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roosterforme · 5 months

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Adult Education Part 10 | Hangman x OC

Summary: The rest of the weekend at Jake's place felt like a dream, but Jessica's fraternity fundraiser was quickly approaching. She crashes back to reality on Monday when she has to face Brian again. But just maybe she finally has the right people on her side.

Warnings: Fluff, smut, angst, swearing, 18+

Length: 4500 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female OC

This story is part of the Beer Boy and Sugar universe but can be read on its own! Adult Education masterlist

Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Banner by @mak-32

Jessica took a few minutes to get cleaned up in Jake's bathroom. She felt flushed and warm, and when she looked in the mirror, her cheeks were bright pink. Even after taking off her glasses and splashing some water on her face, she looked flustered.

She sat on the closed toilet lid for a moment. She was completely naked, and she could hear Jake in the kitchen, and she didn't know what she was supposed to do. "Oh god," she moaned, running her fingers through her messy hair. Was she supposed to change back into her clothes from earlier? Or dress in her nightie even though it was only mid afternoon? What had Jake changed into after she ducked in here?

After a few deep breaths, she opened the door and walked out into the living room and peeked into the kitchen where Jake was arranging things on the counter. She took in his broad shoulders and the fact that he was only wearing his underwear. "Can I borrow a shirt?" she asked, and he spun to face her with a huge smile.

Maybe she should have been a little self conscious with the way he was looking at her. This was honestly the first time she's been exclusive with a guy before sleeping with him, and now she felt a little foolish for walking around his condo completely nude. "Of course," he replied softly. "Don't want you getting cold. Plus maybe you'll let me take it off of you later."

Okay. So he still thought she was desirable after they had sex and when her hair and makeup were a mess. "There's a good possibility," she whispered, thinking about his body above and beneath hers.

Jake kissed her cheek and took her by the hand, leading her back into his bedroom. "Help yourself to whatever you want," he told her, opening a few of his dresser drawers. "Undershirts. Shorts. Longhorns shirts."

She laughed as he squeezed her hand. "You have a whole drawer full of Longhorns shirts? Seems kind of crazy you didn't even want to watch the game earlier." She reached into the drawer and pulled out an orange tee shirt as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"Yeah, well... you were on my lap. Rubbing on my dick. What the hell else was I supposed to be focused on?" He looked a little flushed too as she pulled the shirt over her head and then adjusted her glasses.

"Nothing else," she said softly. "Just me."

With his hand wrapped around her waist and his lips close to her ear, Jake showed her everything in the remaining drawers and his closet. "You can wear anything you want, whenever you want. And you don't have to ask me again. You just go ahead and take it."

"Okay," she replied, looking up at him. She noticed all of his expertly pressed uniforms hanging up, and she was a little curious how the blue and white ones would look on him. She was about to mention them when he pulled her a little closer. And then he kissed her, and it was soft and sweet as she wrapped her arms around his waist. She felt good when she was with him, like she could take a break from worrying about Brian and tenure and failing students. Like Jake was someone who wasn't going to make her life harder.

"Wanna check out that Super Hornet spec sheet with me?" he asked, and she knew she must look ridiculously excited.

"Yes," she sighed. And if she thought that was all he had in store, she was very wrong. A minute later she was perched on one of the stools at the kitchen island, and she grinned as Jake slid a single sheet of paper across the granite. It was upside down, and he kept his palm on top of it as she tried to turn it over.

"Not so fast," he drawled. "This is top secret, highly sensitive information I'm about to show you. Do you promise you won't turn me in and get me court-martialed?"

"Jake," she whispered as she looked at his pretty green eyes. "I'm a little turned on just thinking about the math. Please. I won't tell a soul."

"Fuck," he groaned, flipping the paper over for her. "I can't say no to you when you tell me that."

She gasped as she looked at the schematics of his aircraft along with some information she never dreamed she would get access to. There were a few redacted bits of information, but it was still exciting. "Oh my god," she moaned as Jake held out a sharpened pencil and a graphing calculator for her. "Where did you get this?" she asked, completely stunned as she opened the calculator that cost several hundred dollars. It was exactly like the one she kept in her desk drawer in her office.

"Bradshaw's wife told me which one to buy," he muttered, but she cut off his words as she pulled him closer with her hands around his waist. She felt the desire to take him back to his bed now that both of them seemed to have got past the jitters from earlier. But as she kissed him, she realized he made it a point to bring home exactly what she wanted, and he even bought her favorite kind of calculator. More sex could wait until after this foreplay.

"You're so sweet," she said against his lips as she spread her legs wide, letting him stand between them.

He was drawing little circles on her bare thighs with both hands as he smiled against her lips before pulling back a few inches. He kept one hand on her leg and tapped the page with his index finger. "You're gonna need the new velocity values right here and right here," he said, moving his finger down the page to the redacted parts. "Lucky for you, I'm a little quicker than the Admirals. I memorized them from the projected lecture notes."

She liked it when he sounded a little cocky and smirked as if he was too good to be true. Maybe he was. As he continued to rub along the top of her thigh, Jessica asked, "Will you tell me? So I can work out the math?"

He licked his lips. Why was she so turned on? He kissed her, and she wanted him to take her on the kitchen island. "Yeah, I'll tell you, Smart Girl," he promised, his voice sounding a little harsh as he whispered two different numbers to her.

Jessica scribbled them down and whimpered softly. When she opened the calculator and started to solve some elaborate formulas, Jake stood behind her and watched with his chin resting on her shoulder. She filled the margins with her calculations, and the occasional brush of his lips on her neck left her needing to recheck her math.

After working at it a bit, she was close to solving for the maximum speed of the aircraft versus the speed of sound. And Jake's kisses were growing more persistent along the collar of the Longhorns shirt. "Oh," she sighed softly.

"You almost done, Reedy?" he whispered. "As much fun as this is to watch, I'd like to get my hands on you again."

Her eyes fluttered closed before she could enter her final calculation and solve everything. "Are you turned on right now?" she asked him.

Jake grunted, his hands soft on her shoulders as his lips found the shell of her ear. "Been a little turned on since I first saw you in a pair of high heels being smarter than everyone else in a lecture hall full of physicists."

All she could feel was the clench of desire when his lips barely moved along her skin. Her limbs felt too heavy, and everything was moving in slow motion as her brain finally figured out what to type into the calculator. "Mach 2.0587," she moaned. "That's how fast you'll safely be able to go with the new interface updates."

Jake spun the stool around, and she had to brace her hands on his abs while he devoured her mouth. She wasn't nervous now, and he wasn't hesitating this time as she slid off the stool, her body rubbing along his erection. In an instant she had her hands inside his briefs, still amazed by how thick he was, and her lips brushed his chest hair.

The sound she made left her blushing as she tugged down his underwear. Jake stepped out of them and got his hands underneath the Longhorns shirt and on her butt. She had to grip his shoulders as he easily lifted her up. "On the couch?" he asked.

"Yeah," she agreed with a needy moan as her clit pressed snug against his cock.

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With Jessica's knees planted on the couch cushion and her hands on the arm, Jake could fully appreciate the freedom afforded by skipping a condom. He was kissing along her ass and lower back, his Longhorns shirt pushed up nearly to her shoulders. "Please," she whined, leaning further over the couch arm and wiggling her rear end enticingly.

He bit her gently, and she squeaked for him before turning her head and gasping. He'd been thinking about a horny couch quickie for a week, and now he was about to get it. Well, maybe not too quick.

"Jake," she whined when he ran his fingers through her slick and then coated up his cock.

His hand was wet and sticky as he placed it on her lower back and slid himself slowly inside her tight, little pussy. "Wouldn't have taken you for the impatient type," he muttered as her back arched beautifully for him. He went slow, watching the way she gripped his length and listening for her gasp of breath when he bottomed out. "Shit." He pushed a little harder and then stayed put, brushing his fingers along her ass. She took him so well, her hands scrambling on the couch upholstery for purchase as he asked, "Ready?"

"Yes," she whispered, her voice already sounding broken as he leaned over top of her and braced his hands next to hers.

With a soft kiss to her cheek, he murmured, "Okay, Baby," and then he withdrew a few inches and thrust hard. The snap of his hips had her arching her back again, the back of her head pressed to his shoulder. He rocked into her a few more times just like that, pleased when she got louder.

He fucked her hard, gasping and moaning her name, and she didn't back down at all. Her body met his each time. At first, he thought this was something he needed to get out of his system, but her body was made for this. Made to be bent over the couch or her desk or his truck tailgate. Taking him hard. He could imagine it everywhere, always feeling this good as he fucked her with his lips on her ear.

"A little harder?" he managed to ask when his balls started to grow tight. He knew he could make it sweet later, but she was responding beautifully to this.

"Yeah," she grunted, and he caught her swaying breasts in both hands. The feel of them in his palms, bouncing in time with his quick thrusts left him with a smile on his face as Jessica came for him. Her face was buried in her folded arms, and her pussy was clenching.

"Holy shit." he pushed himself deep and let her milk him until he was shaking and grabbing her tits a little harder. She whimpered, still fluttering around him as she lifted her head and looked at him. Her glasses were crooked, she looked shocked, and he was about to be rewarded with another pretty creampie to look at. He could get used to Saturdays like this.

He withdrew, his cock still hard as she panted to catch her breath, and he watched his cum ooze and drip, catching it with his hand. "Jessica," he whispered, bringing his palm up to meet her pussy and rubbing gently. She bucked and made a sound. "So pretty."

He could tell that her body was still a little sensitive as she curled up on his lap with her cheek on his shoulder. He rubbed his sticky hand along her thigh as she played with his chest hair. When she kissed his neck, he whispered, "I hope I wasn't too rough."

"No. Not at all. It felt good."

He let his head tip back. "Been thinking about that for a week, and my imagination must fucking suck. Or you're just that good for me."

She laughed softly. "I'm probably just very good."

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Jessica had never had bruschetta chicken before. When Jake pulled it out of the oven, she tried to eat it right away, but he told her to wait while he grated cheese on the top. He'd been catering to her all afternoon and evening though, so they ended up eating it right out of the casserole dish while standing at the counter after she said she was hungry.

"It's so good," she moaned between mouthfuls.

"I'll send the rest home with you tomorrow. You can take it for lunch on Monday."

The weekend wasn't even over yet, but it was getting a little late as she ate another bite of dinner. She wanted to know if their routine would keep going. "Are you planning on stopping by my office hours this week?"

Jake tipped her chin up and kissed her lips softly. "How else am I gonna get new journals to read and visit my girlfriend at the same time? Or are you going to be too busy skateboarding?"

She kissed him back. "Luca wants me to go surfing next."

"Luca wants to see you in a bathing suit," he replied with a grin.

"No! I'm his favorite teacher!" she protested with a laugh.

"Yeah. I'm sure you're his favorite teacher for a whole variety of reasons, Baby." He ran his hands up and down her body as she ate another bite of dinner. "You're a good teacher and you're fucking hot as sin."

Jake was trying to playfully lure her away from the casserole dish, but she kept slipping out of his grasp to take another bite. "As soon as I learned you could cook, you were golden," she murmured as she took one more bite before he carried her to the bedroom over his shoulder. "I haven't had a boyfriend in so long, because what's the point if you're not getting fed after getting fucked?"

"That's a valid question," he said, taking her into his bathroom. He turned on the shower and walked around collecting fresh towels with her draped casually over his bicep. "But I will say, there's an excellent chance that I'll cook you anything you want for breakfast tomorrow. Even if we don't fuck again. You could probably even get a midnight snack out of me."

He set her down gently and patted her butt before she handed him her glasses and stepped under the warm shower spray with a little shiver. "You want me to get something out for you to wear to bed?" he asked, but she shook her head and reached for him.

Jessica pulled him in the shower with her as she said, "No, I want you in here." With soapy hands, they explored each other's bodies, and it didn't feel overly sexual. Sure, Jake's hands were everywhere, and his cock was halfway at attention, but his hands weren't rough like when they had sex on the couch. And he wasn't pushing for more. She just made out with him and then let him wash her hair.

"Feel good?" he asked, massaging his strong fingers along her scalp as she melted back against him.

"Yeah," she whispered in the softest voice, afraid to break the spell they were under where he kept kissing her and calling her his Smart Girl. Once they were finally out of the shower, only because it was starting to turn cold, Jake wrapped her up in a towel.

"Sure you don't want something to sleep in, Jess? It's a little chilly in here."

"I brought pajamas," she murmured, kneeling to dig in her overnight bag. "Pick a color: blue or pink." When he didn't answer right away, she turned to look up at him as she wrapped her towel around herself a little tighter. "Do you have a preference?"

He looked like he was in a daze as he watched her fingers glide along the two lace and silk options in her bag. "Blue," he whispered, and she stood with the royal blue nightie in her hands. Jake watched her every movement as she towel dried her hair and then slipped into her pajamas for the night. "Can I see the pink, too?" he asked, his voice strained.

"Maybe next time," she replied with a smile.

"Did you pack those just for me?"

She threw her towel at him and climbed into bed. "I always wear things like this to sleep."

"You do?" His cheeks looked pink as he tossed his towel and hers into the hamper. Then he was in bed with her, pinning her wrists above her head in one big hand. "And they all look like this? With little bows and lace all over?"

"Yeah," she whispered, turning her head to the side when he nudged her cheek with his nose.

"I thought you just bought that little green set to hide under your work clothes and tease me with." He kissed her ear as she sighed.

"Well, I kind of did, but I collect lingerie," she replied, and instantly Jake was flat on his back next to her with his hands over his eyes. "What?" she asked, sitting up as she laughed. "Is that weird?"

"Weird?" he croaked. "No, weird isn't the right word for it." He rubbed his eyes and groaned before peeking through his fingers. "I won't survive this."

She looked down at the soft blue lace and then looked back at him. "Why not?"

Jake tugged on her arm until she was laying on top of him. He rubbed his hands up and down her back and over her butt. "Because it's like wrapping paper, Baby. It's like the gift I've always wanted to receive is all wrapped up in the prettiest paper and then given to me to unwrap and enjoy."

She looked down at him with one raised eyebrow and softly parted lips. Nobody had ever described her like that before, not in such a beautiful way. Her closet was filled with lace, satin, silk, leather and chiffon, but she hadn't really shown it off before. Not like she wanted to right now. She wanted to let Jake dress her up how he liked, and then she wanted to take absolute control over him. He ran his fingers through her damp hair and looked up at her, his pupils blown wide, and she sat back on his cock to find him hard.

"Again?" she asked softly.

When he nodded, she positioned herself to take him while he started to unwrap his present.

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Monday morning came too early, and when it did, Jessica woke up alone in her bed and sighed. Jake dropped her off late last night. Like very late. And after spending the night in his warm bed with him on Saturday, last night had been a restless sleep. She wanted to invite him in to play dress up in her closet, but she knew they both needed some sleep for the work week. So he only came inside long enough for a tour of her apartment and a hot little makeout before he filled her refrigerator with individual containers of leftovers. And then she sent him home with the containers from last week's food that she'd washed and set aside for him.

But she knew she wouldn't see him again until Tuesday, so she phoned in her hair and make up on Monday morning. What was the point? She was already dreading her agenda for the day. There was a faculty meeting run by Brian and then another damn meeting about alumni weekend which was just a few days away. And then she had to finalize everything for the fundraiser by making five phone calls.

Once she dropped her things in her office, she made her way to the faculty meeting with one minute to spare. She could tell that Brian desperately wanted to call her out for being late, but when Dr. Leeland came hustling in right behind her, out of breath and sweating, Brian turned away from her.

"Morning, Benson," she said to Dr. Leeland in a pleasant voice as she held the door open for him.

"Jessica," he grunted with a half smile as he headed for a seat in the front. Jessica slipped into the back row and sipped her coffee while forcing herself to focus on Brian's words instead of daydreaming about Jake. She couldn't afford to draw too much attention to herself since she had the second meeting about alumni weekend with Brian right after this one.

She just sat very still, and whenever his eyes landed on hers, she braced herself for him to make a comment about skateboarding with Luca and professionalism in the workplace. But it never came. She let out a sigh of relief as the meeting ended and everyone else filed out. She remained in her seat, waiting for everyone else from the science department who was involved in alumni weekend to filter in.

Brian was pretending to ignore her as she flipped through the red notebook of lecture notes she brought with her. He was standing at the podium silently when the door opened up and one of his teaching assistants rushed in. Jessica recognized her from the classrooms and the occasional meeting, and right now she was calling out Brian's name and running right to his arms.

"Not right now," Jessica heard Brian say, his piercing eyes landing on her as he pushed his TA away from him.

"But my lab is about to start, and I'm not going to see you later," the younger woman whined playfully as Brian tried to back away from her. Jessica felt sick as she loudly cleared her throat. Then she had two sets of eyes focused on her and her red notebook. The other woman looked a little frantic, but Jessica kept her expression completely neutral. There were already enough rumors circulating about her, and she certainly didn't want to propagate any more by stirring Brian up.

"We can discuss your lab schedule later, Miss Turner." Brian's voice was filled with so much finality, the other woman left the room without another word.

Jessica literally had to bite her tongue as she looked at him, and just when Brian opened his mouth to say something, Dr. Jenkins from the biology department walked in wearing one of his hideous sweater vests, and she couldn't have been happier to see him.

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On Tuesday, Jessica took a deep breath as she held her lunch container filled with bruschetta chicken in one hand and her fork and water bottle in the other. She thought it was okay to just stop by, but maybe she should have texted first? She knocked on the door before she could change her mind. Then she heard clamoring inside followed by more than once voice, and it sounded like someone was dragging furniture across the floor.

When the door opened a few inches, and she saw her friend's startled eyes, Jessica said, "If you're busy, I can come back."

"Oh. It's you," Advanced Calculus sighed deeply with a look of instant relief on her face. Then she opened the door wider and glanced behind her, and Jessica's gaze shifted to the interior of her office where Bradley was quickly tucking his uniform shirt into his uniform pants. His cheeks were flushed, but he had a grin on his face.

"Hey, Jessica," he murmured, grabbing his keys and phone from the desk. "I was just leaving," he added before bending to give his wife a filthy kiss. "I'll pick you up after your last lecture, Sugar."

"Bye," she replied softly, gently pushing her husband through the door as he nodded at Jessica.

"I'm so sorry, I had no idea I was interrupting-"

"You weren't," the other woman said as she tried to hide her smile. "He just had his lunch hour free today and.... wanted to visit."

Jessica still stood frozen, unsure what she should do. She gestured behind her and said, "I could just go back to my office."

Her friend scoffed. "We're done now, so you might as well just come in."

"Okay," Jessica replied with a smile of her own. "I just didn't know I was going to be interrupting a quickie. I'll text you next time."

Instead of responding, Advanced Calculus just sat down with a coy smile and asked, "What did Jake make you for lunch today?"

Jessica held up the container that she just heated up in her office. "It's the bruschetta chicken from Saturday night."

She laughed and held up a container of her own. "Bradley made the same thing. Should we compare recipes?"

"Oh! Absolutely," Jessica agreed right away. A few bites in, and both of them were looking from container to container, unsure which one was the winner. "I like both of them."

"Me too," she replied, taking another bite of Jake's. "Does he use panko breadcrumbs?"

"I think so. Does Bradley use oregano and rosemary?"

"Probably. I can't really tell them apart."

They both erupted into laughter.

"So are you ready for your fundraiser on Saturday night?"

Jessica finished the last bite of lunch and sighed. "Almost. I'm going to the fraternity house to meet with the boys tomorrow night. They rented the tuxedos. The culinary students are making the food. Bradley's bringing the kegs. Dev emailed me and said he'd donate things for the silent auction. I'm just nervous."

"You shouldn't be," she replied. "It'll be perfect. You spent a lot of time on this."

Jessica shook her head. "I just feel like my future at this school depends on it. Like if I fuck this up, I'll never get tenure."

And then Jessica felt a bit like she was under a microscope. "And Brian Conley is in charge of your tenure?"

"Yes," she replied softly as she looked up at the other woman's gaze.

But she was only met with kindness in the form of sympathetic eyes and a soft smile. "So what's the deal with you and him anyway?"

Jessica knew there had been rumors circulating for months, but maybe now she finally had people in her life who would believe her when she told them what happened. "How much time do you have?"

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She's confiding in Sugar! And both girls had the quickie of their dreams with their dream guys. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 11

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thechaoticdruid · 4 months

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[This Bites] (1)

Pairing: Astarion x F! Chubby! MC

Plot: Through some mysterious and very miraculous events, a young woman finds herself literally stuck with a character from her current video game obsession. You can guess it already. It's an isekai type fanfic. Except in this case Astarion is stuck in our modern world. I was gonna call the MC Tav, but since the actual game character Tav is mentioned I just named her Winnie.

Content Warnings: Death….sorta, An asshole of a stepdad, MC uses She/Her pronouns, eventual smut and sexual content in future parts. Characters may be Ooc, grammar/spelling mistakes are possible. MC has very low self esteem. Depressed MC.

Chapter One: You are here!

Chapter Two: Here!

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

“Argh I knew something would go wrong with this game!” The female huffed, staring down at her computer. Her eyes scanned over the error message titled ‘Character not found.’ She gritted her teeth in frustration. “God forbid I try mods….”

The young woman groaned, shutting her laptop and falling back onto the bed. Apparently after finally installing a cheat mod onto Baldur's Gate 3 the game decided to retaliate and locked her out of her save files. She couldn't even create a new character either! The same ‘Character not found’ message seemed to pop up no matter what she did. The girl’s name was Winnie, a college student in her early twenties who was still living at home. Not too long ago Winnie had gotten the game upon release. She'd played it several times since then and even yet was still able to find some hidden secrets she didn't notice the first time. Honestly this game had really helped with her current state. Life had just been dull and miserable. All her friends had moved on and had their own lives now and she really wasn't the best at making new ones.

She had a dull boring job, did online writing classes and also had to put up with the asshole her mother married. This game had been a godsend for her these past few months. It gave her an escape. A way to be someone else, at least for a little while anyway.

Not to mention live out her somewhat cringey teenage girl fantasy of dating a walking red flag of a vampire. In this game she felt important. Like she was some badass heroine who was ready to take on any foe. Not the shy, scared, awkward woman who she saw in the mirror.

Her cat Maddie broke Winnie from her thoughts as she hopped up onto the bed and crawled onto the young woman's chest. Winnie ran her hand over the cat's thick fluffy black fur. Maddie gave a small mew before purring noisily and gently kneading her claws into Winnie’s chest.

Winnie sighed, scratching the sides of Maddie's face as she was soothed by the feline’s pur.

“WINNIE! GET YOUR ASS IN HERE!!” A gruff male voice shouted from the other room, causing Maddie to jump and scramble off of Winnie and hide under the bed.

The brunette haired girl sighed and got up, walking out of the room and cautiously stepping down the hall.

“Yes, Brian?” Winnie spoke up as she entered the kitchen. She looked over to see her stepfather stumbling about. Brian was a rather large man with short dark hair and beard. He was well….very unpleasant.

“Where are the goddamn car keys?” He growled out.

“Dunno, I don't drive.” Winnie said calmly as she leaned up against the wall, “mom probably put them somewhere. Check the coffee table by the recliner.”

Brian stomped off, a tiny tan fluff of a dog following after him. He grabbed the keys before walking back into the kitchen.

“I'm going to the store. Keep that stupid cat of yours in your room! It keeps shitting all over the carpet!”

“I've told you over and over. Maddie only goes in the litter box. It's your dog that keeps making a mess in the house because you don't take him outside when he needs to go.” Winnie rolled her eyes.

“Don't fucking talk back to me! You're lucky your mother lets you stay here, if it was up to me you'd have been kicked out of here a long time ago.” Brain snapped, making Winnie flinch a little at his tone. “Now make sure the trash is taken out before I get back.” He said before stomping out the front door and slamming it behind him. Winnie flinched once again at the loud sound before letting out a sigh and pulling the trash out of the can despite the fact that she distinctly remembered her mother telling Brian to take it out this morning.

Winnie took out the trash before coming back inside heading back to her room. Her eyes scanned over her laptop as Maddie crawled out from under the bed. She walked back over and opened the device, logging herself on before attempting to open her game back up.

[Character not found.]

Winnie groaned before filling out a bug report and then putting her computer up. She needed to get ready and go to work anyway.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~

A few days had passed and nothing seemed to work. Winnie had disabled and deleted all the mods, sent in about a dozen but reports and still nothing. The only thing left she could try now was uninstalling the game and then reinstalling it.

Winnie sat on the bed waiting patiently for the game to download though she knew it would at least take an hour. She pulled out her cellphone, noticing a text from her mother. The message was informing Winnie that Brian and her mom wouldn't be home until late tonight. At least this meant she'd have plenty of peace and quiet in the meantime. The young woman spread out on her bed, stretching her limbs before slowly closing her eyes, resting lazily.

Time passed as she slowly dozed off…Eventually she was awoken by the sound of beeping? It was some strange noise that she couldn't quite put her finger on. She quickly looked over to her laptop and her eyes widened as she noticed it seemed to be going crazy. Blinking and beeping.

“What the fuck!?” She exclaimed, grasping her computer and frantically clicking the mousepad.

Then the screen went black before seemingly returning to the home screen. However, everything on the computer was gone save for one shortcut. Baldur's Gate 3.

The game’s shortcut sat in the very center of the computer, practically screaming at Winnie to click on it. She clicked it and the game opened up.

Everything seemed to go as normal up until the title screen. Winnie’s eyes widened in shock as she noticed all of the menu options were gone aside from (New Game). She raised an eyebrow before clicking on the only option available and waiting as the opening cinematic played. Everything continued as it usually did. Winnie created her Tav, a human druid with an urchin background, then proceeded to hop into the game.

Winnie did a bit of a speed run, moving through the Nautiloid as quickly as she could. She recruited Us, Lae'zel and freed Shadowheart before reaching the helm and crashing the ship.

Upon reaching the ravaged beach was when things began to get strange.

The game buffered and blinked a bit, skipping the scene where Tav would check themselves out followed by some voiced narration. Tav was kinda just there on the beach.

“Oh God. The game is glitching….” Winnie whined. She sighed in annoyance before clicking on the ground where she wanted Tav to walk. Winnie REALLY did not feel like uninstalling the game and waiting another hour to try again so she decided she'd play for as long as the game would allow. Winnie had Tav wander over towards where Shadowheart would normally be laying after crash, only to find an empty space where the half elf should be. Winnie groaned assuming it was another glitch before continuing on along the beach. While most things were there like the dead bodies and the intellect devourer enemies, Winnie did not see any sign of Shadowheart at all. Not even near the ruins where she'd be if she wasn't rescued by the player. Winnie decided to quickly go and look for the other characters, sneaking her way past the little brain creatures and moving down the path where Astarion, the elven rogue companion, would be waiting to ambush the player. He was Winnie’s favorite. She had a soft spot for sassy morally grey characters with tragic backstories. And he was also secretly a vampire to boot which just added to the appeal. Winnie had her Tav approach the area before she let out a sigh of relief seeing as the vampiric elf was in his starting area shouting for help like normal. At least the game wasn't completely broken.

“Hurry I've got one of those brain things cornered.” Astarion’s dialogue began as soon as Tav got close enough to interact with him. “There in the grass, you can kill it can't you? Like you killed the others?”

“Uh….I kinda actually didn't kill any of them…Heheh.” Winnie chuckled before dragging her mouse over the dialogue choices.

1. [Easily, stand back.]

2. Kill it yourself. You seem capable.

3. Leave

Winnie clicked on choice 1 before her Tav walked over to check the tall grass for the intellect devourer that was actually non-existent.

Instead a wild boar leapt from the grass and made Tav jump in surprise, giving Astarion the perfect opportunity to strike. He pinned the druid to the ground, pressing a dagger to her neck.

“Shhh…Shhh….Not a sound…Not if you want to keep that darling neck of yours.” The vampire practically purred out. Winnie blushed, a shiver going down her spine. There was a reason she always found herself choosing the elven vampire as her character’s love interest. Initially when she first got the game she felt he came off as a pompous prick (which he is) but damn he was so fucking seductive. It drove Winnie absolutely mad. Not to mention it helped given he had sweet delicious character development later on in his story and actually could be kind of a sweetheart… To the player at least.

The romance in this game had to be Winnie’s favorite aspect of it. She was very romantically inexperienced to say the least and this just added to what made the game her perfect escape from reality. It made her feel like someone actually liked her. Winnie prepared to select the next dialogue choice when suddenly she noticed they had changed.

1. [……….]

2. ………..

3. ……….

4. ……….

She looked up and saw a smirk form on Astarion's lips, his eyes appeared as if he was staring back at Winnie from through the screen. Before she could speak Astarion slit Tav's throat and let them drop onto the ground.

“What. The. Fuck.” The brunette haired female went pale as she stared at her computer screen. Astarion sighed in what sounded like relief?

“Finally, we've done that old song and dance so many times! The novelty has completely worn off.” He stretched out his arms, before wiping his dagger on the ground. “It feels so invigorating to try something new, wouldn't you agree?”

“Uhh…..What's going on?” Winnie asked aloud. She was shaking a bit in both confusion and a little fear. Her character was kinda just laying on the ground dead…and Astarion was talking….to her!?

“Oh dear, it seems I've gone and frightened you. Ahaha!” Astarion chuckled before appearing to move closer to the screen, even going so far to place his hand on it…

“Hello darling…”

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vanwritesfan-fiction · 8 months

Text

Self-Made Man

I wanna go back to Kentucky and shut down the state fair Visit my old teachers and tell 'em to take care I might take a whip instead of paying the plane fare I still remember the way there

Requested by the lovely @harlowcomehome

Artwork by me; please do not use for any reason

Jack was forever grateful for the city that made him. Louisville raised him when he was just a kid handing out his mixtapes in the hallways of Highland Middle School, and had his back as he became one of the biggest rappers in the world over the past couple of years. While a lot of rappers rep their hometown from afar, Jack returned to his birthplace with the intention of putting the city on his back and giving back to the community that accepted him with open arms.

Your relationship with Jack was getting serious, the two of you were practically living together five months into your relationship, and he knew he was ready to take the next step and invite you to visit his hometown. You were apprehensive to say the least, but agreed to his proposition. All you cared about was making a good impression with his family; you knew how much his family meant to him, and he rarely made big life decisions without their input. You felt like your relationship was dependent on this trip going well.

****

Ironically, Jack was nervous about this visit for the opposite reason. He really wanted his friends and family to make a good impression on you. He really wanted you to love Louisville as much as he did, because he saw the two of you settling down there together.

He figured if he could show you some of Louisville's landmarks and institutions around town, where some of his best memories were made, you would start to see the potential in the place he called home. He planned the whole day out, including a trip down memory lane to his favorite spots in the city.

It was only the first day and things were starting to go sideways; his mom had hogged most of the morning going through her stacks of scrapbooks over breakfast, all full of memories from Jack and Clay's childhood.

"Oh, this is one of my favorites!" Maggie handed you the photograph across the dining room table, of Jack standing in his canary yellow little league uniform, complete with high socks and baseball cap. "He was so nervous to play, he ended up running the wrong direction around the bases." Jack's face turned red as you let out a quiet chuckle, patting his leg in sympathy.

"Are you done embarrassing me, ma? We've already been through the baby books. Y/N has already been forced to look at my baby booty, and its not even 10am." He ran a nervous hand through his curls, shifting in his seat.

"What? Nothing she hasn't seen already, I'm sure." Maggie shrugged, slipping the photo back into the plastic protective sheet.

"Oh my god", Jack turned to you, his face pitiful, "If you care about me at all, we will leave right now."

****

You barely got a chance to slip on your shoes and say bye to Maggie and Brian as Jack was ushering you out to his car. He took a deep breath, taking his time to adjust his rear view mirror before looking at you. "I'm sorry about my mom. I told her to ease you into it, and for some reason she thought that meant showing you all of my elementary school photos."

You chuckled, leaning in to give him a soft kiss on the lips, your hand cradling his face. "I loved it." you whispered, your gaze remaining on Jack's lips as you parted. "Yeah?", he teased, his hand slowly crawling up your thigh, brushing against your lower stomach. You nodded, running your fingers along his beard.

"How did I get so lucky to find you?" You could barely get the words out, Jack placing kisses along your jawline. "Well, I like to think it was just a stroke of luck. For you of course, not me." You gave him a smile, patting his cheek. "Now, tell me what you have planned for us today, babe."

"Well, baby girl, today, you're going to get the best tour from a true Louisville native, someone who knows this city like the back of his hand."

"Oh, is Urban joining us?" You stifled a laugh as Jack's face dropped. "Very funny. If you can't respect my knowledge of the River City, I guess you don't need this gift I got you." He reached behind his seat, pulling a plastic bag into his lap. "Thank you baby. You didn't have to get me anything." You pulled out a brown box, the inside containing an instant polaroid camera.

"I asked Urban to pick one out for you, since I know nothing about photography, but I thought it would be a good way to capture some of today." Jack explained, looking at your face for a response. The camera was about the size of your hand, and a bright baby blue, your favorite color. "It's perfect, Jack. I love it." You raised the camera to your face, snapping a quick pic of Jack's face. He squinted as his eyes adjusted to the flash, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I can't give you a tour if you blind me, baby."

****

The first stop of Jack's unofficial tour of Louisville: Bloom Elementary School in the Highlands. School was out for the summer for a couple more weeks so you the grounds were empty. The two of you walked hand and hand to the playground, Jack leading you to the swings. He pushed you as you let your legs sway back and forth, feeling the breeze against your face.

"I had my first kiss back in 2nd grade with Becca Thompson on these swings." He slowed your swing, taking a seat next to you. "Oh really? Where is Becca now?" You teased, playfully pushing him away from you.

"Last I heard she was living out in Colorado or something with three kids." Jack messed with the hem of your jacket, running the zipper through his fingers. He stood up, pulling you to your feet. "I also had the best kiss of my life right here." He pointed to the ground, your gaze following his hand.

You rolled your eyes, placing your hands on your hips. "I thought this was a tour of Louisville, not Jack's conquests. Now what was this girls' name?" Jack crashed his lips with yours before you could get another word out, leaving you breathless. Your eyes were still closed when he stepped back, a smile creeping on his face as he watched you come back to reality. "Yeah, I was right. Definitely the best kiss of my life." You were truly dumbfounded for a second, but you couldn't help but chuckle.

"You're really something, Mr. Harlow. Say cheese." You held the camera up, pressing the button to memorialize what was also the best kiss of your life.

****

Your next stop: Book and Music Exchange on Bardstown Road.

"What up, Chris?" Jack greeted the owner as he walked behind you through the threshold of the retro book and music store. You browsed the aisles for a couple of your favorite books and records, noticing a couple copies of Jack's CDs among the other greats.

"I have something I wanna show you." Jack took your hand, leading you to the back of the store. You watched him as he searched with his fingers over the wood of the shelves, dropping to his knees when he realized it was no longer at eye level. He stopped at the last shelf in the very end of the book collection.

Carved into the woods were the words:

I'm gonna be the biggest rapper out of Louisville, (signed) JH

"We used to come here after school, and everyone would write their wish on the back of here." You grazed your fingers over the messy writing, feeling butterflies in your stomach.

"Oh Jack, what a dream come true."

He truly was a self-made man. Everything he had wished and worked for had come to fruition and you couldn't have been more proud of everything accomplished.

"I'm pretty sure it's magic." Jack whispered, standing back up. You snapped a picture of the words, smiling as the photo developed in your hands.

"Y/N, I have something I want to show you." You heard Chris call for you from the front of the store.

"Go, I'll be right there." Once you were out of sight, Jack pulled a pen out of pocket. He gently carved into the wood like he had done as a kid, relying on the wood to preserve his wish. Once he was done, he blew away the wood shavings, quietly reading the words back to himself.

Jack Harlow + Y/N Y/L/N Forever

"Don't forget, you're supposed to be magic, okay?"

****

The hours passed by quickly as Jack took you to a few more of his favorite spots:

Morris' Deli where you tried Ale 8 for the first time, and resolved that you just really weren't made for such a strong drink. "It'll put hair on your chest", Jack joked as he watched you choke on the liquid. Jack took a picture of you taking a bite of your first sandwich from the popular spot.

The 21C Museum Hotel, where you walked around the art exhibits in the lobby. "They change it every night, so its like the art moves around when you're not looking." Jack took you to the penthouse, where he got the inspiration to write 21C off of his sophomore album. You took a photo of Jack in front of the gold statue erected by the hotel's entrance.

"Jack, why aren't you stopping?", you asked as Jack barely slowed down in front of his old high school, keeping the car moving.

"I may or may not have graffitied the side of the school the night of my graduation. I haven't stepped foot in there since." He shielded his face from view as he picked up speed. You took a picture of the school's entrance through the window, the photo coming out blurry.

****

Your final stop on the Louisville tour: Big Rock Park, 15 minutes east of the heart of the city.

The park was packed with families having picnics and kids playing on the expansive grassy areas. Jack bought the both of you ice creams from a local vendor and you sat down in a shady area underneath a large oak tree.

"You've got something right here." Jack motioned on his face, pointing out a little bit of chocolate that was stuck to the side of your mouth. "Where?" You grabbed a napkin, attempting to wipe it away but having no luck.

"Here, I've got it." Jack's words trailed off as he wiped the chocolate off of your face with his thumb, cleaning his finger off on his jeans. "Thank you." You smiled, your fingers crawling towards Jack's hand, your fingers slowly intertwining. With your treats finished, Jack laid on his back, one arm propped behind his head. He pulled you down to lay against his chest.

"So, how did I do? Are you moving to Louisville now?" He knew he was pushing his luck by asking you flat out, but he thought he made a pretty convincing tour guide. You giggled, resting your chin on his chest as you pushed his curls out of his face.

"I've got to say, its growing on me." Jack chuckled, rubbing your back. "Growing on you, huh? I'll take it." You could his heart start to race as you laid your ear against his chest. You snapped a picture of Jack snoozing in the shade once he had closed his eyes.

****

Time had gotten away from you and the sun had set as you drove back to his parent's house. Jack pulled into the driveway, turning off the engine.

"I had a really good time, Jack. Thank you so much for showing me the place you love so much." You gave him a quick peck, but he wouldn't let you go, pulling you in by the back of your neck. "Come back here." You could feel his smile against your lips as he kissed you, Jack pulling your bottom lip into his mouth as he teased your skin with his fingers.

"We promised your mom we'd have dinner." Jack groaned, leaning his forehead against your chest. "I was gonna show you the best part of the tour. The part where you get to have car sex with Louisville's biggest rapper. It's exclusive, not everyone gets to do it." You chuckled, pushing him off of you.

"C'mon, the Prince of Louisville, I'm hungry."

****

After dinner, you spread your collected photos across the dining room, sharing details about your day with Maggie, Bryan and Clay. "I really had the best day, thank you so much for being so kind to me. I think I could really see myself living in Louisville one day." You slapped the table cheerfully, smiling at Jack. He couldn't even hide that he was beaming with happiness if he wanted to, squeezing your thigh.

"Yep, and once you move here you can find a guy so much better for you than Jack." Clay scooped the last of his chocolate cake that Maggie had made for dessert, into his mouth.

"You're lucky she's hear or I'd punch you." Jack threatened through gritted teeth, Clay sticking out his tongue at his brother to taunt him.

"Ok, enough. Not in front of company." Maggie scolded her sons, standing up from the table. "How about I get a picture of you to commemorate the day." You handed Maggie your camera, stepping into the living room. Jack wrapped his arms around you from the back, placing his hands on your stomach.

"Alright, say cheese." Maggie counted down from five, and snapped the picture. The camera whirred for a few seconds, spitting out an undeveloped polaroid. "Perfect."

"Can I help you with the dishes, Mrs. Harlow?", you asked, following Jack back into the dining room.

"Call me Maggie, hon, and yes, I would love your help. I'll be right back."

Maggie walked through the living room to the hall closet. She pulled out her box of scrapbooks, removing the top of the box. Rested on top was a brand new scrapbook, the words Jack and Y/N Harlow embossed on the front. She opened the book, flipping through the pages. She slipped the polaroid of the two of you in the plastic protector on a random page.

For now the book was empty, awaiting the many memories to come for you two. She closed the book, patting the top, tucking it in with the other scrapbooks and putting the box back in the closet.

Tag-List:

@jacks-daycare

@livsters

@katiaw2

@xangelonmyshoulderx

@thatonegirlthatlikesthings

@j0hkiya

@bell3e

@isisosidixj

@caroline334

@lightsoutstyles

@hufflewhore128

@jackscurlyhair

@jackharloww

@brixo

@beautiifulpeople312

@bernelflo

@taniapri

@ageofthebarbarians

@honeyharlows

@aga21

@iheartharlow

@neon-lights-and-glitter

@w1ldthoughts

@jackslilsecrett

@harlowcomehome

@fantasywritersstuff

@exoticr0ses

@iknowdatsrightbih

@itsyagirljaz

@hoodharlow

#jack harlow #jackman thomas harlow #jackharlow #jack harlow x reader #jackman harlow #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow fluff #jack harlow fanfic

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pasta-in-the-pudding · 2 months

Note

Can you do a Insecure!Jeff the killer x reader??

-⭐

ℕ𝕠 𝕟𝕖𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕠 𝕡𝕦𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕖𝕩𝕔𝕝𝕒𝕞𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 𝕡𝕠𝕚𝕟𝕥, 𝕁𝕖𝕗𝕗 𝕓𝕖𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟𝕤𝕖𝕔𝕦𝕣𝕖 𝕚𝕤 𝕡𝕣𝕖𝕥𝕥𝕪 𝕞𝕦𝕔𝕙 𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟 <///𝟛

ℂ𝕣𝕖𝕕𝕚𝕥𝕤 𝕥𝕠 𝕕𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕕𝕖𝕣 𝕘𝕠 𝕥𝕠 @𝕒𝕟𝕚𝕞𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕕𝕘𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕘𝕣𝕒𝕡𝕙𝕚𝕔𝕤-𝕟-𝕞𝕠𝕣𝕖!! 𝔾𝕠 𝕗𝕠𝕝𝕝𝕠𝕨 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕞 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕤𝕦𝕡𝕡𝕠𝕣𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕚𝕣 𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕜!

𝕋𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕜 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕤𝕠 𝕞𝕦𝕔𝕙 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕣𝕖𝕢𝕦𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘!!

Insecure Jeff The Killer

Jeff is insecure about a lot tbh

His looks, his mental problems, his physical health problems, his personality

Basically everything

But it's not like it's super bad all the time

Most of the time, he's actually really confident in himself

"omg im so beautiful everyone loves me sm i'm so perfect"

Stages of how he handles insecurity depends on a lot of things

It depends on who he's around, what triggered the feeling, and his environment

At his best, he will just become a little more quiet than usual and shy away from people

At his worst, he can be completely covered head to toe, and if anyone looks at him for too long he could lash out into a fight (verbal or physical)

Once he gets to that point though, there's not really much you can do to help, you just have to let him ride it out and come out of his shell on his own time

You can however, help prevent his insecurities from getting to that point

His most common triggers are: people saying anything negative about his looks, mirrors if he's having a bad day, and sometimes even if you mention someone else that is visually appealing to you

It'll start out slow, and barely noticeable

He'll talk less and less, and try to back out of any conversations

When it starts to amp up, he will put on a face mask to cover his scars

If you see him do this, let him know how beautiful you think he is, and give him lots of extra kisses

After this, he will put on some sunglasses to cover his burn scars around his eyes

Once he's done this, he will likely put his hood up too

At this point, it's starting to get really bad

The best way to help him is to take him somewhere spacious, yet private

And if you do that, he will slowly begin to remove his coverings

It goes twice as fast if you just sit and hold him, allow him to vent his frustrations to you

However, if you don't manage to catch any of the signs that he is beginning to spiral, then god help you

Jeff already has explosive anger issues, but his insecurity on top of that makes his mental state like a five year old with a loaded gun

You will think everything is fine, when all of a sudden you hear a loud "BANG" and the sound of Jeff yelling at someone

When you and other residents rush over to see what's happening, he will be in a full on fight with the poor soul that looked at him for too long

He won't stop on his own until said person is dead, because in his brain, they have something against him specifically and the threat needs to be eliminated

It will take Tim, E.J and Brian to finally pull him off of the person and get him away

E.J goes to take care of the person that was beat up and the other two carry him to a solitary room where he will be locked in until he calms down

Not even you are allowed to go in when his mental state is this fragile, because while he does love you more than anything, he's in a blacked out sort of state and won't recognize that you're just trying to help

Once you are allowed to see him though, he will either cling onto you for dear life, rambling about how stupid he is and how he should've just backed off

Or alternatively, he will completely self isolate from everyone, not allowing anyone to get too close

And if anyone does get close, he punches the nearest wall as a "warning" and storms off

Moral of the story, make sure to stroke his ego every now and then so we don't end up with dead residents

#creepypasta #slender mansion #creepypasta x y/n #creepypasta x you #creepypasta x female reader #jeff the killer #jeffery woods #jeff the killer x reader #jeff the killer headcanons #jeff the killer creepypasta #jeff the killer x y/n #jeff the killer x you #jeff woods #⭐ anon

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gayalienwilde · 6 months

Text

For this last day of celebration of Velvet Goldmine's 25th anniversary, I wanted to talk about why Velvet Goldmine is such an important movie to me. Nowadays shows and movies have gotten much better with their representation of marginalized groups, it's not always perfect, but it's definitely better than even just a decade ago. Growing up and seeing queer characters in mainstream media that, unless created to be a punchline or demonized, were sterilized and surrounded by a cast of cishet people with no connection to other queer people (maybe a partner but that's it), can give the wrong ideas to queer kids. Making it seem like queer people aren't a community but just a couple of random individuals in an otherwise heterosexual world, it's not only unrealistic but it creates a sense of isolation, forever the ugly duckling that never meets other swans. The lack of good representation is harmful to queer kids that might feel like they're never gonna find other people like them, this is the reason that token representation in media is not enough, it means nothing when a character's whole purpose is to show that queer people exist as a monolithic mass of sassy side-characters. For this reason, media about queer people made by queer people is extremely important because it shows different queer realities. In Velvet Goldmine's case, not only is the movie itself representation, but the story it tells is also about representation as seen from a young queer fan's perspective and how it affects him.

Seeing Brian and Curt be openly queer gives Arthur much more confidence in his own identity, this is shown when he imagines himself coming out to his parents through Brian's interview and when he goes out dressed like he wants and searches for the other glam kids. Even if both times he stops himself, in the first case because of his parents judgemental stares directed at Brian, and in the second case he's probably intimidated by the other kids that have been comfortable in their identities for much longer than him (which is kind of taken from Todd Haynes' own experience, in this interview he says that the older glitter girls were intimidating to him in middle school). This serves to show how representation can help the people that can't immediately be out and proud, because even if Arthur can't come out or make other queer friends he can find solace in Brian and Curt's music and general media presence, which is not only openly queer but sexual too. Later in the movie we will also see Arthur finally being able to be his true self and find his community in London, so it's not a surprise then seeing Arthur become a journalist when it was the interviews, magazines and newspapers that he'd read in his youth that helped him gain confidence in himself.

But for the viewer Arthur is he himself representation, his struggles and journey a mirror of the experiences of many young queer fans. For me personally the scene where Arthur tells his parents that he's going out and then sneakily takes off his jacket and goes out dressed like he wanted to be has always been the most relatable, him being happy walking in the crowd with his head held high reminds me of my first pride, even if I was too scared to approach anyone simply being surrounded by queer people and being able to be myself put me at ease, and later trying not to cry on the train back home while I took off anything that had rainbows on it and lying to my parents about where I had been, it's probably one of the biggest reasons I am so attached to Velvet Goldmine, I saw myself in it in a way I'd never seen in any other media before. Even 25 years after it's creation Velvet Goldmine's representation is still better than that of some recent media, because it doesn't shy away from showing the sad, the sexual and, most importantly, the happy parts of queer life. In the end, seeing Arthur go through a lot of different difficult situations both in his youth and in his adulthood and still manage to push through it all and find some connections with other queer people, first in London and then in the 80s when he's reunited with Curt, that gives me hope that no matter what we're all going through, we will keep making it, and most importantly it's a reminder that, to quote a Bowie song, you're not alone.

#velvet goldmine #VelvetGoldmine25th #25YearsOfVelvetGoldmine #happy bday Velvet Goldmine <3 #pointed epigram #movie analysis

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nonotnolan · 1 year

Text

Soul Stones: Long Distance

“It feels like it’s been forever since you’ve held me in your arms, and your trip is only halfway over. Honestly, I have no idea how people in long distance relationships can stand it.” The texts and calls helped alleviate some of the longing, but it was still rough knowing that Oliver was hours and hours away. Oliver wasn’t out to his parents, so when they told him about their plan to send him on vacation to Singapore for an entire month, he couldn’t really protest without raising suspicion. They were only going to pay for his ticket, and there was no way I’d be able to afford the trip on my own.

I placed my boyfriend on speakerphone so that I could scroll Instagram while we spoke. “At least everything is going fine over on my end. Same old boring life. My work gets done, my boss doesn’t hate me... could be worse. What about you, how’s your trip? If it’s even as half as good as these photos, it must be sweet.”

“Heh, yeah... it’s so gorgeous out here, Brian. Like, part of me says that I should be lying to you so that you don’t feel bad that you’re missing out, but... dude, we’ve gotta come back here later. I even managed to make a few friends with some guys who are also on vacation.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh, you managed, did you? Yeah, I’m sure it was so hard for the extroverted socialite to make friends.”

“Yeah, yeah, shut up...” he said, in that voice he uses when he knows I’m right. I could picture his blushing, and it was just entirely too cute. “But like, there wasn’t a guarantee there would be people my age here. I’m gonna count it as a win. Besides, you would not BELIEVE some of the people I’ve met. Like, this guy, Alfie? He’s the one I’ve tagged in a few of my other photos, and... well, I don’t want to ruin the surprise I mailed you.”

It was my turn to start blushing. “Ollie! You didn’t have to do that, what the heck? You’re on vacation, you’re supposed to be enjoying yourself! You don’t need to send me anything.”

“Well too bad, I sent it to you anyway.” Oliver had quickly shifted back to his normal smug self, which I had to admit was part of his charm. “Speaking of which-- have you checked your mail today? The tracking slip says it should have arrived by now. I think it’s small enough that they were able to put it in your mailbox.”

Sure enough, there was a small bubble-wrapped envelop waiting for me in my mailbox. Inside was a brown, marbled stone covered with intricate carved runes. “Oliver, it’s beautiful. What’s the story behind it? I didn’t expect Singapore to be known for its--”

There was a sudden lurch, and I suddenly found myself staring into the face of Oliver’s friend. That would have been weird enough, but it was clearly a mirror that I was staring at.

“It’s a body swapping stone,” Oliver said, coming up behind me and resting his hand on my shoulder. “Well, a pair of swapping stones. I didn’t believe it either, until Alfie showed me how they worked. It was his idea, obviously. He doesn’t need them anymore, and so he gifted them to me when I told him about our long distance situation. I figure you and Alfie can swap bodies Friday night, swap back sometime Sunday afternoon, and we can just... do that for a few weeks until the trip is over. And I’ll be taking mine home with me at the end of the trip, in case we ever need them again.”

I found myself running my hands along the ridges and curves of my new skin-- surprisingly soft new skin, I had to admit. “And Alfie is... fine with this? I mean, it sounds like swapping bodies every week was his idea, but like... He knows what we’re going to be doing to his body, right?”

“Of course, Brian. As long as I have permission to do the same in yours,” said the voice over the phone. I recognized it as the sound of my voice-- or, my body’s voice, I suppose-- though hearing from the outside was incredibly weird. It made sense that he’d be on the line, it wasn’t like I had hung up on him. “Oliver volunteered your body for me to use, but it’s not cool of me do to anything unless you tell me it’s okay.”

I hadn’t even considered that, to be honest. Granted, I was the only person who didn’t know that body swapping was possible a few minutes ago. “Yeah, of course, dude. Just, you know... use a condom, don’t drive my car if you’re hammered, that sort of thing. And I guess I’d rather you drive downtown if you’re looking for a random hookup, just so that you don’t run into anyone I know. Outside of that... good grief, Alfie. You’re doing us a huge favor! I can’t believe you’re just giving us these things.”

“Hey, I’m just glad someone is able to get good use out of those things,” he said. “I haven’t used them in several months, and... well, I don’t really need them anymore. I bought them for cheap, so it’s whatever. Just... do me a solid, and give them away if you see someone who could use ‘em.”

“Yeah, I think we can manage that,” Oliver said, looking over at my face. Now that the shock had worn off, I was already starting to get horny-- clearly he was feeling the same way. “Thanks again, Alfie, talk to you later!” He hung up, tossed his phone onto a nearby bed, and swept me up into his arms. If this is what our long distance relationship will look like? I think we can manage.

#male body swap #gay body swap #casual body swap #queer romance #soul stones

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srcepiksla · 8 months

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submission for @tgirlanthony's transcendent transgender zine

i call this one he's just like me but a girl (neither party is a girl... allegedly)

i wanted to make somewhat of a pseudo collage, so i painted a self portrait (inspired by those very genderful "rock guy doing makeup in mirror" pics that i really really love) and then added drawings of gerard way and brian molko and their respective quotes that may or may not have altered my brain chemistry forever....

as seen in the meme in the corner of the mirror they are very much to blame for the state of my gender so it made sense to make something with the two of them <3

#zines #transcendent transgender #art #mcr #placebo #digital art #for the zine organizer: id like to be credited as just kate @srcepiksla if that works <3 #my art #artists on tumblr

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typhlonectes · 1 year

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Fish can recognize themselves in photos, further evidence they may be self-aware

Self-awareness may be more widespread among animals than we once thought

Some fish can recognize their own faces in photos and mirrors, an ability usually attributed to humans and other animals considered particularly brainy, such as chimpanzees, scientists report. Finding the ability in fish suggests that self-awareness may be far more widespread among animals than scientists once thought.

“It is believed widely that the animals that have larger brains will be more intelligent than animals of the small brain,” such as fish, says animal sociologist Masanori Kohda of Osaka Metropolitan University in Japan. It may be time to rethink that assumption, Kohda says.

Kohda’s previous research showed that bluestreak cleaner wrasses can pass the mirror test, a controversial cognitive assessment that purportedly reveals self-awareness, or the ability to be the object of one’s own thoughts. The test involves exposing an animal to a mirror and then surreptitiously putting a mark on the animal’s face or body to see if they will notice it on their reflection and try to touch it on their body. Previously only a handful of large-brained species, including chimpanzees and other great apes, dolphins, elephants and magpies, have passed the test.

In a new study, cleaner fish that passed the mirror test were then able to distinguish their own faces from those of other cleaner fish in still photographs. This suggests that the fish identify themselves the same way humans are thought to — by forming a mental image of one’s face, Kohda and colleagues report February 6 in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences...

https://www.sciencenews.org/article/fish-recognize-photo-self-aware

photographs of Bluestreak Cleaner Wrasse: Izuzuki; Matthias Kleine; w/ Doubleband Surgeonfish by Brian Gratwicke CC

#animal intelligence #fish #ichthyology #animals #science #animal welfare #nature #biology #ocean #marine biology #animal cognition

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catieconqueso · 9 months

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Of where we'd end up at the end of it...

An Apollo x Grace Oneshot (4k words) I wanted to explore the Veil a little further since its really only mentioned as this ominous thing that happens when a new Idol rises. So here's a not-so-quick one shot featuring Grace dealing with the effects of the Veil.

Usually I only post my writing on Ao3, but since there's no Stray Gods tag yet, posting this here instead. (Please be nice! I don't usually post my writing here!)

She’s still sitting on the couch, clutching a cup of iced coffee that’s more water than coffee, when the light switches on and bathes the apartment in soft golden light. “Grace?” Freddie’s standing in the doorway stuck somewhere halfway between the doorframe and shoving her keys into her back pocket as she stares at the only occupant of a room that should have been empty. “What the hell are you doing here?” Grace doesn’t answer, not at first, just stares blankly at Freddie as she flicks her wrist over and over to swirl the liquid in her coffee cup as if it were the only thing keeping her from floating away. And it was. “Didn’t know where to go,” she finally admits after a period of silence that has just begun to border on uncomfortable. “And I still had my keys, so I thought…” She trails off, the thumb of her free hand stroking along the golden sun hung around her middle finger.

“Gods, Grace,” Freddie exhales as she toes off her boots and climbs onto the couch beside her. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you. Why didn’t you call?” She doesn’t need to ask who ‘we’ meant, not with the two dozen missed calls and texts left unseen on her phone—Freddie, Kaz and Brian, Oracle, even a voicemail from Persephone, who’d merely informed Grace that she’d go to the Underworld and kick her shade’s ass if she was lying in a ditch somewhere. And beneath all that had been a single text of garbled capital letters and punctuation that had begged her to please come home. That it was okay that she was mad at him, that he just wanted her to come home. “I…” She begins, throat aching and raw from hours spent choking down tears and screaming into whatever pillow was closest. “I…” She starts again, swallowing thickly over the lump of emotion that threatens to choke her, but the words won't come out no matter how hard she tries. Some Muse she was, unable to string together a couple sentences worth of an excuse so she could go back to wallowing in her self-pity alone. So instead, she hands Freddie the coffee cup. Grace tries to ignore the way her hands shake as she does so. She tries even more to forget the name written in looping ink that taunts her from between Freddie’s outstretched fingers. “Grace, what are you…oh.” For all her trying to hide it, Grace easily clocks the exact moment when Freddie’s confusion devolves into pity. And then into hesitant worry as she tucks the cup into the couch cushions beside her.

“The barista asked for my name,” Grace explains, thumb still working impatient circles into the gold ring on her finger. “And I said it was Calliope.”

It had been such a little thing, an off-handed moment that shouldn’t have meant anything— a slip of the tongue. And it's not like she didn’t know this was coming, not with all the gentle touches and easing into the newness of it all. But she’s starting to lose more bits of herself day by day. She’s taken to drinking tea in the morning instead of her usual overly sweet coffee, even though a month ago, the bitter taste of it made her want to puke. And that the sound of ocean waves has begun to remind her of a summer spent some time in the 18th century wrapped in the warmth of the sun while lying naked on a bed of sand. That the scent of the newly sprouted cherry blossoms lining the entrance of Olympus reminds her of Paris in springtime, even though she’s never even left the country. But most of all, it's that two days ago, she looked in the mirror and for a split second didn’t recognize the face looking back.

It’s how it works. We all went through it, kid. Persephone had told her that night over too many glasses of whiskey beneath the neon lights of the Underworld when Grace had taken to drowning out the feeling that she was a stranger in her own skin with whatever booze she’d been able to get her hands on. Didn’t Apollo warn you?

Of course, Apollo had warned her. He’d spent every waking minute preparing her for the moment when Calliope would come rushing in like the tide on mornings they’d gotten up early to watch the sunrise. Just gotta let it happen, Grace. I’ll be there waiting on the other side when it does. Stupid, sweet Apollo, who’d been nothing but achingly gentle when Grace wanted nothing more than to rage against the shit hand that fate had dealt her. Had soothed the storm that swirled inside her when all she could think about was ending the cycle just so the next Calliope didn’t have to watch helplessly as everything that made her Grace slipped away. “Oh, Grace,” Freddie breathes out as she settles a warm hand on her knee with a watery smile. “I…” Freddie swallows, testing her next words on her tongue before she lets them free in a rush of an exasperated sigh. Cause it's not like this is the first time Grace’s disappeared for a few days, only to reappear as though nothing were wrong, still riding on the tail end of a bender. “Does Apollo know?” Grace shrugs and sinks into the couch cushions as though they were swallowing her up, and she wishes they would. “We’re not exactly talking at the moment,” she admits with a pang of guilt she hasn’t felt since she was a kid and her mom caught her sneaking out to go to some concert with Freddie.

“Grace,” Freddie repeats, fingers stroking along the swath of bare, pale skin that peaks out from beneath the hole worn into denim over her kneecap. “I think you should…” “I know Fred,” she interrupts, again letting her thumb trace over the golden sun, “it…I said some real shitty things to him, not sure he wants to see me.”

He wanted her to come home so he could take care of her 'cause that’s all he did— he took care of her when all she wanted was someone to see her, to hear her. Had pacified the storm in her until it was nothing more than a breeze and had reduced her walls to rubble so that he could easily crawl inside. When he tried to clean up the broken pieces of the mirror, of her cracked and broken sanity, she’d thrown it back in his face. Called him a coward, had accused him of wanting Calliope and not her, that he’d stuck around to ensure that every last piece of her was replaced. And patient, kind Apollo had remained silent as he wiped the gore from her knuckles with gentle touches and soft presses of his lips to her bloodied skin. But they both had been too stubborn to apologize. He’d once warned her so long ago outside of the Underworld that Idols liked to hold grudges. And they’d both become so good at holding onto theirs like a lifeline in a swirling sea. So instead of speaking, of putting the weeks of fear and confusion into words, she grabbed her jacket and left with a half mumbled excuse that she needed air. Had spent the next two days splitting her time between the Underworld and the uncomfortable leather of the couch in Persephone’s office.

“Persephone kicked me out,” she explains when Freddie presses the cold beer bottle into her waiting hands. “Said I either had to deal with my shit or start paying for my drinks.” Grace pauses to take a comforting swig of alcohol and finds that the taste makes her teeth ache. Yet another thing Calliope’s taken from her. “And instead of going home, you decided to break into my apartment?” Freddie sips gingerly at her beer as she fixes Grace with a look that says she can see through the bullshit, excuses, and lies. “Said I still had the keys.” Grace folds in draws her knees up to her chest, and settles her chin on the rough fabric of her denim-covered knees. It's all she can do to shield herself from the words that tumble from her lips. “I’m losing myself, Freddie,” she admits, her words rough and ruined by the tears that track down her cheeks. “And I’m scared.” Freddie doesn’t answer, instead wraps her in a warm embrace until Grace stops shaking and her breaths are no longer heaving, choking sobs. And Grace is thankful that, for the first time in three days, she no longer has to pretend that everything is okay. That she can finally put into words the aching, raw feeling in her chest that she’s tried so hard to drown out with whiskey. They don’t talk, don’t need to. Not that she wants to. She’s had enough of talking, of rationalizing every little thing that’s been happening to her. For the first time in three days, Grace permits herself to feel anything other than the bitter numbness she’s masked her fear with. And she drowns herself in it. It's not until hours later that she resurfaces from her grief, warm and blanket wrapped amongst the sheets of a familiar bed.

“You’re awake,” he murmurs, voice roughed by lack of sleep and three days of worry. The same worry he wears in the swaths of purple beneath his eyes and the unruly stubble that creeps down his neck. “I…I…” His hand rubs the back of his head and musses the golden curls that have been reduced to snarled tangles where they hang limply over his ears. He’s nervous, she thinks, watching as he repeats the gesture before fisting his hands into the fabric of his pants. “It’s good to see you.” He leans forward to settle his hand on her bare leg, where it peeks from beneath the blankets, but she’s faster as she draws her legs back beneath them before she can feel the heat that radiates off him. She’s wearing nothing but her underwear and one of his t-shirts, which, all things considered, was a blessing because Grace was certain her clothing reeked of cigarettes, booze, and the Underworld. Apollo sighs in reply and lets his palm settle over the still-warm sheets where her legs once rested. For a moment, his eyes flutter closed like he’s a junkie, and the warmth of where she’d laid is enough to soothe his craving to touch her. But there’s an ocean between them now, more profound than the one that swells and ebbs outside the bedroom window where she’d once felt safe. And the thought of his too-large, too-warm hands on her makes Grace want to crawl out of her skin.

“How did I get here?” She sits up, greeted by their bedroom that still looks exactly as she’d left it three days ago. His shirt still haphazardly hangs across the dresser from when she’d ripped it from his shoulders and tossed it over hers, and her bra’s still tucked halfway out from beneath the chair he sits upon. Both tell her it's the first time either of them has set foot in this room since she stormed out. “Freddy called me.” Called Oracle, she thinks, cause even with her patient prodding, Apollo still balks at the idea of using the simple flip phone she bought him. She knew he’d been desperate to find her when he’d resorted to texting her himself. But that’s not enough to soothe the rage slowly creeping up to settle on her shoulders. “Gods, it… it's been three days. I thought maybe you…you’d…that…” Apollo’s voice cracks with the weight of his guilt as he looks at her with the kind of desperation that quiets her storm. Her already broken heart rents and breaks as the weight of his words settles heavily on her shoulders. He’s already failed her, Calliope, once before, again, and it would break him. Maybe it's the year spent in the company of the god of prophecies, but for a moment, she’s granted a prophecy of her own, a hazy vision of Apollo soaked in sunlight as he walks into the sea with no one around this time to save him. “Sorry,” is all she can manage to say as she sinks deeper into herself. “I meant to call.”

“Meant to call?” His visions gone golden as his anger wells up, raw and fierce. “Fuck, Grace” he growls, hands tearing through his hair, “I…I thought you were dead!” Her own anger crackles beneath her skin in response to his because all they do anymore is fight. He’s the god of the sun, golden flames lit by the festering rage between them, and she’s his muse, her passion, the kindling that he burns through. “Obviously, I’m not,” she shoots back. Suddenly the rooms too hot, too stifling, and the blankets a band of iron keeping her tethered to the bed, to him. She throws them off, throws off the crushing weight of the guilt that threatens to snap her already fragile shoulders. “Not sure why you were so worried.” “Cal…Grace,” he starts, stumbling over the name. He’s just as unsure of which face she wears as she is. Today, it's Grace, but she knows that that won’t always be true in the future. Eventually, Grace will ebb with the tide of the Veil until all that’s left is Calliope. He’s done it a hundred times before, acts like it's nothing, that she should surrender to it all without putting up a fight. But Grace? This is her first time, and she feels like she’s constantly drowning beneath the weight of the eidolon in her chest. And Apollo’s the lifeboat she can’t quite reach. “You need to talk to me,” he sighs, hands, at last, settling on her bare calves, and Grace finds the warmth of his skin is just a touch more soothing than revolting.

“Nothing to talk about,” she answers, hiding behind the mask of monosyllabic answers. “It's fine,” she adds though she knows it to be untrue. It’s become easier and cleaner to lie to him than to lean on the still-strong bond that’d formed between them, and Grace’s found that a lie was often the most straightforward answer. Cause she doesn’t want to look at him and see disappointment reflected back where once shone love and pride. He doesn’t buy it. He never buys it. Instead, Apollo wordlessly slips into the bed beside her, his too-warm body curling over hers as though he could shield her from it all. And she lets him, too worn down and exhausted to protest, when his arm settles around her waist and pulls her against the hard planes of his body. “Talk to me, Grace,” he whispers softly into the crown of her hair. “Please.” Her shoulders finally snap at the weight of his words, so tender and warm, and she begins to cry. It feels like all she’s done is cry. Like somehow she’s thrown a lifetime of emotion into the past week and has come out the end worn and raw, with only her tears left to show for it. Breaking down still feels foreign, even after a lifetime of grief condensed into the span of two years, and she folds into herself in the hope of quelling the bitter tears that track down her cheeks to pool in the cleft of her collarbones. “I don’t,” she sobs, sinking into his embrace, “I don’t know how.”

Apollo’s patient, kind as he holds her, the only sound breaking the silence between him are his soft mummers of comfort and her hiccoughing sobs. “Shh, I have you, darlin’,” he breathes softly into the skin where her neck meets her shoulders. “I have you,” he repeats, fingertips gentle as they curve over the swath of her belly from where it peeks from beneath her stolen shirt. “Don’t need to talk just yet.” She thinks of using her powers for a moment, that she might be able to put her thoughts into song than she can words. But she does need to talk. Needs to get out the words that hang heavy in her chest. “I’m scared,” she finally admits when her tears no longer strangle her words. “Apollo, I’m so scared.” Her admission is deafening, her heart pounding in her ears. She’s always been the strong one, the rock, Grace, who everyone can depend on to swoop in and save the day. Vulnerability doesn’t come easy to her, even in front of Apollo, who’s seen her stripped down to nothing so many times that she’s lost count. Apollo, who’s laid himself bare in kind, even though she’s only ever held him at arm's length when he asked her to do the same.

“Shh, Grace,” he repeats, arms tightening around her as if he could shield her from the Veil itself. “I know you’re scared, but you need to talk to me.” He shifts her gently, as though she’s made of glass, until they are face to face. It's then that she realizes he’s been crying too. “I…I called myself Calliope today,” Grace answers, suddenly ashamed that such a trivial thing’s caused an ocean sized rift between them. It's not like any of this came as a surprise. It's not like she’s had a year of Apollo’s patient tutoring to prepare her for the eventuality. But that didn’t make the fact that she was slowly slipping away any less jarring. He chuckles, though it's hollow, forced. “The first time’s always the worst.” They’re not quite touching anymore, the ocean that separates them swelling up between the gaps where their skin should be flushed and entwined. “You’ll get used to it.” But she doesn’t want to get used to it, doesn’t want to feel like a stranger in her own skin. The thought of hearing Freddie or Persephone, or Gods, even Apollo calling her Grace, and her no longer recognizing her own name made her want to puke. It made her feel like she was that last bit of pencil that hadn’t been erased yet. It was inevitable, but waiting for it to happen, Gods, that was the worst part. “How,” she challenges, her anger towards him, Calliope, and Fate itself flaring hot and scorching beneath her skin. “How do I get used to not being me?”

Apollo smiles, gentle, patient, and soft, as he brushes her dark hair from her cheek, the touch coming after what feels like a lifetime of waiting. “By letting me in, Grace,” he answers, shifting so his lips can whisper soft over her own. His hand is warm as he cups her chin and forces her to look him in the eye. And for the first time that night, she meets his cool gaze willingly. “By not doing this alone.” Grace melts into the touch, lets herself feel safe, lets the weight of the past three days slip away until she’s light as air. “I…what if you don’t love me when I’m her?” It feels strange to put it into words, the dark thought that lingers about the edges of her. It used to be a seed, tucked into the earth unseen, but it's festered, grown into vines that wrap around her wrists, ankles, and, worst of all, her heart.

She’s fed it with the doubt she pretends not to see in his eyes when they get into a fight. Feeds it with the knowledge that between him and Calliope is a lifetime of fighting and reconciliation. With the fear that no matter how hard they try, it still won’t work out in the end. That, like Calliope, she’ll be alone. “If it didn’t work before, why now? Why are we any different, Apollo?”

Apollo kisses her instead of speaking, drawing her beneath his weight with warm hands heavy on her waist. “Grace,” he murmurs, facial hair tickling her skin as he peppers kisses along the curve of her jaw. “You are kind,” he pauses to press his lips to each of her cheekbones, “and caring,” another kiss to the tip of her nose, “and braver than anyone I have ever met.” His lips are soft when they meet the skin of her forehead. “And for all her fire, Calliope could never burn away all of you.” He chuckles as he settles his full weight atop her, stunned when she lets him. “You’re too stubborn for that.” “That doesn’t mean anything,” she grumbles, too warm beneath him. Apollo, God of the Sun, burns hotter than a furnace as Grace relents and every bit of her sinks into him. “You said yourself, eventually, she’ll take over.” “And,” he answers, words muffled as he tucks his head into the crook of her shoulder, “I also said I’d be here the whole time.” His teeth are gentle where they nip at whatever bit of her bare neck he can reach. “And that this time it’d last, but you seem to have forgotten that detail.” “Apollo,” she warns when his hand slips down her side to trace the curve of her hip. “Grace,” he parrots with a smile just as dazzling as the golden rays of sunlight streaking through the curtains. “Do you want to know something?”

Grace groans and wiggles her hips until she finds a comfortable spot beneath him. Difficult considering all of Apollo’s muscled bulk dwarfed hers by about a mile. But If Apollo’s in one of his romantic moods, well, then she’d better be settled in for the long haul. “Not sure if I do,” she grouses. “Think you might want to hear this.” Apollo pauses to tangle his fingers in hers. But fuck, his hand fits perfectly over hers, impossibly warm and just a shade too large. “You know that Calliope and I always found each other, even after our eidolons passed to the next person,” he explains, thumb stroking over the matching sun rings they wore. “That even if she and I were worlds apart, our souls would always find each other again.”

“I’m not really sure what this has to do with me,” Grace interrupts, suddenly very much aware of the one-sidedness of their memories. Course, the slate would be evened out when the Veil lifted, but she still sometimes caught Apollo staring at her with an unfamiliar reverence that spoke to memories she had yet to unlock. Like the reason he always wanted to sketch her lying out naked when they’d awake in the morning after a night of making love. Or the story behind the song he’d sing softly into her hair as they dozed watching the sunset on the sand.

“Because you, Grace,” Apollo murmurs. “My sweet, kind, brave, stubborn Grace. You’re the only one who’s captured me wholly, body and soul. We won’t have to find each other because we will never be parted. Not even the Fates would be enough to take me from you.” “You’re only saying that because you’re the one who insisted we get married.” She rolls her eyes at this slip into melancholia that’s sweet enough to make her teeth ache. But her heart still swells until it's impossible full at the love that shines in his eyes as he tilts his head down to capture her lips in a tender kiss that leaves the pair of them gasping for air when they finally part. “Grace or Calliope, it doesn’t matter. I’ll be here for you, no matter what.” Apollo’s gone soft, less stoic in the years since she’s met him. She knows he hates the romantic streak she’s carved into him, but it doesn’t stop the grand declarations of love he likes to wax to her at least once a day. And the longer she spends with him, she finds she doesn’t hate them, not at all. “Til the last star burns out of the sky.” “But what if it doesn’t work out,” she asks, guilt and doubt still lingering in her thoughts. Despite his assurances, she suspects it’ll be a while until they finally subside. “What if it stays the same?” “Then we’ll work through it together,” Apollo answers as, at last, Grace relaxes beneath him. “And if you still don’t believe me, I promise you that I’ll be here the whole time.” Grace smiles in earnest for the first time in three days as she finally surrenders to the joy and love that radiates off him like rays of sunlight. “I’ll hold you to that.”

#stray gods #stray gods the roleplaying musical #stray gods apollo #stray gods grace #grace x apollo #fluff and angst #one shot #but its like super long #please be gentle with this one #don't usually post my writing on tumblr #stray gods persephone #stray gods freddie #stray gods calliope

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adoranoia · 1 month

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sorry for giving all my muses tf2 verses bc my friends are brainrotting there, it will happen again. uh, for brian, tldr...‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ -brian iwasaki-hughes, better well known was 'the exterminator', is someone without any loyalty to either team, him working under the administer herself. -basically, his job to keep red folks outta blu's base, and the other way around, as well, along with any one else that tries sneaking in, trespassing, etc. ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ -he doesn't kill them, but that doesn't mean he causes no harm--his main weapons are a large, pressurized spray-gun, a bug-zapper like tazer, and simple lil traps, (think a extra strong glue-trap sorta thing). -wears a half-face mask, over his mouth, as to not get knocked out by his own spray-gun, along w/ cover-alls.‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

#* && OOC #* && SELF // MIRROR ( BRIAN . )#v02 * ( tf2 au ) .#DO U CARE HIM. I LIKE HIM SO MUCH

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socialredux · 2 months

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𝙑𝙖𝙣𝙞𝙨𝙝𝙚𝙙 (𝔓𝔞𝔯𝔱 ℑ)

The Proxies X Fem!Metalhead!Reader

Massive warning for graphic violence, self harm, and smut in ongoing chapters.

Hi teem, So this is gonna be a lengthy explanation. This story is loosely based on the black metal band Mayhem and some of the things the lead vocalist did. I HIGHLY recommend looking up both black metal and Mayhem this story will make more sense. ANYWAYS, there's mass controversy surrounding the band but idgaf. Black metal in the Creepypasta universe is fucking legendary, I saw an opportunity and ran with it. This series will be edgy, If you're triggered by self harm and dark subjects such as suicide this is not for you. Thank you for reading, you have been warned!

The proxies get sent by the operator to a black metal venue for a mission. The reader is the lead vocalist in a band called Funeral Terror Tim, Brian, and Toby are fascinated by the reader's profound performance. Never have they seen such a grotesque display put on for the public. They must take you to the operator.

??? Pov

“ What the fuck even is black metal? That sounds like some lame ass gimmick.”

The edges of Tim's vision still blurred with buzzing static. He had just finished conversing with the Operator.

“ Doesn’t matter, we have a job to do. We should be careful though this venue has a history of being incredibly lenient when it comes to its attendees.” brian said

“ Which m-means?”

Toby questioned leaning back in his chair.

“ Means these fuckers could be armed. Bet there’s drugs going around which would make our job even harder.” Tim said with a serious tone.

“ We have to have our guards up especially if we have to talk with those.. people.”

Tim’s pause was telling.

“ What’s the victim’s n–name?.”

Toby’s shoulder jerked. Looking towards Tim for an answer.

“ R/N R/L. The Operator told me she may be trouble, so all the more reason to keep our guards up.”

“ O–oo a girl! We haven’t had a female victim in ages!”

Toby spoke, whistling enthusiastically. Brian chuckled.

“ Don’t get too excited, he wants us to bring her to him alive. There’s a chance she may be a candidate for a new proxy.”

Tim got quiet

“ Pshhh what could be so special about her. Besides! The Operator hasn’t chosen a new proxy since Toby.”

brian said smirking

“ Yea–yeah and we do our jobs just fine. What could she do that we can't?”

Toby said with a roll of his eyes.

“ I don’t know but let’s get this over with.” Tim finished.

At the venue

Reader’s Pov

Staring in the mirror, my reflection staring back at me. I felt like a shit though not many could see it so plainly. My clammy palms gripped the porcelain sink that resided in the shitty dressing room bathroom. I donned a short sleeve fitted Bahtory t-shirt, ripped camo pants, black boots, and a bullet belt. Scars littered my wrists and shoulders from past mutilation. Finishing my corpse paint really solidified my reality.

Outside of the dressing room was bustling with staff making sure the stage equipment, lighting, and sound system were all in good condition. Some stopped and asked me questions while I fished a cigarette from my pocket. Basic annoying questions like-

“ Are you ready to perform?”

“ Are your bandmates ready?”

“ How many songs are you performing?”

Lighting my cigarette pushed past the small crowd of people finding my bandmates tuning their instruments and lounging on a small couch. Above the couch pinned to the wall was a set list and a calendar. 2014 June 21st. This was the 5th show our band Funeral Terror had played, I wouldn’t consider what we were doing as touring but it was to some degree.

Today’s concert venue resides in a small town called Tuscaloosa Alabama. The reason my bandmates and I chose such a seemingly pointless place was because of its alarmingly dark history. This town was the perfect place to play black metal. Maybe I’d get to witness some paranormal shit first hand. It also gave you an excuse to do some wicked things tonight

“ There’s our deadgirl.”

Corpus greeted me with delight. He's my bassist, his real name wasn’t actually Corpus it was actually connor however, all of my bandmates had stage names. Mine being cadaverous.

Nodding at him with approval I took a long drag from my cigarette. Sighing in contentment.

“ What are our plans for after the show? I think we could go hit the local pub and get a few beers, heard their food fucks too.”

My guitarist said with a shrug. His stage name was blasphemy.

“ Hell yeah, I’m down, something tells me this night is gonna be long.”

I say flopping down next to blasphemy on the worn couch. My cigarette loosely hung from my lips

“ Are you guys ready to raise the dead with this show tonight?”

I say with a grin. My bandmates holler and whistle enthusiastically.

“ Fuck is that even a question. I haven't been this pumped for a show in forever.”

Blasphemy said, taking a sip of his beer.

“ How much longer do we have to wait for these openers to finish their sets.”

My drummer SKAG groaned. Almost as if right on queue the staff motioned for us to get on stage. We all stood up ready to take our places in front of the growing crowd.

Showtime.

??? pov

The four proxies stepped out of Tim’s sketchy toyota corolla into the summer night air. They observed the few people making their way into the concert building. Walking up to the door they were met with a tall lanky long haired man wearing some band tee Tim had never heard of.

“ That’ll be a 10 dollar admission.”

He spoke with a low tone. Great, we have to pay to get in too, Tim thought. Each proxy member handed over the money, getting not more than a casual nod to go in.

“ I stu-still have yet to see a girl with our victims descript–-shion.”

Toby said.

“ We haven’t even made it through the crowd.relax.”

Brian replied. The proxies continued to shove through the dense crowd. They settled on a row back from the stage. Keeping a close eye on the people around them and listening in on short yells of conversation. Finally a figure walked on the stage with brisk speed. The person was dressed similarly to the guy taking money at the door.

“ Now for the band you’ve all been waiting for.. raise your horns for Funeral Terror!”

The crowd erupted with screams raising their hands bumping into one another. The lights dimmed the beginnings of a guitar riff ripped through the speakers, the movements from the people around the proxies became more rapid. Brian and Tim stood still while Toby began to bump against the crowd. Of course he’d enjoy this kind of shit.

Finally the lights brightened casting a purple ghostly glow upon the lead singer who bellowed out scratchy growling vocals. It wasn’t a man as he had initially thought it was a woman. A woman that fit the exact description the operator had mentioned. Her S/C was painted a ghoulish white with black wisped around her eyes. Her lips painted into a black frown making her seem more corpse-like.

“ G-get a load of her!”

Toby yelled through the roaring bass of the crowd. Tim was stunned never had he heard such music. Each word she sang was drawn out in a growl and it rattled through the speakers in an ear piercing fashion.

Towards the crescendo of the song the proxies noticed her gripping something from her belt, it was a knife. It looked dull from the glint it gave off. She raised her wrist to the view of the crowd, dragging it along the thin flesh of her forearm. It was so dull the slits were shallow giving only slight beads of blood. The frustration was evident on her painted face. Throwing down the dull knife she searched the ground, grabbing an empty bottle close to the forefront of the stage. The crowd continued to roar, the guitar riffs at their highest peak. Smashing the bottle she took what was left of the shattered glass raising her arm once more. She cut deep gashes into her already mutilated flesh. Blood poured from the searing wounds splattering onto the people below her. A few opened their mouths, some just looked up with amazement. It was a grotesque sight to see.

All of it happened so quickly Tim, Brian, and Toby couldn’t help but stare in awe. This chick was fucking nuts. Toby could’ve sworn she caught his gaze just for a moment. The song ended, another one starting up the band finished a total of 6 songs before the concert ended. They pulled other insane stunts throughout the duration of their performance. The proxies shared looks as the band walked off the stage.

The crowd began to disperse loud chatter took place of the long gone music.

“ That was fucking in–sane!”

Toby said, still twitching with excitement.

“ No seriously, I have never seen someone do such a thing. Especially in front of a crowd.”

Brian said excitement also lacing his voice. Tim was in deep thought.

“ She’s our victim isn’t she, Tim”

Brian asked with a head tilt Tim nodded.

“ We have to go find the band before they leave or at least follow them to wherever they plan to go. “

The proxies nodded in agreement.

Reader’s Pov

The searing pain of my self inflicted wounds gave me such a rush on stage but now I’m left shaking. I felt dizzy. Everything felt far away as my bandmates helped me down the stairs backstage.

“ You’re fucking crazy R/N. We gotta get your arms bandaged before we go anywhere.”

Blasphemy said worry very evident in his voice but admiration seemed to also be behind his words. He was serious though, even using my real name but I barely noticed. Everything blurred together as they tended to my arms. I hissed in pain as they Wrapped it with gauze and duct tape to make it stay in place. I felt guilty resentment bubbling up in my gut. The adrenaline passed and I was left with a voided feeling of numbness. Looking down at my bandaged arms made bile rise in the back of my throat. This feeling pained me but god, was it addicting.

My bandmates huddled around me, staying silent as the staff finished patching me up. I still felt myself shaking. I must've lost a lot of blood. Grabbing my pack of cigarettes, I put one to my lips.

“ Can one of you give me a light?”

I request. SKAG nodded, fishing a lighter from his pocket. He put the lighter up to my cig, igniting it. I inhaled the smooth spiced tobacco sighing in relief. Honestly I could eat.

“ So… Pub time?”

Corpus said with a meek smile.

“You read my mind.”

??? Pov

“ I think only one of us should go in.”

Tim suggested. The others nodded in agreement.

“ Toby, I think you should go. You look like somebody they’d talk to.”

“ I don’t knu–know what you’re sugges–ting but fine.”

Toby rolled his eyes.

“Okay good, Brian and I will stay in here and keep watch. Maybe try to get her away from her friends. We'll figure out our next step then.”

The proxies followed the foursome to the local pub named Donner's. They watched the band walk into the pub waiting a few spare moments before sending Toby inside.The door chimed with his arrival, Toby quickly scanned the small place. It was quite busy and the patrons were happily chatting away. He spotted the group of four sitting at a table near the bar. He made his way to a seat closest to the table. Getting comfortable he ordered a drink.

“ One of the house beers on tap, ple-please.”

The bartender nodded, turning away to prepare his drink. Toby began to listen to the table next to him.

“ Holy fuck that reminds me of the time SKAG got so fucking drunk he fell in the bonfire then proceeded to yak in it too.”

One of the guys laughed maniacally.

“ I told you to never mention that again.”

One of the other guys said through gritted teeth.

“ Ay corp you can’t say shit. Weren’t you literally passed out NAKED next to a creek 3 miles from the cabin.”

R/N said with a raised brow. The table erupted into laughter. The guy just silently sipped his drink.

“ One house beer.”

The bartender set the drink in front of Toby. He gave a meek thank you sipping on the wheaty beverage. Then suddenly

“ Hey little lady, you’re too pretty to be doing all that to yourself.”

A drunk guy slurred. Toby turned towards the voice. The guy was referring to R/N’s healed wounds that ran up and down her exposed arms.

“ Oh yeah? How bout’ you kick rocks you fucking geezer.”

She bit back.

“ Just trying to give you advice sweetie. No man wants a girl with those kinds of problems. No need to be such a cunt.”

He drunkenly barked gripping onto her shoulder. Before he could even get out another word she smashed her beer glass against his head knocking him out cold. The pub went silent seconds later her bandmates cheered. Toby was shocked. This girl is something else.

“Hope you learned your lesson geezer.”

She spit on his unconscious body before stepping over it.

“ I’m gonna go smoke, I'll be back.”

Her bandmates acknowledged her before going back to chatting. She briskly walked out the door. Fuck Toby had to follow her this was his chance.

Toby followed out the door. Finding her not far from the pub entrance, lighting her cigarette.

“ H–Hey can I bum a cigarette from you?”

Toby asked. She gave him a look before nodding, handing over the pack.

“ Need a light too?”

R/N questioned.

“ Yeah, thanks.”

Toby took a drag from it; he couldn't deny it was pretty good. He’s used to Tim’s shitty ones. They stood in silence while nursing their cigarettes.

“ So u-uhh I saw what you did to that guy. That was pretty ha-hardcore.”

Toby began. She chuckled.

“ Yeah, when people comment on things like that I don’t usually care but tonight was different…Hey weren’t you in the crowd at my show tonight?”

R/N question.

“ I w–was, that was one hell of a concert. I didn’t know thin–gs like that were allowed.”

Toby said. She shrugged.

“ I appreciate it.”

The two stood in silence for a few moments.

“ This chat was cool in all but I should ge–-”

Before she could even finish Toby knocked her out. He quickly caught her unconscious body spotting Tim’s shitty car. He be-lined it to the car dragging her along.

The operator was hopefully going be pleased.

This took me so long bro , Let me know what you guys think! I should have the next chapter out in a month or so maybe sooner :D I didn't proof read the whole thing so I apologize if there's errors!

#marble hornets #creepypasta #ticci toby x reader #masky x reader #hoodie x reader #slenderverse #the operator #dead dove #dark fic #Spotify

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angelholme · 4 months

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Fuck a doodle do.

In a statement, Prince Harry said the ruling was "vindicating and affirming" and took aim at senior executives and editors including Piers Morgan - who was in charge at the Daily Mirror from 1995 to 2004.

Judge Mr Justice Fancourt found Morgan knew about phone hacking at the paper.

He said the Duke's phone was probably only hacked to a modest extent and was "carefully controlled by certain people" from the end of 2003 to April 2009.

Jesus -- this is.... unbelievable.

When asked what he thought the way forward was, he said to scrap the current press regulator, the Independent Press Standards Organisation, which he likened to a "poodle".

"You have to get independent regulation as Leveson called for, which we haven't got because, there's a self regulator poodle, not a watchdog," he said.

"You also need to have the Leveson Inquiry restarted or completed... which the government cancelled at the request of those being investigated."

The Tory government should hang its head in shame. I mean -- it won't, but seriously -- this is appalling.

The government has failed to find the courage to hold the press accountable, a media lawyer has said.

Jonathan Coad said that despite Prince Harry's victory, only politicians can bring about real change.

However, it has never ensured the press regulated itself according to the principles set out in the Leveson Inquiry, he said.

"If you're going to be accountable, someone has got to have the courage to hold you accountable," he told Sky News.

"Harry has fought the battle and said it needs to change, but it is only going to change if politicians have the courage to take on Fleet Street.

"At the moment, they have shown a complete lack of intention of doing so.

What was the Leveson Inquiry and why is it relevant?

In 2011, Judge Sir Brian Leveson led a public inquiry after it was revealed News Of The World journalists had hacked the phone of murdered school girl Milly Dowler.

Initially intended to be carried out in two sections, the first part of the inquiry looked at the culture, practices and ethics of the press. It involved celebrities including Hugh Grant, Sienna Miller, Steve Coogan and Charlotte Church.

Part two of the Leveson Inquiry was meant to investigate the relationship between journalists and the police, but never took place. There have since been calls to re-open it.

#phone hacking #hacked off #fleet street #daily mirror #mirror group #piers morgan #prince harry #gentlemen of the press #leveson inquiry

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gerbiloftriumph · 23 days

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Floating Castle Liveblog (first read)

The King's Quest series has been graced with a very silly and very wonderful trilogy of adapted novels, and of them all, the first is my favorite. I have read it more times than I should, and liveblogged my musings on Goodreads in real time, er, multiple times.

Below is my first readthrough. Follow along with my initial, baffled, but ultimately delighted, self. Obviously, spoilers for an objectively terrible but subjectively amazing video game novelization from the 90s.

(and if you want to read the Floating Castle yourself, well, [I'm sure there are avenues online] but you didn't hear that from me)

May 7, 2018 –

page 0

Let it be officially known: I am terrifically excited to read this, and a little nervous, too. Please be good. Please be good. But please don't be SO good that I want to break my wallet trying to get a copy of See No Weevil. [side gerbil note: at the time, one of the only copies of See No Weevil, the third book in the series, available for purchase online was selling for $8k. No, that's not a joke.]

page 6

I miiiight be wrong, but wasn't Merlin's Mirror blank for all the years Alexander was missing, too? I have a feeling I read that somewhere...eh. I should read the actual game manuals sometime.

page 9

It's a touch on the fluffy side. A whole paragraph is dedicated to Alexander getting out of bed. But, let's be clear, that fluff worked really well a few pages ago with the storm, so. Plus, it's from the 90s, so. For some reason fantasy from then seems to be fluffy

page 10

You out of shape magician boy, you. Then again, 4 deep flights of castle steps (probs rough flagstone, rather uneven) is probably hard to climb, so. Fair.

page 14

Graham is such a good king. Like. Really really good.

page 26

Come on, magician prince. You can think of somethiiiing.

page 18

Sir Brian of House Blessed, I presume.

page 40

A: Oh, you stuck Graham's soul in a crystal? Very Ocarina of Time of you. What year did this come out? B: ...why is this actually kind of a good book? Like, from an honest fantasy novel perspective, not just a King's Quest adaptation perspective, it's actually not that bad. Slightly dated with its fluffy descriptions, but I've read plenty of worse fantasy before.

page 47

I didn't expect to enjoy a magician turning into a tree as much as I am, and I love Alexander being all good and diplomatic and not swearing anyone out for Cyril's complete uselessness.

page 49

I wonder how old Alexander is. I don't think it's said. How far past Manannan are we? Has KQ5 happened yet? These are not crucial questions, and yet. I'm curious. Do we know about Crispin? He's probably fractionally more useful than Morowyn. But only fractionally, cos he's still mostly useless.

page 54

Alex (paraphrased): So. All I have to do is sneak into Telgrin's evil doom castle, figure out where he hid a crystal of undetermined size with King Graham's soul in it, steal it (it had better not be car sized), sneak out without getting caught, and get home before his empty body dies, and you can put the soul back in? Cyril (quote): Oh, yes. Almost certainly. Probably. I think. Sounds like a PLAN, guys. Let's go!

page 54

Addendum to the above REALLY AWESOME PLAN. Do it before Telgrin tortures Graham's soul into hideous unrecognizability. Y'know. No pressure or anything.

page 58

I like Cyril. Road trip with the boys!

page 65

What sort of spooky ringwraith nonsense....

page 74

That’s....that’s just lembas bread. Literally just lembas.

page 81

Okay, there’s a thing I don’t like. Little episodic things periodically happen but so clumsily. I think it’s to give Alexander “items” to solve later puzzles, like the games. Direct quotes here: “Good apple,” Cyril said. “Very good.” “Sweet.” “Mmm.” And that’s the end of the exchange. Like. I get it, apples will probably be important later but. That dialogue is less than riveting

May 8, 2018:

page 87

"He’s going to try to ride a kelpie. I’ve never been so excited about a plot development in all my life!

page 108

I very much enjoyed that bit with the ogre, and now we’re hiding in barrels to sneak in. This book is like, nothing but all the best possible Fantasy Highlights.

page 123

Also, I’m fond of this exchange: “You are an evil man.” “So it has been said.” Telgrin shrugged. “Personally I’ve always found that such abstractions do not apply well to the real world. They make matters that are by their very nature complex seem rather too simple, don’t you think?” “Evil,” Alexander repeated."

page 133

Ewwww what is that thing. That’s a horrible beastie.

page 139

Where was he? Yes. Who was this beside him? Yes. Alexander those are not answers to your questions.

page 146

“All I’d have to do is wait until Telgrin is out of the room, step through the mirror, reclaim my father’s soul, and return through the mirror.” Alexander *liked* this plan."

page 162

It's absolutely just The Best Parts of Any Fantasy shoved together in one frantic ball of fury, with maybe three pages at most devoted to each new Fantasy Segment. I'm so into it. It's not a challenge to read by any stretch--I'd say it's middle grade fiction level--but, like, yo. It's crazy fun so who cares. (darn it, book, you broke my theory about where Telgrin had stuffed Graham. Boo. I was enjoying my guess.)

page 163

If my baby boy has broken his arm punching this ringwraith there will be hell to pay from me. I will protect this scarf-wearing lad at all costs. I say, when he's probably my age and knows at least a little magic and how to use a sword and has no problem crawling around dungeons and enemy castles.

page 165

Alexander is SUCH a pile of snark. Yeah, this is going well, he thinks. Now we have *four* knights chasing us.

page 168

“Cyril, I really don’t think—“ “*Enough.* there’s no time for discussion. Prepare yourself.” “No, Cyril, I— Aieeeeeeee!” Boys please

page 170

Are you KIDDING. It took us ages to get INTO the castle. And now we’re stuck outside again. P sure Telgrin is going to raise security after that debacle and kerfuffle you just caused.

page 175

Cuss the ever loving frick out of that tree root. You’ve earned a little less-than-princely reaction after this hell day.

page 181

Graham’s been soul-less for about a week at this point if I’ve added up right. He can wait a bit more, probably.

page 183

THIS IS NOT A HELPFUL SOLUTION TO THE MANY PROBLEMS AT HAND.

page 185

“Did you speak, Sir Frog?” “That’s Prince Frog to you.” Alex, please reign back the sass a little bit. You’re not helping matters.

page 194

We’ve found a princess, convinced her to smooch, he turns human again, and the first thing she says is “but....you’re *beautiful.*” Agreed, yo.

page 204

He’s been walking around with a hat this whole time? I hope it has a feather in it.

page 219

My baby Grahaaaaaam. Sorry about the week of agonizing torture. We came quick as we could. That whole scene with you and Telgrin was so cool and you’re so brilliant and I love your stupid regal face. Also. This exchange; “What happened?” “I’m not exactly sure. All I know is that Telgrin came uncomfortably close to killing me.” Y’know, no big deal.

page 223

"It opened its eyes, blinked, and said, “Hmph. What’s happening? Where am I?” “It’s all right, dear,” the first head said. “Go back to sleep. I am just going to kill this man here.” “Oh, that’s all right, then.”

page 228

I’m amazed Telgrin hasn’t raised hell and panic after losing Graham and his staff. Like. This isn’t a good event for our villain but we everyone seems remarkably calm.

page 231

“Is *everyone* in Daventry this obstinate?” Yes. You messed with the wrong royal family, tbh.

page 234

I love this. I love this book. In ways I cannot express because truly it is not a good book and yet. And YET. The setting is phenomenal, the cast both old and new entertaining, the language occasionally dips beyond melodramatic into actually decently lyrical, the action is relentless, and EVERYONE IS SASSY. Be it Alexander, Graham, this new princess, Telgrin. Everyone.

page 243

“I don’t suppose that you’ll tell me what you were up to.” “I don’t suppose.“ The sass is too strong. It’s blinding. I don’t want this book to end.

page 248

“You know, Alexander, I am not normally given to strong emotions. I do not often make declaration of animosity, for these do not agree with my usually thoughtful and scholarly nature. I must, however, tell you that I hate you.” The sass.

page 249

“The wonderful thing is, I have the power to make it all come true. All of it – the pain, the disfigurement, the death. I tell you, sometimes it’s a truly marvelous thing to be me.” Stars above I’m dying this is so good

page 250

This book is amazing. I am dying.

page 252

No, seriously. I am actually laughing out loud at this point. I love this. “She shall marry me unwillingly, or not at all!“

page 255

“Oh, I see the way of it. It’s blame-everything-on-Telgrin time, is it?” It hurts. My joy hurts too much. I’m crying with joy.

page 260

Cool guys don’t look at explosions.

page 269

This castle even has murder holes. Like. This is actually a good solid piece of fantasy, with accurate castles.

page 273

“I could attempt to fly you down.” All in all, Alexander thought he would rather just jump."

page 293

Graham is such a flirt.

page 297

No there’s no more page to turn!!!!!! Nooooooo I want moreeeee. .....aahHahdhsbdjdhdbuebfjxi.

May 8, 2018 – Finished Reading

five stars out of five stars

#the other liveblogs for the exact same novel will be coming--that's less a cheerful promise and more like an intimidating stare #please understand how heavily i fall in love with telgrin's bad emo villain game in future readings #this is but a taste of how fiercely he grabs my attention #yes i'm mostly doing this because goodreads is fed up with my liveblogging and is overwriting my status updates and i find that offensive #king's quest #kings quest #alexander (king's quest)#rosella (king's quest)#king's quest novels

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sins-slender-mansion · 24 days

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Entry 1: Jeffrey Alan Woods

{Alright, this is where the rewriting stuff comes in. I will be reworking his story and implementing personal and some fanon/canon stuff into his backstory. I will also include his ref sheet I designed and colored, its rough but it works for what it needs to.}

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04/03/2024

After analyzing this particular boy I can come to the conclusion that yes, indeed, he is a crucial part of this project. One of the very first, right after Masky and Hoodie at least. AVOID AT ALL COSTS. If you see him, you're already dead.

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Jeff Woods Status: Alive Age: 22 Species: Human Danger: Extremely dangerous, do NOT approach Appearance: A lanky, lean young man with very pale, pasty skin and a plethora of scars all over his face, neck, chest, and hands. He has long, unkept black hair and fringy bangs that protect his very sensitive icy blue eyes from the sun or mood while on missions. The most striking part of his entire appearance is the permanent smile cut into his cheeks, self inflicted, that refuse to heal. Often seen in just a hoodie and jeans and whatever running shoes he could find.

The boy is deranged, to say the least. A killer with a headstart, even before Tim and Brian began killing. It all began at the age of 14, when he was bullied so severely in his last year of middle school. Bullies taunted and teased him for his relationship with his parents, which was rocky due to an unfortunate ongoing divorce process. He and his brother were severely abused due to this process by both parents and as a result, Jeff would find himself with bruises and marks when he went to school. Kids noticed, and kids are cruel. At the age of 15, Jeff was attacked by three of his bullies at a school event, an event he had attended in order to escape his home life. The attackers doused him in bleach and set the boy on fire in one of the bathrooms at the football field snack stand. He was left there overnight, burned, scarred, and bleeding. His eyes were now extremely damaged and as a result his eyesight is never very reliable. he was unable to cry due to his burn injuries, and could only sniffle and sob without tears. Returning home that night, the boy was chastised and further humiliated and attacked by his parents, who told him he would be better off dead. In the heat of it all, his parents screamed at having to raise such an ugly boy'. His brother, 11 at the time, was horrified and tried to defend him. The final straw was when his mother handed him a kitchen knife, and told him to 'finish himself off in the bathroom'. Jeff didn't know what to do. The boy was overloaded with emotions, and ran to the upstairs bathroom. His brother followed. In the bathroom, Jeff would have his first suicide attempt. It was only an attempt. Because he had another idea. Staring in the mirror, mourning who he was the night before, he brought the knife to his face and cut into his cheeks, to form his permanent smile. No longer would he be ugly. Now, he was beautiful, like his parents wanted. His brother was mortified, and ended up being Jeff's first 'victim'. In a rush of adrenaline, he 'killed' his brother by stabbing him, three times. Unknown to him, his brother lived while he continued his rampage. Running downstairs, Jeff surprised his parents, who were equally horrified. In their shock, Jeff was able to kill them. their screams were forever etched into his mind. His mother tried to fight back, but failed, and his father tripped trying to run out of the house. Both were swiftly dealt with. Alone in his house, Jeff felt.. Sick. then excited. He was free! Free from it all! And yet he cried. he couldn't help the screams that came from inside. He was devastated. Destroyed. And yet he was free. he was a whole new person. Unfortunately for him, his neighbors heard the screams and within moments he could hear distant sirens. In his panic, he tried to burn down the house, setting the couch on fire with a lighter. he grabbed his school jacket and escaped through the backdoor, where he ran and ran and ran until his legs gave out. Now, in the middle of the forest, collapsed to the ground, he as alone. Alone with that searing pain from everything coursing through his body. At the age of 15, he had become a monster.

Slenderman found him shortly after his collapse in the woods. He offered a helping hand to the 15 year old murderer. He promised protection, if Jeff vowed to work for him. At the time, Jeff was just trying to go as far away as possible. So he took the offer, and was swiftly brought to, at the time, the manor in Missouri. It wouldn't be until Jeff was 18 that the Project was moved up north.

Jeff now lives in the manor as a permanent resident, forever bound due to his contract with Slenderman. At the time, he was not a proxy, but after discovering his brother was still alive, he vowed to server Slenderman until he eventually dies in exchange for protection of Liu and Nina. His freedom, forever gone, was exchanged for the safety of his most valued people. The last selfless act he every will do.

Now he is restless and rowdy and loud. At only 22 years old he has one of the highest body counts of all the residents. He is quick, quiet, but sloppy and an extremely important asset to the Project. As one can imagine, he is irritable, cocky, and overall a little brat who needs to be humbled. Due to his status though, no one dares even touch him. DO NOT INTERACT, just RUN. or better yet... Go to sleep.

"Hold still now, I'm gonna make you beautiful.."

#jeff the killer #jeffrey alan woods #jeff wood #slenderman #slenderverse #slendermansion #creepypasta #creepypasta fanfiction #creepypasta rewrite #sinshine's slenderman project

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