#BUT I studied psychology dammit

[i-bring-crack]

funniest thing is if jinah gets to also have a system but she is like 10x better at using it than Jinwoo. If jinwoo was fast then Jinah goes for a week and come back with lv 100. She already knows everything and has found 20 so loopholes each day, all her gaming knowledge is finally being put to use and it has absolutely destroy Jinwoo who thought he was already completeling the levels in the fastest way possible but nah, Jinah even has breaks in between and she is still grinding faster than him.

#solo leveling #sung jin woo #sung jin ah #And better yet #The architect absolutely LOVES her since she actually focuses on how much #Work he has put into each instant dungeon he's made #Imagine she just gets to be a ruler after her father died and is like #I've already finished my exams now it's time for revenge #She is studying to be a doctor she KNOWS more than jin woo and will absolutely use that anatomical /medical/physiological/psychological #Knowledge to her freaking advantage out there #I need this fic now dammit

[meowmeowmeowmeow4x]

Dark Blue Moon and the Suffering Sun Chapter 20

wooo we hit chapter 20!! yeaahhh

MASTAPOST

Beautiful, sunlit beaches blanketed the coastline underneath the street level where colourful tiles crisscrossed. An umbrella kept the heat away from the rustic wooden table at which the Fenton family, minus their youngest, and Bruce Wayne sat. The SAV sat peacefully by the pier where they had disembarked.

They had been sailing for the better part of the afternoon, finally stopping to pick up lunch at Jazz’s insistence. Mr Wayne’s insisted on paying, ever the rich philanthropist.

Jazz Fenton couldn’t be more worried, although she had to hide it. Sitting opposite her, Mr Wayne idly chatted with her parents about their college days. Once she knew what she was looking for, it was painfully obvious that he was interrogating them for information on Vlad Masters, another billionaire thorn in the family’s side (not that her parents knew).

She fidgeted. Her foot tapped repeatedly on the stop, arched to not make sounds that would give her state of general anxiety away. Once she told Tucker what was happening, the boy had gotten to work right away. It would take some time to locate the files containing the specs for the newest inventions, and then more time to analyse them and pinpoint what damage she could do.

She’d need to call Sam next. Tucker had given her the number for Sam’s spare, although there was no guarantee she’d be able to answer soon.

Until then, Jazz was on her own. She picked at her sweet and sour fish broth soup, rolling the tomato chunks around. If she gave herself food poisoning somehow, that might give the boys potentially a week to get away. Then again, there was an equal chance one of her parents would stay with her while the other went with Bruce.

As it was, she could definitely malinger a stomach issue, and delay them for maybe half an hour. Sirens swam quickly, so that time could be valuable for them.

“What about you, Jasmine? What got you interested in psychology?” Came Bruce Wayne’s baritone. Shit.

Jazz was startled out of her thoughts. Before she could open her mouth, she did an awareness check. A mental checklist of where she was and what she needed to do and not do appeared in her head. If she tipped off this man, then it could very lead to her brother underneath a scalpel. No pressure at all.

“Uhm, well. Mr Wa- Bruce.” Jazz found herself stuttering when talking about psychology for the first time in her life. Dammit. She looked to the side, where her father nodded like an excited puppy. Not helping, dad.

“Well I’ve always been interested in people, you see.” Jazz kept a close eye on Bruce Wayne’s posture, studying him. “What makes them upset. What makes them happy.”

She side-eyed her parents. On one side, her mother glared viciously at her fried fish. On the other, her father arranged fries into smiling faces.

“With this family, I’ve had a lot to think about.” That was a good start, right? With any luck, he would be the one to give something away, something she could use against him.

Bruce Wayne chuckled, an easy (fake?) smile worn like a mask. “I can certainly relate. Many times my boys have left me pulling my hair out. It’s a chaotic house most days.”

That was right! Jazz recalled the preliminary research she had done earlier in the day. Bruce Wayne was known to be an endlessly kind man, but suffered several interpersonal issues over the years. One was the notorious apparent teenage tantrum thrown by an 18-year-old Dick Grayson, shortly before his second son, Jason was adopted.

The less said about Jason’s unfortunate fate, the better. Although he may have been brought back, somehow??

She wasn’t sure whether to envy his therapist or not.

It had been exhausting teasing the truth out of the myriad gossip articles on the Wayne family. If Danny were here, he’d bully her relentlessly for going back on her noted disdain towards the ‘shallow and vapid celebrity news industry dedicated to turning private interpersonal conflicts into products to be consumed.’ Oh how the mighty have fallen.

What she could be reasonably sure of was that the present-day family dynamics of the Waynes were testy, to say the least. Apparently their youngest, the Damian who had disappeared into the waves just two days ago, had been dealing with violent tendencies for some time and had no patience for entertaining the elites like his brothers used to. And that was just the public stuff.

Right. She could work with this.

“Was it difficult? In the early days, with your first son.” Jazz said, putting on tones of sympathy and empathetic connection, the kind she would use when she’d try to get Danny to open up.

A pained look came over Bruce. That was good!

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to poke any sensitive issues.” She added with false franticness. The longer the ball was in Bruce Wayne’s court, the better.

Mr Wayne waved her off. “No, it’s fine. Just old memories.”

“Are they fond memories?”

“Yes. It was the happiest time of my life. There was a lot of adjustment. I was a bachelor in my twenties, and suddenly I had an entire child in my hands. Dick had me running around like a headless chicken half the time.”

“Did it get easier?” Jazz asked. The billionaire’s eyes almost glazed over.

“Not particularly. If anything, things got harder. I learned very quickly that experience raising one child does not entirely transfer to another.”

Oh, that was good. Jazz filed this information into her mental notebook.

“But enough about me and my old man troubles.” With that endlessly disarming smile, she could tell why people fell for the playboy turned beleaguered father. “If you’re looking for a good psycho-analysis, I’m afraid I’m a bit basic compared to what Gotham has to offer.”

Drat. Was she that obvious? No, he’d just talked about her psychology interest. She could handle this easily. She just needed to be careful what she said, and didn’t say.

“I guess you could say I’m interested in non-traditional family dynamics. My parents have always been… eccentric.”

“That’s the Fenton way!” Her father shouted. Several other patrons looked at them scathingly. “Too bad Jazzpants hates siren hunting almost as much as… as…” Her father’s expression sank.

That calculating look came back in full force. Dammit dad! She needed to salvage this.

“My feelings towards my parents’ profession aside, the evidence points very strongly to Phantom being connected to my brother’s disappearance. I may not enjoy the siren hunts, but my brother comes first. What else can I do? Sit home and do nothing?”

Her father clapped her back, grinning proudly. “You wouldn’t be doing nothing, sweetie! You’d be keeping Vladdie company!”

Yeah… Jazz mustered all her will power to hide the cringe.

 “And besides, have you seen my parents when they’re at work? Yesterday they spent like 36 hours straight preparing the SAV with only one single break.” Jazz’s head fell back. “They’d probably forget to eat if I weren’t here.”

“Hey that’s not true, Jazz! Your mother and I are excellent at this work-life balance you always babble about. Yesterday we took two breaks instead of one. Progress!”

Jazz gestured to her father with an exasperated sigh. “See what I mean?”

Bruce Wayne hummed. His head tilted in thought as he sampled his mackerel. “Have you always been this responsible, Jasmine?”

“Of course! Look, I may be sixteen, but I very much possess the maturity of an adult. If it’s my job to wrangle this family into healthy habits, then so be it.”

Bruce Wayne appeared to have something to say about that. Jazz’s phone buzzed at that moment, having been turned silent earlier. It was Tucker, you miracle worker.

She shot up from her chair, twisting her expression into an agonisied grimace. “Sorry I think I’m having a bathroom emergency. I’ll be right back!”

Jazz dashed away, feeling perfectly fine in the stomach, except for her nerves.

“I have questions.” Damian told him. They were well on their way south now, Danny’s tail swishing away at top speed. Mostly the boys stayed silent, enjoying each other’s company and the rushing of water.

“Shoot.” Danny said.

“Are you a male? Or is this merely an assumption that others have made?”

Danny sputtered. The question almost knocked him off course with how sudden it was. “W-What? Why would that be a question?”

Damian hummed. “My brothers have taught me not to make assumptions. In addition, siren biology seems heavily based off of fish, many of whom are hermaphroditic in some way.”

“Uhh…”

“Which leaves us with the question. What am I to call you? For most of time together, I have been thinking of you as a male. Was that incorrect of me to do so?”

Danny’s eyes subconsciously drifted to his navel. Was he actually biologically male anymore? He’d always assumed so, but being a half-siren in a siren-hating down didn’t leave much time to learn siren anatomy in and out.

Had he been a girl this entire time? No way… No, he always acted the same as he always acted. If he was a boy before being turned, and acted the same, he could be a boy now, right?

“Uhhh yes. I think I’m a boy. Maybe.”

“For that matter, I would like to inquire how sirens reproduce. Surely the turning of humans is not the only way your species increases its numbers?”

Danny’s face heated to boiling. Blue blushes crept down his cheeks and covered his neck. “Maybe you could ask your dad about human reproduction first?” He squeaked.

“I am already aware!” Damian grouched. “I believe I deserve to know the specifics of the body which I have been forced into.”

“What if I told you I didn’t even know where siren babies came from?” Which was a sad, sad lie, bullshit that Damian clearly saw through.

“Lies!”

Danny threw his hands up, which threw off his balance for a moment. “You’re tiny. Can you guarantee your dad won’t sell me to the GiW for telling you this stuff?”

“I absolutely can.”

“Not the point! Please ask something else. You ain’t getting crap out of me on that front. I am like Davy Jones’ locker. Zip. Shut. Tight. Not happening.”

Damian seethed. This close, Danny could feel the kid’s chest vibrate with growling sounds.

“Very well. What are sirens classed as?”

“Inhuman non-sentient sea monsters bent on the destruction of humans.”

His back stung as Damian slapped him with his tailfin. “Biologically!”

“I dunno! Do I look like I have a marine biology degree?” Danny shrugged.

Damian lowered his head. “So you are uneducated.”

“Hey, rude!” Biology was never Danny’s strong suit. His mother was the one with the however many PhDs. And Sam was the one campaigning for animal rights every other week. He was more of a space guy! This was not new information to Damian! “You tell me! You’re the kid with the animal obsession.”

“I shall lay out the evidence. On the one hand, we possess scales, gills and fins, like all fish do. However, the heat your blood, despite the cold water suggests warm-bloodedness. Furthermore, I have paid very close attention to you, and the female sirens we met in your cave.”

“And what did you see?” Danny tilted his head back.

“The nipples.” Damian ground out. “Which suggests breastfeeding, which is a mammalian trait. However, I am not sure if my own are because of my former status as a human. That is why I must ask you this.”

This was definitely going to be awkward. Danny preemptively suppressed the cringe reflex.

“Do sirens breastfeed?” Damian asked. Danny blanked at that one. Yeah. That question was a hard no clue. “Have you ever breastfed?”

Damian. Oh Damian. Kids just say the darnedest things. Damian. Danny’s cheeks heated up again. He squeaked out an answer. “N-no! I’ve been on my own in the ocean.”

Damian narrowed his eyes at him. Did suspicion have a smell? Because Danny felt like it did, and he was smelling it.

“Do siren parents not take care of their children?” Damian finally asked.

Danny thought back to Youngblood, how Ember basically made him her younger brother (which made her teasing of him for having Damian around totally hypocritical). It was in this moment that he realised he didn’t know any sirens outside his normal enemies. 99% of all times he had interacted with another siren. Hell, any other sea person, was when he was fighting them.

“Danny? Danny?” Damian’s voice raised.

Danny shook his head. “Sorry, I’m just thinking…”

He sounded so pitifully sad in that moment. When a series of familiar whale calls breached the surface, he eagerly welcomed the distraction.

“We’ve caught up to the whale pod!”

Damian gasped, attention turned fully away from his interrogation. “Where are they?”

Danny carried him forward, surging to greet Damian’s new friends again. However, what he saw chilled him.

About a hundred feet away there was a small boat with a flat open deck, a dingy vessel with barnacles coating its hull, and men carrying harpoons and operating cranes, pulling in a net that thrashed violently. And on the deck, tied up by rope and netting, was a baby whale.

Damian swore in a language he didn’t understand. Danny swore too.

Damian’s fins shot ramrod straight. His teeth bared with an inhuman growl. His hand went to the sword sheathed at his waist. He itched to sink it into the bodies of these treacherous men.

“Wait.” Danny said. Wait!? What a preposterous thought. They needed to save Dorothea and her pod now.

“Are you insane!?”

His companion’s voice lowered dangerously. “You realise if we attack them, then the GiW will know, right? The whalers will call for help, or get to shore and it’ll be on the news. We’ll be hunted again.”

Damian did not hesitate. “Do you intend to prioritise our own safety over that of an endangered species being poached illegally?”

Danny shook his head. “Nah. Let’s go fuck them up.”

#dpxdc #danny fenton #damian wayne #dcxdp #merman #merboy #mermaid au #gender questions #sirens #sirens are hermaphrodites #kinda like clownfish #mer!damian wayne #mer!danny #bruce wayne #jazz fenton

[kaylinalexanderbooks]

OC Smash or Pass

Thanks @hallowedfury for the tag!

I did Carmen here who just ended with a plurality smash and unfortunately most of my OCs are 11-18 so nooo to smash or pass on them. My older characters, despite being planned out, don't have a lot of scenes on paper so I can't talk about them AS extensively as Carmen.

Except Jedi. But he's ace/aro. So let's do an acearo friendly version of this

Full name Jedidiah MacIntyre but goes by Jedi and his mom's surname because his dad sucks

It's an acearo poll but if anyone cares he's Scottish/Korean*, 6'3, 42 years old, cis man (he/him); lightish skin, salt and pepper short hair that swooshes up with a full short beard, gray eyes; naturally strong build

Wears a lot of professional clothing too

The definition of morally gray... He does some shitty things but like...he's polite about it? What!? He doesn't like what he's doing...but why does it do it??!???

Carmen from the other smash or pass poll is his best friend. That should tell you more about him

He does not learn from his mistakes

Tragic Backstory ™

He did work with the main antagonist for a bit... Then he left and worked with the main antagonist's antagonist... Who is just a different version of the main antagonist

Very quiet and understanding but has a lot of self confidence

Though he's constantly stressed because his best friend is CARMEN (read her poll I linked at the top for more)

Would take a shower with his hand on the wall as water hits his back, contemplating the ambiguity of his actions

Best of intentions. Misguided as hell.

Definition of sketchy

Obsessed with culture, psychology, and science

Unlike Carmen I won't forget to mention he is also a doctor. Specializes in the broader hierarchy and different levels and abilities of the powers given to Alii - specifically the ones in the database

Why does he put up with people obsessed with the wrong things? Cause he's too conflict adverse for his own good!! Dammit Jedi!! Why are you like this????!!!??

He's a father figure to a twelve year old girl. Given who he is, consider if this is a good thing

Shrugs off his problems. He is full of them. Man he has issues.

*ethnicities based on IRL equivalent

Check out the reblogs and vote for the longer running poll

#writing blog #writers on tumblr #writing community #writing tag game #oc tag game #writing poll #oc poll #oc smash or pass #smash or pass #acearo #asexual aromantic #asexual #aromantic #writers of tumblr #writing on tumblr #writeblr community #writeblr #the secret portal #tsp #teaspoon #jedi moon #my oc #writeblr tag games #writing

[atlasscrumpit]

Just a bargain

Marc finds a girl restrained in his apartment, Khonshu had a new mission for him

Bound and gagged you cried softly and tried to call out but nothing happened.

You were surrounded by a pitch black room, it felt like hours since you'd been taken.

Finally you heard the door open and saw a bit of light stream through.

You whined and looked up to see a tall brunette man looking down at you.

"Remind me why we had to kidnap a girl." He grumbled but no one was around.

Was he talking to you?

"Keep her alive and make sure she doesn't escape. That's all you need to worry about." A voice came through as you looked up in confusion.

You saw a bird skull behind him and screamed through the tape around your mouth.

"She's fucking terrified." The human muttered looking at you.

"Then take care of it." The skull said before disappearing.

You cried and shook your head trying to scream.

Suddenly his posture change and his eyes widened.

"Marc! What the bloody hell are you doing? Why aren't you helping her?" He said in a British accent rushing forward.

"I don't care what Khonshu said, we aren't kidnappers." He growled reaching down to your hands but he stopped and he groaned.

"Dammit, Steven. Just let me handle this." He growled, his accent changing again.

You looked up with your eyes filled with tears and fear.

“Fucking hell, Khonshu.” He grumbled reaching up to gently pull the tape away from your face.

“Please don’t kill me.” You whispered through your tears as he looked at you sadly.

“It’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you. I don’t know why you’re here, or why Khonshu told me to kidnap you.” He said sighing softly.

“Is Khonshu the skull thing?” You whispered as he chuckled softly.

“Yeah, that would be him. Wait, you could see him?” Marc asked looking to you in shock.

You nodded slowly.

Marc knew there was something more here, you obviously weren’t human or at least had ties to the Egyptian gods.

“What is he going to do to me?” You asked in fear as Marc worked on un-restraining your hands.

“I don’t know, but I’m not so cold that I would let him hurt you, okay?” Marc said as you nodded and rubbed your sore wrists.

“Come on, I’ll get you out of here. His only instructions were to keep you alive and not let you run. So, I can at least make this easier on you.” Marc said helping you stand up on your unsteady feet.

He helped you walk out of the small dark room and you saw you were inside an apartment.

You had expected a scary basement.

“This is your place? Why do you have a tiny dark room?” You muttered making him chuckle again.

“It’s a panic room, considering a lot of people want my head I thought it was a good idea.” He replied making you nod.

He helped you sit down at the table as you sighed in relief.

“Why did you have a British accent before?” You asked as he went to the kitchen to grab you a glass of water.

“I have dissociative identity disorder meaning…”

“You have different people in the one body.” You finished for him as he nodded and handed you a glass of water.

“I studied a bit of psychology and that was one of the topics.” You muttered as he looked down at you.

“Do you have any idea why an Egyptian god would want you?” Marc asked as you shook your head.

“No, my father used to teach me about the gods and goddesses all the time. He used to talk about Khonshu and Ammit a lot.” You said as Marc sat across from you.

“What would your father say about them?” Marc asked in curiosity.

“Mainly that both of their morals were stupid.” You said making Marc chuckle.

“Where’s your father now?” Marc asked as you sighed softly.

“He died when I was seventeen, I don’t know how. One day I just found his body, then I was left with his house and all the valuables he had collected. I didn’t have any other family.” You muttered as Marc looked at you sadly.

“I’m sorry you went through all of that.” He muttered before realising he didn’t even know your name.

“What’s your name?” He asked as you looked up at him again.

“My name is Y/N.” You replied making him nod.

“I’m Marc and the British one is Steven.” He said making you smile.

“And you’ll both protect me against the skull man?” You said as he nodded.

“Yeah, Steven’s a lot softer than me so don’t be surprised if he makes you hot cocoa and covers you in blankets.” He said making you laugh.

“Honestly I wouldn’t object. It’s been a long time since I had a hot cocoa.” You muttered, Marc went silent and you looked up to see him smiling.

“Marc?” You asked before he quickly stood up.

“Well, why didn’t you say so? I’ll make one right now.” He said in a British accent making you chuckle softly, you guess that was Steven.

“That would be really lovely.”

—

After having hot cocoa with Steven you had gotten to know him a lot better.

You didn’t think you would make friends with your kidnappers.

“Also, you don’t need to worry about Khonshu, I have that silly old bird wrapped around my finger. I’m not sure about Jake though.” Steven muttered drinking his tea.

“Who’s Jake?” You questioned as he looked up at you nervously.

“He’s our other alter, he’s a killer and he is Khonshu’s favourite. He wouldn’t hurt you though, w-well I wouldn’t let him.” Steven muttered, you could see he was becoming nervous.

You were about to reassure him before you heard a noise and looked up to see Khonshu once again.

“Of course you would give the prisoner a hot beverage, stupid worm.” He growled at Steven who glared at him and rolled his eyes.

“Have you learn nothing old bird? Marc and I aren’t so cold that we would just leave her to starve. I don’t care what your plans are, we aren’t hurting her.” Steven said making Khonshu scoff.

“Well, if all goes to plan I won’t need to hurt her. She’s just the tool I’m going to use to get the gods to speak with me.” He said making you both look at him in confusion.

“Why would Y/N make the gods talk to you?” Steven asked as Khonshu looked at you.

“She’s Osiris’ daughter, when they learn I have her they’ll be forced to speak to me.” Khonshu said as your eyes widened.

“I-I think you have the wrong person, my father was Leon. He died.” You said making Khonshu chuckle.

“Leon was Osiris’ avatar, once he died Osiris didn’t want anything else to do with a half human daughter.” Khonshu growled as you looked to Steven.

He knew how scared you were.

“Hey, it’s okay. We’ll sort this out. And Khonshu, you aren’t using her to get to the gods.” Steven growled as Khonshu chuckled once more.

“Watch me, little worm.”

#moon knight #marc spector #steven grant #jake lockley #Khonshu #moon knight x reader #x reader #reader insert #fic

[gay-homophobic-lawyer-show]

Obligatory Intro Post

Hello! This is @spiltsoup's silly little sideblog for Ally McBeal and the actresses on that show. I am very gay for both their characters and them as well so while the main focus of this blog is Ally, you WILL see other fandom stuff that people like Calista Flockhart, Jane Krakowski, etc. have appeared in.

tagging -I’ve started tagging all the actors along with their characters! Sometimes I also add more specific tags (90s shows, memes, etc.) so my posts can get seen a bit better. #amcb actors are posts about the actors. #the verse is for any other media they actors have shown up in, usually for gifs and clips. more to be added

Save my playlist pls I’m very proud of it

Lore under the cut!

Ah, Ally McBeal. The infamous "single female lawyer" show that annoyed a lot of people in the 90s, and allegedly killed feminism because the main character was too much of a Girl Failure.

Okay, obviously there are other layers to this show. It was one of the first drama-comedy shows, spawned one of the first memes from one of its CGI imagination segments, and it somehow (in my humble opinion) manages to be one of the best written AND poorly written TV shows of all time!

This show is such a fascinating specimen to me. Like a case study in psychology class. It's progressive, but it's sexist. It's queer-coded and it's homophobic. It's main character, Ally, was marketed as a lovable, quirky klutz who believed in true love, but in the show she's actually pretty hedonistic and selfish most of the time.

And I'm head over heels for her.

I also think a lot of people misunderstand her character, but more on that later...

Basically this entire blog is Ally McBeal

I got into this show 27 years too late and I missed the mini-tumblr revival period that this show got from Calista Flockhart being in Supergirl, but I'm here now dammit! I don't expect a lot of people to follow this blog or like/rb my stuff but, hell, I'm doing this for ME!!! Will add more to this post as soon as I figure stuff out....

Bygones!

#ally mcbeal #calista flockhart #fandom blog #side blog #90s shows #pinned post #pinned intro #amcb actors #the verse #I am absolutely starved for content for this show so I am taking matters into my own hands

[hollowfaith]

[FASHION] fet--cosplay outfit of some sort for SP*T

𝑃𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑜𝑛𝑖𝑐 𝐼𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑎𝑐𝑦 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑡𝑠 || [FASHION] Sender brings over an outfit for receiver to try on

—

2:47PM, Sanctus Clinic top floor, private study.

"This is terrible...I think I'm dying..."

"As far as I can tell, you're still in perfect health."

"No, I mean my heart! From the constant rejections and putdowns..."

"It can't be very dire if you still have enough energy to monologue."

Eiden stopped his Victorian fainting act on the couch and sat up with a sigh. "Man, I guess fishing for sympathy really doesn't work on you."

"I've never had much sympathy for you." Aurelius admitted openly from behind his desk, eyes buried in a psychology textbook. "If you're done complaining, you can leave early today."

"Huh? Didn't you ask me to come every week for an hour?"

"I'm beginning to think I was over-generous in estimating the value of our sessions." The blond peeked at him over the top of his book. "There's no helping the patient who refuses to help himself."

"Aren't you supposed to work with me as my counselor?" Eiden shot to his feet, grabbing the parcel he'd left on the coffee table and stalking his way to the desk. "I'm doing this as a favor to you too, you know. I still have a store to run!"

He placed the bag brightly emblazoned with SP*T's logo on the angel's desk and looked at him expectantly. "Since you're taking me away from my customers, at least help me test out some merchandise."

Two seconds later and Eiden was ducking below the table as Aurelius sent a flurry of writing utensils flying through the air at his face.

"I don't mean that kind of merchandise! It's clothes, just clothes!"

"Get out."

The cold tone sent a shiver down Eiden's back, but he still wanted to give it one last shot. He'd gone too far to back down so easily, dammit!

"That's harsh..." Peeking over the table, he saw that the surface was clear of potential projectiles. This guy still couldn't levitate anything bigger than a baseball, so the book couldn't fly at him on its own. If Aurelius decided to throw it at him, he'd at least see his arm moving first as a warning. "Are you really going to chase me out like that? What kind of mental health clinic leaves their patient more miserable after he leaves?!"

But Aureliusf was unmoved. "Success rates for therapy vary between patients. I've already marked you down as a hopeless case, so your disappointment is well within my expectations."

"Eh?!" Isn't that discrimination?!

"If you have nothing else to add, please leave."

"Well, fine but...Klaus is going to be disappointed." And as Eiden turned towards the door, he mentally counted down in his head.

Three, two—

"Why would he be?"

Oh hey, the blond bastard's a second early this time. Not one to waste his chance, Eiden put on his best kicked-puppy face and whirled back to face him. "Because I was telling him how you were helping me, but you're not even trying today!"

It was more empty complaints, but Aurelius actually stopped to take him seriously. His one blind spot is seriously... Eiden ducked his head to hide the growing grin on his face, putting on a pathetic air at the same time.

"I even took the time to pick this out for you...it's in your size and everything, and I made sure it didn't show any skin since someone's so uptigh—cough, I mean, conservative."

"The word you're looking for is dignified."

"Pff—cough, cough, right."

There's a long, stiff silence in which Eiden's eyes trace patterns on the carpet while Aurelius engages in a silent debate in his head. Finally, the human hears the words he'd been waiting for, dragged out from the depths of the abyss like a long-suffering sigh:

"Let me see it."

Eiden's eyes are sparkling when he looks back up. "Sure!"

—

The two of them stood over the freshly cleared table as Eiden eagerly unpacked the set. It was black, Aurelius noted—a color he rarely wore, but would look good on him nonetheless. The quality of the fabric was well below his usual standards, but then Eiden had explained that this was all for "cosplay" purposes and comfortable gatherings with loved ones—whatever that meant. He picked up what looked like outerwear and studied its precisely cut collar in puzzlement.

"Is this military garb?"

"Ehhh...sort of. It's a police uniform? Wait, do you guys even have police in your world?"

"They're redundant when we barely have crime."

"Oh, wow...but anyways, check this out! It even comes with a badge and a hat."

"And this?" Aurelius held up what appeared to be a stick with a floppy paddle attached to its end.

"Uh, that's a riding crop. You know, for...disciplining purposes."

"I see you didn't bother to bring a horse."

"Cough. It's not for use on horses."

Silence. Then—

Slap!

"Oww! What'd you whip me for?!"

"I sensed you needed discipline."

"Sheesh, if you're that eager at least give me warning fir—aurgh! OW! Okay okay, I'll stop, I'm sorry, owWWwwWw!"

Aurelius finally set the crop aside. "Is your only request for me to wear this?"

Eiden bit back a laugh as he winced. "Well, yeah." I can't really ask for anything more if I want to stay in one piece.

"How childish." Aurelius scoffed, but gathered up the pieces and headed for his private bathroom. "Wait here."

Eiden spent the next stretch of time agonizing over the best way to trick Aurelius into adopting some poses, or at least stand still enough for him to snap a picture, or maybe even squeeze in a selfie with him because damn if the guy looked good even if he was a massive prick—

The bathroom door creaked open, and Eiden caught his breath, equally eager but anxious to see the results.

Aurelius stepped out in police uniform with a faint furrow between his brows. Everything was in order: shirt tucked in, collars straightened, each button buttoned to the very top. A peaked police cap sat neatly over the center of his forehead, but he was frowning as he tugged at his hands.

"The gloves are highly impractical," he complained faintly at the leather that refused to go any lower than the middle of his palm. "Did they run out of material making these?"

When Eiden didn't reply, Aurelius looked up to see the man staring blankly at him, his expression utterly idiotic. Annoyed, the angel walked up to him and snapped his fingers.

"I asked you a question. Are you not going to answer?"

Gulp. Swallowing thickly, Eiden managed to ask, "...can you do that again?"

"What?"

"That line you just said, except—oh hold on, I forgot something." Scrambling around his jacket pockets, Eiden finally remembered his special prop and brought it out with a flourish. "Take these!"

Aurelius regarded the handcuffs suspiciously. "This isn't part of the outfit."

"No, but it fits! What kind of police officer doesn't carry cuffs around, right? Just loop them around your belt—wait, you're not wearing one."

"These pants fit well enough without," the angel was beginning to get exasperated. "Have you seen enough? I'm going to change back."

"No, wait!" Eiden hastily dug his phone out next. "At least a photo—"

"No."

"Not even for Klaus?"

"He's never requested me to wear such things."

"That's only because he doesn't know how good you look in them!" Eiden said eagerly. "Here, I'll snap one and send it to him—"

He tried to open the camera app with one hand; just as deftly, Aurelius swiped his handcuffs and slapped one end around Eiden's wrist. The human blinked in surprise before he flushed.

"Huh. Didn't expect you to start roleplayi—."

"Enough." Dragging the man after him, Aurelius found a handy doorknob and locked the other half of the cuffs around it, effectively leashing Eiden in place. It was child's play after that to pry the cell phone out of the man's fingers and toss it out of reach on the sofa in the study.

"Huh, what gives—?!"

"You're quite right that I hadn't considered Klaus' thoughts on the matter," Aurelius said calmly while waving at his own phone, which dutifully levitated off the bookshelves and into the air as it floated to his side.

"Thank you. I'll be sure to give him the full visual experience."

And before Eiden's flabbergasted eyes, he left the office for the connecting room to...have a solo selfie session. Eiden tried to follow him—but the handcuffs held firm and the door was locked, trapping him in place. He dug in his pockets for the keys, only to remember he'd left them at the shop that day for fear of losing them in transit. Short of ripping the door off its hinges or turning Houdini in the next five minutes, he was stuck.

This...

"Hey, this isn't fair!"

Predictably, his complaints fell on deaf ears.

#kleinstar #𝔔𝔲𝔢𝔯𝔶 ࿐ answered #𝔉𝔞𝔟𝔩𝔢𝔰 ࿐ drabbles #he needs to stop getting away with this but also #you reap what you sow

[randomwritingguy]

Love in the Madhouse (Harley Quinn x Reader) Part 1

Love in the Madhouse Part 1

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

The obnoxious, repetitive sound of my alarm blasts my eardrums as I slowly awake from my deep sleep. I sit up on my old, worn-down bed as I rub my eyes. Once I’m done, I check my digital clock and see the time written in red digits.

07:00

Two more hours till work. Good thing I live closely to my place of work.

Before I can even start to get ready for work, however, the phone that lies on the desk next to my bed starts vibrating frantically to the point where it starts slightly moving.

God dammit, not even five minutes.

I grab my phone and immediately answer the call without looking at the caller ID. I don’t need to. There is only one person who would call me this early. “Hey, Penny.”

“Hey, Y/N.” she responds, her voice gentle and soft. “I hope I’m not ringing up too early.”

I open my mouth to respond, only to being cut off by a yawn.

Penny chuckles at what she hears, finding my display of tiredness amusing. “I guess that answered my question.”

Yeah, no shit.

“You called up just to make fun of me?” I sarcastically respond back, rising from my bed to walk to the living room. It looks exactly as it did before I went to bed: full of papers scattered everywhere. The vague memory of me spilling my documents in my tired state washes over me as I groan internally. This is too much for a morning, especially for a working day.

“Can’t a girlfriend phone up their partner?” she teasingly responds.

If it was any other day I would have found this funny. This was not one of those days. Still, however, I persist.

“Yeah, yeah.” I reply. “At least I get to hear your voice before heading to work.”

“Aww, that’s so sweet. You always have your way with words, dear.”

“If you say so.” I dryly reply, too tired to come up with any other response.

“You excited about tonight?”

Huh?

“Tonight?”

“Yeah, we’re going to Pauli’s Diner after you finish work tonight, remember? We made plans about it a couple days ago. Don’t tell me you forgot about it…”

I detect a trace of sadness as she trails off. Shit. I completely forgot about that.

“No, no, of course not.” I lie to her with fake excitement. “I’m still tired from waking up. Brain is not fully working yet, you know?”

I hear a sigh of relief on the other end. “Good. I’ve been really excited about it. It’s going to be great!”

“Yeah…”

The conversation goes on for a few minutes, talking about simple mundane stuff. As she talks about something I couldn’t care less about, I look back at the clock. I’m planning on getting to work around 08:15-08:30 ish so I can have a break before I start. If there is time to get ready, it is now.

“Penny, I would love to talk more but I really need to get ready for work.”

“Okay, love you.“

“Love you too.”

I silently hang up and place them onto the kitchen counter.

Dammit.

Three words. Three simple words. A while ago they were full of genuine energy, happiness, and love. Nowadays it feels rehearsed.

I still remember when I first met Penny. We were both students at Gotham University. I was studying psychology and she was learning finance. We shouldn’t have met, really. The chances of seeing each other were so slim. And yet on a cold October day, when I was late to one of my lectures, a caffeine addicted student that was me accidentally ran right into her. One small talk and here we are. We’ve been dating for the past few years. The first couple years, it was amazing. I felt like I was made of gold. Now, somehow, that gold has begun to rust and corrode away. It’s not her fault. Really, it isn’t. It just…happened. Over time the relationship just felt…bland. I didn’t get excitement or thrill anymore. Most of time I have to fake it for Penny’s sake.

I should break up with her. I really should. And I plan too…just not yet.

I’m such a coward, I know that, but…Penny is one of the only few things that make me feel…alive anymore. Or, at least, close to it. Without her…the closest thing that could replicate the same effect as Penny was my job…

…at Arkham Asylum.

Speaking of which, I really should get ready for work.

  I arrive at 8:30 sharp as usual. Everything is the same as I left it last Friday. The same narrow, almost claustrophobic, corridors, the same large, dusty framed painting of the warden by the reception desk and the same old and tired doctors with all the hope they once had vanished. And that is not even mentioning the same variety of inmates or, like some guards like to describe them as, “pyschos”.

I haven’t worked here for too long. In fact, last week was the one-year anniversary of me being a psychiatrist at Arkham. I still remember my first day. Everything seemed so bright. My love for Penny burned as bright as the sun and my optimism and passion were through the roofs. I had so many ideas on how to cure Gotham’s rogues gallery, so many dreams of curing this city from the ilness that has plagued its roots for far too long.

Many doctors at Arkham merely scoffed or rolled their eyes at my naivety when I first arrived, claiming that I will soon lose them in this hellish place.

My love for Penny was lost. My passion? My determination to save this city? Absolutely not.

And that passion, that determination, led me to my first breakthrough:

My successful treatment of Gotham’s infamous Julian Day, once the criminal known as the Calendar Man.

It was tough, it was exhausting, and required a lot of patience of Mr Day telling me all the monstrous crimes he committed on certain holidays, but it was all worth it. Coincidentally, last week was also when Julian was released from Arkham Aslyum as a cured, sane man. I don’t know what he’s going to do, but I’m just glad I cured a piece of evil that stenches the city.

The ill in Gotham can be cured. I was sure of it then and I am sure of it now, and Julian Day is living proof.

I walk into my office and casually placed my bag on the sofa and my files on my desk. It was decently sized and decently cleaned. I haven’t really decorated mine as much as others have. Some have tons of picture frames of their families and friends on their desks and called it a day. Others have nothing at all. As for me, I don’t have any pictures of my family. Not anymore at least. I haven’t spoken to my parents in years since I told them I wanted to be a psychiatrist rather than a gymnast like they wanted me to be so I could carry on the family tradition. I don’t care, though. Not anymore. All I have on my desk is a picture of me and Penny hanging out at an amusement park a year ago.

The thought brings my attention to that very same picture, lying there at the right corner of my desk. I haven’t moved it in so long that dust surrounds the frame. I carefully lift it up and examine it closely. In front of a giant Ferris wheel there is Penny, her beautiful black hair curled up into a ponytail and her bright blue eyes shining with excitement, grinning without a care in the world, and me, who shares that exact grin.

I remember that time. It was a good memory. It was before everything in this relationship went to shit, on my side anyway. I felt…alive.

“There’s my favourite doctor!”

The joyous voice snaps me out of my thoughts as I turn to look at its origin.

Of course, it was him. I recognise that carefree voice, that short black beard, the warm, honey-like eyes, and the messy brown hair from anywhere: my best friend, David.

“There’s my favourite security guard.” I joyously respond back. I place the picture frame back onto my desk, now long forgotten like it once was.

David and I met during my very first experience of a riot at Arkham when Basil Karlo was trying to escape. I would have been killed if he hadn’t intervened. Since then, we have been best friends.

The security guard walks up to my desk holding up a newspaper in his hands and plants it on it right in the centre.  “Sorry to tell you, bud, but your breakthrough with Calendar Man has been overshadowed.”

I glance at the headline of the paper. There, in big, bold, black letters it says: “BATMAN SAVES MAYOR FROM CLOWN PRINCE OF CRIME”

Why am I not surprised?

“Eh, it’s fine.” I tell him, shrugging as I do so. “I didn’t become a psychiatrist to be famous. I did it to save lives.”

My genuine tone makes David chuckle. “Always an optimist.”

I chuckle back. “Hey, that’s what you like about me.”

He hums in agreement. “That is true. Not many doctors tend to be optimistic after a while. The fact that you’re still hopeful is an achievement in itself.”

He’s right. I can’t name a single doctor who starts their day with a smile.

“I’m one of a kind.” I smartly tell him. “Anyway, when did that stuff with Joker and the Mayor happen?”

My question leaves David open mouthed, his jaw nearly dropping to the floor. “Are you for real? It happened last night!”

Last night?!

“What? Seriously?!” I tell him, as I glance back at the opening article. Yeah, it does say the attack happened last night.

“Yeah! It happened eleven at night, it was crazy! How did you miss it?!”

Ah…that explains it.

“I might have fallen asleep from utter exhaustion.” I told him, rubbing the back of my neck.

My friend sighs heavily and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I thought you said you were going to relax a bit after our last conversation.”

I nervously chuckle at that, a spark of guilt forming in my gut. “I know, David. I just can’t help myself. I really want to help the patients here.”

He looks back up at me and his face softens slightly. “Yeah, I know, but you can’t help anyone if you look like you’re about to pass out.”

I know he’s right. It’s the truth. But it’s hard to relax nowadays. It’s hard to stop doing one of the few things that make me feel more alive than ever.

Still, to ease his conscious, I relent. “Okay, okay, you’re right. I’m sorry. I’ll try to relax next time.”

My reassurance seems to bring my friend relief as the tension from his body is released. Before either of us could say another word, however, a monotone female voice erupts the intercoms.

“Can Dr. Y/N L/N please visit Professor Hugo Strange’s office.”

Shit, not Strange.

“Uh oh.” David speaks up, slight worry in his voice. “You got to visit Strange.”

I groan loudly, rubbing my hands down my cheeks dramatically. “Fuck sake. I hope he’s in a good mood today.”

Strange is quite possibly the most brilliant mind in this place, far smarter than all the doctors here. I heard he travelled around the world learning a variety of psychological methods to help in his therapy for his patients. He’s so good that he has even caught the eye of Warden Sharp. I was so excited to see him when I first got here, so happy to see a brilliant professor at last. When I finally met him, he didn’t even bat me an eye. He quickly walked past me, bumping shoulders in the process, and rudely commented that I looked unprofessional. Since then, I learned that Strange is certainly not the man I thought he was. He cares very little about his patients nor his co-workers. In all honesty it seems like he’s only a professor just so he could manipulate his way into becoming famous and having some level of power.

And now I have been summoned to his office. Terrific.

David pats me on the back and walks out of the room, muttering a sympathetic “Good luck.” Before he vanishes from view.

Okay, Y/N, calm down. Maybe it won’t be so bad.

After all, what’s the worst that could happen?

  This is the first time I am ever in Professor Strange’s office and, quite frankly, it is just as I imagined. The atmosphere is cold and distant, much like the owner itself, with every piece of necessary equipment meticulously organised with not a single item out of place. The only picture that I can see on the dull, grey walls is Strange’s framed P.H.D degree.

A rough cough interrupts my thoughts as I turn to see the man of my thoughts himself, sitting behind his desk. His eyes behind the circular specs of glasses are just as chilling as the atmosphere in this room, his short brown beard so sharp it could cut you just by looking at it, and his pure white uniform resembling a mad scientist from a science fiction movie.

“Good morning, Doctor L/N.”

I gulp at the hard voice that emits from the man’s mouth. Its full of power and confidence. He has complete control of the situation.

“Good morning, Professor Strange.”  I reply back, trying to mimic his confidence.

Strange gestures the chair in front of the desk with right hand, his eyes never leaving mine. “Please, have a seat.”

I slowly but surely make my way over there, each step feeling like a lifetime. When I finally sit down, I realise how close we are. His dead eyes have not blinked once.

“Now, Doctor L/N, I understand you have quite a busy schedule today so I will not waste our time.” Strange coldly states. “I am sure you are aware of last night’s incident.”

I nod slowly in confirmation. “Vaguely, Professor Strange. I only know that Batman saved the Mayor from the Joker from the newspaper.”

Apparently, my answer seemed to irritate the professor, who proceeds to huff in response. “Vaguely? Have you been living under a rock?”

Did he just ask that? That fucking ass-

-No. Stay calm, Y/N. Just stay calm.

I take a deep, long breath in an attempt to calm myself. Once I release it, I try to give the nicest answer possible. “I was quite tired last night from my work, so I had an early night. I only just heard about the incident a few short minutes ago.”

The professor hums in acknowledgement. “I see. So, I take it you are unaware that Harleen Quinzel is a patient once again at our establishment?”

Harleen Quinzel?! Harley Quinn is here?!

Surprisingly, I have not once seen her as a patient in the asylum. I heard from some of the guards and doctors that she and her “boyfriend” escaped during a riot over a year ago. But now she’s back?!

I force my face and tone of voice to remain neutral to disguise my shock. Whether I succeeded or not is unknown. “I was unaware of that news.”

His eyes still have not left my own. Not even once. “Of course. She was captured by the Batman during the attack at City Hall and was brought here. The Joker, on the other hand, escaped his grasp. From what I heard him and the GCPD are trying to locate him.”

I nod slowly at his words, trying to understand the point he’s making…but failing. “With all due respect, Professor Strange, but how does this relate to me?”

The man huffs again, clearly impatient and frustrated that I have not figured out whatever he’s planning. “Who are the patients you are currently treating, Doctor L/N?”

My patients? How are they connected? Shouldn’t he know that anyway?

“Waylon Jones, Edward Nashton, Victor Fries, and Harvey Dent.” I carefully list out.

“And I believe Mr. Dent is your more recent patient out of the rest after the leave of Julian Day, am I correct?” he continues.

“Yes, sir.” I reply.

“I see.” He simply says. “Well then, I am sure Mr Dent would not mind too much when he is transferred to another doctor.”

TRANSFERRED? ANOTHER DOCTOR?

“Transferred?!” I immediately respond, leaning forward in a flash. “Why is he being transferred to someone else? I voluntarily chose to tackle Mr Dent’s case, Professor Strange. Not many doctors around here have done that.”

My upset reaction does not move Strange in the slightest. In fact, I can see a smirk slowly forming on the left side of his lips. He’s enjoying this.

“Because, Doctor L/N, you will be focused on another patient. Specifically, Miss Quinzel.”

WHAT?!

HARLEY QUINN IS GOING TO BE MY PATIENT? HARLEY QUINN? THE WOMAN WHO BIT OFF A DOCTOR’S EAR THAT ONE TIME?! THE HARLEY QUINN WHO IS OFTEN TO SAID TO BE CRAZIER THAN THE JOKER?! THAT HARLEY QUINN?!

“Sir, with all due respect, I don’t think this is a wise decision.” I carefully explain to him, trying my hardest not to make him mad. “Miss Quinzel has shown to be quite dangerous around the doctors a lot of the time. I heard she even bit an ear off of one of them.”

Despite my caution, my words cause Strange to sneer violently. “And yet you have no problem having an animal as your patient.”

That fucking asshole. Of course, he brings Waylon into it.

“Waylon is not an animal.” I grunt out, my teeth grating as I say it. “He is a human being. A person, just like the rest of us.”

Strange then has the absolute audacity to sarcastically laugh at my statement as if I was telling a funny joke. “Don’t fool yourself, Croc is an animal. He is cannibalistic killer who hates humanity.”

I have been Waylon’s doctor for the past few months now. While it took a while to get through to him, he eventually warmed up to me when I actually treated him like a person unlike everyone else. From what he has told me about his past, I certainly don’t blame him for hating humanity.

“Waylon is learning.” I tell him. “Progress is slow, but it’s progress nonetheless.”

Strange rises from the desk and walks to a file cabinet at the left corner of the room. He opens one of the draws and quickly pulls out a file and places it on the desk right in front of me. In big, bold letters I see the name “DR. HARLEEN FRANCIS QUINZEL”

“If you have no problem “helping” that animal then I’m sure you will have no problem helping your new patient.”

No, no, no, this cannot be happening.

“But why me?”

“Why not you?” he counters. “You have only been employed at Arkham for a year and you managed to, quote on quote, “cure” one of Gotham’s infamous killers. Miss Quinzel is one of the most dangerous criminals in the city. Warden Sharp himself believes that you can get through to her for the benefit of Gotham.”

Ah…now I see what this is about.

“Is this about “the benefit of Gotham”…or is this about helping the Warden’s mayoral campaign?”

It’s no secret that Warden Sharp cares more about his reputation and ambitions to be mayor than his co-workers and patients, much like Strange himself (no wonder they get along). When Julian Day was released, Sharp received nothing but praise. If I cure Harley Quinn herself then he would win the election by a landslide.

My accusatory question makes Strange sneer yet again and proceeds to lean forward until our faces are inches apart, his eyes glaring daggers right into mine.

“Remember your place, Doctor L/N.” he spits out. “You are going to take this case and you are going to help Miss Quinzel, otherwise I recommend you should explore your career somewhere else. Are we clear?”

What?! He’s going to fire me if I don’t do this job?! He can’t do that! Right?

But then again…he does supervise all the other doctors. And I think there was that one time where he fired a doctor who couldn’t meet his absurd standards…

He’s going to actually fire me if I don’t do this job, huh? After that massive breakthrough I accomplished, I’m still a disposable asset to him? To the Warden who would no doubt listen to his favourite doctor?!

FUCK!

“Crystal.” I reply through gritted teeth, my anger evident.

My eventually compliance brings a smug smile on Strange’s lips, pleased by my reaction. “I am glad we came to an understanding, Doctor L/N. You’re first session with Miss Quinzel is tomorrow morning at 10:00am. That will give you plenty of time for you to have a look at her file. Good day.”

I slowly rise from my chair and grab the file, my eyes never leaving his. My heated gaze is an inch of my boiling anger, its intensity rising every damn second I’m in his office.

“Good day, Professor Strange.”

I walk back to my office, every step feeling like a lifetime, as I realise the reality of my situation.

That bastard! That fucking bastard! He thinks can do this to me?!

“Hey, there you are!”

I look up and see David approaching me, a concerned look written all across his features. “What’s wrong?”

I release a long, painfully heavy sigh as I give him my blunt answer.

“Harley Quinn is going to be my new fucking patient.”

#harley quinn #harleenfrancesquinzel #harleen quinzel #harleen quinn #original character #dc #dc comics #batman #joker #hugo strange #quincy sharp #arkham asylum #doctor/patient #reader #reader insert #x reader #dc x reader #dc x y/n #Self Insert #secret relationship #fall in love #forbidden romance #harvey dent #two-face #edward nashton #riddler #waylon jones #killer croc #victor fries #victor freeze

[strbymacaroon]

❀ After Last Night. (I Think I’m in Love With You.) ❀

❀ Armin Arlert x Reader ❀

Master-list: Here

Current Chapter (1): Me, Myself, and I… and Fine, Maybe, a Flower.

❀ Sypnosis:

You loved your line of work… enough. That is if you could even call it a line of work.

It paid good, and you had your best friend Connie by your side. It could be worse. And now, you had another thing to worry about… Hiding this not-so approving line of work from your new roommate, Armin. A boy who rivals your own major, more than two academic weapons.

Tensions are high, and you are always one second away from clawing out his throat. And, for some reason, the way he's so patient with you, only furthers this emotion. To say this situation was less than ideal was to put it lightly. And, unfortunately, it wasn’t in the sexy way your classmate, Historia, romanized it to be.

But, you can’t shake the thought—why the hell does he look so familiar?

❀ Genre:

Alternate Universe - College/University, Questionable Job Choices, Double Life, enemies to lovers??

❀ Content Warning:

Gun Violence, Deception, Past Sexual Abuse, Psychological Trauma, Sexual Tension, Eventual Smut

❀ Word count:

7.9 K Words.

College was a hassle. You decided the best way to bathe in money, figuratively and literally was this. You liked writing, it was one of your passions back in highschool, but this— this was fucking obsessive. 

A part of this was your fault.. You decided to just start writing an essay assigned—months ago. But, in your defense, the professor should at least make it less than it already was, a fifteen-thousand word essay. About the current law studies students were going over this quarter. 

How the hell are you supposed to make it fifteen-thousand words?! You could sum it up in four. ‘Don’t fucking kill people.’ Hell, you could sum it up in three.

You glanced at the word count, then back to your textbook. Groaning loudly, “Fuck, I should’ve stayed with Connie.” He would’ve at least helped you. And, you would’ve been in a more quiet environment. Since your roommate was so rudely blasting music in the living room. Your eyes flickered over the time, ‘6:24.’ You opened the document you saved of your teacher's syllabus. Checking the late assignments. 

Dammit. Of course this was the only professor who didn’t take late work. Fuck me. The sound of your phone ringing brought your attention from the bright screen of your computer. Shuffling your hands around the bed, searching for your phone. You picked up your phone, glancing at the username. 

‘Client.4’ 

Another groan came from your mouth, you completely forgot about how busy you were going to be today. An essay was due, and of course a client wanted to meet up. You mentally cursed yourself, this client also promised to find you a better apartment, so you couldn’t ditch out on plans—

“Y/n!” 

You grabbed your pillow, and silently screamed into it. Before you quickly got up, pulling the door back. Glaring at your roommate. “What do you want?” Your hand was sassily placed on your hip. 

Hitch invited herself into your room, you peaked your head out. Noticing the music only become louder— if that was possible, once you did so. You closed your door, only muffling the noise. As Hitch was currently nose deep into your pillow, inhaling the scent, she always expressed how your room smelled like vanilla, with a sweet strawberry after-smell. Whatever that meant—

You remember vividly telling her, that maybe, if she stopped smoking weed, and put a smell enhancer in her room. She could have a nice smell as well, she just gave you a dirty look. Hitch looked away from your pillow to you. 

“I have a plus one.” Hitch playfully sang, wiggling her shoulders playfully. She looked down and scooped up your fluffy white dog, cuddling it. She cooed at Fluff, while you answered her question. Going back to work. 

“Hitch, c'mon. You should go to bed, you’re already drunk. No more parties.” Not that it mattered, she was already sleeping on your bed. She reeked of weed and beer, the only reason she came to your room was because she was a slob. Hitch’s room was a pig's pen, and she barely cleaned it and went to class. 

Hitch was the iconic hot girl, she always loved the idea of partying and invited you out often. With you mostly refusing. You could recall you went one time, but decided you would never again. She had pink hair, and a dramatic makeup look that every girl was envious of.  

To be honest you loved her. In some weird, forced way. 

But. Hitch was like a child, it was like you were taking care of a damn child. 

Then there was your other roommate, he wasn't too horrible. He was horrible to you. You didn’t even want to name him. That’s how horrible he was. 

Hitch could strongly disagree. 

Hitch had the time of her life with him, and made sure you heard. You hoped it wasn’t on purpose.. Then, when they weren’t together, he was in your room, trying to get with you, or doing his homework. If he didn’t want to do it, he’d ask for help, or for you to do it altogether. 

Clearly had never done anything in his life. From your perspective he was the definition of daddy’s money. Throwing a fit every time you refused his advances. Then again, he had his moments of bliss. In those situations, you did somewhat enjoy his company. 

Glancing at the time again you decided it would be best to go with your client, get the money and save up for a new place. This client did say they wanted to find you a new sweep, pay for one monthly fee. Then, the rest would be up to you. He said something along the lines of, “I don’t want my princess living in such a disgusting place.” 

You placed a hand on your temples. God, you hated this client. 

You pulled out your phone, calling a number you favorited. Was it saved? No. But, you called them far too frequently than you’d like to admit. Especially with your line of work. The phone rang four times, before the other line picked up. 

“Y/n? How’s it goin’, you enjoying your night.” His voice was smooth, almost hypnotic. 

“You know damn-well what’s happening tonight, Furlan.” You groaned, glancing at Hitch. Leaning on your door. “I need you to do something for me, it’s for my education.” 

“You’re still doin’ that, babe?” Furlan laughed, “What’s the point, half the people you talk to, could set you for life. There’s no need for that stupid education.” 

You rolled your eyes, “I can’t do this forever, my ‘supple youth’ is short lived, so is my beauty.” You laughed to yourself, “I wouldn’t be this good at my job, more or less making this much, if I didn't look like this.” 

Furlan was silent for a second, “Fine, that’s fair.” He sighed, “What’s the assignment you need me to do?” 

You cringed to yourself, but said it with the utmost confidence. “A fifteen thousand word essay?..” 

“Fuck me gently.” 

“Hell no.” You blinked a few times, “Same price as last time?” You tapped your fingers against the door, waiting for his response. 

“I’ll do it for free if you say you love me.” Furlan cooed.

“Fuck off.” You promptly ended the call, quickly sending the money to him. Money was money in your eyes, it didn’t matter how much you spent when the numbers were always piling up. 

You walked to your closet, pulling out a box near the corner. This certain client always said they like the— what was it?... Oh, that’s right, cute and seductive look. 

You pulled out the white fluff, and wrapped it around your body, grabbing the pink dress beneath it. You also grabbed a pearl necklace, along with some heels, something this very client also bought you. 

You pulled up your phone, and checked your personal documents. Looking over the names, and clicking ‘Client 4.’ Your eyes skimmed over the long paragraphs and wording, especially looking for something. The prices. 

“Additional 5k for intimate contact.”

That money would be something you could send to your parents. A small laugh escaped your lips, as you grabbed at a lingerie set. You didn’t necessarily enjoy sleeping with people, but if it was a man your age—and they were attractive. It could be a good night…

If you topped, that is. 

Then again, these were men in their thirties, paying for you to be by their side. What was the word? What did people describe it as?… Sugar Babies? That sounded right. 

You had no comment on how people viewed you, or your “work.” You were the one making money after all. And, it wasn’t too bad. Most of the time you were sitting next to a man, talking about their interests, or life in their youth. Then, if you’re polite enough, they'll treat you to gifts. Money was a given, I mean, they are paying for your time. 

You looked back at your roommate, seeing as she fell asleep. You rolled your eyes, placing a blanket over her head, before changing into your outfit. Once you did so, you changed Hitch out of her heavy clothing. Giving her some of your pj’s to wear, and placing the blanket over her again. 

Quickly spraying on a perfume you only used when you met your clients, then applying makeup. Trying to keep it subtle and classy, but since you got your nails done, it has been hard to apply any type of makeup. But, you liked them nonetheless. A simple white, coffin shaped set. 

You grabbed at your keys, and dug into your drawers, pulling out a tylenol along with a water bottle. Placing it on your nightstand and turning off the lights, leaving the small lamp on your desk on, for a subtle light. Then waking out of your room, locking it behind you. Hitch was going to be asleep for a while, and you didn’t really trust your other roommate. 

Walking to the main door you were greeted with your roommate, Floch. You waved to him, noticing his friends looking at you. He narrowed his eyes at you questioningly, “Damn where are you going? Isn’t this the fifth time this month? You a stripper, or something?” 

You scoffed, looking away. “There's nothing wrong with strippers. Besides, if stripped didn’t exist, you wouldn’t nearly have the amount of fun you do. And, I’m meeting up with my family.” You pulled down your dress, walking towards the door.  

Floch laughed, “Wearing that? Sure. What about Hitch? She came here smoked. She still looking for a fun time?” He tapped his finger against the couch, his head tilting to the side. “Or, do you want me to wait until you come back home, so you can listen?”

You scoffed, swiftly turning to him. Noticing his friends snickering. “Very funny.” You seethed, “Let’s see if the school board also finds it funny.” Your grip on your keys righted, “Fuck off, asshole.” You closed the door behind you, swiftly turning around and flipping off the individuals. 

You heard a faint, “She won’t tell shit, don’t worry.” Making you groan, as you walked off. Floch was right, you wouldn’t tell anyone. 

It took you some time to finally reach your car, and you almost moaned in happiness. Unlocking your car you slid in, enjoying the sleek cold of the leather compared to the warmth of your skin. Turning it on, and driving to your agreed meeting place.

You parked and were immediately greeted by a blonde individual. He had a lanky smile, handing you the wad of cash. Quickly skimming through the money, it was everything agreed on. 

It was just the mere attending fee. You bent over back into your car, making sure to give the man a clear view of your panties. Then coming back up and locking it up, placing your keys into your purse. Something this said client bought for you. You made sure to remember what each client wanted from a woman, which made you sick to your stomach. 

Especially this client.

At least he paid well. 

He extended his arm, and you took it. Batting your eyelashes and smiling. He tugged on your arm, leading you to the event. 

“Hi,” He placed his hand to the small of your back, kissing your cheek. Then to your lips, smiling at you. Pulling you close to his chest, “I got you a little something, it’s a surprise.” 

You bit your lip and giggled, going in for another kiss. “Really? You don’t have to, I just love spending time with you. Nothing else.” Your hand on his arm tightened. 

He started walking, leading you to the event. “And, I love spoiling you, nothing else.” You turned away, and lightly scoffed, rolling your eyes. 

Men really believed anything fake, especially if it catered to their favor. “Really?! Okay! I’ll promise to be good, only for you though.” You lightly pouted, lightly pressing a finger to his nose. 

You had to fake your personality with alot of your clients. They were all typical stereotypes, so you had to be a stereotypical girl to get them to pay well.

He chuckled, taking your hand and kissing it. He brought you into a hug, lightly scraping his lips over your neck. His breath fanning your neck. “I can’t wait to take you home.” You scowled, turning away. When he pulled away you smiled, and lightly giggled. 

“Okay,” You shyly said, starting to whisper your last words. “Me either.” 

  ‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿

You glanced at the time in your car, then to the bag in your passenger's seat. You need to change, the chance that your roommate is still up is— one hundred percent, there’s no way he’s asleep.

Maybe, Hitch? She’d be just waking up though. You stopped at a random Target, parking in front of the store, removing your white floof from your neck. You grabbed a small wad of money, and locked your car, getting glances from people that passed you by. It just made you walk even faster. 

A voice made everything freeze in time. Fuck. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder, grinning into your ear. “Y/n!” He sang. 

You sighed, turning your head to him. “C'mon Connie, let's not do this now.” 

Connie huffed, grabbing your hand and leading you to the clothing area. “Lets not what? Help you out?” You lightly scoffed, catching a glance at one of the mirrors. Noticing the marks scattered along your body. 

“This client never holds back, I swear. Might as well burn my whole body.” You lightly traced the marks, Connie laughed handing you a pullover hoodie. 

“Yeah, I also have a client like that.” You grabbed a pair of sweats, along with some sandals. Connie grabbed a soda, taking the clothing you picked out. “I’ll pay.” 

A relieved sigh came from your mouth, as you followed the boy to the check out. A light yawn coming from you. Connie turned his head to you. “Tired?” 

You lightly nodded your head, rubbing your eye lightly. “Very. I’m not very... fond of this certain client.” 

Connie nodded his head, placing the items on the railing. “Let me guess, misogynistic?” 

You laughed, “Not openly, but definitely internalized.” 

Connie handed the lady the money, giving her a flashing smile. Making her giggle and hand him back his change, giving you a dirty look. 

A slight growl came from you, but you played it off as a laugh. “Oh please, you can pay for his services. But, I don't even think you would afford it.” Connie laughed, dragging you away from the situation. Making you grumble, “I don’t know why she had to give me a look, why didn’t she give you a look?”

Connie sighed, letting you take the lead to your car. You unlocked it and opened the backseat, going in while Connie handed you the bag. You rolled down your window a tiny bit, hearing Connie’s words. “The reason she gave you a nasty look is because she was jealous.” He paused for a second, like he was thinking. “Insecure, is how some would put it.” You slipped off your dress putting on the pullover Connie had bought you. “You know Y/n, you make it hard for people to like you.” You scoffed, putting on the sweats. 

“And, how’s that?!” You sounded offended. 

Connie scoffed, turning his head to the store. “Dude, seriously? You just yelled at a girl, shaming her about the amount of money she makes.” You slipped on the sandals, walking back out of the car. Connie sighed, “What happened to you, Y/n? What happened to the girl I knew back in highschool.” 

You leaned on the car. Mimicking Connie’s stance. “How am I supposed to know? I’m growing up, I can’t take time outta’ my day trying to understand everyone’s problems.” 

Connie scoffed, looking back at you. “But, you used to make an attempt.” 

A bitter laugh came from your throat, as you opened the car door. “Yeah, then everyone turned against me.” 

Connie placed a hand to your cheek, placing a kiss to your forehead. “Everyone, but me, sexy.” 

You laughed, taking his hand into yours. “You’re such a pick me.” 

Connie shoved your face into the car, closing it behind you. “This is why even I don’t like you.” You scoffed, turning on your car and pulling out, giving a final wave to your best friend. 

To be frank, all this money you made was thanks to him. He’s the one who got you into this sort of business. 

Buutt~

The only reason he did it was, because he didn’t want to do this shit alone.

You made bank, so— it didn’t bother you too much. Honestly, you constantly think back to the exact conversation. At first you disagreed, and didn't want anything to do with it. But, the more Connie explained, the more intrigued you got. You even said sex was off the table at first, it just amuses you now when you look back on it. 

"No, I'm good." 

Connie groaned, toying with his sleeve. "But, you'd make so much money, since you're such a wallflower. No one would suspect a thing!" 

You let out an amused scoff. "I’m not a wallflower." 

Connie hummed, rolling his eyes. "Still, you'd make a lot of money, again— men like innocent people.” He laughed. “Believe me, I know." Connie finished writing the answer, showing you the paper. Followed by you circling the first word, telling him it was misspelled. He lightly groaned, fixing it and handing it back to you. "You should think about it." 

You huffed, circling yet another mistake. "I don’t know, I don’t want to get killed, or worse raped." You looked to the side. 

Connie pressed his lips together, turning to the side. "That’s completely fair, but I promise you that’s not going to happen. We always run background checks on people." 

You handed the paper back to him, clicking your red pen. Connie just placed it on the floor looking at you. "C'mon, I've done it. The amount of pay is insane, and you get to hang out with rich people." 

"What if I don't wanna’ do what they tell me?" 

Connie looked back at you, grabbing his phone. "You set up a contract, with rules and guidelines, with all your clients. Just remember," He pulled up something on his phone, handing it to you- then pointing to something. "Once your client reads your contract, and agrees with it. Everything that that client does adds to the total pay. With of course, some things being completely off the table." 

You cringed reading a certain part out loud. "Sex is an additional one thousand?" 

Connie laughed, nodding his head. "And, if they want to do it raw, I charge them six." 

You shuddered, handing back his phone. “Isn’t that- a lot?” 

Connie shrugged, pushing his hair out of his face. “Naw, they still pay it. Well— my clients still pay it.” He tapped his fingers on the table, “And, if they don’t, I have Levi talk to them for me.”

“Levi?” There was more people involved in this? You cringed. "I don't know Connie, I don't think this is for me..." 

Connie laughed, sliding his phone back into his pocket. "I didn't think it was for me either, but here I am. Living in a big house, with luxury items and one of my clients is planning on paying off my college tuition." 

You snapped your head to him. "You're—what?!" 

He laughed. "Don't worry, even if they do stop paying for it. If I just go on a few dates, then I can pay off a yearly fee." 

Your mouth was dangling open. Shocked about what was coming out of this man's mouth. Right now, you were extremely tight on money. So, this sounded like a really good idea— No, it isn’t. 

These are real people, who have lives, and thoughts. How could you do something so… vile? It could damage the person you’re with, or worse… you could get hurt. Which should be your biggest concern, because that was more than likely in this profession. 

A light laugh emerged from your throat, while Connie just observed. Taking in your figure, and waiting for you to finish. "I don't have to have sex with them, right?.."

Connie had a small laugh of his own before answering. "Not if you want to make double what I do." 

That was the beginning of senior year, you were not a junior in college. You started this life young, you didn’t mind. It was just something you didn’t tell anyone. It was your personal, and, most importantly, secret life. 

Nobody had to know about that shit. 

You parked a car, opening your glove compartment. Grabbing the wad of money and putting it in your bag along with the other sums of money. Glancing at the time you sighed, ‘1:30’ am. You walked out of the car slamming it behind you. 

Looking back into your bag making sure you had your dress, along with your shoes and white fluff. Or— whatever those things were called. 

Then, walking into your dorm, trying to be as quiet as possible. Opening the door you noticed the sound of music was turned down, but unfortunately was still loud enough to where you could make a noise complaint.

You walked into your room, unlocking the door seeing Hitch still asleep. You glanced at Floch’s room, noticing it was open. He was awkwardly laying in his bed, curled up in a ball. You sighed and walked over, turning off his light, and lowering his music. Grabbing the blanket that was tossed to the floor, and placing it over Floch’s body.

“Thanks.” Floch mumbled, readjusting his pillow. “Can you grab me a tylenol, and some water.” 

“Fuck off.” You glared at him, before turning your back to him. Muttering a soft, “Goodnight, Floch.”

Floch smiled into his pillow, his eyes still shut. “Goodnight, Y/n.” You closed the door. 

You hated him.

But, he loved you. Pathetically. 

You walked back into your room, checking your school document. Seeing it was now filled with a full typed out essay. “Thank god for Furlan.” You shut your laptop, leaning back in your chair. Glancing at your bed. “I’ll sleep on the couch today.” 

  ‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿

Your alarm went off, causing you to groggily wake up. Shaking the blanket off your shoulder. Glancing at the time. Five am. A sharp sigh left you. A brief glance at your outfit made you go into your closet, and pick out something more suitable for school. Was it designer? Yes. 

You went to the restroom grabbing a towel along with a pair of underwear. You turned on the shower, letting the room fog up, then dipping in. Once done you did a quick face wash along with a makeup look. Shoving a few things into your backpack, then grabbing an apple for you to eat. After that, you walked out of your room.

‘5:27 am.’

It took ten minutes to get to your first class, and you still had to print your essay. You quickly started to run, opening the door to the library. A quick connection to your computer, and then you printed out your essay. Another glance at the time and you were already stressing.

Honestly could this thing go any slower?! An unpleasant groan came from you, as your eyes watched the paper inch outside the machine. Were they always this slow?!

It felt like years before they were done, and when they were, you were sprinting out the building. You glanced at the time again, and almost sighed in relief. Looks like you're not going to be late after all, and incidents ike tardiness were never accepted. Even though you’re the one paying to attend. 

Your college was prodigious, it had top ranking students that wanted to have somewhat of an impact. Whether that be teaching, law, or— whatever else the school provided. An education major that rivaled your own, creating tension between the students.

But, law— law was something-fucking-else.

You jumped when someone ran into you, spilling all your papers to the ground. You could feel your eyebrows furrow, turning over your shoulder, glancing at who bumped into you. “Fucking excuse you.” You seethed. Their outfit only further fueled your anger. Scrubs. 

Of course, the person who bumped into was in said rivaling education. Fuck him, and his two friends laughing in the back. One a girl, and another a guy. He smiled at you, glancing at the heading of your essay. 

“Quarter Overview, Criminal Prosecution/Justices.”

He smiled cockily, his long brown hair tied behind his head. “Sorry, don’t sue me, or anything.” He stepped on one of your papers, “Unless, how much money for my bail?” 

You were going to take him to a secluded place, kill the shit out of him, hide the body, and get away with it. You narrowed your eyes at him, “I don’t associate money with justice. I just want to protect people.” 

“Are you sure about that?” His eyes skimmed over your designer clothing, almost scowling. “Don’t fucking lie about that shit, we can see you’re a money-hungry bitch who dosen’t give a fuck about people. You’d protect anyone if they paid you enough.” 

You went silent, eyes flickering to the side. Technically, that’s what paying for a lawyer was. So, you wouldn't necessarily disagree with his statement. This is why you hated his major, because in a twisted way, your major was the complete opposite of his.

The savior of lives from horrible people. 

The one who defends those horrible people from consequence. 

“Get over it, you're paying people four hundred dollars for dollar-tree tylenol. You’re just as bad as me.” That was a lie, no matter what this guy did, he would never be as bad as you. “So, shut the fuck up, and go cry over a life you couldn’t save.” 

“Fucking bitch.” His foot twisted over your paper, leaving a shoe mark into the white sheet. 

You scowled at him, “Dick.” You pulled your paper from underneath his foot, “Go save a bitch who can’t pay for it, and send me the video of her sobbing from the crippling debt.” 

But, the man already had his back to you. 

Then, there was the medical-course. 

And, because of them, you were going to be late, and your essay was now trampled and ruined. 

One of the best schools for law, was shared with medical training. People in the medical course were too full of themselves. It was hard to get into this school, but getting into the medical course was a different story. 

From what you've heard at least. 

Supposedly, the school only takes a third of applicants. And, without a recommendation from a well-known doctor, people really had no chance of getting accepted. Additionally, there were still more rules among what doctors you could get recommendations from.

In your perspective, asking a random doctor to give you a recommendation had a better chance, than getting accepted into this school. For medical students, of course.

And, from what you’ve experienced, you're not very fond of medical course students, as anyone can see. 

You sighed, collecting the last of your papers. A quick adjustment of your mask, then you started to jog again. Swinging quickly around the corner and into your classroom, a small habit you've picked up. 

The moment you walked in the people gave you a quick glance, before continuing their notes. You quickly placed your essay in the basket then walked to your seat. Receiving a few quick glances from your peers. 

You took a seat next to your friend Historia, widening your eyes in exaggeration. You pulled out your computer, placing it on your desk. “So, why are you late?” She innocently asked.

You continued writing and gave your answer as you did so. “I printed my essay.” 

Historia nodded her head, giggling quietly. “Did you use the main campus library, or the one near the south building?” 

“Main.” 

Historia hummed, tapping her fingers against the desk. “That printer sucks, you need to use the other one.” 

You rolled your eyes, quickly catching up on notes. Your fingers flying over your computer with inhuman speed. Historia watching in awe. “I always wondered how you typed so fast.” 

You shrugged, “Practice.” You wrote the final things down, then added a sticky note in your textbook to come back to it. 

Historia smiled and offered the beginning of the presentation notes. You took a quick picture and thanked her, taking off to finally get breakfast. What a way to start off the day. Thank god this class was only once a week. 

You gripped the edge of your desk, head pressed about the cool surface. “I sometimes hate this school.” 

“What happened?” Historia tilted her head, her cheek pressed against the desk. Trying to peer at your face, only to see your hair covering it. 

“Unfortunately, I ran into a gunner.” You mumbled, practically breaking the desk underneath your grip. That’s how pissed off you were.

Historia hummed with acknowledgment, nodded her head, giggling quietly. The students in the medial-course were addressed by a different name from those who weren’t, ‘Gunners.’ 

They were what held up the school’s reputation, and took all the glory and fame. There was no recognition if you weren’t in the medical course, it was an easy way to become a doctor or nurse. As long as you just got into the course. 

Of course, that was more than a difficult task. 

Which means, you had to work above and beyond for even a small amount of acknowledgement. You weren't the special ones, you were the supporters and couldn’t do anything about it. 

Again, you had a ‘small’ distaste for them. You didn’t want to kill then or anything, okay… yes, you did. But, you would never actually do it. Unless, they really crossed you.

“I’m going to kill them.” 

“Don’t joke about that.”

“Who said I was joking?” 

  ‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿

You sat next to Connie, texting one of your clients. Well, the one from yesterday or—today, he found a house for you to move into. Porco hated when you spoke about your horrible roommates. So, as his gift, he found you a house. It was something you two have discussed, so it wasn’t completely out of nowhere.

Porco also agreed to pay for the first monthly fee. Sending you pictures and videos, to which you showed to your best friend. 

“Damn, it’s huge.” Connie swirled his fry in his ranch, taking a bite. 

You scoffed, adding to his statement. “That's what I thought.” You bit your lip. “You think he— wired it?...” 

Connie shrugged, looking at the pictures. “Just invite me over when you move in, I have a kit for that.” 

You blinked, “A what?” 

Connie stared blankly back at you. “A kit. Don’t you have one?” 

You let out a confused breath. “I’m supposed to have one?!” 

“Yes! You need to make sure a client isn’t recording you!” Connie exasperated. 

You pulled your phone back, a small laugh erupted from you. “Yeah, Uhm. Get me some of those. Please.” 

Connie placed a hand to his face, groaning. “God I’m surprised I haven’t seen you on the hub yet. Or, even on the black market for sale.” 

Your face dropped. “You think so?!” You whispered. Connie scoffed, laughing into his palm. 

  ‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿

During your packing, your roommates would constantly come into your room, Hitch helping you pack, and Floch— Floch was just here to scold you. Saying something along the lines of, “You’re going to regret this.” Or, “I’m going to be so bored without you to bother.”’ 

You gave a good-bye to Hitch wishing her to be safe, and try to focus on school. She scoffed, “Whatever. I’ll do my best, or something.” 

You nodded, taking her into a hug. “Don’t take shit from Floch either. Lay off the parties too.” You softly scolded. 

Hitch scoffed, pushing you off her. “That's something I will not promise you.” 

Your eyes softened for a second, pressing a stuffed animal into her arms. “So you’re saying, you promise to do your best?” 

Hitch scoffed, turning to walk into her room. You grabbed the few things in your room and started to walk to the door. When something gently tugged you back. “What's up? Missing me already.” 

Hitch rolled her eyes, pressing the wrapped shoe box into your hands. “I actually spent money on this, including the wrapper. I have a pair of my own, and thought it would be cool if you had one too. I thought they were cute.” 

You nodded, placing it under your arm. “Thank you, this really means a lot.” 

Hitch smiled, and turned away. “It's the least I can do since you baby me so much.” 

You laughed, flicking the back of her head. “Remember to lock your door, Floch’s a huge dick.“ You whispered that last part. “You already know.” 

Hitch nodded her head, playing with her sleeve. “Just— Just tell Fluff I said, bye.” 

You nodded your head and said goodbye, walking out the door, and closing it behind you. Quickly walking to the moving van you placed all the things near it, watching all the men place all your stuff inside. You got in your car, phoning Connie for a second then connecting it to bluetooth. 

Connie picked up, “Hey princess, today the day?” 

You lightly nodded your head, turning on your engine. “Yeah, come check my house. Alright.” 

You heard a scoff as you pulled out of your parking spot. “Alright, you could’ve at least said please.” You hung up the phone. 

“Siri, text Connie, house location.” It took her a few seconds but she replied with. 

‘Sending location.’ You waited a few more seconds before she finally said, ‘Location sent.’ 

“Okay, I’ll see you inna’ bit.” You ran your hand the wheel, pulling into a Mcdonalds. You were craving fries.

“You want me to pick some food up? Or, are you gonna’ get something to eat?” Connie asked. 

“No, I’m not getting anything. Pick up some food.” You ended the call.

Once you arrived at your house you noticed the moving van was already there, carrying your things inside. You had given them the key, so they weren’t breaking in. Wait, did you give them a key?

You walked in, continuing to munch on your fries as you lighty started to take in the interior design that was already present before you arrived. ‘Client 4’ did state he bought some things for you, considering you were his favorite. 

You promptly tipped the men bringing your stuff in, retrieving your key from them as they left. As you unpacked, you finally took the time to really take a look at your new place. More specifically the rooms. It had two bedrooms, a living room, a kitchen, a single restroom, and the bedrooms were quite— large. 

The kitchen was to die for, it had a huge fridge in the center and a stove with a wood burn oven in the back. The living room was— insane in your opinion. You had a nice view of the city, which was even better in the dark. The restroom had a freaking jacuzzi, along with a standing shower. Additionally each room was perfect, well your room was perfect.

They each had a desk, with windows to the city below them. In your room you had a hanging light that was quite beautiful, along with a massive bed in the center. With a walk in-closet. 

A knock interrupted your thoughts, while you looked into the peephole noticing it was Connie. You unlocked it, and took Fluff into your arms. Cooing at the animal, getting a dirty look from Connie. He closed the door, mumbling curses under his breath as he went into the room. Pulling out a bag from his backpack. 

You sat on the couch, playing with your dog as she licked your nose. She was actually something your clients had bought you. She honestly came to you as a surprise, at first the small dog was merely just a prop for you to hold. Then your client just insisted that you'd kept it, saying something along the lines of 'I have far too many at home.' So, that's how you came about her. 

Connie walked back into the room. Flopping on the couch next to you. “Your rooms are good. I can do a quick check in here. If you would like.” You nodded your head, toying with Fluff’s paws. He groaned, and checked both rooms. “Alright, everythings is in the clear. I checked everything, and here.” He tossed you a bag, you swiftly caught it with one hand. Connie gave you a surprised look, while you finally took your eyes off Fluff.

“Don’t do that again.” 

Connie laughed taking a seat next to you, making you slightly jump in your seat. “So, you know, how like— having two rooms, and stuff?..” 

You nodded your head, and glared at Connie. “You’re not going to live with me, if that's what you're proposing.” 

Connie slapped your thigh gently. “Thanks, after all I’ve done for you. But no, that's not what I mean.” You snickered, while he continued. “You see, you can charge people to live with you. And, the fact that you live around ten minutes away from your school is another huge factor. A lot of people would pay alot for a place like this.” 

“A lot of people like us, would pay for a place like this. But, people don’t get a paycheck like us. And remember, people our age are dying in debt. If I do end up setting up a roommate system, I’d try to make it cheap. You know, maybe lay off a student on college debt for a moment” Connie gave you a shocked look. Your eyebrows furrowed at his expression, “What?”

“Wow, that’s the first time in a while you ever had compassion for another human being that wasn’t fake.” 

You scoffed, jumping off the couch. “Whatever. Just help me unpack.” 

Connie shrugged his shoulders, getting off the couch. “Back to what I was saying.” He grimaced once you finally looked at him, “I kinda told everyone you needed a roommate.” 

You scoffed. “You’re helping me set up flyers then.” 

“Really!” 

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “Just— Just give me a week to finally have some time for myself.” Connie nodded, grabbing a few of your boxes. 

  ‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿

The next day at school was a hassle, suddenly everyone needed a new place to live. They were suggesting you would let them live with you. Which wouldn't be a problem, but when you brought up the idea of a monthly fee they would insist— you let them live with you for free. Honestly, how self-delusional do you have to be?

A quiet sigh came from you as Connie jogged up to your position. “I created some flyers— wait, woah. What’s up with you, you look like shit.” 

You snapped your head to him. “Yeah, I wonder why. Everyone’s been talking to me about my new house.” 

Connie slapped your back, handing you a flier. You crumpled it up, and threw it behind you. “Connie, I honestly don’t want a roommate right now.” 

Connie held a paper in front of you leading you out of the main courtyard. “C'mon. Just post on the school board announcements, I doubt anyone would contact you anytime soon. I say you have a week.” Connie placed a flier on the board, shoving the rest in his bag. “And, you don't have to reply immediately to the person. Just try to get to them in a timely fashion.” 

You looked at the paper taking in the information, there was nothing that revealed too much about the location. It had an email to where the person could contact you, and it did say pets allowed. 

You shrugged your shoulders, there was nothing that you disagreed with. So, you stuck to Connie’s word. You gave it a week, no one had contacted you yet. You honestly really liked it.

Every day you would blast music, doing a live performance as you cooked or cleaned. Then you would take long baths, while doing your homework in peace.

Additionally, a useful thing you found out was, the place was not soundproof. Which wasn’t ideal for your line of work. If you were to get a roommate, they would be able to hear your private late night calls. You found out when you were blasting music, and quickly closed the door, trying to clean behind it— when the music echoed through your room. The only place being somewhat sound proof being the restroom. Of all places. 

Still, the time was more than enjoyable. Living alone was a dream.

Until now, you silently were dreading it. You knew it was going to happen eventually, but— you didn’t want your fun to be over. 

The flier was gone. 

Immediately you thought of the student board. They could’ve just taken it down. 

A quick glance at the, ‘Happy new year!’ back from twenty-thirteen changed your mind. Someone took it, maybe they just did it cause it was bothering them? Maybe, no one was going to contact you. 

You typed away, trying to collect all the information from your professor. Historia seemed to be doing the same, with the two of you engaging in small conversation every now and then. 

She seemed to find your situation humorous. 

“Historia, this isn’t funny. I just don’t want this independent time to be over yet.” You sounded as straightforward as ever, but in your mind, you sounded so whiny. You clicked away, trying to copy a certain graph that was on the professor’s presentation. 

“Well, if you want to be by yourself. Why didn’t you take down the poster?” You pondered for a second, thinking back to your times when you did have roommates. You honestly missed Hitch, you missed the company she brought you. 

Again, she did get on your nerves, but you didn’t dislike the girl.

Historia cut off your thinking, “Which means, deep down, you secretly wanted a roommate. Lemmie guess, you're starting to get loney?” 

You rolled your eyes, toying with the keys on your computer. Refusing to talk for some time as you copied the presentation. A small, “Maybe, but I doubt it.” Escaping your throat. She giggled, and wrote down a few things. 

“But, you make it sound sad, I just want someone to help with money.” Even though money wasn’t at all a concern for you. “That's all.” 

Historia laughed a bit louder than she intended to. Catching some glances from your classmates as she spoke. “Girl, you make it sound like your new roommate is going to be a pet. You need to think about—“ Both of you glanced at your phone, you just got a notification. 

Maybe, it was just a random marketer that contacted you. Unlocking your phone you thought to yourself. That random marketer just wanted to know if the extra room was still available. 

You turned off your phone, flipping it over. Historia gave you a quick look, not bothering to press on in the moment, and continued to write. 

You didn’t open it for a day. 

Your next class, you arrived a bit early, trying to finish an assignment due that day. Historia walked in and took a spot next to you, she took your phone and asked for the code. You snatched your phone back. “And, why do you need my phone?” 

Historia snickered and gently took it back. “To see if you opened the email, silly!” 

You thought about it, then sighed. “It’s my birthday.” You hit submit, and turned back to the girl, she just showed you the screen. You had indeed not opened it. You honestly didn’t want to.

“You know, you can say no. The person’s just asking, because the place is cheap and they’re probably struggling with money.” 

A light frown graced your face as you took the phone back. “Fine, I’ll just check the email.” Historia smiled, clicking on the notification. Gracely opening it for you. 

‘Arlert Armin

To: Y/n L/n

Subject: Roommates?

Hello,

I wish to live with you.’

“Huh.”

A small laugh escaped Historia’s lips. She clicked on the reply. “Not what I was expecting, I—I mean. At least they’re straight forward.” 

You slowly nodded your head, composing a similar email. “Should I just get to the point?” 

Historia shrugged, looking at the email. “I mean didn’t you say, ‘I don’t want a roomie.’” She raised the pitch of her voice, trying to mimic you. 

You sarcastically laughed, giving her a dirty look. “Fair point.” You sighed, leaning back in your chair. “I don’t think I’m going to give it to him, what if he’s a serial killer, or something?” You’d be able to deal with a serial killer, but still, it’d be too much of a hassle to live with. 

Historia leaned back in her chair, shrugging her shoulders. “Just let them down easy, say unfortunately it's not available. There, problem’s solved.” She smirked, looking at the email you’re composing. “Unless, you want a roommate.” 

A bitter laugh left you as you looked at your reply. “No, I’m good. I like living alone.” You finished the email, and saved it into your drafts, turning off your phone and placing it screen down on the desk. 

Historia laughed, “Sure.” Her amusement came to a halt when she got a text from her friend, she replied while replaying another concern. “By the way, what if they’re in the medical course?” 

You paused, what if they’re in the medical course.  

You and Connie were watching a movie, while you updated him on the situation. He was playing with fluff’s paws as he listened. He huffed, getting annoyed with your bickering. “Maybe, they just give up, and forget about it.” 

Like if that person heard, a notification lit up your phone. You glanced at it seeing it was an email. Connie took it into his hand and unlocked it, opening the email and skimming over it for you. He laughed while replying to the email. “Don’t worry. I got this, you obviously don’t wanna go through with this.” 

You huffed taking your phone back. “How would you know that?” 

Connie scoffed, “You’ve been bitching about this since the moment I walked in the door.” You became silent, silently admitting he was right. Connie took your phone, mumbling about how, ‘I’m always right.’ 

“Connie…“ You sighed, trying to talk again. “Just.. I don’t know, forget about it.” 

Connie laughed, ruffling your hair. He knew you too well. “I know, don’t worry.” 

You lightly scoffed, shoving his hand off, and grumbling something under your breath. Connie laughed, sending an email to the random person. “Okay, they’re going to come next week with all their stuff around six.” Connie glanced at the phone and placed it down. 

“On Tuesday?” Your eyes widened slightly. “Really? Isn’t that too soon?” You made a face. “And, late?” 

Connie shrugged, sitting down next to you. A small scoff escaped your lips, catching Connie’s attention. “I just really hope they’re not as bad as my old roommates.” Connie adjusted his position, taking Fluff into his arms. 

Your next statement made him freeze. 

“And, I really hope they’re not in the medical course.” 

Connie fucked up.

And, you suddenly had a roommate.

Next Chapter (2): My Bitchy Attitude, And Your Calm Understanding One.

#writers on tumblr #anime #fiction #writing #aot fanfiction #aot x y/n #rating: mature #attack on titan fanfiction #attack on titan #armin x you #armin aot #armin attack on titan #armin x reader #armin arlert #attack on Titan armin #violence

[set-wingedwarrior]

I hate how lots of subjects and exam that are actually important, and potentially very interesting, are taught in a useless and boring way, using badly written textbooks and professors who only info dump you instead of actually teaching and explaining.

It's not a coincidence that all my favorite exams were taught by passionate teachers and/or used a well written textbook that showed passion and the importance of the subject.

The absence of these elements makes lots of things basically useless, even when they're not supposed to be!

My current exam that I've been complain a lot, Psychology of the Job, is just a mess of lists of categories about workers and organizations and how to spot good workers and how/why they're motivated to work. And it's so boring and virtually useless because, again, I'm here trying to just memorize a way too long list of theories and useless terminologies.

But it's a field that actually, especially now in this hellish capitalistic landscape, could be so useful???? And cool??? And sometimes there are little glimpse and implications of something interesting and important in my textbook, but they're sadly nothing more than that. (also author triggered me in the paragraph about women in workplace because dammit if it's clear that's a male because of how wrong it was)

It's just so sad how because of reasons we're stopped from actually learning something, making it all a useless memory game to get a grade and then forget everything, since they didn't give us anything to begin with.

I always loved learning but hated studying, and I think there's a reason why.

#elo stuff #uni stuff #university #Studying #Rant #Kind of #Education is so important yet so badly organized #It's so sad

[bridgertonbabe]

stuck on parents takemyhand!benophie and thought about that one scene in grey's where mark was first watching over baby sofia alone for the first time and he accidentally dropped her from baby carrier on his chest. totally see that happening with dad!ben getting sophie to finally have one relaxing day off with the ladies since giving birth to charlie and that happens so he rushes over to simon's office in a panic lmao

Oh that totally tracks (and I just rewatched some clips of that to remind me and god dammit I miss Mark Sloan 😔).

Benedict had waved Sophie off (as well as waving Charlie's little hand for him) as she left to go for a spa weekend with the other Bridgerton ladies, the first time she had been away since Charlie had been born and the first time she was going to be apart from him. As apprehensive as she was at being separated from her baby, Benedict assured her he was more than capable of seeing after their infant son, and assuaged her anxieties by sending her hourly selfies of him and Charlie during her time away.

Everything had been plain sailing until Benedict had been getting Charlie changed on the sofa. He had turned his back for all of a few seconds to grab his phone to take another picture for Sophie but when he looked back Charlie was no longer on the sofa. He startled and looked to the floor where Charlie was now lying on the sheepskin rug, utterly unperturbed as he gurgled at his father.

Look at me dad! I rolled over for the first time!

Of course Benedict barely registered his son's first display of mobility as he fell into a full-blown panic, scooping his son off of the floor and rushing him to Simon's office.

"He didn't even cry, Simon! I think I broke him! Oh god, I've broken my baby!" Benedict fretted as his brother-in-law examined the four month old, borderline hysterical at what Sophie would think when she came home and learnt their son had been hurt under his father's care.

"You haven't broken him, Ben. In fact there's not a scratch on him." Simon told him.

"But what if he's suffered some sort of head trauma? There might be something neurologically wrong with him! What if he goes on to have trouble learning things? What if he never talks? Or what if he does talk but he speaks in a Canadian accent? Sophie's going to know I messed him up when his first word is aboot, Simon!"

Simon stared at his brother-in-law incredulously, wondering if he should go to the psychology department and recommend they study his wife's family in order to figure out just how exactly their minds worked. He thought he had endured the absolute pinnacle of a worried father when he had to assure Anthony that just because Edmund had grazed his knee, didn't mean he would then have to have it amputated. Benedict was certainly giving his older brother a run for his money (and Simon dreaded to think just how much worse Colin and Gregory would be when they reached fatherhood).

"Ben." Simon clutched Benedict by the shoulder and looked him dead in the eye. "There is nothing wrong with Charlie. He's a perfectly healthy baby and one small drop from the sofa onto a fluffy rug hasn't damaged him at all. Babies can be fairly indestructible; you have nothing to worry about."

Benedict seemed to accept the medical professional's diagnosis but his slight relief was disturbed by his phone buzzing.

"Oh god! It's Soph! She's asking why I haven't sent her a photo in nearly two hours! Oh god, oh god, oh god!" Benedict fretted, raking a hand through his hair as he stared at his phone screen with absolute terror in his eyes. "She knows! She just knows I've been a terrible father and she's probably getting Kate to draw up custody papers so I never get to see him again and endanger him-"

"Oh for god's sake!" Simon barked and snatched the phone from Benedict, snapping a cute close-up of Charlie who beamed for the camera. "Sorry for the delay. Just woke up from our nap." Simon recited as he typed a message out and hit send. He went to shove the phone back in Benedict's hand when it buzzed and Simon glanced down at Sophie's message. "And she's replied with a bunch of blue love hearts." he informed Benedict. "See; you're all fine. Now go home and chill out."

Simon had thought that would be the last he would see of his brother-in-law that weekend but early the next morning there was a knock at his front door as he was serving his kids breakfast. He now had a sixth sense for Bridgertons and knew exactly who he'd see on his doorstep.

"He hasn't cried!" Benedict fretted, cradling a contented little Charlie in his arms as he walked right through into Simon's house. "He hasn't cried once since his fall, Simon. There's something wrong with him! Why hasn't he cried?!"

"Ben." Simon heaved wearily. "Have you been up all night with him?"

"Of course! I haven't slept!"

"And you've tended to his every need?"

"Well obviously!"

Simon sighed and clapped Benedict on the back. "Ben, do you want to know the reason Charlie hasn't cried? It's because you're a great father. Because you were so worried about him you pre-empted any reason he should have to cry. Plus, he loves you. Look how happy he is."

Benedict peered down to see Charlie's bright big eyes already gazing up at him adoringly and he gave a joyful little squeak in greeting.

"There's nothing wrong with him, Ben, so please stop doubting your ability to be a good father. You're already the best dad Charlie could ask for."

Benedict swallowed and nodded in grateful acknowledgement for his brother-in-law's affirmation, a soft smile gracing his lips as he gazed lovingly back at his adorable son.

#asks #take my hand now and forever #benedict bridgerton #charles bridgerton #simon basset

[raxistaicho]

Are we not Engaged? Part 12.

Celica paralogue first!

Spoilers under the cut.

Where’s all the enemies, lol. Oh there they are. I’ll do this one later :’)

On to Sigurd’s instead!

Sigurd spawned a bunch of soldiers and then he proceeded to run out ahead of them so I just bopped him. Lore accurate to FE4, but it sure made the map easier :p

Seems Yunaka is so accustomed to lying that she does it when not necessary T_T

Hortensia Alcryst C: Alcryst asks Hortensia to teach him how to be more confident, but he refuses, which surprises her. She was trying reverse psychology, but uhh... Alcryst.

Alcyrst Saphir B: Alcryst fished quite well, probably because of his quiet nature. It seems he’s so interested to learn how to fish because he wants to cook something special for his mother, as fish is her favorite food. Alcryst is a good boi.

Lief paralogue time!

Aaaaaand it’s based on the infamous Thracia bridge chapter, of course :’)

Oh christ it even has all the status staves.

Wow those status staves and ballistae were pretty lethal lol. I had to seriously abuse Sigurd, Celica, and Lyn here.

Chloe Hortensia B: Mostly just them being cute together, heh. Hortensia’s trying to studying Chloe’s maternal-ness, and Chloe keeps doting on her.

Yunaka Zelkov B: Mostly just Yunaka helping Zelkov to understand how obvious he is about being a killer. There’s an interesting part where she says he’s obviously positioning himself to counter a knife thrust from her dominant hand. I really like how casually she can reference her old life in discussion.

Back to the plot!

Another consecutive map. I better not lose all my Emblems again after this >:(

Seems like Mauvier and Marni are set to change sides. Marni’s not happy tho.

Sombron’s trying to restore his lost land from under the sea. Lumera mentioned it at the start of the game. Sounds like Gradlon is pretty bad. Sombron apparently has to destroy a Divine Dragon shard in Lythos. Oh he plans to invade other worlds somehow. Eesh. Guess that might explain how nobody knows where he came from.

So the reason Zephia kept calling Veyle a “defect” is because she can’t summon Emblems. Veyle’s lived in hiding ever since Sombron fell, all alone for fear of her life.

Marni’s upset about how terrible Veyle’s life has been. So Mauvier’s fully aware of how miserable Veyle’s life has been since Sombron returned but he didn’t bother actually acting on any of it. She asked him to be her knight but he watched and did nothing as Zephia twisted Veyle’s mind and turned her into something she’d never want to be. Fucking useless.

Marni was abandoned by her mother because she had a lot of siblings, so that’s why she has such an issue about wanting acceptance. I don’t care, this came way too late after her acting horrible for the entire game.

These two both suck. All the Four Hounds suck.

Eww, Lythos’s gotten all rotten. Pretty sad.

“Self-serving???” Shut the fuck up Zephia you bitch.

Oh no Veyle’s dressed up like a... fucking bat or something XD

The stupid helmet is clipping through Veyle’s headpiece.

Marni: This is what you’ve been trying to do to her? Can the other Lady Veyle return?

YOU CALLED GOOD!VEYLE, “THE BORING ONE,” YOU USELESS IDIOT.

Did the writers fucking write Marni’s scenes out of order?

Holy shit Zephia mentions that Evil!Veyle is only permanent while the helmet is attached, christ what a stupid bitch XD

“This has gone too far,”

Ah yes, slaughtering a whole town is one thing, but being cruel to just Veyle? YOU’VE GONE TOO FAR, ZEPHIA!

The protagonist-centered morality is real, guys.

Marni’s gonna try to smash the helmet. But because she announced her intention Veyle just blocked it lol. Oh shit, Zephia just shanked Marni. Killing a child like that is pretty brutal. Mauvier looks less upset and more like he’s trying to go super saiyan.

God dammit, Veyle, stop flashing Marth like I care about him, lol. Alear, keep a close eye on your pockets this time! Oh, holy shit Mauvier’s QUITE strong.

This map was kinda boring, it was just managing enemies coming from all sides.

Good Veyle’s back!

“This can’t be possible!” This is like the 2nd time you were sure Good!Veyle was gone for good...

Eeeyyy Veyle’s giving us Marth back :3

Sombron big mad. Where the hell were you all this time, idiot lol. Alear got blasted because she decided to facetank the attack lol.

Evidently this is the second time Sombron killed Alear.

Oh shoot, we lost :( Wasn’t expecting a bad ending lol.

Oh wow Alear’s fuckin’ ded :U

Dragon Sombron is less impressive outside pre-render.

Ey, Alear’s dragonstone - oh it broke. Oh yeah she’s totally fucking dead lol. So what BS is gonna bring her back, is it miracle time?

Oh apparently Sombron nabbed the Emblem rings off-screen. Sombron getting infinite power apparently means getting fuckin’ huge lol. Oh Evil!Veyle’s back lol. Guess it’s time for Veyll to do something impressive? Oh nvm, Evil!Veyle’s back. Joy.

Is it time for another escape map? :p

Oh flashback to Red!Alear. Holy shit lol, Sombron blasted the shit out of Red!Alear. Oh yeah callback to the “birthday gift”

Pretty field of flowers :3

Alear’s in the afterlife. Veyle’s there too, what? A personality dying sends it to the afterlife?

Veyle’s wanted Sombron’s acceptance for years but he never gave it. And now she just wants to give up and pass on with Alear. T_T

Alear has the brilliant plan of Veyle going back and then reviving Alear as a corrupted since she seems to make perfect ones. This scenario is bizarre lol.

Alear and Veyle together are pretty cute. Alear’s voice actress remains good.

Of course when we go back to Evil!Veyle she’s laughing maniacally, lol.

Believe in the Alear who believes in you, Veyle!

Breaking the helmet returned Veyle’s wardrobe to normal lol. Anyways, bye Evil!Veyle, don’t let the door hit you on the ass.

Mauvier’s realized he’s useless lol.

And then Alear was a zombie!

“Ask me a question only the real Alear would know the answer to!”

Alear summons Marth, but he’s red, like a Dark Emblem. Looks like we’re doing a defense map? Oh no I have to find the Emblem Rings scattered across the battlefield and bring Alear to them.

Alear being a corrupted doesn’t really change anything about her gameplay wise, so that’s kinda lame.

I got Veyle so I just put Byleth on her. Dragon tag is good.

Chapter 22 and 21 drag, too many reinforcements from the sides of the screen.

Alear’s dying again, roflmao.

Veyle main character rise up!

Don’t go into the light, Alear!

Miracle time!

And then Alear was a Divine Dragon!

No wait, and then Alear was an Emblem!

Alear’s blue

Da ba dee da ba di Da ba dee da ba di Da ba dee da ba di Da ba dee da ba di Da ba dee da ba di Da ba dee da ba di Da ba dee da ba di

Oh Alear actually looks much plainer without the red in her hair. Weird that I actually got used to her stupid colgate hair.

the “birthday present” ring again, what did Lumera know this would happen? But how would she?

The Emblems all sacrificed themselves after this lol

So Alear fucking died and came back to life twice in two chapters. What even was the point of chapter 22? It’s like they wrote this scene around having big emotional moments rather than doing what made sense.

Shaking!

Big ugly landmass all around Lythos

Veyle Alear C: Veyle’s trying to apologize for her past actions but Alear reassures her it wasn’t her fault. Veyle wants to be stronger.

Alear Seadall B: Seadall’s upset about wanting to eat a really bad for you sounding fried dough meal lol. As usual he’s very disciplined about his craft and takes his duties seriously. Alear feels bad for not being able to reassure him.

Celine Fogado A: They feel a similarity between them due to wanting to support their siblings - by any means necessary. Celine’s the cutest little Hubert there ever was.

Celine Hortensia A: Hortensia gives up the competition and concedes defeat to Celine, but Celine tells Hortensia she finds her plenty cute. T E A.

Celine Jean A: Jean’s struggling over his studies, Celine suggests a tea break as a de-stresser. She admits that tea’s helped her overcome moments where she feels overwhelmed. Jean feels better afterward.

Chloe Seadall A: Seadall’s master died protecting him. He and Chloe dance together.

Ivy Hortensia B: Hortensia’s mother was one of Hyacinth’s concubines. She had a very strong, bright disposition that eventually won over Ivy’s mother, who at first hated her and the other concubines (Ivy’s mother was Hyacinth’s lawful wife). Hortensia’s mother did it for Hortensia - Hortensia thanks Ivy for telling her.

Seadall Alcryst A: Alcryst apologizes for getting Seadall to bring up bad memories from their B support, but Seadall reassures him that though the caravan life had hard times, he doesn’t regret the life he lived. He asks Alcryst to ask him for more stories, and Alcryst emphatically agrees. Really good support chain!

Seadall Veyle C: Seadall’s fortune telling seems out of whack, which is a problem since Veyle has been really tired lately and hoped a fortune might help her overcome it. She pressure Seadall to try anyways, and he says she’ll find fortune if she goes to market and acts like a cat. Wtf, roflmao.

Roy paralogue time!

Oh shit it’s the sealed shrine.

Oh shit all the wyverns are there. They left out the paladins, thankfully.

Roy’s passive that keeps him alive through lethal damage is freaking annoying.

Turns out you can 2-turn Celica’s paralogue lol.

Alear Hortensia B: Hortensia’s still trying to be cute lol. When Alear asks why Hortensia’s so obsessed with being cute, Hortensia says she learned charm had power from seeing how her mother won over the court by weathering abuse with poise and cheer. Alear proposes Hortensia’s mother did it partly so Hortensia could learn how to survive court. It just kinda stops there.

Alear Fogado B: Seems Fogado is a diligent trainer, but he likes maintaining his easy-going reputation, so he can keep others at ease.

Seadall Yunaka A: Yunaka’s getting some last-minute stage fright. Seadall reassures her by quoting lines from their performance (about trust in the face of uncertainty) under a new context. This support line was reeeeaally cute, really enjoyed it :)

Seadall Rosado B: Seadall just follows Rosado around on his morning routine, only to discover Rosado really does have no particular beauty regiment XD

Alcryst Saphir A: The subject turns to fucking Morion, so bleh, support ends on a shitty note.

Alcryst Citrinne A: Alcryst empathizes with Citrinne’s self-worth issue, and he says her strong will to grow stronger inspires him and makes it easy to trust him, and that her volunteering meant a lot to him. Really cute :)

Alcryst Fogado B: Fogado wonders if the differences between them has something to do with their different upbringing. It seems the root of Alcryst’s self-esteem issue is being constantly compared to Diamant all his life.

Clanne Framme A: Clanne’s upset over the whole pamphlet debacle. She reassures him he’s a true Alear fan anyways. I forgot how bad the Lythos-character supports were roflmao.

That’s all for now!

#fire emblem engage #spoilers

[majorbitchwillgraham]

On the other night's episode of "apparently I still get comp het for guys"...

Well, unfortunately it was a huuge comp het case that happened. Hadn't happened in such a long time.. I was kind of drunk and was very close to kissing that dude. I felt like I wanted to initiate it.

I've felt very lonely (and desperate lmao) this month maybe. And this dude seemed to *like me*. And this dude he kneww what he was doing, I think.

We were at a party and only talked a little but he kept looking at me a certain way. I thought he was a cool guy, that's how comp het happens, right? It's annoying. I thought his clothes were really cool and, he said he had wanted to major in philosophy, and asked me things when I said I had studied psychology, etc. As time passed I used my mbti freak powers and I could *smell* ENTP. He laughed very loudly and it was funny. I thought he was adorable.

Did I mention he was also a guitarist?? As someone who loves music so much to have been a guitarist myself, that was bad, really bad for me.

So back to me being desperate lol, I guess I was interested in being his friend but suddenly I felt kind of fascinated by him and how he kept looking at me and at one point the thought came to my mind: "I want to kiss the shit out of that little guy. I don't care if he is 10 years younger than me." He looked older.

I felt that I just wanted to use him for that moment, lmao this is very embarrasing. I thought wth is happening to me, and then remembered "finding guys is easier than finding gay girls AND I'm desperate. And drunk"

At one point they were talking in a group and I passed walking and he literally said he wanted me to hear. So I went there and then he said it: "I want to know what you think about this"

God fucking dammit. Did he know what he was doing? Because that is literally the best thing you can say to me, in the pick up line context or whatever. Now I really felt like kissing him.

I was really trying to be alone with him and initiate it myself, but it couldn't happen. I didn't think about what I would do next. I never thought about having sex, probably for obvious reasons. I just wanted to play the "seduction game" with a cool guy that looked at me like that. It is exciting when I think about it, but the trick with comp het is that it rarely feels good when you do it for real lol.

Then when he was saying good bye to everyone he was saying "nice to meet you" but with me he said "nice to meet you, psychologist" because god damn that is also the best thing you can say to me. Praise my fuckin major/title lmao because yes as an INTP it seems that's what I care about. Dude shut the fuck up...

So maybe he knew what he was doing. It's very funny because it is the direct contrary of what happened when I met my ESTP friend, he "made a joke" and told me "I should have majored in something else" and left me there marvelling at the audacity hahaha and planning how to murder him, and thinking "dude wth that is the worst insult you can say to me" lmao

That's what happened, comp het is annoying. I'm thinking I felt a "friend connection" with him, just as it happened with my 2 ex boyfriends. Why would I be desperate btw? I guess that's what happens when nobody has kissed you in -oh my god - almost 4 years. I remembered when Will kissed Chiyoh and, for the first time ever, I forgive him.

#my post #comp het #strikes again

[moonieshinesims]

Generation One - Chapter Ten

River continues to deal with her emotional trauma, all while preparing for graduation with her friends.

Things would go smoothly for a while, then River would feel the fear crashing down on her again. Sometimes it came on gradually, and could be prepared for, but other times it hit her like a brick wall.

At those times, she had to hide fast, so people wouldn't see her falling apart.

She got caught one day in the bathroom during lunch sobbing, and the school called her family, concerned and confused.

Her mom tried talking to her about her feelings. But River never really wanted to divulge much to her. She knew she cared about her, but Bee was never really there for her emotionally prior to the kidnapping.

It was easier to talk to Elanor about her feelings. Elanor didn't know her really, so it was okay to spill all the weird thoughts and emotions she was having.

It was still wild to her that Rohan had nothing to do with Joe's schemes. As close as the two of them were, she wasn't sure if she believed it. Rohan's family had money though, so he could get away with anything.

She was scared that he, or someone else that worked closely with Joe would come after her again. And of course, he did it to help her, but what if the people Ichiban worked with came to make her pay back the debt of being saved!

She couldn't even mention him. She cared about him a lot and didn't want to drag his name through the mud.

These were things she didn't even want to talk to her friends about, let alone her mom. So it was hard.

River had one last set of exams before she was given the OK to graduate. She studied a lot, and felt rather confident about her results.

After class she went to the convenience store across the road and got a snack.

Once she sat down, her phone rang. It was Havarti.

"Yeah! Cassandra will meet us there too. We have to talk about some things!"

She didn't realize that upon answering her phone, she sat her pizza roll down on the dirty table.

After her snack, she took the bus to the library. Havarti was waiting for her outside.

River hadn't realized it, but Cassandra was apparently just as neurotic about this college thing as Havarti was.

"Housing? Majors? I just know we're going to Foxbury, I don't even know what they offer..."

"How are you going to go there and not know anything about it?" Cassandra frowned.

"I promised Havarti I'd go with her! I didn't care what they taught."

"A true friend indeed." Havarti nodded, "But out of the best choices there's biology, computer science, economics, physics, psychology, and villainy!"

"Villainy?" River's ears perked up.

"Yeah. Villainy."

"Of course I am. Look guys, there's nothing else really important to me in life other than you guys and Ichiban. And I'm already gonna be living with y'all, so how else can I get closer to him? Through crime. Duh."

Havarti and Cassandra exchanged looks.

"Well, at least your dad's not making you go into computer science so you can keep his tech conglomerate alive!"

"I can't believe you're gonna go through with that." Cassandra sighed.

"I don't know, something you actually enjoy?"

"What about you Cassandra?"

She blushed. "I'm thinking physics."

"Oh, so the family tradition of a science career, huh? So much for doing what you actually enjoy."

The three of them sighed.

"Stop being so down. Weren't you stoked about graduation? Are either of you throwing any killer parties?"

Havarti and River slowly turned their heads to Cassandra.

"You do have the biggest house."

"Dammit. Fine! I'll throw a party!"

With that settled, the girls had their plans for college set. Now onto actually applying.

"Wait..." Cassandra called out to the others as they got up from the table, walking away and leaving Cassandra behind.

"We didn't even talk about housing!"

#moonie's legacy challenge #generation one #ts4 challenge #ts4 legacy

[mr-smith-stories]

IQ Test #2: Ritchie Johnson

Ritchie Johnson swaggered through the large building on his college campus and into the library, with two Psychology textbooks in his arms. In the library, students were going about their business. A girl by the name of Samantha was checking out some mystery novels, and Ritchie’s friend Leo had his nose in a very large book. Ritchie knew Leo because they were both gifted students, and were about to graduate university at the end of the semester at sixteen years of age.

Ritchie found the little alcove where he often studied for his psychology classes. He was to take an IQ test today, in order to see just how gifted he really was. Ritchie turned the knob and pushed open the door with his foot, squeezing through the frame. Inside, a thirty- something- year old man sat in a chair at the end of a long wooden table. “Hello,” Ritchie said. “I’m Ritchie. You must be Mr. Smith?”

“I’m surprised you got my name right, you pretentious stuck up jerk.”

Ritchie was taken aback. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me, you stuck up intellectual piece of garbage! I’m just as smart as you are!”

“I didn’t say you were dumb,” Said Ritchie.

“Sit down and let’s get this over with.” Said Mr. Smith.

Ritchie nodded uncomfortably. “Sure. Let’s get started.”

“Question one- what did I have for lunch today?”

“What?” Asked Ritchie. “How am I supposed to know that?”

“If you’re really a genius, you’ll know. Take a guess.”

“Um- a chicken sandwich?” Asked Ritchie.

“What’s a chicken sandwich?” Asked Mr. Smith.

“Do you seriously not know?” Asked Ritchie.

“Don’t condescend to me! I’m just as smart as you! Your IQ may be 170, but mine is 50! I’m only 120 points below you, you stuck up intellectual dweeb!”

“You’re a level 50 IQ and you’re giving me this test? How do you even have this job?” Asked Ritchie.

“My Dad blackmailed the university. The dean was caught on my Dad’s phone video robbing a bank and then taking his mask off after leaving the bank, and my Dad threatened to post it on YouTube if he didn’t give me the job.”

“So you’re not even qualified?” Asked Ritchie.

“I am! I dropped out of middle school, but I received my equivalency degree at the school of the puppy farm my Dad works at. I know a lot about intelligence and how it works.”

“How’s that?” Asked Ritchie.

“It’s determined by my feelings. If I feel I’m intelligent, then I am. Also, emotional intelligence is the only other form of intelligence. I go to group therapy every week so I can pretend to care about people’s feelings and prove my intelligence.”

“Sure,” Said Ritchie. “Can we please get on with the test?”

“Next question- what’s my favorite holiday?”

“Christmas?” Asked Ritchie.

“No!” Mr. Smith yelled. “You got it right! Now I look stupid!” Mr. Smith suddenly jumped up from his chair and ran to the door, but struggled with the knob. “Dammit,” Mr. Smith swore loudly. “I always have trouble with door knobs.”

“Are you ok?” Asked Ritchie. “How did you even get in here if you can’t open doors?”

“I had the Librarian help me. I never remember to push the door open after turning the knob,” Mr. Smith leaned on the door. “There we go. Goodbye now!” Mr. Smith ran out into the lobby where he spotted Leo.

Mr. Smith paused and yelled, “Oh no! What do I do?” Leo had already been retested by someone else and proved to have a 190 level IQ, but Ritchie’s test wasn’t done yet. Not wanting to look stupid in front of someone he hated, Mr. Smith turned and ran back into the alcove.

“Back so soon?” Asked Ritchie.

“Time to finish that IQ test, and prove I’m more smarter than you,” Said Mr. Smith.

“Don’t you just mean, ‘smarter’?” Asked Ritchie.

“Shh!” Yelled Mr. Smith. “Next question- what time did I wake up this morning?”

“6 AM?” Asked Ritchie.

“No!” Yelled Mr. Smith. “Not again! You can’t be smarter than me!” Mr. Smith got up to run away again, but went in the wrong direction accidentally and bumped into the table. He bumped into it again a few more times, unsure of how to escape.

“Do you need some help?” Asked Ritchie.

“No! Don’t patronize me, devil spawn!” Mr. Smith said. He backed up finally and hit his back against the wall, then ran in a zig zag motion for the door as Ritchie finally couldn’t take it anymore and burst out laughing. Mr. Smith tried again to open the door and accidentally kept turning the knob the wrong way, and then finally figured it out and pushed open the door. He ran out into the library.

“Help!” He yelled. “He’s smarter than me! I look so stupid!”

Leo rolled his eyes at the spectacle Mr. Smith was making, so Mr. Smith got angry. “No one is allowed to be smarter than me! No one! I quit! I’m going back to McDonald’s!”

“You need to tell your boss that, not everyone here,” Said Leo.

“I quit again!” Yelled Mr. Smith, and then he ran away and out of the building and went home. Once he got home, he called the dean and quit his job, hoping instead to get his father’s job cleaning up excrement at the puppy farm.

Fin.

***

#mr. smith story #idiot meets a genius #silly story #humour #funny story #parodies #ritchie johnson #leonard philips #mr. smith #two geniuses and a moron #quitting your job because you were outsmarted by a genius in the stupidest way #gotta work at mcdonald’s now because the genius you gave an iq test is smarter than you and you can’t have that #that moment of panic when a genius gets the answer to what your favorite holiday is right… how did he know it would be Christmas?

[salmonsnakerune]

i have three theories about the way asmr works

- it mimics the way a baby would hear the world from inside its mother’s womb. many asmr techniques rely on the use of water or otherwise “muffling” sounds, such as covering the “ears” of the listener with their hands, or pressing something over the mic to have the effect of a blunted hearing ability. though most humans do not remember their time pre-birth, these techniques may bring back some sort of feeling akin to what a baby may feel before its birth.

- it’s simulated physical contact. almost all asmr techniques have the goal of making the listener “feel” the sensation on their ears. this may trigger endorphins in the same way as being groomed - haircuts, hair brushing, skin treatments, etc. humans are fiercely social animals. we fail to thrive without frequent physical contact. as such those who feel asmr more acutely may be lonely, touch-starved, or otherwise have low social fulfilment.

- it brings back positive childhood memories. there’s a whole subsection devoted to simulating childhood, from reading storybooks in hushed tones, to hairbrushing, to softly singing lullabies to the listener, in ways that the listener’s own mother may have done. there are even role-play based videos centering around experiences 90s kids specifically may have had growing up, like plastic inflatable chairs, or hair ties with plastic ‘marbles’ on them. as such those who feel asmr more acutely may have had a happy childhood and then been traumatised or otherwise distressed in their teen and adult years, be it financial distress, relationship breakdown, divorce, abuse, etc. alternately these people may have had no happy childhood at all, and feel asmr so acutely because a part of their brain is trying to achieve a childhood they never got to have.

#space's theories #it's 10pm and i woke up just to write this post #i actually want to do a psychological study for this now? dammit

[inkingtwice]

Apparently it’s my weekend for wordy meta: sorry. 🤷 This is what happens when I take a break from job #2 and rediscover the concept of free time, I guess: I reread craft books and analyze the crap out of my favorite stories. Maybe I should take up knitting?

Anyhoo.

Jeff Gerke proposed something in Plot vs. Character that has stuck with me since I first read it, which is that every protagonist has a primary inner hang-up they’re constantly tripping over on their way to their goals. This doesn’t have to be some earth-shattering thing, as long as it’s significant to the character. They don’t even have to be aware of it. (Often, I think, they’re not: they discover it somewhere between catalyst and climax—usually closer to the latter—after barking up at many perfectly innocent trees on their way to the truth.) Gerke called this the knot, which is a nicely catchy term.

Hardly an original thought, and it applies to a specific approach to story structure, but I think it’s useful not only for writing but for reading/watching fiction.

And yeah, it’s formulaic, as a lot of general writing advice tends to be…but in this case, I find the simplicity appealing. Advice on characterization can get insanely specific, and after incoherent mumble years of studying the art of storytelling in its written and theatrical forms, the firmest conclusion I’ve come to is that I don’t think it really needs to be. Pin the big character stuff down, shove ‘em into a story, and let the plot do the work of revealing the character’s essence: that’s what plots are for. Too much detail in the prep phase can be as limiting as too little.

Which may seem like an odd thing to say coming from a nerd who likes to outline her long-form fiction in Excel and then graph it to the major elements of the Plot Mountain, but, dammit (janet): discovery is as much fun in creation as it is in consumption.

Basically, what this-all speaks to is internal conflict.

Conflict in plot is another thing where there are doorstoppers of advice on the shelves and online, some of it tedious and some of it great, but what it pretty much boils down to is desire + opposition, yes? The external stuff—character vs. character, -vs. society, -vs. nature, etc.—drives action. The internal stuff—character vs. self—drives character development. It's not that simple, of course: they do interact. The action grinds away the outer layers of the character, revealing the essential self and forcing personal change. That change pushes the action forward as the character tries new avenues around/over/through the obstacles between them and their goals.

Conflicting values, blind spots, guilt, shame, shit coping mechanisms, obsessions, fears, heavy secrets…the internal conflict is always psychological, and unless it’s confronted, everything the character does to leap the hurdles of external opposition is likely to fail, or at least to resolve incompletely. They can face down all the dragons they want, but they won’t get out of their own way until they face themselves. This is Gerke’s Knot.

What I love about Hwang Si-mok as a character—okay, yes, one of the things I love—is that Lee Soo-yeon pulled quite the bait-and-switch on the audience with his internal conflict. The side-effects of his brain surgery create major conflict, so significant to character development and action that it justifies a prologue sequence to set it up and various moments of exposition in the first half of the season to establish the details. Look, all of this explanation says: here is his knot, his central conflict, given to you right from the first scene. How will he overcome this?

Except that’s not actually it.

It’s external, despite its physical location within his brain. It was done to him; whether by his choice or not, we don’t know. External forces can cause a knot, but by definition they aren’t internal conflict. This was gloriously clear by the time Si-mok faced his reflection in the interrogation room with Yoon Se-won to reject aloud the idea that his condition and the effects of its treatment made him inherently dangerous, something he’d carried and possibly believed all season, and presumably ever since he was a child. He was judging Yoon Se-won’s choices, yes: but he was also saying We are not the same, you and I. Your choices are not mine. This is not who I am.

This is why I love Lee Soo-yeon's writing. It's so smart.

This is also why I love complex characters so much: so many layers. Si-mok sheds several of his in season one, and each subtraction reveals new facets of his character: to the audience, to the other characters, and to himself. He achieves a more complete understanding of himself and brings that with him into the next season.

Has his true internal conflict been revealed? I don’t think so, which is one reason I am still, in the absence of any news confirming it, confident that a third season was at least planned. There have been some lovely, subtle hints at what that internal conflict is, and god knows my headcanon for it is locked and loaded, but the arc of character growth isn’t yet complete: he still has miles to go.

Fingers crossed we’ll get to learn about it in 2022.

#tvn stranger #tvn secret forest #lee soo yeon #hwang si mok #character arcs #character development #characterization #craft books #writing advice #jeff gerke #internal conflict #external conflict #plot & character #writing #this is how i procrastinate #god help me #storytelling #elements of story #it's possible i need a life? #nah