#like at my current job; i was the only person who didn’t get any info about orientation

[fingertipsmp3]

Why does nothing ever go normally for me. Why is nothing ever straightforward. Just once, when someone tells me they’re going to email me something important, can they actually ✨do it✨

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if I left a bad review on a book I haven’t purchased?

(📚📖 to find later)

I’m an audiobook narrator professionally. I do most of my work via independent contracting with a production company. NOTE: they are NOT a publishing house. They do not provide editors/betas/etc for the text, they focus on turning (usually self published) books into audiobooks and marketing those audiobooks.

Most of the books I record with them are great, and I have a lot of fun reading good books! But…some of the books I’ve read for them have been. REALLY. REALLY. bad. Like I personally would have stopped reading within the first few pages bad if it wasn’t literally my job to read the words out loud.

I’m currently reading a book for them that makes me want to tear my hair out. The writing is boring, badly paced, and repetitive. None of the characters are likeable, and the relationships are shallow, the combat is boring, there are no stakes, etc etc. To give you an idea, the main character is the type of kid who on the playground would insist he had a mega super invincibility shield so you couldn’t touch him, but he also had a mega super invincibility shield breaking sword if you decided you wanted a shield too. And the narrative REWARDS HIM for acting that way.

I’ve never left a review on any of the books I’ve narrated before, but this one…i am seriously considering writing a review to try and warn people away from this book.

A few things to consider, though:

1: i am not being paid royalty share from the book, i get a flat rate based on the number of hours in the final audiobook. But as far as I know, the author only starts making money from producing this audiobook once the production company makes back the money they paid me for making it.

2: i would review anonymously/under a fake name and only on the book product page, not the product page for the audiobook version.

3: if an audiobook does not sell, then it is most likely I will not be obligated to continue recording the rest of the series (and it IS a series. At least three books are out as of now. I am currently slated to record them all, provided the audiobook sells decently)

4: the book currently has ~250 reviews already, and a 4.7/5 rating (how???? get some fucking standards), so it’s not like I’m leaving a 1 star review on something that only has 6 reviews.

I don’t think that one bad review would tank the whole series, but I do feel like leaving bad reviews on a product I didn’t even buy might be a dick move, especially if the author’s pay for this book relies on it selling well. But on the other hand, his book sucks and people should know that.

I wouldn’t be leaving a “0 stars: this sucks” review, I’d want to make it comprehensive and detailed. But I’d also feel bad about that because I’m sure the author reads his reviews, and even though his book sucks shit, i don’t want to like…make someone lose their passion to write? But ALSO if you’re making people pay $16 for the book and/or $40 for the audiobook, maybe the book should be fucking good? Idk.

So, tumblr, WIBTA?

[supermarvelgirl15]

The Stripper's Bodyguard

Summary: Wade tricks you into dressing as a stripper to get information for a merc job. Logan isn't too thrilled about it.

Pairing: Logan Howlett × f!reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: Slight Deadpool and Wolverine spoilers, Wade being Wade, alcohol tw, light violence, perverts, and reader has self-doubts for a moment

A/N: I too have become a victim of the Logan Renaissance ™. This is my first time writing for Logan and Wade, so I apologize for any inaccuracies. I love my little angry babygirl <3

Main Masterlist

××××××

You didn’t want to be here. To be fair, you’re sure the only one that wanted to be here was Wade, but his vote didn’t count. Not to you anyway, or Logan for that matter. The place was crowded, loud, and the floor was sticky, you dare not to think with what. 

   The hell, although heaven to some apparently, you were currently in was a strip club. Wade had persuaded, no, dragged you to join him. It was obvious that he was here for something other than the gorgeous, half-naked women because he was dressed head to toe in his suit, despite hiding his weapons from view and some petite bag he was carrying. Sure, he could just be covering his face for—ahem—other reasons, but you knew how Wade played these games. Besides, the only stripper he went to anymore was Vanessa, and this wasn’t her place. 

   Before his little mid-life crisis, you were Wade’s “guy in the chair.” You were the one that would find Wade his merc jobs, always finding the biggest asshole with the biggest number on their head. There were a fair share of targets that were done for free, but those were usually the ones that deserved a fate worse than Wade’s sword. 

   During his time as a car salesman, however, you just became an information distributor, selling knowledge to whoever was willing to buy. You always did your research on the buyer of course, never letting info get into the wrong hands. The job wasn’t fun without Deadpool though. Especially when the rent usually fell onto just you and Al, because who in their right mind would buy a vehicle from a raisin with what looked like a baby Ewok stapled on his head. 

   Then one day, Wade pranced back into the apartment accompanied with a dog dressed in a matching Deadpool suit and a man that seemed vaguely familiar. Apparently, the two of them had just saved your universe, and the scruffy man, Logan, was from another Earth in a separate timeline. You were just happy that Wade had found himself again. 

   Slowly, but surely, you grew accustomed to your new roommate. Logan mostly kept to himself, but he was always kind and polite towards you. The ideal roommate really, unlike a certain mouth. He was easy on the eyes too, so bonus. 

   It was nice to have someone else around while Wade started seeing Vanessa again. You loved Al to death, but when she didn’t have her “white girl interrupted” time, not even the Wolverine dared to get in her way. You’d like to think Logan liked the company as well. 

   Logan didn’t share any of his past with you, but from what you gathered from Wade, you didn’t blame him. You just hoped that this Earth treated him better than the last. Even though you didn’t know too much about him, he seemed like he had earned it. 

   He honestly felt like a personal bodyguard at times, which was great for the creepy guys at the grocery store. One instance when it was your turn to go food shopping, Logan decided to tag along—it was either going with you or risk getting roped into helping Wade give Mary Puppins a bath.  

   While at the store, a guy had come up behind you, making a comment about your ass. Before you could even get a word out, Logan stepped in between you and the guy, looking down at him with an expression that usually meant that he was about to stab Wade with his claws. A “beat it, bub” was all it took for the creep to hightail it out of there. The butterflies that came to life in your stomach after that hadn’t flown away since. 

   You eventually got back the title of Wade’s—and now sometimes Logan’s—guy in the chair, and you were ecstatic to go back to your roots. Between the three of you, rent was no longer a problem, which was relief to Al’s ears. You all made a pretty good team, even with Dogpool. 

   It was earlier that day when Wade came to you, asking if you were free. At the time you had said yes, but now you wished you had lied. He just clapped and ordered you to get ready, that he was going to take you out for a girl’s night—ha! You should’ve known better than that. 

   Logan had overheard you crazily caving into Wade’s pleas to go out with him. He didn’t need heightened senses to know that Wade had an ulterior motive to getting you to go out. That’s why he invited himself to come along. Someone had to make sure Wade wasn’t screwing you over. 

   Now, the three of you were hanging out on the outskirts of the club, the music blaring through the speakers around you. You weren’t even one of the working girls, yet you could still feel multiple pairs of eyes on you. It must’ve been a coincidence that Logan moved himself closer to you then.  

   “Are you going to tell us why you dragged us here?” You questioned Wade over the music. You had to repeat yourself a second time for him to hear you. 

   Wade turned to you, holding up two fingers. “Two things. One: I dragged you here. Real Steel came on his own, which isn’t a new thing for him. Don’t worry, pal, we’ve all been there.” He attempted to give Logan a reassuring pat on the back, but Logan’s warning glare made him rethink it rather quickly. 

   “Two: Remember Mister Bad Guy we’ve been looking into? He’s here getting his rocks off with some friends of his, like some evil orgey thing.” Wade made a gesture with his hands, one making you scrunch your nose up in disgust. You’d think you’d be used to it by now. 

   The “Mister Bad Guy” Wade was referring to was a man named Ramone Grimm—his name even sounded evil. He was one of the homicidal leaders of a trafficking ring that both you and Wade had been keeping tabs on. You’ve been looking tirelessly for where their operations were being held, but kept running into a dead end. How Wade even found out he was here was beyond you. 

   Your eyes widened in surprise. “What? How? More importantly, what does that have to do with me being here?” You never went out into the field, that was strictly Wade’s area of expertise. He knew that too, so now you definitely knew something was up. 

   “Everything, sweetums!” Wade excitedly reached into the bag he had been carrying, pulling out a two-piece set that looked similar to lingerie. “I hope you don’t mind that I know your size. Blind Al’s always getting our bras mixed up in the laundry.” He held up the outfit up against himself to display the look for you. 

   Bile rose up at the back of your throat. “What, what do I need that for?” Your eyes had to be bulging outside of your head. It really didn’t help that Logan was here witnessing all of this. You were going to find a way to kill Wade. 

   Wade just dipped his head, looking at you like he was annoyed that he had to spell it out. “For your promotion to exotic dancer, silly.” He threw the set back into the bag before rubbing his hands together. “Now, what should your name be? Candy’s too cliché. Buttercup? Nah, too Robin Wright-y. How about—” 

   “What?” 

   Both you and Logan spat out the word, though you’re sure his held more venom in it. Logan’s fist clenched at his sides, along with his jaw. He looked more pissed off at Wade than you were, if that was possible. 

   Holding his hands up in surrender, Wade took a step back. “Whoa there, Mickey and Mallory. No need to go all Natural Born Killers on me. It’s just a cover so you could get close enough to Grimm and his buddies. Believe me, if I could get away with wearing this,” he held up the bag that now hung on his finger, “I’d already be out there struttin’ my stuff, baby girl.” 

   Logan stepped in between the two of you. “She’s not wearing that,” he seethed through his teeth. This had to be Wade’s most idiotic plan yet, and Logan wasn’t about to let you be a part of it. 

   Wagging his finger, Wade clicked his tongue. “That’s not very woke of you. I know you were alive before women were even allowed to wear pants, but come on, James, get with the program.” Wade’s life flashed before your eyes when Logan roughly grabbed him by the collar. 

   Before he could take it any further, you snatched the bag out of Wade’s hands. “I’ll do it,” you muttered, rubbing the material in the bag between your fingers. At least it was thick. 

   “You don’t need to do this,” Logan tried to reason with you as he let go of Wade.  

   You just shook your head. “It’s fine, Logan. Besides, you and Wade will be here to watch my six, right?” You let out a dry chuckle at an attempt to make him believe you were actually fine with it, but you knew he could see through your facade. Still, he reluctantly nodded in agreement. 

   The bathroom mirror did nothing to hide your discomfort, both from the lack of clothing in a place full of men with bad intentions and that Wade did in fact get the right size. It was going to be worth it though. You were doing this to save lives. It was just like wearing a bathing suit, right? Right. 

   After several minutes of psyching yourself up, you emerged from the bathroom, the immediate stares burning holes into your skin. There was nothing like being the new blood at a strip joint. You already regretted going along with this. 

   “Well, look. At. You! If I knew you were going to look this sexy, I would’ve started buying you lingerie a loooong time ago.” Wade used his hands as a pretend camera. “Might have to save this mental image for later. I know Wolvie here definitely is, you filthy animal.” 

   The daggers you were using to stab Wade repeatedly in your mind wasn’t enough. 

   You had to make yourself look at Logan, just to see his eyes raking over you, soaking you in. The expression on his face was unreadable. Maybe the outfit wasn’t so bad after all.  

   “What do I need to do now?” You asked as you scanned the crowd, locking eyes with a few different men instantly. Ew. The other women that walked around had a confidence that made your insecurities start to claw their way up to the surface. How could Vanessa do this for a living? 

   Wade made a gesture for a group huddle, but just ended up putting one arm awkwardly around Logan and a hand respectfully on your shoulder. You were surprised that Logan even let him go that far, but you just found that his eyes were still on you. Hopefully he’d think your elevated heartbeat was because of your nerves. 

   “Here’s the gameplan, team. You’re gonna work your magic and make your way to the back where the VIP tables are while we play the stripper’s bodyguard. Once you hear Grimm’s dirty little secrets, we ride off into the sunset. Capiche?” Wade looks at you expectantly. You swallow past the lump in your throat, forcing yourself to nod. “Great! Okay, on three! One, two, three! Go Dragons!”  

   With that, Wade took off skipping across the club, leaving you with your self-doubts. Why did you let him drag you here? Why did you agree to do this? This is why you stay at home, where it’s safe and away from the real danger of this job. You’re not cut out for this. There’re too many people. Are you freaking out now? Oh, no, you’re freaking out— 

   “Hey. Look at me.” 

   Logan gently grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him. His touch stopped your inner turmoil, your focus zoning in on him. His eyes glanced over your face. “You look fine,” he assured you. At least you wouldn’t hyperventilate now because you’re pretty sure you forgot how to breathe. 

   “Anyone touches you, says anything to you, so much as looks at you the wrong way—you come get me, and I’ll set ’em straight. Understand?” Logan’s voice is low as he speaks to you, the sound comforting to your ears against the obnoxious music. You slowly nod, not trusting your voice enough to respond verbally.  

   He keeps eye contact with you, his thumb absentmindedly stroking your chin, until he’s sure you’ll be okay. It isn’t until then that he finally let’s go of you, reluctantly pushing himself through the club in the opposite direction that Wade went. You didn’t take your eyes off his back until he disappeared into the sea of people. 

   You take a deep breath, coming back to your senses. You could do this. You looked hot, you were confident, and Logan or Wade wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you. Everything would be fine. 

   Your shoes had trouble with clinging to the questionable floor as you made your way towards the back, ignoring the cat calls from other patrons. You picked up a discarded tray with drinks from a table to make it look like you had a reason for being in VIP. It was surprisingly easy to get in, with you just telling the bouncer that you were the new blood. The way his eyes raked over your body was nothing like the way Logan had looked at you. This one left you nauseated instead of elated.  

   The bouncer just let you in with a mumbled “good luck” and closed the rope behind you. Now, you just had to find Grimm’s table. His face was practically burned onto the back of your eyelids from all the times you’ve been researching him and his group. How did Wade find him here when you didn’t? You probably didn’t want to know. 

   Once you slipped pass the VIP rope, Logan lost sight of you, which made his heartbeat pick up some. It was hard to focus on just your scent when there were so many others mixing together within this place. He was going to stab Wade in the dick for this. You shouldn’t be doing this. He shouldn’t have let you do this.  

   One way or the other, this was going to end with him mauling somebody. Everyone in this place should be praying to God that someone doesn’t lay a single finger on you. He needed a drink. 

   Grimm’s table were a bunch of disgusting bastards. They were all drunk and held no respect for the girls that were working their table. Then again, what else would you expect from assholes that ran a trafficking ring. 

   It didn’t take long for one of them to mention something about transporting “products” to a warehouse a couple states over. You tried your hardest to keep your expression neutral as you mentally jotted the location down while also ignoring the unsavory comments from the other men. This whole mess was actually going to be worth it. 

   You were luckily able to slip back out just as easily as you had slipped in, acknowledging the bouncer with a small smile. All you had to do now was find Wade and Logan, get out of here, and put on some more clothes. You were actually amazed at how smoothly this had worked out. 

   “Where you off to, darlin’?” 

   Maybe you spoke too soon. 

   Everything in you went into overdrive as you slowly turned to face the guy that had spoken to you, seeing that he was barely even able to stand on his own. He took a long sip from his beer, his eyes glued to everything on you but your face. 

   “Sorry, my shift just ended.” You offered him an uncomfortable smile before turning away from him.

   The guy immediately grabbed your arm, pulling you back towards him. “But we just got started,” he slurred, his breath alone enough to intoxicate you. His grip didn’t waver, even when you tried to pull away. Frantically, your eyes scanned the crowd, hoping to find either Logan or Wade, but neither of them were in sight. Where were they? 

   “Let me go.” You said the words with as much malice that you could muster, but they might as well had fallen on deaf ears. If anything, they just seemed to entice him more. 

   “Oh, ’m like it when ya talk back.” His face was way too close to yours now. The smell of his breath—and his words—were going to make you puke right on him. Good. 

   You barely even registered it when the guy was suddenly slung backwards off of you into a table, the commotion capturing the attention of the nearby clubgoers and workers. The cause of the pervert’s sudden take of flight was none other than Logan, who now stood in front of you, his chest heaving and eyes filled with a rage that not even you had seen before. 

   “What the hell?!” Perve guy yelled as he clamored to stand back up, someone beside him eventually helping him. “What do you think you’re doing?!” 

   Logan’s hands twitched at his sides. “She said let her go.” You were worried his teeth were about to break with how hard he clenched them together. 

   Perve guy scoffed. “’M money means I can touch her if I want, jackass.” He attempted to push past Logan to get to you, but he didn’t get too far before Logan pushed him backwards until his back hit the wall with a loud thud. Logan’s claws unsheathed against the man’s neck, earning gasps and screams from the crowd that now surrounded them. 

   “You wanna try that again, bub?” Logan spat, his claws only just grazing the perve’s bobbing Adam's apple. The guy shook his head, his eyes wide. He seemed to sober up almost immediately. 

   When Logan didn’t make a move to let him go, you slowly approached him, calling his name. “Let’s get out of here.” You placed your hand on his arm gently, moving your head so he would look you in the eye.  

   Slowly, Logan retracted his claws and let him go. He gestured with his head for the guy to beat it, which he did not hesitate to do. Logan turned to you then, delicately grabbing your arm where the guy had had a hold of you. “Did he hurt you?” He still held a bit of anger in his eyes, prepared to gut the guy if you said yes. 

   You shook your head. “I’m fine. Can we just get out of here?” If anything, you’d have a bruise in the morning. You’d just try to hide it from Logan if so. The two of you had already created a big enough commotion as it was.  

   Logan stared at you a moment longer, making sure that you were actually okay. He shrugged off his jacket, placing it over your shoulders before directing you towards the door. Not a single person even dared to look in your direction while he was with you. 

   Wade had met you at the door, a few bills tucked into his belt. “I heard there was almost a murder on the dancefloor, and not the kind that gives you a salt burn either.” He paused when he noticed you in Logan’s jacket, and that Logan had a protective arm wrapped around your shoulder. “O. M. G. Did y’all have a 1992’s The Bodyguard moment? You totally did, didn’t you? You have to tell me every detail. Now, who was Whitney and who was Costner?”  

   Both you and Logan shared a look with each other before glaring at Wade. 

   “Shut it, Wade.” 

××××××

[unfortunatelysleepy]

Hello how are you?

I would like to know in your Au, how the doorman ended up working for DDD

(1) Hello to you too!! I’m very tired rn but all right 👍🏼 thx for asking!!

(2) I haven’t fully finished my lore about that but I’ll explain the parts that i have!! (This is gonna be a long one 😬)

So June (the name of the Doorman as they joined the D.D.D (officially) in June!) was abandoned by their siblings and parent when they were caught by the D.R.D (Doppelganger Research Department, a headcanon department lol) as they were the weakest/sickest among them. (another headcanon that doppelgänger’s tend to abandon the weakest family member if they are in danger or not enough food etc etc,) so the D.R.D only managed to catch June.

June, thinking the D.R.D was gonna kill them, literally panicking, offered them a truce (kind of? Idk how to word it). The offer was they would give any information they know about doppelgangers and that they would hunt for them (they were still kinda pissed off cuz they just got abandoned by their family and honestly shitty life(the weakest tends to get neglected) ) In exchange for their life and food (regular meat ofc) etc.

The D.R.D, who are f*cking surprised by the offer, are very suspicious but listens anyways (because this is a first time for them)

They talk some sh*t out, D.R.D informs the D.D.D, talk some sh*t with them to, and then finally both departments decides to (surprisingly) agree but with very strict conditions and guidelines and supervised and if that if they break any rules or anything then it’s straight to 💀 basically. etc etc.

Anyways after a few months of just hunting other doppelgangers (maybe a bit too aggressively/personally, they were still pissed)and building trust. They finally became the Doorman!! Yipee!!

June was honestly surprised when they were offered the job cuz they just expected to hunt doppelgangers for them, and give them info or something but around that time the doormen kept messing up cause alot of them were quitting cuz it was mentally draining etc. (basically alot of problems)

So the D.D.D kinda had no choice but to hire them ig. Also Cuz they were prob the best at finding other doppelgangers, etc. but it was only temporary until they could fine some better solution. (They were still supervised at the first few weeks. Another doorman ((with a secret button device to call for the D.D.D if June were to do anything sus, they were serious with the conditions/rules)) was with them to teach them the basics as this was kinda a last minute hire lol)

After a few weeks of doing their job and getting to know the neighbors (and getting a bit attached) they realized they kinda liked the job so they talked to the D.D.D about it and they said “aight 👍🏼” so June officially became the doorman!! Yipee!! (This is the time where they get their name. ((They were called “the dopple” by the D.D.D, “Doorman” by the neighbors)) As one of the neighbors asked for their name during their job and said “uhh…” looks at a calendar “it’s june.” “…i’m not sure if you are saying your name or you are just saying the current month.”))

I did while i am tired so there might be spelling mistakes or things that didn’t make sense so apologies in advance!! If you have any more questions please ask!! (I didn’t go everything into detail as this is already too long)

Thx for the ask💕/gen

[sparkles-oflight]

Writing Original Characters – a rant that might be useful

Hello, everyone. This is a post different than usual. If you don’t know me, first of all, “hi” and second, I should probably talk about my experience in story writing beforehand.

I’m currently a 19-year-old student in communications (I’m not a native English speaker as you might be able to tell), but I also used to be a multimedia student in high school. I started writing and adapting scripts when I was 12 as a fun hobby with my friends, but I also found interest in writing at a young age – though you can say that passion of mine always stayed “saved” in a drawer. I truly started writing scripts for school at 15/16 and I still do, as well as short fictional stories for my personal entertainment. This next university semester, I’m also planning on taking scriptwriting classes. At some point in my life, I also wanted to be a critic of cinematography in videoclips, series, games etc. but that was just another idea I set aside. Even though I keep my ideas to myself, I’m currently writing a fanfic related to a band (it’s a Slovenian band called Joker Out, I truly recommend their music).

Just like in “actual writing” – whatever that might mean to you – when you bring life to original characters, you want your audience to feel something towards them. I’ve recently finished writing chapter 7 of my fanfiction and while I adored writing these past two chapters, they kind of “destroyed” my perception of my favorite chapter until then (Chapter 4). I’ll not go into heavy detail for the sake of avoiding spoilers for the two people who are reading it (I’m not joking, I’m this passioned about something that a maximum of 2 people are reading), but I got myself rooting for the “we didn’t work out” couple instead of the main ones.

I couldn’t wrap my head around it, after all, my original character had a personality, a background, and character flaws that are crucial to any character in any media format (and trust me, I’ve been in a rabbit hole of character and movie writing analysis videos lately) - it’s the way your audience gets to connect with your character.

However, I made a huge mistake. You see, even though I try to write in the POVs of the characters, I decided to break the “archetype” of “Oh, cutsie new character is in love with x and y person and they have to choose who they like. Here ya go: a list of all things they have done in their life”. In my story, I decided that the character already pre-existed and had already interactions with the characters pre-story. And it’s not until chapter 4 where we first get their POV which also doesn’t explain much about the character… So, by the time we get to chapter 6 – which, again, I’ll not dive into– we still know nothing about this character and. We know their name, their age, their love for their country and their job, and that they are a little bit emotional and apologetic.

As I wrote more, I’ve come to realize that the only chance I’ll get “to fix” my character for it to still be likable is by getting more info out of them or else the story will just get boring and annoying. I thought I hated the character because I made the mistake of making it so similar to me. In reality, the character just lacks information. It’s good to hold back some information from the reader, but not too much. I know all their traumas, I know all my character went through and I know why their flaws make them great, but the reader doesn’t.

Honestly, the conclusion to this personal rant of mine is: Don’t be afraid to give information to your audience. People need something to relate to and especially in this day and age where the spam of our concentration was somehow reduced to less than a fucking goldfish. More than just telling compelling or realistic stories, have characters whose stories people want to dive into and learn more about, and share them in an interesting way.

If you’ve made it so far down here, hi again. Thank you for reading this. And feel free to share your thoughts and comments and other writing tips you might consider important. I want this space to feel safe for young writers and open for debate any time ;) I might be a little chaotic most days, but hey, deep down I have some nice thoughts as well… And don’t be like me: a little bitch who never follows their dreams ^^’ cya soon.

[pyolyuja]

hi again everybody !!  it’s admin ocha here with my 2nd child who is the epitome of tranquil surfer boy aesthetic~  i am wayyyy less prepared with him, so pretty much all his info barring his profile/stats page is under the cut , but i wanted to go ahead and post something for him 🧡 beyond the read more, you’ll find his bullet point origin story & some wanted connections so please do hit the heart if you would like to plot with yunseong !

grew up in the yangyang city area of gangwon district. his parents owned a bed & breakfast at jukdo beach, so the family spent quite a lot of time there.

the family dynamic was really tight-knit and was very reliant on humor to make it through difficult times, something that would have a lifelong effect on yunseong.

while their parents worked, yunseong and his older sister (wc!!) would kill time for hours on the beach. he loved being there, smelling the sea salt in the air, hearing the battling chirps of seagulls and the crashing of waves.

this was where he took his first surfing lesson. he saw them being given on the beach and begged his mother for the 26,000 won it cost to enter the class. he fell in love on the first wave, even though he fell into it within milliseconds. by the end of that day, he had enough muscle memory in his calves to withstand a good five or so seconds on the board.

the lessons became semi-regular and a few months later, he could surf bigger waves and his balance had been trained along quite nicely. he could officially consider it a hobby, and didn’t really need the input of an instructor anymore.

he used his newfound balance to also learn skateboarding, something that translated into a very specific friend group in school.

yunseong was fairly athletic, playing a few different sports in school, but never having any real aspirations to go pro at anything. still, the world of sports fascinated him, and he could definitely see himself doing something behind the scenes.

after graduating from high school, he admittedly slacked off quite a bit. all he really wanted to do that summer was hang out on the beach he grew up on and surf as much as he could. he didn’t really wanna accept that his childhood was over, and it was time to start taking responsibility for himself.

after a year of goofing off, his father scolded him about not taking his future seriously and pushed him to start thinking about what he wanted to do with his life.

he wound up getting accepted to meikyung university in daegu, and is currently pursuing his degree in sports marketing.

after moving to daegu, he got a job at xpixel in the mall to pay his bills and rent (he was insistent on moving out of the dorm and living off campus bc he just couldn’t take it anymore) and is about a year out from graduating.

he’s once again become unsure about his future, because he enjoys working at sunset galleria so much. he kinda just wants to stay at the hotel pool or hang out at the arcade with his friends for the rest of time.

personality

some beachy surfer vibes; mostly he’s just an extremely calm, laidback individual. he’ll really only fight or argue if it means keeping the peace in the end, if that makes sense.

complete mama’s boy. his mom is his favorite person on the whole earth, whereas he wasn’t as close to his more stern father.

still uses humor to lighten the mood or deflect his true feelings. can be a little self-effacing sometimes in a humoristic way. doesn’t like to make other people the butt of his jokes unless he knows them and they have that type of comfort level.

he is the type to cover your shift to help out, but also, don’t expect him to do a good job rip

is slightly competitive due to his background in sports, but again, it’s more in a joke-y way

has a hard time taking anything seriously, and it can be to an annoying degree. it may sometimes feel irreverent, but just when you think he’s incapable of being genuine, he tells you something very real and you’re taken aback by it.

this communicates into how he loves quite a bit. you may sometimes feel like he doesn’t say the right words enough, but he always comes through in the end. he is also pretty big on romantic gestures, rather than using words to convey his feelings. catch him making u a mixtape of songs that remind him of you and planning you a poolside picnic 🧡

wanted connections

gamer friends

friends he hits up the pool with a lot

mutual crush / flirtationship

frenemies

fwbs

roommates

friends from college / study buddies

people who will actually eat his strange cooking

literally anything give me all the things

[theimperialnuisance]

FFXIV Write 2023 || FFXIV Write info\\Prompt list\\Character info \\Master post ||

Prompt 19: Weal

a raised mark on the skin caused by being hit or injured

Character(s): Atticus Wolfram  Cw: very mild injury and blood descriptions but really only mentions of it, no major detail Word count: 695 Notes: all of my oc’s fit this one so in the true nature of an indecisive person, I did a random name generator! It landed on Atticus so have a soft and angsty story of some pre-arr hcs :3 Sorry if the ‘event’ is vague here but I plan to elaborate it further later on cause it is canon to his backstory but I didn’t have the time or brain space to type it all out XD 

“You’re reckless, you know that?” 

Atticus wanted to laugh in response but that soon cut off with a hiss through his teeth as a cold cloth was gently pressed to his cheek. As much as the coolness should have brought relief to to fresh cut on his skin, it ended up stinging much more. 

“Keep hold of that to stop the bleeding and I’ll tend to your other wounds.” 

Atticus obeyed, knowing better to not argue with the woman who had been looking after him ever since he arrived to Ul’dah. She was much older than him, a short and stout hyur woman named Ryelle who ran a local herb and remedy shop. “I’m no healer, but I can make a damn good potion,” she had told him when he first stumbled into her shop nearly three years ago. Ever since then, it became almost second nature to go to her when he needed a potion or two to numb the aches and pains from his job since he had no affinity to healing magic either. And over the years, she began to look out for him more than just selling a remedy or two, becoming one of the few people who knew about his past and his current occupation, the real one and the under the table one.

“What did you do this time?” Ryelle asked in quiet exasperation as she gingerly lifted his arms one at a time to examine the scratches and weals that decorated them, some already bruising underneath the dried blood. “Gunbreaker business, or Reaper business?” 

Atticus didn’t respond, the wound on his cheek still made it difficult to talk. Even so, he didn’t think he could talk about it just yet, the mere thought of having to recount the previous event to someone made his throat tight and his eyes sting. Though he tried to keep his expression stoic, Ryelle was too observant and caught on. 

“You don’t have to hide it Atticus,” she said softly as she took over the cloth again still placed against his cheek. “but you can tell me when you’re ready.” she pulled the cloth away, discarding it now that it was red with blood and gently brushed a thumb near the raised skin, still reddened and raw but at least the bleeding had stopped. “This will probably scar,” Ryelle tutted and Atticus winced a little at the contact. “I’ll at least get you a potion to help aid the pain and healing process but without any sort of healing magic, you’ll have this as a reminder every time you look in the mirror.”

Atticus swallowed the lump in his throat, finally finding his voice. “I want the reminder.” 

What he had to do today would be forever burned into his memory and the physical reminder of his mistake would be enough to not let things get out of hand again like they did today. That was his thought process, at least. One that probably made no sense to the woman in front of him but it was enough for him and that was all that mattered. 

Ryelle let out a sigh as she gave the Elezen a fresh cold cloth to press to his cheek again before standing up. “Stay put with that, I’ll grab the potions for you and then we'll stitch and bandage you up.” 

Another silent nod as she began to retreat to the front of the store. “Oh and Atticus?” A quiet hum in response. “After I’m through, I’m closing up early and making you a nice dinner and you’ll be staying here for a few days to rest, got it?” 

Atticus looked up at her, a small grateful smile spreading across his face. “Thanks Ryelle,” he really didn’t know how or when this whole mother/son relationship between them became so strong but he didn’t want to question it. It was something he had craved since he fled his homeland and he wanted to hold tightly to it as long as he could. 

Ryelle smiled warmly in return. “Think none of it, love.” She then disappeared to the storefront to gather her supplies to finish patching him up. 

[bloodyshadow1]

I feel like people are too hard on Peg, yeah she sided with Miles and the Disruptors at the end initial climax of the movie, but I can’t blame her.

First of all, we know that her entire working life has been taking care of Birdie, other than a slight stint in retail.  she isn’t rich or famous, she’ just the babysitter of a rich and famous person, at best she’s middle class, possibly with money stashed away if she embezzled some from Birdie, but that’s doubtful.all she had as a form of income is taking care of Birdie despite how tough of a job is because her client is an idiot.

Secondly, is it the right thing to do to back Helen, yes, but they lost their only leverage with the napkin burned, which in an actual case wouldnt’ give them that much leverage even if the movie is pretending that it would.  the only chance they have is for the others to reveal what they heard, which they already wouldn’t since they lied under oath already. Even if she backed Helen, at best they win the case and she loses her job.  far more likely, she backs Helen and is fired, defamed by her former boss and her powerful friend, including a congresswoman and the richest man in the world who everyone thinks is a tech genius.  It’s one thing if they had proof, but there was nothing to gain except a moral victory that would amount to nothing but lose for her. Or the worst could happen and Miles who already killed a former friend and business partner, a current friend, and tried to kill Helen with a gun less than an hour before the reveal. Someone who owned the island, an island that they were stuck on until morning at the earliest.

third, why would she stick her neck out for Benoit and Helen, yes, it’s the right thing to do, all the Distruptors treat her at best as Birdie’s tagalong, but the two of them don’t treat her any better. Neither of them I think bothered to talk to her throughout the entire movie, or even look at her. Their only interactions with her are both of them treating her like the help, Helen as Andi shoving a drink in her hand while she can go off on the Disrupters and Benoit telling her to radio the boats.  While Peg didn’t look at all uncomfortable with Helen/Andi shoving her drink in her hands, it’s not getting to know her either.  They didn’t even bother to think of her as a suspect or someone who they could get information from.  It’s not like it would have been hard for Helen to talk to her, the way Peg looked at her she would have done anything for a moment alone with her.  Not sure if Peg had a thing with Andi that we don’t know about from before she got ostracized by the group, or if Peg was just attracted to women who are as beautiful as Janelle Monáe, which I cant’ blame her for.  But they didn’t even try to get info from her or treat her as anything other than Birdie’s accessory.

fourth, and while this doesn’t excuse Peg, she was drunk, probably insanely so.  before Duke dies, she has a her cup but she uses a bottle of some sort of liquor, I think Bacardi but I’m not a drinker, in Miles’ toast.  She’s not in a right state of mind and while the murder and lights going out might have sobered up her a bit mentally, the body just doesn’t work like that.  there’ maybe a hour at most between Duke’s death and the reveal, there’s a very good chance she’s still drunk in between the moment.  Mentally exhausted from dealing with Birdie’s garbage and treated like Birdie’s keeper/luggage I’d be drinking to or maybe high.  I’d also be more susceptible to going along with whatever a group, including my boss, wanted me to do. 

I’m not saying she’s a saint who was wrongfully accused.  Regardless of the reason, she sided with a murderer when she knew he did it.  But acting like she’s the same as the Disruptors is just wrong

[accustiv-archived]

@audaciiae sent: 📔 wait i also wanna see beaus notes about kit/the chameleon hehehe / accepting

a collection of experts from the records of beau carnegie regarding kit harris:

Entry 162 .

The Chameleon went to Oxygen today. The actual Chameleon. Apparently it was their birthday? Apparently they booked with Alex. Apparently they were wasted. Cas seemed super excited, which makes sense, but I also have a really bad feeling about this. I don’t think we need to be circling someone like that right now. Whatever, absolutely wild they’re only like 22.

Entry 173 .

Kit Harris. 22 years old. Fake redhead, fake RP accent. Currently operating out of Los Angeles. Currently fucking Alex Stanwick. Like right now. I had to hide in the bathroom until it was clear for me to get out. I haven’t asked Jack what info she has on them, I don’t need to, I can do my own homework.

Entry 176 .

Kit is taking Alex on a heist. I guess that means Cas is in their crew now? He’s being vague with the details, but from what I gather it’s Kit that doesn’t have a real plan, not that he doesn’t want to tell me. Kit’s operation is a little hard to understand, I genuinely don’t think there’s much actual structure? Loyal crew, though, which is always a concern when you’re lying to someone like that - loyalty is a lot harder to circumvent than job security.

Entry 181 .

They won’t leave him alone they won’t leave him alone they won’t leave him the fuck alone !!!!

Entry 189 .

This is the third time Casper has taken Kit’s target from them before they get the chance, and Kit’s still no closer to figuring out it’s him by the looks of it. I’ve asked him to stop. He won’t.

I have been looking into them as much as I can, there’s just nothing there. I found a few possible missing persons who could possibly be connected to the Chameleon, teenager that went missing from Chicago, a Scottish tourist that vanished in Cancun, a French Canadian hospital patient, and a Floridian who went to Mykonos and never came back. The dates all match up roughly, all of the cases have really suspiciously haphazard records, and I have absolutely no idea if any of them are anything at all or if I’m just wasting my time. I don’t like knowing who I’m dealing with. Who he’s dealing with. I don’t like it.

Entry 190 .

I think Kit stole M’s cheque. $25k taken from the safe? I know it wasn’t me, even if Casper seemed to think it was… I know it wasn’t me, I don’t steal from the house, what the fuck? He said Kit wouldn’t, that they would just break the lock rather than pick it, that he didn’t see any of their crew either, that they wouldn’t do that to him. But??? Kit doesn’t know Casper, they only know Alex, and Alex wouldn’t give a shit?

It was Kit, I know it was. But he won’t listen to me… I think he’s actually falling for his own con? I want to get out. I want him to get out. I don’t know what to do.

Entry 348 .

I fucked Kit... shit.

Entry 349 .

Cas gets out tomorrow. I’m going to pick him up. I don’t know if he’ll listen to me. I don’t know if I’ll be able to warn him. Kit wants to do some big reveal before things kick off, they have a flair for the dramatic, in case that hasn’t become excruciatingly obvious. From what they’ve told me it’s the manuscripts they’re after, I’ve checked the storage units I had access to, and found nothing. Kit’s also been looking, but I haven’t asked for details yet, I don’t want to show my hand too early. They still haven’t introduced me to anyone else in their crew, so I know they don’t trust me for shit, which means I am going to have to keep myself as unsuspicious as I can for as long as I can. If Kit wants those manuscripts, I want to know why. Then I can start to think.

Entry 361 .

They’re actually going to kill me.

Kit came round today, apparently Casper hasn’t been as thorough with his bug sweeps as I thought. They heard everything. I don’t know how much longer I can do this, I don’t know how much time I have left to win them back before they give up and just get rid of me. I don’t even know why I’m doing this anymore - I don’t know what I thought this would achieve, I don’t know why I’m so stupid. He doesn’t give a shit about me, I know that, so why can’t I just let Kit have him? Sometimes I think that’s what he wants anyway.

Anyway, the cut’s minor. If there’s a scar it will be minimal. So that’s something.

Entry 491 .

Fuck. Alright.

I’m encrypting these records with new software, and then I’m going to stop updating. If anyone finds these it will be Jack. I don’t even know why I’ve kept them this long. I don’t know what the point is. I don’t know. But I know someone’s going to die soon, I’m going to die soon. If I don’t leave, I will be killed. If I don’t draw a line under this fucked up toxic twisted bullshit between Casper and Kit, one of them will finally snap and kill me… Probably Kit. Probably to get to Casper - like that would ever work. Neither of them will notice I’m gone, not until they need something from me, anyway. I’m not going to say where I’m going. I’m not going to say when I’m leaving. Kit’s been too deep in my head for too long for me to even know if this is my choice, and the longer I stay pining for Casper, the harder it gets for me to see the surface. I’m drowning. I’m tired. I don’t want to be a pawn anymore. So I’m out.

Jack, if you do find this; I missed you.

Swiss Accounts are Here Here and Here.

Cayman Accounts Here and Here.

Bank of America Here.

HSBC Here.

Storage unit coordinates Here and Here.

I don’t need them anymore. The money’s yours.

If its Cas or Kit reading this? I have nothing left to say. Fuck you both.

[orphee-aux-enfers]

Hi, I'm sorry, please ignore this if this bothers you, but you mention being an "Informational Professional" and that it means you're against censorship. Could you explain that? I've never heard the term "informational professional" before.

Hi Anon, thank you for your kind tone, it’s very appreciated.

I didn’t intend to get into my professional life very much, but I can’t resist the opportunity to discuss my field, as it’s very dear to me. I apologize that this is about to get a bit pontificating towards the end.

An information professional or information specialist is someone who collects, records, organizes, stores, preserves, retrieves, and/or disseminates printed or digital information. This is a really really broad term, and covers a variety of professions including Librarians, Archivists, Information Architects, Cataloguers, Classificationists, Indexers/Taxonomists, Info systems specialists, info scientists, and arguably a large portion of what you’d likely call “IT”. My personally specialty is Knowledge Organization; that’s the chunk that is “Information Architects” through “Info systems specialists”. Right now I’m also teaching the basics of databases/Controlled Vocabularies and Reference Librarianship (aka Getting People Answers to questions they only sort of know they have).

Censorship is a very big issue in all of these fields. The ALA (American Library Association) has as one of its core values: “Intellectual Freedom: We uphold the principles of intellectual freedom and resist all efforts to censor library resources.” In general, censorship of both works and ideas is the number one enemy of any library, archive, or other information hub. It results in biased resources, and stifles creativity at best. At worst, it results in hegemonic powers taking over the sphere of whatever information hub is allowing censorship. Once you start censoring one thing, it’s a quick spiral into a lot of things being censored. This is a historical fact that you can look up if you research the history of say, banning books. This is actually a VERY current issue underway in many parts of the world but ESPECIALLY in the USA.

As a professional whose job is to put information in the hands of the people who need or want it, it means that at times, I will handle information that I personally would not like to handle. However, everyone has a right to their information needs and wants being met, so long as no real person is harmed in the process. This is a line that WILL result in ethical quandaries, and that is part of why all Librarians have a Master’s degree; a LARGE portion of LIS schooling is devoted to managing not only our own reactions but the reactions of others, and learning to navigate information spaces in an ethical and equitable way that ensures that ideas that cause no harm are not censored and if an idea MIGHT cause harm (such as, for example, Mein Kampf being held in a library), we look at it from all angles before we make our choice.

I know of a head librarian whose library users didn’t want conservative books in their library. She made an effort to introduce the books anyway, because she was concerned about diversifying thought and ensuring representation of all ideas. Because her patrons didn’t want the books, the books didn’t make the cut long term and were eventually “weeded”, or discarded from the collection for not being used. This is not censorship. This is an active practice of “Don’t like, Don’t read.” They didn’t protest it, they didn’t kick up a fuss, they certainly didn’t threaten their librarian for introducing the materials. They also, most likely, would’ve left anyone reading the books alone—because you’re not going to start a fight with someone in a public library.

This mentality is, I think, the one that we really need to have in fandom spaces. Let bygones be bygones, let people write and read what they want, and treat everyone as though they’re also just going about their day in a space like a public library. It would be so much healthier for everyone.

[yostresswritinggirl]

@butterfly-mochi​ Rewrote this freaking thing thrice because it keeps getting deleted wth tumblr agjvahkfajkvk- I enjoyed writing it a lot tho and since I’m too weak to the characters I ended up writing for all of them (except for Sucrose, im sorry bb huhu, I ran out of brain power). This is my first time writing for so many of them in one go so please excuse me for any mistakes or blandness ywy thank you for letting me write for my baby Ganyu too hhhhh

Universe Reversal 2

Genshin Impact Character Reader and Modern Players with Zhongli, Childe & Ganyu (how they simp for you) (event masterlist / Part 1 / Part 3)

Zhongli the F2P

The most relatable out of the bunch because this man is still broke and can only rely on the primogems he can farm. And he had a LOT. The one thing he doesn’t have a lot on, however, is his luck.

So how did he manage to pull you?: Well after exhausting all his primogem on your banner with nothing but weapons and other characters, he has lost his resolve. But by some weird luck, there was a character bug that was fixed and in his email was the almighty consolation primogem. Enough for ONE pull. And by the Gods he FINALLY got you.

He’d nonchalantly post his screenshot of pulling you using a single acquaint fate in his friend group without any words and everyone else just loses their shit. “You got them in one pull?!” “Yeah” A riot.

This was partnered with the fact that not only is Zhongli an F2P player, but also barely has any five star characters.

He looks calm and apathetic over the news, but behind the screen he’s exhausted and relieved, silently livid.

He has no primogems left to squeeze for a constellation so you’re instead pampered with the best weapon suitable for you (because that’s all he keeps getting).

Zhongles spends most of his time farming for materials to quickly level you up, unlocking all your stories and voiceline, but he fucked up on your build (his artifacts are messy).

He follows communities, forums and videos regarding your character to know all the things he needs to perfect your build. You can barely make a dent against normal mobs, so he knew he was doing something VERY wrong.

Is the type of person to keep refreshing the page for new content, very updated.

Ask him a question about your character and he’s gonna bring you the word vomit that is his research. He’s not gonna stop- probably accidentally developed a copypasta for you.

Also follows your VA in both Tiktok and Twitter to indulge in every bit of content. He also has that screenshot of his pull saved and locked.

On his birthday, a friend of his gifted him a chibi plushie of you and he has treasured it ever since, treating and handling it like its a figurine.

“It is merely pure luck and grace from the gacha gods that I got this character, and I will make sure that they know I am very grateful for this fortune.”

Favorite Voiceline: Birthday Message

Childe The Whaler

This lucky wealthy bastard with no remorse for his money whales for EVERY character. He’s making a collection, which is to get all the characters, especially the five stars. So when your banner finally popped up, he’s gonna square up and trigger a whole ass meteor shower.

How he pulled you: Money. His luck with this games are actually not the best so he always compensates with money, he got you halfway through the first failed pity, almost giving him a heart attack that he might actually break the bank just to get you.

And then he pulls more to raise your constellation lol.

The first thing he does is look over your character info and read through it all; constellation infos, your base stats, artifact compatibility.

At the end when he’s maximized everything, he would then focus on playing around with your character *coughs climbing noises coughs*

He thought you’d just be another part of his collection but playing with your character was very enjoyable and in-line with his playstyle- oops 100 screenshots with the Kamera-

Any and all merchandise that he fancies would be his, and he’s definitely flexing it to the other sweetie nerds who call themselves simps. He’s fighting for the simping title, and he’s currently neck and neck with this fanartist in Pixiv.

Speaking of that fanartist, he definitely commissioned an expensive and detailed portrait of you, full rights and everything. No one else was allowed to use it but him.

Was also the first one with the audacity to call out your VA to create an account on Tiktok to create more content with your voice. He was successful.

His obssession also comes in the form of self-indulgent contents, and had been keeping track of the ship wars happening. During conventions, he cosplays as the character shipped with you the most (or the character he thinks should end up with you).

Silently scrutinizing those who cosplay you, only ever taking pictures with/of the best looking one, sorry haha

Definitely flaunts that you are his waifu/husbando and will fight for best girl/best boy during debates or polls. Has mobilized the community to vote for you once. He’s very persuasive.

“Hm? Why I’m just the best collector in the game, and I am more than happy to let everyone know that I am their number one fan haha, everyone who claims otherwise is definitely wrong!”

Favorite Voiceline: More About (Y/N) I-IV, (Y/N)’s Hobbies...

Ganyu the Employed

Ganyu, our dearest overworker, is one of the players in the older stage who actually has a job but still plays Genshin for their past times. The gorgeous sceneries and the music is her main focus in playing the game, not much of a try-hard but still decent in the combat mechanics.

How she pulled you: You came home within 50 pulls! And you appeared again after another 10 pull! Ganyu was so SHOOKT and so distressed because oh goodness, what does she do? She doesn’t know anything much about you!

Will rewatch your three trailers to try and understand your skills better, ended up saving the soundtracks from them because that was such a nice trailer music! Tnbee gains a new follower!

Ganyu will take a while before she can properly play or build you up because she’s so busy with work, she only ever plays when she feels fully done with her work.

During her break she plays with your character while multi-tasking on eating, earphones plugged in and sight on the phone as she farms materials and artifacts for you.

The moment she gets more help from her player friends tho, holy shit, you just ended up being so OP. She had so many good artifacts and weapons for you because she didn’t know what they were for before.

She loves how you’re so easy to use and can easily solo the enemies and even the boss fights. A huge breather, because now Ganyu can cheese the battles that takes a while, to give her more time to focus on the storyline and lores.

Since Ganyu plays for the story and aesthetic, she’ll find you almost always in her team. Still very proud of her pull, she makes the best screenshots of your fights or in the best angle through exploration.

Treasures you so much she starts talking to her phone- “Ah, no, please don’t fall.” “There’s violetgrass up there, let’s try and get it”

Blushes everytime you produce a sound when climbing, doesn’t change you anyways tho

Hums to your trailer music while working, and if permitted, would have the song on repeat while she buries herself in work. She finds it really refreshing and the time she spends in work miraculously flies by fast when she gets lost in the sound.

At one point, when she was given a day-off or if the convention was on her free time, she attends to look for cosplayers of you and take a picture. No one rejects her because she’s so adorable and cute when asking shyly.

Had brought a decent amount of merchandise, preferably the functional/practical ones like a phone cover, mug or keychain. Also has an earphones clamp with your little chibi self as the holder.

When asked, she would shyly announce that she likes your character the most.

“Their character theme and music really soothes me during work, it feels nice to have them, and I have not once regretted ever pulling for them. They are the best.”

Favorite Voicelines: Good Night/Afternoon..., About Us, Something To Share..., Interesting Things...

so enjoyable...

@moaa @zelos-simp @legionqueensav @dandelion-dreams @snackgod @rxsalinee

[nobodyfamousposts]

Helluva Deal (Miraculous X Helluva Boss)

Well, since Miraculous crossovers with Helluva Boss/Hazbin Hotel are a thing now, I figured I’d write my own on how I think it would likely go. Since this IS the Helluva Boss universe, expect mentions of death and the afterlife, allusions to violence, innuendos, and general inappropriateness:

“Let me get this straight.”

Blitzo stared down the demon before him.

Said demon simply looked back, unimpressed. The little thing was small with blue skin, dorky-looking round glasses, and uneven horns. It wasn’t even a notable demon. Just a random weaker demon who somehow got the funds to pay for their services.

And normally, Blitzo was hardly one to turn down money—or a job that offered money. But this…

“You want to pay us to kidnap someone from Earth—not murder, which is in our company’s name, but kidnap. Which is decidedly more difficult and less fun.”

“Yep.”

Blitzo steepled his fingers together and held them up to his face. “And you want this person kidnapped—not so you can kill her yourself for whatever issue you may have, but because you want her to make you a jacket.”

“Yep.”

“A plain old jacket you could just get anywhere here in Hell.”

The demon gasped in offense. “It’s not just ANY jacket! It’s an MDC original piece and I want one!”

Blitzo took a breath, getting the feeling he was going to regret this. 

“Why?”

This…made the demon pause and eventually shrug. “Well, I did say I would have died for an MDC jacket. And I’m dead now, so…gimme.”

Well, who was he to argue with that logic?

Although…

“That is going to require quite a bit more effort…” He started, obviously leading…

The demon gave a flat look. “I’m not paying you double. I need the rest to pay her for the jacket.”

“Why would you want to pay for it?” Blitzo demanded. “This is Hell! You’re a demon! Just steal one!”

“It’s a commission! I have to pay for it!”

Blitzo would have spit out his drink if he’d had one.

“What are you even in Hell for, anyway? You won’t kill. You won’t steal. You just want to pay some human for a jacket you could get anywhere. What’s the point of that?” He asked, giving the other demon a strange look because really, what kind of demon WANTED to pay for things?

The demon stared flatly at Blitzo, his tail flicking against the chair in apparent increasing agitation.

"Are you saying that a commission shouldn't be paid for?” The demon asked curiously, sounding a little...too polite. “Because the last guy who tried to skip out on paying for a commission died. Eyes stabbed out and everything. Do you want to risk that kind of thing happening to you?"

…

Blitzo paled.

“Oh.”

The silence lingered to the point of long past uncomfortable as the demon continued to wait for an answer and Blitzo’s not so subtle attempt to desperately press his secret security button under his desk had no effect.

This would turn out to be because of Loona disconnecting the thing due to her hangover. Though in the moment, Blitzo would choose to blame Moxie.

After a good minute of no response from his team, Blitzo started to sweat when the determined artist demon seemed to grow bored and pulled out a pencil.

He jumped to his feet.

“We’ll take the case!”

And immediately fled the room.

_______

Once on Earth, the problem came up rather quickly that they had no idea who MDC was or how to access them. The client only knew the target was a fashion designer in Paris, which narrowed it down to one city at least but still was little help when the city in question was one of the fashion capitals of the world.

Blitzo, naturally, took the lead in trying to work out a means of information gathering.

And by “naturally”, what was really meant was “horribly failing”.

“I’m telling you, the plan is foolproof. We hold someone for ransom until MDC trades herself.” Blitzo said with apparent glee.

“Sir, that would be the exact opposite of subtle and get us the wrong kind of attention!”

Moxie, for his part, was trying to come up with what he would call “sensible plans”. Millie was simply scouting the area while the two argued. Ever faithful Loona stayed behind to try using her own connections…a magazine.

Needless to say, Blitzo was the one carrying the team. Or at least in his not-so-humble opinion.

Blitzo rolled his eyes. “I don’t see you coming up with any plans, Moxie.”

The smaller demon gave his boss a disgruntled glare. “I already told you! We should just go back and ask the client for more information!”

“Hmm…” Blitzo paused, before pulling out his phone. “Hey, Loona. The client still in my office?”

“Yeup.”

Blitzo immediately closed the phone. “Yeah—nope.”

“Sir—”

“He gouged a guy’s eyes out, Moxie! I need my eyes! I’m too pretty to lose them! They frame my face!” Blitzo exclaimed, bringing his hands up to his head in a fit of dramatics. “Is that what you want, Moxie? Do you want me to lose my precious, precious eyes?”

Moxie stared at the man like he was insane. Granted, Moxie had long had doubts about his boss’s sanity, but still...

“Hey, fellas?” Millie called, interrupting the two as she waved them over to the side of the building they had set up a temporary base atop of. “Listen to this!”

Blitzo immediately headed over, with Moxie following along behind looking annoyed. As they got closer, they heard what Millie had called them over about. Blitzo leaned over and peeked into the room in question.

Below them was an open window of the building where apparently a number of teenagers were gathered within for some inexplicable reason. And in this specific room, a group of the teens were gathered around one particular girl with a large forehead and hair that appeared to be made of meat. It was this girl who had their attention.

“—really friends with MDC?” One short blonde asked, looking overly excited like Blitzo did when he got a paycheck.

“Of course!” The meat-girl replied, looking smug. “We go way back! I was even the one who encouraged him to start in fashion and inspired his Heroes line.”

Blitzo looked back up at his team. “I thought MDC was a girl?”

Moxie shrugged. “If no one knows their real identity who's to say if they're a boy or a girl?"

“What else are they saying?” Millie asked, which returned the focus to the room.

More talking from below, using words that none of the demons really understood or cared about.

“—which was why he even made the Fox outfit for me!”

“Wasn’t that design based on Rena Rouge rather than Volpina?” One other girl with blue hair asked from the doorway of the room. She appeared to be rather annoyed for some odd reason.

The meat-girl looked somber. “Well, that was before he had to change it. After all, as bold as he is, not many people would support an akuma line, even if he had kept my idea to donate the funds to charity for the victims.”

The group “oo”-ed over the girl and praised her for her thoughtfulness. The meat-girl preened at the attention. The bluenette rolled her eyes. Some other blond guy looked on in disappointment.

“How amazing!” The little blonde exclaimed, clasping her hands to her cheeks. “I’d love to be able to meet MDC!”

“So would we!”

All eyes fell to the window which Blitzo, Millie, and Moxie used to make their entrance.

Honestly, he thought it was one of his better displays of dramatics. It certainly warranted some applause. Or screams of fear. Maybe one fainting.

“Akuma!”

Honestly, he was rather disappointed by the underwhelming response.

“I know we're demons and all, but I thought this place was French, not Japanese!"

“Nevermind that.” Blitzo replied to his workers before stepping forward to face the students.

Or rather one student in particular.

“Greetings! I am Blitzo. The two behind me are Millie and Moxie.”

The class stared as one of the two glared at them while the other waved cheerfully—or would be considered cheerfully if her teeth weren’t so razor sharp.

“We represent IMP, a for-hire group out of Hell. We take contracts, complete tasks, and make wishes come true!”

The teens looked at the demons in wariness and confusion.

“That sounds nice…” The little blonde in pink said.

“Those wishes generally involve murder.”

“I take it back! That sounds horrible!”

Blitzo grinned. “We are the ‘Immediate Murder Professionals’, dealing with the unfinished business of those poor wretched souls who are seeking some small vindication in their current status in Hell.”

“Then…why are you here?” The bigger male demanded.

Blitzo ignored him in favor of his true target.

“You! Ugly girl!” He shouted, grabbing the meat-girl.

“Hey!” She exclaimed, insulted.

He shook her. “Take us to MDC and we’ll rip out those sausage-links you call hair!”

“…don’t you mean ‘or’?”

He grinned ferally.

“No.”

She shrieked in fear.

“Lila!” Others cried out in horror.

Ah, yes. There was the fear. This, Blitzo was good with. It made him feel better about the previous lackluster response to his entrance.

“Why do you want me?!” The girl—Lila shouted, looking panicked. “I don’t know where MDC is!”

He raised an eyebrow at this. “But you said you were friends.”

She glanced around, taking note of the fact that her cohorts were still in the room. Though he didn’t know why that should matter for her answer.

“We are! But…I don’t know where he lives now! He’s moved since his name got out there and hasn’t given me the address yet!”

A glasses-wearing girl frowned in confusion. “But didn’t you just say that he invited you to his house for fittings?”

“Yeah, you said it was for the latest line that just came out.” Another girl with multi-colored hair added.

“That was months ago. Before he moved.” Lila replied quickly. “So I can’t help you.”

“Sure, you can!” Blitzo replied jovially. “We can just use you as ransom until MDC agrees to hand himself over.”

Moxie approached the two, keeping his gun leveled at the other kids. “We can save some time and see if she can’t call him.”

“Hey, yeah!” Millie agreed, grabbing Lila’s bag off of her and searching for her phone. “If they’re friends, she’s gotta have his contact info!”

“It’s not in there!” Lila replied quickly. “I was worried someone would steal my phone to get his info so I don’t keep his number in my phone!”

Millie frowned, before holding the now open phone up to Lila. “Then just type in the number yourself.”

Lila glanced around the room in growing agitation. “I can’t! I don’t have it memorized!”

“Then where did you write it down?”

“I lost it!”

The demons were looking particularly vexed.

“When and where?”

“It was a while ago. I don’t know where.” Lila replied.

A girl with glasses looked at her in confusion. “But didn’t you say you just called him this morning to congratulate him on the new line? And that he promised you a free outfit as thanks for all your help?”

Lila paled. “I—”

“Then the number should still be in the phone under its call history.” Moxie noted. Millie grinned and looked back to the phone screen to look through the data.

“I deleted it right after!” Lila shouted desperately.

Millie looked up at her in irritation.

Then promptly crushed the phone in her grip.

Lila shrieked, though it would be up for debate as to whether it was in shock at the loss of her phone or in fear that she may soon share that same fate.

Blitzo seemed similarly put out, but ended up shrugging it off as he pulled Lila closer to him. “Then it’s back to Plan A to hold her for ransom. Or torture her to see if she can’t remember the details.”

“No, please!”

“Lila!”

“Let her go!”

Lila grabbed at the arm holding her, panicked but not enough beyond reasoning. She couldn’t afford to reveal she lied now. She could only hope that these monsters would take her somewhere private where she could manipulate them with less witnesses.

Marinette, for her part, was also analyzing the situation.

These were three unknowns. Definitely not akumas. If they were to be believed, they were actual demons. From Hell. Which existed, apparently. And was where Lila would likely find herself in the next hour if she kept this up.

But from Lila’s expression, it seemed she was insistent on staying tight-lipped about her lies. Marinette figured as much due to her history. But she would have thought that Lila would have had some measure of self-preservation. Though perhaps that only applied to the preservation of her lies and manipulations rather than her own well being.

It was clear that Lila wasn’t going to get herself out of this. Not in any way that would spare her and everyone else in the room, at any rate.

As it was, the classmates were about to rally in Lila’s defense. While they had stood their own against akumas in the past,Marinette didn’t want to see how well they would fare against demons. Nor did she want to have to test if the Miraculous Cure would be enough to fix whatever would be left of them if they tried.

Marinette looked to the doorway.

No one was paying any attention to her right now. She could escape. She could go out, find a place to transform, and come back to deal with these…demons.

But by the time she returned, who was to say what could happen. The demons could kill Lila. They could kill all of her friends for being witnesses.

Ladybug may not be able to fix this.

But Marinette…as Marinette, she could.

“I’m MDC.” Marinette admitted.

Everyone froze.

“Come again.”

“MDC.” Marinette enunciated. “It stands for Marinette Dupain-Cheng. My name. I’m MDC. I’m the one you want.”

Alya stared. “Girl?”

Moxie looked at her in consideration. “That would fit with the client’s report of MDC being female.”

Millie, frowned in suspicion. “How do we know she’s really MDC?”

Marinette took a breath and slowly pulled out her tablet. “Well, my signature is in the clothes, so if you’ll let me pull up one of the shots, I can point it out and—”

Blitzo cut her off, grabbing her arm. “Yeah, I think we’ll just take you both and let the client sort it out. Sound good? Good, because we’re leaving.”

“Bye all!” Millie said, waving to the group. “Don’t do anything we wouldn’t do!”

Moxie rolled his eyes. “That’s a pretty short list…”

Blitzo ignored them an opened a portal, dragging both girls after him. Without a glance back, both Millie and Moxie followed him through the portal. Before anyone else could move, the gateway closed behind them.

A long pause followed.

“Not so fast!”

Suddenly, the door was kicked open as Chat Noir burst into the room.

The much less enemy-filled room.

“Um…did I miss the party?”

_______

The room they soon found themselves appeared, for all intents and purposes, completely normal. It looked like an office of the sort they’d find anywhere in Paris. Complete with a secretary’s desk, a few chairs, and a table littered with magazines.

The difference was made quickly apparent, however, through the view out the window. The landscape the deceptively quaint room was mostly a collage of red and black, with a sunless sky above and a myriad of strange buildings. Also of note where the various denizens of…distinctly non-human appearance wandering the streets outside.

“All right, ladies! Welcome to Hell!” Blitzo announced with a flourish, causing the girls to pale.

Lila fell back with a screech, landing on her butt and immediately attempting to scuttle back away. Her path was quickly halted as she bumped into something. Looking up, that “something” was actually a wolf monster, making Lila panic even further.

Loona, for her part, was not having a good morning—ignoring, of course, that it was actually the afternoon. And as if it wasn’t bad enough that her hangover still hadn’t cleared, now some…thing had shoved into her, followed shortly by an ear-piercing shriek that only made her head feel worse.

Seeing the way the wolf demon growled, Lila opened her mouth, possibly to scream even more when Marinette quickly shoved a hand over her mouth with a smile to Loona.

“Oh my! Your hairstyle is quite lovely!” She lied. Blatantly lied to the wolf girl’s face.

“It’s bed-head.”

“I couldn’t even tell. It looks so sleek and shiny!”

“Whatever.” Loona grumbled and stormed off to the break room, slamming the door behind her (and then immediately regretting it due to the noise agitating her headache).

Marinette decided to take the initiative. “So…what do you want with us, anyway?”

“Our client paid us a pretty penny—”

“Basic contract.” Moxie interrupted.

“Pretty. Penny.” Blitzo continued as if he hadn’t heard. “For a chance to meet with MDC.”

Okay, they had mentioned that before.

“Then what?”

“If you are MDC, you can do whatever the client is wanting. If you’re not, you’ll at least make for a decent distraction while we escape and blow up the building.”

The humans in the room blanched at that.

“WHAT?!”

“I know. She was a beautiful building.” Blitzo said mournfully as he actually wiped a tear from his eye. “And I just got my office arranged how I like it, too. But it

Marinette stared.

Lila whimpered.

“I second that ‘what’.” Moxie interrupted. “Nobody at any point discussed blowing up the building!”

“It was on page 3 of the handout I gave you this morning, Moxie.” Blitzo exclaimed, covering his eyes in exasperation. “At least read the mission briefings!”

“Sir, the ‘handout’ was a paper napkin. There was no third page!” Moxie insisted.

Beside him, Millie for her part was looking over the aforementioned napkin for the part that was supposed to mention the circumstances in question…or really any of the plan.

“We’ll discuss it later.” Blitzo said over his shoulder to Moxie as he proceeded to grab both human girls and drag them over to a previously closed door.

“Hey wait—!”

“Hang on!”

Within seconds, Blitzo opened the door and proceeded to shove both girls through before slamming it shut behind them, the last thing they heard being him mentioning where to buy explosives.

_______

So.

Recap.

Hell was real. Demons were a thing. And the two human girls were getting a first hand view of the less than pleasant or holy side of the afterlife.

Marinette was…actually taking it all in stride.

Lila was less so. She was sitting ramrod straight in the chair, keeping a tight grip on her knees and trying very hard not to move as her eyes glanced quickly around the room at the assembled demons.

Marinette actually felt bad for her. And probably should have been panicking herself, all things considered. Maybe she would have been had it not been for her extensive experience as Ladybug.

Sure, it was Hell, but floating gods and people turning into monsters had already broadened her horizons of the possibilities of the universe. Plus despite the name of the company that had kidnapped them both, murder didn’t appear to be on the table. All in all, despite the circumstances, Marinette didn’t feel that scared.

The fact that the “client” in question who hired the group was actually a fan of hers wanting a commission helped quite a bit with that.

As did the flattery.

“OMG! OMG! I can’t believe it! It’s you! Can I get your autograph?! No—wait! I need to focus! Can I get a jacket with your autograph?!”

“Thank you.” Marinette said, somewhat flustered. Honestly, she hadn’t thought she had gained THAT much fame. Especially not enough for someone to want to commission her from the afterlife.

…was that a thing? Could that be a thing?

“What I don’t get is why the other girl had to tag along?” The demon asked, curiously. “Is she your assistant or something?”

Lila brightened, looking ready to speak—likely to try to lie her way out of this. Or mess up what little peace Marinette had managed to create.

“No!” Marinette interrupted quickly, ignoring Lila’s petulant glare. “No, she’s not. There was just a mix up since they didn’t know where I was or who to bring.”

Blitzo rolled his eyes. “Well, how were we supposed to know?!”

“You could have asked me when I contracted you.” Said the demon, somewhat annoyed.

“I have a website, you know.” Said Marinette, very annoyed.

They paused.

“…the fuck’s a website?”

Silence.

Marinette coughed. “In any case, you wanted to commission me?”

“Oh, yes!”

_______

It didn’t take long to make the arrangements. Marinette named her prices and the demon was more than willing to pay her for her services. They made use of Blitzo’s office to negotiate and fine tune some details regarding the arrangement. From determining the materials to writing up the contract to negotiating the costs, it was all pretty professional.

And ultimately involved the humans not being murdered and the building not being blown up, which was always preferable.

It finally came down to determining just how the demon customer wanted the jacket to look, and Marinette started drawing out some sample sketches on spare paper in the office that may or may not have been important documents for Blitzo which she may or may not have particularly cared given the whole “kidnapping and being used as a sacrifice” matter.

The only issue seemed to be that the demon customer wanted the jacket to be made of materials that were only available in Hell. Which made sense, she supposed, since she wasn’t sure how long anything she made on Earth would last in this environment. Millie and Moxie had been sent out to gather the necessary material in question, and what they returned with was a strange sort of leather. It was unique and of a color she had never seen before, and part of her really wanted to get a bit more detail about the make.

…given how pale Lila had already gotten, Marinette kindly decided to refrain from asking questions.

“Well then, let’s go over a few sketches and determine which one you like.”

The demon looked almost giddy at the prospect. The IMP team looked relieved. Except Blitzo, who still seemed to be pouting over their takeover of his office.

Lila was…less enthused. “WHAT?! What are you thinking?! He’s a demon!”

Marinette shrugged. “Well, I do have a non-discrimination clause.”

“That shouldn’t apply to demons!” Lila hissed lowly.

“The demons who have brought us to Hell and are currently our only way of getting back.” Marinette pointed out, dryly.

Lila huffed and went back to her chair.

So, with Blitzo and his team begrudgingly kindly being forced willing to donate their office for her use, Marinette sent to work to try and design a jacket to the client’s taste as quickly as possible.

The sooner she got done, the sooner they could go back to Earth.

…hopefully.

Lila, for her part, was terrified and miserable and just wanting to go back to Earth. Immediately would be preferable. Even without Marinette.

Yeah, thanks Lila.

“Why do I have to stay here? Why can’t I go back home? Or do anything else?”

The client tilted his head. “Are you saying you don’t like art? Because the last person who told me they didn’t like art had their eyes stabbed out. With pencils. Would you want that to happen to you?”

“…can’t I like art and not stay in Hell?”

“No.”

Lila paled and sunk lower in her seat, where she remained quiet for the next couple of hours while Marinette worked.

It was mostly in silence as Marinette drew one sketch after another. Asking occasional questions about preferred length, how many pockets, special embellishments, and which parts of the various jacket styles did he prefer. Eventually, they had come to an agreement about the set look he wanted, the materials needed, and when he wanted it completed by. And from there came the matter of payment…

“Um…I’m not sure what the exchange rate is for Hell currency.” Marinette said, looking at the coins he handed her.

The demon frowned, tilting his head in consideration. “I could always rob a human bank and pay you with that.”

Marinette paled.

“This is fine. Really. I can probably buy some things from Hell with this.” She said with a forced smile.

“There are tons of things you can only find here.” Millie said, brightening. “We could deliver them for you!”

Well, that was a good point.

“That’s true.” Moxie agreed. “You could make other things with the fabrics here. Hats. Shirts.”

He paused, looking over his shoulder at Millie who was busy chatting with the customer regarding the fabric he chose. Seeing she was suitably distracted, he turned to Marinette. “So…how much would it be to make a dress. Just out of curiosity.”

Aww. Even in Hell there was love.

She smiled. “We can certainly discuss it.”

The moment was ruined as Blitzo stepped in and slung an arm around Marinette’s shoulder.

“How about one of those sexy maid outfits for the bedroom? You’re French, right?” He asked before giving Moxie a nudge. “You could stand to have a little more fun in the bedroom.”

“Sir, I’m 14.” Marinette replied dryly.

“And what we do in the bedroom is none of your business!” Moxie rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Didn’t we just have a discussion about this last week?”

Marinette coughed as the two started to argue. “So…um…are we going to return to Earth so I can start working on this?”

Blitzo sighed. “Fine, fine. Killjoys.”

Lila heaved a sigh of relief. “Oh thank God.”

_______

With an agreement forged between Marinette and IMP to have the customer’s order completed and delivered within two week’s time, Marinette and Lila were safely deposited back in their classroom no worse for wear.

…well, physically. Mentally, there were probably going to be a few scars.

Several of their classmates had apparently remained since the earlier incident. Perhaps it was out of worry? Or maybe classes had resumed after their disappearance—akuma attacks and strange circumstances had become rather common, after all.

Still, it was Alya’s cry of surprise and then being pulled into a hug that assured Marinette she was, in fact, back home.

“You’re back!” Alya exclaimed, relieved. “We were so worried!”

It wasn’t every day your best friend and classmate was dragged to Hell, after all.

“—and I’d been trying to reach out to Ladybug and Chat Noir, but only Chat showed up and Ladybug must be busy or maybe she already knew? Did she help you? How did you escape?”

Part of her wondered if Alya had even stopped to breathe. The rest of her was just basking in the happiness that they had made it back safe and nothing too terrible had happened in the meantime.

The absolute LAST thing she needed was to come back and find out Hawk Moth had let loose another akuma that destroyed Paris while she was gone.

Alya suddenly gasped as though struck by a thought.

“Oh my god, Marinette! I can’t believe you did that!”

Marinette smiled. “Well, I had to—”

“You claimed to be MDC just to protect Lila! And here I thought you hated her!”

Happy feeling gone. Gone like a punch to the face. Knocked out. Dead, even.

Alya beamed. “I’m so proud of you, girl! I knew deep down that—”

“Nope!” Came a quick interruption. “That’s not what happened. It was just a lie. Completely and utterly.”

The interruption was half expected.

The fact that it came from Lila was not.

Everyone froze.

“What?”

“I never met MDC.” Lila explained, wasting absolutely no time with subtleties and just blurting it out. “I never knew Marinette was MDC. I just lied about knowing him because I thought he was the next big thing and I knew you would all believe me.”

“…what?”

Lila sighed. “I lied about knowing MDC. And being the muse behind his fashion line—well, hers. Since Marinette is MDC. She never lied. I did.”

The classmates were startled, but seemed to be taking in the information.

Rose, for her part, tried to be positive. “Oh...well, you didn’t have to lie about knowing MDC—”

“No, I mean about everything. Ever. In fact, there’s probably not a single time we’ve known each other that I was ever honest with any of you.”

Everyone stared.

“I’ve been lying since the moment we’ve met.” Lila continued. “I am a liar. Always have been. I am a horrible lying liar who lied about everyone I ever claimed to know and everything I ever said I did just to get you all to admire me because it was easier to manipulate you that way and get you to do things I wanted. From interviewing me for the Ladyblog to carrying my lunch tray to buying me things. I lied about having tinnitus just to get to sit next to Adrien and lied about not being interested in him to manipulate Nino into guilting him into letting me come to his house. Ladybug herself even called me out for lying. And when Marinette got upset that day I came back over the seat change? I threatened her in the bathroom because she was wise to me from the very start.”

A few stares were sent Marinette’s way. She didn’t have any explanation for them though. She was just as surprised as they were. More, even.

Lila shrugged. “Everything I’ve said. Everything I’ve done. All lies. Ever.”

Everyone gaped in shock. Nobody even really knew what to say.

Marinette started. “But why—”

“Because that was Hell, Marinette. HELL. The bad place you go to after you die, reserved for bad people. And until today, I didn’t even think it was real. Or that there could be a chance I could end up there. But I imagine if anything would warrant that, it’d be lying, manipulating, and trying to get revenge on a superhero.”

Nino blinked. “Wait…what was that last one—”

As if a great weight was lifted from her shoulders, Lila sighed. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go join a convent to try and save my soul now that I know I have one.”

With that, she promptly exited the room, leaving the group staring after her in complete bewilderment.

Alya gaped. “...what?”

_________

Epilogue: 

Marinette completed her commission to the demon and later for Moxie. Her fame increased in both realms and she eventually did open up her own design house. The only issue came in the customers who wanted to pay her by removing her competition, which she was mostly able to prevent until IMP took a hit on Gabriel Agreste. While Marinette did stop the attempted murder, this did still reveal his secondary identity of Hawk Moth, allowing the Butterfly and Peacock to be recovered and peace to return to Paris.

The classmates were shocked at the reveal of Lila’s true nature, but were more bewildered than anything given how it happened. They did all feel foolish and embarrassed for trusting Lila, but considering what could have happened, they all chose to take it as a life lesson to be more cautious in the future. They all remained friends and moved on to live quite fulfilling lives.

IMP formed a contract with MDC and gained a secondary job of delivery service as well as assassins, which increased their profits.

And Millie loved her new dress.

Lila Rossi convinced her mother to send her to a convent, where she became one of the most pious and devout members, spreading the message of being good in life more than any other.

[spiltscribbles]

Prompt: Pro Athlete Sirius because that my and Remus' kink

~Notes: OMFG VICTOrIA!!!! I FUCKING SCREECHED!!!! lkadfjlaksdgjoiaejfalskdgjioeugisfkldshg Yes tis my kink as well!!! And then I saw this from Nonny and worlds collided and BOOM! I hope you like this my love<3<3 You incredibly talented sugarplum!!! TBH I want to write a thousand more things in this AU XD

.-

FROM THIS LIST  |  Send Me A Prompt!💜 | A REBLOG MEANS THE GALAXY!!💜

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When Remus was young— surrounded by the light breeze of the Welsh coast and the harmony of birds chirping in the distance— he would follow his mother to their small garden behind their cottage  at the cusp of twilight as his father cooked their supper, and he’d watch as she laid flat all sorts of newspapers written in French and Arabic and English, watch as she brought her red pen against the ink and marked the articles with underlines and shorthand he wouldn’t understand for years still.

He asked her once, when he was barely eight years old, why she bothered to keep up with so many different publications, why she read the same story penned by countless perspectives when all the facts stayed the same at the end of the day. And he remembers how she had let out a quick, shrill of a laugh, tossing back her golden head while sucking in a puff from the bubbling hookah she had set up besides her— a habit she acquired from her Algerian, refugee parents, and one that became synonymous to those late nights in Remus’s eyes.

“Facts can be wielded to someone’s personal vendettas, Remus John,” she had crooned in that adoring way of hers whenever she spoke to him— honey eyes that were the same color and shape to Remus’s own flashing alight and their matching smiles going crooked in her stunningly beautiful face. 

“Oh.” Remus had replied, still confused as all get out but was perfectly fine with just holding his small vigil, watching her beneath moonlight and the soft glow of their outdoors lamps, as he listened to the shuffling of papers while she commenced this odd quirk. 

It’s a decade and a half later—  as his editor for the Phoenix, a small, but bustling online editorial that plans on dethroning the likes of Politico and Vox in only a matter of years, scans his latest findings on the corrupt boosters linked to MP Avery from Leeds— when Remus thinks he suddenly understands what his mother, with her keen eyes and pixelated air, had meant by facts in how they can be colored differently simply by the words surrounding them. And he wonders if one day soon, one of his bylines will join her little stack of stories, if she’ll be proud of him even if she says as much even now, when he’s a lost twenty-something stumbling through life in the capitol and barely making it as is, between his actual job and the gig he has at the coffee shop nearest his dingy flat he shares with three other blokes.

“Mmm, this is good, Lupin,” Dorcas declares after what feels like an eon, dropping her long, dark legs from where they were lounging leisurely on her desk and scuffs out her cigarette in a pretty, glass ashtray. “Send it over to Flores to look into deeper, maybe it’ll corroborate the info she’s already gotten from her sources.”

Remus feels himself bristle, hopes that it doesn’t show, that his face stays passive as he contends, “I think I should at least help her write the expose, I’m the one who got this bombshell.”

“That’s not how it works, sweets,” Dorcas toots, tossing back her dark head of curls as she rises, perching on the corner of her desk delicately and looking down, straight into his gaze. “I know it’s frustrating, but you’re fresh blood. barely six months here, but Alice has been with us for years. This is her baby, and we’re just here to nurture it.”

“So I’ll have to wait another ten months, at least,  to get the same treatment?” He argues in an admittedly petulant way, making Dorcas laugh endearingly, and Remus is suddenly,  searingly reminded of his age, and how he’s the youngest staffer that this London based news outlet has on hand. 

“C’mon, love, it won’t be that long for someone as sharp as you, just be patient, and don’t try to pull a Zoe Barnes on us, yeah? You’re far too pretty to clean up on the rails of  the tube.” Dorcas tousles a hand into his dark tawny curls, and Remus holds back the roll to his eyes that he feels willing up inside of him as he stands fully.

“Thanks Cas.”

She smiles beatifically, and throws him a wink. “You’re joining Emmy for the report tomorrow on those United footballers and their fundraiser for the hospital, yeah?”

“Bright and early,” Remus replies, still feels a bit miffed that he was chosen to write up the charity function, considering he doesn’t know a lick about football and doesn’t really get on with anyone who does. But Caradoc— their typical sports reporter— is out sick with the flew, so it’s on him. “I’ll have it on your desk early enough so it’ll be published by tea time.”

“Good man,” Dorcas says in thanks, picking up her crowing cellphone before waving him off.

Remus isn’t all that surprised when he strides out of the office only to find Benjy Fenwick sitting against the opposite wall, knees pressed to his chest and quickly scrambling up when he catches sight of Remus. Sometimes it’s impossible to believe that the bespectacled man in front of him is one of the top editors for the Phoenix, that he’s a regular corespondent for places like the BBC or CNN— that his rebukes against the piss poor inquiries waged during PMQs have become more anticipated than the sessions themselves. Remus tends to forget all of that when he sees him like this, messy haired and wearing a graphic T-shirt with some marvel superhero embossed on the front. “Wotcher Remus.”

“Hiya Remus says, smiling softly and rocking back on his heels. “You wanted to talk to the sergeant then?”

“Huh? Oh, no, no. I didn’t want to talk to Dorcas, I just— Erm, I know you were showing her that stuff you got from that intern, Pettigrew, and i know you were chafed about not getting any opportunity here so—“ He trails off, scratching the back of his head and studying a point over Remus’s shoulder, and it’s all too endearing, and Remus is so beyond thankful he’s made such a good friend here.

“No cigar,” he says in answer to the unspoken question, shrugging noncommittally even if he feels like shit over it.

Benjy nods, face contrite in a way that tells Remus he never thought it would’ve went otherwise. “I’m sorry, that’s bollocks.”

“’S whatever,” Remus shrugs off the apology, begins walking down the hall and straightening his report to hand over to Alice. 

“Ah,, erm. We can get a drink, yeah? In commiseration,” Benjy offers, and Remus stilts only for a beat before continuing the twisting trail to where Alice is set up with the more senior members on staff. And he feels only sorta bad about wanting to refuse. He knows that if he says yes, it’ll mean something different to Benjy than it does him, that he’ll probably take it as Remus finally giving into his pestering and deciding to actually go out with him, even if he���s refuted the other four times he’s asked as much. Remus’s simply just too busy trying to get a footing in this city, and trying to figure out where he’s suppose to go from here, and what he’s suppose to do. And yes, Benjy is cute— a complete Seth Cohen archetype. And he’s sweet and smart and funny enough. But Remus is really not in the mood for doing the whole flowers and wine and candle lit dinners shtick, had gotten enough of that while still with his university boyfriend. And yeah, he’s only just turned 24, but he already feels too old and too jaded for that sort of puppy love— even if Benjy’s got a good decade and some change on him.

Probably sensing his hesitation, Benjy is quick to rectify the offer. “I’ll ask Mary, and Fabian too, and a few others. We can make a night of it, just some drinks on a Friday after work.”

Stalling by the last turn to Alice’s desk, Remus looks at him from over his shoulder, and sort of hates himself for being such a soft hearted fuck sometimes. “Yeah Benj, sounds nice. Just let me know on the group chat, yeah?”

Benjy grins, much more genuine than his awkward quirk of the lips from earlier. “Yeah, good call, I’ll let the others know pronto.”

“Aces,” Remus says, tosses him a obligatory thumbs-up before finding an expectant looking Alice who’s tapping her foot impatiently.

Yeah, today is so bloody shit.

.-

Surprisingly, the round of drinks turns to another and then a third and fourth and Remus is currently nursing his fifth mango margarita on Benjy’s tab, and he actually feels lighter than he has since taking the job at Phoenix, feels bright and bubbling and like absolutely nothing could be wrong as long as he’s got this drink in his grasp and he’s sitting with the handful of reporters and photographers from the office that don’t all have sticks up their asses. It’s fun, it’s good. So obviously it couldn’t have lasted.

Mary is currently cackling about her Uber driver from last night who asked her all sorts of well meaning, but incredibly dense questions about her hijab— a freshly poured glass of coke in one hand, while the other is tangled into her girlfriend Emmy’s. And From his left Remus can hear Fabian ribbing Frank on his crush on Alice, while Benjy scoots intermittently closer as they watch Kingsley and Marlene sparring over something to do with a Kardashian or TikTok trend or whatever the fuck else— The guy has resilience, Remus has to give Benjy that.

“Right, who’s buying next?” Marlene asks, abrasive as ever while scrolling through her phone, ostensively finding something to prove her point against the managing editor.

“Reckon it’s my turn,” Benjy crows, standing up smoothly and glancing down at Remus with a nervous sort of half grin.

“Just a water for me, ta. I need to sober up,” Remus tells him, feels proud that he didn’t even slur slightly. Benjy bobs his head understandingly, and Remus turns to ask Marlene about her latest tinder hookup which always is a good laugh, but then he catches on it. On the sound of the pub’s doors flinging open, followed by a raucous crowd of athletic looking guys probably only a bit older than he is, clambering indoors. 

They’re all so very sixth-form, broad grins and slapping each other’s shoulders with jeers, topped off with loud, bark like laughter that makes it obvious to Remus that these wankers think that they’re some sort of group of gods amongst men, roaming around like everyone should fall to their feet and offer everything they have. It makes Remus roll his eyes so far back that it feels like he might’ve sprained them. They just give off this exhausting aura that reminds him of a past boyfriend in tenth year who was on the footie team and who’s favorite activity was either making Remus feel lucky enough to go out with someone so popular, or dragging him around like some sort of bloody trophy.

To put it nicely, Remus sorta hates them on sight. So when he sees one of the tossers— regrettably the brightest of the lot who’s all pearly teeth, and glittering eyes and incredibly impressive shoulders that tape off to a narrow waste in an objectively infuriating matter— swivels up to the barkeep and jostles Benjy on his way, well Remus doesn’t hesitate to dart forwards to tell him off.

“Oi, watch where you’re going, yeah?”

Benjy and the bloke who looks like he might moonlight as a model for Calvin briefs for when he’s not lounging in a yacht off the Tuscany coast, both turn to him at the same time. Benjy looking abashed, and the aforementioned tosser preening like the cat who’s just caught a canary.

“Sorry, love. Didn’t see you there,” he says in a delightfully deep tenner, giving Remus an appreciative once over, and Remus absolutely despises how the action makes him feel both thrilled and irritated. “Trust and believe, I wouldn’t have looked away if I saw you.”

“Not me, arse.” Remus spits back, refuses to pay any credence to how his cheeks have begun to flush. “You bumped into my mate right there, the one with the tray of loggers.”

The tosser darts his almost molten gray eyes over to Benjy for a sparing second before he laser focusses back onto Remus, the most phony expression of contrition all over his face. “Sorry to your friend,” he says the descriptor like a joke that no one else is in on. “Let me buy you a drink in sorry for the one I made slim here spill.”

Remus is officially unimpressed, hopes that his flat tone gets it across. “You’re an arse.”

“You’re mouthy,” he retorts, looks like it’s something he greatly appreciates— delights over even. 

“Ah, ’s fine Remus, really. I’ll just bring these back and get us a new glass.”

“Listen to slim, Remus, he’s got the right idea.” The tosser hurriedly interjects, strutting close enough to him that he makes it so Remus has to tip his head back just slightly so not to drop his gaze. “I’m Black, Sirius Black, just to get the pleasantries out of the way.” His leer tells Remus that the name should probably evoke some response of aw into Remus, but all it does is make him sound so egregiously pretentious that Remus wants to smack his own bloody head against a dry wall and stay in the hole until this ruddy Sirius bloke leaves him the hell alone.

“Good for you,” he says instead of all of that, and spots Sirius’s friends from behind Sirius chuckling and elbowing one another. Evidently this is a line the tosser uses frequently, and Remus is pleased that he might be one of the first who aren’t at all impressed by the grandiose way he introduced himself.

“Hah, you know I’m use to the pretty ones playing hard to get, but I’m really feeling here that you’re not exactly liking my company, love.”

Remus sucks in a frustrated breath through his nose, shouldering past Sirius and taking the tray of drinks from Benjy before storming back to their table where the others have begun openly gawping at the scene— Marlene outright squawking with Fabian just as Remus takes his seat.

“Don’t,” Remus warns them all as he silently says fuck off to the water and instead gargles down one of the loggers. And if he has to steadfastly not turn around for the rest of the night towards where he can feel Sirius’s gaze burning into his back— well then so be it.

.-

The next morning, Remus has to puke twice into the toilet, and gulps down three aspirins just to stave off his bloody hangover from the night before where he decided that getting properly sloshed would prove as a good technique to not end up making out with Sirius in some dark corner— or regrettably the backseat of his car. And if he does still remember flashes of ranting to him about how insufferable preppy, rich boys actually are while Sirius gazed at him endeared— well Remus just decides to purge it out along with the stomach acid. It’s not like he’ll ever see the douche again.

.-

He meets Arthur— one of the accountants who also helps out by taking photos for more low key news stories— outside the hospital where the conference will be taking place with the Manchester United team. There was a scrimmage that they all played with some of the kids in the cancer ward that occurred at around eight in the ruddy morning, but thankfully Remus didn’t have to show up until an hour later when the team presented their big shiny check, to the big, shiny hospital. 

However, Arthur has been here for hours, so he’s beyond chirpy and looks like he’s downed three cups of espresso as he chatters on about his son Percy starting secondary school, and his eldest, Bill, getting an award for his reading prowess, and all the strange craving his wife has been having throughout her pregnancy with the twins they’re expecting any week now. And Remus loves Arthur, he does— one of the sweetest folks he’s ever met— but God, his head is still thrumming from those misguided tequila shots and he really just wants to get his three quotes, and write up the story so he can find refuge back in his sheets.

While Arthur has moved to talking about his wife, Molly’s, plans to open up a daycare in their refurnished garage, Remus scans his eyes over the familiar face of reporters from other outlets who look just as bored as him, and then to the stage where a woman in a sharply pressed suit is ushering for the group of football stars to join her, so that the conference can finally fucking begin. 

And Remus thinks that their faces are sorta familiar, probably from all the publicity they get on the telly— but then he freezes as he stops at one of them with dark brown skin, and thick rimmed spectacles— and he suddenly can hear him chatting about his redheaded girlfriend and drunkenly declaring that she’ll be the mother of his children some day soon. So he completely expects it when his stomach drops as he moves his glance just a bit to the right, being struck by pearly teeth, and glittering eyes and incredibly impressive shoulders that tape off to a narrow waste, made all the more infuriating by the tight kit he’s got on and the blazing number twelve splayed against his chest.

And fuck.

Remus runs through about a dozen scenarios in which he can make a discrete, or not so discrete exit before he notices him, but in tandem to his spiraling thoughts, the wanker actually looks forwards, and like a creepy metal detector, his quick silver gaze pinpoints onto Remus.

They stare at one another for a beat before his smirk goes wolfish, and he runs a hand through his artfully tousled hair in a way that practically screams, fancy meeting you here. And holy fuck he looks so mouth watteringly attractive with that faint film of sweat running down his neck, and how his smile pulls slightly more to the left, and how he’s looking at Remus like he’s his birthday and Christmas presents all rolled into one.

Remus suddenly hates everything— but most of all hates Sirius, and how bloody fit he is.

“Oh, you’re a fan then?” 

Starting, Remus shifts around slightly so that he’s facing Arthur completely. “Pardon?”

“Sirius Black I mean, you’re a fan?” Arthur asks in that abrasively congenial and intensely scrutinizing way that he treats everything. “I mean he’s a great player, but I know you don’t really watch. So I bet it’s all that charity work he does, yeah?”

“Charity work?” Remus echos, feeling like a floundering fish.

“Truly some amazing stuff.” Arthur pontificates, rubbing a hand against his jaw as he tips his head back. “I mean obviously I’m partial to the fundraising for Reporters Without Borders, but of course the things he does with the more impoverished kids is great. And I know Molly likes his very outspoken posts about being anti war and his annual live streams to earn money for refugees in those war torn nations, like the last one he did for Syria?”

“Oh—“ Remus says, feeling like his head is being overrun by a fountain of new information.

“Yes well, you don’t usually see athletes get into the thick of it with political issues, but I reckon he never really minded. I mean the fact he’s the first football star from United to have come out without any fanfare really proved that. Oh, I think they’re starting, I should probably get some photos before Dorcas gives me a tongue lashing.”

And as quick as the flash of his camera’s lends, Arthur is using his considerable height to get to a more advantageous spot towards the front, and leaves Remus in the dust, as if he hasn’t just obliterated his every assumption of Sirius from after that initial meeting.

And unbidden, the words his mother had told him so many years ago, about facts and how they can color a situation just simply based off the person who’s speaking them— flood to the forefront of his mind.

“Fucking hell,” Remus mutters lowly, gets jostled by Greengrass, a hawkish reporter from a rivaling publication who always has on the most wickedly sharp acrylic nails, and perfectly quaffed curls— as she waves around her certification to speak her inquiry.

“My question is for Potter,” she announces when the woman leading the event, McGonagall, points her way. “And I was wondering how early you boys have to rise for training during the season? And how intense the sessions are that Coach Hooch puts you guys through?”

Potter, the one with the redheaded girlfriend that Remus heard so much about last night between his ranting at Sirius, parts his lips, but it’s not his voice that ends up reverberating through the outdoors space. Instead, it’s Sirius, who’s shouldering him with a goading air, obviously expecting his comment to have only ended up in Potter’s ear and not caught by the mike.

“I wonder if Lupin will let me wake up with’m so he can let me get some real training done before practices, eh?”

And just as soon as his words pitter off, the entire crowd drops to a hush— quiet enough so that they could probably hear it if a pen dropped. 

Sirius’s handsome face— strong jawline, and broad but sharp cheekbones, and a long, narrow nose— goes suddenly ashen, and he flashes over to Remus as if he’s terrified that he’ll bite his face off.

God, what an idiot.

With a long suffering sigh, Remus plucks out the microphone from a slack faced Greengrass’s hand. “We can discuss the regimen afterwards, Black. Just meet me by the front doors and let your mate answer the bloody question.”

Everyone around them falls into laughter that’s caught between uncomfortable chuckles and amazingly amused cackling, but the only person Remus is paying any mind is Sirius, and how he seems to have gone absolutely incandescent, nodding electrically before miming the zip of his lips and gesturing for Potter to carry on.

Jesus help him, Remus has no idea what he’s gotten himself into.

.-

~My Wolfstar FIC Masterlist

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[eatyourchancletas]

SUMMARY |  y/n l/n; the trauma surgeon who was in the wrong place at the wrong time and is taken hostage by the terrifying mafia known as ateez. despite their situations, love arises between the doctor and san; but when an enemy comes in between the group, breaking trust and belief between the members, what will san choose to save; his newfound love or his brothers?

PAIRING | choi san x male reader

INFO/CATEGORY | mafia au, fluff, light angst

WARNINGS | violence, weapon usage/mention, foul language, lower case writing

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AUTHOR’S NOTE | we’re back! sorry for the long break, hopefully we can get into the flow of things! monnie’s already started chapter 5 off amazingly too :p written by both of us this time (mainly edited by monnie)! please leave feedback, like, reblog, whatever you can to let us know whether you enjoyed it or not!  (re-edited because dongwoo and changsik were switched up)

WORD COUNT | 2.4k

TAG LIST :; @jonghoshoe​  if you’d like to be added to the list please say so in our inbox/ask box!

y/n was usually called outstanding, hard-working, smart. but in reality, he was an idiot when he was outside the workforce. 

being a workaholic meant showing your skills, growing them, improving them, and practicing them constantly. sometimes it seemed to be all he knew— it’s what all the people around him saw. 

yet again, outside of it he’s quite a gullible man; which brings him to his current situation… 

“looking for something?” 

he looked away from the bandages he was previously examining to come face to face with a man that looked around his age. “not really, just restocking my clinic. or—trying to find things to restock it with.” the man nods, glancing around suspiciously, although y/n didn’t didn’t seem to take notice of this particular action. 

“this pharmacy is pretty small, but it has lots of good supplies… lots of hidden gems. want me to show you where i get my tools?”

“oh,” y/n blinked in surprise, “you’re in the medical field?”

the man made eye contact with him, managing a convincing smile. “yeah, there’s a clinic down the road from here, about fifteen minutes by foot, this is the nearest pharmacy, so we stock up from here most of the time. i work there as an assistant.”

y/n nodded, amusement sparkling in his eyes. “wow, then please! show me what you suggest.”

at the approval, the man nodded, “name’s changsik, by the way. what do you work as? i’m assuming you’re also in the medical field.”

they walked along the aisle of the cough syrups, ointments, and the few other medicines to turn and make their way to the exit door. y/n furrowed his brows, about to ask why they were exiting until changsik made another turn, walking towards the staff room. 

“your assumption is correct, i’m a surgeon…” he replied belatedly, trailing off as he stepped foot inside the room. his eyes trailed on the shelves full of unopened boxes, more prescription pills, and—bingo! the supplies he’d written down on his list. 

for a split second, the memory of san handing it to him flashes across his mind, blinking it away as he turned to changsik. “wait, how are you able to access this?”

“i’m a regular.” he glanced across at him, looking past the window. “and also the perks of having a pharmaceutical license,” a hefty laugh left his mouth, “took some convincing though.” 

“huh,” y/n squatted down, inspecting a box that was on the floor, “i guess that makes sense.”

“just put what you need in a box and take it out. i’ll just say you’re helping me take it back.” changsik smiled, watching y/n nod and do so.

after a few minutes, y/n finished and announced he was ready to check out. changsik’s eyes met one of the cctv cameras before settling on y/n. 

“alright, let’s go check out.” 

as they walked toward the front, they reached the hallway that led to the exit. just as y/n was going to walk past, toward the checkout counter, a hand forcefully grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him back. he looked behind him, in a startled manner, thinking changsik had just forgotten something. however, a deeper fear struck when changsik’s hand moved to clench at the back of his collar. 

“don’t make a sound.”

the second the cold blade touched the skin of y/n’s neck, the surgeon knew to stay quiet. there was a burning in his throat as he struggled to swallow, scared to trigger any abrupt movement. his frantic mind jumbled about, words of scolding placed toward himself and the situation while trying to get a grip. he thought of using the in-ear to alert jongho, but it would risk exposure of the communication device: in any case… he’d be dead by then.

“what is taking him so long?” jongho grunted, tapping his foot in impatience. it’d already been about 10 minutes since y/n entered the store—it shouldn’t take that long for a surgieron to find equipment that’s of medicinal standard!

tapping his in-ear and calling out the doctor’s name, he got no response. placing his face mask on, he rushed into the store, beckoning the cashier. “have you seen a man, about 6’3” with h/c hair?”

the cashier stared at him with a shocked look, “yes, but he went back toward the restrooms. is he dangerous?”

jongho shook his head before running toward the back of the store. he shoved against the restroom door, shouting out the older’s name as he threw open each stall door. finally admitting the fact that the older had disappeared, he tapped his in-ear once more, calling out for anyone.

“jongho, what’s going on?” hongjoong had intercepted the connection, hearing jongho’s worried voice.

the bodyguard had no time to register the primal fear that would settle itself in his bones once faced with the leader, “it’s y/n, hyung. he ran away.” 

jongho returned to the headquarters after scoping out the area once more and had just entered through the front door when he was met with the sight of the whole group. 

hongjoong was staring at him with his jaw clenched and an almost empty whiskey glass settled in his lax hand. jongho had never seen a look so severe in hongjoong’s eyes—he’d never messed up this bad. and apparently, the leader wasn’t the only one emotionally affected by his mistake, because before hongjoong could even physically express his own anger, san had snatched the glass from his hand and launched it at jongho, missing his head by less than an inch.

everyone was shocked at his silent outburst, san even going as far to ignore the immense pain in his abdomen and on his shoulder, but hongjoong simply sent the younger a look, causing him to cower back in the slightest. jongho, however, was enraged at what had just happened. what gave san, who had no superiority over him, the right to do that?

“what the fuck was that?” he had stormed over to the boy, grabbing his shirt with both fists. san didn’t back down, sticking his jaw out toward the youngest.

“how could you lose y/n?”

“i was told no matter what to avoid cameras, so i stayed outside! i didn’t exactly think the fucker would have the balls to run away!” 

everyone watched the two, eyeing when to step in and pull them apart. but hongjoong let them run their mouths. the longer someone talks, the more something is revealed. what he was looking to be revealed, he didn’t know; but something would come up.

san pushed back against jongho, “y/n hyung wouldn’t run away. he’d never do that!” 

‘oh,’ hongjoong perked in interest.

the younger scoffed, “what makes you so sure?”

san’s next words came as a bit of a shock, leaving the others with silent questions, “he promised he’d come back.”

bingo!

an awkward silence filled the room as they all stared, speechless at how hopelessly fond their brother had become for their hostage. as much as some of them hated to admit it, y/n was only a hostage to them at the end of the day. and for san to fall into a reversal stockholm syndrome of sorts was nothing short of  a disappointment. however, that couldn’t be the main focus, y/n was missing and they didn’t know how strong his resolve would be in the event of torturing.

“run us back on what happened, will you?” hongjoong told jongho, trying to get a clear picture on what went down because the first thing they needed to know was why y/n was taken, much less, who took him. was it by the same person who’d been running their mouths in the streets? 

and right in the middle of his explanation, an alarm went off on yeosang’s phone; it was a message. the others kept talking, figuring yeosang could handle whatever message he’d received. 

it was when he promptly stood up that all attention had been placed on him. 

“it’s him! it’s dongwoo!”

a soft whimper sounded as y/n was thrown to the ground, hands bound and eyes blinded by some piece of cloth.

“boss,” y/n’s kidnapper spoke in a submissive wave, causing y/n to assume the guy had straightened his spine and was saluting him in some way.

a moment later, a gruff voice broke through the eerie silence in the room, “and who is this?” his voice wasn’t angered or bewildered at all, and that’s what scared y/n. he sounded intrigued; like even he wasn’t expecting to be a part of this situation.

“someone with connections to ateez— saw that bodyguard walking around with him.” 

the other man hummed, “the bodyguard didn’t follow you, did he?”

“no, no. i found them by the pharmacy; i know the area pretty well because i do the runs for sowon— i knew the camera blindspots!” his abductor seemed to be a bit on the simpler side when it came to this “boss” of his, y/n concluded. this was a completely different personality than when he was being abducted at the scene…

“good job. and you know what, changsik-ah,” his voice seemed to be getting more intrigued, y/n’s heart beating even faster in response, “since you bought in such a valuable hostage, i’ll let you have the honors of obtaining information from him.”

y/n felt the air beside him shift, changsik bowing a full 90 degrees at his boss’s blessing, “thank you!”

a sickeningly hearty laugh resonated and the creaking of a chair sounded before the boss’s next words seemed to be the final straw for y/n’s pounding heart.

“i want him alive.” 

“he better be alive,” san growled at jongho.

“we might get to him alive if you two would quit bickering. we’re wasting time because of you two, so shut it and sit down!” hongjoong had had enough of the two. he knew it was a sensitive time for san and jongho, different reasons for both, of course, but they would only get nowhere if they weren’t level-headed.

the two boys bowed their heads at their leader, san still sending a side-eyed glare at the younger before sitting down in his chair. 

it’d been two days since y/n was kidnapped and they still hadn’t been able to come up with a plan to get y/n back. 

wooyoung tried to trace where the text message came from within the first minute it was received, but surprise, surprise! it was a burner phone— so back to square one; checking all of the cctv footage in the area and trying to spot a suspect that wasn’t even visible from the first frame. 

the cameras in the pharmacy showed only y/n, the pharmacist, clerk, and four other customers. of those four, only one person never entered through the front door. and within those 48 hours, he’d managed to single out a vehicle that had arrived in the frame of one of the street cams showing the alleyway behind the pharmacy, and left the same way not even 5 minutes later. it was a suspicious vehicle too; white van, no windows in the back, and paper license plates. the paper plates hinted that they were most likely changed recently or are changed frequently.

and so after hours of having to witness his best friend be so uncharacteristically frantic and down, wooyoung, unfortunately, decided to do what he thought was smartest—save y/n himself to make his best friend happy again.

his intentions may have been well, but in stories like these, doesn’t something always go wrong?

“help me set the table guys,” seonghwa cleared his throat, hand on his hip as he stirred the soup on the stove. the steam from the boiling liquid sent another cloud to his tired face, a sheen of sweat and condensation forming.

“i really don’t understand why we are acting like we have the time to set a table and eat home cooked meals when we don’t!” san exasperated, pacing around the dining room. 

mingi gave a sympathetic smile, patting him on the back before going to help seonghwa. 

while mingi was more on the understanding side of san’s worries, jongho disagreed, “how exactly do you expect us to find him if we don’t take care of ourselves?”

“all i’m saying is food and sleep shouldn’t be this consistently on your minds when we’re all in this situation!”

jongho scoffed, finding the utmost absurdities in san’s words, “why are you acting like he’s so important? he doesn’t know anything about us or our weaknesses— for fuck’s sake, it’s not like we can’t just get another doc—”

a fist had flown toward jongho’s cheek, cutting off his words, before san’s thrashing body was being pulled back by mingi and yeosang.

“go to hell choi jongho!” san screamed, trying to force his way through the barrier the two had made with their bodies. the boy could feel his stitches tearing as he fought, but he didn’t care. jongho had been a bitch since the very first moment y/n was around, and for what reason?

“cut it out, san!” yeosang hollered, voice brute as he pushed against the boy.

“no, let me at him. he wants to keep being a little shit, i’ll show him shitty!”

“stop it! you haven’t even noticed, have you?”

san didn’t stop trying to break the barrier, focusing on getting to jongho and the other’s words, “notice what?”

“wooyoung’s missing,” yeosang began, san whipping his head toward him and trying to disagree, but yeosang was having none of it, “and you haven’t done anything but antagonize everyone here for not doing their jobs at your pace!”

“oh, excuse me for trying to be as quick as possible in finding him!”

“yeah, and who ever said quick was the efficient route to go? we’re dealing with people we know nothing about, but they seem to know a little too much about us, no? so stop getting on everyone’s asses and—”

“shut the hell up! please!” seonghwa had slammed his hands down on the table, screaming at the top of his lungs. every person in the room had immediately gone silent, words left on the tips of their tongues in a desperate attempt to fly about.

“you’re all going to shut it, sit down, and eat this meal like the civilized people we are and come up with a plan to get y/n back as safely as possible,” he gave a quick glare at everyone, blowing a puff of air at the lock of hair that had settled over his eyelids.

“am i clear?”

"yes, sir."

[weatheredlaw]

spotting employment scams during covid times

hello there! some of you may be job hunting right now, looking for remote work, work from home options, etc. as someone who’s been doing this, i wanted to let you know that you’re absolutely going to be coming across a lot of questionable postings, so here are some tips for spotting them: 

1. double check craigslist postings. i’ve come across several where i go back to confirm contact information and i find the post has been flagged for removal. often times, this means the job was bogus, and someone figured it out and went back and alerted the site.

2. if you get answers in your spam, read them carefully. i’ve gotten several responses back from people that have gone straight to my spam inbox. for me, this is pretty questionable. a company might indicate their information will go to your spam inbox, this could still be suspicious. just be cautious. 

3. if it sounds too good to be true, it probably is. i responded to a nicely worded work from home position and was told he would be paying me 1500 dollars every week. and while that sounds very very nice, it also is very unlikely. a legitimate employer will be paying you by the hour and will give you a set of hours you’ll be working. a lump sum of money is suspect, and likely being used to lure you in. 

4. look up their names/contact info. i’ve gotten plenty of emails back that look and sound legitimate. they even have a photo of the person on the bottom. look that info up. if they have a phone number, search for it. i’ve dialed *67 and called a few numbers and found they’re absolutely not real numbers, or they only receive text messages. do not text, always call. also if they say they work for a business, look them up with your local Better Business Bureau. i kept getting ads for an “Expert Collections Agent Wanted”. everything about the ad was weird, so i applied with one of my lesser used email and got a response in about a minute. the website didn’t go anywhere, and my local BBB had five unresolved complaints. 

5. no legit WFH/remote company will ask you to pay for a background check. this one is vital, because they can seem really legit all the way up to this point, and then they’ll ask you to pay for your own background check. do not do this. this is not something you should have to pay for. you don’t work for them, you should not be paying them anything.

6. please, please, please be on the lookout for MLM’s. flashy videos with young people talking about “the product” are trying to get YOU to buy the product and then hock it to your friends. and for the love of god, do NOT be tempted to join a known MLM. no one is buying essential oils, or make up, or protein powder, or lip gloss. they’re just not. 

7. if you don’t know what business you’re applying for, it’s probably not legit. a lot of ads don’t have the company name in them, or any real identifying features. they say things like “do you want to be a part of a growing company with an amazing work environment?” and things to that effect. you should be able to know what company you’ll be potentially working for, who your employer will be, and how much money you’ll potentially be making. 

remember, getting a job means giving them your address, social security number, and sometimes your routing number for direct deposit. i’m not trying to be alarmist or sound hyper-paranoid here, but there are people out there taking advantage of folks who are now out of work due to stay at home orders, and i want you all to be safe. again, i wish i had tips, ways you could find the legitimate employers, and best practices for job hunting in these times, but all i can do right now is pass on my experience and hopefully help you be able to weed out the fake postings that are currently flooding job postings right now. please be safe, i love you all. <3 

[yanderecandystore]

Hello, this is the first time I’ve come here and I’d like, if possible, you could place my order, I don’t remember if I already placed that ask or something, so if yes, sorry to bother you...

I can order something with Yandere! Vampire with a Vampire Slayer! Reader, please...

Welcome in!

Well yes boo, you did make a very similar request, and I'm sorry if it took me like a long time to answer you (at least to me it feels like a whole month has passed, time has been so slow and so fast somehow-) it's just that I'm dealing with a lot of stuff outside of Tumblr and although I try to not think about it, it does affect my performance in writing. Also you're not bothering me at all boo!

Also I just realized something, normally when I write I put really mean remarks about the reader but it's not supposed to be taken seriously by you guys, as it's mostly either an look into the perspective of the ocs (normally the bullies who are very mean and cruel-) or even an exaggeration on the reader's current mind state (if the reader feels dumb about a certain action they have chosen, I try to make them sound very exaggerated since I don't want any of you to take it personally, y'all are beautiful okay? Don't worry about the snarky comments and rude remarks that I may write).

I'll try to make it more obvious that it's mostly a character's exaggerated perspective next time, or maybe put trigger warnings about degrading language/mean comments.

TW/Tags: mentions of addiction (to blood) // male x male // male reader // vampy vamp // monster(vampire) x (human)reader // mentions of death // unofficial OC/just a random character I decided to create for this specific piece // captivity/kidnaping // mentions of torture/infliction of pain // mind control/gaslighting/manipulation and stockholm syndrome // being drugged/poisoned // kinda sadistic but not so much so cause I like giving y'all some softness.

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True love is found in small bites [Yandere!M!Vampire x M!Vampire Hunter!Reader - Headcanon]:

Who doesn't like a little one on one with an immortal creature in a fight filled with sexual tension? Who wouldn't want to prove their worth to their dad who is a lonely vampire hunter?

Your dad had hunted vampires all by himself for years now and he won't stop until the day he drops dead, or at least that's what he told you.

He taught you everything that you needed to know, and honestly- You probably know a lot more than some of the guys who are paid to do this every month, Hell, your dad hunts them basically every week! That's kinda the reason why he won't accompany you this time, too busy dealing with vampires in a neighboring village, some rumours of some high profiled vampires coming into your hometown… He was very concerned for your safety before deciding that whenever these rumours were true or not, he needed to check them for himself regardless.

You decided to go on a hunt on your own, hunt one down and prove to your man that you'll do just fine all by yourself.

However, you have the knowledge from the books you read and from what your father taught you, but you don't have personal experiences in fighting vampires. So that's why you're finally going to take down a vampire all by yourself.

It took you some time to find the right target, but after hearing complaints about some odd things happening in the less wealthy part of town, you thought you had a pretty clear picture of what happened. You thought that maybe some vampires have been attacking the poorest people in town to not cause a bigger panic in the population, and sadly enough, you were right.

Apparently the vampirism started to spread uncontrollably as the newly transformed vampires weren't accustomed with the new malevolent power. Some would get addicted to blood and to the power they hold against humans, and start to bite more than what they can chew on.

You found someone who was acting suspiciously, a commoner who was acting more aggressively towards his neighbors and family, he had created a lot of enemies in only a couple of days after being transformed, as he was now acting like "royalty" surrounded by peasants. The poor bastard was out of his mind, and sadly you needed to take care of him before he would hurt more people.

The work of a vampire slayer (or at least, one who works on their own accord) isn't as glamorous or "pleasant" as most may think, it involves you constantly questioning yourself and your morals, the guy you're hunting has a family but from what you heard and from what you have seen as you observed him from afar- He is clearly gone, consumed by the addiction of human blood, he would end up hurting his own family if you didn't intervene.

You had to stalk him for basically the whole day, collecting information and waiting for a good opportunity to strike him- Sadly enough, you didn't know that someone else was also interested in killing him.

It was pretty quick now that you think about it- You were about to tackle him when someone else got to do it before you. You didn't know about vampire society's inner relationships but you are aware that there is some form of hierarchy, and that those who were transformed into vampires were considered to be closer to the bottom than those who were born into it. The bottom of their social structure being those who they could all feed on, so in other words humans.

As you have already prepared yourself to attack the blood addictic, this guy who seemed to have come out of nowhere has already noticed that he wasn't alone, you wouldn't be able to hide yourself at this point and running wouldn't be an option considering how fast he moved.

The only option was left was to fight this vampire who was clearly way too powerful for your newbie ass. It was a pretty tough fight, and even if you have lost- You did manage to prove that you weren't just a random human who found themselves in the wrong place, in the wrong time.

You were very well prepared- Idris was pretty impressed by your resistance, but from his eyes, you were lacking a lot in the intelligence department. You were a good brawler, but not a decent vampire slayer by far- He would question you about your level of skill constantly, even mocking the idea of you being an "newbie" at this job.

Idris had won in the end, making you his prisoner who he would bring back to his clan to be used as an easy food source while also giving them info about other vampire slayers. Of course you wouldn't give them anything, no matter how bad your situation was you would still fight to the very end.

Idris had used one of his abilities to bring you two to his clan's hideout in a blink of an eye, you weren't expecting it to be so quick. You were tied up and inside an "abandoned" mansion filled with vampires, you were sure you wouldn't survive this at all- Yet you had promised yourself to not give them any information about other vampires slayers, especially your father.

You have met them, all of them- All of the Nox clan of pure vampires (or at least the last of them), in one single place. They were all so eager to jump in and start the "fun" with you. To torture you, drink from you, control your mind so you would spill all that you know, they tried to but you wouldn't stop squirming and fighting their touch- However, your attitude has only helped to aggravate them.

Idris was in charge of taking care of you- And by that they meant he was the one who would be screwing with you the most. He would keep you alive with your bare necessities but would also be the one to punish and torture you to speak up.

Interestingly enough, Idris wasn't interested in violently taking the truth out of you- Oh no, boo- He was much more sadistic than that.

He saw you as a plaything, like a cat he would see you as something he should toy with before devouring- He would try to push you to your limits verbally, trying to trigger some sort of wound you may have. You were stronger than he assumed, he should have known you weren't so dumb to give in to his insults and threats.

He would still bite you though, hey, a man needs some blood before continuing his private interrogation, right? It's not his fault you're both his snack and the one being interrogated.

You were strong minded, you weren't feeling too awful about being taken as a prisoner, since you felt as if deep down you could still escape this- So the effects of the poison that he would inject on you weren't showing up at first, but after sometime of being under this terrible living condition with only him to talk with, you started to feel some type of weird way around him.

It could be the poison finally taking over, but you have started to notice some… Particular choices that Idris took when interacting with you. Again- It could be all some magic shit in your mind, but you could swear that the lingering touches from him weren't rough or painful as his threats.

Idris was never physically harmful towards you, even to his peers dismay as they would constantly scold him for being too soft. He was indeed very off putting and sadistic- But could he be hiding something deep inside his literally cold exterior? You started to think so… Well, you started to hope so.

See, although the poison is already making your mind dizzy and making you feel some kind of weird attraction towards Iris- It wasn't completely just your mind playing tricks on you, Idris has been trying a new tactic with you and it was working.

Maybe you haven't noticed yet, but for the last few weeks he has started to flirt with you more, touch you more and whisper less concerning things into your ears, and you were eating it all up due to your isolation and his poisonous bite.

The more he sucked your blood, the more enamoured you were with his softer "side", the poison becoming stronger with each bite. But everyday you two spend time together, Idris can't help but feel just as interested in you as you are to him. He may play it off as a sadistic manipulative (which he kinda is-) vampire who is above you and his own feelings- But whenever it's just you and him, he just feels like there is a bigger connection being formed.

The more you two get to know each other the more he'll start falling for you, to the point he doesn't know if he is faking empathy and care or if he actually likes you in a weird way. He has started to feel very satisfied whenever you start acting clingy, desperate even for his attention (again- He is the only one willing to even talk with you before biting you and sucking your blood), the sensation of power he feels is a little bit overwhelming- But very much appreciated.

You have started to feel some side effects from losing so much blood everyday, which has made Idris concerned and incapable of drinking from you for at least some time while you recover from it. But since you need some time to rest without being injected with more venom from fangs, which will cause you to start waking up from your brainwashed state and remember that A: It has been months since you were gone, your dad is out there looking for you and it's possibly thinking you're dead; B: You're trapped in a mansion filled with the last vampires of a powerful clan which has been massacred by vampire slayers like you; and C: You were starting to catch feelings for the one who brought you here- Regardless of manipulation and freaky vampire shit- You were indeed falling for his charm.

Whenever that happens, it will be obvious that you'll start trying to fight them and escape again, even if you're very, very weak from all these months without proper training and healthy eating habits.

You may try your hardest dear, but you'll need a better plan than just going feral on Idris. He is a lot stronger than you, especially since you can't even stand up on your own, and even hurting him makes you feel oddly awful- You had relied on him for so long, that it feels like you would be betraying him if you actually do hurt him, it seems like some of the effects of so much time under his manipulation are still present.

You can't hurt him, but you can still try to sneak out. You should still try to escape!

You would eventually come up with a plan to run away while it was still morning, even if it was a very flawed plan considering that the only place you knew in this entire mansion was Idris's room and bathroom. For some miracle reason, you would find a way to sneak out, it was pretty hard considering you have no strength in your legs, yet luckily no one seemed to be aware of your sudden movement around the corridors- Apparently the whole clan is composed of heavy sleepers.

Your escape was successful, but you wouldn't be able to reach safety anytime soon in your condition- And you knew that eventually they would wake up again and Idris would find you soon. Yet as you had promised yourself and your father, you weren't going down without a fight.

Idris is responsible for you, so whenever he notices that you were gone- He would first assume one of his kind has took you, but considering how everyone else in the clan considers him to be a nuisance and incompetent, he couldn't possibly ask around where were you. If he did, they would end up yelling at him and take you as their personal blood bag- He couldn't let them know that you have escaped.

He would search for you and be honest to god thankful that you weren't dead yet- He would be pissed but more concerned about your current state, after all you were supposed to be resting from losing so much blood and yet here you are: Trying to survive the wild nature around the mansion in a stupid attempt of escaping the vampires.

Idris would have to bite you more often while also giving some days off so you could rest, but doing in a way that you never lose the effects of the poison- He can't stand to see you fighting him so much.

I mean- He thinks that it's pretty attractive how fiesty you are, but he needs you to stay still in his bedroom and to start giving him those confused yet passionate eyes again- Idris doesn't know whether or not you're in love with him or is just acting in instinct considering your current position, and he soon will find himself begging for you to truly give in to this weird fantasy he has built around you two- But for now, all that he wants is the smallest affection that may come from you, even if it's not as true and morally correct as true love is supposed to be.

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