@leavyes said: wow mister folger are you green now? that's so exciting welcome to the union.
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I Hate It Here. Let Me Out. Literally give me any other entity to serve, oh my GOD--
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@leavyes said: wow mister folger are you green now? that's so exciting welcome to the union.
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I Hate It Here. Let Me Out. Literally give me any other entity to serve, oh my GOD--

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"I don't usually go for older men, but... I can make an exception if I'm manhandled a little~"
@irafatum // random letters to the captain.
the pirate chuckles softly, shaking his head at the young woman’s ridiculous request. she was an odd one indeed, but he could do for an exciting change. ❝ It can’t be helped. Though, as a pirate, I have a bit of a rough touch anyways. ❞
jody pls don't take away my grenade launcher :(
‘ if you can’t be RESPONSIBLE with it, you don’t deserve to have it. ’ and blowing up your own home is certainly not.
@paranoiy said: “i won’t eat, i can’t think, i can’t sleep.”
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The Spiral’s cut deeper than the Watcher could ever hope to undo, to sanitize and entice Jon back fully and completely into the fold. Jon is still here, yes, still well within reach of the Eye, but the Spiral is corkscrewed, fish-hooked, the points of an arrow in a wound. Like everything else that Graham can recall -- his mother’s hands cupping his face in the kitchen, her desperate apologies, the deep burning claw marks of the not-thing, his dad’s luck as a gambling man, his own ending up as Head Archivist -- it seems inevitable he’ll lose Jon to the Spiral. Ah, he Knows it. Graham hates to cling only to end up losing.
But he clings anyway, tries to work with Jon and dissect the truth and keep him grounded and close to the Watcher, because Graham hates the idea of the ‘lesser of two evils’ but he doesn’t want to lose Jon. He’s tired of losing people. So instead of pushing Jon to eat and to sleep, he asks, “What’s stopping you, Jon?” The answer is obvious, but Graham is pulling at strings to undo it. Both hopeful and terrified at the same time.
"I'm going to forget you called me that. " from Wonbin
ㅤㅤ" but — but isn't that what you kind of are? " plump petals curved down into a frown, fingers toying with the hem of her skirt. " i know hyunsik is my boyfriend, but you're kind of my boyfriend too... "

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A shrug was all he could answer, in the end he had no idea if this was actually a good idea, but then again knowing the woman she was before her death, Aoto believed she wouldn't have minded. She'd never been the jealous kind anyway. "Suzuka...Nagasawa Suzuka. You would've liked her." Aoto grew a bit more quiet, even more reserved than usual but he did push a few stray hairs behind Sasha's ear. "She'd have told you all about those horror novels she'd read."
ㅤㅤthe feeling of his arms around her waist was usually one of comfort, like an anchor that kept the balloon of her heart weighed down so it wouldn't float away, a gentle reminder of her existence. but now it felt like one of the traps in her favourite horror films — like a wrong answer in response to his emotions might just have his arms cut through her and slice her in half. were emotions always this overwhelming?
ㅤㅤyou would've liked her. would she? if suzuka wasn't dead, she'd be the one in aoto's arms right now whilst sasha continued to roam the streets at night, existing as nothing more than a memory from aoto's past. she probably would've despised her for that reason alone, commonalities swept aside. but it was endearing, encouraging, almost, that aoto thought better of his jealousy riddled girlfriend. " cool. " she sounded cold and distant, inky eyes void of any emotion. she was envious of a ghost, but she was also pitiful, mournful, even, and she doesn't quite know how to process those feelings. " she sounds smart. i can't even read. " not above the level of a child, anyway. hence her obsession with films and graphic novels. " would you have been married by now? if... "
Making presents wasn't usual for Wonbin, not unless it was for his own benefit. Which in this case it obviously was. She was his favorite bit of entertainment lately, one had to give her that. Seeing how he had the gift delivered by his own personnel, it was easy to tell why his phone was lighting up with text messages not too long after. [ msg to M ] you gotta learn to follow instructions [ msg to M ] so you can fuck yourself with it all night and get used to it? There's no fun in that [ msg to M ] remember what I told you would happen if my name ever left your lips to someone? [ msg to M ] tell him all your dirty fantasies. [ msg to M ] tell him your nipples are clamped because it reminds you of a man's teeth pulling at them. tell him your cunt is stuffed and stretched because it's what you were made for. that's enough to have you dripping all over the confession bench.
ㅤㅤshe waits as patiently as she can for his response, eyeing up the temporarily forbidden toy — seeing stars as she imagines what it will feel like to wear it in a room of her respected peers and seniors tomorrow morning. she drops it shamefully when her phone buzzes, laying on her side with her face to the door, still cautious of possible trespassers as the words on her screen go straight to her cunt.
mija: i'm sorry, lord :( i'm still learning! mija: it's just so pretty... but i'm a good girl! i can wait! mija: can i show you how it fits tomorrow morning? mija: i'd never tell anyone, i promise... the only time i ever say your name is when i'm praying in my room at night and no one can hear mija: yes, sir ♡ i'll tell him that it's my duty to keep my pussy stretched out for my lord. and that every inch of me was made for god mija: can i at least cum tonight? i'll set my camera up to show you!
@mtchstck said: it was an accident.
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He’s barely singed (he tells himself, although he can’t help but want to waft his hand, stick it in a bucket of ice as a panic response--), but with Livvy looking as she is now -- quietly horrified at this genuine accident, yet he can’t help wondering if she is fascinated by this small flicker of untapped power like any other budding agent of fear (he knows from experience, so he can never judge) -- he’s much more concerned with trying to calm her down.
“Oh, it’s-- it’s OK, Livvy. No, no it was-- it was my fault for pushing too hard for an explanation.” He wasn’t one to let go of a trail, after all, and with Livvy so goddamn young and caught between the right thing and the powerful thing, he wants to try to do something right by someone. (Totally not a response to his own relationship with his parents, nope.) “It barely-- it doesn’t even hurt, it was just the shock, that’s all, I promise.” He smacks his lips, hoping to swerve away from this unpleasant topic before she can dig too deep into his, admittedly awful, lie.
“If you want, we can take a break and pick up later, or... just finish your statement here.” As much as he was loath to let a story go and slip out of his fingers like water.