#shit like your average high schooler would do and you’re just like “oh. I went to my 1 and a half hour long dance class and got ignored the

[jikigo]

you ever just see a post and just

. 😭

.⬅️🫀⬅️

[baecvlt]

Hello hello! I looove your work! I was wondering if I could requests Kazuichi taking his best friend(or lover! Just thought friend would make it more interesting) on a late night car ride to test some adjustments he made to it, could end up with some steamy car sex? Hopefully this made sense! I've been craving this kind of fic

Car Sex: Kazuichi Soda x Reader

a/n: It’d be an honor to write this. Hope you enjoy! ALso VERY WELL ESTABLISHED FRIENDSHIP HERE + projecting my interests onto reader because I get selfish AND I feel like Kaz listens to rock/alt/indie music. K byeee. ALSO READER IS FEM, pls specify next time

It was a Friday night, you were out for dinner with your best friend, Kazuichi Soda. You were glad to finally get out the house. It got lonely, plus you got to catch up with him and see him personally. He offered to pay for your meal, you allowed it since this time you were tight on money. As he paid, you notice he was excited about something.

“I know this is so last minute,” he began,“But I was wondering if you’d come back to the shop with me”

You nodded, but remained curious. “Of course, I’ll go, but why?”. He leaned toward you and he was excited. His leg was shaking and hands slightly shaking. “I’m finally finished with my car!,” he cheered,“I want you to be the very first to join me for a test drive!”. You smiled. Kazuichi had been working on this car since high school. He almost gave up on it too, so you were happy he never gave up on it. “Of course I’ll go!,” you told him, just as cheerful as he was. You both has walked to the restaurant, now walked back to the shop.

His family was there, closing the shop up. You obviously greeted them. He walked right past them and to the garage. A sheet was on top of the car. Once you were in the room, he walked towards it. He grabbed the sheet, doing a small countdown. “3..2..1-”. He yanked the sheets off, revealing a new and improved car. “So, what do ya think?”. You were excited with him now. “Jesus, the paint job on this is amazing!,” you said to him. “‘May have taken me my whole high school and half my college experience to finish it, but it was worth it!”.

“Totally”

“What do ya say? Should we take it out for a spin”

“You don’t have to ask me twice”

He cheered quietly, opening the passenger door for you and hopping into the driver’s side. He opened the garage door, pulling out of the driveway. He had only driven down the street and you saw how nervous he was. You grabbed his hand, he gasped when you did. “Hey, I’m sure the car is fine, don’t stress out”. He smiled, putting his arm around you. You relaxed laying back. You drove around for about half an hour, going up some hill to a mountain. “Where are we going?,” you asked him.

“We’re gonna look at the stars”

“Ooo, nice”

He parked by the edge of the mountain. It was weird because no other cars were to be seen. Usually there were. “By the way, I wanna show you the coolest thing here,” he said, opening the glove compartment. He took out a CD, Slowdive's 1993 album Souvlaki, and revealed he had a working stereo. "Holy shit, it works?," you were excited. He nodded, popping in the CD. "I love Slowdive," you mumbled. He smiled, chuckling a little.

"I know. You were listening to it the day we met"

"Oh! I was...Yeah, I remember you came up to me that day. You were so awkward"

"Right? God, I feel like I acted like a douche"

"You were like,'Hey, we shouldn't be able to hear your music'"

"Yeah, yeah. Then you were all,'Oh, sorry!'. Then, I was like,'Don't worry, but anyway, Slowdive, huh?'"

You both laughed. "God, I felt that you were trying to hit on me that moment," You told him,"But you're just...you're really nice". Smiling, he shook his head. "Do you miss high school?," he asked. You thought about it for a moment. Did you? "You know what," you began,"Partially". He was confused. "What do you mean?".

"Well, we all had good times in high school. We had good friends, all those memories. We've kinda drifted away, but that's why I partially miss it"

"So why don't you?"

"I felt like I didn't belong"

He looked at you sympathetically. "You all had an established talent. I didn't," you told him,"Sometimes, I still wish I hadn't gone". Hearing you say so saddened him. "But you're good at a lot," he said,"You were better than everyone there". "You're just saying--".

"No! I swear, you are talented at a lot. It was just never put into one thing. You aren't alone either. Hajime never had an exact talent, Nagito won a lottery...you belonged there just as anybody else. You are a Jack of All Trades—"

"—Master of None."

"NO! You are the master of all!"

You smiled. "I care so much about you. I'm really glad we met. I just know that if we hadn't met my life wouldn't be the way it is now...," he said,"So, please, never say that again! You belonged there". You lay back in your seat, trying not to cry. For the first time in forever you felt like you had a place in the world, it felt weird, but not bad. You weren't used to feeling important. "Are you even happy with your life?". He looked at his thumbs when you asked him that. You were afraid of his answer, you didn't know why, but you were.

"There are somethings I wish I didn't have to deal with, but when I think about you, I realize that it's all worth dealing with...and that makes me the happiest man in the world"

"Kaz..."

He said your name, his voice low when he did. It interrupted anything you wanted to say next and your thoughts were racing. "I..I—". He sighed. You knew whatever he had to say next was not easy for him to spit out. "You know how important this car is was for me, it took up my entire high school year to work on. I know I had fun doing it, but I didn’t build it for me,” he sputtered and you could tell he was nervous,“I made this car so that...so that I'd have something to impress you with the day I had the courage to tell you how I really feel about you. I love you and I have for so long. I don't see myself being with anyone else and I wanted you to think of me as the coolest guy you'd ever met and now you probably think I'm a chump–"

You launched yourself towards him, attacking his lips and you felt his skin radiating. He felt as if he had been kissed by an angel. "I love you too, Kaz," you whispered. You really did. Crawling onto his lap, you pushed his hair back. "I wish it hadn't taken you so long to tell me," you added, frowning,"We could have done all these cute high school couple things, then moved onto adult couple things". He kissed you this time, his hands on your hips as you nibbled his bottom lip. He managed to move you both to the passenger side in order to prevent your back setting the horn off. He stopped for a minute.

"'Adult couple things'?"

"Yeah"

"Well, we're adults now, aren't we? And who says we're too old to do what high schoolers do"

"You're not wrong either...but are you interested in doing adult things with me?"

He blushed and looked away for a minute,"I, uh- I've never done it before. I was waiting do it with someone who loves me, y'know? But- you love me, right?". You laughed, nodding. He laughed too, shaking his head as he reached up your skirt, his calloused and rough hands rubbing your thighs. "Hoh-okay, you asked for it". He leaned forwards to kiss you, grabbing the waistband of your panties as his tongue entered your mouth. He pulled them down, allowing you to remove the rest by making his seat go further back. You kicked them off, going to unzip his jeans and pull those down too along with his boxers. He was already rock hard and made you throb just looking as his cock. It was slightly above average in both length and girth, but what did you expect from a dork like him?

You took off your entire skirt before climbing right back into his lap right after pulling them down, he smirked and lowly praised you: "Good girl". He kissed you a little more before he grabbed his cock, ready to guide it inside you. "You ready?". You were shaking, but uttered a soft,"Yes...". Before he could, the Slowdive song you were listening to when you first met started playing and you knew this was meant to happen. You melted when he heard it too. It means it meant something to him and it meant as much to him as it meant to you. "You remember this song, baby?". He pressed light kisses on your forehead as you nodded. You felt his tip at your entrance and you whined. "W-Wait! Kaz, please be careful," you begged. He nodded and kissed you again. "I'll be soft," he reassured you,"Besides, I want to take my time with you. Okay?". You took a breath and relaxed.

"Okay"

"Uh, wait- I should probably ask. Did you wanna do this laying down? I don't think it's fair if you're on top during our first. Plus, I don't want your back to hurt"

"Y-Yeah, my back was starting to ache a little"

He nodded, putting the seat all the way back, now mimicking a bed. You switched positions, spreading your legs for him. He put the volume on the stereo almost all the way up before picking your legs up. He positioned himself again, pushing in just the tip. You gasped quietly, breaking into a very sweet moan as he pushed in all the way, groaning lustfully. He repeatedly pushed in: deep, but slow. He only felt his erection grow harder seeing you blush. Your little moans and soft whimpers when he'd hit that one spot you thought only you would be able to reach made him twitch inside you. He tried to keep his composure, but your walls constantly pumping him made it almost impossible. He leaned forward, desperately trying to kiss you. You could've melted right then and there, seeing how this man made love to you. "I-I love you..," he whispered against your lips. God, he was so cute too.

"I love you too, Kaz, but this is a little too slow now"

"Please, tell me what you need"

"I want you fuck me harder"

"Whatever you say, princess"

His thrusts went from "slow and deep" to "abrupt and very deep". "Like that?". You kissed him in response, grabbing his hair and pushing his head to you. His hips snapped inside you, making it harder to control your breathing. At this point, the windows as fogged up, making the air around you hot. He grabbed your breast, massaging them. You did him the favor of unbuttoning your blouse. You grabbing his hand and slipped it under your bra. "They're so pretty and warm," he mumbled. You could tell he didn't want you to hear that from how low he said it, but you heard it well. He pulled your bra down to your torso, ducking his head down to be able to suck on your breasts a little. "K-Kaz! I'm really sensitive there!". He didn't respond, so entertained by your boobs, knowing playing with them made you feel good.

Your stomach was in knots and it was hard to hold anything anymore.

It took one really hard thrust, making you squirt. He didn't even know it could do that. You didn't cum all the way through, making it uncomfortable now. You felt like you were being edged. "Kaz, it doesn't feel good anymore".

"Do we stop?"

"No, no! Just...I need to cum"

"I'll get you there"

His hands went back to your hips, slamming into you fast and deep. Your body trembled, shaking as he hit your sweet spot again and again and again. "Is this okay?," his voice husky as he was nearing his orgasm too. You nodded, whining. "I-It feel so good..please don't stop," you cried,"It's so good!..". He went faster, grunting softly. You were near crying, about to release. "Are you gonna cum?". He was just as impatient as you were.

"I'm cumming, I-I'm cumming"

"I can't last anymore. C-Can I cum inside?"

"Please, baby"

He groaned you name, shooting his load in you. You knew it was a lot too, feeling it when you moved. He pulled out, laying on the other seat lazily. You were still so turned on, pumping your two fingers in and out of you, securing his cum inside you. "Good girl". You picked your braw up to cover your chest since it was getting cold. "You look so pretty," he added. You were blushing as he helped you with your clothes. Naturally, you helped him with his. "I hope this is a good time to ask, but...". "Yes?"

"I want you to be my girlfriend"

"I'm so glad you do. Yes, Kazuichi, I'll be your girlfriend!"

"Yes! Fuck Yes! Oh god, I'm so happy!"

You kissed his cheek, making him become even more giddy as he wrapped his arm around you and drove you to his home. Kissing on his bed, he hugged you tightly afterward as you shushed him to sleep.

[feitanswife]

how to write a horror/mystery/gothic novel that takes place in Washington State:

General:

Kent is a shithole, no one goes to Seattle unless they absolutely have to, the beaches are not for swimming really it’s almost always too cold, and Yakima calls itself the Palm Springs of Washington and whoever decided that should be shot. It’s not the Palm Springs of anything. Palm Springs of depression and murder maybe.

our weather is moody and unpredictable, use that. The other day it went from brilliantly sunny to hailing in a few minutes. It just does that. Monday can be 75 degrees, Tuesday it could snow. Especially in spring.

Western half:

It doesn’t matter where your characters live, if it’s not the absolute heart of a big city your characters WILL have convenient access to woods. Maybe not a lot, but there will be, within fifteen minutes of brisk walking or eight minutes of driving, there will be trees and bushes enough to explore. There are narrow walking trails in green belts between suburban housing developments, undeveloped awkwardly shaped plots of land between grocery stores parking lots, and woods at the edge of parks that may or may not be part of the park.

1 in every 8 houses in the average shitty suburb is full of cultists. The cults have splinter fringe cults. It’s cults all the way down. If your neighbors go to ANY church that isn’t like, one of the big well known branches of Christianity, it’s generally assumed you should cut contact with them cause they’re not worth trying to save. My town had people who pretended to be Mormons to get away with even worse shit. If your characters are in high school, they WILL be accosted by people holding signs and spouting slurs outside the school gates at least once a year. It’s just a thing that happens.

Conversely: everyone knows a couple witches. It’s just a thing. If you go to a community college there’s like a 1 in 10 chance any student you talk to practices witchcraft, and the chance goes up exponentially if they look gay. In my friend group there’s only one non witch, somehow. Stick with the witches, they’re usually pretty cool.

Other gothic genres would have you believe that forests and fields and wild places are scary, don’t be fooled into believing that’s always the case here. It’s not. In fact, the forest is often a place of refuge from, yanno, the weirdos outside of it.

You may think I’m exaggerating but I had neighbors who boarded up their own house and tried to poison the rest of our street when they moved in and spent all Halloween trying to Indoctrinate children. And there was a group of like ten people who faked being from a nearby church as an excuse to harass high schoolers and nobody knew they were fakes until I accidentally told the story to someone who ACTUALLY WENT TO THE CHURCH and was like “uh no we don’t do that wtf???” And that’s how we found of that there were people to fucked up for even the Mormons, and got kicked out and started their own operation! So what did we all do? We started walking home through the woods behind the highschool!

Basically tl:dr if you’re writing on the western half of the state, frame it like there’s scary paranormal goings on in the woods only to plot twist that the villains are humans and the forest’s paranormal activities are helpful, not harmful. Nothing in the woods is scarier than what’s outside of it. Except like, bears and stuff. But usually bears aren’t actively trying to fuck your day up.

Eastern half:

FUN GEOGRAPHY LESSON: rain shadows! We got MOUNTAINS! And when you go over the mountains there’s a huge closet wasteland cause the water gets trapped in the west side! But, between the mountains and the wasteland there’s this beautiful strip of pine forest and meadows called Central Washington it’s beautiful, it’s heaven on earth, once you go there you’ll never want to leave.... except the people there are horrible. It’s like you took a chunk of the Deep South, shook all the actual good stuff out of it, and plopped it in the PNW. Everyone is so up their own asses with politics. trump signs everywhere. So many of them are those godawful rich people who think they’re not rich cause their four story log mansion happens to be in a rural area. I can’t believe I’ve never been hatecrimed over there for how damn gay I look. THE EXCEPTION TO THIS RULE is Ellensburg. Ellensburg my beloved. It’s the best town on earth. Most pedestrian friendly location I’ve ever lived, everyone is super nice, and it’s a college town so there’s always something fun going on!

Tri cities has a bunch of nuclear plant related stuff, do with that what you will.

Back to the fact that half this state is uninhabited due to being completely dry and barren: holy shit the east is scary. It’s just nothing. Rolling hills of nothing. A three hour drive of nothing, then you get to nothing (Idaho edition).

Wine country is its own beast and I would have to make a whole post waxing poetic about how much a vineyard has to give as a gothic setting but here’s the cliff notes:

very isolated, far outside a small town where all the locals know each other, lots of big machines, old dusty barns with cluttered lofts, for straight lines of grapes you can EASILY get lost in the fields, sometimes they scare crows with LOUD AIR CANNONS, hot as hell all the time, people are on the verge between “your cool uncle with money” and “this person has never existed on the same plane of reality as you”, every house has trained hunting dogs for some reason, there’s weird mysterious birds, possibly venomous snakes, and SWARMS of bees and wasps. Oh and everybody and their brother does vineyard weddings. I’m sick to death of vineyard weddings.

Don’t let the maps deceive you. There may be a bunch of town names out there, but that doesn’t mean anything’s there. One time to go camping we drove out into the middle of the state on I-90, took an exit and turned left and kept driving for another hour on completely abandoned roads with no sign of life (but dozens of abandoned rotting houses in the distance) just to get to a “town” that reeked of “we’re getting murdered here cause half of us aren’t white and one of the 3 white people has neon pink hair”. If people wanted to go anywhere they’d have to drive an hour just to get to the interstate. They had one school building for k-12. One gas station, one tiny store, one restaurant. I could lap the entire town in thirty minutes walking. And the first building we saw was a church. Just one. As if the townsfolk weren’t given much of a choice. And there are probably 50 identical towns scattered across the east of the state. Completely isolated.

Tl:dr: want a fresh spin on the “small town full of weirdos” story? Don’t set it in the rural south! Set it in Washington, where you get all the same archetypal weirdness except they think because they’re not in the south they have some kind of moral superiority, and also your lead has nowhere to run cause the landscape is so barren you can damn near see the curve of the earth, where are you gonna hide when the tallest plant goes up to your ankles?

[sparrow-flies-south]

Cursebreaking For Dummies

Fandom: Sanders Sides Rating: Teen Pairings: Virgil and Remus (either platonic or pre-romantic) Summary: Janus and Virgil had a good thing going, running the only magick shop in town. Even if they don't believe in magic themselves, there are plenty of people who do.Unfortunately, they might have done to good a job selling it, because now there's a guy asking for Virgil's help breaking a curse.  Notes: Written for the prompt “15: So you need to break a curse” sent by @theeternalspace, thanks so much!

Read on AO3 - My Masterlist

The Yellow Serpent was, according to the local paper, ‘the best occult shop around’. Janus had told Virgil this with the same smile he had worn when he had explained that he’d managed to get the answers for Mrs Bakers test – it was the look of a con carried out well.

No one was surprised when Janus left town as soon as high school was over. Everyone knew that Janus was destined for something more – though what that something was depended on who you asked. What was surprising was that Janus had come back, rented out the shop space left empty since the sewing shop closed, and started selling incense and magic crystals.

The way Janus had explained it to Virgil (and probably only to Virgil) was that there were two kind of people who ran magick shops (the k was important, apparently). The first kind was the true believers, the kind who probably had an altar in the back and had tested all the spells they talked about. The second were people who saw how much people were willing to pay for this stuff, and decided to take advantage of it. Janus was one of the latter.

Virgil and Janus were the only two full time employees, though with Janus managing the business side of things, Virgil was usually the one in charge of the shop itself. They had one part time employee, a high schooler named Elliot who seemed to have imprinted on Virgil since the moment they saw him.

It was the middle of the week, which meant it was quiet. Janus would be in soon, which at the very least would give Virgil someone to talk to. So far, there had only been two customers, so Virgil had started making up the herb bundles out of sheer boredom.

He’d just finished the last of the True Love Bundles (put it under your pillow while you sleep, or use as part of a spell) when the bell over the door jangled.

Virgil left the backroom and went into the shop itself, where the new customer had already reached the counter. He was dressed in a green crop top, a large backpack slung over his shoulders. There was a streak of white in his hair and he had a handlebar moustache. He didn’t look like the kind of person you’d expect to find in a shop like this, which made him a perfectly average customer.

“Quick,” the man said, “I need to break a curse.”

If Janus were here, he would ask the man what kind of curse it was, and direct him to a certain kind of incense which would ward away bad energy or something. Unfortunately, it was only Virgil, and Virgil was terrible at thinking on his feet.

“Is that a pickup line?” Virgil asked. The man just looked confused, and Virgil’s mouth kept talking without his brain’s permission. “You know, like true loves kiss to break a spell?”

Damn it, Virgil, stop talking.

The man suddenly looked interested. He leaned over the counter. “Do you want it to be?”

Virgil was sure his face was probably the colour of a tomato. Fortunately he was saved from either answering or being swallowed up by the earth by something barking in the man’s backpack.

“We don’t allow dogs,” Virgil said, taking the distraction and clinging on for dear life.

“Oh, it’s not a dog.” The man fished a creature out of his backpack and set it down on the counter. “It’s my brother.”

Virgil looked at the animal in front of him. The animal looked back. “Your brother… is a Pomeranian.”

The dog barked.

“Well, he is now,” the man said.

“Let me guess,” Virgil drawled, “A witch turned him into a dog.”

“Yes!” – The dog barked – “Well, a Dragon Witch, but close enough!”

Virgil was pretty sure not even Janus would be able to go along with this one. Of course, this would never happen to Janus, because Janus was a bastard who never had to deal with karma for his actions. No, instead the universe had decided to punish Virgil for the scam they were running.

“Okay,” Virgil said with a sigh. “You need to leave.”

The man had the audacity to look surprised. “What for?”

“How about everything?”

The dog growled, and Virgil took a step back. Sure, the thing was tiny, but Virgil wasn’t taking any chances. It still had teeth, didn’t it?

“You’re pretending your dog’s a person,” Virgil pointed out when the man still looked blank.

“He is!” the man protested, at the same time as the dog barked.

“Look,” Virgil snapped. “I only work here because my friend asked me to. None of this stuff is real! It’s all mass produced in some factory somewhere. So why don’t you find another audience for your hilarious joke and stop wasting my time.”

The man stared at him. If Janus had seen that, he’d probably start yelling. Not because Virgil shouted at a customer – Janus would have his back on that one – but because Virgil had said that it wasn’t real. Janus had a thing about never stopping the illusion.

Suddenly, the man tilted his head back and burst into loud, cackling laughter. The dog shot the man an irritated look, or at least, a look that would have been irritated, if it was capable of that. Which it wasn’t, because it was a dog.  It was probably just wondering when it would get to continue its walk.

“I don’t believe this,” the man said. “You sent me to a fake shop.”

The dog barked once, and Virgil must be losing it because he could swear the dog looked indignant. The man waved his hand.

“Sure, sure, anyone could have made that mistake. Hey, while we’re at it, why not try homeopathy?”

“We don’t sell homeopathic treatments,” Virgil said automatically.

Conning money out of gullible fools was one thing, Janus had said. Conning money out of desperate sick people was better left to televangelists and the health care system.

Speaking drew the man’s attention back to him, which was probably a mistake. He grinned, and lean over the counter, giving Virgil a good view of the purple eyeshadow he was wearing.

“So, know anywhere that sells real magic shit?”

There was probably a lot of ways Virgil could answer that. Unfortunately, the one his mouth chose was, “What the fuck is real magic?”

“I’m glad you asked! What’s your favourite animal?”

Virgil had no idea if he was witnessing a strange attempt at flirting, a far too elaborate prank, or a breakdown.

“You’re mad,” he told the man.

“Please,” the man said with a wave of his hand. “My father is mad. Call me Remus.”

Virgil snorted, and then tried to hide it with a cough. The man looked delighted. The dog very much did not. It tried to tug on Remus’ arm, which, since Remus wasn’t wearing sleeves, mostly involved biting Remus.

“So,” Remus said, apparently unaware that he was being mauled. “Favourite animal?”

Fuck it. What was the worst that could happen?

“Spiders, I guess.”

Remus looked Virgil up and down then nodded. “Goes with the aesthetic. Alright, Spiderboy.”

He cupped his hands together on the table, palms up. Virgil was about to ask what he was doing, when the air above his hands seemed to flicker, and a spider appeared.

Appeared was the only word for it. One moment there was no spider, and then the next there was one. Like when a video lagged, so the enemies just seemed to pop up.

The spider leaped out of Remus’ hands and towards the dog, who yelped and leapt backwards, falling off the counter. Remus laughed. Virgil should probably leap back too, but he was rooted in place.

“What the hell?” he cried.

“Tadaa!” Remus said. “Magic.”

Virgil shook his head, staring at the spider, which now stood in the middle of the counter. He reached one hand out, then immediately thought better of it and pulled the hand back again.

“Is it real?”

“Eh,” Remus shrugged, “Define real. You can touch it, though. Put your hand out.”

Virgil hesitated, because just because he liked spiders didn’t mean he instantly trusted them, especially when they appeared out of nowhere and were bigger than any spider had the right to be. Still, he figured that Remus probably wasn’t trying to kill him, so he placed his hand palm up on the surface.

The spider scuttled over. It stopped next to his hand for a moment, and when Virgil didn’t pull his hand away, it slowly stepped on.

“It’s solid,” Virgil said.

“Maybe,” Remus said. “Or maybe you just think it’s solid. Am I affecting the world or everyone in it?”

It was way too early for philosophical discussions, so Virgil just watched the spider crawl up his arm. It had reached his elbow when what was happening fully set it. Virgil jerked back with a cry.

“What is it?” Remus asked. The spider disappeared into nothing.

“This is real,” Virgil said. “Magic is real.”

“Uh, yeah,” Remus said. “Hey, are you okay?”

Virgil barely heard him, just like he barely heard the jingle of the door open and close. The world was spinning around him, and suddenly something seemed to crush his chest.

“I think I’m going to faint,” Virgil muttered.

The dog barked, sounding alarmed. Distantly he was aware of someone saying his name, someone taking his arm and leading him away. When the arm let go, Virgil sank down to the floor. Something nudged his leg, and he jerked back, in case it was another spider, but it was just the dog. Someone was counting, up to four, then seven, then eight. Breathing patterns.

Virgil matched the counting, and slowly felt himself come back to himself. He was sat in the back room, with Janus crouched in front of him, frowning. The dog sat by Virgil’s legs. Virgil had put his hand on the dog’s fur at some point. The dog looked slightly confused, but seemed okay with it.

“When did you get here?” Virgil asked.

“At the start of your panic attack,” Janus said. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” Virgil answered.

“It’s been a while since you had one,” Janus said hesitantly.

Virgil shrugged. It was true. High School had been the worst. Virgil had lost track of times Janus would pull him out of classrooms and into some quiet part of the school no one else knew about. No matter how often the teachers tried to stop Janus from going with him, Janus would refuse to leave his side until Virgil was better.

“Guess it was just a bad day,” Virgil muttered, because there was no way he was telling Janus what had just happened.

“Did the customer-?” Janus began, but was cut off by the dog barking.

“He didn’t do anything,” Virgil lied.

Janus’ frown deepened, because he could always tell when Virgil was lying. Virgil sighed.

“He wasn’t being a dick or anything,” Virgil said, which was true. “It just kind of… happened.”

“Alright,” Janus said at last. “Do you want me to deal with him?”

“No, I should do it. Plus, I kind of kidnapped his br-dog.”

If Janus noticed the connection, he didn’t say anything, just nodded and helped Virgil to his feet. Virgil went back to the counter, where Remus was still standing, drumming his fingers on the top.

“You alright, emo?” Remus asked. “Roman didn’t bite you, did he?”

The dog – Roman, the dog was Roman and was a person looked indignant at the suggestion.

“I’m fine,” Virgil said. He shook his head. “Not, scratch that. Magic is real.”

“I… don’t see why that would be a bad thing?”

Virgil glanced over his shoulder, but Janus wasn’t around. “What the hell am I supposed to do now?”

“You could come with us,” Remus suggested.

“What?”

“Well, we do still have to break the curse. You could help!”

Virgil and Roman looked at Remus with matching incredulity.

“I don’t know anything about magic,” Virgil said.

“It’ll be a learning experience!”

Virgil shook his head. “You only just met me.”

“So? You’re cute, and you seem fun. And I know I’m fun.”

He should say no. Magic or no magic, he didn’t know Roman and Remus, how did he know they weren’t serial killers or something? Magical serial killers. And even if they weren’t, breaking a curse sounded suspiciously like an adventure, and apparently getting cursed by a dragon witch was a normal part of their lives.

Virgil really, really, didn’t want to know what a dragon witch was.

All he had to do was say no, and Remus and Roman would leave, and Virgil would go back to his life and probably never see them again. He’d keep selling incense and crystal balls, and pretend he didn’t believe in any of it. He’d finish work, then go back to his shitty apartment, then go to work again.

Funny, he’d never thought of his life as boring before.

“Janus,” Virgil called. “I’m taking a break.”

Remus’ face split into a grin. Roman rolled his eyes, which was quite impressive, for a dog.

“Okay,” Virgil said, once they were all outside. “How do you break a curse?”

“I have no idea!” Remus said. “Why do you think I came here?”

“Great. So none of us have any idea what we’re doing.”

“Hey! You’re getting the hang of this.”

Well, even if he died, at least it wouldn’t be boring.

[idonthaveanaccent]

It’s been a while

Hello everyone, it’s been months since I last posted anything on here. I don’t know if I still want to post anything on tumblr, but I figured I should use the platform I gained a little at least. 

I’ve changed a lot and I like to think my writing has improved since creating this blog at 14/15. I’ve included the first chapter of a story I’m writing. I’ve included a link to it, it is available on wattpad.

The Immortal and the Cursed

Who knows if I’ll ever post anything again...college was shit so I’m no longer in school for this semester so I have a lot more free time and plan on working on writing more and hopefully one day publishing my stories.

I hope you all have a good day.

Seattle, 2018

"AND SO, THE WAR of 1812 was significant to America as it helped to..."

I watched as the class remained silent, their lifeless eyes staring at me with hollowed expressions. A sigh escaped me as I ran a hand across my forehead. As per usual, my class was basically dead. This was what my on-level history class looked like. My eyes scanned the crowd before landing on Derrick, a kid who was busy whispering to his friend about something. I was going to relish this moment. "Derrick?"

The kid jumped in his seat before looking at me like a deer caught in headlights. "Yes, Mr. Herwy?"

"Can you answer my question?" I asked, quirking an eyebrow.

Derrick muttered something under his breath as he looked around. "Uh— What was it again, sir?"

A few people snickered, but I quickly cut them off with my hand. "How did the War Of 1812 impact America?"

The boy frowned as he began to think. I watched the gears turn inside his head before he looked up. "It made lots of people die?"

I nodded. "That's one impact. But what I want to know is long term impacts. There's one big one that I think we should really focus on. Think of today's world and think of the people we fought during the war. What changed between then and now?"

Now everyone was thinking. I knew I had mentioned it. I did, didn't I? Honestly, couldn't tell anymore if I had said something or if I had forgotten to mention it entirely. Derrick frowned, rubbing his chin. Suddenly, a voice from the back piped up. "Canada."

Everyone turned their attention to Cera, a young and timid girl. Her voice immediately paled as she saw all the attention. "What was that, Cera?" I asked.

Her face flushed as she looked down at her hands. "Our relation—relationship with Canada changed."

"Thank you, Cera! That is a perfect example!" I shot up from the desk I had been perched on. The entire class jumped at my sudden burst. I didn't care, though. My passion for history overtook everything. "Before the War of 1812, Canada and the US were simply just neighbors. They didn't like one another, especially since Canada was still under the control of England. After the war, the US and Canada made a treaty that is still lasting to today. It is the longest standing peaceful border in the history of the world. We have never fought against Canada since."

I saw a few students scribble down what I said before I changed the slide. "Another very important part of the War of 1812 was—"

••••

THE SMELL OF RANCID lunch meat made me gag. Thankfully I didn't have to sit in the cafeteria. However, I needed to talk to a teacher that was on duty here. Due to budget cuts, Maryanne had to watch the high schoolers in order to keep things safe.

My eyes scanned a table populated by giggling teenagers. I grimaced. My stomach rolled in physical pain at the sight of the 'meat' and 'food'. It had gotten really bad in my entire existence.

I immediately remembered hunting and killing my food way back in the day. My chest tightened. Maybe I didn't miss those days as much. It was always a fight for survival, one more intense than todays. In today's world I could drive down the street and pull into one of the fast food places for a quick bite to eat. I could stop by any gas station and buy a water or a bag of chips. While it was less healthy than the past, it made things more convenient.

My mind wandered to my old friends. They would've loved this.

Immediately my mood soured. I couldn't indulge in such thoughts. My attention went back to the task at hand. Finding Maryanne to ask her about a lesson plan.

I was tasked with teaching her class during fifth period because she had to help set up the assembly the school was having during sixth. I don't know how she managed a wild group of history students while also being the student council teacher. I was barely able to hold these rug rats at bay in my classes, and yet she taught two different types of kids.

Dividing these students into types made it easier for me to identify the most likely reaction they would have to something. There were the charismatic popular kids, the popular for some reason kids, the average kid who was smart, the average kid with average grades, the failing kid who was smart, the failing kid who was not smart, and late but not least, the delinquents. Of course, there were sub groups as well, but I didn't have time to list all of them in my head.

I had just found Maryanne.

The petite woman looked like the super sweet Hispanic neighbor that those kids in movies always have who shower them with delicious food. Maryanne was that woman. She couldn't bake or cook in general, but otherwise she was really sweet. I towered over her, but most times people couldn't tell the difference between me and a student.

My chest tightened. I would forever look like a teenager. It made going to bars really difficult. It also made it real awkward when a parent came in and asked where Mr. Herwy was. I once had a parent ask me if my dad was out at the moment, and another time one of my student's sister hit on me. Awkward.

"Maryanne! Mrs. Garcia!" I called, waving at her.

The woman looked to me and then smiled. "Lawrence! How can I help you?"

"I need your lesson plans. Where did you put them?" I asked, stopping in front of her.

"I believe they are in the second drawer on my desk. If not, then just know they are learning about the Salem Witch Trials."

I felt my throat dry up. "You're that behind?" I croaked.

Maryanne nodded. "As an AP teacher we go more in depth. That means we spend more time on events."

I tried not to take offense to that. I didn't want to go through and learn how to teach AP kids. Plus, it was way harder to grade them and such. Ick. "Well, it's a good thing colonial America is kind of my thing."

"That's why I wanted you to teach them. I think they'll like you, Lawrence." Maryanne winked at me, a grin spreading on her face. "Oh, by the way, there is a new student too, so just keep a good face on and all that jazz."

I nodded, giving the needy woman a soft smile. "Will do. I will see you later. You owe me!" I called after her as I walked away.

Maryanne laughed as I walked off. My mind then ran off to the task at hand. I had to teach the Salem Witch Trials.

I rubbed my neck, my face darkening. History was my thing, but there were certain events I did not like to talk about. Whenever it was time to talk about be witch trials, I typically briefly talked about them. However, if I were to just gloss over it, Maryanne wouldn't be happy. Something twisted within my gut. I immediately tumbled into the nearest teacher's bathroom. My legs gave out in front of the toilet. It was just in time to as all the contents of my delectable lunch spilled into the bowl. A groan escaped me as I leaned back, pressing my back against the wall.

Dammit.

After making sure I was not going to throw up again, I stood up and made sure to clean any evidence of my episode up. I knew it had to do with thoughts of the trials, but that couldn't be helped. After years of it still haunting me and talking to a few people about it without giving away too many details, it was determined I had PTSD. It wasn't hard to imagine that I did, especially since that was the most horrific time of my life.

My neck ached once more, and I rubbed it as I walked out of the bathroom. The next ask for me was getting a mint because I could taste the vomit in my mouth. My mind immediately went to Miss Robinson, the lady at the front desk. She had a huge bowl of mints and I would need some of them.

By the time I reached the desk and had grabbed a handful of them, lunch was almost over. "Lawrence, did you eat some tuna or something?"

I looked down at the young woman and gave her a dazzling smile. "Yep. I have to teach Maryanne's kids too so I gotta make a good impression."

My stomach rolled hazardously as she laughed. "Good luck. I heard fifth hour is full of the self-centered kids that everyone loves."

I muttered a few obscenities, which only furthered her hysterical state. "Goodbye, Miss Robinson."

"It's Emma, Lawrence!" The young woman said as I walked off, a bright red flushing over her cheeks.

While I was flattered that she was into me, I knew that nothing would come from it. I couldn't afford to hand my heart out to anyone. That would only lead to yet another crack. I don't know how many more I could endure before my heart shattered.

I barely made it to Maryanne's room before the bell that ended B lunch and started fifth hour began. I quickly went to her desk and found the lesson plans. My eyes skimmed the paper before I heard people begin to come into the room. I glanced up and saw students walking in. When they noticed me, they immediately began to whisper amongst themselves. I sighed before continuing to read this paper full of retched memories for me.

By the time the bell that signaled class was starting rang, I had managed to quell any nausea threatening to break way. I looked up at all the students talking. I picked up the roster sheet and then looked down. I adjusted my glasses before clearing my throat. "Okay then."

Everyone looked at me. I saw a girl looking at me with a confused glint in her eyes. She was probably the new kid. "So, I'm Mr., Herwy, one of the other history teachers here. Mary— Mrs. Garcia is busy setting up the assembly for next hour, so I'll be filling in. Let's do roll first, okay? Uh— Marcus Alcantara?"

I watched a boy in the back nod to me as I raised his hand. "Here."

And so, I continued down the list, butchering a few names. It's not my fault I can't read every single name these kids have. I speak five languages and yet none of those names were ones I could speak. It's honestly stupid. People these days were so strange. "Did I get everyone?" I asked after marking down everyone who was absent.

The one girl raised her hand. "And what's your name?"

"Lavern Yeller."

I stiffened at the name but smiled nonetheless. "Are you the new student Mrs. Garcia told me about?"

Lavern nodded, her face flushed red. I chuckled before writing her name down. "Perfect. Who wants to take this to the office?"

After handing it to someone, I began to lesson. "Today we will be talking about the Salem Witch Trials. Who here knows what they were and why they happened?"

Some kid whose name was Kyle raised his hand. I pointed at him as I took a seat on a table near the Smartboard. "So, the Salem Witch Trials was an event in which people were executed for being witches, and they happened because of hysteria or some form of it."

"Yes. There're other theories that perhaps disease and boredom also played a part, as well as a want for power. Other than that, that is basically what happened. A group of 22 people were executed because they were thought of as witches or warlocks. Warlocks being male. Now, Salem was a Puritan colony. Can someone explain a Puritan to me?" I adjusted my glasses again, my stomach churning.

A young girl whose name was Hannah raised her hand. Kyle did as well, but I called on her instead. She gave Kyle a pointed look score looking at me, batting her eyelashes. "The Puritans were a group who came from England because they believed that the church was corrupt, and so they wanted to come to America to make their own, better version."

"Very good, Hannah." Her face flushed red and she winked at me. I kept my face as neutral as possible. She was a teenager, she had to know flirting with me was illegal. "Puritans followed the Bible to a T because they saw it as the exact word of God. They also believed in predestination, so no matter what they did, they were either going to heaven or damned to hell for all eternity. Now, one thing they did think would automatically damn you was becoming a 'Devil's Agent'."

I watched as thy began to write down what I was saying. "They believed that when a person made a deal with Satan, they became a witch or warlock. There were tell-tale signs of them being one too. If they were unable to speak the Lord's Prayer or if they were able to hold a rifle, with their arm extended and their finger in the barrel, they could be a witch or warlock. They also checked for any physical flaws, such as a skin tag. They called them 'witch's tit', and so the person might be sent to the gallows.

"Now, of course, finding proof of actual witchcraft is impossible. However, people would often fake being possessed by demons in the witch's presence or fake symptoms of curses to better sell the witch. The people who started the witch trials are two young girls named Betty Parris, who was only nine, and then her cousin Abigail Williams who was eleven. They talk to a slave named Tituba for advice on their future husbands. After telling their fortune using a West Indian ritual, the girls began to act erratically. They identified Tituba and two other women as witches."

I watched as they continued to write. I took this chance to begin writing down every person executed. My stomach rolled, and a sick feeling began spreading across my spine. As I wrote my name, memories of the rope tightening around my neck flooded through me. I bit my lip, trying to focus on anything but that. If I blacked out now—

"Mr. Herwy, why is your name up there? I mean, your name is Lawrence, right?"

"It's a strange coincidence, isn't it? But no, me and his Lawrence are not the same. He was barely nineteen when he was executed. Hung. Poor kid. Anyways, let me get into some of these people and why they were accused—"

A strange feeling suddenly filled my body. I immediately felt dizzy. The next thing I knew, the ground was rapidly approaching me. I could hear people calling my name as I fell forward. The feeling simply spread, and it took me a moment to realize what it was.

As soon as I realized exactly why I had collapsed, my head hit something hard. A desk, I think.

My eyes rolled into the back of my head. As everything turned black, I came to the realization of where this horrific event had just taken place.

Salem.

[jennadrawsandgames]

Don’t Go Alone - A Creepypasta OC Story

Before I get into the story, I want to tell you all that this is an original character I created. A story told in a different person’s perspective. Other than that, I hope you enjoy.

-

I’ve never expected that this town was the heart of missing people. Just the other day, a report of three middle school children went missing. I was fazzing out whenever the news reports talked about the children, and their names. I mean, they didn’t matter. I’m not some type of investigator or police officer. I’m just an average teacher at the prep school downtown that opened just months ago. If I needed to know the children’s names, then I would care. Besides, their just about to become high schoolers. They can take care of themselves.

“Mr. Johnson, the principal was hoping to see you.” Katie, my TA told me as she dropped the class phone, snapping me out of a minor transition.

“Oh, okay. Thank you Katie.” I replied to the high schooler.

She looked kinda disappointed in me when I was just leaving the empty classroom. It’s like she’s missing something. I brushed it off so I can focus on what’s coming to me now.

The empty halls filled with lost papers of homework, little doodles, and missing papers of students. Just having the feeling I’m missing something myself. It must’ve been the coffee from this morning.

I managed to get into the office to meet with the principal, but everyone seemed to be depressed over something. It’s just washing over everyone. I just see the man waiting for me in the doorway like always.

“Good morning Johnson.”

“G-good morning sir.” I just felt so hesitant when the words came out of my mouth.

“Come in. I need to chat with you for a moment.”

He let me into the office. It was just filled with many papers of bills and missing papers of students and some teachers over the last few months. You can’t even see his desk with all of these papers from worried parents and government officials and complaints of how unsafe the school can be from the amount of people going missing.

“You must be wondering why I wanted you in my office.” William Woodrow gave me a grin hoping for the response I’ll give back.

“I was sir. You called me while I was preparing for my English classes with my TA when you called.” I replied back still feeling worried on where this conversation is going.

“Look, we’re not getting a good reputation with all these complaints of missing children and one of our own students going on a homiside just in October. I also looked into your resimay and your were in the army. Aren’t I correct Johnson?”

“Whoa-wait. What does being part of the military 4 years ago have to deal with being a teacher?”

“We need your help to find those missing children. I hate the school getting a bad reputation because the parents are coming to me instead of the government about their children.”

“Sir, I don’t want to look back into my military past. I never wanted to speak about it ever again. Please just let me be the thing I wanted to be-.”

“That’s why I’m not giving you an option. You do what you’re told to do, and you’ll do it.”

I went silent when he stated that to me.

“That’s what a thought. You and some other teachers will begin the search tonight, 7 pm. You’re the only one who knows how to use a gun, so you’ll be leading the group. I hope to see good results from you like always.”

I started to leave the room since that was the only thing he needed me for. My question is why Principal Woodrow making me and other teachers be a search party? Most of these children could be faking of going missing just to make is an excuse to not do school. I only signed up to become a teacher after leaving my past life behind. The tactics they’re teaching in the Army were very sketchy like we’re going for war against each other. I’m just a black individual trying to live a better life, not make it worse for myself.

The day continued on like how it should be, but I can’t get that thought out of my head. The principal has now gone insane. I just had to accept this offer. I need this job. If I lose the job, I lose everything. I wish it didn’t have to be this way.

It’s about 6:30 pm when some other teachers started to arrive at the meeting point. Most of them will back out of it and lie about the search. They eventually left at 7:00 out of the fact there’s no use to it. I went into the entrance of the woods all by myself. It sucked to not have others around me for support.

“Pussies. They pretend to be something they aren’t. Just man up and we’ll find out the truth.” I told myself since nobody was around.

The entrance to the woods is gone even from not making that much progress in. It gave me the chills to see only trees and freshly made foot prints from last night. This must’ve been where those children went.

It’s been getting darker, almost pitch-black. It feels like forever since I last entered in. Especially how I still found nothing. I was at the point of giving up when I found a stench coming from around the area. It smelled like flesh being cut opened just recently. I stepped onto a log, but it felt so squishy? The stench grew stronger the more I stepped onto these logs.

I looked down to see exactly what I was stepping on and was shocked. These weren’t logs at all. These were the children that went missing last night. I was so shocked that I couldn’t move at all. Fear just swallowed me up whole.

“You know, it’s funny to say for a man like you to be a fucking wimp and stand up for yourself.” A voice giggled around me.

“Who-who’s there? I got a gun and I’m not afraid to use it!”

“Andrew Johnson. English teacher at Pacific Prep. A private educational school for middle schoolers and high schoolers. It sucks how shady the government is to use students from that school as extermination weapons.”

“The fuck you’re talking about and how do you know my name?”

“That’s a secret for another day, if you can last. Everyone knows not to enter into my woods alone, or at least my father’s woods.”

I shine my phone’s flashlight around, hoping to find where the voice is coming from. This has to be a student prank.

“Show me your fucking face you bitch!”

“Aw.. You called me a bitch. Such an insult from a ‘holy man’ like you. You can say I’ve known you for a while now. Just hiding behind a mask.”

I managed to finally find some movement of a girl wearing one of the school’s uniforms? Half her face was covered with a mask that’s covered in blood. The worst part was how bloody the uniform was. I can see her holding a pistol of some kind. It was a custom made pistol.

“Uh oh.. You found me~.”

“G-get away you monster!”

She jumped down from the trees cocking the pistol up. I felt so defenseless when I met eye-to-eye.

“Who are you?”

“You can say I died in October, but never did. You can say the one who helped the government kill protesters that were fighting for their rights. You can also say I’m the girl who was falsely accused for many fights I’ve never started before getting suspended for breaking a bitches’ nose.”

“Evelyn Brooks? Holy shit. How are you alive?”

“I never died. I only escape. They thought I was the mouse, but I was really the cat with the mouse in my hands. Well bummer that you now know a lot. I could keep you alive, but that would never be fun.”

She didn’t answer my question. Well she did, but why like that? I just realized I still have my gun fully loaded, so I can get back alive. I quickly aimed at her arm and tried to shoot her, but she was already gone.

“Oh now we’re playing. Only one gets out alive.” Her voice rings inside my head as my hands gripped right onto the gun barrel. That’s when I felt a sharp object hit my back. I turned around to see nothing, but it happened again.

Shit, she’s too fast. I don’t even know where she is anymore. I need to think to get out alive. I’m already losing a lot of blood were also too deep in for anyone to hear a person. I just grabbed the gun and shot around the area hoping to hit the girl.

I ran out of ammo just at my second turning. This became bad, to worse. From at top, I see the girl firing shots at me. She was only grazed by some of the bullets, but nothing else. I was in complete shock how this girl survived that without being badly hurt. She definitely knows what she’s doing which makes it the worst part of it. She shot 5 times and all of the bullets hit me in my arms and legs. It just hurts to move anymore and dropped to the ground on top of the dead children’s bodies.

“You know, that wasn’t a bad fight you put up. The first one to manage a hit onto me. And I don’t go by ‘Evelyn Brooks.’ I go by Eve.” She says as she shoots the final bullet into my head and rips the knives out of my back. My body lies there as everything goes black.

-

“This is the daily news for today. This morning police officers found 4 bodies known to be the 3 children that went missing and the fourth one being the man of Andrew Johnson. A teacher for Pacific Prep. Before he was found dead, some teachers saw him enter into the woods near the town around 7:00 pm. He was the only teacher that fully consented to search for the missing children which the school funded a search party to find the students. Police also found a pistol that was there at the crime scene and looked into the gun and saw something they would never expected. Engraved within the gun, ‘Project EVE.’ Were theorizing that this gun to the owner was responsible for the murders of all of those peaceful protesters from October, to December.”

“We also heard about another student that goes to Pacific Prep, Skylar Evans, was considered dead by the government. Before she went missing last month, she was last spotted walking from a small cafe before heading to the school. They claimed to find her dead in the woods as well during the search party that happened earlier this morning. We’re not sure this is true, so we’ll keep the investigation ongoing. That’s all of the news for today.”

The television turns off with people surrounding the area.

“It’s nice to know you’re back from keeping the people away from our territory.”

“I did find someone hiding that was eating some flesh while I was on my way back. Her name, Skylar Evans, but she would be preferred to be called ‘Patient Ø.’”

“Thank you for the information Eve. We’ll have you get her to us tonight, so we can meet her.”

[katiekitty261]

Desperation//Michael LangdonxFem!Reader

This is my anon requested fic about pissing off Michael and him fucking the shit out of you. Degradation filled, this is honestly a sin. (Post red glove, pre-apocalypse Michael)  also, you’re Jeff’s sister. You can imagine adopted or not :). I stared at this gif for an uncomfortably long time. 

Word Count- 5,000+ (I went a little overboard) 

warnings- Michael has a fun time punishing you, need I say more? 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, Jeff. I didn’t want to work for your stupid Robotics company, so why are you forcing me to work for this Cooperative?” You crossed your arms over your chest as you stared at your bother, a look of annoyance in his eye that matched yours.

“You don’t have a choice, (Y/N). We need all hands on deck now. The company’s gone. We work for him now.”

“Who’s him? I haven’t agreed to anything.”

Jeff gestured to the door, and as if he was waiting for his dramatic cue, A tall golden-haired man walked through the door. He was adorned in an all-black affair, making his porcelain skin and ghostly blue eyes stand out. He approached you slowly, taking his sweet time as he crossed the room.

“Michael Langdon, this is my sister (Y/N), (Y/N), this is Michael Langdon…the Antichrist.” You knitted your brows together, and couldn’t hold back a laugh as you stared at the man before you.

“Something wrong?” He tilted his head at you, you covered your mouth as you snickered, trying to compose yourself.

“No way in hell you’re the antichrist. I’ve seen scarier people catcall me in the street.”

Michael’s eyes flashed with anger and he took a heavy step toward you, his hands clenched in tight fists like he was prepared to throw a punch at you any second. Jeff’s hand grabbed him by the coat sleeve and pulled him to a stop.

“I wouldn’t go insulting him, (Y/N). He could kill you in the blink of an eye. Literally.” Jeff said with a very uncomfortable tone. You had a feeling he had witnessed exactly that.

You eyed Michael as he stood still in front of you, his hands still clenched in tight fists and his lips pulled together as if he was holding back a slew of curse words.

“I thought the Antichrist would be more...Buff?” You propositioned, “Right?” You heard Mutt’s voice from across the room making you laugh. Michaels' eyes closed in clear annoyance.  

“I won’t tolerate your lack of respect (Y/N),” Michael spoke, seemingly finally finding his voice.

Ignoring the fact you enjoyed hearing your name fall from his lips, you raised an eyebrow at him and leaned against the desk behind you, “Or what? Are you going to kill me? I don’t think Jeff here would like it very much if you killed his sister. Especially when I know you need his help.”

“I won't hesitate to kill you if you continue to disrespect me or disobey me. I will slit your throat on the spot in front of him and he won’t do a thing about it.” His voice was commanding and sent a chill down your spine, but it wasn’t from fear. You swallowed the lump that had formed in your throat and steeled your nerves.

“I guess we'll just have to see then, won’t we Michael?” You made sure to look him in the eyes as you spoke his name. Judging by his response, He clearly didn’t want you calling him by his first name. Fire blazed behind his cerulean irises and it made you smile knowing how little it took for you to get under his skin.

“I don’t obey” You turned as you spoke, you could feel all eyes on you in the room as you made confident strides toward the exit. You called his bluff, knowing he wouldn't follow after you despite your words.

______

Against your protests, you did end up working for the Cooperative. However, there was a silver lining. Instead of filling your days with paperwork and boring business calls, you made it your job to absolutely annoy the fuck out of Michael Langdon. It was just too much fun to see him get angry at you for the smallest grievances, like leaving the door to his office open when he told you to keep it closed, or ignoring him when he spoke to you like he wasn’t there much like a middle schooler would for a kid they didn’t like. It was the little things that really pissed him off. You didn’t know exactly why you were even brave enough to continuously push his buttons, everyone else seemed to have a firm grip on the reality that he was the Antichrist.

Despite the fact he gave you an eyeful of his fancy “666” scar, you pretended to ignore that simple fact about him.

You discovered all kinds of fun ways you could annoy the great “Michael Langdon”, and you knew it was only a matter of time before he snapped at you. You didn’t care much if he ended up killing you over it. He was planning on blowing up the world anyway and you were certain he’d lock the door to any sanctuary if you tried to get inside. Not that you wanted to spend an eternity locked in an underground box with that man.

“Ms. (Y/N), Mr. Langdon has requested to see you in his office.” The voice of Michael’s robot mommy broke you out of your musings, making you frown.

“I don’t care.” You crossed your legs as you looked at the women, her arms tucked behind her back. “It’s not an option (Y/N), I was ordered to bring you to his office.”

“Well, he’s just gonna have to wait. I’m Busy.” You grabbed a random stack of papers and pretended to inspect them, but Mead had walked over to your side and grabbed you by the collar, yanking you so hard you were surprised it didn’t rip your blouse.

“Not an option.” She spoke again, beginning to pull you by your collar practically choking you. You struggled to get her off of your shirt but you couldn’t make her robotic hand budge. She began to drag you behind her, you fought her all the way until you both reached the door to Michaels office.

She shoved you into his office making you stumble and almost fall to your knees, not being able to keep your balance on your black heels. Mead slammed his office door loudly behind you and left you enclosed and alone with a particularly pissed off looking Michael. You straightened your skirt and gave Michael a sickeningly sweet smile.

“To what do I owe this honor, oh mighty Antichrist?” You said in a mocking tone.

Michael took a deep breath as he stared at you, his eyes scanning you with a bored expression as he lounged in his seat behind his desk.

“Was this you, (Y/N)?” He pushed a piece of paper to your attention, you walked over to inspect it.

The paper read in black bold ink, CANCEL ALL APPOINTMENTS FOR MR. LANGDON ON MONDAY AFTERNOON, HIS REGULAR VISIT WITH RYAN REYNOLDS TO RESUME.

You didn’t bother holding back your laughter.

“Yep, that was me. I thought you might enjoy a little visit from Ryan, everyone else around here seems to enjoy him.”

Michael looked the opposite of amused.

“Do you have a death wish, (Y/N)? Because you don’t seem to understand how close you are to me snapping your neck.”

His tone was cold, but you didn’t pay attention to it. His threats fell deaf on your ears as you stood before him.

“Not at all Michael, I don’t wanna die. I wouldn't have nearly as much in hell without you there.”

“What are you after then?” He said, quietly almost as if he was only saying it to himself. His hand supported his chin, and he tapped a long finger to his lips as he was thinking. You allowed yourself to stare back, taking in the view.

You weren’t blind, you knew Michael was absolutely gorgeous. Probably the most beautiful person (If you could call him that) you had ever seen. Besides the fact that you constantly joked about him, there was something you deeply admired. He carried himself with an air of superiority that made the average man’s knees buckle at the sight of him. You admired the power he held, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t occasionally feel a wetness between your legs when he entered a room.

Michael Langdon was born of chaos and sin, and you enjoyed dipping your toes into the chaos.

“Can I go now? I’m very busy and you’re cutting into my valuable time by staring me down.”

A smirk graced his lips and he sat back in his chair, his hands gripping both armrests as he looked at you with his unsettling grin.

“I know what you're after.” He spoke, his voice even and smooth. You tilted your head in confusion.

“What are you talking about?”

Michael got up from his chair, making his way over to you until he was practically towering over your form. His eyes burning into you as he stared you down. Every muscle in your body wanted to move, but you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of him knowing that he made you uncomfortable.

He brought his lips to your ear, his hot breath on your exposed skin and his close proximity made goosebumps spring up on your arms. “You want me, To punish you…” His voice was barely a whisper, but it sent a shiver down your whole body. Your mouth went dry, and you were at a loss for words.

“I have no I-idea what you’re talking about,” You cursed yourself for stuttering, this time you were definitely trying to back your way to the door.

“Oh, is that so (Y/N)? If I pressed you against the wall right now and put my fingers between your thighs are you telling me you wouldn’t be dripping for me?” His lips were a millimeter away from yours now, his eyes piercing into you like he was looking directly into your soul.

You tried to find the words to respond, but just as your brain finally connected with your mouth he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you into him so there was space between you and the wall, throwing open the door to his office with one motion and pushing you out and straight onto your ass.

“Fuck you, Michael.” you sneered at him, trying to fix your skirt that was now riding dangerously high on your thighs as you sat in a heap on the floor.

“You don’t deserve it.” He smirked one last time before slamming the door hard in your face.

__

For the next few days, you were hyper-aware of Michael every time he was in the same room with you. He seemed to notice it too, that smug bastard always painted a smirk on his face when he noticed you. You were angry. Angry that he knew exactly was your darkest desires for him were. Angry he was making you feel this way.

He was enjoying the peace and quiet from your lack of annoying presence far too much. You weren’t going to let him win.

You made sure to wear your sluttiest ‘work’ outfit, for good measure. A short and skin-tight black pencil skirt that made your ass rival that of the antichrist’s himself. A crimson red blouse that left little to the imagination in the cleavage department, unbuttoned just one button lower than what was probably considered decent.

You weren’t wearing it to tease Michael specifically, but one employee that you knew could be convinced to do anything if a good pair of breasts were in his face. You sauntered through the hallways, swaying your hips as you walked.

You stopped at a desk, the brunette sitting behind it looking like he was having a hard time concentrating at his computer with the pile of cocaine in front of him.

“Mutt,” You said, propping yourself on the edge of his desk and leaning over to look at him. His eyes met yours and then widened when he saw what you were wearing.

“Uh, (Y/N)... what is it?”

“I wanted to ask you a favor.” You smiled at him, he looked around as if he was trying to see if anyone else noticed, not that you cared. You’d never actually go for him, not only was he your brothers best friend he definitely wasn't your type.

“What kind of favor are we talking here?”

“I want the key,” You moved closer, so your face was next to his. “To Michaels office.”

“Michaels office? I can’t give you that!”

“Shh, don’t scream it.” You put your hand up to silence him. “Yes, you can. I know you have the key to his office, and I just wanna give him a little gift. Isn’t that ok?” You pouted your lips, and he stirred in his chair uncomfortably.

“He’ll kill me if I let you have the key. Especially you…”

“What do you mean, Especially me? Michael loves me.”

Mutt laughed but shut his mouth when you raised an eyebrow at him.

“I promise I’ll bring it right back, please…” You batted your eyelashes at him. He sighed and reached into a drawer in his desk and produced a small golden key.

“Thank you!” You hopped off the desk and grabbed the key, a smile of satisfaction on your face.

You made your way to Michael’s office, knowing around this time he was usually away from his desk. You didn’t actually have a gift for him, or any plans really of what you were going to do once you actually got into his office, but you did know he would absolutely hate it if you went in there without his permission so that's exactly what you were planning on doing.

As you rounded the corner, you saw the man you were looking for doing exactly that. You watched discreetly as he shut the door to his office and walked off in the opposite direction. This was your moment.

You walked up quickly and as quietly as you possibly could with your heels, sliding the key into the lock and stepping into his empty office and shutting the door behind you.

His office wasn’t anything super special, it was modestly decorated with dark red walls and black furniture. It was bare of anything that was personal, which made it feel empty. Even you had a silly picture of you and Jeff on your desk, as much as you disliked him sometimes. It was kind of sad when you thought about it that he didn’t have anything personal decorating his office.

Walking over to the large black desk, you inspected it. It was covered in various stacks of paper and a silver laptop closed in the center.

“Well, this is boring… what can I play with?” You said to yourself. Bending over to inspect the drawers.  

You dug through every one, nothing special in them either. Until you came to one of bottom drawers. It was locked.

“Why would he lock his office and his drawers? You must be hiding something good in here….” You whispered as you pulled on the drawer, definitely locked.

Good thing you weren’t a good child. You dug around Michael's desk and found two paper clips, with a little bending and twisting, the lock clicked open.

Inside was a sleek black notebook. You pulled it out and stared at it, “is this his diary?” You laughed at the thought. Did the antichrist really keep a diary?

When you flipped it open you were silent. It was a photo album.

An older woman with greying blonde hair smiled in the photograph. Her floral print dress and hairdo made her look straight out of the 70s. She was holding a cigarette to her lips, and a glass of some kind of alcohol in her other hand. “Grandma” was written at the bottom of the photograph. This was his family? You didn’t even know the antichrist could have a real family. You knew from Jeff that they had built his ‘Mother for him’, but they didn’t necessarily say the women she was modeled after was his real mother. He called mead his “One true ally”, and the only person who never gave up on him.

As you flipped through the pages you saw images of a blonde toddler, with crystal blue eyes you’d recognize anywhere. They were pictures of a baby Michael. For some reason, Staring at the photos made you feel sad for him. If he had a real family, where were they? Why did they give up on him?

You didn’t have time to ponder the thought. While staring at the photographs, you didn’t notice the door to the office open. A furious looking Michael stood in the doorway.

“Michael I-” You were about to explain, but Michael dropped what he was holding and rushed up to you. He grabbed you by the throat with a dangerous strength, slamming you against the wall practically choking the life out of you.

You struggled against him, his fingers pressing so hard into your throat you couldn’t breathe, you choked and sputtered trying to get him to release you from his hold. You made eye contact with him, nothing but a burning rage stared back at you. You tried to grab at anything, his shirt, his face, his hair, but he only strengthened his grip on your throat. Was this how it was going to end?

Just as blackness started to ink your vision, Michael released you and you fell to the ground. Coughing and gasping as your lungs burned for air, you were barely conscious.

“What’s your plan (Y/N), you break into my office and go through my personal shit?” Michael grabbed your arm with a bruising grip and pulled you off the ground.

“I’m so fucking tired of you. Look at you, I could snap your neck right now and yet, I can smell the desperation coming from you.”

You stared up from him, unsure how to respond. He was painfully right. Michael had almost choked you unconscious, but the heat between your thighs was making itself present.

“You’re such a little slut,” He grabbed you by the jaw, making you look up at him. “I saw you bending yourself over that bowl cut coke heads desk. Is that how you got the key?”

“How did you see-” You tried to argue, his grip on your jaw tightened and he brought his other hand up, smacking your face with a force that made your vision blur.

“I didn’t say you could speak, slut.” He brought his hand up to your cheek again, smacking you so hard you knew that you wouldn’t leave without a very large bruise decorating your face. That’s if he let leave.

“And the way you dress…” He slid his ring-clad hand down your exposed collarbone and to the edge of your blouse, before ripping it open, the buttons flying off and falling to the ground. “Michael!” You yelled, Michael smiled a wicked smile, “I always knew you loved to be punished, (Y/N), but I didn’t think you’d go this far.” He spun his chair around, sitting in it gracefully before pulling you over. He forcefully bent you over his knees, so you were laying on your stomach across him and the chair. Your already short skirt was now barely covering your soaking core.

Michael ran his fingers along the back on your thighs, you felt yourself shiver at his touch.

“Bad girls get punished…” He whispered, his voice was deep and filled with lust.

He pushed your skirt up revealing the thin lace thong you had decided to wear, the red fabric matched your shirt almost perfectly. He ran his hand along your exposed ass, goosebumps raising on your skin as he brought his hand up, bringing it down with a loud smack.

You cried out, Michael was spanking you. You gripped the edges of the chair, part of you wanted to leave, roll off his lap and escape his office and never look back. A bigger part of you was enjoying it.

He spanked you again, at this rate your whole body would be decorated with Michael’s handprint. His fingers pushed your panties to the side and he slid a finger against your dripping wetness.

“You really are soaked…” He growled, slipping a finger inside you in one quick motion that made you moan out loud. Just as quickly as he touched you, he pulled away. You strained your neck to look over your shoulder as he did, watching him bring his finger to his lips and taste you.

He ran his hand over your ass again, you felt the stinging from his smacks quell with the touch of his warm palm. “I shouldn’t pleasure you… after all, you don't deserve it, but you’d enjoy anything I did to you, Wouldn’t you (Y/N)?” He brought his hand down on your ass again. “Say it. Say that you’d enjoy anything I’d do to you, little slut.”

“I-I’d enjoy anything… Please,” You moaned out, feeling Michael’s long fingers tease at your aching clit.

“Say my name, (Y/N).” He ordered.

“Please Michael!” He slid two fingers inside of you at your words, making you moan as you spoke.

Michael’s fingers worked like magic inside you. You couldn’t hold back your moans as he fingered you over his lap, curving them ever so slightly hitting that spot perfectly inside you. His thumb occasionally brushing over your aching clit, sending you closer and closer to the edge.

“Are you going to cum (Y/N)? Cum right on my fingers like the whore you are?”

“Yes, Michael… Please,”

“Please what?” He stopped moving and it made you cry out. “Please make me cum Michael!” You begged, he obliged. He increased the pace of his fingers inside of you, making you reach your peak quickly, you moaned his name loudly as you finally came, barely being able to catch your breath.

He reached over and placed his fingers into your open mouth, making you suck them clean. Now that his fingers weren’t inside of you, you finally realized you could feel the bulge of his cock beneath you, straining against the fabric of his pants and pressing against your lower belly. You were still extremely turned on despite your orgasm, and you wanted nothing more than to grind yourself against his cock until he let you come undone.

“Stand up,” Michael ordered, you quickly stood up in front of him, trying to pull your skirt down but he grabbed your wrist to stop you. “I’m not done with you, It’s my turn now.”

He stood up, towering above you as he looked down on you, watching you as your eyes dragged over his form. Even clothed, he was exquisite. “Get on your knees.” He ordered. You dropped immediately making him smile down at you.

“At least you’re good at something.” he ran his fingers through your hair, you stared up at him and he nodded, urging you on.

You ran your fingers over the soft leather of the belt, before unhooking it and sliding it off. Next came the buttons and the zipper, finally reaching in the fabric of his silk boxers and pulling out his heavy dripping cock. He was already fully hard, and you gulped at the sight of it. He was absolutely massive, because of course he was.

You tasted the tip of his cock, savoring the salty flavor of his precum as you licked the sensitive head. Michael groaned above you, his fingers gripping your hair tighter. You put your lips around him and sucked, running your tongue over him generously as you began to take him in your mouth, Michael encouraged you with moans of his own. You brought your hand up and stroked him as you sucked, suppressing your gag reflex to try and take as much of him as you could, which was almost impossible considering his size.

“You’re a good little slut, aren’t you? Sucking my cock like its the last thing you’ll ever taste…” Michael purred, “And it might be after I'm done with you.”

Your stomach sank a little at his threat, but you continued with your movements on his cock. If this was going to be the last thing you ever did, you were going to make sure you fucking enjoyed it.

You placed your hands on his muscular thighs and pushed out your tongue so he could fully press his cock into your mouth, Michael seemed to get the message and put his hands on the back of your head and pressed his cock deep into your throat. You felt saliva dripping down your chin as he began to fuck your mouth, his fingers pulling hard at your hair as you let him have his way with you.

His cock was brushing the back of your throat, making you choke and grip his thighs harder. He responded with speeding up his pace, the feeling of his cock pushing into your throat was like nothing you had ever experienced before. You prepared yourself, thinking that at this pace he was going to cum soon. As he ravaged your throat, you realized you were wrong.

Michael suddenly let go of your hair and pulled his cock from your lips, a string of saliva connecting the head to your lips for a moment as you caught your breath.

Michael waved his hand and made you stand upright, against your own will. You felt your body vibrate, he had used his magic on you. For some reason, the thought turned you on even more, if that was possible. Michael then made a sweeping motion, the stuff flying off his deck, minus his laptop. “Lay back.” He spoke, you nodded and hopped up on the edge of his desk, you could feel your wetness practically dripping out of you at this point. You laid back at his command, and Michael stepped between your legs. He traced his fingers over your panties again before literally ripping them off of you.

“Michael!” You yelled, was he going to destroy all of your clothes? “You won’t be needing them anymore.” He answered simply.

His fingers slid against your wet lips and he pressed against your clit again. “So wet, so needy… You’ve always wanted his, haven’t you? You’ve dreamt about all the ways you wished I’d fuck you?” He pressed harder, making your legs shake and you cry out his name.

“Tell me how much you want me, how much you want me to fill up your sweet little cunt with my cock.”

“Please fuck me, Michael,” You found yourself begging, “I want you so badly… I-I’ve always-” He slammed the full length of his cock into your awaiting entrance, making you gasp in pleasure. His size and thickness made it almost painful, but the pain was the last thing you cared about.

Michael took one of your legs and bent it forward so he could fuck you deeper, and with his other hand, he snapped off your bra and tossed it onto the floor. His hand kneading your breast as he slowly began to fuck you.

“This is what you were made for,” Michael breathed, increasing the pace of his thrusts. “Made to take my cock like the slut you are.”

“I was made for you…” You moaned out, Michael smirked and wrapped his hand around your bruised throat. “That’s right (Y/N). I want you to feel the pain of this when I’m done with you.” He pressed his hand harder into your throat making you see stars as he fucked you long and hard. His cock pounding into you repeatedly as he held you down.

Following up on his words, he released your throat and smacked your face again, making you cry out in pain. He pressed his cock into you deeper at your cries, leaning forward and pressing his long fingers into your mouth. He pressed his fingers on your tongue and you sucked them greedily, enjoying the taste of his skin. He took his fingers out and pressed them to your clit again, making you moan “Michael, Fuck…”

“Scream it, I want everyone to know how good I'm fucking you.” He increased his pace with his fingers and his cock sending you into overdrive, You screamed his name multiple times until you were hoarse in the throat.

A white-hot heat burned inside your lower regions as he continued, you knew you wouldn’t be able to hold yourself back much longer. “Michael,” You panted, “I-I’m going to… I’m gonna cum!”

“Good. Cum around my cock slut, I wanna feel you.” He groaned, triggering your release as you finally came, feeling your tight walls squeeze around his cock as he continued his relentless pace. Michael pulled out of you unexpectedly, making you whine at the feeling.

“Get back on your knees,” He ordered, you followed his order with shaking legs, falling to your knees in front of him, His cock was dripping with your creamy fluid as he stroked it with his hand. It was truly a sight to behold.

“Beg me to cum in your mouth slut, I want to hear how badly you want my cum down your throat.”

You put your hands on your knees and looking up at him, his eyes clouded with lust as he stared down at you on your knees in front of him, stroking his massive length and licking his lips.

“Please Michael, Cum in my mouth,” You begged sincerely, “I want to taste you so bad…” You practically moaned the last words and he pushed his cock back into our mouth. The taste of his cock mixed with your wetness was intoxicating. He pressed his cock as deep as he could in your throat with one thrust as he released his thick cum.

The taste and feeling were indescribable as his cock pulsed into your mouth, releasing ropes of the sticky cum down your throat which you swallowed. When he finally pulled his cock from your lips, he was softening.

Michael laughed, making you look at him in confusion. “Have you learned your lesson? Or are you going to continue to disobey me until I fuck you again?”

You licked your lips at the thought, if this was your punishment, you definitely weren’t planning on stopping.  

He waved his hand again and stood you up, pulling your face to his and pressing his lips to yours. His tongue slipped inside your mouth, tasting himself as he kissed you deeply. He ran his fingers on the bruises forming on your skin, breaking from the kiss to smile as his handiwork.

“Maybe I’ll keep you around for a little while longer.”

___________________________________________________

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[flyingcookierambles]

hguroahgouahrgo try infinite dendro im bEGGING

i keep seeing ppl be like "infinite dendro is just another sao" bc the anime came out and altho i havent watched the anime yet, since im on vol 3 rn, im like sobbing in my corner like no plz at least have the decency to compare it to log horizon or something. sao is like. dumb power fantasy. edgy loner wolf dude. log horizon was like. actual mmo stats and game mechanics! teamwork! guilds of mmo players and npcs working together! a real world where you can build things!!! log horizon is/was so gooooddd (;_;)

and like. infinite dendro's whole appeal is the ability to be a fantasy life where you can create things. and growth and stuff that's represented by your embryos. and like late spoilers but in log horizon they learned that to make actual good food you need to actually cook and not go thru the menu like you're just playing a video game. they worked their way up to making an actual working steamboat and then had this whole political arc w/ the npcs in a nearby country abt like. rights and economic trade and stuff. and like.

slight spoilers for volume 2 and 3, but in infinite dendro the country of dryfe is populated by artists and tradesmen players. like. ppl that are engineering students irl literally got together in guilds and made working mechas in the game. theres apparently a manga godframe grandmarshall that was made by a player in-game w/ a Painter/artist job skills. theres geopolitics that happen between the different countries and wars and histories and stuff. its a slower light novel than other mainstream vrmmo/isekai stories, but the world building is so good. arrrrrrghghghg

also im like so confused by comments (maybe not in tumblr specifically, but i’ve seen them on kitsu and twitter) that are like. "this game'll never work since players would just kill all the npcs and stuff bc npc permadeath" and im just like??? am i the only person to treat npcs in skyrim and stuff decently? geez whats wrong w/ you ppl? try? not killing?

sorry for the rando rant about this isekai video game anime lol but like srsly im so annoyed by ppl who judge an entire franchise by like 1 or 2 episodes of a show that's like. what. 12 or 15 episodes?? uuuuuuuuuuuuu YOU’VE ONLY SEEN LIKE WHAT. 30 MINUTES TO ABOUT AN HOUR OR SO OF THIS 11 NOVEL SERIES? THAT’S ON GOING??? HOW CAN YOU JUDGE IT SO EASILY, ESPECIALLY WHEN IT’S PRACTICALLY COMMON SENSE THAT BOOKS ARE BETTER THAN SCREEN ADAPTATIONS AND THERE’S A TON OF WORLD BUILDING AND EXPOSITION THAT BOOKS HAVE THE FREEDOM TO GO ON ABOUT IN SOME EXTRA PARAGRAPHS OR TWO THAT I’M SURE THAT ADAPTATIONS ALWAYS LEAVE OUT.

(whispers also high school me did actually read the sao light novels too when they were on like. baka tsuki in 2014. up to around half way thru alicization, years before the alicization arc’s novels were even officially in english. and like. they all revolved around how cool kirito was and like i dont really remember much about if they did do any world building, even in arcs where players could have even a fraction of the creative freedom that the log horizon/dendro games give their players, in like the first sao/aicrad arc. where you were supposed to have a real second life and stuff. and ppl got trapped there for 2 whole years. like. idk. liz's a swordsmith. asuna. has cooking skills?? meh not much else. it just went “let's not explore the game features or anything abt fun world building. instead have this emo loner high schooler. look at how cool he is.” bluhhh. at least ray's an average, well adjusted college dude who can work w/ others. shiroe's also a decent guy who's just really good at math and multitasking.

i think theres some sao side novels abt other players that were trapped in aincrad and like. that would be. so much more interesting. then kirito stuff. like. the whole orphanage for the kids who were playing sao and got trapped? average ppl who made livelihoods in 2 years like liz or agil who opened shops and just wanted to live their lives and stuff? like an anthology series abt players making. idk. therapy groups, publishing books to deal w/ their shit, and creative arts guilds, going abt their lives would be soooooo much more interesting to me world building-wise.

also, the geo-political stuff? afaik, it’s non existent in sao. maybe the closest that you can get is the uhhh. race wars? (yeah wow that’s actually really awful when you put it that way holy shit thanks sao abridged) that whole conflict in alo is maybe the closest you can get to fractions and guilds and stuff fighting. 

but log horizon? elder tale has the HALF Gaia project, where the game is literally just a scaled down version of earth w/ post apocalyptic ruins of the “modern world” thats why the whole akihabara thing exists. then, it created an actual history of npcs and their countries and empires and spawned them around the world. and then, to add to the npc’s geo-politics, we also have the players’ geo-politics in terms of servers. the main cast is in akihabara. iirc, the light novel ended w/ the akihabara players in an alliance w/ the npc country/federation/city state thing the eastern league of free cities. they’re in some war against other players from minami city. 

and then infinite dendrogram vol 3 comes in with this treat about geopolitics and world building that i’m sure that you would never see in sao:

(i’ve copy and pasted the text from the screenshots, and also some not from the screenshots for further context and put it on a seperate text post if you need it. click this -> https://flyingcookierambles.tumblr.com/post/190389803125/the-text-id-from-the-screenshots-if-you-need-it anyways this rant’s getting quite long so i’ll end it here)

but yeah. i’m sure that you would never see anything like this in sao, so seriously. please. IM BEGGING. GIVE INFINITE DENDROGRAM (the light novel at least) A TRY. IF YOU LIKE VRMMO/ISEKAI/FANTASY LIGHT NOVELS AND LOVE WORLD BUILDING, PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD DON’T JUST BRUSH IT OFF AS “OH, JUST ANOTHER SAO” OR “IT’S REALLY BORING” BECAUSE I WILL CRAWL INTO A CORNER AND FUCKING CRY IF I HAVE TO SEE ANOTHER COMMENT ABOUT THE DENDRO ANIME BEING COMPARED TO SAO. I SWEAR THIS WILL JUST TURN OUT TO BE ANOTHER CASE OF “THE BOOKS ARE BETTER THAN THE MOVIE” AND PLEASE DONT LUMP ALL VRMMO ANIME/MANGA/WHATEVER TOGETHER. I AM BEGGING YOU. AT LEAST HAVE THE DECENCY TO SAY SOMETHING LIKE “OH JUST ANOTHER VRMMO TRYING TO BE LOG HORIZON/MAOYUU/[SOMETHING THAT IS BETTER THAN SAO]”

[obsessedauthorchan-blog]

Tutor - OiSuga Weekend Day 2 - Different First Meeting AU

@ridzakun inspired this fic with some fantastic art that you can find here 

"You know, if you wanted to learn how to be better at volleyball, you could have just asked me, Takeru." Oikawa poked his nephew in the arm. "I am one of the best volleyball players, like, ever."

Takeru rolled his eyes. "You didn't volunteer as a volleyball tutor with my school."

"Yeah, but you could have just asked me instead of getting a tutor."

"I already told you, I didn't choose to have a tutor. He was assigned. It's a mentorship program. It's not my problem you didn't volunteer."

"But you didn't even tell me about the program! How was I supposed to know to volunteer?" Oikawa whined.

"Don't be a baby, Uncle Tooru." They were almost to the gym. "Besides, Sugawara-san knew about the program."

Oikawa stuck his tongue out at Takeru.

Takeru did it right back.

Not long after that they made it to the gym at Takeru's school. Despite his griping about not choosing to have a tutor for volleyball, Oikawa could tell the kid was excited about it. He clearly liked this 'Sugawara-san'. Takeru was almost vibrating with excitement when they got to the doors of the gym, which were open to allow airflow.

"SUGAWARA-SAN!" Takeru shouted, grabbing Oikawa's arm and using it for balance while jumping up and down in excitement. This, unfortunately, knocked Oikawa off balance, making him stumble a little. When he looked up, he finally saw Takeru's volleyball tutor.

Holy shit. Oikawa was so screwed.

Sugawara-san looked over when he heard Takeru's voice, which was when he noticed Oikawa. Oikawa felt his cheeks redden, knowing his first impression on this very attractive volleyball tutor was him stumbling at the tug of a middle schooler. They made brief eye-contact, before Sugawara-san looked back over at Takeru. "Ah, Takeru. You're just on time!"

Oh my God, his voice.

Oikawa was definitely screwed.

***

Oikawa picked up Takeru right on time. They were just finishing up a round of serves, which was apparently one of the areas where Takeru struggled. Takeru was poking Sugawara, apparently trying to goad him into doing something. “Come on, Suga-san! I want to see it again!”

“See what again?” Oikawa asked, making his presence known. Sugawara looked over at him with a borderline-plea in his eyes.

“Suga-san’s jump serve! He showed me earlier. It was sooo awesome!” Takeru was jumping up and down, turning back toward Sugawara to shoot him with puppy dog eyes. Those were hard to resist, Oikawa knew, because Oikawa was the one who taught it to him.

Oikawa raised an eyebrow. “Well, well, a jump serve?” Sugawara warily looked up at him from Takeru’s puppy dog eyes. “Let’s see it then.” Sugawara glared at him, but Oikawa only smiled.

Sugawara sighed, his shoulders sagging in resignation. Takeru cheered as Sugawara grabbed a ball from the basket. “It’s not actually that great,” Sugawara prefaced, already planning to disappoint.

“Are you kidding, Suga-san? You’re awesome!”

Sugawara shook his head. “By high school standards, my serves are pretty average, kiddo.”

Takeru rolled his eyes. “I doubt that.”

Sugawara smiled fondly. “Your uncle will confirm it for me after I’ve done it.” Sugawara looked over at Oikawa, still smiling. “Right, Oikawa-san?”

Oikawa shifted his weight, giving Sugawara a considering look with his hands in his pockets. “I’ll reserve my judgement till after the demonstration. For all I know, you’re some prodigy and I’ll have to eat my words.”

Snorting, Sugawara turned away from them and stepped up to the line. “I’m definitely no prodigy,” he said, and then he jumped and served the ball.

It had a beautiful arc, and it stayed in bounds for sure. Unfortunately, there wasn’t enough power for it to truly be difficult to receive.  Oikawa nodded. “I hate to break it to you, Takeru, but your tutor is right. That’s pretty average. Good technique, but average.”

Takeru rolled his eyes. “You do it then. You’re the one who said you were ‘the best volleyball player, like, ever.’” He used air quotes. And a squeaky voice. Rude.

“I said I was one of the best, not the best. Besides, Sugawara-san is probably tired from dealing with you. We shouldn’t inconvenience him.” Part of Oikawa really wanted to demonstrate his awesomeness, but a lot of people got defensive when somebody one-upped them, and Oikawa didn’t want to have to deal with that, especially not with his nephew’s tutor.

“Actually,” Sugawara cut in, “I don’t mind.” He tossed Oikawa a ball. “Show me what you’ve got.” Oikawa took all of 1.3 seconds to observe the smirk on his lips and the mirth in his eyes before deciding that yes, Oikawa was going to absolutely crush him.

“Well, don’t you like a challenge… How refreshing.” He walked over to the line and gave Sugawara a blinding grin. “Okay! But you asked for it. Step aside, Mr. Refreshing.”

Sugawara rolled his eyes, but he moved over to stand next to Takeru. Oikawa dribbled the ball a few times and spun it in his hands. He purposely dragged out the whole thing to build suspense. He looked over and saw that both Sugawara and Takeru looked pretty bored.

Perfect.

Oikawa tossed the ball, took a few steps, and jumped. He slammed his hand into the ball and less than a nano-second later it was pounding into the court on the other side of the net. Just inside the back line.

Perfect.

There was silence in the gym for a moment as Oikawa surveyed his handiwork and the others stared in awe. Then Oikawa let out a pleased sigh and turned to his nephew and Sugawara. “Well, that turned out pretty well, don’t you think?” The picture of nonchalance. As if he hadn’t practiced that a million and a half times for the last two years to get it right. As if he wasn’t lucky it was in bounds because half the time it ended up smacking against the back wall. No big deal or anything.

Sugawara blinked at him a couple times, his jaw hanging slightly. After a second he shook his head, as if trying to jar himself back into sentience. “Wow, that was…” Sugawara blinked again. “What position do you play?”

“Setter,” Oikawa said smoothly. “For Aoba Johsai.”

Sugawara nodded slowly. “I’m the setter for Karasuno…” The name sounded familiar to Oikawa, but he couldn’t quite place it. Wasn’t that a public school there in Miyagi?

Sugawara turned to Takeru. “Why exactly am I your tutor if your uncle is the setter for Seijoh?”

Takeru shrugged, still a little dazed. “Because you’re cool and he’s annoying.” Apparently even when he was dazed he was a little shit.

“Mean, Takeru! How am I annoying?”

Apparently, that snapped Takeru out of his state of awe. “Because you’re you! And you’re obsessed with aliens!”

“Iwa-chan is obsessed with Godzilla and you don’t make fun of him!”

“That’s because Iwaizumi-san is cool.”

Oikawa’s face went white. “Betrayal,” he whispered. “Don’t ever tell him that. Ever.”

Takeru giggled, and Oikawa could see Sugawara smiling out of the corner of his eye. “Go shower, Takeru,” Oikawa said. “You smell terrible.”

Takeru groaned in annoyance, but he did as he was told. Oikawa helped Sugawara collect all the volleyballs strewn around the gym. “Thanks for the help,” Sugawara said as they got the last of them.

“No problem, Mr. Refreshing.”

Sugawara rolled his eyes. “So is Iwaizumi your boyfriend?”

Oikawa gave him side-eye. “Iwa-chan?” He snorted. “Yeah, no. Definitely not.”

“Oh. I just thought that, you know, since you call him ‘Iwa-chan’…”

“No, he’s just a childhood friend.” Oikawa grinned. “Actually, I mostly call him that because it annoys him.”

“Oh.” Oikawa couldn’t tell what Sugawara’s expression meant. He couldn’t tell what that ‘oh’ meant, either.

“Yep.” Cue awkward silence. Yay.

Luckily Takeru bounded back into the room just then, hair still dripping from his shower. “Uncle Tooru, can we get ice cream on the way home?”

“Sure, kiddo,” Oikawa said, nodding as he walked over to the door of the gym to join his nephew.

“Thanks for the lesson, Suga-chan!” Takeru called over his shoulder. Oikawa looked back and saw Sugawara waving goodbye, a broad smile on his face.

Maybe Oikawa wouldn’t mind walking Takeru to volleyball lessons more often.

***

Okay, so apparently ‘more often’ was literally every single time.

He hadn’t necessarily planned to do it that often, but he couldn’t really help it. His sister would ask if he was going to help out and then he’d think of Sugawara’s smile and he would volunteer on the spot. Plus, his sister really did need the help. She’d been working overtime a lot, so having one less thing on her plate made a world of difference.

So Oikawa walked Takeru to tutoring twice a week. Half the time he stayed for the whole two hours so he wouldn’t have to go and come back. He started out in the corner doing homework or reading a sci-fi novel, but by the end of the session he was helping out in one way or another. Sometimes he just received balls to help Takeru get better at keeping a volley going. Sometimes he set the ball for Sugawara so he could show Takeru the proper technique – or vice versa.

Probably about half the time, Oikawa injected himself into the session. Correcting a technique, making a comment, or volunteering to help with a demonstration. Other times Sugawara basically dragged him into it. One time Oikawa had been doing his math homework and he got hit in the face with a stray ball, and that led him to correct Takeru’s receiving technique.

And nine times out of ten, at some point, it would be just him and Sugawara, Takeru having gone off to take a shower or buy ice cream or just about any other thing imaginable. It was usually Oikawa who sent him away, trying for some alone time with Sugawara to get to know him better. Oikawa loved those times. It was a little awkward at first, but then they grew pretty comfortable with each other. Oikawa would like to say that he considered Sugawara a sort of friend now, though he admitted he’d like to do some very not-friend-like things. Like making out. He really wanted to do that.

Today Sugawara was the one to send Takeru on an errand, giving him enough money to buy all three of them popsicles. Takeru happily ran off to make the purchase, leaving the two of them alone. Oikawa immediately set to picking up the strewn volleyballs, as was their usual practice when left alone. However, after Oikawa dumped the first armful in the basket, he turned around to be face to face with Sugawara.

He cocked an eyebrow. “What’s up, Mr. Refreshing? Not going to help?”

Sugawara rolled his eyes. “Are you going to ask me out or not?”

Oikawa’s eyes went wide, and he took a step backwards, his back hitting the volleyball cart. “What, uh- what do you mean, Sugawara-san?”

“I mean you spent an accumulative hour today looking at my butt and I’m tired of waiting for you to man up and ask me out. Are you going to or not?”

Oikawa blinked. He opened his mouth, said nothing, and closed it again. “I don’t-“

“Oh, for the love of all things volleyball,” Sugawara interrupted him, grabbing his shirt collar and pulling him in for a kiss.

Approximately three seconds later, they pulled apart. Oikawa knew he looked dazed, but he couldn’t really muster the energy to care about that at the moment. “Saturday.” Sugawara raised an eyebrow questioningly. “Are you free Saturday?”

Sugawara smiled. “In the afternoon. We have practice on Saturday mornings.”

Oikawa nodded, matching Sugawara’s smile. “Perfect. I’ll pick you up at 6.”

“Tooru, can you come help me? The popsicles are melting!”

The two of them jerked apart. Oikawa turned around, but Takeru wasn’t there. He was still outside the gym, unable to open the door with three melting popsicles in his hands. “Coming, Takeru!” Oikawa called back. He went to move, but Sugawara grabbed his hand.

“You can text me the details, yeah?” Sugawara was still smiling, but Oikawa could tell he was a little nervous. As if Oikawa was going to change his mind or something.

“Yeah, absolutely,” Oikawa said. He stepped in close and gave him a slow, sweet kiss. “I’ll steal your number from Takeru’s phone,” he said when they separated. Then he ran to let Takeru into the gym.

After they ate their popsicles and cleaned up the gym, the three of went outside, about to head in different directions to go home. “I’ll see you Saturday,” Sugawara called as he mounted his bike.

Oikawa’s grin was blinding. “Yeah, see you then!”

“What’s happening on Saturday?”

Oikawa looked down at Takeru with a smirk. “It’s a big kid thing. Volleyball stuff.”

“Oh,” Takeru’s interest was piqued. “Can I come?”

“Sorry, kiddo, high schoolers only.”

“I’m old enough!” Takeru crossed his arms indignantly.

“Not for this. You’ll get it when you’re my age, trust me.”

Takeru looked like he was going to complain again, but Oikawa cut him off. “Race you to the corner!” Then he took off, leaving Takeru in his dust.

[allheartnobrainandnoplans]

Warframe personalities from how I see them, by my first glance at them.

Heads up, this is a long post. Enjoy~!

Ash: Aloof mofo with a stabbing habit. could rob you of all your money in texas hold ‘em. Too much damn side eye. Kills everyone is the room, then breaks for coffee like nothing happened. Ninja who steals the last slice of cake from the fridge.

Atlas: would kick your ass then be your best bro. is dead inside? somewhat likely but can’t tell anymore. makes shitty jokes. I get he’s a one punch man stone golem, but c’mon, the guy gives pretty good hugs.

Banshee: Resting bitch face, but is sound sensitive so she has a reason. Most likely up to god knows what hours listening to music enjoying synethesia sensations. Knows a thing or two about where to find the best obscure books. Caring protective friend.

Chroma: Moody guy who just wants some fucking peace and quiet. Hoards things like trophies from kills, bet this guy has so many hunting trophies? ffs, his ult is a dragon pelt, might as well be a dragon! Really good at pissing off people without even trying.

Ember: Sassy friend wants all the tea. Best booty to boot. You see that guy over there? He’s on fire. She fucking murdered him with sick comebacks. Don’t get me wrong though, she might like her bacon crispy but she’s a pretty loyal friend. Probably would come get your ass for a revive with intent to raze the fucking field with wildfire.

Equinox: Calm balanced friend??? Has two sides she shows to different people, everyone who talks to her might find something different about her. Likes keeping a lot of houseplants in her room in the dojo. Courteous and polite and gives the best backhanded compliments under a pleasant facade.

Excalibur: Average Joe. Good at a lot but not the best, really doesn't give his best. Very athletic. rushes through missions impatiently. Might play too many hack’n’slash games in his spare time.

Frost: Stoic, quiet, probably has some thought going on at all times. Reads a lot of mythology from before the orokin era. Procrastinates and stalls for his buddies while holding down the fort. solid person to talk to if you need someone to listen.

Hydroid: The guy has enough mentions about tentacle porn, it’s safe to say he’s hoarding a hentai stash somewhere. or people assume. just a guy who loves the water, could talk for days about fish and where to find all the best seafood restaurants. has had enough people mentioning pirates around him. has a good, hearty laugh.

Inaros: Tired, always fucking tired. Sleep? I’ll sleep when I’m dead. if you can kill me, that is. Mmm. nom. Corpus tastes metallic. Grineer tastes like really bad slimy chicken. I’m not sharing what infested taste like. Shields? What the heck is that? Appreciates old architecture and hoards ayatan statues.

Ivara: Sneaky sneaky~ I got an arrow for just about any job. Just because i am a cyclops doesn’t mean i don’t have depth perception, dumbass. Carefree happy lady, fun to talk to. Makes lots of banter with teammates on missions.

Limbo: Trolls might love this guy, why doesn't he have a fedora helmet yet? I’ve not seen enough Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure to know what those references mean. He’s a real gentleman, very inquisitive. He’s a scientist? Aw, cool. Prolly spacing out while carousing through the rift, thinking about his next project.

Loki: The Cheeseframe is what people call him. Knows where all the loot is, all the time. Giggling and pulling pranks 24/7. Can do shit effortlessly and stares at his team wondering why the fuck the had to trigger the damn alarm in a mission. Also, hammerhead shark. This guys likes playing card games too.

Mag: In a state of calm and panic at the same time. Doesn’t show much though. Magnetic personality? Could crush your heart in a minute. Has a good taste in interior design, rather good at art deco/ industrial. Has some walls to get through before befriending her, but melts like a marshmellow when ya do.

Mesa: 360 no scope!!! It’s high noon! okay, now that’s out of the way, let’s keep going. Keeps an orderly schedule, off doing solo missions all the time. Loves a good movie, could talk about her favorite film for hours. Deserts are dry? So is her humor. Would shoot you without even thinking.

Mirage: You thought Loki’s pranks were bad? At least her enemies get these night mare shows and not you. This chick loves horror films, special effects make up and disco. Pretty good at good at lighting up the room and your smile. She really just wants a good time, okay?

Nekros: Sick mofo who tells dead baby jokes. Has some interesting kinks. Rarely eats, if ever. Would look you dead in the eye and try to tell you bad puns seriously as possible. Has seen the dead walk again, thinks they’re best buddies. good guy to go to a graveyard with.

Nezha: Srsly good looking.. guy? girl? oh idc he can be genderfluid and i’d still think he’s attractive. Got serious hula skills. Never takes himself seriously and just loves going for long missions. Knows a thing or two about culture, rather classy guy but can be a bit childish. Never really grew up, but you don’t notice that behind the charm.

Nidus: This is the I-don’t-give-a damn guy. He wrecks everything he touches, spreads space aids, yet his personality is far from cancer. Very good with animals. A bit messy. Too many damn things talking in his head from the infested and ignores them like a champ. They bend to his will.

Nova: A Good Egg, if slightly cracked. Giggles at the mention of inane words. Everything explodes!!! ADHD in a frame. Good natured wholesome friend who loves everyone. Bad habit of breaking appliances and electronics. Geiger counters near her start playing Imagine Dragon’s Radioactive?

Nyx: Look at this frame. You took a good warframe and gave it anxiety, sheesh. Shy, kinda hard to deal with hearing everyone’s thoughts sometimes. ain’t got time for your drama. Loves talking about current events, but not much of a gossip out of respect for others. giant personal space bubble, do not touch!

Oberon: Royal pain in the ass, but a lovable doofus so you kinda just let it go. Very protective dad friend, complete with dad jokes. Probably would like to finish your sandwich if you’re not gonna eat it. Would open his home to you if you needed a couch to surf on.

Octavia: This girl loves all music, could help you find just the mix you were looking for. Got sick dance moves too. Might have been in band. Would happily binge watch any tv show with you and discuss everything about it. You don’t know what so charming about her, but you really like her so you always accept her invites. Had a bad habit of fidgeting.

Rhino: This guy could bench press a grineer ship in one hand and corpus ship in the other. you don’t move out of his way, he runs you over, simple as that. gym rat, for sure. somewhat impatient. watches way too many superhero blockbusters and devours the comics. Mows down the entire enemy wave just get your sorry bleeding ass back up and fighting again.

Saryn: Oh, good lotus, this chick has got good looks and a deadly touch. Cunning girl could outsmart anyone. Low key annoyed in general. Would back stab you without a thought, given a reason. Knows a lot about cooking. I mean, if you’re going to poison someone or at least know how to work in the biolab you should probably know how this type of chemistry works. dodges responsibility a lot tho.

Titania: flighty as fuck, gets startled easily. graceful; she has good fashion sense. you have no idea where she came from in the room. fairy tales are definitely her thing, but happy endings really aren't true with that state of things right now in the solar system. too many butterflies, but is fine with it since they help her stay calm. Actually really good at flying archwings, I think?

Trinity: First one to rush into the fight, last one to leave until everyone is okay. Is the Mom friend. Likes to be helpful. Rather much a bitch to those she hates. She may have an open heart, but don’t walk all over this girl. Cross her once, shame on you. Cross her twice, she leaves you for dead on eris, end of story.

Valkyr: Look, she’s been through some shit, has ptsd, the very least you can do is give her a cat plushie and your support, okay? Gets angry easily and has meltdowns. She’s not a pushover. She knows what’s best, she can endure. semi serious, jokes fly over her head. it may take a bit for her to like you. literally a cat frame, you don’t know love until you've been loved by a cat.

Vauban: Forget Limbo being a troll. This is THE trollframe. Went to college for engineering, came back out a smart ass. Don’t loan money to him, he prolly won’t pay ya back. Pretty good drinking buddy tho. Reads a shit ton of shakespear to know what that sense of humor really is. Shit poster, meme hoarder extrordinaire. you can have a grenade! And you can have a grenade! YOU ALL CAN HAVE GRENADES!

Volt: Impeccable taste mixed with sharp commentary. Why does he have a helmet that’s a boob? maybe he has a high schooler’s sense of humor? would be honest with you and tell you straight up what needs to be done. This guy likes expensive suits. Has a tendency to be impulsive.

Wukong: Has loads of stories to tell. Good memory. Can comeback from just about any setback. determined and will happily grind with you in missions for hours. Also pretty damn stubborn and doesn’t listen well to others, kinda has to speak first.

Zephyr: Life’s a breeze here, right? Kinda goes with whatever and has a hard time deciding on things. Kinda clumsy too. Crashes raids and blows away the enemy. Usually minds her own business with her head in the clouds.