#Even tried some new techniques to ring in the new year!

[damiansgoodgirll]

i know it might be early but can you write about reader being in the judgment day and seeing her family breaking up at summerslam and so even if rhea and damian just lost they comfort her because they know how important was the jd to her? like they were her family.

oh i’ve been waiting for this request honestly

damian priest x reader (platonic) + rhea ripley x reader (platonic)

tw : mention of abandonment, family issues, feeling of loneliness, brief panic attacks

don’t break my heart

if someone told you a year ago that you would have joined the most successful faction in the wwe at the moment you probably would have laughed at them in their face.

and yet, a year ago rhea and the rest of the judgment day saw your potential when you were just in nxt. they saw as the fierce and feisty teenage girl that no one could handle and they knew that they wanted someone like you in their team.

you were only twenty but it felt like you were in the business for forty years. you knew that wrestling was your passion and you wanted to trasform that passion into your everyday work.

your family didn’t agree. they didn’t see what you saw in wrestling and so they couldn’t see the talent you actually had. they said you had to focus on a real career path, that once you finished high school you had to apply for more colleges you could. they wanted a future for you that you didn’t want.

and when you tried to explain to them that all you wanted to do in life was wrestling, they kicked you out. they didn’t want you in the family anymore and you never felt so broken in your life. you were lucky your best friend let you into her house so you helped her with what you could. you found a part-time job so you could help her pay the bills or the food while you were still training to become a wrestler.

it was hard but somehow you managed to get signed into the famous wwe.

but once you joined, you realised that it wasn’t perfect as you thought it would be. you struggled with getting booked and the first time you actually got booked they set you to lose even if you knew you would have won those matches easily. but the pay was good and fans started to recognise you more.

in reality you felt lonely and alone. you barely made any friends as they labelled you as the new one and you didn’t feel welcomed at all. your family still didn’t talk to you and due to you constantly being on the road, you lost contact with your best friend.

one special day the judgment day surprised everyone in nxt, claiming that they were looking for you so when they saw you fighting on the ring, they decided to make a special appearance and shocking everyone.

“we want you y/n” you remembered rhea saying and the crowd screaming of joy “we want you in the team” and so you joined them.

you thought it was all for publicity but truth was that they really saw potential in you. you were young and you already had a big potential of becoming a real threat for the women division.

so they helped you train. rhea and damian showed you some moves and techniques you’ve never saw before, finn was like the mind, teaching you how to trick your opponent with simple mind tricks and dominik was your comfort person, he helped you gaining more confidence, especially during your first matches.

later on you opened up about your past with them. how you basically had no family as they kicked you out, how you had no friends because the girls at nxt didn’t like you and how lonely you felt but they made sure to change all of that. they always included you in their car trips, sundays together and movie nights.

you finally felt like you belonged somewhere.

so you couldn’t believe of what you were witnessing while watching rhea losing against liv at summerslam. tears in your eyes as you watched dominik turning on rhea and betray her like that.

you were backstage watching the whole match with finn and jd and you couldn’t stop your hands from shaking.

“no no no no…dom please…don’t do that…” you whispered as your eyes were glued to the tv.

you couldn’t deny there had been tension this past weeks but you were the judgment day, you always solved all the issues you had so why was it happening now?

“y/n…” finn slowly approached you. his heart was breaking for you, mostly because he knew what was going to happen and mostly because he knew you didn’t deserve to be put into this mess.

“finn…we have to do something we…” he hugged you because he couldn’t lie to you. he couldn’t find words to comfort you because what he was going to later was gonna make you hate him.

you cried into his arms until damian broke into the room and started screaming. he was visibly upset and he couldn’t understand why dom turned on rhea.

“did you know that?” he started screaming at finn but before he could answer you jumped in.

“of course he didn’t…”

“no i didn’t know man” finn lied. he didn’t care about lying to damian, but you, after he said that he simply left the room without saying anything to you.

you stayed there, confused while your brain was trying to elaborate everything that happened in the past 30 minutes.

you knew rhea wanted to be left alone so you guys waited for her to calm down. she joined you a few minutes before damian’s match started “hey” you smiled at her.

“hey…” she put her arm around your shoulder and let you rest your head over it.

“you good?”

“i’ll be okay…not the match i imagined but it will be okay” she softly smiled at you. you knew she was hurting and that she was clearly pissed, but she didn’t want you to worry for her so she pretend that everything was fine.

as damian’s match began, you both had hopes for him to retain his title but everything went downhill when you saw finn turning on damian.

“rhea…what-what is he doing over there?” rhea was as shocked as you were because finn wasn’t supposed to be there.

“i…i don’t know”

“rhea we have to do something! damian’s gonna lose and…” but before you could continue, she grabbed your arm when she saw that you were about to leave the room and she stopped you.

“there’s nothing we could do y/n…” she was hurting as much as you were.

“no no, please rhea…i can’t, this group can’t break up please…” it was like losing a family all over again “we have to go there and help damian, talk some sense into finn’s head and…and”

“hey y/n…calm down, come here” she hugged you as she sensed that you were panicking “there’s nothing we can do right now…they made up their minds”

“but finn…finn, he told me everything was going to be alright, he told he didn’t know anything about dom and now, now he’s just going to betray us like that…rhea we have to stop him…” you were visibly crying right now.

but before you could continue or before, she could answer you, finn did unthinkable and betrayed dam on live tv. he made damian lose his title and while coming backstage, he had this twisted smile on his face that made you sick enough.

“where are you going y/n?” rhea asked you when she saw you about to leave the room.

you stayed there for a minute, thinking if you should go to talk to finn or go to comfort damian “i don’t know…i wanna talk to finn, i need him to tell me to my face that he doesn’t care about us, that he doesn’t care about this group and…”

“love, please stop” rhea’s heart was breaking for you because she knew how much you loved the group as it was your own family “there’s nothing we can do now…finn and dom turned on us but me and damian aren’t leaving you, i promise you”

“rhea’s right…” you both turned your heads to face damian. he had a broken look on his face and it was clear that he was hurting “we ain’t going anywhere y/n…”

“damian…” you went for a hug and he softly smiled when he felt your arms hugging him as strong as you could “i had no idea finn was going to betray you like that…he told me everything was okay and then…”

“it’s not your fault y/n…you couldn’t have known that…”

“are you okay damian?” you asked, feeling guilty that they were the ones who just got betrayed and you were the one crying about it.

“i’ll be okay…you know finn was like family to me and see him betraying me like that. it will hurt for a while but we are a family and we stay together through all of this” he smiled at you.

“i just…i wish i could talk to them and”

“y/n, love…nothing you say would make them change their minds…” rhea softly spoke to you.

“i know but they can’t break this family apart…” you wanted to say group but you never felt like you were part of a group, you felt like you were part of a family and suddenly you felt 18 again, when your parents kicked you out and turned their backs on you.

damian and rhea knew how much that affected you, how scared you were of abandonment and they promised that you would have never felt like that again. but they couldn’t keep their promise as long as they wanted because finn and dom were breaking the group apart and they couldn’t do anything about it to stop them. they knew how much you struggled to make friends and apart from them and a few other wrestlers, you didn’t have many friends.

you struggled again in the women’s faction because they all were too focus on themselves to make space for someone else, apart from shayna or bayley, the rest of them never acknowledged you.

damian introduced you to jey uso and some other people like drew or la knight and even if they were all kind to you, you couldn’t really rely on them as friends because they weren’t.

so all you had left was the judgment day, until now.

“hey hermosa…we are not leaving you okay?” damian reassured you.

“everyone leaves at some point…”

“hey none of that nonsense okay?” rhea almost scolded you “you probably weren’t expecting this, i saw it coming eventually but trust me when i say that me and damian won’t leave you alone…you still are part of this group and we ain’t leaving you behind” rhea gently rubbed your back while you were wiping some of your tears away.

“rhea’s right…we are here and we are here to stay…” damian smiled at you.

“thank you…”

“don’t thank us love, it’s the truth”

maybe, in the end you still had a family that cared about you but for now, you couldn’t wait to kick finn and dom’s asses on monday night raw.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

part two

[devoutekuna]

His child falls inlove

Includes- Toji, Sukuna, Nanami, Gojo, Geto

A/N- Geto's part is from my previous blog

Sukuna-

Sukuna practically hates anyone who isn't his wife, daughter or cook. Always thinking of them as just his next meal rather than a human. So when his daughter accompanied him in a village raid she quickly wandered off and found her new best friend. Away from the massacre as they wandered further into the forest, soon after her father had found them playing near the stream, trying to catch the fish for a gift.

Staring up at her father as he stood proudly behind her, the little boy suffering at the sight of the 4 armed man. "DADDY!" Screaming down the poor man's ear, sticking her hands out for a hug only to hug his leg instead. The flower crown tipping off. "This is my husband daddy!" Pointing to the brunette behind her, he seemed so scared of her right now, and he had the right to. "That's no son in law of mine. Scram before I eat you." Scaring the poor boy out of his shoes as he quickly ran away, not daring to look back, atleast he'd have some kind of mercy on the boy as he watched him run away, he wasn't the right type for him to eat him.

Staring up, eyes swell if tears as she watched her 'husband' run away. "But-" tears pooling down her face as she sat down, sulking as he flower crown fell off. "Get up" nudging her with his foot, he didn't like to see his loved ones crying, glancing around before squatting down beside her.

Nanami-

Coming home to find daughter sat at the kitchen table talking about her field trip, talking about how she saw the giraffes and had a parrot talk to her. She was in awe with the parrot, always talking about the rainbow bird saying her name. That was till she saw her father get home, jumping up and down as she hugged his leg.

"Guess what dad!" Not giving him a chance to respond as he tried to sit down beside you. "A boy!" Unable to finish her sentence from the excitement. Sat down criss crossed beside you, kissing your cheek as a welcome gift. "A boy! He told me I looked pretty!" She took very much pride in her outfit, especially today when she got her hair done in a new cute hairstyle, with a matching blue dress contrasting the blond her she adorned. Nodding in response to her, the way she smiled was so cute. Shaking his shoulders as she was so eager to see his reaction. "That's nice sweetheart".

Geto-

Suguru hates how his daughter has a crush on one of his followers' son, he was first happy for the fact that she looked so joyful coming back home with a real ring. Soon after he saw them playing outside, he instantly knew who's son it was.

"And then she's playing with one of the monkeys' son!?" He ranted to you, as you say on the floor trying to nurse your few months old to sleep. You didn't even pay any mind to him as he always had one of his hissy fits especially about his followers. "I should kill them all right now!" He had a deep hatred for non sorcerers, fortunately you and both of your kids had a cursed technique, so you had nothing to worry about. Nodding in response as you took it all in, "Right, yes babe, now can you get the food out of the pan?" Glancing at the cooking pot which was oversimming due to his negligence. Turning off the stove as he sat back down on the floor, making the effort rattle.

"Then he has the audacity to give her a ring!" Throwing the ring onto the table, huffing and puffing wasn't a good look on him, especially since you fell in love with him due to his sarcastic nature. "Awww, that's cute suguru" grabbing the ring and inspecting it, surely a 3 year old wouldn't be able to buy something this expensive. Hearing the soft sound of feet running towards the front door, inching a jar open as she reached for the door. "Bye bye!" Her soft voice being heard as she opened the door, eyes all going towards the front door as giggles came upon your ears.

"Hi princess, how was your day?" Watching as your husband's demeanor slightly changed to a more relaxed face, still crossing his arms over his chest. She looked so cute wearing her purple dress, smiling as soon as she saw her family. "It was great papa! This boy gave me a fish but I had to put it in the pond." His image of the non sorcerers only got worse as soon as he heard about the fish, the fish in the pond were some of his favourite types and he didn't even know how they both got into that area. Giggling as soon as you saw his face change back to a scowl, he didn't want his precious daughter to be in the same vincity of the lowlifes.

Toji-

Sending his daughter to school dressed up in allink since it was valentines day, only to receive her back with a bag full of food and a small grey teddybear sticking out. "Look daddy" swirling around her dress to show her father. "I got a gift!" Holding the gift bag up to him, the teddybear dropping out as she picked it up and walked off. Noticing the small heart shaped pin at the back of her head.

Glancing at you as he sat down beside his wife. "That's cute, she's got a gift from someone" taking small card, clearly being made by a 2 year old due to the messy handwriting. "Ya don't say" clearly in shock that his daughter found someone at school.

"Awe, maybe we should let them have a playdate then" clearly being adored at the toddlers' romance. "Hell no" inspecting the food inside, chocolate bars, sweets, even a keyring for her, taking out a chocolate bar noticing that it's his favourite brand. "Don't eat it Toji!" Slapping the bar out of his hand as you ripped the bag from his lap. Scowling at the thought of not eating. Hearing the soft sound of his daughter's feet running towards them brought him out of all his impulsive thoughts.

Gojo-

"Chocolates" flashing the chocolates his way, it was practically empty, their grubby hands running with melted chocolate as they sat in the shade beneath the tree. "Who's this?" Asking his son as he glanced at the girl who was clearly matching his off spring.

"My girlfriend!"not daring to look up at him as he stuffed his face with chocolates, he knew for a fact that his father had a sweet tooth, so he wanted to eat them all before he came,inviting the girl who gifted them to him toe at them too. The small girl waved at him, her face also covered in chocolate. Along with her poor dress, the suffering her parents would go through to get that out of her clothes.

After some convincing he had his son in his arms, hands smudging all over his collar as he carried him away, "I will marry her" reciting the exact same words gojo said to him when he was a baby. "Yeah right" knowing this child romance story wouldn't last.

[sweetnans]

I set myself on fire to keep you warm.

Pairing: f. reader/Bakugo Katsuki.

tw: mention of break up, mention of violence but not described because bakugo isn't a bad boy, soft and persistent bakugo. SMUT +18 minors don't interact. (Soft sex)

a/c: the end of this trilogy, I hope you liked it 💕

Part 1

Part 2

After the party, you didn't see him for a while. At least two weeks. A group of villains attacked his quadrant for a week straight unfolding in pairs each day. Even Shoto, your new partner, had to change teams and do a backup job.

The truth was that you were dying to know about him, and that felt wrong.

Friday came quickly, and so your day off. You were parking outside of your house, bringing the grocery bag with you and some little things you found that could work with your new home decoration. You even bought flowers for your new vessel.

Quickly, you turned the tv on, not expecting to see Bakugo in action, defeating a giant villain on the screen. The scenery was already controlled by the pros, Deku, Chargerbolt, and Cellophane were there, working as a team.

You changed the channel looking for a reality show, something that didn't remind you of your ex and everything that occupied your mind since the last time you saw him, like calling him, for example.

Silly girl knows better, right? But, what if he was hurt?

You shook your head and poured a glass of wine in a cup. That glass of wine turned in two, and when you noticed what was happening the bottle was already empty.

You scrolled through your socials, the guys were headline in almost every page, even the group chat of endeavor agency made a special shout out to them, filling your phone with photos of him in high definition.

You: I think I'm going to do something I might regret.

You waited for the response from Mina but nothing happened. You could blame her later for what was about to happen.

His contact was opened on your screen, the green button functioning as a magnet to your fingers. What was the harm in calling him? You could just ask about the fight, professionally purpose only, to gather techniques. After all, you were a little rusty in battle combat.

You were just making excuses not to feel like a shitty person. You needed to get your head clear but right now you were about to cry. Damn, you missed the bastard.

That was the hint you needed to press the button.

It ringed, one, two, three times.

"Hello?" He asked, agitated.

You felt nostalgic. After every big fight, he liked to steam some stamina off. To cool it down, like he used to say.

"If this a fucking prank you'll hear from me, I'll blast your shitty ass to-

"Hey," your voice sounded light.

You could hear how he dropped the weight he was lifting.

"Is that you?" He murmured, not believing. Maybe it was a prank from one of his friends. No, they would never do that to him. They feared him enough.

"Mmhm," you nodded even if he couldn't see you.

Silence flowed in the line. It was awkward, but not in the bad way. It was awkward for Bakugo, at least, because he never expected to be you when to phone rang. He knew that he had to be the one trying, but right now, after the party, after the fight, he was just taking his time to think about his next step.

"Are you drunk?" He asked straightforwardly.

"What? No!" You tried to defend yourself, but the uncommon pitch in your tone gave you away.

"You sound like it." You could feel his smug smile appearing on his face.

"I'm not gonna lie. I had this bottle of wine, and it just poofed itself out of existence, " you sighed. You were tipsy, but you knew exactly what you were doing.

He barked a laugh. A real one. The kind of laugh that made you feel it inside your bones. The kind of laugh that you missed for an entire year.

"It seems to me that you just chugged the bottle all by yourself." The tone in his voice was playful and his mind started to get those memories where you used to call him everytime you went out with your friends, finding a way to leave your friends alone and sneak to the bathroom or some place quiet just to hear his voice and tell him to pick you up earlier.

"How do you know that I'm by myself?"

The question made him shake his head.

"If you were with Mina or with somebody else, you wouldn't have called." He was probably right, you thought to yourself, Mina would've melted your phone down with acid before you even thought of calling your ex.

He liked the way that conversation flowed. With you, the talking about everything, the expressing, the feeling, everything was so easy for him. He felt nostalgic and eager to win you back. He needed this in his life, and he needed you.

"For the record, I warned Mina that I was going to do something stupid"

"Do you think this is stupid?" He pried for your answer. The moments you were taking to answer something so simple got him on the edge of the gym bench. "No bullshit, okay? Because I don't think this is stupid at all"

You closed your eyes for an instant, trying to think aside from the alcohol boost. You needed to get your mind clear because you had this idea in your mind, but once the idea left your mind, it was over for you and for him. In a good way.

"Why don't you pick up your stuff and come home already?"

...

To say that it took him ten minutes to arrive at your house is just an exaggeration. He made it in seven when most people took at least twenty. You were waiting for him in the front porch, the same porch that he paced over and over the first time he saw you in a year. You were standing there, with your arms crossed in front of your chest because the night was cold, but, you wanted to be there to see him, to wait for him, and to feel the excitement that was seeing him after a long day or in this case, week.

He saw your figure from his car. The tinted glass did him a favor. He was sweating. He couldn't stop rubbing his hands in his pants to ease the feeling of wetness and couldn't stop looking at you while doing it. Bakugo realized that he was taking much time regulating himself so he turned off the car and breathed three times to try to calm his heartbeat. It didn't work. He never had been that pented up about something, not an interview, not even a fight, but now his heart was about to explode.

You waved your hand at the sight of him. He didn't reciprocated but instead, he stomped to your front yard, opening the small gate that led to your garden. He climbed one step and the other so his face would be at the same level from your face.

"Hi," you said again, smiling fondly. God, you've missed him.

"Hey princess," he used the same petname that he has called you since he met you.

"Do you want to come in? Or should I go for myself so you can stay and find my spare key and use it? " You asked jokingly. He rolled his eyes but smiled a bit. "I swear that it's in a better spot, I hid it so well this time, you'll never going to find it"

"I bet you bought those fake ass rocks online and put it underneath it"

He knew you like the palm of his hand. You looked shocked, but he was just smug about it. Bakugo found it cute how you could be so naive with your antics and how he could easily read you even in the most idiotic things.

"Fuck, it's always so hard with you. Not my fault that you have such a big brain. " You flicked his forehead, and he was quickly to take your hand in his.

"Not my fault you don't even try"

That was sort of a deja vù. You used to fight on and on when you were in UA. Aizawa sensei loved putting you and him in spare combat that mostly ended up in the both of you yelling at each other. That line was one that you two used the most when he got you pinned down to the floor mat.

You laced your fingers with his fingers and led him inside your house. The TV was on, replaying one of your favorite episodes from your comfort series. He could recite the complete episode without missing a word because he was there every time you put it on his tv.

"You are watching this crap again?" He said mockingly.

"It's a classic, and I needed to do all the things I usually do when I have a bad idea in mind in order to keep it out, but right now, the bad idea is standing right in front of me" you stuck your tongue out and he pinched your nose a little giving you a peak of his soft side.

The vibe was thrilling. It felt like static vibrating his and your heart. You could feel his presence in your skin, aching for his touch, and he could feel your delicacy and love, always wearing your heart upon your sleeve.

"I'm going to make you some food so you can worn the booze off," he walked like he owned the place and moved around your kitchen gracefully, knowing exactly where you placed all the pots and ingredients.

The mere fact that he was there, like old times, made you feel butterflies in your stomach. The domestic treat of him taking care of you never got old in your senses. You had your moment, running away after the argument and the bad mental time that you were having because of lack of reasoning, then you completely ghosted him, trying to put in the past six years like he was nothing. And there he was, acting like nothing ever happened.

"These are very rare. Where did you get them?" He asked, lifting one of the ingredients and taking you out of your dissociation.

"Mhm, I don't remember," you told him, sparing a glance to the object. You walked towards him until you were by his side.

"What?" He said, contemplating your gaze.

You softened your face, and tears pricked at the corner of your eyes. Alcohol made you emotional.

"I'm so sorry," you told him.

His body was stiff, like a rock, but his emotions were blossoming in his face. He turned off the stove and passed his right arm behind your neck, pulling you to his broad chest. He took the chance that you weren't seeing him to give himaself out, exposing every feeling and every thought he had been running in his mind for the past year.

"I'm sorry too, baby," he murmured in your head. "I was supposed to be by your side, and I failed, I was a bad excuse of a boyfriend"

"I should've never abandoned you," you cried.

"I wasn't the one you deserved," he explained. "Right now, I know I am, fuck, I would even set myself on fire to keep you warm, to keep you by my side, to make you happy"

Your tears stained his shirt, leaving marks all over his pecs. He placed gentle kisses in your hair, soothing every regret and remorse out of your system.

You pulled yourself out of his embrace to look at him in the eyes.

"I never stopped loving you," you whispered.

He looked at you like you were his dreams come true. His eyes were glossy, wandering every inch of your face, looking for maybe a mistake, for you backing out of what you just said, but he didn't find a trace of guilt. You were genuine.

He couldn't keep it anymore.

His lips graced yours carefully, waiting for you to flinch or for a reaction so he could stop, but once again, you were eager too, you wanted him in every possible way.

Your lips smashed together, tearing apart all your armors. His lips graced yours, and his tongue made his way to your lips, tracing patterns until you opened for free access. He was desperate to taste you. You grabbed the collar of his shirt, pulled him closely, and then moved your hand to his neck, tugging the baby hairs of the nape of his neck.

"I like your new hairstyle" you mentioned in between sloppy kisses.

"Yeah?" He asked lost in you.

"It's different, shorter in the sides, you look pretty hot," you giggled when his smug smile crashed in your lips. "Don't let that compliment get over your head please"

"Oh, it's already there," he said, grabbing your thighs with one hand and tapping your lower back for you to jump.

You jumped, and he catched you without any effort, putting you on the kitchen table. Even with that boost of inches, you were just the same height as him, looking him straight in the eyes. His mouth was swollen and red, and your lipstick smuged in his lips. Before you could wipe it off, his lips found your neck, and he started kissing and nipping.

"Oh my, Katsuki," you moaned, he grunted at the sense that you were not able to control yourself anymore.

"Damn baby, I don't how I lived without you like this"

You locked your legs on his lower back, leaving him against your core, making you feel the heartbeat of your two members pulsing against each other.

His dick was already twitching in his pants and you were wet just for a few kisses. The time apart made its job. You weren't sure if you could take much time without feeling him completely inside of you.

"Baby" you panted. "I need you, like right now"

He always liked you when you mouthed your desires. It wasn't so common of you, so when it happened, it pented him up even more.

Beneath all the anger and sadness that he felt because of you leaving him, it was this Katsuki, the one who was like a kid with you, the one that could forgive you for everything you do knowing that you wouldn't do anything to hurt him. If you were right here with him, that was enough for him to put all his trust with you again.

You wouldn't leave him either.

Katsuki could feel you writhing against his body. After your plead, he detached his lips out of your neck and moved his hands to undone his pants first, taking all the breath of your lungs because the sight of his cock.

"Shit," you murmured to yourself, but his side smile made you notice that he heard that too.

Without any words, he grabbed your waist to pull you more to the edge of the kitchen table, positioning you to make you two more comfortable. After that, he decided that it was better for the two of you to take you on the kitchen stool, so he grabbed your ass and, without even thinking of it, nor even warning you, he took you and left you sitting in front of him.

"Are you sure?" His voice low ringed in your ears. You didn't want anyone but him. You nodded, allowing him to take off your pajamas shorts. "Open your legs," he demanded, and you obeyed.

In mere seconds, you were exposed to him. Glistening eyes wandered your body like it was sculptured by gods.

God damned him if he loses you again.

Putting his forehead against yours, he aligned himself in your entrance. He showered your nose with little pecks, trying to dissipate the growing but pleasant pain inside you.

"Fuck" you moaned against his lips and he swallowed all your pants like it was an elixir.

"You feel so good, baby," he muttered, buckling his hips into you.

He made it slow at first, but then, you could feel his balls slapping, putting the perfect amount of friction that you needed to be close to cloud nine. You were aching for him, following his pace to make it more delectable. He bit your shoulder to release some stamina and last a little longer, but he couldn't fool no one. His balls were tightened, trying to suppress the instinct to free his load inside you.

"I wont last long" he assured. "It's been a year"

His faint breath against your shoulder made you shiver.

"What? You didn't-"

"No. I tried, " He answered before you could even ask.

"Did you?"

You were curious. You couldn't blame yourself for wanting to know what did Katsuki in your year outside.

"I mean, I tried to date but never made it to the date part. Deku tried to set me up once, but I never showed"

That was kinda sad for the other person, waiting for him and getting nothing but an empty seat.

"I went out a few times, but I always ended up talking about you" you added in between pumps. "Even from a distance you cockblocked me"

He grunted low, almost devilish, like it was everything he ever wanted.

"That's what I needed to hear, that this little pussy is just f'me" he said in the shell of your ear giving you full of his length, filling you nicely and touching with the head of his dick your g-spot repeatedly.

"Shit, fuck, Katsuki-" you were out of breath. He was riding you nice and slowly. "Keep going, keep going, shit"

"Fucking, fuck god"

His seeds sprouted inside yourself, painting your walls with white stripes. Your core squeezing his cock in a way that got him almost gripping to the kitchen table.

You couldn't keep your thoughts in your mind while your orgasm crashed with his together in an instant. He grabbed you by the hair, pulling it back to leave you exposed to him. Panting against your neck, he closed the distance, giving you little kisses in your throat while caressing your thighs with his other hand, your legs trembling on each side of his body.

"A year is too much," you said, touching the locks oh his hair. He let go of your hair just to look at your eyes. You looked exactly how you looked when he fucked your brains out.

"From now on, you're not leaving my side if you want to go and find yourself, we'll find you together"

He was dead serious, but the look on his face made you extremely happy so you couldn't hide your smile.

"I don't need to find me anymore, I know exactly who I am and what I want," you said, trying to give him all sense of security back. He never doubted your words.

That night was his dream came true. You, half naked, against his chest in his big ass bed that he once thought it was too big for him alone, your legs intertwined with his, soft pants leaving your lips. You wouldn't go anywhere.

He knew that, eventually, you would be like this with him. He knew that he needed to be better for him and for you first. He knew that time would patch everything up and make you come back. He knew that this time, he would do everything in his hands to make you happy.

What he didn't know is that you were counting the days to make your way back to him.

He was absorbed in his thoughts while you sleep soundly in his arms. Thinking about the future, to be better, thinking about the past, to not making the same mistakes. He couldn't wait to spend the rest of his life with you, and also, he couldn't wait to rub the news to Deku and to make him feel like a loser for setting him up with a poor girl who never stood a single chance.

Do not edit or reupload my works elsewhere! All rights reserved.

[charliehoennam]

fists of fury.

a/n: it took me a loooooong while, but i made it just for you @harmonity-vibes

pairing: billy hope x f!reader

summary: billy invites his girlfriend's ex, and stalker into the ring to squash their beef the classic boxing way

warnings: violence, stalker ex boyfriend, jealousy

SHARING IS CARING, REBLOG IF YOU LIKE IT

Sweat trickles down your chest as your feet gently stomp against the treadmill. You breathe in and out, trying your best to keep your breathing under control using a technique you’d learned from your boyfriend, Billy.

From the corner of your eye, you spot the dreaded asshole you hate dealing with every single time you come to the gym: your ex, Tony.

You had dated for a couple of years and even lived together during your relationship. Although it’s been months since you broke it off with him and moved out due to incompatibility, Tony’s still been chasing you around the city relentlessly.

Most of it has been at the gym. You’ve tried everything to avoid the jerk like changing your schedule to work out at night instead of in the morning. It wasn’t enough for him to get the hint because he still showed up to work out at the same time as you.

Billy was livid when you accidently brought it up. You didn’t think too much about it, especially because you knew Tony wasn’t the kind of coward to beat on women. He didn’t scare you, just annoyed the living shit out of you.

Convincing Billy that you had it under control wasn’t easy, but he gave in when you agreed to work out with him at Tick’s gym.

The past couple weeks went as smooth as you’d hoped. You could finally work out without Tony pestering you to give him another change, making inappropriate comments on your form or spotting you against your wishes.

You felt like you could finally work out in peace. Until you saw the familiar face walking through the door. The way his eyes scan the room tells you he’s looking for you. Placing your feet on the either side of the treadmill, you stare at him in shock.

 You’re not surprised that he found your new gym. Your concern is how Billy will react once he notices Tony’s entered his territory.

You look over at Billy and thankfully, he’s too busy in the ring with Tick to notice Tony’s arrival. With a heavy gulp, you stop your cardio earlier than usual and walk over to take a drink from your water bottle. Your heart races with every step. You try to tell yourself it’s just from the cardio, but you can’t ignore how cold your hands as the blood rushes away from them.

“Just keep going. Act like you don’t know he’s here” you think to yourself, shaking your hands out.

You reply to your own thought with a nod and walk over to the weights. You could keep jogging on the treadmill, but the muscle training area is closer to the ring. If you’re closer to Billy, he won’t approach. Or so you hope.

Tony knows you’ve been seeing Billy for a few months - ever since you’d met and hit it off at a charity event which you had put together for underprivileged kids – but you’d already come be very special to both Billy and Leila.

You’re certain Tony knows about Billy because you’ve told him over and over again that you’ve already moved on. He always brushed it off, assuming it was a lie or some excuse to get him to leave you alone, but he insisted that he wasn’t going to give up on you.

Trying to focus on the music that blares in your headphones, you take the time to stretch your legs out and calm yourself down. You close your eyes; focus on your breathing and the addictive rhythm of the song you’re listening to.

Once you feel your legs are ready to begin your daily lunges, you turn to walk across to get your lightweight dumbbells but instead, you’re met with a wall of muscle standing behind you.

“Fuck,” you sighed ripping your headphone off to rest them around your neck.

“I was talking to you, but I don’t think you heard me. Music’s pretty loud. That’s not good for your hearing, you know.”

“The fuck are you doing here, Tony?”

“I thought I’d come check this place out. Wanna get back into boxing, you know?”

“You haven’t boxed in years” you say with a roll of your eyes as you push past him.

“Well, never too late to go back, right? Especially when the love of my life has a thing for boxers.”

You sigh annoyed and turn your back to him to continue your work-out, but you sense him following close behind you, so you decide to stop and face him.

“First of all, I don’t fetishize boxers. Secondly, I’m not the love of your life. And third, you need to fuck off, alright? It’s been months, Tony. Move the fuck on.”

“I told you, baby. There ain’t no moving on. You’re the only one for me. There’s only you.”

He reaches for your hands, but you quickly pull them back and glance at Billy praying he hadn’t noticed, but it’s too late. His broad shoulders square as he leans over the ring’s rope. Free from the gloves, Billy lifts his water bottle to take a drink as his other hand balls into a fist. Nostrils flares angrily as his jaw clenches. He’s watching closely with a predatory and calculating stare, empty of any emotion except for rage.

“Ay, Tick. Gimme a minute, yeah?” he says apathetically.

Following his stare, Tick quickly recognizes you but not the man talking to you. Having listened to Billy’s venting the past weeks, he can only assume it’s the ex he’d been complaining about.

“Billy, take it easy. You got a match next week.”

“Nah, I got this, coach.” Tick sighs watching Billy climb out of the ring.

Usually, he would try to stop a fight from breaking out outside the ring. The only reason he doesn’t try to stop Billy is because he knows he can take Tony on and also, he’s grown to hate the scumbag just as much as Billy.

“Hey, asshat! You gonna leave my girl alone or do I gotta bash your walnut brain in ‘til you take the hint?”

The punches that normally echoes throughout the gym grow quiet. The tapping of jump ropes and clanking of weight cease. Along with the silence, tension fills the gym as all heads turn to Billy.

“Billy, he’s leaving,” you reply quickly as Billy climbs out from in between the ring’s ropes.

“Come on, baby. Don’t start nothing, please. He’s not worth it.”

Billy hears your words, but all his tunnel vision can narrow in on is Tony, who chuckles and sizes Billy up with his eyes moving up and down Billy’s body, daring him to go on.

“Yeah, you think that’s funny? Let’s see if you’re still laughing when I knock your teeth out.”

“I’d like to see you try, man” Tony smirks fearlessly.

“Billy, stop” you say trying to stand in between them to stop their arguing, but your efforts are deemed hopeless as Billy gently pushes you out of his way to step closer to Tony.

“Ay! Ain’t gonna be none of that in my gym,” Tick shouts from the ring. Tony looks over at the coach, but Billy stays locked on your ex. “You wanna settle your beef, you settle it in the ring.”

Billy nods and smirks at the man.

“C’mon. Settle this like a man. You think you’re better, right? Big and bad, stalking my girl around. Put your money where your mouth is. Or are you gonna be a little bitch about it?”

“Who you calling a bitch, man?’ Tony replies shoving Billy back. “I’ll knock your ass out.”

“Make it happen, man, I’m right here.”

You sigh running a hand over your face as Billy snarls at your ex. You know Billy is more than capable of handling himself, but it doesn’t mean you enjoy seeing him fight. You tolerate it because he loves boxing.

Matches are easier to watch because it’s just business. This fight is anything but business. You fear that Billy might get blinded by his rage. The last time that happened, his wife paid with her life.

“Billy, stop this. This is ridiculous,” you say lowly as you follow behind him as he marches towards the ring.

“Stay out of it, babe. Ain’t just about you now.”

The steeliness of his words almost feels like a warning to stand down, like your pleas aren’t going to change his mind and they’re only a waste of breath. Billy can be stubborn, but it’s a man’s world. When egos are wounded and prides are stake, nothing can change his mind.

Tick’s confirms Tony’s signed waiver as Tony gloves up in one corner. Billy stands at the opposite corner, staring the man down like a lion hunting a gazelle. His body sways as he shakes his arms to loosen up, but his head doesn’t move. His gaze stays locked in on Tony, eager to strike.

There’s a darkness to his eyes that unlike anything you’ve ever seen before. You’ve seen him fight plenty of times, but this time, a cold terrifying chill runs down your spine. Your stomach drops heavily with the weight of the fear of what’s to come.

If it weren’t for the gloves, Billy’s fingers would be twitching with adrenaline. His anger towards the creep has been building up ever since you told him about Tony. His rage doesn’t simply stem from a seed of jealousy. It stems from a deeper root, one dug in the cold wet ground of his being.

He hates that a woman, his woman, can’t feel comfortable in public because this man. He hates the control over your life that that’s been stripped from due to someone who thinks he’s entitled to it.

The last time he defended his woman, he lost control. Although Tony doesn’t seem to mind Billy’s predatory gaze, after learning to channel his madness into control, Billy’s focus has never been clearer and, unbeknownst to Tony, it makes Billy that much more deadly.

You could hear a feather drop with the heavy silence in the gym. With all eyes on the ring, a bell rings and the fight begins.

Fidgeting anxiously from one foot to another, you want to look away. You don’t want to watch because you know it’s hardly a fair fight. Tony hasn’t boxed in years and Billy’s got years of experience under his many belts.

Billy puts his training with Tick into practice as the men inch towards each other. Blow after blow. Swing after swing. You watch Tony get tossed around like a rag doll. His strength to stand is still admirable, but it doesn’t long.

Once Billy’s punch sends him to the ropes, Billy loses all control. You watch, frozen by shock, as Billy is washed over by a fury unleashed like a wild dog from a cage too small.

His glove strikes Tony, square in the face, over and over again. Tick shouts at Billy, claiming the fight is over, but you doubt Billy can even hear anyone at this depth of seeing red.

Some of the experienced boxers quickly climb into the ring. One of them pull at Billy’s sweaty gray tank, desperate to separate the pair before Billy lands himself a homicide case. It isn’t until an arm locks around his head that Billy ceases his blows to Tony’s red and swollen face.

Billy tries to pull away from the men dragging him off your ex, refusing to part from him like a dog refuses to part from its hunt until it’s devoured.

As Tick and some other guys race to check on Tony and provide aid to his injuries, Billy is dragged to the locker room to calm down. You follow them, looking over your shoulder at the damage done to your ex.

“Let him go! He’s good! Just leave. Leave him alone to calm down!” you shout above the madness.

Billy paces angrily, trembling with adrenaline as the guys hesitantly follow your command. You watch him move back and forth as he spits his teeth guard out on to the floor and rips the Velcro of his glove off with his bare teeth.

“Look at me.”

He doesn’t hear you at first. Or at least, you don’t think he did though it is entirely possible that he ignored you.

“Look at me,” you repeat more firmly.

His nose flares with simmering rage as he stops in his track to turn his head, still anxiously balancing from one foot to another.

“Breathe, Billy… It’s just me here.”

Taking a deep inhale through your nose, he mimics you and releases the air through his mouth. You repeat the technique again and again, slowly approaching him like a savage and dangerous animal.

As his feet still their anxious movement and his fists begin to unball themselves, you gently lift your hands to cradle the thick sides of his sweaty tattooed neck.

He gazes into your eyes, feeling his pounding heart slowly settle in his chest.

“Come back to me, baby,” you whisper watching his healing eye blink as his pupils shift. “You with me?”

“I’m with you, baby.

[anonymous-dentist]

From the Doctor Who au I keep meaning to write:

-

Roier’s husband disappeared into the midst of the Time War just over 350 years ago.

Today, Cellbit wants to meet Jack the Ripper, so he and Roier are pushing their ways through the foggy, smelly London streets, and it’s fine. It’s just Jack the Ripper, it’s fine. It’s the British, it’s fine.

Roier can take care of himself. He’s a veteran! He’s one of the few Time Lords to actually have made it out of the war with more than one regeneration cycle to spare.

But Cellbit? He might have a very solid build and some very nice biceps, but he’s also kind of a nerd. He claims to be able to take care of himself in a fight, but Roier’s been the one saving him from all the aliens (and humans) he’s been pissing off, sooooo…

“We could have gone to the beach,” Roier grumbles.

“The beach is boring,” Cellbit huffs. “Jack the Ripper isn’t at the beach.”

“You don’t know that. Nobody knows who that guy is.”

“Not yet.”

Because that’s what they’re here: Cellbit- strange, beautiful Cellbit- has decided that he’s going to solve the mystery of who Jack the Ripper is even though, really, it doesn’t even matter.

(But what else is new?)

Roier rolls his eyes.

Once upon a time, his husband went by the title of ‘the Captain’. He was a police captain in one of Gallifrey’s smaller towns, and his sister worked by his side as the Detective.

Cellbit is a conspiracy theorist who throws bricks at police cars and criticizes serial killers not because they’re evil but because their “knife techniques” are “wrong”.

The irony is not lost on Roier, but he keeps his mouth shut.

Cellbit, despite having an entire time machine at his disposal now, wants to find Jack the Ripper, and he wants to kick him in the balls and throw him into the Thames and watch him drown.

Roier agrees. Fuck that guy.

“Fuck that guy,” Roier declares.

Cellbit nods in agreement. “Fuck him. He had so much potential.”

Roier blinks. “What?”

“Uh, I mean. He had so much potential… to get arrested and die in jail?”

Uh-huh, sure.

Roier rolls his eyes. “I think they still do public executions here, actually.”

“What, don’t you know? Aren’t you supposed to be some kind of alien super genius?”

Cellbit’s smile is sharp as a knife. (He’s soooo proud of himself. Dumbass.)

He elbows Roier in the side.

Roier elbows him back. “Not everybody can be an ‘alien super genius’. Some of us are just guys who slept through Earth Class in school.”

Cellbit shoots him a look, his smile and eyes softening disgustingly.

“Don’t sell yourself short, man,” he says. “You’re smarter than you give yourself credit for.”

He goes quiet for a second before quickly adding on: “Especially compared to us humans!”

He coughs into his fist and looks to the side, his cheeks red from embarrassment.

Oh, Cellbit…

Roier elbows Cellbit again. “Hey, be nice to humans! They can be smart as hell sometimes!”

“Yeah, sometimes,” Cellbit says, still turned away. “We can be really dumb sometimes, though. Like, with cars. And TikTok.”

“Fuck you, I love TikTok!”

“You would.”

Mildly outraged and somewhat offended, Roier gasps, “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, just that you look like a TikTok guy.”

“What happened to calling me a genius?”

Cellbit bites back a laugh, not answering. Asshole.

Pouting only a little, Roier crosses his arms and kicks a pebble and tries not to step in a river of alcohol and mud going down the side of the street. Ewwwww….

Once upon a time, Roier used to go on trips with his Captain all the time. They’d hop into the Captain’s TARDIS and set the destination to random and go on at least a dozen dates a week. They’d hold hands walking down the streets, and they would kiss quite literally whenever possible.

Cellbit doesn’t hold Roier’s hand. Their fingers brush, but that’s it.

(Roier misses him so bad…)

Roier’s wedding ring feels so cold. He can only imagine how freezing the chain necklace around Cellbit’s neck is.

But they keep walking, and they keep talking, and Roier can almost pretend it’s the same as it was before the war. He wasn’t on the last of his set of 12 lives, his husband wasn’t… a fucking idiot.

Cellbit trips over a loose paving stone and almost falls, but Roier catches him by the arm and pulls him back upright- their first real physical contact since Roier picked Cellbit up for that first trip away from Earth.

Just for a second, Cellbit looks like he’s going to break. His eyes water, and his mouth thins, and his lip threatens to start wobbling pathetically.

But he pulls himself together, and he pulls his arm away.

“Thank you,” he quietly says.

He holds his body close to himself and looks anywhere but at Roier.

Roier sighs, but he smiles, anyway. Of course he does. He’s Cellbit, how could Roier not smile at him?

(This, at least, has stayed the same.)

___

If you liked this little excerpt, please reblog and comment/ask/Whatever! It really does mean a lot to me, and it lets me know that people want to read more!!

[afwfan]

Try outs

Sandra speaks, "Tell us about yourself..."

"I like competing. I have to admit I like to win. Not team things, people can let you down. One on one, it's just me."

"Why this?"

"I was always wrestling with my brothers as a kid, but the wrestling team was a dare. And then, the first time I got them, my opponent, that look of desperation on her face just before the pinfall was called. I was hooked. I got good and stayed with it through school. After school finding clubs was harder, so I wound up taking up Jiu Jitsu classes instead. Again, when you catch them, that buzz when they get so desperate and then tap or, even better, go to sleep."

"But you lift too, yeah?"

"I was lean and had long hair and go noticed. I'm big into comics and I tried cosplay, and that hooked too. Modelling, cosplay... The breast surgery was a few years ago and that all helped. Never liked being skinny, wound up fitness modelling. Was never going to do runway."

"Why here?"

"A lot of competitors here, and I've heard you pay for video work?"

Sandra makes a note, her guest has asked so now it's ok to discuss. While Sandra is making notes, Lilith pipes in next.

"Live shows?"

"Well I've competed live in heaps of tournaments, and I've walked the stage live in heaps of swimsuit and cosplay contests. I'm kind of excited about doing a show."

While Lilith is making her note, Sandra pipes in again.

"Boxing or kick-boxing?"

"I'm ok throwing a punch or kick in a wrestling match, but straight up boxing... My technique isn't that good. Was never so much interesting to me. I'll throw hands if I have to, but a skilled striker would take me out pretty easy."

Sandra and Lilith at the same time, "Topless?", then slightly embarrassed looking at each other.

A chuckle, "Yeah, I'm down with that. Oil wrestling too. I've seen your catalogues and I've gotten reports on a couple of live shows from a friend."

"Friend?"

"Boyfriend. I was out of town. Disappointed he didn't take me. He made it up later though. I'm better on the mats than he is."

Lilith speaks again now, "Ok if we ask for a tryout? Just a test match up, to see how you move, how you fall, and some of what you can do."

"Of course. How about pro-style?"

Sandra and Lilith are both suitably impressed with their new tryouts look. The tryout is impressed with Kyong.

"She's hot...." The directly to Kyong, "I bet you've even hotter when it hurts."

Sandra clears her throat, "This is a tryout. Save that attitude for interview and promo work." All the same, Sandra is already thinking this one can generate heat. Can she generate pop in the ring?

Pretenses dropped, fist bump and the collar and elbow.

She can definitely move. She can definitely take a bump. She can definitely pop. And when she catches Kyong? Sandra and Lilith both agree. This is hot...

[silver-rings-and-rabbits]

Heart to Heart

Nightmares were not a new phenomenon. Everyone had suffered at least once, and Matthew Valentine was no exception. Like most children, he had had nightmares at an early age, and then again during his early teenage years when a death in the family had shaken him to his core.

Lack of sleep was par for the course in the medical field. Matthew had learned to function on four or five hours a night. The worst he could remember it being was a night in his intern year, during the Mrs Martinez investigation, when he had turned up for a shift after no more than ninety minutes of sleep. But this was different. This was a plague that haunted him every night since the attack on the senator. Fitful bouts of sleep, punctuated with images of long, dark hallways, the robotic beeping of a heart monitor, the feel of cold plastic, and three faceless bodies in hazmat suits looking down at him as he lay in a hospital bed, unable to move. 

Matthew woke with a gasp, his heart pounding, a sheen of sweat on his forehead. With a shaking hand, he clicked on his bedside lamp and a soft light filled the room. His own room. His own bed. Matthew let out a breath and sank back against the pillows, wiping his hand across his forehead. The clock on his bedside table read 22:55 and he sighed. He had only been asleep for an hour. There was no way he could keep himself awake until morning.

He sat up slowly, breathing deeply, and reached for the glass of water beside his lamp, sipping it steadily until it was empty. He continued with his measured breathing: breathing in for five seconds, holding for three, and releasing. One of his earliest patients had reminded him of the importance of breathing and that technique had never failed him since. Keeping count of his breathing, he turned off the lamp, lay back down and slowly focused on relaxing his tense muscles. Eventually he drifted away.

He was walking down a long corridor, much longer than it should be at Edenbrook, was he even at Edenbrook at this point? But the patient rooms were very familiar, though they were dark and empty and covered in plastic. There was a slight ringing in his ears, and was that someone calling his name? Something told him not to go near it, but he couldn't stop his feet. Lights started to flicker up ahead and he got a glimpse at what was inside some of the rooms.

The silhouette of a patients body, under a sheet.

Another body, except the sheet had a long bloodstain across the abdomen.

Another body had an elderly arm hanging below the sheet, blood dripping steadily from a pinprick in the forearm.

Matthew started to sweat, breathing in short sharp bursts. He shouldn't be here, he should turn around, but his feet just kept on going. He couldn't stop them, though he tried. The ringing in his ears was growing louder and louder.

And then, out of nowhere, Bryce's voice, loud and frantic. I'm sorry, Matthew, I couldn't save her. I'm sorry. I failed you. But Bryce was nowhere in sight. Instead Kyra was lying on the bed, her chest cut open, a tumour creeping out of the wound and over her body. Her eyes were open and glassy. A trickle of blood oozed from the corner of her mouth.

Matthew stumbled, his subconscious screaming that this wasn't real, Bryce did save Kyra, Matthew had seen her recovering from the surgery. He tried again to make himself stop walking but he only ended up falling into yet another patient room where the ringing in his ears was louder than ever. Matthew had just found the source: it was a flatline.

Rafael was lying on an examination table, his eyes wide open and empty. There was a rash spreading across his chest, growing faster than what should have been possible. A black cannister rolled by Matthew's feet.

Matthew gave a silent, agonised scream, his instincts telling him to try CPR, though for some reason it suddenly felt like his limbs were encased in concrete. He knew it shouldn't matter, Rafael was alive, but seeing him lying there, cold and dead, was exactly what Matthew had been so afraid of that night.

Tears of blood suddenly ran down Rafael's cheeks.

"AAH!" Matthew woke with a sharp cry, sitting bolt upright. He drew his knees up to his chest, shaking like a leaf, desperately trying to calm his ragged breathing. Sweat was running down his forehead and his heart felt like it might jump out of his chest. His clock now read 00:07.

When they were in that room, Matthew had held Rafael's hand and looked deeply into his eyes as if he could will him back to health, only for Rafael's eyes to fall shut and his hand become limp in Matthew's grasp. Matthew was almost convinced that Rafael had died then and there; it took a minute to register that the heart monitor was still beeping weakly. When Rafael had woken up and they had started their long recovery process, Matthew took a little comfort in the fact he would never have to think about Rafael dying in his arms again. Apparently his subconscious now wanted to deny him that relief. A lump formed in Matthew's throat and he forced himself to keep breathing as he weakly reached for his phone and shot Rafael a message:

Are you awake?

Let me know when you get this.

He didn't get a reply straight away and sternly told himself that Rafael was probably asleep; it was the middle of the night after all. 

Matthew slowly sat up, then shuffled out of bed and padded into the living area. When he flicked on the main light, he heard a squeak and saw their chinchilla--Spooky--sitting on one of the couch cushions, blinking at him in the sudden light. She had a cage but they never closed it, instead allowing her to roam free.

"Hey, Spooky," Matthew whispered, going over to stroke her. She responded eagerly, grabbing onto his fingers. Matthew picked her up and rested her on his shoulder, taking comfort in her incredible fur.

His phone buzzed in his hand and he sighed in relief when he saw a message from Rafael.

Aveiro.Rafael: Yeah, just woke up. You OK??

Matthew swallowed and typed out a reply.

M@thewValentine: Bad dreams. Just wanted to check in.

Aveiro.Rafael: Believe me, I get that.

Aveiro.Rafael: Do you want to come over?

M@thewValentine: What, right now?

Aveiro.Rafael: If you want to.

Aveiro.Rafael: It would be nice to have your company.

Matthew's heart fluttered a little. Now more than ever he treasured the time he spent with Rafael. Before the memorial, a few days ago, they had shared a glorious kiss in the park, but they still hadn't properly talked about what happened over the summer.

M@thewValentine: Thank you. I'm on my way.

Aveiro.Rafael: Great :) Text me when you're close, I'll let you in.

Forty-five minutes later, Matthew was walking down the road--lit by the familiar streetlamps--to Juliana's small house. He shot a text to Rafael to say he'd be there in a few minutes, but as he approached the house he was surprised to see Juliana herself at the door. 

"Rafael told me you were coming," she said gently, before Matthew could say anything. "Come in darling."

As she lead Matthew into the house, he caught sight of her tired eyes and hollow cheeks and felt a rush of sympathy for her; Juliana loved Rafael so much, Matthew doubted she would have been able to survive his death. 

"Have you slept at all?" he asked her, and Juliana shook her head ruefully.

"I try, but I can't stay asleep for long. I keep thinking something will happen if I'm not there...and I don't want to hover over him too much, he hates that, although he'd never say anything...but..." Juliana trailed off and swallowed back tears. Matthew put a hand on her shoulder.

"I can stay with him tonight. I'll take care of him. Just, please, get some sleep."

Juliana hugged Matthew tightly and he heard her sniffle. He rubbed her back gently and they stayed that way for a few minutes before Juliana pulled away.

"Go on up to his room, he's waiting for you."

As Matthew approached Rafael's room, the door opened. Rafael stood there, dressed in pyjamas, his curly hair dishevelled. His eyes were a little puffy.

"I thought I heard your voice," he said, smiling gently.

"You're here," Matthew said, weakly. He suddenly didn't know what else to say, he just knew that Rafael was alive and well and standing right in front of him. 

Rafael frowned and pulled Matthew into a tight hug, speaking softly to his grandmother, in Portuguese, over Matthew's shoulder, before leading Matthew into his bedroom and carefully closing the door behind them. He guided Matthew over to the bed, where Matthew sat on the edge of the mattress, raking his hands through his hair. Rafael sat beside him and rubbed his back.

"Matthew, what happened?" Rafael asked, his voice full of concern. "Talk to me. Please."

"Just the nightmares..." Matthew whispered, hoarsely. "There's one I've been having every night...I don't fully remember the details but I'm back in that room, completely alone." Matthew gulped and turned to look at Rafael, who took one of his hands, linking their fingers together and holding tightly.

"The one I had just now...it was new," Matthew continued. "I was walking down a corridor and all these patient rooms were covered in plastic. I think I saw Mrs Martinez and the pregnant woman you brought in that one time but...they were both dead." Matthew took a shaky breath and leaned heavily against Rafael's side. "And then I saw Kyra and she was dead...and so were you..." Tears filled Matthew's eyes and he tore his hand from Rafael's to cover his face.

"Hey, Matthew," Rafael said soothingly. "It's OK. I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere." He gathered Matthew in his arms and held him tightly. Matthew clung to him desperately, sobbing into Rafael's neck.

"It was just...the way you died, Kyra too...the worst thing...and that night in the room, when I was alone, I really thought I'd never see you again." Matthew pulled back a little to look at Rafael and saw that he had tears on his face too. When Matthew reached out to brush them away, Rafael caught hold of his hand and kissed it. Matthew leaned forward, pressing his forehead to Rafael's, looking him straight in the eye.

"I don't think I've ever been happier to see you than I was when you came out of your room just now."

Rafael let out a quiet sob and the two hugged each other tightly, falling back onto the bed, quietly crying into each other and comforting each other simultaneously. Matthew buried his face in Rafael's shoulder, once again listening to his beating heart, treasuring how it felt to be back in Raf's arms, how warm his skin was. He felt Rafael pressing his cheek to the top of Matthew's head...and his tears falling into Matthew's soft hair. 

Eventually, the sobs subsided. Matthew pulled away a little, carefully brushing a stray tear off Rafael's cheek. Rafael took Matthew's hand and held it over his heart.

"You feel that, right?" he whispered, and Matthew nodded. Rafael placed his own hand over Matthew's heart and the ghost of a smile flitted briefly across his face when he felt the pace increase slightly.

For a little while, neither of them said anything. They merely lay together, hands over hearts, cherishing the warmth of the other, the concrete proof they were alive.

"I wanted to ask before, but is everything else OK?" Rafael hesitantly asked. "Apart from the attack, I mean. When I first told you I was leaving. That day you seemed very stressed and upset. You still looked like you weren't sleeping back then."

Matthew remembered that day that felt like so much more than a month ago. The day Jackie had rushed him to Kyra's office to find her hacking up blood, the day he had run the tests that showed exactly how much her cancer had spread, the day he thought--not for the first time, and certainly not the last--that he would lose Rafael for good.

The day he had allowed June to talk him into breaking into Mass Kenmore and convincing that senator that he should leave Kenmore and be treated at Edenbrook instead.

Guilt suddenly swelled inside him. Did that mean he was indirectly responsible for the near-death of Rafael and the actual deaths of Bobby and Danny? What if the senator hadn't come to Edenbrook and the attack had happened at Kenmore? Would it have been him watching helplessly as Aurora spent the night deteriorating and Tobias frantically searched for both the poison and it's antidote? Would Rafael be in Brazil right now, Sora on his way to visit, with Matthew left behind with nothing but old memories?

"Matthew."

Matthew blinked. Rafael was frowning, his hand resting on Matthew's cheek, brushing away the tears that Matthew hadn't realised were falling.

"Sorry," he muttered. "Just...got caught up thinking." He suddenly cuddled closer into Rafael's chest. Rafael's arms tightened around him. 

"The truth is, I wasn't OK," Matthew sighed. "The hospital's financial situation was weighing on me, we'd just lost a potential research grant to Mass Kenmore, I let the stress hurt my friendship with Aurora even though I said I wouldn't, and then Kyra's cancer got worse and at the time she seemed doomed, and you were with Sora and you were moving and I wouldn't have you around at all..." He choked up, a lump in his throat. Pulling away from Rafael's chest, he looked at him directly.

"I've missed you so much," he whispered, brokenly. "I've tried to move on but I really haven't." He turned away, suddenly feeling pathetic.

Rafael didn't quite know what to say to Matthew's confession. He carefully put a hand on Matthew's arm. "Listen...I meant it when I told Sora I still had feelings for you. They never went away." A lump was growing in Rafael's throat now, but he ignored it. "I made the wrong choice over the summer. I'm so sorry, Matthew."

Tears formed in Rafael's eyes, but he blinked them away. Matthew's hand found Rafael's. He turned back to look at him.

"Why did you do it?" He asked. "Please, just tell me the truth."

Rafael nodded, though he was nervous.

"OK. The whole truth. I guess...obviously Sora and I dated in high school, and then I stayed in Boston whereas he went to college in Nevada. There was no bad blood when we broke up, we were just going in different directions. We stayed in touch a little at first, but then we drifted apart. I got my college degree and joined the paramedic service. To be honest, Matthew, by the time I met you I had almost forgotten about Sora."

"Right..." Matthew nodded. "So...what happened? I know we never actually defined what we were but I thought...I thought we had something..." Matthew trailed off, remembering the pain of the break-up and how he'd spent days wondering what could have changed so quickly.

"We did. I really, really cared about you. I still do." Rafael squeezed Matthew's hand, silently imploring him to understand.

"Sora had told me he was moving back to Boston and I didn't think much of it. I just thought it might be nice to catch up with him again," Rafael continued. He sighed, looking at Matthew fully, still holding his hand. "When he and I met up again...I was a little attracted to him, which surprised me. And I'm not trying to make you feel bad here, I just want to give you the whole truth."

Matthew closed his eyes against a stab of pain in his long-suffering heart but he held on to Rafael's hand.

"Go on," he encouraged.

"You didn't always have the confidence in yourself last year, Matthew, but you really were someone to be proud of. How you unanimously won your trial on the Mrs Martinez case, how you diagnosed Dr Banerji...I was always so impressed by you. Your career was on track to take you wherever you wanted. I didn't think I would ever leave Boston. When Sora came back to town, it wasn't ever as much attraction as I'd ever felt for you but...it made me think."

Matthew frowned. He didn't like where this was going.

"You're very clever, very talented. I didn't ever want to be the one to hold you back from any opportunities that came your way. As I got to know Sora again, the more I thought he was more on my level."

"And...I wasn't?" Matthew asked, softly.

"No. You were above it," Rafael whispered as a tear spilled over. Saying the words aloud only made him more aware of how stupid he'd been. "I've said before that I don't have much to offer an ivy-league doctor. Sora felt...safe. I decided that maybe I should stay with Sora in Boston, but you and I could be friends while you did whatever you wanted, wherever you were needed. And then just after I told you that I had chosen Sora, I heard that Dr Ramsey had been asked to join the W.H.O. in the Amazon and it was uncertain how long he'd be there for. It only seemed to confirm that I had made the right choice...the safe choice."

Matthew was looking at Rafael, unblinking. "You...thought I was...too good for you?" he asked incredulously. He sat up in the bed, looking back at Rafael. Tears had started to fall again but he didn't make any movement to wipe them away. "Raf...hadn't we been through this last year?!"

Rafael sat up too, his stomach churning. "Matthew, I'm so sorry, I wish I..." He couldn't finish the sentence. It seemed pointless. What did it matter what he wished for? It wouldn't change anything. He had said his truth, the ball was in Matthew's court now. All he could do was sit back and accept the consequences, no matter what they were.

"Oh god, Raf..." Matthew looked at him, agonised. "You're one of the bravest, kindest, most beautiful people I've ever met, but goddammit that was the stupidest thing I have ever heard!" Matthew tugged his fingers through his hair in exasperation. "I've told you, I don't care about where someone went to school or how they grew up. That's not what makes a person. You're selfless, you're funny, and you are clever, and you've always been there for me when I need you. That's who you are, and you are the only person I have ever wanted to be with." Matthew began to cry quietly as he caressed Rafael's face. "It's only ever been you and no one else," he confessed through his tears. "And I need you to remember that."

Rafael's heart was beating fast. He held Matthew's hand to his face as he looked into his eyes.

"You'd still have me?" He whispered. "Even after all this?"

"Yes," Matthew nodded. "I've said before, I thought I was lucky to be with you." He linked their fingers together and gave Rafael's hand a gentle squeeze. "I just...I assumed that you and Sora had too much history for me to compete with," he admitted, softly.

Rafael brushed the tears off Matthew's face. "Whatever I had with Sora doesn't matter anymore," he said, firmly. "He's not who I want anymore. Matthew...maybe I don't deserve this...but I want to be with you. I know I've hurt you and I'm so sorry for that. But I promise you, I'll do anything I can to make it up to you...if you want."

Matthew's eyes widened, his heart suddenly soared. Given the circumstances, it felt wrong, but he couldn't help it. He had been hoping to hear those words for months. He took Rafael's face in his hands and pulled him in for a deep, tender kiss. Raf responded eagerly, his arms making their familiar way around Matthew's waist and holding him tightly. Matthew felt more tears on his face, but whether they belonged to him or Rafael, he wasn't sure.

The kiss ended but Rafael continued to hold Matthew close, Matthew's head on his shoulder. They stayed that way for a few minutes, letting the feeling linger.

"To be clear," Matthew said, with a gentle smile, "I want to be with you too."

Rafael laughed quietly and smoothed Matthew's scruffy hair, combing his fingers through the tangled waves. 

"Thanks," he replied. It seemed such a silly, insignificant way to express his relief and his gratitude but he couldn't seem to find any other words.

"Will you stay here tonight?" he asked Matthew, shyly. "I don't really like the idea of you being alone at the moment."

"I'd like that."

Matthew pulled off his sweater and jeans. Rafael removed his t-shirt and they cuddled together under the covers. Matthew lightly traced his fingers over Rafael's skin, and every so often Rafael kissed his hair, which sent a little jolt of happiness down Matthew's spine.

"Have you been sleeping much at all?" Matthew asked Rafael. "Both you and your grandma were awake."

"She's...been struggling," Rafael admitted, pained. "I don't have much of a sleeping pattern at the moment; I just sleep when I'm tired. But I can't seem to sleep for more than a few hours at a time. When you said you'd come over, I thought I'd wait for you downstairs and she heard me moving and came out to check I was OK. When I said you were coming over, she offered to wait and let you in herself." Rafael hugged Matthew closer. "I heard what you said to her downstairs. Thanks for telling her to get some sleep." He kissed Matthew's cheek.

"Do you think she will?" Matthew asked as he looked at Rafael, who sighed.

"I hope so, I really do. But she's been worrying about me so much. I just wish I could convince her she doesn't need to but..."

"Ssh," Matthew whispered, rubbing Rafael's back. "It's OK. It'll take time, but we'll get there."

Rafael hid his face in Matthew's hair, treasuring the scent and softness of it.

"My family love you," he said suddenly. "That's twice now you've saved my life."

Matthew shook his head, modestly. "You can thank Bryce and Harper Emery for the first time, I just handed them the tools while they did the hard work. And it was everyone else who developed a cure for the maitotoxin."

"I know that but...I was a lot less scared than I would have been if you weren't there."

Matthew leaned in and gave Rafael a loving kiss, Rafael stroking his cheek as he did so. When they broke apart, Matthew whispered, "Please try not to make it a third time."

"I'll try," Raf promised, and Matthew kissed him again. Rafael kissed him back sweetly, trying to convey the depths of his gratitude in one kiss. He wasn't sure if it worked, but he thought he could feel Matthew smiling against him.

Breaking apart, they lay side-by-side, gazing at each other.

"When I was holding your hand in there..." Matthew swallowed, "I remembered the day I first met you."

"Yeah?" Rafael asked, his eyes widening a little.

Matthew nodded, blushing. "I suddenly remembered little things I barely thought about. I remembered the difference in the temperature of the ER and the temperature outside, and the smell of smoke that was coming off your clothes. And the nerves that I always got when a new patient came in and I didn't know their status...it became a slightly different set of nerves when I saw you," he added, with a shy smile. "I don't know why I suddenly thought about it...it might have been the look in your eyes in that room: despite everything else, it was the same as it was back then."

Rafael kissed Matthew's forehead. "I thought about that day too...I had been focused on getting the patient to safety and then you had the brightest eyes I'd ever seen...I got a little distracted all of a sudden," he told Matthew, with a light chuckle. 

"Damn," Matthew grinned. "Here I was thinking that nothing would come between you and your patients."

"Nah, that's you," Raf smiled. "And I've been your patient, so I know what I'm talking about."

Matthew raised an eyebrow. "OK, but I hope you realise I don't usually climb into bed with my patients."

Raf chuckled again. "I feel special."

"You are." Matthew squeezed Rafael's hand. His skin was warm, his grip strong.

Rafael's gaze softened when Matthew yawned suddenly. "Do you want a backrub?"

Matthew fondly remembered Rafael's comforting hands smoothing away his tension. Perhaps a massage was long overdue, and yet...

"Maybe another time? I actually just really want to be cuddled by you."

Affection swelled in Rafael's chest. "Of course. In fact...turn onto your other side."

Matthew did so, slightly confused at first, but he couldn't help smiling when Raf spooned him from behind and wrapped his arms around him, holding him tight.

Matthew sighed in relief. His eyes started to close and for the first time in a long time he allowed himself to get lost in the feeling of Rafael's embrace.

Some of the hurt he had been carrying for so long finally melted away.

Rafael kissed the back on Matthew's head as he also started to drift off to sleep. He couldn't help noticing that everything that had been missing with Sora was right there with Matthew.

Juliana woke up a little later than she usually did. It hadn't been the best nights sleep she'd ever had--it would be a long time before that would happen again--but it hadn't been the worst. Somehow the knowledge that Matthew was with Rafael helped her stay calm.

She wrapped herself in a lavender-coloured dressing gown and started to make her way down the stairs. As she did so, Matthew and Rafael's voices drifted up towards her. She couldn't quite make out what they were saying, but it was interspersed with laughter and then there was the unmistakeable sound of a kiss.

Juliana smiled to herself. She had always thought Matthew was a better match than Sora anyway.

[daimonclub]

Ezra Pound quotes and aphorisms

Ezra Pound quotes Ezra Pound quotes and aphorisms, a collection of his literary creations that resonate across generations. From the depths of poetry to the heights of philosophy, Pound's words encapsulate the essence of human experience. Let his insights inspire and provoke thought in your journey through life. USURY is the cancer of the world, which only the surgeon’s knife of Fascism can cut out of the life of the nations. Ezra Pound Music begins to atrophy when it departs too far from the dance... poetry begins to atrophy when it gets too far from music. Ezra Pound There once was a brainy baboon who always breathed down a bassoon for he said, "It appears that in billions of years I shall certainly hit on a tune." Ezra Pound With one day's reading a man may have the key in his hands. Ezra Pound The act of bell ringing is symbolic of all proselytizing religions. It implies the pointless interference with the quiet of other people. Ezra Pound Pay no attention to the criticism of men who have never themselves written a notable work. Ezra Pound No man understands a deep book until he has seen and lived at least part of its contents. Ezra Pound A general loathing of a gang or sect usually has some sound basis in instinct. Ezra Pound Fit for kings, formal gardens afford an earthly Elysium and the odd impression that we mere men might actually control nature for a time. Ezra Pound Literature does not exist in a vacuum. Writers as such have a definite social function exactly proportional to their ability as writers. This is their main use. Ezra Pound Literature is news that stays news. Ezra Pound The art of letters will come to an end before A.D. 2000. I shall survive as a curiosity. Ezra Pound If a nation's literature declines, the nation atrophies and decays. Ezra Pound A crowd pagan as ever imperial Rome was, eager, careless, with an animal vigour unlike that of any European crowd that I have ever looked at. Ezra Pound The eyes of this dead lady speak to me For here was love, was not to be drowned out. And here desire, not to be kissed away. The eyes of this dead lady speak to me. Ezra Pound Technique is the test of sincerity. If a thing isn't worth getting the technique to say, it is of inferior value. Ezra Pound I have tried to write Paradise Do not move Let the wind speak that is paradise. Let the Gods forgive what I have made Let those I love try to forgive what I have made. Ezra Pound Artists are the antennae of the race, but the bullet-headed many will never learn to trust the great artists. Ezra Pound Gloom and solemnity are entirely out of place in even the most rigorous study of an art originally intended to make glad the heart of man. Ezra Pound The curse of me and my nation is that we always think things can be bettered by immediate action of some sort, any sort rather than no sort. Ezra Pound Glance is the enemy of vision. Ezra Pound The flavors of the peach and the apricot are not lost from generation to generation. Neither are they transmitted by book learning. Ezra Pound What thou lov'st well is thy true heritage. Ezra Pound The modern artist must live by craft and violence. His gods are violent gods. Those artists, so called, whose work does not show this strife, are uninteresting. Ezra Pound

Ezra Pound quotes collection The primary pigment of poetry is the IMAGE. Ezra Pound The natural object is always the adequate symbol. Ezra Pound There is no reason why the same man should like the same books at eighteen and at forty-eight Ezra Pound Fundamental accuracy of statement is the ONE sole morality of writing. Ezra Pound But the one thing you should. not do is to suppose that when something is wrong with the arts, it is wrong with the arts ONLY. Ezra Pound Humanity is the rich effluvium, it is the waste and the manure and the soil, and from it grows the tree of the arts. Ezra Pound In our time, the curse is monetary illiteracy, just as inability to read plain print was the curse of earlier centuries. Ezra Pound All great art is born of the metropolis. Ezra Pound People find ideas a bore because they do not distinguish between live ones and stuffed ones on a shelf. Ezra Pound As a bathtub lined with white porcelain, when the hot water gives out or goes tepid, so is the slow cooling of our chivalrous passion, o my much praised but-not-altogether-satisfactory lady. Ezra Pound I have never known anyone worth a damn who wasn't irascible. Ezra Pound It is difficult to write a paradise when all the superficial indications are that you ought to write an apocalypse. It is obviously much easier to find inhabitants for an inferno or even a purgatorio. Ezra Pound I guess the definition of a lunatic is a man surrounded by them. Ezra Pound A heroic figure... not wholly to blame for the religion that's been foisted on him. Ezra Pound No good poetry is ever written in a manner twenty years old, for to write in such a manner shows conclusively that the writer thinks from books, convention and cliche, not from real life. Ezra Pound AS A MIND, who the hell else is there left for me to take an interest IN?? Ezra Pound The worst mistake I made was that stupid, suburban prejudice of anti-semitism. Ezra Pound I dunno what my 23 infantile years in America signify. I left as soon as motion was autarchic - I mean my motion. Ezra Pound Any general statement is like a check drawn on a bank. Its value depends on what is there to meet it. Ezra Pound The jargon of these sculptors is beyond me. I do not know precisely why I admire a green granite female, apparently pregnant monster with one eye going around a square corner. Ezra Pound A great age of literature is perhaps always a great age of translations. Ezra Pound The Image is more than an idea. It is a vortex or cluster of fused ideas and is endowed with energy. Ezra Pound A slave is one who waits for someone to come and free him. Ezra Pound You let me throw the bricks through the front window. You go in at the back and take the swag. Ezra Pound Nothing written for pay is worth printing. Only what has been written against the market. Ezra Pound

Ezra Pound aphorisms and quotes A civilized man is one who will give a serious answer to a serious question. Civilization itself is a certain sane balance of values. Ezra Pound The real trouble with war (modern war) is that it gives no one a chance to kill the right people. Ezra Pound I could I trust starve like a gentleman. It's listed as part of the poetic training, you know. Ezra Pound A man of genius has a right to any mode of expression. Ezra Pound Religion, oh, just another of those numerous failures resulting from an attempt to popularize art. Ezra Pound The technique of infamy is to start two lies at once and get people arguing heatedly over which is the truth. Ezra Pound Democracy is now currently defined in Europe as a "country run by Jews". Ezra Pound If a man isn't willing to take some risk for his opinions, either his opinions are no good or he's no good. Ezra Pound Wars in old times were made to get slaves. The modern implement of imposing slavery is debt. Ezra Pound Real education must ultimately be limited to men who insist on knowing, the rest is mere sheep-herding. Ezra Pound Until you know who has lent what to whom, you know nothing whatever of politics, you know nothing whatever of history, you know nothing of international wrangles. Ezra Pound America is a lunatic asylum. Ezra Pound What matters is not the idea a man holds, but the depth at which he holds it. Ezra Pound It is the business of the artist to make humanity aware of itself. Ezra Pound What matters most is not the idea, but the capacity to believe in it completely. Ezra Pound When words cease to cling close to things, kingdoms fall, empires wane and diminish. Ezra Pound To say that a state cannot pursue its aims because there is no money, is like saying that an engineer cannot build roads, because there are no kilometers. Ezra Pound The temple is holy because it is not for sale. Ezra Pound Wars are made to make debt. Ezra Pound The what is so much more important than how. Ezra Pound Use no superfluous word, no adjective, which does not reveal something. Ezra Pound The concept of genius as akin to madness has been carefully cultivated by the inferiority complex of the public. Ezra Pound Either move or be moved. Ezra Pound Liberty is not a right but a duty. Ezra Pound Every great change is simple. Ezra Pound

Ezra Pound quote on the lunatic Why fight for a flag when you can buy one for a nickel. Ezra Pound I guess the definition of a lunatic is a man surrounded by them. Ezra Pound Adolf Hitler was a Jeanne d'Arc, a saint. He was a martyr. Like many martyrs, he held extreme views. Ezra Pound It would be about as easy for an American to become a Chinaman or a Hindoo as for him to acquire an Englishness or a Frenchness or a European-ness that is more than half skin deep. Ezra Pound I found after seventy years that I was not a lunatic but a moron... I should have been able to do better. Ezra Pound Man is an over-complicated organism. If he is doomed to extinction he will die out for want of simplicity. Ezra Pound The artist is always beginning. Any work of art which is not a beginning, an invention, a discovery is of little worth. Ezra Pound I did not enter into silence. Silence captured me. Ezra Pound When two men in business always agree, one of them is unnecessary. Ezra Pound Be not cheap or mediocre in desiring. Ezra Pound Somebody said that I am the last American living the tragedy of Europe. Ezra Pound I once saw a small child go to an electric light switch as say, Mamma, can I open the light? She was using the age-old language of exploration, the language of art. Ezra Pound Where the dead walked and the living were made of cardboard. Ezra Pound The ant's a centaur in his dragon world. Ezra Pound There is no topicmore soporific and generally boring than the topic of Ireland as Ireland, as a nation. Ezra Pound And in the mean time my songs will travel, And the devirginated young ladies will enjoy them when they have got over the strangeness. Ezra Pound Don't be blinded by the theorists and a lying press. Ezra Pound Speak against unconscious oppression, Speak against the tyranny of the unimaginative, Speak against bonds. Ezra Pound Poetry is a language pared down to its essentials. Ezra Pound Great literature is simply language charged with meaning to the utmost possible degree. Ezra Pound Rhythm is form cut into time. Ezra Pound Good writers are those who keep the language efficient. That is to say, keep it accurate, keep it clear. Ezra Pound And the days are not full enough And the nights are not full enough And life slips by like a field mouse Not shaking the grass. Ezra Pound The only thing one can give an artist is leisure in which to work. To give an artist leisure is actually to take part in his creation. Ezra Pound Science is unpoetic only to minds jaundiced with sentiment and romanticism... the great masters of the past boasted all they could of it and found it magical. Ezra Pound It doesn't matter which leg of your table you make first, so long as the table has four legs and will stand up solidly when you have finished it. Ezra Pound Poetry is a very complex art... It is an art of pure sound bound in through an art of arbitrary and conventional symbols. Ezra Pound Any damn fool can be spontaneous. Ezra Pound Learn of the green world what can be thy place in scaled invention or true artistry. Ezra Pound The artist is the antenna of the race. Ezra Pound

Ezra Pound quote on the press Come, let us pity those who are better off than we are. Come, my friend, and remember that the rich have butlers and no friends, And we have friends and no butlers. Ezra Pound Utter originality is, of course, out of the question. Ezra Pound Discoveries are made by gluttons and addicts. The man who forgets to eat and sleep has an appetite for fact, for interrelations among causes. Ezra Pound Genius is the capacity to see ten things where the ordinary man sees one, and the man of talent sees two or three, plus the ability to register that multiple perception in the material of his art. Ezra Pound I desired my dust to be mingled with yours Forever and forever and forever. Ezra Pound The secret of popular writing is never to put more on a given page than the common reader can lap off it with no strain whatsoever on his habitually slack attention. Ezra Pound There is natural ignorance and there is artificial ignorance. I should say at the present moment the artificial ignorance is about eighty-five per cent. Ezra Pound In verse one can take any damn constant one likes, one can alliterate, or assone, or rhyme, or quant, or smack, only one MUST leave the other elements irregular. Ezra Pound Religion I have defined as "Another of those numerous failures resulting from an attempt to popularize art". Ezra Pound This is no book. Whoever touches this touches a man. Ezra Pound Use no word that under stress of emotion you could not actually say. Ezra Pound The history of an art is the history of masterwork, not of failures, or mediocrity. Ezra Pound The artist is always beginning. Ezra Pound Anyone who is too lazy to master the comparatively small glossary necessary to understand Chaucer deserves to be shut out from the reading of good books forever. Ezra Pound Properly, we should read for power. Man reading should be man intensely alive. The book should be a ball of light in one's hand. Ezra Pound What thou lovest well remains, the rest is dross What thou lov’st well shall not be reft from thee What thou lov’st well is thy true heritage Ezra Pound Poets who are not interested in music are, or become, bad poets. Ezra Pound I would hold the rosy, slender fingers of the dawn for you. Ezra Pound Small talk comes from small bones Ezra Pound From the colour the nature And by the nature the sign! Beatific spirits welding together As in one ash-tree in Ygdrasail. Ezra Pound I have always thought the suicide should bump off at least one swine before taking off for parts unknown. Ezra Pound The difference between a gun and a tree is a difference of tempo. The tree explodes every spring. Ezra Pound If I could believe the Quakers banned music because church music is so damn bad, I should view them with approval. Ezra Pound A people that grows accustomed to sloppy writing is a people in the process of losing grip on its empire and on itself. Ezra Pound Compose in the sequence of the musical phrase, not in sequence of a metronome. Ezra Pound A man's hope measures his civilization. The attainability of the hope measures, or may measure, the civilization of his nation and time. Ezra Pound If the individual, or heretic, gets hold of some essential truth, or sees some error in the system being practiced, he commits so many marginal errors himself that he is worn out before he can establish his point. Ezra Pound The sum of human wisdom is not contained in any one language, and no single language is capable of expressing all forms and degrees of human comprehension. Ezra Pound Our own consciousness is incapable of having produce the universe. God, therefore, exists. That is to say, there is no reason for not applying the term God, Theos, to the intimate essence Ezra Pound Colloquial poetry is to the real art as the barber's wax dummy is to sculpture. Ezra Pound Bureaucrats are a pox. They are supposed to be necessary. Certain chemicals in the body are supposed to be necessary to life, but cause death the moment they increase beyond a suitable limit. Ezra Pound Consider the way of the scientists rather than the way of an advertising agent for a new soap. Ezra Pound Here is our poetry, for we have pulled down the stars to our will. Ezra Pound Poetry must be as well written as prose. Ezra Pound The apparition of these faces in the crowd; Petals on a wet black bough. Ezra Pound The man who fears war and squats opposing My words for stour, hath no blood of crimson But is fit only to rot in womanish peace. Ezra Pound Rhythm must have meaning. Ezra Pound To break the pentameter, that was the first heave. Ezra Pound A real building is one on which the eye can light and stay lit. Ezra Pound It is better to present one image in a lifetime than to produce voluminous work. Image...that which presents an intellectual and emotional complex in an instant of time. Ezra Pound America, my country, is almost a continent and hardly yet a nation. Ezra Pound I think an alliance with Stalin's Russia is rotten. Ezra Pound The intellect is a very nice whirligig toy, but how people take it seriously is more than I can understand. Read the full article

[sabo-has-my-heart]

The Princess’s Royal Guard

Chapter one of an Knight/Royal Guard!ASL fic I put down some time ago.

Chapter 2 will (likely) be out later today or tomorrow and posted on my AO3 around the same time.

Warnings: sparring

Word Count: 1840

You sighed as you walked towards the knight’s training courtyard. You were wearing one of your ‘simple’ dresses. Of course, being a princess, a simple dress wasn’t truly simple. Covered in lace, various vibrant colors, and other fairly ostentatious nonsense. You were going to watch the knights train today. Your father was kind, understanding, and tried not to force too much on you, that being said, he was still a king. He’d allowed you to wander the castle grounds without a small force of knights accompanying you and you rarely left the grounds and when you did it was usually with your father and a large contingency of knights. However, one of his oldest generals and a personal friend of his had apparently been training a particularly exceptional group of knights this year and your father had finally put his foot down that you have a small group of knights at all times. Especially after last week’s assassination attempt. Your handmaidens accompanied you, one carrying a parasol, another carrying a tea set, and a third carrying a small basket of snacks. The sounds of swords clanging against one another rang through the air as you reached the training grounds. You and your entourage immediately noticed by an older man who broke into a smile and hurried over to you.

“Princess Y/N!” the man bowed, “It’s been too long, last I saw you, you were still quite a small thing.” the man said, drawing the attention of every knight there.

“General Garp. A pleasure to see you again. You know why I’m here, I assume.” you stated, nodding your head in acknowledgement of him.

“Yes, your father had informed me of the situation. The 4th Assassination attempt in the last 3 weeks. Come, come.” Garp gestured for you to follow him as he led you closer to the other knights.

“I always train the best knights, many of the royal guards were personally trained by me. I even have two new boys who are showing great promise, they’re still young, but Koby and Helmeppo will be quite the amazing knights one day. But this isn’t about them. This year, I have 3 of the best young men I’ve ever trained. One is a little younger than the other two, but no less great. Actually, the oldest and the youngest are my grandsons. The man walked over to a sparring ring, two figures standing there, ready to begin. Glancing at the two armored figures, you tilted your head to the side.

“Is the full armor necessary, Sir Garp? Surely my personal knights won’t need to wear such heavy armor at all times.” you questioned, looking at the heavy chainmail shirts, helmets, shoes, and leg gear that the two, what you assumed were young men, wore. Garp laughed, his head thrown back

“These are no ordinary young men, Princess. We use real swords for many of the more experienced knights here, but these three are on a completely different level. Heavy armor that weighs them down, dulled swords that could barely cut butter, helmets that reduce visibility.” the man described, confusing you further. Garp shouted for the match to begin, the two men beginning to circle each other. The fight that ensued could only be described as mind blowing. If their armor and swords really were everything that Garp had described, then these boys were easily some of the strongest males in the kingdom, a challenge even for the aging General himself. Movements swift and nimble, elegant slices that cut clean through a wooden post of the ring, techniques executed flawlessly. You called for an end to the match, the two boys stopping, their swords inches from each other. Garp looked over at you in confusion.

“The match isn’t over yet, Princess Y/N.” Garp grumbled slightly. Few people ever interrupted a match, and even fewer commanded his own men.

“There’s no need for it to continue, I can already see how well they fight. I’d like to inspect something myself if they would come over here and remove their helmets.” you called. The two boys looked at each other, shrugged, and walked over, doing as you commanded. You wouldn’t deny that the moment they removed their helmets, your breath was stolen away. A tall young man with black hair, dark eyes, and freckles on the right and an equally tall blond with just as dark eyes and a scar over his left eye on the left.

“What do you need, Princess?” the black haired boy asked, suddenly being smacked by the blond as the blond knelt down. The first boy grumbled but knelt as well as you stood in front of them.

“There is no need for you to kneel before me. Besides, I’d like to inspect something. Remove your armor.” you demanded, seeming every bit the demanding princess. You usually weren’t so demanding and seemingly ‘snobbish’, but until you approved of your own royal guard, you would play the part, if for no other reason than to appear as a proper princess. Once again the boys looked at each other before stripping off their armor, the metal thunking heavily against the ground. Despite Garp’s protest, you leaned down, taking the chain shirt in hand before attempting to lift it. As Garp had said, it was heavy. You’d picked up regular chainmail before, on the occasion that your handmaidens agreed to sneak some into your room so you could play knight, and this was far, far heavier. Next you picked up one of their helmets, looking through the rather small sight gaps, sure enough, it would restrict a lot of vision, meaning that they’d have only fractions of a second to react if they saw an enemy. Gently and carefully taping the edges of the swords, even your butterknife was sharper. You stood back up before looking at the two men, now wearing little more than trousers, shoes, and long sleeve tunics that stuck to their skin, covered in sweat. Still, it allowed you to examine the two men. The black haired boy was a little broader than the blond, but if the tunic sticking to their bodies was anything to go by, no more or less muscular. The blond seemed more lithe, probably negligibly weaker but simultaneously negligibly faster.

“The scar, a training accident?” you asked, eyeing the blond. Garp shook his head.

“A childhood injury. He’s a noble’s son, however I took him in after his parents passed. Their mansion was set ablaze, he was in the kitchen and close enough to an exit when it reached him and allowed him to escape.” Garp explained, watching as you nodded in understanding.

“You said that there were three boys, where’s the third?” you asked, glancing back to the first two.

“You remember my grandson, Luffy?” Garp asked with a sigh. You nodded, trying not to smile as you thought back to the boy. 

“A trouble maker as a boy, always running through the hallways of the palace, barged into my room many times, thought that it was okay to play games with a princess.” you said, remembering how you used to try to play with the boy. Truth be told, you’d hide him in your room so you could play together, he treated you just like anyone else, not like a princess, and it was exhilarating. It had been the first time you hadn’t been treated like a princess. He was the reason why you played ‘knights’ instead of having tea parties with the lady’s in waiting, why you ran down the halls and hid from the guards instead of going to your lessons, though you were punished for it later and forced to take extra lessons, and why you had refused a personal guard, begging to train and be your own guard for so many years.

“He’s missing, but he’s just as strong as Sabo and Ace.” Garp said a little irritably. 

“Which of you is Sabo, and which is Ace?” you asked, looking at the boys.

“I’m Sabo, Princess Y/N.” the blond answered with a kind smile.

“Ace, Milady.” the black haired boy said simply, a smirk on his lips. While there was a certain mischief in the blond’s eyes, Ace was clearly more of a troublemaker, or at least, the one who got caught most often. You heard your name shouted before you suddenly found yourself plowed into the dust and dirt of the ground. Wide eyes stared at you and the black haired boy on top of you, gasps coming from everyone but Garp, Ace and Sabo. Garp looked pissed as he picked up the boy and began yelling at him as your handmaidens helped you up, attempting to dust off your dress.

“But it’s Y/N! I haven’t seen her in forever!” the boy whined as another handmaiden cleaned your skin of dirt.

“Luffy, I hear you're going to become a full fledged knight soon.” you said as you stood up straight, your dress still covered in dirt that likely wouldn’t come out until it was washed, noting the same old straw hat that he’d always worn as a child.

“Yup! Gramps has been training me really hard! He said you’d be coming by to inspect the knights, that your dad wants you to choose a royal guard!” the boy said excitedly as he wriggled in Garp’s grip.

“That’s correct. Garp, you said he’s just as strong, right?” you asked, looking at the older man.

“Less disciplined and much more impulsive, but yes.” Garp answered, still glaring at Luffy.

“If I may, your highness.” Sabo interrupted. You nodded at him, letting him continue, “I can attest to my little brother’s skill. Though Ace and I have frequently bested him in the past, and often still do, he’s shown considerable progress and has even begun to win in matches against us.” the blond said with a fond smile to the boy.

“Garp, you said Luffy was your grandson and Sabo was the son of nobles, yet they call each other brothers. Explain.” you demanded, temporarily ignoring what Sabo had said about Luffy’s skill.

“Ace was adopted and after I took Sabo in, they became sworn brothers. Luffy’s father, my son, isn’t around but I care for them as if they were my own.” Garp explained. You once again nodded before looking at the three boys.

“Very well, I’ll take all three of them. With three young men of such strength and skill, I should only need them instead of the small contingent that my father wishes. I’ll allow my father to choose my night guard later.” you said before looking at the three young men, “Ace, Sabo, Luffy, you three are now, hereby my personal Royal Guard. It is your job to protect me at all costs. Garp, if you will get them properly outfitted, I’ll inform my father.” you stated before turning and walking away. You heard Garp’s signature bellowing laugh as you walked away, no doubt proud of his grandsons and their new found success.

[ironfoot-mothafocka]

#KhazadWeek Day 7

Day 7: Stonefoots, Diversity and Folklore & Myths

I haven't been able to do the other prompts this week because of time constraints, but ended up doing all the prompts for the last day in one go!

--

It wasn’t typical for Ajin to stay out of the limelight when a party was in full swing, but here he was, trying his best to blend into the corner. He felt his heart beat faster inside his ribcage and he tried to hold his breath, letting it out slowly after a few moments to quell his rising anxiety.

So many people were here, and he’d seen so many new things on his journey from Harabza, the Stonefoot halls, to Minas Tirith. Gondor was a place as foreign to him as the other side of the world, but at least dwarven travellers to Ered Luin or even those that took the shorter roadway north-west to Erebor had their own kind to mingle with and a sense of familiarity once they reached the Longbeards. Here in the kingdom of Men, there was no such solace. He remembered when he had arrived a few days ago with the dwarven wagon train, and the curious eyes that gazed from every street corner and building. Some were friendly, old men remembering, perhaps, the times when as boys they had welcomed dwarves into the city, or children laughing and screaming as they ran alongside the wagons, waving up at him raucously. Others less so.

Go back to your own kind, Southron, someone had hissed at him, though he had been conversing with another dwarf and had only half-heard the muttered curse. As soon as he had turned his head, the person who had spoken had melted away into a crowd of Men, where they all looked the same. Tall, dark hair, dark eyes, olive skin. Southron, Easterling. To the Men of Gondor, those from the East were all the same, and he had both terms thrown at him by drunken warriors who lounged, broken from battle, outside taverns, or younger veterans who had lost blood-brothers in the war. To them, with his braided and shaved black hair that fell to his elbows, dark brown skin etched with striking red-ink tattoos, and the glimmering array of gold rings set in his lips and nose, an Eastern dwarf was no better than those who had served Sauron. Ajin spoke little Westron, but he understood enough to know he wasn’t welcome. At least those of the zulmâ-khazâd were treated with the respect that artisans, craftsdwarves, engineers and masons deserved.

For the most part, he ignored the comments directed towards him and the few Eastern dwarves who had journeyed at Gimli’s behest to help restore Minas Tirith to its former glory. Gimli he knew — his mother was a family friend, her sister marrying one of his uncles over a hundred years ago, and Gimli had visited Harabza where he had been instructed on some of the finer techniques of preparing vorn, the granite-hard, obsidian substance only native to some of the mountains and hills in the far south of the kingdom. It was for this reason that Gimli had chosen Ajin. Guarded by a garrison of Stonefoot mercenaries and weighing several tonnes, a king’s ransom of the precious eastern metal had been procured by King Elessar to build into the gates of the city and construct several major fortifications. Ajin’s eyes watered when he thought about the price.

At least his hosts had been gracious enough. The King had shown customary dwarven respect and could get by in khuzdul, and the house-keepers for the lodgings they had been provided hadn’t commented on Ajin’s appearance, even if they kept their thoughts to themselves. “Ignore them, Aji. Our way of life and theirs — we cannot compare them. Dwarves and Men are as different as rats and salamanders,” remarked Kurin one evening, a slow-voiced, tall Ironfist dwarf, who, with his rich ebony colouring and wild beard, had got his own share of frightened looks. He was the youngest foregemaster in Nazbukhrin, and had been part of the elite team to craft His Majesty the King of Nazbukhrin’s new axe. To Men, just another Easterner.

Ajin reminded himself this as he watched the Men in the guest-hall dancing, laughing and talking together. A few of them he’d made polite conversation with, but Kurin’s words kept coming back to him. As different as rats and salamanders. Don’t expect them to comprehend you. That was easily done though, as Ajin could only nod politely, and stutter a few words of Westron here and there. Mostly though, he kept himself to the other dwarves and to his drink.

“A fine evening, master dwarf.” Ajin looked around at the speaker, sighing through his nose and steeling himself for another conversation. “Yes. A good evening—” His voice trailed off as he looked upwards. And upwards. Something tall and thin was leaning against a marble column in front of him, a glass of wine in one hand, and smiling down at him. He blinked, trying to remove the apparition from his vision, and his fingers made the sign of the hammer inside of his pocket. He knew what the creature was, but not how it had appeared in Minas Tirith. After a few moments, the being frowned and pushed itself off from the wall. Ajin backed away. “Come no closer, inuk,” Ajin said, holding up the amulet he had worn around his neck since he left Harabza. It had the three-fingered hand on it, reaching outwards to ward against spirits. The inuk — for in Stonefoot legend, that is what this apparition could only be — looked confused and sipped at its drink. Do the inuk drink? At festivals he left red-coloured beverages at the Temple and at the windows of his house in offerings to appease them, but he’d never seen one in person. They preferred to inhabit the dream-land, the world between life and death. “I am no inuk, master dwarf, though I do not know of what it is that you speak,” the creature bowed low from the waist, and then placed its drink to one side on a ledge. “I am called Galdir, of the Woodland Realm, now Eryn Lasgalen in our tongue.” Ajin looked blankly up at Galdir. As far as he could remember, the inuk were not named. “An elf,” Galdir continued, raising its eyebrows slightly. “I am not sure if you have been acquainted to my kind before?” “Alves?” asked Ajin, once his head had gotten around the fact that Galdir was not, in fact, a spirit from the other side. “Elves,” corrected Galdir. “We are those that were created first by Illuvatar, who walked the world first before Men and Dwarves awoke.” “Oh!” exclaimed Ajin, recognising the story at once. “But… elves do not look… like you.” He was having a hard time explaining himself and felt his cheeks flush. In Stonefoot tales, the firstborn children of the One God were forest-dwelling giants, with dark blue and green-hued skin. Their hair was mossy, their teeth like chunks of stone, and limbs as strong and as knotted as great oak-trunks. Galdir was sprightly and slight, and his skin no more green than Ajin’s. Common sense and politeness, however, made Ajin think that to mention this wasn’t the best use of his limited words. “And what do we look like, to the dwarves far to the East?” Galdir asked, smiling brightly. “It does not matter. Seems our tales are… mixed up,” Ajin confessed. He bowed in return and stepped forwards. “Ajin, son of Ibural. At your service.” For good measure, however, his fingers still rested lightly upon the amulet around his neck. He wasn’t taking any chances.

[alexbkrieger13]

New and good Kosse interview and with some really nice photos (not talking about the ones of her but she looks fab). Behind a paywall later. Don't miss at the end what Peter, Marika and Zecira have to say about her.

https://www.dn.se/sport/kosovare-asllani-herrspelare-maste-inse-att-de-kan-gora-skillnad/

Ahead of this summer's WC, the situation is different.

At the same time, the Swedish star wants to be more than just a soccer player, and would like male players to think the same:

- They should realize how much they can influence young guys' outlook on the world.

Tears well up in the eyes of Kosovare Asllani.

It is Easter Monday in Gothenburg and the following day Sweden will play its last training match before this summer's football World Cup.

She has a groin injury and has already missed an international match a couple of days earlier.

When she is now forced to answer no to the question of whether she can be part of the genre rope, it becomes emotional.

So emotional that the 33-year-old, who for a decade has been one of Swedish football's leading figures, both on and off the field, has to step away from camera flashes and microphones, try to collect himself.

- You may have short questions, she says to the gathered journalists when she is back.

She almost shakes her head to herself:

- It's a practice match... why do I care so much?

Six weeks later, and at the same time eight weeks before Sweden's World Cup premiere, she makes a comeback in her club team AC Milan.

She has longed to play without pain, says Kosovare Asllani when DN meets her in her new hometown of Milan.

Thick gold rings glitter on each index finger. And except when she carefully lifts the elegant coffee drink she ordered, her hands swing back and forth.

- Do you think I talk a lot with my hands? she laughs after following my gaze.

- I have become Italian!

On a terrace above the city's well-known cathedral, she, known as "Kosse", tries to explain the background to that press meeting last Easter.

She loves soccer so much that even a missed practice match hurts.

Kosovar Asllani grew up in Vimmerby in Småland with Kosovar Albanian parents.

As a child, she followed her brothers wherever they went. It didn't matter that they sometimes tried to shake the little sister off or ride her away. The goal was the football field, and she knew where it was.

- I started competing against my brothers early on.

- I think it was love for the sport right away. And since then I've never really looked back.

The relationship with the national team has not always been frictionless, but always special. The tears in Gothenburg were about frustration.

- I couldn't bear to be injured again, says Asllani.

- It's really sick. The body knows that you are injured, but the brain sort of says "no, no, it's nothing, push on". And then you try to push yourself to limits where the body does not feel well.

How much of an emotional person are you?

- Apparently a lot! If I get so bloody for such a question.

She stormed into Swedish football ahead of European Championship 2009 and filled the newspapers with spectacular headlines. Her water bottle had the word "diva" on it. She was going to be the new star. And she wasn't afraid to give her opinion.

Her background, outspokenness and technique were compared to Zlatan's.

Two years later, Kosovare Asllani was poked out of then national team captain Thomas Dennerby's World Cup squad.

When she met DN for a long interview that fall, she was completely cut off from the national team. The phone had been silent for months, and her forthright statements in the press were used as "horror examples" in the national team's media training, according to Asllani.

Immediately after the poke, there was the thought that she never wanted to play in Blågult again. But pretty soon something else popped into my head.

- They have stopped believing in me. But... I believe in myself, said a 22-year-old Asllani.

In the Olympics a year later, she was back, has since been part of the national team and, after several championship medals, became exactly the star she once so clearly said she would become.

Nevertheless, the road has not been straight. After being left out of the starting eleven in 2014, Asllani went on a hard attack against the new coach Pia Sundhage:

- If I had been called something else, and laughed and danced and pretended to be, then maybe I would act, she said then - and once again the headlines replaced each other.

Actually, it is only now, under the leadership of national team captain Peter Gerhardsson, that she feels that she is allowed to be herself in the national team, says Asllani.

- I have never adapted, I have always been myself. On the other hand, in previous years, before Peter took over (2017) I would say, I felt that everyone would fit into this square, no one was allowed to stand out, but you looked for more faults and tried to set a standard how you "should" behave . But since Peter took over, it doesn't matter how you are.

Besides, she has matured and gotten older, she says and laughs. It is a journey in itself.

- When I was younger, I didn't feel like I fit into the Swedish national team, maybe I came in with a different attitude. But it was also the way I had been brought up to cope, when I grew up it could be a bit tougher climate.

- I said in one of my first interviews that I wanted to be the best in the world. Maybe I had a different approach than others and was more clear about my goal, but I was labeled as cocky quite early on.

It was journalists – eager to find someone similar to Zlatan Ibrahimovic on the women's side – who created that image rather than herself, she believes. At the same time, she thought it was a bit funny with a high, and continued to "throw wood into the fire".

- But really, I've never been super cocky, but just been labeled as such.

Has that stamp gotten you down?

- Yes, in previous years, absolutely. Then the pressure got to me too. The first championship was the EC in Finland in 2009. There I felt that "shit, there is more pressure on me even though I am 19 years old, than on Victoria Svensson and Lotta Schelin". But I regret absolutely nothing, because I have learned a lot.

She was on the soccer field all summer vacation .

Once Kosovare Asllani started playing on a team, she found she was way ahead of her peers.

Football was encouraged in a family where football was always on the TV. Other relatives were questioning. Why would she, as a girl, run after a ball?

- It's a question I grew up hearing, she says - not at home club Vimmerby IF, but on a visit to Kosovo.

- I remember that I almost got a little angry. Because they didn't ask my brothers "why do you play football?" I remember that my mother also got angry and said "my daughter should be allowed to do what she wants".

Kosovar Asllani throws up her hands again and states that this happened 20-30 years ago, back when she was still called "Kotten".

- But when I have been and visited smaller clubs in Sweden, there have been parents who tell me that their daughters hear the same thing today.

What do you feel then?

- That there must be a change. It's happening more and more, but for me football, like all other sports, is neutral, it belongs to everyone. But I sometimes also hear that "I like that my daughter has you as a role model, because you dress like a girl". What does that matter?

She sees herself as more than just a soccer player. Kosovare Asllani has had that as a mantra in countless interviews.

She likes to raise her voice about gender equality and the conditions of women's football at the top level. But just as often about inclusion and integration in association sports.

- There are many who may not feel accepted, and sometimes discriminated against, in youth football in Sweden. So I feel that Swedish football has a job to do.

When she made her national team debut in 2008 in an EC qualifying match in Västerås, she became one of the women's national team's first players with a foreign background.

- It's time for some foreigners in the national team, Asllani said before the debut - but 15 years later, very little has happened at A national team level.

Admittedly, there are more players with a foreign background in this year's WC squad. But in a comparison with the men's national team, or for that matter with, for example, France's women's national team, Swedish women's football lags behind.

- For me, it's about the need to train all leaders even more so that you can take the next step, says Asllani.

- Because the talents are out there. You have to give them a place and see them. Sometimes it can mean that you have to do an extra job of creating a relationship with the parents.

She takes the example of Asllani court , a football initiative for girls with a foreign background in her childhood residential area Bullerbyn in Vimmerby.

- Some of my best friends ran the project, and there they had to spend an incredible number of hours building relationships with the parents, so that the girls would even be allowed to come and train.

- It went from them getting a strict no to the children being allowed to come. And it also ended with the girls getting into association football and in the end the parents were there supporting matches. One of my best friends started crying when she saw it.

This summer's World Cup will be record-breaking and women's football is breaking attendance records after attendance records in Europe. Established men's clubs invest heavily in their women's teams - and players can today make a living from their sport in clubs such as Barcelona, ​​Chelsea, Bayern Munich and Milan.

- But I get more questions about what has happened outside the world than about formations, how we play, any particular match. And they had never asked men's players, says Asllani.

- If journalists ask men's players, it is not that they are very knowledgeable about what is happening in the world. You don't get very good answers to your questions, I would say. But we are expected to know about everything.

She personally has nothing against it, she continues. She knows that her voice can influence, and she wants to use that.

Should men's players take more of a stand on various issues?

- I think men's players need to realize what platform they have to be able to make a difference. I don't think they realize that. Because there is so much money in men's football. They play football, go home, have several houses and their entire families in place... it's easy for them to live the professional life.

- So yes. I think they should realize how much they can influence young guys' outlook on the world, because for example, not many men's players have gone out and supported women's players as they could have done.

Over the years, conflicts or exchanges of words between Sweden's women's and men's national teams have flared up from time to time.

Like when Zlatan Ibrahimovic said in an interview almost ten years ago that Sweden's greatest women's national team player could be praised for his international record with "a bicycle with my autograph on it, that will be fine". Unlike the men's counterpart - who got a car.

Or when the previous national team profile Nilla Fischer turned to men's players and men in general in an incendiary speech about equality at the Football Gala, and the men's national team felt rushed.

- If you choose your words when you talk to the media, if you support women's players and so on, it affects younger people more than you think. Instead of having someone who is the best in Sweden who says that women's football is shit. Because then that's what these young guys take with them into society, or if they see a girl playing football, says Asllani.

Should we see the last as a pass to Zlatan?

- You can say exactly what you want, but I just think it's a shame that you don't choose to use your platform for a positive purpose

Kosovare Asllani's all-white outfit – shorts and short-sleeved blazer – stands out as she poses for the camera among tourist groups and aperitivo-hungry Italians around the Piazza del Duomo.

Italian is still on the to-learn list. So far, the Swedish star is making his way in Spanish.

The career journey has gone via a first professional contract in Linköping with a salary of a few thousand - "the parents had to bring bags of food, I had a very small apartment but I thought it was big at the time" - to some of Europe's leading metropolises. Paris. Madrid. Milan.

She is probably more of a big city girl than a small town girl, she says.

- I love fashion, clothes, the hustle and bustle of the city. Maybe not many people like it when there is movement all the time, but I love it.

So far, there have been games in six different countries: Sweden, USA, France, England, Spain and then Italy. The fact is that Kosovare Asllani, apart from in Sweden, has never changed clubs within the same league. Instead, the Swedish star has often gone to leagues or clubs just on the brink of a major development journey. Gut has been allowed to rule.

- I think it's exciting with big projects.

- I don't like changing clubs in the same country, but am driven by testing new cultures, new languages, new leadership, how football is played in different countries. So choosing Italy now… I could have gone back to England or France but it doesn't appeal to me because I feel like I've done that. And Italy has always been on my wish list.

Suddenly, it is more crowded than before in the glass-enclosed fashion mall next to Milan's cathedral.

On the ground at an intersection is the well-known image of a bull, Il Toro, in mosaic. Putting one heel on the bull and spinning around on one leg is said to mean luck. Kosovar Asllani has done it before, but wants to do it again.

On July 23, Sweden begins the hunt for gold in the WC.

Three voices. About Kosovar Asllani

Peter Gerhardsson, the captain of the Swedish women's soccer team: "When I started in 2017, 'Kosse' played a lot on the left in the national team - although I thought she would be ten (the creative link in the center between midfield and attack). So she was actually one of the first that I placed. Then I like players who take their own initiative, who dare to go against me and question. She does it. She showed qualities that I thought she had, but also qualities that I didn't know about, like her skill defensively and willingness to run. She is a leader type who has great faith in herself and faith in those around her. I want brave players, and she is a brave player and a brave person.”

Marika Domanski Lyfors, long-time national team manager: "'Kosse' is cocky but in a charming way, she was when she joined the national team as well, and that permeates her whole person. Much of what she is passionate about has been helped by the fact that she has a bit of this cockiness too, she dares to say what she thinks. And I think that's good. When she opens her mouth, I think a lot of people are listening. She is incredibly important as a role model. There are a lot of little girls who have started playing football because they have 'Kosse' as their idol. And then it's not about her background - but about her way of being."

Zecira Musovic, national team goalkeeper and England professional: "When I was younger, I didn't have a very good grasp of Swedish women's players, because the coverage of women's football was not that great. But I now see what a role model 'Kosse' is for today's youth. It is important to have people to look up to in order to be able to dream yourself. You have to be able to see it to be able to believe that you can also get there, or further. She is a fantastic person and a great player who is extremely important to our national team. I am truly delighted to share a football generation with her. She is a great teammate and fantastic team player. A friend who is close to me.”

[arielsojourner]

Okay, so this idea won't. leave. me. alone. Even though I have an unfinished series (or three) that I haven't worked on in YEARS. ARG! Fine! I will get this out of me! Here are the rest of the headcanons I have for this story that I REFUSE to write.

Damian throws a fit when he realizes that the horses in the Equestrian Events don't get medals. He is furious. He DEMANDS they get medals. He even insisted on participation medals. All horses are good horses. (Bruce funds medals and Damian has his OWN medal ceremony for the horses. Alfred resigns himself to horses when they return home to Gotham.)

Dick is like the most BELOVED athlete. He is so kind, so helpful, so giving, that he wins the Games' sportsmanship medal. He especially wins it because if he sees any athlete being discriminated against, he stands up against it and through kindness alone shames any people who try and treat him poorly just because he is Roma. (Tim takes down the names of everyone who DARES act like a bigot against his brother (and bigoted to other athletes or sexist or transphobic etc.) and sends the info to Barbara who get sweet IT revenge on them for their intolerance. Jason just hunts them down to beat the shit out of them. Damian breaks out his poisons.).

Alfred refuses to find the Olympic Village food up to his standards. They can't even get the TEA right. So he takes it upon himself to bake (Jason joins him) and he starts hosting afternoon tea with proper cakes. Team GB and many other nations that were once colonized by Britain find it soothing. The French chefs are not happy. Jason thinks he is the one who intimidated them to back down but it was really Alfred's cool eyed glare over Jason's shoulder.

Tim would like to visit the Louvre (and Damian certainly goes more than once) but Interpol won't stop following. So he engaged in some art theft while bringing Bruce out of the time stream. Does that mean he should be deprived of museums for the rest of his life?

No one knows what to make of them. The other athletes are all "Is this normal for Americans?" and Team USA is like "No. They're from Gotham. They don't count." And the rest of the world has no idea what that even MEANS.

The press waits eagerly for Tim to emerge from where he has set up his dark room every day. Tim hands out a few pictures to those he likes. The rest fill up personal albums that he he hordes and conceals away to look at the way Gollum did the Ring (no, Tim does NOT have a problem! Stop saying that!) He does get a fee for each photo which he then promptly donates to the Olympic Refugee Team to help them pay for all their related expenses so they can keep competing.

Bruce falls into the Seine. When he is rescued (And medical personnel are on hand since the water isn't safe at that time) he pulls out his phone and announces that he knows just what will help get the water clean and ready for the athletes. The Seine doesn't even come close to Gotham Harbor. Wayne tech can clean up this slight problem in a jiffy. The paramedics seem baffled that he isn't sick. Jason (who was responsible for Bruce falling in in the first place) just rolls his eyes. Anyone who isn't a Gothamite is fragile.

They can't help themselves. They end up trying different sports with the athletes when they are training at the venues. Money gets them access (yes, Jason, you can be mad about billionaires later, just enjoy the shooting range). Tim gets mistaken for a competing skateboarder ("Why aren't you on the team?" "I have a busy job." "As what? You're 17 and rich AF." "CEO of WE.") Damian was initially drawn to the saber and fencing events but once he discovered the horses, his heart was stolen.

Dick "tries out" other sports with his new athlete friends. This proves to be a bit of a problem. Dick learned swimming techniques from Atlanteans. He can actually do what women artistic gymnasts and rhythmic gymnasts do. He kind of scares everyone in the high jump and if it was official he may have just broken a record.

Jason meanwhile has fun with the wrestling and judo until Bruce shows up and wants to try but he is being total Brucie and Jason eggs him on until Bruce shows up on the mats. Oracle has to scrub all the videos.

Tim also meets up with Cissie who is on the US Archery team. The other Core Four show up. (Bruce calls in a lot of Justice League favors and the rest of the Core Four are escorted home. Don't come at me, there is only so much suspension of disbelief the public can handle. Dick's last move in qualifying defied physics. He's not a meta, they test for that at the Games but still it is DAMN suspicious. Tim thinks this is unfair. He thinks Jason's nightly Red Hood moonlighting is more suspicious).

Alfred thinks that perhaps the Closing Ceremonies cannot come soon enough but then when a reporter asks Bruce about returning home, he laughs and says "We can't leave Paris now! There's still the Paralympics to go! We're no fair weather fans! We are here for Team USA all the way!"

While Dick really wanted to wear Robin colors for his exhibition performance, even he agreed it would be too much so he went with another costume choice inspired by circus days. The entire world got to see the glamor of Discowing as it was originally intended. (The family watching was mortified at the horror of it all. The people of France embraced Dick as a fashion ICON and crowned him best dressed of the entire Olypmics. Dick was very smug about this. He had found his people at last!)

america's sweetheart olympian 🥇

[feuilletonette]

𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐀𝐋 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃: 𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐠𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐚𝐠𝐞

The months that followed my initial attempt in shifting were marked by a sense of stagnation. Despite my best efforts to immerse myself with the very concept, my endeavors on platforms like the Amino app proved to be more overwhelming than enlightening.

It became increasingly clear that my tendency to overconsume information was serving as the main blockage of my journey.

Driven by an insatiable thirst to know everything, I found myself constantly seeking out new resources and methods. Yet, as the volume of information continued to mount, I became paralyzed by indecision. The sheer magnitude of options left me feeling lost and unsure of where to begin. Although I had subscribed to various methods and techniques, I struggled to muster the energy to follow through them. The weight of my own expectations and the fear of failure loomed large, sapping my motivation and leaving me feeling drained.

I was trapped in a mindset of constantly seeking more knowledge and acquiring various items to aid in my shifting journey. Whether it was the need to attain crystals that would help me clear the blockages, reading everything I could about the multiverse theory and quantum physics, or tools like Draco’s wands and Slytherin rings, or posters or scented candles that smells like my dorm in Hogwarts—all for the sake to feel more connected.

But this is the case, this is the problem I was trying to make. It was loop of dissatisfaction down the bits such as perfecting my scripting before attempting to do anything else, and that meant reading through every fanfiction recommendations to know more about these characters and immersing myself with Great Britain’s culture to have the best, perfect reality, operating as if the entire universe I wanted to go to wasn’t already established. It was not hard to formulate a conclusion that my approach was extremely counterproductive.

At this point (Year 2021), moreover, I still harbour unhealthy affections for Draco Malfoy but it is also the same year people who initially attempted to shift for him (and succeeded) experienced insurmountable shame upon having to try it the first place. It made me question things and affected me more than I expected, especially for someone like me who considers him as their significant other in my own DR.

That is when I took a break, being occupied with the new transition of having to switch cities and entering a prestigious school, adjusting to the ‘new’ normal world as it was addressed before. So, I took my time and the opportunity to confront my own issues. It was in this process I outgrown a lots of things (even Draco himself) but it seemed that shifting isn’t one of them.

Now that I recognise that I was operating under the clutches of my limiting belief that I was not doing enough had led me to a significant breakthrough that just didn’t happen overnight. It was a tedious process before I’ve come to understand that this feeling originated from my tendency to attach my self-worth with my external achievements, possessions, and therefore, validation.

It took me years being exposed to devastating situations not directly linked in this context but a necessary means for my spiritual growth to eradicate this subconscious checklist in my mind that constantly indulge me to the things I once believed I must accomplish or obtain before I can truly succeed in my endeavours.

I have several attempts past forward the first night I tried to shift, some were not so much prat about but some I knew, deep in my core that had been so close and those were several. But because my mindset at that period was in a constant creation of a never-ending cycle of feeling inadequate, always chasing after something elusive to prove my worthiness, I wasn’t in alignment to the person I want to become and therefore the experiences along with it.

Though, I must admit, being introduced to traversing alternate realms has been a significant catalyst for my spiritual journey. Had I not dared to question my preconceived notions about this concept back in 2021, I wouldn’t have ventured into others that have followed: the manifestation and the law of attraction in which my journey had been in conjunction with each other as I progressed ever since.

I couldn’t stress enough how amazed I am to see how each step I take on this path leads to new insights and revelations, expanding my consciousness and deepening my connection to the universe. I had grown so much, I have come to want different things. It was almost ridiculous to think about it now that I am able to lift my perspective from the version of myself I have already—if not in the process to—shed.

But if you must ask, had I reach the end? Even though I do recognise them now, it doesn’t necessarily mean that I had already eradicated the beliefs that no longer serve the woman I am becoming. That is why I made this blog to further elaborate and document the process I am going through in which I have grown to love. It’s not in anyway perfect, but there is much more ease, compassion, and recognition of worth in my part.

Along with the relationships I look forward to foster in my new DR, that requires much more involvement from the Marauders. As cliché as this may sound, I feel wiser, more capable, and more at ease to let go because I know that regardless of the variables, it will eventually happen.

© FEUILLETONETTE, 2024

[healthguru1]

Quietum Plus: Restoring Clarity and Peace to My Hearing

For years, a constant ringing plagued my ears. It wasn't debilitating, but it was persistent, a nagging background noise that made it difficult to concentrate and disrupted my sleep. I tried everything – earplugs, white noise machines, even some strange relaxation techniques. Nothing seemed to work.

A Natural Solution

Frustrated and desperate for relief, I embarked on a research journey. That's when I stumbled upon Quietum Plus, a dietary supplement formulated for ear health. The all-natural blend of vitamins, minerals, and herbal extracts promised to improve hearing function and reduce tinnitus, the technical term for that awful ringing. Skeptical but hopeful, I decided to give it a try.

A Blend of Potent Ingredients

What initially drew me to Quietum Plus was its focus on natural ingredients. The formula includes impressive components like:

Ginkgo biloba: This herb has been used for centuries in traditional Chinese medicine and is believed to improve blood circulation, which can be beneficial for ear health.

Juniper berry: This extract boasts anti-inflammatory properties, potentially reducing inner ear inflammation that might contribute to tinnitus.

Vitamin B complex: These vitamins play a crucial role in nerve function, and deficiencies can be linked to hearing problems.

Quietum Plus also contains other vitamins and minerals like folate, magnesium, and zinc, all of which contribute to overall ear health.

A Gradual Improvement

I started taking Quietum Plus religiously, following the recommended dosage of two capsules daily. While I wasn't expecting overnight results, I did notice a subtle shift within a few weeks. The constant ringing seemed to lessen in intensity, offering moments of blissful silence I hadn't experienced in years.

Finding Relief and Improved Hearing

After consistent use for about two months, the improvement became undeniable. The ringing became significantly quieter, and some days, it was barely noticeable at all. More importantly, my hearing seemed sharper. Sounds were clearer, and I found myself straining less to understand conversations.

A Life Regained

Quietum Plus has truly been a game-changer for me. The constant ringing that once dominated my life has faded, replaced by a newfound peace and clarity. I can now focus on conversations without getting distracted, and sleep comes easier without the intrusive noise. I highly recommend Quietum Plus to anyone struggling with tinnitus or age-related hearing loss. It's a natural, non-invasive solution that has brought significant improvements to my overall well-being.

Disclaimer: It's important to note that I am not a medical professional, and these are my personal experiences. It's always wise to consult with your doctor before starting any new supplements, especially if you have any underlying health conditions.pen_sparktunesharemore_vert

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[healthsupplimentss]

Finding Peace and Quiet Again: My Positive Experience with Quietum Plus

For years, I'd been struggling with a constant ringing in my ears. This tinnitus, as I later learned, made it difficult to concentrate, sleep soundly, and even enjoy conversations. It became a constant source of frustration and fatigue. I tried various remedies – ear drops, white noise machines, even meditation techniques – but nothing provided lasting relief.

A Natural Approach to Tinnitus Relief

Then, I came across Quietum Plus while researching natural solutions for tinnitus. What initially drew me to the product was its focus on a natural, holistic approach. The formula is packed with vitamins, herbs, and minerals known to support overall ear health. This stood in stark contrast to some conventional medications that can have unwanted side effects.

Easy to Integrate into my Routine

The ease of use was another positive factor. Quietum Plus comes in convenient capsule form, making it simple to incorporate into my daily routine. I simply take two capsules with water alongside my breakfast each morning. There's no fuss or complicated instructions involved.

Gradual Improvement and Lasting Benefits

It wasn't an overnight miracle cure, but within a few weeks of consistent use, I started noticing a difference. The constant ringing began to fade, becoming less intrusive and disruptive. Sleep became more restful, and I found myself concentrating more easily throughout the day. Now, after several months of taking Quietum Plus, the tinnitus has become barely noticeable. It's a welcome change that has significantly improved my quality of life.

More Than Just Tinnitus Relief

One unexpected benefit of Quietum Plus has been a newfound sense of mental clarity. I feel more focused and alert, which has been a pleasant surprise. While the primary purpose of taking the supplement was to address my tinnitus, the cognitive benefits have been a welcome bonus.

A Safe and Effective Option

It's important to note that I consulted with my doctor before starting Quietum Plus, as it's always wise to discuss any new supplements with your healthcare professional. However, they were happy to give me the green light, especially considering the natural ingredients involved.

Finding Relief and Regaining Quiet

Overall, I'm incredibly impressed with the positive impact Quietum Plus has had on my life. It's a safe and effective option for those seeking natural tinnitus relief. If you're struggling with the constant ringing in your ears, I highly recommend giving Quietum Plus a try. It might just be the key to finding peace and quiet again, just like it was for me.

Disclaimer: It's important to remember that everyone's experience may differ. While Quietum Plus has worked wonders for me, it's always best to consult with your doctor before starting any new supplements.

[toku-explained]

The romantic alchemist

New Generation Stars: Yuka has taken an interest in Yapool, whose hatred for the Ultras has traveled across dimensions, after Ediom showed her him before, Ediom points out she has fought him previously, showing the battle of Z and Ace against Barabas. Now aware he appeared both in her universe and Trigger's, she asks if he's appeared elsewhere, Ediom shows her Victory, Ginga Hikari, Ace and the Leo Brothers fighting Yapool's scheme with the Victorium, and then shows another example, besides Barabas, of Yapool's grudge against the Ultra living on beyond him, first with Victory Killer, then with Ace Killer (BS), one of the robots controlled by Beatstat against Ultimate Force Zero, alongside King Joe (BS) and Imperiliser (BS), followed by Fukuide Kei using Ace Killer to become Thunder Killer. Geed data is added to the STORAGE Key, and as it is discussed that Yapool will always return as long as it's grudge continues, Yuka contemplates the horror of one battle that will never end.

Gotchard: 3rd year has started, Ishinose, Kudoh, and Kajiki are all in the same class, as Minato introduces transfer student Tsukumo Seina, who did know Hotaro in childhood, and feels their reunion must be fate, Kudoh and Kajiki both shocked by her boldness. Kajiki, having experienced love thanks to meeting and staying in contact with Hijiri, tries to encourage Hotaro to pursue her, Kudoh attempts to join the conversation, only to hold back when Seina interrupts. Atropos and her brothers seek revenge for Greyon, and she forcibly combines several brothers together. Suzuki and Takahashi of the Comedy Club present their club promo, and the drama club will be next. Seina hangs back from going to Ichinose when she sees him talking with Kudoh. Mikuriya's pitch suddenly turns desperate, and later he explains that while his dream is to put on Romeo and Juliet, if they can't find 5 members the club will close, Ichinose volunteers himself, Kajiki and Kudoh, and after Mikuriya suggests Hotaro be Romeo, Seina suddenly enters to volunteers as Juliet. Minato enters the Academy to find Kyouka and her new assistant, Lachesis, who is grateful they defeated Greyon. Clotho, attacking is less thankful, demanding Lachesis return and saying she's convinced Atropos to forgive her, but Lachesis knows, as Atropos is different from them, she will not. Accusing Minato and Kyouka of poisoning Lachesis' mind, Clotho becomes Dread: Type Three, fortunately Valvarad is there to fight, not for Lachesis but his mentors, but Clotho is impacted more by not being able to resist the triple transmutation, and is even defeated because of it. Spanner is ready to kill Clotho, but Lachesis stands in the way and insists he not treat them as monsters, and Minato has to use an escape technique before Spanner seriously considers killing Lachesis. To make up the club numbers, non-high schoolers Sabimaru and Renge are also recruited. After Mikuriya explains the plot, Hotaro's mother naturally assumes Kudoh will be Juliet, but then Seina arrives, and brings up with her her childhood promise to help Hotaro's bride some day, insisting that is still her goal, though she claims it is a joke. Renge and Sabimaru can see the power of this combination, and Kudoh, her heart hurting, leaves. Atropos, considering her captive Chemies, use BlizzaMoth to turn her combined brothers into a Malgam. Kudoh sits alone, trying to process her feelings, when Seina approaches, wanting to clear the air, by asking if she is dating Hotaro, having spotted their matching rings and learnt from classmates that they hang out alot. Kudoh confirms they aren't dating, delivering Seina, but Atropos appears, mocks Kudoh for going back to her old unconfident self, and presents her Malgam. Kudoh has Seina run but Atropos chains her, saying she'll kill her for being in Rinne's way. Rinne denies it, only to realise she recall is jealous, and seeing this Seina believes she wanted this before being frozen. Atropos aims to kill Rinne to, who fights as Madjade as she recalls all her bottled up feelings of the past days, making her struggle to fight. Ichinose arrives and becomes Platinum Gotchard, using BurningNero and FlayRose to resist the freezing, but also is shaken by seeing Seina. Rinne is defeated, and Atropos prepared to avenge Greyon, her father, causing Rinne to realise just how similar they are, as Gotchard is frozen in places Kudoh truly believes this is her fault.

Boonboomger: Chassiro, suspicious of Jou's dedication to his work, decides to follow him to confirm his intentions, Mira insists on tagging along. At ISA, Taiya gives Saibu a program Boonboom cooked up to track incoming aliens, only for one to turn up immediately. The Hashiliens spot it and, thinking it a shooting star, pray for Gyasoline, only for it to turn out to be their commander, Mad Rex. Chassiro is continuing his surveillance on Jou's day off, greeted by people thankful for his help, and even turns in a lost join he finds on the ground at the station. Mad Rex follows a dog nose on him to a toilet and, while hearing his subordinates, turns it into a Kurumajin. Taiya was already going to the meteor impact, but instead sees Gyasoline collection, the Kurumajin splashes people who admit their sad truths. When BunRed arrives Mad Rex fights him, leaving the others to fight the Kurumajin after it causes people to start arguing, though Chassiro hopes to use it to make Jou spill his truths. Taiya continues fighting Mad Rex, as Genba watches. Jou gets splashed to defend Mira, but continues to fight for the people, to Chassiro's shock, when he is then hit, he earnestly apologises to Jou, and they continue the fight with renewed vigour, defeating the Kurumajin. With Yarucar rampaging, Chassiro, still affected, admits that of the 3 of them Mira is thr most suited to drive Bundario. After tricking Yarucar off the road, Boonboomger Robo Police fights the Kurumaju. Mad Red unleashes his finisher, but Genba provides Taiya a means to counter last second, leading the attack to stalemate. The Kurumaju is defeated, ending the spell, and Mad Rex leaves to walk his dog, but acknowledges BunRed while leaving.

Geats Extra: Gazer: Niram is recreated in the future and greeted by Ziin, but his memories need to reinitialise. With Samas by his side, for his first DGP as Producer he decided to go to 1500AD Japan, feeling the Sengoku Era will be the perfect backdrop. They enlist sponsors, choose a Game Master, identify the audience's chosen Riders, and meet ling serving navigator Miiru. Miiru takes Niram out to experience Reality, and he eats for the first time, gaining an appreciation for Reality. He also meets his predecessor, original Producer Nemel, but after a meeting with Archimedel, where we learn Nemel has been having him mutate them to grow stronger using the ID Codes, Nemel is summoned to Suel, who dismisses him for his unauthorised actions, when Nemel feels he is most responsible for the DGP success. Nemel proceeds to let slip to Samas about the Navigators being incarnations of Mitsume to create a new Goddess, and decides to create a Jyamato God of Destruction. Before going to recruit Ziin's chosen Rider, a swordman, Miiru tells Niram how she has come to feel for all the Riders, not just the winners, recognising they are not just their entertainment but real people. Nemel kills the candidate and abducts her. Samas informs Niram of Miiru's disappearance, and Suel saying if Nemel acts out further to delete him. Before Nemel can feed Miiru to a Jyamato, Niram and Samas arrive. After e brief swordfight, Niram has his first injury and relays Nemel in kind, embracing Reality while Nemel dismisses it as Fiction. With a Zillion Driver, Nemel becomes Gazer Zero, opposing Gazer. As they fight, Miiru attempts to escape, but is eaten by the Jyamato, shaking Gazer enough he is almost defeated until Ziin arrives, angered by his candidates' murder, and holds Gazer Zero off, allowing Gazer to kill the Jyamato before joining forces to defeat Gazer Zero. Archimedel watches Nemel fade, before finding a mutated Jyamato seed, unaware it contains Miiru's goddess power, and decides to cultivate it. Niram creates Navigator:Tsumuri, and has her join him for Dango before starting work, having recognised from Miiru that the one who watches over their wishes should understand their Reality. His memories restored, Niram and Ziin are then made aware of a powerful Jyamato somehow rampaging in DGP HQ, Niram fears it may be Nemel's God of Destruction. Ziin is destroyed, before God of Creation Ace appears next to Niram, saying there is one way to end this destruction, which Niram acknowledges, sending him back to the past.