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#but it might be more work than i want to put into it

all-purpose-dish-soap · 3 days

Note

ok, i know it’s not may any more, but could we please have more mer au. ghost preferably, i just want to shake him around in a bag like that one little girl from finding nemo.

hands you a carnival prize plastic bag with a goldfish-sized mer Ghost inside. feed him twice a day. plastic shipwreck not included. he might look lonely but don't let him convince you to put your fingers in the bowl :)

take the first half of this thing too:

36 / 1k / shark mer Ghost tolerating remora mer reader

...

Ghost doesn’t look back at you as you swim meekly after him. You have to whip your smaller tail twice as fast just to keep up, and you're getting winded already. He makes it look so easy to glide through the water.

"What now?" he mutters.

"Nothing. I didn't say anything."

“You’re thinking it.”

"I was just--" A huge yawn overtakes your reply. You sink in the water for a moment, scrunching your eyes closed, before huffing and darting after him again. "--Just going this way, too."

He knows you've been following behind him since dusk. You should’ve given up some time ago, but you never learn. He slows imperceptibly, just long enough for your catatonic ass to catch up, and then veers to the side so that you--rubbing your eyes with sleep--bump into him. You rest your hand against his tail instinctively and stick to him with the suction pads on your palm.

Satisfied having you in tow, he speeds back up. "You’re not a very good liar, sweetheart."

You mumble under your breath and hand-climb up his back until you're nestled between his shoulder blades instead.

Lazy little thing. Pain in his ass.

Despite grumbling, he does nothing to dislodge you from your spot. You seem to be having a difficult day, and he’s primed to make it worse. You’re the perfect target. When he has the energy--like now, at night--bullying you is his small pleasure of choice.

Then again, he can feel the way you’re pressing up against him, small and clingy and cute as hell. It takes all his willpower not to roll over and stow you against his chest instead.

You remain blissfully unaware of his inner turmoil. You’re more concerned about the emptiness in your stomach.

"You're going hunting, right?" you mumble against his shoulder.

“Trying to,” he says.

You’ve been tagging along on hunts for days, but you haven’t managed to snag any good scraps in a long while. But maybe tonight, when it’s just you and Ghost. "Mkay."

He keeps waiting for you to get in the way and then pout when he inevitably brushes you off. Instead, you’re silent. It’s bugging him.

Then, scanning the coral, he catches sight of a perfectly tasty-looking snapper. He puts your attitude out of his mind and instead tenses up to begin his hunt. You’re with him, so why worry. Watch and learn.

You peer past his shoulder curiously to see him work. His back muscles tense and shift as his eyes track every one of the fish’s movements. Then he bolts forward faster than the fish can dart away. It whips around in reflexive panic right as he snatches it in one fluid movement.

You watch over his shoulder as he kills it with a practical snap of the spine and begins to disassemble the creature piece by piece, eating the flesh and letting the bones and fins fall to the ocean floor below.

His focus is intense: attention trained on the task, his fingers work as precisely to strip flesh from bone as his jaw works on shredding the pieces of snapper he tears off into his mouth. The muscles in his shoulders ripple beneath your coiled-up body. As always, he moves with efficiency and a certain brutal grace, never wasting a single movement. It's the lethal behavior of a predator, yes, but falling into the repetitive, methodical habit seems to satisfy him.

You unfasten yourself from his back while he's absorbed in his task. The bones and bits of uneaten flesh sinking to seafloor have your interest. You swim after them.

“Don’t go far,” he warns after you. He’s not worried. There’s nowhere you could venture out here that he couldn’t find you within minutes.

You collect the scraps and eat what you can--mostly skin and fins, and they leave you feeling almost as hungry, but you're used to it. Ghost needs the food more than you do, anyway. You glide lazily over the sea floor to comb the sand with your fingers in hopes of finding another snack. Maybe a snail. A crab if you're lucky.

The search leads you to the edge of a long sandbar. It’s about a thousand minnow-lengths at its widest, and there are various shells and bits of debris scattered across the surface. You start to prowl the sandy floor for food, fingers stirring up soft sand into the water.

Ghost’s voice calls out somewhere behind you, but your exhausted brain isn't as reactive as it should be. If you could just find one or two more bites to eat, you think. You tug what looks like a crab carapace out of the sand, but it's just a strawberry-colored plastic bottle. You keep searching. Keep finding nothing of value. You come across a pile of barnacles, shards of coral, small rocks, a stray fishing lure you gnaw on just to be sure...

But no, nothing worth eating.

Your stomach rumbles again. You’re too tired and unfocused. Your movements are slow and clumsy, your senses dulled. You barely hear a sound until a hand comes down on your tail from behind and grabs you.

You jerk and dart away in surprise.

Your movement wrenches a sound from Ghost--a gruff huff of annoyance as he lunges after you. You're fast, but not fast enough. He catches your tail again immediately, dragging you back into his control.

"Idiot," he scolds. "I told you not to go far. If I had been a predator, you'd be dead meat right now."

You relax into his grip instantly. "Oh. Yeah."

He looks at you in that unamused way that says of course I was right. He looks you over with a critical eye. Your eyes are half-open and your muscles are slack. You must be exhausted.

He turns and heads for home with you still in hand. "Right, then."

You see what's happening and wriggle in his grip, hunger gnawing at you again. "Wait, aren't you hunting?"

"No." He's quick and harsh with his response. He doesn't appreciate unnecessary questions. "You're going home. Hunting can wait."

…

[part 1] / part 2

more mer au / more Ghost / masterlist tag

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pupyuj · 2 days

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the other nonie request…

now i miss big dick wony too :(

i need to be manhandle by her

remember this monumental day in diveland??? YEAH... WE FORGOT ABOUT THIS TOO QUICKLY, LET'S BRING IT BACK!!

rich bossy wony who likes to toy with you—her witty, annoying roommate who has quite the reputation as jang wonyoung’s personal… COMO SE DICE… pet! 🤭🤭 no literally bcs she could force you to wear a collar with her initials dangling in the middle for a day and you wouldn’t have a choice but to do it bcs she makes up for it with mind-blowing sex anyway 😵‍💫 she’s almost like a sugar mommy?? except that the only things she wants to spoil you with are lingerie and slutty clothes that she wants you to put on solely so she can rip them off of you 😭 and all you need to do to pay all that back is spread your legs and be a good girl for her :33

she does not gaf about you at all unfortunately! the only thing you’re good for in her eyes is sex and you know what, you’re fine with that bcs you also couldn’t care for her grumpy ass even if you tried! and all this animosity leads to a lot of hate sex 😭 like oh you’re not reciprocating her advances bcs you got shit to do?? nuh uh, that’s not allowed! you got home late and thus made wonyoung wait?? unacceptable! she rarely kisses you already and if you mess up it's all bites and stinging words... but you wouldn't say that you didn't like them of course 😋

probably loves it better if you turn out to have long hair bcs wony can just drag you around that away if she can't get you to wear those cute leashes that she spends her hard-earned money on just for you 🫣 nothing satisfies her ears more than hearing you wince or whine in pain whenever she just casually reaches over and pull your hair, sometimes even mockingly commending you for keeping it so healthy just for her 😣 it was definitely one of her main ways of getting her aggression out... other than fucking you senseless of course! she would see you stumbling about in the apartment drunk as hell at two-thirty in the morning and she wouldn't waste any time yelling profanities and degrading things to your face before dragging you to her bedroom by your hair bcs you couldn't keep your wasted ass mouth shut 😣😣

something better than completely tearing your clothes off of you is ruining them.. but still letting you wear them 😝 wonyoung likes the sight of your pretty little cotton candy pink blouse ripped open and missing a few buttons, your tights moderately ruined and your lingerie just barely pulled down to your knees while she has you bent over her bed taking her cock like the obedient living fleshlight that she molded you to be! 🫢 she enjoys it when you scream and moan her name freely in the air, loves it better when you try to move away from her just get some sense of control in the situation but eventually failing and just letting her use you... and sometimes she might even be successful in getting you to work yourself on her cock, sitting back and watching as you thrust yourself backwards into her..

AND THE MANHANDLING SO TRUEEEE wony might not look like it but she's freakishly strong 😭 most of the time when you're fucking, she really just does everything! even when she puts you in a position where you'd be on top, like cowgirl, she'd be holding your hips tightly and controlling your pace,, watching you fall apart above her brings her more pleasure than shooting her load inside your womb sometimes!

literally pretends that you don't exist on campus but as soon as she closes the door of your apartment she sticks to your side the entire day and you would see it as a thing if she wasn't constantly humiliating you in your ear and leaving reckless marks all over your body while making you cum all fucking night! wonyoung doesn't ever want to admit it but she's so fucking obsessed with you in the most disrespectful way possible 🤭

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kinopio-writes · 3 days

Text

HH Characters x Physically Affectionate!Reader (Pt.2)

A/N: The last part. Enjoy, lol.

Bonus character: Zestial!

Warnings: Mention of sex on Adam’s and Vox’s part, but nothing explicit

———

Sir Pentious

• he’s not used to it and is uncomfortable with it (he makes a weird face every time you touch him)

• he’ll be fine after you two become close, though

• but don’t try to overdo it

• if he likes you romantically, however, he blushes crazy every time you touch him

• he doesn’t really have a favorite one

• he turns red no matter what

• and his love language (receiving end) is more about words of affirmation, anyway

———

Lucifer

• if you’re together with Lucifer, he’s likely smitten with you, so he becomes really giddy whenever you give him affection

• he probably starts stimming (doing little kicks or squealing)

• this guy loves to be held a lot

• oh, but he loves it when you nuzzle into him

• his favorite is forehead touching

• it’s really tender and he melts at that type of affection

———

Adam

• usually, every time you touch him, he’ll think that you want to fuck

• so he’s fucking confused whenever you don’t escalate any further than a kiss

• he does that thing where even when you pull away, he’s still leaning toward you, eyes fluttering

• he’ll probably get used to it

• his favorite is when you just cling to him

• if you’re not short enough to do that, he loves it when you just put your head on top of his while you two are curling up on the couch (he finds it cute)

• he also loves getting massages from you

———

Lute

• she’s not affectionate in general nor is she a fan of it

• so if she’s not that close to you, you better back the fuck up ’cause she’s going to take that as a genuine attack

• it’s worse if you do it out of nowhere (seriously, you will end up with a broken arm)

• but, if you two are sort of close and she’s used to your affections, she’s aloof to it all

• she will even start to initiate them herself unknowingly

• it’s because she mirrors the people she likes, which is not a lot, lol (everyone does this—I think—but Lute’s just more noticeable)

• back rubs are her favorite (not full-on massages, though, just a little rub after she got done training or something)

• she might like head pats, too (she feels praised whenever you do it. This works exceptionally well if you’re taller than her)

———

Vox

• he’s not that physically affectionate

• unless it’s sexual

• he’d be pretty weirded out if you just wanted to hold hands or something

• but after he gets used to it, he becomes nonchalant about it

• he’ll start grabbing your hand on his own accord (it becomes instinctive)

• he’s fine with PDA, but don’t try to be all lovey-dovey when he’s in conversation or dealing with someone else

• his favorite is when you two are just snuggled up on the couch doing your own separate thing

———

Zestial

• I added him in because I wanted it to be even

• anyway, he’s more hand-kissing and linking arms type of gentleman

• and the most he’ll do in public is link arms

• he thinks displays of affection should be private

• even then, he’s not that physically affectionate

• he doesn’t have a favorite, but considering that he’s cold-blooded, he quite likes it when you snuggle onto him and make him warm (this only works well if you’re just as tall as him, lol)

———

This was relaxing to do. I’ll likely write more stuff like this in the future whenever I feel unmotivated to write.

The next three requests I’m going to post at a much later date will probably suck ass. Sorry to the ones who send those in. And for making you wait a long time as well. If they even remember…

My favorite ones to write from the two posts were…mostly everyone! These were so fun to write. I sort of had a writer panic midway, but it was still fun. It’s probably because I used too many parentheses and it bothered me or something.

#hazbin hotel x reader #sir pentious x reader #lucifer x reader #adam x reader #lute x reader #vox x reader #zestial x reader #hazbin hotel sir pentious #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel lute #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel zestial #kinopiowrites

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lilithgreye · 2 days

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Astro Notes by Greye

readings for sale -> here

Aquarius placements get a rep for being emotionless but are often quite sensitive but just really good at hiding their emotions

It’s not as commonly talked about as Leo placements but Libra/7h placements make amazing actors as well — example: zendaya is a 7h sun in western astrology

Asteroids in astrology are important but your regular natal chart planets, houses, aspects, degrees, and signs will tell you the most about your life and self

8h Venus' have the deepest most unconditional love for people. It doesn’t matter what someone does to them they will still have care for them and want the best for them no matter how toxic. They genuinely can’t help it

People with their North Node in the 12th house may experience lots of periods of isolation throughout their life

If you dream of dating your celebrity crush and have a Libra/Leo Sun, 5h/7h Sun, 5h/10h Venus, Venus at 5°/17°/29° or Sun to Venus aspects there is a possibility it could happen. Don’t lose hope — example: hailey bieber’s venus at 29°

I personally haven’t seen many same sign couples last long term. Not sure why

I’ve never met someone with Chiron in the 4th/8th/12th house that’s had an easy life. These people tend to struggle a lot emotionally and be very misunderstood by society/people in general. Even people who have known them for years

Your North Node isn’t your purpose alone it’s your potential. You have the choice to fulfill it or not. If you don’t you will reincarnate over and over until you do

Having more square/oppositions than trines/sextiles doesn’t make you a bad person. I’ve seen some people say this and I find it odd. Squares show obstacles we endure and oppositions show tensions/confusions we face in our life but just like Mars and Saturn energy they’re not inherently “bad” as these challenges can help you grow and you can turn them into positive energy if you choose to work through them properly

You’ll often be more attracted to the energy of the opposite sign of your 7th house than the 7h sign itself — example: if your 7h is in the sign sagittarius you might actually be attracted to gemini energy more often

The house your Sun is in can show you where you’re meant to shine and be successful — example: Sun in the 7th house can mean being successful in the arts or having lots of romantic relationships and ending up in a happy marriage one day

Your 2nd house sign can tell you what’s most important for you to value in this life — example: if you have your 2h in the sign cancer then you should value your empathy/emotions and use it for good

Neptune is associated with nostalgia. People with placements like Neptune in the 1st house or 3rd house may struggle a lot with nostalgia and remembering certain memories better than they actually were

People with a water sun and libra moon are usually extremely musically talented in some way — examples: ariana grande, justin bieber, madison beer, olivia rodrigo

Most same (sun) sign couples never work out in the long run. Same moon sign couples (especially in sidereal) are more likely to last

The 12th house is associated with catfishing because it’s the house of illusion and impersonations. Lots of people who have gotten catfished (long term) before usually have Mercury or Uranus in the 12th house for this reason

Mars can tell how you are in the bedroom — example: a Virgo mars will please you a lot since the sign is associated with acts of service. They’re definitely the type to make you finish first

Someone with lots of Libra energy in their chart will often hold grudges because they seek harmony and when someone brings lots of negativity to their life it’s unlikely they’ll put up with it long term contrary to the popular “people pleaser” reputation

I’ve personally noticed Capricorn Venus’ always make the best love songs

Check Mercury/Uranus’ house for insight on what you should post on social media to become more famous — example: mercury/uranus in the 10h could mean you can pretty much become famous from any type of video, mercury/uranus in the 7h could mean becoming famous from fashion/beauty/dancing/art videos or from posting with your romantic partner online, etc

Leo’s usually always have 3 or more children unless they’re infertile

Everyone talks about how Capricorn/Aquarius placements can show delays but Taurus placements can as well as the sign is associated with slowness. example — a taurus ascendant may glow up later than most (i’ve noticed this seems to be more true in my sidereal chart than western though)

Aries Venus’ do fall for people quickly but they can also move on very fast if you hurt them a lot. They hold grudges

A lot of Cancer’s have toxic relationships with Leo’s. Not sure why

Saturn is actually a planet that can give insight our job as well but not many people talk about it. It is the planet of “work”. example — saturn in the 2nd house can indicate being a singer, accountant, chef/baker, model, fashion designer, etc

Venus at 2° can indicate gaining wealth slowly over time. Most of these people gain wealth sometime in their late 20’s - 40’s

People with Venus to Jupiter aspects often end up being wealthy in life. Especially when it’s trine or square I’ve noticed

The house the Moon or Neptune is in can show where you have the most influence over others. example — moon in 5th house can indicate being a very influential actor

Everyone talks about Saturn in the 7th house being a bad placement but I think it’s very beneficial in the long run. Pluto in the 7th house is the real challenge. They often experience more toxic relationships than any other placement I’ve noticed

Aquarius Midheaven’s do NOT like 9-5 jobs. They hate being bossed around and often are more successful in careers where they have freedom and can share their own ideas with the world rather than be an employee

Leo Venus’ (and Leo placements in general) love very hard. It’s why the body part Leo is associated with is the heart

Gemini Ascendant’s will NOT marry someone who isn’t making them consistently laugh their ass off or who is too serious

Pisces placements are often great friends and really good at understanding people

Leo placements are known for being loyal but I actually find that they’re only loyal to the people in their circle not people outside of it that they’re not super close with

Cancer Saturn’s are very likely to spiral into a depression if they can’t let go of their past

I’ve noticed a lot Taurus Mars will apologize and then continuously do the thing they apologized for without changing

Aries stelliums are the biggest daredevils. They often love amusement parks and will ride all the scariest rides

Libra/7h Moons can make a lot of money from acting in romance films — example: leonardo dicaprio in the titanic

Juno in the 7h/8h is a green flag. These people tend to be very loyal partners

Sagittarius/Pisces actually have the bigger egos since they’re ruled by Jupiter the planet of abundance and the Sun represents the ego. Abundance of ego

Your solar return charts can tell about annual themes/energy, your lunar return charts can tell about monthly themes/energy, and your transits can tell about daily themes/energy

Mars/Pluto can show the things people tend to envy about us — example: people with mars/pluto in the 5h/7h should make sure they pick a very loyal partner because they tend to attract home-wreckers that try to ruin their relationships more than anyone else

People with Mars in the 7th house are always fruity. Like I don’t think I’ve met someone with this placement that isn’t at least bi

Libra/7h moons will legit move to a different location to be with the person they’re in love with. They love very deeply

Aries moons got anger issues for days but they’re really good friends to have because they won’t be the type to stay quiet when someone says something mean about you. They’re ride or die for their friends

Leo Jupiter’s (especially in sidereal) tend to have such amazing acting talent that people forget they’re watching a film instead of a real life tape

Capricorn placements often have the reputation of being hard workers but let’s talk about Aries placements. When they want something they will have it. They never give up, their ambition is insane

#astrology notes #astro notes #astrology #astrology blog #astrology chart #birth chart #astrology community #astro community

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imaroyalburneraccount · 3 days

Text

Past, present, future

a/n: well, writing creativity hits me at the worst times. Including when I have a concussion! This one is for my silly moot @fortheb0ys

Minors DNI

Phillip was stressed. If stressed was even the right word. He was tired, and bored, and yet constantly busy busy busy. It was starting to make his head swirl so damn much that he decided to toss off his work and jobs to his poor second in command and go back to his little home town in the middle of nowhere Texas

He wasn’t there to see family, hell no. He had put his parents in a retirement home in Dallas years and years ago. He was going just to fish where he used to fish and enjoy how little that town changes- as if time was slowed there. He pulled up to his hotel happy as a clam and practically running to the local bar, enjoying as many drinks as he wanted to calm down, until he saw you walk in. Oh fuck

he hadn’t seen you since high school, since he left the whole backwater town to try his luck in the military, and told you by note. By note! He really did regret that now, how he had probably shattered you. Sure you two never ‘dated’, his parents would have slaughtered him for something like dating a man- but you two sure did everything a couple could. Nights spent together hidden away in a camping tent, secret kisses and hickeys littering him in the morning… he had really felt like shit having the nerve to show up here now, feeling wheezy and sick to his stomach.

he sat nervously next to you at the bar, letting you look him up and down as he drank a shot of whiskey, then two, then three. And a conversation started between you, about how your lives had ended up and how you’d stayed in the little country town and definitely flourished- calloused hands and well built figure filling in where you once were younger and softer, and the more he drank the more comfortable he felt around you, chuckling at your jokes and leaning into you as if he was head over heals again.

Four shots, five shots, six,

he was feeling real sick now, he wasn’t a lightweight by any means. But he had definitely lost track and gone above any standard he usually had. He felt Ick all over, barely wanting to walk out the door let alone leave you and go to his hotel- not that he could walk that far in the state he was in. He needed you in more ways than one, so he begged you pathetically to carry you home. Your grip and warmth grounded him enough that he got a grip while you carried him, softly nuzzling into your chest and hoping you’d stay just a little longer and indulge him just a bit more.

he didn’t deserve you, he knew that. You were his a long time ago and he had royally fucked up- but he missed everything about you, every little detail was making his mind spin with old memories he had thought he had forgotten. He let you carry him into your house without a single protest- too in bliss and too drunk to bother you with the idea of carrying him back to his shitty hotel, especially when your house smelt of your cologne and safety.

he almost melted in your bed; whining and pulling you next to him before utterly dozing off, and clinging to you as if you would disappear if he let go

he woke up with an utterly pounding headache and a hangover worse then death himself- sitting up with a groan before remembering where he was, and that he was in your jacket from the bar… he has definitely made a fool of himself in front of you. But he supposed it was better then being alone in your apartment- he laid practically on top of you, feeling your even breathing as you slept. He had missed the feeling of being oh so close to you, but he still wanted to be closer- okay sure, it might be a bit wrong but he couldn’t help himself but kiss down your neck softly, his hands wondering and his body slipping down a bit, in no hurry to wake you up- just wanting to feel you.

he mouthed at your boxers a bit, shaking you awake enough to get a groan out of you and a tired nod as you tossed your head back on the pillow tiredly, still half asleep as he tugged your boxers down your legs and wrapped his pretty lips around your cock-head, taking you inch by inch slowly and choking a bit until he had every inch in his mouth, little gasps coming out of his stretched lips as he breathed you in, tears and spit dribbling down his face. He was focused on solely you, only little grinds of his hips against your leg giving himself physical pleasure

he hummed softly at the feeling of your hand grasping in his hair, before getting thrown off rhythm at a rough tug from you, pulling him off- a small drop of pre-cum and spit connecting his lips and your soaked member before you forced him back all the way down. You had gotten a lot rougher, and it felt so so good to be gasping as those big blue eyes of his poured with tears- looking like a mess. But he was your mess again. Yours.

he choked and gagged every so often, but worked you up until you were grasping his shoulders tight enough to bruise, painting his throat white as he swallowed every drop down, cumming in his own pants untouched before he pulled himself away and rolled beside you

“missed you, sugar.” Was all he could mutter as he caught his breath

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marzipanandminutiae · 2 days

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Hi, this is a bit of a shot in the dark on my end, but I have a fashion inquiry (and I apologize if I sound ridiculous at all; I’m a bit at my wit’s end).

Is there a good way to research forms of casual Victorian garb? I feel like I’m going a bad route by inserting the word ‘Victorian’ into any search because it results in rather fancy things (or modern twists on such that are purchasable). Would it be wiser to site dates in search? Is this going to fruitless?

Sorry for taking up any time if this is out of wheelhouse. But if you do answer, I really appreciate it.

I'll do my best! Focusing on womenswear, because...well, that's what I know best. But if anyone wants to chime in about the gentlemen, please do so!

So, casual Victorian doesn't always read as Casual to us nowadays. Standards of casual clothing- that is, clothing one wears for everyday life when nothing special is going on -were rather higher than we have today.

This is an illustration of matchstick-makers in London's East End c. 1871, done by one Herbert Johnson. The women have their sleeves rolled up and aprons on, but when they leave the factory (rolling their sleeves down, adding hats to go outside- which most of them would have done; it was part of looking Respectable) they might be indistinguishable to us from any other women of the same era wearing not particularly bustle-y skirts. Some of them probably have on the commonplace Matching Skirt And Bodice dress format of the era; others have on blouses made from the same patterns as those worn by middle- and upper-class women.

Also note that they have on ribbons, chokers, earrings...they're just like us. They like wearing things that make them feel Put Together, even though they're doing one of the lowest-valued, most dangerous jobs open to women at the time. Because people have always been people, regardless of time or social class.

And for middle-class women and up, Casual might be even harder to distinguish from "fancy" to us today.

This is a mid-late 1880s day dress with a skirt length suitable for lots of walking, from Augusta Auctions. Could not tell you the social status of the woman who owned it, genuinely. Probably not the absolute poorest of the poor, but beyond that...this is a dress you could potentially wear to run errands. Even to go to work, if your job wasn't especially physical. Because. I don't know. It's a Day Dress. You wear it for day things. It's not especially formal, because then it would be made of a more delicate material and probably have a longer skirt (unless it was a Serious Dancing ball gown). Possibly also a lower neckline and puffed sleeves, if it was exclusively for the most formal events.

The idea that a dress was "fancy" just because it had ornamentation wasn't really in their cultural vocabulary.

Here is a group of women playing croquet in what looks like the early-mid 1870s. They're just hanging out! Having a good time! They're probably middle or upper class, but that's what they wear to chill outside with friends- to play a lowkey sport, even.

So yeah, it can be hard to map Victorian everyday clothing onto our "jeans and t-shirt" understanding of what makes an outfit casual. They had skirts and blouses for most relevant decades, but even those outfits often end up looking formal to us nowadays because of what I call Ballgownification- the idea that, since we only wear clothes that look even vaguely like what they had for extremely dressy occasions, we assume everything we see of their clothing was dressy.

(Someone please ask for my rant about Ballgownification)

Searching for "day dress," "walking dress," "blouse," "blouse waist," and "shirtwaist" (the last for the late 19th-early 20th century when that term became commonplace) might help. Best of luck!

#victorian #history #fashion history #dress history #clothing history #ask #madsk3tch #even just Throwing Something On looks dressy if all you have to throw on is. that.#I make a lot of my clothes from extant patterns and people comment on how dressed-up and put together I look #which is very kind but. these are magazine patterns. anyone had access to them #and I often even take off some of the recommended trims no less #a casual blouse waist from 1869 looks quite dressy to a modern audience #long post

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worksby-d · 2 days

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Getting Attached

Pairing: dilf!Andy Barber x babysitter!Reader

Summary: Your friend finds out you've been hooking up with Andy and reminds you that if he's not in it for the long haul, you need to cut it off before you get hurt. Lucky for you, Andy might just be on the same page.

Warnings: Age gap, starting to admit feelingssss, flashback in italics

Word count: ~1,100

a/n: *taps mic* is anyone still out there? 👁️👁️

part one • part two

Andy hums against your lips when he feels you move your hands from his face and gently push them against his chest. “Hm?”

Not breaking the kiss to respond, your words come out mumbled. “Let me be on top.”

But he understands you perfectly. His breath is warm against your cheek as he pulls away slightly, laughing before rolling over and bringing you with him so you're straddling his waist, hovering above him.

Your lips return to his like a magnet. You've hooked up with him enough times now that neither of you are in a desperate rush this time, just sharing slow kisses as you press your hips closer to his.

His warm hands running up and down your exposed back send a wave of goosebumps across your skin.

“Why am I always the first one with my shirt off?” You whisper.

Your fingers fumble with the buttons on his, groaning in frustration when you can't get the third one undone.

“You gotta stop wearing these button-ups.”

“Bossy tonight,” he tsks, moving his kisses toward your neck as he takes over unbuttoning his shirt for you.

When he nips playfully at your skin, his teeth graze against a spot that's sensitive from the other night.

It reminds you of the conversation you had with your friend yesterday… She found out you’ve been doing more than just babysitting at Andy’s house.

You moan softly, but pull away.

There's a pause when you look in his eyes.

His smile falters a bit. “What's wrong?”

“I need to talk to you about something.” Your voice is quiet until you try to be stern with your next sentence. “And I need you not to laugh at me.”

He chuckles, moving to sit up a bit so you don't have to awkwardly talk looking down at him.

“My best friend found out I've been seeing you…”

Your voice trails off as you think back to it.

“Why are you still wearing that?” She teasingly tugged at the winter scarf you hadn't taken off yet as you sat down to each lunch with her. “It's like a sauna in here–”

She gasped, bringing a hand up over her mouth when she saw the mark on your neck and put the scarf back in place.

“Who gave that to you?” She whisper yelled. “Fuck, don't tell me you got back with–”

“No,” you said quickly, glaring at her for thinking you'd ever go back to the guy whose name you knew she was gonna say.

When that wasn't it, it wasn't hard for her to figure it out by process of elimination.

“All you do is work and babysit… Who could you possibly–”

Another gasp had you rolling your eyes, but you couldn't help but look guilty.

“The dad?!”

“Shhhh,” You looked around to make sure no one was listening. “So what?”

“So what?” She scoffed. “He's married.”

“Separated,” you corrected her.

It was her turn to roll her eyes. “What about the fact he's basically old enough to be your dad?”

You shrugged, shaking your head at her. “It's not like I set out to get with him. It just kind of happened.”

She looked amused by you trying to defend yourself.

“What, you just accidentally stumbled into his bed?”

“If you must know, the first time wasn't even in his bed, so,” you shrugged, taking a sip of your coffee.

“Ew,” she chuckled. “I don't even want to know.” Her look of disgust faded and she got more serious. “May I remind you that you don't do hookups? You get attached.”

“I do not,” you scoffed.

She didn't bother arguing. She knew she was right and that you knew she was too.

“You're gonna get hurt if he's just using you as a temporary bed buddy.”

She knew she got through to you when a moment of silence washed over the two of you.

Your mind was wandering when she decided to cut the tension instead of make you feel any worse.

“So the dick is that good?”

His hand squeezing your thigh pulls you out of your daydream.

“It's okay…” He assures, thinking at first that you're nervous because someone knows. “I'm not actively trying to hide you.”

“No, I know,” you chuckle. “I know. But she reminded me that I don't just hook up with people. I get attached and I get hurt. And I can feel myself liking you more every time we see each other. So as much fun as I'm having with you doing… whatever it is we're going, I can't keep doing it if you're only interested in me when we're in bed together.”

He tries to get a word in, but you're rambling at this point.

“And this is so embarrassing if that is how you feel–”

You miss the smirk on his face in your pursuit of avoiding his gaze.

“How do you know how I feel if you won't let me talk?” He teases.

“Sorry,” you laugh. “The floor is yours, Mr. Barber.”

“I like you.” He says it slowly to make sure you're listening and it's as if your body physically relaxes hearing him. “I didn't wanna come on too strong and assume you wanted anything more than…” He gestures at the position you two are in and repeats your words. “Whatever we've been doing.”

“Really?”

“Really,” he nods, holding your face to give you a quick kiss.

"So you'd take me on a date?" You raise an eyebrow, gauging whether you really are on the same page.

"I would love to take you on a date," he whispers against your lips.

Wordlessly, you sit up and climb off of him to gather your discarded shirt and the rest of your stuff.

He lets out a short laugh, confused about if he said something wrong all of a sudden.

“Where are you going?”

“Don't you listen?” You kneel back on the bed, getting teasingly close to him. “I don't sleep with guys I'm not dating.”

“We're way past that, sweetheart,” he reminds you.

You roll your eyes, getting back up. “Let me know when that first date is.”

“Then you'll sleep with me again?” He jokes.

“Depends on how good the date is,” you wink.

He tries to quickly grab you and pull you back in bed, but you're skipping out of his room yelling good night! before he can get you.

“Brat,” is what his text reads when you get home and look at your phone.

You don't think your smile can get any bigger until you see the message that follows.

“Tomorrow. 5 p.m. I'll pick you up.”

Tag list: @patzammit @thummbelina @pppsssyyyccchhhiiiccc @astheskycries @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @turtoix @harrysthiccthighss @mrspeacem1nusone @geminievans1 @doozywoozy @americasass91 @dwights-new-plague @wwwmarissa92 @redhairedfeistynerd @whxre4cevans @aubreeskailynn @melchills-j @xoxabs88xox @before-we-get-started @christowhore @ice-dtae @mariestark @rogersbarber @dilfbarber @payperhearts @vintagestarlight @miss-ariella @bemysugarbean @t-stark35 @seitmai @reginaphalange2403 @raelorns21 @mrsgweasley @pandaxnienke @brandycranby @cutedisneygrl

#i know where he takes you on the date hehehehehe #it's been four months since i last posted a fic be nice 🤧#andy barber #andy barber x reader #andy barber fanfiction #chris evans x reader #chris evans fanfiction #andy barber imagine

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saetoshis · 1 day

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Listen. Yes Hoshina is a short king. But consider. . . If he's short he's probably feeling like he's got smth to prove. Excited to bend his partner over and deill them like they insulted him. Plus then he might hit you with the 'princess' or smth of the like. Putting youbin a verbal place of power (as the taller person) while he's still doming thr fuck out of you. "How'd you let this happen, princess? Letting someone like me see this weak side of you? Were you just careless? Overly trusting? Or perhaps you underestimated me. I suppose I'll have to punish you for that." Type beat.

Anway love our beloved Hoshi thanks as always for your tasty art!

HELPME UR SO RIGHT ... NOW IM THINKING LIKE ... WHAT IF U TEASED HIM FOR BEING A LIL SHORT N THEN .. YK ...

taller!fem reader [5'7"+ 172cm+], oral m. receiving, size kink [sorta?], teasing, pet name [ princess], fingering, squirting, MDNI.

you, who got all-too-cocky because your eyes are just a bit higher in line with his, made a mistake.

vice captain hoshina is nothing if not an enigma. his silly demeanor and playful attitude about everything makes him seem so non-threatening, that you might've gotten too comfortable with teasing him and acting high and mighty. whenever he tells you what to do, maybe you'll make a little gesture with your hand above his head, reminding him who has more "power." these jokes were your mistake.

maybe he'll want to punish you - watch you kneel in front of him, his hand on your pretty head as he guides you towards the bulge in his pants. maybe he'll hum out a little, "since you wanna poke fun at height, how 'bout you try being the short one for once?"

maybe hoshina will lean back and watch you unzip his pants, taking no time to push your mouth onto his eager cock. he might even rut his hips a little, muttering out between breathy 'fuck's, "not so big now, huh? how does it feel, hm? didn't think i'd be big down there, did you?"

hoshina watches so closely as you bob your head and pump your hand, thighs keening together where you're sat all prettily on the floor. a little smirk might even tug at his lips as he realizes just how turned on you're getting from this. "what, getting all hot and bothered by this? didn't think someone shorter than you could get you all worked up? you know better, don't you?"

his words send a jolt straight through your frame and you can't help but shudder, and all of a sudden the vice captain seems so much more intimidating, even more enticing than you ever thought. it's like he can sense you losing yourself in the moment, and he's got you right where he wants you.

hoshina leans down, flashing you a smug sneer as he lifts your face to look up at him - all the while admiring the pretty sheen of your lips and your glassy eyes. "is that what i think it is? is the princess who's always mocking my height suddenly unable to resist me? the irony... how should i deal with you, hm?"

he maneuvers you to bend over against the counter, chest pressed against the cool granite as he lets his thumb drag along your clothed pussy. one hand presses your back, the other languidly slipping off your shorts and panties as he hums, "oh, what's that? a wet spot, hm? not so cocky now, aren't you?"

it takes a lot of strength to even muster thoughts, your head spinning from how lewd he's acting - it's bafflingly hot. you pant against the counter as you look back, watching his eyes flit over your hips while his finger does the same against your clit. hoshina lets out a little laugh when he watches you shudder along with a strained whine.

"feels good, doesn't it? does being put in your place turn you on? yeah?" hoshina sneers and lets out a little chuckle, swiftly slipping his fingers between your walls and curling forwards. he can't help but wear a smirk on his face as he enjoys your willing submission. "let me remind you that i'm the vice captain of the third division. the strongest second to mina. forgot that, did you?"

his sheer strength shows in each intense flick and curl of his fingers against the spot that makes your spine shudder, and it's humbling. it's when he starts simultaneously toying with your clit that you feel like you're on fire, a buzz building up between your thighs just begging for release.

"that's it... yeah, let it out. show me just how much you like it. cum all over my hand, bet you'll never act cocky again," hoshina leers under his breath, ministrations going into overdrive as you shiver and whimper shamelessly. with a voice-cracking whine, his name falls from your lips over and over as flicks of liquid smother his hand from his unrelenting movements.

"ahh, of course you squirt on top of everything..." hoshina leans over the counter to admire the dizzied expression on your face with a little grin of his own. his fingers nudge your chin as he murmurs, "felt good? yeah? you gonna be good now? don't wanna hear you trying to humble me ever again after you left such a mess all over me."

he presses a little kiss on your cheek, smirking against your skin before he shifts to your ear. with a low whisper, he mutters, "unless you wanna have me fuck you in that suit... 92% isn't a joke, you know?"

2024 SAETOSHIS. do not copy/repost.

#HSKAKKLKAKLLALALALA SO HOT #BROOAOKAKAKAKAKAKAKAKA #THANK U FOR THIS BABE OMFG #[‹ moshi : moshi? ›]#kaiju no. 8 #kaiju no. 8 smut #kn8 smut #kn8 x reader #kaiju no. 8 x reader #soshiro hoshina #hoshina soshiro #hoshina smut #hoshina x reader #hoshina soshiro x reader #hoshina soshiro smut #[‹ moshi : thirsts ›]

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ppumeonae-bigvibe · 3 days

Text

cherry on top

↖ navigation: seventeen masterlist || main masterlist

pairing: bf! seventeen ot13 x gn! reader

↬ tags: established relationship? yes!, kissing mentioned (hehe!), quite wholesome, my list my rules!, reader uses lipsticks (not implied, but a regular user of lipsticks/ tints/ gloss)

summary: seventeen buying reader lipstick!

𐙚 those who know which color suits you, even your favorite types 𐙚

ᯓ★ seungcheol, jeonghan, mingyu, myungho

the sister-havers are understandable: they have sisters for siblings so they would know a thing or two (before you jump at me, yes i do know vernon and seungkwan have sisters so hear me out); and whereas for minghao? i'm so sure my man is born a fashionista so makeup would be easy for him; and for seungcheol i think that clip of him explaining the different perfumes/ cologne is enough for me to put him here

you don't have to tell them: they would be able to pick a similar or the exact shade right off the bat just by looking at your lips; call it unexplained hidden knack or that special eye for choosing makeup products

purposely (sneakily) grabs you by the chin to kiss you full on the lips just to see how good the product works; love love loves to watch you put on makeup and would gaze at you as you went about your business

bonus if they know color theory, or suggest different shades they think might look good on you (and i'm certain it will)

"you like it?" you swiped a sheen layer of gloss on your lips, before turning to your smitten boyfriend for approval. he does a once over, smile widening at the sight of you. he pulls you in by the waist lovingly, "i like that very much. now, give me a kiss!"

"no! you're gonna ruin it!" he rolls his eyes, "i'll buy you another." he knows you couldn't resist, so before you open your mouth to retort, he yanks you towards him and captures your lips. "i'll buy you as many as you want, so long you keep letting me do this."

----

𐙚 those who has some clue and tries to buy something you like 𐙚

ᯓ★ joshua, soonyoung, jihoon, vernon, seungkwan

i know vernon has a younger sister and kwanie has sisters, but hear me out: i don't think they are that interested in makeup products at all hence they are here; for joshua because he is such a gentleman he would take pictures of your lipsticks to know which ones to get, similar for hosh and wooz i think they would make sure you're physically with them so they don't get the wrong ones

because they aren't sure of the exact type/ shade/ tint, he would make the effort to know your favorite brands and colors at least so that he could go get them when he goes out shopping for your gifts <3 !! he wants to surprise you too, and might throw in other skincare products they are more confident in getting

call it algorithm influencing, but he sometimes sees the targeted ads on your phone and makes a mental note to ask you about it

very much prefers you in your natural state, but loves it when you doll up for them/ yourself because you are beautiful in their eyes (have you seen them barefaced wts!!)

"you like this one?" he leans over, his taller frame standing out painfully in the makeup section. you nod your head, "yeah? looks good doesn't it?" you swatch another color on the back of his hands and he observes closely, "this one has sparkles in it, but it's a lot more lighter than the other other one."

"i can't decide which one to get though." you frowned the back of his hands are littered with various shades, matching yours. he shakes his head, sporting a silly grin, "it's okay! we can browse longer. let's get something you really like."

----

𐙚 those who don't know, but buys something anyways 𐙚:

ᯓ★ junhwi, wonwoo, seokmin, chan

dedicated to the brother-havers and single children: i feel that these bunch of people are the group of people who don't know much about makeup and are perhaps less interested in it as you are; might even be clueless about it

they seem like the type to ask many questions about why some products are matte or glossy or why are they so liquid-y or why has there got to be many shades (in the sweetest and non-annoying way)

very green forest behavior when they know not to mess with your makeup products and to keep them stored away neatly

call it algorithm influencing, but when he spots some makeup brand promoting items, he'd come and ask for your opinion (so that he could take you out and buy it for you uwu)

unexpectedly i think somewhat related to makeup, wonwoo or dino feels like the type to enjoy doing facials with you

"i'm not sure if you like this, but i overheard you telling your friends you were running out. thought this might make your day." his heart was beating out of his chest, but he plays it cool by gifting you a small bag. you excitedly take it from him, and he relishes in the way your eyes practically light up. looks like he bought the right one.

"oh baby, thank you!" you hug him tight and he reciprocates the gesture, an affectionate beam all over his face. "it's the one i told you about! no way! you got it!" he exhales dramatically, "anything for you my love."

@ppumeonae-bigvibe 's work ; likes and reblogs are appreciated <3

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dvrkstxrlightt · 3 days

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𝐃𝐎 𝟒 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 || Armando Aretas x F!OC (Sybil Burnett)

Pairing: Armando Aretas x Black!Female!OC (Sybil Burnett)

Summary: Sybil Burnett being the daughter of Marcus Burnett, introduced her into the world of law enforcement. She remembered when she would listen to the stories of heroism so intrigued that only ignited a fire in her. Sybil had devoted her life to the badge, and she never thought it’d ever waver. Especially not for love.

Warnings: BAD BOYS, sexual situations, angst, violence, weaponry, blood, betrayal, miscarriage, death, dark comedy, dark thoughts, cursing, minors DNI. There will be some changes to my story, different from the movie.

Word Count: 3.3K

___________

CHAPTER ONE "KEEP DREAMING"

MIAMI FLORIDA -- 2018

Music vibrated the floors, lights flashing all around as machines released fog into the air. On the dance floor the room was crowded but that hadn’t stopped anyone from having the time of their lives. Above in the balcony, the spacing being booked for whatever event someone had needed it for, on the railing leaned Armando Aretas. A beer in hand, his eyes casted over the crowd. He was an introvert. Anyone who knew him personally, which wasn’t many, knew he didn’t like to come out. But he was Miami and he wasn’t going to exactly stay inside the villa he rented the entire time he was there.

There was business he needed to attend to, clients he needed to see. And one of his cliented ended up booking the VIP section at this club, Zillion. He allowed him to socialize before he got down to the business part of the evening. Armando took his family work very seriously. All he wanted to do was make his parents proud of him, and get them to see that he could take over with no problem.

He took a sip of his drink, eyes still taking in everything around him. Observing it all for himself. It wasn’t until he eyes landed on a figure at the center of the dance floor. She danced with a girl to the music that blasted, hands in the air with her head tossed back allowing him to see her face. Eyes closed, body moving to every beat that she felt, a smile on her face clearly enjoying herself.

Armando couldn’t take his eyes off her. She completely grasped his attention with nothing but a single glance he made. He would’ve continued staring if someone had slapped him on his back followed by a voice close to his ear, “Hey! My man, are you enjoying yourself?!” Armando couldn’t stop himself from rolling his eyes, fighting himself but looking away from her.

“Not as much as you,” Armando found himself responding, turning his head back towards the crowd. Almost like a magnet he found her again, this time dancing with a guy who no doubt came up behind her. He felt heat rise up to his cheek, and couldn’t pinpoint why, or maybe didn’t want to, “Question; you know Miami almost like the back of your hand, right?” he leaned in, whispering to Carlos Guzman, his client.

He shrugged his shoulders, taking a drink from the glass in his hand, “You can say that,” Carlos answered, positioning himself in the same Armando had, forearms leaned on the rail looking down at the rest of the club, “Why? Finding yourself lost? Need more contacts?”

“I might,” Armando brought his bottle to his lips, drinking the bitter beverage, “But firstly, I want to know who she is?” he pointed directly into the ocean of bodies, the spotlight gladly passing over her and her dancing partner.

Carlos followed his pointed finger, “I don’t know everybody,” he speaks, causing Armando to look at him with a raised brow, “But you’re lucky her appearance is infamous; Sybil Burnett,” Carlos confessed with a smirk. Armando seemed pleased with that answer he got, “Beautiful, wild, a real firecracker, but…” he trailed off turning around putting his back against the balcony facing his own circle of people, “She is policia, a real famous Detective in Miami, follows in her father’s footsteps.”

Armando was shocked by this, “She looks no older than twenty five,” he voiced, not hiding his surprise very well.

A laugh came from the man to the right of him, “That’s because she is no older than twenty five,” he revealed, “I went to High School with her, she’s got a bit of a dark side, but always had a dream, and she made sure to follow through with it. She’s got me a few times but let me go and told me if she ever saw some bodies on the street that had anything to do with me and my business then she was gonna lock me up for life. I believe her.”

Armando hummed at that, not a drop of worry filling him, only more interest. He watched as she moved away from the guy, her friend that she had been dancing with prior grabbing her hand and pulling her through the crowd, towards the bar.

Carlos rearranged his positions again, this time facing Armando, “Rumor has it,” he began with a whisper but loud enough for his business partner to hear, “Her father found her on a crime scene, she had no relatives so he chose to take her in as his own. Courageous, I know. Has a bad temper, that one,” he nudged his head in the direction he imagined her to be in, “Let’s have a chat with her, shall we?”

Quickly, Armando snapped his head towards him, “Are you insane? This is a business meeting,” he reminded him, although he forgot himself.

“Yes, and now it’s a chat about a girl you’ve found interest in,” Carlos chuckled, wrapping his arm around Armando’s shoulders, “Don’t worry, we can have a proper business meeting tomorrow night. Somewhere a little quieter.” he assured him before leaning over the balcony, “Burnett!” he called out loudly causing some to look at him but to indeed grab the girls attention, along with her friend. Her eyes looked up towards them, causing Armando to subtly look away. She nodded her head in a what's up motion, “Come have a drink with us! I want to introduce you to a friend of mine!”

She rolled her eyes, turning back to her friend before she grabbed the drink she ordered and headed towards the stairs that would lead her up to their section. Armando’s eyes followed her movement. The way she brushed her hands through her wavy locks, trailing down her body. She wore a black cut out bodysuit, and black jeans that hung around her waist. Compressed gloves went up her arms, her fingers and thumb uncovered.

Armando adjusted himself to stand nonchalantly against the rail as she moved past the few people and coming to a halt, in front of Carlos, “Why am I not shocked you’re here?” she questioned, holding her drink tightly in her hand by the rim.

Carlos shrugged, “Maybe it’s because I know how to live while I’m young.” he answered, reaching down onto the table for a cigarette, “I would’ve thought you’d have an early morning, Detective, why party with us low lives?”

Sybil raised her hands in the air, “Hey, your words not mine,” she defended, “And not all of these people are low lives, you just refer to yourself as such.” Carlos laughed at her words. Sybil shifted her attention over to Armando for the first time since he saw her, her eyes meeting his own, “What’re you doing hanging out with this low life?” she spoke to him, gesturing towards her old classmate.

“I’m still wondering myself,” Armando found himself responding with a smirk.

Sybil smirked, humming softly. Carlos inhaled his cigarette glancing between them before speaking up, “Sybil Burnett, this is Manny Armas, he’s visiting Miami from Mexico,” he kept their introduction brief, even giving Armando a nickname for his own safety. She gave him a two finger salute with a subtle smile, “You should give him a tour around, no one knows Miami like you.”

The woman gave Carlos a look, “Do I look like a tour guide to you?” she questioned, eyes slightly narrowing but her closed mouth smile never wavered.

"Some slutty tour guide, huh?" Carlos regretted his words the moment they came out of his mouth, having forgotten the temper the Detective had.

However, Sybil grabbed the collar of his shirt with her freshly manicured hand, pulling him close enough to smell the alcohol on her breath. Her actions caused men to rise up from his seat at their boss being manhandled, let alone by a woman.

Sybil reached behind him, pulling the Glock that was tucked in the back of her pants, switching the safety off and aiming at the biggest one amongst the circle, "Sit your ass back down or your buddy," she presses the barrel under his chin, "Get's a bullet," with the reluctant assurance from Carlos, he lowers back to his seat, "Now, Carlos, what the fuck did you call me?"

Carlos appeared calm, but he was shaking deep down, "Come on, Billy---"

"Don't call me Billy, friends only call me that."

"S-Sybil, it was just a joke, okay?" Carlos tried to defend himself.

"A joke?" Sybil cocked her head to the side, before she directed her attention to Armando who watched the situation in amusement, "Did you find it funny, Manny?" she questioned him, raising her brow.

He shook his head, "Not at all," he sniggered, taking a sip of his drink.

Sybil focused her attention back on Carlos, "Don't insult me like that again," abruptly, she pulled the gun back, putting distance in between her and him before releasing the chamber and setting the unloaded gun on the table, slipping the clip in her back pocket, "You boys have a good rest of your night," she nodded her head towards Manny, "Nice meeting you."

She made her exit with Carlos' crew watching her leave with a glare knowing that if something did happen to her, or worse if she ended up dead they'd have the entire Miami Police Department on their ass, and more.

Armando couldn't stop himself, he released his laughter the moment Carlos released a heavy exhale in relief, "Not fucking funny, Puta," he cursed him, leaning over with his hands on his knees, "She's fucking crazy." Armando laughed harder at that.

He turned around, facing the throng of dancing bodies. And just like he had before, he found her. Back where she was prior to Carlos inviting her up, she stood at the bar talking to her friend who laughed at what he could only assume what had just happened.

Sybil glanced over her shoulder, lifting her gaze only for her eyes to meet his own. He tipped his beer bottle towards her, causing her to return his gesture with a smile.

Not even an hour had passed since her incident with Carlos and Sybil was ready to go. She had her night of fun, but did need to take the man's words into consideration, she had an early day tomorrow. She walked out of the club, assuring Kelly she could make it to her car on her own seeing as they only met up at Zillion and would be taking their separate ways home.

But the thought of driving when she had already had so much to drink didn't sound right to her. Standing at the edge of the sidewalk, civilians walking past her reached into her little leather black purse on her shoulder, pulling out a pack of cigarettes. Placing the tip of one her mouth, she placed it back blindly feeling around for a lighter but not finding one.

She tossed her head back, groaning in annoyance, "Need a lighter?" a voice came from behind her. One that sounded familiar and like it had when she had heard it for herself the first time, caused goosebumps to rise.

Her head followed the sound, finding Manny Armas standing there in all his glory. A tight white shirt, nearly covered up by his black leather jacket and black jeans. His hair was dark and short, tapered on the sides.

He held the igniter in his hand, taking a step closer to her. Sybil leaned forward allowing Manny to light the cigarette for her. She took a step back, inhaling.

"Thank you," she voiced her appreciation with the smoke still in her lungs before she blew it out in the opposite direction he stood in, "Enough partying with Carlos?" Sybil inquired, having not talked herself off the ledge of starting a conversation with a stranger.

Manny slid the lighter into his pocket, "After you bruised his ego, he decided partying with a bunch of girls who witnessed it was bad enough."

"Maybe next time he'll watch his words," She murmurs, but her voice is loud enough for him to still hear her before she takes another drag, "But he should've seen it coming." Sybil shrugged, composed.

She had known Carlos for a long time, and he should've realized that she didn't take being degraded lightly, even if he had meant it as a joke. Girls had their kinks with it, but she didn't. Sybil knew her worth and wasn't going to let some asshole tear it down just to look cool in front of his friends.

"He doesn't look like he can spot a warning from an inch away from him," Manny says, implying that his business partner was clueless. Sybil couldn't disagree.

"Carlos is a very sloppy man."

Manny raised a brow, "Is that why he's still on the streets?"

Sybil laughed, tapping the side of her cancer stick, causing the ash to drop at her feet, "Carlos is still on the street because he's too weak to drop bodies, and he's an informant." she confessed with no worry. That was her warning. Manny was sexy but anyone who was hanging around with Carlos was either a dumbass or a potential client. And he didn't look like a dumbass, "He wants to roll with the big boys but he's too afraid to go behind bars."

"Good to know," Manny glances down the street, slipping his hands into the pocket of his jeans, "A friend of mine knows him, he uh, said he'd be able to get me around Miami if I needed it." he admits, Sybil humming in acknowledgement.

She dropped what was left of her cigarette on the ground, smashing it under her shoe, "Looks like you already had a tour guide."

Manny pursed his lips, "Yeah, but I think I need a replacement," Sybil could hear the suggestion, but she only chuckled in response, "Come on, I'm hungry."

Sybil put more weight on her right foot, crossing her arms over her chest, "You're really confident in yourself, aren't you?"

"Nah," he shook his head, "I'm just really hungry."

Sybil put more weight on her right foot, crossing her arms over her chest, "You're really confident in yourself, aren't you?"

"Nah," he shook his head, "I'm just really hungry."

She didn't know if she was going to regret this later, but she wasn't thinking about that right now, "I know the perfect spot."

Sybil waltzed passed him, expecting him to follow. Which he had. She had walked with good enough balance for a woman who had a drink too many. But that just let everyone know that she could hold her liquor. She was known for partying, and having a good time. And people understood that she separated her personal life from her profession entirely. Sometimes.

"Have you lived in Miami your entire life?" Sybil sent him a sideways glance at his question, "Hey, I just want to make sure my tour guide doesn't lose us," Manny defended.

"Then quiz me on where the historical museums are," she retorts with a simple shake of her head, but nonetheless she answers, "Basically yeah, if we're counting the actual years of my life I remember." she turned a corner, the two of them passing through more people that walked the streets of Miami, a lot of them liked it better that way, "I'm surprised Carlos didn't give you a play by play." she adds.

"He did," Manny admits, "But it's better hearing it from the source."

Sybil nodded her head, understanding that, "And let me guess, I'm a crazy bitch with a temper who he went to high school with?" she rhetorically asked knowing that was always the summary he gave people.

"Pretty much, yeah." He confirmed.

She scoffed, "And that didn't give you the hint to steer clear?" Sybil found it quite amusing.

"I'm usually pretty good at making my own decisions," Manny noted as he looked around as they walked.

Once they got to the corner of a street, Sybil began to walk across the main road to a food truck that was parked in a designated area. She moved fast, Manny followed her motion, traffic not slowing down for them.

When making it to the other side, Sybil looked at him, "Let's hope you made the right choice," she spoked, the corner of her mouth lifting. She continued on her way towards the Taco Truck, Manny trailing behind her.

It was packed as it usually was, but the man in the truck, the moment he lifted his head and saw Sybil's approaching figure, tapped his employee's shoulder; "¡Oye! ¡Mira lo que es!" he announced in excitement, pointing at her.

Some turned their heads to see who he was talking about. His employee, who Sybil knew as Vince lowered his head to get a glimpse before his lips too formed into a smile, "¡Billy! Es bueno verte extraño,"

Sybil laughed, moving to the front of the line. She glanced behind her to see Manny lingering in the back, causing her to wave her hand towards him, gesturing for him to come closer.

"¿Qué te trae por aquí? Normalmente estás por aquí sacando a estas zorritas de mi cuadra." Santonio, a man she had known she was a kid, had gestured outside, leaning forward.

"Lo sé, lo sé, pero ahora estoy aquí," from the corner of her eye, Sybil could see Manny looking in surprise, "Alguien quería tenía hambre, así que lo llevé al mejor lugar que conozco." she compliment with a subtle wink.

Santonio placed a hand over his chest, "Me calienta el corazón," he blew her a kiss, before his gaze went to Manny, "¿Y qué estás haciendo con mi dulce, Billy?"

"Me está enseñando Miami, de visita desde México." Manny talked with only politeness to the man.

Vince leaned down, "Te encontraste una buena, sólo no la hagas enojar," he rubbed his head, shaking it.

Sybil laughed, "¡Eso fue todo culpa tuya, Vince!"

Santonio rubbed his forehead, "Chicos," he stood up to his full height, "¿qué puedo hacer por vosotros? ¿Lo de siempre?" he raised a brow at Sybil.

"A menos que este tipo tenga la lengua de acero, no está listo para lo de siempre." Vince chimed in as he worked the grill, making other people 's food.

Sybil smirked, moving her gaze to Manny's, "No lo sé, podría ser capaz de soportarlo." she teased, nudging him with her elbow.

"No le hagas eso, Billy," again Vince voiced his opinion.

Sybil challenged him, sending him a look that only silently asked him one question, could he do it? Manny turned to Santonio, raising two fingers, "Dos de los de siempre," he ordered, digging in his back pocket for his wallet.

"Ah no chico, la comida va por cuenta de la casa." Santonio waved him off, "Traeré su comida en un minuto."

Sybil and Manny retreated away from the truck, receiving glares on their way towards an empty table. They settled down across from one another, Manny not hesitating to speak up, "Where'd you learn how to speak Spanish?"

She gestured to the truck, "From the man himself," she referred to Santonio, "He started teaching me when I was little, helped me out a lot." Sybil looked around with a tiny smile, "He's always been here, I'd ditch school and come here when I didn't want to go but my dad sent me anyway," she then released a heavy exhale, "And it was a requirement for the Miami Police Academy." she waited for his reaction from her confession , but she didn't get one, "You aren't ready to run yet?" she vocalized.

"Like I said, I make my own decisions," Manny repeated himself earlier, "And why're you so hell bent on me running? You scared or something?" Now it was his turn to challenge her.

Sybil rolled her eyes, "Boy bye," he laughed at her, not taking his eyes off her, "Let's just say when people hear Burnett they make a run for it, or even hear that I'm a Cop," she explained, pursing her lips, "But there is still time."

Manny leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table, whispering, "Keep dreaming."

***

Authors Note; there is going to be a part two, but since i assured you guys that i was gonna be posting a chapter by tonight, here you go! i'm glad that so many people are excited to read this! i've been thinking about this for a while but these responses to no one knowing who armando aretas ( my baby daddy ) is, i've decided to give them a little glimpse and hopefully some encouragement to recognize. please enjoy this first chapter, apologies it may be a little rough, i get very anxious causing me to write faster and not think first.

beware for some errors.

Taglist: @dasaniswrlddd @kokazuu

#jacob scipio x female!oc #bad boys fanfic #armando aretas x female!oc #x black!fem!oc #fc: zendaya #mike lowrey #marcus burnett #series #bad boys for life #bad boys ride or die

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ghouljams · 3 days

Note

https://www.tiktok.com/@kickupsomedust/video/7374145884403223854?_t=8n2jGA6urd5&_r=1

goose? but i feel like it could fit someone else too just can’t put my finger on it

No that's absolutely Goose coded. I have in fact written fic just for you because of it, so here's Goose being possessive and mildly insane.

You open the trailer door in nothing but a tank top and a pair of panties, still brushing your teeth. You raise a brow looking at the woman with her hand still raised to knock on the door. She smiles sweetly. Phoney fucking bologna. You lean to the side and spit your toothpaste onto the grass, ignoring the face she makes. You get a good view of her nice white boots before you straighten up.

"Can I help you?" You ask because she doesn't seem intent on talking.

"I'm lookin' for Simon Riley?" She coos in a voice that says she's trying to be polite but really sees you as an obstacle more than a person.

"Ain't he comin' off a roping round?" You give your teeth another quick brush just because you don't wanna stand around holding something and because you figure it'll make her realize you're not interested in helping whatever little scheme she's cooked up.

"He offered to help me with my tack," Sounds innocent enough, not exactly your husband's MO though, "he said I could meet him at his camper." Ah. "Didn't mention you." Uh huh. You nod. This is sounding more like him, send the pushy problem to you to deal with.

You tug your toothbrush from your mouth and spit again before smiling at the girl. "Well ain't that sweet of him, bless his heart I'm always tellin' that man he's gotta start being nicer to people." You gesture with your toothbrush, flipping off the men that wander by a little too slowly. It's not your fault this bitch wouldn't stop hammering on your door long enough to let you pull a pair of jeans on.

"Right," the girl pulls the word suspiciously through her lips.

"My brother sure can pick 'em," you see the tension in her shoulders loosen a little, "wait here baby, I'll put some pants on and we can go lookin' for 'im."

You think you know why Simon sent this chick your way. She won't shut the fuck up. You're doing fine keeping up, but you're sure his head was spinning. As it is you're fielding questions about your husband and attempting to give awful but honest answers. When she asks if he's got any neurosis you almost lose it. You cover by telling her he's a veteran and that seems to handle most of her questions from there. It's too bad the woman went after your husband, you might have liked her if she wasn't an attempted homewrecker.

Though that thought is quickly dashed against the rocks when you spot Simon and she goes running over to him. It's then that you get a good look at the rhinestones covering her back pockets. Fucking saddle scratchers, of course she needs help with her tack it's probably torn to shreds. Simon looks straight past her to you, his face going white --well, whiter-- when he sees you smile. He's quick to side step the woman and stalk over to you.

"What're you smiling about?" He asks, his voice rough, you wonder if he had a rough ride for his practice round. You desperately want to ask if he knows the dummies they bring out don't move, that he doesn't have to work so hard roping the suckers. Instead and tip your head to make sure he knows you're looking at him and grin.

"Thinkin' about how sad and sorry you'd be without me."

Simon hums, leaning down to kiss you. The soft press of his lips is made all the sweeter for the gasp that escapes your unwelcome guest. You keep your hands at your side, really drive home that your man wants to kiss you the way his big hands cup your face to keep you in place as his tongue swipes against the seam of your lips. It's really too bad Simon likes putting on a show. You'd stand here and kiss him all day if you could, but you have a fan to deal with. You turn your head on the next kiss so Simon's lips land on your cheek, it doesn't stop him. His lips trail over your cheek, against your jaw, you have to push at him when his stubble scratches at your neck. Too ticklish early in the morning for his nonsense.

His wannabe bunny is paler than a ghost watching you press your hands against Simon's broad chest. She scowls at you, and you stick your tongue out in response.

"You could've told me he was taken," She spits at you, "you're not funny." So weird, you think you're hilarious. Simon let you go to give the girl a confused look. She glares at him as well before turning to leave.

"Oh wait, you got somethin' on your jeans," You tell her, she twists and you step closer, "looks like you sat in something."

You grab the top of one of her pockets and jerk hard, ripping the damn thing from the seat of her pants. She shrieks and Simon's quick enough to make sure she doesn't catch you with that weak ass swing.

"You bitch!" She yells at you. You blow her a little kiss with her stupid bedazzled pocket.

#cod x reader #x reader #simon ghost riley #x oc #cod x oc #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #mw2 ghost #ghost cod #oc: goose #cowboy au #cowboy!ghost

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cyb3rtarot · 1 day

Text

Pick a Pile: Message from Your Spirit Guides

Disclaimer: tarot readings are not replacements for professional advice. Take what confirms, not confuses. You make your own fate. In this reading I’ll be describing the energy of a guide and what messages this guide has, and extra details! Each row of emojis is a pile.

Help a Palestinian family, even $1 helps!! 5 is close!: 1 2 3 4 5

🕊️ 💸 ☁️

🌞 💌 🌊

🎴 ⚜️🏛️

💦 🦊 ⛲️

🌳 🃏 🌌

👸 📿 🏡

𓆸⋆｡°✩.

Pile 1 🕊️💸☁️

[Ace of Wands, Death, bottom of the deck the Hierophant, three of clubs]

Hello pile one! I would describe your guide with the word divinity? I keep trying to find a good word, and words like angel came to mind but I feel the scope of your spirit guide is larger than what one may first think. Like maybe you hear that word and think of the soft smiling guardian angel image, whereas this energy is more like the holy, intense concept. A larger, driving force. The intensity is emphasized, I'm not sure if sometimes you feel “the essence” of this energy and it’s off putting to you? Or this could be how the energy manifests, like receiving help or guidance that comes as very big changes or intense situations that later give way to blessings. It feels fair, in the way a being with an aerial perspective of human life might be fair, if somewhat separate from the human experience. If your belief includes a concept of God, this energy may be related to that. The three of pentacles is on the top of the deck and again there's the three of clubs; there may be the impression of a larger energy because perhaps there’s multiple energies working together as a collective to help you, including deceased loved ones. There’s a lot of people of religious backgrounds in this pile who have/ had faith in concepts like angels/archangels or The Trinity, and those concepts are relevant here, especially if you only pray to God (or Saints?) and don’t engage with the concept of spirit guides too much. The main takeaway is this is a force of energy, possibly multiple combined, that especially helps you with new opportunities and cycles. They love to see you going through new opportunities and generally bring good tidings to your life and energy, helping you transmute and grow. You are like a flower in bloom to them.

Extra guide details: spiritual, church, late night walks, snowflakes, cactus, in bloom, transmutation, trios. The blue sky is significant, especially in relation to ice, winter, and snowflakes (this is emphasized). Shock, electricity. Bright light flashes. Crackling, popping. Intense, holy.

[Domination, It’s Always Teatime sideways, 9 of cups rx, 4 of pentacles, 10 of wands, who in the world are you?, follow the white rabbit, top/bottom of deck: knight of pentacles rx/ the Chariot]

Everyone always wants a piece of the pie, in detriment, "let go" (“I can’t let go”)

Your guide has a message about forgiveness; there’s past pain or disappointment keeping you very stuck in an unpleasant energy. The 4 of pentacles flipped over while the song I was listening to went “let go, let go.” There’s a sense of someone having wronged you, or possibly a cycle of wrongs between you and another. It’s the energy of someone taking advantage as if you were weaker than them, someone messing with you just because they can. Whether this was once or continuous, it has stewed in your mind, and so energetically you’re stuck in this moment of being wronged. You may unintentionally create feelings of self blame or shame with your hurt. You may ruminate over what made you upset, and your brain may cope with the intense emotion by directing anger towards yourself, but you may not consciously notice, so it continues to stew and get more enmeshed in whatever else you're holding on to. Or, your emotions could be intense on a physical level, and so the constant anger is like poison to your body. Your gut in particular could suffer or you could have issues with adrenaline. What comes to mind is the 8 of swords rx. When you work on releasing this embedded pain, you’ll be able to fly away from this cage. You’ll be able to release some of these wands that the 10 of wands figure is burdened by.

There’s another message about finances. Some of you give far too much to family or others, to where you might not be able to pay your bills or live adequately. And for many, your family is not as grateful as they could be. Your message is telling you to hold on to more of your money to release yourself from some of this unhappiness. Really sitting down and committing to healing, however that looks for you, may also help finances. Some of you may be in a not-so-good job that’s affecting you mentally, but you’re too drained to look for something better. Healing will rejuvenate some energy & enthusiasm to improve your situation. Therapy and meditation come to mind. You’ve been stuck in this pain long enough that you might’ve forgotten some parts of yourself, which is where meditation may be helpful for rediscovery. As you heal, opportunities can increase “exponentially,” I feel. It’s like you just need to detach from this energy enough and then I’m seeing you follow a thread that’ll take you all over the place to all kinds of opportunities. I see a turtle coming out of hibernation, slow with all the earth that’s caked up on it for the last few months coming off. That’s you coming out of this, and this guide is here to help you heal and transmute the hurt. This guide especially helps with your root, sacral, solar, and heart energies, with the heart being the most concern right now. Despite the darkness, I see and feel the excitement and curiosity that will be in your energy as you work through some of these attachments (attachments from pain, trauma, rumination, exploitation, physical trauma too I hear). This guide has so much love for you! And there’s pride as well. Good job and good luck pile one, you can do it!

Extra Details: trees blooming outside apartment, Christianity, works in shipping/ fulfillment, PS2/ old video games with chunky graphics (esp with ninja or samurai characters), Final Fantasy (especially XVI, or XIV?), 3, 303, 333, angels, sitting in a dark room (especially with the light on in the hallway. If you do this to brood maybe you could turn this into meditation), lights/electricity/water cutting off (there’s a theme of being in the dark while upset, you might need better lighting in your home!), collective/ co-op/ compound, feeling like you’re in the wrong environment (literally the climate where you live may not be compatible with you but could also refer to a social environment like work. Astrocartography may help), pie, boxes, purple thread/yarn, string of fate, purple yam, pouting when you cry or when angry. Mars in Libra, Taurus, Sagittarius, or knowing someone with this placement. If you have Mars in Libra or Taurus, that may be where the struggle in asserting boundaries is coming from, there’s a need to be more protective of yourself and body or health). Scorpio energy is significant, may be in profection year of your house in Scorpio, or it maybe a prominent sign in the Solar Return (or an SR in the last 3 years). Eye of Providence. Bright colored eyes. Angel- NewDad, Let Go- NewDad, Becky- Be Your Own Pet, Washing Machine Heart- Mitski, Cane Shuga- Glass Animals

Thank you for reading!—Tip Link | Paid Reading Info in Pinned Post (in-depth spirit guide readings available!)

𓆸⋆｡°✩.

Pile 2 🌞💌🌊

[Seven of Swords rx, Death, top/bottom of deck: princess of swords rx/ princess of pentacles rx, Protection]

Hi pile two! Your guide is very eager to come through with your message; I was picking up your energy way before I started your reading. For everyone this relationship is different, but the energy seems to be a loved one who passed at infancy or before childbirth. For some, there may have been a twin absorbed in the womb or something similar? Otherwise this is just a relationship you have to an infant, including from your family or close circle, even cousins. This could also be up to toddler age as for some maybe you had a friend in infancy this applies to. This guide has a very young, playful, loving, and fun-loving energy, and “kind” I hear. They like to flit or hang around your energy lol, if you’re sensitive you may notice them around as it’s like a child having fun around you. If you have a deceased pet (especially a medium or big dog with white & brown fur?) they may like to come around with the pet and this amplifies the energy. I’m not getting much about what specifically this guide helps with, but I think them being in your energy helps lighten it, or they may just like to be with you because they love you. For some of you if you had sudden lightbulb moments where you saw through or realized the truth about something, this guide sometimes helps you have those moments, they help you realize things for what they are, both in life and your relationships.

Specific Message for Some [!!TW!! Abortion, Miscarriage]: Some of you had an abortion, miscarriage, loss of a child, I also feel this applies to some of you that absorbed a twin in the womb—you’re not being kind to yourself, like you have a bitterness towards yourself after this event. This guide just wants you to know there’s no shame, hate, bitterness, anything like that from their end. They have lots of love and support for you, and you don’t need to carry a burden over what fate led to, or what has already come to pass. Especially if some of you blame yourself because of a physical activity you did before it happened? They want you to release these emotions and heal how you can. Also, some are not grieving this in particular but you started having a hard time for other reasons after this event, and it’s been depressing you. They are wanting you to face these factors “head-on” so you can heal and recuperate, especially if you need to physically recover from something but you’re having a hard time with other things going on.

Extra guide details: feeling warm, loss/death, fate, angels, small angel figurine, cherubim, Cupid, hearts, Valentine’s Day or similar imagery, church, natural disaster (especially hurricanes, tsunamis, earthquakes; these may be symbolic), excitement, childlike wonder and innocence, purity, twins, Gemini energy, Aries energy, toy blocks, popping/ patting/ banging/ thumping noises (especially a cover, grate, or vent? I see this guide running down your hall banging the wall and giggling), smelling something clean or good, soft hair, ribbons, stuffed animal (bunny)

[Becoming Braver rx, Such a Curious Dream rx, Seduction, Fehu, Nine of Cups, The Empress rx, Paths, Stork, Dog]

Your message is about letting yourself be vulnerable. You may force yourselves to be strong and it’s hard to undo the persona. To the point where defenses are indiscriminate; you may have times where you avoid good things to protect yourself but let toxicity into your life because you were blinded by something. Your guide is wanting you to relax when new opportunities come and learn when to lower walls. There’s a huge message about travel, you may have the opportunity to travel soon (especially with a friend or love interest), or maybe you’ve been avoiding a needed getaway, especially because of transportation? This is a good opportunity to let loose and clear your energy, and if you do have some issue with transportation, your guide wants you to resolve it if you’ve been avoiding it on purpose. This guide values freedom, and you being limited in yours by solvable issues frustrates them. You’re also limited by your disbelief that good things can happen to you when there’s already opportunities to experience good things, and they want you to challenge that perspective. This guide is all about taking things head on like a little warrior lol, Aries energy.

If you do have a new relationship (including platonic) or love interest, there’s a message about lightening up and letting yourself enjoy the fun parts of the beginning stages. That’s a theme across your whole message, to enjoy new beginnings, and not be afraid of nurturing or forging healthy relationships. This may help you get out the stagnant energy following you, especially if it’s coming from other people. Discernment is required when putting your walls up, otherwise your defenses are stretched thin and padded too much in the wrong areas. It’s like your defenses became a way to deny yourself happiness, the right to be vulnerable & soft. Your guide wants you to address this, to engage in the passionate parts of life, to break this cycle and start a new, better one. Again, in particular, they are encouraging fun in your social life & traveling. Also, if you have a choice of putting energy into unfulfilling relationships or mending better ones, take steps to mend real friendships.

Extra Details: moths, butterflies, & “bugs in your lawn” are significant—especially tiny moths or red butterflies, also crickets? A playdate or playroom like you might see in a preschool, nursery, or the corner of an office. 404/44/444, the Sun (I see a Sun painted in a spiral), also the Sun in tarot/ oracle, stiffness, left eye/ jaw/ face pain? Melanie Martinez, bright blonde hair or bright-colored eyes, smelling a baby or holding one up to your face (a memory?), crystals, crystal angel figurine, congenital or genetic, video games, watching old media or memories, VHS, needing more nutritious food especially if you crave ice or non-edible things, paying attention to your body on a day to day basis, allowing yourself to be more creative—esp with your self-expression like clothes or makeup, letting yourself be excited out loud. Building your faith or ability to believe again, especially believing things can be ok. New chemistry or passion with someone, challenging a lack mindset, luck, predestiny, leaves on the vine

If you already felt drawn to pile one it may resonate, this guide may be related to the energy described, or they could be referencing another guide you have

Thank you for reading!—Tip Link | Paid Reading Info in Pinned Post (in-depth spirit guide readings available!)

𓆸⋆｡°✩.

Pile 3 🎴⚜️🏛️

[7 of clubs, 4 of diamonds, 10 of diamonds, top of deck: Queen of Hearts]

Hello pile three! For many of you this is a past life connection, or an ancestor (especially maternal). Or both, most guides in this pile lived a while ago, some more like in the 1800s, but for some it’s back to the 1400s, and for some even farther. There’s some kind of familiarity, responsibility, or bond—like fate, or the family tree and such things that have far-reaching effects. I picked up a mysterious vibe and not as much about them specifically. The energy reminds me of Morticia Adams a bit lol but there’s masculine energy here too for some. The masculine energy feels a bit more aloof/stern or self-assured, an Aries-like confidence, whereas the feminine energy is a little more playful or like a black cat in comparison (so take that as it fits if you’re familiar with either energies). Actually, before I finished writing this section, I noticed the King of Hearts is under the Queen of Hearts, so both a feminine & masculine guide with past lives/ancestry ties, or a relation to each other—they could be a pair, could be in your energy. This guide (or guides) likes to be around you sometimes when you’re doing things you like, especially your nerdy or geeky interests. If you have a garden, or take walks in nature or near flowers, they also like to use these flowers as signs, or be with you in those moments. They support you when you’re doing those things you like, especially what you do for money or hobbies, as many have family that don’t support you or are pressuring you down a specific path, especially medical or something lucrative. They are around to encourage you and instill confidence in your own decisions; they are on your side. This guide helps you with general success, stability, and good luck, particularly in the material world. They do things on their end to ensure success in your endeavors, to show you things will be okay and you’re taken care of when you put effort in. They are big on success, confidence, financial increase or independence. If there’s something about a document, form, ticket, certificate, or similar that’s significant right now, I’m not sure why but your guide is bringing attention to it, and it seems like things will turn out well with these diamond cards. This could also be something magical in paper form, like a charm or spell you did.

There are more spiritual people in this pile who practice tarot, magic, manifestation, etc. This guide especially helps the energies from these along on their end and helps bring success to your practice, this is really emphasized; the word “magic” is emphasized as well. This is particularly true if you do spells or manifestations using paper or physical methods. This guide cares about you and wants to see you succeed in your efforts!

Extra Guide Details: red roses (especially seeing one bloom or in full bloom), romantic songs (slow or sad ones), camcorder/ old camera, grainy photos or videos, VHS, long black clothing, long &/or wavy dark hair, magnetic, alluring, mysterious, black, red, dark red, dark purple, fleur de lis, wallpaper, “darker” styles, crows, large and/or weeping trees. Kintsugi (may be significant to your healing which this guide may help or bring attention to. The episode of Bojack “Good Damage” is significant for someone because that came out super specifically), boost/surge of confidence, patience in your readings or other efforts, gusts of wind or other signs in nature, windfalls of good luck or abundant finances, magic, maternal, ancestry, old, pale

[Vision, Discrimination, Restlessness, 8 of diamonds, 2 of hearts, 6 of clubs, 9 of spades, 8 of spades]

I see a Fleur de Lis again in the symbols on your cards, so that could really be significant! Off the top what I get is you have a growing idea, especially a vision for your life or something you want to do. This is mostly a plan or not even that, a dream. Your head may be up in the clouds; your guides are wanting you to ground. There’s a growing agitation in you as this dream or desire for something different fills your mind, and being ungrounded is exacerbating this. These guides are all about putting action in, so they want you to more closely guard your mind against that which detaches you from reality or the present too much. If you are spiritual they especially want you to use discernment in your practice at this time and don’t indulge in spiritual things that unsettle your mind or make you confused too much. You’re needing a practical and detail-oriented energy like Virgo so you can organize this beautiful dream!

Many of you are in the midst of a long-coming choice, especially about work or education. For example, reaching the end stage of studies/ training and deciding on the next path. One choice you feel negatively about or you’re being pushed into. Another choice you like but are pressured against doing, or also feel negatively about because of some fear, like financial stability. This could represent a current job or major if you’re wanting to leave. Serious reflection is needed! This thing you hate may be a major investment. You may feel like picking this because it seems stable, but you may not be considering burn out (which is tough on your body) or emotional pain if you force yourself. It’s not a better financial choice if you’re not able to see through your investment. With the thing you like, you have talent or interest, but maybe because it doesn’t seem stable or you’re not sure how it would work, you haven’t put in a lot of practical planning. This could also refer to wanting to make moves with a partner. This is exacerbating those restless feelings, as you get more pressured and don’t have a plan for the choice you like. Your guides need you to put that discernment and practicality into this decision process. Really think about what you’re willing to do, capable of doing, and what first steps will look like. Be realistic—not pessimistic about finances so you have a real idea of the effort needed to create success. Especially be realistic about emotions; don’t get clouded by fantasies, examine patterns and choices. Your guides are here to help you with success, but they can only do their part on their end. Factor in things like burn out and any negativity you have surrounding these choices, reflect, weigh pros & cons, because that ultimately will impact the effects of this decision months down the line. Be mindful of your environment exacerbating fear and confusion as those things detach you from reality, especially your family & work environment. Consider if you will like the environment you’re going to, as picking a place you don’t feel comfortable in will take a toll. This also applies if your current work environment is really stressing you out. This is the other side of the financial aspect to consider, if you will be able to reap any benefits in an environment that's discouraging, or if you can find a healthy way to approach that at all. Overall, channel restless energy into practical thinking! Merge your inner child & dreamer with the mature self. Ask your guides for help creating success in whatever you do!

Extra Details: reading cards/cartomancy—some of you scrap readings abruptly when you struggle (or other hobbies). This guide helps with this sometimes, especially if words or thoughts come to mind until you get the right one, as if your guide reads with you. This guide is particular (Virgo energy, you or them), and doesn’t want you to quit too easily. If you read cards (esp if you only read tarot) your guide may encourage you to expand such as trying a new form of card reading (again this may fit another hobby). Diane, Mr Peanut Butter, or Penny from Bojack, E. Asia, Japan, coastal area or island (can also be family history, an interest), Greece, things that creep out or sadden others but are significant or interesting to you, Peppermint- Jack Stauber. “Find a penny, pick it up, all day long you’ll have good luck!” Cloves, picking somewhere to move, esp to a city/ university/ near the ocean, inner child, fruit, childhood home/town, playing house as a kid, writing/songwriting, singing (“he never said I couldnt sIiiiIng”), singing as a child in a group or specific place, passed down songs, sketching fruit, interests from childhood, cartoons, codename: KND, Chowder (show), eye dr, surgeon, exam, paying for certification

For clair-people: if you ever feel a guide going NOO >:( especially if it feels disproportionate to the situation or while you’re doing your spiritual practice— I think that’s the masculine guide I described lol. They may be a bit jarring to your energy but they don’t mean you poorly, they just have something like a dry sense of humor and don’t adjust their tone lol but you can always set boundaries if you want

Thank you for reading!—Tip Link | Paid Reading Info in Pinned (in-depth spirit guide readings available!)

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Pile 4 💦🦊⛲️

[I Wonder What Will Happen Next, princess of swords, six of swords]

Hello pile #4! For many of you this guide seems to be a past life connection and/or relative. There’s a child-like joy, so you could’ve known this guide in your youth in a past life (or this one?), and/or they could have died young. Or, they are just connected to this side of themselves, as there’s also wisdom + older energies mixed in there for some.

This guide has a major affinity to water, in their lifetime(s) the coast or water in general was significant to them. They like and encourage you to spend time with water. At first I saw a beach with no one else around (this could be their past life or your current one), but then I got something about you going to a water park, so even though this guide prefers peace & quiet, they love water and you having fun or embracing your inner child more lol. This guide is related to the home, as well as quiet outings in nature—especially in the Summer. They are very related to your recuperation in these spaces; they’re big on the effect your surroundings create on the mind. They enjoy when you do comfy or rejuvenating activities in the home, like baking cookies because they keep excitedly showing me these fresh hot cookies lol. Their focus is on you using these times well to have the “wherewithal” to go forward in the world, especially if your life has been more about rest or “focus” recently? They want you to take resting or relaxing seriously as your foundation. They also encourage you to recuperate your thoughts + organize your mind during these times, so that you’re clear-headed going forward and know what is true. Your guide came in with the word “quiet” which I see but it’s funny because when this energy wants to say something I feel they say it really loud and pointedly lol. Like they ARE quiet or you may notice a stillness when they’re around? But, when they’re excited they energetically shout like a happy child. Another thing about the guides in this pile is many seem to have lived possibly a few hundred or more years ago, because they use somewhat archaic or very specific language. They have an affinity or relation to older architecture and a time when there was less human impact everywhere. You may notice a pull towards things related to them or that they like, especially water and coastal areas, older architecture, older media (even songs from a few decades ago), calm environments, or a pull to take walks in nature (especially the woods). For many, either you or this guide has a significant relation to Britain.

Extra Guide Details: quiet, the ocean—especially a beach with little to no human activity, relaxing at home, egrets/herons or other waterfowl, cookies (very significant), homely (cozy), rushing water, sailing or travel over water, trust/truth, alone in nature, past life connections, water park, nostalgia/ older media, church or a place of spiritual beauty (the emphasis is on the physical building and how it affects one’s mind rather than religion itself, though if you are religious they encourage you in your faith), baptisms or initiations (extra significant; this period of your life may be an initiation into the next especially in spirituality.

[Find the Lesson, Extremism, Resistance, 9 of pentacles, the High Priestess, Eihwaz]

This guide wants you to incorporate a lesson into your life you’ve been resisting. There’s something you or someone with a strong relation to you is struggling to accept, and it’s getting to the point where your/their behavior or mentality is getting more unstable as this is resisted. This could be something like refusing to accept a love situation is over or didn’t have a chance, and instead getting more aggressive or obsessive about love. It seems strong emotion is involved, but it doesn’t have to be love, just any situation that’s tough to swallow or has resulted in “acting out.” Take a higher perspective, and take time to appreciate the learning aspect of this experience, as there’s a lot of growth it could provide. Introspection, deep reflection, prayer, or spiritual practice with the intent of clarity & understanding are encouraged. If this is someone close, your guides still want you to learn something, such as boundaries or paying more attention to who’s unstable towards you + protecting your energy. There’s a point about raising stability & independence, and communicating what needs to be said without going overboard or blowing up. You seem to already know this with the high priestess. You’re aware of this needing your attention or “cooperation." Or, you’re aware of a lesson on some level, but your guides want you to act accordingly and not just look the other way lol.

Once you “maintain” or integrate this lesson, it’ll be easier to move into a financial blessing or material success, especially if you’re planning something but feel overwhelmed or lack the resources. I’m not sure why the word maintain came to mind, maybe this is a continuous lesson but you backpedal, such as setting boundaries but making concessions on them. If so, your guide wants you to maintain the lesson learned. Maybe that’s also why the word cooperation came to mind; your guides want you to cooperate with them on moving forward. Also, if one of the things you’re “yearning” for is increased spiritual awareness or ability, then this guide is saying that resolving this situation and accepting it is what’ll bring you closer to your spirituality. Especially if you’ve been going overboard with spiritual things to the point where it’s affecting your mental health. Overall, your guides stress balance, discipline, and willpower.

Extra Details: a very large building with older architecture and a central courtyard between the buildings, like a university or a very old church? Needing to communicate something (like an important conversation you’re preparing for or putting off) (this guide is helping with this). A recent breakup/rejection or putting off a breakup (don’t force this to fit, whoever this applies to already knows. Could also be a platonic breakup or familial separation). Edinburgh. Yoga. Ancestors (again for some of you this could be a relative). “Cosmic phenomenon” (the sky, seeing something in the sky, or things happening in the night sky? As well as the movement of things through space such as astrology/astronomy). Animals, particularly those that accompany you when in nature; they could be related to your guide. Especially a red fox in the woods? Sail Away- The Long Faces. The guides in this pile were very lovely energy to interact with n_n. Also if you read any cards, when this guide is around you may notice an urge to read without reversals. Pile 6 may be significant if you were already drawn to it.

Thank you for reading!—Tip Link | Paid Reading Info in Pinned (in-depth spirit guide readings available!)

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Pile 5 🌳🃏🌌

[2 of cups rx, 3 of wands, 10 of swords, King of Swords, 3 of wands rx, the hierophant, bottom of a different deck is also the hierophant]

Hello pile 5! Your guide didn't come through with much about themselves except that it’s a feminine energy. They’re focused on you/ don’t need to describe themselves specifically at this time. Instead, your cards tell your guide’s relationship to you. This guide is like a personal teacher or shows you how to cut through lessons. This guide’s presence and influence is most felt or seen in emotional lessons, as their energy provides much needed balance. When you’re going through an emotional situation— especially from a “failing?” or ending relationship—this guide helps incorporate logic & mental fortitude into your thoughts. It’s interesting that there’s the three of wands twice from different decks, causing the figures in the cards to mirror each other. While you are trying to heal emotionally and facing the future, this guide is also doing work on the other side, looking into and guiding you in the future. Imagine walking down a path in the forest, and there’s someone extremely tall with you who can see far ahead on the path, see the obstacles that need to be cleared, as well as which paths are least treacherous, it’s like that. In this second three of wands, a female figure towers over a town, holding a little ship and looking out into the sea; that represents how your guide looks out for you. Your guide has much to teach you, they bring wisdom and help you find the lesson in endings and trials you go through. They’re like a school teacher with a much more personal sense of responsibility, guidance, and protection over you. The energy reminds me of an ancestor, though that’s just for some, but the sense of responsibility is similar at least. It could even be a passed on parent/guardian, grandma, great grandma etc. If a situation is not helping you grow, if something holds you back or blinds you, this guide may “cut to the chase” and intervene. The hierophant also came out twice. This guide is very “I said what I said,” like when someone is authentic nothing they do needs further explanation, it is what it is. Similar to how an adult may do something for our own good growing up, and we don’t understand their perspective until later. They may work with a higher energy or group to guide you. If you have faith or worship-based practices, that may be significant to this guide or the energy they use to help you.

Extra Guide Details: the energy didn’t bring forward many details, and ones that did come out are ultra specific. This guide is very wise and a little on the serious or quiet side, but kind with vast knowledge. Maybe even having ancient knowledge, for some. If you work with herbs for your spirituality, especially for spiritual insight or travel, that’s significant to this guide and they may be especially present then—though they help bring you some of that insight even if you don’t do that. Your guide gives off a primordial, vast, ancient, or powerful feeling; not necessarily that old but their breadth of wisdom makes them feel that way. “Big bang” & “solar flare” came out so those may be significant, though I feel they also symbolically describe the energy of your guide. They have had many experiences or lessons, and are now able to impart what they know on you. They have gone through similar things to what you have if not the same in their time, so that’s part of why they’re able to help. If this guide is not an ancestor, and it’s not for some, then they may work or interact with yours.

[4 of diamonds, 7 of spades, 6 of hearts, 8 of hearts, ace of spades, Jack of hearts, A Moment’s Regret]

Your guide has a past, present, future message. In the past, this pile was enjoying relative stability. There were feelings you felt very secure in, literally somehow your material security may have been significant. Examples are (but not only) a friend group or going out with friends a lot, a serious relationship including engagements/ marriage, a relationship with shared finances, relative stability and contentment with those around you or in the family, positive financial investing/planning. Something happened that pulled the rug out from under your feet. A loss or sudden perspective shift of what you had emotionally, and this could have suddenly impacted your finances or sense of security. For some of you, there could have been some kind of legal proceedings or official documents you had to go through because of this situation, which added difficulty to an already shocking time. You had something fulfilling or at least something normal and then some kind of grief took over, a huge ending that feels sudden. Some of you felt something was off but didn’t engage with that feeling as things seemed okay. Your guide’s message of the future, which I think is very fitting considering I talked of them looking out onto your path, is that it all depends on your choice. In your future I see opportunities for emotional healing or intimacy, but the growth you take from this situation depends on you. This is especially true if this has to do with other people like an ex; what your emotions look like going forward will depend on if you’re willing to invest in something new and truly stable (yourself) as opposed to things that only seem nice but cannot hold against the test of time. Regardless, your future may have some healing connections in it with friends, family, or others; there may be opportunities to grow something real if you’re willing to rebuild that vulnerability and inner stability. If you commit to your own emotions and apply wisdom even when you’re going through this dark change, the light at the end of the tunnel is very bright and will give way to better things “no matter what,” but life is still what you make of it.

As the final advice, “a moment’s regret” reiterates what I said. In the future, you may be faced with the “test” of the lesson. There may be a situation to see what you have learned and if you’re sticking to your guns emotionally, to see if you are committed to bettering yourself. Your guide says don’t “fiddle around” (lol), thinking that you’ve done the wrong thing, trying to think about if things were different, if you could go back, if you gave something bad another try, if if if. Stay present and look at the facts. If you’re committed to yourself and not sacrificing yourself for others, or sacrificing your wellbeing for a moment’s pleasure, then you can guide yourself to a better situation always. This is especially for you if you have a situation with an ex or an emotional vice/crutch. Good luck & good job pile 5, you can do it!

Extra Details: mugwort, astral or spiritual travel/flight, great grandmothers or grandmothers, ancestral line, grieving a loss, 111, divorce, thinking of someone’s health, social drinking or overdoing it (and healing from this). If you read cards your guide really emphasized “shuffle better” 😭 if you don’t already shuffle a lot lol. Gambling, recovering from an addiction or vice (I hear “social addiction”)? Long term relationship suddenly ended. Don’t look at the past with rose-tinted glasses. E/ SE Asia; [not only] Vietnam, Japan, China (especially if there’s ancestry or a family member served there). If none of this reading resonated or makes you worried because this is not you right now then this is not the right pile for you and another pile is more appropriate, especially if you felt drawn to 3. If you did resonate with this, and you already felt drawn to pile 1 or 6, that may be significant. If you work with your guides directly I feel this guide may be one that says what they have to say and then leaves like they have things to do, and while you may feel them around a lot they don’t necessarily “linger” or stay outside of a specific moment.

Thank you for reading!—Tip Link | Paid Reading Info in Pinned (in-depth spirit guide readings available!)

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Pile 6 👸📿🏡

[the Empress, two of cups, Status]

Hello pile 6! Your guide has very strong feminine energy and is likely a close relative in your family tree, even one you knew in your lifetime. This could mainly be a mother or grandmother as there’s a very strong maternal bond or feeling. It could also be other close feminine loved ones like a sister (especially twin sister), wife, aunt, cousin, even a really close best friend. It’s possible for them to be farther along in your lineage but for most this guide has a direct relationship to you. The work they put into their lifetime may have had a direct effect on yours, like your family’s current financial status, house, or belongings may be tied to this individual, others who live in your home, or others you have a close relationship to. There’s a close connection and need to guide you, like it's a continuation of their life or natural for them. If you knew each other while they were alive, you possibly had an intertwined but complicated relationship, things left unresolved. If this resonates to someone specific in your life or family, and that person’s partner also passed (a passed mother + father, grandmother grandfather etc), they collaborate with them to help you. They also guide the people around you in a way that helps, especially family. This guide is either important spiritually or important to YOU spiritually which would make sense if this is a loved one; I feel this is one of your main guides or the guidance they give you carries a lot of spiritual weight (guiding you may be important for them in their journey also). I got a very specific message for someone that if you have a connection to a female deity/ entity (especially if you have a maternal view of them or view them as more of a mother than your own?) and you became a part of her following, this could represent her. For very few of you this could even represent a living relative whom you have a very close connection to; they may somehow help you on an astral or some other level, especially if they pray a lot. If this pile doesn’t resonate even a little, another pile is a better option!

Extra Guide Details: praying & chanting out loud or reciting mantras especially in a temple, prayer beads, kneeling or bowing during prayer or ceremony, video games (literal games or the song), cactus (you may have had a prickly relationship with this guide, or this could be otherwise significant or symbolic), family (if you are not related to this guide I feel you still know their family), uncles are significant. Spiritual protector. Mirroring. Spiritual Elder or mentor, "spiritual ancestor" (someone who is not necessarily blood related but somehow elder to you in your belief, or an ancestor who was very spiritual/religious). Folk or indigenous practices

[King of Diamonds, 9 of diamonds, 9 of spades, 7 of diamonds, Jack of hearts, ace of hearts, ace of spades, King of clubs]

Your guide is bringing attention to some upheaval in your life. Something is in the process of changing or has already changed in your family or home. Some of you may have experienced a loss (especially a younger person in the family), and/or there may have been a transformation of finances. Examples include receiving money suddenly but having to spend it, a change in career, inheritance, etc. This could also apply to someone close to you or in your home, especially if you did recently have a loss then I think you’ll be observing the effects of this on someone, especially a male relative. There could be a family gathering related to this. This change of people or finances could have seemed coincidental or the timing could have been very specific but I’m not sure how; someone could have felt it coming. The cards show that though tumultuous, change has its allotted time in our life.

Fate is a culmination of time, but also our own efforts. This change brings beginnings to you or your loved one’s lives, and a chance to transform both pain and good things. If there is anything you feel passionate about at this time or would like to invest into, now is a very good time to think of or work towards that. Especially if you are grieving something, using that grief to propel you to new phases will help you grow. Other people around you (including bosses) or your family could be helpful at this time, or you to them. We can’t always choose endings, but we can often choose beginnings. Allow yourself to be transformed by that which happens to you, and in turn, see the changes in the transformations you create.

Extra Details: living in a city/fast-paced life (current or dreaming of it), somewhere that feels like a fairytale, travel over water or a home near water, castles, emotionally or financially investing, taking a leap of faith or risk. Spiritual hygiene, protection, and grounding are important if you feel vulnerable right now—your mental state influences your spiritual perception. If you feel overwhelmed feel free to take a break from spiritual practice or routines. Cleansing the home may help a lot. Your guide helps protect you but wants you to keep yourself grounded as well. New jobs or developments in jobs like a bonus or check. Financial decisions related to events out of one’s control. Fluctuations in finances. Cooking/ cooking with family. Happenstance, coincidental, or seemingly fated events. New beginnings (including meeting someone interesting or helpful) that may bring financial or emotional blessings but there’s a need to keep a level head and be reflective. Going where you’re appreciated, physical changes in the home. New business idea or passion. Divination practices (this may be one thing to take a break from if you feel overwhelmed). Reaping what was sown, harvest time. Something about being bullied or for some of you maybe your guide was bullied in life? If that resonates I especially feel this is a time for you to reap blessings but also to seek them. Making the most of something, blessings whose effect depends on your effort & perspective. Emotionally protecting oneself, using logic about things which emotionally rile you (like love interests or sudden whims). You guys are most likely to have another significant pile if you felt called to another one.

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slasherscream · 2 days

Note

i would love to know which of the crazy ass boys gang would indulge a partner who watches reality tv? whose getting just as invested and angry and who is standing to the side saying it’s dumb and fake? (i know it’s kevin)

❥ who grins and bares it so they can bond with you ❥

Billy Loomis - This is just a bonding activity for Billy. It’s not awful. Nor is it the most fun thing in the world. It’s just one of those tiny moments that relationships are built off. The small bids for connection that build intimacy. You don’t bitch when he wants to watch Psycho for the sixth time in two months. He doesn’t bitch when you turn on trashy TV. He pulls you close, so that you’re sitting in his lap, or laid up against him, and pays enough attention to ask you the odd question or two to clarify what’s going on if he gets lost. What do you mean they switch couples?? When did they start doing that? Last week… oh I bet Luca was pissed.

David Mccall - David is obnoxious because he pretends to be the type who is upset when you watch without him. He’ll come home, glance at the TV and gasp dramatically: Baby! Why are you watching our show without me?! How far along are you? You watched an entire episode? You know better than that, baby! You gotta rewind it, hold on, I’ll order us some pizza. Can’t believe you’d watch behind my back! This is a ridiculous pantomime that you may or may not pick up on. Mileage varies as always. David couldn’t care less about the reality TV shows you watch. But he likes the way you giggle as you rewind it for him. Or the way you light up when you’re discussing it with him. You used to spend way too much time talking with your friends about this stupid crap. Now you talk to him. Who gives a shit about whatever mindless little thing you’re watching. What David enjoys is your undivided attention.

Jason Dean/JD - JD also sees this as a bonding activity and bid for connection… However, JD is a born hater. He bonds by talking shit. He’s not necessarily trying to be a bummer about the things you enjoy. He’s just a certified yapper when it comes to shit-talking. If he thinks something is stupid he just can’t sit in silence. This is his most underdeveloped life skill. He’s got ten minutes of quiet in him max. If he does manage to bite his tongue his face gives him away anyways. So what was the point? Will say something pretentious like: “Why are we watching people play out a badly scripted version of their lives through a screen when we could be out living ours, right now? Let’s hop on my bike and just ride, darling! Live a little!” Sir, I just worked an eight hour shift. I need to see someone who doesn’t deserve a rose get sent home in tears. Read the room. Get a grip.

❥ who is pissed off/devastated when you watch it without them ❥

Sebastian Valmont - What can he say? Sebastian likes to watch people experience psychological torment. He’s trying to turn on the first seasons of “America’s Next Top Model" and watch a girl get sent home in tears after the judges convinced her to shave her head bald to look more fierce.This is the type of quality reality TV that makes Sebastian laugh. Watching people go through their darkest moments in front of a camera that highlights the creases in their cheap makeup is how he likes to spend the occasional date night. You had to put him onto reality tv shows, but now he’s hooked. He probably watches more reality TV than you do. If we’re being honest. You think this might be how he gets to still live out his glory days of being an unrepentant asshole. Sometimes he sighs a little too wistfully when someone is being a monster.

Jordan Li - Jordan enjoys anything you do together. Even if they hate a particular activity, at least they’re spending time with you. Still, there are reality TV shows that Jordan really likes, such as: home improvement shows, “Say Yes to the Dress'', “Face Off”, “American Ninja Warrior”, and “RuPaul's Drag Race”. And then there are shows that Jordan puts on a brave face about. Things like “Love Island” and “Jersey Shore”. Jordan gets queasy just scrolling past them. There was a time before they became one of Brink’s favorites that their parents kept pushing them to try and be an entertainment Supe. No one is taking you that seriously, anyways! Maybe you’ll do better in the reality TV circuit. It’s unlikely Jordan will ever get stuck in projects like that now. They’ve proven they can be a heavy hitter. Proven that they’re strong enough to not need to sell themselves as cheap, easily-digestible, entertainment. Still, they don’t like thinking of the alternate world where they’re having to sit in front of a camera and do twenty retakes of “authentic” confessional room venting.

Stu Macher - He likes reality TV and doesn’t care who knows. Hooray! A shared interest… except watching these shows with him will piss you the fuck off. He has dog-shit opinions about everything. You will never be rooting for the same people. You will never agree on who handled a situation better. He’s always rooting for the asshole, it seems. You don’t even think he’s doing it to be contrary or to make you mad. He’s genuinely on their side (most of the time… he does enjoy making you mad.) Watching reality TV with Stu makes you want to kill him. It also makes you look at him funny. Why are you always siding with the bastards? You don’t think Ekin-Su needed to apologize? Stu, are you out of your fucking mind?

Josh Washington - You’re gonna try to tell me that the twins weren’t making him paint toenails while they pulled all nighters of “The Bachelor”? Sure, okay, if you’d like to believe that. And his inner circle consists of Emily and Jess? Please. He’s been watching trashy TV for years. He’s watched a little of everything. He is so well acquainted with the dark underbelly of reality TV that it would roll over for a tummy rub from him. It knows his scent. He can easily keep track of the names, faces, and plots. Who’s fucking who. Who hates who. Who’s forming secret alliances. You’ll probably be more lost than Josh ever gets. He’s a day one. He’s an OG.

❥ who is pissed off to even be hearing about it second-hand ❥

Sparrow!Ben Hargreeves - He has better shit to do than watch reality TV show crap all day, and so do you. These are the kinds of harsh words that will be waiting for you if you try and get him to watch anything fun with you. Ask him one too many times and, like a parent who is annoyed that you are bothering him, he will begin to fill up any moment of free time the two of you have with activities. No, babe, we can’t watch “90 Day Fiance.” Why? Because we’ve got to run the marathon for kids with cancer and then we’ve got dinner with the mayor after that. You two are gonna be booked and busy. You were obviously bored. Now you won’t have time to even think!

Kevin Khatchadourian - Please don’t remind him so blatantly of his own intellectual superiority over you (he’s an asshole.) He gets the ick of the century when you try and tell him what happened during one of your little…programs. If you have the audacity to take it a step further and ask him to watch with you? He’s rendered speechless. Since when is this relationship a safe space? He doesn’t enjoy well-written, heart-stopping, incredible genre-defining movies and television. And yet, somehow, you’re so delusional you think he’s gonna sit through reality television with you? Don’t piss him off. He doesn’t even bother responding. Enjoy the view of his back as he walks away!

❥ secret fourth worse thing ❥

Nathan Prescott - Nathan is once again in a category of his own, which you might call: too nosy to not get into it, but doesn't want you to know he enjoys it. He made fun of you when you first started to watch reality TV. He can’t go back on his word now. If you were cuddling on the couch he’d have his face turned into your stomach and dramatically roll his eyes at your absentminded head rubbing. Could we focus on what’s important please? But then the plots started thickening and the heated exchanges started to pique his interest. He knew he was cooked when he started recognizing names, who was booed up with who… wait that disloyal prick hooked up with who this week?! He tells you to just replay the episode because you’re explaining it shitty and you obviously want him to watch it and talk to you about it. It isn’t for his benefit at all. Turn the subtitles on, god dammit.

A/N: this was really fun! how did you know i've been watching reality TV shows lately?? if you enjoyed these headcanons consider reblogging, leaving a reply, or an anon! a writers fuel is engagement. xoxoxo

#crazy ass boys gang #black!reader #black reader #billy loomis x reader #jordan li x reader #josh washington imagines #nathan prescott x reader #jd x reader #jason dean x reader #stu macher x reader #sebastian valmont x reader #ben hargreeves x reader #kevin khatchadourian x reader #david mccall x reader #ben wants to tire you out like a mom who puts their kid in karate and soccer and gymnastics five days a week #this one made me laugh while writing it

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vxiphoid · 3 days

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ARTIST’S CANVAS

❨ summary ❩ twst › when you look at a pretty blank canvas, its only natural you’d want to turn it into something more breathtaking.

tags ✧ fluff; lower case writing.

amanuensis’ message ⊹ 10 months, not a single written fic. i am so sorry yall

⌜ 0.4+ ⌟

♫ spin you round — rocco.

twst masterlist

“s’cold.”

the dark—almost black—paste coating leona’s hand in intricate designs setting on his skin mixed with the warmth of your hands around his felt funny. the paste was a drastic contrast upon his tawny skin. on occasion, he’d let your creative mind take over and draw on him with any writing utensil that was nearby. in class, it’d give him an excuse not to pay attention and in his dorm, your lap to sleep while you worked. half of the time when you were finished, he considered getting another tattoo, snapping a picture when you looked away just in case it faded. not once had he thought of a temporary tattoo.

the first thing that came to mind when he thought of temporary were the ones on paper that you’d transfer with water. ones that he’d slap on his body to look cool as a kid. the same ones that’ll start peeling the moment you brush it wrong. this was a completely different method than what he was thinking. a creamy consistency of dye in a piping bag. henna. it rolled off the tongue as smooth as its application.

a light laugh leaves your lips at his comment, pausing to give him a quick glance. he looked like a cat watching a ping pong match. you don’t think you’ve ever seen his pupils this large and his slowly swaying tail certainly wasn’t helping the comparison.

leona watched in silent interest as you worked. It had to be something about your hands. How your pinky stayed out for stabilization, how carefully you held his hand as if you’d break it if you moved him a certain way. then again, he could also blame that on the amount of focus you had. they moved with practiced grace, your emerald-green painted nails glinting under the golden lamp light.

his sheets were littered with various templets and stencils complicated, simple, and some in the middle. he didn’t look at everything before he chose his. he didn’t exactly care what you put on him as long as that pretty little head of yours was having some semblance of fun, those talented hands of yours.

his ear flicks. “what color is this again?”

you take a moment to pull his hand closer to the light when it came down to the finer details. “regular old brown. it might look a little reddish in the sun though.”

“neon?”

you scoff out a laugh. “gods, no. way more subtle.”

even after you had laughed, your smile stayed—as heartwarming and raw as ever. like a sweetener in a cup of coffee he could never get tired to drinking or the smell of gas he found a guilt pleasure. gods, he wanted to hear it again.

maybe being a living, plain canvas wasn’t so bad. as long as it was you painting the blank spots needing filled.

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sweetestbasil · 2 days

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RUBATOSIS || chapter two: bloating

PAIRING : Dr.Gaul's Assistant!Coriolanus Snow x Experiment!Reader-Insert ( afab, they / them, sometimes it, no explicit use of y/n )

RATING : 18+ ( tw body horror / slight sexual content )

WORD COUNT : 20, 501

WARNINGS : infidelity ( coryo's engaged to livia ), power imbalance, unreliable narrator ( it's 3rd POV but focuses on coryo's view ), unhealthy dynamics, dehumanizing language, medical experimentation, operation treated as a metaphor for sex, sexual disassociation, body horror-esque, coryo and gaul are messed up in this fic, he's more like his book version than movie

SUMMARY : 🙶 rubatosis - noun. the unsettling awareness of your own heartbeat 🙷

Fortune, marriage, and success - all within the hands of Coriolanus Snow, and it still isn’t enough to satisfy him. Tigris has grown distant and Livia is far more trouble than it's worth.

Dr. Gaul has just the solution for him.

A/N : Sorry for how long this took, work has kept me busy. If there are any mistakes let me know, and I hope you all like chapter two.

[ If you want to read it on AO3 instead ] [ chapter one ]

bloating || skin slippage - stage two of decomposition

By now, he was already starting to feel ill.

The beaded drops of sweat that started to latch itself onto the bare palms of his hands made them feel all the more off-putting. It made the effort of wanting ( at least, an attempt of so ) to keep a grip on the smooth skin between his fingers a far more burdensome task than needed. His hips shifting back and forth to meet with Livia’s; every single moment of their flesh meeting together, every moan and airy breath that was drawn out of her, it never failed to make him internally recoil. Since adolescent age, he always expected sex to feel passionate, the shot of nerves as if they were on fire from sheer pleasure. Festus had spoken such a great deal of it during meals at the Academy, leaning down into the group of their male peers and speaking in hushed whispers in fear someone nearby would listen in. It was hard not to feel delightfully shocked, with the flushed color on Festus’s cheeks, the juvenile gleam in his eyes.

What a liar.

Never once had he engaged in sexual activities himself prior to… to his graduation from the Academy. Only some heavy grabbing between perspired kisses, and maybe a rut, or two, with another. Livia had been his first, when it came to full on sexual intercourse.

And what an exhausting experience it was!

All that sweat, the cum, having to kiss Livia repeatedly to get the room a bit more quiet - he felt like he had been robbed. Was this not supposed to be some pivotal moment? That some inner, ‘carnal desire’ that others had boasted about would be satiated the moment he lost virginity. Yet, in the end, all he did was feel more empty, starved than he was before having sex with Livia. Starved he still was, when he walked in and out the doors of Pluribus Bell’s nightclubs. Coriolanus wondered at times, where he found himself bare and pressed against another, if there was something wrong with him. Or if maybe, if it was someone else, had it been any one of those two, would he have felt anything.

He didn’t want to question it further.

In the end, Livia always rested on the other side of his bed satisfied. If he was lucky enough to cum himself; he’d try to either sleep the experience off, or leave his place quickly with an offhand excuse, depending on the time.

His tired eyes gazed up from the expanse of Livia’s back. Coriolanus was grateful that today Livia and him fell into a position where the both of them didn’t have to make eye contact with each other. If he stared too long at just one thing, there was a chance his eyes might just become blind from desensitization. Peeks of daybreak managed their way through the dark, rich curtains of his bedroom window. The light casted over his bed in a restrained fashion, hitting his right bare shoulder and slightly onto the lower spine of Livia. He’d soon have to get ready for work after this was all done.

What a freak, he sounded like.

That he was far more excited to be working than being caught by the charms of another woman. A woman that eventually, in just a few months, was going to be the wife, the mother of his children, the one he comes home to. It felt like a nightmare. Maybe this was the “ball and chain”; that the breathing fossils in suits would harp on about at social functions, emptied bottles of posca rolling beside their sleek shoes on the floor.

Lazily, he slid his left hand up from its gripped position on Livia’s waist. The sweat between them making the glide smooth, as he ran his fingers up her shoulder blades. In all their mornings and nights, spent wrapped in the sweltering sheets, Coriolnaus doesn’t think he’s ever seen any noticeable blemishes on Livia. No freckles, no moles, no beauty marks. Not even a small scar from playing too rough in the playground. There was no argument that could be made: Livia Cardew is the perfect Capital woman. The clean expanse of flesh and the untainted blood that ran underneath spoke levels enough.

But, it also made her obscenely bland.

Sure, she’s ambitious.

Livia could be quite the cutthroat when needed, if it meant the spotlight and praise was on her. It was the few things they had in common. Though, there was no physical sign to her character, aside from her sense of fashion and the style of hair she did each morning. Even then, anyone with half a mind might protest if any of that really was part of her. Livia’s never shy when it comes to chasing the current trends of Panem. But, what’s so good about being a trend chaser if you don’t even anything else more remarkable? By all means, become the beacon of hope to the everyday Capital citizen. Tell them that with enough wealth, maybe they can buy their way into a personality, too.

Grimacing, the sensation of Livia’s body tightening around him brought him out of his daze. She was close to finishing. Meaning he was closer to being able to leave. Though, a crumb of uncertainty lodged itself into Coriolanus. It was something he dealt with before.

There was just a small window of time to decide: should he try to finish alongside Livia, or should he cum alone in his bathroom, after.

Maybe if she stopped moving her hips so wildly against him, it’d give him more space to think. His fingers slid back down her spine, the faintest shape of the laminae was jutting out, as Livia arched her back against him. Coriolanus leaned his face down, starting from the bottom of her spine he pressed his lips against her skin. Trailing open-mouthed kisses up, the salty taste of her perspiration lingered itself on his tongue. It made him internally recoil.

He’d have to scrub his teeth a bit more thoroughly, before he headed off to work.

Coriolanus felt bad for Livia’s parents. They most likely hoped that by setting this arrangement with Livia and him, that eventually, the two of them could become obsessed with each other. The truth of the matter is, sex between them both was just more so a formality. Something to give this engagement a sense of normalcy. He definitely wasn’t Livia’s type, and she wasn’t his. His type was… Coriolanus wondered, if Livia carried more imperfections on her, would she have appealed more to him?

He tried to see it.

What would he have here instead, if not just the vast expanse of soft skin. Sheltered away, easy access to the finest things Panem had to offer a girl. Would some blemishes be nice on Livia? It could be cute, if she was flustered about it. A mole? No, Coriolanus wouldn’t consider that an imperfection, unlike Livia. Maybe a scar? That could be interesting, they usually carried a story. Some uneven patches of skin that haven't healed perfectly, possibly from a botched stitch job.

His hand reached up to brush aside the sweat soaked ends of Livia’s hair, away from her neck. He could see it now, the image of that messy, metaphorical scar. The slight discoloration, the dip in the muscle, showing him just how deep the wound went. Coriolanus kissed the nape of her neck.

What would it be like to run his tongue along it?

The hand that was so firmly placed on Livia’s hip, left its spot. Instead, he moved it farther down and under her. How would Livia react, if he put so much attention on an imperfection of hers? Would it draw a choked out sound from her, an embarrassing reaction? It would be so different from the prideful image she carried everyday. Livia’s hips jerked against his own, as his fingers slid themselves between her soaked folds and up. Reaching her clit, his middle finger played with it to help her between the gasps of breath. They both hated each other, but Livia could never call him a selfish lover. Even if he wished for more from her. Even if he desired to see her as someone, something, different as she fell apart under his touch.

How funny would it be, if he took a page from Dr. Gaul’s book. Have her undergo a similar treatment to Project Prometheus, let her be redone as a blank slate. Coriolanus thought about it for a second; the lines of stitches that he traced so carefully under his gloved fingers.

The pace of his hips stuttered.

A sharp intake from his nostrils, Coriolanus quickly bit down on Livia’s neck to prevent the sound of a moan leaving his lips. He could feel the discomforting sensation of the condom filling up. It made his body shudder at the feeling, Livia’s back pressed flush against his chest. Slowly, gradually, his teeth removed themselves from Livia’s skin, taking steady breaths between his lips to try and collect himself. He brushed back a curled strand of golden hair from his forehead, the hair slightly soaked from sweat.

Well… Isn’t this just humiliating for him? The briefest thought about work somehow got him to finish.

He really was a freak.

Not that he’d tell a soul on earth about this. Imagine the stares he’d get if he confessed that thinking about work gets him to cum. Not the body of his fiance, not a pretty face under dark lights. Work. They’d be convinced that it may have been a better option to have abandoned him at District 12, rather than bring him back to the Capital. Coriolanus moved himself away from Livia, lifting himself off of her to stand his back tall once more. He grimaced throughout the entire movement, as the sweltering touch of their skin together was becoming far too noticeable for his liking. He was reminded again, about how much he could withstand Livia before his patience wore thin.

“That… was interesting…” Livia spoke in a breathy tone, a slight whimper at the end as Coriolanus pulled himself out of her.

He offered the back of her head a brief glance, before continuing to pull the condom off of him and tie it. “Something wrong?” He never really bothered to speak enthusiastically to Livia. The one time he did try to talk softly to her when they were alone, she threw him a look of disgust and told him to stop. That she found it ‘creepy’.

Livia shifted herself further into his bed, bringing her arms under one of his fine cotton pillows to nestle her face further into it. She stretched her limbs out, ankles crossing over each other. Great, she was making herself comfortable.

“No, nothing’s wrong.” She must think she’s hilarious for playing coy. “I’m just surprised you managed to stick through the entire thing. For a moment, I was almost worried for your health. You know, impotence is not just for the old.”

“Very funny, Livia.”

He wanted her out already.

Doesn’t she have any friends she should go visit? Or a family waiting for her?

He didn’t bother to look at her, instead getting up from the bed to move to his nightstand. Coriolanus grabbed the alarm clock that rested on it, holding the smooth frame of wood in his hands. Checking the time was far more interesting than participating in this conversation. It was pointless banter, with Livia just trying to get a rise out of him.

“I should say the same to you. What happened to ‘just wanting to rest for the night’?”

It was just shy of six thirty in the morning.

His ears picked on the sound of Livia sucking her teeth a few spaces behind him. Coriolanus rolled his eyes, placing the alarm clock back down with a quiet thud. Quietly, with steady steps, he walked past the lush, wine-colored carpet under his bed and into the connecting door that led to his bathroom. He turned the light switch on, its warm hue from the intricately adorned wall lamps illuminated the entire space.

Before, it always used to be a jarring experience to feel the icy tile of the bathroom floor, it was a miracle if the heater didn’t manage to bust down during the night. Now, stepping his bare foot in without a care, the mosaic marble floor didn’t make him want to jump out of his skin. There was an adequate warmth from the heaters lined at the bottom of the floors. Though, he did slightly ( barely ) miss the cold. If his alarm clock failed to jolt him awake for class, he could always depend on the freezing appliances and water to finish the job. He turned, facing the large sink vanity. The top of the sink was made from sleek ceramic marble, with the cabinets beneath it being made from polished blackwood. Lined against the wall under the vanity, stood a multitude of care products he had taken to purchase for himself. However, something curious caught Coriolanus’s eye. Livia had made her own small collection here, too. Not as plentiful as he had, considering this is his bathroom, but she had her own products that she often left behind. A ‘just in case’, when she stayed nights here.

Coriolanus was half tempted to tell her to get rid of them. If the products were that important, she could carry it in a duffel bag when she came over. Or, she could just handle doing a brisk walk of shame to her chauffeur's car, so she could go home and wash herself. His home wasn’t her extra storage unit.

Outside his bedroom door, he could hear just the faintest sounds of someone moving on the floor below. It was very quiet, the slightest noise of clanging pots and pans. The warm smell of coffee being brewed and warm cooking oil bled through the halls of the estate, and seeped under the cracks of the door. Perfect, the cook came in just in time. If he was lucky, the cook would finish his breakfast just before he came down and he’d be able to finish it quickly before work. Just before Livia could come down. He hadn’t forgotten her actions previously, he noticed how eager she seemed to make a pattern.

Wasn’t this supposed to be his place of comfort?

Here he was in his new home, trying to get some independence away from his family and a woman he didn’t even love was intruding upon it. Coriolanus took the toothbrush from its ceramic holder on the wall, wetting the bristles under the turned on faucet before applying the paste. Bringing it up and into his mouth, he started to scrub thoroughly. The phone connected to his bedside had started to ring. Coriolanus made a gesture to move his body to get it, but Livia beat him to it.

He’d let her take it, for now. He wasn’t fond of it, but if his fiance was the one answering the phone, it’d sell their image of a ‘perfect marriage’ better.

He glanced from the corner of the doorway to see Livia take the handset of the black dial phone in her hands, before he went back to finish brushing his teeth. She answered in a faux sweet tone:

“Livia Cardew, soon to be Livia Snow, speaking.”

Ew.

Just broadcast to the whole world at this point. Hearing her say it aloud brought a chill down his spine. It was true, but it still was a jarring reality to accept.

“Oh, Tigris! Good morning, how are you?”

Coriolanus quickly spat out the paste from his mouth, the mixture of its foam and his spit splattered against the drain.

“Coriolanus? He’s in the bathroom right now. Do you want me to go grab him for you?”

Was his heart racing? He felt like his heart was racing.

His hand gripped at the edges of the marble top, while the other reached to turn back on the faucet. Trembling, his fingers, wrapping around the lever to lift it up and twist to warm. It had been a moment since Tigris sought to call him. Since he left home, it’s always been him to reach out. If he just left it up to her, he feared that he’d only hear from her once a year. She’d probably like it to be that way, too, knowing her. But, he’d never let it happen. He was always going to remind her of the fact that the both of them are family. Regardless of what he did, what he’ll do, the connection of blood between them was never going to diminish. He had lost them, he wasn’t going to let himself lose her, too.

Maybe he should wash his mouth out quicker, to go and speak to her, Coriolanus reasoned.

His hands cupped around the running water, bringing it up to his mouth to swish it around. What did Tigris want to tell him? Was it something mundane? Did she want to check on him? But, it was unlikely, unless Tigris miraculously had a change of heart through the night. Which meant most likely she was calling for an emergency. That made his heart sink worse at the thought. Had Grandma’am’s health declined? Did a doctor notice an abnormality in Tigris’s body?

“You just wanted him to relay something to me? Well, I’m here now, I’m all ears.”

Coriolanus spit the water out his mouth, and grabbed the mouthwash for extra measure.

…So.

She didn’t want to speak to him.

She just wanted him to play sweet messenger boy for Livia.

Taking the small amount of mouthwash into his mouth, he closed his lips to swirl it around the crevices inside. The sound of Livia’s conversation with Tigris began to drown itself out into a white noise. Coriolanus didn’t really care what they were talking about anymore. It wasn’t for him, so it really didn’t matter. He should’ve expected the result. But, it stung just a bit, knowing that she preferred Livia over him. He never expected that designing one dress somehow endeared the seamstress to the client.

What did that mean for him? Tigris had designed, fixed, and traded the majority of his clothes. Was there a limit? Too much work, and suddenly the seamstress only answers calls when the full moon is out and the lucky lottery color of the day is green. Coriolanus spit the mouthwash out into the sink, the strong taste of medicinal mint left on his tongue. Not a single trace of Livia’s taste remained. His hand held onto the faucet’s lever, twisted it back to turn it off. The sleek, cool material of brass slipped out from his fingers, as he brought his palm down. Across the smooth marble top and down to grip at its edges, where it hung just a bit over the blackwood cabinet. Distantly, he watched the remnants of water slowly leak down to the drain.

What had he done? Coriolanus genuinely wanted to know. What had he done, personally, to Tigris, that made her so distasteful towards him?

Ever since he had come back from District 12, when he had told her that he was to be accepted into the University and work under Dr. Gaul’s assistant full-time, Tigris had spoken to him so meekishly, so quietly. When he, on the other hand, had hoped to share this joy with his beloved cousin. Having been recently discharged from that hellscape, and finding new success by his merits finally being acknowledged, Strabo Plinth taking him on as a replacement son - he thought she’d be happy for him. That with their penthouse now off the market, that it spoke to a new wave of golden years for the Snow family. They could finally go back to where things used to be. No longer did they have to worry so much about helping Grandma’am up the stairs, when the elevator broke down. No more, did Tigris have to go through tight street corners and rusted alleyways to exchange goods. Was this not what they wanted? What she wanted?

Coriolanus’s jaw locked into a grit, his knuckles tightening in grip.

Did she just want something new to coddle and dote on? That maybe, rather it being something wrong with him; he just no longer appealed to her naive delusions. Was he not still, the same young boy who’d hold her hand during festivals…? Something glazed over his eyes and he blinked it away quickly, raising his head back up to look at his own reflection.

No, this shouldn’t discourage him.

If anything, it should invigorate him more to proceed with this damned wedding. If dangling Livia on a hook was what it took to keep Tigris still in contact with him, then so be it. And if she grew tired of Livia, then he’d bring her a new one. The pound never ran out of pets to parade.

Coriolanus walked over to the shower, turning it on. Sliding open the glass panels just a smidge more, for his body to slip through. He let the shower head rain over him, wetting his pushed back hair; the combed out strands starting to curl under the exposure, falling along his forehead. Coriolanus was thankful, for the beating sound of water hitting the tiles. It drowned out even more, the noise of Livia’s voice. Her obnoxious laughter was almost non-existent at this point. His hand reached out to the indented shelf built into the shower wall, touching the honed, pine green porcelain tiles. A different focus was what he needed. He needed something else to think about.

Grabbing the bottle of body wash, and the hanging shower luffa, he popped the bottle open. The smell of vanilla and roses touched the steamed air. Lathering the luffa against his hand, when the foam of soapy bubbles finally formed, he brought it towards his body. What a luxury it was, to be able to use things like shower gels and brushes, rather than a bar of mediocre soap and a worn-out rag. He scrubbed the luffa against his body, ‘til his skin started to look red and it felt sore against the hot water. The Citadel didn’t necessarily carry out a specific requirement of cleanliness, but working with other researchers and touching dangerous materials and waste alike; a thorough wash seemed second nature for the job. And the easily swooned crowds of Capital elites always enjoyed a well-groomed figure to stand behind.

If he showed up and greeted Dr. Gaul with the slightest speck of dirt under his nails, she’d chew him out viciously. He’s seen her humiliate workers for less at the Citadel, forcing them to endure the embarrassment of washing their hands in front of her until she’s satisfied. Coriolanus feared that due to their ‘friendly’ bond, she might even go as far as to wash his hands herself. Dr. Gaul’s pruned hands touching his own? He shuddered. A grimace forced his lips into a frown. Closing his eyes to chase out the thought, he brought his head under the water. He scrubbed the conditioner out until he no longer felt any residue in his hair.

He wanted to focus on something else.

Watching the suds of soap slowly enter the drain, he tried to think of Livia. When he dried off, would she still be in bed? They’ve seen each other naked plenty of times, but getting ready together… That felt like a level of intimacy that Coriolanus was not keen on sharing with her. She might even feel the same. He hummed quietly to himself as he turned off the hot water. When they eventually move in together, he should consider making her a personal room in the mansion. He could only tolerate sharing a bed with her some nights. It wasn’t everyday of the week she stayed over, which is why he never spoke out before. Sighing through his mouth, his hand rubbed the bridge of his nose. He slid open the glass shower panel, extending his arm out first, to grab the crimson, cotton towel from the brass hanger. The soft towel was promptly wrapped around his head to shuffle around his wet locks, drying it just well enough before stretching out the fabric to wrap around his waist. Mist from the shower followed after him, as he stepped out of it.

As he made his way back to the sink vanity, he noticed the vague shape of something left next to the sink bowl. He picked it up in his hands, the discarded, salmon colored toothbrush of Livia; wet in his hands. Coriolanus’s face pulled a frown, placing it back correctly. Since when did Tigris and her finish talking? He barely noticed Livia entering and using the bathroom while he showered. Grabbing onto the doorframe of the bathroom, he peeked his head out slightly.

No Livia resting in bed.

His clothes for the day were already picked out for him, laying there instead at the foot of his bed. A relief he didn’t know he craved, filled him immediately.

Blue eyes moved to another target of focus, noticing quite clearly the empty space where one of his robes should very obviously be. And the dread had made its way back into his system!

Coriolanus zipped his head back into the bathroom.

Quickly, he thought. Quickly, he needed to finish getting ready, grabbing the bottle of moisturizer in one hand and plugging in the blowdryer in the other. She is trying to corner him at the breakfast table today. What more did she want? Does she need a favor? Is it another ‘date’? He prayed it wasn’t the latter. He wants to go into work on a good note. Coriolanus checked his face in the mirror; clear of any new, stray hairs around his lips and chin. Flicking out the tooth comb from its place, he took a small amount of pomade and brushed his ( mostly ) dried hair back and to the side. The curls in his hair smoothed themselves out against the comb’s teeth. In his transition back to his room, the towel that loyally clung to his hips was left discarded on the bathroom floor; his legs swiftly moving to slot themselves into a new, clean pair of underwear. He didn’t think much as he put on the ironed white button up, adorning the fitted waist vest over it and matching deep-red colored trousers that hid the black, cotton sock garters underneath. Carefully, he looped the rich black leather belt through the loops of the slack, a satisfying clink from the buckle when he locked in place. With one last look in the mirror, necessities all gathered, and a spray of cologne, he fit himself into his shoes and went out the bedroom door and where he knew Livia was waiting for him.

“Chef, if you could please, pack my breakfast and coffee to go. I have to head into work soon,” Coriolanus actually had thirty minutes to spare. Frankly, he could lounge around and start up a new book if he wanted.

“What? You’re not even late, you’re perfectly on time!” Livia cried out, her head turned to his figure now entering the room.

Sitting just right across from his usual seat, she was wearing the oh-so-familiar robe that was missing before. The entire round table, covered by a white table-cloth and a vase of freshly plucked white roses at the center, was filled to each end with an abundance of food. Varying ranges to pancakes and crepes, bowls of yogurt and sliced fruits, to freshly cooked eggs and meats such as sausages, sliced ham, and bacon. He wished so badly that he could take his time to pick out his selection and eat. But, alas. Coriolanus walked over to Livia, his overcoat and gloves already being put on. A hand against the top of her chair, he leaned his head down to give a kiss to the side of her cheek; Livia grumbled under her breath in response. The cook he hired belonged to him, they would never snitch about the facade between them, but one was never too sure.

“I’m sorry, Dr. Gaul called me in,” A lie, but nothing outlandish. “You know how she can be, I don’t want to keep her waiting.”

Livia rolled her eyes at him before going to pick at her plate, her fork poking a bit at the strawberries and bananas she had on her pancakes. He raised an eyebrow, faking a questionable gaze. Internally, however, he was gloating in self-satisfaction. His fears in the morning shower were shown to be warranted, as he watched her. Livia looked akin to a spoiled child who had just been told no.

“Is something wrong? What happened?” Coriolanus brought the hand away from her chair, bringing it down to touch her shoulder. He gave it a small squeeze, an extra effort to really upsell his image of a ‘loving husband’.

A sigh came from Livia’s lips.

“Nothing’s wrong.” Then she should stop throwing a tantrum. “I was just hoping to talk to you about my wedding dress. Tigris finally secured all the material, so she wants me to come in to do some fittings while she gets started on it.”

So that’s what his cousin wasted his call-line on. For something so trivial, too. The Cardew’s home-line should be working just fine: or did Mommy Cardew waste too much money on her trophy of a husband and neglect the phone bill?

“Really? Well, that’s great news, isn’t it!” Coriolanus laughed at the end of his words. Frankly, it was terrible news. It just reminded him constantly of the looming date. It hung over his head like a jail sentence. “What do you need me for? It seems you two have it handled here,” He tried to make his words sound encouraging, but he couldn’t help the slight envy that skipped in his tone. Livia knew it too. This time, she was the one raising a brow back at him.

“I thought you’d be curious to see what we planned. I have the sketch Tigris drew up right here,”

Coriolanus’s brows creased, the smile dropping slightly off his face. He gave her a look of confusion. He wasn’t really quite sure what she was expecting out of him seeing her dress. Validation? Praise? Or, could she see right past him. Maybe she had sourced out the root to his bitter tone. He wondered what Tigris and her spoke about in these appointments. They likely gossiped about him. No doubt Tigris gave her pitiful woes to Livia, how terrified she was to see him again in person. That even a phone call with him had her fingers trembling when it spun the dial. And Livia, undoubtedly ate it all up. It’s why she wanted to show him the sketch. Show him just how close the two became. Coriolanus grinded his teeth internally, the slightest nudge of his jaw ticked.

Her hands reached into his robe that she wore, the sound of paper being shuffled and rustled around being heard. Did she keep other papers in there? She couldn’t possibly be turning some of his belongings into hers. Maybe he should think twice about leaving Livia alone in his home. With manicured nails, Livia pulled out a folded piece of sketch paper, a slight crease at the edge. Opening it up, she placed the paper on the table first. With one hand, Livia did her best at smoothing the edges out before handing it over to him. A simple ‘Here’ was all she said.

Coriolanus accepted the paper, embarrassingly quick, soaking in its details.

The paper was made of coarse, recycled sketch paper, giving a tan hue. There was a smell of graphite and ink that lifted off the paper. Scribbled in the corner were small, little drawings. Variety of poses and designs that have crossed out under ink, ideas that no longer worked. The drawing that had taken the majority of the page was a quick mock sketch of assumingly, Livia. Her hair was pinned up in a stacked bun style, with a pearl caul piece on it. Pins of white roses and buds placed at random adorned the head. Expectantly, the veil was made to match it. A mesh see through material, with rosebuds and pearls scattered around, lace at the ends of it. A pearl necklace was adorned on the sketch’s neck. The dress was a sweetheart neckline, plunged and fitted at the top with white embroidery. The fabric near sheer underneath, turning more opaque when it hit the waist, fitted all until the ankle, where the dress flared and spread. White rosebuds were sprinkled around the calf line, blooming into full flowers as it reached the bottom. Curious though, that the white rosebuds gradually transitioned to red flowers when it touched the ends. It gave the silhouette of Livia’s pure white dress having been dragged through blood. Coriolanus couldn’t understand why Livia would agree to the design. It felt like Tigris was trying to push some personal agenda forward by doing so. He knew there were few elders who still carried the belief that wearing red at a wedding meant something scandalous. Back before, when Panem had yet to be made. Something about being intimate with the groom? Livia is his fiance, so most attendants would hope they’ve slept together.

Did Tigris believe he was supposed to be promised with another?

He ‘dated’ ( was used by ) only one person.

Coriolanus sucked his teeth.

“You don’t like the dress?”

“No, that’s not it,” He might downright hate the dress, actually. If his assumption is right. Coriolanus paused in between his words. Usually, he’d have no issue throwing verbal jabs at Livia. It was a thing that both did to each other. However. It’d be humiliating for him to admit out loud that she needed to change the dress because of a past ex. He sighed,

“I just… slightly regret not asking Tigris to design my suit, too.” Ugh, that sounded too vulnerable now. He needed to reel back in. “Thank you for showing it to me, though. I’ll send you the name of my designer later to send it over, it’ll be nice to have matching attire for our wedding.” He handed the paper back to Livia. Her eyes had an unreadable look to them, as if wanting to say something else. His skin itched under her sight. Don’t say anything. Don’t say–

“Mr. Snow, I have your breakfast packed and ready,”

Eagerly, Coriolanus diverted his gaze away from Livia, giving her the briefest ‘apologetic’ glances before turning his head. Emerging from the connecting hall that led to the kitchen, the cook had taken a step forward towards him. In one hand, they held two breakfast sausages, each one wrapped with an omelette; they were held in tight, folded wax paper to avoid the food’s oil spreading. The other, held the mug of coffee, and a folded, square, white box carrier made of cardboard on their spare fingers. The carrier held minimal, barely any, patterns. Small etchings of abatina flowers and leaves on it. The corners of lips ticked up gradually at the sight of it, a hint of teeth poking out from his smile. His mood had started to turn itself up slowly. The situation just seconds before, now was taking a backseat in his psyche. This, needed his attention. And he’d gladly give it. He didn’t want to think about Tigris anymore. He didn’t want to think about the wedding. Coriolanus reached his hand over to take his belongings away from the cook.

Just think about work today.

“Thank you, you know I always appreciate your work here.” They were getting paid a hefty paycheck, he’d sure hope they were putting their best in everything. “If you mind telling me, what’s in here today?” He was gesturing to the carrier. Lifting it slightly in the air with his finger to emphasize it.

“It’s a cheesecake, with a slightly burned outer layer.”

His eyes creased slightly with his smile.

“Perfect, thank you.”

Coriolanus turned his head back to Livia, who had finally started to eat away at her plate, rather than play. Catching her mid-bite, he asked, as any future husband would: “Will you be here when I come back?” If the cook wasn’t here, Livia would’ve sneered harshly at his feigned curiosity.

“We’ll see. I have some extended family visiting today after my appointment with Tigris,” Oh, so the circus was getting back together. “If you get off work early, you should come by. They’d love to see you.” He’s sure they would.

“We’ll see,”

He repeated the words back to her, before dipping his head back down to give her another kiss. This one just shy above her lips, before pulling away and finally leaving the estate’s premises. Coriolanus hoped his displays of affection ruined her morning, just as her presence ruined his.

The crisp, cold air outside waited for him, keeping him company as he made his trek to the Citadel. Weaving carefully through other citizens, it was thankfully less crowded than normal. He managed to avoid the morning rush of workers; a consolation, that he didn’t have to worry too much about accidentally bumping into someone with his full hands. The steady buzz of the moving trolleys, the humble, yet luxurious cars that drove through Panem’s streets, was at a far lower frequency. Low, and only the occasional loud noise from shops and stores getting to open, the bells of the door a distant chime. He felt almost alone. A great contrast from the minimal chaos before. It gave him space, it gave him clarity. The quietness gave him time to think. Coriolanus tried to ease himself down, as he took his first sip of coffee. He should find the change of scenery liberating. If he stayed any longer in that suffocating environment, he feared he would have snapped right then and there. The headlines would be clear as day: ‘Snow & Plinth Heir Strangles Fiance in their New Home’! He’d lose everything if he couldn’t keep his patience in check. The tightrope he walked on always was fine, and narrow. Everything he did had an audience, and each step he took had an effect. All he wanted was just a moment to breathe.

A steady exhale from his mouth, careful to not be so loud in the tame atmosphere. The movement causing the carrier in his fingers to jostle a bit.

That’s right, he still had this under his control.

It’s such a simple thing to bring his thoughts back down to the concrete path he walked. The weight of the carrier in his hand felt significantly lighter, easier to hold amongst the other things he carried. It gave his tense mind a small fuse of excitement. Curiosity lit his neurons anew, wondering what Subject A01’s reaction would be to the ‘gift’. He had the cook make it specifically for them. Since he held the first exam for the subject, he’s made it a habit to visit it. Not too often, to not cause a rise of suspicion, but enough to satisfy what he needed. Three times a week seemed fair enough. It had only been just a month since.

Coriolanus saw a first glimpse of how Dr. Gaul had conditioned it and affected its mind with only simple verbal conferences. He wanted to take that approach and raise it further: the introduction of spoils to Project Prometheus.

It started small. First, it was small things like hard delights. Hard caramels, strawberry suckers, or tart lemon candy. He’d speak to it, asking questions and probing, coaxing more answers out of them. Coriolanus noted before how limited and short the subject’s responses were. When the subject had started to speak more, he brought them more elaborate sweets. Moving away from candy, he re-introduced simple, but satisfying delicacies back to their tongue. Butter cookies, bites of meringue, and pieces of milk chocolate. He knew that the subject was being fed enough at Lab C09, the fact that their bones didn’t protrude abnormally back in the exam showed that. However, he knew it most definitely wasn’t enough to satiate. He knew hunger well, he’s starved through these familiar streets before. But, even when he had to succumb to the bland boil of potatoes and dated cans of food from the Dark Days; his young self always craved more. Reminiscing of times of sweet toffee and rich peanut brittle he used to eat at festivals while feasting on dubious scrapped food. Project Prometheus’s brain was a blank slate so, infuriatingly, memories of such possible past luxuries meant nothing to them. But, it was smart enough to see the obvious difference between bland slop for meals, and carefully crafted desserts.

It’s so funny, Coriolanus thought. How malleable they’ve become under his hand.

Ever since he started this routine of greeting them, engaging in conversation, smiling at them, giving them a treat at the end; he noticed how much they’ve changed since then. While still very transparent with him, they used to be more withdrawn, he observed. They still have an issue with being more expressive facial-wise, but he could sense the bits of shyness now within their body language. Everytime he comes to Lab C09 and they see him walking past the glass-pane walls, they eagerly wait for him. It did something to his ego, to see this thing be so excited by his mere presence. Sitting on the examination table, its legs kicking back and forth in the air as it waited idly. Or sometimes, on occasion, he’d find it napping on the exam table. He was more partial to the latter, the silence, the resting expression, completely unguarded; it was almost beguiling. All of it far more tolerable than the people he had to deal with outside of the lab. The subject should feel honored. A former rebel was somehow more pleasing to share a space with than most Capital citizens. He knew he felt so honored, when he was with it. Unconsciously, Subject A01 had begun to revere his presence. He could see, in the small pauses of conversation, it was internally salivating. Waiting for him to show the next gift he had for it. Kind, that was the word Project Prometheus had called him.

And was he not the kindest person in the Citadel, maybe even Panem, for doing this?

Coriolanus doubted any other person would ever think to feed a prisoner. A former rebel. They’d run the moment the subject tried to touch them. He’d even bet some would shriek when they saw how disheveled it was. And yet, here he was. Feeding it like he would a pet. Except this one could communicate back. It told him its favorite color, the animals it remembered, what sweets it preferred from the array he brought in, and the temperature it liked in the lab. Things of personal interest were hard to answer, due to the lack of memory. To make it up to him for this, it described other things to him. It said to him how almost the majority of Lab C09 was renovated for them. Specific doors that tunneled them into different rooms: the examination room, the washroom, the operation room, and its cell bed. It believed that it was for its ease of access. Coriolanus deduced it was to avoid having Project Prometheus use the same halls as the Citadel workers, keeping its movements restricted and monitored. The subject made it a habit to head to the examination room everyday, as that’s usually where Dr. Gaul would be. If something else was needed, the Peacekeepers spoke to the subject through intercoms to notify it. He had asked if it ever tried speaking to the Peacekeepers personally. It hadn’t, finding itself too paralyzed to try. Perhaps a muscle memory, trauma from when it was taken away. He asked if it did anything to stave off the time.

It told him that it would just wait for him.

“Good morning,” Coriolanus spoke with a bright smile on his face, greeting the front desk of the Citadel.

The clerk’s eyes widened at the sight of him, having been in the middle of taking a sip from their mug. Quickly, swallowing it down, dabbing the edges of their pink lipstick with a napkin. “You’re here early, Mr. Snow!” A laugh came out from their slightly smudged lips. Had he really come in that early? Coriolanus knew it was a bit much to expect levels of professionalism at all hours, but if they were in a work setting, there should be some self-imposed standard. He always sees the clerk so put together at all times, a few minutes of difference shouldn’t change that. “Good morning to you, too and welcome back!”

The usual hivemind of workers that he saw every time he came in was far more dwindled down, right now. The smell of coffee beans brewing had yet to stain the air, only wisps of it on occasion. People were still getting their day ready before the clock started. The underlying scent of chemicals was far more prominent, with nothing to hide it. To any outsider, it would’ve been nauseating. But, it gave a heavy-handed reminder to guests the purpose of the Citadel.

“Is Dr. Gaul at the usual?” Chuckling at the end of his words. Coriolanus pointed at the top of his upper lip, tapping it, indicating to the clerk the smudge. Did they not own a mirror, or compact, of sorts?

“O-Oh–!” They quickly dabbed their lips again with a napkin. Much better. He gave the ‘ok’ sign with his fingers. “Y-Yes, she should be.”

“Thank you, you have a good day,”

With one last smile to the front desk clerk, he turned his way to the direction of Lab H05. Heading down the familiar hallway, only a few workers occasionally passed by him. With no rush on either side, they could take the time to exchange pleasantries. Saying good morning to one, complimenting the other on their makeup, and another giving flattery to his choice of apparel. Often, Coriolanus never really bothered himself with things like this. A nod and a smile was enough to make the others feel special. Today’s different, he supposed. Or, maybe it’s something gradual that has been building up. He felt fine for the most part, but maybe that was a trick of the mind. The sign that his mind was on the verge of collapsing soon. There was so much already piling up on him and the clock hadn’t even struck eight yet. Coriolanus worried if he was going to be able to come back home mentally sound by the end of it all. Would Dr. Gaul ever fancy the opportunity of playing therapist for a day? She could be dependable. She’s seen, and made some, if not almost all, the skeletons in his closet.

No, Coriolanus feared if he went to her it’d just make him worse. If he admitted to her aloud that he trusted her as a confidant, the disgust he’d feel at her uncensored glee.

Maybe he really was going crazy.

The warmth of the Citadel was starting to feel sweltering beneath the layers he wore. Coriolanus could feel the slightest damp sensation building at the back of his neck.

“Are you here, Dr. Gaul?”

Coriolanus peeked his head into Lab H05 through the doorway carefully. Catching the familiar silhouette of curly hair through his gaze, he knew the gleam of red, latex leather flexing under the fluorescent lights.

“Coryo,” The breathy, saccharine way she said it still brought him waves of nausea. His stomach turned. Whatever happened to the benefits of exposure therapy? Were they just never going to reap in this case? “Please, come in.”

Taking full steps in, there hadn’t been much change to the facility. Only that more shelves had been placed in, making two passageways that were farther against the walls more crowded. Dr. Gaul’s projects were her trophies, and she loved to show off. Even if it made her the weirdest one at parties. She sat at the center of the lab, where all the shelves slowly faded out and stasis tanks became more prominent, perfectly lined up. Of course, an egotistical lady would want her work to quite literally center around her. On a chair of fine, navy leather, bounded up by wheels on the bottom, she sat beside a decently sized writing desk made of dark, walnut wood. The desk was placed near the edge of the center, close to the large stasis tanks that held larger specimens. They lined the edges of the circle, as if a far more grotesque equivalent of statued idols. Their height was impressive, how they almost halfway reached the ceiling, dwarfing almost anything nearby. At the sound of his shoes closing in on her location, she turned in her chair, facing him entirely. Smile and all, with her dazzling row of teeth on display.

“My, Coryo… Has Ms. Cardew turned your alarm clock back a few minutes?” Coriolanus was thankful that Dr. Gaul didn’t refer to her as ‘Mrs. Snow.’ “How sweet, the stage of couple mischief has already started.”

“I suppose you could put it like that.” With a laugh, he wanted to leave it at that.

Coriolanus could see the way Dr. Gaul’s brows lifted in curious glee when he spoke. He’d let her mind run with whatever conclusions it jumped to, seeing how much fun it brought her. It must be hard to find entertainment in old age. Taking another leather chair besides Dr. Gaul, this one lacking the back Dr. Gaul’s chair had, resembling more of a cushioned stool; he took his seat next to her. He placed down the coffee, carrier, and meal at the table, away from the documents Dr. Gaul was bent over moments before. Taking off his leather gloves, he folded it in his overcoat pocket before taking off the overcoat and folding it as well, besides his belongings. Coriolanus made himself comfortable, and with a quick glance, he peeked at the documents. There, sat a manila folder, a report, with familiar font and writing he knew well. His hands fingered its pages often, looking through it.

Project Prometheus’s folder.

… Had there been new developments?

Why else would Dr. Gaul have its case file open today. He couldn’t imagine something bad happening, physically. By the looks of it, the subject had no ounce of rebellion left, it couldn’t comprehend a reason why to fight anymore. It surely had to be something mental. Had the subject’s mental decay reached a point of no return? Had it forgotten Dr. Gaul, now? Him? He’d be pissed, if so. All that sweat, blood, and effort wasted away because Project Prometheus couldn’t be bothered anymore. It said to hell with not just the past, let's get rid of the present, and future, too! Coriolanus was going to murder it, he was sure. He couldn’t lose his stress-release now. Especially when he needed it most of all days. One brow rose inquisitively, looking back up from the file to Dr. Gaul. She responded only with a widened smile, her eyes creasing at the pull of her cheeks. Rotten woman, wanting to keep him guessing. Forget his mention of Gaul being a confidant. Livia and her might as well share a coin together.

“Want to share breakfast with me?”

It was the best thing, for now. Extending a hand out to her, the folded wax paper that contained sausages and omelettes. They still had warmth radiating from it. Not as hot as it was in his estate, but still adequately warm enough to eat. A twinkle went through Dr. Gaul’s eyes that made Coriolanus internally gag. She couldn’t actually be delighted by his request? For goodness sake, does everything he does endear her? Others would think that as he rose in power, the more serious people would take him. On Gaul, it had an opposite effect. It made her want to coo at him more. The sound of leather shifting was quietly heard, as she brought her fingers close to his outstretched hand, before halting.

“Do you have napkins?” She asked.

“I have spare handkerchiefs.”

Better than nothing, unless she wanted to wash her greased hands in front of him after.

Reaching into his pockets, Coriolanus took them out. Alternatives, he kept. He always carried a main one, something Tigris made for him as a gift to celebrate his return after losing his father’s back in the Academy. It was made of simple, off-white linen, with carefully stitched embroidery of foliage and bugloss flowers, and his initials tucked in the inside. His favorite, that he kept ironed, pressed and without a stain. He’s never let anyone use it since. As a result, he’s had to buy miscellaneous extras, for occasions like these. When he had to give hand-outs to a woman who believed herself to be a replacement for the mother that was most definitely rolling in her grave right now. He placed in Gaul’s hand a mauve colored handkerchief, and himself an aegean blue, both made of light muslin. No embroidery, and no personal touches. Simple, and cut perfectly.

Dr. Gaul gave him a delighted ( gross ) thank you, taking the handkerchief to pick up one sausage and omelette. Carefully, she took a bite, not wanting to ruin the dark, red lipstick she had on. He followed in her example, taking a bite of his own. The salted taste of the omelette touched his taste buds immediately, mixing in the delightful savory-sweet bite of the breakfast sausage, the red bell-peppers and green onions used balanced well. He almost regrets giving the other to Dr. Gaul now. He didn’t realize how hungry he was before. A silence had fallen between them, with the occasional sound of their chewing sneaking its way through. Coriolanus stretched his legs out a bit, from his seated position, staring at the stasis tanks that surrounded them.

He wasn’t really sure what he was hoping for, staring at revolting oddities encased in amber resin. Maybe that they’d blink? Surely, that’d be leagues better than this. To stare at Dr. Gaul while they both ate seemed like a daunting feat. She’d most definitely stare at him back unwavering, and that possibility horrified him more.

“So,”

Dr. Gaul started her words, Coriolanus turned his head back to look at her. Dr. Gaul rubbed her gloved figures on the mauve cloth, the entire breakfast he had given her already gone. Does no one feed her? “Are you excited for the wedding? I can already hear the ceremony bells coming closer and closer with each month.”

A misidentification from the chimes of her coming death. Coriolanus was understanding. It was very easy to mix the two sounds up, they do sound slightly similar.

Finishing a bite and swallowing, he held a hand over his mouth, “Only eight months away now,” He smiled politely. Dr. Gaul was always so prying when it came to the details of his life. It frustrated him that she’d never let sleeping dogs lie.

“Livia is the most excited between us. This morning she showed me the design of her wedding dress. Roses and pearls all around,” His finger made a circular gesture in the air, emphasizing the last part. Coriolanus noticed how Dr. Gaul’s eyes slightly narrowed as he spoke, her grin still ever present. He wasn’t quite sure if his words were selling it. Then again, Dr. Gaul always managed somehow to see through him. Gaul rested her elbow against the table, propping her hand up to lean her head on it. Legs shifted under her long amaranth dress, the fabric shifting as she crossed them. He took another bite of his food to stave off this constricting feeling building in his chest.

“My… That cousin of yours works rather quickly. She must be elated for your union,” Sure, let’s go with that. He continued chewing. “Have you gotten your suit designed yet?”

In one gulp, he swallowed the food down.

Coriolanus looked back up at her, a shared look between the two. They both knew the answer to this. He didn’t know why she was asking. If she needed to remember it, might as well just give him a notepad and pen so he could write it down for her. He’d gladly fold the paper too, to put it in her pockets. Lips pulled into a polite smile, a pause before speaking:

“No. I haven’t had the time to seek out a designer just yet.”

There was plenty of time, he just didn’t want to do it. Seeking out a seamstress would only just solidify this grim situation into reality. To put in any effort into this grotesque ceremony would do that.

Gaul tutted at him.

“That’s no good, Coryo. You can’t just leave that for the last minute.”

She still sounded amused, despite her words speaking of disapproval. A woman like her should have no effect on him, but she did. It had an effect on Coriolanus. Livia and Tigris had taken so much of his energy this morning that it left him vulnerable in front of the lion’s mouth. He wanted to retreat into himself, his ears slightly burned in humiliation. Was he not an adult? The ripe age of twenty one and here he was, feeling like a child being scolded for not completing their chores. Her words made him feel small. But, it also made him want to spill so easily in her hands, tell her about the utter exhaustion he felt from early this morning. It sickened him, the ways Gaul made him feel. Coriolanus fought back against the frustrated flush that threatened to spill over to his cheeks, keeping his gaze steady with Dr. Gaul's eyes that only sparkled with delight and play.

That’s right, play, he reminded himself.

She’s only playing, that’s all she does. That’s all she wants. He wanted to save face, but a part of him feared that Dr. Gaul would scold him further if he did. The smile never left his face, but his eyes decently narrowed in warning. It was the most he could do to stand his ground. Dr. Gaul’s smile widened, incisors hidden under her lips, brimming.

“Quite the set of daggers you have there,” The tight sound of pressure applied to latex was heard, thick and suffocating. Gaul raising one hand to bring close to his face, and he could only stare at its unnerving red color. Off-white blue lights from the lab reflected on its shiny material. Her pointer finger touched the center of his eyes, the region of bare flesh and nasal bone underneath. “Those aren’t for me, are they?” Her voice spoke more softly, just a hushed whisper. Coriolanus dared to raise his gaze off her finger, and to Dr. Gaul’s eyes. At usual, they were wide, showing the full, yet limiting, range of her heart to others. Yet, here there were, eyelids half raised. The muscles in her smile barely pulled at the zygomaticus. There was an unreadable look to her, but Coriolanus knew it wasn’t anger. He couldn’t fathom what it was. It made his chest feel tight, the action to take steady breaths proved itself a challenging feat that it was painful.

He wanted to bite her finger off.

“... No.”

It felt like the words were fighting themselves to get out. He had to stop himself from saying it between gritted teeth.

“Never towards you.”

Coriolanus wanted to throw up with how softly he breathed these words out to Dr. Gaul. The saliva in his mouth tasted acidic.

Why was he reassuring her feelings? He’s the one who’s getting married to the physical embodiment of a leech, and he had to placate the fickle feelings of a woman with ‘baby fever’.

“The planning of the wedding is… just a bit of a sensitive subject, right now. For both Livia and I, considering how much is being put into it.” Saying those words aloud did nothing to alleviate the feeling. It only just made them that much heavier. The hand that held his handkerchief of food folded the fabric within itself, clenching carefully before folding it. Coriolanus still made sure to keep his head in place as he did so, his gaze steady on the other. Uncertain of whether it was okay or not to pull away from her touch. The steady warmth of Dr. Gaul’s finger had become unbearable. He wouldn’t be surprised if it left a burnt imprint on his skin when she eventually lifted it up. A silence had consumed them, with Gaul’s head slightly tilted up, as if to carefully look down at him. As if he was just another specimen whose temperament she was testing the boundaries of. Would she hope that he bared his teeth, too?

After careful examination, she let out a small hum.

“Good. I don’t need a rebellious assistant. One was more than enough,”

Excuse you?

Opening his mouth, ready to question more, Gaul’s finger slid down the bridge of nose, over to his lips. The motion silenced him, the weight pressed against the two pink muscles. She’d give him no room to speak on it and he had to obey that. Lifting her finger off, immediately, it sent signals to his entire body to ease itself back. Muscles were still taut and ready, rigid to keep his image, but the pressure before was no longer weighing it down. Rather, it transferred itself into his cerebrum. The words just spoken casted over his head in anxious anticipation.

What did she mean before?

It never once occurred to Coriolanus that Dr. Gaul had more assistants before him. With how much praise she spoke about him to others, calling him her ‘victor’; his high off the approval blinded him from ever looking too deeply into Gaul’s own history. She knew so much about him, but he hardly knew anything intimate about her. Was this assistant from a long past? Someone that spurned her, and flipped the switch in her mind. Or just a low-level employee that couldn’t rise to her expectations. Coriolanus knew Dr. Gaul wasn’t done just yet, seeing how her hand had moved to the file so carefully placed on her side of the table. Dragging the folder closer to her, the sound of the manila folder being dragged against the rich, wooden table. Curiosity beckoned at him, however, he only placed the muslin cloth on his own side. Placing it down on the table, he reached out to pick up his coffee instead to drink. This was just another game for her. Fitting for her title as Head Gamemaker. If he was to take her seat when she retired, he’d need to learn to play just as well. And that started by giving Dr. Gaul the bare minimum of what she wanted.

“How do you feel about the subject of pets?” She opened Subject A01’s folder, her fingers flicking through pages held together by a single paperclip.

“In general, or something specific you have in mind?”

She should save her spiel of human versus animal to the lecture hall, not the Citadel labs. If Gaul could step away from the foreplay and get onto her main point, that’d be fantastic. They both had limited time.

“Just curious, considering you have such an aptitude for taking care of them.” Fingers stopped moving through the pages. Off-colored eyes rose up from the file, properly, to gaze at him.

Of course, she knew.

Thankfully, his body didn’t flinch. Rather, he remained seated in his leather stool. Arms crossed over each other, one hand holding his coffee, his legs slightly spread out, holding her stare passively. Yet, under his skin, it was like a match striking against a fuse. Something lit his veins on fire. Coriolanus could feel the muscle under his flesh being so warm. Was it fear? Adrenaline? He hoped it didn’t show through. Pulling at the tendons of his jaw, his lips pulled back to show his own set of canines. Coriolanus smiled at Dr. Gaul.

“What let you on?”

It wasn’t an outright admittance to guilt. He’d rather not say anything specific in case Gaul was accusing him of something else.

“When the dog hopes it’s someone else walking in.”

“Is that so?” His laugh sounded so delighted, it almost surprised him. It felt nearly genuine. Was it genuine?

How strange. Hearing that Project Prometheus was now so eager for his presence, that it started to act less excited around its ‘caretaker’... The confirmation that it was him that it liked being around most… A warm bloom of pride surged through his chest. He had done that. He was affecting them. How long would it be now until Project Prometheus started referring to him with a familial label? It already was talking about him with others who cared to listen. Right now, he should feel terrified. His boss caught him interacting with a rebel prisoner outside of his assigned tasks, he was surely going to be chewed out. Yet, all Coriolanus felt was a sick glee that tempted him to bounce the heels of his shoes, knowing what’d he done. What he accomplished in such little time. It almost made him forget everything else before. Almost. Maybe he was right to place his bets on having the subject be his new stress-ball. After work, he’d make sure of his visit to Project Prometheus.

Dr. Gaul joined in on his laughter.

“You’re quite the twisted man, ‘Dr. Snow’,” She waggled that wretched finger in his direction. It made his skin crawl to hear her refer in the same manner as the subject. “Don’t think I don’t see what you’re doing. By all means, I encourage you to explore further,”

Ears picked up on a familiar set of letters; Dr. Gaul called the subject by its name. He raised his eyebrows at it, but made no verbal cue to question it. Project Prometheus was affectionate to a degree with Dr. Gaul; did Dr. Gaul reciprocate similar sentiments?

“It’s cerebrum, as you expertly noted…,” Call it by a name, but still refer to it as if it was only a thing. “Its hippocampus suffers a bit due to the stress regulation from the pFC,” The prefrontal cortex. “But, as a result, leaves the Project akin to a batch of fresh clay. Easily influenced, and susceptible to any new stimuli.” Dr. Gaul closes the file between her hands. Outstretching her arm, she extended the report over to Coriolanus’s end of the table, she was inviting him to take it into his own hands. And who was he to deny her request. Placing his coffee back on the table, he took the manila folder into his hands, and proceeded to open it on his end. His hands flicked through the pages, seeing the most recent update. The pain scale, the number five on it circled on it. His signature now tucked away and marked within the prisoner’s file. Coriolanus traced his clean nails on black ink. He was now part of this project. He made his first mark.

That familiar feeling of pride escalated again.

“I’ll still be an overseer, but… I’m curious as to what your influence will do to it. You must make any observations, notes, all of it.”

Well, that feels a bit voyeuristic. Has she always been so eager to lend away her mutts?

Dr. Gaul grabbed his chin with a light touch. Forcing his focus away from the slightly stained papers and back to her, where her gloved thumb gently stroked his jaw. The trail of sensations that her own hand left behind made his skin prickle under his layers of clothes. Her touch was sickening as it was caring, leaving Coriolanus unable to decide if he should lean in, or pull away from her touch. So, he remained pliant. Letting her take the lead.

“I made you into my victor. I want to see what you make Project Prometheus into.”

He desperately wanted to see it too, Dr. Gaul.

Reality was, there was no end product in his mind. All he knew was simple, base desires. To use the subject to stroke his own personal ego. Coriolanus didn’t know what would happen at the end. Did he honestly even care? If it ended up better, or worse, it didn’t matter. The subject would still be in Lab C09, sitting idly all alone on the exam table until someone took it out of its misery. Maybe that was it. Dr. Gaul wanted him to put all his effort into shaping Project Prometheus into something worthwhile; then, put it down like a dog after he was done. The thought of it made something deep within the confines of his ribs itch. He wanted to scratch at it.

What a merciless, cruel thing to do.

But, something exactly right in Gaul’s alley. Shame, what a waste of resources. The Citadel had the money to burn, Coriolanus guessed. It was an inconvenience on his end, though. He’d have to go and find a new stress-toy after this project was done. Hopefully, this wouldn’t become a pattern in the future.

“When I bring the results to you, what happens? Does the project end?”

The steady thrum of machinery flowing through the Citadel’s walls was deafening. Straining his ears just enough, he could make out the brief sounds of employee shoes walking past the open lab doors. The leather soles squeaking and tapping against sleek flooring. Painted, red lips smiled, but this was different. So empty and void of any perverse glee, it almost surprised Coriolanus.

“The project doesn’t end until there’s nothing left to reap.”

Until she got bored. That’s all his ringing ears could make of.

If he were to control its lifespan; something would have to be done to keep Gaul’s intrigue up. Proposals for new ideas, possibilities, he’d have to draft them up. Coriolanus felt like he was back in the Academy all over again, writing essays and prompts for Dr. Gaul to read. Later, he’d need to remind himself to call an Avox. Give them the errand to go buy him a ‘do not bother’ sign to hang in his home office. He was going to need it for all the brainstorming he was going to do whenever Livia dropped by.

“That’s why, I think I’ll have you conduct another exam. Don’t worry about your other tasks, I’ll have someone else take care of it.”

Dr. Gaul was too kind. Saving him the trouble of making time out of his day to visit Lab C09.

“You remember last time, I had you do a test on the subject’s external pain receptors, right?” He doesn’t think he could ever forget such an experience. “Today, I want you to do an exam on its internal pain receptors.”

Coriolanus blinked.

Internal?

Did she mean conducting an exam on its insides?

Coriolanus prayed it was something more specific. Internal was just too broad of a subject. There was so much going on in the inside of a living being, it’d be almost dizzying to focus on every single nerve ending that each part had. The digestive system, the endocrine system, pons, medulla, the list can go on. A touch of fear sprouted out the back of his head; the real possibility that Gaul may just ask him to perform an exam on the entire internal structure of the subject. The entailing of all that blood and mess. He pitied the custodians that’d have to clean up after him. He must’ve surely pulled a face, a grimace perhaps, as Dr. Gaul’s eyes lit up in amusement. Letting go of his chin, she smacked against his cheek lightly in her mocking laugh. Coriolanus only half-enthusiastically joined in, still hesitant on the whole prospect. And a bit offended at the casual slap.

“Have you ever done an exam like this before, Coryo?”

“I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure, no.”

The University offered cadavers from the Districts to examine and explore in open lab hours, sure. But, there was a difference between a corpse and a living thing. A cadaver didn’t squirm when he poked and prodded at it with a scalpel and toothed forceps. Well. Project Prometheus was a five now in its external sensitivity scale, so maybe it wouldn’t be too bad. Coriolanus thought back to the cake he brought in for Project Prometheus. Would the subject even be able to eat anything before, or after the operation? He didn’t want to risk aspiration during the operation and they’d likely pass out after he was done. Coriolanus wanted to suck his teeth. He brought the cheesecake for no reason at all then! God, he needed another sip of his coffee.

“You’ll be a natural. It’ll be just as similar as the exam before, just…” Bright eyes rolled to the side, her tongue paused. She was tasting the word on it. “Messier.” Finishing it off with a rich chuckle, wiggling her nasty fingers against the air to put a bit of ‘pizzazz’ to it..

Coriolanus frowned a bit deeper..

“Usually, this is something I handle, but, considering recent developments between you and the prisoner; why not let you take the reins?”

He supposed.

Better him than Dr. Gaul, right?

The sight would be like a nightmare if Project Prometheus gazed up, flesh open, and the first thing they saw was the horrific grin of Gaul. Coriolanus could understand in that sense, why he should be the one performing the operation. It dubbed him with the ‘gentle hands’; unlike Gaul. Citadel cameras only knew how cruel Dr. Gaul can be when handling the prisoner’s insides. She probably gripped exposed tissue and sinew with her bare gloves. He’d only use the medical instruments that were best appropriate, when exploring around. Yes, it was definitely better that he was the one doing this.

“I understand.” Sighing in ‘defeat’. “I’ll do my best to make you proud.”

Gaul’s smile stretched wider when he said that. It pulled at the muscles of her cheeks, making her eyes squint and crinkle.

“You always do, Coryo. If you need any guidance, instructions are written inside the report.”

Covered knees knocked against his own in a brief, playful manner, his legs retracting back quickly from its stretched position. Dr. Gaul turned her seat back around to face her desk. Already, grabbing at another case file to look at; she took the discarded, uncapped pen that laid on the side. She shooed him away with her hand.

“Off you go. You can leave your things here, if you’d like.”

Not even going to walk him to the elevator? And he thought Gaul and him had something special.

Obediently, Coriolanus raised up from the stool, the leather cushion whining from it. Closing the manila folder, he tucked it under his arm and placed his coffee on the table. Spreading out his belongings around his side of the desk, he wanted to get a clear grasp of what he had. What was going to be needed, while he would be toiling away in Lab C09 for who knows how long. There was his Citadel Work ID, his keys, his coffee ( he didn’t trust leaving his drink unattended with Dr. Gaul ), the lab key, and… His hand hovered over the carrier, the one made of white cardboard that held the cheesecake. Coriolanus was still unsure if today was even possible, responsible, to give Project Prometheus this. Knowing what was to be done, there was no promise that he’d come back with an empty carrier. A slight twinge ached deep in his chest, the feeling of it lightly suffocating. An irritating sensation. He conditioned Project Prometheus to expect sweets from him; how sad would it be if he showed up empty-handed?

Coriolanus thought about it.

Had he… ever seen Project Prometheus disappointed? It talked about feeling it, when Gaul would be silent, or ignore them. But, he’s never seen it. That smothering sensation from before began to ebb away. It made his imagination go wild, trying to imagine the subject’s sad face. Would it twist ugly? Would it pout, biting its chapped bottom lip, try to hold back a tear? Or become more withdrawn, silent and moody? Coriolanus wanted to know. Fingers curled around the handles of the carrier, pulling it up from the table. From the corner of his eye, Coriolanus noticed Dr. Gaul take in his action curiously. The sound of pen etching on paper stopped. With only a smile, he waved a free hand goodbye to her:

“I’ll be back, Dr. Gaul.”

And off he went, taking himself to the darkened corners of the lab where the elevator was tucked and hidden away. Greeted by the recognizable sight of sterile, stainless metal, he pressed his finger down on the button for the lower levels. The harsh, red light brimming brightly under his touch. With a ding to cut through the air, the elevator doors open almost immediately for Coriolanus. Bright, white lights flooding out, but it could only light up the dark corners of Lab H05 so much. It barely reached out to even three feet outside the door. Taking his step in, he pulled the familiar key Dr. Gaul had given him just a month prior. The key to Lab C09. After the first day, Coriolanus took it upon himself to clean it as best he could. It was his key now, so he tried scraping off as much rust and dried blood as he could. The key was still a rancid, dark color, but at the very least, it no longer felt so textured. With the key still warm in his palm, he inserted it into the elevator’s panel, twisting until the latch popped upon. He pressed for C09’s floor.

In the meantime, Coriolanus opened Subject A01’s folder. Leaning against the wall of the elevator, one foot crossed over the other, he shifted his belongings into comfortable holdings in his arms. Flipping through the pages, he tried looking to see if Dr. Gaul left a sticky note giving him instructions. She had done it for him last time, so it wasn’t outlandish for him to expect another. But, no. Nothing of the sort. A heavy breath deeply sighed from his nose. How was he supposed to be a ‘natural’ when he had no guide to what he was doing? Fingers flicked through the pages quickly, looking for anything to give him a clue on what he was supposed to do. Maybe he needed to look back at previous updates. Heading back to the early pages, Coriolanus’s eyes flitted around until he found it. There. Tucked behind a faded, pale blue divider; labeled under:

PROJECT PROMETHEUS’S EXPLORATORY LAPAROTOMY

OVERSEER & SURGEON: DR. VOLUMNIA GAUL

The date was recorded back from two years ago. Meaning that the subject’s NTRK1 gene was still under foreign modifications. Coriolanus, for a second, felt a bit hesitant. But, only for just a second. He flipped back the divider, and what did he know? His guess was right. There was Gaul’s written report on the side, what he wanted to read in the first place, but the photos… Numerous that were held onto the report in various placings, held on by rusted paperclips. He could recognize the subject by mere beauty marks, the same ones he traced with ink just a month beforehand. The photos were visceral. Subject A01’s bicipital aponeurosis, extensor retinaculum, patella, lateral malleolus, and sternohyoid were tied down to the operating table by tight, black leather straps and buckles. There were bright splotches of purple and red, areas where the bounded limbs had started to bruise, or bleed. Or both. Coriolanus wasn’t sure if this was caused by struggle before the operation began, or during. He was inclined to believe during. As in each photo that displayed its most intimate internal makings, where the rectus sheath had been peeled back and spread out, the subject’s eyes were still open. It did not look at the camera. How could it? Dark irises gazed listlessly off to the side, reddened orbital adipose to suggest dried tears but, he could still make out a faint sheen to suggest it hadn’t finished drying just yet. So much of the subject’s blood was shown in each photo, splatters that no doubt made it to the operation floor. Most likely from both Dr. Gaul’s indifference, and for the subject putting too much of a fight.

Thankfully, he wouldn’t be dealing with that today.

The subject’s cerebrum had been altered far too much to be in the same state it was in the beginning. Or, at least he hoped it was. Coriolanus let out another heavy sigh, his eyes leaving away from the photos to read the report Dr. Gaul had written.

“06/30/XX

Patient Name: ⏹⏹⏹⏹ ‘SUBJECT A01: PROJECT PROMETHEUS’

Patient ID: ⏹⏹⏹⏹⏹⏹⏹⏹

Objective: Assessment of Internal Pain Receptors

First Exploratory Laparotomy conducted.

Subject had to be forcibly escorted out of their room by Peacekeepers ⏹⏹⏹⏹ and ⏹⏹⏹, to the Examination room. Attempted to assault Peacekeeper ⏹⏹⏹⏹, subject was forced down onto the Operation table to be restrained. Administered drug ⏹⏹⏹ and ⏹⏹⏹⏹ to avoid need for an endotracheal tube & general anesthesia during surgery.

To be able to accurately record the fluctuation in Subject A01’s internal nerve system, the subject must remain conscious throughout the entire procedure. While examining each organ, a timer is a set for every ten minutes to gauge how the subject is feeling, if the scale is changing, or if it is still conscious. Exam ends when the subject is no longer responsive.

Subject was only able to withstand thirty minutes of the operation before passing out entirely. Was difficult in communications, did not respond properly when asked. Had to lean in multiple times to listen to the subject, and could barely hear it between fits of crying. Currently listed at a 10 for pain tolerance–”

Coriolanus stared at the block of text.

Having the exam run until the subject passed out felt a bit overkill. Just how long would he be staying in Lab C09? The first operation was thirty minutes, with the average pain scale of 10. Project Prometheus was now a 5 in the pain scale. They handled the external nerve exam completely conscious, but that was just needles poking and prodding their skin. How long could they last now, with their organs on full display and his surgeon tools prodding around? But… Coriolanus reminded himself; this project is their punishment for rebelling. So, he could understand why the procedure was conducted in such a manner. He shifted the weight of his posture, crossing one leg over the other. The warmth from before, from under the stifling layers of his winter wear, still had yet to completely fade away. It made him just the slightest bit uncomfortable still, knowing there were faint traces of heat still radiating from him. Thankfully, it wasn’t enough to sweat through his button up.

The familiar ding cut through the silence. Instinctively, Coriolanus closed the manila folder as if on command, tucking it under his arm. Lab C09’s natural rusted, nauseous smell welcomed him in. Stepping past the doors of the elevator and into the floor, he needed no guidance to take him where he needed to be. He was well intimate enough with the layout of the structure. Well, the more ‘medically functional’ areas. Project Prometheus’s room was still something he had yet to visit, but that was something to see for another day. The messy bloodstain on the floor was still there, not yet cleaned up. Now that he was ‘in charge’ of Project Prometheus, he supposed he could make the order to clean this up. Yet, something about it felt so familiar to him. It was one of the first things he saw when he first entered Lab C09. Maybe it was Project Prometheus’s first waking moment in Lab C09, too. When they had attempted to escape out of the Peacekeepers’ grasp and make a dash for the elevator. Reaching the corridor hall doors, he greeted the current guards on duty, a brief hello and a curt nod before entering the new hall.

Back where he was on that day, back at the start.

Coriolanus moved his feet, standing where he assumed he first was, when he first entered here. The large glass window that encompassed one side of the hall, where he stood and got his first glimpse of the subject. It wasn’t quite right, he wasn’t so close to the other side of the wall; but, neither was the other side of the glass. To any other eye, the change wasn’t too noticeable. Small difference of details. But, Coriolanus noticed the change immediately. His blue eyes dragged up towards the empty space of wall hooks that once carried the room’s surgical tools. They used to hang up so high, just out of reach so the subject didn’t try to reach for it themselves on its own time. But, there they were. Next to the center of the room, the surgical tools had been placed neatly on a large, rolling surgical tray that was beside them.

Subject A01, Project Prometheus.

Coriolanus’s breath felt a bit heavy, difficult to take in. All he could focus on now was the sight of them, taking in their form. It still hadn’t noticed him, a pleasing change of pace from before. They were seated, as it was expected to do, on what used to be the examination table. The leather cushions that covered it had been removed, revealing the sleek, stainless steel operation table that was hidden underneath the comforting material. Coriolanus took small, quiet steps further, careful as to not alert it. Project Prometheus had a penchant for being the observant type. The subject was sitting mostly upright, but there was a slight slouch to its shoulders. Arms brought forward, its hands pushed between the small space of its thighs. Bare legs dangled off the edge of the table, stitches decorating the expanse of skin. It still had some remnants of bandages wrapped around, particularly around the left brachialis area and its right lateral malleolus, tight and clean. The subject’s dark irises stayed down on the gritty, tiled floor; not bothering to look around.

Project Prometheus still hadn’t acknowledged him yet.

He didn’t know if it was on purpose, or purely accidental on its part; but he understood one thing. And it was the familiar lick of irritation that touched him. What was so different here? All he needed to do was breathe wrong and the subject honed in on him like a hawk. Has something happened? Was Dr. Gaul wrong in her assumption of the subject favoring him? Did he need to condition Project Prometheus longer than he anticipated? The fun of being a passive observer had worn off, the longer he gazed at them. He needed Project Prometheus to look at him, to focus on him. Fingers tapped on the glass lightly, a significant difference, a restraint, from the buildup dwelling inside him. A distinct sound was made, enough for the subject to snap its head up.

For Project Prometheus to look at him.

It stared at him with such wide eyes, their slightly reddened, chapped lips slightly agape in a small ‘o’ shape. There was a small kick and sway to their dangling feet, now. For a brief second, he saw the subject’s eyes dart quickly to the box carrier in his hands before focusing back up on him. The muscles of his cheeks started to pull back into a grin.

Exactly what he wanted.

Satisfaction easily oozed into him, embarrassingly so. But, he got what he was looking for. Project Prometheus’s eyes were now solely on him, not off in some dissociative mindscape.

Coriolanus gave them a wave through the glass, mouthing to them: ‘I’ll be in soon’ before stepping away and further down into the hall corridor, where the examination room door was. Taking the surgical uniform that hung beside the Peacekeeper keeping guard, Coriolanus placed his belongings down to the side to put the attire on. Slipping the surgical gown, cap, goggles, and tightening the gloves onto him, his blood was running high. Coriolanus couldn’t fathom why. Maybe it was the nerves. In just a few moments, he’s going to head in there, break its heart about giving them no dessert, tell them he’s here for an exam, then perform a gruesome operation on them to add the cherry on top. All of it was nerve-wracking. They seemed to be quite obedient, but who's to say this wouldn’t be their final straw? And if they accepted it, taking his surgical exploration with no objection? The bones in his hands only felt like formality, with how much fight he was doing to just keep them steady.

There was so much blood he could feel running through his veins.

“I’ll be conducting an operation today, keep your ears alert for anything unusual.”

The metal door moved open from its tight seal, Coriolanus stepping through before it closed behind heavily with a hefty thud. Muted sounds of bare feet touching the floor; the patter careful to make a noise above a pin drop, slowing down to just a whisper. And then, falling entirely into silence.

“Good morning, Dr. Snow.”

There it was.

Their presence, it was just a few ways behind him. It was faint, and hard to realize at times, but he was getting accustomed to it. Unlike others, where there was a palpable weight to the space they took up in the air, Project Prometheus’s presence was noticed through feelings in the gut. Intuition, maybe. But, Coriolanus could pick out on how whenever the subject was near, his blood would run so cold, yet the adrenaline in his veins made his heartbeat beat faster than ever. It felt almost primal, savagery at its finest. Reduced to relying on his own bodily instincts and survival skills to learn more about a mutt kept behind bars.

“Subject A01,” He called out pleasantly. His restraint was being kept taut on a leash.

Coriolanus smiled behind his surgical mask, turning his body around to finally look at the subject and not the dreary door. There, they stood before him, hands awkwardly stood at their sides, clad in the same thin patient gown. They must’ve been cold sitting almost bare on the operating table. The subject gazed at his gloved hands immediately, after only just briefly looking at his own eyes. There was only the project report and his coffee in his hands. He decided it was best to leave the carrier outside. For a second, he watched how Project Prometheus's stare was unchanged, nothing to indicate on their expression that something had gone wrong in their mind. But, he knew. Coriolanus could feel the slight shift in the air, the dejection Project Prometheus was feeling at the lack of a sweet reward. If their eyes would not say anything, it was their body. The slight shift of weight, and scarred fingers twiddling at the ends of their gown.

His grin widened under his surgical mask.

“Good morning, is everything alright?” He leaned down his head a bit, showing faux worry.

Project Prometheus bit the bottom of their lip briefly, a flush of rosy hues along the cracked surface from the pressure. Coriolanus's eyes traced the spark of color on the overall gray appearance of the subject, almost engrossing him entirely. It is an absolute wonder what a splash of color could do to enhance even the most unsightly.

“... No, everything is alright.”

Was he dreaming, or was there the subtle carry of a pout in their tone? Ohhh, he was living such a high! “And you can call me by my name, Dr. Snow.” They both know that wasn’t going to happen. But, he supposed there were remnants of a naive idealist in its unconscious mind. It forgot all the important details, and kept the worst info.

Taking a step forward, Project Prometheus took no step backward from him. Rather, it craned its neck up, where he stood towering over them. Fingers stopped in its fidgeting, trying to meet his stare through the difference in height. His body made a shadow over its small frame, blocking out the nauseous, overhead lights. Coriolanus stretched a hand over, touching the region of the subject’s infraspinatus with the flat of his gloved palm. Project Prometheus did not tense under his touch. He leaned down.

“Could you wait for me at the operation table?” Words came out just slightly above a whisper, never once breaking eye contact with the subject. He spoke it sweetly, an illusion of a suggestion, disguising a command.

Project Prometheus was silent.

An impatient tick poked at him. Was it even listening to him, or was it trying to disassociate?

“So, it is an operation today.”

No, they removed the examination cushions for laundry day.

“Yes, it is. Will that be a problem?” It better not.

The subject fell into silence once more. Its hands shifted from its sides to the anterior, playing with the front of its dress. The ends of thin fabric was in between its fingers, the slight rise of it, had he bent down, there was no doubt he would see clear peeks of the subject’s lower half. With his brows furrowed, he could feel his throat run a bit dry. He had a drink, but it feels wrong right now to take a taste. As if anything else would ruin… whatever this was. Coriolanus shifted the weight of his posture.

“... Have I done something to upset you, Dr. Snow?”

… What was Project Prometheus trying to play here?

Is… Is this some form of attempt at pacification? Play with the patient gown, try to flash him, and hope he bends over backwards? Regardless, the fear of losing Dr. Gaul’s respect over something so juvenile was far more humiliating than whatever… this was. It brought on a trickled feeling that ran inside his throat, something that made his ears burn. Maybe it was embarrassment he felt for the subject. Or for himself, for having to deal with this so early. Placing his hand over it, the fingers were still continuing to fidget. Gripping the appendages under his gloved grasp, quickly, he put a stop to the movement.

“Enough.” Coriolanus gave an extra squeeze on its hand for emphasis. The subject stopped moving. Alright, that eases him up a bit.

“There’s nothing you’ve done wrong,” He could argue for some, but he’ll save it for another day. “Today is only the internal nerve exam. Dr. Gaul asked me to conduct it in her place instead,” Unconsciously, he didn’t know why, but his thumb started to rub soothing circles on the back of Project Prometheus’s hand. Something that Tigris had done for him, when he needed comfort as kids. But, this didn’t hold the same warmth. The subject’s hand’s too cold for that, and his gloves offered nothing.

“I promise to be kind with this.” Whispering, so that a soft voice would be the final kick for Project Prometheus to behave.

“Okay… I trust you, Dr. Snow.”

A terrible choice, really.

Coriolanus almost snorted, but he stopped himself with a smile, communicating with how his eyes squinted slightly along the pull of muscle. He stopped his thumb, removing his hand off the subject’s before giving a light touch on their shoulder. A simple gesture for it to go back to the operation table, to which it followed. Attentively, his eyes followed the back of it. Never would he dare to take off his gaze until he finally heard the small squeaking sound of Project Prometheus lifting itself on the table, sitting itself fully on the stainless steel. Last time, his eyes left the subject, it gave him a heart attack moments after. The subject caught his stare, and rather than call him out for it, question him, it spoke:

“I’ll wait right here for you.”

Did it know his apprehension?

Coriolanus wasn’t sure whether to be pleased, or disturbed. On one hand, the subject was following orders. The other hand, there’s a very real chance his facade wasn’t as good as he thinks it is. No, it can’t be that. It shouldn’t be. He worried his bottom lip between incisors, shifting to head towards the shelves of drugs and medical equipment. Dr. Gaul managed to see through him earlier this morning, and he knows ( he knows! ) Livia caught the envy he felt when she showed him Tigris’s sketch. There wasn't anything wrong with him. There’s something in the air today, that’s wrong here. He just needed to fix that, gain back control. Just needed to take deep breaths, he has everything under his control right now. Putting the report and coffee down on the shelves, Coriolanus pulled the small, glass bottle of anticoagulant, clean syringes, sternum wires, and the modified anesthesia out in front of him. As all surgical instruments had been placed out beforehand already, all he needed now was the roll of polymer fibers for the sutures later. Traditionally, black has been the norm. It's on the subject right now. Gloved fingers brushed against the barrel of the roll, in thought. Then, put the roll back in place, shoving past to reach another corner to the shelf. Feeling the weight of it, he grabbed it. A roll of red polymer fibers.

Dr. Gaul’s handiwork, her mark, were those black stitches.

So shouldn’t his mark be something more striking? Would it not show as dazzling proof of his first operation?

“Thank you for being patient,” Bringing the materials over, Coriolanus placed them evenly spaced on the surgical tray before him. “Do you remember how this procedure goes?” He wanted to make sure this wasn’t placed in the shredder of its amnesia. If they didn’t remember the previous times, he’ll make sure it remembers this one.

“I think so,” Its dark eyes followed his hands, watching him as he took the syringe between his fingers and the anticoagulant in another hand. Pressing the bevel down through the cap of the bottle, and then taking his thumb to pull the plunger up. The barrel of the syringe starts to fill up decently with a semi-transparent liquid, the color slightly askew with a slight yellow tint. Project Prometheus pointed at it. “That’s what Dr. Gaul uses to thin my blood,” He rinses and repeats the process with the modified anesthesia. The subject pointed at the next one. “And that’s to keep me conscious, right?”

Coriolanus blinked blandly at them.

“How observant of you, I’m sure Dr. Gaul would be impressed that you remembered.” Coriolanus coolly replies. He didn’t mean it as a compliment, but Project Prometheus’s legs dangled a bit more in rhythm at it. He didn’t want to ask further. Dr. Gaul most likely told them all that, but he never knew when it came to the subject. They always managed to surprise him, somehow.

And he hated them for that.

“Can you stand up for me, please.” Project Prometheus got off smoothly from the table, placing both feet down and craning the muscle of its semispinalis capitis up to look at him properly. The tips of his leather shoes stood mere centimeters away from its bare distals. Already, he had placed down the filled syringes to the side. He swallowed down some access that started to gather inside his mouth before speaking. “Turn around.” Obediently, it turned its body around, the back of its thin, patient gown in front of him. The sheer material, kept together by two ties of strands around the splenius capitis and thoracolumbar fascia region. It always looked so flimsy to him. His gloved hand reached to touch the knot that wrapped its waist-line, trailing along the flimsy string. Coriolanus started to untie it.

“... Dr. Snow?”

“It’s just faster if I do this,” Speaking it, he can’t fathom why, but it felt like his words were trying to reassure him. That saying it aloud made it real. He doesn’t know why. It is real. If you want it done right, do it yourself; Coriolanus knows it better than anyone, and that’s what he’s doing. This is just him controlling the situation at hand.

“I’ll help you, then.”

No, it doesn’t need to do that, it can just – Its fingers reached up to start undoing the tie around its neck region. If he acted just as wild as he was feeling, he’d be tempted to bite away the stitched fingers for disobeying him ( seeing as how his own hands were too occupied to pull the subject’s hand away ). Instead, he settled with a slight scolding tone when he spoke while he still continued to untie, not bothering to look up from what his hands were doing. If he looked up, he'd be stuck anxiously watching it fumble around. “That’s not necessary, I got everything under control.” It’d be nice if it could, you know, follow that. One moment, they are pliant and willing to do what he says. The next, they are moving around without his permission, doing whatever it feels like. Whenever he senses like he’s getting closer to having Project Prometheus under his grasp, following the steps that he’s laid out, they instantly slip from his fingers. It makes him feel almost insane trying to put them back in his hand.

“But, I like helping you.”

The knot in his gloved grasp fell loose.

“Really?” His voice came a bit more hoarse than he’d like, clearing his throat a bit.

The fabric around the waist had loosened, revealing the bare skin of the subject’s lower half. Lifting his hands away, it seemed if he lingered his hands longer it felt like he was treading something dangerous. Unpredictable. Project Prometheus’s volatile behavior might just be contagious, he feared. Standing so close to them like this, whatever odd energy they carried, it was trying ( and failing ) to disrespectfully invade his. Shoes making a slight sound, Coriolanus took a few steps back to give Project Prometheus some room. Their fingers finally finished fiddling with the top knot. Just like a disappearing act, the gown fell to the floor, pooling around its feet. The subject stepped out from it, gently pushing the fabric to the side with their distals. Wow, so well-trained.

“I do, you’re always so nice to me.” Not after he finishes this trauma-inducing of an operation, he thought. Eyes transfixed, Project Prometheus never left his sight, moving to sit back onto the Operation with a push up from their arms. “So, I want to help you in ways I can.” They leaned back, kicking their feet under the table, peering back at him from under their lashes.

Was Project Prometheus’s eyelashes always so thick? After all this time in captivity? Their family must be agonizing over such a good batch of genes wasted.

“Thank you,” The words came out softly. “For being so good with me.” Trying to steady the loud thrumming of his veins, Coriolanus reached over his hand to the surgical tray, taking the first syringe in his hands. The thick, dark liquid jostling, catching the reflections of the ugly, overhead lights. The needle gleamed. The directions in where his blood moved felt too transparent, too obvious. An uncomfortable sensation of how… aware he felt regarding his body. And a complete lack of control to make it stop.

“Please, crane your head down for me.”

He needed it to stop.

Compliant, the subject kneeled their head down, brushing their hair to the side. Seamlessly, he pressed the needle in. Pressing the plunger down, watching until the entirety of the barrel emptied itself out. Project Prometheus remained still, as he continued on with the next syringe. Taking a cotton ball, he dabbed it with isopropyl alcohol. He gingerly rubbed the cotton over the injection sites, before placing gauze over it. A quiet thank you was whispered softly under Project Prometheus’s breath.

He took a small breath in.

Placing a gloved hand over the subject trapezius region, another on the deltoid. Just only the slightest of push, and the subject understood his gesture. Bringing their legs up to the table, they adjusted their position to lay down on the cold, steel table, holding onto his own hands for support. Their hair haloed around their head in uneven strokes, spread out. Despite the lights completely over their entire body, their eyes barely reflected any of it. Instead, they were peering at him, focused on him. Their hands still haven’t left his. Were they nervous?

“Is everything alright?” He asked.

“... Can you speak to me?”

Coriolanus blinked. He was a bit taken aback.

“Speak to you? Aren’t I doing that right now?”

The subject shaked their head minimally. “No, not that. I mean during the operation; can you speak to me?” Their fingers tightened at the fabric of his gloves, crinkling the material. “Dr. Gaul doesn’t get very talkative when she performs operations on me, so it makes the whole thing a bit hard to ignore sometimes.” That’s the point, it’s a torture sentence. “If that’s okay with you, Dr. Snow.” He wondered if the subject was comfortable making requests to Dr. Gaul just as much as it did with him.

Sharing a stare with the subject, they both held onto the silence.

Coriolanus breathed out.

“Fine, but it’ll strictly be in regards to the operation, only. Nothing else,”

For a slight moment, he didn’t know if it was a trick of his eyes, or real, but Coriolanus could’ve sworn he saw a brief glimpse of light dancing in the subject’s dark eyes. A droopy, half attempt of a small smile on their lips. Chapped lips spread, showing minimal cracks between dried layers of skin and small winks of their pointed cuspids. He felt the air stop for a moment.

“Thank you,”

Before releasing their hands from him and laying down flat against the table.

Coriolanus adjusted the gloves back to proper fitting, stretched the latex-leather evenly. Moving slightly away from the operation table, he went over to pull over the mobile floor standing lights closer. Hanging the operating lights at just the right angle over, he placed one hand over the subject’s eyes while his other went to flick on the lights. Quietly, Project Prometheus laid. A change of pace, but most definitely attributed to the modified anesthesia he administered now kicking in. With everything in its place, it was all ready to start. He prayed to whatever was out there, that cadaver dissections in class would be enough to carry him through the entire operation. And if not…

He’ll take whatever large stacks of paperwork Dr. Gaul had waiting for him after he was done putting the subject in the morgue.

If Dr. Gaul was kind enough to let Project Prometheus have a moment in the morgue.

Taking the scalpel within his hand, the gleam of the sterile steel refracted against the various angles of light. He pressed one hand against Project Prometheus against their ribcage.

“Take steady breaths,” He needed them for himself, too. Coriolanus breathed in sync with the rising and falling of the subject’s pectoralis major. “Perfect, now, on, 1, 2… “

And in his scalpel went.

A smooth dip in, evenly slicing through the top of the subject’s angle of louis; all the way down to the lowest part of their rectus sheath. A dark crimson streak leaking, steadily trailing after the drag of his knife. Ways from him, a small, almost quiet intake of breath was heard beside him. He almost missed it. So, the sensations already begin. But, thankfully, for now, no bodily squirming. Good, his nerves were already on edge about needing to make a careful incision. He wasn’t really interested in stopping right now to get up and put restraints on the subject. It would be uncomfortable on both ends. And the sounds so far, haven’t been… displeasing, to say the least. Not as bad as Livia sounded early this morning, so small wins for him to take in.

Taking a breath of his own, Coriolanus continued, pressing in the scalpel a bit deeper with the slightest pressure from his hand. Another intake of breath from Project Prometheus. The pitch almost stops him in his ministrations. It didn’t scream, nor did it let out a pained groan. The sound was airy. Blood ran wildly through his ears, the adrenaline picking itself up once more. Coriolanus felt his breath take on a small weight, a bit heavy in his mask as he eased back down his heart from the sudden sound. Again, fine. As long as it didn’t move. The scalpel sliced down past the rectus abdominis, past the subcutaneous tissue, until it touched the sternum. Hearing another quiet gasp of breath come from Project Prometheus, a small splatter of blood hit back up at him. It freckled around the ends of his surgical mask. The subject’s distals flexed a bit, to restrain itself from moving an inch. The blood reminded him of how sweltering the layers of medical wear felt on him right now, tight and restrictive.

He can’t stop now.

“How are you feeling?”

He hadn’t reached the moment where he could start recording for the internal exam, but suppose it wouldn’t hurt to check in. The scalpel continued to move, so that the peel back of flesh would be more clean and effective.

“... I… I’m fine…”

Oh, less talkative?

“… Around a 6… right now. Like… feeling something… unusual, a… and new.” Descriptions, too? Oh, they were being so good for him. This gives more to fluff up in his report after. The subject took steady breath between words, but nothing that seemed to indicate excruciating pain just yet. Rather, it felt like they were trying to speak through small discomfort. Should he look up to see what expression was on its face right now?

“You’re doing great at staying still.”

He licked his lips briefly, wetting them in concentration. Placing the scalpel down behind him on the surgical tray, he reached over to grab at the surgical rakes. Taking it between his fingers, he carefully dipped the rake past the crevice of an incision he made. “Stay strong for me and just keep taking steady breaths for me, okay?” Project Prometheus took a sharp intake of breath. Coriolanus had it dig into the first layer of skin, puncturing and pulling the skin back. The subject’s distals curled. Hooking the rake onto a handle of the operating table, he made sure it was kept in place. He rinsed and repeated with the other side. Coriolanus let out a small puff of air from his lips, inexplicably enraptured with the sight now laid before him. With the thin barrier now taken away, Coriolanus could see more clearly, the layers of muscle that moved in tandem with the rhythm of the subject’s steady breath. Protected by the intricate makings of the subject’s thoracic cage. A morbid curiosity to touch the layers of tissue, feel the blood pump under his gloves, but he held himself back. He needed to explore other things, not this. Blue eyes fixated on the flow of blood from the subject. The stream moved in controlled fashion. A small pool of blood was dripping down the sides of the subject, but not at levels that were concerning, yet. The dark crimson color contrasted and glimmered against the nauseating overhead lights. It looked almost black in the loud, greenish-hue of the room.

Once again, proven right.

He is a far better option than Dr. Gaul. The controlled, clean view he had was such a stark contrast from the violent photos shown in the project’s folder. Coriolanus was tempted even, to break his concentration to pull for a camera and take photos himself. To show Dr. Gaul, and any other doctor after him, how an operation of this level should be held correctly. A small smile grew under his mask. Reaching for the pneumatic sternal saw, gloved hands reached down to touch the sternal periosteum. Dragging his hands down all the way to the bottom of it, feeling the ridges, a discomforted whimper fell out from Project Prometheus. He shushed them quickly.

“It’s alright. I’m going to cut into your sternum now,”

“I… I ha… have no reason to doubt you, Dr. S… Snow.”

Raising the sternal saw, the light catching against the stainless steel material, he brought it down and aimed it just right. Before pressing down on the button and watching the saw blade activate and come to life. The whirring sound of the saw cutting through bone, in the same up and down motion he had done with his hands, he led the saw down. The sound of bone against steel drowned out any sort of sharp gasps that had been pulled out from Project Prometheus. But, he could see it. The ways their fingers flexed out and then curled inwards, trying to grip at anything stabilizing. One hand closed into a fist, and another was clawing ( and failing ) to grip onto the surface of the operation table. Only succeeding in splashing their nailbeds with their own pool of blood, scraping the liquid beside them. Yet, everywhere else was only miniscule fidgeting.

Coriolanus’s smile grew.

“You’re doing so good.” Praise just above a whisper, loud enough for the subject to hear. “You’re doing so, so good right now.”

Project Prometheus gave a soft exhale, before nodding as best it could

“I..It’s a 7… Ma-Maybe a 6?” The subject whined. “D…Discomfort, l-like… cracking…. joints.” The words spoke between gasps of breath.

It was still trying its best to relay notes for him, despite it all. Coriolanus let out a sharp laugh. Something profound in him twitched. His blood felt like it was pumping all through his body at scorching temperatures, everything becoming just so loud. God, was this what Dr. Gaul feels when she runs her gruesome operations? Coriolanus understands it. He thinks he’s finally starting to understand it! For only being his first time, the operation was turning out so smoothly! To add just the cherry on top, Project Prometheus was acting so obedient for him despite the gruesome actions he was performing on its body. So malleable, so eager to please him.

His hand reached behind him, as the saw finally cut down and separated the sternum, replacing quickly the saw with a sternal retractor.

“We finally made it through the tough part.” Correction, he did. He was the one doing all the work. “You’re fantastic.” He let out another laugh.

Placing it between the broken sternum to expand and create space for him to see. To push aside the thoracic cage, and give him full, uncensored access to the expanse of Project Prometheus’s most intimate belongings. The insides of their very being. Coriolanus could see it all. The varying tones of viscera that beat and moved rhythmically to the sound of the subject’s breath. All the pulmonary veins and arteries, leading up to the main center. Bright, carmine flesh that took his breath as Coriolanus could only stare, ensnared by the muscle glistening.

The literal heart of the project.

The sound of it was horrifically deafening.

As if Project Prometheus’s heart had entered into inside him, beating right into his very own tympanic membrane. Something visceral was infecting his body. Coriolanus was sure of it. The rush of the entire procedure was all getting to his head. Unconsciously, a gasp of breath left his mouth. Like as if the quick grasp at air would do some good to help him. That it would clear the haze that was starting to settle in the wrinkles of his mind. Futile, he knows, but what else could he do to alleviate it. Against his better judgment, even if Coriolanus knew he shouldn’t, his eyes moved quickly to the side to see how the subject was holding up. It was only going to be brief, just a second. But, he froze at what he saw. His breath hitching, the inside of his mouth drying up.

The subject laid immobile against the operation table, but their head was tilted to the side. Their body seemed to try to unconsciously shift away from the overwhelming sensation, but the subject was forcing it to stay in position. And their face… Coriolanus never thought he’d see this so soon, but their face looked so different from their usual expression of apathy. A healthy flush of color was spread all over, their brows twisted and furrowed in concentration. Its cracked bottom lip worried against their incisors, but not yet hard enough to bleed. Their eyes were closed down tightly, it couldn’t see him staring at them. It couldn’t read his scrambled thoughts; understand, for a second, under the warped fluorescent lights of the examination room, Project Prometheus almost looked…

Human.

A prisoner, a walking mutation… was looking human to him.

Aesthetically pleasing to his eyes, even.

He was turning insane.

He is insane.

Dr. Gaul didn’t pick her hand around the hat and chose him as her successor because he was an ‘upstanding’ and ‘righteous’ person. He didn’t get this far by playing by the rules. She hooked her nails into him, because right now, with his gloves shimmering, covered in the blood of the subject; he could feel her shadow standing over him. Her brilliant, white teeth peeking out from the dark, grimy corners of the room, cheering him on to keep going. And Coriolanus would do anything for her approval. The movement of his gloves felt sticky, as he shifted his hand over to pull out the stopwatch from the steel tray. His gaze never leaves the delirious sight of Project Prometheus’s face. Another hand of his, reaching across Project Prometheus’s body to hold onto the edge of the operation table. Pushing with just enough weight, Coriolanus brought his leg up and over the subject’s body. And then the other, not bothering at the sounds of blood splashing against his surgical gown. He didn’t care if it breached past the layers of medical wear and stained his clothes.

“D… Doctor… S…Snow?”

Project Prometheus carefully opened their eyes, thick lashes framing against the dull colors of their irises. Twinges of discomfort were behind them, but curiosity burned the brightest there.

“... I… Is ever…ything, oka–”

A sharp gasp caught off the subject’s words.

Between them both, his free hand had reached down past the lungs, pushing the muscle slightly aside. Gloved fingers touched and traced along the endless lines of arteries. Caressing the superior vena cava, the aorta, the auricle… all the way down to grip tenderly, yet promising, at the apex of Project Prometheus’s physical heart. The subject let out a choked sound under his attention. Doing their best to get intakes of air, the lungs of the subject were expanding and retracting besides his hand for him to feel. For him to see. With just the right amount of pressure, he could exert so much damage onto the project’s body. Give the subject respiratory issues for the rest of the project, disrupt the steady flow of enzymes. Crush their heart in just one sitting. Endless opportunities, and Coriolanus knows the subject knows that. There was understanding shared in the heavy silence between them.

But, they were doing nothing to stop him.

No attempts to remove his hands. No yelling, or crying to tell him to get off. Just simple, almost fawn-like eyes staring back at him in hopes for an answer. He couldn’t make out fear, and it baffled him. This whole operation has been nothing short of gruesome, and here he was standing over their body, sinking into their blood, their body, and they did nothing to stop him. This whole situation would’ve been downright disturbing, yet there was a tight knot in his body that he felt unwinding. The control of the entire operation is in his hands, but control of himself was the battle he was currently fighting. And it felt like he was losing the longer Project Prometheus blinked up at him, hints of small tears on their lashes. The longer he gazed back at them, all that was reflected in its dreary eyes was the sight of him. Just him.

“... Do you trust me?” He breathed out, finally.

The subject made an attempt at a sound, the splash of color never leaving their face.

“Y…Yes,”

“More than Dr. Gaul?” He didn’t even know what he was saying at this point, his mouth was rambling before he could even process it.

“...More… t…than anyone…”

And there it was.

The culmination of all that was building up. Those very words felt like it was undoing all the wounded up tension that had been piling since the moment he got up this morning. Coriolanus felt his muscles tremble. But, he couldn’t tell from what anymore. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to even name it, either. It’d just shatter the moment. What was there to even say to that? A thank you was so impersonal. And praise was far more than Project Prometheus deserved, at this point. They were showered enough in it already, what more could the subject want from him. To the eyes of the Citadel, the desire for the project was clear as day. But, in the perspective of a broken animal, what else could they aspire when freedom was conditioned out of them.

Did it matter at this point?

No, it doesn’t, Coriolanus decided. Because as long as he was in the room with them, Project Prometheus' existence was to serve his own selfish interests. And it was doing just that. Coriolanus leaned himself down over the subject. Propping an elbow up besides their head, their laborious breaths closer to his surgical mask. The heated air tickled and brushed against his ears. He tapped his forehead down beside the stainless steel space beside them, letting out a heavy exhale. Standing this close, he could make out that the subject had a faint scent of simple soap. The cooling sensation of the table did nothing to alleviate the warm dizziness swirling in his head.

Pressing down the button next to their left ear, the stopwatch started. Coriolanus spoke in their right.

“We are now starting the timer for the internal nerve exam.”

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thewertsearch · 2 days

Text

@manorinthewoods asked: We're still midway through Act 5, but I'd like to ask - what do you theorise will happen in the rest of A5 and in Acts 6 and 7 of Homestuck? ~LOSS (7/6/24)

It's an interesting question. We're coming up on the halfway point of the comic, but our current main plotlines - namely, Murderstuck, the Blackout, the Green Sun and the Scratch - all feel like they'll be wrapped up in a thousand-ish pages, along with the kids' session and the Act itself. The question of what's next is beginning to present itself, and I have a few thoughts.

My main prediction is that back half of the comic will be extremely English-centric. As the man behind Scratch's schemes, he's going to be revealed as the 'true' villain who's ultimately responsible for the current crisis, as well as crises yet to come. I think he'll elbow Perfect Jack out of the primary antagonist's position - and honestly, his chief minion is already more intimidating than Jack.

To contrast Noir, I think English will be a less instinctive, more cerebral villain. His choice of Scratch as a lieutenant suggests that he's more about carefully laid plans than open aggression, and his absence from the Felt Intermission suggests he prefers to hide in the shadows, weaving a web of conspiracy that would put Vriska to shame.

As a result, I expect the next arc of Homestuck to be more about information warfare than flashy displays of power. Our heroes will need to advance their understanding of the multiverse's wider cosmology, as they come to terms with what English is, what he wants, and most importantly, how to stop him.

The later arcs of the comic will involve discovering a glitch in spacetime that can break through English's supposed invincibility, while English works to keep the protagonists in the dark about his weaknesses. How this weakness could manifest, I can't say - but I do think Spades Slick will be directly involved in his demise.

Outside of English, I think the world of Homestuck will expand in other ways, too. It might finally be time to make contact with other Sburb Players, since our current sessions aren't going to be habitable for much longer. We might even be leaving the 'session' framework behind entirely, and travelling through the Furthest Ring to parts unknown.

I know these aren't very specific predictions, but it's hard to be specific about events which are thousands of pages away. I still don't know how the Pen-Pal fits into everything, for example, or why Gamzee is so important to the story.

I guess we'll find out together!

#asks #full liveblog #homestuck liveblog #act 5.2 #theories

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