#and some dude with a 'second place tramp stamp'

[crispycostumes]

i think only tangentially consuming aftg through my beloved mutuals reblogs is the funniest way i could possibly learn about that series

[daisyingchain]

would ya look who it is, lisene michaud - cordovés in the flesh! dude, i heard they were a fashion designer & product developer at that place across town. yeah, no ,they’re the one that’s really attentive and pleasant but my buddy said they’re super self - critical and a bit sensitive too. i wonder what they’re doing over here though? c'mon let’s go back to my place and i can show you their myspace profile, it autoplays can u handle it? by usher when it boots up, it’s great.

     i. statistics.name: lisene michaud - cordovés. nickname: lis, lise. meaning: determination, sincerity. age: forty-four. gender, sexuality, pronouns: cis woman, bisexual, she/her. parents: rené michaud, father, living & mireille michaud ( née lynch ), mother, living. siblings: none. education: bachelors in fashion design & merchandising, bachelors in marketing & sales. languages spoken: english, french, spanish, asl. occupation: fashion designer & product developer at her own recently purchased store.

hair: deep copper, falling inches below mid-back. eye color: warm shade of green. height: five feet and 4 inches. tattoos: sun-faded pink, purple & black butterfly tramp stamp on lower back, 5 inch corset-style with interlacing ribbon piece, starting between shoulder blades, ribbon neatly "tied" in a dainty bow. piercings: madison (chest dermal), first and second holes in ears.      ii. an overview. miracle daughter to rené and mireille michaud; their only child, lisene might've been spoiled senseless ( having once been gifted the most beautiful clydesdale for maintaining high honors ), but she was never ungrateful. while she took after her father, baring a striking resemblance to his own mother, lisene inherited her mother's goodwill. unfortunately, though, with her heart on her sleeve, lisene hurts easily - in her younger years, if you'd so much as raise your voice to her, lisene was in tears. in the years since, as she's matured, she's learned to take less to heart... and prefers to surround herself with like-minds.

following graduation, lisene attended the fashion institute of technology, where she'd ( inevitably ) excel, rubbing elbows with some of the best designers in the game - it was around this time that she'd conceptualized her very first collection, and her success grew from there. before she knew it, lisene was leasing her first store and had a full clientele roster. she bought her first place, certainly not short of breath-taking views or acreage, ample space for her to create and live harmoniously.

if you need to find her, lisene's most often at her store, seated in the backroom with her sewing machine running. dedicated to her craft... it's her life's work! always looking for gifted people to hire - offering an opportunity to have their work seen ( whether it be jewelry, wearable textiles, ten inch platforms constructed out of orange street cones ), in exchange for assistance with completing orders and very generous paychecks. tldr; at the core, a big-hearted fashion luver & designer... and, as a recent business owner, she offers incredibly nice clothes for a fairly reasonable price. she hires aspiring designers to work out of her store for a monthly commission fee, offering to list and sell pieces for her staff. lisene is known for coming into work and handing out coffee/tea, gift cards and scratch off tickets.

[bbrandy2002]

Fool’s Rush In

Chapter 20

Book: TRR

Pairing: Liam x Riley

Warnings: Language and mentions of weird sexual stuff

**Thanks @burnsoslow​. for pre-reading and “The Army” girls for snippet reads.

-------------------

“An email from the Countess?” Ana questioned curiously, just before hitting the video attachment that came with it. Her plush lips soon curved into an enchanted grin when it became apparent who the subjects in the video were and precisely what they were doing together. “Looks like you’re about to get your hard-hitting royal news after all.”

Having finally retrieved his phone, Donnie situated himself upright in the bed and began playing the same email attachment as his lover. By the sounds of the grunts and groans coming from Ana’s phone, it was apparent to the ace-reporter what he was about to watch -- even if the occasional horse neighs were a little confusing. 

Within seconds of hitting play, the man’s jaw dropped wide open as he took in the content. 

“Holy shit, dude, Is that …?”

Ana's intrigued gaze tore from her phone screen and raised a brow at Donnie. “The King’s head guard dressed like a cowboy spanking Lucretia Nevrakis and licking another woman wearing a horse mask in a barn?” She shook her head. “Yes … and did you just call me ‘dude’?”

Ignoring her question, the couple resumed watching for a few more seconds, their facial expressions morphing from one of intrigue to utter disgust when finally Lucretia went full-frontal, nudity before the camera, then spreading wide for Bastien. “Oh, God! The hell?” Donnie grimaced as Ana slapped a hand over her mouth next to him and turned her head away. “I can’t watch this shit.” He lamented, quickly shutting his phone off.

After Ana followed suit and powered her cell off too, the pair sat in uncomfortable silence, simultaneously staring blankly at the same wall across from them, neither knowing what to say or think about what they had just watched together. Eventually, Ana lifted the satin sheet covering her waist up a little higher over her breast, a sense of sleaze and uncleanliness rooting itself and sprouting throughout her body. “I … I don’t know what part was worse: Mystery horsewoman with the guinea pig in Bastien or Lucretia’s wrinkled tramp-stamp with ‘Connie’ written inside what I can only assume is a dick.”

Donnie pinched the bridge of his nose. “Let’s be clear: there was no worse part. It was all worse! What the hell was that, anyway?”

The Trend editor just shook her head slowly with a glazed-over expression in her eyes; she finally spoke, “I … I think I’m going to go now.” 

“Ana! Don’t let this ruin our night.”

Her expression turned remorseful at his pleading; it had been a great night. “I’m sorry, Mr. Brine. I need to be alone.”

Neither one could look at the other. Ana slowly raised from the bed, gathering up her scattered clothes from the floor, tearing her bra from the doorknob, and then slipped on her heels. Why the Countess sent that video to them, she’d never know, but as she and Donnie exchanged a timid wave of goodbye, Ana left knowing she would never forgive Madeleine Amaranth for ruining the best night of sex she ever had.

This had to be some kind of bizarre and insane mistake.

And usually, Donnie Brine would call this “hard-hitting” new’s story into the station and scramble for the nearest camera to report on it. 

This was not something he would ever share with Cordonia, nor would the duo realize what they just watched was not the video the Countess intended to send them.

---------------------------------

A baby. My baby. I’m going to be a father. Those words were all Liam could think about as he rode through the glittery neon boulevards of Las Vegas toward the hospital. At that moment, the clear blue heavens above him could open wide and strike him down with a bolt of thunder, and he’d swear he wouldn’t have felt a thing. The King was riding a wave of euphoria unlike anything he’d ever experienced; Riley loved him and was carrying his baby. Nothing in all the world mattered anymore.

Before taking off, it was clear that Bastien likely escaped during the brother’s brawl in the front yard of Riley’s home and apparently took the keys to the Escalade they arrived in with him. The neighborly Burt, who moments prior had a shotgun aimed at the royal duo, reluctantly agreed to drive into the city to drop them off at the hospital on his way to pick up his daughter on the east side of town. He gruffly mentioned, "my girl never learned not to kick her customers in the frank 'n' beans and steal their shit," but neither of the brothers paid much attention.

Riding in the back of a truck while sitting on a spare tire through sunny downtown Vegas wasn’t the way Liam intended to get there, but he was dead set on finding his Pussycat by any means necessary. And, of course, Leo called shotgun but was nice enough to offer his little brother the opportunity to “ride bitch”.

Liam unequivocally declined.

During the bumpy 25-minute ride to Valley Hospital, Liam wondered how it was possible to get everything he ever wanted in such a brief span of time. Literally, his entire heart's desires were being gifted to him one by one; it was both exhilarating and terrifying at the same time. All he ever wanted was to find happiness, a chance to love, and have a genuine family of his own -- Not an arrangement that would guarantee him a life of misery at worst or of mediocrity at best. When he stepped foot in Sin City several weeks ago, depressed and hopeless at the prospects of his impending marriage to Madeleine, never did he expect life and fate would throw him a twist in the tale. All it took was a weekend bachelor party, an awkwardly shy woman mistaking him for her Tinder date, and a ton of hard booze shared between them to change the entire trajectory of his life. 

Once the rusted-out truck came to a stop at the emergency entrance, Liam wasted no time climbing over the truck’s wooden rail sides and rushing through the revolving doors. Leo’s heavy footsteps could be heard racing behind him. 

Liam’s heart pounded as the seconds -- which seemed liked hours -- ticked by. Not since he was a young boy waiting on his mother to return from her trip in Auvernal had he been more excited to reunite with someone.

Escorted through the long, winding hallways by hospital security to the radiology department, Liam was led inside a room, where his breath instantly hitched at catching his first glimpse of Riley in two-and-a-half days.

Sitting at the foot of an exam table, dressed in a hospital gown, slender legs bare and swinging freely over the side, Riley’s head snapped up at the sound of the door opening. “Liam,” she whispered, relief dripping from her eyes before sliding off the table.

“Pussycat,” he breathed, unable to contain his emotions as she nearly sprinted the short distance between them and into his waiting arms. “I have missed you terribly, Love.”

Riley held onto him tightly, afraid to let go. “I’m so sorry, Liam. I’m so very sorry,” her strangled voice choked out. “I never should have listened to Madeleine.”

“Shhhh. You have nothing to be sorry about,” Liam assured, his hand threading and kneading through her bountiful hair comfortingly. “I watched the security footage, and I saw the way Madeleine confronted you. The way she grabbed you, the way she -- hurt you.” Liam’s face tightened before he kissed her head. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Riley answered meekly, “Because she threatened to release an old video of me being intimate during my first marriage. She told me if I didn’t leave, that video would get out and that it would look bad on you, and the council would likely strip you of your crown.” She squeezed him tighter. “I had to protect you.”

Liam looked down at his wife affectionately, placing both hands on the sides of her face, his thumbs wiping away the tears desperately clinging like morning dew to her eyes. “Sweetheart, look at me. The only thing you ever have to protect when it comes to me is my heart. I have guards -- although not the best -- to protect me physically. I have tradition and a birthright to protect my name and crown and a military to safeguard my country. But you, Riley ... you, have the power to destroy me. You’re the keeper of my heart. The one who makes it beat. Without your love to keep it going … well, let’s just say I  don’t ever want to know what that kind of pain would feel like.” They kissed once more as if it were their first and last one ever. 

Plucking out a blade of grass from his hair, Riley smiled brightly for the first time in days. “I’ll guard it with everything in me, Liam. I swear it.”

“You bet your sweet ass you will,” Liam smirked mischievously, grabbing a handful of her backside, causing her to belt out a laugh. “Besides, you took a drunken vow at the Graceland Wedding Chapel before Leo, Mongo, and Pinquee Kittee to love me tender, love me true; that’s about as sacred and binding of an oath as it gets.”

Riley chuckled. “I did. And we all know how those three are the greatest examples of loving and committed relationships.  Even if Mongo did try to steal you away from me.”

“Which worries me considering he’s apparently our ‘son.’” Liam said it tongue-in-cheek, but it instantly reminded him of the other reason he was in such a rush to get to his queen. The playfulness in his mannerisms tapered off, and he became more serious. Liam leaned down, pressing a kiss to her forehead before working his way lower to the tip of her nose, her lips, and further to Riley’s chin. Slowly sinking to his knees, sliding his hands down her body until he had a firm grip on her slender hips, Liam rested his own forehead on Riley’s lower tummy.

“It’s amazing, isn’t it?”

“What’s that?” Riley asked softly.

Liam placed a lingering kiss onto the thin covering over her flat tummy and glanced up into her gleaming eyes, both filled with ceaseless wonder and rapture. “How you can love someone so much that you’ve never met.”

Riley blinked away a tear, her tiny fingers tracing feather-like trails through his hair. “I know, and yet somehow I’ve been asking myself that question since I met you.”

Liam’s eyes crinkled with a tender smile. “Me too.”

--------------------------------- 

Pacing languidly up and down the hallway outside the room where Liam and Riley were reuniting, Leo let out an exasperated huff before halting his steps to take a quick gander through the long glass window of the door. Leo smiled at watching his brother and sister-in-law embrace and seemed thrilled to be with one another again. And the prospects of -- in his mind -- becoming an uncle “again” was cool and all, but he was bored as hell. Liam was adamant about the former prince staying put and giving him this time needed to speak with Riley in private. Usually, Leo would pay no attention to what Liam asked of him, but maybe, just maybe, it was time for him to get serious and act like the adult he was. Read the room. Respect boundaries. Know when to quit.

Or maybe not.

Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he headed back in the direction that he and Liam had been led from moments ago, looking for something to kill time.  Strolling leisurely past a set of double doors that displayed “Emergency” in big red letters next to them, a thought suddenly struck, and he took two gliding steps backward. Leo lifted a speculative brow; there was something in the inner machination of his chaotic brain that told him to follow his gut, head inside, and he wouldn’t be sorry. Never one to ignore an instinct or impulse, Leo punched the large metallic button on the wall, causing one of the automatic doors to swing open. 

After stepping inside, he meandered around for a minute, not exactly sure what he was looking for but hoping he might catch a glimpse of a hot nurse walking around without a top on who would want to do naughty things to him. Or perhaps, a naked lady doctor with a nice ass who would manhandle him out of the emergency department, but who he’d eventually win over with his impeccable good looks and god-like sex appeal. He could pretend to be her patient, and if he were lucky, she’d have a bad bedside manner.

Passing a row of draped exam rooms, Leo noticed one curtain pulled open and a young brunette, with part of her thong showing, crouched on the floor, peeking stealthily through the blue drapery that divided the area from the patient on the opposite side.

Curious now to what this woman was so interested in from the next exam room, Leo crossed his arm and stared downward at the floor, lightly whistling a tune, as two doctors walked past him. When they rounded a corner, Leo edged closer to the curtain to listen in.

“Mr. Walker, do you feel any pain when I do this?”

“Ow! What the fuck do you think?” 

At hearing Drake’s irascible voice, Leo’s ears instantly shot up. “No way,” Leo mumbled in astonishment to himself. “Walker is here?” The last he knew, Drake was supposed to have headed back to Cordonia the day before. He leaned in closer.

“You pinched my dick with a pair of damn tweezers. Yeah, you could say there’s a little pain there. Shit!”

Leo clamped a fist over his mouth to keep from busting out. Of all the places his naughty gut had ever led him to, knowing Drake was here and having transplanted dick problems may have been in his top 100 --Nothing would ever beat running with the bulls in Barcelona with Kanye and a very stoned Prince Charles. Leo smiled fondly at the memory before shaking his head and getting back to business.

“We’re just making sure you have feeling in your penis, Mr. Walker.”

“Then touch it with a fucking finger. Seriously, what the hell is wrong with you people? You wanna take a jackhammer to my knees next and see if they feel pain too?”

“That won’t be necessary,” Leo overheard the doctor tell Drake. “I expect you’re going to be fine, Mr. Walker. I didn’t see any major discoloration aside from a deep bluish hue to your testicles --” Leo snorted out loudly, causing the doctor to turn his head briefly to the disruption outside the curtain, before clearing his throat and continuing, “A hearty ejaculation or two should clear that right up. When was the last time you --”

“I’ll take care of it,” Drake hastily interrupted in a peevish tone, not wanting the physician to finish the question.

“Very well then. You should be fine. I’ll have the nurse get your discharge papers together, and you can be on your way … And, sir ... try to avoid getting ninja smacked by hookers in the future.”

“I’ll see what I can do …. asshole.” Drake snarled under his breath.

Feeling spunky, an impish grin crossed Leo’s lips as he strolled away undetected from Drake’s doctor leaving his room. “The Drakesters not going anywhere just yet,” he snickered, heading toward a cart with blue scrubs that he passed earlier. “Paging Dr.Wolfshitz to trauma room one. Stat.”

--------------------

Still peeking inconspicuously into the next exam room, Alyssa’s gaze followed Drake’s doctor and a nurse as they exited to work on his discharge. She remained motionless and quiet, barely breathing, fearful she’d get caught. Why she hadn’t looked away yet was beyond her. What was only supposed to be a little looksie at the man, to quench her gnawing intrigue over what was below his belt, had now left her drawn to him.

And while Alyssa saw for herself that everything was normal down there, -- humungous, actually -- it was the sadness and hurt in his deep chocolate eyes that kept the perky, petite woman in spy mode. 

“You can stop hiding behind that curtain, Riley’s friend,” Drake grumbled.

“Eep!” Alyssa yelped at being caught and took a quick step back, nearly toppling clumsily over her feet. He couldn’t have been talking about her. He wasn’t even looking in her direction when he said it. She had been so careful to remain hidden. But who the hell else could he be talking to? Alyssa held her breath, hoping another one of Riley’s friends was hidden on the other side.

“I saw your little beady eyes watching me. Might as well come out from behind that curtain and laugh in my face … you wouldn’t be the first one.”

There were no doubts he was talking about her now. Frozen in panic and unable to move, Alyssa’s cheeks burned, and her heart raced at getting called out. She wondered why she couldn’t have just left well enough alone. If curiosity killed the cat, Alyssa just spent all nine of her lives.

“That’s how it's gonna be, huh?” Drake called out to her again in a snarky tone, yet Alyssa didn’t dare move. “That’s fine. I know I’m just a big joke to everyone now.” He lowered his voice just slightly in self-pity. “Maybe in some ways, I always have been.”

That stung. Alyssa couldn’t discern whether he was actually upset with her about snooping on him -- he probably was -- or as the nagging feeling in her gut was telling her: he just needed a friend. Taking in a deep breath, she skittishly slipped the curtain aside, avoiding eye contact and forcing only a diffident smile. “I’m … I’m sorry.”

He smiled back. “I’m not. I’m Drake.”

---------

With Riley discovering she was pregnant, the E.R. attending opted to forego continuing with the ordered x-rays, believing she had nothing more than a bruised tailbone from her fall, anyway. With the pain she experienced since the encounter with Madeleine, the doctor wanted her to have an ultrasound to ensure everything was fine with the baby and date the pregnancy.

Riley laid back on the exam table, feet planted and legs separated. A technician gingerly moved around an ultrasound probe under the sheet draped from her waist to her bent up knees. Riley and Liam vigilantly watched the screen, anxiously waiting for the black-and-white image to produce the first glimpse of their baby.

Flashing a timid smile, Riley glanced up at Liam, who was hovering over her with his eyes transfixed on the screen. Noticing her unsure look, he leaned down and whispered, “Everything okay, love?”

She shook her head almost imperceptibly and answered meagerly with all seriousness, “What if … what if our baby has a beard, Liam?”

The bewildered king puckered his forehead, unsure what to say. “Wh--why would the baby have a beard, pussycat?” He squeezed her hand reassuringly before she yanked it away and covered her eyes in embarrassment.

She sucked in an unsteady breath, impervious to the prodding continuing below. “Because my Aunt Clem’s firstborn came out with a tiny goatee like that munchkin from the Lollipop Guild,” she began to whimper in increasing frustration, plucking at the tip of her chin.

Liam’s eyes widened as he blew out a huff of air. “Then … I suppose … we’ll stick him in a carnival or something.” He chuckled despite himself. “Or get him one of those top hats and a cane.”

“It was a girrrrrrl,” Riley cried out, covering her face again. “My dad’s family is from Kentucky … there’s gotta be inbreeding somewhere in the past. Our baby will come out looking like a mini Chewbacca, and it’s all my fault. Oh god! What have I done to our child?” She sniffled through her rant, “If you want a divorce, I’ll understand.”

Normally able to keep a stoic demeanor in any kind of situation, Liam just couldn’t do it in this instance. He turned his face away to prevent his wife from seeing the giant smirk on his face and to take a moment to regain his composure from wanting to bust out at her theatrics. He didn’t know what the hell he married into or why this woman he loved so much all of a sudden had forgotten she was adopted. 

It would be an interesting nine months.

Riley frowned with a simper, “You can’t even look at me. I’ll have to raise this little hairball all by myself. They’ll have us in the ‘weird things’ section of the National Enquirer next to Drake.”

She was correct: he couldn’t look at her -- she was being completely ridiculous. Liam’s shoulders bounced against his stifled laughter. “Dear God, Riley. You’ve got to stop.”

“You’re laughing at me.”

Unaware of the pair of eyes at the foot of the exam table, glaring between the couple in absolute confusion, the technician performing the scan cleared her throat to break the tension. “I hate to interrupt … this.” She nodded between the two.”But, here’s your baby.” She tapped her fingertip on the screen to a small oblong shape on the monitor with a tiny white form in the center. Riley lowered her hands from her teary face and whipped her head around at the same time Liam did, both wholly captivated. “It’s too early to tell if there is a … goatee. But this little flicker right here --” She pointed out. “-- Is where the heart is beating.”

Feeling his wife’s hand grip his tighter, Liam stood motionless for a moment as he watched the tech pause the screen to get measurements before sucking in his lips and dropping his head onto Riley’s shoulder. “Did you see the heart beating, my love? That’s our baby. Our perfect baby.”

Blinking back a tear of joy, Riley turned her head toward her shoulder to meet Liam’s adoring eyes. “Thank you for not covering your lizard.”

-----------------------------

Blushing from head to toe in guilt and embarrassment, Alyssa took a step inside of Drake’s room, letting the curtain fall back behind her. Twirling a section of hair around her finger, she continued to apologize, feeling it was the right thing to do. “Again, I’m really sorry, Mr. Walker --”

“I told you my name is Drake. Mr. Walker was my father’s name. Please, just call me Drake,” he insisted in a softer tone that took the awkward-feeling Alyssa by surprise.

“Drake,” she repeated as she picked at the cuticle of her thumbnail, “I shouldn’t have been watching you, and I know I invaded your privacy. I swear, in spite of what this looks like, I’m not some creeper. I just thought … “ Alyssa looked away bashfully, twisting on her feet. “you’re really handsome.” It was true, even if she knew damn well that’s not why she peeked in at him.

Drake cocked a brow, calling her bluff. “Really?” he replied skeptically. ”That’s the only thing you were looking at?”

Dabbing at her increasingly perspiring forehead and feeling the blood drain into her feet, Alyssa declared, “I think I’m going to pass out now.”

Sensing she was serious, Drake quickly tapped the rolling chair next to his bed and insisted she sit down. Walking on wobbly legs, Alyssa finally plopped down on the chair and fanned her ashen face with one hand. Drake quickly twisted the cap off an unopened bottle of cold water one of the nurses had given him and offered it to Alyssa. She gratefully took it and guzzled a giant swig from the plastic container. Soon her breathing normalized, and the color in her face started to pinken again.

Drake stared at her in concern. “Do you want me to yell for the doctor?”

Alyssa shook her head insistently. “No. I’m better now. I just got a little anxious, is all, but I deserved it. I shouldn’t have looked at you.” She paused for a moment before offering a genuine smile. “By the way: I don’t think you’re a joke, and I would never laugh at you. I really do think you’re handsome.”

He could tell what she was saying to him was true, and for the first time in weeks, it felt nice to have someone to talk to who didn’t want to discuss a certain medical procedure he’d recently undergone. “I appreciate that … Alyssa, right?” She nodded her head. “You have beautiful eyes --”

“I hate to interrupt this party, -- ay,” A doctor in blue scrubs, a surgical cap, mask, and a horrible Canadian accent came strolling in gleefully, almost out of nowhere. “It’s time for your surgery, Mr. Walkersan -- ay.”

Drake shot straight up in his bed, glaring at the man. “What?” he screeched. “I’m getting discharged. That other doctor said I was fine.”

“Oh no, no, no -- ay. Doctor … Pepper … Stein, sent me down here to wheel you at once into surgery. Your test results showed a lot of icky stuff that needs to be taken care of at once lest you lose your manhood again. Ay.”

Narrowing his eyes, Drake shot back. “What bad stuff?”

“Uh, let me see here -- ay,” Leo began flipping through a makeshift chart he was holding in his hands and pretending to scan over a particular page. “Oy me. There seems to be … algae overgrowth in the upper ... sphincter of the … Dua Lipa -- ay. And thees muy crabs have set up a colony on the Los ballsackos.”

“The fuck are you talking about?” Drake asked incredulously while Alyssa patted his arm comfortingly. “What the hell is a Los ballsackos?”

“Es los ballsackos is los ballsackos.” Leo hastily scolded as he eyed Drake sternly. “We shan't have no time to waste. Das ist Viener schloggin … we remove the viewer and then the scloggin or there be little la cucarachas crawling everywhere -- la vie en rose, amigo.”

“No one’s removing my viener, or my scloggin!” Drake protested.

“Excuse me,” Alyssa rose to her feet, knowing there was something off with this sketchy acting doctor. “I speak fluent Spanish and French, and I can tell you, almost none of that made sense. Not to mention the fact that I believe part of that was German and ancient English. ¿De dónde sacaste tu título, doctor?”

Leo’s bright blue eyes dulled with uncertainty as Alyssa crossed her arms, awaiting a response. Scrambling for an answer and wishing he’d paid more attention during his language lessons, he ultimately replied with a shirk, “Eh … Despacito?”

“Despacito?” Alyssa challenged before glancing over at Drake, who was still glaring a hole into the perceived physician, then returning her gaze back to a cow-eyed Leo. “Who are you, really?”

"Who am I really?" Leo replied with a smug grin as he lowered the surgical mask that was hiding his face. "I'm Dr. Wolfschitz, baby."

[jq37]

The Report Card – Fantasy High: The Seven Ep 3

Let’s Split Up and Look for Clues! 

Welcome back to the Seven and the Museum of Adventuring. My previous pronouncement of combat was a little premature but hold tight, we’ll get there. For now, we’re back with Antiope who just saw a glimpse of the Ending of Things (aka, Ending) and is freaking out a bit. She tells the others and they all do various checks to see what they can find out.

Ostentatia casts Commune With City and clocks that there is some kind of abjuration shield magic on the government buildings in town, stopping them from being spied on. She also clocks some lingering undead-ish magic and a weird divination effect on Antiope, specifically on the Aguefort logo of her jacket, like someone scryed on her and just got that she had something to do with Aguefort. At this, Penny reminds her that the only true piece of info they gave Ending when they broke her out is that they were from Aguefort.

Sam with a 19 Insight still feels the connection she and Ant have with Ending because of their spells turned against them in the initial encounter. Yelle does a Perception check (27) and once again doesn’t really get bad, dreadful, menacing vibes. But also, she recognizes that she’s chill with a lot of things most people don’t love. 

Antiope reiterates that she texted Charity that she’s interested in the internship so she can learn more info--even better now that they know the buildings are safe from scrying. Yelle remembers Aguefort’s warning about people watching them and Sam asks Zelda if her “weird boyfriend” (“he’s actually really cool”) is friends with the elven oracle. Zelda says yeah, they’re both friends with Adaine, she can ask about any weird divination stuff. Sam makes sure to specify she should look into TK but NOT Ending, no doubt remembering what happened when she tried to do a spell on her. 

It’s been a big day as Zelda says so they all go to the TGIF-esque Slappy McFinnigans to celebrate (which Sam has problems with--the fact that they’re celebrating I mean, but she’s mainly ignored). They’re quickly kicked out because Katja can’t help herself from trying to brush the mane of their centaur server and they reconvene at the more their speed SlamBurger, where a horse can fully destroy a soda machine to absolutely zero reaction.  Zelda says that Ostentatia was right in that they should all do the quest because it doesn’t close any doors and they have the 2 weeks to figure things out. They all seem a bit more on the same page (though Sam is still pretty frosty towards Ant) and start making plans.

Before they leave, Yelle pulls aside Ant and Sam and says hey, first of all, you two are still linked to Ending from before. Second of all, I know y’all are Going Through It right now and you don’t have to talk about it or make up right away but you need to get your heads in the game and you need to know that you’re both loved and still family. 

Penny, Zelda, Katja, and Ostentatia go back to the museum to try and get more information for their quest. Katja goes to the information desk (horse in tow, of course) and just starts asking information about TK. She’s told that she’s one of the museum’s benefactors and has been missing for years, and hey, do you understand that a museum’s info desk is about where the water fountains and exhibits are, not just random information about the world?

Ostentatia bails her out by calling her over so she can do her plan which is just to walk into the back area like she owns the place. Now, Aguefort students do have a certain level of clearance to be back there and she does have her school ID. But instead of explaining that, she tried to use her Earrings of Diamond Charm to charm the employee she runs into which fails. And then she does a pretty good tag-team lie with Katja about how they NEED to pass a class but that doesn’t fly. Then Ostentatia tries flirting which ALSO doesn’t work. Zelda at this point steps in and just headbuts the dude so they can book it away. I personally would have gone with, “Do you know who we are? We killed the dragon that’s your current main exhibit,” but you know. No backseat adventuring. 

While this is happening, Penny is stealthing like a pro, looking for anything Arcana related. Ostentatia and Katja also did checks (O getting a nat 20) and we’ll go through all their info gathered now. 

Katja basically gets info on TK we kind of already knew. She was a benefactor of the museum. She’s centuries old like Aguefort. She was concerned with consciousness and divinity and specifically how will and divine will manifested, as well as elemental magic.  

Ostentatia gets a lot of info with her Nat 20. She gets a full map to the temple where TK went which is called the Temple of Earth Defiant. The point of the temple is that it’s up in the open air and harsh winds--wind being a symbol of chaos and unpredictability to dwarves--but they still use it as a place to honor their heroes and they rebuild and upkeep it despite the erosion and how hard it is to get there. It’s hallowed from evil and lots of stories about it involve heroes racing there for sanctuary. It was made by dwarves but it’s a pilgrimage site for other primordial beings like goliaths and earth genasi (which is what TK is). There are 3 heroes who have big statues here: Asha Hammerheart (a SUPER dope name I must say), Yvonna of the Sundering Hills , and Kora Ironbrow.

Penny finds that, amongst Kalvaxus’s hoard there were 7 unrecovered artifacts--the Mirrors of the Eidolons (which are the smashed mirrors they found it seems). Eidelons are kind of like the elemental plane version of angels/celestials. They’re primordial (remember Katja saw primordial language on the wall of the dragon cave) and kind of aligned with things like titans and genies. Raw element with no agenda (unlike celestials and demons and such which have a clear alignment which makes up the D&D religious system). It is said by wizards--who look at these things in more of a nuts and bolts way than say clerics who take the fuzzier religions view--that Eidolons are the hands of the gods because gods are beings of spirit--how could they form the physical world. Will of the divine manifested by elemental beings? Sounds right up TK’s alley.

Sam decides she’s desperate enough for information that she calls her mom who she is understandably snippy with. Her mom gives her a contact to talk to when she asks about TK but Sam stonewalls her on show business talk. She tries to play the “mother knows best, you’ll thank me later,” in a kind of Gothel-y way while acting like anything in the past never happened and says Sam is attacking her but when Sam accuses her of neglect, she proves her right by hanging up the phone.

Sam then calls the number and it turns out to be Lola Embers (Fig’s agent) who has been waiting for Sam’s call for ages and wants to talk to her, even though she’s currently chasing her dog across the park. She says she met TK once at a genasi woman networking thing and also says she once saw Charity get into an argument with TK over government funding or not getting a grant or something similar. She then says she’s in a lake trying to get her dog and Sam, being a water genasi who can breathe underwater and also a fundamentally good person even though she’s currently being aggro as hell, goes to the park to help her. Lola assures her that if she’s ready, she’ll help her get new acting gigs and that the world is ready for the new her. 

Yelle meanwhile casts Speak With Plants on some trees near TK’s office and, after a super stoner to stoner conversation, gets a magical footprint trail of where she ran off to when she absconded 12 years ago. 

Antiope (who is in a sports bra because she destroyed her top with the Aguefort logo since that’s what was pinged, revealing in a wild, nat-1 fueled retcon that she got a tramp stamp reading “Leader” in the Red Waste) goes to see Charity to fill out some paperwork, ingratiate herself, and perhaps get some info. Charity has her hot, young, assistant (who Antiope is instantly crushing on) give Ant his shirt (and Charity’s lack of surprise at seeing his 4 horses pulling a chariot tattoo makes the group think they’re def banging). She kind of explains what the Ministry does and Antiope boils it down a bit to snitching on other adventurers. Charity says it’s more of a who watches the watchmen situation and visibly twitches when she has to say the word “snitch”. 

When she takes a second to call Antiope’s dad, she accidentally leaves a tab open on her computer which has TK’s file open (probably up from when the Maidens asked about her earlier). Antiope sneaks a peek and learns that the artifact that TK stole is called the Legendarium Extrodia and it tracks quests. It seems that at some point TK must have had top level access to get her hands on it. It also shows that TK was marked for assassination (which seems like a pretty good reason to get the heck out of dodge). Brennan also says she’s learned enough that she can use the L.E. if she finds it. 

At this point, Yelle tells everyone to come back ASAP so they can follow the magic footsteps. Antiope wants to come but doesn’t want to burn bridges with Charity (or chances with Preston--equally important) so she, at Katja’s suggestion--pretends to have diarrhea and is Nat 20 convincing. Interesting choice for the end of the first meeting with a person you’re crushing on. But Preston is actually pretty supportive as she races out the door as fast as possible.

The Seven follow the footsteps out of Solace and it becomes clear that TK was headed to the dwarven temple Ostentatia learned about. This is a multi-day journey so Cinnamon sings a glorious, magical, horse song and summons mounts for everyone which I will now name because this is obviously the most important part of the episode:

Snowfire - Danielle

Taffodill - Sam

Alagonia - Antiope

Candyheart - Penny

Starforge - Ostentatia 

Strawberry Dancer - Zelda 

Crucial info. 

As they travel, Antiope casts Primeval Awareness and gets that there is something ancient in the mountain. They travel through Pilgrim’s Pass (a village area most travelers to the temple pass through) but find it completely razed to the ground. They investigate. 

With an 18 Survival check, Antiope finds tracks that seem halfway between dog and cat. There are more than 4 legs and it’s hard to tell how old they are because there’s not a lot of rain in the area. They could have been left long ago and been undisturbed. Regardless, these are clearly from monstrosities. On a 26 History Check, Katja knows that this area used to be protected by Blink Dogs (teleporting dogs) but they seem to be all gone now. On a 22 Nature check, Yelle sees a weird feather made out of plant material. It seems like fae stuff but bad vibes. On an 18 Insight check, Sam knows this was a purposeful slaughter.

And on Penny’s 30 Arcana check, oh boy. Penny finds broken common scrawled on the wall in human blood talking about a queen of the mountain who rules the skies. That only the queen may see and none may see themselves. And that the people were told to destroy the seeing glass and did not obey. In from of that message is a bear hide covering something magic. Penny lifts it with reckless abandon and sees tons of mirror shards.

Friendship bracelets! She thinks.

Gotcha bitch, the thing in the mirror says.

Uh-oh.   

Penny calls over her friends to let them knows she may have made a tiny mistake. The group is pretty split between, “Understandable,” and “Girl, WHAT?” In her defense, she did try to cast Friends on the person on the other side of the mirror shards but that’s not enough to stop an entire pack of 50-60 Displacer Beast (magic tentacle cats)/Blink Dog hybrid monstrosities along with the Harpy Queen (voice from the mirror) and her plant feathered harpy minions to start rapidly making their way to their location. 

It is at this point that Ostentatia remembers that abominations and monstrosities cannot step into the temple which means it’s time to RUN. 

And NOW it’s combat time. 

The premise of this fight is that the girls are on their horses, moving towards the center of the temple as fast as they can while fending off the closest enemies. I won’t give an exact play by play but the two highlights are as follows:

Yelle conjures up a bunch of geese with raptor stats (...so normal geese) to swarm the head cat/dog abomination and has to do a truly stunning amount of math for which she is rewarded with SEVENTY POINTS OF DAMAGE. 

Antiope does some insane arrow trickery and gets the Queen Harpy in the wing (which Ostentatia helpfully gets on video so she can show Preston later) and then forces her to take damage as she falls. If not for an extremely lucky Box of Doom nat 20, she may have been down for the count. Antiope still comes away with more than FIFTY points of damage on her though. 

And we end the episode mid-combat! We will catch up on our girls next time!

Superlatives 

Penny: Most Likely to Make Friends During a Hostage Situation 

As a companion to Danielle’s superlative last episode, Penny gets this award for reading or misreading every situation as an opportunity to make friends or make friendship bracelets for the ones she already has. 

Random Thoughts

Did you guys notice that with Katja having Cinnamon and Charity’s assistant being Preston, that’s two of the main pet NPCs from A Crown of Candy?

Antiope’s Reaction to Yelle Saying That Maybe Things Ending Isn’t So Bad: Rail against the dying of the light! Why are you OK with this?

Penny’s Reaction to Yelle Saying That Maybe Things Ending Isn’t So Bad: Entropy is TERRIBLE! Everything needs order!

The greasy cashier’s response to Ostentatia’s flirty, “Come here often?” is “To my job? Honestly no.” Brennan? Chef’s kiss. 

My other fave line this episode is from Sam. “I believe Cinnamon fucks.”

It’s very cute that Penny is like, “I gotta text Riz about this Eidelon stuff!” Not because she wants help. Just so they can geek out together. 

The joke that Brennan didn’t think about the birds is so funny considering all the bird facts in Misfits.

Also re Birds attacking: “They made a movie about this Brennan!” 

Good on Ant for refusing an Aguefort sweatshirt from Charity when offered after the little scrying incident before. Remembering things like this saves lives. 

It has been brought up several times that Ending isn’t necessarily Bad just Ancient and Powerful and I trust Yelle’s vibe check but also, like, a forest fire doesn’t have malice behind it but it can still devastate a city while it clears out dead trees that need to be cleared, you know? Not ready to start wild speculation yet but I am curious. And am similarly curious about the sisters Ending has mentioned. Oh and the parallels of 7 Maidens, 7 mirrors. It’s all there, we just need a little more info. 

Honestly, get you a man who will see you rushing out of a building, loudly claiming to have diarrhea, and instead of being grosses out will just supportively confess his own stomach issues. I wish he was just a little younger cause I want that for Ant. 

I do like that D20 has been playing a little more fast and loose with the RP ep/combat ep format. I think it really helps with story flow. 

In this episode Antiope and Brennan as various non-Zelda NPCs rolled 2 Nat 20s. O rolled one. Ant rolled 1 Nat 1--which was on a self imposed roll to see how she responded to Sephie’s tramp stamp improv. And O may have rolled one for initiative also but I wasn’t sure. 

[fallingstarnovel]

Chapter Four

“Holy fuck!” Evan yelped, before running down the stairs and opening the front door. “Dude, you are fast!”

Ruth laughed and scratched the back of his neck. “It seemed like an emergency.”

“You’re not wrong,” Evan grumbled, before quickly ushering him inside. “I was going to apologise for the mess but I guess you’ve seen everything already.”

Ruth, to his credit, managed to look completely non-judgemental as he stepped over a pile of shoes and pizza leaflets. He waited patiently for Evan to close the door behind him before speaking.

"May I see it?"

Evan hummed and hawed for a moment, before sighing. May as well get this over with. He turned around and lifted up the back of his hoodie so that the tattoo was poking out over the waistband.

There was an intake of breath behind him. He felt a warm hand nudge his hoodie a little further up his back, being careful not to actually touch his skin.

"How bad is it," Evan said, full of dread. "Can you read what it says?"

Ruth hummed under his breath. When he spoke, he sounded like he was trying to be very careful. "Would you believe me if I said that someone put a curse mark on you?"

Evan laughed out loud, and looked at Ruth. The laughter died at the dark look in the other boy's eyes.

"Oh. You're serious."

Ruth nodded. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, curses are..." Evan began, before stopping himself. There was no polite way to say "curses aren't real". "They're... Kind of spiritual, right? More based in belief than fact."

The dark look was still there in Ruth's eyes, but he did manage an amused smile. "You're a skeptic."

"I'm a scientist," Evan replied flatly. "Trying to be. Sorry. If you're one of those people who believes in magic and stuff, that's super cool, I'm not going to call it bullshit. But this is probably just a normal tattoo."

"Just a normal tattoo that appeared on your body without you noticing."

"I might have been drunker than I realised," Evan said hotly. "But even if someone was trying to somehow curse me by tattooing me, I'm not bothered about that. Curses are... um. Probably not replicable in lab conditions. I'm more worried about the fact that they managed to somehow jab a needle in me when I wasn't looking and do some of the chunkiest black work I have ever seen. So what does it say?"

Ruth's gaze skittered away. His pleasant smile was like glass. "I don't know."

"Damn it. You're sure?"

"..."

"So how do you know it's a curse?"

Ruth swallowed. He hesitated, before holding out a hand. "May I touch it?"

Evan said "yes" without really thinking about it. He realized his mistake as soon as he felt two warm palms come into contact with the small of his back, brushing along his skin.

Oh no. This was really nice. It had been quite a long time since he had been touched by someone. With a nervous laugh, he jumped away in shock at the electric feeling that rushed through him.

"Cold hands," he lied.

"Oh. Sorry."

That was his second mistake. There was the sound of Ruth blowing on his own fingers and rubbing them together to warm them up, and then the hands were back, except now they were hot and unignorable.

Idiot. Idiot fool stupid ass. He just invited this random guy over to his house and said "oh sure touch my back in a totally normal kind of way" and now he's making it weird, and poor Ruth was probably standing there like, what's this weirdo doing blushing like some kind of idiot because I'm touching his freaky new tattoo? His weird drunken tramp stamp? Just copping a feel of this guy's lower back like a spectacularly PG version of a freaky train groper?

God, he wished he could get his brain to shut up when he was nervous.

"... It doesn't feel like a tattoo," Ruth said after a moment. "It feels like a curse."

"A curse to do what?"

"It's a bad luck curse," Ruth said. His voice was strange. "Luck so bad it'll force you to..."

Evan stared at him over his shoulder. "To what."

"..."

"To what."

"But it is only triggered when, under certain conditions..." Ruth began before trailing off. "The conditions will not be met. There is nothing to worry about."

His smile was very reassuring. One of his dimples popped. It was incredibly sweet.

"You're sure?"

"I'm certain."

Evan tore his eyes away and sat down heavily on the couch, putting his head in his hands. "So some kind of spiritual nutjob has put a weird mark on my ass. Wonderful. That's really great."

"I'll fix this."

Evan looked up at Ruth in surprise, before shaking his head. "You can't just remove tattoos so easily. It's going to cost so much money to remove, and it might not even work. And it's going to hurt."

He sensed Ruth coming closer, close like he might reach out and touch. But he didn't. He was silent.

"... You think it was someone at the party."

"Yeah. Maybe. I don't think I had it before then, and I don't know when else I would have been drunk enough not to notice it happening."

"A curse mark can be placed with just a touch–"

"Dude," Evan groaned, throwing his head back, "it's not a curse mark, it's just a pain in the ass. It's a tattoo. And I have to deal with it. I wish I–" he groaned, and buried his head in his hands again. "This always happens. I shouldn't go to parties."

Thick silence again.

Ruth’s voice was gentle. His hand landed on Evan’s shoulder. "You didn't ask for this."

"But what if I did?" Evan said. "It's the not knowing that’s the worst. What if I did want this? But why would I... I never would, but who knows? Who knows?" He stood up suddenly. "That's why I have to find someone who was there and ask them."

“I can help you do that.”

“... you can? How?"

"I think I might know a couple of people who were there," Ruth answered. "I can ask them."

Evan stood up and grabbed Ruth's shoulders. "Please! Can you come with me to meet them?"

His expression turned sour. "I would prefer you didn't. They are... they're not good company."

"I don't care. I need to ask them. Please."

A long tense silence, and then:

"Alright. I will ask around."

Evan sighed and collapsed back on the sofa. "Thank you. Really."

"There's no need. Anything you want, I'll do."

He gave Ruth a weird look, tilting his head in curiosity. "Are you this charitable with everyone? You've been so nice to me."

Ruth's smile returned with a vengeance. Cheerful sunshine was practically flowing from every orifice. He said, rather carefully, "not with everyone, no. But you could say that it's something that sustains me. Being helpful, I mean."

"Huh. You enjoy being a good Samaritan, then."

Ruth nodded. In between talking about the curse nonsense, and the desire to help people, and the way he was a little – hm, intense, Evan wondered if he hadn't accidentally made friends with a very motivated missionary. Weren't Christians supposed to love thy neighbour?

Oh no, was Evan being indoctrinated into a fundamentalist cult? Was that why Ruth was being so nice?

"... Are you religious, Ruth?"

He hummed, seeming to think about the question. "That... is complicated. I guess so. But maybe it's more accurate to say that I... that I do my own thing. Are you?"

That did not rule out the cult side of things. Evan nodded, hiding his suspicions deep where they couldn't possibly offend this potential fundie.

"I do my own thing too," he said, deciding to be cautious just in case. "I just try to be nice and hope for the best."

"A good philosophy to have," Ruth said with a laugh. "Keep it. Well, I should probably go and track down the people at the party. If you want anything, you can call me whenever you like."

Hm. Way, way too nice. "I will," Evan lied, before guiding Ruth back to the front door. "Thanks again."

"It's nothing at all," were Ruth's last words before he left, bundling out onto the street and walking away.

Evan watched him go. Watched that bundle of curly blonde hair and a warm blue scarf grow smaller and smaller until it turned a corner and once again disappeared.

A few days later, Evan was waiting outside of his lecture hall, when someone suddenly stopped beside him. He squinted at them, finding their face oddly familiar. That long brown curly hair, the wide set of their shoulders...

Wait a minute, this was the person from the party who kept giving him shots! Sand! No - Ice?

“Rock,” said Rock, looking exceptionally nervous. Their eyes kept darting to the side. “From the party.”

“No, yeah, I remember,” Evan mumbled, feeling a little dazed. What the hell. They just suddenly turned up with no warning. “What’s... up?”

“You said you had questions,” Rock said quietly. They seemed completely different now from that night. Whereas before, they were loud and bouncy, projecting their voice across the music, now they seemed to be holding their arms close to their body as if trying to look smaller.

It was weird.

“Um. Yeah. Hey, let’s just...”

Evan stepped aside from the other students who were waiting outside the lecture, and Rock followed, until they were both in a slightly more private spot.

“Are you good?” Evan asked, because Rock looked very sweaty.

They nodded quickly. “I’m good. I’m chill. Look, whatever you wanna ask, please go ahead.”

Evan thought about it. This was his chance. He needed to make sure he didn’t mess it up.

“So... did I do anything weird?”

Rock stared at him in disbelief. After a moment, their gaze once again skittered around the place. “No. Not really.”

Okay. Good. He would just have to try and believe that. “Sweet. Okay. Christ, um. Did anyone at the party have a tattoo gun?”

Rock swallowed and shook their head. “No.”

Shit. “Are you lying to me?”

Rock’s eyes widened, and their back stiffened. “No. No, I swear. Nobody had a tattoo gun.”

“Were you upstairs with me when we were... playing a game?”

“I was.”

Nice! A witness!

“Did I kiss someone?”

Rock nodded.

“Who?”

“Ophelia,” Rock said hesitantly. “She kissed you.”

Ophelia... “Was she, by any chance, the girl with the black hair and the platform boots?”

“That’s her.”

Wow. Hot Goth Girl kissed him. Evan thought he would feel excited about that, but instead he just felt a little nauseous. He was so drunk. How could that have been enjoyable? Surely he was way too much of a mess for her to get anything out of it...

“Rock, can I have your number? I might have more questions if that’s okay.”

Rock suddenly looked a little panicked. “You’re not satisfied?”

“What? Uh, I guess? Look, you don’t have to, I just--”

“No, you can, you can,” Rock said, hurriedly pulling some paper and a pen out of their pocket and wrote down a number. “Here. And... please, look, tell him that I’ll do anything you want, okay? I’ll cooperate, I’ll behave!”

Evan stared at them. “Tell who?”

But Rock was already running away, visibly sweating.

Huh. Weird.

Evan kept throwing glances behind him as he finally trailed into his next lecture. He found it difficult to concentrate on the class.

Bad luck followed Evan around that week like a bad smell.

He dropped his phone while he was walking, and the whole screen shattered so bad that he could barely see what he was typing anymore.

Whenever he went walking, he ended up stepping in dog muck. He didn't even know there were this many dogs in the city. How come all the owners had suddenly decided to be lazy bastards who didn't clean up after their mess?

If he forgot his umbrella, it rained, and if he brought it, he lost it. And then it rained anyway.

But all of this wasn't so bad when he thought about it. At least he still had his health, and his lectures were still taking place, and anyway. He wasn't doing as much walking now that exam season was underway.

It was today. Exam day. One of the big ones. He had small exams all week leading up to this one, but this was the one he was most worried about.

Evan still wasn’t sure he believed in the concept of luck, but he figured that now was as good a time to start believing as any. He pulled out his favourite pair of socks from the drawer and decided that they were lucky. As he walked to the exam hall, he made sure not to step on any cracks.

He wasn’t sure that cracks would affect his exam score. Weren’t they supposed to break your mother’s back if you stood on them?

He didn’t take any chances. If he wanted to pass this exam, he couldn’t risk getting called out halfway through because of any back related medical emergencies.

He also avoided walking under any ladders, or seeing any magpies, or opening any umbrellas indoors. If avoiding bad luck was a game, he had the high score.

Evan was just across the road from the exam hall when he saw that strange flash of black in the corner of his vision. He turned on instinct to see the black cat he often saw around campus sitting on the pavement a little bit ahead of him.

The cat looked up and made direct eye contact. Evan stared. He stared so hard that he didn’t notice where he was putting his foot until it was too late.

There was a groan and the sound of old metal creaking, and Evan found himself stuck up to the knee in the rusty grating of a road gutter. He tried to pull himself out, but he was well and truly stuck.

Something honked. Evan looked up to see a truck racing towards him. It was okay - the truck was far enough away that it could brake long before it reached Evan. He hoped. He tried yanking his leg out of the gutter again, but it felt like something was holding onto his foot.

Lazily, he felt the swish of something soft against his hand. The cat jumped past him, before racing up the road towards the truck. It ran out into the road.

The drive had presumably already been stressed out by the sight of a kid stuck in the road. He was already honking his horn and slamming his foot on the brakes, making an awful screeching noise. The cat must have exacerbated the situation, because all of a sudden, the cab of the truck veered sideways as if the driver had just pulled a sharp right.

In horror, Evan could only watch as the side of the truck began to tilt. It leaned, and leaned, tires squealing, black smoke pouring from where they scraped along the tarmac. Cars beeped, people screamed, but nobody was close enough to help.

Evan was going to die here, he realised. The truck was rolling over, and it was going to squash him flat. He would die right before his exam and fail it. Why couldn’t this happen afterwards? Didn’t he study hard? Didn’t he spend all night revising his notes and memorising formulas?

All that hard work, wasted! If he knew he was going to die today, he would have spent last night doing something fun instead!

The sun suddenly broke through the clouds. Sunlight bounced off the wet tarmac and the muddy puddles at the edge of the road. Evan couldn’t even think. All he could do was watch.

A strong hand suddenly gripped his underarm and pulled. There was a horrible lurch as his leg was pulled free from the grate, his jeans getting shredded and a terrible pain running down his calf, and then Evan was being lifted up and out of the grate into someone’s chest.

A sudden flurry of movement, and Evan was out of the road. A mere second later, the side of the lorry slammed down on where he had been stuck. Someone screamed far away.

If he was still there, he would have been flattened into a pancake.

Someone laid him down on the pavement, gentle and kind. Evan looked up, dazed and dizzy with adrenaline, everything seeming too sharp and too clear. Above him, looking down with a sweet smile, was a boy with curly blonde hair. The sunlight hit him from behind and made his hair glow gold at the edges, his face cast into shadow.

Evan swore he saw two huge white wings spread out from the youth’s back, one tall and strong, the other held slightly lower as if it was injured.

“Ruth,” he gasped. “Ruth, you're...”

“Don't talk,” Ruth replied gently. “Just rest. I have you.”

“Hey... hey, kid! Are you alright?”

Someone was running towards him, one of the bystanders who had seen the accident. Evan closed his eyes for a second. The pain in his leg was unbearable. At least he wasn’t flat.

When he opened his eyes again, Ruth had disappeared. A random woman was hovering over him, asking him questions and sounding panicked, but he could barely pay attention at all.

Was that... real?

Author's note:

if you've managed to read this far, it's lovely to have you on board! i've had internet issues so i had to post this later than i wanted to :( but now it's here!

thank you and enjoy, see you soon :)

Previous Chapter | Contents | Next Chapter

[mesmeret]

KPW 2.0 Day 2: Cat Daddy Hux and Juggalo Kylo

Day 2: Opposites Attract! "Boring" Cat Daddy Hux has a crush on his Juggalo neighbor Kylo. Kylo also has a crush on him. Cussing and lemons

Hux’s heart flipped hearing the loud engine of his crush coming up the block. He had no shame being picked up by his neighbor in front of his office building. Strangers and coworkers turn towards the blasting “Funyuns and Condoms”. The brakes screech and the passenger door unlocks. Hux bites his lip so his grin masks as a smirk while he gets into the decade old white Ford F-150 with peeling black and red flame decals.

He buckles in before looking over at Kylo, “Hey.”

“How’s the overlords?” Kylo is glaring at traffic with a pale white base with black lightning bolts painted all over his face. Hux’s stomach flips at how a few go down Kylo’s neck and get muddled with his neck tattoos. Kylo’s lips are bright red with black lip liner.

Hux knows to talk over Kylo’s cussing and singing along with his CDs, “Fucking awful. Brooks stole my work again. The cronies didn’t bat an eye seeing my watermarks. Thanks for that idea, by the way. Fuck, I am quitting next week. Not giving them any opportunity to fire me.”

“Fuck yeah!” Kylo honked his horn and grinned as the cars around them honked back. “They don’t deserve you!”

Hux felt his face heat up. This was one of the reasons he fell hard for Kylo. The man made him feel valuable.

“So what’s next for m-Mister Hot Shot?” Kylo stuttered as they pulled onto the highway.

“I don’t know. Maybe take a week off before looking for jobs?” Hux shrugged.

“Yeah? Cool,” Kylo gets into the fast lane and looks over at Hux. His voice low, “Gonna let your hair down and go wild?”

Hux managed not to gasp, instead he made a choked off nervous laugh, “Me? I was thinking of checking out the summer art exhibits before they go away.”

Kylo pounds his steering wheel, “Dude! You’re killing me! You can do that any time!”

“No, the exhibits are leaving at the end of July,” Hux feigns sulking to get more of a rise out of Kylo.

“M-Sorry, you fucker!” Kylo caught himself from saying Hux’s second least favorite curse word. “I’m worried about you. Those soul suckers have got you whipped. You should, like, I dunno… spend time with me and the guys that week!”

Hux’s toes would curl in his italian loafers if the narrow shoes would let them. He sighed, “Fine. I guess you’re right.”

“I’m always right!” Kylo puffed up his chest and belted out the lyrics for the next song on the Bang! Pow! Boom! Album. Hux at least remembered the album name. Kylo also surprised him last week remembering the company names of Hux’s favorite porcelain cat figurines. He stared out at the passing traffic. Maybe he could do something to get Kylo to call him Cat Daddy again? Millie hated the ribbons but if he could bribe her…

A few minutes of traffic later, they pull off the highway and quickly get into their neighborhood. Kylo looks over at him a couple of times before speaking, “Hey, would you like to rehearse your resignation?”

Hux sat up in his seat, “Huh? Yeah, that would help. When did you have in mind?”

Kylo stuttered, “I-uh, got some things to do but I can swing by in, uh, an hour?”

Hux nodded, “Sure. I’ll get Millie settled in with her din-din.”

“Cool!” Kylo yelled and went silent with wide eyes. Hux frowned a little but got distracted with Kylo’s arm bracing the back of his seat as Kylo pulled the truck into reverse to parallel park. Hux knew the tattoos were crude and chunky. But their canvas gave them far more allure. Hux didn’t have time to give into the temptation of nuzzling Kylo’s biceps because the man was an impressive parker.

They parted ways and Kylo stomped up to his apartment in his oversized jeans and baggy t-shirt. The clothes made him look absurdly giant. Hux loved it. Once he got into his apartment, he went straight to the kitchen to prepare Millicent’s meal as she mrrp’d her way around his feet. He hummed along with her as he mashed up some wet food with her kibble. He set the bowl down and gave Millicent her privacy as he headed into his bedroom. He took off  his dress shirt and slacks. He stared at his closet drawing a blank. What would Kylo like him in? Kylo hardly comments on his clothes. Hux sighed grabbing a white t-shirt and gray lounge pants. Why was he so boring? He flushed at the thought of getting Kylo to give him a makeover. He’d look absolutely ridiculous but Kylo would have his hands all over him.

Hux went into the living room and tidied up the little messes from the past few days. Millicent watched him from her cat tree with her tail swaying to and fro. He came over to kiss the top of her head. She scrunched her eyes and shook her head. He snorted, “I know, so embarrassing. But you’re so cute!”

She squinted at him as he scritched behind her ear. Long orange hairs started to shed. He looked at his watch and decided he could start brushing her coat before Kylo came over. He scooped up Millicent and she gave a chirp seeing him grab the brush kit. He was blessed having a cat who enjoyed grooming. He got most of her back done when there was a knock on the door. Millicent darted to the cat tree as Hux dumped the cat hair in the kitchen trash. He answered the door and was startled to see an unsettling version of Kylo.

Kylo looked normal. He was without his makeup in a black polo and khakis. His hair was tied in a bun. Hux felt sad seeing Kylo’s septum piercing flipped up and hidden. Kylo’s skin was splotchy and textured due to his Kryolan paint stick routine. Hux felt oddly reassured that Kylo wasn’t too perfect. Hux has seen him shirtless with his face painted up and spent many a night stroking to the visuals.

“I-um, thought we could role play?” Kylo shrugged.

Hux blushed realizing he had just stood there staring, “Oh! Wow, you really didn’t need to change. I liked the lightning today. A lot.”

Kylo muttered under his breath, “Fucking dumbass.”

Hux froze, “Excuse me?”

Kylo looked more shocked than Hux felt, “Me! I meant me! I’m the fucking dumbass!”

Hux shook his head, “No you aren’t, come on in.”

Kylo frowned but followed Hux to the couch. Hux’s heart fluttered as Kylo sat next to him, “What’s going on, Kylo?”

Kylo looked at him with a shy glance before looking ahead, “I thought you’d like me more like this? I thought if we roleplayed you quitting your job, we’d-” Kylo takes a deep sigh, “I thought we’d then like makeout or something ‘cuz the past couple of months have been crazy, y’know?”

Hux gulped and tentatively placed his hand over Kylo’s white knuckled fist, “I think you’re hot. But as you usually dress and stuff. This is very different but I see my Kylo. Though...”

Kylo goes cross eyed as Hux flips his septum piercing and bursts into deep laughter, “What the fuck! You’re freaky, Hux!”

Hux blushed, “I guess? Do you like it?”

Kylo’s voice cracked before going bone deep, “Uh, yeah. It’s really fucking hot… babe.”

Hux whined as his body went numb with arousal, “Could we… do something else than role play quitting my job?”

Kylo moaned, “Like what?”

Hux got up to straddle Kylo’s lap. Kylo’s eyes widened and his hands hovered before gripping Hux’s hips. Hux whispers while tugging on Kylo’s polo shirt, “Wanna see your chest again.”

Kylo gave a little nod and pulled off the polo. Hux moaned at the sight of the loosened bun, defined muscles, and garish tattoos. His fingers traced thick lines that trembled. Kylo whined and bucked up. Hux gasped as he slid further into Kylo’s lap and had to brace himself against Kylo’s chest. Kylo grunted, “Permission to kiss?”

Hux gave a nod before kissing Kylo. He sighed at how nice Kylo’s lip and tongue piercings felt. He gave a tentative roll of his hips and Kylo seized with a yelp. Hux hummed in delight feeling the pulse of Kylo’s dick against his. Kylo pulled away from the kiss with a dazed look, “Fuck, I didn’t bring condoms.”

Hux bit his lip, “I’m good with not rushing things. I really do like you. And, ah, would like to fuck when you’re all done up.”

Hux now knows that when Kylo’s eyes widen slightly, his cheeks go bright red. This revelation makes Hux kiss Kylo deeply. Kylo gives a confused sound but goes with the kiss. Hux pulls away when he finally needs air. After catching his breath, he whispers, “I can’t believe you like me.”

Kylo scoffs, “I can’t believe you like me. You of all people.”

Hux whines, “Hush, of course I like you. You’re like my best friend and crush.”

Kylo whimpers squeezing Hux’s ass, “I’m your what?”

“My crush-Ah!” Hux arches his back as Kylo rips his lounge pants. Hux shivers as fingers press through the tear to bare skin. “Nngh! Fuck, tear them more.”

Kylo does so looking up at Hux with a growl. Hux grunts as his cock drops down from the torn confines onto Kylo’s palm. It’s an awkward hand job but feels great. Hux’s mind whites out as Kylo leans up to suck on his neck. The other hand reaches over to press two fingers against Hux’s ass. Hux screeches as the fingers rub frantically with the fist around his cock. He goes limp as his cock twitches.

Kylo mouths his neck lightly before flipping them over. Hux whines as Kylo pulls away to take off his cum stained khakis. Kylo also didn’t bother with underwear and strokes himself while looking down at Hux. Hux studies Kylo’s cock and is a little bummed there’s no piercings visible. Kylo straddles him and moans as his cock head bumps against Hux’s small paunch. Hux blushes deeply once he realizes Kylo is writing his name on Hux’s belly. Hux whispers, “I’d get it tattooed there. Or a tramp stamp.”

Kylo’s eyes bulge and his breathing goes haggard, “Fuck, really?”

Hux bit his lip nodding. Kylo grunted as he came all over Hux’s belly. Hux kissed him softly, “Seriously. Maybe you could help me with the aftercare?”

Kylo snorted and shook his head, “Nah, that’s like ten year anniversary shit.”

“Oh, I guess you’ll just have to cum your name on me until then,” Hux feigned disappointment. “Maybe get me a collar or belt?”

Kylo chuckled, “Fucking freak.”  

Hux smirked, “You have no idea.”

[divineluce]

Tickled Ink || Darwin & Luce

Timing: May 6th, 2020

Location: Ink, Inc.

Tagging: @wardinasrani

Notes: Darwin comes in to get an old tattoo touched up and Luce is happy to provide. Not a single heterosexual character was involved in the making of this chatzy.

Tapping her stylus against the edge of the desk, Luce stared at the design on her computer for a long time. It was as good as it was going to get, honestly. The design wasn’t one of her favorites, but the girl who had requested it was very insistent on it. She wanted a half realistic, half geometric butterfly with geometric pieces kinda flying off the geometric side. Had Luce argued with her that it would make an awful piece? No, of course not. She liked getting paid. But, it was going to be a fucking awful time. Booting up her printer, she set the stencil to start printing and wandered out of her room to the lobby. Rory was walking a client through paperwork, but she waved at him all the same. “Your 3 o clock, the butterfly girl? Yeah, she had to reschedule.” The receptionist said. Rolling her eyes, Luce sighed. “Figures. I’ve still got that booking at 6 though, right?” She said before confirming that her evening was booked up. Ugh. She’d put all that fucking work in just to have the girl flake on her. Better for her to get cold feet about it now than when she was getting it zapped away with a laser, though. As Luce scrutinized the schedule, the bell to the shop jangled loudly and she waved offhandedly.

Getting lost had become part of Darwin's daily routine by now. Inevitable when he was still so new to the town, but a hassle nonetheless. On the bright side, it often lead him to discover small little gems, and this time his wandering had led him to stand in front of a small tattoo parlor. “Ink Inc., mh? Catchy, if a bit uninspired.” Yet the place looked clean enough. Darwin lifted his shirt, just enough to glimpse at the faded tattoo on his hip. How long had it been since he'd gotten that protective symbol? Ten years? Twelve? Time, and one too many scuffles with stubborn demons who just wouldn't go back to their own dimension had taken their toll on the ward, to the point where now it had probably lost all its protective properties. Darwin looked at the parlor. “Guess it's time for a little update,” he mumbled to himself before opening the door and just strolling into the parlor as if he owned the place. Without sparing a glance to the woman in the lobby, his eyes drifted immediately to the drawings hanging on the wall. A good protective tattoo needed to be perfect to be effective, so Darwin took his sweet time studying the sketches and pictures. Good lines, a firm hand. Definitely professionals. Nodding to himself with satisfaction he finally turned to the woman, studying her with the same attention he'd given to the works on the wall. Lots of ink on her skin, too, which meant she knew her way around tattoos. His mind made up, Darwin waved at her with a dramatic flourish. “Greetings! I'm here for my appointment.” He had no appointment, of course, but someone probably did, and Darwin was willing to bet their design wasn't nearly as essential as updating his own protective ward.

Luce was no stranger to people coming in and straight up ignoring her-- usually it was because they were too nervous, sometimes it was because they were on their phone, which was hilarious and stupid. But this dude waltzed in like he owned the place, staring at the different art displays around the main lobby. Leaning against the reception desk, she watched as his eyes focused on a couple of her own designs. And when his gaze turned to her, Luce folded her arms across her chest, her sleeve tattoos on prominent display. She met his eyes with an unyielding, unimpressed stare of her own. If this was meant to be some kind of sizing her up thing, she’d been through this before. So many shitty big ass biker dudes had thought that she was some kind of hack, that she couldn’t handle being a tattoo artist. But, they changed their mind real quick once they were in the chair. At his words, Luce lifted an eyebrow. “Mhm, three o clock right? I’ve got your design all drawn up. You wanted the butterfly on the lower back, right, Julia?” She said, her lips curling into a grin.

“Yes, three o'clock, quite right, sorry I'm a little late. Glad you can accommodate my-” Luckily for once in his life Darwin actually managed to listen to what someone else said and he stopped himself in time. He couldn't help but frown a little. He could understand the Julia, many people had described him as flamboyant and Darwin himself had used worse fake names than that, but... “I like to think that if I ever were to get a tramp stamp I'd be able to come up with something more original than a butterfly. Maybe a Barghe-- A wolf skull, with flames coming from its eye sockets and an elaborate rose growing from its mouth.” Sarcasm and indignation wrestled on his face for a second, and then he settled for a short sigh as he took out his phone and glanced at it. “Well, it's already 3.15... I'm guessing Julia stood you up. Care for a replacement?”

“Oh, but it’s a very pretty butterfly. With shards of glass everywhere. Very cute. Sure to bring all the boys to the yard.” Luce said, her grin growing at the man balking at the idea. “Oh, yeah, something as original as a flaming wolf skull and a rose?” She said and tilted her head to one of the art pieces on the wall behind her-- the rose wasn’t growing from the wolf’s mouth, but the wolf skull had fiery eye sockets and was surrounded by roses. She’d done it for Ulf shortly after he’d told her about his wolfy heritage, just to keep it around. “Mhm, fair point. You got a name, not Julia? I’m Luce.” She said, holding out a hand for him. She liked the opportunity to work with someone who could be taken down a peg. Or, at the very least, someone who she could have an amusing back and forth with. Having a chatty client made it more fun when she stabbed them full of needles and ink.

Darwin glanced at the piece and let out a long sigh, burying his face in his hand. “Alas, there goes my new tattoo. Can't have something so similar to another one, imagine the embarrassment if we ever attended the same cocktail party.” After what he deemed an adequate dramatic pause he grabbed Luce's hand and bent down in what looked like a kiss to the hand. His lips never touched the woman's skin, but the smile he flashed up at her oozed charm. Or at least, that's what he liked to think. “Darwin Asrani, it's a pleasure.” He gently let go of Luce, but his eyes lingered once more on her art. “I like your style, and I'd hate to walk out without taking a little bit of your talent with me. Since my first idea was already taken could I bother you for some touch-ups instead? And perhaps we could schedule something new and original for my next visit. I'm thinking a well-dressed dinosaur drinking the blood of his enemies from a fancy teacup. That way people will know that I'm majestic, refined and dangerous.”

“Oh, no. I’m sure it’d send everyone into a panic to be seen with the same tramp stamp. Whatever will people at the country club think?” Luce said with an exaggerated fanning motion, as though she was some kind of fainting Southern belle. When he reached out to grab her hand, she stared at him, both amused and very much ready to knee this man in the face. But, he never kissed her hand-- which, good fucking thing. Anita, kissing her hand? Totally fun and gay and great. This rando? Sexual harassment. As he looked up at her, Luce pulled her hand away and shook her head. “Luce, can’t say the same.” She said, but her tone was joking. This guy was batshit, but in the fun kind of way. She could fuck with that, no hetero. As he continued to spout out bullshit, Luce couldn’t help but laugh. “Sounds like you’ve got a real winner of an idea there. But why not up the ante and make him drinking straight up poison out of the cup? You know, to show that you can’t be fucked with. Go big or go home, you know?” 

“Can't say the same yet,” Darwin corrected her with a confident smirk. “I'm sure you'll find plenty of pleasure in stinging me over and over while I'm on that torture chair of yours.” Truth be told, he appreciated the woman's quick wit: it would be a great distraction. Darwin was no stranger to pain, but he wasn't too keen on it either, and he wouldn't be able to face himself if he started to whimper like a whiny puppy once she had her tools out. Good conversation would help with that, maybe he'd be able to leave the parlor with his dignity, as well as with a retouched tattoo. Darwin stroked his chin, pretending to be deep in thought. “Poison it is, but it'll have to drink it from a bendy straw. Otherwise all the boys will be too intimidated to really come to my yard, and that would be a tragedy.” He nodded solemnly, and quickly added “But that seems like the sort of design that would require a couple of drafts at least, we can't rush art. So for today I think I'll just have you work on what I already have, if that's alright?”

“Someone thinks highly of himself. But, you’ve got a point there. Not as sharp as mine, but a point all the same.” Luce said, matching his smile with one of her own, with a wink thrown in for good measure. “Oh, in that case, we should change it to a milkshake glass. Just to really make sure the boys aren’t confused.” When the conversation turned to the real reason he walked into the shop, she leaned against the wood of the desk and scrutinized him, trying to see if the art in question was anywhere visible. But, it didn’t seem like it was the case. With a nod, she drummed her hands on the counter top. “What sorta shit are you looking to get done? Cover up, touch up, extension of your piece? I can roll with anything, just know my next appointment is in a couple of hours. So if it goes long, we’ll have to schedule a second session.” She warned, knowing that some people didn’t like the idea of having to come in twice to get work done. But, that was the price of a walk-in. 

“Cherry milkshake, then. It'll look like blood. Plus, it's my favorite.” Darwin said that last part as if he was sharing some deep personal secret. Which wasn't that far off from the truth, only Bertrand and a couple more were aware of his sweet tooth. Then his whole posture changed, and the hint of a playful grin on his face made way to a serious expression. “I need it to be perfect. Two, three, take seven whole weeks if you need to, but it has to be flawless. Matter of life or death.” Namely, his own life or death: relying on a defective protective tattoo had cost more than a couple hours of time to members of his family that were too careless to care. Quickly he lifted his shirt up, letting Luce look at the tattoo on his hip. The size of a closed fist, it was a protection symbol that'd been passed down his family for generation, each Asrani adding his own personal touch. Sanskrit symbols formed a small circle surrounding some other runes intertwined together. The Sanskrit prayer protected his mind from demonic invasions, the runes made it harder for them to interfere with his own magic during the summoning. It wasn't pretty, but it was effective, and any magic user worth their salt would recognize it was more than just some ice-breaker to use in a bar to pick up guys: while the full scope of the tattoo might be a mystery, it was obvious it had power. Or used to have: the black ink was faded with time, and a small scar that suspiciously looked like a claw mark had touched, albeit barely, the edge of the tattoo, interrupting some of the lines. “Do it well, and you’ll have my official permission to call me Julia till the end of time.”

Normally, if a dude decided to flash her in the shop, Luce would have wasted no time in kicking his ass out the door. And Ulfric had even let her get those brand new swords, just for that purpose. But, when her eyes fell on the intricate design, the symbols written in either Arabic or Sanskrit-- the two were difficult to distinguish between with her untrained eyes-- and the very distinct rune that the letters formed… Luce knew exactly what this was, even if she didn’t know the specifics regarding it. This was a rune of protection and a very well done one at that. Her eyes widened as she took in how intricately and cleanly the line work was executed. The attention to detail was exquisite. “Done. Come on in to my room, we’ll get started right away.” She said, leading the way back to her private room of the shop. Her room looked just the same as ever, neat and organized, the large rolling toolbox that she used to hold her equipment tucked in the corner. The walls were decorated with a few shelves that had a couple candles, a polished citrine crystal, and some of her artwork. A pinboard, refreshed with new stencils filled one wall, the prices written on the edges of each paper. Shutting the door behind her, Luce pushed up the sleeve of her t-shirt, showing him the intricate geometric pattern she had tattooed on her skin, the center of which featured a very specific rune, one of fire and power. “You showed me yours, I’ll show you mine. The line work is incredible-- where’d you get it done?”

Darwin was usually good at keeping his reactions under control. Or rather, he often overreacted, but that was a choice, not a mistake. This time though the flash of surprise hadn't been planned, nor was the deep interest as he studied Luce's tattoo. He even raised his hand, one finger extended to trace the symbol on her arm. Luckily, he managed to stop himself in time. “That is remarkable.” While he wasn't an expert on elemental magic, fire was often a component in his rituals, and as such he knew enough to recognize the rune for what it was: authentic. Darwin wasn't sure of the specific purpose of it, but he knew it was... Some sort of catalyst, perhaps? Either way, that rune meant Luce either was a magic user, or knew someone. “What does it represent, exactly?” After a beat, he realized that answering her question with one of his own would not satisfy her, so Darwin quickly added. “Mine is... You could say it's something of a family tradition, really. The design has been passed down for generations. I added my own personal touch to it, because I firmly believe that, ah... Tattoos should be tailored to oneself. Otherwise they're just scribbling on skin, absolutely useless.” Again, a brief pause, where he cleared his throat. “As an ice-breaker, I mean. Obviously.”

When Darwin moved to trace the image etched into her skin, Luce’s eyes narrowed. Apparently this dude was a big tactile kinda guy. Whatever. She could let it slide, just because he seemed to think it was impressive. But, he stopped himself. Good for him. “Thanks. Drew it myself, and had one of the boys do the work. It’s impossible to tattoo yourself from that angle. It’s one of my foci, I use it to give myself a little extra oomph.” She said, rolling her sleeve back down to cover that specific area of her tattoo. Even to those who knew about magic, she had designed her rune in a way that made it nearly indistinguishable from the geometric pattern that surrounded it. A person would have to be familiar with magic and the symbols concerning fire to understand. And, even then, there were more than a few normal humans who walked around with runes they didn’t understand tattooed on her skin. “Hm.” A traditional rune of protection? She could understand why some people would want such a thing. It didn’t tell her anything about what kind of magic he did, only that he was in the business of keeping himself safe rather than channelling additional power. Interesting. “Very nice. And you know I can understand that. Tattoos are an extension of yourself. Family tradition or not, you should express your own personality within it.” She said with a nod before returning to her more businesslike demeanor. “A touch up for that bad boy of yours won’t be easy, but I do good work. I can guarantee nice, clean lines.”

Someone who knew what a focus was and used the right plural for it. If Darwin hadn't been so gay he would have fawned himself like an excited school-girl. Instead he settled for an impressed nod and another smile. He was dying to know more about her, to learn how much she actually knew, what she did... But it was dangerous: for all Darwin knew his family would eventually look for him, and he couldn't just trust the first magic-inclined person he met. Well, second one, but Winston spoke like a newbie, Darwin doubted they had any ties to the Asrani. So, in order to protect himself, Darwin decided for it'd be best to bring the focus back on the reason he was here, and luckily Luce seemed to share that idea. “Oh, I don't doubt your ability. What's more, you seem to know how crucial precision is with this kind of design, so... Just tell me where you want me and please, be careful. I'm ticklish.” Not one to usually follow orders, this time Darwin got himself into the mind frame of listening to each and every instruction she'd give. Then again looking at the various tools in the studio reminded him of exactly why he'd put it off for so long. Stupid needles. A sharp ceremonial knife across his arm never scared him, the pain only lasted a second and then he had rituals to focus on and distract him from it, but the chair of a tattoo-artist meant he'd have to feel each and every single sting. Safety be damned, he needed the distraction. “So, an extra oomph. Amber stones just weren't doing it for you? Most practitioners I've met tended to favor something less...” Traceable? Recognizable? “Permanent to channel their magic.”

“Sounds like a plan to me. Lie on back and I’ll get everything started.” Luce said, gesturing to the chair between them. “Take your shirt off too, can’t have it getting in the way.” She said as she got the needles, ink, and a fresh pair of gloves on. The business of touch ups wasn’t too difficult, not usually. But on something that was this precise, this delicate, she needed to make sure that she had everything just right. “Trust me, I know. It took a while before I found the right artist to do my sleeve and I made sure the guy’s hands were just as steady as mine. Precision matters for work like this.” She said as she pulled her long hair back in a ponytail. Snapping on some fresh gloves, she noted the apprehension on his face as she pulled out the tools of the trade, the individually packaged needles that sat on a sterile tray, her machine poised at the ready. Setting up her machine, she took out a spray bottle of sterile solution and wiped down the patch of skin that was to be her workspace. “Let’s get started, hm?” She nodded, switching on her machine. The familiar humming vibration filled the room and she set to work, tackling the biggest area of faded skin and ink first. “I’m not like most practitioners. Besides. My symbols blend in with my designs. I hide them in plain sight. Distract with the main design to keep the attention away from the purpose.”

Darwin did as he was told, taking off his shirt and carefully folding it before taking his place on the chair. He wasn't too concerned with the shirt itself, it was more an excuse to buy some time: just like the last time the sight of the needles made his knees a little weak and his face just a tad paler; he hoped she wouldn't notice. When she started the pain wasn't that bad. At first. But Darwin knew how these things went, it would only become worse, so he decided to just focus on Luce's words instead, drinking them in. “Smart. Misdirection is often a magician's best friend.” He tensed his stomach in discomfort, and he noticed that she seemed to anticipate that and stop her work, which put his mind at ease: she really was a professional. “Besides, in my experience the times you need... Ah, an extra oomph, as you put it, are often the times when you can't afford your focus to be swatted away. A crystal can be dropped, a tattoo... Not so much.” Again, he flinched, doing his best to hide the grimace behind another smile. “I could think of at least a dozen times that tattoo has saved my life, it's nice to know the bad things'll have a harder time getting into my head.” He bit his lip, suddenly deep in thought. Then he looked at Luce. “So, let's say I designed another one, maybe something to help with channeling... How much would you ask to make it all discreet and pretty-like? I got a feeling I'll need some extra power in this town, but I can’t give up on style.”

While she was focused on her work, Luce considered being able to read her client’s body language a part of that. She’d tattooed her own sisters, after all, and the two of them hated needles more than anyone she knew. Which is why she paused every so often, checking the man’s expression, making sure that he never went pale and that he remained alert. She nodded at his comment as she wiped away some of the ink from the skin with a paper towel, clearing the area so she could continue over the delicate, intricate letters and symbols. But, internally she frowned at the idea of being called a magician. That was Bea’s thing. Not hers. “Exactly. It’s always nice to have it on hand. Or rather, on shoulder.” She joked. She watched him flinch and paused, lifted needle away from his skin. She didn’t want to ruin his… rune. As she continued her work, his words played around in her mind. Dozens of times, hm? That explained the wear and tear on it. But, getting into his head-- what did that mean? Someone try to take his memory, like her sister did to August? Or did he mean something else. Hm. “Channeling? Depends on what kind of thing you’re channeling.” She said, pulling away to look at her handiwork from afar. Nice. “For the elements, I use the old alchemical symbols. They blend in nicely with my style. Sacred geometry.” She said, tilting her head to the pinboard with some of her designs were displayed. “For other things… I could hide it in a landscape, imbued with power. Or in the gilded edges of a neo-traditional mirror. It all depends on what you’re looking to channel.”

“Elements, huh? So I was right, you really are a Firecracker.” Darwin said with a small shrug, one that he immediately regretted. “For me it's usually safer to stay away from flames, but most rituals draw power from the elements, I thought I recognized something.” He grew silent, his brows furrowing. What was he looking to channel? Truth be told, the potential of a new tattoo hadn't really crossed his mind before now, but he had to admit, it was a brilliant idea: before running away he'd always had another ritualist to help out, but ever since he'd escaped he'd been on his own, and tangoing with demons was a dangerous hobby, one that took a lot out of him. If he could pick one thing to improve in his spell casting, what would it be? Finally, after a long pause, he murmured, more to himself than Luce. “Stability. That's what I need. An actual anchor for my power. Ever felt like you're a breath away from casting the perfect spell and then something goes wrong and all that energy you collected just slips away? I can't afford tha- Ouch! Careful, there!” Oh yeah, now he remembered: the part over the bone had been the worse, even when he first got the tattoo. He steadied himself and focused on the conversation again, humor the only coping mechanism he had left while at Luce’s mercy. “Whatever design I come up with, I'm sure you'll be able to fit it into our fabulous dinosaur. No one would look for a power rune there.”

“You know it.” Luce said, flipping him off, the alchemical symbol for fire on full display on her finger. For all he knew, she did other magic, focused in other spells. But, that had never been something she’d wanted. Fire was in her blood and it was all she wanted to study. All energy, all life on Earth depended on fire just as surely as it depended on the other elements. His mention of rituals, they didn’t give much away in the nature of what he did. Everyone did rituals-- the coven did circles and rituals all the time, to strengthen their ties to the earth and to the magic within themselves. But, stability. That was an interesting one. “Hm.” She said with a nod. She’d felt that sensation once before, only once. Messing with creating a fire so hot, so blinding, that it barely felt like the flames that she was so used to controlling. In that moment, power beyond her imagination was within her grasp. Only for it to slid away. At his protests, Luce laughed, “Don’t be a child.” She said, but used a gentler hand as she tattooed over his hip. Steady hand, steady pokes.“Mm, of course. I could work it into the scales of the dinosaur, or maybe even into the monocle on his eye. He’s got to have a monocle.”

“Easy to say when you're not the one being poked to death,” Darwin mumbled, slowly raising the hand on the opposite side of his tattoo to flip her off. Normally he'd never resort to such crude gestures, but he'd learned to adapt to the person -or creature- in front of him, mimicking their habits in order to better anticipate their movements, their attacks, their plans. Also, he was in pain, he was allowed a slip in style. Despite his protests, he stilled himself, doing his best to suppress every small shiver and tremor and, more importantly, every chuckle: flipping someone off was one thing, but going into a giggling fit would wreck his reputation as well as his tattoo, and he definitely hoped to stay in contact with Luce. “Of course he has a monocle, what kind of uncultured swine do you take him for? And I'll name him Bertrand II, after my...” Demonic pet? Too personal, too soon, who knew how she'd take it. “...Familiar.” Hopefully she'd mistake that hesitation for another reaction to the tattooing process, but even then, Darwin realized he wouldn't be able to keep twisting the truth without focusing 100% on the conversation, and her needle was distracting at best. “I refuse to burst into tears on your chair, so... How about some music? To take my mind off the damned buzzing? I'll take anything, as long as it's loud and I can sing along. Yes, I sing, feel free to swoon.”

“You say that like I haven’t sat in that chair for hours myself.” Luce snorted, gesturing to her elaborate sleeve tattoos. He didn’t need to know about all her other tattoos-- those were reserved for the lovely ladies she took to bed. “You can talk to me about being poked to death when you get a rib tattoo or three.” She said. A hawk and a peacock, for Nell and Bea. Though they wouldn’t know that. No, they just thought the matching tattoos across the sternum was all she had for them. The pause in his voice didn’t go unnoticed and Luce arched her eyebrow as she continued to trace the linework. “Your familiar, huh? I’m sure he’ll be touched by it.” Iggy new that she wouldn’t ever be getting a tattoo of him, that was for damn certain. “Gonna cry? This is so sad, Alexa, play Despacito.” She said, leaning back in her chair as the little gadget lit up and the musical stylings of not the Justin Beiber version filled the air. With a grin, she set back to work, humming quietly to herself as she drew. Darwin, huh? Just what kind of spellcaster was he? She supposed she’d just have to find out another time.

[purplesurveys]

878

Can you lift more than 100lbs? I can’t even lift 100 lbs flat. The most I’ve been able to deadlift was I think 80 or 90 lbs, but I already count that as an achievement since I weigh around that much anyway. What's your opinion on incest? Big yikes. Some memes can be hilarious but when you think about how incest will sometimes come from a place of sexual abuse within the family, it stops being funny so I’d rather take it seriously like 98% of the time. Do you have a favorite color for cats? Mmm I think orange is really cute. The few cats that have been nice to me are usually the orange ones. What was your latest email about? It’s an email from a transcribing website inviting me to their Slack. Since I can’t get a legit job for now, Gab let me know about these websites that’ll let you do some transcribing and pay you a few cents (around ₱15-20) for each of them. One of the sites I joined, whose test I passed, invited me to their Slack earlier today so I can be a part of the team. I’m still feeling too anxious to join the group so I haven’t addressed it for now, but maybe by tonight or tomorrow. What video games did you play when you were younger? Our parents weren’t too strict when it came to video game supervision so we were already playing Grand Theft Auto, Silent Hil, Resident Evil, etc. as kids. Those games eventually ended up being my favorites. I liked other less-violent games too, like games from the Burnout franchise, The Simpsons: Hit and Run and that one Spongebob video game based on the first Spongebob movie hehe.

Would you ever get a tramp stamp? That’s not really a place where I’d like to get a tattoo. I want it to be somewhere I can constantly see, like my fingers or wrist. Do you like Lady Gaga? Yeah. It has a sentimental point to it too because she’s essentially a part of the root of mine and Gabie’s friendship. When we first met I was heavily into Beyoncé and she, into Gaga. Telephone was still a super popular song then and people were really into the Bey-Gaga duo, so it was the perfect recipe for a friendship to form. We make it a point to like each other’s bias so she’s caught up with Beyoncé’s new material and I also always support Gaga’s. What's your favorite commercial? I love the sports car ad of Fita and the ‘First Love’ McDonald’s ad. Jollibee’s Valentine’s Day ads have also been pretty gut-wrenching in the last few years. Did you cry when Michael Jackson died? I didn’t, but by then I already knew how big of a star he was because of how much Beyoncé hyped him up before he passed lol. It was also easy to understand that it was a big deal because the news covered his death and funeral for hourssss during that week. What does the last notification you received say? “home” Gab drove out to run some errands and I asked her to let me know when she gets home, because the weather isn’t looking good. What's the ugliest species of animal? Cockroaches. Are you embarrassed about any songs on your iPod? I wasn’t embarrassed over the punk bands I listened to but I knew my classmates weren’t going to understand my taste and possibly ostracize me even more than I already was, so I kept my punk playlist all to myself. Who is on your Top Friends? I don’t have Myspace but Facebook ranks friends based on how much you interact with them and my top 5 are Angela, Gabie, Mils, Alique, and Andrew. What do you use to listen to music on the computer? Spotify.  Do people know a lot about you? You guys sure do. But yeah when it comes to irl people I wear my heart on my sleeve, too. What was the last thing you said out loud? “That’s enough for now.”  Do you miss anybody? Of course. All my friends. More than ever. Have you ever heard the song What A Wonderful World? Yes, though I think I may have only ever heard the chorus since that’s the most-played part of the song. Who was the last person you said I Love You to? Gabie. Have you ever deleted someone off of Facebook? I’ve unfriended countless people and blocked a handful of others. Do you have any bug bites right now? No. Puppy bites, yes. Have you ever been burned? My finger has. When I was 7 I stupidly laid a finger on a clothes iron that was plugged in. My grandma had been using it but she left for a while to do a task. It’s still up there on the stupidest things I’ve ever done. Who was your last inbox message from? It’s the same message from Gab I mentioned earlier. Would you ever consider being a critic? Nah. Analyzing works of art has never been my strong suit. I once had to keep a movie review blog as one of the requirements for my Film 100 class and I honestly found it difficult. Being a critic requires rich knowledge on anything and everything you’re critiquing, and I don’t know if I’m well-versed enough for that. I just want to enjoy my films, dude. Same goes for TV shows, paintings, food, poems, etc. Who was the last person you slept beside? Gab probs, but it’s been a while. Do you like Metallica? I loved For Whom the Bell Tolls from the very first second I heard it, which was when Triple H used it as his entrance song from one of the recent-ish Wrestlemanias. Other than that, I’m not familiar with their music.

What's your favorite kind of soup? Miso! What’s your best friend's favorite band? Angela loves The Maine. I know Gab doesn’t pick a favorite anything. Who was the last person you IMed? Again, Gabie. Have you ever heard of the band Thin Lizzy? Nope. Who was the last person you took a picture with? I haven’t had a photo with anyone in a while, but I want to guess that it’s my family. Do you play Guitar Hero? I used to. But I always preferred Rock Band because I really liked the concept of switching from one instrument to another. Do you play any real instruments? No. What are un-real instruments lol Where are your siblings right now? They’re both in the living room. Whose house did you last visit? My grandma’s house, aka the house where we used to live. My uncle baked me a tres leches cake as a graduation gift so I briefly came over to pick it up :) Since I was already there, my grandma also gave me a portion of the lengua she had made for dinner.  Who was the last person to come to your house? ^ Same grandma, and my cousin. They went over to meet Cooper and to do a lot of catching up. What time do you usually eat dinner? 7-7:30 in the evening. Have you ever searched your own house on Google Earth? Hahaha yeah, I think most of us have at one point. I also looked up myo old school when I was still studying there. Does it bother you when people have a loose grip on hugs? No. I know some people aren’t the most comfortable with hugs. Are you looking forward to next year? If I can be promised that the virus will be gone by 2021, then hell yes. What have you done so far this summer? This has been one long-ass summer...I’ve finished my thesis, relinquished my duties as VP for my org, owned a puppy, gotten sick for the first time in years, seen my girlfriend once in four months, cooked something from scratch for the first time, and tried to apply for simple side jobs over the interwebs. Do you have a common name or uncommon? It’s kinda in the middle? It’s not a unique name, but it’s also not a very popular choice. What's your favorite punk band? Against Me! I have my other fave punk bands but none has done it for me the way AM! has.

[abigailpoe]

About Last Night... (TE)

Summary: When the group of friends wakes up after a night on the town, with no memories, they set out to find out what happened the night before.

Notes: I don’t own any of these characters. please note that I have not written much fanfiction in the past few months and that this is part of my logical return to Tumblr.

Rating: PG-13

Tags: @endlessflame @flyawayboo @regina-and-happiness @syltti78 @pixelburied

I squinted my eyes as I rolled over to find myself on the floor of my dorm in the common area. I sat up and patted my head to find myself wearing a cowboy hand. I glanced at my feet to discover that my heels were missing, and in their place were sandals. I looked over into the corner to find Beckett spooning Griffin. I raised my eyebrow, but I continued to search for my other friends. I looked into the fireplace to find some of Shreya’s clothing burned up which caused me to wince. I heard water running in the bathroom where I found the sink running, and Shreya was asleep in the bathtub, covered in soap.

I heard a yell from the other room and ran out to find Zeph coming out from underneath a desk with hot pink hair. “What the hell?”

Griffin let out a soft noise as he awoke from his sleep in Beckett’s arms. Beckett also woke up at the same time. The two looked at each other and jumped apart. Griffin fell off of the couch and hit his head on the table. “Ow...” He groaned, rubbing his head. 

“What happened to your hair?” I asked Zeph.

Zeph pointed to Beckett’s outfit. “What is he wearing is the more important question?” I turned to see Beckett, brushing himself off. He was now wearing pull away pants and a vest. “Are those-”

I nodded. “Beckett, why are you dressed like a stripper?”

He looked down at himself. “I don’t know. I blame you. You wanted to take us all drinking last night to celebrate our first semester grades.” Beckett smoothed out his pants and began buttoning the shirt.

“At least you woke up with your own shoes on,” I stated, throwing the shoes next to the fire with the burnt clothing. I began to itch the back of my arm. I raised an eyebrow as I discovered my arm wrapped in plastic wrap. “Can you help me get this off, Beckett?”

Beckett came over and began unraveling the wrapping. “Oh god-”

“What is it?” I asked, glancing over my shoulder but unable to see what was going on. 

Beckett pulled out his phone and took a picture of my arm. “You have a small problem.” He whispered as he held his phone out to me. Beckett’s phone glowed with a picture of my arm, covered in an intricate heart with his name in the middle. 

“Well, at least it wasn’t your face.” I attempted to reassure myself. I turned around to face Beckett, raising an eyebrow. “I’m wondering if you have a matching one somewhere.”

Beckett turned around and peeled off his shirt and let me inspect his back. “Do you see anything?” He pondered. I let out a small sort when I found a tramp stamp on his lower back. I took a picture and held it up to him. “You’re kidding me-“

“I can’t believe my face is on your ass!” Zeph laughed. Sherya screamed from inside the bathroom. She ran out into the main room and screamed again.

“My clothes!” Her body began to shake as she struggled, like the rest of us, to figure out what had happened the night before.

I climbed onto the couch. “Let’s not panic! Let’s just go back to the bar and find out what happened.”

Griffin rubbed his eye. “Did I get into a fight?” We all shrugged, not knowing the answer.

We headed out the door and into the city to the Fire and Ice bar. The bar was small, but it was where many of the college kids went. It wasn’t busy, seeing as it was now the morning. The bell rang as we opened the door.

“Oh no! All of you out! You are no longer allowed in this establishment!” The bartender yelled. “Expect for you!” He pointed at me.

“Why just me?” I asked.

He pointed to the top of the bar. “You’re the only one who didn’t dance up here!”

“I would never have done that.” Beckett remarked. “I want proof.”

We all sat in front of the television in the back room as the bartender showed us the video of last night. Beckett ripped of his shirt and flung it into a crowd of girls. Griffin was laying down and talking to a girl when Sherya came up and punched him in the eye.

“So that’s how I got the black eye-“ frowned Griffin. He turned towards Sherya, now beet red with embarrassment. “I mean, it sucks, but at least I know.”

The bartender turned around and handed me something. “The angry one gave this to me.”

It was a small price of paper with four numbers, 145-2 on it, and I had no idea what they meant. “Thanks?”

Beckett pulled a price of paper out of his stripper pants. “I have this note to go to the local cheese farm. Why on earth would we go there?”

We all left the bar and headed to the local cheese factory. Beckett held the door open for us as we walked into the building.

“Hello, and welcome-“ the woman trailed off as she looked at Sherya. “You owe me $350!”

“What...?” Sherya asked

The woman pointed a finger at Sherya and began to yell. “You kill Daisy!”

“Oh my gosh-” Griffin and Zeph gasped at the same time.

Sherya took a small step backward. “I don’t think that I did that...”

The video was grainy, but it was cleat enough to see that Sherya set a giant, plastic cow on fire. Atlas was off to the side talking to a guy with a tub full of something.

I point to the screen. “Is that Atlas?” My phone began to ring with an unrecognized number appearing on the screen. “Hello?”

“You need to come and get me. I’m at some hotel with a shirtless dude. There are markers all over the place.” Atlas panicked. 

Once again, we headed to another location, and Atlas had given us this one. I pulled the piece of paper out of my pocket. “Guys, follow me.”

When we arrived on the second floor to room 145, I knocked on the door, which was quickly opened by my twin. We all moved into the room and looked at the man, who was half-clothed, and we wondered who he was. I used my Sun-Att skills to wake him up.

“Who are you?” Beckett asked.

The man raised an eyebrow. “I’m Ash, and I did your fake tattoos last night. I didn't want them to be permanent, so I made them in markers.” He pointed to my feet. “Why are you in my flip flops?”

“Thank god!” loudly remarked Beckett as well as I in sync.

All of us left the room and headed back to the dorms. In all honesty, we never did figure out what happened that night. But one thing was for sure, we were never going to talk about last night...

[shannonsuxx]

The Most Awesome “Scruff” Profile You’ll Never See | The Persian Prince Diaries

One of the things that always gravitated me towards apps like 'Scruff' and 'Grindr' was that it markets as a place where gay guys can meet and chat in a comfortable setting. Of course, anyone knows that once you target something toward gay men, you’re simply asking for an orgy of some type. What’s funny about these apps is not that people use it to hook-up (I had my fair share of app-ups), but it’s that people take it so damn seriously; as if the countless men soliciting for sex and posting headless pics of themselves at the gym are somehow mindful about their health, nevertheless their feelings. So, I took it upon myself to create my Scruff profile and add in parts that not only highlight the kind of person I am, but also how ridiculous the people who use these apps are. Needless to say, whenever I open my mouth (or put pen to paper), I tend to offend at least someone in my general audience. I was blocked so many times my account had been suspended… twice. When I emailed asking, “Why is my profile deleted. There is no nudity, sexual solicitations, or offensive material that isn’t suitable for anyone under 17?” I simply got a response of “It’s offensive for mass audiences…” and then received a list of offensive quotes….somebody up in Scruff don’t like me. So, not in protest, but just for sheer irony, I’m posting this here for more audiences to see rather than just the headless torsos who want a BJ: Name: “Little Monsters” Age: 25 Status: Partnered What I Do: “To start, and please take this seriously, I’ve been flagged numerous times on this thing for inappropriate content. And I have a strong feeling it’s because I’m simply too honest. So if you are easily offended or take yourself too seriously, do us both a favor and just block me. That being said: If you think the name is from Lady Gaga, you’re too young and I’m just going to make fun of you. With that, is it just me, or does Howie Mendel in that movie look like a Chinese AIDS patient? I love racism. There, I said it. I like making 9-11 jokes, I point out black people running and then ask you if you still have your VCR, I have yet to find an Asian who can make me hard or drive a sedan, and I’m brown so I can say all that without you PC schmucks playing the race card. I am constantly entertained by the mass amount of Sleepy Hollow fans on this thing. That horseman would’ve loved this app. I’m not hooking up or meeting up with you. If you read too much into this, you didn’t read this at all. However, I do believe in equal opportunity bigotry, so I will gladly laugh and talk with everyone so long as it stays about me and how awesome I am. I’m a student by trade, but a ruff n’ tumble at heart. I like chopping wood and swimming in swamps. I’m distracted easily and still haven’t gotten over that Menudo broke up. “ Activities & Interests: “anything that requires beer… I’m an Indie kid (no, NOT hipster!) so I like all the weird music, movies and books and coffee that them ugly hippie kids like but the main difference is that I both have taste and know what a shower looks like. I like to point out people’s flaws. Not because I’m a douchebag, but because I like to bring you down to earth. For example, nobody cares that you work out at Golds Gym 5 times a week. I also work out 5 times a week – my brain. So instead of posting a picture of you looking like Denise Austin masturbating a tire iron why not post a picture of you reading a paper? You’ll look sexier and you’ll come off less a stereotypical gay douchebag. Tattoos: I have four. One of the first guys that ever sat on my lap had a Chinese tramp stamp, so from then on I vowed to only get tattoos that wouldn’t make me look like a product of a bad 90’s joke (aka Tribal tattoos, Chinese “laughter” signs, etc.) Each one took three years of thought — except the last one which took 30 seconds and a large bottle of Sailor Jerry rum. I also love to watch horror movies. Top one on my list: Passion of the Christ. I follow religion, not church. I grew up with a Muslim father and a Catholic mother so I was able to claim jihad on myself well into my wonder years. Now, I just follow the religion on being an inherently good person… Who happens to judge…a lot What’s in my iPod? The Naked and Famous, Lynyrd Skynyrd, Tycho, Alexander, Starfucker, Lumineers, Yellowcard, Stan Getz, Gemini Club, Kanye West, Digitalism, Cat Stevens… To name a few” What I’m Looking For: “Well, I already have a dude (actually we met through here — so take THAT) and I have great sex whenever I want it, so don’t expect me to be down just cuz you’re not brown. He would call me too “libra” for my own good. I have no clue what that means, I don’t care what that means, I already have one big ball of gas in bed, I don’t need to look up and see more. Leave the astrology talk for someone who cares. Also, we are completely monogamous. So don’t ask if there are some lines I cross. We don’t. I don’t. He don’t. The only line I’ll jump I the taco stand line. Buzzwords: Coachella, Tribe Called Quest, Scott Brown, Grilled Cheese Truck” And there you have it: the most awesome “Scruff” profile ever suspended.