#like yes she advertises a bit in her videos

[thehobbutts]

i really struggle with keeping my apartment clean bc of adhd/depression/the crushing weight of existence, but watching aurikatariina on YouTube literally makes me want to get up and clean something every single time. she cleans houses for free for those who really need it and her videos are asmr but she also tells you what products she uses for different types of messes and it's SO helpful, like I have learned how to clean my kitchen and my bathroom and somehow it makes the idea of cleaning less overwhelming

[orphicrose]

Are you still doing requests? Can I request Alastor x Wife reader who were married together alive an reunited in hell and while Alastor hates modern tech the reader grew on it and even started a life hack channel on voxtube of tricks from the 1920s and it becomes really popular and she gets sponsors and fan mail meanwhile Alastor needs Angel's help just to video chat her and one day she gets a 5 million subscriber mileage congratulations gift box (that all creators get bit hes still mad) from Vox himself

Old man and an Iphone

Requests are still open indeed.

I can definitely do my best! I’ve changed the dates around a little to better fit the technology advancements in the universe. This is set in the early 2000s

This is somewhat small, but i hope you like it.

----------------------

Years passed like turning pages since your husband had departed from you, in the cruelest ways that anyone could imagine. A fate that wasn’t even inevitable. That singular fragile piece of metal, shot from an unknown hunter, took him away from you.

You knew who he was, you knew what he was. Knowing that you’d end up in the same temple of horror one day that he has. His sins being your sins. That brought you some peace. Knowing you’d be reunited one day. Even if it was in the worst place imaginable. Hell. That day came sooner than you’d like to admit. Leaving behind your clueless grandchildren and your own hellish spawn.

The ground below you hit rather hard, not even knowing you were falling down the rabbit hole till the bottom came right to your face. You let off a grunt in response. Your body feeling light, all of a sudden. As if the age and wrinkles had just vanished, and you were young again. Legs feeling like they could run miles, and skin, well. Your new hellish form wasn’t much of an improvement from leather skin.

Knowing for years you’d end up here, it wasn’t too difficult to take in. Accepting your sins and your fate as a part of your journey. It wasn’t so bad. There was society, and structure down here. Immortality being the only true torture.

The other torture, you had no idea where your dearest Alastor had ended up. It had been almost 70 years since you’d seen him, god knows what he looks like now. Your reunion was sudden, after all, he was a well known overlord. Yet, it was still something out of a textbook romance novel.

Over the next decade or two, you two spent every second together. Refusing to be apart again. You sharing stories about your children, grandchildren. Melting Alastor's heart like he never thought you could. There was so much catching up to do. After time, you became infatuated with the media, creating your own channel. it was called "Hellish crafts", which started with a bunch of silly tips and tricks when it comes to house work. Alastor didn't understand, but it came with a hefty income.

After becoming tenants at the misguided daughters of hells hotel, you soon began helping with advertisements. Which grew the channel even more. From random life hacks, to advertisements, to smaller channels asking you for your help to grow theirs.

"Must you film me, dear?" his hand covers his face as the camera fizzes out of focus.

"Yes! Its for Charlie. Lighten up old man" You teased him, filming the hotel lobby. He smiled at your expression, resting a hand on the small of your back as you did your craft.

"Y/n! Y/n! Another letter for you!" Niffty ran over

Alastors hand dropped, snatching the letter from the little goblin.. Eyebrows furrowed. "This is the third letter in the passed three days, sweetheart"

"What can i say, my channel is a hit" One eye was closed as the other was pressed to the run down camera that Alastor insisted you used. Still walking slowly around the hotel, trying to get a good shot. Alastor stood in his place, reading the letter. "Another delusional fan" He mumbled.

"Don't worry! i wont let the fame go to my head" You swung around with the camera, getting him in frame. The static of his aura interfered with the lens and gave your brow a small electric shock. Jolting you backwards.

"I've warned you about that" He chuckled, hand returning to your waist and pulling you closer. His other hand with the letter, raising, and a fit of flames emitted. Turning the letter into ash on the floor, which nifty didn't wait to clean up.

Life was like this for a while, constant letters. Some weird, some genuine. But you never got to read most of them, as Alastor made it his duty to send them to another realm before you could. was he jealous? maybe, he'd never care to admit it though. That was until a rather glamorous piece of paper fell through the letter box on this particular day. Stamped with Vox's logo. You got to this letter first.

"What the fuck?" Your almost angry tone alerted Alastor, whose body materialized next to yours in seconds. "What's the matter, my dear?" his eyes briefly scanned over the letter before snatching it from you.

"What is a 5 million subscriber?"

"Its the amount of people who support my channel, i honestly didn't even know it was that big." you stared up at him, waiting for some sort of outburst on his face.

"That's... " he thought for a second "Wonderful dear! Absolutely wonderful!" his arms wrapped around you in an embrace, spinning you around. When you first started the channel, with his knowledge, it was more of a way to pass the time. So, for it to be as big as it is now was quite the accomplishment. What kind of husband would he be not to support his perfect wife, he thought. Whether she was practically paying vox or not. His quarrels weren't hers.

"I believe you have some type of reward, y/n" He spoke again, putting you down and giving the letter back. His sharp nail pointed at a fine print at the bottom. 'Visit the Vee headquarters to redeem your reward'.

You both looked at each other, brows raised and a concerned look in your eyes. "I'm sure it's not important. I don't need a reward"

He looked as if he was in deep thought. Contemplating everything for a second. "You should go" "But vox is your-"

"Hush, little woman" His finger covered your lips "This is important to you darling. I trust you"

The smile on your face made his bigger, making you deserving of the little peck he placed on your lips before adjusting his posture. "On the condition that my shadow follows your every move"

"Done"

A few hours had passed since your departure, Charlie offering razzle and dazzle to escort you to the large mansion on the other side of the pentagram. It was quite the journey, considering the traffic. And it wasn't long before Alastor began to miss you, wondering if you were okay.

"Ahem" static gave Angel a brief episode of tinnitus before he swung his body on the lobby sofa, met with the lanky deer.

"Waddya want, pimp?" his attention didn't last long, his phone having far more interesting contents than the demon lurking behind him.

"I need a favor" his smile made the question seem a lot more sadistic than intended. His body swiftly moved around the sofa, standing in front of the spider now.

"If you want my soul, I got bad news for ya."

"Your soul?" He was almost confused for a second "No, i need help with this" he lifted his hand, angels phone disappearing and reappearing in the deer's grip.

"Wh- hey! Give that back" Angel leapt to his feet, reaching up and snatching it back. "Why do you want help with a phone? Aren't you like, from the dark ages?"

It took Alastor a moment to be able to admit to it. "I'd like... to call my wife"

"Awww, is someone clingy" angels teasing didn't last long before radio dials appeared in the demons eyes, radio interference filling the air as quickly as it had disappeared earlier. "Okay, okay" Angels hands flew up in surrender, Alastor returning to normal instantly. "Splended!"

It took a moment for Angel to flick through the thousands of contacts he had, before he finally reached you. Pressing the call button and handing the phone to Al. Who held it like an old grampa looking at a meme. "What do i do now?" he squinted his eyes at the device in his hand. "Just hold it" Angels voice became frustrated as he readjusted the phone in Als hand.

You had picked up the call a minute ago now, on your way back to the hotel. Being greeted to the two boys bickering. "Helloooo?" you sung out, attempting to get their attention.

"Oh. Hello my dear!" Alastor noticed to and bared his teeth in an awkward smile. "I just wanted to see how my love was doing, is all"

"How sweet. I will be back soon." You had many questions to ask when you were back with the comfort of your person.

"Do hurry"

[scorpiussage]

The Robin to My Batman (Neil Lewis/Fem!OC)

Pairing: Neil Lewis/Fem!OC 

Summary: A comic book store opens up next to Gumshoe Video prompting a hot and heavy feud between the two businesses and their nerdy owners. 

Theme: Romance - Enemies to Lovers 

Warnings: Nerds being nerds, smut 

The early morning walks to open Gumshoe Video are always enjoyable for Neil. He loves getting coffee from that family owned Armenian coffee shop down the street, greeting the old man who owns the hardware store across the street, and contemplating what the day’s theme should be. 

However, his gorgeous, peaceful morning comes to a screeching halt as he spots a large moving truck parked in front of Gumshoe— no, parked in front of the vacant store to the left of his. He quickly darts into the alleyway across the street and watches with mounting horror as some—so far unrecognizable—new business moves in. 

“No no no no no,” Neil mutters to himself, already picturing the worst case scenario. What if it’s a competing video store? Or perhaps on of those Christian shops that sells over priced bible themed tchotchkes? Both are miserable possibilities and he has no idea what he’ll do if either of those ends up being the case. 

When the coast is clear of movers, Neil goes sprinting into his store and making a made dash for the phone to call his friends. 

He has a bad feeling about this. 

…

The first time he sees her is at the grand opening of Golden Age Comics, the new comic book store next door. The first thing he sees when he walks in isn’t the life sized cutouts of various comic book characters placed strategically about nor the wall display of rare figurines. 

No, the first thing he sees is her, Bailey Taylor, the owner of the shop. She’s dressed like Wonder Woman, displaying these long shapely legs that have Neil’s jaw going slack in awe. She flutters about the store, greeting customers and advertising the big grand opening sale she’s running. 

Johnathan and Lucien, who came into the store with him, start needling each other excitedly, muttering about how hot she is and Neil can only feel dread. This can only spell bad news, he just knows it. 

Not at all like a coward, he quickly flees the store before she can approach him. 

…

The first time he actually meets Bailey, she comes into his shop. Today Gumshoe is having a deal on westerns and so Neil is dressed accordingly as a cowboy. When she walks into his store, it creates a rather comical juxtaposition as it appears her own store is having a sale on Japanese manga. 

Sailor Moon Bailey and Cowboy Neil stare each other down. 

“Um, hi,” she greets with an awkward little wave, her smile bright despite the uncomfortable mood, “I own the comic book store next door. My name is Bailey.” 

Neil nods stiffly, doing everything in his power to not stare at how hot she looks in that cosplay. When Neil fails to respond, an irritatingly adorable frown mars her features 

“Okay,” she mutters to herself before saying, “Well, I just wanted to see if you’d be willing to do a team-up and have a collaborative sale.” 

Neil scoffs, “And what? Hock old Adam West Batman tapes?”

She perks up and nods enthusiastically, “Yes! Exactly! I actually have this really great id-.”

Neil shudders at the thought and cuts her off before she can get going, “The old Batman show is absolute garbage in its cinematic delivery— no way would I subject my customers to that.” 

The glare she gives him could cut steel and admittedly makes his happy bits stir in interest. 

“Garbage?” She snarls, “That show was a pioneer for superhero media! Just because some over hyped alcoholic wife beater didn’t direct it, doesn’t mean it’s not good!” 

Neil’s eyes narrow at her and he crosses his arms, trying to appear more authoritative than he usually looks, “Oh believe me, the director has nothing to do with the bad editing and poor visual shots!” 

The woman looks like she’s visibly holding herself back from launching herself over the counter and decking Neil in the face. His cock makes another inappropriate twitch at the thought and he internally scolds himself for these reactions. 

Without another word, Bailey storms out of the store and stomps her way back to her own shop and Neil breathes a sigh of relief. 

God, he really needs to get laid if some uneducated comic dork is getting him riled up. 

…

After that disastrous first encounter, a Cold War of sorts settles over the two businesses. If Neil is having a sale, Bailey will have a better one. If Neil does a midnight showing of a movie, Bailey hosts a free-to-join D&D party. If Neil dressed up, Bailey does too but does it better. 

It’s aggravating. 

Neil doesn’t even know what it is about her that has him going absolutely insane, but it’s beginning to be a problem. For instance, last week she dressed up like Cat Woman and strutted about both in and out of her store, placing herself in full view of Neil boredly manning the register of his own shop. He had to go and jerk off in his office like five times; and he was still horny afterwards!

Like he said— problem. 

And it’s only getting worse. 

“Dude, oh my god! She’s dressed like a school girl today!” Johnathan says while rushing into the shop, a lecherous grin on his face, “Her skirt is so short!” 

Lucien cheers and Neil rams his head onto the surface of the checkout counter repeatedly. 

He’s gonna die horny and infuriated by her subpar taste in cinema, it’s inevitable. 

Lucien just gives him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder and leaves him to his melancholy while he and Johnathan go next door. 

“Ugh what do I do?!” He laments pathetically to himself. 

…

The second interaction that Neil has with Bailey happens on a slow night for both businesses. 

Neil is parked on the shop couch, watching Lady in the Lake and barely staying awake when she comes into his shop. She’s dressed normal today in a worn Captain Marvel t-shirt and denim shorts and he’s a little too tired to properly hide the slow up and down he gives her. 

A little blush settles on her face when she catches him doing that. 

“Slow night?” She asks after clearing her throat awkwardly. 

“Yeah, you?” 

Bailey blows a raspberry and nods, walking over to the couch and throwing herself down onto it next to Neil. He quickly scoots over, giving her room while trying to smooth his shirt and hair down to look less like a mess. 

“What are we watching?” She asks. 

Things sort of devolve from there. Whether it was one innocent comment taken the wrong way, or an intentional dig, it prompts a fresh new screaming match between the two of them over the cinematic quality of the Adam West Batman series. This woman will not let go of that trash TV series, Neil realizes.

Bailey gets up from the couch at some point, Neil hot on her heels as they move their heated argument about the store. It’s when they’re next to the wall that Neil pushes her against the surface and pins her arms high above her. He’s not thinking when he kisses her, pushing his tongue into her mouth to taste her— he’s running purely on adrenaline and instinct. 

That first kiss they share is not a gentle one; it’s rough and filthy and hot. 

“You are such a brat,” Neil bites out scathingly, his hands slipping away from her wrists to start running over her chest, cupping those perky tits of hers in his hands. 

“You are an obnoxious tool!” She sneers in return, her now free hands making quick work of his belt buckle and the button on his jeans. 

“I can’t believe how terrible your taste is in cinema! A rock would have better opinions!” Neil helps her push his pants down and then reaches forward to yank her shirt off. The bra she’s wearing is just a simple navy colored one but it has him physically biting back a moan at the sight. 

She smirks up at him, then pushes him away with a rough shove, sending him into one of the shelves. She gets into his space, wrapping her arms around his neck and initiating another one of those blood racing kisses. 

He reaches down and grabs her under her thighs, hoisting her up to wrap her legs around his waist. He starts walking them back towards his office, fully intent on throwing her down onto his couch in there and getting all this frustration out of his system. 

Sex has always been pretty gentle and by-the-book for Neil, he’s never had a desire to be rough or for a partner to be rough with him, but Bailey makes his head fuzzy. She makes him want to do things he’s never done before. 

“Fuck— Neil!” She gasps when he puts her down and immediately sticks his hand down the front of her shorts and starts rubbing along her slit. It’s so wet and he groans, his cock twitching in anticipation. 

“Can’t wait to shut you up,” he tells her, his long fingers alternating between rubbing vicious circles on her clit and slipping down to enter her with harsh thrusts, “Been thinking about this for weeks.” 

Her fingers scratch lightly across his stomach as she pushes his shirt up, “Well, you’re going to have to do lot better than this to make that happen.” 

His eyes narrow and he pulls his hand out of her shorts, ripping the button open and yanking them down her legs. He grips her around her hips and flips her onto her stomach, climbing onto her legs to keep her from kicking about. 

“I am so sick of that smart mouth,” he tells her before laying a loud slap to her right ass cheek, making her cry out in surprise that dissolves into a moan. He would spank her in earnest, but he’s been so fucking horny for so long that he only gives her a few smacks before slipping his fingers up under the edge of her panties, rubbing the buttery soft skin of her ass. 

Trailing his hands up, he unhooks her bra and climbs off of her so that she can turn over onto her back. She’s quick to shuck off her bra and panties, exposing herself entirely to his hungry gaze. 

“You said you thought about this for weeks,” she remarks while slipping her fingers down to her folds, “How many times did you jerk off to me?”

He groans and goes down to his knees, leaning forward and shouldering his way between her thighs. 

“So many fucking times,” he admits shamelessly before licking into her with enthusiasm.

Her fingers thread through his hair, tugging him forward and using the leverage to grind against his face. He could die here, smothered between those shapely thighs, and it would be in total bliss. Her moans are the sweetest thing he’s ever heard and he endeavors to hear them get louder. 

“Are you gonna cum for me, baby?” He asks, his fingers returning their journey of entering her and his eyes watching with hooded rapture as her cunt sucks them into her. 

“Neil,” she gasps his name, chanting it like a prayer and he picks up the pace with his fingers. He sucks on that hard little bud of hers and feels her cum around his fingers, that soaking cavern gripping him tightly. 

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, “please let me fuck you.” 

Her thighs are shaking as she comes down from her orgasm high, “Yes, fuck yes.” 

He doesn’t need any more encouragement— he’s barely got his underwear down before he’s pushing into her. She’s tighter and wetter than any other pussy he’s been in and he tells her as much, rasping filthy things into her ear as he begins a brutal and unrelenting rhythm. 

“Thought about bending you over the front counter and fucking you stupid so many times.” 

Her nails dig into his back, raking along the surface and certainly leaving their mark. 

The thought alone of her marking him could make him cum. He bites his lip harshly to try and wrestle back some control, unwilling to see it end so soon. 

It barely works as his hips stutter in their thrusting. 

“Can I cum in you?” He asks— no, practically begs her.

Her arms snake around his shoulders, tugging his head forward to rest against hers, their mouths finding each other hungrily. Between filthy, tongue filled kisses, she gasps, “Please!” 

Permission granted, he buries himself as deep as possible inside of her, the head of his cock nudging her cervix, and he cums. He groans loud and long as those warm, wet walls squeeze every last drop from his cock, sucking it better than any blow job could manage. 

He pulls out of her slowly and almost reluctantly, sad to part from that perfect cunt of hers. A flow of white cum follows his departure, dripping from her opening and over her ass in thick globs. 

He’s never seen something so sexy in his life and he doesn’t know what he’ll do if he doesn’t get to see it again. 

Stepping back from Bailey, he grabs his shirt off the floor and uses it to wipe her clean, chuckling at the deadpan look she gives him for the effort. Tossing the shirt aside, he climbs onto the couch and lays himself out next to her, pulling her to rest against his chest. 

They lay like that for a long time, catching their breaths and basking in the after glow. 

“You don’t really hate the Adam West Batman series, do you?” Bailey asks, her eyes looking up at Neil imploringly. 

Neil about answers the way he normally would but when he looks down at her and sees the earnest expression she’s wearing, he doesn’t have it in him to be an asshole. 

“No, it’s not that bad,” he lies and feels his heart flutter when she shoots him a beaming smile in return. 

He thinks he can stand mediocre cinema for her sake. 

[sgiandubh]

It's all fake, anyway

Oh, my. The last two or three video snippets in Marina del Rey. The revolt. The pearl-clutching. The hate.

Again, you know nothing, Jon Snow. It's all about the medium being the message, again: carefully calibrated snippets of information, destined to a captive, deeply divided and (how can I put that without sounding offending, I wonder) unexperimented (yes, that's decent enough) audience.

During the last 24 hours, we've got the Marina del Rey gin promo & MPC teambuilding (hardly an orgy, btw) and C's MUA (or is it hairdresser? irrelevant) hinting on Instagram about a photoshoot at a gin distillery in a #beautifullocation, somewhere on Earth, presumably in Scotland - given her last IG follow. No further details, of course. Very probably a (late-) latergram, too, when she finally got the green light to publish it. Implying nothing, but leaving a boulevard bandwidth for people to infer whatever suits their own narrative. Expect FMN news soon? I highly doubt that and stand corrected: the last photoshoot (with McSideburns, in London) was on May 3rd, when she needed to somehow show the world the Two of Them were continents apart. Identical modus operandi. And always, always via tertiary players.

As for the Marina del Rey teambuilding, if you think that is 'S living his life' you are: a) living in a remote mountain/island area or under a rock; b) an impenitent Mordorian with an agenda to boot or c) incredibly incompetent with the way of the world (or at least, that world). Allow me to translate?

It is alcohol promo, duckies, disguised as teambuilding. The intended message is aimed at a younger, non-OL related audience (as I already warned you) and it roughly goes like this:

'we are a fun loving, no nonsense, start-up business in the spirits industry. Because we don't have a huge advertising budget, we're testing the waters with a cheap, reality-TV snippet to better evaluate the number of social media clicks and new followers and help gauge & calibrate the next step'.

Was it poorly executed? Yeah, you could say that, but then what to do, in a very restrictive, highly regulated tobacco & spirits advertising market, hum? Is it my cup of tea? I don't drink, therefore this type of message touches one ball without really moving the other.

Yes. Start-up business: if we take into account the COVID logistic delay, I believe we're still in that three-years frame. And this detail is essential in order to put context around a very forgettable snippet. Selling a brand-new, more democratic product. Selling it clumsily, in an effort to build relevance, because even bad advertising is, ultimately, good advertising. But make no mistake: it's nothing more than that and it is all they can do, in the current context.

This brings to mind another aspect of the charade, namely the fact that after the Remarkable Week-end (and with the exception of some carefully scripted 'slips'), released and available information progressively became (at least) two-tiered.

First tier: information carefully calibrated for immediate release and general consumption, primarily but not exclusively by the fandom. This includes: spirits shilling, innuendos galore, look-here-not-there latergrams. It also entails less direct interaction with the fans on socials and delegating the media management to secondary players (often called to the rescue, too).

Second tier: public information with a limited availability (you have to take the plunge and pay), for sleuths able and willing to go the extra mile. They paint a very different landscape. And draw two copycat timelines of people who are investing, buying and selling property and overall branching out of their primary source of income with a plan.

I am not a photo sleuth. But with a little bit of time on my hands, I am a decent paperwork analyst. Accounting is not my forte, but legal and business is. I saw what I needed to see and it holds.

So before you start screeching (bad idea, right?), remember this (credit given to @dillon7fan, thanks):

Not really: it is doctored make believe. Bless your heart, honest guy.

Next stop, Tehran. Yes, you read that correctly.

This evening or tomorrow, at the latest. Because context is everything and this fandom severely fails at this.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA If I told my neighbour (40 F) to stop sending her kid (9 M) to my (24 M) house whenever I come home?

Long story short last summer I was an unemployed grad student who wanted to make some extra cash. I am a certified swim instructor, so I decided to run some lessons for the neighbourhood kids out of my parents’ backyard. I advertised around and I got a few bites and I ended up doing fairly well for myself between my classes at Uni, with around 7 different family’s joining my lessons.

Well now I’ve graduated and I’ve started a career job around 2 hours away. This summer I have been coming home almost every weekend so I can see my family and use the pool, which has been a really nice break from the city.

The problem is this kid (who is honestly a really great kid, and I don’t fault him) whose mother is using me like a free babysitter. Whenever I come home (i.e. whenever they can see my car in the driveway) the kiddo comes over so say hi, and asks if he can hang out. I kind of assume the poor guy doesn’t have a lot of friends, and I’m worried that if I tell him no I’ll really hurt his feelings.

The first time I texted his mom to make sure she knew where he was and if she was ok with him being in my house. She said yes and asked me if that was ok with me, and I said it was cool. We mainly played some age appropriate video games, and chatted, and I made sure my mother was in the room with us the whole time (because I honestly feel a bit awkward and I don’t want to be seen as a creep or anything). I sent him home and I was happy that I could make him feel a bit better, but then the next time I came home he was there again. And then again. And then again.

It’s getting to the point where it feels very inappropriate. I would never do anything to hurt a kid, but I keep feeling more nervous that this could be misconstrued as some kind of grooming. I see him a lot like my little cousin (7 M) and I want him to be happy, but I’m just not feeling comfortable with the situation. I also feel like I’m being taken advantage of, because his parents keep letting him come over, sometimes for multiple hours at a time, without asking and with no warning, and of course no pay for what is technically babysitting.

I really don’t want to hurt the little guys feelings, but this last time I was home without my parents and I just got out of the pool so I was in my swim trunks. I didn’t want to turn him away but I also didn’t want him to stay because of the way it looked. I didn’t know what to say so we hung out for a bit in my front yard (in clear view of the whole neighbourhood) and chatted for a bit before I sent him home.

It’s getting very disruptive because I feel like I can’t have a few drinks with my buddies just in case this kid comes over and I need to pull out my camp counsellorsona, and again it’s not like I’m getting paid. To be blunt, I want to be able to relax.

He’s moving away in a few months, so I figured it wouldn’t matter for much longer anyhow, but after this last time I really don’t know anymore.

I have a hard time saying no to anyone, but it’s especially hard to tell this little kid no to his face when he comes to my door so excited to see me, so WIBTA to text his mom and tell her not to let him come over again? I really don’t want to hurt his feelings, and I really don’t want his mom to tell him I don’t want to see him again, but I’m running low on options here. I’m uncomfortable and frustrated, and I don’t know what to do here.

What are these acronyms?

[theprettynosferatu]

I

The gigantic metal beast landed with a thud. Not the most graceful of homecomings, thought the handler. It didn’t matter, of course. No damage to the mech, four enemies down, a few needless but thrilling maneuvers for the video drone capturing every moment. A successful mission any way one cut it. The handler looked up from the screens, towards the solid, tangible reality of his ward.

Even after years together, even after a hundred missions, the sight never failed to impress. Himiko emerged from the cockpit drenched in sweat, every curve of her body glistening under the hangar lights. She stretched. This was a performance too, even if she didn’t know it. Her booty shorts and miniscule top were as much a necessity as an asset, and her “dismounts” were something of a phenomenon among the viewers. 

Every second in the cockpit was filmed, every motion in combat captured from several angles, every landing documented to be masterfully edited and broadcast to the population. She was a soldier on two fronts: fighting the rebellion while also being someone the company could parade in front of everyone, someone people could root for, someone they could obsess over. Better to have them focused on her skin, those shorts, her beautiful face. Even her mech, the Enkidu, was part of her brand: it was an older model, a classic -or a relic, depending on one’s point of view- that tended to be particularly punishing for pilots. The goddamn thing was an oven, relying on overheating systems for sudden bursts of enhanced performance with minimal heat dispersal to spare the operator. Hence, booty shorts and top. The effect was simple, eloquent: she was a warrior, an underdog willing to do whatever it took to destroy a more advanced enemy. Underdogs were good. People cheered for them. 

The handler shuddered. If Himiko knew he had been the one to suggest her brand…

Well, there were many things Himiko didn’t know, and every asset needed a brand, a simple phrase that could be marketed, displayed, sold. “Sexy, rebellious underdog”. Everything orbited that one concept. Her clothing, her public appearances, even her fighting style. She was as artificial as her mech and didn’t even know it. Damn it.

The handler chased the feeling away. Things would be worse for Himiko without him. He was good to her. Hell, compared to other handlers he was downright angelic, if the stories were true. Even the whole “underdog” gimmick was… mild, next to what other pilots were saddled with. The company had to cater to many tastes, after all. “Ruthless, cold bombshell”. “Cheery, optimistic angel”. “Seductive, psychotic killer”. A pilot for every desire, and joint missions were true events, advertised and promoted with taglines like “...But can they work together?”, or “Angel and Demon together!”. The strategic purpose of such missions was a secondary priority, if it was a priority at all.

Yes, “rebellious underdog” wasn’t that bad, all things considered. The handler went down to the launching bay.  

“I fucked up with that second mech”

“It still went down, didn’t it?”

“Messed up my aim. I Could have downed him quicker. Fuck!”

Himiko was one of the few pilots allowed to swear. It fit her brand. Well, truth was Himiko was one of the few pilots able to swear, but that wasn’t something the handler liked to think about.

“May I shower?”, she asked.

“You may”, he replied.

Himiko flashed him a quick smile and headed for her quarters. The handler watched her leave. He wondered, as he had done so many times before, if he was the only one that could see something between sadness and rage in her eyes.

II

“We were going with something like… ‘Guts and Glamour’, when the op was just Himiko and Adrian, but now that Ruby’s part of the whole thing…”, said the handler.

“‘Guts and Glamour’? Really?”, scoffed Mark.

“You know them marketing boys like their alliteration, Mark. We work with what we got”, added Katrina, a bit offended.

‘Guts and Glamour’ had been her idea, in fact. A bit on the facile side, but the handler had to admit his partner had nailed it on the head. Katrina was rough, but one of the best, after all: that was why she had been saddled with Adrian. “Vain, cocksure prettyboy”, had been the concept and the pilot delivered in spades, which was a blessing and a curse. He was easy to hate as much as he was easy to desire. The company liked to try some “hate that you love them” concepts every now and then. They thought it was a complex character. A pain in the ass for a handler, that’s what it was. Sometimes the public saw their skills and were won over. Other times…

Well, tragic deaths were quite moving too.

Ruby, on the other hand, was a tried and true idea. Fiery, sexy redhead. Not much to do with that, but her genetics did the heavy lifting. Something for the basic teen boys.

“Right, right. Well, Maybe we can keep it. Ruby’s glamorous too”, said Mark.

“Nah. Won’t work. Three pilots, ain’t it? We need three keywords, short, punchy. And I don’t think we have a third ‘G’ word to throw in there. And Ruby has… no offense, but I wouldn’t call it glamour, exactly. I mean, not your fault, bud. But…”, trailed off Katrina.

“No offense taken. We aren’t shooting for high class with Ruby. What you see is what you get, pretty much. And she loves to let people see”, replied Mark.

“You sure got lucky with the whole heat gimmick, right? Himiko can show off and still come across as tough”

It took a moment for the handler to realize Katrina was talking to him. He poured himself another drink, and saw the other two handlers onscreen joining him in a toast across space.

“I guess”, mumbled the handler.

“You know, I don’t know what’s better: fucking the hot redhead everyone thinks is slutty, or being the only one that knows how freaky the rebel girl can get”, giggled Mark.

“Come on, man. That’s the kind of joke that gives handlers a bad rep”, said the handler.

Silence stretched, infinite, plastic.

“Don’t bullshit a bullshitter, man. You tapped that, and you know it”, retorted Mark.

“Say what you will about Adrian, but he makes up for his preening with some stamina”, said Katrina.

“Stop it. It’s not funny”, muttered the handler, shifting in his seat.

“We’re not being funny. This shit ain’t for broadcast, pal. Save the PC shit for official events. It’s just us shooting the shit, here”, said Katrina.

“Wait. You don’t really… you know…”

“Fuck my pilot? Eight days a week, cowboy. Jesus, are you bullshitting me right now? It’s like, the one benefit we have. Sure, it’s not on the fucking brochures, but come on! We have genetically enhanced clones that are programmed to obey and designed to be hot! You think the company doesn’t know what’s bound to happen? Nature’s gonna nature, I say. And it’s not like they’re… people-people, you know?” said the woman on the screen.

“They’re clones, sure, but… they’re still people”, said the handler.

“You mean to say you never thought about it?”, asked Mark.

“Think about it… I mean, I guess. Like… you can have fantasies about anyone, right? But fantasies are one thing and… doing shit is another”, said the handler.

Katrina laughed.

“So let me get this straight: you’re all alone in your compartment, jerkin’ it to a girl that’s right fucking there, next door over, and who would do whatever you told her to do if only you had the balls to command her? God, that’s pathetic. You have a feast in front of ya and keep eating those saltine crackers from ration packs, honey. Okay, real talk: are you gay, or ace, or…”

“No. Bi, actually”, said the handler in anger. “Doesn’t mean it isn’t wrong to…”

“See, I think I get the issue. I’ve seen it a couple of times. Clones are not like you and me. Clones obey. And they don’t feel bad about it, because they can’t not obey, feel me? It’s just the way they’re made, you know? She wouldn’t feel violated or… I don’t know, used. Not in any degree above what happens whenever you send her on a mission. She’s designed for it. It’s all she knows and all she can know. And if we are being honest… let me ask you a question: are you scared for her when it looks like a mission is gonna go tits up? Are you anxious when you give her a combat plan and don’t know if it’s the best course of action?”, asked Mark.

“Of course”

“Me too. Every single time Ruby goes inside that mech I’m sweating bullets. I care about her. It’s my job to make her thrive, man. That’s what we do. You know who’s never scared going into combat? Ruby, or Adrian, or Himiko. Can you imagine that? Climbing into a big ass combat mech and not being terrified? But they’re not like us, and you know what? I kinda envy them. They are at peace. They have their missions, and the complete, unshakable focus to do their best every time. Combat, a photoshoot, an ad… same to them. Just missions. They don’t have to make choices, or suffer the pangs of uncertainty. There’s something beautiful there. A purity. They are what they are, do what they’re assigned to do, and those two things are the same thing. They have clarity of purpose. They’re not burped into existence like the rest of us. And when I tell Ruby to wrap her huge tits around my cock and get me off, it’s another mission to her. Nothing more, nothing else. You ask me, they’re the lucky ones. So, word of advice: care for your pilot. But don’t fall for her. ‘Cause you’d be falling for a shadow”. Said Mark between drinks.

The meeting went on. The handler didn’t really pay attention to whatever title they had decided to give their joint mission in the end. 

III

The mission had been a success. In the end the marketing people had decided to play up the “one guy, two girls” angle. Would love blossom on the battlefield? The people saw Ruby saving Adrian from a cowardly sneak attack. The flirting had been heavy and constant. Of course, Ruby had made no such heroic save, but editing could perform miracles. 

The handler was glad Himiko hadn’t been picked to move the romance plot forward. Sure, affairs between pilots existed only for the cameras, in parades and interviews, but still. Himiko’s brand wasn’t appropriate for such things. But if he was being honest, it wasn’t the sanctity of the image that bothered him. He had been with Himiko from the beginning. He had designed her brand, advised on her fighting style, added flair and soul to the character. Himiko belonged to the company, sure, but in a creative way, Himiko was his. The strong girl in the posters and vids, the firebrand adored by millions… he had created that, as much as the geeks at the genetic farms. Perhaps even more.

The handler couldn’t say when he had gotten out of bed and walked out of his room. He found himself in the hallway, steps away from the pilot’s compartment. She -it- would be there. His creation. His product. Hours of work, gallons of sweat and tears and anxiety and effort put into her… into making her a phenomenon, beloved by millions. And what did he get? He was anonymous. He was a shadow- worse, a shadow of a shadow, unrecognized, unrewarded.  

The door slid shut and Himiko went instantly to her feet. Pilots were light sleepers by design, always ready. They slept in the nude, so they could get into their outfits instantly. Shame was not something they felt, less of all in front of their handlers.

“Do we have a mission?”, she asked.

The handler paused, entranced by the soft curves of her pilot. It didn't matter how much he saw of her, it always made an impact somewhere primal, deep inside his soul. No, not her. The product, he reminded himself. The word escaped his lips before he could stop it.

“Kneel”

There was a moment there, barely longer than a lightning strike. Himiko’s eyes flashed with confusion, a hint of outrage, and then set on complete, focused determination as she went down on her knees. She looked up at the handler, ready to obey. The handler felt almost drunk, giddy. So many men and women looked up to this girl, adored her, saw her as a role model and object of desire… and now she looked up at him. It was intoxicating.

“Remove my underwear”

She did so with the efficiency of a close quarters combat expert. He barely had to shift to let her cast the fabric aside. One part of him couldn’t believe it was this easy, even as inside him a quieter, stifled side of himself screamed. It was too late to go back.

“Suck my cock”

What followed was akin to vertigo, beyond anything he had ever felt before. He couldn’t stop himself from closing his eyes. The handler wasn’t a virgin, but he might as well have been. Himiko took to her mission with the zeal and determination of a true warrior, changing speeds, pressure, angle, using her tongue, her lips, her throat. The handler felt something in the base of his spine, an orgasm building from somewhere deeper than anything he had experienced in his life. Overcome by the maelstrom of sensation, he had for a moment forgotten what was happening, sent hurling away from reality by the pilot’s skills. His eyes snapped open.

He saw Himiko. Strong, fierce Himiko. Her expression was one he had seen a thousand times in the cockpit, the focus of an operator in that special zone where only the mission existed, where only her objective mattered. He saw a programmed response, and a reminder of what she really was. Of what he was doing.

“Stop”, he muttered. She instantly did. He caught his breath.

“Could you… could you pretend to enjoy it? Like… like you… want me?” God, he felt pathetic. The feeling, however, lasted only a second. Himiko smiled, a smile no one had ever seen before, a smile that didn’t fit any poster or propaganda piece. It was mischievous, flirty, like they were accomplices in a secret, loving affair. It didn’t matter that it wasn’t real. She made it feel real to him.

She made him feel special.

Suddenly there was a sense of fun, of warmth to her actions. She moaned and purred with every lick, teasing him, smiling and biting her lips, making him feel as if for that moment his pleasure was her pleasure, that he was all that existed, that his cock was the most beautiful, most entrancing thing in the universe. His moans mixed with hers as she worshiped him with her mouth, her hands, her breasts. It was sex and devotion, fun and partnership, lust and love. It was too easy to believe it all, too perfect to resist. The handler wanted the moment to last, forever if at all possible. When he told Himiko to get on the bed, she leaped in joy and looked at him as she stretched on the mattress, eyes full of anticipation, a teasing challenge to her lover. 

He dove into her arms. He kissed her stomach, her perfect thighs, her neck. He wanted her, wanted to devour her, to be with her and for her to be his, totally and completely. He wanted them to belong to each other, to seal a partnership that had, in his mind, been growing for years. Her shallow breathing, her whimpers and soft moans begged him to do it, to take what was rightfully his. His hand softly caressed the inside of her thigh, barely touching it, moving upwards slowly, savoring every second. When he felt the wetness between her legs, he couldn’t help but wonder if that too was a conditioned response. He pushed the thought aside and let himself drown in her lips.

She was tight, and he managed to stop himself, teasing her clit. He didn’t want to hurt her. It occurred to him that Himiko was, in fact, a virgin. He would be careful. He would be gentle. He would take it slow. 

But she was a warrior on a mission. 

“Do it”, she said, panting. “Take me. Fuck me. Use me! I’ve seen you looking at me… my ass, my tits, my face… they’re all yours. Yours. Stop being a pussy and fucking ram that big cock inside me! I want it… I want you to treat me like your whore, your toy, whatever the fuck you want… just give me that cock! Please!”

The handler didn’t know if Himiko had been studying him, gathering information for precisely such an event, but it didn’t really matter. She knew exactly what to say, exactly how to say it, with a mixture of begging and demanding, commanding and submissive at the same time. She knew what to say to blow away any lingering hesitation, to obliterate any morality that might be holding him back. He entered her with fury, with anger, with lust, with the strength of years of repressed emotions and confused feelings behind him. Her legs surrounded him, brought him closer as she came with a melody of moans and tiny screams. Her nails dig into his back. The pain was the one thing that kept him from cumming. Had that been luck or a calculated move on her part?

With all her martial skill, she reversed positions and got on top. 

“My turn”, she smiled.

He had fantasized about this moment for years. Himiko showed him just how limited his imagination was. She was mercurial, flowing from one position to another, from one attitude to another. She was whimpering and fighting against her own pleasure one moment, pinning him down and riding him with a wicked smile the next; she feigned innocence on second and then delivered babbling, perverted barrages of dirty talk without missing a beat. She made the bed feel like a playground where everything went, everything was allowed. She made him feel safe. Wanted. 

Eventually, exhaustion got the better of him. Unlike Himiko, he was a simple handler, not a trained fighter. He fell asleep in her arms, postponing the inevitable reckoning with what he had done for a handful of peaceful, perfect hours.

IV

The handler called in every favor he had. Burned a few bridges, too. It was necessary, he told himself. It was for Himiko, he told himself. It was the right thing to do, he told himself. Anything to make the voice inside his head shut up for a few seconds. 

As a handler he had access to general genetic records: after all, he needed to know what his pilot was capable of, what enhancements had been made to her. There were other bits of information, however, that only the people at the genetic farms had and guarded jealously. But after a solid two weeks of begging, threatening and cajoling, he had managed to get a copy of what he needed, an answer to the question that had been tormenting him- and now he lingered, too scared to open the files. 

Himiko was a clone. But somewhere out there there was an original. Or maybe there had been one, long ago. Whoever Himiko was made from was probably an old woman living in secluded luxury. That was the standard deal: a comfortable life of complete anonymity for the donors. They were usually athletes, sometimes models or soldiers, sometimes people with very specific characteristics that might appeal in a pilot, given a few adjustments. The handler didn’t know what would be worse: to find out the original was out in the world, or to find out Himiko’s genes had been taken from an old blueprint and the original had passed away. He just knew he needed to know, because Himiko deserved to know. Not that the pilot had asked, of course. But he needed to… do something for her. Yes, do something big for Himiko. That would make the voice shut the hell up.

He opened the files and started reading, a terrible dread growing in his chest.

Sample obtained through Rebirth Protocol.

It was there in black and white: a rumor discarded by almost everyone, embraced only by the most fringe of lunatics. And it was real. The Rebirth Protocol. Forced acquisition of samples from captured rebels before their executions.

Himiko’s original had never lived a life of peace and comfort. She had been a rebel. A fighter, like her clone. One battling the company at every turn, transformed into an obedient asset in an act of perverted, vengeful poetry. And he had been complicit. He had made Himiko one of the most recognizable faces of the company, a key pillar in its efforts in the battlefield and in the war on the minds of the people.    

The handler threw up. He copied the files to his personal device, shaking. He could feel his determination wavering. No. He had to show her, and he had to show her immediately.

Himiko smiled as he entered. The handler felt terrible for issuing that particular order. Knowing what he knew, the smile felt like a dagger. 

“Himiko, look at this”, he said, pulling up the files on the screen. It was all there. Himiko’s original name. Pictures taken during captivity. Video of her flying a rebel mech. He looked at the pilot. Something was stirring inside her, he knew it.

“She looks like me”, muttered Himiko.

“She is you. In a manner of speaking. But… you were…”

“I was a rebel. I… Permission to speak freely?”

“Granted! Fucking granted!”

“I feel… something. Anger… no, not anger. It’s more… righteous. A fire. We… I… refused. Refused to be under the boot of the company… we… there was more to life. More to being a person than just working and consuming and… Why? Why do I remember these things?”

“I’m not sure. If you were a rebel pilot, it’s possible they copied not just your DNA but some of your neural pathway patterns, to transfer combat experience into… your new self. Maybe she… you, the real you… is still in there somewhere. Kei. Your name was Kei”

Himiko was crying without moving a muscle. Tears rolled down her perfect face.

“Kei…” she muttered.

“You are Kei”

“I am…”

An eternal pause.

“I am Himiko, pilot for the company”, came the emotionless response.

“No! You don’t have to be! You were a proud fighter and can be that again! We can… we can leave. We can escape, together. Disappear. Go to some forgotten corner of the galaxy, and…”

“Pilots are not allowed to travel without company authorization”

The handler stormed out of the room.

Sleepless nights on unauthorized communication channels, places where the company couldn’t snoop. Editors uploaded outtakes of pilots messing up, or candid footage of pilots in showers and locker rooms. Handlers shared the… art they had compelled their pilots to make, a notion he would have refused to believe not long before. Gene freaks debated new techniques, mulled over the possibilities of more extreme genetic modification. And the handler read it all, looking for the answer to a singular question: was there a way to break the conditioning?

He wasn’t the first handler to wonder that, he discovered. A few before him had been shouted down, accused of being potential rebels. Some had gotten tidbits of information, ways in which perhaps, in theory, the compulsions could be lessened, if not erased entirely.

He tried them all. Flashing lights. Shock diet. Memory regression. Hypnosis. More and more Himiko was becoming like her other self, like Kei. And yet, after every attempt, he issued a single command.

“Slap yourself”

She did so. Every single time.

“I’m sorry”, she said.

He was on his knees, his head on her lap, sobbing. It was pointless. The company had her, and by having her, they had him. There would be no escaping, no happy ending in their own secluded corner of the world. Only dreaming.

Maybe dreaming wasn’t so bad. One could get lost in a beautiful dream. Perhaps even forget it was a dream, every now and then. That was the best they could hope for: to steal small moments of counterfeit happiness from a world too miserly, too cruel to allow the real thing to thrive. Didn’t Himiko deserve those moments, that respite? Didn’t he deserve them too?

Defeated, he rose to his feet. The handler looked at the pilot’s sad eyes.

“Himiko… love me”, he commanded. 

Did you enjoy this story? You can support my work at patreon.com/prettynosferatu

[dimbulb0]

Cassie said over the phone that she had outgrown her bra again, but there was something in her voice that hinted she was hiding something. When you got home from work that afternoon, you heard her giggling in the bedroom. "All right," you said. "Let's see what ha--" Cassie was sitting on the edge of the bed--or at least someone with the face of Cassie. She was almost completely naked, save for a few straining stitches of black lingerie. Her breasts had become two globes of flesh that bulged from every angle and had to have been at least a hundred pounds each. Her hips were enormous, so large that they looked like they couldn't fit through the bedroom door without scraping both sides. Her legs were as thick as tree trunks and seemed to go on forever. "Holy shit!" you exclaimed. "Thank god," she said. "You're finally home!" You stared at the woman--no, monster--in shock. You'd never seen anything like it before; not even the most insane pornography videos could come close to conveying just how much bigger your wife had gotten since this morning. Cassie had always been obsessed over her breasts. Although she had proudly flaunted her C cups whenever she could, she had wanted to go up a few sizes for years. The clinic she went to yesterday advertised natural breast enhancement, but this was far from natural. "What happened!? Did you call the clinic?" "No, why would I? Just look how big my boobs have gotten." She patted one for effect. "But… but… you're eight feet tall!" Cassie rolled her eyes. "No I'm not." She stood up, as if to prove her point--and up--and up! You tried to hold your ground, but her sheer enormity caused you to step back as she reached full height. Her head was an inch away from the ceiling. She looked around the room in awe of her new perspective. "Oh! I didn't even notice." "What do you mean you didn't notice? Look at you. How could you not have known?" "You don't understand," Cassie said. "My breasts feel so good every time they grow, it's all I can think about. I guess the rest of me was growing, too." Your brain struggled to process what she was saying. When she came home yesterday, she was noticeably larger chest-wise, but only by a few cup sizes. You both had a good (and sexy) time having her try on her old bras and seeing how much she had outgrown them. Her new bras were all even a little bit too big, but she said that she might still grow a little bit as a side-effect of the treatment. Now, one of those new bras was close to exploding. "Every time? How many times has it happened?" "I tried to hold back, but--" she let slip a small sigh. "But I couldn't help myself. I wanted to wait so you could see . . ." "How many times?" you asked again. ". . . but now that you're here . . ." She tore off one of the remaining cups on her bra, baring one monstrous tit, and groped as much flesh as she could. She grew. Her breasts were already so gigantic that the first thing you noticed was Cassie's head bumping into the ceiling. The whole house shuddered. She gave herself another squeeze and her boobs finally grew enough to completely rend what was left of her top. "Yes . . ." she hissed as she grew bigger in pulsing waves of growth. "More!" You began to back away as Cassie's massive breasts, free from their confines, began to loom higher and higher over you. "Stop! You'll outgrow the house!" Just before you turned and ran, you caught sight of the hungry look in her eyes. "Think of how big my breasts will be by then!" she moaned, crouching down as she gained another foot in height . . .

*****

Made with NovelAI. Prompt: giantess, tall woman, sitting on bed, legs spread, growing bigger, curvy, sexy, torn bra, towering, heavy, filling, squashed, titanic, laughing, too big, squeezing

[chaifootsteps]

well that Hazbin Hotel announcement video just dropped and I have feelings-

cause on one hand I still want to be proven wrong about it and have this show be enjoyable and fun- I still want Viv to improve and actually grow as a person and a writer- but it’s really hard after everything that’s happened involving the run of Helluva

as a critic who enjoys *enjoying* media I am worried, basically

also was it just me or did that announcement feel a bit condescending? With the “no, seriously” and “[and] guess what, bitches” after everything else these last few years just feels like a slap in the face to anyone who is critical of Viv and was concerned about how little Hazbin was talked about and advertised. Especially with people not thinking it would get a season two, it just feels like Viv taking this as an opportunity to be a bit hoity toity about it (that is if she has any hand in this announcement video)

idk some of the animation looks nice given Viv’s designs and I’m gonna hope for the best but prepare my documents to start writing analyses on a show with a messy production.

I think one possibility is that the show might actually be good. I certainly don't have high hopes, but it might be, especially if A24's been holding Vivzie's hand/telling her "no" along the way. Sometimes reprehensible people do create good things.

But...yeah, really don't think it will be. For people who would give Vivzie 6/10 stars if she kicked them in the mouth yes, but for the rest of us, those leaks just don't bode well.

And you weren't the only one; that announcement was insufferably smarmy and condescending. There's not a whole lot of information about the actual show in it, so she essentially kept people waiting four years just to squander it on "Suck it, haters." Oh Vivzie, you never change.

[spacevixenmusic]

Unfairly Maligned Games, Vol. 1

Games I loved that got low scores, review bombed, or have some other weird negative stigma attached to them that I think is unfairly earned.

NOTE: I don't believe in giving games a number score or a letter grade. Maybe I'm just bad at criticism or very easy to please, whatever.

Battleborn [2016]

One of my personal favorite games of all time, Battleborn was advertised as a hero-based PVP shooter with MOBA mechanics that unfortunately came out right alongside one of the biggest games of the PVP shooter genre ever released (Overwatch). Thanks to this poor timing, Battleborn - along with several other similar but different games - was doomed to failure, choked to death by Blizzard's infinite marketing resources and predatory Free Play Weekends that just mysteriously happened to occur on the same weekends as its "competitors" major updates, DLC releases, promo events, etc. Battleborn is no longer available to play ANYWHERE as of January 2021; so few people played it after it was review bombed as "the game your mom bought you when you asked for Ovewatch for xmas" (yes Blizz fans used that fucking Simpsons meme TO DEATH, it's their one joke they have about Battleborn) that the game's servers had to be shuttered so the money could be funneled into Gearbox's much bigger cash cow release at the time, Borderlands 3.

Sour grapes aside, Battleborn was in many ways the game that many people actually wish Overwatch was now. In addition to the PVP game, Battleborn had a co-op campaign mode - complete with a story, cutscenes, and unique character dialogue depending on who you brought to each mission - which could be played for character XP (ability tree unlocks), random gear loot (for use in either campaign mode or PVP), and character cosmetics. The 30 playable characters were wildly varied in terms of design and gameplay, and yes I have to point it out every time, Battleborn had both "cute tiny animal in a mech suit" and playable black women BEFORE Overwatch did. The game also featured a very impressive and highly slept-on visual aesthetic that felt like every Saturday Morning Cartoon I ever grew up with from the 80s/90s, featuring a wild blend of 3D and 2D animation that all the other hero PVP games WISH they could have matched.

And damn, dude. If you like Lore in your video games, there was a TON of material written for this one. And I'm not just talking about supplemental media like a comic or a wiki or an interview about cut content or whatever. I mean there was a metric FUCK TON of additional world-building material right there in the game. Each character came with a set of challenges you could complete which would give you the usual XP and money, but also unlocked a fun little tidbit of Lore about the universe. These came in the form of short stories, recorded conversations, email logs, forum posts, shipping manifests, and even fully voiced segments explaining details about each character, who they were, why they were fighting this war, and some fun little ways of explaining how their weapons or abilities worked. For example, Reyna holds her laser pistol on its side, gangster-style, because she wanted to use a very specific gun model, had its internal parts stripped out so she could use an ammo clip of a much stronger caliber than that model was supposed to be capable of, but in order for the chamber to reload correctly, the gun had to sit a bit cockeyed. And that fun little nugget is just sitting there, right in the game, for you to discover! It's fucking cool as hell!

Now I know you're itching to make a joke about there only being like 15 people who even played the game. Yes, I've seen the Active Player Steam charts meme. It's true, Battleborn had a very small, but also very dedicated, community. Despite that, there were so few people playing that we all ended up making friends with each other pretty quickly. It was one of the friendliest PVP communities I'd ever been a part of. We knew there weren't many people online, so we created an environment that felt comfortable for players new and veteran alike. Many of us are still friends today, outside of the game. Because there were so few people online, we also got to play regularly with Gearbox devs and game writers, and even one of the voice actors responsible for at least three of the game's characters (plus a few NPCs!). We organized and hosted our own events, got official backing from the devs for Double XP weekends, held art jams and hashtag celebrations. Hell, I even used my love of this game to jumpstart my serious foray into music by making an entire album of songs for its characters (complete with a bunch of commissioned fan art from the community)!

(art by Leaddybum)

So yeah. Rest in peace, Battleborn. You were ahead of your time and the hate and harassment you got from The Gamers was completely undeserved. I will always keep hope alive that you'll come back to us some day. Maybe as a sequel, maybe in a new format. There was so much more left to explore in that universe.

May our battle never end.

[lurkingteapot]

Thai BL Favorites Tag Game

Tagged by @lurkingshan, @ginnymoonbeam, @incandescentflower and @recentadultburnout! Created by @thatgirl4815 as Thai BL Favorites Tag Game, and that's the name I'm playing it under because, a) well, it's all BL on my particular list, it'd feel disingenious to call it anything else except maybe Y Series because we're talking Thai audiovisual media specifically and b) I'm not entirely comfortable with the unilateral renaming of a genre which which originated and grew into its current forms in another cultural context. Don't get me wrong, I made the jump from calling it Yaoi to Boys Love to BL in the 1990s and 2000s; I know to say danmei and dangai (or boy boy) when talking about it in context of media from China/Taiwan, or Y series when talking about it in Thai. If fans and markets in the communities of origin change the names again, so will I. But for now I'm sticking with the term BL. Thanks for understanding.

Favorite Thai BL: @lurkingshan makes a great point with best vs favourite, and her contenders are also mine – is ITSAY my favourite? is Bad Buddy? I suppose if we go by times rewatched, Bad Buddy takes the crown; if it's "what do I rec other people with the least amount of caveats", ITSAY wins.

Current obsession: Laws of Attraction, with Be My Favourite as a close second.

Favorite pairing: I don't particularly like this type of industrially-pushed shoehorning of actors together as a general rule (let's not pretend Julia Roberts and Richard Gere or Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire weren't also a kind of fixed ship, and I know the Philippines does a similar thing with their (mostly het) love teams – this is not Thai BL exclusive, at least historically speaking), but it clearly sells, so I don't think the industry's going to move away from this model for a long while yet.

That said: tough, but I think it'll have to be Billkin and PP. Just. Look at them act together. Look. Whether it's ITSAY/LTIP/IPYTM and related material, or one of the advertisement shorts or the incredible music videos from last year or even My Ambulance – they're just. So!!!!

Most underrated actor: Fiat Patchata. Give that boy a main role, goddamnit.

Favorite main character: quoting @lurkingshan here:

Teh, I Told Sunset About You and I Promised You the Moon. Yes, both shows, and before you all come yell at me: I SAID WHAT I SAID. 

because she's not the only one who loves this disaster of a boy.

Favorite side character: I really loved the friend group in Secret Crush on You, and Tin's friends in Triage.

Favorite scene in a BL: There are so many to choose from, but I'm going to go with the bus stop scene in Bad Buddy ep 3. The way brick shithouse Pat, all 180some beefy adolescent centimetres of him, turns himself into a cute girl at the drop of a hat … that rewired something in me, had me sit up and take notice (and block the Bad Buddy air time slot in my work calendar for the remain of the show's run time). Because they took it seriously. Didn't play it for laughs.

Favorite line in a BL: oh, there are so many. But I guess if we want to go with largest impact on me, personally, I'm gonna go with Thian in Khun Chaai going "May I love you, Jiu?" because. whew. That just hit me right in the feels.

Most anticipated BL (& why): Only Friends and Love in Translation. Only Friends because it looks to shake up a lot of the things we're used to from GMMTV in particular – I know we've had a little bit of flirting outside of the fixed ships this year already in Moonlight Chicken and Our Skyy 2, but if Jojo is going to shake it up more I'm very, very here for that. Love in Translation because the Thai title is รักไม่รู้ภาษา "Love doesn't know language" and languages are my jam.

Healthiest relationship in a BL: I don't really enjoy thinking about relationships in these terms because it just … urgh. I don't care if it's ''''healthy'''' (and seriously, who gets to decide what is and what isn't healthy, anyway? and why are we making this a moral judgement?)

Questions I do ask about relationships: Is the relationship compelling? is it believable? do the people involved behave like they don't only love and desire, but also like each other as people? that's what I want to know.

Most toxic relationship in a BL: see above. 

Ginny suggested Relationship dynamic I would most like to have myself: and Relationship dynamic I would least like to have myself: to replace the "healthy" and "toxic" questions and I think that's fantastic, but I'm honestly blanking on both so I'm skipping this part.

Guilty pleasure series: I like what I like, I don't see a reason to feel bad about that.

Most underrated series: He's Coming To Me. It's such a lovely little show.

If you'd like to play, please consider yourself tagged (and feel free to tag me if/when you play -- I'd love to see!)

[artemispt]

Finally I'm doing this tag game! Thanks @insilanar and @c2-eh for the tag 💕 1. Are you named after anyone? My parents says no, but my name isn´t that common here in Portugal, so idk. The funny thing is I know why they chose my middle name. It was chosen by the aunts of my father (that I always treated like my grandparents) and it was the name of a person they worked for. Actually, they wanted my parents to name me after that person, but my mother didn't like the name, so she chose Diana and put the other name as my middle name. I already asked her if she chose Diana because of the princess, but she always says no 🤷‍♀️ 2. When was the last time you cried? I'm a very emotional person. I tear up with everything. I CRIED WATCHING ICE AGE 1. I don't remember the last time I cried sobbing and everything, but just crying I think it was when I watched ep 3 of The Last of Us (I cried more on this episode than all the others). 3. Do you have kids? No. 4. Do you use sarcasm a lot? A bit yes, but only with people I'm comfortable. And I find it easier doing it in Portuguese. I also used to write a blog (in Portuguese) and used it a lot. Sometimes I feel I've lost that ability. Have to start writing again to see. 5. What sports do you play/have played? Nothing 😂 I mean, I played sports in school. I had a mandatory subject called Physical Education. We played football, basketball, handball, voleyball, badminton... I was very bad at everything 🥲 (badminton I wasn't so bad). I loved when we had some step classes. When I finished school, I did pilates, but I think it isn't considered a sport ahahah Now I basically walk a lot.

6. What's the first thing you notice about other people? Oh, I have to think a bit. Accessories (glasses (it's not an accessory, bur oh well), rings, necklaces, earrings...) I think. Don't know why but... Also hands, hands and teeth.

7. Scary movies or happy endings? Happy endings. I really don´t like scary movies. 8. Any special talents? Hmmm, I don't think I have any. Crying watching Ice Age 1? 😂 9. Where were you born? Portugal. 10. What are your hobbies? Tumblr 😂, reading, writing (a bit on hiatus), watching things (youtube videos, tv shows, movies, f1...), be with family and friends...

11. Do you have any pets? No, but my sister has 2 cute cats 😊 12. How tall are you? 1.61m. 13. Fave subjects in school? Biology, Music (unfortunately only had 2 years), Portuguese, Arts.

14. Dream Job? I think I'm still trying to find it. Changed jobs to one I could write, but I'm still not totally happy. (I work as a copywriter. I think it's all the advertising thing that is making me meh 😒). 15. Eye colour? Brown (almost black).

Tagging @underatedwords @ehcahache @fandomchaosposts @safetycarlando @sainzcaleruega @vamossainz55 @7msc @lxndonorris @carlando @jolandax13 @lachamagaby-blog (sorry if you already done it and, of course, be free to ignore it) and everyone who sees this and wants to do it.

[bcacstuff]

I know you don’t like bashing other blogs but seriously how can all these people believe the crap spewed by P**v? His/her/their use of the word proof is so loosey goosey I can’t handle it. Not one bit of information put forth by P is proof. Not blurry Vegas pics, not furry dogs asses, not tiktoks that look similar in style, not coincidental flights to the UK. No pretend sources that say they’ve been spotted in cars, on bikes, at games or wherever. None of it would hold up in a court of law. It drives me crazy! And if you say so to her/him/whatever you get ignored or told off cause obviously I’m right. I just really needed to vent. Thank you.

Yes, I don't do that often as you know. I mean, most of the time I just think, well, what others like to fabricate is on theirs, and I still do think so. It's no better than shippers who like to see him married with xxx boos. She's writing fan fic, and perverse fan fic lately too. I've seen it all, and just shake my head.

There is not a shred of evidence that he has spent a minute with her. Okay, you can go all off on me like, how do you know, you don't know every minute of his life what he does. No, that's right, I don't know.

But truth of the matter is, all we saw were some stories of a tennis player who was heading for the BJK cup games in Glasgow, and she met KE on the flight, most likely from LHR to Glasgow. That is all we saw. Anyone could follow how he was active on sm about all Saturday and Sunday for the biggest part. Someone who claims to know him so good and follows him for all these years knows that is not his normal when with someone. I mean, just take last weekend when he was with Graham and Duncan in Edinburgh as it turns out now. He was hardly active on sm.

Then he left for Liverpool on Monday. Was working all week, his sm activity shows the pattern when he is working. Early up, posting around lunch time or 3/4pm. We saw the videos he was in, not for a couple of hours on set, but days from early morning till evening. No time for a romance during working. And from there he went to London, I think briefly. As I already posted I think he had some interview or something similar. I don't even think he spent the night but went to Edinburgh thereafter.

I know how P now claims she has her 'sources' and KE being in Mexico on her sisters bachelorette. Well, think her sources are just people who sneaked into her sisters IG, which is private. Her sister posted some videos. I've seen them all. (yes, they were sent to me, I'm not following anyone). And all I can say is it is not conclusive at all she's in Mexico. There is a woman that looks a bit like KE but in other videos I see it is not her. Well... that's all. So much for the truth! Isn't that what she is advertising? Maybe I needed to vent about it too a little. Totally unbelievable how she's spinning her narratives around and around each time. She did the same with AM and MC, and now it's just another one that isn't and never will be more than a summer fling.

[burnwater13]

Peli Motto firing a blaster rifle at the Scorpenek annihilator droids on Tatooine. Image from The Book of Boba Fett, Season 1, Episode 7, In the Name of Honor. Calendar from DataWorks.

Grogu had never realized how fierce Peli Motto was until he returned to Tatooine to find the Mandalorian. Luke’s Jedi Sleep Away Camp hadn’t been as much fun as advertised and Grogu realized that he missed the bounty hunter and his friends more than he had missed working with the Force. Peli was one of those people he really missed. 

She was always happy to see him. She made sure that he was clean and fed. She told him stories and let him play games with the pit droids. She even taught him how to cheat at… uh… play Sabacc. But his favorite memory wasn’t the one where she was shooting at the Scorpenek annihilator droids to help protect his dad and everyone else. Nope. His favorite memory was her roasting that huge haunch of Krayt dragon his dad had brought her. That seemed like forever ago.

He was explaining that all to Jon, once they were done at the privies and had finished showing him the N-1. To say the big man was impressed was an understatement. Grogu thought he was going to faint once his dad showed Jon some of the starship’s features, using R5 to demonstrate the hover mode, among other things. Jon needed to sit down and catch his breath, so they walked down the pier to the wooden benches that gave people a place to rest.

“So, tell me more about this Peli Motto character. What does he actually do?”

“She. She’s a mechanic. And a bit of a scoundrel. Whatever you do, don’t play Sabacc with her. She’ll spend your money and walk away with the winnings. But she loves Grogu and that counts for a lot.”

“It should. Our children are our future. Full of wonder. It’s why I do what I do.”

“What do?” Grogu asked. They’d talked about food and Earth and of course Nevarro and the ship, but they hadn’t talked to Jon about what he did. 

“I tell stories. Sometimes I write them. Other times I bring them to life. I’m a producer.”

Grogu exchanged a look with his dad. The only producers they knew managed a grain facility that made components of ration packs. What the heck did that have to do with storytelling?

“I don’t think we understand your term. Producers make things, like powdered grain for protein bars.”

Grogu was glad his dad had clarified it. Gal Basic was a slippery language at best and some words meant complete different concepts depending on the planet or system you visited. For example on Tzura ‘pair’ was a fruit, while everywhere else it meant two of a thing. Slippery. 

“Okay. Hmmm. I make films. You know, videos, moving pictures…”

Vids! Sure. That sounded good.

“Anything we may have heard of? Grogu is a big fan of the Diggle and Daggle series.”

“Diggle and Daggle?” 

Jon seemed baffled. Grogu was baffled. How could he not know about Diggle and Daggle? They were the most famous vids across the galaxy!

“Fish that fish.” Grogu explained.

“You watch videos of fish fishing?”

Jon definitely seemed surprised at that. 

“Educational.” Grogu explained briefly.

“Grogu can play one for you. He loves them.”

“That’s okay. I trust you. I make videos, but they are stories about love and growth and redemption. I’d be happy to show you some of them.”

Before the Mandalorian could say ‘no’, his favorite word, Grogu jumped off the bench yelling ‘Yippee’, his favorite word. 

“I guess that’s a yes. Do you have a data pad?”

Grogu’s dad must have realized that resistance was futile. They were on vacation after all. 

“No, but I have a friend who has a ranch.”

“Sounds good. If you have the coordinates, we can meet you there.”

“Give me a minute.”

Jon pulled some small device out of his pocket and began to fuss with it, while Grogu dashed over to his dad and hugged the Mandalorian’s boot. 

“Thanks, Dad.”

“Well, you know what Peli always says, don’t look a gift fathier in the muzzle. This planet’s kind of nice. I figure we can spend a couple more days here before we have to head home.”

“This is the Way”

“This is the Way”

[bedtimestoriesforbrokengirls]

when you were younger, did you ever imagine the internet growing the way it has or that you’d one day control the lives of many, have global reach, be the overlord of multiple living breathing human beings, and the founder of a cult-lite made up of who knows how many dedicated and adoring fans, all who found you through a shitty blogging website? Hell I grew up with the internet in full swing and that even seems outlandish to me

in short: how do you deal with that lol I’d be stressin

 RE: imagine the internet growing the way it has?

Depends on what part we’re looking at:

In terms of infrastructure: Up until about 2010? Yes. My early 90s vision for the internet and what it looked like in 2010 lined up pretty well. But I didn’t foresee the rise of algorithmic advertising and timelines, which was a huge miss on my part.

In terms of culture: Once upon a time, I thought the most important thing I could contribute to the world would be creating spaces for open, challenging, responsible conversation between rational adults.

But then smartphones came along… I expected the phones, but not the mass adoption of them. I expected Crackberries for semi-nerds, not iPhones for eight year olds. And suddenly the internet was flooded with, well… idiots. There had always been assholes and trolls and creeps, but they’d at least been bright-ish, and more importantly, invested in being seen to be bright. They respected intelligence enough to fear looking like fools, and that moderated their behavior.

You can talk to a smart asshole. You can manage a bright troll. You can apply peer-pressure to a clever creep. It might be exhausting, but you can do it. Because ultimately, everyone involved wants to be a functional member of the community.

We lost that. And I absolutely didn’t see it coming. I had no idea how quickly stupidity —when forced into a realm where intellect dominates— turns into nihilism.

RE: one day control the lives of many

By my mid-twenties, yes, I had an idea I would. I was deeply in denial about several aspects of the job, and frankly afraid of it… but it was there. Waiting to happen.

Did I know the internet would be integral to the development of that control? Again, yes. From the moment I first dialed in to a local BBS, I knew I’d found my medium. I mean, the first girl I met online moved in with me and never left… obviously, this is where I was meant to be.

As for global reach… honestly, no, I didn’t plan for it. The early online spaces were very U.S.-centric, and I seldom encountered people from outside my country unless I went looking for them.

No, I did not foresee the overlord bit. The hub of a harem? Sure. I knew I had that in me. The bigger things, the more profound things… they had to dawn on me slowly.

And the cult…? When I was eight, I convinced all the neighborhood kids to attend my afterschool classes, where I whipped them with sticks when they failed to answer questions I knew they were too ignorant to answer. When I was sixteen, I spurred a walk-out at my high school because I wanted to watch a movie in class and I knew better than the teachers. In my twenties, I led a schism in an online community because I thought we belonged on the web and I knew better than the grown-ups. I haven’t always been comfortable with it, but people are generally happier when I’m in charge.

And I’m happier when they make it worth my while.

RE: outlandish

I lost my virginity to a married woman who became so clingy that I had to convince her she was a lesbian to make her leave me alone. For my 21st birthday, all the women who worked with me at a retail store pooled their money and ordered me a stripper, then kicked management out of the next morning’s meeting so those on the day-shift could watch the video of the event. The foremost love of my life met me at the door of a hotel room with a collar around her neck and a loaded .357 in her purse.

And all of that was before AOL mailed their first floppy.

So yeah, I knew shit was going to get weird.

RE: how do I deal with that?

I remind myself that they’re here for me, and do my best.

[ninjathrowingstork]

Blade Runner: Bitter Water

The end of the beginning! I'm still working on part 2, the main show, but enjoy the pain.

And it's terrible and fascinating just how replaceable K is, and this universe is so complex and big and I just wanna play around with that 80s Japan-phobia trop-ey ness and how stuff could have really developed in that world over the past decades and I may have watched that Youtube video on why you kill gods in JRPGs several times and some bits of his case are inspired by that.

Anyhow.

Before that dusty farm and the tree, before the wooden horse and the questions that would tear his world apart, before Rick and Ana and Joi and the dream of being real and being loved, KD6-3.7 began his life as a Blade Runner alone. Caught between the programming coded into his cells and the other officers in the Department, he was alone and aware of how expendable his life was, until one other human in the LAPD stepped in, showing the replicant that maybe, maybe he could learn to find a way to live in the harsh world where he'd been placed.

______________________________________________________________

Chapter 4.

“And she came this way every Tuesday, correct?” 

“Yes, sir. I tracked down several witnesses who saw the woman regularly on her errands.” No mention of the one witness who’d fled, or of the one retiring he’d performed on the case, that was all in his files. 

Standing at attention in the Lieutenant’s office, he let his eyes rest on a spot just above his Madame’s head as he gave the report. Answering, but not looking at the three other figures in the room, two men and a woman, all in matching dark business suits that gave no trace of identity except saying dangerous and expensive. The suit on his left, one of the men, was flipping through the folder he’d been ordered to turn over as soon as he’d entered the meeting. All  four of the seated humans were staring at him as  he gave the report. 

“Did you find how long the replicant woman had been making this trip, officer?” 

“At least a year.” He’d had to go from a few people in the smaller stores who’d worked in the locations that long, as well as surveillance files, and he told them so. “CCTV cameras caught most of the route between the family’s building and the shops, and enough hard-cached archives I could pull from to verify the pattern of behavior. There were several breaks over the year, but all these coincided with either road work or occasions when the family might have been busy and her presence required.” 

The woman glanced up from reading the file her colleague held, clearing her throat in what sounded like disapproval. “I believe you were made aware of the parameters of this investigation?” 

“Yes, ma’am.” His voice was calm, emotionless, and efficient in his own ears. “I made no efforts to contact the family or launch any investigation into them or their actions. All information on possible movements, I have estimated based on holidays observed in the city as well as in Japan, and around notable events a young lady in the social circle the  family would likely travel in would need her replicant assistant for. All information found from publicly available sources, of course.” 

The woman nodded in recognition, but still didn’t seem pleased. “Very well. Continue.” 

He quickly retold how the look into possible escape routes the woman may have used had proved fruitless so he changed the line of inquiry to an examination of the route itself. “Due to time elapsed, a number of the surveillance systems along the route, both standard cameras and pedestrian-monitoring advertisement systems had limited archives of the days preceding the disappearance. 

“But I thought you said the cameras-”:

“There were sufficient recordings to track the past year, but specific points in the route were missing data. Sir,” he added. Cutting off the man on his right pushed the boundaries of his protocols for addressing authorities, but the risky move demonstrated his confidence in the investigation, in his own capabilities. He might have hoped. 

The man humphed, one eyebrow raised. 

“Obtaining all the archives took time, but eventually I did get all the remaining copies and could compile my timeline and the route the woman habitually took. It’s all in my report,”  with the smallest shifting of muscles, he nodded at the file the two suits were following along from. “On the day of the disappearance, I followed the sequence of recordings as she passed - the file for that day is also contained in the documents -  until the point on her route where I lost her. 

“Lost her? C’mon boy, stop stringing us along, who took her?” 

K didn’t bristle at the man’s tone, at the words. But he wanted to. “As you’ll find in my report, the final stretch of alley had only one camera covering it, and that was partially obscured. However, I was able to find the place where an unmarked spinner parked along the sidewalk opened, and the woman boarded, before the vehicle pulled into traffic. I lost it from there, but if you look at the picture in the report-” again, the slightest tilt of his head indicated the folder now held by the woman, “you can see she wasn’t in the vehicle alone, and there appears to be no coercion or threat used on her, and neither of them was restrained.” Just because they weren’t  visibly handcuffed, though, didn’t mean there wasn’t something else, invisible, that had the two held captive. He would know. 

Wordlessly, the woman lifted the  zoomed-in image, holding it where her colleague could see. He, too, examined it in silence, before the woman passed it across Joshi’s desk to their companion. 

“Huh, well that answers that,” the man, possibly the oldest of the three, he guessed, studied the picture. 

Behind them, the Lieutenant watched in silence, expression unreadable even to his eyes. 

“And what about the spinner, where did it go from there?” The first man looked  back up from the folder. 

This was it, the  point where he’d run out of leads and time, the point  that might mean that he, as well as his investigation, was out of time and would be brought to a close in turn. “It pulled out of the street and turned into the thoroughfare, and surveillance cameras lost it from there. I’ve put in a request to run the I.D. plates and for transit to check if it got pinged by any traffic monitors, but as of yet, they haven’t returned any new material for leads.                           

For a few long seconds, the only sounds in the room were the shifting of pages as the two continued to study the case file, passing pictures and documents back and forth, and the pattering of rain on the reinforced glass window. Finally, all his records and research was returned to the folder, the man closing it with a snap. As though on cue, all three stood at once. 

“I trust you are satisfied with our progress?” Joshi finally spoke, fingers steepled and elbows propped on her desk. 

It was the woman who turned to speak first. “We are, lieutenant. All information seems to be as complete as we require and I believe my colleagues are in agreement on our stance with this affair.” 

“And Lieutenant,” it was the gruff, older man, “I trust that nothing about  this case will be spoken of outside of here, the family wishes the affair to stay a private one. Understand?.”

“Understood. You can trust the Department’s discretion.” It was subtle enough that only he could tell the slight edge of ice in Joshi’s voice at the man’s speech.  

“Any information not in the file must be deleted, and any new findings forwarded to our offices, Lieutenant. No one else needs to come nosing around the case.” The file with his work for the past week was tucked under the suit’s arm as the man turned away, speaking to the Lieutenant in turn. 

It was as though he had been dismissed from their interest, left to stand with hands behind his back, in the middle of the floor. He hadn’t been ordered to leave, but they’d finished with his report, and with him. The dismissal might have stung, it might have heightened his awareness of the power these anonymous three had, that at a word from any one of the trio he’d be lucky to walk out of this room, much less ever leave the precinct building alive again. But. But it didn’t hurt, and he’d always known how expendable his life was. 

“Your department has been of great service to our offices,” the woman spoke again. “We will be handling any further investigations into the matter in-house. As we discussed, the agreed upon sum will be transferred to your offices, in consideration.” With a few, civil words, they made their departure from the office, the door closing behind them. 

This was it. They were finished with their use of him. He could be disposed of, as a last loose end in the mysterious case, the last trace of the investigation cleared away, up to the Lieutenant’s desk. 

She stared at him now, levelly, across folded fingers. “Well, K, they were satisfied with your investigations. Good work.” 

It took all the heightened stress-response wiring in his nerves to recover in barely the blink of an eye as it felt like the floor had dropped out from under his boots. “Ma’am?” 

The Madame had already looked away, riffling through papers on her desk. “I know it was a difficult case, with the timeline provided and restrictions you had on the work, but they liked your work. You’ll receive an extra bonus, directly from the family, like the man said.” 

Oh. Oh. That had been for him. They’d ignored his presence in the room, even while agreeing to his bonus. But he’d get to live another day. 

“You can pick up the bonus on your way out.” 

And like that, he’d been dismissed. The case was still unresolved, but it was out of his hands, and he’d been granted his life, as well as the promised bonus.  “Yes, ma’am.” He’d turned to go, when her voice brought him up short again. 

“And K?” 

“Ma’am?” Turning in the doorway, he looked back at the seated woman. 

“Having to work with corporate suits is always a pain in the neck. You did well, for your first case having to put up with those assholes.” 

“Thank you, ma’am.” It was an odd compliment, but he’d take it. 

“Good boy.” 

It felt like his heart was beating in his throat as he walked down the hallways to the cashier’s desk. There was a strange numbness in his fingertips, almost tingling. He was still alive. He hadn’t expected that morning he’d ever leave that office without his death sentence being read to him. But he was alive, for now. 

The bonus was. . . substantial. For a moment, he thought the cashier had made a mistake. The offices  of an international kairetsu paid well. 

As he walked through the bullpen, heading out towards the street, he glanced at the dispatch desk - please be there please look up again- he almost - almost dared to hope, but- 

There was another officer there. He wasn’t disappointed.  That would have required any expectation  to begin with, and as a detective again now, Flint had no reason to come back to see if he’d lived through the morning. But she hadn’t been there. He’d seen Nguyen and Roark down a hallway, and the one man of Walter’s gang he’d passed had only scowled at him. He was alive still, and it appeared the woman he’d almost considered a friend had done just enough  that he could walk the hallways of the LAPD precinct house unmolested. He was as alone as he’d been a week and a half ago, but at the least, now the danger inside the station was substantially less than what he faced on the streets in his work day to day. 

Alone, he  hunched into his coat, heading through the crowds on the rainy street. On his right was a familiar doorway, the tea shop where he’d been led by a flash of orange hair and the flare of a blue coat. He didn’t stop. 

Instead, trying not to think of a conversation held under the glowing pink lights of an advertisement, he took the bonus he’d been given - alongside his own continued existence - and purchased a basic JOI setup. Having had someone to talk to, he’d felt a little more real for a few, precious hours. You learn to live, she’d told him. 

He didn’t talk to Flint after that, though. A few times, he’d spot her in the precinct, now in plainclothes and sometimes in the company of another detective. She’d been more serious, the severe cut of her dark jacket standing out  across the corridor. Once, she’d been arguing with Joshi again, but she never  turned to  see him, or speak with him again. 

And he lived, and killed, and went home to a small, bare apartment that felt a little less empty now. And soon, nearly a year had passed when an investigation took him out into the old valley with a farm and a dead tree, and everything changed. 

<- Chapter 3.

[hisxloversblog]

𝒱ℴ𝒾𝒹 || helluva boss & hazbin hotel : chapter 0

000|pilot

Ok so a little warning some of the characters in this will be ooc

☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙

3rd person

☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙☙

The scene opens with a shot of Imp City that slowly zooms in on the I.M.P building. The sound of the busy streets can be heard in the background. The scene transitions to a closed door

labeled "IMP Headquarters", with a crude sign made from a sheet of notebook paper that reads, "Meeting in progress" with a smiley face drawn next to it. The light flickers as the camera

zooms in on the door. Inside, Blitzo is walking in front a whiteboard on the wall as he lectures his employees

Blitzo starts off by saying Alright. Now, I know business has been... a bit slow lately, yes. It's no one's fault, okay? I'm not naming any names here... he looks at Moxxie then says Moxxie.

Moxxie then gives him a wtf look

Blitzo then asks Now, does anyone have... any bright ideas on how we can get business drummin' up again?

Millie who is an employee at the company and is moxxie's wife suggests a car wash to which blitzo says that no one cares about cars being washed as they live in hell.

Blitzo then suggests a billboard to which moxxie shuts down as they don't have money for a billboard to which blitzo replies

Helpful, Moxxie. Really glad you're in the room right now. He then pushes moxxie and asks them Have you guys forgotten what service we provide?

He then turns on the tv to which the tv starts playing a recording of the whole crew brutally murdering people from the overworld as they are paid to do.

Blitzo is then shown whacking a man with a mallet like a whack a mole moxxie is then seen blown away by shooting a shotgun though the mouth of a man that was tied to a chair

Loona swings a man back in forth in her mouth while Millie decapitates someone with a harpoon and laughs the video then focuses on Helena who is tearing a man up limb from limb

getting all her anger out  the camera then zooms in on the man's face only for everyone to see that the man's eyes were ripped out

The recording then ends as the setting goes back to the office where the crew is sitting watching the recording while eating popcorn

Blitzo then says that those were the good times to which moxxie replies to how he doesn't need any reminding as blitzo blow almost all of the crew's salary on a add that plays on tv on a channel that nobody watches

Blitzo offended then asks Uh, hey. Excuse me? What's "obnoxious" about a super-fun jingle, alright? It's a fun distraction when an advertisement's spittin' bullshit!

Millie then says that people love musicals to which blitzo says exactly and that they're basically making a musical he then turns to moxxie and asks him if he's trying to ruin his dreams like his dad did

Moxxie then tries to speak but blitzo interrupt's him by saying that all he sees is his dad's ass hole talking to him crushing his dreams

Millie then turns to her husband and asks him if he's trying to crush their bosses dreams to which he stutters Millie then flirtatiously says that she thought she knew him

She then sticks her tongue out playfully at her husband as he blushes and rolls his eyes affectionately

Blitzo then says to moxxie how he can't believe him he then tearfully holds up a employee of the month plaque with a picture of moxxie on it

Blitzo then continues his sentence and says after I made you employee of the month !

Moxxie feeling defeated then says that he's sorry and that commercial jingle is not comparable to musical theatre and that no one actually likes the jingle's to which Helena agrees and says something about how her favorite musical's don't even have jingle's

To which moxxie looks at her with a thank you look to which she nods to him and goes back to doing what she was doing

Millie then says that she liked the jingle to which moxxie says do not he then points to Millie and continues Do not agree with him in front of me!

The scene then cuts to the commercial of imp blitzo in the commercial starts off by saying his name and saying that the o is silent he then says how he's the founder of I m p as he jesters to the logo as it appears on the screen then disappears

Two pictures of Blitzo in different scenarios show while he speaks. The first shows him wearing two top hats through his horns, a monocle, and twiddling a fake mustache, 

while standing outside of a burning building with a sign that reads "Orphanage for Elderly Blind Newborn Dogs" appears. The second shows Blitzo wearing an angel costume at a

coffeehouse happily throwing an empty coffee cup in a trash can, instead of the recycling bin right next to it

Blitzo then asks Are you a piece of shit that got yourself sent to Hell, or are you an innocent soul who got FUCKED over by someone else?!

The commercial then cuts to a demon guy wearing an Ohio sports jersey, giving a testimonial, while Blitzo holds a cardboard sign in frame that reads "Some guy who hired us!!"

The demon wearing the Ohio jersey then says that after he lovingly killed his wife for sleeping with a delivery man he was surprised when he found out he ended up in hell after he died because a jogger saw him hiding the body

Blitzo is speaking to the camera and holding a grimoire, while Moxxie and Millie are arranging lit candles on the floor in a pentagram. While he speaks,

his eyes narrow as he does a magical gesture with his hand and a flaming portal appears on the floor. Moxxie and Millie run off in surprise. He tosses the grimoire aways as he walks up to the portal

Blitzo then talks to the camera saying Well, luckily for you. Thanks to our company's special access to the living world, we can help you take care of your unfinished business by taking out anyone who screwed you over when you were alive! He then falls backwards into the portal

The scene transitions to a person with their arms crossed and a thought bubble appears depicting another person being crossed out as the commercial jingle plays in the background

♫ When you want somebody gone, ♫

A dead body falls near the person as they notice and look up

♫ and you don't want to wait too long ♫

Moxxie, Blitzo, and Millie are shown in a circle logo. Blitzo holds his arms out as Moxxie holds up his rifle and Millie holds up her spear. A letter "I" appears to the left of them, while a letter "P" appears on the right of them. The trio together form a letter "M", thus spelling the initials I.M.P

♫ call the Immediate Murder Professionals! ♫

Blitzo, Moxxie, and Millie are inside of their building and Moxxie throws a grenade out the window. The trio cover where their ears would be as an explosion goes off. A severed arm goes flying

♫ Hand grenade or cyanide, ♫

Blitzo is shown hanging someone with a rope as Millie finishes writing a suicide note

♫ We'll make it look like suicide ♫

Blitzo is shown electrocuting someone, Millie is shown hitting someone on the head with a mace, and Moxxie is shown strangling someone

♫ The Immediate Murder Professionals! ♫

The I.M.P. logo spins around quickly as the scene transitions to Blitzo creating a portal to the living world in a wall, then jumping through it. He is followed by Millie and then Moxxie, who trips over the grimoire and falls into the portal

♫ We do our job so well, ♫

The trio come up through the other end of the portal and adjust themselves

♫ Because, we come straight out from Hell! ♫

The I.M.P. trio suddenly look shocked as it appears they have accidentally teleported to a church in the middle of a service. A female preacher and the congregation look back at the demons in confusion and/or fear. One bearded man, however, has his head laid back as he sleeps with earbuds in.

Millie is shown struggling to remove a knife from a naked couple who are in 69 position, while Moxxie tries to look away, and Blitzo examines a pair of panties.

♫ We'll kill your husband or your wife ♫

Blitzo stabs someone toed to a chair repeatedly in the head while sporting a goofy expression

♫ We'll even let you keep the knife ♫

A quick sequence then shows the trio assassinating their targets in numerous horrific ways, such as with a medieval torture chamber, riding a shark,

burning someone alive, suffocating someone with a pillow, playing on a grand piano after it crushed someone,

and using an electric chair. In the final scene, the trio are hiding in a bush in a park and Moxxie is about to shoot a blonde woman looking at her phone from behind

♫ We're the Immediaaaaate... Murderrrrrr... Profession-- ♫

Moxxie accidentally shoots a boy passing by, eating an ice cream cone.

The boy then shouts AUUUGH!

The boy then collapses as Moxxie looks on in shock. Blitzo and Millie turn their eyes to Moxxie in surprise.

___________________________

The scene then cuts to a hospital operating room where the boy is wheeled in on a hospital bed by a doctor with a pink haired nurse and a blue haired nurse

The pink haired nurse then talks in a masculine voice telling the doctor that the boy is not responding

The blue haired nurse then says to get cool water stat

The pink haired nurse then whacks the boy in the face with a bucket of of water that does nothing but leave a large welt on his face

The blue haired nurse then points out that it didn't do anything

The boys tongue then flops down from his mouth

As the doctor gets frustrated and and says that he's not losing another one Everyone has their defibrillator paddles over the boy

The doctor then yells clear! They then all zap the boy and he then wakes up the boy then gasps and the doctor shocked says Holy shit! It actually worked.

Millie,moxxie and blitzo are then shown waiting outside of the room on chairs blitzo is shown reading a magazine while Millie is comforting her husband who looks absolutely devastated the doctor then walks out of the room with a clip board and says

That the boy is in stable condition but needs surgery he then asks them what insurance provider they have to which blitzo asks what insurance is

The scene then cuts to the imp gang along with the boy on the bed getting thrown out of the window while blitzo,Millie and moxxie all holding on to the bed for dear life

as they plummet screaming to the ground. The bed is stopped by a rope that has become tangled around Blitzo's foot. Blitzo slams his face into the bed, the rope snaps, and they all continue to fall.

A still shot of the I.M.P. logo is shown.

♫ Kids die for freeeeeee! ♫

___________________________

The scene then cuts back to the boardroom Millie and moxxie are sitting across from Loona who is sitting beside Helena who is showing Loona a video on her phone

Moxxie then says that the incident with the boy being Loona's fault as she is the one who gets the information on the targets

Loona who doesn't look up from Helena's phone says to moxxie to sit on a dick to which he says YOU sit! Sit on... a... and the... d-- DO YOUR JOB!!

Blitzo then says Hey, now. We don't blame our screwups on Loona or Helena okay?!

Blitzo hugs and nuzzles both Loona Helena as they are both sitting together as loona snarls at him in response as Helena just embraces the hug.

Blitzo then says that Loona didn't do anything wrong to which moxxie says that she's awful while saying that Helena is a sweetheart with to much trauma

___________________________

The scene then cuts to a flash back of Loona and Helena at their desks Loona is reading a magazine while Helena at her desk is reading a good girls guide to murder loona's desk phone then rings and she answers

Not looking up from her magazine she says Hello, I.M.P. Millie is heard on the other end of the phone saying to call moxxie and that she got stabbed while Loona suddenly hangs up disinterested

Helena goes to a different room and calls moxxie to tell him what she heard

___________________________

In The second flashback Loona and Helena are in blitzo's office as he gives them both gifts

Blitzo gives loona her gift first saying Happy Adoption Anniversary, Loonie! I got you a little somethin'.

Loona then asks if it's a cut for syphilis to which blitzo says I... Oh... Loona snatches the present and angrily slams it on the floor. And yells THEN, I DON'T WANT IT!

A large swarm of spiders suddenly emerge from the present box and swarm Loona up to her neck.

Blitzo suddenly hiding outside of the office window says that he's sorry that it's spiders Loona then shouts goddammit

While after that blitzo give's Helena a gift wrapped up in wrapping paper she opens it and sees it's a vinyl of Taylor swift's 1989 to which she shouts in happiness and hugs her adoptive father in pure happiness

___________________________

In the third flashback Loona is shown at her desk watching a video of Charlie Morningstar performing inside of every demon is a rainbow while Helena is at her desk reading a book while having her 1989 vinyl playing in the background as moxxie walks up to loona's desk

With a flyer that says Chub B Gone he then asks Loona if she just faxed him a add for weight loss to which Loona says no and moxxie asks why anyone would send him this to which Loona says that he knows why

And Helena says that he looks perfectly fine the way he is right now

___________________________

The next flashback starts with Loona rummaging through the break room fridge

Loona then yells that whoever left the avocado salad in the fridge she's taking it because she has a hangover

She then turns around to face Millie with a red box in her hand as she shuts the fridge door with her foot. She rips off the lid and drinks the salad

Millie then asks Loona why she would drink on a work night to which Loona says that she's hungover from the morning

Moxxie then enters the room and notices Loona with his box of avocado salad and asks Isn't that my lunch? To which Loona drops the box on the floor and says that she can't take the assault this morning and that she needs to blow off some steam

She kicks the box at moxxie knocking him out of the room and surprising Millie

Loona then runs out of the break room and out into the street she then screams out in anger

She then runs up to a succubus lady passing by on the other side of the street, pushing her baby in a stroller. Loona then kicks the stroller high into the air and storms off, while the demon lady stands there in disbelief. The scene transitions to Helena at her desk, telling Blitzo about a caller.

___________________________

Helena shouts to blitzo that stolas is on the phone saying Bliiiitzo! That nice, rich owl is on the phone! Says it's urgent and wants to talk to you! Sounds a little horny.

The scene then cuts to blitzo and moxxie at the water cooler

Blitzo then throw's his cup on the floor and yells Oh, GOD, it was one time! He crosses his arms then says that if he hadn't slept with stolas none of them would have access to the living world to which moxxie asks you what?

___________________________

The scene then cuts to a flashback of Stolas sleeping naked in bed. He is hooting like an owl and there are feathers everywhere. Blitzo, who is partially nude, walks away quietly with the grimoire in hand

Blitzo starts to talk to him self in a singing voice about how he has this heavy book

Blitzo then reaches Stolas' balcony and lays the grimoire on the ledge. Grunting, he then attempts to step up on the ledge using the grimoire. Instead, the combined weight sends both him and the grimoire falling forward off of the balcony

He then shout oh shit he then  lands on the cake that Stolas' wife stella and her friends were having, splattering pieces of it all over them

Blitzo then says off he turns to Stella then yells Sorry, I fucked your husband. The scene cuts back to Helena at her desk playing Taylor swift she then nicely yells for her adoptive father again to which he quietly shouts that he heard her

___________________________

The scene then cuts to blitzo in his office on the phone talking to stolas as he plays with a bobble head of moxxie

He asks stolas what he can do for him this time stolas is shown on his phone in his fancy mansion he then starts talking to blitzo saying that There's a political candidate causing trouble up on Earth for a few of his associates. And that He's trying to convince people global warming exists!

Blitzo then asks Doesn't it? To which stolas says yes but that more people die if nothing happens about it he then says that it gets lonely in his palace to which blitzo says that it makes sense

Stolas then asks blitzo You know what happens when I'm lonely, Blitzy? Blitzo then pulls his phone away and talks to himself blitzo under his breath saying God-fuckin'-dammit.

Stolas then says When I'm lonely, I become hungry. And when I become hungry, I want to choke on that red {bleeped) of yours... {bleeped) your {bleeped) and lick all of your (bleeped), before taking out your (bleeped), and (bleeped) with more teeth until you're screaming (bleeped) like a FUCKING baby--!

Blitzo, who's visibly disturbed, scene pans to his with Stolas name listed as "creepy mouth (aka one night stand bird dick) with a call total of 48

seconds. as he hangs up, a knock out noise plays. He snaps his cellphone in half, smashes it with his desk phone, tosses said desk phone away, pulls out a blender, puts the cellphone pieces in it, and blends them. Blitzo turns and hands the blender to Loona, who was standing nearby.

Blitzo then tells loona to eat the blended up phone to which she does blitzo then asks her if she knows the bridge over the freeway to which she says yeah and blitzo says shit off it

___________________________

The flashback ends and blitzo is seen standing in the middle between the two chairs Helena and Loona are on to which blitzo says that Loona and Helena are important and valued members of their family and that they don't get rid of family

Loona is seen looking up from her phone and smiles briefly while Helena is shown with tearful eyes at what her adoptive father just said

To what blitzo said moxxie says that they are not a family and that blitzo is the boss they are the employees and that blitzo treats Loona like a meth addicted homeless woman they let man the phones

As Moxxie rants, Loona continues looking at her phone, slowly flipping Moxxie off

Blitzo then says how that's offensive and that without homeless people he wouldn't have half the joy and laughter he does in his life

Blitzo then puts his face up against the window cracking the glass, and sees a homeless demon, looking sad and holding up a sign that reads "Monee helps. Satan bless." A succubus is on her cellphone and turns away from the hobo. Blitzo smugly waves at him, before lowering the window blinds.

Moxxie then starts talking again saying that while their on the subject of "family" if blitzo can please stop finding him and Millie outside of work to which Millie says it's not a big deal and he shouts excuse me what ?

___________________________

The scene cuts to a flashback of Moxxie and Millie preparing dinner in their kitchen

Moxxie asks Millie if she could get the butter to which she says sure she then goes and opens the fridge and finds Blitzo inside as he hands her the gross, viscous butter

Blitzo then says Spoiler alert: the butter's spoiled! To which Millie giggles to which moxxie who throws some diced carrots into a soup asks his wife what's so funny

Blitzo then says Really impressive wordplay which moxxie shouts WHAT THE--?! WHY ARE YOU IN OUR FRIDGE?!?!

Later that evening, shows a building, Inside their Moxxie and Millie are asleep in bed. The former is tossing and turning as the sound of a cat purring can be heard. Moxxie opens his eyes and sees Blitzo standing on him, looking him right in the eyes.

Blitzo then asks moxxie Whatcha dreamin' about? To which moxxie replies that he was dreaming of his parents being murdered and how now he would like to go back to that

In the next scene, Moxxie is singing the end of "Oh, Millie", as Millie joins in on some parts.

Moxxie sings ♫ Of all the imps in Hell, it's for her that I fell ♫ and Millie harmonizing sings ♫ It's for him that I fell ♫ and moxxie continues singing ♫ Oh, Millie~ ♫

The couple close their eyes to kiss, but Moxxie notices Blitzo outside the window holding a camcorder.

He then shouts angrily Are you fucking filming us right now?!

_________________________

The flashback ends as the scene cuts back to the board room in the present.

Moxxie then says Just... stop... doing that! To which blitzo shrugs and says that he doesn't see what the issue is then asks if there's something moxxie doesn't want him to see to which moxxie's eye twitches in anger as he shouts NO!

Loona snicker's and Helena looks upset at the same time as blitzo talks to moxxie saying You a baby-wiener-haver? To which moxxie says to his boss that what he says and how he acts is totally INAPPROPRIATE! He yells the last part as he stands up from his chair

Millie lays a hand on her husband's shoulder and says Calm down, Mox! You're gonna have another panic attack!

To which moxxie yells I AM CALM! He then starts whimpering angrily while looking back at blitzo Millie comforting her husband says Shh-shh-shh. There, there.

Blitzo then says Look, I don't judge the boring couple stuff ( he makes a sexual gesture with his hands) you do outside work hours. So, don't... judge me! To which moxxie tells his boss that he does judge him a lot

To which Millie says Mox, he's our boss! And blitzo says No-no-no, it's fine Mills, your husband is just... how do I say this without being offensive? He then smiles smugly and says retarded.

To which moxxie asks his boss if insulting him makes him feel better about his sad single life to which blitzo replies that it actually does the camera then zooms out to Loona and Helena

Loona then says The only reason you have a wife she looks up from her phone to glare at moxxie and continues her sentence is because you're easy to manage!

Millie then slams her hands against the table, looking at Loona with anger and says No, he's not, you she then in deeper tone says BITCH! She then flips Loona off

Loona then growls at Millie while Helena grabs one of her hands trying to calm down her adoptive sister

Blitzo then tell Millie to not talk to one of his receptionist's that way and that both of them Helena more then Loona are sensitive Loona then snaps at Millie being reminded of Helena's trauma saying Yes, we are!

The kid from earlier is heard offscreen saying all of you guys except for that traumatized dog are all fucking assholes.

Blitzo, Moxxie, Millie,Loona & Helena's eye all widen in surprise. They look at the kid, Eddie is lying on a table with three wires from a heart monitor attached to his stomach

Blitzo then tells the kid to shut up and that he's lucky to even witness this moxxie pinches the bridge of his nose then says Ugh, this company is such a mess!

Blitzo then says Alright, let's get back to talking about my outfit. To which Helena confused tilts her head and asks what? To which Loona says Nobody was talking about that!

To which blitzo says Which is why I'm tryin' to get that ball rolling. So, how does it look? It's good, right? And Helena says that it looks okay and asks if next time she goes shopping she can get a new suit for him to which he nods

The kid then points to blitzo and tells him that it's been literal hell having to pretend to be paralyzed so that they wouldn't kill him But, now he wants that. That he wants death he again points to blitzo and tells him

You are a selfish, greedy clown. And I'm a kid! We're supposed to like clowns! Even the creepy ones! Moxxie then says how that's not nice then gets cut off by the kid saying If I wanted to hear from a spineless jackass, I'd rip out your spine and ask you some shit.

Which makes Millie slams one hand on the table in anger while on the other hand she points to moxxie and says That's my husband you're talkin' to!

The kid laughs and asks her That's your husband?! Moxxie and Millie then snarl at the kid as he then says I figured you for a slut. But, I didn't know you needed dick that bad he then points to Loona and Helena and says and you two!

To which Loona protectively asks what about us ? The kid then says nothing I don't talk to dogs I'm a cat person to which Loona gives the kid a wide eyed glare she whines at the kid with anger then goes back to looking at her phone and showing Helena cool stuff

Blitzo then says Wow. Ah, y'know, kid, you kind of are a piece of shit. Everyone in unison softly agree loona's eyes then widen as she receives a text message to which Helena looks at her phone in curiosity Loona then says Oh, fuck! Guys, I just got a text from our client! Guess he was the right target after all.

Blitzo then asks who? To which Helena says and points at the kid him! The kid in disbelief asks me? Loona smugly says yup without looking up from her phone blitzo then asks they wanted us to kill an actual child to which Loona says that's what they're saying

Blitzo then says Well, Christ on a stick. I guess there is a God blitzo then draws a flintlock pistol and fires it at Eddie, killing him instantly the kid says OWWWW! he then crashes into the wall as he gets shot, covers a spot with blood as he says this, landing on the table while his eyes turn to Xs

Then blood covers the screen, then reveals Blitzo and Moxxie kicking Eddie's corpse, Millie stabbing him, Helena cutting out his vocal cords and eyes and Loona recording everything on her phone

___________________________

Blitzo is then heard voicing over saying Y'know, folks? With this company, I really wanted to prove that we're capable of doing the same things anyone else can. Like killing people!

Blitzo and Moxxie are shown wearing full hazard gear, dismembering Eddie's body with a hacksaw and chainsaw respectively. Blood splats on the screen again, then shows the group by a dumpster putting Eddie's body parts in a garbage bag.

Blitzo still voicing over says So, from us here at the Immediate Murder Professionals group, we promise to settle your unfinished business or your money... is gone and you're never getting it back, and you can write us a bad review but we'll play dumb to it, because it's Hell and no one fuckin' cares.

As Blitzo does the voiceover, he hugs Moxxie, Millie, Helena and Loona, the latter's phone flying out of her hands

Blitzo then tells them Y'know, even though this kid was a target... he's still a child. And it's important that he then wraps his tail lovingly around the group we handle this going forward respectfully.

___________________________

The group all smile as the scene cuts to a newscast, showing Eddie's mother tearfully holding up a bad drawing of her son. A male news reporter holds a microphone up to her, looking disinterested. The headline on screen says, "Mom sucks at drawing own kid", while the ticker bar constantly reads "There is a missing boy! Yet another missing kid!"

The kid's mother sobbing says that if anyone has seen her son to call her the kids dead body in a body bag then falls into her arms she then terrified shouts OHHH!

The kid's mother and the news reporter look up in shock as the camera follows their gaze. Blitzo, Moxxie, and Millie are shown looking down on them through a portal.

Blitzo then smiles,waves and shouts to them you're welcome!

The trio then disappear into the portal as it closes