#something abnormal and awesome

[dykebenry]

to everyone who makes genderweird benrys, especially genders that dont exist within human understanding..

thank you

[abnormalpsychology]

thrilling sequel to my poll from back in January

[the-magicians-ravens]

in other news One (1) drunken conversation with friends and suddenly i have been thrown into another asexuality crisis

[cape-wearing-enigma]

always so jarring when examples of “not picking up on social cues” given on lists of autism symptoms are things that i fully thought were completely normal widely accepted behavior that i do regularly

[shurikthereject]

Bagginshieldtober day 19: Consort! Bilbo looks awesome in dwarven attire and Thorin's very, very into it, much to Dis's dismay XD

Not really proud of this one but im just happy to be able to finally post something. I took an abnormally big break (for me) from drawing since school and work got in the way and im sorry about not being consistent with the prompts, requests and posting. BUT! Im think that i might post more often after taking the break, or at least i hope so lol.

[melwnst]

────── ⋆⋅☆ DATING SAM WINCHESTER HEADCANONS

⭑.ᐟI’m finally back! Here’s dean’s version:) we’re like 10 followers away from being 200 on this blog, it means the world to me. Thanks for being so supportive x pls interact and send requests! :)

word count. 840

Supernatural masterlist/my full masterlist/support my work!

──────────୨ৎ──────────

⭑.ᐟHe loves getting you flowers any occasion he has. Because you live such an abnormal life, he likes to be normal with you from time to time. He’ll even take you on dates to see whatever movie looks good just so he can have one normal evening pretending you lead normal lives and aren’t hunters.

⭑.ᐟhe reads to you when you can’t fall asleep. He’s so precious because even if he’s exhausted he won’t go to bed until he knows that you’re asleep safe and sound next to him. So if you’re having a bad night and can’t fall asleep, he’ll tell you to lay on his chest and read to you whatever book he picks first, it doesn’t really matter because they’re all books that both of you love.

⭑.ᐟhe gets so distracted when you’re in the same room researching, whether it’s in a motel, the bunker, or even a library, usually he can’t stop looking up and staring at you which makes researching very hard because he can’t concentrate.

⭑.ᐟhe loves rough sex but he needs sweet and slow love making from time to time. If he’s too tired but he wants you, or on days where you’re both sore from the hunt but need each other in desperate ways.

⭑.ᐟon the other hand, when it’s rough, the aftercare is so awesome it’s almost just as good as the sex. You won’t have to lift a finger. Need water? Sam’s got it. Need a hot shower? He’ll even wash your body, you only have to stand there. The cuddling is great, he hates not holding you.

⭑.ᐟcar sex🤭 he loves that. He’d be capable of renting a car just so he can take you right in the backseat.

⭑.ᐟokay.. so counter sex? Like on a kitchen counter? On the table? If he wants you? He’ll take you right then and there. SHOWER SEX? Now that’s something Sam craves almost everyday.

⭑.ᐟhe’ll never miss a chance to tell you he loves you and how important you are to him. Like it’s almost annoying in ways that he ALWAYS tells you as if you don’t know. You think it’s cute though. He needs you to know that he desires you, and wants you. He finds A LOT of different ways to make you feel special, he’s great at it.

⭑.ᐟhe loves cooking with you. Even baking. Doesn’t matter what it is, as long as he can throw some flour on you and make fun of you, or as long as he’s just with you in this moment he doesn’t mind doing literally anything because he enjoys your company too much and he hates being away from you.

⭑.ᐟhe’s so clingy… it’s very cute but when I say clingy I mean CLINGY AF!!!!!!!!

⭑.ᐟhe loves long mornings by your side laying in bed. Exhibit A. He gets to kiss you, hold you without a single worry in the world. He gets to enjoy that time before you both get into dangerous situations while hunting.

⭑.ᐟhe won’t admit it but he loves watching horror movies. Even the bad, stupid ones. Like I think he’s genuinely a horror fan. Maybe not so much of a gore fan, but ghosts and slashers. Ghosts specifically so he can nitpick and point out everything they do wrong because he obviously knows how to take care of them. It’s so funny.

⭑.ᐟif you’re small, he’ll take pride in his height and tease you about it all the time because he’s just so much taller.

⭑.ᐟhe loves holding your hand. Doesn’t matter if it’s just under the table at dinner, across the table when researching, in bed even while sleeping, he has to hold your hand. It brings him comfort and eases his stress and nerves for some reason.

⭑.ᐟthere’s not a single thing you’ve told him that he forgot. Whether it’s things you like or dislike, habits, embarrassing stories from when you were a child… he has it all kept in a drive in his head. He never wants to forget.

⭑.ᐟhe adores stargazing with you. Like he’ll be looking at the stars, then look down on you. You’ll be so concentrated on the sky, he’ll take his time to really stare at you, take in your features and realize how much he loves you. If you happen to catch him staring, you’ll laugh, say ‘what?’ And he’ll get super flustered and embarrassed. He’ll be like ‘nothing, you’re just beautiful.’ blush and look away AHHHHHHH

⭑.ᐟif you happen to be sick… he’ll be very happy. He hates that you’re sick- but taking care of you might be his favorite thing ever and sometimes you don’t let him. Now that you’re sick- you can’t refuse his care, so he’ll do every single little thing he knows you like. He’ll buy you tons of things to make you feel better, he’ll hold you even when you protest because you don’t want him to get sick. You being sick might just be his favorite time with you. He’s a weird guy. EXHIBIT B!!

[damneddamsy]

FALLING. RATING Explicit (18+ only) PAIRING Joel Miller x BIPOC OFC (Leela) FORMAT & SETTING Joel's POV & Post-TLOU Jackson AU WORD COUNT PER CHAPTER approx. 12,000+ STATUS Complete

SUMMARY It is said that every saint has a past, and every sinner has a future. Now, Joel Miller wasn’t looking to be a saint. Trust was a liability. Love, a memory too painful to keep. But if a sinner like him still had some future, and if that future starts with one night—a baby’s relentless cries cracking through his walls and breaking him open—then maybe, just maybe, he hadn’t lost everything yet. Against all instincts, he steps into that big, white house across his street. Nothing drives Joel to linger, but he does. For the baby at first—nascent Maya, with her bright eyes and fistfuls of Joel’s collar. Then, the strange new mother. What begins as an uneasy coexistence grows into something deeper, which neither of them dares name. Haunted by a narrative she never chose, brilliant but reclusive, Leela’s mind runs into the theoretical—proofs, patterns, chasing solutions to an unsolvable equation—while Joel’s hands are scarred by the practical: protecting, killing, enduring. When that peace becomes fleeting, when a fragile hope in the shape of a mathematical discovery begins to bloom, and the world, as always, threatens to take it away, Joel confronts what it means to fall—not just into the impossible, but into love, into hope, into the fragile rhythms of Leela and Maya’s life, and their quiet home that becomes a rare thing in this decaying tomorrow: a reason to stay. This is a story of healing, found family, and the abnormal, slow math of love—how we factor grief, multiply hope, balance the unknowns, it never adds up but somehow makes perfect sense.

INDEX (might be subject to change as the story progresses.)

part i -> EVENT HORIZON

part ii -> MICROFRACTURE

part iii -> FALSE EQUILIBRIUM

part iv -> MINIMUM VIABLE HOPE

part v -> RECONSTRUCTION ALGORITHM

part vi -> LIMIT APPROACHES GRACE

part vii -> FREEFALL FUNCTION

part viii -> SOFT INFINITY

part ix -> STITCH THEORY

interlude

part x -> DECOHERENCE

part xi -> ZERO CROSSING

part xii -> THEOREM OF BECOMING

part xiii -> HEURISTIC BLOOM

part xiv -> THE FINAL INTEGRATION

epilogue

acknowledgements

FALLING MOODBOARD (a huge bear hug, thank you and shoutout to the incredible @jolapeno !!)

FALLING MOODBOARD (2) (so many kisses and so much love to the talented, sweet @mrsmando !!)

CHARACTER STUDY A deep dive into Joel, Maya, and Leela, answering an ask from one of my sweetheart friends @jodiswiftle who followed along!

AUTHOR'S NOTE Have loads of fun with this masterlist! took me a while to think up a different way to potray these chapters, I'm so glad it came through so great!

TAGS your (ultimate) fix-it fic, The Dad™️ Joel, softest Joel you've ever seen, he is also an old yearner cuntstruck hardass, Joel being down bad for a teeny baby girl, OFC is arabic, OFC being an academic nerd and STEM girlie, the cutest baby (Maya) ever, baby is an actual character, Miller family dynamics, Tommy-Joel-Ellie hooliganisms, life in Jackson town, Ellie being the generally awesome older sister, neighbours-to-lovers trope, found family, slowburn, a lot of math references, lotsa door metaphors, epistolary interlude.

CONTENT WARNINGS eventual smut (the whole kaboodle), big griefs, depression, unbearable angst, violence, gore, blood, alcoholism, substance abuse, post-natal depression, the pains of motherhood, mentions of rape and suicide, childbirth.

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Azul Ashengrotto - Room Relaxation Vignette

"Happy Birthday"

[Beside Mister S's Mystery Shop]

Azul: Now then, however should I go about garnering interest in tomorrow's sale? Oh, who is that I spy over there…?

Azul: Epel-san, hello! This may be a little out of left field, but have you any interest in the Mostro Lounge's latest campaign sale?

Epel: Aaahh!? Oh… Hello, Azul-san. What campaign…?

Azul: You see, tomorrow is my birthday. And I was looking for some way to show how grateful I am towards everyone.

Azul: That's why, for tomorrow only, we've decided to slash our food and drink prices to discount rates at the Mostro Lounge!!

Epel: A discounted rate!? So, how much of a deal would you say we'd be getting?

Azul: Behold! One drink off the drink menu can be ordered for free.

Azul: In addition, all food items are 10% off. Parties of 3 or more will receive 20% off!

Epel: 20% off for groups of 3 or more…!? Awesome! That's good to know. I will definitely come tomorrow!

Azul: Wonderful! I do hope you come with your friends… and of course, your ESTEEMED POMEFIORIAN UPPERCLASSMEN. We await your patronage!

[Octavinelle Dorm – Azul's Room]

Azul: Both my academic activities and the Lounge's closing duties have finished successfully. I appreciate it when everything ends smoothly like today.

Azul: Now then, what documents do I still have left to look over…? Oh, is this from the Headmage? What could it possibly be?

Azul: A warning regarding the care of the apple trees? Who cares… is what I'd like to say, but if I leave this for later, it could become a bigger problem. I'll send a notification to the others in the dorm.

[message sent beep]

Azul: It looks like there was some trouble between some dormmates… There was a single incident today, between freshmen. It seems those four-person rooms are more prone to these little fights.

Azul: In regards to their individual arguments… Nothing really stands out as dire. I'll just write out a few suggestions on how to handle it going forward and send it on.

Azul: Next, let's look at the Lounge's report… Fufu, today's sales were in top form.

Azul: Our plan for tomorrow should bring us an abundance of customers. We may be selling at a discounted price, but that should be enough to draw in new folk.

Azul: That is, especially if Epel-san is true to his word and brings his dormmates… Specifically Vil-san!

Azul: If we were to slap on a label to every dish he orders as "Vil Schoenheit's recommendation!"…

Azul: There's no way there wouldn't be a massive increase in foot traffic. THIS IS A HUGE CHANCE FOR AN INFLUX OF NEW CUSTOMERS!

Azul: The Lounge's operations for the day will need to change depending on whether he shows up or not. I'll have to double-check all of tomorrow's preparations once again.

Azul: I'll run a few simulations in my mind while showering. All time is precious and should be used efficiently, after all.

Azul: Heheheh… I've come up with a fantastic plan. With this, tomorrow will be perfectly executed.

Azul: Now I feel I can spend tonight at ease.

[Octavinelle Dorm – Azul's Room]

Azul: What is the radio playing at this time of night…? Ah, an economics news program. How perfect to play in the background while I finish my assignments.

Azul: Today's Enigmics assignment is rather tough. It'll be good to have something to listen to in between answering questions…

Azul: …Oh, a watchmaker from the Queendom of Roses has a product up for pre-release, I see. I had heard that it was in development…

Azul: As it is the first new product in two years, I'm sure the stock prices will be affected. I should keep it on a watch list as I learn more about stocks.

Azul: …An apparel maker from the Shaftlands is experiencing difficulties? It seems the abnormal climate is the source of the issue… Hm.

Azul: That most likely means that other products may end up affected as well. For example, agricultural products…

Azul: Perhaps I should re-look at the Headmage's missive from earlier. There may be something useful there.

Azul: Oh? This formula looks like… Ah, yes, I should apply what I learned from that other problem. It's much easier to understand when I look at the bigger picture.

Azul: That reminds me, that business proprietor I met at a seminar the other day had mentioned a movie revolving around the person who came up with this very well-known formula.

Azul: It could be a good topic of conversation for the next time we meet, and I may even learn something new.

Azul: I'm sure it would help with this assignment as well, and it would be a good change of pace. I'll play the movie and lower the radio volume…

Azul: Perfect. I'll continue working on reviewing my Enigmics lessons and preparing for next class until the radio program ends at 22:00.

Azul: …That concludes the radio broadcast. I suppose I should work on "this" while I finish watching the movie.

「Survey on Quality of Life Improvements for the Student Body」

Azul: I've improved any and all issues I've had myself. I can't say I have any real dissatisfaction during my time here, but if I were to pick one thing…

Azul: I suppose it would have to be the troublesome formalities I have to go through to leave Sage's Island.

Azul: Every single time I'd like to attend a business seminar, or a social gathering, I am required to report to and gain approval from the Headmage.

Azul: Not only do I have to jot down the destination and purpose of the visit every single time, but the approval process is much too slow. And the most irritating thing about needing to write these applications in far in advance over and over again…

Azul: Is that even if a highly competitive and sought-after seminar announces that they've increased attendee capacity the day before the event, I couldn't possibly gain approval in time!

Azul: In the first place, why should we go through this whole process just to leave campus? If only they'd trust us students a little more.

Azul: The academy should provide students with more independence. I'll also add a few comments on the benefits of doing so.

[fervent writing]

Azul: That's it for the survey. What else do I have left to deal with for today…?

Azul: Aah, here's a birthday card. It seems there are some thoughtful people out there.

Azul: I would rather avoid any debts I may incur by receiving gifts, but I do appreciate cards that could help build connections. Let me see, who sent these cards…?

Azul: This one is from a Mostro Lounge business partner, this one is from someone I met at a seminar… Oh, and here's some from clients I've worked with in the past, as well.

Azul: Heh… With every bit of effort, my web of business contacts keeps growing. However, this isn't enough. It isn't nearly enough.

Azul: I've decided. I will absolutely make it my goal to have this school loosen its rigorous rules on leaving campus so that I can make plans on my free days at a spur of the moment.

Azul: Even if I can just make my way to one new social gathering, it will expand my connections even more. If I do that…

Azul: One day, it wouldn't be farfetched to think I'd be swimming in an ocean of birthday cards! Heheh… Hahahah…!

Azul: AAAHAHAHAHAH!!

[Octavinelle Dorm – Azul's Room]

[bubble, bubble… clink]

[clank]

Azul: Mm…

Azul: What's that sound…? Ah, the newspaper's here…

[puts on robe with a flourish]

Azul: Delivered, as always, perfectly on time. It's all thanks to this newspaper that I am able to wake up today as my usual time.

Azul: I've changed it up many times, but it seems this is the perfect amount of sleep for me in the end… I feel completely refreshed.

Azul: Now then, let me see what fascinating news I can glean from the newspaper today.

Azul: I think I'll drink something warm as I look through it.

Azul: Nnnn… I've finished reading all the articles that caught my eye, so I suppose I should start getting ready for the day.

[Azul magicks his hair up]

Azul: I'll adjust the water temperature to be lukewarm… Ah, still too hot. …Good, this is just right.

[splash, splash…!]

Azul: My skincare routine is as usual… Next, it's time for the makeup. Each little detail counts.

Azul: After all, visual appearance makes up 55% of the impression other people get from you.

Azul: People's eyes are drawn especially to the neck up. I need to use my makeup to give a strong aura so as to not be looked down by anyone.

Azul: I'll draw the eyeliner in a sharp line, and the eyeshadow and eyebrows should be drawn so as to give my eyes an almond-looking shape.

Azul: A bit of an intimidating look should suffice. That way, when I take a bit more of a sincere stance, it would be easier for the impression to change in my favor.

Azul: Now, for my lips… I should use this "Ocean-Proof Lip Balm" designed around the Sea Witch that I bought recently.

Azul: While it has a wonderful moisturizing effect, it doesn't rub off easily whatsoever. Since there's no need for me to reapply it every so often, it's perfect for someone with a busy schedule like myself.

Azul: Finally… The most important part is the shading and contour. Based on this application, the face can take on a completely different appearance.

Azul: If it's done too lightly, there won't be any effect; and sometimes it can have the opposite look of what was intended.

Azul: However, if the shading is applied too dark while trying to give the face a more angular look, it could end up looking strange.

Azul: Start the contour from the cheeks and apply a tone that is only a tad darker than my skin color to help create that natural shade...

Azul: Try to make it look as natural as possible, as if nothing had been applied at all… The trials and errors I've suffered getting to this current application method is numerous.

Azul: It's apparent that there's worth even in studying proper cosmetics.

Azul: …My hair is good to go now, as well. All that's left is to determine the perfume I'll use today…

Azul: Because of the campaign we're having today, I will most likely be on the Lounge floor as well. I should select a more reserved scent, then.

Azul: Right. I think I'll select this cologne with a herbal note that I've taken a liking to recently.

Azul: It's not too sweet, nor is the scent too strong… The herbal aroma also firmly plants the feeling that I truly am on land.

[spray, spray…]

Azul: Good. There is not a single thing out of place. I look perfect, as usual.

[Main Street]

[Heartslabyul Student chats with Azul]

Azul: Yes, thank you very much. We should talk again should we have the opportunity…

Epel: Ah… There he is. Azul-san, good morning!

Azul: Oh my, Epel-san. Good morning. Is there something you need of me…? Ah, does it have something to do with the Lounge?

Epel: Ah, not really. I mean, I did think I should give you a heads up because there's gonna be a lot more of us than I thought, but actually…

Epel: I realized I wasn't able to wish you a happy birthday yesterday. So, I just wanted to say, Happy Birthday!

Azul: Oh, my… Heh, thank you so kindly. Well then, I shall definitely have a table reservation awaiting you at the Lounge.

Requested by @oya-oya-okay.

[kings-highway]

Shameless self promotion. It's late at night and I've decided to Top 5 rank my Haikyuu one shots. Ranked mostly by what I consider my better writing, but also based rather arbitrarily on which ones I'm proudest of or feel best to me.

5. "You Can't Play Volleyball In a Blizzard"

- my only Kagehina focused one-shot, i love everything about it, I think the choice to go with kagehina instead of my usual ships really works for this concept. This one narrowly beat out Bokuto's Birthday and Astrophilia for this placement.

4. The Magazine King

- oikawa being pretty and iwa being abnormal about it. what more could I have possibly asked for? I want to write more fics like this one. It just feels more like fanfiction in the best way.

3. Unforgivable Acts

- i would write 10,000 fics about Ushijima punching people who hurt Tendou and you know what? maybe I will. I just love the format of this fic and Ushijima being a quirky little bitch is always great.

2. Daichi, "Dearest"

- 80% of the comments on this one are people praising it for being the most in-character fic ever and I think they're right. I think i've never written a fic more in-character than this one, and kuroo gives daichi a handjob. So idk how those two things are true at once but they are.

1. Imperfect Facial Symmetry

- I don't think I need to justify this one. Artist Ushijima. Self-conscious Tendou. A dangerous level of autism. Cat drawings. Its perfect. Tendou's POV brings out something in me that makes me want to scream and my only regret is that it isn't longer.

---

Me tagging this post: oh my god I don't need to tag daisuga.

Feels like sacrilege but ig it's true. Its not my fault I usually give my Daisuga more than one chapter 🥲 Catfish and Justice for the Day We Met are both awesome too I just... I was only picking five...

[needlbeetl]

I made another WOF oc because im apparently autistic or something

This is Blackfrost, a female Icewing with a condition called Melanism. (a condition where too much melanin is produced in an organism.)

don't mind i just used the base to color her

Also some extra stuff with her that i drew. i believe because of her abnormal color scheme, nobody believes she's a full-blooded icewing.

Thank you @the-trash-phrog for helping me come up with this youre awesome sauce

[sadcabbages]

I'm gonna explain how I see the Stan twins romantic orientations/sexualities (but mostly romantic orientations) for a moment so bear with me here. Ramble incoming!

So a pretty...I want to say common...? headcannon/interpretation for Stanford Pines is that he is aromantic, aroace, asexual and the like. And while I can and do respect that headcanon it isn't my personal interpretation of his character and here's why:

So first of all I will admit that I do ship Ford with Bill and Fiddleford and yes, guilty as charged I am less likely to adopt an aspec headcanon of him due to that but there are other reasons and I'm going to explain but first: the character that I do consider to be aromantic: Stan Pines.

"But wait!" You ask "What about lazy Susan and Carla Mccorkle?" Ah, you see there's where the arospec identity lithromantic comes in!

Lithromantic is when you do experience romantic attraction but have no desire for it to be reciprocated. Feelings may vanish after they are reciprocated. Familiar?

So first of all, sick ass aromantic headcanon for awesome character that makes sense. Second of all, how it would fit in with his character and trauma and the like.

Stan Pines is known as Mr Mystery. But he knows himself as more like Mr. Scewup. Maybe not the best analogy I could have applied there but it gets the point across. Due to all the people in his life and the recurring narrative he has unfortunately slipped into, he sees himself fail over and over.

And that's why I feel like it's a great thing for the character. As you probably know, romantic relationships are seen as the greatest thing ever and that everyone should pursue them. Lack of a romantic relationship beyond a certain age is seen as sad for some reason.

So Stan with this romantic attraction he does feel gets stuck in starting relationships and never following through, trying to pursue this thing that's for some reason seen as just basic humanity and failing and failing and failing which goes along nicely with his already existing life story, the aromantic seasoning on the top of the shit show.

Why can't he just follow through? Why can't he just commit? Why does everyone leave him and why is it always his fault? No, no it's just that he hasn't found his big break yet, you'll see, you'll all see!

Meanwhile his twin brother Ford is facing the same commitment problem except orange, in a different flavour and baked in a different gelatin mould. Goddammit that's a second, more weird analogy.

You see I feel like he deals with some good old internalised homophobia.

Concerning Fiddleford Mcgucket- Bill Cipher too but he comes later.

You see Ford has always had something to hide from prying, judging eyes. His abnormal, ultimately harmless six fingered hands.

Fiddleford he's known since University (I'm Australian goddammit it's uni, it's university IT'S UNIVERSITY) And that's after he's already lost his best friend. He doesn't want to blow it.

And then his best friend and gay crush gets married. Yeah that's fine. That's what a respectable man does after all. Yeah. He's not jealous why would he be jealous at all he isn't at all jealous!! So he does what any sane man would do and call up his bestie to join his emo band- uh, make a giant transpolydimensionalwhateverthefuck in his basement. In his shack in the woods. Alone. Together. Great.

In my personal interpretation they didn't have an established romantic relationship. They were gay for each other, sure. They both wanted to be together, sure- but Fiddleford's married status and internalised homophobia and Stanford's unwillingness to lose his best friend AGAIN and internalised homophobia prevented them from actually entering a relationship. Also it was the 80s. And it really does fit in with the themes of Gravity Falls if you think about it, all these themes of being true to yourself and outside judgement and societal pressure and whatnot.

And so they are close, SO FUCKING CLOSE to having what they want because they have this weird alloromantic urge to be in a relationship with the person or whatever but they can't say it.

And then Bill Cipher comes along,

Bill Cipher presents himself as "safe". Oh Fordsy, you're so smart, Fordsy they were all wrong for bullying you and surpressing your genius, Sixer I'm so glad that dumb brother is out of the way so you can unlock your true potential, Fordsy I don't like your lab partner he's getting in the way, Sixer you're safe here, I'm a muse outside of societal structure and I'm an alien anyway, plus it's only in the mindscape we can do whatever you want- you see what I'm saying?

He's "safe".

So he pushes his friends away, tears himself up working on the portal and lets himself get manipulated because he's in love with him! And as the living tombstone said "Love is blind when you are staring at the sun"

And then Fiddleford leaves.

Fiddleford leaves, meaning that once again everything he's worked for is gone, once again a loved one is gone, once again Bill was right, they'll just all leave you in the end, all you need is good ol' reliable Bill Cipher!

And it all comes back to a child holding his six-fingered hands behind his back in case the bullies came.

(Gasp for air) SO!!! In conclusion, as well as mlm headcanons being a great potential for angst and kicking ass, aromantic headcanons also have a great potential for angst and kick ass!

Also I could headcanon Ford as some kind of aspec identity, go suggest something, go nuts! It's like 3am for me tho so..........I'm going to....go....now. BUH-BYE!!!!!!!

........is this even coherent?

[ilikekidsshows]

What pissing me off about Adrien and Chloe salter is how everytime they losing argument they always go, "It wasn't that deep/it just a kid show. They weren't real."

Bitch, because it's a kids show many of us are hung up with miraculous sending dubious messages. And even if these kids aren't real many of them cursed salter using argument people irl use to undermine very real abuse real children often suffer.

Like, on top of my mind I could recall:

1. They're rich so their live must be perfect and going on and on about how Chloe got many gifts from his father and Adrien is famous! Like, no. Gabriel and Andre are the rich one. Chloe like gifts but it could never replace parental attention that's why she's such an attention seeker and Adrien straight up uncomfortable with his fame.

2. They crave their parents attention they must be okay with this! As if fawn isn't one of the most common trauma response. As if it's abnormal for children wanting their parents love.

3. A child helping his parents is normal! Yeah, if it's on moderation and not overworked with busy schedules with school, courses, and such a demanding cutthroat job that is entertainment industry. Mind you, many of this fuckers bend over backwards saying Marinette got abused because she's helping her parents once in awhile. No hate to her for this. I don't like her but this wasn't something I hold her against because wanting to focus on your passion and helping when you have free time is okay. It just a bummer her passion now less on fashion and wooing Adrien and more on controlling Adrien and Chat Noir (that she didn't know is the same person).

4. Adrien only allowed to have Chloe and Felix, family friend daughter and his own cousin growing up isn't isolation actually! He literally allowed to go to public school! Yeah, after only allowed having two friends and home schooled growing up. Hell, the only reason Adrien get to go public school is because Adrien go out his way sneaking and forging paperwork with Chloe's help and randomly taking him out of it and revealing this are going to break Adrien and Gabriel fake ass perfect image.

5. It wasn't abuse because it wasn't physical/sexual! They just stern parents! As if abuse only serious if it's one of these two. News flash, Assholes. Isolation, Neglect, Verbal Abuse, Child Labor, and Spousification, is very much a real abuse actual children suffer. Also, Gabriel did abuse him physically everytime he suspect/found out he's Chat Noir. And no just because it's Alternate Timeline doesn't mean it doesn't count. This fandom insistent to ignore alternate timeline unless it gave Marinette excuses pissed me off.

There are probably other things I don't list but this is the most common ones I hear.

---

Yeah, like, the problem is the blatant abuse apologia that's coming from both the creators and the people defending their decisions and the show. They’re all constantly moving the goalposts for what counts as abuse because they want to excuse the characters harming the abuse victims in this show. Because, like, “Adrien is a victim of child abuse” didn't used to be a hot take, it was generally accepted canon, even by the show’s creator, and the idea that Chloé's family life sucks and informs a lot of her behavior was also accepted (it was the literal narrative the show was selling with episodes like ‘Despair Bear’), even though people were already being a bit weird over whether or not it should be called abusive.

Then the writers decided that Gabriel and André were awesome actually, so let's ignore all the ways they’ve mentally and emotionally harmed their children because can't you see how hard life is for them, dear audience? Please get invested in them so that we can tell their story/the show’s backstory that we actually want to tell! They also made Marinette either benefit from the ways Adrien has been abused or perpetuate it with how she's gaslighting Adrien about his abuser and caused Chloé to end up stuck with her chief abuser to punish her for bullying her. And that, in turn, got the Marinette apologists joining the abuse apologia to defend their favorite character. Even the more reasonable Marinette stans will sometimes minimize the harm being caused because they're uncomfortable admitting Marinette could be an abuse apologist or perpetuating abuse, so they try to fudge up what these words mean until the definition is narrow enough to exclude Marinette.

And, like, that's commonly why abuse apologia happens in real life too: people defending someone they see as too sympathetic to count as an abuser. The harm the children are caused gets minimized in favor of focusing on how hard the abusers have it or what good people they are otherwise. Add to that the fact that these are fictional characters and people will bully and harass you for calling out abuse because it's killing the vibe or whatever.

And, like, that latter part is what actually, genuinely pisses me off about Maripologists: they only care about their personal enjoyment of the show and fandom. Those of us who are concerned about the abuse apologia that's spread through this fandom like wildfire are just stupid salters ruining everyone else's fun and that justifies them bullying and harassing anyone they want. We should be criticizing the abuse victims in this show because it's so unfair we're criticizing their favorite character when Adrien salt fics only outnumber Marinette's seven to one. It's all about how they feel about things and they feel that Marinette is getting constant hate from everyone even when it's just a specific group of people on tumblr and a couple of Youtubers.

I even recently saw a Maripologist claiming, and their followers agreeing vehemently, that it's such a double standard that Marinette gets hate for dehumanizing Adrien when obviously we'd be cool with it if she was a guy character, and I was just: "Sure, Jan." That's why all the gender swap AUs remove all the dehumanization, from the stalking to the abuse apologia, from Boynette's behavior, while Girldrien gets to keep all her flaws: because the double standard is that it's okay if a boy does it and not the reverse that she show is coasting on. Like, I can accept people inventing their own canon because the show is so bad, but Maripologists are inventing their own reality where Marinette's gender is the reason she's getting hate, instead of it being the only reason the general fandom is grasping at straws to ignore the literal abuse apologia instead of this show getting public backlash for its kid hero protagonist gaslighting her boyfriend about his abuser. Like, yes, it's a kids' show, but that's exactly why it pulling this shit is a problem. Miraculous being "just for kids" is why the blatant abuse apologia is a problem.

[whump-imagines]

Ice

Will & reader (could be platonic or early relationship.)

900 words

For anyone else who was missing a certain red head on Wednesday...

You felt like Bambi trying to make your way across the parking lot toward the hospital. Between sleeping through your alarm and the icy road conditions you were running very late for your shift. In your haste to get out of the house, you’d thrown on your regular shoes rather than your boots.

About halfway to the door your tractionless shoes slipped and you took a full cartoon style fall– both feet up in the air to land hard on your back. The hit knocked the wind from your lungs and it took a moment to suck in a breath.

Seconds later, the pain registered. Your back and head hurt. Before you could even think of what you should be doing next, Will was kneeling beside you.

“Don’t move,” he said. He started to run his fingers down either side of your neck in search of any abnormalities. “You hit your head pretty good. Does it hurt?”

You coughed, your lungs still trying to function properly. “Uh, yeah. My back too, kinda like up between my shoulders.”

“Okay, can you squeeze my fingers?” He placed two fingers against both your palms and you did as he'd asked. “Good, and push against my hands like you're pushing the gas pedal.” Again, you did as asked.

“Fuckin’ ice,” you muttered quietly.

“Okay. Do you think you can sit up?” Will asked.

You took another deep breath. “Yeah.” He offered his hand and very slowly pulled you into a seated position. You closed your eyes tightly as dizziness set in. “Woah.”

“Talk to me, sweetheart.”

You peeled your eyes open, locking into his concerned ones. “Just dizzy. Really dizzy.”

“You probably have a concussion,” Will suggested.

A shiver ran down your spine. “Yeah, well, won't matter if I freeze to death out here.”

Will chuckled. “We are going to move slowly. I don't need you passing out because you stood up too quickly.” He shifted so he could stand to help you up. “Ready?”

“Yup.” You winced as you straightened up, pain flaring through your back. You took half a step to get closer to Will and your feet slipped slightly. You gripped onto his arm so tightly your knuckles turned white.

“Okay, you're okay. I got ya.” He started to walk slowly and carefully towards the doors.

Once you made it to dry flooring, you sighed in relief. Will kept your hand wrapped around his arm as he headed towards the nurses station.

“Hey, Mags,” he greeted. “What's open? She took a hard fall outside.”

“Oh, sweetie.” She rubbed your shoulder gently. “Take treatment one.”

“Thanks,” said Will. “Can I get thoracic and cervical spine x-rays and a head CT?”

“And something for the pain? Please?” You asked.

“Let's get 50 micrograms of fentanyl, too,” Will added. “Oh, and a warm blanket.”

“You got it,” Maggie noted all the requests in the tablet she was holding. “Any blood work?”

“No, just the scans for now.”

About an hour later, you had finished all the scans and were trying your best not to doze off under your second warm blanket. April had brought a new one when she'd come to check your vitals.

Will came in with the tablet in his hands. “How're you feeling? In too much pain?”

You gave him a thumbs up. “I'm possibly too comfy. I'm fighting the nap hard.”

“Good news then. You can nap shortly,” he said.

“Yay!” You said lazily.

“You do have a mild concussion,” he explained. “As well as two bruised ribs. So you're stuck here for observation until at least tomorrow but you can sleep if you want.”

“Well that's gonna hurt tomorrow. Awesome,” you added sarcastically.

Will squeezed your hand gently. “At least nothing is broken. Get some rest, alright?”

“Mmhmm,” you hummed, already giving into the pull of sleep.

You had no idea how much time had passed when you woke up. It seemed a safe guess that the pain was what had roused you. It felt like someone was digging a knife into your shoulder blade and breathing made it even worse.

You groped around the bed for the call button as tears welled in your eyes. A moment later, you found it and proceeded to push it several times. April pushed the curtain back soon after.

“You're awake,” she stated.

A tear rolled down your cheek. “It hurts. It hurts a lot. I feel like I can't even breathe.”

She quickly moved closer and took your hand. “Just squeeze as hard as you need to. Take slow breaths.” Within a few minutes she had calmed you down quite a bit. “I'm gonna go find someone to get you something for the pain. I'll be right back.”

She leaned out the door and you heard her tell someone that you needed something for pain. Will came in a second later and gave April a dosage for morphine.

“That should help,” he started. “I'll make sure to get you a prescription before we send you home too. Sound good?”

“Thanks, Will,” you said. He took your hand. “What would I do without you?”

He laughed. “Probably would have just frozen to death in the parking lot. So my shift is over soon and you're getting moved upstairs. What do you say to some pizza and a movie?”

“Ooh, yes. Please! Hamburger, bacon and extra cheese for me.”

“Okay. I'll see you upstairs in an hour or so.”

[nikethestatue]

Not Another Hallmark Christmas Story

TW: PLEASE REMEMBER THAT THIS IS A DARK STORY. It contains stalking, gaslighting, mental and emotional abuse and sexual assault.

Happy Birthday @elrieldreamer Have an awesome day!

Chapter 3

‘Tis was the night…

I was surprised when she came to the office on Monday. I figured she’d take a day off to mope and question her life choices. I figured she’d wonder if she was sexually assaulted. I figured she’d wrestle with the knowledge that she was and then, she’d question herself, and wonder why she didn’t hate it. 

And yes, I am the first one to admit that I sexually assaulted her. And I know that she was plagued by doubts and questioned everything that she knew about herself. 

I am not a rapist. For the most part, I like women. I very much like smart women, who are curious about the world and who can hold an interesting conversation. I am a fan of women who have a sense of humour, who can surprise me with their knowledge, and who are current on all world affairs, and who don’t showcase their lives on Instagram. I like women who have some confidence, but who aren’t overly confident. And most of all, I like women who are naturally submissive and yearn to be dominated without knowing that they do. I am not a dom, and I am not a rapist. I like to be in control. And I like to watch a woman yield to me, accept my control over her, and ultimately, submit. 

And there are so very few women out there who fit the bill. 

I tried. G-d knows I tried. 

I've never been in a relationship that lasted longer than a few months. Sometimes, it was only a few days. The women inevitably disappointed. I didn’t know exactly what I was looking for and who’d fit the bill–trial and error, they say. I tried many. And erred with all of them. They all thought that it was a game that I dabbled in. And that if they played along, I’d eventually get it out of my system and the next step would be a ‘normal’ life. An engagement ring. A lavish wedding. A penthouse. A suburban estate. 2.7 children. A golf club membership. Lunches. Charities. Galleries.

None understood that this is who I am. I am not a guy who likes rough sex. I am not abnormal either. I don’t have a kink to work through. I don’t get any joy in hurting females. I simply know what I want and what I desire, I get. 

What I’ve wanted from the moment I laid eyes on her was my Elain.

I know that I would’ve noticed her regardless of circumstances, because to me, she was unmissable. She was striking and so quiet and uncomfortable.

Our building has a cafeteria, however, most of us eat in the break room on our floor. I remember the day I saw her very clearly. It wasn’t some throwaway moment in my life. It is etched in my mind with crystal clarity. Because somehow, I knew that it was important. When I saw her, it was important to me. 

In fact, I heard her first. Isaac Hale, the skinny nerd on the team, was solving the New York Times crossword puzzle at the table, his lunch forgotten. Others were eating, or milling around and chatting. I knew that some of these people would be on my team, so I figured that I’d make an appearance and have them get used to me and my presence, though I wasn’t going to make any formal introductions just yet. Let them stew. Let them worry. I have that effect on people–I make them nervous. 

I was grabbing a water from the fridge, when I overheard Isaac’s exasperated moan, 

“Ruling family of Monaco?” 

Before I could turn around and see what the hell he was talking about, I heard a small, quiet voice say ‘Grimaldi’. 

“What?” Isaac called out, confused. I looked out at the break room and heard again, 

“The ruling family of the Principality of Monaco are the Grimaldis.”

Isaac furiously scribbled something in the newspaper and cried out ‘yeah they are! Thanks, El!’’

El.

El?

I craned my neck slightly to see who the elusive ‘El’ was, and finally spotted a lonesome figure who was sitting by the window, reading a Kindle, drinking Seltzer water, a half eaten salad in front of her, which clearly didn’t hold her attention. There were two guys at the same table–I didn’t know their names–but they clearly wanted to be there, and were peacocking like two douchenozzles in front of her. She paid them no heed. In fact, before I could even approach her to have a better look, she got up swiftly from her chair, grabbed her half-eaten salad and offered the two men a strained, close-mouthed smile, and hurried away from the table.

I stilled. I stood there, dumbfounded, because I was brought to my knees by her beauty. 

I stood there, watching the most breathtaking woman walk towards me, her round hips swaying sexily, her full, glorious tits bouncing beneath a cobalt-blue silk blouse. She wore a slightly flared pleated skirt and nude pantyhose, her feet clad in less than sensible nude pumps. 

Her cheeks were very pink. She was uncomfortable. Long golden brown hair was tied into a neat, appropriate bun. 

She scurried by me, without lifting her eyes, clutching the tablet to her chest. She passed by me like I didn’t exist. And I know that I am hard to miss–I am tall and I take up a lot of space. I wore a black suit too, hovering around everything like a dark cloud, gobbling up space. I liked that. I also knew that my appearance piqued the attention of many women. Should I sound conceited? I am handsome. I think it’s dumb to pretend that I am not, and not use it to my advantage. I am handsome, tall and in good shape. It was simply unfathomable that she wouldn't pay attention to me…that she wouldn’t notice me. She didn’t though. She just tiptoed by, ignoring me like I was a piece of furniture. 

And that was that.

Because she was so freaking oblivious to everything, I allowed myself the opportunity to watch her for a few days. She never noticed it. They say that women can always sense predators, but either she didn’t consider me one, or her danger radar was at zero. I wasn’t sure what the deal was. 

But she came in early every day, arriving by train, without coffee, and not wearing sensible shoes. She dressed well–long camel coats, a Burberry scarf, expensive Oxfords, which she exchanged for pumps when she was in the office. Tuckernut dresses–not too outrageous, but not cheap either. I knew how much she made–well into the low six figures–and that explained how she could afford the wardrobe. She didn’t drink Starbucks. She avoided it and would sometimes wrinkle her nose when someone suggested that she come and get Starbies with them. It was amusing. No, she drank an Italian espresso from a cafe on the ground floor. At the bar, like a true Italian. She slammed it back, then got a cappuccino to go and always an almond cornetto. 

She was a diligent worker, but she still had much to learn. I knew that this was her first job out of Northwestern. She obviously was very intelligent, but experience is experience, and she didn’t have much of it. So she made mistakes and when she realised it, I could see that she was frustrated. She was clearly a perfectionist. 

I’d made my move the week that I first saw her.

There were people in the break room, eating free doughnuts that I brought, gathered by the coffee machine. Pedantically, someone announced that they wanted Starbucks instead of the break room coffee. I saw my way in and said clearly ‘I am buying’. That didn’t even make her look up from her laptop. As if she didn’t hear my voice, and an offer of a free coffee didn’t matter to her. Frustrated, I bumped into her, on purpose obviously, caging her in with my body, as I made a show of reaching for the sugar cubes that were kept in the cupboard above. I didn’t touch her, but I stood as close as possible to her, pulling her scent into my lungs. I wasn’t sure what the perfume was, but she smelled of jasmine. When I looked down, I noticed delicate golden strands within the mass of her light brown hair. Her hair was natural–she didn’t colour it. Despite my proximity, she ducked under my arm, evading me like I wasn’t there. How was this possible? She didn’t even glance up.

As the rest of the team headed out of the break room, I actually called out and asked, “Joining us?”

She didn’t look up, busy on her phone and then haughtily said, “no thank you. I don’t drink that.”

That. The offer was apparently offensive to her. 

I don’t know, I suppose it made me angry. I am well aware that my reaction was irrational, but I couldn’t understand how she didn’t bother looking at me. How my presence didn’t matter to her. How my voice didn’t interest her. Nothing about me seemed to appeal to her.

For whatever odd reason, it felt like a rejection.

Looking back now, I realise that it’s irrational. She didn’t even know who I was back then. But in the moment, it felt like she walked away from me when I tried to open up to her. I was there for her–I wanted to get to know her better, I wanted her interest. 

So I spent $138 bucks on coffee for the team that day and she didn’t even come along. 

The only plausible reason that I could think of that explained her disinterest was that she was in a relationship, and she was in love with another man.

Which, truthfully, was unacceptable.

I didn’t even consider it as a possibility, until I spotted her looking at her phone in the hallway later that day. She was smiling at whatever she was looking at, and had a doe eyed look of love on her face. I didn’t know what to do with myself then. It was like an anvil was pounding inside my head, blasting me with unwanted thoughts: she is with someone. She is in love with him. They’ll be getting married. She belongs to another man. She is smart, beautiful and successful, why would she be single?

No. This was unacceptable. No. No.

I was consumed by jealousy and resentment. And for once, at a loss at what to do. 

If she was involved with someone, I wasn’t sure what I’d do.

But just in a nick of time, I stopped myself and ordered my brain to think rationally. Difficult, under the circumstances, but not impossible. 

I didn’t stop. I didn’t even slow down. I walked, softly, like I always did, and glanced at her phone. I expected a text message from someone named ‘Mike’ or ‘Boyfriend’ or something silly like that. Instead, to my immense relief, there was an ugly flat-faced dog staring at me. It was a photo of a dog–bulldog? Pug? Frenchie? I wasn’t sure. I was too elated.

I just walked past her, grinning to myself.

It was just a stupid dog.

But boy, would I have given anything to have her phone light up with my name.

Was that the day I became obsessed?

I can’t be sure now, but I do know that this was the day when instead of driving home, I took the Blue Line, standing on the other side of the car and watched her. I mean, clearly I was doing it for her own protection. It was after 7pm, the office crowd was thinning, and this was a beautiful woman with an expensive bag and $500 dollar shoes. She was as oblivious, it seemed, as she was in the office, her nose buried in her Kindle. For the love of god, she read a lot. I wonder what it was that was keeping her attention like that? Romantasy? A Court of Thorns and Roses? The Fourth Wing? Zodiac Academy? 

My brother Cassian loves all that shit and is active on some Romantasy Discord! no less. Pretending to be a woman, I think. He also has some strong opinions about ‘ships’ - yes, he needed to explain all that to me, and once he did, I was the unfortunate springboard for his ramblings. Apparently, he was and still is into ‘Elriel’, which is not something I needed to dig deeper into. But I think it was a fantasy couple? I am not sure. But Elain seemed to be just as transfixed by her Kindle as my brother was by his. 

I watched her and saw how she smiled softly to herself from time to time. I watched her cheeks grow pink. I watched her tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. 

That was my job.

I wanted to know what page she was on, so I could read it and do that to her.

I wanted her to bite her lower lip like that, and I wanted to tuck her hair away from her face, because she was watching me. Because I was making her feel squirmy and shy. Not some beefy winged Fae warrior.

I followed her discreetly. If you want to trail someone, but look nonchalant doing it, buy yourself a cup of coffee–that puts people at ease. It’s not like a stalker would be drinking coffee or anything absurd like that! 

She stopped by Smoke Daddy and picked up a prepared bag, and fuck did I want a brisket sandwich at that moment! It would’ve been nice to go home with her, have a nice BBQ dinner, watch some news, sports, kiss, drink a couple of beers and then fuck like animals on the rug, before going to bed and falling asleep in each other’s arms. 

I had trailed her for the next ten days.

It became a routine. I got her home safe and sound, making sure that no one bothered her.

She lived in an old Chicago brown brick three-story building, but it was newly refurbished and obviously nice inside. At least it had a security system! Phew. I’d cut a bitch if it didn’t.

She didn’t have much of a social life, but I couldn’t blame her because we worked 10-12 hour days 5 days a week. And then I saw her answering emails and submitting reports until 10pm almost daily. 

A couple of times, even though she hadn’t ‘met’ me, I sent her stern instructions not to work on Friday nights or weekends. I think that scared her. Good. She should know who the boss was.

She didn’t work out, she didn’t do pilates, she didn’t run. 

She didn’t cook much either. There was a cheapish all-you-can-eat sushi place on Division that she favoured, but because she ate alone, she sat at the sushi bar. I followed her there and watched her. She played on her phone and watched dog videos on IG. Sometimes, she cried when she watched them. I wondered what made her so sad. 

She was a quiet, sad and lonely girl. For some reason, it didn’t surprise me.

The dog’s name is Chapo. He looks like a Chapo, if I am being honest. He is what is often described as ‘thicc’. A large brown-tan Frenchie, who belongs to Elain’s sister. 

By the time I’d ‘met’ Chapo, following Elain and inserting myself into her life, while she had no idea and didn’t know that she was being observed, became somewhat of an addiction. I loved it. It was secret and subversive and it gave me pleasure. Perhaps, looking back at it now, it made me feel a little less lonely. Even though I only observed her, it gave me purpose in my own life. It offered me companionship, however one-sided it was. For once, I had something better to do than worry about work. Besides, this solitary activity, which was exclusively mine, suited my character. I didn’t get bored of her boring life. It was actually kind of peaceful.

I was pleased to find that Elain was desperately single. 

Despite her prettiness, she came off as shy, but also kind of standoffish. When the weekend came, I pondered whether I should take a break from my spying, but I was not going to rest until I was assured that she didn’t have a man. Technically, it was still possible. They might have had a ‘weekend hookup’ type of a relationship. It wasn't unheard of. 

I wasn’t sure what to expect, because there was no routine on the weekend and I feared that I’d end up sitting in my car for the whole day, and she wouldn’t even come out. She seemed like a homebody type, so it was highly likely that that would happen. 

But see, the gods were in my favour.

The fact that she left the house right after I came over, following an early gym session, just cemented my belief in that this was sanctioned. That she belonged to me. That I meant to guard her and protect her and then make her mine. This wasn’t a fluke. 

When I saw her that Saturday morning, wearing jeans and a corduroy jacket, all I could do was smile. It’s like she sensed me. Like she wanted me to see her. 

She went to the bakery, got herself coffee and a whole bag of pastries–this girl was not shy about cake and pastry consumption, if I may say so myself–and then headed out. 

She was pretty oblivious to her surroundings as always, and to add to her usual ding-a-ling attitude, she had her earbuds in. Was it scary that she had no concept of her surroundings? Absolutely. Good thing, then, that she had me.

I met Chapo that very day. 

Elain and her sister met in a dog park, and chunky Chapo got a pup cup and a dog cookie. That explained the bakery bag–Elain also handed a croissant to her sister. Chapo was running around with other dogs and I heard Elain call him over as ‘Chapi’, worrying that he’d get hurt. He stood his own though, rolling around, wrestling with other dogs, and being absolutely incapable of catching a ball that Elain and her sister were tossing at him. If I am being objective, ‘Chapi’ wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, because how are you a dog and you can’t catch a ball? And then, he almost blew my cover too. I was sitting on a bench, pretending like one of the dogs was mine, and staying out of sight, until he missed his ball yet again, and it rolled towards me. Seriously, this was like the 12th time he completely failed at catching it. So he trotted towards me, his gait a bit sideways, then stopped and earnestly looked into my eyes. His big bat ears flexed and then he ‘smiled’ a huge smile at me, proud of his crooked little teeth. Before Miss Oblivious could see me, I threw the ball away and he ran after it. It’s not like she even knew who I was, because god forbid she’d pay attention and actually have any idea who her boss was, but still, better safe than sorry. 

I watched Chapo run back, with his ball finally firmly in his possession, acting like he’s been catching it all day long. Elain hefted him in her arms and rocked him like a baby, covering him with kisses. 

I’ve never been jealous of a dog, even Valentino’s pugs or the Queen’s corgis, but that day, I was jealous of Chapo the Frenchie. I also told myself that when I kissed her, she better wash her face and mouth prior. And then, as I watched her bounce Chapo on her hip, I decided then and there that she would be the mother of my children.

It was 6:37am and I entered the cafe in our office building. It was moderately busy, but I knew that Elain would be there by now. I wasn’t wrong. She was standing by the bar, and I watched the barista set an espresso in front of her. I sidled over to the bar, kind of muscling people out of my way. I wanted to see if she’d notice me now? 

‘An espresso,’ I ordered, leaning over the polished wood, pretending to check my phone.

Elain’s big brown eyes slipped over my body, her expression disinterested and absent. She tipped her tiny cup back, grabbed her bag, and the cappuccino and left with a brief ‘thanks!’ to the barista.

So much for me hoping that I’d make an impression. 

It was that day when I summoned her to my office for the first time.

She was nervous. Surprised. Unsure of herself.

I made her feel special because I wanted to build a rapport with her. I wanted her to trust me. I wanted her to come to depend on me. 

She was quiet and tense, and I could see that she didn’t know what to say to me, but I wanted to see what she’d think of on her feet. I thought that her question about how to succeed in the company was a good one. And then, to my inner sadistic delight, she absolutely hated being corrected. And I was fucking ruthless. I don’t feel bad about that. 

The Holiday Party at the North Pond was initially a drag, which morphed into animalistic anticipation once I realised that I’d have the opportunity to spend time with Elain one on one. Sure there would be eyes on us, but I knew that most people wouldn’t give us a second thought. And me? Oh, I had all sorts of ideas. 

I was going to be nice. I was going to be charming. I was going to show her a whole new side of me. The side that she’d fall in love with. The side she’d want. The side that she’d seek out for support and assistance and guidance. The side that she’d want to curl up to when she was tired and stressed. 

Tension radiated through me for the past two weeks.

I was moving into a new position with a lot more responsibilities and was going to be under more scrutiny simply because I was going to be in charge of a very large fund. It didn’t worry me per se, however, the whole Elain thing gnawed at me day in and out. She consumed me. She consumed my thoughts, she consumed my dreams. Pussy lost all meaning and attraction to me, whilst I’d beat myself off raw to the fantasy of those big brown eyes and her innocent little face. I didn’t want to fuck anything or anyone, exept for my hand to the thoughts of Elain’s perfect naked body. I wanted to find some solace, a piece of mind, a bit of tranquility in my head, but it was proving very difficult. 

…She was wearing a velvet burgundy dress. Bare arms, a deep V that lovingly displayed her gorgeous breasts and the delicious crater of her cleavage. I didn’t love the length of the dress–it was midi, which made sense in the context of a holiday party, but I would’ve preferred something shorter or floor-length. But I still admired the black and burgundy pumps and how her ankles looked when she crossed her legs.

She was unbearably sexy and I had trouble controlling myself around her, and the fact that there was entirely too much male attention on her, I was not too pleased about. I surely wanted to look at her cleavage, but it seemed that every other buffoon had the same idea. I hovered around her, getting her little plates of appetizers, talking to her, and making sure that no one else dared to approach what was my woman. Oh, they sensed it. The men: they sensed the challenge. But I am big and I am dominant and I am strong, and no one had the balls to test me, or my intentions. All of this was happening on a primal level–I don’t think that any of our co-workers actually thought that I’d be interested in my subordinate. More fools them. But they still avoided Elain for the most part, because I wasn’t looking too friendly, even if it was only instinctual. After all, we were all studs vying for the attention of the same bitch. 

-

Graysen Nolan and Gwyneth Berdara…Ugh. 

Gwyn was a junior analyst, and was probably even more clueless than Elain, and that's saying something. I don’t know how it was possible that she couldn’t read the signs of my disinterest, but alas, I guess it was my burden to carry–dealing with clueless women. 

Elain was at the bar, and I stepped away for literally a second, when I was accosted by Gwyn, who began yapping about mentorships and how she’d like for me to help her with calcs and client engagement. Girl. I am not helping anyone with calcs. I am too fucking old and basic calculations were way past my time. But I nodded and even joined her at the bar, barely tolerating the dull conversation. She was a nice, if overly eager girl, and in any other instance, I probably would’ve thought that she was hitting on me and mentorship was code word for something else entirely. But, god help me, she actually wanted me to mentor her. Wanted me to show her spreadsheets, and how to pull information efficiently, and what I thought would work best for the clients in terms of presentation. I barely heard her, because it was then that Graysen fucking Nolan sidled over to my girl and started talking to her. Clearly, he didn’t get the memo that she was off limits. She’s been throwing shy, furtive glances my way, her cute little nose wrinkling a little when she looked at Gwyn, who was babbling away next to me. 

Could it be? Could my pretty girl be a little bit jealous? However, it seems like she also didn’t the memo that she belonged to me and shouldn’t have been accepting drinks from other men.

I couldn't help but sneer at the fucking cheap drink that he got her. A GnT no less–not everyone’s favourite, and obviously not Elain’s. Graysen was oblivious though. Fucking figures. 

I was still pissed off though. Especially when Graysen–I am pretty sure about that–propositioned her. I could see how she got all red and awkward and guilty-looking. Oh yeah. Be afraid.  I was angry alright. Not that anyone could tell. I’ve learned long ago to keep my face unreadable and generally pleasant looking. So she had no idea that I was fuming inside. 

The moment she got off the bar stool and stumbled, with Graysen grabbing at her, I was done with this shit. She swayed when she walked to the bathroom and I managed to get Graysen involved in a conversation with one of the guys from Investments. By the time I turned around, Elain was back, sitting at the bar, her cheek propped on her hand, her eyes closed. I chuckled. She was drunk as a skunk.

I approached her slowly, watching her eyes pop open and look at me with a bleary expression.

“You are hammered,” I told her.

She huffed and began arguing instantly.

“I am not! I am perfectly fine.”

“Stand up then,” I ordered her and she immediately hefted herself out of her chair, attempting to stand straight. She failed. She wobbled and swayed, and I saw an opportunity when it presented itself to me. I wrapped my arm around her, resting my hand on her hip. Her soft breasts almost pressed into my chest. She was soft all over, soft and pliant and needy. I could sense it. I could’ve probably turned her around right now and hiked up her burgundy dress and exposed her lovely ass to the cold air. I probably could’ve fucked it too. I briefly pondered if she’s been fucked in the ass before, but quickly dismissed the idea as insane. I wouldn’t have been surprised if she was a virgin everywhere. I didn’t think so–some douche probably got to my cherry before me–but that didn’t stop me from imagining how I’d part her pale cheeks and watch her little pink hole quiver in terror. As it should. My hand deftly brushed against the curve of her spine, my touch light and unthreatening, and I smirked to myself, thinking that she had no idea what was on my mind. I was going to fuck her ass hard–she’d cry and beg me to stop and she’d complain that it hurts. But I’d fuck her until she’d start whimpering and whining ‘more, Azriel. Please. More.’ I’d be a gentleman, of course. I’d fuck the tiny pink hole until it was gaping from my dick. And once I was done and she was freshly ass-fucked, she’d turn to me and shyly, sweetly whisper ‘thank you, Azriel. I am yours.’ 

“Looks like you are hammered,” was all I said. My dick was getting hard and it was a little early for all that.

She was still arguing about her state of inebriation with me, though I wasn’t listening. I was inhaling her sweet floral scent, the whiff of alcohol and the burnt sugar from the creme brulee that she had for dessert. She didn’t even notice it when I placed both of my palms on her hips. When she talked, she attempted to gesticulate and in combination with her swaying, her tits jiggled and bounced. I pretended not to notice. I was going to fuck them too. I wanted to see her nipples–pink, probably, hopefully nice and plump, just like I liked it. I imagined being deep inside her tight, warm ass, pounding steadily, stretching her on my cock. I imagined her huge brown eyes watching me, blinking and wet with tears, the eyelashes sticky. I imagined her pink mouth open and gasping, whispering desperately ‘please Azriel. It hurts. It’s too big. Please. I can’t. It’s too deep. Please, no.” Of course it was going to be too big for her, and I’d burrow as deep as I possibly could. Her pleas would fall on deaf ears though–she could whine and sob all she wanted. I’d be busy sucking those jiggly tits of hers, riding her ass, making her realise who she belonged to with each thrust. 

“I am taking you home,” I said abruptly. I needed to separate from her for a second, and get myself together. My mind was running wild. 

“No, no, I can’t go with you,” she protested feebly. Like I’d listen.

She then had the audacity to add, “No, you can’t take me home. I am not allowing you to.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “I wasn’t asking for permission,” I reminded her. 

I half-dragged her to the coat room, and left her sitting there, while I went to gather all her stuff. 

I needed to figure out my next moves. 

I desperately wanted to fuck her, but it was more than that–I wanted to possess her. I wanted to own her. I wanted her to be mine. I needed her to fall for me, even despite all her reservations. She told me that she didn’t like me and that I was mean to her. It wasn’t untrue, and I could see why she’d think that, but she didn’t understand that to love me, she had to know and see all my sides. And I had way more bad sides than the good.

I kind of wanted to have her sober our first time. Where there is definitely something absolutely amazing about fucking a totally compliant woman, who’d do whatever you want her to, and I certainly wanted my Elain to be like that–giving, and obedient, and submissive. Fighting me a little, but having all her holes ready and softened for me, opening herself up to my invasion, taking everything that I was ready to give her. A bit of resistance was always nice, but I expected total submission afterwards. I knew she’d give it to me. She was naturally compliant. She was a pleaser. Dominating her would be an absolute joy. But I wanted a sober submission.

There was a way to do it: make her think that she wanted it herself. Take it. Film it. It was the most ruthless way of buying her compliance, but I wasn’t above resorting to it in order to get what I wanted. 

By the time I grabbed her stuff: purse, shawl, phone, I still hadn't made a decision on how to proceed. 

Elain was dozing off where I left her, her eyes closed, her expression peaceful.

She was so beautiful.

I told her that earlier today. I know that she was surprised to hear it. I don’t think that she was completely oblivious to her own attractiveness, but she certainly didn’t expect that kind of praise to come from me. It was amazing how she still didn’t pick up on the signs and didn’t understand that I was interested in her. 

I punched in the code on her phone and scrolled through her photos and contacts.

The photos didn’t surprise me–there were hundreds of Chapo. Chapo sleeping. Chapo sitting, Chapo running. Chapo in outfits. Chapo in a bath. Chapo eating. Elain hugging Chapo like she was about to squeeze the life out of him. There were photos of her with her sisters–I could see the resemblance even though Elain was the prettiest. Selfies in different outfits. No photos with any men. 

Her eyes opened and her expression turned dismayed. She realised what I was doing and that it was her phone and jumped from the seat, trying to grab the phone away, but she only succeeded in falling into my chest and allowing me the opportunity to hold her close, while I looked at the contacts and deleted those she didn’t need to have. She just glared at me with derision and disbelief, like this was the most shocking thing she’s ever seen. 

Lover-boy Graysen, who dared to paw at something that didn’t belong to him, was the first one to go. The thing is–Elain belongs to me. I knew it then, I know it now. But it’s not a one way street. I belong to her just as well. She is mine. But I am also hers. Graysen never played by the same rules and all he wanted to do was take her for a ride. I could ride her infinitely better than he ever could, but I’d give her much more than that. 

I deleted Eris. Isaac. Aggressively sexual Tarquin, who’s been hanging out at our break room a little too often for my liking. 

Also, did she have the names of every able bodied male in her phone? Thankfully, it didn’t seem like she was texting with anyone. Nor would she. 

“Who is Ripleigh?” I asked. “Is it a man or a woman?”

“It’s a woman. It’s my aunt!” she screeched. 

She wasn’t lying. It actually said ‘Aunt Ripleigh’ in the contacts, but I wanted to test her. I smiled, dropped the phone in her purse and went to get our coats. 

I enjoyed watching her discomfort as we walked out of the park. The poor thing really thought that I’d just dump her in an Uber and let her be. But even worse, she was forced to hold on to me, because I was a gentleman and I offered her my arm, which she reluctantly threaded her hand through. We walked in silence, as I allowed her to adjust to the inevitability of what was about to transpire. She was alone with me, the one she feared, and maybe hated, and it was my arm she was leaning on, and it was my body behind which she huddled to escape the unforgiving wind. I bet she didn’t know how she managed to end up in this situation, and I couldn’t help but chuckle at her predicament. Poor thing. In way over her head. 

There was another test that I was going to put her through. The outcome would tell me a lot about how she felt, even if she fought it. 

She surprised me though, even before we got in the car. We stood waiting for the Uber to arrive when she suddenly said “You talked to Gwyn a lot tonight”.

That floored me. Good thing that she had her head pressed to my shoulder and her eyes closed. Because honestly, I am not sure if I could’ve played it off cool. 

Was she actually…jealous? I didn’t know how to respond to her just yet, so I deflected and asked her about Graysen instead. That little prick did attempt to ask her out. I’d have to remind him that interoffice romances were highly discouraged. They weren’t, technically. Especially because Elain and he were colleagues and peers. They could date if they wanted to. She and I–we were a problem of course. I was her boss. She was a subordinate. She was someone I selected myself for my team. Sure, I’d get in trouble if we were discovered, but I was a man and I was liked and respected in the company, and I was a managing partner. Men like me could and did get away with a lot of things. It would be much harder for her. A woman in a very large, prestigious financial institution, getting promoted within a year…The optics weren’t good for her. And just another way for me to keep her quiet once I made her mine.

The fight went out of her pretty quickly once we were in the car. I know that she was tired and cold and sleepy. She knew that I wasn’t going anywhere. I wasn’t sure if she even believed that I’d leave her once we arrived at her place. Instead, she did exactly what I wanted her to do–she passed the test. 

Her head fell on my shoulder and her hand on my thigh. She fell asleep on me. Because deep down, she trusted me. I’d have to think about it and unpack it later on. There was a lot happening tonight and I wasn’t ready to address her behaviour fully. 

Don’t worry. I didn’t rape her. 

Not technically.

And not because of morals, or anything idiotic like that. Mostly because of awareness. 

At the end of the day, I wanted her to know that it was me. I wanted her to be conscious. I wanted her to be…well, willing or unwilling, that didn’t really matter to me–but present and succumbing. 

She was out by the time we parked by her house. Good thing I knew where she lived, what floor her apartment was on and how to get inside. I rummaged through her purse, got the keys out, while she hung onto me sleepily, snorting softly into my arm. I got us inside and lifted her in my arms, carrying her upstairs. 

The only holiday decoration that she had inside was a string of lights around the window. It helped me orientate myself in the apartment and I carried her to the bedroom. I left her on the bed and went exploring. 

The apartment was large for a single woman–it was completely remodelled, while maintaining some of the old Chicago charm. I knew she wasn’t poor and considering how much she was making, she could afford it. However, I also did some background digging and learned that Elain Archeron and her two sisters grew up in Winnetka, IL, in a mansion that overlooked Lake Michigan and that their father was the CEO of a major global shipping company. Of course the sisters went to New Trier High School–one of the best in the country. The funny thing is that we were basically neighbors–I graduated from the same school a year before she started 9th grade. I wondered if my father knew hers? They were probably members of the same Glencoe Golf Club. I usually didn’t believe in coincidences, but as our worlds narrowed more and more, I was beginning to believe that perhaps, this was all meant to be. That maybe, this was destiny. 

On the surface, the place was tidy and neat. Bookshelves with popular novels–romantasy, by the looks of it. Cassian would love it here! Apparently she also needed three Kindles–one at the little reading nook by the window, another on the kitchen counter and the third was on her nightstand. But the more I explored the more it became obvious that things weren’t as neat and tidy as I first thought. She clearly didn’t have the time or the energy to decorate for Christmas. The trendy herb garden in the kitchen was wilting: the chives half-dead, the basil yellowing, the parsley limp. I grabbed a glass and watered all of them. Dirty dishes were piled in the sink. I could see a layer of dust on the credenza, and on the family photos. Chapo was prominently featured in almost all the pictures. I would need to do something about this dog. She was clearly obsessed with him. The rug could use a vacuum and even though there was a shoe rack in the entry closet, sneakers and booties and boots were piled haphazardly by the door. 

Perhaps, she wasn’t handling things as well as I’d assumed she was. 

It didn’t make me want to go easier on her, but I’d have to make some considerations. I looked at my phone, and though she didn’t deserve it, I decided to take one of her reports and finish it up myself. She still needed to re-do the UBS report though and I wasn’t going to take that off her plate.

I removed my suit jacket, my tie, my belt, my shoes and walked back to the bedroom. 

The bed was unmade–we’d need to discuss it later. Discarded options for this night’s outfits were dumped on the bed and the chair–a green dress, a couple of black dresses, a sparkly number, and a red pantsuit. I picked them all up and went into her closet to hang them. And then I started on her–I lifted her torso off the bed and tugged her coat off. Then I removed her shoes and her scarf. The dress rode up her legs, above the knees and I sat on my hunches, admiring the view. She was soft and her chest rose up and down evenly and I couldn’t help myself and cupped her breast in my palm, squeezing gently. She hummed and her eyes opened. She looked up at me, confused, while I rubbed her nipple with my thumb, caressing her breast. Would she suck my cock if I pushed it in her mouth right now? Probably not well, but I could fuck her mouth and come all over her face, just to make it known that it happened. She licked her lips, her gaze unfocused. 

“What are you doing here?” she murmured.

“Shhh, sleep, baby,” I urged her. 

She nodded.

“Do you want my cock in your mouth?” I asked casually.

She seemed to think about the proposal for a moment and then argued, “I don’t think I am supposed to…”

“But I give you permission?” I pressed, feeling her up in search of a zipper. “What if I say that you should suck it and that you should please me?”

She draped her arm around my neck, while I unzipped her dress and pulled it down her torso. 

“You’d be pleased with me?” she confirmed.

I nodded.

“Very.”

She sighed and yawned.

“I want to please you,” she admitted. “You are scary…But you are handsome,”

“Oh yeah?”

She nodded vigorously.

“I like you…but I hate you too.”

“I know. It’s okay.”

“Do you like me?” she asked, her voice both sleepy but also hopeful.

“Oh, I like you a lot.”

She smiled and then plopped back down on the bed. 

I smiled and stroked her cheek.

“You’ll suck everything, sweetheart,” I whispered in her ear, inhaling her scent deep into my lungs. “Even things you never imagined sucking before.”

She was almost nude, wearing only a black lace bra, same style underwear and nude pantyhose. 

I rubbed my hands together in anticipation. Even if she wasn’t going to get my dick in her mouth tonight, I was going to get my hands on her tits. I ripped her hose off impatiently, rolling them down her legs and then pushed my face into the warm, damp crotch. I bit her pussy lips through the lace. I pulled on the band and lifted the material up, so I could see. Puffy pink pussy, no hair. Not shaved, but removed professionally. I rolled the panties down and then shoved her legs apart, opening her up. I needed to see. Impatiently, I pulled her lips apart, wider and wider, until she lay splayed like an open book in front of me. She was wet and pink and I pinched her clit between my fingers, squeezing hard. She jerked on the bed and moaned loudly. I pressed her knees to the mattress and placed her hands on top, so she looked like she was holding herself wide open for me. My head went quiet. The way I was going to destroy this pussy…even the thought alone made my cock ache something brutal. 

I cupped her whole pussy in my hand and squeezed, getting my palm wet with her juices.

“My cunt,” I whispered in her ear. “My woman. All of you are mine.”

I licked my hand, tasting her, and then took off my shirt, and my trousers. I wanted to feel her skin next to mine. I didn’t plan to stay for the night, but now, my plans have changed. 

I rolled her over on her stomach because I wanted to see her other hole. There was something exhilarating about using her and her body any way that I wanted. I sat on the bed, and lifted her hips, until her round pale ass was up in the air. I spread her legs wider, and then slowly pulled her cheeks apart. 

Oh yes. I grinned to myself. Also mine.

I was rough, pulling on her tiny hole with my fingers, until her hips rose and shifted instinctually, and I watched her squeeze the bedding nervously. I spat on her hole and it twitched, as saliva slid down between her cheeks and towards her pussy. I watched the slow progression, before reaching between her thighs and dipping both of my thumbs into her opening. I pulled her apart, as wide as she would go. There was something insane about watching her hole ripple and then looking inside of her. I could see inside her body, the place where my children would come from. I spat again and it oozed inside of her and I murmured, “that’s my good girl. Keep it inside. Until you are ready for more.”

I rolled her again and her tits flopped heavily side to side. I climbed on top of her and kissed her neck. I kissed her ear, her forehead. I gathered her breasts in my hands and then I began to suck.

-

That Monday, after the party, after I spent the night with Elain, after I looked inside her womb and sucked on her tits like they were last meal, I didn’t expect her to show up at work. I checked my email a couple of times over the weekend, to see if she was going to request a day off and I was not going to grant it. Sadly, it was not to be. 

She came as always, on time, or rather, earlier than almost everyone. She was dressed in all black–a black turtleneck, black trousers, black boots, and three strings of pearls. Her hair was curled and covered her cheeks and her neck. She was hiding. She was wearing armour, trying to push me back and hide the evidence of our night together. All the hickeys, all the bites, all the scratches.

We had a 7:30 am meeting with Switzerland and everyone piled into the conference room at 7:15am.

I decided to make the official announcement about my team before the meeting started.

“Good weekend everyone?” I asked.

There were groans and nods and complaints about holiday shopping. Elain remained quiet, eyes firmly on her laptop.

“Elain?” I asked her after some time.

She looked up at me, lips pursed together, glowering.

“I’ve had better,” she sneered.

“Oh really? That’s a shame,” I shook my head. “I guess we’ll work harder next time to make sure you have a great weekend.”

She almost gasped in horror.

I smiled.

“Now,” I looked at the team. “I wanted to start off by announcing that I’ve made my preliminary assessments of everyone’s capabilities, strengths and weaknesses on the team. The following people will be joining me and will be reporting to me.”

I rattled out a bunch of names: traders, brokers, auditors, administrators, analysts and transfer agents. 

Graysen jumped up, his face screwed up,

“I am sorry, you are choosing Elain over me??”

“Is there a problem?” I queried.

“I have seniority! I have more experience. I’ve been busting my a-,”

“I don’t care what you’ve been busting,” I told him sternly. “My mind is made up. Her reports are timely, thorough, supported with good data and I trust her calculations,” I explained.

“No, you needed a token chick on the team!” Graysen sneered.

“Sit down,” I ordered him. “If you have a problem with my decision making, take it up with Rhysand. Are we clear? Elain’s been punctual, precise, and delivered excellent work. I expect all of you to treat her with respect and we will all have a great year. Remember the potential, guys. Some of you are looking at some major bonuses. Let’s start the year off running.”

There were fist pumps, and loud cheers and applause. 

Elain was red-cheeked.

But I wasn’t going to let anyone think anything less of her just because she was a woman. She was my woman. But she was also my employee and my team member. I didn’t care if this was a boys’ club. She belonged here, with us.

After the meeting, which went well, I watched her walk back to her cube.

I smiled.

I was in for the long run.

I was going to break her.

I was going to make her mine.

But first, I picked up my phone and scrolled through my contacts, finding the cleaning service that I used. 

I ordered a bi-weekly house cleaning for Elain. And then, I pulled up a bunch of food delivery options and started reading. Hello Fresh? Home Chef? Marley Spoon? Whatever I was going to decide on was going to be the best service out there. Only the best for my girl.

[carionto]

The duality of Man, or triality? quadrality?

Alien to Human about New Human: Correct me if I'm wrong, but they appear abnormally large for your species?

H: Yea, he's a biggun alright, even without the EV suit I'd say... 7'3'', 310 pounds, bet he power lifts.

A: Umm... not to be rude, but, uhh... he seems, well... how should I put this...

H: Intimidating? Terrifying? Evil? Yea, if this station didn't have high screening standards I'd be totally pissing myself if he started walking towards me. The mohawk and eye tat totally make me believe he could snap me in two with a single glare.

A: I feel ashamed that my instincts are telling me to flee. I wish nature were easier to change.

H (shouting at NH): Hey buddy! Could you come over here for a minute please? You look awesome by the way!

A (whispering nervously): what are you doing?!?

H: Gotta overcome those fears somehow, I believe the best way is a direct confrontation.

NH approaches, somewhat slowly, looking around at all the other aliens in the station that are chatting, waiting around, or doing some work. He finally approaches A and H, and in a very deep and husky voice says: Um, hi, hello. T-thanks for the compliment, I, uh, was a little worried I would stand out too much here.

H: Oh you totally do, my friend over here is practically about to pass out from how much like a gothic viking of death metal you look.

NH: Oh no, I'm so sorry, I-I just grew up in Sweden-Delta and both my parents were huge into classic local music, so I just, uh... it's complicated. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare anyone.

H: Hey, relax pal, we're all good people here. Anyway, what you here to do? I'm planning on starting a bakery, still testing out what kind of flour most species here can actually stomach. My friend here is on the team working on Moon theft preventative measures.

NH: Oh, that's cool. I'm here as an exchange student with the department of applied astrophysics. If all goes well, I can finish my Bachelors degree remotely and stay here as an intern with the head researcher.

H: Oooh, that's cool. (so cool yea that you're apparently half my age but oh well guess I'm a big fat time waster like my father before me and oh god change the subject before I get depressed in front of strangers) That's a real big bag you got there, carrying some super secret science things, eh?

NH: Oh, that... uhh... guess it can't hurt to tell, security vetted it already anyway.

NH proceeds to unzip the bag and hold up a large white piece of clothing with light blue rings and accents, alongside a strange white cap with what looked like small fins, and a curious little backpack.

NH: It's uhh... um... my... Ika... musume... cosplay.... (oh gods I can't believe I said it out loud again)

After a moment of awkward silence, NH slowly puts on the backpack and presses a button on it's strap, and suddenly numerous light blue colored tentacle-like appendages sprout out from the backpack and move in line with NH's movements.

NH: I, uh..., got my engineering friend to make them articulate and interface with my contacts. I can make them do all sorts of things, like make various shapes and animals with them, though works best as a shadow theater.

H:...

NH:...

A now frozen out of confusion than fear:...

H: That's so

NH: (oh I know it's so lame, but I love that show)-

H: COOL! I don't know what a ika musume is, but those things look amazing. You said articulate? How precise can they be? I'd love to have something like that instead of my useless assistant. Poor lad can't make a piece of toast if his life depended on it...

NH: Y-you like it?

H: I LOVE those things. My daughter does cosplay too sometimes, but she makes her Dreadnought suits herself from scraps. One time the military came to our house and installed a limiter on the gauss cannon she found in a crash site, said it would otherwise start to generate small doses of radiation if used too frequently. But she replaced it with a handmade rail gun before the next convention. Do you go to those? Did you see a 7 meter tall hulking metal monstrosity with a bunch of candles all over? That was her.

NH: Oh, I think I've seen video of that, but no, not in person, I go to smaller events. I don't really like big crowds.

H: Oh yea, I get ya, you do seem a bit on the shy side now that we've been talking for a bit. Hey, no worries, like I said, we're all good people here.

NH: T-thanks, but I think I should be going now, the teacher is calling me over.

H: Oh yea, go ahead, didn't mean to take up so much of your time. Have a fun stay and I'm sure you'll ace that paper or theory? Or whatever astrophysicists do, you seem like a solid kid.

NH: Oh, uh, thanks. Good luck with your bakery. And you with stopping those weird people from stealing more moons. Bye.

H: Bye bye, come visit, don't be a stranger now, I'm set up just a short bit from the main lift on floor 14.

NH: R-right, I'll, uh, be sure to stop by soon.

A is finally able to process what they just heard and says: What was all that just now?

H: What? Just a friendly chat with what is apparently basically a kid. Man, this kid's got so much going on, while I'm almost 50 and I have an oven. Life, man, it can go in so many ways. Anyway, let's go grab a drink, I'm parched.

[totheinferno]

Alright, I’m done being lazy. Time to talk about the Creepypasta comic.

So I’ve known about this comic for awhile now, like late 2023. I just randomly managed to find this comic while looking for Creepypasta comics and I came across this!

The Cryptidnals, an interesting ongoing comic. Right now they have 5 issues out and a double feature issue coming out…. I don’t know when, they have yet to set a release date.

Anyways, here’s the basic synopsis:

“ Monsters of Mesoamerican myth such as La Llorona, legends of Texas like the Lake Worth Goatman, and oddities such as the immortal San Elizario Man-dog. Creatures that have been claimed to exist but have never been proven… These monsters are what our fear of the dark is based upon.

But what if the legends are truer than we believe? What if these abnormalities have their own secret society? From ancient supernatural deities to Cthulhuian horror that has been present before the dawn of man? Furthermore, what if that society is being threatened by new atrocities arising from the ethereal realm of cyberspace, with evil TULPAS, like the malevolent El Ñango and the heinous Rake, and more sinister beings, these emanations have been created through the power of belief!

Enter THE CRYPTIDNALS. Monsters who have been criminalized by human society for existing and the only hope for mankind. ”

To help sum it up, think X-Men, Creepypasta, Cryptids and Lovecraft all rolled up into a ball.

The Cryptidnals is a team of Cryptid/ Urban Legends who are attempting to stop the rise of the Tulpas. The team is very X-Men inspired, at least to me. You have Man-Dog aka Deacon Call who is basically a gunslinger Wolverine. Spring Heel Jack aka Wraydon who is the Cyclops like team leader. Goatman who serves as the team muscle to Colossus, you get what I am throwing down.

These guys are facing off against The Tulpas lead by a tall faceless entity named El Ñango ( Slenderman is copyrighted so they couldn’t name him that. ) The Tulpas have The Rake, Smile Dog and even later on, Jeff The Killer fighting for their side. But besides them, cryptids like Sasquatch and Chupacabra have joined their ranks.

So without spoiling much else, where can you read this? Well only the first 4 issues are out physically yet they are kinda difficult to find at the moment, once they are available I will let you know. However you can read all 5 issues right now at GlobalComix, you can read the first issue completely for free but you can get a pretty cheap subscription for a month to read the rest ( And all of the other comics on GlobalComix )

If you fellas want, I will reblog this post with bios for the Cryptidnals and Creepypastas. Just comment below if you want me to.

Now to discuss one big issue I have with the Creepypasta characters in this comic, feel free to skip so you don’t get spoiled.

I am honestly not crazy with how these characters are used. El Ñango is fine, but the others aren’t handled that well in my opinion. So the Tulpas don’t feel like a team, but rather a faceless army. Like there is no Rake, there is many Rakes. There is no Smile Dog, but several Smile Dog. There is no Jeff The Killer, but a whole damn army of them.

This is something I really don’t like… they aren’t treated as characters but as enemy types for the heroes to fight. As a Creepypasta fan and a comic fan in general, this isn’t really all that interesting. It reminds me of how Michael Bay handled the Decepticons in the Transformers sequel movies; instead of being a team with interesting or awesome characters, they were a faceless horde. Like it was so bad they only had two or three named characters than the rest of the ranks was filled drones and/or random clones because they just felt like using the same character model.

I wish the creators of this comic actually made the Creepypasta characters more like the Brotherhood of Mutants and gave us interesting dynamics with the heroes. Like for example, Deacon Call and Jeff The Killer being brutal savages who just want to tear into each other similar to Wolverine and Sabretooth. Or The Rake and Goatman hunting each other through the woods, trying to see who is the greatest hunter. You know? Something like that would be fun to explore.

But besides my issue with it, I do recommend at least checking it. The artwork it great and the Lovecraftian elements are fun. The action isn’t bad either. I just had to get my nitpick out as a Creepypasta fan who enjoys and loves these characters. ( the good ones and bad ones. )

Sorry for any typos or grammar mistakes, it’s 3 in the morning here and I am tired. I just really wanted to get this post out before I forgot about it… again.