#and naught of his (4) nips

[aliensubstance-011]

Okay so me and my friends just watched My Policeman and we've been seeing a lot of bad reviews so we wanted to put our two cents in.

That was an incredible, heartbreaking story about queer history and the lengths some queer people had to go through in order to conceal their identities, as well as the consequences of being discovered.

We didn't really see it as an example of healthy relationships, due to the situation at the time they were unable to actually have any kind of stable relations. Had the situation been different they may have been able to live normal healthy lives.

It was moving seeing how through Marion gaining her freedom at the end, Tom gained his own.

Me and my friends had to remind ourselves that the actor for tom was Harry Styles multiple times, you can tell he is very passionate about the character and over arching story, along with the other very talented actors.

We went into this film not expecting much at all and came out very surprised and touched.

Absolutely beautiful imagery, cinematography, costume and set design, not only was this a beautiful story but a lovely watch as well.

8.5/10 easily

[pellaaearien]

I posted 3,878 times in 2022

That's 2,862 more posts than 2021!

126 posts created (3%)

3,752 posts reblogged (97%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@littledreamling

@theglitchywriterboi

@sarenraegalpaladin

@beboots

@fishfingersandscarves

I tagged 907 of my posts in 2022

#ffxiv - 131 posts

#oc: eyn'ara rainshadow - 124 posts

#final fantasy xiv - 105 posts

#miqomarch - 72 posts

#wolmeric - 60 posts

#dreamling - 46 posts

#aymeric x wol - 45 posts

#aymeric x eyn'ara - 39 posts

#pella writes - 39 posts

#miqote - 38 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#you say this but i missed vivienne the first time through dai because i left val royaux without seeing the arrow and then couldn't get back

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

#MiqoMarch 2022 Day 4: Pet

“Of course, if he hadn’t been spending so much time closeted with his pet…”

The venomous words, no matter how quietly hissed, brought the meeting of the House to a standstill. Artoirel, lulled into nearly a stupor by the endless circuitous arguments, sat bolt upright in his seat. It was not the first time there had been whispers about the relationship between the Lord Speaker and the Warrior of Light — those had started circulating almost immediately after the Warrior’s arrival in Ishgard. But it was the first time someone had been so careless as to speak them within the walls of the council chamber. Everyone halted, then turned to Aymeric, to see how he would react.

Aymeric’s face might have been carved of stone. He stared at the offender in silence, long enough that the man in question, Lord Preaumane, turned steadily more red in the face, though to his credit, he did not look away.

“You will not speak of the Warrior in such terms again,” Aymeric said at last, his voice as frigid and implacable as an oncoming avalanche. Unlike Preaumane, he made no other outward sign. 

Preaumane sneered. ���Or what, my lord? Will you challenge me to a duel?”

There was a rustle of interest. Ever since the Republic of Ishgard had abolished the Inquisition, and by extension official Trial by Combat, it had become the fashion to settle disputes among the nobility by engaging in duels instead. Aymeric had been trying to nip the emerging tradition in the bud, without success.

Surprisingly, a faint smile played about his features. “One of the dubious benefits of being branded a bastard all one’s life: I care not a whit for mine own honour. However, my Lord Preaumane, ‘twas not I to whom you gave insult.”

He inclined his head, and the Warrior herself appeared at the rail of the gallery.

“That would be me,” she said, into the sudden pall.

28 notes - Posted March 5, 2022

#4

FFXIV Write Entry #1

Prompt: cross || Master Post || On AO3

550 words, hurt/comfort cw for depictions of torture, threats of violence, derogatory language

Aymeric awakens bound to the cross.

His bare back stings, exposed to the air, in anticipation of the lash. It is not the first time.

He wonders how much longer his captors will drag this out. If it will ever be possible for their malice and fury to be spent. He has already made it clear that he will tell them naught — much as he might wish it to be due to his own fortitude, it has rather more to do with the fact that they already know all he might have to tell.

What a farce. The whole of Ishgard knows exactly in whom he would have confided. And he dares not hope that the Ward remain ignorant of the Azure Dragoon and the Warrior of Light’s activities in Dravania. This is merely revenge, payback for slights real and imagined.

And his father had given him over to them without a second thought.

Aymeric drifted. Even at his most wildly optimistic he’d assumed he would be taken into custody at best, outright slain at the worst.

He had not expected the torture.

“Do you imagine you may yet save your friends?” Charibert’s voice resonated until his ears fairly throbbed with it, a strength and pitch the real Charibert’s voice had never achieved. “Your silence avails them not, cur. It is only a matter of time before they all share your fate.”

Aymeric clung to the lifeline that Charibert spoke of the future. They had not yet been captured. Some small, besieged part of his mind was screaming at him.

Wake up, you fool! It’s just a dream! He tried in vain to heed it, Charibert’s next words rushing in his ears.

“Perhaps we’ll let you watch, when we get our hands on that cat bitch of yours. I look forward to making her yowl.”

“You will not touch her—!” His voice was raw from screaming and disuse. He struggled a little more, quite uselessly. Charibert laughed, and the pain began again.

WAKE UP!

Aymeric’s eyes snapped open to darkness and quiet. Nothing about the room was unfamiliar. The soothing sound of the fountain burbling away in the corner permeated his hearing, while moonlight filtered softly through the stained glass window. He knew this room, had slept here many a night. No pain or suffering could touch him here.

His throat was as dry as the Thanalan desert, his heart pounding as though he’d just run a malm. No matter how frequently the dreams came, they never got any easier.

A soft touch on his arm shook him out of the memories, and he looked down into Eyn’ara’s lambent eyes, which held naught but love and understanding. She knew. She always knew.

After another moment to allow him to regain his bearings, she pulled him into her arms.

“They will never hurt you again,” she murmured fiercely. Aymeric suspected that the words were as much for her benefit as his own.

Sometimes even her beloved presence was not enough to banish the shadows that hounded him. The marks on his skin and the marks that went deeper. Tonight, thankfully, was not one of those nights. He lay in her arms, in her bed, in her room, and breathed deep of the peace they had fought so hard to achieve.

NEXT

28 notes - Posted September 2, 2022

#3

So based on this post that was going around a while back, I’m trying my hand at Dreamling fic. And I’ve gotten to the point where changes are happening! \o/

Dream had thought that since the walk to the castle he'd become inured to the sight of his home crumbling around him, but the shattered remnants of his throne room — the heart of his power, the memory of his last sight of the Dreaming for a hundred years — open a wound deep within him such that he nearly stumbles. 

Suddenly, it is too much to bear. 

He is the Dreaming, and the Dreaming is him. If he cannot do even this, put this one small bit to rights, what right has he to the title?

He knows immediately that it is a mistake, drawing deep from wells within himself that contain mere drops. The resulting mess is somehow worse than before. Though it is a sign of his unworthiness that so many of his subjects have abandoned him, it is a mercy that only Lucienne witnesses his fall.

"You need rest, my Lord," she insists. "And then food, and maybe a bit more rest."

"No." Dream shakes her off, dragging himself to a sitting position even as he trembles like a newborn lamb. He does not have the luxury of rest: he is the Dreaming, and the Dreaming is fading. "Is there anything of my creation that yet remains in the Dreaming?"

Galling, that he should have to ask another, but he has not yet reattuned himself to the shifting rhythms of his realm. Lucienne straightens her spine, and he looks curiously upon her change in demeanour.

"I will tell you, my Lord," she says, gentle but firm, "once you rest. You, of all people, should know the importance of taking time to recuperate, and yet you will not accept what you freely give to all."

Dream stares at her in open astonishment.

"You are here, now," she continues ruthlessly, "the damage will grow no worse. But, with respect, Sire, you will be able to do more for the Dreaming once you approach it from a place of strength." She meets his eyes and does not back down.

For an instant, embers of the old pride surge up. I am no invalid and you dare and other such admonitions rising to his lips before evaporating like the morning dew. He is that weak; his palace proclaims his sorry state, and what little power he’d retained after his captivity had gone towards taking revenge on his captors. He cannot regret it, but…

“Perhaps there is some truth in what you say,” he admits. The safety of the Dreaming is paramount, and that has always resided in his person. He refuses to allow his hubris to damage it further.

34 notes - Posted October 14, 2022

#2

Another Word for Ache | Dream/Hob | 32K | Teen | Ongoing Ch. 7: Retrouvailles (7K)

Hunger as a Metaphor for Love, Dream of the Endless Needs a Hug, Hob Gadling wants to give him one, Non-sexual Intimacy, Inappropriate Use of Shir HaShirim (Song of Songs), Episode Codas, Dream of the Endless Frees Nada, Surrealism, Matthew Swears a Lot, Dream POV, Slow Burn, Not Actually Unrequited Love (They’re Just Idiots), or: it’s okay to have dreams about your platonic best friend so long as he never finds out about them

At the end of the row, the New Inn stands, an exacting mixture of old and modern, its frontage welcoming and unassuming. The grass is up to Dream’s knees as he walks toward the open door, still drawn by the bright, dizzying cloud of something that’s calling him in, singing in his bones, planting itself with a steadfast Here I am.

[Read on AO3]

The boys finally meet! And talk? 

61 notes - Posted December 6, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

It struck me on a rewatch that when Dream tells Death "I had a true quest, a purpose outside my function" it's perhaps the most animated we've seen him yet in the show.

Dream is a lover of stories, and music, and art, because what else are dreams? And finally, for the first time, he got to be IN a story, instead of just watching or shepherding. Even his choice of word, "quest", reflects this. A great tale, with heroes and villains and adventure... and then it's over. No wonder he feels empty. It's the same way I feel when I put down a good book.

80 notes - Posted September 29, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[dear-yandere]

[ kinktober day 4 — devotion. ]

yandere! dio x f! reader x the world. oneshot.

summary. day by day, he’d fuck you like a man fucks his most expensive whore. a demon masquerading as a God, and you’ve come to realize that there is no true God who will punish him.

— word count: 2313. — prompts: mindbreak + size difference + degradation. — warnings: n/sfw (dubcon, threesome, biting), blood, religious themes, depersonalization. — art credit: @tyonoraora.

“How does it feel, little one?”

Little one—his voice is untouched silk, reserved only for when you’ve been good. Your heart pounds against its cage as if trying to reach him—it shows on your face. He lowly hums and buries his lips against the nape of your neck, easily enticing moans from your throat. The effect he has on you was disgusting at first, hearing remnants of praise for letting him violate you, seeing his body dwarf yours against the bed, feeling his powerful touch trap you against the sheets. You have no control, no freedom here—no one would come save you even if you screamed.

Sharp teeth graze the hollow of your neck, dangerously close to puncturing your jugular. Air’s trapped alongside your throat—you can’t breathe under the full weight of his body and the threat of death on your skin. Fingers hungrily knead and pull at your nipples, twisting when you don’t moan quite to his liking. “Answer me.” He hisses and nips at the skin beneath your ear.

Your throat dries up—his commanding tone enough to knock you down to Earth. “G-good—feels so good My Lord!” You bite back another moan, mind empty and gaze locked onto the snap of his hips against yours. You whimper, half wanting to look away from the way his cock disappears between your folds, the other compelling your hips to meet each thrust. Hips shamelessly and sloppily cant into his, the thrill of knowing that one wrong thrust and he could split you in two. Looking at it now, seeing his dick disappear between your thighs—it’s rapturous, addicting like ambrosia. Deep in the recesses of your mind, the thoughts strike you as foreign—that the image of dying by his hands is exhilarating. You want him to tear you to pieces, to use you as a cock sleeve until he has no more use for you.

Dying at his hands is all you’re good for now.

He says you should consider this an honor, a privilege to be personally fucked by your own God. You’re his favorite toy, he says—the other girls don’t come close, but you can’t help but question why you’re so special. Is it your defiance, your cunning? Is it how easy it is to strip it away, down to your fragile and wary bones? Or is because he gets off on how rewarding it was to break you, to hear your screams blossom from terrified to eager? Because he knows how to get under your skin, knows how to make you feel special, knows how to make you feel wanted as if you finally have a purpose in life, a purpose rewarded to you by the hands of a God himself.

Your purpose is to used.

A comfort, more than anything else. When did it happen exactly? The drugs had grown less potent, weren’t as needed when he was in the mood to take you without complaint. When was it? When did you become addicted to doing this act with him? When did you stop resisting and refusing refusing, stop kicking and biting and clawing at his thick skin? Resist has always been useless, when something so inhuman and inhumane heals before your eyes, when your hard works is all for naught. How do you fight a man who calls himself God? How do you fight a man who may as well be a God?

...You don’t.

“M-more, My Lord.” You shamelessly plead—anything to win his favor—and wrap your legs around his waist.

He stills, briefly, and watches you fall apart. “Oh?” Your whimpers of complaint are a serenade he finds himself indulging in. “How indecent. I taught you better than to beg, didn’t I?”

Your hearts hammers.

He sees the way your eyes widen and he smirks, content with the fear he’s struck into you. He’s made it clear he never liked needy women; you’re an exception only in that he enjoys fucking you most.

“Beg for me more, little dove.” He orders and begins gently rocking his hips. 

Desperate for the friction, you throw your head back and eagerly hum out countless, wordless prayers. This isn’t you anymore, not in the slightest; this is better in his eyes. And that is so much worse. But he is content, and so are you when his pace descends into harsh thrusts that leave your pussy throbbing. You take it like a bitch in heat, like a good girl, like a good concubine.

“Little dove...” You drink his praise up like water. His gaze travels downward, enraptured by how small you are beneath him. You could break in an instant. “This is all you’re good for, isn’t it?” He asks—you waste no time anxiously nodding. “So full of my cock, it almost looks like it belongs there.” 

Tucked under his large body, pressed flush against the chest of a man who’d sooner leave you for dead — tears spill, but you’re overjoyed for once. He’s always loved making you cry, who are you to rob him of that? Even though your legs hurt from being pressed flat against your torso and your cunt is bruised bloody and raw, you weep and moan like you mean it. His arms are curled under your pretty legs like vipers, large hands pinning each of yours against the mattress as he buries his cock in your womb.

You can’t help but focus on the way his body presses against yours. His cock feels heavy between your folds, and he’s careful to keep his pace slow enough to drive you wild. Each harsh thrust is few and far in between, a perfect cacophony of impatience and frustration building a coil in your stomach. Dio runs his tongue over unused fangs, studying the way your features twist and contort with pleasure when his thick cock would press against your insides. He’s waiting, and you both know it; he wants to see you unfold, wants you see you whine and beg and claw at his arms for more. It’s a feeling unlike any other — his other women can’t compare, can’t beg like you can. You used to hate him, but he doesn’t see that hateful glint in your eyes anymore. You like this, you like being fucked — he’s finally broken you. This once prideful woman is his to do as he pleases with.

There’s no greater feeling in this world.

“Lean into me.” He orders like a king and you comply like a whore. Dainty arms weakly coil around his shoulders, not nearly long enough to touch each other; his body is too big, too monstrous, and the thrill of being torn apart by it only makes you want him more. He praises in hushed tones, allowing you a small, rare moment of bliss. Your face is always particularly cute when he utters such meaningless words to you, like a dog desperate for praise. It’s tempting to defile that innocence even further.

“Look how needy you’ve gotten, gripping my cock so tight I can hardly pull out,” he teases, lies right to your face. Unsheathing himself is as easy as you are, but he keeps that to himself—prefers to get your hopes up. You’re already whimpering at the sheer mention of how needy you’ve become; Gods, you’d feel so empty without him, but it isn’t your place to complain. He doesn’t have to please you, you only exist to pleasure him. And still, you can’t hide the disappointment on your features. Dio smirks condescendingly and utters assurances. “Stop making that face, little dove.” He jests and realigns himself to your cunt, not even so much as a warning when he slams into you once again. “I’m not done with you yet.”

And you did — your eyes roll back into your head when his hips slam into yours. Fangs part your flesh as easily as meat, and droplets of blood quickly well from the incision, but he doesn’t care to lap them up; you always did look better coated in blood. You hadn’t even noticed his stand, The World hovers over the mattress by your head, its cock free from pants you didn’t know could be removed. His dick, thick and grey, is as large as your Lord’s; you already knew it was to go in your mouth, you just weren’t sure if it’d fit. The image alone made you want to come apart, it was already taking all your willpower to not scream with each thrust into your little cunt.

“Suck.” Dio pulls away from your neck long enough to bark out an order. That simple command is all it took to strip you of dignity. “I’m sure you wouldn’t mind another cock to please, would you?” He caresses your hips, his thumb sweeping over the raw flesh he’d gripped onto in his earlier reverie. You wince, but maintain eye contact—he prefers it like that. “Look how needy you are, little dove. Sometimes you just need the extra attention, don’t you?” He coos. “Need another set of hands on you, more skin to get your hands on.” Breathily, you nod and lean into his touch. There’s no use hesitating or complaining; you’ve turned a new leaf, after all. You’re a good girl now, and good girls don’t talk back.

Fangs return to your neck, digging deeper, harsher this time. You whimper, the new sensation of pain overwhelming when your thighs were already so chaffed and your cunt already so bruised, skin still raw from this morning’s session. But your mouth fell open anyways, the underside of your tongue pressed taut against your lower lip, ready to accommodate The World’s shaft. The creature grunted lowly, more akin to the growl of a wolf in heat, and slid himself into your tiny mouth. The feeling of being filled from top to bottom was so intense, so overpowering you feared your jaw would come apart. The World was markedly more gentle than his user, but it was hard to miss the excitement rolling off his body like waves; he’s not being gentle for your sake, he’s trying to hold himself back lest his length rip through the back of your throat. He’s excited, even if you can hardly hear his moans.

Dio chuckles but makes no further comment, too busy suckling on your sore flesh. The World stares down at you, locking eyes for only a moment before bucking into your throat. Your tongue instinctively swirls around the tip, drool soon pooling beneath your nose. Deep growls escape the Stand’s lips, and Dio feels every second of it. His cock is buried deep in your cunt and he can feel every lick and suckle of your lips.

Dio licks his lips, already feeling the bulge of The World’s cock inflate the throat he’s mercilessly sucked on. The chuckle that rumbles from his chest and into yours would be enough to send your body shaking if he hadn’t pinned it to the bed with his own. “What a well-trained whore.”

“Mm—”, you struggle to breathe out a raspy response, hardly able to formulate words when your thoughts are filled with cum and his thrusts refuse to relent. His stand’s dick press against your insides, blocking air from entering your jugular or from leaving your throat. The soft, rubbery skin of the stand’s balls stuff your nostrils — you nearly lose yourself in the bliss of being treated like a lifeless fuck toy. You could die right now and they might keep fucking you, and that alone fills you with joy. To be used until the very end... you could think of no better use for the new life Dio has given you. But, he doesn’t plan on letting you die just yet; you still have many more uses left in you. 

“Oh? Are you going to cum again? So soon?” His tone is mocking near the end, and he squeezes your hips. Fingernails rake closer to your inner thighs, coaxing you to tell him what he wants to hear. The World leans back slightly to relieve some pressure from your nostrils and throat, and you shamelessly fill your lungs.

“I’ll, aah—” A moan catches in your throat, and his Stand gives you enough space to speak. “I’ll cum as many times as you like!” There’s a spark of boredom in his eyes, but it’s gone so quickly you wonder if you’d imagined it. You...you hope you imagined it, and a feeling of realization and disgust washes over you like a cold wave. You want to cover yourself, to crawl into the deepest hole you can find and die, anything to escape the way he looked at you just now. Like you’re trash on the street. A charity case he picked up out of pity. A pet he’ll discard at the drop of a hat.

He makes a sound in the back of his throat, and before you can ask, your mouth is stuffed again. He watches your shoulders squeeze together and your throat bulge from the sheer size of his Stand. The tip of The World’s cock pushes against the back of your throat, pinning your head to the mattress—you would have thrown up if Lord Dio hadn’t train you so well.

“Then cum.” He orders, stuffing your mouth and your cunt full. “Cum as many times as I want. Cum until I’m done with you.”

You obediently nod. You can’t see his face anymore; whether that’s a blessing or a curse escapes you, so you stop thinking and simply oblige. Your past self would be laughing at you. Chastising you, encouraging you bite down on his cock and fight back. What happened to that girl, you wonder? Did Lord Dio tire of her? Did he dispose of her? Will he dispose of you too?

What a terrifying devotion. When did you lose yourself?

When did he become your world?

dear-yandere 2019-2020, all rights reserved.

[smellycinnamonthundahfudge]

Take Flight

Brad confronts MJ about her and Peter's relationship on the plane ride home to NY as Peter watches the conversation from afar.

MJ was happy she told Peter everything and that they were now... whatever they were now. Okay? She was happy, is happy.

But, she's not going to lie and say she isn't just a teensy bit scared by the newness of it all. She's barely had any friends in the first place and what, now she had a... boyfriend??? This was completely uncharted new territory for her and while it could be construed as an exciting exhibition on one hand, it could also be called a plunge into a deep dark abyss on the other.

Which was why after MJ got back to the class, and they all made sure everyone was safe, MJ texted Peter that she wanted to talk. It didn't have to be right at that moment or night though, they literally almost just died, they can take some time to just take a breather before figuring out the mechanics of their relationship.

And that's exactly the reason why Peter Parker was currently snuggled next to MJ, sound asleep, 4 hours into their 9 hour flight. and although, MJ admits that her shoulder's started to transition from sore to losing all form of sensation completely, MJ can't help but feel really happy for Peter. He's finally getting some well earned and deserved rest, and even though MJ knows she has no way to truly know what Peter's actually thinking... he seems happy to be with her, doesn't he? "Because I mean, I am. I'm happy I'm with Peter" MJ thinks to herself. Maybe MJ's just happy Peter's happy to be with her.

However, as happy MJ is being with Peter, unfortunately, her bladder isn't so happy. Suffice it to say, she desperately had to pee, no matter how cute a sleepy cuddly Peter Parker by her side looked. And so with almost surgical precision, MJ proudly thought of herself, she carefully lifted Peter off of her arm and shoulder, and lied his head down a pillow. The operation seemed successful enough, the patient was still sound asleep. And so, after making sure Peter was all good, MJ jetted the hell out of her row and quietly sprinted down the aisle as fast as she could to get to the bathroom.

After MJ relieved herself in the bathroom, she stood just outside it to stretch her limbs some. She had just been sitting and been repurposed into a human pillow for 4 hours, she needed to jolt her limbs back to life.

But, as she sees Brad Davis shyly waving to her as he heads towards her direction, MJ thinks maybe she should have just let her limbs stay dead after all.

"Hey, MJ"

"Hi, Brad"

Untolerable awkward silence ensues for a few seconds that feel like forever.

"Oh sorry, uh did you need to use the bathroom? Heh completely forgot I was blocking it"

MJ tries for a quick escape, hoping it was the locale Brad was here for. Though, MJ knew it was probably for naught.

"Actually..." says Brad, grabbing MJ's elbow which earns an instinctive glare from her.

Brad quickly lets go and says "Oh, sorry."

"Uhhh I just thought I could ask you something?"

Here's the thing with Brad fucking Davis, okay. There's the very well known Fight or Flight instinct that occurs in the face of being forced to confront a problem. However, there's another F that also occurs when being forced to confront a problem, Freeze. And that's exactly what MJ did in the face of interacting with Brad; she didn't run away nor did she nip the problem in the bud, she just... did nothing. She let whatever happen happen between them because there didn't seem to be any harm in it. Until now. Shit.

MJ merely sighs and nods in defeat. Well, she would have had to have this conversation at some point, might as well do it in the front of an airplane bathroom stall. Just rip the fucking bandaid off already.

"Yeah, sure, Brad. Hit me with it."

"It's just that, I saw you were sitting next to Peter and you guys were holding hands..."

"Uhm yeah, yeah we were in fact... doing all those things."

"Sooo..." phrased Brad as if he wanted MJ to finish his sentence for him.

"The hell I will" thought MJ, Brad can finish his sentences himself.

"You still haven't asked your question."

Brad simply sighs, exasperated MJ's had him forced to actually ask her what he's been dreading instead of her just telling him off the bat.

"Does that mean you guys are together now?" Brad asks, sneaking a look at the seats Peter and MJ were occupying.

The action makes MJ take a look as well, and in a blink and you'll miss it moment, (but this is MJ we're talking about, of course she didn't miss it) MJ spots a pair of suspiciously widened brown eyes and scruffy bed head airplane hair peeking out of her aisle seat and then immediately detracting back into the seats.

"This boy sometimes..." thought MJ. It truly was a wonder why she felt the way she felt about him. Goddamn Peter Parker.

MJ merely lightly chuckles to herself, Peter was just too fucking ridiculous and cute for his own good.

And so, despite the fact that they haven't even really talked about it yet, MJ feels brave enough to take the plunge for herself and say

"Yeah"

MJ looks back again to the seats, and once again, Peter was trying and failing to sneakily take a peek.

MJ smiles at her boyfriend's actions, shakes her head in adorable exasperation, looks back at Brad Davis and says "Yeah, we are."

"Uhm was there anything else?"

Brad's dissapointed demeanor could not be missed but it seems he's accepted MJ's answer and replies "No, no there wasn't."

"Okay, bye then. I'll just... see you in school, I guess"

"Yeah. See you," says Brad waving goodbye to MJ.

MJ waves bye back, turns around, and heads back to her seat, breathing one big sigh of relief.

God, she's glad that's over.

MJ finally makes it back to her seat and of course Peter would be pretending to be fiddling around his phone when she got there.

"Oh! Hey, MJ! Did you... go to the bathroom or something?" Peter asks in what could possibly be the most try hard fake oblivious one could muster.

MJ had no words, only the irl facial expression version of this (-_-) to say to Peter.

"Out with it, Parker" MJ says, lightly smacking Peter's chest. "You and I both know my bathroom escapades isn't what's on your mind right now."

Peter chuckles at that, but it didn't help lessen his nerves over what he was going to ask.

"What did Brad want?" asks Peter, his tone completely serious, devoid of any chill whatsoever, and maybe just a tinge of genuine fear and nerves.

MJ chuckled at Peter's reaction, maybe a jelly Peter was just a little cute. But then she thought that Peter may genuinely be confused, and if MJ was being honest, so was she. Well, maybe confused isn't the right word, more... unsure. Maybe they really needed to have this talk.

But then again, Peter was being too cutely nervous and jealous for his own good right now, fidgetly waiting in anticipation to find out what she and Brad were talking about. She had to mess with him about it. She was only human.

"Peter Benjamin Parker, are you being jealous right now?" asks MJ in the most fakely shocked tone she could muster.

And despite the fact that their altitude is like a couple of hundreds of feet up in the air, inside a metal air conditioned vehicle where he was just previously all cuddly and snuggly like in his blanket, Peter felt like it just got 100 degrees hotter in here and is desperately flubbing and flustered and has seemingly forgotten any word in any language.

"NO!! I mean... yes??"

Peter was still panicking and figuring out what to do and MJ just can't help herself, she really just can't.

"Because you know jealousy is the most common motive in murders and considering the fact that you already told me that you almost got Brad killed, plus the fact that-"

MJ leans in to whisper closer to Peter, looking around them and making sure no one's listening for dramatic effect.

"-you're the spider-man vigilante who beats up criminals, gang members, and super villains on a daily basis"

MJ finally leans away to talk normally now.

"that I just, I'm a bit concerned, Peter" MJ says, barely able to keep her laughter in check, but is able to nevertheless.

MJ's pretty sure she might have just broken Peter.

"OhmyGod MJ, NO! i dont i dont wanna kill Brad!"

It's a miracle the passengers of the entire plane didn't look at them with how loud the nervous Peter Parker shouted that out of context very incriminating line.

Luckily, Peter regains some of his common sense back and starts to speak in hushed softer tones.

"I mean do i dislike the guy? yeah maybe a little but it's just cause you have no idea what he was going to do MJ. Did i tell you why i almost killed him? Because really it was just an accident and i only meant-"

Peter blabbered on, explaining himself, when MJ thought okay, enough was enough, MJ said to herself. She can let Peter off the hook he is currently dangling himself in right now.

"Peter..."

"And then the agent just took her gun out while i was still half naked and-"

MJ merely sighs in exasperation and decides to kiss Peter, grabbing him by the collar of his science pun shirt, just to shut him up already before his head explodes.

And of course it shuts him up, him almost kissing back immediately even despite the slight confusion over what just happened.

MJ smirks a slight grin before pulling away from the kiss and Peter is left with an airy smille and a slightly confused but mostly happy expression on his face.

"I'm so confused," says Peter, chuckling, "What just happened?"

MJ lightly chuckles as well, shaking her head, and says "Look, Peter, I know we haven't really... talked about anything yet. And if I'm being honest, I'm still also confused or maybe just unsure about a lot of things as well. But the one thing I am sure on is that... i really like you. I couldn't care less about Brad Davis if i tried. As far as I'm concerned, he's irrelevant."

And finally, for the first time since he woke up and saw MJ talking to Brad, Peter can actually breathe properly.

"Oh okay. That's that's good cause I really like you too," says Peter with an ear to ear grin on his face.

"Well okay then, now if you excuse me, it's my turn to sleep, your turn to have numb limbs so skootch" says MJ with a yawn and gesturing for Peter to move.

Peter simply smirks, does as he's told, and replies "Gladly", making space for MJ to lay her head on his shoulder this time.

And as MJ felt her eyes slowly start to droop, and her finally starting to feel the sweet slumber of sleep overtake her, she holds and grabs onto Peter tighter, and she thinks to herself that she can actually sympathize with Peter's feelings of jealousy. As she feels herself start to fall asleep, lying her head onto Peter's shoulder, MJ is really glad to have this idiot that she can call hers. MJ only hopes that Peter feels that he can call her his as well.

Because as Peter watches MJ asleep, peaceful and at ease, he still can't help but feel that MJ deserves better than him. He finds himself at awe that the girl of his dreams is right here sleeping next to him and not, tall hunky quarterback Brad Davis who knows all her books and off the cuff literary references.

"Hey, MJ, I know you're probably asleep right now. But I just want you to know I'm really glad you're with me. You deserve so much better than me or even, Brad. I'm glad I get to be with you. I- really, I just think it's unbelievable that you actually like me."

MJ's heart warms, consequently melts, and her eyes shot up open at Peter's confession.

MJ has this vulnerable look on her face and she can't help but kiss Peter again, but this time it isn't rushed and unexpected, done to shut him up, it's for her to tell him something she can't put into words just yet.

MJ breaks away from the soft slow kiss, looks Peter in the eyes, and says "I told you, Peter, I actually like it better broken. I wasn't just talking about the necklace."

MJ looks at Peter with a sympathetic reassuring smile on her face and this time Peter kisses MJ now. After it ends, they don't need to say anything more, maybe they don't even really need to have their talk now. They both know what they both mean to each other, and they don't really need to say anything more than that.

So after their kiss and they both just share a lingering look, realizing just the importance of what they have, and not really needing to say anything more, since they both already know, MJ gets back to Peter's shoulder and closes her eyes one more time.

But just before MJ sleeps soundly for good, she says this without even opening her eyes.

"Hey Peter," her statement stifled by a yawn "if we still have a couple of hours, after i take this nap, we should watch a movie with that splitter of yours."

Peter perks up over the idea of him getting to do his plan after all and is happily surprised over the fact that MJ somehow found out.

"Oh, great idea, MJ. What do you wanna watch?"

MJ begins to suggest a plethora of true crime thrillers that has the murderer killing someone out of jealousy and Peter laughs. Peter jokes about how "you're never going to let this go, are you?"

"What do you think?" asks MJ before finally actually going to sleep for reals now this time, the last time.

"But you know what though, I actually kinda dig the jealous look on you, Parker. Kinda hot."

Peter chuckles to himself as MJ struggles to keep the smile forming on her face in check.

There is a very well known phenomenon that occurs when one's forced to confront a problem. In the case of confronting the pragmatics and mechanics of what Peter and MJ's relationship actually was, let's just say they took flight.

~end~

DID YOU GUYS GET IT? DO YOU GET THE TITLE NOW? BECAUSE THEY'RE IN A PLANE RIGHT NOW, AND THIS IS LIKE THE FIRST ACTUAL START OF THEIR RELATIONSHIP SO IT'S THEIR RELATIONSHIP TAKING FLIGHT AS IN TAKING OFF LIKE AN AIRPLANE. WHICH I ALSO CONNECTED TO THE FIGHT OR FLIGHT RESPONSE. WHICH I THINK IS ALSO APPROPRIATE SINCE THEY KINDA DECIDED THEY DIDNT NEED TO DO THEIR TALK ANYMORE. GET IT????

haha ok whew fuck im glad that's over and done with. this was supposed to be for day 5, any pick of fanfic topics, and the topic i chose was ya guessed it, jealousy haha (altho i actually had the idea for the fic first and then i thought it could be applied for day 5 hehe)

omfg im so glad im actually finishing these things now. thank gods for the weekend hahaha.

and thank uuuu @tare8chan for helping me figure out how mj would react to a jelly peter. her connecting that to murder is PURE GENIUS AND U DESERVE ALL THE CREDIT FOR THINKING IT UP SO REALLY THANK YOU SO EFFING MUCH.

a bunch of ur ideas made it into this fic because they're so effing great so tytytytyty THANKYOUUUUUU

i cant fucking believe spideychelle month week 2 is over, folks, it's been quite a ride so far :') <3

ONTO WEEK THREEEEE AHOOYYY TOOT TOOOTTT

3000 hoorahs for more spideychelle yalls woohoooooooo

[the-line-up]

Last One Standing

Yesterday marked both the start of the second week of the 2020 Vuelta a Espana and also the rapidly approaching conclusion of this year’s UCI World Tour calendar, with the next scheduled race, the Tour Down Under, due to begin on 14th January 2021. After the conclusion of this year’s Giro D’Italia in Milan on Sunday with Ineos Grenadiers’ domestique Tao Geoghegan-Hart becoming the latest recipient of the Maglia Rosa, the race is now on to find out who will win the overall general classification at the last of this year’s Grand Tours. 

For the first time in the history of Grand Tour cycling, due to a severely condensed race schedule brought on by Covid-19 restrictions, the Giro D’Italia and the Vuelta a Espana overlapped for one week, meaning that no riders would have the opportunity to complete a Grand Tour hat-trick this year. In addition, the commencing of the Giro on 3rd October occurred just two weeks after the final stage of the Tour De France, cutting the usual time-gap between the races in half. 

This meant that many of those who competed in the TDF chose to forgo a trip to Italy and instead made their way to Spain for the 75th edition of La Vuelta. Those cyclists included Dan Martin from Israel Start-Up Nation, Cofidis’ Guilleme Martin and Alejandro Valverde from Movistar. Also undertaking the TDF-Vuelta double-header this year is Team Jumbo-Visma leader Primoz Roglic who is looking to defend his general classification win from last year and secure a second Grand Tour win after being pipped at the post at this year’s Tour by felow Slovenian Tadej Pogacar. 

With six stages down and 1,013.2km, the first week of the 2020 Vuelta a Espana has already been filled with plenty of exciting moments: Roglic, coming off first-place success at Liege-Bastogne-Liege a few weeks previous, took the leader’s jersey on day one after a 173km stage from Irun to Arrate, with Ineos Grenadiers’ Richard Carapaz and Israel Start-Up Nation’s Dan Martin trailing close behind at five and seven seconds down respectively. 

Roglic continued to hold onto the maillot roja for the following five stages as the cyclists snaked their way towards northeastern Spain, with support during this time coming from his Jumbo-Visma teammates including Sepp Kuss, George Bennett and Robert Gesink. Unfortunately, the 146.4km Stage 6 route from Biescas to Aramon Formigal proved to be too much for the seven-year pro who was distanced by other GC contenders on the final 14.5km climb and fell back to fourth place, now sitting thirty seconds behind the new leader Carapaz.

Along with the increasingly tight competition between multiple GC contenders for the maillot roja, the Vuelta’s first week saw six different teams enjoy stage success: Movistar’s Marc Soler took Stage 2 after missing out the previous year when he was called back to help then-team leader Nairo Quintana, while Stages 3 and 4 saw an Irish double-header with Dan Martin winning his first Grand Tour stage since 2018 and Sam Bennett continuing his run of success this year after winning two stages, along with the overall points classification competition, at this year’s Tour De France. 

Stage 5, a 184.4km cycle from Huesca to Sabninanigo, was won by Belgian Lotto-Soudal rider Tim Wellens, while Astana took the final stage before the first rest day with Ion Izagirre crossing the finish line first after his teammate and older brother Gorka put in the leg work during the final climb. 

With the fight for the maillot roja now certainly under way between GC contenders like Carapaz, Martin, Roglic and Hugh Carthy of EF Pro Cycling, and with more teams hoping to achieve stage win success, the Vuelta’s second week was shaping up to be an exciting and eye-catching 945.8km of racing, and Stage 7 certainly didn’t disapoint. 

Consisting of 159.7km of racing between Vitoria-Gastiez and Villanueva de Valdegovia, this stage would be a tough course for the riders with almost sixty kilometres of cycling before coming into a circuit featuring two climbs of the Puerto De Orduna, oft-described as one of the most challenging climbs in the Basque Country. Richard Carapaz would be looking to hold onto the leader’s jersey for another day while fending off competition from Carthy, Martin and Roglic, while Jumbo-Visma’s Sepp Kuss would be looking to claw back points in the Mountains classification.

The race started off quite calm and relaxed, with only Deceunik-Quick Step’s Remi Cavagna attempting to distance himself from the peloton before being quickly swallowed up again, with the riders continuing to move at a steady pace for around the next 60km. However, as the first climb up the Puerto De Orduna, a 7.8km trek with an average gradient of 7.7% and maxing out an eye-watering 14%, began to loom, a sizeable sixteen-man breakaway began to form. Some of the riders in this initial group included Kuss, Rui Costa of UAE Team Emirates, Magnus Cort Neilson from American team EF Pro Cycling and Astana’s Alex Aranburu. As this breakaway hit the beginning of this steep climb, they had managed to build up a two-minute advantage over the main peloton, but were still faced with competition from a quickly approaching second breakaway group.  

With eighteen riders including AG2R La Mondiale’s Nans Peters and Kenny Elissonde from Trek-Segafredo, along with Michael Woods and Omar Fraile, whose respective teammates Cort and Aranburu were already up the road. Not wanting to be distanced, a trio of riders made up of previous Vuelta a Espana winner Alejandro Valverde, riding for Movistar, along with Mitchelton-Scott’s Mikel Nieve and UAE Team Emirate’s Davide Formolo, also broke away from the main peloton soon after in an attempt to catch up with the groups ahead.

Their efforts, along with those of the eighteen-man breakaway, paid off in the end, catching up to the initial group of sixteen cyclists mid-way through the ascent of the Puerto De Orduna; the three groups eventually merged to form a final thirty-six man breakaway, with those eager to gain points in the mountain classification fighting to get towards the front. 

Meanwhile, back in the main peloton teams including Team Jumbo-Visma, Israel Start-Up Nation, Astana, and Ineos Grenadiers were pushing on the pace, with this main group never conceding more than three minutes to those out in front throughout the entire stage. Chris Froome, riding in his first Grand Tour this year after suffering a horrific crash at last year’s Criterium De Dauphine, set the pace for Ineos Grenadiers at the head of the peloton for a time, showing that he is on the way back to reaching close to his prime cycling form once again.

Out in front, Kuss was the first of the thirty-six-strong breakaway to cross the summit of the Puerto De Orduna, picking up the maximum ten points and virtually securing the Mountains Classification jersey. As he and the other riders entered the descent and began heading towards Espejo, Peters and Guilleme Martin of Cofidis tried to distance themselves from the group to catch up with Kuss who was now a short distance up the road. This attempted three-man breakaway was quickly nipped in the bud however, with the thirty-three riders left chasing behind quick to prevent any significant time gap from opening up.

With the thirty-six man breakaway now reconvened, they continued to cycle together until just around the 60km to-go mark approaching Subijana-Morrilas when another trio of cyclists attempted to gain some daylight between themselves and others in the group. Valverde, AG2R La Mondiale’s Dorion Gordon and Stan DeWulf of Lotto-Soudal were those who decided to go the lead; the maneuver worked well for a time as they were able to maintain a modest thirty-second gap between them and those they had left in the breakaway until around 35km to the finish when they were eventually caught by George Bennett (Team Jumbo-Visma), Wellens and Cort. 

After being initially caught, French cyclist Gordon once again managed to distance himself from the breakaway as they began the descent before facing the Puerto De Orduna for the second and final time of the stage. Gordon, who turned pro in 2016, kept a thirty-second gap between himself and the chasing group during this latest shot for the line, but found it difficult to keep up the pace once the ascent began and was eventually caught by a sizeable chasing group at 25km from the finish.

As the group merged once again and began to weave their way up the Puerto De Orduna for the second time, EF Pro Cycling rider Woods decided to take his chance at 3km from the peak and made a dash up the remainder of the climb, with the other cyclists behind clambering up the mountain in an attempt to catch up to the Canadian. A quartet of riders, Guilleme Martin, Omar Fraile, Nans Peters and Alejandro Valverde, were the only ones to catch up to Woods, eventually reaching him during the descent with 15km to the finish line; in the process of chasing, Martin also secured the maximum mountain points for this second ascent of the Puerto De Orduna, taking away the polka-dot jersey which Sepp Kuss had virtually secured earlier in the race.

As the five riders out front began to make their way towards the finish in Villanueva De Valdegovia, what followed next was a game of cat-and-mouse, with the cyclists dashing away from the group momentarily to see if anyone would take the bait and chase them down. This back-and-forth continued for the next four kilometres; Woods and Fraile, with 3km left, tried to make a break for it but were soon closed down again by the other three, led by Valverde.

The decisive moment in the race, in fact, did not come until the final kilometre when Woods made a final sprint for the line, leaving the others scrambling to once again close the gap. Their efforts were for naught in the end though, with Woods crossing over the line for his second Vuelta stage victory to go along with Stage 17 win in 2018. Richard Carapaz also managed to hold onto the maillot roja for a second day, with his closest competitors Hugh Carthy and Dan Martin remaining unchanged at eighteen and twenty seconds down respectively.

With another eleven stages to ride until the final 124.2km from the Hipodroma de la Zarzuela to Madrid on 8th November, there’s still plenty of time for more exciting moments to come from this year’s Vuelta a Espana in a cycling year which has already thrown up plenty of surprises.

[twoteaspoonsofsuga]

An Open Book (Thommy Fanfic) Chapter 3.

When Jimmy cant run from himself, what else can he do? Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 4, A03.

Thomas was a good kisser. He kissed like it was the last he would ever have. There was an unbridled need there, to express everything in that one kiss. At first, he kept his hands down, didn’t touch Jimmy and then the younger felt slender, gentle fingers slide up the sides of his neck, drawing goose bumps to the surface. Thomas cradled the back of his head, buried his fingers in his hair and deepened the kiss with tongue. And Jimmy felt a flash of lust, white hot through his alcohol addled brain and down to his crotch and he pushed away sharply, covering his mouth, wide eyes darting around. “Jimmy…” Thomas’s voice was lower than usual, raspy and his eyes dizzily intoxicated. And it was doing nothing to help Jimmy. Panic settled in. They say fear does either of two things to a man. You could fight it…or you could run. And Jimmy ran.

He stood up and he ran leaving Thomas behind him calling his name. To this day Jimmy couldn’t tell you where he was running to. He hadn’t a clue. But he ran on, out that courtyard passed a crowd of confused colleagues and employers and down the gravel drive of Downton. Thomas was caught by Branson as he shot past. And Lady Mary asked him: “What is the meaning of this Barrow!?” in a sharp hiss, but his mind and his eyes were with the man who was slowly moving away into the shadows. “I’m sorry M’lady I have to…” he shook his head and broke free making after Jimmy again. Luckily, he much quicker and with much longer legs, he caught up to him grabbing his arm. “Jimmy!” Jimmy yanked it away and whipped round, his eyes brimming with unshed tears and fear. “Get off! Let me go!” But Thomas caught around the waist as he turned and tried to struggle. Thomas heard footsteps behind him, the crunch of stones. “Jimmy! Breathe, you need to breathe.  You need to calm down.” Slowly Jimmy stopped struggling and slid out of Thomas’ arms to crouch on the floor, head in trembling hands and breathing heavily. Thomas next to him crouched and places a wary hand on his back, brow furrowed in concern. “Barrow! James! What is this.” Carson demanded as he arrived behind them, Lady Mary and Branson in tow and the others retreating inside in the distance. “I-I’m not sure…. he…” “Thomas-Mr Barrow he- “Jimmy spoke shakily and Thomas closed his eyes expecting a blow that was about to cost him his job. “He said something that… reminded me of the war.” Thomas frowned. But he continued after a deep breath. “I…I’ve never reacted like that before I guess…I guess it haunts me more than I thought I…” he shook his head running his hands through his hair tightly. Thomas was blown away. “I see…” Mary said in that measured way she always did. “Barrow you should take him back inside. Make him some tea and see to it he gets some rest.” Thomas nodded. “Certainly M’lady…” he helped Jimmy to stand. “Good lord man, get a whiskey down him too. He looks like he’s seen a ghost.” Branson whispered patting his arm as they walked past. Thomas decided against that. He thought perhaps whiskey would be the worst option. Thomas managed to take him past the others without much whispering and he’s sure Carson would do his level best to squash any scandal. Thomas got him to his bedroom and put him to bed without a word from Jimmy. His expression didn’t change he didn’t look Thomas’ way.  He just let him manoeuvre him and pull the blankets over his body. “I’m sorry…” he whispered sadly, brushing his hair from his face. He was nearly out the room when Jimmy’s voice came. “It’s naught to do with you.” Thomas stopped in the doorway and turned back to him. “It’s me…for all you say I’m brave and all I try and believe it. I was always a coward.” “Being scared doesn’t make you a coward.” Thomas whispered the back light casting him in an eerie glow. “It’s how you imprint that fear onto others that makes you a coward. If anything, in that way, I’ve been the biggest coward at Downton for years before you made me brave.” Jimmy blinked at the ceiling contemplating his words finally he sighed and turned to his side. “Good night Thomas…” The elder sagged a little. “Good night Jimmy.” / The fires of hell nipping at him, from his ankles all the way to his waist. I’ve got get out…got to get him out soon, before the fire does tarnish his face. / The morning after was uncomfortable for Jimmy. In several ways. He was bombarded with questions and concern and well wishes all morning. Even Ivy, apparently endeared to him by his breakdown of all things, was clinging to him all day. This meant Thomas kept a distance and though Jimmy needed breathing space, he found himself lost without the man by his side. At dinner service, they stood eyes constantly straying to each and as Jimmy bent to serve a course Lord Grantham cut off his Mother’s ramblings to ask him: “How are you today James?” Jimmy blinked and snapped his eyes away from Thomas, surprised he was being addressed.   “I hear you had a fairly tough time the other day.” The Earl pressed. “Oh…yes M’lord, I’m much better.” “Well good…I know that comrades of mine still are triggered by certain things to this day.” Jimmy nodded as the old man went off on a spiel about war and Jimmy met Thomas’ eyes briefly, flushing pink. “I remember Thomas there served with our Sybil during the war. Isn’t that right Barrow?” Cora asked. “Yes M’lady.” “I never asked Barrow what did you serve as in the war, before you were injured at least?” Mary asked tilting his head ever so. “I was medic M’lady… in the trenches alongside you late husband.” She blinked slowly. “Well…it seems you’re quite cemented in our family’s history Barrow.” “It’s an honour M’lady…seeing a familiar face in a place like that made me miss Downton Abbey all the more. For better or worse…I’m glad to have protected all that we hold dear.” “Here, here.” Robert raised his glass. Jimmy watched Thomas over their heads and twitched a smile at him. Thomas twitched one back. / There wasn’t a word between either of them all evening. Though Jimmy did sit next to him during their supper. Thomas could feel something rolling of him, something simmering, he felt extra sensitive to his presence and so when it was gone after supper there was an emptiness that chilled him. He pushed that aside and decided on an early night. Patience is a virtue. / Knock Knock No answer. Jimmy stood outside Thomas’s door like he was sleepwalking and simply allowed himself entry regardless. He was rendered motionless upon said entry. There was something about Thomas as he slept that stunned Jimmy. His face was soft and pale under the moonbeam the trickled through the gap in his drapes. He looked so young and…ethereal. Delicate even. Jimmy found himself perching on the edge of his bed and his fingers tracing his cheekbone. Thomas made a soft noise in his sleep, turning toward the warmth. Jimmy’s expression never changed instead he simply peeled back the covers causing Thomas to stir as he kicked of his slippers as he slid into bed next to him. Thomas blinked rapidly at the sight before him, as if Jimmy was a mirage that would disappear. But there he was on his back next to him. Beautiful as ever. “Hello.” Jimmy glanced his way eyes almost grey in this light. “Hello.” They lay quite a while in the quiet, then finally Jimmy rolled to his side, nudging under Thomas’ arm and resting his forehead in the elegant crook of the under-butler’s neck. Thomas took in a soft breath and carded his hair as the man in his arms surrendered to slumber at last.  

[ventrue-rosary]

all the OC asks for Autumn, Lyris and Amaranthe :3

Oh jeez! Under a read more because of the length

1) How do they respond to having a song stuck in their head? Does that happen to them often?

Autumn:Softly sings the tune for herself. Or get annoyed, depending on her current mood

Amaranthe: Hums to herself

Lyris: Might whistle, depending

2) How do they feel about confronting their friends when issues arise?

Autumn: Uncomfortable. She knows she might rage and hurt them

Amaranthe: Communication is key, and she is more than happy to speak with her loved ones to resolve issues

Lyris: Nope, no thanks

3) When speaking to themselves in their mind, how do they refer to themselves?

Answered here

4) Do they enjoy wearing socks/stockings when they aren’t wearing shoes?

Autumn: She only takes off her shoes when she goes to bed. Back in the palace though she sometimes ran barefoot through the gardens

Amaranthe: She either wears shoes or soft slippers. A Queen can’t be caught in naught but her stockings

Lyris: Again, more of a boot or barefoot kind of girl

5) Do they have any unappealing habits (ex: picking their nose, hawking loogies)?

Answered here

6) How do they cope with losing a game?

Answered here 

 7) How do they cope with losing an argument?

Answered here 

 8) How do they cope with losing a friend?

Autumn: Bouts of crying. Might get snappy with others

Amaranthe: Grieves in private, but in public holds it together. If they have next of kin she makes sure they are informed, and if they wish it helps them with funeral arrangements and the like

Lyris: VENEGEANCE

9) How do they cope with losing a lover?

Autumn: Complete devastation. Could either have a complete mental breakdown or level a building, no in between

Amaranthe: Doesn’t even try to hide her grief. Wears black mourning clothes for nearly a year. Makes all the arrangements herself, doesn’t reach out for help. If still relatively young remarries because it is expected of her, but never falls in love, and doesn’t have any more children

Lyris: VENEGANCE BUT WITH MORE FEELING

10) Do they enjoy sitting on countertops?

Autumn: Answered here

Amaranthe: Why would she do that when she has a nice, comfy throne?

Lyris: Yep, cross-legged 

11) How expressive is their face? Are they easy to read?

Autumn: An extremely open book, wears her heart on her sleeve

Amaranthe: For the most part no, not unless she is feeling an extreme emotion

Lyris: Yep, she doesn’t try to hide it

12) How do they deal with experiencing physical pain?

Autumn: It keeps her angry!!

Amaranthe: Generally good at dealing with pain. She self-inflicts to fight, after all

Lyris: Doesn’t generally deal well with it, but can be quiet about it

13) Are they easily insulted?

Autumn: Yes, and is quick to respond to it

Amaranthe: Only if someone insults her lineage. She is proud of her parents, dammit, and she won’t hear anyone bad-mouth them!

Lyris: Yep. Fragile ego. But bruise it and she might have her wolf piss in your water skin

14) Would they prefer to act or react?

Autumn: React

Amaranthe: Act

Lyris: Act

15) How would they respond to performing on stage?

Autumn: Wouldn’t even step foot on stage

Amaranthe: Be a bit nervous, but generally perform quite before a large crowd

Lyris: Ger really drunk first

16) Would they ever wear perfume or cologne? When? What would the scent be?

Autumn: A very pleasant cake like scent, vanilla and cocoa. She generally smells like that all the time

Amaranthe: Always wears perfume, sweet and floral, a rose-like scent with an underlying hint of vanilla.

Lyris: Usually smells like pine cones and petrichor. Would wear a floral perfume, maybe, if trying to impress someone

17) Could their personality or interests be considered “flighty?” Do they change their mind/interests often?

Autumn: Hmm, not really, She may be quick to change her minds when planning things with her party, as they are a team

Amaranthe: When needed, she can be quite flexible but generally likes to stick to her guns

Lyris: She’s nothing if not stubborn

18) Do they daydream? Of what?

Autumn: Answered here

Amaranthe:Being back in the wild when she was still young, slayin monsters and saving children, when she didn’t have the weight of an entire kingdom resting on her shoulders

Lyris: A simple log-cabin in the woods. A stream outside cuts through the trees, hastened by a light breeze. Its cold, but a crackling fire keeps her warm. Fenrir rests his head on her lap

19) What is the most inappropriate thing they have ever done in public?

Autumn: Murder

Amaranthe: She’s probably been caught making out with her husband in the halls of the palace when things are getting a little handsy. Not that anyone would be foolish enough to say anything.

Lyris: A quickie behind a tavern

20) What was their favorite toy as a child?

Autumn: A music box her father whittled himself, that plays a tune that would become the only thing capable of dropping her out of her rage

Amaranthe: The wooden sword her father gifted her. She was excited to become a warrior

Lyris: She never really had toys. Now, though... ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

21) What was their favorite way to play as a child (ex: playing pretend, playing games with rules like tag,)?

Autumn: Playing with her imaginary friend, Serendipity

Amaranthe: Hide and seek. She was the best at hiding

Lyris: Play-fighting

22) How do the sneeze (ex: loudly, quietly, openly, into their elbow, hold the sneeze in)?

Autumn: Very dainty, kitten like sneezes

Amaranthe: Discreetly, in a tissue

Lyris: Somewhat loud but she stifles it in her hand. Then usually wipes any mucus on the closest surface that isn't another person. Unless she doesn’t like them

23) When engaged in an irritating conversation, how to they conduct themselves?

Autumn: Tries not to get angry, but inevitable does

Amaranthe: If it is an important noble, she remains amicable. Otherwise she might get snippy

Lyris: Generally insulting

24) What words make them cringe?

Autumn: Anything that might allude to sex or the like

Amaranthe: Words that just sound gross, like moist, chunky, etc

Lyris: Racism

25) How do they feel in large crowds?

Autumn: Somewhat drowned. She’s short after all

Amaranthe: Like she has to be on guard. Anyone could be hiding a poisoned dagger behind their back

Lyris: Ill at ease

26) Would they ever spend an afternoon in a library? What section would they spend the most time in?

Autumn: Tales of romance and adventure

Amaranthe: Same as Autumn. Autumn inherited her mothers taste in novels but she might pick up some steamier novels

Lyris: Likes to read well enough but would get restless before long

27) Do they find it difficult to try new foods?

Autumn: A little. She has a palette used to human and elven food, and knows what she likes

Amaranthe: Is willing to be a bit more adventurous, but stays away from spicy food

Lyris: Honestly she just eats what she can gets. Isn’t too fussy

28) If a friend asked them to taste something and it turned out to be unpleasant, how would they handle it?

Autumn: Try to pretend she enjoyed it, lots of exaggerated ‘Mmmm!’ and rubbing her stomach. She probably flinches though

Amaranthe: Probably tries to be polite but ends up coughing and reaching for a glass of wine to wash it down

Lyris: Spits it out

29) Do they wear underwear?

Autumn: Of course

Amaranthe: For the most part. Sometimes sleeps naked

Lyris: Always sleeps naked

30) Can they pee in front of other people?

Autumn: Nooope

Amaranthe: Not directly in front of them but she’s used to travelling, so isn’t above just nipping behind a tree or bush

Lyris: Probably. She has little shame

31) What story gave them nightmares as a child?

Autumn: Answered here

Amaranthe: She heard many tales of the monsters living in the woods surrounding Evermeet.  Some of those spooked her

Lyris: None, really

32) How would they respond to being handed an infant?

Autumn: A little flustered, but holds them well enough

Amaranthe: Immediately cooing and fawning over the small. Ask about the child then speaks to the child in that high-pitched voice people use when speaking with smalls

Lyris: Probably plays with the rambunctiously, tossing them into the air or running with them on her shoulders

33) How would they respond to being asked to watch over a child for an afternoon?

Autumn: ‘Oh--um...I don’t think that’s a good idea. Are you sure? Ok...’

Amaranthe: Very excited, draws up plans for the entire afternoon

Lyris: Does so and probably feeds them a lot of junk and lets them get away with shit they wouldn’t usually

34) Do they enjoy climbing trees?

Autumn: Not really. One time she flew up high in a tree but then got too scared to come back down. Her dad had to climb up and retrieve her. 

Amaranthe: Used to as a child. Now she only climbs them out of necessity

Lyris: Yep

35) In which of their own skill sets do they have the most confidence? Why?

Autumn: Her fighting. She’s strong, and knows her anger is a boon on the battlefield

Amaranthe: Her magic and other abilities from her patron. She knows these gifts are not given to anyone and doesn’t take her pact lightly

Lyris: Her ability to get in trouble quick

36) Do they enjoy receiving compliments? How do they respond to it?

Autumn: Extremely flustered, completely breaks her lol

Amaranthe: SA bit less flustered, says thanks and might respond with her own

Lyris: Lives off them. Usually has a big grin on her face and might say something like ‘Yeah, I know’ 

37) How often are they the one to initiate physical contact?

Autumn: Hardly ever. Too shy

Amaranthe: There’s a 50/50 chance her or her husband initiate

Lyris: Very comfortable with physical contact, be prepared for her to just hug you, lean on you or flop face down into your chest with no prior warning

38) Do they prefer salty or sweet things?

Sweet for all three

39) Do they get the urge to jump from high places?

Autumn: Only to spread her wings

Amaranthe: Yes, but she knows it is just the intrusive thought everyone gets

Lyris: She was used to doing that as a dragon, but knows she no longer has wings

40) Have they ever written a dirty letter and actually sent it?

Autumn: Never

Amaranthe: Nope

Lyris: Surprisingly, nope. She’d rather tell you to your face

41) How would they describe their love life?

Autumn: New, and a little scary

Amaranthe: Happily married and committed for life

Lyris: Wholesome

42) How would they describe their sex life?

Autumn: *intense blushing* ‘Non-existant’

Amaranthe: ‘Exciting...adventurous.’

Lyris: ‘The best I ever had’

43) Do they hide objects? What and where?

Autumn: Only on her person. Put her money in her backpack so she’s likely not to get pick-pocketed

Amaranthe: Not really. She trusts the servants not to steal

Lyris: Doesn’t really have anywhere to hide her objects. Otherwise she would be building back up her horde

44) What are their reasons for getting up in the morning (outside of achieving their main goal)?

Autumn: She loves breakfast food

Amaranthe: Duty, responsibility, seeing her husband again

Lyris: Nothing to start ones day off like a round of sex. Also she wants to give Fenrir pets

45) Who is their greatest confidant? Who confides in them?

Autumn: Used to be her brother, but he’s gone now so probably Kevir, or Corellon as she’s taken to praying

Amaranthe: Her husband. Her children used to come to her for problems, before they left

Lyris: She doesn’t like relying on people too much. She has confided quite a bit in Bahamut, though

46) What is something they’ve always wanted to do, but know they shouldn’t?

Autumn: Well, she ran away from home, and started her own life away from court. 

Amaranthe: Take a goddamn vacation

Lyris: Bold of you to assume she has impulse control

47) Is there someone whose laugh makes them laugh as well?

Autumn: Kevir’s

Amaranthe: Balthazar’s

Lyris: Doesn’t take much to make her laugh, tbh. Any of her friends starts laughing chances are she will

48) How festive are they on holidays?

Autumn: She adores the holidays, and always gets in the spirit. Is the first to initiate snowball fights during Christmas time

Amaranthe: Always hosts themed balls and banquets,. inviting nobles and dignitaries from far and wide. 

Lyris: Doesn’t really celebrate them

49) How would they respond to their ears ringing for an extended period of time?

Autumn: Silently wish they would stop

Amaranthe: See her physician

Lyris: Ignore it 

50) How likely is it that they would be the first to point out a full moon or a beautiful sunset?

Autumn: Very likely. Probably excitedly points and goes ‘Look, look!’

Amaranthe: Turns her attention to it and smiles, probably remarks how beautiful it is

Lyris: *shrugs* nbd. Even is she is looking at it she probably doesn’t point it out to other people

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New Post has been published on PBA-Live

New Post has been published on http://pba-live.com/johnson-jaywash-clutch-as-rain-or-shine-outduels-nlex-for-third-straight-win/

Johnson, JayWash clutch as Rain or Shine outduels NLEX for third straight win

ANTIPOLO – Rain or Shine proved steadier than NLEX in the clutch as it hacked out a 98-97 decision to stay undefeated in the PBA Commissioner’s Cup on Wednesday night at the Ynares Center.

Reggie Johnson converted the marginal free throw after Jay Washington hit a huge three-pointer from the left corner as the Elasto Painters emerged victorious in a nip-and-tuck battle against an NLEX side led by former coach Yeng Guiao.

The Road Warriors registered a third straight win to grab the solo lead, in the process spoiling the debut of new NLEX import Arnett Moultrie as the Road Warriors suffered a second straight setback.

“It was a scary win for us, but we’ll take it,” ROS coach Caloy Garcia said. “As long as we continue playing this way – help each other out, we’ll be okay.”

The E-Painters were down, 94-95, in a game that saw 11 deadlocks and the same number of lead changes, when Washington buried that triple to give them a two-point lead with a minute and 47 seconds left.

Moultrie scored on a putback reverse layup to tie the game one last time with 58 ticks to go, before Johnson grabbed his own offensive rebound on the other end then drew a foul that led to the burly import splitting his charities that was enough to seal deal.

Johson showed the way with 27 points, 14 boards, three assists, and three blocks in 35 minutes, while manning the middle along with Raymond Almazan who added 12 points, nine rebounds, two blocks, and one steal in just 23 minutes.

Chris Tiu also chipped in 12 points, five assists, three steals, two rebounds, and forced a turnover in the Road Warriors’ last offensive possession to prevent them from taking a game-winning shot.

But Washington turned out to the be the E-Painters’ trump card, scoring all his 10 points in the payoff period and finishing with three rebounds and one steal without a turnover in less than nine minutes of play.

Moultrie finished with 24 points and 17 boards, but committed five turnovers, while Kiefer Ravena and JR Quinahan added 23 points apiece that went for naught.

The scores:

ROS 98 – Johnson 27, Tiu 12, Washington 10, Almazan 12, Norwood 9, Belga 7, Yap 5, Nambatac 4, Ponferada 3, Onwubere 3, Casiño 2, Ahanmisi 2, Daquioag 2

NLEX 97 – Moultrie 24, Quiñahan 23, Ravena 23, Soyud 10, Tiongson 5, Monfort 3, Ighalo 3, Mallari 3, Taulava 0, Rios 0, Miranda 0, Gotladera 0, Buenafe 0

Quarterscores: 23-22, 45-46, 72-77, 98-97

Source: https://www.spin.ph/basketball/pba/news/reggie-johnson-jay-washington-clutch-as-rain-or-shine-nips-nlex-to-spoil-debut-of-arnett-moultrie#UaQchmTSpvmJCujI.99

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New Post has been published on PBA-Live

New Post has been published on http://pba-live.com/guiao-ross-verbal-sparring-mars-san-miguel-victory-over-nlex-in-ill-tempered-game/

Guiao-Ross verbal sparring mars San Miguel victory over NLEX in ill-tempered game

SAN Miguel Beer came through when it counted most again as it frustrated NLEX, 109-98, in a heated PBA Philippine Cup matchup on Friday night at the Cuneta Astrodome.

Arwind Santos and June Mar Fajardo led the Beermen in a nip-and-tuck battle that only saw the two teams get separated in an ill-tempered endgame marred by several second motions and a verbal altercation between Chris Ross and NLEX coach Yeng Guiao.

The Beermen stretched their win streak to four games to solidify their hold on the top spot while handing the Road Warriors their third straight loss after a 2-0 start.

“I knew from the start this would be an exciting game,” SMB coach Leo Austria said of NLEX. “After losing their last two games, they would come out strong. But my players, because of their pride and experience, we prevailed.”

Santos registered a game-high 26 points embellished by five treys, on top of 13 rebounds, four assists, two steals, and two blocks as his last three-pointer capped a 16-4 that gave the Beermen their biggest lead at 103-89 with a little over two minutes left after NLEX pulled to within 87-85.

Despite the game going beyond reach, the physicality between the players kept it interesting, seeing Michael Miranda let out a kick to Ross that led to the former getting called for flagrant foul 2 and ejected with over four minutes left.

Ross was again involved in a tussle, this time a shouting match with Guiao as the two were each called for a technical foul.

Fajardo, one of the cool heads that kept the situation from going out of hand, added 25 points on 10-of-16 shooting, 16 boards, two assists, one steal, and one block in 36 minutes.

Alex Cabagnot chipped in an all-around performance of 14 points, nine assists, seven rebounds, and two steals in 33 minutes, while Marcio Lassiter and Von Pessumal were the other two SMB players who scored in double digits.

Kiefer Ravena led the Road Warriors with 15 points on 4-of-10 shooting, along with six assists, and three boards that went for naught.

The scores:

SMB 109 — Santos 26, Fajardo 25, Cabagnot 14, Lassiter 14, Pessumal 10, Ganuelas-Rosser 6, De Ocampo 4, Ross 4, Heruela 2, Mamaril 2, Semerad 2

NLEX 98 — Ravena 15, Mallari 12, Quiñahan 12, Soyud 12, Miranda 10, Tiongson 8, Fonacier 6, Uyloan 6, Al-Hussaini 5, Alas 5, Taulava 3, Baguio 2, Gotladera 2

Quarterscores: 31-24, 49-58, 74-74, 109-98

Source: http://www.spin.ph/basketball/pba/news/smb-keeps-unbeaten-record-after-win-over-nlex-in-heated-matchup#p5liYM73AAJr4yJ5.99