own benefit. Or Mrs. MacDonald’s amusement.

“Have you seen a calico cat anywhere?” Jordan spoke up, addressing the post office at large. It was surprisingly full for such a small town, “Her name’s Nolana. She has a tag, and a black collar.”

There were shaking heads. No words. Monty had his arms crossed, still looking only at Mrs. MacDonald. The rest of the room seemed to be taking their cue from him.

“Saw her on Freesia,” Monty grumbled, raising his chin as he looked at Jordan. Mrs. MacDonald’s smile had turned smug, her lips pressed together softly. “When I was delivering bread to the rectory.”

“Oh?” Mrs. MacDonald’s voice deepened and Monty cursed under his breath, “I thought you didn’t like our new priest.” Eyes all over the room were darting between the two elders.

Jordan was starting to realize why there were so many people here and so few of them talking to the man at the counter. This was the gossip hub – there was a cork board littered with advertisements and a small couch pushed beneath it.

“Why don’t you take Jordan up there?” Mrs. MacDonald’s hand appeared on his shoulder again, her eyes were locked on Monty’s. Monty’s well-wrinkled face was scrunched up in yet another scowl.

No one said anything until Monty blinked and turned to face Jordan, “Come on, boy.” He walked past the two as the room started to whisper. He waved his hand forward, “Haven’t got all day.”

  Jordon hesitated a second, eyebrow raised, before turning to follow after Monty.

“I suppose you came here with the Michaels girl, huh?” Monty grunted out as they stopped at a crosswalk. He looked both ways, his nose twitched up when Jordon nodded, “Shouldn’t be surprised. That girl’s bad luck.”

“Sarah?” Jordan cleared his throat, “She’s having a rough time.” They crossed to the western side of Freesia Street.

Monty stuck his hands in his pockets, “So’s the rest of the town.” He leveled his first look at Jordan, eye scrunched up and eyebrows turned down, “Bad weather, Marlene insists, but last I checked weather didn’t stop at the town line.”

He spat the words out and then picked up his pace. Jordan shrugged. The sooner he found Nolana the better because interacting with the denizens of Rose Meadow was becoming a bit of a roller coaster.

“I suppose you think I’m crazy, huh?” Monty kept on. Jordan kept his mouth shut. “I’ll have you know Sarah was the only one in the meadow the day before the wind changed,” Monty’s hand came up to point across the three-way stop sign, “The flowers haven’t been blooming right since.”

Jordan followed his finger. There was a church, and beyond that a field of grass – a dusty shade of green. No flowers.

“Your cat was skulking around the edge,” Monty turned around, chin raised and eyes narrowed, “Try not to piss off Rosie any more than she already is.”

Small towns are weird.

Jordan crossed the street and, having met his ghost encounter quota for the month, did not enter the meadow. “Nolana!” He shouted as he walked the edge. He crossed behind the church.

A wrought-iron fence rose up just a few inches from the meadow on the other side of the church. The ground on the other side of it was covered in patchy dirt and concrete slabs.

Jordan looked to right, “Cemetery,” and then to his right, “Haunted Meadow.” There was a thin strip of ground that ran between them that Jordan played balance beam on as he walked it.

Nolana’s head popped out from the tall grass ahead of him. Her ears perked up as she prowled closer. Her shoulders were up and her back arched. High alert.

“Could you not run off on me?” Jordan bent down to run his hand through her fur. Nolana meowed at him. It did not sound like agreement to him. She twisted beneath his fingers and then darted between his legs. Tripping him.

Jordan landed on his shoulder, his weight pressing the grass down to the ground. A breeze whispered over him. He sighed and rolled to lay on his back, knees now bent to keep his feet firmly outside the perimeter of the cemetery.

Nolana brushed against his side. Jordan rolled his eyes, “You’re mean.” The breeze pushed at his back when he sat up. He pulled Nolana into his arms, which earned him an annoyed hiss as he situated her to keep her from running off again.

When he stood up a shiver went down his spine. He looked over his shoulder. There was nothing there.

“Shit!” There was, however, a shimmering woman on the other side of the iron fence when he faced forward. She had dark blond hair, pulled into a severe bun and thin lips that were pulled up in a kind smile.

Jordan side-stepped away from her. Her gaze followed him until he turned the corner of the fence. Another breeze pushed against his shoulders and Nolana squirmed in his arms. The woman was gone.

There was no path on this side of the cemetery. Just a tree, situated half-way up the length of the fence. It was short, a stick still tied to its thin trunk to keep it growing straight. A few branches broke off from the main, but there were no leaves.

At the base of the tree was a small concrete slab with the name Sloan Georgia Acker in strong letters. Jordan paused in front of it. His eyes traced the name. He’d only known the ghost, angry and cruel, but under her name – in the same strong lettering – were the words ‘A Kind Soul.’

The Catholic Church in Rose Meadow was a small, defiant building. It was the oldest of the three chapels – the Protestants had a large 80s era building on the eastern side of town and the Baptists proudly claimed the shiny white steeple that dwarfed the whole southern half of the town. In comparison, the little church that could on the northern edge was simple.

Wooden siding that needed a new layer of paint, grey stone steps from a 90s renovation clashed with the old red bricks used to repair the foundation in ’81. Saddie had never noticed any of that growing up.

His eyes had always focused higher – on the steep gable roof with traditional Spanish tile. The tiles had lasted over fifty years before needing to be repair when Saddie was 11. He’d spent a week rushing over to watch the roofers after school.

It was the most perfect building in all of Rose Meadow for those Spanish tiles alone. They were the reason Saddie had come here after what was – by his estimate – the worst conversation he had ever had with his sister. The fact that the tiles were on the church was completely coincidental.

So, at 2100 on a Tuesday, only thirty hours after Abe had died, Saddie was shuffling his feet over the recently buffed wood floors of his childhood church. He was walking up the aisle with his head tilted back, eyes unfocused as they stared up at the exposed wooden beams of the gable roof.

“Rafters,” Saddie chewed on the inside of his cheeks. Sarah called them rafters, “I wonder what the difference is?” It was a much safer thought than his earlier ones.

Ghosts. In all his twenty-six years Saddie had never thought ghosts were real. And then he’d called Jordan Cohen to find out what was up with his sister. Now, ghosts were everywhere – Sloan was a ghost, Jordan’s mom was a ghost, apparently the whole town was haunted by an eight-year old girl who’d died over a hundred and fifty years ago.

“Rafters.” Saddie repeated as he plopped into the front most pew on the right hand side. Maybe it’s because the beams were closer together? They couldn’t all be structural. Did everyone that died become a ghost? Or just the ones with unfinished business.

Briggs and Rafi popped into his head. They certainly had unfinished business when they died. Briggs had been engaged. He’d tucked a picture of himself – with an ungodly fluffy mustache – and his fiancée in the inside of his helmet the morning before. Was he hanging around? Keeping tabs on his fiancée, on his parents, his dog?

Saddie huffed, dropping his head down to look around for something else to catch his attention. There was a new stain glass window behind the pulpit now. The only wall that didn’t have functioning windows since what passed for a rectory was behind it.

It was a ghastly thing – giant cross in yellow hues surrounded by multi-colored roses. Mrs. MacDonald definitely had something to do with it. She was the only one with the poor taste and the pull to make that happen.

Rafi’s whole family had been killed. Was his little girl the town ghost now? Was Samara being blamed for wind storms and droughts? Could she be stirring one up now? Rosie was suppose to be messing with the weather around the meadow. And six hours earlier he hadn’t even believed she was a real person.

Now his mind was thinking of that damn tombstone. Deep in the meadow, a dark grey slab being overtaken by green. Surrounded by wildflowers. And his sister, lying unconscious, hair draped over her too-pale skin. He hadn’t noticed the name at first, not till he crouched down to slip his arms beneath Sarah’s shoulders and waist.

Rose Thompson. 1839 – 1847. It lined up perfectly with the stories he’d taken for town myths as a kid. With the history Sarah had mentioned in passing once. And the wind had picked up around the grave.

“You look like a man with questions,” the voice pulled Saddie’s eyes to the left. The priest was stepping out of the rectory. An Hispanic man with dark hair and a pointed chin. Eyes edged with the beginning of wrinkles – crow’s feet that meant he smiled a lot.

 The priest was walking towards Saddie with hands clasped in front of him. His mouth was set in a neutral line and his eyes were focused on Saddie’s. Saddie pressed his head into his hands, pushing his fingers through his too-short hair.

Saddie blew out a breath, “I’m a man who had his questions answered.” He chuckled darkly at just how much of an understatement that sounded to him. The priest paused in his progress just outside the pew.

“Not what you wanted to hear?” He took a seat as Saddie slid down to make room. He smiled – the tops of his lips tilting up just a bit. It was meant to be comforting.

The problem was that there was never going to be a good answer to why his sister currently weighed less than his laundry sack. He stuck his hand out towards the priest, “I’m Saddie.”

He watched the man’s eyes widen slightly, “Samuel.”

“Tell me, Father Samuel,” Saddie grinned at the man, “Do you believe in ghosts?”

Father Samuel blinked. The question surprised him. He thought about it though, he bit his lips and crossed his arms when thinking apparently. Saddie waited.

“What do you mean by ghosts?” Father Samuel finally asked. Saddie barked out a hollow laugh. “I believe in spirits,” his head turned to looked at Saddie, “I know for sure those we’ve lost are watching us from above. Perhaps even helping or providing comfort in moments of hardship.”

“I’ve never believe in ghosts. Or spirits,” Saddie leaned back, tilting his head up to look at the ceiling again. He traced the lines of the rafters with his eyes, “Not sure I do now either.”

“I see,” Father Samuel said, his tone giving away that he very much did not see. They sat there, quiet for a few minutes. And then Father Samuel turned his whole body to face Saddie, “You still haven’t said, why are you here?”

Saddie rolled his shoulders back and let his head loll to the side. The rafters still useless in their distraction. “My sister,” Saddie started slow, haltingly, “She’s… She’s having a hard time.” He licked his chapped lips, “Her best friend. She died. And Sarah. Sarah’s holding on to her.”

The priest stayed silent as Saddie gripped the pew beneath him, knuckles white with pressure. He looked at Father Samuel. He saw no judgement in his eyes, no expectations.

“Sloan’s ghost, her spirit or whatever, it’s latched on to her. She’s draining her life away. And Sarah’s letting her. Sarah’s letting herself die to keep Sloan here.” Saddie swiped at his face and looked up again.

Father Samuel breathed out, audibly, “You don’t feel like you can help her. Is that it?” Saddie didn’t answer. He felt the weight of Father Samuel’s hand come to rest on his shoulder, “You don’t believe in ghosts, do you?”

“No,” Saddie shook his head, “I don’t know. Jordan says he saw her. Sarah sure as hell thinks she’s real.” The priest’s eyes still held no judgement, “I found my sister by some old tombstone earlier today. A tombstone for a girl I didn’t think existed.”

“Rose Thompson,” Father Samuel supplied, smiling a bit fondly as he looked to the front of the church, “The adults here may not accept me yet, but the girls in my Catechism class are more than happy to fill me in on the town ghost.”

“You mean they told you that Rosie’s messing with the weather?” Saddie asked, remembering what Marigold has said, “That Sarah pissed her off or something before she left.”

Father Samuel shook his head, frowning, “No. They said Rosie was upset about people forgetting her. That she was sad. Dahlia Smith even asked me if we could pray for her at the end of the lesson.” He smiled at Saddie, “We did, of course, but I don’t believe it helped.”

“So, you do believe in ghosts?” Saddie narrowed his eyes, skeptical, though he couldn’t tell you what by that point, “You think there’s actually some little ghost stopping Mr. Montgomery’s bread from rising.” Father Samuel raised an eyebrow at him.

“Do you think your sister’s pain at losing her best friend is the only thing hurting her?”

Saddie leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. The hardwood floor of the church was scratched all to hell – scuff marks from shoes, indents from the cushions people knelt on, a few dents from keys that dropped from pockets.

“No.” Saddie confessed, eyes closed. “No, I don’t think it’s just the loss that hurt her.”

“We only have the power that God grants us, Mr. Michaels,” Father Samuel gripped Saddie’s shoulder as he stood up, “And these ghosts, as you call them, only have the power we give them.”

“So Rose Thompson can only deflate Mr. Montgomery’s bread if he believes she can?” Saddie looked up at the departing priest. He paused at the rectory door to smile, but he didn’t say anything else.

When the rectory door closed again, Saddie was left alone to analyze the rafters.

Jordan felt beyond awkward standing in the front of the mass of people that had come to pay Abe Acker their respect. In the hundred or so people, Jordon was the only one who could say he’d never even met the man.

So yeah, awkwardness was intensifying the longer he stood there listening to Father Samuel go on about the bonds of friendship transcending death and the blessings of Christ.

“As Abraham moves on to his Heavenly Father, we should–.”  Jordan focused instead on the people around him. The white knuckles of Saddie’s hands as he stared straight ahead, brown eyes bloodshot and rimmed red. Sarah’s hands were curled around Saddie’s right one, the white rosary wrapped loosely around her right wrist. She’d buried her face in Saddie’s shoulder and her whole body had been shaking since her father and his friends had carried the casket out of the church.

Beside the twins was their brother Drew, his priest collar absent and his eyes focused intently on Father Samuel – the brown of his eyes almost as dark as his pupil. He was straight-backed and his Adam’s apple was bobbing almost constantly.

The two other brothers – Haskell and Killian, who he’d met that morning – were flanking their siblings on either side. Jordan had never felt smaller than when the broad-shouldered Hask had stepped up beside him to encase him within the protective family bubble.

Jordan wondered how this family had managed to keep dry-eyed so far, because it was obvious they all wanted to cry. The only one actively doing so was the mother, Marlene, with Killian’s arm wrapped around her on the opposite side of the family block.

Past her, far off, was the meadow. His eyes lingered on it and the iron fence that separated it from the cemetery.

“Abe was pretty particular about his wishes for the funeral,” Gabe Michaels spoke with a deep voice, a bit rough with emotion. It caught Jordan’s ear, grounding his focus back on the service. Where there had been hushed words while Father Samuel spoke people fell silent as he stood there.

Gabe held himself well, broad-shouldered like Hask and with brown eyes that were reflecting back at him from all five of his children in the front row. It was obvious that Gabe was a man people listened to – a commanding presence. When he looked over those gathered in the cemetery he met their gazes, nodding to a few of them.

“Gabe and I’ve been as close as brothers since childhood. I followed after him on the playground, a few years younger and he never turned me away. I followed him into the military too. And he followed me back home, eventually.

I kept an eye on Adam, when the boy was young and Abe was away. And in turn, he looked after mine in those times when I couldn’t help them. When it came time to plan for this day, Abe trusted me with his final wishes. He’d known Father Samuel here only a few months, but he wanted the man’s words spoken here over his grave.

He wanted us all to have a place to say goodbye before we celebrate his life,” Gabe gestured in the direction Jordan knew the Michaels home to be in, “And so for any among you who want or need to speak, do so, and know that Abe is listening.”

Gabe welcomed dozens of people up to stand with him, to say their final words to a man that Jordan couldn’t help but feel a connection to as he listened to stories choked out by person after person in the silent cemetery. Abe Acker had left a legacy in this town.

A few of the people Jordan even recognized. Mrs. MacDonald started crying half-way through a story, “And he sat with me, comforting me. He’d just lost his son, same as I had my daughter, but he sat there – strong and solid – as I sobbed into his chest. Abe never blamed me for what happened, even when I did. I never got a chance to thank him for that, to tell him how grateful I was that my daughter found happiness with his son for that short time.”

Her husband had to help her back to her seat, her gasping cries still audible as the next person began to speak. Monty laughed during his a few more down the line, a smile as bright as a star atop a Christmas tree, “Abe and I never did tell Ol’ Sherriff Mick what we did.” Monty’s eyes sparkled as he looked to Gabe, “Though I did appreciate the look on his face when you got caught doing the same thing, Gabriel.”

Laughter rang through the gathering. More than three generations stood, telling stories and saying goodbye. Over a dozen spoke as the morning grew warm.

The final person to speak was a man with blond hair and bright green eyes circled with dark bruises. He was tall, scrawny, with a woolen suit jacket hanging from one arm. The most interesting thing about him was that the entire Michaels family tensed as one upon his appearance.

No one in the crowd was actually looking at him at all. They were all focused on Marlene. Her own green eyes were narrowed into a glare at the man.

Adrian Michaels.

It was Jordan’s light bulb above the head moment, his eyes darting between mother and son with widening eyes. Marlene didn’t move, so when Adrian stepped up to a quick hug with his father and then cleared his throat, the eyes all pinged back to him.

“Adam beat me at everything growing up,” Adrian didn’t look at anyone, his body and gaze were focused on the closed casket, “We were both still horrible at everything that required you to walk in a straight line without tripping, but he still beat me and that always counted as a win according to him.

He even won Lily’s heart before I was old enough to try – which was the best decision he ever made, but twelve year old me was heartbroken at the time. You’d just moved back to town, were helping dad with some kind of mechanical thing I still don’t understand. I’m fairly positive it had to do with a tractor.”

“It was a new water purifier for the house,” Gabe interrupted, an amused grin on his face as Adrian looked over at him, a curious arch to his eyebrows.

“Huh,” Adrian looked back at the casket, lips twitched up, “And that’s why I teach literature, not engineering.” He took a breath, “Something I blame you for actually.” He placed his hand on the casket, “You lent me a book that day, when I came to rant to dad about how he should have had me four years earlier so I could’ve asked Lily MacDonald out first.

You laughed at me, told me that wasn’t how love worked. I didn’t understand that at the time, of course. I didn’t understand it after reading Sir Thomas Malory either. But that book, that was the start of my life. And I understand now. So, thank you.” Adrian’s fingers slipped from the polished wood. He bowed his head slightly, and whispered something more.

Jordan could admit that he was more than curious to know what he said at the end. He as not alone in that either. Next to him Hask actually took a step closer, but he stopped at a look from his mother. The glare that she had been training on Adrian was now focused wholly on her third son. And he didn’t need telling twice.

When Adrian disappeared back into the sea of mourners, the last and youngest of the people to speak, Gabe nodded to Father Samuel. Abe was lowered into the ground.

As many people as were at the cemetery, there were more at the wake. Which really, was more of a block party. It encompassed both the Michaels house, the house next to them with the painted door, and the two houses across the street that shared a yard. The other half of the town had shown up with casseroles and cakes, fruit trays and fajitas.

Jordan had been to weddings with less food and few attendants. The dessert table, however, was well stocked and Jordon could attest, with great accuracy, to the deliciousness of Mr. Montgomery’s cinnamon rolls.

“Seriously,” Jordan moaned around a bite of his third cinnamon roll, “This is the most delicious thing I’ve ever put in my mouth.” Sarah was standing next to him, a smile that didn’t reach her eyes as she watched him. Sadddie had his face in his palm, face red with laughter.

“Dude,” Hask was shaking his head, face long and solemn, “You can’t say that.” Sarah sighed. Saddie nodded. Jordan tilted his head. Hask smirked, “You have not lived until you’ve eaten Doc Smithers’ Sugar Cookies.”

“All Caps!” Killian cut in with a dramatic hand gesture from next to his brother. Jordan blinked.

“Where would I find these cookies?” Jordan looked over at the dessert table. He had not seen any sugar cookies when he and Sarah had walked down the tables of food.

Drew walked up behind him then, as sugar cookie in his mouth.

“Dr. Smithers just got here, she had patients,” he swallowed and smiled at Jordan, another cookie already moving towards his lips, “She only brought four dozen.”

Jordan looked at Sarah, eyes wide and pointed, “I’ll be right back.” He took off for the dessert table again, zigzagging through the crowd with purpose. Sloan had not yet made a reappearance. Saddie was with her, he’d keep an eye out for anything odd. And it wasn’t like there was much Jordan could do if, when, she did.

Still. When he got to the dessert table he easily spotted the sugar cookies, a new addition at the end of the table in a wicker basket with a black cloth. Jordan made a beeline for it. There were only a dozen left when he got there so he swiftly took two in each hand.

And that was when it happened. Five seconds he was away from Sarah’s side and he had been surrounded. Worst of all, after taking a bite of the, admittedly amazing, cookie, he knew for sure that it wasn’t worth it.

“Jordan, right?” A woman of small stature and enormous presence cornered him first. She had grey hair and more smile lines than years to her name, but her smile had an edge to it as she looked over him. She vaguely reminded him of Mrs. MacDonald.

“Yes,” Jordan realized as he said the word that he shouldn’t have. The woman’s eyes lit up.

As if signaled by his naiveté two more women popped up behind her – one a middle-age brunette with hair tied tightly up in a bun and the other a young woman with freckles and ombre hair flowing down to her waist.

Jordan recognized them now. The three of them had been clustered near a wall together when he’d gone into the post office with Mrs. MacDonald. He had made a grave mistake.

The original woman smiled, “Are you from Texas? Do you plan on moving back? Does Sarah?” Jordan answered her shotgun questions as they came – yes, no, I don’t know. His short answers didn’t dissuade them in the least though because all three women continued to pepper him with questions, even after he stopped answering them.

“Is she doing ok? She’s awfully skinny.” “Lost at least fifty pounds since I last saw her.” “And the way she’s walking?” “Jane Lewis said she probably hasn’t kept up with her physical therapy?” “That’s obvious.” “Do you think that’s the reason for all the weirdness lately?”

“Weirdness?” Jordan cut in, eyebrow raised. Monty had mentioned the weather when he’d helped Jordan find Nolana a few days back.

The three women smiled at him sweetly, upturned lips and half-lidded eyes of pity. Jordan swore Southern Bells practiced that stuff in the mirror. One of them even had a hand resting over her heart.

Freckles was the one that answered, “Rose Meadow has had a string of bad luck since the summer – a few car accidents, bread not rising, a bad flu season. Stuff like that.”

“Only you would include issues with rising bread in the same sentence as the spike in our death rate, Marianne,” Bunhead grinned at the younger woman, raising her head to look down her nose at her. Jordan had never seen anyone actually do that.

 “We don’t have a death rate,” the first woman, which Jordan was calling Smiler in his head, had pursed her lips. Personally affronted by such a thing he assumed.

Bunhead scoffed, “Abe might have something to say about that.”

“The Trudeaus and Jenny Winter both died in Houston,” Freckles pointed out to Bunhead with her face puckered in annoyance. Jordan watched the ensuing argument like a three-sided ping-pong match.

Well, four. He kept one eye on Sarah, over Smiler’s shoulder.

“Because they were medevaced there,” Bunhead’s tone shifted a few octaves lower, “And Jenny Winter’s was only 42. Who has a heart attack at 42?” Sarah had wrapped her left arm around her torso, hand clasping her right elbow tightly.

Smiler’s smile tightened, her upper lip curling up, “Jenny was not in the best of shape, dear. And she could be forgetful, especially about her insulin.” Freckles nodded sagely beside her.

The Michaels brothers were arguing. Drew and Saddie specifically. Jordan could see their mouths turning up in tight smiles and harsh words. Not unlike the women in front of him. Though he imagined, based on the amused expressions of Hask and Killian, that they were being considerably more blunt.

Sarah was edging away from them, her hand stroking lower over the scar on her right forearm. The scar was long, widening in the center, with a more pinkish pallor than the surrounding skin. Sarah’s fingers traced the edge as she backed herself against a low garden wall.

“Are you seriously trying to say the Trudeaus died because of the rain?” Freckles voice went high-pitched with that sentence. Saddie pushed himself into Drew’s personal space, eyes narrowed to slits. Instantly, the identical grins on the faces of Hask and Killian dropped.

Jordan pushed past the arguing women, ignoring the ‘excuse me!’ and ‘I never!’ that the move earned him. Sarah was fingering the rosary at her wrist as she collapsed down onto the wall. Knees up around her chest.

Her fingers moved from bead to bead, crossing where she’d tied the broken strand together. Her lips moved in soft, small movements. No words escaping out loud. Jordan could practically see the little bit of life left in her beginning to fade. There were lines of tears rolling down her face.

“Sarah?” Jordan knelt in front of her, grasping her shoulders firmly. Her shoulders were hunched in and her head dropped lower into her lap. Sarah was like a dying star collapsing in on herself right in front of him.

She looked up, her eyes big and wide, dominating her sunken face. Sarah was shaking her head at him, “It’s not like before.” She gasped, sobbing softly, “She’s just talking. I can’t even see her.”

Jordan bit his bottom lip as she continued to cry. He pulled her into his body. She felt tiny, and cold. She clung to the rosary. He could feel her hand against his abdomen, her fingers still moving over the beads. Jordan had no idea what he was meant to do.

-.-.-

The next chapter is up on my patreon and will be public March 17th. You can also support me over on ko-fi.