#amazing resume decent other materials

[multiversegideons]

Honestly if my grad school applications aren’t enough, that’s on admissions and not on me

[trppdnrbbr77]

Another story I wrote a while back.

-It all started with the package-

It was a Friday, and the delivery person dropped off a package at the front door, from one of those foreign online order places. Got the box and took it inside. When I took the box inside I got a text message on my phone that read, "I have hacked your bank accounts and Identity, as you may notice the package you have in your possession right now ordered using your credentials that I have created for you. To keep your accounts and identity from being exposed and your life into ruins, you need to do exactly as instructed... more to come".

"What in the world", was my first thought. Then came another message, "BTW I have also. hacked your security cameras and have others installed that you do NOT know of any actions to disable or unplug these devices will result in a NON-Comply and find all exposed, as for now take the UN OPENED package and place in the back of your closet... more to come".

Since I am married and have a decent life, I did not want to be hacked, or anything come. from this, it is just a package for now. So, I took the package and hid it in my closet. A text came in, "good job, also DO NOT TELL ANYONE, might be a good idea to delete these texts as well so no one finds out... I am watching", follow by a pic of my wife sitting on the couch watching tv.

About an hour later I got a call from the wife, "Hey my mom just won 2 tickets for a Mother Daughter Cruise! It leaves on Monday; do you mind if I go? Work said I have PTO days that I can use, will be 5 days coming back on Friday". "Amazing...hmm", "That sounds like a fun time, enjoy". "Thank you so very much, Mom is excited!".

She got home and started packing, we had a great weekend and by Sunday night she was packed and ready for her trip. I was so nervous as to what is going to happen next, and what in the world is that package about.

Monday morning, she left with her mom, I work from home, so I waved goodbye and logged into work. Then about Noon, the text came in. "Great job so far, glad you two had a great weekend but now the real fun starts! You need to pull out the package and open it, go ahead". I went to the closet with Shakey hands, sat at my desk and opened the package.

Things got weird. In my home office my personal laptop turned on and a chat window opened, the camera to my computer was enabled showing me and the room.  "Hello there, this will make for much easier conversation". I looked back at the package and found zip lock type bags, "Open 1 by 1 and lay each out to show the camera". As I opened each baggy and laid out, it was clothing made of a shiny Latex type of material. Full body suit from neck to toe with built in gloves. and socks, built in Breasts, thong with a plug in the rear and a built-in condom with a hose coming out, a hood with only two holes for eyes and fake shiny rubber lips for a mouth. There were also wrist cuffs, a thick collar, and straps that I could not tell.  Looked like they would go around the ankle and bottom of a shoe, and a pair of large goggles like virtual reality, the final baggy had 3 tubes labelled 1 to 3.

Chat read, "here is your new outfit, get ready! Follow the video on how to wear", then a link to a video titled "How to put on a Latex Catsuit" appeared.

The video instructed to strip down naked and apply the first tube all over your body. Careful, this removes hair, then shower to rinse. I was doubting and hesitated, next a picture of my online banking appeared with a winky emoji. That was enough motivation for me, I jumped in the shower, covered with tube number 1 and rinsed, it was a little tingly, but all body hair fell down and out the drain. I got out of the shower and pressed "play" to resume the video. Next was to cover body with tube 2, it was very slick. Followed by putting on the thong, pushing in the plug and the condom over my private, next "catsuit" beginning with the feet going up the legs, the catsuit had a 3-way zipper that started behind and came through the front up to the top of the neck, I was to pull the top 2 zippers apart from the 3rd, fishing the tube from the condom and zipping together. 

Video instructed to put lubed arms and hands in then smooth out to fit. It seemed like this would be very tough to do without the Lube. Once done, was told to leave the hood off for now and zip up the first zipper all the way up leaving 3 inches from the top of the catsuit. As I zipped the catsuit became very tight making me suck in my stomach, it was a little tough to breath by the time the zipping completed as instructed.

Then the video ended. "You might want to look in the mirror" read the chat. "Whoa!" aside from having a man head, I had amazing curves like a woman! Chat instructed, "now go into the bathroom, to your wife's makeup drawer". I knew where this was going, "Make up your face like this" a picture and "how to apply makeup for crossdressers" appeared. 

Using the brightest shiny red lipstick and darkest eye shadow, the task completed. "Time for the hood", followed by another "how to" video. I put on the hood and zipped up the zipper of the catsuit over the bottom of the hood sealing in the zipper for the hood as well. The hood had a small gag that inserted into my mouth made it hard to try and talk. "Lastly put on the wrist cuffs and collar". 

"Another piece coming", with that the doorbell rang, "You will need to sign for this one". I hesitated big time for this one, something took over my laptop and a picture of my current attire. with full makeup, covered in what I now know of as black shiny Latex, I tried to take over, but it was locked and with my Latex gloved hands made it difficult to use the computer mouse. The cursor hovered over send and began to circle. "OK, I will do it", doorbell rang again. Email deleted.

With a huge lump in my throat, I answered the door and there stood the delivery guy, he looked me up and down with a stare of lust, "Can you sign for this package please?". I signed with a scribble and took the package. "Thank you very much Miss..." while I slammed the door and locked it. The latex was very tight making it tough to quickly walk back to my office. "Wow, you are a lot braver that the others...", "what others" I thought, "Never mind, open the box", not wanting to get into it with my "chat mistress" I complied.

In the box were boots that had the highest heel I have ever seen that went up to my thighs, "You guessed it, these are the footwear", follow by "How to video". I put them on, zipped and tied the top. They were super tight and squeezed my legs by a few inches. "Time to seal your fate", take the last tube and spread it over all your zippers, folding the outside portion in covering the zipper.

"Now put on the collar, and wrist cuffs". Completed that, "the High straps go on like this", video of course strapping in the boots around my ankles and around my feet. "You are becoming a pro at this". Now I was sealed in, the last tube was super glue, by this time had dried creating a seamless head to toe shiny black latex doll, I only know this name because of the picture with title on in on my computer screen.

"You can go back to work now, once you finish cleaning up after yourself, make sure to take the trash out... more to come", with that my personal computer and work computer went back to normal. I took a minute to gather myself and proceeded to put the makeup bag back, collapse all the boxes and put the world back to normal. This was tough to do covered in compressing latex with 5-inch-high heel boots on. Realizing the boxes would not fit in the trash inside, I got another lump in my throat, "looks like I will have to take these outsides to the recycle bin". 

Now I can "hack" this myself by putting on sweatpants and a hoodie, but my gloves would show and the "clack" of the heels, "I have some work gloves and slippers will try that".  No message from the "chat mistress", but I quickly found out why. It was 100 degrees outside in the summer sun! That task completed.

I went back to work sealed into my new "business attire", completed working, soon it was 6 'o clock and I was super hungry. I went into the kitchen looking around thinking how am I going to pull this off? With that a text message, "Dinner is served!", the doorbell rang. It was getting really creepy and not sure how this keeps happening. I checked the door camera with my security app and there stood a food delivery girl, with a large drink. She was not going anywhere.

"Oh man" I went to the door an answered, she gave me the stare, I grabbed the drink, and she said, "can you sign the receipt?" I signed and closed the door.

The hole in the gag of the hood fit the straw of the drink perfectly and it was a delicious chocolate tasting milk shake. 

For the next couple of hours, I became comfortable with my new attire, it was squeaky and arousing.

It was getting dark when I got a text from the wife, "Hi honey, we boarded our cruise, I love you talk soon, cell service is pretty bad here, but we will talk soon". 

Minutes later "Chat Mistress", "Time to meet", there came the lump again.

"Put on the goggles and go outside, it is dark now so no one will see you". All my outside "Smart" lights turned off. Go to the mailbox and with your hand behind your back stand in front of it. A notification pinged on my phone alerting me of a pending transfer from my account with a pic of it ready to text the wife. Not sure if at this point, I would have resisted but this just made it easier. I did as instructed, when I stood in front of my mailbox, the collar locked on, wrist cuffs, high heel cuffs locked together trapping me. Then the goggles went black blinding my vision.

At this point my hands were cuffed together, ankles cuffed together by my mailbox blind folded, gagged, locked into a skintight latex catsuit, in 5-inch heels. Then came the next part of my prison, the plug in my rear started vibrating giving me the craziest sensation I have ever been through. I tried to make a sound but all that came out was Mmmmmmph followed by a small electric shock from the collar!

It was turning me on, then I heard a car pull up, someone got out, put a leash on the collar around my neck, and pulled me in. Could tell I was buckled into a car seat while we drove off. I tried to wiggle but no movement while fully sealed.

The goggles started displaying, "drone trppdnrbbr77 initializing". The hood had tiny speakers over the ears, and I could hear a heartbeat thumping sound. I now learned part of what was going on. 

A video of my wife talking to me, "Hi honey, so you know, our last weekend was amazing together thank you for all you have done for us. But I had to take the offer from DroneCorp. By giving them another Drone for their "global cause", I can retire, don't worry you will have an amazing life, plus from the pictures, you a pretty sexy! We may have one last fling if they let me, but by then you won't have any control. Mom and I will make sure everything will be ok when we get back from our Cruise. Love you!". 

Then the video shifted to my work email, I started to wiggle and moan with shocks coming from the collar and vibrations from the plug. It began to type, "To Whom it May Concern, this is my resignation effective immediately, due to unforeseen circumstances, my wife will be taking over all of my estate, here is the power of attorney" the signature from the delivery receipts!  The email addressed to my manager and HR, followed by a click of the send button.

As our ride continued, the screen went to videos of other drones, and several types of deep sounds, then I faded away... 

This testimony of trppdnrbbr77 was delivered by DroneCorp it may be true or not, but do you have what it takes to join our cause? Do not worry about trppdnrbbr77, he...err... it will be fine.

"Ding Dong there is a package for you...".

--TrppdnRbbr77--

[3vwritesthings]

“What you want you shall receive.”

Contains: Suggestive content/making out.

(Gn reader)

————————————————————————

After Eula and Amber had headed down the mountain a bit for an ice bath leaving Bennett fast asleep in his chair, you turned your head to see Albedo carefully sketching something on a piece of paper attached to his clipboard. The way his wrist moved so gracefully along its surface was mesmerizing, almost magical; pencil making neat, clean strokes with every movement. Albedo looked up from his work, noticing you in your seat.

“Need anything?” He asked, teal eyes meeting your own.

“I was just wondering what you were drawing.”

He moved closer to you, clipboard and paper still in hand.

“Oh, Um. I’m creating a table.”

He showed you the amazingly detailed sketch of a table he’d drawn.

“I don’t have a decently large tables here in the camp, so I was going to make one using alchemy as I did with the chairs.”

You weren’t an alchemist, but you still found the way that it worked quite interesting. A while ago, Timaeus had taught you a bit of the basic things you could do with it, the way it worked.

You watched Albedo craft a long, medium-sized table out of his sketch with materials previously collected. Its design was simple, but all the same beautiful.

Seeing you observe his work in such amazement made Albedo happy. He smiled softly, getting up from his seat to move the new furniture to the back. On his return, he grabbed a book of the shelf and sat down once again. Before opening the book he’d grabbed, he noticed the fire’s light glowing onto your face. Attention now drawn to you, Albedo started to discreetly look at the rest of your features. Your face, hands, eyes, and your neck. You looked so innocent, so beautiful in this moment, fire blazing onto your perfect image.

Unbeknownst to Albedo, you were also looking at him as well. When Albedo had (seemingly) opened his book and read it, your eyes drifted to his soft, blonde hair. It shimmered brightly like the snow.

When you looked back at the teal irises, you locked eyes as he leaned in closer, slowly closing them. You kissed each other deeply, his lips touching your own softly, lovingly, passionately. Breaking away the two of you gasped for air, resuming the kiss moments after. After a bit, Albedo started to slide his tongue into your slightly open mouth, exploring it. The wet muscles clashed, fighting for dominance until his hands pulled you closer to sit you on his lap. You could feel his hard member as you shifted to position yourself more comfortably. The movement released a low moan from the alchemist. Hearing his soft voice was like music to your ears.

“Albedo…I want you.”

“Then what you want you shall receive.”

———————————————————

I wrote this 6 months ago so I didn’t know what else to add since I forgot the prompt.

Haha…oops.

I don’t know why the end is double spaced between lines but oh well.

Anyways, hope you enjoyed it. Feel free to ask for requests in Askbox.

Stay hydrated and eat <3

[maddie-kungs-emporium]

Invisible Sun Review: I Bought The World’s Most Expensive Tabletop Game

If you need basic background, Invisible Sun was created by Monte Cooke, a game developer with a decently impressive resume, and is the project that he’s most passionate about. I don’t mind Monte Cooke, and I don’t hate the Cypher system, which is his main system that he uses for many of the games he designs. He’s not my favorite designer, and if you told me a game was designed by Monte Cooke, that wouldn’t influence my opinion very much. I think he has good ideas but the translation of those ideas from his head into mechanics aren’t always the best.

So, Invisible Sun sounded awesome. An amazing tabletop game which would supposedly be some kind of transcendent experience based on real-world occult traditions? I was absolutely hooked, and didn’t mind at the time that the price was $95 for a PDF. I bought it, and what did I think? Well, after reading it and going through it as much as possible, I reached my final conclusion:

It’s okay. I should clarify that artists have the right to decide how their own media is distributed. If someone wants something to only ever have one copy, or to be $95, or, god forbid, distributed as an NFT, that’s prerogative of the creator. So, I think it’s okay that Monte Cooke did that, though I will say I really hope that Invisible Sun doesn’t become a standard for TTRPGs. The barrier of entry is already too high, and most people in general are not willing to pay $95 for a PDF or $200+ for a physical copy. Granted, in terms of raw material, it makes sense, but people are going to be driven away from TTRPGs if that becomes the norm. So, because of that, I’m never going to charge more than I have to for my games. I understand that Monte Cooke had a vision and wanted to prioritize that vision, though, and that’s something he’s allowed to do. Let’s get into how much I actually like the game, then.

Mechanics

Invisible Sun uses a slightly modified version of the Cypher system, and it’s honestly nothing to write home about. I think it works well enough for the game’s purposes, and there’s some interesting character creation combinations that can work fairly well. There’s certainly a few “weird” options that are fun, and a lot of the ideas are really neat.

The big draw of the game is the magic system, and I’m going to say that there are some elements of the magic system that are better than others. In terms of the five Orders (I’m including Apostate here even though they’re not an Order), I would say that the ones that work the best are: Weavers>Vances>Apostates>Goetics>Makers On the high end, Weavers can essentially create whatever spell they need on the fly, and their spell casting, in my opinion, is honestly the best in the game and I wouldn’t mind taking inspiration from it for other ideas. On the low end, I’m still not entirely sure how players are supposed to deal with the Maker’s mechanics.

Overall, I would say the mechanics are solid, and I really like how some of the aspects work, even if there are some rough patches. I think that, weirdly enough, the mechanics are actually the best part of Invisible Sun.

Lore

I would honestly say that this is the aspect that disappointed me the most. The lore isn’t bad, certainly not the worst I’ve ever read, but for a game that bills itself as being as revolutionary as it does, it just seems... underwhelming. I will confess that I’m not very involved in the whole “secret mysteries” thing, but if I’m being honest, I just found it by and large to be sort of like Mage: the Ascension mixed with a little bit more abstraction. Granted, I think there’s better backing for the game than Mage: the Ascension, but that doesn’t help the fact that the lore just isn’t as revolutionary as it bills itself to be.

Gameplay

This is the main point where Invisible Sun falls flat. The lore and mechanics are fine and dandy, but I honestly couldn’t tell you what the core gameplay loop even is. A lot of the kind of “freeform mystical mysteries” games like Unknown Armies, Mage: the Awakening and Mage: the Ascension have this problem, but the thing about those games is that there’s usually something motivating characters to act. For Mage: the Awakening, there’s the threat of the Abyss. For Mage: the Ascension, there’s the conflict between the Traditions and Technocracy for control over reality. For Unknown Armies, there’s the threat of crippling poverty and oppression. I couldn’t tell you what that factor is for Invisible Sun.

The issue I have with Invisible Sun is that the antagonists are barely present. I guess that the war that Satyrine, the main city, got involved in kind of serves that function, but a.) players operate off the assumption that the war is over, and b.) players have very few reasons to care about the war. There’s a few other  antagonists as well, but my problem is that the game puts most of the work for creating an engaging story squarely on the GM’s shoulders. 

Recommendation and Score

Overall, Invisible Sun is an okay game. I think that the people who would enjoy it most are old-school Mage: the Ascension fans looking for something a bit more mechanically robust. Given that I don’t fall under that demographic, I won’t give it a discretionary point, leaving it with a relatively low score. I honestly can’t justify the price to anyone, but if you’re curious, feel free to support Monte Cooke. I don’t hate the game but it honestly doesn’t live up to the hype.  Rules: 2/3

Lore: 2/3

Gameplay: 1/3

Discretionary: 0/1

Overall: 5/10

[angelicichor]

Wait. Requests are open? Fuck yes. Then I request Thomas bending me over stuff and fucking me into next year! Art or words man it don't matter. Its gonna be fantastic either way .My U R G E S are out of this world right now.

U… I like you. I might actually do some more….. F I L T H Y art of Tommy-boy, but I ain’t home now so that’ll have to wait. For now however… 

N//SF//W

Thomas being a bit too eager… but in a good way.Female reader for this one… sorry folks.

Enough

Summer has been a bad season in Texas, for obvious reasons - heat, dryness and dust, oh god the dust, it was everywhere, sticking to everybody’s sweat covered bodies, making it unbearable to go shirtless, but also impossible to go with anything more prude on.

In a way you had a hate-love relationship with this season, you’ve always lived in colder places, so the warmth of the sun was murdering you and seeing Charlie with his big ol’ belly pouch and old man tits out, covered in white, untamed chest hair was an ENORMOUS problem, but at the same time tis’ was the season for drinking refrigerated sodas and eating copious amounts of ice cream that Luda Mae made herself and gosh darn it was delicious.

But the most amazing stuff wasn’t any drink or a snack, no, it was the full-blown dinner date that was Thomas, abandoning his usual shirt and tie to don a simple black tank top, that clung to his chest almost perversely, showing off his robust bicep, beautifully shaped triceps, as well some of the powerful muscle of his back, his tan skin glistening with sweat as he bent over a car’s hood, opening it to check what in tarnation was wrong with Hoyt’s sheriff car, the old man being too damn lazy to do it himself, god bless him for that.

With the apron gone you also had a wonderful view of Tommy’s firm legs and thick ass, stretching the material every time he’d bend over to reach inside the machine. It looked so damn squeezable, but you knew better than to interrupt the man at work, knowing that Luda would be over you in a second, scolding you for not working yourself. You loved her, but how could she NOT understand that her son was a god damned gem and you NEEDED to take a closer look at him.

He seemed oblivious to your hungry gaze coming from the porch, unaware how his form made your heart flutter and your gut heat up thinking of all the wonderful things that behemoth could do to you and that fact made you FURIOUS. It’s not like you didn’t try to initiate things either, just every time you tried anything Charlie would bring in some new meat or Luda would need her son to go to the station with her to help unpack some deliveries or Monty needed to be carried off the sun, too tired from the heat to move on his own.

Little to say, you were frustrated, but a chance to take revenge on this beautiful, dark haired bastard was coming and oh so very soon.

The thought brought a devilish grin onto your face, an expression that made Charlie go “You alright, girlie?” above you and you snapped to attention. “Ya lookin’ at my nephew like he the next one in line for dinner.” He laughed and you puffed at him, standing up with a slight blush, dusting off your jeans.“Sorry, sir, just thought of something funny.” you lied and he cocked an eyebrow, not really believing you.“U-huh, sure, darlin’. Ya ready to go into town? Got the money?” he asked and you smiled warmly, lifting your purse up and shaking it slightly. “Good, let’s go.” 

With that you almost jumped towards the old pick-up that waited right next to Hoyt’s sheriff car. Not able to resist the urge you took a swing and slapped Tommy’s perked butt, making him rise in shock and hit his head on the metal above him. You laughed, before getting into the truck and closing the door, so he wouldn’t pull you out. He most likely still could, but instead he rolled his eyes, massaging his head and shaking it shortly in disbelief before going back to work.

Once in the town you quickly parted with Hoyt, running to find a decent, still functioning clothes store, a woman on a mission.

Your plan wasn’t enacted until the next morning, however. For once you’ve been happy that Thomas always woke up way before you, leaving you to your own devices. That was his biggest mistake yet.

The day was pleasant, even with the sun shinning down on all of you mercilessly, there was a nice breeze going through, something you all hoped would be there to stay. You were very helpful right from the morning, shining with enthusiasm when told to hang the laundry, feed the chickens in the coop Charlie and Thomas installed some time ago, and then come back to help Luda Mae make some cookies.

And you probably though you were cute, wearing that baby blue summer dress that was just a bit too short to be innocent, with a bow in front, slightly to the side, as well as those stockings that hugged your tight just right, making it look so squeezable, with those flat sandals that made you look just so much shorter and more adorable. 

And you’d also think you were being sly, brushing your hand across Tommy’s forearm while passing him on the way to the coop in a rush, as if the chickens were going to escape, or when you heard his boots stop in from of the kitchen entrance and ‘dropped a fork on accident’, bending down with only your back, giving him a peek at your white, frilly underwear, and acting like you totally didn’t mean to lick that batter of the spoon in such a seductive way.

But he knew what you were doing, realized it the moment he has seen your outfit and those hungry eyes you gave him unconsciously, but Thomas was a patient man. He let you play your game, refusing to give in to your advances, so you’d be forced to come to him and ask properly for him to take you, enduring the constant sting of arousal building in his body when he would notice you, going around, completing your tasks, acting like you don’t notice him. He was doing a fine job, too.

That is, until you up and tripped, falling to your knees right before him and looking up at his masked face with those huge, bashful eyes, a blush creeping it’s way onto your cheek.

And Thomas could swear he heard something in his head snap. 

You tried to get up, but before you could rise one leg you’ve been swooped up by your neck to met his eyes. There was an anger to them, but it wasn’t what made you shiver, it was the true, unfiltered, primal lust that resonated from them, as well as the sweet smell of hormones and frustration making your head spin and leg pull up slightly, as your hands helped the rest of your body not suffer from the Butcher’s hold.

The next time you blinked, your whole body has been shoved onto the kitchen table, Thomas’ free hand throwing multiple objects onto the floor, creating a lot of noise that made your anxiety spike, but he couldn’t care less, leaning into you, one hand still keeping you in a choke-hold, the other gripping onto your tight, giving it a good, firm squeeze. His forehead pressed onto your lightly, his eyes focused on yours, a small smirk rising on his lips, followed by a hungry lick, delight hitting him hard when you shivered just at his hot breath hitting you.

With a rushed motion he pushed one of your legs away, the other giving way for his muscular tight, pressing onto your heat, you hips bucking against it in reflex, wanting to feel the man’s warmth.

His free hand shifted from your tight to your chest, rising with your heated breaths, stopping at your right tit and massaging it roughly, pinching your nipple the moment it started hardening, a quiet laugh moving his body when you squeaked at the sensation, your hands moving form his forearm to your mouth, pink painting your cheeks. With that the hand holding you down moved, trailing your body down, until it reached your heat, then pressing against it and rubbing it up and down slowly through your already soaked panties, his index finger pressing them in to reach deeper inside you. 

Your hands stifled your whimpers and moans as he teased your chest and entrance, seemingly not phased by the fact that anyone could walk in on you two at any second, that Luda Mae was supposed to come back to resume making the baked treats, but you were slowly forgetting about all that too, too focused on how good his hand felt on your covered cunt, how his eyes pierced yours, so close, warning you not to move a muscle if you wanted him to be nice and you feared what would happen if you disobeyed. 

Soon enough one of his fingers slid your panties to the side, making you feel vulgar, even more that you already did, exposed to the world on the table, but all the anxiety you felt melted into nothing, as one of his fingers slid inside you, unannounced. It moved slowly, parting your walls and teasing your nerves, making you tremble at the feeling, insides clenching with need, allowing him to please you, even more so when a second one joined, picking up the speed, already making you feel almost full with how thick and rough they were, hitting you exactly where you needed them. 

Your trembling fingers kept collecting your sounds of pleasure, hiding your face from him once he lifted his head away from your face, to look down at your squirming form and he wouldn’t have that, leaving your breasts and pulling your hands above your head, your lips pressing in a line as a reaction and you saw the satisfied smile on his face. 

A third finger squeezed it’s way inside you, making your head loll back in shock, a weak moan leaving your lips and that was enough for him. 

Slowly he pulled his fingers out of you, making you whimper at the sudden emptiness, eyes closing just for a second, just to look back at him with a small pout, silently telling him how rude he was to do something like this to you, but his devilish smile let you know that he didn’t care, bringing his fingers, still covered in your slick to your face with a silent order, to which your lips pressed together in an act of rebellion. 

An act that he quickly ruined, pushing his hips against you, spreading your legs further to accommodate his width and making you gasp with the pressure of his hardened erection, still covered with his jeans, on your needy cunt. The moment your lips parted his fingers slid in and his eyes warned you not to bite, so fearfully you obeyed, letting your tongue collect your wetness, with a deep flush on your cheeks. 

Finally his fingers retreated, leaving you panting below the giant, eyes closed in shame. 

You heard a clack and some shuffling and just seconds later something warm and slick pressed against your entrance, forcing your eyes open, wide in terror as you struggled to get your hands free, but to no avail with Thomas’ hand still holding them down like an iron shackle. 

“No, no Tommy!! Somebody will see, please not he--!” ignoring your pleas he shoved himself into you, the power in his thrust making you scream out, moving the table slightly. Your legs pressed up to your chest, spasming slightly, as the thickness of his cock spread you wide, making your muscles tighten, a long whimper escaping your mouth, your body unable to relax around him, your only saving grace being your wetness and you scolded your brain for bringing the phrase “curiosity killed the cat” to your head.

The pull of his hips burned, sending spiking pleasure throughout your whole body, mixed with a hint of pain, and the second thrust was not kinder, again earning him a sweet whimper, as you desperately tried to stay at least a bit quiet, but as his speed slowly picked up, reaching a steady rhythm, making the leftover things on the table clatter, you couldn’t handle being silent anymore. Every time he hit your end, you moaned, screamed, cried for him to go faster, harder, and he happily obliged, making you see stars over and over again, your hands struggling in his grip, body lifting off the table in a fit of pure ecstasy, letting him ravage you, use you however he wanted, you brought this upon yourself, after all, and now you were going to pay dearly for your teasing.

Just as your mind was becoming a mess you heard a crack and panic returned to you, making your walls clench against his dick sharply, making him groan, his free hand pressing onto your hips, hard enough to leave bruises, but you noticed another crack and realized something horrible.

“To---Thomas!!” You screamed and his eyes shoot up to yours, making your skin errupt in goosebumps at just how feral he looked. “Th---The table!! The table’s gonna!!” You warned and he growled, both of his hands lifting you up to his chest, still kept full of him, until he pulled out just to slam you on your belly onto the kitchen counter, kicking the breath right out of your lungs, and plunging right back into you, his furious hands reaching to the walls as he kept himself steady, pounding into you aggresively. One of them pressed your head to the wooden surface, before grabbing your hair and forcing you up and into an arch, the other following to keep you steady by your waist, forced to look him in the eye.

You felt your climax building, quickly and he didn’t protest when your fingers found your swollen clit, circling it furiously, desperate to reach that peak and you saw him smile, his lips mouthing the word “COME” and with your eyes shooting wide open you did, your walls collapsing on his cock in an almost painful manner, but he forced them away, seeking his own release, ridding your orgasm out as you screamed his name repeatedly, only strengthening his desire to destroy you, finding the strength to pound you harder, fuzzing your mind, making you a babbling, begging mess, moaning as your head was slammed back onto the counter and adoring the dizziness that came with the sudden motion.

His fingers digged into your hips, keeping you still and the stutter in his last harsh thrust was the only thing that warned you of his collapse, warm strings of thick come filling you up, making you moan in a higher pitch, your insides twitching against him, reaching another, smaller orgasm alongside his and your body gave out, trembling, shaking, exhausted, whining when he pulled out, cum slowly dripping out of you and onto your oversensitive thighs. He didn’t move you, instead putting his dick back into his boxers and zipping his pants back up, buckling his belt and letting you get up onto your shaking arms before wrapping his strong arms around you, his leather mask pressing onto your neck, so he could kiss it’s nape and you could swear you heard something similar to the words “I win” escape him, but he wouldn’t... Yeah, no, he would and you elbowed his belly weakly in protest, to which he rumbled a laughter, nuzzling into your hair, both of you covered in sweat.

Then again you felt your body being lifted and eased onto his shoulder, your hands shooting back to your skirt to cover your slightly exposed pussy as he carried you out of the room, grabbing one of the already prepared cookies off the counter and biting into it with a cocky smile.

“Tommy!” you heard Hoyt’s voice from the living room and you hoped he couldn’t see you, one of your hands covered however much of your face it could. “Ya done fucking over there, ya bastard?” The old man laughed and the embarrassment of being caught made your shake in Tommy’s grasp, even more so when he just.... NODDED. “Good! Get me some meat when you’re all cleaned up, boy! We need to get dinner started.” Hoyt replied and you died slightly inside, knowing damn well that you would not survive this evening, mentally.

It didn’t help that after the shower your body refused to function, protesting to the treatment your monstrous man has given it, so Tommy had to carry you down to the table, his chest just swelling with pride and you HATED IT.

Still, even with Hoyt’s rude remarks... It was worth it.

[chiyuukiaru]

In regards to the newest chapter of Haikyuu!!, can I say how happy I am that Furudate sensei hasn't shown any "quite decent players, probably could go pro, but anyway they didn't for this or that reason" in pro careers?!

It would be so unrealistic and looks more like fanservice than a solid storyline.

Of course, by me saying that, it means I do have a list (?) of people that I think will and won’t go pro. Yes, I know, unless I am Furudate, I can’t really pinpoint who will be pro athletes and who won’t be. But I believe, we as dedicated fans, can all at least make some sensible guesses about that.

Now, moving on. The players that I actually think would go pro so far have appeared in manga as pros (cheers me!). As for the rest of them, I’ll try to break it down by teams coz it’s easier and tidier. Mind you, I’m not athletic and can’t do any sports at all. So technique-wise, I can’t explain much. I go by intuition and deep thinking for pretty much all of my guesses below. So if you’re going to read my analysis (?) or opinion (?), please don’t be too harsh on me just because I can’t give you the logical reasons behind it. Maybe, I should apologize in advance for this.

Karasuno (brace yourself, it’s gonna be long)

Kageyama is the first one. I honestly can’t see any other career choice for him except going pro and finally be a coach after he retired. Kageyama has been playing and practicing volleyball the longest, since he was 7 (Hoshiumi too). And this is the reason why he’s so far ahead of everyone. Also, he’s even worse than Hinata in school, so there’s no way he went to university to me. So, pro it is.

Aside from Kageyama (and Hinata, but I believe I don’t need to explain Hinata to you coz we’re currently the viewers of his journey to be a professional player), I can only see Nishinoya going pro. For me, he stands in the same category as Kageyama. And he’s not going to university with a brain like his. Not trying to be rude or belittling him, but I just can’t see Nishinoya voluntarily enrolling in college. Other than that, Nishinoya is one of the best Libero in the series. It still bothers me even to this day, that he wasn’t invited to the Youth Camp with Kageyama. But I think I understand why: there are just too many great Liberos and The Youth Camp wouldn’t be able to hold everyone there. Besides, there’s the “positioning after receiving thing” that Kageyama had to tell him. Who knows if Nishinoya has been doing that for so long?! An observant scouting staff or professional coach would definitely think it’s a minus point. And there’s the suspension he got too. Idk about other countries much, but I know how Japan really takes care of their background and portfolio. His suspension may be not for something dangerous like drugs, but it definitely marred his resume for the Youth Camp a bit. But Nishinoya has moved past that now and pro career is not so impossible for him.

For the other 2nd years: Tanaka, Ennoshita, Kinoshita, and Narita, they probably won’t go pro. Tanaka has a higher chance though, and deep down I want him to shine more in volley, but I still don’t think so. Tanaka & Kinoshita look like they will go straight down to labor working right after graduation. Ennoshita & Narita were in class 4 and can be assumed as pretty smart, so college and office working probably.

Tbh, I actually can see Asahi be a pro. But, he’s a bit tricky. It all depends on whether he got scouted after Spring High or not. Coz he already chose not to go to university, so it is not impossible as well. As for the rest of the 3rd years, no. I think they have other things (or a career) that they want to pursue and they are smart enough to do it (Daichi and Suga were both in college preparatory class). Though, I would love to see Daichi graduating from sport science or something and go back to Karasuno and be an assistant coach hehe.

For first years, I don’t think Tsukishima & Yamaguchi will go pro. Same like Daichi & Suga, I believe they both have a dream job in their mind, hence why they chose to go to university. Ofc, they can go pro after graduation, but I have little faith in it. Now, I think Tsukishima wanted to be an archaeologist or something along the line (all those dinosaurs!!!), I would be so happy if it turned out to be true.

Aoba Johsai

Except Oikawa, I honestly don’t think the rest of Seijoh will be pros. Maybe Iwaizumi or Kyoutani, but the others, not so much. On a side note, Oikawa (and Hinata) is the most surprising outta the rest of the Haikyuu!! characters. I mean, I never would’ve thought that he’d fly to Argentina and join a league there. I always think he’d join a Japan team. But I love the element of surprise, so I guess it’s fine.

Datekou

Aone has the best chance. Simply because he has all the necessary skills. But he’s so quiet I can’t guess anything from him. I could be wrong, really. Futakuchi and Koganegawa aren’t so bad either, but Idk tho.

Johzenji

I have no idea, truthfully. But I’m leaning more toward the opinion that no one from the team will continue playing professionally.

Kakugawa

I really really wish Hyakuzawa going pro. He’s blessed with the height and also power. With enough practice, he’ll be great. But that’s just my wishful thinking. I can’t really guess him, similar to Aone.

Shiratorizawa

Ushijima is another one of my “definitely going pro people”. He’s just a complete package. He has the sense, the height, the power, the… everything. It would be a big waste for him to just stop. And Ushijima is a volleyball baka too, so he loves the sport too much to not continue playing.

I also think that Goshiki might try to get into pro teams too, maybe after completing college. I don’t think he’d stop just like that. I mean, after Ushijima retired, Shiratorizawa never went to National again. I think that hit him hard. Especially because Ushijima left the team on his hand as the next ace. I would really love to see Goshiki improving himself and kinda get a revenge by getting much much better than before. But, if he doesn’t go pro, it won’t be really disappointing to me. After all, Haikyuu!! always tries to be as close as possible to real life, and in real life not every good player can be pro.

Tendou is a no no. He said he’d stop and he wouldn’t lie about it. Shirabu is confusing, but I think he’d stop in high school or maybe university. He’s not a bad setter, he’s good, but even within Shiratorizawa, his ability is not better than Semi. He was the starting setter just because he was able to blend into the background and be a support for Ushijima so he could shine. So, I really don’t think he got scouted or still pursuing Ushijima.

For the rest of Shiratorizawa, we didn’t see much of them so I can’t make clear guesses. I apologize once again.

Nekoma

Nekoma is also a bit confusing. But, I could see Lev go pro. He’s not super duper amazing per se (I say this based on his performance up to National, idk how he is now okay), but he has the talent and all those height and power. His progress is fast too. I think it’d catch the scouting agents’ attention.

Now, Kenma definitely wouldn’t go pro and we’re shown that XD. Surprise though, I always had a headcanon that he’d be a pro gamer or secretly doing stock trading. Just never thought he’d be a YouTuber and a company board member (or is it CEO?!). Imagine my feeling when my “simply headcanon” became real.

Kuroo is a bit like Asahi, but I honestly believe he is really smart and probably wanna do something else. I wish Yaku would go pro coz he’s a really top caliber Libero (and I would really like to watch his rivalry with Nishinoya grow more), but he didn’t really show much “ambition” for professional career for me. The rest of the members wouldn’t go pro too imo.

Fukurodani

Now, as much as it breaks my heart to say this, I don’t think Akaashi is going pro. He gives me “doctor/scientist/basically high and smart position vibe” somehow. And he’s very clever as well (all those thinking he does lmao), I think he’d pursue something else. So volleyball stopped in high school or university for him. Idk about the rest of Fukurodani though. I definitely wanna see more of Konoha, but the chance is small.

Bokuto >>> pro for me. Been that for a long time. He doesn’t strike me as academically gifted, but I can be wrong ofc. He could: a) straight going pro after high school or b) finished college then go pro. Either way, he’s definitely pro athletes material.

Inarizaki

Atsumu (I’ll call him Atsumu to differentiate him with his twin, even though I prefer last name tbh) also >>> pro. The reason is pretty similar to Ushijima/Kageyama/Bokuto. He’s just that good. Oh on this, I really should mention that I believe all the Youth Camp candidates are going to be or already pros (this by extension means Sakusa & Komori from Itachiyama).

For the rest of Inarizaki, the ones that will be pro are Aran and Osamu. Aran is awesome and one of the best 5 aces in the nation. I know he would get scouted. Whether he go pro after high school or after finishing college, idk. But he will be pro. I would riot if he isn’t. And for Osamu, it would be really cool if he goes to a different team than his twin and they will fight it out on court.

On a side note, Kita is one of my favorite characters and he’s the one that from personality and mindset, can resonate the most with me. But tbh, I’m certain he’s not gonna go pro.

Kamomedai

The only Kamomedai members that would be pro for me are Hoshiumi and Hakuba. Hirugami is high level himself ofc, but idk, I didn’t get the pro ambition vibe from him, similar to Yaku.

Hoshiumi is another one in my list that I think would be revealed as a pro. He’s small, yes, but there’s a wing spiker in Japan National Men’s Volleyball Team that’s around 178cm, and I believe Hoshiumi has grown around this height too. I mean, Hinata has reached 171cm, so it’s possible that Hoshiumi has grown taller as well. Besides, he’s really really really good. He has one of the highest overall skill after Kageyama. He only lose in power coz well, he’s smaller. After all, there’s the promise he made to Hinata. So a showdown between them will definitely happen. So, I think it’s safe to assume Furudate will make him a pro athlete.

Hakuba >>> same vibe as Lev and Hyakuzawa. He’s tall af. Not many people can reach 2 meters (especially Japanese), so he’d bring an advantage for any pro teams.

Oh, I almost forgot to mention Kiryuu. He’s definitely going pro (or he already is?). I really really like and admire him. His character is so wholesome and amazing, he deserves the best. And that translates to the best career too. I would be so disappointed if he isn’t a pro.

There’s also Tsubakihara High School that Karasuno fought in the first round National. Out of those players, the ace (Teradomari) and their wing spiker (Maruyama) have the best chance to get scouted. But there’s little information that we have about them, so I’m not sure. Furudate might not bring them back to the present. This also applies to Ubugawa and Shinzen High School captains from the training camp. Oh, Daishou-kun is also an interesting character, I would love to see him again. But maybe he won’t come back as pro player tho. But him giving commentaries will be very appreciated hehe.

PS: I kinda wish Furudate was a fic writer, lol. They would be able to write absolute masterpiece of crack-pair fics considering how they are able to make sense of Bokuto-Atsumu and Ushijima-Kageyama, lmao. Who else after this? Hoshiumi-Sakusa? Nishinoya-Kiryuu? XD

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[alegacyofmikalsons]

The Act of Living Chp. 2: A Dangerous Threat

Author’s Note: It's taken me forever to finish this chapter but, here it is! I love how it turned out, especially Sera's interactions with all of them. I'll be revealing more details about how exactly they met and became friends over the course of the story, I didn't want to overwhelm with a bunch of background all at once. But, what do you think? Let me know! Hopefully, the next chapter won't take nearly as long as this one did, though I've only just started it so, it will be a little bit before it's ready. 

Rating: Mature

Series Summary: Klaus and Elijah were supposed to die, but fate in the form of new friends Serafina Hewitt and her sister Stevie intervened. A year later Stevie is dead and Sera returns to New Orleans to see her friends and investigate her suspicions about what happened. When it's confirmed that a powerful hunter group is responsible, she realizes a much bigger threat is coming, one that threatens all of New Orleans. As they race to stop it, she gets more than she bargained for, finding the truth about who she is and a growing attachment towards a certain Mikalson.  Most importantly, they all get answers to the biggest riddle of all: what the act of living really means.

Link to Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/791411114-the-act-of-living-chapter-2-a-dangerous-threat

"What?!"

Her shriek draws attention from people on the street and seeing their bewildered stares lock onto us, I groan. This the last thing we need. The longer they linger, the more I want to avoid them.

Pulling her behind another building, I shush her. "Keep it down."

She gives me a confused look but, lowers her voice. "Sera, why are you...?"

"I don't want anyone to overhear this." Glancing around, I make sure no one can see us before continuing. "Not until we know more about what they might be planning. If they follow the pattern they have before...they'll let us know."

I don't have a timeline for when Nemean might attack or a strong idea of what one here might even look like. The only thing I know for sure is the longer the public is worried, the worse the final outcome will be. That means keeping this from them until we have to warn them.

Her worried frown deepens. "This Nemean group, do you really think they want to attack everyone?"

I respond with another sigh. "I do. Targeting public places and events is what they're known for. Sunday farmer's markets, festivals, parties. Anywhere most of the community will be gathered with limited exits. And they're alarmingly successful. Just over a month ago they attacked a festival in Savannah where over a hundred died. The worst part is, if they don't kill as many as they want to, they come back until they're satisfied."

A look of frozen terror materializes as she struggles to comprehend what I've told her. "How do you know all this?" she asked. Then after a few minutes, her eyebrows lift suddenly. "The attacks you've talked about. Your parents. Were they...?"

Closing my eyes for a second, I swallow as images of death and destruction briefly fill my vision.

"There have been five over the course of eight years," I explain, my voice breaking. "With us, they've never been content...for that to happen they'd have to kill everyone. And we've proven to be resilient."

She and her siblings know a lot about our small, secretive town from everything Stevie and I have told them. It's earned me a lot of crow from those in charge, given their disdain for the Original Family but I don't care. Nemean already ruined Mirebrook's illusion of secrecy when we met. And despite being well aware of everything they've done, it wasn't usually without a reason, even indefensible ones.

Her eyes widen in alarm. "Well, why has it taken them so long to show up here? Shouldn't we have been a target by now?"

I shake my head. "Not necessarily. You've done a good job keeping everyone's nature a secret. That's why...I thought Stevie was safe here..." trailing off, I stare at the overcast sky before clearing my throat. "But, it doesn't matter. They can find out who we are on their own, no matter how secretive a community is. If they found Stevie, they're capable of knowing who everyone else is. I guarantee it. That's why I'm so worried. With a city and population this large, if they attack and I believe they will, it could be the biggest one they've done yet."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because I know a lot about them, " I respond. "After the last attack a year ago studying them has been my obsession. This is a target they'd be foolish to pass up."

Because of me.

Everything I care about they destroy and this is the only thing left they can. Unless they figure out how to grow white oak.

I don't say that out loud though, not wanting to scare off the only people I have left. "And they're willing to do anything to kill as many as possible. They'd burn this city to the ground if that's what they thought was necessary. It wouldn't be the first time."

The aftermath of their raid of a small Massachusetts town back when I was following them still appears in my nightmares occasionally. I'd managed to be there in time to save several people but, the town itself was already too engulfed in flames.

Her complexion turns ghostly white.

"We can't let that happen," she frets. "What do we do?"

Hesitating, I bite my lip. I'm used to being able to know everything but my intelligence isn't absolute and Nemean so far has been able to stay elusive. There are no real answers I can give her, especially if the attack is still months away. But, there is an obvious place to start.

"Well, the first thing we need to do is tell your siblings. They'll want to know about this and I'll need their help. You guys have the connections that I don't anymore. Where are they?"

"Nik and Elijah should still be at home," she replies. "If not then I'll have them meet us there."

The others have separate places outside the quarter but still visit frequently. While they'll most likely have to be a part of this too, the two she does live with will do fine for now. They have the most influence on the rest of the community. Plus, I want to see them anyway. Talking through a dirty computer screen isn't the same.

"Let's go then."

I follow Rebekah through the French Quarter, keeping up with her vampire speed. She looks at me in amazement like she has since we met, but doesn't say anything. I give her my usual shrug. There isn't much to tell her. It's one thing that doesn't come with having demon blood. The mystery element in the other half of my pedigree my parents refused to disclose before they died.

This pace allows us to reach the compound relatively quickly and I can't help the small smile that forms. It looks almost identical to how I left it a year ago, with a fresh coat of paint the only addition.

"They should be inside somewhere," she tells me as we enter the courtyard.

Almost as soon as we step inside, a group of vampires surrounds me, their faces twisted in threatening scowls. I recognize them as some of Marcel's nightwalkers, lower-ranking members of his circle. Sometimes they hang out here when he's with Klaus, so I assume he's inside somewhere. It's clear from their attitudes that they don't remember me. But, they do sense the darkness from my blood radiating from me, all vampires can. I'm not worried though. If they do try anything, I can take care of them, probably without causing too much damage. Or if they really annoy me I can let them find out the ugly fate that happens to those with my blood in their system. I doubt anyone will fault me too much if they initiate it.

But, before any of the scenarios in my head can take place a familiar male voice rings out.

"Relax guys, Serafina's a friend," Marcel Gerard says. His eyes narrow into a soft glare until they dutifully resume their prior activities. Seeing me, his expression brightens. "Sera. Long-time no see."

He soon wraps me in a hug and I quickly accept the friendly gesture.

"Sorry, it's been safer for me to be back there," I reply. "But, nothing is keeping me from family and friends right now."

It's the partial truth. Even without the threat, I'd likely still be here. And I figure he'll be filled in after Klaus and Elijah. But, right now is not the time. I definitely do not want the vampires with him to find out yet.

"No worries." His jovial expression falters slightly. "I'm sorry about Stevie. The whole Quarter is grieving. She was loved by everyone here."

I know she had a decent amount of friends here, but not the extent of her connections. The news is welcome information, my guilt for leaving her alone in the city receding a little.

"Thank you, I needed that."

We make more small talk which I only take part in because he's a friend and with Rebekah. Normally it's an activity that makes me bristle. Too soon, Nemean crowds my thoughts once more. I clear my throat. "I'd love to stay and chat but, we need to talk with Klaus and Elijah about something important."

Seeing our tense demeanor, he steps aside to give us better access. "Of course, I was just on my way out. I assume that I'll see you at the funeral later?"

"You will." As we head towards the door, I give him another sad smile.

Rebekah and I go inside and after a few minutes of searching, we find her brothers in the library on the second floor.

"Of course," she quips with a small scoff. "I should have known you'd be moping in here."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Klaus responds, his attention still on the weathered paperback in his hands.

If he's heard the extra noise from my footsteps, it doesn't register. However, Elijah looks up in mild surprise. "Serafina...hello."

"Hi, Elijah."

I find myself swallowing down a sudden bundle of nerves. What the hell? I haven't felt like this around him before. At least, I don't think so. I can't dwell on it too much as Klaus finally glances at me, setting his book aside.

"What nothing for me?"

I roll my eyes, clicking my tongue against the roof of my mouth. "Patience, Klaus. Even if I could forget about you, I wouldn't."

A faint snicker comes from Rebekah while a corner of Elijah's mouth tilts upwards. We all know how little he has. This lighthearted moment makes me realize how much I've missed seeing them in person and I feel a smile forming.

After a minute, Elijah clears his throat, a concerned frown suddenly there where it wasn't before. "How are you doing?"

My mood plummets as I'm forced to remember why I'm here. I almost utter my standard response before stopping myself. Back in Mirebrook, no one really asks me that question anymore or care enough to expect a genuine answer. Not since my dark blood and lovesick heart turned their lives into a paranoid hell. But, right now I can tell that he wants the truth. And as another wave of passing butterflies rolls through I find that I for once want to give it.

"Not too well," I admit with a breathy sigh. "It's hard. She is...was...the last family I had left."

He doesn't say anything but the look on his face is enough. It's more sympathy than pity but it still feels as intense.

"I'm sorry," he finally manages. "She's in our thoughts too."

I don't know what to say, so I simply give him a nod as I take a deep breath to quell the sudden swirl of emotions inside. After a few minutes, I feel Klaus's eyes on me, so I look over.

"I'm assuming you saw her? In the alley?"

Stevie's body.

I nod again. "Yeah, I did. Thanks for making sure no one touched anything. It's actually allowed us to obtain some information about what happened."

This is met with interest.

"What information exactly?" Elijah trades an uneasy look at Klaus.

Rebekah lets out a sigh, trading with me an uneasy glance. "Who killed her. She was targeted by a group of hunters known as the Nemean brotherhood." Her voice trembles slightly.

There's a beat of silence. Then, Klaus lets out a quiet chuckle, a devilish grin spreading.

"I see you're still looking for facts that don't exist. Brother, will you please get her to see some reason?"

Her expression falls before vibrant flush coats her cheeks. I knew this would be the likely response but it still irritates me nonetheless since I've made the same mistakes she has. A conflicted look appears on Elijah's face. For a second I hope that he might give her the benefit of the doubt. But, that's soon dashed as he lets out a resigned sigh. I know he'll make the same choice he usually does when caught between the two of them.

"I know you're upset about what happened to her, we all are. But this speculation isn't going to help," he tells her.

Her eyes harden on them, her lip quivering in centuries of pent-up anger. "Will you just take me seriously for once! This isn't speculation, Sera's confirmed this. And she believes everyone in the Quarter is in danger now too!"

This makes them recoil in surprise. She's yelled at them countless times, but never like this. Especially when it came to sticking up for herself.

Elijah finally looks over at me in silent question. "Is this true?"

Next, to me, she rolls her eyes and I give her a sympathetic look before answering. "Yes. They don't just hunt individually or in small groups. Nemean are more like supernatural terrorists attacking public events. These result in numerous casualties, sometimes hundreds of them."

He blinks in disbelief, straightening in his chair. "How do you know these people are responsible?"

"Because they want us to know. When Nemean kill someone, they leave their symbol somewhere on the body. Just like," I swallow, the words becoming tangled in my mouth. "Just like this one, which Rebekah noticed on Stevie's body. It's the reason I needed to see her, so I could confirm it."

She shows them the picture she's saved on her phone. As soon as he sees it, Elijah's eyes widen as his expression becomes grave. "Niklaus...isn't that...the same symbol that was on that boy Daniel's arm?"

The hybrid's jaw clenches several times. "I thought it was a random tattoo," he growls in confirmation. "Clearly it's not."

Any lingering doubt is erased. This means something to them.

It takes only a second to put the pieces together. "Are you saying...there was a victim before Stevie?"

Dread pools in my stomach. This means they've had to be here for at least that long, perhaps even a month if they took time to survey things before targeting anyone.

"It appears so," Elijah replies, his brows pinching together. "He was a newly turned vampire who we found dead a little over two weeks ago. Are you certain the emblem belongs to them?"

"Positive. Circle with a lion and their name in Greek. All in black or white ink."

The image is vibrant in my mind. Even if I could forget, I've seen way too many victims and buildings with it.

He turns to his sister, an apologetic expression appearing. "I'm sorry Rebekah, it seems you were right to be concerned."

"Thank you," she replied, folding her arms across her chest. "I do know what I'm talking about from time to time."

Meanwhile, Klaus is still sulking, arms crossed. I know why. He's mad that he didn't know about Nemean until now. It's not his fault, I doubt it's an accident. For some reason, Nemean hasn't wanted them to. Now that there's the young man, though, I can tell that's changed.

"Bloody hell. Alright, Sera, tell us more about these people," he demands, his stare boring into me. "I take it you know a lot."

"I do. Nemean travels around the country attacking communities with large supernatural populations. The bigger the place in general and the greater portion of our kind, the bigger the target. They were founded in the nineties and were a fringe group until their current leader joined and took over. He turned them...into an army...a nightmare."

An icy chill spreads in my veins as the man comes to mind and I feel myself beginning to tremble. He's the only person I've truly feared. The reason why when it comes to Klaus's antics, I barely bat an eye.

"What do you know about him?" Elijah inquires.

He's putting on a neutral expression but I can sense the intense worry hidden underneath.

I feel the air become charged with electricity as the energy inside me stirs once more. I have to be careful. Hesitating, I bite into the inside of my cheek until a bitter metallic tang hits my mouth. My body's only reaction to what is poison for everyone else.

After a minute, I finally answer the question. "His name is Richard Crane and... I've never met anyone like him. He's clever, sadistic, power-hungry. Loves using psychological warfare. He can't be human since he can keep up with the best of us. The oldest Vampires, the strongest wolves. Even the witches struggle to fight against him. If I had a guess I'd say he's part demon, even more concentrated than I am. His blood...it's almost pure black and just like mine it kills everything it touches. He could even be the child of a Sin, the highest, most powerful one there is. They're the equivalent of Lucifer."

Klaus leans back in his chair, his anger climbing higher by the minute while Rebekah's turned ghostly white, visibly shaken.

"Where did you obtain all of this?" Elijah asks in curious amazement.

"I've done a lot of research. Also...I've experienced it myself. They've been coming to Mirebrook regularly for years now. We constantly get new people from other places and always manage to rebuild. So, they're never able to quite finish the job."

My voice breaks as I feel tears starting to form and anxiety blooms in my stomach. This is more than I usually show in front of other people due to the risk. Yet, I feel a stubborn urge to press my luck.

So, I divulge the one detail not even Rebekah knew. "And that will never happen as long as I'm there...since Richard Crane has made my death his personal vendetta."

Her mouth falls open as a horrified expression materializes. Klaus and Elijah share similar looks as well.

"What, why?" she exclaims.

I shrug, playing with the sleeve of my sweater in an effort to calm my increasingly erratic emotions. "Not quite sure, he hasn't felt the need to tell me. Could be the demon part of my blood, or the other half I haven't been able to identify. I've also done some...particularly nasty things to his soldiers' families in the past so, I assume that's a factor as well."

The power inside builds once more and the chilled wind returns sending my heartbeat racing twice as fast. My parents' lecture is loud in my head screaming at me to stop. Yet, for some reason, I can't.

"Whatever it is, it's why they've gone after everyone close to me. First, they killed my father in the first raid several years ago...then, my friends one by one," I exclaim tears pricking my eyes like tiny knives. "Last year, the attack on the school where my mother died was their doing as well. Now...poor Stevie. The only reason I'm still here is that I've... somehow...recovered from everything they've done to me. Things that...that should've been fatal. I survive everything, so they've taken everyone from me. Because being alive and alone is...is worse than the most p...painful death."

Through the tears, I see them react with various states of horror and sympathy. The pressure of them on me is too much and I close my eyes to find some relief. Instead, the vivid image of damaged walls and the metallic scent of blood overwhelm me. I snap them back open before it can pull me in completely, my heart pounding in my chest as the power inside me radiates outward causing the floor beneath me to vibrate ever so slightly and the wind to pick up.

No.

I try to do my breathing regimen and begin to hyperventilate, realizing with a sickening dread that it's too late. Collapsing into a fit of heavy sobs as everything intensifies around me, I desperately will myself to move. Somewhere, anywhere but this room. Yet, I can't, my legs rooted in place. The floor is now shaking violent and high-speed gusts rattle everything in sight.

"What in the world?" Klaus shouts.

Elijah and Rebekah bolt upright in states of bewilderment.

"Sera?!" she wonders, her voice filled with fright.

"I can't...I can't stop it...I'm sorry!"

Finally, I'm able to force myself to leave, hurrying out of the room and down the stairs as the tremors increased and hurricane-force winds fill the house. I manage to stumble my way to the living room where the shaking ground and blurring vision cause me to lose my balance. Falling onto my hands and knees, I continue to cry, my chest heaving from the force of the emotions coming out. It feels like it will never end, the sobs, the ringing in my ears and blurry vision.

Yet, at some point, I'm able to latch onto my breath and use it to slowly start regaining control. The quaking slowly turns into a rolling motion and the gusts taper. Then, eventually, everything stops, becoming calm like before. After a minute, I blink as everything comes back into focus. That's when I look around, surveying the damage this outburst had caused. Thrown objects cover the floor including a few framed pictures and a few small cracks are noticeable in the ground. The worst of the destruction is one of the windows which has a small hole and cracks raiding out around it from where something punctured through the glass.

"Oh God," I mumble to myself tearfully as I shakily stand up

My temples begin to throb like my head always does after an episode. Soon, my whole body will be sore from overexertion. After a minute I hear the wood on the stairs creak as I become aware of a presence behind me. Turning around, I notice Elijah standing near the bottom and let out a squeak.

His gaze meets mine and the concern I find in it deepens. "Serafina."

"Elijah." My cheeks are suddenly boiling hot and my forehead starts to sweat as the butterflies from earlier return in earnest. "How long have you been standing there?"

"I came down as soon as it stopped," he replies, looking over my appearance before turning his attention to the surrounding damage. "What exactly happened?"

I sigh and shift my eyes downward. "Sometimes when my emotions are strong they set off abilities. I don't even really know what they are, only that they involve this and that I can't control them. Like my visions."

He knows of the ones about the future, the thing that allowed me to save his life. They all do. But the memories, I haven't worked up the courage to tell them about. Most people I have didn't react well, not understanding that I had no control over what I saw. Even those who accepted my emotional outbursts.

I brace myself for a harsh reaction of fear. I'm a freak. A danger. Most people usually respond with one of the two labels. It's what I've learned to expect ever since the first time back in the orphanage. I barely understood why the woman in charge was so cross with me, her untrimmed nails digging into my arm or why all the other kids were crouched in the corners in fright. But, to my surprise, this isn't the case.

Instead, when I make eye contact once more, I see nothing other than compassion. "I wish we would've known. Maybe we could've helped. Are you alright?"

Twice now all he's cared about is my well-being.

"I..." I stammer before shaking my head as I fall apart once more, with no reason to hide what I'm feeling.

In a matter of seconds, I find myself in his arms being pulled into his embrace. After a second I melt into it. He doesn't say a word, simply giving me the silent comfort needed until I'm ready to talk.

After several minutes I finally choke out, "I'm so tired of people dying because of me."

"Don't say that." He backs away slightly forcing me to meet his gaze. "What happened to Stephanie wasn't your fault."

I shake my head vigorously. "But, it is. It's all because of me. Crane has told me himself. If he can't kill me than he's determined to make my life so painful that I stop living it. That means taking everything and everyone he can from me."

Pushing away, I start to pace across the floor as he watches silently, knowing that nothing he can say will dissuade me.

"That's why I'm so sure this attack will happen," I continue, raking my fingers through my hair. "I don't have people they can take anymore...but I have this, Elijah. My home, the place I care about more than anywhere else. He knows that. So this is what he'll make them destroy next! And I'm scared that...again...I won't be able to stop it. That the only way this will end is with me dead."

"Serafina, we both know that's not true," he replies.

Pausing, I let out an embarrassingly loud sniff. "You're just saying that."

He approaches me cautiously, leaving just enough space to not be startling.

"No, I'm not." He gently places his hands on my shoulders urging me to look at him once more. When I do, my heart leaps into my throat as I notice a soft but strong determination. "You were able to save us and destroy the Hollow while staying alive. That alone should tell you that you're capable enough. And we won't let you do this by yourself. We will help you every step of the way until they're gone."

I gape at him. No one back home would do that for me. Maybe when we first arrived and Nemean hadn't shown up yet, but not now. Now they look at me like they want me dead too.

"I can't ask you to do that. What if it puts you in danger?"

His resolve doesn't waver. "Well, thanks to you, that's not much of an issue. Even on the off chance it becomes one, it won't change a thing. This city is our home, we won't let it be destroyed. And you, Serafina are our friend. A close one. We certainly won't let anything happen to you, I promise."

At this, I gasp. He doesn't throw that word around unless he means it. And I can tell from the look I receive that he does.

"Okay."

This and a nod is the only response that comes out as that feeling floods my veins once more, a mix of nerves and giddiness I can't quite place. The only thing I can compare it to is...no. I've seen enough memories to know that would be a bad idea. Even if it wouldn't be, I can't afford to be distracted now. After a minute, I finally avert my gaze which takes the pressure off of a bit. Then, I realize I should say something. As much as I hate small talk, uncomfortable silence is worse.

"Thank you. Out of all the reactions I thought you'd have to me destroying your house...this was definitely not one of them." I glance around at the surrounding mess, the guilt creeping in again.

He shrugs in response. "It wasn't on purpose. And we're not unfamiliar with this type of situation."

Instantly, I know what he's referring to and I crack a smile. "Davina when she had to go through the Harvest, right."

I realize my mistake as his eyes widen slightly in surprise. "You know of that?" he asks me curiously.

Blood rushes to my cheeks in a wave of panic. At some point I know I'll have to tell them. Or it'll slip out on its own. But the thought of that conversation occurring now is terrifying. Quickly, I think of an acceptable answer.

"Uh, yeah. Rebekah mentioned it a few months ago."

It was the partial truth. She did tell me this in a small café in Portland. But, I had already seen the memory months before then.

Luckily, he nods and doesn't question it further. "Then you know this is nothing to be worried about. Nothing a spell or two from Freya can't repair."

This time, the grin on my face is completely real. "If you're sure. I'm perfectly capable of cleaning up my own messes."

He scoffs lightly. "Oh, I'm sure you are. But, right now you should get some rest before tonight."

On cue, the fatigue I've been expecting begins to creep in. As much as I want to protest, I can't. These often left me sedentary on the couch or in severe cases, in bed for a few hours. I actually got a decent nights' sleep the last time this occurred. This one while intense was relatively short. I've stayed in it for nearly half an hour before. Meaning I should be able to get by with just sitting down somewhere.

"Fine." I purse my lips not looking forward to the next few hours. I tend to get bored with nothing to keep my mind occupied. Then, an idea comes to me on how to pass the time. "Still have those Greek mythology books?"

He blinks at me, not expecting this request before nodding. "We do."

"I'll rest by doing that then."

They're lovely editions, reprinted but untranslated from the Greek they were written in. While recovering from the Hollow, they were the only thing that kept me occupied once I was awake.

He sighs. "I suppose that's better than nothing. Won't that strain your eyes?"

"Nope. It's pretty relaxing actually," I tell him, my smile widening.

He shakes his head in amusement. "Alright, I'll get them for you then."

The normalcy amongst everything else is comforting. I just hope whatever it is I'm feeling isn't permanent because that will upset things one way or another. I don't know if I'll be able to handle the consequences of that.

[callunavulgari]

Year-In-Life | 2019

Or that annual New Year’s meme about yours truly.

1. What did you do in 2019 that you’d never done before? Had abdominal surgery! I spent most of April either doped up or unconscious. Long story short, I had an ovarian cyst that they thought was twice as big as my fist. So they fast-tracked me to surgery, and discovered that while I did have an ovarian cyst that was pretty large, most of the issue was that my bowel had fused to my uterine wall. Or was it abdominal wall? Either way, my bowel was glued to where it shouldn’t be and very angry because it had a fairly large pre-cancerous polyp in it. Which I found out a week after the abdominal surgery, when I had to have a colonoscopy. Which leads me to...

Had to do three different bowel preps in less than a month! It’s really not fun, guys. But, I got a cyst removed, a polyp removed, a metric fuckton of endo removed, and got my bowel back where it should be. Also, they confirmed that I can have babies! Which I didn’t know I was so fucked up about until I started crying about it post surgery.

Oh, also I peed in a bedpan. That’s also something I’ve never done before. And and and, been sick on Christmas! - Adding Tanya later in this post means I remembered something else I’d never done before - jumped into a pool fully dressed. Then became... no longer dressed.

2. Did you keep your new years’ resolutions, and will you make more for next year? Still don’t remember what my resolution was which- hey, 2020 Heather! Your 2019 resolution is to legitimately lose weight (she says while eating cotton candy ice cream out of the tub) and quit smoking again. Also, maybe be engaged. But mostly, the weight and the smoking thing. 

As for 2019 resolutions- I can guess what they were, which probably boiled down to losing weight. I put on about 20 pounds after surgery and haven’t lost it, because shocker, abdominal surgery really fucks with your core strength. Pretty sure there was something in there about reading 100 books (done), beating 4 games (done), and write something original (done? technically?) and/or novel-length (negative). 

3. Did anyone close to you give birth? High school people and a few old coworkers. Nick’s cousin and his wife just had their third kid though. I think it may have actually happened on Christmas. 4. Did anyone close to you die? No.

5. What countries did you visit? Alternatively, what is your favorite place that you did go this year? No countries. Went to North Carolina for our possible last beach vacation. In January we’re going to Vegas for our friend’s wedding, which will be interesting. They’re getting married on a ferris wheel by an Elvis impersonator. May also go to Maine this year, but not sure yet because I only have a certain amount of vacation time. 

6. What would you like to have in 2020 that you lacked in 2019? Didn’t get a ring, yet. But we’ll see. We also didn’t get the house yet, so lets recycle those wants! Also, while we’re shooting big here, how about a better goddamn president?

7. What date from 2019 will remain etched upon your memory, and why? Started my second big girl job on November 18th. Had surgery on April 12th. Not a whole lot else stands out. 8. What was your biggest achievement of the year? Got a new job! With more money and more responsibility and will look really good on a resume! Didn’t kill myself? Which sounds pretty morbid, but I had a lot of pain in my life earlier in the year. 

9. What was your biggest failure? Not... losing... weight? Because I really need to do that. The heartburn bullshit will likely go away. The sleep apnea thing will likely go away. Your health in general will improve. And you don’t even like food that much anyway!  10. Did you suffer illness or injury? I think I’ve had the flu twice this year and again, abdominal surgery, so yes. 11. What was the best thing you bought? I got nice clothes? Most of the other shit has been knick-knacks. I got more books. A new bookshelf!  12. Whose behavior merited celebration? I don’t know. Mine, I guess. I mean, 2019 wasn’t the worst, but it definitely has not been great.  13. Whose behaviour made you appalled and depressed? I have a friend. Let’s call her Amanda. Yeah, her. She’s blown us off a lot this year, which really sucks. The rest of it is her own decisions that only affect us because it’s inevitably going to affect her in a terrible way, but the blowing us off and only using us as passes for free food and ways to do her laundry really sucks.

14. Where did most of your money go? Surgery! My OOP may have been met in April, but the surgery itself was $48,000. I’ve only had to pay about $6,000 because my OOP was 5k, but that still hurts. And my dental sucks, which means I paid out of my ass to fix my teeth. Also, I bought way too many clothes and books. 15. What did you get really, really, really excited about? I do still appreciate having a job with decent money. The new job will have insurance after my 90 day probation period (yeah, because you can’t have health care for 3 months even if you work in health care because you’re new). I’m glad that I caught the polyp before it became cancerous. I was happy I could have babies. I got excited about the new His Dark Materials series and The Witcher series and Kingdom Hearts 3 and God of War, and probably at least a couple other fandom things.

16. What song will always remind you of 2019? Face My Fears. Curse of the I-5 Corridor. Hadestown soundtrack. Transistor soundtrack. Wasteland, Baby! album. Billie Eilish in general. Lark of My Heart. But mostly, Face My Fears and Don’t Think Twice. 17. Compared to this time last year, are you: i. happier or sadder? Sadder, probably? 2019 wasn’t great. ii. thinner or fatter? Fatter.  iii. richer or poorer? Technically probably on par with where I was last year? I didn’t save quite as much as I wanted to with the surgery happening. Also, my car needed some pricey repairs this year. 18. What do you wish you’d done more of? I do wish I’d written more this year, but I wrote a lot in October. Possibly more than the last two years combined, which was nice. And I read a lot. I kind of wish I slept more. Or ate better. Or worked out more. I’m just really tired this year.

19. What do you wish you’d done less of? Spent less time with doctors? But I mean, taking care of myself is good and I’ve never had that option before.

20. How will you be spending Christmas? Spent it mostly sleeping. We got a bug that was either a really bad cold or a flu, so I’ve spent the last week generally shitty and sweaty and tired. First year that we haven’t been able to do Christmas basically at all. But we spent the hours between 6pm on Christmas Eve and 10am Christmas morning have the most restless goddamn sleep in the world and then opened presents and watched Love Actually and some television (the last two episodes of the Witcher!) while kind of napping on the couch, and ordered Chinese because it was hungry and the only thing open. 21. How will you be spending New Year’s Eve? Think I’m going to make the pirozki on Sunday, and then we’re doing a gift exchange with some of our friends at his mom’s house. 22. Did you fall in love in 2019? Eh. Still love him.  23. Best month for you this year? Clearly me having a good 2018 while everyone else had a shitty one guaranteed 2019 to be shit, because I honestly don’t fucking know. October was nice. So was August. But fuck most of the rest of it.

24. What was your favorite TV program? Of just 2019? Russian Doll, Glow, The Dragon Prince, Good Omens, Schitt’s Creek, The Terror, Chernobyl, Buzzfeed Unsolved, She-Ra, His Dark Materials, The Witcher... 2019 may have been a meh year, but it had some good shows. Of those, I think my favorite was probably either The Witcher or Good Omens, with His Dark Materials, Russian Doll, and The Terror tying for third. 25. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year? Eh.

26. What was the best book you read? Red, White, & Royal Blue was probably my favorite. I also read Sanderson’s books this year though, which were also absolutely amazing. Mistborn and The Stormlight Archive were wonderful. It was a pretty great year for books too. Books and TV, well done 2019. Middlegame, The Ninth Gate, a lot of rereads. Best one was still Red, White, & Royal Blue though. 27. What was your greatest musical discovery? Do Utada Hikaru’s new Kingdom Hearts anthems count? Because Spanish Sahara by Foals, Obstacles by Syd Matters, the new Hozier album, and the Hadestown soundtrack were all wonderful musical discoveries. 28. What did you want and got? I don’t know. New clothes? A laptop? Confirmation that my ovaries work?

29. What did you want but didn’t get? Well, I lost the bet with Brandon. No ring by the end of 2019. No kids, either, but we aren’t quite there yet. No house. No perfect health? Is that a thing?

30. What was your favorite film of this year? I liked Into the Spiderverse a lot. Detective Pikachu. Rocketman.Frozen 2. Endgame was all right. I didn’t hate the new Star Wars. Toy Story 4. IT. It wasn’t a super great movie year for me.

31. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you? The big 3-0. It was all right. The night before we went to Fujiyamas with a couple of our friends, then on my birthday we had breakfast at First Watch, did some Christmas shopping, and went to the Zoo Lights a little after 5. Froze to death because it was snowing and shocker, when snow melts you get wet, but it was nice. Then had a late dinner at Mackenzie River, because it was one of the only places still open and close to our place.

32. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying? Hah! A better president and a ring is the only thing that I didn’t get from my wishes last year. ----Hmmmmm 33. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2018? I did not give up and buys Scrubs. Instead I have a perhaps slightly oversized work appropriate selection of jeans (for Fridays), work slacks, blouses/sweaters, dresses, and skirts. I spent a little too much on clothes this year. I blame discovering Torrid. 34. What kept you sane? Reading was really, really great this year. - STILL leaving this answer, three years running! 35. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most? David Tenant made a shocking comeback after Good Omens aired. 36. What political issue stirred you the most? FUCK DONALD TRUMP IN THE EAR 20156789. —– Ayyyyy, this was my response from last year, and apparently also the year before and the one before! Hello past me’s, don’t worry, it’s still getting worse. 37. Who did you miss? Myself. Also, my brother, who is still in jail almost a year later and still no fucking trial. 38. Who was the best new person you met? I don’t know. Oh! I do know! I really like Tanya. 

39. Talk about a new friend that you made this year: Tanya is awesome and pretty and fun and possibly at least a little bit crazy, but we all fucking are, come on. She got to come with us on vacation this year and it really made it interesting. Also, Shay and Alicia. I knew them last year, but got to know them pretty well this year.

40. Post a picture from the beginning of the year:

Took this one about 20 minutes after midnight on January 1st, 2019 after my first successful round of Battleshots. The hat went to the winner. It is not the most flattering picture, because I had been drinking already before I had to take four shots of Satan’s cinnamon liquor.

41. Post a picture from the end of the year:

Taken on my birthday, at the zoo. Again, snow melts.

42. A memorable meal discovered this year? Not sure? There’s not a whole lot of new food we haven’t tried. One of the pharmacists brought in some authentic Indian food for one of the potlucks we had and I don’t remember what it was called but it had rice and eggs and was amazing.

43. What was your favorite memory this year? I don’t know. We saw both Hamilton and Les Mis this year and they both reduced me to tears. I also had some good moments with books and tv shows I watched with Nick.

44. What are you excited for next year? There’s a couple new books. The election. Some tv shows, I think? Games? I don’t know, man. I’m trying not to come off as horribly depressed but I am kind of pretty depressed and nobody will ever know because the only person who ever gets this far into reading these things is me, so- hello 2020 me, you were really sad on December 26th 2019 and honestly for most of the year, so I sure hope 2020 is the year that we fucking seize life by the horns or however that saying goes.

45. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2019: I feel like my message from last year is fucking taunting me. Legit though, this is not the worst thing you’ve ever been through. You have a boyfriend who loves you, two wonderful cats that better not fucking die anytime soon, and like, I don’t know, working ovaries. A job. A car. An apartment that has a kind of shitty kitchen and a bath tub that might as well not exist, but is still an apartment! Which is more than some people have! 

I guess my message from last year (it gets better) is in almost direct opposition of this year, which is basically: it could always be worse. 46. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year: Feed me sunlight, feed me air In a place where nothing matters Feed me truth and feed me prayer

(seriously, deliriously happy 2018 me quoting singin’ in the rain is taunting me wtf)

First Fandom of 2019: January of 2019 was pretty solidly Detroit Become Human. It hit me hard. Favorite Main Character of 2019: Jonathan Sims. I was a slut for the Archivist in 2019. Favorite Villain of 2019: Elias from The Magnus Archives, maybe? My only other response would be.. dun dun dun, Ben Solo aka Kylo Ron or whatever Favorite M/F Couple of 2019: I... am back on my Reylo bullshit. Favorite F/F Couple of 2019: Can I say Villanelle and Eve even if I didn’t really dip into the fandom? No? Okay, Catra and Adora. Favorite M/M Couple of 2019: Okay, so the three that got me this year was Hank/Connor, Jon/Martin, and Ryan/Shane.  Fandom That You Never Expected To Get Into: Um, Buzzfeed Unsolved. Never would have guessed that one. Also like, while I would have expected Detroit Become Human I never would have guessed my favorite ship. Fandom That Made An Unexpected Comeback: Sigh. Twas that Reylo smacking me in the face at the tail end of 2019. Fandom That Inspired The Most Crack: Insert shrug? I read a weird Buzzfeed Unsolved fic above Mothman giving the guys sharable dreams (that were sometimes weird and sometimes sexy) until they boned. Last Fandom of 2019: Sighing again. Reylo. Though Yuletide has made it so I’ve read a lot of Queen’s Thief stuff. Favorite Fandom of 2019: I think that Buzzfeed Unsolved was my favorite purely from a fic standpoint, but Detroit Become Human and The Magnus Archives were both really great too.

[punkass-parkerps4]

I’ll make it up to you

summary:peter has to go do spidey stuff in the middle of sexy times

Your heels clicked down the hall to your apartment. You had a smile on your face, and you felt confident.you had just had your first day at a new job you were loving, mostly because of the atmosphere of  the tiny office in Hell's Kitchen; Two lawyers posted that they needed a secretary/paralegal and you gave your resume, and the rest was history. Your day was primarily helping the working people of the city, mostly pro-bono cases. For your first day, you dressed modestly professional. The dress was made out of a comfortable material and made you feel attractive but in a 'boss ass bitch' kind of way. You opened the door to you and your boyfriend's apartment to smell of caramelized onion and spices like cumin and turmeric and ginger. You now realized just how hungry you are after working all day. You see peter set your small table with plates of Naan bread and a bowl of chicken tikka marsala. " so I figured you would be tired after your new job, so I used your recipe that you gave me and made dinner," he spoke with a metal fork still in his mouth, chewing on the delicious Indian based food. "thank you, Pete, that was thoughtful." you smiled at his dorkiness. Over dinner, you talk about each other's days what Pete did at work and on patrol. You clean and put away the dishes. As you were walking past the couch peter pulls you into his lap planting small kisses on your face and tickling your sides. you let out  a laugh and beg him to stop; then you feel a hardness in his jeans.all of that bouncing around must have gotten him hard you think before he says "you look so sexy babe, so professional and stuff." you move from his lap to kneeling between his thick muscular thighs. "Yeah?" you rub your hands over his denim covered thighs " So gorgeous baby." he agrees.you undo his belt before pulling it from his jeans and tossing it behind you. One hand rubs his growing erection, and the other undo the button and zipper. He lifts his hips, and you pull his jeans and boxers off swiftly, his hard and veiny cock smacks his lower stomach. He shutters when you teasingly run a finger along a decently sized scar on his thigh. You look up at him while kissing the inside of his leg. his breathing his slightly labored as you reach up to the back of your dress and unzip it. It falls exposing your bra.you free your arms and starts pumping him slowly, teasing. "my spidey senses are telling me that you were planning this all along." he motioned to the lacy bra.you giggled at your inside joke you release him and start kissing up his length, now massaging his balls. You suck on the tip of his pretty cock, and he let out a strangled moan. You pull away and pump him a few times before repeating this time stroking the rest of his dick.you swirl your tongue around the pink tip, and he places his hand on your head, motioning you to take him in deeper. Has moaning softly as the tip of his pulsating cock hit the back of your throat. You're bobbing your head up and down his length. "you're so good for me, sweetheart," he whined.just as he's about to cum you pull away. He whines as you undo your bra, nipples pebbling from the cold air. You take him in your mouth again, tears pooling in the corner of your eyes. "mmnn gonna cum soon" he mewled, his hips buck as he shoots a load of hot cum down your throat, almost making you gag. You remove his throbbing shaft from your mouth with a pop.you move to straddle him on the couch. You kissed him passionately, tounges colliding and fighting for dominance. just as you break apart his phone goes off. "10-34 hostage situation near hell's stacks currently in progress, backup requested." the operator from the police scanner spoke. You both let out an audible groan. This was definitely not the first time you were interrupted during your time together, and it would certainly not be the last. As much as you hated being cock-blocked by the police radio. You loved Peter more and ultimately understood that he had to save lives. You scooched off his lap, and he clumsily put on his suit; apologizing and promising to make it up to you later. He kissed your forehead and was out of the window. Feeling alone and horny; you let a resigned sigh from your lips and go to the bedroom to try to solve this problem by yourself. ____________________________________________________ When Peter returned, he found that his girlfriend was already asleep.  She looked so peaceful sleeping; strands of (H/C) hair wisping around her face.he removed his suit and kneeled by the bedside. He moves the tresses of soft hair behind her ear; she starts only slightly. A soft smile washes across his face; a tightening in his chest; he felt horrible about leaving her in the middle of sex, especially after that amazing blow job she gave him. He slipped into bed with her, her scent embracing him with the duvet. He snuggled up into her side as his hands began to wander. He moved his fingers over her breast teasing the pebbling nipple. Peter smiled as his ministrations elicited a sigh from her parting lips. He switched to the other mound, tweaking the erect nipple, another cry from her still sleeping form. His hand moved southward, caressing her stomach then slipping beneath her pajama pants and panties. His thick, calloused fingers stroked lightly over her lips before rubbing tight circles over her clit, just light enough to not awaken her but give her pleasure at the same time. A louder whimper fell from her lips as she began to buck her hips into his touch. Her breathing was becoming, and he could hear her heart speed up in between soft mewls of pleasure. He knew she was close by the way she was writhing against him.to tease her he stopped his stimulation on her clit and moved to feel how wet she was, soaking her underwear.he moved back to her clit this time pressing slightly more firmly, her legs spread slightly as he began to place butterfly kisses on her bare shoulder. A quiet moan escaped her lips as her body tensed as her orgasm radiated through her body. She awoke to the throbbing pleasure in her lower abdomen and the feeling of Peter's hand in her pants. "mmmm peter" she keened, nuzzling into his touch "want me to keep going, beautiful?" he quired to which her response was a nod.peter ripped the covers from the bed and crawled between her legs.he ripped the clothes off from her lower half. his rough hands spread her thighs and guided your legs to be thrown over his shoulders.he licked a long stripe up her labia before pulling away and asking her smugly "Mmm baby you're so wet, is this because of how I woke you up by rubbing your pretty little pussy?" "Peter please!" she begged. He smirked before returning to lick and suck at her bud. The way he kissed and teased her womanhood had her hips bucking against his face, trying to get more stimulation. He growled and placed his forearm over her pubic bone, using some of his strength to keep her still. She let out a moan that sounded like music to Peter; her hand reached down in peters hair. "Pete, I'm so close. I'm Gonna come." she whimpered as her other hand curled into the bedspread. His name fell from her lips.her next orgasm washed over like a tidal wave, her nether regions throbbed and pulsated as he continued to eat her out through her orgasm.he removed his glistening mouth from her and began to tease her opening with his middle finger. She let out a whimper when he finally pushed his digit into her tight wetness. He curled his thumb against her walls and thrusting his finger deeper, earning him keens from her open lips. Once he felt she was ready, he pushed his ring finger inside her. She writhed and rolled her head against her pillow.her hand moved to his forearm still keeping her hips again. "Peter! I'm gonna cum again-oh!" he leaned down and suckled on her clit to bring her over the edge with a cry of his name. Her third orgasm made her legs clench around his head as she spasmed around his digits, still thrusting inside of her. ____________________________________________________ Peter removed his fingers from your heat and brought the slick digits up to his mouth to taste.you sat up and grabbed a condom from the bedside drawer as he moved up to kiss you, you tasted yourself on him. He licked your bottom lip before your tounges battled for dominance in a heated kiss as you rolled the slick condom onto his shaft before giving him a few pumps.  You let out a squeal as he pushes you back down on the bed.  He teases your slit with the head of his cock before pushing in slowly. "hah, baby you're so wet and tight." he panted in your ear before sucking on the sweet spot on your neck "Pete, please move." you whimpered.  He pulled out slightly then pushed back in; he soon found a good rhythm that you both liked.his hot breath fanned over your throat as he hit your g-spot, causing you to let out a loud moan. His mouth moved across your clavicle and down your sternum before diverting left to take a perked bud into his warm mouth. His tongue swirling around your nipple and his thrusts that hit your g-spot every time caused your hand to clench his bicep, leaving red crescent-shaped indents in his skin. "Peter please, I'm gonna come again." you cried as he gave you another passionate kiss. "come for me, baby," he spoke.your mouth formed an o-shape as your body tensed. you let out a loud cry as you come tumbling from the edge yet again.you feel the fire in every nerve ending as your body twitched from the intensity. Peter pulled you into his lap, still inside you. When you and come down he started trusting up, directly hitting your g-spot.youre sure moaning so loud that the neighbors could hear you.peter his panting in your ear letting out groans of pleasure. "hah.im close, baby." Peter moaned in your ear "p-Pete I c-cant." you whined, the intense pleasure becoming too much. Your hands flew up to his back, nails probably leaving scratches. "it's ok, come for me.i know you can," he assured, snaking a hand between the both of you to rub your clit a loud cry of his names forced itself from your throat. Your whole body spasms as your walls contracts around his hard cock.  He lets out a loud moan as he pushes entirely inside you, releasing into the condom. When you come down, you see your bodies and faces flushed and covered in sweat.  He lays you back on the bed before pulling out and discarding the used condom. He kisses your forehead and says he'll be back.  He returns with a bottle of water, which he opens and hands you. You take a sip and ask him "can you carry me to the bathroom? I need to pee, and I don't think I can walk." he laughs "sure gorgeous, anything for you."

[mrs-berry]

A Favour Only You Can Do

Part 8 of Avril Amour (Adrinette April 2019)

By mrs_berry

@adrinetteapril

Click here to read on AO3!

"A-Adrien!" Marinette called out, before Adrien made his way out of the classroom.

Adrien spun around, stunned to hear his friend calling for him.

"What's up, Marinette?" He smiled at her as she approached him. She gestured for him to step aside from the door so others could leave.

"I'm sorry to ask you this, b-but could you do me a favour?" Marinette shyly put he fingers in front of her mouth in attempt to keep herself from chewing her lips off.

"Of course, what do you need?"

Marinette watched as the students left, waiting until they were alone.

"You can say 'no' but I was h-hoping you could help me... with an article of clothing I'm making for a really good friend," she explained, moving her hands to tug on her pigtails nervously.

"I'm not very creative so I'm not sure I'll be much help, but I can try. What do you need me to do?" He tilted his head, curious.

"I need you to... try a shirt on," she hesitated. She knew he did modeling for a living and didn't want him to feel like she was using him like that. "Y-you seem to be the same size and body-type as my friend. Otherwise, I-I wouldn't bother you with this, since it's not right for me to ask you to, essentially, model it for me for free..." Marinette was looking at his feet by this point. It was easier than looking into his gentle green eyes. "I can p-probably pay you, but it wouldn't be much..."

Adrien chuckled at her thoughtfulness. She was so cute and sweet. "I'd be happy to help you with this, Marinette! And there's no need to pay me. I'm your friend, right?" He sounded a little unsure as he asked that last part.

Marinette's head whipped up. "YES!" She slapped her hands on her mouth at her outburst. Then clearing her throat and lowering her hands, she tried to speak a little more normally this time, "I mean, um, of course you're my friend! A-and thank you."

He shook his head with a wry smile, "Any time. I love helping and it makes me happy to think I'll be helpful to you. You're always the one helping others."

Marinette suppressed a squeal. "T-thanks, you're so sweet." Marinette felt her face flush; she hadn't meant to say it with such love in her voice. Gosh, hopefully he wouldn't notice her tone.

He didn't, of course. He just smiled in response.

"A-anyway, are you free to come over today... after school?" she fidgeted with her purse strap as she asked.

"I am, actually! You have perfect timing. I have a lot of extracurriculars but I have a few hours free after school is out today," he replied looking rather pleased at the good timing.

She had a hold back an, "I know," as she didn't want him to find out she had his schedule basically memorized at this point. If he found out, he would probably end his friendship with her and never talk to her again, then she would be heartbroken and live a short and lonely life, passing away cruelly at the tender age of 15—

"You okay, Marinette? You look stressed all of a sudden." Adrien stared at her, his lovely smile replaced with an expression of complete concern.

"Sorry! Fine! I am. Fine, that is. I just, err, remembered that I forgot to water my plants this morning. Yeah." Marinette cringed at her response, but mentally cheered at her decent white lie.

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. Maybe you can water them now that we're on lunch?"

"Yes! Ha, ha. Good. Good idea. I'll, um, go do that right now." She sprinted past him to the door, then spinning on her heel before she left, she flashed him a smile. "Thanks again!" And then she was gone, leaving a slightly mystified Adrien.

"She is something, eh Plagg?"

"Yeah, she's your weird lover," Plagg muttered under his breath.

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

After school, Marinette and Adrien walked to her home. Adrien had already let Gorilla and Nathalie know that he didn't need picking up after school. He had told them he was going to Marinette's to work on a project. Which wasn't a lie, it just wasn't a school project like they had probably assumed it to be.

They chatted as they made their way to her bedroom, Marinette still a bundle of nerves, but more relaxed than she was earlier.

Once they entered her room, Marinette went over to her desk and picked up the t-shirt she had been working on.

She chuckled a little as she looked at it. Turning around, she held it out for Adrien.

"Here. This is the shirt I would like you to try on," she said, fondness warming her heart as she thought of who she was giving it to.

Adrien noticed the soft look on her face and wondered who could it be for that she would make that face? Perhaps Luka? For some unknown reason, Adrien felt a twinge of pain at that thought.

"Thanks. Where should I change?"

"Right here is fine," Marinette answered. She watched his eyes widen and she immediately flushed when she didn't elaborate quickly enough. "I-I'll wait on the balcony. Knock to let me know when you're ready."

Marinette made her escape before he had a chance to reply.

Adrien glanced down at the black t-shirt in his hands. Lifting it up, he found it had "THE CAT'S MEOW" written on the front, causing him to burst into laughter.

As his laughter subsided, he flipped it around to see "PAWSOME" written across the back, with a silver paw print underneath. He found himself laughing again.

"Whoever this is for has a great sense of humour," he said to himself between his chuckles. "I'm kind of jealous..."

Shaking his head to rid of that weird thought, he changed into the silky soft t-shirt. The material felt fantastic on his skin and fit him to a T.

He knocked to let Marinette know he was done changing. She climbed back into her room and stood in front of him.

Her eyes took on an extreme focus, as if all she could see now was the shirt. She walked up to him, then circled him like a hawk. He loved seeing her determined expression. It reminded him of Ladybug for some reason.

She reached out to check the fit—to see if it was too loose or snug. However, she froze when she realized who she was touching.

Eyes flickering to his, she checked to see his reaction. He had one of his loving smiles that he showed only to Marinette.

Squeaking, she said, "Sorry!" and removed her hands from the shirt. "I-I should have asked first, I'm used to the fabric being on a mannequin, not a person... Is it okay to t-touch the shirt and test the material while you're wearing it?"

"Yeah. That's what I'm here for, right? To make sure it fits properly?"

Marinette nodded in relief and resumed her work.

"Your friend has a great sense of humour," Adrien decided to comment as he stood completely still for her.

She hummed, not fully paying attention as she quipped, "Depends on your definition of 'great'..." Marinette hesitated as she realized she had responded without really thinking. "S-sorry, that was rude!"

"Pfft, it's okay, I know puns aren't for everyone," Adrien laughed; her response had reminded him of Ladybug.

Wait a second, this was the second time in the past 20 minutes that he had this thought. That was strange.

Marinette gave a nervous giggle in response to his infectious laughter.

"Whoever this gift is for, it's amazing. Are you going to tell them you made it yourself?" Adrien asked, somewhat hopeful that she might make mention of who it was for.

"Yeah. I want him to be impressed with my skills for creating something so purrfect for him," she rolled her eyes at her own pun and then laughed when she noticed Adrien chuckling.

They fell back into silence for a few more moments as Marinette looked over some final details, until Marinette took a step back from him.

"There, finished. Thank you so much for your help, Adrien," she beamed at him as excitement took over. Later tonight she would be able to gift this present, thanks to the help of her kind crush. "I'll go on the balcony again so you can change back."

After he changed back, Marinette and him chatted for a short while, while they waited for his ride back home.

Thanking him again, Marinette smiled fondly as he departed; a smile which he returned before he disappeared from her sight.

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

Ladybug paced as she waited for her partner to show up. She was a little bit restless, excited to see his face at her gift.

When Chat Noir finally arrived, Ladybug composed herself to appear nonchalant.

"Hey there, kitty. You're a little bit late for pawtrol," Ladybug cringed. Why did she keep making puns lately? Her partner must be rubbing off on her more than she realized. It probably didn't help that she made him a punny t-shirt.

Chat Noir laughed gleefully at her. "Sorry, M'Lady, I was pruning myself. Maintaining these good looks requires ample time for grooming." He flexed and winked for good measure.

Ladybug sighed in annoyance. "Right," she said dismissively. "Anyway, as promised, I made you something for winning last week's poorly made bet."

Chat Noir smiled, looking like a kid on Christmas morning. "Oooh, lemme see!"

"Calm down, kitty. There's no catnip in here," she said with amusement as she handed him a box. "And sadly you won't be able to sit in this box either."

"Haw, haw," Chat said, his lips twitching into a grin, despite trying to feign nonchalance at her jokes. His joy was winning out.

Despite his eagerness, Chat slowly opened the box and pulled out a soft fabric. A familiar soft fabric.

Chat gasped as he held up the fabric.

It was a t-shirt. But not just any old t-shirt, it was the exact one that he had been modeling earlier.

Flabbergasted, he blinked a few times to make sure he was seeing properly.

Slowly, mechanically, his head turned to Ladybug.

She had a look of apprehension plastered to her face; probably wondering why he wasn't laughing.

"Did..." Chat cleared his hoarse throat. "Did you make this?" He sounded full of awe and disbelief.

Deciding his reaction wasn't necessarily a bad thing, Ladybug beamed at him. Ladybug's beam reminded him of Marinette...

"Yes! Aren't you impressed? It's purrfect for you, kitty!"

 Oh shit.

[thursdays-fallen-angel]

Outside the Midnight Hour

@deancaswc ; @thursdays-fallen-angel vs. @jimminovak Prompt: Book Title “Outside the Midnight Hour” Word count: 3.1k Rating: T Summary: Dean has a chance to be cast in the movie of a lifetime, but it’s down to the author of the film’s source material to decide if he’s going to get the job or not.

When Dean’s agent calls him, he’s sure that it’s going to be with a rejection. Based on the vibe Dean had gotten in the audition room, the amount of money going into this project—there’s no way in hell they’re going to take him.

After all, this film isn’t like any other that Dean has even so much as auditioned for, let alone been a part of. A paranormal, action-based movie with a heavy focus on psychological aspects and themes of self-exploration? With that much going on, it’s going to have to be perfect.

And the director, Cain Mullen, is one of the best in the industry. He won’t accept anything less than perfection, anyway.

Which is why Dean answers his phone with, “Alright, lay it on me. How embarrassed do I have to be for even trying for this thing?”

There’s a beat of silence on the other end of the line, and then Charlie asks, “What the hell are you talking about?”

Dean slumps down onto his couch, his pout directed up at the ceiling. It’s a decent apartment in a decent area of LA, but overall, nothing to write home about; being an up and coming actor doesn’t quite have the same pizazz to it as being a fully-fledged one does.

If he had just landed this gig…

He sighs into his phone. “Beyond the Midnight Hour. Cain didn’t seem all that impressed during my reading, so how bad is it looking? Maybe I should stick to mediocre romcoms and B-list horror stuff.”

Charlie makes a sound of outrage in reply, and when she speaks next, her voice has taken on that unmistakable, I am your agent and that means I know best, mister, attitude. “Dean Winchester, you are better than those movies, and one day I’m going to make you believe it. And guess what! That day is today, so strap in, bucko.”

Dean blinks. That’s sounding an awful lot like she’s saying…

“Strap in for what, Charlie?”

He can practically hear his agent’s wolfish grin. “You’ve got a meeting, Winchester. A couple people at the studio want to talk to you.”

Dean sits up so quickly that his head spins—or is that happening anyway? “You mean I—?”

“You’re one of two choices,” Charlie is quick to cut in, and there’s the other shoe that Dean knew had to be waiting somewhere. “But Dean, it’s looking really good. The director and a few producers want to talk to you, maybe run you through some more lines, and then they’ll make their decision.”

Okay. Okay, Dean can handle that. One-on-one with another actor, and if he comes out ahead, he could potentially be the lead of the movie of the year. Should be easy enough. All he has to do is win over the directors and producers. Right?

He takes a deep breath, determination taking root. “Alright, Charlie. Send me the details.”

~

Dean arrives at the studio’s main office only a few hours after Charlie’s call, dressed in his best with his stomach twisted into knots. A receptionist leads him to a conference room that has been set up like an informal get-together space, with the table pushed off to the side of the room and an array of basic snacks and drinks spread across it.

There are only two other people in the room, one of whom Dean recognizes immediately.

Cain appears to be deep in conversation with the room’s one other occupant, but he looks up when Dean enters, and his face splits into a grin. “Ah, Mr. Winchester! I’m so glad you could join us.”

Cain crosses the room and grabs Dean’s hand for a firm, overexcited handshake. Dean tries his best not to gape like a damn fish the whole time, but he only barely manages to return the handshake by the time Cain moves on.

“I trust your agent explained to you what we’re looking for today,” the director says, a heavy hand now laying on Dean’s shoulder. “Our team is in a dead split between casting you or Michael Godson as our lead, and that means we’ve brought it down to our tiebreaker.”

Multiple alarms immediately begin to ring in Dean’s mind. A dead split? Him and Michael Godson? Charlie hadn’t made it sound quite so dire, and she definitely hadn’t told Dean who his competition was—though it’s probably fair that she didn’t, because if she had, there’s no way Dean would have shown up at all.

Michael is a pro with a resume that’s a hell of a lot better than Dean’s. Dean might have some decent acting chops, but if it comes down to it, in what setting could he ever possibly hope to beat Michael?

He croaks out, feeling slightly faint, “Tiebreaker, huh?”

Cain nods, then uses the hand he has on Dean’s shoulder to lead him over to the man he had previously been talking to. The guy has been hovering since Dean arrived, looking awkward in the background, and Dean tries not to look as wary as he feels when they are introduced.

Who is he? A producer? Some random pick from the crew? He definitely doesn’t seem confident in this environment, and he’s gorgeous enough that Dean knows he would remember if he’d seen him before. He looks like he’s straight out of every chick flick Dean has ever seen, with his dark, tousled hair and perfect, pink lips.

“Dean, this is Castiel Novak. You might know him as his pen name, CJ Novak—he is the author of the novel Beyond the Midnight Hour is based upon.”

Dean’s mouth goes dry. “Oh,” he says without quite meaning to. He’s heard of CJ Novak. Then, with as much enthusiasm as he can muster and a hand stuck out in Castiel’s direction, “It’s great to meet you, man. I didn’t realize this was based on a book, but based on how awesome the cut-down screenplay version is looking, you must be an amazing author.”

Castiel’s cheeks dust pink, and he belatedly accepts Dean’s offered hand. His palm is smooth and warm against Dean’s own. “Thank you, Mr. Winchester. That’s very kind of you to say.”

Once the handshake has ended, Dean gives Castiel the most charming smile he can muster. It’s not as easily managed as he might have liked, with his nerves ratcheting up as quickly as they are, but—he’s pursuing a career in acting for a reason. He can do this.

And Dean isn’t an idiot. Cain said they needed a tiebreaker, so who better to make the final decision than the man who created the story that’s being put to screen? Dean isn’t going to resort to flirting or anything so cheap to try to win the author over, but that doesn’t mean he can’t be as charismatic as possible.

“I really do want to read it,” he says, now that a beat has passed after Castiel’s thanks. “How different is—”

At that moment, there’s a knock against the conference room door. It swings inward to reveal a pair of unfamiliar faces. “Cain?” one of them calls. “Can we steal you for a second?”

“Of course.” Cain smiles at the pair in the doorway, then turns back to Dean and Castiel to clap a hand to each of their shoulders. “I’ll be back shortly. I’ll see about rounding up the rest of the producers, too, before Michael arrives. Play nice, you two.”

Cain strides out of the room without a backwards glance. When the door closes behind him, the conference room is thrown into an awkward silence. Dean and Castiel both stare at the door instead of each other. Castiel shifts his weight from one foot to the other; Dean clears his throat. They end up turning to each other at the exact same time.

“Well, I guess—”

“I feel like I should apologize—”

Each of them cuts off. Dean’s smile turns sheepish, and Castiel presses his lips together in embarrassment.

“Uh—sorry.” Dean forces himself to chuckle and rubs uncomfortably at the back of his neck. Smooth, Winchester. “What do you want to apologize for?”

“I was going to apologize in advance for being as socially awkward as I am,” Castiel confesses with a chuckle that’s far more authentic than Dean’s had been. “But I think I proved myself quickly enough on that matter. Cain promised me he wouldn’t leave me alone, and yet…”

Oh. Well. Now Dean feels even more awkward. He tries to push through it. “Well, I can’t exactly say anything for Cain ditching you with me, but I’ll try not to make this any harder on you than it has to be. I’m a chill guy, I promise.”

Castiel squints at him like he doesn’t know how to interpret that statement. Dean’s confidence begins to fizzle.

He swallows hard. “Anyways, uh. I know actors tend to be flashy assholes, but that’s not my style. My little brother’s a quiet type, too, so believe me when I say that’s something I can handle. He’s going through law school right now. Pretty different path than the one I’m on.”

Castiel tilts his head at that, intrigued. “Those are definitely very different paths,” he agrees. “Your brother wants to serve people, and you want to entertain them. Why?”

Dean shrugs. “Just our lots in life, I guess. Sam’s always been a brainiac. Reading, writing, following along with political activist groups. I modelled a bit when I was a teenager, and I followed that line of work to make sure I stayed employed. Money’s important when you’re raising a kid sibling as your own.”

“Raising him as your own?” Castiel echoes, but Dean is sure that they’ve already discussed this more than they should. They’re not here to talk about him.

Or, well. Maybe they are, in a way. But not like this. His personal drama doesn’t mean a damn thing, as far as his career is concerned.

“How different is Beyond the Midnight Hour the book from Beyond the Midnight Hour the movie?”

“Oh. Um.” Castiel clears his throat, but thankfully has the good grace to let the subject be changed. He settles his weight back on his heels as he switches to thinking about a subject he’s actually familiar with. Dean can see how much it relaxes him; the difference in his posture is like night and day. “Actually, the novel I wrote is called Outside the Midnight Hour. After the film rights were sold, the studio came to me with the idea of changing it for the movie adaptation. Something about original titles and alphabetic preference, I don’t fully remember. I was too happy to be getting a movie to care.”

“Oh.” Dean wrinkles his nose without thinking. “You weren’t offended by that? I mean, you must have worked your ass off to write that book, and then after all that, some studio mooks decided to just change the title for their own reasons? The title can be the trickiest part of the whole book, right? That doesn’t sound fair.”

Castiel blinks rapidly, then stares at Dean in what seems to be a stunned silence. It takes a while for him for respond, and when he does, there’s a distant note to his voice. “I… I hadn’t actually thought about it in those terms. I wasn’t offended, but… Should I have been?”

Dean shrugs. “I don’t know. If you aren’t offended, you aren’t offended, I don’t have any right to tell you how to feel. You seem like a good guy, though, Castiel—”

“Cas.”

Dean loses his grip on his rant. “What?”

Castiel’s cheeks have turned pink again. “A lot of my friends call me Cas.”

“Oh. Cas. Okay.” Dean’s face feels a bit warmer than usual now, too, because—is it just him, or does that make it sound like the two of them are becoming friends? Maybe it’s a bit too early for them to actually be at that point, but if nothing else, it’s definitely an invitation.

He clears his throat and makes an effort to remember what it was he had been saying. “Um—anyway. If you’re not offended about the title thing, that’s fine. I probably shouldn’t be saying shit that might pit you against the studio, anyway. Not if I want this job.”

“I’ve already signed my contracts,” Cas says, waving his hand in a vague gesture. “I can’t be turned against anyone. But your perspective is… interesting.” He assesses Dean for a moment, then asks, “If I were to tell you that I was offended by the change in title. What would you do about it?”

The answer to that is an easy one. Dean knows what he would do without a second of hesitation. And, even though he swears he can hear Charlie’s voice in the back of his mind telling him that it’s a bad idea, he gives that answer to Cas.

“If you weren’t into it, I wouldn’t do this movie. I know I already said this, but the screenplay is fucking incredible. You created a great story with great characters. If this movie didn’t respect your vision and earn your support, I wouldn’t want to support it, either.”

Cas’ expression goes slack with the force of his surprise. Dean can’t blame him for the reaction; he’s sure it’s not what Michael would have said.

(Dean has never met the guy, but he seems like a stuck-up prick, so he doesn’t exactly have any desire to. He knows enough from interviews and general gossip, thanks.)

“Why would you give up this film?” Cas asks—demands, really. Once he gets a grip on his surprise, he verges on being angry. “I know your work history, so I know this project is a huge opportunity for you. You told me that you started acting with the hopes of supporting your brother. This would be a better paycheck than any you have ever seen, which could help both of you. So why the hell would my opinion of something as inane as the title convince you to give up your chance?”

“Well… not just the title..” Maybe his logic doesn’t feel quite as sound now that Cas has thrown it back at him like that, but that doesn’t mean Dean is going to change his mind. “It’s your story. I’m just some guy who might be allowed to act it out. One of those things is way more important than the other.”

Cas reels back slightly. “Dean Winchester,” he starts to say, but for a long moment, nothing follows it. Dean waits, feeling uneasy (and definitely like he has blown his chance and used this alone time with Cas all wrong).

Then Cas finishes, “Dean Winchester, you are phenomenal.” In the same breath, he turns his head toward the conference room door and shouts, “Cain?”

It only takes a handful of seconds for Cain to appear, opening the door and strolling through it without a care in the world. There’s no one with him, Michael or otherwise. Dean frowns.

“Any thoughts, Castiel?” Cain asks, casting a cautious look in Dean’s direction. Cas is quick to answer him, though, redrawing his attention completely.

“Dean is the one. I would like him to have the role over Michael.”

Dean’s has just about hits the floor. He turns to Cas, abruptly feeling dizzy and certainly not understanding what the hell is happening. “What? But I… I haven’t even been in the same room as him, yet. Why would you pick me? I mean, his name alone—”

Cas cuts him off with a shake of his head. “I already spoke with Michael earlier in the day. When he thought he had a few, secret minutes alone with me, he spent his time trying to impress me with his reputation and connections. He flat-out offered to introduce me to my favorite actor if he was given the part.”

Dean blinks. “And you didn’t want to take him up on that?”

Cas shakes his head and graces Dean with a small, secret kind of smile. “I think I have a new favorite actor now, anyway. And he’s much kinder. He cares about the work itself instead of just getting the job. Better looking, too, if I’m being honest.”

Cain muffles a chuckle behind his hand. Dean stares up at him in surprise; Cas is so absorbing that Dean already managed to forget that he came back into the room. And when he does look up, the director offers Dean his hand. “I’m looking forward to working with you, Dean. I’ll make sure everything you’ll need to look through gets sent along to your agent.”

“I—” Dean swallows hard. He’s dangerously close to getting choked up, but he eagerly shakes Cain’s hand nonetheless. “Thank you, sir. I’m looking forward to working with you, too. I appreciate this opportunity.”

There. Charlie would be proud of him for that line.

Dean can sense that the meeting (or ambush, really, since that’s what it turned out to be) is going to come to an end now that the casting decision has been declared. Part of him feels like he should keep his mouth shut and let that happen, not push his luck, but as soon as Cas starts to walk away from him, presumably toward the door, something like panic grips at Dean, and he instinctively reaches after him.

“Hey Cas, wait up—” Dean leaves Cain Mullen behind in favor of catching Castiel Novak by his elbow. Cas is slow to turn around to look at him, and when he does, his blue eyes have gone round with surprise. And god, with a face like that, how is this guy just the brains behind the story? It’s almost ridiculous.

Nerves bubble through Dean, and he gently releases Cas’ elbow. Neither of them moves to put any additional space between them, though.

“I was just, uh. I was wondering.” Shit, when did Dean become so bad at this? “Do you want to maybe… grab coffee? Or something? You know, new favorite actor to new favorite author? You never did tell me how different Outside the Midnight Hour is from its movie adaptation.”

Cas stares at him. “I suppose I didn’t,” he concedes. Then, after a moment of deliberation, a smile steadily stretches across his features, lighting him up. “Favorite actor to favorite author, you say?”

Dean feigns a casual shrug. “Kinder and better looking than any other author I know.”

It’s right then that Dean learns that, when Cas smiles widely enough, his nose and eyes wrinkle with it. He already loves the look of it, even before it turns out to accompany the words, “I would very much like to get coffee with you.”

[simplelinesunfashiond]

Highway to Hellsite

Because @abalonetea low-key encouraged me to finish an AU scene despite not knowing what it was, and @idreamonpaper and @drabbleitout actually encouraged this weirdness at one point, and I have no willpower when it comes to both spoiling and embarassing the hell out of Jackson Alistair Lewis. A short non-magical AU about blogging and your obvious crush on a celebrity going viral.

Jackson Alistair woke to the sound of his phone obsessively buzzing in his ear. He moved, stretched, felt something pop in his back and slowly lowered himself back onto the pillow, blinking at the ceiling for far longer than he supposed he really needed to. He had some things to consider, though nothing so much to worry about, he thought. He had survived the gala, uploaded a decent number of shots, and, overall, not completely flopped at his first press event. Good. It all faded out, a little, in comparison to the real reason he was even invited. Being the administrator of the first known DawnShadow fan page wasn’t much for a marketing resume, but damn if it wasn’t good for getting in close with DawnShadow’s marketing team when the band reformed and started catching on. So, maybe his interests hadn’t been one hundred percent professional.

The event certainly had been, at any rate. A fundraiser, a big deal. He hadn’t actually known much about the organization up front, just that it was run by the founder of a network of medical facilities. He knew who that man was, though. And he knew who that man’s second-in-command on his medical staff was. And if there was one thing that was bound to get Nathaniel Ettonridge out into the world, it was his crazy-genious daughter. Even if the band hadn’t been contracted to perform at the more public part of the event (which, thank whatever powers, they had), Nat would be sure to make an appearance. And what an appearance it had been, though the tailored coat was nothing compared to the guitar god on his arm. There had always been rumors, but this was…Well, whatever it was, it felt important. Maybe just because he'd spent so long looking at ancient pictures and wondering, but...maybe not that, really.

The phone buzzed again, and he finally bothered to look at it. A lot of new notifications, more honestly than he’d expected – in fact, suspiciously many. And a few messages from Sydney, who hadn’t dragged herself clear across the country just to watch him snap pictures at an event she wasn’t actually invited to. Understandable. The messages were about what he expected. How was the event, was it exciting meeting everyone, how did he end up getting on stage? And then, a little bit of a different one.

“Did you bring anyone back with you? ;)”

Of course not, and what sort of strange question was that? He asked her as much.

“I’m just teasing. But we’ve talked about this. You can tell me anything. I did figure it was probably a joke, though…” A joke? What was a joke? After a minute of him not answering, another alert snapped him back. “…” And then another. “You haven’t seen it yet?”

He flipped on instinct back to the notifications. A lot of new traffic, likes, reblogs, retweets, notes from all over the series of pages he’d been maintaining across their different platforms. And then, before all that, the ominous truth of the matter.

“Kim ‘at’ed me in something?” he asked, out loud, and then paused to consider the odd sensation of trying to say “@” out loud. What was more, it was a post from another blog, someone he had met the night before. He paused, thought about it before he even attempted to open it, and couldn’t recall anything that had occurred between him and Sarra being interesting enough to go viral. Finally, he went to her account, and stared for a long moment at the odd gradients that served as placeholders for what must have been a completely unreasonable amount of pictures. He glanced over his shoulder to his laptop, and wondered if it was worth another attempt to connect to the hotel’s terrible wifi. Finally, after far too long, the images began to materialize. He scrolled around a little, not looking, just moving the screen up and down, and wondered in an aggravatingly sincere confusion how someone else’s hellsite post had managed to send that much attention to him not just on said hellsite, but across the board.

He scrolled back to the top.

It had only one line of explanation. “The most interesting thing that happened all night.” And the first picture under that wasn’t one she had taken. It was a screenshot of one of his. And so were a few of the ones after that. And there were a few of her pictures, of him, usually of him taking pictures, of…Well, until he saw them all in one place, he hadn’t realized just how many pictures he had taken of the same person. The first large swath of reblogs were all Sarra, adding more pictures to the string.

People, at first. It was just a very striking image, one he couldn’t possibly pass up. The fact that Dr. Orion Lourandera’s other main celebrity contacts were royalty in the fashion industry, and his own siblings, was too good to be true. At first glance, the twins were almost indistinguishable from each other. Jackson wasn’t totally sure if the garments they were wearing would be considered gowns or coats, but the long gauzy material, all blue and green and teal with glints of gold, trailed to the floor like peacocks’ feathers. The sister was the one with her hair swept up and pinned, the one who never took her sunglasses off. The other, with short hair swept back and impractically high heels, was the brother. At some point, his outermost layer – apparently some sort of jacket – was discarded, to reveal that the rest of whatever sort of couture clothing item that was, was open down most of the back. Intricate scrolling tattoos of very small text ran from the base of his neck down his spine to the small of his back, and Jackson remembered wondering just how close one would have to get to actually be able to read it. He did not, on the other hand, remember just how many pictures he'd tried to get of it. Or how long he'd actually stared while wondering, though that was apparently long enough for Sarra to notice and snap a few pictures of Jackson frozen like a statue with his camera half forgotten as the rest of the guests moved around him. It was a decently long exposure, if the motion blurs on everyone else were anything to judge by.

He finally managed to scroll past the vast swath of his pictures of Anderson Lourandera, with its handful of pictures of himself, before the next section started. This one was all pictures of Jackson, posted by an instagram account he'd never heard of before. Something private maybe? The first one had managed to clearly catch the moment the doorman had IDed him, and how much taller everyone else around him was, and was simply captioned, “Whose baby is this??? Why is he here alone???” with a teary-eyed emoji and a random selection of hearts. The one after was Jackson, as well as a few other camera-wielders, and based on the small lock of blonde hair in the corner of the image, this was a picture that Anderson had discreetly taken over his own shoulder while leaning dramatically on the bar. “These media boys think I'm posing for them. They must never learn the truth. #too drunk for these heels #i will literally fall over #no srsly #someone #stop ogling and help me #dammit."

The captions weren't all exactly coherent, but there were…Well, there were a lot of pictures of Jackson. Including a very zoomed in one of him showing his ID to the bartender. His info had, thankfully, been blurred out, but based on the small excited-looking key smash, whatever had been seen was exciting. Oh, Jackson realized, thinking back to the first picture, the fact that this man had thought he was a child, my age I guess.

And then, there was one of him talking to Sarra, who was pointedly side-eyeing the camera. “Askfbsi I've been caught,” and then a very distraught little emoji.

Then, there were the concert shots. A couple of Jackson in the crowd, looking particularly giddy, and captions pointing it out. Then, a few posts with no pictures, just black, with very over-excited and unspecific captions. And finally, the part where he ended up on stage, himself.

Jackson still remembered the feeling of awe, like a coronation, when the strap of the PRS was lowered over his head, the feeling of the strings under his finger, the mother-of-pearl inlays glinting under the stage lights. Nix, with the same ancient red Fender, cluing him in on the set, testing his knowledge on a couple things. No problem. That's why Jackson was here – he was the guy who knew it all.

It was only screenshots but it was clearly a series of videos. When he got to tear into his favorite solo. The moment of shock he'd hoped nobody had noticed when Nathaniel hit that note in Firebird. Nathaniel daring Jackson to do the vocals for Twilight Angel. People cheered, good-natured but egging him on, until he agreed. Sarra had interjected in the next post to add the link to the full video, with a struck-through comment of “no but for real he was amazing go watch it.”

And, in glorious conclusion, a picture Sarra had taken herself, a panoramic view of the scene, of the over-dramatic rapturous look, head tossed back, laughing out loud, of Jackson killing the last solo in the outro of Visions of Midnight on one edge of the image, and, on the other side, Anderson Lourandera, gaze locked on the stage, skin tinted with a faint alcohol-induced blush. One shining with energy, and with the aid of stagelights, the other a vibrant beacon standing out of a sea of dark suits and satin and velvet winter dresses. It was, Jackson concluded, a very odd scene, and it suggested that people had shown up with the image of a more political event in their minds. That seemed like it should have been important, but he couldn't place why. Couldn't quite care. Found himself forgetting, failing to notice, a little more every time he looked back at the picture. He did manage to notice that the artistry of it put every one of his shots to shame.

A few other comments came up under that, a lot of people gushing about various aspects, and a few repeating the demand to know who this kid was. And then, the conclusion, which had been reblogged back to Sarra's page as well. A screenshot of a select few of the posts from Jackson's “house of light" tag, which had existed long before the gala but which now included a couple of last night's pictures, and a screenshot of part of the House of Light's official blog, including a couple of shots of Jackson walking out in a long-hemmed vintage velvet coat that, now that he thought about it, was actually from HoL. The tags underneath included the phrase “#if you see this #call us.” And that was where the “@” appeared. Kim's commentary read, “Admins for @visionsofdawnshadow and @houseoflight-courtofshadow need to quit being horny on main.”

Jackson stared at it for a long moment, then took a screenshot of the whole thing and, after another minute if hesitation, sent it to Sydney.

“Is this what you meant?” he asked.

“Don't freak out,” Sydney answered. “Besides, like I said, I was already pretty sure nothing happened…”

“Why?”

“Well, I know who you are so…I called? The west coast shop. Mostly talked to Eva. (Cuuute accents, by the way).”

Jackson's brain failed to formulate more than “…,” so that was what he sent her.

“It's no secret they work a lot with the band, so he's heading back east with them.”

…

“Aaand it wouldn't hurt to have an assistant/photographer/model/killer musician on board for that kind of project?”

. . .

“…We sort of figured…you might want the job. She thought maybe you could meet with them before you leave? If you don't want to I can totally call her back!”

Jackson switched back to the page of Sarra and Kim's pictures, stared at that panorama for a minute. Saved it. Looked again. Reblogged it to his own page, added a relevantly embarrassed-looking gif. Wrote back to Sydney, “Just tell me where to go.” Then, a second later, “Also, I love you.”

[mytearsrricochet]

hey kiddos I've been seeing so many people posting about them starting college this upcoming school year and 1. congratulations 2. I have some things I'd like to share about college experiences in general, though I realize they may not pertain to everyone’s college experience, but if I can help at least a few people I'm good! so here is Hannah’s Declassified Freshman Year of College Survival Guide, sorted by the kind of advice I'm gonna give. It’s a lot.

Additionally, if you want more info on anything on this list, message or DM me and I'll be happy to talk more about something or elaborate. It’s an extensive but not an exhaustive list.

Finances/Scholarships/Loans/What’s Usually included in your tuition

if you get a refund from scholarships or loans, don’t spend it unless it’s for educational expenses!!! that’s what it’s for, not for a shopping spree. I learned that the hard way! it’s usually decent amount of money (~$2000 or so is the usual at my school) so don’t go crazy over it

scholarships aren’t just available for your first year. you can reapply for a lot of them even after you first year, as long as it is noted that the scholarship is not just for incoming freshmen students.

FAFSA opens up October 1 every year. file it before February 1 to receive priority awards! you can file afterwards, but you are unlikely to receive a good grant/loan/other award after priority deadline. yes, you still have to fill out FAFSA after freshman year. you fill it out between October and February every year that you request aid in college. if you have a renewable scholarship, it is imperative that you continue to submit your FAFSA.

schools can also use FAFSA to give you an award from the school, which could be a donor, fund, or institutional scholarship. so you may not get anything from the government such as a pell grant, but you can still get something from the school.

just about every school I looked at during my own admissions process had some sort of financial coaching. if you don’t trust yourself with money and finances, such as with your refund or your personal finances, consider meeting with them. this is usually included in your tuition. 

your university sends out a detailed receipt of what is included in your tuition. it’s important to look over these costs, as you will be paying for lots of services that you may not even know about. most universities include campus gyms, campus-sponsored organizations, and sometimes local transportation (such as public buses) in your tuition, so take advantage of what you are paying for.

Academics/Major

most of you will NOT be going directly into your major. I had no idea pre-major was a thing until college. it may not be like this everywhere, and it is often just for specific majors, but for most people your first and probably second year of college you are in a pre-major. you apply for your actual major sometime during second year most likely, and you have to be accepted to the major in order to graduate with it.

you’re allowed to change your major!!! I did within my first few months, and I promise you, you will feel better if you’re doubting your major and you just change it. 

make sure to transfer any AP/dual credit courses from high school. most schools will make you manually transfer them, like they don’t accept them simply from your high school transcripts. you will have to contact the school you got college credit from / send them your AP test scores by yourself. literally ANY kind of credit helps! it may not count for pre-major or GE credit, but it can count for an open credit, which just gives you hours towards your graduation. you usually need a specific amount of hours to graduate, so getting any of them while you can is helpful.

look at RateMyProfessors and Reddit to get ideas of which classes you should take if you have a choice, like a GE credit. something may sound interesting to you, but honestly if people online say it’s a really challenging class, don’t take it in case it screws up your GPA. GE credits mean nothing but the fact that they’re GE credits. you have to take them, and they don’t benefit your major whatsoever (in a direct way at least), so honestly, save yourself the imminent failure and stress over a stupid course and take the easy ones that are recommended via those websites/older students.

in your freshman year, make a 4 year plan. I've had one since I changed my major and it has every class I intend to take on it along with the requirement it satisfies and how many credit hours it is. I also have back-ups in case the classes are full when I schedule for them. this is very helpful when it comes to scheduling, as you will not have to scramble to figure out the classes you need in time.

that 8 am class might seem like nbd, but be honest with yourself. if you don’t wake up before noon on the weekends, you’re probably not going to like waking up at 7 every day. plan your class times realistically.

that also goes for night classes. don’t take a 3 hour lab at 7 pm if you know you’re going to skip it to sleep or hang out with friends!

form study groups in your classes if you can manage it!!! people aren’t going to think you’re weird if you approach them and ask if they want to study with you or if you want a group to get together for the final.

utilize your library/libraries on campus. they are very quiet and can be very helpful when you need to focus.

don’t study in your dorm room. condition yourself to see your dorm as a place to relax, sleep, and socialize, so that you come back to your room feeling more refreshed and peaceful. if you study in your room, you can condition yourself to view it as an academic place, which may cause anxiety.

if you change your major later in the game, or you know you can’t graduate “on time” (which usually means within 4 years or 8 semesters), it’s ok to take more semesters of college. you are not a failure or degenerate. lots of people do it, and you are not out of the ordinary if you choose to or need to do so in order to graduate with the degree you want.

keep in mind any professional school you may want to attend post-undergrad. this can be med school, law school, or other graduate programs. some of these schools have certain requirements that you need to fulfill during undergrad. be aware of these requirements so that you can get into your continuing school of choice.

honors or scholars programs don’t mean much in the outside world, but if you have the chance and the time, consider doing them. they can be very rewarding personally, but if it’s going to put more stress than necessary on you, it’s okay not to join one.

Personal/Social Life in College

some of you will have a difficult time adjusting to college. it is an extremely different environment if you live on campus or otherwise don’t live at home anymore, so be prepared for a bit of a culture shock. there’s nothing you can really do about it, it’s just something you have to settle into. and I promise you will eventually.

and some of you will adjust to college life with no trouble at all, even if it’s a different experience than you’re used to, and that’s ok! you’re not weird. I had no transitional period and I'm totally fine.

it’s ok to miss home, but they recommend at least 6 weeks before you visit home again. I don’t really know why, but that’s a number my university stressed a lot in orientation and other places. and it honestly helps. 4-6 weeks away from home and basically forcing yourself to be homesick until you adjust helps!

you will probably sign up for a lot of clubs/organizations within your first weeks and receive a bunch of emails and attend 0-2 meetings throughout the year. that’s ok. but try to get involved with at least one thing because involvement is really helpful for your resume.

so, everything in college is for your resume. absolutely everything.

not necessarily your freshman year, but sometime in college try for a leadership position in something. it’ll help lots of skills like leadership, organizational, communication, and more!

I know you want your free time, and you can have it, but get a job if you can!!!!

GET A JOB ON CAMPUS IF YOU CAN HELP IT!!! you can use it if you qualify for work-study, or if there are positions open for regular jobs without work-study, you can get that too! they will plan around your schedule and are very understanding of anything that arises due to school or other stuff.

most schools are tobacco-free campuses. I know juuls are all the rage, but be careful with them.

fake IDs....yeah. you’ll probably get one freshman year if you enjoy partying and want more than just frat parties. but be careful with them, truly honestly. possession of a false ID can carry heavy charges and fines and can put you in a position to lose your scholarships or have other scary punishments. if you have a fake ID that doesn’t have your face or name, that can be considered identity theft, which can be even more detrimental. just...be careful.

check your school’s counseling or wellness coaching services if you feel as though you need therapy or general life tips.

Academic Materials/Textbooks/Etc Tips

amazon marketplace has a bunch of really amazing deals on renting and buying textbooks! your school will probably have some sort of bookstore on campus and/or nearby that will ask $100 for a textbook, but I've rented from amazon for as little as $9. all you have to do is send it back the time they ask you, which they give you plenty of time to do so. you can also purchase new or used books for a discounted price.

chegg is like $15/month, but if you can get some friends to go in it with you, it’s a great resource. you can order textbooks, see problems completely solved step-by-step, and receive other academic resources.

Wolfram-alpha is a good site that helps you solve math problems! I'm not sure what difficulty level it goes to, but anything helps with college math.

if you want to go into a professional school (grad school, med school, law school, etc) oftentimes older students will sell or give books for free that help you study for entry exams, such as the MCAT or LSAT. be aware when you are looking, and these people might be involved in the same orgs that you are!

Greek Life

be careful when it comes to greek life. they can be very dangerous if you wander into or join the wrong chapter.

they can also be super rewarding! I myself am in a sorority. I chose it based on the kind of women that were already in the sorority, in the morals that they presented during recruitment.

if you want to join greek life, sororities typically have formal recruitment, where you visit every house. there are lots of rounds with specific things discussed at each one. fraternities generally have a rather informal recruitment, where the men choose which fraternities to go to, and they can get bids rather informally.

sororities also do informal recruitment, which is basically like frats: you choose which sorority to go to, and they may or may not offer you a bid. it’s a very laidback process, as opposed to formal recruitment, which is very rigid and scheduled.

there is a hype around frat parties in modern shows and movies, which can sometimes hold true. but, sometimes not. it’s important that you know where you’re going rather than wander around your school’s greek row and hope you stumble upon a party. the one time my friends and I did that, one of my friends was raped, and we didn’t know where we were. we found out later, and had we known what that party was, based off of what we had previously heard about that frat, we never would have gone in.

greek rank sites are not really trustworthy. the only people who rank greek life are those who are too passionate about it. passion can be a good thing, but greek life is supposed to be a family and community where everyone involved is like a brother and sister to each other. unfortunately, competition does happen, but it’s best not to feed into it.

attend philanthropy events even if you’re not involved in greek life! it helps raise money for the chapter’s philanthropy, and they’re usually so much fun!

check your school’s alcohol policy regarding frat parties. for example, my school only allows beer and wine at frat parties. liquor is strictly prohibited. of course, frats don’t always follow those rules, but if you’re caught there with liquor, the frat might not be the only one that gets in trouble.

do not let people haze you!!!! there are chapters that haze, though it is far more popular among frats, but there are also chapters that do not. always join the chapters that do not. you should never put your well-being below some greek kids on a power trip.

[bee-kathony]

Call Me By Your Name | Ch. 1 - Albicocche

a/n: Huge thank you to @abbydebeaupreposts​ for being my beta for this chapter and helping me work out some of the kinks! I’m thinking this will be a four parter.

Somewhere in Northern Italy, 1983

John leaned back against the pillows, one hand behind his head, “When is he coming?” Isobel asked and plopped down on the bed beside him.

“Any minute now, his plane arrived this morning from Scotland.” John quirked his eyebrows up, he knew Isobel had a thing for Scottish men.

Every year, John’s family spent the summer at their Italian home and their neighbours, the Dunsanys accompanied them, owning the decently sized house next door. Italy was a nice change from the cold stuffy weather of England. “I wonder what he’ll be like?” John rose from his bed to look out the window, but there was no sign of a car approaching.

“Perhaps he’ll be like the last one, a conceited know-it-all,” Isobel laughed, brushing her hands through her stringy brown hair. John liked Isobel, she was sweet and they fooled around sometimes but he wasn’t attracted to her, it was just a youthful exploration.

“Yeah, let’s hope not.” John said under his breath. John’s father was an archaeologist and, during the summer months, he would hire an assistant come to help him catalogue his findings. They were always young men, working on their PhDs, somewhere in Europe. Just then a honk came from outside the open window and he heard the faint sound of his father’s footsteps on the cobblestone pavement. “That must be him.” John and Isobel ran down the stairs to get a glimpse of the new assistant who would be with them for six weeks.

“Welcome! Welcome!” His father, Gerard said as he greeted the red haired man, “Oh, my, you’re much bigger than your pictures!” He laughed placed his hand on the back of the man’s shoulder. The large man was clad in loose cotton shorts and a billowing half unbuttoned dress shirt with sunglasses hanging between the material.

In a thick Scottish accent, the man replied, “Och, I couldna fit all of myself in the pictures it seems.” John liked him immediately, his clothes, his chiseled jaw and that accent — he could listen to it all day. This was all very superficial of course, but he hoped he would get to know more about him over his stay.

As his father and the man approached him, John stuck out his hand in introduction, “Hi, I’m John Grey.”

The tall man took his hand, firm in his grip, “Jamie Fraser.” He smiled, and there was a warmth that fell over John and he was now very much looking forward to the summer.

Jamie walked past John and he caught a slight whiff of lavender and whisky. “Make yourself at home, Jamie. “La nostra casa è ora la tua casa.” Gerard led Jamie around, giving him a quick tour while John followed closely behind. Isobel waved goodbye and turned to head back to her own house next door, John almost missed her departure due to the fact that he was staring at the back of Jamie’s head, watching his auburn curls bounce with every step.

“John, dear, will you take Jamie’s things up to his room?” His mother, Benedicta, asked him, her hand soft on his shoulder as she shook him out of his daze. She gave him a knowing look, one John didn’t quite know the full meaning behind but as her eyes darted over to Jamie, he blushed and kissed her on the cheek.

John then looked over at Jamie who was staring at him, his own smile plastered on his face. “Follow me,” John called to Jamie and started up the stairs to his room, which adjoined Jamie’s with a shared bathroom.

“’Tis a lovely house ye have, John.” Jamie remarked as they walked through the halls.

“Oh thanks. It’s quite different from our home in England and I love the weather here. I’m sure you’ll find it’s a nice change from the Scottish rain.” He laughed and set the suitcase he’d been carrying on the floor of his bedroom.

Jamie’s shoulder brushed against him as he passed. John watched as the large Scot jumped onto the bed face first with a sigh.

“If you need anything, my room is connected through the bath right there,” John looked down at Jamie but there was no response as he had fallen asleep.

“A lazy one aren’t we.” John smiled to himself and crossed through the bathroom to his own room and sat down at his desk, resuming writing a letter to his brother who was currently back in England. John missed his brother, Hal, it was usually the two of them all summer, riding around Italy, chasing girls and staying out all night. But since Hal got the internship with the Prime Minister, he wasn’t able to join them this year.

An hour later, his mother was calling up for them to join them downstairs for dinner. He stood from his desk, laying his headphones over his journal and crossed through the bathroom to his old room. Jamie was splayed across the bed, arms out and mouth agape. John noticed that Jamie was smiling in his sleep which he found quite endearing.

Walking over to his bookshelf, John picked up a heavy book and “dropped” it on the ground with a loud thud. Jamie immediately jumped and stirred, his eyes opening to stare up at John.

“We’re being called down to dinner,” John said, his gaze never leaving the ocean blue eyes.

“Och, I’ll have to pass this time. Was up all night packing and saying goodbye to friends,” he sighed and closed his eyes again.

John walked to the door, “Oh and could ye close the door?” Jamie said and promptly pushed his head back against the pillow.

++++++

The next morning, John sat outside with his parents over breakfast. The house had a large orchard on the property that grew fresh fruits like peaches, apricots and pomegranates. John took a sip of his apricot juice as he heard the loud steps of what could only be Jamie descending.

“Ah, look who it is,” Gerard said, raising his hands in the air, “Jamie, recovered have we?”

Jamie took the seat next to his father and picked up a boiled egg, immediately peeling the shell off. “Aye, the moment my head hit the pillow, I was out. I didna even hear John come back from dinner.” At the sound of his name on Jamie’s lips, John felt something in him stir, curiosity maybe?

“That’s great, Jamie, I’m glad you could rest,” Benedicta smiled across the table, pouring him a glass of apricot juice.

John sat back quietly, eating the bits of his breakfast and just watched as Jamie took the proffered glass and slowly drank the juice, a little bit of the orange liquid spilling down his mouth and neck.

“This apricot juice is most likely the best thing I have ev’r had!” Jamie sighed and set the glass back down on the table and his mother refilled it to the top. John looked at his father, amused, already knowing what he’s going to say.

“The word apricot comes from the Arabic — it’s like the words ‘algebra’, ‘alchemy’, and ‘alcohol’,” Gerard said to Jamie, “It derives from an Arabic noun combined with the Arabic article ‘al-‘ before it. The origin of our Italian ‘albicocca’ was ‘al-barquq’…”

Benedicta tries to hide her smile and picks up the morning newspaper from the table as Gerard continues, “It’s amazing that today in Israel and many Arab countries, the fruit is referred to by a totally different name: ‘mishmish’.”

The corner of Jamie’s lips quirked and John settled in to his chair, “I beg to differ.”

“Ah, do you?”

“The word is not actually an Arabic word.” Jamie replied, folding his hands over his firm stomach.

“How so?” Gerard replied with a smirk of his own.

“I’m diving into a bit of etymology, one of my passions, so bear with me,” the Scot laughed, “Many Latin words are derived from the Greek. In the case of ‘apricot’, however, it’s the other way around.” Jamie grins over at John, catching him off guard and John felt a blush creep up his neck.

“Here the Greek takes over from Latin. The Latin word was ‘praecoquum’, from ‘pre-coquere’, pre-cook, to ripen early, as in precocious, meaning premature.” John watched Jamie’s lips ast they formed the complicated words.

“The Byzantines - to go on -“ he laughed again, “borrowed ‘praecox’, and it became ‘prekokkia’ or ‘berikokki’, which is finally how the Arabs must have inherited it as ‘al-barquq’.”

The Grey family was silent, sharing looks between one another until John laughed and Gerard said, “Passed with flying colours.” Jamie looks from his father to his mother before settling his eyes on John.

“He does this every year.” John laughed, remembering the one man who came to stay with them one year who had no idea what any of it meant and agreed with his father on his wrong understanding of the derivation of the word.

John finished the rest of his own juice and looked back to Jamie, “I can show you around today.”

“Aye, that’d be great.” Smiling he took another bite of his fourth egg and reached for a piece of toast.

++++++

John led Jamie through the small town on bikes, the sun scorching high in the sky, a gentle summer breeze in the air. They peddled to a small cafe in an unpopulated area and took a seat across from each other at a small table.

“So John, what do you do around here?” Jamie asked, taking a sip of his iced latte, his eyebrows raised in question.

John licked his lips, tasting salty perspiration, “I read mostly, go out at night — play chess.”

“Oh I love chess! We’ll have to play together sometime,” Jamie offered, his legs crossed under the table and bumped against John’s knee.

“Great. I’ll probably beat you, just letting you know,” John grinned and took a long sip of his own iced coffee.

“We shall see about that,” the Scot said, his blue eyes crinkling against the rays of the sun. John stared back into the Scots eyes and thought he saw a flicker of flirtation but it was gone as soon as it came.

“When you go out,” Jamie said, his hand brushing back loose curls that fell over his eyes, “are there girls that go wi’ ye?”

“Of course, there always are. You’ll meet our neighbors soon, the Dunsanys, they have two daughters around my age.”

“A bit young for me perhaps,” Jamie attempted a wink, “How old are ye anyways?” He laughed.

John answered, suddenly feeling like a child, too young to be taken seriously, “I’m nineteen.”

“Och, I coulda sworn ye were at least twenty or twenty-one.” Jamie grinned, taking another sip of his latte, “I’m twenty-three, so only a four year age difference.”

“Are you religious?” John suddenly asked, out of the blue, pointing to a silver cross necklace hanging around Jamie’s neck.

Holding the small cross between his fingers, Jamie smiled, “Och, I’m Catholic, born and raised, are ye religious at all, John?”

“Oh yes, my family is Church of England. Although we don’t necessarily partake in everything – casual you could say,” his lip quirked up at the side, earning a similar smile from Jamie.

It was ease of conversation that John liked when he talked with Jamie. Nothing was forced, no one was trying too hard.

They finished their coffees in silence and both stood to climb back on to their bikes. John was unstable and as he put his foot on the peddle his foot slipped, causing the bike to push against Jamie. His hand reflexively went out and clutched at Jamie’s shoulder to hold himself steady, a wave of electricity went through his body at the contact.

“Sorry,” John stammered and righted himself back on the bike.

“’Tis no worries, mate.” Jamie smiled and together they peddled back to the Grey’s house.

++++++

The next day a few of John’s friends come round to play a game of volleyball in their big backyard. Isobel came and of course brought her older sister, Geneva. John knew Isobel was quite jealous of Geneva, she was beautiful and very charming whereas Isobel was quiet and held back how she truly felt most of the time.

He laid back on a towel spread out on the lawn.

“He seems a big improvement from the last assistant,” Isobel smiled, casting her hand over her eyes to look over at Jamie who was playing a game with some others.

“Yes, indeed he is.” John dropped his book to his chest and found himself staring at the long lines of Jamie’s body and noticed the man had deep scars on his back. He would have to ask him about those sometime.

“And Geneva is quite taken with him, I see,” Isobel scowled and crossed her arms over her chest, pulling her sunglasses onto her face.

John found that he too was jealous of the way that Jamie hugged Geneva, but he pushed that thought aside and told himself he was jealous because he fancied Geneva, not the other way around. “Who wouldn’t be, that is the question.” As he stared over at Jamie, he noticed that Jamie was now on his way over to them.

“John, did ye want to come and play in the next game?” He asked, clasping a large hand over his shoulder.

John shook his head, trying to act casual about the touch, “No. I’m perfectly content to sit out here, soak up the sun.” He stretched his arms out in front of him.

Jamie began to rub his hand over his shoulder, back and forth almost as if he was massaging his muscles, “Well, ye need a bit of sun. Yer quite pale,” he laughed and with a gentle slap against his skin, Jamie turned and left, back to the game.

That brief moment of contact, much like yesterday on their bikes, left John reeling and he spent that night thinking about Jamie’s hands somewhere else on his body.

++++++

One night at dinner, about six days into Jamie’s stay, before Jamie came down, John asked his father what he thought about Jamie. “Do you think he’s a bit arrogant though?”

His father looked up at him, “No, not at all.” He grinned, “Well maybe a little but who isn’t? I actually think he’s more shy than arrogant however.”

“Meanwhile, we have to put up with his arrogant shy arse, for six long weeks!” His mother chimed in which made John laugh.

“I think you’ll grow to like him, John.”

“But what if I grow to hate him?” John replied, but he knew no one could possibly hate Jamie Fraser. It was only his confused feelings that made him say this.

++++++

It was another hot summer afternoon, all of John’s friends had left to go down to the river but John stayed back, too deep in his own thoughts to imagine having fun.

No one was in the house, to his knowledge and John was feeling very relaxed so he laid back against the bed and let his hand wander down his bare chest. He settled it over his boxers, feeling his bulge against his hand. It was thoughts of Jamie that aroused him, picturing his toned back, his wavy curls. Normally if John did this, he pictured a woman but things had changed ever since Jamie came to town. It wasn’t just the Scot’s good looks, there were many handsome men and John wasn’t ashamed to think that. But it was Jamie’s mind that captivated him, and he felt almost like he’d known him his entire life.

His hand slid down into his boxers and he took a firm hold of himself, shutting his eyes and began to stroke himself.

Just as he was about to finish, he heard footsteps in the hallway and quickly pulled his hand out, a deep red spreading across his chest and face.

“Oh, John. There ye are.” Jamie smiled as he came into the room, “Why are ye no’ wi’ yer friends down at the river?”

John sat up from the bed, trying to cover himself, “I just didn’t feel like it.” A poor excuse.

“I see. Well ye wanna go for a swim? Just us two?” Jamie asked, hopeful.

“Sure,” John felt that same stirring deep in his stomach, “just give me a minute and I’ll meet you outside.” Jamie grinned, almost as if he knew that John had just masturbated.

John stood from the bed and walked to the bathroom, grabbing his swim shorts and sliding them on. He looked in the mirror and felt confused, did he really think about Jamie in that way? John thought he must be making it all up in his head, that Jamie could be attracted to someone like him. But the lingering looks at dinner, the way Jamie included him in activities, it had to mean more.

++++++

Jamie hadn’t wanted to admit it to himself, but ever since his arrival he had been taken with John. He’d only kissed a few guys, it was never serious and didn’t amount to much more than making out when he got too drunk. He hoped that John hadn’t seen the way he’d been looking at him over dinner and he prayed to God that John couldn’t read his face. Because if he did, he would learn that Jamie thought about kissing John and wondered what his mouth would taste like on his. John was young and impressionable, Jamie knew he shouldn’t tempt him, so he would try and hold his feelings back.

There was also the issue of Jamie’s fiancée… Claire, waiting for him back home. Jamie hoped this trip to Italy would clear his mind.

[blackrose-ffxiv]

Patronizing the New Shop 08/20

Luke Gravespast was bent over some spread papers, the door opening barely registering until there was a voice.  And then he twitched his lips, a glance over his shoulder - there were no apprentices or keeps (yet, maybe?) and it was just Luke tending the floor of the almost homey place.  "-You ain't dead," he said in greeting, standing up and shuffling his papers into an ordered stack, looking Lebeaux over, pushing his glasses up his nose.

Lebeaux Desrosiers flashed the saintly smile in the direction he heard noises and soon after a familiar blonde head popped up. The medic extended his long arms outwards to show he was very much alive and in one piece before they folded over his chest again. “See, we nearly had a pleasant moment until you opened your mouth.” He teased flatly. “Rumors of my demise have been greatly exaggerated. I’m sure you’re thrilled. Though that would explain why you’ve not been around the Tradehouse lately."

Luke gave a polite almost grin of a smile, hands folded under his arms in a manner that was at least consistent with how he held himself.  "Ain't heard much from t' boss lady except on a job I wouldn't touch with a ten fulm polearm, so's been mostly keeping myself in regular work." He sounded pained to admit that Lebeaux was one of his better connections for well-paying work.  "And I were movin' in," he added, lightly scratching the side of his jaw at the trimmed beard.  Which then led to a slight frown, one shoulder riding, before he made a gesture to the set-for-company couches.  "Y' want a seat, I c'n make you somethin' t' drink up." Manners dictated he was even required to control the brow twitch that Lebeaux had shown up on his doorstep...

“Ohh? You’ve turned down a job from the Proprietress herself?” Lebeaux mused as he looked around the shop. “I see you’re still moving in. It’s really quite… quaint.” He removed his hat and held it out towards the other as Luke made the mistake of inviting him in and making himself comfortable. The rule of vampires also extended to pompous elezen. “Tea or brandy, preferably both if you have it.” He glanced over the seating options, perhaps looking for the one least likely to transfer dust or dirt to his coat. “What was the job that was worth the risk of burning your shaky bridge with her?”

"I didn't turn -down- a job, jus' lettin' someone else pick it up.." Luke idly waved a hand, sounding almost amused. "Besides, information ain't what I do, aye?  Let the folks who handle tha' work handle tha'." It wasn't turning it DOWN it was making sure he didn't TOUCH it - exactly the best place to be in.  And while the rule of vampires extended, that required someone to know them... Garleans didn't really have those traditions. "Wh-" He saw that held out hat and took it, adding it to the half-partition and setting it there for safe keeping.  "I c'n do both fer y', sit down, if y' want," he added with a wave to the seating again.

Lebeaux sniffed in amusement. “She asked you. For information.” Well that was certainly rich. “She has several competent brokers, I can’t fathom why she would turn to you.” He smiled as he opted for one of the seats nearby, settling himself primly onto it. “Unless it was the sort of thing you would have more expertise in. I doubt it would be something so simply as locksmithing or patching up a faulty stove.” He tilted his head thoughtfully. “Does it have anything to do with your side project, I wonder?”

"Open call~" Luke clarified, the man getting tea down and sniffing the water like he was checking it before starting to heat the water up, picking herbs out.  It was time to remind Lebeaux that he was supposed to be a hick. "Still workin' on that project but slowly gettin' everything set up t' be able to resume working on it." Hopefully by the tone Lebeaux would read 'and you're not invited to see the facilities either' but he wasn't going to hold his breath with this Elezen. While he measured out the tea, Luke kicked open a cabinet and grabbed a bottle of what one would have to presume was brandy, kicking the cabinet closed again. He couldn't check to see if he was doing a decent hick impression or a little too much, quite yet.

“Ah, I see. Well there may be hope for you yet, then.” Lebeaux offered cheerfully. “Ignoring an open call isn’t quite the same as turning down a job offered to you directly.” The elezen looked around at the surrounding furniture, deciding it was still new enough not to be too terribly saturated with residual ‘country’. He shifted his attention back to Luke, smiling serenely all the while. “Oh, good. That brings me to one of the reasons I’ve decided to drop by. It’s somewhat related to your own project, in fact you may have some familiarity as a byproduct of your own research.”

Luke snorted as he took the water off boil, tipped his finger in the air a few times until the boiling stopped, and then poured it over the tea.  For a backwater he could at least make tea well?  It was all down to the leaves now!  "Oh yeah, ain't dumb 'nough t' ever do tha'," he said with an eyeroll, keeping that from Lebeaux.  Because he was more than once or twice tempted for his jobs...  The furniture hadn't hit 'lived in' look, still near new. Not the country.  "An'... wha' reason would tha' be," he said with just a tad bit of hesitation, a furrow of his brows as he grabbed cups, and something that looked like a wood tea tray to load things up on.  "I'm cautiously ears..."

Lebeaux waited patiently for his tea, smiling in his best approximation of ‘warm and friendly’ all the while. Even if his icy eyes did narrow slightly as he observed the method in which the tea was prepared. “If I recall your ramblings correctly, you were on about a project to combine the means of aether manipulation along with magitek.” His hands raised as long fingers curled to gesture several things coming together, apparently feeling it would help clarify what he meant to the other. “I would be interested in rather the reverse. A magitek device to disrupt aether.” He separated his hands and splayed fingers wide. “To limit or entirely prevent casting within a designated area.”

Luke set the tray down, sliding the brandy bottle over - it was probably brandy, nothing amazing but not rotgut - and a cup of tea to Lebeaux.  "Y' want..." His expression looked almost wildly concerned at that, sliding himself a cup of tea and setting the teapot down, the tray flipped as a little platform for it.  "Why?" Or the read-between-the-lines-question, who.

Lebeaux removed glasses from his jacket pocket and slid them onto his nose as he lifted the bottle offered to him. Making a quiet sound of derision through the nose that said just what he thought of that, though he at least had the decency not to say it out loud. He was a guest after all. “Well. Considering I just laid out what I would like for it to do, the ‘why’ should be rather obvious, Luke.” He said flatly, smiling all the while. He accepted the cup of tea and took a small sip to taste it before he added a generous splash of the brandy. The brew he at least approved of. “I would like to limit or prevent casting within a set area.”

Luke was not going to offer Lebeaux the top shelf, if he even could have afforded it.  Only after the man sipped and then augmented his tea did Luke pick his own up, giving it a taste check before hip-leaning against the table since he didn't quite want to sit.  His brows were knit together a little in concern, fiddling with the teacup by spinning it around in his fingers.  "How large?  How long? What type?"

Lebeaux smiled sweetly. Now he was getting it, those were far more acceptable questions. He took a small sip of his fortified tea and nodded his satisfaction. “I would prefer a fifteen to twenty fulm radius from the device. I can work with ten. It will need to be an absolute aether dead zone, no conjury or thaumaturgy or even teleportation. The bit that may be tricky is I would like to be able to activate and deactivate it at will.” Lebeaux took a long sip of the tea and tilted his head as he smiled a bit flatly at Luke. “If you weren’t made aware by the gossip, the damage done to my office was courtesy of a mage. I would like to ensure there is no chance of a repeat performance.”

Luke exhaled slightly, a short chuff of air as he breathed out.  "You wan' t' be able to turn it on an' off a few times, or... how fast?  Y' want a..." He drank the tea again, muttering under his breath and eyes narrowed.  "That's not... uh... usually allowed stuff, y' know?"

Lebeaux lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “I realize this is quite a tall order and not the sort of thing one would come across in the markets or salvage yards.” He noted calmly, the smile growing somewhat over the edge of the cup. “I’m sure you’re already aware that much of what the Golden Fox deals in isn’t quite ‘allowed stuff’. Yet considering your interest in the field you seemed the best candidate to run my problem by. I have looked into arcanima and warding, yet that would require a more permanent effect.”

Luke shifted on his feet, slowly twisting the cup of tea again in his fingers, his expression something that was more than a little conflicted but also interested.  "I... am, aye, an' jus' makin' sure you know that this could... get y' a bit of attention.  You say you don't wan' permanent... somethin' like this might... need stuff laid out 'r down at least?"

Lebeaux tilted his head as he considered it. “Some accommodations may be made to ensure its efficiency. I’ll not have my rooms tangled in wire and cable but I can surely make adjustments as the remodeling is done should minor changes be necessary.” He smiled, his head still tilted as he peered at the smith. “Which part of it would draw attention? Acquiring materials, fabrication, installation?”

Luke shifted on his feet as he considered, fingers tapping against his arms as he mapped it out mentally. "...Installation," came the rather quick answer, a twitch of his mouth as he continued to think. "Problem's s'more in the matter of the fact if y' want it concealed, gonna need t' be careful on how it's put inta place." He scratched the stubble on his jaw, eyes narrowed at Lebeaux.  "I c'n get away wit' tha materials rather easy, s'fine fer me.  You?  Gonna shine yer nose inta the wrong places if y' do it.  So gonna have t' put tha fabrication all on me fer tha' an' acquirin' s'well."

Lebeaux straightened up far enough to have a sip of tea. “In that case I have no choice but to defer to your expertise in matters of acquisition as well as design. Surely your estimate and quote will reflect accordingly. As well as a consideration towards keeping the matter between us.” He smiled serenely and this time tilted in a small mock-bow. “There is a budget limit, should we come too close or exceed it I’ll simply have to return to my standard method of breaking or removing the fingers of mages who irk me.” He suggested cheerfully.

@glowinggunmetal