#like one of those rotating pigs

[maozne18]

Butterbot 🧈🦋🦋🦋🤖🤖🤖🤖😁😊😍🥰🤩😛😛😛😝🤪

Im gonna cook you for barbecue

[soupinaboot]

Fuck it. Every Steve Harrington headcannon I have because I've been rotating that boy in my head like a pig on a stick Part 2 this is a little more in depth than the first one but only by a smug

- Epileptic, either since he was young or developed it over time due to all those concussions he keeps getting

- Favorite fruit is blackberries I have no reason

- Kinda sad but he never really had friends, yeah he hung out with Tommy and Carol but that was about it. Like after the fall out with them he was by himself, alone. I feel like if he was as popular as we think he is, he would have at least one other friend right?

- Does not have a filter at all. That one scene where he just casually says, "Oh yeah my parents are out of town because my mom doesn't trust him to not cheat on her any who!" and I feel like he just kinda does that

- Star Trek fan but he just does not comprehend that it's supposed to be nerdy (this is not my own I saw someone else headcannon this please tell me if you find them I can not)

- Absolutely sucked at ELA, could be cause of dyslexia or not whatever you want buttercup

- But on the topic of dyslexia, this headcannon is one of the main reasons why I love math nerd Stevie so much. Like, ELA test and History test are mostly long paragraphs that he needs more time to read through and his teachers don't care enough to give him extra time like he needs. But math tests tend to have a small paragraph that he can read faster or just focus on the numbers and finish on time, so he just got really good at math so he would have at least one class he passed

- Survives off of coffee, lord knows he needs it

- My most random headcannon is that since his parents were never really around or cared much for his safety, he used to hang out outside a lot and explore the wildlife around, got really into nature and animals, bought nature books etc. But his dad told him nature and animals were girly and forced him to stop even though he really loved it

- If he does ever go to college (which he doesn't have to, though if Robin went he would probably go with her), he would either get in education major and become a math teacher or some form of environmental degree

- His love language is quality time

- Among the three of them, Steve and Carol were the closest. Yes, Steve and Tommy met first, and yes they tend to call each other their best friends, but in actuality Carol and Steve were best friends. They have mean girl energy.

- He used to also play hockey when he was younger but stopped playing due to scheduling and shit. But he really liked it cause whenever he would practice there were these older figure skaters who would teach him figure skating (he kinda liked it more than hockey but he never told anyone)

- Speaking of scheduling, he is always tired due to his packed schedule. Since he was young, his dad forced him into a lot of sports and didn't really give him a break. Add that to his piano lessons, his jobs, studying that his dad forced him to do, friends, etc... he is just perpetually tired. And it fucked up his sleep schedule developing into insomnia as he got older

- Most of his and Eddie's dates are just them taking naps

- Once he meets Corroded Coffin they all become best friends. Like best fucking friends

- Specifically Steve and Jeff

[seat-safety-switch]

Once in awhile, you can get one over on The Man. Finally, after all these years of toiling under his rule, doing his dirty work, begging for his praise, he has well and truly fucked up. And, it turns out, your entire life has been building up to the moment that you can milk him for all he's worth.

Have you ever seen a Dodge Caliber? They're getting sort of uncommon now, but when they were new, they were pretty hateful cars. Cheap, buzzy, surprisingly uneconomical, steering that felt like telling a funeral home operator how to sign a birthday card over the phone by long distance. And they fell apart all the time. Most cars get repaired, but these things got gleefully shovelled into the junkyard at the first chance the owners got.

Not all of them, though. This is a story about one very special Dodge Caliber. You see, my aunt needed a car. And my aunt is very nervous about owning a car. The skills of shitbox repair never made it into her genes, you see, possibly because she is not related to me by blood. So, in order to get that car, she went to the Dodge dealership, and she asked them: can you do a lifetime warranty, unlimited mileage, no questions asked, cover everything? And they said: for you, ma'am, we absolutely can charge you an obscene, eye-watering amount of money.

Once I found out about this, I was mad. And then I figured it out. You see, what my aunt did have was being insanely cheap. That's why she was a part of my degenerate family. She still is, even though my Uncle Larry exploded that one night at Arecibo. Unlimited mileage. There has never been a sweeter phrase uttered in the English language.

Now, whenever anyone we know needs to go for a long trip, we tell them: take the Caliber. Rack those miles up. Punish those stupid motherfuckers for writing such a terrible, open-ended contract. My aunt runs a taxi service consisting entirely of this vehicle, a fleet of drivers constantly rotating in and out, the thing rolling virtually 24/7. I love driving this car, because every single mile that ticks up on the odometer is more salty tears from the low-wattage pig who thought he was a big-time wheeler and dealer down at Old Time Country Dodge.

To their credit, they figured out the enormous error that they had made fairly quickly. When Aunt Hilda rolled in the thing, smoking and wheezing, for its sixth transmission replacement at eight-hundred-and-fifty-thousand kilometers, they offered to buy it from her and give her a brand new luxury SUV, just for being such a great customer. She laughed, and told them to get started overhauling the Caliber, and don't forget to take a look at the squeaking sound it started making in the back.

When things got real bad during the recession, they tried to go bankrupt, thinking that might get them out from having to maintain this economy car until the sun burns out. Ha! Death won't save you, my friend. My attorney Max picked that one up pro bono, despite hating warranty law, just for the pleasure of watching their attorney read the purchase contract. Her eyes got so big that they stuck that way. The paramedics had to use the jaws of life on her eyelids so she could blink again.

If you see me in the Caliber, make sure to honk. I probably won't stop to say hi, because we gotta keep this odometer rollin'. Rest assured, however, that I will honk back, maybe ten or fifteen times. Really get my money's worth out of that horn.

[yokakaiju]

i got bored and made a tierlist based off who smokes the most weed

justifications under cut

so like i made this cause its funny first and foremost, but i did put like somewhat actual thought into this. not much, but synapses were firing in my brain putting this together

also im not tagging everyone, ill just like pick 2 or whatevs

okay so first up is chidaruma. dude prolly invented weed ngl. you know he's smoked everyway imaginable: blunt, pipe, bong, can, apple, vape, synthesized, edible, hotbox, blower; you name it, he's done it. he's kinda over it, but he's still up there just cause like... idk he is and won't take criticism

haru is a beautiful weed smoking gf thats literally it

13's entire schedule is probably wake up, smoke, jerk off, sleep, eat, smoke, jerk off, eat, smoke, repeat. he also would probably kin jesse pinkman

ton is a bitch and smokes all the cross-eye commanders weed. like they'll save up for MONTHS to get like 5oz (one for each of them :3) and he'll be like, "woah! a bag of weed!" and smoke it ALLLLLL in like an hour. he's like a truffle pig for weed, they can try to hide it but his ass always finds it and smokes it all. he would prolly also call it za or skunk or some shit like that

ebisu isn't quite in the high 24/7 catagory, but she could be. dawg loves weed, like she is also 100% a fucking master at rolling blunts she rivals chidaruma at it. rolling blunts is like a sport for her tbh

aikawa's gotta cope dawg. like if he aint at school or currently being possed by demons his ass is smokin that shit bruh he needs a minute to chill. also he's got crazy money (kai's money but shhh) so he might as well spend it on his pookie <3 (risu)

noi may be controversial being up so high, but hear me out. weed smoking gf? i think yes B) mogs at you

asuka also has to cope, but its cause shes a blackpilled femcel (her own words i stg)

chota would smoke, but he hates the smell and doesn't want it to ruin his clothes and shit. he prolly wears like silk gowns and dances around to madonna while trippin off like 10g. he's livin the life tbh

OKAY HEAR ME OUT HEAR ME OUT HEAR ME OUT johnston. fucking johnston is only i repeat ONLY UP HERE‼️ because kasukabe gives him those little non thc thc pills people give to dogs with anxiety and agression issues to keep him calm

poor dokuga cant share with his besties so he's been condemed to eating edibles alone... also smoking/inhaling smoke makes him drool a bit so like a bit deadly for everyone around him to even try. i like, debated on putting him in never, but tetsujo prolly cooks smth up for him so he doesn't feel left out <3

natsuki is only at the top of sometimes because she probably would more if she had money. also she sucks in a blunt rotation cause her ass ALWAYS WITHOUT FAIL tries to hold it in and always coughs like a mfer and taps out after like one hit

vaux just makes sense. he looks like an average 30-40smth nu metal oldhead, theres no way he DOESNT smoke at least a little. id put him in 100% but he's also a fairly responsible doctor so liek idk

kasukabe doesnt as much anymore, mostly only when he's with haru, but he still does sometimes for funsies cause he's just chiil like that :3

tetsujo doesn't thattt much cause it fucks with his already dog shit depth perception super bad, but sometimes if ton or the others dont find it he shares it with dokuga and they like yuri pose and eat edibles together or smth idk

ik kaiman is gonna be controversial being so low, but listen. 1) his ass is too focused on socerers and shit to care 2) he's dirt poor. he simply cannot afford it 3) how tf is he gonna smoke with no lips? that blunt would just get chewed to shit. like genuinely he would maybe get one singular edible if nikaido or vaux were feeling nice, but other than that its like, idk almost never for him

i would but shin in never, but ik noi is like "boss!!!! come take hits off this bong with me!! its gonna be so sick omg you HAVE to come smoke with me RN!!!!" and he'd be like "sighhhhhh... anything for my weed smoking gf ig..."

ushishimada is only so low cause i feel like he's too mothery to smoke a lot? like, he's too responsible, but not responsible enough to outright say no. also they're poor asf and ton always smokes it all

fukuyama would get his ass kicked by tanba if he found out, but ik dawgs gotta take a load off sometimes tbh

now again, controversial take but i have reasons. risu is so fucking poor. like, genuinely he is too worried about his tuition, bills, and groceries to give af about it (also cause aikawa is a bitch and makes him pay for everything cause "i forgot my wallet oopsie :3c"). now aikawa does supply him tho and he hooks him up with the primo shit ong. so at least when he does smoke he smokes that good shit (also they yuri pose as well while they smoke)

again, saji is too mommy to smoke that much weed (also another case of being too poor). bro doesn't want his clothes and needlework to smell like shit, which i respect

ai 100% would if his ass wasnt so busy with his damn self expiramentation bs. like, he wants to smoke so bad tbh, but he's like "sigh i gotta work on my plans to rebuild my body from the ground up.. maybe tomorrow" stares longingly out the window imagining how cool smoking weed is

again, kai's over here fuckin "i have to go to work" like he genuinely just doesn't care or have time. he's never even thought about it tbh, like you're tellin me this mfer has had a single thought outside of total domination in his entire existance??? HELL NAH HIS ASS DOES NOT THINK HE HAS ZERO THOUGHTS IN HIS HEAD I STG

now this may also be controversial. why isn't by beautiful coquette cottagecore angelcore babe out there rolling and smoking the fattest blunts known to man? turkey just like doesnt feel it. its not for her tbh. she tried smoking, she tried edibles. she just wasnt a fan tbh. like, she'll cook up some of the tastiest edibles you've ever had if you ask, but she just aint a fan

kirion also just doesn't feel it tbh. again, its not for her and thats alright

wow surprise surprise another controversial take. like, before you get mad just think abt it for a sec. like, she's so fucking business first and always has been that i think she would just see it as a major hinderance on her job performance, as well as the performance of her employees later down the line. now im not saying she's a narc or hardass about it, im saying she just doesn't feel it. the high she gets from people enjoying her food and making money is enough for her tbh. also she does do edibles sometimes, but mostly like when it rains in hole to make it a little less miserable and painful

en is about the same. like, he def has. he's just like, idk. he doesnt wanna. its not for him anymore. he doesn't care if anyone in the family does it, but they better not sacrifice the quality of their work for it. like if he catches you high on the job its prolly like some sort of repremanding, but off the clock he dont gaf

genuinely copy paste nikaidos shit for tanba. he's too worried about his business to even consider smoking weed

now... kawajiri is a fucking narc and a half. his ass would be like "erm ☝️🤓 well actually" and then give a big long speech about how weed is bad blah blah blah whatever no one cares dawg stop fuckin yappin. but like, he's just pissed cause no one will smoke with him or share their weed with him cause he's such a hardass

fujita is kinda weed smoking gf coded, but like ik his ass would be like "EN! EN! I SAW EBISU SMOKING A BLUNT THE SIZE OF HER OWN FOREARM AND TRYING TO SHARE IT WITH KIKURAGE!!! YOU NEED TO STOP HER RN!!!!" but hes only like this cause when he was in a blunt roation with shin, noi, and ebisu they all told him holding it in made you higher, but he ended up puking and they all laughed at him and made fun of him for it because hes a fucking idiot. so now he's an evil little narc who squeals to en when he even catches a whiff of a skunk like scent

curse is a bitch and ik his ass is like "RAAAHHHH‼️ I GOTTA GO KILL THE CROSS-EYES BOSS RAHHH‼️ I NEED TO SEEK REVENEGE FOR MY MURDER RAHHHHHH‼️" like dawg chill tf out be so real rn. he's too focused on revenge and shit to smoke and like, i think if he did smoke and kai also smoked they'd have beautiful hot sexy yaoi, thats just me tho

oh my god shou is such a bitch about it. like sure kawajiri gives lectures about the "scary true reality of weed" and fujita is a narc, but this guy. oh my god this mfer. THIS IS THE REAL REASON EVERYONE FORGOT ABOUT HIM ITS CAUSE THEY KNOW HIS ASS IS GONNA WHINE AND BITCH AND MAKE YOU GO TO LIKE AA OR NA OR WHATEVER FOR IT!!!! HE'LL START CALLIN YOI AND ADDICT AND SAYIN ITS A GATEWAY AND SHIT AND HOW THE DEVILS WILL IMMEDIATLY DRAG YOI TO HELL AND TORTURE YOU FOREVER IF YOU EVEN THINK ABOUT IT OH MY BALLS

kikurage is literally just a dog dawg. her ass dont even know what weed is

store crow mauler is like... idk man. idk how it would smoke weed or if it even knows or cares what weed is. whatever, its kinds like a pet so whatevs

[catyo90]

hey! 😊 i noticed that you also write for ‘the dare.’ wooow, ever since i watched that movie, i’ve had a huge crush on dominic. i’d love to know if you write romantic headcanons for the character. maybe in a scenario where you both met and started dating after a certain period?

i’m not sure if this will make sense to you, but i don’t speak english, so forgive any mistakes.

after all, i loved your profile ♡

The Fic for Dom was actually the first, but...why not. ;)

Head-Canons/ Small Fic: Start of a Relationship

-You both met at the campsite, he wasn't wearing his mask. He was wearing his normal clothes but kept his distance. He would claim to be there to enjoy the campsite with friends but he seemed sad when he spoke.

-His blue eyes caught your attention as he nervously asked to sit with you, at first you were nervous, after all a strange man in the woods by himself. You were smart enough to a least be generally kind to him.

-You couldn't help though but to admire his physique, he was so tall and built that you guessed he was farmer or woodsman. You then noticed blood on his shirt and got a bit more nervous but he explained that he raised and stocked up pigs for meat that he sold.

-After a few moments of silence you asked if he was hungry at all and offered to make a smore for him. He looked confused for a moment.

"Have you never had one?"

"My father didn't let me eat sweets."

"Oh, well, I promise you will love it. And it will warm you up."

He took the smore from your hand and bit into it, the melted chocolate and marshmallow made his mouth tingle. He smiled at you thanking you with a nod. You noticed his lips had some chocolate stain.

"You got a little on you..." You brought a gentle hand to his lip and wiped away the stain and licked it off your thumb. You laughed a little at his face looking surprised.

-After a few hours of talking with Dom (At least you talked he was still distant and wouldn't give any personal other than his name.) You realized your so called friends were not going to show up, it hadn't been the first time they did this, you thought they could have at least called to let you know or something. You sighed as Dom added another log to the fire, the cold air made you shiver.

"I suppose I should leave, its getting late."

You stood up grabbing your bag and looked down at Dom.

"Thanks for staying with me."

"Wait!" Dom said standing up he looked a little afraid and ran a hand through his hair trying to stay calm.

"You...do you want to meet up again?" He said trying to keep his cool but he could feel his inner evil coming out a little, he liked you, he didn't want to lose you. another possible friend.

You smiled and moved your hair behind your ear, you wouldn't usually meet with a stranger again but he seemed nice enough, and you didn't have anything going on.

'Alright. I'll see you tomorrow"

-Dom smiled to himself as he returned to his home after you left in your car, when he got home he stepped into the hidden room where he overlooked his book of friends, he started to draw a crude drawing of you in the book, the sudden screams of those he took below, he sighed as he slammed his hands on the table and walked down the stairs and violently opened the door, three people tied to the corners of the room, one of them trying to hide their phone that he managed to see and grab from them, a familiar face of you and the three.

He huffed and groaned as he threw the phone at the wall before turning of the lights and slamming the door closed as your so called friends screamed.

-The next day you actually arrived a little late due to the weather but you saw him sitting on the log with some meat cooking on a stake that he was rotating, you smiled and waved at him as you brought some hot chocolate with you.

-He noticed you were a bit saddened, you heard nothing from your friends the night before and were a bit worried, but they had done this to you before and in truth you were wondering why you stayed with them, maybe just to not feel lonely. You sighed and brought your attention back to Dom.

"You need better friends."

"You might be right. Guess you'll do." you said with a smirk taking a bite of meat offering him a sip of the hot beverage. The next few hours were nice but still a bit awkward. You smiled to yourself as you actually felt safe with Dom, physically and mentally. The looks he gave you would make you feel warm and the way he felt more comfortable with you made him, for once in his messed up life, he felt peaceful.

Every few days were like this, he would meet you with a smile on his face and you even offered to meet him in town, but he didn't seem too comfortable with leaving. Almost like he had to stay nearby, he gave you some insight on his past, saying how his father was mentally insane and how when he died he was finally able to live his life. You felt sorry for him knowing that he probably never got the proper childhood everyone deserved.

You noticed his arm was bleeding one day but he didn't seem to mind, you were worried but if he seemed to be okay who were you to argue. He was a bit surprised what you asked next.

"Would you like to see where I live."

"Um...I really shouldn't leave."

"It's just up the road from here. Dom, it would be good for you to get away for a little bit. I promise it won't be long."

Dom didn't say anything for a long while but he eventually agreed and walked with you to the car, on the ride there it started to rain heavily making you wonder if he was just worried for his pigs. But he was now fully focused on you. Like whatever was back home didn't matter. Once you got to your home you hurried inside with him following close behind, both of you were soaked. You sighed as you grabbed a towel from the next room and placed it over his head drying off his hair.

'Sorry, I didn't think it would rain so badly."

You moved the towel away from his face and gently wiped off the water around his neck and chest, you paused for a moment when he looked at you bringing a hand to your hair moving the wet strands away from your face. You felt one of his strong arms wrap around you, you felt nervous and uneasy but you didn't move away, you glanced at his lips for a moment as he took the towel away from your hand and threw it to the ground as he gripped onto you tightly. What ever control he had, he could feel it slowly moving away. The evil he saw in his friends and yours, he saw none of that in you.

He wanted you, he wanted you to never leave. He kept his hands on your upper body holding you closer to his body, you wrapped you arms behind him clinging to his flannel shirt slowly taking it off his shoulders feeling his whole body flex from your touch. You felt him slowly walk you backwards toward the couch and caught both of you from falling as his lips met yours. You heard a small growl come from him as he clung to you, as if you were a dream that could fade away.

He pulled himself away for a moment giving you a chance to catch your breath. His eyes are as bright as they always are. He seemed to have excitement in his eyes. Like a child. Your hand moves up from his chest to his face, where you caress him. The sentiment temporarily freezes him in place. Your touch is kind. It’s soft. Every time you touch him he has to remind himself that you are not a threat. Not like his friends.

He knew he couldn't go an further, he wouldn't lay with you under false pretentions. But that didn't stop him from kissing you all night until you both feel asleep in each others arms.

-

You were laying against his chest on the couch. Your back faced him and his arm was wrapped around your waist. His hand was intertwined with your own as he absentmindedly rubbed his thumb over your skin. It’s was enough to make your heart flutter.

He suddenly snatched your wrist, gripping onto you firmly. It makes you gasp. Did you do something wrong? Innocently, you trust that he wasn’t going to hurt you farther than that. you remembered how his father berated him and abused him, If he was asserting a boundary, then that’s good. But you wondered, would he hurt you?

There’s no movement for a while. It’s just him and you laying together, the tenseness in the air quickly dissipates. You go to lean against his strong forearm before he uses his other hand to tilt your chin upward to face him. A pair of lips meet your own. You slowly turn, placing a free hand on his chest. So many things cross your mind.

When you reach in to kiss him, you pause just before his lips. He’s the one that closes the distance. Tingles prickle in his stomach, making him feel sick happiness. The kiss is a lot more intimate than he thought. It makes his heartbeat increase and blood rush to his cheeks. It’s real. And it’s with you

"I suppose this means we are dating now?" you asked half joking but also half serious.

He said nothing only holding you closer feeling sobs coming from him as you gently held him back.

"I'm sorry."

"Dom...its okay. This was just nice. I didn't..."

"No. I want this. I want you."

-Since that night he wants to kiss you all the time, no matter what time of day or what you are doing. He craves attention and companionship, But he still seems distant, especially when missing people reports start to show up and he knows he can't get you involved

-So he decides to stay with you for awhile, at least until the heat dies down. But when the cops start asking you questions, he starts staying at home missing your touch everyday, even so he has to satisfy himself constantly. One day though he sees you at the camp once more, you wanted to know why he wasn't seeing you anymore why would he discard you in such a way. But your thoughts are interrupted when you hear a snap behind you, you turn and see nothing for a moment but suddenly you felt a hand over your mouth, you struggled against them but to no avail, your vision became dark. The last thing you felt was the person carrying you and the sound of Dom's voice.

"Stay."

-

PT.2? Let me know.

[cerastes]

Top five wombs in Arknights??

5. Surtr

Surtr's womb is the perfect tutorial mode to get your feet (and various other limbs and apendages) wet. You'd normally think that one as feisty as Surtr would pose you great duress, but that couldn't be further from the truth. Her womb is in fact much like Jungle Hijinx, the first level of Donkey Kong Country: Smooth, simple, and holds your hand throughout, hoping you learn the tools of the trade so you can challenge bigger, meaner wombs. Surtr's lack of lore makes the whole trip, honestly, very simple and appealing to the novice, since you don't have to think about it too much and can experiment plenty, as long as you don't mind not receiving much of a challenge of your abilities in return. I rate Surtr's Training Mode out of ten. The only problem with Surtr is that sometimes her memories get scrambled, and she calls you names that aren't yours, and then she starts wondering why she's called out that name in particular, but then it goes nowhere because Hypergryph hasn't given her lore. It's just kinda awkward.

4. Ch'en

Now here's where the real Ark Knights: The Knights of Tomorrow really begins. Steel yourself to face some truly unsightly catacombs, as Ch'en's womb is much like a Floridan suburban garage sale: Dirty, cheap and colossal. However, hidden beneath those suitably hoggish beef curtains lies an obstacle course of ecstasy, sizzling with lore and development to truly give any cylinder out there a cavern that is as challenging to please as it is to fill. It is a relatively safe environment, but one that will demand you know your rotation, since the DPS check is rather steep, so be sure to meld properly.

3. Ptilopsis

Now here's where real Clitoris Centurions and Ballsack Berserkers congregate to test their vim and vigor to the utmost limits, journeymen need not apply! Access to this sacrosanct marriage of flesh and technology is restricted only to top Doctors with many an expedition into the moist depths of carnal communion, with various victories in the damp, soggy sauna of star-struck sensation, with a black belt in hand-to-gland combat. If you wish to mash pissers with Ptilopsis, you must prepare accordingly, as a myriad of challenges lies between your weasel and her nest.

(Pictured above: A valiant Doctor perishes trying to reach Ptilopsis' Sector G)

If you have confidence in your muscles, the desire to test your brawn and brain to the ultimate limit, and won't get turned off from doing the horizontal mambo with a woman named Joyce, then Ptilopsis' womb is a place you cannot skip.

2. Skadi

You completed your training in the Sarkaz Stretch.

You navigated your way through the Pig Park.

You even managed to avoid an Owl Obituary. Respect!

But nothing, not even these accolades, can prepare you for the Abyssal Armageddon.

Be fooled not, valiant swashbuckler, for behind those gentle eyes and that gentle disposition lies the musculature that decimated a living god. What makes you think you can challenge it?

But, at the same time... Did not Mankind look upon the Everest and proclaim climbing it naught but a hobby? The heart of Mankind is with you. Love guides your meat, and justice gives it strength. For all of humankind's sake, you must reach the depths of this crevasse, and inscribe upon it your kin's redemption with letters of fire.

A test of pure, raw resilience where the very fiber of your being will be tested to the utmost limit: In but one quiver of pleasure, you might simply be crushed. A test of pure fundamentals, a battlefield that is a creepy as it is wet, a hunting ground for the unsuited, and the grave of the unsung.

Dare you milk the tightfisted brass with one who bested a God?

(HINT: The Tiger Drop, which negates all damage, may well be your only recourse. I hope your timing is impeccable, as a frame lost is a life lost. Yours.)

1. ?????????

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

[bedazzlecunt]

I'd love to hear more of your college stories. Kinkiest experience?

I have so many asks about college sjkfhgldfsfgd i've opened the floodgates here

i dunno how we're qualifying kinkiness here but i feel like in terms of like...Extended Kink Periods i hve a fun one. one of my partners my sophomore year i think was a senior who was sort of...coming into his dommness and very much using me as his guinea pig (which was great, as i was coming into my subness and using him as MY guinea pig) and we did a lot of 'this sounds fun in theory, let's try it in practice together' sorts of things. anyway once i stayed at his place for the weekend (from friday after class til monday morning) and if we weren't sleeping or eating i was tied up, legs spread and cunt available the whole time. the basic idea was like...we wanted to play around with the idea of me being constantly accessible?

anyway i spent the whole (non-eating/sleeping/etc) time tied up and blindfolded, and for most of it i had a vibrating dildo in (there were a few that we had to rotate thru, because those fuckers have limited battery lives lmao) that he'd take out whenever he wanted to masturbate with my cunt. i wasn't gagged so that i could communicate easily in case i got tired or etc, but we did both agree that i was to keep talking to a minimum. after all, i'm just a sex toy, and fleshlights don't speak.

it was a weird experience but i really enjoyed it! my sense of time was lightly fucked with; it was hard to know how time was passing without a reliable way to measure it, since he could fuck me four times in an hour and then leave me alone entirely for two. and it was unbearably hot to be aware of the fact that he was just going about his day and i was just like...a piece of furniture he could use when he wanted. the fact that i was constantly both tied up and experiencing stimulation was really fun, and it's the most vivid mental example i have of being so horny and edged that i was genuinely hazy and stupid as hell

we both very much went into it expecting that we'd maybe get bored a few hours in but didn't! it was a lot of fun when we'd take breaks to eat or sleep or because i had to use the restroom and we'd sort of giggle and laugh about how objectively silly this was now that we weren't, like, In It.

[mod-kyoko]

You guys do Danganronpa 3? Would some Fluff on a poly relationship, with Ruruka and Seiko charing a boyfriend, be okay?

ruruka ando x m!reader x seiko kimura

fandom: danganronpa

info: hc format, male!reader, poly relationship, fluff

a/n: i like writing poly relationships i just don't get those requests that often. also i love danganronpa 3!

♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧

seiko and ruruka enemies to lovers

meanwhile you're in the middle

seiko and ruruka were good friends throughout their childhood, only to fall out during high school

when they both met you, though, you were able to reunite them and they put the past aside, realizing their feelings for each other

they both appreciated you for that so much, and the three of you inevitably fell in love

dating ruruka and seiko, you're pretty much always sandwiched between them

movie nights are a frequent date, with you sitting on the couch and the two girls on either side of you, each holding onto your arm

the three of you rotate the food and snacks responsibility

you can never wait for your turn to make the popcorn and fetch the candy, because while you're gone you always peak at the two girls, to watch them cuddle each other

it makes you happy seeing them get on well, like two giddy teenagers

sometimes you sneak away just to watch how they talk with each other, they get so excited

also because sometimes they just need to be girls together yknow

play fights are also a thing you do

it always ends in the three of you tangled together, laughing

okay so the most affectionate one in the group is probably ruruka

she naturally leads

always pinching yours and seiko's cheeks

i can't believe i haven't mentioned this yet but ruruka is ALWAYS baking and you and seiko love her for it

your house always smells like fresh something, whether it's cookies or bread or cake

and she's always shoving food in your mouth

as for seiko, well

as you can imagine, she's always asking you to be her guinea pigs

don't even worry about anyone in your household getting sick, because she fills each of you up with vitamins anyway

even if you do get sick with all the prevention , you bet your ass seiko will be by your side the entire time doing her best to cure you

so we have ruruka as the household chef, and seiko as the household nurse

you often end up taking the other chores, since the girls provide so much for you

but everyone provides an equal amount for each other, and that's what makes the relationship work

each of you have your own unique qualities and talents

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this was fun i really like ruruka (seiko is okay too lol)

-mod kyoko

[asteroidtroglodyte]

[what am i]

Mutant

It is 2004. Is the Geiger Counter heavy because it’s Old Tech, or because it’s a Geiger Counter? I do not ask the question aloud. My father is talking. I rotate it in my hands, examining it. He is talking about his father. The Geiger counter is a relic of my grandfather’s military service. It is older than me. It is older than my school. It is older than my father. I turn it on. A red light glows. The dial fidgets. “Are we safe?” I ask aloud, as it softly, slowly ticks. “Are we ever?” My father answers. My look of horror is met with laughter.

It is 1999. There is a photo of a mushroom cloud rising out of a deep blue ocean. It sits inconspicuously in a wooden frame near my grandfathers chair. I stare at it. I have recently learned about atomic weapons in an abstract sort of way in school. My grandmother speaks. “Your grandfather took that picture.”

It is 2002. “These are some of my favorite books.” My father believes I am old enough for his old novels. The entire John Carter of Mars. Asimov, Bradbury, Clarke. Foundation & Empire. Edgar Rice Burroughs. Tarzan.

It is 1971. My father hunts wild pigs. Dogs he has raised from puppies explicitly for this purpose rustle through the jungle ahead of him. He is like the pigs, the descendants of Europeans on tour, left behind by boats bearing death. He is armed only with a large knife and his dogs. He survives.

It is 1955. My father plays with the Geiger counter that I will hold in my hands one day. It is humid and hot inside the Quonset hut. My father points it at my grandfather. The dial dances; the machine goes tickticktick. My grandmother is sleeping, or trying to; migraines take her out for days at a time, sharp pain and vivid halos exacerbated by the tropical sun. The noise wakes her, and my grandfather takes the Geiger counter away.

It is 2009. “Weird.” Not the sort of thing you want your doctor to say. “Has your heart always done that?” I ask him to explain what he means. “Oh, it’s just, it’s… beating… funny?” He indicates some squiggles on a monitor, as if I could see the patterns as he did. “Do you mind if we run some tests?” I would be a fool to decline.

It is 1977. My father watches the stars. The sea is still. He has turned off the lights on his boat, and the nearest artificial light is over the horizon. He eats fish he caught during the day. He comes to land to get the supplies he cannot catch; tools made of metal; rope, line, medicine. He spends seven years on that boat, going from island to island. He survives.

It is 2019. My father puts dilute hydrogen peroxide in his water bottle. We dress and depart. He hike through the craggy desert highlands, rich browns and ambers of the desert varnish broken by the occasional brilliance of a tarantula hawk. The local wildlife is smart enough to seek shelter at this time of day, but we are Sons of Empire and ignore the sun, like Adam turning his back on God. We traipse over broken boulders, fighting gravity for a scenic view. He tells me about the past between breaths; this mountain was sacred, once. Those who sanctified it are dead now. The way he talks, you would think that he killed them himself. The breeze is hot and dry on the ridge top. Looking down on the valley below, he drinks deeply from the bottle. He offers me some. “Extra oxygen” he says, with the air of someone sharing valuable advice. Tentatively, I take a sip: It is slippery, and burns slightly. My 70 year old father climbs back down from the mountains with me. We pretend the desert sun does not exist.

It is 1946. The War is Over. The Good Guys have won; or so the story goes. My grandmother is newly married, and loves her husband very much. Once, she had been a daydreaming farm girl, a fan of the Wizard of Oz books; She feels like Dorothy, transported, when her husband’s work whisks them away from rural California to The Pacific. They’re working on something big, he says, but loose lips sink ships and he says nothing else.

It is 1949. The migraines are paralyzing. The doctor tells her she is pregnant, and her mind fades to static. This is the 5th time she has been told this in her life, but she has yet to give birth to a single living child. The Geiger counter ticktickticks whenever her husband is near.

It is 1950. My father is born.

Mutant

Survivor

Son of Empire

Human

[littlegodzilla]

Hiii new story!! I wanted to do a one shot but I'm not sure, for now I'm going to post it, let me know what you think!

Thanks @minervadashwood for helping me with this story, you have really good ideas! ❤❤❤

I hope you'll like it!

Enjoy!!

*****

Better Life.

Murphy MacManus x StripperReader.

Warnings: Fluff. Bad language. Awkward situations. Attempted sexual assault.

Words: 5400

Summary: Murphy just wants to help you.

Taglist: @phoenixblack89 @browneyes528 @lilythemadqueen @darylsgarden @thefemininemystiquee @green-eyedladywrites @hail-yourselves @ruinedbythehobbit @xxtinasxxblog @ravenwings73 @spenciepoo338 @b-tchymoon @minervadashwood @darylssluttt @let-love-bleeds-red @ravendixon @livingdeadblondequeen

********

(When you can't find a good Murphy's gif and you steal a young Norman photo, @normanthatisall I love your blog)

His blue eyes roam your body, confused. From the small cabin in which he hides, he watches you move, your body wiggling as the platform on which you stand rotates so that every occupied cabin can enjoy the view of your body.

And he doesn't understand why you are there.

You are young. You both must be around the same age. Why are you working on this? Why aren't you out walking with your boyfriend? Why aren't you out for coffee with your friends? Or even studying for an exam at college or running because you're late for work.

Murphy doesn't get it.

He doesn't even understand why he's there.

He discovered you that day when he was working with his brother and Rocco to get rid of some gangsters and eliminate some pervert, they broke into the booth of one of your colleagues and after Rocco touched her tit, they ran out of there, however, Murphy captured your presence in one of the cameras at the exit. The booths had a small camera that recorded fleeting seconds of what was going on inside, thus enticing customers to enter and enjoy the full show. When Murphy saw you, he couldn't look away.

It's been a couple of weeks since that, he knows your schedule, the days you work inside the booth or in other parts of the club, he follows your every move. It's almost sickening and he knows it's wrong.

But he can't control it.

He blinks as the opaque shutter covers the glass and the door latch opens ending the show. You're done for the day, tomorrow afternoon you'll be back for those pigs to touch themselves again looking at you. Low growl clenching his fists.

**

You hurry out the alley, cursing your boss as you text your sister.

"My boss is an asshole, I'll be there in twenty minutes."

"Hurry up, I have to go to work."

"Fuck!" You curse again picking up your pace.

"Ya should get another job, lass." You hear a voice in the shadows and you jump.

A boy, almost your age, is coming towards you, his blue eyes riveted on you, he's wearing a long black coat and his hands are hidden in his pockets. He almost looks like a child with that look, but something behind his pupils tells you to be careful.

"Excuse me?" You say trying to walk away.

"Y'shouldn't be workin' here, why do ya do it?" he asks again and you raise your eyebrows in surprise.

"Look, if you're a customer, I'm sorry, my shift is over."

"I'm ain't a customer." He grunts with distaste. "Aye, I've been watchin' ya, but I haven't..."

"You've been watching me? Are you a cop?" You frown and he laughs noseily.

"No, but I think ya deserve better, yer young, ya could work anywhere else than lettin' those guys drool lookin' at ya."

"Who the fuck do you think you are to tell me what to do?" you roar and Murphy realizes he's gone too far.

"H-hey, I'm sorry, I..." You turn to leave and he reaches out holding your hand.

When you turn around, Murphy at first doesn't know what hit him, a cold, acidic liquid hits his eyes making him scream in pain as the stinging sensation runs through his entire body, he lets go of you and you run away at full speed.

The brunet squats down with his hands pressing his eyes tightly shut. You've used pepper spray on him and it hurts like hell, it was humiliating to hear him scream, but he didn't expect you to attack him like that. He babbles nonsense words in all the languages that run through his mind, trying to somehow appease the pain.

It certainly wasn't a good idea to wait for you in a dark alley.

The burning sensation that invades his eyes is still there, like a dull buzzing that makes him whimper like a baby, but he controls himself, sniffles through his nose and tries not to touch his eyes, he feels that his eyeballs are dry despite all the tears he has shed, he needs to get out of there, wet his face, tear that feeling out of his body.

**********

McGinty's is the only place that pops into his mind, it would have been wiser to go straight home, take a shower and sleep until the next day. But the humiliation is almost more painful than the spray in his eyes. He just wanted to help you and you've attacked him like he's an old pervert.

He needs a beer or two.

Of course he hadn't thought about the fact that his brother, Rocco and all his friends would be there, nor that the cloud of smoke flooding the pub would aggravate the pain in his parched eyes.

"Hey, Murph, where were ya?" His brother asks when he sees him come in. "We thought ya weren't comin'." He scoffs, but his twin walks right past him into the bathroom.

That puts Connor on alert, they may seem to have a disinterested affection for each other, but anyone who knows them well knows that the McManus twins are connected and anytime something happens to one, the other reacts instantly. He leaves his cigarette and gets up from the stool going after his brother like a hurricane, Rocco a little drunk follows him because he has also seen the strange expression on Murphy's face.

When they enter the bathroom they discover the other man with his head stuck under the water tap, trying to somehow relieve his burning.

"Murphy, yer 'kay, bro?" walks Connor over to him, resting a hand on his back.

"Get off me, ain't wanna talk." He grunts rubbing his eyes any contact is abrasive.

"Hey, c'mon." He grabs his shoulder to pull him away from the water.

"I said let go of me!" he yells wanting to break free.

"Dude..." Rocco then speaks as he sees him with his eyes narrowed, swollen and totally red. "Are you crying?" He can't suppress a laugh.

A thick, deadly silence settles between the three men. Connor knows his brother well, his body language and before he launches himself at Rocco, he holds him tightly making him brace and kick like a doll in the air.

"Stoppit, both of ya! Yer gonna tell us wha' happened."

**

The laughter echoes through the pub. It's just the three of them and Doc now, but that doesn't make it any less humiliating. Murphy is cowering on his stool, swallowing his anger, listening to each laugh stab into his ears. He looks sideways at his beer, he hasn't even been able to take more than two gulps, the spray has rarefied his taste and every time he swallows it's like a nail scratching his throat.

That fucking thing is killing him.

"Some whore attacked ya in alley." Laughs Rocco again.

"What the fuck were ya doin' with a hooker, Murphy?" laughs Connor too, but he growls.

"I wasn't with her. I wanted to talk to her."

"Ya wanted to negotiate her price? She clearly wasn't gonna give y'a discount." The laughter gets louder.

"I wanted to tell her to quite it!" he roars in frustration.

Silence falls in the pub, everyone's gazes fall on him again, eyes wide open, even Doc looks surprised. The surprise on their faces is far worse than the laughter. He tenses his jaw trying not to lash out at them.

"What do ya care, Murphy? She's just a whore."

And that's the million-dollar question, the question Murphy is also asking himself and when he figures out the answer, he'll tell it to himself first. Thank you very much. But the silence seems to be enough for his brother, neither dares to open his mouth again, Rocco is chewing on a new laugh, but is unable to let it out, the atmosphere is so tense it almost hurts.

"G-guys..." Doc begins to speak.

"Is it that ya've fallen in love with her, Murph?" insists Connor and smacks him on the back of the head.

No, of course he hasn't. No. He can't be in love. You've known each other for two weeks, maybe three, you don't even know each other, he's been looking at you through a mirror for all this time, actually, if you knew that you'd possibly freak out. It would make sense to him. He just wants you to be safe.

When his brother's hand hits the back of his neck, he frowns, turns quickly, hitting him on the arm with a closed fist. Connor and Murphy are always hitting each other, absurd fights between them that never end in anything serious, yet Connor notices right away that his brother's blows increase in force with each one he unloads. He has to stop it before everything gets out of hand.

"Calm down, calm down!" Connor grabs his brother by the arm twisting him towards his back to block him and slams him against the bar of the pub. "Stop it, Murphy!"

"Let go of me!" he scrambles like an eel under his body and pulls away from his brother. "I just want to help her! Why does it gotta be so weird?"

"Because it's none of our business! Come on, yer gonna help every whore in Boston?" he says with derision and Murphy snap.

"No...just..." He huffs and shakes his head. "I'm leavin'." He doesn't say anything else, just turns and grabbing his coat walks out of the pub.

**

Connor watches his brother lying on his mattress, in that apartment they have occupied, with no walls, two old mattresses on the floor and a bunch of beers lying all over the place. Murphy's back is turned to him and he knows he's upset. As absurd and funny as it's been to tease him, Connor knows he needs to talk to his brother.

"Hey, Murphy, listen..."

"Leave me alone..."

"No, seriously, if ya really wanna help her, I'll help ya, 'kay?" he encourages him, sees his body relax to turn around and look at his brother. "Do ya know what her name is or where we can find her? Other than the club..."

"Well... I guess the name she uses at the club ain't real..."

"Oh my God, Murphy..."

"What? I said I wannna help her, not that I have some elaborate plan."

"Y'ain't gotta a fuckin' plan" He sighs. "Okay, we'll go to the club, I'm sure we'll find some info on her in some work file or somethin'."

"Okay... Yer really gonna help me?"

"Aye! Fuck, but it better be worth it. We'll have to know when it's her turn..."

"Dun think it'll be too hard..." He mutters averting his gaze.

"Why? Oh shit, Murph don't tell me... Is that where ya go every day when ya get off work?" he looks at him in disbelief. "Ya pay for it?"

"N-no... not always..." He whispers averting his gaze, "I walk into those pigs' living quarters and..."

"So what? Ya jerk off yerself ? What would our mother say..."

"No! I'm just lookin' at her..."

"Fuck Murphy, yer so fucked..."

"Fuck, shut up." He says embarrassed.

**

Connor's plan isn't too elaborate either, they show up at the club where you work with briefcase full of money they claim they want to spend with one of their girls, the club owner is willing to put you all in front of them and let them choose, but Connor was quicker insisting on going to his office. Once there they knocked him out and tied him to the chair as Murphy looked for something about you among all that pile of papers.

"I-I got it!" he shouts feeling some excitement run through him as you find some papers with your personal information there's a photo verifying that it's you and he shows it to his brother.

"Uhm, not bad, at least y'ain't gotta bad taste bro." He jokes and Murphy snorts.

"Shut up." He shushs him by pointing a piece of paper in your direction. "Okay, we can go now."

Connor nods and smacks the shop owner's head as he starts to wake up, so he can escape safely.

Once again they take refuge in McGinty's, but this time no one has eyes full of pepper spray. Murphy is holding your picture and your address in his hands, he is smoking nervously and unlike last day, he has already drunk three beers. Rocco looks at your picture over his shoulder and mumbles.

"She's hot..." He nods taking a punch from Connor.

"What the fuck, man? Shut the fuck up." He chides him, but Murphy doesn't move, his eyes riveted on your picture. "What yer gonna do now?"

"I'll go to her house, talk to her..." He bites down on his thumbnail and stubs out the nearly finished cigarette butt.

"So what? Ya expect her to spray ya with the stuff again?"

"No, but... you've seen her file, she's still young enough to find another job."

"And yer gonna give her a job?"

"Maybe here at the pub... Doc needs help..."

"That's crazy, but okay, how do ya plan to convince her?"

"I-I don't know, I'll think about it as I go along..."

Connor looked at him with some pity in his eyes, but shook his head raising his hands, giving him a free hand to do what he thought he should do. He just hoped he didn't come back with eyes like two plums again.

******

Murphy walks nervously, playing with the cigarette halfway through his fingers. He has left work accompanied by his brother, but they have separated a few streets up. Connor has insisted on going with him, helping him as promised, but Murphy wants to do this alone.

You already reacted badly once, he doesn't want his brother to suffer the consequences, if there's a second one.

Taking one last puff on his cigarette, he tosses it to the ground as he fiddles with your address between his fingers before looking up, checking to see if that's the door to your house. Blowing the smoke slowly between his lips, he moistens them with the tip of his tongue and stretches out his arm, knocking on the door.

Instinctively he takes a step back, he still doesn't have a plan or a full monologue to convince you to leave the club where you're working, but he knows that if he doesn't do it now, he'll never be able to do it and he'll spend the rest of his days watching you through that mirror in your booth.

The door then opens, Murphy fidgets nervously playing with an unlit cigarette between his fingers as he bites his thumb. His surprise is heightened when on the other side of the door a boy appears.

"Hello..." He greets him in a confused, soft voice.

A boy. No older than four or five, watching him intently from head to toe. Murphy looks at him too, trying to say something coherent.

"Hel..."

"Are you my daddy?"

Murphy chokes on his own saliva, his eyes staring wildly at him. Suddenly a doubt assails his mind - is he his father? No...it can't be. His mind begins to fill with number and memory attempts. If that boy really is about five years old, Murphy tries to figure out if he knows you from that time. But it can't be, he would recognize your face. He has to admit that the child is a copy of you, with those eyes and those features, which doesn't help him much.

No. It's impossible. He'd remember being with you. Besides, he doesn't sleep with prostitutes. Maybe you weren't a whore back then, though.

Oh God what if you got into that job because of him? What if he pushed you down that sin path?

"Ciaran!" your voice is heard from inside the house. "How many times have I told you NOT to open the door?" you walk out to meet him and look at each other. "Sorry, whatever my son said to you..."

"Don't worry, Mom, he's an asshole." He laughs with the usual mischievousness of a child as he enters the house.

"Ciaran!" You scold him.

Okay, yeah, with that shitty temper he could be his son. Or Connor's. Or Satan's himself.

"I'm really sorry..." You apologize again.

"It's okay, lass, dun worry 'bout it." He shakes his head, trying to ease your nervousness a little.

"I... wait..." You stay quiet and stare at him. "Have we met before?" Murphy pales searching his mind for an excuse, but seeing your frown he knows you've recognized him. "You're the weird guy from the alley!"

"Ain't... ain't weird..."

"How did you find my house? Have you been following me?" you cross your arms with a clearly angry expression.

"No! No, no, lass, it wasn't like that. Yer boss gave us yer address."

"My boss? What do you mean 'us'?" You look around expecting some group of people to suddenly appear.

"No, I'm alone." Try to calm down. "My brother and I found yer address in yer boss's office." He explains, but that doesn't make things any better.

"Did you find... ? What the hell is wrong with you? Are you sick?" You look at him in disbelief.

"No, I just wanted to apologize, I scared ya the other day, I didn't mean for ya to be afraid of me." He quickly apologizes, but still doesn't get too close, he's learned from the first time.

"I'm not afraid of you..." You place your hands on your waist and Murphy thinks you look cute when you're angry. He shakes his head quickly putting those thoughts out of his mind.

"Still, I'm sorry... I thought I was doing something good and..." He scratches the back of his neck.

"I didn't ask for your help, I don't even know who you are."

"Murphy." He says quickly and you frown.

"What?"

"My name is Murphy Macmanus." He introduces himself by stretching out his hand to you, but you just look at him suspiciously.

"Whatever. I'm a big girl, I know how to take care of myself, I don't know what hero complex has possessed you, but find someone else." You insist, but Murphy shakes his head again.

"That's not the point..."

"Then you really are a client. All right, what do you want? If I blow you, will you leave me alone?"

"What? No! I don't want to..." He feels the tips of his ears burning. "It's just that I think you could have a better job."

"And now you're my father." You snort in disbelief. "Look, Murphy..." This one stirs uncomfortably at the whiplash of ennui he feels when you utter his name. "The day you find a job where I can make more than three hundred dollars an hour. Let me know, until then; good morning and I hope I never see you again because next time, I'll call the police." You assure him and slam the door in his face.

His eyes are still locked on your front door. Three hundred dollars an hour? Gee, maybe he should consider quitting the meat factory himself and getting into one of those booths. He shakes his head when he hears a tapping on one of the windows and sees Ciaran leaning out of it, waving goodbye to him.

"So long, daddy." He says with derision.

He rolls his eyes and walks away, cigar in his mouth and hands stuffed in his coat pockets. He doesn't want to go see Doc and the others, knows it will be humiliating again. He grunts and diverting his path he decides to go home.

**

"Murphy!"

He has trouble focusing his gaze, he doesn't know exactly where he is, he feels hot, the music is causing his ears to ring. He shakes his head, but the dull feeling doesn't go away.

"Murphy!"

It's your voice, he's sure of it, once again he tries to focus his sight, he's stuck in a narrow, dark-walled room, there's a monitor on one side and a window in front of him. He recognizes the place, it's one of those club booths, it's your booth, he blinks several more times.

"Murphy, please!" This time your voice sounds like a plea.

He finally manages to focus his gaze, on the other side of the mirror is you, lying on the floor with a shadow over you, it looks like a man's body, but it has no real definition. But it is hurting you. You are crying and there is blood on your hands.

Murphy gets up from the chair and feels his head bob dangerously. Is he being drugged? He runs clumsily to the door and try to open it, but with no hands he can't get a grip on the knob.

"What the fuck is going on!" He yells.

"Murphy, help me!"

"Fuck!" He turns back toward the glass.

His hands ball into fists, and he tries to punch the glass, but all his movements are in slow motion and anxiety builds in the pit of his stomach.

"Please!"

"Let her go!" He shouts through the glass watching as that shadow drags you away. "Let her alone, ya son of a bitch!" he yells again.

"Murphy!" You call out to him one more time before the shadow engulfs you completely.

"NO!"

**

"NO!" A piercing scream escapes his throat as he incorporates himself on his mattress.

"What the fuck!" Startles Connor in his own bed, turning to look at him. "What the fuck is wrong with ya, man!"

He's shaking, breathing hard, his eyes wide open, a film of cold sweat running down his entire body as he tries to pull himself together.

A nightmare. It was just a nightmare.

"Murphy, help me!"

No, it's something more than that.

"Yer listenin' to me?" his brother insists.

But Murphy jumps up from his bed, putting his twin on alert. Still without opening his mouth he reaches for his clothes and quickly gets dressed, Connor is unable to get his attention, his words not reaching his ears, not reaching his brain, the beeping still constant in his head, the sight of you calling for help the only thing he sees. He puts on his coat, grabs his gun and runs out of the apartment slamming the door.

"Murphy! Murph!" He calls out to him once more to no avail.

Murphy runs at full speed, his heart pounding in his chest, panting like a wounded animal, but he doesn't stop. The club where you work is some distance from his house, he has to hurry. The images, your cries for help, keep torturing his mind and his legs pick up speed.

Slipping on the ground, he circles the building as the neon lights greet him. He looks for the back door to the alley where he waited for you the other day and enters like a hurricane when one of the girls comes out, he pushes her, but doesn't stop to beg for forgiveness nerves tighten his throat like a noose.

"Asshole!" He hears her say behind his back.

He stumbles over several more girls, but finally makes it to your booth. He struggles with the door you enter and exit through, and when it opens, the girl inside freaks out, covering her body with her hands.

"Where is she!" He shouts nervously.

"W-who?" she asks frightened and when Murphy says your name she trembles. "A-a client requested her... in the upstairs rooms."

"Fuck!" He howls closing the door again and runs up to the second floor.

Along the way he encounters several security men, but he doesn't have time to argue with them, he knocks them out with an accurate punch to the jaw leaving them lying on the floor. When he reaches the second floor he hears your screams.

His pupils dilate and contract from adrenaline and rage. He draws his gun running down the hallway to the room the screams are coming from, tense his jaw and kick the door down.

The man above you startles getting up not expecting such an abrupt interruption. Murphy enters, pistol raised, and fires. He fires until he empties the clip into the body of the man who jerks with each new shot until he falls to the floor in a pool of blood. Murphy's vision is blinded by rage, breathing like a bull, his hands shaking.

He hears sobbing on the bed and everything inside him seems to change. He lowers the gun and his gaze sweeps around the room until he discovers you, lying on the bed, curled in on yourself, hands covering your ears.

"God, lass." He walks over to you, holstering the gun and grabs your wrists to get your attention.

"Don't do anything to me, please." You plead with tear-filled eyes, your makeup smearing black on your cheeks.

"No, no, it's okay, it's me; Murphy." He shushes you to look at him, surprise filling your face and he feels anger bubbling under his skin again. "Fuck, lass, what has he done to ya?" he whispers caressing your cheek.

Your left eye is bruised, your cheekbone is beginning to swell, your lip bears a cut that won't stop bleeding. That son of a bitch has gone overboard with you and no one has even tried to come to your aid.

If he could, Murphy would reduce that place to ashes with all of them in it.

"M-Murphy?" you whisper and he comes back to Earth.

"I'm here, come on...I'll get ya out of here." He promises you by quickly taking off his coat and throwing it over your shoulders.

Truth be told he hadn't even noticed your nakedness, barely a gold colored bra covers your breasts and your panties are torn and halfway down your thighs, but he doesn't seem to have reached out to touch you, which relieves him somewhat. Murphy helps you out of bed, trying not to scare you any more than you are he gets rid of your torn underwear and buttons all the buttons of his coat, it remains over your body like a huge heavy dress, but at least it covers up what that animal has tried to do to you. One of the girls then peeks through the door and Murphy raises his gun, it's unloaded, but she doesn't have to know that.

"You better get her out of here quick, they're coming." She warns him and gestures to him pointing to another emergency door.

"Thanks." He whispers putting the gun away and scoops you up in his arms carrying you out of the premises.

**

You still haven't said anything. You haven't opened your mouth since Murphy has carried you out of the premises in his arms. You haven't even protested not knowing where he was taking you, you haven't even asked him to put you down so you could go home. Your mind is off, you feel nothing except the pain in your face and hands. Murphy has discovered when he arrived at the apartment your red, slightly burned hands from holding on tightly to something trying to get away from that man.

Connor moves around you nervously, worried, angry. Not with you, he doesn't even know you, not with Murphy, he's proud of him because he saved you, he's pissed off with that bastard, although his twin has already taken care of him, disgusted with the society that exists today that allows that kind of thing. He snorts and mumbles through his teeth, handing Murphy a packet of peas wrapped in a towel.

His brother is cleaning the wounds on your hands with a damp towel, carefully cleans blood and checks that the abrasions are not important, no doubt you have fought against that guy, but he was too big for you alone.

"Here, or that eye will end up worse than it is." Connor tells and he nods placing the ice carefully on your cheek.

You finally react; a hiss escapes between your lips as you close your eyes, furtive tears escape without your permission, but you've struggled enough, you feel physically and mentally exhausted.

"I'm sorry..." Murphy whispers knowing he's hurt you. You open your eyes to look at him again, he gives you a small smile, it's sad and forced, he feels sorry for you, for what has happened to you, you don't deserve it and he couldn't help it.

"Why...?" You start to speak but your throat stings with every word.

"Don't talk, just shake yer head, okay?" he asks you and the confusion gets bigger. "Did he touch ya?" he asks you and suddenly the confusion turns to embarrassment. "I need to know, love..."

"Why? you've already killed him..."

"Aye, but I need to know if we should take ya to the hospital. If that pig has laid more than a hand on ya..."

"No... it didn't come to that, he was going overboard and I told him to stop... then he hit me and... and the whole thing was a mess."

"It's okay, it's okay." He shushes you again and gently hugs you, rocking you in his arms. "It's over now... they won't touch ya again." He promises you.

Connor watches the whole situation silently, at some distance, afraid to spoil the moment. He's never seen his brother emotionally attached to anyone but him, he finds it curious to see him with a girl, it's not like there's never been one, that's absurd, but it's always been a passing thing and Murphy has easily forgotten about it, as he himself has with his own experiences, but this is different. He really wants to protect you.

"How did you know where I was?" You ask him and Connor raises his head, he wants to know too.

"I just felt it." Murphy says with a shrug and his brother rolls his eyes. Now he's going to get cocky.

"You felt it?"

"Yeah." He shrugs and chews his lip a few times. "I went to see you and in your booth was another girl, so I asked your roommates and they told me you were up there." He explains, lying to you and Connor raises his eyebrows in surprise.

He's not going to tell you anything about his dream, some poetic bullshit about you calling for help and him coming to your rescue on his white horse? Wow, he's impressed.

"Oh, shit, Ciaran..." You say taking the pea bag out of your eye and look around. Murphy shakes his head.

"Sorry, lass, I didn't take anything from the room." He apologizes, but pulls a cell phone out of his pocket. "Here, use mine."

"Thanks..."

Murphy gets up from the floor to give you privacy as he picks up everything he's used to dress your wounds and walks to the other side of the open floor to throw away the gauze and looks to stop to prepare something to eat.

"Ciaran?" Connor asks him in a low voice.

"It's her son." He explains without looking at him.

"Oh shit, she has a son?" he speaks again in a low voice looking in your direction.

"A little five year old demon...I think." He mutters pulling out a pot and filling it with water.

Connor looks at him raising his eyebrows, but he responds by shaking his head, downplaying it, even he doesn't know how to explain it. He looks in your direction again, you're holding the phone to your ear and Connor can see perfectly well how your face suddenly changes.

"Ciaran..."

"Mom?" asks the boy on the other end of the line.

"Hi, honey, tell your aunt to put on, please." You ask and wait for your sister to answer.

"May I know where you are, you should have been back an hour ago." It's the first thing you hear.

"I'm sorry, there's been a problem at the club..." You lie, rubbing your forehead.

"A problem? What happened? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, just... can you stay with Ciaran tonight, please?" You ask licking your lip and hiss as you feel the sting of your wound.

"S- sure, you know it's no problem, but..."

"I'll tell you tomorrow, seriously. Thanks." You say goodbye to her and hang up before she asks any more questions.

"Are you okay?" Murphy asks you and you shake your head.

"Go with her, I'll handle this." Connor tells you and Murphy walks over to you again, sits down next to you and carefully pulls you into a hug.

*********

I hope you liked it!!

See you in the next stories!!

[rodrigobera04]

Fourth round, using the dark type.

DARK pure

Frog hiding in the ground, uses its bait tongue to catch birds.

Lizard changing its skin for a reddish one, looking skinned.

Bat adapting its wings to claws like scythes.

Hairy nozuchi with sharp teeth, swallowing its prey.

Nocturnal dodo bird camouflaged with the night, avoiding hunters.

Alien spy camouflaged among humans.

Oni based on amanojaku, disguised as a maiden having two faces.

Howler monkey looking like a werewolf with sharp teeth.

Eyeless cave goblin similar to a rat, adapted to basements and attics.

DARK/ROCK

Stone imp imitating an angel statue, guards cemeteries.

Cave exploring creature with a long body.

Stone coffin that serves as a portal to a world of hauntings.

Bird predator that throws stones at its prey.

Ricinullei with a rocky armor,cave arachnid.

Stone gorgon statue, except for its intimidating and unsettling eyes.

Fake stone fruit, breaking the teeth of those who bite it.

Dog creature using a stony ribcage as a house and shell.

Hunter making amber traps to catch insects and small Pokémon and stock them.

DARK/FLYING

Hairy, long-nosed and winged demon, mistaken for a witch's broom.

Owl with a devilish appearance, capable of rotating its neck or stretching it.

Flying rodent mistaken for a bat, a literal mouse with wings.

Leech flying with the wind towards its prey.

Flying monster expanded its throat with a scary face, like a macabre balloon.

Hematophagous starling looking like an avian mosquito.

Nocturnal winged creature glowing in colorful hues from a moonbow.

Toucan "monster clown",hiding a predator in its dances and bright colors.

Cave swallow with sonic power, alluding to banshees and sirens.

DARK/ELECTRIC

Electric eel ambushing victim in dark waters.

Monstrous storm cloud with the face of the yokai akashita.

Boa constrictor wrapped around prey and shocking it.

Creature with horns functioning as tasers to paralyze prey.

Fast hare creating holographic figures as he runs away,losing the pursuer.

Electric clown manipulating electricity and making "pranks" with shocks.

Boogeyman from lightning and electricity causing blackouts.

"Mad scientist" monkey receiving shocks, leaving him intelligent but aggressive.

Mammal catching fish with its tail, shocking anyone who catches it.

DARK/STEEL

Creature with a blade on its face based on the kaiju Guiron.

Spiked armored goblin who hunts fairies.

Nuckelave like monster resembling a biker on his motorbike.

Literal monster truck that eats iron.

Van Hellsing-style monster hunter with silver-based powers.

Carnivorous worms sheltered in a can, as in the can prank with a snake.

Canine-looking predator, has a bear trap for its jaw.

Greedy demon, has a chain of precious and heavy metals around his neck.

Crustacean with a pear of anguish for claw.

DARK/ICE

Quadrupedal hunting seal evoking the akhluth monster.

Aggressive narwhal using its horn as a drill, as a weapon.

Predator monster mimicking a snowman.

Ice gargoyle said to have come from cocytos.

Mole rat with a layer of ice and snow over its eyes.

Skua becoming a terrestrial predator like a bird of terror.

Sinister monster of cold and hunger, looking like a skeleton with mantis claws.

Snow cephalopod predator that can change its shape when hunting on land.

Werewolf "digger" burying prey in the snow, as some predators do.

DARK/ FIRE

Rockstar rooster using fire and pyrotechnics for his "shows".

Diabolical pig ridden by small fire imps, spreading destruction.

Goblin witch cooking her prey alive with heat.

Floating monster looking like a blimp capable of blowing itself up.

Incendiary naga striking its tail like a match.

Two-headed turtle with heads like pistols, based on western gunslingers.

Bird of prey blowing fire to get animals out of their holes.

Amphibious merman with whiskers glowing in will-o'-the-wisp like bait.

Small fire monster that, when scared, catches fire, shocking witnesses.

DARK/GRASS

Parasitic vine similar to a doll, with vines for hair.

Vitória-Regia looking like Dimitrescu, with a dark and thorny leaf hat.

Carnivorous rose bush hurting prey with its thorns.

Satyr with wooden horns manipulates his victims with his music.

Karasa-obake palm closing its leaves on target like an umbrella.

Crow transformed into a scarecrow monster thanks to cursed straw.

Dry tree monster causing travelers to get lost along the way.

Closed sunflower themed after a lunar eclipse.

Evil fruit imp that bites anyone who tries to bite it.

DARK/FAIRY

Hairy frog, reminiscent of hags and trolls, lives in sewers and attacks children.

Fruit bat parodying a vampire, drinks fruit pokemon juice.

Biting fairy imitating a four-leaf clover, bites anyone who picks it up as an amulet.

Bad wolf fairy capable of changing appearance and voice.

Carnivorous angelic fairies, deceiving with their appearance; attack in swarms.

Witch rat taking baby teeth from children, uses its pre-evolution as a familiar.

Goblin tricking people and scaring them by pretending to be a ghost.

Kikimora takes care of the home, but becomes hostile towards messy owners.

Evil gnome in a bottle, grants wishes but corrupts them.

DARK/GHOST

Black cat scaring people, like a jumpscare.

Abyssal shark appearing on beaches, a sign of storms to come.

Boogeyman having a black hole for his face, where he swallows the victim.

Kiss mark like a succubus, sucking energy from whoever marks it.

Serpentine ghost in the shape of an arm, hanging its prey.

Thylacinium ghost like a hellhound, drags hunters to the underworld.

Banshee clock counting a person's lifespan.

Sadako-style ghost, wrapped in shapeshifting hair.

DARK/BUG

Peanut bug with wings and "nose" forming an uncanny valley face.

Tarantula housed in a shoe, similar to a hermit crab.

Annoying cicada making noise to irritate others.

Worms coming out of a heart-shaped berry, alluding to heart parasites.

Giant water bug hiding in the water waiting for prey, like an alligator.

Stick insect imitating a drapion for intimidation.

Predatory fly looking like a bird of prey.

Gang and bandit themed ants,steal food.

Gravedigger beetle wearing dead animal skins and takes items like a tomb robber.

DARK/GROUND

Legless lizard posing as a snake to intimidate.

Chupacabra hidden from the sun by holes in the ground.

Carnivorous quicksand imitating a drowning person's hand.

Scary spider oni based on the tsuchigumo yokai.

Scavenging armadillo, curled into the shape of a skull.

Stargazer hiding in the sand, only its grimace is seen.

Orc pig covered in mud that camouflages and cools him.

Aardvark blowing sand through its snout and being carried away by the gale.

Rodent thief imitating vegetables to steal from vegetable gardens.

DARK/NORMAL

Threadsnake hidden in a plant pot in a minigame.

Tiliqua lizard changing their tongue to scare off predators.

"Masked" singing frog, phantom of the opera/in paradise theme.

Monster imitating a teddy bear, scares children.

Anti-togepi, a malicious egg Pokémon parasitizing its caretaker.

Deer gnawing bones and consuming calcium.

Strange Pekingese dog reminiscent of the yokai otoroshi.

Creature imitating shadows of its prey.

Kiwi camouflaged with the night and making scary noises.

DARK/FIGHTING

Living shoes specializing in kicks.

Reptilian contortionist fighter, strangling the opponent.

Violent bovine contaminated by some "mad cow" disease.

Monster with many arms, almost impossible to escape its grasp.

Pokémon with flat hands like flippers, specialized in slaps.

Carnivorous marsupial evolving its body like that of a kangaroo.

Violent and giant koala based on the drop bear.

Gladiator wearing the skin of a feline Pokémon, like Hercules.

Enemy of Tauros, bullfighter with cape like membranous wings and sword claw.

DARK/WATER

Starfish multiplying and attacking like a school of piranhas.

Pacu with a sadistic smile like a human.

Sea goblin playing tricks with its shark-like dorsal fin.

Vampire mussel with a suction mouth to feed on blood.

Crocodile pretending to cry like a child to catch the good Samaritans.

Squid pretending to be a drowning person and dragging his prey.

Aquatic predator that creates whirlpools, with spiral ears, neck and tail.

Fish camouflaged like a leaf and with an extensive jaw.

Vampiric aquatic haunting based on the nure-onna yokai.

THE LAST MYTHICAL:

Pure Dark, an eye monster that observes people, causing unrest.

[blubushie]

How did you get into Tf2

and when did you start writing in general (like I don’t mean literally) ?

Morning Vykko!

How did you get into TF2?

I've always been aware of it and have seen memes and shit (come on I'm a gamer of course I knew TF2 was a thing) but I never actually got into it until I went bush. My first month I lose a tyre so I cross the Paroo-Darling on a fucking spare and end up going to Sydney because there's a branch of the company I bought Matilda from there and they'll cover any replacements within 3 months of purchase. While I'm there and they're replacing my tyre and doing a free rotate (because Matilda is old) I decide to get rinsed so I ask around the locals (I am NOT from Sydney) and they tell me to go to Scruffy Murphy's of all places (having a lend of the tourist) so I go there without knowing that it was a total dive. I'm not here for a Scruffy Murphy's review but it was one of those pubs that's so bad you'd go back because it really lends to that 60s-70s roughhouse dive aesthetic.

I saw a pubfight break out, it was great. Outside of one pub in California (to which I arrived only at the very end) this was my first witness to a pubfight. I'm sitting there drinking an old fashioned and watching the chaos. At one point a bloke called me a seppo which is the first time I've ever been called that to my face. I threw a peanut at him.

Anyway I get there and I'm eating my too-cooked steak (I like mine rare, no drama, rather them serve overcooked food than undercooked food and I was starving so I'm not complaining) and this licked twink waltzes up to me, introduces himself as Lozza "and don't call me Laurence," and starts trying to chat me up. He's yabbering away and I'm just kinda nodding along because I don't know how to tell someone to piss off apparently. He ends up buying me another old fashioned, I feel bad so then it's my shout and I get him a screwdriver, we go back and forth and four cocktails later I'm feeling enough to actually start talking so when he asks me for my life story I indulge him.

And this nerdy little cunt goes, "So your parents don't like what you do for work, huh?"

To which I say "No," because it's true, and after this I'd learnt that if you clink your glass on the counter or table usually it's a cue to fuck off. I didn't know this at the time obviously or I definitely would've used it.

"And you got some issues with feeling true blue, huh?"

He's starting to do that thing where people pick apart your brain. I can tell by the way he's looking at me because he's giving me that therapist look that only therapists give you. "I'm an Aussie," I told him, with no hint of an Australian accent, "It's just that other people don't always think I'm an Aussie."

"And you live in a van, huh?" I probably shouldn't have told him about the van part because now I'm getting nervous. It's setting off alarm bells. I'm much more careful these days.

"I--yeah, now I do."

"You play video games, mate?" Oh God. Oh shit. Do I tell him I used to be addicted and that for a good two or three years as a teen I was basically living just to play video games because I had nothing else to stick around for? Bugger me.

"I, uh--I used to play a lot of Halo--"

"YOU EVER HEAR OF TF2?"

And this cunt goes on an hour-long spiel about the lore and who everyone is and we ended the night with him showing me the Meet the Team videos, and he's telling me, "Mate, mate, listen mate," he says mate a lot more when he's drunk, "You're like Sniper mate, you're just like Sniper."

And at first I was like "Get fucked, that's dumb."

Anyway a year later I'm on YouTube watching some video about different skinning methods for pigs (I usually use a rack but sometimes I'm out in the bush without a rack, I'm getting off track) and in my recommendations I see Meet the Scout and think "Fuck it" and watch that. I watch all of them (immediately like Sniper because we're very much the same. I also maintain a mantra of polite, professional, James Mattis) and then I find out there's comics so I go down a rabbit hole of reading all of those in one night and the autism hyperfixation has done the rest.

Unfortunately Lozza will probably never read the fic because he ships SniperSpy and not SniperScout but this one's for you mate, you carpal tunnel-inducing bastard.

When did you start writing in general?

I've always loved telling stories but I first started writing as a hobby when I was around 12 and I was terrible. It was personal short stories and no one knew I did it except for my English teacher through writing assignments. At 16 I hit a major roadblock called life and I stopped writing for a few years. In that time the most I did was journaling for my own sanity. TF2 is what brought me back and made me remember my love of writing (coincidentally this is also why the first 4 chapters of the fic are terrible, because I wrote them two years ago then stopped writing for a year and then returned with a vengeance in chapter 5 with a mantra of "No wukkas to word count, write for yourself and not for your reader.")

[lepurcinus]

I saw your post on the German rabbit care guide with interesting views.

As someone who has experience with over 13 adult rabbits and been autisticly researching them to death I can give you some care advice.

With food-

Hay is extremely important and not a supplement.

If you want to go with the natural root, it still stands. Wild European rabbits are mostly grazers, only supplementing their diet with greenery and roots when they can/when grass is not available. Hay is the human alternative to constant access to grass. This is why farm rabbits/horses/sheep with rotating grass access don't need hay but stable/pet based and over-wintering farm animals do.

Pellets - you technically only need a small amount. I only feed a bowl full as mine can only have so much access to hay due to their hutch space.

Greenery- you do not need to feed daily. I only feed kale once weekly as it is high in calcium (too much causes bladder sludge). I feed no other greenery unless I have some. If anything too much greenery is problematic as it scours.

Socialization - yes they are social

A very tricky topic. They benefit from pairs but only if spayed/neutered. They will fight otherwise. Only spay/neuter if you can find a good vet as I understand not everyone has access to a rabbit savvy vet.

To complicate things more is the view on mammals. Pet parrots are just as social (if not more) and it is not frowned upon to keep singularly if you provide enough enrichment and human companionship. The same with dogs. However step into the Territory of guinea pigs/rats/ferret/chinchillas/gerbils and of course rabbits and people will throw a fit over it.

It is perfectly fine to keep a single rabbit if you socialize with them and provide enrichment.

Wire floors- not good

It used to be an old practice to have wire floors in hutches. It was done so the droppings and urine would fall into a collection tray umderneath or floor instead of where the rabbits stand. Not now though.

Turns out rabbit feet are delicate and it can cause sore hocks. Some rabbits can "tolerate" it but it is very uncomfortable and gets hot in the summer.

It is better to either spot clean (clean just toilet corner) daily or litter box train instead.

Health to look out for-

Wheezing/snotty paws and face- check with vet for the dreaded snuffles. Technically a name for many things. One is extremely dangerous and if treated early is survivable.

Red urine- red urine is not a problem. Certain food/normal hormones can make your rabbits wee weird coloured. Only be concerned if it is very sludgie (bladder sludge) or it looks like someone has dripped a drop of red dye in it (this IS blood in urine).

Soft stools- cecotrophs being left could mean being overfed or illness. Try reducing food first. True soft stool could be indicative of too many greens but also stomach upset. Check with vet If not overfed greens.

Not eating or pooping- take up the vet immediately. Treated with Oxbow critical care TM. This is a food powder to be mixed with water and syringe fed. It needs feeding every two hours in the morning and every four hours evening. This will stop GI stasis which is fatal for herbivores of any type (especially rabbits).

If you ever need any help with information, feel free to ask :)

Thanks for the information! I certainly appreciate the hassle for wanting to respond based on that random post.

I can say that I'm sticking to those guidelines pretty well, so I don't feel bad about knowing there's something off there hahaha.

The thing about my post was more because of the weird confusion that was generated for me, I didn't trust that site too much to tell you the truth and like I said there were things that sounded very strange. (I mean if it's THAT bad as they make it out to be then I think there should already be more warnings about it and less recommendations).

I'm going to leave this in the blog as a general guide just in case, and more if anyone wants to see. Again thanks 🐇👌

[darkestrellar]

MUN VS MUSE!!! cause what the heck

SIMILARITIES

There are a few, since certain aspects of Svern have been influenced by traits or experiences of mine; though usually greatly exaggerated. For example, we're both naturally prone to underreact or not react the way people expect or want.

We have both been described as Inscrutable. Nobody can tell what either of us is thinking just by looking at us.

Both of us suck at making friends tbh for some similar reasons (often being slow to warm up, being chronically untrusting, just generally not being very naturally socially inclined. also weird)

We will both exercise questionable judgement and engage in idiot behaviours if provoked, dared, or for the sake of proving a point

Committing Stealing Crimes At Some Point In Our Life. although really the only items I have stolen are 1) stickers from a teacher when I was in first grade because I was obsessed with those specific damn stickers for some reason and wasn't satisfied with the ones I was getting through Legitimate Good Class Behaviour, and 2) a marker that wasn't where it was supposed to be in the store anyway so I just. put it in my hoodie. mine now

DIFFERENCES

Unlike Svern, I, sadly, am not insanely smart and good at all kinds of things. I possess a normal person amount of skill that takes an annoying normal person amount of time to develop.

Compared to his flexible appearance, the way I present myself is almost always the same to a depressing degree (I wouldn't know what else to do with myself tbh). Also unlike him I have a limited wardrobe and mostly rotate the same few things I like endlessly

He is way better at reading people than I am, especially in the moment, based on things like facial expression or body language. I get creeped out looking people directly in the face because I can't tell what they're thinking most of the time. Not an issue for him.

Svern doesn't particularly like cute fluffy critters and I have a beautiful guinea pig who I adore very much. I also like most other cute fluffy critters that he would turn his nose up at.

Even though we're both kind of good at getting on people's nerves (it's usually an accident on my part... usually) I care a lot more about what people think. Svern doesn't. If I had a quarter of his boundless self confidence and not giving a shit I would be able to do so much... or at least be less anxious all the time, man

[galaxiepoupeafropuff]

"Mama didn't raise no impolite witch" Vincent Griffith Fanfic Ep 1

Mélisse

The rush had simmered down about an hour ago. I skimmed through the last batch of orders from my desk at the soap shop, the amber lights attuned to the rainy day we were having in New Orleans today. On the radio, a potpourri of Haitian music from the sixties played in rotation bringing me back to those joyous moments growing up with my parents, all of it a memory now with a sour twist. 

The room smelled sweet, of cracked stems, and wild herbs picked from our garden outback. I carefully placed a rosemary leaf on the brown wax paper enveloping the order of soaps a client bought online earlier, and tied a string around it with my business card and a coupon which all were inscribed with the same cursive letters spelling Jardin de Mélisse. 

A knock at the door brought me to a halt. Standing at the door was Simoli, my cousin, who's been helping me run things around ever since he decided to stay in the states permanently. " Sa pou m fè avè w? What am I supposed to do with you?"

I rolled my eyes and tcheupsed, resuming the monotonous cycle I've been repeating for the three hours since we opened. I placed a series of glass bottles from my hibiscus and okra hairline into a shipping box and stuffed it with bubble wraps. Thank you note, close, tape, and repeat. 

"I'm almost done" 

" Yeah you said that about an hour ago when there was still a line at the register" 

I looked up at him, his face seemed refreshed, despite the long hours we've been pulling. He's wearing a coca cola red t-shirt, jeans and leather flip flops, his hair a tapered fro around his scalp. I think the change of pace and environment has been good for him. My shoulders relaxed a bit. The scissors in my hands suddenly weighed heavy, the piece of lavender between my fingers limp and awkward. I've been stuck in this room for far too long, my eyes were so adjusted to the darkness I could feel them disappearing into their own sockets, I needed a change of pace. 

" Fine" I slammed the metal scissors on the wooden desk. " i'm gonna go get lunch" i said, rising from my seat and scanning the room for my belongings. Wallet, umbrella. It was impossible for me to find anything in there, with all the pillows, the tapes, the boxes and endless inventory on the floor. The place was a fucking pig sty. I needed some fresh air, that's for certain. I scratched my head, gathering my things as I went and fighting Simoli's scrutinizing stare while he watched me rummage through my life like a raccoon digging through a pile of trash in the quarter. If he had any judgments, he said nothing. 

I threw my jean jacket on, and smoothed my hand over my tapered dress " do you wanna come with?" 

He snorted, as if I had insulted him, then threw his hand up " Mélisse, I got it from here, go". He shooed me away with a gesture of his hands, from the office, to the main floor of the shop. I stopped at one of the vintage mirrors on the wall, a fascinating relic i bought at a yard sale over two years ago, and was frightened by what i'd seen " jesus fucking christ" i muttered, digging through my bag for some lip balm. I glided it over my big lips, smoothing the layer of cracked skin that had been there before. I was immediately invaded with the scent of brown sugar and anise. Another one of my creations, not yet on sale anywhere, I was still doing a trial run on the product and was clearly failing. I sighed deeply. Simoli leaned on the counter, resting his chin in his palms

 " The AC company called. They wanna know if they can come in monday and take a look at the unit" 

I fiddled with my keys " Did they send you a price quote yet? " 

" Well, technically they have to come in and see what's wrong with it before we know how much all of this is going to cost" 

I exhaled " i uh, i don't know, let me think on it i'll get back to you" 

" Before monday" Simoli supplied, not a request, but a statement. 

I nodded. My stomach rumbled. " Do you want me to get you anything?" I interjected, moving the conversation towards something more fun, because all this AC stuff was making me anxious. I couldn't afford it, but I didn't know how to say it without causing my cousin to freak out. We were already behind on rent. The last thing I needed was for the two of us to pace around this place like anxious chickens. Leave it all to me to worry and figure out a way, Simoli deserved to just relax for a little while and not have to dive head deep into the travesty that was "the american dream" 

The boy flipped through pages of a messy white binder absentmindedly " No" 

I cocked my head to one side " Here i was thinking i was the only workaholic around here" 

His light brown eyes shot back at me, from this angle I could see how grandma's features have carved his cheeks, his forehead and fierce glare to be like hers. He sneered " Ou toujou ap pale kaka ou menm, you' re always talking shit" 

After agreeing on a meal for him, I walked out of the store, umbrella in hand, dodging the disgusting sewer water flooding the streets and made my way to Rousseau's. Not necessarily the idea of fresh air i had in mind but oh well. The small bar was situated in an old townhouse, with shuttle doors and peeling paint, identical to quite a few buildings here in New Orleans. A slow trepidation of old times amid the rise of modern, more expensive new developments. My sandals clattered on the wooden floor, the sight of dead leaves and debris clinging to my soles and feet, causing me to frown. I shook the water off from my umbrella and took a seat at the bar, on one of the stools that was designed far too small for people with big butts and thighs like mine. After a few trials and errors I finally felt comfortable enough to rest my bag on the metal hook beneath the bar. I pulled my now wet and frizzy orange coils on top of my head, tying them and fluffling the ends into a pineapple bun. 

A white man with blue eyes and an irish accent strolled through the swinging doors, noticed me and brought over a menu. " How ye doing? can i get you anything?" 

I ordered an IPA while I read through the small menu he had handed me. People sat in groups, some alone, all around me the room boiled with small chatter, rocks glasses knocking over wood, forks clicking and salt shakers clattering against beer bottles, hot sauce and so on. On my left was a mail lady, having a small cup of coffee and reading a newspaper, on my right was an old man slurping on a bowl of chicken soup, on a stool a few feet from him was another man, this one i had seen before, of about 6 feet tall, with umber skin and a bird tattoo clawing at his skin , having a bourbon, a small plate of french fries in front of him. 

The bartender slid a coaster in front of me and handed me my beer. The handsome man with the claw tattoo coaxed a book over his face. I can recognize a cover of Marcel Proust anywhere. He read with laser interest, his index finger bejeweled by a plain silver band, tracing his lips. 

" Miss…" 

" Yes" I blinked, " sorry long day" I laughed. When he didn't smile back, i cleared my throat and proceeded to say " i'll have a jambalaya to go, and uh " tapping my fingers against the hard menu cover, i quickly inspected the appetizer list "the pulled pork natchitoches and a small soup for here" 

He nodded, his expression solemn and bored as he took the menu back and shoved it inside an obscure shelf behind him. "Cash or card? " 

" Card" i thrusted the blue card in his hand

 " you want to keep the tab open?" 

My eyes shifted to the man again, this time he was brushing his beard, his eyes still glued to the pages of the book. I must've been staring a little too intensely because suddenly his brows knotted and his round eyes, two pools of deep brown, shaped so sensually looked back at me. My heart thudded. The bartender noticed, shifted his body to the left side of the room. I squeezed by glass, letting the chillness kiss my fingertips " No i'll close out" 

The bartender pursed his lips and nodded

 " very well then" 

I sipped on the orange brew in my glass, letting the tangy flavor flood my taste buds and slowly closed my eyes. Everything else around me, the pressure at the store, Simoli, the people inside the bar faded into the background. 

Vincent 

" People do not die for us immediately, but remain bathed in a sort of aura of life which bears no relation to true immortality but through which they continue to occupy our thoughts in the same way as when they were alive. It is as though they were traveling abroad. " 

I stumbled upon this quote at some point while reading a shriveled copy of The captive/ the fugitive which i found at the clearance section of my local bookstore earlier this week. I haven't sat down and read for pleasure in a long time— not since college which felt like ages ago— A capsule in time where i was young, an eager witch, stupid and burning with love for Eva. There was a time where i would hear that name and would automatically feel the pull of guilt, the hollowness of losing someone, by my own volition, my own ambition creeping up inside my chest, sinking me away from this reality into one where Eva's ghost was seeking vengeance for my wrong doings. 

That feeling is dead now, my love for the woman dead with it. The only thing left is the empty space that once blossomed—Healed shut—-At least i was trying to heal. Camille had put me in touch with a friend from school who ran her own practrice now. For the last two years since the Mikealsons been gone and Marcel took over as king, i've been sneaking weekly sessions with Judith on the other side of town, trying to unpack all the shit that went down. She's suggesting medication for the insomnia and nightmares, but i'm not gonna lie, i am a bit apprehensive. I wish Camille was still with us to discuss this with, i wish my friend was still here in general to breath in the peace we've been fighting so hard for, i miss her smile.

I wetted my tongue with some of the bourbon in my glass, now watered down. I signaled to Declan to spin me another round and went back to reading my book, hunting the wisdom the renowned author penned centuries ago, when suddenly i felt a prickle at the back of my neck, the knowing sense that someone's attention was on me. I swallowed the lump in my throat and raised my eyes. I noticed a woman sitting at the other end of the bar watching me. Instictvely her gaze veered towards the content in her glass, downing it halfway like a pro, then rested it on the coaster in front of her. There was a particular nervousness about her that didn't quite travel to her round face. Her cheekbones glistened not from sweat, but rather from the products she used to maintain her appearance— she looked like she really took care of herself. Her skin was deep as a harvest moon night, as if calla lillies themselves lived beneath it. Her hair was dyed serpia orange, fixed on top of her head in a way that complimented her features.

 She was striking. Was she a witch??? I don't think i've ever seen her around here before. With the new leadership and reforms i've implemented as regeant, i wouldn't be surprised if news traveled to neighboring states and was bringing outside witches into our walls. A weird sensation sliced through my chest, and managed to somewhat buzz around my shoulders and legs. I inhaled, exhaled, i needed to get my shit together. With this new awareness therapy had provided me with, it was hard at times to know if the sensations living in my body was weariness or something else—A warning or excitement? —The alertness of a Tremé witch or the fragility of a damaged man. I hung back, balancing this particular dilemma in my head while playing with my beard as though all the answers were hidden inside it. As tempting as this new witch was, i didn't necessarily think introducing myself to this new comer was a good idea. I felt no urge to interrupt her lunch break, god knows this is the last thing any woman needs right now. 

Declan rattled the silver shaker in one hand while pouring a golden brown liquid—my drink— into a clean glass. 

For the next hour, i've given up on trying to understand pretentious literature. Leave it to some old white man to throw a pile of random shit on the wall that barely make sense, and watch the world revere him as a literary genius. This shit can get exhausting. So i scrolled through facebook instead, when that wasn't enough, i cleared Freya's emails and text messages from my screen. The apologies were getting redundant. I didn't have anymore space for anymore Mikealson guilt, not now, not in the near future. She fucked up and put a teenager's life in jeopardy and now Davina is dead. This is her burden to carry, her shame to live with. I'm done being the errand boy, the witch for hire, the punching bag and everything in between. 

Once the woman finished her meal, Declan came back with an order neatly wrapped in a plastic bag and handed it to her. She gathered her things, thanked him, and put back a pocket size book she was reading earlier into her burgundy bag, then her notebook, her headphones. Not once had she turned to look at me since i caught her in the act. The haste in her movements made me rethink a last minute introduction over. Keep it cool, maintain good distance, there couldnt possibly be any harm in doing so right?  but before i could make up my mind and muster the courage,  she was already charging for the door, belongings in hand, her large hips swaying from here to there rythmically. The gold anklets she stacked around her ankles came to view. My gaze lingered in the poetry that was her curves, my throat felt tight and dry. I snapped myself out of it, averting my attention to the ceiling fan instead. My mama didnt raise no impolite witch. I shifted in my seat, cleared my throat and made sure no one else had caught me looking—-no, lusting over this beautiful stranger. I had a reputation to uphold, that is of a widower, a regeant who wielded strong power, a leader of his community. Do leaders not allow themselves the distraction of entertaining the pleasures of the flesh?  Can good leadership coexist with the simplicity of desire? 

When her hands pressed against the dusty shuttles and disappeared behind it, i mumbled a silent prayer, ever so intimate to the universe, to let me see her again.  

Photo credit: Dorcas E Jacob on Pinterest

[a-mag-a-day]

MAG 72 - apple cutting

Ah, yes, Basira's going after Rayner! Interestingly enough, Basira once did walk in on Jon when he was recording a statement with Rayner (MAG 52 Exceptional Risk with Robert Montauk). On my first listen I honestly didn't remember the name Maxwell Rayner from MAG 52, even less from MAG 9, so I totally didn't understand why Jon knew to bring torches. Also, without the knowledge of the Fears and their specialties I think I didn't make the connection of darkness being a thing on its own at that time, as it's a stylistic device used in a lot of horror.

I think it's funny, that in English it's spelled "kebab" (with a B at the end) while in German it's "Kebap" (with a p at the end). Either way, it's neither an English word nor a German one. I looked it up, and in Turkish (and Austria, and Germany I guess, has a lot of Turkish influences. I mean, siege of Vienna by the Ottoman Empire happened not only once but twice and a lot their stuff just stuck) it's spelled kebap with the P, but that also just traces back to the arabic word kabāb and there it's spelled with a B.

"Weirdly enough, it wasn’t a Chinese; it just served kebab, chicken, burgers…" - We actually have a lot of those everything-takeaways here. Kebap, Pizza, Burritos, Sushi, Schnitzel, all from the same restaurant

"I was always under the impression that you needed to order those huge rotating columns of things specially" - lol, it's literally just a bunch of meat pierced onto that Döner skewer. It's that simple. I looks impressive yes, but it's not complicated.

"You know the weirdest part, though? The bit I regret most is that I don’t know which of the meals it was. I feel like, if I’ve been tricked into eating a person, I might at least have learned what a human being tastes like." - Hhhnnggg, I miiiight have been the same? Hard to say not being in that position. I mean my initial reaction, just thinking about this, is nausea, but I totally understand that there is a sense of curiosity there?

"I know how that sounds, and I’m certainly not okay with murder," - Yeah, totally agree on that one. That is completely out of the question.

"not to mention the issue with prion diseases" - Yep! AAALSO DID YOU KNOW!!! (Oh god, I waited 74 days to finally talk about this!) There was a person who survived 10 years with Creutzfeldt-Jakob thanks to experimental treatment. (The average life expectancy following the onset of symptoms is 13 months, so 10 years is a big deal!). And now hold on to your butts. That person was a man from the UK. And his name was… Jonathan Simms! (Look him up, he got a Wikipedia page. Simms, with double M, from Belfast.)

"but the actual act of eating meat that comes from a human? I’m fine with it. I can’t help but feel that anyone happy to eat other meats is something of a hypocrite if they’re not at least theoretically fine with eating human. There’s nothing inherently special about us. We feel as much pain, see the world with the same eyes as a real pig. Meat is meat." - This is what I meant when I said just two episodes ago, that Jonny put a lot of views or thoughts into TMA that I totally had in the exact same way before. I've always said I should be fine with eating all kinds of animals, not just the ones we deem not cute enough to keep as a pet. People always tried to get a reaction out of me when finding out that I have a horse by saying "Omnom, I like salami" (first of all, what is wrong with you that this is what you want to say to a person who likes horses. Just shut your mouth if you have nothing of value to say) and I always was like "Yeah, if it's not a horse I knew, why not". I also always thought I should be able to stand next to an animal getting slaughtered if I want to eat them. Meat is meat? My saying always was (although I'm not religious, but I think everyone got, what I meant) "All life is the same in front of god and on a dinner plate."

Since I am Caucasian in Central Europe I feel like I'm not really in a place to comment on the discourse of racism in this episode. I do see however that it seems to be self-aware of it a bit when the statement-giver talks about that teenager, who broke into the kebap shop. Like "It's a white boy in nice shoes, of course they let him go."

"but that if I didn’t check in with him in an hour or so, he should come down, in case I had trouble of any kind." - Smart. I like smart people in horror stories.

"In his spindly hands he held a pair of bolt cutters, with the blades positioned either side of my ankle." - I heard that a full rupture of the Achilles tendon is one of the most painful things (burns are also super high on that scale btw. Poor Jack Barnabas). My dad told me he was once present when an athlete ruptured their Achilles tendon while running. He said it was like a gunshot… But yeah, anything in horror media or thrillers etc. involving cutting the Achilles tendon is some body horror that seriously gets to me. I don't know, feet in general get to me. Happens regularly at work (Ha, imagine working in orthopedics T___T).

"I saw chipped teacups, a stack of what looked like old bibles" - This ties in with MAG 5! There was a trash bag with strips of paper with prayers on them!

"A small pile of human fingers." / "In a single, smooth motion the knife lashed out, cutting through my bound hands and neatly severing three of my fingers in a sudden burst of white-hot pain." / "Instead he picked up my fingers one by one and tossed them off-handedly onto the pile behind him." / "then looked at my right hand, which still seemed to have all five fingers. It didn’t make any sense. I could still see the ones he had cut-off on the pile. One of them bore my heavy silver ring, while the same finger on my hand did not." - This is why I always knew that MAG 5 is a Flesh statement. The detail about the teeth being all the very same but in different stages of decay and age. The thing with the fingers was just exactly like that.

"He spoke with a crisp RP accent, which surprised me. You know what’s messed up? Here was this guy clearly about to kill me and carve me up for meat, and I still somehow felt bad about making the assumption that he couldn’t speak English, like I didn’t want my last thoughts on Earth to be low-key racist." - There the statement is again self-aware of some sort of racism. This is absolutely a thing sadly, especially in super white Central Europe. How often have I heard people of color tell me that they got told "Wow, your German is really good." ¬_¬ Though I do totally understand the criticism of using the stereotype of the "Chinese people will eat anything" for a Flesh-themed statement. In the movie Fresh (2022) (also, spoilers for Fresh:) the first place where the protagonist has a date is also a Chinese restaurant and I was very aware that this was probably also already a nod at where the story is headed - cannibalism. There were subtle hints to this throughout the whole movie before we get to the reveal, that Sebastian Stan's character abducts women to lock them up at his house at a remote location and uses them as supply for fresh human meat to sell to rich people.

Ha, Jon says "End statement" again instead of "Statement ends".

It's a very loaded statement! A lot of interesting stuff, and a lot of less so. I don't want to get into it, but I do think the statement is very self aware more than people give it credit for, and the Flesh entity is terrifying.

The teeth and fingers thing is... ough. Gross is putting it lightly haha!