#IVE HAD THIS IN MY CAMERA ROLL FOR TWO YEARS.

[righteousenjoymentofthunder]

just. dropping this here

[crystalpallette]

happy (late) sig day!

I was in the mood to draw some formalwear, or as close to formalwear as the puyo style gets lmao, and of course sig has got to have some sort of bug motif. so butterfly wings it is! the day may be eight minutes over but in my heart every day is sig day. god bless

[swanlakebaby]

— missing you | pjm

prompt: seeing jimin after long distancing.

⸝⸝ pairing: bf!jimin x fem!reader

⸝⸝ warnings: smut, kissing, teasing, whispering, masturbation, sexting, dom jimin, creampie, multiple rounds, semi fluff jimin, eating out, swallowing, etc.

⸝⸝ word count: 2.3k

⸝⸝ note: this is one of my favorites that ive written so far! it was fun to write out and i tried to do something new if you couldn’t tell. i eventually want to start a series soon but im still trying to figure out the storyline for that. i hope u enjoy!

• ps: my requests are still open. (please make sure to state whether you want your request to include smut or not!)

nsfw, 18+, minors dni

-

your phone dings , your screen lighting up. you roll over and lazily grab your phone , perking up once you realize it's another notification from jimin. you sit up in the bed and look at the chat.

★ jimin - i miss you so much...

★ jimin - i keep thinking of all things i'll do to you when i get back.

you smile at the message , laying back down on the bed. you stare at the screen for a while as you think of a response. but before you could answer , another message comes through.

★ jimin - i hate this time of year. we're always working on music , which i love , but it means i have to spend time away from you for a few weeks. don't you hate it too?

☆ you - i miss you too ! i hate how cold the other side of the bed is. when are you coming home? :(

★ jimin - soon , i promise.

you grin , suddenly excited about the idea of seeing jimin. hou sit up on your knees and slowly lift your tank top. you go to the camera app and flip the camera toward you , snapping photos of your breasts. you go back to the chat and send the picture. you watch as jimin types , then stops some time after the picture is sent.

★ jimin - you look amazing. i can't wait to touch you again.

a message comes through shortly after. a picture of jimin slouched back onto his bed , his shirt and pants off. the visual of his abs and boxers made your mouth water.

for the rest of the night , you spent the entire time messaging jimin back and forth about random things. plans you had coming up , small date ideas , etc. the conversation then takes a turn as jimin goes inactive for a while. you continuously message him until coming to the conclusion that he had fallen asleep on accident. after a while , you receive a video clip from jimin. you click to watch it , unsure do what to expect.

in the same slouched position , jimin rubs his hand over his boxers , his bulge now visible. he slowly slides his hands in his boxers and takes out his cock. he was hard , firmly wrapping his hand around himself as he pans the camera up. he smirks , before lowering the angle once again. he begins to pump his cock , whimpering and moaning into the camera as he speeds up and slows down. he mumbles your name into the camera as his body stiffens , white fluids spilling out over his chest. he grunts , aggressively pumping out all of his cum until he’s empty. he let's go of his cock tiredly and shows the cum on his hand and abs.

after watching the video , you only wished he could come home sooner. in response , you lay on your back fully. panning the camera up and down your body. at this point , you only had on panties and a thin tank top. you play with your breasts in the camera for a few moments before flipping it and propping your legs up. you take two fingers and slide them down your panties. you begin recording yourself as you intensely finger yourself , the wet sounds from your vagina getting stickier.

your panties have a dark patch on them as you begin to throb and soak through them. you play with yourself for a while until eventually , your legs begin to get shaky as you throw your head back and moan into an orgasm. your body shakes as you slide your fingers deeper into you. panting , you take your fingers out and show the camera. your fingers were sticky and glossy now. you flipped the camera onto yourself and recorded yourself cleaning them up with your tongue , one of jimin's favorite things he loved seeing you do.

jimin immediately calls you after receiving the video. ''i miss you.'' was all he said. ''then come home. please.'' you whisper into the phone. without saying a word , he hangs up. you giggle , knowing that he hated being teased and now he probably had an attitude. you quickly clean yourself up and decide to finally head to sleep. the orgasm gave you a wave of uncontrollable sleepiness and you wanted nothing more than to go to bed and decided that you’d continue the conversation with jimin tomorrow.

-

you feel the other side of the bed shift as someone slides in next to you. you immediately open your eyes , making sure that it wasn’t some perverted intruder. upon seeing him , you jump into his arms as you yell out his name. “jimin!” he chuckles , pulling you into a warm embrace. he sways you as he buries his face into your neck , giving it small pecks. “i missed you so much! why are you here? how did you even get here? it feels like i just talked to you!” your heart was fluttering as the person you loved and cared about so much was literally right in front of you. he looked into your eyes deeply before speaking. “as soon as i heard the whispering , i booked my ticket and began packing. i decided to leave early.”

you couldn’t believe what you were hearing. he left his job early to come surprise you and see you. you didn’t know how to feel. “i love you so much!” you beamed. “show me.” he says , leaning back onto the bed. “you just got here.” you say , pushing at his chest. “i don’t like being teased , you know this. so show me how much you love and missed me.” he bites his lip , looking you up and down. you roll your eyes , not taking him seriously. as you attempt to get off of him , he grabs onto your waist and pulls you onto his lap. “jimin let me go.” you whine , looking out at the morning sky. he chuckles , gripping onto your waist tightly , not budging at all.

you wrap your arms around him , smiling at him. “you’re so annoying.” you mumble. “what was that?” jimin says , smirking. you hide a smile and look down. “why are you being shy?” he whispers. lifting your chin up with his index finger. you giggle nervously , unsure of what to say. “it’s been a while that’s all.”

“then let me take the lead , okay?” he gently pushes you onto your back and pushes his bulge against your thin previously soaked panties from the video. he hums as he recognizes them , pushing himself deeper against you. “i know exactly what i want to do to you.” he says in a whisper. suddenly , he grabs you and lifts you off of the bed , walking you over to the windows of your shared apartment. he stands behind you , kissing your shoulders and rubbing the sides of your body. jimin pauses for a moment , standing extremely close to the right side of your face. “will you let me show you how much i missed you?” he whispers into your ear. chills run through your body as you get excited. you don’t say anything , but you nod , giving him the go ahead. “i need words.” he says in a low voice , playing with the sides of your panties. “show me jimin.” you say.

with that that he slides down your panties , getting on his knees as he brings them all the way down to your ankles. he holds onto your butt cheeks , slowly spreading them apart as he shoves his face into them , licking your vagina in a slow pace. you place your hands onto the windows , arching your back slightly as jimin repeatedly eats at your vagina , leaving small pecks on your folds. you lift your leg a bit and jimin holds it steady. he devours you in a way you’ve never see him before. you wonder how long he’s been waiting to do this. you slowly grind against his face , small moans escaping your lips everytime his tongue grazes your clit. he then stands up and begins taking off his shirt and pants , wasting no time at all. he takes out his cock immediately and rubs himself hard.

he pushes you up against the windows , holding onto your head. he slides inside of you , not allowing you to fully adjust to the length of him. he thrusts in and out of you hungrily , grunting as your butt smacks against his lower waist. “i missed you so much.” he says out of breath , not slowing down the pace. you turns your face to face his , holding onto your neck as you stare deeply into each others eyes. you bite your lips and manage to spit out a “i missed you too.” in between breathless moans. you leave your left hand on the window , taking your right one and holding the side of his face as he pounds you aggressively , not considering the fact that neighbors could probably hear.

after a few moments , jimin stops , pulling out and cumming all over your ass. you turn your head to look as you attempt to catch your breath. he smacks your butt , making it jiggle slightly. he then grabs you and walks you over to the end of the bed. he bends you over the small bed bench. you hold onto the bench , half of your body keeping you steady on the floor , the other half of the bench. jimin holds onto your sides , fucking you. he looks over to the bedroom mirror , running his hands through his hair as he admires the view. the cum on your ass begins dripping down slowly , some of it getting messy and sticking onto jimin.

he looks down and watches his cock slide in and out of you in a fast pace as he fucks you. he grabs onto your shirt and pulls it , using it to keep his pace consistent. “i’m gonna cum again..” jimin mumbles , gripping onto you tightly. the phrase alone makes you throb , your knees buckle as the sensation of orgasming overcomes you. your body twitches as you cum all over jimin’s dick , making a sticky white mess.

small beads of sweat slide down jimin’s chest and abs. he slams into you with one final trust , not pulling out as he fills you up with his cum. you curse under his breath , feeling his cum drip out of you and into the bench. your body felt weak and tired.

jimin slides out of you and steps back. he walks over to the dresser and grabs a few napkins. he begins slowly wiping you clean , making sure to also clean up his cock. you lay there out of breath , your vagina feeling exhausted and sore. jimin teases you , rubbing his fingers along your vagina. you jolt forward , the nerves in your clit extra sensitive now. he chuckles at his , smacking your butt and helping you up off of the bench. he sits down , pulling you on top of him. his cock is still hard. you reach behind you and grab onto it , slowly stroking it. he closes his eyes and throws his head back slightly as his tip feels sensitive. without warning , you lift yourself up and slide his cock into you. he groans , opening his eyes and placing his hands around your waist. “break please.” jimin mumbles , feeling tired.

“it’s my turn.” you say. he hides a smile , leaning back and resting his back against the bed. you put your hands on his shoulders and slowly grind on him. you continue this motion for a while , looking down at jimin as he looks up at you , his eyes half lidded. he can barely muster out a moan as he just lays back and enjoys the feeling of your vagina once again. you prop yourself up on your feet and grip onto jimin’s shoulders , bouncing on his cock like never before. jimin perks up , load moans escaping his mouth. he dirty talks you , teasing you to go faster and harder on his cock.

he suddenly pushes you off , grabbing you and putting you to your knees. you open your mouth , staring up at jimin and begging him to cum for you. he grabs his cock and slaps his tip against your tongue a few times before cum starts to spill out into your mouth. once he finishes , his cock goes limp as he tries to catch his breath. he looks down at you and closes your mouth with your jaw. “swallow it.” he demands. his cum is silky and sweet as it slides down your throat. you do as he says , grabbing onto his cock and cleaning up a bit more. you teasingly begin pumping him again. he swats your hands and laughs , plopping down onto the bed bench.

“if we go again i’ll pass out.” jimin says. “but i missed you.” you kiss his jawline , wanting more. he chuckles and smiles , not taking you serious. “i need to rest before we do anything else.” you give him one final peck on the lips before standing up and grabbing a new pair of panties to wear. when you walk back into the room , jimin lays naked in the bed , drifting off to sleep. “did i put you to sleep?” you tease. he smirks. “i did most of the work. i deserve a break” he extends his arm and reaches out for you. you slide into the bed beside him and rest your head on his chest , listening to his breathing as he slowly falls asleep.

written by swanlakebaby™

[the-offside-rule]

Fernando Alonso (McLaren) - Envious

Requested: yes, tumblr via dm

Prompt: Can I please make a request where Fernando is in McLaren. He just won the championship twice and he is seen to be incredibly cocky. Y/n, a TV interviewer does not like this but she does seem fond of Leiws and he gets maddddd. He decides to change for her and please make the ending cute <3 (ITS GONNA BE A TWO PART)

Warnings: cocky Fernando, jealous Fernando

Envious: part 2

Y/n tightened her grip on the microphone, trying to maintain her composure during the interview with the Fernando Alonso. His cocky demeanor had been evident from the beginning, but it seemed to intensify as the questions progressed. They had met back during Fernando's first season in F1 as she was lucky enough to grab an internship. While he at first seemed lovely and polite, his true colours had come when Y/n returned to the paddock the season after Fenrnado won his first championship. He had completely changed. "Do you think you could win the championship a third time, or do you think you've moved past your prime?" Y/n asked, before moving the microphone towards Fernando for him to answer her question.

Fernando flashed a smirk at his interviewer. "Well, you see, I'm just that good, I don't think my prime has even come yet." Y/n clenched her jaw at the first part of his answer. "Of course I think I can win it this year." Y/n rolled her eyes, masking her irritation as best as she could. "Well you have won it twice in an immensely talented grid, I believe you could." Fernando smirked. "Well it's so lovely you agree with me. It seems fairly rare nowadays." He winked. "Thank you for the interview, Fernando. Good luck." She quickly said, her relief palpable. Fernabdo blew her kiss, annoying her as ever. "That's all the media for you today, Fernando. You can-" Fernando stopped listening to his media manager once he heard the unfamiliar sound of Y/n laughing. His head snapped around quickly, only to see his new teammate smiling and laughing with Y/n. She never smiled when she was interviewing him, what made Lewis so special? Their animated conversation and laughter stoked a pang of jealousy in Fernando.

Later on in the evening, Fernando sat in the McLaren hospitality, eating his dinner when he looked out the window to see Lewis and Y/n walking together once again laughing. Lewis stood at the door whilst Y/n simply spoke to him. Fernando looked around to see if there was a camera just on the off-chance that this was for a TV bit, but not a camera was jn sight. Fernando nudged his personal trainer, gaining his attention. "What's the deal with Y/n and Hamilton?" He asked, an edge to his voice. His trainer looked out before responding. "Ive heard they've been going on dates for a few months now. Seems like she's quite taken with him."

Fernando's jaw tightened. "I think so too." Fernando mumbled. His trainer arched a brow at the spaniard. "What?" Fernando shrugged. "Don't tell me you're jealous." Fernando scoffed. "Of course not. It's just-" He paused and nodded towards Lewis. "Him? I'd say she could do better." He laughed, eating a fork full of food. "Whatever puts your mind at ease, Nando." Fernando looked back over to the pair at the door and watched as they hugged. He slapped his fork down on the table and stood up. "Im going to the garage." Fernando announced, marching towards the door. The doors slid open and the cameras began flashing with the sudden departure of Fernando. Y/n didn't even look at him and that only irked him more. He walked straight into his side of the garage and lay against the back wall, looking out onto the pit-lane.

How was he this jealous of Lewis? He was a rookie. And besides, it wasn't like he actually had feelings for Y/n. She was just a journalist. He thought to himself for a moment and closed his eyes in defeat, cursing under his breath. He did like her. Now what?

[daryascurse]

𝙲𝙰𝚅𝙴𝙰𝚃 𝙴𝙼𝙿𝚃𝙾𝚁

── Part IV: Cui Bono Fuerit

“So you knew I would come?” you panted as he stood firm between your bowed knees. “So you thought I would be – what – stupid?” “Services stopped.” Coriolanus’s breath was ragged as he snapped back to you. His thumb brushed your jawline, tilting your head up to meet his searing gaze. “No, I shouldn’t have said stupid. I knew you’d be reckless.”

chapter pov : 2nd person reader, AFAB reader, feminine pronouns ❀ tags: hate sεx, elevator sεx, biting ❀ word count: ~4.4k ❀ ao3 ❀playlist

I have a very strict adult-only interaction policy. Ageless, blank, and clearly minor-run blogs that interact will be blocked. If you have questions about what that means, please read the byf in my pinned post.

See header "Caveat Emptor" link for table of contents/ chapter 1.

“The Hunger Games?”

You squinted at the painter’s tape plastered firmly over the screen, right below your name and beaming holographic portrait, covering the previous assignment. Hollisee Tympan shot a glance at you over the shoulder of his stiff plaid suit as he pressed the corner of the tape down and stepped back.

“Lucky,” hissed the mouth-breathing Elysia Byron. Her salivating was practically audible.

“I thought I would be starting off in the markets,” you said to no one in particular. “Down at the banks. In the financial district.”

Harrier Bulla was over your other shoulder. “You say you’d rather have the financial markets than the Hunger Games?”

You were still staring at the black ink saying the same three words that blubbered out of his mouth.

“It’s gotten huge the last few years,” Elysia Byron said. “Mr. Tympan, would the Games benefit from perhaps one more page from the station?”

“Or two?”

Mr. Tympan blinked wide, watery eyes at their slimy wheedling. “Mr. Bulla, CapiTV is lucky to have the presence of one page to represent the station. The administration is still wary of the security threats and this is the first year they’re even doing a trial run with outside network involvement. And we don’t get a stipend for it, either. If you had been listening during orientation, you might have heard that.”

“Aren’t you in fashion and style, anyway?” asked Harrier. “What could a style page do at the Games?”

Elysia made a huffing sound. “Actually, style would be very important to cover at the Games.”

“What exactly shall I be covering, anyway?” you asked Mr. Tympan cautiously.

Mr. Tympan shot another look at Harrier and Elysia behind you, all but sticking their tongues out childishly at each other. “Well, you’ll receive a formal memorandum shortly. But we’d like you to focus on backstage operations. We don’t have the equipment – or the manpower – ” which was said loudly to cut off Harrier’s mouth as it opened again “ – to even negotiate a CapiTV presence up front with the Flickerman production. And of course they’ll be doing the main interviews, telling the tribute story. But they’re outsourcing to CapiTV to create something for the slower moments when Lucky needs a break. You won’t be behind the camera, but you’ll be supplying our broadcasters with the inspiration and information to fill that time. And the audience will need some breaks from Lucky, too, while still remaining engaged in the Games.”

“Capitol Television. The Capitol’s vision, to you,” Harrier recited the station’s motto with a toadyish excitement. Elysia rolled her eyes and you prided yourself on the ability to resist the same.

“So it’s just glamorized B-roll,” Elysia said snottily.

Mr. Tympan only blinked at her before turning to walk away.

The other pages began to come up to the screens, and when Harrier and Elysia turned to whisper the new development to them, you began your hasty steps after.

“Mr. Tympan – sorry. One more question.”

“You’ll get the memorandum,” he said, looking down at the papers he thumbed through a binder.

“Well – I mean, I’m flattered,” you said, and caught yourself twisting your hands. “But I wanted to ask why I was the one transferred over. I don’t think I indicated any interest in working for the Games in my page application.”

“You didn’t, and that’s why,” Mr. Tympan said. “I trusted even with your lack of interest you paid more attention than Ms. Byron did to the security briefings in orientation. Even with the last bomb threat being two years ago, the Capitol’s priority is safety and discretion. Each year has to bring improvement in all areas. And you’ve proven yourself… capable of such discretion.”

Given his pause, you weren’t sure if it was something you’ve done in the last two weeks of orientation, or something further back that’d earned you such esteem. You narrowed your eyes and looked quickly away. Mr. Tympan wasn’t familiar from the days of moonlighting that had put you through school. You had secure faith in your memory. But the network had many officers…

“I can keep my mouth shut,” you said, but Mr. Tympan was already walking away again.

-

The Hunger Games.

It was an anxious thrill that sprang through you, and you raised a soothing hand to circle your belly automatically. But the Peacekeeper at the door turned his helmet towards you at the movement, so you slipped the identification badge between your fingers and raised the card instead.

“I’m from CapiTV,” you said.

He snapped it from your hand with a force that rubbed the lanyard cord hot and painful at the back of your neck. You forced yourself to remain stoic as he investigated the photograph, the same beaming face on the hologram taken as your thoughts were full of financial news dreams.

“How exciting for you,” he grunted.

“Very. Yes, exciting,” you breathed.

Elysia Byron, Harrier Bulla, and then a third page, Kit Crocum, all left calls attempting in some way to convince you to swap posts. “You wanted finance,” Kit had wailed, convinced somehow that being assigned the banks and markets meant that you had stolen the Games from him as the rightful owner.

“I just don’t think it’s up to me to trade,” was how you deflected them all.

When the Peacekeeper held the heavy steel door open with an instruction to go to the sixth floor, you walked past a portrait of Coriolanus Snow. You looked down at your badge again. Yes, you had wanted to work on financial news. You had also wanted to live on the moon as a child.

Moreover, a lot had happened in the time between filling out the interests sheet in the spring and this early summer morning.

You turned your head at the elevator, and it was like his stern blue eyes could follow you all the way down the corridor. You felt the stare prickle on your skin as the elevator rose. The doors opened and you were rubbing the back of your arm subconsciously.

An Avox led you down sea-green steps. They must have been made of some newly engineered glass that didn’t shatter under your sensible heels, but the material dazzled and shone across the floor like an old-fashioned soda bottle you remembered from history classes. Each step made the sound of a diamond falling, and as you approached the small crowd at the buffet table, hundreds of shuffling shoes made the sound echo again and again like an opulent hailstorm. A space opened as two women in high-buttoned suits swept away from the table, where rich brown drapery flowed under platters of canape and thick slices of meat.

Your mouth watered and you thought of the stale crackers in the CapiTV break room.

“Good afternoon. Good afternoon.”

The woman’s voice was icy and clear, cleaving through the dim chatter of colleagues. You snuck a glance towards the front of the room. Backs and elbows blocked your view, and so you discreetly slid a few biscuit cups filled with whipped egg and topped with some green and orange somethings onto a napkin.

“Welcome, media representatives, to the first stages of the Fourteenth Hunger Games,” the woman’s voice continued.

You could see her now, a woman whose golden hair spiraled silver at her temples and shone in two shades of metallic. Her nose was strong, and her gaze somehow pinched. She leaned into the tall iron microphone, her full lips caged behind the netting.

“I am sorry that Dr. Gaul couldn’t come for one last farewell,” she said without further introduction. And from looking at the knowing glances between the crowd, they recognized her without requiring one. You looked down at the eggs nestled in the napkin cupped in your palm.

Well, they each had to have worked their first Games at some point.

You popped one in your mouth and tasted onion and paprika sinking between your teeth.

“Unfortunately, she’s taken ill in the days following retirement, but we wish her the best and a speedy recovery. Fortunately, she completed transitioning our new Head Gamemaker fully into the position, and he’s been hard at work preparing our new Games to start come July. Everything is on schedule, and we’ll have a briefing sheet to bring back to your –” and she sniffed, before smiling tightly “ – little television studios. And he’s taken time out of his busy day to greet you himself.”

The thin crowd swelled around you a moment with a flurry of questions, and you saw the tips of ten perfectly manicured claws rise in the air.

“No, there will be no chances for an exclusive interview. Not today,” she said firmly. Not ever. “Everyone, Mr. Coriolanus Snow.”

You clenched your hand into a fist. The egg burst, creamy white and crumbled biscuit crumbs surging between your fingers, leaking through the thin veil of napkin.

“Thank you, Ms. Trinket.”

He melted out of the crowd, and you snapped your neck back wildly, as if you could recreate where he had come from. You blinked. Blinked again. The egg was tacky against the sweat beading in your palm. There was no reason to be surprised. His portrait had just been in the hall, after all. You should have known; you did know, from the moment you saw that strip of painter’s tape. But you’d never let yourself actually think it so plainly.

“Anastasia Trinket,” Coriolanus said into the microphone. His smile was dazzling, an errant curl artfully falling over his forehead as he turned that smile to her. He had his hands raised in applause. His fingernails were square and clean.

Everyone was applauding now, and you used the excuse of the mess in your hands to turn behind the crimson-suited man in front of you to drop it to the table. You grabbed a napkin and wiped between your fingers, nervously glancing between Coriolanus and the other members of the press.

He looked right at you and the corners of his lips curled.

“Thank you for coming.”

You found it in you at last to clap along, and you gave a few measured, off-beat smacks.

“Let me repeat Ms. Trinket and welcome you again. The Hunger Games this year promise to be our best yet, and we hope that the press will help bring this event to the eyes of all of Panem. Now, you’ll have to see most of it live as the rest of us, but we have prepared a confidential media briefing for your stations, so that you may begin necessary preparations and preview for the citizens of the Capitol what they may expect.”

Coriolanus reached inside his black silk jacket, and the press around you began to pull tablets or recording devices from their pockets and bags. You cleared your throat and unclipped the microphone card attached to your blouse.

“We are very excited to announce that this year, we have at last achieved the goal of hosting the Games in a new arena,” he said, beginning to glance up from a sheet of paper and innocently flitting his gaze to you, to someone on one side, back to you. Your hand was frozen on the blinking recording light. “While the Second Arena has served us will these past few years, the Fourteenth Hunger Games shall move to a new and improved location.”

“Excuse me, will they still be held in the Capitol?”

Ms. Trinket yanked the mic stand to her mouth. “There will be a short time for questions after the briefing,” she snapped.

“For security reasons,” Coriolanus said, in a manner smooth and cold, “we will not be revealing where the new arena is located. However, rest assured that for this same reason, this arena was not built in the Capitol. Nor will any other. For now that we know it is possible to design, engineer, build, and fully synchronize an arena with Capitol control within a year, each Hunger Game will be held in an entirely new and different arena.”

There was a snap of grumbling behind you. Coriolanus’ lips turned in a sneer once more, and you ground your heel into the glass floor.

“So, we have no direct media access to the Games? No cameras and reporters at the arena?” you called out before being able to stop yourself.

Ms. Trinket’s vein threatened to burst out of her forehead, and you almost believed Coriolanus’ face went a shade paler. You raised your eyebrows, waiting for a response, and licked your lip.

“The arena cameras have been enhanced and received a software update,” Coriolanus said almost too quickly. It made your heartbeat a little more even. “Every studio will receive the same feed as always. And the tributes will still train here, and speak to Mr. Flickerman here. That access is the same, which has always been the only real opportunity for first-hand reporting.”

You tapped your foot and said nothing more. And you heard nothing more, too, thankful for the recording card pinned to your shirt. The strength you had pulled out of yourself to move your tongue burned through to your brain, and you were slowly beginning to feel it turn to belligerent epiphany.

He did this. He did this because you had done it, two weeks ago. The longer you stayed silent, the more that steely shine returned to his eye with each haughty glance at you. Once more he was on stage and you captive in the audience; but this time, he was the tiger prowling beyond the bars and locked the human in.

You crossed your arms at the waist and pressed into yourself.

Could it be that he had pulled the strings, all the way to the news studio?

Of course he could.

Coriolanus rolled up the paper at last, and Ms. Trinket moved forward to announce that questions were now welcome. You fidgeted.

There was a flash of memory, of fidgeting and tightening your thigh muscles at the ministrations that silver tongue of his worked between your legs. You tensed again. It did not alleviate.

“Actually,” Coriolanus interjected, “I apologize, but Ms. Trinket will answer your questions. I unfortunately have last minute business to attend to, with the reaping at the week's end. We of course will send invitations to your stations to Lucky Flickerman’s commentary conference. Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for your time.”

He turned to give her another few claps of applause, and the crowd fell in line. Coriolanus smiled politely and moved into the crowd. A few offered their hands to receive a brief shake; a gentleman attempted to give him a hearty clap on the back, which earned a stiff half-smile in response. His eyes slid over you, triumphantly caged in by the swaying bars of applauding hands all around.

“Excuse me,” you said, nearly turning into the woman on your right as you turned to push to the back of the crowd yourself.

But Coriolanus had taken a different stream, and when you made it to where only Avoxes stood silent at the wall, he was at the foot of those shallow sea-glass stairs. You cast a glance back at the rest of the press and took hurried steps.

“Coryo – ”

It felt wrong to call for him, as soft as it was.

He barely craned his neck back as he pushed the elevator button.

“I’m sorry, perhaps you didn’t hear Anastasia earlier. There won’t be any exclusives through this media program.”

“And did you get me assigned to this program?”

The doors opened and warm orange light spilled out.

“We had to approve the names each studio submitted,” Coriolanus said measuredly. “For security. You understand.”

“I don’t.”

You stepped inside the elevator after him, and held a hand against the frame. Coriolanus looked over your shoulder to the gathering below.

“Though we didn’t review for competence,” he murmured. “You’re missing the questions and answers. It would be a shame for your station to be behind the curve so early in the Games.”

You tilted your head at him and tightened your eyes. “As if she’s going to give away any trade secrets.”

“Trade secrets,” Coriolanus sighed with exaggeration, “are certainly not on the table. Glad to see CapiTV sends their brightest. Well, good day. I really do have things to attend to.”

He moved to reach for the button to urge the doors closed, almost physically puffed up and preening with his own ego. Your fingers curled at the elevator doors and then stepped inside.

“Coriolanus, I don’t know – ”

The doors slid closed, and Coriolanus lunged forward.

“No, you don’t,” he said, seething, and one hand slammed past your head to the wall behind you. The other reached up to your blouse, and before your eyes, ripped the microphone cord clean off the card.

“You certainly don’t,” Coriolanus continued, and now, without any other eyes or ears he could not keep the curl of his lip off his shining teeth. His blue stare was wild. “Clearly you don’t if you’re so stupid to approach me like this today. Again.”

“You invited me here,” you spat.

“Please select a floor,” the elevator’s automatic voice sang.

Coriolanus punched something in the panel, flinging your microphone to the floor. The elevator began to rise.

“Going up.”

“Anyone could have looked up. Any one of those journalists or reporters could have looked back at the elevator just now.”

“I’ll leave,” you said. “Just bring it back down to the lobby.”

Coriolanus huffed. “You know I was trying to do something nice? I saw your plans in the graduation program, and I felt sorry for you. Clearly you aren’t making much of what your degree is worth, taking a job at CapiTV, of all places. Their reporter has been drunk on camera the last two Games, but I thought maybe I’d give you a shot to turn things around, for you, and your career. I thought I’d do you a favor. Maybe the Games would give you a chance to hone some of your, shall we say, more academic talents.”

Bullshit. “Bullshit,” you said, turning your chin up in his face. “It’s because you wanted me to feel how you felt at graduation. That’s why you organized this little briefing for everyone, isn’t it?”

“How I felt?”

“I’m sorry, Coriolanus, if I had the luxury of knowing that I’d be hearing your valedictorian speech. I’m sorry that you hadn’t bothered to recognize your own classmate outside of school. But I thought I apologized for anything I might have done that day.”

And I shouldn’t have.

“How could you know what I felt?” Coriolanus snarled. “You have no idea what I had planned for that day. I had everything planned, this whole summer, and one day – very important day – was enough to throw it all off track.”

“And that’s my fault?” You were almost shrieking with laughter at the absurdity. “I didn’t make you come to the club, and I didn’t make you lick my pussy.”

The words were delicious coming out of your mouth. You grinned, wild, practically spitting in the face of this ringmaster even as you remembered seeing that face so beautifully framed between your thighs.

“You wanted to.”

Coriolanus’s mouth crashed on yours at that, with the familiar taste of anger on his tongue. You could have bitten him. But you kissed him back and chased that taste; clawed at him instead, tugging his neat shirt from his pants to allow your fingernails up his bare back where your touch could rake at his skin. He hissed.

The elevator began to slow.

“Doors,” you gasped, and his arm muscle flexed out to hit another button.

“Services stopped.”

Coriolanus almost slammed you into the wall. He had his fists on your skirt, your neat, smart little black pencil skirt, and he was scrunching it high on your hips. His body was hot against yours, and his wiry strength was a bruising grip on your thigh. Your hands were just as busy, frantically unbuckling his belt, trying to find the space to tug down his zipper.

“Coriolanus,” you gasped.

He was half-mad with rage, with something hungrier and full of desire. Your knee fell open as you were propped on the railing, and you lurched back and clutched wildly at the brass for balance. The careful slick of his hair was breaking free from the gel casing, and Coriolanus breathed heavily, a string of saliva snapping between his parted lips.

“There’s – the – cam-”

“No cameras,” he said in one breath. He leaned forward, and his lips ghosted on the shell of your ear, sending spikes across your skin and down your back. “I turned them off this morning.”

You moaned and felt the threatening rush tremble between your legs again. The pressure in your blood beat faster, harder, with excitement turned anew once more at the stimulus.

“So you knew I would come?” you panted as he stood firm between your bowed knees. “So you thought I would be – what – stupid?”

“Services stopped.”

Coriolanus’s breath was ragged as he snapped back to you. His thumb brushed your jawline, tilting your head up to meet his searing gaze. “No, I shouldn’t have said stupid. I knew you’d be reckless.”

The words hit you sharply, as sharply as the edge of his teeth grazing your throat. You would have laughed if it was still the time for incredulity. And then he was in you, your breath hitching as the weight of his body into your stomach pushed you against the elevator wall with each thrust. You saw the cameras in the corner at last, little black caps carefully snapped over the lens.

The world could be watching, if it had the eyes to look.

“How did you do it?”

Any of it.

His thumb smeared down your cheek, pulling your mouth into the space for a lopsided breath as you gasped out the words.

“Does it matter? I’m Head Gamemaster, aren’t I?”

Coriolanus kissed you again. You let your teeth tug at his lips this time, and the groan from his lungs was intoxicating.

He was tense and throbbing in you, and you had to lean into him, had to use him as a plinth of support in this precarious balance. Your blouse was stuck to your back in an awkward rumple of sweat, and your nipples ached untouched under your bra. His hands had come both to your thighs to pin you there on the railing, keep your hips stilled as he moved in you harder, harder still.

Your ankles have locked together against his against his back. You realized it only when the elevator jolted suddenly, and you gasped sharply, a heel sliding off and slapping to the floor.

“Services stopped.”

It was just the shaking of your bodies, but for a moment, you feared that someone had called for the elevator.

“Oh,” you whispered. You were angry at the thought of someone interrupting, and your teeth chattered at the realization. Chattered more at the stillness of Coriolanus in you that was leaving you full, full, stretched so you could barely manage it. Your hips were just heavy lead under his touch.

Coriolanus sucked his breath in, and you had to meet his eyes that for once matched his in wild fervor. You whimpered a surrender.

“Don’t stop…”

He pushed again and he was fucking you as far as he could go at this curled angle. By now, his hands were all of what kept you to the railing. The desire to squirm away at the weight had left you squirming as best you could. Any last strength you had in your body, nor your brain, had melted away.

It was rough and quick. Your cunt was greedy and you choked on the wail as you felt the desperate convulsing of your inner walls. That was it. Coriolanus was coming too, with each spurt hot and somehow making your legs shake even harder at the delicate sense of it. The elevator creaked faintly.

He was in you still when he lifted his face, those loose blonde curls now plastered to his forehead. With a moan from him and a full shudder from you, he pulled his cock away. Cream spattered onto the carpet. He was still holding you to the railing. Your ankles were still hooked at his thighs. You stayed a few seconds more in this silence with your back pressed to the metal wall.

“Services stopped.”

Coriolanus looked down, and stepped back. His mouth was torn up with your lipstick. He wiped the back of his hand against his face as if he could feel it and looked at the remnants. You slid down and shimmied your skirt back in place.

He swiped at his face a few moments more before sighing loudly and tugging his shirt back into his pants. As you reached down for your abandoned heel, he pushed another button on the elevator panel.

“Going down.”

You saw your microphone, the net of the speaker dented under someone’s errant foot. Coriolanus’s foot, most likely. You clenched it in your palm as you straightened again.

“You didn’t do this to help me,” you said slowly. “You wanted me to come to you. To show me what you can control.”

Coriolanus turned away from you, combing his blonde hair back with his fingers. “I don’t need to control you,” he said.

“But you do, don’t you? You want what you paid for. But the transactions are done.”

He scoffed. A lesser-mannered man would have spit on the ground after that sound. “So you want more money.”

“No. No, I mean it. I don’t want your money, I don’t need it. I never had.”

“That’s a lie,” Coriolanus said haughtily. You ground your teeth.

He was, unfortunately right. You had been too wild in your speech to catch it.

“So tell me,” Coriolanus continued, turning back to you, “what’s going to happen now? Will you quit, now that you see which pockets your salary truly comes from?”

His hands came around your head and locked you where you stood. He pressed his forehead to yours. You could taste his breath on the air as his pupils narrowed.

“What’s more important to you, little CapiTV page? Your career, or keeping your hands clean of me?”

Your thighs shook. You stared at his lips. You remembered every touch of them vividly. As if Coriolanus could feel where your eyes burned, he slipped into a low grin. The canines showed.

Part V: TBC

[nats-revival]

𝙚𝙡 𝙦𝙪𝙚 𝙣𝙤 𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙨𝙜𝙖, 𝙣𝙤 𝙜𝙖𝙣𝙖 | 𝙚. 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙖𝙢𝙨

pairing: ex-jailbird!ellie williams x ex-jailbird!afab!reader

tags: angsty, ellie is an asshole, between past and present (indicated with dates), ellie has issues, pet names (baby), description of violence, mild language, drug use, one use of y/n (i had to im SAWREE!!), idk what trope this is, but it’s certainly something, good ending, but i HATE it ugh, lowk wanna make an alt ending, but i might not. 🤷🏽‍♀️

a/n: the word ‘jailbird’ being used in this context is lowk cringey but who cares? ive been on a roll lately!!! (i still have reqs to finish) ellie fic speed run r smth idk. tbf, this is the longest fic ive written in a while. i considered making this like a series or something but i never finish those so.. ig this is like a rlly big fat oneshot??? idk.

p.s: for my pookie @sweetysaccharine who also got a sneak peek hehe. 🤭🤭

𝚕𝚘𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚞𝚗𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚗 | 𝙹𝚞𝚗𝚎 𝟷𝟽𝚝𝚑, 𝟸𝟶𝟸𝟷

you stand infront of a burning car on a hill in the middle of the desert at nighttime. you and ellie had just stolen $20 thousand worth of diamonds at some high end store in the city where only the most wealthy of people live, and now you were destroying the evidence, burning your costumes and leaving the diamonds out for the coyotes. “ellie, i won’t wanna do this anymore.” she looks at you through the blazing fire with a slightly raised eyebrow. “do.. what?” she asks as she pushes her hands into her pockets. “commit crimes. i want to have a normal life. im tired of this. you’re always making me do crazy shit.” you explain, exaggerating a bit with your hands. “were felons, baby. there is no normal for us. you chose this life. but sure. let’s say hypothetically, you get this ‘normal life’. where will you work? at a grocery store?” “i don’t know.” “exactly. that’s the beauty of it all. we don’t know what comes next. we don’t know if the police will come after us again, do we?” “well.. no—“ “exactly. go out and buy some more fruit.” she begins walking off, leaving the burning car behind. “we don’t need anything else, ive already got what we need.” you say as you begin walking off into the opposite direction. sand crunches underneath your feet as you walk off, hood over your head and the nights cool wind brushing against the bits of exposed skin on your body.

𝙰𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗, 𝚃𝚇 | 𝙼𝚊𝚢 𝟾𝚝𝚑, 𝟸𝟶𝟷𝟽 what were the odds of two felons who hate each others guts working together after escaping together? highly unlikely. but it was your reality. let’s start from the beginning, shall we? ellie had gotten.. waaay too many years to even count. she was charged with identity theft, armed assault, two counts of homicide, and possession of illegal firearms. what were you charged with? accessory to a robbery, armed robbery and you’d also had a few DUI’s. was how many years you’d gotten even mattered now? it didn’t. you were free. and freedom smelled great. but sometimes? freedom sucks. ellie was crazy. she was batshit crazy. she was the one who helped you escape prison. she knows a lot of people. like, a scary amount of people. lawyers, drug dealers, private doctors, the whole nine yards. how’d you escape? simple.

“the other girls are gonna start a riot. cause i told em to. you’re gonna sneak into the break room. there’s a window a few inches up from the floor. break the window and—“ she explained, making sure to keep her voice down. you were a bit wary of her little ‘plan’. “wait, won’t that set the alarm off?” you ask with a raised eyebrow. “lemme ask you a question. whats more worth it — freedom or a goddamn alarm?” “.. im guessing you want me to say freedom?” she nods, then patting your shoulder approvingly. “back to what i was saying, after you’ve broken the window, there’s someone waiting for you on the other side. the security cameras should be busted by then. ill follow you.” her confidence in her plans certainly amazed you. “don’t screw this up.” “i won’t.” “good. now.. why don’t you go read a book?” she suggested before walking off. she was strange, like really strange. sometimes ellie tended to say things that didn’t really make any sense. it was also a rumour that ellie had hallucinations. she’d just sit up in the middle of the night and talk to.. nobody, or she’d stare into the mirror talking to seemingly nobody. was that maybe why she’d been so crazy? because she was fighting her own demons? you didn’t know. the riot began. you heard them in the lunch room banging their trays against the metal tables, yelling at the prison guards and attacking some. you run away into the break room. there were metal bars against the windows. “how the hell am i gonna remove this?” you mumble to yourself as you look around. you search under tables like a madwoman, even searching the pockets of the coats suspended from the metal coat rack.

you heard angels sing once you find a toolbox hidden away underneath a bench. you look at the screws. you needed a flat looking screwdriver. you search the toolbox for one that loosely resembles the screws and you hurry to the window with a chair. standing on the chair, you quickly unscrew the screws and you pull the bars from the window. with the metal bars in hand, you smash the window, all the little glass pieces flying everywhere as the prison alarms go off simultaneously. you look back at the door to the break room. ellie would come, she valued her freedom more than anything in this world.

and with all the uncertainty in your body, you followed through. you jumped down into the parking lot while the alarms ring all throughout the prison. there had been someone else on the other side. a woman with curly hair and tan skin, driving some beat up blue honda. she was pretty. “cmon, hurry and get in. we’re gonna floor it as soon as ellie gets here.” she said, relatively calm as if she’d done this before. you hop into the backseat of her car anxiously. your leg shakes and you bite your nails. looking around at the security cameras, you found that they were, in fact not busted. “that goddamn liar!” she exclaimed as you hit your hands against your thighs. “you’re an idiot for trusting her. ellie never holds her word. she said she’d pay me back a year ago. she owes me $14,000 that she still won’t pay back.” the woman says as she looks at you through the mirror above her. you didn’t trust her. nobody did. but she was a good convincing person and an even better liar. while you were sitting in the back of the car, you recalled all the times she’d attempted to kill you. she gave you concussions, she stabbed you with makeshift knives, she got her minions to beat you half to death. what had you done in retaliation? well, you stabbed her, hung her from a bathroom stall with your sheets, wounded her badly and proceeded to shoot air into the major vein until her heart almost exploded out of her chest. the two have you had gone tit for tat for a while. but is it really an appropriate time to reminisce on old memories? not at all.

the sound of her shoes hitting the ground caught your attention. you look over and see her running towards the car, hopping in her front seat and slamming the door shut. “cmon, drive dina! step on it!” she demanded as she hits her hands against the dashboard. the woman, dina, steps on the gas. the gates of the prison had been closing slowly, leaving just enough room for the car to slither out. ellie cheers to herself. why was she cheering? ellie suddenly turns to you. “we have to get out of texas. dina here is gonna take us halfway to.. somewhere. ive already arranged a place for us to stay. if you screw up? ill strangle you with the hem of your shirt.” her tone falters between the lines of something serious and something a little playful. what was this? why were you doing this with her? you’d been royally screwed now if you weren’t before.

𝙰𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗, 𝚃𝚇 | 𝙼𝚊𝚢 𝟾𝚝𝚑, 𝟸𝟶𝟷𝟽

you drove for hours on end while ellie sat in the front, blabbering about seemingly nothing. she sat in the front, smoking weed and changing the radio station until she settled on some sorta rock station. “ellie, do you realize how much you owe to me?” dina asks seriously as she takes the two of you through some sort of desert. “mm.. how much?” “14k. you owe me big time, ellie.” ellie laughs. she turns to you, whites of her eyes turning a light red colour. “can you believe her? me? owing her 14k? that’s insane.” she sat there laughing to herself. dinas iron clad grip on the steering wheel told you what you needed to know. she was fed up with ellies shit.

dina stops the car abruptly on the side of the sandy road. she turns to ellie with a face full of fury. “yknow, ive offered you enough. i said you can pay in installments. you didn’t pay. i gave you time. you still won’t pay. now im being complicit in your fucking prison break!” dina exclaimed. ellies laughing almost instantly stopped as dina raised her voice. “you don’t seem to understand how this works. i don’t owe anyone anything. the way ive paid you back was giving you a good fuck like you asked.” “ellie, i was as high as a kite when i said that! jesus christ, you really don’t listen do you?” you don’t intervene even though ellie is looking for you to do so. something you learned was to never fight battles that weren’t yours. this was between them.

they argued. a lot. going back and forth while ellie took super long drags of the joint between her fingers. dinas car reeks of the smell of weed. ellie wouldn’t take anything seriously until dina raises her hand to smack the daylights out of her. a ringing sound resonates throughout ellies ears as she looks at dina in shock. “why the fuck would you slap me?” “i.. i don’t know.” dina was shocked and you were equally as shocked. ellie opens the car door and she gets out. “get out the car.” she says to you, opening your door. “what, but we’re in the middle of the—“ “get out the fucking car!” ellie yells. you get out. “thanks for nothing. don’t call me again when your boyfriend can’t make you cum!” ellie yells at dina, flipping her off before grabbing you by the wrist and dragging you off into the sunset. you look back at dina and you see her with a look of shock on her face. as if now she regrets what she’d done.

𝚕𝚘𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚞𝚗𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚗 | 𝙹𝚞𝚗𝚎 𝟷𝟾𝚝𝚑, 𝟸𝟶𝟸𝟷 after that day, dina hadn’t come around anymore. maybe because she was under investigation for helping you and ellie escape prison. you and ellie lived in a rv and it was pretty peaceful. she chilled on trying to kill you for a while. you sat outside in a beach chair, looking at the sunrise with a cup of tea.

she joins you, sitting in the chair right next to yours. she was smoking a cigarette. “i wanna do something with you. before that ‘normal life’ you want.” she said as she looked at you. “one last heist.” she exhales the smoke, the smell of tobacco entering your nose. “a heist? ellie, you know we can’t do that anymore. the police have our photos.. and fingerprints.” “they’ve had our photos and prints since 2017, baby.” those goddamn pet names that rolled off of her tongue made you a little weak in the knees. you hated her but you couldn’t hate her voice. “ellie, this isn’t a good idea. we need to think about this. the last time you tried to pull off a heist, you almost got arrested.” you tried to be the voice of reason in this ‘relationship’ (or lack therefore of.) “i hate doing this, ellie. i want a normal life. i wanna go home.” your voice was sad. “and what happens if you go back home? your parents will be happy to see you, naturally. someone could betray you. your mother, your brother. anyone.” her words hang in the air as she looks at you. she puts her cigarette out in the makeshift ashtray that sat on a small wooden table. “what do i always tell you?” you thought about it for a moment. ellie had lots of weird sayings. so you take a guess. “hate is the worlds strongest motivator?” she nods her head. “and what else?” “the person who doesn’t risk, cannot win? but quick question— what does that have to do with anything?” she gets up and she stands in front of you. she squats down to your eye level.

“you’re either one of two things in life. a fox or a rabbit. the fox will hunt the rabbit and won’t back down till it gets what it wants. the rabbit will run for its life so the fox doesn’t let the fox get it. who would you wanna be in life?” ellie had a strange way of looking at life. maybe when you’ve been locked up for so long, attempted to escape so many times and had some mental issues, your outlook on life changes drastically. her analogies always made you wonder how she’d even been able to look at life this way. when you don’t answer her question, she answers for you. “a fox. you wanna be a fox. right now? you’re being a rabbit. tighten the fuck up.” her hands give your thighs a few slaps as she spoke. they were a bit hard but not hard enough to leave marks. after your little talk, she goes back into the rv.

you’re sat there with a racing mind and a swell of emotions. the once warm tea had gone cold. whatever she’d been planning to do on this heist must’ve boosted her head up enough to the point where she could go around, telling people to tighten the fuck up. you resented her heavily. ellie wasn’t a hard person to hate. well, maybe a better word is loathe. she was a terrible person with no moral compass. she didn’t care about anyone else but herself. and maybe she’d been going through things on her own, but she had multiple options to get help. she lived knowing that she’d survive, and only would be at the top of the food chain. as if.

𝚕𝚘𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚞𝚗𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚗 | 𝙹𝚞𝚗𝚎 𝟷𝟾𝚝𝚑, 𝟸𝟶𝟸𝟷

ellie still wanted your help. she tried everything to convince you. a share of her earnings. a 60/40 share (you having 60%, leaving the other 40% to her.) but you don’t budge. she needed to think, her brain wasn’t functioning well at finding a different approach. maybe she could just let you go with that ‘normal life’ you’ve always wanted. but this wasn’t something she could just easily do alone. it was much bigger than that. and she also couldn’t threaten you cause then you’d definitely run away. ellie couldn’t remember the last time she’d been kind to someone. she’d been met with a harsh response to anything she’d ever done in life, so she projected her issues onto other people. maybe it wasn’t the best coping mechanism, but she felt like she had nothing to lose.

she approaches you slowly. “we should talk.” she mumbled. “about.. what?” you ask. “the heist.” “ellie, no—“ “just hear me out please.” she takes a breath before she starts talking. “i swear we won’t get caught. and if we do miraculously, ill take the blame. you can say i kidnapped you or something.” “why are you do adamant about doing this? do you even have a reason?” ellie slowly shakes her head. she sits next to you. her hands fall in her lap as she twiddled with her fingers. “yknow, i don’t really know. i just get these urges to do these things that don’t really make sense.” her tone was genuine, but you werent sure. ellie had a tendency to guilt trip you into doing things that you really didn’t wanna do all because you were the only person she had left and nobody else would do this for her. of course you knew what she was going through, albeit you didn’t understand on a personal level as she had because she was living with this everyday.

you saw all her pill bottles — some SSRI’s, something for her hallucinations, and some other stuff with scratched off labels. “ellie, i really hope you’re not trying to guilt trip me into doing this heist with you.” a part of you was fed up with her shit, just like dina had been. but another part of you wanted to be there for her (even though she didn’t open up), and you also like liked her a little. not too much. “of course this isn’t me guilt tripping you. in fact, you don’t even have to worry about it.” she turns to you and she smiles. it felt weird seeing her smile. with all that serotonin she got from the SSRI’s, she didn’t really ever smile. you didn’t put too much thought into it. you just hoped she wouldn’t do anything impulsive.

𝚕𝚘𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚞𝚗𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚗 | 𝙹𝚞𝚗𝚎 𝟷𝟿𝚝𝚑, 𝟸𝟶𝟸𝟷

ellie was up early the next morning. it was six something. she was pacing around outside while she was biting her nails. she was nervous or anxious about something. sometimes you wished you you’d be in ellies brain when she was being like this or being way too brief with her explanations when there was clearly something up with her.

what was she thinking about now? well, you. she was thinking about you. how long you’d put up with her, how long you’d live. stuff like that. there’s only one certainty in life — death. everyone inevitably dies one day even though they may not wanna. ellie planned on dying on her own terms. something else ellie thinks about often was her life before all this. she couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen her dad. she missed him. she also missed dina. ellie had dated a few people in the past, some girl named cat and dina. they didn’t end up really working out together because of ellies impulsive nature, but they stayed friends until.. the incident when dina slapped ellie.

in her own way, ellie wanted her old life back as did you. she wanted to wake up to the smell of joels coffee and dinas sleeping form in her bed, all that pretty curly hair sprawled over her pillow. but she knew what she was doing when she made this decision. she knew what she was doing when she decided to steal the identity of some rich lawyer so she could withdrawal all their money for herself. she knew what she was doing when she’d went to that very same lawyers office with an unregistered pistol, robbing them and leaving them with practically nothing. this couldn’t have happened coincidentally. she wanted her old brain back. the one that didn’t have violent and impulsive thoughts. the one that didn’t keep replaying her heinous crimes.

“you’re a mess.” ellie looks up. she sees herself wearing her prison uniform. her hair was much longer then (she’d cut most of it off.) “don’t tell me that. you’re a mess too.” she says to herself. “you want this heist so bad, then do it yourself. it’s nothing you can’t handle.” the split image of ellie was pushing her hands into her pockets and looking at the trees around her. “what’s stopping you?” “you know the answer to that question.” “i don’t. tell me ellie, what’s stopping you?” “y/n.”

as she says that, she hears your footfall behind her. she looks back at you and then back to where the other copy of herself had been. the other ellie was gone. you approach her slowly. “who were you talking to?” you ask, offering her a glass of orange juice that you’d made. “nobody. and uh, the heist.. it’s off.” she muttered as she takes a sip of the orange juice, quenching a thirst she didn’t know she had. “oh, well, that’s good.” you nod in approval. “im sorry.” ellie said it loud enough for your ears only. “i fucked up big time. i know i did. im sorry for putting you through this. im so sorry.” ellie almost never apologized for anything. your face flashes with multiple emotions at once, not sure which one you should feel right now. “it’s.. okay. it’s gonna take me some time to forgive you, but id like to try.” ellie turns to you once you finish speaking and she gives you a firm pat on the shoulder before heading towards the rv.

you felt yourself smiling a bit. you always knew she could do it. you just had to wait for her.

[seerofmike]

Mike's Media Medley--November 2024

here's the second to last one of these this year before i do what i watched/played in dec post and then a post of my top 7 games and movies for the whole year :p got a little more proactive this month since i had some free time due to thanksgiving break so let's get started!

things i watched or played for the very first time this november--

Movies/Shows(2024 releases)--Wicked, Arcane season 2

Movies (non-2024 releases)--Run Lola Run (1998), Shaun of the Dead (2004)

Games-- Long Live the Queen (2013), Darkwood (2014), Hexcraft: Harlequin Fair (2021), Papa's Pizzeria Deluxe and Crime Scene Cleaner (2024),

Movies / Shows:

Arcane season 2

okay so i actually have a fair bit to say about arcane season 2 so i think i will save that for its own post but i didn't like it as much as season 1. im gonna give it like a 77.5/100. season 1 would've been a 90/100.

Run Lola Run (1998)

this is another movie i meant to see for its anniversary re-release and took a while to get around to but GOD this movie was weird and i really liked it i LOVE absurdism. the soundtrack was banging and there were just really interesting directorial choices here. it reminded me a lot of Good Time and i feel like i can almost trace a line between the two in terms of influence.

i think she should've broken up with her stupid boyfriend who looks a shocking amount like theo james tho

greatly enjoyed it. might rewatch it.

85/100

Shaun of the Dead (2004)

i meant to watch this on halloween but then I Forgor so it got rolled over into november. i thought it was pretty funny but i struggle to remember too much of it. it was written and directed by edgar wright so you know there was a lot of clever shit going on but also there were just some moments i remember making me go :/ but i dont entirely remember what. i think the movie really started losing me by the third act but i had a fun time watching it

70/100

Wicked

ok yeah it was pretty good

i wasn't really expecting to like this cuz i am just. NOT a musical person. like i liked hamilton but only because it wasn't like most other musicals and also ive literally never listened to all of hamilton LMFAO so i'm just not a musical person. that being said this WHOLE movie was really fun and i've seen it like 3 times

the set pieces (lots of real sets, and not cgi!) were beautiful and the character performances were all fun. ariana was like. surprisingly hilarious??? like i DID watch victorious growing up but i don't remember much so maybe i shouldn't be surprised. and cynthia put her whole fucking pussy into singing this thing

my only gripes are, based on what i've heard about the second half of the musical i wonder how they're gonna handle elphaba's sister + munchkin guy because i feel like they didn't do much here but that's a future problem for a future movie. and secondly i thought the. actual like. shooting of the movie was very bland considering its subject matter. like the camera is energetic ENOUGH for the musical scenes but i feel like it could be going crazier and don't even get me started on the LIGHTING of this thing but other than that. this was fun and i have a lot of the songs stuck in my head!

90/100

bideo games

Crime Scene Cleaner (2024)

haven't played a whole lot of this but it does scratch the same itch for me as like house flipper. i do have to be in the mood for those types of games though. this one has the addition of an incredibly awkward english translation so that's nice. i like the music stuff that's neat

Darkwood (2014)

ok so i played this for like 2 hours at a friend's and i was really trying to enjoy the Vibes but the inventory management stuff just like. kind of made it a slog. so i quit sawi

Hexcraft: Harlequin Fair (2021)

im gonna be honest i have no idea whats going on here i think its kind of just like. a Vibes and Atmosphere game. and i get what its going for as like this old school mmo type of things i think. i am enjoying it im just also stupid and dont get it yet. shout out to the estrogen pills filling up my inventory tho

Long Live the Queen (2013)

dog they got me doing spreadsheets. they got me writing stuff down with a pen and paper doing math. it's like disco elysium but instead of solving a murder you're trying to survive until your coronation and every roll of the die CAN kill you for ridiculous reasons what do you mean i need to invest in my decoration skills to beat the evil wizard fuck you im obsessed

Papa's Pizzeria Deluxe (2024)

ive never actually played pizzeria before! i appreciate that it's way more difficult than papa's freezeria but im gonna be honest some of these people need to be in jail for their pizza orders

[j-crow]

how've you been lately dawg 🤔🤔

in the trenches /j

yapping you didnt ask for incoming:

surprising from what you might think of me but ive been really good lately!!

i love the retj fandom but that shit got so miserable and overwhelming and convoluted that i just. gave up on trying to go back. im much happier staying off discord :D

actually i needed a reason to rant about this but oh my god??? i literally NEVER used to be that upset all the time pre-retj discord server. like the version of me in your head is probably SO inaccurate to how i actually am because i am NEVER that upset all the time

like yeah i get really upset sometimes but when i had discord??? WHY WAS I SO SUICIDAL?????

so the conclusion that ive come up with is that discord literally gave me mental illnesses and like. yeah that makes sense actually 😭😭

besides that ive been good besides the constant appearance of a wlw situationship in my life 😞😞

also dont if you ever noticed but i had a crush on your ex 💀💀 (tbf there were some EXTREMELY mixed signals imo) we’re not talking anymore tho

uhhh ive gotten new interests (house md my beloved <33 stupid fucking gay doctors) and read a terrifying amount of fanfiction (probably over 100 fics read the past 2 months not including the 100k+ one im reading rn???? dont bully me pls i know im chronically online 💔💔)

ive been trying to draw more as well but i suck ass at human anatomy and have ultimately decided to just draw animals for the rest of my life atp

also ive been playing the new pokemon tcg game and my entire coding class is literally obsessed with it 😭😭 (me flexing)

also been playing pokerogue!! its fun but i get unreasonably angry when my pokemon die 😭😭

ANYWAYS HOUSE MD!!!!!!!! medical malpractice show 10/10 would recommend watching‼️‼️ ive gotten so many spoilers because my short attention span cant handle more than two episodes a day and im stuck on season one 😭😭

WILSON!!!!!! my definitely gay husband who looks way too fondly at his best friend of ten years to be straight and has had three divorces (canon btw) exploding him with my mind 💥💥💥💥💥💥💥

still obsessed with birds as you might be able to tell 😭😭 blog name actually comes from a piece of art your ex gave to me (gatekeeping sorry) it said “the c in jc stands for crow” and i ran with it

thats u btw /j (thats an australasian swamphen chick also known as a pukeko chick!!! look them up theyre terrifying)

personally one of my favorite photos of them

anyways i still like hamilton and epic the musical surprisingly and i think i can almost recite the entirety of nonstop and the room where it happens (so impressive i know)

and retj my beloved and beloathed </33 so terribly detrimental for my health but im glad i went through that shit tbh

also crazy that its almost christmas??? its christmas eve wtf i forgot

im also working on a 3d animation project with some friends!!! its due sometime in february and im praying i get into nationals for the competition 🙏🙏 i have a backup if the animation fails horribly but my friends dont so!!!! gotta work hard so we all can go to florida and do some tomfoolery

thats about it i think???? unless you want to hear about my school life for whatever reason (im happy to yap about coding but dont ask me about anything else 😭😭)

hope you’ve been well dude!! :D

found this deep in my camera roll 😭😭

[edupunkn00b]

Meus ex Machina, Chapter 12: Working Out

Edited public domain image of two hands reaching for each other, lit in deep blue and neon green.

Prev - Working Out - Next - Masterpost - [ AO3 ]

Logan is determined not to slow down the team again. It wouldn't be the first time he'd pushed his body to the limit.

Logan slipped through the locker room door just before it clanked shut, closing in three dozen or so students in the musky, humid air. "Watch it!" he warned a knot of augmented juniors as they chased past, jostling his safety glasses. His cry went unnoticed over their excited laughter.

He sidled close to the only other full Traditional he could spot, a tall, muscular sophomore. The boy may not have been born with Powers, but he’d certainly clutched a winning genetics lottery ticket on his way into the world.

“Hey, Lo, check it out!” Andrei cheered, lifting his shirt to reveal a translucent implant above his right hip. “Look what my parents got me for my birthday!” Nodding, Logan watched the lights flicker, micro-adjusting his hormone and electrolyte levels. “No more charley horses for me, huh?”

“Indeed,” he murmured. No more leg cramps, no more muscle fatigue. And with a daily boost of somatropin, he’d grow at least another foot and a half before he graduated. “Congratulations.” Logan forced a smile, adjusting his now-fogged eyeglasses. “You will certainly—”

“Alright boys, listen up!” The wrestling coach stepped up onto a nearby bench and whistled. Two freshmen with new hearing augments winced and covered their ears. He waited for the din to lessen and tapped his wrist, activating the ceiling's vid projector. Thanks to Title IV of the Powerds Integration Act, blah blah blah,” he rolled his eyes and two of the older Powerds glared at him. “We’re down to one boy’s team this year with space for five Traditionals.”

Five? Logan's stomach dropped to his feet. There had been fifteen Traditionals in last year’s team plus four alternates. He scanned the room as the coach called out the new team’s roster. Jake and Kirthi high fived behind the coach, reaching nearly his height now with the summer’s growth injections taking effect. Ben stood in the corner, dark shades covering new eyes.

Logan's mouth went dry when he realized he was the last of the Traditionals team who hadn’t yet been augmented. Tim wasn’t there, of course, though Logan saw him from time to time between classes, slouched in his motorized chair, waiting for the school’s singular elevator.

“And… Sanders,” the coach finished. Thirty four sets of eyes whipped over to him and Logan tried to stand a little taller. And tried to ignore the other student’s murmurs.

“It’ll be a good year, Coach,” he said.

Coach Roberts nodded, eyes fixed at a spot just above his head. “Suit up, boys. I want you all out and sparring in pairs in five.” 

Logan kept his eyes trained down and focused on his own preparations as the locker room exploded in activity. Laughter and slamming doors rattled his teeth, the usual scramble to shed street clothes and don stretchy singlets—or, in the case of several boys, trade in for the next size up—no longer lending him its usual energizing buzz.

The day wasn't finished with him yet. With an odd number of Traditionals on the team, it was a simple matter of the math not mathing to require a Traditional to that be paired with a Powered.

Coach Roberts patted Logan’s shoulder as he stepped up to his side of the mat. “Look, Sanders, do your best out there. No-one expects much more than that from you.”

Logan looked up into Coach Robert’s camera-ringed irises. “Y—yes, Coach,” he nodded and turned to face his opponent. The coach had at least tried to give him a chance, matching Logan with a Powered in the same weight class.

But how much did weight class really matter when your opponent’s muscles powered a skeleton stronger than titanium? When your opponent could sense your thoughts, predicting your every move?

He managed to stay on his feet for the first round. Until, at least, his sparring partner grew bored and stopped tamping down on his other abilities. In seconds, Logan was down, face jammed into the mat. He struggled but his opponent countered each twist, each desperate attempt to break free. Finally, Logan tapped out.

The Powered—a new student Logan hadn’t even learned his name—loomed over him. “Good job.” He tonelessly repeated the team’s end of match phrase and looked around for his next partner.

Logan pushed up to his feet and wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand and shook his head. “Best two out of three.”

~

“Time?” Logan panted, controller shaking in his grip as he brought the mech's hands together in the ready signal. He’d boosted the suit’s stabilizers, so from the outside, at least, his durasteel arms moved smoothly. But Logan knew. 

“219.8 seconds. Better,” V smiled encouragingly but the flatness in his tone and the twitch in his eyebrow said it all. Logan still took entirely too long to properly suit up. 

He deflated, leaned to one side in the mech’s cavity. Logan pulled in a shaking breath, fighting to slow his panting, and nodded. “Indeed. Better.” Better but not enough.

"Get your bearings and we’ll go again,” V suggested, still smiling as he passed him a towel. It was only then Logan noticed he was drenched, sweat dripping from his hair and soaking through his shirt.

Logan smiled his thanks—tried to, at least, and V nodded again, a bottle of electrolyte ready. His smile grew, just a bit. He hadn't yet exhausted V's patience. Logan would keep going for as long as he was willing to help him.

V looked up when Patton approached from the kitchen, hugging a large crate to his burly chest. The scents of strawberries and fresh bread and chocolate chip cookies intermingled in the air as he stopped. He shifted the box to one arm to wave at them. “I’m headed, ah…” He waggled his head vaguely toward the hall and Logan’s brow furrowed before understanding struck.

“Is he…” V frowned and swiped across his tablet, searching. Trying not to be obvious, Logan peeked over his shoulder and caught a glimpse of The Muse’s hallway on the screen.

“No, he—nothing’s wrong. Just…” Patton shrugged and looked down at the crate. “After yesterday, I…”

Hesper’s cryptic words from last night filled Logan’s mind. “What makes you think I didn’t trigger your alarms so I could have a little company… just like Re used to?”

“Can I help?” Logan blurted out before looking down at his useless half a hand, his broken body. His face burned, stomach knotted in shame at his utter uselessness.

Patton’s smile was gentle. “Um, that’s okay, Kiddo. I got this.” He didn’t bother to ask how precisely Logan thought he could help in a room he couldn’t reach in his mech. In a room he couldn’t even enter without assistance. Still holding the giant crate of food with one arm, he gently squeezed Logan’s—not the mech’s—shoulder. “But thanks. I’ll let you both get back to your drills.”

He gave them another little wave then headed down the hall. Listening to the elevator door open then swish closed, Logan finished his drink and passed V the empty bottle.

“Ready?” he asked, switching back to his timer.

“Yes.” Logan lowered the mech to a crouch and began to climb out. But Patton's arrival broke the dam on the flood of questions from last night. In his distraction, he nearly fell out of the cavity. “Well… wait.” He met V’s questioning glance. “What did Hesper mean… about The Prince as a little boy? Did he… Did Hesper know him back then?” V scowled down at his tablet but Logan pushed on. “Is that why he called The Muse, ‘Re?’”

Tapping at the screen, V started to speak, then his jaw clamped shut. He let out a slow breath before looking back at Logan. “It’s not really my story to tell. I…” He sighed again. 

For a moment, Logan feared V would try sending him to The Prince with his questions. “Yeah,” V said at last. “Yeah, there’s… there’s a history. You…” V winced and wouldn’t quite meet his eyes. “Maybe ask Silvertongue… um… later, though.” He nodded like it was obvious why he should wait. “You know?”

Was there more to Silvertongue’s outburst last night, too? “I’ll wait,” he promised. “Thank—thank you.” 

“Yeah.” V blew out a short breath and returned his attention to the tablet. “Ready for another go?”

Logan dropped the last foot or so, hitting the ground with a barely muffled groan. He climbed up into his chair, replicating his starting point. “I’m ready,” he said, looking up at the suit.

V stared at him for a long moment. “You know, maybe…” He looked away when Logan tried to meet his eyes, tugging at his sleeves.

“Maybe what?” Logan prompted, bracing himself for what passed for yet another bit of ‘constructive’ criticism.

“Maybe you just need to work on your strength a bit,” he said with a little shrug. “If you want, I could show you how to modify a couple of the machines in the fitness center to—”

“Show me.”

That was how Logan ended up strapped to the pull-up machine in the team’s fitness center, the bright automated trainer chirping out his reps into a sweat-proof earpiece. “And twenty. Good job! You’ve finished your workout—”

“Again!” Logan snapped, tugging at the bar as the platform lowered him to the floor.

“You have completed your recommended three sets of twenty, Logan,” the interface chirped back. Though its tone never changed, Logan couldn’t help but flinch at the sound of his own name. Constructed from heavily modded tech ‘borrowed’ from Abracadabra, the interface sounded just like the old assignment program back at the distribution center. 

“I don’t care. Again!” He batted at the controls with the end of his left stump but the panel went dark.

“I am unable to comply with your request.” The artificial voice switched over to the main speakers when it ended his session, like it wanted a witness. “Please try again tomorrow.”

“You’re better off arguing with the refridgerator, Tin Man,” the Prince chuckled from the corner.

“How long have you been watching me?” Logan snapped, face warm. While the automated trainer didn’t record his strained grunts during his workout, the Prince was the absolute last person he’d want to hear him struggling to do a simple pull-up.

The Prince lifted a barbell packed with 300 pounds on either side. The weight floated up to his chin, before he raised it up above his head and back down to the floor in one perfect, flowing motion.

The weights didn’t even clank when they touched the mat.

“Long enough to see you max out your reps,” he said, barely pausing for his own weight routine. “Hit the showers or something.”

“I’m not done,” Logan muttered, pushing himself off the platform. Fatigued muscles trembling under the strain, he dropped faster than he’d planned, landing with a pained grunt as his hip grazed the base of the pull up machine. 

“Don’t tell me it’s leg day for you.”

“Oh, ha, ha,” Logan muttered, hiding his face until he could control the shameful quiver in his chin. “With wit like that, it’s little wonder you’re the brains of the team. Oh, no, wait—You’re not.”

The Prince shrugged and spared him any further conversation, instead loading on another 100 pound plate to each side of his dumbbell. Shaking his head, Logan pulled himself into his chair and moved to the far corner of the fitness room, keeping as many weight machines between him and The Prince as he could.

When he’d found a suitable place, he lowered himself to the floor again, taking it slowly this time. Laying flat on his back with his chair in front of him, he wedged his thighs between the front and back wheels, bracing his lower body for crunches.

It worked well. For a while, at least. To remain steady, Logan had to tighten his abductors with each crunch, pushing against the wheels to keep them—and himself—from rocking with the movement.

He pushed on, the chair straining against its emergency brakes with each rep. Finally, the brake snapped free and the chair flipped back.

“Fuck.” Logan pounded his fist and the back of his head against the mat and lay back, eyes closed, as he gathered the strength to push the chair upright. With any luck, the Prince had already finished his strongman routine and left the gym.

Logan was not a lucky man.

“Need a hand?”

Logan glared up at him from the floor.

“Oh, shit, yeah…” He shuffled closer, ears tinged pink as he avoided looking at Logan’s stump. “I—I didn’t mean that one. I swear.” He gestured at the overturned wheelchair. “Can I help?”

“I’ve got it,” Logan muttered, pushing up and wiggling closer to the chair. He rolled onto his belly then wormed his way into the gap between the back of the chair and the floor. Once he’d gotten most of his body underneath it, he wedged his right hand under his chest and pushed up sharply.

It took two more tries but finally the chair tilted forward and Logan twisted with it, grabbing the strap criss-crossing the back of the chair to steady it before it tipped completely forward.

“Damn,” the Prince murmured.

“You’re still here?” Logan leaned against the seat back, panting, and in no way ready to either resume his crunches or climb into the chair.

The Prince shifted his weight from side to side, one foot pointed toward the door, the other toward him. Finally, he dropped to the floor and sat about two feet away. Jerking his chin toward the chair, he shrugged. “What were you even doing to knock over that beast?”

Logan eyed The Prince and considered ignoring his question. If he really was that nosy, he could just as easily pull up the security footage and that might be worse than simply hearing about it. Sighing, Logan let his eyes fall closed. “I was using it to brace my… legs for abdominal crunches. The other machine's not built for me.”

The Prince made a little choked sound in the back of his throat. Not a laugh, but…

Eyes still shut, Logan wiggled back into position and prepared himself for another set. If he could increase his core strength, maybe the one-armed pull-ups would get easier faster.

Logan’s eyes snapped open when he felt movement next to him. The Prince had moved closer, knelt on the floor only about a half-foot away, hands laying open on his lap. His expression was unreadable.

“Lay your legs against mine. I’ll brace you,” he said, patting the tops of his thighs and glancing down at where Logan’s legs ended. To the Prince’s credit, the usual mix of pity and disgust flashing over his features didn’t last long.

The Prince waited, holding his gaze until, finally, Logan nodded. He moved a little closer, but let Logan be the one to move close enough to touch and set his legs in place. “May I?” he asked, holding his hands over the tops of Logan’s thighs.

“Go—” Logan cleared his throat, the vulnerability of his position seizing the muscles in his neck. If he'd wanted to, The Prince could pick him up and fling him against the wall and not even break a sweat. “Go ahead,” he finally croaked out. With flat, open hands, The Prince pressed against his legs, holding him in place.

“I’ll let go the moment you tell me to,” the Prince said, then fell silent as Logan resumed his crunches.

He loathed to admit it, but focusing on only one set of muscles made the crunches almost enjoyable. Almost. “This helps,” Logan grunted. “Immensely.” He forced himself up for another two crunches. “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” The Prince replied, repeating his own words back at him from last night's skirmish with Hesper.

Logan pushed out the last of the set and lay back, counting down a thirty second rest period. He lifted up again and silently worked through another set. He slowed as he neared the end, muscles screaming in protest. “Why…" The temptation to ask The Prince about his history with Hesper—and about Re—was great. He shifted to the next question bubbling in his mind instead. "What are you helping me, anyway? I thought… I thought you hated me.”

“I don’t—” The twitch in The Prince’s jaw told Logan he very much did. “We’re a team,” he shrugged at last. “If you’re stronger, we’re all stronger. C’mon, Iron Man, that all you got?" Did Logan only imagine a smile behind his eyes? "Gimme three more.”

[vaguehotels]

something ive noticed is that in a lot of old pictures, i smile without my teeth. i had crooked, very yellow teeth until i got braces in my freshman year of high school. had em for two years. every single photo of me from that time, im smiling with my teeth, brackets shining for the world to see. after i got them off, nothing. kissy face. sticking out my tongue. frowning. mock surprise. i didnt smile anymore. but recently ive been spending more time with my mother. she likes to smile with her teeth in pictures. and now i do it too. every other selfie in my camera roll is us together, grinning away. i may be becoming my father in spirit and mind, but ill always have my mothers smile i think.

[gamblins]

knowing your partner can potentially make writing together a lot easier !

– BASICS.

NAME: autumn

PRONOUNS: they/them but any is fine

SEXUALITY: pansexual ?

TAKEN OR SINGLE: single

– THREE FACTS.

~ i have a very LOUD bird named hiccup he hates my guts but he is just a funky little guys

~ i own two ferrets they are everything to me! one is named yue and one is azula. my whole camera roll is just them being cute little rats!

~ I cosplay! i have been cosplaying for YEARS tho ive been taking a long break. im slowly going back into it. hazbin is giving me inspo to do it again and YES im being dragged to cosplay charlie with zestial(rory) as my father lucifer :) very excited

— EXPERIENCE.

HOW LONG (MONTHS / YEARS?): def about eleven years

PLATFORMS YOU’VE USED: i used kik , instagram , skype , twitter , discord , jcink & tumblr.

BEST EXPERIENCE: so far tumblr and this community as been amazing ! i had a lot of experience and this one is by far my favorite <3. its giving me the reason to love rping again

– MUSE PREFERENCES.

FEMALE OR MALE: . i am a mix usually i lean towards masc. but i do like my fair share of fem

FLUFF, ANGST OR SMUT: i enjoy fluff and angst ! i do like angst to an extent as long as it gets resolved ! cause i cry so hard with angst (zestials knows this first hand! they have made ME SOB over good ass angst.) smut i do enjoy as long as the other enjoys it as well i am good to write it out as long as we have an idea of were it would go!

PLOTS OR MEMES: both! i do like memes and plotting out things are great as well! cause it give more flavor and that spark!

LONG OR SHORT REPLIES: i do a mix of both! i can do long once and match other threads so i usually match my partners or i tend to go overboard and write long threads when the muse it right.

BEST TIME TO WRITE: . i usually write best when the muse hits but usually at nights or midmorning were i wake up from my slumber ! and usually listen to music and vibe when writing.

ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSE(S): i love playing fun and crazy characters and grumpy characters too!! so so id say yes!

TAGGED BY: @chthonicrage , @spiderslvts TAGGING: @hellsbroadcaster @origiinis @k1zty @televanghell and anyone who wants to do it!

[jobrookekarev]

The Beating of Two Hearts Chapter Ten

Chapter: Ten of Twelve

Words: 3,256

Summary: Jo talks with Carina about sneaking out and Alex talks with Cristina and Hayes about his anxiety and taking paternity leave.

Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy.

Relationship: Alex Karev/Jo Wilson.

Characters: Alex Karev, Jo Wilson, Carina DeLuca, Cristina Yang, and Cormac Hayes.

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences.

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Fluff, Drama, Domestic, Marriage, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Light Angst, Parenthood, Menial Illness, Happy Ending.

Read at AO3

Read at FFN

…………………………………………………………………

Jo was typing away on her laptop and working on the paper again. She watched her mouse, David Bowie, from a camera she had set up in the lap. At least this way she could still do what she wanted without having to sneak out. However, she was still hoping to get the results from the lab on David Bowie's latest blood test. His liver enzymes were slightly elevated. He was four years old now and she wanted to make sure he wasn't declining in health naturally or because of the mini livers. 

There was a knock at the door and Jo jumped with a start and slammed the laptop shut before she showed it under her pillow.

“Come in,” Jo yelled as she tried to act natural.

Carina walked to the room holding something behind her back. Jo sighed and held out her arm, turning away so she didn't have to see the IV being put in again. However, instead, Carina placed a cool drink in her hand. When Jo looked back Carina simply held a small container containing a few pills. Jo raised her eyebrow at her as she turned back around and took a sip from the drink. It was one of the mocktails they usually made for their patients after labor. Jo smiled as she tasted the red cherry flavoring that she liked. Carina still held out the pills and Jo took them with little reluctance. 

After she swallowed them Carina sat down and pulled the stool beside her. She didn't say anything for a half second and Jo wondered why as she studied Carina's expression. It was surprisingly natural. Yet, she would for sure Carina would give her another scolding and she had every right to.

“The pills I just gave you are, a prenatal, your heart pill, and the Tylenol as I know you still need it. This should be sufficient enough. So long as you stay hydrated, I see no reason for you to be on an IV including the fact that most of your medications can be taken orally.”

“What's the catch,” Jo said, narrowing her eyes at her, sensing that there was something more.

“There is none,” Carina said as Jo raised her eyebrows. “You are not at risk for preterm labor, and your baby is extremely healthy. If it was up to me I would discharge you this afternoon.”

“Really?” Jo asked in surprise. “Does Cristina or Alex know about this?”

“I've already talked with Cristina about it,” Carina said, but then she frowned. “However, it's Alex who isn't quite on board yet.”

“Of course,” Jo said with an eye roll.

“He is only worried for your safety, however overzealous.”

Jo nodded and she took another sip of her drink. “He's been really anxious recently. He doesn't sleep well and he's had nightmares. He barely eats and he complains of heartburn, but I know it's an anxious stomach. He's so worried about me, and I can see it in his eyes, but when I ask he says he's just tired. But I don't believe him.” 

“Nor do I,” Carina said with a nod.

“I don't know what to do,” Jo admitted to her as she looked down at her wedding rings. “When I was struggling with my mental health, I didn't want to talk to anybody, not even Alex. And I think he's feeling the same thing.”

“I know, Maya was the same way,” Carina said as she looked down as well, playing with her wedding rings. “However Alex has seen you take on your own mental health issues, and will follow your lead to better health, with a little pushing in the right direction.” 

Carina reached out and grasped one of Jo's hands, giving it a squeeze. Jo nodded as well. “I’ll talk to Cristina. I think in this situation she can help him more than anyone. And I need to apologize to you for the way I've been acting. I'm sorry.” 

Jo glanced back up at her, with a sheepish look as Carina gave her a small smile. Carina leaned forward and wrapped her in a hug. “I only worry for you, because I care about you Jo, deeply. You are a dear friend and a trusted colleague. I love you like a sister, I don’t want to lose you.” 

Jo agreed with the nod as she teared up. “I love you like a sister too.”

Carina smiled as she pulled Jo in for another hug. Carina clung to her before she sighed and let go, getting up and hanging Jo her phone. “You’re still an inpatient and you're grounded, and are to remain in your room until you're discharged. However, you are free to call Cristina and Alex. I hope you are able to help him.”

Jo nodded, she knew her punishment was only fair as she pulled up Cristina’s number and pressed call as Carina left her alone.

…………………………………………………………………

“You have to do something about Jo,” Alex yelled as he burst into the office Cristina was working in. Cristina had texted him, to have him come talk to her about Jo. Alex was hoping that she could talk some sense into Jo and get her to stay in her room.

“What do you mean, specifically?” Cristina asked although she didn’t look up from the paper she was writing. She squinted even as she was wearing glasses.

“Well, I just mean that she's like she's running all over the hospital. No one can find her and she takes out her IV. I just found her working in her lab with mice,” Alex explained as he started pacing in front of her.

“Oh yeah the mini livers, how's that going?” Cristina asked, finally looking up at him. 

“I don't know,” Alex said, throwing up his hands. “She said something about trials, but that's still probably at least a year away. I worry about her. She shouldn't be with mice, especially unhealthy ones. What if they bite her or give her some kind of disease? With her heart, she can’t survive that.”

Cristina shrugged and he glared at her then shook his head.

“But this is what I'm talking about. She's completely distracted and focused on working rather than healing like she should be. She should be resting in bed. She should be, I don't know, knitting baby stuff or something.”

“Jo knitting?” Cristina scoffed with a laugh. 

“Well I mean she could if she wanted to,” Alex said as he looked over at her. 

“Alex, what's your heart rate?” Cristina asked, pausing and finally shutting the laptop as she looked up at him. 

“I don't know,” Alex said, pausing as he listened to his heartbeat for a second. “Maybe 120 or something.” 

 Cristina rolled her eyes. “Well put your fingers to your neck and test for it.”

“Why is this important?” Alex continued his pacing, but Cristina got up and stopped him as she put her hands on his shoulders and put her fingers against his neck. 

Alex paused for a breath. He was breathing heavily, but he had been pacing back and forth and running all over the hospital looking for Jo. They had also just had a fight and his emotions were high. 

“Your heart rate is elevated, 187,” Cristina said as she moved his hand to his shoulder giving it a squeeze. “I'm sure your blood pressure isn't much better.”

Cristina pulled out a cuff and placed it on his arm as she took his blood pressure, she frowned at the results and showed it to him. Alex looked up in surprise. “That can't be right, that's way too high okay.”

“Come on, let's go sit down and take a couple of deep breaths,” Cristina said as Alex nodded and they both went over to the couch.

Alex said he knew what she was doing as he let out a sigh. Before he breathed in and out. He remembered the song the kids used to sing, ‘One little breath blew away the clouds.’ As he breathed out. ‘Then in came the sun and melted the snow.’ He often sang it with Helena and Luna as it helped them with their meltdowns and tantrums.

He sat down next to Cristina as she took his blood pressure again and smiled. “Much better.”

“What's the point of all this though?” Alex asked, calmly, but he wasn’t sure where she was going with all this. 

“When was the last time you had a panic attack?” Cristina softly asked him as he shook his head.

“It was when Jo was rushed into surgery.”

“Let me rephrase this, when was the last time your chest was so tight you couldn't breathe?”

“Are you saying that I'm having heart issues now?” 

“No, but I'm guessing the last time you felt that was, was this afternoon, when Jo wasn't there in her room.

“It’s not that she wasn't there, it’s that no one could find her. She could have a heart attack. What if she had died or gone into preterm labor? Or….”

“Alex, why don’t you look at the numbers?” Cristina said, pulling up her computer again and pulling out Jo's latest test results.

He looked over the labs and the stress test results, including the echo that played on the computer. Her heart is strong, there was no denying it. 

“I recommended that she be discharged as of tomorrow and Carina and I both agree. Maggie said she'll take up monthly appointments with Jo until the baby's born and after that every 6 months. She'll get an echo and a stress test and she'll send me the results, but I've also booked a plane home for tonight.”

“You're leaving now? But what if….” 

“Alex, take a breath again.”

Alex growled but did as he was told. He took a deep breath, letting the tightness in his chest uncurl and subside for the moment.

“Your wife is healthy again, you don't need me to babysit her anymore. You can go home and I'm going to go home too.” 

 “But what if….” Alex trailed off as he felt his chest tighten. The anxiety curled inside of him like a spring on a Jack in the box, ready to burst open at any minute.

“Jo said you've been having trouble sleeping.”

“Yeah, but I just have a lot on my plate with Jo and the girls, puls Luna stopped sleeping through the night so I did too and Helena is suddenly biting at daycare so I have to pick her up early and Jo naps during the day and then is up early in the morning and late a night….” 

Cristina raised an eyebrow at him, not believing his justifications. “Carina said Jo’s sleeping well and that Luna only wakes up once in the middle of the night but goes back down easy. I can’t say for the biting thing that’s your department.”

Alex laughed a little as he ran his hand over his face. “But I don't, stare up at the ceiling and worry. I'm always going to worry about my wife and our daughters, you can’t change that.”

“There's worrying about life and then there’s anxiety. Alex, I think it might be wise to make an appointment with your GP to discuss therapy and potential anti-anxiety medication.”

“I don't know if I’m there yet,” Alex said with a shake of his head.

 Cristina just gave him a soft smile. “I think we might be.”

Alex looked away from her, staring at the wall as his chest tightened again. An image of Jo laying on the hospital bed, her eyes not focusing on him and telling him that she didn't feel well. Cristina put a hand on his back and rubbed up and down. That brought him back as he let out a shaky breath. 

He didn't realize he was crying until the tears fell onto his lap and Cristina offered him a tissue. It was like a release of emotions that had been building up for the past month. All of that fear, and anxiety, and worry, and stress of the situation, came pouring out as he cried. Cristina just rubbed his back and offered him tissues. She didn't make fun of him, she never would and for that he was grateful. 

He remembered when he first told Cristina that he loved Jo. Lying on her bed in her room staring up at the ceiling admitting his love for Jo for the first time. Back then he was scared, but it was a different kind of fear, the kind of rejection and heartbreak. If he knew then what he knew now, he would have punched Myers before he had the chance to hurt Jo. He would have loved her sooner and helped her divorce Paul before he lashed out at Andrew. He would have kissed her, loved her, and married her again in a heartbeat. Looking at their life now, he knew that it was all worth it. Even if it meant having to go through all this again. But, he was desperate to get back to the way things were before her heart failed, or at least to have a new normal again.

“I think therapy would be good,” Alex finally admitted as he wiped away the last of the tears with a nod. 

“I’ll help you make an appointment with a therapist today, but first I think you should talk to Jo and make up with her,” Cristina said, giving him a little nudge and Alex agreed with another nod. 

“Will you at least stay for dinner? If Jo gets discharged maybe we could have dinner at Meredith's house,” Alex asked. “I feel like we haven't really spent any time with you and Meredith, just the three of us.” 

“Why don’t you both meet me in the pits after you've made up with Jo and we can drink and talk about how things have changed.”

“I've really missed you.”

“I've missed you too,” Cristina said as she pulled him in for a hug and Alex hugged her back. Neither one of them were good with physical affection but this felt warranted. “You and Mer have to come to Switzerland and bring the kids too. I'm sure they'll have a blast.” 

“I don't know about that,” Alex said with a small laugh. “Meredith’s kids would probably enjoy it, but I don’t know about having two toddlers and a baby on the plane.” 

“I could get you a private jet?” Cristina said with a shrug as if a private jet was a normal way to travel.

“We'll see,” Alex said with a smile.

…………………………………………………………………

Alex approached Hayes as he stood at the nurse's station on the ped’s floor going over his chart work. He had stopped by his office to come down from the high of his emotions and to pick up Jo’s mac and cheese. Hayes glanced up at him with a nod before he went back to his work. The two of them had worked together in the Peds department since the merger with Pac-North. They were co-chiefs, but neither was willing to bend to the other. They often butted heads as they had different approaches to things. However, they were starting to put aside their egos and work together as Heyes had stepped up to help him since Jo had gotten sick.

“I heard Jo escaped again,” Heyes said with a smirk.

Alex sighed as he shook his head. “Don’t even remind me and don’t help her again.”

“She's a grown woman, Karev and she’s mostly recovered,” Hayes argued back with his excuses. 

“I don’t want to hear it Hayes,” Alex said, raising his voice. “It's bad enough that you go along with her and hide out in your office with her.”

“Karev,” Hayes said with a stern voice as Alex growled. “When my wife, Abigail, was in the hospital all she wanted was a bit of normalcy. So I’d take her to have lunch with me in my office like we used to do before she got sick. Jo needed the same normalcy so I had lunch with her in my office. It’s more than you do for her.”

Alex took in Hayes’s scolding with a grain of salt. Yet, when Hayes brought up Abigail, he softened. Hayes was just looking out for Jo as a friend and Alex did appreciate that. He understood what they were going through, given his experience with his own wife. He was also right, although Alex was reluctant to admit it. 

“I know, and Jo must have loved that,” Alex admitted as he looked up at Hayes, the animosity gone. 

“She did, but she would have preferred to have lunch with you. It’s mac and cheese day, her favorite,” Hayes gently reminded him. 

“Yeah, I know that too. I got a bowl for her. I don't think Jo can’t stay in the hospital now that she doesn’t have to. But I need to take paternity leave so I can be with her. She hates being here and she hates being home alone, but if I'm home with her, I’m hoping she’ll let me take care of her. I want to take care of my wife. And I need you to take over for me and run the peds department. I know we butt heads on it, but we’ve been co-chiefs since I came back from Pac North and you’re the only one I trust with my patients, well you and Schmitt too, but don't tell him I said that.” 

“Yeah, the resident doesn't need another ego boost now that he's got his confidence,” Hayes agreed with a smile. “But are you sure? Now that she's recovering more, Jo will settle down if you give her a little bit of freedom and I knew you talked about working until the delivery.”

“I’m sure, Cristina and Carina agreed that she shouldn't work. I still think she should be on light bed rest too but that’s not going to happen. If Jo has to be at home and not working then it’s only fair if I do the same,” Alex said, sure of his plan.

Hayes’ expression softened as he nodded. “You should know that I’ve already talked to some of your patients and introduced myself about taking over your service.”

“You went behind my back and stole my patients?” Alex asked, putting his hands on his hips.

“Was I wrong to do so?” Hayes asked with a raised eyebrow. “You’ve been more focused on Jo than your work and for good reason, but someone needed to step in.”

“Okay,” Alex relented, putting his hands down. “I’ll officially hand my patients over to you. I already talked to Chief Altmen and since I'm already on leave she’s agreed to start my paternity leave at the end of the day.” 

“That sounds good, Karev. We can handle it here, go take care of your wife,” Hayes said with a smile patting his back in silent support. 

“Thank you, Hayes,” Alex said letting out a sigh of relief as he felt the weight of the world lift off his shoulders.

It took a while to get everything organized. There was a mountain of paperwork and charts. Alex and Hayes met with all of his patients and he was able to hand them over with confidence. With everything in place for him to go on leave, Alex packed up his bag, closed his office, and took off his white coat. Then he went to his wife.

[formulateez-replies]

hello! this is cher/cherrie from formulateez !

ʚ get to know me ɞ

twenty. she/her. filo. kpop + formula racing enthusiast. us based (est).

i first got introduced to k-pop back in 2010-2011 when my neighbor showed me shinee's lucifer and ring ding dong. i didn't really start liking k-pop as a whole until around the second half of 2015!

my ult groups are currently ateez, enhypen, xg, nct dream, le sserafim, newjeans, and txt. (can you tell that i'm a hybe stan...)

i also really like (g)i-dle, &team, astro, aespa, boynextdoor, bts, day6, dreamcatcher, exo, fifty fifty, fromis_9, got the beat/girls on top, got7, history, ikon, infinite, itzy, ive, kard, knk, loona, monsta x (+ wonho), nct (as a whole, i'm just more of an nct dream stan), nmixx, nu'est, onlyoneof, p1harmony, pentagon, pristin, red velvet, seventeen, sf9, shinee, sistar, stayc, stray kids, the boyz, teen top, triples, twice, and vixx. (this is in alphabetical order, not in the order of which i like them. a good portion of those groups are my old ults or disbanded groups. i've have a lot of ult groups throughout the years.)

my fav f1 drivers are cl16, ln4, op81, and mv1.

i have only been into formula 1 since dec '22. i'm still learning a lot about the sport and the drivers as well!

my fav f2 drivers are al12, jd14, dh1, and ob8.

i have only been into f2 for a few months, it's the same case as f1, i'm still learning a lot about formula racing and its drivers as a whole!

my fav f3 drivers are pa1, db2, and sm14.

i also support hamda alqubaisi, bianca bustamante, and chloe chong!

i also used to be in a heavy emo phase (i never actually left it) and so i do enjoy a lot of emo/rock/metal music!

i'm not into much anime anymore but i'll occasionally rewatch some of my favorites or i'll end up watching newer shows with my boyfriend. the animes that i've enjoyed watching in the past are soul eater, black butler, haikyuu!!, ouran high school host club, and free! my current favorites are cyberpunk: edgerunners and chainsaw man!

i also have a side hobby of gaming! i wouldn't necessarily call myself a gamer since i don't play that many games. you'll usually find me on minecraft, the sims 4, roblox, or destiny 2! i also occasionally will play fortnite with friends (i'm just not good at pvp games so i tend to not play them that much; UNLESS it's arsenal on roblox. i kick ass lowkey in that game.)

the following things WILL get you BLOCKED !

my work and this blog is for individuals 18+ ONLY! minors are not and will never be welcome in this space of mine.

if you are under the age of 18, you will immediately be BLOCKED!

if you do not have your age displayed somewhere on your blog, you will immediately be BLOCKED!

if your blog is blank (such as no header, no icon, no title, no posts, etc.) you will also be BLOCKED! tumblr will automatically assume that you are a bot, and having excessive amounts of bot accounts as followers can harm a creator's blog. at the very least, please decorate your blog so that creators don't assume you are a bot.

while likes are always appreciated, they do not contribute much towards a creator's content. tumblr is very different from other social media platforms. therefore, reblogging our posts are the only things that will boost our posts and open opportunities to extend the reach of our content. feedback is also always welcome and is encouraged! it helps content creators know what their audience likes and what they don't like.

i'm, technically, very new to tumblr. the last time i was active on tumblr was back in 2017-2018. a lot of the information stated above was learned from other blogs such as:

kwanisms

ncteez

(this post and my navigation is also very inspired by these two blogs since i had no clue how to format either of these </3 they're also super friendly, really great writers, and deserve the follow <3)

the dividers used are from cafekitsune!

the photos of seonghwa, aki, and charles were all found on pinterest but they've been in my camera roll for a little bit so i don't recall who they belong to.

click HERE to return to my writing blog!

[vyrim]

Im semi excited for the full Balders Gate 3 release in a month. I have no issue with the divinity style even if some aspects of it, such as the little amount of interesting stuff that comes from leveling up, arent the most exciting. My major concern is the performance side of things. First couple of hours I was fine, able to explore the beginning of the area with a constant 60 fps. Then it just kept dipping and dipping as I played, until I basically got to the end of the ea content barely able to keep a stable 30. With that teaser video they did of the actual Balders Gate city supposedly being massive and detailed, im worried that my computer wont be able to run it at all, let alone at a non eye straining frame rate. We'll see though I guess.

Minor complaints underneath

TLDR: Wish this game looked shittier but played better. I couldnt give two shits how realistic the models or environment if it was just really well tuned. Probably gonna be one of those "Devs bit off more than they could chew" situations that Ill end up getting angry at around the second half, finish, and never play again.

-Ive always hated the spellcasting system of most tabletops. Cast a spell and its gone, if it missed or failed then sucks to be you. Its not a fun idea, and I wish most of the spells were simply made weaker or placed on a cooldown rather than limited. That was what was cool about divinity, if you figured out some really cool combos then you wouldnt have to resort to resting every couple fights just to use them again. Sucks, especially since most stuff is subject to roll rng, so your big lv 3 spellslot ability means nothing cause dipshit beat the dc by chance. Even worse when alot of spells are channeled, so if your character gets hit even once and then proceeds to fail the concentration check the spell fizzles out. Lame shit.

-THE CAMERA. The camera is atrocious, and I dont know what they did differently compared to Divinity 2, but it is a nightmare to control. If you pan too far from your character theres this, like, invisible leash that sudden kills any further movement. It also hates and form of horizontal movement, which means if your character is really high up it wont go down, and if youre trying to look up a cliff it'll just rub the wall.

-The cast is underwhelming. You have a githyanki which is neat, but otherwise its literally two human guys, a half elf, and a vampire elf. Theres not a single dwarf, halfing, gnome, or even a tiefling in the party, which is super lame. They could have easily had a dwarf with the weird magical item hunger problem, or a tiefling vampire wouldve been funny as hell.

-While the variety of extra actions are cool (I cant count how many people Ive killed by shoving them off cliffs or into lava) but theyre really clunky. The environment has so much detail that shoving or shooting in a direction is at massive risk of being just caught on some stray rock or pillar.

-The AI for npcs is still as dumb as it used to be, had a slave get mad at me for shoving its captor into lava. Guys that have never pathed will suddenly turn around out of the blue, even had one person just t-pose and vanish.

-Most of the magical equipment I got wasnt very interesting. Even the adamantite stuff I got after the big fight in the forge was just a debuff on hit. I want silly shit, I want game breaking shit, I want more stuff like those weird tentacle grenades that pull people in.

-Very buggy, and with how big theyre saying the game is gonna be I dont think its any better on release, probably worse actually. I wouldnt have such issues with it if reloading the game didnt take thirty years to complete. Poor Shadowheart made a jump only to glitch out and plummet several stories mid way.

[signalwatch]

WA Watch: Rushmore (1998)

I figure this is me and my nephew in about 8 years

Watched:  07/16/2023

Format:  Streaming Amazon

Viewing:  Unknown

Director:  Wes Anderson

Recently, I was watching some old Bugs Bunny cartoons, circa 1940, and I was surprised to see the name "Charles M. Jones" in the credits.  While "Chuck Jones" is synonymous with WB animation, he's really associated with a certain artistic style and flair that is characterized in certain styles of background, character design and with his comedic timing in everything from "What's Opera, Doc?" to The Grinch Who Stole Christmas.  But there was his name in plain text.

He had not yet timed how long it took an anvil to fall or for Wile E. Coyote to hang in mid-air before plummeting for maximum comedic effect.  He hadn't quite gotten the rise of an eyebrow or a sly look to the viewer.  But.  It's there.  

Jamie was the one who requested a watch of Rushmore (1998) a film we saw together way back at the Arbor IV upon its release.  And we've watched a number of times over the years.  And, for her, it was an academic exercise in "what was he doing in 1998?  and how does it true up to what's there in 2023 with Asteroid City?"

It's interesting how Anderson springs into a form we all would have been fine with here in 1998 and with his second feature (after the excellent Bottle Rocket).  He's locking in on some of the themes he'd return to (certainly distant, bad dads), certain camera shots/ edits, formal dialog fit more for a 20th century short story than a film in the naturalist mode, aesthetics of symmetry and retro-ism.  

It's also curious to ponder how much of the Wes Anderson story that Owen Wilson occupies.  The two were roommates at the University of Texas, and Anderson - maybe UT's brightest star in film - did not actually participate in the film program, but got a Philosophy degree.*  Bottle Rocket was a deep partnership between Anderson and the Wilson brothers and he'd co-star in the film as well as co-writing and appearing in Royal Tenenbaums.  And, of course, he appears in numerous other Anderson pictures, including French Dispatch, which I haven't seen yet.  

I assume the pacing of events means Anderson and Wilson wrote Rushmore while in their mid-20's to late-20's, and while there's certainly a level of goofiness to the proceedings and it is, in part, about a middle-aged man in a juvenile spat with a 15-year-old, there's some great character stuff that rings even more true here as I roll towards 50.  

I don't know that Anderson could do Rushmore again.  Maybe.  He's never quite given up on teen geniuses, including underperforming teen and adult geniuses.  He's still working through dead parents, bad parents, indifferent parents.  He's still invested in messy romance treated as a matter-of-fact.  I'm not sure a studio would be as ready to fund a movie about a teen and teacher with a complex relationship in the last 20 years.  

But, in general, there's nothing  - to me - about Rushmore that doesn't work.   

I'm glad it's shot in Houston.  Bleak, wintery Houston in all its no-zoning-laws glory and mix of industrial mess and bucolic park-like environs.  I love that dumb town.  

And, of course, it really gave the world Jason Schwartzman and a new view of Bill Murray.  Co-star Olivia Williams has remained feverishly busy, appearing in American works, from The Sixth Sense to Hyde Park on the Hudson (reteamed with Murray).  

But the film also has Brian Cox, briefly Connie Nielsen, Luke and Andrew Wilson, and the late Seymour Cassel.  Sara Tanaka and Mason Gamble seem to have retired from acting - but I think Tanaka is a cardiologist now?

Anyway, 25 years later, the movie still works as well as it ever did, and at this point, it's much more than a curious artifact of Anderson's early work - it's clearly pointing the way he's headed.

  *Little tip for you brainiacs like me who burned through 5 years of college and panicked in their 4th year and also got a history degree

https://ift.tt/3a8Kv9V

from The Signal Watch https://ift.tt/qFbXNlR

[aestheticvoyage2024]

Day 360: Wednesday December 25, 2024 - "rest in the arms of love at last, must rest in the arms of love."

Of course it wasn't at all as I would have designed it, and I just let it happen and experienced, fully, the best Christmas of my life. The stuff they write books about.

It started early, when I got maybe the best Christmas present ever to start this magical day. I was awake just before William and without realizing it, that was such a lucky thing. Because moments later, as he stretched his tiny toes down in under my warm leg, he let out a little quiet excited gasp. I got to hear the moment he realized it was Christmas morning. What a fun memory that I'll have for the rest of my life. What a special start to the day. His natural next reaction was to wake up Audrie and start her day the way so many have for the past two weeks - "Mama, is it Christmas?!" I smiled and just soaked that magic in, and reached over and pinched her butt, as she confirmed his hope - it was Christmas. Moments later we were checking the reindeer food, and their little eyes were seeing Santa's gifts for the first time. Free of all my expectations for how that should go, I found a comfy spot on the couch next to Jose and Christmas started to unfold. I reached over and banged him on the back with my paw and said "we should be doing this every year." And we all just kept saying that all day.

We paused for the Christmas treat that I wanted to unwrap - every Christmas Eve Mama Audrie puts in over time and makes special gluten free Cinnamon Rolls for all of us with special Mrs. Clause frosting. And I can attest that when I went to bed after 2 again this Christmas, she was still up working on it in the kitchen. I fell asleep thinking about those cinammon rolls and how good they were going to be and how fun it was going to be with all the Cordovas here too. And I called all that love forward, and those cinnamon rolls were even better than I imagined. What a special part of Christmas these will always be for William. I felt Audrie's love in every bite. And she sat across from me back in the Great Room, right in the middle of the train track all morning and I was just in so much love with her. What a special Christmas and I was feeling all of that finally, when she had me unwrap a present "from William." After I had already decided that I had gotten the greatest present of my entire life, I peeled open that Mixtiles box, to find pictures of our beautiful family and I wept. I let it get and I wept. I let that love in, and I wept. Ive surely never cried opening a present before - and if I had, it wasn't like that. In front of everyone because I was surrounded by people who loved me that would understand and Audrie helped me see, how we'd get those on the wall, and I wept. I felt a lot of love. And it was so overwhelming. That was a really beautiful of my heart busting open that Audrie caught on camera. A very healing Christmas, finally.

The rest of the day passed slowly, with time spent connecting with the girls, and enjoying Aria's snow Cones, seeing William open all his planes, and getting his outdoor jeep charged up. Such a fun morning. I was starving for a good meal as Violet and Audrie clammored away in the kitchen making hollandaise sauce and eggs and the whole bit, just like my first Christmas here, the year Aria was born. Finally Violet's Diner was open for business and I filled my plate with a mash of things covered in the special sauce and took my place at our family's table finally as we sang a really special round of Simple Gifts that touched me so deeply that it almost brought me be to tears and I was so aware of my connection to every other person around that table and I felt all the love and the peace in our home and it was the best Christmas ever. The food was overwhelmingly good. Like it was the first time Id ever eaten. My heart was wide open. I loved the food. I even felt and had a magical healing loving moment with the dog. I learned to lean in, withouth masking and pulled myself back together for another round of gift opening with Audrie's Dad and that felt so freeing and powerful. Then I went to bed, early - before the kids even. And had one final powerful loving moment there on Christmas Day, introducing myself for the first time to Luke. It was great place to finally bring all this and leave it. I went to bed on that powerful note telling myself - "it hurts now, but you'll love this memory" - the best Christmas of my life. I felt all of it. From William's first magical gasp, to now going to bed having experienced Christmas Day in my own skin and I leaned into and felt nothing but love.

My peace begins with me.

I can heal. It won't happen over night - it will happen every day.

And I will never have another lonely holiday.

The best Christmas of my life.

Song: Amos Lee - Holiday Song

Quote:

“The weight of the world is love. Under the burden of solitude, under the burden of dissatisfaction the weight, the weight we carry is love. Who can deny? In dreams it touches the body, in thought constructs a miracle, in imagination anguishes till born in human— looks out of the heart burning with purity— for the burden of life is love, but we carry the weight wearily, and so must rest in the arms of love at last, must rest in the arms of love. No rest without love, no sleep without dreams of love— be mad or chill obsessed with angels or machines, the final wish is love —cannot be bitter, cannot deny, cannot withhold if denied: the weight is too heavy —must give for no return as thought is given in solitude in all the excellence of its excess. The warm bodies shine together in the darkness, the hand moves to the center of the flesh, the skin trembles in happiness and the soul comes joyful to the eye— yes, yes, that's what I wanted, I always wanted, I always wanted, to return to the body where I was born.”

― Allen Ginsberg