#I have thoughts mostly on how boring this salad is

[soyforramen]

Ok, not to be that guy, but LWJ is pretty Cold Duke of the North coded. Hot? Check. Unapproachable? Check. Absolutely soft for the MC? Boyo checked all the boxes he could find and then made some more.

Anyways, LWJ would totally pull the, “Hmm, interesting,” if MDZS was an isekai.

[silverryuan]

TWST with an Angelic Mage reader

Warning: Reader is suicidal, slight swearing.

Angel Magic revolves around summoning angels, each of which are capable of inflicting different kinds of damage. An Angelic Mage can summon them through the use of Angel Coins. Each coin representing a portion of the user's lifespan. If the summoned angel is defeated, the user will suffer great pain. Only powerful Angelic Mages are capable of summoning basic angels without a cost and suffer no drawbacks when they are defeated.

...Listen, I'm gonna be honest with you guys...

I don't really give a shit about the lore of the characters, I'm mostly interested in the magic/skills they use (examples: Blood Mage, Angelic Mage).... Why do I like risky magic concept? I don't know. I just think they're creative. Like, when there's a protagonist that just punches things with fire magic, ooh so classic. When there's an antagonist with a destructive magic but there's one flaw or loophole about it that the protagonist has to figure out in order to defeat them, wow ok cool... BUT THEN THERE'S THAT ONE SIDE CHARACTER EITHER THAT DOESN'T GET ENOUGH SCREENTIME OR WE'LL NEVER GET TO SEE AGAIN THAT HAS A CREATIVE CONCEPT OF THEIR MAGIC: SUMMONS ANGELS, CONTROL BLOOD VESSELS, STABS THEMSELVES TO UNLEASH THEIR BUILT-UP MANA TO DEMOLISH SHIT. LITERALLY DESTROYS EVERYTHING INCLUDING THEMSELVES BECAUSE HELL NAH THEY AIN'T GOING TO JAIL.

...Sorry, I'm just rambling at this point, please excuse me. Now, onto the story!

• .............................................................................

• .........................This is boring.

• You thought that it's your time to arrive at death's door but no. Instead, you have to wait inside this stupid coffin for what it feels like eternity. Thank god that this fiery gremlin gave you an excuse to come out. This way, the Grim Reaper won't punish you for coming out of your coffin~

• Oh! It looks like this creature's name is Grim. How cute! Until he demanded that you strip. Not cute! What's that? He'll roast you if you won't strip off your robe? What a coincidence! Your little angels are hungry for some weasel, silly Grim 😊........... Run🙂.

{Meanwhile, at the ceremony}

• While the Dark Mirror sorts all of the students to their respective dorms, Crowley went to the Hall of Mirrors to fetch the last coffin. He was quite puzzled when the coffin did not respond to his call to levitate to the ceremony room.

Dark Mirror: "Hmmm... Heartslabyul!"

Azul: "My, that's quite a number of students for this year."

Leona: "Yawn... When will this be over?"

Riddle: "How impatient, Kingscholar. There's only 1 hour and 23 minutes left until the ceremony ends and that's your 12th yawn."

Idia, via tablet: "Dude, you've been counting his yawns?"

Kalim: "Huh... Is that enough time for Jamil to prepare the Welcoming Party?"

{Meanwhile at Scarabia}

Jamil, setting up the plates: "WHERE IS THE CHICKEN SALAD?!"

Scarabia Student A, cutting the vegetables: "I'M MAKING IT--"

Jamil: "DO IT FASTER! WHY IS THIS KEBAB STILL RAW?!"

Scarabia Student B, holding a flaming pan: "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA--"

{Back at the ceremony}

Kalim: "...Nah, It's Jamil! I'm sure he can handle it."

Vil: "Bring the next coffin. I still have an interview tonight."

• The headmage returned to the room with no coffin.

Crowley: "... I think we'll be behind schedule for a bit."

Leona: "And what do you mean by that ?"

Crowley: "The last coffin is empty."

Vil: "... Pardon?"

Riddle: "How in Twisted Wonderland...?"

Azul: "Impossible. That can't be."

Crowley: "Do not worry! For I will graciously search for them myself--"

• Just as he was about to turn back with his lash, a small screaming monster burst through the doors and ran inside the room. The monster hid behind Crowley, using him like a shield. The students overheard the loud monster and pulled out their magical pens.

Grim: "FNYAAAAH! THEY'RE GONNA EAT ME!"

Crowley: "What the- Halt, monster! You should not be on campus-"

Grim: "THEY'RE SCARY! DON'T LET THEM GET NEAR ME! SHUT THE DOORS BEFORE THEY GET IN!!"

Crowley: "Who?"

?????!??????: "...Hehehe...😊"

• The two looked at the hallway of the door and see a silhouette of a person approaching the room. The headmage then recognized the robe and immediately thought that the person is the missing student. The alerted students put away your magical pen, thinking that the monster is your familiar.

Grim: "I-IT'S THEM! CLOSE IT! CLOSE IIIT!!"

?????!??????: "Be not afraid 😇."

Grim: "Fnyaagh!!"

Crowley: "Ah! You must be the last student. Quite the impatient one, are you?"

?????!??????: "I apologize. But I simply couldn't bear to wait any longer."

Crowley: "You must also tame your familiar properly! Look at how afraid he is of you!"

Grim: "Fnyagh?! Heck no! I'm not this weirdo's pet! A-and the Great Grim's scared of no one!"

?????!??????: "You're not? Oh well, I guess I just misunderstood your appearance then."

Crowley: "He's not yours?"

Grim & ?????!??????: "Nope!"

Crowley: "Then I will order students to throw this beast off of campus."

Grim: "FNYAGH! WAIT, YA CAN'T DO THAT! I'M A MAGE HERE! NOOOOO!! JUST YOU WAIT! I'LL BE THE GREATEST MAGE IN THIS SCHOOL!!!"

• The headmage then called a couple of students to restrain the monster and drag him out of the room. It's a shame~ You really thought that this feline will guide you to heaven but you couldn't help but feel a little bad. Just a little bit. Wait, did he just say school?

Crowley: "Ahem! Without further ado, let the ceremony continue! Please stand in front of the Dark Mirror and say your name."

?????!??????: "...Why?"

Crowley: "To sort you, of course. Now go."

Leona: "Finally. This stupid ceremony better be over.... Yawn"

Riddle: "That's your 13th yawn."

Idia: "Bruh, just stop counting."

• You noted that some students still kept their guard up, thinking that if the monster was so scared of you to the point of running and hiding, then you might be the bigger monster. The students near you stepped away after sensing your heavy aura.

• The mask-wearing man shoved you in front of an old, intricately designed mirror. A face appeared on the surface, scowling at you.

Dark Mirror: "State thy name."

AngelMage! Yuu: "AngelMage! Yuu."

• The mirror stared intensely at you before expressing shock and disdain. Almost like it sees through you...

Dark Mirror: "...This soul does not belong in any dorm."

• The crowd of students gasped in shock and the headmage is in disbelief. Whispers among the students soon filled the room, creating an uncomfortable atmosphere.

Crowley: "I do not understand! The Ebony Carriage would never... How?!"

Dark Mirror: "Thy soul... Is dark... Their soul is divine but impure... Their light is bright but tainted..."

Crowley: "Tainted?.... Could it be? Blot?"

Dark Mirror: "...This one possesses an art form of magic that is celestial, yet uses it for horrible intentions, throwing no caution of the power they hold..."

Azul, pushing his glasses up: "Celestial, you say?"

Idia: "Damn, this sounds like an anime scene."

Dark Mirror: "... The darkness in their soul has swallowed and layered their heart. Thus, they do not belong in any dorm."

[melikedraw]

Married life with Gaolang headcanons

Ft. Gaolang wongsawat x gn! Reader

Sickeningly fluffy

~~~~~

Take note: I'm not a writer, I don't know what I'm doing, I just want gaolang content

Now that that's set aside-

~~~~~

- Married life with Gaolang is probably the easiest part of your relationship with him. No more of your painfully obvious hints bouncing off his dense head, no more questioning whether the feeling you had for him was reciprocated due to his unreadable expression

- Now, Gaolang doesn't expect you to take his surname, but if you refer to yourself as Mr/Mrs Wongsawat, he will feel so fucking smittened with you

- Gaolang's job as Rama's personal bodyguard requires him to leave your shared house early and come back late

- However, that has never stopped him from giving you any less love

- Though it pained him to leave the bed you two shared, he would always wake up early to prepare breakfast for you

- and by breakfast I don't mean cereal with milk

- He can and will make a filling and balanced breakfast for you, with some carbohydrates like rice, pancakes or toast, proteins like eggs or ham, and fibrous foodstuffs like a side salad or a bowl of fruit

- as someone who doesn't usually eat breakfast, this meal looks like a lot, but even if you aren't a breakfast person, Gaolang's handmade meals aren't something you can just pass up

- He WILL make you eat it (usually the smell itself is enough to have you feeling hungry anyways, so it isn't too difficult for him)

- After prepping your breakfast, he would wake you up to eat it before it goes cold

- he also wants you to be awake to see him off while he leaves, but he won't be admitting to that any time soon.

- for his job, Gaolang has to wear a suit and tie, not his preferred choice of clothing, but it was what a bodyguard typically wears

- putting on the outfit was usually one of the more boring parts of his morning, so help him get past this hurdle by putting it on for him!!

- button up his shirt, tie his tie, straighten up his blazer and dust him off while standing him in front of his full length mirror, telling him how good he looked this morning

- and don't forget a goodbye kiss for when he's putting on his shoes to leave the house

- I think gaolang would like you to be a housewife/husband

- it's not that he wants you to give up your dream job or anything like that, no. If you have a job you want to keep, he'd gladly support you in any way he possible could

- it's just that part of him wants to give you a perfect life, comfortable, in which he believes he can provide for you, and indeed he can, which is why he would want you to have the freedom of not needing to work

- However, if you agree to this arrangement of his, you can't just laze around all day and waste away in bed

- Being free all day, you usually do the grocery shopping, cooking lunch and dinner, laundry etc

- basic housekeeping stuff

- gaolang will try his best to help you with it too, but his job is inherently tiring, so treat him well!!!!

- now that I'm done with you two's day to day activities, lets move on to other stuff (HELP IDK WHAT IM DOIN)(ignore me)

- Gaolang would be super conflicted about having kids

- on one hand, he is obsessed with the thought of a child that was a mix of the two of you, like a symbolism of your marriage and love for him or something

- on the other hand, he KNOWS how busy he is, and he understands better than anyone that he can't possibly split his time in a way that would provide for the child the fatherly care they would require

- if you do want a child with him, you're going to have to do a LOT of convincing, begging and pushing because he is STUBBORN

- it mostly stems from his very valid fear of not being able to be a good father, and not wanting an innocent child to have to face the fact that their father can't even be there for them

- most likely you two will not have a kid, but hey, you tried (or didn't)

~~~~~

Yikes I'm all out of ideas

Should I make a prequel to this?? (Dating life with gaolang)

[vancalox]

ok i have avoided talking abt my datv thoughts but now ive finished and slept on it here it is. this is huge btw and really just a way to process my thoughts for my own peace of mind. and get out what i need to say. so yeah word salad below

2 disclaimers before i start. firstly i think im going to be SUPER blunt and clear about my thoughts on this post but then i will mostly be putting the matter to bed in my heart bc i am not someone who delights in being a hater nor do i take comfort in it. i will take from this the things i enjoyed and keep my distance from the rest. second disclaimer: ultimately i think i will still enjoy being a part of the fandom and seeing other people enjoy the game, because it will endear it to me and maybe take away the pain im feeling right now, so this isnt a long rant to make you feel bad about enjoying the game if you do like it! in fact quite the opposite. it comforts me that there are people who find value in the game and i hope in watching you play it i may be able to eventually be able to say the same

that being said . obviously i didnt like the game

which is an extremely difficult thing for me to say. i went into this game thinking "i will at the VERY least enjoy the game. not love it but at least like it. but im sure ill love it". it really is quite distressing for me that it didnt even really reach that bar for the most part. i TRIED to like it. i begged this game to give me ANY handhold at all that i could cling to, to forgive and like this game. i think the things i liked err more on the technical side. the graphics i loved, the character DESIGN was *fantastic*. the art. the pacing. the vague vision of what they were obviously nebulously aiming for. and honestly, i mostly enjoyed the main plot although i wish it had been more disciplined and constrained with the lore it was trying to expand on. act 3 was fantastic and naturally i am happy and fulfilled for the most part by the conclusion of solas's story, who i still believe was and is the best written "villain" of dragon age. sorry logang and meredith nation but i do still stand by this.

but thats really about it. as a disclaimer i am not an origins puritan or a da2 diehard or anything like that. i have loved (almost equally) EVERY single iteration of dragon age which has been released. i am one of the few people who sees equal value in inquisition and origins. i love them both so deeply. i couldnt pick between them.

for me what i love the MOST about dragon age - and which every single previous game has always nailed despite other flaws - is the characters. right under that is the world's capacity for introspection. and unfortunately nothing in this game provided that for me

regarding the characters: i do not care about a single one of them unfortunately. or at least i do not CARE about them the way that i have CARED about the other previous games companions. companions i would write banter about !!! just for fun when i was bored!!!! i would say my only exception is harding, but even then i care about her only because i care about her due to inquisition. overall i just found them all so ..... shallow. and devoid of any of the conflict or nuance or ethical quandries that make biowares stories so compelling - and sure, usually controversial! i would give ANYTHING for this game to have been controversial. for a unforgivable RO, or a problematic fave, or a cancelled wife. did bioware forget that their most beloved or at least enjoyed characters are people like anders, merrill, mordin solus, blackwall, sten, loghain, SOLAS??? i dont understand HOW they could have forgotten that, because solas is literally right there in game and handled (in my opinion as a fan) well. love him or hate him or dont care about him, he is such a hallmark of great bioware writing (in dai if nothing else) - characters who are not EASY to like. characters who are not SAFE to write and who WILL generate criticism from all sides because they are written boldly and unapologetically, strengthened by a foundation of consistent ideals, clear objectives and beautiful faults. characters that do not NEED you to like them, but instead invite you to engage with them critically. solas, even to someone who hates him, is nuanced and morally complex enough to muse and fight over for 10 whole years. hes IN this game, just as ethically murky as ever, but the morally grey hallmark of biowares writing really does kind of live and die with him alone. the rest of the companions feel like they barely made it out of their concept phase. what are lucanis's flaws??? genuinely asking. other than being a murderer who exists in an organization which buys and trains literal child slaves of course, but i'll get to that in a sec (because bioware sure as fuck didnt). um, i guess you could say hes broody?? and emmrich too. what actual flaws does he have?? he has a fear of death, as we're TOLD, but it does not really reflect in the overall convesations we have with him over the course of the game. mostly hes just.... a little bumbling i guess. bellara's flaw is being a scatterbrain. harding's is that shes..... angry??? but shes not???? fucking come on. i really felt the lack of actually being able to TALK to these people at the end of act 2, when i realized i still felt like i havent really MET any of them. and yet here rook is talking about found family and being a team. ok

and then there are the romances. which from my perspective - having romanced taash - and my friends who have romanced lucanis, neve and davrin..... WHAT romances. davrin's full romance is 20 minutes in a 30 PLUS HOUR GAME. solas had the least amount of content out of any companion in inquisition and was a last minute unintentional RO and still had like easily 50 minutes of content. so why did these romances feel like nothing. actually nothing. i was so excited for taash, but their romance straight up felt like neither rook nor taash even wanted to be there. i forgot they were technically together at certain points. zero chemistry. zero intimacy. all TELLING zero SHOWING. if you had told me that i would be saying these sorts of things about a writer like trick weekes a month ago i would call you fucking crazy to your face. i cannot reconcile that taash was written by the same person who wrote solas. i cannot reconcile that mary kirby - who wrote the fucking chant of light - wrote lucanis. its so dire. its devastating actually.

lastly i want to talk about my other point - bioware's famed emphasis on introspection and ethically quandries. again, i'm genuinely experiencing a sense of profound whiplash because when it comes solas's character you can still see it. its still there. they actually doubled down on making him worse than he was in trespasser which i LOVED and thought was so incredibly promising. they could have caved to solavellan fans and uwu-ified him but they didnt. thats great.

but where was that energy for literally anything else. everything has been defanged - even minrathous, the capital of the tevinter slave trade, does not even ADDRESS the elephant in the room of slavery. and i know because i played a shadow dragon. so tell me why i as a shadow dragon am happily allied with the crows, who solely exist to assassinate politicians and BUY SLAVES. THEY BUY SLAVES. THEY BUY SLAVES AS CHILDREN AND TRAIN/TORTURE THEM TO MURDER. HELLO??????????? there is no commentary made about the mages/templars. there is no discussion of the treatment of the elves in the north or Anywhere. there is no discussion of why exactly blood magic is or isnt acceptable - they simply tell us its bad. all the theories of the last 10 years were answered with handwaved comments or bare bones codex entries that honestly stripped so much nuance away from so many things (the blight, my BELOVED) that i dont know how im going to go about fixing it or making it right in my head. the introspective nature of dragon age always went hand in hand with player choice, but there really WAS no choice in this game as so there IS no real capacity for other interpretations or schools of thought. it is so..........................bleak.

i think the thing that finally made it click in my head that this game had fundamentally let me down was the gloom howler quest. and i know im not alone on this. for those of you who dont know - the gloom howler, "isseya" was the protagonist of the dragon age novel "the last flight". i would HIGHLY recommend you read it, especially if you're an origins fan. super bleak, super political, not flashy at all in terms of magic. it was set 500 years pre origins, during the 3rd blight. isseya is very similar to characters like loghain and solas in a way - a richly complex, beautifully intricate, terribly thought provoking character who did HORRIFIC things for the most NOBLE reason you could imagine, under the most traumatic of circumstances. im tearing up just thinking about her story, and how the title "the LAST flight" foreshadowed that her story had a definitive, bittersweet, finite and peaceful ending.

and then this game did THAT to her. turned her into a grotesque caricature of what she was. stripping her of her nuance and her capacity for atonement or forgiveness. and once again, i do not fucking get it. she was obviously brought back because she is a parallel to the solas dilemma. so WHY is she not afforded the same opportunity for empathy that he is. why is bellara's brother not either. its insane. its literally insane. i cannot begin to imagine the oversight or laziness or WHATEVER IT WAS that occured to have this game turn out this way.

there are innumerable other problems with the game that im not going to get into because what ive said above is the main crux of my problem. introspective and character. those are all i really wanted from this game, and like..... i thought we would get that. because the game centered around solas. and i know people dislike his fans for very fair reasons, but i hope those who know me know that i enjoy him not because hes hot (he is though) but because he is terrible. i love him because they made a character who was TERRIBLE, and then gave you the task of using your head and refelcting on your own morality and values and deciding and arguing and meditating over whether he is worth loving anyway. to me, solas is the person i point to when i want to describe why i love dragon age. its complicated, its nuanced, it is terrible and wonderful and everything in between depending on the angle you look at it from. and so having the writer of a character like THAT in charge of the whole game filled me with hope and dissuaded so many of my fears for this game. but i was wrong apparently.

so now im left with a feeling akin to survivors guilt. genuinely. because at the VERY least, despite me saying all of these negative things, i at least finished the game crying happy tears and being overjoyed that my favourite character was handled well and got an ending i enjoyed. and yet that happiness *i* got to feel and that glimmer of good writing was paid for at the expense of literally everything else. i feel almost personally responsible in a way, which sucks. im sorry to all the people who did not enjoy or care about solas, im sorry that you really did get nothing out of this game. i hope we can all be comforted by the trilogy we have and will always have, and i hope we can all take what good parts we enjoyed out of veilguard and make peace with the rest

leaving this youtube comment my friend sent me which is unfortunately a summary of how i feel about the game as a whole.

[princess-of-thebes-1995]

Yandere Hannibal Lecter x Female Reader

Chapter Three: Pathetic Attempts

A frown graced on the handsome face of your ex Professor Hannibal Lecter. The thermometer said you still had a burning fever.

Lecter made you drink ice lemonade and cold soda.

He had no choice. Picking you up, bridal style, he walked up the stairs and to the fancy bathtub which was connected to his room.

Lecter already prepared the bath with cold water and scented oils. Gulping in nervousness, he set you down slowly on the surface of the water.

Your eyes opened and you squirmed at the low temperature of the water.

Firmly holding and looking at you. "Don't resist."

You were too scared to disobey the older man so you nervously sat down on the chilly tub and took a long breath.

That is where you realized. You were naked! You covered your breasts and blushed. Out of the corner of his eye, Lecter wanted to laugh but held a straight face. You were so cute when embarrassed.

Before he kidnapped you, he set up cameras in your bathroom and saw you bathe and change before many times. 

So, he wasn't new to you.

But, that didn't mean he was bored of you. He loved seeing you exposed. It was even better now since it was in love in person and he could see you up close. Your natural perky tits made him hot and horny.

Lecter felt his boner rise. He knew it was wrong and not appropriate now to take you. But, he was willing to wait. He could easily rape you and force you. But, he doesn't want you. He loves you. Lecter wanted you to submit yourself.

"We need to get your temperature down."

You didn't say a word and let your ex teacher get a bar of soap and rub you. 

After your bath, Lecter dressed you up himself. He dressed you in a weird attire. A long skirt made of cotton with ruffled edges. A green olive short sleeve t-shirt with striped socks.

You looked like a Mori Kei.

He had an odd taste in women you thought.

Luckily, you didn't return to the basement. He carried you to the dining table and sat you on the chair. The table spread looked professional. You saw Caviar, smoked salmon, a big bowl of salad, and wine.

But sadly, Lecter sat next to you instead of across in the head chair. "I decided to give you alcohol to ease your headache. Don't make me regret it. Behave." Lecter gave you a warning look.

Gulping, you said yes. 

Smiling in approval, Lecter loaded your plate. 

"Here you go, Darling." He stabbed a piece of salmon and held it to your plump red lips.

Fearfully, you took a bite. You loved it. You tasted lemon, paprika and other spices you never knew.

It was better than Red Lobster.

"Wow. This is delicious. You cooked this?" You peeked at him in curiosity.

Lecter was surprised at how well mannered you were. But, he didn't show it. He expected you to act bratty and give him attitude and cause another fight.

The look you gave him was so sweet and innocent. He wanted to coo and stroke your face.

Smiling, he nodded. "I am talented at cooking. Mostly meat. I don't cook desserts or bake much."

The whole dinner, you felt better after each bite. The meal was hearty. The medicine, bath, fresh and natural food healed you.

Now, you were good as new again. Hannibal noticed too. He felt relaxed knowing you will not die of illness. 

Once again, he carried you to the basement. This time, he tucked you in without the chain. You looked up at him. 

"Don't try anything stupid." He seemed to have read your mind. He leaned over to you and kissed you on your forehead. "Good night, sweet heart."

You blinked. "Good night." You whispered.

Lecter hid his glee. You were slowly accepting him. Soon, you will be all over him and be an official couple.

He knew the police were after you. But, since you are an adult, he can persuade you to say you ran away and the charges by your father will be dropped.

Life is finally going back to normal for Lecter. Normal as in going his way. 

[danielmolloystits]

thin like lace & twice as tight (Armand/Daniel) (1/1)

Summary:

He’s trying not to think about it. He doesn’t want to spoil the reveal prematurely, after all. But it’s hard not to, with the satiny spandex ribbon that’s currently nestled between his ass cheeks insistent on riding up to give him a constant wedgie. “Is there a reason you’re singing ‘Femme Fatale’ so loudly in your head right now?” Armand asks from across the dinner table, a bemused grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Is our conversation boring you that terribly?” — He’s seen how Armand eyes the lacy little numbers that adorn the shop window mannequins they pass. They clearly capture his interest. He just hopes the same is true when Daniel is the one wearing them.

Rating: E Pairing: M/M (Devil's Minon, Armand/Daniel) WC: ~3600

He’s trying not to think about it. He doesn’t want to spoil the reveal prematurely, after all. But it’s hard not to, with the satiny spandex ribbon that’s currently nestled between his ass cheeks insistent on riding up to give him a constant wedgie.

“Is there a reason you’re singing ‘Femme Fatale’ so loudly in your head right now?” Armand asks from across the dinner table, a bemused grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Is our conversation boring you that terribly?”

They’re in one of those fancy restaurants the vampire often insists on taking him to, something French and expensive and extremely out of Daniel’s league if he’s being perfectly honest. The food is good, though—the kind of complex flavors he’d never get in the Podunk Midwestern shithole he hails from.

“Heard it on the radio,” he lies, hoping Armand doesn’t choose this moment to dig deeper into his psyche. “It’s been stuck in my head all day.”

“You always did like Lou Reed,” Armand comments offhandedly, and a fluttery feeling spreads in Daniel’s chest. It always makes him feel gooey inside that the vampire pays such close attention to what he likes.

Which is the reason he’s doing this, at the end of the day. Wearing lingerie for him, that is. Or, well, part of the reason anyway; it’s also because Armand keeps nagging him about the fact that he prefers to go commando most of the time, complaining that it’s ‘unsanitary’ or whatever. But mostly, he wants to do something special for his stalker-slash-boyfriend, to repay him at least a fraction of what he’s done for Daniel. And he’s seen how Armand eyes the lacy little numbers that adorn the shop window mannequins they pass; they clearly capture his interest.

He just hopes the same is true when Daniel is the one wearing them.

“Do you have any grand plans for the rest of the evening?” he asks Armand, aiming for nonchalance but realistically landing somewhere in the realm of over-eager like he always does. He pushes his salade de chêvre chaud around with his fork. “Or did you just wanna go home after dinner?”

The vampire looks at him strangely. “Up to you, beloved.”

“I think going home sounds good,” Daniel says. Truthfully, he’s not sure he’s up for dancing when his cheeks are so separated they might as well file for divorce. Aside from the thong, however, the panties aren’t quite as bad as he thought they would be: the material is soft and form-fitting where it caresses his junk, the subtle scrape of it against him tantalizing. The garter belt isn’t quite as comfortable, but it does make him feel kind of sexy. Like one of those pin-ups in the Playboys he used to steal from his dad.

They finish their meal in relative silence, punctuated by the occasional observation about a stranger from Daniel, or by Armand asking him some question about philosophy. It’s nice, normal. It almost distracts from the way his heart races in anticipation every time he thinks about what he’s wearing underneath his clothes.

When they finally pay and are getting ready to leave, Armand places his hand on Daniel’s lower back to steer him towards the exit, and Daniel’s shirt must have ridden up or something because his fingertips brush against the thin strap that arcs over the younger man’s hip. He pauses.

“Daniel.” His voice is low, and he’s still looking straight ahead as he guides them out onto the street. “What are you wearing?”

“Aren’t you supposed to ask me that over the phone?” Daniel asks, chuckling nervously. His pulse thrums wild and anxious, his whole body singing in tune with it.

The vampire’s tone is clipped and deadly serious when he repeats, “Daniel.”

He swallows roughly, tries to sound firm: “You’ll have to wait until we’re home. I wanted it to be a surprise.”

Armand huffs a laugh. “As you wish.” Still, he pinches the elastic between his fingers and pulls, snapping it harshly against Daniel’s rear; a reminder of who is in charge, here. It stings, makes his skin feel warm where it draws the blood to the surface.

He thinks about it the entire way home.

When they open the door to their shared Brooklyn apartment, Armand doesn’t acknowledge him at first. Rather, he strolls leisurely to the kitchen, retrieving a tumbler from the cupboard while Daniel hovers expectantly in the doorway. Then, he walks over to the liquor cabinet and pours himself a scotch. The sound of the liquid hitting the glass is the only noise in the room, save for Daniel’s own shallow breathing.

Once he’s done, he makes his way to the couch, sitting down and slinging one arm over the back before he finally addresses Daniel. “I believe you were going to show me something.”

“Um,” Daniel stutters, a flush rising to his cheeks. He can’t help but fidget under the weight of Armand’s stare. “Yeah.”

The vampire gestures with one hand, as if to say go on. “Then show me.”

“You mean, like—”

“Strip, Daniel.”

The flush burns ever hotter. “Okay,” he says, his hands coming to rest at the collar of his dress shirt. His fingers begin to fumble with the buttons, and he’s fervently attempting to get this over with without having to think about what he must look like, but Armand won’t let him; he stops Daniel before he can even undo the second button.

“Slower,” he directs, taking a sip of his drink. “You said I had to wait, after all. So make me wait.”

“Right,” Daniel mutters, trying to pretend that the command doesn’t shoot directly to his cock. He definitely fails—at least, if the smirk on the vampire’s face is anything to go off of.

Nevertheless, he relaxes in his urgency, although the reduction in speed probably owes just as much to the way his hands start to shake as it does to Armand’s instruction. But he persists in his efforts, and one by one, the buttons pop open, exposing more and more of his chest to the vampire’s scrutiny.

When he reaches his navel, he hesitates; any further down, and Armand is going to see the delicate white lace that is stretched around his stomach and holding up his stockings.

“Go on.”

This is what you wanted, he reminds himself over the embarrassment. He exhales a shuddering sigh and continues, separating the clasps so that the garter belt is on full display.

Armand leans in, then, his elbows on his knees as he examines Daniel with the same dedication as if he were admiring a fine portrait. “Beautiful,” he whispers, his tone feather-light and almost reverent.

Daniel makes a choked noise at the praise, undoing the last button at the hem before pushing the shirt off of his shoulders. It lands in a puddle of cotton on the floor, and Daniel thinks maybe he ought to hang it up or put it in a hamper or something, but he can’t; he is thoroughly rooted to the spot.

The vampire rakes his eyes over the nearly-naked skin with all of the fervor as if he’s never seen it before. As if he’s never seen anything quite like it. “Good,” he says, and Daniel wants to imagine that he hears excitement hiding beneath his cool, even tone. “Now take off your shoes.”

Obediently, he bends down and removes his right loafer, and Armand’s gaze drops to the sheer white stocking that covers Daniel’s foot, runs up his ankle, dives under the leg of his pants before climbing further still. Daniel wordlessly repeats the same process with the left shoe, wiggling his toes once they’re free from their confines. He doesn’t think he hallucinates the sharp intake of air that follows.

But if Armand has any other reaction to Daniel’s choice of hosiery, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he merely continues instructing Daniel to disrobe. “Pants.”

With trembling fingers, Daniel unzips the fly of his jeans. A sliver of the woven, floral fabric of his underwear is revealed to Armand, and this time Daniel is positive that he hears a quiet sigh escape the other man’s lips

His face fully on fire now, he slides the denim down his stocking-clad thighs. The moment stretches on for an eternity, pulled slow and syrupy like saltwater taffy, until the article of clothing is pooled at his feet and Daniel stands in the middle of their living room wearing nothing but women’s undergarments.

When he gathers enough courage to look back up at Armand, the vampire’s mouth is slightly open, his pupils blown wide and hungry. The intensity of his stare makes Daniel’s cock twitch, throbbing and needy where it pushes flush against the thin lace.

“You look lovely,” Armand comments, his voice rough with desire. Still, there is an element of tenderness to the way his gaze rakes over Daniel’s form. Of affection.

Daniel tries not to squirm. “Thank you,” he replies quietly. “I was hoping you’d like it.”

“I do.” The vampire sets down his glass and rises, stalking towards him to circle him like prey. Inspecting him. When he comes to stand behind Daniel, he crouches down as if to get a better look. “Do you know what I like most about it?”

“What?”

Armand grazes his mouth over the curve of Daniel’s ass, then, drawing a full-body shiver from the younger man. He stops when he reaches the strap that rests on Daniel’s hip. “How much like a slut you look,” he tells him, before capturing the elastic between his teeth and tugging, in a much dirtier mirror of his teasing touch at the restaurant. Daniel yelps in surprise as the fabric at his front is pulled more tautly against him, and again when Armand releases his grip so that spandex lashes back into his skin.

“On your knees,” Armand orders, even as he grabs two handfuls of Daniel’s ass. Even as he presses a wet, messy kiss to the juncture of Daniel’s thigh, as though he can’t quite help himself. As though touching Daniel is the only option, as though he isn’t willing to stop even for a second. Daniel tries not to whimper, the sound half-swallowed and all the more garbled for the attempt.

It’s easy to let himself fall when his legs are already so unsteady, though, and Armand helps guide him down with an insistent grip on both of his hips.

Once Daniel is firmly on the ground, Armand says, “Turn around, pet.” And he does, and then the vampire is kissing him so soundly that he can feel it radiating all the way in his toes. He threads his fingers in Daniel’s hair, nips at his bottom lip playfully, caresses his soft palate with his tongue. He kisses him like he’s unwrapping a present, like Daniel is the best gift he’s ever been given.

When he eventually shifts away to allow Daniel to breathe, the younger man tries his best to chase after him. Armand chuckles at his eagerness, pressing one final, chaste kiss to Daniel’s mouth before ducking his head into the crook of his lover’s neck. “So pretty,” he murmurs as though speaking only to himself, his voice twinkling and bright like string lights. “Can I ruin you, beautiful boy?”

“Yes,” Daniel gasps, hands coming to rest atop Armand’s head, pulling him in even closer. “Please, baby.”

Evidently that’s all the permission he needs before his fangs are sliding home, and Daniel tilts his head back in anticipation of the familiar rush that accompanies the blood loss. But to his surprise, it doesn’t come; instead of drinking as he normally would, Armand lifts his head mere seconds after sinking his teeth in, hovering his mouth just above the twin puncture wounds that decorate Daniel’s skin like an old tattoo.

“Wha—?” he mumbles, confused as to why the vampire is just sitting there, allowing the bite to ooze blood down his throat, gushing in time with every beat of Daniel’s heart.

“You look like a vision,” Armand whispers, his voice wrecked with devotion as though Daniel is something holy. “I want to paint you.”

Before he can ask the vampire to elaborate, Armand is nuzzling into his neck again, his shoulder, smudging Daniel’s blood hot and vital all over his cheeks and chin and all over Daniel in turn. Every so often, his tongue darts out to taste, but they are fleeting little touches—teases to both Daniel and himself; it’s clear that he’s not trying to feed here.

He’s trying to make a mess.

Daniel moans at the utter depravity of being covered in his own blood, his head instinctively lolling further back to give Armand more room to work. But Armand just replaces his mouth with his hand, coating his palm and the tips of his fingers in the slick fluid as he brings Daniel in close for another kiss.

He can taste himself on Armand’s tongue, his blood spilling slippery and metallic over lips, his teeth. Daniel whimpers, the flavor harsh and unpleasant but so deeply, deeply erotic in its wrongness that his cock begins to leak against the dainty material of his panties. The fingers on Daniel’s neck slide slippery and warm down his figure until Armand is once more greedily squeezing his ass, and he rolls into it shamelessly, moaning again as the vampire kneads and massages the sensitive flesh.

Blood drips down the column of his throat, pools in his clavicle, and Armand dips into it the same way one might a palette of paint, using it to spread the stuff as far as he can, to stain as much of Daniel with it as possible. To stain as much of himself in the process, too. It feels like he’s touching him everywhere, like he’s making a mural out of Daniel’s body—a ghoulish effigy of their mutual affection that Daniel hopes never washes off entirely. The only areas Armand avoids are those covered by the creamy white of his lingerie, his garter belt, his stockings, deliberately maintaining their purity even as he seems to grow more and more feverish in his efforts.

“Undress me,” he demands in between kisses, and Daniel happily complies, helping him strip himself of his shirt and pants as quickly as he can, until he’s kneeling naked and hard in front of Daniel, presenting his own stunning canvas to render into art.

Overcome by the expanse of smooth, dark skin that begs to be sullied and soiled just like Daniel’s own, he has no other choice than to pounce on Armand, to bury his hands in the vampire’s hair, to knock him backwards until they’re pressed chest to chest on the floor. They start writhing against one another instinctively, Daniel’s blood smearing between their bodies with all the delicacy of an oil spill. It takes no time at all for them to find a rhythm that has them both panting, their cocks grinding together through the lingerie, rutting against each other in short, savage bursts while the vampire claws his bloody hands into the meat of Daniel’s back.

As Daniel rocks into him, Armand huffs these prissy little gasps into his mouth, not quite able to reach satisfaction from this angle and rapidly growing annoyed about it. “Daniel,” he says, his voice thin and breathless with need. “Fuck me. Now.”

He leans up, intending to remove the garter belt and thong so he can do precisely that, but Armand stops him. “Leave them on.”

“Sure,” Daniel agrees breezily, and a pang of arousal spears him in the gut at how into this Armand so obviously is, at how much he enjoys seeing Daniel dolled up and dressed like a whore. The vampire spreads his thighs for him impatiently, presenting himself all open and vulnerable, and Daniel would have to be a much stronger man than he is to refuse the implicit request.

He drags two fingers through the still-bleeding wound on his neck before pressing the tips of them against Armand’s rim. It’s admittedly not the best lubricant they’ve ever used, or the most carefully they’ve ever gone about preparation, but Daniel thinks it’ll have to do—everything more suitable to the job is too far away to bother collecting when they’re both so incredibly desperate for it, and the ability to do this cautiously was lost somewhere back before Armand turned him into a Jackson Pollock composed in his own blood.

Armand keens as the digits slip inside, wrapping his legs around Daniel’s waist and trapping him there as he begins to scissor the vampire open. However, he only tolerates the fingering for about a minute before he gets antsy, shimmying and ordering Daniel to “Get on with it.”

Daniel laughs, leaning down to press a red kiss to Armand’s temple as if he’s anointing him. “I don’t want to hurt you, baby.”

The vampire scowls, though it looks far more like a pout. “You’re not that big.”

It only makes Daniel laugh harder, unable to quite believe that this is the ancient, immortal being he’s somehow managed to shackle himself to. “All right, princess. Whatever you want.”

He removes his fingers, then, and pulls down the lace at his hips just far enough so that his cock can spring free. He coats himself in more of his own blood, dizzy from the obscenity of it, then braces his weight on his hands to either side of Armand’s hips as he slowly pushes inside.

Armand mewls, fingers scrambling at the hardwood as he drives his ass back to meet Daniel, propelling his body forward until his lover is seated in him to the hilt. Daniel takes that as a hint that Armand is not interested in taking this slow. Under different circumstances, Daniel would be intent on making this moment stretch as far as it could, would delay Armand’s satisfaction for his own enjoyment (and, he admits, out of a sappy sort of sentimentality), but right now a sense of urgency takes root in his gut and the need to watch the vampire fall apart on his cock overwhelms every other impulse.

“Then get on with it,” Armand repeats, reading his thoughts and being a big petulant baby about it. He digs his heels into Daniel’s lower back, spurring him on. “I’ll compel you if I must.”

It’s not an idle threat, Daniel knows.

“God, you’re whiny,” he grouses, even though he doesn’t really mind at all. Armand opens his mouth as though to argue, but Daniel shuts him up with a sharp snap of his hips.

Finally, Armand whispers inside of his mind, pathologically incapable of not having the last word. Aloud, though, he groans, a devastatingly pretty sound that has Daniel fucking into him hard, fast, brutal. He cries out, fingers grasping at Daniel’s shoulders as he bucks into each thrust with abandon.

The visual of it is stunning, and Daniel can feel himself losing control of his own pleasure.

“What do you taste like to yourself?” the vampire asks suddenly, soft and airy, trailing the fingertips of one hand up to collect more blood on them. Belatedly, Daniel wonders how he hasn’t passed out yet. It must be sheer force of will, he thinks, the way he’s fighting through the black spots that dart across his vision: a testament to the indomitable nature of the human spirit. Armand cups his chin gently, sticking his index and middle fingers past Daniel’s lips, stroking over his tongue lightly with his claws.

Blood, mostly, Daniel thinks at him, his mouth otherwise occupied with sucking Armand’s fingers clean. Iron and salt.

Armand closes his eyes, face screwed up in ecstasy as Daniel pounds into him at exactly the right angle. “Do you know what you taste like to me?”

He shakes his head. No, what?

“Art,” Armand breathes, and Daniel’s chest tightens from the undeniable sincerity of it. The hand that isn’t in Daniel’s mouth snakes between his own thighs, stroking himself in time with the rhythm that Daniel has set for him. “You taste how art feels.”

It nearly drives him over the edge. “Armand, I—”

“Please,” the vampire begs, the movement of his fist quickening. “I want it.”

The naked, unadulterated need in his voice is enough; with an unattractive grunt, Daniel comes inside of him, his arms shaking with the force of his climax. Armand squeezes down on his cock, milking him for everything he’s worth as his own release spills thick and pink over his fingers.

Eventually, Daniel’s arms give out and he collapses on top of Armand, but the vampire doesn’t seem to mind, merely wrapping his arms around the younger man and clutching him to his chest. He presses his nose into Daniel’s hair.

“What are your measurements?” he asks absentmindedly, voice reverberating against his lover’s scalp. “Wait, never mind, I don’t trust you; I’ll have my tailor take them.”

Daniel is still disoriented from his orgasm. “My measurements?”

“I want to have you fitted for a corset.”

He doesn’t know why he’s surprised; he honestly probably shouldn’t be. Still, he finds it strangely endearing, this weird creature of a man and his butterfly attention span, so he pins Armand against the hardwood and begins peppering his entire face with kisses even as the vampire struggles in protest.

Whatever—Daniel knows he’s faking it. He could escape if he really wanted to.

It makes something ephemeral and sparkling blossom in Daniel’s chest to know that he doesn’t.

[pebblysand]

okay, you guys seemed to love these last season so here we go again: selling sunset hot takes, S7E1-5.

whoever is responsible for imposing that mansion tax has my utmost respect. tax the rich plz.

i don't think we talked enough about that basket ball that amanza was dragging around in ep 1.

talking about amanza: yes, she is a shit stirrer, i called it in s2 and i am baffled it took this long for the show to self-actualise on this issue.

i also don't think we talked enough about jason's baby powdered balls.

i was equally shocked by the fact that brett seems to have a tongue and a brain that together are capable of producing words.

having said that, talking about jason, he remains The Worst. i don't even know how to explain. that man is a walking red flag and the fact that he seems to have survived a life's worth of terrible professional, financial, and personal terrible decision-making is truly a wonder.

that said, we need to stop pretending their income at this stage comes from real estate. most of the money they get is from the show. which is why, i suppose, they're able to open new offices when all of their competitors are shutting down.

as someone who knows a little bit about real estate, the house they were in for the O Group anniversary dinner had real architectural value, which is notable because none of the houses ever do.

romaine-like-the-salad remains my favourite character in this show and i swear sometimes i can hear him think in french.

that said, he and mary being pregnant is the one good news of this season, although they totally knew before that test and their "surprise" was very poor acting.

i am also happy for mary that she stepped back from management. i think this is good for everyone, but mostly her.

now onto the hot stuff: i think when it comes to bre v. chelsea, they actually both have a fair point. i do think chelsea was trying to genuinely apologise, but what she was apologising for was exactly what she said: if you don't have anything nice to say, say nothing. she had nothing nice to say and still said things, and now recognises that she shouldn't have. having said that, her view on bre's situation is so clearly rooted in very personal christian beliefs that she's not going to intrinsically change her mind. and actually, this might be my hottest take to date but... i think that's fine. like, as chelsea said, "i don't agree with everything my friends do." she would have been fine being bre's friend but bre wants her to approve of her situation (which, imo, is because deep down, bre is a bit insecure about her situation) and that's never going to happen. my hot take last year was that chelsea had a point, and i think she still does.

this is a bit of a side point but i thought chelsea was at least 40. i'm 30 and i swear my friends and i don't look that old. proof that packing your face with plastic doesn't actually make you look younger.

which, another tangent but why did everyone make such a big deal of the accusation that nicole has had work done? THEY ARE ALL PACKED IN PLASTIC.

and onto the hotter stuff: the situation between nicole v everyone else is starting to bore me. nicole is clearly wrong. nicole has been wrong for two seasons now. let's move on. that said, i had to google what "social climber" meant because i don't think it means the same thing to me as it does to them.

and on chrishell v. marie-lou: so this is actually a hot take, i think, but i do reckon they both have a point. on the one hand, marie-lou is, it's true, rather young and insecure, but she also has reasons to be. they've all made fun of her age, and i feel like her age isn't her fault, and she doesn't seem to me particularly more immature than them. additionally, jason is clearly still in love with chrishell but because he is The Worst, she cannot have that conversation with him, she's turning to chrishell who, in fairness, has no power over that.

i will also say that as a european who's lived in the US, i think what she is holding against chrishell is more of a cultural difference, than it is anything else. what she's basically saying is that chrishell is "american-fake," meaning that she is nice and enthusiastic on the surface but doesn't actually "care." which to marie-lou reads as fake and rude, but to chrishell reads as polite. standards of politeness and casual social interactions are some of the biggest cultural differences between europeans and americans, and i think that's where you'll find that most of the issue is.

i also thought that chrishell, in that scene, used her language superiority to overpower marie-lou. chrishell is someone who speaks a bit fast and is very good at arguing. which is fine when she's with other americans but with marie-lou who is german, whose english is clearly not great, it very quickly feels like bullying. i don't think she meant it as such but marie-lou was taking a bit of time, trying to find her words to get her point across, and chrishell didn't have the patience and kept badgering her. i do believe that had she let marie-lou talk, they would have realised 1) my point above about cultural differences and 2) that the source of all their problem is jason's toxicity and lack of accountability, and that he should be locked in a safe room for the rest of his miserable life.

the way he was trying to hang up the phone during that fight had me in TEARS, like: do i need to be in this conversation? YES. YES. YOU CREATED THIS MESS. you are the weakest, most pathetic little man on the planet.

having said the above, obviously, chrishell has attenuating circumstances for her snapping and bullying of marie-lou and i'm glad she's feeling better now. we are still #teamchrishell in this house, we just need to acknowledge that sometimes our girl makes mistakes.

lastly, did anyone else think the reveal that amanza was molested as a child was a bit random? like, i'm sorry for her but also it felt a bit like it didn't have anything to do with anything. i wonder if it was just there to reconcile she and chelsea.

i will come back with more hot takes whenever i have time to watch the rest of the season lol.

[siriusuntiltheveryend]

When in Greece

main pairing: Lily Evans x James Potter, multiple pairings.

summary: Lily Evans finds herself bored, and restless a few weeks before school starts and decides to go with Marlene, the Marauders and few others to Greece. While she’s there she decides to open herself up to things she never considered before.

warnings: 18+, smut, vaginal fingering, oral sex (f to f), oral sex (m to f) blow job, vaginal sex, multiple orgasms, threesomes, voyeurism.

a/n: had an idea went from a one shot to a series. Hope you all like it

PART II:

The house was unfucking believable.

If it could even be called a house. Lily’s house had three tight bedrooms and 2 and a half baths with a little yard for her father’s roses. This house was built into a cliffside just outside of Rodia with 6 bedrooms, 4 bathrooms and a private pool looking out to the sea. Lily didn’t even know what sea it was but it didn’t matter. All she could do was stare at it in pure amazement.

“It looks even better at night,” Sirius told her, already in his swim trunks.

“Is this place yours?” Lily asked him in awe, not looking away from the sea for a second. It seemed to go on forever.

Sirius shook his head. “Just a rental villa, but everything is included so write down anything you need on the list in the kitchen.”

Lily smiled and said, “thank you.”

“I’m glad you came. I didn’t think you would,” Sirius told her.

Lily lowered her voice and shrugged. “He has flattened mostly and we’re going to have to work with each other this year a lot anyway… Though, even if I did still hate him, I would get over it for this.”

“Never been abroad?”

She shook her head, “not really. Like road trips around the UK but my family aren’t really explorers. They like to stay in the area. They think money is better spent on their home.”

“Huh,” Sirius shrugged.

Lily said, “yeah, I don’t agree. You can save for things for both I think. Although, I think I’d live in a box to wake up to something like this every once in a while.”

“A woman after my own heart Evans,” Sirius smiled.

“Yeah,” Lily snorted and teased him sarcastically, “this is definitely a box.”

“Maybe a touch nicer,” Sirius grinned before he said, “you should head in, everyone is getting changed.”

Lily nodded, going into the room she was sharing with Marlene.

An hour later, she was in a tankini, laying out on a taco floatie as the sun heated up her severely sunscreen soaked skin. She laid in it until the sun started to go down and they all sat around the table with salads and gyros.

“Okay, some games,” Marlene giggled in her blue halter bikini as they started finishing up.

“I think we need some seven minutes in heaven to start us off,” Sirius snickered.

Amelia said, “Okay, but everyone gets a free veto without recourse.”

“How do we do that?” Dirk asked, furrowing his thick eyebrows.

Lily wondered that too. If they spun the bottle everyone would know they skipped, which would be beyond embarassing. But the other red head seemed to have an idea. “We write our names, put it in a hat, then if we don’t feel that would be comfortable, we grab another back, no harm, no foul,” Amelia suggested.

James teased her, “you just don’t want to get me.”

“Yeah, I don’t think you could handle how much I’d steam up those glasses Potter,” Amelia winked at him.

Sirius had the best handwriting so he filled out everyone’s name on little scraps of paper before he put it into the hat. Lily bit her lip with a mixture of excitement and nerves. She had never played this game. They either happened when she had a boyfriend so she didn’t engage or well after she left parties. She debated who she would veto if she got the opportunity and honestly it wasn’t as many people as she thought. After all, if it was Marlene she was pretty sure they would just say they did something and do nothing.

Sirius went first. He got Amelia and the two joined hands before they went into the little pool storage area.

“I hope there’s enough space in there,” Lily giggled.

James said, “all of these chairs aren’t there. I’m sure it’s fine.”

Sirius and Amelia returned, cheeks flushed and smirks plastered to their faces. Lily wondered if they just snogged or more. Seven minutes wasn’t really a lot of time to do anything but what did she know? Gideon was… okay. He did the job but there was always something a little clumsy in his approach that made her fight to stay focused. Sirius and Amelia didn’t seem like clumsy people.

“Lily, you’re up,” Marlene handed her the hat.

Lily teased, “sorry, if I get either one of you and you need a minute.”

“We understand that we’re in high demand,” Sirius winked at her arrogantly.

Lily laughed a little, some of the tension leaving before she reached in and picked up the first name. It was Caradoc. She thought about it. He was bulky, shorter than the other guys with ashy blonde hair and dimples. Cute, hot even, but a little part of her was curious what the other option would be. So she put it back.

“OOOOOH!” Sirius howled with Dirk and Dorcas.

She picked again and this time she got Dorcas. Lily laughed and put Dorcas’s slip on the table.

“Shot for courage,” Sirius handed her a firewhiskey.

Lily downed it with Dorcas, sighing harshly as she felt it burn down her body. A few seconds after though, she felt a little less self-conscious and went with it when Dorcas put her hand out and walked her over to the shed. Lily did giggle though when Dorcas shut the door. It was a nervous giggle though she was almost 100 percent sure the most Dorcas would do was give her a peck and an ass slap on the way out.

Dorcas sat down close to her, closer than Lily expected. Then she took a strand of Lily’s auburn hair and slipped it behind her ear, her fingers brushing against Lily’s skin as gently as possible. Lily bit back a gasp, unsure why. But in the darkness she could only really make out hints of Dorcas, mostly just her eyes.

“I want to try something, okay?” Dorcas whispered.

Lily nodded before she could think twice about it. And then she felt Dorcas sweeping the hair off her neck, her fingers trailing from the hollow of her neck to her shoulder. She made this motion over and over again until every goosebump rose to greet her. Lily found herself arching and tilting to encourage her only to feel Dorcas’s lips replacing her touch.

A gasp left her before she could stop it.

Lily was almost embarrassed how loud the gasp had been. Did it seem like she was desperate? Did it seem like she was hard up? Both had become a little true but before she could worry about that, Dorcas took Lily’s hair into her hand and used it to tilt her head to the side so her lips could go up her neck.

“Fuck,” Lily gasped, this time less shamefully.

Dorcas never kissed her lips, but when the timer went off, she had kissed every inch of Lily’s neck and shoulders.

Dorcas whispered, “told you it was fun.”

Then she helped Lily up and walked out with her.

Lily was still buzzing, her heart hammering in her chest as she walked. Everyone was ooohing and ahhhing, but Lily just blushed and tried to stop thinking about what would have happened if she shifted or done something back to Dorcas. She didn’t even know what. But the idea had been planted and now she couldn’t look at Dorcas’s without scanning her body and thinking of more.

Remus went next and he got Dorcas too. Lily wondered if she was going to do the same thing to him or if she’d go even further. It wasn’t until they returned that Lily was forced to refocus because James was picked and he put her name down.

Lily laughed and stood up, teasingly pushing him to the shed. “Let’s get this over with, Potter.”

“So eager,” James teased her back. When they got inside, he shut the door and told her, “We can just sit here-”

Lily almost agreed.

They had gotten to a good place. She had let go of how shitty he used to be when he showed he wasn’t like that anymore and he learned from it. And he in turn stopped crudely hitting on her and acting like she was the one with a problem. It wasn’t immediate or easy but sixth year had been good for them. Which meant she should have left it like that. They could sit in the dark, let the others think what they wanted while they caught up or made up another game to fill the time.

But… she was restless after Dorcas’s lips traced over her body. And seeing the way everyone else was playing around without worrying about the rules, made her kind of want to too.

“Actually I want to try something, close your eyes,” Lily told him boldly before she could stop herself.

The shock flickered in his hazel eyes as he assessed her. “What are you going to-”

“You will like it,” Lily insisted in a quiet tone.

He tilted his head at her before he closed his eyes and waited.

Lily could tell he still wasn’t quite sure what she would do so she added, “keep your hands where they are.”

“Okay,” James said.

Lily climbed into his lap and tilted his chin up. He had such a good jawline. Sharp, strong. It perfectly matched his ever growing shoulders. And before she could tell herself how bad of an idea this was she started kissing from his collar bone up to the tip of his chin. She let her hair brush against his skin and smirked at the way his breathing shifted when she did. His breaths were heavy and shaky, and every trip he made seemed to make it worse.

She felt his arms tense to stop from grabbing her and Lily smirked into his skin, “stay still, Potter.”

Lily’s lips were soft and careful, determined to leave him wondering if he imagined the whole thing the way Dorcas had to her. When she saw it was getting closer, she started lining her tongue up his throat knowing he would think of something else. Sure enough, he hardened underneath her. Lily felt him so clearly with the limited swim fabric separating them. But she reminded him. “If you move at all, I’ll stop.”

She started sucking a little on his neck, groaning a little into his skin as she rolled her hips. Everything was slight. Everything was enough to keep him but not enough to go anywhere. Then the alarm went off and Lily pushed herself off his lap, whispering in his ear. “Let’s go Potter.”

Then she opened the door before he could retaliate at all. And the rush of power was the highest high she’d ever felt.

Lily understood perfectly why Dorcas did everything she did. Having someone dangling, filled with lust, begging and pleading for more was intoxicating and when she sat down she didn’t have to look at James to know when he jacked off next he’d be thinking about her for the next week at least.

She wasn’t picked for a few more people before Sirius put one back and put her down second. Lily was beyond curious what he would do, but laughed hard when they got inside and Sirius asked her, “what did you do to James? He’s eyeing you like you gave him a blow job.”

Lily giggled and said, “no, I kissed his neck. I didn’t even kiss his lips.”

“You saucy minx,” Sirius gasped at her playfully.

“Well,” Lily admitted, “Dorcas did something like that to me and I was still worked up so I kind of wanted to get that over someone else.”

Sirius nodded, “fair enough, fair enough.”

“Who was your first person?”

“James,” Sirius laughed. “I wasn’t dragging that man in here.”

Lily smirked, “I am a hard act to follow.”

“I know that pun was intentional Lily and that makes it so much sadder that you got to him so well,” Sirius laughed.

“Okay, we’re clearly not making out, but can I have a shoulder massage for a minute and then I’ll give you one? I have a knot in my back like no other,” Lily suggested, shifting around so he could work on it.

“See, this I could work with,” Sirius teased her.

When their time was up they both left looking very relaxed, much to the amusement of the others. Lily though, kept thinking about the other two. Dorcas smirked at her every time she caught her looking and James eyes raked through her when she looked anywhere near her direction.

By the time everyone started to separate for different things, Lily found herself wandering into Dorcas’s room. Dorcas was sharing with Emma but Emma had fallen asleep on the couch already, so Lily didn’t worry too much about it. Though she did worry a little that Dorcas might have felt it was only a fun thing and not a follow up thing. Just because she brought up threesomes and kissing a few days earlier didn’t mean it was an invitation.

Dorcas erased all doubt though when she saw her, smirked hard and said, “not done?”

Lily shook her head sheepishly.

Dorcas took her hand delicately and brought her to the bed. Lily didn’t wait. The second Dorcas sat down next to her, she cupped her face and drew her in for a kiss. Lily half-expected the thrill to die down when she kissed Dorcas but it didn’t.

In fact, it got so much worse.

Lily hadn’t changed, so she was just pressing her swim suit against Dorcas’s as their lips pressed eagerly against each other. Dorcas’s tongue split her lips, earning a groan from Lily as Dorcas dominated her easily and thoroughly. She found herself feeling for the string on Dorcas’s bikini, then she tugged on the bottoms and the top. It was braver than she was prepared to act on it but Dorcas seemed to sense that as she pushed her back and stripped her top and bottom off too.

Laying back, naked, wet and panting, Lily gripped the sheets in anticipation. They hadn’t shut the door. Anyone could walk by and see them and something about that added to the tension. Especially because she knew Remus and James had the room across the hall. Lily thought about how he would feel about catching her like this. Would he do something about it or simply watch?

Lily almost lost all inhibitions and started doing something about it. This was mad. This was insane, and it would have been completely out of control if she started touching herself without Dorcas even being involved.

But then she felt lips trailing up her thigh and gasped so loudly she worried the whole house would hear her. Dorcas didn’t seem to care. In fact, it almost seemed like her goal. Lily could tell she had become a conquest of sorts, and instead of feeling negatively about that she felt so much more turned on.

She wanted to be someone that it was an accomplishment to take. Gideon was all about looking in her eyes and asking her if it felt good, which should have been amazing but inherently made every response feel forced or like she had to prove she was enjoying herself. This was the opposite of that. Dorcas knew what to do. Where to kiss, where to touch, where to linger. She needed no guidance from Lily whatsoever. By the time Dorcas’s mouth was almost to her core, Lily was fighting every urge to drag her there.

“Doe… please,” Lily finally begged, her hips bucking, and squirming from the, at this point, hours of foreplay.

“Shhhh… be patient,” Dorcas told her, sucking on her inner thigh until she made a mark.

Lily heard a noise, and looked over to see Remus watching them. It should have made her cover herself up. Remus was her friend. It wasn't like that between them. She’d never even thought about him like that but something made her not care. Something made it even hotter that someone was watching what was happening. And it didn’t hurt that the second Lily saw him Dorcas licked up her clit with such precision Lily started gasping out and gripping Dorcas’s hair.

“Like that,” Lily even squeaked.

“Harder,” Remus’s voice demanded from somewhere in the room.

Lily’s hips jolted up at the sound of his voice, the reminder that someone was watching and enjoying what they were seeing.

Lily knew she was a toy they were using but she didn’t care. In fact, she loved it. It wasn’t something she could do often or maybe even ever again but in this circumstance, she loved how Dorcas toyed with her to get to Remus. How every suck every nip was to earn something.

She was arching off the bed, her hips bucking to meet Dorcas’s lips eagerly until she felt Dorcas ease her fingers in. Then Lily had to cover her mouth to stop from crying out while her other hand clawed into the sheets, desperate for the relief that every coil of her stomach threatened to release.

Then Dorcas’s fingers curled just right as she sucked on Lily’s clit and Lily broke. She came hard, squirming and gasping into her own hand. When she stopped shaking she realized Dorcas wasn’t on her anymore but was undressing Remus.

Lily watched them for a couple of seconds, panting to herself before she found her swimsuit and shakily reattached it as she slipped out.

Stumbling into her room with Marlene she found it empty. Some of the others were probably still at the pool or watching the movie, or hell having their own orgy for all she knew. Lily still couldn’t believe what just happened. She stepped into the shower and sighed as she let the water rinse over her.

For a few minutes, she stood there in shock, reliving every heated moment before she washed up, rinsed off and got out. By the time she got dressed and got into bed, Marlene was passed out on her side of the bed. A fact Lily was thankful for because she wasn’t sure if she could explain herself even if she wanted to.

[bonkusdonkus]

I’ve been thinking about bunnies again!

A while ago, I made a list of list ideas, headcanons, and hombrew thoughts on the Harengon, one of my favorite D&D races. Mostly because WotC just kind of slapped them into a book, mumbled something about how they like freedom, and left it at that, and I didn’t like that.

Well I’ve had more ideas since then!

I will now shotgun them onto the Internet so others may steal and\or get inspiration from them! Same rules apply as last time, Harengon and Rabbit folk are interchangeable terms, you can use any of these you like, or don’t! Okay! Let’s talk about bunnies!

Harengon traditionally have extremely long, extremely difficult to remember names. Their names are often literal paragraphs long, or even multiple pages. Some Rabbit Folk actually have names so long they literally need a novel sized book to write them down, and that’s just their first name. Harengon surnames can be encyclopedia sized. On average. As bizarre as it sounds, there is a reason for this. It’s a defense mechanism! In the Feywild, names have immense power. Giving a Fae your full name can have terrible consequences. So, being native to the Feywild, the Harengon counteracted this by making their names impossibly long and complicated, so that remembering them to use against them is near impossible. Plus, many Fae have short attention spans, by the time they’re even halfway through reciting their name, the dangerous Fae will probably just get bored and leave. Obviously, in every day life most Harengon only use a part of their full name, but traditionally all harengon are taught to memorize the full thing, just in case.

It’s common knowledge that Harengon are considered lucky. They have an unusual propensity for pulling victory from the jaws of defeat, or landing that one-in-a-million chance. Hilariously, this means that many casinos or gambling dens often ban Rabbit Folk from playing. Less amusingly though, it has also led to some ugly superstitions. One fairly harmless belief is that a kiss from a Harengon grants the kissed good luck. Some considerably less harmless beliefs are that drinking Harengon blood will give their luck to the drinker, or that having a charm made from Harengon teeth will ward off misfortune. There is little to no evidence that either of these superstitions are true, but doesn’t stop the depraved or the desperate from trying to find out…

On occasion, a Harengon will be born with pure red eyes. No pupils, no whites, just red. These Rabbitfolk are typically referred to as Unfortunates. Not because they’re particularly unlucky, but because they have a peculiar… Aura, let’s call it. Whereas normal Rabbitfolk are known for their supernatural luck, Unfortunates seem to almost suck the luck out of people around them. Specifically, people who wrong them. This is a very difficult thing to catalogue or measure, so it very well could just be a cultural belief of the Harengon, and not an actual phenomenon. But, well, they are from the Feywild. It also could be true…

Harengon aren’t immune to poison, but they are immune to several notable poisonous plants, such as hemlock and nightshade. In fact, they think these plants are quite tasty. They often eat them raw in salads, or cooked much like spinach. But the most famous use of these poisons, is the infamous Snake Blood wine. A potent, magically charged alcoholic wine said to taste like angel’s dreams and unicorn tears. Fanciful descriptions aside aside, it is an exceptionally valuable item, a luxury among luxuries. Brewing it is not only extremely difficult and time consuming, the method is a jealously guarded secret among the Harengon. And while it is still very much poisonous to most species, It can be imbibed by non-harengon, in very, VERY small amounts. Because of this, among wine enthusiasts, it’s become something of a pilgrimage or right of passage to taste the legendary Snake Blood wine of the Rabbitfolk.

One of the most common jokes people make about Harengon is that they love carrots. Because, you know, bunnies. The Rabbitfolk have no particular attachment to carrots, culturally or biologically. Though it’s not unheard of for them to like the orange vegetables, it’s no different than if a human liked them, just a matter of personal preference. However, some Harengon have heard so many stupid carrot jokes, that they have developed a deep seated hatred of them. There are multiple incidents of Harengon actively going out of their way to destroy carrots, out of sheer spite.

[casspurrjoybell-33]

Wreckless - Let's Talk

*Warning Adult Content*

Emmett

I have to start the noodles, the water is boiling... I reluctantly leave Finnegan to take off his slacks. Once they're in the water I get him a drink, in the sports bottle of course. He seems too old for a Sippy-Cup which is fine by me. I'm pretty sure he's about seven or eight in little space, the ages when he was sick. Him mentioning that he'd missed a bunch of experiences during that time period sort of solidified my thoughts on that.

I'll have to ask him about that tonight, if we get that far. I've spent the past hour making dinner and in between, I've been on my phone looking up anything I can find on Daddy Doms and Little Boys and refreshing my memory. I'm glad he wants to talk. I know that neither of us have all the answers but we can at least figure out what the questions are, make sure we're on the same page and try to come up with some sort of a plan.

"Can I go get Marten?" he asks.

"Wait until after dinner, please."

He loves being downstairs but it's not completely ferret-proof so I don't want him running around when we're busy eating. Ferrets are amazing creatures and are insanely good at finding the one thing in the house they shouldn't eat/destroy/climb/play with.

"Come get your drink, darling. Can you set the table?"

I'm mostly testing him, I want to see how he reacts. I pull out the plates, bowls and silverware and put them in a pile on the counter.

"Sure," he says, smiling.

"It's the least I can do."

He's cute, really cute. He's shirtless which... let me tell you... is a huge oversight on my part because how am I supposed to focus when all he's wearing is a little pair of bright yellow boxers with a huge sun on his ass? I pull the chicken out to rest for a minute and run upstairs to grab him a shirt.

"Thanks," he says, pulling it on.

"I like this one."

I'm going to have to order some more crazy shirts, most of mine are fairly boring. The few funny ones I have are gifts from Andy.

"Anything else I can do?"

I just have to butter and season the noodles.

"No, go ahead and sit... I'm about done."

I take the chicken to the table while the butter is melting, then take the noodles over. I did the salad and fixings half an hour ago so it's ready, something I learned from my mother.

"This looks and smells amazing Emmett, thank you."

"You're welcome, darling."

We both dig in. Finnegan eats an entire split chicken breast and plenty of noodles and salad to go with it.

I'm a glutton and eat two... it's really good.

"I don't want to wear diapers or have to call you Sir or get treated like a child" he blurts out.

'Okay.'

"I'm okay with all of that, Finnegan. Look, if you're a little, we get to make the rules. You do a perfectly good job of running your own life, darling, I don't want to micromanage it. That said, if you wanna come over here, have a good meal and relax for the evening, that I can do."

He's thinking.

"That sounds really good. This, this is really nice."

He's sitting with his legs perched up on his chair, it's adorable. He has a napkin in his lap and wipes his mouth, then tucks it back under the table.

"I like this silly cup. If that makes me a little, maybe I am one. I don't know. But all those rules, I mean, I just don't know if that's me. I want to be able to talk to you, as equals."

I want that too.

"I had a lot of rules in the Army, I don't need more now. Finnegan, I think we're just gonna have to see how this goes. I've sure as hell never done this before and I'm not sure you've really figured yourself out either. Who knows, maybe in a month you'll be more comfortable with me and want things you don't want now, you know? We're just gonna have to keep talking about it, as painful as it is, so we can make sure we're both happy."

"That's what I'm worried about Emmett, why would you want to date someone like me? You can't want to watch kiddie movies every night."

"Not every night, no. You're gonna have to put up with me watching baseball and my insane addiction to hoarders if we spend a lot more time together. But if you wanna lay on my lap and do, I don't know Finnegan, what do you do when you're, well, little?"

I didn't know how else to put it.

"I don't know. Once I went on YouTube and figured out how to make different paper airplanes. I made a couple and threw them all over my apartment. Is that weird?"

"Sounds like fun to me, darling."

"And I like toys. I... uh... I have some Lego I mess with. And I love cartoons... you know that. But I could watch on my laptop and use headphones."

He's so sweet.

"That would be fine. So serious question... are you always little when you're alone or if you can be? I'd like to know what to expect... is all."

He always thinks about his answers and I love that. He's not just blabbing the first thing that pops into his head.

"Sometimes I have to do stuff. Cook, shop, work. So when I have stuff to do I just do it but if I'm not busy I... yeah I guess I'm usually little, as you put it. I always thought it was just me."

"It is just you, Finnegan and that's fine. Okay so what if my house is little space? You don't have to do adult stuff here, right? I'll handle the cooking and if you have to work I assume you'd just go home. So when you come in here you can strip and get comfortable and we'll just give it a try?"

It's the best I can offer since we have no idea what we're doing.

"I can't believe you'd do that... I mean, why? It sounds really good but what do you get out of it?"

"Other than seeing you?"

He rolls his eyes, most of the sites I was on today would say that's worthy of a spanking.

"What?"

"There's no way you want to hang around a guy who likes to drink out of bendy straws."

Now I'm a little frustrated.

"Why not? What the fuck does it matter to me? How does it affect me at all? I couldn't give two shits, Finnegan. I like you, okay? You make me smile, you make me feel good, and I enjoy doing things with you. I think your sunshine boxers are cute and they make me happy. I've had enough sad and dark and dreary in my life, Finnegan. I could use more laughter and smiles and silliness. Okay?"

He walks over and I push my chair back because it looks like yes... he wants to perch on my lap.

"I'm sorry, Emmett."

His arms are wrapped around my shoulders and his cheek is resting on my forehead and all the anger drains out of me instantly.

"I want you happy, that's why I asked. I just want to make sure you're not doing this just for me, you know? That's not healthy. I've been in plenty of relationships where I didn't share this, where I was normal."

"And none of them lasted, Finnegan."

None of mine have either.

"No."

I think we both need a break... some time to process everything we've said. I give him a tap and he hops up.

"Why don't you go get Marten and I'll clean up."

"I could help, Emmett."

"You can help by playing with Marten, please."

I stand up too and gather our plates. He'd much rather do that and we need some space. Besides, I know how short his evenings are and there's really not much to do to clean up, I did some as I went.

"Okay, I'll get him. Um... are you mad at me?"

I can't have him thinking that so I drop the dishes on the counter and pull him into my arms.

"No, not at all."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

[nancypullen]

Thursday Night

The mister has gone out to take some night photos of possibly creepy places, so I’m at home watching Dateline.  I made big salads for dinner and then we ate coconut ice cream bars. Those two sentences sum up our Thursday night.  This is retirement, folks.  I actually spent a good fifteen minutes watching the sprinkler today.  A couple of weeks ago we raked up the three inch layer of small landscape rocks that the previous owners used for their fire pit.  It was right off of the patio, they hadn’t used any sort of weed cloth or barrier, and it was an awful, messy, weedy spot.  Once we got the rocks up, Mickey spread some dirt and grass seed and now we’re babying that little patch to make sure the grass grows.  That’s why I spent fifteen minutes watching the sprinkler today - that actually sounds better than I was watching grass grow. I’ve been foofing up my little spot on the porch.  It’s quickly becoming my favorite hangout.  It’s shaded, hidden from the street, and has views of all the gardens.  I found a cheap metal table that was sort of an ugly putty color, and painted it white and red.

I slapped a placemat on it and then added a little pot of lobelia.  

Presto change-o!

You know how much I love red gingham. If I can squeeze it in anywhere, I will. So I did.

That wreath may need a birdie on it or something.  I need a second pillow too.  Maybe a pale green with roses? 

Eh, maybe not.  I’ll dig around and see what I’ve got and go from there. Probably should have used red flowers in that pot, but lobelia is what I had. This is all subject to change but it’s a nice space for now. I love sitting out here in the morning, listening to the birds and contemplating the day. What’s that poem about birds singing despite the world being a wreck?  I can’t think of it, but I appreciate their songs in a world gone mad. We thought about driving over to Rehobeth Beach this week, it’s only about 45 minutes away and there’s a mile-long boardwalk where we could have lunch and check things out.  The days got away from us and tomorrow is supposed to be rainy, maybe next week.  We did snag tickets to see/hear David Sedaris at the BrowseAbout Bookstore there at the end of May.  That’ll be fun.  He’s always entertaining.   Aside from watching grass grow and painting anything that doesn’t run away from me, It’s just been cooking and cleaning. We did run a couple of errands earlier this week and made a pit stop at  the Ridgely Pharmacy lunch counter for a sandwich.  They have the best chicken salad in three counties. I finally worked my way through the delicious crabs our neighbor brought over.  I used the last bit for breakfast.  A toasted sandwich thin, a mound of crab, a little gouda and a generous sprinkle of Old Bay made my mouth very happy.

I don’t normally eat breakfast, but I’ll make an exception for crab.

I’m itching to get into my craft room and do something creative.  I’m overdue.  I’m hoping that tomorrow’s rain will give me the time at my desk that I’m craving.  I haven’t touched clay or even paper for over a month.  I get cranky when I don’t have that time. Mickey moved my cabinet into place for me and I put my Cricut on top which frees up loads more work space for me.  I mostly use the Cricut to cut out my dead people, and I need to commune with them soon.

It’s a perfect fit for the space and the storage is wonderful.   It’s calling to me. Pray for rain so I can play inside.

This blog post is a discombobulated bunch of nonsense.  No one wants to read this boring stuff.  I started this little corner of the web back in 2007.   Can you believe it?  It used to be a hoot.  I had great material - kids, animals, my job in the school system. My stint with Clinique was blog-worthy too. The many, many years where I was on my own while the mister traveled every week - I got up to all sorts of hijinks that were worth writing about on Tumblr.  Now we’re just a couple of old fogies who think it’s a big deal to stop for a chicken salad sandwich. Help.  I’m five months from turning 60 and I want my life to be funny again.  I’m staying busy making this house our own, but if I buy much more spray paint I’m sure I’ll be on some sort of DEA watchlist.  If we’d moved somewhere that I could go to water aerobics or craft fairs, I’d have made friends by now and had some adventures.  We’re almost at the one year anniversary of our move here and I’m still counting my once-a-week grocery haul as an outing. Help.  I have no girlfriends to talk to (I just offended the cats by saying that), no one to meet for lunch.  Where are the fun ladies of Denton?  There’s no jazzercise or Zumba classes, where am I supposed to meet my people?  The nicest person (and the most fun person) I’ve met so far is the program director for the Caroline County Arts Council.  She’s an absolute delight.  But she’s also very young and is busy with a young person’s life. I’m looking for someone with some mileage who knows how to talk about perennials and peri-menopause. Who am I kidding? Full blown menopause, I just liked the alliteration with perennials. So there you have it, I’m home alone and watching Dateline, missing my sweet friends, and thinking that I’d better go take a bubble bath and lose myself in a good book.  Tomorrow I hope I wake up to rain and spend my day creating some silliness.  Maybe even something worth sharing here! Until then, stay safe, stay well, and take good care. XOXO,

Nancy

[pbandjesse]

I am pretty exhausted. I am very glad to be home. Today felt a lot more normal after how chaotic yesterday was. I slept pretty well. And I felt alright when I woke up. Using the salonpas on my neck last night really helped. It still hurts but it's a lot better. Im trying it again tonight we'll see if it helps more.

I woke up and felt good. I thought I would like my romper but I ended up feeling weird all day. I don't know why! I love this outfit normally!! But I felt both to frumpy and to sexy?? Like I was just really uncomfortable.

I felt a little weird all morning and I felt like I could have been nicer to James. Like I didn't do anything but I felt like I could have been nicer. And then I didn't like my podcast. I was just feeling off.

And then when I got outside I found what I think is a bullet?? Next to the car?? Super weird. I thought it was just a piece of metal but I'm not sure. I showed it to Heather and she agrees it seems to be a bullet. Wild wild wild.

Camp was good though. A bit cold this morning. And I put a sweatshirt and walked around for a bit. They patched the dining hall and it was much more picked up. The nurse's office got a tarp over it. Day camp was back. Things were good.

I had a nice talk to Heather and sat in the office for a while. Eventually Cecilia and Annabelle came into the office and we discussed packing up supplies and getting ready for the end of camp. I offered to store all their stuff so we don't have to have it in Yukon. And everyone agreed so I would make sure 4 cabinets were clear and put labels on them.

And that lead me to want to start organizing and packing my own stuff. So then the art building looked like it was exploding it was such a mess pulling things out to pack and organize.

Which was very fun for me! I also made time to work on my painting. I got a lot done. In adding in texture and detail. I would sit outside and look at the building and I felt like I was getting good stuff done.

And the Hannah my cit came and she had a full leg brace on!! Cause apparently after she left yesterday she fell and jacked herself up. It's the same leg she had knee surgery on last year. So I was very worried for her. And she was apologetic for leaving early tomorrow because of her fall, that I didn't even know happened, so she brought me a cake pop!! I love cake pops so it was such a nice gesture even if it wasn't necessary.

She would work on organizing some boxes of materials to consolidate and get rid of trash. Because it's so hard for me to throw things away. She was super helpful and made it a lot easier on me. I would get a ton done inside while she worked outside.

And the groups would be good. Only one in the morning. Top bar made great art as always. And I worked on my knitting and my painting and enjoyed them making pretty things.

And then I had a two hour break. Which was nice because I got so much more done on the building. It's going to take all week but progress is progress.

Blanche was there borrowing bracelet string and she brought me a rubber snake to paint that belongs to one of her campers. I was happy to help and the camper was so happy when she got it back. She kept saying she loved me. It was very sweet. I hope the paint sticks.

Lunch was fine. The tater tots were nice. The sandwich was boring. I had brought pasta salad from whole foods so I wasn't hungry. I mostly just enjoyed sitting with the other specialty staff. I'm glad Ty has made friends in the YLPs, but I do miss him eating with us. I still had fun with Celia and Annabelle and Antonio. We had our specialty sauce and I showed them all the trinkets in my backpack. And it was nice.

The afternoon went well. My day campers did great stockade was nice. I organized beads. Poppy, a top bar girl, who didn't want to do BB guns, would come hang out with me and helped organize beads and I let her DJ and chose all the songs. Mostly Disney songs and the Barbie sound track.

The boys were good. But I was not happy with Jorge because he had a pretty bad cough and if I get sick I'm going to be furious with him. They all made good art but I felt really bad when two boys bracelets exploded when we tried to tie them. I felt so bad! Especially when the one told me it was his last week at puhtok ever!! He got a job at Rita's. I'm happy for him but still sad!! The children are growing up.

After my last day campers left I went down to the office to talk to Heather and Alexi about my fall schedule and plan. I'm going to do Tuesday to Friday 8 to 4, with Monday being a work from home office hours situation. Answering emails and such. I am very pleased with that. And I explained how the lesson plans are going to go and how I'm going to streamline everything. Heather is excited and is happy with the progress I've made. I told her what my plans were for writing out the lesson plans over the next week or so. And we are going to set up a new email address for feild trips and start reaching out to schools in the next week. Amazing. I'm excited.

I also chatted with Chris about a flag idea he had for next summer. Which I would take charge of and I think will be fun. Basically he wants me to sew little flags for the counselors to put their badges on. So I'm going to do some research for that too. Supplies and such. I have some ideas and I'm excited to put that together for him.

I had the horse girls last. And they did a good job. And because they were so self sufficient I was able to work on my painting. Which they kept telling me was so pretty and good. Which felt very nice.

After the horse girls left Hannah asked to try inverting on my silks. And she was very scared but she did it and I was very proud of her for not being scared. I would also hang from it s lot today. Working on stretching more. I am still get cramps in my calves which is frustrating but at least my neck is doing a little better.

I was glad to be done for the day. After Hannah left I locked up the building and went home.

People were driving very silly but I got back to my neighborhood in one piece. I went to Walgreens and got more of the salonpas patches and got my prescription. I was a little annoyed when I realized she never asked for my insurance. She was just goj g to charge me $39 when it was actually free with my insurance!! The card just hadn't been on file. But I figured it out before I paid anything and got my medication for free and was much happier.

They were fixing the gate on the front door so I got stuck for a moment. The guy was very apologetic but I was like. No it's okay!! You are doing your job!!

And then I was able to get home. I parallel parked. Very proud. James was making tomato soup from scratch. It smelled excellent.

I took a shower and washed my hair while James finished dinner. And we ate together on the couch. The food was very good. And it gave me the energy to work on my planning for an hour. I got some more layout down and some writing for the first program. I will keep working on it for sure but it's going well.

Since then me and James have just been resting together. Watching videos. Sweetp was being very bad but I still want to cuddle him even if he keeps attacking me.

We are watching videos now. Sending silly pictures back and forth. But now I am ready to go brush my teeth and go to sleep. I have really been happier coming home. I love staying at camp but I'm coming to terms with being okay with not feeling forced. I can stay sometimes, I can come home when I want. Everything is fine.

I hope you all sleep well tonight. Take care of yourself. Until next time.

[sleeplessinpnw]

It's been awhile since I last posted. Thought I would make a life update post.

The summer is finally creeping up on us. It's May now and the warm weather is in full play. I'm so happy!! In a different place these days. Well... kind of. Until I'm put into a stressful situation. But for the most part, my depression has been a little less intense and I'm just feeling.... good. In a good mood today.

Going to St. Croix for my birthday in June and for aunt Barbaras memorial. I didn't know her very well, but I feel happy to be able to be with family during the occasion. About to meet a lot of cousins! I hope I will be able to remember names. Been trying to budget shopping for clothes to go. It hit me last night that I have tons of tees and some tank tops. I guess I mostly need comfortable bottoms and shorts to wear. GAINED WEIGHT!! Nothing old fits anymore. Going to hold onto some things though just in case my weight comes off. With my lifestyle habits, I have no idea when that will be happening. Just ordered a jump rope in hopes to at least get some cardio in since I hate running. Going to the store later today in hopes of getting healthier food. I do nooootttt know how to eat healthy apparently. I eat a lot of quesadillas and carbs so.... Going to try and cut back and eat salads. I don't even think my salads are healthy lol but better than canned food and mac n cheese.

I started vaping and 80 bucks later, I think it's time to quit. Obviously that's the smartest idea. Idk.... I'm trying not to smoke weed anymore and it gets hard when I'm use to smoking everyday. So whyyyyy a vape?? Nicotine is worse but it doesnt trigger the voices I hear. Weed does. I need to learn how to be sober and happy. I just.... get bored?? I'm awful!! Lol

Work is on hold for right now. I've been on break for now 2 and a half weeks. Still have money in my account but obviously that isn't going to last forever. Just trying to keep myself in a steady mood while I'm back to doing nothing. At least the sun is out. I can sit in the backyard and take in my surroundings. Trying not to drink at the moment as much because of my weight. But I dont need to always drink in the sun, it just makes it fun. Go figure. Anyway, I need to start applying for jobs again. I've been holding off because 1) I'm suppose to hear back from Sol for when they need more help again 2) St Croix is in two weeks and I feel like it would be hard to start a new position and then leave for a week 3) I'm still going to try and get a job with Premier Press and Q told me to wait and apply the end of June, beginning of July.

Therapy has been going well. I enjoy my sessions for the most part with my therapist. She's very sweet and I think I have made large progress since first starting. August is going to be a very large moment for me because it will mark the 1 year anniversary since being hospitalized. I told my mom that it's important to me. I want to celebrate some how. August will never be the same for me. I still have things that I need to clean out of my room from my voodoo craze. I should do that today.... it would feel good. It's hard looking at the mess in the corner of my room but once it's gone I think that I wil feel better. I really did some damage on my belongings and Ashley's. I will never fully recover from my actions. Scars. But I am working on moving forward everyday. I went to Mackenzies bridal shower yesterday and being in that community was SO HARD. I made it though. It's just weird being around parts of her world because the voices weirdly attached to it and it's humiliating to be around her. She was beyond sweet to me though and it felt good celebrating her for the evening.

Well.... thats kind of all the update I have. I'm going to try and check in with myself here more regularly. Cheers to bettering my mental well being, being strong and powering through all of this and getting better. I got this! Life keeps going on and is too short to keep beating myself up. Lot's of self love (minus the vaping BS).

[lesaltywarlock]

A Regular Day For Griffin Fogarty

A story about how Griffin Fogarty met a Demon. 

I was working on Griffin’s profile when I thought about this fic I made a while ago, detailing the story of how he met his Servant. I want to make similar stories for the rest of the Masters as well, but...well, I’ll get to that eventually.

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

What a beautiful day, ain’t it? The sun’s shining, the birds are chirping, and the car exhaust is as rotten as it was the day before.

“What a beautiful day.” Griffin Fogarty repeated his inner monologue, only questioning his sanity for a few seconds before sitting up. Reaching his arms up above his head to stretch, he promptly banged his knuckles on the metal roof of the van he called home. He recoiled and rubbed his mildly sore hands. “Jesus, I really need to stop doing that.”

Seriously, there were indents from how often he’s done that. 

To start off the day, he did his morning routine as anyone would. He neatly folded his thin blanket and placed it on the upper right corner of his mattress before throwing open the van’s back doors and slipping on some gym shoes. Griffin hopped out onto the blacktop of the gas station parking lot to go buy some breakfast. 

The familiar jingle of digital bells greeted him when he entered, along with the bored expression of the clerk at the door. An old Italian woman, with a voice ragged and scratchy from years of smoking, but she was kind and gave him free reign of the drink machines. 

“Hey, Griffin.” They said, just like always, with a heavy accent. “Just the usual?”

“Yes, please! Oh, actually I just got paid yesterday, so I might be able to splurge a bit more this time.” He placed down a crumpled up ten dollar bill with a cocky grin. “I’ll actually pay for my coffee this time. 

The woman’s name tag reflected the morning sun into his eyes, displaying her name. Janice. She smiled at him, perhaps the first expression of interest she’s made today. “Really, now? Why don’t you use it for something better.”

He denied it at first, but she kept insisting, so he eventually relented. Griffin roamed the three short aisles of snacks and occasional premade meals before choosing out some trail mix, a salad, and a Gatorade for when he gets thirsty. There weren’t many options he could choose when it came to meals, as most of them contained meat, but he’s grown to like what little he had. He also got his usual coffee order, adding as much cream and sugar as humanly possible in the tall paper cup filled with slightly burnt vanilla flavored coffee. 

Janice scanned his things and handed him his precious change before they bid their farewells. Today was a weekday, and he only got gas on Sundays. He hopped into the ripped up, sun bleached driver’s seat of his van and sped off into the city he’s memorized like the back of his hand. 

The gym was his first stop, as always, where he greeted the man at the front desk who only worked Mondays before heading off to his usual round of machinery. He had no need for exercising this frequently every morning, but it was a nice way to get him energized and ready to take on the world. 

Also, gyms had showers, and since he didn’t exactly have a home, a corresponding gym membership would allow him to use said shower all he wanted. Which he did, for maybe a good thirty minutes afterwards. 

Today was an off day for him. The past few days have been off days for him, mostly because he couldn’t find work after being let go from his old job, and it was rare for anyone to come to him of all people for appliance maintenance or locksmithing no matter how much he advertised it online. The only exception was yesterday, when he miraculously snagged a job helping someone locked outside of their home. 

After changing into much cleaner and less sweaty clothes in his van, he then drove to the local library. Having a library card was also a much needed expense since they had free wifi, computers, and, of course, books! Grabbing his old backpack that was practically ripping apart from years of use, he headed inside and plopped onto his usual spot at one of the many wooden long tables inside. 

Griffin was still a student after all, taking a few online classes over the summer partly for fun and to finish off some electives he missed before. School was difficult, but having a full ride made things a bit easier, or at least it motivated him enough to keep trying for at least a B+. Without it, he’d probably have gone into debt which he sure as hell didn’t need when he didn’t even have a home.

His stomach’s incessant growling signaled the end of today’s work session. As he left the library and navigated through the parking lot, he mentally tallied up the money he had saved up along with the number of places to eat at. In the end, he decided on his favorite taco truck that was always close to where some of his friends lived. It was hard being on the streets as a vegetarian, but the owners of the truck were kind enough to start making vegetarian options for him. 

He was about to start the engine when he noticed a slip of paper peeking out from the lower left corner of his windshield. Griffin stared at it for a few seconds before fear ran through his spine. He let out a defeated sigh and got out to retrieve the ticket. 

“Come on, New York, what the hell did I do wrong this time?” He groaned and pushed the door open with his foot. “Seriously, you see a guy living in a van and think he’s a criminal or something….”

When he grabbed the ticket, he was surprised to see that it very much wasn’t a ticket. In fact, it was a parchment adorned with a golden eagle wax sealing. After peeling it off, he opened it up and read a fancily written letter. 

To the head of the Fogarty family, 

Fortune smiles upon you today, oh fallen blacksmith. You, whose family has all but perished, have been given a chance at redemption. The Holy Grail of legend, an all powerful wish-granter, has been planted in New York City. You and six other Mages shall conduct a ritual known as a Holy Grail War, in which you summon a familiar, a phantom of the past, at your side and defeat your fellow Mages so as to win ownership of the Grail. Only one Master and Servant will win this. If you search the back of your van, you will find the materials needed to start the process, however, a catalyst to help assist with summoning your Servant is not provided. Perhaps you already own one, as the heir to a family of talented armorers. 

Good luck, 

- Quentin Rambert

“What the fuck?” Griffin exclaimed aloud, turning the heads of a family entering the library and causing the parents to glare at him. His face heated up, and he yelled out, “sorry!”

Obviously, they didn’t care about his apology, and the kid didn’t care at all about what he said either.

He turned his attention back to the parchment in his hands, which weighed as much as the world itself. A chance to wish for anything he desired, and all he had to do was kill six other people and their familiars. 

Griffin wasn’t unfamiliar with the idea of killing someone, though he never did. He was still a Mage, and his pride as a Mage still burned within him no matter how long it’s been since he lost everything so many years ago. Nonetheless, he was still inexperienced, and he lived in a van of all things. If anyone found out, he’d be better off as death fodder. 

But…there was still a chance for him to win, right? All he needed was his familiar to fight with him and a catalyst to help summon them. 

He crawled into the back of the van through the driver’s seat and found a duffel bag containing another large parchment containing a summoning circle, the directions and incantations to summon the Servant, and an address. 

After looking it up on his phone, he discovered it was an old abandoned store in a practically barren part of town. It looked shady, but then again, most Mages were. 

Griffin weighed the odds, but he began to imagine seeing his family’s faces again. His mother’s kind smile and his father’s tough gaze that always encouraged him to succeed. He shut his eyes and pictured that scene countless times before coming to an answer. 

“Alright, Quentin. I’ll accept this offer of yours.” 

The only problem, of course, was a catalyst. Some item meant to help summon this Servant of his own. Considering he was homeless and also very poor, there wasn’t much that he had much less could use as a catalyst. 

But then a thought popped into existence in his mind. He hoisted the mattress off the floor of the van revealing a garbage bag filled with mementos of his past protected by bubble wrap. After rummaging through family pictures, documents, and some personal keepsakes from his parents, he found it. The first sword he ever made that earned his family’s approval, and it was the start of his journey as a Fogarty before it all came to a screeching halt. He sold a lot of his tools that came after that for money, but he could never quite let go of this one. The blade itself wasn’t perfect, with the edges slightly jagged and starting to rust from years of being hidden away. Even the pommel was barely attached to the hilt, and the leather sheath it was in had started to rot away.

But it was his, and maybe it could give him some badass Servant to boot. 

He drove to the address on the paper, only getting lost once trying to take a shortcut along the way. Eventually, he arrived at the empty square and headed inside past the cracked nonfunctioning automatic doors. 

Either a storm passed through it or a fight broke out, because the whole place was wrecked and filled with debris. A long gash wrapped around the entire store, with overturned shelves and carts all slashed in half in a manner that looked way too clean to be anything natural. Obviously, none of this was natural, but….

“You’ve accepted our invitation, then?”

The shadows spoke in a shrill, cocky voice. Emerging from the darkness came a young man several inches shorter than him. He was dressed in a black suit lined with gold, and the insignia of an eagle was branded on his shoulder. The man strutted his way over to Griffin, staring straight at him with green eyes shimmering with some sort of electricity. Smoothing his dirty blond hair back, he remarked, “call me Quentin. I’m the heir to—”

“The Rambert family. Famous and rich modern day aristocrats who’ve served New York for years. I-I read your stupid invitation or whatever.” Griffin waved the parchment around in his hands, only to realize that he just yelled at the heir of a rich and powerful family who could probably sick the fucking mafia or something on him. “Uh…I mean, yeah, I’ll be in your Grail War.”

“I’m a bit honored you know me.” Quentin stood up straight and bared his chest out in pride. “Then again, everyone knows me.”

“Why are you here?”

“To observe the birth of a new Master, of course.” They replied. “It’s not everyday that one gets to be in a Holy Grail War.”

Griffin wasn’t exactly buddy-buddy with any Mages, much less the famed Rambert family. He was immediately suspicious, and all of his brain’s alarms flared up with every passing second, but it’s not like he had a choice. If he rejected, there’s no telling what they might do to him. Though if he accepted, there was also a chance that Quentin might kill him on the spot. 

His only choice was to do the ritual.

He glared at the man but tried his best to continue as usual. He laid out the parchment of the summoning circle and placed his old sword in the center. Quentin raised a brow at it and said, “you’re trying to summon a Saber, then? Going for a strong Servant from the bat, aren’t you?”

“If it helps me win, then I’ll do whatever.” Griffin stepped back a few paces and held up the paper with the incantation. With a catalyst, it made the whole process much easier, so all he had to do now was start the ritual. 

“Let silver and steel be the essence. Let stone and the archduke of contracts be the foundation. Let fire and brimstone pay tribute. Let rise a wall against the wind that shall fall. Let the four cardinal gates close. Let the three-forked road from the crown reaching unto the Kingdom rotate!”

The moment he started the incantation, energy poured out from his body in the form of flames that burned the parchment away, leaving the now glowing shape of the summoning circle. Quentin’s face was illuminated in the light, giving his cold expression an eerie glow. 

He continued. 

“Let it be declared now. Your flesh shall serve under me, and my fate shall be with your sword. Submit to the beckoning of the Holy Grail. Answer, if you would submit to this will and this truth.”

His sword trembled, absorbing the summoning circle’s energy before shooting out a pillar of pure light up into the ceiling. A gust of wind shoved him back, but he managed to keep himself from falling over. As he spoke, a deep voice repeated his words moments after they left his tongue. 

“From the Seventh Heaven, attended to by three great words of power, come forth from the ring of restraint, protector of the holy balance!”

The light promptly disappeared in the blink of an eye. The energy surging through the summoning circle faded away like embers crumbling off firewood. It was just him and Quentin once more. 

“Did…it work?” He asked above the ensuing silence. 

Quentin said nothing but pointed at his right hand. When he looked down, he found a lion’s head branded on his skin like a tattoo. Its jaws were open in a ferocious roar, with eyes that pierced right through his being. It burned, but no matter how much he rubbed at it, they didn’t smudge. 

“Those are your Command Seals.” Quentin explained. “They are proof of your title as Master. They’re powerful spells that allow you to order your Servant to do anything, regardless of power or will, but remember that you only have three. Use them wisely.”

Suddenly, they started to ache even more after hearing that information. Did they really just freely give him the spells to give his familiar absolute orders? Griffin looked around the store, not finding a single person, and a part of him wondered if the ritual actually worked. HIs Servant was nowhere to be seen. 

“I…uh, don’t know what to do now.” He murmured in a feeble attempt to fill the silence. 

“What we do now is kill each other.” 

Griffin choked on his spit. He stumbled backwards, tripping on an empty cart and falling on his ass. Quentin approached him at a snail’s pace, but it didn’t ease the fear creeping into his throat. “Wh-what?”

“With you, our final Master, the Holy Grail War has officially begun.” Lightning crackled between his fingertips which he clasped together, smiling with bloodlust. “The objective is to kill six of the seven Servants, but considering they’re much more powerful than regular humans, it’d be easier to target the Masters. Starting…with you.” 

Oh fuck. Oh shit. He was about to die. Griffin Fogarty was about to die. He tried to move, but found himself paralyzed by the growing static electricity in the air. His nose hairs burned with the scent of ozone as clouds gathered above them. Quentin snapped his fingers, sending a bolt of lightning to strike the ground in front of him. 

At first, he thought the man just had bad aim, but the sound of footsteps growing closer behind him told Griffin that it was done on purpose. It was a signal. 

He turned his head to come face to face with a spear flying straight at his chest, held by a warrior in silver armor. His brief, miserable life flashed before him, and it only made his impending doom feel even more disappointing. After trying so hard to turn his life around after losing everything, this was where it all ended. 

“Pick yourself up, Griffin Fogarty!” That same deep, echoing voice spoke both in his mind and in reality. Milliseconds later, a sword, his sword, deflected the warrior’s blow. The wielder was a samurai, or at least someone dressed in the thick plated samurai armor that he’s only ever seen in movies. Despite his sword being a standard European style longsword, they wielded it similarly to a kendo player and used it to parry the silver-clad warrior’s strikes with their spear. 

The samurai stared at him with blood red eyes, almost like a demon. His words shook Griffin to his core, like they were commands etched into his very being. “Your life shall not end here. Be brave, Master.” 

All of the fear and horror that froze him in place melted away. He pushed himself to his feet and looked over to Quentin’s direction. The man furrowed his brow in anger, yet he didn’t seem surprised by anything that happened. “Lancer! Distract that Servant, I’ll take care of him.” 

Electricity gathered in Quentin’s hands as he prepared a spell, but the samurai was much faster than that. He kicked the other Servant, Lancer, in the gut and sent them flying all the way across the store. Then, they were gone in the blink of an eye and reappeared right in front of Quentin, striking them in the nose with the butt of his sword. 

Their spell fizzled out as they stumbled back clutching their bloodied nose. Quentin glared at them as Lancer ran to his side with his spear pointed at Griffin. “Alright, you pissed off the wrong guy. Servant or not, you’re still outnumbered.”

The air shimmered as dozens of men with assault rifles appeared from the shadows aiming their laser sights at him. His Servant took up a defensive position, holding up an arm in front of him as some sort of shield. They then huffed and said, “I assure you that you are the one who is outnumbered.” 

Plumes of smoke swallowed up the men as the sounds of fighting ensued. Seconds later, when the dust settled, figures cloaked in dark blue clothing that blended in with the darkness stood over the now unconscious gunmen. For the sake of his sanity, Griffin ignored the blood staining their katana. 

Lancer took one step towards them before Quentin ordered them to halt. A smile formed on the man’s face, almost seeming satisfied as he applauded Griffin saying, “I must admit, you’ve outsmarted me. What may be a setback to my parents is a job well done for you. You’re one step closer to winning the Grail.”

“Is the Grail a trap as well?” He asked, “is all of this one big elaborate scheme?”

“I assure you that the winner will receive their prize in the end.” They answered, grabbing onto Lancer’s forearm. “I can’t assure you that I’ll help you, though. Maybe the other Masters will be willing to cooperate. Outside of us, there are five others that you will have a chance to meet tomorrow.”

Griffin tensed at the sound of meeting the other participants in this war. He couldn’t help but imagine Mages equally as powerful as Quentin, paired with deadly Servants that could take down a hundred men without so much as lifting a finger. His own Servant’s eyes burrowed into him as they said, “be calm. I will protect you with my life.” 

He gathered his courage and forced out his fears through a heavy sigh. “What do you mean by that?”

A few seconds passed before they replied, “a banquet will be held at the Rambert estate outside of the city. This will be your chance to assess the competition and for us to celebrate this momentous occasion. Please, try to wear something fancy. There’ll be a strict dress code.”

“B-but I live in a van, you think I have the money for a suit and tie?”

Quentin shrugged, “not exactly my problem, now is it? I don’t have the time to help you anyways. Being a Rambert’s pretty busy work. Come on, then, Lancer.”

With the loud crackle of thunder and lightning, the pair vanished. As his adrenaline faded, so too did his energy. He fell to his knees clutching at his chest trying to catch his breath. His Servant then pulled him to his feet and gripped him by the shoulders. “Are you alright, Master?”

“Y-yeah, thank you…for everything, and all that.” Griffin managed a smile. “So, you’re my Servant, huh?”

The samurai nodded before sheathing Griffin’s sword and hanging it at his waist, right next to the far sleeker curved katana. They bowed deeply as they said, “you may call me Saber. I shall be your blade from now on, Master.”

“Uh…just call me Griffin.” He laughed nervously. “Master’s…a bit weird of a name.”

“Lord Griffin, then.”

He had a feeling that was the closest Saber would get. Griffin motioned for them to leave the store, and as they did, he couldn’t help but eye the shadows wondering if those men from earlier were still in hiding. “Uh…Saber, where’d all your guys run off to?”

“They are my Noble Phantasm.” He explained. “I can summon them on command to fight and spy for the both of us.”

“Um, mind if I ask what that is?”

Saber nodded. “We Servants are Heroic Spirits, phantoms of figures of the past and fiction. We are given special abilities known as Noble Phantasms that represent the legends that we are known for. Some may wield holy swords, like the legendary King Arthur and Excalibur, while a samurai such as myself is given command over three hundred men. In turn, you are also given that same privilege.” 

Griffin’s mind wandered off to a certain BBC show of King Arthur, and how the king definitely sparked an interest in him. He threw that thought away as he slid out of the store and into the parking lot. The sun had set, bringing with it the blanket of night. He didn’t like being in parking lots at night outside of the gas station he’s basically called home for years. It was so dark, and sometimes eerie as well. However, Saber had such a strong presence that he felt the need to be strong as well. 

“Do you have a name, Saber?” He asked. “Your…real name. I don’t remember any samurai named Saber in history.” 

“It is just a cover name. There are seven classes of Servants in a Holy Grail War, and Saber is one of them.” They answered once more, and Griffin suddenly felt bad for asking so many questions to a man who only just came into being a few minutes ago. “My True Name…the name I was given in life…is Hanzo.”

“Hanzo…that’s a much better name than Saber.” Griffin laughed, throwing open the door to his van and sliding into the driver’s seat while allowing the Servant to rest in the back. “I’m guessing these True Names are supposed to be kept secret?” 

Saber nodded. 

“Huh…must be weird, you know, to never be called by your name. I wonder if you Servants ever forget who you were back in the day.”

No response. 

Griffin was beginning to see how most of their conversations would turn out. He hid his disappointment and drove out of the square, suddenly doubting his actions and the future. Perhaps most importantly, he began to doubt whether or not his wallet could handle having another mouth to feed. He could survive for today, sure, but what about the coming days? What about the literal suit and fucking tie he’d have to buy for tomorrow?

He decided to go and ask his friends tomorrow for help. They were all rich anyways, or at least they had homes unlike him, which Griffin considered wealthy enough. Too tired to do anything else, he pulled into the gas station, headed inside to fetch another pre-packed salad and a chocolate chip cookie as dessert, before flopping onto the mattress in the back of the van. 

Saber observed him as he wolfed down his food with reckless abandon. Griffin felt a bit awkward since he’s never exactly had guests in his van, but he did his best to ignore it. 

“Are you sure it’s safe to be out here, Lord Griffin?” Saber questioned, eyes roaming the nearly empty parking lot with a hint of unease. “We cannot be stuck out in the open like this, when there might be enemies at every corner.”

“It’s the safest I can manage.” He answered, “considering I don’t have a place to go other than this ol’ thing.”

Griffin proceeded to bang on the van’s walls, causing Saber to freeze and then slowly nod. “I see…so you have no home?”

“I’ve been living on the streets for a couple years now, ever since my parents died and their house burned down.” Griffin cleaned up his hands with some hand sanitizer before stuffing his trash in a plastic bag to throw away in the morning. “All they left me were this van and the tools they made, before I had to sell those for money. That sword I used to summon you is the only thing I couldn’t sell.” 

“It is a fine sword.” The Servant unsheathed the blade and held it up against the light pouring out from the gas station. “Whoever made this holds great potential as a craftsman.”

His chest burned with pride hearing those words, and he smiled, sitting up a little bit straighter. “Thanks. It’s the first sword I made that earned my parent’s approval. I could probably make a better one now, but…a blacksmith can’t exactly do his job without the tools, and buying those tools takes money that I obviously don’t have.”

It was the worst thing about his situation. If he just had the tools, he might just be able to start earning a living for himself. But in order to do any of that, he needed money, but he also needed money for food and paying for his phone or gas and all the fucking things homeless people still deal with despite not having a home. 

“A blacksmith?” Saber questioned, “there’s far more to you than meets the eye, Lord Griffin.” 

“Heh…yeah. My whole family line made their legacy as blacksmiths.” Griffin hung his head and conjured up memories of his childhood. The roar of a furnace and the constant hammering of metal always sounded so comforting to him. For a long time, he could never fall asleep without hearing the sounds of fire crackling in the background. “We made a lot of things…and I sold them all, just to get enough money to survive.”

In hindsight, it was a bit dumb, but he was a dumb teenager who didn’t know how to survive on his own. 

They sat in silence. Griffin shifted around before eventually laying down on his bed and wrapping himself as best as possible in his blanket. It was getting late, and if he wanted to wake up early to get that suit, then he’d best sleep now. Maybe it’ll give him a bit more time to dream as well. 

“Rest well, Lord Griffin.” Saber said. “My men and I will keep you safe, both you and your dreams.” 

He heard the Servant exit the van and shut the door. Normally, Griffin was still paranoid sleeping out in the open like this, even with the door’s locked, but today felt different. Then again, not everyone had some badass samurai and his retinue of three hundred ninja to protect them. 

As his eyelids grew heavy with exhaustion, Griffin fell asleep, and he fell into the warm embrace of his dreams where his mother and father still lived, and a place where he wished he could live as well.

[valiant-portabella-pirkko]

Timey’s Great Big Pinned Post of Everything

[   she/her | writer/artist | 29 | IGN (NA) Timey.6853  ]

just another friendly local aro-ace salad enthusiast

Hi yes hello, welcome to Timey’s Guild Wars 2 blog where I post about Guild Wars 2 and basically nothing else. Expect a lot of salads, a lot of Living World 1, and especially a lot of Scarlet Briar. Sometimes I draw or write things, too. Mostly I just yell my meta commentary of questionable sanity into the void, though. Y’know how it is. Scarlet stole my last remaining brain cell and adamantly refuses to give it back.

I’m always happy to chatter with folks! Feel free to drop by anytime; I can be a little slow to respond at times, but I really love exchanging theories and ideas and hearing about obscure or interesting details people have found! Give me ALL of the lore. Tell me about your favorite characters. Ramble about OCs. For real, I love to hear all the things okay; don’t worry about being mutuals, either!

DISCLAIMER: This isn’t a place for bigotry, drama, or rudeness though; nobody’s got time for that. Terfs, racists, ableists, and all such things get blocked on sight out here. Hate of any form will never be welcome, period.

With that out of the way, I’ll include some helpful navigation links and summaries of my various AU projects below the cut! Feel free to take a peek if you want. I’ll gradually add more stuff over time, too.

The Handy Dandy List of Links

My Posts

Reblogs

My Art

My Fics

Regrowth AU

Portabella Pirkko - Tag

Harbinger Saoirse - Tag

“Lost But Not Forgotten”

“A Garden of Memories”

Flourish AU

Ceara the Defiant - Tag

Dragonheart Pirkko - Tag

Saoirse the Flame - Tag

Pact Admiral Mai Trin - Tag

Tideturners AU

The Sidewinder - Page | Tag

Grand High Sovereign Ruju - Tag

       1: “Red Alert”

Timey’s AU Collection, in Summary

Regrowth AU: What Would You Do For a Second Chance?

Even Elder Dragons have limits. And as it happens, a being whose power relies on life has no hold on the realm of the dead. In the Domain of the Lost, a spirit awakens for the first time in many years. For a time, she spends her penance leading those that her actions sent to their graves too early-- but that would never be enough to satisfy Scarlet Briar. It’s too slow. Too tedious... Too boring. And she isn’t prepared to spend all of eternity tending to spirits who hate her for choices she never would have made of her own volition.

So when a stranger reaches through the Mists seeking her guidance and her power in a new alliance, Scarlet accepts-- and finds her spirit anchored to a rather unconventional ex-mordrem revenant. But the world has changed a great deal in her absence, and thanks to their new goal... It’s about to change a whole lot more. They’re both going to make quite sure of that.

Tyria isn’t the only thing that’s going to change, though. Ceara hasn’t been herself in a long, long time... And now, without the dragon’s influence crushing her sense of self, she’s finally free to rediscover the person she should have been. Maybe there’s still time to reclaim her legacy after all.

If she can avoid almost destroying the world (again), that is...

Flourish AU: What If One Choice Could Change the World?

Sometimes all it takes is a few words in the right place at the right time... A moment of solidarity that by all rights, never should have happened. But the Dream works in mysterious ways, and as echoes rippled across the Mists from distant worlds, it learned of a different future and an unexpected outcome. All it took was a single, subtle nudge to set the ball rolling, and so it did.

On that fateful day in the Grove, Caithe never would have thought to ask the inquisitive sylvari what she was working on. But, just this once, the Dream did.

Curiosity was repaid in kind. A repaired healing device was left in the infirmary, its Secondborn donator unspoken but well-known. Beginning to recognize the value of Ceara’s peculiar research, others began to quietly peek at the budding scientist as she worked. And while she might never have been a social butterfly, the acceptance warmed her heart of ice into something far softer. She didn’t have to choose between her dream and the Dream. And even if she left the Grove far behind... Perhaps she didn’t have to cut it off entirely.

And that was all she’d ever truly needed; the opportunity of choice.

Ceara never left the Dream, not entirely. She listened to its advice, following when it suited her and forging a unique path all her own. She became not an engineer, but a thief, following in the footsteps of her new mentor. When Saoirse needed her advice, she was still in the Grove to provide it. The world changed, slowly but surely, one altered life at a time.

The Dream’s grand design came to pass. Three champions would rise like stars, facing the dragons together. Heart, Mind, and Soul... Pirkko, Ceara, and Saoirse, from the Priory, Whispers, and Vigil. A bold new future awaited-- a future where the horrors of Scarlet’s Alliance would never be known, for there had never even been a Scarlet Briar to lead it.

But the greater their success, the lusher their world...

And the higher the flames would burn when it all ignited.

Tideturners AU: What Happens When There is No Hero?

Mai Trin wasn’t born to be a hero. That was supposed to be Ruju’s job. He was the one who would become the Commander, leading unlikely alliances to victory time and time again to save his world from the draconic plight. He was strong, and relentless, and brave, and intelligent. He was always meant to be a leader.

But his heart was just as cold and dead as the biomechanical minions he commanded in battle, and the future he would create was not a kind one.

He was invited aboard Scarlet’s Alliance, but this would prove a deadly error; Commander Ruju made no differentiation between a willing dragon minion and a rebelling one. Scarlet Briar was claimed by his blade in the dead of night, and the rest were left with a brutal choice: fall in line, or share her fate. Mai, realizing this was no longer the alliance she had once believed in, took her Aetherblades and fled into the Mists.

But the Grand High Sovereign’s rampage did not end. He blazed a devastating trail of bloodshed across the Tyrian continent, wiping away all that dared stand in his path. With every fallen foe, his army only continued to grow. Dragons were crushed by brute force, and magic poured into the increasingly unstable fabric of reality. With every passing day there was less left to save.

Mai Trin wasn’t born to be a hero. She never would have chosen that role for herself-- and whether that was what she became would be debated by many. But she was meant to be a leader, and if Ruju would not be the one her Tyria needed, she was the only one left who could. Alliances were forged, civilians were evacuated, and a mask was donned; she was no longer Mai Trin. She was the Sidewinder, and their hidden Turnabout deep in the Mists would offer a second chance to those who had nowhere else left to go. As the years passed, it became the stuff of legend, a tale of hope and renewal even in the face of impossible odds.

Their world is long-gone now, nothing but haunted memories in the minds of those precious few who escaped alive. But the Tideturners remain, one last refuge against a Commander who decided the world wasn’t worth saving. He won’t save them, so they’ll save themselves instead.

“We're the Tideturners, and we won’t be washed away.”

[captain-kit-adventuress]

Hey, let's not forget the fact the artists also chose to portray this through the widely available abundance of "junk" food, not just sitting in hoverchairs without exercise.

Except that there's not a lot of good evidence to show that the food matters to that degree, other than in amount, and only that is to make sure we're eating enough. Oh, sure, there's lots of "evidence," mostly sponsored by the weight-loss/wellness industry, showing that arbitrarily-decided "unhealthy" foods are "bad," and one should eat as little as possible overall to be "healthy," but I said good evidence. The scientifically-sound evidence we have shows that yes, our food content does matter, but not in the way we think. Variety is as important as the amount food itself, and level of processing matters way, way less than anyone wants to admit (and that "processed foods" is just another way of saying junk, because almost ALL food is processed in some way or another). Mostly, we're not eating enough and we're not getting enough variety, because eating salad all the time still isn't variety, even if it's considered "healthy."

If we're going to point at food as part of the problem, where the ship goes wrong is not that they're eating lots of energy-dense food that tastes good, but that everyone lacks meaningful variety. When left alone with variety and abundance, people will self-select foods in ways that tend to balance out, and they'll eat enough to support their needs (and I don't just mean bare caloric needs, I mean all needs), which is usually a lot more than what we allow ourselves now. And yeah, some people will still be fat. It is possible to do everything perfectly, from food to exercise to whatever else, and still be fat. Fat is not evidence of moral or social failure.

What I find troubling is the picture the movie paints as utopia: this sort of fantasy agrarian society where everyone works hard and eats "natural" foods and everything is perfect and no one ever fights ever becaue utopia, right? But we know that it's not, we spent most of human history trying to not have to do back-breaking farm labour for sixteen hours or more a day, because it sucks. Not only that, there was a shockingly awful amount of Western eurocentrism on display. And everyone just went along with it on the ship because *checks notes* their needs were met? Only, that's not how human psychology actually works. You can't tell me some enterprising fourteen-year-olds wouldn't have gotten bored at watching shitty content all day and not tried to mess with the bots. Like, boredom is still going to exist 700 years into the future. People will always find a way to live and be people. There were so many things the people who made the movie got wrong before the movie even existed. I get that they're trying to make a "statement," but it was a shitty, reductive, completely implausible statement without much thought beyond "fat and junk bad" and "thin and farm and natural good."

It was basically an advertisement for wellness culture, which has not proven to actually promote wellness in any meaningful way. It could have been a beautiful masterpiece of a film if not for that.

it was kind of fucked up for wall-e to be that way about fat people now that im thinking about it