#this bitch did not cut his hair during campaigns

[rayshippouuchiha]

Prompt of sorts i guess?

Read the story ‘the family you choose by TunaFishChris’ good story set in ATLA but when I finished reading it my brain threw more plot bunnies at me. Help.

Same soulmates verse but its ozai not azulon who burns zukos off, azulon does have one but its on his head covered by hair n it was for his wife so when she dies azulon goes a little mad n as this was during ozais formulation years n while iroh is away its no surprise that ozai ends up like he does. Half natural inclination n half nurture or lack there of. Sozin was soulmates with roku, loosing him n being partly responsible got rid of any sanity he still had thus war n genocide with gusto. Ozai is the only born royal with no marks n sees it as a strength, zuko gets his down his spine for his soul family always having his back n such. Ozai nearly cripples zuko getting rid of them. Lala (is easier n faster to write) gets her marks when she is with zuko, zuko is always with her, mum told him that he was a big brother n that big brothers looked after their little siblings, zuko loves his little sister, he takes her everywhere. So when her mark appear he very quickly covers them, takes them to a discreet doc in town to get cover cream for her n starts teaching her to NEVER talk about them to anyone but him, not mother not father, no one. It works the cream n the where they appear on the body mean she is not found out by ozai. This changes alot. Once azulon gets his mind back after his wifes death he is tired of war but realises that no one will believe him wanting to end the war, he looks at his sons, iroh has too much blood on his hands n likes fighting too much to be the one to take over from him. Ozai is too cruel, twisted n power hungry for it to be him. Lu ten is promising but after talking with him (under the pretences of teaching him royal politics, laws n other things that the presumed heir would need to know) azulon discovers that lu ten does not want to rule and to force him to do so would only make him resent the throne. Lu ten suggests zuko instead, zuko loves the nation n the ppl, zuko is a naturally caring n protective person, zuko already sneaks out n mingles with citizens who can’t seem to help loving him, he just draws everyone in. Lu ten suggests having zuko (and lala if zuzu is there so is she) attend these lessons with azulon n Lu ten the excuse given to allow it is that zuko is to be trained to be Lu tens advisor when he is firelord. Its the other way round really but no one else needs to know that yet, zuko can be the lord, Lu ten n lala the advisors. Lu ten is the one keeps the farce going n keeps the target for assassination on his back rather than his little cousins. Lu ten is reported dead at ba sing se but is alive just so injured n with amnesia, possibly also damage to his chi so he can’t bend. Is picked up by the boulder who was an army soldier but leaves after that battle as he can’t stand to see that much blood anymore. Lu ten has soul marks but they hang on his skin like a very log hanging belt no one is going to notice them unless he gets naked. Growing up zuko n lala discover they r soul mates, lala is far more stable as she knows her brother will always love her no matter what she does n without conditions like father. She still is terrifying but she is loyal to zuko n only plays at being loyal to ozai. When Lu ten is reported dead n ozai makes a play for the throne azulon sees his chance n when says ozai must lose a son, he doesn’t want zuko dead, he plans to remove zuko from ozai family line register n either take him in as his own son or to have iroh take zuko in. Either way zuko was never going to die. Lala not knowing this is scared her only person will be taken from her goes to mother as even though mother doesn’t love her she loves zuko n will be willing to protect him, that done she goes n spends the night with zuko in case father sends assassins. Ursa makes the poison n gives it to ozai n then runs, it isn’t fatal poison she is hoping that ozai will mess up, azulon to survive but proof that ozai tried to kill him will see ozai either in prison till he dies or being executed for treason. Either way zuko is safe from his father n azulon can’t kill zuko as he will be the only remaining male heir, ozai dead, iroh too old to have more children n azula being too young n too female for most of the war counsellors to take seriously. Ozai adds something of his own to the poison, not completely trusting ursa (I wonder y) the poison ends up stimulating death long enough for azulon to be declared dead, ozai crowned n shit started. Azulons body is secreted away by a small group of loyal followers n his health slowly, very slowly returns, he is an OLD man even if the poison doesn’t kill him it does still kick his ass a bit. Ozai ups his campaign to get rid of zuko, lala quickly becomes VERY good at acting, manipulation n fighting to counter this n keep her dum dum alive, zuko becomes paranoid as hell but reaches new heights in stealth, weaponry n first aid. Lala is counting down the days till she has a valid excuse to kill ozai. Azulon is pissed as hell that he can’t do anything from where he is apart from try to help zuko as much as he can by sending ppl he trusts to teach him n look after him. Iroh comes back n really throws a spanner in the works, dismissing his fathers ppl from around zuko, in the (how many??) months that he is back before zuko is shipped out has the highest number of nearly successful assassination attempts on zuko since ursa left. Ozai is not impressed (that they failed), lala is adding uncles name to her shit list, azulon is just mystified as to how his son who is a supposedly great tactician can be so damn stupid.

Then the agni kai happens n azulon is too pissed off at ozai to care about iroh anymore. Azula is leaving with zuko “as otherwise his only example of fire bending will be uncle father n really even dum dum is better than that, besides then if zuko dishonours the family I can kill him straight away.” She has spent too long keeping him alive now for him to ruin all her efforts now. Zuko still has the same soul mates but also has the marks for Lu ten, azula n yue. Azula has zuko, toph n yue. Lu ten has zuko, azula n boulder at the least. Toph has azula added to her group. 6 months after zuko is banished azulon manages to find their location n reach them before they leave, takes over teaching them again n rips iroh several new ones while the crew watches in awe n horror. Azulon finds out about zukos marks n what ozai did n nearly sinks the ship in his rage, lala is glad to find someone else to help her keep zuko alive even if she doesn’t fully trust him, the only one who gets that treasure is zuko. With azulon backing his thoughts about stopping the war n to start helping the ppl of his nation zuko is different by the time aang gets freed, he n lala (im still coming with u dum dum) start working with the gaang earlier n things go smoother? The fire royals end up going to the northern city with them where they meet yue, she n azula bond, azula teaches her to be terrifying, azulon just watches n makes cutting remarks on how stupid the norths misogyny is n just how under prepared they r for anything really, the small fleet of their southern sisters tribe could lay seige, win n not loose more than maybe 5 ppl n they r all non benders. Water ppl being pissed that they can’t kill azulon due to him not being fire lord anymore n is just a doting grandfather really look at how harmless n unarmed I am, they have no claimable vendetta to excuse their killing him as lawful by tribe standards, as the tribe isolated itself n has had no real damage from azulon, also he has already been declared dead which is throwing them a little. Hahn being stupid enough to try n take azulon on, azulons bitch face is epic n lala vows to replicate it one day. Political marriage betrothal between yue n zuko? This azulon is a mix of grumpy old man, sarcastic little shit n im-too-fabulous-for-this attitude. When they find toph is also when they find boulder n Lu ten, zuko n azula bond with him n that breaks the amnesia n katara might be able to help heal his chi?

#ATLA #Prompt #Oh oh damn #that's good #submission

[angstymdzsthoughts]

wow im loving this new ask layout.

it was post canon and wwx has been living with his husband and son in cr for a couple years now. jc is still somewhat reluctant to talk to him but he understands. jl comes by to nighthunt with his friends regularly. one unlucky day wwx had a mishap with resentful energy during a nighthunt accident and lsz died in the process.

everyone was heartbroken but wangxian were absolutely destroyed. they stayed in seclusion for months. wwx couldnt stand the guilt and had no face to see his son's friends and the other lans. even when lwj finally had to come out for sect duties wwx chose to stay in seclusion. he abandoned his regular cultivation and swore off demonic cultivation forever. in an effort to cheer up his husband, lwj persuaded him to go on a trip to worship the gods to pray for sizhui's death anniversary.

they came across a small temple, old and rickety and overgrown, and out of kindness they cleaned up and left a small offering. wwx just wanted his family back. lwj wanted a chance to start all over again. it suddenly stormed heavily that evening, so they had to take shelter in the temple for the night, taking caution to ask for permission from the resident god.

when they woke up, they were at the cloud recesses. lwj woke up in his old bedroom in a body that felt too small. wwx woke up startled in a guest bedroom in cr with jyl sitting by his bed.

"a-ying? did you have a nightmare?" wwx choked back a sob and just hugged his shijie for comfort. only then did he notice that he felt too small, and too soft. he looked down at his hands, then at his body. he was somehow a girl.

then jyl's presence in his room would make more sense. girls and boys dorms are separated in the cr. wangxian woke up as an alternate version of themselves with their original memories as well as the memories of their new body. lwj was still lan er gongzi. but in this body, she was just wei ying, a senior disciple of yunmeng jiang.

wangxian met each other again in class and wy took caution to not vex lqr too bad this time, lest he disapprove of their inevitably impending union. jc eyed lwj furiously when he approached wy after class to talk privately. it seemed that the two of them were the only ones reborn.

the first thing lwj did after that was ask his uncle to send a formal betrothal request to ymj for wy's hand. which to lqr was weird, but lz wouldnt budge. he thought lxc could still marry a more proper wife, so its fine.

they spent the rest of the year courting, lwj was in such a rush to marry wy. wy wasnt /actually/ jyl's little sister so it was no issue if she married first. meanwhile, jyl's betrothal was broken. this time by her own brother who punched jzx so hard he broke his nose. wangxian got married a year after they finished studying in gusu.

everyone was overjoyed when wy got pregnant. even mdm yu was happy for her. when their son was born, lwj recognized his soul to be their a-yuan, and wy cried her lungs out in joy. their little son had his old nose, lwj's nose, but now the rest of him look like them too. his hair was midnight black like lz's but with wy's playful curls. he had wy's ears and little constellation of moles on his skin. he even had lz's light eyes.

lqr wouldnt let go of his grandnephew that lan huan had to bargain with his uncle to be able to hold his nephew. after a-yuan could walk, they went to visit lotus pier. the toddler /adored/ jiang cheng, laughing and squealing loudly in his arms. he loved getting head pats by jyl and kept demanding attention from mdm yu by pulling on her skirt or hugging her leg and crawling into her lap. he wasnt so fond of jfm, however, only looking away in disinterest or reaching out his hands to his parents. for once jfm felt left out in his family.

wangxian wracked their brain trying to stop the sunshot campaign from happening, but wrh's power ran deeper than they thought and they could only postpone it, not prevent it completely. the wens attacked lotus pier first, burning it to the ground and killing jc's parents. the jiang siblings ran to cr, but it only served to bring the wen dogs sniffing at cr's door.

wy is talented in cultivation, but having sworn off resentful energy and having to protect the sect's children as well as her own, she could only do so much while her husband was taken to the nightless city.

lwj eventually managed to escape and jc with the help from qinghe nie managed to gather the survivors of his sect. they all went to war and the sun was finally shot. lwj came home to wy just in time to tell him they were expecting a daughter.

this time there was no yin hufu for jgs to fight over, just the remnants of the wen sect. knowing llj would abuse the war prisoners, lwj spoke up and ppl listened when he proposed the wen remnants go to qinghe for trials. civilians are left to themselves while criminals are sent to labor. the resouces belonging to the wen sect was distributed to other sects both big and small depending on how much casualty they suffered under wrh.

jzx fell in love with jyl during the war and got married as soon as it was over. jin ling was born not too long after a-yuan's little sister lan yuyan. together jyl and jzx forced llj to give out resources for jc to rebuild his sect.

3zun still became sworn brothers and wangxian didnt exactly know when jgy got married, so he still married qin su. jgs had jgy kill nmj, and when jgy wont agree to spy on gusulan he had another one sent. lwj sent nmj a missive not to trust jgy with calming and avoided his death.

it took a couple years, but when jgs thought he was ready he even imprisoned jzx and his family in koi tower, depriving them of any communications and arrested disciples that are loyal to jzx.

llj was gearing up to war once again, this time against everyone else. jgs had, unbeknowst of everyone, gotten the note on core melting hand technique and had xue yang learn it.

wangxian reached out to nhs, trying to find a way to kill jgs. realizing that jgs was fully prepared to kill lxc, jgy turned his sights over to jzx, admitting his faults and teaming up to kill jgs. jgs had jzxun attack qinghe, but it was easily defended against. xue yang led the troop against cloud recesses.

xy aimed at the main lan family and injured a-yuan. in a desperate attempt to save his family, lwj jumped out and xy destroyed his golden core. meanwhile, he still sent spiritual energy towards saving his son. distracted by his victim, wy managed to cut xy's head off. back in llj, jgy along with jzxuan and jc attacked jgs's forces in koi tower. jc beheaded jgs and with that this new war was over.

thanks to lwj, lan yuan was fine and his injury was stabilized. however the destruction of lwj's golden core not only take away his cultivation but also mangled his meridians. wy could do nothing but weep with her daughter in her lap while lxc and lqr played healing for her husband.

lwj died in his sleep that night, finally exhaling his last painful breath while wy fell asleep from crying. his funeral along with those fallen during the attack was held a few days after. wy didnt look like herself in the mourning clothes she wore along with the children.

wy was inconsolable and kept apologizing the the children. especially a-yuan. fate had been so cruel on him that he couldnt grown up with two parents twice over. it seemed that in this life too he would be named sizhui. wy refused to move and kept sigil by lwj's coffin.

suddenly su minshan came out of nowhere and started yelling at her. calling her a jinx and an unlucky bitch that shouldve prevented her husband from dying. lqr yelled at him to leave. two and a half year old lan yuyan tried to shoo him away, punching at his knees. but the adult man just kicked the little girl away. jc couldnt stay silent anymore and wrapped zidian around sms's neck and pulled, making sure his neck broke when hitting the floor.

wy didnt say anything. she just took her crying daughter and left. after making sure lan yuyan is alright, wy locked herself in her room for 3 weeks. she didnt even open the door when her kids come knocking and begging.

it broke lxc's heart to see once again two children waiting on their mother's door. he asked jyl for help in persuading wy to come out. when they came in, wy looked like a ghost still in her white mourning robes with a whole head of white hair and her eyes so weary from weeping. she fainted soon after opening the door.

they checked on her only to find out she was 2 months pregnant. the tears start anew for wy and jyl asked lxc to take wy back to lotus pier so she can recuperate with her sworn siblings. lxc and lqr reluctantly agreed and wy came with jyl and jc back to lotus pier. jzxuan became the new sect leader and severely punished jgy along with his father's men while his wife and son stayed in yunmeng.

wy made a promise with lwj once to never let their children be orphans like they were. even if only for her kids, wy tried her best to get better. she stood out in her white mourning robes in lotus pier. wy was constantly surrounded by kids, all wanting her attention. she ate jyl food with the kids and watched jc teach her kids and jin ling how to swim. after a couple months, her dark hair came back and she got healthier. her second son lan shun was born in the middle of the hot yunmeng summer in lotus pier.

after lan shun turned 1, they came back to cloud recesses. wy had some time to accept her loss, but kept thinking abt lwj. after hearing from other lan disciples, lan yuan asked granduncle to teach him inquiry. the first time lwj responded to a-yuan's guqin strings, wy broke down on her knees. wy has been wearing lwj's headband on her forearm, so lwj attached parts of his soul in it. some of it went to bichen, which lan yuan inherited. some went to lan yuyan who inherited wangji guqin. lan shun never knew his father so he didnt want anything belonging to lwj.

for now, wy had to be content with inquires to lwj. for now they had to be content with waiting for each other on the other side.

.

[asteriismos]

politics - jacob thrombey

authors note : pls listen to ‘tear you apart’ by she wants revenge while reading this literally. I hope this is at least consistent i did not proofread.

warning(s) : smut, swearing, degrading stuff

words : 3.4k

summary : you’re the liberal, bernie sanders lover at your prep school and jacob is the conservative nazi. the day of your schools political rally each of you finally get rid of that underlaying tension between you two. 

“and oh my god he does this thing with his tongue and it just-”

“jesus, holly, we’re supposed to be talking about the rally,” you said to your friend, giving her daggers when you glanced at her. it was a day until the rally your private school, buxton prep, had every four years for the presidency. 

in usual democratic, liberal fasion, you were rallying for bernie sanders. since you were a senior this year you got to run the whole project, which was obviously more work than you thought it would be, but then again it would look good on college applications. it also got you out of going to the boring classes you didn’t want to go to. all you had to do was raise your hand and say you needed to do something for the rally, and the teacher would dismiss you like it was nothing. 

when you were a little freshman four years ago during the previous election, you were a part of the democratic team as well. though at that time you were just a little fourteen year old, so the seniors and juniors basically made you their lackey. you got coffee for them, baked so many cookies, and went on too many food runs you lost track of the number. you also made so many signs your fingers bled from the amount of paper cuts you got. 

overall, you were very happy that you didn’t have to do that this year. call it hazing, but it made sense that the freshman were tasked with doing all that stuff. 

at your school, which was too preppy it made rival schools want to throw up, the freshman were at the bottom of the food chain. and you had worked really hard to be the senior that you were now. you were popular, always having a group of lackeys, and had one of the best grades in your entire class. 

“. . . sorry y/n, but i am working, look at these signs,” holly said, holding up the sign she was working on. it was a nice sign. holly was purposely tasked with doing the designs because she wanted to be an art major, and she was just a sophomore so you didn’t feel bad about telling her she needed to make fifty. 

you gave her a feigning proud smile, nodding your head. “okay, whatever you say. who are you talking about anyways?”

holly looked up from her work, a blush splaying across her face. “no one, don’t worry about it, it was a one time thing.” 

her eyes, however, gave it away. they looked past you and right at the group of boys who you despised. well, some of them were good, but they were led by someone who you fucking hated it made your blood boil.

dressed in the boys uniform of your school, a dark blue sweater with a white collar popped out and black dress pants, was jacob thrombey. he was talking to some of the other boys in the senior class, motioning with his hands while he talked expressively. you looked back at holly with wide eyes, realizing that jacob was the person that she had been talking about. 

“you did not sleep with jacob thrombey,” you said, mouth agape with shock. 

holly laughed nervously. “like i said, it was a one time thing! it was at that party you said you were going to go with the group to and you never showed up. i was horny i don’t know.” 

“oh, that party, right,” you said with a shrug. you said that you would meet your group of friends at the party that colin ( another boy of the thrombey group ) was hosting this past weekend. but then the more you thought about it, the more you didn’t want to go because getting wasted on a saturday night and possibly ending up in bed with anyone from that group did not sound like a fun time. plus you wanted to take a bath and watch netflix, have a little relaxing night. “still . . . sleeping with the enemy?”

you tuned out holly’s excuses, instead searching your bag for the flyers that you thought you had put in there that you printed in the library earlier. they weren’t there, you probably just forgot to take them and left them in the library by the printer. you groaned, excusing yourself from the group and walking out of the cafeteria. 

your black dress shoes clanked against the smooth tile of the hallway. you anxiously pulled down your dark blue and black checkered skirt so that nothing you didn’t want showing was showing. the skirts were already short enough, which was a little sexist on the schools part, but it was your uniform. there was nothing that you could really do about it. 

the library was unlocked, thank god. you turned the lights on and walked in, making your way to the back to the printers. once you got there you saw your flyers sitting there where they had been left by you in second period. 

soft footsteps echoed closer to you and you turned around, seeing jacob walking over to the printers, phone in hand. suddenly the other printer next to you started up, signaling that he was printing something too. probably his own posters. 

“hey y/n,” he greeted, glancing at you and then leaning against the table, fingers tapping against the wood. 

you scoffed. “thrombey. following me?”

“no, I know this is going to be a dent in your little rich girl complex, but the world doesn’t revolve around you. i’m printing stuff for the rally,” he replied. of course he was.

jacob was running the donald trump campaign for the rally. making you hate him even more than you already did. the way that he acted like no one else in the world mattered except himself made you want to rip your hair out, and the fact that he had the audacity to act like you were the entitled one. 

instead of getting political with him ( because that would be happening all day tomorrow ), you looked at him and said, “could you maybe stop fucking my friends?”

jacob looked at you quizzically. “what do you mean?”

“holly said you hooked up with her at that party, could you maybe not fuck my friends? or if you’re going to hook up with them at least stop hooking up with sophomores. i know they’re easy and can’t see how much of an asshole you are but seriously. gross,” you scoffed. 

“are you jealous?”

you squinted at him. “no, i’m not fucking jealous. i just don’t want you to hook up with her again and then she comes crying to me because you wanted to do knife play or something.” 

jacob only laughed, taking the pile of flyers that finished printing. “why do you think i’m such a sadist?”

“because we all know those hand marks on carissa’s neck last year weren’t just a coincidence after you hooked up with her.”

he didn’t answer, instead shrugging his shoulders and watching away. you sighed, realizing that you were never going to get him to listen to anything you said ever. he was too much of an ass, luckily soon enough you never would have to see him again after you graduate. 

-

today was the day of the rally, and you were more than excited. the only problem was that you were stressed out of your mind trying to get everything set up in your large booth. everyone was either setting up the blue cookies that had been baked or getting the pins ready to hand out with sanders printed on them in large blue letters. 

“where are the shirts?” you asked one of your helpers, giving her a condescending look. “don’t tell me you left them in mrs. prescott’s classroom.”

she had. fucking god. 

you shook your head and turned on your heel, walking away from your booth and leaving someone else in charge while you were gone. you turned the corner and made your way into the big classroom. 

“what the hell are you going here?” a male voice asked. it was jacob, who was looking in a box that had your name on it. it was the box with the shirts. 

you walked over to where he was and grabbed the box away from him. “what are you doing with my shirts?”

“just looking, shitty design,” he said. 

you scoffed. “you’re an ass you know that? no one actually likes you, you have no respect from anyone but your little meathead jocks.” you meant to get him mad, but the look he gave you realized that he was in a more angry mood than he usually is.

“you think you’re such a tough bitch,” jacob yelled at you, pushing you back with such force you felt your stomach drop. his hands came to your shoulders and pushed you again, until you were pressed all the way up against the wall. your shoulder blades dug against the cold concrete, back of your head hitting against it. “you think that you’re so fucking entitled,” he went on, his body capturing yours in a hold so you couldn’t squirm out. 

your hands came to his chest, trying your best to push him away from him. his arms were pressed against the wall, still trapping you. in a leap of faith, you looked up into his piercing green eyes and gave him a smirk. “yeah? and what are you going to do about it, thrombey? teach me a lesson?” 

a sadistic smile came across his face, which made you instinctively press your thighs together, realizing how wet you actually were just looking at him, just feeling how close he was to your body. 

“you’d like that wouldn’t you? for me to teach you a lesson, fuck you until you can’t stand,” he hissed, his head ducked down and pressed hot kisses against your neck. his teeth grazed along that sweet spot and you gasped, your hands now balling up into fists on his chest. jacob laughed against your neck, using his tongue to lick a clean stripe all the way up your neck to the edge of your jaw. “amazing how much of a needy bitch you actually are. not really that tough, are we?”

“fuck you,” you said in a weak voice, feeling his hips grind against your own. he laughed again at your weak attempts to savor the last bit of dignity you had left in you, even though your own body was betraying your mind. your brain was going haywire, not knowing if you were going to push him all the way off of you and leave, or if you were going to give into the temptation. 

the latter ended up winning and you succumbed into his touch, pulling him by his shirt to kiss you. the second his lips landed on yours his tongue slipped into your mouth, fighting with your own and ultimately winning in the little power play you had going on with him. 

he pulled off your shirt, leaving you in nothing but your bra and skirt that was being hiked up by his other hand. you worked aimlessly on his own clothing, pulling off the dark blue blazer and only being left with his white collared button up undershirt to be in between the skin of both of your chests. your hands came up to take off his tie and get the buttons undone, but his own hands grabbed your wrists, tutting condescendingly. 

“that’s not how this is going to go, princess,” jacob said, pulling your hands to his belt of his black dress pants. “did you really think that i was going to let you be in control? i know that you’re a brat, but i didn’t think that you were dumb.”

you whined at his words, hating that his degrading words turned you on even more. his eyes motioned down to the ground and you quickly realized what he wanted. jacob stepped away from you enough to make you slink to your knees, hands still connected to the waistband of his pants. 

deciding to play the brat card with him, you looked up at him and said, “what do you want me to do, jacob?” it was in the most innocent tone you had ever made in your life and the look that he gave you almost made you cum in your pants right then and there. 

your hands came to palm him through his pants, keeping your eyes on him to see jacob’s head throw back with a low groan. his hands found their way to your hair, while you gave his growing bulge a light kiss. you continued to do this until his head came back to look down at you, hand moving to hold you by your jaw. “enough of this,” he spat, undoing his belt and watching as you unzipped his pants and pull them down to the ground. he took himself into his hands and pumped lazily a few times, until letting it rest on your closed lips. 

precum wiped against your kiss swollen lips as you opened your mouth, tongue falling out, waiting for him to do anything. he tutted again, other hand gripping your hair, finally pushing his dick into your mouth. he went as far as he could, hitting the back of your throat and watching you gag around it. you didn’t let yourself gag too much though, just enough to get remotely comfortable as he stilled in your throat. 

then he started moving your head up and down his cock, finding a steady rhythm that had you breathing in and out rapidly through your nose, spit dripping off his shaft and down your chin. the lewd noise that came out of your mouth made you moan, the vibrations enough to make him groan himself. 

he pulled you off of him, spit falling and getting everywhere on your face. “at least your pretty while i face fuck you, unlike your little friend holly. she just kept gagging and choking, which was hot at first, then a little sad,” he mentioned, wiping some of the spit off your chin with his thumb. 

you were about to talk to him again, until he was pushing right back into your mouth, to which you hollowed your cheeks out as much as you could to fit all of him in there. 

the sounds of his noises sent pressure right to your core, and you needed to alleviate the hot pressure that was building. sneakily ( or what you thought was sneakily ), your hands came to play with your clit, making you groan out against his dick. this caught his attention, and he pulled all the way out of you to give you a frown.

“are you actually touching yourself without my permission?” he asked, his voice teasing you and making you feel like a little girl.

your eyes widened, feeling stupid from his words and scared about what he was going to do about you getting caught in the act. he was silent, only looking at you with those dark green eyes that made you squirm under his gaze. without speaking, he pulled off the tie he was wearing and grabbed your hands, pushing your wrists together behind you. 

you couldn’t see what he was going to do until you felt the fabric bite into your skin, hearing the fabric fold into a tight knot. you tried to move your hands away from the tie and you couldn’t, they were tied together, unable to do anything. you were completely in his control now. 

“i'm sorry jacob . . . please i want to touch you,” you whined, though your voice was breaking from him ruining your throat.

he just laughed. “no, you wanted to touch yourself. don’t lie y/n, or i’ll just keep you like this and make you watch me finish myself off.” 

you hated that you found how cruel he was being hot, that it made you even more wet at the thought of him doing anything he wanted to you now that you were completely in his control. 

“get up,” he ordered, grabbing you under your arms and helping you onto your feet. it took you a moment to steady yourself since you didn’t have much balance, though you weren’t standing for long when he pulled you over a few feet away and bent you over the closest desk. your chest pressed against the cold surface, he pushed your head down too, cheek against the wood. 

he pulled you by the hair to hold you up, feeling his cock press up against you. “suck on these real quick for me princess,” jacob muttered, pushing two fingers into your mouth. you moaned against them, wiping your tongue all around them, letting your spit catch along his long digits. “good girl,” he praised, pulling them out of your mouth, pulling away your panties and inserting both of them into your aching hole. 

you yelped at the sudden pleasure, but pushed your hips against his hand, feeling him pump them in and out over and over again at an unforgiving pace. “is this what you wanted? just to be touched by someone you claim you hate,” his fingers pulled out of you, his hand landing to steady your hips. 

you heard him fumble a little bit, pushing into you after a few seconds went by. he was so big, and didn’t waste any time to let you adjust. when he bottomed out, he pulled all the way out and then back in roughly. you clenched around him, gasping breath in and out in a desperate attempt to adjust to him. 

even though he was going at an already fast pace, you could tell he was holding back. so you smirked, saying, “you said you’d fuck me till i can’t stand, but here i am standing.” jacob laughed, pulling you up by the hair again. you felt his hot breath fan against the shell of your ear as he whispered, “whatever you say.” 

his hips began rutting against you at an unbelievable pace, making you almost scream, head still being held up only by his hand in your hair. his lips kissed the skin below your ear, all the way down to the back of your neck, making you shiver and lean into his touch. 

your legs were already feeling tired, especially since your hands were still tied behind you by his tie and you couldn’t use them to hold yourself up. you felt like a limp rag doll against the desk while he pounded relentlessly into you. 

you were already so worked up that you knew you weren’t going to last very long, and surprisingly enough the way that the edge of the desk was digging into your hip bones the more you reached closer and closer to that edge. 

“fuck jacob i’m going to cum,” you yelled out, fingernails clenching into the palms of your hands. “please, please let me cum.”

“well since you asked so nicely,” jacob said. “cum then.”

you yelped out, squeezing around him and hitting your high like hitting a hard brick wall. the impact of him still rutting relentlessly and animal like into you made it hard for you to stand, riding out your high. his arm came to wrap around your waist, holding you against the desk while he chased his own high. 

the sensitivity you felt was enough to make your eyes water. jacob was not that far behind you though, giving you one last good thrust then spilling inside of you. you felt the cum enter you and fill you up, and when he pulled out you felt the liquid run down your inner thighs. 

the sounds of each of your breaths filled the room. your wrists were undone and you leaned against the desk, turning around and looking at them. there were deep purple bruises in a ring along them, and you knew those were going to be impossible to cover up with makeup to make your skin look natural.

each of you were silent while he got dressed and you cleaned him off of your thighs with a kleenex, getting dressed yourself. until you said, “you’re lucky i’m on birth control, asshole. you didn’t even ask me if you could come inside.”

“I figured you were, seemed like you,” he retorted. 

“you’re still unbelievable,” you answered, deciding to pin up your hair because there was no way you would be able to make it look normal while it was down. 

jacob tied his tie and gave himself a once over. “yeah, and you’re still a brat. see you at the rally, hopefully your voice recovers or else you’ll have to explain to all of your liberal bitches about how you got on your knees for me.”

asshole.

#jacob thrombey #jacob thrombey x reader #jacob thrombey smut #jacob thrombey imagine #knives out #knives out imagine

[inthedarkofficial]

Stats at 25

I did this at 18 and at 21 because they felt like milestones, and... well, so does 25, I guess. It's going under this time though, because you know what that is? Growth.

Novels Written: In the Dark (no, really, it's done this time!), Dragons, In the Flames (which was meant to be In the Know), and I'm about 31,000 words into the real In the Know

Poems written: 40+

Agent Rejections: 21 this year alone (and I at about 30 total? Fuck)

Agent Requests: On their way, of course

Works planned: 15 novels, 4 short story collections, 1 encyclopaedia. 1 poetry collection, 1 short play, 1 nonfiction essay.

Publishing credits: 1 that we talk about (FourxFour baby!)

Characters: where do they keep coming from?

Lives lived: Why did I phrase this in the past tense? It's still happening

Life path: One step at a time, but an author, always

Books Read: Not as many as I'd like

Books to Read: A lot more than I'd like

Concerts seen: 27

Grades in piano: 3 (why do I keep including this?)

Memories: Treasured and painful and apparently something I have to fight for

Time: Lost all meaning this last year

Nickname: Still going by Padfoot, call me Roro and I will cut you

Clothes: So! Many! Clothes! but they make me feel better than ever

Style: It changes every day because I change every day

Friendships: How did I make new, incredible friends during a lockdown? I don't know, but gods bless D&D

Parents: We survived together in one house locked down for over a year, I'm so grateful for them

Family: I miss you Kali. I miss you nan. I want to hug you, Maddison. I want to give all of you a hug, honestly.

Enemies: I'm still coming for you, Derek

Sexuality: I keep looking closer and closer to see what the ins and outs are, but I'm bi and queer and that's enough

Gender: I fucking came out as genderqueer and I've started playing with pronouns and gender presentation and honestly? Never felt better

Hair colours: Literally could not tell you anymore. How many? Who knows. I want another.

Education: A in 11+, 2 A* and 8 A GCSEs, 1 A* and 2 A A Levels, 2.1 English Literature Degree, and I will finish this fucking proofreading course! Also, that masters degree is really calling me like a siren...

Tattoos: 2, and as soon as Covid allows it, I'll be getting more

Continents : 3

Countries: 10

Cities: I clearly counted this wrong and now? no clue

Homes: About to be 9!

Places to visit: I just want to go and see (and meet!) my friends, honestly

Vaginismus: Diagnosed! Fucking diagnosed!

Dilators: size 2!

Relationship status: Not going to be fucking decided by what some fucking Western doctor thinks I should be using my vagina for holy gods.

Standards: I want to be loved right down to my scalp. I enjoy my own company too much to settle for less.

Tears shed: My eyes hurt

Laughter: My ribs hurt

Jobs: 5, +writer, always. Fingers crossed for some sweet, sweet income soon though.

Readings: More! Let me do more! Covid, you bitch!

D&D campaigns: 1 abandoned, 1 shelved, 2 ongoing, 1 beginning soon

D&D Podcasts: R.I.P. Edge of Night

D&D characters: Where are all you stupid bisexuals coming from? (Not you, Caleb, we're thrilled to have you here)

Clean: Been a daily struggle this year. Not quite succeeding sometimes. But never fully relapsed. I can be proud of that.

Mental health: Ups and downs, but I'm taking back control

Physical health: Ready to fight doctors, but I'm getting there

Height: 5′2″, do I really need to keep recording this?

Shoes size: 3 (uk), I totally need to keep recording this

Weight: Most days I like my body, and that's a big improvement

Puns: cannot count how many times I got kicked out of skype calls this year

Beliefs: Maybe it's better to have ideas, but I've found names to give power to, powers to give love to, I have principles I live by, the faeries in the garden still get offerings, hawthorn trees carpet the garden in flowers, and I am enough. The worls is on fire, and full of people doing harm for no reason, so it's hard to believe that the world is good, but my life, at its core, is a good life. And I'm so grateful, even when things are hard.

Happy memories: even in the darkest and hardest of times, I have had moments of pride, and moments I felt loved. I know what unconditional love is. What could be better

Sad memories: Reclaimed, remembered, and not going to fucking control me.

How the things I planned to do at 21 panned out: actually learned what it takes to find an agent and though it took longer than I planned, I am now doing that process. Gave up krav maga, no regrets. Did finish my third novel (at least, first draft), then learned it was the wrong novel. But I did write a whole other novel. Graduated UEA with a 2.1. Successfully left Norwich and never have to fucking return! Have done freelance editing work and got a job at Debenhams, though Covid fucked those a bit. Wrote that fucking dissertation and it's fabulous. Did see Hamilton. Did put more hats on Cicero before he broke (but he's now getting repaired!) Decided a TEFL was an insane idea, I hate teaching. Did, indeed, continue to live and did a whole lot else.

Goals at 25: Keep submitting to agents, finish In the Know and work on the faery books, continue my physical and mental health journey, keep working with the dilators, move into my own house (!), find a steady source of income, start getting my poetry and other writing out there, finish my vaginismus article, visit my friends, get a new tattoo, keep volunteering at Pride, play enough D&D to justify all these fucking dice sets, get Cicero back, keep building the life I want.

Life at 25 years: when I wrote my "Stats at 21" post, I didn't know how much denial I was in. I'd totally repressed the memory of being sexually assaulted and I didn't even know about a condition that I've just learned has likely been impacting me in multiple ways all my life. I hadn't even met a person who would become one of my best friends, and then my boyfriend, and then my ex, and then totally out of my life by the time I write this. I barely knew the guy who is now one of the most important people in the world to me. I was only beginning to question my gender. I'd not questioned my sexuality in years. I've been through counselling, learned to stand up for myself, worked on so many projects I couldn't even imagine being a part of back then, been on a huge vaginismus journey that's still on going, started playing D&D, went to the graduation ceremony I never planned to attend, and I'm about to have my own house, just to point to a select few things. There's been a global pandemic (still ongoing), movements and trials that helped me find my truth and broke my heart, Brexit fucking happened, I lost my best, dearest and oldest friend (I love you Kali) and my nan... I could not have imagined what 25 would look like on the night I turned 21, just like at 18, 21 was impossible to picture.

So I guess... hi future Rowan. Happy 27th birthday (of course it's going to be 27). What does your world look like now? Did we fall in love? Did we make good dilator progress? How's the house? Did we decide on kids? I cannot begin to wonder what your world looks like, but I swear, I'm working on making it good.

"Soft and slow/Watch the minutes go/Count outloud/ So we know you don't keep them for yourself." - Halsey

#personal #rowan rants #bisexual cancerians who talk to trees day #no one should feel any inclination to read this #I am simply allowed my little public journalilng rituals #as a treat #july 3rd

[yamithediaperdork]

Happy Fathers Day (Mortal instruments..because..of course XD)

It was the annual father day picnic in central park, and while something semi scandalous seemed to happen every year, this year would be the one to take the proverbial cake. If nothing else one group of boys, close knit friends since they were in pre school together, would have a whole new world opened up to them. they were Alex and Jacob Wolfe, 12 year old twins with dirty blond hair that Jacob had in a mushroom cut while Alex kept his buzzed, Keith Ryan who had shoulder length brown hair and finally Kevin west, who kept his black hair buzzed down. Today while their four man band (At least that's what their dad's liked to call them, the boys all just rolled their eyes at that) where playing a game of football, waiting on their dad's to call them over for food, they got treated to a sight one may not of expected at a public park, at least not during the day. It was Jacob who noticed the sight first, stopping and starring and his jaw dropped which let the ball deck him in the face, but the pre-teen didn't seem to notice. "Dude, what's with you?" Keith asked, running up, annoyed since they were on the same team. "Jacob, you ok?" Alex asked, worried about his brother. "Oh man, he's gone comatose..tell me you didn't eat any of my dad's chilli. I warned you guys about that!" Kevin groaned. All Jacob could do was point, and the other three followed the finger, and joined him in drop jaw reactions. After all, it wasn't every day you saw a adult baby being lead into the park.

going back to a few days earlier, and Jace had been snuggling in his daddies arms. the shadow hunter had just finished a coming out party involving all of his closet friends and while not everyone was happy, they had been understanding and gushed about how cute he'd been in his barbie diaper and teddy bear top. Simon, the vampire daddy of the littlest monster killer had been semi glad about how well the party had gone, though he was also disappointed. "and then when Alec gave me head pats and said he knew it, had knew it fer years..ehehehehe your right daddy! Coming clean was the best thing to do!" Jace coo'ed, and nuzzled into Simon's chest. "Well to be fair, I guess I shouldn't of been shocked so many of them knew, since you've been wearing them to bed every night." Simon admitted and patted the boys soggy diaper. Barbie had long since faded away from the front but the diaper could take a bit more punishment, and with how often Jace went well, they had to make every diaper count. "And pull up's during the day, just like you told me to cuz I'm SUCH a good boy!" Jace beamed, all proud of himself for letting himself be sent back into 24/7 diaper wearing. "It's just..I dunno..I was mayybbeee..." Simon started and Jace giggled and smirked. "You wanted them to tease and torment me and make me a red faced big baby so I'd be super squirmy and cry baby~" Jace giggled. "Well tough! They were loving and understanding and I'm just all happy and want cuddles, not filled with massive humiliation and going into a whiny big baby mode!" Jace finished and blew a raspberry. "..You know. since you're gonna be my widdle guy 24/7.. I think we need to let even more people know and see the real you." Simon said, as he wiped the spittle from the raspberry off of his face. the fact he had a evil grin on his face made Jace gulp and lose his, and a muffled fart sounded from his rear. "...I don't like it when you get that look on your face daddy."

In the following days some steps were taken to help Jace be the little boy he wanted to be 24/7, even though Jace started regretting his decision to ask for it soon after. Step one was to gather up every adult piece of clothing that Jace wore, and have a nice big yard sale with them. the money was tucked away nice and next, and would be used not on booze or toy's, or anything like that. It went just right into Jace's diaper budget, with him going poopies at least 3 times a day, and diapers not being cheap. "This sucks! I should at least be able to get some toys!" Jace had argued. "well you can get a lot of toys, if we get you cloth diapers and plastic pants instead. but I'm not gonna be the one washing them or hanging them out to dry." Simon said as they sold the last of Jace's pants. the teenagers buying it had been laughing seeing Jace sitting there in a chair in just his diapers (with the weather being so nice and all) and laughed even more when they heard the argument. "But..but.I'm a baby! I don't do washing!" "and you don't get a say in what money is spent on. maybe if we'd been able to sell your undies we could of gotten you some action figures, but their just too skid marked and no one wants them, even at a nickle a pair." Jace huffed at that and in the end they did get rid of all 10 of Jace's undies, for 10 cents and they were sold to a blushing young man who couldn't stop looking at Jace. "Bet you he's gonna wear them all as like, a form of toddler pants." Simon said as the guy dashed off. "Pffft that's silly, who would do that?" Jace asked,. "oh, you'd be surprised."

The next part of Jace's permanent transformation was taking him out to load up his closet in Simon's home. that meant dozens of cute outfit and loads of diapers. Jace didn't mind the overalls or the shortalls, but the onsies were kinda squirmy to try on at the mall,m double so with the sales lady claiming that she needed 'extra help' and calling over all of the other clerks so Jace was basically putting on a little fashion show. Which only got worst when Kelly, the clerk they had started with, after hearing Simon jokingly complain about how often Jace needed a diaper change suggested that they try some dresses and skirts, They had already seen the poor big babies barbie diapers but Jace was NOT a happy camper as he then spent half a hour shaking his butt, and twirling in his short party dressed, mini skirts, and basically girl clothes that didn't do anything to fully hide his diapers. The fashion show thankfully ended when Jace in the middle of showing off a jean skirt with a fake plastic diamond heart on it off and popped a squat and destroyed the back of his diaper. Kelly hadn't let them get changed in there, though she had to hold a nose while ringing them though.

After a diaper change in the parking lot Jace and daddy had been on their way home when they heard a announcement on the radio about the father's day picnic in the park, opened to anyone and everyone. Jace despite having just gone poopie got a badddddd feeling in his tummy as he looked at daddy in the rear view mirror from his car seat. "Havvvve I ever mention how much I HATE the park?" Jace asked, gulping and squirming. "Oh Really? Maybe that's just because you haven't gone to the park with daddy, and been able to show everyone your cute widdle outfits." Simon said. "..You just want me blushy!" Jace whined and pouted, folding his arms and sulking. "Mmmhmmm, and DADDY gets what DADDY wants." Simon said. "Now who wants McDonald's?" "...I do but i'm not wearing a dress to the park!" Jace said. "We'll see~"

In the end Jace did win his campaign to not wear a dress or skirt to the park, mostly by pointing out that he'd just cry rape and beg for a adult if Simon tried. With Simon knowing the big baby well enough to know that wasn't a bluff, Jace was instead dressed in triple his normal thick bulky diapers, and in a light blue onesie with a teddy bear print all over it. (though to be fair, he'd given Jace a choice between the teddy bear themed Onesie or a white one, just the pink barbie diapers semi showed with the white one) a pair of white socks and Paw patrol light up sneakers were on his feet and a blue paci was in his mouth with a ribbon on it that was clipped to his shirt and his hair had been neatly brushed. One hand was in daddies as they walked into the park, getting stares and a few comments, and the other was hugging a Chase from paw patrol stuffie to his chest. With Jace being tripled diapered Daddy only brought along one change for the little guy, and it was in the picnic basket he carried in his free hand as they looked for a good spot to sit down. "See anywhere that looks nice little guy? or cat got your tongue?" Simon teased. Jace was sucking fast on his paci, quickly going crimson faced as the taunts came at them. "Awww that's so cute!" One girl said, pointing Jace out to her father. "What the hell.." Anther dad said. "Fucking fags. keep it indoors!" Called a big bearded biker dad. "Er..is this against the law?" A mother asked. "I KNEW YOU WERE LYING! THEY DO MAKE BIG KID DIAPERS!" one 5 year old huffed, yelling at his parents.

The 4 man band stared in shock and as Jace and Simon walked/waddled by them a strong smell of baby powder was in the air. two of the boys were fixated on how powerful and cool Simon looked, totally in control of the dumb big baby and wanted to experience a power rush like that,. The other two were biting their lips and squirming as they both focused on different parts of Jace's humiliation. "Whoa..L-Look at how massive those diapers are..t-they are diapers right?" Alex said, gulping. "No dork, he just has a massive butt. of course he's in diapers." Kevin chuckled. "T-That outfit.. oh man.." Jacob  chipped in. "Could you even picture wearing something like that? that would get a 3 year old teased!" "heh, your got that right. only a total bitch would let himself be dressed like that. or his daddy is just THAT freaking awesome he's making that blond bitch come out like that." Keith said with a grin, turning and noting the look on the twins faces. "heh, Jealous?" "NO!" both twins yelled out, their own faces going bright red and Kevin and Keith just exchanged grins.

Of course with his Vampire senses Simon knew what was happening and chuckled softly. 'I suppose I should feel bad corrupting the young and all that..buttt fuck it. I'm already a soulless blood drinker.' the vampire thought. "Don't look now but I think we just inspired two new big babies." Simon said in a low voice, then paused and waved a hair in front of his face, acting as if Jace had just let out a stink bomb though the blond baby was holding his poopies in. "Jace! did you go uh-oh already?" Simon asked loudly. Jace's blush couldn't get any worse, but the big baby shook his head no,but kept his paci in. "Mhmmm. likely story. I know you like to sit in it it." Simon said, again in a loud voice and drawing more attention to them as he rolled his eyes. "turn around for a bum check little man." Jace squirmed like crazy but knew better then to argue with daddy, and when he was this humiliated, he went into a whole new level of subby. turning around Jace looked at the group of boys who half of which were watching with grins, the other half with semi envy as Simon dropped down to one knee and patted Jace's butt a few time. "Hmmm I guess it was just gas. sorry for not believing you little guy." Simon said. he looked around and then opened up the basket and pulled out a checkered red and white blanket and spread it on the gas. "I know you wanted to sit at a table buddy, but with the extra diapies you begged to wear daddies worried you'll fall and go boom." Simon said, and ruffled Jace's hair even as the blond baby glared at him, then nodded and plopped on his massive rear. Simon was pulling out their lunches, some fried chicken with mashed potatoes for him, with a bottle of what he would tell anyone who asked was fruit punch but was some of Jace's blood, while pulling out 4 large jars of prune flavored baby food and a bottle of formula for Jace. "Is daddies little man hungry now, or wanna let daddy eat first then spoon him him?" Simon asked, and reached forward, lightly tugging on the paci and pulling it from the big babies mouth. "I um..I.." "Use your big boy words." Simon said, smirking. Jace, who had been about to anyways squirmed and just nodded his head. "I um.. Daddy can eat first." he said,using his baby voice anyways. "ok buddy. I know you wanna eat big kid food like daddy but we BOTH know it doesn't agree with you an-" Simon was cut off as the boys from before strolled over. "Hey Mister um.. if you don't mind, I can feed him" the brunette with the buzz cut said. "Oh, have you ever spoon fed a baby before?" Simon asked. "It's not as easy as it sounds, they can be little fuss buckets." Simon added, reaching forward and tickling Jace's chin making him giggle a little. "well no, But Me and Keith." and the brunette jerked a thumb to the long haired kid. "Figure we'll need the practice." he said, giving a toothy grin as the blond twin blushed and squirmed. "heh Oh?" "Kevin! Don't tell him that!" one of the blonds squeaked out. "W-we're not babies!" the other one added. "Alex, Jacob, Hush. big kids are talking." the one named Keith said and Simon chuckled. 'oh yeah, they're gonna be little naturals.' he thought.

Jace whined and mentally begged Simon not to let the kids spoon feed him, but if anything the chance to pass on his knowledge made Simon even MORE teasing, which was something Jace didn't think was possible. Simon showed the boys how to tie a bib around the babies neck, explaining how important it was to use a good enough knot it wouldn't come off, but not so good you had to cut it loose after. "If I had brought some of his extra bibs, you could of practiced with your little guys." Simon smirked. Jace's heart went out for the blonds as they paled a little at that, and they seem to be trying to decide whether to run or stick around. "It's ok. I think their dad would be mad if they came back wearing a teddy bear bib anyways." Keith said. "they again maybe not. you know he's always saying what messy eaters they are." Kevin added. "Guysssss!" the twins whined in unison and pouted. "ok, that was cute. Now if Jace isn't a total little piggy like he normally is." Simon said and Jace whined at that, and pouted much like the twins were. "And there's any baby food left, you can split whats left between your little guys there, and they can take turns with the bib." "What!?" Alex yelped. "No way!" Jacob added. "Sounds good." Kevin and Alex said in unison. As Jace locked eyes with the twins, they gave him a pleading look and despite knowing just how bloated and gassy he'd get, Jace knew he had to take a bullet for them. 'god I'm gonna be farting like crazy!' Jace groaned. it didn't help he already had 5 pieces of high fiber toast that had been coated in apples and banana flavored baby food for breakfast and a big bottle on top of that. No two was about it, before they left the park Jace was gonna be filling his diapers. "Now you wanna get a fair amount, but not too much on the spoon." Simon was saying, snapping Jace out of his thoughts about his impending boom butt. "Jace here is a bigger boy so he can take more, but every baby really has a different amount." Jace looked at the heaping piled Kevin had on the spoon, and looked over to Simon, silently pleading with daddy to at least get the amount cut down, but Simon just winked and took a bite out of a chicken leg. "I know what to do next. Seen this enough on TV." Kevin said and then switching to a baby talk voice voice added. "Here comes the airplane~ Open widddde!"

Simon almost choked on his chicken as Kevin talked, he knew how much Jace HATED that bit and was nice enough to spare him that much. He flashed the big baby a look that said 'play nice' and Jace like a good big baby opened his mouth as big as he could. Sadly (or was that amusingly?) with the heap of mush on the spoon, there was no way it was going to fit all in Jace's mouth and purple mush dribbled down his chin. "oh crud uh.." Kevin looked over his shoulder to Simon, as Jace closed his mouth and swallowed what had made it in, and made a little face. "use the spoon and get what you can off of his chin and into his mouth." Simon instructed, taking a sip  of his drink. "Oh ok!" Kevin said. It took awhile for the boy to get his rhythm down but soon he was stuffing Jace's face like a pro even as Jace started to burp now and then, which made Kevin make a face. "you think that's bad, wait till it comes out the other end." Simon commented. "why don't you boys switch so Keith can get a turn in. and Alex, Jacob..My little guys looking awfully full already, hope your hungry." The twins shared a whimper and were holding each others hands, though Simon noted they didn't try and run for their dad. either they didn't think they could outrun their daddies to be, or while they were scared and nervous, they on some level wanted to be Jace and were rooted to the spot. Either way, Simon had a hunch next time he saw them they'd be sporting diapers. Keith took a different approach to feeding Jace and it didn't take long to figure it out. The Brown haired boy was a tormentor, plain and simple and it showed as he kept missing Jace's mouth on purpose and smudging the food on Jace's cheeks, and would scold him for it. "No no no you silly big baby! Stay still! it's like you wanna wear your din din!" Keith teased and Jace whined loudly and looked to Simon for help. Simon pretended to be interested in a game of soccer that was going on near by instead. "I think your baby is full mister. he just doesn't wanna eat anymore." Keith said, looking at Simon then over at the blonds. "N-No! I hungee!" Jace cried out, and Kieth pouted a little. "I think he's just fussy because he wants daddy to feed him. you boys have been a big help but I better take over." Simon said, he was finished eating anyways. "besides, any second now the fart factory is gonna-" Simon was cut off as a massively long and loud despite the padding fart filled the air and the boys went from laughing to holding their noses. "Yeahhh that." Simon chuckled. "Side effect of the baby food." "Oh god, it's like ten million farts in one!" Keith gagged. "Or worse!" Kevin added. Adorably the twin's only commented on it by saying stinky, though there eyes were watering too. "Is that what they'll smell like if they eat that?" Kevin asked, waving a hand in front of his face but jerking a thumb at the twins. "Pretty much. I'd go with oatmeal if you want them not as rotten." Simon suggested. "Should I take that to mean you don't want one of the remaining jars?" "Uh..I mean..it's a really generous offer..But..we all drove over here together and.." Kevin started "We'll all die in the car if the twins are ripping out back door bombs like that!" Keith finished. "W-we wouldn't be that bad!" Alex huffed and crossed his arms, Jacob following suite and adding "Yeah!" "...Wait..do you dorks WANNA eat baby food?" Keith asked, seemingly forgetting about the stink in the air as he grinned. The twin's seemed to realized that had just tried to argue in favor of it and Alex covered his mouth while Jacob shook his head. "NO!" "looks like you boys have some things to figure out. Thanks for feeding the baby." Simon said and took a couple of 20's out of his wallet and handed one to each boy. they went to say thank you but anther back door bomb ripped out of Jace's backside and they took off running instead. "Cute kids. gonna have to get used to stinkers though if they wanna be be daddies." Simon commented, then turned his attention back to Jace who let out a burp. "then again..subjecting them to your funk when they're just starting is like teaching someone to swim by tossing them in shark infested waters." "DADDY!"

With the rest of the baby food in Jace and his ba-ba, the poor baby had a bloated tummy and was pooting up a storm. Simon had been forced to take the onise off of him with his big Jace's tummy tum had gotten and had tickled his sides till Jace wet himself. In just his socks and shoes and Barbie diapers, Jace was getting lots of attention though no one came too close, his poots were like a fog horn warning people to keep their distance. "you know, I was hoping to help you make some friends today but your butt is scaring them all away stinker." Simon teased. "I sowwy." Jace whined, rubbing a eye. After a month of training Jace was conditioned to get sleepy after a big meal. "well we'll go play in the sandbox for a little bit, then go home ok buddy?" "But sweepy daddy." Jace whined, eyes drooping and nuzzling into Simon. "Already? are you sure you don't wanna play on the slide or the swings or something like a big kid?" Simon asked, smirking. "No Big -yawn- kid. Just Jace. sweepy." The blond baby said, almost stumbling now and so Simon stopped and picked him up, setting his head on his shoulder and a arm under his butt, carrying the basket and Chase was tucked inside. "I guess we can go home. I hope you had fun today buddy." Simon said and kissed the big babies cheek, then whispered. "Because we'll be coming here a lot more often." "Ngggh.. yesh..daddy." Jace mumbled, and then drifted off to sleep, even as a series of wet farts erupted from his back side and the back of the babies diapers bloomed out. "oh I see. go sleepies and leave me stuck with changing you. really nice." Simon teased but as he headed for the car he had to admit, he didn't really mind. He was tempted to stop and change Jace on a table, but then spotted a older looking couple talking to a police officer and pointing over at them, and decided that could wait for anther day and not to give the cop a reason to hassle them.. as long as Jace's diapers stayed on he wasn't naked in public. Thankfully the cop seemed to agree as they weren't hassled on their way to the car, though before he went to put Jace in his car seat, Simon was treated to one last cute site. Kevin and Keith chasing the twins, holding onto a couple of towels each and having safety pins. 'Damn. now I really wish I could stay.' Simon thought and chuckled. there was always next weekend.

The end, fer now

[danetobelieve]

Bies Bitch || Jared and Winston

When: Early May 2020 Who: @themidnightfarmer & @danetobelieve Where: Jared’s farm. Summary: Flashback to when Jared was first back and Winston and he did the spider-man meme Warnings: None

Winston had to admit they’d always found the fences weird. Not that they’d ever really spent that long at Jared’s farm. They’d known each other since high school, thanks to introductions via Nell. When their old friend had gotten back in contact after being out of town for a while, Winston had been pleased to hear that they were back. As their wheels turned at a slow pace and Winston heard their car struggle along the dirt road, they once again cursed it for being such an old piece of shit. Although they loved their car dearly, it really sucked. It was far too prone to break down and this was perhaps testing the limits. Some generic, incredibly non descript animals grazed in wide open fields which was also weird. Winston was sure that farms were generally set up in some semblance of order but it was just fields. Pulling up outside of the farmhouse, Winston turned the keys in the ignition and the car fell silent. Slipping out of the car they headed to the front door, texting Jared to let him know they’d arrived.

Jared had shot the text off to Winston and then set in about his chores now that he was home. He had no illusions that they wouldn’t head over to say hello, they were good like that. He’d always be glad that Nell had introduced them to Jared. He’d gotten some good friends out of sticking up for Nell at that party all those years ago. The phone in his pocket vibrated and he made his way around the house from the greenhouse around the back, wiping off his hands on his pants of the soil from where he’d been repotting some of the few crops that had grown over the winter unsupervised. “Hey!” He called out as he bounded up the step onto the porch and made his way over around the boxes stacked up there. “Good winter? How are you Winston?” Jared beamed. 

Their fist had been raised to knock on the door and they heard him, Winston turned and beamed in his direction before raising a hand to wave their friend over. Giving him a quick, if not slightly awkward hug (as was Winston’s way) they stepped back and nodded. “Yeah, the winter was fine, it has been a bit of a weird time, we had fish raining from the sky and then some weird crab things but hopefully things will calm down now.” Winston smiled and shrugged. “Honestly though it’s really good to see you, how are you doing?” Winston asked curiously. “Where did you go in the end?” 

The nymph gave them a good few gentle thumps on the back during the hug and then crossed his arms leaning back to prop himself up on the porch fence. “I heard about that, complete madness, but what else do you get in this town right?” he laughed. It was all he could do really, as far as he knew Winston didn’t know about anything like that, so to act like it wasn’t a big deal was the best route. It was the same with the next question as well, Jared loathed to lie, so he always stuck to half truths where they were concerned. “I’m doing pretty great, it’s nice to be home you know?” Jared started before subtly looking away to start fabricating a little. “Went across the border, hiking you know. It’s like the wind just took me all the way.” He glanced back and grinned at them, “Sounds pretty solidly hippy vibes right? You can laugh. I won’t hold it against you.” 

Raising an eyebrow gently, Winston wondered if it was safe to say something about the cursed chest on the beach or the fact that they could do magic. Things you’d normally share with friends. But they’d learned that there were things which were better left unsaid. It wasn’t always the right move to include someone in the supernatural world if they weren’t completely ready for it. Winston didn’t want to risk that with Jared. “Yeah, I guess this town has always had all kinds of weird in it, just wasn’t sure that I was ready for that kind of weird, y’know?” Shrugging gently, Winston did their best not to chuckle. “I was actually pretty impressed that you just went hiking without a plan before you started saying you sounded like a hippy and now I can’t help but agree with you. You’re your own worst. Enemy.”

Jared made a noise of disgruntled dismay, head rolling back to look at the ceiling. “I played myself, I played myself and led you right into it.” He snorted a short laugh and turned pleading puppy dog eyes on them. “Winston… can you forget I said that and go back to thinking I’m cool? I’m cool right? I’m really cool.” he whinged lightly, clasping his hands together and jutting his bottom lip out at his friend. “Tell me I’m still cool, pleeeeease?” He was hamming it up, putting it on as dramatically as he could in hopes of collecting at least a laugh for his efforts if not an admission that he was cool. That was how it alway was.

Snorting with laughter, Winston grinned at Jared and nodded. “You definitely played yourself and I’m about to play myself by agreeing that we forget about this, because if out of the two of us I am actually the one who is cool then we’re both in trouble.” Winston had never been cool. Not that they needed to be. They’d learned long ago that popularity was a farce.  “You’re very very cool, the coolest person that I know really.” It was true. Jared had always just done it a little easier. The athletic build, blonde hair and good looks definitely would’ve helped with that. But generally Winston and Jared had always clicked well together because Jared was a good guy and Winston appreciated that. “I hope this isn’t a bad time or anything, you’re not too busy with chores or something?”

Jared gave an easy smile when they agreed to let his slip up slide on by with no further acknowledgment. “Oh come on, you’re cool! I think you’re cool and I make the rules on this farm. And don’t let Nell hear you say that, she’ll insist she’s far cooler,” The nymph insisted himself, waving a hand and then giving a guilty shrug of one shoulder. “There’s always chores to be done around here. Farm and all, the work is never done.” He stood back up properly then, waving a hand and willing Winston to follow him. “Especially since I was gone all winter, but I’m back now. You don’t mind telling me what you’ve been up to while I change some fastenings on the barn doors do you? I can talk and work, or rather listen and work. I want to hear what you’ve been doing while I was gone, fish rain and all.”

Raising an eyebrow, Winston flashed a quick smile before nodding. “You’re a very convincing speaker Jared, maybe you should consider going into some form of politics. But yes, let’s avoid inflating Nell’s ego anymore then we absolutely have to. None of us need to have to deal with that.” Of course they were joking. There was quite literally no one in the world that they felt deserved the confidence they exuded. “Everytime I hear about everything that you have to do on the farm, the more convinced I am that I never ever want to live the farm life.” Winston wasn’t cut out for outdoor living. “Of course not,” Winston said with an easy shrug, “I can even try and help, not really sure how you change fastenings on barn doors but if there’s something I can do. I’m not as incompetent as I look I promise.” Winston was joking of course. They were aware of their level of competence. But self deprecating humour was better then having a personality sometimes. 

“The most convincing speaker. Since I’m the coolest person you know I have to be the best most convincing speaker as well right?” Jared was mostly just playing around, well aware he was not the most eloquent. “You take that back, living on this farm is a delight!” He gasped, placing a hand over his heart dramatically. “MY farm is a place of joy and wonder Winston, I won’t hear this kind of talk!” But hearing the offer to help Jared changed his tune rapidly. “But if you’re willing to lend a hand, I could hold the door and you could take out the screws? Easy as pie, I could do it myself but then I’d run the risk of the door taking me down.” He spoke with a little too much experience behind the comment for there to be any misconceptions about how he’d know that for sure. Jared was certain it was safe for Wiston to come with him to the closest barn to the house, a few straggling bies from the herd were in view nearby, but not close enough to be a worry. In any case they’d be hopefully distracted helping with the hardware, and not have time to notice.

“That is definitely how it works,” Winston grinned, “you’ve got a plus five charisma modifier which makes you both a great public speaker but also the coolest guy in the room. I understand. Tell me, when do you plan to run for president?” They winked and laughed. Jared was one of the easiest people to be around and in so many ways he set Winston at ease. “I’m sure that you love it, but look at yourself and then look at me and tell me that the farm is the kind of environment that I am going to excel in.” Following them over to the barn, Winston nodded. “As long as you’re the one that is doing all of the heavy lifting then I can definitely handle a few screws, besides no one wants you to hurt yourself trying to repair a barn door, that would be kind of tragic and I don’t think Nell would ever forgive me.” They winked gently as they glanced at the livestock in the field. Were they a little … weird? Winston blinked a few times before Jared caught their attention again. 

“My campaign will begin as soon as I can find a babysitter for my kids, then I’ll be a shoe in.” Jared grinned, winking right back. The nymph fully and comically looked down at himself, and then glanced over Winston with an exaggerated head nod. “The farm is the kind of environment you would excel in.” He tells them with a matter of fact tone and another firm nod before he chuckled to himself and shrugged. “To each their own I guess, but no more rudeness about the farm, my farm is beautiful you hear me?” he warned playfully pointing a finger over his shoulder while they moved. Jared missed the way Winston's eyes flickered to the nearby bies, one of the creatures raising it’s massive head as they passed but otherwise doing nothing, it’s third eye closed for the moment against the sun. They reached the first barn and Jared wrenched one of the doors open with a bit of difficulty. “See the hinges on this door need changed, they’ve been bent wrong and now it’s a nightmare. If I hold it with the door half open you can try and unscrew it?”

“I am sure that as a presidential candidate they can provide you with some highly qualified farmers to look after all of your fur babies.” Winston laughed outloud. It was really good to see their friend again. Raising an eyebrow at Jared’s frankly bold claim, Winston laughed. “I guess I’ll have to keep coming to visit you and we’ll find out if I warm to the farmer’s life. You’ll have me in denim overalls with a straw hanging out of the corner of my mouth in no time I’m sure. The moose-cow things seemed to be getting large each time Winston glanced at them. They’d gone from being baby cow sized, to donkey sized, to horse sized and was that a third eye. No. Winston was clearly stressed or something. They pulled their glasses off and polished them nervously. “I agree, your farm is beautiful.” Grinning again, Winston spotted a tool box and grabbed a screw driver. “Yeah, if you can lift it so there’s less tension on the hinges then I think that’s fine, it doesn’t look like the actual screws are bent out of shape or anything.” 

Jared gave Winston a quick laugh and a grin, oh if only they knew just how ‘qualified’ any babysitters would have to be. “I’ll put you to work, you can help me with all sorts of things around here, mark my words, we'll have time to make you outdoorsy!” He paused then and added “of course if not I suppose we’ll just start meeting at your place. But the overalls are a must, if you’re not in overalls next time we meet there’s going to be a confrontation.” With that Jared set to work lifting the door, he made a small show of it being ‘heavy’ and huffing and puffing for Winston's amusement, when in actuality he had quite a bit of built up strength from similar jobs like this around the place. “Need to take the whole door off, and then put new fittings on.” he told them as he held the door ajar. The nymph had no idea that behind him the illusion was failing on the nearby bies. The mass of them getting bigger before Winstons eyes as the glamour was only made to fool those who had no connection to/ or no thoughts of harm for his animals. And just as Winston was becoming more aware, so was the nearest bies, it’s third eye opening and it’s head turning towards the barn

“I don’t know if I want to become outdoorsy,” Winston replied with a bright smirk. “But you’re welcome to try and convert me to the darkside.” Winston couldn’t imagine themselves in overalls, but now they were determined to use it as a joke around Jared. “Overalls, that is something I can manage, absolutely,” Winston grinned, “I won’t you let you down my dude.” As Winston crouched down and began unscrewing the door, they couldn’t help but notice the large supernatural creature that was appearing before their very eyes. It seemed to get larger in front of their very eyes and did it have a third eye? The colour slowly drained from their face and Winston’s jaw got slack. “Jared, dude, I don’t want to freak you out, but there’s something behind you.” The bies seemed to not like Winston, as it locked eyes with them, all three eyes. Winston dropped the screw driver and stepped in front of Jared and drew into their well of energy. “Stay behind me.”

“Oh I’ll convert you Winston, don’t you worry. It might not have happened yet but one day I’ll have you driving the tractor, or guiding the horses.” Jared might have been getting a little carried away, imagining his friend integrated into the little bits of farm life that wasn’t too dangerous for them. The smile on his face reflected that as Winston agreed that overalls were potentially in their future. He was so lost in thought that when Winston spoke he was too distracted to really understand what they were saying. “The cattle? Don’t worry about them, they won’t give us hassle.” He answered idly. The mood changed however when he finally focused in on what was actually occurring behind him. Winston was shielding him with their body, he dropped the door and turned as well. He noticed then that one of his charges had locked onto Winston, all three eyes and Jared felt a cold sweat start to form. The beast raised it’s spine as if an imitation of an angry cat, teeth baring at Winston and the strange aura they were giving off all of a sudden. It was squaring up to the human as these beasts’ tended to do when they sensed a threat, and that’s what was continuing to distract Jared as the threat level rose “You can see her?” he whispered, likely too low to be heard. 

Sparks flew from Winston’s palms as they did their best to remember how they had previously accessed their magic. They knew that they were meant to be new to this and because of this it might not be as easy as they hoped, but it didn’t really matter now it seemed like Jared was in danger and if Winston could do something to help their friend then they were going to. “Cattle?” Winston asked incredulously, “That’s not cattle dude it is huge and has three ey-” then it all clicked into place and the sparks that Winston had tried to form into something more powerful then just sparks sputtered out of existence. “Wait, you - what do you mean i can see her?” Winston frowned gently at Jared. Was it possible that this was someone else who had known about this all along? Probably. Was it possible that this was someone else who had known before them. Apparently. “You know don’t you?” 

The sparks shocked Jared, his eyes followed their movement for a moment completely transfixed. He was spurred into action when it was very clear that Winston was well aware of what they were looking at. Jared moved his body between the beast and Winston this time. He raised his own hands in surrender in the hopes that whatever Winston was planning would be halted by the action. “Well uh….usually people just see what I provide for them.” Jared admitted looking at Winston with a newfound curiosity. “You have for a long time, definitely did before I left for my trip.” He was having all sorts of mixed feelings, a sense of elation filled him, but it was marred with the knowledge that their initial reaction had been to fight. “I uh...yeah I know...and you do too?”

Looking at Jared, Winston whipped off their glasses and rubbed their eyes exhaustedly. This was almost too much. “Uh, yeah, I guess I used to just see … glamorous right?” They asked curiously. They had read about that in the library with Orion. “I, right after New Year I was attacked by this dog thing, it breathed fire and had spikes on it and I …” Winston swallowed trying to think of the very best way to explain it, “I uh, you know I managed to fight it off because I accidentally used magic and then, yeah, I know…. How did you find out?” It was starting to occur to Winston as Jared stood between them and the beast, which didn’t seem upset by that at all that Jared had probably known for a long time. 

His head nodded at Winstons assumption about the masking that had been placed on the beast behind him. Jared made a worried sort of noise hearing that they had been attacked by something, cringing a second later at the thought of an untamed magical outburst being let loose on the creature. “Guess cat’s out of the bag now huh?” Jared laughed awkwardly for a moment, an uncomfortable expression crossing his features. “Found out I wasn’t human when I was ten.” He lowered his arms and crossed them instead while looking at Winston for a reaction. He couldn’t imagine his friend having a severe negative reaction, but things changed, they might fundamentally disagree with his existence, or in more simply frown on what he was doing. It was all up in the air at that moment, so Jared laid the rest out for full consideration, to be accepted and then lose Winston anyway further down the line would be crushing. Best get it over with now. “Nymph. Vicious creatures.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder at the bies who had now lost interest now that Jared was in the way and had gone back to wandering looking for scraps. “I...the whole farm is full of them...I protect them…”

“Wow, wait,” Winston hadn’t considered that maybe Jared wasn’t human. They just thought that he had known about all of this. “Fuck, that’s so fucking cool, you’re like a nymph? Like from mythology and fantasy and shit. Goddamn dude that is the coolest.” Winston couldn’t help the grin. It wasn’t that they were over excited (they were) it was more that their good friend was a nymph. A fucking nymph. Their heart raced with the excitement and Winston couldn’t help but smile gently. “You’ve got a whole farm full of monsters that you protect ….” Winston grinned, “Dude that’s the coolest shit that anyone has ever told me, get me some overalls because I am suddenly ready for farm life….” Winston was amazed, “... if you protect these things that must mean you could like introduce me to them, like literally and also as to what the hell that actually is, do you know a lot about that stuff?” 

Their reaction was so overwhelmingly positive that Jared actually felt a bit emotional. Masking it poorly he beamed back at Winston with very slightly glassy eyes. “Told you I was cool.” He joked weakly “and you humoured me, who’s laughing now.” he added playfully punching Winston on the arm. “I’ll get you steel toe capped boots, a tractor licence and a hat in celebration.” The barn door was completely forgotten as Jared allowed himself to turn and face the same direction as Winston, bumping shoulders with them. The rest of the protective glamour would melt away for Winston. They knew now, there was no need for it. “I’ve learned a lot since I found out I was tied to them. They’re still not ‘safe’ for humans to be around alone, I raise them wild so that if they migrate they can without worrying about them...I didn’t actually go hiking, I was following a herd over the border for winter migration.” he admitted. There would be an awful lot they could share with each other now. It was freeing. “I’d love to tell you about my kids, and you can tell me all about what you’ve been actually doing since new years.” Jared grinned as his pack of hedgehounds emerged from the trees. “There’s a lot to talk about huh?”

“I never really thought that you weren’t cool, you were always like my coolest friend at school.” Winston wasn’t lying either. They had a lot of time for Jared. Raising an eyebrow gently, Winston smiled. “Oh god, a tractor license? Are those actually a thing … I don’t know why I would think that they weren’t a thing but they don’t sound like they should be a thing.” Winston grinned. This was so cool. As the Bies became more and more clear to them, Winston realised that they had been missing all of this information for years. The supernatural world was amazing. Denial was amazing too. There was no other way Winston could explain it. “You migrated with a bunch of monsters?” Winston asked incredulous, “That is just super badass, I guess we also don’t call them monsters, do we prefer furry friends or?” Winston grinned, excited by this new discovery. “I would really love for you to tell me about all of your friends, and maybe help me learn more about them?” Winston had seen a hedgehound before, when they were with Blanche, but these seemed a bit more chill. “I do know what those are though, how do you stop them from trying to kill you?” `

“I was kidding about the license, you can take the tractor any time.” Winston's enthusiasm was catching as they started to ask questions. Questions that Jared was more than happy to answer, you would never catch him unwilling to gush about his animals after all. “I migrated with a herd of Sianach this winter, last winter I followed a Kerashag that was passing through. You know….when I told you I was skiing.” There would be a lot of lies to untangle Jared then realized with a wince. He was glad Winston was so accepting otherwise all the lies might start stacking up. “We prefer ’the kids’, at least I do, Nell followed my lead I think.” He gave Winston a shifty look. “Nell knows about the place and all the bits. She found out just after I left school when you two were still there… I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. It was just sort of a case of that I didn’t want to drag you into things you didn’t need to worry about you know?” Jared threw a tentative arm over Winstons shoulders. “But hey, a healthy respect and an even healthier distance is a human's best friend.” He joked.

“I don’t know if I want to take the tractor without a license now,” Winston replied with a smirk, it was fascinating that so many of their friends from high school were so intricately wrapped up in the supernatural. “Woah, dude that’s crazy, if you ever go on one of those that won’t kill me and is also not going to take a few months, that sounds really fascinating. I never knew that people kept these creatures as cattle or livestock or whatever reason you keep them.” Winston felt like they had suddenly been introduced to a brand new world and they were really starting to learn so much about their old friend. “Cool, the kids it is, wow, so obviously Nell knows too, but please don’t apologise, I would never hold it against you not outting yourself and what you do and who you are to a human who you don’t know if they’ll freak out. I’ll be honest with you, when I did find out, about the magic, about everything. There was some serious denial. I pretended it wasn’t happening for like two whole weeks.” 

“If I go on a migration? Come on Win-win you just assured me you weren’t an outdoorsy person. I don’t take a tent with me, It’s all sleeping on the ground and eating beans. Think that’s your speed?” Jared teased them. “Oh I don't think a lot of people keep them. But they’re good for saliva and other exretions, when they die they leave behind a few very expensive pieces. I mostly just keep them around to keep them safe though. They’re either rescues, or wanderers around here.” Jared looked at Winston in amusement. “Full on denial huh? Can’t blame you, you know my family still think I’m human.” He gave out a booming laugh. “I was a weird kid but that means nothing around here I guess.” Jared looked back at the door and waved a hand dismissively. “Let’s get lunch? I want to hear about what you’ve really been up to.”

“I think that if you’re given the opportunity to watch supernatural creatures migrate like wildebeest across the savannah then I can deal with eating beans and sleeping on the floor, besides just because you don’t do it properly doesn’t mean I have to copy exactly what you’re doing.” Winston wasn’t going to go down without a fight. “Wow, so you just had to be extra and keep creatures that aren’t normally kept. I hope you’re proud of yourself because I am very proud. This is fucking amazing.” Winston grinned, this was a whole new side of Jared that Winston had never seen but they approved of. “Do you plan to tell them?” Winston asked curiously, perhaps a bit too nosey, “Sorry, ignore that, you can do whatever it’s none of my business.” Grinning they shrugged. “Let’s get lunch,” Winston agreed enthusiastically, “apparently we really need to catch up.”

#bies bitch #wickedwriting #para #p: jared #chatzy #chatzy para

[noneya-business-me]

Sticks and stone may break my bones but that doesn't mean you're not a snake

Out of all the things that his friends had dragged him out to do, mall visits were always the worst. He grumbled adjusting his sunglasses as Mina bumped into him for the 20th time in the last five minutes. “Let’s go in there!” Kaminari said, making the group follow him into yet another clothing store.

“Are you seriously going for the e-boy thing?” Kirishima laughed, looking at the various shades of black around the store.

Bakugou groaned but held up a few shirts for the electric user to take to the dressing room. “You’re really good with fashion Bakugou!” Mina complimented, “you have to pick some stuff out for me too!”

“You have no idea.” He huffed, rubbing at his temples, “I just want to get some stuff from the supplement store.”

“We’ll go there next.” Sero stated, “we’ve been dragging you around for long enough.”

He called into the dressing room for Kaminari to hurry up. He was pretty thankful that his friends were starting to understand his moods and body language. He wasn’t sure how much more he would last until he blew up.

Outside the store was getting louder and louder for some reason, and he groaned again when he thought about having to go back out there.

“I’m going to try some stuff on quickly, I’ll catch up with you guys in a minute,” Kirishima stated, pulling a sweater off one of the hangers. The blonde stared at his boyfriend in confusion.

“Are you sure?” Mina asked, raising a brow in his direction.

The redhead nodded, “I won’t be long at all.”

Kirishima gave Bakugou a reassuring nod, prompting him to follow their friends out of the store. The blonde rolled his eyes but complied.

It quieted down significantly as they stepped out before Mina sucked in a breath and started squealing. “What the hell is that noise?” Bakugou snapped, glaring at her.

“I-it’s Ashton Laurier!” She was grinning wide.

Bakugou’s eyes widened, and his eyebrow twitched as his gaze snapped over to where she was pointing. He would recognize that painfully obnoxious pose anywhere. He always hated the way the other's wavy brown hair was cut, with one side longer than the other. Seeing it again was already making him want to grab a pair of scissors and even it out.

“I’m going over to ask him for a picture.” She stated, hurrying over before the blonde could grab her.

He grit his teeth, stomping over towards them. His friends seemed equally excited, which in turn made him want to barf.

By the time he got over there, Mina was already gushing to the rodent about how much she loved his work. “Wow, Ashton I’m so glad they were able to dig you up to make an appearance today.” Bakugou stated, inspecting his manicure, “from the looks of you I guess they didn’t give you much time to freshen up.”

“Excuse me-“ the other whirled around to stare at Bakugou, before he smirked, “Oh hi Katsuki. I love the dye job, it really matches the box.”

The squad's mouths dropped open and their eyes widened. “Holy shit,” Sero whispered.

“He called him Katsuki.” Mina wheezed, grabbing over her heart like she was having a heart attack.

“I heard your fourth nose job was free. You gotta love those free punch cards!” Bakugou stated tightly, his posture smug, “hey next time why don’t you call me, and I can do it for free.”

The brunette’s hand flew to cover his nose as he snarled. His blue eyes narrowing.

“You sound like a Neanderthal,” he spat, “good thing you have the forehead to match.”

Bakugou gaped, his own hand flying to his forehead. The two of them snarled at each other.

“Do you know each other?” Mina asked, looking between them in confusion.

The tension was thick between the two as they glowered at each other.

“Oh, you didn’t tell your little friends about me?” Ashton cooed, with a smirk.

“I don’t make a habit of talking about the garbage I leave backstage.” Bakugou jeered, putting his hands firmly on his hips.

The brunette growled.

“C’mon man seriously.” Kaminari whined, “you know a celebrity and you didn’t even tell us!”

The blondes glare snapped over to Kaminari with an expression of Shut the fuck up you fuckface all over it.

“Yeah, that’s right Katsuki.” Ashton smirked, “you know a celebrity.”

“Piss off you dumpster goblin.” The blonde growled, a sneer marring his face.

“Oh wow, that’s the face that landed me the front cover of AllPro Fashion.” The model stated smugly.

Bakugou grit his teeth painfully, “that was my spread and you know it!” He snarled, “you know what the fuck you did.”  

The blonde took a deep breath, before composing himself with a confident air. “Too bad that was your first and last big shoot. When was it? Four years ago?”

“Whatsit matter to you, has been?” Ashton snapped back, his smirk disappearing.

“I’m just saying you’re second rate, that’s a big accomplishment for you.” Bakugou hummed, “you should be proud.”

“Where the hell is Kiri? I can’t believe he’s missing this.” Sero wheezed, pulling out his phone to try and capture the moment.

The other model’s face screwed up even more. “Oh, don’t look so sour Ashton, you should be coming into a large sum of money soon.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” He seethed.

“Well, I mean if I had a face like yours, I would sue my parents.” He stated smugly, as his friends started wheezing around him, “therefore you don’t have to be sad about the lack of work.”

“This is incredible.” Kaminari huffed, out trying to hold himself up.

“Who knew Blasty had it in him,” Mina added.

“Blasty? That’s cute.” Ashton stated, “you don’t like the nickname I gave you?”

“Don’t.”

“I really liked wobbles.” He stated with a smirk.

He seemed to get a second wave of confidence as  he started getting up in the explosion heroes space while the blondes own confident air started to fade a bit.  

“Wobbles?” Kaminari asked.

Bakugou shot him a glare as Ashton’s smirk grew wider. “During a runway a couple of years ago, Katsuki was coming out of the curtain in a pair of heels and was wobbling so bad he fell over.”

“You tripped me you asshole.” Bakugou snapped back, his body shifting into pure defence mode, “Do you have any idea how that affected my career?”

“Why should I care?” Ashton replied, “besides I got a good nickname out of it. As far as I know, a lot of people still call you that.”

The blonde's eyes widened before his brows furrowed in thought.

“Anyways, it’s been great chatting with you, but it really hasn’t.” Ashton said, flinging his bags over his shoulder, “I have to get ready for my next job.”

Bakugou rolled his eyes, crossing his arms in annoyance. “My agent’s lining up a huge shoot with Himariyuki fashion.” The brunette shared in a smug tone.

His face twisted in glee as Bakugou’s face fell blank and stared at the other before he started to laugh.

“Oh my god! You seriously don’t realize who my “agent” is, do you?” He wheezed, “the agent that you made cry years ago?”

“What about him?!” Ashton snapped back, his face becoming redder and redder. He was unsure if it was in anger or embarrassment.  

“He’s my dad! And the co-owner of Himariyuki fashions.” He laughed, holding his stomach as he tried to suck in gasps of oxygen, “dude you doomed your career the second you decided to be a dick to him. Sorry, but my dad basically vowed never to endorse you in the company.”

The blonde was still cackling when the first shove happened. His eyes widened in shock before narrowing with a feral grin. “You have no idea who you’re messing with.”

“Oh, shit this is about to get real.” Kaminari whistled, backing up with the rest of the group.

“I know a bitch when I see one at least!” Ashton yelled, an ugly glowers on his face now.  

“Why are you guys still here?” Kirishima’s voice suddenly cutting through the tension, “I thought you were heading over to the supplement store.”

Almost immediately Ashton’s glower disappeared, and his kind mask was put back on display.

“Oh, and who are you?” Ashton asked, seemingly forgetting that Bakugou and the rest of his friends existed.

He brought up a hand to trail down Kirishima’s arm. “Do you work out?” He asked, with a smile.

“Um, yeah.” The redhead replied, looking between his friends and the stranger.

“You sure as hell look like it.” Ashton stated moving in closer, “how about you and I-“

“Taken already moron.” Bakugou hissed, grabbing Kirishima’s arm and putting it around his own waist, “let’s get out of here.”

The brunette stared at them in shock before growling, “you better watch your back Wobbles!”

The blonde rolled his eyes, as they continued to walk away. “Wobbles?” Kirishima asked a hint of amusement in his voice.

“It’s a long fucking story.” Bakugou replied, “you really had to be there. Did you get what you wanted?”

“I can say for sure that you missed the best show ever Kiri. I’ll send the video in the group chat,” Sero stated, “but seriously what was that?”

The blonde sighed, “Ashton had unfortunately been around about as long as Deku but with modelling jobs and stuff. We’ve been in a bunch of ads and stuff together over the years.”

They exited the mall heading towards the train station. “I really liked doing modelling jobs and stuff when I was a kid, but he’s the one that ruined it for me. If you’re wondering why I’m such as asshole it’s because of that guy.” He grunted, “when I was just about to enter middle school, dad took me to one of my shoots. I was just coming off the set when I saw him talking to my dad.”

His shoulders seemed to slump as he continued talking about his father. “I don’t know what he said to him, dad won’t tell me, but it was about me. Whatever he said to him really upset him and made him cry.” He bit at his lip, “I really started to resent him since then, and I wanted to get out of modelling completely but sometimes I’ll do campaigns just because I miss it.”

They situated themselves on the train, heading back towards the dorms. It was a little later at night, so their group was the only ones on the car, “Did you know that Bakugou modelled?” Mina asked, turning her attention to Kirishima.

“Yeah?” He replied, raising a brow at her, “it’s kind of obvious.”

“How in the world is it obvious?!” She whined, “it doesn’t count because you’re he’s your boyfriend.”

“There’s literally a poster of him right behind you.” He replied, pointing behind her.

She whirled around and sure enough, Bakugou’s face was staring back at her. He had a baggy black shirt tucked into some high waisted black pants. It seemed like an ad for a perfume or something, at least that’s the vibe it gave off. “They’re all over the city.” Kirishima mused, “maybe you’re blind to them because he’s your friend?”

“Man, you must be such an attentive boyfriend.” Kaminari sighed.

“I don’t know.” Kirishima hummed, “am I an attentive boyfriend, Kat?”

“Shut up,” Bakugou grumbled with a blush dusting his cheeks.

They soon made it back to the dorms. They had intended to be back for movie night therefore everyone was gathered in the common room waiting for them. “Where have you guys been?” Midoriya asked, “we were getting worried.”

“We ran into a witch,” Bakugou replied, kicking his shoes off.

Midoriya looked at the rest of the group hoping to get some additional information. “We ran into Ashton Laurier,” Mina added.

The boy’s face seemed to blank before his cheeks puffed out in indignation. “What a jerk,” he mumbled.

“Oh my god! This is priceless!” Kaminari shrieked, “not even the broccoli boy likes him!”

“That’s not even his name!” Midoriya shouted, standing up, “he’s Japanese! Why is he using such an obviously fake name?!”

“Oohh, he’s getting heated.” Sero whistled, “how do you know that’s not his name?”

“Because I’m a freak and couldn’t leave it alone!” Midoriya replied, pulling a journal out of nowhere, “his name is Tetsuhiko Ichigawa!”

“Man, I told everyone you were a freak, but no one believed me.” Bakugou sighed with a roll of his eyes, “but this gives me even more material when I’ll unfortunately come face to face with him again.”

“SEE?! You’re welcome!” Midoriya shouted.

“You really don’t like him, do you Deku?” Uraraka asked.

“I used to go with Kaachan when he would do photoshoots and stuff, but I stopped going after a few that Ashton was at.” He replied, “the guy is a complete monster in human skin.”

“Did he make you cry too?” Kirishima asked.

“I mean who doesn’t make me cry?” Midoriya replied, raising his brows, “but yeah.”

“That’s why you stopped going?” Bakugou suddenly asked, the attention returning to him.

He looked a bit sheepish as he crossed his arms in front of himself. “Um, yeah.” Midoriya replied, “I thought you knew that.”

“You never really told me. You just - stopped.” Bakugou stated, glaring down at the ground, “I thought it was because you didn’t want to be around me anymore."

“I should have told you,” Midoriya added, nervously fiddling his fingers, “I knew he had a habit of pushing your sore spots.”

“He seemed adamant about pushing that nickname,” Mina added.

“What nickname?” Midoriya asked as Bakugou’s face blazed red.

“Wobbles.”

“Was that from that time he tripped you?” The green-haired boy asked.

“And the whole AllPro thing,” Kaminari added.

“It all ties together. It was that fashion show that Ashton tripped him at and broke his nose.” Midoriya hissed.

“He broke your nose!” Kirishima yelled.

“Yeah, he’s a little snake.” Bakugou sighed rolling his eyes, “I wasn’t hired for an entire 3 weeks because of him. I thought my mom was going to strangle him.”

“I feel like finding him and strangling him myself.” Kirishima hissed.

“It’s whatever,” Bakugou groaned, waving his hand dismissively, “it’s done already, and I fucking hate him but there’s nothing that I can do about it now.”

“Yeah, but-“ Kirishima tried to argue.

“He’s seriously not worth it Eiji.” Bakugou sighed, shaking his head.

“He said that people still call you that too,” Sero added.

The blonde bit the inside of his cheek. “I didn’t know that,” he mumbled, “I didn’t think that it even got past him.”

“For all we know he’s lying.” Midoriya tried to reassure him, “He’s a pathological liar.”

Bakugou glanced at him, a small amount of vulnerability slipping through. “Everyone seemed pretty horrified about what happened as well,” Midoriya continued, “I can’t believe that they would call you that behind your back.”

Kirishima nodded at his side, trying to reassure his boyfriend.

“Hey, just look at it this way Kat.” Kirishima cut in, wrapping his arm around his waist, “you’ve got something that he’ll never have.”

“And what’s that?” The blonde asked with a small smile, as the grip on his waist tightened.

“You have people that care about you.” He said sweetly, kissing him gently on the cheek, “and from what I saw and heard from him today, you’re leagues above him.”  

He glanced across the room at his classmates that gave him nods of approval and smiles.

The blonde grinned harder, nodding along with them, “I guess you’re right.”

--

I just wanted to post this here. A lot of people on Ao3 seemed to like it, so I wanted to share it here as well! Hope you enjoyed! If you couldn’t guess I’ve been into my hero academia more than anything else.... :) 

#bnha #mha #bakugou katsuki #Kirishima Eijirou #fanfic #model bakugou #roasts

[tessacxstello]

hello im (F, 24) an idiot and forgot to post tessa’s (F, 22, fictional) intro!

pls bare in mind most of this was written 5+ years ago n i haven’t written tessa since 2015...... but lets get this show (LOCKWOODRP) on the road (DASHBOARD). 

tw school shooting, tw bipolar disorder

art hoe. always covered in paint. why?? she bad at painting

the mark rothko jackson pollock kind of bad tho wher people are like.... omg.... revolutionary..... its a badly drawn vagina

fuckin loves astrology, but cant take it that seriously bcos one of her bfs was a gemini so there’s some lenience there. but she WILL blame her hormones and mood swings on the positon of mars

embodies pure sunshine. 

one of those really annoying people that can go through the most traumatic shit and still find a positive spin. 

cares so much for others but does not really care for herself n it’s meant she just bottles up all this shit n when someone asks her how her day has gone she just falls on the ground like tht bit in midsommar when florence does that loud wheezy noise and sits down 

has never really had much money at all. learns to make-do with what she has. loves upcycling!! her bookshelf is made from cardboard which she’s reinforced by pappering it over with pages ripped out of thrifted books. her sofa is an old car boot which she’s repainted, put on wheels and stuffed w cushions so that it’s actually bearable to sit on.

her knitted cardigan? its made out of wife material.

knits all the time. will crochet you a christmas scarf. if ur lucky you might get a knitted jumper with a penis in a santa hat

still sleeps with cuddly toys n then wonders why ppl dont think she’s mature enough for a serious relationship

very passionate about Sister Doing It For THemselves!! raised by a single mom who worked her ass off so that tessa could do fun activities after school, have lelli kelly shoes, and go to college (not necessarily in tht order of importance)

tessa was born out of wedlock as the result of an affair between her mom (a journalism intern in her early 20s) and a new york times editor. 

the editor offered to pay tessa’s mom off to have an abortion, but she was like fuck u and told the papers he’d done that and used the money to cover the cost of her internship which they refused to pay her for

and because of the scandal, he ended up going through a pretty messy divorce with his wife, and losing custody of his kids. so as a child  tessa was seen as the cause of a divorce and received mutliple letters from the editors wife (to tessa personally!) and his kids saying how she had ruined everything, but her mom moved them to another town so tessa didn’t have to deal with that crap. 

her mom worked 3 jobs to put her through school, so in return tessa pushes herself incredibly hard to succeed. needs a break and a hug and to get laid to be honest. 

an old soul. likes old films, old music, old people. only recently got an iphone 5s so not really with this century yet

very sweet and soft and kind but also a fucking mess and won’t listen to anyone else’s opinion. she’ll take comfort, but not advice. 

feminist buddhist bisexual vegetarian for human rights and animal welfare. standing on a soapbox shouting about the climate in the quad, shoving flyers into your hands. flyers everwhere. she turns up at your grandmas funeral and shoves one into her mouth. she’s stolen the mic from the vicar to talk about pandas.

says “mother of pearl” and “heavens to betsy”.

had an affair with her married piano teacher and he’s now facing a custody battle and his wife is leaving him and tessa has completely internalised that guilt despite her being the victim in the scenario

aesthetics: paint splattered jeans, loose curls spilling from a scrunchie, thrifted blouses in bright yellow, guzzling coffee in the library at three am when a term paper’s due, shoddily illustrated campaign posters to save endangered species, polaroids plastered to your bedroom walls with scribbled dates on the frames, jumping into a stack of autumn leaves, jumping off piers in the summer months and stripping off your wet clothes on the beach, digging your thumbs into peaches to leave a bruise, smoking with the extractor fan on to hide the smell, bath bombs, letting the girls at lush rub samples all over your skin, cacti with knitted bobble hats, decorative pillows and sun and moon blanket throws, basic bitch fairy lights hanging from every single window, painting the name of the boys you’ve loved inside your wardrobe door.

studies fine art and philosophy, and wants to become either a lecturer or the first woman president. vibe wise, very similar to leslie knope, missy from big mouth, and basically the naive everygirl with a high opinion of themselves trope

gets drunk off like one double vodka lemonade because she’s small and she’s a pretty messy wild drunk. it’s when slutty tessa comes out, and the next day she’ll thoroughly regret every choice made and decide she’s never drinking again and cutting out all men and starting daily sudoko

on the cheerleading team and is a flyer, which she sees as a HUGE responsibility and she works really hard to make sure she’s on it for her team. one of those get up at 7am and go to the gym before school types its sickening

she had a really traumatic time at high school because there was a shooting in her school. she was in the next classroom when it happened, and she lost one of her friends in the shooting. she had to take two months off school, was diagnosed with depression and put on anti-depressants because of it. in her 2nd year of uni she was rediagnosed with bipolar disorder and anxiety, which she’s now on medication for. she can be really good for several months at a time and feel super creative and determined (she actually finds manic periods helpful for her creativity n art, n sadly sometimes doesn’t take her meds in these periods to push herself more which is obvs super bad.....). but when the bad periods come they can also last months n she had to take a semester out of school last year because of her mood, so she should be a senior by now but she’s retaking junior year

she attends weekly stress-management sessions prescribed by her doctor which she finds pointless.

very childish in the sense that she can only see her own point of view and kind of views herself as the “protagonist” and thinks her ideas are super important and life changing and she IS Destined for Greatness! despite being pretty much average af

pinterest board.

STATS

age: 22

height: 5'2"

positive traits: kind-hearted, gregarious, selfless, philosophical, open minded, idealistic, courageous, feisty, charismatic, loyal, adventurous.

negative traits: stubborn, hot-headed, reticent, escapist, self-destructive, easily led, naive, troubled, complicated, stepford smiler, envious, overdramatic, explosive.

distinguishing Marks: heart-shaped birthmark on the right of her chest, splattering of freckles across the cheeks during summer months, full lips, large eyes, porcelain features, long wavy hair, tattoo of a bird and a cage on her ankles and a basic bitch arrow tat on her wrist (srry to anyone with an arrow tat).

skills: jack-of-all-trades, talented pianist, perceptive, knows the correct way to throw a punch, good survival instinct, is able to remain calm in stressful situations, endures, artistic, excels in academic studies, hard-working and self-motivated, expert liar and talented actress.

likes: wolves, vintage thrift store fashion, old leather-bound books, left-wing democratic politics, cigarettes, poetry, John Hughes movies, cold coffee, hot tea, the sound of laughter, staying up til 4am having deep conversations, Tchaikovsky, having deep conversations about life, stationary, DC Comics, horoscopes, winged eyeliner, cats, knee-high socks, house music, abandoned buildings, studio ghibli, the smell of the earth after rain, Wes Anderson films, herbal tea, old people, solitude, esoteric things, the smell of freshly baked bread, Charles Bukowski, the moon.

fears: death, oblivion, global warming, losing those she loves, isolation, clowns, guns, enclosed spaces.

nicknames: Tess, T-Dog, Tessie, Socrates, Princess, Sunshine Girl, Florence Nightingale.

alignment: Neutral Good

MBTI type: INFP

BIOGRAPHY

tw school shooting

Her story begins with Cordelia Costello, a twenty-three year old college drop-out, turned beautician, turned columnist, turned intern at a local publishing company. She was a youthful, beautiful, siren of a women, always surrounded by an aura of enigma and an entourage of men. It was no surprise to the gossips in the office that within six months working at the company, Cordelia had added to her list another title – mistress to Franklin Hozier, the Editor of the New York Times. After two blissful months and three hundred and twenty seven orgasms, Cordelia decided she wanted a baby. Franklin laughed in her face. Feeling isolated and used, Cordelia continued her affair with her boss’ boss for another month, before deciding to take matters into her own hands.

It started with a turkey baster.

Soon the infant cries of a baby girl graced the world, her wrinkled skin puckered and pink as her mother held her in her arms, glancing upon the most beautiful thing in her life. Once Tessa, named after Cordelia’s favourite literary heroine, entered the world, Franklin left her life and things took a turn for the better. Despite living in a rented one-bedroom apartment in Staten Island, on what little money Cordelia had saved, Tessa’s childhood years were filled with nothing but the happiest of memories. Times were tough, but what they lacked in money, the Costello’s made up in love. While Tessa was at school, Cordelia did odd jobs cleaning, child-minding, working in local nurseries, in order to save up enough money to give her daughter the best start in life.

Despite what she had been led to believe by television shows and teen movies, the first few years of High School were some of the best years of her life. Tessa threw herself into a multitude of activities that High School offered her, including the drama club, the orchestra, choir, badminton and the school newspaper. While she certainly wasn’t considered ‘popular’ at school, Tess had a wide circle of friends and acquaintances. In fact, High School was a place where she made some of the greatest memories of her life, but come her final year, it was also a place where she was haunted by some of her worst.

On the January 17th of Tessa’s senior year of high school, a shooting took place in Westville High School. For two hours Tessa locked herself in a supply cupboard, her head between her knees as she tried to stay silent despite the screams of horror from the corridor. Eighteen students were caught in the crossfire, two of which were Tessa’s best friends. Bouquets of flowers, laminated photographs, Teddy Bears in cling-film bags attached to balloons littered the streets as families and friends came to pay tribute to the eighteen students withered before they had a chance to bloom.

It took two months of therapy before Tessa could return to school. Some of the survivors could never return due to the horrors that their eyes had laid witness to. Sometimes Tessa felt like a part of her had died with the friends that were stolen from her too soon, but one thought kept her going through: she had survived, she was alive and breathing, and she could not afford to loose a second of the precious time she had been granted on this earth. Despite the nightmares that continued to haunt her each night, Tessa found in the aftermath of the disaster a new sense of motivation. She began applying for scholarships for colleges without her mother’s knowledge, in the hope that her academic success would be enough to carry her through further education. Thankfully, it was, and after three torturous months of waiting Tess was offered an arts scholarship to her dream school, Lockwood University, where she hoped she could finally start to rebuild her life.

THE PRESENT:

Life at university was like a separate world. Students came and went like moths among the whisperings and the tequila and the stars. In this new world, Tessa was exposed for the first time in her life to alcohol, drugs, and the sexual appetites of other students her age – though she politely declined all three. Instead, Tessa threw herself into the vast array of activities in the hope that by distracting herself she could escape the terrible flashbacks that continued to haunt her. Tessa joined the lacrosse team, despite never having played before, and took up cheerleading discovering a new talent; she joined the musical theatre group, and the film club, and even set up her own acapella singing society. But despite how much she tried to throw herself into student life, her past hung around her like a bad smell, and with the added pressure of the Sinking Ships zine, Tess began to feel the weight of her secret tying her down like a pair of shackles around her wrists.

PERSONALITY:

If someone was to describe Tessa in a single word, it would most likely be ‘bubbly’, ‘open-minded’ or ‘sweet’. But they would be wrong – Tessa is not bubbly, or sweet, or stubborn, or hotheaded, or fiesty, or infectious, or any of the things the world see her as, but merely a numb and lonely echo of the gregarious, halcyon girl she once was. Tessa Costello was one of life’s enigmas. No one knew who she was, for to each person she met she wore a different mask – she dripped confidence, or was painfully shy; she was an exhibitionist, or a brooding wallflower; she took things too seriously, or not seriously at all. She was an actress and the world was her stage, each person she met a different member of the audience in the performance of her life. In truth, Tessa no longer even recognised herself. Insecure, and self-destructive, she tried to hang on to the extroverted, mischievous pieces of herself that everyone had once loved, but day by day it got harder to know what lay in the vacant holes blown through her mind. While she was stubborn and hot-headed, Tessa always saw the best in people, which meant that she was easily led astray. While she had grown up learning to be street smart and astute, she was idealistic and allowed silly fantasies to cloud her mind. By nature, she was passionate, which lead her to misimagine and romanticise those she met. Despite the hell she had witnessed, and the anxiety that feasted upon her, she believed that people were innately good and that to have courage and be kind could cure anyone of their sadness – yet she was unable to cure herself.

TWITTER:

@500daysoftessa: i blame disney films and musicals for my high expectations of men

@500daysoftessa: i am in love with the boy who works at starbucks. today i asked for a double latte and he gave me a tripple, which i think is proof that my love is requited. our children will be smart and talented and beautiful.

@500daysoftessa: little known historical fact: pharaohs were burried with their hands crossed over their chests because it was a popular belief there would be countless water slides in the after life.

#huntingtonintro #pounce on me for plots #tw school shooting #tw bipolar disorder #tw depression

[whoisleft-rp]

WIZENGAMOT SPECIAL ELECTION RESULTS ANNOUNCED

+ + +

The official story…

During the tragic events of New Year’s Eve, three Wizengamot members lost their lives at the hands of a senseless, baseless attack – an attack that is still under investigation, but not yielding many promising leads. Obviously, the lives of three impressive and powerful people were lost, and the entire Ministry leads the Wizarding world in mourning their colleagues, their friends, their leaders.

Seven candidates were up for election to the three newly-open Wizengamot seats. After months of campaigning, complaining and competing, three winners have been named:

#1. Elphias Doge - Despite his polling numbers being somewhat middling early on and his lack of the robust press coverage some of his fellow candidates saw, Doge was nevertheless seen as a safe, well-endorsed choice.

#2. Tara Norwood - The pureblood conservatives’ favorite choice by far, Tara ran one of the best-funded (and most controversial) election campaigns the Wizarding World has ever seen. In taking office, she has vowed to protect pureblood interests and the longtime pillars of magical society, including stronger restrictions on the Statute of Secrecy.

#3. Piper Moonfall - A Ministry of Magic official who has made several different departments her home over the years, Mrs. Moonfall ran a platform that centered on reform in the criminal justice system and stronger mental health services in the wizarding world.

As for the candidates who did not succeed, this time, in securing a nomination, news has trickled in about their plans.

In a hugely surprising turn of events, Piper Moonfall has decided to dedicate her time only to the Wizengamot. Rather than leave her previous position in the Improper Use of Magic Office as an Auror Department liaison vacant...she has made a public appointment of her predecessor. Young voter favorite and press phenomenon Olivia St. Culpo will now occupy Mrs. Moonfall’s previous post. This is a huge step up in the Ministry for her, and will allow her the power to begin enacting some of her promised policies through a platform other than the Wizengamot courts.

Tiberius Ogden will, of course, remain a part of his family business – and has announced the surprising release of a new line of whiskey products bearing his campaign’s tagline: “We mean business!”

Chilton Cloven will continue teaching night classes to magical adults, and will hold his current position teaching muggle schoolchildren in London until the day comes that he can afford to get his adult initiatives further off the ground.

Leland Talbot has stated that he intends to continue the retirement he took recently before launching his campaign...but eagle eyed citizens have seen him out to supper more than three times this month alone with Head Auror Alastor Moody. Another announcement from the Auror’s office is expected at some point in the future.

+ + + 

Behind the scenes...

For all intents and purposes, the election seemed completely on the up-and-up; every of-age member of British wizard society got to cast their votes, and the Ministry of Magic made sure to keep the process as transparent as possible during both the campaigning and results portions of the election.

From the very beginning of the process, however, other parties had their hands on the wheel.

Both the Death Eaters - including the many people loyal to them within the Ministry and elsewhere - and the Order of the Phoenix’s more powerful members have made sure to elect one cause-sympathetic candidate each. The Death Eaters were propping up Tara Norwood from the start, a witch with strong pureblood ties and a dedication to Lord Voldemort’s cause; meanwhile, the Order managed to get Albus Dumbledore’s trusted friend and ally Elphias Doge in the Wizengamot chair.

Death Eater characters will both know of, and could have been a part of, the Norwood placement; just as Order members will be aware of Doge’s.

Congratulations are in order to Mrs. Piper Moonfall, who was helped in an official capacity by neither underground organization. Good job bitch you a real one!

+ + + 

For OOC purposes, a refresher on each of the candidates is below the cut…

Elphias Doge

Slogan: Common decency, common sense

Background: A good friend of the Dumbledore family. Traveled the world after his graduation from Hogwarts. An outcast during his school days who learned how to embrace his silly side and has become very outspoken as a result, while still maintaining a cheerful demeanor. His career has been spent working at many nonprofit organizations. Talent for charms. Pureblood, but not of the Sacred 28 and definitely not highly regarded by the most classist factions of the pureblood community.

Appearance: Extremely elderly, but extremely energetic, too. Often wears a silly hat. Due to being a Dragonpox survivor in his childhood, his skin is pock-marked and greenish.

Main Platforms: Repealing the new werewolf suppression laws, especially because werewolves without aid can easily be radicalized by dangerous people; Building stronger connections with other ministries around the world to unite the global Wizarding community; Mandatory language courses instated at Hogwarts.

Publicly Endorsed By: Personal, longtime friend Albus Dumbledore, current Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Tiberius Ogden

Slogan: We mean business!

Background: Has spent his entire life working for his family’s business, Ogden’s Old Firewhiskey. Never previously involved with government, but he has plenty of experienced advisers with him on the campaign trail.

Appearance: Middle-aged, with a fox-like face, a pointed grey beard, and a perpetual smirk.

Main Platforms: Wants to run the government more like a business; Believes in setting up new, stronger connections between government and private industry; Plans to work toward reorganizing the Ministry departments into something more streamlined, efficient and accountable to budgets and tight deadlines.

Publicly Endorsed By: Older brother Bob Ogden, Head of the Magical Law Enforcement Patrol.

Olivia St. Culpo

Slogan: Equal society, happier world

Background: Rose to recognition - and a fair bit of infamy - as a lobbyist for goblin rights and centaur land reallocation. A halfblood witch with a dedicated younger group of supporters, she has been deemed a bit too “optimistic” or even “inexperienced” by some more wizened members of the Ministry.

Appearance: Late-twenties, with close-cropped brown curls - very hip - and a stylish collection of suits. She’s not your great-great-grandmother’s candidate, that’s for sure.

Main Platforms: Working on brokering a happier peace with and better lives for marginalized communities in the wizarding world; Stronger connections with other like-minded countries and their Ministries; Muggleborn protection and equality; Income disparity between members of the wizarding world.

Publicly Endorsed By: Celestina Warbeck, famous chanteuse.

Piper Moonfall

Slogan: Justice with dignity

Background: A Ministry of Magic official who has made several different departments her home over the years, Mrs. Moonfall has long been a recognizable face at the Ministry; her most recent, and potentially last, position being in the Improper Use of Magic Office. She has worked closely with the Aurors over the years, fighting for less severe jailing sentences for varying levels of offenses.

Appearance: Middle-aged, grey-streaked black hair that she wears long. Extremely tall and fairly serious looking, but with a well-known toothy smile; often seen at Ministry events with her longtime partner Alina on her arm.

Main Platforms: The abolition of Azkaban as an institution; Development and implementation of better criminal reform; Stronger mental health services in the wizarding world; The creation of more jailing facilities for varying levels of offenses

Publicly Endorsed By: Rosalina Prewett, former member of the Wizengamot and matriarch of the Prewett family.

Chilton Cloven

Slogan: Save our schools!

Background: A muggleborn currently teaching at a muggle school in London while also teaching night classes for magical adults, Mr. Cloven has been an outspoken member of the magical community ever since receiving his, as he calls it, “very unexpected” Hogwarts acceptance letter.

Appearance: Average-height with cropped red hair and freckles, a laid-back sort of charm about him.

Main Platforms: A focus on education, including reforms in the Hogwarts curriculum; Making Muggle Studies mandatory, as well as focusing more on Maths and English studies; Making school more accessible to muggleborns; Extra tutoring for muggleborns and halfblood students to help them start at the same level as many tutored pureblood students.

Publicly Endorsed By: Armando Dippet, former Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Leland Talbot

Slogan: Serving with excellence

Background: A longtime Ministry employee and recently retired Auror. Has seen combat firsthand and believes strongly in fast-moving criminal justice. During his three years of Auror training after Hogwarts, he was one of only four people who volunteered for an unpaid internship as a liaison to Azkaban prison.

Appearance: Hardened and haunted. Physically imposing, both height and fitness-wise. Possibly has not smiled in 10+ years.

Main Platforms: Stronger, mandatory Defense Against the Dark Arts training for all citizens; Less open communication with foreign Ministries, who may be spying or eager to spot a weak spot; Raising the bar of difficulty to become a certified Auror; Auror training that begins earlier for promising recruits, following OWLS rather than NEWTS.

Publicly Endorsed By: Alastor Moody, Head Auror.

Tara Norwood

Slogan: Honoring our past, protecting our future

Background: A longtime employee of the Department of Mysteries - as such, it is impossible to comment fully on what she has done for wizarding society as a whole, though it is no doubt impressive and prestigious. An outspoken member of her community outside of her Ministerial duties, coming from a well-respected pureblood family - known for their outpouring of Ravenclaw alumni and donations to charities dedicated to preserving the histories of many of the wizarding world’s oldest families.  

Appearance: Middle-aged with long dark hair, the aristocratic look of a member of an old family. Average height, but often seen a sharp pair of no-nonsense heels.

Main Platforms: Stronger restrictions on the Statute of Secrecy; Beginning a Ministry-regulated magical education earlier in life; Protecting historic magical institutions of government and societal traditions.

Publicly Endorsed By: The Malfoy family, as well as several other notable and conservative pureblood families.

#whoisleftevent

[snarkybluechristian]

Hazbin Hotel: Satan’s Plan Part 8 (Collab with Dinobot King)

Version:1.0 StartHTML:000000203 EndHTML:002012161 StartFragment:001971031 EndFragment:002012129 StartSelection:001971031 EndSelection:002012125 SourceURL:https://www.fanfiction.net/docs/docs.php

The room’s walls were colored pink with glitter almost everywhere.  There were chairs arranged in a circle with a red rug covering the floor.  

From what Sir Pentious could see, the crowd was diverse.

There was a small, chubby dark-skinned female demon with black eyes with hot pink pupils wearing a short purple dress and a purple necklace who was eating from a box of donuts.

There was a gray-blue-skinned demon with dark blue fins on the side of his face and running along his spine until it reached the angler fish lure on the top of his head wearing a blue lab coat, black gloves, and black boots who was sitting shyly alone in his chair.

Then finally, there was a white dog demon covered in black spots with a black leg, ears pierced multiple times, yellow and red eyes, and blond and pink hair wearing a spiked dog collar, a pink dress with a skull on it, black fingerless gloves, and a black short-sleeved jacket who was curled up sleeping on the floor in the center of the circle.

“Crymini, wake up!” Vaggie yelled.

“Dammit, woman,” Crymini groaned groggily as she woke up.  “What’s your deal?”

“Hey, kid, you do not give me back sass!” Vaggie retorted.

“For the last time, I died when I was 19,” Crymini growled getting in her face.  “I am not a kid.”

“Ladies, please, let’s calm down,” Charlie said as she pulled a reluctant Sir Pentious into the room behind her.

“It’s not my fault this bitch was being rude,” Vaggie replied irritably before she noticed the tall snake demon being pulled into the room behind Charlie.  

“What is he doing here?” Vaggie asked defensively.  

“Well, you’re not particularly welcoming,” Sir Pentious said as Charlie let go of his hands and he crossed his arms defensively.  “I thought this was supposed to be a rehab center.”

“Hey!” Vaggie retorted.  “I don’t tell you how to do your job!”

“Alright, Vaggie,” Charlie said in a calm tone in an effort to calm everyone down before she started speaking up to begin the meeting.  “How about we get this meeting started?  Hello, everyone!  This is the Happy Hotel’s newest patient, Sir Pentious!  Woo!”

Sir Pentious glanced at the group and rolled his eyes at them.

“Hello, Pentious,” Angel said swinging the door open and shutting it behind him.  

“What are you doing here, Dust?” Sir Pentious hissed.

“Sir Pentious, he’s part of the group, too,” Charlie said calmly.

“So, what did I miss?” Angel asked as he slid into his chair.  “Did Sir Pentious bear his soul yet?”

“You were almost late,” Vaggie chided quietly sitting herself in a chair beside him.  “What the hell were you doing?”

“Relax, doll,” Angel said.  “I merely had some personal business to attend to.  So, what’s on the agenda today?”

“Our new member was just introducing himself, but it seems that you two already know each other,” Mimzy said sliding her box under her chair.

“Everyone knows who he is,” Baxter chimed in as he sipped from a cup of water.  “Aren’t you the snake demon who’s always trying to take over hell?  What are you doing here?”

“Yeah, did the incident with Cherri Bomb finally make you quit or somethin’?” Crymini asked sitting back in her chair and scratching her ear.

Sir Pentious crossed his arms defensively and said sarcastically, “Hello, fellow scum of the earth.  I look forward to avoiding all of you as much as possible.”

“Well, bud, looks like someone didn’t get the memo,” Angel quipped.  “This is a no bullying zone, so if you have a problem with us, I suggest you pack your bags and scram.”

Vaggie smirked while Charlie facepalmed in frustration.  

“Ok, Angel, that’s enough,” Charlie said bringing the group back to focus and sliding into her chair.  “Alright, Sir Pentious, would you like to tell us the story of your life?”

“Don’t be absurd,” Sir Pentious retorted.  “It’s none of your business.”

“Why?” Charlie asked.  “Does it have anything to do with why you’re constantly trying to take over hell?”

“God, how long is this session?” Sir Pentious responded with annoyance.

“As long as you make it,” Vaggie retorted.

“Okay, fine,” Sir Pentious said sarcastically.  “I lived in London.  I wanted to be king, but the royals said no and I drank myself to death.  There, happy now?  I’m going back to my room.  I need to talk to my Egg Bois…”

Sir Pentious tried to get up from his chair, but Charlie grabbed his tail and forced him to sit back down.

“Sir Pentious, you have to be honest with yourself and everyone else to achieve redemption,” Charlie said getting back into her chair.  “You have to get in touch with what it is that is making you depressed, sad, or angry.”

“I don’t want to and you can’t make me,” Sir Pentious said rising from his chair again.  “I’ll achieve redemption on my own…”

“No, you don’t, mister,” Charlie said pushing Sir Pentious back onto the chair and handcuffing his left hand to the chair he was sitting on.

“Hey!” Angel complained.  “I told ya to stay out of my stash, Charlie!”

“Bloody hell, woman!” Sir Pentious shouted.  “What in the hell is wrong with you?  Uncuff me this instant!”

“No way!” Charlie said getting close enough for him to see her clipboard.  “Not until you start talking about your life!”

“I don’t have to say anything,” Sir Pentious said turning away.

Vaggie twitched her eyes, growled, got in his face, and yelled, “Come on!  You came here because you wanted to be rehabilitated.  So, what is it?  Why do you want to be the Devil?”

“Vaggie, get out of his face!” Charlie pleaded.

Sir Pentious glared and Vaggie reluctantly backed down as Angel said, “It really ain’t that hard, snake.  What is eating you?  Mommy issues?  Daddy issues?  Were you lonely?  Were you poor?  Were you a user?  Or, was it something else entirely?”

“Angel…” Charlie pleaded as Angel lit a cigarette.

Sir Pentious’ glare intensified as Angel kept goading, “You know what I think?  I think you had it easy in your life.  I think you always got everything you wanted in life and when you died you had to work like the rest of us and couldn’t stand it.  And now that you can’t get what you want here, you want to make amends with God so you can move on to Paradise and have it easy again.  Typical.  I could never stand rich bastards like you who had it easy.  No offense to you, Charlie.  You’re different.  You’re trying to do something.  People like Pentious here don’t give a shit.  Try to tell me I’m wrong.”

Sir Pentious scoffed and hissed, “What are you talking about?!  I know what your family was!  We’re cut from the same cloth, ya bloody hypocrite!”

“I left those bastards long ago,” Angel argued back before taking a drag from his cigarette.  “What’s your excuse?”

“THEY NEVER GAVE ME WHAT I DESERVED!” Sir Pentious finally screamed.  “I WAS TORMENTED AND REJECTED BY EVERYONE!  I WORKED HARDER THAN THEY DID AND WAS BARELY TOLERATED!  WHEN YOU WERE ALIVE, YOU HAD ACCEPTANCE AND SOCIAL STANDING!  I WAS REJECTED BY OWN BLOOD RELATIVES AND MY OWN SOCIETY ALL BECAUSE I WAS A ‘HALF-BREED!’”

Everyone went silent except Angel who asked, “What the hell does that mean?”

“That means that unlike you I’m not white,” Sir Pentious hissed more quietly.  “I’m only half-English.  The other half comes from India, from my mother’s people.”

Sir Pentious noticed the clipboard that Charlie had placed on the ground.  He used his hat to signal to his Egg Bois to pick it up while a flood of restored memories started flowing his way.

“Uh, Sir Pentious, do you care to expand on that?” Charlie asked.

Sir Pentious looked at her and felt the kindness behind her voice.  It touched him.

So, Sir Pentious began his tale, “My father was the child of a wealthy English inventor who along with his wife was radically Christian and progressive for his time.  My mother was the daughter of Indian merchants who were like-minded.  When my father moved with his parents to India, he fell in love with that daughter.  My grandparents were close friends and approved of their union without hesitation.  Soon after that, I was born.  My skin was lighter because of my father, but I looked very much like my mother.  I had brown skin, black hair, and steely brown-gray eyes just like hers, just like a cobra’s.  That’s what they would all say.  I grew up in India knowing the values of the West and the East.  I had grandparents and parents who loved me and my many cousins on my mother’s side to play with.  I was never considered different from any of them.  I was loved, and I was happy.  They all shielded me from the world’s prejudice.  My grandparents both died happy.  My father was happy too until my mother died.  She fell ill during her pregnancy with my younger sibling.  I was only nine, and from then on, everything went straight to hell…”

Sir Pentious was surprised to see tears falling down his face.  Charlie walked away from her chair and wrapped an arm around Sir Pentious.  The Egg Bois continued sneaking towards the chair, but Sir Pentious was too lost in his memories to notice.  

“My grandfather’s business partners forced my father to return to the homeland.  He didn’t want to, but his kind and gentle heart was heartbroken and he didn’t have the strength to keep resisting.  So, we both returned to London.

“Upon our arrival to London, his biological family refused to acknowledge me.  They couldn’t bear the fact that my father had married an Indian woman, so he rejected them.  My father was a true Christian man whose progressive values made him an outcast, but we were not alone.  My father had a spiritual family in the church he grew up in.  They were all radicals who were as progressive as my father if not more and were also considered outcasts in their own families.  They were the righteous people who campaigned for justice locally and abroad.  They ran organizations to help the poor.  They sponsored abolitionists.  They even campaigned for women’s suffrage.  They loved their neighbors as themselves, and they accepted us without a second thought.

“My father and his friends protected me as much as they could.  They raised me as much as he did.  They all taught me many things, including how to play the organ, and gave me a loving environment, but even so, I knew I was an outcast.  I could see it in the glances of passersby when we were out in public.  I could hear it in the comments others made.  I could feel it in our small insular world.  My holy family always stood up for me.  My father encouraged me and taught me how to stand strong.  He even kept up correspondence with my family in India for me.  We went to visit them whenever we were on holiday to escape, but it all wasn’t enough.  I could still feel the hatred of the world I grew up in…”

Every single misfit was focused on Sir Pentious’ story.  Not even Vaggie noticed when one Egg Boi picked up the documents while the other Egg Boi took pictures on his smart phone.

“Then when I was old enough to go to boarding school, I felt that hatred in its full force,” Sir Pentious continued.  “Without guardians to protect me, the school tore me apart.  They housed me in a room by myself as if I were some sort of animal.  The other students bullied me mercilessly.  They stole my possessions.  They mocked me relentlessly.  They called me a ‘half-breed’ and tormented me daily.  None of the adults did anything to make it stop.  They punished me whenever I spoke up against it.  They joined in the bullying.  I constantly received harsh punishments for minor infractions and rules I didn’t break.  They accused me of cheating because they could never believe that a ‘half-breed’ could be more intelligent than any other white student.  They marked my grades as low as they could get away with for the slightest error.  The only one who was kind to me there was the colored groundskeeper who defended me whenever he could.  I tried to stay strong and keep my torment a secret from my father and his friends.  I excelled in my studies despite their best efforts, but the bullying only grew worse until one day the aggression got physical.  

“The strongest players from my school’s rugby team were plastered.  I was walking back to my dormitory room after studying in the library all evening.  They found me and beat me within an inch of my life.  They left me beaten and bruised and almost too hurt to move.  The groundskeeper found me, got me help, and stayed with me at the hospital while my father was called for.  If I was found any later, I would have died due to the severity of my injuries.

“When my father arrived, I told him everything.  He was furious.  He brought multiple lawsuits against the school and brought criminal charges against the people who beat me and left me for dead.  His lawyer friends helped him as much as they could, but ultimately, the school had friends in higher places.  They forced my father to agree to a settlement and those bastards who almost killed me never faced a single disciplinary action…”

Sir Pentious’ frill spread out and he started shaking in fury at the restored memories.  

“I left that school and started attending classes in another college while living at home and apprenticing under my father.  My father and his godly friends counseled me as much as they could, but I couldn’t let go of my anger or my hate.  Their cruelty had poisoned me, but it had destroyed my father more than I ever knew.  He slipped into a depression that neither I or his friends could counsel him out of.  When I graduated, we worked together making inventions and bonded more closely than ever.  I thought he was getting better, but one morning, I found him dead.  He had drunk himself to death.  It turned out that he had been drinking for a long time.  The world had broken his heart.

“In his will, my father left everything to me.  During his funeral, all his friends of the church, much of my mother’s family, and even the groundskeeper came to bid him farewell, to mourn with me, and to comfort me in my time of sorrow.  Many of them even accompanied me to take his ashes to India.  But no one in my father’s family came.  Not a single person would even approach me or acknowledge my existence or pay tribute to my father.  And for what?  All because he had fallen in love with an Indian woman…”

Sir Pentious started shedding angry tears and his voice raised in his fury as he continued, “That was the straw that broke the camels back.  I realized then that the world was a horrid place where the good and the righteous like my father and his friends couldn’t triumph because of the corrupt, racist, unjust, and white-washed vermin who crushed anyone who dared to defy their corruption!  That world had broken my kind and gentle-hearted father because he refused to abandon me, so I decided that I would break it back!  I could no longer turn the other cheek!  I had to destroy the world that destroyed my poor father and me so that good men could triumph!

“So, instead of returning to India to live with my mother’s family away from the prejudice of England, I stayed behind and became a villain.  I created inventions that I sold for profit to fund underground terrorists the world over.  Anarchists.  The Irish Republican Army.  The freedom fighters among my mother’s people.  Extreme abolitionists.  All of them came to me and relied on my funding and eventually my inventions to help their causes, and I was glad to give it.  I saved my assistant Toulouse from a workhouse and got his help going even further.  I began carrying out terroristic missions myself.  I let my black hair grow long enough to flow down my back like a hood.  The survivors started calling me ‘the serpent’ in all the newspapers, so that’s who I became.  ‘The serpent,’ the karmic snake in the grass that would carry out God’s wrath and rebalance the world!”

Tears flooded Sir Pentious’ eyes as he stared at the floor and relived his restored memories once again.  The Egg Bois took the last of their pictures, slid the clipboard back under the chair, and gave a thumbs up to their boss.  The hat saw it, but Sir Pentious didn’t respond.

“I didn’t get what I wanted,” Sir Pentious sobbed.  “I got vengeance, but I didn’t see my work completed.  I contracted tuberculosis at the age of 48.  I died in my sick bed with Toulouse right beside me.  It was so unfair…”

Charlie walked over to Sir Pentious, gave him a big hug, and said, “It’s okay, Sir Pentious.  Just let it out.”

And for a few minutes, that’s just what he did.

All the misfits sat in silence except for Angel who finally broke the silence and said, “That explains why you’re obsessed with takin’ over hell…”

“Angel!” Vaggie snapped.

“What?” Angel replied.  “It does.  He wants to take over hell so he can finish his work of bringing down those who make the world a shitty place.  It makes sense.”

“He’s not wrong,” Crymini chimed in scratching her ear with her back leg.

The two Egg Bois scampered onto their boss’ lap and gave him the biggest hugs they could.

“You’re going to be just fine, boss,” Austen said.

“Yeah,” Thrys agreed.

Sir Pentious smiled as conflicting emotions rose inside him and rested in his chest.  On one hand, he felt relief at sharing his story.  On the other hand, Sir Pentious felt the same odd emotion that he had felt when he saw Delilah that morning.  Guilt.  He had just distracted them so his Egg Bois could steal their information…

“That was a wonderful share, Sir Pentious,” Charlie said finally letting go of him.

“Thanks,” Sir Pentious replied genuinely.  “Could you take the handcuffs off now?”

“Oh, yeah, of course,” Charlie said digging the key out of her pocket and unlocking the handcuff around Sir Pentious’ wrist.

“I’ll be taking that back,” Angel said in annoyance as he unlocked the handcuffs off the chair and stuffed them in his pocket.  “Say, Sir Pentious, where did those eggs come from?”

“Huh?” Thrys asked.  “What do you mean?”

“I think he’s asking where you guys came from and how you know Sir Pentious,” Charlie said.

“Oh,” Austen replied.  “Well, the only one of us who knows that story completely is Toulouse.  All we have our bits and pieces of his memories.  Only the original has every memory, so you’d have to ask our boss.”

“Well?” Angel asked curiously.  

“If you must know, I found Toulouse when I was searching my local workhouse for an assistant,” Sir Pentious replied.  “Ordinarily, anyone else would have just taken out an ad in the newspaper, but I knew that very few employees would be willing to take orders from a ‘half-breed,’ especially in London.  So, I searched the workhouse instead for someone I knew would be grateful to serve me.  That is when I met Toulouse.

“Toulouse was the only child of two French farmers.  Their farm failed when his father died of illness, and his naïve mother thought they’d have a better chance of starting over in London.  But they ended up in the workhouse instead.

“Those workhouse bastards were beyond cruel to him. Toulouse was a French immigrant who only came there to save the life of his sick mother and had no idea what he was getting into. He was only 15. He couldn't have. He didn't speak a word of English.

“The moment his mother died, he was taken back to be forcefully bathed, had his clothes taken from him, was placed in a uniform, locked away, and given a number. Number 22. He had to hide his few possessions so they wouldn't be taken from him and sold. They put him in the mentally ill ward of the workhouse with other maniacs because he was slow, depressed, and too frightened to speak.

“Modern medical literature would describe Toulouse's mental condition as a mix of high-functioning autism and attention deficit and hyperactivity disorder, but back then, the doctors simply described him as a mentally deficient imbecile. It was horrible. I can't imagine how scared he must have been or how horribly those calloused monsters must have treated him.

“He slept on straw beds and ate rationed food. Toulouse was starved and isolated fairly often because he taught himself how to pick locks and frequently tried to escape that prison. Can you blame him?  They put him through hell.  Those monsters didn't do anything to comfort him or help him. They embezzled much of the money used to help the inmates and cut corners whenever they could!

“The day I came, Toulouse was trying to run away in a straitjacket. They were sending him to an institution so that their colleagues would receive more government money and they wouldn't have to deal with him anymore. It made me sick. I had to do something.

“So, I gave them a bigger bribe to let me take Toulouse in myself. He was in such bad shape. He was starved, scared almost to the point of mania, and unbelievably lacking in social graces. I was the only one who could speak to him or calm him down since I learned French in school and practiced it regularly in business.  I had to teach him how to read, write, and speak in English. I had to teach him how to behave in formal company. I had to practically raise him. But Toulouse surprised me. He learned pretty readily. He was not stupid or mentally deficient after all. He only needed guidance, a steady hand, and a structured yet nurturing environment and he prospered. Wish I could say the same of his clones...”

“So, you’re a kinder person than you seem,” Angel said with a smile.

“No,” Sir Pentious said defensively.  “I knew he’d be the perfect assistant…”

“Your Eggheads don’t look like perfect assistants to me,” Angel retorted.  “Admit it.  You did it out of the kindness of your heart.  You became the kid’s family and he devoted his life to you, like a son.”

“Awwwww!” the Egg Bois said hugging their boss more closely.

“So, what if I did?” Sir Pentious retorted.  “They were going to send a mentally disordered but perfectly capable young man to prison!  It would have been a waste!”

“Whatever you say,” Angel said.  “Ya big softie!”

Sir Pentious only glared at Angel for a moment before he returned to his own thoughts.

“Alright, guys!  The meeting is over, and now…” Charlie said cheerfully grabbing her tuxedo and ripping it off to reveal a black and white bikini under it.  “It’s time to go swimming!”

Sir Pentious’ mouth dropped open in shock as all the other misfits pushed the doors open and rushed into the pool area.  Meanwhile, Austen got a call on his smartphone.

“Hey, Sir Pentious!” Charlie said cheerfully.  “Aren’t you coming?”

“Yeah, Pent-y!” Angel yelled from outside wearing nothing but his booty shorts.  “Come play with us!”

“I…uh…” Sir Pentious said searching for the right words in his embarrassment.  

“Boss,” Austen interrupted.  “It’s Toulouse.”

Sir Pentious took the phone and said, “Toulouse, what is…?  Oh, God!  I’m coming.”

“Sorry, princess,” Sir Pentious said quickly slithering backwards and trying to hide his relief.  “I have something urgent I need to take care of at home!  Cheerio!”

“Uh, okay…” Charlie said hesitantly walking outside.  “See you later.  Don’t forget curfew.”  

Sir Pentious turned around and slithered quickly out of the room with the Egg Bois riding on his tail.

“Boss, what is it?” Thrys asked.  

“Delilah’s gone,” Sir Pentious replied.  “Remind me to thank her later.”

#hazbinhotel #sir pentious #eggbois

[rezares]

Inni Mnih / War & Peace

In which Rory accidentally falls asleep and wakes up to a new achievement; alternatively: Rory’s Now A Level Six Friend And Unlocks The Tragic Backstory

@roryybriar

Title

Word Count: 4443

tw: blood, violence, oppression

REZA

 Reza was getting used to this whole ‘running for public office’ thing. He wasn’t needing to cut a valium in half and take it when thinking about it too hard anymore, so that was a start. Aurora still had the fire lit under her feet more than he did, but you know, he was invested.

 Even if he hadn’t lived in town long, it was important to him that this be a safe place for his family. For at least the next two years, until Lamia’s finished her undergrad at least, he’d be here, helping support her education. If she chose to go to medical school at Pride U as well, then Reza would probably stay here. Moving was a hassle. Why leave somewhere you’re comfortable? If Lamia chose to go elsewhere, Reza and Fadela probably wouldn’t tag along next time. If he did move, he’d probably just go back to Tunisia- dangerous and unfavorable for sorcerers, but home - or Austria, since his mother was there. Maybe New Zealand would be a good place to settle; magick-friendly, lots of fluffy sheep. Not a bad place.

 Then again, maybe Swynlake, England, will grow on him more than it already has. Maybe he already has settled.

 He turned his head to Aurora, his apprentice and campaign manager, and tried to peek at the writing in her notebook.

 AURORA

 Aurora was loving being a campaign manager. Really, she was having the time of her life! What she wasn’t loving was how it was fucking with her sleep schedule.

 Her naps were all over the place, she was taking more potions to stay awake through events; not to mention the fucking cursed cymbal monkey was causing her to lose sleep, too. Overall, Aurora was Tired All The Time.

 Take, for example, right now. She knew she and Reza were supposed to be going over practice questions for the debates and finalizing some of the details for their first fundraiser, but she was falling asleep on the job. The curse pulled at her body, exhaustion washing over her as gravity seemed to press her down into Reza’s couch, and her head lolled and nodded as she struggled to stay awake. She barely noticed Reza trying to peek at her notebook, and halfheartedly nudged him away with her bare foot against his leg. She tried to think of something witty to say about keeping his eyes on his own paper, but only managed a small mumble of gibberish and a large yawn.

 REZA

 “Aurora,” Reza began quietly. “I can drive you home if you’re too tired for this today, we can work on this later. You’ve been drilling questions into my head so much that I have answers and counterpoints memorized verbatim.”

 And that wasn’t a joke. At all. Something true about Aurora was that whenever she lacked experience, she made up for it in droves with her determination.

 Whether on the campaign trail, or in his workshop, Reza didn’t doubt her ability to do well - even if, with the latter, it took a lot of trial and error. (For now. See, now that he knew about her curse, it was a challenge for him, a code he had to crack, and it was going to drive him mad if he didn’t stop thinking about it.)

 AURORA

 Aurora knew the moment Reza asked that she was not going to make it home. She could barely keep her eyes open now, she’d be out like a light before they even got to the car. So instead, she just shook her head, sliding down further into the couch and bringing her knees closer to her chest.

 “Won’-” she yawned “- make it. I’ll be fine. Jus’ sleepy.”

 Her head dipped towards her chest, and within moments, the curse had pulled her back under and Aurora was deep asleep; curled around her notebook like a stuffed toy.

 REZA

 Reza shook his head at her as she fell asleep. Annoyed? No. Disappointed that she bothered coming today when she was feeling so tired? A little. He never wanted her to put her own health on the backburner to run his campaign, or to come over and study.

 As he watched her curl around the notebook like it was her teddy, Reza clicked his tongue at her and just kind of...paused there a moment. Let her sleep, he knew that much from her naps during lessons. Except those naps were in his workshop when Fadela and Lamia wouldn’t be around to disturb her.

 The living room of their house was not so sacred. Any minute now, they’d be home from their trip to NTO and Reza was not going to have a tired, angry Aurora in campaign manager mode versus student mode on his hands.

  He simply refused.

 “My knee is going to hate me in an hour,” he muttered, his decision made. Gently, Reza, gently. He slid his arms under her sleeping figure and scooped her up with mild hesitation - being deadweight and all -  making sure her head didn’t flop about.

 The walk to his bedroom was just up the stairs - the guest bedroom downstairs was full of boxes from the move, still two years later, and Lamia used the spare upstairs as a study room, and he wasn’t about to walk into the disaster zones that were his sisters’ bedrooms. For two people who like their work spaces just so, their living spaces told another story.

 Reza placed Rory on top of his made up bed and scanned the room for a blanket.

 Should he cover her? Of course he should. Did she sleep with a ceiling fan on? Better to wake up a little chilly than drenched in sweat, probably.

 He carefully laid a blanket over her, left the fan on, and kept the door cracked so he might hear her wake up. Other than keeping an ear out, she was at the back of his mind as he started dinner. Sundays were one of Reza’s nights to cook.

 AURORA

 It was nearly two hours before Aurora began to stir in Reza’s bed. She shifted closer to the pillows, legs thrown haphazardly across the bed as she breathed in deep. It wasn’t the somewhat-familiar smell of Reza’s house that greeted her, though; instead the smell of laundry soap and the faint smell of man sweat. The oddness of the fact began to pull Aurora closer to wakefulness, and she rolled onto her back as she stretched and arched.

 Yeah, this was way more space than she should have on the couch. Where was she?

 Aurora propped herself up on her elbows as she looked around sleepily, blinking the magic and exhaustion from her eyes. She was in… a room? A man’s room, by the look of it. But why would she be in a-

 Oh. Right. Reza.

 Had she been more awake, the revelation might have sent her scrambling out of bed, embarrassed and red from head to toe. Insted, she just groaned and flopped back onto the bed, one arm over her eyes. Great, she had passed out and then put to bed like a child. Always fun.

 (Wait, did that mean that Reza had carried her to bed, and she had missed it? She loved being carried; one of the perks of being Objectively Tiny.)

 Grumbling lowly, Aurora rolled onto her side as she slowly worked her way to being fully awake. She found herself looking at Reza’s bedside table, and a young, grinning face greeted her from inside a dark frame. Aurora propped her head up a little higher on her arm, reaching out to the picture to try and get a closer look, but her fingers only landing on the edge of the side table instead.

 Who was she?

 REZA

 She’s been out for a while, Fadela had said, helping herself to the dinner he was still cooking. Reza’s swatted her hand away and explained that that’s narcolepsy, and it wasn’t the first time. He didn’t mention that he suspected Rory’d been losing sleep over the cursed cymbals monkey thing, because Fadela would have only made fun of her.

 We get it, Fadela, you’re a stone cold bitch.

 Though.

 Fadela was right. It had been two hours, so maybe it was worth checking on her to see if she was alive. He was not in the mood to hide a body today, thank you.

 When he got to the top of the stairs, he didn’t hear her rustling around, as she’d stopped by then, so he turned on his heel to go back downstairs until he remembered - oh, right. Checking on someone required looking at them.

 He pushed open his bedroom door just enough to peek at her, and assuming she was still asleep, grabbed the handle to pull the door closed again as he made to back away.

 AURORA

 She heard the door open a bit, and shifted her head to look at the door and away from the mysterious little girl with the pretty curls of dark hair and warm eyes.

 Or at least, attempt to look at the door through her hair. She hadn’t pulled it up before passing out, so it was A Hot Mess.

 She could barely make out a tall figure on the other side, and hummed quietly at the back of her throat in greeting. It was quiet, barely-there sound, and Aurora didn’t really expect Reza to hear her.

 REZA

 Reza was a father. And a big brother who practically raised Lamia. His ears were fine-tuned to hear soft noises coming from sleepy daughters, sisters, and friends. He pushed his door open again and walked toward his bed, stopping a respectable ten feet or so away.

 “You’re up?”

 AURORA

 Aurora watched Reza approach, shifting a little so she wasn’t twisted up all over the bed as much. “Gettin’ there,” she responded, her voice soft and husky with sleep. She smiled up at him - or at least attempted to, she was still half asleep. “Thanks fer lettin’ me sleep here,” she murmured before glancing back at the photo.

 There was a family resemblance, definitely. Seeing Reza in the room with her only made it more obvious. “This Lamia?” Aurora asked softly, reaching out and falling short of the photo once again, instead tapping the edge of the nightstand.

 REZA

 His mouth was open to say ‘it was nothing’ when his eyes followed Aurora’s hand to the nightstand, and continuing onto her hand’s intended target when it missed. He snapped his mouth shut and crossed the room to the side of his bed to snatch up the picture.

 “No.” Reza said, a bit too urgently and too harshly, as he stared at the picture of the smiling little girl in traditional dress with palpable longing.

 How could he forget it was there and not take it with him?

 Well, he knew why. Because Reza trusted Aurora, because his guard was down around her. And, he didn’t need to be afraid here, he didn’t need to hide any evidence of his child like in Tunisia. It was different for sorcerers here.

 “This is a picture of my daughter.”

 AURORA

 Whatever response she had been expecting, that wasn't it. Aurora drew her hand back as quickly as she could with her heavy limbs when Reza crossed the room, blinking up at him in innocent and somewhat startled confusion.

 His harsh 'no’ was a little like a slap to the face, waking her a little more just from the shock. What the hell had she done wrong? She wasn't snooping, the photo was literally right there.

 She watched him look at the photo for a moment, silently marveling at how soft his features had gone in an instant even as her own confusion only increased.

 “This is a picture of my daughter.”

 Aurora blinked at him, still tucked safely against his pillows and under his blanket. “Daughter?”  she asked softly.

 REZA

 “Yes,” Reza said, his gaze fixated on the picture, one hand gripping the frame tight, the other, tracing the lines of his little girl’s face. “She was four in this picture. I haven’t held her in over three years.”

 He cleared his throat, pushing down the wetness there.

 Though nothing could stop his arms from aching for his sweet little girl.

 “I miss her very much. She was the highlight of every single day; just. First thing in the morning I woke up to.”

 AURORA

 Aurora watched Reza silently; the way he carefully traced the lines of his daughter's face, the longing in his eyes. It was a side of him she had never seen before, and she couldn't help but think it was incredibly sweet.

 (Though there was a tiny voice in the back of her head that whispered “Why didn't he tell me about her before?”)

 “She's beautiful,” Aurora said softly. She wanted to ask where she was, why his daughter wasn't living with him, but she didn't want to risk upsetting him. Especially since - judging by the way he was talking about her - there was probably a 50/50 chance she had died.

 The thought made Aurora want to cry. She thought of her little girl from the Hunger Games, of her body hitting the floor with a tiny, final thud, and shoved that thought as far from her head as she could.

 “Wha's her name?” Aurora asked instead, shifting onto her back as she could look up at Reza easier. She felt like she should have more questions than that, but her brain was still waking up.

 REZA

 “Thanks, I made that.” He joked, looking up from the photograph just long enough to give Rory a playful grin.

 His little girl was his proudest accomplishment. She was sweet, funny, and clever, and he loved her so much. Their three times weekly video chats were all he lived for.

 “Sabiha Ibitsam Ghadir Basira bint Reza Kasraoui-Müller. Sabiha means bright like morning, and she always was. Is still, I’m sure.” Reza looked over at Rory with a sad smile. “I only have her through video chat right now. She’s in Tunisia.”

 AURORA

 Oh, sweet, not dead. Aurora felt much less guilty about giggling at Reza’s joke now.

 “Tha’s a lovely name,” she told him with a soft smile. “I would butcher it, but tha’s on me.”

 Stretching her arms over her head one more time - the stretch going all the way down to her toes - Aurora slowly pushed herself up, stopping midway to let the blood rush through her head as it rolled around the room before landing back on her shoulders. It took a moment, but soon she was upright, one knee hugged close to her chest as she rested her cheek against it.

 “At least yer able to chat with her,” Aurora offered softly. “Why didn’t she move here with ye?” Tunisia was a dangerous place for Magicks to be, wasn't it? She couldn't imagine Reza would leave her behind for no reason.

 REZA

 He waited for her to get situated, smiling fondly at her and then keeping the expression as he looked back down at Sabiha’s picture.

 At her question, he almost physically recoiled. There wasn’t judgement in her voice or her expression, but he harbored plenty for the both of them. He was a terrible father, leaving his half-fairy sorceress daughter in Tunisia while he was safe. Even if it wasn’t really his choice it was inexcusable.

 “You don’t have to act like you aren’t thinking it. I know even calling me a father is...generous.” He set her picture down in its place on the nightstand, his fingers lingering over her face, before he cleared his throat and moved over to his desk, leaning back against it instead of bothering to sit down.

 He cleared his throat again and avoided looking at Rory, as if the shame he felt was physically preventing him.

 “Her mother is in Tunisia still. With her. She didn’t want to leave and refused to have her daughter leave her.” Reza shrugged a shoulder and sighed. “Rafika wasn’t and never was my wife or girlfriend or anything, there was no sway I could have held over her decision to stay, really. And it wouldn’t be fair.”

 “To make her leave her Hollow.”

 Reza folded his arms across his chest and began to pace the floor, slowly, so he didn’t dizzy Rory trying to follow him with her eyes. “I didn’t have a choice about leaving my country. I’d applied for political asylum in the past. To the US, Australia, and New Zealand. Declined, of course. I’m a dual citizen of the EU and Tunisia because my mother is Austrian, but despite me not having contact with her from ages 15-18, then 19-nearly 33, my life wasn’t in ‘tangible and bona fide’ danger in both countries I was a citizen of. By the time my daughter was born, I gave up on trying to leave purposely.”

 “But then there was a wedding, and a bomb anti magick people planted there, and I shielded Sabiha in time for it to be me who took a big injury instead of her entire little body being...she wouldn’t have survived. I barely did.” Truthfully, he’d wanted to die. It was by sheer willpower that he stayed awake, and told Sabiha to keep her eyes on his face so she wouldn’t think too much about how her dress was soaked in her father’s blood, and about how when she asked ‘Baba, does it hurt?’ he’d said ‘no’ because he was losing feeling as time passed.

 He ran his fingers through his hair, ruffling it as he heaved a frustrated sigh. He hadn’t meant to give Rory this much tragic backstory. But to explain why he didn’t have Sabiha, he had to.

 Reza reached for the bottle of boukha on the desk and took a big gulp. If he was going to finish this, he needed a drink. Or twenty.

 “Right, so.” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “My father made me go to Austria for medical care. In my...state at the time, I wasn’t really any good for defending myself. My identity as the anonymous activist writer Ares - have I told you about that?- had been exposed shortly before the wedding. I had to leave. It wasn’t a choice anymore.”

 “My sisters came with me because my father insisted they enjoy the safety of Austria. Relative safety.” Reza laughed mirthlessly and took another swig from the bottle. “I wasn’t quite 33 when I left. My daughter was...mm, she was not yet five.”

 Another swig of boukha. “With physical therapy and several surgeries, I was able to walk again and keep both legs. By the time it was time to consider going home, Lamia was ready for university and heard of Swynlake. I was left at an impasse, a Catch-22 of sorts.

 “I could go home to Tunisia to my daughter, but live completely exposed where I’d likely not be able to find employment and a home to rent, or.” Another sip, for a dramatic pause. “I could follow my sisters here and live freely and able to make money to send to my daughter and her mother. That’s all I was ever good for, for Sabiha anyway. I don’t think she had any memories of me other than through her mother’s phone screen. Even when I was in Tunisia, I wasn’t with her much.”

 See? Barely a father. He should have been by his daughter’s side way more than he was, but he wasn’t. There was no excuse.

 Even if it was to provide for her.

 “We lived mainly in the city of Hammamet, but I was a bit of a nomad. Out of necessity. I worked as a fisherman in whatever city had someone willing to pay me the most, and if that was Sousse, Djerba, Tunis, Zarsis, or Kelibia, that is where I went for a few weeks of work.” His pacing came to a stop as his bad knee began to hurt, and he came to rest atop his desk rather than the chair. “When I wasn’t on the boats, I made money as a handyman, and by designing web pages with my mainly self-taught coding skills. When I wasn’t working, I was writing essays and fliers supporting magick rights.”

 Reza capped the bottle of liquor, not about to down the entire thing in front of Aurora, and pushed it to the opposite side of the desk. “If I couldn’t find good enough word fishing, I waited table or tended bars for the European, American, and Emirati tourists in whatever city had the best wages and earning outlook. And if that took me to Sidi Bou Said, Monastir, the Kerkennah Islands, or Mahdia, then that is where I went.”

 “I wanted to be able to put my daughter through private school and math and language tutoring; my raw magic is the gift of tongues, so even without intense study, I learned - mm, it’s not important how many - languages perfectly fine. We don’t know what hers is yet; I want her to learn English and German, because those will take her far in this globalized world. But that takes money in my country.” He tapped his fingers against the table and swallowed. “So I spent most of the time I could have held her working to save up to give her things in a few years, that she was too young to even understand. And not I’m here, not even able to go back to hold her, because it would put her in danger.”

 “Now...I’m not even good for money, if I returned to live in Tunisia. It’s better this way. This way, at least every pound I make translates to almost 3.70 Tunisian Dinar, and Rafika and my father can afford things like private school and tutoring, and extra after school activities, and nice vacations for Sabiha.” Reza swallowed hard, forcing his eyes to not water.

 They weren’t allowed. He didn’t want Rory’s sympathy. Only for her to believe he didn’t just abandon his child.

 “My daughter having a better life than I did is all I have ever wanted. And if all I can ever be for her is the reason that the money is available for that? Then that’s how it has to be. I sacrifice my happiness for hers and my father’s every day that I am here, but knowing she will have opportunities that I didn’t is…” Reza trailed off, and just.

 Smiled.

 “Enough.”

 AURORA

 Aurora had been Reza’s apprentice for almost three months now. She learned something new every day, and was growing as a person and a sorceress as he continued to teach her.

 This was, without a doubt, the most important lesson Reza had ever given her. Or likely ever would.

 Aurora lifted her head as she listened to Reza explain, her eyes following him around the room as he told her about his daughter, their brief time together, and the life he was trying to provide for her - even hundreds and hundreds of miles away. It made her heart ache, every word painting more of the picture of his life, and she…

 Well, she didn’t know what she wanted to do.

 Once he finished, tears stubbornly refusing to fall from his eyes, Aurora didn’t say a word. She simply swung her legs over the edge of the bed, moving slowly as she stood upright. Once she was sure she wasn’t about to collapse from vertigo, Aurora crossed the room to his desk; her bare feet padding against the floor softly. There was no hesitation as she brought herself between his knees, stepping as close to the desk as she could as she wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him tight. Her hands fisted loosely in the back of his shirt as she pressed her cheek against his chest, staring at his shoulder as a few tears of her own rolled down her cheeks.

 (She wanted to tell him that he was so brave, willing to give his life for his daughter. She wanted to tell him that he was brilliant, working so hard to provide for her. She wanted to tell him that no matter how bad of a father he thought he was, he would never be a poorer parent than she was. She didn’t say any of that.)

 “You’re a wonderful father, Reza,” Aurora said softly. “No matter what you think. None of those decisions you made were easy, but you made them for her. I don’t think there’s a more honest and selfless way to love someone. One day, you’ll be able to see her again and tell her in person.”

 REZA

 Reza tensed up when he was hugged. It wasn’t the first time she’d hugged him, but she had just woken up from one of those narcolepsy naps, where there’s the vertigo, and the fucked perception of reality, and he was worried she’d stumble over -

 Oh, well she didn’t. And she seemed sturdy, but he wrapped an arm around her shoulders to return the hug just in case. He stopping hugging her back, but let his arm rest there.

 “I am not entirely sure I ever will, but when she is older, maybe she will understand me like I learned to understand my mother.” In time, Sabiha would.

 AURORA

 “You will,” Aurora said, her grip tightening for a moment and her eyebrows furrowing together with determination. She’d fly Sabiha and her mother out to Swynlake herself to visit, if she had to. She hugged him for a moment longer before slowly letting go, taking a small step back and not looking away from his chest as she wiped her eyes dry. Aurora laughed sheepishly.

 “Sorry, I… shouldn’t have hugged you like that,” she murmured, only meeting his eyes for a moment before glancing away. “Thank you, for telling me. For trusting me with all that.” When she met his eyes again, Aurora had a small, soft smile on her lips, even if there was still a pesky tear or two rolling down her cheeks.

 REZA

 “Right..no apology needed, but you’re not to ask me questions about any of that uninvited. I’ll talk about it when I want to and not a moment sooner or later,” Reza said, stern, but with a thin smile.

 The warning was more of a warning to not expect him to want to talk about it on demand, than an absolute ban on the subject.

 “Go home and rest, Aurora. We can work on collecting reagents tomorrow.”

#&&...hc #&&...sabiha #rory

[lordrethandus]

The Flame That Guides Us Home Pt 1

Stepping back onto Argus after only a week of rest felt like Gonthar was visiting this planet for the first time all over again; the smoldering ash clinging to his wet snout, the dead wind scratching at his hide, the stench of fel sludge and death, all of it felt so foreign. Azeroth drifted between Argus and An’she, casting a colossal black shadow that draped across the whole of the planet; it was as dark as Argus could be away from its mother sun, which only made the impending battle that much more foreboding.

“Are you ready to meet with Illidan’s pet projects and the Naaru’s slaves?” Istrys asked, standing next to her Gonthar. He was beginning to realize why Rethandus was always ignoring her constant quips. He adjusted his belt and gauntlets in front of the cracked and dirty mirror at the base of the Command Tower before nodding. Slowly they stepped back out into the harsh winds of Argus with only the torches lining the walls and the large Draenei warship looming overhead casting any semblance of light. A lightforged beacon sat just outside of Felfathom Keep, south of the entrance. Although Istrys seemed apprehensive of using such a device for obvious reasons, Gonthar was eager to experience the ancient and blessed technology for himself. The Holy Light washed over his body with an intense warmth, making him suddenly feel weightless while the beacon lifted him off the ground. A blinding flash and an instant later and he was inside the warship with a rush of vertigo.

The first thing he noticed were the sheer amount of humming canisters lining the walls. Draenei clad in hulking power armor heaved containers to and fro in the large ovular room, with heavy weapons primed and ready. Right away Gonthar realized the Gladicaar was not just a smaller Vindicaar; this was a strictly military vessel. Being in the midst of so many battle-hardened veterans and weapons put Gonthar’s worries of this campaign at ease.

Istrys appeared behind him a heartbeat later. Her anti-magic shell was flickering all over her smoking armor, and before she could even take the next step, she collapsed onto her hands and knees. “Are you alright?”

Agony flashed across her grimacing face, but she did her best not to show it. “Just fucki-... give me a second…” There was strain in her voice like she had just been punched in the gut. A part of Gonthar pitied her, but that apathy was gone as quickly as it came; she was a necromancer with blood on her hands, before, during, and after the Scourge. While she slowly pushed herself back onto her feet, he couldn’t help but think how an undead of her caliber even used the beacon in the first place. He certainly didn’t think he could survive stepping through a Death Gate.

Before they reached the door leading to the war room, two of the guards lowered their lightforged lances and barked something incomprehensible at them. Gonthar didn’t know how to respond, knowing full well he and Istrys were invited aboard this warship, but their piercing glares focused on the Necromancer put his questions to rest. “Zekil kanrethad! Apsid’eras arakal?!”

“Apsid’eras xi eiostra’eros faralos raka.” Istrys huffed without skipping a beat, causing the two guards to exchange glances before stepping aside to let them pass. “We should hurry,” she continued, clearing her throat. “I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”

“You can speak Eredun?” Gonthar asked as they both walked down the long spiraling hallway. “What did you say to them?”

“Not Eredun. Draenic.” Istrys was still limping from being wreathed in the Light. “I told them we were invited on behalf of their leader, and if we were delayed any further, he would hear about it.” Istrys gave Gonthar a quizzical look. “You better let me do the translating. You're already on thin ice bringing me here… and don't get me started about sending Zolaar ahead. You are aware these Draenei hate warlocks almost as much as the demons they collaborate with... right?”

Gonthar didn't look worried. “He needs to work with them to gain a clear and direct path to Miraan’s flagship. If they’re fine with the Illidari joining this meeting aboard their Gladicaar, one more crippled outcast won’t be cause for alarm.”

“I hope you’re right.”

The Gladicaar’s war room was smaller than Gonthar expected. Three large rings of light hovered inches off the floor in the center and suspended an oval table, with a hologram of Argus - or what was left of it - slowly spinning in the very center of the room. More Draenei guards stood along a balcony above, adorned in armor neither the Sunwalker nor the Necromancer could recognize; they whispered amongst each other the moment the two stepped in, and although Istrys couldn’t see their glowing eyes underneath their strange helmets, she knew all of them were staring at her. Their hatred for undead was common knowledge, and that went double for undead necromancers; how ironic, she thought, that the harder one fervently worshiped the Light, the more they feared the Void. A Lightforged Draenei adorned in glowing armor and a shimmering cloak of light turned away from the table to face Gonthar and Istrys once they ascended the small steps to the main platform, with Istrys immediately taking notice of a great shadow lurking in the dark in the corner. “Ahh. Oathguard finally come, yes? We have little time for talking.”

Istrys and Gonthar exchanged glances before approaching the table. He wouldn’t need a translator after all. “I am Gonthar Sunsheath, Oathguard Commander. This here is Istrys, my second in command.”

“T'aarth is name. Vice Admiral of Gladicaar.” The Draenei beckoned the fel creature sulking in the corner over, which provoked him to rise to his towering height and step into the light.

“Lord Blightclaw. Illidari.” The Night Elf - or what was left of him after his grisly transformation into a Demon Hunter - studied the two newcomers behind his tattered blindfold. “Now that introductions are out of the way, we should explain our roles in this operation.”

The Sunwalker cleared his throat before speaking. “The Oathguard stands ready to breach Miraan’s flagship and take the fight to her directly. I trust my… colleague… has discovered the rest of the sequence?”

“Your pet warlock has proven himself useful enough.” Lord Blightclaw shrugged, inadvertently shaking his leathery wings. “But there's a problem. Miraan resides in the Krakenax, one of the more… notorious… world-burners. We’ll need more time to charge our gateway. Time we can’t afford.”

T'aarth nodded his head with a grimace spread cross his lips. “Before boarding ship, we must disable first. Powerful guns cut through Gladicaar like knife through butter. Krakenax lay waste to ground forces too.” He paused to study everyone closely. “Anti-aircraft cannons prevent direct approach. But we cannot destroy cannons without Krakenax intervention.”

“So we need to clip her wings before our infiltration. But we can't do that while the ship is hiding behind her ground fortifications, and we can't destroy them without fiery death raining down on us from above?” Istrys crossed her arms and scowled. “I don't suppose anyone has any ideas?”

“Just one.” Lord Blightclaw said. “The Illidari will rush one of the cannons and make as much noise as we can to draw her out of hiding.”

“That would be suicide…” Gonthar muttered. “You would march your hunters to their deaths for a distraction? Why?”

Vice Admiral T'aarth pounded his fist against his chest. “Warframe squadrons will then attack Krakenax. Miraan will be distracted... so ship will be vulnerable to infiltration.”

Gonthar didn't know how to respond to this plan. The Illidari were willing to use themselves as bait, and the Army of the Light wanted to send a few squadrons against a Burning Legion flagship and whatever anti-air guns planetside. A massacre would be the best case scenario. “If this is our best course of action… so be it.”

“It is only course of action.” The Vice Admiral assured him, staring the tauren down with his blindingly golden eyes.

“Don't feel too bad for us, Commander Gonthar.” Lord Blightclaw sneered through razor-sharp teeth. “You'll be the ones in the belly of the beast to face Miraan head on.” He leaned forward and furrowed his brow at him. “Can your Oathguard handle that? Are you up to the task?”

Gonthar’s mane bristled while he stood as straight as he could. “We will not let you down.”

“Good. My Demon Hunters are already on the move.” Lord Blightclaw waved his hand dismissively before turning his back to the others. “Suffer well.”

Istrys rolled her eyes as he left, clearly unimpressed. Gonthar saluted the Vice Admiral then turned to leave as well, but he didn’t make it three steps before the guards near the door stood in their way again. “Wait. Commander Gonthar.” T’aarth called out, stepping around the table. “I have personal favor to ask. If you would listen, yes?”

“Of course.” Gonthar and Istrys exchanged skeptical glances. “What would you ask of me?”

Vice Admiral T’aarth waved one of the guards atop the balcony. “J’azel! Tichar ashj tiriosh!” The tapping of the guard’s hooves against the floor put a sly smirk across Istrys’ face, but she wasn’t dumb enough to say anything. The Draenei stopped beside the Vice Admiral, and slowly removed her helmet to reveal a full head of golden blonde hair and striking yellow eyes. “Enkil buras… azgala ruuk.”

The woman nodded, and turned to Gonthar and Istrys before clearing her throat. “Hello… J’azel is name…” Her orcish was even worse than the Vice Admiral’s. “When fighting on Krakenax begins… please let talk… let talk to Miraan.”

“Talk?” Istrys scowled. “We’re here to kill that bitch, not negotiate. We’re going to cut her nose to navel and find out what she’s really made of.”

“Please…” J’azel insisted. “Please let talk to Miraan.”

“We’ve talked to this woman before.” Gonthar said, shooting Istrys a burning glare. “She’s a ruthless monster… why would we risk giving her the upper hand?” J’azel looked to T’aarth, who slowly nodded back at her.

“Miraan is…” She paused, letting her gaze drop to the floor. “... sister.”

#The War on Argus

[amarrymeinbostonwriter]

NaNoWriMo 2019 Day 18 Word Count Update!

I technically won today but I’m nowhere near actually finishing this novel. XD It’s a whole lotta nonsense. I promise you. I even made Yuuki and Benvolio fight over whether Madonna or Cher was a better pop star because that’s about my brain level at this point in the semester. ;-; 

I really don’t know why anyone expects exceptional intellectual work from me this time of year- it’s so shitty for my brain/mood/depression. I don’t have half the energy I had in October/September it’s like November came and hit me with a bag of bricks. I tried to do more work earlier in the school year to avoid this as much as possible but semesters always heap their work at the end even if you try to do your work ahead of time. :/ 

Anyways, I’ll stop bitching and present you with the current word count. I plan on adding to it until the end of November, maybe not as intensely though since I did technically beat the NaNoWriMo Challenge of writing 50k words in the same project during the month of November. So yay me! :P

Day 18 Word Count: 50,613 words! 

Excerpt (JJ narrates- he’s overhearing Sienna and Benvolio’s disagreement- Chapter 15):

Benvolio was even nominated to sing in Eurovision 2023 for Italy while in Milan for his extended holiday despite living in America for most of the year. He had surprised Sienna with the news after one of our meetings. She didn’t seem thrilled for him since she herself was so focused on the campaign.      

 “Oh, that’s great, babe.”                 

“Sienna, I am going to go for it. I have to compete in February at San Remo against all the other singers and musicians.”                 

“Wait, when in February, Benvolio? We have you booked to do our campaign concerts.”                 

“The last weekend, I was going to book my tickets for the week before-“ He began to reply but Sienna promptly cut him off, impatient with him. 

I couldn’t help but smile to myself. 

“You’ve already won Eurovision once, Benvolio. Can’t you just skip it this year? This is not a good time-“ Sienna said. 

“And offend the Eurovision council and worse disappoint all my fans? No, Principessa, I have to go now. This would be the last year I could qualify for four or maybe eight years. In eight years from now, I will be nearly forty years old. It’s easier to win Eurovision when you are still young and hot.”

He realizes that the consequence of his wife’s winning the presidency would make it extremely difficult for him to travel as a musician. He would be endowed with the title of First Man and that would overtake all other duties he might have until his wife left office. I didn’t credit Benvolio with enough vision, but as airy as he seemed, he had thought about what Sienna’s success in politics would do to his music career. Benvolio is entirely right that there is no way that the American government would let him compete in Eurovision while married to the President of the United States. This would absolutely be his last chance to return to that hollowed stage for several years to come. In fact, any concerts or touring would be a nightmare because of all the security risks it would entail.

 As the First Man, he’d be a caged bird that sings beautifully, and I could tell by the slack in his shoulders that he knew it too. I wonder if Sienna had considered how they both would give up their freedoms to serve the people of this great nation. She seemed to have no regrets and seemed to steam-roll on, like the powerhouse I knew her to be.

“Maybe you’d be better off-“ Sienna began and didn’t finish her sentence. 

 “What do you mean, Principessa?” Benvolio is rigid, truly scared of her refusal to explain herself. Sienna only shakes her head, her great mane of thick black hair a cloud of upset. 

 “You know what, baby, you go qualify for Eurovision and make me a proud wife.” She pulls him into an embrace which he accepts gratefully. 

“I will try my best!” He responded then, happy to be out of the choppy waters that Sienna had sailed them through.

 “Will you be able to make the rallies?” She asks him, having pushed herself back so she could look at his face, read his reactions better.

“If they aren’t the same weekend as San Remo 2023 then, yes, of course I will.” Benvolio smiles, hazel eyes shining; he means it.

“I think we somehow managed to book a rally every weekend except that one.” 

 “God is on our side, then, perhaps, Sienna?” He points up to the sky and his smile is brighter now.

“I wouldn’t make any bets, yet, Benvolio. Just go practice for your rehearsals and pray that we can win over enough people to make all this work worth it.” 

“You got it, Principessa!” He winks, kisses her cheek and runs off singing a song I’ve never heard the like of before, likely whatever he’s going to show at that song competition that he and Sienna nearly had a spat over. 

#JJ really doesn't like Benvolio if that isn't obvious #He's jealous of him though he'd never admit it XD #I have no idea how realistic this is but I thought it was more coherent than most of the other stuff I wrote today #Almost 4k words!!! #Sienna would be more thrilled if she wasn't so focused on the campaign #She sorta has tunnel vision #Also I have no idea how awkward or stressful it would be to president or married to the president #I'm just imagining it for this book series #I already know how this is suppose to end but it would be spoilers a go go #yes the purple party has campaign concerts #nanowrimo #nanowrimo 2019 #writing #my writing #writeblr #Yay I won NaNoWriMo today #my 50k word was clipboard XD #spiral speaks #I personally like Cher more than Madonna but 80s Madonna had so many solid hits #The Cult of Moderation #Feel a lot like the face Ethel is making in the GIF lol

[isolated-loser]

Log 0020, 4:44am, 3/7/2019

Eh!

So, shaggy chose to be at my table. And I may have had his Pc incised by a gorgeous cyan tiefling woman into abandoned building alone, where he may have gotten jumped by 17 other tieflings. Note fun as hell. Honestly, it’s been really nice having him around. Like holy shit an active experienced player?!?!?! What the fuck is this gift? Like, I’m not as into him as I remember being. Like I’m not saying he isn’t attractive, cuss he blatantly is. Plus he’s a really cool dude. I think my heavy drinking early in year changed my memory, of how much I was in to him, gods that was a bad time. I’m not saying I don’t like him, I think he’s great!

So, Mondays the 24th’s session was mostly exploding the main city during a festival, dude gut bit by some zambos in the arena, made to roll for infection, got really bad infection, other player are like fuck him and take forever to get him to a temple. Same dude fallowed some nice tail to an abandoned building, get the shit beat out of him, though it left alive. Many drugs are obtained.

Two players go to the red-light districted; one gets a fade to black with an exotic dancer. The other had gone outside to buy more drugs, and falls a nether person down a back alley, note he’s a dumbass, 9 other dude jump form thynn building top, amazingly is in beat to an inch of his life a 3ed time in one night, came back in dance club sees friend being ushered into back. Then he’s noticed by a handsome stranger, whom first thinks his a chick then there off to handsome strangers place fade to black.

A nether player saw them headed to the red light districted, was like naw and when back toward the festival flouts which he wanted to fight. A lovely lady asked if he wanted to get on the flout he was all the beasts, something, something, and she was like new these robos, he like ah, and ten she helps him on one. One of the other peps on the flout taped are dude and glitter did cover are man, monuments later he asks for a confetti spell to be cast, and are player performs cool tricks with his explosive weapon and thynn confetti. Are last player had just returned to the guild hall to analyzed a gifted rose amulet, to see if it had ofer abilities then what was stated. It was a fun session.

Tuesday, I went to paint jam like the usual. Saw a nice older guy, high key a paint master, so shall he be labeled. Note not the paint teacher, whom to be known as the Paint Guy, though, the Paint Guy didn’t show up as he was stuck out of state, but that’s inconsequential to the point of this. So, Paint Master, came in and did some paining and we chatted like you do at paint jam. At some point we start talking about DnD as nerds do, he asks about the one shot I ran a while back, told him it went well and that I Dm On Mondays now. At some point I told him I was just running with the players hand book, cuss I didn’t have any of the others, and he offer to send me some PDFs of some of th DND books, and I was like that be cool. So now I have the DMs Guide and The Monster Manual, which is just fab.

It was great seeing Nymph, she complemented my new hair cut a bunch. Which was really nice, she’s all was complemented my hair. She’s so fucking sweet. It was wonderful seeing her. I just love her.

In Lash’s campaign only 4 of us could make it. Though, we killed that son of a bitch blade singer, the blacksmith I punched turned out to be a badass asamar, I got a cool new item that makes it where I can casted scorching ray twice per long rest I believe.  It’d pretty cool. Still need to get some new boot though, lol. I got a long bow as well, some ranged damage, like I’m not proficient with it, but I don’t care, it’s a bow, I go pew pew.

I’m running a one-off Thursday, the 4th. It’s going to be like underwater horror, Haunted sunken ship full of kuo-toa with a kraken outside, was what I was thinking. I’m prohibiting elf, humans, half elf, & derivatives of, cus i want some odd races in this one shot.

I did the volunteering with the rabbit rescue, it was awful, I was hot, choking on hair, spiders were everywhere, I had rabbit hair in my eyes, and you know what? I’m glad I did it. Do I want to do it again? Not really. Will I? Probability. But that was only half of it. I tried to do some grooming too. I feel I did poorly, but I’ll get better with time. I just hope I made a rabbits life a little better.      

So…

Yesterday’s session, Monday the 1, was pretty fun too, though not as role play heavy. Are players whom got fade to blacks had to Rom For Stds, the one whom slept with a exotic dancer got crabs, the other narrowly expand syphilis. Some role play stuff, then to and airship run by goblins, a little while after they got in the air ship they fight some sky pirates, there leader the tall muscular man with sky blue Gandalf beard, wearing nothing but purple glittery booty shorts, saw that these dude be beating my shit fuck this and then just jumps ship. One of the player had set both ships on fire & both when down. Everyone survives. O like a dungeon no thinks, woops spick devils usher them in to the dungeon, and fight.

I keep thinking about Crush-kun, who shall be called Eyebrows from now forward, and I don’t like it, it frankly pisses me off, to no end. It’s not his fault, . I don’t know why my brain has to torture me like this. Honestly, I don’t know him super well, but here my head goes into fantasy conversations with him… I’m so fucking tired of think about him. Gods he’s just so nice, and attractive. I really hate thinking about him. No I don’t I love it, but I hate that I love it. It’s like dumping seawater in and massive gash.

Eyebrows hugged me twice Monday, idk why it was odd. I hugged Presh, and Eyebrows was like could I get a hug, not odd, and I’m borderline in love with this man no matter how much I hate that, so I was like yeah.  Then I walked over hugged him, then during he’s like let me put down my drink, I let go put his drink down and hugged me again did something a bit weird with his arms than let go, there was a joke about him not braking my ribs this time, cuss when I hugged him Thursday I made a joke about wanting a hug not broken ribs, note the hug was really soft especially in comparison to the last couple of times, I’ve hugged him. Note not helping with the adoring him thing… Then he said he was going to swing me around but didn’t because of the chair, the weird thing he did with his arm explained. Then I told him I thought his wolf necklace was cool, cuss it legitimately is, and said that he always had it, and I was like yeah I know I just hadn’t said anything, he said something along the lines of look at you noticing things, or something like that, I said something like I notice a lot of things like the irritating fact that you hair is 75 different colors all the time, he said something like sorry my hairs irritating but yours is so cute then he said what color his hair is, a few more thing were said I don’t remember well. Just fuck.

Gods, I hate that I adore this basterd. I know, I’m over thinking this, but I feel like he acts weird around me. I’d swear to all the gods to have ever existed that he’s fucking with me. This shit is really too fuckin much for me. These emotions are so strong foreign, it’d overwhelming. It’s killing me.

Wait that’s an idea! *runs to nearest knife* Freedom!!! *stabs self 27 times in the chest* *collapses*

So today I woke up depressed. Just fab right?

Then got dressed, packed my paint shit, and went to paint jam. Got to see Paint Master chatted & got to see the cool shit he’s working on. Got him to join discord, and in the shops server. Some good memes man, some good memes.

Now I’ve finished with most of what I have thought about.

Sighing Off…

Favorite song today: Almost Human by Voltaire, She will always hate me by James Blunt, & Catharsis by Motionless In White

Mood: Pretty good, till I woke up today

#intp #bipolar #actuallybipolar #stupid crushing bullshit #personal #DnD #dnd5e #Dungeons and Dragons #5e #dming is fun

[diarrheaworldstarhiphop]

The gunman who attacked members of Congress on Wednesday morning, wounding a GOP leader, had a long history of domestic violence that included the use of a gun and hated Republicans.

James T. Hodgkinson, 66, of Belleville, Illinois, opened fire on a congressional baseball practice outside of Washington, D.C., a senior law-enforcement official told The Daily Beast. Hodgkinson was killed by police.

House Majority Whip Steve Scalise, two Capitol Police officers, and congressional staffers were wounded. They are all expected to survive, according to police. 

Hodgkinson may have practiced before the attack, a neighbor told The Daily Beast.

On March 24, neighbor William Schaumleffel called the St. Clair County Sheriff’s Office to complain that Hodgkinson had fired approximately 15 shots outside. A responding officer found Hodgkinson shooting into nearby trees and advised him to stop, according to a sheriff’s report, which added that Hodgkinson had a valid firearm license.

“I thought, my God, what is that guy shooting?” Schaumleffel recalled.

He told The Daily Beast that he was out in his backyard with his grandchildren when the shooting started. He heard one shot, then another, and then three in rapid succession.

Hodgkinson held the gun to his shoulder and fired across Schaumleffel’s field, he said. Schaumleffel said he yelled to him to say that there were houses in that direction and that he should stop, but wasn’t sure if he heard him.

The shooting started again, in what Schaumleffel now calls “target practice.”

“I told my wife, ‘hey, I’m gonna call the sheriff. He’s liable to turn the gun on us,’” Schaumleffel said.

Schaumleffel said he had never met Hodgkinson, and said that almost everyone in the neighborhood owned a gun. But no one starts shooting randomly, into the distance, like Hodgkinson did.

“He was being very reckless that day,” Schaumleffel said.

Shortly after the incident, Hodgkinson reportedly left Illinois and was living in Virginia.

A brutal foster father

Hodgkinson had a history of violence that did not rise to the level to prohibit him from legally owning a firearm.

He was the foster father of at least two girls. The first, Wanda Ashley Stock, 17, committed suicide in 1996 by pouring gasoline on herself and setting herself on fire after a few months of living with the Hodgkinsons, the Belleville News-Democrat reports. The Hodgkinsons gave an interview to the paper after her suicide, calling her a “very practical, level-headed girl.”

Privacy laws do not allow the Illinois Department of Children and Family Services to release foster records.

In 2002, Hodgkinson became the foster father of another girl whom he allegedly abused, according to police records.

In 2006, he was arrested for domestic battery and discharge of a firearm after he stormed into a neighbor’s home where his teenage foster daughter was visiting with a friend. In a skirmish, he punched his foster daughter’s then 19-year-old friend Aimee Moreland “in the face with a closed fist,” according to a police report reviewed by The Daily Beast. When Moreland’s boyfriend walked outside of the residence where Moreland and Hodgkinson’s foster daughter were, he allegedly aimed a shotgun at the boyfriend and later fired one round. The Hodgkinsons later lost custody of that foster daughter.

“[Hodgkinson] fired a couple of warning shots and then hit my boyfriend with the butt of the gun,” Moreland told The Daily Beast on Wednesday.

Hodgkinson was also “observed throwing” his daughter “around the bedroom,” the police report said. After the girl broke free, Hodgkinson followed and “started hitting her arms, pulling her hair, and started grabbing her off the bed.”

Moreland said Hodgkinson’s daughter “told me a lot of stories that he was really awful to her.”

“According to his foster daughter, he was always angry,” Moreland said. “She was really unhappy there. She had come over to get away from them.”

When Moreland tried escaping with Hodgkinson’s daughter in a vehicle, Hodgkinson reached inside and “turned off the ignition,” the report said.

“We were panicked and when I tried to reverse, I hit neutral instead and he opened my car door and hit me, and then came to her car door and pulled out a knife and cut her seatbelt and dragged her out,” Moreland said. “She was only 15 or 16, I think. She was so tiny.”

“Do I think he’s capable of [the shooting]?” Moreland said. “Definitely.

“It sounds really awful, but I’m not surprised,” she said. “Every interaction I’ve had I’ve thought, ‘that guy’s crazy.’”

At court, Hodgkinson was no less angry. Moreland said that at an initial court appearance, Hodgkinson had to be removed from the courtroom after a series of eruptions.

“Every time the judge would talk to me, he would have an outburst and start screaming,” Moreland said.

The charges were dismissed, Moreland said, after she got her dates “mixed up” and failed to appear on time for a second court date.

“I tried to tell the court that this guy’s crazy, that this is a big deal, but they didn’t listen to me,” she said.

A Daily Beast reporter tracked down Judge Brian Babka, who presided over the April 2006 charges, at his home in a quiet middle-class subdivision of Belleville. The reporter heard him tell his wife to say that he was not available. The judge would not come to the door to answer questions about why the case was dismissed.

Angry at home, irate online

In June 2006, police were dispatched to Hodgkinson’s home in response to a domestic dispute that began when Hodgkinson allegedly hit a woman’s dog while it slept in her driveway, according to a sheriff’s report.

Hodgkinson also repeatedly called the police to report people on his lawn. In February 2005, he called police to claim juveniles had driven drunk on his property; although there was no damage, he requested extra patrols in the area. In August 2006, he called police to report a vehicle doing a donut in his yard overnight. In January 2007, he called the police after his neighbors’ trash company allegedly turned around on his driveway. In February 2007, he called police to report a car driving on his lawn.

Politically, Hodgkinson was also angry at Republicans, as expressed in letters to the Belleville News-Democrat newspaper.

“I don’t ever again want to hear how great a president [Ronald Reagan] was,” he wrote in March 2010. “All he did was give tax breaks to the rich and put the rest of the country (or at least 13.1 percent) out of work.

“To think the Republican Party can call this man their idol is un-American,” he added. “It’s all about the money.”

The year before, he suggested in a letter to the editor that legalizing or decriminalizing marijuana would be a way to “stimulate the economy.”

“Also to fund the government deficit I hope the Obama administration raises the income tax rate for the rich to 70 percent or more,” he wrote.

On social media, Hodgkinson presented himself as a Sanders supporter and a longtime critic of Republicans, particularly Trump. (Sanders said in a statement that Hodgkinson had volunteered on his campaign.)

Hodgkinson’s Facebook profile was linked to his listed telephone number.

“Trump is a Traitor,” Hodgkinson wrote in a May 22 Facebook post above a Change.org petition to remove Trump and Vice President Mike Pence for treason. “Trump Has Destroyed Our Democracy. It’s Time to Destroy Trump & Co.”

On Facebook, he was a member of groups including “Terminate the Republican Party,” “The Road To Hell Is Paved With Republicans,” “Donald Trump is not my President,” and “Memic Overlords.” He recently became particularly vocal, posting anti-Trump messages multiple times a day over two Facebook accounts. The Atlanta Journal-Constitution reports he attacked Republican congressional candidate Karen Handle, writing on Facebook: “Republican Bitch Wants People to Work for Slave Wages, when a Livable Wage is the Only Way to Go!”

Hodgkinson’s brother told The New York Times he was distraught by Trump’s victory. “I know he wasn’t happy with the way things were going, the election results and stuff,” Michael Hodgkinson said.

Hodgkinson’s Facebook account is vocal in support of Sanders, who lost the Democratic presidential nomination last year. On Twitter, Hodgkinson has tweeted at Sanders as early as 2014. Many of his friends are also Sanders supporters, according to social media.

On a mission?

Neighbor Aaron Meurer told The Daily Beast he lived next to Hodgkinson and his wife for about six years.

“I knew he wasn’t very happy when Trump got elected,” he said, adding that Hodgkinson had a Sanders sign in his yard during the election.

But he hadn’t seen Hodgkinson lately, estimating it had been a few weeks to a couple of months, Meurer said.

“I thought maybe he retired and went on a trip,” he said. “I know he bought a new van. He always drove a truck and then he all the sudden had a van one day.”

And while Meurer never saw Hodgkinson with a gun, he said he wouldn’t be surprised if he had owned one.

“I assume he had guns,” he said. “We live out in a rural area—everybody has guns out here.”

Hodgkinson reportedly left Illinois several weeks ago and was living in Alexandria prior to the attack. Former Alexandria mayor Bill Euille told The Washington Post that he had spoken with Hodgkinson every morning for the past month and a half at a local YMCA. Euille said he frequently observed Hodgkinson showering or working on his laptop at the gym.

Hodgkinson was unemployed and appeared to be living out of his gym bag. “What I did notice about this gentleman is he’d open up his gym bag and in it, he had everything he owned,” Euille told the Post. “He was living out of the gym bag.”

—with additional reporting by P. Richelle White in Belleville, Illinois, and Patricia Murphy in Atlanta, Georgia

#james hodgkinson

[beaniesandmilkshakes]

ash and smoke (2/?)

previous part

summary:  A civil war is brewing between the north and south sides of Riverdale, being fueled by none other than the mayor Hal Cooper. When Betty meets the mysterious Southside Serpent Jughead Jones at a party, the revolution is only just sparking. It isn’t until the town is burning to ash around them that they confess their love, but by then it might just be too late.

author’s note: so sorry for the delay in updating, my computer broke and i hit the fateful writer’s block once it was fixed, but i’m back! i also made a spotify playlist based around this fic. the songs aren’t in a particular order and some don’t even have to do with the plot, mainly just for the aesthetic of the story. so please give it a follow if you’d like! enjoy xo!

read on ao3

masterpost

Jughead Jones watched as the Riverdale High girls drove off. Probably heading back to their non-mobile homes with two stories and a white picket fence. He thought to himself, before heading back into the party.

 He didn’t normally socialize during Serpent parties, but when he caught wind that three northside girls had crashed, Jughead decided to come out from the shadows to see what they wanted. Of course, he hadn’t expected to see Vince trying to feel a blonde up when he came downstairs, but his anxiety spiked once he realized who exactly the girl was.

 Now that she and her friends had driven off, all Jughead could hope for was that the Cooper girl didn’t tell her dad about the house.

 “Hey Jug, I’m in the mood for a smoke, wanna join me?” Harvey Kinkle moved his way through the crowd, his signature charming smile in place. Jughead shrugged in response.

 “Sure,” The two boys headed to an empty room upstairs, opening the windows and lighting up their cigarettes. Jughead exhaled a cloud of smoke, watching it disappear into the night sky.

 “Hey Harvey, when’s your homecoming game again?” Jughead asked, flicking the ash on the end of his cigarette.

 “This Friday, actually,” Harvey responded, raising an eyebrow. “Why are you asking?”

 “What?”

 “Jug, the past five years I’ve known you, I’ve never once heard you take an interest in anything involving physical activity.” Harvey laughed, nudging his friend. “Does this have anything to do with those Rivervixens crashing earlier?”

 “Well, what if I just want to come and support my friend, who just happens to be playing his first game as captain?” Jughead sighed, running a hand through his dark hair, his beanie having been thrown onto a chair across the room. Harvey rolled his eyes.

 “Whatever you say Jug.” With that, the two fell back into a comfortable silence, Jughead’s daydreams of those soft green eyes looking back at him filling his mind.

  By the time Friday rolled around, Betty was absolutely exhausted.

 Homecoming week was a whirlwind of decorating the fieldhouse and dealing with an even more uptight Cheryl Blossom for an extra two hours a day. The homecoming game was the Vixen’s annual chance to show up the Greendale Giants, and seeing as it was lead by none other than Cheryl’s “mortal enemy” Sabrina Spellman, the Vixen’s routine had to be flawless.

 “Betty, you have bags under your eyes,” Alice Cooper noted dully, sipping her tea. Betty clenched her fist, which had more crescent-shaped wounds than usual, the stress of the past few days building up little by little. Polly noticed how her sister tensed and cleared her throat.

 “You can borrow my concealer Betty,” She offered, shooting her a warm smile. Before Betty had time to respond, Alice interjected.

 “That won’t be necessary Polly, Betty’s much paler than you.” Betty pursed her lips and Polly stared at her lap, mumbling an apology. “Just make sure you fix yourself up before the game tonight, Betty. You wouldn’t want to look weak in front of the entire town, would you?” There was an edge to her mother’s voice that reminded Betty of when her father was campaigning for mayor. ‘Remember Betty, just smile and wave. ‘Don’t speak unless spoken to. If you act out you make our family look weak.’

 Betty swallowed and nodded, “I’ll pick up a concealer during my lunch hour at the drugstore.” Alice nodded and turned to Polly to ask about where she and Jason will take their homecoming photos, signaling that the previous conversation was over. She had been displeased to find that Betty hadn’t found a homecoming date, and would be going stag for the second year in a row. Another reason to be called a failure to the Cooper name.

 “You know mom doesn’t mean what she said, we’re the same skin tone for God’s sake!” Polly sighed as the two drove to school twenty minutes later, Betty staring out the passenger’s seat window.

 “It’s fine, Pol. She’s always been like that with me, and in three years I’ll be off at college where she can’t control me anymore.”

 “Yeah, well next year I’ll be off at college and I hate to think of what kind of sick mind games she’ll play with you when I’m gone,” Polly reached for her sister’s hand and the two shared a look of sorrow. The Cooper sisters had always been close, never having the petty sibling rivalries that the movies depict. Betty wouldn’t lie and say the thought of her sister leaving next year was heartbreaking, but she would never dare admit it out loud. If she did, Polly’s loyalty would force her to stay home, attending the community college and leaving behind her bright future, adding another thing to the long list of guilt Betty would hold with her.

 “I’ll be fine, I’m a big girl now, remember? And besides, I’ve got Veronica and Cheryl, not to mention Mom finally caved and got me meds at the start of the year.” It had taken years of begging and countless “episodes”, but Alice Cooper had finally made an appointment with a psychologist two towns over to get Betty a prescription for anxiety medication. Although the dosage was still small, Betty had felt the effects almost immediately.

 Polly sighed, pulling into the school parking lot, “Whatever you say Betts, and remember, I’m always a phone call away.” Betty laughed.

 “You’re making it sound like you're leaving tonight,”

 “I wish, but it’s never too early to start reminding you,” The oldest Cooper daughter winked at her sister and the two made their way into school.

  “Alright bitches, tonight needs to be perfect,” Cheryl smiled at the group of girls crowded in front of her in the girl’s locker room. The Vixens went on in three minutes during halftime, and the game was currently tied. Tension was high not only on the field but in the stands too.

 “She really needs to learn how to give better pep talks,” Veronica whispered to Betty, who bit her lip to suppress a giggle.

 “Those Giant sluts need to learn that we’re superior, nevermind the fact that they’ve beat us at regionals twice,” The redhead glared at Ginger, who notably fell flat on her face in an attempt to do a triple backflip two years in a row. “Anyways, let’s get out there and show Sabrina and her tragic excuse of a squad what us Vixens are made of,” As the girls started to shuffle towards their places, Cheryl shouted one last order. “And remember, amp up the sex appeal!”

 Betty took a deep breath, Cheryl’s final words ringing in her ears. She could be sexy, right? After the number of hours being shown the exactly the right way to move her hips, flaunt her breasts, and use her best assets, sexy should come naturally to her.

 “Ladies and gentlemen, introducing, the Riverdale High Rivervixens!” Dilton Doiley’s voice boomed over the PA, and the music started to blast as the crowd cheered. Betty tried her best, letting her body move to the music. She plastered on the fake smile she had mastered since she was six-years-old and moved her head so her ponytail bounced to the beat. When the routine was finished, Ginger had landed her backflip successfully and the Riverdale stands were on their feet. Veronica shot Betty a knowing smile, and the blonde blushed.

 “Amazing job girls, but as always, it could have been better. Shiela, your form was less than impressive, and Ginger, that backflip cut it too close. One more fuck up and you're out.”

 “Cheryl-” Veronica started, before Betty put a hand on her shoulder, a silent signal to back off. While it was the best performance they’d done by far, there was no use in arguing with Cheryl Blossom. The girl was always critical about everything.

 “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear you Aspirante Puta. Alright, everyone get out of my sight.”

 “Perra,” The raven-haired cheerleader mumbled before turning back to her friend. “Wanna grab some concessions and wait for Archie to get out?”

 “Sure, just as long as my mom doesn’t catch me eating any carbs.” Betty shrugged.

 Luckily, the Coopers had left after halftime due to a “very important meeting” Hal had to attend in the morning, leaving Betty to eat all the soft pretzels she wanted. As she turned to go find Veronica, who had run off to wait outside the boy’s locker room, she locked eyes with the last person she’d expect to see.

 “Ah, so the cheerleader sneaks a pretzel, how scandalous of you,” Jughead Jones was leaning against the bleachers, his arms crossed and a smirk on his face. He wasn’t wearing his serpent jacket, but Betty figures he’d be stupid to show up in a gang uniform to a northside football game.

 “Uh, what are you doing here?” Betty asked, cringing at how rude her words had come out.

 “Friends with the Greendale captain, and I just couldn’t miss the chance to see his team in action.” His excuse didn’t ease Betty’s nerves. “Relax, I’m not going to kidnap you, I just wanted to talk to the pretty girl who crashed my party again, and apologize for my asshole friend, again.” Oh, Betty thought, feeling guilty that her first instinct was to fear him. Jughead seemed a lot nicer than Cheryl had made him out to be.

 “Well thanks, and I’m fine, so uh, apology accepted.”

 “You won’t mind if I ask a question that’s been confusing me since I first saw you?”

 “Uh, sure I guess?” Betty bit her lip as Jughead ran his hand through his hair.

 “What was the mayor’s daughter doing at a southside party? Because if you went last weekend to find some danger, I’d suggest you stay away.” That wasn’t exactly the question Betty had been expecting.

 “It was a dare, sorry if we ruined your party but Cheryl really likes pulling us into stupid shit.” Under the field lights, Betty was able to make out his features more clearly than in the dim house, and she noticed the small freckles that dotted his tanned skin. As soon as he noticed her staring, though, she looked away quickly, a slight blush spreading across her cheeks. Jughead was more attractive than she remembered.

 “B!” Veronica called in the distance, snapping Betty out of her thoughts.

 “So…” Jughead rubbed the back of his neck, not knowing how to end the conversation.

 “Wanna get a milkshake at Pop’s sometime?” Betty blurted out, slapping her hand over her mouth once she realized what she had just said.

 “I mean, only if you want to,” She stumbled over her words and Jughead smirked. Though his stance would state otherwise, there was a flash of pain and longing in his eyes before he spoke.

 “Maybe one day, till then stay out of the south Cooper, you never know what kind of snakes will bite,” Before Betty could protest he was walking off towards a bleach blonde Greendale cheerleader and Veronica was at Betty’s side, Archie trailing behind her.

 “Hey, we’re going to grab some celebratory milkshakes, join us?” Veronica smiled, her eyes flitting to the raven haired boy across the field.

 “Sure!” Betty said as enthusiastically as she could without sounding fake. She shot Archie a smile and the three friends walked towards Archie’s beat up truck.

 Veronica turned to Betty and whispered, “And once we’re alone, you're going to explain why the hell Riverdale’s own Holden Caulfield was doing talking to you,” Oh lord, Betty thought. It’s going to be a long night.

#bughead #riverdale fanfic #ash and smoke #bughead fanfic #betty cooper #betty and jughead #betty x jughead #jughead jones