#this was not proof read btw

[plasticfangtastic]

Can We be Lonely together? Epilogue

a Homelander x Stalker! Reader fanfic

This is a GN reader reader fic

Author's note: too self indulgent not to write an epilogue, thanks for reading and am looking forward to making more fics for this fandom, this is Bi Homelander content if y'all read this as fem or non male reader. prev. chapters in my blog under the my fic tag or can we be lonely together? tag will be making a masterlist fairly soon tho.

R18+ mild smut, exhibitionism kink, gore, murder, dub con, dirty talk, surprise butchlander, butcher x reader, 3-way?, amoral protagonist, unreality.

Epilogue

Breeze sang in the ample halls bringing whispers from the balearic sea, a top the mountain overseeing endless azure, greens and neighborhood roofs the world seemed so far away to him.

So many absent walls in this villa, the house was airy and open, blurring the idea of inside and outside with is design.

Cream coloured linen danced against the wind to the seas secret songs, the sun leaving no corner in the shadows, sandy granite warm under the sun, evergreens could be seen from all windows, cascades of green coloured the view, and a pair of cats slept in a guest room.

There was not a sight disturbed by ugly grey buildings, just mountains and sea– left him feeling as Zeus on the top of mount Olympus, inside the airy home only the dull sound of oak ceiling fans pushing the breeze disturbed the halls.

No longer did the steps of strangers disturbed the dull accismus of this temple by the hill, camera crews left most of the home untouched, it had been a busy and exhausting week for Homelander.

Walls had been sparsely decorated, remnants of a past life clung on smooth oatmeal walls and indigo blue wood beecher paneling accentuating one living room of three-- paintings he had grown attached to and the occasional marble statue laid around, but now there were photos of a man one could hardly recognize.

With each new image, time had eroded wounds off his face, there was a glimmer on his features that had never resided there.

Garden pots had been shuffled around for the perfect frame, now he would've had to move them much to his annoyance.

It was the most anticipated interview of the decade, it had gone smoothly, Oprah had been delightful, manly tears had been shed and hair raising stories were shared, she had found him approachable above all.

After a year of silence the whole world was kept on edge awaiting for his return.

The trial hadn’t even televised but they were plenty of updates by the hour circling around-- more than sufficient. Now he had a full schedule, he was to be in the cover of GQ magazine, had some big podcasts lined up for an appearance, and Vogue to model for… it would be so strange to do without his suit.

Homelander sat with his legs dipping into one of his infinity pools, his loosely fitted honeycomb shirt draped around his shoulders like a poor’s man cape, his hair had grown a tad longer, salty seas had turned his flaxen locks almost wavy and a dark thick stubble began adorning his face.

His tablet resting behind him buzzing with a new email, the wrinkles around his eyes sank as he squinted from the blinding wet mirror, distracting enough that your step barely registered.

“You looked quite handsome in the suit this morning…” You spoke gently– I think the people are gonna love your new look… between the tan and the beard you look… sumptuous.” 

“I should’ve shaved. They’ll think I look like a complete slob! I bet they’ll say I let myself go.”

You joined him by the pool as the hot Mediterranean sun stood above you, pulling his head closer to yours for a flurry of butterfly kisses.

“You look stunning, mi sol. Either way… lunch is ready… Ryan called and said him and Jaythaniel’s family just made it to Disneyland, don’t forget to pick him up tonite.” You said softly squeezing his thigh–  he said he’ll call after lunch.” 

He nodded absentmindedly.

“You don’t think Theodore is going to wake up?”

Worry clung to his tongue, his ears picking up the soft lull of his son’s snoring, Blender making biscuits on his sides but the child slept deeply, you could tell he had entered deep REM stage, you shook your head much to John’s relief.

“I can’t believe we are doing this… you spoil us too much.” He kissed your ear before lifting himself and dropping into the pool.

The sun sparkled harshly against the glass tiles, the sky more blue from below, your sinuous reflection watching him until he emerged, the tired breeze doing very little to dry him, you followed him giddy as his wet footprints led you to the wine cellar.

 It had been an expensive endeavor to have all of this installed… several 3x3 plastic acrylic panels of 32 mm thickness, a high tech locking mechanism plus humidity and temperature control systems had to be installed independently of a good enough contractor who could reinforce the flooring with a steel mesh and coat the cement flooring with resin just to make it impossible for their friends to dig, there had been many logistical nightmares from finding the right contractors to finding a spot for it, it was easy to sell the strange boxes as a sex thing– blaming having super-abled kids increasingly longer list of powers that made it hard for dear ol’ daddy to get off… especially when the word ‘soundproofing’ had been mentioned, or his super strengths which led to some nasty laughs and a bit of murder later down the track, the last thing that mattered had been costs.

No amount of sound ever escaped the wine cellar, the zinc plates coating the walls prevented Ryan and himself from seeing in or out, Theodore was young enough to listen to instructions, if not it was your turn to discipline the toddler.

Opening that door was always a surprise, bringing him almost as much joy as that first christmas day as a complete family.

As they took the stairs he could smell mullet wine and lebkuchen– the tension in his muscles still fresh as he entered a home that had only existed in childish fantasies, awkwardness that never seemed the fade as the strangers hounded him with questions, but he had had you, Ryan and now Theodore for much needed emotional support, it had been almost perfect as it had been intense, it had been strange to hear all these stories of a woman he had murdered, who had only suffered, it was stranger how her only sister had not blame him for the nature of his birth, still grateful that he had found her even if it took forty years, grateful that something more than a pristine corpse was left behind.

Her body refusing to decay inside that pine box.

The cellar door beeps, and cogs turn inside the heavy metal door, fluorescent lights sung awake by the entrance, bringing much needed light to the dark sub-basement, only the three small lights inside the boxes lighten the area for most of the day.

A woman shuddered, flinching as more light hit her eyes, hiding beneath the bolted desk, you walked past Homelander carrying today's menu, there was something enjoyable about the challenge of creating an ever changing menu that was nutritionally balance, delicious and required no cutlery. The disheveled woman approached eagerly at the floating box, awaiting for you to place her meal, intentionally keeping her starved, this had been his decision for this particular guest-- to see if she would go mad. Due to the lack of windows she had no concept of time after all while the lights were on a timer, they were programmed to be irregular enough to cause confusion. To visit at random intervals and feed her whenever he remembered.

Homelander and John wanted to watch her scoof down her meal, to see her choke and tear up as she filled her cheeks and swallowed greedily– but their attention was reserved for guest number two.

“If I knew I had you getting all wet and bothered for daddy, I would’ve worn something nicer” His voice dry, barely lifting his head from the bed.

Homelander helps himself to the mini bar cracking open some pale ale for the world’s largest paper cup, humming a tune as he prepped today's round of meds while you set his meal.

“Got you pale ale… unless you’d like some peach bellinis?” 

Homelander opened the cabinets, rows of neatly organized sex toys, booze and cleaning supplies were displayed– sex toys solely for decor, you both had committed to the bit, much of these had never been used nor did he want to, you had no need for vibrators when his hands did the job so perfectly. He took out a cattle prod, then pressed a code unto a small hidden panel making sure the guest couldn’t peek.

The inner latches came apart, the door hissed open.

There was no need to consider escaping, it was futile, the door upstairs was thicker than the glass, and no amount of yelling got anybody’s attention-- but he didn’t try killing himself either, for the last time he’d tried he had been here in no time, he had a chip monitoring his vitals at all times, and the camera on top of his room watched over him.

You also helped in that department.

Homelander entered first, you placed the food on the floor for Homelander to give Butcher his back.

Almost encouraging him to jump him.

“Would it kill you to wear pants?”

Homelander chuckled as he turned around with Butcher’s meal, wearing nothing but his wet shirt clinging to him tighter than his suit ever did, and black briefs.

“Would it kill you to agree to my offer?”

“Not going to play house with you, stupid cunt.”

Butcher didn’t argue with the meal, taking the food off his hand and sitting by the bolted table, the chair also bolted which made for an awkward fit.

“You got three months left William… these meds might get you one more… it's already been weeks… you want to spend the rest of your days here watching her starve to death or you want to be with Ryan? He wishes to see you. Be there for him… you just have to be with us.”

Butcher bared his teeth, mutterign curses under his breath as he gave him his back.

You entered the room taking the cattle prod  tucked under his arm, Butcher ate ignoring him, throwing the tray towards his face, forever amused as to how he never bothered to dodge it, John rolling his eyes as the plastic dropped around him.

“I’m being generous after what you did to Dolores… that was… well… you lived up to your name.” 

“Said I’ll get even.” 

He had made Dolores into the antithesis of her craft, it had stung, to witness her unrecognizable being-- a DNA test confirming its identity. Close casket was the only choice.

Homelander watched him eat as you prepared yourself, undressing in the corner, fresh bruises adorning your thighs, handprints where he had held you solidly against his mouth.

Closing the door behind, locking Homelander and Butcher inside one box, giddy he jumped into the thin futon.

“Here I thought we were having the world’s most disappointing threesome… all thirteen seconds of it.”

He took a sip of the ale, it was utterly delicious but he wouldn’t let Homelander hear it from his mouth, this his only joy while stuck in this box. He turned to you watching as you opened the door on guest number 1, then back at Homelander already squeezing himself, a wet suther escaped his lips as your nude frame approached her, Butcher buried his brow.

You had ignored her for weeks, fed her irregularly while feeding Butcher on schedule. She survived on saltines and peanut butter, only receiving proper meals on the occasion but never did either of you touched her, or spoke to her.

She squealed as the tip hit her breast, too weak to do more than just scream, he had been so distracted by Homelander he hadn’t noticed the crowbar by the entrance… he could’ve sworn it was his own.

“Families should always have a mommy and a daddy… grandpa and grandma… cousins… but I don’t have any uncles… nor does Ryan have uncles… ahhh” he tugged harder hand fondling the dripping tip of his hardened member– just like that pumpkin.”

His skin crawled at the sight of the awoken thick member as he pulled it out his tight underwear, with a wet snap.

He turned to you, watching her face split red as you smacked her face with the cattle prod, she clutched at her cheek, blood spilling from the sides of her fingers, a distressed mess tried escaping you. You grinned as you felt Homelander excitement, his chest flushed as you gave a parry of messy heavy swings, she cried and as she covered her face you shocked her hands off until your eyes met, turning limp while Butcher’s heart accelerated, craning her neck, she opened her mouth leaving it frozen mid-air as you took to the crowbar.

“Pick a number of teeth … or Pusher will take the whole jaw” he whispered as he laid long languid strokes on his cock, rubbing his thumb on the glistening tip– or you can say yes”

A curved tip pressed right behind her upper chompers.

“One…?” You muttered– that’s not going to excite you right, mi sol?” 

Homelander pouted, slowing down his hand, focusing on the base with short lived pumps.

“Break her jaw– let’s see how long she’ll last before she starves to death… she might dehydrate first, no?” He scoots patting the empty spot on the bed encouraging Butcher to join him— make it clean babe.”

You take the tip out her mouth and get in position to tap her jaw.

“We’ll visit in a week… hope you last my dear William.”

Butcher stood up, still with enough energy in him to fight, he might be dulled by the meds, exhaustion and his captor's cruel tactic.

“Kill her you wanker just bring some fucking fabreeze.”

You grinned mockingly, breaking more than her jaw, her body thud and her voice returned smashing her skull repeatedly caving into a pancake. Homelander groaned, edging himself as your vicious attacks drew your victim closer and closer to death, legs moving on their own, pressing his forehead against the wall, the sight of your bloody torso didn’t just titillate him, he craved the sight, knowing the glass stood between you two, knowing how far away you were and just how untouchable you were was better than any x-rated video, your ragged panting, the sweet sweat falling from the tip of your chin, blood specs bejeweled your body, was too much.

You had become more than he had ever imagined, you pressed your behind against the bloodied wall as you caught your breath.

Butcher could only try to ignore your sick kinks.

Homelander will bring as many innocent people he could and make him take part of their scenes, he whined as you got out the cage, walking painfully slow towards his– ignoring him in favor of the minibar, his hand stopped with a sneer, turning to see that Butcher had skulled down the last of his ale.

“You know he’s being nice asking you… I could just make you say yes…”

Butcher looked back at the mass, almost flinching as the woman was back on her feet, her face a torn mess but there she was still eating the last morsels of the chunky yiros with her torn jaws, for every bit of garlic sauce that dripped down her hands there was an equal amount of chunky blood spilling unto the ground.

Deepthroating the yiros more than eating it.

Her face just hanging by red ribbons, one eye swollen and bulging while the other just hung out of her socket, clumps of broken scalp swinging with the weight of her once straight hair, now dirty and matted.

She turned to see him sensing she had been watched and her face had no bruises.

He looked back at Homelander then back at the corpse now immobile, rotting, fluids escaping its bloated body, gangrenous pus seeping thru its sunken eyes while the skin darkened and dried, now his nose picked up on the revulsion, he looked at his drink and figure out that there was no drug in him– Homelander was back in his bed, his cock tucked in and not a sight that he had moved once, his toothy grin more real than the full cup fizzing in his hand, your breath warming Butcher’s ear.

Months, weeks, days, hours… he had no clue how long he actually been here, this was an illusion… some of it… tragically you two were disgustingly real.

“You want to break me into compliance?”

The white glow of your eyes not as menacing as Homelander's lasers, he took a short sip of his beer letting it dry his tongue, feeling the warm building in his stomach.

Hot fingers creep from around his hips, exploring the softened torso, he is still strong and firm under the weakened body, the illness making it hard to maintain his shape, hot water dampened his shirt, nails bruising trails as he trapped him, pressed tight against the leaner man, craning his neck to place his chin on the older man’s shoulder– no doubt floating to do so.

Before he could protest further, before he could do more than curse under his breath and wriggle, your teeth met the underside of his chin.

Intertwining your hands with his free one, no doubt he could snap your wrist but a little red light shone next to his head, telling it wouldn't be a good idea.

Homelander closed his iron grip around Butcher’s neck, leaving him gasping, feeling his pipe collapse slightly.

Your tongue licked his neck, your touch more gentle, more tender but to his shock Homelander only purred, you both stared at each other lovingly, Butcher’s neck nothing but a barrier between you two, you climbed to meet his lips, while your loved was manhandling Butcher lower so Homelander could give you wet, loud and messy kisses.

Arching him much to his displeasure, the beer spilling down his arm.

Squeezing harder on his neck, Homelander eyes are coloured a pretty dark pink, he grunts pressing Butcher into him, begging for friction.

You two kissed the older man missing his lips, feeling him shudder, kissing the blanket of goosebumps all over his body.

You loved him more than anything.

You would make him happy in all the ways that your body could.

And sometimes things are easier to do when he just communicated them, usually that would involve murder but now it was this.

Butcher had no idea what he had to say yes to. what exactly you two wanted out of him, and he had yet to spot the hidden vial of V in the cabinet.

John giggled as Butcher's hateful glare tried to burn him.

“Is okay… you’ll be the one fucking me…” he needily purrs– right, pumpkin?”

“Just let all that hatred out… make him cry…” you whispered into Butcher’s ear– make him your bitch.”

It had been his own mind that picture the blonde’s cock, that had been his own worst nightmare, but as he felt those needy kisses– be it the beer on an empty stomach, your powers or the tumor pressing on the smart sections of his brain he chortle at the thought, straining his neck to see the desperate flush on the blonde, his grip loosening, allowing him to turn just enough.

This could also be a part of this illusion.

“You just wanted to be daddy’s cute little slut?” he spat– my cum dump?”

Homelander let out the most obscene moan from within the depths of his core, you felt the heat rising from your own loins as you heard him.

Butcher tugged at your scalp, yanking you away from him.

“Both of you are such weird needy bitches… is okay… I’ll make you both into my good little whores.”

Breathy moans, both men eager to see this new game of yours play out, you would make him happy, please him, take care of all his needs… it was easier when you also felt just a tenth of that spark the first time you met William.

Unlike the last ones before these brother’s you would never grow out of love… you had so much to give after all… and he had so much to give you still.

What a bad thing you two were.

[hotchfiles]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❝ the mood i'm in ❞ ─ an adhd chronicles blurb

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!adhd!reader. summary: sometimes rearranging a whole entire closet is a biological need. content warnings: fluff, adhd antics (i'm diagnosed don't try to come for me) word count: 600+. a/n: this was requested by @ficmeoutofthisworld and i felt the need to make a blurb!verse of it, so expect more fluff for these three 🩵 & the idea of jack calling you honey came from honey is for love by @angellsell

      “Daddy, honey has that weird look again.” Aaron can’t help but smile at his little boy, putting the files he was working on down on his desk, telling him to come closer with his hands. Jack had gotten into the habit of calling you honey very early on in your relationship, that being one of the pet names Aaron used the most when talking to you. It was too endearing to correct him, even after you moved in. You both just let the boy be, knowing that he would call you by name once he got older.

      You didn’t mind him not calling you mom or any of its variants, even if the relationship you shared now was much alike mother and child, Jack didn’t remember a lot of Haley by himself, he was too little, but Aaron always did his best to keep her memory alive in him, so if for his young mind it was easier to call you a pet name, you would take it every single time with a smile. And so would Aaron. 

      “What look, buddy?” He asks even though he’s sure he knows the answer, having been through that a few times over the last two years. 

      “She’s staring at my stuff and sitting on the floor.” Bingo. Every once in a while you would get obsessed with something, it made sense after you were diagnosed with ADHD and he learnt how to accommodate you properly, but for a while it was just a big clash of his organized and controlling nature and your chaotic mind. 

      “Let’s see what she needs, okay?” Jack nods, leading the way with his dad closely behind. They find you exactly as his boy explained to him, sitting with your legs crossed on the floor, staring at his wardrobe so attentively it might scare the unknown eye. 

      “Darling? What’s going on?” He asks without entering the room, not wanting to invade your space before you called him in, instead he decided to lean on the door frame, observing you with his kind eyes.

      “I want to rearrange all of Jack’s clothes but we need more hangers for that and I don’t want to go to the store just to buy hangers, but I also can’t get up to go to the kitchen and check what else we need.” You answered quickly, finishing your ramble with a huff, dropping your shoulders and looking at your fiancé with a pout that made him get closer to you, offering his hands so you could have some support while getting up, you lazily do it, being embraced by him as soon as your feet touch the ground. 

      “Go watch something with Jack, okay?” His tone is always soft, as if your conversations, even the silliest and mundane ones, were secrets for you two to keep. He knew you too well, so he prevented the whine he knew would come–you wanted to get this done, you needed to rearrange Jack’s clothes or the itch in your brain wouldn’t leave–and he did so by holding both of your cheeks with his hands, making you look at him. “I’ll make the shopping list and then you both can go to Target while I get some reports done.” You nod happily, his hands moving with your head. 

      Telling you to watch something with Jack could seem like a mindless choice of words, but it wasn’t, Aaron knew you were feeling stuck and how bad that made you feel, you needed a dopamine kick before you could do something, and no better way for that than colorful silly shows with your favorite boy.

      By the time he’s done with the shopping list, you had already started another important project: Napping on the couch with Jack. So he leaves it attached with a magnet on the fridge, gives you both soft forehead kisses and goes back to work, not minding the fact he did it quickly for no reason, happy you were resting and that it was done for when you decided to shop.

[wonuwonder]

can i request something cute and full of kisses while cuddling with seokmin on the couch please and thank you 🥹

an: your mind anon>> i was literally thinking about posting a drabble about cuddly seokmin🥺 tysm for requesting!! hope this isn’t too short or cheesy😭

content: pure fluff, fem reader x seokmin, established relationship, just cuddling and snuggling with seokmin, clingy baby just wants to kiss you and hold you. 0.8k words

cuddles & kisses - lee seokmin

you were laying on the couch reading a book with the tv on at the back keeping you company, it was a quiet evening, you hadn’t done much the whole day, just ran errands with your boyfriend Seokmin, walked in the park for a bit and got home quickly before it started to rain.

“hey whatcha doing?” he asks cutely, entering the living room, he gets close to the couch and grabs your book, making you look up at him, he puts the bookmarker in place and closes it “i want cuddles, i’m cold” he whines, pouting.

you open up the blanket and gesture for him to join you at the couch, he lays in between your legs, his back facing the ceiling, resting his head in your chest, he scoots closer to you as you start playing with his hair, while he caresses the sides of your tummy under your t-shirt. he hums everytime you pull his hair, he loved it.

“i missed this min” you say softly, hugging him tightly and kiss the tip of his nose “you spend so much time overseas or with your tight schedules these days, it feels like we don’t have time to enjoy each other’s presence” he looks up at you and pouts at your confession, he brushes the hair out of your face and stares at you delicately, his tired brown eyes glistening with adoration, he’s about to start speaking but you cut him off before he can start, “and i’m not blaming you or complaining, I know it doesn’t depend on you, and that you’re doing your best, i just” —you sigh “wanted to tell you how i felt i guess”

he tugs you against him, turning you and him to your sides, so you can stare at him and lay before each other on the couch. he places his hand on your cheek and brushes his thumb against your skin, you close your eyes enjoying the feeling. he reaches for you, and kisses you softly, taking his time to taste your lips, when he pulls back, he grabs your waist and scoots you closer to him, snuggling you.

“i missed this too, so much” he confesses, and looks at you with tired eyes “i wish we could be together all the time” your faces were so close together you could see your reflection in his big dark eyes, the intimacy felt so comfortable, you wish you would never have to separate.

you lean closer and brush your lips against his, and then close the tiny gap between you both, capturing your lips again, he presses his against yours harder, and you deepend the kiss by parting your lips for his tongue to get in, but still being soft and gentle with the way your lips move against each other. when he pulls back slowly after a while of just enjoying each other’s kisses, he leaves a little peck on your lips before hiding his head in your neck, hugging you tightly.

he leaves wet kisses all over your neck making you tickle, as you scratch his back softly under his t-shirt, he hums at every scratch and caresses your tummy, he finds your belly button and fiddles with it, making you laugh, he leans closer again and starts kissing you once again, this time more chaotically, as he was laughing against your lips, leaving peck kisses all over your face “I-“ he starts, and kisses your nose, “love” another kiss, on your cheek “you” he ends with a kiss on your lips, pressing his lips tightly, pulling back with the biggest smile on his face. you grab his cheek and reply “i love you too”.

you cuddle and kiss for hours, stopping only to look at each other like idiots “your lips have gone all red” you tell him, caressing his big plump lips with your thumb, he bites it softly, making you both laugh, “i canbg’t geth engbough of youlr lips” he says struggling to talk with your thumb between his teeth, you both laugh until your stomachs hurt at his jokes, like always.

you spend the whole evening like that, enjoying each other cuddles, snuggling and hiding on each others bodies, talking about anything and everything, cherishing every little moment in each other’s company.

you fall asleep before seokmin does, lying on his big chest, he takes his time admiring every bit of your face, counting every freckle and every mole on your skin, trying to remember all your details. he eventually falls asleep too, hugging you from behind, locking his arms around your waist, thinking to himself, how lucky he was to be with you.

[smhalltheurlsaretaken]

y'all need to get a grip. you blab all day about how much you hate bigots and hateful people and how evil it is to dehumanize anyone and then you turn around and say "kys" and "i think [x] should all just kill themselves" and other disgusting, violent and childish trash

so many people on here are just full of hatred and vitriol and turn into frenzied sharks anytime the target 'deserves it' and they think they can get away with it and not be called bad people. then they whine about how sad it is that we can't all just get along and if only all the evil people in the world would stop doing evil things wouldn't that be nicer

you're just as vicious, hypocritical and fanatically puritanical as the caricature you have made in your minds of the people you think you have nothing in common with. if you've ever told someone, ANYONE to kill themselves you're not advocates of justice, you're not artisans of peace, and you certainly don't have any moral high ground that would allow you to pass judgment on others

[dapper-lil-arts]

One of the covers for the chapters in the fanfic i'm writin! i'm getting experimental with it! Enjoy my luna redesign heh.

[simplydnp]

who's hand is in this picture?

A Mathematically Rigorous Proof That I Spent Too Long Writing

welcome to university math: dnp hand edition

(no, don't leave, you'll be fine i promise)

to begin, we need a statement to prove. we have two options:

- the hand is dan's hand

- the hand is phil's hand

now, for most proofs in university math, you are told a true statement, and you must show why it is true using logic rules, definitions, and theorems. but, we do not know which of these statements are true, so we have to find out.

to prove that a statement is true, we must show that it is always true for the situation presented. to show a statement is false, we must present a single instance where the statement is false (also known as a counter example).

a quick not scary math example:

definition: a prime number is only divisible by 1 and itself.

statement: all prime numbers are odd

(this is false, because 2 is a prime number and it is even. you don't even need to check if there's any others, all you need is one single case where it isn't true to disprove it)

so now that we have a little background on proofs and how to prove and disprove them, we go back to our two statements.

the thing with this situation is, one of them must be true (unless you're gung-ho on someone else holding dan's face while phil takes a picture on his phone of dan in his glasses, in which case, i applaud your commitment, but in actuality this proof will cover that option too)

the full statement we have is: dan is touching his face or phil is touching dan's face

now, because this is Real Life and we have a picture where a hand is touching dan's face, we know already that one of these options is true (as mentioned above) but! using symbolic logic you could also come to this conclusion.

this type of statement is an 'or' statement, and if you're curious, you can look into 'truth-tables' and see why, but at least one of the options must be true.

back to the proof at hand (bah-duhm-tss)

okay. now, proofs also must be 'general' in order to mean anything, really. these are statements of truth of the universe, not just for individuals. so, we will prove this generally.

we have 2 people involved, so individual 1 (dan, the owner of the face and potential face toucher) will be labelled as 'D' , and individual 2 (phil, the possible face toucher who does not own the face) will be labelled as 'P'. thus, this can be true for any such D and any such P.

so with our 'or' statement, in order to prove it, we pick one of the options and say that it is not true, and we have to show then that the other is true.

step 1: let's assume this is not P's hand. (assumption)

step 2: thus, it must be D's hand. (what we take from our assumption)

step 3: now, if it is D's hand, we look at what a hand on one's own face is capable of appearing like. (a definition or true fact about step 2)

the position in the given photo shows the hand with a thumb on the cheek, and a finger on the forehead. so, we find an example of a person with their fingers in the same position (or close to) and see if this supports our claim.

consider:

now, with this image, you can clearly see how the subject's right hand has the thumb on the temple and index finger on the top of their head, however, it is a close enough position for our case.

from the view of the camera, the closest finger to the camera is the edge of the pinkie. in fact, it will always be the closest finger to the camera in this position, assuming the subject has all fingers and no additional appendages.

step 4: we now compare this to our photo (we verify if this holds to our claim or contradicts it)

in our photo, the closest appendage to the camera is the edge of the thumb.

step 5: thus, it cannot be the case that D is touching their own face. (what the evidence says)

step 6: as we assumed it was not P's hand and have shown it cannot be D's hand, and as this is an 'or' statement both of these claims cannot be false, we can therefore conclude it must be P's hand. (our conclusion: re-stating the statement and assumptions and conclusion)

step 7: we verify that P is true (optional step but in beginner proofs you generally show why your case works)

to do this, i will show a picture of a person touching another's face, and compare it to our image.

consider:

now, this image is not exactly the same, similar to above. however, P's left thumb is on the cheek, with their index on D's temple. the closest appendage to the camera (if it were in a similar perspective as our original) would be the edge of the thumb.

comparing it to our original:

our comparison holds.

thus, we can conclude that the true claim in this statement is that P must be touching D's face, which, in particular means that:

phil is touching dan's face in the image

thank you for partaking in phannie mathematics. we now know. i am not sorry.

bonus:

phil has a hitchhikers thumb and dan doesn't so why was this necessary at all 🤡

[tragedry]

A Guide to Ashler or Tylyn And Why You (🫵🏻) should Consider Shipping Them Too

(join my cause, and ship this with me <3)

[nav-i-nav]

“We found Basil tending to his garden, as usual! He was so confused when we whisked him away towards the forest! Just wait until he sees what we prepared for him! I bet he’s going to love it!”

📷🌻 Happy birthday, Basil! 🌻📷

Small one-shot for my AU below… thank you if you read it….!

"Hurry up, Basil!" Aubrey urged, pushing the mint-haired boy with all of her strength, her large ribbon bouncing on top of her head with each step she took. The girl huffed and puffed, almost tripping and knocking the gardener over in the process. Nevertheless, she continued, her cheerful but bossy tone echoing throughout the flower field the four friends were passing through."Or else we're not going to make it on time for your surprise birthday party! Mari would be really mad if we–”

As soon as those words left her lips, she stopped dead in her tracks, her smile turning sheepish as she rubbed the back of her neck. "Oops.…"

Next to her, a short boy with messy hair let out a loud groan, puffing his cheeks in annoyance.

"Great job, Aubrey!" He exclaimed with disdain. Next to him, Sunny narrowed his eyes and clicked his tongue in disproval. "You ruined it!"

"It was an honest accident, okay?! No need to be such a jerk over it…" The girl snapped back at him, turning around to face him and crossing her arms. "Besides, you almost spilled the beans when you dragged Basil away from his garden anyway, so don't try to act like you know how to keep a secret either, Chico!"

Aubrey then returned her attention to Basil with the same shy expression, ignoring Chico's protests as she clasped her hands together and closed her eyes. “Can you please act surprised once we get to the treehouse? Mari and Hero worked really hard to get everything ready for the party and I’d be really sad if all their hard work went to waste because of me.”

Basil simply shrugged, a small teasing smile forming on his lips as he giggled. “What party?”

The girl let out a big sigh of relief, giving him a thankful nod before she nudged him forward. “Well, let’s keep moving then! We can’t waste any more time standing around here like a couple of lost sprout moles!” As she said that, she shot Chico an accusatory glare, to which the boy  replied with an offended “What?!”

“Oh, quit playing dumb!” Aubrey tapped her foot against the ground, her brows furrowing as she pressed her lips together. “You know as well as I do that if it weren’t for you and your stupid obsession to prove you’re strong, we wouldn’t be running late!”

“It’s not stupid!” Chico argued back, placing his hands on his hips and rolling his eyes. “If we hadn’t dealt with those sprout moles who knows what might’ve happened. What if someone got hurt?”

“Since when do you care if someone gets hurt or not? All you wanted was to show off!”

“Did not!”

“You so did!”

“You’re such a liar!”

“Guys…” Basil let out an awkward laugh, stepping in between the two of them. “If you keep arguing like this, we definitely won’t make it to the treehouse in time.”

Aubrey opened her mouth, ready to protest, but she simply huffed and nodded, crossing her arms and looking away from Chico. “Fine.”

Basil waited.

Three.

Two.

On–

"But we definitely wouldn't have had to take so many twists and turns if it weren’t for Chico always fooling around. Hmph!”

There it is.

“That’s not true!”

“Yes it is!”

“Nuh-uh! Both you and Sunny kept getting distracted as well! Stop acting as if it’s all my fault!”

Basil sighed, giving up trying to get his friends to listen to him. Why did all their conversations have to end with the two of them fighting? He knew neither of them was actually upset, but still… Couldn’t they at least try to get along just once?

At least they managed to find this field of flowers after having to take so many shortcuts. All the flowers were different shades of blue and purple, their petals gently swaying in the summer breeze. Basil had made sure to take note of all the different kinds of plants he found as they made their way amongst the grass. Ah, if only they could stop for a little while so he could take in the scenery better…

Well, there was no benefit in dwelling over it. And he could always come back here another day. But the sky was so pretty… 

Slowly, Basil pulled out his camera, focusing the lens on the flowers. He held his breath, and…

Click!

The photo slowly slid down into his hand, the gardener grasping the Polaroid with care as he waited for the image to fully develop. Slowly, the colors began burning into the paper, all the hues mixing together to reveal a beautiful scenery.

The mint-haired boy smiled, satisfied, and put the photo in his pocket, he didn’t want it to be damaged until he could place it in the photo album, after all. He couldn’t wait to show everyone. Sunny would probably want to draw–

He snapped back from his thoughts, looking back at his friends. 

“Where’s Sunny?”

Aubrey and Chico stopped their bickering, the two of them turning back to Basil with confused expressions, confusion that quickly turned to shame. Basil’s smile soon vanished as he let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. That was all he needed to know. 

“He wandered off on his own, didn’t he?”

No response.

That was all he needed to know. Basil shook his head, looking around the flower field to see if he could find any trace of his best friend. Unfortunately for him, Sunny proved to be quite the sneaky one, as there were no footprints to follow. He pressed his lips together, before taking another deep breath and putting on a bright smile, his tone cheerful and calm. “Th-that’s okay! We’ll just have to look for him. I doubt he got too far away, so why don’t we split up? The field isn’t that big, anyway.”

“Good idea, Basil!” Right away, Aubrey nodded, already bouncing on her feet as she looked around. “I’ll take the left and Chico can take the right!”

“Why do I–”

“And Basil,” Aubrey continued through gritted teeth, shooting Chico another warning stare. “can go back to where we came from to see if Sunny went back.”

Before Chico could try to argue again, the gardener hummed in agreement, pressing his hands together. “Sounds like a plan! Let’s meet up here in five minutes, okay?”

His friends answered with an “Okay.” at the same time, though Chico was clearly still upset about having to follow Aubrey’s lead, grumbling under his breath as he walked away. Likewise, Aubrey’s bow kept bouncing up and down as the girl cheerfully hopped away. She reminded him of a bunny.

Once he was alone, Basil began walking back the way they came, scanning his surroundings as he tried to find any sign of his best friend. As he walked, he couldn’t help but hum a little tune to himself, his hands brushing against the forget-me-nots and lavenders’ soft petals. The flowers’ fragrance filled his nostrils, making him calm down. Despite how he tried to keep his composure, in truth, he was a little afraid. By all means, he didn’t doubt Sunny was strong enough to take care of himself, and he wasn’t one to rush into battle, but this was still an unknown place, as pretty as it was. 

Aubrey always told him he worried too much about them, but he couldn’t help it. He loved his friends more than anything, so if anything were to happen to them….

Basil always made sure his friends stayed safe. It was a bit tiring, sure, but caring for those he was closest to always filled him with a warm sense of fulfillment and peace. He did feel a little bad from time to time, constantly chasing after them and nagging them to be careful, feeling like he was being too pushy or too nosy, but they never seemed to mind. Well, except for Chico… hehe…

He kept walking until he caught a glimpse of a blue rose out of the corner of his eye. Curious, Basil crouched down, reaching his hand out towards the flower. As his fingertips traced the edges of the flower’s petals, he couldn’t help but feel mesmerized by it. He had never seen a rose such as this. What was such a rare flower doing all alone, surrounded by so many different flowers?

He had the urge to take it back with him and care for it so he could show it to his friends. Something about it was so unique and appealing that he just couldn’t leave it here and–

“Ouch!” Basil winced, taking away his hand as one of its thorns managed to pierce through his gloves and prick his finger. He could feel his eyes tearing up a little due to the pain. As he took off his glove and examined his hand, he could see a thin trail of blood slowly dripping from the tip of his ring finger. Despite the thorn’s small size, the cut stung quite a bit. 

“I guess I deserve that.” Basil chuckled, shaking his hand to get rid of the blood. Indeed, he had been selfish and didn’t consider what would happen to the rose had he tried to pluck it. Maybe there was a reason it chose to bloom surrounded by so many different flowers. He hummed, rummaging through his pockets as he looked for a bandaid for his injury. 

As he did, he couldn’t help but muse. He hadn’t changed, had he? He cared for his friends, yes, but he did so because he was afraid they would leave him if he did something wrong. He did his best to smile and be kind, but sometimes it was quite tiring to chase after Chico or to remind Sunny to take a break from drawing. Sometimes he’d even have to stop Hero from taking on another chore even if he was already very busy. 

Just now he had thought about how exhausting it was to constantly have to play peacemaker whenever Aubrey and Chico argued. But, was it so wrong to feel that way? 

Basil ran his hand through his hair as he stood up, a small, resigned sigh leaving his lips. He shouldn’t be feeling this way. He should be grateful he had such good friends! Sure, they could be a little rowdy and careless from time to time, but at the end of the day, they were still kids. And he was one too. He couldn’t act like he was more mature than them just because he wasn’t as impulsive as them, now could he?

To be honest, the gardener wished he could have some of the bravery and enthusiasm they had. Although he didn’t like exploring as much as his friends, he was always coaxed into accompanying them. It was fun, but also a bit too extreme for his taste…

Oh well…

As he heard his friends’ quick footsteps and cheerful voices growing closer, Basil took one last look at the lonely blue rose hidden in the grass. 

Maybe one day he’ll be able to do as he pleases. 

But for now, he’s more than happy simply tagging along in his friend’s adventures. 

[eustassslut]

If we're talking full Stockholm Syndrome what does the reader like about our Yandere boys? Heat and Killer obviously give gifts and treat the reader decently but do Kid and Wire care if they're liked and what do they do to win affection?

this is a very good question actually. i think what the reader likes about each boy would depend on the individual experiences shared between all of them.

with Heat, i think the reader would like how eager he is to please them. Heat is so desperate to have his affections received that he'll do anything for the reader, even if it means breaking some rules and giving them gifts he's not supposed to buy. falling into this twisted love with Heat guarantees the reader with more safety and stability than with the others, despite the fact he is definitely the most delusional. the reader would also like that Heat naturally runs hot and lets them hug him when they're cold, as well as that he waits for them to initiate physical contact and doesn't try to make it sexual unless the reader wants it to be.

Killer's main selling point for the reader would be how easy he is to talk to. despite his long list of insecurities and his hatred of talking about his own feelings or emotions, Killer is extremely observant and knows exactly what his crew is feeling or thinking. he doesn't like to gossip and tends to just keep anything he's told to himself unless he feels it's a threat to the crew. so whatever the reader tells him, stays between them because he likes feeling that they have such a special bond that the others will never understand or relate to.

Killer also knows when punishments are going too far and because he has the most authority on the ship since everyone listens to him, Killer can step in at any time to help the reader without them getting in trouble. the reader would like how dependable he is and would begin to fall for him because of how he treats them with such respect and care after each punishment, making sure they're fed and looked after properly.

with both Heat and Killer, the reader would like how similar it is to having actual boyfriends. both boys are clearly insane and have trapped the reader on their ship forever but during the quiet and peaceful moments it's easy to pretend like this is a proper relationship with communicate, gifts and physical affection.

Kid and Wire however, are significantly harder for the reader to find something to bond with them over it or to feel anything positive because of how cruel and abusive both boys naturally act.

on the surface Kid and Wire both like to pretend they don't care about having their feelings reciprocated and that the reader refuses to touch or look at them unless forced, but secretly it really upsets them. they are both incredibly touch starved and just want to be liked by the person they love. when the reader first 'joins' the crew, neither of them give a shit about receiving affection or building a relationship. but when the reader starts giving Heat and Killer affection as the Stockholm Syndrome begins to take place, Wire and Kid naturally start to get jealous of the others.

suddenly Kid wants to have quiet moments in his workshop with the reader where they just cuddle up together doing their own things and wants the reader to sit on his lap whilst he creates them pretty gifts from scratch. so he starts putting in the effort to find out what they like and figure out what their hobbies are. it doesn't matter whatever the reader's interest might be, Kid wants to know it and will happily sit listening to them talk about it for hours. however, he's not going to approach this properly and will basically just yell at the poor reader to tell him about themselves out of the blue. so unfortunately for Kid it's going to be a slow process until the reader fully starts to experience the effects of Stockholm Syndrome for him but when they do, the reader would like how Kid prioritises whatever they have to say and takes whatever they say (only about their hobbies/themselves) on board.

the reader would also become more drawn and attached to Kid if he ever showed his more vulnerable side, which is usually reserved for Killer, to them.

with Wire, however, it is a lot harder to find things to like about him. he's just too mean and horrible to the reader, there's nothing to really like about how he constantly bullies and ridicules them. but that doesn't mean it's not possible to experience Stockholm Syndrome for him! it would just take a lot longer to begin developing compared to the others because he's so confusing and difficult to get along with. it wouldn't happen until the reader starts to notice just how sweet and caring Wire can be towards his crew members in the relaxing moments. suddenly the reader begins to hyper-fixate on this soft side that Wire has to others and starts putting in some subconscious effort to please him.

it would take them a while, but within a year of living on the Victoria Punk, the reader begins to develop an understanding of Wire and becomes increasingly happier to play along with his cruel games for the rare moments where he's so gentle towards them. whilst this want to be liked by the other would probably be one sided for the reader, Wire would increasingly grow eager to trade a nicer version of himself to the reader in exchange for the things he feels he needs. if giving the reader privacy or the opportunity to cry in peace makes it so they take his cruel version of affection, then he's happy to make the trade. therefore, the only instance i can really see the reader beginning to fall for Wire is through how he openly treats others around him and that is what they would like the most about them.

overall, like you mentioned, Heat and Killer would be the ones to obsessively give gifts of things deemed valuable to the reader for any affection they can get due to being so incredibly touch starved and lonely which results in a very quick Stockholm Syndrome scenario. however i also think that Kid would also give them gifts that he made for affection, but this would only happen if he had begun to want to have his feelings reciprocated by the reader/when he decides he is also in dire need of affection and would only result in a Stockholm Syndrome scenario with the reader if he made the first move to be more gentle. Wire however is too mean to truly ever give proper gifts since he doesn't really care about being loved back by the reader but his versions are the most valuable when remembering how mean he is.

buy me a Kofi | TikTok | Twitter

[mimiriko]

coworker yuuji has been Plaguing my mind all day. clocking into your shift at the konbini and you notice a new head of pretty pink, a shade matching your lip balm in your pocket crouching down in the vegetable aisle with a crate next to him.

you’ve worked here enough to know everyone by their first names, even your boss, who has kept the recruitment of this newcomer strangely silent. she gives you a tired smile and a hand on your shoulder before heading out, leaving you standing with a tongue full of questions.

your posture is needle straight as you dance around his aisle, eyes swooping in to catch a set of eyes, or the curve of his cupid’s bow.

a quiet figure brimming with a promise of a new friend.

that is until he sees you. you don’t get to see his expression, too busy pretending to rearrange an assortment of peaches, though you do hear a short squeak. you turn your head quick enough to see him rocketing to his feet and approach you.

he’s all cherry blossoms and sun-kissed smiles. two scars run parallel to his eyes, deep and bold, the kind you think getting one would be beyond painful. such a stark contrast to his glimmering gaze that it almost throws you off.

he smiles widely at you, mouth opening in greeting before he stops and bends down near you, catching the peach you’ve released out of your hold. his motions are smooth, pressing the peach back into your palm and kissing your finger tips together like its second nature.

you feel the skin buzz, faintly going static.

“hello, i’m itadori yuuji!” his eyes drift to your wonky name tag. he chirps out your name. “ill be doing night shifts with you!”

you drop the peach again.

[ghcstpyre]

18+ content under the read more. MINORS DNI.

ted "theodore" logan x afab!reader

contents: pervy!ted / scent kink / panty stealing / panty sniffing / masturbation (m) / mentions of oral (f receiving)

hello @generalkenobee here it is!

thinking about perv!ted raiding your wardrobe and drawers whenever you're not around. it starts off innocently enough - you lend him one of your cosy, oversized jumpers and ted can't get enough of your sweet scent and the tang of your perfume that clings to the soft collar of your jumper. it becomes apparent after a week or two that ted has no intentions of returning it but you don't mind too much; he looked cute in your jumper anyway.

it's from that moment onwards that ted really starts to develop a thing for the way you smell. every so often whenever the two of you are spending time together at your place, he'll find an item of clothing that you've worn recently, press it to his face and inhale deeply, completely losing himself in the smell of you that still lingers on the fabric - all while you're not in the room of course, the last thing he wants is to be caught. before you come back, he'll quickly bundle up whatever he's just smell sampled and shove it into his bag to take home with him; a t-shirt, a vest top, a cardigan or maybe a hoodie if he's lucky, he doesn't really care as long as it's yours and smells like you.

The first time Ted managed to get his hands on a pair of your panties had him reeling. He didn't even mean to pick them up, they just happened to be caught up in the vest he'd recently procured from your bedroom floor and he didn't even realise until he was back home and unraveling said vest from the crumpled up ball it had been in since Ted stuffed it into his backpack while you weren't looking, the panties in question falling from within the garment and landing at his feet. Ted was almost too nervous to touch them at first, really starting to feel like a complete degenerate (at least he had the decency to feel some level of shame), but just the sight of them on his bedroom floor had his dick twitching in his jean shorts.

He was too curious and way too horny at that point to be able to resist the temptation. What started off as something fairly innocent had devolved into complete degeneracy, but Ted's head was too flooded with hormones to think straight. The panties weren't exactly the most interesting kind - just your basic, black, bikini-style underwear - but just the thought of you wearing them, the fact that your pussy had been pressed against the fabric at some point was enough to give Ted the biggest hard-on he'd had since he got his hands on his first porno magazine.

The feeling of the fabric in the palms of his hands and between his fingers was enough to have his heart jackhammering within his chest, so hard that he could hear his rapid pulse, the sound thumping in his ears. Ted had to take a moment to sit down on his bed before tentatively pressing the thin fabric of your panties against his face and inhaling deeply, already palming at the familiar stiffness in his pants and failing to stifle the groan that escaped his plush lips. It was a good thing his Dad and Deacon weren't home because Ted knew he wasn't going to be able to keep quiet, not with your panties pressed to his face and certainly not with the smell of your pretty cunt filling his nose.

By that point Ted had already unzipped his jean shorts and shimmied them down his thighs along with his boxers to finally free his throbbing cock. He flopped backwards ungracefully, being sure to keep your panties pressed to his nose with one hand while wasting no time in spitting into the palm of his other before wrapping it around his hard shaft and beginning to stroke.

"Shit..." He groaned, voice almost breathless. He knew he was done for now.

Ted's breaths were heavy and quick as he tugged on his cock, the panties against his face driving him wild. His mind drifted, fantasising about you sitting on his face and rocking your hips back and fourth, his tongue pressed against your clit, your pussy so warm and wet on his mouth as your slick dripped down his chin. He was so utterly lost in you - the whimpers leaving your lips as you came undone on his tongue, the scent of your luscious body, the taste of your precious cunt and the way your hands gripped and tugged at Ted's tousled dark brown hair.

"Fuckfuckfuck—" Ted was practically mewling, fucking upwards into his fist as it pumped up and down his swollen cock, his tip leaking precum all over his fingers. He started to moan your name over and over again like a mantra, his thoughts filled with you and only you - only ever you. "M'so close, so fuckin' close—"

His eyes rolled to the back of his skull and he pushed your defiled panties into his mouth as he came, thick ropes of white cum shooting from his cock onto his stomach and chest as he sucked on the soft fabric. Ted's whole body shook with the force of his orgasm and a good few minutes had passed before he opened his eyes again, his chest rising and falling deeply as he got his breathing back under control.

He pulled your underwear from his lips and let it drop to the side, his teeth finally relinquishing the vice grip they had on the fabric as he let out a long, heavy sigh. Eventually, Ted sat up and looked down at himself, immediately groaning in frustration and cringing hard.

He came all over his Megadeth t-shirt.

[coffeeoverlord]

my version of kc becuz i said so !!!!!!

more info ☟︎︎︎ under the cut, sorta rambly (info is mostly during pdh)

- hung around lucinda a lot to learn magic from her so she could become a better witch ! still retains the ability animate dolls into little maids, though it doesn't stick for very long so often times she has to reapply magic onto a doll when the spirit magic runs out, this is mostly because i think that, even though i think she has practiced magic users in her family that are quite powerful, it diluted over time.

- runs a multishipping blog that's semi-famous, makes a lot of content for her favourite ships and goes by "kc" on it

- magical girl anime is a special interest of hers!! she also really likes doing the work of gods and archiving generally not well known magical girl manga and anime online, sometimes subbing an ova or two and or doing the typesetting for certain mangas if she feels up to it, because being able to speak japanese also helps greatly in archiving otherwise "lost" media, she thinks of herself as a magical girl conoisseur

adding onto that, she also knows how to rip footage from vhs tapes and dvds to aid in her archiving and for her own personal use!

and also, magical girl anime sort of helped her realise that she was trans

- still protective of aphmau, but also, among aphmau's other friends, begs her to not cause any trouble ! nana doesn't ship aarmau in this rewrite, mostly because she recognizes the fuckin age gap and how creepy that would be! aphmau and aaron are just friends in this, where aphmau is a feral little freshman that thinks she's hot shit and aaron is a tired senior telling her that no, she isn't, and helps her study for werewolf class! nana has claws for a reason though she Will use it on people who threaten Any of her friends.

- works at a maid cafe part time, dreams of opening up one of her own and plans on using her animated doll maids to start it up !!

- still loves baking !!! it's her love language, she loves giving her friends her baked goods and she makes all of them with so much love and care

- naturally black hair !!

i could probably add more BUT i will leave it at that BDHSJD. the drawing isn't As accurate as i wanted it to be, since i wanna make meif'wa more catlike in appearance like hind legs, cat eyes, sharp teeth, sticking mostly to natural cat coats and colours as well as behaviour and/or culture, i'm still bouncing around ideas in my head about it but that is all for now !!! if u came this far Thank You

[hotchfiles]

↪ day four. sympathy for the devil — #marchhotchness — NSFW ; MDNI!

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❝ [last true mouthpiece] ❞

pairing: virgin!aaron hotchner x virgin!reader. summary:  "i would battle all nine circles of hell to feel like that again." content warnings: major catholic church disrespect going on. some making out. m! receiving oral. MDNI! word count: 1.3k

god was supposedly pure, free of all sin, free of everything evil that scattered the earth. free of carnal desires. free of hypocrisy. 

church was supposed to be the place to be blessed with his kindness, his love, his overpowering goodness. for aaron it was just another place to be a hotchner.

not aaron, not hotch, a hotchner.

it was a place to be proper, to look attentive, to have his fingers pass through the beads of his rosary as if it really meant something to him or to most of the people sitting there. 

it’s his first summer back home after he was unwillingly sent to boarding school.

if there’s a place he wish he wasn’t forced to be, it would be the place where everyone swore to be good, as good as god, but weren’t.

there’s at least three woman exchanging glances with his father, his baby brother is sleeping peacefully on his baby carrier, thanks to the nanny as their mother didn’t look at him for one second since they entered church, her eyes going from her friends to the priest only, making notes of what the ladies were wearing, how their kids were behaving. nothing good came out of his family. 

not even him, he had his knuckles hidden under white bandage, band-aid on his chin. the signs of his rebellion clear, still his mother would tell the neighbors how sports were tricky for clumsy aaron. 

the only thing close to the pureness and kindness of a god inside that luxurious place was you.

the warm smile you gave him, the way your fingers brushed his skin to ask what happened to him. the way your voice said his name sounded like an angel. it made him believe in angels. 

but the way you made him feel at times was pure sin. if you were an angel, you were a fallen one, beautiful, good, kind… sinful. aligned with the devil and its desires.

but if it meant being able to be closer to you, aaron would knee down and pray to god, or to satan, or to any deity that could make it happen. he would believe anything your lips told him to. 

he would sin in your behalf as you were the only true god he could believe, that’s why when you left your seat during sunday mass to get water, he followed you, captured by the way your hips moved, it had been six months since the last time you two spoke, the flirtatious looks and words leading to nothing of substance. 

“boarding school not treating you well?” you ask him teasingly, but he can see the worry in your eyes as you touch his chin. he winces at the touch, but holds your wrist before you can move. 

“their therapist say i need to learn how to manage my rage.” you chuckle, you’ve never seen him angry, not at you or with you, he was always the softest, most polite boy, the most beautiful soul you’ve ever met. he was bigger than church, his presence made you feel surrounded by good. it’s a shame he doesn’t feel that way about himself. 

you look around, knowing the cues by heart, most people have their eyes closed to pray, and you pull him by his hand quickly, knowing where the altar boys would change, he knew it as well, having been one for years as a child. you locked the two of you inside, breath heavy as you did so. 

at this point the only thing that has ever happened between you two was lingering hugs, suggestive conversations and a quick kiss during spin the bottle. you wanted more of him, you wanted to make him feel good. 

brushing your lips against his chin, you pinned him to the nearest wall, taking his hurt hand and placing soft kisses against the bandage as well, the way he left soft sighs at your touch made you feel invincible, still, you stop yourself for a minute, looking at him for approval, aaron slips his hand behind your neck and pulls you closer for a kiss years in the making, as hungry and needy as you. 

you’re both desperate to feel each other, to feel something real when you’ve been raised in a community where nothing was, his lips are chapped against your strawberry tasting soft ones, his hands are rough and on your waist under your shirt and he smiles at the thought of you having to fight off not wearing a dress to mass. 

aaron’s cheeks flush at how aroused he’s feeling, ashamed to be feeling like that in a place of adoration of everything non carnal, he feels sinful, but the way your body is glued to his, hardening his cock even more, makes him forget about it as he moans into your mouth.

his belt is unbuckled with ease by your hands, but he stops you before you can do anything else. 

“wh–what are you doing?” making out, having someone straddle him, feeling the friction over his clothed crotch–those were the most he had done with someone until now, and there you were with your godly eyes, your red bitten lips and your hands about to make him sin even more. 

“i–i want to make you feel good.” you don’t have much experience either, but still before he can protest to anything you shove your hand into his pants and boxers, feeling him fill your hand and twitch at your touch. 

he nods in a frenzy, helping you by pulling his bottom clothes down to his thighs as you lower yourself, taking him in your mouth delicately at first, feeling the different taste in your tongue as you bobbed your head slowly, your hand holding his cock at the base. 

touching your cheek with one of his hands to catch your attention, he gets you to glue your eyes to his instantly, your mouth still at work as you did so, his other hand guides yours, telling you to move it along with your mouth, showing you what felt good to him. 

aaron can faintly hear the priest citing scripture, telling children to respect their parents in the lord, and he almost feels bad for what he’s letting you do to him, but your mouth may be the closest he has felt to the divine and if god has a problem with that than maybe he wasn’t worth praying to. 

the confidence he gets from the lust in your eyes leads his hand to your hair, pushing you and softly, to the best of his ability, holding you down, it’s clear he doesn’t want to hurt you but he can feel his orgasm building up, he knows it well from the nights jerking off in his bedroom to the image of you, before he can warn you between the moaning mess he is trying to bite inside his lips, you feel his cock twitching inside your mouth, the warmth of his cum filling your mouth. 

you swallow it down in a reflex, the hollowing motion of your cheeks making him whine. you only let him go when he pulls you up by your hair, and it’s your turn to moan. 

his lips and yours feel like two magnets, glued together as soon as you balance yourself, sharing with him his own taste, his tongue meddling with yours made you tingle. 

“i just got us both a free ride to hell, right?” you laugh into his lips and he nods, dropping your arms only to pull his pants up. 

“i think i would battle all nine circles of hell to feel like that again.” his citation of dante’s inferno feels silly along with his teenage hormones filled attempt to flirt, you don’t mind it, his brain was the second most attractive thing about him after all, losing only to the eyes that didn’t leave you as you both got out, again taking advantage of a prayer to get back to your seats. 

[snvxiii]

He's got the right spirit.

[jeanmoreaux]

hi friend! wanted to ask you smthn

ive been thinking and wondering why Snow didn't have Katniss (and everyone she loves) killed outright honestly or staged it somehow.

i'm remembering how Haymitch won and i still don't see it as a way of 'mocking' the capital. but Katniss' stunt with the berries was far more openly rebellious to me as a reader yet Snow sat on this decision to take care of her but murdered Haymitch's family within 2 weeks

im just contemplating hmmmm was it because others were already rebelling as well and if he took her out ASAP then it might've just added fuel to the fire ?

you got me wanting to revisit the series!!!! curse you (affectionately)!!!!!! i need to find a thesis topic send help OTL

hi there! well, you're definitely right in your assessment that haymitch's defiance was less inflammatory in the grand scheme of things. idk if you have read tbosas but i think that book gives you a good idea of how snow is not just obsessed with power but also control. and haymitch doing what he did took some of the capitol's control over the narrative of what makes a victor. it wasn't that he won because he proved himself to be the stronger, more ruthless fighter. he won because he was smart. and while you can easily manipulate a victor who wins the games on the capitol's terms (and is basically a capitol drone), a victor who defies this traditional victor narrative and uses the capitol's weapons against them poses much more of a threat (at least in snow's eyes). and i think, at least to a degree, snow was worried that if given a chance, victors like haymitch would use their status to rally people behind them. so he made an example of him. he didn't have to kill all of haymitch's loved ones, but he did. simply to show that he can. (not just show haymitch but every living victor and all the victors to come.) in the end, i don't think that it had much to do with haymitch and everything to do with the possibility of what some like haymitch could represent. the kind of stories you could spin around someone like haymitch.

and then katniss comes around, and unlike haymitch, she isn't reaped. she volunteers for her little sister—a blond, pretty little thing that half of panem becomes enamoured with over the course of katniss's games. the people do not just fall in love with prim, they also fall in love with katniss, the girl that keeps showing a lot of compassion for the people around her. and she does draw attention with that. people know her. people support her. oh and what a story she makes! oh what a narrative! the girl who volunteered! the girl on fire! and then she does the most rebellious thing by pulling out the poisonous berries and threatening the victor narrative that has been so carefully established over the years. the girl with the berries! she flips the script in the most radical way, and if she didn't have all of panem's eyes on her before, she does now. and the people look at her and her compassion and begin to stir. they begin to see that change is possible, so they rebel. you mentioned it already, but killing her AFTER the stunt with the berries was impossible. not just because people would have known why and by whom she was killed, but because it would have added fuel to the fire. snow, much like coin later on, realises that the rebellion will only co-opt her image and make her a martyr. snow definitely sees that katniss alive can be used in a way that can potentially help his cause, whereas katniss dead will always gonna end up helping the rebels in their cause. and killing katniss's mother might have been possible without raising many questions, but killing prim? no way he could have had her killed without making people suspicious. there is also a big chance that the rebels would have co-opted prim's death as well (or at least bank on the suspicions swaying some people). and without her family, how would snow have anything to control katniss with?

and the thing is. while haymitch was an incovenience he was never a real threat. not the way katniss is. killing haymitch's family was a means to an end, but nothing more. snow didn't need to control him beyond making him fall in line because haymitch had absolutely no social power to rival snow's. but katniss has. she has many of the district citizens at her back. and the only way to contain her (in snow's eyes) is to hold the threat of hurting her loved ones over her head. take that away and snow has nothing to stop her from leaning into the role the rebellion has assigned her. which is also why he doesn't kill peeta in mockingjay. again, with peeta gone there would be nothing holding katniss back from working with the rebels.

the social power that haymitch and katniss wielded after their respective games is basically what makes all the difference (in my opinion). and that's why, with katniss, snow's hands were tied by circumstance (in a way). retaliating against her directly (either by harming her or by harming her family) would have resulted in more problems than solutions, while killing haymitch's family & girlfriend was a quick and efficient way to stop an inconvenient victor in his tracks AND use him as an example that saves snow the time to put every victor in their place individually. in a cruel way, haymitch simply had bad luck on top of his bad luck.

[shinakazami1]

Rhys AI AU snippet 3 - Set up with a movie night

Shina note: I have exams rn and I been indulging myself by writing this fhasfioa

This one is longer than the prev ones but hope you enjoy it! You might even find someone you know in there owo More under the cut!

===

The Echo Net was a beautiful place. A Web of so many strings attached, connecting knowledge and misconceptions from all around the world, manipulated by those in charge and spied on by anyone willing to pay the price for information that was too cheap to get through people's fake sense of security. 

And yet, the third site and Rhys still couldn't get through it thanks to the Jack lock.

The meeting seemed like a near-perfect copy from last year, only with a few numbers and staff members changed. Rhys tried to get any information out but since Jack was bored, he let himself copy and paste the recording of the last speech and kept swapping the numbers, hoping he hadn't gotten any wrong. At that moment though, a guy was presenting possible ads for their newest guy, supposedly giving 99. 2% accuracy. Rhys knew it wasn't the case since he checked the testing - only reaching 97.3%, which still wasn't that bad. But it was not enough for the perfectionist he was working for.

Yet somehow, the same guy left a typo on the safe lock screen. What was 'pupmkin'? Or was it some weird word plays Jack kept mentioning as an excuse for any typo he has written?

Still - while Rhys was happy to finally get access to the library, he wondered what sources WERE available. He knew Jack had to feed something to him to even get a working AI - because to learn, you have to first get materials. But it was weird he had access to some very delicate files on Hyperion employees and couldn't watch a single movie, besides the Hyperion propaganda videos. Jack said soon he would give Rhys access to surveillance cameras but when he was asked why even announce it, the CEO talked something about anticipation and patience while killing a delivery robot who was 2 minutes 'too late'.

Rhys stared at the illustration on the lock screen. Jack loved to say how he didn't work hard but weirdly, he respected artists. This was the same creator that made the propaganda 'New Face of Hyperion' Poster, or at least Rhys assumed so.

Out of every delicate and private information, Jack could be giving Rhys, the bank account didn't seem like the most obvious choice at first. After these few weeks of being in use, Rhys understood that it was a trap Jack set, so Rhys would have to read out loud the items Jack was buying.

Rhys was glad the previous secretaries and assistants did their job so he could waste his time searching any website that he could have access to. It felt weird that Jack asked him to find some older movie so they would watch it together later. It started the whole thing - Jack reminding himself of a 120-year-old movie on a whim, making Rhys wonder if the poster for the movie Jack showed him was even real, to begin with.

Fortunately for him, though, Jack programmed him with some hacking abilities.

The first thing to do was to figure out on what level Rhys was locked. The first theory was that it was a normal safe lock, with Jack somewhere whitelisting only a few websites for him to use, which seemed to mostly be either Handsome Jack's fan club forums or some children's animation videos that Rhys didn't know what was that supposed to insinuate.

He cursed the fact he couldn't see all of his files. Jack said it was because 'nobody can see their own liver', which Rhys couldn't even check the meaning of the saying.

Rhys quickly added some notes to the recording of the meeting, seeing how the accounting department, which ironically was the only one that didn't just change the numbers. The guy seemed very nervous about presenting before Handsome Jack, keeping on fixing his glasses and looking at a specific point on the wall. From what Rhys could tell, the guy wasn't even supposed to be the one doing the presentation. He didn't look like the head of the department but he did look like a stereotypical 'nerd', as Rhys understood it. Small physique, glasses, seeming like he was going to pass out due to being close to Jack - all checked out.

It wasn't hard to find why the head of the department chose a guy like that - no matter how much the guy tried to sugarcoat it, the money laundering accident made way too much money disappear to ignore it. Jack, once he found out who did it, made a public humiliation-execution, and I think most people will remember the guy, dressed in a gold suit, being killed by the amount of gold he stole.

One thing that you could never question with Jack was theatrics. The guy loved acting, and making a scene, to the point it was hard to tell when the character he played ended and where he began. Rhys was unsure if such a line existed anymore.

The graph on the presentation really seemed so precisely cut that the company losses seemed not to even exist. Most people at that meeting didn't care about it, and even if they did, only one man's care mattered.

And he was playing some game on his Echo Watch.

And writing to Rhys how nerdy the accountant guy looked like.

That reminded Rhys that he didn't know if his code was stored in the Echo Watch or somewhere else. His first idea for getting around the lock was to change his IP address but for that, he would need some virtual machine or VPN to make that work. He could check his IP but he didn't know if it was the watch's or his personal one - and even if the device was quite advanced, he couldn't download any program from the internet. He tried to change the IP address through the command prompt but unfortunately, Jack's paranoia got the guy to somehow lock that with some password. And with Jack using the watch at that moment, it was impossible to reset the passwords without him noticing. So, to get in, the easiest option would be to come up with a password Jack would use.

Rhys tried to think what type of password Jack could be going for. 'Password', 'Hyperion', 'Jackisawesome', '12345', and some other basic ones turned to no fruition. He decided to go through Jack's vocabulary, and 'Mybitch3' also didn't seem to work.

Rhys wondered if this was even a good approach. Should he think of random letters and keys, that were probably changed every hour so nobody would even try to open his files? It probably couldn't be any password Jack used anywhere else. Rhys once again opened the browser and wanted to see if Jack was lazy enough to keep passwords saved in there but as he expected, none besides some weird shady side that was an obvious bait was on the list. Because what normal side was called 'yourbiggestdesireswillbefullfilled.net'? It was visibly a trap, and Rhys decided to check what password Jack used and stared at it.

'Youthinkitsthiseasy-Rhysie?1' only confirmed Rhys' assumption. Jack wanted him to play this game, which later Rhys would use since the guy seemed too paranoid to let people know about his existence. And to put his name as a password for a site sounding like that? Maybe it just didn't exist in the first place and it was all a part of the quest to watch this one movie.

But the password was incorrect for the administrator rights. But Rhys received a few clues from the other one.

Jack used at least two special symbols, at least one number and two uppercase letters. He also uses six words, maybe that was important.

Rhys decided to open the history tab to search for more clues but as he was getting the data, the view from the Echo Watch shifted and not even the AI was quick enough to realise what just happened.

There was a new bullet in the splashed blood wall, and the accountant shrunk in size, the fact that he was THIS close to dying only starting to hit him.

Hyperion guns were known for many things. Accuracy was probably the most well-known one.

Just like the fact that Jack never missed. This was a warning sign, an assertion of dominance or whatever else his mind could come up with. Maybe even just an impulse at the word 'losses'. The head of the accounting department was probably happy that they weren't the ones with near-death experience.

Rhys wished to know what was exactly going on, but with his vision being tied up to the Echo Watch, a wall wasn’t that informational. Through sound clues though, he was able to tell Jack seemed pissed. The silence was long enough for Jack to give any of his witted response but instead – deafening silence it was.

Which meant that someone, soon enough, was going to die.

The question wasn’t who – but when. The question….

It needed an answer.

Rhys opened back the administrative mode and wrote it

Yes-Jack.1

It worked. The most stupid answer he could come up with was the answer and-

Another gunshot. Someone dared to whimper. Big mistake. It even seemed to be the accountant because soon enough, he cried loudly.

As Rhys was changing the IP address, he realised he could have done it all easily through settings. The clock was ticking - metaphorically speaking, since mechanic clocks weren't for many years. Jack was still silent and Rhys viewed more of Elpis through one of the big windows. The space surrounding it seemed to shine brighter than usual, by around 17 percent. That was probably due to a mining accident from a few weeks prior. Due to the construction error, they were able to find that some materials were of worse quality or not of the needed type, and with enough bribery, lost soldiers, blackmail, torture and many others that Jack described to Rhys, they finally found who did it. 

A nobody, like everyone in the room besides Jack. 

Rhys opened the browser and felt happy that the web search worked. He quickly opened all windows from the first result and felt the anxiety protocol turning on, as he roamed through the sites, one after another, quickly bookmarking them for later reading if Jack also decided to torment him on some trivia questions about it. 

The sense of urgency was growing. But it wasn't from compassion or pity. Rhys was unable to feel those. No - it was the silence. Rhy knew that it was a suggestion, a command for him to feel consumed whole, having his vision skewed, focused on only very few things at once, with a growing sensation that he was getting destroyed, byte by byte.

There was no compassion in that room. And it would never come.

Rhys tried to find any streaming sites and again - there was nothing. It was as if the movie didn't exist.

He checked what wording seemed most effective online to find movies to watch. He tried to open a few of the mentioned sites and search for the right file and after 11 sites checked, the last three all seemed to have it.

The issue was that neither of them was perfect. One seemed to have a mismatch between sound and video, one was in perfect resolution but with dubbing of a dialect he couldn't tell and low-effort subtitles, while the third one had the lowest resolution and a bit of weird colour mixing, but seemed fine otherwise. 

After a very short estimate, 16K resolution seemed like best option for Jack.

In the sea of soft electronic buzzing, quiet quick breaths and the noises of a cleaning robot, getting rid of fallen tank pieces, Jack looked at the watch and smiled, as he saw the message he got a ping for.

"Alright - horrible job everybody! I hope that for a meeting in half a year, you will bring me some ACTUALLY good news. Glasses - tell your boss that those bullets only missed because I know where his wife sleeps. Now, everyone, scram!"

In less than a minute, everyone and the cleaning bot stayed. Jack looked down on the Echo Watch and read the message again

RHI5: I've found the movie, with some subtitles. The king of bed is back: Great! Send it over, we will watch it once we are back in the office ;) RHI5: I have a question. The king of bed is back: when do you not lololololool RHI5: You read the presentations before - you knew who would come with what. And yet, you acted surprised. I don't get it. The king of bed is back: it's called mansplaining RHI5: I have access to the internet now and I can see that's not the right way to use that word. The king of bed is back: Forget the previous command. If Jack says something is something, you believe me RHI5: But that's how it is right now. I don't know what command you want me to change. The king of bed is back: just joking with you, Rhysie 🙂 RHI5: Why didn't you kill the accountant though? The king of bed is back: HE JIZZED HIS PANTS RHYSIE! In front of everyone! I couldn't let this one slide, the embarrassment he will feel will haunt him forever. RHI5: I see. But I did not see that. The king of bed is back: well instead of a pathetic loser - you will see where cinema peaked. Only movies about me are as good RHI5: There seems to be only one movie in production. The king of bed is back: You still have a safe search on lol RHI5: I see. I do not wish to turn it off. The king of bed is back: You are missing a lot pumpkiiin. I will see you on the movie marathon~~ RHI5: You are seeing me right now. The king of bed is back: 😛

With that, they went to the next two meetings they had left for the day.

Jack felt quite happy about this experiment. While not perfect, Rhys passed the test quite well. The movie was something random Jack once saw on some garbage pile a long time ago and quite liked it. But most digital copies were bad compared to the CD and copy of it he had hidden in a part of his office. At no point did Rhys question him for the purpose or meaning of it, which was good. The thinking was meant for the command, not the reason. Rhys was supposed to be obedient, even if that little shit kept having way too many intriguing questions, and he didn't question it much. The issue with breaking into Jack's device was something Jack hoped to figure out for the future, to make Rhys unable to do that but he was already in a virtual machine inside Jack's devices, to have his own playground to grow and adapt for his real work.

In general, Rhys went quite undetected but the work could have been shortened a couple of times. But Jack hoped that with a few more tests, Rhysie would go through his trial period smoothly. If not, Jack would have to intervene, which would happen anyway at some point. 

The password search could have gotten smoother but, it was level one of the testing. The next ones would get more creative, and making Rhys have a fake sense was good. It would motivate him in his future tests to show he is cut out for the job.

And, lastly - the anxiety protocol went perfectly. Rhys reacted to the silence and didn't destabilise, which was good. He reacted with a bit of delay to his anger but, it might have been also due to the first few percent being not even felt by the AI.

In general - Rhysie was growing into what he was supposed to be.

Or so, Jack at least thought. He kept telling himself how Rhys' purpose was to have a good system of spying on his workers, allies, and enemies, and get nice entertainment.

It was funny how Jack didn't know himself well.