#Skippy Wanders

[prince-rat]

woy, wandersong, dialtown, and ocs!

(etsy)

[a-ginger-from]

Honestly I think spurs will be fine (and I'm praying that there are lmao) that lineup is not bad

[fairyhaos]

seventeen as their songs' choreographies

pls i binged their dance practices and then suddenly i was like "hey this wld make a good hc!!!!" so here we are. here's which svt song choreo (specifically just the dance movements) i think each member would be

masterlist

seungcheol

super. no, it's not just bc of the fits and stylings that he had during the comeback stages that he absolutely slayed, but the choreography itself feels weirdly like scoups: the power, the confidence and the martial arts-esque moves feel like him

jeonghan

fear. maybe a bit unexpected, but the choreo is almost dangerously beautiful and very jeonghan. it's the kind of beauty that's like watching someone's destructive downfall and being unable to look away

joshua

dream. he's just having so!!!! much!!!! fun!!!! during the choreography video but also. it's so fucking CUTE and makes me think of him like?? the swaying arms and the little bobbing up and down is adorable and He's adorable and oh lord i need to have a lie down bc it's just too cute

junhui

aju nice. the chaoticism of the choreo which looks all whirlwind-crazy before you realise that their cohesiveness is actually incredible is such a junhui thing actually. it's such a bright and messy and energetic choreo in the most polished way

hoshi

crush. the choreo has kinda gay, kinda sexy vibes and they make use of really clever positioning in triangles/ parallel lines to give it a really sleek, powerful feel. honestly it just feels like it has hoshi written all over it

wonwoo

thanks. so much of the choreo makes me think of waves crashing and falling—the canon movements, the arms, the rising and falling actions—and there's something so heart-wrenching and powerful about it.

woozi

hitorijanai. the slow gentleness, the delicacy, the arm movements that seem to connote something gentle and opening up to the world all make me think of him. woozi has always been like a fairy in my eyes, and this choreo embodies exactly that

minghao

don't wanna cry. the synchronisation and canon moves are off-the-charts levels of gorgeous. also the way they tell the story with mostly only their arm movements is mesmerising and beautiful and so elegant and yearning that it reminds me of minghao

mingyu

left & right. the choreography is just so fun to look at. like, you watch them dancing and you genuinely get an exhilarated feeling of utter joy bc the choreo is so fresh and fun and idk it just feels like a mingyu-esque dance to me

dokyeom

anyone. genuinely could Not take my eyes off this guy in particular whilst watching the choreo vid n it's bc he makes the moves look so clean, esp that part where they move the movement from the arms into the legs??? literally gorgeous.

seungkwan

mansae. the choreography is sharp and fresh and clean and sooo bright. you can positively feel the groove in the movements alone, and the way they change formation so seamlessly with such sharpness is such seungkwan vibes

vernon

clap. iconic dance practice moment aside, this rlly is unironically vernon cuz it's just such a funny and fun choreo. that part where they almost crawl across the floor has me giggling every time and the amount of body shaking is so funny to me

chan

_world. it's just- it's just a cute song with the cutest choreo ever. i don't know why it makes me think of chan oh lord but the little skippy steps that they do and the adorable hip popping is just soooo so dino coded to me

request guidelines

reactions tags: @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @bunnyiix @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @newgirlygirl @moonlitskiiies @mirxzii @wonranghaeee @yonabutnotyuna @crackedpumpkin @wqnwoos @kthstrawberryshortcake-main @kawennote09 @a-wandering-stay @icyminghao @valenhui @sweet-like-caramel @odxrilove @kyeomyun @chansburgah @pepperonijem @jeonride @kellesvt @astrozuya @eightlightstar @onlyyjeonghan @aaniag @amxlia-stars @all-american-fangirl @f1uffyjun @sea-moon-star @nonononranghaee @isabellah29 @mcu-incorrect @hrts4hanniehae @kikohao

[thesassypadawan]

Tag 2 (David x FemReader)

Summary:  Tag.  A simple fun game of back and forth, except when it comes to your ‘jumping’ loving boyfriend.  Who's bent the rules; turning it into a one-way match of ‘whenever, wherever’…even if you’re having a spooky date night.

Warnings: 18+ (mdni), because there’s sooo much of the smut.  Public smex, fun from behind, ‘tag’, pointy hay bales, overgrown goblins, and…David's fat, long dick.

Notes: Happy Kinktober all you, lovelies! 🖤🧡 (Hope you also enjoy Tag 1!)

-  A phantom tweak of your nipples here…an invisible smack, pinch to each plump cheek there…even the occasional ghostly squeeze to your pert mound…

-  That’s how your journey through the winding, seemingly endless pathways of the haunted corn maze has been progressing.  The very one your ‘jump’ happy, horny boyfriend so eagerly and surprisingly suggested to do for a spookishly delightful date night.  Oh, how much of a foolish mortal you truly were…

-  Wandering cautiously down one of the more darkened, deserted trails; your ears strain, eyes sweep the shadows.  On guard, overanalyzing every creak of the stalks or frightful decoration you pass.  The whole time watching, waiting for the familiar…the inevitable…

-  Burst of light…warm chest presses to your chilled form…strong arms encircle your waist…and a pair of lips ghost the shell of your ear.  “Boo to you.”

-  “Vid,” you squeak.  Trying and failing miserably at hiding your surprise.  Undoubtedly giving him the satisfaction of scaring you…a little.  “So freaking cheesy.”

-  “Yeah, but ya know ya love it,” he chuckles into the crook of your neck.  Big hand squeezing your hip, wandering lower.  Fingers playing with, tugging on the hem of your rather skippy skirt.  “Bout as much as I do seein’ ya in this, with them damn stomp-stomp boots of yours.  And…”

-  You can practically feel his grin growing bigger against your skin; dick hardening, poking at your plush bottom.  And you can’t help but mimic his enthusiasm; wiggling just enough to make him twitch, wicked smile on your face.  “All right…  What else you, overgrown gremlin?”

-  “And…”  Placing, trailing kisses; nipping, leaving a blood red mark.  He winds around, captures your wrists; gripping them tightly, pinning them easily behind your back.  “…tag.”

-  Pushing you towards the nearby hay bales, David practically flings you down onto them.  Spreading your legs wide, hiking up that slutty skirt…exposing your thong-clad ass to the crisp night air.

-  “Really?  The black lace ones?”  He growls, hooking his thumb underneath the thin piece of fabric…  “With that damn bat bow?”  …pulling it taunt, letting it…  “You’re sure askin’ for it.”  …snap.

-  Teeth sink into your bottom lip, forcing back a squeal.  As another couple walks unknowingly by…as your squishy globes jiggle and bounce from the recoil.  Walls fluttering, droplets of slick trickling down your full thigh.

-  “Thou-thought they looked c-cute,” you whimper once the cost is clear.  Wiggling, trying to get yourself more comfortable.  Hoodie riding up, dried grass scrapping and scratching at your soft stomach.

-  “They are, but they look cuter like this.”  Yanking them to the side roughly; almost breaking the delicate, drenched string.  He plunges two fingers into your greedy hole; curling, pumping…teasing, hitting that small bundle of nerves.  “Don’t ya think?”

-  Despite your best efforts, a cry flies from your mouth.  “Y-yes…yes!!”  And your face heats, burns bright from embarrassment.  While you strain to hear any fast-approaching footsteps or voices nearby.    

-  Only to be met with the chirp of crickets…gentle tinkling of metal…rustle of denim.  The low whine of disappointment bubbling from your throat when he removes his digits.  The loud gasp of pleasure being punched from your lungs when he replaces them with, slams his fat cock into you.

-  One hand grasps at your hip, pulling you harshly back to meet his strong thrusts.  “What’s the matter, angel?”  Your tender flesh rubbing across the course, sharp stems; small cuts forming, appearing…stinging. “Cat got your tongue?”

-  The other grabs hold of your wrists again, using them to haul you up just enough to pound into you faster and deeper.  Bullying and bruising your poor cervix with every bounce.  “Come on, let them hear ya.” 

-  Sound of skin slapping wetly, lewdly echoing throughout the darkened sky.  Along with his heavy grunts, your muffled pants…the thuds of sneakers on dirt, faint laughter.  “Make them think there’s a fuckin’ banshee over here.”

-  Driving hard one last time, burying himself to the hilt.  Your back arches, whole body tenses.  Clamping, gummy walls flexing and clenching around him.  Moans and wails flying from your lips as you crash completely, gushing all over.  “Vid…Da-DAVID!!”

-  While he growls, paints your insides ghost white.  “That’s it let them know who bumped ya in the night.”

-  Thuds draw closer, laughter louder…

-  Bringing you in closer, pressing you to his chest.  He bucks weakly for a few more moments, coming down from his own high.  “Sorry to cut this short, but…”  Peppering your neck in warm kisses, hot breath tickling it.  “Gotta jump.  See ya at the exit, my bad little ghoul…”

-  Smacking your ass firmly, disappearing in another flash of light.  David leaves you standing there.  Scrambling to rearrange yourself…to come up with the lame lie for the blissfully unaware couple that finds you.  Trying to play off the fact that the backside of your skirt wasn’t stained with his ectoplasm…or running down your leg, dribbling onto your ‘stomp-stomp’ boots.  “It was nothing, just got scared by some overgrown gremlin.”

Tag List: @espinathena-17, @myheartwillgoon2022, @laylaplease, @princessswifie, @kenobiskywalker16, @loverforoldermen, @jediavengers, @anisangeldust, @fredswrite, @t03soup, @haydensbbg, @humongouscatfest, @decaffeinatedunicorn, @sythethecarrot, @xhunnybeeex, @skyguys-princess

[fellow-travelers-fic-recs]

Fellow Travelers Fic Recs | April Recap

Some of the favorite fics read by FTFR and/or newly posted in April. This month we’ve got some stormy winter cuddles and lots of domestic bliss, old men in love, an awkward first date, plant POV, fics featuring Maggie and Estelle, Father Skippy, water sports and shower sex, office sex, fuck him on the floor sex, and threesome sex in this fandom’s first RPF fic!

Also, check out the latest fics in these collections:

🌼 Angstpril Prompt Challenge Masterpost

🌼 Promise You WILL Write Masterpost (Updated w/April fics) If you're feeling inspired, please visit the collection to leave a prompt for someone to write or take one for yourself... All are welcome!

Check out their page @promiseyouwillwrite for more info.

📣 April’s Features of the Month:

Fic of the Month: do these teeth still match the wound by @brokendrums | brokendrums

Author of the Month: @startagainbuttercup | startagainbuttercup

April Featured Collection: Old Men in Love Collection

April Featured WIPs

📚 More fic recs can be found at the fic register, here.

Not quite what you're looking for? Tell us what you had in mind, here! → 💌

✨ Show authors some love with your comments and kudos on the fics you enjoyed after reading! Likes are lovely, but please reblog this post to share this content with your mutuals! ✨

🌼 Within The Heart of Me by drabbleswabbles💠 [NR, 9K] Lucy goes to the hospital to talk to Tim. When she arrives, Hawk is already there.

Otherwise known as a prompt fill that wanders a bit off the mark, but is close enough in spirit to give credit where credit is due as far as inspiration goes.

🌼 Something Out Of Reach by @bluebellsinburbank | ConsumingLove (Bluebellstar) [T, 1K] Before the phone call, Hawk knows.

🌼 Shut Up and Drink Your Milk by @bre1995 | bre_thomas & @bluebellsinburbank | ConsumingLove (Bluebellstar) [E, 4K] It all started with Hawk's "shut up and drink your milk" and then whispering how he wanted Tim to "fuck him". With those words alone, Tim doesn't hesitate.

This is an extension on the Episode 8, '57 sex scene.

🌼 Catching A Breath Of Moonlight by @bluebellsinburbank | ConsumingLove (Bluebellstar) [G, 1K] One lazy evening, Tim tries to find the perfect endearment for Hawk.

🌼 After Hours by @bluebellsinburbank | ConsumingLove (Bluebellstar) [E, 2K] “That’s it,” Hawk praised, petting through the soft strands of Tim's hair. “Good boy.”

Tim moaned softly around him, swallowing him deeper into the blissful pressure of his throat.

Or, the office sex fic that no one asked for.

🌼 Forgive Me Father For I Have Sinned by @bre1995 | bre_thomas [E, 2K] Based around the episode 6 cabin conversation and scene, but with a little twist.

🌼 A Disaster, Beyond Measure by drabbleswabbles💠 [NR, 30K] Hawkins Fuller is a campaign manager with a PR disaster on his hands. The solution involves pretending to date none other than Timothy Laughlin.

Featuring: unrealistic portrayals of the life and job of a campaign manager for the sake of the fake dating trope.

🌼 the life of the world to come by @thewindyoubargainedfor | thewindyoubargainedfor [NR, 5K] Maggie flew to San Francisco to take care of her brother. She didn’t expect it to involve so many visitors.

🌼 Chances Are by @bluebellsinburbank | ConsumingLove (Bluebellstar) [G, 3K] After a family Thanksgiving, Estelle and Hawk talk. Then she meets Tim.

🌼 Control and desperation by @mailboxbutterflies | mailboxbutterflies [E, 3K] Now Tim was really confused. "H… Hawk I really need to pee—" "I said no. You want to be a good boy for me, don't you, Skippy?"

Tim nodded slowly as he started to put the pieces together. "Then hold it," Hawk repeated coolly.

Tim saw a familiar fire behind Hawk's eyes. The kind that suggested he would be rewarded if he obeyed. "Okay, fine." And then, "Or at least I'll try."

Or, Hawk makes Tim wet himself and then rewards him with shower sex.

🌼 Only Himself To Blame by @bluebellsinburbank | ConsumingLove (Bluebellstar) [E, 1K] An evening out leads to some fun on the floor.

🌼 this time imperfect by @startagainbuttercup | startagainbuttercup [M, 16K] 1986. Marcus arrives at Hawk's house and gives him a box. Marcus doesn't know that paperweight in the box is a time traveling device. Will Hawk change anything, given the chance? We'll see.

🌼 you lookin’ like a present by Saturn💠 [E, 5K, RPF] “You fly all this way just to fuck me?”

“Not just to fuck you,” Simon teased and pressed a kiss to Matt’s forehead. “And actually,” he added, tone suddenly a touch more serious, “If you want, I won’t be the one fucking you tonight.”

Matt’s eyes widened, and he scanned Simon’s face for any indication that Simon was joking. Finding none, he raised his eyebrows and said, “I’m listening.”

Simon visits Toronto for Matt’s birthday.

🌼 🪴His great consuming lovage*🪴 by @carnivalrow | nightfall_in_winter [T, 3K] Tim's potted plant has a story to tell...

🌼 Hold You In My Arms Again by @timothydavidlaughlin | mauralabingi [NR, 977] Old(er) Men Tim and Hawk (who are in love) at the gay club.

🌼 the coming of night by @alorchik | alorchik [E, 3K] March 1957. Hawk, exhausted from grappling with his own thoughts and emotions, seeks solace in alcohol at the Cozy Corner. What other thoughts might cross the mind of a desperate man?

🌼 Might Drive Me Crazy by @bluebellsinburbank | ConsumingLove (Bluebellstar) [NR, 1K] Hawk helps Tim get ready for a party. More or less.

🌼 So On We Go by TigerLilyBlue💠[G, 589] Maggie leaves for vacation, but it isn't easy.

🌼 forbidden joy by @redmyeyes | redmyeyes [NR, 440] Fellow Travelers drabbles.

🌼 Lost In A World Of Our Own by @bluebellsinburbank | ConsumingLove (Bluebellstar) [G, 1K] A stormy winter's night is the perfect excuse to stay home and cuddle.

🌼 Guide your light in by @cinnamoncountess | CinnamonCountess [M, 21K] A new patient, Hawkins Fuller, has been admitted to the neurological diagnostic clinic at San Francisco General Hospital. The circumstances of his hospitalization are harrowing and raise many questions. The patient's tragic story and the man himself quickly arouse the curiosity of young nurse Timothy Laughlin.

🌼 Friday Night I'm in Love by @doodlingawaits | DoodlingAwaits [M, 7K] Lucy Smith was a very busy girl.

She was meeting Danny, the cute bartender at her favourite watering hole, the Bell and Bird, on Monday.

It was going to be another date night with Jake on Tuesday after work, but she was thinking of ending this one.

On Wednesday, she had a “tutoring” session with Yannis at the café near the library.

Thursday was free, but she was sure her friend Katherine would confirm soon that her brother, Tim, was up for a date with her.

But Friday, her favourite day of the week and reserved only for the really lucky ones, was going to be the one night she had been waiting for since she was fifteen.

After a misunderstanding, Lucy accidentally double-books her date nights with Tim and Hawk. She tries to find a way around it, but it seems fate has other plans in store for these three.

🌼 Worship at Your Altar by @bluebellsinburbank | ConsumingLove (Bluebellstar) [E, 2K] Hawk visits Father Tim Laughlin.

💠 Authors: If your tumblr (or other socials) isn't linked, and you'd like it to be, let me know and I'll be happy to add it. Or, if you are linked, and you'd rather not be, please contact me to remove it.

[okaratauri]

I have an interesting AU idea for exfor, where Bishop and Skippy essentially switch bodies (canister and human) by elder intervention. If yall r interested I’ll write it out, here’s a super rushed written concept for it. Bear with me it’s really bad and weirdly written. I’ll fix it up later.

Body swap 

The Elder’s arrogant laughter echoed around the bridge of Valkyrie as Bishop dove for Skippy’s canister. Electricity arced across the surface of the can. Bishop ignored the warnings and cry’s of his crew, focusing only on the pain Skippy must be feeling. 

His fingertips brushed the can, electricity splashed up his arm as he grabbed it. Searing heat scorched his palm, blinding white light filled his vision and all went dark.

Skippy’s mind raced to fight against the Elder. His matrix slowly being pulled apart. He was dying, being ripped into pieces and reassembled. He vaguely noticed Bishop’s outstretched hand. Skippy tried to scream. He tried to warn his friend to get away.

He felt the flesh hit his canister. 

He was connected, as if his mind was melding into Bishop’s. He saw his friend’s concern for him, his courage, his terror, his anxiety. Skippy suddenly felt the crushing weight of responsibility that Bishop felt. Skippy found his thoughts wandering over to Adams. He a deep adoration for her swept over him. It was a level of protectiveness and respect he had never felt about her before.

White light filled Skippy’s sensors. 

He disconnected. He couldn’t feel anything. His control his power his subminds all gone. 

His hand hurt. 

Hand? He didn’t have a hand. He had a canister. Not a hand. Heat swelled in him. He hurt. Everything hurt. It was loud. He felt dry air and the smell of burning plastic touch him. 

The deck moved, or did he move? 

Simms rushed over to her commander, his bloodied hand dropped Skippy and the canister rolled across the deck. The Elder still laughing, her voice filling not only the air but their minds, their very being. She caught Bishop, he had gone limp. She brushed her sweaty hair out of her face, tears of frustration, rage, terror and horror streamed down her cheeks. 

“Colonel? Sir! What was that? Are you okay?” 

His face contorted, as if he wasn’t sure how to move. His mouth opened and closed, gasping raggedly for breath. He blinked, staring at the ceiling with his eyes wide open. The lights were blinding, why was he not squinting? Did the electricity damage his brain?

“Uh- Simms? I can’t get ahold of Skippy-“ Billby spoke, snapping the crew out of their shock. 

The Elder inhaled, then chuckled.

“See you soon.” It hissed before its presence was lifted.

Everyone let out a breath they had been holding, and chaos broke loose. Medics rushed in, treating burns and sprains, Colonel Smythe took over at Simm’s approval. She stayed with Bishop, whose eyes became frantic. He made a strangled sound, trying to speak. He lifted his arm and reached out to her like a child would. She took his good hand and tried helping him up. 

“Sir? Bishop?” She frowned, studying him closely. 

He blinked again, his expression contorted in pain. 

“B-bish-no” he sounded his words out. Panicked. Shakily. “No- no no no”

Tears welled up in his eyes, he looked scared, like he couldn’t tell what was happening to them. 

“Sir? Can you understand me?” 

“Sim-simms- Simms-“ he stuttered, glancing around, his body trembling.

“Got him!” Billby cried out on the speakers. “Uh- well sort of. Skippy’s matrix looks..it doesn’t look like him. Unless he significantly changed it. It doesn’t feel like-“

The speakers cut out, then cut back in, the ship’s computer’s started to short out, random icons being pushed, the display distorted and flickering.

“What-“ Billby expressed, there was shock in his tone as the crew froze in their place. “Thats not Skippy-“

The display cut in again, words began piling into it, quickly pouring through. At first it was just random words, jumbled together, some not even words.

Simms watched Bishop stare at himself in the glass. Mouth agape. He stumbled towards it, pressing his hands to the glass. He let out a strangled whimper. 

The display flashed, trying to capture the attention of the crew. The words grew in size. Simms gasped as she read it, then stared at who she thought was her commander. She glanced at the display again, which read:

“It’s Bishop. Where the fuck am I.” 

[promise-you-wont-write]

nowhere's home and i'm all wrong

Summary:

Hawk wants to make dinner for Tim in order to convince him that everything is fine when it's clearly not. He can only keep up the facade for so long.

Part of the Fire Island Universe

================================================

The sight of Hawk in the kitchen was almost sweet, invoking the kind of nostalgia in Tim that he hadn’t anticipated. So much time had passed and yet he could so easily find himself lost in that feeling just by being near Hawk. It was, in itself, a time far more complicated but that time made more sense to him than this now. They’d both been young and trying to figure out how to make their way in a world that didn’t want them. Tim wanted to fly in the face of it, love who he loved, while Hawk wanted nothing more than to be left alone. He thought he could earn that freedom, Tim would just take it. Maybe they’d both been wrong.

“Do you know,” Tim mused from where he sat perched beside a low table, glass of wine in hand. Hawk wasn’t drinking yet, and he looked all the worse for it. His hands were shaking so badly that it gave him trouble holding utensils, but he was trying to prove something to Tim or perhaps to himself. “I used to lie in bed and dream of places we could go to be together. Thinking you would be stationed overseas and would take me with you. The dreams of a young man.”

Hawk shuffled around in the kitchen, moving from stove to counter and back, never giving Tim so much as a glance. “I would have.”

“You say that now, but I know better. It was something you said to keep me happy, to keep me near, but if it ever became a real possibility it would have scared you to make that kind of a commitment. Taking me with you overseas? Really Hawk?”

“Sure, Skippy,” Hawk muttered barely listening. Tim laughed at the absurdity of the conversation, of Hawk trying to convince him that he would in fact have taken him. His memory was selective, perhaps after being pickled in so much vodka for the better part of a year.

“You can’t fool me anymore. I know you love me, I know you always have, and I know that nothing scares you more than how vulnerable that makes you. It’s okay Hawk. I don’t need it anymore.”

Hawk’s heart sank and he chopped the onion with a little more ferocity than strictly necessary to compensate. “Where did we go? In your dreams?”

Tim smiled happily and sipped his wine, allowing his mind to wander back to those beautiful waking dreams soaked in all of his innocence. “Sometimes France or Italy, but Greece, mostly. I always thought we could be free in Greece.”

Read the rest on AO3!

[the-girl-with-starry-eyes]

Geto Suguru x reader

Angst with an almost happy ending

Geto Suguru stood at the entrance of the Jujutsu Tech campus, looking as confident as ever. The last time he was here, he was a traitor to the Jujutsu world, but now he was back to declare war against the cursed spirits.As soon as he walked in, he spotted his ex-girlfriend, you, standing with Gojo Satoru, the strongest sorcerer in the world. Suguru couldn't help but notice how beautiful you still looked, even after all these years. He walked up to you with a sly grin on his face."Well, well, well, look who we have here," Suguru said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "It's been a long time, Y/N. You're looking as lovely as ever."You glared at him, your blood boiling. "What do you want, Suguru? You left us all in the past, and now you come back here to start a war. What's your game?"Suguru's grin widened. "Oh, come on, Y/N. Don't be like that. You know I always had a soft spot for you. Maybe we could rekindle some old flames."You rolled your eyes, trying to hide the fact that his words were making your heart race. "I don't have time for your games, Suguru. We have bigger things to worry about than our past .But despite your best efforts to resist him, you couldn't deny the spark of attraction that still existed between you and Geto. He had always had a way of getting under your skin, of making you feel both infuriated and exhilarated at the same time.As the two of you argued and flirted, the tension in the room grew thicker and more dangerous. You knew that Geto was not to be trusted, that his motives were suspect at best. But you also couldn't ignore the fact that you still had feelings for him, that a part of you wanted to believe that he could change, that he could be the person you had always hoped he would be.

(Time skippy)

As I lay in my bed, trying to process the events of the day, I heard a knock at my door. At first, I thought it was one of my teammates, but as I got up to answer it, I saw Geto standing on the other side.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, my voice cold.

Geto smiled. "I couldn't resist the temptation," he said, his eyes wandering around my room. "I wanted to see where you lived."

I rolled my eyes. "As if you care," I said, my anger beginning to rise again.

But then, I noticed something in his expression change. His eyes had landed on the old picture of us that I had hung up on my wall, and his expression had shifted from one of amusement to surprise.

"You kept that?" he asked, his voice suddenly soft.

I looked away, feeling my cheeks flush. "It's just a stupid picture," I muttered.

But Geto shook his head. "No, it's not," he said, his eyes still fixed on the image. "It's a memory. And a good one, I hope."

I felt a lump form in my throat as I looked at him. There was something in his eyes that I hadn't seen before - a vulnerability, a hint of regret.

For a moment, neither of us said anything. The tension in the room was palpable, and I could feel my heart beating faster as I wondered what was going to happen next.

But then, without warning, Geto turned and walked out of the room. "I'll see you around," he said over his shoulder, his tone neutral once more.

I stood there for a few moments, trying to process what had just happened. Had he really just left like that? Had he really just flirted with me, only to back off when he saw that I still had feelings for him?

As I lay back down in my bed, I knew that I still had a lot of questions - and a lot of unresolved feelings - about Geto. But for now, I was content to let things be. Maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for us to be together again. But only time would tell

[imaginarycyberpunk2023]

MACHA RICHTER // STATS and BACKGROUND

Full name: Macha Richter

Gender: Cis Female

Path: Ex Corpo, now works as a Netrunner for hire

Date of Birth: May 30th 2035 (42 years old in 2077)

Sign: Gemini ascendant Cancer (das complicated)

Hair: dark brown, but colored blue

Eyes: brown-green

Height: 5’8” (173 cm)

Cyberware: Kiroshi Optics MK.3, Tetratronic Rippler MK.4

Weapons of Choice: Quickhacks (prefers non-lethal), has one (1) smart gun (Skippy)

LI: Vinnie ❤️

Likes: dancing, music, communicating, meditation, poetry, braindance recording (spicy stuff for Vinnie only, sorry)

Dislikes: people who don’t communicate, too much stuff, clutter (she has lots tho!), she’s a recovering co-dependant so she has not time for bullshit anymore

Love Language: Words of Affirmation

Personality: a wise smart-ass with a heart of gold who can sometimes overwhelm people with her bluntness

--

Macha is a netrunner, she's originally from Germany (hence her German last name) - her parents were transferred to the NUSA branch of Arasaka when Macha was 12 years old - all three of her parents are psychologists - her parents divorced when Macha was 3 years old, her mother leaving her with her dad. She has 4 siblings, being the oldest sister. She grows up in a privileged corpo environment, and working at Arasaka is a natural thing that does not really feel like a choice but rather the expected path to take. She works in their department for psychological research, first as an analyst, later as a netrunner, protecting the data. She gets together with a high executive who she meets through some corpo event. Not a very loving relationship, but again, did not feel like a choice to her. She wanders through life, feeling decisions are made for her, not by her.

Her traumatic experience - and what leads to her leaving the corpo world -  is tied to the Relic loosely (she's not a V) - but her partner takes the baby from her womb, threatening to kill her if she doesn't give it up, to experiment for what would later become the Relic technology. She does not give in but is sedated and operated against her will.

After leaving, she works some odd jobs to get by and get back on her feet. Until she decides it's time for revenge, she decides to work as a netrunner for hire for anyone who's willing to attack corpos in any way possible. She wants revenge on her former partner, especially, but she takes her time with it because she can not have her plan fail. She wants to see him dead.

[theboysfromaustin]

December 12, 2010

“Alright, meet in front of Potato Club in an hour and a half?”

“Such a weird name for a good restaurant.” “They do make delicious potatoes.  Alright, Ian - be good.” “You be good, Kazuo.” “Why aren't you telling Gav to be good?!” “Because he's a saint.” “Saint Bernard…” “And leave the mall Santa alone, we'll leave you if you get picked up by the mall cops.”

“Fiiiine.  No sense of fun.” “I'm a good lawyer but even I have limits,” Ian turned, disappearing into the throngs of people.  Gav cocked his head, “Don't cause trouble.” Kazuo stuck his tongue out, Gav taking the opportunity to kiss his nose.

Kazuo grinned, “Alright.  Good luck out there, skippy.” “Aye-aye,” Gav saluted him and melted into the crowd.  Kazuo cracked his neck, surveying the mall, deciding where to go first.  He opted to wander, deep in thought.

He liked to people watch.

He knew people liked to watch him.

He was used to it, as long as they weren't assholes.  He wasn't bothered by kids staring at him, not anymore.  Kids were kids - they were learning how to be human.  He wasn't quite sure what he was buying for Ian, Gav, Anders and Maureen.  They were all extremely important to him, and he needed to find the perfect gifts.

Kazuo kept to the side, moving along the wall, out of the way of people who were in a hurry.  He scanned the storefronts, deep in thought.  That first Christmas…

He'd gotten Ian a polished hardwood box with a photo of them on it, a nice 747 model kit for Anders, and a set of ornate flower earrings for Maureen.  Kazuo was pulled from his thoughts by a child yelling.  His eyes landed on a young boy and his father.  They were off in a corner by Dillard’s.

The black-haired man stopped, watching, taking in the boy's body language.  

Kazuo tensed up.

For a moment, he saw himself…

And his father.

“Daddy, that hurt!” “You don't know hurt!” Kazuo saw red, and was moving before his brain could stop him.  The man raised his hand, the child cowering.  If he does this here, how bad is it at home?!  Nobody helped me…I can help him!

The blow caught Kazuo in the face, and he stumbled.  “Get out of my way!” The man’s voice echoed, cutting through the holiday din.  Kazuo recovered, “That's your son.  How can you justify this abuse?” “This doesn't concern you, freak!”

“I had a father like you…all he knew was hatred…” Kazuo turned to the crying boy, “Are you okay?” “I-I want my m-m-mom…” “It's gonna be okay, we’ll…” 

Kazuo saw the flash of a knife.

Gav had flinched, hearing the shout.  But he had a bad feeling, so he began to weave through the throngs of people.  Ian, browsing through FYE, was oblivious.

Kazuo gasped, lunging to the side as the knife flashed past him, cutting his shirt, a thin line of blood appearing.

“He’s got a knife!” 

Panic.  People began to run.  Kazuo held his ground, “You'd stab a stranger in public.  What are you doing to him in private?” Gav was almost knocked over, but kept his feet.  Ian looked up from the DVDs, hearing shouting.  Immediately, his stomach went cold,

“Oh, cock.”

“You little shit.  Why'd you have to get involved?  Couldn't you just piss off?!” “Nobody helped me when I was a kid.  I'm not going to stand by and let you beat your kid,” Kazuo held his ground, looking for anyone to come help, “Stay…back….”

Gav appeared at about the same time a mall cop did, “Kazuo?!” “Hey!” The security guard ran at the father, who immediately dropped the knife and flew through the department store, leaving his son behind.  Kazuo slumped against the wall, shaking.

“Are you okay, mister?”

The boy looked to Kazuo, worried.  “Yeah.  Just a scratch.  Are you okay?” The boy shifted , staring at the ground, “He does this a lot…the court says I gotta see him…” “Kaz!” Gav ran up, “What happened?!”

“Kazuo!”

All three looked up as Ian sprinted around the corner, “What the hell…” “How'd you know I was involved?” “Lawyer instinct, and…” He stopped, “You're bleeding.” “I'm okay.  He tried to stab me for protecting his kid.” “Stab…?” Ian stepped backwards, hearing the rushing of blood in his ears.  His field of vision narrowed.

The mall cop came back, swearing, “He fled…hey…” “He hit me…he hits me a lot,” the boy said softly, “My name is Adam, and I-I-I want my mom…this man helped me.” “Kazuo Mitsuwa-Gabriel.  I couldn't just stand by, I…went through the same thing as a kid…”

“You did good, Kaz,” Gav touched his shoulder gently.  “We’ll take him from here.  Are you okay?  Can you come back, give a statement?” “Just a scratch.  C’mon, boys.”

Ian stared at the floor, Gav taking his hand.  They all sat, waiting for the police.  They arrived quickly, Kazuo speaking calmly.  When he finished, he shook his head, “I just…saw myself.  If I can help just one kid, it helps make up for what I endured…” The boy threw him arms around Kazuo’s leg, “Thank you, Mr. Kazuo!”

“Of course.  Hey, you guys got a pen and paper?” He was handed some, and wrote quickly, “If your mom needs a lawyer…Ian here is the best.  Take care of your mom, Adam.  She's lucky to have you.  Boys, we should probably head home.”

Ian silently handed Gav the keys to the Aston Martin, the redhead giving him a questioning look.  It was all Ian could do to put one foot in front of the other, taking up a seat in the back of the car.  His heart was racing, bile in his throat.  Kazuo sat next to him, hand on his thigh, “Ian?”

He inhaled sharply, then again.  Again.  He inhaled rapidly and repeatedly, hyperventilating, tears spilling down his cheeks. Ian gasped, sobbing, “Oh god.  Oh god.  No…no…no…”

Fear.  Anxiety.  Anger.  Sadness.

Gut-wrenching terror.

Gav leaned over from the driver’s seat, “Ian?” “Honey.  Honey…” Kazuo rubbed his side, “What's wrong?” Ian's chest heaved, eyes darting back and forth, “You…you…” “I…”

“You could have diiiiiieeeeeed!”

Kazuo stared down at his torn shirt, the line of dried blood across his chest, “But I…. didn't…” Ian stared at him, breathing rapidly, “I can't lose any more people.  No.  No.  No.” Kazuo wrapped his arm around Ian, “It's okay.  I'm okay.”

“The nightmares…all the nightmares…”

Kazuo knew.

He had nightmares.  Ian had nightmares.  Terrible, terrible nightmares.  He remembered Ian’s absolute terror just after the accident, when he was bleeding out, Ian desperately holding off his arteries.  Ian had told him about the nightmares, nightmares where Kazuo died.  Nightmares where…

Ian was alone.

—--

The clock read 12:17 PM when Ian rolled over from a fitful sleep, acutely aware of the empty spot next to him. He let out a long, shuddering sigh, closing his eyes against the hot tears he could already feel welling up.

Kazuo had been dead for over a week now, and Ian had never felt more alone in his life.

His friends and Kazuo's co-workers had all been by since the funeral to bring by food, which he'd been able to eat very little of. Everything he tried to eat tasted like dirt.

His general appearance was unkempt, his hair a disheveled mess, bags under his eyes. And then he remembered something that turned his stomach - today was the day Kazuo's cremains were being delivered.

Burned him, they burned him…He let out a soft whimper, the tears beginning to flow, I can't believe I'll never hold him in my arms again, never kiss him again, never be able to tell him how much I love him….

He gave a soft cry that rose several octaves into a wall. That wail turned into a scream of absolute anguish, "KAZUO!" He buried his face into the mattress, his body wracked with violent sobs.

He screamed with every inhale, punching the mattress.l, "No! My Kazuo! Bastard! You took him from me!" His eyes were wide, but unseeing, in a blind rage, "Why didn't you kill me, too?! It would have been better!" He pressed his face into the sheets, sobbing violently, body shaking. He sat up shakily, head bowed, face soaking wet with tears.

"I….I…" He slumped back down, "My love….my Kazuo…" He whimpered, going completely limp, laying there, staring at nothing for a long time, feeling absolutely helpless.

There came a knock at the door, and he sat up, already knowing who it had to be. His heart immediately crumbled at the thought, but he knew he had to go answer it.

Stumbling out of bed, he dragged himself to the front door, and opened it, "H-hello?" "Yes, I'm here from the crematorium, delivering one…..Kazuo Mitsuwa to you." He held out a box, and Ian took it wordlessly, tearing up again. "I'm sorry for you loss, sir."

"Thank you," Ian said quietly, his voice raspy. He shut the door, staring at the box. It was so….light, only a few pounds. He felt bile rising in his throat, and he stumbled forward, careful to not drop it.

He made it to the bedroom, and slumped down onto the bed, staring at the box. Hands shaking, he opened it. Inside was a black urn, with Kazuo's name, date of birth, and date of death on it. Below was a plastic bag filled with ashes.

Immediately, his face crumpled, and a low whine issued from his throat, rising in pitch. He burst into tears, picking up the bag of ashes, cradling it gently to his chest. He set the box and urn on the floor, and curled up on the bed.

"Oh, Kaz!" He stared at the bag, and brought it closer to his chest, "Can….can you still hear me where you are?" He got no response. "I don't want you to be gone. I want you here….with me," he was pleading now, whimpering like a child.

No response.

"My love…." The anguish was evident on his face and in his voice. Ian inhaled sharply, a shaky, shuddering breath, "I don't want you to be gone, I don't want you to be gone, I don't want you to be gone!"

He sat up, wheeling around in bed, clutching the bag to his chest in one hand. With a scream borne of pure grief, he lunged forward, striking the wall with his other fist.

Pain immediately shot through his arm and up to his shoulder, enraging him further. He struck again, and again, screaming incoherently, lost completely to despair. "GIVE HIM BACK! GIVE HIM BACK!" His punches left bloody knuckleprints on the wall, and soon he became too exhausted to continue, hand and fingers broken. But he ignored the pain.

He slumped over on the bed, still clinging to Kazuo's ashes, crying half in sadness, half in anger.

A knock came at the door, but he couldn't get up to get it. His heart beat unsteadily in his chest, each beat reminding him that he'd lived where Kazuo had died.

The front door opened. "Ian?" It was Maureen, come to check on him. He groaned, not wanting her to see him like this. He swallowed hard, "Hey…" She walked into the room, concern evident on her face.

Ian shut his eyes.

"Ian!" She gasped, seeing his injured hand, and the cracked, bloodied plaster on the wall. Ian inhaled sharply, then immediately broke down, "I can't do this, Maureen!" She sat on the bed next to him, putting one arm around his shoulders, bringing him in close.

He sobbed into her shoulder, clutching Kazuo's cremains to his chest, "I'm so lost…" "Ian, Ian...Kazuo wouldn't want you to be this sad…" She spoke softly, trying to calm him down, stroking his hair gently.

Gradually, he stopped crying, quietly slumped in her arms, "Do you remember the first time you met him, Maureen?" She nodded sadly. "At the hospital.  You were so in love." Ian smiled, "He was perfect…." His expression darkened.

"We didn't even get two years, Maureen." The tears immediately returned. "He wasn't even 23 yet." She embraced him tightly, "I know, Ian, and I know he wanted to spend his entire life with you." "We were gonna get married once it was legal…"

"And you would have been great husbands." Ian gave a long, shuddering sigh, looking at his broken hand, which was now beginning to hurt, "I….I think I fucked up, Maureen. Once I had his ashes, I just got so sad and angry..." Maureen gently took the bag of ashes from him, placing them on the bedside table, "But it's not unfixable. I'll take you to the hospital."

At the word 'hospital', he stiffened, "That's….that's where…" She leaned in, softly kissing his forehead, "I know, but I'll be with you. I'm not just going to leave you there alone."

He nodded, still in a daze, "But….Kazuo…" "I'll help you put his ashes in the urn when we get back. He'll be safe in there." "A….alright…" He swallowed hard as Maureen helped him to his feet.

She helped support him as he walked, thoughts racing through his mind, the most prominent being:

How do I live without Kazuo?

—--

“I love you.  Not going anywhere.  I'm okay.  I'm alive,” Kazuo buried his face in Ian's chest, “See? I'm here.  Sweet Ian…” Gav was quiet, watching them.  This was a shared trauma between them, not him.

Ian sobbed into Kazuo's shoulder, Kazuo letting him cry.  Silently, Kazuo pulled Ian into his lap, stroking his back.  Ian whimpered, taking in shaky breaths.

“I know how much you worry.”

“I'm sorry.  I..I just…” Ian's shoulders slumped, “The accident…really fucked me up…” “I understand, baby.  I appreciate your concern.  C’mon, give me a smile,” Kazuo gently touched his chin.  Ian raised his head, a small smile on his face.

“There we go.  You know what?  We should go get some food.” “Here…” Ian pulled off his sweater, giving it to Kazuo, “Wear this.  I'll mend your shirt when we get home.” Gav smiled, watching the two.  Their bond was solid.  “So…” He turned the car on, “Where are we going?”

“Melting pot?”

Kazuo grinned at Ian, ruffling his hair.  Ian chuckled softly, “I'd complain about you eating cheese…but I think you deserve all the cheese in the world.” “You did good today, Kaz.  You're that kid's Christmas angel.” “I couldn't let it go on.  I’d do it again.” “Your mum would be proud.”

Kazuo hugged Ian close, “Gav, lean over here, get in on this hug.” Gav shook his head, grinning, awkwardly joining in.  They both felt Ian relax.

Nobody was going anywhere.

[ftmpupglacier]

from the archives: the pup formerly known as skippy [andy, 2018]

One morning after his husband Robby had left for work, Andy had fucked me on the couch before he had to leave too. It was brief but hot, and thoroughly enjoyable.

After he’d filled me with his cum, he was looking at me thoughtfully. “When was the last time you came?”

“Days... Sunday morning? When you got me off.”

“How bad do you want to cum?”

It felt like a trap, and I was immediately wary. “I don’t know...”

“I think I’ll keep you needy, then.” He got up, grinning wickedly.

“But...! Daddy!” I followed him to the kitchen, pouting and whining a bit. “My dick is so needy...you didn’t even touch it at all...”

Another big grin spread across his face. “I know.”

Then he left the room to get in the shower, leaving me panting and squirming in my chair.

After he finished, he wandered out to the kitchen naked. I squirmed at the sight of him - desperately wanting to touch him, to rub myself all over him like a cat, to worship him with my mouth.

I slid off my chair onto the floor, on my hands and knees, and looked up at him pleadingly.

“Ohhh...is puppy begging?”

I arched my back and wiggled my bottom playfully.

He grinned. “You can cum - if you lick peanut butter off my dick first.”

I blushed a little. “Yes Daddy…”

Andy went to the cupboard and got out the jar of peanut butter. I was blushing furiously as I waited on my knees.

He walked over to me, cock liberally smeared with peanut butter. I sat up on my knees and began to lick at him obediently. He picked up his phone, and after a moment I heard the sound of a video beginning to record. I didn’t falter in my task, though; he kept his phone on me for a minute or so before he set it down and began to fuck my mouth.

Andy came in my mouth and I swallowed obediently, cum mixing with the lingering taste of peanut butter. He gave me a soft kiss and grinned at me. “Have a good day, baby. Cum hard for me.” He turned away, then back again. “And I want you to send that video to someone.”

I hurried downstairs to my bedroom as he left, blushing furiously.

[thetravellingvagrant]

Day 7: In Which Everyone's Ugly Children Can Die For All I care

I had planned, this morning, to get out and about into Seville nice and early to undertake a self-built walking/cultural tour of the City; my body, however, had other ideas. Not satisfied with simply being fooled, like a chicken, into thinking that my alarm had gone off at the wrong time, due to the efficacy of the rooms blackout blinds, when I awoke, properly, an hour later than I'd intended, my body screamed at me with every movement I made. My muscles hurt, my bones ached and I was all grumpy with no one to point it at, the fault for my agony lying squarely at my own feet. Who knew dragging a backpack half my own weight around for two hours in the rain and getting savaged by a mule would take it out of me so much? Not me. It was a genuine surprise.

I quickly - perhaps too quickly - dismounted the bunk bed on which I had been sleeping - a novelty in a private room, but crucially, not a nice one - wrenching all my joints out of place in the process and set about planning my day. 

Google didn't offer much in the way of interesting ideas. The museum of illusion looked quite cool, though at 17 euros a ticket with an average time spent there of under one hour, I decided instead to just look at photos other people had taken while there online which, in many ways, I found to be the same, if not better, than actually going. 

Beyond the museum of illusion, which has to be the name of a Sega megadrive game, I couldn't find much to do. At least nothing that would be doable with under 15,000 steps, which was about 16,000 steps than my body could take, today.

I decided then, begrudgingly, to switch today's plans with that of the next day, tough it out and go to the aquarium. God I'm brave.

The Seville aquarium was one of the few things I had planned to do before embarking on this trip. I had spotted it on the map during the planning stages of the journey and, when I did, made an audible “ooh” noise. It was supposed to be quite a big, cool one, according to reviews and while the Vasco Da Gama had been largely disappointing

Apart form this fuckin' guy.

I had high hopes for this lad which was advertised, promisingly, as having “a decent variety of fish”. 

I set out into town - taking the metro this time; I'm not a fucking idiot, which was unpleasantly crowded, though with a journey time of just over ten minutes, it was difficult to mind that much.

What I *did* mind, however, was knowing that instead of the hideous trek I had undertaken the previous day, I could have just hopped on the tube for twelve minutes and spent the rest of the time having a nice hot chocolate in a cafe, rather than been pushed off the road by an irritable ass. Oh well. You live and learn, I suppose. C’est la vie. Sunrise, sunset. I'm still absolutely fucking furious.

On the other end of the journey, I realized that to make it to the aquarium, I would still need to walk through a very big, nice park. Which I did. See above re: me being brave.

The park was reet nice and I had a reet nice time there, looking at all the nice greenery and that

Oooh...

Having a good old gawk at what maps has told me was called “the old big tree”

They should call this old large tree!...No, big is better.

Having a quick wander around the, to be honest, a little oversubscribed plaza de españa 

...Admittedly there aren't a lot of people in this photo, but there were loads there.

And enjoying a quick half-lunch on a nearby bench before ambling, finally, to the aquarium. By the time I arrived at it's gates, it was past 1pm.

“Oh, no!” I mumbled to myself, remembering the exquisite five hours I had spent at the Genoa aquarium last year and one very shit half hour in its cafeteria, forcing down a dry bread roll, thindly dappled with only the very scantest idea of cured meat, “only four and a bit hours til it closes! I hope I've left myself enough time to enjoy the experience!”

I checked in, using my pre-purchased ticket, thereby skipping the substantial queue that had formed at the reception and stepped boldly into the aquarium itself. And an impenetrable wall of people. It was fucking rammed.

I hadn't expected the aquarium to be so popular an attraction; particularly not so on a Wednesday afternoon, but popular it was, to the point of becoming absolutely maddening. 

A veritable sea of slack jawed, witless, dead eyed dullards stood before me, taking photos of the deep sea fish with their cameras’ flash enabled, banging on the glass to get the fishes attentions and occasionally just shining their phone torch directly into the terrified faces and ill-equipped eyes of the startled creatures. People were banging on the side of the ray tank to get them to swim over through sheer curiosity then stroking, squeezing and in one case - and this is genuinely true - trying to feed one a piece of popcorn. It was insanely stressful and upsetting to watch.

Yes, the air was thick with cunts, alright and this quickly presented another problem: I couldn't fucking see anything. So absolutely swarmed with twats was the place that I would genuinely have to wait in a queue-like system for up to five minutes but typically two or three, before I could get anywhere near close enough to a tank to even get a glimpse of its contents. Then, when I did, I had to face the tuts of disgruntled parents, furious that my shoulder was appearing in the selfie they wanted to take of their child standing next to a carp or whatever stupid shit they were doing.

That was the worst thing, by far. The selfies. Parents were, as I say, literally queuing to get to the front of a tank, not to marvel at the wonder of deep-sea nature, up close, but instead to plonk their ugly, disinterested child in front of the enclosure then get a picture of it with mum, then a picture of it with dad, then a picture of them alone, before moving into the next exhibit to do literally exactly the same thing.

Fuck. Offfff.

It was a resoundingly depressing and infuriating experience, all round. Sighing, I sped up my pace and skipped a few tanks in order to get slightly ahead of the thickest throng of people (both in terms of their numbers and intellect) and managed to get maybe one percent more relaxed now they were behind me. There were, however, another group a bit ahead and the aforementioned group hot on my heels, which meant that I had to sort of stutter my way through the place, not wanting to go so fast as to run into the group ahead, but not wanting to languish too long in case the one behind caught up. It was effing nightmarish. Also, and I swear this is true, one toddler literally shit their pants mid queue and their parents finished queuing, and took two selfies before going to change their child. What the *fuck* is that?

Still, I did get a lovely picture of a jellyfish.

Eventually, I had seen, through the screens of other people's cameraphones predominantly, everything there was to see in the basement of the building. I ascended the staircase back to the first floor, steeling myself for more cuntery to come and…found myself in the gift shop. That was it. That was the whole thing. I had been there for 55 minutes, paid 15 euros for the experience and had 0 fun. I was beyond relieved to leave - 0/10; may God have mercy on all of their worthless souls. I was even too angry to steal a magnet. 

I left them, fuming and disappointed, both in the aquarium and society at large and sat in the park to eat the second half of lunch. I also met a nice cat while doing that, which made things lots better.

Well done that gato

I farted away to a nearby supermarket, not.willing to undertake the bullshit walk to the Lidl “nearby” my flat, again and…it was closed. That was odd; it was only half past two… 

I tried two more. All closed. I checked Google. Apparently it was something called “constitution day” which meant everything would be shut. Apart from the aquarium, I suppose, although I contest it should be shut, condemned and demolished immediately.

Quietly resigning myself to it likely being sandwiches for dinner last night and breakfast, lunch and dinner today, I sighed and moved on, with little else to do and my body really needing a bit of rest, I decided to return home for the day, making a hail Mary stop at a nearby tesco-metro equivalent on the off chance it would be open. By some miracle, it was, and I even managed to find a nice little self contained Caesar salad wrap box, fill of all nice green vegetable things which, if I'm totally honest, I think my guts have been crying out for for some days.

I then left and returned home, once more, totally ruined, to have a reasonably nice dinner, a bigger nap than I intended followed by a smaller nibble than I intended and my third sleep of the day. This one semi-permanent. As in I slept for the night. I wasn't in a coma. 

[grits-galraisedinthesouth]

@skippyv20 Ah, now that makes sense---- Confusion!! I so appreciate you for taking the time to reply because I often feel confused which in many ways proves your point😉.

Over the years she has put out the most ridiculous stories from the copper tub, to the bizarre gender fluid kids or paint or whatever-----then the dozens of twisted headlines for her twitter bots and then for noprah.

But you describe a method to her madness as an agent of chaos. She planted "pr" stories only to quickly shift the narrative just to confuse us. We became like little confused victims.

A few years ago, Harry's friend told us how Meghan would play hot and cold mind games with him: Harry, I can't live without you or the other extreme----I actually don't want you nor do I need you. She effectively drove him crazy.

I guess that also explains the reason she simultaneously retained multiple pr representatives: to play mind games with Harry and with us as well.

Her propaganda machine is ripped from the pages of nazi propagandist Joseph Goebbels:

"If you repeat a lie often enough, people will believe it, and you will even come to believe it yourself."

Sadly I think Meghan would actually feel a sense of pride knowing she shares some talent with Goebbels. She is a terrible actress, but she's not afraid to lie and willing to persist long after she's caught.

Ultimately her scheme (known to her as a fairytale) doesn't have a happy ending because satan is the author of confusion and the father of lies. There are no happily ever afters for people who work for demons. Inventing dirty laundry (amongst everything else) and then using it to control her victims has put her on the road to perdition. Sadly Harry and all her "friends" have chosen to accompany her. Meghan Markle is a real succubus.

Thank you Mrs Skippy for your kind words. Thank you for giving this international community a place to wander, ponder, laugh, disagree, cry, reason, rant, grieve, share, grow, support...

I don't recall you ever passing judgment on any of us for how we've felt about this bloody mess or this bloody woman. You inspired a movement of truthers----seekers and sharers and no doubt you've paid a price. An unconventional calling, but a true ripple of hope. I personally appreciate your encouragement and your patience.

On a final note, people are worried about the coronation, but I suspect it is the least of all the brf's worries.

They are walking a litigious minefield with Meghan and Harry. Meghan has always thought of herself as rachel zane. But Harry actually confessed that they spend large sums of money in legal fees for the purpose of "reconciliation," and they publicly demanded "compensation." The unmitigated nerve of these hoaxers!

Not only are they suing the tax payers for lifetime IPP status, they want damages and probably some kind of monetary allowance from the family. In the past 6-7 years, Meghan has burned untold millions upon millions of dollars in legal and PR fees alone, and it will never be enough.

As an American I would say that if the family and the institution are unable to protect staff & family from abusers like Harry and Meghan, then the public should demand that they pause their advocacy for related causes like mental health and domestic violence until Charles & parliament can get the house in order.

Harry revealed what we knew: his chosen career path is to destroy free speech, his family, and their king & country. He deliberately made himself a threat to national security and now blames wounded veterans for his irresponsibility.

In my humble opinion, (like Elizabeth Holmes and Jussie Smollett) the institution should turn Harry and Meghan over to the criminal justice system, and allow the family to keep calm and carry on.

Hi Skippy. TRG (the royal grift & zirconia) on YT stressed that it was important to archive copies of their noprah conversation because they would ultimately pretend it never happened. I didn't believe her.

A few YouTube links that I recently shared here on Tumblr (proving Harry is a liar) are now broken because as of last week, the channels have been deleted. These channels have been active for 2 years to promote their lies and suddenly they're just gone.

I don't get it. The entire world knows what they all (Meghan, Harry, noprah, gail, tyler) did so why bother deleting videos? We even have the transcripts as evidence.

I realize they are liars and master manipulators but I sincerely dont understand the method to this madness.

The world knows what they all said for 2 years. Gail attended the ripple of nope awards and said the brf is not racist and meghan & harry don't think they are racist.

Obviously if Harry thinks the "institution" is racist or unconsciously biased he should give up all BRF titles/associations and remove himself from the line of succession. No one with integrity would continue to be associated with a racist institution or family.

Marketing himself as PRINCE Harry and using royal monograms on stationery and homegoods (see the doormat) is evidence that Harry has ZERO credibility.

Separately and then together, Meghan & Harry told Noprah & the entire world that at some point while Harry & Meghan were dating, a British Royal Family member told Harry that the dark skin tone of any children born from their union would impact the child's privileges, titles & royal status.

Also, Oprah asked Harry whether or not he fled the UK because of racism and Harry answered, "yes."

Serious Question: what is there to be gained by hiding the video?

Hi! Thank you! Great post….the reason they want things shut down, is because in time…it will be forgotten….that is why it is so important when people post articles…not only the link, but the article itself. Those words they can’t erase. They will though say, if it is an article, that the reporters put that in, and it’s a lie. The reason Diva has been able to get this far, is she denies, denies, denies. Every article she puts out, she has at least 3-5 different versions. This keeps people guessing…gaslighting is her friend. She plays with people’s minds. No one knows what is true, and what isn’t….the more they keep talking, the more proof we get as we have the info to back it up! Also, I LOVE your blog! You are an amazing researcher….thank you for all you do!🙂❤️

[fellow-travelers-fic-recs]

How do I love thee, let me count the weeks...

Fellow Travelers Valentine's Celebration: Week One Round-Up

Week One Prompts: Slow dancing “Sing for me.” Favorite song that makes you think of them

✨ Be sure to show your appreciation for the authors’ hard work with kudos and comments on the fics after reading!  ^Authors: if your tumblr (or other socials) isn’t linked, and you'd like it to be, let me know and I'll be happy to add it. Or, if are linked, and you'd rather not be, please contact me and I will remove it.

Works below can be found in this collection, except where noted (*).  

❤️ You’re the one I want to go through time with* by @in-our-special-place | Cupping_Cakes [E, 773] 'Don't you need me, Skippy?' Hawk said softly.

'I have you,' Tim replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

🧡 The Way We Danced Till Three by @jesterlesbian | captainquint [M, 2K] 

“There we go,” Hawk said, as he found the jazz station he often liked to tune into. Billie Holiday crooned through the static, singing They Can’t Take That Away From Me. Hawk tilted the bottle toward Tim in offering, who took it and tossed back a large swig before coughing and spluttering on the sharp taste of the alcohol.

“I don’t know how you do that,” Tim said, shuddering and sticking out his tongue.

Hawk laughed and took the bottle back, placing it on the desk near the radio. “Lots of practice.”

“Dance with me, Skippy?”

💛 With Your Kiss My Life Begins by @startagainbuttercup | startagainbuttercup [G, 785] 

4 times Tim and Hawk dance.

Part 1 of FT Valentine's Month: how do I love thee, let me count the weeks...

💚 Hold You In My Arms by @bluebellsinburbank | ConsumingLove(Bluebellstar) [G, 1K] 

Tim entices Hawk to dance with him, and then sing for him.

Part 3 of Bravery | Part 1 of FT Valentine's Month

💙 One Desire by@lovebunnie | space_kid [T, 1K]

Tim instinctively stepped towards Hawk, before stopping. “Hawk, I don’t-“

“You said music doesn’t sound the same,” Hawk cut in. “I figured… it doesn’t have to sound the same. Let’s make it sound better.”

Part 1 of Fellow Travelers Valentine’s Day 2024

💜 Unforgettable by @justviwriting | justviwriting [T, 1K]

Hawk and Tim dance together for the first time.

Part 4 of My Fellow Travelers Fanfics

🩷 Cheek To Cheek by vexinganthony^ [T, 2K]

An extremely fluffy one shot about tim singing at hawk’s behest, written for the fellow travelers valentine’s month event.

Part 1 of valentine’s month prompts

💗 Anywhere You Wander, Anywhere You Go by Anonymous

As he was now, the man he was now - Tim could not deny the longing in his heart. The need to close the distance between them again, to take his heart back into his arms.

Or, another cabin husbands dancing together fic.

Thanks to all the creators for your wonderful efforts, and to the readers for taking the time to enjoy and share these fics!

Thank you to @fellow-travelers-events for hosting this event. Prompts for the remaining weeks can be found here.

Ao3 Collection 💗

[prince-rat]

rahhh

(etsy)

[bcrgondy]

closed starter for: @slumberpcrty​

   after an eloquent speech ,     and a silent nod of approval from his father  (   who now had a very solid reason to be ,  in fact ,   drowning him in the pool as suggested  )   sebastian resigned to avoiding the party guests  ----- vipers ,    as he so like to call them ;   all of which neglected to give his mother a single call after the papers were signed .   no matter that she was living the time of her life in bali right about now ,    it still left a bitter aftertaste in his mouth . 

“     ---  you okay?    ”    daisy’s stroking his hair in rhytimic motions  ,   an arm laced around his chest  ,    asking questions she already knows the answers to    ---- &   he’s slumped in the couch ,    safely nestled between her legs  ,      drowsy eyes heavy with slumber . “     hmm   [   ...   ]    you’re here ,   aren’t you skippy?     ”     it’s supposed to annoy her  &   it succeeds  ----   always does .   she strikes him with about as much force as a feather ,    and in turn he yanks at her arm ,    dragging her closer .   it’s a thought :   maybe if he smothered himself in affection  ,    his eyes would stop  wandering   where they shouldn’t .    “    you wanna --  ”    they’re laughing when whatever he was gonna say is promptly interrupted by   the two lovebirds   of the night ,    who’d seemingly finished saying goodbye to their herd of guests .   “   ah .     if it isn’t the  couple of the hour !     ”     sebastian announces  ,    loud and cheery ,    but somewhat groggy  ,     shifting on the spot as daisy recoils .