#God you're such an impressively shitty person.

[scekrex]

Hurt/comfort anyone? 😌

We all know Adam's "big and tough" act, how he gloats before anyone that he's the absolute best since he's the og dick and he's the reason the rest of the mankind was created, but what about Adam just being Adam like anytime else, especially the scene in court and Sera just talking his ear off about him acting irresponsibly and just revealing the exterminations to everyone in the worst way possible, just giving him a good ol' talk, but not in a nice way, nope. She crushes his ego in a way before leaving him alone in the room, saying she has stuff to attend and he's just standing there, all deflated and his mask glitching from how many conflicted feelings fly over his face, he's resignated, he's even sad a bit, but also angry. At Sera, at Heaven, God even, but mostly at himself since he knows he fucked up another thing in his life that he was trusted with.

He goes back home to unsuspecting of anything reader and just passes by him, not saying a word, even tho reader tried to greet him and hug him, but was unable to since Adam just brushed past him quickly. There was a heavy air surrounding reader's husband and he grew concerned, so he went to check up on him, seeing Adam just curled up on the bed, wrapped up in his own wings, shielding himself away from the world, not a sound coming out of him, but reader knew something shitty happened and just gets behind him, hugging him tightly and gently petting his wings, not saying a word to let Adam calm down and speak when he's comfortable enough to do so. Adam just smashing himself into reader and asking quietly if he was actually so bad at everything that he didn't deserve anything good in his life, if that was why everyone he cared about before left him and even now no body cares in the slightest bit about his existence. Basically just Adam having an existential crisis and reader being his anchor, trying to tell and show him how it actually is and not what his mind is telling him.

This sad, wet cat bitch needs validation and love like no one before 😞🤘

Muah ❤️

Adam might be an insecure piece of shit underneath all that narcissistic bullshit act of his but he's my insecure piece of shit and I love him.

If I'm so wonderful then why am I so misunderstood

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language, hurt (with comfort)

note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers

“Adam,” the older seraphim raised her voice against the first man loudly, it echoed through her office with much more power than the first man had expected it to, he flinched a little at her tone, his wings dropping to their lowest. “Sera, I-” Adam wanted to explain, wanted to turn it into the stupid joke it had been, but the older seraphim had enough of it. She had enough of Adam, she had enough of his behavior and she was about to let him know. “You’re behavior is no longer accepted by us,” she started what would turn into a monologue, Adam made himself appear a little smaller at her words. “You walk on heaven's holy ground, eat the food our Father provides and whenever someone does not show you respect, your first argument is that you're the first human,” all of the things Sera had listed were true, well they had been the most obvious ones but that didn't make them less true. “And yet you behave like one of them sinners,” that however caught Adam's attention. He was what? How dare she insult him like that, he was very much not acting like a sinner. Or was he?

“You walk heaven's streets with curses on your lips, you dirtied your own purity by sleeping with so many women and men, you behave like a total child and don't know when to stop and where to draw the line and I personally am under the impression that we let your behavior slide for way too long,” she stared Adam in the eyes, giving the first man the most serious look he had ever gotten from the seraphim. The brunette lowered his head in defeat, Sera had often given him shit for being too loud, too much of this, too much of that, she had told him he wasn't behaving like the pure first human should - but it wasn't Adam's fault, not really, because how was he supposed to behave ‘normal’ when God had given him two wives just to take them from him again when he was alive? How was he supposed to fit in and act like everyone else when all that would bring him would be pain?

“Maybe divine judgment failed you. Maybe you should have ended up in hell amongst the other sinners. Father certainly wouldn't have liked it, not after Lucifer's fall, but it would have been the correct decision.” And that made Adam crumble into pieces - at least mentally. Because deep down inside he knew she was right, that no angel other than him dared to stain the name of the Father above, no other angel dared to behave as reckless and merciless as he and his exorcists did. And yes, no other angel than him had slept with so many women and men - a thing he used to be proud of. Before he had met you, before you had become his lover, before he had committed himself to you and only you. Before you, he had been different.

She smoothened out her hair, straightened her back and looked down at Adam, “I have to attend an important meeting. You shall leave and overthink your actions, Adam.” And with that she left him there, leaving him as she had shattered not only his ego but the last piece of confidence he had held inside of him. It took the brunette a while to realize that Sera was not coming back to comfort him, to tell him that she had been too harsh, why should she? She was right after all, Adam was a horrible person, he knew that, had known it ever since.

-

When the door to your shared apartment opened and Adam walked through it, you were quick to get up and greet him with a warm hug, expecting your boyfriend to be just as excited to see you as you were to see him. But he wasn't, in fact he didn't even look at you as he crossed the living room in order to get to the bedroom, no ‘sup babes’, no ‘Fuck I've missed ya stupid ass' no fucking nothing. The tips of his feathers were dragging on the floor as he walked, a sign that something wasn't right - Adam always made sure that not a single inch of his beloved wings was touching the dirty ground, even in your apartment. The brunette clearly wasn't in the mood to talk, yet you went after him to let him know that he wasn't alone, that you were there no matter what was wrong.

You opened the bedroom door quietly and what you saw shattered your heart. Adam was laying on the bed, his body looked like a ball made out of feathers, he had curled in on himself, his wings shielded him from all of reality, from whatever was hurting him right now. Yet you saw how his body shook, the first man was crying.

Wordlessly you closed the door behind you, trying to do so as quietly as possible. Then you walked over to the bed and cuddled up behind him, one of your hand gently found its way into his hair, petting it just the way you knew he liked it whenever he was feeling upset about something, the other hand of yours smoothened out the feathers covering his wings, gently rubbed the little gap between where the wings grew out of his back - you were very aware how sensitive that area of the angelic body was given that you yourself had experienced it before.

For you it was ridiculously hard to keep quiet, you wanted to talk to him, wanted to ask what was upsetting him so much, why he was crying, what there was for you to do to make it better, but you didn't. You remained quiet, Adam had made it clear that he preferred not talking about it at the moment - or maybe he simply found himself unable to do so, you weren't quite sure which was the case but either way you respected it.

A small smile appeared on your face as the brunette leaned into your touch, he tilted his head backwards, sad, puffy and reddened eyes watched you as you continued to pet his hair without a single comment, if Adam wanted to talk, you would listen. If Adam wanted to stay quiet and enjoy your presence in silence you were fine with that as well. For you it simply was important that the first man knew he wasn't alone. You were there to provide comfort and a safe space he desperately seemed to need.

“Am I as fucking terrible as people tell me I am?” there it was again, his unnecessary cursing, fuck Sera had been right. He rolled himself over, buried his face in your neck and pressed his body against your own. Your body warmth calmed his nerves, made his mind quiet down for even just the tiniest moment, but it did cause it to quiet down. “Is that why I only have Lute and you left? Because I'm fucking terrible? Because I don't deserve damn good things to happen to me?” his voice was really just a whisper yet you understood every word perfectly fine, even if it was mumbled against your skin. Your hands remained on the gap between his wings and in his hair, giving Adam the stability he craved. He needed someone to cling onto, he was too unstable to hold himself together so you did that for him. “No,” your voice was soft and warm, yet serious, it caused Adam to blink in confusion. “I don't deserve you,” was the next thing he said, and that was where you drew the line, you gently tilted his head upwards, then placed a soft, loving kiss onto his lips, “Bullshit Adam, you're wonderful and I love you.” “But I’m not. I curse a-fucking-lot, I can't keep shit together, for fucks sake I can't even do the simple things like telling you I fucking love you every day.” And yes, that was true, but that didn't cause you to love him any less, if anything it was things you loved about him especially. “I don't care about all of that, I still love you.” “Will you leave me too? Like Eve? Like Lilith? Once you finally fucking find someone better?” You shook your head lightly, placed another kiss onto his forehead, your lips kept resting against his skin as you spoke, “No, dummy. To me there's no one better than you are. You're the best for me and you'll always be.” Adam didn't answer you.

He clung onto you even tighter, wrapped his wings around you and held you close. He didn't believe you, simply couldn't, not after what Sera had said. But at the same time the first man trusted you with his existence, so why would you lie to him? His inner conflict was silenced as you pulled him into another gentle kiss. You couldn't help but hum a soothing melody, “You’ve already changed so much, so many things you've done,” you felt as Adam's eyes fell shut and as his body relaxed underneath your touch. “So many songs you've sung, and in the end, they will still hold their grudge,” you felt him nuzzle against your skin, felt how his breath evened out. “There’s something I've been dying to say, more than anything,” you smiled as you sang the last part, feeling Adam's fingers digging in your skin as he tried to pull you even closer - not that it was nearly enough though. “More than anything, need you to know I love you more than anything.” The first man pressed a sloppy, lazy kiss against your jaw before he fell asleep, from his lips fell a quiet, “More than anything.”

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #adam x male reader #male reader #adam x y/n #adam x reader #adam x you

[persesphonestears]

Another tattoo

(Gif not mine :>)

A/N: So I have to make this a more than one part series because I wrote like way too much and I’m gonna die if I don’t post this already. Also so sorry it’s only Ghost in this post, but promise the second part will have the others!! I actually had so much fun writing this like omfg, I don’t have any piercings or tats for myself thanks to money problems atm but like actually I don’t know where I was going with that- uh anyway enjoy! I’m very tired. (looking at the amount now seems rlly small so sorry :/) ALSO I FUCKIN HATE THE NAME TOO LEAVE ME ALONE.

CW: He/they pronouns used for reader(? I might have ended up just using they/them), Reader has tattoos and piercings, I DONT THINK I USED Y/N LES GOO, I call ghost Simon when he isn't at work, Probably incorrect tattoo health procedures, Reader may be a little bland when first meeting Ghost(?), small mentions of gods(?)

Word count: 1342

Simon was finally let off for a break, given it’s only because Price knew he wasn’t keeping himself healthy or sleeping, so being the ‘dad’ boss he is, Simon was forced to take time off. While Simon wasn’t even close to being happy about having to not stay at base and having to make himself food and all the other human necessities, he’d been wanting a new tattoo for some time now. While maybe some of the privates would simply tattoo each other with pen ink, he’d rather die on the field than die from an infection from a more than likely shitty tattoo.

Walking through the somewhat dodgy looking part of his hometown, looking for a seemingly decent tattoo shop. While walking his eye was caught by the small little tattoo shop that looked clean and not all that dodgy. A small bell as the door opened rang as Simon stepped through, looking around at the walls he was impressed with the artwork that was displayed. He could hear faint 2000s rock music in the background of the shop, standing awkwardly waiting to see if anyone was actually here.

Turning around to walk out, he heard a small crash and a string of curses that followed.

Simon stopped and turned to see a short tattooed and pierced person walking out from the back of the shop. “Hi, sorry I was uh..” their talking trailed off as he looked down to see a fresh and unfinished tattoo on their leg. Unknown to Simon, the person in front of him was just very very happy that they weren’t able to be seen from the back, preferring not to be caught staring at the huge 6’4 man in their shop. 

“Uh anyway, I’m guessing you don’t have an appointment cause I don’t have any till later tonight, but I take walk in’s, both for tats and piercings'' They rambled off as they walked around to the front desk checking through their computer, Simon watched them, surprised by the feeling of fluttering in his stomach. Pushing it away he cleared his throat “Uh yeah walk in, are you able to tat up my other forearm?” he was wearing a t-shirt under his hoodie, happy he wasn’t going to be taking his shirt off. “Mhm sure, I just need to ask a few questions and then get you to sign some consent forms, that cool?” He asked walking back around and sitting on one of the couch chairs at the front, taking a seat after them, Simon sat and agreed to the others' request.

“Cool, alright so first is which arm you want it on obviously and if you have any tattoos on your forearm already?” Simon answered with short and gruff answers “My right arm and no, my left is already tattooed(I think I can’t remember which arm of his is tatted).” “Right cool okay so I’m not gonna bother asking if you're of age because it's pretty obvious because holy shit you are probably the biggest and hottest man I’ve ever seen, but just read through these quick and sign ‘em” Thanking whatever gods there were for people not being able to read minds. Handing the forms to Simon he grabbed them and the pen from your hands, giving a quick read through signing where he had to. Putting them back on the desk, you grabbed them right back and skimmed through them, “Okay Simon, well what do you want?”.

—tiny time skip–

After setting everything up and placing the stencil of the sketch that you drew up (That Simon wouldn’t admit but absolutely adored) onto the gruff military man that was sitting in your chair. “Okay, you ready?” A simple nod was what you received in response. Instead of pushing you continued to go ahead and start his tattoo, not once deciding to ask about some of the many scars that graced his arms. Them seemingly adding onto your attraction for the stranger in your shop as he sat still and silent. Becoming; as you do when tattooing, engrossed in the soft buzzing, the hushed music of your playlist and the ink going into skin at your hand.

“How many do you ‘got?” The gruff voice from above me spoke as I continued to stab his skin. “Tats or piercings?” Responding with another question as I kept my focus on the shading, trying to not let the fact that this absolute 10/10 was asking you about yourself. Sure it was most likely to just make conversation but you could dream. “Both?” The voice behind the black surgical mask didn’t sound overly confident but even when peeking up at the man he was still only looking forward. “I stopped counting how many tats I got a while ago. As for my piercings uh..” cutting myself off to count in my head. “I’d say about 9, not counting my ears.” Feeling a cold gaze turn towards me I stiffen slightly. 

“You only have 6 on your face.” (I chose to give reader a vertical labret, septum, both sides of the nose(like so you could use a chain), bridge, eyebrow :D) His voice replies, stifling my laugh “yeah I know I just don’t normally let people see my chest or just randomly show my stomach.” Giggling, I look up to see his ears turning a slight pink. “R-right sorry.” Trying not to laugh at a client, we continued to talk for a bit more before I suggested to put a movie on more to make it less uncomfortable for me with the awkward conversation. After picking a movie, he seemed to relax just a tad more, getting myself comfortable. I continued to finish up the art piece I was adding to someone's skin.

—another time skip because Ghost would get something edgy and big and I can’t keep writing silly awkwardness—

By the time you had finished and made sure to add some disinfectant and soothing cream to the skin before wrapping it up. You pat his shoulder smiling softly “you’re all done big guy”. Rising from the seat, he walked somehow (even though this man is huge) silently towards the front desk. Scanning his card and giving him the papers that explained how to look after his tattoo. “Thank you. You’re uhm. Very handsome- or uh pretty? I don’t know, can I just get your number?” Stumbling over his words brought a smile to your face. “Sure, I’d uh I’d actually really like it if you took my number” you ramble as you grab some scrap paper, quickly writing your personal number you hand it to him.

Seeing his eyes scrunch slightly, let you know he was smiling at you, and god almighty if the fact that this huge, scary, masked, stoic, man giving you a smile, that you couldn’t even see, wouldn’t make you swoon. Giving you a quick nod he walked out, the small bell above your door ringing in your ears as you watched him leave. 

Giggling to yourself as you stupidly fist pumped the air and twirled around happily, not registering the sound of the bell being rung, indicating the opening of a door. What you did register was the once again gruff voice, clearing their throat as you turned back to look at the man who just left back in your shop. “Forgot ma’ cap.” Swiftly grabbing his hat back with what you could only assume was the smuggest look ever he turned back around. This time leaving you with a curt “Bye now, doll”

Leaving you red faced, in the middle of your own shop. Snapping out of it you groaned loudly before retreating to the floor, hidden by the desk. Cursing yourself for your stupid victory jig you did before even making sure that he wouldn’t come back for a bit. A buzz in your pocket distracted you from your internal dread, pulling out your phone and opening it to see a message from an unknown number. “That lil’ dance was very cute btw”.

A/N: *twerks cutely* ANYWAY

#cod x reader #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 x reader #cod #cod mw2 ghost #simon 'ghost' riley #arctic writes #cod ghost #simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 #cod ghost x reader #ghost call of duty #ghost cod #ghost imagine #ghost modern warfare #ghost mwii #ghost simon riley #ghost x male reader #ghost x reader #ghost x you #mw2 ghost #simon ghost riley fanfic #simon ghost riley imagine #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x you #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty fic

[ygodmyy20]

Okay I finally am getting around to this post! It's the 'Fuck how can mob psycho help me in so many ways god damnit I hate and love this show' post!

Shigeo joining the body improvement club, and everything about this part of his story is so personal to me. I just have to talk about it.

So as we all know at the start of the story, Shigeo joins the body improvement club to impress Tsubomi. Thats it. Thats the goal. He also joins because he wants to get stronger and not rely on his psychic powers but really like...the main reason is to impress her.

And this isn't new. A character wanting to get fit, lose weight, change some physical part of themselves for a crush is SO common in stories that you barely notice it.

But what I love, what I ADORE is how this progresses and changes.

This gif from an amazing AMV by @thekagepro24 and it just UGH hits me so hard it is so perfect!!! I could watch this 5 second gif over and over and over again

I just am. I just am dying while running, I just am making progress, I just am enjoying this because I really like it.

This puts everything I feel into visuals (it's so gooooood watch the AMV!!! DO IIIIIIT)

So many times society tells us to change something about ourselves, or we tell ourselves to change for the appeal of others.

Lose weight so people think you're pretty.

Get fit so you can get into clothes that make you look hot.

Get swol to make a person think you're attractive.

You are the one and only you, this is your one and only body. So why are you working out, why do you WANT to get "swol" who are you trying to impress. Is it for yourself? A crush? Society?

I have battled with the above for so long. I come from an athletic background, and did a lot of sports growing up, but I have never been small. I have battled with weight my whole life and had my own shitty bouts with ED.

I have been in therapy, I have read books, I have watched videos, I've been in and out of PT for nearly 5 years because of a lower back and hip pain that NEVER went away.

I never figured out WHY i wanted to exercise. It just always was "To lose weight" because I couldn't get that goal out of my head for years and years and years.

But then I watched mob psycho 100.

And I started a new type of physical therapy.

And was it mp100 or was it the therapy finally working, who can say which did it—probably both—but one day I thought...

....maybe I should just go for a run...for 5-10 mins. Just to see how it feels. It went against all parts of my athlete brain (because 10 mins is too short to see "gains"....which is dumb but whatever)

I thought of Shigeo and how he basically passed out every time he ran for like 2 mins, but he got better. He had to start from 0, well...kinda like negative 5 really. But then he was doing so much not even a few months in!

35 pushups is so hard!!! You go my boi.

Shigeo started off doing it all for Tsubomi, for others, and even if he really wanted to do it to improve himself I think it was a secondary goal initially. Main goal was to impress someone. Secondary was to get stronger.

But then the marathon happened. And those goals SWITCHED! DURING THE RACE! just....man it hit me. It hit me hard. THAT WHOLE EPISODE IS JUST A LOT FOR ME GOD DAMN

He ran for her initially but he continued running for himself. He continued working at it because he wanted to and in the end, after everything, after confession arc, after all that

This scene!!! makes me cry happy tears!! look at how happy he is UGH IT JUST IS SO UGGGHHHHHHH

Anyway if you made it this far, know that everyones journey through their body improvement, mental improvement, emotional improvement is different. We all have to tackle it in the way that works for us.

It took me nearly 10 years to start again because of this beautiful anime connecting the right dots in my brain.

Every journey is different, but just keep fighting on and you'll figure it out!

#mp100 #mob psycho 100 #mp100 analyis...? #sorta? #more like a essay on personal life and mob psycho #not sure what to tag it as #but I just hope others can find the beauty in this part of the story #you don't have to lose weight to be healthy #you don't have to necessarily exercise in the same way as Mob #you don't even NEED to exercise in the way people expect you to #you just have to do what works for you! #it took me a long time to get here #body improvement club #FIGHT ON!

[sha-n-dowbannedlol]

K. Jotaro — you're a barista and he's a regular; seeing him almost every day should be normal, right?

CW: Stalking, Obsession, Dark Themes

We will experience different kinds of.. 'effects' throughout our lives. There's the ever-famous Butterfly Effect, wherein a small change, a small choice or an action could lead to vastly different outcomes. There's also the Domino Effect, where an event leads to a chain reaction of various events, and the Snowball effect, where a small mistake eventually snowballs into a huge problem.

For you, what set off all of these effects in your life simultaneously was a simple act of kindness toward a stranger.

It was a lovely afternoon, the sun's rays still bright but not scaldingly hot as it was during noon when the sun was at its highest. You were taking a short break and you decided to spend it by people gazing at the front of the store as the staff room felt too suffocating at the moment and staying in the cafe might end up with customers asking for your service—God knows how entitled some of them can be.

There was no way you wouldn't be able to notice the tall man that walked past you, his eyes trained on the notebook he held in his hands, his white coat long enough that it reaches his calves. The first thought that came to your mind then was: Isn't he hot in his outfit? Before you noticed the weird hat that seems to fuse with his hair. You raised your brow for a bit, before looking away and searching for another interesting person to walk by.

Weird, but not the weirdest thing you've seen. Working in the retail business, it goes without saying that you end up meeting different types of people; ranging from entitled ones to weird freaks—honestly, you're lucky if you managed to encounter a handful of nice ones, those were always the highlight of your day in your shitty job.

The sudden strong gust of wind took you by surprise, and the sound of someone's coat fluttering in the wind came after. As you turn to look at the sound, your body instinctively moved in response to the sight of a white... something making its way towards you, carried by the wind.

Blinking to get your mind out of the state of shock, your gaze went from the tall man earlier whose eyes are now on you, his expression indifferent before you allow your eyes to fall to your hand, still holding the object that was brought to you by the wind. As you have seen at a glance earlier, it was white, with gold pins adorning the front, and its back ripped off and dyed black.

So that's how he makes it seems like his hat was fused into his hair.

For such a huge man, he moves too silently for your own liking, as he almost gave you a heart attack when your gaze was met with his chest when you looked up to gaze at him again. Jumping back slightly, you pressed your free hand to your chest with your eyes widened as you looked up at his azure gaze that was looking down at you, and you never fully realized just how terrifying his build was until this moment.

His still emotionless face gives you the impression that he must be a reticent man, perhaps, just reserved with strangers. In all honesty, you understand why. Some people are just...... creepy sometimes. He only blinks at you, but you can see his outstretched hand from your peripheral vision and you immediately knew what he was trying to tell you.

Suppressing a relieved sigh, you allow your tensed shoulders to relax, before placing the bizarre hat in his palm. Your fingers brush against his, but you didn't pay it any mind as your phone started ringing, the sound of your alarm blaring—signifying the end of your shift. He only nods at you in appreciation, a silent thank you, and you only nodded back before reaching for your phone and your body turning as you start walking back inside the cafe.

Much to your surprise, the weird hat guy was back the next day—but this time, instead of seeing him just passing by, he's standing in front of you, the registrar, with the counter of the cafe separating the two of you from each other.

"Welcome," you give him your customer service smile, "What can I get you today, Sir?"

His eyes were on you for a while before darting toward the menu behind you. He's pretty lucky there isn't anyone in the line right now—and you're lucky about that too, not wanting to deal with a snappy customer because this one is taking a bit too long to order. Not long after that, he fixes his gaze on you again.

He finally gives you his order, just a regular coffee. You would have been annoyed at him for taking so long to think, only to order something so common if you weren't used to it—and you were quite distracted by his voice, it wasn't that you didn't expect it, but it was really deep.

"Your name, Sir?" You ask, your smile still plastered on your face. A pen in your dominant hand and his cup in the other.

"Jotaro," he responds, and you nodded absentmindedly as you write his name on the cup, hoping you spelled the foreign name right.

"Okay. I'll call for you when your order is ready."

Ever since that day, you started seeing him more often. At first, he'd only stop by once or twice per week, and then, every weekday, until it ended up with him going every single day to the point even your coworker has taken notice of the weird-hat guy that you now had a name for; Jotaro.

It was said that we, humans, have a sixth sense, and in a way, we're able to sense it whenever someone is watching us. And you've been having a feeling for a while now that someone is watching your every move whenever you're at work, but you just chalked it up to stress. You being looked at by the customers is nothing new, and it never bothered you before.... mayhaps, you really are just tired.

Taking your break for the day, you allowed yourself to indulge in your favorite drink. One sip and you can feel the stress start to melt away already, and you allow yourself to let out a close-eyed smile. Only for your peace to immediately be ruined by your co-worker's voice.

"I know that's your favorite, but that's all you drink here. Aren't you sick of it?" they ask, a brow raised in your direction.

You debated internally whether you were going to respond to them or not, but before you even had the chance to defend yourself, a customer had already appeared by the cash register which prompted them to focus on their work and gave you the chance to slip away into the staff room.

The feeling of eyes burning through you still not leaving.

The next day, you greet Jotaro with a smile—your smile now more genuine that when you first met the guy. He was still as quiet as ever, only coming in to order his drink, seat at his usual booth to continue his work, and finishing his order before leaving without saying goodbye. But he's still much better than the other customer you've had to deal with, especially much better than a bunch of rambunctious teenagers.

"Welcome, Jotaro." You greet, watching as his gaze zeroes in on you at the sound of his name coming from your lips, "The usual?"

The man continues to stare at you, not uttering a word or any signal to affirm your words. Confused, you tilt your head to the side as you try to get a read on him—an impossible feat, considering he always wears that neutral expression on his face. Blank aquamarine eyes stare at you, to which you had no choice but to stare back.

"Jotaro?"

This time, you seem to have successfully snapped him out of his reverie as he blinks owlishly at the realization he had been openly staring at you. He clears his throat before his eyes finally leave your face to glance over the menu behind you.

"The usual for you?" You try again, and the upturn of your lips now lessened significantly.

"I'd like to try something new today," was his response, shaking his head with his eyes going back to you after he seems to have found what he was looking for. Nodding to himself, he finally opens his mouth to speak.

Much to your surprise, he asked for an order of your exact favorite drink. Your smile widens at his choice, punching his order into the register while mindlessly commenting on his order.

"Good choice," you spoke, "That's my favorite, actually."

He only nods in response, before bringing his wallet out to pay for his drink. You hadn't really thought much of it, even if it didn't seem like a drink he would have, it's nice that he's willing to try something new.

Ever since that day, that certain drink became his regular order, and you would always have a smile on your face while serving him his drink. You hadn't really thought much of it, after all, there was no reason to.

You've never really seen Jotaro outside of work, except for that one time you had to commute on the way to work.

Your day was going horribly at that time. You slept through your alarm, you almost slipped and fell to your death in your own bathroom, and just to make matters worst, you find that some strange thought it would be funny to burst a hole in the tires of your car. Cursing to yourself, you rushed to the nearest bus stop, hoping you can still make it to your shift just in time.

Surprisingly, just when you were nearing the bus stop, you see a familiar figure standing there with a notebook in his hand, wearing the same clothing as when you first met, down to the golden pins in his hat that changed constantly. You thought twice about greeting him at first, but before you could even try to hide from him, his piercing gaze has already met yours.

He didn't seem surprised to see you there, but then again, when did you ever see this man show a glimpse of emotion, anyway?

"Hello," you greet, waving timidly, he only nods at you in response.

The journey to your workplace was silent, with the tall man only focusing on his notes and you didn't dare disturb him. He seems to be the type to keep to himself, a man of a few words, and you weren't really that close to him (and in all honesty, you didn't care about him enough to break the silence between the two of you). You sat next to him on the bus, you both got off at the same stop, and you walked together to your workplace.

By the time you clocked in and were manning the register, he had already ordered his drink and was already sitting in his usual seat, working on his laptop.

This time, however, he didn't leave at the same time he usually does. He instead waited for your shift to end, and similar to earlier in the day, you both walked next to each other to the stop, rode the same bus next to each other, and got off at the same stop. You nod at him in goodbye, thanking him for the company and he only nodded back to acknowledge your words—You spent the next few days like this, just until you finally had your day off when you finally got your car fixed.

You hadn't really thought much of Jotaro at the time, you had no reason to, after all. He was just a regular who happen to live in the same area as you, and there wasn't really anything about him that entices you. But that all changed that one fateful day.

Watching Jotaro walk out from the cafe, your co-worker suddenly nudges you with their elbow with a cheeky smile on their face. It was certainly a slow day, which you were thankful for.

"When are you going to introduce your boyfriend, hmm?" They ask, crossing their arms across their chest. You raise a brow at them, confused at their words.

"Boyfriend? Him?" You ask, pointing at the door that Jotaro just went out of, "Are you serious?"

"Is he not?" Your co-worker is just as confused as you, "You went to work with him before, didn't you? Went home with him too?"

"Oh, someone broke my car that time, we just happen to live in the same area. I guess he wanted to make sure I was safe or something." You shrug it off, moving to get a rug, about to leave the counter to clean the table Jotaro left, though you only need to wipe the tables as Jotaro cleans up after himself anyway.

"Really?" They ask, "How come he's only around when you have a shift, then?"

"...What?"

You stop in your tracks, turning to look at them. This information was news to you, you thought he came here every day...

"He once came here when you weren't around, he got up to the cashier and asked where you were." Your co-worker recalled, their voice getting more concerned about the situation the more they speak, "When I told him it was your day off, he suddenly turned and left. He stopped coming whenever its that day of the week ever since then."

"That's kind of...." you clear your throat, looking at your co-worker incredulously, not sure as to what words you should use to describe the situation. Sure, you had a few admirers amongst your regulars that only came to the cafe to see you, but knowing that some stranger took the time to learn your work schedule still scares you a bit.

"Anyway, I'll go clean his table." You said, deciding to avoid the topic. Your co-worker didn't push the topic, seeing how visibly uncomfortable you were.

Approaching his table, you did your job of wiping it down, and just as when you were about to leave, you noticed a small, brown envelope on the floor. It must have belonged to Jotaro, possibly falling from his things when he left. You brought it with you to the counter, deciding to give it back to him tomorrow, if it did belong to him.

"What's that?" your co-worker immediately took notice of the envelope in your hand the moment you walked into the staff room,

"I found it on the floor," you respond, suddenly feeling exhausted, "Jo- He must have dropped it."

"You sure it's not from some other customer?" They ask, putting a hand out, wordlessly asking for the envelope in your grasp and you reach your hand out to give it to them.

However, the envelope accidentally slips through your grip before your co-worker could get a hold of it and it ended up falling to the floor, its flap opening and some of its contents spilling out face down.

Your co-worker cursed before you both apologized at the same time, they were quick to get on one knee to pick up the spilled... photos? from inside, and in their rush to put it back in the envelope, they accidentally saw the content of one photo which immediately froze them in place.

You watch as their pupils dilate, their skin turning pale as they freeze in surprise, eyes glued to the photo. Raising a brow, you open your mouth to ask if they were alright but they immediately opened the envelope in their other hand to look at its contents and you were sure you can see their heart dropping to their stomach at the sight of the photos in the envelope.

"Hey!" you tried to stop them, "That's not ours, we shouldn't-"

You were cut off as your co-worker spilled the contents of the images on the floor. The sight of them made your blood run cold, you were just about sure that your heart stopped beating out of shock—because in these images, your own face stared back at you.

They were stolen images, and you just about realized why Jotaro always chose to sit at that booth; because it gave him a clear view of you on the counter. There were some of you on the counter, some when you were serving other customers, but what just made your blood run cold was there were pictures of you in your own home. You recognize that shirt from the one you wore that morning, what was even more chilling was that there were pictures of you. Asleep. In your room.

He broke into your home to take pictures of your sleeping form.

You didn't know what to think. You didn't know what to do.

How long had he been doing this? How did you know where you lived? Did he follow you home before? How did he get into your home? Was it through the window? Did he find your spare keys?

So many thoughts ran through your mind, too many for you to comprehend. You felt like crying, but no tears came out. Not wanting to see any more of it, you swiped the envelope from your co-worker's hand, swiftly gathering the photos and putting them back inside with your fingers trembling.

By the time you were finished putting it all away, the sound of the door to the staff room slamming open made you jump in surprise, clutching onto the envelope, followed by the voice of your manager cussing the both of you loudly.

"What are you two doing here?!! Why is no one manning the counter?" Your manager yelled out, oblivious to the tense mood of the room, "There's a customer waiting!!"

You looked behind him to see the said customer, and you feel your blood drain from your face, turning pale at the sight of a familiar tall figure wearing his eccentric hat that fused into his hair.

"He said he dropped an envelope with important documents when he left, have you se-" your manager cut themself off as their eyes look over at you, landing at the brown envelope you held in your still trembling hands, "Oh, you did. Go give it to him."

"But w-" your co-worker tried to speak for you,

"Give it to him."

But of course, your manager didn't care. It was just your luck, one of your customers is a hardcore stalker and your manager didn't care enough to spare five seconds to listen to you. Eventually, your manager pushed you out of the staff room and back to the counter, in front of....him.... and you were forced to give the envelope back, all while your manager glared at you through his smile.

"It's important, but don't threaten them over it," he spoke, and you would have appreciated him standing up for you had you not seen what was inside that godforsaken envelope.

He gently gets the envelope from your hand, his gaze focused on you as they usually are and you turned your eyes to look somewhere else. As much as you want to act like you haven't seen anything to not tip him off, you just can't bring yourself to look at him without feeling sick to your stomach.

"You didn't see what's inside.." He asks, and suddenly, his deep voice which usually sounds calm and soothing became menacing, "Did you?"

"Of course not!" Your manager was quick to answer for you, "We value our customers' privacy!-"

"Shut up, I wasn't talking to you." His gaze didn't leave you as he speaks, still piercing through you, he spoke your name and you suddenly tensed up. "You didn't see anything, right?"

"No, sir." you lied.

He knows you're lying.

"We value our customers' privacy..."

He knows.

"Okay, I believe you."

He doesn't.

"Is that all, sir?"

For the first time since you've met him, he gives you a smile. To another, it may seem charming, a genuine smile, even. But to you, it was just bone-chilling.

"That is all," He says, stuffing said envelope in his white coat, "See you later,"

The moment the bell on the cafe's door rang, signifying his exit from the establishment, your knees suddenly gave out and you ended up on the floor with your tears finally streaming freely down your cheeks.

"Calls the cops," you heaved, "Call the cops, please"

Jotaro couldn't help but chuckle as he leaves. He hadn't meant to leave the envelope, he swears, after all, this contained his precious treasure—your images that he worked diligently for every day to capture. But he isn't fond of the look you were giving him earlier, pupils dilated in fear, you wouldn't even look at him nor say his name.

He catches a glimpse of the tears in your eyes before you collapse behind the counter and he can only sigh to himself as he continues walking.

Don't worry. He'll be sure to wipe the tears from your face when he visits your room tonight.

#jotaro kujo x reader #jotaro kujo #jotaro kujo x y/n #jotaro x reader #jojo's bizarre adventure x reader #jojo's bizarre adventure #jjba #jjba imagines #jjba x reader #jjba x you #jjba x y/n

[axel-ambassador]

Its 4 am for me and I just wanna talk about why poly shipping is so good especially in Total drama.

TD is such a unique show that is able to get away with having an extreme abundance of characters, and by extension, ships, without it coming across as overbearing. Like name a show with over 100 characters that you know the name and personality of. It's an extremely impressive feat.

That said with so many characters there are so many different shipping opportunities. Sometimes the writers give two characters really good chemistry as friends or enemies and the fans take it to the next level. Sometimes the writers completely fumble the potential they have and the fans pick it up from there. Sometimes there are rare pairs that in context make no sense but fans make them work and that's so cool.

Anyway back to my point. I personally hate needless drama, in real life and in fiction. Fiction especially because typically said drama involves character derailment and general disappointment for the fans of said characters involved.

My point is that I hate the love triangle. I hate the drama it caused. I hate how predictable it was. I hate that it was an arc spread over multiple seasons starting in season 2 and ultimately lead to nothing by the end of season 5. I hate how such a lazy trope is what defined Gwen, Duncan, and Courtney's characters for a multitude of years only for it to mean nothing, and I'm not exaggerating, nothing, by the end of All Stars; their last canonical appearances.

Duncney was destined to break up after island, that's not what I have an issue with. Duncan didn't have to frickin cheat and drag Gwen in a long with him. I love Gwuncan in concept, I really do, but the terrible execution of it which directly contributed to the down fall of both characters sours the memory and idea of the honestly awesome relationship between two of the most popular characters in the entire series.

And then All Stars rolls around and watching it as a Gwen and Courtney fan is like getting a warm embrace, two incredible characters are finally on good terms, only for that embrace to become a suplex, Sundae Muddy Sundae. So now you're on the ground feeling hurt and quite betrayed. And then the realization that it all was for nothing, Gwen and Duncan breaking up despite them getting together being such a huge plot point, Gwen and Courtney being back to square one despite a whole seasons worth of investment in their relationship, character derailment up the goddamn wazoo on all 3 ends, is like the show consecutively spitting in your face.

You wanna know how all of this frustration, pain, and shitty writing could have been avoided? Poly shipping.

Duncan and Courtney have a serious talk about their relationship, how it's incredibly toxic and they need to smooth things out if they want to progress as a couple.

Gwen over here having a bi panic as, oh no, maybe she likes Duncan more than she thought, and she's also slowly falling for his girlfriend since they've had no one but each other to talk to for half a season.

Courtney coming to terms with huh maybe she's not as straight as she thought and how Gwen calms her in a way Duncan never could.

Meanwhile Duncan realizes he likes Gwen for the opposite reasons he likes Courtney. Courtney knows how to push his buttons and he loves how much it drives him crazy. Gwen is much more down to earth but is just as chaotic and a rebel as he is.

They don't kiss in the confessional in London. They talk. Jesus Christ if there's one thing the characters in this God forsaken show don't know how to do it's fuckin communicate. Especially in relationships.

They come to the conclusion that they like each other, and they both like Courtney. So they go and talk to Courtney, and Tyler can do whatever the hell it is he planned on originally.

So there you go. What was meant to be an informative post on poly shipping turned into a rant and ultimately sloppy fix of the love triangle.

Back to my original point I was trying to make but got side tracked. Polyshipping is a multi shippers heaven. As a multi shipper, it's so much easier to make everyone date instead of just picking which ship I like more.

There are characters with great chemistry that would never be considered canon, Gwourtney, Alenoah, Gweather, Heathney, Nowen, I could go on. There's obviously an overlap in some of those.

I love Gwourtney, but Gweather and Heathney are so cool too. I don't know which one to pick. The great thing is that you don't have to pick with Gweathney. Or Gwuncaney. Or Alenowen. Or Aleheathcan.

There is so much potential with so many characters in this show that it can be challenging to figure out which dynamics you love best and which to pick from.

Not only does polyshipping make that easier but also hella more painless and comical in terms of character interactions.

Thank you for your time and I'm sorry.

#total drama #td gwen #total drama gwen #td courtney #total drama courtney #td duncan #total drama duncan #total drama island #total drama world tour #total drama all stars #love triangle #rant #polyamory #poly ship #gwuncan #gwourtney #duncney #i'm sorry

[shayyprasad]

games // part three | peter parker

masterlist to this here!

#adriencore

the only exception paramore

not proofread lolz

(first person)

over the last couple weeks, peter and i had gotten rather close. which was great, you know. it was nice to have a friend that i wasn't constantly yearning to impress. 

everything with him was so easy. i didn't have to try when i was with him. 

i guess that was my favorite part of peter's company. honestly, i couldn't remember the last time i had a friend like him. 

now i can see why my dad liked him so much. peter just had that. i'm not sure what "that" was. it was something that made being around him so enticing. so fun. how was this kid not popular? he was so much better then flash is, and ever will be. 

i saw him sitting by ned at lunch, and i wanted to join them. granted, ned and i had never really talked, but i'm sure he was great. after all, peter wouldn't hang out with someone shitty. i really liked him. 

as friends, of course. yeah. he was like... a brother? 

i got up, but liz stopped me, "where are you going?"

"oh, um, by peter."

"peter?" flash scoffed. "why the fuck would you willingly want to hang out with that ass?"

"first," i snapped, "peter's not an ass. if anyone is, it's you. he's actually really cool, but you have the iq of a goldfish so you wouldn't realize that."

liz and flash stared at me, jaws slacked. okay, so that was a bit bitchy, but they asked for it. it was out of their place to talk about peter like that. 

he was so nice and freaking kind and special and one of a kind and i loved him so-

oh god. 

no, no, it was fine if i loved him. 

he was my friend, and i loved all my friends. 

yep. 

i sat down by him and he looked up. "hi, babes."

"oh- uh, hi, y/n."

ned's eyes widened and i smiled at him. "it's ned, yeah? we have 8th together."

y-yeah! we do!"

"i'm y/n."

"i know! i-i mean, yeah. i've seen you around."

i was getting deja-vu all of a sudden. 

peter ignored ned, "did you need something?"

"nah. just got bored of my friends. god, i don't even know why i hang out with them, they're such jerks. honestly, you're so much better."

i pretended not to see ned wink not-so-subtly at peter beforing leaving to sit by betty and some of her friends. 

peter was really pretty, i noticed. well, i'd noticed before, but that was irrelevent.

"so, um, uh- i... i was wondering if-" he was red-faced, then squeezed his eyes shut. "if you- you'd like to go on a date with me?" peter stuttered.

i gaped. 

i did not see that coming at all. 

"oh, christ," he murmured, "i shouldn't have said anything, and i fucked this up, and i'm so, so, so sorry-"

"yes."

i said it quickly, and i wasn't sure where it came from. but it was kind of late to go back now. what the fuck was i doing? i lov- liked him.

i liked him, right?

but was that okay? no- i can't-

i cut off my own train of thoughts, "i will. yeah. i'd love to."

and god, he looked so happy. "really? this- this isn't a joke?"

it hurt me to think that he thought that. who'd messed with him like that? 

i hate people.

"no! i- no! it's not!"

peter was smiling so bright and wide, how could i not as well? 

it didn't take away that sickly feeling pooling at the bottom of my stomach. 

yes, i like him. i like him so much. 

so why was i panicking like this? 

maybe i'd made a mistake. 

i don't know.

i didn't want to end up like them. i couldn't.

so i forced a smile on my face and listened to him talk about date ideas. 

- 

when i was younger, i saw my daddy cry

and curse at the wind

he broke his own heart and i watched

as he tried to reassemble it

it was old news that my parents weren't together. they'd had this big screaming, yelling fight. i've heard before that you say stupid, untrue, mean things when you're mad. but i know for a fact that's wrong. 

you say things you'd otherwise be afraid to admit. 

i think that's what happened with my parents. they had all these pent-up words, feelings, and emotions they needed out. and one day, they did. 

there wasn't going back from that. 

and my momma swore

that she would never let herself forget

and that was the day that i promised

i'd never sing of love if it does not exist

after the offical divorce, they had shared custody over me. i went back and forth from house to house, and it wasn't something i'd ever gotten used to. 

lots of kids' parents' went through that. so i wasn't special. 

but maybe there's a line where it differs.

my mom and dad were parents straight out of a hallmark movie. perfect love, perfect family, perfect life. we had every meal as a family, shared our feelings (my mom was adamant on making my dad do this, she said it brought us closer together), and even wore matching pjs. 

so i don't know what went wrong. 

maybe i know somewhere deep in my soul

that love never lasts

and we've got to find other ways to make it alone                                                                                               

or keep a straight face

i woke up to screaming and shouting downstairs that one night. my mom was throwing things and breaking glass and my dad was waving his hands around wildly, telling her that she was insane.

i never found out why they fought that night. it wasn't something i'd concerned myself with before, and by the time i did, it seemed too late. 

things went south for my mother not long after the divorce. she had financial problems and stuff, and got some mental disorders? i don't know. i'm not sure. i was kinda young. well, not that young. i was old enough to remember. twelve, thirteen, maybe?

she got into drugs. addicted and whatnot. neglected me, i suppose. i feel like that was harsh. it wasn't like that. she was my favorite person when she was sober or whatever. but the second she wasn't, i didn't exist. 

she wasn't sober a lot, and i guess that was the problem.

anyways, my dad found out, brought this whole thing to court and he was granted full custody. 

and i've always lived like this

keeping a comfortable distance

and up until now i had sworn to myself

that I'm content with loneliness

because none of it was ever worth the risk

my mom died shortly after from an accidental overdose. 

dad said "accidental," but he had this weird look on his face that made me think otherwise. 

but i didn't like thinking about it. so i didn't, not really. 

she was angel, flying and free now. 

that's what i told myself whenever i missed her. 

i know for a fact they didn't ever talk unless they absolutely had to, and even then, it wasn't always kindly. it was a toxic breakup, and i knew that much. 

i've got a tight grip on reality

but i can't let go of what's in front of me here

i know you're leaving in the morning when you wake up

leave me with some kind of proof it's not a dream

i finished my last curl, even though i knew for a fact i wasn't going. i was hoping that by the time i was done with my hair, i'd have some courage mustered up. 

i didn't.

i was scared. 

from the second i got home, i pondered my feelings for peter and honestly reached a realization that i was in love with him. 

my mom was in love with my dad. 

look where that got her. 

she went off the rails, completely. and a part of my dad never came back. he was more reserved now, i'd say. and i think finding pepper made him a little better about that. pepper made him happy in ways i could never, but their relationship would never be as perfect as my mom and dad's were. 

there was something different about it, and i couldn't ever explain it in words, i don't think.

i looked at the girl across me in the mirror, and i wanted to throw her off the balcony, it was a mood really. 

mascara and eyeliner rained down her cheeks, creating one big smudged mess. 

what if i ended up like my mom? dead and never complete again? wanting the one thing that i couldn't have?

no, no, peter wasn't like that. he was sweet, he was kind. he put everybody before himself, which is one of the reasons i loved him. 

but my dad was like that, too. he was a good man, not selfish in the ways that mattered. 

look where that got him. 

i didn't end up going. i cried in my bedroom, angry that i couldn't get over this stupid fear. i didn't want to be heartbroken. 

but what was there any good, if i was the one doing it to myself?

god, i don't know. 

i don't know anything anymore, it seems like for everything. 

-

(peter, first person) 

[two hours previous]

i told aunt may as soon as i got home about my date. we'd settled on some fancy diner at 7, and it only felt right for may to be the first person to know. 

i mean, she'd kinda already known about my crush. well, "crush" sounds like something a third grader would say, so i take it back. i really, really, really loved her. i was in love with her, but it seemed a little early to say that, so i didn't. 

may helped me get ready, she was excited. i tried to downplay it, like it wasn't a big deal, but i think she saw right through my facade. 

i swear, she knows everything. 

we settled on uncle ben's old tux, and she got a little teary-eyed and said i looked just like him. i kissed her forehead and told her not to cry, because i never liked seeing her sad. 

i told her that, but she said she wasn't sad. she was happy. she was happy that i was wearing it, and that it seemed right.

my hair was done by aunt may, gelled back a little to keep it in place, i'd say i looked pretty good. 

for one of the first times, i felt handsome, you know? like i wasn't just some highschool loser. 

it was funny how y/n had that type of hold on me. but it wasn't a bad thing, it kept me on my toes. 

damn, i loved her. 

and for a while, i thought she felt the same.

but the fact that i've been waiting an hour and a half for her to show up proves me otherwise. 

i really thought i had a chance here, but i guess it was all just fun and games to her.  

it's fine. what did i expect? 

i didn't want aunt may to find out, because for some reason, i didn't want her disliking y/n, because i still didn't. it felt like i had a responsibility to keep her reputation untarnished. i called and texted her, but she never responded. leaving a twenty dollar bill on the table, i finished my glass of water, and left. i ignored the pitying looks the waiters gave me. 

i webbed away, high above the city, so no one would see me. stopping at a tall skyscraper that was parallel to the avenger's tower, i sat at the top, pulling my knees to my chest. 

i suppose this was kinda on me, it was stupid to get my hopes up. 

y/n had done this to so many other guys, and i was stupid to think i was any different. 

i fell for it. i fell for her. 

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #spiderman #peter parker #angst #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #games part three

[marivenah]

OCs as Horror Movie Stereotypes

I was tagged by @corvosattano @leviiackrman and @voidika to do this uquiz, thank you all!

sending tags to @risingsh0t @sstewyhosseini @nightbloodbix @detectivelokis @jinfromyarikawa @river-ward @poisonedtruth @ghastlyrider @confidentandgood @josephslittledeputy @aceghosts @socially-awkward-skeleton @jackiesarch @madparadoxum @indorilnerevarine @shadowglens @purplehairsecretlair @nightwingshero @fourlittleseedlings @strangefable @kyber-infinitygems @theresaruggedroad @shegetsburned @roofgeese @jacobseed and YOU!

the whore

sure, sex is pleasurable and fun, but do you really think doing the nasty in the middle of a haunted house is smart? there's a murderer out there and you're taking off your clothes which is REALLY ill-advised. you could get tetanus! you seem to be under the impression that you're in a romcom or softcore porno, not a horror movie, and that's a lethal mistake to make.

bestie is literally dating a serial killer so yeah. checks out.

the asshole

it's not really clear why you have such a massively shitty personality, but for whatever reason, you make it your mission to get on everyone's bad side. everything out of your mouth seems to be perfectly engineered to piss everyone off and your every move is stupid as hell. Secretly, everyone is hoping you get shanked first.

this one surprised me at first but. I mean. she is hated by everyone and she's doing stupid shit all the time just to piss people off

the final girl

congrats, you're the one who makes it to the end. your instincts, paranoia, and/or pure fucking stubbornness guide you every bloody step of the way. when the dawn finally breaks, you're the last one left standing. sure, it cost you friends and loved ones and you're going to have one hell of a therapy bill, but at least you're alive.

she's the only one who makes it to the end but is it something to congratulate her for? hmm doubt

the tragic hero

you are the good guy who just cannot catch a break. your life just fucking sucks, frankly. one day, you have friends, family, hobbies you enjoy, maybe even a dog. and then, something happens that sets off this never-ending chain reaction of bullshit and it all gets swept away from you in a heartbeat. all your friends are dead now and you might be alive but god at what cost.

the first two sentences are already enough to describe her life. she really is the cleaning lady of hc

#oc: yuna neuer #oc: zoiya #oc: shireen oqir #oc: laurie devin #tag game #haven't done one of these in a while #i am hissing at some of these questions but the results are nice regardless #sad that no one got the killer result tho

[miniimapp]

jealousy hcs for 4town⭐️?

pls and thank uu

Gen ;; Kinda-Angst-if-You-Squint-Hard-Enough+ Fluff - Headcanons

Warnings ;; Jealousy (it's insanely mild lmao)

Proofread + Edited ;; falalala

Auth. Note ;; Only took me like 12 decades to finish this.. my bad.

As I said in my A-Z headcanons for each member I don't think they get jealous easily as they trust their partner but emotions happen sometimes yk

For each of these the context is they just came back from a world tour without you and want to spend time catching up,, hcs will differ from here

Enjoy !! <3

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈«

Aaron T - Koala Mode Activated

Ordinarily T doesn't feel jealous

His biggest competitor for your attention would probably be the internet, or cute animals, or cute animals on the internet, so he's never felt that threatened

Every now and again though ??

Something just makes his hair stand on end

T doesn't like feeling jealous in any capacity

So how does he deal with it ??

By literally smothering himself in your love

No actually though

You though he was clingy before ??

Mans is a whole ass koala from here on out

You are the tree

This is your life now

Welcome and get used to it

T had only recently gotten back from the band's biggest tour yet

Amazing experience, 10/10 he assures you, but what he really wants now is to relax with you until you both become a part of the furniture

It's a little bit hard to do that when you're at a friends house and he's at home

T's happy that you're having a good time but not now when you're supposed to be relaxing in your pajamas, watching shitty horror movies with him

Does he feel like a bit of an asshole ?? Yeah.. but he misses you..

And well,, he'd hoped you'd missed him too..

So when you text him asking him to come pick you up ?? Mans is breaking that speed limit like its a god damn challenge

Ain't no such worry as tickets when hugs are on the line,, yknow ??

The moment, and I meant the moment, T sees you ??

Octopus

Immediately

You know those mukbang videos with the live squid (poor babies TT^TT) ??

They're actually doing and impression of T,, not the other way around

The more you know..

So whether its slight, harmless jealously or T's genuinely upset ??

Octopus

Ain't no way anyone can even try it on you if T's wrapped around you like a second skin..

Jesse - Height Has Its Advantages

Look man,, Jesse's tall as shit there ain't no way he doesn't use that fully to his advantage

Like,, you're just living life, getting flirted with like the mega chad you are or whateva

Suddenly there's this huge shadow over your shoulder and your conversation partner has suddenly decided to take up running..

Weird..

If you look over to Jesse he'll start with the innocent whistling act whilst refusing to look at you

Look man,, when you have legs long enough that people confuse them for stilts why tf wouldn't you use them for intimidation purposes ??

I mean,, it's just friendly flirting

At least to you it is,, and Jesse knows that

Hey,, he partakes in a fair bit of it himself so that not the issue

No,, it's the other person taking it seriously

And Jesse isn't about to scrap some rando behind some building

But he will become the very essence of the standing man emoji

That's his only line of defence

Kinda pathetic ngl because if the subject of intimidation is ready to throw hands.. well.. Jesse's fucked

But most of the time, if not all, the height scares those serious flirters away

Mans is literally giving spooky stilts lmaoo

Like spooky spoon but spooky stilts.. don't think anyone will get that but I think it's funny lmao

Anyways but like he'll literally watch you watch the flirter run away with their tail between their legs and then just give the silliest "Are you feeling wooed ??" type look

Dumbass

Aaron Z - It's Home Time

Z's a simple man

He's also a tired,, he just got back from a tour..

There's just literally no need to play mental gymnastics

The quickest way to get from point A to point B is a straight ass line so why tf would he go in a circle,, ya feel ??

Talking around things is tiring and ends in arguments that lead nowhere

What's the point,, yknow ??

If Z's not feeling it,, he's gonna tell you

You guys are out on a low-key date type thing

And since Z feels too jetlagged to function, you've organised it just to his tastes

A small tea shop where you two can just talk and relax

It's literally perfect

If only the waiter would stop staring you down like a carnival prize they really want to win

Yeah,, Z isn't a fan of that look

He especially isn't a fan of when the waiter takes it upon himself to hand you their number alongside your drink

Mans has seen good customer service..

This shit ain't it..

So Z taps the table to get your attentions and simply asks to leave

Simple

Once you agree,, Z goes up to pay and you both skedaddle on out of there

But not before Z sneaks in a small, teeny tiny complaint about the work ethic of some the staff

After all, he'd never want such a fine establishment to gain a reputation

It's all for the good of the company

And if Z sticks his tongue at them as you both leave, well there's certainly no evidence

Robaire - Smiling on the Outside, Plotting a Murder On the Inside

The definition of unsubtle, yknow ??

Like,, Robaire will just flirt with you until the cause of his jealousy just disappears

Pet names,, light touches,, complete eye contact with you to the point of ignoring everyone and everything else

That's the strategy

And if that ain't working ??

Prepare to be wooed,, he's coming in hot,, okay ??

You thought he was flirting before ?? Man is flirting aggressively now lmao

No,, literally prepare yourself, you're not ready

Robaire isn't playing games,, he will proceed to make out with you right here, right now if that is what it comes to

Ro just wanted some down time with you after touring for however long

And he refuses to let your unbearably clingy friend ruin your time together

He will, however, ruin their time with you

Hey man,, he's the partner,, he has right of way lmao

Ro's simply not vibing with the way your friend is clutching onto your arm

Almost as if they've been away on a world tour for lord knows how many months

Huh...

Funny that..

So I mean,, if you don't mind getting attacked with affection Ro's definitely your guy lmao

Mans thinks he's slick too..

Comes over and just aggressively flirts with you, all the while he's sending death glares at his nemesis

Please be advised that Ro is currently going through Google maps in his mind to figure out the perfect place to hide the body

He's so silly goofy like that

Tae Young - Aggressively Passive

Tae is the type of make fun of stereotypically jealous people and mock them then immediately get all sulky the moment their partner interacts with someone else

It's a glorious thing to witness every single time

Truly

Literally Tae will laugh at some dude trying to intimidate other guys but will turn the puppy eyes on you as soon as your attention is elsewhere

And to the stealer of your attention ??

Only the pettiest of exchanges are deserved

Tae will go out of his way to make them uncomfortable around him

He will put on the sweetest, most upbeat persona and proceed to shit on and backhand compliment this poor person with the biggest smile on his face

You'd feel bad if it wasn't kinda funny to witness lmao

And it is !!

It's really funny to just watch people get overwhelmed with the mixed signals that are Tae

Yknow ??

Like,, the sweet persona is so good that people believe that he's being super nice until they actually listen to the words falling from his lips

AND THIS CAN TAKE SO LONG

People have had full ass conversations, finished them and only realised laying in bed at home that Tae was fucking with them

IT'S SO GOOD

Definitely feels super proud of himself after every encounter

Like,, fuck yeah he just showed them who's boss

He did not, in fact, show them who's boss - they think he's the sweetest thing since apple strudel

Oh well, at least they're not stealing you away anymore 🤷‍♀️

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Hope you enjoyed !! <3

#4town headcanons #4town #4town x reader #4town jesse #4town jesse x reader #4town aaron t #4town aaron t x reader #4town aaron z #4town aaron z x reader #4town robaire #4town robaire x reader #4town tae young #4town tae young x reader #turning red 4town #turning red

[simonalkenmayer]

Got any Jack Parsons stories? He seems to be a strange spectre that has been in my orbit quite frequently recently.

Thank you

P.s. you never finished your Casper story on Patreon. Just curious if you're going to do the next part?

Yes. I’m constructing a recording area currently. As for Parsons…I have and never shall associate with Thelemites. I barely made allowances for spiritualists. Pack of hoaxsters. All for ego and gain. No actual substance to it. Paranormal things exist. Reality is bigger than human perception…which is why it’s hilarious when you think natural phenomenon are dead souls outside their biological substrate, floating around making mischief. That’s not how it works. Yet not a single person wants to hear what is actually happening. I tell them. They argue.

They want the dead people to still exist. Or demons to value them enough to stalk them. They want specialness, not the truth.

The electrochemical signals that make you do not survive in their form, when removed from the biological substrate. Better said, electricity outside of its wires, is just random lightning. No form. Certainly not a form that replicates consciousness.

No such thing as ghosts.

Or divinity. Or any kind of order we can currently discern. Or spirits. Or demons. Or any of that.

But again, watch me take flack for saying so. Assail me. You’ll find me impervious to rhetorical shrapnel. Why? Because I can see what’s actually happening and as has been shown by history…humans will think airplanes are gods, or sicknesses are demons, or anytime things don’t go their way…it’s a conspiracy of universal proportions.

And what annoys me most about that whole movement, is how it all tracks back to an antisemitic prick who did nothing for the world but resurrect the mystique that once seemingly surrounded the mind of annoying white men who just want sex.

It’s all an excuse for orgies. That’s why it always ends in orgies.

A word of advice: if your leader gets anything out of being a leader other than the honor and duty of leading and an ability to live…they’re not a leader. They’re a con artist. This includes sex, worship, power or control, decision making authority, money, land, service, listening to their crap music, reading their shitty science fiction garbage, etc.

Apologies…I digress.

Parsons was a very smart fool. He knew how science worked and he ignored it for his own ego. I knew a man who worked with him during the war. He also wasn’t impressed with the man’s personality. I wager I’d take the same perspective since I knew that man’s mind rather well. I reckon I’d have found him insufferable.

[tarabyte3]

The Devil Makes Us Sin

Fandom: Luther, Luther: The Fallen Sun

Pairing: David Robey/F!Reader

Chapter 2/? (9.9k words)

->start at chapter 1<-

AO3 Link

Summary: Your life isn't perfect, and you don't enjoy moonlighting as a camgirl for so many repulsive men, but you need the money and it's yours. You're getting by just fine. You're content.

At least you thought you were. Then you get a strange text message. And you aren't sure if you're horrified or intrigued.

Warnings: Explicit rating, smut, stalking, spying, blackmail, manipulation, dubcon, dubious consent, Dom/sub, sadism, masochism, unprotected sex, oral sex, masturbation, mutual masturbation, choking, dirty talk, praise, humiliation, possessive love, yandere, minor description of gore, minor description of violence, murder, discussion of murder, shame involving sex work, light shaming of sex work, emotionally abusive mother, troubled mother/daughter relationship, fear of abandonment

A/N: I am having more fun than I probably should be writing this fic. New minor warning in the tags, but note that the troubled mother/daughter relationship and emotionally abusive mother tags are more prominent in this chapter!

Work title is from "Paradise Circus" by Massive Attack. Chapter title is from "Go to the Limits of Your Longing" by Rainer Maria Rilke. Text divider 1 is from William Blake's Pity. Text divider 2 is from Hans Melming's Earthly Vanity and Divine Salvation. Collage quote is from NBC's Hannibal (2013).

Chapter 2 - Let everything happen to you: Beauty and terror

You spend the rest of the day, and the next day after calling into work, pacing a circle in your living room and thinking about all the things he said to you—about you.

First and foremost: What would you do if you quit and ran?

Move? Get another office job?

No. Absolutely not. That's what the shitty voice in your head that sounds like your mother says you should do. But what do you want to do?

You can't remember the last time you really wanted anything. God, have you really become so miserable? You hadn't even noticed. You thought you were fine. Maybe your life hasn't turned out the way you'd expected, but it isn't horrible and you get by. Now, standing on the outside of yourself and looking in, you realize the only real joy you've had in years is insulting men on the internet. While you sit in your panties.

So what do you want?

You wanted to go to art school when you were younger, but your mother had put an end to that dream when you told her.

"Very few artists ever make it big or earn a living for themselves," she'd said, "and you aren't talented enough to be one of them."

So you'd gotten a business degree at university instead and hated every moment of it. For a salary that isn't even that impressive, especially for living in London. All so you could work for entitled, boring men that make inappropriate comments, take passes at all the women, and never face any consequences for it because it's a good ol' boys' club. Bunch of pricks. You hope that place burns. In fact, you're going to walk in and quit tomorrow. And it's going to feel so fucking good.

Unfortunately, you also stopped painting. After your own mother's repeated dismissal of your eighteen-year-old self's dreams and passion, whenever you picked up a paintbrush or a pencil, you felt horrible. Nothing you painted felt right again. Your confidence was gone. That spark. So now you don't even own any art supplies. You don't like the reminder.

You do still go to art museums and galleries and shows in the city, though. Walking through them as a child is what made you fall in love with it in the first place. She may have taken away your desire to create any yourself, but she could never destroy that love, try as she may. 

Art has always been something you've connected with better than you ever have with people. It's effortless. Even parsing through the depths of the most complex and visually abstract piece is less complicated than trying to navigate personal relationships. Because art asks nothing more of you than what you are willing to give.

Maybe you could try painting again for fun. The second bedroom could be a studio now that you no longer need it for filming. And you could get a job at a gallery because that, at least, would be something you enjoy, and you wouldn't have to worry as much about the pay. Or—

You could go to art school.

The thought makes you stop pacing.

Loads of people go back to school later in life nowadays. Especially for the arts because, after years of experience out in the world, they realize they want to follow their dreams instead. You wouldn't even have to be successful, but you could be happy.

For once in your goddamned life, you could be fucking happy.

Because of him.

You go back to pacing.

Is that what he meant when he said he could offer you more than just money? He could give you the opportunity to finally live—though that circles back around to the money, too. It creates the opportunity, after all.

Except you know it was more than that. He was offering you the opportunity to be seen. Something you don't have because there's no one that knows the real you. Not really. They would think you were horrible. You know from experience.

Sometimes you think you're horrible.

But he saw you. Maybe not all of you, but a surprising amount from such a small glimpse. What would he see if he could look deeper?

Would he still want to look? Or would he eventually be repulsed, too?

You go to stand in front of your laptop, which you keep powered down and closed now. You also unplugged your webcam, closed your blinds, and put little pieces of tape over both of your phone's cameras because you're convinced that's how he knew every time you were ready to block him. He was watching.

You don't think it can stop him from finding some way to keep tabs on you, but it'll slow him down. You wonder if that will amuse him or annoy him. Probably amuse him.

And why the fuck do you care? Why are you thinking about him at all? You don't even know who he is. Plus, he blackmailed and threatened you, for fuck's sake! You should be phoning the police! At the very least, you should never think about him again.

But you do. You think about him a lot. Because he could be almost anyone behind that anonymity, and the mystery and possibility are…interesting.

He clearly has money. He's smart and irritatingly perceptive. 'Don't forget he has a talent with technology apparently,' you think wryly—which is a massive understatement. He has to be some kind of tech guy, right? Who else can hack into all of your personal devices, track down phone numbers and addresses, uncover your passwords—which you've now changed as well, and poke around your bank records? So through the most basic deduction, you know that much at least.

But is he attractive? Funny? How old is he? Does he have hobbies that aren't stalking you? And can he carry on a conversation when he isn't hiding behind a screen? God, if he turned out to be just like other men and you had to listen to him prattle on, you might give up and join a convent for the vow of celibacy alone.

And, though you shouldn't even be having this thought, you can't help but wonder if he's good in bed. Would he get you off, or does he last thirty seconds and then roll over and fall asleep? You think that's a fair thing to be particular about. You're not about to waste your time only to never have an orgasm. You've done that plenty of times in your life already.

You should be worried that he's a serial killer and you're his next victim or that he's planning to keep you chained up in his basement or sell your organs on the black market. But if he wanted to do that, you'd already be dead because he's been watching you for months and you hadn't a clue. He's had plenty of opportunities.

Unless this is part of a game. 

You could always find out. He told you the link would stay active. You aren't sure if you want to click on it again, but you don't not want to.

No. It's too soon. Before you make any decisions, you should get your affairs in order because you have a former life to wrap up first. And you should give yourself time to process. To work through the fear, the anger, the curiosity, and, most of all, why it aroused you. Not just physically, you acknowledge, but mentally as well. There was something in your verbal sparring that appealed to you as much as it appealed to him. 

You want to know why. You want to understand the part of yourself that feels almost neglected now. Withered from disuse—from hiding behind the lie, as he might put it. And you can't face him again until you do because going back to him with your eyes wide open feels important. There can be no half measures.

What if you dive in and realize you've made a terrible mistake? That seems far more complicated than just walking away now while you have the chance. So if you click that link again, you want to be sure.

Then why do you keep finding yourself standing in your spare room and staring at your computer?

You close your camgirl account without any warning or final stream. Once you realize you never have to do it again, the thought of doing it even one last time is nauseating. There aren't many hoops to jump through, which surprises you. And hitting that confirmation button feels so amazing, you almost text the mystery number to say thank you. Almost.

Unfortunately, the month isn't even half over yet so you're immediately flooded with refund requests. They paid for a full month, after all. You roll your eyes as your phone starts vibrating with email notifications. Too bad for them that you read through the terms and service and know the website's refund policy. So you take one last pleasure in hitting decline on every single one.

You also quit your day job.

You walk in two days after your experience with the mystery man—late, holding a takeout coffee, and wearing jeans and sunglasses—and hand your notice to your boss. He uncomfortably asks why you're leaving the company, and you smile and tell him you found a different opportunity. When he asks where, you take more pleasure in declining to answer and taking a noisy sip from your cup. 

You plan to spend the rest of your time there doing absolutely nothing except scrolling through your phone or looking up art schools on your work computer. Hopefully they'll tell you that you don't have to finish up your two weeks just to get you to leave. You could've simply walked out without giving them notice at all if you really wanted. But after a single day of watching your boss squirm as he tries to figure out how to handle you, you know you made the right decision.

Now you need to make a few more.

You also learn something about yourself. You learn the thing that's been missing and why you enjoyed being so openly cruel on camera. You have been hiding behind a lie.

More specifically, you've been denying a simple truth to them and to yourself: You're better than all of them, and you take extraordinary pleasure in reminding them.

It feels good to finally be yourself. To stop pretending to care about all of the bullshit you've never cared about. Office politics, your so-called friends' newest drama, news that someone is getting married or having children, the latest show people are watching, sports, the weather, or the endless updates about small changes in people's lives. God, last week your coworker got a new car and would not shut up about all of the features. Oh, does it connect to Bluetooth, Sharon? Can you make phone calls from your steering wheel? How fascinating, please tell me more about how difficult it was to choose between a slate grey or tan interior, I'm sure I still have some will to live tucked away that you haven't drained yet.

Up until now, you've made yourself small. Palatable. You pretended to be normal. To want some of the same things everyone else wants so you fit in because you could hear your mother's voice in your head saying, "What would people think?" You bit your tongue so you didn't tell them to please just shut up. So when you finally got the chance to be honest on stream, you relished it.

Because before you were afraid that if you gave in to your darker impulses, you would take it too far. That it would turn you into a monster. You realize now they're the ones that are afraid. They can't wait to tear a woman down. To insult her, call her names, or to degrade her in hopes that will allow them to keep power over her. You were only worried about becoming a monster because you were told it was monstrous to be yourself. To know what you want and to take it. Especially when it's something you shouldn't want in the first place. Something improper.

Well, you're finally starting to figure out exactly what you want.

That evening after work, you sit in front of your laptop.

You haven't opened it yet. You're just sitting there, contemplating doing so because you want to know how it feels to consider taking the next step. If even doing that feels wrong, then you have an answer. That would make your decision easy.

But it doesn't. You reach out to rest your hand on top of the lid and have to stop yourself from opening it. One step at a time. To be sure.

You do that several more times throughout the evening before giving up.

You wake the next morning almost two hours before your alarm—because you had planned on sleeping in since you no longer care if you're late for work—and head straight to the other room. You slept like shit. All night you tossed and turned and fought getting up to pace more circles or to stare at your computer. Because you wanted to see how it felt to go further.

You frantically wrench open your laptop, desperate to finally know, and then you're staring at the black screen. There are smudge marks and some dust visible on it in the morning light filtering through your window. They mar your reflection as it peers, manic and disheveled, back out at you.

It still doesn't feel wrong.

How far can you go before it does? You press the power button.

It takes forever to boot up. Or at least it seems as if it does because your computer isn't that old. You're reminded of how it felt the last time you did this. How your heart had pounded out of fear. It's pounding now, but out of anticipation and impatience. When the login screen finally pops up, you have to retype your password because you hit the keys too quickly and make a mistake.

The sight of your desktop is a relief first because at last you'll have more of an answer to sit with. Then you feel…nothing. Well, no, not nothing. Just an absence of the fear and revulsion you had been looking for. There is definitely something there—nameless and building in your stomach, and crawling its way into your chest.

You move the mouse pointer around the screen. Out of habit, you open Instagram. You manage to scroll for about thirty seconds before you sigh in disgust and take the steps to fully delete your account. Then you go through the rest of your social media and delete or deactivate all of those as well. There isn't a single thing on any of them you care about enough to save. It's freeing in a way you hadn't expected.

You find yourself moving to open your inbox before you finally tell yourself no, that's plenty far for now. You've pushed this enough for one go. Besides, it's six thirty in the morning. You don't even know if he's awake, and you still have work—as much as you don't care about that part. It puts an expiration on doing it now and you don't want to feel rushed.

Instead you get up, go take a long shower where you sing to yourself for the first time in years, and take your time getting ready. You're going to wear a low cut top and a high slit skirt today, which are against the dress code like the jeans were, just to really get under their skin.

You leave your computer on and open. You also plug your webcam back in. You know it's going to send a message, and you want him thinking about what that could be.

Day two of work is just as satisfying as day one. More so because so many of them are flustered by a bit of cleavage and thigh. As if they've never seen either before. You briefly imagine wearing a high collared Victorian dress and scandalously baring your ankle while they gasp and clutch at their chests.

They still don't say anything, but you catch your boss and a few of the other various managers watching you resentfully from across the open floor over the half walls of the cubicles—you didn't even have a full cubicle for an office. How depressing is that? You give them a little wave and a wink back, and it sends them scurrying off.

On your way home, you get a takeout because you think you've earned a curry, and you grab a beer from your fridge. Then you kick off your heels and flop onto the couch. You don't turn on the TV because there's nothing that will entertain you as much as reminiscing about the last few days.

Well. Almost nothing.

You set the half empty takeout container down on your coffee table, the distraction and enjoyment of it suddenly gone. Because now you're thinking about him and your laptop again. You know it's still turned on in the other room, not twenty feet from you. All you would have to do is go in there, open your email, and click the link. It would be that simple.

You made sure it was that simple this morning, you realize.

You get up from the couch, but instead of heading to the spare room, you go to the bathroom. Then you examine yourself in the mirror to make sure you don't have curry stains on your lips or chin. Your makeup is still fine because, well, you did basically nothing at work all day so there's no need to mess with it. Plus, if you have a fresh face of makeup, he'll know you touched it up beforehand. For him. And you can't have that.

You have your hair pinned up, though, so you take that down for something more casual and less office professional. You also undo the top button on your already low dipped blouse. If you move a certain way or lean forward too far, the cup of your bra is visible. It's a wine color that stands out against the champagne of your shirt. You hope it'll be enough of a distraction to throw him off, even for a moment.

Once you're satisfied with your appearance, you make your way to the bedroom. But before you sit down, you toss the annoying, frilly pillows off the bed and into the hallway—you have to resist tossing them out the window—and you throw the blanket on there instead. It looks less ridiculous that way and more like an actual bed someone might sleep in. It also helps you feel like you're truly moving on from that chapter of your life.

Finally, you're in front of your computer. You've been looking forward to this part all day because it's a crucial step. If you can do this and still be okay, you know you're ready.

It takes one click to pull up your inbox.

You pause and wait for some kind of revelation or sign, but none come. There's only the same eager curiosity you've been struck with the past few days. The familiar anticipation of knowing. You want to sit with it a minute, just in case it takes a bit to creep up on you. So you clear out the spam and gleefully deny a few more refund requests in your second account first to tidy everything up. Then, with nothing left to distract you and no more excuses to put it off, you open the email.

The address it was sent from is a random series of letters and numbers. You hadn't noticed that before, you only wanted to know what the message said. You wonder if it's even a real email address. Whether he took the time to make it, carefully crafting each step as he set the snare for his trap. And here you are, stepping right back into it—assuming you had escaped it at all.

The link stares back at you.

You hover over it, only to find that you're nervous. How can you be nervous? You weren't even nervous the first time. Scared and angry, yes, but not this. This is something else. But is it enough to stop?

Absolutely not.

What's wrong with you? Why are you second-guessing yourself now? You want this. At the very least, you want to know more. So why deny yourself? You said you were done doing that. No more letting other people's standards and expectations control you. You take what you want. Who cares why?

'Because he did see you, that's why,' your mind supplies before you can stop it. That flutter in your stomach returns. With a strange rush of confidence, and before you can second guess yourself again, you click the link.

When the site loads, you half expect him to already be there. But he isn't. So you sit there, alone in the chatroom, staring at your own face. After a few moments, you check—and recheck—your hair and makeup. Then you berate yourself for fretting. You're better than this, even though you know your appearance is one of the few weapons in your arsenal that you can use against him.

Eleven minutes pass. Each one feels longer than the last. You want to get up and pace some more to let off your nervous energy, but you don't want him to show up and see you panicking. It would start this whole thing off on the wrong foot. Namely, with you at a disadvantage.

Just when you start to think you've made a mistake and a complete fool of yourself because he's not going to even show up, that black square appears in the corner with an electronic chime.

You stare at it, wide-eyed.

You hadn't really thought past this part. You were too focused on simply preparing yourself to click the link. Now you aren't sure what to say. So you wait again, only to be accompanied by silence. The chat box sits empty.

He's waiting for you, you realize.

No. He's trying to force you to give in and speak first so he has the upper hand.

So, he likes to be in control, then. Makes sense, given how all of this started in the first place. Now the only question is how in control he likes to be. Because the thought isn't necessarily unappealing.

"Hello," you finally say quietly.

I wasn't expecting you back so soon.

You can feel his smirk through the text. Oh right, he's infuriating. You scowl at your screen. "First message and you're already making me regret this."

Come now, I think I'm allowed to savor an I told you so, given the circumstances.

"Yep, this was a mistake." You move to grab your mouse and close the window.

I can make it up to you.

That makes you stop.

"And how are you going to do that?" You ask with suspicion.

Ask me a question.

"Any question?" You lean forward and rest your folded arms on the desk, intrigued and not bothering to hide it. That's why you're here, after all. To learn more about him. You can see your bra peeking out on the screen, and you hope now he's feeling something other than smug.

Within reason.

"Aha, there's the catch. Can't have me getting too clever, can you?" You tap your finger on the edge of your keyboard as you consider what you want to ask. You know he won't do something like turn on his camera or show you his face, and most of your other questions about him will require more trust first. So what will he give you?

"What's your name? It seems only fair I know that at the very least since you know so much about me."

Interesting question.

My name is David.

"David?" You repeat out loud, surprised.

Yes.

"Hmm. I wasn't expecting David."

What were you expecting?

"I don't know. Something unbearable like Reginald or Bertram. David is so…" You wave your hand in the air as you search for the word.

So what?

"Unassuming." You tilt your head. "Are you unassuming, David? Someone that everyone looks at, but no one ever sees?"

See, you are very clever.

"It's one of my better qualities, David."

I enjoy hearing my name on your lips.

"Oh, do you?" You cock an eyebrow.

If I were there with you, I would like to see what else I might enjoy from your lips.

You surprise yourself by blushing.

Clearly you might enjoy it, too.

"Is this how you think you're going to win me over? Saying filthy things to me? Because I can get back onto my stream for that." You try to sound unimpressed rather than flustered.

Not at all. Saying filthy things to you is just a bonus. Especially when you blush so nicely for me.

"You caught me off guard, that's all."

I'm sure. Not that I want to seem ungrateful, but why are you here?

"Well, my life didn't implode, which means you kept your word."

I did.

"Not that it would have mattered anyway because I quit both of my jobs, deleted all of my social media accounts, and, frankly, I realized I don't give a shit what my mother thinks." In a lower voice you add, "In fact, you might actually be doing me a favor there." 

Did it feel good?

"It really did." You want to groan and relish in it because you've never felt this free before. It was marvelous. You just don't want to do so in front of him.

I'm glad. Do you trust me now?

"Absolutely not," you laugh. "But I suppose I'm…"

I intrigue you.

"I wouldn't go that far, but you have my attention. Now I want to figure you out."

Not because of the money?

You bite the inside of your lip as you consider how to respond. "I thought about that a lot, actually. And the answer is no, not because of the money. If it had been a factor in my decision at all, I wouldn't be here."

So you're here to satisfy your curiosity.

"Among other things." You give the camera a heavy lidded glance.

Sounds promising.

Will you leave when you're satisfied?

"I suppose that depends on how satisfied I am." A coy grin tugs at the corner of your mouth.

Then maybe I shouldn't satisfy you at all.

"Oh no, you'll definitely want to avoid doing that. Or else I might get bored and leave anyway."

Ah. We can't have that, now, can we?

"No we cannot." Then you grimace and ask, "You don't talk about things like sports or politics by way of conversation, do you?"

No.

"No interest in keeping up with the lives of acquaintances or the royal family?"

No.

"Thank god," you sigh in relief. "I'm done politely listening to people blather on so that would have been a deal breaker."

Lucky for me, then.

You really have had an exciting few days. I must say, this new confidence suits you. You look lovely.

"Thank you." You let out a genuine smile. "I feel like I can breathe for the first time in…well, a while. I suppose I have you to thank for that."

You do, but I must admit it was not a selfless act. I wanted to see you like this and I am enjoying the fruits of my labor.

"Only like this?" You intend for it to sound teasing, but anticipation bleeds into your voice. 

For now.

Your heartbeat stutters in your chest. "Can I ask you more questions?"

Of course. As long as you understand I may not answer them yet.

"That's fine." You shrug. "What you choose not to answer will be telling enough."

Very clever girl.

"Okay, next question," you blurt out to avoid blushing again, only to realize you didn't have a question ready. So you ask the first thing that comes to mind. "Are you rich?"

Yes.

"Yeah, that one seemed fairly obvious." You glance up at the camera. "How rich?"

I thought you weren't here because of the money.

"I'm not! I'm simply curious. And just because I don't care about it doesn't mean it's not a part of who you are."

Be honest. You're a little bit interested in the money.

"Fine," you say begrudgingly. "It's on the list of perks, but it's at the end. It wasn't a factor in why I'm here, and it won't affect how this turns out. How's that?"

Better. You know I enjoy your honesty.

So what's at the top of the list?

"Well, it was whether or not you would eventually bore me to death, but that doesn't seem to be a pressing concern."

I'll take that as a compliment.

What about now?

"I suppose now it's figuring out what you look like. Though I should be asking whether or not you're a dangerous man since you stalked and blackmailed me."

Now there's a question.

Well, go on. Ask me.

"Alright," you laugh. "Are you a dangerous man, David?"

Yes.

You blink in surprise because you weren't expecting him to just say yes. "How so?"

Where's the fun in that? I thought you were going to figure me out.

"It was worth a shot," you mumble to yourself. You adjust in your seat as you think of how to rephrase the question. "Are you dangerous to me?"

There's no response for several, very long, concerning seconds.

Would you like me to be?

You blush again, your face growing warm as it creeps over your cheeks. "I can't answer that."

Why not?

"Because I don't know what dangerous means."

Then I guess you'll have to find that out, too, won't you?

"It might be a little difficult when you're just text on a screen."

I don't have to be.

"Does that mean you'll turn your camera on?" You perk up in your chair.

No.

"What about your microphone?" You add hopefully.

Not yet.

You sag back into your chair, disappointed, but not surprised. "Then we continue to be at an impasse, don't we, David?"

You're still saying my name.

"I'm getting used to it. Would you like me to stop?"

No.

You lean in towards the camera, pouting your lips, and let your eyelids go heavy as you stare into the lense. "Is it getting you hard, David?"

Don't do that.

"Do what?" You ask innocently.

Talk to me like I'm just some man watching your stream.

"I thought you might like it."

I don't. I only want to hear those things when you mean it.

"How do you know I don't mean it now?" You flutter your eyelashes.

Remember, I can hear the difference.

"Fine," you sigh, your expression and body language immediately returning to normal. "Then I don't know what else to do here."

Ask me another question.

"Alright." You tap your chin in thought. You know you need to regain some power here because so far you've been doing more reacting to him than you intended. How can you throw him off balance? "Have you ever touched yourself while watching any of my streams?"

No.

"I find that surprising," you say with a hint of skepticism.

Why's that?

"Because you went to all this trouble of stalking me and blackmailing me. I assumed that meant you really enjoyed my streams."

I did enjoy your streams.

"But not in the way most men do." The disbelief is still evident in your voice.

It wouldn't have been to you, would it have? It would have been to the lie and, therefore, not particularly satisfying.

"True. But I thought you saw me anyway."

Seeing past it and seeing you without your mask are two very different things.

"Okay. So you don't get off to me."

I didn't say that.

"Oh," you breathe out. As if this is a shock to you. But as he said, suspecting and seeing him confirm it are two very different things. "What do you think about when you do?" You purr as you lean in close again, suddenly very interested in his answer.

Do you really want to know?

"I'm curious, remember?"

I think about you when you were angry and begging.

You lick your lips before you can stop yourself.

Only on your knees for me.

Then you swallow hard. Because that paints a descriptive picture of what he likes. You can see it clearly, and you would be lying if you said there wasn't a responding swell of dampness in your panties at the thought of it.

"Are you touching yourself right now?"

Would you like me to be?

Would you? Is that something you want? Because it occurs to you that you could have it if you want it. You could have him sliding his fist around his erection and moaning for you if you so choose.

"Not really." You give a dismissive shrug, both for him and yourself. And it's not a lie. The thought is appealing and you think it's something you want eventually. But you aren't ready for it yet. Not until you know more about him first. After all, he could be anyone behind that screen. It's both a blessing and a curse. "I don't think you would anyway. Not yet."

Why not?

"Because if you did all of this just for a wank, that would be so very boring. And you aren't that, are you?"

No. I'm not.

But you had to think about it.

"I did," you admit. "When I don't have to think about it first, then I'll give you your show. And my answer will be much different."

I look forward to stripping you of your hesitation.

You notice the word play and give the camera a quick, amused smirk. "You'll be wanting to answer more questions for me then."

Ask.

"Speaking of shows. Do you make a habit of watching cam girls?"

No.

"So just occasionally, then?"

No.

You stare at his responses in confusion. "How did you find me if you weren't scrolling through the website?"

Call it luck.

"They used me in an ad, didn't they?" You scowl.

If I said yes, would that satisfy your curiosity?

"You know it wouldn't."

Then we'll stick with luck.

"Infuriating," you huff. "Will you at least tell me eventually?"

Someday. But not today.

"Alright," you relent. "Because I'll be honest, I really am terribly curious. And I want to know what it was that gave me away."

That second part I can answer.

The first stream I saw, you told your audience that they were lucky to even see you on camera because in person you would never give any of them the time of day. Then you took a deep breath. To everyone else it may have seemed like you were gasping in horror at your own words, but I saw the shudder. The roll of your shoulders. The pleasure. You weren't horrified, you were delighted. That was the moment you had my attention.

You remember that stream. You remember the exact feeling he's describing. How you fought to seem contrite afterwards and arched your breasts towards the camera in hopes no one noticed.

But he noticed. He was there.

"And what was the moment you decided you wanted me?" You whisper, unsure whether your microphone even picked it up.

When you did the same thing the next night.

I thought you were very attractive, of course, but you were never more attractive than in that moment of truth. I wanted more of it.

So I looked.

"You didn't just look. You watched me," you say accusingly.

I did.

"When I was vulnerable and didn't know I was being watched."

Yes.

"Doesn't that make you feel…bad?" You finish lamely. "Or guilty? Even a little?"

Do YOU feel bad now knowing that I did?

"I…" You trail off. You did feel awful in the beginning. It made you sick with fear. How could it not? But now? After the last few days—after talking to him—do you still feel bad? "I'm not sure."

Because I don't.

"You should."

And you should probably still be angry and afraid, yet here we are.

Annoyingly, he has a point there. So both of you are a little fucked up then.

"I have another question." You consider the camera. "Why didn't you just approach me or hit on me in the usual way? Why blackmail me to get my attention?"

You've already said yourself that you find the usual things boring.

"I didn't mean stalking!"

Didn't you? You like the attention, even if you only learned about it afterwards.

'He's right again,' you think. You do like knowing that he was looking. That you've finally been seen by someone that likes what they see. Someone that understands. Which also gives you the answer to his earlier question: You don't feel bad about it, either. Not anymore.

God, so maybe more than a little fucked up.

"Okay, maybe I do. But I think this is more than that. Perhaps you feel confident through the screen in a way you aren't in person."

That's a good guess.

"Am I right?"

No. I simply enjoyed doing it this way and watching you squirm.

"Asshole," you mutter. "It had a very high potential to blow up in your face."

I disagree.

"What if I didn't watch that video of myself? What if I'd just blocked you?"

I would have sent it from a different number with additional threats.

"And if I still refused? Would you have gone through with it?"

I knew I wouldn't have to.

"That," you cross your arms, "is not an answer."

And yet it's my answer. I knew you wouldn't deny me.

You scoff in disbelief. "Are you unaccustomed to hearing the word no?"

People say no to me all the time.

"You really don't like it, though, do you?"

No. Do you?

"Of course not," you laugh. And you're surprised to hear that it's genuine rather than sarcastic.

I can't imagine people telling you no very often.

You laugh a little harder. "You need a better imagination, then."

Even men?

"Well," the laughter trails off and you glance down at your desk, "I'd have to ask something of them first. I don't often. It's usually not worth it." You look back up. "You've told me no several times already."

For now.

There's a flush of heat in your belly that works its way between your legs and up to your neck. How does he keep doing that? No face. No voice. Yet somehow you keep ending up moments away from rubbing yourself against the seat of your chair.

"What about you? Do women tell you no, or are you so rich and handsome that they throw themselves at you?" You tease.

You wait, but there's no answer and you start to regret the question. You wonder if he's self-conscious about his looks and that's another reason he's doing this, or if you were right about his confidence when he isn't behind a screen.

"You don't have to answer that." You straighten up and your expression turns apologetic. "It was a clumsy attempt at flirting and to learn more about you."

No, they don't.

"Oh." You fidget uncomfortably for a moment. "If I'm being honest, that's actually a relief."

Why a relief?

"Because the type of men that would say yes to that question are usually intolerable. Besides," you shrug, "there are other important qualities to have that aren't looks. Like being intriguing, for example."

I can hear when you're lying.

"How am I lying?"

Looks are important to you.

"Of course they are. I never said they weren't! Only that there is more to attraction than just looks."

Would you still consider me if I were unattractive?

"Well." You stop to think about your response. You know you have to choose your words carefully in case this is a sensitive topic. "I can't promise anything because I don't know what you look like, but I will say if good looks were all I cared about, I would have an actual dating life."

I believe you.

"Does that mean you don't think you're attractive?" You tentatively ask.

Oh, I never said that. I just said women don't throw themselves at me. I'm far too busy.

"You…" You snap your mouth shut in anger. He was fucking with you. To see how you would react, and you actually felt bad for a moment! "God, you're infuriating."

You like it.

You do. There's a slick heat inside of your underwear that betrays exactly how much you like it.

"And you seem to be trying awfully hard to find the limit of that statement." You scowl.

I happen to like pressing your buttons.

"I noticed." You give a small, irritated huff through your nose. "You know, I also can't help but notice I've been doing most of the talking here. It's your turn to ask me a question."

That seems like fair retaliation.

There's a brief pause while he, presumably, thinks of something to ask you.

What was the source of your hesitation earlier? When I asked if you wanted me to touch myself.

"I want to know more about you first," you answer matter of factly.

Why?

"For several reasons. It's a very vulnerable position for me to be in since you can see me and I can't see you, so I want to trust you before this turns into that."

What are the other reasons?

"The more I get to know you, the more interested I might be. And the more interested I am, the more I'll want to take my clothes off. Just for you. Doesn't that sound so much better than a halfhearted strip tease?" You give the camera your best enticing look. "I think it does."

I agree. It does.

"Besides, didn't you promise me that you would make me want to touch myself for you? So make me, David. Give me more to work with."

You should be careful with what you say. Or you may accidentally ask for something you haven't thought through.

You blush and shift in your chair. "How do you know I'm not completely aware of what I'm asking?"

Because you wouldn't ask me to make you if you were.

You have to bite your lip to stop a whimper that nearly makes its way out of your mouth. You also have to fight back your initial instinct of looking into the camera and repeating, 'Make me, David.' You know that's pushing it, though. For now. But god, do you want to.

"Point taken," you force out through the tension. "Why do you ask, anyway?"

I wanted to know how I can remove that hesitation. Now I know.

"Eager, are we?" You tease.

Yes.

Can you blame me? The thing I'm impatient for is you.

"God, David," you gasp. "I think it's you that needs to be careful with what you're saying."

I know what I'm saying. But for your sake I will.

"Thank you," you exhale in relief. Your control and conviction can only take so much, and your grasp on them is weakening. And he knows it.

Does it bother you that I want you?

"Not really. A lot of men want me."

No they don't. They want your body. I want you.

"I still don't understand why."

I see something in you that mirrors something in me.

"You see yourself in me, do you?" You give the camera a teasing, seductive smile.

You're very good at that.

"At what?" You ask innocently.

Using flirtation as a means of misdirection when you're uncomfortable.

"How am I uncomfortable?"

Because you want to know what I see and that scares you.

"You think you could tell me truths about myself that I don't already know?" You raise an eyebrow.

No, it's not that.

"What would scare me then?"

That you want to hear it from me.

You mentally shake off the immediate denial because you know he's right. You want to know exactly what he sees. You want to hear your own truths from him because it's thrilling. And because if he knows and he's still here…

"Fine. Maybe I do because I'm curious just how much you really see."

I've seen quite a lot.

"Try me," you challenge.

Do you have many friends?

You frown and glance down at the top of your desk. "Not many."

Why not?

"Because...I find it difficult to get along with most people, I suppose. What does this have to do with anything?"

I'm getting there.

Would you like to know why you don't?

"This should be good." You lean back in your chair. "Go on."

You've always felt different, and it makes connecting with other people almost impossible. You try, of course, because you get lonely. Humans are social creatures, after all. Either you feel nothing towards them and they annoy you, or they keep you at arm's length once they start to see the real you.

How old were you when you started faking it, I wonder? When you realized they don't like who you are when you aren't wearing the mask. I bet you were young when you learned to never take it off. That's why you found it so easy to lie on camera and why you were so good at what you were doing. You've been doing it most of your life.

You sit with that for a moment.

You expect it to hurt because, objectively, what he said should be painful and it is lonely. But you're already fully aware of the truth, and you know he wasn't just saying it to be cruel. You asked. That's like being upset with a mirror for showing you your reflection.

Though you suspect he still hoped you would squirm when faced with it because he likes making you squirm.

"I found it easy to lie to those men because I don't care about them or their feelings." You sneer at the thought. "They were a means to an end. And I can't connect with people because I find the things they care about to be mind numbingly dull. Unfortunately that usually means themselves."

And in the beginning you said you weren't that interesting.

"Is that how you feel then?" Your voice softens. "Lonely."

Yes.

"I guess we're both in excellent company." You mean for your accompanying smile to be lighthearted, but you can tell that it doesn't meet your eyes, and a hint of your own loneliness weighs down the corners of your mouth.

I certainly think so.

Do you want to know what else I see?

"Yes," you reply without hesitation.

It's not just that those men were on the other end of the camera, is it? Or that they're men. You've always felt a deep disgust for everyone around you, and the camera gave you an outlet. The money may have been the reason you started, but that was the reason you kept going.

You raise your eyebrows, impressed. "Interesting. And devastatingly accurate, as usual. But do you want to know a secret?" You lean in close and stage whisper, "I already figured all of this out."

Did you now?

"I did." You give the camera a smug smile and lean back in your chair. "I've been doing some self reflection since our last chat. Couldn't have you catching me off guard all the time."

Clearly.

"Now, that doesn't mean I don't want to read what you have to say. I still like knowing just how much you see."

I'll keep that in mind.

Did you figure anything else out about yourself? Because if you did, I want to hear it.

"I figured out that I've been denying myself the things that I want because I felt bad for wanting them. And the only reason I felt bad is because I was told I should."

And what is it that you want?

"Well, that's the question, isn't it? I'm still attempting to work that out." Then in a lower tone, "But it's becoming clearer to me."

I would offer my assistance, but you seem to be doing a wonderful job of peeling off those layers on your own.

But I also wouldn't object to helping you take them off if you asked me to.

"Are you serious?" You give your camera an astonished look. "I'm merely unraveling the thread you pulled, David. None of this was possible without you. You've helped me finally see myself so clearly that at first I was worried I only wanted to come back here because, between that and the money, I felt like I owed you something. But now I realize it's because I want you to keep pulling. I want to see what's underneath. What I've been denied—what I've been denying this whole time. And maybe…" You trail off, suddenly unsure because you almost let slip something vulnerable that still scares you.

If he saw you, would he still want to look? Or would he upend your life only to leave when you became too much? 

Maybe what? Don't stop now. I want to hear what you were about to say. And I want to hear the truth.

You take a deep breath in hopes that, in doing so, you'll find your courage.

You don't, but it's too late anyway. You've shown him a seam that's still neatly stitched. You can't pretend now that it was nothing because he'll latch onto it, and you can't lie to him because he'll know. As scary as it is, all you have is the truth. And he asked for it.

"Maybe for once someone won't be repulsed by what's there." Your voice sounds so weak. You hate feeling this exposed. Leaving yourself open like this is just an invitation for someone to hurt you—actually hurt you, like slipping a knife into a gap in your armor. Now you may as well be handing him the knife, too. But you push past that panic and fear, and hold tight to the truth. "Maybe…maybe I've been hoping you won't be."

You're practically fidgeting in your chair with anxiety as you wait to see if he draws blood with his response or plunges said metaphorical knife between your ribs. And to your surprise, his response comes rather quickly.

Do you think I would be here if I'd seen anything in you that came close to repulsing me? It's your disguise that I find repulsive. It's that you had to wear it at all that repulses me. I am restraining myself from tearing it off of you. I've only ever wanted to see more.

Repulsed?

How could I find such a perfect creature repulsive?

Oh.

"David," you whisper, your voice thick with emotion. "God, I…I don't know what to say."

Your heart is pounding against the walls of your ribcage, but no longer in fear. Not even in arousal. It's relief. Gratitude. Thrill. Anticipation. The desire to hear more of anything he has to tell you gnaws at your belly. You're starving for it.

That you even believe a single thing about yourself could be repulsive only strengthens my conviction that the world is full of monsters that hide behind their civility and their self-righteousness. They tell themselves they're better than us when the only difference is we're honest.

"But I haven't been honest, have I? Not always."

You are now.

"I'm trying to be," you correct him.

You've wanted to be this whole time. Do you think you would have embraced so many truths about yourself so quickly if you hadn't?

"That's a fair point." You lit a flame under your entire life with only the slightest encouragement from a complete stranger that was blackmailing you. To say that you've yearned to be free of it—to be yourself—would be an understatement. Now that fire is spreading and you don't even care enough to watch it burn. Not when you can look to him instead. "I have wanted it, I just never realized I did. Until you."

See? The money never mattered. It was just a means to an end, too. This was always my gift to you.

You let out a breathy, incredulous laugh. "Who are you, David?"

What happened to wanting to figure me out?

"That's still the plan, but I realize now I may have bitten off more than I can chew."

Don't worry, I won't let you choke.

Unless you want to.

You don't stop the pained moan that comes out of your mouth as you're tossed from feeling something approaching tender straight back into arousal. "My god, I'm getting whiplash," you mumble to yourself.

He doesn't say anything and you don't expect him to. His silence betrays how smug he's currently feeling just fine.

There's a moment of quiet then, and you glance around the room, willing yourself to calm down so your mind isn't trying to drag you in two directions at once. As you do so, your eyes catch the clock on the wall. You quickly do a double take and then look at your computer to confirm the time is correct. Because you're surprised to discover nearly an hour and a half has passed. It felt like ten minutes.

"My god. Is it really past seven?"

It is.

"I can't recall ever having a conversation where time just flew by. Usually it drags and I can't escape fast enough." You shake your head. "You know, being around people has always been exhausting and I couldn't figure out why. It's because wearing the mask is exhausting, isn't it? I was dedicating so much effort to not letting it slip and I didn't even realize. With you it's…different. I'm still worn out, but only because learning to keep it off is also exhausting. Just, you know, in the same way going to the gym or accomplishing a task that requires labor is. It's a rewarding ache." 

It gets easier. Like with anything, the more you practice, the better you get.

"You speak from experience."

I do.

"How long?"

About fifteen years.

"Fifteen years?" For a brief moment you wonder how old he is, but you aren't sure if he'll tell you more than his name yet. You file it away for next time. "And you just…live without it? Do whatever you want?"

Oh, I still wear it occasionally, but it's tactical now instead of habit. It can be a very useful tool.

"I hadn't considered that," you mutter.

Sometimes it's also necessary for survival.

"Survival?" You recoil in surprise. "Jesus, how could that be necessary?"

The world isn't kind to people like us. Besides, isn't that what you've been doing this whole time?

"I always thought it was just a way to fit in, but I suppose that was its own form of survival."

See? You learn quickly.

"It helps when you're being hand fed the answers, but I appreciate the compliment nonetheless."

You should give yourself more credit. You're quite clever, remember?

"Not something I'm used to doing out loud," you shrug. "I'm sure I'll develop the muscle memory soon enough."

You will.

"So…are we winding down? Is that what's happening here? Because otherwise I don't usually have conversations about the clock."

Why? Is it your bedtime?

You know he's teasing, but you can feel how heavy your eyelids are getting. You were serious when you said all of this wore you out, even if you find yourself not wanting to go. "No, but it could be. I am getting tired."

Do you have an early morning?

"Not really. I technically still have work tomorrow, but I've done nothing except scroll through my phone and mess around on my computer since I gave my notice.."

How rebellious of you.

"Hardly," you chuckle. "I've been hoping they'll get annoyed and tell me they don't need me to stay the whole two weeks."

Couldn't you simply walk out on your own?

"Oh, I could. Doing it this way is so satisfying, though. They're furious, but what are they going to do? Fire me?" You grin. "No, they can only bite their tongues and watch it happen."

Then by all means, scroll away. Wouldn't want to come between you and your satisfaction.

You blush and look up at the camera from beneath your eyelashes. "You wouldn't?"

No. Your satisfaction comes first.

"Fuck," you hiss. At the same time you think, 'At least I would get that orgasm.' And that thought causes a potent swell of lust to pool between your thighs. Your breath hitches. "Now I really do think I need to go before I do something I might regret in the morning."

Would you?

Regret it?

You stop to consider whether or not you're ready—if you've learned enough—only to discover you no longer know the answer to that question. Which probably means…

You hesitated.

"I did," you sigh, disappointed, even as you remind yourself it's the right thing to do. And a good rule to hold yourself to.

There was more conflict on your face than introspection this time.

"Then you already know how I'm feeling."

I'll get you there.

That confidence that bothered you just a few days ago is now thrilling. "You'd better. You promised, David." 

It's a promise I not only intend to keep, but will enjoy keeping.

"Good." You give your camera a wistful smile. "Last time I couldn't wait to close this window. Now I'm reluctant to go. That should probably concern me."

Does it?

"No. It doesn't."

Good.

"You're feeling quite pleased with yourself right now, aren't you?"

As a matter of fact, yes I am.

Because I'm once again savoring an I told you so.

"Infuriating," you sigh, but without the irritation this time. 

Take the remainder of the evening to rest and do some self reflection, as you called it. I'm sure you have plenty to mull over before next time, and I'm eager to hear what new truths you uncover.

"You know I will. Especially the rest part."

Good. I wouldn't want to wear you out too soon.

"Don't worry, I have excellent stamina." You give the camera a wink. "Goodnight, David."

Goodnight.

Before you leave the spare room, you pick up your phone and peel the tape off both of the camera lenses. In doing so, you also quickly learn that tape was a terrible idea because it leaves behind an adhesive residue that you're forced to rub off, which takes a minute. You have to keep opening your camera to make sure there aren't any smudges.

Once that's clean, you completely unbutton your blouse, exposing your bra and your stomach. Then you go down to your knees on the carpet, hold your phone high, look up into the lense with a heated, angry expression, and take a selfie. 

A selfie of you posing the way he pictures you when he touches himself to the thought of you.

You text it to him with the message: "Some inspiration. No mask."

A good twenty minutes later, while you're in the bathroom brushing your teeth and getting ready for bed, your phone buzzes.

Stunning. I was very inspired.

Fuck. It's going to be another long night and workday, isn't it?

Chapter 3 ->

A/N: Hi. Hello. Yes, Reader needs therapy, stat. Alas, she's not going to go to therapy. She's going to go fuck David Robey, serial killer, instead. Very normal and healthy behavior. (LOVE that for her, though.) Also I cannot begin to tell you how empowering it is to write her. How freeing. I ask you, who amongst us hasn't worn a mask to hide themselves or felt bad for wanting something? Who hasn't wanted to be seen by someone that can't look away? Who hasn't wanted to shed expectations like snakeskin and then go absolutely apeshit? Because I sure have. So I hope at least some of you find this just as empowering to read. This fic is for all of us. (Just maybe don't try to emulate her. She super does need therapy, like, for real.)

#david robey #david robey x reader #david robey x f!reader #the devil makes us sin fic #luther the fallen sun #luther the fallen sun fanfiction #luther #luther fanfiction #fanfiction #andy serkis #x reader

[golbrocklovely]

okay..... you all know what i'm gonna talk about. bc what else could i be talking about today other than snc's love lives lmao

i'm gonna make this short and to the point. i'm gonna be blunt. if you don't like what i have to say, tough luck. i think this fandom needs a bit of a wake up call.

yes, i have seen the photos of the guys with their respective girls. yes, sam was kissing her. and yes, colby's girl kissed him on the cheek.

all of this is to say - this is not some big deal that a lot of you are making it out to be.

and i know that sounds dumb coming from the person that talks about their love life ad nauseum. i know, i know. but the thing is, there is a difference between mentioning and talking about something and full blown HATING something, which is what a lot of you are doing - online and in my ask box.

some of yall are being nice and if so, gucci. this isn't for you. this is for everyone else, tho.

you need to stop feeling like you have a say in snc's lives. they are allowed to date, to move on from past relationships, to do whatever they want with their bodies. it is very odd to me how many of you are quick to hate on these girls and call them clout chaser and gold diggers when yall NEVER say that to any man that randomly shows up in snc's lives. but i'm not gonna get into that rn.

maybe i gave the wrong impression a while ago when i said i didn't trust the girls and felt like maybe they were doing this for clout. while i said that at the time, i don't hold resentment towards them. i genuinely don't have any feelings towards the girls. if anything, i kinda like seeing them bring out this side of snc.

it's cute. sue me.

if they are using snc, who cares. snc will stop dating them then. it's not that deep. they are two 27 year old men, they know how to handle their own shit.

also, even tho this is an obvious statement to make, it might not be that committed of a relationship for either sam or colby. we don't know if they plan to date these girls for a long time or just til tomorrow or whatever. but reality is, one - we don't know these girls. everything i've seen is just rumors and speculation. if they were shitty human beings, i highly doubt snc would date them. two - if snc do plan to date these girls long term, you being a hater towards them isn't gonna help. it also makes you look a bit crazy bc you're hating before anything could happen. three - and i mean this for EVERYONE: chill out. seriously. don't blow a gasket over snc getting gfs. dear god.

and another thing - snc might not say anything about the relationships they are possibly in rn. one, both are super new - from what i've seen, sam has been with his girl since *maybe* sept/oct. and colby had only just met malia at sam's bday party. so if you're expecting them to announce something.... don't hold your breath.

#personal #text #sg ll #cb ll

[beautifulpersonpeach]

I continue to support Bangtan even though I don't like half the members and don't think they are as talented. It might sound rude but I personally don't see the hype with JKs dancing. I have found it painfully hard to watch and no amount of body showing or tattoos makes the dancing attractive to me. I have also started to feel that JK and Tae were overhyped. Looking at their musical output has been a disappointment to me. I have always found Jin to be the least contributing member musically. I personally don't find JHopes looks that appealing but tend to rave about them because I feel bad for feeling that way. I also don't understand the hype behind Jins looks. The only members whose looks I can understand are JM, V and JK. The rest look okay to me but I pretend to love all their looks because that's what's expected. I wish JM would fix.jis damn teeth and stop having these ridiculous hair that hide his forehead. You live in a ridiculous visual focussed world for god sake so it doesn't make sense to have shitty hair cuts and a crooked teeth. I also have been utterly disappointed with JKs songs release so far (this year) and none of his performances have left a mark. I have wondered what the hype has all been.

Vs dancing to slow dancing has been laughable to me. I can't even take him seriously. Plus I think I would have liked his music a lot more if he didn't mumble in his songs.

JHope, Jimin and Suga have been the biggest revelation to me in the solo era and I have been impressed with their trajectory.

***

How does it feel now that you've put this all out there? Lighter? Different?

Anyway, I suggest you stay tuned for other 'revelations' from the members. If only the 1st solo bouts in Chapter 2 was enough to cause such a massive shift in perception for you, I suspect the next iterations will easily leave strong impressions on you in ways that will surprise you. BTS tends to do that, it's why the longer people watch them the more they love them.

...unless you're an akgae, in which case there really will be no saving you.

Ta ta.

#toxic quick asks

[discluded]

Hey, same anon that talked about BOC distancing themselves from the LGBTQ+ community. My post wasn't meant to dampen the excitement of them doing new projects with a broader audience. Just saying BOC is shitty for what they're doing. They drop the LGBTQ+ community once they want the eyes & money of homophobes. I hope MileApo's Chinese project is amazing af because they deserve it (& if BL related, it's censored as little as possible).

Thanks for clarifying! Yes, I'm just... tired of BOC right now. To me, I'm happy to throw them away with any other company that practices rainbow capitalism until it's time to stir up my ire again. My main anguish was the impression that BOC had a tight stranglehold on MileApo's potential future success by creating this ceiling with their own incompetence and we're finally free of that concern.

About whether or not it'll be BL and Chinese censorship:

First of all, I'm going to say: I'm excited either way. I don't want their work to be confined to romance, which it sounds like Man Suang will not, and while it will be lovely that queer couples are treated the same way as straight couples (In that they just sort of appear in series as leads and the primary plot is the focus while them having a relationship is background/secondary like Mabel's second season personal plot line in Only Murders), I do understand that's not the media capacity in China.

Either way, we do know they played brothers for the lolz once and it was... um, uncomfortably sexually charged.

That being said, lol this insane drama is gonna come out in China supposedly:

RIP to you if you watch, you might need brain bleach after. I'm not even sure how something like this going to pass censorship review but 😵 I guess we're see.

As far as I'm aware, I saw discussion within danmei fandom that there was potentially some loosening of the censorship rules because apparently capitalism rules all, but I can't seem to find anything about that lately so who knows. I actually saw that TGCF's drama supposedly passed censorship review last year, but it's been almost a year now and no updates.

Finally, a word about LGBTQ censorship by the CCP -- I know not everyone here lives in America or the west (thank God) but I often see comments on Tumblr and Twitter to the effect that people living under governments with human rights abuses share the same beliefs as the government. While there is definitely manipulation of public sentiment through propaganda, please remember that places with such restrictions on human rights hurt the people living in their country first and foremost. (And yes anon, I know that is not what you're saying! just my rant!!!)

The behavior of the government does not reflect the sentiment of individual citizens who live in China ( who don't get to choose their government at all lol )

Article from Feb 2022 about public outrage about the lesbian plotline in Friends being censored

A September–October 2016 survey by the Varkey Foundation found that 54% of 18–21-year-olds supported same-sex marriage in China.[124]

An online opinion poll from Phoenix Network in December 2019, which garnered close to 10 million votes, showed a 67% majority in favor of same-sex marriage in China.[46]

Again, I known anon this is not what you meant or said at all, but if I see anyone in fandom saying racist ass shit about Chinese people, I'm going to start publicly calling them out because fandom is my fun safe space and I don't need people to bring racism into my life 😊🔪

Finally, about what MileApo committed to: a full version can always air on iQiyi internationally while a sad cut version airs domestically (I think what happened with La Forte). Queer storytelling that circumvents censorship to tell the stories of queer people to a wider audience even if maybe not the full version isn't bowing to censorship - it's showing the resilience of LGBTQ people in spite of the attempts to quash out our light.

#be on cloud #censorship #chinese censorship

[ramonag-if]

I lost track of this wip for a long time but I'm so glad to have found it again. Just finished my first playthrough since way back when this was just two chapters long and I am so delighted and impressed by the quality of writing and quantity of content! Also!!! I gotta gush about Salyra and Ahlf for a second.

You have made characters that are so flawed and so lovable in a way I very rarely see and it's fantastic! The more I learned about each of them and their interactions with the MC (many of which poor MC didn't even know about) the more I'm fascinated by them. So many of the revelations made genuinely hurt so deeply, Ahlf being the old leader of the blood guard, Salyra's new family, Ahlf never sharing her letters and lying about MC being happy and fine, Salyra's bid to fix the war by having a mixed race baby blessed by the gods, it's all terrible and my poor MC is heartbroken because these two people who should have loved her did such a bad job of it but she's also conflicted because she'd like to at least think that they do actually love her! They were trying to do their best while also being fairly self-centered people. The angst is so so good! And for all that I can fault these characters I can also kinda see their lines of reasoning. It makes sense that Ahlf wouldn't want Salyra back in his or the MCs life, both out of spite and out of real concern for the safety of his child cause like, who goes to give a baby god powers with the express disapproval of their partner??? You can't trust a person after that.

And while it sucks that Salyra has a whole new family now she's more than just the MCs mom, she's a whole ass person and so of course she continued to do the things that people do even without MC around, she continued to live and love and make questionable choices. It's shitty that she never came back, but the vibe I've gotten from both the game and your responses to asks here is that she was under the impression MCs life was better this way, that their life shouldn't be uprooted again, that they knew at least some version of the truth about where she was and how she was.

Never mind her involvement with the princess and the repercussions her counsel has had on countless people! She's so interesting and tugs my emotions in so many different directions. I pity her and I loath her, and I'm playing a character who loves her so much but is crumbling under each new revelation and it's so so good.

And oh my God another thing I appreciate is how consistent your characters are, even when it doesn't paint them in a good light. Salyra is described by many people as stubborn but stubborn is one of those traits that I often see written with only the positive connotations in mind. A character is "stubborn" but it always works out for them, it only chafes the other characters who are bad guys or antagonist, it's more determination and it's tempered and righteous and leads to good outcomes because "you should never stop trying, never give up!", but like that's not proper stubbornness. Salyra is stubborn to the point of ruin, she charges forth with what she thinks is best with what seems to me is little regard for the input of others and it appears to have gone disastrously in many places but she just. keeps. going!!!

I'm having so many feelings about these characters omg. I have so many questions! Though at the forefront is does Salyra even love MC or does she just love the potential she saw in them, the plan she had for them, the symbol they were supposed to be? This ask is so long and for that I do apologize I just wanted to let you know how fantastic I think this story is and I guess express my undying love for the way you've written Salyra, even if it does break my heart lol

Have a great day!

Thank you for finding your way back to the game 🌼 I forget that the game was at one point just a few chapters in and now we're a just past the halfway mark of the full game 😅

I'm really glad you're enjoying Ahlf and Salyra as characters. I never intended to make them this flawed or angsty, but as I wrote their scenes, their characters did become more than the idea I had for them and suddenly Ahlf was emotionally detached and Salyra was heading straight towards martyrdom. I like showcasing realistic characters, which is how I view Ahlf and Salyra. I've always enjoyed family dynamics that aren't always depicted as happy and perfect or the fights are trivial at best so this was a lot of fun for me to write such a complex and painful family.

I've always been stubborn myself, so I know that it can be more of a flaw than it can be a good thing. With Salyra, I based her on a lot of different leaders who would often be successful at rebellions but have really bad personal lives because they were so focussed on their ambitions that it got in the way of everything else. Salyra's best and worst quality is her stubbornness, it's what gotten her this far, but it's also what's ruined her personal relationships around her.

Salyra does love the MC, though you as a reader need to determine if she loves the MC because they're her child or because she can't separate the MC's existence from the plans she once had as them being a symbol of peace and unity 😅 It will depend on your playthrough and there is no right way to interpret her feelings towards the MC. As the writer, I can understand how she might seem to genuinely love the MC and how to others, she might seem like she's manipulating the MC or only loves the idea of them. So you'll need to ask yourself after weighing up her actions and words if it's enough to prove genuine love or not.

Please don't apologise for the long ask 💖 I enjoy reading everyone's take on the characters and the game. It's always my favourite part about sharing updates and the story with others so we can all gush about it together. Thank you for your support 😊

#crown of exile #answered asks #salyra #thank you 💖

[mo0nfairy]

HELLOOO????? OMG THAT WRITING IS MAKING ME FOAM AT THE MOUTH-, ok, ok, can we take a moment to appreciate the writing about Carlos?, Jill, you're still my baby but Carlos has a place in my dump called heart 😫, the way in which you write his despair at not having Y/n or us idk, it's the same, it's impressive, how he went to the extremes of hallucinating day and night for 6 years in a row, scratching any limits of common sense and preparing us food that probably with the passage of time it becomes moldy and even rots-, the letters, the gifts, absolutely everything, and oh, my God, those lines where you wrote his suicidal tendencies, the crisis, the desperation, it's just incredible, I have no words to describe how I feel, and oh, that necklace, that cute bee necklace, I want one too 😭, as a person who grew up with Disney movies in their childhood it was really nice to see what you added from the movie the lady and the truly romantic tramp although it was definitely tainted by Carlos' obsessive and even slightly perverted tendencies, but okay, okay, I can help him recreate that scene as many times as he wants, besides one of my favorite foods is the spaghettis :D, I can't wait to have how rotten everyone else is, and oh, I'd also like to add something about Y/n or us, can we mention how their mental health is going to shit?, (more than I think I was already-) , right?, nobody? , oww... well, it doesn't matter, it will be for another comment, I really want to write more about your story but my stupid forgetful brain can't retain much even so, thank you very much for bringing us this wonderful work!, please, do not take it attention to those comments complaining that you do not publish "enough", each writer has his personal life, it is necessary to learn to respect it, keep up the good work!, also if you reply to me feel free to correct any errors Whether it's spelling or grammar in my writing, I'm Mexican and I really don't trust Google's shitty translator, apart from my English is too basic to write messages like this, so an apology in advance if I misunderstood any of your writings! Have a nice night/afternoon/day! I love you very much! ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა

eeeeeeek you are too damn sweet!!! your comment literally makes me smile so much. thank u so much for the kindness and giving me a good laugh, as well!! and i love your intel of my story cause YES, readers mental health is snowballing into a pit of sheer despair. like it is OVER for poor reader. thank u so so much and i love you, as well!! <3 <3 <3

#fairydust

[letsgolandoo]

reader pairing: bucky barnes x reader

summary: they hate each other and have to go on an undercover mission to France as a "couple" to find some HYDRA agents.

warnings: swearing

Bucky Barnes and Y/N hated each other, yet Tony Stark and Steve Rogers, the two Avengers who dealt with the mission plans, paired the two up to go undercover.

"You will be going undercover as a couple to scout out HYDRA agents in a hotel in Paris," Steve had said at the meeting earlier that morning.

Both Bucky and Y/N groaned and Bucky just said snappily, "I am not acting like a couple with her."

"I am literally the best person to go undercover as a couple with, I don't know why you're complaining." She grinned at him.

"Because you hate me! How are we gonna act like a couple when we absolutely can’t stand being around each other?" Bucky scoffed.

"I'm great at acting. I can fake anything."

"Fine, if you say so," Bucky mumbled as he looked away. "We’re gonna hate this."

Y/N shook her head. "No, you are going to hate this. I am going to be having the time of my life."

"And let me guess, you’re gonna be trying your very best to get under my skin?" Bucky asked bluntly.

Y/N gave him an over-enthusiastic thumbs up. "You know what, Barnes? You just hit the nail right on the head!"

"Great, just what I wanted. The spy I have to be partners with on a mission is gonna be driving me up the fucking wall." Bucky’s face was clearly full of annoyance just thinking about it.

"Oh, there's only one bed in the hotel, by the way."

"Of course there’s only one bed in the hotel! Just the icing on the very shitty cake!" Bucky yelled rather loudly.

Y/N laughed and left the room to pack her things.

Bucky just sighed and packed his things rather slowly. He had to keep reminding himself to not punch a hole in the damn wall. "I hate this, I hate this." Bucky mumbled under his breath.

"We need to be at the airport in two hours, Barnes, hurry your ass up!"

Bucky shot Y/N an annoyed glare before he started packing faster. "Whatever, but don’t you dare tell Steve or Tony I listened to you."

"Already texted Tony about it, sorry, Barnes."

"Oh, my god, you bitch!" Bucky yelled as he finally finished packing. "I’m gonna make you suffer for this," Bucky said in a way that made it sound like a threat.

"Ooh, I'm so scared." Y/N put her hands in front of her face and did an accurate impression of Draco Malfoy being a dementor.

"...You're such a dick." Bucky turned around to look at Y/N who had a mocking grin on her face. "Just don’t expect me to be nice to you for one second on this trip," he told her with a cold glare.

"I can't be a dick if I don't have one."

"Oooh, real mature. You know what I meant," Bucky said, rolling his eyes. “Just come on, we have a plane to catch.” He started to walk out of the room.

"Oh, quick FYI, we have seats next to each other on the plane."

"Oh, well that just makes everything fucking perfect, doesn’t it?" Bucky rolled his eyes again as he walked out of the room.

They soon arrived at the airport and got through security quicker than expected, leaving them with half an hour to kill before they could board the plane.

Bucky had a annoyed look on his face since he still hadn’t calmed down a bit after earlier. "We have a half hour before the plane even boards?! What are we gonna do? Look at each other?" Bucky said with a heavy sigh.

"If you wanted to have a staring contest, you could have just asked without sounding as if you want to kill yourself." She shrugged, turning to look at the brunette.

"No thanks, I’d rather not have to look at you." Bucky said a bit loudly, "Plus, what is that look on your goddamn face! Why do you look so satisfied?"

She grinned. "This is my resting face."

"Well your resting face makes you look like a spoiled brat." Bucky said with a small scoff.

"Aw, dang it, I have a resting bitch face? That fucking sucks, man." She faked a groan, slamming her hand on the wall mockingly.

Bucky stayed quiet for a second before he eventually spoke. "So, I have a question for you."

"Shoot."

"After we do all this and get back to the base, will you finally not be such a dick to me?" Bucky asked Scarlett bluntly.

"No.

#enemies #avengers #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #I wouldn't be complaining if it meant I got to go to Paris #mcu #marvel #marvel cinematic universe