#Damned if we have kids damned if we don't have kids

[turtle-mama]

I normally don't reblog political issues (or anything in general) But this, right here, is the point of people being upset.

It's not just about individuals being terrified of having their rights taken away. People can lose family members because of hatred. Why should you care? Well. People aren't replaceable. This is not a video game. People's children WILL die because of Bigotry. Because of this idea of ALL HOLIER THAN THOU aditude. Just because it makes someone a little uncomfortable.

GOOD.

It should make you uncomfortable. Math makes me uncomfortable but I still had to learn how to do it. Did I do it well? No. Do I still not like math? Yes. But I understand it's part of every day life and I can't just say WELL I BELIEVE THIS WAY and it's magically fixed.

This is going to be a really controversial statement, but we have to be okay with other people's presences making us feel not okay. Unless you PHYSICALLY see them harming other people, Animals or themselves. DO. NOT. ENGAGE.

I can't stress this enough, LEAVE OTHER PEOPLE ALONE. STAY IN YOUR LANE. WORRY ABOUT YOUR OWN DAMN LIFE AND YOUR OWN FAMILY.

And if they are your own kids, FUCKING COMMUNICATE WITH THEM! They are just as confused if not more than you! Listen to them, talk to them! It's not weak for you to listen to your god damn child and any parent who wishes their child to DIE or any harm comes to them, you didn't love them in the first place!

Ahem. Let me say it louder.

IF YOU HATE YOUR CHILD FOR ANY REASON YOU DIDNT LOVE THEM IN THE FIRST PLACE.

You loved the idea of your children. Not actually being a parent. Grow up. You're lack of empathy for people, especially for your own children is the most vile and disgusting way of life.

Anyway, thanks for coming to my Ted talk.

My dad doesn’t talk about gender with me super often but he was saying that trans rights are the big issue with Trump being elected and I said “For me personally yeah” and he said “No, for all of us. Because you’re a part of this family and you’re a part of our lives.”

And… I don’t really have anything to add to that. I’m just glad my family loves me I suppose even if they do drive me crazy sometimes. Even if some things are looking bleak.

[lemurchick]

Every year on the tourist island of Borkum in Germany, locals organize a celebration called Klaasohm, the purpose of which is to beat women.

On December 5, unmarried male members of the prestigious association “Boys of Borkum” wear huge, up to a meter high, masks decorated with horns, fur and feathers. First there is a ritual fight in a closed hall, where only those born on the island are allowed. Photos and videos of the fight are forbidden.

The winner chooses his assistants and they scatter around the island hunting for women. Any woman who gets in their way will be beaten, I'm not kidding, with cow horns in which grain is poured for additional weight. Bruises remain for weeks. It's fun for men, and pain and humiliation for women.

This brutal tradition is believed to date back to the days of the whalers. They would return to their homes in the fall and beat their wives, reminding them who was in charge of the household. The custom has survived to this day, but outsiders are not told about it: the male population of the island does not want it to become known. Only about 5,000 people live on the island, and those who break the conspiracy of silence will face public condemnation and stigma. But some find the courage to speak out anonymously on social media:

Many islanders hate the festival and are forced to keep their mouths shut because of social pressure.

"As a Borkum native, I have been telling people for years that this actually still exists on the island and no one wants to believe me."

"Everyone has to participate, and those who don't want to, too. They're afraid they'll get hurt if they speak out."

"This island is a big village. I think everyone here knows how communities like this work. If you speak out against it, the whole town will talk about you, you will be ignored and sometimes persecuted. I've seen what it's like for people who have been ostracized. Many people are afraid, which is why this festival is not publicly criticized. The journalists will leave, but you'll still have a reputation as a traitor."

Defenders of the tradition argue that in order to avoid being beaten, women simply need to stay out of the house. However, there are many accounts of men letting the masked participants into houses and apartments or even pushing women out into the street.

For many years, information about the barbaric custom did not leak out. In 2018, journalists tried to report on Klaasohm, but they were literally kicked off the island. This year, however, almost all of Germany's leading media outlets covered what was happening on the island.

Faced with nationwide criticism, the mayor issued a statement emphasizing that “in order for Klaasohm to remain an important holiday and festival that shapes the identity of the people of Borkum, awareness must be kept low. It has always been the task of the association to maintain silence around this tradition. Please be respectful and do not spread the word.”

Borkum's Equal Opportunities Commissioner supported the statement, and the police noted that no woman has contacted law enforcement in the past five years. Perhaps this is because police officers, doctors, court officials and teachers are heavily involved in the festival and women realize that there is no point in coming for help from someone who held you down yesterday, subjecting you to beatings.

The statement from the Mayor's office only added fuel to the fire and within a day the Young Men of Borkum Association issued a new message:

"We categorically distance ourselves from any form of violence against women and apologize for what has happened in the past."

They also noted that the festival “is more than just a celebration - it is a living expression of our community and an integral part of life in Borkum. It is a time when the whole island comes together.”

As we know, nothing brings men together like hunting women.

(translated from russian channel (the author lives in Germany) Damn Ambivalence )

German Sources: video: Das Schweigen der Insel - Wenn Borkum Klaasohm feiert (https://www.ardmediathek.de/video/panorama-die-reporter/das-schweigen-der-insel-wenn-borkum-klaasohm-feiert/ndr/Y3JpZDovL25kci5kZS8xMzExXzIwMjQtMTEtMjYtMjEtMTU) Hei kummt Klaasohm! (https://www.mare.de/hei-kummt-klaasohm-content-446?srsltid=AfmBOooQQfoiSEBEKzBp1VL0M4ZXkMh_bo3jlfz-vy7IUJOjfxmDLfTS)

Wirbel um „Klaasohm“: Wird Frauen auf Borkum der Hintern versohlt? (https://www.rnd.de/wissen/klaasohm-skandal-auf-borkum-maskierte-maenner-jagen-frauen-tradition-oder-problem-44QIIXJFZNB4JNI4L6LWUNUFSM.html)

Wie ist das Klaasohm-Fest auf Borkum wirklich? (https://www.stadt-borkum.de/index.php?object=tx,3480.5.1&ModID=7&FID=3480.34396.1)

Der Klaasohm – Brauchtum auf Borkum (https://www.dein-niedersachsen.de/regionen/klaasohm/)

Klaasohm-Fest auf Borkum künftig ohne Schläge? (https://www.ndr.de/fernsehen/sendungen/panorama/aktuell/Borkum-Frauen-Schlagen-bei-Klaasohm-soll-abgeschafft-werden,klaasohm106.html)

[nsharks]

bleeding blue | part twenty-two preview

Five days. They're still here. You realize what's taking them so long; they're collecting food, drying meat into jerky and simmering wild strawberries into jams that Nereida cans. They have quite a lot of supplies with them. One of Kyle's backpack's is filled with ammo and another is stuffed with medicine. 

Kyle is easy to talk to. Nereida, too. Price—however—seems like he doesn't know what to think of you. Or maybe you're too insignificant to have crossed his mind much. 

That's fair. You don't need to all be friends.

Blue seems to like Ari. He's thirteen, two years older than her, which is evident in the way her head reaches his shoulders. She doesn't even say hi to you in the morning. Instead she shows him all her magazines and even the rabbits. He decides to name one Rocky, a friend for Grim. You can't be bothered; she needs another friend. Ghost isn't keen about them alone together, though. You heard him mutter to Kyle—keep an eye on him, Gaz.

The threat of summer starts to invite more and more sweat down your neck. Your hair has gotten so long. After tossing and turning on Ghost's bedroom floor, it became a nest of tangles. When Nereida, Ari, and Blue go for a dip in the pond, you go with them and soak it, then let the water settle so you can stare at your reflection. Blade sharpened, you saw a few inches off. Better. More practical. 

"I thought you were going to cut more," Blue comments.

"I don't want it that short, or else it's harder to braid."

As the two kids keep swimming, Nereida finds bunches of rosemary and seems more excited than you'd be about it. 

"It helps fight off odors," she explains when you ask. "Like when I have my period, so the Greys can't smell it as much."

When she puts it that way, you grab some, too. Then you start wondering about her and John. Do they have sex? They must. You've seen the way they are. Kisses to their shoulder and neck, arms around each other's waist. You've stared a few times only to catch yourself and quickly look away. How do they avoid pregnancy? You highly doubt either of them want to bring a new child into the world. You wouldn't.

Ari and Blue lay in the sun together. You scoot away to give them space, but overhear some of their conversation, anyway.

"Your dad is so cool."

Blue plays with a piece of her hair. "Oh? You think so?"

"Have you seen him? He's a beast. My uncle told me he got his name because no one could see him coming before he killed them."

"He can be a pain in my ass sometimes," Blue mutters. Her nose scrunches. "But he's taught me a lot of things. I'm pretty good with knives."

"Damn, I gotta see that."

She is beaming. "I'll show you when we get back."

Then, she leans over and whispers something in his ear. Whatever it is, he smiles and shakes his head in response.

She pulls away, sighing. "I wish you guys could just stay here."

Or maybe your dad will make us go with them, you think to yourself. In a way, it's comforting, that he is secretive with her, too. He still hasn't brought up the topic again. Either he hasn't decided, or he doesn't actually plan on keeping you updated. You try your best not to ruminate, but it's hard not to, especially when you have a hard time falling asleep on floorboards and are left with your thoughts in the dark. 

Which is why you're not feeling thrilled by the time you go into his room. He's already lying in bed, one hand bent behind his head while the other props open a book. He looks comfortable. Almost normal, even.

"How do you sleep with the mask on?" you remark, kicking off your shoes. 

His eyes lift from the page briefly. "Like a baby."

"How come Kyle has seen you without it and not me?"

His jaw flexes. "Jealousy doesn't suit you, Twix."

"And mental sanity doesn't suit you."

A light huff. Then, "Nice haircut."

When the room is dark, Ghost must get tired of hearing you toss and turn. He flicks on the small lamp, and you squint from the sudden light, stuffing the pillow over your head. There's shuffling before a hand rips the pillow from your face and tosses it onto the bed.

"Just get in the fucking bed. I won't bite." The sight of him standing above you, sweatpants low on his hips, consumes your vision. His voice is low but demanding.

"What, together?"

"I want good sleep. M'not going to get it on the floor, or listening to you up all night, so get in." His eyes peer down at you, half-lidded, before he lowly adds, "I'll be a gentleman, if you're worried."

You lift up and ignore the offer of his hand. "I'm not worried."

To protest would be embarrassingly juvenile when both him and you know you want to sleep there. Yet—your heart thickens. He watches as you crawl into the bed where the ceiling slants, tucking yourself under the quilt and curling against the very edge so that your knees float over it. The springs groan to your left and then heady warmth spills over you. Ghost keeps to his side, flat on his back, with his hands lying on his chest. His elbow pokes into your back no matter how carefully you try to inch away, and his thigh just barely brushes against your backside. 

The bastard doesn't say a word, nor does he make an effort to give you more space so you screw your eyes shut and fall asleep to the sound of his breathing. 

[niechys]

I'm sorry. I'm so not sorry but also so so so sorry. But I can't stop thinking about it.

from @keferon tf mecha universe

(Also if you don't want me tagging you please do tell. I didn't want to bother, just want to credit cuz it's glorious)

it's because of this post.

Happened after This event

I'm sorry in advance for all the grammatical errors.

I also don't know wo else would be the science guy to take this position of explaining the thing. I feel like there has to be someone else that's not Shockwave too. Sorry to all of Brainstorm's fans out there. I think he's not a bad guy. Just too excited for the possibilities.

---------------------------------

Something lingers inside that mech. Although there is no hard evidence of a human soul or spirit or ghost haunting it, most people who had anything to do with Vortex agreed that it was best to believe its first pilot never leave the cockpit of his mech. After all, nothing else would explain the freak accidents constantly killing all but the latest pilot.

Human are prone to be superstitious. It's normal to believe in something like ghost in the machine, really.

But one would not think a man of sciences such as Shockwave would take the rumors seriously. No one knows if the scientist really believe it or not. He

Regardless of the rumors' validity, it sure did inspired him.

"You're kidding me" Swindle stood, blinked, looked at the incomplete repair of Blurr's mech then back to the technician in front of him. Brainstorm was prattling on at speed faster than Blurr's F1 record.

"Not kidding. Why would I kid? This is a great breakthrough. Lives can be saved and there are much we could do with the tech, I don't know why it never occurs to me or Shockwave that the neural link tech could have been used in this way---"

Swindle turned his brain off during all the scientific mumbo jumbo all and only really heard him again at "It's nothing all that weird really. Some people disagree, but you can't go against Shockwave when he put his mind to it. If you think about it, it's just like Vortex"

"What?" Swindle blinked again.

"Vortex. That mech, I mean the mech's first pilot, crazy psycho, crazy good at slicing up kaijus"

"I know who Vortex was. I worked here when he started piloting. What did that asshole has to do with this?"

"Oh, everything. If, a big if. If that guy's consciousness was still in the mech like people been saying"

"Haunted" Crossing his arms, he narrowed his eyes at Brainstorm. The technician corrected him.

"Lingering consciousness. Either way, Blurr is in much better shape than Vortex. Brain still intact . So is most part of his body. We wired him to the neural link to allow him control of the mech. So when we are ready, he can still go about his task from within that mech"

"What . The . Fuck"

Swindle's eyebrow twitched. No, it's NOTHING like Vortex's case. The asshole died and probably refused to leave this world. Blurr, on the other hand, was still alive. Sure he wouldn't be the same. Maybe he would be scarred for life, paralyzed from the waist down or something. But hardwiring a person to a mech?

"So, you were working with Blurr before now, correct? That's why we would like to bring you in as his handler. Not like you have to do maintenances and stuff, just take care of him and, the publicity and all that. Like being his manager" With that, Brainstorm handed him a folder before excusing himself.

The guy wasn't bad most of the time, Swindle thought. But sometimes, just sometimes, his passion for science overshadowed the moral compass.

Like how he wished that his own greed would take precedented in his state of mind. They must have thought he would jump at the chance to milk more profit from Blurr. Hell, he wouldn't be feeling this bad if that was the case.

He wanted to refuse. Profit be damn, even he didn't feel right. Blurr saved them. He should be allowed to preserved his humanity, his dignity. Not preserving his brain in a jar inside a mech. If the pilot died and the mech is reparable, you find a new pilot. If the pilot lived but can no longer pilot, you also find a new pilot. Not..this.

But refusing means they will bring someone else on board to manage Blurr. He's pretty sure he wouldn't like that.

Fuck

------------------

**note. Blurr is not reduced to brain in a jar. Most of his body is intact, just hard wired to the mech.

I tink they can add robot parts to him later all stuff. But since they probably value Blurr as a money cow pilot first. If they can't use his face, they can still use his mech.

Sorry again ehehehehehehehehehe

[thebestsetter]

This is exactly what you both needed after a tough week.

Just you and your boyfriend of two years, Oliver Aiku, spending an afternoon together with no prying eyes, nosy reporters or loud teammates to interfere. Just you and him and him and you, cuddling the day away and talking nonsense with eachother.

You were also talking about something serious tho. Something very serious: your future together.

"And then we can have a dog- no, a cat" you smiled, tracing his nose with one of your hands and booping it

"Why not both?" He grabbed your hand that just messed with his nose and held it firmly, kissing the inner part of your arm and then caressing the part where he laid his lips with his thumb. "I think we'll have space for both at our mansion"

"Sure" you laughed, burying your face in between his neck and shoulder "But I'll only move in with you after marriage"

"What? Why?" He fake-panicked, and then sighed in relief "Good thing I'm planning to put a ring on your finger very soon"

You hid your face deeper, trying (and failling) to hide the blushing mess you just became

"Good." You smiled, kissing his cheek

"Honestly, darling" he began, looking at you with only pure, raw love in his eyes "I can't wait to be able to call you Mrs. Oliver"

You felt like a silly lovesick girl, giggling and all that. You just loved your boyfriend too much, and you also couldn't wait to be called...

Wait.

Hold up.

Hold the fuck up.

"What" you raised your head in disbelief and stared at him dead in the eyes "What did you just say?"

"What's wrong?" He asked, confused "You don't want to get married to me?"

"No!" You shouted, making him pout "No... I mean, it's not that. It's just that... what's your first name?"

"Aiku"

"So your family name is..."

"Oliver??" He asked, confused

But you weren't confused. Oh no no.

You were having the time of your life. You were delighted. In fact, you were so awestruck at the information you just discovered that your instant reaction was laugh.

It started of as a giggle, and then it became a strong, loud roar.

"...I don't get it" Aiku said

"HAHAHAHAHH OLIVER"

You were literally crying. You couldn't explain why, but it was just too funny

After almost 5 minutes just laughing, you felt Aiku pushing you off of him

"Wow. Okay." He said, getting up from the couch "You wounded me."

"W-where are you going?" You said, wiping away some tears

"To the side hoes" he answered with an angry pout on his face "I bet they'd be delighted to be Mrs. Oliver"

"We both know damn well you don't have those after you started dating me..." he raised an eyebrow at that "...right?"

"Believe whatever you want. I'm going away since you hate me and don't want to marry me."

"Hey! Come back!" You also got up, quickly running to him and hugging his back "Babe, I'm kidding. I'd love to be Mrs. Oliver"

"...really?"

"Yes!" He turned around, now facing you with a serious expression "I'd love to be your wife, babe. Even if I have to be known as Mrs. Oliver. I don't mind, as long as I'm with you"

He seemed to ignore the last part, since he smiled hard after you said that.

"Well then, don't mind if I ask you to marry me right now!" he said, hugging you and spinning you around, earning a smile from you

"But our kids are definitely gonna get my surname" you added

"Hey!" He scowled playfully "Take that back right now!"

"Nope"

"Well then... you shall suffer the consequences of your words!"

"Aiku, babe, what are you talking about... don't."

"Watch me." He said, running after you and trying to tickle you

Your laughs echoed through the whole building. Maybe this is what love looked like. Maybe loving someone was making sacrifices for them.

Maybe that's why, 1 year later, you did get the Oliver family surname. And maybe that's why you wore it proudly, even if it was kinda silly: it meant you loved someone, and they loved you back. What's to be ashamed in that?

Your kids really got your family name though. Lucky them!

~ A/N: Random idea. WHY IS HIS NAME AIKU.

Masterlist

[chaotic-mystery]

Code Red | Chapter Eleven: I Only See Daylight

Pairing: No outbreak AU dbf!Joel Miller x f!OC (told in 2nd POV)

Summary: You're back in Texas after going on vacation with Joel and needless to say, shit hits the fan.

Content Warnings: 18+ ONLY MDNI. Enemies to lovers, dads best friend Joel, age gap (readers in her twenties and Joel is in his forties), slow burn, written in 2nd POV, no use of y/n, broken father/daughter relationship, daddy issues, dd/lg relationship dynamic, serious conversations about kid(s), allusions to sex & taking photos during sex, swearing, mentions of drinking, reader smokes & sometimes Joel, A new song introduced to the universe!, hidden relationship, Joel wanting to fight your dad, the start of everything falling apart. Texts shared between reader & Joel.

Authors Note: Here we are. I know I haven't touched this story since May 14th and I'm not done with them quite yet. I plan to write ahead moving forward so I don't leave anyone on a cliffhanger. This is 100000% not beta'd (I didn't want to burden anybody) so the mistakes are all moi. There's little eggs hidden of when this was written and I hope you giggle when you catch them. Thank you if you're still reading their story, I don't plan on leaving again <3

|| wc: 4.8K || divider by @/anitalenia || previous chapter || series masterlist || main masterlist ||

It had been a few days since that night Sharon came by and woke you up at two in the morning, sticking her nose in your business about Joel. 

She was only worried about your dad finding out and how he would react, she said she didn’t tell your mom and nothing seemed different when you went over to her house to drive into town to shop, but it was eating away at you if she was actually putting on a show just like you had been. 

Sharon warned you to be safe and reminded you she was there if you needed anything but the way she was going about this worried you. She failed to mention how you should break it to  Sarah and you hadn’t even begun to think about how to have that conversation with her. Do you just…show up on the porch one day and tell her you’ve been seeing her dad for almost the past year?

 Scratch that, that’s a terrible idea. It was a conversation to be had with Joel and the last thing you wanted was to feel like you were replacing her as the number one woman in his life. All you ever dealt with as a kid was your dads girlfriends making it feel like a competition for who he loved the most and unfortunately you were never a first place winner. 

“Honey? Do you like this?” Your mom’s voice becomes clearer as you’re once again yanked from the seat inside your thoughts to the present time. 

The bright green hoodie she was holding up was so bright you damn near needed sunglasses just to lay eyes on it. Every muscle in your face fights to make a disgusted look but knowing your mom would be upset, you keep a straight face and quickly scan the metal racks surrounding you for a different option to counter it. Like a magnet, the pink hoodie with chunky writing on the back nearly jumps off the hanger and into your arms. 

“I think this one is a little more me, you think?” 

She nods her head and takes it from you, throwing it over her bent arm in front of her body. She told you to pick out something from the souvenir shop and she’d pay for it, also meaning to find something for Joel. What could he possibly want from here? He wasn’t really a hoodie kind of guy, especially not down in Texas when he was outside practically all the time. He had more than enough trucker hats to last him the rest of his life. 

“So tell me more about Joel, sweetheart, what’s his normal life like?” 

“Well, he’s my boss but that happened after we started dating. Umm, I mean he’s my neighbor which was also before we started dating, promise I didn’t move closer to him just because we’re together.”

Your mom nods with a small smile, her face relaxing as you soothe her mind in knowing she taught you well not to move so fast with someone you hardly know.

“He um, he’s got a kid..” you scratch your head and spin around to look at the clothes behind you, her eyes burning into the back of your skull. “..it’s really not that big of a deal, I don’t think. I haven’t really met her yet. I don’t want her to feel like I’m trying to replace her mom or take her dad from her.” The quiver in your voice surprises you both and your mom spins you back around, rubbing your arm caringly. 

You were terrified, truthfully. Telling Sarah about your relationship scared the shit out of you. Even thinking about Joel asking you to be responsible with Sarah scared the life from you. 

“Mommy, I’m so scared. What if she doesn’t like me and he breaks up with me? I mean, I wouldn’t want him to stay with me if she’s unhappy about it. I just…I love him.” Your voice was just above a whisper and the words felt as if they were slicing your throat on the way out. 

She says nothing as her lips pursed together into a frown and pulls you into her arms, hugging you tightly. Once more you felt like a little girl needing the comfort of your mother when things got tough. 

“You’ll be okay, I know it. Listen to me-” her hands grip your face to keep eye contact with you before she continues. “-you know better than anyone what that feels like and you’d do anything to protect that little girl, even if that means not seeing him anymore. You don’t have it in you to be that cruel. Just be yourself and she’ll see how happy you make him.”

Hearing testaments about your character always made you feel weird inside. It was never easy hearing how other people see you, especially when it’s positive. You look at her and she smiles assuringly before kissing the top of your forehead.

“Come on, let’s find something for Sarah.”

_

Holding onto the little beaded keychain in your hand, your mom pulls up to the quaint cabin you unfortunately had to say goodbye to tomorrow and she rubs your arm softly. 

“You’ll be okay, sweetheart. Just be honest with him about your feelings with this. It’s all valid.” 

You breathe in deeply and release the air out of your mouth, nodding at her. 

“I’ll be fine, I just need to go see him. I love you, I’ll stop by on the way to the airport.” 

You hated goodbyes. So it wasn’t saying goodbye to her, it was just telling her you’d see her later. You kiss her cheek and grab your bag of goodies from between your legs on the floor before getting out, standing out of the way so she could pull off. Jiggling the plastic bag in your hand nervously, you dig around in your purse until you feel the smooth carton of cigarettes and lighter clanking around inside.

The gray flint rubs against the pad of your thumb as you ignite the cigarette held between your lips, walking up to the small wooden porch to sit in the white rocking chair under the window. Too many thoughts about Sarah and all the ways she could react flood your thoughts again as you take a big drag to erase it all. Joel pushes the screen door open just enough to slip through and he nudges your knee gently. 

“Hungry? Made BLT sandwiches if you want one.” Joel presses a kiss to your cheek before taking the cigarette from between your fingers and taking a drag. 

“Tempting, maybe. I got you something from town, though!” You try to make it seem like you weren’t bothered by anything but he could read you like a goddamn book.

You were his favorite one.

His eyes fell to the bright blue shirt you were pulling out of the plastic bag, chuckling to himself before he even got to see the design. You finally get it out and flip it towards him so Joel could see what you picked out for him. 

“You’ve gotta be shittin’ me. This is awesome.” 

Joel’s fingers trace over the goofy design of the state drawn as an old fashioned cartoon with feet holding it up and bright yellow letters across the top. He stares at the piece of clothing for longer than normal, continuously rubbing over the painted letters. The thought of you buying it for him, spending the time to find something he would wear, it meant a lot to him and it was written all over his face. 

“Thank you, baby. I love it.”

Joel sets it in the chair next to you and places both hands on either side of your chair, leaning down until he’s eye level with you. 

“My pretty girl, what’re you thinkin’ about in here?” As he finishes saying his sentence he bumps his forehead into yours, resting them together comfortably. 

Joel turns his face to the side for a moment to take another drag of the shared cigarette and he blows the smoke quickly to return back in position. Your eyes close as you relax against his touch, the slight breeze rustling against the trees and drowning out the sound of your mind screaming at you. The dooming thoughts of Sarah knowing about this could wait, you were here with the man of your dreams, having the time of your life and it was the last night before you had to unfortunately return to Texas and go back to hiding something you were so proud of. 

“I just wish we could run away somewhere where we don't have to hide our relationship. Where I can walk into the grocery store with you and not worry about still holding your hand, wondering if someone who knows my dad is gonna turn the corner and see it. I just- I want to love you loudly like you deserve. You aren’t meant to be a secret.”

Joel’s right hand rests on your crossed leg, rubbing your calf to ease you. 

“I’ll give you everything you could ever want and more, I swear it. How much time do I have to give it to you, though?” 

“I’ve got enough time for you, Miller. Not too long though, I’m not a patient person, ya know.” 

The thought of waiting an eternity for Joel Miller didn’t sound so bad, at least not to you. 

Every now and then you would get this feeling in your stomach thinking about Joel and how much you really did care for him and love him. It wasn’t a feeling you could quite pinpoint. The depth of sadness would overcome you just at the idea of losing him, knowing one day his footsteps wouldn’t grace this earth anymore. It was always sitting in the back of your mind, poking at you to love whatever time you got with him, because one day there wasn’t going to be this. 

“I love you, you know that?” Joel asks and kisses your lips before you can answer. 

The kiss quickly turns passionate and he backs up with your lips still glued to his, your body carrying you with every step he takes into the house. Joel leads you to the bedroom and tosses you on the bed lovingly, admiring the way your beautiful eyes glowed in the golden ray of sunlight seeping through the flowy curtains. 

“Let’s enjoy our last night here, yeah?” 

You grab your camera from the pocket of your sundress and grin at Joel, the gears turning inside his mind as he catches on. 

“To our last night.” 

_

Running on a few hours of sleep and the coffee not doing its job in your body, you yawn again as your Uber pulls up to your moms house. This was the part you were dreading the most, seeing your mom torn up that you’re leaving again. 

“Cmon, Mom, I gotta get going!” The fake happy tone was so apparent but it was easier to keep her up in good spirits if you pretended to be okay. 

Your mom comes around the corner from the kitchen, her hand towel tossed over her shoulder as she always did when she was doing dishes. She wipes her hands dry and hugs you so tight it feels like your eyes are going to pop out. 

“I love you so much, mommy. I’ll call you when I get back to Texas and I’m home safe, I swear it.” Fuck, and just like that, the quiver in your voice makes you start to break and before you can collect yourself, tears slipping from your eyes.

“I love you more, my baby. Have a safe flight, okay? Who knows, maybe I’ll come see you for the holidays in a few months.” She laughs to keep herself from crying but it only goes so far before you can feel her body jolt with every sob. 

The tight grip of her arms around your neck makes you giggle between your tears and she squeezes you once more before letting you go, standing up straight to get a good look at you before letting you leave her again and go spread your wings back to your home. 

“Come on, you’ve got a plane to catch!” 

You take her hand in yours and walk to your Uber, Joel getting out immediately to give her a hug goodbye. As you circle around the back of the car to get inside, you can’t help but notice Joel and your mom having some sort of quiet conversation you weren’t privy to. Swallowing dryly and wanting so bad to know what they were talking about, you climbed into the backseat of the car to give them privacy. Though it bothered you enough to dig your fingernail into the side of your thumb, you knew deep down it wasn’t anything bad they were sharing back and forth. 

Joel opens the door before finishing his goodbye to your mom. 

“Bye, we’ll see you soon!” He grins and gets inside the car, buckling up before waving to her as your driver starts to pull off. There was no shot in hell you could look at her as you drove away, not if you wanted to get to the airport with minimal tears.

Joel intertwined his fingers in yours and kisses the top of your hand to console you, take your mind off the fact you just left your mom again. 

It felt different this time, leaving her house. When you first left almost a year ago, you were beside yourself and so confused about what to do with your life, thinking you’d be making the right choice to chase your dad for one last shot at something with him, anything.

But, here you were now, hand in hand with the asshole you didn’t mean to fall for, crying over the two weeks you spent with him and your mom, watching him get to know her and love her the way you do. 

“Here, take this.” Joel holds out his wired headphone and you place it in your right ear, waiting to hear the music start.

All of the anxiety, love, fearfulness, joy, everything starts to mix together as the lyrics come over the stringed instrument.

Woah, my love, my darling

I've hungered for your touch

A long, lonely time

And time goes by so slowly

And time can do so much

Your tears well in your eyes until you can feel them about to fall, causing you to turn your head to look out the window, not wanting Joel to know you were crying. 

You had to give it to him though, playing the Righteous Brothers was such a Joel move and yet, you never saw it coming. 

Your heartbeat speeds up and it’s like you could feel the blood coursing your veins, the impending doom of not knowing how anything was going to be once you returned to Texas was going to send your body into overdrive. 

-

It was close to seven by the time you and Joel got back home, the streetlights glowing that familiar orange light at the beginning of your block as the sun started to go down behind the trees ahead of you. His hand rests comfortably on your thigh, rubbing slow circles into the fabric of your sweatpants as you two softly sing along to the radio playing a song from Queen, another fitting song for the moment. 

Under Pressure. 

As Joel’s pulling in front of your houses, the sheer panic of seeing your dads vehicle in Joel’s driveway sends your anxiety through the roof, your legs instantly unfolding from the passenger seat to sit straight up, trying to make it not look like what it was. 

“Did you know he was going to be here? What the fuck is he doing here?” 

“Uhhh, I don’t know why he’s here, baby. Just stay calm, okay? I got this.” Joel winks at you and turns the truck off, getting out to see what your dad wants. You sit there for a moment and contemplate sitting still until he leaves but who knows how long that would be. Swallowing harshly, you get out and stretch before you make your way to where your dad and Joel were standing at the end of the driveway. 

“Hi, sweetheart. Where’ve you been?” 

“Michigan, I went to go see mom” you say bluntly as you take your suitcases out of Joel’s truck in a bit of a rush, trying not to let Joel’s bags be seen. Your dad takes a puff of his cigarette and you can hear the snicker from him as a response to your business in Michigan. 

“And Joel came to get you? What did you bribe him with?” The dig at the both of you causes your brows to knit together in confusion at what he was trying to get at. 

“She didn’t bribe me with anything, asshat. She’s a good girl, she just couldn’t get a reliable friend to come get her, that’s all.” 

What your dad couldn’t see was Joel’s fist behind his back, opening and closing slowly to to calm himself down and not stick your dad right in his mouth for speaking about you that way. One day he would make him see you as a person and not some doormat he can walk all over, but it wasn’t going to happen today. Joel was too exhausted and worn out to be arrested.  

Your dad’s face changes when Joel sticks up for you and he clears his throat before flicking his cigarette butt into the street and tucking his beefy hands in his front pockets. 

“I know, I’m just messin’.”

“Well, um…thanks for coming to get me Joel. I appreciate it.” You hold out your hand for a handshake just to see if he takes the bait. The corner of his mouth turns up just enough for you to notice and falls back into place as he holds out his hand, shaking yours firmly. 

He takes one last glance at you before you take your bags and walk to your house, your face warm to the touch with the mixture of embarrassment and the need to walk right back up to him and kiss him the exact way you had been in public for the last two weeks. 

But you couldn’t. 

He wasn’t yours until he wanted to go public. 

Once you get inside and drop the bags off your shoulders to the floor, you tug your phone out of the pocket on your purse. 

8:11 PM [you]: I Miss you :( Come over when he’s gone?

8:24 PM [Joel]: I miss you too sweetheart. He just needs some tools, guess he’s setting up for a pool party tomorrow? Leave your bedroom lamp on if you want me to come by when he’s done. 

8:30 PM [you]: Oh? Maybe if you’re lucky you’ll get an invite from him ;)

8:31 PM [you]: Aye aye, sir. 

You set your phone down on the counter before you drag the luggage bags upstairs to the dimly lit bedroom you’ve missed so dearly. The piles of clothes you left on the floor pad your footsteps as you try to find the lightswitch on the wall, lighting up the room to see just how disastrous you left it. 

It needed a good clean and it was on your agenda for tomorrow, for now you’re too tired to do anything besides rot on your couch and get caught up on Love Island, seeing how you missed the first couple of episodes while you were away. 

Rubbing the back of your neck while you scan the room, the sadness starts to settle in that you miss Joel. 

You were independent, sure, but being so close the past two weeks without having to hide with stolen glances and tender brushes of your hands behind the backs of everyone was really starting to get to you. 

Why did he have to be your dad’s best friend?

-

The TV drowned out your thoughts long enough to cause you to fall asleep on the living room sofa, attempting to wait for Joel to return. You reach down and grab your phone off the floor that had fallen a little while ago, opening it up to the text thread between you and Joel. 

8:30 PM [you]: Oh? Maybe if you’re lucky you’ll get an invite ;)

9:02 PM [you]: Are you almost done? I wanna cuddle.

9:44 PM [you]: You’re missing a really good episode of Love Island. Remind me to get you a pair of overalls. 

The last message you sent was a half hour ago and still response. You get up and walk into your kitchen, peeking out the window that faced Joel’s house. The lights downstairs were on, that was the most you could see. No shadows, nothing. Wondering where they were, you put on your shoes and walk out to your car, clutching the throw blanket draped over your shoulders as if it were a cape.

You just came outside to grab something from your car, at least that was the story you were sticking with if you got busted by anyone. Opening the driver's side door and looking around, you see Joel’s garage door open and the two of them sitting in lawn chairs in the middle of the room, a few beer cans at Joel’s feet. So this is where he’s been the last two hours? 

You grab a tube of lip balm from the cup holder and close the door firmly, going back inside the house before you were spotted. With your back against the front door, you slide off your shoes and contemplate leaving the door unlocked for him. He didn’t have a key and you wanted him to spend the night, but he’d be more upset if you left it unlocked and fell asleep. 

Grabbing the deadbolt latch and locking the door, you sigh and walk back to the living room to pick up the mess you made. You fold the blanket back up and lay it across the back of the couch, grab your phone, and start making your way upstairs again. 

Sleep. You wanted to sleep. 

The glow from your lamp in the corner by the window illuminated just enough to let you see a clear path to your bed. Stopping to dig out your camera from your bag, you grab it and walk over to your bed. The wind blows in your window and causes the lace curtain to touch your leg, making you turn around to look outside once more before turning off the lamp and crawling into your bed. 

You turn on your camera and look through the last two weeks of your life and the creeping melancholia comes over you. Photos of Joel in the ice cream parlor, the two of you playing cards with your mom, little moments you’ll have forever. He hated being in photos when you first met him, now he couldn’t resist smiling as big as he could when your camera was out. 

It was a little past ten when you heard your phone buzz on the nightstand behind you. Too tired to answer it or to even move, you settle down into your bed further until you fall asleep.

10:21 PM [Joel]: I’m sorry sweetheart. Didn’t know he’d be over that long. Sweet dreams. Proud you locked the front door. Love you. 

The message was the second thing you woke up to this morning. The first thing was Joel on your front porch with a bag from the grocery store with breakfast ingredients inside. He kissed your cheek after making his way to the kitchen. Hours after he made you two breakfast, you got dressed for the day. 

“Forgot to tell you, I did get invited to your dads pool party. He said he’d text you about it.” 

Joel wraps his arms around your waist from behind, pulling you against him gently while you adjust your necklace. His chin rests in the crook of your neck and looks at you through the mirror in front of you. 

“He won’t. I could just show up and crash the party though.” 

“It would make it so much better, I’ll tell you that right now, baby. We should probably go separately though. Best we lay low for a while.”

Lay low for a while. Right. 

Joel turns you around and cups your face. “Don’t give me that look, that’s not fair.” 

You stop pouting and groan loudly before putting your forehead on his chest. Joel kisses your head and stands you straight up, kissing your cheeks until you smile. You kiss his lips passionately and stand still as he starts to make his exit. 

“No pouting today. It’s a pout free day. Let’s get rollin’ baby. I love you, I’ll see you there okay?” 

Joel taps the door frame as you nod and he grins, walking downstairs and you don’t move until you hear the front door close. 

-

The music booms out of the speakers in your dads backyard and it overpowers your car radio as you pull into the driveway, parked right next to Joel’s truck. 

You walk in the front door and head to the kitchen where you hear voices echoing off the walls. A few of your dad’s colleagues stand there chatting away with small plates of finger food in their hands, colorful solo cups scattered along the countertop with various types of drinks. 

The kitchen looked amazing. You hadn’t seen it completed since Joel finished working on it. He was damn good at his job and you felt so proud of him, even if I was unfortunately at your dads house. 

“Look what the cat dragged in!” The hair on your arms raises at the annoying tone of Janet. 

“Kitchen looks nice, sure hope you paid him well” you snark back, a little cattier than you anticipated. 

She smiles sarcastically and walks towards the room behind you. Joel strolls in with your dad in tow, tugging on Joel’s white t-shirt as they laugh and you can barely make out what they’re talking about. 

“What’s up, kiddo?” Joel asks as he leans his hip against the counter and pours a drink for himself. 

You try to avoid looking him in the eyes as best as you can but you only last a few seconds. Right on cue Joel has that grin on his face, the one you only see when he’s with you. The one that holds back so many things he wishes to say. 

Janet walks back to the side of your dad like the good pet she prides herself to be, Joel standing next to you, not nearly as close as you’d like. 

“So, your dad tells me you went to Michigan? How’d you get so much time off already when you just started working?” Janet smirks and hides it with her cup, narrowing her eyes onto you. 

You ready up a loaded answer when Joel starts speaking before you. 

“I gave her the time off, no questions asked. I knew she missed her mom and felt she’d be more energized at work if she got some time from here. She does good work for me.” Dad and Janet couldn’t register his tone like you could. They were far too out of touch to see he was talking to them as if they were children. A subtle tone change was enough for you to notice his feelings on the question Janet had no business asking. 

“I stopped by your office the other day to give you the final check and Tommy said you were out of town?” 

Joel doesn’t shift his body once.

“Yeah, went to go get some wood out northeast.” His fake smile was enough to shut her up for now. It’s dancing too close for comfort and only she seems to notice the damning timelines. Your dad wasn’t putting the pieces fast enough like Janet was. 

“Can someone show me where the coolers are? I need a drink” you ask awkwardly, trying to remove yourself from this clusterfuck. 

Joel steps backwards and motions for you to go ahead in front of him. You set your bag down in the barstool right by the counter and walk outside trying to shake every bit of that conversation off of you. 

The lights were getting brighter as the sun continued to set, people mingling with you and Joel, talking about whatever. It was nice to hear other people’s life stories and how shitty their day-to-day life was. 

Janet comes out and makes a b-line towards you, your pink camera in her grubby hand. 

“You wanna explain this?” She asks in that smartass tone she always uses when she knows something you don’t. As she tosses the device to you, it lands screen faced up and on a photo of you and Joel on the beach your mom took. 

So much for laying low.

[kb-jank]

Tim vs Damian beef is so funny to me like😭

Like no shit Tim hated Damian, imagine you're trying to live your life and keep getting bodied by a fifth grader who constantly insults you.

"He's a teenager! He shouldn't have beef with a ten year old!" WRONG, have you ever meet a teenager?? I have beef with MULTIPLE ten year olds that I don't even know, let alone are my YOUNGER SIBLINGS. Get off your phone and stop engaging in Batfam Tumblr discourse and go fight some preteens smh STEP UP YOUR GAME!!

And OF COURSE Damian hated Tim, his frontal lobe was practically negatively developed.

Homeboy grew up in a murder cult, and he tries to...murder someone? WHAT IS THIS CONUNDRUM??? Are we shocked that the kid who only knows the hierarchy of the League didn't automatically unbrainwash himself the moment he stepped into the custody of the oh so caring and sweet and understanding BATMAN? I'd send Tim flying too if I was Damian, sorry not sorry.

And I'm gonna hold your hand when I say this but Tim can be an asshole, and I'm gonna need your other hand cause Damian can be an asshole too. And I'm gonna need a third hand cause I hate to break it to all the warring stans out there, but they don't even hate eachother anymore in the comics, they're lowkey chill.

In conclusion, don't hate Tim because of Damian, there's so much better things to hate him for! Like his stupid haircuts! And his gay ass boat! And don't hate Damian because of Tim, put some god damn passion into it. Hate him because he's a theatre kid, hate him because he'd love Fortnite.

[astr-venus]

｡⁠☆ Who Is This Diva✦

｡⁠☆Content: Shouta Aizawa BF headcanons

｡⁠☆Cw: swearing, pregnancy mention, threesome mention (still sfw tho !), no use of y/n

✦ Not the sweetest boyfriend or husband, at least not in most people's opinion. He's quiet, blunt, a bit of a tease as well, and all of these things kinda make him look like an asshole. These qualities don't change when you're together either, you just get really good at reading Shouta.

✦ Incredibly observant and somehow remembers everything you ever tell him. You could slightly hint at wanting to go to some fancy ass restaurant, and 6 months later when your anniversary rolls around all of a sudden he's taking you there, hell you don't even remember mentioning it.

✦ The man is blunt, but still a little shy, especially with overly lovely PDA. He can do handholding, hugs, pecks on the lips, but anything more than that and he'll push your face away like he's annoyed. He knows damn well he's flustered and embarrassed, but he absolutely refuses to let you see that. Heaven forbid you see your big strong man weak for you.

"What the hell is wrong with you, we're at the school... No you can wait till we get home you aren't dying, stop being dramatic.... My face is NOT red and I'm not into it either, get away from me. You're such a pervert."

✦ A little insecure. He doesn't feel good enough for you. If you left him or fell out of love with him he wouldn't beg for you back, but I can't say he would just accept it either. He'd probably just... Grieve. He would want you back so bad, but would hate to make you stay when he fully believes there's way way better than him out there.

✦ shit texter. Terrible texter. Horrendous texter even. He's so dry and he deplores talking on the phone, half the time he just leaves you on read. He just don't even try to reply.

✦ a cuddle bug, but only behind closed doors. As soon as the lock on your front door clicks his arms are wrapped around you and his head is on your shoulders. He trails around the house behind you like a lost puppy (and if you don't let him in the shower with you ? Oh Lord you'll never hear the end of it)

"I don't care about whatever the hell an everything shower is. There's no reason why you won't let me in, I've literally been inside you, I don't care."

✦ possessive. Wants to know where you are and what you're doing at all times. Slightly controlling, but will back off if he's over stepped.

✦ scruffy but hygienic. Showers at least once every two days, but most of the time twice a day because of teaching and patrol. He buys antibacterial everything in a generic scent, but if you have preferences for anything he doesn't mind changing it as long as he still gets clean

✦ a worrywart. If you stub your toe and don't tell him he's pissed. An injury is an injury no matter how minor. He just wants to make sure he's taking care of you. If you do the same and try to help him with any cuts or bruises from patrol he'll pretend to get fed up, but in reality you make him feel so incredibly warm inside he feels like he might burn to death

✦ secure in his masculinity. If you're a fashion guru (or if you're Eri) he couldn't care less if you picked his outfit. You can put him in strawberry perfume and a skirt and all he would ask is that you make the outfit school appropriate

✦ speaking of Eri, that's his daughter, straight up. He loves that little girl like he birthed her himself, and the minute you two start bonding is the minute he figures out what heaven looks like.

✦ Shouta never really wanted kids, not to say he doesn't love teaching the brats at his school, but that really was enough time spent with children for the day. Until Eri came, and then when you came. I think he'd love to give Eri a little sibling, though I don't think he wants more than 3 kids. 4 at most.

✦ don't try to watch movies with him, don't bring him to the theater either, he's just gonna fall asleep as soon as the title screen comes up. He will beg and moan to watch some shitty movie with you and fall asleep before the main character even has their first line

"Hmm, what? No I wasn't sleeping... My eyes were closed because I was training my spacial awareness, I promise I'm still watching the movie... When have I ever lied to you ?"

✦ doesn't have a big presence and has a staring problem, people who don't know you're together think he's a stalker. Between his overall rough looking appearance and his hard focus on you he looks like a serial killer, there's a good chance you won't have to worry about a lot of other women bc of this tho (not that he would ever cheat, he'd fall upon his own sword first), so good for you !

✦ jumpscares you forever. He claims he isn't doing it on purpose, but for how often it happens it's gotta be malicious !! It's gotta be !! You turn around in the kitchen, when the hell did Shouta get there ? You're at the store, when did Shouta follow you out the door ? You wake up, good lord Shouta why are you staring at me like that ? There is no escape from how often he scares you either.

✦ starts referring to you as his wife before you're married, but he only calls you wife behind you're back before you're engaged. Since I don't see Shouta as the type to really yearn for marriage, I think if you don't have a want for it either he's calling you his wife a year into the relationship

"Yeah, my wife is at home with my daughter. They hate publicity as much as I do so I left them at home.... We've been together for a year, but known each other much longer. I'm incredibly lucky to have her."

✦ a very soft man. To outsiders he's cold and prickly but he's actually the sweetest blueberry in the basket, he's like a huge cat. All of his touches are gentle, he would never forgive himself if he hurt you, he'd spend his whole life atoning for something like that.

✦ I would like to end this post by saying if you ever convince him to do a threesome it would be with Hizashi. That is all.

Also, what character would YOU like to see next ? Thinking Mina or... Maybe I'll work on my Hawks characterization... Decisions decisions....

I kinda wanna make another post like this but it's erasermic + y/n. My fav polycule besides for tdbkdk if I'm honest. Should I do a Mic intro and then the poly post or just skip straight to the poly post ?

Slow posting as well 💔💔 made this blog and immediately got hit with the Too Busy To Post Beam, but I stare at it longingly before I go to bed every night

｡⁠☆Requests open

[itsrlymine]

Heyy could I be 🦀 anon please?? I really appreciate your account and how you don’t sugarcoat things, it’s so motivating. I’d like to share some successes I achieved recently, there’s plenty but I chose the best ones

I got rid of my social anxiety, overthinking and fear of presentations completely. I used to panic when I had to present in school, but I’m so chill rn and it always goes well (as in, I get extremely praised by everyone bc of how good my presentations are). I also don’t get anxious over social interactions and I’m much more outgoing + not afraid to speak up. I never went to therapy or anything, just used a subliminal and some affirmations and boom I had it.

Wanted to look and seem more angelic and I kid you not I got stopped by a random older lady on the street. She just kept talking about how amazing and angelic I am, should never change and how she’s so surprised to have seen someone like me. This may seem unbelievable but damn it is very much real 😭 I also got called “blessed by the gods” by a classmate of mine

I decided I’m the main character and that my life is much more interesting: the amount of good and mc-like things that happened ever since is insane. Plenty of cute cafe spots opened up near me and I’m getting invited out by this girl I’ve always wanted to befriend, she’s also so kind to me. The chocolatier lady near me keeps being so nice and she told me I’m her fav customer, we often talk a lot once I come over + I’m getting free chocolates and try new ones before they even release 🤭💞 i picked up new hobbies and I’m amazing at them, especially badminton and jewelry making. I get along with basically everyone and I keep having lovely interactions with them.

And much much more but I’m not sure how you feel about longer asks so I’m cutting this one short. Overall I’m very grateful for you and your account, I’m looking forward to your posts 🩷

Hello 🦀! I appreciate your appreciation!!! Thank you for sharing your successes, these are so sweet!! Everybody is you pushed out fr! There is no denying! I don't mind longer asks babe bc they are for me and everyone one on this blog. I will make sure I have many more amazing posts for you to look forward to. I'm gonna need more of those success stories when you get the chance... love you babes!!!

[theplantbish]

Käärijä, have a good weekend IG story, translation under the cut

Oh damn, I have to tell you one more story. Just kidding, just kidding, no more stories, I won't bore you with my sales stories, but good weekend to everyone, Kärtsä is going to Joensuu, see you at the gig, come there to party whoever is coming, today we go, today is time for a party, so that... Time is. (He starts to sing an old Finnish song but forgets the lyrics after like 4 words) I don't remember.

[cjlouwho]

Have we been good enough to get another Rocker/Deacon fic snippet?🩶

Got the first ask yesterday and the second a few minutes ago. Here's what I've been working on today:

Rocker laughed humorlessly. “What are we doing, David? I mean, what even is this?”

“I... I don't. Donovan-”

Rocker held out a hand, stopping him. “Before, when we were just fucking, I got it. A way for you to blow off steam. Happy to provide a service-”

“Hey, that's not what that was!” Deacon exclaimed, becoming defensive.

“But now,” Rocker continued without missing a beat, “now half the time you come over here you're just coming over. We talk, we make dinner together, we watch a movie. You're bringing me your problems, David. Problems you should be talking through with your wife.”

“It's different! She doesn't understand this work stuff. I wanted to talk it through with someone who would!”

“You're telling me for sixteen- almost seventeen- years of being married, you haven't been able to talk to your wife about work problems?”

“That's not what I-”

“You know I was married before? I was married for ten years, actually.”

“Of course I know that,” Deacon replied, crossing his arms over his chest. “What's that got to do with anything?”

“I'm not some twenty year old kid that's just here to mess around with whatever the fuck is going on with you!”

“I didn't-”

“If it's just sex, fine. But this, it's- it's too much for my head, Deac.”

“Don-”

“And you get mad when I have dates, you get jealous, and that's not fair to me.”

Deacon raised his voice. “I really need you-”

“I really need you to go!”

“If you'd let me finish a damn sentence!”

“Go home to your wife, David!” Rocker yelled before turning and heading toward his door. He opened it, moving to the side so Deacon could go.

Deacon stared at him, unmoving. “Donovan,” he breathed out, his voice breaking on the name.

Rocker held up his hand. “Just go home to Annie, Deacon.”

[respectthepetty]

The Loyal Pin - Finale

I've waited two weeks for this finale, so I'm jumping straight in because I need three things out of it: a happy ending, Anin wearing pink, and Patricia apologizing to Pin, WHICH IT THE FIRST THING TO HAPPEN!

Pat, who finally gets her name back, is wearing Pink Person Pin's color and giving the best apologizing to Pin who still doesn't fully have her color back.

And now Anin's mom is pawning off the jewelry in case the girls have to go to England, and I have never appreciated fictional color-coded women more in my life.

OUR ALLY! OUR KING! OUR BEST BOY!

As much as Pin was upsetting me with that marriage business, she always shows up for her girl, and no man would EVER get on the floor and beg for mercy like this! THIS IS THE MOMENT!

One thing about Anin is she is always going to be a Blue Beauty regardless of what is happening.

WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING?! NO!!!! WE AIN'T GOING OUT LIKE THIS! PIN FINALLY GOT HER COLOR BACK AND HER AUNT/MOM/WHATEVS IS ON HER SIDE NOW! NOOOO!

Wait, a damn minute! What the hell is this all about?

What did this Blue Bitc--Beauty do? Annette, ANSWER ME?!

It's a prank?! What in the MTV's Jackass is this bullshit about?!

AND EVERYONE WAS IN ON IT?!

Anan, on God, you are the only royal I respect in this house because you have been PFLAG's Ally of the Year, and I appreciate you trying to convince your father, but what in the Sam Hill was your sister thinking?!

Pin, beat her! At least slap Annette once. She hasn't worn pink yet, and now this?! I know she is a princess, but if this was French Revolution, Annette would be on thin ice. I'm not saying kill her, but she needs to be scared the same way she keeps scaring you BY KIDNAPPING YOU!

Or give her a ring for her birthday because you love her special brand of crazy. Sure! That works too!

And the whole group is in blue for the Blue Beauty with some pops of pink. Everyone supports her special brand of crazy. Got it!

This feels like a baby shower, so it being a rich lesbian's birthday is making this so pleasurable!

Now, Pat! You just got your name back, and now I want to snatch it away again! What is this, mama? Desserts are your specialty, not decorations. Stick to your strengths, girl, cause this ain't it! AND WHY IS ANIN IN GREEN?! This green has haunted me the entire second half of the show! And now the green AND that little figurine will haunt me forever.

I know I should be happy homegirl is pregnant, but since Anan dropped the fact that he didn't get to marry who he loved, I feel bad for both of them.

They will make this work, but as Anin's mom would say, I'm being really western about this marriage of conventionality.

Alin, were you the Green Girl I was waiting for all along to take this darn color that has haunted me?!

Everyone's cute and in their colors. Alin looks more like Anin and Pin's daughter, and I love that for us.

Pat, I'm still salty toward you, but I'm glad I don't want to fight you anymore because you look so good in your color, and I hate being attracted to people who piss me off. I was never not attracted to you, but it's nice to know I actually like you again too.

Annette, just because you have incorporated more florals and dots into your outfits as a sign that you love Pin doesn't mean you are off the hook for not wearing pink, but I'm going to ignore it right now because MY BABYGIRL IS FREE!!! She can live her life as the bright and beautiful Yellow Yal she was meant to be without a man tying her down! I actually hope Aon is well too.

I don't know how Kuea's wife made the same mistake twice, but more power to that woman for giving that triflin' man two kids.

They are adorable wives, and Pin giving Anin lunch in a pink gingham checkered cloth is adorable, BUT WHERE IS YOUR PINK, ANNETTE?!

Prik, you and Pia were the real ones putting up with these lesbians over DECADES ACROSS CONTINENTS! I hope Annette taught you how to play tennis and drive, so you can run her errands in style.

SHE IS WEARING PINK! ANNETTE IS WEARING PINK! IT'S HAPPENING AND I'M SCREAMING!!!!!

Leave it up to Idol Factory to wait until the last possible minute, literally, to give me the color exchange! Congratulations, everyone got their name back this episode. Good job, Anin!

Pushing the horrible prank aside, the finale was worth the wait and the hour and half runtime. I enjoyed every single episode, and the colors were coloring until the very end (damn you, Idol Factory!), so I do hope it gets the credit it deserves for being the most each episode and doing most of it amazingly well.

Everyone got the ended they needed including our color-coded girls in love.

And I love that.

[glitter-stained]

Sense the current state of jason as character is stagnant do you think dc will ever purplish a good story of him, maybe he even kills of his red hood persona and goes on to be something else that would be something I would like to see but I don’t think it will happen. Dc will forever shoehorn him in to the batfamily. At least in his anti-villian era he was actually fun now his character is in a pitiful state

do u think theirs a chance of reinvent him as character anytime soon ?

Well first of all through spite everything is possible, so jot that down.

Like seriously, remember when it was so so incredibly over like Spiderman's Uncle Ben levels of over and then Under the Hood happened? Hell yeah I think dc will publish a good Jason story

Second I may not be the best person for this ask because I like my blorbos pitiful and miserable. Like yeah defiance is awesome but exhaustion -in characters who have been angry and alone for so long, beaten dog who got electrocuted too often to bite back- has a special place in my heart. But I also agree this has to be a transitional part of a story, the arc can't be "well he was hurt and then he was angry and then he was tired and he was miserable the whole time". Unless of course he ends up perma-dying in a really meaningful arc centered around his character but I'm not sure that'd be what I want for him, and we all know how lame dc is with permadeath nowadays. I'm also very mitigated with his villain side because yeah sometimes it's very fun and cathartic to see the angry/bad victim trope, but also the classismXpsychophobia of villain Red Hood sometimes are just too much; and also I'm a jaybin fan and sometimes I feel betrayed on jaybin's behalf by elements of his villainous characterization. (One day I'll write that damned UTH rewrite, I will).

With that being said!!! I love Jason because of his potential, he has so so much of it, that's what's exhausting about his many bad comics is that yeah. Yeah, dc can absolutely publish something more than good. They don't understand the goldmine they're sitting on in terms of potential.

What I'd love to see explored in hypothetical upcoming good comics (i'll talk more about it later with malfiora but for now)/how dc could go about reinventing his character :

1) addressing Jason's suicidality and getting him a functional support system (seriously, something's gotta give)

2) Get that boy a dog. Ik he had one at some point in N52 idc give him more dogs. Big ass rescue dog that's loyal and similar to him.

2) we need to figure out a way to let Jason keep being a Crime Alley/Park Row vigilant without being dependent on Batman. Like yeah he should explore the world away from him and heal but also i'm very uncomfortable with the idea that healing, for Jason, has to mean leaving the city and neighbourhood he grew up in and protected, has to mean be shoved out of his home by a guy who doesn't live there and, at least when Jason was a kid, only visited the place one time a year because of the anniversary of his parents' death- it's not fair and I won't accept it.

3) I so so agree about the "killing the red hood persona" or at the very least changing his vigilant name. Like I get the point, I understand the use he had for him, but his story can't be centered around the Joker forever (I keep thinking about the Joker's attitude to him in The Man who stopped Laughing and god, I can see a driving force to find himself as something else than what Batman and the Joker made him). At some point his name has to become something that is his and turned towards the future.

4) art + story that acknowledges how young he is (someone please let Jason take college class please please he deserves it)

5) perhaps most importantly: batman writers often sound like hardcore deontology or hardcore utilitarianism (and the occasional egoism) are the only acceptable moral philosophies. And for characters, it works! Like I can see Batman as a Kantian, sure. But for others, it doesn't fit as well.*

The cool thing about Jason's character right now is that he's a utilitarian, but a utilitarian that often isn't guided by his values. He can and will compromise on his philosophy in the name of love and being loved ( @bestangelofall called that a morality leash) and that already sets him as an interesting character in his own right. But in terms of redefining himself as a person after decades of defining himself through his pain (which, at 20-23 years old, he should get to do) I'd love to see an evolution of his morals based on love. Specifically, I'd love from his morals to shift from mathematical utilitarianism to agape, an ancient greek concept of platonic love for everything human, a movement towards the other that can be thought of as close to some conceptualisations of empathy. Mind you, that doesn't mean that he would stop killing! I can believe in a Jason who kills because or against of agape, the pain or relief that could be so good to explore in relation to that, how he would go on to define himself as a person... I feel like Jason has a certain tendency to kinda dehumanize the worst criminals as he kills them (a lesson from Judy, love her sm) which I love, but would also love to see him grow out of - learn to see and love everyone as human and what it means, a re-exploration of his empathy.

Imagine: a scene where he kills a guy because a kid victim begged him to. The focus on the image is on the kid's big wide tearstruck eyes, and then Jason's uncertain face, the kid begging him to kill the bad guy. And then Jason kills him and they're standing so close to eachother, and he's look him in the eyes and seeing the image of the kid's eyes, and then turning back to the kid while wiping the blood on his face and seeing the kid's wide eyes looking in disbelieving awe. And then kneeling and hugging the kid as he cries his heart out. And Jason's inner monologue during all that being something like "I could say that I killed him because I'm a bad guy; I probably am. Or argue the world is better off without scum like him; I could pretend I did it so he wouldn't hurt [x] again, or that I was thinking about all the other children he wouldn't be able to hurt anymore. But the truth is, I didn't. I killed him because [x] asked me to; because I could tell that he needed it. I can live with that."

Idk, that's the direction I would love to see it going, but simply "becoming even more open, louder and unapologetic about prioritising his love over his values, and being angry when it causes him dilemma" is something I'd love with as way. Very "Odysseus knows what he's going to choose the moment the gods tell him to throw the baby off the wall to see Penelope and Telemachus, but fuck if he's angry at the gods for making him make that choice" kind of vibe if you like Epic the musical.

*i'm not saying there aren't any characters in dc that fall out of this deontological/utilitarian false dilemma, it's just a vibe I get from batman writers at times, and as a consequence of specializing in one character I don't feel legitimate in exploring the intricacies of other characters because I feel like I'm lacking information and would be making uneducated guesses (that being said, I would fuck heavily with an exploration of Cass' morals VS Levinas' concept of ethics). If anybody has recommendations of dc characters that are neither utilitarian nor deontological (or are at least an interesting twist to it) I would love them so much please don't hesitate!!!

So yeah, idk if that answers your question, I don't pretend to know the intricate working of dc editorial. But imo there are wonderful possibilities for dc to reinvent Jason and write him into good comics -call me a blue lantern cause baby I got hope.

[marimeeko]

Yo why the fuck is Katsuki and his relationship with Izuku getting done so dirty in this epilogue? Like he led the super suit project. He likely started it bc he couldn't dream of doing herowork without Izuku. All Might credited him when giving the suit to Izuku. He held out his hand. Izuku, I'm guessing, took his hand. Fine, good, wonderful.

But suddenly, Katsuki fucking asks him to start an agency with him so they can work together, literally their fucking DREAM SINCE THEY WERE KIDS? AND IZUKU SAYS NO?? What was this entire exercise for? What was showing us how deeply they MEAN to each other, how dependent on each other they are, just for izuku to casually shoot katsuki down with a smile, even FOR?

Please what the fuck. What the fuck am I looking at.

As far as we know yet, we dont know if the two get a conversation specifically regarding katsukis devotion to the suit project, we don't get Izuku getting to realize and appreciate what Katsuki has been doing for the last 8 years, how devoted the man is?

And yeah I know katsuki ain't doing it for clout or recognition or a pat on the back, but that doesn't t mean he doesn't deserve some form of emotional payoff for the whole thing(as well as the audience who was rooting for him!)

Ooof I know I know, I'm angry over a manga(I wasn't mad before) but this part has driven me up a wall bc...

Idk, katsuki just deserves better. He feels like n afterthought in this epilogue.

I know I know, I need to wait out the full release and see everything for myself but DAMN

I feel like he's getting done a little dirty in this.

Technically no izuku doesn't owe him for the gift HOWEVER this is a story with thematic elements and THEMATICALLY, izuku and Katsuki have been so intertwined and woven together, and played as so desperate to keep each other in their lives, to compete, to fight alongside each other, and then the PAYOFF is a SHRUG and a rejection to just that?? Thematically, this is UNSATISFYING AS FUCK.

Like, what is their entire arc if it just ends in a casual rejection?? What the fuck were we building up to and getting so emotionally invested in for their relationship? Please it's so anticlimactic. This was a story about THEM. There was no Izuku without Kacchan, there was no Kacchan without Izuku.

Katsuki Bakugou deserves better.

And 0 percent of this is about the shipping. It's simply what Horikoshi wrote when he wrote them as a duo. When he framed their relationship as the CORE, the heart and SOUL of the story. When he made "win to save, save to win" a running theme, when he made Izuku someone who would kill for Katsuki, and Katsuki someone who would die(and live) for Izuku.

Maybe as more info drops and actual releases happen, this post will age badly. Part of me really hopes it does and there's some sort of misunderstanding or something, bc I did NOT want the thread of BKDK(be it platonic, romantic or other) to end this...unfortunately.

Again. I don't give a shit about the shipping in this moment, in this rant/vent. It's not about that rn. It's literally just the setup not matching the payoff.

[emjayewrites]

spin bout u • aurélien tchouaméni request

REQUEST: from @whoevenisthiz — I was wondering if could write me an Aurèlien fic with a bit of a toxic vibe? Like, not an established couple, but more of an intense, messy push-and-pull dynamic—kind of raunchy too, coz you know how I am 😏. I’m not too picky about how it ends; I just think it’d be really cool to see your take on something like this! Thank you in advance Emjay xxx

WARNINGS: toxic!aurelien, cursing, smut. 18+/minors dni

TAGLIST: @trenterprise, @sucredreamer, @pepfectionary, @irishmanwhore, @certifiedlesbianbaddie, @perfecttrashface, @deonn-jaelle, @f1-football-fiend, @julescpu, @peyiswriting, @2serenity0, @greedyjudge2, @queenshikongo3

A/N: Send requests!

The winter air bit at Remy's cheeks as she turned the corner to her apartment building, her boots crunching on the salt-covered sidewalk. Atlanta's usual humidity had given way to an unusual cold snap, the kind that made her miss the warmth of summer. She spotted the sleek black car first, its glossy paint reflecting the glow of the streetlights. Then her eyes fell on him—leaning against the driver's side door, arms crossed, wearing a thick gray Nike sweatsuit with a hood pulled up over his head.

Aurélien.

He looked every bit like trouble, his sweatsuit hung off his frame just right, his sneakers impossibly clean against the slush. He was doing that thing he always did—biting his bottom lip as his gaze flicked up and down her body with deliberate slowness, like he was daring her to react.

Remy stopped dead in her tracks, her grip tightening on her bag, believing him to be some mirage, but unfortunately he was really there. "You've got to be fucking kidding me."

Aurélien smirked, pushing off the car with lazy confidence. "Miss me?"

She rolled her eyes so hard it almost hurt. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Visiting an old friend," he said simply, his French accent curling around each word like a velvet ribbon, thicker than she remembered. She scoffed at his response. "Ah, but we were never really friends, were we?"

"We weren't really anything," she shot back, even as her heart betrayed her with an irritating flutter.

"That's not how I remember it." His eyes glinted with something unreadable in the streetlight.

"Your memory's selective then." She started walking toward her building's entrance. "What are you doing here? Don't you have a match or something?"

"Postponed." He fell into step beside her, matching her pace easily. "Figured I'd check in on you."

"Check in?" She barked a laugh. "You mean spin the block?"

His smirk widened as he sucked his teeth. "Call it what you want. You gonna let me in, or are we doing this out here?"

"I haven't decided yet," she shot back, even as her feet betrayed her, carrying her closer. "You could have texted first."

"I did. You didn't answer."

Her lips pressed into a thin line. "Maybe that was a hint."

Aurélien straightened up, his hands slipping into his pockets as he took a small step closer. The familiar scent of his cologne mixed with the crisp winter air made her head spin slightly.

"Or maybe," he said, his voice dropping lower, "you were waiting for me to prove I still give a damn."

"You're so full of yourself," she muttered, but there was less bite in her tone than she intended.

"And yet, here we are." His eyes softened just enough to make her defenses waver. "Can we go inside? It's cold as fuck out here."

She stared at him for a long moment, debating whether to leave him standing there or give in to whatever this was. Her pride told her to walk away, but curiosity—and something else she wasn't ready to name—won out.

The tension in her apartment was thick as she dropped her designer bag on the counter and kicked off her boots. Aurélien stood by the door, his hands still in his pockets, trying to play it cool but his eyes following her every move.

"You didn't have to come all this way," she said, keeping her tone casual as she grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge.

"Didn't I?"

"It's been months, Aurélien." She took a long sip of water, trying to ignore the intensity of his gaze. "Why now?"

"Maybe I missed you."

"Don't."

"Don't what? Be honest?"

Remy set her water down harder than necessary. "You can't just show up here and say things like that."

"You watch my matches," he said suddenly.

That made her head cock in confusion. "Excuse me?"

His smile was knowing. "Your likes on Twitter show up, you know. Three in the morning your time, watching Madrid games."

"Insomnia," she said flatly. "Your boring-ass matches put me right to sleep." Remy let out an irritated huff. "You should leave."

He moved into her space, not touching but close enough that she could smell his cologne. "If you really wanted me gone, you wouldn't have let me up."

"Maybe I just want to tell you off properly." She tilted her chin up defiantly. "Private event, you know?"

"Maybe," he stepped closer, his eyes darkening, "you missed this too."

"This?" She gestured between them. "What's 'this'? The part where you show up whenever you feel like it and expect me to just fall in line? Or the part where you disappear for months when things get too real?"

Something flickered in his expression – a crack in the smooth façade. "That's not fair."

"Neither is showing up at my apartment in fucking Atlanta when you should be in fucking Madrid." She crossed her arms. "What happened? Your usual rotation got boring?"

"You want to talk about running?" His voice dropped lower, an edge creeping in. "How about those unanswered messages? Those declined calls? The way you acted like what happened between us was nothing?"

"Because it was nothing," she lied through her teeth. "A few weeks of fun. Ancient history."

He laughed, but it wasn't amused. "You're still a terrible liar, Remy."

"And you're still way too convinced of your own importance."

The air between them grew heavier with each passing second. She hated how well he could still read her, how easily he could slip past her carefully constructed walls.

"What do you want from me?" she asked finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I want to talk, bébé."

"Talk?" she repeated, incredulous. "You flew across the Atlantic to ‘talk’? Nigga, kindly go to hell."

Instead of backing away like a normal person, Aurélien had the audacity to smile, as per usual. He loved the toxicity between them just as much as she loved when he—

Don’t do that, Remy. Not right now, girl.

"You know that you miss this, mon bébé. Or do I have to remind you? I mean I just came here to talk but if you want…"

"I thought we were done with this," she said, but her voice lacked conviction.

"Do you really believe that?" His hand reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Because I don’t."

She searched his face for any sign of the old Aurélien—the one who kept everything surface-level, who never let anyone too close. Instead, she found something new: hope, mixed with a touch of fear that matched her own.

Her breath hitched, and before she could overthink it, she grabbed the front of his sweatshirt and yanked him down into a kiss.

The rest of their conversation dissolved into heat and frustration and the kind of chemistry that always seemed to burn too hot.

Aurélien’s hands roamed her body like he was trying to memorize every curve, every dip. He backed her up against the counter, his lips moving to her neck as her fingers tugged at his sweatshirt.

"Remy," he murmured against her skin, his voice thick with want.

"Don’t think this means anything," she said, her nails dragging down his chest as she arched into him. "It just been awhile."

He pulled back just enough to smirk down at her, his eyes dark and teasing. "Keep telling yourself that."

She shoved him, but he only laughed, his hands gripping her waist as he lifted her onto the counter.

"Aurélien—"

"Say my name again," he interrupted, his lips brushing hers before trailing lower.

"Don’t push your luck," she shot back, though her voice wavered.

He didn’t answer, but the way he looked at her, like she was the only thing he needed in that moment, was almost too much. And Remy knew that by the night’s end, he will have her screaming his name multiple times.

When he finally slid his hands under her thighs, pulling her closer with a possessive grip, all she could do was hold on tight and hope she didn’t regret this later.

Remy’s hands tugged at the hem of his sweatshirt, yanking it over his head with an impatient huff. "Why do you always wear so many damn layers?" she muttered, her fingers already working at the waistband of his sweatpants.

"Maybe I like making you work for it," he quipped, biting his bottom lip as she shoved the fabric down his hips, revealing the sharp lines of his abs and the curve of his erection straining against his boxers.

She didn’t dignify him with a response, instead pulling her own top over her head and tossing it aside. His gaze immediately dropped to her chest, his tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip.

"You got a new tattoo?" he asked, his voice dropping a notch as his fingers brushed the delicate ink just below her collarbone—a minimalist design of a crescent moon intertwined with flowers.

"Noticed that, huh?" she said, her voice light, but her breath hitched as his lips replaced his fingers, pressing a warm, open-mouthed kiss over the tattoo.

"You always did like pretty things," he murmured, his tongue tracing the curve of the ink. "Guess I shouldn’t be surprised."

His hands slid down to her waist, gripping the waistband of her leggings. With one swift motion, he tugged them down, leaving her bare except for a pair of black lace panties. He let out a low hum of approval as his hands trailed along her thighs, his thumbs brushing the soft skin.

When he dropped to his knees, Remy’s breath caught. Aurélien’s eyes locked onto hers, a wicked smirk curling his lips. "I missed this," he said, pressing a kiss to her inner thigh. "Missed the way you taste."

"Then stop talking and do something about it," she shot back, her voice more breathless than she’d like.

He chuckled, low and rough, before pulling her panties down with deliberate slowness. The cool air hit her skin just as his warm breath followed, and then his tongue was on her, licking a long, slow stripe up her center.

Remy’s hands flew to his hair, her fingers tangling in the curls as he worked her with maddening precision. His tongue teased and explored, alternating between broad strokes and focused flicks that had her arching her back and moaning his name.

"Aurélien—oh, my god."

"Say it again," he murmured against her, his voice vibrating against her most sensitive spot.

She did, over and over, her voice trembling as he pushed her closer to the edge. But just as the tension coiled tight enough to snap, he pulled back, leaving her gasping in frustration.

"What the hell—"

"Where do you want me to fuck you?" he interrupted, his voice dark and commanding.

Her mind scrambled to keep up, her body still throbbing from the near-release. "The couch," she managed, her voice breathless.

He grinned, standing and pulling her with him. "Good choice."

Aurélien led her to the couch, his hands firm on her hips as he bent her over the armrest. His lips found her spine, trailing kisses down her back until he reached her ass. He spread her open with his hands, groaning softly.

"Fuck, Remy," he muttered, his voice tinged with reverence and hunger. He spat on her, the slick sound followed by the warmth of his tongue as he devoured her from behind.

Remy moaned, her fingers digging into the couch cushions as he worked her over, his grip on her hips bruising. "You’re such an asshole," she gasped, her words dissolving into a whimper as he sucked on her clit.

"And you’re still letting me eat your pussy," he shot back, his voice muffled.

She didn’t have a response, not when his tongue was doing sinful things that made her toes curl. Just when she thought she couldn’t take any more, he pulled back again, his hands sliding down her thighs.

"You miss me, don’t you?" he asked, his tone mocking but with an edge of sincerity.

"No," she said, though the breathiness of her voice made it sound more like a lie.

"You do," he said, pressing the tip of his dick against her folds. He teased her entrance, tapping the head against her clit before sliding it through her slickness. "You missed this. Missed me. Admit it."

She threw a glare over her shoulder. "Fuck you."

"That’s the plan." He pushed into her slowly, filling her inch by inch until her head dropped forward, a soft curse spilling from her lips.

"Aurélien—"

"Yeah," he said, gripping her hips as he started to move. "Say my name, Remy. Let me hear how much you missed me."

Her response was a series of moans, her body meeting his thrusts as he set a punishing rhythm. His fingers dug into her skin, anchoring her in place as he drove into her, his dirty talk pouring out like a confession.

"Feel so good, baby," he murmured, his voice thick. "So tight. So wet. Fuck, I’m not letting you go again. You hear me?"

She whimpered, her body arching into him. "You’re so—"

"Say it," he interrupted, slamming into her harder. "Say my name, Remy."

She cried out, her voice trembling as she obeyed, the sound of his name like a prayer on her lips.

His movements grew erratic, his breath hot against her shoulder as he leaned over her, his chest brushing her back. "Where do you want it?" he asked, his voice rough and urgent.

"Inside me," she answered without hesitation.

He groaned, his hips stuttering as he thrust deep, spilling into her with a final, shuddering moan.

Aurélien’s weight settled over her as they caught their breath, their bodies tangled together on her couch. The quiet hum of the city outside seeped through the windows, but neither of them moved, too lost in the afterglow to care about anything else.

Remy trailed her fingers lazily across his shoulder, tracing the faint scars and ridges she’d come to memorize. Her mind was a jumble of satisfaction and irritation—the two emotions he always managed to pull out of her in equal measure.

Aurélien shifted, his lips brushing against her temple as he murmured, "You’re quiet."

"That’s called peace," she said, her tone dry. "Something I had before you decided to drop in uninvited."

He chuckled softly, his hand sliding down her side to rest on her hip, possessive even now. "You didn’t seem too upset a few minutes ago."

She rolled her eyes, though the flush on her cheeks betrayed her. "Momentary lapse in judgment."

"Is that what we’re calling it?" He shifted, propping himself up on one elbow to look down at her, his smirk firmly in place.

Remy swatted at his chest, trying not to smile. "Don’t you have a plane to catch or something? A very long one back to Madrid, preferably."

"I’ll be in Atlanta for three more days," he said, his voice taking on that infuriatingly confident tone again.

"Lucky me."

" Very," he said, brushing his thumb across her bottom lip. "Saint Bene. Eight tomorrow."

She sighed, tilting her head to glare at him. "You’re relentless, you know that?"

His grin widened, and he leaned down to kiss her once more, slow and unhurried, as though he had all the time in the world. When he pulled back, his dark eyes held hers, amusement and sincerity mingling there.

"I’ll see you tomorrow."

Remy groaned as he rolled off the couch and started gathering his clothes. She stayed sprawled where she was, her body still humming from his touch, even as her mind screamed at her to push him away.

When the door clicked shut behind him, she sat up and reached for her phone.

A text came through almost immediately: "Goodnight, ma belle. Sleep well."

Her fingers hesitated over the screen before typing back: "The audacity you have is astronomical. "

His response came just as quickly: "You love it though. Don’t forget to wear something nice."

Remy stared at the phone, letting her head fall back against the couch with a groan. She already knew she was going to dinner tomorrow. Already knew exactly what dress she’d wear.

"Fuck," she muttered into the empty apartment, finally admitting defeat.

That’s how it always was with them—a constant push and pull, a dance on the edge of something they both refused to name.

[rhapsodynew]

#rare photos

RARE PHOTOGRAPHS OF GEORGE HARRISON TAKEN BY PAUL MCCARTNEY IN 1959.

Paul McCartney and George Harrison at that time lived just one stop away from each other in the so-called "Trading Estate" in Speke.

During these bus trips, George found out that Paul plays trumpet and got a guitar, and Paul found out that George plays guitar, they got together at night and played songs that Paul remembers, such as "Besame Mucho" and "Don't Rock me Daddy O".

Paul and George became fast friends, even hitchhiking to Wales in August 1959 before they became famous and joined The Beatles.

"Better times with George? We hitchhiked to a place in Wales called Harlech, we were kids." We heard the song "Men Of Harlech", saw it on the sign, yes, there was a big castle. And we just went there. We had guitars everywhere and we ended up in this cafe. You know, we tried to go to some place, to a central meeting place, there was a small cafe in Harlech that had a jukebox. So we sat down there. We met a guy, he started talking, he was into rock and roll, you know, we went and stayed at his house. - Paul McCartney

"One day Paul and I decided to hitchhike. This is something that no one dreams of today. Firstly, you will probably be robbed before you even pass through the Mercy Tunnel, and secondly, everyone has cars and they are already stuck in traffic. I often traveled with my family to the south, to Devon, to Exmouth, so Paul and I decided to go there first. "We didn't have a lot of money. We found a bed and breakfast. We got to a city, walked down the street, it started to get dark. We saw a woman and said, "Excuse me, do you know where we can stay?" She felt sorry for us and said, "My boy has left, come and stay at my house." She took us to her place, she allowed us to stay in her boy's room and cooked breakfast for us the next morning. She was very sweet. I do not know who she was.

"We continued along the south coast towards Exmouth. On the way, we talked at the pub with a customer who told us his name was Oxo Whitney. (He later appears in "A Spaniard in the Works". After we told John this story, he used this name. Most of John's books are based on funny things that were told to him.) Then we went to Paignton. We still had almost no money. We had small backpacks, we stopped at grocery stores. We bought spaghetti bolognese or spaghetti Milanese. They were in striped cans: Milanese with red stripes, bolognese with blue stripes. And rice with Ambrosia cream. We opened the jar, bent the lid and held the jar over the stove to keep it warm. It was what we lived for.

"We arrived in Paignton with no extra money, so we spent the night on the beach, got up in the morning and went for a walk again. We drove through North Devon and took the ferry to South Wales because Paul had a relative, so we decided to go there. "In Chepstow, we went to the police station and asked to stay in the cell. They said, "No." So we went and slept on a hardboard bench. It's damn cold. We left there and hitchhiked on. Moving north through Wales, we were given a lift by truck. Back then, trucks didn't have a passenger seat, so I sat on the engine cover. Paul was sitting on the radiator. He was wearing jeans with zippers on the back pockets and after a while he suddenly jumped up screaming.His zipper connected the positive and negative poles of the battery, heated red hot and left a mark. "When we finally got to Butlins, we couldn't get there. They had barbed wire fences to keep the campers and us out. That's why we had to break in." – George Harrison, The Beatles Anthology.

1960s

George, Paul and Ringo, Vee Caldwell House, Liverpool, 1961

George, Rory Storm, Ringo, Johnny "Guitarist" Byrne and their friends, Vee Caldwell House, Liverpool, 1961

George and Paul, the Cashba Club, February 1961