#but for anyone that wants one and can afford it

[evilminji]

Back on my: Holotuber Jedi Youngling - OC Thoughts >.>

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You think folks debate at first? Shtick or Real Thing? Like? No... no WAY could that be one of those Mysterious Mystic Space Cult Kids. No WAY. They would NEVER let their kid be unsupervised on the Net.

But like... (and since I'm a She, gonna use She, but realistically could be any pronouns here) she LOOKS like she's recording from a...? Is that a closet? This one looks like a vent. THIS video is definitely some sort of maintenance area. So she's definitely sneaking...

Ooooh! Thaaaat's a Jedi! REAL FUCKING JEDI. Just dropped down silently behind her. Arms crossed. Mouse droids be snitching. BUSTED.

:T

"Uuuuuuh, h-heeey, Master Uvalii. Fancy seeing YOU here!"

"Yes. Quite interesting isn't it? Since you should not be able to access this area at all, much less to achieve holonet access. Of which we are both aware you are expressly Forbidden To DO unsupervised."

".........I can explain?"

"Please. Do."

*feed ends, chat goes fucking NUTS*

Like? Oh SHIT. Baby Jedi in troooouble. But also? Oh no! What's gonna happen?! Are they gonna be okay?! S-should they TELL somebody? What do Jedi do to kids who disobey them? Does anyone actually KNOW? What DO any of us know about them!? Someone find their Com Code! MA! MA, I need you to yell at space monks! An adorable CHILD MIGHT BE AT STAKE!!! D:>

Even coming BACK on? For a supervised feed? Going "no, I'm just in trouble. Have to right paragraphs and meditate on 'why I felt the need to do this' (even though I KNOW why, not that they'll LISTEN. They just hope I'll meditate until I come to an answer they LIKE)" under the offscreen supervision of a teacher or Creche master?

Whole ass Net gonna be like "youngling! Blink Twice if they're holding you hostage! We can afford bounty hunters! We got a group pot thing going already!!! Aaaaaaaa-!"

Like? *waves at the camera and chat* she TOLD you. They don't believe you. This is part of WHY she wants to do what she's doing. Palpatine's and his Master's machinations have been building for a while. Eroding trust. The Jedi have become strange, dangerous, semi-mythical cryptids with magic powers we must HOPE are benevolent.

Not people.

Why would they expect some unfeeling, magical, sword-wielding space legend to be patient or kind to children? To even have the capacity? We are said to kidnap children and be unfeeling. Can not reach enough people to show otherwise. To reveal the mundanity of our lives. The traditions. The norms.

Food, children, laughter.

The Common Good.

And like? She obviously isn't gonna name Sith-ly NAMES. Not on CAMERA. But her lil "why I wanna play the tooka game and chat about lunch" speech? Convincing. Calms chat down. Still in trouble, mind you. But... provided it's SUPERVISED? And they work out some sort of effective moderation? Alright.

It's a matter of SAFETY, youngling. And no matter HOW much good you wish to do? They will NOT be sacrificing children to achieve it. That is NOT the Jedi way. There are plenty of old masters who would live nothing more then to ramble all day into cameras, if only to here themselves talk. (Oh? Good to know. Guest speakers pog?)

Like? Imagine making a game. Have a "mystical sage" character you TOTALLY BASED of Jedi in it. And your feed gets? Flooded with XD reactions in response to some smol bby streamer playing it? You go to check it out. Cause you're kinda a big deal on your planet. And?

Oh No™

That tiny streamer? Is a tiny JEDI streamer. Who is sitting there, in the stills, going O.o like "Wut." And the next still? Her lil friends are pulled in. The next? A teenager. The NEXT. An adult. The one after THAT. A few adults looking over her shoulder. Then a CROWD. All deeply, deeply confused looking.

The comments are DYING. Howling with laughter. The Jedi were so earnest. Trying to identify which Era you must be referencing. Which sect. But the head dress... cultural, maybe? It doesn't fit with the features though. Could be adopted. A hint at, I believe the term was, "lore"? No, no, those are DEFINITELY padawan beads! But so MANY? In THAT order?

They aren't even connected to a braid! And he's supposed to be a Master, right? But, wait. Perhaps it's meant to suggest he is a Padawan of the Force itself? A student of life? No, that wouldn't make sense! Stolen? It could suggest he has TAKEN the beads? Is regurgitating stolen texts without true understanding? Much like wearing bead he did not EARN?

They keep going and going. Ripping your character design to SHREDS. Picking it apart. Not even meanly! They are genuinely confused. AND IT ONLY MAKES THE CHAT LAUGH HARDER. Because it devolves into a MARATHON, after the game has been paused, of chat spamming different character names? For the Jedi to go "???" Over.

T...that's not? What? How does he even EAT in those robes? And those ones don't seem very non-humanoid friendly. Is he FLOATING HIS SWORD WITH THE FORCE? WHY!? Just keep it on your belt!!!

And? Now every game developer in the galaxy is PARANOID AF. Either make their mystics Very Obviously NOT Jedi rip offs... or shoot a "if I pay you $20 will you consult on something real quick" email. It's just... just easier man. Last guy got laughed into oblivion. Oof.

They can bill it as "Realism" or something. See guys? WE do or reasearch! Give us your credits!

Oh YEAH? Says the growing fan base of this Funky Lil Monk Child. Then put you game where your communication organs are. Send her the game, you cowards.

Do It.

Cut to "oh no, guys! The sorta-jedi died! What? Next objective? No. No we gotta give him a funeral! Oh good, we ca-BURY HIM?! What!? No!!! I could understand if he was from a race that held beliefs that bodies must be returned to the soil from whence they came, but this guy is a SORTA-JEDI! Absolutely NOT!"

"Let's cut down some trees. WE are building him a PYRE. Never ran one of these, but I can look it up. Gimme a moment. Okay. Draaaaag, him on to it. Where's his weapon. There! Thanks chat! On it goes too. Okay. Looking it up..... got it. Ahem...!"

*hold funeral for the sage character by burning his body*

*mods are IMMEDIATELY created to change the "burial" scene to a "Funeral pyre" with somber music*

Just? I can not let go? Of how the subtle shift would spread? Not in shining senatorial halls, but in class rooms and living rooms, dingy pubs and long hyperdrive flights? Anywhere boredom might be found and "hey check this out" might spread? Where someone else, might overhear and get curious?

Lik?? Imagine being the bounty hunter, who fuckin HATES Jedi, thinks they're sanctimonious BASTARDS, hearing someone snort laugh. Just... just fucking CHOKE on their cheep beer. Oh? Now everyone's interested. What's funny?

It's a teeny, tiny, lil jedi youngling. Playing that new Bounty 5 game. Unrealistic as hell. But they are going "I am a MASTER of stealth. A LEGEND of the hunt. You will not see me. I am sneaky. So, so, sneeeeakyyyyy!" As they concentrate on sneaking through back alleys.

Only for their character to fall RIGHT of a ledge, bounce against three buildings, smash into a parked Speeder, and roll right into a cut scene. Where they are call the "greatest bounty hunter of all time".

They look so incredulous.

"Are you SURE? Cause I'm fairly certain that phrase alone is banned for the trouble it causes, near most Bounty outposts. Could be the concussion talking though!"

They are? A sarcastic lil SHIT. Roast EVERYTHING. Know a surprising number of them. Given that they gave the Duros support character a modded in hat. Named him Definitely-Not-Cad. The fake look mustache REALLY sells it. Yeah, Bane. Clearly not you. YOU don't have a mustaches. *watches as she unleashes the Not Cad Bane like a highly tactical meat thresher on legs* brutal lil shit. They like her.

Granted, it's only BECAUSE it's not real she does so.

But I just? Have so many ideas? Spam the Galaxy with "this is who we are. We are people. Develop bonds with us. Care about us. KNOW us." Because the Sith can not possibly kill us all. Can not stop truth, so widely spread. Light dies, when you smother it in closed hands, hidden away in dark and long forgotten places. When you let fear dictate your actions.

It thrives in the open. With people. With the chance to SPREAD. Grow. Bloom.

It's about talking and caring. Being heard. What better place? Then on the screen in their pocket?

@babbling-babull @hypewinter @hdgnj @legitimatesatanspawn @spidori @spidori

[iknwreid]

sweet nothing – spencelle.

“industry disruptors and soul deconstructors and smooth-talkin' hucksters out glad-handin' each other and the voices that implore, “you should be doin' more" to you, i can admit that i'm just too soft for all of it"

wc: 1.1k | disclamers: comfort. im thinking second season spencelle. | a/n: english is not my first language, i just really love spencelle and taylor swift. this song is literally them. text divider by cafekitsune.

It was too much for her. This job was all Elle ever wanted: make her father proud, to do good, to arrest some crazy sons of bitches. But sometimes, just sometimes… It was too much. When she got home, she'd sit on her couch and stare off into the distance, her gaze lost, only her mind working, wondering if it was really worth it. It was hard to give up and it was not like her. She would never do that. Being the first female profiler in the BAU was not something to give up. And that's why she couldn’t afford to show her weakness to anyone. They would certainly misjudge her, she wouldn’t be good enough. Too soft.

Elle was soft. Tender, friendly, sweet. Sometimes a little awkward. Spencer could see that through the mask she wore. He could notice all her little details. She was too important to him, of course he would know her. Elle made Spencer feel like a whole person and not a crazy nerd with only that to show. She listened to him when he talked about anything, – “What a mind, Reid.” – even if she did not really understand, and he sat by her side when she wanted company but was not brave enough to say so. They were good for each other like no other. There were only a few words in the air, but it was just perfect for their connected minds.

Every now and then, one case would get rougher than the other, and it was inevitable not to let it affect her. Perhaps even impossible. Elle sat at her desk, Spencer in a chair beside her. They were silent for a moment, looking at the case file and writing all the horrors back into their memories. Spencer looked at her, tracing all her features and looking at her mysterious face that was glancing at what seemed to be nothing. She had recently cut her bangs. Reid found that lovely, it really suits her, he thinks. 

“Elle.” A voice they recognize echoes through the bullpen. Hotchner stands on the steps of the staircase with a serious look on his face. She stands up before answering. “Yes, Hotch?” she swivels her hips and walks towards him. Spencer watched the scene not quite so discreetly, his eyes fixed on the two familiar faces. He could see Hotchner opening his lips to say something, but he couldn’t hear what he was actually saying. He knew, however, that these words absolutely crashed Elle’s mind. She was an expressive person, and he definitely inferred the topic of conversation when her face turned into a miserable expression as her hands grabbed at her arms to hold onto something to keep herself from falling. Reid stood up without moving, but he was ready to if he had to. Not even a second later, all he saw was Elle leaving the bullpen, faster than ever before. Even faster than when they had vacations. His eyes searched for her, not wanting her to leave.

Spencer walked up to her and touched her on the shoulders as she stood in the hallway. “Hey, Elle?” His voice was soft and low, he did his best not to startle her. She turned to him, her eyes moist and an astonished expression on her face. “What happened there?” he dared to ask. She was silent, open-mouthed, as if searching for the right words.“He said I should have done more.” Greenaway said at the moment a tear welled up on her face. Spencer stared into her eyes, not knowing exactly what to say, in fact, not even knowing what he wanted to hear. “You've done more than enough, Elle.” His hands softened the touch in her shoulders, sliding down her arms and then over her hands, touching them lightly before crossing his arms. She looked down at the floor and nodded her head slightly. She was disappointed with herself. And she knew she should be doing more, but hearing that from another person was soul wrecking. Hotchner's words were like waves crashing on the shore. “No, he's right, Spencer.” 

It was natural for him to embrace her. He didn't even think about it, he just hugged her and tried to comfort her in a better way than with words. Spencer felt that words were a good way to comfort, but right now he needed the feeling that Elle was safe in his arms. The feeling that she wasn't going to leave and stay alone in her house thinking about leaving for the best of it. She didn't say in words that she had done this before, but he knew it was true. He had done it before, too. And they were so much alike that he could sense that his hunch was right. Elle didn't immediately respond to the hug, but just seconds after she felt him hugging her, she couldn’t resist the urge to feel him too. Her hands ran carefully over his upper back as she breathed in his scent, a mixture of black coffee and wood. It was so comforting, it felt like home. Not her house, but home, like going back to New York City after so many years. 

Spencer ran his hands briefly through her short hair after she released the hug; he wanted more, he felt so comfortable with her touch that he craved more. Every time he felt her close to him, he didn't care about the rest of the world, he didn't care if the end was coming or if everyone was up to something, he only cared about Elle. More than anything, he wanted her to be well. In fact, he needed her to be well. Despite that, Spencer didn't expect her to be fine. How could she? How could Elle be fine after everything that had happened?

“You're incredible, Elle. Don't let anything convince you otherwise.” He said, looking into her eyes again. It was a mesmerizing sight, Elle’s eyes. “Please.” Reid added with an almost stupid face, he liked her so much it was painful.

Elle didn't say anything, she just hugged him again because she wanted that feeling once more. Spencer never wanted nothing from her. It was a strange feeling when someone didn't always want 100% from you. All those things he said, not only today, but everytime she needed, – sometimes even when she didn't need it – Elle had never felt so loved. She trusted him so much. Every time she felt insane, Reid’s voice was in her head, whispering sweet nothings to her.

“I think I'm just too soft for all of this.” She said, nuzzling her face into the crook of his neck. He could feel her warm breath on his skin. Spencer pressed her against his body and sighed as he lightly stroked her back.

Spencer wanted to tell her how much he liked her, how much he loved her, despite what anyone said to her, being soft in this job wasn’t a flaw, it was actually a virtue. He didn't say anything, he didn't need to. She knew it, Elle knew it. It was their sweet nothings.

[calirph]

𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐘 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐕𝐀𝐋 𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐃 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒.

all sentences were taken from various scenarios related to arranged marriages mostly in the historical, fantasy or medieval setting. you can use them as base for starters or change place, pronouns as you see fit.

1. Arranged Marriages:

"You’ll be wed to him by sunset, whether you like it or not. The banners are already being stitched."

"Your union will bring peace to the realms. That’s all that matters now."

"I don't know him, Father. How am I to trust a man I've never met?"

"This marriage is a treaty, not a love match. Smile and seal the fate of our kingdom."

"The King has decreed it, and his word is law. You will marry the lord from the north."

2. Civil Marriages:

"It’s been agreed that we will marry, but it doesn’t mean we have to care for one another."

"Our union will be one of duty, not affection. I expect you to know your role."

"There will be no grand feast. Let us sign the papers, exchange vows, and be done with it."

"Marriage is a bond of power, not of the heart. We shall be civil, nothing more."

"Our marriage may not be one of love, but it will be a prosperous one."

3. Animosity Marriages:

"You think this marriage will bring me to heel? You’ll find I am not so easily tamed."

"Marry you? I would sooner take a blade to the throat than suffer beside you."

"I hate you as much as you hate me, but if it secures the throne, I’ll say the vows."

"This is no marriage, it's a prison, and you're the jailer."

"Forced to marry my enemy? I'd rather fight him on the battlefield than share his bed."

4. Marriages of Convenience:

"We both know what this is—a transaction. I expect no less than what we agreed upon."

"Our marriage will benefit us both. We need not speak of love, only power."

"Convenience. That’s all it is. We’ll play our roles and nothing more."

"It may not be what either of us wanted, but it is what we both need."

"A marriage of convenience is still a marriage. We shall gain what we desire and go our separate ways."

5. Secret Marriages:

"No one must know of this union. We can’t afford to let our enemies find out."

"By dawn, we’ll be wed in secret, and none will suspect what we've done."

"The gods have witnessed our vows, but no one else must."

"This marriage must remain hidden until the time is right."

"Our love must be kept in shadows. We cannot risk the kingdom’s wrath."

1. Shock:

"You’re marrying who? Surely, this must be some jest."

"No, I refuse to believe it! They wouldn't force me into this!"

"They have announced our marriage without even consulting me?"

"You mean to tell me my life has been decided with a mere letter?"

"Marriage? To him? I would rather be banished."

2. Calm Acceptance:

"I knew this day would come. There is no use fighting it now."

"So, this is to be my fate? Very well, I shall prepare for the wedding."

"It seems the council has made their choice. I suppose I’ll have to make mine."

"I always knew I wouldn’t marry for love. I’ll wear the crown, if that is what they wish."

"The marriage has been decided? Then let us move forward."

3. Dread:

"This can’t be happening. How could they bind me to someone so cruel?"

"I cannot—will not—marry them. Not after everything they've done."

"Marriage? To him? He’ll ruin me. He’ll ruin everything."

"How could they arrange this without my consent? I can’t do this."

"They cannot force me into this union. I will find a way out."

4. Surprise:

"A marriage? But I wasn’t even aware there were negotiations!"

"Married? To him? I thought they would never agree to it."

"Well, that was… unexpected. When is the ceremony?"

"The marriage has been arranged? I didn’t think anyone would ever want to wed me."

"I hadn’t anticipated a proposal, much less a marriage contract. How long have they been planning this?"

5. Reluctant Acceptance:

"If this is what must be done to keep the peace, then so be it."

"I never wanted this, but I’ll do my duty for the sake of the realm."

"Marriage was never my choice, but I will fulfill my obligations."

"It seems I have no say in the matter. I’ll prepare for the wedding."

"This is not the life I wanted, but if it is what the kingdom demands, I will marry."

6. Demaning the Marriage:

"You will marry him, or you’ll have no place in this house any longer." "I demand you fulfill your duty and marry the prince. It is for the good of the realm." "Your father’s last wish was for you to marry. You will honor it." "You’ll marry me, or I’ll see you cast out of every noble house in this kingdom." "The treaty demands this marriage, and so do I. You will not defy the crown." "I expect you to stand beside him at the altar. There is no other option." "Your marriage to her is the only thing that can save this alliance. You will do as you’re told." "Marry him, or the war will continue. This is your chance to stop the bloodshed." "You’ve been betrothed since childhood. Now, it’s time to fulfill that promise." "I demand you take her hand in marriage, or you will lose everything." "Marry me, or your family’s lands will be forfeit to the crown." "You have no choice. This marriage will happen, with or without your blessing." "The fate of your house depends on this marriage. You will not refuse." "You’ll marry him, or your title will be stripped from you." "Marry her, or the crown will consider it an act of treason." "This marriage is not a request—it’s a command." "You owe it to the family to marry her. The survival of our name depends on it." "There will be no further debate. You will marry him." "The council has decided, and you will marry. There is no escaping this." "This marriage has been arranged, and you will see it through." "You will wed her, or your family’s debts will never be forgiven." "Marry him, or you’ll be cast out of every noble circle in this land." "The marriage is necessary for the alliance. You will go through with it." "You’ll marry, or the consequences will be dire for your entire family." "This marriage isn’t just for you. It’s for the realm. You will marry."

7. Refusing the Marriage.

"I refuse to marry him. You can send me to the gallows, but I won’t say the vows." "You may have my life, but you will never have my hand in marriage." "I will not marry her. Not today, not ever." "I will die before I am bound to a man I despise." "I refuse to be a pawn in this marriage game." "This marriage is a mistake, and I will not be a part of it." "I cannot marry him. My heart belongs to another." "I will not be forced into a marriage I did not choose." "The crown may demand it, but I will not be forced into this union." "I will not marry her, no matter the consequences." "I’ll run away before I let them marry me to him." "You can’t force me into this. I refuse to marry him!" "The answer is no. I will not marry someone I do not love." "I cannot and will not marry him. No one can make me." "I will not be sold into a marriage like a piece of livestock." "My answer is final—I will not marry her." "This is not the life I wanted, and I will not marry him." "No amount of persuasion will force me into this marriage." "I will not be tied to a man who sees me as nothing more than a prize." "I refuse to be part of this political game. I won’t marry her." "You can threaten me all you like, but I will not marry him." "I will not marry for duty. I will marry for love, or not at all." "The marriage contract is torn. I will not wed him." "No force on earth will make me stand before an altar with him." "I will not be bound by chains of a marriage I did not choose."

8. Accepting or Warming up to Marriage:

"Perhaps this marriage isn’t such a terrible idea after all. It could bring more than just peace." "I’ve had time to think, and maybe… just maybe, this could work." "I never thought I’d say this, but I’m beginning to see the value in our union." "At first, I resisted, but now… the idea of marriage doesn’t seem so unbearable." "It may not have been my choice, but I’m starting to understand why it has to be this way." "The more I think on it, the more I realize that this marriage might actually be good for both of us." "I can’t deny that there’s strength in unity. Perhaps marriage is the best path forward." "I didn’t expect to say this, but I’m willing to give this marriage a chance." "I’ve come to terms with it. This marriage could bring something more than I first imagined." "I’ve fought it for so long, but maybe… it’s time to accept my fate." "You know, I think we could make this marriage work, if we’re both willing." "Strange, isn’t it? How the idea of marriage once repelled me, but now… it feels like the right course." "I used to hate the thought of it, but now I see there might be a future in this marriage." "I’m starting to believe that we can find happiness in this arrangement, even if it wasn’t love at first." "At first, I feared this union, but now… now I think we could build something real." "It wasn’t my first choice, but I’ve realized we might find more than just duty in this marriage." "I never thought I’d come around to the idea, but this marriage could bring more than just titles and lands." "I’ve had my doubts, but perhaps we can make this more than just an alliance." "If we’re both committed to this marriage, I believe we could find peace—and maybe something more." "I once thought I’d be miserable, but now I see… perhaps there’s hope for us after all." "We might not have chosen each other, but I think there’s a way forward in this marriage." "I didn’t expect to ever feel this way, but I’m beginning to look forward to our wedding." "Maybe this marriage was meant to be. There’s potential for more here than either of us anticipated." "I used to dread the idea of being married, but with you… maybe it won’t be so bad." "It seems strange to say, but I’m actually beginning to warm to the idea of being your spouse."

9. The wedding night.

"So… this is it, then? Our wedding night. Are you as nervous as I am?" "I know we’re bound by duty, but tonight… let’s forget everything else and just be ourselves." "Do you think we’ll remember this night with fondness? Or as just another part of our duty?" "I won’t pretend this isn’t strange, but… we’ve made it this far. Let’s take the rest one step at a time." "You don’t need to worry. Tonight will be whatever we choose it to be." "This is the part of marriage no one really talks about, isn’t it?" "There’s no rush. We’ve just the night and the rest of our lives ahead of us." "Are you sure you're comfortable with this? We can go slow if that’s what you prefer." "I’ve waited for this moment for so long, but now that it’s here… I don’t know where to begin." "There’s no need for fear. We’re in this together now, for better or worse." "I know you didn’t choose this marriage, but tonight… I hope we can find some common ground." "I never thought I’d say this, but I’m actually looking forward to this part of the wedding." "This night doesn’t have to be perfect. Just… ours." "I’ve been told what’s expected of us, but I’d rather we create our own expectations." "We’re alone now. No court, no family, just us. What do you want tonight to be?" "You look… beautiful. I know this isn’t easy, but I want you to know I’m here for you." "We’ve gone through the ceremony. Now comes the real challenge, doesn’t it?" "I hope you don’t expect too much from me tonight. I’ve never done this before." "No one ever told me how awkward a wedding night might be. Shall we just talk for a while?" "Tonight is about more than just obligation. I want this to mean something for both of us." "I’m not sure what happens next, but I’d like to figure it out together." "It’s just you and me now. No expectations, no pressure—just us." "Shall we make this night one to remember for something other than just duty?" "I know this is part of the marriage, but… I want you to know you have a choice in how it goes." "We can take our time. This night is ours, and no one else’s."

[loves-77]

You Are My Honey

*TW* Yandere, obsessive tones, mates, Bear hybrid, NOT PROOFREAD (Tell me if you notice anymore)

THIS IS MY FIRST STORY I HAVE EVER WRITTEN SO IGNORE ANY MISTAKES, I AM STILL TRYING TO FIND MY PERFERED WRITING STYLE!

TELL ME IF YOU WANT A SMUT PART 2!!

*One part of my story is inspired by a scene in another story I read, don't remember the author*

*Not My Picture*

What had the world become? You sit alone on your couch in a small little apartment you could barely afford, for what? To get up in the morning go to your job at the floral shop and make a couple bucks a day?? All alone because you don't have time to invest in a romance that would probably end after a month, because who would want to be with a 'workaholic' who only has time to stay at their job. All your friends got some husband or boyfriend or...... mate.

The subject of 'mates' confused you, hybrids are just now being accepted into society and now are 'mating' on people. With how many hybrids are finding their mates the government is passing a law allowing them to be with said mates. The thought scared you, maybe because you didn't know enough about it. Imagine going about your normal day and some random person, with ears or a tail, starts talking about how you are destined to be together. Scary, or romantic??

Finally getting out of your daydreaming you look at the clock and realize you are gonna be late for work if you don't leave this second. Running out the door, almost forgetting your bag, you rush downstairs and run down the street. You lived pretty close to the floral shop so it was easy for you to get there fast. Barley making it on time your boss gives you a long list of orders you have to prepare. Your day has officially started..

*Time skip*

After work you make it back to the apartment, dropping your keys in your tray and making a bee line to the couch. Your phone rings and you realize your best friend was asking if you were free. Once you text them you are you start getting ready. They didn't give you a lot of details but told you to dress casual.

They text you to meet them outside your apartment in 30 min and they were gonna pick you up. Getting ready you finally make it down the stairs and wait outside for her. Seeing her car pull up and her getting out you both greet each other. "You are gonna love it" she said, "I got invited to some party on the nice side of town, supposedly there is going to be a lot of nice, respectable men there!!!" Winking at you she started the car and started driving. "You know I am not looking for anyone right now, no one is gonna wanna be with me when I can barely go out. I mean I got lucky today and my boss let me off early!" "You might find someone who doesn't mind.... Or someone who makes some money, so you don't have to work as much." Both of you start laughing.

Finally making it to the house you guys pull into the drive way and a bunch of people walking around, inside and outside. "Is the house made of just glass" you question. "I guess it is the new thing with rich people, let everyone see your business" You both get out of the car, after parking it, and walk toward the entrance. Suddenly the both of you tense, realizing there weren't just humans at this party. Now you both don't have a problem with hybrids going into public places or having the same rights you have, but never being near one before and seeing their sharp teeth or ears freaked you both out.

You were the first one to relax a little, realizing they were just there to have fun, like everyone else. "I didn't know they were gonna be here sorry" your friend apologized. "It's OK, they are here just like us, no problems." You both walk in together and browse around to see who and what exactly was here.

A loud booming voice can be heard across the room. Everyone's heads turn towards the owner of the voice. You freeze in fear, or maybe just shock, you aren't quite sure. But you know for sure that the owner of that voice is not someone you want to cross paths with ever again.

He was ginormous with arms that could pick you up and throw you a mile away.... maybe even more than that. His shaggy honey brown hair draped around his face almost majestically. He smiled and you noticed his canines are pointier that anyone you have ever seen before.... wait, wait, wait. You could hit yourself for not noticing the round brown ears on the top of his head. That is why he is so much bigger than everyone in the room.... he is a grizzly bear hybrid.

You look to your friend in panic and notice she had the same look on her face. Grizzly bear hybrids are rare and tend to be more aggressive than other predator hybrids. You have never seen one before in person, you considered yourself lucky until now.

Finally zoning back in from your panic you realize that some non-hybrids share the same look as you and your friend do. Looking back over to the owner of the voice you catch his stare. Freezing up once again you can't look away from those... black eyes? or maybe they are a dark brown, you can't tell from the distance. Snapping out of your shock you realize he stops to... sniff.... no he can't be sniffing the air... can he?

Then realization hits you when he starts heading your way. You heard that hybrids could smell who their mate is, but it couldn't be. You can't possibly be his mate. Panic sets in again and you couldn't tell if you were overreacting, it couldn't be you he was heading towards. But still, you grab your friend's arm and bolt away before he could get close enough to start a conversation.

"What- Where are we going??" Your friend asks "We need to leave right no-" "WAIT, YOU IN THE (F/C) SHIRT!!" You could have sworn the ground shook with how loud his voice was. You don't freeze, now that you know for sure he was looking for you. "Is that-" You cut your friend off "We need to leave." She doesn't hesitate to grab her car keys from her pocket and catch up with your fast steps.

Looking behind you see the hybrid trying to make his way through the crowd. "WAIT, WAIT!!" He sounded so desperate, you almost felt bad if you still didn't feel the pit in your stomach. Looking ahead of you again, you both make it to the front door, storming out of the house and to the car. While your friend was starting it you both hear the front door slam open, turning your head to the side you see the hybrid rushing out. Your friend gets the car started and hits the gas to go forward. Looking back, you see him chasing the car with.... were those tears in his eyes? No, it couldn't be, he didn't even know you. Finally relaxing in your chair, you lay back and look at your friend and say, "I don't think I am going to go to a party with you for a while." Making eye contact you both start giggling. "I understand completely" she says in between her giggling.

*Time Skip*

You wake up with a raging headache, barley remembering what happened yesterday you groan and sit up. Then you pause as you remember who you saw and ran away from yesterday. A chill goes down your spine and you remember his smile with those pointed teeth. But you snap yourself out of it and say, "He didn't do anything wrong; I shouldn't be scared for no reason." But you can't shake the feeling of fear you felt when you saw him.

Getting out of bed you get ready for work, which you are supposed to be there in an hour. Changing into a cute shirt and jeans you make yourself your (Favorite breakfast). Once you finish your food, you grab your keys and head for the door. Getting in your car you start heading over to the floral shop. Entering the store was a whole dream, all the beautiful flowers and the addicting smells you can't help but smile. Making it to the back your boss greets you and gives you the orders to start the day.

A couple hours later you hear the door open and close, looking up to greet the customer you freeze. "Welc-...." Standing before you was the (at least 6'3) huge hybrid from yesterday. "I have been looking all over for you! Since you left so abruptly yesterday, I tracked down your scent and found you here! I was going to go to your apartment, but I thought that might have been too far." The smile on his face not disappearing, even after you didn't respond and just stared at him.

"You found me by my..... scent??" The sheer surprise you had confused him, his eyebrows furrowing. "Well of course honey, how else would I find you?" ..... Honey?!?!? Why is he calling you that?? Shaking the shock off you respond "Excuse me? I don't know you sir and I don't appreciate being called honey." If it could even be possible his eyebrows furrowed even more, before it looked like he realized something. "Oh dear! I forgot to introduce myself!! My names is Caleb, and I realize this might seem weird for you but... how do I word this.... well you are my mate!" The smile on his face grew 10 times when he said 'mate'

Chills rushed down your spine, and not the good kind. "Did you just say mates? No that can't be, I am sorry, but you have the wrong person." You almost felt bad as his face dropped, but you reminded yourself he basically stalked you to work! "But -" You cut him off, "I am really sorry and I wish you the best of luck finding who you are looking for." Tears started welling in his eyes.

"(Y/N)!" Turning around you see your boss, "Yes, sir?" "Come here right now!" Looking back at Caleb you quickly turn and rush to the backroom. "Wha-" You were cut off, "You need to leave, and take the b-bear with you!" "What si-" "LEAVE! You are gonna make business go down, so take him with you!" "Bu-" You were being shoved out of the room towards a very hopeful looking bear.

"You kids have fun!" Turning around the store door was closed in your face. Turning around to look at Caleb, you turn and start walking towards your car, keeping silent. "Wait!" Your arm was yanked backwards. "LET GO!" "No." He growled with a snarl on his face. "You are going to come with me so we can talk. Don't argue because you aren't going anywhere." Shutting your mouth, you start to walk with him, not wanting to be on his bad side. But you can't stop the small tingle you feel in the spot he touched.

He led you to a black car, opened the door, and gently pushed you inside. Once he got in, he started the car and got on the road. "Where are we going?" you managed to get out in a calm voice. Smiling over at you he replied, "Home of course." You had the feeling that it wasn't your house he was talking about.

*Time Skip*

It seemed like you had been in his car for hours, but it was just 30 minutes. Glancing over at him he seemed very content with a light smile on his face. You realize this might be because he finally has what he has waited his whole life for, his mate. Thinking back, you feel bad you just ran away from him and didn't even give him a chance to talk. Looking at his face you think he is very handsome, and you are surprised you didn't notice before. His jawline sharp, light freckles dusting his face, his shapely nose, and he had longer lashes then you did. "I hope you are pleased with how I look." His deep voice scared you out of your daze. Quickly looking away from you stare at the road ahead of you. Out of the corner of your eye you see him look towards you and say "You are so beautiful. So much better than what I imagined my mate to look like." You felt your cheeks heat up as you take a quick glance at him, luckily, he was looking back at the road.

Now going through an internal debate, you realize you don't feel scared anymore. It was almost like your body was relaxing after being with him and not fighting it. Trying to fight off the feelings you can't help but look over at him and say "Why am I feeling like this?" He glanced at you before turning his eyes back on the road. Looking concerned he said "Feeling like what? Are you feeling ill?" Sighing you say "No I don't feel sick but why do I feel comfortable with you? You basically just kidnapped me." You see a small smile making its way on his face, "It is because we are mates, you don't feel it as intensely as I do, since I have better senses than a normal human. But we were destined to be together it's only natural your body is reacting to my pheromones while your brain might be denying it." He suddenly reached a hand over and grabbed your hand. Tingles exploded everywhere just from that touch. You didn't move your hand away, even though you probably should have. Staring at your intertwined hands you couldn't help it, it just felt.... right.

Not even paying attention to the time anymore it takes you a quick second to realize the car stopped. Looking up you make eye contact with Caled. The smile on his face was so sweet you practically felt yourself melting, those dang pheromones. He turned and got out of the car, gently dropping your hand. You can't help but want to hold his hand again, even after everything. He opened the door for you, gently taking your hand again as you got out. As he went to pull his hand back you held on, refusing to let you go. You could see a big smile formed on his face as he looked at your hands.

Looking up you realize how far you must be from the city; you look at the beautiful cabin house, the log details, and the wrap around porch. The forest surrounding you was just as beautiful. Looking to the side of the house there is a small gravel pathway leading into the forest.

"Welcome to my home, well I guess it's ours now."

Looking at him, the sentence and you lightly pull your hand away from his. There is no way you are going to move in with him after just meeting him.... mates or not. A big frown formed on his face when you pulled away and hurt flashed in his eyes.

"I am not moving in with you. We just met! I don't appreciate being pushed into things. I know nothing about you, and you don't know anything about me."

Stepping back from him just a little. You see a change in his eyes, anger, or frustration? You are not completely sure.

Completely ignoring what you said before he continues on.

"My grandparents built this cabin when hybrids were still outcasts. Then it passed to my parents and now me. My parents built their own house further into the forest and decided I could have this house for my mate when I found her. No one knows about it."

Something flashed in his eyes when he said the last sentence. A chill ran down your spine and not a good one. You didn't like the implication of that at all. Your instincts were screaming to run and you couldn't fight your instincts. Not even giving your brain a chance to think, you bolted.

Running straight into the forest you curse yourself for not wearing running shoes to work today. You heard Caleb behind you shouting something, he sounded desperate and wounded. He sounded far enough away you know you surprised him by running. But you knew he would catch up to you eventually and you could hit yourself for not thinking about it before just bolting. There was a pain that you felt in your chest, but your adrenaline stopped the pain. You jumped over rocks and logs not wanting to slow down or trip. You could hear behind you Caleb was gaining on you and fast. Your legs burning you suddenly change routes. You hear a loud curse behind you and knew you shook him off your tail for just a second. That small victory didn't last long as the back of your shirt was yanked. Your back hitting a soft but solid chest.

You were absolutely winded while it seemed like he didn't even break a sweat. Looking at his face you shrink into yourself seeing a furious look. He had a snarl on his face and his eyebrows were furrowed together. You can't help but whimper slightly and you see sadness flash in his eyes just for a second before going back to anger.

"Where do you think you are going." He growled and you couldn't help but flinch at his tone.

"I was being nice and showing you my home, the one you are going to live in with me. I was going be nice and give you a week to stay at your house before moving in but after that stunt you pulled aren't ever going back."

"I'm sorry!" you practically cry out, shaking with fear. Turning around and grappling onto him, crying into his chest.

You couldn't explain it but the moment you ran it felt like your heart got torn out. But now, next to Caleb, the pain stopped.

"Why do I feel like this?!?!" Tears streaming down your face.

"Why do I want to be next to you so bad? Why did it hurt when I ran away!?"

You feel his muscular arms wrap around you and start rubbing your back. He started cooing and telling you it was ok, and he would explain later. His anger completely dissolving as he realized you felt the same pain he felt when you ran. Like someone just stabbed his heart out. Feeling yourself get picked up, you wrap your legs around his waist, stuffing your face in his neck, and wrapping your arms around the back of his head. You felt yourself calm almost instantly after putting your head in his neck. But the tears didn't stop even if you felt better.

"Let's get you back home, then we can clean up and eat something." He spoke so softly you almost wouldn't believe the anger he held in his voice not even 10 minutes ago.

Relaxing into his body you think to yourself, maybe it wouldn't be to bad if you just stayed with him.

[pageofheartdj]

One of the things I love to think about Lucifer being pregnant in radioapple is what kind of boom it can create in Hell.

Sinners are sterile, they can't have kids with each other, they can't have kids with hellborn. It's just dead end.

And then there is Lucifer who was able to make it fertile in himself because of his angelic powers. A sinner managed to have a biological child.

I just want to dissect this idea. I bet there are couples who would want to have kids if they could. Or just people who would want to have a child of their own. And suddenly there is a way. And that way is the literal King of Hell xD

Would there be anyone willing to approach him? What kind of rumours sinners would make to gossip about? How would they twist it? Not that Lucifer would ever agree, because fuck that and plus that's angelic heritage, aren't no way he is throwing it around like that xD (plus I hc Heaven doesn't like the subject of just creating powerful offsprings, even if the child from a sinner would not be as powerful as a child from a demon like Lilith, they still would be powerful)

I also love thinking how Alastor would feel about it all.

Lucifer is understandable, the guy doesn't care about others and/or reputation, if anyone voices their displeasure he can nuke them xD(not in double death Char-Char) Especially after he gains back healthy support system where he doesn't feel like hiding from the world anymore. He wants to be once again openly proud of himself. But if Alastor wouldn't want to announce anything, he would comply.

But HOW will Alastor feel about it? Would he want to brag about it, having powerful connections, the very top, having a say in Hell's future, that's not something anyone can get. But also he views emotional connections as weakness, so would he want to keep it hidden? It's not exactly a blow to his reputation when he is still an extremely ruthless Overlord who can back his bark up with bite, but the king IS emotionally vulnerable and a way to avoid blind spots is never announce there can be any.

And then when it comes to the child. How much more vulnerable the king will become during the pregnancy? What kind of damage can be done to him and the unborn? And after the birth? It's not like Lucifer can hide another heir forever, and hiding the other parent can be twisted into more lies. Again, not that Alastor can't shut them all up(even with Charlie's displeasure), but this is politics, there are risks Alastor can't afford. So whaaaat he will do? Announce and up all defenses?? Bragging for sure but more tactical, without making more willing to attack enemies?

[yeliuxi]

A silly little stylized mastermind rogue Jing Beiyuan sketch for @mscutellatus! Thanks for your prompt for @danmei-action <3 (Whoops there is a typo but I am ignoring it)

Full text transcription below the cut

Jing Qi. Given a second chance at his first lifetime of fated love, Jing Qi possesses invaluable foreknowledge and insight. He's clever and scheming, but can't afford to let anyone know this secret. Instead, the Prince Nanning is content to laze about when he can, and has earned an indulgent and carefree reputation.

With the obsessions of his previous six lives put behind him, Jing Qi is eager to secure the throne for the Crown Prince. The imperial court of Great Qing is dangerous, but Jing Qi works diligently behind the scenes (when he's not napping), and is determined to succeed.

Stat block.

Armor class: 13 (leather armor) / Hit points: 53 (10d8+10) / Speed: 30 ft.

STR 8 (-1). DEX 14 (-2). CON 10 (+0). INT 17 (+3). WIS 14 (+2). CHA 18 (+4).

Evasion. Oh, you want Jing Qi to make a DEX saving throw for half damage? He'll pass. If he succeeds he takes 0 damage, and half if he fails. Yeah. Serves you right for trying.

Insightful Manipulator. Interact with Jing Qi for 1 minute outside of combat at your own risk. He can learn whether you're his equal, superior, or inferior in any two of your INT, WIS, CHA scores, or class levels (if any).

Sneak Attack. When Jing Qi has advantage, or when Wuxi is within 5 feet of his target, he deals an extra 17 (5d6) damage. How battle couple of them.

Actions. Crossbow. Ranged Weapon Attack: +6 to hit, 80/320 range, one target. Hit: 7 (1d6+2) piercing damage. (Sorry, he meant to hit you, not the other guy…)

Bonus Actions. Cunning Action. On each turn, Jing Qi can take the Dash, Disengage, or Hide action as a bonus action. Hey, he can be efficient when he wants to be…

Master of Tactics. Jing Qi can use the Help action as a bonus action. When using the Help action to aid Wuxi in an attack, the target of the attack can be within 30 feet, instead of 5.

Reactions. Uncanny Dodge. When an attacker Jing Qi can see hits him with an attack, Jing Qi can use his reaction to halve the attack's damage. Don't get the jump on him easily. Once/rest.

[democratthatlovesguns]

Can delusion become a sexually transmitted disease? (A Case Study of the Former First Family)

*Absolutely Nobody*

Melania: Why is everyone obsessed with my nude modeling?

Oh, honey, nobody gives a shit about your nude photos. You're old news ... In modeling terms, you're as old as the balls you had to drain to get the "station" you wanted in life.

Maybe, just maybe, there may be some people that are obsessed. Mainly, it's your son's college classmates that are obsessed; if my math is correct, and it is, they would be around 11 to 14 years-old, eight years ago ... And they very likely grew up in republican households. I'm sure they were constantly discouraged from masturbating at all, but blowing a load over one of your nude images must have been "okay," because boys will be boys, right?

Only brainless assholes will fall for the bullshit you and that criminal minds episode you call your husband are selling.

Unfortunately, for you, most of us see right through it: the GOP is running scared. Their voter suppression attempts are failing miserably, MANY THANKS TO TAYLOR SWIFT! Republicans that once swallowed really hard to be able to tolerate Donald Trump, cannot swallow their integrity and their values any longer and have endorsed Kamala Harris - even though they disagree with her politically, at least they know there's not a single day in her presidency that she would want to "be a dictator for a day" (or even one second).

So what does the GOP/MAGA base have left? Their bread and butter: 1) racists assholes and 2) misogynist assholes.

Your hubby has definitely regained the support of his former Nazi/Proud Boys following with his blatant racism against Haitians. But only you can give misogynist assholes the illusion that if they vote for Donald Trump, they too could be "winners" and be able to one day afford some hot young European pussy.

You're not fooling anyone sweetheart. Your nude modeling was never about art. It was about enticing a rich American to propose marriage. Congratulations, you got what you wished for! Now, have a seat, your tits are showing.

[pleasantspark]

Did you notice how Viv pretty much lets her Twitter fans write her show for her? The upcoming vassago story where (Stolas chooses his imperfect soulmate over the perfect prince!~) is the plot of season 3 has been written out by fans, and spoiled multiple times by Vivzie liking (confirming) tweets and responding with smiling faces.

And patreon spoiled season 2s finale, Hazbin is said to be mostly comprised of confirmed fan theories.

What is this? If I wanted fanfic I’d go read that.

Watch as when we point out how she's using her fans again we're being "unsupportive" of Vivzie's Interactions with her fans, if I knew better she's just a hack who leeches off the creativity of her Fans.

This was probably her move, she did all that for Hazbin Season One and didn't know what else because she "crammed" all the good shit that would be better in later seasons.

Rebecca Sugar was called out for using the PD/RQ Theory, there was no proof she saw or even interacted with it, other than the fact that people were mad, pretty sure the reveal was on her own anyways.

But here is Viv confirming SHE DID SEE everything.

Fans worked for her in the past and NEVER receieved credit.

Lets see if she gives credit for using unpaid fans ideas.

I'm saying, if you're willing to write yourself or even hire a Ghost Writer to do that shit for you, then you suck ass and you're a fraud. I do all my work for BiblicallyInaccurate (Atleast on the writing side) and not once did I reach out to anyone because I am a one woman Indie Project and cannot afford basic shit like VivziePop can, Indie Animation/Creators can struggle while ViviziePops like "LET THEM ANIMATE FRAMES!"

She's the Marie Antionette of "Indie" Animation. Istf.

[creationofthecourtesan]

okay, i'm actually going to justify elaborate because if anyone else feels this way, i want them to know that it's okay and they're not alone.

i'm going to have a season of vanity because i've never had one. there was never a time in my life where i could primarily focus on myself. the times in my life where i should've been learning about makeup techniques, or hair styles or skin products, i never did because i was too busy taking care of other people and other people's children.

and while we wouldn't have been able to afford a lot of the products that i wanted anyway, even more so i was raised around women that didn't show a big interest in skin care, makeup, etc so they couldn't understand why i was showing such an interest in it.

but i honestly think they were secretly into it and other forms of traditional female "grooming" and adornment but for whatever reason, they didn't feel as if they were worthy of or deserved it so they acted as if they weren't interested in it.

but that's a post for another day about generational self-limiting beliefs.

because i'm going to have my season of vanity.

i want to be beautiful.

i want to turn heads.

i want jaws to drop.

i want people to not be able to speak in coherent sentences when they first meet me because my beauty is just that captivating. just that mesmerizing.

i want to have that level of beauty.

damn near other-worldly.

i am not happy with the way i look.

and i know that is almost an unaccepted phrase to say in this day and age of "body positivity/acceptance"

but it's not going to change my truth or how i feel on the inside.

and i'm not going to pretend or try to force myself to accept something if i can actually change and that change will make me feel better.

i'm not going to lie to myself. and ignore how i feel every time i look in the mirror.

it's naïvety at best and delusional at worst.

instead i'm going to have my season of vanity.

[solar-sunnyside-up]

Hey, I’m sorry to dump this on ya but your blog gives me a lotta hope and I just wondered if you had anything to say to my current ails- I am but a very anxious teen and I am so scared. I see so many people talking of how the world “Will end in 2040” or how “damn the past was so much better because it was simpler” and I am lowkey starting to believe that. I’ve got a problem with romanticizing a past I wasn’t even a part of and I really don’t want to live in some awful dystopian future and I fear I’ve missed out on so much because of when I was born :( and how come no one can afford basic shit anymore? I don’t wanna have no money at all! I really would like to be happy in the future but with all the bullshit caused by social media and the lack of money it seems bleak. I’m sorry that this is such a negative ask but I am not doing so hot and was hoping you’d have an insight ? Don’t respond if you don’t wanna

Hey ya there sprout 🌱 it can be really tough out there!

Your feelings are valid, so valid in fact that those exact feelings are why Solarpunk as it currently exists is around! We've all been there!

Between the wages of the top 10% of ppl vs everyone else being greater then during the French revolution, the average citizen globally being worse off then when the great depression was happening, climate crisis after crisis, all while consuming endless bits of info both horrifying (ex Politics) and hopeful (ex Social Media activism) it's waaaay too much for anyone to bare alone! Much less constantly! That burden shouldn't be on any of us!! But since it is, I'm here to help at least lighten the load even if temporary.

The best thing to do when we feel like this is to stop. Find 5 minutes to be still. We are fight/flight/fawn creatures and we will only loop in our solutions without actual clear choices if we don't Chill Out. We're mammals our natural state is Chilling Out and Play.

Next, think about how cool the planet is and particularly how cool humans are?

How there's finger flutes on ceilings thousands of years old, smaller then average indicating that parents held their children up to draw on the ceilings.

Think about the invention of looms and spinning fibers! What other creature could do that? Think about the kids that could build Snowmans without aching fingers because of lovingly knit mittens.

We sing like whales do, like birds do, like wolves do, and we do it to share stories and ideas over food! It is the first things babies mimic! We have songs so old we no longer know their origin just that they came from love! We even have songs to herd cattle meaning music transcends just us but bleeds into our relationships with the planet!

That we have play behavior! Just like wolves and foxes and whales and octopus it is so built into our DNA to play its generally how we learn things! This ranges from agriculture (children tossing seeds around, blowing on dandelions!) To chores (parachute games > folding laundry, playing pretend > usually chores/job based) to hunting (tag! Hide and seek!)

Think about our interconnectiveness with the planet too, how we are guided by Honey guides to find abandoned hives to share in the spoils of bread and honey. How Sweetgrass needs us to flourish, how berries and nuts need us to spread across the land, how we fix other animals broken bones and beaks and help them return home when otherwise they wouldn't ever get home.

Now that you can remember we deserve to be here, that you deserve to be here. We can look at the current situation and bare it.

And we do that by doing small things. Jam out and listen to music while picking up litter on your block, go to a library and just hang out or research something you love, make seed Bombs and toss them I to abandoned lots, make silly cartoons. Whatever it is, it will be enough.

The weight of the world isn't ment for the individual no matter how much Capitalism and Elites will try and guilt you over their failures. That weight is ment for collective groups, but your job as a Person is to be happy where you can and to be kind so others can be happy. The last thing that I always keep in my heart is a quote from my fave author Ursula Le Guin:

Hang in there, a brighter tomorrow is gunna happen. I promise 🌻

[storiesbyjes2g]

3.170 One more thing

I probably should have waited to have the next conversation, but I figured since we were getting everything in the open, we may as well discuss finding a new house. Besides, she said she missed talking, right? Autumn in San Sequoia is beautiful. It's refreshingly cool in the mornings, and evenings, and warm during the day. I suggested we take Desi and hang out in our side yard for a bit. A little while ago, I packed up the yoga mats I had out there and set up a nice outdoor chill spot. It's clear I'm not gonna achieve my yoga dreams, if you can even call them that. We weren't using the space, so I turned it into something we will definitely use. Since Desiree will be walking soon, I'll have to get her some toys and things out here. But for now, she can take a nap under the sun in the fresh air while Sophia and I talk business.

It was a little cool, so Sophia lit a fire to keep the baby warm. I let us enjoy the weather and silence for a few moments before bringing up Alessia's conversation.

"So, ummm, after the memorial, Less told me she wants to move."

"Oh! That's great. So she's gonna live in your dad's house then?"

"No."

"Oh. So you're gonna help her find a place?"

"Yes, but not exactly what you're thinking."

She gave me that "Watcher, here we go," face, and I knew I had to sweeten this deal even before I presented it.

"Dub and Maia live in a duplex. They live on one side and rent out the other. I think a situation like that will be ideal for us. Less will be right next door if something happens. We'll share a backyard so the kids can grow up and play together. It's perfect for us. And if Less ever wants to move out, we can rent it to another family and have another stream of income. It's a win win for all of us."

"Wait," she said. "You want us to move? We just got here!"

"True, but things change. It's no big deal. We'll still be in San Sequoia. Just another neighborhood."

"But I love it here," she said. "We spent so much time and money making it our own. Luca, you proposed to me here! I gave birth here! This is my home!"

Sometimes I forget Sophia lived in one place for a long time. Plus, she's a lot more sentimental than I am. This house is the sixth home I've lived in. Moving is no big thing to me, even though this particular home is special to me too. I dreamed about living here; I longed for it. But life hasn't turned out how we thought it would, so my priorities are different now. While I could accomplish my goals perfectly from here, I'd be more at ease somewhere else.

"I understand. We've had lots of great memories here. And I know you're concerned about me being too involved in Less' life, but I think the best way to minimize my time away from home is to have her as close as possible. I promised Mama I'd look after her, Sophia."

She let out a looooong sigh and sat in silence for a bit. I wanted to know what went on in her head, but I knew I needed to let her work it out within herself first, so I waited until she was ready to continue.

"What about this house? What will happen to it?"

I honestly wasn't too keen on selling it. I worked really hard to get it, and I didn't want anyone else to enjoy the fruit of my labor.

"We'll keep it," I said, hoping we'll be able to afford to buy a new house without selling this one. "Less won't need us so close forever. This duplex situation is just temporary, so we can come back here when it's over. Maybe we'll rent it out while we're gone."

Sophia winced at that idea.

"Or it can just sit here until we come back," I said.

She nodded and sighed.

"I don't want to move," she said. "I don't think it's necessary. But everything you said makes sense. I do want Desi to be close to her cousins. The thought of her having easy access to them sounds nice. And I know how much you love your sister."

"Thank you. I'm sorry we have to leave here, but I really do think this will be good for all of us."

[chaotic-orphan]

Intoxicating Fear (XXV)

Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing (part II)

Read part one // masterpost // continued from here

I’m not happy with the last part, but I am too tired to edit it so voila,

~*~*~*~*~*~

“Where are we going?” Ambrose grumbled, the cling of glass on stone crunching under their shoes as they walked, Nathan a step in front of Ambrose as it was before. Always leading Ambrose, Ambrose always following. It made him feel a little sick, like nothing had changed between them, like no time had passed in the last five years since Ambrose established himself for himself. How he didn’t answer to anyone anymore.

And yet here he was, following, again.

Because Kit’s life is in danger, the rational voice told him. You’re not following because you want to.

But one look at the swirling silver eyes and Ambrose was magnetised, trapped under Nathan’s spell again. He knew it, Nate knew it. He wasn’t a hero trying to save Kit, he was just Oskar, Nathan’s shadow. Nathan turned his head to smile at Ambrose, exposing his boyish dimples despite being older than Ambrose.

“You’ll see, won’t you? It’s about the journey, Oskar, not the destination.”

Ambrose swallowed, clenching his jaw and forcing himself to stare ahead as Nathan led them through the tight building packed streets that loomed like giants on either side of Fagan’s lot. most of them were abandoned, or closed for business indefinitely. Some sad, stale “Everything must go” signs lingered in some of the windows that weren’t smashed or bordered up.

It tugged a bit at Ambrose’s cold, dead heart. Fagan’s lot was where Max and Ambrose had shopped because it was cheap, extremely cheap. He remembered Lucy’s grocers, and how Max used to drool as he walked by the fresh fruit and vegetables, and long for them when he was unwrapping microwave pizza for the fifth day in a row because their oven was broken and they couldn’t afford to fix it.

“I want watermelon, Oskar,” he whined.

Ambrose smiled at him, hiding the bill from their landlord for noise complaints, something Ambrose would deal with later. “Payday is in four days. We’re almost there,” he said.

That Friday, when Max got his paycheque, Ambrose came home after his commute to see Max standing proudly in the kitchen. He grabbed the edge of a tea towel and yanked it away with a flourish like a magician, revealing the biggest watermelon Ambrose had ever seen. Max grinned widely, flashing his teeth like a beaming toddler.

“I got the big one.”

“I can see that.” Ambrose said with a nod. Max brandished a serrated knife, licking his lips as he leaned close and took a giant sniff of the watermelon.

“Uggghh, smell that Oskar? That’s the smell of money right there.” Ambrose laughed as Max started to cut into it. The sweet, sticky smell pungent in their small apartment, but Max looked so stupidly happy that Ambrose couldn’t help grin himself. “How much do you want?”

“A slice?”

“You can’t have just a slice,” Max bemoaned, the knife sliding through the watermelon wetly. Ambrose walked around the counter and placed his briefcase on the table, loosening his tie and unbuttoning his top two buttons.

“Okay, two slices,” he said, watching as the pink flesh of the fruit fell like sheer fillet mignon, the red juice running like blood over Max’s fingers. Max cut two large circles and cut them in half, putting two on Ambrose’s plate and two on his own. “Bon appétit.”

Max moaned into the first bite, slapping his free hand on the table in passion. “Augh! That’s so good! So worth the wait. Fuck me!”

Max sniffed, and Ambrose met his eyes over the watermelon. “Are you crying?”

“No,” Max said too quickly, wiping his eye with the back of his hand. “Some juice just got in my eye.”

Now, as they walked past Lucy’s grocers, the bright yellows and reds of the plastic baskets of fruit were smashed out front, a metal shutter down with graffiti adorning it instead of fresh fruit. Ambrose ignored it as he walked by, lest Nathan notice — because he always noticed — what it meant to him.

“How do you know, Jude?” Ambrose tried instead.

Nathan raised his brows as if he was about to say something dirty, or let out a startled laugh of disbelief. Ambrose swallowed.

“Why? Jealous, Osk?”

“Don’t call me that.”

Nathan plumped out his bottom lip, the rosey pink getting lighter the more he protruded it into a pout. “You can still call me Nate, if you want.”

“I don’t want to call you anything,” Ambrose ground out through clenched teeth. “I don’t want to be this close to you.”

The words had only left Ambrose’s lips before Nathan’s hands were on him slamming him into the opposite wall of the narrow street, deft hand wrapped around the base of his throat. Nathan smiled down at Ambrose who didn’t have to fight to keep the blush off his face, remaining the cool, pale statue that Kit so often likened him too in his head.

“How about this close?” Nathan said, his voice the shape of an angel’s wings; soft, light, majestic, but behind it held great power to exact divine retribution on devils, demons and humans who strayed too close.

“This makes it worse,” Ambrose said, happy that his voice remained even, though his index finger twitched at his sides. Mercury swirling eyes regarded him with a twisted mischief, the corners tugging up into smiles themselves.

Nathan looked at Ambrose the same way a lion would a gazelle, but Ambrose wasn’t the same man he was when him and Nathan were together. He wasn’t poor little Oskar anymore, who shared secrets with Nathan in the early hours of the morning, secrets they swore to take the grave, secrets like Ambrose’s parents that Nathan revealed to Max just to fuck with him.

Nathan’s fingers trailed up, pinching Ambrose’s chin between his thumb and index finger and tilting his head a little higher so he could feel Nathan’s warm breath on his lips, the smell of cigarette smoke and ash fanning his face.

“And how about now?” He asked his voice a tempting whisper, half-lidded silver eyes positively feasting at Ambrose’s stoic expression, looking for the tell, the give. Ambrose had buried them years ago. “Come on, Osk, you can’t tell me you don’t feel this. You and me, we’re meant to be together. You know it, I know it. We can be like we were.”

Nathan tilted his own head so their noses wouldn’t touch as he leaned in closer until his lips brushed Ambrose’s when he spoke. “Don’t you miss it? Don’t you miss us? Don’t you miss me?”

Ambrose’s heart raced in his chest. When Nathan looked at him like that, Ambrose feared that he could read his mind instead of the other way around. Not that Ambrose could ever read Nathan’s stupid mind with his stupid gift and his enchanting eyes. But there was an eerie stillness to it, an intensity that Ambrose couldn’t deny and never felt with someone else. Despite his many attempts of dating after Nate, there was no comparison to the silver eyed devil and that terrified him.

He could do it, he realised, his pulse throbbing in his neck against his throat. He could lean up and kiss Nathan and they could go back to how they were. Nathan was waiting, waiting for Ambrose to make the move, to accept him again. To submit and return to being Nathan’s favourite thing. Ambrose had no doubt Nathan loved him, in his own twisted way, but it wasn’t about Nathan and his love. It was about Ambrose, and he hated the person he was when he was with Nathan.

The shell he became.

Ambrose leaned on his toes, hand sliding up Nathan’s side to his neck. Cigarette breath hitched against Ambrose’s face and he smirked. He slammed his palm up against Nathan’s chin and shoved him back with an easy strength.

Nathan stumbled back, silver eyes flashing with malice and pain as his hand went to cup his lip.

“Ow! You made me bite my tongue,” he whined.

Ambrose smiled, sliding a hand into his jacket pocket when he saw a flash of red stain Nathan’s white teeth.

He lifted one shoulder in a half shrug. “Maybe you shouldn’t invade people’s personal space, then,” Ambrose said coolly, black eyes on Nathan’s.

Nathan huffed out a breath through his nose, straightening, his brows lowering over his eyes casting shadows on his quicksilver gaze, darkening them to the colour of gunmetal. Dangerous, powerful, scathing.

He let out a soft hmph of disapproval. “Maybe you have changed, Osk.”

“Maybe,” Ambrose said without missing a beat. Then they were walking again, Nathan still leading, though now with a wired tension in his shoulders, something stiff that wound and unwound and Ambrose wanted so desperately to peak inside his brain and see what he was feeling. To know what to expect.

Then they turned down a side street off the main path of Fagan’s lot and Ambrose stopped walking despite himself. Nathan stopped too, a few steps ahead of him and glanced back over his shoulder, a smirk in his eyes and a knowing smile on his lips.

“Something wrong?”

Ambrose remembered Max telling him that Benny was having trouble yesterday, that he should check on him before he leaves. Benny who lived in the apartment across from them in Old Town. A fast friend because of his jolly, wholesome exuberance, always making them smile and bringing over beers on Summer nights for them to go to the roof and hang out.

Benny’s tailors was on the street.

Ambrose’s eyes narrowed. “Where are we going?”

“To see an old friend,” Nathan replied.

“Why?” Ambrose asked, his hands tightening into fists in his pockets.

Nathan let out a breath of a laugh, turning his body towards Ambrose and walked towards him, into his personal space again which forced Ambrose to tilt his head up a little to keep his heavy gaze.

Nathan placed a warm hand on Ambrose’s cheek. On reflex Ambrose’s hand twitched up to smack him away, but Nathan’s words stopped him. “Ah, ah, ah, Oskar. Behave. I still have your hero friend locked away safely with Jude, so you’re going to do as I say.”

“And if I don’t?” Ambrose snapped.

Nathan’s eyes tracked Ambrose’s, observing his steeled expression and annoyance. Nathan ran a thumb over Ambrose’s bottom lip, chilling his blood as he stiffened despite himself.

“I have to check in every ten minutes with Jude or he gets to do whatever he likes to the heroes,” Nathan said.

Ambrose frowned. Heroes? As in more than Kit? Does he know who Kit is?

“See, that’s the Oskar I want. The sweet, pliant thing, the one whose heart raced when I got this close.”

“When did you last check in?” Ambrose demanded.

Nathan hmphed again, silver eyes swirling with glee. “At Max’s, while I waited for you two to kiss and make up.”

“Oh bullshit, you wanted us to fight.”

Nathan’s lips broke into a grin, a flash of teeth. “Okay, yeah. Maybe I did, but the fact remains. That was maybe, what, two-three minutes ago? So do you want to waste time being a brat, or, are you going to come with me and do everything I say to save your friend?”

Ambrose felt a tug in his chest. He wasn’t affected by Nathan anymore. He wasn’t. The only reason he was going through this fucking charade is because of Kit, who a few months ago, meant nothing to him. Why was he doing this? Why was he risking his neck for this kid? His sanity?

Ambrose’s shoulders dropped. Nathan stepped away, eyes gleaming as he turned and walked to the tailors at the end of the street. The shop’s trim was wooden, painted a royal blue, striking from far away, something to catch your eye and it did. Red lettering protruded from the black crown sign above the door, that read: Bespoke Elegance.

Nathan leaned against the wooden detail next to the door, grinning at Ambrose, he inclined his head for Ambrose to go first. Ambrose glared at him but wordlessly obeyed.

For Kit, he told himself. For Max. This would be fine. Everything would be fine.

The bells had only tingled open when a shot rang out and Ambrose’s eyes went wide as a nub of metal stopped so close to his left eye that it watered from the pressure. Behind the bullet at the counter stood Lyra; as lethal as she was pretty. The shell fell to the ground with a clatter and she lowered the pistols, relief washing over her taut features.

“Oskar,” Lyra said, the lilt of her voice musical.

“Well I’ll be fucked,” Lyra said, shifting her weight on her legs but not dropping either pistol from her hands, keeping them trained on Ambrose’s body. “Ghosts still walk the Earth.”

“Maybe I’m an angel, come to rescue you.”

“Or a demon in disguise as one,” Lyra replied easily, tilting her head to the side, exposing her long, lean neck that led into her beautiful collar bones and shoulders.

Lyra Sinclair was the only woman Ambrose would ever consider marrying. She knew she was too good for him, and would probably shoot him if he ever tried to ask. Her hair was in a different style every time he saw her, which regrettably was too little. She was as close to a Goddess that Ambrose had ever come, with olive skin and warm features. Though she had a foul mouth, cursing like a sailor, and still hadn’t lost her posh English accent despite herself.

“What are you doing here, Oskar?” She asked, raising a perfect brow. As if on cue the door behind Ambrose opened, and Lyra trained one pistol one the crack in the door. Her eyes narrowed like cat’s, dangerous, lethal. “Who are you with?”

Ambrose raised his hands, trying to calm her. “Lyra, I can explain.”

“No need, Osk, darling, just tell her to drop the guns.”

Ambrose stiffened, silently hoping that Lyra would just shoot Nathan through the doors, but she trained both pistols back to Ambrose, and now his hands went up in surrender, trying to show her he meant no harm.

“If you open your mouth, Oskar I swear to fuck I will kill you where you stand.”

“Lyra, please,” Ambrose said, risking a step forward. “I don’t want to compel you.”

“Why’re you with him?!” She demanded. “How do you even know each other? Do you know what he is?!”

The worry pulled her features across her face, stretching them wide, exposing the whites of her eyes and wrinkle lines on her forehead.

“Tick, tock, Osk. I’m not texting Jude until I’m inside.”

Ambrose stared pleadingly at Lyra, but her hazel eyes didn’t leave his, her chest rising and falling with a gasp. “You know Jude?” She demanded incredulously, her grip tightening on the weapons. “Are you working with them?”

“No!” Ambrose cried, stepping forward again. “Lyra, please, he has my friend and he’s going to let Jude do whatever the fuck he wants with him if he doesn’t text him in the next five minutes.”

Desperate black eyes met fiery hazel across the shop floor. “Please,” Ambrose said, his voice barely above a whisper.

He didn’t get her answer. A toilet flushed somewhere in the back, the sound of rushing water and a door was thrown open behind the red velvet curtain that was pushed outside, metal hooks squeaking and then a wide grin. Ambrose swallowed thickly.

A hulk of a man finely dressed in a chequered navy suit and burgundy silk shirt stepped out from behind the curtain, bending to get through the door before standing to his full height of a giant, taller than Ambrose, hell, taller than Nathan who was 6’4.

The fine suit did its best to hide the muscled torso beneath, but when Benny spread his arms, his stubble lined jaw spread open into a grin.

“Well, well, well, Oskar Fucking Ambrose. You giant cunt. Where’ve you been?”

“C’mere,” Benny gruffed, his footsteps like buckshots in the store. Benny was double the width of Ambrose, and a good head taller which made Ambrose mortally terrified of the man, especially because Benny was simultaneously the biggest, and sweetest, man he had ever met. And a hugger.

Ambrose groaned when he felt his bones crack under Benny’s tight hug, the giant man lifting Ambrose from his feet as if he were a child.

“God. It has been too long, old friend.” Benny said with a hearty laugh and a meaty fisted thump to Ambrose’s back. “We love to see you, brother.”

Benny said, his Ukranian accent choking in the middle of brother, making it sound like broo-der. Benny’s real name was Irakliy, but he told Ambrose when he arrived in the country that your stupid people couldn’t pronounce it, eh? They heard ‘ee’ sound and call me Freddie, I mishear and call me Benny. Name stick in brain like a Kesha song.

“Not today you don’t,” Lyra ground out, a muscle in her jaw ticking.

Benny frowned at her then at Ambrose. Ambrose feared the result of the exchange he was about to have, but he couldn’t not say anything.

Then Nathan chimed in: “three minutes, Oskar.”

Benny’s expression dropped. Ambrose could feel the adrenaline spike in his body as Benny glanced at the door, then at Ambrose, then back at the door. When he looked back at Ambrose again, blue eyes darkened and despite Ambrose’s protests Benny grabbed him by the throat and pile-drove him backwards into one of the viewing mirrors for fittings, the glass cracking against Ambrose’s back.

The wind was stolen from him with a silent gasp, both his hands finding Benny’s and trying to pry his fingers off his throat unsuccessfully. Benny growled in the back of his throat, leaning down so he could get in Ambrose’s slowly blueing face.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t snap your neck like a twig.”

Benny, he tried in his mind, his brain screaming as pounding headache formed from the pressure in his skull, his brain screaming for oxygen, please. Let me exp—

Ambrose didn’t think, he was panicking as his vision darkened at the edges and without meaning to boomed out a command:

Benny, LET GO!

Benny’s fingers sprung open like a coiled spring being released and Ambrose hit the ground, his cheek hitting off the edge of the fitting platform as Benny cried out.

Ambrose gasped, pushing himself up instinctively and reached to Lyra’s mind, tying the wires in her brain together and unplugging her powers before he fell again.

“Two minutes, Oskar!” Nathan sang and Ambrose groaned. He muttered, don’t move, aloud and waited until both Benny and Lyra went stiff before calling Nathan in.

Nathan stepped through the door, poking his head around first and glancing at Lyra before his face broke out into a smile and he stepped inside fully.

“Morning,” he drawled with a happy sigh as Ambrose managed to prop himself up against the wall. He reached behind his head at the bump that was forming and his fingers came away sticky and wet. Fuck. He blinked, the world dizzy in front of him.

FUCK! He didn’t want to have to do that. Fucking Nathan knew exactly what he was doing making himself known before Ambrose had a chance to explain. Ambrose glared at his stupid, gorgeous ex who pulled his phone from his jeans pocket and held it up, waving it at Ambrose’s face.

“Just in time, babe.” Then he typed away on it, positively eating up the attention in the room. Ambrose tipped his head back, chin to the ceiling up at Benny. His eyes zeroed in on the red and purple bruises on Benny’s swollen hand, and realised sickly that his compulsion did that.

“Benny… your hand…”

“Save it, Amber-ose.” Benny spat. The dip between Benny’s thumb and middle finger had split from the force of Ambrose’s compulsion, steadily dripping blood onto the varnished wooden floor.

“I’m not with him,” Ambrose protested, pushing himself up a little and trying to get to his feet, but the world spun and he fell again, sliding down until his arse hit the ground. “He has… he’s—”

“He said this arsehole has his friend captive,” Lyra said, hazel eyes cutting from Nathan’s face to Ambrose’s. Angry, but believing. She believed him, though he doubted he would be spared a bullet if he let her move. “Said that creep Jude is watching him and if he doesn’t do what he says, he’ll let Jude kill him.”

Benny’s blue eyes turned down, drooping at the sides. “I’m sorry, brother,” Benny said. “You are in as much as the rest of us.”

“Now that we’re all caught up to speed,” Nathan said, clapping his hands together. The sound was like a bullet through Ambrose’s brain. “How about we get down to business?”

“What is your business?” Ambrose demanded, practically spitting his words. All he could think about was Max telling him that Benny was in some trouble, that Max was worried about him. Is Nathan the problem?

Christ, he couldn’t think straight, his brain blurry. Fucking Jude and this hangover and Max’s punches, now Benny’s blows, he was shocked he wasn’t unconscious yet, probably concussed. Maybe, definitely concussed.

Benny frowned, eyes on Ambrose, still frozen. “You don’t know?”

Ambrose frowned, the motion too difficult to convey so he flattened his face, holding his head and stifling a moan. If Ambrose thought of it, he could dip into Benny’s mind and read the message he was storing, roaring, trying to let Ambrose hear, but Ambrose was too focused on staying awake.

“Benny,” Nathan said, his tone dipping low in warning. “Naughty, naughty. Don’t you remember what I can do to you?”

Ambrose shut his eyes tight, planting his hand on the ground and pushing himself up. He had to grip the podium for the fittings and push himself all the way, stumbling back into the mirror when he got to his feet.

Black eyes unfocused, glazed over and swimming with colour, but he tried to focus on Nathan.

“What’re you saying, Nathan? Why are we here?”

Nathan smiled again Ambrose. Its effect was like an avalanche of cold, mountains of snow threatening to bury Ambrose under the weight of it, sending tremors of terror down his spine.

His mind screaming at him to notice something he was missing. To see what was right in front of him. His blood rushed in his ears as he took a step forward, silently releasing Benny in his mind: you can move freely. The effect was too much for Ambrose to bear, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as if someone had just switched off his power.

Benny stood taller, and he turned to Ambrose, catching him before his head smacked off the wood, but it didn’t matter. The darkness swallowed Ambrose, Nathan’s voice speaking in the background as he submitted to unconsciousness.

*~*~*~*~*

Ambrose woke in a car, sprawled out in the backseat. He groaned as the light assaulted his senses. Fuck. His head was pounding, and he let out a soft groan.

“Oh, you’re awake sleepyhead?” Ambrose’s eyes shot open, his heart seizing in his chest. Nathan. He forgot. Why were they in a car? What happened to Benny? “You should try and get back to sleep, Osk. We’ll be there soon.”

“Where?” Ambrose ground out, the words rattling his skull and agitating his head.

Nathan’s swirling eyes met Ambrose’s in the rearview. “To Kit. That’s where you wanted to go, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“So that’s where we’re heading.”

“What did you do to Benny?”

Nathan chuckled. It was as if he had shot a bolt of metal through Ambrose’s spinal cord, freezing him as the metal scraped off bone. “You didn’t hear?”

“I was kind of unconscious for it,” Ambrose said tightly. Nathan’s eyes were back on the road, but it didn’t make him feel any less observed. Any less seen. The same nagging thing pulled at his mind like a child trying to get their parents attention.

Nathan chuckled again, this time lighter. “I suppose you were. But he was thinking very loud, Oskar. I’m surprised you didn’t hear.”

“Hear what?” Ambrose asked, pushing himself to sit up in the backseat, the world tilting around him. He felt like he was going to throw up. Nathan met his gaze in the rearview again and only then did Nathan’s words register in his mind. Ambrose must have froze or stiffened or showed his emotion on his face. “What do you mean his thoughts were loud?”

Nathan’s laugh was musical, pulling at Ambrose’s heart strings. “Come on Osk, you’re smarter than this.”

“Well I may have a concussion or two so cut me some slack,” Ambrose snapped. His breathing hitched, becoming erratic suddenly as his brain burst through the bars of the cell in his skull.

Nathan remained stubbornly silent, forcing Ambrose’s memory to try and colour in the gaps. Come on, Oskar, follow the context clues. He was— in Max’s bar he was fixing up Jude’s tab from the night before, the night with Jude, and Max said Jude knew Supervillain, and worked with him. Partners. Nathan’s grin at Ambrose’s mention of Jude, “why? Jealous, Osk?”

Jealous.

Was he jealous?

No. That’s not the important part. Come on!

Not just Kit, the other heroes. Kit was patrolling last night, looking for Supervillain and now Nathan and Jude had him, and…

“Ah,” Nathan said, revelling in Ambrose’s cold realisation. “There you go, Oskar. You got there eventually.”

“You…” Ambrose said, his voice losing breath and the words tapering off. “You… you can’t be Supervillain. You… you don’t even have powers!”

Nathan smirked in reply but didn’t answer. It irked something inside Ambrose, making him lean forward. “Right?! You don’t have powers, except resistance to—”

Ambrose grabbed his pulsing temple, cutting himself off. Nathan only has defensive abilities. He wasn’t powered, he couldn’t be, he had never— Ambrose had never seen. Natural immunity. That’s it. Not, not— how could he hear Benny’s thoughts? Mentor’s Telekinesis? He couldn’t—

“Explain,” Ambrose said, his voice a growl.

Nathan hummed, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. “What do you want me to explain?”

“How can you— people can’t have more than one power.”

“I don’t,” Nathan said with a shrug.

“Then what?! How! How can you use Mentor’s— you- you’re fucking lying to me!”

Nathan’s gaze doused the simmering rage in Ambrose. “Am I?”

And Ambrose knew he wasn’t.

He knew it, but he didn’t want to know it.

“You… you— you can’t be Supervillain,” Ambrose whispered. Hoping that if he repeated it enough it would make it true. He felt the overwhelming urge to cry and scream and rage and claw Nathan’s eyes out, but he just shook in the backseat, every part of his body trembling as if he was just dunked into an ice bath.

“And yet, I am, sweetheart. God, you don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to tell you, Oskar. But I knew, I knew I had to wait and be patient, and now that we’re together again I will explain everything when we get home.”

“Why did you take Kit?”

“To get to you, dummy,” Nathan replied with a lopsided smile. A smile full of love and Ambrose wanted to get sick. “And I got you, didn’t I? Go back to sleep, love. I’ll wake you when we get home.”

Ambrose didn’t want to sleep. He didn’t want to do anything, while simultaneously wanting to open the backdoor and jump out, or pull the steering wheel and throw up. He wanted to fight, but sleep was already pulling heavy down on his eyelids, and he curled back up beside the door, and closed his eyes.

*~*~*~*~*

The door squeaked open, light crawling along the stairs with a jolt and vanished just as quick as someone started skipping down the stairs. “Oh, Kit~”

Kit straightened as much as he could in the cuffs, stealing his expression to a stoic indifference.

Jude appeared at the bottom of the stairs, his green eyes gleaming with malice and a twisted delight. “I had a little deal with Supervillain. He said, if he didn’t text me every ten minutes then I was allowed to have fun with you! It’s been fifteen minutes, Kit. You know what that means?”

Tides and Sawyer woke at the sound, Sawyer freezing, his arms wound tightly around Tides who was trembling in his hold.

Jude’s eyes lazily flickered to the pair. “Aw, aren’t you two just sweethearts? Tell you what, if you be good I won’t even lock you up again!”

“You said you’re going to hurt Kit,” Sawyer told him. “Why would we just sit tight?”

Jude walked over to him and crouched down in front of the pair, tilting his head to the side as he regarded Sawyer. “I don’t know if they lied to you about how bad your face was, or you just don’t care, but if you don’t want me to force you to return the favour to your girlfriend there, I’d suggest you shut the fuck up and be a good little hostage, hmm?”

“You—”

“Sawyer,” Kit said, his voice hollow, yet still managing to cut through Sawyer’s. “Don’t. Just do what he says. I’ll be… I’ll be fine.”

“Kit—”

“You heard the boy, he’ll be fine!” Jude said with a wave, bouncing to his feet and walking around Kit to uncuff him from the wall. It was going to be nice, Kit realised, not having his hands glued above his head for a while. They fell like they were made of cement once Jude opened the cuffs and Kit groaned as he felt pins and needles thrum beneath the skin.

Pins and needles and something else.

Something… electric. Kit hid it, hoping that Jude couldn’t read minds like Ambrose could but when Jude started to pull Kit to his feet, Kit was almost certain that he couldn’t. Which meant that Kit had the leverage, but he would have to use it quickly if he wanted to keep it.

As Jude dragged Kit over to the chair, Kit felt the well of electricity surge within him, grabbing onto Jude’s arm as if he was about to fall. Jude was none the wiser, the stupid grin still on his face. Kit took a deep breath, and let the valve to his powers open from his brain to the tips of his toes and around his body.

Supervillain had used Omen’s commands to restrict their powers.

Too bad that didn’t work on Kit anymore.

Kit dug his fingers into Jude’s shoulders with one hand, the other at his side. He clicked his fingers and red lightning sparked like a glove from his free hand to the one holding Jude in the blink of an eye. Jude was too slow to react, his eyes blown wide before he was thrown across the room along with Kit from the sheer force of the red lightning.

Jude’s spine hit the wall and he collapsed, twitching on the ground from the impact as the lightning scorched his body.

Oh… that felt good, the voice in Kit’s head said as he straightened, suddenly rejuvenated after releasing the pent up energy on someone without worrying if they’d live or die. It was like stretching for the first tike after being trapped in a tight, constricted pose for a while, his body nourishing itself as the lightning ran up and down his body, lashing out every once in a while.

Kit ran a hand through his hair, exhilarated, a wide smile cutting into his cheeks as he walked towards Jude, ready to finish the job checking to see if he was still alive.

“Kit?” Kit stopped, glancing over his shoulder to see Tides and Sawyer gawking at him with wide eyes. Sawyer’s arm tight around Tides. Kit tilted his head, hungry eyes stalking the tenderness.

Sawyer kept his eyes on Kit’s, not flinching away. “Leave him, we need to get out of here, okay?”

Kit frowned. “But—” he began, his voice crackling like a walkie-talkie.

“I need your help,” Sawyer said, cutting Kit off again. Kit glanced back at Jude’s body, glaring at the shallow rise and fall of his back. “Kit.”

Kit shook his head and sighed, the electricity slowly leaving his body. “Fine. Let’s go.”

*~*~*~*~*

Orphanage roll-call (lmk if you wanna be added or removed): @beatenbruisedandbloody @404lunar1216 @whumpyworld @nameless-beanie e @andithewhumper @annablogsposts @whumpasaurus101 @0eggdealer @rejectedbytheempty @sleepy-pearl @n3rv0usn0v4 @whumpatize-me-captain @sunshiline-writes @burningkittypoet @honeyed-euphrates @sacredwrath @theonewithallthefixations @blood-enthusiast @tippytappytyping @shinokoro @bedtimescenarios @whatwhump @acer-whumpstuff @fa1rie @jesterrinobutter @xxgalgurlxx @princess-bubble-blossom @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @@dutifullykrispyland @memepsychowhowantsuperpower-blog @ehobep

[fatherphaniel]

ok i found the shirts

heading for rat girl summer so true

[sergle]

yall are about to piss me off by not having any PASSING basic knowledge of the way the u.s. military manipulates its recruits into joining by typing up one of your uninformed, unresearched, unempathetic, individualistic, unbelievably annoying posts about how 100% of the people in the military ended up there because they just Love America So Damn Much! they're extremely mature and informed at time of recruitment, they can totally leave anytime they want, they totally had tons of other avenues in life they could've taken, there was no rush at all to get income as fast as possible, and everyone in the military also totally is part of the combat divisions and personally enjoys being IN the military very much, big believers of violence. everyone in the military is shooting guns all day, that's how that works. they LOVE BLOODSHED. also I love the "amewicans haha" twang to this type of shit because you're actually TOTALLY stealing our Thing, which is turning systemic issues into Individual Issues. Instead of talking about the powers that be, it's so Personal Choice up in here. It's, "well you shouldn't have done it then. I totally wouldn't because I know better." you don't wanna talk about the military industrial complex as a whole, and you don't want to talk about recruiters, you just want to pin the blame on Specific Individual People one-by-one, as if they're responsible for the system that they're being ground up in. someone was in the military? bad person, no matter what. it's easier to believe that, I guess, than to acknowledge that Normal People (with high school educations) are manipulated and incentivized into joining a system that is Bad. at like age 18. but yeah no that 18 year old should have just been smarter lol haha anyway here are some screenshots for no particular reason

side note this reply of someone going "umm just get loans and go into a high paying field it's easy XD" as a direct response to someone trying to explain how most americans joining the military are being funneled in that direction out of a need for money.

and another person who Decided that americans join the military just CLENCHING their teeth thinking of other people, and not thinking completely selfishly about their own selves and their own income/housing/healthcare.

[hellenhighwater]

Have you taken any pottery classes or were you entirely self taught? I REALLY want to get into it but classes are quite expensive

I took some sculpting in undergrad, but it was in the context of casting and mold-making, not ceramics. So I'm fairly comfortable with clay as a medium but not so much with clay as an end product--not being able to do armatures and having to think about firing is weird. (If I had the opportunity to do bronze casting again, though, I would, no hesitation.) That puts me in the minority of my current pottery peers, who are largely self-taught or only learned in our studio.

I do pottery now at a co-op studio space, and technically that means that I'm taking classes there--but the classes are more like guided lab time? There's not really assignments or anything, and there's only a couple other people who sculpt, none of whom are in my class. Mostly the class just means that the person in charge demonstrates a technique or two once a week and then lets us do our thing.

Personally I think that shared studio space is the absolute best way to go. You spend less in startup costs (kilns are EXPENSIVE, running kilns is expensive, glaze is expensive) and it plugs you directly in to a group of fellow artists who can help and support you at whatever skill level you're at. Yes, classes are expensive--my class is $250 per season. But for me that includes lab space, 50 lbs of clay per season, almost all of the glaze I use, kiln time, and other people doing all the maintenance and kiln loading/unloading etc. Very much money well spent.

Artist-run shared spaces are often not turning a profit on anything with studio fees, just covering operations costs, so while it's pricey, it generally is just...what it costs to do that hobby. And it is sooooo much easier to be motivated when you're going to what is, basically, Grown-Up Art Club.

But if costs are prohibitive for you to do pottery via classes, and you want to learn to sculpt, then get some polymer clay and see what you can do. It's a different game than actual clay, but form is form, and the medium is secondary to figuring out how to translate an idea into reality.

Polymer clay is relatively affordable and doesn't require nearly the infrastructure of ceramics. If you can't spend the money on classes or a shared studio, then polymer clay is a great way to develop technique and an eye so that when you're in a position to spend the money, you already have the skills to make it worth what you're spending.

[poisonousquinzel]

"a dude in Texas legally changed his name to "Literally Anyone Else" and he's attempting to run for President against Biden & Trump" [source]

okay, but putting aside the comedic aspect of this, it is concerning the amount of people who are prompted to vote for candidates just because it's funny. I'm not the biggest fan of how his policy about the boarder sounds [Site], but I do implore anyone who is able to vote in the 2024 US election to please research other candidates.

The media is only going to continue pushing the idea it's inevitably going to be Trump vs Biden 2.0 and we have no other options, that we have to vote for Biden again because of Project 2025. Is that whole thing terrifying?

Yeah, fucking absolutely.

But voting for Biden will not solidify our safety from that. Biden is exactly like the rest of them. He always has been. You can't make the lesser of two evils argument when they're both just plain evil.

You cannot say that Biden is even mildly a better choice than Trump when he is currently directly involved in a genocide. That is not some little fucking thing. That in and of itself disqualifies him as a lesser evil. Biden is just as bad as him and he will not save us because he doesn't fucking care.

Cornel West [Site] is an Independent candidate running for President in the 2024 Election. [Policies]

Claudia De la Cruz and Karina Garcia [Site] are running for President and Vice-President as the candidates of the Party for Socialism and Liberation in the 2024 Election. [Policies]

There are options.

There are people trying to change the corrupt foundation our system is built on, but we have to help amplify them because the mainstream media will not.