#six chaos peaked early

[redladydeath]

You know, for all the Six chaos we’ve had and will continue to have far into the future, it’s kind of a shame how we’ll never again reach the heights of absolute batshit insanity that was Toby Parrlow

[callsigns-haze]

Pretty like a crime

Chapter 7

Pairing: Agent Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Singlemom! Agent Y/n 'Cobra' Y/l/n

Summary: Cobra is finally back on the agency and is finally back in the job. With Kai at home she has to jumble being a mother and a agent. She's sent to her first U.C mission but never thought that she would meet a blonde, green eyed Texan...

Warning: Mentions of gun use, ptsd, mentions of death, mentions of shooting, flirting, mentions of abuse, description of dead body, death, blood, undercover work, alcohol use, smut, kissing

Prologue/ Part 1/ Part 2/Part 3/ Part 4/ Part 5/ Part 6

----------SIX MONTHS LATER-----------

Mornings were the most enjoyable portion of the day in your home. It was calm and tranquil, which was unusual for the couple given the chaos of raising Kai.

You and Jake enjoyed the morning since your new schedules meant you didn't have to worry about work or Kai, whom you loved deeply. Those few hours you may spend together and enjoy a tranquil time in each other's arms

It was early in the morning, with sunlight streaming through the windows, when you felt Jake's massive arms weight on your waist and his nose nuzzling against the nape of your neck.

"Good morning, love," he whispered in his scratchy morning voice, drawing you against his bare chest.

“Good morning… ooh I see our big friend is also joining us this morning” your lips curled into the famous Seresin smirk that Jake thought you while feeling his hard cock against your panty covered ass.

“Can't stop it when I'm sleeping next to a goddess ” he slid his hand under your night gown tugging against the rim of your panties to get access to your slick folds.

“Jakey, what are you doing?” you giggled as he slowly lowered you panties.

“Giving my goddess the affection her needy ass needs. It’s been a while since our last trip downtown ” he says in his morning rasp as he leaves butterfly kisses down the side of your neck.

"It's only seven a.m., and he won't be up until nine, I can tell you that," he pulls you in closer, pressing his hardon into your ass.

"But.." you protested, but your body had already given in to him, allowing him to take control.

He silenced you before sliding his fingers inside your moist and massaging your clit in a circular manner. You moaned as he placed light kisses on the nape of your neck. "Does that feel good, mama?" he teases against your ear, his fingers moist with your sticky as he takes his time pleasing you.

"Mmmhmm," you murmured gently, your body lighting up at his touch. He slips two fingers into your heat and draws circles on your swelling bud with his thumb. Your hand returned to run your fingers through his hair, taking a grip of it as you pulled your hips back as he continued to pump his fingers in and out of you at a regular rhythm, which felt nice but wasn't enough for you.

"Please, Jake, fuck…." you said in a frantic whisper. He had won you over, but he was destroying you.

"What do you need baby?" You can hear the sneer in his mocking tone. "I need you, I want you inside me," you said, as Jake quickly pushed you onto your back and removed your pants.

"Don't worry, sweetheart, I'll take care of you," he says, raising your nightdress above your head.

He bends down to savour your lips, gasping as your tongue swirls with his. He kisses your breast and swirls your peaks around his tongue. Your hand reaches down and pushes his boxers to release his member.

He continues to suck on your tits as you wrap your fingers around his thick shaft, giving him a few strokes before lining him up with your entrance. He slips in smoothly, sighing quietly as his long, thick length fills your tightness.

"Fuck, darling" Jake murmured quietly into your ear, moving his hips into yours slowly and forcefully, making you tremble. His body was wonderfully moulded to yours. You tightened your legs around his hips, bringing him closer as he drove further into you.

"Fuck, Jakey, so close, oh!" you groaned, falling back as you achieved your peak. Jake was near as well, increasing up his tempo as your walls pulsated with the sensation of your high, making him chuckle at how you squirmed beneath him. You were both so caught up in each other's delight that you didn't notice your bedroom door was open.

"Mommy, Jakey?" Your son's tiny voice appears from thin air as you and Jake quickly pull up the covers for a bit of cleavage. Your little son is standing in your door frame, leaning a bit forward as Jake asks him what's up.

"I'm hungry…" Him and Jake have been getting along amazingly for the past few months but yet you still can't get over how shy your son manages to get at times. Jake knows how shy and antisocial Kai can truly get and says.

"Hey bud, give me a minute and I'll be down in the kitchen okay?" Kai to that, full of energy nods his head and runs off down the halls as you where about to get up but Jake quickly pushes you down and gets on top of you, kissing down your neck.

"I'll go take care off him, you rest, I bet I tired you out." He plants one more kiss on your lips and gets up grabbing some underwear and sweatpants beside the bed. "Jake you don't hav-" you've said that line already and many times before, and stops you in your tracks as he grabs a t-shirt and leaves the bedroom to take care of your son.

You lie down on the sofa mattress while staring up at the ceiling, wondering how you got so lucky. You've fallen for an agent that cares for you and your son and protects you no matter what. He cares for your son and how the young boy is doing. Overall he's just a gentleman.

You slowly rise out of bed, picking up your cleavage and pyjamas at the side. You slip on the top and bottom, swiftly walking over to the table where your phone starts to vibrate. You don't hesitate to pick up the phone even though it's an unknown number.

"Hello?"

"Hello Madame Chevalier."

Current taglist:

@callsign-magnolia

@shanimallina87

@callsign-dexter

@rosiahills22

@horseslovers2016

@djs8891

@hookslove1592

@emma8895eb

@hardballoonlove

@kmc1989

@dempy

@mamachasesmayhem

@senawashere

@emma8895eb

@buckysteveloki-me

@sweetwhispersofchaos

@a-beaverhausen

@itsmytimetoodream

[loverhymeswith]

I am thinking of a fic with Tommy to “the lakes” by Taylor Swift. Maybe the reader is trying to escape the criminal lifestyle, and essentially is begging Tommy to come away with her to live in the country away from all the danger… But he just can’t seem to let go. There’s a sort of comfort in the chaos for him. Lots of angst I think.

Calamitous Love

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x F!Reader

Summary: Enough is enough. You present Tommy with an ultimatum.

Word Count: 1.4K

Warnings: Pure angst, swearing

A/N: Thank you for the request, Anon. This was heavily inspired by season six. Thank you @a-reader-and-a-writer for the beta ❤️

In the early hours of the morning, you watch him leave.

Dense fog shrouds the grounds of the Arrow House estate, but amidst the dull, muted grey, the pitch black stallion is a dark silhouette, harsh hooves crunching over the gravel as it gallops along the length of the driveway and beyond, towards the rolling Warwickshire hills.

With a heavy heart, you relinquish your vigil at the window, the linen curtains falling back into place as you sweep across the bedroom, concern quickening your pace.

Like the consumption currently ravaging the nation, sleep’s reluctance to claim your husband is contagious, his torment and madness spreading through the cursed house and infecting all those in its path.

You’d fought again, this evening. The same old story. How much more was he prepared to lose before enough was enough? Couldn’t he just rest?

But these days, getting a sensible response out of Thomas Shelby is akin to drawing blood from stone. 

You dress in darkness. Riding boots and a woollen coat to protect you from the autumn chill. Silent footsteps along the hallway and whispered words through Frances’ door; a harried plea for her to watch over the children. It pains you to leave them, but - one way or another - this will be the last time.

It’s quiet outside as dawn prepares to break over the crest of the hills; a stillness in the air, charged and expectant, even beyond the blanket of fog. The stable boys won’t report for duty for another hour, but you can saddle your own horse or better still, ride bareback. Years of banquets and ballrooms haven’t yet turned you soft. 

You take the white mare; the gentle creature is your favourite. Beneath her calm exterior, there’s a wildness threatening to escape. Her pace might be no match for Thomas’ horse, but she’s a kindred spirit, requiring no instruction as she breaks into a gallop and follows in the black stallion’s wake. 

The wind whips your face as you ride across the foothills and dales, mist and drizzle plastering strands of damp hair to your brow. Tears stream down your burning cheeks as you clutch the reins tightly. When was the last time you felt so alive? So free?

It was long before politics. Before the Italians and the Irish. Before bookmaking and Billy Kimber. Before the war.

Before death had set up camp outside your front door.

The sun has risen by the time you reach him, rays of watery light escaping through the silver haze. Perched atop the rocky outcropping, your husband is a lone figure, surveying his kingdom from the mountain peak. You know why he came here: isolation; solitude; remorse.

As soon as you dismount, your mare trots off in search of the stallion. She has no desire to bear witness to this conversation. Sensible girl. 

White smoke curls around Tommy’s head as you approach, his grey cap is discarded on the rock face along with a handful of spent cigarettes. The subtle shift of his shoulders is the only indication he is aware of your presence.

The words, well-rehearsed despite your fervent reluctance to speak them over the last ten years, catch in your throat, but you can put this off no longer. It’s now or never.

“I’m leaving, Thomas.” Your voice breaks, just as you knew it would, each bitter syllable burning your tongue.

Any sense of relief you hoped to feel is unforthcoming; the ever-present tightness in your chest remains. You’re not sure what you expected… something rather than nothing. Tangible evidence of the weight of your words. But perhaps, like the consequences of a vengeful curse, patience is in order.

Tommy stubs out his cigarette but makes no move to turn around. Maybe you should have been brave enough to face him while you spoke, but it’s easier this way. Those blue eyes get you every damn time.

“You came all the way out here just to tell me that, eh?” 

His tone is entirely devoid of emotion, just as it has been for the last seven months. Even when you fight, he doesn’t get angry anymore. Once upon a time he would trade you, blow for blow. Now, he simply walks away.

“You can’t shut the door on me out here.”

Slowly, as if it’s causing him great pain to do so, Tommy looks over his shoulder. His cold stare is as lifeless as his words. “What do you want me to say? Sounds like your mind's made up.”

You didn’t come here for an argument. The fight finally left you last night when he didn’t follow you to bed. Instead of arming yourself with more words, as ineffectual as the weapons that have tried to kill him over the years, you slip out of your boots and pad barefoot across the wet grass. 

Kneeling on the ground before him, you take his face between your hands, his skin as chilled as your own. You force yourself to look at him. To really see him. Glacial eyes, rung by dark shadows, have lost their sparkle; his cheeks are sharper, his chapped lips drawn tight and his strong brow furrowed. A shade of the man you once knew. 

“What happened to you, my love?”

Tommy looks away, freeing himself from your touch, and you force yourself to ride out the heart-stopping wave of hurt alone. You both know the answer. Some things don’t need to be spoken out loud.

“I’m leaving,” you repeat, more softly this time, reaching for his hands, “but I don’t want to go without you.”

The truth hangs heavy in the air between you. And it is the truth. Despite the constant pain… despite the insurmountable grief that his actions have wrought, you still want him. You can’t bear to imagine life without him; Thomas Shelby, your calamitous love.

Tommy allows you to lace his fingers together with your own. He has the courtesy, at least, to meet your gaze when he responds.

“There is business.”

You squeeze his hand. “Fuck business. I don't belong here Tommy, and neither do you.”

“You think I don’t know that, eh?” A cocktail of sorrow and anger spills through the cracks in his words. “You think I don’t hear that every minute of every day? The workers say I’ve betrayed them. The rich will never accept me as one of their own.”

“Since when did Tommy Shelby ever feel the need to fit in?”

With your free hand, you stroke his cheek. His eyes shutter as he leans into your touch, his warm breath visible as he exhales into the frigid air. “I’m trying to make a difference.”

“Is changing the world really worth risking your family?” 

You don’t wait for him to answer. Your knees are straining against the cold ground and you climb into his lap instead, surprised when he doesn’t resist. It’s been too long since he held you this close and you welcome the warmth of his arms as they wrap around your waist.

“I’m not cut out for this. For any of it,” you tell him calmly as he tucks you beneath his chin. “I’ve stood by your side through all of it. I thought I could handle whatever they had to throw at us. The vendettas, the Russians. We’ve survived so much. But I don’t want to just survive anymore, Tommy. I want to live.”

You feel the weight of his lips as he kisses your head. “I need time. Just a bit longer, eh. And then it will all be over. I promise.”

You’ve heard it all before and God, how you wish you could believe him. You’ve no doubt he means it, and maybe it is the truth. Maybe this time, it will stick. 

“But at what cost?” You wonder aloud. Because Tommy knows as well as you do that there’s always a price. A payment demanded in blood. 

Shelby blood.

“If you want to leave, I won’t stop you.”

You untangle yourself from his embrace, all the better to face him. You need to be brave enough now. You need him to understand.

“I know you think you have no limitations. Maybe you don’t. Maybe they’re right about you, after all. Maybe you are a god, or the devil himself, Tommy Shelby. But I can’t stand by and wait around to find out.”

After you’ve allowed your words to sink in, you press your lips - now unburdened - to Tommy’s.  Recognition, realisation, flashes across his face - this is one battle he will never win. Hands fisting in your hair, he pulls you closer, sealing your goodbye with a feverish kiss. 

When you eventually ride back through the valleys and mountains, you are alone.

Tommy Taglist: @a-reader-and-a-writer @crysxtal @simpforbuckyb @shynovelist @amberpanda99 @globetrotter28 @iammrsrogers @dragonsondragons @butterfly-lover @sunshineyourethebesttime @iwantmyredvelvetcupcake @breezy2and2freezy @fia-thefirst @dreamy-caramel @trixie23

[the---hermit]

19|02|2024

I am once again here to complain about being exhausted. My motivation is still nowhere to be seen. When I was in class today it was okay, this professor is enjoyable to listen to (though I fear my notes will be chaos because she has the terribke tendency of jumping from one subject to another), but the mental and physical effort of getting up super early and commute is really a lot now. Moreover I should be trying to recover from my burnout but I don't feel like I am. I am also struggling a bit with anxiety and feeling guilty about not studying at the moment (aside from going to lectures I haven't done anything since my last exam at the beginning of the month). I think that writing down a brain dump of my to dos will help with these feelings, so that shall be my only goal for tomorrow. To finish my complaining fest this morning I woke up with a sore throath, again. I don't know what it is with my health in the past six months or so but I am weak as fuck. I started to take supplements again, so hopefully that will help me a little bit with getting back on my feet. Since I don't want this to be solely a complaint post here are some happy things of the day: I managed to read quite a bit at the bus stop and during my commute, I worked in the afternoon so I stayed active and I got a bit of money that I want to use to get a graphic novel since I have been in the mood for one lately, cuddles with my blåhaj while listening to the books unbound podcast, which is peak relax time for me.

Calm hobbit winter activities and productivity:

4.40 morning routine

2 hour history of Sabaudian states lecture

Read Notes On Camp by Susan Sontag (and loved it!)

Daily Irish practice on duolingo

Did a tarot reading for a friend

Worked in the afternoon

Prepared everything I could to make life easier tomorrow morning

Took my supplements

Relaxing time for my brain with bookish podcast

[randomvarious]

Today's compilation:

Points in Time 005 1999 Drum n Bass

Excellent slate of mid-to-late 90s drum n bass and jungle bangers here that was put out by the LTJ Bukem-run Good Looking Records, the long-time premier label for all of that soul-soothingly atmospheric and 'intelligent' stuff. Here we have the fifth installment in their Points in Time series, something that appeared to have been launched in order to regularly remind folks about all the serious heat from GL's past that should *never* be forgotten.

But It looks like this release in particular was issued in two different formats. One is a double-disc that includes a DJ mix by Tayla—who himself is a producer and DJ that got his start on Good Looking back in 1993—and the other is a triple-12-inch that includes six of the nine songs that are also on the CD version's first disc. And the one that I happened to listen to for today's post is the triple-12-inch.

So, ultimately, I seriously dig almost all of these tracks, but I think the two most essential listens here are undoubtedly London duo Blu Mar Ten's "Futureproof" and early drum n bass pioneer The Invisible Man's lengthy "Stormfields."

"Futureproof," originally off of Blu Mar Ten's first release on Good Looking in 1997, is legitimately one of the greatest pieces of jungle that I think I've ever heard in my life, and is probably peak material for this whole atmospheric style writ large. There's just something that's so extra special about a certain type of song that can paradoxically transmit both a feeling of calm and chaos at the same time, and this is a track that manages to pull it off wonderfully, with its "Amen" breaks furiously chugging along within a meticulously crafted framework of vast outer-space ambience and saucy touches of smooth jazz sax. Just such an unbelievably breathtaking and satisfying all-time stunner as far as I'm concerned 😌.

And then "Stormfields" is this near-11-minute, cinematically chill journey of sorts that's also on an outer-spacey tip from 1997. It encases its increasingly complex drum and bass parts in cheery pecks and splotches of bloopy acid, as light guitar synths pluck from behind on top of thin and squealy string pads. A really wondrous pupil-dilator to repeatedly zone out to and lose yourself within 👍.

So some pretty incredible feats of drum n bass and jungle magic on this one. Really wouldn't expect anything less from Good Looking, though, because they seriously do tend to be that consistently amazing 🤩.

Highlights:

Blu Mar Ten - "Futureproof" LTJ Bukem - "Music" The Invisible Man - "Stormfields" Q Project - "The Instrumental" Axis - "Dusted"

[knuckie-head]

☼

The Garden of the Hero.

Scourge always liked to visit this place every once in a while. Its greenery was rich, the air was pure, and he’d tend to the Chao migrating around the area for a good while, only to dash off minutes later before anyone could see him.

He doesn’t do that anymore since the whole ‘knocking on Miles’s door for the wifi password’ incident.

It’s still worthwhile to visit, though. Blue’s statue held such a unique history to him. The words engraved on the stone told a discrete summary of the Hero of Mobius and Scourge couldn’t help but be enchanted.

It was about Six in the morning. The stars still blinked bright in the ebony sky, the moon in a thin crest.

Why was he here so early in the morning? In all honesty, the place was oddly comforting to him. Plus, he wasn’t able to sleep, and neither was the fox.

He’d follow the smooth path that trailed to the hero’s garden, his hands tucked into his jacket’s pockets. He made sure to kick at a stone or two ahead of him since paying attention wasn’t necessary for a trip like this.

He knew the trail by heart.

The pond surrounding the old statue glowed like a teal diamond. It illuminated the majority of the trees and brush surrounding it, along with the statue and himself as he finally arrived.

Scourge lifted his eyes and stopped walking, raising a brow as a figure kneeled right at the edge of the pool. Its luminescent blue mixed in shades of turquoise, and its crimson red fur was hued purple. He wasn’t expecting to see ‘em here of all places.

Scourge cleared his throat, and the being turned its head to look at him from over its shoulder.

Blue eyes met green ones as they connected, and they both acknowledged each others presence.

“What are you doing so far from home?” The green hedgehog said as he strolled over next to the deity, taking a seat besides it.

Chaos Knuckles, as it was called, thought in silence, before turning to face the water.

“ I am awaiting an old friend. ”

Said words echoed in Scourge’s mind, which made his fur bristle.

“Give me a warning next time ya do that,” He’d mutter, flattening the hairs on his arms, before he himself focused on the pond. The waterfall disturbed the calm waters, forming ripples and making the spring glisten.

“Waiting for an old friend? At this time?”

“ Yes. ” Chaos Knuckles would nod. “ He rises to begin anew. ”

…well that was a bit cryptic.

“Begin anew?”

“ Yes. ” It’d nod once more, before looking towards the sky. The crescent moon hung above them. Scourge would follow after it.

“…the sun?”

“ He is the embodiment of it. ”

He?

Oh. Nevermind.

He had connected the dots, and he allowed himself to look at Sonic’s statue, taking notice of the moss growing over his stone hands.

Chaos Knuckles chuffs, eyes squinting in what seemed to be annoyance. The large beast, would too, dawn his sight upon the build.

“…how often do you visit?”

“ I watch the sun from Angel Island. ” Another echo. “ But there was a sense of dread we couldn’t shake. ” Scourge needs to ask Miles about the whole ‘we’ and ‘I’ thing, because good lord was it confusing him. Was this Knuckles? Or was this Chaos? Are they really a new entity now? Just one person?

“I guess he does represent the sun.”

“ He arrived as one, and he died as one. ”

And now his interest was peaked.

“How did he die?”

Chaos Knuckles lowered his snout to give him a look, but it softened once it realized Scourge was genuine. It would chuff from its nostrils and turn back to the water. Scourge followed after.

“ An unfortunate turn of events lead him to turn super. ” It began. “ The Chaos Emeralds met him once more, delivering the gift of life in their palms. ”

It’d bask in silence, its head turning to make sure Scourge was listening, which he was.

“ …but he simply refused. ”

Refused?

Scourge’s eyes widened, the realization dawning upon him, fur bristling.

Sonic had left out of choice.

“…so he had the option to,”

“ What good is a world that goes on forever. ” Chaos Knuckles mutters.

The two drown in silence— one letting the shock settle in, and the other, out of his frustrations.

He hasn’t met the Chaos Emeralds like that before. He knew they were sentient to an

extent, but learning that they could speak? Maybe it shouldn't be much of a surprise. 300 Years of being on this planet and you see some weird shit. But it still had him thinking…

“ If only I had more time, ” …Knuckles breathed out, furrowing his brows. “ If only I had done something to stop him. ”

His voice. It no longer sounded like one of a god. It was pure, it shook, and it cracked as the echidna tensed.

“ He didn’t even say goodbye. ”

Scourge didn��t know if the gloss over his eyes were because of the ellumimesent pond or out of the overwhelming emotions resurfacing after so long.

Scourge felt himself wavering as Chaos… as Knuckles closed his eyes tight and bowed his head. He himself could feel a faint burn in his nose, and he mentally cursed himself for getting so soft over the centuries.

And so, he’d place a hand on Knuckles’s arm, feeling as the deity tensed, and then relaxed.

Both of them let the silence whisk away their thoughts as they await Mobius’s hero to rise and start a new day.

☼

[sea-owl]

So this is similar to my spouses' time travel au but instead of just them remembering the Bridgertons also remember and of course they got no chill. It's not officially part of the au, I just want to make myself giggle with a what if.

Anthony Bridgerton had woken up alone in his bed in the Bridgerton House. He was confused at first because usually he would wake up beside his beautiful wife, but there were times she had early meetings to get to. Was today one of those days? She must have left a while ago because her side of the bed was cold. Who was his wife-

Five screams tore Anthony out of his thoughts and had him darting out of his bed. None of those screams sounded anything like his children so who-?

Seven doors were thrown open at the same time and Anthony was faced with five of his much younger looking siblings and their mother, who looked like the other shoe finally dropped. 

What were his siblings doing in his house? Don’t they all have their own homes and families to bother? And how the hell do they all look so much younger? If Anthony didn’t know any better, he would say they were at ages when Daphne had her first season. All of them copied Anthony’s look of suspicion.  And where was Kate? Is she part of this elaborate prank? Were his other in-laws involved too? 

Before any of the siblings could start blaming one another Violet calls a family meeting in the drawing room. Her six oldest children following behind her. 

“First tell me what was the last thing you all remember?” Violet asked as they all settled in. 

The answer was the same among the six siblings, Gregory’s wedding and them welcoming Lucy to the family. 

Violet nodded. “At least you all came from the same time.”

“Mother what are you talking about?” Anthony asked.

Violet sighed, bracing herself. “The year is no longer 1827, it is now 1813, the season will be starting again in a few months.”

The six siblings sat stunned, all of them staring at their mother. Daphne was the one to break the silence, her voice sounding scared. “Mother this is not funny. Please whatever elaborate prank our spouses or Gregory and Hyacinth are pulling it must stop.” 

Before Violet could say anything else the arguing voices of a twelve year old Gregory and a ten year old Hyacinth fill their siblings ears as they rush past the drawing room. 

That could certainly not be faked. 

The drawing room bursted into chaos. Colin started pacing by a window. Francesca sunk lower into her seat, grabbing onto Eloise and keeping her in place. Benedict started playing with hands as if he wasn’t sure what to do with them. Anthony is staring at a wall, and Daphne is burying her face in her hands. 

“My children don’t exist,” Daphne mumbled to herself, “and my husband is currently not my husband.”

“At least Simon comes this year, and you don’t have to wait another eleven years,” Eloise argued as she continued to hold onto Francesca. 

“Eloise!” Violet snapped. “I’m sure this can’t be easy for any of you. You do not need to take out on one another.” 

Colin stopped pacing and just stared out the window, bewildered. Benedict taking notice of his younger brother joined him at the window and then he too was staring. 

“I think I'm hallucinating,” Colin said. 

“I don’t think it’s possible to have the same hallucinations,’ Benedict replied, eyes still glued to the window. 

“I say what the devil are you two looking at?” Anthony joined at the window, and then joined the staring. 

Now curious Violet and the girls also took a peak out the window. The view of the window put the Featherington House insight. Getting out of two carriages marked with Lady Danbury’s crest was their spouses. Kate, Sophie, and Penelope were giggling at the boys as they stepped out of one carriage. In the other carriage Phillip stumbled onto Simon after Michael accidentally tripped him. 

Five seconds later all six siblings were scrambling towards the door with Violet chasing after them.  

“Don’t you dare leave this house! None of you are dressed! Don’t make me drag you back by your ears!” 

[dustedmagazine]

2023: Bryon Rides Anxiety’s Peaks and Valleys

Yo La Tengo

This year really tossed us all around like a gigantic blender, swirling everything together into a writhing mass of fine particles. It’s been quite the ride. Thankfully amidst the chaos, there was music. The vast cornucopia of exhilarating sounds wound itself around the many genres, and the dozens of releases spread across these twelve months. It provided the healing salve to combat the bedlam lying in the realm beyond our ears.

For me, live music in 2023 was about quality over quantity. The two shows that affected me most this past year were aligned along the theme of reunion. I’ve been a fan of Yo La Tengo since high school but had strayed from the band’s past few releases. This Stupid World brought me back into their universe. I jumped at the chance to see them in Toronto; it had been decades since I last saw them play live. They played two sets, one soft and one loud, and they didn’t disappoint. As an added bonus, I got to meet fellow Dusted writer Ian Mathers at the show. Toronto post-rockers Do Make Say Think played their first show in six years in March, around my birthday. I wasn’t going to miss it. They unleashed an enticing set of music, playing material from across their entire catalog with intense energy. It was hypnotic and exhilarating. They were also jovial, joking about the current career prospects of the band members. It was a fun night.

Many perennial favorite groups and artists released excellent albums this year. Yo La Tengo returned to their early Matador form with This Stupid World, while The Clientele expanded into new, lush and uncanny territory on I’m Not There Anymore. Califone’s Villagers pushed the band’s adventurous, bluesy roots-rock into an experimental wonderland. Bill Orcutt released Jump On It, revealing his softer side. The Live in Brooklyn 2011 set from Sonic Youth found the group trying out songs they rarely played live, as they wound down their decades-long existence. Joshua Abrams’ Natural Information Society showed that they’re not done unleashing mesmerizing sonic salvos with Since Time is Gravity. Finally, Daniel Bachman continued to push his singular brand of Americana toward the outer limits with When the Roses Come Again, and Intercepted Message found Osees covering Cisco Systems’ telephone hold music. It was a good year for long-beloved institutions.

New to me this year was the band Famous Mammals and their polyglot post-punk album Instant Pop Expressionism Now! I returned to it time and time again; it was the soundtrack to my late summer and my autumn. Digging deeper into the San Francisco band’s origins, I discovered a previously hidden world of Bay Area post-punk, populated by a tight-knit scene that originated with The World, which would fracture into Famous Mammals, Non Plus Temps, Blues Lawyer, Children Maybe Later and others. The LP in question blends elements of Swell Maps, Young Marble Giants and Television Personalities, aligning with those outfits’ brashness, naivete, and wry sense of humor. It was at the top of my list in 2023 and led me to explore the SF underground further. That digging led me to Will York’s encyclopedic tome Who Cares Anyway? York gives an in-depth perspective to the goings on in the Bay Area from the post-hippie origins of its punk scene to the self-destructive chaos of Flipper and the visionary artistry behind acts such as Mr. Bungle, Caroliner, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, et cetera. He also investigates the unique personalities that comprised the scene such as Brandon Kearney, Gregg Turkington, Seymour Glass, Barbara Manning, and Joe Pop-o-Pie. The book is worth exploring if you’re at all interested in any of the names I mentioned.

I always highlight at least one Canadian release, and this year I really got into the self-titled debut from Toronto duo You Can Can. The pairing of sound artist Andrew Zukerman and vocalist Felicity Williams is the perfect comingling of the familiar and the otherworldly. Alien soundscapes intercept beautifully crafted song forms, with synth squiggles and abstract patterns writhing alongside folk music signifiers. Let’s hope that You Can Can have more music in store for us in 2024 and beyond.

Bryon Hayes

[msclaritea]

White-Collar Recession: It's Hard to Find a High-Salary Job

Over the past year or so, pretty much everyone who's looked for a job has told me the same thing: The job market is brutal right now. They've applied to dozens if not hundreds of openings, only to get one or two callbacks. No one's hiring, they tell me. I've never seen it this bad.

Listening to them, you'd think we were in the middle of a recession. But the confusing thing is we're nowhere close to one. Unemployment is near a five-decade low. The economy is adding hundreds of thousands of jobs each month. Wages are growing faster than inflation. By all the standard measures, the job market is doing just fine. So why am I hearing such a different story from people on the ground?

The dissonance finally started to make sense to me when Vanguard, the investment-management company, released its latest report on hiring. By looking at the enrollment and contribution rates of its 401(k) retirement plans, Vanguard is able to calculate a national hiring rate broken down by income level. And what the numbers show is a two-tier job market — one divided between a blue-collar boom and a white-collar recession.

Among Vanguard's lowest earners — those who make less than $55,000 — the hiring rate has held up well. At 1.5%, it's still above pre-pandemic levels. But among those who make more than $96,000? It's pretty depressing. Hiring has slowed to a dismal 0.5%, less than half the peak it reached in mid-2022. Excluding the dip in the early months of the pandemic, that's the worst it's been since 2014. If you make a six-figure salary, it really is a bad time to be looking for a job.

The question here is why. Why are companies hiring so few white-collar workers right now? Several possible explanations come to mind. It might be that fewer people in corporate jobs are quitting right now, which would mean companies have fewer openings they need to fill. It might be that the industries that are struggling the most — tech and finance — are the ones that employ a lot of high-earning professionals. Or it might be that CEOs are making good on their threats to cut back on what they see as corporate bloat — what Mark Zuckerberg has called "managers managing managers, managing managers, managing managers, managing the people who are doing the work."

But there could be a bigger, more worrisome explanation for the downturn in white-collar hiring. Maybe companies are anticipating tough times ahead and trimming their budgets accordingly. "If you need to pull back on costs," says Fiona Greig, the global head of investor research and policy at Vanguard, "pulling back on expensive workers will reduce costs to a greater extent than pulling back on your lower-income workers." Translation: The more you earn when budgets are tight, the less an employer wants to hire you.

Now, you could argue that a slowdown in white-collar hiring doesn't really matter in the current economy, even for white-collar workers. Sure, Vanguard's data show that things are tough for professionals who are looking for a job. But there aren't that many people who actually need a new job right now: The unemployment rate for people with a college degree is 2.1%, and the national layoff rate is below what it was pre-pandemic. When the vast majority of professionals already have a job — and are able to keep their jobs — maybe it's OK that companies aren't hiring.

But that argument doesn't take into account one important factor: What if the job you have is one you hate? I have several friends who are unhappy in their current jobs, but they can't quit because no one is hiring. Some observers have called this combination of lower hiring and less quitting "the Big Stay," suggesting a kind of equilibrium after the chaos of the Great Resignation. But my colleague Emily Stewart has a better name for it: the "trapped in place" economy. I think professionals feel this trapped-in-placeness particularly acutely. After all, it wasn't that long ago that they were enjoying a "take this job and shove it" swagger, which was fun to watch. During the Great Resignation, they knew it'd be easy to find a new job, which meant it'd be easy to walk away from their current one. Even if they weren't planning to leave, the job market gave them a sense of freedom — the feeling that they no longer had to put up with a bad boss, or a brutal workload, or an arbitrary return-to-office mandate.

This, I think, is what explains what people are calling the "vibecession": the weird state of feeling like we're in a recession even though all the standard metrics show we're not. What we're experiencing is actually a slowdown in white-collar hiring — and white-collar professionals (me and my angsty friends) are the people who shape the public discourse about the economy. "People feel that things are moving in the wrong direction," says Guy Berger, the director of economic research at the Burning Glass Institute, which analyzes the labor market.

And for the most elite professionals, things could get worse before they get better. Berger tells me he doesn't expect a full-on recession anytime soon. But he's keeping an eye on the unemployment rate for people with advanced degrees. Pretty much everyone else is doing OK, job-wise — but there's been a slight uptick for all the smarty-pants with master's degrees and doctorates. They aren't exactly struggling right now. "We're still talking about the people that have the highest pay in the job market and the lowest unemployment rate," Berger says. But for them, hiring is headed in the wrong direction. And as AI tools increasingly encroach on professionals' tasks — writing, coding, coordination, analysis — we'll likely see a lot more weakness at the higher end of the income scale than at the lower end.

This isn't the story we're used to hearing about employment. For decades the economy has been leaving workers with lower incomes and less education behind while professionals have reaped all the gains. But now those roles are reversed, and it's the high earners who are taking the hit. No wonder everyone is confused about how the economy is doing. "We're having some trouble collectively digesting that," Berger says. And the longer the white-collar hiring lull continues, he warns, the more the resentment will build.

"Even if there's no big surge in layoffs, people are just going to get grumpier and more dissatisfied," Berger says. "If it continues for three or four more years, it's going to cause a lot of discontent and low morale in corporate America."

SO?

[badsext]

Treat Yo’ Self

Treat Yo’ Self : An Umbrella Academy family story

Warnings: None

When Allison comes into the kitchen for her morning coffee, she notices a group of little paper bags lined up on the table. Each of them has a number written with black magic marker, reminding her of the way Grace used to pack their lunches. 

These are about a third the size of a lunch bag and decorated with little ghosts and things. Allison suddenly remembers the date, October 31st.

Halloween treat bags. How adorable! 

Halloween wasn’t the same without Claire, of course, but maybe a little Halloween treat might help to dull the pain.

She opens bag number three. It’s gummy bears. Her favorite. She crams a small handful into her mouth, then sits down to check the news and relax with some toast and coffee.

Diego comes in and gestures towards the bags. “These from mom?” 

“I guess so.”

Diego looks into his bag and smiles.

Viktor comes in next, followed by Five in his bathrobe. “Did someone call a family meeting?”

“Mom made us some Halloween treat bags.”

The four of them stand around chatting and enjoying the sweets. Diego notices that the first bag is missing. Luther’s an early riser. Diego figures he must have taken his already.

“Looks Like Luther already got his. And we won’t see Klaus ‘till noon.” 

Allison interrupts. “Hey, um…guys?” She is clutching the table, her eyes wide. “Anybody else feeling kinda weird right now?”

Viktor laughs. The lights flicker in response.  “No…yes…” He laughs again. “Definitely.”

Diego slumps back in his chair. He is watching the second hand on the clock, his eyes barely blinking.

Klaus comes into the kitchen rubbing his eyes, stretching and scratching the bit of abdomen exposed by his cropped t-shirt.

Noticing the unusual behavior, he turns to Five and asks “What’s going on here?”

But before Five can respond, Klaus takes in the sight of the bags circulated around the room and gasps. He starts to panic. “Christ on a cracker!”

“What is it, Klaus? What did you do?”

“Whelp, those are my drugs.”

“Yes. I can see that.” He gestures to the chaos around them. “But why did you label the bags with our numbers?”

“Those aren’t your numbers! Klaus gathers up the bags to inspect what is left. “The bags are labeled with my schedule. You see, THC brownies and gummies at two and three. Just a little wake and bake to take the edge off…It’s opioids at four and six.”

Five angrily holds a crumpled bag in Klaus’ face. “What about me? What did I just ingest?”

“Oh, that was just my lunch. You owe me a new sandwich by the way.”

The lights blink again. Utensils start coming out of various drawers and fly into the sink. The garbage disposal suddenly comes on. 

Five screams over the racket. “I’m afraid to ask what drugs you do at seven o’ clock.” 

Klaus cringes. “Just a few amphetamines for that evening pick me up.”

“Klaus, You imbecile!”

Luther enters looking rather peaked.

“Where have you been? You missed all the fun.”

Luther just groans and slumps over to the sink for a glass of water. 

“What was in his bag?”

“My morning laxatives.”

@sheehalloween​

[visxionaries]

IF THE TYRELLS ARE TO MAKE HISTORY, THEN WE MUST LIVE BEYOND OUR LIFETIMES. THE WHOLE TREE DOES NOT DIE BECAUSE ONE BRANCH FAILS. (The Reach Civil War) 

First blood was shed with the murder of Lord Mathis Rowan, the then Hand of the King; the first man that quietly stood behind King Cedric Tyrell and swore him fealty upon the dawning of a new age. The Osgreys found themselves at the mercy of Goldengrove and the divine wrath of Lord Tirius Rowan, in final retribution for an act of betrayal against one's own way. This was the spark that lit the flame for chaos erupting within the Reach. 

Considering the time skip was six months in total, with two months spent conquering the Iron Islands, this meant the Civil War lasted four months. Wars should last much longer than that, but here we go. The conquering of the Krakens was from the beginning of July to the middle of August 142AC, for the Reach soldiers.

End of August 141AC: Alaric Tyrell marries Sienna Merryweather, and declares himself the rightful King of the Reach after being in hiding for months. It emerges that during the Kraken's war, he had made his move; declaring Longtable his base. Multiple houses swore fealty to him, including Hightower and Florent - Gilbert Hightower sought refuge in Brightwater under Allun Florent. Cedric Tyrell and Illya Oakheart end up betrothed. The Reach Marcher Lords begin to create tension along the Dornish border.

Early September 141AC: Lady Lucrezia Redwyne receives a plea for help from House Chester, who is outnumbered in the Shield Islands. It is decided nothing can be done, with a heavy heart. In a shocking turn of events, Mathis Rowan, the then Hand of Cedric Tyrell, was murdered by Rowan banners of House Osgrey for Alaric. First blood was shed and war was officially declared. Lord Tirius Rowan leaves Highgarden, accompanied with the men of Lord Zakariya Mallister, to take revenge upon the Osgreys and take back the land in the North of the Reach.  King Cedric orders Oakheart men to support Tirius Rowan's wrath. When it is done, House Rowan has more land to it’s name. Lord Harlon Tarly captures rogue Peake men in Horn Hill's lands, and sends them forward to Highgarden for questioning, before further consolidating his hands.

Late September 141AC: Lord Garland Hightower forces his banners to bend the knee, those treacherous houses of Beesbury, Mullendore, Cuy, Costayne and Bulwer - all using Hightower schemes and the underground influence of his Frutto. Lady Lucrezia Redwyne, with her kin Lord Gael Hightower, board the Redwyne fleet and strangle the trade of Hightower banners, blocking their access to the ocean and destroying ports as well as Bandallon's ships. They are also supported with three war galleys from House Mallister.

Early October 141AC: In the space of ten days, Lord Commander Omer Florent, the rightful Florent Lord, retakes Brightwater and Bandallon. This is aided with Tyrell bannermen, Tully bannerman, and bannerman of House Mooton granted for a favour. Lord Gilbert Hightower is captured within Brightwater, unable to escape once the rightful fox surrounds his own home, and is taken to Highgarden to be charged with treason and executed with the King's justice. He is contained for questioning and torture.

Late October 141AC: Mass hysteria and rumour spread across the realm and the smallfolk, who pray for an end to the war. A sept full of praying individuals within Longtable's lands is burned down, with people unable to escape the flames as they perish inside, prayer interrupted. Rumours spread that it was Cedric Tyrell who ordered the hit. Lady Lucrezia Redwyne and Lord Gael Hightower turn south to the Shield Islands, where they are also supported by Farman fleets on behalf of the Lannisters; the battle at sea takes three days, in stormy, unsettled weather. To their shock, there were Summer Islander soldiers supporting the traitorous houses of the Shield Islands with their guerilla tactics. By the end, it was a bloody battle at sea, that tainted the Sunset Sea red - the Arlo, one of House Redwyne's most known galleys, is lost. When it is done, they return to Highgarden, to protect it by blocking the Mander.

November 141AC: Lord Garland Hightower's military strategy goes on to aid Lord Harlon Tarly in the conquering of the region of the Marches, a mix of Hightower, Tyrell and Tarly troops. This is followed by Cedric leaving his heir Lucca and his children within Highgarden, for there must always remain a Tyrell in Highgarden - the King of the Reach, and Omer Florent, the new Lord of Brightwater, ride out to aid to take House Peake and the entire marcher region. They are also met there by Lord Tirius Rowan. House Peake is wiped out in the fighting, as the Dornish kill the last surviving Peake - Starpike is now the Cadet Branch of House Tyrell, base of Lord Lucca Tyrell. This takes the whole month, and is the bloodiest battle. Most men die in the taking of the marcher region.

December 141AC: The forces close in around Longtable, and a siege begins. Alaric's messenger makes it known the only person he will speak to is Lord Lucca Tyrell; this is deemed to be some trick, in an attempt to get hold of Cedric's Tyrell - though Lucca's twins remain safe within Highgarden. Lord Lucca Tyrell meets his cousin, and nobody knows what is spoken during that conversation; only, the treacherous King claims Longtable has enough food to survive for the next year - and he intends to see his son born. Something switches within the mind of Cedric Tyrell, and tactics become far more violent. Lady Seffora Merryweather is sent in to try and converse with her sister three times.

January 142AC: The New Year brings in no change. The High Septon calls on Alaric to submit, and accept the fate of the Gods. There is a turning point when the fields around Longtable are ordered to be torched by King Cedric Tyrell, utilising a scorched earth policy; the settlements of Longtable are intimidated, and the men are forced to join the side of Cedric Tyrell. Finally, a white flag is flown at the end of January - the two Kings, two brothers finally speak, and Alaric agrees to join them to Highgarden, with the condition that his wife Lady Sienna Merryweather would come to no harm. Somehow, Alaric Tyrell continues to believe Cedric is no kinslayer, and he will be jailed for life. The Lady Sienna Merryweather has reportedly recently miscarried a baby.

Now: Everyone has returned to Highgarden, to see the trial of Alaric Tyrell and Sienna Merryweather. This is no trial. Nobody understands why Alaric refuses to see that his brother will kill him - though they are torn on how merciful he intends to be to the Lady Sienna. Both are being kept in confinement in separate wings of the castle, overlooked by Lord Omer Florent and the Kingsguard; it is imperative they have no communication with anyone. At the same time, King Cedric has invited all realms to attend his wedding to the Lady Illya Oakheart, as well as her coronation; the Westerlands and Riverlands arrive early, as they wish to witness the trials of those their men also died because of. It is up to people whether they wish to arrive for the trial or for the wedding/coronation event only.

[demon-blood-youths]

Van Ink Za Tatsu No Harem || Part 13: On The Hunt: Assault on The Mansion Pt. 1

Hi everyone! This is Deamon-mun! And I’m here to write part one of this drabble volume. Part 2 would be written by my lovely rp partner, @the-silver-peahen-residence so I’m setting the mood and setting up for her to go from there! 

Have a great reading! If you need to catch up, please read the previous chapters below.

-------

Part 1

Part 2 - New Challenger

Part 3 - Planning Operation Party B̶a̶c̶h̶e̶l̶o̶r̶e̶t̶t̶e̶

Part 4-   Party Time Descending Into Chaos

Part 5 - Party Rumble - ( Part was Written by me. :)  )

Part 6 - How to Settle This

Part 7 - Love Jeopardy

Part 8 - Love Jeopardy Second Half

Part 9 - The game wars

Part 10 - Resolution???

Part 11 - Peak of Anger

Part 12 - Head Hunt

------ Summary ----

After the attack on the party and getting the intel based on the evidence and statements from the captured mercernaries. The boys and the fraction leaders are having a plan in motion through Dazai and Eraserhead’s briefing. 

Enjoy the show!!

----- Four Months Later ----

In the criminal underworld, a hitman approaches a client who is sitting at the table inside a dive bar. He is fidgeting and nervous. This must be his first time.

“Alright. I got your call. What’s the job?”

“This one....you gotta kill this monster. I hear you’re the best at what you do..” The client passes a photo. A bounty. The hitman looks over the name and wide his eyes slightly.

The 20-something client chuckles. “Got your attention, huh? Good. Do this and you get-”

“Forget it.” The hitman cuts him off. 

“Huh?! Why?! This damn lizard and their damn team cost me my weapon-smuggling business!!!” The client yelled.

“Do you have any idea who this person is?” The hitman sighed, tapping on the photo.

“Yeah. Van Ink The Dragon. I heard she lead a bunch of punks acting like pro-heroes without licenses, taking down bad guys. They’re nothing compare to you!”

“And you already heard that she took down that anti pro-hero, Iron Titan, right? Fought Killer Night a year ago. And a few others?” The hitman wrinkles his cigarette in annoyance. “Yeah but those guys are-” The client argues but the hitman cuts him off

“Then forget it. Just take the loss and move on. Van Ink The Dragon isn’t someone you want to mess or else the Six Claws will go after you and makes sure you will regret.” The hitman tells him.

“The what-now?” The client blinks stupidly. 

“Ugh...I’m going to tell you what happened the last time when someone who tried to target Van Ink The Dragon. Wanna know what happened?”

“Fine! Can’t it be that bad...” The client huffs, crossing his arms. “Heh. You got no idea...” The hitman begins to tell the story of The Dragon and her Six Claws. “

-----

It took time but thanks to the efforts of Mouse and Fosh with the support of ADA and a few pro-heroes such as Eraserhead. They found the identity of the person who send the mercenaries: Ray Decham. Said to be businessman whose hobbies are hunting, art collecting and is known for a money-laundering business and smuggling naroctics. He looks to be in his late twenties or early thrities, has a knack for throwing huge auction parties. He had that look that similar to a lackey from a Yazuka gang. He has pericngs on his ears as he has boastful look. 

A meeting is being held in a huge office by the ADA who find proof along with Eraserhead and Dazai who are spearheading the investigation behind the incident. 

The fraction leaders are in the meeting in person while their core teammates are watching via online. The DBT are also in person as well as they want to take down the ones responsible. Ink is in the hospital, is fine but unconscious so it’s going to take time for her to wake up. 

Dazai briefed that the motive is that Ray targeted Ink not only for the bounty but he has a reputation in underworld saying that he will take down the Dragon and he has a few friends who have a grudge against her for indirectly messing with their illegal business and he works with a doctor, Adam Ripper who is seen with him on a patio in a photograph having wine. Adam Ripper, an infamous doctor who has a reputation in illegal organ trafficking and his hobby of occult. Dazai theorized that Adam wants Ink or rather her power due to Adam’s pervious crimes. 

So in short, Decham works with Ripper. Decham hired the mercs as he has money as he wants the reputation to take down the famed Van Ink The Dragon and Adam gets to keep her body if succeeded! This got everyone disgusted besides Dazai and Eraserhead who kept a serious straight face. 

But man....they did not take in account for the six who cared about Ink so deeply or the fact their plan failed miserably the moment their hired goons attacked the party the other night.

As the meeting went on, the fraction leaders sense something off. Or rather....everyone in the room knew. The DBT and other fraction leaders can sense the anger and fury, especially Kali. She can sense how angry the boys were. Atsushi gave Dazai notes but she can tell how quiet and eerily calm he is. She sees glimpses of his tiger eyes time from time when Dazai explained the motive of these two men. Rin and Yukio are here too. Yukio had to look towards his brother a few times in concern when Rin keep his mouth shut. Kali can tell he is snarling right now, holding it in. 

Denji and Ren are with the DBT on request to which the fraction allowed them so. Denji muttering something under breath. ‘Fucking bastards..’ and whatnot as he gripping his arms tightly as he is gritting his teeth. 

Ren was silent more than usual. He zeroed in the faces of Ray Decham and Adam Ripper when Dazai summarizes the motives of these two men like he is going to murder them in their sleep. 

But it’s nothing compare to the two upcoming pro-heroes of UA. Midoriya and Bakugo.

 Bakugo hasn’t said one curse throughout this meeting. Not one. There is no outburst from him that disrupts Dazai and Eraserhead’s briefing. Which is worrying DBT and the fraction leaders.  But Midoriya? Yeah, they all FEEL that he’s pissed off because he is not saying a word and he held a blank face.

He hasn’t said one word until he asked.

“So where is Ray Decham located?” Midoriya asked calmly. There is no emotion in his voice. But damn, his voice can cut the tension with a knife, which made the fraction leaders startled. Yuuka, who knew Midoriya, who is not known for anger in class 1-A. He is a happy green bean who is so cheerful and inspires everyone, so hearing him speak like this scares her a little. 

‘Damn....these guys are PISSSSED.’ Fin thought, now pitying any SOBs who tried this shit now.

Guam gulped a little while Joshua and Rex are comforting Ashely, who is now worried about the mission.

“As you can see, this is where Ray lives. In the South Bronx, like the mercenary leader has stated. However...he has a few properties; a mansion in Riverdale which is straight north from the South Bronx. Not too far, another in the Hamptons, and one in Yonkers.” Eraserhead said before listing other properties.

“So the guy is lying-?” Denji growled, now wishing to chop the bastard’s dick off. 

“No, the GPS is correct. The location acts as a checkpoint. Endeavor has arrested his associates who hand in giving the mercs weaponry and has given up Aaron’s whereabouts to us.” Eraserhead added. “We checked the properties with other fraction and it leaves Riverdale. Given the structure of the mansion, it is said to be that Decham lives on this property.

"That said, we have you two along with Atsushi, Rin and the DBT to go to Riverdale and apphrend Decham. We have yet to find Adam Ripper..."Dazai said. 

This got the fraction leaders.

“Wait...are we not participating in this?” Rex asked. 

“Oh no! I think it’s best if we leave in their hands.” Dazai smiles with a laugh. As if he knew what the six are capable of right now. 

‘In their hands???’ Yuuka thought. Knowing Midoriya and Bakguo, they’re top of their class and work under Endeavor so they’re more than capable. So they can handle them. Atsushi? He’s good and he can transforms into a weretiger. She heard Fin that he made some good progress Not sure about Ren but she heard good things about him from Oblivion. Rin? He has a demon sword and can set things on fire. Denji. After what his idea of busting the mercernaries’ balls in getting them to talk?! Yeah...these guys are going to tear the place up. And nothing will stop them.

“Now let’s get this mission on the road!” Dazai laughed.

The fraction leaders has a feeling that Dazai is going to enjoy the destruction oif Ray Decham and his estate. Just like him, Kali nods. “Okay let’s do it. I will accompany them. We have rides! Bernard and Welsey can drive them there.”

“Jaron recovered so he can drive us there as well.” Shdwkyz stated. 

“Hm...” Ren nods. And so the mission begins.

-------- Ray’s Mansion, Riverdale, Bronx -------

There were guards stationed around the manison and inside. There were maids and bulters around doing their routine of housekeeping. Further down the hall, Ray Decham is on a phone call near the pool at his backyard, talking to someone. “No. I haven’t heard anything from Condor and his team. yet” He said. “Huh?! You’re saying they failed?! How?! You said these guys are pros at what they do, Ripper! Tch. Those guys aren’t going to talk. Or else they can forget about being paid! Huh? Go with the back-up plan. Yeah, okay! That’s fine. I will do that.” Ray then blinks. 

“Huh?! You’re leaving?! But what about the dragon?!”

Then he heard a loud explosion that made him stagger, making lose his balance and sits down on a chair. 

“What the fu-” Ray heard it before he hears another explosion. A terrorist attack?! There is shouting and gunshots running out the building. 

“B-boss! We’re under attack!!” Said a guard as he bursts through the doors. There were booming sounds and yelling as the guards were trying to fight something or someone. 

“Hah!?! Under attacked?! By who?!” Ray asked. “The pro-heroes?!”

“Yeah...but uh..”

“Yeah but what?!” Ray demanded to know what’s going on.

“There’s six of them!” The guard cried. 

“SIX?!” Ray yelled in disbelief. 

----- Outside of the Ray’s Property ------

“Well shit! They go through the front?!” Kali said watching this thanks to Mouse and Fosh’s drones who is recording this on the scene. She is eating popcorn and passing this to Oblivion and Rust who are invested in this. 

“I have my money on Atsushi here!” Dazai laughed, watching unfold. He is going to supervising this. Of course....

“I go with Bakugo...” Maggie said.

“Nah...Denji!” Rust said. 

“You guys...” Fosh sighed while Yuuka sighs, “Can you guys take this seriously?!” This is serious but then again. Seeing how the guys took out professional mercernaries. Those guards are no match for them. 

“This is going to be itneresting.” Hellmare said while sipping her frappe. “How much damage are they going to inflict.”

“Till the place in rubble.” Oblivion said.

“Yeah...no doubt about that.” Shdwkyz said. “They’re going to tear the place apart in search of Decham.” 

“Shit.....” Navarro slumped his shoulders. He is thanking god that these guys are not the enemy because holy shit. They are fucking everyone up except for the housekeeping staff. They got fuck of there and went into hiding. 

Navarro can hear the yelling from here.

And so the assualt on the manison begins....

To be continue.

[ravenspeakrp]

Welcome to Raven’s Peak, Em, we’re excited to have you! Mara Aurora Vadeboncoere (Victoria Pedretti, Witch Demon) has been accepted. Please be sure to stop by the CHECKLIST for the follow list, tags to track, and other reminders.

IN CHARACTER

FULL NAME: Aurora Vadeboncoere (Mara) SPECIES: Demon (believed to be a witch) AGE: 31 / ? DATE OF BIRTH: June 24, 1994 GENDER IDENTITY: Cis-woman (she/her) NEIGHBORHOOD: Downtown OCCUPATION: Owner WORKPLACE: Eternal Petals POSITIVE TRAITS: Charming, intelligent, seductive NEGATIVE TRAITS: Manipulative, sadistic, selfish LENGTH OF TIME IN RAVEN’S PEAK: 7 years (newly possessed) FACE CLAIM: Victoria Pedretti

BIOGRAPHY

TRIGGER WARNING: parental death, possession, hell, torture

Aurora was the fourth of six children, a beacon of kindness in a world often too harsh. Tragedy struck early in her life; her mother perished in a house fire, and her father died in a car accident when she was only ten. Her older sisters, Flora and Fauna, moved the family to Raven's Peak to be closer to their coven and to protect their siblings from these heartaches.

The little girl's spirit remained untainted. Sweetness was her essence, guiding her every action. At eighteen, while other college students partied and drank, Aurora found joy in her studies, unable to understand the fun in drinking until they forgot the best years of their lives.

She spent some time traveling after graduating, embracing the world's beauty before returning home, ready to plant roots and start a family. With her love for flowers, she opened her own flower shop.

Her devotion to her siblings and friends was unwavering; she was always there with a comforting shoulder and wise advice. Everything about her was sweet, her appearance, demeanor and even her voice. She was truly too kind for this world, a quality that would, unfortunately, lead to her downfall.

People in Aurora's life truly loved her, but the one being who didn't was the demon who took her as a vessel. Mara, once a human of unparalleled beauty, knew how to use her appearance to manipulate and deceive. Her insatiable desire for power and pleasure eventually led to her demise. Condemned to thousands of years in the depths of hell, Mara endured unimaginable tortures, each moment stretching into an eternity of pain until she forgot everything about her old life.

Eventually, she found a way to escape and began searching for the perfect vessel. Aurora, with her gentle soul and innocence, was the ideal target. Mara saw in her an opportunity to experience the pleasures and freedom she had been denied for so long. Taking Aurora as her vessel was a calculated move, exploiting her vulnerability to slip seamlessly into her life.

While inhabiting her body, she needed to maintain the facade of being Aurora. Mimicking her behaviors and interactions to avoid suspicion, but the simplicity of Aurora's life bored Mara to the core. Possessing her became a twisted game of playing the part while taking this opportunity to cause chaos and have fun.

[theawakenedstate]

The missing ingredient in your holiday shopping list this year is Self-Care, especially for the Intuitive empath. I know the holidays can be both amazing and a mentally stressful time of year. There’s more on your plate, more obligations, and aside from needing more bubble baths, I’m sure what you really want someone to say is this: 

YOU’RE DOING MORE THAN ENOUGH. 

and it’s all appreciated. 

Here are Six Tips for Holiday Self- Care

If you’re more of a visual person, check it out on the insta here

1. Embrace the Inner and Outer Balance The balance is about Exercising BOTH parts of your mind.

Are you Externally Overstressed from Everyday Living and feeling all over the place with the holidays?

Too much External Reality for your Spiritual soul: If you’re suddenly overstressed or anxious from everyday living, you’re neglecting your center by not focusing on what’s internal

You are overstimulated – so turn down the lights

Energy Management Tip: Go Within. Dig Deeper. Listen. find inner stillness, Slow down your pace of actions , Go back to your center, yoga, creativity, exercise the right brain, Slooooooooow Down your life & LISTENING deeply. Practice more mindfulness.

Are you so out there in outer space you’re now overwhelmed and anxious by spiritual practices?

Internal Mind – Overwhelmed by Spiritual practices If you’re suddenly overwhelmed from Spiritual practices or intuitive abilities,

you’re not focusing on external reality enough!

Do something mundane or simple to bring you back to baseline, like clean your room, organize something, play a game, go outside, one on one conversation, binge watch tv, see a movie, play a video game, do the sims, go for a walk, spend time with family, do something fun for yourself,

look at cat pictures, lol

Self-Care Energy Management Tip:

Holiday external stress —> Go Inward, slow down, maybe organize your thoughts with a planner 😉 . unplug and relax more.

Spiritual Burnout –> Get your butt up dance, exercise, and do mundane sh*t like watch a holiday movie, look at cat pictures and get your head PRESENT.

2. Find a Cozy Place to Recharge

I don’t know if I’m just getting older but my favorite time of the day is when i get to go to my recharging space and play with my ambient lights. lol

I have a Galaxy 360 projector with ambient lights, I usually have music or video games or coloring!

And I just allow myself to let go for a bit to recharge.

Sometimes I visualize or meditate –

Find the right pillows, colors, lighting and stimulation for your mind to help you recharge.

Our minds are like batteries, sometimes our energy needs to recharge not just during sleep!

Self-Care Tip: What is your recharging space? Is it cozy and relaxing?

3. When in Doubt – Practice Mindfulness by Unplugging

Let’s face it, we are in the Digital Era of VR, Social Media, Constant Binging Notifications and navigating the mental affects of inflation. Unplugging during the holiday chaos can be ESSENTIAL for Empaths, HSP, and anyone who is getting over-stimulated by too much everything

One unconventional practice of mindfulness is simply, less screen-time or being more mentally disciplined with your screen time like with a focus timer app or App Blocker.

Do you have to check FB or IG as soon as you’re awake? what if you waited until noon?

Did you know our Minds are actually biologically designed to be MORE productive in the first waking hours of the day due to our brain waves moving out of “sleep mode”.

How we use that time tells our brain ‘this is what is important’ – by mid afternoon, we are designed to be more laid back, social and our brain waves change again. This is why doing social networking in the afternoon is actually a stronger strategy for the mind and to do your most intense habits in the early hours of the day when your mind is at peak performance and high alert.

Self-Care Tip: When feeling overwhelmed and unfocused, Drop the Devices and Focus on more Present-Awareness with Unplugging.

As an Empath not only will you benefit from less stimulation but you will also come back home to yourself.

4. Do Energetic Check-ins ❄️Ask Yourself: Is this my Energy or Theirs?

During the Holidays it’s easy to start to neglect your own Center.

You’re like a fishing pole, you’re hooking onto these emotions which aren’t necessarily even yours!

Question & Detach yourself from them. Come back to your own energy, repeatedly. Focus on something only you would know. experience, or something that makes you happy.

When this happens we unconsciously live inside people’s energies, even by thinking of them for too long, You begin neglecting your own center.

You always need to come back to base camp: your personal energy.

Your Self-care Tip: Is this really me or them? Realize that the judging, complaining and belittling is only a person talking about themselves. Make your energy checkpoint especially when you feel irritable, drained, uncomfortable or frazzled. Bring yourself back with a thought or memory that only you would know. Recite an affirmation if it helps.

5. Look at Your Language and Self-Talk

Empower your Words with Gratitude

REMOVE “I CAN’T” FROM YOUR VOCABULARY.

Pay Attention to your Universals: “Always”, “Never” “should” “All the time” “can’t” “Every” These words are your weapon to destruction or your key to success.

What you affirm is what you attract.

❄️What do you want to be affirming during the holidays?

Have an Attitude of Gratitude even during the smallest of things like fresh coffee or food in your fridge. Gratitude strengthens our energy and mindset during the holidays.

Your Energy Managing self-care Tip: Words are not merely “words”. They wield power. They orchestrate your life. Use them Wisely. Learn to let go of words, impulse statuses and thoughts that don’t serve your highest good.

6. Do YOUR favorite Holiday Treats

Holidays always bring obligations, often making it a time of generous “giving”. For Empaths, they can’t help but give, it’s in our nature. However, this sometimes leads to unhealthy self-neglect, mental exhaustion, and often a constant need to say ‘yes’ to every event and party.

In response to this: REBEL and Make time to do YOUR FAVORITE Holiday Traditions and treats.

Write a list of your favorite Treats and traditions.

Say “No” instead of “Yes, sure…”

and Girl Stop Apologizing for wanting peace and quiet, cozy days with blankets instead of festive parties

and as always,

make time for yourself this season and don’t be afraid to ask for what you want.

It’s in our empathetic heart, we’d rather spend money on angel trees and forget about ourselves during the holidays – and this is where i’m calling a big B.S.

Make time for BOTH.

Don’t forget to give yourself a Holiday too.

Perhaps that is the Gift that keeps on giving. When your cup is over-floweth then you have more love and treats to give anyway.

Besides Self-care is not Selfish sometimes it’s required for a joyous holiday, good peace in HOME and good will toward men.

you see what I did there 😉

For More Energy Management Tips, Check out The Energy Management Toolkit right now 50% Off for the Black Friday Extravaganza.

Now Until Cyber monday 11:59 CST

I’m so grateful for our growing community, what started out as a small tumblr blog with only 11 people has now transformed into a blossoming community across multiple networks.

And I couldn’t be more grateful that you exist.

Thank you for reading and

Happy Holiday Season!

P.S. There’s 48 Hours left for the Black Friday Extravaganza! – 50% off select Programs. End of the year gift bundles ❄️☃️ Let’s CONQUER 2024 with WILD SPIRITUAL ALIGNMENT

The BF Extravaganza is in full swing 50% off select programs and ANY purchase receive a free holiday treat to conquer 2024! The Spiritual Awakened Life digital planner Gift for yourself or give to a spiritual bestie for the holidays Link Below for full details: theawakenedstate.net/Black-friday-extravaganza-sale

pssst before you Go If you enjoyed this Article feel free to Pin it or share to your fav socials, thank you!

https://www.theawakenedstate.net/6-holiday-self-care-tips-for-the-empath/

6 Holiday Self-Care Tips For the Empath

The missing ingredient in your holiday shopping list this year is Self-Care, especially for the Intuitive empath. I know the holidays can be both amazing and a mentally stressful time of year. There’s more on your plate, more obligations, and aside from needing more bubble baths, I’m sure what you really want someone to say […]

[xspookymetalheadx]

Hi everyone, I'm new to Tumblr. I have been inspired by Booktok to create and write my own stories to share with others. I've been wanting to write for a long time but I just didn't know what. I finally feel inspired so all I ask is please be nice and respect my work. I would love any feedback or opinions, or ideas on how to make the story more interesting. If you are going to be rude or disrespectful i will block you. Thank you for your time. This is called "Exotic Chaos".

✨Prologue✨

The sound of my coffee pouring out scalding liquid is music to my ears as I yawn and my neck cracks. I look at my phone, the white screen blinding me for a second. It's five thirty in the morning and I haven't got an ounce of sleep. My husband has been missing for forty eight hours and police have yet to find any clues to his disappearence.

Lost in my thoughts, I decide to go to my son's room down the hall and take a quick peak. He's sound asleep and is cuddled in his batman blanket. I crack his door and head back to the kitchen. He looks peaceful, so I am going to let him sleep.

The coffee maker makes a beeping noise and I put my cup underneath the spout and inhale the steam. Smooth caramel flavor....good for the soul.

I pick up the coffee pot and pour myself a cup. I add a little sugar and mix. I grab some ice from the freezer and plunk them into the burning liquid.

I look inside my fridge and see I still have creamer and caramel sauce. I grab both and once the final stir is in, my potion will be ready.

I'm sitting on my couch and decided to turn on the early morning news. All I see is bullshit about the weather and people getting upset over politics. All of that didn't matter to me. I was more hopeful there would be something brought up in the public about what happened to my husband. I take a sip of my sweet, creamy creation and stare off into the distance. What if I'm next?

I shake my head and sigh. You can't think like that. I decide to gulp down my beverage in one go and get up. Right as I stood up, my cat, Salem, rubs up against me and meows. "Good morning, sweet girl," I bend down and pick her up. She melts into my chest and starts purring. I nessle my chin into her head. "I take it you slept well." She looks up at me with her bright orange eyes and head butts me and scoots closer to my neck.

I start to remember the day I rescued her. I was on my way to work in the heavy rain on a highway when I spotted her in the middle of the road. I put my hazards on and thankfully people drove around me. I remember wrapping her up in a blanket and running back to my car. She was shivering and very frail. Somehow she made it through the night and I ended up taking her to the nearest vet that next morning. By the grace of the universe, she only had a bacterial infection that was caught just in the nick of time. She had to spend the night for twenty four hours while on IV treatment and antibiotics.

I scratch her silky ears as she completely flops in my lap. Before I can even react, my phone starts ringing. I glance at the caller ID, and see it's my best friend, Vixen. My thumb swipes the green button and I stand up.

"I didn't think you would answer this early. Are you okay?" I sigh into the phone and run my fingers through my messy hair. "There has been no update on my husband. I'm starting to feel like something awful happened to him."

There's a short pause and she continues. "I'm sorry, Luna. I know this is mentally draining you. Maybe since you are awake, I can pick you up and we can go do something fun. You need to get out of the house."

I groan. I'm not a very outdoorsy person. Going to and from work is draining enough, and all I care about is keeping my bills paid and keeping everyone above water. She laughs at me. "I'll come get you around eight thirty. I want to see my little superhero!"

A half smile appears on my face and I shake my head. "We will be ready." I glance at the time and it's already six forty five. I drop my dirty dish in the sink and make my way into my son's room.

He is laying on his back, and his covers are over his feet. My hand slowly traces his cheek and he opens his eyes. I bend down to kiss his forehead. "Time to get up, sweetheart. Auntie Vixen is coming to get us at eight thirty."

His eyes light up and he jumps out of bed. He runs past me and goes into the bathroom. "When you are done with your shower, please get dressed and sit down out here. I'm pretty sure she will buy us breakfast, so you can have a cup of milk or juice before we leave." My son's head pops around the door frame. "Okay, mommy."

My son and I are waiting on my front porch for Vixen to show up. I take out a pack of Marlboro Smooths and slide out a single stick. A flick of my thumb on my lighter sends the end of the cigarette into a bright red cherry frenzy. My body tingles all over for a few seconds. I keep telling myself I will quit smoking these and switch to vaping, but the rush of nicotine going through my veins off of one drag keeps my inner cranky bitch from coming out. I look up and I see her pull up in my driveway in her metallic purple Mercedes. A heavy metal song is blasting through her speakers and makes the car shake. She grins when she sees us and turns off the car.

"Hi, big man! Auntie got you a present." She hands him a set of hot wheels cars. His face lights up and he hugs her.

"Please tell me we are getting something to eat," I say desperately. "I only had a cup of magical bean juice."

She shakes her head and giggles at me. "We are going to Starbucks." Suddenly, her eyes dart off to where my mailbox is. She takes a few steps towards it and squints her eyes. "Did someone break into your mailbox?"

I step on my cigarette and walk down the porch steps. "What are you talking about? Who would even think of stealing mail?"

She takes my arm and pulls me towards her. I look over at my son and he's sitting in the backseat making airplane noises with his new toys. I come face to face with the opening to my mailbox. I noticed bent metal, and.....

What the fuck is that?

I look closer and see a few drops of blood have been smeared on the surface. My stomach starts doing flips and I look up at Vixen.

"We have to open it. Try not to touch the blood."

Her eyes widen. "Are you fucking kidding me? This can be a clue or something. Cross contamination is a serious thing!"

I pause for a second and think about what I'm about to do, and I decide to be a nosy bitch anyway.

I pull the handle down and jump back. The sunlight beams through the inside and I see a brown box with black duct tape holding it shut. I slowly pull it out and examine it. No return address. All it has written on it is my name and where I live.

I walk back into my house and grab a sharp knife to cut through the tape. Vixen has a confused and terrified look on her face as I pull the sides of the box down.

Inside there is crumpled white tissue paper and an envelope is sitting on top of a smaller box that's sealed. I grab the envelope and turn it over. Written in cursive is "Luna".

Taking a deep breath, I place my finger in the crease of the corner and rip the top off. My fingers pull out a folded letter. My eyes skim over the piercing words.

"He shattered your heart, so I gutted his out. Happy Valentine's Day, Baby."

With my mouth gaping wide open now, I attempt to keep my hand still as I shred apart the tape to the smaller box. My chest feels tight and I'm struggling to focus. I close my eyes for a second to collect myself.

Vixen comes through the door carrying my son on her hip. "What is it?" My gaze meets hers and I hand her the note. Her face turns pale.

"This could be your husband's killer!"

I purse my lips and cock my head to the side. "Vixen, I have to see if this shit is actually real."

She sits down and tells my son to go his room. He pouts, but follows her instruction and closes his door shut.

"Luna, you have to turn this in to the police. If you want answers, here's some evidence!"

I bite the inside of my cheek. I carefully remove all the extra tissue paper and dive into the smaller box that awaits me.

As I lock my attention on the object that's sitting there, I begin to scream.

A massacred heart covered in dry blood. Alongside the rotted organ laid black orchid flowers, crafted into a precise heart shape. The petals had pieces of ribcage stuck to them. My vision goes out and I feel myself fall backwards, blanking out at the last second.

✨CHAPTER 1: The HitMan✨

~48 HOURS EARLIER~

I take out my pocket knife and click it open. I examine the blade as I lick my lips. This thing could definitely cut diamonds....or panties.

"Do you know who the fuck I am?!"

I snap out of my fantasy world and look down at the pathetic piece of trash sitting in a chair, arms and legs bound by thick brown rope. I laugh.

"You're a fucking disgrace to Luna," I begin. I slowly walk behind him and place my hands on his shoulders. His body freezes beneath my grip. I swiftly grab his hair and yank his neck back so his eyes are looking up into mine.

"You're the scum of the earth. If Luna even saw a glimpse of who you truly are, you would lose the best thing that ever happened to you. I know everything you do, John. You screw barely legal girls and launder money. I also know you like to beat on women. A few weeks ago you gave Luna a black eye and busted nose."

I take a deep breath and have to ground myself for a minute. I remember that evening vividly.

She was sitting outside on her porch, the light drizzle of rain lightly covering the withered steps. The smoke from her cigarette blended in with the faint light above her. Her phone made a noise as she took a long drag. The phone screen illuminated on her soft pale face, but to my horror, there was smeared blood on her lips and chin. My gaze fixated on her nose, where I could tell it was swollen and bruised. Her left eye was puffed up and probably pulsating from the agony she had to endure.

"My wife is a piece of shit. She's gotten lazy over the years, and she has excuses as to why things aren't done. After she had our son, it messed up her body. Who wants to fuck damaged goods?"

I'm beginning to see red as I place myself in front of him. I forcefully grab his jaw and yank him up to my eye level.

"Don't you ever talk about her like that again."

He batches up a loogie in his throat and spits in my eye. "If you like her so much, you can have her. She means nothing to me!"

It was in this moment that I plunged my blade into his right thigh until I felt his bone snap in half. The floor underneath us was showered in red liquid. His shriek of suffering was music to my ears. Gripping the end of my weapon, I withdraw back and it slides out like butter. I suck in a deep breath and wipe his bodily fluids off the blade with my bare fingers. Deciding to stuff it away in my back pocket, I nonchalantly pull out my slick ebony .45 Glock and press it against the center of his forehead. His face has drained of all color and his eyes widen as he realizes his doom. I grin sinisterly and make eye contact.

"Thank you for giving me permission, John. I will take it from here."

Before he can even utter a word, I pull the trigger. Brain and bone matter explode everywhere.

I look over at my accomplice and nod my head. "Get rid of this meat suit. Spare the heart."

The accomplice nods back and immediately pulls out his burner cell to make a call.

The scorching water flows down my skin as I release all my tension in my body. My gaze follows the liquid down to the drain where it adequately swirls crimson streaks until it vanishes. My eyes close, and I feel at peace for a moment.

Right as I get focused to finish my shower, my cell phone starts ringing.

I decide to let it ring as I concentrate on getting soap and shit off me, making sure I get every inch of skin. Once I'm free of any DNA evidence on my body, I calmly turn the nozzle until the shower stops running.

I sheepishly wrap a towel around my waist and look at my phone. It was my accomplice. The other line rings a couple times and he answers.

"The job is done, boss. How do you want your gift delivered?"

I set my phone down on my bathroom sink hitting the speaker button. "Same day delivery, please."

~PRESENT DAY~

"Scotch, no ice."'

The bartender writes down my order and goes to the back to make my drink. My eyes scan the bar as my request is placed on a napkin beside me. Placing my card on the bar, I get a sip.

The bartender hands me my receipt and I sign my initials.

I go back to fixating on the hundreds of bodies that are dry humping and getting shit faced.

Tilting my head back, I throw the Scotch down my throat.

A petite hand slides up my back and gently caresses my arm.

"You look lonely. Want some company?"

A young woman wearing a skin tight pink dress that barely holds her tits leans against me. The smell of her perfume clogs my nose. "If you take me home tonight, you won't regret it," She whispers in my ear with her heavily painted lips. Right as her fingers brush my crotch, I sternly placeher arm back at her side.

"Sorry, sweetheart. You can't have me."

She gives me a dirty look and flips me off.

As I'm watching her get as far away from me as possible, my sight lands on the pool table in a separate area away from the dancefloor.

A lump forms in my throat as I heavily watch a creepy guy that's trying to grope Luna's ass. She's here with Vixen, which is good to know. If I found out she came here alone, she wouldn't be able to sit down for a whole day.

I bite my lip just thinking about what I would do to her.

However, I must admit she's been a good girl lately. I wonder how she liked my present.

My eyesight is on high alert as I watch him stand over her while she's bent over the pool table, attempting to take her shot at winning the game. He looks like a famished predator, waiting to strike at any moment that she's vulnerable. His perverted mind goes to the gutter as he takes a step back to admire her figure.

Glancing at her untouched drink, I watch him take out a plastic bag from his pocket and dump white powder into her glass.

Right as she reaches for her refreshment, Vixen punches him in the jaw and he goes down on the floor.

"Stupid bitch!!" He roars out in fury. The crowd goes silent, and security has already gotten him on his feet. He's caressing his face and tears are streaming down his cheeks. What a pussy. He doesn't know it yet, but he's a dead man.

After he is escorted out of the building, I decide to follow, staying several feet behind. When we all make it outside, a police car is waiting. Blue and red lights illuminate the street like a rave. Nosy pedestrians are asking questions about what happened.

Since everyone is distracted, and the police are taking statements, I confidently walk up to the perp who attempted to drug Luna and sit next to him.

"So I hear you like to spike drinks,"

I swiftly reach over and dig in his pocket for anymore substances. Attempting to twist my arm and throw me off him, I laugh.

Looking at me with complete regret, I hold up three small bags with the unknown chemical and wave them in his face.

"Why do you give a fuck about what I do?" He snaps, and tries to slap my hand away.

My eyebrows furrow and I seize his neck in a matter of seconds. One wrong move and it's lights out.

"You targeted my woman. You don't deserve to breathe the same oxygen she does. It's a fucking privilege."

As his face turns a light shade of purple, my grip on his neck loosens.

He catches his breath, and after regaining his balance, he laughs.

"That bitch is worthless. She's lucky her fatass got my attention. She was asking for it!"

My chest tightens, and my vision blurs. Good thing I have my accomplice on speed dial.

I catch him off guard by knocking his teeth in with my gun. Before he can let out a cry for help, I'm subduing him in a headlock and clasp his mouth open.

The poison that occupied the empty baggies were slithering down his throat and his body was lashing like a fish out of water. My palm was blocking his mouth and nose; the harder he fought, the tighter my grip.

After about thirty seconds of struggle, he went limp. Foam mixed with clots of blood seeped out of his nasal cavity and onto the ground beneath.

Pushing the now dead body off me, I take out my phone and snap a picture.

Glimpsing around, I drag the body to my car and stuff him in the trunk. My accomplice is waiting patiently on the passenger side.

"You look rough, boss."

I sigh, and rev up my engine. "What does a man have to do to get a break?"

There's only one thing that can give me peace and sanctuary, and there's only one person that can tame my inner demons.

Her.

And I will do everything in my power to make her mine, even if it means going to the deepest depths of hell to prove she's my paradise.

[j-graysonlibrary]

Silverfalls Court Chapter 5

Title: Silverfalls Court

Author: Jay Grayson

Word Count: 50K

Genres: drama, suspense, who-done-it, LGBT+

Available on: Kobo and my website

Synopsis: A young girl, lost in the bliss of her first relationship, will do anything in the pursuit of what she believes is true love—even sneaking out of her house in the dead of night. Unfortunately, she is met by someone she didn’t quite expect. Her fight or flight instincts kick in but she in no match for the killer in the woods.

And her death won’t be the only one.

The once peaceful and quaint neighborhood of Silverfalls Court is thrown into chaos and upheaval when bodies keep showing up in the woods. When it becomes apparent that the murderer must be one of them, suspicions grow thick and trust is shattered.

Some, like Lisa-Marie Castel, want to play detective and solve the case on their own while others, like Dominique Pulmer, want to keep their heads down and wait for things to return to normal. Some might even wish to capitalize on the bizarre nature of the story while those who have been personally affected are left to pick up the broken pieces of their lives amidst the chaos.

Full chapter 5 under the cut:

5. The Sun Still Rises

Light peaked over the tree line as Lamar jumped for the last time. He set his jump rope down on the ground and exhaled loudly. Sweat rolled down his face and down his back but was immediately cooled by the early morning chill. He rested his hands on his knees and took a few more ragged breaths before placing two fingers against his neck and counting his heart rate.

Strong. Healthy. Exactly what he was aiming for.

Lamar smiled and reached down to his ankles, removing the weights that had been strapped around them. They were each three pounds and, while they never felt like a big deal at first, after a few jumps, the weights became his greatest hurdle. Finally taking them off was always a huge relief and he felt a hell of a lot more than six pounds lighter once they hit the ground.

After drinking some more water, Lamar moved onto a dumbbell set. It was the last part of his morning workout so he was in the homestretch.

He always began with stretching and a couple of yoga poses, moved into cardio—increasing the intensity as he went—and ended with strength training. All before nine AM unless he had a morning client.

He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth before toweling off some excess sweat and picking his starting weights. Just as he taught his clients, he began with just a little weight and gradually moved up.

Of course, he’d been training for years now so his starting weight for arm curls was ten pounds on each arm. He planned to make it up to forty or fifty before he was done but, considering how out of it he’d felt lately, Lamar already predicted he’d only get to forty.

He tried to keep his mind clear when he worked out. It was a time for himself and himself only—it was almost sacred in a way. During the hour he worked out, he attempted to only think about the task at hand and not let his mind wander.

But with recent events, it was much easier said than done.

The murder of Leigh Duval was already a shock to the neighborhood but now that Peter Rosello had been found in almost the same spot as the girl, killed by the same method, things had been tense. It would have been easy for Lamar to say that it didn’t concern him since he barely knew the Rosellos, much less the first dead girl, but he couldn’t get it out of his mind.

He wondered if one of his neighbors was really responsible though. Naturally, he didn’t want to think any of them were capable of such a thing and the collective feeling of mourning amongst both cul-de-sacs was proof that they were all equally stunned and saddened by the event. But he couldn’t help but consider the darker options.

As much as he disliked the idea, he felt that, if it was someone around the area, it was most likely one of the other kids. They were last seen with Peter and they were defending each other passionately anytime anyone asked about the murders.

At least, that was what Lamar had heard. He hadn’t spoken with any of them personally.

When he considered the adults around the neighborhood, he couldn’t imagine any of them having the time or motivation to do it. Even if that alone didn’t necessarily count anyone out, Lamar just had a hard time pointing fingers.

Though, when he really thought about it, he had no reason to point his finger in the first place. He had no information. He had no stake in it.

Lamar sighed and stopped himself. He was being nosy just for the sake of it, he realized and tried to clear out his mind again. It was similar to the instinct that caused people to look at a car crash as they passed by—the morbid curiosity to see without having to live with the consequences.

Really, if he had to worry about something, he had his own personal things to fret over. Lamar frowned and moved up in weight. As he slowly curled his arms up toward his chest, he thought about what was around the corner.

 Susan’s family would be over for Thanksgiving and he had to try, again, to impress them. Even if he knew he’d never have their approval, they were important to his wife and he wanted to make an effort.

It was always something with them. His house was dirty, he had the wrong things in his fridge, being a personal trainer wasn’t a stable enough job. But the house wasn’t dirty, what was in the fridge was relative to taste, and his job paid good money.

They just had to say whatever they could think of in order not to say the real reason they didn’t like him. The real reason that he and Susie both knew.

Susie just continued to hope (naively, if he were being honest) that, if her parents spent enough time with Lamar, they would come to like him. That his upstanding personality alone would convince them that he was more than the color of his skin.

The upcoming stress nearly made his stomach twist. Maybe that was why his mind veered into the territory of the murders, he considered. He wouldn’t be directly affected by them so musing over it was almost like an escape compared to the very real upcoming dinner.

Lamar set his weights down and sat on the grass with a sigh. He still preferred to have a clear mind but it seemed that level of mental peace was out of his reach for the day. 

He stretched his legs out and relaxed just as his neighbor’s back door slid open. Five year old Hunter Dickson ran out with his arms outstretched while his parents followed behind a lot more sluggishly. Hunter’s mother, Kimberly, rubbed her eyes and then looked around, spotting Lamar instantly and giving him a little wave.

Lamar waved back before shouting over to them, “What are y’all doing up so early?”

“He wants to play T-ball,” Gary answered as he looked at his energetic son.

“You promised,” Hunter said while pointing at them. “’Member?”

“Yeah, yeah, I remember…”

Lamar smiled and glanced back to Kimberly.

She walked closer to his side of the yard and explained, “We promised him T-ball in the morning if he went to bed early last night. It bit us in the tookus.” Her accent really stood out on the word “tookus”. Lamar wasn’t sure what, exactly, her accent was but he always assumed somewhere in Eastern Europe based on what he’d heard in movies and TV shows.

He laughed. “I see.” His eyes drifted back to Gary and Hunter as the man set up his T-ball stand. “If you want, I’ll play with him. I just finished my workout and I’m much more awake than either of you. Plus, Susie won’t be home for a few hours still.”

Kimberly’s brow rose. “Would you?”

Lamar nodded and gathered himself up from the ground. A groan came out of him but he wasn’t too exhausted to play with a little kid. The tike would probably tire himself out before Lamar’s energy was depleted.

Gary certainly looked like he’d been saved as well when his wife filled him on what was happening. He handed Lamar the ball instantly before he went back to the porch. The two returned to their house but came back moments later—both with mugs of coffee.

He knew it wasn’t any of his business but Lamar couldn’t help but wonder what the two saw in each other. Gary was almost sixty and owned a local bowling alley while Kimberly was just shy of twenty-five. Love could transcend age, Lamar believed, but he genuinely could not imagine what the two had to talk about or if they had anything in common.

But, as he reminded himself, people often thought similar things about himself and Susie. They were so visually different that people questioned what they had in common or what they liked about one another.

The truth was that they didn’t have a lot in common but both he and Susie enjoyed learning about new things from each other. A lot of the bands Lamar listened to now were all Susie’s favorites and she’d started watching basketball—actually enjoying it more than she ever imagined.

Perhaps it was the same for Gary and Kimberly.

Lamar focused on Hunter as the boy swung wildly at the ball with no success. He laughed and helped the kid position his body for the perfect swing though he, naturally, didn’t retain any of the instructions. Lamar tried demonstrating but that didn’t seem to stick either.

“I’m going to need to learn more patience if me and Susie ever want kids,” he said to the Dicksons and both of them laughed.

“It’s a lot more work than you think it is,” Gary said, “And I’ve had a lot more life experience than you have.”

“You’ve just got to be kind,” Kimberly countered, “Right now is the only time Hunter is allowed to make mistakes. When you’re grown, messing up has consequences. Now, he is free to mess up and learn so…he should.”

Lamar nodded. There was some wisdom in that and he tried to think of it that way as Hunter continued to miss the ball on the stand. The older the boy got, the less room he had for error—in all aspects in life. It was almost enviable, he mused.

***

With laundry finished, ingredients for dinner already bought, and a movie rented, Susie would have nothing to worry about when she came home. She’d had a long shift at the store since two people called out and no one else was picking up to come fill in for them.

Lamar really wished she’d look elsewhere for a job with how much abuse she took but that decision was ultimately up to her. All he could do was ensure she had a comfortable place to decompress.

When she threw herself on the couch with a huff, he sat beside her and took off her boots. She let out a long sigh. “Ugh, that feels so nice…I was too tired to do it.”

He set her boots to the side and sat back up, resting his elbow against the back of the couch. “You need anything? A snack? A massage? Warm towel?”

Susan snickered breathlessly with her eyes closed. “Nothing right now, thank you. Maybe in a few moments I’ll be hungry.”

“I have all the ingredients together for everything nachos,” Lamar told her with a smile.

She grinned too. “That sounds incredible.”

“I know you love nachos,” he said and gave her a gentle poke on the arm.

After another deep breath, she opened her eyes and glanced over without turning her head. “You’re so sweet. Didn’t you have work today too?”

“Nope. My client rescheduled for Tuesday so I had all day.” Lamar leaned further into the back of the couch. “I did play with the Dicksons’ kid for a bit this morning but I think that hardly counts as work.”

“Kids are a lot of work,” Susan replied before scooting closer. “That didn’t make you want any, did it?”

They both laughed but Lamar shook his head. “Not really. It’s fun to hang out with a kid every so often but having one all the time? I think I’ll pass for now.”

“Good. I was thinking the same.” She leaned up to kiss him for the first time since coming home. “My niece is good company every other month but that’s about all I’m willing to put myself through.”

“Will she be at Thanksgiving?” He tilted his head to the side—as far as he knew, it would just be her parents. If her sister came then things could possibly look better. Like Susie, her sister was a lot more open minded and down to earth.

“Mmm…I think she’s doing dinner with her in-laws. She might swing by for a few minutes if she has time though.”

“I hope she has time.”

Susan smiled and gave him another short peck. “Me too.”

Lamar had no family of his own to invite so it would just be them and Susan’s parents. He’d cut out his adoptive parents the second he turned eighteen and never even thought about them until the topic of family was raised. He hated the looks of pity that people gave him so he tended not to mention it.

Part of him wished he could get surrogate parents out of his partners’ parents but that didn’t quite turn out either. It was unfortunate but he didn’t let it drag him down. He didn’t need a family in the sense that everyone else did. He’d survived without it and, without patting himself on the back too much, he believed he turned out well.

“I think I’m getting a little hungry now,” Susie said after a second.

“Alright. Nacho time.” Lamar smirked.

“Need help?”

He shook his head before patting her on top of hers. “You just sit here and relax. It’ll only take a few minutes.”

She pouted a little but didn’t complain. Lamar left her in the living room and got to work on filling the biggest baking tray they had with the ingredients. The best part about making a dinner out of nachos was definitely how easy it was.

Once he tossed it in the oven, he just had to start a timer and wait.

In the meantime, he made his wife a cocktail—even tossing a cherry in the glass to make it fancy. He didn’t drink but they kept a couple of different kinds of liquor around the house for her.

After the nachos were done, he started to carry out everything in waves, starting with the drinks. Susan’s eyes lit up at the sight of her cocktail, as he expected, and he got another kiss out of it. Then he came back with the tray of nachos and set it on the coffee table.

“I got a movie for us to watch too,” Lamar told her as he settled in. “I don’t know if it’s any good but…”

Susan smiled and shook her head. “Doesn’t matter. I’ll have fun anyway.”

He returned her smile—he felt the same.

As long as they were together, any movie would be worthwhile. If it was truly a good movie then they’d enjoy it on that basis alone and, if it was a bad movie, they could make fun of it together. No matter what, they were guaranteed a good time.