#I need to get this out of my head so I can actually focus on what I want to focus on!!

[talaok]

Enjoy the view

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: You surprise your husband with a new cooking attire, and he's more than happy to show you how much he appreciates it- even if he has an audience… especially when he knows how much you like it.

Warnings: smut| exhibitionism, voyeurism, cooking practically naked, a lil tiny bit of free use, oral sex (f receiving), butt-play, and unprotected p in v sex.

"I'm home!" 

His greeting echoed through the house, and while usually it would be followed by your two little demons running down the stairs to attack their daddy, today, the only response was yours.

"Hi baby, I'm in the kitchen!" 

You heard some shuffling as he made himself comfortable before his footsteps started in your direction- only to stop dead in his tracks at the sight before him.

"Babydoll, where are the k-"

You turned around just a little bit, your neck twisting so your gaze could see his face as it settled on your ass.

On your bare ass and bare legs and bare torso and- oh god- on the small apron only covering the lower front of you.

What the actual fuck was his life

And how the actual fuck did he ever get so lucky

He was on you in a split second, his mouth as ravenous as his hands.

You let a soft giggle past your lips as he left hot, wet kisses down your neck, his hands kneading the soft skin of your ass as he pressed his hard cock against it.

"the kids are at my mom's" you murmured, as if the man behind you wasn't worshipping your body

"yeah?" he groaned, his hands on your boobs now

"I'm making us dinner" you explained, resuming cutting the fruit on the cutting board while sticking your ass out even more for him.

"such a good girl, thank you darlin'" he murmured against your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

"Can I have my appetizer while you finish up?"

You pretend to ponder the idea, biting your lip 

"Tommy's still outside trying to fix the grill, baby"

Of course

Lucky didn't even begin to cover it.

He could just close the curtains facing your backyard, he knew it, just as you did.

But that's not what you wanted

Oh no

His girl liked to be watched

"then we'll just have to hope he doesn't fix it in time, won't we?"

He watched your eyes flutter shut as the words sunk in, and you could only offer a soft "yes" as you presented him the slightest nod

"attagirl" he murmured, kissing you right below your ear "Now don't mind me, keep on cookin'"

You nodded again, humming softly, and he kissed every inch of skin he encountered as he dropped to his knees.

Cold air hit your core as he grabbed each of your asscheeks in his hands and spread them apart like the animal that he was.

You let out a little whine as he admired the work of art before him, but just when you started cutting the fruit before you once again, he'd dived in.

His whole face was deep into your core, his tongue not wasting a second before tasting your sweet juices, wishing he could drink them every day instead of water.

His hands were gripping your waist, holding you in place, even as your body begged to grind against him.

"fuck" you moaned, biting your lips as your left hand gripped the counter.

"tastes like heaven babydoll" Joel groaned, the vibrations of his voice sending shocks of pleasure straight to your core.

You could only continue emanating needy little whimpers as he feasted on your cunt, and then, finding more strength in you than you even knew to even possess, you resumed cutting the strawberry before you.

"Joel" you moaned louder now, his tongue plunging into your pussy and lapping at your walls as your head fell to your chest "baby-god"

And just when you were breathing heavily, feeling your core flutter at the pleasure, his mouth trailed up, his focus shifting to your other hole.

The knife fell to the cutting board and your body slumped forward at the feeling, but while your moans were only getting louder, he was only getting hungrier.

And as much as he loved eating your ass, he needed to hear those pretty sounds you made while coming on his face, so of course...

Your whole body felt a shock of electricity as Joel finally, finally, started sucking on your clit.

"Fuck-fuck- baby- just like tha-oh!"

You came so hard you thought you were gonna pass out, but luckily, he was there to hold you through it, not wasting a drop of what you gave him.

"my perfect fukin' girl" he murmured lovingly, kissing your cunt one last, overstimulating time before he was once again standing pressed against your back.

"enjoyed yourself?" he asked, biting your earlobe as you tried to will your breathing to get back to normal

"yes" you smiled, forgetting all about your task as you turned around towards him, clatching his lips into a deep, searing kiss.

"yeah?" he asked again, a smug, sexy grin on him as he let you taste yourself on his tongue once again 

"mh-mh"

"I think someone else did too" 

And when his gaze shifted to his left, you knew.

You didn't need to look to know what he was looking at, but you did nonetheless.

Tommy was standing on the other side of the glass door, his eyes set onto you like a starving predator, and you could only gasp.

"Joel-"

"shh" he hummed, kissing the side of your lips "It's ok," he said, while your eyes remained on his brother "You wanna give Tommy a show babydoll?"

But of course, he knew the answer already,

you've done this before,

hell, before Tommy had gotten himself a wife too, you'd even let him join once or twice.

"I mean..." you whimpered, as Joel undid his zipper while kissing your neck "He's fixed the grill for us after all"

He chuckled, finishing your thought for you

"he deserves a reward, doesn't he?"

"I think he does" You nodded, looking up at him with pleading eyes, as if there was a chance he'd ever not do something you wanted.

"You're so kind" he murmured, picking you up just to set you on a free spot on the counter "Such a perfect selfless wife that I've got, mh?"

You could only grin, giggling softly as he kissed you again.

"let's show Tommy how beautiful you look while coming on my cock then shall we?"

"yes please"

Your answer was breathless, desperate, just as the moan you let out once he finally guided his length inside of you, taking his time to let you adjust...and so he could enjoy the faces you made all for him... and his brother.

"good girl" he groaned, easing himself out of you almost completely just to thrust back in at full force, making you cry out and throw your head back.

"Oh f-fuck"

"I know" he cooed, only going faster, deeper, as you arched your back, your nails clawing at his back "I know baby, you take me so well" he murmured, against your mouth "So deep inside this perfect fucking pussy"

"Joel!" you gasped, his dick hitting your sweet spot over and over together with his dirty words.

And when you glanced to your right, when you saw Joel's brother, the sibling to the man who was currently railing you on your kitchen counter palming his hard cock from the confines of his jeans, his eyes glued on you... it was like a volcano of pleasure exploded,

a dirty, twisted, dark kind of pleasure

"yeah look at Tommy" Joel groaned "Poor guy's probably so jealous he's not the one balls deep into ya baby" One of his hands moved from your waist to pinch your nipple, making you cry out just to prove a point "he's probably wishin' he could come here and fuck you himself baby" he continued, his thrusts getting harsher, faster "but he's not gonna" he growled "and ya know why?" he asked,

"'cause I'm yours" you moaned, looking him into his lusty eyes

He moaned too this time, he never could help himself when you said those three magic words

'cause fuck him, but he still sometimes struggled to believe you were his himself

"goodamn right you are" he smirked, crashing your lips with his, as the room filled with the filthy sound of your wet heat accommodating his movements.

"Show him sugar" he urged "Show Tommy who you belong to" he murmured, watching as you turned your head to his brother again

"show him who's the only man who's ever gonna touch you baby girl," he said "and how fuckin' good you look creamin' my cock"

And so you did what he said, you looked his brother right in the eyes as you screamed Joel's name at the top of your lungs, wave after wave after wave of pleasure coursing through you as you came hard around Joel's cock.

"Fuckin' perfect-" Joel purred, kissing your chin as his orgasm approached "fuckin' mine"

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller fluff #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #fluff #joel miller imagine #joel miller blurb #joel miller angst #fanfiction #the last of us #tlou #the last of us hbo #tlou hbo #joel miller x f!reader

[vampiresbloodx]

Innocent eyes.

Summary: In a city where crime rate is high, murders, incidents and accidents, unexplained deaths start to happen as they all somehow have a connection, your boss signed you on to this case, a detective, and along the way you meet interesting people that may somehow be connected, or not.

They could be on your side or worse.

Pairings: Wanda maximoff x detective!reader(focus), Natasha Romanoff x detective!reader (more platonic)

word count: 1047

warnings for this chapter/tease: murder mentions.

a/n; welcome to my new series I been working on!, more chapters will come eventually, don't know when, but I'm excited for this one. This is just a teaser, I'm happy to hear feedback!.

Low music played from the car’s radio where you sat during your lunch break, shuffling through a pile of files you were supposed to finish yesterday, but that’s not what you’re looking for. 

“Ah, there you are,” you muttered, smiling to yourself as you reached for it. 

Much to your annoyance, you’re distracted by a knock on your window, turning your head, you try your best not to roll your eyes at the person staring back. 

“I know you can hear me, roll down the window” a woman’s voice demanded with authority, it wasn’t a surprise it was your boss bothering you on your break. 

As you did what she asked, she leaned forward. 

“Jesus christ its a mess in here” she commented, making you sigh, you can’t really hide it now. 

“You know what time it is?” you said, tilting your head to the side. 

“1:24 PM” she answered nonchalantly. 

“I started my lunch break at 1:15, I still have a few minutes, leave me alone” you groaned, others would frown at the way you’re talking to someone superior than you but they also knew you’re closeish friendship with her, and that neither of you gave a shit. 

She smiled. 

“Got a new case for you, meet me in my office in five.” 

“Couldn’t have texted me that?” you asked, watching as she turns on her heel to walk away with a proud smirk. 

“Nope.” 

Well, you knew the rumbling in your stomach meant you didn’t exactly eat yet, did you even bring your actual meal you were gonna eat today? No, you never did, coffee will do. 

Sighing, you stepped out of your car, turning off the engine as you grabbed your bag, keys, everything you needed and oh yeah, coffee. 

-

The building that was built in late 1870 and was founded by Ivan Romanov, who gave over his title as head chef of New York romanov agency, yeah, he basically named it after himself, Natasha, his daughter, who he handed it over to, always said he was a bit egotistical. 

But then she never denied her being egotistical either. 

As you walked back into the agency, several other workers, officers were there, scrambling at last minute deadlines or starting new ones. Most look like they haven’t even left their last shift and stayed overnight. 

Not like you could judge. 

Natasha romanoff, your boss, unfortunately, sat waiting at her office as she shooed away everyone else trying to get her attention but happily smiled at you when you finally entered after she had cussed out another employee for not doing his job. 

“What a bright, happy day it is to be working for you, Ms. Romanov” you sarcastically say, going to stand in front of her desk, she grinned at you. 

“Ah my favorite detective, remember when you weren’t such a smart ass but a nice rookie?” she said. 

“Nope, those days are long gone, ma’am.” 

“Don’t you dare call me that, rookie” she says with annoyance, you couldn’t help but grin as you know she hates being called that. 

Miss, ms, anything is fine except for ma’am. 

Because her father used to address every goddamn women as ma’am so it pissed her off. 

And so she tries to use rookie against you like it still bothers you. 

“No but I did bring you here for a serious matter” natasha said, standing back up as she grabbed her coffee cup, taking a sip. “We have a new case, and I want you to investigate it.” 

“Well that is kind of my job” you couldn’t help but joke. 

“Cut the crap, this one isn’t to mess around” natasha sternly said as she took a couple of steps towards you. It must be serious this time for her not to crack a joke every five minutes, you frowned, straightened up, knowing she hates bad posture. “Every other agency has turned this one down or couldn’t be bothered to touch it, it’s… new, different. I’m thinking it’ll get us big in the news, everywhere if I have you solve it.” 

“Why me exactly?” you asked, she raised an eyebrow at you. 

“Is that really a question you need answering?.” 

You shrugged. 

“Fine, I get why, but still, why is this case any different than to our other ones we always get?” you said. 

“Finally a goodish question” she smiled, looking pleased as she turned around to face the window that overlooked the city. It was stunning, really, of course she had the best view in the entire building. “You know you’re one of my best, and I mean that when I say that. You know I don’t say things lightly to anyone, I want you because we need you, this case, it doesn’t fit right with me, why would all the other agencies turn away this case if it could get them in the papers? Hell, I even know some old bastards in other offices that would kill for this kind of cover.” 

You stood there, letting her ramble, unsure of where exactly this is going but you have an idea. 

Natasha has taken after her father to be the very best in the world, not just new york city, but everywhere she wants her name known, and to not be fucked around with. 

You let her continue. 

“So, please, take this opportunity, to catch whoever did these murders, people are calling it accidents, but how is it an accident when they’ve all been found dead the same exact way? And in similar locations? God, you’d think people nowadays would know a thing about true crime shit. Fucking hell.” 

You smiled and she noticed that, her lips turning into a grin. 

“Come on, you can get a shit ton of money for this, and well, you’ll get a bonus if you actually catch the guy before the police put him behind bars” she tempts you, though she already knows what you’re gonna say, and so do you. 

“Funny you mentioned this case as I was already working on it” you say. 

“Good for you there’s a new crime scene that just opened up, you’ve got permission to go investigate, detective.” 

You nod, waving her goodbye as you exit her office, guess your lunch break is over.

#wanda x reader #wanda x you #wanda x y/n #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff imagine #stuff i wrote

[seenoversundown]

For Death Or Glory : Chapter Two

Warnings: uncomfortable tension, drinking/alcohol, brief mentions of depression (if you read the context clues it’s there), anxious themes, the boys are yet again being ridiculous.

Word Count: 3.8k

Summary: Charlotte’s first encounter with Jake is none other than memorable. Battling her internal monologue is how she lives her daily life, so this situation is only letting those voices run wild.

Author’s Note: Early chapter two because I am so so so excited for you to meet Charlotte! She’s been one of the most fun characters to create because she has such a specific personality. I hope you love her xoxo see you on Thursday 🥰

Looks That Kill - Motley Crue “If you don’t get her name, you might not make it back.”

“In 300 feet, turn right,” plays through my car’s speakers as I slowly drive through these cramped streets. All the buildings are covered in red brick, some with vines attached; it’s a quaint little area in the city. 

I pull into a parking space and check the maps on my phone again; okay, it’s only a street over; I can just walk that. Grabbing my bag and the folder I’ve been sent with, I step out and promptly lock my doors. Looking at my reflection in my windows, I gently adjust my pants and ensure my shirt is still tucked in. Leaning in and reapplying my dark red lip, I need to make sure I look professional. 

It’s mid-afternoon and fairly quiet, so all I can hear is the click of my shoes as I walk towards the bar. Well, Tavern, rather.  The sign jutting out from the building, the ocean peaking out just behind it, that’s a beautiful accident, now isn’t it? As I approach, I notice the cobblestone street directly across from it. Which must be a nightmare at 1:30 am. 

I took a deep breath before grabbing the door and mentally prepared for this conversation. Or so I thought. The door chime rings loudly, given only ten people are in the bar. The red glow is intense even though it’s still light out. I can’t help but notice the immense amount of pirate memorabilia on the walls and the cute vintage jukebox in the corner. 

As I take it in, I hear the chatter from the patrons sitting at the bar slowly increase in volume. I look over to see a petite man with a curly head of hair laughing loudly at the girl he’s sat next to. Quickly startled out of my focus by a tall, slender gentleman. 

“You look lost,” he quietly says, a completely different vibe from the rest of this place, taking me aback, “Do you need something?” 

“Uh, yes, actually,” I stammer a bit, not expecting someone to come out of thin air like that, “I’m actually here because some paperwork wasn’t completed when the bar opened.” 

“Oh!” his eyes go wide, “he will be the one you want to talk to, darling,” he says rather quickly, pointing towards the bar.

“Could I speak with Mr. Kiszka?” I ask, attempting to sound as confident as I can.

Suddenly, the two sat at the bar looked over to me, with the one behind the bar turning to me before, in unison, they asked, “Which one?” The long-haired ‘girl’ turned to reveal that I was, in fact, very wrong. How many long-haired men are in this bar right now? Jesus Christ. 

I looked into the folder, and seeing his name at the top, I thought, “Um, Jacob Kiszka, I’m sorry.” 

They both point at the one behind the bar, with his hair tied into a low bun, shirt halfway open, and towel tossed over his shoulder. He’s definitely not who I expected to run into here; I figured I would be dealing with a larger, burly sailor-type man who just quit working at the shipyard. 

“What do you need from me, dear?” his voice soft and raspy, which continued to throw me off. 

“Well, I’m sorry to do this to you randomly, Mr. Kiszka,” I start, with him quickly interjecting. 

“Mr. Kiszka is our father. Please call me Jake,” the three of them giggling at his comment. Are they all brothers? I mean, I guess they do look similar the harder I look at them.. Unimportant.

He extends his hand over the bar, and I quickly shift everything into the other arm to meet his. 

“Charlotte Rhodes,” I tell him, trying to focus on my grasp being firm on his hand. 

“Well, Jacob, unfortunately, you did not finish filling out some of this paperwork when you opened the bar officially,” I tell him, watching his smile falter a bit. This is the part I hate.

“I’ve been sent here to tell you what is needed from you. It shouldn’t take too long to get situated.” I start flipping through the paperwork, looking for the pages that he needs. 

“Jesus, Jake,” the long-haired one pipes up, “Paperwork’s the only thing fucking you right now, huh?” followed by the most accurate description of a “ha ha ha” laugh I’ve ever heard. 

“SAM,” the petite curly-headed one interjects, his eyes widening. “Not the time.” 

The one who I’ve now learned is Sam mutters, “Tough crowd,” under his breath. 

I inhale deeply, letting out a “Riiiiiiight” on the exhale. I grab a blank piece of paper from the folder, set it in front of myself, and scribble down little things to not forget. ‘Long hair, facial hair, taller = Sam.’ 

As I’m informing him, I watch a young woman waltz behind the bar, starting to wipe down wine glasses and put them away. She is minding her own business, but nonetheless, she’s behind the bar. 

“Um,” I pause, “Who is that?” I quietly ask, pointing at her subtly. 

I swear I watch the color in his face drain out like a cartoon. Oh no, he hasn’t filed paperwork for her either. Well, that’s karma for you! 

“I just hired her,” the subtle panic lacing his voice, “Uh, I just haven’t had time to, um,” he keeps stumbling over his words. One of his hands finds its place on the back of his neck, giving away that he’s getting overwhelmed. 

I don’t know what comes over me; I open the folder, pull out a packet of stapled paperwork, and flip through it. 

“According to your payroll, Joshua M Kiszka and Daniel R Wagner are the only two employees currently.” Noticing the handful of hired and terminated employees below them and choosing not to bring them up. 

“Only I call-” Sam speaks up, locking eyes with the girl behind the bar, “WE call him Daniel.” 

“Unfortunately, ‘Daniel’ is the only name I was provided,” I know my confusion is apparent on my face. What is going on here? He’s defending Daniel’s name but also grouping this girl into it.. Are they..? 

“The rest of us call him Dan or Danny,” the small one informs me. 

‘Don’t use Daniel, or Sam gets emotional.’ 

“I really don’t mind either way-” Daniel starts to speak, quickly interrupted by Sam. 

“No! That’s my- our name for you!” 

I feel a slight breeze as a slender, brown-haired girl swiftly passes me, walking directly up to Sam and grabbing his arm. 

She looked at me, her face twisted into an uncomfortable expression, and said, “I’m SO sorry about him.” Then she glanced at Jacob and said, “Good luck, Jake.” 

She tugged on his arm, and he stood up. Much taller than I was expecting, he grabbed his drink before walking away. 

“But Bird, she called him Daniel!”

“I’m very sorry, but can’t you see the professional pants she’s wearing? She’s IMPORTANT, Sam!”

“Why would I look at her pants?” 

“Just leave them alone!”

I quickly shake my head, trying to remember where I was in the original conversation before things got… weird. 

“Anyway,” I start, “You only have the two boys and yourself as employees, so if she is also bartending, you need to get her paperwork filled out. Otherwise, then you’re also violating payroll.” I’m watching him process everything I’ve told him, his eyes finally looking to meet mine. I can see the anxiety on his face. His eyes look so sad. 

“Um,” I turn to the small man beside me, “Do you mind giving us a minute?” 

“Absolutely. I’m Josh, by the way,” he reaches his hand out to shake mine, 

“Nice to meet you, Josh. I’m Charlotte.” I firmly shake his hand before he prances away to the booth where Sam, the girl who stole him away, and someone else is sitting. 

“I’m sorry about them, or well, all of this?” Jacob finally said, “I definitely didn’t realize that I hadn’t finished things. I double-checked even before submitting it. I really had no idea. This is the first business I’ve ever run, and I’m doing it alone, basically.” His voice is still riddled with panic, and it sounds like he’s trying to make sense of it in his head. 

I pull out a barstool, set the folder on the bar, and make myself comfortable in the seat. Trying to make myself seem less intimidating has always been funny to me, being a more petite girl. 

“I know you’re working, but the least I can do is offer you a drink,” he says, grabbing a glass from behind him and gently shaking it to get my approval.

“Well, thank you. Whatever is easiest for you, I appreciate it.” I start looking through the folder for what I need, realizing I don’t have everything. I can just email it to him. He seems nervous. I’m sure he’ll panic to get everything in order.  

“Wine? Beer?” 

“Actually, if you have bourbon, that would be fine.” 

I watch his eyes go from sad to almost excited. His emotions are evident on his face right now. The corners of his mouth slowly turn into a little smirk, letting out a laugh of disbelief. 

“That’s my kinda girl,” he says, turning around to grab a bottle from the shelf. 

Is it warm in here? Did he just- You’re working, Charlotte, get a grip. 

He sets the glass of amber liquid in front of me, still smiling to himself. 

“Okay, so is there anything else I messed up?” 

“Not to make things worse, but is she certified?” 

His eyes shut as his head drops back; I see his chest rise slowly and then fall, “Oh, I’m sure she isn’t.” 

“Okay, um, so that’s not as important. Let’s just get you situated with this stuff first?” Why are we being nicer to him? He’s clearly behind on everything; just let him have it.  

“Yeah, whatever I need to do. I really am sorry I didn’t do this before.” 

I’m literally ruining this guy’s entire day. Which is his fault. Well, yes, but he feels so bad about it. I’m more used to having owners storm off, not talk to me, or the opposite, yell directly into my face about it. Also, to be fair, I’m not used to bar owners being close in age to me. I’m definitely more accustomed to older gentlemen who would rather risk tax evasion than get their employees on an actual payroll. 

“It’s okay, Jacob,” I look back at him, setting the papers on the bar for him, “Honestly.” 

His eyes look back and forth between mine like he’s trying to decide if I’m lying. The only thing I’d be lying about is that he is kind of cute. Charlotte, you’re here to do your job and leave. Yes,  but he’s been very receptive and isn’t trying to degrade me for doing my job. Plus, his smile is pretty. 

‘Nice smile’

I take a sip of my drink and then surprise myself. 

“How about I leave all of this with you and come back in a few days to grab it? I’ll be in town for a little bit, and I don’t want to overwhelm you more than I already have.” Okay Charlotte? 

“That would be perfect,” he breathes a sigh of relief, “I can absolutely get everything sorted out. Thank you so much.” His voice is back to a more stable sound, and the anxiety seemingly has subsided. 

The door chime sounds off, causing him to glance over as a handful of people come in. I grab my phone from my bag, tapping the screen to reveal 6:07 p.m. Ah, everybody’s out of work. I watch as he looks back at the girl behind the bar, back at the customers, and then at me. 

“Mel,” he addresses her. Can you just find out what they want, and I’ll take care of it?” She salutes as she drops what she’s doing, mumbling, “Yes, Sir,” as she passes him. His eyes roll slightly at the comment, turning back to me. “I can have Josh clock in if you need me still.”

“No, you’re fine. I’m just going to finish doing some work, and this,” I tap my glass lightly, letting a small smile slip through. His face softens a bit at the gesture. 

“Okay, well, please just stop me if you need anything.” 

I scroll through my emails, continuing to make little notes for myself. This bar has been interesting so far, but, the longer I sit here, the more things continue to happen. I’ve just been trying to take in everything while I’m here. Places like this are few and far between. 

I look up from my phone to see Jacob fiddling with his hair, pulling the hair tie out slowly and sliding it down onto his wrist. He ran his fingers through his ends to loosely comb it out and then wrapped it back up into another little bun. His hair is so long? Also, it’s fun to watch a man pull out his baby hair. I didn’t think they knew about that.  

He flips the sink on, rolling his sleeves up slightly so they sit just above his elbows. I don’t mean to stare at him while he’s doing menial things, but something is holding my attention while he washes his hands that I can’t figure out.  

I try to focus on anything else, turning to see Josh walking up to Daniel with his hand held out. I can’t make out what they’re saying to each other, but Daniel grabs his hand and kisses his knuckles quickly, releasing Josh back into the chaos of the bar. Wait- so.. Who is actually with Daniel? 

A notification pops up on my phone, and it’s an email from my boss. 

‘Charlotte,

Again, I’m sorry to hear that you’re going to be out for a few days. How much time off do you want again? I know we just talked about this. Anyway, I hope everything goes smoothly with the Caravel Tavern. It’s a new business, so it would be a shame to see it go under quickly. I know you’ll give them hell, though.’

It’s a bit disheartening to see that the entire reason I was even coming to Portland has been dismissed, but I guess that’s just business for you. Not that I was necessarily excited to be here for a few days and not work, but at least be mindful of the reason. I offered to stop by to take care of this since I would be in the area, and maybe that should have been my sign that he didn’t care about whatever else I would be doing. 

“You okay over there, Red?” his small, raspy voice somehow cut through the chatter of the bar. I look up to find him opening a beer for someone and setting it on their napkin, his smile fully displayed for them. 

Taking a little sip of my drink, slowly becoming water with a hint of bourbon, I nod once. 

“You really run a tight ship around here, huh?” I say as he walks back over to me. Something in that moment shifts; I don’t know what it is. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, like the subtle compliment caught him truly off guard. I can’t read what emotion he’s feeling, but his eyes are conveying something different. 

“Uh, I do my best,” he finally choked out, “I probably drive them all crazy, but we’re still afloat, so something must be working.” 

Mel laughs as she’s drying glasses behind him, “You’re definitely something.” 

He slowly blinks with a tight smile at her comment, with a quick shake of his head. I lift my glass to my lips, taking the last bearable sip before it’s quite literally just water. 

“I think I’m going to head out,” I tell him, gathering the paperwork he needs, “I’ll leave this with you; if you can please try to get it done in the next couple of days, that would be great.” He just nods at my request. 

“Also, I didn’t have the physical paperwork on me to get Mel on your payroll but I can email the forms to you if that works?” 

“I will do whatever is easiest.” 

I’m still not used to someone cooperating as easily as he has. I came in too prepared for him to be an ass about everything, on top of surprising him with more issues. I’m grateful he isn’t making this more complicated than it needs to be. 

I fold the blank sheet, hide my notes about his brothers, and slide them to him with a pen.

“Here, can you write down your email and phone number for me?” I ask quietly.

“Trying to get my number already? We just met.” He smirks at me as I cringe internally. 

I just stare at him for a second too long, not able to come up with any sort of response to that. 

The silence is deafening between us as his cheeks flush, his eyes darting down to the paper. He swiftly grabs the pen, scribbling down his information for me, writing his name above them, ‘Jake,’ as if I would forget. 

He clears his throat before speaking, “Well, I need to, uh, go work on this, so,” his embarrassment slowly taking him over, “Drive safe, and I will see you, um, soon. Sorry about.. Everything today?” 

I choke back the laugh threatening to escape me, not wanting to make him more uncomfortable than he’s made himself. But it was kind of cute watching him shove his foot in his mouth.  I tuck the paper into my bag, grabbing my things as I stand up from the barstool. 

“Oh,” I speak up, “how much do I owe you?” tapping the rim of my glass. 

He leans over, grabbing the glass with a slight smile on his flushed face, “I think you earned it; it’s on me.” 

“Well, thank you. Have a good night, Jacob. I’ll see you in a few days.” 

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

I hadn’t been to our lake house in a while—years, probably. We used to spend weeks at a time visiting the lake and spending time on the water. As I got older, so did my parents, we slowly stopped frequenting, but they would never get rid of it. I’ve spent countless hours convincing them to rent it out as an Airbnb, but they refuse. 

The roads are a little daunting at night, with so many sharp turns and practically no street lights. I suppose I should be used to living so far north, but I know that area well. I’ve never really had to drive myself around here; I was always in the backseat for this drive.

Pulling into our dirt driveway, there she is. Our sweet little house absolutely has seen better days, but that’s okay. It feels enough like home to make the next couple of days bearable.  I had been dreading this week, but even seeing the outside, in the dark no less, has made me feel a bit of relief. 

Walking through the mud room and into our kitchen, it smells like a basement. It’s apparent that none of us have visited in a while, and to be fair, it’s October at this point. It’s probably for the best that I’m here for a few days so I can clean things up, and then maybe, next time my parents come, it won’t seem as… musty. It will also distract me from my own brain. 

We do tend to get the better of you. Speak for yourself.

I toss my bags onto my old bed, unable to remember the last time I slept there. I finally sit, letting out a long sigh. Closing my eyes, I let my head drop back, letting the muscles stretch for a moment.  The sadness building up and threatening to escape, I grab my laptop from my bag; I need to be doing something. 

‘Hi,

Sorry for the late response. I stopped by the bar today. They had a lot going on, so I left the paperwork with him to fill out, and I’ll stop back there to grab it before coming home. He seemed eager to get everything done; he’s much younger than I think either of us anticipated. 

As for days off, I think at least this week, and then I’ll be good to go.’ 

I’m not particularly good at giving myself days off, but I love my job, so why would I not work? Also, I rarely have to really connect with people, so it makes it easier to just zone out and get my work done. It’s not often that we have to hound people for their paperwork, and even when we do, it’s usually for the new employees to do. It builds character, I guess. Having grown adults scream at you definitely gives you thick skin. 

Reaching down, I pull the folded paper out of my bag. Typing his email into the To: bar, attaching the documents he needs. 

‘Thank you for being so flexible about this. - Charlotte’ 

I added a subject line, ‘New Employee Payroll Forms’, and double-checked that everything was there. I hit send. Perfect, everything is done. 

Charlotte: Hi Jacob, sorry for the late text- I just sent over those forms to your email. If you can get those done ASAP, that would be wonderful. If you need assistance with anything, feel free to reach out. - Charlotte. 

Feel free to reach out? Why are you offering the opportunity for him to text you? It’s literally the least we can do; you saw how overwhelmed he was. 

I can see the way his face drained of color when I clocked Mel behind the bar. The way he stumbled over his words, his hand finding comfort on the back of his neck, probably to prevent from fidgeting endlessly. He definitely didn’t realize he had messed up. I don’t know why you feel bad, this happens to you all the time. 

I set my laptop on my nightstand and plug in my phone. Everything is done, so now I can just do what I need to. I take the time to make something small to eat and shower, killing just enough time and relaxing enough to where I’m about to sleep. I crawl into bed, pulling my hair up into a bun on the top of my head before snuggling in. 

I reach out to grab my phone and set an alarm for tomorrow morning. I opened my messages just to make sure I hadn’t missed anything or forgotten to reply to anybody. 

Unknown Number: oh don’t apologize. Thank you for being patient with me, i really appreciate it.

I tap on the number at the top, saving the number, ‘Jacob’. I lock my phone, placing it back on my nightstand. Staring up at the ceiling, I attempt to fall asleep. Replaying thoughts of her in my mind, I feel a slight prick in my eyes. Finally, I succumbed to the feeling. I’m not ready.  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Chapter One

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[rosedere]

Murder Mountain

(Yandere Azul Ashengrotto x Afab Reader)

Modern AU

TW: Dark Content, Attempted Murder, Harassment, Non Con/Rape.

Part 1, Part 2 (You are here), Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

Cross Posted on AO3.

Part 2 Summary:

Azul and you take a trip into the mountains; Little do you know Azul has his own agenda.

-

Can you take me to northern California

Where the grass is greener

Can you make me dissappear

Be my puppeteer

Don't you leave again

-

You really didn't expect to get this far

literally and figuratively.

Arriving at the gated estate full of pine trees and golden fences, on the tall menacing gate before you was a entry buzzer, roughly, you pressed the button, a ring resounding from the buzzer on the outside post was heard echoing around the woods.

You weren't expecting to immediately be let in, the dark metallic gates opening before you effortlessly.

Pausing you looked around cautiously; no way your boss just let you in.

But you couldnt back down now was what encouraged you to walk up the winding driveway leading past the numerous gardens and waterways connecting to a massive renaissance fountain in the center of the estate further back.

Keeping your eyes peeled for any witnesses it seemed his sprawling estate was deserted.

Only after a few more minutes of walking, you made it to the illustserous main house.

You knew him being a multi billionaire would entail a huge house, but not to the extent of having a house as big as a small town.

At the doorstep, you observed his three doorway poarch the doors were made of a see-through glass with frosted tint coating said doors. Being able to see the interior of his spiraling house with dark wooden floors and almost minimal walls but nothing more without walking up to the door to look in.

Taking note of the garage next to the doorway along with a ten foot tall ornamental tree, you notived the massive garage was open with a several expensive cars sitting there,ominously, lined up in order of price most likely.

Noting Azul was no where to be found you approached the door in the middle looking for, something, to announce your presence.

Finally you spotted a doorbell, quickly you went to where the smart doorbell was.

you had your finger extended but before you could ring he doorbell, a hand was firmly pressed onto your shoulder.

With a hard swallow, you retracted your hand.

Turning, you were met with your enemy.

Azul Ashengrotto.

"No need for that, I'm already ready to depart"

You only looked stoic at him.

"You said you'd be here 30 minutes ago," He replied in his usual business tone.

Azul was wearing an expensive camping long-sleeve shirt you'd seen at designer sports stores, almost as much as your rent was if you had to make a guess was what he wore on his body along with matching hiking khakis.

It almost seemed like he was dressed up for someone.

Other than that, he didn't look noticeably different from how you'd normally see him in the office.

Including his scowl that was practically oozing discomfort.

Focus (name).

"just traffic, the walk up from where I parked didnt help either," you shrugged hoping your answer would appease him.

Not like you cared for his response, though.

waiting for a snide remark about your outfit or about your flimsy excuse it was silent for way too long.

Looking over at your boss instead of seeing him disgusted you watched him look you up from head to toe.

"it seems you decided to dress more feminine today" azul smirked, "it looks good on you I can actually see your body more".

If only there wasnt so many cameras and possible witnesses out of sight...

Before you could stay angry however, he tossed you a black rectangular item, looking closer you realized it was a Electric car key.

Of course, he's rich enough to have a keyless car.

Azul walked off towards a car parked the furthest in the garage, looking in the back of the trunk you could see almost ten bags of god knows what stacked neatly in the deep truck.

Thank god he did; easier to hide your lucky bag.

You load your "bag" into his trunk with hesitancy, loading it into the back of the trunk so it won't be of note to him or anyone looking through the trunk if the worst case scenario occurs.

"Is that all you brought?" Azul abruptly says from behind you causing a flinch from you.

He probably only was watching to make sure you didnt steal his luggage.

"It didn't seem necessary to bring much," you murmured, closing the trunk you walked towards the drivers side.

You got inside as fast as you could to get in the car first and was about to put the key inside when you realized Azul was still outside.

He seemingly was looking through his luggage off course confirming your earlier suspicions.

Ignoring him, you looked for the start button eventually finding it next to the console.

Pressing the ignition button, a jolt of worry from this morning stung you.

Why was this going too well?

Does he know I'm going to get my long-desired revenge?

Maybe this is a set up he probably is going to lure me there and Jade and the police will be waiting to-

"Never driven a car like this before or what?" Azul mocked this from his side in the passenger seat as he started buckling himself in closing the door with a hard slam.

"It's automatic; all you do is press the screen twice, put your location in, and then you steer once every 30 minutes," he explained, idly combing his finger into his hair seemingly in his own little world.

You grabbed the steering wheel after you entered the directions to the campsite.

The mountain specifically.

"Now drive"

-

The first 2 hours of the drive, nothing eventful happened, which intensified your sense of dread that kept sticking to you.

You tried to preoccupy your mind with softball, Jade, and your boyfriend. Azul was lookingout the windows or would check his phone and fidget with it for moments at a time.

If you really focused on the winding roads that led the two of you deeper into the evergreen sea of trees, it almost felt like he wasn't there.

Until the beginning of hour 3.

You had been focusing on directing the bulky steering wheel getting it to turn on the windy passage up the mountain when you felt something weird.

Right.

Left.

Right.

Your hands around the steering wheel tightened.

Looking over pretending to fix the mirror was when you saw Azul.

Azul had been staring at you.

You looked again through your peripheral vision.

A pair of cerulean peered back towards you.

You had no idea what was behind his locked on stare, it was more annoying to you seeing him gawking at you if anything.

"You seem tired (name)"

Oh here it comes...

"Do you want me to drive?" Azul asked as he shifted his position from his seat.

He was now facing you directly with the same sickening look on his face to receive from someone who'd been cruel to you for so many years.

"Why do you ask Mr. Ashengrotto? We're almost there, but if you need to stretch, there's several rest stops and one gas station before we get to our destination," you gripped the steering wheel harder.

The mask is back on.

"Im merely suggesting so you can have enough..."

Suddenly his hands curled around your clothed thigh before vigorously kneading it.

"Energy for later," Azul smiled his gaze now looking up your side profile again.

"Thanks, but I'll be fine, Mr. Ashengrotto."

"Azul"

Azul then placed his hand onto your thigh giving it a gentle squeeze.

The discomfort was unbearable.

But you reassured yourself you had approximately 1 hour, 40 minutes, and 50 seconds to get ready for the next and last phase of your plan for revenge.

-

Out of the sea of evergreen trees you both found yourselfs surrounded by canyons and revines alongside occasional thick redwood trees and a few meadows scattered about.

10 feet to your destination.

A vast clearing overlooked a ravine, and behind the cute little wooden cabins lining the rough rocky road was a unmistakable towering mountain.

The oppressive nature it had was hauntingly beautiful; you had to admire it from all sides in your mind.

The familiar camping ground your company always had events at was finally right in front of you.

You awkwardly parked the car next to the first cabin reserved for Mostro Inc.

Furthest from all the cabins...

Turning the ignition off, Azul immediately got out and walked towards the cabin, stretching and eventually reaching for his phone to call someone you couldn't quite pick up.

Good. 

You watched him disappear, guessing Azul wanted to go to the cabin to see if it was to his taste.

Hastily, you popped the trunk and grabbed some of his bags, noticing most were arranged differently from before.

You knew he would scold you if he didnt have access to his bag for a few moments too long.

Grabbing the expensive hard case luggage two at a time you began to approach the open door.

Step

Step

Step

You entered the cabin to reveal it to be an ordinary cabin.

Definitely worn from the conditions it would face from various seasons, but it had a touched-up quality to it, with a very comfortingly decorated entrance way leading to a small kitchen and living room full of cute camping decorations reminiscent of a cozy fall cottage.

To the right was a presumed guest room, which only had a full-sized bed with a whole antique wardobe, a bedside lamp, and one small window. On the opposite side of the hallway was the actual master bedroom of sorts.

It had a queen-sized bed with a built-in closet and bathroom you were about to further inspect it when you unexpectedly caught him walking out of the bathroom.

With something in his hands, one hand had something that was reminscent of...

Personal lubricant the label read.

His other hand contained a few pills you didnt recognize.

Weird.

"Mr- I mean Azul. I have some bags here"

"I'm not sure if you want me to get the rest of your luggage or-"

You held up the luggage youd brought hoping you could dash away from whatever was happening in front of you.

"Of course" he briefly answered.

You rolled the luggage towards the door when Azul suddenly spoke.

"Actually, can you set those bags in the kitchen?"He pointed at the bags you had.

Y/N….

You thought you misheard him.

Flashing a smile you quickly walked away into the kitchen to set them by the wooden coffee table in the center of it.

You turned around to walk back out when your eye was caught on the two glasses set on the counter. It seemed as if whoever had stayed here last had left some items.

Immediately you realized what Azul was most likely doing, shaking your head in disgust at the thought of your boss using the cabins you all used as his personal getaway for his many women.

Trying to push the image of Azul having sex out of your mind you walked back outside, almost knocking yourself against the heavy lock that was on the door.

Rubbing the spot on your left side as you walked down the wooden steps to the car.

Step

Step

Step

Only about A few bags remain.

Cautiously walking inside, you didnt expect to see your boss in the kitchen. It seemed he didnt notice you enter or if he did didnt acknowledge you as you heard the sound of pouring fill the room.

The sounds of glasses and cutting was heard but grew distant as you continued into the master bedroom.

Placing the bags next to the bed you noticed he had left a box of chocolates next to the bed.

Most likely for him to eat by himself, you snickered before carrying on making sure to avoid the lock again, you carefully opened the door and noticed a slight hesitation on the door.

Weird.

Azul must be messing with it to make sure it locks. You couldn't blame him since, once again, he was the most expensive man in the world.

You grabbed the remaining bags.

Now is the time to act...

-

After carefully concealing your "bag,” you juggle it between the heavy luggage Azul had and prayed it was camouflaged enough, walking up the steps.

Step

Step

Step

Lock.

You leave the remaining bags in the master bedroom.

Only....

That feeling of extreme dread washes over you as you drop the last luggage onto the bed.

"Y/N, would you like a drink?”

Your eyes flicked to the glass he had in his hand; Cucumber water.

"I just wanted to turn a new leaf with you (name)"

Azul took a sip out of the glass in question.

"why dont we see this trip as a way to understand each other"

You still stared at him in disbelief.

Why now would he want to become friends or anything with you now?

"Sorry, I'm not really thirsty" you turned away from him picking your "bag" off the ground.

But before you could leave he blocked the doorway.

"Just a sip" he smiled.

You knew he wasnt asking anymore.

Gingerly you grabbed the glass before putting it to your lips, His eyes watching as you let yourself consume a little swig.

Weirdly enough, you were actually parched and the cucumber was refreshing. He did drink a little bit of it anyway so you knew he didnt do anything to poison you.

Azul was still standing before you waiting for you to take another sip of the liquid. Letting your lips touch the glass once more you drank eyeing him to see when he'd move.

Except he didnt move until you had downed the whole water.

"See that wasnt so bad (name)" he gingerly grabbed your glass before setting off towards the kitchen.

You rolled your eyes before taking the "bag" to the bedroom across. Leaving your bag ontop of the bed a wave of warmth wrapped around you.

The thrill of finally being able to inact your revenge was nearly through.

You unzipped the "bag" going through the motions of unzipping it.

Until you felt yourself suddenly lose control of your arms.

And then you passed out ontop of the bed next to your items.

-

You couldnt open your eyes but you could feel your bra being unclasped.

Someone was undressing you agonizingly slow.

You tried to move your hands only to feel them heavy. Not as if you were bound but you simply couldnt pick them up.

Using your strength you opened your eyes to see.

Azul.

And the now locked master bedroom before you.

#yandere azul ashengrotto #yandere twst #yandere x you #yandere azul ashengrotto x reader #azul ashengrotto x yuu #yandere x reader #tw noncon #tw kidnapping

[mid-nightowl]

untitled lil fic #1 (jason todd and gotham war)

here's some gotham war rewrites i needed to get out of my head, the brainrot was killing me omg

warnings for violence, cursing, whatever the hell Bruce is doing (just Bruce as a full warning tag, the man is more unhinged than Joker in this)

---

“Oh Jason. How I’ve missed you, my sweet boy.”

The words are sickeningly sweet, poison-saturated words falling from bloody red lips. Delivered with a crooked smile, Joker looks up at him, uncaring at his position. His fingers curl in the clown’s suit collar, lips curling with a snarl.

Jason punches him again, the clown’s jaw cracking and his body straining against the ferry railing. Joker merely giggles, head lolling around through the air before his mismatched eyes meet his mask. 

“Shut the fuck up!” He snaps, unholstering his gun and digging the muzzle into Joker’s cheek.

His murderer raises his hands, waggling his fingers in surrender, grinning and smirking and smiling. 

He hates it, he hates it, he hates it. 

“I want you to think about this real carefully,” He digs his gun into his skin. “This could be the last joke you ever make, you understand? That’s what you want to go with?”

“You know,” His nightmare giggles, chuckles like a wind-up toy before he wipes the amusement off his face. The clown looks up at him, head tilted, pleased and patient and thoughtful. There’s not a single sliver of hate and destructive menace, or anger or disappointment or suspicion. 

Wrong, wrong, wrong, he thinks. There’s something wrong here. There’s something wrong with Joker—and not in the usual way. 

“The best jokes deliver a difficult truth, but hide it with a fun fiction,” Joker explains, smushed but coherent words strung together despite the gun halfway in his mouth. “Without humor all we have left is being mean and lying.”

“What?” He can’t stop the words before they stumble out of his mouth. He doesn’t let the gun go lax in his hand despite the way the clown’s words throw him off guard. 

Off-kilter is a genuine feeling that digs into him, shocking him to the core. The clown does this, he knows it. He knows this is how he does things, how he worms his way out of every situation and every attempted manslaughter, he knows how the clown operates, intimately. 

Jason knows him. 

Joker, historically, has been so many things. But he’s always been a psychotic, impulsive mass-murderer. Someone without restraint, without limitation. 

It’s why he’s always been Batman’s true nemesis. Bruce, he needs a fine-tuned control of everything and everyone. He is someone who has limits and restraint. 

Controlled, focused, and without limitations—Jason is almost the happy medium to both of them. 

Almost.

The three of them are similar, different, opposites and identical. It’s like walking in one of those mirror mazes where you can’t tell who the real you is. 

Who is the real Bruce Wayne? The man who cherishes his children or the one who maims them?

Who is the real Joker? The cold, purposeful mass murderer or the dumped-in-acid man who can’t tell the difference?

Who is the real Jason Todd? The bloody crime lord or the declawed crowbar wielding vigilante?

Joker simply smiles and pats his arm, as if Jason’s not trying to kill him.

He slams the clown against the railing again, snarling. 

“Enough games!” He growls and flips the safety off. The noise doesn’t even phase Joker, if anything he grins harder. His mismatched eyes—one red-brown, one green—flick above them before returning to his. 

“Are you really going to use that big bad gun of yours with Daddy watching? He’ll be so mad at you.” His murderer grins, letting his head hang limply in his grasp.

“What? Batman-!” He jerks back, head snapping up to the ferry roof cover. 

Empty. No looming monster demanding a painful compromise is here.

Joker’s hands push him back, and he grunts, stumbling into the ferry wall. The clown tumbles over the railing, disappearing from view. His laughter haunting the air. 

“No!” He shouts, dashing to the railing. 

The clown is gone under the waves and ice, sinking into the dark of Gotham Harbor. 

He’s not dead. He can’t be dead, Jason thinks, gripping the ice-cold railing, I haven’t killed him yet.

He’s not dead.

But that was mean. 

--

The last words Jason hears remind him of his grave. 

No, not the one he was buried in. Six feet of dirt above him and smothered in satin, watched over by that stupid weeping angel.

There’s a memorial in the cave with his name. ‘Good soldier’ and nothing else but his name. Both of them: Jason Todd and Robin. 

A monument to Bruce’s failure, his greatest mistake, a grave to his complicated teenage years, his love. 

“You’ve always been a good soldier. Rest now.” Bruce told him, jabbing him in the neck with the needle. 

A grave, a memorial, a monument. It makes him sick. The reminder that he will always be the dead Robin, the sad Robin, the angry Robin. 

Dead, dead, dead.

The violence done to him, inflicted and imprinted into his skin and bones was more important. The guilt and the lesson were more important than his cries for justice, for his life’s blood.

The monument and altar, raised after his murder, were never for him, but for Bruce.

He was dead, why would he care?

The story Bruce will tell would never be the truth, just excuses and wrong-doings. He would take accountability after the fact, but not before. 

Bruce would let his murderer walk and let him rot. 

Maybe that was why he buried Jason six feet under, so he wouldn’t have to face the decay and decomposition. That he could keep this golden, blurry image of him as Robin, as the straight A student, the good son. And not a weightless body splinted a thousand different ways to look human. 

But now that he’s resurrected—not in Bruce’s image, but as something broken and jagged, something lost and filled with dirt and green-green-green—Bruce refuses to acknowledge him. Refuses to believe this is who he is. 

Refuses to believe that he remade (destroyed) himself from the ruins, from the broken bones and empty veins and black thread that mended his corpse back into the image of Jason Todd. Refuse to think that if a girl can come back as a soothsayer, that a boy can come back as a gun. 

“Hnnng…Bruce,” Jason groans softly, heaving himself off the couch. 

Batman turns to him, looming with his face mask in his hands. The fluorescent lights, a nauseous lime-yellow, cut over his figure, his face, his mask. Almost a green-green-green, almost a pool of rage, almost a pit of madness.

His mask crackles alive in Bruce’s hands, Selina’s voice wavering between annoyance and worry. 

“Red Hood? Hood, please check in and let me kno-” Batman clicks his comm off. 

The resounding silence smothers him. 

His exhale comes out shaky, his heart beating too fast behind his bruised ribs, a chill crawling over his exposed skin. 

Something’s wrong. Something is very wrong. 

“...Batman? You…” He swallows roughly, mouth filled with dirt and blood and thread. “Wha…What did you do?”

“Nothing I’m proud of, Jason.” 

His heart sinks and skips a beat at the same time, stomach twisting with anxiety and fingers trembling against the ugly brown couch cushions.

Inhale. 

He pushed too much.

Taking Selina’s side?

He went too far.

Hood didn’t kill anyone?

Exhale. 

“Hh! Ho…” Jason croaks, getting his boots on the ground. “Y-you…you..”

“Take deep breaths, Jason.” Batman turns back to the computer hub glowing behind him, ignoring his attempts to speak, to demand answers. 

His arms shake as he holds himself upright, but when he tries to stand instead he chokes, falling to his knees in front of the couch. Gasping for air, he lays his palms flat against the cool tiles. His legs are quivering, heavy and unable to hold his weight. 

His whole body trembles with it, this feeling unfolding through his blood and bones, engulfing his head and voice. 

Fear, fear, fear.

“Years ago I created my backup personality, Zur, using techniques I learned from an old mentor and this machine that I built,” Batman starts, monitoring the screens in front of him with one hand on the keyboard and the other on his belt.

Bruce doesn’t turn to look at him, to face him, someone he calls son, someone he considers family, and explain what he’s done to Jason.

He never has. 

“I can’t change your personality with it, Jason…” Batman sighs, low and quiet. “But I can add to it. A small thing: your failsafe.” 

Failsafe. He slams the heel of his palm on the floor, cheeks tingling with his telltale sign of tears. A failsafe?!

Because Red Hood needs a failsafe instead of justice.

“What?!” He tries to snarl, to hiss and yell and scream his rage. But his voice fails him, anxiety chewing at his throat and tongue, voice tilting too high, too unsteady, too weak. 

“Now when you have heightened adrenaline, when you’re about to do something dangerous, your fear kicks in,” Batman continues explaining. “It…I’m sorry Jason. But it’s the only way.” He clenches his eyes shut—inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale—and tries to ignore his rabbit heart battering against its cage, pounding to the frantic rhythm of fear, fear, fear.

“I love you.” 

The words feel like gunshots, the knuckle prints on his skin after the two of them fought over Penguin, the smack of Selina’s whip against his fingers, the crowbar on his skull, his legs, his ribs, over and over and over. 

“I love you, but you are a murderer,” Bruce condemns him, over and over again. “You’re a bull in a china shop and I go round after round with you, trying to figure out how to help make you a better man, to heal you.” 

“H-heal me?” He whispers, rage cut off at the roots. “This isn’t…this isn’t you, Bruce.”

Batman, finally, turns to Jason. He looms, tall and foreboding, darkness dripping around him, drenching him in fear, fear, fear. 

Batman takes a step forward and he crashes back against the couch, spine digging into the wooden frame painfully. 

He can’t breathe. Batman moves and he knows it in his bones, knows it down to the scars Gotham and its guardian have left on him, that he’s not here to save him, to help him. 

“I got you a new identity. A place in Metropolis.” Batman keeps walking forward, despite Jason’s growing hyperventilation, despite the way his blunted nails scratch at the floor. Despite the way he shakes, black stitches snapping apart, the pieces of him falling to the floor of this slaughterhouse, at the feet of his butcher. 

“B-bat…Batman,” He whimpers, hand twisting into the fabric of his suit. 

“You can live a normal life. Fall in love, do meaningful work. This isn’t punishment, Jason,” Batman kneels in front of him and removes the cowl. “I love you.” Jason shrinks back, shoulders back and legs curled to his chest. Bruce’s face is sharp and pale, with bags under his eyes and days old stubble on his jaw. 

His eyes are dark with absolute rage. 

Batman is going to hurt him. Batman is going to hurt him.

Bruce is going to hurt him again. 

“This is a gift. Any way you look at it, you should be in prison for all the people you’ve killed,” He chokes at Bruce’s words, barely smothering the terrified cry in his throat. “This is me saving you from that. Save you from yourself.”

Jason can only stare at the man before him—the man who took him in, who raised and trained him, who loved him—does his best to bury him.

fear, fear, fear. 

--

“Please..don’t…please,” Jason pleads, covering the girl with his frame, caging her in with his bruised and burnt arms.

“Let’s begin.” Scarecrow’s voice reverberates, it shakes through air to match his erratic breathing.

“P-please, I’ll do anything you want, anything,” He begs, fear, fear, fear burning in his veins. “Please. Just stay…stay away.” 

Scarecrow closes the gap between them, rocking back and forth on his crooked, long legs. His mask distorts and mutates, a familiar green-green-green splashing over the darkened void of his gas mask.

“You’re going to die tonight. I know you know this,” Crane looms over him, green-green-green trickling out his eyes, gushing out like an open wound. “But we can still have fun, can’t we.” 

The girl trembles underneath his chest and Jason tries to smother the whimper begging to pour out his lips. It’s gnawing at him—rabbit heart frantic in his chest, hands trembling from the burning pain and anxiety, smoke and ash gathering in his lungs—fear, fear, fear.

He can’t think of anything else. 

“Those fools were right. Your terror…it’s real and it isn’t mine,” Scarecrow sneers, kneeling in front of him. “There is no thrill in driving terror into the heart of a baby bird.” 

Scarecrow takes his jaw in his hand, needles tickling at his exposed skin, forcing Jason to look at him. He can’t help but jerk his head at Crane’s touch, needles pricking into his cheek when Crane holds him tighter, another inescapable cage around him. 

His chest heaves with every shaky inhale-exhale, his anxious fear fanning over the rogue’s mask. Scarecrow leans in closer, the glass over his eyes gleaming, reflecting the fire roaring around them. Jason can hear the screams in them, watching the shadows morph around them and the straw on Crane’s shoulders wiggle. 

“This is my moment of triumph, and it is snatched away from me by..by him?!” Scarecrow shakes Jason’s head in his hand, needles scratching into his skin but still not drawing blood.

Scarecrow lets his head drop, needles disappearing from his sight before they’re clawing at his throat, wet and cold against his clammy skin. Jason whimpers and clenches his eyes shut, unable to do anything but beg. 

He knows praying for someone to help him is futile. 

No one is coming to save him. 

“Never let it be said Scarecrow has no pity,” Crane says, voice cutting in and out his head like radio static. “I will quickly finish what your daddy started.” 

“Doesn’t mommy get a say?”

A voice slices through the flames licking at his skin and the fear smothering him. And when Jason’s gaze finds him, he can’t help the tears. 

“Step away from the vigilante, pervert.” Joker grins, dark red lips stretched too wide, too thin. Ash rains down on his green-green-green umbrella, rolling down the crooked dark patches and shamrock-colored nylon. 

“You’ve already killed him once. It’s time you learned to share, Clown.” Scarecrows speaks with thin, razor-sharp disdain, glaring over his shoulder at the newcomer. 

“You should know this by now, Doc. I don’t play well with others.” The clown throws aside the umbrella, knife materializing from thin air as he descends upon Scarecrow.

“You’re not even really him, are you? Do you think I don’t know about you? Delusions and megalomania with-” Scarecrow baits and taunts the clown, before the two of them are ducking and weaving and slicing at each other with barely concealed rage and annoyance. 

“Blah, blah, blah. Do you know why you’re always going to be a C-List villain, Johnny?” Joker jokes and Jason can imagine the sharp grin on his face. “Because doctors aren’t scary. They’re annoying.”

He ducks his head down and curls tighter around the girl. She cries underneath him, hiccups soft under the roar of flames closing in on them, the screech of metal on metal and creaking of deteriorating wood. 

He can’t move. He can’t do anything but try to breathe. But all he tastes is smoke, choking him, billowing down his throat and in his lungs. His heartbeat is so loud, jumping under its bone-cage, a heady, heavy thing—badump-badump-badump-badump. It’s too fast, erratic, out of control.

“You’re a bull in a china shop and I go round after round with you, trying to figure out how to help make you a better man, to heal you-”

Always out of control. Jason whines, hands scrambling against the wood below him. It burns, seering through his fingertips. It hurts-it hurts-it hurts, he can’t do this. He can’t.

He can’t breathe.

“Ahhhh! Ack! Achhhhh!” Scarecrow screams, guttural and wobbly and when he looks up, Jason can only watch as Crane crashes through the fifth story window. 

Tears continue to stream down his face, his heart trembling in his chest and the realization strikes him then, cracking down on his skull like a crowbar, over and over and over. 

Joker saved him. Joker saved him. Joker saved him. 

His murderer saved him.

 “A-are you real?!” Jason cries out, fingers curling into the withering floorboards. “Is this real?!” 

“Oh, don’t worry about him. I didn’t even give him a real dose of Joker Gas. I ran out. Heh!” Joker laughs, rubbing at his jaw. Blood and green-green-green stain the edges of his mouth, smeared down his chin and throat before disappearing under the orange sweatshirt he’s wearing. 

“But now, it’s just you and me. And…your daughter? Did you have a daughter and not tell me?” The clown tilts his head in question, tucking away the green-green-green gun in his hand. He steps closer, uncaring of the flames licking over his pale skin.  

Jason can’t tell if it's real or an illusion, can’t tell if his murderer is here and saving? rescuing? tricking? him. He can’t tell if this is just another nightmare he’s trapped himself in, or if this is the real punishment Bruce promised him. 

“She’s just a kid. Please…don’t,” He pleads, the tears searing down his ash-stained cheeks. 

Joker leans down, bringing his face close to Jason’s. His mismatched eyes—one green, one red-brown—bore into his and the clown smiles, too wide, too cracked and broken, too bloody and green-green-green. 

He sobs, cracking under everything. He can’t do this, he can’t. 

“My, my. Even like this you still think you’re the hero. Batman would be proud if he didn’t hate you,” His murderer says, before his bony hand is cupping Jason’s face, calloused fingers dancing over his skin. 

Jason clenches his jaw when it threatens to wobble and tremble, but knows the fear is shining in his eyes. Knows the clown can see it, knows he recognizes it in his baby-blues. He’s been here before.

They’ve been here before, together. 

“But don’t worry my sweet boy, I’ll find a way to fix you. Nobody is going to hurt you. I won’t let them. Because I need you.” His voice is honeyed and threatening, curling and clawing and cloying into his head like a sickness. Joker pets his hair, gentle and caring, and Jason knows he means it. 

He’s going to fix him. He’s going to heal him. 

He’s going to save Jason.

“Don’t worry, sweet boy. We’ll see each other soon,” Joker pats his cheek with a crooked green-green-green smile. “I promise.” 

His heart beats frantic to the words—fear, fear, fear—eyes unable to look away from Joker.

Jason believes him.

#unholy screeching and too much caffeine #my writing #the brainrot was literally killing me i wish i was joking #havent been able to FOCUS on anything else #i just cant get over divorced batjokes playing tug-of-war with their murderous and highly traumatized kid (jason) #im not entirely sure if i like this? it feels very rough draft to me #but i really just needed to get it down and out of my head so i can focus on my other wips T-T #would also love to hear anyone's thoughts if they have any<3 #might have missed some grammar stuff and yadda yadda but im kind of tired of looking at this:)))) #i do think i want to add to it thou--maybe a scene with selina another with the batkids #ill probably come back to this after the final issue for the actual event (which comes out next week!) and joker's comic #i just really wanted to write how jason was dealing with all this; how he might take the fact that joker is saving his ass rather than bruc #but im not sure if it came across the way i wanted it to?? #jason todd #jason todd and bruce wayne #jason todd and joker #writing

[orbital-inclination]

Me: I do not need another thing to think about I’m in the middle of drafting a comic and some 4-5k ish words into two chapter drafts I do not need—

My brain: ok but what if in an inverse twist of the undertale multiverse, all au monsters are sentient/robotic androids, sort of like how bitties are in Bitty AUs. With different “brands” representing different AUs. Thus allowing things like “coding” to have a very literal meaning. Underfell bots are constructed for gladiator cage match’s for the entertainment of betters (and probably 100% illegal), Swapfell Gold and AU off shots are military androids sent off to fight wars for their human owners and governments so human soldiers never have to be faced with the brutality of their nation’s international policies. Meanwhile, Class, Swap, and Outer are all domestic brands with varying emphasis on subgenres; pop stars, fashion icons, artificial internet celebrities designed to market certain company’s as “approachable” to the masses, or even legal unpaid domestic servants or nannies.

(Info dump continues below)

Outcodes are fun because they are individuals who were corrupted in some way, and therefore considered disposable by the company who made them. Realizing this individually or because another outcode contacted them, most who are still online out in the world are in hiding. A caught outcode is sent back to the factory to be destroyed and recycled. It’s a death sentence.

On The Star Sans: Dream, Blue, and Ink are outcodes who independently escaped captivity, met each other through happenstance and have since established not just a team but a found family in the process. They live double lives, by daylight they pose as functional domestic bots, and by night they are the Star Sanses, heroes of Ebott City! Motivated by the altruistic desire to help others in need (humans included) but especially other monsters/bots who need help.

Legally, a domestic bot must be registered to a human owner. Normally the bot has no control over this. Dream, Blue and Ink have found a way to bypass this system. Independently they’ve picked out decent people to live with. The humans are unaware they’ve been setup. Dream picked a kind but lonely elder woman, who without family nearby, needed someone to help her live safely and independently. She sees Dream as the grandson she never had. To the surprise of no one, Ink chose an artist; an eccentric magician who moved to Ebott from France, intending to settle down after trotting across the globe for a good couple decades. Ink has accepted him as a father figure. Blue is happily rooming with a professional athlete who volunteers to coach at the local high school, the women has a busy professional life and when she’s gone, he has run of the house and equipment.

Error specifically is one example of a horrible tragic case of a classic sans being tossed into gladiator rings, miraculously survives his first match and than every single one after that but at a steep cost. The brutality of the ring gradually corrupts his code because he is being forced into a function that conflicts with the programming he was “born” with, (the birth of Geno), and later, utterly desperate, Geno hacks into his own systems. Though surviving the attempt is not intentional, he does. His owner, believing him to be defunct throws him out. Error awakens in a trash heap, finally free; and vows untold destruction on the men who made him. (And naturally all of Ebott city too)

And also later: Y/N finds and mends Error’s battered body (after a vicious fight with another outcode) and this starts a very tentative relationship or something idk this is as far as I got.

#orbital chatter #long post #I need to get this out of my head so I can actually focus on what I want to focus on!! #robot!au #automon!tale

[a-slut-for-vegaspete]

Playboyy – Porn without Plot?

Initial Thoughts on/ Reaction to Playboyy Episode One

As someone who loves to study (quite literally; I’m currently pursuing a MA degree in cultural studies) and investigate depictions of sex and sexuality in media, Playboyy has been one of my most anticipated releases of 2023 and it’s easier for me to work through my issues with a piece of media when I put my thoughts on paper or in a word document; so this post is primarily for myself.

Sex is sometimes presented as a personal, individual matter but in reality, our thoughts on sex, our dislikes and likes are a product or, at the very least, are shaped by, and of course in term can also influence, existing, dominant discourses on sex(uality), gender, class, race etc. One example of this – one most BL viewers/ queer individuals will recognise  – would of course be sex between queer individuals; an issue that remains highly debated. Some people/governments to this day like to think that they have the right to dictate who is allowed to have sex with whom and what sexual practices people can engage in without facing societal/legal punishment. So sex is never just about sex but is always also political; it’s just that this is more obvious to people who are part of a (or multiple) marginalised group(s). Sex is an entangled, complex phenomenon that always needs to be understood in relation to other discourses on e.g. (normative) femininity/masculinity, national identity etc. So any sexual act (on screen/irl), whether intended or not, engages with these discourses, subverts them and/or reaffirms them.

Regardless of whether the creators of Playboyy – or any piece of media for that matter – have meant for this series to serve as a critique or subversion of certain ideas surrounding sex and sexuality, the series (un)intentionally presents us with certain performances of sex and in doing so adds to, intervenes in and shapes existing discourses on sexuality and influences how topics such as kink, queerness, sex work (to name a few) are understood and talked about. 

Since only one episode has been released so far, and since I don't know what goes on in the writers’ minds, I, of course, can’t say for certain whether Playboyy is intended to engage with the political and social aspects of sex. However, I do think that Denice’s Twitter accounts (he is one of the writers (@ VivienneActing)) can provide us with insights into the writers’ intentions behind creating this show. In addition, the opening scene of episode one makes it clear that this piece of media, in some capacity at least, serves as a social commentary on the construction of sexual practices and sexual identities (in Thailand). The viewer is seemingly directly addressed, questions regarding sex are posed and the statement that “sex has many forms and careers in many places with many preferences” is made, which leads me to think that the creators have thought about and want the audience to critically think about how sex is often presented and talked about within dominant discourses. The character goes on to say that “it would be great if we could stop faking it and be frank about it”, which implies that the way we currently talk about sex is dissatisfactory to the character in the show/the creators of the show and that this series intends to present their own – potentially non-normative – views on sex. Especially the comment that “it’s a shame that we can’t be that free in this country” functions as a critique of how sex and the sex industry are frequently conceptualised in Thailand. (And when I say ‘Thailand’ here I of course don’t mean the entire country; I’m specifically referring to people/institutions/political parties that uphold and propagate conservative beliefs on and attitudes regarding sex. And I think this is the part of Thailand the series is critical of here as well).

However, I also don’t want to place too much importance on the intentions of the creators (in part, bc as I have said before, unless we are told specifically we can only speculate about their motives). I for one am also very interested in how I myself (and other viewers) read and interpret the narratives the series presents us with.

Little disclaimer: I watched episode 1 last night, half asleep, I don’t have the best memory and since the story has literally just begun (and there are so many ways this could pan out), my stance on these issues will probably change with the release of future episodes. So my ramblings have their limitations. In addition, I’ve grown up in the West, which influences how I conceptualise sex(uality) and gender; which is definitely something to be wary of and to be critical of, as well. 

As of right now, I’m the most intrigued by Zouey and by how he navigates sex and how he expresses himself sexually. What I find so interesting about his character is his non-normative approach to sex. While he is introduced as someone who apparently hasn't slept with anyone yet, we also see that he has sexual needs and desires. I love that the show does not limit sexual expression to intimate relations between two or more people but also showcases the possibility of exploring it on your own. 

I’m fascinated by people’s initial reactions to Zouey and what people make of his character; in particular people’s thoughts on the scene where he is in a dark room masturbating to a painting. I do wonder how much the colour grading (quite dark and gloomy) and the music (somewhat ominous) might influence or shape viewers’ perceptions of this scene and their conceptualisation of Zouey, and more broadly speaking their reception of expressions of non-normative sexual acts (in media).

The way Zoey negotiates his boundaries regarding sex is so interesting to me, as he clearly feels sexual attraction but does not feel comfortable being touched sexually. (I do wonder if there is a reason for this. Not saying that there needs to be a particular reason; I’m genuinely just curious if we might find out more in future episodes). I personally love how that doesn’t stop him from blowing Teena (twice if I remember correctly). I think his performance disrupts the normative script of sex, (or one of the normative scripts. To say that there is only one normative way to have sex would be incorrect I guess). He definitely doesn't adhere to this script/these scripts, and this seems to have created discomfort/confusion for some viewers, while others seem to really appreciate it. 

Also a little side note: the way Zouey does or doesn’t have sex can also lead us to posing the question of what counts as sex. Only penetrative sex? That seems like a somewhat outdated and not exactly queer-friendly definition of sex, right? And what even is virginity? Is Zouey still a virgin or not by the end of the episode?

I think the first episode already touches on so many different issues and I love it. People have pointed out the different social statuses of First and Soong, so we already have a storyline that highlights how sex and class are interconnected issues. We have seen a fair amount of kinky sexual practices, and sex workers have also made an appearance. So to come back to my initial question, is Playboyy porn without plot? Personally, I wouldn’t classify it as such. In my opinion, while the first episode does heavily focus on sex, sex is used as a tool for storytelling and the creators have taken the unique approach of introducing the viewers to the characters via sex. Plus, there is the mysterious disappearance of Nun/Nant(?). But also to me, it doesn’t really matter whether this is porn without plot or not. Firstly, because I think that sometimes (emphasis on ‘sometimes’, okay?) when something is labelled as porn without plot this is done to discredit a particular piece of media and to paint it as something that is inherently ‘less’ (less serious, less valuable etc.) and I don’t agree with this particular conceptualisation of plot without porn because I think it fails to recognise the value of such stories, not just for people’s own enjoyment but also in regards to academic analysis. And secondly, because I am more interested in how the series is situated (and maybe even actively positions itself) in relation to broader discourses such as (non-normative) sexualities, kink, sex work (in Thailand) etc. and for this we don’t necessarily need a “good” plot structure. So I, for one, am I excited to watch (and analyse) the rest of the show. 

#i’m known to change my mind quite frequently #so there is a good chance that i will have changed my opinion on a lot of things by the end of the show #also this is clearly by no means a fully flashed out analysis #i just needed to get this out of my head so that i can focus on the things i actually need to do today ahah #if you see a typo ... no you didn't #playboyy the series

[48787]

New Transmission The fucking Scientific Instrument Class Pseudocons apparently developed what they're calling "Hetero Sapience" and are corrupting the brainmodules of the non-Pseudo 'cons around them by using annoying xenophilosophy words. Soundwave tells me they're 'Greek' and 'Latin' words, apparently. Cool, I guess? Anyway, if you see any SI Class 'cons causing... issues, just try your hardest to turn your brainmodule off before you start getting infected with their weird lingo, alongside all the other issues pertaining to letting the SI Pseudocons transmit data into your brainmodule in their own weird ways. Thundercracker, on a bet with Starscream, tried to get into an argument with one of them and his head literally exploded when it started talking about Alpha Trion's "Mythological Origins" in its weird dialect. He's mostly fine, CR Pods are working at 'peak' efficiency, but the facial reconstruction is apparently impossible due to some kind of corruption. I thought it was just some weird prank but there weren't even any scorch marks or anything. Just exploded. So yeah, just avoid optical contact and auditory contact to the best of your ability and you should be fine. Otherwise, try to force-shutdown your brainmodule if you can. Shockwave is working on a cure right now, mostly because I know he had something to do with this in the first place so he's going to be the one to fix it. He probably wanted a greater justification to do that weird data-transfer idea he mentioned previously. But it also explains the weird Thunderwing hypotheticals he's been asking me lately... Can I go one fucking cycle without someone trying to "Perfect Thunderwing's Work" or whatever other idiotic drivel that I keep finding our limited energon reserves siphoned into?? It's not even a Shockwave thing, it's like every damn Cybertronian these days thinks they have the "Missing piece of the puzzle" or whatever. In fact, Shockwave might be doing this as a weird threat against the other R&D 'cons to cement himself as the one and only Decepticon "Allowed" to have resources wasted on projects like that. Ugh, now that I think about it, that's probably a correct assumption and he's probably gonna expect me to thank him for it later. Ugh, and he's probably literally right. Ugh. At least his repairs both to himself and to his lab seem to be mostly complete so further research into the SI project should hopefully come along a little faster. Both Shockwave and Soundwave think the SIs could potentially be used as some kind of specialty weapon, but we'll have to see how they work on sparkless lifeforms, like biological lifeforms or xenomechanical lifeforms. The SIs don't seem to corrupt each other, but Shockwave keeps reaffirming that they're not "Sparkless Lifeforms" because they "were never lifeforms to begin with"... but I think he's trying to hide something. Usually Soundwave is the one to pick up on that kind of technological obfuscation, but he actually agreed with Shockwave and offered to send Ratbat to try to work out exactly what each "sapient" SI is now capable of on a personal level. We could have just had regular Cybertronians aboard to fill the role SIs fill. I would've preferred K Class to fill any role an SI could fill in all honesty!! But no, constructing cold wasn't enough, we just had to try to learn how to "Construct Frozen" and the "Absolute Zeroes" just had to be put on my ship. Whatever. I've probably said too much already. This was supposed to be a warning for my ship crew, but it's looking like it'll end up being transcribed on the golden disk as well so when this new Scientific Instruments of Destruction project backfires in some absurdly bombastic way there will at least be something remaining that says I was right. End of Transmission

New Transmission Okay so I was right, but so was Shockwave and Soundwave. Or, well, they were right just enough to make sure the backfire is postponed for at least another handful of cycles. Ratbat is still in CR from the investigation, but the cure Shockwave developed seems to be effective and Thundercracker is out and aiding the repair effort. Shockwave is now in contact with one of the SIs digitally and the other few are... integrating due to the personal efforts of Soundwave. I suppose now would be pertinent to mention not all the SIs developed the "Hetero Sapience" condition, many of them are safe for interaction. Soundwave is also currently monitoring their presence, Ravage is tasked with the regular SIs and Laserbeak is tasked with the "Sapient" SIs. Shockwave probably knows exactly what caused this event but he is preoccupied with the one he no doubt is either indoctrinating or ruthlessly interrogating. Report to Soundwave if you see any suspicious behavior, he has been working very hard to ensure the SIs have their purpose clearly defined (And closely monitored). And, Starscream, stop trying to convince the SIs that you are the leader of this ship. Not only have the majority of your efforts been wasted on subsentient automata, the only one you have actually found who possesses the ability to truly listen to you immediately came to the bridge to complain about you. They were the first sapient SI I communicated with directly and it was because they felt the need to complain about you. I almost feel embarrassed for you. Come back to the bridge so you can apologize to it or so I can teach it how to laugh at you. It's practicing right now actually! This moment of chaos should hopefully be largely under control now, the actual "population" of Scientific Instrument Class Pseudocons was actually quite fewer than initially expected due to an indexing error incorrectly labeling certain shells as SI class. At the very least, we have some more specialty warriors because of it all. End of Transmission EOF

#yippie peace through tyranny!! #nemesis posting #Decepticon High Command Slice of Life rambles #Matrix Visions #I like this “chat” font I think it's cool #spacebridge still needs more time in the oven unfortunately #I'm also procrastinating on that because I can't seem to wrap my head around guestmount but do not want to send backup files one at a time #wegh. It'll get done. Eventually. #I'll have so much more bullshit once I actually finish the damn comic my wife radically altered my life with hehehe #I cannot wait to start posting about Alpharius Trionicon. He's the fucking worst if you couldn't tell by name alone and I love him so much #Anyway I just had a very specific joke/pun in my head in the shower then it turned into a whole *thing* like it usually does. #I usually don't explain shit but the shower idea centered around getting the SI acronym to work for hyper specific jokes. #Still can't decide if I want to lock in on “Scientific Instrument” because it fits *so well* for *so many reasons* #But “Synthetic Intelligence” is more generic in a more understandable way... Eeh.. It's a little *too* generic. “Instrument” is cooler. #Once my wife helps me understand her lil fucker more I'll come up with an even shitter joke using “Y/N” so I can do Y/N x SI x SI bullshit! #Oh! The matrix triune project is coming along slowly as well!! I think I mentioned that microphone project once or twice now hehe #I'm gonna make so many shitty covers of songs once I get the soundproofing to start focusing on vocal training stuff #It's been quite a fun time aboard the nemesis!! There's so much to “Blog” about that it's hard to really know when to start *or* stop hehe! #And the fact that all these projects are all interwoven is so fucking wonderful!! I FINALLY feel able to fully grasp my own focus!! #My brain is like a particle collider for certain interests now. I can reliably just.. Spit things out and tie it into the other interests! #It's sometimes exhausting but in such a new way. Like a relieving exhaustion? #Still figuring that part out!! #Anyway that's enough personal project vagueposting I should really be getting back to work hehe this was fun

[bunnihearted]

❄️🐇❕

#i feel like im going insane and tonight it's esp bad so i need to.... vent :$ #some time ago i had the fortune of a very very wonderful person entering my life. and since day one BOOM i think of them every single day #im not even exaggerating.. like every single day i just think and daydream of them. i've had sm extra inabiloty to focus - #bc i just need to constantly stop and think of them..... #there is so much abt them to adore and admire. so much!!!! i didnt know someone like them could exist.. #i love talking to them and i just wanna kno everything there is to know abt them!!! everything regarding interests me #there's also the aspect of how i feel talking to them. i know they dont judge the same way as other ppl do so it's easier to talk to them #tho i still have avpd so i often start over explaining myself and get insecure etc etc. i need to get out of my head!!!! #idk.. idk... it has never been like this for me. so im also scared #what do i do.. how do i navigate this? i've never been here before and i feel lost even if it's def not a bad place to be in #every single day... i just wish that i could be with them more and more. this wish never calms down it just gets bigger #but. how? how do i break this loop and make it into reality? is it only gonna stay as a desire and a daydream? :(( i rlly dont want that #im scared too. bc what if i want and can make it my reality but it just wont happen? what if it just wont #im also not the only one in this equation that decides. what if... i have to face rejection.. what if im a disappointment. what if what if #i dont know!! i only know that i think of them all day every day. it gets more nd more intense each day. #i also get more sure that it's what i want... #anywayyyy. im actually.. driving myself insane with how obsessively i think of this #i cant quite put it into words but i had to get at least some of it off my chest #like how. do i express my feelings to them. how do i turn it into reality. how do i face that fear of the unknown and smth i've never done #but also how do i face that fear and prepare for the fact that even if i want smth dreams made into reality cant be certain. #there r so many life things that decide what happens too.... not just my will and desire #but as well as.. how do i prqepare myself to deal with the potential oh whoops maybe im the only one who rlly want this. #maybe this is onesided maybe my feelings just flew out of control nd idk how to reel them back in whoops. #like i dont know at all what could happen.. all i know is what i wish.. hmm gosh this is all just making my head spin every day.

[bangcakes]

.

#personal #keep being like. if Only i had talked to him sooner. if Only i had been Friendlier sooner. but its like #Realistically.... probably wasnt ready. and also like. itd have to happen after school was over anyway bc 1. um i need to focus on school #and 2. how Awkward if i asked him out n he said no. or say we broke up or soemthing #like there were weeks i saw him every day. aint no way... i could handle the awkwardness of that #so ok ok ok. everything is fine JFJFJKFKFKFMFMFMFMFMF #i just have to remember not to get in my own head about it #like if i wanna message him i just should..... #its just..... hhhhHHhhhhh whyd this have to happen to me at 29. i could have been a happy spinster thank u NFJFJFJFJJFJFJFJF #but now ik what having an actual crush is like and oh wow is it painful. but also beautiful n fun. i just...... and lets face it this is #more than a crush. like its definitely Like like but i dont wanna say the Real L Word bc it seems..... idk JDJDJJDJD #but ive definitely um.... fallen. ya. ew JDJDKDJKDKDKDKDKS #but im just gonna follow my gut or whatever the fuck has been guiding me bc things have worked out so far #and like it wouldnt have without his participation. like ya.... #im just like... what if he Forgets about me or like everything fizzles out #but then its like i Know if i see him again itll all come back. #bc in the summer i tried so hard to get over him (and kinda succeeded)... only to see him again in class and be like oh fuck oh no and the #n That Dinner. that was the final blow. i was so overwhelmed i got lost on the way home #which... the restaurant we were at is less than 10 mins from my house so you can imagine the uh Overwhelmingness #i cant even remember the original point of this but. i think we'll find a way ....... i say we but i should say 'i' bc until he tells me #that he likes me im gonna have to like Not Assume. hhhh #it doesnt help either that ppl were bringing up 'hes just not that into you' on twt bc Now im like #oh God. am i in that kind of situation???? i doubt it tho. i think hes just reserved. GAH. whatever happens happens

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

#well. today was a nice day of not doing anything but drawing really. theres an au where i went to art school and am a happier person lol #except not really bc im sure my head would ruin that too. anyway. its a shame i have to return to the pain tomorrow. i have so much to grade #plus a paper to write plus data to work with. a protocol to figure out. and an exam to study for and a final project thatll kill me #god. i also have to get ready for lab Monday. christ. and what shall i say to my therapist Tuesday? well we could try to tackle the deep set #looming issue that prevents me from getting better in our tiny 50min session or i could be like listen. just fucking listen. let me give u #the case 4 and against me having adhd so i can stop feeling fucking nuts. just like give me feedback. ya kno? #it would b inattentive bc im not hyper unless im losing my mind and bordering on hyp0mania. but my focus is something i cant control #executive functioning has always been a problem but now im so worn down im in danger of actual consequences. and its not just things i dont #wanna do. im not just anxiously avoiding. i cant start tasks and stick with them. i flip back and forth and get nothing done. i spiral #sometimes for hours. im not doing anything fun im just not doing anything. frozen in anguish. i dont even wanna think abt how much money ive #lost by not filling out reimbursement sheets which arent hard to do. theyre easy i just never do them. why??? i dont fucking kno. but im not #forgetful. im thinking constantly abt these things. i just cant make them happen. theyre stuck buffering. i do have memory issues tho #my short term working memory is like that of a literal child. so i cant follow complex instructions. i constantly need new info. constantly #need sound. spoken words plus music at the same time. but the main reason i need an answer to this is the reading issue. which is that im #dyslexic but also my thoughts r like an interfering frequency. without realizing ill b thinking and not reading. its a problem no matter #what im reading. its severely disruptive. i will physically read out loud to try to hold my attention in place and still get distracted by #my own head. do u kno how frustrating it is to read something aloud 3 times and not know wtf u just read bc u arent thinking abt anything #interesting u would rsther b reading but u can't fucking pay attention long enough. genuinely if its not adhd and i cant get medication to #fix my focus issues i dont kno wtf im gonna do. im so bad at reading and its extremely frustrating. but is it just dyslexia? idk what i #described doesn't fucking seem normal or like a reading problem. sounds like a focus issue. so riddle me that #idk ive got adhd on both sides of my family plus my focus fluctuates with ny hormones plus homones possibly induce hyp0mania. like i mean #ive got other issues which make a diagnosis difficult to parse but like i feel like that's decent evidence for possibly adhd? my friend said #she was always worried she had a brain tumor before she was diagnosed. to me ive always felt like my brain is full of holes. im missing the #parts that would let it operate correctly. the frontal lobe is just fucked. ugh. i wonder how much accommodation i could get from the #disability office if i actually went to them. i wont bc im fucked up and i dont think they could actually do anything for me at this stage #but alas im curious. ugh. y do i do this to myself? i kno y but not enough time for that in 50min. bad attitude mostly. half my brain #just craves death. the other half is just trying to tread water but its hard with someone trying to drown u. so its all fucked #unrelated

[datastate]

i haven’t been active on here in so long. how is everyone!!

#i’m good (other than the bugs) altho i’ve been busy x_x #w irl things which are so... well we don't need to get into all that #i actually want to see if i can head out to the mall sometime this week just to wind down & focus on planning out art stuff. it's been a #few weeks & i still haven't finished up my ytd character refs so i should probably set to focus on that... #& also in terms of brainstorming how i'll patch up this part in mcfdau... auuu. you know how it is. art's hard but! i'm excited to finally #share this stuff [whenever that is] #i've also been reconsidering my submission for the zine to have the comic take place for 2-2 rather than 2-1 but. we'll see. i have both #sketched out already so it's just a matter of choosing which one to line ;o; #and. laying out the flats OTL i'm fine w shading & such but ohhh how colors evade me #ANYWAY. yeah it's. it's all been art o7 i love creating things. would love to be able to focus one day #jestersvaguely

[star-mum]

okay lovelies I'm officially done with the group assignment that was hanging over my head and draining the soul outta my body this past ENTIRE WEEK

#If I get a score under 8 I think I'll actually cry #... #okay if I get anything under a 9 my heart will break into a million pieces #Yes I put a lot of my worth as a person onto my performance in class #IM A LITTLE FUCKED IN THE HEAD #WHY DO YOU THINK IM ON TUMBLR FOR #I was not particularly pretty funny or popular in school #but DAMN IT if I wasnt a Delight To Have in Class #I must impress every single teacher I come across #please save me #OKAY !! #I have a test tomorrow that I havent started studying for #and I have a report on my intership due wednesday that I havent started either : D #and it needs to be done in the morning so my mom can print it out : D #alright its waking up at 6am everyday for the next two weeks for me !! #I should start it tonight at least so I can focus on my test tomorrow but my sister needs to use the computer too :/ #I have exams for the next 3 days :3 #Maybe a phd isnt for me... #like this is a BAs and Im already struggling #alright quick cry break after dinner then we regroup

[florida3exclamationpoints]

Wanna hear how stupid I am. Ofc you do. Refer to the tags.

#ok so my boss asked me to focus on one kind of cookie and our new cakes #yesterday i only did the cookies but i didn't finish them #the plan for today was finished the cookies (quick and simple) qnd make the cakes (much more time consuming) #ok so i start making the cookies right. and im going over the number i need a million times in my head. i wrote it down. #it was very simple math but i rechecked myself a bunch. ok. #i needed 24 baked cookies. to make 12 each. of the same design cookie but iced with 2 different colors. #very simple right????? apparently not #bc at some point.... my brain decided.... i needed 24 of EACH COLOR.......... so i made a big batch of dough....... #then i was like...... hmmmmm...... wait....... i did the simple math about 37 more times...... no yeah that's too much dough #ok WHATEVER. more dough for extra cookies!!! i was low on some number cookies ill make a few numbers cool great #but then i looked at the message of what my boss had asked me to do again. and even better news!! #the new cake designs (that i was supposed to start next) have cookies on top as decor!!!! great!!! i have a lot of dough!!!!! #so. i was like. im gonna cut out a few number cookies. then im gonna check exactly what kind of cookies to make for the cakes #and you know what i did..... i started cutting number cookies.... and i couldn't stop....i was like hmm actually i need a few more of those #ill cut out some extra number 6s!!! to have :) #AND THEN I USED ALL MY DOUGH. AND I BAKED THEM. SKDBSKDBSJ #so now. lowkey stressing bc accidentally making too much dough set me back (i have now completely forgot about the cookies for the cakes) #but its ok ill hustle. i finished icing my top priority cookies. i get the transfers done so the other stores will have them too. im speedy #also. many of the cookies i baked are not iced bc i can get back to those :)) next week :)) they're extras :))))) #SO THEN. i start watching the vids about how to make the new cakes.. uh oh.. i have now remembered i was supposed to make different cookies #FINE WHATEVER ILL FIGURE IT OUT LATER!!!! I JUST WANNA GET SOME CAKES IN THE CASE TODAY!!!!!! #so i started making the batter right. i figured. i rush and get them baked. then ill go on break. then ill come back and decorate #UH OH AGAIN!!!!! local idiot forgot smth else. we dont use eggs we make a flax mixture as a sub for eggs #the flax and water has to sit for at least!!!!! 30 min!!!!! before it can be put in the batter!!!!!!! #i shouldve done that first thing in the morning!!!!!! i forgot tho!!!!!!!! #so :) now im on break. the flax is sitting. im hoping i can whip out at least 2 cakes to be ready today #lowkey considering staying late to get it done if i have to... but i don't want to give them the impression that im that super dedicated #bc im not :) like i wanna make my boss happy and get the stuff i need to get done done. but do NOT expect me to stay late regularly #anyway gonna eat my sad pb&j in my car lunch now ❤ #she was a baker girl

[miharuhebinata]

OK WAIT INSANE 6 AM RAMBLE INCOMING THAT IS ALSO SORT OF(?) RELATED TO MY PREVIOUS POST?? ok so like, we've all pretty much convinced ourselves that will is going to have a coming out scene at some point in volume 2, right? or at the very least we've convinced ourselves that he's going to confess his feelings to mike, even if he just strongly hints at it & never says it outright. basically my point is that everyone (and by everyone i mean those of us on tumblr & also what i would assume to be a large chunk of the general audience, maybe?), a lot of our focus has been fixated solely on will. not entirely ofc, but for the most part. but what if it's all been a red herring this whole time? not that he's gay, because obviously he is. but what if, just hear me out, WHAT IF. this whole time the big reveal that we've been building up to isn't that will is gay (& in love with mike), but that mike is gay (&, presumably, in love with will)????? 😮🤯😮🤯

( ...... yes i know i sound insane, especially in the tags, but once you think about it a bit? & when you're sleep-deprived?? idk man, it kinda starts to make some sense 👀🤔🔍 )

#plus this idea would work perfectly with the idea of will becoming a bigger part of the plot again either in vol 2 or season 5?? #like aside from those that are just the dumbest most heteronormative motherfuckers alive the audience already knows he's in love with mike. #we don't necessarily need textual &/or verbal confirmation to come to that conclusion #(although it would be nice if only so those aforementioned heteronormative weirdos would never be able to deny it without #actively burying their heads in the sand & looking stupid). you know who's side we DO still need to see though? mike's. #we still have yet to get a good look at what's going on inside his head. who knows what thoughts are rolling around in there? #remember his character is supposed to have some big emotional monologue coming up soon. could it be a sweeping declaration of love toward #el? yeah ofc. but the point is at this moment we really have zero clue for sure! it could just as easily be a coming out scene ya know? #& to get back to my point about this working well with the idea of will getting mixed up in actual plot. well since we already know how he #feels they could have his character focus more on that meanwhile mike becomes a bit more introspective. #how should he tell will? *can* he tell will? is it worth it? what about their friendship? it's such a hugely monumental thing to have to #deal with. is he even ready? how are you supposed to know if you're ready? #.....ok i'm legit making myself emotional now. time to pack it in girlies #i can already tell i'm gonna be so embarrassed rereading this when i wake up but i promise i won't delete 😩😭 #anyway hope you all enjoyed my insane wishful thinking <33333 #mike wheeler #will byers #p: the best thing i've ever done #stranger things #st spoilers #📺 tag #send tweet

[tender-rosiey]

1am thoughts, thinking about Gojo introducing kid Megumi to his newborn baby and Megumi being protective of them and even calling them his little sister/brother at one point and gojo is running LAPS he's just overwhelmed and happy over a small yet powerful phrase.

to protect — gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: this is so cute i am gonna cry also megumi is like 11-12 here

you’re finally back home, after a long day at the hospital. you’re finally engulfed in the comfort of your bed while your husband is still sat up with his little girl bundled in his arms.

he hasn’t let go of her since you have been discharged.

“’toru, honey, you have to sleep soon; you can hold her tomorrow,” you sleepily murmur to your husband.

he nods and whispers, “I know. It’s just I—I can’t believe it’s real,” he kisses her forehead softly, “that she is finally here, our little princess.”

a tired smile makes its way to your lips. you hum in understanding, gently caressing his cheek. he sighs happily, before looking at you, “but you, missy, actually need to rest. you’ve had a long day.”

you frown and he chuckles, and his hand moves to stroke your hair, “rest, pretty. you were a champion today,” you move to nuzzle closer to his side and your arm wraps around his torso.

and so his little girl is comfortably nestled in one of his arms, while the other is wrapped around you so his hand can pet your head lovingly.

satoru truly feels like he is holding the world in his hands right now.

suddenly, the door slowly creaks open and a very familiar face peaks from it. satoru chuckles, “come in, megumi; they’re both asleep anyway.”

the boy carefully pads his way to gojo.

he is so used to seeing him being all goofy and unserious, so it catches him a bit off-guard how serene and quiet he is being right now. megumi looks at the sleeping baby then whispers, “what’s her name?”

“d/n,” satoru answers fondly.

megumi nods then observes her for a small while, “she really is a perfect mix between the both of you.”

a soft and quiet laugh escapes satoru’s lips, “you’re right,” he looks up at megumi with a grin, “you wanna hold her?”

the boy is taken back and his expression betrays him as nervousness takes over his face. his eyes don’t leave the girl and his gaze is more than troubled, “…what if I hurt her?”

satoru shakes his head, “you scared? she is my daughter; she is the strongest baby ever,” he grins, “no one can hurt her.”

megumi rolls his eyes, but quickly directs his focus to the little girl. he takes a moment, before he extends his arms. satoru gently places her in his arms. megumi’s hold on her is protective, and he doesn’t look as awkward as satoru thought he would.

actually, he is quite the natural.

he gently rocks her, and he can’t help but smile at her sleeping face. megumi whispers to her, “hi there.”

she coos at him, and starts swaying his arms around. she slowly opens her eyes, and a tiny smile appears on her chubby face. megumi’s eyes widen a little, and he immediately looks at gojo, “she is smiling.”

satoru laughs, “she is a very smiley baby, but i think she likes you a lot. she only smiled at y/n and me,” he feels you stir a bit in your sleep.

he pulls you closer and rubs your shoulder then he giggles at how quickly you fall back asleep. while satoru is occupied by you, megumi is staring in awe at little miss gojo.

later, satoru wakes up in the middle of the night to check on his little girl in the adjacent room. he groggily gets up, after kissing your forehead. he walks there, and when he finally reaches the room, he notices the lights are already on, and the door is left a bit open.

he peaks a little into the room, and sees megumi standing by the crib. he is fondly looking at d/n, and gently petting her head. he is whispering something to her, but satoru is still able to hear it all the same.

“don’t grow up to be annoying like your dad, please.”

satoru scowls, and contemplates bursting into the room, and bullying the hell out of megumi. however, he ultimately decides against it. he doesn’t end up regretting the decision.

megumi gently boops her nose, “you’re like a little sister to me now, so I promise to protect you.”

she squeals and makes grabby hands at him, and he chuckles, “you believe me, huh?”

satoru slowly backs away from the door and walks away. when he is a safe distance from the door, he starts running and bursts into your shared room.

he dramatically falls to the ground, “that was… the cutest thing ever! after d/n and y/n’s smiles, of course.”

he stands up, proudly. his heart is at ease as he now knows that there is yet another person to look after his baby girl, if something happens. a content grin is on his face as he enjoys the silence and comfort. it’s short lived, as always.

a pillow is thrown at his face, and he stumbles to the ground.

“that’s for waking me up, satoru!”

“noooo, baby, I am sorry!”

“uh—,” megumi awkwardly stands at the door, holding d/n up, “guys, she pooped.”

satoru grins, and excitedly stands up—with a camera that he got out of nowhere to take photos of her—he coos, “aww! your first shit, pretty girl? what a good girl!”

megumi places her on the changing table beside your bed. the smell of her great ‘achievement’ fills the door, and he takes the chance of gojo being distracted to run out of the room, before another nuclear explosion drops.

the girl is gleefully clapping upon seeing her dad, and he reciprocates the smile tenfold. he gently holds her feet and sways them slightly, “such a big girl, already pooping!”

“want daddy to change your diapers for you?” he coos and the girl just puts her thumb in her mouth and starts kicking her feet. he chuckles and slowly opens the diaper. he is met with the vilest smell, and he can’t believe his sweet daughter can produce such smells.

however, he quickly composes himself, and tries to make his way through the travail of changing the diaper. he proves to be too weak because he, after a moment, looks at you, “uh, babe, teamwork makes the dream work?”

you groan, falling back to the bed.

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