#but when I'm high it feels like an hour has passed but it's only 20 minutes

[plushri-moved]

I really thought I wasn't that anxious of a person until I got high for the first time and realised I'm basically never relaxed and possibly also deeply unhappy so that's wonderful

[solarsturniolo]

𖥔‧₊˚ ⊹ Frat Boy!Chris...who isn't supposed to be on his phone during chapter meetings, but he just can't get enough of you.

𖥔‧₊˚ ⊹ Frat Boy!Chris...who will only let you drink from a cup that he hands to you. If you somehow end up with a drink he didn't make, rest assured that you will not be hearing the end of it.

𖥔‧₊˚ ⊹ Frat Boy!Chris...who lives off of pepsi, cold pizza, and coors light.

𖥔‧₊˚ ⊹ Frat Boy!Chris...who keeps a close eye on you when you attend one of his parties. If anyone gets too close or does something he doesn't like, he's ready to jump in and intervene.

𖥔‧₊˚ ⊹ Frat Boy!Chris...who convinces you to work the bar with him when it's his turn. "So I won't be as bored."

𖥔‧₊˚ ⊹ Frat Boy!Chris...who never makes you pay for the drugs he supplies you with.

𖥔‧₊˚ ⊹ Frat Boy!Chris...who is always in charge of selecting the DJ for the frat events.

𖥔‧₊˚ ⊹ Frat Boy!Chris...who you only ever see at night. Maybe you'd see him in passing while walking from class to class on campus, but even that was a rare sight.

𖥔‧₊˚ ⊹ Frat Boy!Chris...who drives an Audi A6. It always smells like black ice car fresheners, weed, and clean leather. Chris is very selective about who he lets in his car, but it didn't take long for you to claim the passenger princess title.

𖥔‧₊˚ ⊹ Frat Boy!Chris...who loves going all out for party and event themes. That being said, he easily gets frustrated when other people don't put in as much effort as he does. All he wants is for everyone to have a good time, and for his parties to be talked about for the next decade.

𖥔‧₊˚ ⊹ Frat Boy!Chris...who insists on making the jungle juice for the parties. He may be a fuckboy, but he makes it clear that he wants the girls to be safe.

𖥔‧₊˚ ⊹ Frat Boy!Chris...who always has a pack of Marlboros on him.

𖥔‧₊˚ ⊹ Frat Boy!Chris...who is a monster at poker and beer pong. Not the best with a dart board, though.

𖥔‧₊˚ ⊹ Frat Boy!Chris...who is absolutely horrible at responding to texts. He always feels bad once he realizes that he's left you on delivered for 20 hours, but his schedule is packed pretty tight.

𖥔‧₊˚ ⊹ Frat Boy!Chris...who 100% has a piece hidden in his room.

𖥔‧₊˚ ⊹ Frat Boy!Chris...who couldn't find any papers to roll another joint, so he takes a $50 from his wallet and wraps it in that. "I'm too fucked up to go out and get more, it's this or a weak ass high."

𖥔‧₊˚ ⊹ Frat Boy!Chris...who lets you stand behind the DJ booth and queue a few songs up that you think the girls will enjoy. If anyone tries to say anything to you, Chris gives them one look and they take off in the other direction.

𖥔‧₊˚ ⊹ Frat Boy!Chris...who pretty much only uses snapchat for communication. "So I can see your pretty lil face, mama."

𖥔‧₊˚ ⊹ Tags 𖥔‧₊˚ ⊹

@flowerxbunnie @megamett44-lover @xtravrgnoliveoil @mattsturnswife @sturniolofan4lifee @soursturniolo @sturnioz @luverboychris @meerkatzthings @soupuurr @gemofthenight @hi-7-hi @blahbel668 @mattspleasure @sturnybabes @jjmaybankswifes-blog @sturniolosreads @bernardsleftbootycheek @egirlshit @nonamegirlxsturniolo @chrizz333 @sturniolopowers @mattsleftnipple03 @worldlxvlys @hearts4chriss @janiellasblog @creamoncreamoncream2 @meg-sturniolo @ellie-luvsfics @lustfulslxt @braindead4l @ghostlythinggoingaround @taekwite @querenciasturniolo @m4ttslvr @mqttittude @bewtyschooldropout @lovesturni0l0s @zebonos @h3arts4harry @riowritesitall @freshloveforthefit @esioleren @colorthecosmos444 @mbbsgf @kitkatbar1275 @fratbrochrisgf @sturnslutz @favsdti @sturnsmia

[baby-stoner-butch]

Road Trip

Been thinking lately about long road trips, the kind where you're driving through the middle of nowhere for hours and hours and hours and how the only people passing through along with you are other road trippers or long haul semi trucks. Thinking about all that time alone in the car, all the run down gas stations and rest areas you end up stopping at while driving through nowhere that don't feel real. Thinking about what me and my Passenger Princess could do to pass the time driving through farmland with shitty radio stations and no cellphone service

We'd leave early, like 4 AM early. I'd pack up the car, luggage in the trunk, backpacks in the back seat, and a cooler on the floor within arms reach while we're driving. I'd let my baby sleep as long as she could before I wake her up and tell her it's time to go. As we pull out of the driveway, she falls right back asleep. I'll still get her a refresher when I make my first coffee stop, it'll be waiting for her in the cooler when she wakes up. She won't know that I added a couple shots to the drink before I put it away

Maybe she'd wake up again around 9am or so, whenever I have to make my first gas stop. We'd pull into one of those big truck stops that's nice and clean and has lots of snacks and decent breakfast sandwiches and all that. The last nice big truck stop before the next rural stretch. I'd let my baby wake up and walk around and pick out something for breakfast and feel like she's starting her day before I let her know about the present I have for her in the cooler. Once the car is gassed up and my baby is settled into the passenger seat we'd hit the road again

About 20 minutes into this drive, she'd have eaten her breakfast and drank most of the refresher and she'd start to wonder why she feels kinda tired and spacey. "That's just how road trips are, love, I'm feeling kind of tired too. You just didn't sleep as well in the passenger seat. Why don't you lay the seat back and get comfy, we still have a long way to go,"

I'd let her drift off and feel her buzz for a while, let her think she's still just not completely awake. It's been a long time since she's been on a road trip like this, so I'm probably right that being in the car so long just makes you feel tired and weird. But as she lays there she's more and more aware that she feels disoriented and dizzy. She starts to believe she's carsick and asks me to pull over.

The only place to pull over is a weird little rest area off the highway. One of the ones that might have a vending machine and a clean bathroom, and a handful of picnic tables out in front. There's maybe a dozen cars and trucks parked around, but only one person I can see walking around in the parking lot. We'd sit at a table outside and I'd have my princess drink some water and tell me how she's feeling. She says it's like the world is moving faster than her, like she can't quite gather all her thoughts. I'd tell her that's what it felt like for me the first time I got carsick too. "That's all it is baby is carsickness, you're just dizzy because you fell asleep in the car and got all confused. But I heard that weed can help with car sickness, and I have some edibles in the glove box." She'd try and argue and say that doesn't sound right, but she also can't think very clearly anymore. It's easy to convince her that getting high would solve the problem. She takes an edible as we pull back out onto the highway

About an hour later the gummy kicks in and my baby complains that it's not doing anything to help her carsickness. She says it's hard to focus her eyes and that's making her dizzier and we need to pull over again. "We can't baby, we still have to make decent time. The more we pull over the longer you have to stay in the car." I convince her to hold out a little longer for me. There's a bandana in the glovebox she can use as a sleeping mask, and she ties it tight over her eyes for me so obediently. I reach over and rub gently up and down her thigh to help her calm down

While she snoozes I talk to her so softly. "You're doing so good for me baby, relaxing in the passenger seat. Feel how the car rocks you back and forth, listen to the white noise of the road. Such a good girl for me keeping me company in the passenger seat," Soon enough I can tell she's starting to fall back asleep

Slowly and quietly I take my hand from her thigh and reach into my door pocket where I hid her vibrator. She doesn't notice as I turn it on and connect it to my phone. She only lets out a small moan when I tuck my hand under her skirt, into her panties, and place the vibe right against her clit. She's so wet for me already, she must have been dreaming about something like this all morning. I'm not going to start playing with her yet though, it's a long car ride and I want to save some of the fun for later.

The tank is about halfway empty when she wakes up again and tells me she feels a little better now. If I didn't know any better I'd assume she actually did feel better, but she's still to high to notice the vibrator against her wet pussy. I tell her that it's been a while and she should probably take another edible so she stays feeling better. She takes one without question

It's around 1pm when we pull into a little middle of nowhere diner for some lunch. I walk around to open the car door for my baby and help her out of the car. She leans on me with enough weight that I know if I wasn't holding her up she'd be stumbling around at best. At least this way she can save face and I look like a gentleman.

At the gas station, she waits in the car while I fill the tank and go inside for road drinks. I get a 4 pack of spiked sodas for my baby and an energy drink for me. She's too high to read the label when I hand her her first. It's 2:30pm when we hit the road again.

While my baby sips her soda we chat. I ask her how she's feeling now that she ate and she says she feels good. She thinks the weed is helping. I ask her if she's going to be okay for another long stretch and she says yes. "Did you notice the way everyone was looking at us in the diner, baby? You were holding on to me so tight, I wonder what they were all thinking. I wonder if they could tell how high you are. I wonder if they could see the vibrator under your skirt."

She looks at me confused for a second before her eyes go wide in shock as I turn up the vibrator on her clit. She gasps and squirms in her seat, putting on a cute little show for me. She would have spilled her soda if the bottle wasn't so empty. She looks like she's about to reach down and turn off the vibrator. "Don't touch." She whines and moans but she does what she's told.

"Finish your drink baby," I turn the vibrator down to its lowest setting so she can focus on her task. When she finishes I reach back into the cooler and hand her another. "Finish this too." My baby's always been such a good listener when she's crossed

She drinks about half the bottle before she finally decided to read the label. "Babe did you know there's alcohol in this?" Her speech is slurred and slow, like she really has to fight to use her words. I tell her I don't know what she's talking about. She still finishes the bottle like a good girl

The next hour on the road I have one hand on the wheel and the other playing with her vibrator. Every time she gets close to cumming I turn it back down on the lowest setting and tell her to sip her drink. She's not allowed to cum until she finishes all 4 bottles. She finishes her last one a mile before the next rest stop

I pull off the highway and park the car as far away from the door as I can, just so I can watch her stumble through the parking lot a bit longer. Before I help her out of the car, I pop another gummy between her lips. It's for the best since she finished all her soda

There's one other car in the parking lot, and a semi truck parked along the on ramp. Neither driver is in their vehicle.

I help my baby out of the car, but I tell her I forgot my phone in the car and make her walk by herself this time. She sways slightly when I let her go and takes slow steps towards the door. She almost trips stepping up to the sidewalk and catches herself on a light post. She bends over to steady herself and I can see her soaking wet panties peak out from under her short little skirt. I'm so glad she didn't question the outfit I laid out for her this morning

I take my time catching up to her, but when I do I grab her arm to steady her and walk her inside with me. I can feel the stares from the other travelers when I pull open the door and push my baby through. I don't think she's aware enough to realize anyone saw her. She's so adorable when she can't walk straight!

I walk her into the bathroom with me, one hand on the small of her back and the other holding open the door. As soon as we're inside I turn the deadbolt. I force my lips onto hers, standing on my tiptoes just a bit, and use my bodyweight to pin her to the wall. One hand caresses her jaw so carefully and the other finds it way under her skirt. She's soaked though her panties and I can feel her twitch as I tease my fingers along her slit. I bring my lips close to her ear and whisper "Stay still baby"

Pull away from her face I sink to my knees in front of her, pulling her panties down with me. She whimpers when I pull the vibrator away from her clit and pocket it. I guide her carefully to step out of them, making sure she's still standing before I reach up and shove them inside her drooling little mouth. "Don't drop those sweetheart"

I love when she gets so desperate and needy, I know she needs to cum so bad and she's been so patient while I've had my fun with her. Her thighs are so wet from her leaky cunt, I run my tongue slowly up her leg to tease her, and stop just before I reach her cunt to leave her some pretty bite marks. She's going to bruise so beautifully

She grabs a fist full of my hair to steady herself. I put one leg over my shoulder and hold her to my face by her hips. I blow a slow cool breath over her pussy and feel her shift more of her weight onto me. It sounds like she's trying to beg through her panties. "Be good for me baby, don't drop your panties"

Finally I give her what she wants, I pull her hips forward and push my tongue so deep inside her, letting her drip down my chin. She whines so loud for me as I tease her clit with my thumb, but my good girl doesn't let her panties fall from her mouth. Her muffled "please please" gets louder and louder as I taste her wet cunt

I grip her thigh with my free hand and press her harder against the wall. She's so close to cumming that she's dripping down my chin just the way I like. I won't stop to give her permission to cum, but I'll force her to cum anyway. She screams so loud around her panties in her mouth and tightens her grip on my hair as I thrust my tongue in and out of her. I lift her just an inch off the ground as she clenches so tight around me, I don't slow down while she pulls my face closer and she cums

I feel her ride her orgasm as I gently bring her back down to the ground. Her legs are shaking as she's forced to stand on her own once again. I keep one hand on her waist as I stand to meet her unfocused gaze. "Open" I command as I remove her panties from her mouth. Those go in my pocket too. I lean my weight against her into the wall and I whisper in her ear "That's my good girl" with a gentle nip at her earlobe. All she can do is whimper in response

As we leave the bathroom she hangs off me for support and keeps her eyes to the ground. I notice only one person remains in the rest stop, presumably the truck driver. They must have heard everything. "Lets go my love," I whisper to my baby, "we still have a long drive ahead of us"

[alexanderwales]

Notes on 3000 miles

Last year my doctor told me that I had high blood pressure, high cholesterol, and a high resting heartrate. So I started biking on an exercise bike, and by my best estimations, I'm either close to hitting 3000 miles or have already gone past that.

I should clarify that this wasn't all at once. I took many breaks.

So here are some notes.

When I started, I was on an exercise bike that my wife had gotten from her work. It wasn't the best, but it was free, and I made a deal with myself that if I biked every day for a month, then I could justify getting something better. I really really did not want to buy a piece of exercise equipment that would just sit in the house gathering dust, because that would feel awful ... but I do kind of wish that I had gotten the better bike sooner, because it removed some of the "friction" of exercise, where it felt like there were too many reasons not to get on the bike. The new exercise bike (a refurbished Peleton off Facebook marketplace that my wife got me for Christmas) really does just feel and move better. I think the general principle of not doing costly monetary commitments until you've shown costly personal commitment is a good one, however.

Blood pressure is in normal range. Cholesterol is in normal range. Resting heartrate is in normal range. This was all the case three months in, and this level of cardio is more than enough to maintain it.

Right now, I bike for thirty minutes a day, going 8-10 miles according to the bike. That range is enormous, because it represents vastly different amounts of work. Going 10 miles in 30 minutes is 20 miles an hour, and I keep the resistance relatively high, so by the end of it I'm always panting. By contrast, going 8 miles makes me feel like I didn't put in enough work.

My goal every day is sweat-based and completely qualitative. I want to soak through a shirt. This means that doing more laundry than I'd prefer to, which is an unanticipated consequence of the biking. It's also, compared to all the metrics the bike gives me, a very clear sign that I am actually exercising my body "properly" in a way that's achieving something.

I did some of the Peleton classes, and found a lot of the metrics to be motivating, but ... eh. Exercise is mostly about being healthy and maintaining my body, so my current strategy, for the last six months, has been to either shut the brain down or keep it fully engaged in something that passes the exercise time. Usually this means a TV show, especially a foreign one with subtitles, which need slightly more brainpower.

The final two minutes is always the worst. I'm just ready to be done with it. Sometimes there's gas left in the tank, but I still feel sweaty, thirsty, and overheated. I have a water bottle, and I drink from it while I bike, and I have a fan pointed at me that I turn on once I'm warmed up, but I always have a sense, in those last two minutes, of "finally I'm done". I tried the thinking man's solution, only biking for 28 minutes, and this did not help. In my entire year of biking a half hour a day, I didn't ever elect to go into overtime.

I initially lost ten pounds, then slowly gained it back. I am, in fact, overweight, but I'm holding more or less steady now, and there have definitely been some body composition changes, with muscle replacing fat. I went down about four inches at the waist. I've changed very little about how I eat (which is 90% meals that I cook myself, and a daily coffee drink of some kind, usually made myself with sugar/cream/chocolate). Biking amounts to 300-400 calories a day or something like that, so I'm presumably eating more to compensate and just not realizing it.

Mental health has been rocky, but that's just sort of how it is for me. I definitely feel less mentally well on days that I don't bike, and feel better afterward, but I have no idea how tight the correlation is, and if I had been keeping track on a mood tracker, I'm not sure I would be able to sus out from self-reported mood alone whether or not I was biking.

During the summer I replaced a lot of indoor exercise bike stuff with outdoor biking. My son has only recently learned to bike, so he's been with me many of these times. Usually that means that we're either biking a lot less distance, or we're biking for a lot longer time at much lower intensity, sometimes both. There's a bike path that's downhill from our house which goes for maybe six miles, with some good, clear turn back points, but that means a fairly arduous uphill to get back home. If I lived in a place where the weather wasn't frigid for almost half the year, I would probably be doing outdoor biking more.

I think the most important thing, if you're doing exercise every day, is making sure that you're doing it in such a way that it's sustainable and virtually incapable of injuring you. This mostly means proper form. Early on, I had a habit of pressing down the right pedal with the outside edge of my foot, and after fifteen minutes of doing that, the muscles in the foot would be aching and uncomfortable. I'm not sure why I was doing that, but it was difficult to get myself to bike in a way that wouldn't be putting strain on me.

I think it's okay to skip a day ... if it's for the right reason. Of the days that I've skipped, I always try to make sure the reason isn't "fuck it, I don't want to". I should either be feeling sick, feeling like I need to rest, or replacing biking with some other form of exercise like a hike in the woods or some weightlifting or something. If I start skipping days because I just don't feel like it, that's where the whole scheme falls apart.

I am currently sort of wondering how long this is going to go on for, and I think the answer is "for the rest of my life", or at least until I'm unable to keep it up for whatever reason. I don't think there's any particular reason to prefer an exercise bike (or regular bike) over running or rowing or some other form of cardio, but I think I have proven to myself that this is cardio I can do daily and stick with it to the level that is probably necessary for me to stay healthy. I'm not committed to doing it for the rest of my life, since in theory some other form of cardio might come along and sweep me off my feet.

I do wish that I had started earlier in my life, even if daily exercise has not been the panacea for mental health that I had been kind of hoping it would be. I hope that I have the willpower and wisdom to keep up with it indefinitely.

[silentsneezes]

Heyy me again… ahahah

Do you have any silco with allergies hc’s or maybe a k!nk Silco/Vander Zaundads fic?

Totally asking this with normal intentions, completely not obsessed or anything!

(Im gnawing at the bars of my enclosure i love your writing)

thank you anon!! trust me when i say i'm also gnawing at the bars of my enclosure... so here's almost 3k of sick v/ander and kink s/ilco

i'll probably continue this in the future, but between university and life things i haven't had as much time to write... so we'll see

anyways, this is set pre-everything in the show. you could read it as an au if you want!

The Last Drop on a Saturday is no fucking joke. Vander knows that full well, always double checking his list of opening tasks to ensure things run smoothly. Only a few hours after opening, the dimly lit, smoke-filled haven is already filled to its capacity. Earlier that day, there had been a boxing match held in a nearby arena, and it’s safe to say people are still riding that high. Vander picks up on arguments over bets that were won or lost, prideful drunkards boasting about how they’d been rooting for the champion all along.

The bar practically roars with the infectious excitement, only encouraged by the drinks the patrons continue to slam back. Vander doesn’t mind, he’s quite pleased with how popular his bar is, especially on nights where boxing matches occur. Everyone needs a good drink after a match, he supposes. Plus, the influx in business never hurts– people typically become more generous tippers the drunker they get. 

Vander works mindlessly as he pours drink after drink, zoning out to the sounds of raucous laughter, the clink of glass against wood, and the quiet kshhhh of the keg. The conversations are nothing more than a full-on-chorus, which has its pros and cons. 

On one hand, it allows Vander to zone out to the constant noise, letting himself work without second thought.

On the other hand, Vander feels like fucking shit. He’d been coming down with something the past couple of days, but he’d figured it wasn’t anything a few DayQuil couldn’t fix. Now, he’s beginning to realize that he was sorely mistaken in his initial dismissal of the cold. His usual charming grin doesn’t come as easily tonight, and when he wipes his brow, it’s not just due to the heat of the room. His skin is coated in a feverish sheen, his cheeks uncharacteristically flushed as he forces himself to work through his rising fever. 

The frequenters of the bars notice– at least those sober enough to– but they’ve seen this before. Vander’s tough. He’s the kind of guy who keeps his bar open for better or for worse, so when he’s sick, they just give him a look of silent understanding: he’ll be fine, he always is. 

As ‘fine’ as Vander might be, his movements are dulled by fever. He keeps moving, keeps working—filling mugs, passing shots, refilling drinks– functioning as if he’s on autopilot. His work is only interrupted as he hears the familiar drawl of his friend’s voice. 

“Is anybody home?” Silco asks with a slight smirk, looking Vander up and down as he takes a seat on the barstool closest to the sick man, observing his absent expression. Vander opens his mouth to reply, pausing momentarily to clear his throat before gruffly responding, “very funny, Silco,” sarcastically. He starts making Silco’s drink wordlessly, knowing exactly what the other likes. Vander doesn’t bother filling the silence between the two of them, letting the steady roar of auditory input wash over him. 

“Long day?” Silco questions, frowning as a nearby customer lets out a howl of laughter at his own joke, “I’ll bet you 20 gold coins he soils himself by the end of the night.” 

Vander finds it somewhat amusing how Silco always seems to take issue with the other patrons of the bar, as if he finds himself somewhat above this crowd. “I’d be an idiot to take you up on that,” Vander says with a tired grin, his lips barely curling upwards as he leans in, resting his weight on the bartop. He places the drink in front of Silco with a heavy thud, the glass almost too solid in his grip, as if it’s an anchor to keep him from slipping under the noise and fatigue. “You know how they get after boxing matches.”

“Oh, do I,” Silco replies, the words clipped, his voice carrying an immense judgement of those customers who lack any semblance of manners or public decency. He doesn’t like them, doesn’t trust them, but he does like Vander. 

Vander struggles to think up a response, his usual charm and banter replaced with a steady painful thrum threatening to become a migraine. The noise of the bar presses against his skull like a vice, and just as he finally manages to think up an adequate response, he feels it coming. A tickle in his nose, faint at first, but enough to make his breath catch as it buzzes through his sinuses. 

At first he tries to fight it, swiping at his nose roughly with the backside of his hand. His other hand searches his pockets for a rag, a handkerchief, anything. Unfortunately for him, the sneeze builds quickly. His eyes are forced to scrunch shut as his chest swells with an urgent, “hhHHHH-” and for a half-second, everything around him goes blurry, the pressure in his sinuses making his head swim, “hHHRRZZSCHHH’HUw!!”

Vander turns away from the bartop just in time, snapping forwards into his elbow with a resounding sneeze, one that grates his throat enough as to where he has to blink away a few tears. Silco watches with rapt attention, his abdomen pooling with hot attraction as he observes Vander’s broad frame nearly bend itself in two with the force of the sneeze. 

“Bless you,” Silco purrs, his voice low and sultry. The blessing practically rolls off of his tongue, and yet Vander knows it’s not just out of politeness. You see, Silco doesn’t just bless anyone. For him, offering a blessing is somewhat of a privilege, something one earns through continuous affection, and he and Vander are nothing if not affectionate. 

“I’ve got the whole damn package today—head full of cement and a nose that thinks it’s spring,” Vander mutters, barely able to keep the irritation out of his voice. Had he not known about Silco’s kink, he would’ve been entirely fed up with his body's need to sneeze. Except there’s a sliver of him that can’t help but relish the fact that he can make Silco squirm so easily. If he has to feel so utterly miserable, someone might as well enjoy it, right?

And he is miserable, nothing short of it. Silco, however, seems to be basking in Vander’s sickness, finding it difficult to resist the sight of his friend turned fuck-buddy turned… whatever it is they are now. 

“Why is it you insist on working when you’re sick?” Silco questions, knowing full-well the stubborn answer he’s about to receive– it’s the same every time. 

Except Vander doesn’t answer, letting Silco’s question hang in the air as he raises a hand to his nose. It’s back again, that bothersome, tantalizing itch that’s been wreaking havoc on his nose all night, “hhHHH’uh-”

At the sound of Vander’s hitch, Silco prepares himself for the imminent sneeze. Vander has never been one to have dramatic build ups when he’s sick– though allergies are an entirely different feat– rather, his sneezes come on quickly with one to two hitches beforehand. 

Unable to find a rag in time, Vander settles for cupping a broad hand over his nose and mouth, “hHHMMPH’DSSXCHHhew!” The sneeze is barely muffled against his palm, and Vander can feel moisture threatening to slip through his fingers. He pinches his nose between his thumb and his forefinger, gathering the residual mess and moving to wash his hands. 

When Vander returns to the bartop, he sees Silco, his gaze intensely focused, waiting with that unsettling calm, as if he could pounce at any moment. Had the countertop not been separating them, Vander is certain Silco would be draping an arm around his waist and pulling him close. And god does he want that. 

Just as Vander moves to prop himself against the bartop again, he hears a drunken, “Oi! Vander!” and groans internally, straightening up and snapping out of his exhausted haze. The woman, a regular frequenter of the bar, leans against the other side of the counter with a casual air, “Get me something strong, but nice. I’ve got a lady to impress,” she says with a smirk. Usually, Vander would have the energy to engage in some sort of playful banter, perhaps asking the customer as to who she’s pursuing tonight. Instead, he rattles off a few drink options, giving her a sideways glance as she chooses the strongest of the drinks he’d proposed, “You sure? It’s got one hell of a kick.”

The customer dismisses his warning with a wave of her hand and a chuckle, “I’m feeling lucky today.”

“Liquid luck,” Silco tuts almost inaudibly from his seat, though it goes unheard by anyone aside from Vander, “what a foolish concept.”

Vander’s lips curl into a slight smirk at the sound of Silco’s words, but he forces himself to maintain focus. He has a job to do. With a sigh, Vander grabs a glass, still feeling the steady ache that only a cold can instill. As he’s about to start mixing, he feels that nagging sensation in his nose return, the familiar tickle building once again. He grimaces, trying to hold it back for the sake of not sneezing into a customer's drink, but his body has a different plan. His breath hitches involuntarily, forcing him to pivot away from the countertop without even setting the glass down first. He draws in a final, urgent breath before snapping forwards and spraying the tiled floor with an uncovered, “hHHRRRSSXCHHHh’eHw!” 

As the sneeze fades, Vander stays still for a moment, eyes squeezed shut, his body still catching up with the sudden burst of pressure. He forces himself to stand upright, tending to the moisture clinging to his septum with his sleeve. He’d usually have a bit more decorum when it comes to covering and utilizing his sleeve as a tissue, for the sake of germs moreso than any feeling of embarrassment, but he’s too fucking tired tonight. 

“Salud,” the woman blesses absentmindedly, watching as Vander composes himself enough to make her drink, “you look sick as a dog,” she comments. Vander just continues mixing the drink, replying with a halfhearted, “that’s never stopped me before.”

“Touche.” Luckily, the woman leaves the conversation at that, exchanging the drink for a few gold pieces and making her way across the bar back to the person she’s trying to impress. 

“She’s right, you look terrible,” Silco says matter-of-factly, drawing Vander’s attention back to him. His fingers trail along the rim of his now empty glass, his expression smug as he receives an eye-roll in response. 

Vander doesn’t have time to reply as another customer approaches the bar, and he internally curses as he turns away from the one person in the bar he actually wants to see right now. His head throbs, the dull ache in his throat turning into a tight, bothersome burning sensation. As he prepares a round of shots, every movement feels slower than his last, his limbs growing heavier as the evening progresses. 

Finally, after what feels like hours, there’s a lull in drink orders, and Vander has the opportunity to return to his conversation with Silco. He doesn’t bother with pleasantries, instead saying, “you’ve got a handkerchief, no?”

“I always do,” Silco replies effortlessly, a slight smirk tugging at his lips as he registers where this is going. Vander extends his hand wordlessly, becoming increasingly frustrated with his nose running like a faucet. 

“Use your words,” Silco tuts, though his eyes flick between Vander’s outstretched hand and his nose, reddened and irritated after being berated all day. 

“Silco,” Vander huffs huskily, evidently too exhausted to tolerate any sort of teasing, “give it here.”

“That’s no way to treat a customer.”

“Bullshit, you’re not a customer.”

“Hm, then what am I?” Silco asks, enjoying this far more than he should. His hand slips into the inner pocket of his vest, extracting his crimson red handkerchief from its resting place. He keeps it hidden in his lap, waiting for the perfect moment to submit to Vander’s request. 

“A brat.” 

Vander’s hand remains outstretched, waiting for Silco to drop the dominant act and give in. Fuck me Vander mentally curses as the itch swells in his nose again, forcing his wide nostrils to flare in protest. It’s like Silco was waiting for this moment—the vulnerability of Vander, flushed and slightly out of breath, his hitches almost an invitation. 

“I know you always hhhHave one on you. Give it to m-hHHH-me dammit,” Vander’s previously annoyed tone is replaced with one of urgency. Both he and Silco know damn well he can’t hold back for shit. 

Silco watches, waiting until the very last second before pressing the handkerchief into Vander’s palm. His fingers brush across the calloused skin of Vander’s hand, which is nearly twice the size of his. Vander clutches the handkerchief, turning on his heel and doubling over as a sneeze tears through him, “hHHHGGSXCHHH’Hh’ugh!”

“Bless you,” Silco purrs once again, silently cursing the countertop separating him from the sick man. He can feel his arousal making itself known, pressing against the tight confines of his pants, “You’ll be making that up to me, you know I don’t share–” he begins, but Vander cuts him off. 

“I’ve been pudting on a show for you all nighd. Don’d be so greedy,” he mumbles huskily, the congestion in his voice dulling certain consonants. Vander gives his nose a strangled blow. It’s unsuccessful at first, eliciting a huff of frustration from the man. With both hands holding the handkerchief over his nose, he takes a deep breath, steeling himself for the next attempt. The second noseblow is much more productive, clearing his airways as best they can be with a cold ravaging his nose.

“That’s better,” Vander acknowledges, tucking the– already soiled– handkerchief into his back pocket and moving to wash his hands again. Silco, having been observing Vander’s every move, shifts to relieve some of the pressure in his pants. 

“It’s a shame you have to work,” he comments idly, knowing full well that Vander could’ve called someone in to cover his shift, “I’ve heard a good fuck is quite the cure-all for colds.” 

Silco’s bluntness never fails to catch Vander’s attention. People typically shy away from expressing their kinks, especially one as bizarre as sneezing, but Silco treats it as he does anything that can bring him sexual gratification: without shame– though don’t be mistaken, he’s eager to indulge in humiliation when given the chance. 

Vander knows exactly what Silco is alluding to, weighing the benefits of closing early or calling someone to take his place. His stubbornness and grit can only last so long, it seems, as he leans heavily against the bartop again. 

Grinning as he recognizes the slight defeat in Vander’s expression, Silco presses on, “Would it be so terrible to take a night off? I’d stay, of course, to attend to your needs.”

Vander looks up, his eyes traveling from the smirk on Silco’s face to his slightly unbuttoned top– had his chest been so visible before, so appealing? His view of Silco’s slim waist is blocked by the counter, but he’s almost certain Silco’s hard to some extent; it really only takes a few sneezes to get him going. After all, Vander’s are his favorite. 

“Fine,” he agrees stubbornly, glancing at the clock. Typically, The Last Drop would stay open well into the night and through the earliest hours of the morning, but it’s only 11:30 and Vander feels like dead weight. He leans down, searching for the bar-phone he keeps next to the especially expensive liquors. Upon finding it, he dials an employee's number despite the guilt ringing through his mind. He’s not one to give up easily, and he’s certainly given one hell of a fight to make it through this shift, but the promise of a quieter room and Silco’s attention is enough to sway him. 

“Jay? I’m sorry to ask, but–,” Vander pauses as his breath hitches, the itch suddenly returning with a vengeance. He holds the receiver as far away as possible, ducking to the side and clamping his other hand over his nose, “hhHHHGDTSCHHH’huew!” 

Apparently, Jay could still hear the utter desperation of the expulsion from over the phone– and was left to imagine the mess it made, and trust, it was messy– and is quick to say, “I’ll be there in twenty. Try not to drop dead by then.”

TBC…

as always, any reblogs, tags, and comments are very much appreciated!! i experimented with a different writing style with this fic, so any feedback is appreciated as well :3

[sydsaint]

Not afraid to admit I'm in love with his problematic ass <3

Summary: The reader wins the women rumble only to be teased by Punk. So when he loses his rumble she can't pass up the opportunity to get some revenge.

The crowd in the arena is deafeningly loud as they all scream and cheer around you. It's been over an hour since you came out in the women's rumble match as number 3, and somehow you're still here. Every inch of your body is drenched in sweat and everything aches. But you aren't done yet.

Four women remain in the match, including you. Becky Lynch, Bayley, and Liv Morgan are all much fresher than you are. But none of them have the unbridled passion and desire to win like you do.

"Sorry, Becky." You grab ahold of Becky's leg and dump her over the ropes after faking a temporary alliance with her.

Becky tumbles to the floor and it's down to three. Liv and Bayley start going at it in one of the corners of the ring and you see your opening. You rush to the corner and shove Bayley into the turnbuckle. Bayley hits Liv who has been teetering on the apron and Liv sails down to the floor.

One left.

You waste no time and grab Bayley's waist. She struggles against your grip, but your raw strength is too much for her. You muster all the strength you have left haul Bayley over your head and drop her. She tumbles over the top rope and hits the ground with a loud thud.

You did it. You won.

The bell rings and your exhaustion gets the better of you. You sink to your knees breathing heavily as one of the referee's on the outside heads in to raise your hand.

About 15 minutes later you head backstage with a giddy smile on your face. You've got Rhea at Wrestlemania this year. And you aren't going to squander this opportunity. Nothing can ruin this moment.

"Well well well, don't you look nice." A familiar voice greets you on the other side of the curtain and your smile fades.

"Fuck you, Phillip." You come face to face with CM Punk. You sneer at the shit-eating grin plastered on his face as he blocks your path. "Move out of the way you entitled dickhead." You spit at him.

"And miss the chance to congratulate you on your big win, YN?" Punk replies cooly.

You stand your ground and stare at him, despite the fact that every fiber of your being is sore and exhausted. But Punk has a way of lighting a fire in you. In more ways than one, unfortunately.

"Good luck out there tonight, Punk. I sincerely hope that Cody kicks your ass and dumps you over the top rope." You flash a fake smile at him before shouldering past him.

"You know you love me, sweetheart!" Punk calls after you as you walk off.

You head back to the locker room and get a good shower in. The hot water eases the fatigue and ache in your body and you feel much better after. Since you're feeling better you head backstage again so you can watch the men's rumble match unfold.

When you arrive backstage the match is up to number 20. You watch Bron Breakker come out and dominate the field. You and Bron used to hang out in NXT before you got called up. You smile to yourself as the match drags on and Bron picks up some eliminations for himself and makes plans to talk to him after the show to catch up.

"Oh god. They gave him lucky number 27?" You scoff when it's Punk's turn to head out.

You roll your eyes at his confidence and bravado, ignoring that voice in the back of your mind that finds him so damn hot when he's acting all high and mighty. The match drags on for another twenty minutes until it's just Punk and Cody left.

"Yes! Get his ass, Cody!" You cheer when Rhodes tosses Punk out of the ring. "Nice! Serves his entitled ass right." You smile to yourself when the bell rings.

The camera pans to Punk sitting on the floor in defeat and a thought pops into your head. 'god he looks so pathetic.' You think to yourself. 'and kind of hot all defeated and on his knees.'

You decide to hang around and rub it in some when Punk comes trudging through the curtain.

"Well well well, don't you look nice?" You mimic Punk's earlier statement with a grin.

Punk picks his head up and meets your gaze. Your smile is the same cocky and self-important one he was wearing earlier in the night. You're doing the same thing he was earlier. Only difference is you're set to main event Wrestlemania in two months with Rhea. And Punk just lost to Cody freaking Rhodes.

"Awe, what's wrong, Phil?" You laugh. "Night didn't go like you planned?"

"Yeah, real mature, sweetheart." Punk grumbles to himself. "Move out of the way." He demands.

You can't help but widen the smile on your face if that's even possible. "What? And miss the chance to rub this loss in your face?" You snicker.

Punk steps up to you but you don't budge. He comes to a stop inches from your face and stares at you. And you stare right back.

"Doesn't feel good, does it, Phillip?" You ask with a grin.

"You're real mature. You know that?" Punk fires back.

You continue to stand your ground and lick your lips. The tension in the air is palpable at this point. "I am almost 20 years younger than your geriatric ass." You remind him.

"Brat." Punk growls at you and finally shoulders past you.

"Awe, what's the matter, Daddy? Can't take the heat?" You laugh as he stomps off. "What happened to all that confidence from earlier? What was it you said? Oh, right! You know you love me, sweetheart!" You continue to call after him until he's out of sight.

Zoey Stark comes around the corner having heard everything and walks over to your side. "You two seriously need to just fuck already." She complains. "Because y'all are getting out of hand backstage."

"Oh, I'm just having some fun, Zoey." You wave your hand dismissively. "Besides, that old man couldn't handle all of this." You gesture to yourself with a grin.

"If you say so." Zoey shrugs. "Oh, well damn. Look at that." She laughs and points across the room.

You glance in the direction Zoey is pointing and find Punk making a B-line across the room toward you. Zoey walks off and you are left alone to confront your annoyingly sexy rival.

"Finally think of a comeback old man?" You ask Punk with a wink.

"You've got a big fucking mouth, you know that?" Punk growls and grabs ahold of your arm. "Luckily for you, I have experience handling girls with too much attitude" He adds, now wearing a smirk that sightly concerns you.

You dig your heels into the carpet in protest to being dragged off. "Now hold on a second!"

"Oh, it's too late to beg, sweetheart. You're coming with me." Punk replies and continues to drag you off.

[byunpum]

I've been stuck on your page for the last few hours, I'm obsessed. can i ask for something?

reader and neteyam really don't like each other but recently reader has been depressed and sad with homesickness. he notices and decides to show her Pandora's beauty and convince her that life is worth living. she does not understand the intention since they are always fighting. (Can be smut or just fluff

Pair: Neteyam x Human reader

Tw: Cute, neteyam being cute baby boii, worried, falling in love.

Warning: the characters have 20's. None, fluff <3

AVATAR MASTERLIST

"Are you sure it's absolutely unfixable" you ask as you watch max try to repair your old laptop. It was really old, half the keyboard didn't work, the battery was a mess and if it lasted more than 20 minutes without the charger it was a miracle. But it was the only thing you had to remember your parents. On the laptop there were moments you had lived with them, old and badly recorded videos. Of jokes and domestic moments. They were precious to you… since they had passed away. Your parents were part of the scientists who were chosen to stay in Pandora, but when the RDA returned to Pandora and burned a large part of the forest, your parents were nearby and died. Luckily for you, you had stayed with the sullys and Mo'at. You were barely a year old. In that old computer was the only thing you appreciated. And now it was damaged.

"I'm sorry Y/N… the most I can do is try to recover the memories. But I can't promise anything" says max, trying to solve your problem. The man knows this is so precious to you. You get up from the desk. "I'm going for a walk, yes?" you speak up, grabbing your coat and heading out for a walk. "Ok, watch out" max says, he decides to check the computer again to see what he can do. You get out of the wagon where the lab was, and start walking through a rocky area of the cave, which was now your home. Damn…you felt so bad. Frustrated and sad. The day couldn't get any worse, but you feel a tap on your head. You ignore the knock, maybe a rock fell from the ceiling. You keep walking for several seconds until you feel another tap. You stand still and hear a chuckle in the background.

"Neteyam…I know it's you idiot!!!" you yell, and turn to see the navi boy, sitting high up on a rock. Your nightmare himself, or so you were telling him. You two had grown up together, when you were kids you were very close, everyone even joked about the little romance you two had. But when you became teenagers you drifted apart and now that you are older, all you do is argue. It wasn't a big argument, but you didn't talk to each other regularly anymore and you and Neteyam wouldn't stop arguing. You watch as the boy leaves his resting place and walks towards you. - "Are you okay? Do you look a little…" neteyam asks, bringing a hand close to your face, causing you to pull away. -"Can you leave me alone?" you say, pulling away. - "Hey, I was just going to ask you if you've seen kiri, you idiot?" says neteyam. You turn around and roll your eyes. - "No…I don't know where she is and I don't care" you continue on your way leaving the boy alone.

Neteyam started to wonder why you were so upset with him, it's not like you guys were the closest. But your attitude today was very…aggressive. He decided to ignore this moment and focus on finding his sister, after all that was more important. The days passed and neteyam could notice how you had been absent from some activities. Well, your activities with kiri, you were always with her and tuk. And he had barely seen you. It wasn't like he was worried about you, but he was worried about his sisters. They were missing you. -"She must be sick," says tuk, to his sister. Kiri, tuk and neteyam were on their way to the lab where they always met you. -"I doubt it… she was fine. Maybe someone here said something stupid," says Kiri, looking at his older brother. Neteyam makes a face. -"I didn't do anything to her… they know I don't talk to her," says neteyam.

-"You don't talk to her…but you know where she is all the time," tuk speaks in a mocking voice. Causing his brother to blush, neteyam makes the greatest attempt to hide his embarrassment. The brothers arrive at the lab, and see that it's just max. -" "Hey guys, how are you?" the man is working with some new samples. -"Max…glad you're here, hey what's going on with Y/N. We haven't heard from her in days" asks Kiri. Max adjusts his hair a bit, and sighs. - "She's fine…it's just." the man bends down and pulls out something destroyed from under his desk. It's similar to the monitors his father has in the hut. -"What is that?" neteyam walks over to examine the object. -" This is a laptop, here…here were videos and memories of y/n's parents" says max, you could hear the sad voice.

-"She really appreciated this, but it's very old. So it broke," max keeps the pieces of the laptop under his desk. - "So she's just sad?" says tuk, the girl is worried about you. -"Yes, but don't worry, she'll be fine. She just needs space," says max, as he continues to work on his samples. -"Can we go to her room?" asks Kiri, Max says yes and they all go to Y/N's room. When they get there, they can see how the door is half open… Kiri and Tuk rush in. But neteyam stays at the edge of the door. They are silent, because they notice that you are fast asleep. But your face was swollen, they could tell you had cried yourself to sleep. The girls decide to leave your room, and let you rest.

After that day neteyam couldn't stop thinking about you, shit… he had never seen you so depressed. So he decided to do something about it. Neteyam sees how his father is looking at those weird monitors. -"Dad… what's that thing you use to store memories?" asks Neteyam. Jake laughs a little at his son's choice of words. -"Are you talking about the camera?" asks Jake, neteyam smiles in approval. - "Well…the camera is used to take pictures and also to record videos." jake says. Neteyam is thoughtful for a moment. - "Videos…like saved moments?" says neteyam. - "Yes…moments that are captured and you can watch them all the time," says Jake. The man can see his son in his deep thought, he sees how the ears were twitching and his tail was wagging slowly.

"What are you thinking?" asks jake, but neteyam says nothing and just says goodbye to his father and runs out of the hut. The night came quickly, and you had gone out to look for something in some boxes that were outside the lab wagon. It was the first time you had left your room in a whole week. "Hello" you recognize the voice, but compared to other times…this time it sounded soft. You turn around to see who it was. Neteyam was behind you, he looked so good. You could tell he had fixed the braids in his hair, and bet he had gone to the river. And he had new clothes on his body. -"Hi… everything okay?" you say, in comparison to you, who only had on a pair of legging shorts and a crop top. -"Are you busy?" asked neteyam, this took you by surprise because you swore you were going to say something stupid. -"mmm no…why?" you say, as you watch neteyam come a little closer. You can visualize his tail wagging faster behind him. -"Do you want to take a ride on the ikran?" asks neteyam, he is talking fast.

You keep quiet for a moment, it's been a long time since neteyam had been… not very nice to say the least. And now he's behaving like this? What was he planning? -"Are you going to throw me from the heights?" you speak, crossing your arms across your chest. Neteyam laughs a little, and pulls out a small bundle from his bag that was hanging around his waist. From what you can analyze, it was an outfit. -"Look… I made this for you. Why don't you put it on. I'll be waiting for you my ikran" before you protested, neteyam tapped your head and walked out to her ikran. You look at the clothes he had given you, they were beautiful. It was hand woven and with beautiful beads and stones. You didn't want to argue or ask too much about the why of things. So you decide to change your clothes, at least you were going to wear the top. And you hadn't been out for a week, what could go wrong. After changing you get to where neteyam was.

-"It looks great on you," says Neteyam, smiling at you. - "How did you know my measurements?" you ask, as you approach neteyam's ikran. -"I don't know…I just guessed. Or I got lucky" neteyam helps you onto the ikran, and he sits behind you. Placing one of his hands on your hip. Sometimes you forget how big he is, because you can notice how his hand closes around your waist. -"Well…let's go!" says neteyam ordering his ikran to start taking off. This trip was what you needed to clear your mind. These days had been hard for you and you were actually enjoying all this. You had your hands up and let the air hit your face as you screamed. You could feel neteyam's laughter behind you, and as his grip on your waist grew tighter. You place one of your hands on top of his, and look up to look at him. Neteyam gives you a smile, ohh eywa… how you liked this boy. He looked so cute, he looked so happy. And the simple fact that he was making you feel happy made your feelings grow even more.

After flying for 1 hour, neteyam decides to land in a specific zone that he had planned, in the last hours. They arrive and you get off the ikran quite happy and more animated than at the beginning. -"Where are we going?" you ask, but neteyam says nothing. He just takes your small hand and drags you deeper into the jungle. As you go deeper you can see how the colors intensify, even more than you had seen before. You can see how everything has a life of its own, how everything is in harmony. Everything was so beautiful. You come to a kind of tree that is bordered by a river. -"This is…wow" you speak, you had no words to describe what you seeing. -"Do you like it?" asks neteyam, you see how the boy sits down on the grass, and you join him. -"Do I like it? I love all this…it's so" your eyes fill a little with tears. "I thought it was a good idea…so you could have more memories. Here" says neteyam pointing to your head. You open your eyes, and he can see tears welling up in your eyes. -I'm sorry… I don't want to cry. besides, why are you acting like this? You've never been…you know" you try to change the subject.

Neteyam comes closer to you. You can feel his tail tapping you on your back. He looked nervous and started playing with his fingers. -"Well…I feel a little bad for treating you that way. I thought you didn't want to spend any more time with me and I just…" says Neteyam, trying to put his words together to make some sense. -"I didn't want to spend time with you? You're the one who walked away!!!" you say, pushing him a little. You both fell silent until you started laughing. -" So all this time…it was a misunderstanding" says neteyam, you just smile. And you keep looking at the jungle lighting. Neteyam stares at your face, and you see how the lights illuminated the exact spots. As the color of your eyes got stronger and the cool breeze moved your hair. -"I hope this… helps your sadness a little," says Neteyam. You look at him and give him a tender smile. - "Yes…it does" you lean back on his arm, enjoying the tranquility.

-"Oh…wait. Don't move" neteyam says, quickly getting up and running a corner of the tree. The boy pulls out some sort of border made of wood. He puts it in front of you and then sits down at the other end. -" click…in 1,2 and 3…recording running" neteyam has a giant smile on his face, as he starts running around you. Imitating an ikran and making his noises. -"What are you doing?" you laugh at his actions, but can't help but smile. Neteyam kneels in front of the frame, and pokes his head through the wood. "I'm recording a new memory for you" neteyam speaks, as once again he watch the tears well up in your eyes.

-"Oh…are you sad?" you lean in close to his face and kiss him on the lips. You were grateful for the new technology Norm had created (I'm talking about the new masks here). If only he knew that this detail had brightened your existence. The kiss was warm and sweet, you have your hands wrapped around his cheeks to bring him closer to you and he is leaning down to reach your height. As you pull away, you see neteyam's pupils dilate and his little ears move quickly. -"No silly…I'm happy…I'm in love" you shout. You get up from the floor and start doing the same thing he was doing before, waving your hands in the air. Neteyam just stares at you, maybe…he was the one who was recording a new memory.

[genderqueerdykes]

finding out i'm intersex has been the most relieving, freeing thing i've experienced, second only to starting testosterone. like... finally knowing why my body was so different from my perisex transmasc peers', why i could never relate to them, why i always gravitated towards intersex discussions of their development--because hold on a minute, that sounds familiar!

i felt just like. really ashamed for a long time. ashamed for relating to intersex folks (because i was worried about "co-opting their experiences" no matter how silent i stayed about my experiences, no matter how much i denied the Strangeness around my own bodily development, no matter how much i tried to reassure myself that it's okay to relate to people who aren't necessarily like me, etc--the moral OCD probably made this a thousand times worse), ashamed for never relating to perisex [transmasc] folks, and just. Ashamed.

things finally clicked into place for me recently ("hold on, wtf do you mean growing multiple, actual beard hairs at 16 (pre-T!) when all of your cis, perisex male relatives only started growing their facial hair in their early 20s at the very earliest is 'normal perisex development'? that feels completely backwards. like wildly backwards. dude, you're nearly a year and a half on T and you've gotten absolutely 0 fat redistribution, all that's happened is you've gained weight and muscle; your body generally has the exact same ratios part-to-part as it did before, just Bigger/More. buddy, you were a fucking baritone pre-T, which is wildly deep for someone who is presumably perisex and was afab. pal, every single effect of testosterone happened WAY sooner and more 'severely' than expected (except for the fat redistribution, which didn't happen at all because your fat distribution was already extraordinarily masculine), you're extremely sensitive to testosterone HRT in a way most perisex people probably would not be. friend, you have notably high testosterone levels and the only reason nobody mentioned it is probably because you were tested to go on testosterone, not because of other concerns (that you never mentioned), thus leading to them thinking it was a non-issue, or at least would be a non-issue in a few months since you were going on T anyways--and also, when has anybody ever mentioned that you've had notably high or low levels of anything? it took you months after the corresponding blood test to learn you had an iron deficiency requiring 130mg in iron supplements every day until you no longer got your period! why would they ever mention the high testosterone levels to you???"--etc etc, i could probably go on for hours) and it's been. possibly The Best Thing for my self confidence and mental health. it feels obvious in hindsight, but hindsight is also 20/20. and also i was riddled with moral OCD and fears of doing/saying/feeling/thinking Something Wrong. following you and hearing your experiences and thoughts has probably helped the most since it like. made the possibility of me being intersex Less Scary to consider.

anyways. Yeah. just needed to ramble about this somewhere/to someone since i'm not really in any intersex spaces (at least, none that i feel comfortable talking much in) and it's a lot to bottle up, even if it's by and large positive hdsgjs hope you don't mind lol

you know, the thing people need to realize is often times there is a lot of time that passes before someone realizes they're intersex. like for a lot of intersex people, not all, but a lot, it takes a really long time to figure that out. and they may question being intersex by reading others' experiences. that's not a bad thing i don't see how it's bad for someone to educate themselves and go. wow that really feels like me. i see myself in this

people get so hostile and mad towards people who are questioning and its like. we ALL go through a questioning phase when it comes to adopting queer identities. you don't just pop into existence knowing the words for all of your experiences. you have to learn somewhere. we have to be kinder to people who don't know what their experience is just yet

i'm glad realizing that has been good for you! i felt the same way when i realized it i was like ??? why can't i relate to a lot of these experiences. being intersex can be a super unique experience that makes you feel like a total outlier. i'm glad you now have a word and a community for who you are and what you're going through! thanks for stopping by, i really appreciate hearing from you! let us know if you need any help down the road

[try-set-me-on-fire]

Hi, me again, this time with the prompt "6. coffee in bed" 🙏

Send me soft prompts! Find the finished ones on AO3!

Buck has long since resigned himself to the fact that his sleep schedule is well and truly fucked. 24 hour shifts were all well and good in his 20s, but now at the ripe old age of 32 he collapses as soon as he gets home like someone’s hit a hard reset switch, and he never knows if he’ll wake up in an hour or ten. Frankly, he doesn’t know how Bobby is still upright, though he’d never say it to his face.

So, blinking awake on a Sunday (maybe) morning (possibly) in June, he has no idea how long he’s been down. His eyes are glued shut, so probably a while. He throws an arm out and it smacks immediately into Eddie, who grunts.

“Morning?” It’s sort of a greeting and sort of a question, and he feels weight shift on the bed as Eddie cranes to check the clock.

“9:15.”

“Mm.” Buck scrubs a hand over his face and blinks open his eyes. Eddie looks like he's just been taken out of one of those vacuum seal bags you pack your clothes in when you're trying to save space in a suitcase, and Buck has to lean over and kiss him about it.

"Oh my god, Buck," Eddie mumbles, pushing him away with his whole hand smushed against his face. "Did you eat roadkill for dinner?"

"Don't you insult Bobby's casserole like that." Buck goes for Eddie's neck instead but ends up yawning against his jugular. "Fuck. I'm gonna get coffee." He starts to roll over but Eddie slings an arm around him and pulls him back down.

"It's being taken care of," he says, burying his face into Buck's shoulder. "Act surprised."

Buck makes a questioning face at him, but his boyfriend is busy being half asleep again and nuzzling his pec, so he just lays there squinting at the ceiling and wondering if Eddie has developed some sort of coffee based telekinesis. He's started thinking about practical applications in the field (does it have to be hot coffee? How big a container can it be in? Can they just start remotely dumping venti iced lattes on fires?) when Chris enters the room, carefully transporting two mugs. Eddie flops onto his back and then flops upright, passing the mugs to Buck and pulling Chris down for a kiss on the forehead.

"Happy father's day," Chris says, only scrunching his nose a little at the display of affection.

"Thanks, kid," Eddie smiles at him, already flapping a hand at Buck to get his coffee back. He takes a sip as Chris leaves the room again, and Buck holds onto the other warm ceramic in his hands, suddenly feeling very awake and a little awkward.

"Uh- I can head out, if you want."

Eddie squints at him over his coffee. "Why?"

Buck waves towards the kitchen. "You know, if you and Chris want to spend the day together."

Eddie's still making a face at him. "Buck-"

Whatever he was going to say is interrupted by Chris returning, even more carefully balancing a tray of food in his arms. He sets it down on the bed and Eddie eagerly pulls it over, grabbing a waffle piled high with whip cream.

"Cards first!" Chris admonishes, sitting at the foot of the bed.

"Oh, o-kay, okay," Eddie laughs, picking up one of two folded pieces of paper tucked under the plates.

"Two cards!" Buck grins, stretching his foot under the covers to nudge Chris. "Your dad's a lucky guy."

Chris makes the same face his dad had just been making. "One's for you, Buck."

Buck's pretty sure his face makes the exact expression of the emoticon with the colon and the capital o. "Me?"

"Yeah," Chris says, like obviously Buck gets a father's day card, duh, don't be stupid. Buck kind of just freezes there, rebooting, until Eddie grabs the paper and swaps it with the mug still clutched in his hand and he looks down to read it automatically.

On the front, in suspenseful italic, are the words "When Rodan flaps his wings…" and Buck coughs out a laugh, remembering last month's Godzilla night where they'd stayed up way too late watching movies while Eddie was covering for someone on B shift. He opens the card and doesn't start crying immediately, thank you, he lasts a few seconds with dry eyes. On the inside is a full spread drawing of the fiery pteranodon looming over the city of Los Angeles. On the bottom left a firefighter stands on a rooftop, blasting him in the face with a hose. Written in the sky is "... Buck saves the day!"

"Told you he'd cry," Eddie says, smug. Buck tries to glare at him but he's just a big blur through the tears.

"You're so mean to me," he croaks, reaching out blindly for moral support from Christopher, the superior Diaz. Chris shuffles over and wraps him in a hug which, oh boy, doesn't help the crying situation. "Th-thank you," he manages to get out, clinging to the kid a little and fully expecting him to pull away all huffy and teenager-like.

Chris just rests his head against Buck's. "You've been my dad, like, forever," he says quietly, and, really, it's too early in the day to be put through a trash compactor like this. "I probably should have made more cards to make up for the other years."

Buck makes a sound like "gk!" and feels Eddie's hand on his side. "Well, we don't want him to actually keel over. That would be an embarrassing ambulance ride."

Buck laughs, and it sounds wet and gross, and then kisses the side of Chris's head, which probably feels wet and gross. "I love you, so much."

"I know," Chris says, grinning. "I love you too, Buck. Eat your waffle. I put sprinkles on it!"

Buck laughs again, and pulls Chris up onto the bed with them to share. He's big, growing up so quick, and two grown men and a teenager are a pretty cramped fit on a queen mattress, but none of the three members of this family that Buck somehow, miraculously belongs to minds the proximity.

"Happy father's day, Buck," Eddie says, eyes heart twistingly soft as he kisses Buck's cheek. "Glad you're here with me. With us."

Buck makes a face as his eyes start stinging again, and covers Chris's eyes so he can lean forward and kiss Eddie on the mouth, quick. "No place I'd rather be."

[caffieneaddictt18]

Mate

werewolf x reader who works at Walmart - just meeting. Kind of random but i get bored at work sooo....

"Yo, yo, yo, what's poppin?" I ask as I approach a couple with a baby, probably in their late 20s. My hand is already blindly grabbing for my name badge.

"Hi!" The woman says smiling, "The machine just stopped and said something about a scale. I'm just trying to weigh my zucchini."

The man next to her nods as he plays with the baby, as to back her up. I don't necessarily care.

My shins are starting to hurt... I thought the new ortho shoes would help...

My hands go through the practiced motion of taking whatever was on the scale off, pressing the button for zucchini, and then weighing it. Aka, the only way to weigh your produce that doesn't throw the machine into a hissy-fit.

"Easy-peasy," I slap on my customer service voice like the passed on Queen of England decided to step into Wal-Mart, "Just make sure to press the button beforehand, and then weigh the produce. And it's so funky." I try to make it relatable for the woman, "Some produce needs to be weighed and others need to be counted. It gets confusing." I smile and see her smiling in relief, thankful that someone understands her.

Someone does but it aint me. This is my whole ass job.

I smile and say the unforgettable 'Have a great day!' before leaving and having to walk around the self-check.

New big boss gonna fire me if I stop walking... fucking bullshit. I see a toy that was placed on a chip shelf and mess with it as I go to put it away.

"Hey! Hey! Girl!" Someone snaps their fingers at me. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, smiling a smile that would put Alastor to shame.

"Hello! What seems to be the problem today?" My customer service voice is getting strained as I see it's just an old man wanting to buy alcohol.

"The machine will need you to check my age when I buy this alcohol." He gestures to the cart that has it's undercarriage filled with Modelo.

I look at his order on his screen and scroll through it. "Well, sir, it looks like you haven't scanned it yet, so I can't give you the go ahead; But once you do, I can definitely give you the go ahead to buy it." I throw it back in his face, trying to make him feel as stupid as possible. He scoffs and takes the hand scanner off the terminal and it starts beeping loudly at him.

"Stop yelling at me!" He shouts, frustrated that it won't stop beeping and won't scan his beer.

"Well, sir, it is a machine, so it can't yell at you. It doesn't have a mouth. It's just beeping because the batteries are going out, but you can definitely wait until the hand scanner flashes green, and then it should work." I patiently wait for him to put it back on the terminal. And once it flashes green, he scans the beer.

The first notification, asking if the customer looks younger than 40, pops up. I look back at the man and size him up and down before pressing 'No'.

"Have a great day, sir!" I bounce away and continue walking around. I see a group of men who are all standing around quietly, just simply waiting. Their light is flashing red and they are being silent. It's definitely a nice change.

I walk over. "Hey there. Sorry to bother you, but I gotta fix this. Sorry." I look at the screen... and it's a mis-scan. My boss is gonna hate me...

"Sorry about the wait, guys! It's been a busy day." I think back to when someone dropped a whole gallon of whole milk and it leaked into the aisle next to it. We had to use two whole things of spill clean-up... my anxiety has been high ever since. Could also just be the 5 Hour Energy and Redbull I chugged, but meh.

"No problem. I could tell." The obvious leader of their band of friends talks, as if talking for the whole group. One of the guys has a faint blush on his face and the others are laughing, talking about their plans.

I watch the little video the camera produced and determine that it was just an old bag crossing over the scanner without being scanned... cuz it is an old bag.

"Oops. Looks like it's just the bag. The machine must've just gotten confused. Sorry about that." I smile and wave before giving them the go-ahead to keep scanning.

"No worries. Thank you."

"Anytime."

I think back to the one guy who was blushing and leaning on the cart's handle. He's kinda cute... and hot. What the fuck.

Meh whatever. Just focus on work- I did it, I did, I jumped-

"Hey! Girl! I need you to ring up my groceries for me!" I silently sigh and walk over.

"Of course, sir!"

Another day in the life of a person at Wal-Mart.

__________________________________________

Author's Cup of Tea:

Im ngl, i thought about this while I was changing prices in the cigarette cases. It took 4 hours to do all of the price changes😭

[awxcoffeexno]

me and my husband

husband!joel x reader

fic masterlist summary: you've been married for years now but somewhere along the way you both seem to have lost yourself.

content: angst, angst, angst, nothing new here, overwhelming sadness, inspired by mitski's me and my husband, both characters are sad, mentions of a fight (no use of y/n, no outbreak, age gap (reader is in her 20s, joel is in his 40s)), unedited, I'm sorry

word count: 815 - it's a short one, boys

a/n: yes my dissertation is due in a week. no, i'd much rather write shitty fics. someone please send help.

you feel the tension in the air, a palpable undercurrent that buzzes like static electricity on a humid summer day in austin.

the sunset casts its golden rays through the windows, but its warmth barely touches you. you've fought with joel just hours before the party. words were hurled, apologies left unspoken. now, you both play the roles you've perfected over the years: the ever-gracious hosts.

the party is to celebrate the 20-year anniversary of joel's contracting business, a milestone that should be joyous. the backyard is decorated with fairy lights that hang from tree branches, casting a soft glow that dances over faces and on the surface of wine glasses. guests arrive in little clusters, their laughter and chatter a discordant melody that grates at your nerves.

joel comes over, his furrowed brow betraying the storm that raged earlier. "ya holdin' up alright, darlin'?" there's an edge to his voice, a gruff tautness you recognise all too well.

"just tired," you say, feeling the weight of each syllable as it drops from your lips, a heavy burden you can no longer carry gracefully.

his eyes search yours, perhaps looking for a crack in your facade, a small sign that you might shatter. "we got guests. act like you care, would ya?"

you sigh, brushing a stray lock of hair away from your eyes, a fleeting distraction from the emptiness that gnaws at your soul. you walk away to greet another arriving guest, the distance between you and joel stretching far beyond the few feet of physical space.

a neighbour, carol, sidles up to you. "oh, this punch is just divine. you must give me the recipe," she chirps, her voice a high pitched tune that doesn't quite match the somber tones playing in your head.

carol doesn't like you, she never has. this facade she only puts on for when others are around. she makes your heavy heart give way to a little bit of irritation.

"of course," you smile, sickly sweet to match hers, "it's a family recipe. I'll email it to you."

"you're a darling!" she gushes, completely unaware of the irony, as she moves along to another conversation, another cluster of fake smiles and empty words.

the night drags on like molasses, slow and suffocating. every moment is a reminder of your solitude amidst a sea of faces. the air feels thick, as though the evening itself is steeped in a sorrow only you can taste. your interactions are mechanical—smiles painted on, laughs canned, compliments rehearsed. the sadness in the room is an untouchable entity. it's in the space between your hand and joel's as you pass each other. it's in the half hearted conversation you make, in the loaded silence that screams louder than any words could.

you catch sight of joel as he stands alone, his eyes momentarily unfocused. it's a look you've seen before, one that he usually reserves for moments of deep reflection, or perhaps regret. but it's gone in an instant as he turns to shake a hand, to laugh at a joke, to be the man everyone expects him to be.

finally, the last guest leaves, and the two of you are left in the emptiness that now fills your home. the fairy lights seem dimmer, the night warmer, the silence unbearable. joel walks over to you, his face a mixture of exhaustion and relief. "reckon we made it through another one," he says, looking down at his worn boots before meeting your eyes.

you force a smile, your lips almost trembling under the effort. "yes, we are doing better," you murmur, your voice barely rising above a whisper, lost in the empty spaces that stretch between you.

better, you think. not good, not happy, but better. better is a bandage over a gaping wound, a single raindrop in a drought, a whispered lullaby in a cacophony of cries. you hold onto 'better' like a lifeline, even as you sink deeper into the abyss of your thoughts, each one darker than the last.

"comin' to bed, darlin'?" joel's voice cuts through your reverie, pulling you back to a reality you're not sure you want to face.

"in a minute," you respond, your voice distant, like a shadow cast long and thin by the dying light.

you stand alone in the quiet, your fingers lightly touching the cool marble of the counter. you realize that you've successfully upheld the illusion of a perfect life for yet another night. but in this silence, your act is irrelevant; it's just you, your lingering thoughts, and a growing sense of dread.

you walk towards the bedroom, hesitating for a moment at the doorway. you look at joel, who lies there with his eyes closed, tired from the night. you think of the years that have stretched long and tiring, a road paved with compromises, misunderstandings, and an increasingly elusive love. the room is dim, and it welcomes you with the promise of another night spent side by side but oceans apart. -- hi, thanks so much for reading!! I'm so very sorry about writing another depressing joel fic but ya girl's got issues, okay? one day i will write a happy fic, but today is not that day. please let me know if you liked this, and thanks again! love, d 🖤

[druidx]

Her Countenance was Light - Chapter 49

CW: None AO3 ; Chapters: 01. 10. 20. 30. 40. 41. 42. 43. 44. 45. 46. 47. 48 Tag list (ask for +/-): @aquadestinyswriting, @hannah-heartstrings, @jacqueswriteblrlibrary, @babyblueetbaemonster @mr-orion

Elo dozes in the car, tucked against Farren's side. When they arrive at his place, he carries her up the stairs to his condo. Elo doesn't have it in her to argue.

She sleeps some on his couch, surrounded by scents and noises that mean home and safety. Monday wakes her up to slurp down some water that tastes weirdly of bread and sugar, and gently helps her with a bowl of beef broth. She goes back to dozing to the low babble of conversation from her colleagues. Maybe an hour after they arrived, the doorbell goes. Yates places a placating hand on her shoulder when she starts awake. Farren allows entrance to a woman in a smart, starched white dress carrying a doctor's bag. She kneels in front of Elo, honey-brown hair pinned back and an easy smile on her pretty rosebud lips. "Hello, Detective. I'm Nurse Rowlands. Detective Breakwood asked me to stop by and check how you're doing. Would you lift your shirt please, so I can listen to your breathing?" "Anything for a pretty face," she says. The nurse rolls her eyes and proceeds to check Elo's vitals. When she's done, Farren, with arms crossed tight over his chest, asks, "So what's the prognosis?" "Her heart rate is a little higher than I'd like, but it's strong." Rowlands pulls out a clipboard and writes on it then passes it over to Monday, hovering next to Farren. "Check it again in two hours, and if it's still high, take her to the emergency room. Aside from that, just keep up her fluids, and with some rest, she'll be perfectly fine." "Fine enough to take you for a drink?" Elo asks. Rowlands laughs and pats her knee. "That's sweet, but no thank you." "You sure? I'm only here for another week." Rowlands laughs again and stands, collecting her bag. She gives Farren a meaningful glance. "No alcohol." He walks Rowlands to the door and gives her a peck on the cheek. "Thanks." "Take care," Rowlands says and is gone.

Elo feels noticeably perkier after the nurse's visit, so is less dozy when the telephone rings half an hour later. Cobbleskater gets to it first. "Hello?… Yes… Understood… She's recovering well… Of course… About 40 minutes, depending on traffic… A beige Buick Centurion, plate number RA7 5PY… Understood… Roger that." He hangs up. "That was the General's security team. They want us to take Elo over now." Elo uncurls herself for the corner of the sofa, her face drawn. Farren glances over but his empty eyes don't quite meet hers. "Alright, lads," says Monday, "Let's roll out."

–––

They nose through the throng of people outside Strucker's house and the driveway gates are shut behind them. Elo stares at the big house. Most of the windows are dark. She thinks again about Strucker rattling around in there on his own. How the house will be filled with serious martial murmuring, instead of buoyant laughter. The door opens, letting in a rush of cold air. Before she can protest, Farren has scooped her up, carrying her towards the door. "My legs do work, you know." "Yeah, I know." "You can put me down anytime now." "Mmhm." Elo sighs and stops protesting. Besides, Farren is warm and the night is not.

Inside the house, Strucker is waiting for them. Farren lets her down, and Elo clasps Stucker in a rough hug. "Not gone to the noose," she whispers. "But still… A year gone…" "Is nothing. Not nearly as bad as it could have been." They break apart, and Johan gruffly clears his throat. "The bed's made up. There's cold cuts, if you're hungry." Elo shakes her head. "The lads fed me. Besides, I've only got two strong needs right now. One is a tipple, the other is more sleep, and I'd prefer them in that order." "Nurse Rowlands said no booze," Farren says, frowning. "C'mon," Elo weedles. "Don't you think I deserve a little something after the day I've had." Strucker is already headed towards the den. Farren throws up his hands. "Fine. Just one."

The three of them enter the den; Monday is liaising with Strucker's security, and Yates and Cobbleskater are already bivouacking somewhere in the house, ready to take their turn at watching her door – an absolute necessity, apparently, despite the phalanx of other security measures in place. Strucker, taking up station behind the wet bar, pours them all a drink, and they clink glasses. "Here's to not going to the noose." "Here, here," the others echo. The liquor is sipped in a contemplative silence. Elo finishes her drink and puts a hand over her mouth to hide a yawn. Stucker's eyes twinkle. "Bedtime for you, I think." She makes an affirmative murmur. "All the other bollocks can wait until tomorrow." Strucker grins. "Eloquently said." Farren plucks the glass out of her hand and places it down. "Right, I'm cutting you off. Come on." "Yeah, yeah." Elo slides off the wet bar stool with some degree of grace, albeit in the lower numerals.

Farren helps her up the stairs and into her room. She flops down on the bed, slumping over on her side. "You gonna be okay?" he asks. Elo groans into the mattress. "I don't know. Doesn't matter. 'Feelings' come under the heading of 'other bollocks' and can wait until tomorrow. Brek, I love you, but bugger off would you? I need sleep." Farren snorts and starts helping her take her boots off. "Well, now I've seen everything. First, you let yourself be coddled and now you openly admit even you need rest. Next, the sky'll be filled with fire and ash, and the end times will be upon us." "Fuck off," she says with a tired laugh. "Fucking off, ma'am," Farren says, closing the door behind him.

–––

She isn't sure how long she's slept before she's woken by the feeling of being watched. Elo lies still, staring into the dark. Could be her imagination. Could be Farren or one of the others checking on her. It doesn't feel like that though. She huffs a sigh and twists so she can look around the room. In the deep darkness of the corner at the foot of the bed are a pair of eyes, glowing like twin coals. She sits up. "Snotgrut?" "Kasskekadmas," he amends evenly. Elo groans and flops backwards, pulling the covers over her head. "Come back tomorrow," she says, voice muffled by the blankets. "I'm not in the mood for a fight." There is a noise, like cracking ice, that could be laughter. "Youse kin relax, Atnešė, I ain't here for a fight." Elo pulls the covers back down and squints at the figure. "I came to keep me watch, as promised. Didn't mean to wake youse." "Snotgrut–" "Kasskekadmas." "Kasskekadmas, what happened to your voice?" There is that crackling laugh again. "Finally noticed, did ya?" he says. "May as well ask what happened to the rest of me too." Snotgrut, who is apparently no longer just Snotgrut, stands and paces to the centre of the room. Against the haze of the wall, he looks taller. He makes a gesture towards the window. Clouds pull back from Aukštasvilkas' silver eye so Elo can see him in the moon-blue slice through her curtains. Elo sits up, arms wrapped around her knees as she regards him.

He's definitely taller. His build is the same, still narrow and pointy. There's less of a potbelly, his ears have lost their point and his skin is smooth. It's hard to tell in the moonlight, but she thinks he's no longer green – maybe tan or olive. He's still wearing the scraps Cobbleskater found for him, a trilby and trench coat draped over the arm of the clothes chair in the corner. "What happened to you?" "Funny thing, eh?" From someplace, he pulls a cigarillo of all things – bent and crushed – and puts it in his mouth. "I was trottin' along, on me way to the liddle meet you called, when I got this pain in my chest. Right sharp, like I'd been stabbed or somesuch. So I'm there, near to keeling over cuz it hurts like buggery, when I sees that I'm in a puddle of moonlight. And that's not so strange, mebby, 'cept I think my eyes is playing tricks, cuz the damn thing's getting bigger… Here, doll, youse mind lighting me up?" He waves the cigarillo at her. "Sure," she says, although she's not sure she believes that she actually can. She lifts a finger, holding it towards the end of the cigarillo, and thinks about the baking sun, angled through a lens at a patch of punk. A flame, weak and stuttering, appears, enough for Snotgrut to get a draw. He takes a deep lungful, leaning back and letting the cloud out towards the ceiling. Elo pinches her flame out. "You were saying?" she prompts as he wanders back to the chair. "Yuh… So that puddle, it swallowed me up, see? And I got explained to me a thing or two about how the old Dvasia boss weren't no good and how I was gonna be the next, and… Well." He takes another long draw on the cigarillo. "Youse remember tellin' me how you burnt? And you asked if I ever felt anything like it, but with ice? Yeah, well, now I have, 'xactly like how you said." He takes another suck on the cigarillo. "So… Looks like I'm the boss now, eh?"

He looks lost, she thinks. Shell-shocked and confused. She wonders if this is something he ever wanted, ever even thought about. She wonders if he's had anyone to talk it over with, if he reached out for help from anyone. From the look on his face, they couldn't have been too helpful if he did. She thinks she should've looked for him, instead of waiting for the new Kasskekadmas to come to her. But until the trial, she'd relegated all this back to the land of make-believe. "Youse gonna say anything?" "Hmm." "More'n that I meant." "What do you want me to say – congratulations, commiserations?" Elo sighs tiredly. "Someone has to bear the light. If not us, then who?" She shakes her head. "We've got a lot of work to do, sure. A lot of things to set straight, a workaround for Drakemar's monkey wrench–" "Youse mean what the Dragon said?" "Yeah. The dragon." For a moment Elo feels pleased that she wasn't imagining it when she looked at the man and saw instead the echo of a giant, fire-breathing wyrm. "I've been thinking about that. And, well, youse know how to write Eshen. And that oldster, Aster – afore you came along they used to talk to Bonerot, so they kin translate anything you say into Dvasia for me." Elo's eyebrows raise. "You'd willingly go to an Eshen for help?" "Came to youse, didn't I?" Snotgrut crosses his arms and pouts. "We both know you didn't come to me for help." Elo grins. "You just accepted the coffee in the spirit it was given." He grumbles something. Elo gives another tired sigh. "A lot to figure out, for sure. But it can wait until I've had a full night's sleep, okay?" He squints as if only now realising she's dead tired. "Sure thing, doll. Don't let me keep ya." Snotgrut – because she cannot get used to calling him by a title made ugly by another – melts back into the shadows of the chair and starts to hum a soulful little tune that eases Elo back into the land of sleep.

[jmdbjk]

Bangtan Weekly Report: Festa Week

I am Army for about 3 years but loved them all 10 years...

saw someone say something similar the other day and its so true.

Millions of dollars spent on this almost month-long Festa and all for free to us. The 30 minutes of fireworks alone were estimated at $5 million USD. Now do you understand why those big sponsors were so important?

It is estimated that 400,000 attended the one day event that included Namjoon's presentation and the fireworks finale with about 120,000 being foreigners and 2000 being security manning the event. Perspective: Lollapalooza has an attendance of up to 100,000 per day. This 10th Anniversary Festa was ONE DAY.

400,000 ... almost half a million people on one day ... let that sink in.

View of the fireworks from around the other side of the river:

Drone view:

Fireworks began with Mikrokosmos, one of my favorites and right away I'm having trouble holding back the tears. Ever since YTC Busan, Butterfly has become one of those songs that makes me overly emotional but I found myself getting emotional even when hearing Fire, Dynamite and Take Two playing with the fireworks coordinated to the beat.

Watch 8-hour coverage of the day from JBTC News (gives a good idea of the number of people attending during the day-long event.)

Watch the entire fireworks show on Weverse. It begins with a message from Yoongi.

A translation of Jungkook's narration during the fireworks.

During Namjoon's event, the members called in. 32 minutes in Jungkook calls in from Los Angeles and apparently, Joon didn't realize it was JK EVEN AFTER HE SANG A FEW LINES OF TAKE TWO... JOON????? About 39 minutes in, Tae calls in and about 58 minutes into it, we hear Jimin conducting an Army quiz. I hope they add English subtitles soon.

More on Take Two:

I was asked what I thought "Take Two" meant in the context of the song lyrics...

...We been walkin' so many ways I feel like my heart will explode Can't you see the take two? Stories unfolding just for you youth with you hold my hand now ... When I got you by my side along the road we walked together Oh, we young forever ... Since we're together, I'm not afraid to wish for eternity ... I hold you in my arms Can't you see the take two? Letters I didn't send to you .... Oh, we young forever It was possible because I was with you

If I had to sum it up in one idea I would say they trust us to hold their youth within us. To remember their ten years so far. We are entrusted to keep that with us.

Because they are leaping off one by one into the thing that will supposedly change them in ways they don't even know yet. And they want these last ten years of their lives to be safe in us because this was a very special time of their lives.

I mean, who in this world can say they spent the youth of their teens and 20s as BTS, the group that never stopped running forward for almost ten years and rose to be a global phenomenon?

Only seven people in the world can say it: Kim Namjoon, Kim Seokjin, Min Yoongi, Jung Hoseok, Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung and Jeon Jungkook.

Who else is going to remember their youth for them? Us, they only have us: Army.

A K-media article wrote about Take Two and specifically about Jimin's vocals, and besides describing Jimin as being the pillar of BTS songs, he went on saying this:

"In addition, Jimin showed a wide range of vocals, from soft mid-bass to high-pitched parts, and maximized the charm of the song with a unique and angelic voice praised by numerous vocal experts, giving a gift of ecstasy like an aurora."

Aurora... that is a PERFECT description of the sounds that come out of Jimin's throat when he sings.

I have maintained since the first time I listened to the song that Jimin's presence is heard throughout the song. Here is the Jimin focus cam.

About Song leaks:

There have been a lot of so-called "leaks" being passed around of Jungkook's songs. These could just be clips of discarded songs, discarded guides for group songs or even AI... who knows. Songs get written and progress gets made on them and then they end up not using them at all.

If the leaks are legit songs about to be on an album, I'm not sure how someone can continue to leak them and get away with it. I think the same has happened to songs that are supposed to be Tae's work. Leaks like this make an artist's work vulnerable to plagiarism and copyright theft.

Speaking of discarded songs... I've seen a lot of people talking about the number of songs that get included on albums and also why old songs get released years after they are written and produced.

I'm not a music industry expert but its a well-known thing that an artist is typically continually writing and recording music. Out of all the songs they produce, an artist will choose the ones that fit the theme/tone/vibe of an album/collection to release together. Many songs never make it. But that doesn't mean they aren't good songs, they just aren't what the artist wants at that moment in time.

So much music and lyrics are timeless so it doesn't matter when a song is written, if it resonates, it is relevant. I would bet Jimin had several songs he could have put on Face but they just weren't exactly what he wanted to say, or the vibe wasn't what he was aiming for now. He might save them for later.

And people saying Take Two was written a few years ago but is only now being released means it is one of those songs that still resonates with where BTS is today.

This is my opinion: I also want to say something about the argument that Jimin was denied all the MV's he wanted for Face... we know he's working on new music... we know they have a tight timeframe because of enlistment. It takes time and money to produce music videos, especially to the high caliber that BTS music videos are produced.

I think Jimin knew he was going to do more music before the end of this year. He knew logistically there was no time to produce the kind of MV's that are expected for other Face songs.

"But Yoongi got an MV for every song..." Yoongi's album D-Day and its subsequent concert tour are huge undertakings, comes 3 years after D-2 and this will be it for him. He will have to enlist. He does not have time to produce another album and do promotions for it before enlistment. He blew his wad on D-Day.

We will get more from Jimin before the end of the year and before he chooses to enlist.

I digressed... back to Festa...

About the book:

"After taking their first step into the world on June 13, 2013, BTS will celebrate the 10th anniversary of their debut in June 2023. They have risen to the peak as an iconic global artist and during this meaningful time, they look back on their footsteps in the first official book. In doing so, BTS nurtures the power to build brighter days and they choose to take another step on a road that no one has gone before. BTS shares personal, behind-the-scenes stories of their journey so far through interviews and more than three years of in-depth coverage by Myeongseok Kang, who has written about K-pop and other Korean pop culture in various media. Presented chronologically in seven chapters from before the debut of BTS to the present, their vivid voices and opinions harmonize to tell a sincere, lively, and deep story. In individual interviews that have been conducted without a camera or makeup, they illuminate their musical journey from multiple angles and discuss its significance. In addition, portrait photos that show BTS as individuals and artists open the book, and throughout there are concept photos, tracklists of all previous albums, and over 330 QR codes. As digital artists, BTS has been communicating with the world through the internet and this book allows readers to immediately access trailers, music videos, and more online to have a rich understanding of all the key moments in BTS history. Complete with a timeline of all major milestones, BEYOND THE STORY is a remarkable archive―truly everything about BTS in one volume."

The HYBE mural:

This artist did a fantastic job on this hand painted mural. He used cans of spray-paint. Amazing.

(video credit)

It's been a very emotional few weeks with so much content given to us.

From BangBangCon and 5th Muster to Take Two to Jimin's performance of Letter, the dance practice videos, Suchwita with Jin, seeing all of Seoul lit up in purple, all the photos, all of the positive media coverage in Korea, Tae's jazz performance, it's been a whirlwind of gifts for us. I've never experienced anything like it before.

And thinking about this year's Festa, with all the members coming and going and scattered across the globe, doing their own thing, Joon's comment that next year, Jin-hyung will have to fill the space implies everyone else will be enlisted before next June. I am really looking forward to having Jin back with us.

Anyway... APOBANGPO!

[deke-rivers-1957]

ECU High - Danny's Ambition

The alarm clock rings and Danny groans as he gets out of bed.

"Just how *expletive* is this day gonna be?"

There's a knock on his door as he hears his sister Mimi.

"Danny, are you decent?"

He sighs. "Yeah Mimi, Ah'm decent. What's up?"

She comes into his room.

"Daddy says he has to take the car today. Are you gonna be alright to walk to school?"

Danny rubs his eyes.

"Walkin to school's all I do anyway. No reason to waste gas over a mile. Ah'm tellin ya Mimi, if I gotta redo senior again I might as well drop out."

She tries to smile. "Don't drop out Danny. Daddy's still trying to get a pharmacy job. That's why he's taking the car. Mr. Primont called him in for an interview. If he gets the job you can quit and focus on graduating."

He stands up and stretches.

"That'll be the day, sis. Ah really hate havin ta ask the juniors for money. It's embarrassin."

The mood is somber and Danny looks lost.

"Ah just wanna wake up one morning and not gotta worry bout money. I don't wanna have to rely on other people."

She goes over to hug Danny. "I know you feel that way, Danny. You just need to take it one day at a time. Now eat up. I got breakfast waitin for you."

He sighs.

"Alright. Gotta change first. Be right down."

Mimi smiles and leaves the room. After changing, Danny goes down to eat breakfast as fast as he can.

"Ah'll see ya later, Mimi."

He grabs his backpack and starts running to school. As he makes it to the school's parking lot, a rusty old pickup truck pulls in. The engine has a strange sound to it.

"Howdy, feller."

Danny looks up.

"Oh hey, Jodie. Hell's up with yer engine?"

Jodie shuts it off and gets out. "Ah dang carburetor's done actin up. Gotta find somethin worth replacin it. Ol gal's goin on 50 so's Ah gotta keep 'er runnin."

Danny looks at the truck. "Ya going to the junkyard with Mike?"

Jodie grabs his books.

"Yeah Mike's ride done lost 'er fender. We's goin ta mah job fer parts."

He stops at the stairs. "Danneh ya got wood shop 1st period?"

Danny looks at his schedule. "Let's see. Nah I got wood shop 2nd period. What classes do ya need to pass this year to graduate?"

Jodie laughs a little and looks down.

"Math, science and readin. Mr. Wade tol me Ah gotta do good ta stay on the wrasslin team. Says he'll kick mah ass if Ah done keep failin and gotta repeat a year."

Danny sighs. "Dunno how you plan on doin that man. We're all idiots ta be able to tutor anyone."

The first bell rings.

"Ah'll be seein ya feller faster than Ah done load a shotgun." Jodie says as he heads inside.

Danny heads to the gym but almost gets hit by a car.

"Dammit Mike ya almost hit Danny."

Mike smiles as he parks.

"Ah yer just worried bout your insurance rates Mikey. "

Mikey (short for Mike Windgren) glares.

"No *expletive* I'm worried Mike! I don't want my Saturn to kill someone!"

"Well Ah didn't so don't get yer panties in a twist. Now let's go before we're late."

Mikey groans.

"Sorry ta almost hit you Danny."

Danny keeps going to the gym.

"Hey Guy are you lookin for someone?"

A boy on the football field turns to look at Danny.

"Yeah that *expletive* Mike skipped band practice today! How're we supposed to set a good example to the freshmen if we ain't all here?!"

Danny sighs. "Well go yell at 'em when ya see 'em Guy. He'll probably show up when he feels like it."

"Yeah well he better! Ah'm not bout to have our drummers be outta formation because that *expletive* decided not ta practice!"

Danny shakes his head and makes it to the gym.

A whirring sound is heard as a small helicopter lands. A young man steps out with a girl on his arm.

"And that's how ya land!"

She looks amazed.

"Oh wow, Rick that's so amazing. How many more hours do you need to be able to teach me for real?"

He gives her a cocky grin.

"Only 20. Maybe if yer willin to wait a couple months I can teach ya."

Her eyes widen.

"Wow I'd like that! I'll see you around then, Rick."

He gives a thumbs up. "You know it baby."

Danny rolls his eyes.

"How many demonstrations is that now, Rick?"

He laughs. "Oh Danny. Don't ya get that it's good for my social life? I get to put my hours in while getting some babes. I see that as an absolute win."

Danny starts walking again. "Whatever Rick."

He makes his way to the gym when he sees his friend.

"Oh hey Ross!"

Ross turns around.

"Danny good ta see you! Still tryna make ends meet. How 'bout you?" he asks smiling.

Danny looks down. "Same boat. Pa's gonna have an interview today so fingers crossed."

Ross rubs his eyes. "Least there's a light at the end of the tunnel for ya. I gotta find a better job that'll pay more. Buc-ee's just ain't enough to pay the bills."

"I hear ya, Ross. Being a busboy at 2 nightclubs ain't a good paycheck either."

A whistle is blown. "Awright ya *expletive* line up!"

Everyone lines up when they hear Mr. Wade's voice. No one messes with him.

As Mr. Wade makes his opening year speech about gym class Danny's mind starts to wander.

"All Ah want is ta make it through the year. If Ah can jus make 'nough money, Ah can buy back our house. Pa ain't ever gonna be embarrassed ever 'gain."

Tag list: @vintagepresley, @thetaoofzoe, @ashtag6887, @whitepontiac, @tupelomiss, @richardslady121, @just-another-boring-bisexual, @aliengoth3, @phil2135561, @gayforelvis, @ash-omalley, @eptodaytommorwforever, @mercsandmonsters, @wildhorseinkansas, @alienelvisobsession, @comebackep, @presley72elvis, @leopardandstuds, @ellie-24, @heart-of-ep, @thatbanditqueen, @be-my-ally, @arrolyn1114, @xanatenshi, @jaqueline19997, @vintagegirl50s60s70s80s, @j-v-9-2, @mydarlingelvis, @almightybigbrain, @pinkcaddyconfessions, @miniaturerunawaykid, @myradiaz, and @msamarican.

[totentnz]

GOOD MORNING (now evening)

today i awoke and chose violence. i wanna talk a bit about the AU @bishicat and I have. ~inspired~ by the 5 songs, 3 outfits taggame!

EVERYBODY WANTS TO RULE THE WORLD

Welcome to your life There's no turning back Even while we sleep [...] We will find you It's my own design It's my own remorse Help me to decide Help me make the Most of freedom and of pleasure Nothing ever lasts forever Everybody wants to rule the world [...] There's a room where the light won't find you Holding hands while the walls come tumbling down When they do, I'll be right behind you I'm so glad we've almost made it So sad they had to fade it Everybody wants to rule the world [...] I can't stand this indecision Married with a lack of vision Everybody wants to rule the— Say that you'll never, never, never, never need it

name of the AU, basically it's about change, within oneself, within a friend group, within the world. and about accepting that change - or fighting against it. each member of the trio (or V³ as we like to call em) thinks their way of living is the right one. V(alerie) is hellbent on not backing down and staying right where she is V(incent) thinks getting away from the city and the people who hurt him is the best choice V(ivienne) wants more from life, money, fancy clothes and power

TOWNIE

There's a party and we're all going And we're all growing up Somebody's driving and he will be drinking And no one's going back 'Cause we've tried hungry and we've tried full and Nothing seems enough [...] I'm holding my breath with a baseball bat Though I don't know what I'm waiting for I am not gonna be what my daddy wants me to be

name of the pairing for V³ - the song is about growing up and changing. (AGAIN) bishi actually picked that one and i was on board right away, it was important to me that we pick a song we both like (the more rock-y feel of that song also helped lmao)

RYAN & DAVE

Ryan and Dave are rabble rousin', teenage cousins Difference is Dave has an off switch, and Ryan doesn't 20 years later now Dave behaves rank and file And Ryan's a burnt out adult, last gasp, wild child

guess what this one is about! CHANGE! (are you tired of it yet?) mostly it is about viv picking a different path than v though - one stayed exactly where she has always been while the other chose to change. ALSO in the music video they are DOGS and we love a dog motif

6:26 in the morning, didn't need alarm I couldn't sleep a wink, I'm betting my whole farm Left Dave's place at eight, just drove, didn't really talk I shook his hand and popped the door to make the walk Applied for admission at the detox shop Got to the door it said open, ten o'clock It's freezing out, no way that I can make it to ten Look back at my truck at my only real friend

some time ago we talked about viv helping v on her healing journey (girlie cannot catch a break from being a babysitter even after she got johnny a body LMAO) and even though v never ends up at rehab (maybe that will change) it still fits pretty well.

NEVER LET ME DOWN AGAIN

I'm taking a ride with my best friend I hope he never lets me down again He knows where he's taking me Taking me where I want to be I'm taking a ride with my best friend [...] We're flying high We're watching the world pass us by Never want to come down Never want to put my feet back down on the ground [...] See the stars, they're shining bright (never let me down) Everything's alright tonight (never let me down)

V³ had a pretty big fight at one point. viv was always going to leave for arasaka but v never understood or accepted it. they argued for hours and when vincent didn't chose her side, v stormed off to go on a weeklong bender. when she returned the flat was empty, both her siblings had left -and betrayed her. naturally, viv also felt betrayed by her childhood friend, all she asked for was support but instead she got called a traitor. i like to imagine this song plays on the radio one day after their reunion

THE KIDS AREN'T ALRIGHT

When we were young, the future was so bright The old neighborhood was so alive And every kid on the whole damn street Was gonna make it big and not be beat

Now the neighborhood's cracked and torn The kids are grown up, but their lives are worn How can one little street swallow so many lives?

TO ME this is THE streetkid song but it hits hard especially in this universe. as i mentioned before V³ thinks they picked the right path, they aren't gonna be beat (and honestly vincent is the only one who succeeded). viv had a good run but then she got kicked from the corp, lost her newest best friend, DIED and now has a whole other person stuck in her skull. v was stubborn, was homeless for a bit and is overall in a bad way (but then again, that's the only way she knows how to live so it's not as bad TO HER)

AS ABOVE, SO BELOW

THIS IS A BIG ONE SO BUCKLE IN FOLKS bishi and i had been talking about a personal quest for v and we ended up on this: one day they are driving somewhere while listening to the radio when a host teases a special treat! they have exclusive rights to the music of NC born and bred band Rotten! (yeah you guessed it! V's band) naturally this fills her with pure rage and viv knows this isn't going to end well (babysitting time!) v knows exactly who did this and is hellbent on rectifying this (there is more but yall are gonna have to wait for the day i decide to write it lmao) As Above, So Below is the name of the job! it is a song that v wrote but only she knows about it. while viv wasn't a band member she was there for it's founding and a few first concerts, she filmed a lot of it and even ran the merch stand a bit

I won't lie, it's quite temptin' Your handouts and your bones I won't lie, they're quite empty Your promises and your stones

If you sell, they'll buy Don't feel, just sign If you sell, they'll buy Don't think, stay blind

Give me the control Just sign on the dotted line Give me the control He whispered softly Give me the control You're crawling inside my mind Give me the control Don't you fight me?

As above, so below What you reap is what you sow What you give comes back three fold As above, so below

YES the song is about v not wanting to sign with a label and it is her final fuck you to the world of music. in reality that song is incredibly underproduced since by the time it was recorded the band had already broken up. v did ALL of it: singing, instruments, songwriting. editing magic made it come to life. depending on how it ends (yes there are multiple outcomes) viv will receive a shard with ALL of rotten's music, including THIS unreleased song and even some backstage footage from way back in the day when viv was still around.

See I've danced with the enemy We have secrets, no one knows Yeah, I've danced with my enemy I wore her skin and her clothes

honourable mention because this part is very viv coded

instead of outfits i present you! some soul crushing quotes! i hope you enjoy! :3c

[lainternet99]

ENTRY #27

I come unto thee, just a few minutes before the clock strikes twelve!

Today my day was fun. In my humanities class, the teacher had us do a pop quiz in the style of the game show called Jeopardy. We were divided in four teams of five and because of me, we won against another team by just 20 points! Our teacher will give us each 1% extra in our exam, from what I understood. I don't understand why it's so little, but hey, I'm not complaining. I was rather happy; a lot of people in the class were impressed by my knowledge! It's not that I pay attention in class (I really don't), it's just that I naturally like these kinds of things... Ancient Greece, philosophy, medieval era, these are all things right up my alley... More or less.

After class, I went to join my brother who had just finished class as well. He got himself food then bought me a pretzel. I gave him a few pieces and kept the rest to myself. I love pretzels. He had the car keys, so instead of taking the bus, we drove home. It was very fun. I kept listening to "Chop Suey!" by System Of A Down, but mostly for the part that goes "Father! Father! Father! Father into your hands, I commend my spirit....." I just LOVE that part. I feel like I'm witnessing a heavy metal rendition of the Crying Mary statue. I can't explain it. Or maybe it's just because I love christian lyricism and art. I'm not christian myself, but I still can't help but find myself adoring the art related to it. It's very beautiful.

Tomorrow, I have a hebrew exam as well as my audition for the role of Helena from Shakespeare's "A Midnight Summer's Dream". I practiced a bit with the hebrew alefbet just to familiarize myself and I have also practiced my lines for tomorrow. I still have a small part left, but my audition is at 5:30 P.M and my last class finishes at 4 P.M, so I have an entire hour and half dedicated to simply rehearsing. I can have myself memorize these few lines in less than ten minutes if I commit to it; which I will! I have no choice; I'm passing first for the role of Helena, which is major and very demanded, so I must set the bar high! Not only must I memorize it well, I have to put tones, an accent, and gestures! I pray that I get the role... she has long monologues and I am just a sucker for that kind of thing when in theatre!

RATE OF THE DAY: 10/10

—— lainternet99