#of (un)professionalism either

[chadlesbianjasontodd]

ive had people object really strongly when i criticize ao3 or the otw but like. my real actual main criticism is just that........organizations that expect the lower-down people who do the hard scut work to be in it For The Love Of The Game do not behave professionally, because they think they don't need to behave professionally. and i don't care how cool and new and different your particular startup is! having beanbag chairs or charity work or a volunteer-only structure is not a substitute for best practices!!

[redflagshipwriter]

Nest Swap ch 1

Little Tim wakes up in big Tim's apartment.

The idea came from this chain started by @ew-selfish-art and the contribution by @faeriekit

(repost of something that's currently just in a reblog chain)

His first observation was that this wasn't his house.

Tim was new to detecting, but he thought that was a pretty dang salient observation.

He didn't actually remember going to sleep. It didn't feel like he woke up here, either. He just suddenly noticed he was sitting somewhere he'd never been in his whole 9 years of life.

Very weird! Pretty neat, though.

Tim prowled around in his socked feet in total silence, investigating by the little light that came in through mostly shut curtains. He wasn't in his own clothes, which was kind of scary. He had to keep hiking up his sweatpants to keep them on, and he rolled down his socks three times to tighten them up. At least the floors didn't creak at all, even when he stepped on the dark wood panels in between dark red rugs. It made him feel more secure to move around quietly.

He was in an apartment that seemed relatively expensive but new, no antiques or family heirlooms. It was an open plan, with floating stairs and a white sofa. It was also sterile, as if no one really lived in it. It was clean in the same un-lived in way his house was. Someone professionally cleaned this apartment. 

Tim was really, really careful not to make any mess. 

Theory one: he had been kidnapped. It seemed pretty sound. He went to bed at home, and he woke up sitting on a strange sofa. Danger alarms were going off.

He looked around for a house phone to call for help. There was none. Troubling. 

On the other hand, Tim opened the apartment door to the hallway and stuck his head out. He could see sunlight coming in through the huge lobby windows.

…Okay. He was going to consider that a viable escape route. He glanced at the side of the door where there was a pair of shoes. They were big but he could probably use them in a pinch.

So. He could just walk out at any time. He frowned. That wasn't very good kidnapping practice. He would plan a much better restraint system. Like, a rope would be a good place to start, or maybe breaking the little bones in his feet? 

“This is so disappointing,” Tim muttered to himself. “I'm not even being ransomed?” 

Just… Some effort would be nice.

Hmm. He didn't want to believe anyone that incompetent had managed to transport him into Gotham proper from Bristol while he slept. So. Tim formally recategorized his kidnapping theory to a  suspected no. 

It was undeniable that he'd been moved in his sleep, which was pretty classic. But the counter evidence? The new location looked pretty easy to escape, if he was willing to get his socks dirty outside. 

Conclusion: This probably wasn't a conventional kidnapping. What else was there?

Theory two: he hit his head or fell asleep while he was out birdwatching, and some good person took them into their house to keep him safe.

That neatly explained why he was in the actual city. Tim ran his fingers through his hair looking for a bump. He wasn't sure if he found one or not. Maybe his head was just kind of oddly shaped. Troubling. Maybe he should go to the doctor about that. 

It would have been helpful information either way if there had been another human being around to talk to. 

There were signs that someone lived here. Tim poked around in the closet and in the fridge, building a mental profile for the resident.

One person lived here, and they were clearly kind of a loser because they had no photos of friends or family up. The jacket hanging by the door told Tim they were either an average sized woman or a small man. They couldn't cook at all, which was excellent because that meant there was a really great variety of ready to eat food. Tim snacked on string cheese and a can of soda while he flipped through the books on the shelves.  He pulled a couple off to check for secret compartments. Nope. Just books.

“Boring,” Tim said to himself. 

They were all books about things like business and management. It was the type of self-aggrandizing garbage that his parents made fun of: memoirs that you knew damn well that person hadn't written, manifestos on the virtues of hard work from someone born into the financial elite, and how-to's directed at an audience who had no personal shame.

Momentarily, he entertained the fantasy that he had been kidnapped by someone who was going to mold him into the ideal Drake Industries CEO, someone who wouldn't jet off across the world to follow a passion. The suspects were the entire board of directors. 

Kidnapped theory redux: the Board of Directors did it. Evidence?

Tim sat down and made a chart for his thoughts, quantifying how much each person had been inconvenienced by his parents’ absence in the last fiscal year. He concluded that Mr. Morrison might hate his parents enough to do it, but the projected timeline was beyond his scope. Tim didn't think he had it in him to plan that far out.

So, the apartment owner was just a boring person. Tim made a note. Theory two was looking pretty good. The person who lived here kind of sucked at life but they were probably really nice.

Something started beeping. That was interesting. He followed it to the bedroom that he hadn't been brave enough to poke around yet. There was a weird tablet on the bedside table. He picked it up and it unlocked automatically. Wow, the security was so bad. He felt embarrassed on behalf of the absent apartment owner.

The screen showed an email from someone called Tamara Fox. 

“Tim, can you get me the numbers from the acquisition in Peru?”

He blinked at it. Was the person who lived here also named Tim? Surely she wasn't actually asking him. He looked around uncertainly. 

There was still no one else. The blinking display on the alarm clock told him that it was half past noon, and no one else was in the apartment. 

…. poor Tamara probably really needed that information, if she was asking for it in the middle of the workday. Tim sat down on the bed and started putting together context clothes to figure out what Miss Fox was talking about. Her email signature had her title at Wayne industries listed, so that was a pretty big clue. He had access to a team calendar that showed meetings and ongoing projects, which he used to narrow it down. 

When he figured it out, he sent her back an email and sat back in satisfaction. A moment later, he realized that the email account had an attached auto signature. It claimed to be Tim Drake-Wayne, CEO of Wayne Enterprises. 

What.

He stopped breathing and momentarily considered that he had traveled to the future and this was really his apartment, but the name was impossible. There was no way he was going to marry either one of the Waynes. Bruce and Dick were kind of old. Tim wrinkled his nose at the thought. Gross. 

So, no. He wasn't Tim Drake-Wayne. “...It must be an inside joke,” Tim decided. “It seems really unprofessional.”

Tim was a little disappointed that he wasn't the boss of everyone, but at least he wasn't in a troubling marriage with a huge age difference. He had another cheese stick about it and the feeling went away.  Ah, good. Maybe that was how Mom dealt with Drake Industries: she distracted herself until she didn't feel bad about putting it on the back burner. It was a good tactic. He'd need more cheese sticks. He made a mental note to figure out how to replace these ones.

He found a loose blanket on a side chair and tied it around his shoulders, because the apartment was pretty chilly.

The email dinged again. Tim dragged his blanket cape back into the bedroom and stared at the tablet, lost in thought.

He didn't mean to be annoying. He really didn't. He knew people hated it when you got in their stuff. But the thing was: this guy got a lot of emails. And he wasn't here to answer them, which was pretty rude of him, honestly. It seemed like his job needed him a lot. 

Maybe when he got back, he would be mad at Tim for looking at his stuff. 

On the other hand, maybe he would appreciate it. Tim told himself that it would be fine, and he manned that email account until the end of business hours at 5:00 p.m. Then he gave a luxurious stretch and went to find something interesting in the freezer that he could microwave. 

His feelings about the email account had changed, after the hours spent together. It was their mutual email account now. Tim was willing to fight about it. He was emotionally attached to that email. People asked him all sorts of questions there, and he got to answer. It was pretty fun.

The apartment looked a little friendlier in the early evening light. He crossed it again and pushed a chair up against the deep freezer so that he could root around inside.

“Omigod, lasagne!” Tim ripped the package open in his excitement. Today was the best. He liked this place. Maybe he'd get to stay there when the owner came back to look at their shared email account.

While the lasagne heated, he went back to checking for fake books on the shelf. They were all disappointments. He did finally notice that there were pets here. 

“I should feed you,” Tim told the fish, because he was really fixing this guy's life. The fish didn't pay him any attention. The microwave beeped completion, so he went back and got his lasagne. He held it in one hand and ate while he searched for fish food. When he found it, he stuck his fork in the lasagne to free up a hand and shook flakes into the water. 

A secret compartment in the floor opened up.

Tim froze. He took a step back. He looked around the apartment, as if someone was going to materialize.

“…I might as well go see,” he told himself. “They're already gonna be mad that I answered our email.”

Down he went. 

[sukunasweetheart]

after learning that sukuna canonly speaks in an elegent and poetic way and uses old japanese terms (that sadly gets lost in translation) i can’t stop thinking of him being a literature or terminology professor😖 like this man would say romantic things to you out of nowhere and you’re like “what?🥴” and he says “what? what’s the big deal🤨”

no bc picture sukuna with glasses and a coffee in one hand, wearing an awfully smart outfit, his passion for jujutsu replaced with passion for literature, a tall mf who has an unapproachable aura in every way possible

his classes are by no means, for the weak. high demand, but high results. meaning, if you successfully endure and manage to grit your teeth through his assignments and harsh, but reasonable critique, you will have attained something very valuable from the experience, because this man expects nothing but the best from students who sit through his classes and want to learn about the art of literature + poetry

so many college students develop a crush on him, despite his difficult personality...

his lovelife is rather stagnant, however. literature professor!sukuna is too careful about who he brings into his life, being mostly uninterested in romance and the turmoil it brings to a person. he isn't fond of the idea that he could be potentially swayed so easily by one singular person. how awful would it be that your entire mood could depend on one individual? he was pretty content with spending the rest of his life as a single man, so be it.

but really, nobody is immune to the nature of falling in love... it can be something that happens at the snap of one's fingers. or it can be gradual, like a slow but firm tug that pulls you in closer towards someone. it can occur almost violently, and you might find yourself thrashing frantically against the net that you've gotten tangled up in. or, it can occur in a way that is as elegant and gentle as how one handles their most beloved books, flipping through each page without leaving as much as a crease behind...

for sukuna, all the boxes can be ticked off. falling in love with you, a fellow professor, was like experiencing all of these at once. the realisation hit like a bolt of lightning, when he caught himself... smiling? when he was reading an email of yours. he had to take off his glasses and pinch the bridge of his nose for that one. there was no way. it happens this quickly?

it's hard to say whether he fell in deep from the start, or if happened more like sinking slowly, helpless, in quicksand. either way, it didn't matter whether he tried to struggle or not, he was only plummeting further.

it only hurt him when he tried to distance himself away. it only hurt him when he tried holding himself back from contacting you. it seemed like everything he did in attempt to quell the thrumming in his heart, only came back to hurt him.

it started off as emails between two professional colleagues. but eventually, it developed into polite follows onto each other's social media accounts. and almost inevitably, personal numbers were then exchanged after much talking in dms. it was very funny, seeing his empty shell of an instagram account, no posts or even a profile picture in place. such clever and well pronounced prose coming from a colourless account.

let's not get into the moment where he first experienced your touch. when handing him a novel, you brushed fingers with him, and sukuna felt a strange tingle that travelled down his spine.

many instances come- where an overwhelming desire to pull you close to him by the waist, grasps him by the throat. the conflicting compulsion and urge to wreck you, but also having the need to treat you like he would a fragile butterfly.

he goes out drinking with you, one evening. already a dangerous move.

in a soft, but a little busy area in maybe a small, cheap restaurant where the two of you are residing. both of you a little tipsy, but not drunk. tipsy enough for lingering gazes. tipsy enough for the little unnoticeable but definitely noticeable touches. tipsy enough to bring out the vulnerability to seep out of yours and his eyes.

you and him, confined in a little cosy and invisible bubble… all and every noise that's made outside of it sounds muffled.

the tilting of your head as you look at him with a flirtatious smile, the reach of your delicate fingers approaching his cheek slowly, but then retracting because you're still unsure, because you're only tipsy.

and he, with his mellow eyes, grabs onto your hand before you can get away. why don't you commit? his searing hot palm clasps over your skin, and it captures you in every way possible.

and you're doing it again. you're batting your eyelashes at him, tempting him into doing something definitively irreversible. now that he's touched you, he can't compel himself to let go. you've done it now. there's nothing he can do to stop this.

your eyes follow as he reaches for his own glasses, still holding onto your hand, grip so firm yet so gentle. sukuna takes them off. carefully places them onto the table. the next order of events should have been so painfully obvious, but it still didn't fail in making your heart pound within your ribcage.

he kisses you so feverishly. he palms your jawline with great tenderness, bringing you in impossibly closer. so enraptured, so infatuated, so sweet. he holds your hand tighter, gliding his large thumb over it.

it brings him an intense amount of joy, touching you like this. it's addicting. and he never wants to let go again. he's a selfish man at heart, already claiming you as his internally, because you enthrall him and induce such pleasure like no one before. oh, how aggravating. but also, simply delightful.

it's time he brought you home. if you've caught someone up in your web, it's only right you take responsibility. will you consume him? or will he do it first?

after this string of events, sukuna is most definitely no longer a single man. having a lover around has its merits, and its disadvantages. but never does the bad outweigh the good, at least when it comes to you.

maybe he'll write an excerpt about you. a little free verse poem. beautifully worded, but incredibly abstract. nobody could guess how it all ties back to you. not even yourself, perhaps. but that's what sukuna intended. he's satisfied with keeping this secret to himself.

you'd think having such a mellow lovelife would also transfer the same softness into his lectures, and assignments. wrong. as a professor, he's still as prickly as ever.

[kikyan]

Hellfire

Cw: Yandere content means Yandere content y’all, dub-con, stalking, obsessive behavior, abuse of power, Father/Priest! Rollo (AS IN PRIEST NOT INCEST), masturbation, body worship, oral (GN! Reader receiving), fingering, riding, religious themes, etc

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland 

Pairing: Rollo x GN! Reader 

Words: 9.5K 

A/N: Everyone look at your calendars and do you see how in reality it isn’t a New Year but rather Halloween and this Halloween special is coming out on the day it was meant to and not almost 3 months later? Fantastic, moving on. . .enjoy :)) 

A/N2: I want to preface this by saying that this fic does have religion/religious themes. This is not an accurate portrayal either, so please do not come for me-! I did grow up catholic but in my teen years became a full atheist so anything said in this fic is me recalling my childhood. Also, I googled bible verses because I don’t remember any and they were all in Spanish so, yeah. . .enjoy! :))

The bells rang throughout Fleur City, signaling the start of Sunday mass. The crowd gathered, rushing to find any available seats to sit down on. Those unfortunate would have to stand, as they did not dare miss the mass. Father Rollo was an exceptional man, his voice and words rang throughout the church and captivated everyone who was blessed to be in his presence. He handled himself professionally, standing with an upright posture and his head was always looking ahead. He was truly a man befitting to be god's messenger. Fleur City was fortunate to have Father Rollo, he was a man adored by his people and [Reader] was no different. They were locked on Father Rollo who strutted with confidence,

 “Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you” 

His eyes locked with [Reader]. They broke away from his eyes but could still feel his piercing eyes on them. 

“I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” 

Cheers erupted from within the church the moment he finished his sentence. Mass was shortly concluded after the church staff asked for donations. Plenty of people offered whatever they could spare, but it was appreciated. The church was emptying but a few others stayed behind to have a few words with Father Rollo. [Reader] stayed seated but looked over at Father Rollo from the corner of their eye. He was attending to the people and their needs, he truly was a virtuous man. They averted their gaze when they saw Father Rollo turn to them. He bid goodbye to the troubled crowd. His heeled shoes echoed loudly through the emptying church, stopping in front of [Reader]. 

“[Reader], good morning. How have you been?” 

“Oh. . good morning, Father Rollo. I’ve been well, how about you?” 

“It has been a pleasant morning so far and I can only pray that it shall remain that way. Though I will say, it’s certainly comforting knowing you’re here. I did not see you anywhere last week.” 

“R-Right. . .my apologies. It certainly wasn’t my intention to miss last week’s mass, but I’m afraid I did end up catching a cold. It has since passed and I feel quite better.” 

“ You ought to take care of yourself, [Reader]. It would be a shame if something terrible happened to you. You are, after all, our number one devotee here at the Church. It would be rather quiet and lonely if you were to go.” 

“Ha ha, it was only a cold Father Rollo, not the plague. I assure you, I am fine. Besides, I’m pretty strong enough to handle an illness.” 

[Reader] returned a smile to Rollo, whose face remained expressionless, but his eyebrows furrowed upwards in un-amusement.  

“That you are, you have God’s protection as one of his children. Alas, I must be off. Till next we meet, [Reader].” 

Rollo turned around and left the main hall, leaving [Reader] alone. It was only for a split second, but he turned around to gaze at them again. 

~ 

[Reader] was in love with Rollo. Their greatest sin that would be known to the dead once they passed. They remember their first meeting, plain as day, unlike that stormy night where this story takes place. 

There was a storm and it was pouring. The kind that people were warned to stay indoors because of the severity, yet here [Reader] was running to the middle of the town where the church lay. Their face was coated in rainwater which made it almost impossible to keep their eyes open, they were struggling to breathe, and the cold that accompanied the storm did little to help. They were staggering over to the Church. 

“[READER!] GET BACK HERE NOW AND I MIGHT FORGIVE YOU!” 

Panic rose and they didn’t dare look back, for if they did, surely it would be their last. They didn’t dare scream for help, because they knew their cries would be drowned by the storm. They finally made it to the center, running up the stairs of the cathedral, and lunged to the door. No surprise that it was locked. 

“[READER]! STOP!”

“L-LEAVE ME ALONE! SANCTUARY, PLEASE GIVE ME SANCTUARY!” 

[Reader] pleaded and began to hit the doors with all their might. The person who was no doubt chasing after them continued their pursuit. They were approaching the steps and soon, close enough to reach out to [Reader]. Just in the nick of time, the door opened enough for [Reader] to throw themselves inside. They landed on the cold stone floors and used whatever strength they had to scramble away from the door. They looked up to see a skinny man with a pale face, green-blue eyes, dark bags under his eyes, and silver hair behind the door. He was adorned in an ankle-long robe and wore black-heeled loafers. His outfit certainly was nothing too fancy, then again it was the middle of the night. 

“S-Sanctuary! P-please, give me sanctuary!” 

“What seems to be the matter-!?” 

The man turned to them but was cut from the person chasing after [Reader]. 

“[Reader]! C’mere, now.” 

The anger in his voice disappeared but there was sternness laced in his request. The silver-haired man turned to the other person. The storm showered them, and the mud that they tracked in did not go unnoticed by the silver-haired man. 

“Forgive me. My name is Rollo Flamme, I am one of the priests here. May I ask what seems to be the issue? I certainly did not expect there to be anyone leisuring out in the streets with the storm raging outside.” 

The silver-haired man, now named ‘Rollo’, asked. Rollo turned to the person outside with an unamused expression. 

“Father Rollo, pardon the intrusion. You see, that person over there is named [Reader], they're my partner. My partner also suffers from an unstable state of mind. It would be best if we returned-!?” 

“Father Rollo, is everything alright?” 

They all turned to look at an elderly woman who no doubt worked for the church. Rollo shook his head and the woman took it as a sign to approach the door. 

“Everything is alright here, there is no need for the both of you to concern yourselves over our issues. Me and [Reader] would be taking our leave-!?” 

“I think not. It would be against everything we stand for if we turned away someone who came to this holy place and asked for sanctuary. I apologize, but I’ll be asking for you to leave. Madam, take this one,” 

Rollo turned to face [Reader], 

“This one inside. Run them a warm bath and please get them a fresh set of clothes. As for you, sir. . please leave.” 

[Reader’s] partner scoffed and stepped forward, 

“I wouldn’t recommend that.” 

He stopped after Rollo’s warning. Soon, others started to arrive within the church, including the guards. [Reader’s] partner glared at Rollo but decided against their actions. They just scoffed and went outside. The church’s door was shut and locked following his departure. 

[Reader] had been sitting on the floor, trying to steady their breathing. Rollo walked over to them and helped them off their feet. 

“You’re safe here in the house of God, he cannot hurt you any longer.” 

Rollo then walked away, moving people to their station leaving [Reader] alone with the Madam. 

“Come child, let’s get you out of those freezing clothes and into a warm bath.” 

That was the first time they met Rollo. 

Several weeks later, [Reader] was still within the church and assisting in any way they could. They would sometimes join the community in cleaning the church, making meals to provide during the holidays, and so forth. They were currently helping the volunteers make bread until Rollo arrived in the kitchen. 

“Good morning, Father Rollo! How may we assist you?” 

The elderly woman asked Rollo, who turned to face her. 

“Good morning, Madam. I see you’re all hard at work assisting the church so I won’t take up too much of your time. May I speak with [Reader]?” 

At the mention of their name, [Reader] perked up. The Madam turned to them and asked, 

“Of course, is that alright?” 

[Reader] nodded, dropping their task and washing their hands. They turned to look at Rollo who nodded, 

“This way, please.” 

Rollo led the way to his office and closed the door once they were both inside. He turned to them and offered the chair across from his. 

“Sit, please. Good morning, [Reader]. How are you this morning?” 

“Father Rollo. . .great. This morning has been great so far, busy but no complaints from me yet! How about yours?” 

“Fine, busy as well but such is life as God’s servant. Now, I wanted to discuss some things with you. The man that pursued you when you arrived at our doorsteps, I presume you would be content knowing that he has since left the town. He is no longer residing in Fleur City.” 

[Reader] let out a sigh of relief, since the day they arrived at the steps of the cathedral they have been residing within it. All housing was provided by the church as well as their meals. They weren’t expected to assist with the chores at the church, but they felt it was the least they could do. They would leave to go into town occasionally but always went with a guide or a guard in case anything happened. Rollo had made arrangements for them to avoid any further issues. They weren’t aware that their partner who had tormented them relentlessly had left the city or had any plans to. 

“Thank you. . . Father Rollo. I appreciate you informing me.” 

“ Of course, now that he has permanently left Fleur City we can arrange to get you a small place within the city. Don’t worry, if you still wish to assist the Church it will be nearby and the place will be within the guard's post. The area will be carefully monitored and maintained.” 

“Father Rollo. . that’s too much. I appreciate all you have done since that day, but asking for my living quarters would be too much-!” 

“Nonsense. You requested sanctuary from the church and since then, we have worked hard to provide that for you. It’s no trouble at all, you’re a precious child of God after all and he never abandons his children.” 

Rollo faced [Reader] who was deep in thought. A place to stay without the haunting memories of their partner who could care less about them. [Reader] turned their gaze to Rollo and smiled, 

“Thank you for your kindness, Father Rollo.” 

From then, [Reader] had been living in the house provided by the church. Their place was warm and cozy, but most importantly, theirs. As days went by, [Reader] continued to attend weekly mass and stayed behind to help the community with events. Though Rollo was a well-known priest, he certainly wasn’t the only one present in the cathedral. The community had gotten together to thank the priests and were thinking of how to repay each one. The madam took the request and decided to host a small celebration for them with food and games for the community. 

The entire town was invited to attend and they did, for there was no greater honor than celebrating their townsmen. Rollo stood in the center, overseeing the event rather than partaking in it like the other priests. He saw how his colleagues engaged with the town, his eyes were trained on them. They had no problem mingling with others and taking the front while Rollo chose to stay behind. 

“Are you not enjoying yourself, Father Rollo?” 

He turned to the voice, it was [Reader]. 

“I am, but conversing with others isn’t something I do quite well at. I leave that task, to the others. What about you, [Reader]?” 

“Oh, I am as well. I too, don’t tend to mingle with others, at least not in events like this. It’s still taking me a while to adjust to being in control of my own life.” 

Rollo spared a glance at [Reader] who sadly reminisced. Their partner would often take control of the conversation and not allow [Reader] to speak. They would often leave [Reader] in social gatherings to fend for themselves and never acknowledge their feelings. After a while and per their adored partner’s request, stopped leaving their shared home. This resulted in [Reader] self-isolating.  

“I see. Often, just being in the company of someone you trust is more than enough at events like these. However I do hope that moving forward, we can heal from the past.” 

Socializing wasn’t his strong suit; if he did, it was always formal and respectful. There was no time for jokes or silly banter, that is why Rollo helped Fleur City behind the scenes. He handled all formal matters while the others tended to the city with their words and charisma. Even now, his words of comfort were formal and didn’t properly convey his feelings. 

“One day, I will join the crowd again and this time, maybe I can take you with me, Father Rollo. Oh, by the way, I have something for you.” 

Rollo faced [Reader] who was looking into their pocket. 

“Here! I know it doesn’t mean much and it’s certainly a very cheap gift, but I want to express my gratitude. Thank you for all that you’ve done, Father Rollo. Without you, I don’t think I would be here with the Madam and the Town, so thank you.” 

He looked at his hands to see a wine-red handkerchief with purple embroidery on the outer edges, his name was woven into the corner. It was a simple gift really, but the difference with most gifts that he received was that this was hand-made. Handmade with love, love from the person that he cared the most about. Rollo stammered, 

“T-Thank you, I shall keep this with me at all times. It’s lovely, [Reader].” 

[Reader] turned to see his eyes gazing deeply at theirs. It was different, unlike a small expression of gratitude with professionalism laced Rollo’s eyes betrayed him. Behind his eyes, desire and love peeked through, even if it was for a split moment. 

“Of course. . .my pleasure, Father Rollo.” 

Rollo was called shortly after to attend to a matter within the cathedral, but before parting from [Reader], he promised he would return promptly. Rollo left and attended the matter fairly quickly, but before leaving to meet up with [Reader], he walked to his office. Locking the door, he took out the handkerchief and brought it up to his nose, inhaling the sweet scent from it. 

‘[Reader]’ 

Rollo recalled the memory of when he first laid eyes on them. It wasn’t anything too special, he was just in town when he stumbled upon them. Rollo has observed throughout his life all the filth from others and their actions. [Reader] had remained a pure innocent soul devoid of any sins. 

‘ Humans are sinful creatures and  that is why we exist. . .’ 

Rollo had engraved that concept into his mind. There are 7 sins within mankind - pride, wrath, envy, gluttony, sloth, greed, and lust. Humans will lie, cheat, steal, manipulate, and take advantage of others for personal greed. In reality, society has failed itself and remains to be a stain on this world. [Reader] was a positive chum, but was a sight to behold in a world of sin. 

Rollo was walking through town, which was a rare sight considering the only place you could glance at him would be in the cathedral. He noticed hidden behind a stall that there was a child, looking confused and scared. 

‘ No doubt lost.’ 

Rollo thought to himself but did not step forward just yet. He recalled a conversation he had with the Madam, a woman whom he respected as she was not like the others either. She had devoted herself to the church and helping others after the passing of her husband.  She would confess that no human was free of sin, but that didn’t mean that they were undeserving of God’s love and a place in his kingdom. It was silly, but he remembered what he told her after, 

“You’re right Madam, everyone is worthy of God’s love. Though do not underestimate humanity’s free will, some of them choose to sin and relish in their filth.”  

The madam shook her head and reminded Rollo that he should not be so quick to place judgment on others, but it was futile. 

He recalled that memory as he saw the scene displayed in front of him, a defenseless child turning to adults begging for help. Those same ‘adults’ had brushed the child off and some even as far to push the child away. 

“P-Please, I can’t find my mommy-” 

“Not interested.” 

“Stay clear of the road! Damn, brats. . .” 

‘Are these the same people who deserve God’s love, Madam?’

Rollo began walking to the child but stopped when he noticed another individual walk up to the child, 

“My name is [Reader], are you lost? Did you lose your parents?” 

The child nodded and [Reader] lightly brushed the tears that were forming away, 

“I see, well let me try to help you find them. When did you see them last?” 

“I saw my mommy over there. . .” 

The child pointed towards the growing crowd. In theory, this mother could be anywhere but if she was observant then no doubt she noticed her child missing. [Reader] nodded and held out their hand to the child, asking permission to hold their hand. The child allowed it, letting [Reader] lead them into the crowd. The child's grip tightened, afraid to lose their newfound savior. Rollo followed them, wanting to make sure that this child wasn’t going to be kidnapped. He saw how ‘[Reader]’ was holding onto the child and stopping in the area, asking the child if they saw their mother. When the child shook their head, [Reader] would begin calling out if someone lost their child. The town was busy and [Reader’s] cries were lost to the wind, but they did not lose their determination. After half an hour, Rollo heard a woman frantically calling out what was probably the child's name as the child perked up at the mention of it. [Reader] carefully maneuvered their way across the crowd to reunite the mother and child. Rollo witnessed the scene of the mother and child holding each other close, the mother turning to [Reader] and thanking them, and [Reader] reassuring them. Rollo scoffed, one person was not enough to persuade his mind that humanity was any different. It didn’t just stop there, weeks after the incident they had another run-in with them - at a distance, of course. 

[Reader] was in the market with the intent of buying groceries, but instead offered to help the people at the stands. It was a never-ending cycle, when they finished their task another person went to them asking for help. 

‘They’re a fool, they’re being taken advantage of by the others-’ 

“I’m sorry, I wouldn’t mind helping but I haven’t finished my shopping. When I finish and if you still need help I can come back.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry [Reader], I didn’t mean to take up your time! It’s fine if you can’t, but thank you anyway.” 

[Reader] politely excused themselves and finished their shopping. A couple of instances off the top of his head that Rollo remembered, [Reader] buying food for a beggar on the street, helping an elderly person cross the street, helping a cat out of their collar once they noticed it was choking from it, and when they helped stitch back up a child's toy once it was ruined. Rollo was getting irritated at this point, 

‘Madam, I swear it’s like you enjoy tormenting me. . .are you trying to prove a point?’ 

The scowl written on his face was unwavering as he continued to observe this happy-go-lucky person. He managed to overhear the conversation between [Reader] and another person. 

“You’re so nice [Reader], it’s so rare to find someone who cares about people the way you do!” 

“You think so? I don’t think I am doing anything too grand, I just do what comes normal to me.” 

“Yes! You have a heart of gold, I mean you offer to help when needed. You should be careful though, people out there would take advantage of that kindness.” 

“Hm, I guess. I mean, I just do what I can but if it’s too much or something I can’t do I’m not opposed to saying no. I think a lot of people just think I’m too nice because they’re just used to being treated with little kindness. I don’t want to be a bystander if I can do something. I hold the door for people if they’re close and I’m not going to shut the door on them, it’s not like it takes too much time.” 

“Aw, you’re so nice.” 

“I don’t think so, I mean would you shut the door on me if I was behind you?” 

“Well. . .” 

“Then you’re just too mean.” 

[Reader] and the person exchanged a laugh before parting ways. Rollo stood still and turned to see [Reader] back in the distance, leaving the marketplace. His resolve didn’t sway, humans were still corrupt and undeserving of salvation, the only difference now was that there was an exception. Rollo would be lying if he sometimes didn’t go into town to glance at [Reader] and if he was lucky enough, he would be there at the same time. Over months though, he began to see less and less of them. He started to worry a bit, for the first weeks he chalked it up to [Reader] wanting time away from town but was surprised to know that nobody had seen them in the market for a month. Rollo approached a vendor, starting small talk, 

“Good morning, Father Rollo. How do you do today?” 

“I’m quite fine, thank you for asking. How about yourself?”

“Aw well, same! Business has been booming but I haven’t seen my top customer in a while!” 

“Oh, and who is that?” 

“[Reader]! They’re a sweet thing but suddenly stopped coming into town. I won’t lie, I am a little worried about them.” 

“[Reader]? I don’t believe I’ve seen them at mass. . .” 

“]Reader] used to go if I remember correctly, but I’m not too sure. I know they used to into town daily, aside from their work they loved to walk around the city. I think they stopped coming out as much a year or two ago, sometimes though they’ll come daily but it’s so rare when they do! I’m not quite sure why-!” 

“It’s because of their partner!” 

Rollo and the vendor turned to another person, an elderly lady who had joined the conversation. 

“Their partner. . .?” 

Rollo questioned, 

“Yes! At first, it was sweet. They met at [Readers’s] work and instantly became close, I would sometimes frequent their workplace you see. Their partner treated them with so much kindness but after a while, it was plain as day, he was isolating them! I remember I was walking home when I overheard them get into an argument, he wanted [Reader] to quit their job. [Reader] refused and that was the end of it, I’m not sure how they managed to persuade him because all I could hear was his yelling. After a while, [Reader] didn’t come to work and I thought they did quit, but when they came back they weren’t the same. They were still kind as ever, but you could tell something was off. Whenever they do come into town, it’s because their partner isn’t in Fleur City. I heard he sometimes goes back to take care of his ill parents.” 

Rollo was conflicted, who was this woman to be spreading such personal information of theirs but he had to thank her, without her, he never would have come to realize what needed to be done. Rollo had to admit, over the time he spent observing [Reader] he did become enamored with them. One true nature is revealed in several ways, how one presents oneself, their thoughts and actions, and what one preaches. Their nature had long been revealed, [Reader] was the only person whom Rollo believed was deserving of God’s love and he would not let them become a martyr for those deserving the flames of hell. 

Rollo set his plan in motion. He carefully wrote a letter and paid someone who the town would never recognize to deliver it into the hands of [Reader’s] partner. Their partner read the contents and before they could react, the person who delivered it had vanished to report to Rollo. 

“It’s been done?” 

“Yes, Father Rollo. May I ask though, what do you plan-” 

“That’s enough, you needn't worry about the content of the letter. Your task was to deliver, which you have. You’re free to go.” 

The man excused himself, leaving Rollo at his desk with his elbows propped but his hands were close together. He was deep in thought, 

“He would be wise to appear later tonight if he truly cares for his parents.” 

Later that night, their partner had walked down to the waterways. There, they met a cloaked individual. 

“Are you the one who sent me that letter? Who the fuck do you think you are to threaten my family-!” 

“I wouldn’t if I were you.” 

The cloaked individual placed their hand out, to halt them from coming closer. They used that same hand to point upwards. When [Reader’s] partner looked up, they were met with several shadows who were not afraid to display their weapons. 

“What do you want?” 

Their partner scoffed out. The cloaked individual spoke out, 

“You have a partner by the name of [Reader]. Let’s just say that they owe me something, that being said it’s hard for us to come in contact with one another. This is where you come in, I need you to lure them into town. Do it on a rainy day, when there are fewer people to overhear, but I need you to lure them to the center of town. Make sure that nobody sees you two or asks about you, do you understand?” 

“What do they owe you-?!” 

“That’s none of your concern! Just, lure them into the center of the town. My men will be watching to make sure no one interferes but remember, if someone comes to find out about this plan. Well, you know what will happen to your family, understood?” 

Their partner gulped in fear and nodded, 

“You may go, and remember to not tell a single soul about this. I’ll always be listening.” 

They remained still for a brief moment, processing the words of the individual, before running out. Once they were out of sight, the person removed their cloak. Rollo stood in the center, looking at the moon and breathing out a sigh of relief. Those armed shadows turned to Rollo and asked, 

“Father Rollo, may I ask who that man is?” 

“Just someone this world would be better without. Keep me updated on his location and if he says anything. Remember, this is all to protect Fleur City.” 

Rollo disappeared within the waterways. 

Rollo approached the fireplace in his office and looked down at the handkerchief once more before tenderly caressing it into his face. 

“[Reader], I’ll repeat your name over and over like a prayer, I’d never tire of it. . .if only you knew of all things I did for you to be by my side. . .” 

The memory rolled over in his head, 

“There is a storm coming, we should make preparations in case of anything.” 

“Oh, you’re always so diligent and a step ahead, Father Rollo.” 

“Madam, one can never be too prepared.” 

The madam shook her head at Rollo’s comments but carried out his request. He had stood in preparation for anything. If what was revealed was true, then [Reader] was certainly being isolated by their partner. Their abusive partner would take advantage of another. That being said, he planned to make it so that they lured [Reader] out into the center of town, where the cathedral lay. Their partner may not know it as he was certain he had never seen him before but [Reader] should. They would request sanctuary from the church and there, He would be by the door, awaiting his beloved with open arms. 

Before he knew it, he could hear the shouts and screams outside the door. 

“Sanctuary, give me sanctuary!” 

Before long, Rollo had opened the door and with a perfect facade, displayed concern. He could tell the way their partner trembled that he had feared for his family, he was caught by the church. Their partner had no choice but to flee the scene with their tail between his legs. After Rollo instructed the Madam to watch over [Reader], Rollo had the guards chase after their partner. In the meantime, Rollo had placed his cloak on and made his way to the outskirts of town where he was being held. 

“L-Let me go! Damn it, it wasn’t my fault-!” 

“Didn’t I tell you not to let anyone interfere?” 

“I-it wasn’t my fault! The church and that stupid priest got in the way! P-please leave my f-family alone-!” 

Rollo removed his cloak and presented himself to their ex-partner. 

“Y-you!?” 

“Don’t worry, your family won’t suffer. Though I will admit, I didn’t think you would go through with sacrificing them.” 

“Y-You threatened my family, w-why wouldn’t I?” 

“I suppose there is some logic to that reason. Tell me, did you even love them?” 

“W-what? I-I suppose I did?” 

“You suppose? You’re not certain?” 

Rollo questioned them further, 

“I mean yes! Yes, I did love them! W-what does this have to do with anything, you said they owed you something no-?” 

“ No, they don’t. I did this more to see what you would do and you played right into it. Once again, I was proved right. Humanity is undeserving of God’s love and salvation, you’re all just scum that turn against each other at any moment it’s convenient. You disgust me.” 

“Y-You did this to prove a point!? Y-You think I won’t reveal to the townspeople who their beloved priest is?” 

“Not very intelligent either, are you? I’m not worried, because this is where judgment shall be passed onto you. This goes a little deeper than what you think, but no matter. I hereby declare you, guilty, and your sentence, punished by death. Dispose of him.” 

Rollo turned around, ignoring the pleas of that man. He did turn around to see their execution, before turning back. 

“We shall burn his body, but in the meantime place him somewhere no one will find out. Oh and, arrange for someone to take care of his parents. Hire a doctor to live with them.” 

The others nodded and carried out the order. Rollo headed back to town with a clear conscious. 

His attention remained on the flames. They had burned his body and afterward, devised a plan to break the news to his parents.  As far as they were concerned, he had passed away from a natural cause but because he was such a good member of the church, he was able to have a doctor stay with them full-time. He placed a chaste kiss on the handkerchief, 

‘This burning desire is turning me to sin. . .’ 

~ 

Rollo was sitting at the Confessional and while he was a man of God, he was also human. Like humans, he was running short of his patience. Father Rollo was a devoted man to his occupation, but of course, even messengers of God need time of their own. He was covering for another priest, Father Phoebus, who unexpectedly became ill. Rollo’s face turned into one of annoyance and anger, he was certain that the priest wasn’t ill but rather skipping out on his duties. 

‘ No matter, confession ends in about 10 minutes. . .I just need to hold out till then.’ 

Rollo’s optimistic outlook was shattered the moment he heard someone else sit on the other side of the confessional. He rolled his eyes before turning to the wooden lattice opening but stiffened when he saw it was [Reader]. Luckily, this confessional was designed so that the priest would be hidden away and the penitent was visible. 

“I do apologize for coming in so late, Father Phoebus. . but I would like to confess my sins.” 

Rollo cleared his throat, 

“Of course, please, confess to me what ails you.” 

He placed his gaze at [Reader], who remained unaware that instead of Father Phoebus, it was Rollo. 

“Right, to be honest, I’m not quite sure where to begin. All I know is, I’m committing a grave sin. I ... . .in love with a man that I cannot have. He is married to a vow.” 

Rollo’s breath hitched, turned to stare at [Reader] who looked down in regret and disappointment.

“M-married? May I ask, which vow this man is married to?” 

[Reader] stiffened at the question, 

“Father Phoebus. . .it's Father Rollo who I am enamored with. He is God's messenger and as such, I know my feelings will never be reciprocated yet! Yet, I can’t help but still love him.” 

Rollo knew that Reader required guidance and genuine support, but he couldn’t help the need or desire after hearing that the one he loved also felt the same. He pulled out the wine-red handkerchief with the beautiful purple embroidery that outlined the cloth and spelled his name on the corner. He knew it was wrong, but he couldn’t help it as his dick hardened at the idea of [Reader]. 

“T-tell me, how much you love him?” 

Rollo swallowed the lump in his throat. 

“O-Oh w-well. . .” 

It was an awkward question no doubt so there was some resistance from [Reader]. Rollo pressed on, 

“I would like to know how deep your admiration goes so that I c-can properly guide you.” 

“R-right. . well, I love him. At first, I thought it was just admiration because he helped me get back on my feet. When I gave him his handkerchief, I saw more than a simple thanks on his face, but a face of genuine gratitude, which made me fall deeper. I know he’s only being kind to me because it’s the right thing to do and not because of any special treatment, but I can’t help but-” 

Rollo continued to listen to their feelings, but he would be lying if he said that he wasn’t thinking about stroking his cock to their voice. Rollo had never experienced such feelings towards anyone before, but after meeting [Reader] he became a victim of the sin of greed and lust. 

“Though I will admit, maybe the reason I love him is because I feel safe and secure with him. With my past partner, I didn’t feel the same sense of security. I did at first, but after a while, they became the aggressor. I’m not sure why I didn’t leave immediately after and I kept beating myself up about but Father Rollo, assured me that it was not my fault. He was so kind and understanding, it was different from the others who told me something similar. It was sincere from both sides, but with him it was. . it was different.” 

When they finished confessing, Rollo spoke, 

“I don’t think you should be ashamed of your feelings. It’s a natural human thing to feel, love that is. You’re right, Father Rollo is a man tied to an oath by the Church. Under the eyes of God, he may not reciprocate your feelings but that doesn’t mean he would see you any less different. Your sins are forgiven, my child.” 

[Reader] nodded and bid farewell to ‘Father Phoebus’. Rollo watched their figure retreat and let out a breath of relief. Though he could not stop the pounding in his heart nor the tent in his pants. 

~ 

“F-Fuck! [R-Reader]-!” 

Rollo had retreated to his office once confessions were over, there he had his handkerchief wrapped around his dick, jerking himself off. The one that he loved felt the same for him but he was sure their love was not the same as his obsession with them. Such a pure and innocent crush on him whereas he shamefully was stroking his cock to the idea of touching them. 

“Ha. . ha. . wanna t-touch you, fuck-!” 

He threw his head back at the pleasure, how would [Reader] react to seeing their beloved Father Rollo fuck the handkerchief that they had gifted him. His orgasm was approaching and his whines were getting louder, he leaned over his table and spilled his seed onto the wine-red cloth, sweat adorning his face. He let out a sigh of relief and sat down on his chair. He thought of [Reader] and this new found confession. Rollo’s mind was made up. 

~ 

“I think we’re all good to go, [Reader] we’re heading out now!” 

“Have a good night!” 

[Reader] bid the other church volunteers farewell before giving the church one last good look. They were about to grab their things to depart as well before the doors opened. They turned to look at Father Rollo, who emerged from his office. 

“F-Father Rollo. . .what brings you out here so late?” 

“I’m just giving the Church one final look, but I did hope to catch you before you left.” 

“Me?” 

“Yes, come [Reader], take a walk with me.” 

[Reader] approached Rollo and their walk began. He was taking them across the Cathedral to put out the candles. 

“I know it’s been a while, but how have you been enjoying yourself in Fleur City?” 

“Oh, just fine! Thank you again, for all that you’ve done of course. It certainly feels amazing being able to freely leave and return without being shackled down. Not to mention, it’s a lot more eventful than I remember.” 

“I see, Father Pheobus has attempted to get more events hosted by the church. He would like the city to get together once in a while. It’s something new that he has been doing, but it seems that the townspeople enjoy it.” 

“That they do, may I ask, Father Rollo? Do you not like to get involved in events like these?” 

The main hall of the Cathedral was darkening with each step, 

“I wouldn’t say I dislike it. Socializing with others isn’t my strong suit, I tend to other matters that I excel at rather than mistakenly saying something I don’t mean.” 

[Reader] had noticed that Rollo tended to stay in the shadows and only speak when something needed to be said. If someone approached him and tried conversing, Rollo would maintain the utmost professionalism. He wasn’t one for idle chatter but never turned someone down if they wanted to have a word with him. Rollo continued his task, with [Reader] following close behind. 

“That’s fair. Sometimes not saying anything is the proper response, but I can see how that may stress you out. After all, you are a priest and everyone’s eyes are on you. Sorry, don’t mean to add to the pressure either.” 

As the candles were extinguished one by one, Rollo’s heels added to the ominous vibe that the Cathedral was giving. 

“You’re right, [Reader]. As a priest, all their eyes are on me waiting to hear what I  say but as such, my eyes are also on them. Despite what I preach, I believe that not everyone is capable of salvation. Humans are not devoid of sin, that is the truth. Though we are created in God’s image, we certainly are not perfect. There are those where their sins are mistakes and nothing more. Then some’s sins are perfectly under their control yet still choose to see nothing wrong in their actions. You can have that outlier where one of those wishes to repent and truly feel regret, but then some parade around shamelessly into God’s house asking for forgiveness. It’s laughable.” 

[Reader] remained silent. There was nothing they could say because ultimately, Father Rollo was right to some degree. Though they would be lying if they weren’t off-put by his sudden change. 

“ Did you know that the baker is having an affair? Ongoing for four years actually, yet he never fails to bring his wife and kids into mass every Sunday morning, thanking God for allowing them to live the way they do. They recently had their marriage anniversary, married for 10 years to be exact. I remember I was the one who renewed their vows. His words still ring in my head,”

“I will love you forever and until the end. You’re the pillar that provides me with the strength to keep going. I would never want another partner other than you, the woman I chose to be the mother of my children. I thank God for this blessing that is you, my love.” 

“How romantic, don’t you think? That same night he went back to his other partner, claiming that they had a big order for an event and he needed to be one step ahead of the game. How could I forget the previous head of the Orphanage, asking for food to provide for the children? The church and townspeople helped with what they could, but every time those children would come into mass they remained as thin as ever but the head remained full and content. It wasn’t until I stepped in and of course, led an investigation to find out that he was starving the kids and eating all the food. Now the orphanage is under the care of the Church, to be more specific, under my direct care. Don’t you see how happy those children are every time you come to mass? I even remember when Madam first came to the church, she told us the story of her husband's passing. She and her beloved husband were walking back home when an armed assailant was waiting for them, upon asking for their valuables he stabbed her husband over 27 times before fleeing. When the man was caught, he was just a petty thief who confessed to the crime. Their reasoning was they had no need to steal but got a kick out of watching the fear in the eyes of the defenseless manifest and to make matters worse, this was his first time killing since he never dared to do it before. What could an elderly man do to him had he chosen to fight back, nothing. That same thief pleaded with God before his execution that I had carried out, to spare him.” 

By the time Rollo had gotten to his part in his talk, almost all the candles were out except for four in the front of the altar. There Rollo turned around, facing [Reader] who stood in the middle closest to the altar. He was closest to the church doors but that area had been pitch black. He continued his speech and though he did not pose a threat to [Reader], yet, They couldn’t help the goosebumps that were forming on their skin and the sudden draft within the Cathedral. 

“Of course, the world is not black and white. There is no right or wrong, for if there was I too would have been punished. It’s not practical for me to base my distaste of humanity on a few bad apples, Madam, even after everything she went through still says that everyone deserves salvation but it’s like you said, [Reader]. We’re all so used to this world the way it is that a simple act of kindness, normalcy if you will, is considered a rarity.” 

[Reader] had recalled when they told that vendor that, those were their words and they still stood by it. The only thing was, they told that to the vendor, not Rollo. They shakily took a step back but kept their eyes trained on Rollo. He noticed their expression as well as their stance, but it was no use. The door to the church was locked and only Rollo had the key. He took a step forward, emerging from the darkness and [Reader] took a step back. 

“F-Father Rollo. . is this what you wanted to talk to me about? Sorry. . I just don’t know how this relates to me. . .” 

He let out a chuckle, 

“ You asked why I don’t like to get involved, right? That is my answer. It’s hard to get involved when I am surrounded by the same people I wish I could condemn. However, you are different. I’ll let you in on a little secret, I too have been keeping an eye on you long before we officially met.  You treated everyone with kindness even those that did not deserve it. You remained as human as possible, someone who could voice their feelings and care for everyone equally, even yourself. It was a sight for sore eyes, like an angel in a sea of devils. You tried your best and worked hard, but you knew what you could and couldn’t do. You were even starting to make me regain hope in this world but I quickly noticed that warm light inside of you start to flicker. It was all because of him, [Partner’s Name]. He had slowly started to dim that warm light inside of you and I couldn’t do anything, or so I thought. Your partner driving you out of your home was not accidental,  I can assure you. I had him lure you here, into the Church. There, I was able to save you from him.” 

[Reader’s] breath hitched. They had always assumed that all the events that led up to now were a mere coincidence, life just being its usual confusing self. It was not unusual for their partner to enter their shared home and demand things, bossing them around. They had assumed that it was the usual same old story. This didn’t change how they saw their partner and their relief that he was no longer in their life, but it changed their perception of Rollo. Had Rollo orchestrated their whole thing? Since when? For how long? Most importantly, for what? 

“Since we are in a church, I might as well confess. I have kept my eye on every single Fleur citizen since I became a priest, but I have kept my eye on you for months now. It’s hard for me to communicate with everyone, but not you [Reader]. Since I’ve been admiring you from a distance, I’ve come to love you. I love your person and your way of being. Your kindness, your truth, your struggles, everything about you I have come to love.” 

By now, [Reader] was up against the altar with Rollo standing in front of them. Both were illuminated by the remaining candles, his hand reached out to caress their cheek. 

“I’ve come to love everything about you, [Reader], even the parts that you aren’t aware of. I’ll remain to love them as well, for there is no one else.” 

“F-Father R-Rollo, I-!” 

He leaned closer to them, his piercing blue-green eyes staring into [Readers] fearful and confused ones. He placed a kiss on their lips, tilting their head back to get a better angle. Seconds passed before he lifted his lips from them, 

“. .And if you were to fall into sin, let it be by my hands.” 

Conflicted could not begin to describe it. The person they loved reciprocated their feelings, so much that they kissed at this very moment. Though logically speaking, Rollo had just admitted to orchestrating the whole thing. Who knew what was the truth and what was a lie? Did their partner move? Was it willingly? Most importantly, did it matter? Sure, maybe there was a time when logic was sound but that time wasn’t right now. Thinking with their heart, [Reader] kissed back. They shared a deep and sensual kiss that neither one dared to break. Rollo pushed his body up against [Reader], grinding into them. The altar luckily wasn’t too high, but there were small steps on either side that allowed them to effortlessly get on the altar. Rollo managed to push their back flat against the cold marbled table, 

“F-Father R-Rollo, are you sure? Y-you’re a man with a vow and-” 

“[Reader], I love you.” 

Their eyes widened once more at the confession and looking up, they weren’t meant with the Rollo they knew. He was no longer stoic and professional, this Rollo was vulnerable. His cheeks were flushed pink as he straddled [Reader’s] hips. His body loomed over theirs and his hands went to open their top. His eyes were glossed over with love and desire. [Reader’s] top was opened to expose their chest and his hands lightly touched their skin. His cold fingers trailed from their neck, chest, and lastly their nipples. Rollo let out a shaky sigh, 

“I love you. Let me worship you, with God as my witness let me prove my devotion to you. .” 

Rollo’s lips neared [Reader’s] and they exchanged a kiss. He lightly bit on their bottom lip, asking for permission to further taste them. A moan escaped [Reader] but they opened their mouth to allow his tongue inside. Rollo pressed himself further into [Reader], afraid to let go. Needing air, [Reader] placed their hands on his clothed chest, pushing against it. Releasing their lips, Rollo straightened but released a breathy moan. [Reader] could see the warmth spreading across his pale skin, but could also feel his growing bulge. Rollo began to lean back down but stopped when [Reader] went to open his top. He allowed them to strip him of his shirt, allowing his pale chest to be exposed. 

“I want to see you too, R-Rollo. . .” 

The tip of his ears turned pink at the comment. He leaned down to their neck, licking up and down. Nibbling and biting down to create hickeys. His lips trailed down, kissing the skin around the newly formed hickey and down to their chest. Moans spilled from both Rollo and [Reader], the pleasure shared between the two. His tongue swirled around their nipple, lightly biting and sucking on them. [Reader] tenderly held Rollo’s head as he worked on their chest. Shaky breaths echoed throughout the Cathedral. 

“F-Fuck. . R-Rollo-!” 

Rollo lifted himself from their chest and saw the bright pink/red circular marks all across their chest. 

“Not enough. . .it’s not e-enough. . “ 

Rollo leaned back down, kissing down to their navel area. His hands played with their bottoms, opening them agonizingly slow. He pulled them down their legs and he shifted back, making sure he could properly remove them. 

“F-Fuck, y-your sex. . .” 

Rollo’s shaky moans slipped out, he stared in awe at [Reader’s] aroused sex. He shifted back before nearing their sex and inhaling their scent. Rollo’s fingers carefully touched around, going to their most sensitive spot and circling his finger around. 

“R-Rollo…right there…feels good….” 

Rollo nodded, continuing to circle his finger. After a while he leaned down, placing his tongue on their sensitive spot. He licked around, replacing the movement of his finger, and began to lick up and down. [Reader] let out soft moans and breaths as he continued pleasuring them. He began to kiss, suck, lick, pinch, and stroke their sensitive bits. Rollo took a break to lick his fingers and pushed them against [Reader’s] hole. Lightly inserting a finger inside, feeling them clench around it. 

“Do you lust for me. . the same way I lust for you?” 

“ I-I’ve a-always wanted you-ngh!” 

Though Rollo wasn’t attending to their sex with his mouth, he was still reaching inside them with his fingers. Slipping a second finger to curl up against that soft spot inside them, pumping rhythmically. Rollo leaned back down, placing his mouth back on their sex. Rollo himself wasn’t too experienced, but based on their sounds, he knew more or so where to touch. His long slender fingers managed to reach thoroughly and the stimulation with his tongue was overwhelming.

“F-Fuck Rollo, g-gonna cum-!” 

Rollo continued to abuse their sex, giving them that final push needed to orgasm. Rollo’s face was drenched with drool and cum, but still managed to swallow everything that they released. He unbuttoned his pants, releasing his cock that was already leaking pre-cum. He wrapped his hands around it, stroking himself. 

“Can I-fuck! P-put it inside you. . .?” 

Rollo’s half-lidded eyes pleaded with [Reader’s], begging to fuck them.  [Reader] propped themself up with their elbow, sat up, and kissed him. Rollo leaned forward to reciprocate. They placed their hands on his cheeks and lightly caressed, 

“You may. . .but can I. .be on top?” 

Rollo softly nodded, letting [Reader] guide him to lie down on the altar instead. [Reader] went to stimulate his already hard dick, but wrapped their hands around it and jerk him, smearing his pre-cum around. They licked their fingers and trailed them down to their hole, lightly fingering themselves to adjust to his size. They scissored themself and when they were ready, hovered over his cock. They lowered themselves onto Rollo’s cock, clenching down on his dick. 

“F-Fuck you’re tight-!” 

Rollo threw his head back at the sensation and his hands reached to hold [Reader’s] hip. [Reader] stayed still to adjust to his size but after a while, began to move. Riding his cock, [Reader] threw their head back as breaths left them, their back slowly arching. Rollo thrust, matching their pace as well. One of his hands moved to their sex, stimulating it at the same pace. 

Aside from the candles, the moonlight entered the Cathedral through the stained glass. The hue of the deep blues and purples reflected off their skin, creating an almost angelic glow. Their moans and whines echoed throughout the church, Rollo’s back was on the altar and his body coated in sweat. His eyes glossed over with tears, looking over at [Reader] who fared the same. Their body was sweaty and warm, their movements were slowing with time. Rollo’s thrust became more erratic, reaching deeper into [Reader]. 

“I-I’m close-! F-Fuck, f-feels s-so good-! Rollo!” 

Mewls spilled out of [Reader]’s mouth. 

“M-Me too-! I-I love you! L-Love you so much! God, I love you so much, [Reader]!” 

“I l-love you too, R-Rollo-!” 

With their final declaration of love, [Reader] came all over Rollo and he came deep inside of them. Their deep breaths were heard throughout the cathedral. [Reader] slumped on top of Rollo with his cock still inside them. They nuzzled into Rollo’s neck, peppering light kisses. 

“Love you s’much, Rollo.” 

“I love you too. . .[Reader].” 

His arms wrapped around them, pressing them closer into him. They stayed like that for a while, before [Reader] perked up, looking at his face. 

“I-I do have a question though. . .did you know that I liked you?” 

Rollo looked down to see their curious gaze, he adverted his eyes with a blush staining his cheeks. 

“It. . .it wasn’t Father Pheobus in the Confessional. It. . .it was me. . .” 

[Readers] face fell, 

“S-SO I CONFESSED TO YOU?” 

[Reader] buried their face in his neck, Rollo let out a soft smile at their antics. 

“That you did. Though I am glad, without you confessing to me, this never would have happened.” 

Still buried in his neck, they mumbled a couple of words. 

“I love you. . .” 

Rollo, of course, said it back. He could hear their soft snores, they had passed out from exhaustion. Only one thought lay in his mind, there was no one else other than him that could preserve the purity within [Reader]. 

‘If hellfire must consume me, so be it. I will never let anyone else take you away from me. Your purity is for me to preserve and to taint, no one else.’ 

This was only the beginning of the tragic tell that would come about to Twisted Wonderland. The story of the righteous priest and judge who burned down Fleur City, all because of their desire for someone they could never truly have. 

A/N: So that was a long one. . .how we feeling? I don’t think I will ever write a part 2, sorry :(( UNLESS I get inspiration but I do want to write headcanons for him so maybe? That being said I will be posting another post that will talk about the future of this blog (I AM NOT LEAVING DW)! That being said, I want to thank my friends for helping me with this fic! Special mention to my friend who helped me confirm his personality for me (I love you Nova) and my other friend, who got horny thoughts when they went to church! :3 

[goldessia]

RUINED REPUTATION — k. bkg x assistant reader

sum. katsuki bakugo is the #1 professional hero. because of this, he built an agency, and wound up hiring an assistant to help him with publicity and to do majority of his paperwork for him... something he didn’t expect was for that assistant to be so damn attractive.

warnings. injury, intoxication, makeouts, smut!mdni (in future chapters!)

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 (wip)

a/n. haii! thanks for tuning in for the second chapter :) hope you like this so far! not proofread — let me know if there’s any mistakes!

tag list: @lovra974 , @gold24fish, @bkgirl, @bigsimpo343 , @missyaess

“i.. i didn’t know where else to go.”

…

here he was, dynamight himself, standing in-front of my front door with blood pooling his shirt.

i sputter. what do i even say in this situation? my boss was at my front door, looking intoxicated and like he was near to death.

“sir?” i say in nearly a whisper, “what.. what are you doing here?”

he groaned, and i couldn’t tell if it was from pain or not. “stop.. stop calling me that.” he huffs, clutching the doorframe harder, the wood sizzling.

“sorry—“ i catch myself, “um, dynamight.”

“don’t call me that shit either.” he stares me in the eye as he says, “just.. just call me katsuki. ‘don’t care.”

i meekly nod. we’re on a first name basis now?

not wanting my doorframe to burn off, i take his hand off my doorframe and sling his arm around my shoulders. when he leans his weight onto me, i nearly collapse but manage to keep myself composed.

to think we were just talking about him merely a few hours ago, and now he’s here, as if we summoned him like some sort of demon.

.. well, demon isn’t too far off.

i shut the door behind me, katsuki’s feet stumbling as i try to lead him towards the bathroom where i kept my medical aid.

i guess my year trying to be a nurse is paying off before i switched majors, as i still have the supplies and knowledge i gained from it.

“what the hell happened?” i ask, voice low as to not wake my un-suspecting roommate.

“ts’ guy at a bar, nggh!” he hisses as we drop a step, his hand unintentionally pushing farther into his wound. i mutter an apology.

he’s breathing heavily, like he’s gasping for air. i can feel his biceps clench with every walk we take, his sharp exhale at every step he as to walk on his left-injured side.

clearing my throat, i prompt, “guy at a bar?”

“had a.. a fuckin mouth onim’.” he says heavily, “put that pussy in his place.”

if dynamight is this bad.. i wonder how the guy he was fighting was looking like right now.

“as your assistant.. fuck you for causing another scene.” i say, kicking open the bathroom door, “as your temporary.. friend, good for you.”

i cringe at the word friend. friend seems weird — off.

“good for me, my ass.” he hisses as i place him against the counter, pushing his torso to tell him to sit.

he does.

the reality of the situations continues to dawn on me; my boss is in my house, in my proximity that i live in everyday. i shower in this very bathroom. it felt.. weird.

i clear my throat, trying to ignore the butterflies of anxiousness in my stomach.

“katsuki,” i test, the name unfamiliar on my tongue, “take off your shirt.” from my peripheral vision, i can see him smirk. i send a look his way, face flushing in embarrassment.

“not like.. like that.” i stutter, “‘just take off your damn shirt.”

he stares at me, blinks, then tuts his tongue and says—“yes, ma’am.”—weak, shaken hands gripping the end of his shirt and pulling it over his head in one clean move.

it both irritates me and confuses me how simply he had done it.

he drops it in the floor, too weak to care where he put it—conveniently on my brand new white bathmat.

i try to ignore how it irritates me.

“i’ll buy you.. a new one.” he breathes, falling back against the marble wall, touching a hand to the wound on his stomach and hissing a breath through his teeth.

i rummage through the drawer of supplies, purposefully avoiding looking his way out of respect — and for my own sanity.

luckily, sutures was the unit we last worked on before i switched majors, meaning the information was still fairly fresh in my mind.

taking a step closer to the hero, i smell a waft of alcohol seep off of his skin. whiskey, no doubt.

i clear my throat. “i didn’t peg you for a whiskey guy.” i say, hoping to clear some of the overwhelming awkwardness.

he grimaces when i touch an alcohol pad around the wound, cleaning the dried blood surrounding the cut.

“i’m any typa’ guy on the right occasion.” he gives a toothy grin as he says this, abs flexing from my touch.

i blink. finally meeting his eyes, i realize just how close our bodies were, my hands on his torso, standing between his legs as he sits on the counter.

i knew he was supposed to be fit considering his work involved constantly pushing his body to the brink, but man.

he was toned, abs chiseled, biceps molded and flexing with every touch to his wound. his body resembled that of a god, and even if his body was bruised and broken it still looked perfect.

his eyes are piercing, ruby-bright red paired with a shiny, toothy grin placed between his lips.

“whatcha starin’ at, hm?” he slurs. i can feel the breathe from his lips.

my eyes flick away. i murmur a, “..nothing”, clearing my throat and picking up the needle to suture the wound. "so.. what happened for you to get this wound?"

"you're really beautiful, y'know that?" katsuki breathes, eyes scanning over my face.

"what?" i flush, momentarily freezing.

he chuckles, the scent of alcohol seeping over my face as he breathes out, "everyday, when you show up in those outfits ya got.. drives me insane.."

i am unsure what to do. staring into katsuki's eyes, i can see he's totally out of it; he doesn't mean any of this, it's just the alcohol talking!

.. then again, drunk words are sober thoughts.

i scoff, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear as i rip my gaze away. "you're drunk, katsuki," slowly, i am getting used to the name, "you're just talking nonesense."

"i'd never lie t' a pretty girl like you." he says, leaning closer, dangerously close. "anyone ever tell ya you got the most beautiful eyes?"

he reaches a hand toward me, tipping my chin up to look at him, rough and calloused hands scraping against the skin across my jaw.

suddenly, the room is too hot, his touch is too hot and i can feel myself slowly going insane. i find myself wanting more, more, his hands all over--

no! what the hell am i saying, he's drunk, and unlike himself. once he sobers up, he'll realize how stupid his words were.

but oh, his touch was addicting.

"katsuki.." i whisper, feeling his hand slowly move across my collarbone. he leans toward me, his lips resting over my ear, his breath on my skin flowing down my neck. so warm, so soothing.

"y'know, everyday when you show up in them' jeans ya wear.." he inhales, the sound loud in my ear, "makes me so fucking turned on."

i take a deep breath, trying to compose myself, trying to resist; he wouldn't want this, not if he were sober.

i swallow, "katsuki." i say with more certainty.

"mm, say that again." he rasps, kissing just below my ear with such gentleness i am surprised. his lips are hot, wet, his tongue dragging softly over my skin. i feel my body heat up, having to lean against the counter because i was afraid my legs would give out.

resist. resist, all you have to do is push away.

"you.. you wouldn't want this if you were sober." i huff, my face a bright, hot pink of fluster.

a chuckle comes from his chest, "this is all i want when i'm sober. all i can think 'bout, girl."

he pulls away from my neck, and i sigh in relief before opening my eyes to see him right in-front of me. his hand grabs my chin, slanting my head to the side, waiting painfully close as if to wait for me to make the first move.

and i know it's bad. the cliche of bosses sleeping with their assistants always irked me, and considering i was an assistant for dynamight i never considered he would ever sleep with me.

but now... if what he is saying is true, my predictions were nothing but the complete opposite.

and all i can think is: well, fuck, as i crash my lips against his. his mouth is hot, fiery, just as i assumed it to be. his tongue instantly pushes against mine, teeth grazing each other as our lips meet in a hasty battle.

tongues dancing against each other, i am instantly overwhelmed. kissing has never been this sweet, this passionate with my previous partners. a raw, thick naturalness comes between katsuki and i, as if being this close to one another was simply fate.

"this is.. bad--!" i mutter between the breathes we are forced to take, his hand instead finding my hips and pulling me against the counter. i am forced to stand on my tippy-toes as his other hand finds my hair, grasping it as if to hold him to reality.

i understand that much. i feel like if it weren't for his grasp on my skin, i would simply be in a dream instead of this being a reality.

and if this is a dream, i don't think i want to ever wake up.

i bring a hand up to his torso, my hand accidentally grazing over his wound. he groans into my lips, hand clutching my hair even tighter, yet he doesnt stop his assault to dominate my mouth.

i gasp. he's wounded! what am i thinking?!

gathering all the restraint in my body, i push away from him, my back slamming into the wall behind me. i finally take a breath, heavy pants leaving my mouth as i stare at him.

a groan of frustration leaves his lips, his back falling against the wall. it seemed the dopamine had allowed the affect of the wound to become nothing more than a little thorn in his side, but now that it had run out the pain started coming back.

"please.." katsuki whispers, "'feels better when yer kissing me.."

then, there's a knock on the door.

"y/n? is everything alright in there?" mina's voice comes from outside the door.

i look between katsuki and the door, seeing his love-drunk eyes and his current state; anyone with eyes could see he was aroused, not to mention the prominent boner tenting his pants.

"uh—“ i say, "yeah I’m—i'm okay." i say back, clearing my throat, "jus' go back to bed, mina."

"you sure..? you're talking kinda weird, i'm just gonna come in—“

"no!' i panic, before realizing my tone was still suspicious.

"that' the acid freak from school?" katsuki's brows furrow, "what's that brat doin' here?"

"who's that?!" mina calls from outside the door, "wait.. thats—!"

"OKAY!" i yell in frustration, "i'm opening the door!"

i slowly crack open the door, quickly closing it behind me and leaving katsuki in the bathroom.

mina’s eyes are wide. “what. the fuck. is katsuki bakugo doing in our apartment at three in the morning?!”

i sigh, rubbing a hand over my face, “i don’t know. he just.. he just came to the front door, injured.”

“so.. bring him to the hospital!” mina says in a duh tone.

“how do you think it’d look if his assistant was with him at three in the morning?” i say in a whisper-yell, “look, it’s just a simple cut. i can suture it up, and he’ll be fine by the morning.”

she shifts on her feet, uneasy. “okay. but it still feels weird.”

i run a hand over my face, “yeah, i know. it is weird.”

she eyes me, her head slanting ever so slightly. “are you alright? you look all… flustered..” then, her eyes widen as if in a realization, “wait—!”

before she can speak, i cut her off. “okayimleavingnowbye!” i sputter, rushing toward the bathroom and closing it behind me.

i inhale a deep breath, face flushing at the idea of being caught making out with my boss.

“how about you uh.. do me a favour and stitch me up now, huh, princess?” katsuki smiles as he says this.

i turn to him. “don’t call me that.”

“uh-huh.”

[s0dium]

Business

Alpha!Gojo x Omega!Reader

A/n: I know its been a long time in the works, but its finally here! The second part to the Alpha series! I did not expect the sukuna one to blow up like ALMOST 10K HOLY SHIT. Neway I hope you guys enjoy :) ALSO THANK YOU FOR 10K FOLLOWERS!!!!

Synopsis: For most of your life, you did a pretty decent job of hiding the fact that you were an omega. So when you met your boss for the first time, the feeling in your stomach was un-recognizable to you. The feeling was fear, fear that someone knew who you really were.

Warnings: Stalking, drugging, DUB-CON, knotting, heat, breeding, sub-space, reader is love sick, pet names, teasing, dry humping, squirting, kidnapping (if you squint)

Check out part one!: Cursed (Alpha!Sukuna x Omega! Reader) 🔞

~

For most of your life, you did a pretty decent job of hiding the fact that you were an omega.

When you went to apply for a job people automatically assumed that you were a normal beta from your average appearance or your scentless body. Even your friends, ones who had stuck by your side since elementary school, believed the lie that you were, well, normal.

So when you met your boss for the first time, the feeling in your stomach was un recognizable to you. The feeling was fear, fear that someone knew who you really were.

At first you thought it was just anxiety about the new job and meeting such an intimating alpha. To be fair, Gojo was one of the tallest men you had ever laid eyes on and the fact that you could see his muscles through his suit didnt help either. But it was the way he looked at you that really set you off. Sometimes you could see his sky blue eyes glint behind the lenses and pupils dilate when he locked gazes with you; like a predator eyeing his prey. And then there where times where he got a little too close, like when the two of you were stuck in an elevator and he leaned over to press a button and you swear you heard him inhale the scent of your hair.

But then again, maybe you were just paranoid. Yeah, it could totally be just that.

~

“Y/n?”

You turned around from your office desk and faced your co worker, Kiyotaka was his name you thought.

“Yeah?”

“Mr. Gojo said he’d like to see you in his office.”

You thickly swallowed at the sound of your bosses name. “Did he mention what for?” You say, standing up and straightening your white blouse.

“Nope, just to have you in his office as soon as your available.”

You nodded, biting your lip and glancing through the glass door to see your boss in a dark blue pinstripe business suit staring at his computer.  

“Ok thanks kiyotaka.”

Your coworker gives you a small smile before you head toward the glass doors; mentally preparing your self for the worst possible outcome.

The shut of the doors behind you alerts Gojo of your presence and he gives you big grin and nods to one of the chairs in front of his desk.

“Please, Y/n, sit.”

You smile softly and so what your told, making your self comfortable in the char infront of the desk.

“So, y/n,” Gojo leans forward, taking off his signature round glasses and locking eyes with you. And god, you are now painfully aware of just how captivating his eyes are. “I know about your situation.”

His words snap you out of your haze and send your mind immediately racing.

“Wait what?”

He knew you were an omega? But how? You spent so many years building the perfect facade how did he see through it? Was this the end of your professional and personal life? Would he try to black mail you? What if-

“Yes, I know that your house was broken into recently.”

Oh.

“Uh,” you cleared your throat, recouping your self and your composure. “Yeah, it was, how did you know?”

“Oh you know, office chatter.”

Funny, cause you only told two people here.

“And needless to say y/n, I’m quite worried about your safety, do you have a place to stay?”

“Uh not really, I’m working it out right now…” you trailed off, what was he getting at?

“Well as your boss i thought I’d offer you a place since it’s my job to ensure the safety of my employees. This company owns a vacant building, for recreational purposes or sorts. It would probably be in your best interests to stay there for a couple of days.”

You choke. “Sorry what? No, sir, I couldn’t I-”

Before you could finish, Gojo grabs your hand from across the desk and squeezes it. The hold he has on you is tight, like you couldn’t pull away if you wanted too. And the way he looked at you, the way he looked at you; blue eyes glinting at you like you were caught in a trap, made your stomach twist into knots and sent shivers down your spine.

“Please, y/n” He says with a soft smile and pearly white teeth. “I insist”

Your throat went dry, and you open your mouth to speak but no words come out. All you can do is nod, making Gojo grin.

“Fantastic! Well the day is just about over,” he chirps while looking at his watch. “So why don’t we head over to your house now in my car, pick up your stuff, and I’ll show you the place!”

All you can do is nod as your fate seemed to be in the hands of your boss.

~

It was very obvious whose car was Gojo’s in the garage of the office building. Probably because of the fact that it was the most expensive one there; it being a sleek black Ferrari with custom deep velvet wheels.

“After you.” Gojo says with a polite smile that could make grandmothers faint, holding the door to the shot gun seat open.

You nod a thanks and step into the car. The door shuts behind you and the one across from you opens and Gojo sits next to you in the drivers seat. There is a moment of silence as he starts the engine and backs out the parking space, but before he exits onto the road, he stops and leans over to reach for something behind you.

“Can’t forget to buckle now can you?” He hums, reaching over you and grabbing the strap to buckle you in. Your eyes widen as a wave of his scent fills your nose, and god, he smells like heaven. It’s a sickly sweet mixture between pine, lavender and something heavy, muskier. It clouds your brain and senses, and you want to bury your nose into it over and over again.

Which is strange.

Usually your medicine dulls your sense of smell since an omegas nose can become hyper sensitive. You were sure you took your meds this morning, you haven’t missed a day since you were a kid.

You immediately snap out of your daze and and pull out your bag, digging through your bag and pulling out the bottle of medication.

“What’s that?” Gojo inquires, starting the car and heading out onto the road.

“Oh uh, allergy meds, you know with it being spring and all.” You respond shakily.

Better take some now just in case.

You shake out three pills and sallow them, giving Gojo a small smile after you do.

“Well, I hope you feel better.” He says and you nod. Then it hits you.

“Oh do you know where we are going? I forgot to give you the address.”

Gojo’s eyes widen and for a second it feels like you caught him doing something, but he quickly gives you a small smile and gestures to his phone.

“Oh I have all of my employees emergency information saved back when you filled out those forms when you first came to the job.”

“Huh…..” you trail off, nodding. “Wow sir, I had know idea how dedicated you where.”

~

Something was wrong. Something was really wrong

The ride to the new place was excruciating. All of your senses where over run with the smell of Satoru’s in the small car, for fuck sakes you could practically taste the pine on your tongue like hot sugar. Your breathing was heaving and irregular and it felt like the seat belt was strangling you.

What was worse was the ache between your thighs that just wouldn’t go away no matter how much you clenched or rubbed. Your skin felt sweaty, sticky from the perspiration and you could see in the car mirror that your face was flushed a deep red.

Gojo has took notice of your state and asked if you were ok multiple times to which you responded with a nod or a affirmation when really you were getting worse.

“Y/n, are you sure your fine?”

Your stomach twisted into knots when you heard the way he spoke your name like it was dripping with honey.

“Mmmh, can you just uh, turn on the AC a bit lower sir?” You say in-between heavy breath.

“Y/n it’s already freezing, and please call me Satoru.”

“A-are we almost there?”

“Yup just around the corner.”

You breath a sigh of relief as you pull up to the garage or the building. But building wasn’t the right word, it was more like a pent house apartment complex. But you had to energy to question the luxury of it all, instead you were dead set on getting fresh air and a bed to rest.

“I got your stuff.” Satoru says, popping the trunk and grabbing your suitcase while you tried to catch your breath outside of the car.

When you thought fresh air and getting some space from your boss would be the trick, it only made things worse. It was like your body was craving for his presence, his scent, anything that was Satoru Gojo.

“Come on the elevator is this way.”

You nod and follow the white haired man to the elevator door, allowing him to press the button of the floor, and there is a moment of silence as the two of you stand in the tight space, and it’s then you realize just how handsome your boss is.

Sure his eyes were a fascinating but ever part of his face seemed to be perfectly sculpted in an amazing combination of ‘pretty’ and ‘handsome’.

“Hey we are here y/n I promise you’ll have plenty of time to look at me later.”

Gojo’s words snap you out of you haze, painting your skin a deep red and you timidly nod.

As Gojo opens the door, you step in and immediately a thick wave of his scent crashes into you like a tidal wave. Its such a sickly sweet it has you dizzy and a pool of saliva fills your mouth. You look around the pent house flat in confusion, finding a couple dress suits laying around and a rack of fancy mens shoes by the door.

This was-

This was his place.

That’s when it all came together. How he knew your house was broken into, the meds and why they werent working, how he knew your address, and that he knew what you were.

Click

The door locked.

But for some reason that was not the most pressing issue. All of your senses were over run with the presence, the smell of Gojo, making your mind spin like your body was drunk on him, An immense wave of heat had overtaken your body and hit you hard in the gut, knocking the wind out of you and making your knees wobble and buckle. This was exactly why you couldn't miss a day of your medication, because you’d be thrusted into a vicious heat cycle  triggered by years of hormone build up.

“Wha- what d-did you do to my m-meds where did you bring me w-what is happening to me”

Fat hot tears start to fall down your face, and you begin to fall down but Satoru catches you; scooping your up in his arms bridal style and bringing you to his chest

“Shh shh shhh baby don’t cry, I’ll take care of you, I promise.” He says softly, sweetly, peppering kisses on your cheek and jaw as he walks over and sets on on the giant king bed.

You whine when he crawls on top of you and places his knee between your legs which brushes against your clothed crotch. You involuntarily buck up your hips to try and gain more friction, making Satoru chuckle; his shit eating grin widening

“Needy, arent you?”

You can only whine in response as he pulls off your business pencil skirt and hooks a finger under your pastel pink panties; pulling the material down to reveal your gushing cunt.

Your hands fly down to hide yourself but he swats them away, giving you a glare before sliding a finger up and down your wet slit; collecting the jucies before pushing the digit into your tight hole.A hand flew down to hold his arm but it was hardly to pull him away, no this was just you needing to feel any part of him under your fingers.Next he felt you clench and he almost grinned, knowing full well that, that squeeze around his cock was going to feel so amazingly good later on.

The first curl of his fingers knocks the wind out of you, as it hits the sweet spot inside of you that you could only dream to reach on your own.

“Hah~ I cant-” You whine and whimper, stomach clenching and legs trembling from the pleasure. You’re high strung, drool slipping from your mouth more and more onto the white cotton sheets as you cry out when the pressure in your gut builds and builds.

“Shh shh baby, yes you can, i just need to prep you before m’go in ok?” He coos, making you sniffle as you nod.  You cant help but push your hips out, angling them so his digits reach deeper into that sweet spot that sent tendrils of electricty through your body. You don’t even notice that he had unbuttoned your blouse until he latches a mouth onto your hardened nipple and begins to suck. The added stimulation has you clenching around his digits and digging your nails into the fabric of his suit for some sort of stability.

“S-satoru I’m gonna-” your attempts to warn the white haired man in front of you falls upon deaf ears as he continues his prodding and curling of his fingers in your cunny. Suddenly the tension inside your stomach snapped and you were tumbling faster toward and orgasm then you could put a stop to it. You open you mouth to scream but no words come out. Moaning and rolling your eyes back you almost melt then and there on the bed as you soak his fingers in sheets of sticky liquid. Boneless and limp you can only bob your head when you feel yourself being manhandled; bigs hands grabbing the underside of your plush thighs and pressing them to your chest.

You watch through the haze of your orgasm and Gojo shrugs off his expensive blazer and lossens his tie, licking his lips as he does so. You don’t even notice that he had pulled out his dick until you feel something pressing against your entrance, making you look down and eyes widening as you do so.

“M’wont fit there’s no way it won-” your babbling is cut off when Satoru attaches his lips to yours and you practically melt. It’s messy, and hot, and your by no means as experienced as him and it’s obvious. Spit smears on other side of your lips as he pushes his tongue into your mouth, whines and sweet moans escaping your throat as he does so. The kiss makes you dizzy and you can’t even remember what you were so worried about, you can only think of one thing.

Satoru.Satoru.Satoru

“Don’t worry sweet cheeks, i was made for you. And if it doesn’t fit,” he hums, his voice just above a whisper “we’ll make it.”

You’re about to open your mouth to say something but all of a sudden Satoru pushes his dick into you until his hips are flushed against yours. It feels like your being split in too, and the way his tip smushes against your cervix makes you unable to find your breath. The unfamiliar feeling has you squirming and clenching around his cock; body desperately trying to push out the foreign intrusion.  

“Shit you gotta loosen up doll, cant fuck you like this.” There were veins popping on his temple as he started to rub tight circles on your clit. Bolts of pleasure shoot up your body, and you desperately try to relax your body.

“Atta girl” He coos, withdrawing his hips before slamming into your.

The first thrust completely knocks the wind out of you. The collision with your gspot has you arching your back of the bed; eyes screwed shut and letting out a loud moan. Every vein on his cock dragged against your velvety walls, catching on your entrance as he pulled back before thrusting back in. his thrusts were deep, the tip of his cock reaching spots you could only dream of hitting with your fingers. Your skin is buzzing, and your entire lower half is shaking from the pleasure. His pace is brutal, unforgiving, and he grabs the headboard above you with one arm to help his brutal and unforgiving pace into you.

“Mm’so good- don’t stop, please don’t stop!” your babbling strung out of your lips without much of a thought other than how good he was fucking you, his thick cock driving in and out of your velvet walls. It was as if you were made for each other, your cunt sucking him in with each push and shove that hit at just the right spots.

“Not gonna stop,” his grunted through barred teeth, canines brushing at the delicate skin of your neck, “not gonna stop until I give you my knot-” He cuts himself off with a loud groan of his own before grabbing your ass and bring you upwards. Instinctively you wrap your legs around his waist as you sit fully seated on his cock, strong arms lifting you up and down his dick; picking you up them slamming you back down.

“M’love you! Love you so much!” The pleasure was muddling your brain, making you boarderline incoherent.

“Oh?” Satoru chuckles, delivering a particularly harsh thrust into your gushing cunt which makes you jump, “Knew you’d come around, want me to breed you dont ya’? Stuff you with cum till its spills out?”

You dumbly nod, drool slipping out the side of your mouth as you do your best to raise your self and drop your self back onto his dick,

Your ankles lock around his lower back and you cry out when the head of his cock kisses your womb, your legs shaking as you feel your self start to be thrown into an intense orgasm. You want to say something about the weird feeling in your stomach, how your skin is buzzing but its all to much and before you know it your tumbling toward the edge. It feels like your whole body was shot with electricity and color dance in your eyes as you float in ecstasy.

"Sh-Shit, shit, fuuuuck~" He chuckles into your ear, choking over his words as his hips sputter inside of you, hot cum fills you as much as you can hold inside of your stuffed cunny. You babbled and puled as it built and built and built, like there was a dam of his seed spurting into you. You unintentionally, probably instinctually, squeezed around him, drawing more out and he whined and murmured his praise. "Good girl, get as much as you can." You buried your face in the crook of his neck, breathing in his intoxicating scent.

A/n: I couldnt figure out how to end it im so uncreative LOL

[scorpiusandstars]

Some sad Albus Potter headcannons (but it ends nicely)

When he was a small child, Albus’ siblings used to joke about him being the odd one out because he didn’t have red hair. Lily’s was just like her mother’s and James’, whilst less vibrant, still had undeniable red hues. But Albus was the only of his siblings to get his dad’s. He didn’t mind it so much back then. After all, he wasn’t actually that different from them. They were just messing around.

Albus never liked quidditch growing up. His mum was an ex-professional and his dad and his siblings were all exceptional at it too. Albus didn’t really get it. He preferred being on the ground. He accepted that maybe he didn’t fit in in that regard either. But that was okay. He was still a Potter.

Albus’ heart plummeted the moment the sorting hat announced where he’d been placed. He was the first of the Weasley bloodline to not be put in Gryffindor, he was the first of the Potter bloodline to not be put in Gryffindor. It wasn’t right; he was getting further and further away from the rest of his family. He briefly let himself dwell on a memory; an argument he’d had with James. He was nine, and he’d snuck into James’ room over the Christmas holidays and put his Gryffindor uniform on. James was angry that Albus had gone through his stuff, but Albus just wanted to be like his big brother. The memory turned sour.

Selfishly, his heart broke to see Lily go into Gryffindor. He’d hoped maybe he wouldn’t be the only one, that maybe she’d be like him, that maybe she’d prove he wasn’t the odd one out. He didn’t know why he was kidding himself, because at that point he’d already accepted that he was.

Lily made the quidditch team in her second year. Albus was happy for her, of course. But she made it onto a team captained by his brother and with Rose as their star player. His parents gushed about James and Lily’s playing, and his aunt and uncle praised Rose for her’s in equally high regard. Albus would just pick at his dinner as his family’s conversation effortlessly continued on without him.

When Albus was in his fourth year, James got a serious girlfriend for the first time. James had gushed about plenty of girls before, but he really meant it with this one, Albus could tell. She wasn’t James’ first girlfriend though, that had been when he was fourteen - Albus’ age. Albus often got quipped for that, about when he’d get a girlfriend. It wasn’t exactly his fault that his brother and his dad had done so well by his age. Albus wasn’t even sure he wanted a girlfriend. Maybe that was just another way he didn’t fit in.

Albus realised he was in love with Scorpius Malfoy not long after. Despite everything, that was what made him feel more left out than ever before. Now he wasn’t just a dark-haired, un-athletic, Slytherin Potter, but he was a dark-haired un-athletic Slytherin Potter in love with the son of his father’s old school rival. What on Earth could be more isolating than that.

Albus struggled for many years with the feelings of isolation and the knowledge that he was so different from the rest of his family. But he did find something that subsided it, because it turned out out that Scorpius Malfoy loved him back. Suddenly, none of the other stuff seemed to matter so much. He’d found somebody who loved him regardless of all those things, maybe even because of all those things. Suddenly, all of the things that made him different seemed stupidly fortunate. Maybe he wasn’t quite like the rest of his family, but finally he felt able to revel in having something that was unique to him - getting to be loved by Scorpius Malfoy

[sytokun]

To anyone thinking or saying Dillon Goo is unworthy of acquiring RWBY, not because of anything realistic like finances or the size of his studio, but because he's "just an animator", or just a rando from the internet who cannot write or run RWBY:

Thanks for perpetuating the piece of shit mindset that every soul-sucking corporation and braindead consumer has: that animators have no value or are just there to push buttons and make pixels move for the real creatives.

Animators are artists and creators. They have to work with numerous departments to make things work: They have to know what the writer/director wants, and tell them if it's even possible to put to screen; they have to work with artists and character designers to tell if they can commit that art into moving parts. And for an animated show, they're kind of... I dunno, the entire backbone of its production.

Anyone stupid enough to claim that, by their logic, should claim that Miles and Kerry were "just writers" and don't have the right nor the intelligence to have any opinions on RWBY's animation, character designs or music. That's how I know you have zero fucking idea how any actual media is produced, because in your head, these positions all just exist as separate little boxes in your brain so it's simple enough for you to grasp.

It was "just an animator" who made RWBY in the first place, dumbass. A "rando" making animations on the internet that Rooster Teeth took a chance on, and now he's responsible for their best-selling IP. By comparison, Dillon is starting at a way better starting position than Monty was, with a successful YouTube channel, public support from multiple current and ex-CRWBY like J Grelle (Tyrian's VA), Kim Newman (former animator who animated Sun's gunchucks in V5) and Jessica Nigri (Cinder's VA), and multiple collaborations with big companies like Hoyoverse.

If anything, I'd expect an animator like Dillon to know and care enough about his staff to not give them near-irreparable spinal damage. Gee, I wonder why Newman would think he'd be a better employer to work with? Dillon would know how an animation project is run and budgeted. Him being an animator is a benefit, for god's sake.

Monty had character design sketches but needed help from professional artists to fully design them. He knew bits of the plot but needed help fleshing it out. Do you have enough brain cells to rub together to know that's precisely what Dillon can do, too? Fuckin', I dunno, hire people? For his studio??

I'd rather have an animator run RWBY because RWBY is an animated series and he would know precisely 1) what complements the medium best and 2) the precise limits of what can or cannot work within his budget. By your ass-backwards logic, I would rather get EC Myers to run RWBY's production over Dillon just because he's a writer and has been employed with RT longer.

That's another moronic argument: "He's only been employed by RT for 1 Volume". Man, I don't care if he's been there for zero Volumes, his work clearly shows a greater understanding of RWBY's aesthetic, mainstream appeal and style than its own showrunners have for the past 7 years. Or is seniority in a defunct company responsible for a steadily unprofitable IP suddenly a positive in this business deal?

I need you to be aware that RWBY as an IP is a joke outside of the bubble of its fandom, and I am telling you bluntly as a fan. Nobody takes it seriously and the ones that do only praise it for either its action choreography or its character designs, one of which is guaranteed with Dillon's studio. Diehard fans may love RWBY, warts and all, but all that love and support clearly wasn't enough to keep it alive, because its reputation was already cemented from its own mismanagement.

What you do is you get the right person for the job. And Dillon ticks a lot of boxes for it. If you think he's unable to acquire RWBY because he's not a big corpo or cannot meet Warner's asking price, that's 100% fair. If you think he's unable to create something on the scale of Volume 9, that's also 100% fair, but only if you're attached to the idea that you'd rather have Volume 10 or more of the same RWBY that was operating at a loss than any RWBY at all. Or if you'd rather see a season of 14 episodes 15 minutes long where 60-70% of it is made up of exposition, talking head scenes and increasingly overambitious world expanding, over shorter episodes with amazing RWBY action sequences with a story that never bites off more than it can chew.

But if you think Dillon is unqualified or worse, unworthy or undeserving (what a weirdo thing to say about a person, like owning RWBY is like inheriting the fucking throne of Gondor), all because he's "just an animator" or because he was smart enough to see RT for the meat-grinder hellhole it was and left to find success on his own, you're full of shit.

And if you disapprove of him because of his association with Shane, go find a restroom because your unsightly hateboner is showing. It's been almost ten years since the letter and you all have been holding this unfettered rage clenched between your buttcheeks longer than Shane's ever been with Rooster Teeth.

And for what? Pointing out Rooster Teeth is a fucked place to work at? Whoops, that was true and now it's six feet under for every scandal and worker abuse case they brought on themselves. For stealing and cannibalising their creators' IPs? Whoops, that's fucking true as well.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

When parties fail, movements step up

This Saturday (19 Aug), I'm appearing at the San Diego Union-Tribune Festival of Books. I'm on a 2:30PM panel called "Return From Retirement," followed by a signing:

https://www.sandiegouniontribune.com/festivalofbooks

Does anyone like the American two party system? The parties are opaque, private organizations, weak institutions that are prone to capture and corruption, and gerrymandering's "safe seats" means that the real election often takes place in the party's smoke-filled rooms, when a sure-thing candidate is selected:

https://doctorow.medium.com/weak-institutions-a26a20927b27

But there doesn't seem to be any way to fix it. For one thing, the two parties are in charge of any reform, and they're in no hurry to put themselves out of business. It's effectively impossible for a third party to gain any serious power in the USA, and that's by design. After the leftist Populists party came within a spitting distance of power in the 1890s, the Dems and Repubs got together and cooked the system, banning fusion voting and erecting other structural barriers.

The Nader and Perot campaigns were doomed from the outset, in other words. Either candidate could have been far more popular than the D and R on the ballot, and they still would have lost. It's how the deck is stacked, and to unstack it, reformers would need to take charge of at least one – and probably both – of the parties.

But that's not cause for surrender – it's a call to action. In an interview with Seymour Hersh, Thomas Frank (Listen, Liberal) sets out another locus of power, one with the potential to deliver control over the party to its base: social movements:

https://seymourhersh.substack.com/p/ordinary-people-by-the-millions

It's been done before. The parties are routinely transformed by power-shifts within their internal coalitions: since 1970, corporate Dems have consistently pushed the party to the right, making it the power of white-collar professionals and relying on working people showing up and marking their ballots with a D because they have "nowhere else to go."

Bill Clinton was the most successful of these corporate raiders, delivering the parts of the Reagan Revolution that Reagan himself could never have managed: dismantling tariffs and bank regulations, passing the crime bill and welfare "reform." He came within a whisper of (partially) privatizing Social Security.

This set in motion the forces that made Trumpism possible: when Dems told deindustrialized workers to "learn to code" and blamed them for the destruction of their communities, it opened a space for Make America Great Again, the (empty) workerist rhetoric of the GOP. The Dems' plan of putting "really smart people" in charge and letting them run things was a (predictable) disaster. "Really smart" isn't the same as "infallible" and really smart people can be spooked or bulled into doing the wrong thing – like Obama "foaming the runways" for the banks with the houses of mortgage holders, and leaving the bankers responsible for the Great Financial Crisis unscathed:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/03/15/mon-dieu-les-guillotines/#ceci-nes-pas-une-bailout

"Really smart people" can't get us out of this mess. Instead, we need the kind of muscular political action – the "whirlwind" – that characterized FDR's New Deal: "complete reformation of the banking industry.. just about every other industry as well. Regulation. Social Security. Public works. Antitrust. Soil conservation."

FDR got there by alienating his former classmates and refusing the go-slow entreaties of his cronies. He got there because there was a mass social movement that made him do it ("I want to do it, now make me do it"):

https://humanizingthevacuum.wordpress.com/2014/09/16/i-agree-with-you-i-want-to-do-it-now-make-me-do-it/

Every time in US history where one of the political party duopoly listened to its base, it was because of a mass social movement: the farmers' movement (1890s), labor (1930s), civil rights and antiwar (1960s). As Frank says:

Social movements succeed. They build and they change the intellectual climate and then, when the crisis comes, they make possible things like agrarian reform or the New Deal or the Civil Rights acts of the 1960s.

Today, we see the seeds of those social movements: the new union movement. Black Lives Matter. Neobrandeisians with their "hipster antitrust." These are the movements that are creating "ideas lying around": ideas that, in time of crisis, can move from the fringe to the center in an eyeblink:

https://doctorow.medium.com/ideas-lying-around-33a28901a7ae

They are setting in motion another transformation of the Democratic Party, from its top-down, "really smart people" model to a bottom-up, people-powered one, kept in check by movements, not party bosses. As Frank says, "They require the mass participation of ordinary people. Without that, I am afraid that nothing is possible."

I'm kickstarting the audiobook for "The Internet Con: How To Seize the Means of Computation," a Big Tech disassembly manual to disenshittify the web and make a new, good internet to succeed the old, good internet. It's a DRM-free book, which means Audible won't carry it, so this crowdfunder is essential. Back now to get the audio, Verso hardcover and ebook:

http://seizethemeansofcomputation.org

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/17/popular-front-of-judea/#speaking-frankly

[luceracastro]

Teacher’s Pet

Part 3

Esteban Kukurickza x reader

Summary: After a few months of starting your literature course you seem to find it harder with time to ignore your professor, little did you know you were driving him crazy as well.

Warnings: nothing much, some knee/thigh touching but it’s all innocent (or that’s what Esteban says🤭)

Masterlist

You felt dead and you didn’t know if dead was even a sufficient word to describe how you really felt in that moment, your head was spinning and pounding, your arms and legs were sore to even move and your back pain was unbearable

Your eyes were swollen and sleepy from the lack of sleep you had been getting as of late and the sun peeking through the crack of the curtain was no help either “carajo” you groaned rolling your body over to your night stand

Now you knew you would take up on Esteban’s offer for the after school hours lecture after putting it off for weeks, you had grabbed you phone opening the email app and you had started a new email, you had reread it and made sure it was professional enough

You had the sent him the email and as soon as you put your phone down you were out like a light.

The next morning you looked over your phone, the day before you had taken the day to take some pain killers, drink tea, sleep and relax yourself which was very much needed but now you sent Esteban a email confirming you could meet up today

He had pitched in the idea to work at a secluded coffee shop where no one really went just so you both could work privately and with no suspicions from students or nosey professors

You had to get yourself together, you smelled like coffee and your hair was a tossed mess so you hopped in the shower, you did your hair, makeup and got dressed. You gathered your stuff and left your small flat locking the door and walking downstairs, you took the bus, it was easier and there was no way in hell you would ever walk

No you didn’t have a car, your dad did try to buy you one but it would just add on to expense and you didn’t really go anywhere except school and a small market right down the street at times the library but the bus was an easy fix for all of that, you had looked through your phone until the bus came to a stop and you stepped off finding the coffee shop down a little ally

After searching up about it, it was supposedly a underground calm little coffee shop with good coffee and treats, you had entered and looked around and there he was sat down looking through his computer and you stood there for a minute looking at him, you then walked over and he looked up a soft smile appearing on his lips as he saw you “hola linda, como te sientes?” He asked and you nodded a soft sigh escaping your lips “bien, mejor, gracias por preguntar” you said

“Si como no, ven sientate aqui” he patted the spot beside him and you nodded sitting beside him, this was the first time you ever were dangerously close to him, your knee touched his and you could feel his breathing against your skin which gave you chills

The lecture was based off of theoretical framework and through the lecture he was attentive in explaining everything and making sure you understood and you both worked on some exercises together which you did great on, your insight on the lecture made him sure that you understood it

Such a smart girl, he thought “quieres ordenar algo?” He asked and you nodded “ahorita nomas ordeno un cafe” you said as you looked over something on your notes “si quieres yo te lo ordeno” he said and you shook your head “no por favor ya no quiero molestarte” you smiled “no es ninguin molestia, tu nunca vas a ser un molestia para mi” he said and you smiled a soft chuckle escaping your lips

“Bueno esta bien, gracias” you thanked him “no hay problema nena” he had gotten up and you looked down working on the last few exercises making sure your work was double checked, “ten linda” you looked up and grabbed a hold of the medium sized coffee cup “gracias” you the realized he paid for your drink, “ten para la cafe” you handed him a five dollar bill since the coffee was only 3$ you saw it on the small menu stuck to the table

He shook his head “no nena esta bien” he wouldn’t accept your money and you gave him a look “por favor, ten” you tried to give him the money and he took it to put it back inside your bag and you gave him a frustrated face which made him chuckle and you couldn’t help but smile “Esteban ten” you tried to give him the money again as you playfully whined

“No, no voy acceptar tu dinero” he shook his head and you rolled your eyes “ahora me siento mal” you said and he shook his head “no nena por que?” You gave him a look “nomas es un cafe de 3$ linda” and you chuckled “ahora tienes que dejar que yo hago algo para ti” you said and he nodded

“Bueno, vamos a comer” he said and you tilted your head, your eyes slightly widening “yo se que no has comido se te ve” he said and you sighed a small smile on your lips “entonces quieres ir a comer?” You asked and he nodded “y que quieres comer?” You asked “te gustan las hamburguesas?” He asked and you nodded “Si” he picked up both of your things

“Bueno vamos nena” he said and you stood up “ahorita?” You asked and he nodded “si, se nota que no has comido, vamos” he didn’t give you room to protest as he already made his way out of the coffee shop and all you could do was follow him

He had been kind to open the car door for you making sure you were inside completely before closing the door, you sighed watching as he went around the car and entered the drivers side “bueno, vamos”

The car ride was calming with some of the night wind seeping through the car windows which were slightly rolled down, the radio which was turned down but loud enough for background noise, “eres muy calladita” he said chuckling a little as you smiled shaking your head

“Bueno la verdad no se que es algo apropiado que puedo hablar de con mi professor” you said looking over at him only to see that his eyes were already focused on you, “lo que sea?” He said shrugging with that same damn dreamy smile on his lips “y si digo algo malo? Mejor no” you giggled “bueno miralo asi, yo te doy la libertad de hablar me como si yo fuera cualquero, ahorita no me tienes que ver como tu profe, vale?”

You looked at him as he looked at you, the moment felt intimate in a way and you could only nod “Vale” you said in a whisper almost “bueno nena, dime” you thought for a moment, what could you even tell him? Your life wasn’t too eventful besides work and school “la verdad es que yo no tengo una vida tan emocionante” you laughed

“Bueno no hay que tener una vida llena de cosas asi, te digo algo, yo casi ni sali de mi cuarto cuando era joven” he said and you chuckled “tenias que haber salido” you said not believing a word he said “no, me la pasaba haciendo tareas, escribiendo, o viendo peliculas” he said and you raised a brown”y que no tenias amigos or una novia?” He nodded “si, si tuve pero nomas hablabamos en la escuela despues de eso era como que si no nos conocieramos” he said

“De verdad?” He then nodded “y tu no tienes tus amigas?” He asked “bueno si pero siempre estoy haciendo mis tareas o trabajando que ya no salgo tanto como antes” you admitted “y novio no tienes?” You looked at him then back at the road shaking your head “no, o sea tuve pero quebramos despues de que el se fue de España” you said

“Y estas bien?” He asked and you nodded “si, si poco a poco” you sighed and felt chills at the feeling of a rough hand resting on your knee, you looked down and saw his hand just on your knee and you watched as it slowly slipped up to sit on your thigh and you looked over at him, he was normal about with a smug smile on his lips while you panicked on the inside

“Bueno aqui estoy por lo que sea” you nodded “gracias” he didn’t move his hand, it’s still there and you weren’t complaining. You both pulled up in front of a small food truck with two fold up tables set up and what not, you were distracted looking at the food truck to even notice Esteban rounding the car to open your door “gracias” you smiled at him as he nodded, you both stared at the menu which made your head hurt, you didn’t know what you wanted

“Ya sabes lo que quieres?” He asked and you looked at him “si, lo que tu ordenes” you said and he chuckled “segura?” He asked and you nodded “bueno” he had ordered for the two of you then led you to sit down, it was getting cold again and you forgot to bring a jacket only having a long sleeved top to protect you

“Tienes frio” it wasn’t a question more like a statement “no estoy bien” you said but the subtle sound of your teeth clattering and your shaking body were a dead giveaway, “mentirosa” he chuckled shrugging off his jacket and holding it for you to slip it on “Y tu?” You asked “yo voy a estar bien nena, ten” he slipped the jacket on to you and sat back down “como sabias que querias ser maestro?” You asked him “Siempre queria ser, aunque no lo crees o no se nota siempre supe que iba ser maestro” he said

“Y tu nena que quieres hacer?” He asked and you thought if you should even tell him or not “autora” you said sipping on the soda he had bought you both “eso si es algo bueno, maravilloso” he said “y yo se que lo vas a lograr, veo los papeles y los trabajos que haces y yo se que vas a ser la mejor autora” he said and it made your heart genuinely happy that he thought that highly of you

“De verdad crees eso?” You asked with a wide smile on your lips “Si como no?” He smiled “eres una buena escritora” he said “gracias, me siento muy feliz a saber que tu piensas eso” he chuckled “nena todos en el colegio sabemos que vamos a ver tu nombre en los libros mas populares en el futuro” he just knew what to say

“Aye ya me vas hacer llorar” you laughed “no no nena” he smiled placing a hand over yours, for a moment your eyes met and it was just you two for a while until the booming voice of the man working the food truck yelled your order and he stood up going to get the food then he came back and sat down, the burgers looked great

“Prueba la” you smiled holding the burger and took a bite, he watched you carefully waiting for what you have to say about the burger “esta buenisimo” you laughed and he smiled “eso esperaba” he said and you laughed as he did too before taking a bite of his burger “de verdad esta hamburguesa es la mas buena que yo habia probado”

“Que bueno nena, sabia que te iba encantar” he said popping a fry into his mouth “y entonces como eras de nene?” You wanted to know more about Esteban, what was he like? What did he enjoy? “Un niño muy differente” he said

“Y como era ese nene differente?” You asked smiling taking another bite of the burger “un niño que se la pasaba afuera jugando fútbol o en casa viendo peliculas” he said making you smile “y como se veìa ese nene?” You asked and he sighed taking out his phone with a little smile as he swiped continuously on his phone

He showed you his phone screen he looked to be a little boy in the picture but he looked like the sweetest boy ever,“aye que lindo” you giggled “hermoso de verdad” you said and he chuckled “gracias nena gracias” he then let you hold his phone as you fawned over the picture “y aver, tu como eras de nena?” He asked and you sighed “una niña que hacia libros con papel y crayolas y le encantaba las caricaturas” you said and he smiled

“Que niña linda entonces” you shook your head smiling, while eating you both continued talking about childhood and more or so his and his teen years which you doubted he had, sometimes you found it hard to believe he once was young

Once you both had finished Esteban was nice to pick up your trash as well as his to throw it out, “nomas pago y nos vamos” and you shook your head giving him some money for you meal “mi parte” you said and he shook his head “perdon nena pero no” you gave him a look “Esteban por favor” you insisted yet he made no move to get the money from your hand

“No” he said once more and you slightly frowned “por favor” he sighed getting the money but what you didn’t see was him tucking it in his pocket and paying for both your meals himself, he thanked the woman then went to get you “vamos” he said and he helped hold your bag, you walked in front of him not seeing him tuck the money you gave him back inside your bag

“Ten linda” he gave you your bag and you thanked him as he carefully closed the door for you, he had driven you home the tiredness was getting to you and you could tell he was tired too by the sound of his yawn and his sleepy eyes

Stopping in front of your apartment building which he seemed to remember you sighed “gracias, por todo de verdad” you smiled at him and he smiled too “no es nada querida, lo que sea para mi alumna favorita” he said and you chuckled nodding “bueno, gracias otra vez, tenga buen noche y con cuidado por favor” you said getting your stuff and opening the door

“Si claro, gracias nena buenas noches” he said smiling and you smiled once more before closing the door and again he didn’t leave until you fully entered the building and after that he drove off, you entered your apartment smiling like an idiot as you put your stuff down and kicked off your shoes and you noticed you still had his jacket on and you took it off and looked at the dark brownish jacket it was warm and it smelled like him even from afar

You grinned about to walk over to your room to get ready for bed but something poking out of your bag caught your eye, the money you gave Esteban to pay for your food and you sighed a smile on your lips, how did you know it was your money? The folding on the bills “carajo” you chuckled putting the money in your bag and then going to your room.

Esteban entered his apartment and kicked off his shoes putting his things down on his table, he heard meows and purrs as he felt fluff rub against his legs “hola hermosa” he cooed as he scratched his cat’s side, the black cat had purred as her tail swirled “vamos lunita” he called her over making his way to his bedroom

Luna, he named the cat which he got three years prior, he fell in love with the little cat he would occasionally feed and he noticed she lacked a collar and had no where to go so instinctively he picked her up and took her to the vet doing everything he could to take her home and have her healthy.

The next morning you had woken up early to be able to stop by a coffee shop and get a big black coffee with a muffin, you weren’t going to let Esteban off that easily, you just had to do something for him, you entered class and it was empty except you saw Esteban sitting down at his desk going over some papers “buenos dias” you said making him look up his once serious expression turned into a smile “Buenos Dias nena” you smiled putting the coffee cup and paper bag holding the muffin down

“Ya se que no usaste el dinero que te di ayer” you gave him a look with a small smile and he leaned back a smug smile on his lips as he shrugged “por eso te traigo esto y te lo vas a comer y tomar” you pointed at him and he nodded “bueno bueno nena me lo como” he gave you a smile “gracias” he took out the muffin and took a bite “esta muy bueno, ten” he ripped it in half keeping the half he bit

“Pero si lo traje para ti” you said and he gave you a look “ya se que no comiste todavia ten” you took the bread playfully rolling your eyes and taking a bite “gracias por esto nena, de verdad te lo agradezco” he said and you nodded “si de nada” you smiled down at him.

As students began to come in you moved to your seat and sat down, the last thing you needed were rumors that would get both you and Esteban in trouble.

A/n: So sorry for taking so long to update my loves!!!! I swear I didn’t want to take this long but school was kicking me in the ass lol, but I do hope you all enjoy the read and this fic<3 and if you’d like to be tagged let me know!

Comments, likes, and reblogs are appreciated but not mandatory just enjoy the story my loves 🫶��

Taglist: @madame-fear @theoslove @catiwinky

[oopsallfictives]

I'm gonna take a stab at creating an alternate definition of the word delusion, since I'm not a fan of the one commonly used in a medical context. This is gonna deal with some unreality and paranoia-inducing stuff, so read at your own risk.

The definition most commonly used for delusion is a false belief that a person can't be persuaded isn't real or true, even if they're shown evidence to the contrary. This is a flawed definition for a number of reasons, chief among them that sometimes people are just wrong and stubborn about it. We know that it can be incredibly difficult for people to change their minds once they're personally invested in an idea, but that's not the same as being delusional. A person who still believes vaccines cause autism probably isn't delusional, they're just personally invested in the idea because it validates their view that autism is bad and gives them a scapegoat to blame for the existence of autistic people. That's an ideology, not a delusion.

Another flaw is that some things can't necessarily be confirmed to be untrue. One of the most well-known (and commonly mocked) delusions is some variation of "the government is spying on me". This isn't something that's easily verified as either true on untrue, and it's also something that literally does happen to people. I live in the US, where we know the government spies on people. We know that in the wake of 9/11, US intelligence agencies undertook a massive campaign of surveillance of Muslim and Middle Eastern people living in the US. So "the government is spying on me" might not actually be a false belief, and you probably can't know that for sure.

Attempting to rely on a belief being false can be dangerous, too. I remember reading the story of a person who was labelled as delusional for saying Obama followed them on Twitter, and was incarcerated in a psych ward until they lied and said they'd realized they were delusional and Obama didn't follow them. The thing is, he did. It was true and verifiable, but the medical professional evaluating them refused to check if it was true so they didn't "encourage the delusion". Sane people tend to believe they have an absolute and correct understand of reality, and a lot of them would rather call you delusional than adjust their worldview. And if that person is a medical professional, they can completely turn your life upside down and stick you in conditions that the UN has called torture.

So here's my proposed alternative: a delusion is an involuntary belief that isn't rooted in logic or evidence, and that a person can't stop believing even if they know it isn't true.

Let's break that down. The involuntary part is important. Delusional people don't have control over our delusions. We don't believe them because we want to or because we think they're true, we just believe them. It's true that delusions can draw on voluntary beliefs, including bigotry, but believing the delusion isn't a choice. We can't just stop. In the case of delusions rooted in bigotry, the person is still responsible for holding those bigoted beliefs in the first place, even though they don't have control of the delusion that came from them. This is an important caveat, because people love to call bigots delusional for things they chose to believe.

The second part is that it's not rooted in any kind of logic or evidence. If a person believes something untrue due to faulty logic and/or misinformation, that's not a delusion. That's called being wrong.

Lastly, I chose the wording "even if they know it's not true" very deliberately. Some delusional people know, either always or sometimes, that our delusions aren't real or true. I personally always know, but that never stops me believing them. If you've never experienced this, it can be hard to imagine what it feels like to know something isn't true and still be unable to stop believing in it. It's contradictory and confusing and really hard to put into words. Of course, there are also delusional people who don't know their delusions aren't true, or who're confused and can't figure it out. It's not the same for everyone. This part of the definition also covers being presented evidence and being unable to accept it as true.

For some people, being told their delusions aren't true can also be extremely distressing and even push them further into it. Never reality check a delusional person unless they ask you to, or it's part of a crisis plan you made with them. The same goes for playing into or confirming a delusion. Do your best to remain neutral on whether or not their belief is true, and try to focus more on their emotions and how it's affecting them. If you know a psychotic person, it's a good idea to ask them (preferably while they're not having a psychotic episode) how they'd like you to handle it.

I'm open to critique from other psychotic people, but if you're aggressive or mean I'll probably just ignore you. This is just an idea, a rough draft, and I'd like to know what the community thinks. Nonpsychotics can reblog, but keep your thoughts to yourself

-Oliver (it/its)

[julianalvarez9]

secret boyfriend / pedri

requested: yes/no

summary: y/n y/l, also known as pedri's best friend, soft launchs a new boyfriend. though his identity is unknown, everybody's sure that it isn't a certain barça player. but can we be sure?

author's note: this is a long oneee hope you like it 🤍

yourusername

Liked by pedri, pablogavi and others.

yourusername outfit check 👩🏻‍❤️‍👨🏻

View all comments

starpedri is this pedri???

viscapedri8 no i don't think so

pedri8fan she's just looking for attention 🙄

pedri fea (ugly)

yourusername mi novio no dice lo mismo 🫢 (my bf doesn't say the same 🫢)

pedriyy/n please don't tell me you have a bf 😭

yourusername

Liked by pedri, pablogavi and others.

yourusername regla número uno nunca jugar al fifa con un jugador de fútbol profesional (rule number 1 never play fifa with a professional football player)

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pablogavi no te dejó hacer ni un gol? (he didn't even let you score once?)

yourusername NO 😭😭😭

pedri no es mí culpa que seas mala (it's not my fault you're bad at it)

yourusername pedri estás castigado. (you're grounded.)

pablogavi pedri tio si necesitas un lugar donde dormir 🤙🏻 (mate if you need a place to sleep in 🤙🏻)

gavipedri thought that they were already living together???

yourusername

Liked by pedri, pablogavi and others.

yourusername abrazos y citas con helado 🤍🍦 (hugs and ice cream dates 🤍🍦)

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pedri cuándo nos vas a presentar a tu chico? (when are you going to introduce us to your boy?)

yourusername permanecerá en secreto por ahora (he'll remain a secret for now)

pablogavi pedri no puedes esperar? (you can't wait?)

pablo6avi imagine if he's her bf instead of pedro 😂😂

yourusername added to their story.

pedri added to their story.

yourusername

Liked by pedri, pablogavi and others.

yourusername pepi 🤍

View all comments

pedri contigo siempre quise más 🤍 (with you i've always wanted more 🤍)

pablogavi no puedo creer que usaste una letra de quevedo para esto (i can't believe you used quevedo's lyrics for this)

yourusername pablogavi tampoco lo puedo creer 🤦🏻‍♀️ (can't believe it either 🤦🏻‍♀️)

[aronarchy]

broke: i can armchair anyone with cluster b pds just because they’re abusive/manipulative/unpleasant/i don’t like them, lol.

woke: only professionals should diagnose, if you’re a layperson you’re uneducated on the topic and don’t have sufficient understanding to be accurate and unbiased. disorders are a very serious thing you should take very seriously, not just throw around randomly whenever.

bespoke: the psychiatric field is institutionally corrupt as a result of its historical and ongoing construction as an apparatus of oppression. this leads to major blind spots in their ability to understand the experience of marginalized people, including mentally ill and neurodivergent people. much of psychiatric research, not to mention practice, is politically motivated and systematically incentivized to serve the interests of power. thus, many people are wrongly or inaccurately diagnosed with cluster b pds to demonize them or reinforce ideas about criminality, fundamental pathology contributing to their problematicness, justifying oppression, claiming struggles which are results of oppression are actually inherent and biological, etc. on the other hand, many people are underdiagnosed, unidentified, denied help when they’re struggling with a certain illness because psychiatrists are often incompetent and wrong, and with cluster b’s this may apply along a gendered line. this applies for any diagnostic practice, and even for other doctors who are part of the medical-industrial complex. psychiatrists are also disproportionately abusive, and some of this is baked into the cultural norms, intended purposes, and rules and regulations and privileges regarding psychiatric practice. you cannot trust an oppressor class to have the last and most accurate say on the oppressed’s subjectivities and interiorities. furthermore, part of the structure of the institution of academia itself ensures an elitist and hierarchical epistemology. dismantling this and other intersecting oppressions means reaffirming the right of the individual themself to either self-diagnose or self-(non/un)diagnose. existing information or medical professionals should be helpful for doing this better and to improve individual being, and acknowledging the significance or accuracy of their or others’ information accurately is obviously important, but professionals should not be treated as authorities who have the right to wholesale override self-understandings instead of supporting, or to control patients. this is in no way contradictory to opposing armchair diagnoses by underinformed or malicious laypeople who trivialize or misunderstand disorders. however, the problem with such behavior must be located correctly. the inaccuracy is a problem, but that means inaccuracy from actual psychiatrists is also a problem (and it certainly does exist). additionally it might perhaps be helpful to identify saneist armchair-diagnosing laypeople as engaging in behavior similar to that of psychiatrists and both wrong, rather than trying to position them as opposed. the same kind of epistemic overriding and even absurdity is often done by many psychs (and in fact the practice and framework has in large part originated or at least been spread starting from the psychiatric institution itself).

[sgiandubh]

In property we trust

A recycled Anon from Mordor (¿Quieres un chicle? ) sent this pearl to @bat-cat-reader :

What a gargantuan twat, this one. I am howling with glee.

You do not buy a house under a trustee, you fool. You either sign a Declaration of Trust when you buy a new property OR you put a house you bought in a trust, for crying out loud. These are two slightly different situations, but both point out towards the absence of normality.

First situation: you sign a Declaration of Trust when you buy that house. The person or company who paid the money (always for tax reasons) is the settlor and you are the trustee(s) who sign the document:

To cut the story short, I found this very clear article, explaining everything better than I could at almost 1 AM local time (https://www.elitelawsolicitors.co.uk/declaration-of-trust-for-property/):

You basically buy a property like you would buy shares in a firm. You are business partners of sorts, because there is no prior cohabitation agreement between you and you want to be clear about how you would split the money between the two (or more) of you, if you sell that house for a benefit.

Why would you do it? IF THEY DID IT.

First reason: you are not married.

I am not going to discuss this. I am just leaving it here, for reference. You are free to make up your mind. It is my professional duty to explain, though, that this is the most logical and frequent reason you would choose to sign this document.

Second reason: the 'partner' has an abysmal credit history and is NOT solvable

Therefore, that person is NOT on your mortgage, simply because I doubt the bank would enter in such a financial arrangement with you. Remember my Legal Anon? I explained that she did not, by design, include McSideburns into the ownership paperwork for Cleveden Drive. Now it all makes sense. I believe that this is the reason why they signed a Declaration of Trust. But this is my opinion and I do not force anyone to join me.

Third reason: if something goes awry, the partner can prove he/she has a right to some of the sale's benefits, while the major investor has his/her investment safely protected, too

Why would you sign a Declaration of Trust to "protect yourself against any disagreements and misunderstandings that may arise later down the line" if your Remarkable Weekend was, what, four years ago? Déjà?

The above questions should be construed as rhetoric.

Second situation: you put a house you bought yourself (C) and with your money exclusively, under a trust benefiting McSideburns. For example.

This is the situation I alluded in the comment thread under @bat-cat-reader's post. For reference, the wee legal article is here: https://www.leaders.co.uk/advice/why-buy-a-property-via-a-trust

Now, before I let my Magic Highlighter do its tricks, let me explain something really quick.

In Roman Law (and also in Civil and Common Law countries, which is wonderful), the notion of legal property can be split in three:

The Usus: this is my house. I bought it with my money. I own it, I pay taxes and mortgage, if needed, for it and take full responsibility for it.

The Fructus: this is my house. I rent it to some nice, solvable people/tennants and I cash in the money. This is my cashola. Period.

The Abusus: this is my house. I don't like it anymore. I have kids. I need an extra bedroom. I want to move from Flushing to Manhattan (I won the lottery). I am selling it. The proceeds are my cashola. Period.

When you put your house in a trust, that means: I bought this house with my own money (C). I am putting it in a trust. I still have the Usus - it is still my house. I will give the Fructus to T, because he needs to sleep somewhere and/or the cashola from the rents. I could sell (abusus) that house under certain conditions, if I choose to.

Here is the article. It is particularly well-written and, in my humble opinion, very clear. It takes the example of a real estate investment on behalf of a child who goes to study out of town, but this is just an example:

You can even put up, as a settlor, a Lifetime Interest Trust, if you want: that would enable, for example, McSideburns to live in that house or rent it and keep the cashola until the end of days, for free.

I could go deeper with my analysis. For the moment, I will restrain myself to this very short overview.

I rest my case. Different opinions are always welcome.

[octuscle]

Customer suport?

I need some help please quick.

Im a canadian on a work trip in the deep Southern America. I was walking past a construction site when my phone started scanning the site. Then it said downloading new specs. Im feelung very weird. Please help i can make it stop.

There were professionals at work. Not only did someone perform a remote installation on your phone. The changes made can't be canceled or undone either. There was even a block configured for all changes to the executed profile for the maximum duration of 30 days. This means that I actually can't do much until the transformation is done.

You try to see anything unusual about the site. But there's nothing to see. The construction fence covers everything. Posters tell something about a club that will open here in the next few days. Las fotos muestran a hombres con el torso desnudo. Parece un poco gay.

In the hotel you are glad to finally get out of the suit. You have to look at yourself in the mirror for a moment. Even if you don't notice it: you look hotter by the second. The tattoo on your neck looks really good. And your hair is jet black by now.

Whoever took control of you is an artist. As you're getting changed for dinner, you realize that everything in your closet is black. And a lot of it is shiny. Satin shirts. Leather pants. You choose a T-shirt that looks like it's painted on your body. Plus black track pants with gold stripes that perfectly match your necklace and watch. No one in the lobby, the hotel bar or the restaurant speaks to you in English. Everyone speaks Spanish to you as a matter of course. Y nadie se pregunta por tu acento porteño.

I don't follow your development all the time, unfortunately there are other support cases. But when I look at your account the next morning, you are lying naked on the black satin sheets of your apartment in San Telmo. You live not far from the club where you work. And in three days it's opening, until then your choreography must be perfect. After all, you are one of the main attractions.

The moment you put on your leather pants, the transformation of your body and your mindset is complete. Now I could still make changes to you. But I don't know what else I should change. For me you are perfect!

[xxavengingangelxx]

Somewhere Only We Know 1/?

This is part of a series: Long Way From Home. Graves gets ahold of 141's translator and demands she give up information she knows about 141.

Graves still has Val in this continuation. This continuation includes the events of MW3 so 141 will find out Graves is alive and they will learn where Val has been this whole time ;) MW3 SPOILERS Thanks to @unicorngirly1 for talking ideas with me!

Taglist!

@bellgraves, @unicorngirly1, @lily-lily131313, @shepgurl. If you'd like to be added and/or if I left anyone off, please let me know!

Triggers/Warnings: Mentions of torture, dubious consent, brainwashing, mentions of suicide. More will be added as the story develops.

-

“Un-fucking-believable,”

You were across the dark room, not visible to the camera, but Soap’s voice drew your attention and your head snapped in that general direction.

You’d been given orders by Shepherd and Graves: you can be in the room but you were not to move, not to make a sound and certainly not to approach the camera. 141 still thought you were dead, remember?

Consequences for approaching that camera? A return to a room similar to that cold, terrifying room where you’d spent your first week with Shadow Company being tortured for information that you eventually gave up. That was all you needed to hear. You in no way, under no circumstances, wanted to go back there so you’d do what you were told. Besides, you’d been more tired than usual, not feeling like yourself, like you were on the verge of getting sick, so it’s not like you even had the energy to put up with that. You wouldn’t be able to mentally handle it, either.

You’d make a third attempt on your life if you were returned to that room. Of that you were sure.

“Soap!” You heard Graves respond. “Ya miss me?” Graves laughed coldly. “Well technically you did, didn’t you?”

“Laswell, if you’re tracking this,” Ghost’s voice interrupted, “let’s call in an airstrike.”

“Ghost that is not nice,” Graves chided, almost as if he was speaking to a toddler. It made you wonder how he would be around kids.

“And Val?” Soap demanded.

“Now her ya did kill, Johnny,” Graves sneered. “Shame. I liked having her around.”

“Go fohck yerself. What’re you up to?” Soap’s voice snapped at Graves.

“I’m up to doing my fuckin’ job, kid. Maybe you should try it sometime,” Graves shot back.

“My fucking job is to kill the enemy. Guess what you are,” Soap spat back.

“Let’s keep this professional, boys,” Shepherd interjected. “Cap’n let me pain you the bigger picture. You need Makarov in a pine box. I’ve got the nails.”

The rest of the conversation was faded out because that name, Makarov…Makarov scared the shit out of you. Graves had told you that Vladimir Makarov liked petite, little, innocent-looking things and that like they’d done before with other male targets they might use you to help draw him in or distract him. You were Shadow Company’s femme fatale after all. You’d drawn in men before.

But the idea terrified you. Makarov was a different kind of monster. A psychopath. What was stopping Makarov from taking you like Graves took you? And Makarov you knew would not be nearly as ‘nice’ as Graves had been. Makarov would haul you to Russia and torture you himself. And he would get off on it. Unlike Graves Makarov wouldn’t hesitate to use rape as a weapon.

“Val,” Graves’s voice drew you back to the present.

“Graves,” you responded, shaking your head of the chilling thoughts that had occupied your mind only seconds before.

“We gotta meet 141,”

You sighed. Got teary eyed. What if they took you from him? So you said something. “They’re gonna take me from you,” you sniffled.

“We’re gonna have a fucking problem if they do,” Graves snapped. “We’re not moving forward until I get you back if that happens. They think you’re dead, Val. Remember that.”

You sighed again. “They better. I’ll raise hell ‘till they give me back.”

“I know it sucks,” Graves conceded. “But this is moving quick. We need Makarov. The quicker it’s done, they quicker we never see any of ‘em again.”

Makarov. That name. It gave you chills. You had the worst feeling about him.

Graves then gave a series of commands: wear both vests (we don’t know if they’ll try to kill you), wear your mask, wear your combat goggles, wear a helmet, wear a uniform. Do anything you can to hide your identity. Do not come within an arm’s length of them. You’re going to have a sidearm, your rifle, and a knife. And it all else fails? Run.

You followed orders and got dressed exactly how you were told to in the morning. You were exhausted. You hadn’t been sleeping well and your body ached.

-

It had been decided to meet in an abandoned warehouse. No electricity so it was easy to sweep for bugs. That meant no heat. It was raining and the dropping temperatures promised snow. It was miserable but at least all the layers you were wearing kept you warm.

You could feel 141’s eyes penetrating you.

You tried to tell yourself it was because out of a group of men you were by far the smallest one. The only female, obviously.

Price, Laswell, Shepherd, and Graves were in a room sealed off from the rest of you. Shadows were in that same room protecting Graves and Shepherd. Graves had wanted you in the same room as him but that risked Price recognizing you since the room was so small. The meeting would be quick, Graves promised. You only hoped it wouldn’t be drawn out.

That left you in a large room with Soap, Gaz, and Ghost. You stayed as far away from them as possible. You had your rifle hanging from your shoulder. You had your sidearm ready to go. The only problem was there was no damn way you could shoot any of them. You only prayed they’d stay across the room.

You didn’t like this. In fact you hated it. Why couldn’t another Shadow have stayed with you? Actually no. That Shadow might shoot at 141 and the last thing you wanted was to have them hurt.

Soap met your gaze. You had a soft spot for Soap. You two had been close. A little more than close but that was a story for another day.

“What’s your name, lass?” Soap called out. “Didn’ know he had female Shadows.”

You didn’t answer. You were scared your voice would give you away. You just pointed at your tag: P-80.

“I can’t read that,” Soap replied. “You can’t talk or sometin?”

You shook your head no. Duh. Of course you could talk. You just chose not to. Your voice was a lot softer than any of these men’s. It stood out. And they’d recognize it for sure.

“Your mannerisms remind me o’ someone I was close to,” Soap added. “Real pretty lass. Had a lotta fun wit her. But smart as ‘ell. Dangerous, too.”

“That you, Val?” Ghost asked.

“L.t.,” Soap whined. “I was gettin’ there.”

“I think it is,” Gaz added.

You shook you head no again. Tears pricked your eyes. This was getting to be too much. You didn’t care that you’d been told to stay out of that briefing room. You wanted to be in the same room as Graves.

“I know that’s you, Val,” That person, Ghost, calling your name was like someone lighting a fire under your ass. Graves had conditioned you to RUN from them if he wasn’t close by. You shook your head before taking off running, following Grave’s orders.

You were so frazzled that a flight of stairs presented too much of a challenge for you and you tripped, hitting the landing hard and slamming into the wall sideways, your head hitting the wall with force. You had a helmet on thank God but the hit still rattled you. Voices were scrambled and everything got blurry for a few seconds. You were about to get up and keep running when someone grabbed you by your vest and dragged you back up the flight of stairs you’d just tripped over. You fought not to scream to be let go.

Ghost had grabbed you. You knew because he was the roughest one out of the group. Only because he was incredibly protective of his men. After dragging you back up the flight of stairs he released you onto the concrete landing.

You tried to get back up. You were shoved down.

“On your knees,” Ghost demanded. Rifle raised.

“Ghost,” Soap started. “Don’t—”

“I’ve got this, Johnny,” Ghost retorted.

You sighed and dropped to your knees with hands held out.

“Helmet,” Ghost demanded.

You unclasped your helmet and took it off.

“The goggles and the mask,” came the next command.

“Fuck,” you mumbled to yourself.

You complied and took both off, dropping them to the ground next to you.

“Hoooly shit,”

You recognized it as Soap’s voice.

You shook the bangs from your eyes and glanced up.

Gaz was not far behind and approached. And you couldn’t do this. You couldn’t. You decided long ago you would never go back to them. They’d either kill you or send you to a military prison for the rest of your life.

Worst of all, Graves had said, you’d never see him again. You knew for a damn fact you couldn’t handle being separated from Graves.

So you pulled your sidearm and put it against your head.

The effect was instant.

141 backed off. Ghost dropped his rifle, leaving it to hang off his shoulder.

Immediately.

“Back off,” you stood up slowly.

They were speechless.

“What happened to you?” Gaz asked, eyeing you with stunned, wide eyes.

“Nothing,” You responded.

“Val, we’re not leaving,” Soap stated simply, his hands in front of him to show he was not reaching for a weapon. “Put the gun down, Jesus Christ.”

You didn’t respond. You lowered the gun from your head. Little did they know you’d rather die than be separated from Graves. In your panic you didn’t notice Soap was no longer in front of you. You raised the gun in their direction.

Yet not one of them reached for their weapon. You wondered if it was because despite how much you had changed they could see it in your eyes that you couldn’t shoot any of them.

“Let me go,” you warned, taking small steps backwards. “I’ll call him and they’ll come running.” Your mind flashed to that first night in Las Almas when Graves had ordered you to call out to 141. You being your stupid self had refused. Now you were actually threatening to scream to get Graves’s attention.

Then.

Your worst nightmare.

Someone grabbed you from behind. He placed a heavy, calloused hand over your mouth preventing you from screaming, from calling out to Graves. His other hand gripped your right wrist on such a way that you dropped your weapon. Your gun dropped to the ground. Soap expertly kicked it away from you. You were then flat on the floor on your stomach, the sudden movement aggravating the ribs that had been broken several times over now. Your rifle was taken. Your knife was taken. You were about to say, “Fuck you, let me go.” But duct tape replaced the hand that had been on your mouth.

They were treating you exactly like Graves warned you they would. You screamed into the tape because what else could you do? You were flipped onto your back and you immediately starting swinging fists, kicking, trying to scratch, anything to get them away.

Soap clearly was overwhelmed because he just stared in horror and how hard you were fighting. For what? To go back to Graves? To go back to the man who had inflicted that cut on your face that had scarred?

“Thas’ enough ‘o that,” Ghost said lowly. You’d forgotten how big he was because when he stood over you, he terrified you. He looked like the grim reaper. Zipties went around your wrists after your arms were pulled in front of you. But not before you put up a hell of a fight. You tried to scratch but only got Ghost’s Kevlar and uniform. Zipties brought back bad memories.

“You swing at anyone again,” Graves knelt in front of you while a Shadow ziptied your hands in front of you. You were lying on the floor, beat halfway to unconsciousness by said Shadow. “I’m leaving you in those with a broken arm,”

“Fuck you, sadist,” you mumbled as you lost consciousness.

-

Price, Graves, Shepherd, and Laswell were still in that small room. Talking about what you had no idea. You tried to use your hands ziptied in front of you to break the window of the SUV they were dragging you to.

You struggled, tried to be dead weight. Your worst fear was coming true. You were being taken from Graves. And you couldn’t scream because they’d taped your mouth shut.

But then you got an idea. You got into that SUV willingly because you had a plan. They’d removed the tape from your mouth provided you promised them you wouldn’t scream. The skin on your face was still red, though. Just wait until Graves finds out what they did to you.

-

I feel like this isn't as good as Long Way From Home. :( Idk why! But please let me know what you think! If you have ideas, message me! I'm thinking of opening an ask box :D I wanted to post a longer chapter but character limits got me!