#Apple Africa Now

[dpunkster]

The Future Is Now Album: Finally here!

[ghanaplug]

Apple Music’s Africa Now Radio Features TitoM and Yuppe

This Week’s Episode Features a Conversation With TitoM and Yuppe the 5 Hottest Tracks of the Week, Africa Rising and Nandi Madida’s Favourite Track of the Week! Cover Star Interview South African amapiano producers TitoM and Yuppe join Nandi Madida via FaceTime on Apple Music 1 to talk about their viral hit, “Tshwala Bam (feat. S.N.E & EeQue).” They also discuss their beginnings in music—and what…

[batboyblog]

Things Biden and the Democrats did, this week #19

May 17-24 2024

President Biden wiped out the student loan debt of 160,000 more Americans. This debt cancellation of 7.7 billion dollars brings the total student loan debt relieved by the Biden Administration to $167 billion. The Administration has canceled student loan debt for 4.75 million Americans so far. The 160,000 borrowers forgiven this week owned an average of $35,000 each and are now debt free. The Administration announced plans last month to bring debt forgiveness to 30 million Americans with student loans coming this fall.

The Department of Justice announced it is suing Ticketmaster for being a monopoly. DoJ is suing Ticketmaster and its parent company Live Nation for monopolistic practices. Ticketmaster controls 70% of the live show ticket market leading to skyrocketing prices, hidden fees and last minute cancellation. The Justice Department is seeking to break up Live Nation and help bring competition back into the market. This is one of a number of monopoly law suits brought by the Biden administration against Apple in March and Amazon in September 2023.

The EPA announced $225 million in new funding to improve drinking and wastewater for tribal communities. The money will go to tribes in the mainland US as well as Alaska Native Villages. It'll help with testing for forever chemicals, and replacing of lead pipes as well as sustainability projects.

The EPA announced $300 million in grants to clean up former industrial sites. Known as "Brownfield" sites these former industrial sites are to be cleaned and redeveloped into community assets. The money will fund 200 projects across 178 communities. One such project will transform a former oil station in Philadelphia’s Kingsessing neighborhood, currently polluted with lead and other toxins into a waterfront bike trail.

The Department of Agriculture announced a historic expansion of its program to feed low income kids over the summer holidays. Since the 1960s the SUN Meals have served in person meals at schools and community centers during the summer holidays to low income children. This Year the Biden administration is rolling out SUN Bucks, a $120 per child grocery benefit. This benefit has been rejected by many Republican governors but in the states that will take part 21 million kids will benefit. Last year the Biden administration introduced SUN Meals To-Go, offering pick-up and delivery options expanding SUN's reach into rural communities. These expansions are part of the Biden administration's plan to end hunger and reduce diet-related disease by 2030.

Vice-President Harris builds on her work in Africa to announce a plan to give 80% of Africa internet access by 2030, up from just 40% today. This push builds off efforts Harris has spearheaded since her trip to Africa in 2023, including $7 billion in climate adaptation, resilience, and mitigation, and $1 billion to empower women. The public-private partnership between the African Development Bank Group and Mastercard plans to bring internet access to 3 million farmers in Kenya, Tanzania, and Nigeria, before expanding to Uganda, Ethiopia, and Ghana, and then the rest of the continent, bring internet to 100 million people and businesses over the next 10 years. This is together with the work of Partnership for Digital Access in Africa which is hoping to bring internet access to 80% of Africans by 2030, up from 40% now, and just 30% of women on the continent. The Vice-President also announced $1 billion for the Women in the Digital Economy Fund to assure women in Africa have meaningful access to the internet and its economic opportunities.

The Senate approved Seth Aframe to be a Judge on the US Court of Appeals for the First Circuit, it also approved Krissa Lanham, and Angela Martinez to district Judgeships in Arizona, as well as Dena Coggins to a district court seat in California. Bring the total number of judges appointed by President Biden to 201. Biden's Judges have been historically diverse. 64% of them are women and 62% of them are people of color. President Biden has appointed more black women to federal judgeships, more Hispanic judges and more Asian American judges and more LGBT judges than any other President, including Obama's full 8 years in office. President Biden has also focused on backgrounds appointing a record breaking number of former public defenders to judgeships, as well as labor and civil rights lawyers.

[markscherz]

Exciting news: my podcast is back!

In 2018, Gabriel Ugueto (well known palaeo-artist and former herpetologist), Ethan Kocak (New York Times best-selling cartoonist and herpetoculturist), and I (a talkative herpetologist) decided that the world needed a herpetology-focused podcast that featured the latest big news in herpetological research, and took some deep, jargon-heavy dives into the nitty gritty of it all. So we started the SquaMates podcast.

We had a great deal of fun making the podcast, but in the wake of the panini, we struggled to find time for the show and coordinate recording schedules, and the show had to go on hiatus.

But now, after nearly two and a half years, we're back, and I venture to say we're better than ever! Hiral Naik, a snake ecologist from South Africa, has now joined us as a permanent co-host. Moreover, we're now recording and releasing the show in video on YouTube, as well as over normal podcast streams!

Episode 22 will drop on YouTube and podcast apps on Monday 12 February at 10:00 EST, 16:00 CET!

You can listen to the backlog at squamatespod.com, or on apple podcasts and other podcast apps.

I hope you enjoy the show!

[wiliowisp]

Heatwave ❦

Word Count ➻ 2.5k

Pairings ➻ Sebastian Sallow x fem!MC

Warnings ➻ NSFW 18+ ONLY

Tags ➻ third person POV, smut, face-sitting, giving head, penetration, sub!sebastian, aged up characters, married characters

A/N ➻ every day i fight for my place in heaven. this is the first smut ive ever written in my many adult years of life and also possibly the easiest thing ive written. funny that. hopefully u wonderful, sinful lot will enjoy <3

୧ send me prompts! i may write them! ���

Summary:

A heatwave has descended upon Sebastian and MC's happily married life. The warmth unties the strings of restraint and allows, often hidden, layers to be peeled away...

The heat of the August sun bore through the windows of their home like thick honey, making everything stick. She sat at the table, hands melting into the wood, a cup of water sweating in front of her. England had not known heat like this in years; the Daily Prophet had warned of winds carrying hot air from Africa but she didn’t think that it would swell the atmosphere the way it had.

Over the last few days, she had steadily reduced the layers of clothing that she normally donned. The corset went first; stuffy, abysmal thing. Then the petticoat, three layers under a skirt was simply too much. The chemise got traded out for the more contemporary brassiere, a thin lacy thing that was all but transparent under the sheen of sweat that she’d been drenched in these past few days. Her skirts got shorter and her patience thinner. She wanted to wring herself out like a towel.

Luckily, the only person who had seen her in such a state of impropriety was her husband and school sweetheart, Sebastian Sallow. They had been confined to their remote cottage in the highlands, sweating their souls away as the sun reaped across the country. Sebastian wasn’t bothered by her state of undress, they’d been married for almost five years and together for much longer—he had seen her in much more vulnerable states.

However, she had noticed his growing restlessness of late. They scarcely touched due to the heat; where they would usually be wrapped around each other in bed, they erected a boundary in the centre of it, loathe to touch each other’s skin and boil in the scorching nighttime fever. Now, she had developed a bronze tint to her skin, all the way down to her legs, her face flush with a sunny glow. Sebastian’s eyes had noticed this. He had noticed the layers slowly peel away, and the way the fabric stuck to her flesh, lathed along it like a tongue. 

The tension was thick in the air like rope. Sebastian did nothing to pursue her though, either by the heat sapping him of his virility or simply some form of chivalry. The rope tightened.

She had noticed him too of course—that was her husband after all. He was shirtless most days, a tan settling into his chest like varnish on a prized painting. His freckles darkened, set alight like sparks on his skin, the tone he had built from his career as a curse-breaker brought out in the daylight. A god cut in the stone.

When he entered the room, then, clad in a white cotton shirt, she was almost disappointed. He strode over to the sink, pouring himself his own water, and chugging it. His throat bobbed, adam’s apple prominent as the liquid ran down his chin and neck.

“I don’t think I can take another day of this,” he gasped.

“It’s not supposed to last much longer—we can go for another swim in the lake today?” she offered.

Sebastian took his wife in, his eyes dragging across her sweat-slick collarbones and jaw. “Maybe.”

The rope tightened. 

He put down his glass and the sound seemed to shake the foundations. His eyes did not leave her. After what seemed like a fraught but quick internal battle, he stepped over to her, hand sliding along her shoulders. His fingers slipped the shoulder off her loose blouse, revealing more of her glowing skin. His breath stuttered. Then, Sebastian leant over, ghosting his lips over her clavicle, tasting salt on the tongue, as he kissed a trail up to her throat.

“You don’t know…how difficult it has been,” he whispered, “to keep my hands off you.”

She tilted her head, offering her neck to him, as his kisses got sloppier, more desperate. He used his hand to force her eyes upon him and she knew that look instantly.

It’s not often Sebastian gets like this. Sex usually had him taking the lead, it was hot, heady and banal—as she liked it. Sometimes, though, Sebastian would get this glazed look in his eyes, when his desperation had mounted to a point he no longer knew what to do with himself. Most times, he was a half-full cup, the empty half allowed him some sense and reason, and he was able to control his desires. When left too long, his cup became full, there was no room for anything else except wild, desperate want. 

Right now, that need was etched into his expression. Sebastian’s eyebrows were pinched in a silent plea and his eyes were glassy; once he had started he no longer knew how to contain the water in his cup. The heedless want that pulsed through his senses until all they could perceive was her.

She maintained her composure. There was a delicacy to moments like these.

“Why is that?”

A frantic half-whine escaped his throat. “Because—because you’ve been practically naked in front of me all week and I—Merlin it’s so hot,” he was exasperated and whiny, and words failed him at times like these. Which made it all the more fun.

“What do you want, love?”

Sebastian’s eyes flickered between hers, he swallowed dryly. “So many things.”

His wife rose from her chair, levelling herself against him, bringing their faces closer. It’s not often Sebastian gets like this. But it’s so fun when he does.

She slipped her fingers under his shirt, running them up his flushed skin and around his waist. She pulled him closer, pressing his front to hers. He bit back a moan as the pressure met his hardening cock.

“Use your words, Seb,” she goaded, breath dancing across his cheeks.

He swallowed around nothing again. “I want your mouth on me.”

She surged forward, capturing his lips between hers. He responded immediately, an airy groan leaving his teeth as he gripped her hips and parted his mouth. She slid her tongue along the inseam of his lips, teasing him. Sebastian backed her into the table, arching her back slightly as he devoured her lips. Hunger stalked his every movement, his hips rutting into hers mindlessly as his hand cupped her jaw, tilting her head so he could kiss her more deeply, lose himself more entirely.

She pushed him away. “You wanted my mouth there?” she asked innocently.

He tried to kiss her again, but she dodged. He tried again. She dodged. Sebastian’s head slumped into her shoulder.

“Please,” he whined.

“Please, what?”

“Please put your mouth on my cock,” he begged her, pressing more wet kisses into her collarbone.

His wife grinned, trying to bite back the smile and regain composure. “Maybe,” she mused, “come with me.”

Sebastian was led easily, trailing behind her like a puppy in a way that warmed her abdomen. The heat persisted, whilst the sweat had her baby hairs sticking to her hairline, as well as Sebastian’s chestnut curls going slick around his ears. But a new fever had started to pool low in her gut, one that begged for satiation.

Now in the bedroom, she wasted no time ridding Sebastian of his shirt, peeling it off him as it clung to the perspiration. He kept trying to kiss her as she did so, which she swatted away while he petulantly whined. To shut him up, she ducked and licked a stripe up one of his nipples.

“Aah—!”

Then she licked the moan right out of his mouth. They kissed sloppily once more, Sebastian’s hunger disarming him of any prowess as his hands roved desperately over her clothed figure. When he was like this, Sebastian became putty in her hands. Despite her smaller stature, she manoeuvred them to the bed, separating their lips with a wet sound and pushing him onto his back. 

He fixed his gaze on her. Leveraging his raptured attention, she reached under her skirt and slipped out of her underwear, watching as his eyes followed the lacy material when she dropped it to the floor. He was panting. 

She climbed atop him, kissing him once more, before levelling her gaze with his. “First, you’re going to use your mouth on me, then maybe we’ll see about you.”

Sebastian readily nodded, swallowing thickly. “Yes, yes please,” he panted.

His wife smiled, something softer, fonder, before her expression settled back into her role. She shuffled up his body, Sebastian’s hands already greedily grabbing the meat of her thighs from under her skirt, dragging her towards his eager mouth.

Before even settling, he began, dragging a long stroke of his tongue across her cunt, a throaty moan leaving him as he tastes the sweetness coming out of her core. Like sugar. Sebastian forcefully urged her to settle more of her weight on him, wanting to feel her pressing against his nose. The last vestiges of sense in him commented how dying like this would probably be the best way to go ever. His wife sat, with a strangled moan, as his mouth sucked around the bundle of nerves that set her alight.

Obscene, wet sounds filled the room as Sebastian ate her like a man starved, coupled with the mingled moans of himself and his wife, her hips rocking back and forth against his tongue. The pool in her abdomen had now grown into a tidal wave that surged, pulsed. It’s crest rearing.

“Oh, fuck Sebastian,” she purred.

Spurred by his wife’s pleasure, Sebastian reached a hand towards his throbbing cock, palming it through his trousers, unable to help himself.

“You’re doing so good,” she rasped, “love, keep going.”

Sebastian rubbed the tip of his tongue against that sweet spot in tandem with the movements of his hand, shameful whines leaving his throat. His wife keened, her lithe body arching, head thrown back, a guttural moan leaving her throat as she came. Sebastian moaned in tandem, running the flat of his tongue across the seam of her cunt, feeling her pulse around him.

She panted—breath leaving her lungs like sap—and rolled off of her husband.

“C’mere,” she breathed.

Sebastian obeyed. She took his mouth into hers, eagerly licking the remains of her pleasure from him, savouring the wet slide of their lips. He was all but inconsolable at this point, wet patch at the front of his trousers, dick still painfully hard in its confines.

“Please,” he mewled, devouring the air of his lover.

She obliged him, taking charge once more, crawling over his supine body to suck bruises into his neck. Sebastian clutched her, a whimpering mess at the victim of his wife’s whims. Slowly, her mouth carved a path down his body, leaving wet kisses over his chest and nipples, before following the trail of hair at his sternum.

She undid the buttons on his trousers, shucking them over his waist and taking his cock in hand. Sebastian breathed heavily, watching her with undivided focus. She opened her mouth, sliding her tongue up the length of him, to his wet tip. Sebastian’s head thumped back onto the bed, a wanton moan escaping his throat. She licked him a few times more, savouring the salty taste of his skin, before swallowing him.

Sebastian’s hands flew to her scalp, gripping her hair, urging her mouth deeper. She began slow, tantalisingly dragging her mouth up and down his length, before bobbing in earnest. Sebastian’s resolve fissured as his hips met her movements, thrusting into the heat of her mouth. Stuttered whimpers left him, punctuating the movement of his hips. His throat was dry from the heat and how his pleasure worked his voice raw but in the wet cavern of his wife’s mouth he found it difficult to care.

His climax reared, any stamina drained from him after the restraint he displayed the past days, now completely abandoned.

“Ah, love—so good—m’ gonna—”

Before he could even utter the words, his wife pulled off his cock with a wet pop. Sebastian’s brows furrowed.

Quickly, she began pulling her sweat-soaked blouse from her body. Sebastian got the idea. He sat up, helping her out of her clothes. They kissed desperately in-between, his wife’s inhibitions being held together by a thread, as she hastily undressed.

Now naked, Sebastian couldn’t help but admire her, his own lust shelved momentarily while he worshipped the divine figure he was somehow married to.

“You’ll have time for that later, love,” she teased, “now sit back against the pillows.”

He situated himself at the head of the bed, cock wet and red against his stomach. His wife climbed atop him, hovering over his length. She took him in hand, lining them up, before sinking down.

They moaned in tandem, his hands gripping her waist like a lifeline while he fought off his climax right there and then.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” she breathed.

Sebastian replied with a broken moan, the tight heat of his lover distracting him from all sensations other than that rapture. Then she started moving.

Slow tentative rolls of her hips that undid Sebastian like a bow. He groaned, latching his mouth to her throat and leaving searing bruises. His wife clutched his head to her, her pace on his cock increasing with each roll. He wanted his hands everywhere. He wanted his mouth everywhere. Having to settle for the bud of her nipple, causing his lover to cry out in pleasure.

He started rutting his hips back into her, chasing the crest of pleasure he’d denied himself for so long. Losing all sense, losing all reason. 

“Please—ah—please, I’m so close,” he keened.

His wife only increased her pace, all but bouncing on his length, torturing him divinely. More staccato whimpers left his abused throat, not caring how undignified he sounded. He was so close.

Sebastian sealed their lips, stiffened, and came. His release pulsed out of him, come seeping into his wife’s core as he groaned into her mouth. His dick throbbed, climax milking all his frustration dry, letting it drain him. When their mouths separated, he pulled her onto his chest and panted.

They remained like that for some time, his softening member seated inside her while they regained their breath. She placed a kiss on his chest and carefully pulled him out, before rolling next to him.

Finally able to think, Sebastian took in the sight of his wife, haloed in post-coital bliss. Sweat coated every inch of her skin, making her shine under the daylight. He reached a hand out to stroke across her cheek, his fingers coming away sticky.

“Better?” she asked.

“Better.”

A thunderclap broke their reverie. They turned to the window, finding the scene beyond submerged in a grey cloak. His wife crawled off the bed and stalked to the window, he got up to follow. Sure enough, as they peered through the threshold, a thick cover of rain descended over the highlands, coating everything in a petrichor hush.

“Well, would you look at that,” Sebastian remarked, “I think we broke the heatwave.”

She giggled, a sound like birdsong, and overcome with affection he bent down and kissed her by the open window, the cool air caressing their hot skin. 

“I think we did.”

[charliesangel67]

Midnight Literature Conversations

Authors Note- If this reaches 100 likes, I'll make a part 2

⚠️ Warnings: Nothing! Pure fluff 😊 English is not my first language so please do not hesitate to let me know if I have any grammar faults.

Pairings- Bucky Barnes x Fem reader

Word Count: 460

Twisting and turning in bed for hours on end had finally convinced me that I wouldn't be getting any sleep tonight. So I decided to go down to the compound kitchen and bake. Baking was my comfort. I always baked a heartfelt banana cake or made a bunch of chocolate chip muffins when I was down.

Reluctantly getting out of bed and putting on my gown, I trudged out of my room, down the hallway to the kitchen. Turning on the dimmed lights, I spotted a figure sitting at the island counter. Upon closer inspection, and rubbing away the sleep from my eyes. I realised it was Bucky.

He had never talked to me. And I had never talked to him either. Steve always told me that he would speak up when he was ready, but since it had been over a month that Bucky had moved into the compound, I just assumed he hated me.

Without another word. I grabbed the milk, eggs and butter from the fridge, setting them down on the table. Along with the flour, apples and cinnamon. Taking my phone out of my pocket, I quickly googled an apple and cinnamon muffin recipe.

Every now and then, I caught Bucky looking up from his book, and eyeing me as I was mixing the ingredients, and making the batter. Eventually, I put the muffins in the oven to bake and sat down next to him.

“What book are you reading?” I spoke up, in a whisper.

“The Hobbit” He replied with a blank expression.

“You into the classics, huh” I said, surprised at his choice of literature.

“I read it when it first came out, in 1937. But it wasn't available in Brooklyn, where I'm originally from. So I had it imported from Cape Town in South Africa. And I managed to get one of the first 100 signed copies.” He responded enthusiastically.

“Wow. So you really like reading.” I added, not expecting the ex super soldier to be so talkative. Especially towards me.

“Yeah. It's my comfort thing. When I have nightmares or if I just want to shut the world out. I read.”

Suddenly leaping up from my seat next to Bucky. I walked over to the oven to take the muffins out. Placing the hot tray on the table, I grabbed a plate from the draw and placed a muffin on it. Sliding the plate over to Bucky.

“You should try it. It might be a bit hot but I'm sure you'll like it. The others love my baking. Especially Sam, He seems to really love my Chocolate Scrolls” I laughed off as I walked back to my room. Looking back for only a second to catch the super soldier smiling back at me.

Read pt 2 here

[hazyange1s]

HL Characters’ Tricks and Treats

It’s my favorite day of the year so before I go and fall into a candy/cocktail coma tonight… here’s a few ridiculous headcanons about the HL characters on Halloween 👻

Sebastian

Dresses up as something scary/clever/historical like a character from a horror novel. Definitely uses magic with his costume to make it more realistic (is that actual blood?!)

Would DIE for a haunted house. He’s the one laughing and having the time of his life at the front of the pack.

Probably asks to take a moonlit walk through a cemetery. What, it’s romantic!

He is Scottish, and they’re quite superstitious about Hallowe’en. Seb doesn’t walk across the street when he sees a black cat or anything, but he’s very respectful towards the dead (barring the aforementioned graveyard romp)

Scares everyone — teachers, his friends, Hogsmeade shopkeepers. The only person he can’t seem to get is Ominis, and it haunts him.

Would say cheesy little things to his S.O. (or friends) like “if I pull a trick on you now, will I still get a treat later?” 🙄

Ominis

Doesn’t really understand Hallowe’en or care about the holiday, but his friends love it so he goes along (begrudgingly).

Dresses up as the same thing with slight variations every year unless Sebastian can wrangle him into something else. Definitely likes classic/scary costumes i.e. vampire

The guy clinging to his friend/partner in the haunted house (usually Poppy; she doesn’t mind).

In my lore, he owns a little black cat and is highly protective of her on Halloween. Like takes her everywhere (sadly some people are known to harm black cats on this day ☹️)

Denies most party invitations because the energy is just too much. If he does come, he’s in the corner talking to like two people and drinking lmao

However, he’d secretly live for mischief night type antics and would come up with the most devious pranks. Never gets in trouble for a single one.

Garreth

Bought out Honeyduke’s by October 1. Most of it is for him and he’s in a coma by midnight.

Creates a drink that tastes like candy corn and gives you so much energy you can’t fall asleep until sunrise. Nobody in the castle sleeps that night and the professors are running around literally stopping kids from bouncing off walls.

Dresses up as a pun/something silly (obviously) or “badass”— could show up as a knight or as Merlin with a really long beard just so he can say “Merlin’s beard” fifty times. Would totally show up to class dressed as Professor Sharp and get detention for it.

Cracking jokes in the haunted house and messing with the actors until they have to kick him out.

Is either in an all-out war with Peeves or has teamed up with him to pull a practical joke on the Slytherins.

Enthusiastic pumpkin-carver and apple-bobber. Did the Monster Mash before it was cool.

Amit

Gotta be honest, can’t see him being a big fan of Halloween. He’d rather be in front of a fire writing his memoir than out with all the hooligans (aka his friends)

IF someone can manage to drag him out of the common room, chances are it’s his partner and he’s stuck to their side like glue all night. The unfortunate victim of many a prank.

Costume consists of different astronomers every year, which are remarkably detailed. Sometimes he’ll mix it up and try out a mummy or something from mythology.

Will likely refuse to step foot in the haunted house, but on the off chance he’s persuaded, Amit flinches at every little sound 😅

Knows a lot about the history of All Hallows’ Eve and will tell anyone within earshot.

Not a fan of ghosts (I mean, they are a bit unsettling), although they all seem to love him — he’s just got a soothing presence, I guess.

Natty

She didn’t grow up celebrating Halloween like everyone else did, so she could really take it or leave it. But it can be fun!

In Africa, they focus on the oldest traditions of this time of year by honoring their dead. Natsai and her mom would probably pay homage to her father.

Doesn’t wear a costume her first couple of years in Scotland, but by sixth year she’s decked out in something pretty. I could see her dressing up as a powerful female historical figure like Cleopatra or Morgan le Fay.

Honestly might go for a couples’ costume and would dutifully think of the perfect one. Always coming up with good ideas for things to do, too.

Is eerily chill in the haunted house. Nobody even sees her flinch until the very end, she’s too busy herding everyone to notice what’s going on.

Enjoys a good scare, but she doesn’t really like to scare other people (unless they deserve it).

Poppy

Her and her gran had little Halloween traditions, but she never got to fully appreciate the holiday until she started making more friends at school.

Often dressing up as some type of magical creature (shocker, I know) or a cute/whimsical being; like a unicorn or a dryad.

Is down for the count after about three Butterbeers at the end of the night and needs to be carried back to Hufflepuff common room.

Gets moderately scared at the haunted house; still braves it admirably. Is pushed to the middle of the group for protection since she’s the smallest 😂

Makes special treats for the creatures and would probably yell at anyone who tried to force their pets into costumes oop

Loves to decorate the dorm/common room with enchanted lights and wreathes and shimmery cobwebs.

Imelda

Pretends to think that Hallowe’en is ridiculous but secretly LOVES it. She’s counting down the days as soon as school starts.

It’s the day before the first Quidditch game of the year so honestly don’t be surprised if she disappears for a few hours to practice. Or makes the rest of the team join.

Has the best costumes and you’ll never guess what she’s going to show up as. One year it’s a Holyhead Harpies player, the next it’s a disturbingly convincing zombie, and another she goes as Sebastian to piss him off.

Fighting people in the haunted house. You touch her? You lose a hand. You touch Poppy? You die. She’s kicked out even before Garreth.

Has no qualms about spooking the underclassmen (watch out Zenobia) — or anyone, for that matter. Absolutely BRUTAL.

Tells a great scary story, and she can make them up on the spot. They’ll just give you nightmares for a few weeks, it’s fine.

[thedeviltohisangel]

All The Things I Did (12): I Bet You Want Forever

a/n: hi my lovelies! i told you one day john would sing blue skies to cass and finally that day has come! the beginning of this chapter is heavy on cass and harding before we get to our beloveds but i hope you all like it. the next big plot point is going to take us to north africa where john and bobby cooper are going to meet and i just know you guys are going to love every minute of it. please feel free to pop into my inbox to chat about these two (or butter) whenever. love you all and can't wait to chat about this one and what comes next!

Easy as pie.

Her mother wasn’t found in the kitchen all too often but she made an exception when it came to the holidays. Mostly for Thanksgiving and mostly for the task of her apple pie. Cass would sit at the counter and watch her mother measure the ingredients with an ease that showed how many she had made over the years. Cut the butter with a bend of her wrist and focus on her face. Hand Cass a fork and allow her to stir, always ensuring she was gentle and gentle and gentle, as the water was poured into the bowl. If she behaved, she was allowed to poke at the dough with her fingers and delight at the feeling before she was ushered off to wash her hands. Before she was tucked back into a chair to watch quietly as her mother continued to work. 

The housekeeper peeling and slicing apples, her mother tossing them in sugar and cinnamon and nutmeg. Cass would hold her breath as they rolled the dough over the pie plate and filled it with the fruit, trimming everything as perfectly as they could before it disappeared into the oven. 

The whole house smelled warm and delicious in the days leading up to Thanksgiving. She remembered it fondly though fading as the months away from the Palmetto State. 

It was a slice of pie flavored like lemon that was placed in front of her and it almost made her pause her laugh at the joke the British colonel had just delivered. 

It wasn’t apple pie nor was it made by the hands of her mother but the plate was threatening to pull her under with the memories. With the longing to be back in the place that had effortlessly been described by the word home. The place that had her siblings and nieces and nephews and her horses and dogs…but it also had people like Landry. People that looked at her like a commodity, the same way the British officers were looking at her now. 

“It is a shame, Lieutenant, that dessert signals the end of a meal. Perhaps I could entice you to extend it?” She smiled and daintily slid a tiny bite of said dessert between her lips. Her eyes stayed on his as she tracked his gaze to her lips. They pressed together in a hum. He swallowed. 

Easy as pie.

----

She kept the fake smile on her face while they danced and made sure she was extra light on her toes as the Brits took turns spinning her around. They told her of their families around their cigarettes. How long it had been since they’d seen them. How old their children were. The quality of life they were living in London. When they had switched to cigars after dinner, she’d let their fingers brush hers. Tease them with touch as asked where an officer got calluses like those. With a puff of his chest he had told her all about his military training. Where it was. How long it was. The weapons he had handled in order to earn those very calluses. 

Cass ate up every crumb he offered and ducked her head in a giggle to seal the bubbly drunk deal. The only thing that could derail her night was his hand on her knee. 

“Sir…” she said with a bat of her lashes, her fingers wrapping around his and pushing as gently as she could manage. 

“Are you otherwise occupied, Lieutenant?” She smiled without showing her teeth.

“Occupied with thoughts of an Allied victory.” With a hand smoothing her skirts, she stood on steadied feet. “Might you walk me to the car?” She made sure Colonel Harding was in ear shot when she posed the question. She had no further interest in participating in this ordeal. All that she had come for had been obtained and her report would be more thorough than necessary. 

The RAF officer took her gloved hand with a bow of his head and led her into the cool, night sky while Harding made his rounds of goodbyes. 

“I do hope you had a wonderful night, Lieutenant Cooper, and would never hesitate to join me for another dinner.” 

“An open invitation?” Also keep them willing to see you again. One of the key tenets of her training. Never let them think you’ve tired of them or were bored by their company. It had been drilled into her at school to always secure a next meeting. A way to contact them. A way to find them. A way to make sure you could cross paths again should you need to. There was no  way of knowing when his loose lips would prove useful to her once again. 

“Always and forever, Cassandra.” Her eyes twinkled in the starlight. Oh she had him so good. 

“Lieutenant. Shall we be going?” Harding’s words were clipped and stern without even attempting to hide his displeasure with the scene he had found himself intruding upon. Cass nodded respectfully to the Brit before taking Harding’s elbow and allowing him to escort her to their waiting Jeep.

“You seem displeased,” she muttered as they moved outside of earshot, the plastic smile slipping from her face.

“I asked for your expertise in assessment not a honey trap.” Cass scoffed as he lit a new cigar and opened the passenger door for her.

“A honey trap? Colonel, I did nothing improper tonight. Led him to believe nothing. Promised him nothing. Ruined nothing.” How dare he imply she had leveraged something distinctly unholy to get any information tonight. She had flirted. Leaned into her femininity. But she hadn’t crossed that line the way she knew other women from her class had and would. How could she when she had John Egan waiting for her back at Thorpe? Losing him wasn’t worth anything in exchange.

“You have done more for this war effort than any of those men have.” 

“And that’s a problem?” 

“I asked you here because I know you’re good at your job and because I knew you needed to rip the bandage off. But seeing you with that officer…The OSS is only ever going to view you as lesser than.” She chilled her face into stoicism and blinked against the night-chilled air. 

“I don’t owe you an explanation or justification for my career.” Had he not just been the first to find her after Berlin? Had he not coaxed her blood-soaked hands from the back of that airplane? From around the wound of her friend who had died in her arms?

“Cassandra, you could be so much more.”

“Like what? A girl who hands out coffee and donuts? Your secretary?” Your wife was burning on the tip of her tongue but she swallowed it down. 

“At least you wouldn’t be dead.” 

“And how does my death concern you?” she asked with the clarity of a viper and the sting of its venom. The lights of the officer’s club were growing in clarity before her eyes. He put the car into park before turning to her.

“I would like for your well-being to concern me. Beyond being someone in your chain of command.” God, she knew exactly where this was going. What the hesitancy in his tone and words implied. What the look in his eyes would be if she dared to turn and look into them. It was the sentiment he had pondered sharing with her that night in London. The sentiment she had brushed aside as just a handsome man enamored by a young woman. It hadn’t even crossed her mind to consider he would bring his lust to the forefront again. Certainly not after it had been made abundantly clear that her heart was in the hands of another. Firmly. “I shouldn’t have let you leave that night without telling you. Without asking you-”

“Please let me out of this car.” She was giving him one chance to save his dignity in front of her. One chance to unlock the doors and let her walk into the officer’s club. One chance to pretend the conversation had never gone down this path. If he did that, she’d spare him the wrath of telling the Major who was waiting behind those doors to dance with her. Make love to her. Spend his whole life with her.

“We would be happy together.” Screw it. She bent her legs and kicked, the flimsy door of the Jeep opening against its will and swaying back and forth. “One day Major Egan will not land after a mission.” She whirled on him. Fire in her eyes and her hands threatening to rip through the fabric of the seats with her rage.

“Don’t you ever…ever say anything like that. To me, to yourself, to anyone! I will end your career if you do, am I understood?” Acknowledgement flicked across his eyes. She had a folder on him. The same way she did everyone else. “Say it out loud, Colonel.”

“Understood.” She held his gaze for a beat longer before rolling her shoulders and letting her anger pass. The compartment of her emotions locked back into place. 

Her toes daintily touched the ground, her gloved fingers tucked her curls back into place and she settled her purse into the crook of her elbow. “Enjoy your evening, Colonel. It sounds like there’s a band playing!”

----

Gale wished the music was louder. Just enough to drown out the incessant tapping of John Egan’s foot. He was restless. He was restless and he was fidgeting and it was detracting from the music that Gale thought was actually really well performed. A perfect balm for the day in question.

“You know what this is missing?” He knew what John was going to say.

“Nothing.”

“Vocals.” The Major went to stand and Gale pressed him back into his seat. John huffed but straightened his jacket and with a sip of his drink, settled back into his chair. “Shouldn’t she be back by now?”

“I don’t know what her business entailed, John.” He had kept one eye trained on the door the entire night. Had sipped angrily at his drink. Was even more restless than he normally was by his own standards. “However, I am certain she doesn’t want to spend any more time with Harding or away from you than she absolutely has to.”

“The whole thing makes me uneasy.” The job of being a spook in itself. The lack of time since Berlin before she was being called on again. The way Harding had gone about convincing her to attend this dinner on his arm. The fact that she never seemed to fear for her life and left all the worrying up to him. But, he supposes, she would say the same thing about his regard for the future as well. “Maybe if I start singing, she’ll feel compelled to answer the call and appear.”

“Only to put the rest of us out of our misery,” Gale muttered back. John was in the process of leaning around him to get someone else’s opinion when the door to the hall creaked open and the gentle tapping of heeled shoes pierced his ears through the music. He’d be able to follow the cadence of those steps through a dogfight. 

“Something’s wrong.” It was plain as day to him. Her shoulders were tight and drawn back like she was readying for a fight. He could almost feel the tension that was rippling up and down her muscles. It was how he imagined she would look in the presence of her mother in South Carolina. Stoic and perfectly coiffed and put together. Though that unyielding gaze and ferocious set to her jaw would probably exist in any time or place that Cass did. 

She met his gaze just as the tune shifted to Blue Skies and he figured it couldn’t be a mere coincidence. Not when the exact person who had chased away his blues was looking right at him like she needed a reminder that she was still loved by him. He wouldn’t let her question that for a second. “I’m going to sing,” he announced, rising from his seat before Gale could think to stop him again. 

John reached the microphone and picked up with the music exactly where it was. Cass watched with awe as he smiled and danced, his voice rasping as it reached for the notes at the edge of his range. She placed her fingertips over her lips but a giggle managed to escape anyway as he pointed a finger directly at her and beckoned forward. In the name of potential embarrassment, Cass shook her head. He was undeterred.

In what could only be described as a shimmy, John made his way over to his love and gently placed her purse in the hands of the bartender before pulling her into the center of the dancefloor. She caught herself against his chest before he pushed her out into a spin and caught her under the small of her back for a dip. 

“Did you miss me tonight?” she asked, slightly out of breath. 

“You appeared just when it was becoming too much,” he answered.  He lifted her and they settled into the beat of the song and other couples began to join around them. “Did you have a good night?” The Colonel had walked in at some point during their song and dance, pulling Red aside almost immediately to partake in a whisper campaign. 

“I got what I needed.” There was no use adding to his burden with the details of the car ride home. In her mind it had been handled. And if Harding chose to challenge her threat? Well, she’d handle that too. Swiftly. 

“Did you miss me tonight?” he asked, posing her own question back to her. The tip of his nose reached for hers and she nuzzled it back with as much love as she could muster.

“I did. Just made me think of all the dresses I have in my closet back home I know you’re going to love.” The life of a high society woman was full of dresses and scarves and stockings and heels and everything else that was in short supply over in England. In South Carolina, Cass could never wear the same thing twice and careful consideration into the color palette always began weeks in advance. As the eldest daughter still eligible to marry, the color palette had aligned to her complexion last season. In a couple years, her sister Jill would make her debut and become the centerpiece of the considerations. Cass didn’t miss much about that public life of being a Cooper in South Carolina. But she missed her family and wanted to be there for her sister for the occasion.

“How big is your closet back home?” They were gently swaying to the music and didn’t care if they were matching the pace of those around them. The only space that existed in this world was the tiny circle they occupied.

“At least the size of my office here.” John balked.

“Why on earth do you need a space that big?”

“I have at home dresses, morning tea dresses, afternoon tea dresses, lesson dresses, small, medium and large social gathering dresses-”

“I get the picture,” he chuckled, quieting her with a kiss to her pouted lips. “Don’t give me that look, baby.”

“This is the look of a girl who won’t give up any of her closet space for you.”

“That’s fine. I’ll even let you have my half.” If he could even afford a fraction of the space it seemed her lifestyle required. 

“Presumptuous. Since when did we agree to share a closet?” He gave her a breathless laugh but tightened the grip he had on her hand and her waist. As if he was all of a sudden afraid she was going to disappear from his arms. 

“Well, you agreed to come home with me after we dance on Hitler’s grave,” he hummed in thought, “and I don’t know what the OSS is paying these days but the Army Air Force is not paying much so it might take me some time to buy the big, beautiful house you deserve that would allow you to have a closet of the grandeur you require so you might have to share with me for a little while.” His eyes connected back with hers and though he tried to keep that aloof gleam to them, hers had gotten wholly serious. 

“John…You don’t think…You don’t think any of that really matters to me, do you?” Cass paused and reached to hold his chin between her thumb and first finger. “I miss my family. I miss the comforts of home. But I left that life on purpose and of my own accord. Traded it in for the one I’m in now with blood and mud and early mornings and long nights. I do want to go home with you when all this is over. I want it so bad. Gosh, I’d do it in a fucking shoebox if it meant that day would come even a moment sooner.” 

“Cass.” Her name was a hoarse whisper as he breathed it. 

“Don’t give up on me, please,” she begged. 

“That’s not…Cass, that is not at all what my hesitancy is about.” Someone bumped into John with an apology and he quickly pulled Cass to his chest before moving to the outskirts of the hall. “I know you're accustomed to a certain kind of life and I know you don’t need much to be happy but in my soul I know I want to give it to you. I’ve seen all too often when love isn’t enough and I can’t…Fuck, Cass, I can’t stomach the idea of ever not being able to provide for you.” She smiled and took a step closer to him, her head fully tilting back so they could be no misconstruing the emotions swirling in her eyes. 

“Sidney Landry has the kind of money you’re talking about. But he could have never loved me the way you do.” Her hand pressed flat against his chest and she smiled at how sure his heart was beating. Maybe a little frantic. But it was strong and steady and John Egan was so alive it made something wild spurn to life inside her. Something she had only teased herself with back home by running away. Running around Europe. “You make me want to break free from a cage I didn’t even know I had locked myself in. I need you, John. Just you. We have the rest of our lives to figure everything else out.” She didn’t know how to properly explain to him that they would never have to worry about money. That her trust fund and inheritance tied to the business empire with her name on it could fund the lives of everyone in the dance hall and their families back home for years and years. There was no way to put it into words that didn’t sound like a spoiled, pretentious princess. An identity she was inspected to have. One day, when he came home with her to South Carolina, she could show him. It would be easier that way.

“I love you. I’m going to do this right, Cass. I promise.” This was once in a lifetime. The kind of love you didn’t get a second chance on. The kind of woman that had no reason to sit around and wait to see if he would fulfill his promises. Cass was even the type of woman meant to be on earth, an angel who had blessed him with a cotton candy sky. He had one chance. One chance to ensure he had the honor of loving her, feeling her love in return, for the rest of his life. 

One chance to survive a war. The horrors of flying a plane through enemy territory. The horrors of his brothers not returning. Sometimes it felt wrong to be so happy in this environment. But then he looked at her. His beautiful Cass. His. The woman he loved. Cherished. Devoted himself to every day. The woman he intended to make his wife one day. The mother of his children. And he swore he would make it to twenty-one missions. 

“You are right, John. You.” Tonight, that was all that mattered.

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

MORNING NEWS WITH ASMI!

11 Oct 2024

WELL HERE WE ARE AGAIN GOOD MORNING MAGGOTS! It's not currently morning (well it is in Texas) and I have decided to make another cursed morning paper (this is the first one, for reference).

FIRST, THE NEWS:

My old strawberry Kellogg's cereal got hard (/not the ao3 way) and weird because the packet wasn't shut. Luckily it was almost over and now I have a new strawberry Kellogg's cereal. It is crispy. Yay!

Hurricane Milton has exited Florida.

The friend whom I was wondering if they had a tumblr and then it turns out they thought tumblr died in like 2016? WELL UPDATE, THEY USED TO HAVE A TUMBLR AGES AGO SO I GUESS I WAS KIND OF RIGHT?

Biden tells Trump to "Get a life, man," over misinformation about the Milton situation.

Everyone was wondering why Apple removed its seahorse emoji. Turns out there was never a seahorse emoji. Or a robber emoji. What the fuck is going on. Are clouds real? Am I real? Are you real?

The adorable baby hippo Moo Deng is now inspiring makeup looks. What a fashion icon. And apparently I remind my college friends of her. If I were an animal, I would be Moo Deng. Not a hippo, specifically Moo Deng the Pygmy Hippo.

You are loved, actually.

WONDERFUL! NOW THE WEATHER:

Australia: Turns out it was not hot. It was fucking storming. The one time I try to cater to the southern bitches and this is what I get.

Asia: Bit cloudy with a lot of sun (or as my laptop weather app, which is for some fucking reason in French, says: très ensoleillé).

North America: Whee whee go round round winds.

South America: Wet.

Africa: Not wet.

Antarctica: Fucking green.

THE SOLUTIONS TO YESTERDAY'S CROSSWORD ARE:

A sad watermelon: Meloncholy (I'm fucking hilarious don't kill me)

Ancient Greek Chicken Man: Diogenes

A river in Egypt: Denial

Flesh mounds of pre-cheese: Boobs.

The only correct word for tuberculosis or whatever it's called: Consumption (no I'm not two centuries late to everything)

AND TODAY'S:

TOODLES HAVE A LOVELY DAY! I LOVE YOU.

[matan4il]

Something I see and have seen more of since the SA hearing started was people taking tweets/statements in Hebrew and using Google translate to claim these Israelis are saying really racist, crazy things. Like I'm sure there are asshole Israelis who spout off racist shit, but every country has that, and people can cherry pick whatever they want.

But part of me doubts all of these tweets are even translated correctly. I mean, Google Translate is notoriously bad, but suddenly, it's reliable? I'm sure it's fucking up in some cases, and I wouldn't be shocked if some are straight up wrong or faked (it's not that hard especially now with ai).

But again even if all these racist tweets calling SA's monkeys/slaves and should be bombed are true, those don't represent all Israelis and its clear they're picking the worst examples. Also, it's so annoying to see this idea coming from people who defend the antisemitic stuff in their movement by claiming it doesn't represent all of them. So again it just becomes anouther double standard for Israel/jews in general.

Hi Nonnie,

Absolutely, you're right that there was a lot of taking things out of context, like presenting something that an Israeli official said about destroying Hamas, as if it's said about all Palestinians.

But you're right to be skeptical that maybe some translations are incorrect. Automatic translations ARE bad, but there are also people who are intentionally mistranslating.

I'll give you an example. I'm sorry now that I didn't save that post, but I found the vid that the post used the first 5 seconds from. It's a vid of Yoav Gallant, Israel's Defense Minister, speaking about how, "Gaza won't return to what it was before. We will eliminate everything." Which sounds pretty damning, right? Except the translator intentionally skipped four short words in Hebrew. Gallant actually said, "Gaza won't return to what it was before, Hamas won't be, we will eliminate everything." <- These 3 short words (Hamas lo ihie) totally change the meaning! Here's the vid, and a transcription of the Hebrew words, if you wanna try and follow: "Azza lo tachzor lihiot ma she'hi haita, Hamas lo ihie, nechasel et ha'kol."

Please note that this is an official translation, from an actual news source, the Al Arabiya channel. Which shows you how much you can trust media that's biased against Israel.

Those three omitted words make it clear that what Gallant means will change after the war is specifically that Hamas will be removed from Gaza, and 'we will eliminate everything' refers to the terrorist infrastructure of Hamas in Gaza, not to the entire area.

What gets to me is that you can clearly hear Gallant say 'Hamas' at the start of his second sentence, even without understanding Hebrew or following the entire transcription, so you don't even need to take my word for it. You can listen to it for yourself, and see that someone omitted the word 'Hamas' from the translation, which in the context of a sentence then quoted by countless anti-Israel social media accounts, and by South Africa at the UN's International Court of Justice, is quite a significant omission.

And this is just one example. So yeah, absolutely DO NOT TRUST translations that come from anti-Israel sources. They have every reason to lie, omit and distort, and millions who blindly believe them.

As for how there are some bad apples in Israel, of course there are! Every human group has both horrible and amazing people, and everything in between. That's not the question. In the context of a state, it's a question of whether these people represent an actual policy? Do they even have power to dictate policy? When they say awful things, how are they treated, are they embraced, or denounced? Is the implementation of the state's actual policy in the field indicative of genocidal intents, or do the over 10,000 aid trucks allowed by Israel into Gaza so far, speak louder than an insignificant Israeli politician, who doesn't even have the authority to dictate Israel's policy regarding Gaza, and who thinks he's scoring some cookie points by saying some dumbass shit?

Like one Israeli politician, who's in charge of heritage, whatever that's supposed to mean (I can't tell you a single accomplishment of his, or a task he oversees, but he certainly isn't in charge of ANYTHING that has to do with the war) who was asked (so this dumbass didn't even come up with this dumb take himself), "Would it be a possibility for Israel to use a nuclear bomb on Gaza?" and he said yes. He didn't come up with this idea, he didn't say it's a certainty, he didn't call for its execution, he was just asked about the option and said it exists, except anyone with a single brain cell (yes, you can tell my opinion of him), and certainly the people in Israel with real power, would tell you that even if anyone was that inhumane, dropping a nuclear bomb on Gaza, which is right by Israel, with tons of Israeli communities right next to the border, would kill countless people in Israel, too. Which I am sure he would not actually support in a real life scenario. Oh, and he also got denounced and suspended right away. And still he was quoted at the ICJ, because why not? We all know every country is measured by what its dumbest, least consequential politician says, not by what its leaders do... Oh wait, no. That's just Israel.

So yes, you're right. It is an application of a double standard that discriminates the Jewish state, while most countries aren't treated that way, and while Israel haters themselves wouldn't wanna be treated like that.

I hope you're well, and taking care of yourself in the face of all of this hateful propaganda and discrimination! xoxox

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[dpunkster]

Listen to The Future Is Now Album now on Apple Music & iTunes...

[ghanaplug]

Tyla tells Apple Music How She Found Her Sound

This Week’s Episode Features a Conversation With Tyla, the 5 Hottest Tracks of the Week, Africa Rising and Nandi Madida’s Favourite Track of the Week! Cover Star Interview Grammy award-winning South African pop sensation Tyla joins Nandi Madida via FaceTime on Apple Music 1 to talk about her latest track, “ART.” She also discusses her new album, ’TYLA,’ the evolution of her sound, working with…

[yurious-george]

4'33'', by John Cage, is commonly remembered as 4 and a half minutes of silence. But contrary to popular belief, the song is not actually meant to be the sound of silence, but the sound of quiet. Ambient noises contribute to - and consist of - the performance. True silence does not exist. If one tilts their head right, the whole world sings. and, with that said, a playlist.

yeah, this one's a doozy. hi, cubewatermelon and co. miss me?

rhetorical question. don't answer that.

A few nitty-gritty things out of the way, first. this is specifically intended for the 2018 mod team for the sleepless domain fans discord server, primarily cubewatermelon/mary cagle. Folks who knew me are welcome to look on, but I'm not going to do much to catch people up to speed. hi, everyone! hope you're well!

I also might be a bit disjointed or biased in my recollection. For reasons that will be made clear extremely soon, I can't put my childhood on a linear timeline. I can only express myself, and hope I don't mess it up horribly this time.

Noooowww to the big stuff. re: stalking; i genuinely didn't mean to stalk anyone, and when they told me to back off, i backed off. I am not willing to discuss this further. not being able to conceptualize other people's emotions or the consequences of my actions has caused some problems for me

that's an autism thing btw. im autistic i dont think i told anyone that

And now, the special guest you've all been waiting for: a big round of applause for the elephant in the room! In accordance with the WMA Declaration of Tokyo, the deliberate overprescription of psychotropic medication is a form of pharmacological torture. Most victims of pharmacological torture and experimentation are children, because it is nigh-impossible to sue for brain damage when there is no fully-formed adult brain for comparison prior to the abuse.

Torture is a strong word, but I don't have another word to use. psychiatric abuse usually describes mistreatment in psychiatric wards; pharmacological abuse describes a patient who takes advantage of a prescription; medical abuse is when a doctor (usually physically) abuses their patient. Being able to understand what happened to you is a form of agency, and I don't even have the words. I identify as a torture victim; this may change.

This high dose was precedented and legal, but the vaginal stretching of intersex infants is also legal. much involuntary psychiatric & psychotropic treatment (such as restraints and solitary confinement) are legal, and child marriage is legal. abuse is not abnormal: it is profoundly normal. Because something is normal, legal, and precedented does not prevent it from being torture.

and when your mother hands you a poison apple and says "here, eat this; it will be good for you; i hope someday you'll forgive me" you have to eat it, because you are eight years old and you don't get to argue with your mother. despite all this, I don't blame my aunt for refilling the high dose. when I said the dose was hurting me, she listened. (thank you, auntie. i wouldn't have gotten out without you.)

And this brings us to you. oh, you four. (five? i forget myself!)

I'd like to establish some context. I was used to things getting taken from me. friend groups in particular: I didn't expect to keep any friends, because I constantly expected to have to pack up and move on. I moved a lot in my childhood, and in Africa, i was constantly told that at some undetermined point in the near future, i'd have to go back to the states. living with my aunt was a temporary thing, i was expected to eventually move back in with my parents at some undetermined point in the future. I relied heavily on online friends because they were people I could have anywhere, so online communities were my only lifeline - not to mention, i was basically in solitary confinement while in Kenya.

Most of all, I was terrified of my mental health/actions being exposed, examined, found lacking, and ultimately excluded. (this is why i was so afraid of psychiatric wards.) When you decided something had to be done about me - cutting me off from the server so i had to speak with you - It was either comply with your demands to communicate (which I could not, and did not understand why) or lose the community. I was so, so afraid of you i wanted to die when you all confronted me, and of course i couldn't say that, because only manipulative people would say "your attempt to solve this problem makes me want to seriously hurt myself."

But then I got called manipulative anyway <3 yay <3

Seriously: I wasn't trying to manipulate anyone, and i have no idea how you can manipulate someone without intention. (ah, that felt good to say!) Between medication spellbinding, alexithymia, and prior abuse, all my thoughts were so disordered i genuinely couldn't explain myself most of the time. Looking back, I have no childhood memory where I was fully lucid. I leaned into a manic persona because it was the only way I had any agency at all. I was something beyond both reason and self-recognition, and I willingly tried to brute-force my way through an extreme trauma response to please you. And you still hit me with my worst nightmare. that's why i was mad at you lol

I was so, so afraid, all the time, and I didn't even have the tools to understand I was afraid. How could someone as confident and impulsive as me be so fearful all the time? Was that manic persona freedom? Or was it a longer leash?

(Forgive my impulse toward rhetoric. I shouldn't ask questions you can't answer.)

I also couldn't say how badly i was hurting, because that would be venting, but you also accused me of venting when I was just talking about my day? or what was on my mind? I didn't understand that very well. autism moment, don't bother explaining it now. I also couldn't burden people with my actual mental health problems, because making strangers deal with that would be toxic! I resent you for setting up a system where it seemed safest not to speak and then punishing me for my inability to communicate. I resent every system that set me up for failure and punished me for failing, including yours.

And yet - I know that was not your intent! I can see in retrospect how hard you tried to be kind using the tools you had. The people with power over me, who genuinely did not want to do me harm and gave me multiple second chances, still upheld and facilitated the systems that tortured me; a miniature parody of the psychiatric system. (talk therapy and communication are useless if you struggle with self-awareness.) The same is true for the source: No person in my psychiatric treatment wanted me to suffer, and yet, here I am: a torture victim without a torturer. (except my parents, sort of.)

The logical conclusion, then: the system only intends to heal those who are already compliant, or prioritize compliance. The rest of us are treated to induce compliance, and if we still cannot, we are sequestered away. My medicine made me sick, and my prescribers made money off of keeping me sick - off of my torture. This is not a conspiracy: it is my lived experience.

However, even if i could communicate perfectly, we still would have had massive communication issues. Like - you know that one page where ben and steffi talk about dating, and ben says he thought steffi was gay? and steffi gets super defensive and it escalates into a screaming fight? I found that offensive, because a character getting that offput by the concept of not liking men (or a man) is kind of lesbophobic! But I understood that it would be a pain to redraw/write the page so they they fight about something else, don't fight, or some other solution, so i didn't need it to be fixed - just wanted to point out that was a reasonable interpretation, and one to be aware of in the future. but somehow my concerns got interpreted as a phrasing issue…? like, Ms. Cagle rewrote the page to say "weren't into guys" instead of "gay"..? You were very polite about it, Ms! But I found this interaction so baffling I didn't even try to correct it. that… wasn't what i said…

frankly we should bring back mildly homophobic steffi. twas narratively appropriate (<- different essay for a different time)

but yeah the whole communication operation was doomed from the start. rip!

The issue was always my inability to communicate, but my meds made it nigh-impossible to understand what I was feeling, and when I did, expressing myself could get me institutionalized. My suffering was inevitable but always, somehow, my fault. Awesome! *disintegrates into a pile of sand*

I cannot deny I was a girl like a box of matches waiting to be struck. You had no choice but to do as you did. But is it really what you ought to have done? (On this, I have no answer. I hope you have one that satisfies you.)

(that was genuine, by the by. i've spent a lot of time pondering this mess, and I still haven't found the "right" answer. I don't think there is one - though action or inaction, there is no version of this story where I don't suffer. I can only hope it was worth it. wait, hold on *adds the omelas child to my Kin List*)

Nor can I deny making my previous open letter in a small attempt to 'get back' at you - i'm not above that. lord knows i'm not innocent. but i really was trying to channel that rage into something productive. unfortunately i was doomed to fail because i didn't know what i meant. if you showed me that letter now, you'd hear a lot of "what? I don't know why I said that" "i have no idea why i would complain about something so minor" etc. You can disregard all that. This is what I was trying to say. the obsession, the trauma, the projection: all of it. So much of my obsession was talking around an issue i couldn't identify.

(meguka image) I know now

I knew I would be traumatized by this whole situation. I saw it coming and i could do nothing to stop it. But Gear was crucial to deciphering all this - in fact, suddenly thinking about her last year prompted me to really dissect my medical situation and realize i was tortured. I couldn't have done it without her. cassie & maggie, against the world.

Gear scans surprisingly well as a victim of long-term torture, actually. I don't think you meant to do that but good job!

speaking of her - i still don't think she's consistently suicidal. she's a real cockroach of a character, and I love her for it! But sometimes, i want to die and i want to live mean the same thing, because they both mean i need to get out of here. Imo, her thought processes and desires frequently contradict themselves, like mine did. and making your favs kill themselves in increasingly gruesome ways is really fun catharsis!

But please don't take this to mean I consider myself - or Gear - blameless. I love her because she's not blameless, because she's cruel for fun, because she'd rather be wicked than helpless. Like knows like. What I mean to say is, as of 2018, there is a black space between little Margret and Gear, and I saw all the signs of something very, very bad happening in that space. I know because I shared that space. what I mean to say is, teenage girls don't go out of their minds over nothing. Everything I made here is just an expression of what I heard in the narrative's silences.

and thus my biggest apprehension around revisiting the comic. knowing the author and I have such fundamentally different experiences with mental health - what if the signs of torture i picked up on weren't intended, or i completely made them up? what if, in the parts i haven't read yet, there's information that uproots my entire interpretation, or berates her for refusing mental health services that hurt me profoundly? how do you reconcile that a character so crucial to deciphering yourself may not be anything like you at all? I Don't Know. Shitpost, probably

You're welcome to share those shitposts and whatnot by the way. Creating this let me put down years of hurt, and i hope it relieves you, too. I don't need to go back on the server, or forgiveness, or anything besides understanding. consider this a peace offering. the terms are yours.

Despite writing nearly 10k words, I still probably missed something or was callous or whatever. Self-expression and self-understanding are… new to me. My apology may be understated, but please take it as I meant it, with utmost sincerity. My askbox is open, and I'm more than happy to discuss antipsych resources, KB, What The Hell Is Wrong With Gear, artistic choices made in this comic, etc. I'm even down to reconnect on discord! Maybe. Uh, I'm conflicted. I reserve my right to not want to talk, be slow in responding, and so on, as should you. we've no obligations and all the time in the world. Let neither of us hurt ourselves in meeting because it's the "right" thing to do. I'm not blaming anyone or trying to start drama. If it would give you the most peace of mind to completely ignore this, please do so.

or, translated: as of right now, I'm not ready for any information about KB after steffi reunites with her dad, or difficult emotional reunions. I would really like to hear from everyone, and I'd appreciate casual well-wishes. I don't want things to be the same, I want them to be peaceful. Baby steps, cassie, baby steps. (very large and fearful prey animal tries not to run into oncoming traffic)

mostly, making this was for me. Perhaps I've said too much, but after spending so long unable to express myself freely, my art was cathartic and necessary. I'm no one's martyr or innocent, I'm just a torture victim trying to make sense of it all. I want to articulate some thoughts I couldn't figure out how to say before and make some silly things that make people laugh. Most of all, I'm happy in ways I never thought I could be, and I would like to share that joy with old acquaintances and other fans of a story I adored.

What I mean to say is: The train's about to leave the station, and there's an empty seat beside me. The train will still leave whether or not you board; but I would be honored not to go it alone!

Thank you to everyone who stuck by me even after the drama. Ethel, Felipe, Chris - even though we've fallen out of contact, your kindness and patience meant more than i can say. special thank you to @stars-in-a-jam-jar, the first person i confessed everything to after the smoke cleared, and someone i consider myself close with no matter how long we fall out of contact. My close online friends, @shafpanda, @theoandmoon, @dvanaestmrva, my honorary cousin @my-name-is-jimmy, and everyone else I confided in about my torture. and, of course, my partners @transloo and @teenyjellyfishy, and my little sibling, @aroacenezhaanddainsleif, the three people I love most in the world. Thank you, all. it is an honor to love you, and be loved by you.

[blue-disco-lights]

One Year as a Beta!

@gallavich-fic-club said Sprinkle Some Joy on our writers this month, so I thought I'd compile all the incredible stories I've had the chance to help beta over the last year! It's been such a great experience and I've loved meeting and working with all of you!

✨ === ✨ Fics Below! ✨ === ✨

🌟 Miss_SnowWhitePink ~ @look-i-love-u

Puppy Love: People say nothing good happens after two a.m. Mickey's life experiences have told him that this rumour is very much true. At least till now - Enter a cute puppy which turns Mickey's life upside down and changes it for the better...

Sirens: Being an EMT during the holiday season is bad enough without having a TV crew watching his every step, so Ian hates everything about his superior`s new project. Including the members of the crew. At least till he sees the guy manning the huge camera as if it weighs nothing and isn't afraid to speak his mind...

🌟  IanGalagher ~ @ian-galagher

Africa: When Ian lands himself an internship with famous wildlife photographer Mickey Milkovich he can't believe his luck. Spending one month traveling through South Africa with his big hero is a dream come true. The two are off on a wild adventure but there's something mysterious about Mickey who seems to be holding more to his chest than just the tricks of the trade Ian had hoped to learn from him.

🌟 Pink_Ink ~ @palepinkgoat

The Ink is a Witness to This: six chapters about the stories tattoos can hold and hide.

🌟 tooschoolforcool95 ~ @too-schoolforcool

Ghosts of a South Side Christmas: After a fight on Christmas Eve, Mickey and Ian spend some time apart. Mickey gets a little hope and learns to be brave while Ian learns more about his crush.

🌟 sam_writes_fics ~ @sam-loves-seb

you make my dreams come true: post-canon: ian and mickey host their first thanksgiving

🌟 sweetbee78 ~ @sweetbee78

The Reunion: ... The ski resort that the reunion is held at looses power, Ian and Mickey are then sharing close quarters. Ian does tell him what had happened after high school; they agree to start over. Mickey finds out Ian was originally planning on hooking up with someone else...

Not So Secret Santa: Ian and Mickey are co-workers and are each other’s Secret Santa. Mickey is a manager at a financial company while Ian is a temp who was hired to work in the call centre.

🌟 NotAWriterButITry

What If?: What if Mickey was released from prison in season 7 instead of escaped? What if Ian found out because he got a call to the Milkovich house and Mickey turned out to be their patient? What if Ian has to choose between his new life with Trevor, or his old life with Mickey?

🌟 commonthugs ~ @stocious

lava java: He's being really unprofessional. Mickey might not even be gay. He might be hitting on a straight man through takeout cups.

🌟 MaySunshine ~ @honeyvanillin

Apple Tart and Salted Caramel: Stoneridge is a small but very picturesque town on the edge of the state. Surrounded by majestic mountains to the north, icy ocean waters to the west and impenetrable forests to the east, it is safely sheltered from tourists and GPS....

All Roads Lead to Rome: This story is about the breath of life with the berry aftertaste of Passito di Pantelleria wine, about the transience of time with lemon notes of magnolia blossoms, about the thrill of first kisses with the cool sweetness of creamy Gelato.

Lead the Way, Jedi: "Me?" the mechanic exhaled, mostly surprised that the Jedi had chosen to entrust him, a throwback from the filthy depths, with his droid buddy. "I'm sure you, proud droid dad, can handle it just fine. It's no big deal."

🌟 Itsuki59 ~ @shinygalaxyperson

Where is my Jell-O?: A conversation about the past makes our boys horny.

On His knees: Day 11 - “Open your mouth.” Ian definitely wants to try the glory hole. (Gallavich Kinktober 2022) Home at last: Day 29 - punishment X “Suck on my fingers and get them nice and wet for me"Ian wants to spend some quality time with his husband (Gallavich Kinktober 2022)

You are Mine: Usually, I don’t care about humans. I hunt them, bite them, kill them and throw them away in some sordid place. But not him. I don’t know what makes Mickey Milkovich so special.

🌟 roseapothecarys ~ @babygirlmickey

Designs on You: At twenty-four, Ian has just moved out of his family home to live on his own for the first time. Working as a paramedic, he’s finally happy, stable, and moving forward with his life. But first, there’s one last remnant of his past self that he needs to let go of: his accidental porn tattoo of his late mother. It’s nothing but a reminder of all the bad decisions he’s made. At his best friend Mandy’s behest, he makes an appointment with her brother who has just opened a tattoo shop nearby. Upon arriving for his consultation, he meets Mickey: intimidating, foul-mouthed, overall living up to the Milkovich name, yet somehow running a clean, professional, and legal business.

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

HnM have now made a document on every single one of Harry's PR/personal brand talking points -

1. Mental health and ptsd - apple doc

2. His family and how mean they are to him (+his love story, which is the most best love story ever) - Oprah, Netflix

3. Invictus and veterans - live to lead on Netflix

4. Polo - being filmed now

5. Commonwealth link - the random one with world leaders, on Netflix, which noone watched

6. Africa (which supposedly was given a go-ahead, but let's see about this one)

Most of their money has also come from these above ventures. And I'm assuming this would count as their joint financial assests. So I am now wondering what Harry has left to offer Meghan beyond 2025. I'm assuming that's when the Polo show would air. And that money would be in their pockets by end of 2024 at the latest.

I won't hedge any bets on Meghan's Roop success or podcast bringing in any money. But ... And this is huge ... Once he is done bringing in any big bucks, and his potential for doing runs dry, that's when I'd say Meghan's interest in him will start to decrease. She has already started laying the foundation for setting him up as a dud husband/father. So, logically speaking, do you think she will officially start the separation PR?

Nothing will bring her bigger eyeballs than becoming Harry's hapless victim on worldstage. And she has been very predictable up until now with her public behavior towards people. And if she launches Roop then she will need the eyeballs.

There's also 1. His Visa issues 2. Diddy scandal 3. BRF discarding him publicly - that gives her all the more reason to do so now.

I don't know.

Harry's whole MO as a royal has been documentaries. He works a few weeks, does a documentary about it, spends the next 6 months doing jack shit, then he trots out War Hero Harry (via Invictus Games or Remembrance Day activities) and coasts on that till it's time to make a new documentary. Rinse and repeat.

As long as people keep giving Harry money to make documentaries (and they will, because he's Prince Harry), Meghan will stick by him. She'll demand to be included in them, he'll agree to it because she probably punishes him if he doesn't.

[darklydeliciousdesires]

London Will Burn - Chapter Sixteen.

Here it is, besties. The final chapter. Thank you so much to everyone who took the time to read and offer such warm words of encouragement along the way. They mean the world to me! :)

Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen Fifteen

Tag list - In the comments, please DM to be added/removed

Words - 3,910

Warnings - 18+ content throughout. Minors DNI.

“So, where has the ginger twat taken my granddaughter today, then?” 

Rin closed her eyes, counting to ten in her head. “Woburn Safari Park. She told him how much she was missing all the animals back in Africa, so he said he’d take her to where she could see a few of the same.”  

It was becoming tiresome, her mother’s unchanged attitude regarding the father of her child. “Mum, you honestly have to stop being so hostile towards him. It shan’t be good, going forward, with him being in our lives to the extent that he will be. I’m not asking you to like him, but a little civility wouldn’t go amiss.”  

Diane was resolute, crispy turning the next page in the copy of Hello magazine before her on the island. “I will never be anything close to civil with that piece of shit.”  

This did not bode well. Not since she and Sean were... well, Rin wasn’t entirely sure what they were, exactly. Dating? Co-parenting with extras until he earned her trust? They’d been out a couple of times by that point, two dates the week before, one that had ended up in a sleepover at his place. Not that they’d slept much. God, he’d given her such a thorough shagging, she was still glowing from it four days on.  

Yes. It was dating, she had to admit that it was. Furthermore, she was enjoying every second of it, when her guard slipped enough for her to do so.  

“It’s a pity that you can’t put your own feelings aside for Tiger’s sake,” she spoke, continuing to do her stretches. She and Sokoro were off for a run, Rin glad to have a Saturday morning to herself to do it at a reasonable hour for once, enjoying a blissful lie in until 8am that morning as opposed to being out of the house by 6am.  

Her mother viewed her through shrewd eyes, cocking her head slightly. “Is it purely for Tiger’s sake, Catherine?” The slight colouring of her daughter’s cheeks sealed it, though Rin did not utter a single word. “Oh, for heaven’s sake! You’re not, are you? With him?” 

She was not in the mood for verbal combat that morning, but it looked like she was about to foray into it all the same. “I am, yes. I’m seeing how it goes with him. He’s genuinely sorry, mum, and I do see that. I need to get to a place of trust with him, though, and he told me he intends to prove himself there.” 

“But what he did to you!” 

“Is seven years in the past,” she interjected with, lifting her leg to the stool before her to tighten her shoelaces. “He would have absolutely nothing to gain from trying to be nefarious all over again. He has what he wants. I elevated him, made him rich and powerful once more, and he knows only too well what would happen to him, should he attempt to upset the apple cart. I do believe he is earnest, but I want to see if for myself.” 

Diane snorted, lifting her coffee cup to her lips. “I think you’re barmy.” 

“Yeah?” Lifting her chin, she pulled the laces sharply, double knotting the bow. “And I think, mum, with all the respect in the world, it’s none of your bloody business. Look how far I’ve come under my own merit and judgement. I am not an eighteen-year-old any longer who fell in love with a man she shouldn’t have, a man who had the agenda of his father pressing upon him. Finn is gone; it’s just Sean now. Believe me, he isn’t his dad.”  

“Wouldn’t have lost it all in the first place if he was.” Rin realised that she wasn’t going to get anywhere with her mother, so simply kissed her cheek and told her she’d be back later, heading out to find Sokoro in the courtyard, lightly jogging in place.  

“Let us depart now, eh, boss? Let’s run past the palace, wave to the King and Queen on our way!” Ever since arriving in London, her dear friend had been hellbent on getting a glimpse of the royal family. He’d scared a poor woman half to death one time while in Waitrose, asking very loudly if she was the Princess of Wales. She had not been, merely bearing a very uncanny resemblance to Princess Catherine. 

“So, I hear you and your mother having shouting's this morning before we leave, eh?”  

Having shouting’s. How she loved his turns of phrase. “We were, yes. We indeed had words with one another.”  

“Over the ging... over Sean, yes?”  

She liked that, that at least Sokoro was trying hard not to be hostile towards the father of her child, no matter how protective he was of her and Tiger. “Yes, over Sean. She’s very hardheaded, my mother. What kills me is the fact I think even my dad would have softened by now, and you know how ferocious he could be.” 

Sokoro raised his eyebrows, wiping his clammy forehead on the back of his arm. “Kevin was nothing if not a force to be reckoned with, eh?” Pausing as they turned the corner, beginning to run down The Mall approaching Buckingham Palace, he then continued. “But I do agree, eh, I think that he would see how much he has taken to the role of Tiger’s father and not condemn him as your mother does. He ah, he did say something to me, back when she was a baby.”  

Immediately, she slowed, jogging in place. “What?” 

Sokoro looked uncomfortable, like he wished he’d have thought on his last sentence prior to its delivery. “Ah, I should probably not say, eh. Even though he is gone, I do not want to betray your father’s confidentiality.” 

“Bollocks,” she spoke strongly, her eyes widened a fraction. “I’m here, he’s not. Tell me.” 

Sokoro shook his head, his own in place jogging coming to a halt. “Okay, okay. We break here. It has been five kilometres.” Moving to a bench at the side of The Mall, he took a seat, swigging from his bottle of water.  

“Your father, after Tiger was born, he pull me aside and he tell me all about it, how she came to be, how Sean betrayed you, etcetera. He tell me he was not only heartbroken for you because he know you love the man who got you pregnant despite what you tell him to the contrary, but because he always like Sean.  

“He tell me he see him as perfect suitor for you, before all the shit with the sex video, eh. He tell me that if he ever could see you with anyone, it was Sean Wallace, because you are both so similar. But he say most of all, he see you with him because Sean would never stop you from being who you are. We stood outside of the lodge and I remember, he say he wanted to tell him about the baby, because he thought it might change him for the better, make him a good man for you again, but he would not do that to you, not ever. But he say it, Catherine.”  

His words hit her square in the chest, the opinion her father held in secret. He’d wanted them to be together, but for the sake of her heart in all its damage done by Sean, never told anyone that other than Sokoro. It left her feeling like something was opening up within her, letting the light in to where she had been shadowed and jaded for the last seven years.  

Her father, as it happened, was not as hardened as she’d thought. He’d seen the true Sean too at some point. He’d known that the man he was, and the one he was moulded into by Finn were truly not the same person.  

“Did he say anything else?” she pressed with, Sokoro shrugging lightly. 

“He say he hate him for what he did to you, this is natural of course, eh. But he also say he know he put him between a rock and a hard place, and with the weight of Finn Wallace bearing down on him, he know, and I quote, “the kid cracked under the pressure, and made my Catherine the fall when I doubt he really wanted to.” I think your dad, he see the same you do in Sean. A man who did what he did so he did not sink under the greater weight.”  

It was hard to take in, the enormity of what Sokoro was telling her. Part of her wanted to shred him to pieces verbally for keeping it from her for so long, but most of her saw clearly that he was simply being a man of his word. Her father had shared his thoughts in secret with him, and Sokoro was nothing if not a bona fide confidant.  

In all of this, her father’s opinion was something she had desperately wished she could call upon, to know if she was doing the right thing. Now, she had it. It wasn’t first hand, but she knew now that should her dear dad have still been with them, he’d have likely welcomed her and Sean finding a way back to one another. 

“Are you okay?”  

Sokoro’s question roused her from the daze she’d fallen into, Rin shaking herself with a small smile as she turned to him. “I am, you know. I really am.” 

“Come on, let us continue. I feel Queen Camilla at the windows waiting for my jolly smile and wave!” He nudged her with a soft elbow as she got up, laughing and sipping her water before on they continued towards the palace. Their jog landed them back at Mulford Hall just before 10:30am, both immediately heading upstairs to take a shower each, Rin returning to hear the usual Kenyan merriment in the kitchen. 

“What are you lot giggling about?” she asked, moving to the fridge to get out some fruit and yogurt, Sokoro, Marcus and Silas all sitting around the island, huge grins fixed in place. 

“We are discussing the slang of your motherland, boss,” Marcus spoke, still partially hissing with laughter. “We see on Twitter somebody call Donald Trump a fuck billed twattypus and we all say, it could have been you! It sounds like something you say!” 

“We learn so many British cusses from you. Knob, shit bag, twat, bloody fucking bastard,” Silas then weighed in with, counting them off on his fingers as he chuckled with glee.  

“Or when she call you twat waffles and you thought it is some kind of British breakfast cereal,” Sokoro chimed, Marcus waving his hands in dismissal as the men roared.  

“It sounds like it, though! I had no idea that twat was slang for the female anatomy until we met Catherine!” he laughed, Rin in absolute stitches as she closed the fridge door. They kept her entertained as she went about preparing her breakfast, Sokoro sorting himself and the other guys with gigantic vegetable omelettes and toast.  

With a day to herself, she decided to relax before her masseuse arrived, Jenna giving her a much-needed rub down and easing of tension from her locked up back, several knots clicking and cracking under her expert hands. It was a day of pure bliss, her child not arriving back until 7pm, Sean stating that he was also taking her to the museum and out for dinner as well, carrying a very sleepy Tiger into the house. He looked completely shattered himself.  

“I’ll take her,” Diane bustled coldly, fixing him with a glare. No, Rin’s words hadn’t sunk in any further. Luckily, Sean didn’t react with any negativity whatsoever. 

“Thank you, Diane. It’s nice to see you again, you’re looking very well.”  

She turned away from him, her lips slightly pursed. “I wish I could say the same.”  

He winced. “Ouch.”  

Rin reached for his face, giving him a kiss. “Maybe one day she might finally thaw.” While he expected as much from her mother, he did note that Rin seemed to be behaving more freely with him, making the first move to offer affection. “So, did you and our baby have a good day?”  

Right on cue, he yawned. “A tiring one. I’ve been up since 5am, she decided she couldn’t sleep so we took Butch for a walk for an hour, one I ended up carrying her on my back for half of before dropping him off with Minnie for the day.” Hugging her, he rested his chin on her head, Rin laughing softly at the fake snoring noises he began making. “She has abundant energy, though. I don’t know how you cope full time.” 

Emerging from beneath his chin, she smoothed her hands down his chest. “I’m used to it, as you’ll become, too. Can I get you a coffee before you fall asleep on me?” 

He nodded, kissing her forehead. “Please.”  

“Alright, go and rest your weary bones.” He moved to the sitting room and she the kitchen, taking a seat on the sofa and beginning to browse his phone. It might have been a Saturday night, he might have been shattered, but he had a few work-related emails he needed to at least check in with, planning on putting in some time the following morning in his office at home to be nicely ahead for the coming working week.  

“Oh, you’re here.” Looking up, he met the narrowed eyes of Diane, the matriarch of the Cavanaugh household taking a seat on the adjacent sofa, eyeing him with her usual level of distain. 

“Hello again, Diane,” he smiled, attempting to at least be cordial with the woman. The truth was, he had little to no issue with her, but goodness, she certainly gripped tightly upon the grudge she held towards him. “How are you?” 

“I’d be much better if you weren’t here.”  

He expected little less than such hostility, but knew he couldn’t meet it like for like. “I understand that, I do. I will be here, though, in your lives. Your daughter and granddaughter are very important to me.” 

She picked up a copy of Tatler magazine from the coffee table, huffing as the pages were flicked through with mild irritation. “Until the next chance to use her in your quest for power presents itself. Men like you don’t change, Sean.”  

He felt his temper flicker into life, the corner of his mouth twitching. He wouldn’t let her spark it into roaring flame, though. She was probably trying deliberately to wheedle such a response from him, purely so she could point her finger. “As I explained to Catherine, I am in no position to do that. Your daughter has elevated me to my former status, more so, in fact. I have my company, I have my standing, and I have a hell of a lucrative income because of her. I don’t truly have what I want the most, though. Trust me, fucking her over would not be conducive to me attaining it.” 

“Oh, wouldn’t it?” she spoke, each word biting in its chilly delivery.  

“No,” he spoke with a shrug, his smile widening, “because what I want most is her. I love your daughter, perhaps the most honestly and genuinely I have ever loved anyone. Trust me, my intentions towards her are not what you assume them to be. Far from it.” 

He didn’t know, but out in the corridor, Rin stood, coffee in hand, grinning like an idiot to hear him coolly standing up to her mother. She might have known it already, but hearing him state that what he wanted most was her almost provoked a squeak of pure joy.  

“Well, I shan’t be doing that any time soon, Sean,” she bustled, just as Rin walked in. 

“That’s up to you, I suppose,” he replied, taking the coffee from Rin. “Thank you, darling. I think I might need three more just to stay awake. So, are you still coming with me when I go back up to Manchester on Thursday? We could take Tiger too, make a weekend of it once I am done with Friday’s meetings. We could take her to the art gallery, with her flair for the artistic I’m sure she’d enjoy it.” 

She beamed widely. “Yes, great idea, I’d love to. It’ll mean getting her out of her pit early, I suppose. I was surprised you told me she’s been up since five this morning, that child loves her kip.” 

“Isn’t this all so very cosy,” Diane muttered sarcastically, shaking her head. “Forgetting conveniently what that vile shit of a man did to you.” 

Rin’s hand clenched into a fist where she rested it upon Sean’s thigh, her eyebrows knitting as she sighed. “Which is a mistake he both admits and apologises for, mum. I’ve let it go. You need to as well.” 

“I can’t! Not when...” she began, the Tatler magazine cast aside. She didn’t get very far in her retort, though.  

“Enough, mum,” her daughter spoke, with quiet firmness as she stared at her. “That’s seriously enough, now. I’m sick of dealing with your attitude. What happens between Sean and I is honestly none of your business, and I am fucking tired of you making it just that. This is my life, you need to but out and stop treating me like a child. That’s the end of it. Sean, come on. Let's move locations.”  

He stood gladly, taking his coffee and following her out without further word, Diane sitting there floundering at being shot down so efficiently by her eldest child. “We both stood our ground with her, and didn’t raise our voices once,” he observed, moving up the grand staircase beside her, pausing to gulp back a little more coffee, save it spilling and Diane becoming furtherly vexed towards him.  

Rin raised her eyebrows. “We must be growing up, at last.” Arriving in her bedroom, she swung the door open, walking through to where she’d had a little bit of a makeover of the large room, the former section dedicated to her desk and workout items over at the far side by her window now containing a small sofa and television set on the mantle above the fireplace. The space most definitely had more of a grown up feel to it than it had when Sean had been in there last. 

Sitting down beside her, he finished his coffee while they chatted on how best to handle her mother, both agreeing to be staunch without rising to her need to argue the toss constantly. The coffee was sadly no match for his tiredness, though, Sean waking with a start hours later to darkness, finding himself draped in a comfortable throw. The bed his sleeping love occupied looked much more comfortable.  

“I was wondering if I’d have a companion at some point,” she murmured, turning to cuddle up to his nakedness after he’d undressed and gotten under the covers. “What time is it?” 

“Half past two. I’d say time to go back to sleep, but I’m wide awake.” 

She grinned into the darkness as his hands felt their way to her, pulling her even closer, lifting her leg to rest over his hip. “Mmm,” she hummed, feeling the hard of his cock press against her abdomen. “Yes, you definitely are, aren’t you?” Her hand reached between them, curling around his cock, working him lazily as she felt the sleepiness slipping away, ducking her head to begin placing hot, open-mouthed kisses upon his neck.  

He lay there in a daze of sexual fog clouding him for a few moments, enjoying the feeling of what her hand evoked within before his own reached for her, stroking her softly, feeling her begin to dampen his fingers. Pushing them inside her, his mouth then founds hers, her teeth crushing a soft bite upon his lower lip. Those kisses, all sugared embers and need, began to gain rapid heat, hands working upon one another with more vigour until Sean turned her, slotting himself between her legs and arrowing into her fully with one fluid motion. 

She swallowed back his moans as their tongues swirled, her groin prickling pleasantly, nerve endings singing their bliss against the thick swell of his cock as he dragged her walls deftly. It was heavenly, wet velvet softly flexing around hot steel, their veins warming, Rin crying out softly at feeling him burying himself within her again and again.   

With his mouth at her neck, consuming her with such all-encompassing force, all that existed was him, that moment, the sound of his groans in her ear as his tongue glided across the column of her throat. Him, just him. He was all she wanted, and to hell with what her mother thought of that. 

Trembling against the lean bulk of his chest, the lightning bounced beneath her skin, the weight of him centring, driving himself into her plush wetness, causing moans she barely recognised to be hers. How she had longed for a lover with this kind of skill while they’d been parted, but beneath him there in her bed, she realised she could look forever but never find in a single other person what she had with Sean. 

His hips arrowed down purposefully, giving way to a slight rotation that had her floating in the stars, her fingers raking through his hair as she arched up against him, teeth nipping his thick shoulder as her nails grazed his back, digging in and clawing when he began to gain momentum.   

She was molten beneath him, singed by the wildfire of his fuck, her walls beginning to flutter around him as his soaking cock pounded her hard, mouth lowering to suck at her nipples, making her come apart beneath him with surging force, Sean coming just moments after her.  

They fell asleep that night entangled, swathed in the blanket of one another, Rin awaking early the following morning. The sunlight streamed in, the sound of the Westminster bells softly tolling, yawning as she stretched. Looking up, she was greeted by the sight of smiling blue eyes, shifting up a little to place a soft kiss upon his lips.  

There they were again, just as they had been seven years before. Sunday morning, bell song and sunshine.  

“I love you.”  

He smiled, kissing the tip of her nose. “Finally.”  

Finally, indeed.  

Finally, they had everything they’d been looking for. Finally, they had love and peace, and finally, although it took her almost two years after that morning to see that Sean was entirely genuine, they had Diane’s support. After all, the mother of the bride couldn’t very well have a sour face on at the wedding of her eldest daughter. Not after she’d bared witness to seeing just how happy the man waiting for her at the altar had truly made her.  

In fact, Diane’s tears of joy as they were pronounced husband and wife were the greatest of all the guests, watching Rin held tightly by her new husband, and the complete and utter adoration they viewed one another with. Neither noticed it, though, lost in one another as they kissed, Sean stroking her face with his thumbs as he rested his forehead to hers, repeating the word he had spoken two years prior, when they had truly reconnected. 

“Finally.”��

The End.