𝓔ternal

𒂭 ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ɪ’ᴠᴇ ᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴡᴀɴᴛᴇᴅ

[eternallyaoleil]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ֗◌ ⃘ 𓈒 ──── 𝑒͟𝑣͟𝑒͟𝑛͟ ͟𝑡͟ℎ͟𝑜͟𝑢𝑔ℎ 𝑤𝑒’𝑟𝑒 𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑒𝑠 𝑎𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡, 𝑤𝑒’𝑟𝑒 𝑒𝑎𝑐ℎ 𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑦

𝔈ternal, the eternal heretic in every universe..the original esoteric being. 18 years of age in this plane, the most sag in soul and scorpio in the mind

𝔐y souls yearning.

Ɨ. ƗƗ.

[inspecter]

A light stretch of a double date with Clark & Lois otherwise known as Clois

"Patrick! Are you done?" Iris asked as she checked the time on the clock. It was 5:30 on a Saturday afternoon, and she let out a sigh in exhaustion. "IRIS! I'm trying to find my suit that's stretchy and formal enough," he answered her from upstairs, twitching his tie and putting on a red suit and looking at himself in the mirror with his arms crossed, trying to look hip. "DONE!" he shouted and rushed downstairs, noticing Iris wearing the green dress she had worn on their first date. "You look gorgeous. Is that the only dress you have?" he remarked as he stretched beside her, tilting his head.. She scoffed in amusement & vexation, "Well, it's not." She looks him up and down. "And Jesus H. Christ, Eel. You took longer than you should." "Well, I'm going. Catch ya later, Iris!" he stretches out the door. The car is in the driveway. He is beside it. She is still inside. She let out a sigh in exhaustion. "PATRICK O'BRIAN!" she shouted as he got to the car. He stretches back. Appears in the doorway. Sheepish. "Yes, ma'am," he answered to her. Iris grabbed the car keys from the second shelf, "You forgot your keys, Eel," she holds them out. He takes them. "Thank you, my beautiful wife" he thanked her and put his arms around her then kissed her forehead, stretching with her to the car. "You're impossible." "You love it." Iris settled into the driver's seat "I tolerate it." Eel stretched into the passenger seat "Same thing."

They arrived in Carlini's. The restaurant is elegant. Candles. White tablecloths. Soft music. Iris parks the car. Eel stretches out of his seat. She phases through her door. "Shall we?" he offered his arm to Iris playfully. "We shall," she answered him and took his arm. Lois Lane and Clark Kent are already seated. Lois is wearing a deep blue dress. Clark is wearing a suit that actually fits. "They're late," Lois said in frustration, watching the door. Checking his watch, Clark said, "They're not late. We're early." Lois smirked in amusement, and Clark adjusted his glasses and leaned onto the seat. "I'm being objective," he remarked. Lois playfully rolled her eyes. "You're being Clark." The door opens. Iris and Eel enter. She is glowing—literally, just a little; her lamp gold. He is grinning. His tie is backwards. Lois began to stand. "Morrow. O'Brien," she greeted them. "Lane. Kent." They air-kiss. Cheek to cheek. Professional. Efficient.

"Hey, Smallville. Nice tie." Eel stretched to shake Clark's hand. Clark shook his hand, not commenting on the stretch. "It's not backwards." Eel pulled his hand back. "That's what you think." "You're wearing the dress," Lois said to Iris, noticeably, as they sat. "It's comfortable," she answered her, shrugging her shoulder as her face went scarlet. "It's the dress from your first date," Lois smirked with a click of her tongue. "It's comfortable," she said, picking up a menu, trying to shrug it off. "You're blushing," Lois leaned into her seat in intrigue. "It's warm in here," Iris is not looking up at her, reading the menu. The waiter approaches. Young. Nervous. He has clearly been told that two of his tables are occupied by superheroes. "Can I start you with some drinks?" the waiter asked them. "Martini. Dirty. Extra olives." Lois immediately answered, "Just water, please," Clark answered sheepishly. "Get a real drink," Lois remarked, elbowing him. "I'm driving," Clark responded, adjusting his glasses. Lois rolled her eyes. "You're always driving." "Black coffee," Iris ordered her drink with no expression. The waiter blinked in concern. "At 7 PM?" "I'm a journalist. Coffee is blood." Iris shrugged, her lamp steel blue. "I'll have whatever's red and expensive," Eel ordered, stretching to look at the wine list. "I'll... I'll be right back," the waiter said, disturbed and looking at Eel's stretched arm. The waiter panickedly fled.

"You scared him." Lois acknowledged as the waiter ran, glancing at Iris. "I have that effect." she remarked, her lamp was rose. "You scare him too." Eel said in a impotent voice (as if he wasn't that powerful) "I do?" Clark asked in confusion. "You're Superman." Eel stretched his hands, pointing at Clark's chest. "It's the posture." Eel sneered. "I don't know what you're talking about." Clark sat straighter. "—Your glasses are non-prescription." Iris interrupted without looking up at her menu she kept for no reason, Clark removed his glasses "How did you—" he said in confusion. "I'm a reporter." She began to look up, putting the menu down and gesturing them to transmit the menus. "Stop terrifying my husband." Lois muttered to Iris in concern. "I'm being efficient." Iris shrugged. The food arrives. Lois has pasta. Clark has a salad (he's watching his figure, he says). Iris has a steak, cooked rare. Eel has somehow ordered every appetizer on the menu. Lois watched Eel to stretch the bread basket "Do you always eat like this?" she acknowledged, feeling disturbed.  "Only when I'm nervous." Eel answered, muffling with his mouth full of bread.  "Why are you nervous?" Iris asked him in concern, not looking up and eating her food. "Because I'm on a double date with Superman." Eel answered as he swallowed the bread all in one without choking. "I'm not—" Clark opined, almost choking on his salad. "You are. We know. It's fine." Eel pointed a breadstick at him in a mocking, accusatory tone. "You told him?" Lois exclaimed in shock, glancing at Iris for the blame. "I didn't have to. He figured it out... He's in the League for a reason" Iris shrugged, cutting her steak. "I'm observant." Eel proudly exclaimed, doing a heroic stance as he sat,  "You're stretchy." Iris deadpanly remarked. "Same thing." Eel grinned as he grabbed mozzarella sticks. "How long have you known?" Clark quietly asked with concern. Eel counted his fingers, "Since I got into the League, Clarky". "I was careful." Clark ate his salad. Eel shrugged. "I was looking." "He's impossible." Lois whispered to Iris across the table, "You love it." Iris met her eyes. Lois sighed, "I tolerate it." "Same thing." Eel and Clark said in unison, Clark sighing.

The conversation drifts. Work. Crime. The state of the city. "You're working on something. The Synod." Lois acknowledged to Iris. "I'm always working on something." Her lamp flickered steel blue as she ate her steak. "This is different. You're obsessed." Lois retorted, leaning forward. "I'm thorough." Iris settled down her fork, feeling like she's getting an intervention. "You're avoiding us." Lois blurted out in concern. "Should we intervene?" Eel stretched to Clark's ear quietly "I've learned not to." Clark answered Eel as he sipped his water. "You haven't called. You haven't visited. You haven't—" Lois continued. "I've been busy." Iris cut her off in a vulnerable state. Lois stood. "You've been hiding." The table goes silent. IRIS stands. Her lamp is crimson. "I'm not hiding." Iris quietly muttered, delicately. "Then what are you doing?" Lois asked her in concern of her state. Iris longingly paused, "Surviving." She sits. Lois sits. The tension hangs. "Does anyone want dessert?" Eel raised his hand, trying to make the room a little better. The waiter brings dessert. Tiramisu. Four forks. "I'm sorry." Lois apologized to Iris. "For what?" Iris asked as she ate her tiramisu. "For pushing." Lois answered her apologetically. Iris met her eyes, "Don't be. You were right." Lois was shocked with her eyes widening, "I was?" Iris nearly smiled at her,  "I was hiding." Lois reached her hand across the table, "You don't have to hide from us." Iris took her hand, "I know." Eel stretched to steal a bite of tiramisu. "This is very emotional. Can we eat now?" Clark pulled the plate away, "Wait your turn." Eel pouted acting like a needy cat, "You're not the boss of me." Clark smiled with a soft chuckle, "I'm Superman." Eel grumbled with a shrug, "That's fair."

Lois and Iris walked into the restroom; Lois and Iris stood at the sinks. Washing hands. Fixing makeup. Pretending not to cry. "You're really okay?" Lois asked in mild concern, looking at Iris's reflection. Iris met her eyes in the mirror, "I'm getting there." she softly answered her. Lois turned to face her "That's not an answer." Lois blurted out. Iris turned as well, "It's the only one I have." she responded delicately. Lois pulled her into a hug, "You're impossible." she muttered as they hugged. "You love it." Iris remarked as she hugged her back. "I tolerate it." Lois remarked back as she pulled the hug, Iris almost smiled "Same thing." At the same time, Eel and Clark were in the men's restroom. Eel and Clark stand at the urinals. Awkward. Eel didn't look at Clark, leaning onto the sink. "So. This is weird," Eel acknowledged. and clicked his tongue, feeling alerted. "We don't have to talk." Clark responded to Eel as he washed his hands primly and properly, Eel turned around to wash his hands. "I feel like we should talk." he concernly blurted out about their wives. "About what?" Clark turned off the water. Eel met his eyes in the mirror, "About them." "They're fine." Clark pretended it was better as he dried his hands. "Are they?" Eel asked Clark quietly with mild concern, turning around to Clark's direction with a chuff. "They will be." Clark answered him, feeling hopeful and Eel huffed out. Eel nodded "That's what I keep telling myself as well. I had one incident like her, I felt different like her, I felt controlled like her. She doesn't feel much emotions like me so I'm not sure if she's even okay enough..." Eel stated earnestly about Iris. "I feel that way about Lois as well, polar opposites yet similar in many ways. Loving each other isn't enough, but sometimes it is in this world; you and Iris need each other... Patrick, she may not feel much physically, but she feels a lot for you, especially."

Outside of Carlini, it's night and the street lights are on. They stand outside. The valet brings the cars. Lois and Clark's car. Iris and Eel's car. "We should do this again." Lois said to Iris in a content voice, Iris smiled tenderly "Without the arguing?" her lamp was rose, "The arguing is the best part." Lois remarked with a soft grin. "Same thing." Iris remarked back. "It was good to see you." Clark said to Eel in a content voice, holding his hand up, "You too, Smallville." Eel shook his hand, Clark not letting go, "Take care of her." he reminded him softly.  "Always." Eel met his eyes. Iris and Eel get into the car. Iris drives. Eel is in the passenger seat. His hand is on her knee. Iris focused on the road, not looking at him. "You're staring," she acknowledged him. Eel didn't look away from her. "You're beautiful," he complimented her, smiling tenderly as he admired her. Her lamp was rose; she continued driving, "You're biased." Eel squeezed her knee, "I'm accurate." Iris softly smiled, "Same thing." They drive in silence. The city glows. "I'm proud of you." Eel quietly said as he continued admiring her, "For what?" Iris asked as she glanced at him and Eel met her eyes, "For surviving." he sincerely answered her, leaning onto the passenger seat. Her lamp was gold "I'm still here." she sincerely remarked as she drove. Eel took her hand, "I know." The car. The city lights blur past the windows. Iris drives. Eel watches her. Her lamp is gold. His tie is backwards. They are not perfect. They are not efficient. At least they are together. And that's enough.

tag, you're it: @namiversee. @rexsplooge . @eternallyaoleil. lmk if anyone wants to be added.

[barsilaybdroer]

daily clicks for palestine

donate to feed refugees in rafah

spreadsheet of gofundmes to evacuate families

fundraiser for esims for gaza

orgs to donate to

[inspecter]

WHY DO YOU LET ME STAY HERE ? I'm just sitting on the shelf

‎‎ ‎ untalented bisexual woman who does bad jokes for a living, that's a @wannabecomedianne.

‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ Inspecter Gadget (Whoo-hoo)

(Very bad Jerry Seinfeld impression) Do you ever notice how I redid my intro, but the only thing that changed is the video? It's like how the internet got from images to video to GIFs. Do you ever notice how my business card doesn't work anymore? I'm unemployed (please help me dear god)

Now for the actual intro, I'm Daenerys (yes right after GOT) or you could call me Dany (also from GOT). I go by she/they and I'm bisexual with a ton of drs because I'm "creative" apparently. also, I'm filipino. And I'm married, I think. My main drs are DC, and Fame. I have been into shifting since like early 2020. August virgo apparently and I have a tragic backstory called being born.

Now, time for crowd work...

(basically me but with a notepad and a pen) SO WHAT DO YOU DO?

I don't know what you mean by that, mini me (that was clearly an Austin Powers reference). But I write, I dance, I sing, I read, I act whether if it's improv or musically, listening to music of course, photography, karaoke, movie reviews. Wow, I'm untalented as fuck but literally the weakest thing I can do is drawing.

WHAT DO YOU LIKE?

comedy (just straight out). the peanuts. calvin & hobbes. anything with superheroes. improv. sketch comedy. disney xd & nickelodeon kid. murder mysteries. a lot of film. shows which is also a lot. video games (sonic, marvel rivals, dispatch, roblox, mario, sims 4 but with a ton of cc & mods basically). dropout/collegehumor. I think that's it...

WHAT'S ON THE RADIO?

great wording... 777.7 Inspecting the music.

I'm your host, Dany and not the other two (just me with a microphone)

The current is... Charli XCX. Fiona Apple. Lady Gaga, KMFDM. Korn. Sabrina Carpenter. System Of A Down. Paramore. Chappell Roan. Hole. Britney Spears. Rammstein. She Wants Revenge. MCR. PinkPantheress.

That's a real metalhead and a woman with taste of really good women.

YOU'RE A BIG POP CULTURE ENTHUSIAST, WHAT'S YOUR FAVORITE CELEBRITIES?

Wow, you picked the right woman for this.

ben schwartz. matt dillon. rebecca ferguson. diane lane. john waters. david lynch. jim henson. trevor moore. matt johnson. jay mccarol. lino brocka. luis buñuel. gregg araki. david bryne. terry jones. terry gilliam. james gunn. craig gillespie. agnés varda. jacques demy. lars von trier. amy hecklering. elaine may. mike nichols. john cassavetes. peter falk. gena rowlands. anthony bourdain. jim carrey. robbie williams. mike myers. amy poehler. will arnett. aubrey plaza. nick offerman. kathryn hahn. michael palin. john cleese. david dastmalchian. zooey deschanel. krysten ritter. jennifer lawrence. emma stone. ryan gosling. danny pudi. bobby moynihan. david tennant. lin-manuel miranda. gil ozeri. adam pally. lisa gilroy. lauren lapkus. colton dunn. america ferrera. florence pugh.

That's a fucking lot.

BORED? PAY ATTENTION TO THESE #NEEDED #BLESSED

DNI/BYF

"ME" IN OTHER MEDIA

THE SOCIAL WALL

THE MAP (currently being printed out)

if you're still bored, here's an ai summary.... loading... loading...

fucking read those.

[inspecter]

INTRODUCTION TO MY 80s FAME DESIRED REALITY

Diane Reyes Del Rosario (born August 27, 1962) is an Filipino-American actress, comedian, and writer. Known for her distinctive blend of deadpan wit, emotional restraint, and versatility across genres, she is a celebrated figure in American cinema and television. A prominent cast member of Saturday Night Live from 1987 to 1996, Rosario transitioned into a prolific film career, starring in iconic comedies such as Ferris Bueller's Day Off (1986), Wayne's World (1992), and The Truman Show (1998). Born in Brooklyn, New York, to Filipino-American parents, Rosario studied at New York University before joining the Second City improv troupe. She is the recipient of several accolades, including a Golden Globe Award and two Screen Actors Guild Awards.

Rosario made her film debut in the Philippine psychological drama Kisapmata (1981), portraying Mila Carandang, a performance that earned her critical notice in the arthouse circuit. In 1985, she gained mainstream recognition as Jennifer Parker in Robert Zemeckis's Back to the Future. The following year, she portrayed Sloane Peterson in John Hughes's Ferris Bueller's Day Off and appeared as Carmen in Three Amigos (1986). Critics praised her ability to anchor high-energy comedies with a grounded, observant presence.

In 1987, Rosario joined the cast of NBC's Saturday Night Live (SNL) as a featured player. During her nine-year tenure, she became known for her celebrity impressions and her "cool girl" persona in sketches. Rosario famously parodied Cher and Winona Ryder, and co-created the recurring sketch "The Observationalist."

While on SNL, she continued to appear in films, notably Spaceballs (1987), Earth Girls Are Easy (1988), and Drugstore Cowboy (1989). Her performance in the latter marked her pivot toward dramatic roles. She left the show in 1996 to focus on film acting full-time.

Rosario married Canadian-American actor and comedian Jim Carrey in 1998. The couple met twice prior to their marriage; first during Carrey's brief appearance on SNL in the mid-90s, and later on the set of Earth Girls Are Easy in 1996, though they did not begin dating until shortly before Rosario left SNL.

FILMOGRAPHY

Kisapmata (1981) - Mila Carandang

Ferris Bueller's Day Off (1986) - Sloane Peterson

Back To The Future (1985) - Jennifer Parker

Spaceballs (1987) - Princess Vespa

Ishtar (1987) - Shirra Assembler

Saturday Night Live (1987–1996) - Herself / Various

Three Amigos (1986) - Carmen

Earth Girls Are Easy (1988) - Candy Pink

Drugstore Cowboy (1989) - Dianne

Wayne's World (1992) - Cassandra

Wayne's World 2 (1993) - Cassandra Wong

Naked (1994) - Libby

Dumb & Dumber (1994) - Mary Swanson

Serial Mom (1994) - Beverly Stuphin

Liar Liar (1997) - Audrey Reede

The Truman Show (1998) - Meryl Burbank / Hannah Gill

Igby Goes Down (2002) - Mimi Slocumb

Lilo & Stitch (2002) - Nani

Dogville (2003) - Ma Ginger

Factotum (2005) - Jan

Lars and the Real Girl (2007) - Karin

Coraline (2009) - Mel Jones / Other Mother

Easy A (2010) - Rosemary

Mr. Popper's Penguins (2011) - Amanda

Enough Said (2013) - Eva

Moana (2016) - Sina

Captain Underpants: The First Epic Movie (2017) - Ms. Ribble

The House That Jack Built (2018) - Lady 1

A Real Pain (2024) - Marcia

Eddington (2025) - Paula

tag, you're it: @namiversee. @rexsplooge . @eternallyaoleil. lmk if anyone wants to be added.

[eternallyaoleil]

guys..ik it’s been a while but i just graduated and got hooked on love island 😭

idk how to catch myself back up, I feel like i walked into a whole different world

[easyboyrecliner]

⅋̳. 𝒊 am the bringer of s𝑇⍶𝓇͟ˢ , the bringer of light & death , a 𝑓⍶l𝔰ⲉ 𝒶𝖓gə͟l

2018 : // 𝒹𝒶𝓇𝑒lıʌǝp 𓍝 𝕯R ⋮ ❛ ȶɦɛʀe 𝙞̲ˢ ˢφ 𝘮̲uch 𝕾tubbφrnⲉss 𝙞̲n 𝑇hⲉ h𝓊𝖒⍶𝖓 ‘ ⲏⲉ⍶R𝑇 ❜ 𓋹𓃠𓋹𓃠𓋹 . #GODDESS&WAITRESS , a shooting star ⅋ false angel

❛ she was like a hurricane , wild and free. but as elegant as a star in the sky. ❜

۪ ݁ 𝙾̲𝑫𝑬𝑇𝑇𝑬 : 𝒮𝒯𝓔ℛN ݁ ۪ ୧ , . . . a duty bound waittress who inspired more chaos than fear: as odette , a name she chose to hide her identity , is no ordinary waitress working in the halls of 𝒃𝖎̲sȶ𝓇͟ᵒ h𝓊𝔡𝔡𝒚. the loving bistro that has too much drama, santa fae chickens, and a certain group of lawyers that frequent the premises.

t𝖍̲ⲉ𝓇͟ⲉ'ˢ ⍶ s𝑇⍶𝓇͟ m̲a𝖓   ✶₊]   ฬ⍶iting 𝖎̲𝖓̲ t͟𝖍̲ⲉ 𝒮𝐊̲𝑦

ˢʷᵃⁿ ˡᵃᵏᵉ　𝖔𝖕.²⁰　//　　ACT IV.. ⁿᵒ.²⁹　( 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚎! )

her true identity is that of a 𝖌𝘰𝒅𝒅ⲉ𝖘𝖘 : one hailing from another planet, tugged far , far, away in the galaxy. the planet is called 𝔩̲𝔩̲𝖎̲u𝔯̲𝖓𝖎̲⍶ : called paradise on the 𝔩̲𝔩̲𝖎̲u𝔯̲𝖓𝖎̲⍶n tongue. it is small, but the population is larger than anticipated. immortal and mortal walk alongside another. 𝔩̲𝔩̲𝖎̲u𝔯̲𝖓𝖎̲⍶n people reside in the underground, living in temples crafting by their own hands. it is a planet shrouded in fog which carry countless of stars, illuminating the otherwise dark planet : as no sun is able to shine through the tunnels that lead to the underground cities. it is notoriously known to be a planet that is shrouded in secrecy, and it is best intended to keep it that way. the 𝔩̲𝔩̲𝖎̲u𝔯̲𝖓𝖎̲⍶n's fought hard to be hidden from the prying eyes of others, but whatever for?

𝔩̲𝖎̲𝔯̲𝖎̲ȶ𝖍̲, otherwise known as 𝖔𝒅𝓮tt𝓮, or the ⲉvⲉ𝖓st⍶𝔯̲ of 𝔩̲𝔩̲𝖎̲u𝔯̲𝖓𝖎̲⍶, is a goddess of peace and known trickster sp𝖎̲r𝖎̲t . 𝔩̲𝖎̲𝔯̲𝖎̲ȶ𝖍̲ is also an oracular 𝖌𝘰𝒅𝒅ⲉ𝖘𝖘 , meaning that she is tied to fate and destiny — prophetic dreams haunt her in her nights sleep. they call her the oracle as well, providing prophecies to those who ask. kings, queens, merchants, or anyone who dared venture into her temple had been met with nothing more than a warm welcome. her presence was calm and serene, utmost peaceful. 𝔩̲𝖎̲𝔯̲𝖎̲ȶ𝖍̲ had been regarded as a 𝖌𝘰𝒅𝒅ⲉ𝖘𝖘 of stars and astrology as well — she had been the sole reason as to why stars shine as brightly as they did. but due to her disappearance a light in the ever-lasting-fog had begun to grow dim. the ancient greeks would’ve confused her with the 𝔩̲⍶dy ⍶sȶ𝑒𝔯̲𝖎̲⍶ , someone 𝔩̲𝖎̲𝔯̲𝖎̲ȶ𝖍̲ views as a friend...she is best described as a runaway de𝖎̲ty, who thrives off of the attention of being worshipped, but is in desperate need of a break.

she journeyed far and wide, in searchings of peace and calm, and 𝔩̲𝖎̲r𝖎̲ȶ𝖍̲ had found what she desperately wanted.

the ⍶və͟𝖓g𝑒𝓇͟s , as well as the gu⍶𝔯̲𝔡𝖎̲⍶𝖓s of the g⍶l⍶x𝒚, are looking for her — though she is no threat : just a trickster goddess let loose in new york! but alas no one expect 𝖒⍶tt 𝖒u𝔯̲𝔡𝖔ck, the devil of hell’s kitchen and the vigilante known as “𝒹𝒶𝓇𝑒lıʌǝp” , has a slight sense of her identity. though he mistakenly mistook her for an angel. ever since he found out that was not the case, he referred to her as a 𝑓⍶l𝔰ⲉ 𝒶𝖓gə͟l. 𝖔𝒅𝓮tt𝓮 had simply laughed and dismissed him. that sums up their relationship — though they are reluctant allies.

⅋̳. 　𝒎𝒚　　NA · ME —  ᶦˢ`𝗔⠀ ᴷᴵᴸᴸᴵᴺᴳ⠀ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃.

: 𝟿 𝐋𝐈(𝒗)𝐄𝐒 \　　 ᴰ̲ᴿ̲ : set place in the city of NEW YORK. featuring the characters introduced in the show 𝒹𝒶𝓇𝑒lıʌǝp , as well as the ⍶və͟𝖓g𝑒𝓇͟s , and other 𝒎𝘢r𝒗𝘦l characters.

❛ floating under water , ever changing picture, hours out from land , in tunes with all our dreams ❜

۪ ݁ 𝙾̲𝑫𝑬𝑇𝑇𝑬 & MATT ݁ ۪ ୧ , . . .two fiends that reluctantly act as allies. once having been friends for a brief period, matt broke off their friendship after feeling betrayed by odette. as she was not quite the woman she made him believe her to be. though his fondness for her will be the cause for his eventual downfall, he cannot help but still care for her, despite her lying to him about her identity.

dφ𝖓't h⍶t𝔢 t𝙝𝖊 g𝙞𝙧l   ✶₊]   j𝘶st h⍶te t𝙝𝖊 Շ𝖗i𝖒𝔢

/ /.⠀ 𝑶𝑵 ᴬ͙   𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩:  𝒎𝘰s𝑇 𝑓𝘰𝘶𝔩̲.

the 𝑓⍶l𝔰ⲉ 𝒶𝖓gə͟l , is the 𝒃ane of matt murdock's existence. he deemed odette to be deciteful, if only he knew she was a trickster deity. nothing but humiliation and shame coursed through his veins when he was reminded of the instance. and all she felt was a slight amount of pity, as well as amusement, for matt murdock.

he had wholeheartedly believed that an angel had descended from the heavens to guide him into gods path — after dealing with the problem that was frank castle and his unwillingness to cooperate. he had been angry at everyone, but above all at himself. he felt a twinge of failure, unable to help castle turn to the light. to turn good.

the vigilante had taken his frustrations out on those deserving of his penitence.

and it was one of those nights where he happened to hear the distressed screams of a woman. and it was then he acted on his instincts: to help. he rushed, ran, hurried, to save the woman in danger. there was urgency in the way he ran, as he knew women were unsafe during late hours like these. he wished to help, all he wished was to help

though when daredevil arrived all he could sense was a limp body and a person standing next to the body laying on the floor. it confused him. because for a matter of fact the woman standing did not seem to have much muscle on her, and was presumably of short stature. yet she had saved herself: which filled matt with satisfaction. he could feel her gaze, warm yet hard, on him. for reasons he did not know, it unsettled him — her stare felt questioning, now that he thought about it. as if she'd been judging him, daredevil, to help her. it also unsettled him how much comfort it brought him that the woman had been able to fend for herself.

"are you alright?" he had asked, worry overtaken him. for once he ignored his intuition, for something about her seemed...wrong. matt couldn't quite put his fingers on it. he could smell blood, but matt wasn't sure if it was hers or that of the attacker.

"i am, thank you stranger. i suppose you are the masked vigilante that they refer to as 𝒹𝒶𝓇𝑒lıʌǝp?" she had replied. her voice was warm, featherly light, and cheerful despite almost having been assaulted. there was a slight accent to her voice, pleasant now that he thought about it. but the way she spoke was. . .regal, old. he guessed her to be in her twenties by the sound of her voice, so he thought it odd she spoke so. . .strangely. "i have heard much about you and your deeds for this city. how marvelous that someone like you ought to help those in need! but i am well capable of protecting myself."

matt heard, sensed, that she moved closer to him. the faint sound of her footsteps echoing off the cobblestone beneath them.

"i admire your bravery, stranger. i haven't met many men like you. so brave. why, i must still thank you for the attempt of being my knight in shining armor. i suppose i'll see you around, yes?" by the sound of her voice, she had been smiling at him. calling him a hero. he had been one, but there was slight guilt consuming him for reasons inexplicable to him. "though i have a feeling we will meet another soon again. i am called odette, you'll be in need of the name when we happen to stumble into another once more."

odette, like the swan princess in tchaikovsky's ballet play. beautiful name, for a woman with such a beautiful soul.

"i...thank you?" matt did not quite know what to say. he chuckled, then she snickered as well.

it warmed him slightly knowing she found amusement in this situation as well.

matt felt her walk closer to him. he did not take a step back. being too transfixed on this strange lady and her weird way of talking. and when she pressed her hand against his cheek, wiping away the blood he forgot to rub off, he felt his heart stop.

"were you injured, stranger?" odette had asked, sadness and concern lacing her voice.

her goodness surprised him. that she cared, also surprised him. so far the only people that cared for his well being were froggy, claire, and karen as well.

"yes, but it's n...nothing to worry about." did he just stutter?

she chuckled. clicking her tongue and shaking her head.

"lies. i can smell the blood on you. it’s fresh. by the smell of it." she chuckled. "I know a friend of a friend who'd do a fine job at patching you up, mr. daredevil. but alas. no fighting for this night anymore, you'll tear even more tissue and neither of us want the wound to get infected."

the air shifted slightly as she removed her hand. pressumably pointing to where his other wounds were. not that he was aware of them, he was, but he could not see them. telling her that he was blind would give away a big part of his identity, so he refrained on mentioning it.

what a thoughtful offer though.

"i am fine. i do have a friend who can patch me up." claire would not be pleased to see matt show up at her doorstep again. "but it is very sweet of you to ask your friend's friend."

a hum escaped her lips acknowledging his words, but it seemed like she did not quite believe him. matt wished to see her face and her expression. . .for her tone rendered him clueless, and the way she carried herself was unlike anyone he had met. he wanted to get a better grasp on her.

"i don't believe you, mr. daredevil!" odette gave no further explanation and simply grabbed his wrist and dragged him behind her. matt tried getting her to loose her grip on him, but she was surprisingly strong. she stepped over the unconscious guy, who in return let out a grunt, and she then said: "next week again, sweetheart?" the sarcasm was obvious.

matt was left to wonder silently. he did not want to fill out the silence that hovered above them, it felt pleasant. and odette did not seem in the mood to talk. she seemed deep in thought, as she guided him through new york city's streets. he wondered if her lips would be pursed if she was thoughtful. if she cared that she would be seen walking with daredevil, dragging him by the wrist?

surely.

"why are you doing this?" matt found himself asking before he could stop himself.

"because i am kind. i hate seeing people injured. and the smell of blood is obnoxious. the smell would cling on you for days." there was the blood thing again, he did not know what it meant. but before he could ask she answered: "i have a good nose."

"a hero like you should take better care of his body, you know. one day you'll wear a chicago overcoat and no one shall see you ever again." odette replied. a slight tinge of anger laced in her voice.

"chicago overcoat?"

"coffin! my apologies, i read a lot of books from the thirties." she explained. anger had been replaced with joy. but matt sensed it somewhat to be a lie, he did not press. "i watch noir films with my cats. they're very enjoyable! i forced a friend, who is a film geek by the way, to lend me his movies."

and then odette filled the silence with her blabber. he discovered the slang she used was a mixture between decades, matt found himself surprised when odette suddenly used "bodacious" and overuse of "excellent" only pinpointed that she had watched "bill and ted's excellent adventure" one too many times. which he had been right about after he questioned her — the two talked about the movie for a good fifteen minutes before she switched the topic once more. he found it easy to talk to her — something about her radiated gentleness and sereness. matt felt drawn to her like a moth to a flame. they talked from her love to noir movies, to her love for bad movies, to cats, to her dislike of coffee (which turned into a slight argument), and her pure, unadulterated, love for drawing. she offered to draw his daredevil persona, which flattered him.

when she pause, he heard the familiar clatter of keys. had she lead him to her home?

"careful, my dogs love strangers like you."

whatever that meant.

odette pulled him with her inside and closed the door behind her. silence greeted his ears before he heard multiple things rushing down to them. her dogs, presumably. she never let go off his wrist, carefully guiding him around her home. when she pushed him down a chair, he realized how tense he had been. tense, due to the fact he felt people following them. tense, because he worried for her safety more than his. but now he was in the comforts of her home, being taken care of her. . .and being greeted by four large dogs sniffing him. he had not noticed that her hand slipped from his wrist and that her presence, which had steadied him, was gone. she was still in the same room, but tending to other things.

odette was getting the necessary things to clean his wounds with.

matt sat on the chair, weakly raising an arm to patt one of the dogs head. he noted that they were rather fur-y.

"lady! odile! castile! perseus! stop." then she muttered something on a tongue he had never heard before and the dogs seized their relentless attempt on gaining his attention.

"what dog breed is this? their fur feels silky." matt questioned. wincing as a sharp pain at his side shot through him.

"borzoi. don't move, you'll bleed onto the carpe." then she muttered something about it being expensive and how hard blood was to wash off.

odette stepped closer, maneuvering through her dogs and pulling a chair so she could sit next to him. it scrapped the carpet lightly and her perfume hit him like a slap to the face when she sat stood right next to him. he wondered how he hadn't noticed it earlier.

"can you get out of that...shirt? i'll take my dogs out, so you have privacy." and with that she walked away. giving him the privacy he had needed. it made him smile that she respected his privacy so much. it is as if she knew the struggle of hiding herself. it gave him time to think, as he pulled off the shirt. wincing once more at the pain. at the blood he felt gushing through his body.

matt sensed her lurking, watching him once again, after seven minutes.

"you can come in. it's your house after all." matt said.

"well...you are my guest. it is not everyday a masked vigilante enters my home and needs to be patched up." a weak attempt at humor.

odette knew that the mask would stay on, she made no comment when she walked back into the room. she grabbed something and gently took his hand in hers. she handed him a cup, filled with some liquid he was unfamiliar with.

"drink it. it'll help with the pain."

he trusted her and drank it with one gulp.

then odette moved to sit down on the chair again, leaning closely as she carefully investigated his wound. matt took a sharp breath when her finger came to touch the skin near his wound. the drink, whatever it was, did as she promised. it helped the pain. it helped so well he almost blacked out, if it were not for her beginning to disinfect the wounds.

"hold still. you are squeaming around like a fish." she muttered underneath her breath. a small laugh escaped her. "you are used to the pain though. i've seen others. . .handling it not as well as you."

a compliment laced with honeyed poison.

"yeah well. . .i don't want to embarrass myself in front of a beautiful lady."

another laugh. but he was met with no retort: instead he was meet with her humming a tune.

matt noticed how gentle she was while cleaning his wound. and eventually when she stitched it up. she did not scold him — though he had no doubt she'd scold him if he were to open the wound. she was graceful. very much so. he had to think if he had met a person as graceful as her, the only one who came to mind was elektra. but there was just something different in the way that odette seemingly carried herself.

he did not know what.

neither could he shake the feeling off that she was different. not only her personality, he found her strange in the most pleasant of ways, but just...something he couldn't name.

"now. you need plenty of rest, mr. daredevil. that wound is nasty, but i've seen worse." whatever she meant by that. "i'd recommend taking a few days off. the city won't fall apart if you are not there."

with that she touched his cheek, fingers brushing slightly over the cowl and the cold skin exposed to the even colder air. he felt at peace. utterly so. as if something holy had touched him. it was enlightening. had an angel of the lord come down to bless him?

a man only dared dream.

pleasant dreams only last so long.

she was no angel of the lord.

odette was a deceitful demon, or something along those lines. she had fooled him, irequabbly so. it infuriated him that over the course of a month, he had grown so attachted to this woman. but he dug his own grave, had he not? desperately clinging to an idea of her?

when questioned as to what she truly was, odette gave no answer. it was not his buisness, she had told him. but she liked him well enough to keep him around, despite matt being nothing more than angry with her.

ever since he called her an 𝑓⍶l𝔰ⲉ 𝒶𝖓gə͟l.

her predicament had not gotten better when she began to see ℬ𝔢̲𝖓j𝐚m̲i𝖓 𝗣⌖i𝖓𝒅𝙚x𝑇𝙚𝓇͟ , where matt had only been dismissed when he asked her why exactly it had been him she began to see and not someone who was sane. odette teased him with sounding jealous.

⅋̳. 　\\ 𝕿𝖍𝖊̳ 𝒘𝒐𝒎̲𝒂𝒏 : 　 [𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑] 　ᴄʟᴀᴡꜱ͟,

✶` 𝕯̅𝒓 : sink your t̲e̲e̲t̲h̲ , you’re 𝔦𝔫 ʅσʋҽ for one night. a lyric from the song "lust for vampyr" that odette most commonly associates with benjamin poindexter. for no reason at all. if you'd also ask her for another song she'd associate him with: stalker's tango, hopelessly devoted to you, prom queen & an unhealthy obession. don't ask her why!

۪ ݁ 𝙾̲𝑫𝑬𝑇𝑇𝑬 : BENJAMIN ݁ ۪ ୧ , . . . the foes to matt murdock's existence. the couple,, as odd as either of them respectively was, fit well together and made it a slight challenge to bother matt as much as possible. it was for their own amusement, so he thinks. if it was not him they bothered, it would be wilson fisk. the grudge either hold against him, for trying to claim odette's life, was nothing daredevil, nor any other hero, could stop. but as crazy as both odette and benjamin were, they were very much in love.

❝ weird science. magic and technology. voodoo doll’s and chants. electricity. we’re making weird science ❞

𝒎𝒖ꜱ𝑇 𝒃ⲉ ℒ𝓞𝓥𝓔 𝑶𝑵 𝕿𝖍𝖊̳ ℬ𝓇͟⍶𝖎̲𝖓 ✶₊] 𝕿𝖍⍶t's 𝖌𝖔t ᴹ̲ᴱ̲ 𝑓𝓮𝓮𝔩𝙞̲𝖓𝖌 ᴛʜɪꜱ ฬ⍶𝔂

ᵂᴼᵁ̳ᴸ̳ᴰ   𝔂𝘰𝘶   [ 𝒃𝒖𝒓𝒚 ]   ᴹ̲ᴱ̲?̲ /

odette worked at bistro huddy, the place that stole the goddesses heart — and that lead her to have met benjamin poindexter.

the bistro is tugged into some quiet, strangely peaceful for hell's kitchen, corner of new york's rowdiest districts. it was popular due to the staff, the legendary food, but also due to the charming atmosphere. it was perfect.

though some might argue, matt murdock for example, that she did not fit into hells kitchen: being too kind and sweet in the opinions of the residents living there. odette always leans a helping hand if needed, feeds the stray animals living in the streets, and donates food and money to charity. it did not help that odette was quite shy and quite awkward, as if she does not know how to interact with people properly. but despite that she is quite charming, affectionate, and tender. she is known to be kind at all times: which does put her in an opposing disposition in hells kitchen with all the criminals that run around.

odette and bridgette where the quiet ones everyone protected. and coincedentally everyone's favorite waitresses, alongside nicole of course.

and how a socially awkward, stuttering over her own words, mess got a job at bistro huddy might confuse most people. it certainly did confuse new york's crime boss, wilson fisk, when he went to eat at the bistro at the recommendation of wesley.

james wesley may have been a man who was right about many things, but this had been the only time where fisk doubted his former right hand man.

odette had nearly spilled the drink he had ordered on his fine suit — he had stared at her so sternly, she nearly passed out. and on another occasion she had forgotten his order twice, if it were not for nicole she would've completely forgotten. then odette dared lecture him on the food.

he left a hefty tip because he had not been this amused by a waitress in a long time. and he visited the bistro from time to time, frequenting it with wesley, when he had still been alive. because odette had been bad at her job, but in a way that was sweet — she always struck conversations with the guests, talking more instead of serving. and the food was good, all was well. wilson fisk had not been the only one visiting bistro huddy, a certain group of lawyers that wanted nothing more than to see wilson fisk behind bars.

which occurred one day. and the trio went to eat at the bistro before taking off to sallie's.

one thing you should know about odette, she forms attachments. when she found out about the death of wesley, she had been distraught. he was evil, but a gentleman underneath it all. he had been her favorite customer, due to him tolerating her endless blabbering and her questions.

though she was superstitious of wilson fisk, her being all too aware of his evil deeds through her prophetic abilities, she supposed he had his nice qualities. he was easy to anger, yet he never yelled at her for making a mistake. how strange mortal men were.

when wilson fisk had been released from prison, he had only but one request that he voiced aloud to the fbi agents: that'd he'd be brought food from bistro huddy. so fbi agent, ray nadeem, made sure that simple, questionable, wish would come true, sent agent ℬ𝔢̲𝖓j𝐚m̲i𝖓 𝗣⌖i𝖓𝒅𝙚x𝑇𝙚𝓇͟ to retrieve the order fisk had stated.

benjamin, though he tried to argue against that, reluctantly did as he was told. and in heindsight it may have been the best decision he had yet made. while julie, a ghost from the past, being his obsession and north star, haunted his mind with every step he took — he found a new north star.

it all started out innocently.

with odette calmly insulting him for standing in her way. he had not seen her, he had been busy staring at everyone — to make sure there were no potentinal threats — present in the bistro. benjamin leaned against one of the empty table booths while it happened. then his attention snapped to a woman behind him, coughing, and staring him down. a waitress judging by what she wore. her blue eyes skimmed over him, and the slight quip of her lips evident. she seemed displeased.

she was small. brown hair elegantly curled to frame her face. yet her eyes, a cold blue, glared into his soul. if dex would've been able to read her eyes, he would've seen the glimpse of recognition that shot through them, but he did not see that. he only let out a startled sound and moved out of her way. he only saw her take in a deep breath before smiling at him.

"if you'd mind, could you move out of the way? today is a very busy day, and i've already spilled a drink. . ." she sighed. she took another look at him, squinting when she noticed the suit jacket. she licked her lips and tilted her head slightly. "takeaway or are you eating here?"

though before benjamin could reply someone else replied for him:

"takeaway!" amber, was her name amber, shouted from behind him. "for the guy who wore those fancy suits! the one that got imprisoned, you remember?"

"oh? oh! oh my, really?" suddenly she sounded excited.

but why would she sound excited over the fact he was getting food for a convicted criminal? he wondered.

she winked at him and then pushed past him to head into the direction of the kitchen. his gaze followed her for a reason he did not quite know. something about her was odd — though in the sense she was charming. dex replayed the moment in his head. again and again until she came back with the food that wilson fisk had ordered. he smiled at her when he accepted the plastic bag, noting that a sticky note reading: "from odette, much love," was stuck against the box containing the food.

so that was her name. . .

"do greet him from me. i packed something for you in there as well, for your way back."

"that is awfully kind of you, odette. I’m dex." he reached out his hand for her to shake, she gracefully accepted and shook hands with him. her hands were surprisingly warm.

“it’s nice to meet you, dex.” she simply smiled and turned around, walking to a table of customers she seemed familiar with.

and that interaction started benjamin poindexter's obsession with her. and that interaction started odette stern's obsession with him. a match made in hell, matt murdock would say.

with the help of the fantastic @unidentified-divinity , tysm scout for taking your time to read my draft🩷 ! tags ! @respectoughfully , @briiverse , @miainbetween , @deepinthegroves , @dizzydotcom , @sillygirlsalad , @wrensiastic , @tadaffied , @sireneptune , @ethearls , @miiholic , @grrrlsgogames , @lovlyrealities , @crackbaby999 , @yexbarnes , @emotionallyderanged , @fangdol , @unidentified-divinity , @battledovez , @rosebudshifter , @doe-eyed-shifter , @ashstwr

[inspecter]

MEET THE UNLUCKYS

These girls can't help it, can't they? Forget The Boys, forget the Seven, and be unlucky. If you want to be against the Supes, why have like three and become one? If you want to be heroes... Why aren't you acting like one? We're not better; we are worse and certainly worse, but we save people. The Unluckys are a lucky bunch of women and subvert tropes/stereotypes.

OLIVIA CAMPBELL JONES. A TICKING TIMEBOMB

Olivia Jones, also known as Timebomb to the public, is the leader of The Unluckys. She's reckless but useful; I mean, she's Homelander's ex-girlfriend who knew him since that fucking cage. Her parents are the Filipino mob, where she got the family business "Patay Kubo," a soup kitchen & bar. Her name explains her powers. controlling time & exploding stuff. She can break the fourth wall & reference other IPs, even the original source, and mock them how she likes, but she isn't any better..

ODRI PEVETS. SECOND-IN-HAND, TROUBLED DETECTIVE WITH A GUN IN HAND

Odri Pevets is not her real name; it got Audrey Hepburn & the word "singer" together. Odri is a Russian-German spy who was a night witch back in the days when Payback was payback, and she fucked the shit out of Gunpowder and got a vial of v1, which made her the beautiful woman she is now. Her parents were taken away from her by nazis since she was a Jew during a trip in France, so she planned to kill nazis for fun. Years later after World War 2, she worked for a drug cartel and was the exporter back in Colima, Mexico. Olivia discovered her by telling the cops. during a flight.

ELAINE THATCHER BROWN. FOXY BROWN

Elaine Thatcher Brown grew up in the south of the Bronx and became a prostitute in need of money since her family needed money. One night, a cartel got into the club and forced her to visit Mexico for a "job." She noticed a blonde woman. It was Odri, and she invited her to join The Unluckys for a mission in Mexico to beat that cartel's ass & also steal drug supply. Elaine got the nickname "Foxy" for how sly & attractive she was, and she and Odri frequently team up for stealth-related missions because if you mix their strengths together, it's fucking amazing.

JULIE DELANEY. SCIENTIST, former Vought worker

Julie Delaney isn't what you would call unlucky, but considering the company she used to work for... Julie was a scientist for Vought and successfully got vitals of Compound V for the Unluckys to test & for Olivia to shut up. Julie is a victim of capitalism, considering how much she collects stuff from the 1980s. Julie can create drugs if she wants to but there's enough supply with The Unluckys.

tag, you're it: @namiversee . @jollypawd . @rexsplooge . @eternallyaoleil .

[easyboyrecliner]

the ɓɼ𝖎̉𝖒́-ɦ𝖆̉𝖙̌𝖙̌𝖊̉ɗ witch ! the slıɔunoɔ princess ! the ๖it¢h of ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ ! the ʄǟʋօʀɨȶɛ NIS of ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴏʟʏ ʀᴏᴍᴀɴ ᴄʜᴜʀᴄʜ ! the mourn𝒾ng 𝓁a̲m̲b ! the ɼᴇᴅ wit¢h ! 𝓁𝒶𝒹𝓎 𝓈𝑒𝓃𝒶𝓉𝑜𝓇 of ᴛʜᴇ ɓɼ𝖎̉𝖒́-ɦ𝖆̉𝖙̌𝖙̌𝖊̉ɗ witches !

𝔩𝔞𝔯𝔲𝔱𝔞𝔫𝔯𝔢𝔭𝔲𝔰 est 2005. ࣪𖤐 tℎe wᵢₜc𝔥𝔢𝔰 𝖔𝐟 ťɦẻ c̶o̶u̶n̶c̶i̶l̶ ;; !

𓋹𓃠𓋹𓃠𓋹 . #VVITCH&FAE﹕… ࣪𖤐 , consume me.

half - mad , half - mistake

۪ ݁ WILHELMINA : MINX ݁ ۪ ୧ , a member of THE COUNCIL , she is but loyal to their cause given her parents, she herself , being proud members of THE COUNCIL — even having their own seats at the SENATE : though , momentarily, the minx sisters have been absent , as they were forced tasked to work at the OVERLOOK HOTEL ( a safe place for supernatural creatures — think hotel transylvania ). she is an ambitious witch , who , for the most part, conjures monsters made out of shadow & casts spells specializing in. . . anything. wilhelmina is powerful, but the author does not want to disclose on any details (sue me). the minx sisters bother a man called TIM for the most part , but he adores his two girls even if he pretends otherwise. she, wilhelmina, is known to most as the witch who dressed in RED SILKS is but a familiar sight to THE WINCHESTER BROTHERS but under a different guise. DEAN WINCHESTER refers to her as M&M (he also lovingly compares her to SALEM SABERHAGEN), something her sister, TELIA MINX , thinks is hilarious. which isn’t, but thank you.

tags ! @respectoughfully , @briiverse , @miainbetween , @deepinthegroves , @dizzydotcom , @sillygirlsalad , @wrensiastic , @tadaffied , @sireneptune , @ethearls , @miiholic , @grrrlsgogames , @lovlyrealities , @crackbaby999 , @yexbarnes , @emotionallyderanged , @fangdol , @unidentified-divinity

[easyboyrecliner]

the star employee of the house of hades !

mae /easyboyrecliner

the dark and lavishly appointed lair of the tumblr user’s home is just not them, but to their willful progeny.

an avid a song of ice and fire shifter ,

possessing two supernatural drs ,

a shared percy jackson dr ,

and few others .

welcome to the house of hades ! which section of the house do you wish to see ? click below !

ℳAE ℳAKTO.

𝒯HE ℋALLS 𝒪𝓕 𝓓ELIRIUM.

ℳUSE 𝓞𝓕 𝓐POLLON.

@easyboyrecliner :)

[easyboyrecliner]

new theme!!

[inspecter]

www.WWWIndustries/about-our-ceo

We at WWW Industries care about our inventions and our CEO, William Wayne Wilson, a child prodigy since our founder who was his wonderful father William Wayne Wilson I. ######### He cares about us in ways no one can (other than slavery, trafficking, and labor), and he would never do anything to us. WWW, we care first and foremost about him ourselves and this company.

WHAT'S RIGHT IS RIGHT

(tw/cw: gore, swearing, mention of sa, mention of slavery)

It's a dark, grim world out there, and the world is still not over in the midst of darkness in the clouds so high above, but in the midst of the darkness—there is no light right at the top, but… It was all a joke from the beginning, up to the point you don't know what's real in this piece of literature you're reading, or whether what I'm saying is real to you.

It's up to you to analyze me for your bullshit of entertainment instead of enjoying a handsome, charming businessman with an eye for entertainment that I rightfully sponsored for the sake of my own company. It's a dark world, but you don't know much about it; you have eyes to see but not to see much in this threatening world that you're in. Eyes may deceive you, and it's a key to the soul, but if it weren't for the soul, we would remain eyeless.

I'm not stalling you, I was just a curious fellow seeing your eyes immensely reading my words in this— You wait to the point where the story starts, if it weren't for my existence— Well, let's relish this world right now, waiting for this to end, and for the sake of art.

You Really Got Me by The Kinks played on the radio. "You know what I did to deserve this— I served the weapons for this country, the US of A," I said in disappointment and bothered by whoever these people are. "Well, they are afraid of you for fucks sake, Mr. Wilson." That random military woman answered, which wasn't supposed to be answered. I rolled my eyes in irritation and smacked my lips, then bit my lips out of arousal. "Wow, didn't know cats like you could meow like that… What's under that suit?" I tried to charm her, but she sped up the vehicle out of disappointment, rolling my eyes again. The man beside me was acting unprofessionally by repeatedly tapping my hand. "Mr. Wilson, can I take a quick photo with you?" he asked in sheer excitement. I let out a fake grin, spreading my lips into a soft, so-called amused chuckle. "Of course," I answered the man. He grinned back, his fingers forming a peace sign as he fished his phone out of his pocket. I positioned myself beside him, trying to put down the sign he made with his fingers by shaking his hands, the camera flashed between my eyes, and faded my smile in relief— I looked good-looking in that photo, between the flash straight to my eyes that wasn't bright enough that I could see.

He let out a sigh of sheer joy, warmth flooding his chest as he embraced the fleeting moment of pleasure. As was predictable, the tension in the air hinted that doom was approaching, and we were getting close to imploding, upfront and right on top. I could almost count down the seconds: 1, 2... It did as said— Kaboom. I was left standing right there in the view of the beautiful desert, gazing at the imploded version. I felt pain, but not that much; the soldiers died right in front of my eyes, blood that sheared so quickly as their deaths with guns held on their heads, shot right above their heads, filled with dread that left them for dead. The terrorist approached me with a firearm lifted in his hand, targeting my right eye, and shot me in the blind, a blindfold with no sight of my eyes.

An alleyway, US, New York, New York (+ 17-hour free flight, hijacked terrorist plane)

"Mr. W, you promised us some fucking weapons," the guy who I totally did not recognize said right in my one right eye. I softly chuckled in amusement, with a sheer grin taking over my mouth, and I pulled my arms up as a joke, laughing it up. "Well— WWW industries can't take both sides in this arrangement… Don't it? And I can't see yo—" I got interrupted during my joke by getting shot right in the right eye once more, which didn't seem quite right. "Shut the fuck up, you can't take both sides for the sake of success to your bitch ass company," he threatened me, insulting my company, and I grinned in amusement, smacking my lips. "For a group like youse, you certainly are a happy bunch… Kill the guy who gave you that, that, and that," I responded sarcastically, pointing to their weapons and gadgets, which were laughable to them but weren't. They shot me in the right eye again, making me lose even more blood than usual. I must say.

I felt my world getting darker through my eyes; it was like death was calling me from right up on top or down below from the circles of hell upon my existence, calling me from the void. I felt death rising and uplifting me straight from my eyes with the calling of the void uprising between my eyes, not knowing what was left upon me or right from what I dwell among the world. I wouldn't believe in Christ himself when he accepts heaven, or would he be upon my grave on the dark hill with no baptism, it was a limbo. I ate the forbidden fruit with carnal knowledge within women that I have dwelt with before and marked with lust, playing into the bargain. My life was filled with gluttony and was a waste of myself, materials, and over-consuming time with control disguised as selfishness. I was greedy throughout my entire life. Wealth was bestowed upon me when I was living on top, with fame engraved upon my name. I needed eyes to see me for what I was and had become, with recognition a true symbol of praise and money upon my name. My wrath was grave with rage, for no good reason at all, and hid it with a smile upon a smile of my face, you would look through my eyes and see rage upon it as if it were a key through my soul. I wouldn't believe in Christ, as said, but it was a hard-hitting truth, and if they called it truth, Jesus refused everything in the bible despite being born a god like I was. I was violent among people throughout my entire life. I would hit on women in bars, and I hit women back at home. I owned slaves and beat them when it was the right time, not working from what they were supposed to do for me… Fraud is what they call sticking with my name on the board and engraving it with their claws. I was standing on a frozen lake with dead bodies piling up, and the treachery of my guilt raised the bodies. Then it hit me, I felt something mutating my body, and they injected it with Compound V It felt like an accident that I deserved, and, reforming myself entirely, I was conscious. I twitched my middle finger, then my left eye blinked, and I had control of my hematic tissue. I moved my blood entirely, bringing me back to life, but I remain eyeless, and my right eye was popping off. I stood up independently, letting out a sigh in exhaustion. "Bonjour," I greeted them with a sly grin and was impressed by what I rightfully deserved. "You guys chose the V instead of completely murdering me— You guys are nice"

They forcefully put an eye patch straight on my right eye, making it tight, which nearly popped my eye. I let out a sigh in exhaustion with pure solemnity. Was I supposed to feel afraid of them? I lied, but wasn't that enough?. "Make an eye, you could feel right and take both sides," they threatened me. I rolled my eyes and stood up with my arms up to a rock. I noticed nitrate, charcoal, and sulfur. I began to make black powder for myself to make color straight in my eyes. As I made it, I got silica from the desert with sodium carbonate from the alcohol of those terrorists, stabilizer from chalk, and made glass so I could see through. I weighed and mixed the ingredients so I could see, and then heated them to 2,552°F, but don't do the math, making them molten. I began to shape it to the narrowness of my eyes, comparing it with the glass. I placed it on a soldering block to anneal it.

I attached it straight to my eyes and adjusted it, making a hiss right at my eye as I failed to connect it to my technology. The sparks licked my lashes; the prosthetic was a bit colder than I thought, sending a chill crawling across my skin and sending a shock to my jaw. I repeatedly winked when I was supposed to blink, but it didn't feel quite right, so I gave it up. It was alluring and charming, but lived annoyingly at best. I adjusted my dark hair so that it would not get stuck in my eye, my voice was gravelly and raspy, deep as always, and I stroked my light facial beard. Now you get my appearance, handsome, right in your imagination, just like you thought?

I turned around, seeing the terrorist looking right at me. They slowly began to let out a chuckle in amusement. When it wasn't supposed to be funny, my grin slowly faded away as I was proud of what I made when being held hostage for the sake of art. "You gonna let me out or not?" I command them since it wasn't a joke with sheer callousness & ire, crossing my arms, I carefully poured the corrosive fine black powder I had meticulously crafted watching as it glistened like tiny obsidian shards, each grain reflecting a hint of light as it flowed smoothly from my fingertips right inside my firearm, my fingers trembling, pointing it at their left eye. "Is there anything left?" one of them began to laugh nervously at my ultimatum. One of them laughed, too fast, his eyes flicking to the alley’s end like he hoped for an escape I didn’t intend to give. His mouth opened up, and I slammed the firearm inside his mouth, making him bleed, and I began to flee away from the terrorist scene. You think I deserve that?

tag, you're it: @namiversee . @jollypawd . @rexsplooge . @eternallyaoleil .

I have my own fanseries based on the boys called Hand To God based on my The Boys dr, It's genuinely one of my best and William is my favorite psychotic white boy I have ever written. His playlist is a fucking banger.

[inspecter]

ΤΟ ΠΑΙΔΙ, ΤΟ ΦΩΣ, ΤΟ ΜΗΛΟ, ΤΟ ΠΑΙΔΙ ΠΟΥ ΟΝΟΜΑΖΕΤΑΙ ΙΡΙΣ

Day 1.

Interning at the Daily Planet. Hope all is well for me, and I get to be a journalist right in this building. I immediately knew Clark was Superman; it was obvious... I mean, how the hell did people not know it? I recently reread The Odyssey, and the herd of Helios's cattle intrigued me. It's quite small for the story for me personally, but it has always intrigued me.

Helios is the god of the Sun, said to have had seven herds of oxen and seven flocks of sheep, each numbering fifty head. The cattle were guarded by Helios's daughters, Phaëthusa and Lampetië, and it was known by all that any harm to any single animal was sure to bring down the wrath of the god.

When Odysseus goes up the island to pray to the gods and ask for extra help, Eurylochus convinces the crew to drive off the best of the cattle of Helios and sacrifice them to the gods: "If he be somewhat wroth for his cattle with straight horns, and is fain to wreck our ship, and the other gods follow his desire, rather with one gulp at the wave would I cast my life away, than be slowly straitened to death in a desert isle." When he returns to the ship, Odysseus rebukes his companions for disobeying his orders. It was too late; the cattle were gone.

Lampetië tells Helios that Odysseus's men have slain his cattle. In turn, Helios orders the gods to take vengeance on Odysseus's men. He threatens that if they do not pay him full atonement for the cattle, he will take the sun to the Underworld and shine it among the dead.

It's quite interesting; I saw myself as both Apollo & Helios. I shine bright as the sun, and I'm a journalist, so I find & write about the truth. And yet, I don't know much about my own truth. My father is a mad inventor; my mother is well-known; I, myself & I aren't quite known. Truth be told, I'm speaking nonsense in this diary. It's unbelievable. I gather the truth; I am not quite the truth. All this talking can't be from me.

Day 2.

Heard about some "reformed" criminal who can stretch? It's unbelievable, and I attempted to interview him the other day after he stopped a heist in a bank. He flirted with me and asked me out; what a dick. If I were to date a man like him, it would be false.

Perry was shocked that I corrected his grammar. Who & whom is easy, especially for an editor-in-chief. I have no idea why I am so mean today. So, I look at my reflection... It's actuality, and the brightness is appealing, and normally, I would look good in the mirrors and say nothing, but I feel like my own reflection is saying I'm too mean... Am I going insane?

Day 3.

The morning sun rises... Is there a god or a sacrificial lamb? I think I have a big scoop. Perry would be happy for me despite my being an intern, and it's about my father and a cult called Synod, which started in the 1920s in Gotham and successfully rose in Metropolis, making some "new god." Well, I wouldn't believe that... Thomas, my father, has been connected with this cult with my mother, ########, who faked her death for the sake of abandoning me! I mean, that's insane! WHY ME?! Oh lord, I may perish.

If I can? Can I? I'm not a god; I would never be a god... I'm going to solve it and stop it as I can... I don't deserve this; I don't deserve myself. Anyone beyond the universe could hear me but not believe me. This is a bad ending, and this isn't something new for the universe.

My father may be the one who runs, but not the one in heaven or hell. I'm the only one who dies between the fires of hell and acts like it's heaven. The truth abashes me, and it's not for the stars.

Day 4.

I'm not the solution. I want to be free. I persist despite the expectations. I do not have the right mind. I am not one above all. I'm just the mind without a heart and no one to hold. I am one of the others who try hard to shine as it is; it's a new end for me down here.

Day 5.

I SAW IT! I SAW IT! OH WHAT A DAY IT HAS BEEN. THE BODIES THAT CAME AMONGST IT ARE UNBELIEVABLE. IT GOES BEYOND... Dear god, n-

Hours later... I called Perry to say that I'm taking a two-week break and I feel sick, plus I have an interview with that unbearable criminal soon. I feel unwell... I don't believe it came to me; it didn't approach me. It saw me as a vessel for me to be a god. I am nothing, yet I am everything.

Day 6.

Adiuva me hoc. Hoc scripsi ut aliquid semel sentiat, impossibile tamen est me aliquid omnino sentire. Methodus animorum meorum imperceptibilis est, et me ipsum non video. Hoc dolet; Nihil mihi sentio, et cras sum ut sol lucet, sed intus tenebrosus est.

Ave atque vale.

tag, you're it: @namiversee . @jollypawd . @rexsplooge . @eternallyaoleil .

(not a draft for once, also I cooked with this, but also slightly disappointed)

[orasdiarie]

Delusional (woo woo) is an egoic concept.

loa bitches using the term "woo woo" to describe "delusional" shit will always amaze me. like wow, baby. u made $900k come out of thin air, you revised a sickness with no medical or logical explanation for it outside of the fact that you just assumed it gone, but you're afraid of covering appearance manifestation stories because you don't wanna get into "woo woo" territory? i'm sorry? i'm afraid its too late mama

let's preach that we're god while holding onto the human/ego's limits and concepts to contradict ourselves daily. how does that work?

when "everything is possible" becomes "let's not get delusional..." the moment someone puts belt to ass about their abilities as god.

when it aint just manifesting a job and someone talks about death revision or supernatural shit, suddenly nobody stands by their beliefs, if they actually were their beliefs.

y'all with it or nah? door's that way.

[bellyshifts]

i didnt know that people like this still existed but if youre not woke get off my page. if you are open minded enough to comprehend the infinite realities we can experience as shifters but draw the line at black lives matter and trans rights get away from me.

[inspecter]

DAENERYS "DANY" # ####### / @ daendaniel

twitch streamer & youtuber. apparently a comedian. a dropout. one of the crudest and blunt streamers. Improviser who can't think of anyone . damn daniel.

tag, you're it: @namiversee . @jollypawd . @rexsplooge . @eternallyaoleil .

[inspecter]

LOADING... HOLLYWOOD ARTS

SUCCESS !

Daenerys Mendoza or what people call Dany is a Filipino-American from Los Angeles, California. She was born on August 27, 1993. She's a future screenwriter, journalist, songwriter, and actress. I mean a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do for her future. She writes for the paper of Hollywood Arts and currently trying to get her scripts produced.

You can see her writings & songs on the SLAP. Down here ↓

www.TheSlap.com/profile/XXXDstar

ㅤ. . ׅ. 𝄂𝄚𝅦𝄚𝄞𝅄ㅤ NOW PLAYING WHY DO YOU LET ME STAY HERE? BY SHE & HIM

Her lovers or high school sweethearts as the oldies say. Hollywood Arts is the place for it apparently, if you're in Tori's circle (sorry not sorry, Tori).

THIS IS ROBARAZZI STARRING ROBBIE SHAPIRO !

. . ׅ. 𝄂𝄚𝅦𝄚𝄞𝅄ㅤ NOW PLAYING BUDDY HOLY BY WEEZER (insert riff hah lmao)

If you want a man who plays guitar & sings well and has an unbearable puppet... He's the man for you. Dany and Robbie met via Hollywood Arts (of course) by bumping into each other, not in a meet-cute, romantic way, but in a "It's your fault that you didn't look your way" way. He apologized first, of course.

But they were friends to lovers and Rex still lives on as their "third".

THE SCHWARTZ HOUR HOSTED BY BEN SCHWARTZ

. . ׅ. 𝄂𝄚𝅦𝄚𝄞𝅄ㅤ NOW PLAYING SURE SHOT BY BEASTIE BOYS

A comedian, and a radio host. He hosts a local radio show called The Schwartz Hour, which doesn't even last an hour (it's good marketing, at least). He was born in September 15 1993. They met as two students of Hollywood Arts and got into the same office for different purposes (one for writing, one to host) in the school, that also caused an argument.

Their dynamic was frenemies to lovers, they still "hate" each other to this day despite sharing the same office.

tag, you're it: @namiversee . @rexsplooge . @eternallyaoleil .

[inspecter]

PROJECT GENESIS. CLASSIFIED

day 1.

As Jesus said in Genesis 1:3 "Let there be light", there is a constant dim around the universe and Metropolis follows the light while Gotham follows the dark―yet the dark needs some light to shine. The light may seem ambiguous but I gathered a particle called Genesis which was made during the Big Bang of this universe, we have found our god and she's the light that holds the truth for our existence.

Superman is a symbol of hope... But hope doesn't mean truth, because hope is the nuanced version of the truth; it may shine a light, but not much. He was sent by the Kryptonians while ours will be sent by a genius. Ours will be a genius, may try to put a stop to all this but there isn't an end. The light shines bright, no one sees what will be. I have never been this excited for a shinning star that goes beyond.

day 2.

Initiation and analysis.

The Genesis Particle is pre-matter, not matter. While standard atoms formed roughly 380,000 years after the Big Bang, the Genesis Particle consists of the primordial "soup" that existed nanoseconds after the event.

Base State: The GP does not possess a standard atomic number, it precedes the periodic table. It exists as a Singularity of Superstrings. In a resting state, the particle vibrates at a frequency that is out of phase with standard spacetime, rendering it massless and invisible to conventional sensors.

The "Rough Draft" Material: Composed of Raw Hadronic Matter and Inert Chronons.

Mass-Matter Manipulation: The ability to rewrite atomic structures.

Temporal Stasis: The particle exists in a constant state of "becoming," allowing it to bypass standard laws of entropy.

Energy Signature: Emits a high-frequency neutrino radiation that registers on the electromagnetic spectrum as "white noise" or pure, unfiltered light.

II. Experimental Protocol: Interaction with Silica

Objective: To observe how the Genesis Particle initiates contact with a rigid, amorphous structure Standard Soda-Lime Glass, and whether the particle imposes order of truth or entropy.

Subject Material: 1x Cube of Standard Soda-Lime Glass (SiO₂). Dimensions: 5cm x 5cm x 5cm.

Catalyst: 1 Nanogram of suspended Genesis Particle, contained within a magnetic field.

II.

the GP resonates with it. The GP scans the structural lattice of the silica. Glass is a supercooled liquid. It detects the imperfection in the glass’s atomic arrangement. The gap between the silicon and oxygen atoms is filled with empty space. It's a universal interrogater.

The GP initiates a Quantum Tunneling effect, effectively dragging the atomic nucleus of the glass elements closer together. The GP floods the glass with photonic energy. This excites the electron clouds to a higher plane of existence. The chaotic "liquid" structure of the glass is forcibly organized. The GP eliminates the empty space between atoms. The silicon dioxide (SiO₂) is stripped of its impurities (calcium, sodium). The GP compresses the remaining silica into a crystalline hyper-lattice—a theoretical state of diamond-hard transparency.

The transformation takes approximately 0.0043 seconds. The cube turns from a translucent, cloudy green to a state of absolute, water-clear clarity. It begins to emit a low-level hum. The refractive index of the glass drops to near zero (1.00004). It travels faster through the glass than it does through the air. The glass has become "True Glass." It is now mathematically perfect. It reflects reality without distortion.

The Genesis Particle perfects it. When applied to the glass (SiO₂), the particle identified the "lie" of the material's chaotic structure and corrected it. The resulting object is no longer glass; it is a Solid Photon Conductor

WARNING: Prolonged exposure leads to Molecular Brittleness. While the glass became perfect, it also lost its flexibility. It became too hard, too bright. Without the variable to dampen the effects.

day 3.

As the light shines in the morning. The frequency emitted by the sun, I know it. Genesis is our light. The lord is my light and my salvation—whom shall I fear? When the morning comes, I'll see it right before the making of our shepherd who shall be heard until the new incarnation. Protect the dark, save the truth, may the light shine between the stars and emancipate us from this hell.

day 4.

When the truth comes out of my own mouth, everyone knows that my solution for this world, which I believe can benefit our people, may not be accessible to them. Cause I’m the right one for this divine intervention, if anyone sees the brilliance of my brilliant mind, we will transmit to a new beginning.

I'll say that to my child who has radiance amongst others.

day 5.

I have found victims scientists to help me with this. The light upholds them. May god save us all.

day 6.

Greek is a language that started with poetry & philosophy. I made this about the truth, my daughter.

Ευλογημένο το φως· η αλήθεια, κόρη μου

Για τα θύματα του Project Genesis, ας ζωντανέψει ο θάνατος για τη γυναίκα του φωτός· αυτή κατέχει τον ήλιο από τον άλλο κόσμο και παντού όπου κοιτάς. Την βλέπεις στη φύση, την βλέπεις από τα σύννεφα, την βλέπεις την ώρα που η κυρία λάμπει στα μάτια σου.

Ευλογημένο το φως που λάμπει, αλλά έρχεται και φεύγει προς το αύριο. Η ακτινοβολία του είναι η υπόθεση, τα λόγια της είναι η θέση, και οι δυνάμεις της είναι η λύση για όλα όσα έρχονται μετά τη Μεγάλη Έκρηξη. Θα μπορούσε να λύσει τον κόσμο για ό,τι έρχεται μέχρι το τέλος· αν τον τερματίσει, τι θα συλλογιστεί ο κόσμος ανάμεσα στην αυγή και το σκοτάδι; Θα δείτε τον τάφο της στο σκοτάδι, αλλά εκεί πέρα θα είναι η μέρα που θα επιστρέψει· ο κόσμος θα ακτινοβολεί στο φως της που έρχεται πάνω στη φωτεινότητά της στο σύμπαν.

tag, you're it: @namiversee . @jollypawd . @delicatelullaby . @rexsplooge . @eternallyaoleil .