#downright stood up to applaude

[indestinatus]

sometimes in the dark of night i still think about @irish-trish tiva video to 'i love you' by billie eilish

[theharpermovieblog]

#HARPERSMOVIECOLLECTION

2023

I re-watched The Hateful Eight (2015)

I watched The Hateful Eight when it first came out and found myself dissapointed. In my mind I had pictured something very different than what I got. I'm returning to it because every Quentin Tarantino movie is worth a second look.

A blizzard traps a group of people in a cabin with a wanted outlaw on her way to hang, but someone in the group may be out to help the dangerous criminal.

We all have to admit we're wrong sometimes, and I was wrong about this movie. It didn't hit me right the first time I watched it. Maybe I was seeing it with the wrong crowd or maybe I just was in a bad head space. All I know is that this is far better than I gave it credit for when it first came out.

Some people think Quentin Tarantino's draw is his use of hyper violence, but that's not true. What Tarantino does, which keeps brining me back, is giving great dialogue to great characters and filling those character's roles with fantastic actors. He uses character to tell story and that's a skill a lot of filmmakers lack.

The characters in this movie are all flawed on a spectrum. Some flawed so much that they're downright evil and others flawed in certain perceptions and thoughts, but what matters in the end is who they are at their core. What's great about this movie is you end up siding with and liking characters that you may fundamentally disagree with.

The world Tarantino builds around these characters is a great one. It's the old west and there's a blizzard. Horses need to be stabled and guidelines need to be staked and coffee needs to be brewed and fire tended to. It's a movie with very few locations, mostly taking place in a coach and a cabin, but this is very much a fully realized time and place. To flesh it all out further, a beautiful Ennio Morricone score runs through the film.

The movie is filmed beautifully and those Tarantino style credits even let you know about the Panavision 70mm film. Say what you want about this director, he's a true filmmaker and artist without compromise, right down to using the right film. Which might not be important to some, but is important to me.

The story is a paranoid little thriller and plays out almost like a Hitchcockian mystery. The script subverts expectations and moves like a stage play. It's wickedly well written and that great writing is something that didn't click as well with me the first time I watched this. Maybe I was high, or maybe I wasn't as bright back then.

What really makes this movie shine though is the cast. All the actors in this are amazing from top to bottom and everyone uses what Tarantino gives them and creates characters that may not be likeable, but are extremely interesting. Most praise goes to Jennifer Jason Leigh and Walton Goggins, but there is no one not giving their absolute best work in this film.

Going back into this movie, I was really expecting to be dissapointed again and I was dreading the nearly three hours runtime. Halfway through I was kicking myself for having badmouthed it for all these years, and when the end came and things became so violent it could easily be considered a horror film, I nearly stood and applauded the journey that led us to this blood soaked ridiculousness.

Like I said, everyone thinks Tarantino traffics in Violence, but his over the top and very cinematic violence, is simply part of an overall experience. He earns that violence through character and story. And, it's an added bonus that he doesn't give you life-like realistic violence. He gives you splattered stage violence. Horror show, wizard of gore violence that is just as likely to make you laugh as make you squeal. By the end of this film that violence, which has been foreshadowed, comes in the form of frontier justice straight to camera. It's brutal and it's dark and there's a reason for it to be on screen.

This was so worth the rewatch because it means Tarantino has a perfect record with me once again.

Blown away.

[yourreddancer]

Trump at the Intl Hotel in DC

"When he wasn’t melting down over how 'very badly' he was treated or acting like a seditious lunatic, Donald Trump could be downright serene in certain Washington settings—and never more so than when he would swan in for dinner at the Trump International Hotel, a few blocks down Pennsylvania Avenue from the White House and the only other place where he would ever agree to eat," Mark Leibovich writes.

"Unlike the Obamas, who would sneak out for date nights at trendy restaurants, Trump was hardly discreet when he went out to dinner. For Trump, a big, applauded entrance was as essential to the experience as the shrimp cocktail, fries, and 40-ounce steak. Each night, assorted MAGA tourists and administration bootlickers would descend on the atrium bar on the small chance they’d get to glimpse Trump himself in his abundant flesh—like catching Cinderella at the castle, or Hefner at the mansion."

The hotel gave every impression of being a tight and well-managed operation, in contrast to the proprietor’s side hustle down the street. Lots of Washington reporters would hang around the establishment, too. We could always pick up dirt that Trump and his groveling legions tracked in. The place was crawling with them, these hollowed-out men and women who knew better. You might catch Rudy rushing out to smoke a cigar, red wine staining his unbuttoned tuxedo shirt (that was the night of the Mnuchin wedding, I think). Or see Trump’s favorite pillowy-haired congressmen—fresh off their Fox 'hits'—greeting the various Spicers, Kellyannes, and other C-listers who were bumped temporarily up to B-list status by their White House entrée."

But the guests who stood out for me most were Republican House Leader Kevin McCarthy and the busybody senator from South Carolina, Lindsey Graham. I would sometimes see them around the lobby or steakhouse or function rooms, skipping from table to table and getting thanked for all the wonderful things they were doing to help our president. They had long been among the most supplicant super-careerists ever to play in a city known for the breed, and proved themselves to be essential lapdogs in Trump’s kennel."

from The Atlantic

[quietmyfearswith]

i’ll drive ; august walker x fem!reader 2/3

status — completed series

word count —  5,933 words

warnings — SMUT, unprotected penetrative sex, soft!august, confused!august

pairing — august walker x fem!reader

a/n — so i had driving lessons last september and thought abt how wow it would make a great story if a driving instructor fell for their student,, and the og idea had in mind was that for a dark fic i might still do one though idk but i never really knew which character to do it for. then i was like what if he was pretending to be a driving instructor and since i just watched mi fallout sometime last month thought id be perfect for august!! sorry i couldn’t publish this any faster, had some things going on offline so yeah lmk what you think of this chapter. there’s only one chapter left!  Y/F/N = your father’s name

masterlist | series masterlist

“You want me to do what?” August scoffed as he read the mission file he was handed. Sloane raised a hand to the other agent who was about to explain it again; she knew that the Hammer would more likely accept the mission if she convinced him.

“We want you to pose as a driving instructor; from there you’ll be assigned to Y/N. Her father is Nick Roberts; do you recall who he is?” Nodding, August placed the folder on the desk and looked at Sloane with a scowl, “Yeah, I do. He transports Perez’ drugs and firearms in and out of the country; possibly close ties to even more underground activity.” 

“Suspected of transporting,” The other agent — August didn't bother remembering his name since he rarely got to work with him anyway — clarified. “And how will me posing as a driving instructor get us to Nick Roberts?”

“Nick Roberts is just an alias; his real name is Y/F/N, and the one you’ll be assigned in teaching is his daughter. You get close to her, you’ll be able to get to Roberts.” It seemed like too big of a stretch, August quietly reflected; what if she cut ties with her father? What if he really wasn’t her father?

“Considering this is the only lead we have so far on Perez’ case, I’ll do it,” He eventually conceded; Sloane was pleased with that as she smiled, “Very well, take that case file with you to familiarize yourself with Y/N. Your lessons with her will be from Monday to Friday, the whole of next week. Understood?”

With a nod, he grabbed the case file and stood up to exit the room. Heading to his office, he figured that it was best to find out what he can about this Y/N. He read about how she had graduated college and has been steadily working in her chosen profession. Since the separation of her parents she lived with her dad, and by the looks of it has a close bond with him. It was amusing to him how someone of her age still doesn’t know how to drive; but nevertheless it was a blessing in disguise that she didn’t since it helped with their case.

Though her case file had her passport and driving permit photo, August made a reckless decision to look up if she had any social media accounts; and she did. It wasn’t usual for him to look up their target’s social media accounts — in the past he would settle for the provided picture on the mission reports and from there familiarize himself with what they looked like — but there was an itch he needed to scratch. There was something about Y/N that motivated him to look at her photos, thankfully her account was on public. “Can’t wait to see you soon, love.”

Henry James was his alias for this mission and here he was leaning against the parked car as he was waiting for Y/N. He held his breath once the door opened and revealed a girl in a romper. “Hi! Are you Henry?” She was too cheerful in her greeting he noted; perhaps that had something to do with how young and innocent she was. Nodding sternly, “See anyone else beside me, sweetheart?”

She giggled at his remark as she tucked her hair behind her ear — a nervous habit she’d develop. “Go ahead and settle yourself on the front seat.” She nodded and made her way over to the driver’s seat. As she sat down, she placed her bag on the console, “You have your learning permit?” She grabbed the piece of paper that was in the pocket of her romper and handed it over to him; he thanked her as grabbed it and filled out the information he had, “Do you know what to do once you get in the car and onto the driver’s seat?” 

“Adjust the seat, adjust the mirrors, check the lights, and make sure I have gas,” She listed out as she did all of those. Clicking the pen once he’s filled in the necessary information he turned to her with a raised brow, “Aren’t you forgetting something?” Looking around her, she tried her best to recall the driving lessons she took and when nothing seemed missing to her she just shook her head no with a slight pout — August originally thought was a childish and foolish expression but she just made it look downright adorable.

Y/N held her breath as Henry leaned over to her so close that their noses nearly touched and his fingertips brushed against her skin as he grabbed the seatbelt, dragging it across her to click it in its place. She didn’t expect him to get that close to her, but she certainly wasn’t complaining when it gave her an up close view of how good he looked in that polo shirt; and the man too was surprised at his sudden move — he was debating with himself that he only did so to ensure her safety, just so she’d be alive and share about her father’s whereabouts, but there was this part of him that was convinced that he just wanted a reason to be close to her. “You’re forgetting the most important safety precaution, sweetheart; and that’s to wear your seatbelt.”

Smiling nervously at him she apologized to which he simply grunted at, “I trust you know how to start the engine?” Her confident persona surfaced, her right hand turned the key to start the car as her left hand rested on the wheel. “What do you need to do before pulling away?”

“Check the mirrors for any oncoming vehicles,” She glanced at the rear and side view mirrors, “Look over to your blind spot,” Twisting her head to look over her shoulder and verify that there was no one or nothing that was incoming, “Signal then drive away.” Turning on her signal light, she put the car from park to drive and began leaving her front yard.

August was impressed with her — for someone who was such a fumbling mess earlier was really focused on driving; he thought that was rare for a beginning driver, as they were far too excited at the thought of getting to go anywhere they wanted. “Good job. I have to say your focus is impeccable as well,” His compliment got her nervously saying thanks. “What’s the speed limit for residential areas?”

“30 kilometers per hour; Do I Just go straight?” They were nearing an intersection and she was told, “Yeah go straight; we’re not leaving the neighborhood just yet.” She nodded and just before she got to cross the intersection she hit the brakes smoothly as there was a stop sign. “One car there, still empty there,” Y/N took note as she moved her head left and right to check the traffic situation.

Once the road was clear she drove straight ahead and her instructor applauded her, “When you take the test, don’t be afraid to talk to yourself like that if it helps. And don’t forget to check if there was already a car from the opposite direction with a stop sign; know why?”

She nodded firmly as her eyes shifted from the road ahead, the rear view mirror, and the speedometer, “Because then they’d have right of way.” August noticed how the tone of her voice would differ; during the earlier part of their interaction, it was soft and low, but now as they drove around it was loud and clear. “When is your driver’s exam again?” He knew when she’d take it — he just thought that by asking that he’d somehow be able to milk information regarding her father.

“This Saturday,” She responded and it seemed that she was nervous about it given how her voice lowered again. “Turn right at the next intersection,” He ordered her. Seeing that she had no stop signs in her direction, she turned on the signal light and moved to the appropriate lane. Once she checked that there were no pedestrians crossing, moved to complete her turn.

“Notice how there weren’t any stop signs on two sides and yet there were on the two?” When she nodded he quizzed her again, “What does that mean?” Before answering him there were kids who were about to cross and she stepped on the brakes, coming to a complete stop and smiled as she signaled for the kids to cross. As she waved at the kids who smiled and yelled thank you she answered him, “Means that I have the right of way; even if someone arrives from the directions with stop signs they have to wait for me to pass before going on.”

“It’s great that you know the answers, some don’t,” He fed her some bullshit to which she bought as she softly laughed. “Well I don’t want to have to retake the exam,” Her lack of use of the word again caught his attention and was quick to ask about it, “This is really your first time taking the test?”

She nodded yes as she stopped at a four way stop, allowing a pickup truck that stopped before her. “How come?” Pressing her foot on the gas, she brought the car forward as she explained, “I don’t know really. My dad usually brings me to places or I take the public transport.” Bingo, August thought, here’s a chance to know more about his whereabouts. “And now? You’re dad can’t take you? Turn left on the next intersection.”

Nodding, she checked the pedestrian if there was someone crossing and stopped at the stop sign to check for any oncoming vehicles, “He’s so busy with work that he can’t. Especially now that he’s out of town.” Not enough information, August thought; but he thought that by asking more questions he’d come off as too nosy. “Do you know how to park uphill and downhill?” 

“I know which direction I have to turn the wheels to but I haven’t done that yet,” He nodded and instructed her on what to do. After teaching her how to do so properly, they took a break as August made some pointers over the things he observed as she drove. “It’s good that you keep your eyes moving around to check your surroundings; but don’t stay focused on one place for too long.”

Looking over at her, his heart beat fast with how her eyes looked wide and eager — and somehow he adored how innocent she looked, as she had no idea on what kind of world she got herself involved in ; it distracted him for a while but he managed to tear his gaze on her as he cleared his throat, “But sometimes you turn your signal light on too early, so be careful of that. And don’t stop too far from the stop line, that gives you demerit points.”

She nodded and took a mental note of everything he said, “What about with my parking?” Henry opened the door to check the distance of the car from the pavement, “You hill parking is good so far; not too close or too far. Think you can do parallel parking on that car on the next street?” Y/N eyes followed to where his finger pointed to a sedan that was parked, “Might need some help.”

Appreciating her honesty August reassured her, “Don’t worry I’ll guide you through it.” With his words she began to leave where she was parked and crossed the intersection. Once she was helped on the parallel parking process, her instructor beamed at her, “Good job, Y/N!”

“Thanks for your help, Henry,” The agent admittedly was caught off guard at the name she used— his dumb ass nearly corrected her and told him that wasn’t his name — he blamed it with how sweetly yet shyly she thanked him so that made him lose his concentration. “No worries,” He gruffly replied, which had Y/N found was odd with how his mood seemed to shift given his tone. 

“Why don’t we head back home but let’s go through the main road; know the speed limit over there?” She nodded her head as she answered, “60 kilometers per hour, but by Hammonds Avenue it reduces to 50.” Satisfied he rubbed his hands over his thighs, “Fantastic! Get on with it, love.”

Her breath hitched at the name he called her and she paused for a second before pulling away; August too had no idea where that came from but he just couldn’t help himself. The rest of the drive on the way home was filled with stiff and tortuous silence; the radio was not turned on since the agent deemed it would distract her from driving. “Do an uphill parking over here,” He pointed to her front porch. She nodded and poked her tongue out a bit as she concentrated on the task at hand. “Okay, now neutral, then all the way to the left.”

When she felt the tire hit the curb she smiled brightly and turned to Henry, “All done.” The proud expression on her face was so captivating that despite holding himself back he couldn’t prevent himself from mirroring her proud expression with a genuine smile, “You did well today, Y/N. Maybe next time you’ll be the one bringing your dad to work.”

August kept his fingers crossed that his jab would provide him with more information about it; and she partially did, “Not anytime soon though; he’s not due back for at least two weeks.” Despite being disappointed at the vague information he managed not to physically display it as he nodded, “Oh that’s too bad then,” He faked sympathy and unbuckled his seatbelt as she did the same, “Same time tomorrow for our lesson okay?” 

Nodding her head up and down, she grabbed her bag from the console and checked the road before exiting. “See you tomorrow, Henry,” She waved as they passed by each other as he walked over to the driver’s side. When their skins brushed, they both could feel a rush of electricity and it made Y/N nervously giggle and skipped away from him without even looking back at him due to how embarrassed she was. 

Whereas on the other hand August was confused; he never met someone who made him feel this way. The way she was looking or smiling at him had him weak in the knees; which was something he never experienced before. As she was swiftly entering her home, the Hammer found himself watching her as she did so; just need to make sure she gets home safely, he convinced himself. Though the rational part of himself argued back idiot, she’s already on her porch! What possible harm can come to her?

Once she got inside he finally got in the car and fished out his phone from the glove compartment to connect it to the radio and call Sloane as he began driving to his temporary apartment. After a few rings she picked up, “Walker? How was the first day?”

“Not too bad. Got some minimal information about Roberts,” He could hear faint footsteps on Sloane’s end of the call and inferred she had just gotten back from a meeting. “What have you found out then?”

“Apparently he’s out of town,” His boss’ disappointment with the information was heard through her long sigh, “Any idea when will he return? And to where he is?” He shook his head as he spoke, “Y/N said at least two weeks before he comes back from work out of town.” 

“Well that can’t be good,” No shit, August wanted to add but kept silent. “Is there any way you can remain in contact with Y/N even after your week of driving lessons are done?” Glaring at his phone the agent voiced his disbelief at what he was hearing, “Why should I pursue this lead? Can’t there be any other way to get to Roberts? What about his associates?”

Sloane let out an irritated sigh — one she rarely had to let out when she was talking to her best agent because he usually got the job done — before explaining, “His associates change; they come and go. We never really found a certain person or persons he works with. Y/N is the only constant person in his life and so if anything really she’s our only hope of bringing him in.” The silence from August’s end indicated that she got through his head.

“Now, is there any way you can remain in contact with Y/N even after your week of driving lessons?” He was now parked in the car park of his temporary base and he thought for a few seconds on how to answer her question. Call it impulsivity or whatever, but before he could even clearly think things through he found himself suggesting, “Perhaps I can ask her out on a date?”

In the years they’ve worked together, Sloane was always impressed and surprised with how August managed to accomplish each mission he assigned her successfully. But this one in particular, he surprised her with his suggestion; heck even August himself couldn’t believe the words that just left his mouth. “I just think that’s the cleanest way to play this one out,” He tried to defend his suggestion, “What other reason would a driving instructor have to remain in contact with their student right?”

The Hammer was cursing himself out with how feeble his justification was; Sloane on the other hand did find herself agreeing with him, “Do what you must.”

The rest of the week went by quickly and Y/N found herself looking forward to every driving lesson she had with her gorgeous instructor. And now that it was the last hour of the last day of their driving lessons, she couldn’t help but wish she got more time to spend with him. In the back of her mind she thought about failing the test in hopes that he’d help her out again. But then it would backfire quick if they sent a different instructor instead.

“Parallel park one last time with that Dodge over there,” His instructions brought her back from the plan she was hatching and going through. As she was executing his instructions, she failed to notice how instead of looking at what she was doing, Henry was observing every facial expression she was completing the task at hand. “There! How was that?” Her eyes staring back at him snapped him out of his entranced stare as he blinked a few times, “Oh well,” He opened the car door to check if the tires hit the curb and how far they were from the curb, “Good job, as usual. Though be careful when you turn the wheel to the right.”

She nodded slowly as she repeated his comment, “How do you feel about your exam tomorrow?” At the mention of her dreaded test she groaned a bit and he chuckled softly — he never saw her this stressed about the test in their previous lessons, so seeing her react this way was somewhat amusing to him. She looked at him with her lips slightly pouting and the skin in her forehead all wrinkled up, “I’m nervous about it; but at the same time I feel like I can do it?”

Henry’s left hand settled itself on her forearm as he affectionately rubbed her, as if he were trying to rid her of the stress and anxieties, “You’re gonna do great, love. Just calm yourself down before taking the test and don’t be afraid to talk to yourself as you drive if it helps you focus.” Y/N’s heartbeat sped up with how gentle he was; over the course of their lessons he came across as stern and rigid but this side of him was something she could get used to.

“How ‘bout you drive back home now, yeah?” She nodded and did so without trouble. August remembered how her father was gone and wondered who’d bring her to the test, “By the way, since you mentioned you dad was out of town, who’ll go with you then?”

Timidly smiling to herself she admitted, “I’ve asked some of my friends, but they all said how they had their own plans. I was gonna ask some of my coworkers and see how that goes.” Clicking his tongue with how unprepared she was, his mouth spit out, “Well how about I go with you then?” Before his brain could even analyze if that was the right thing to say.

Seeing as Y/N was driving she could only briefly glance at him, “You want to take me to the test?” August now backed himself against a wall and couldn’t find a way out, to hell with it, he thought to himself. “Way better than you driving illegally is it not?”

“That is true,” Y/N acknowledged, “But do you do that for all of your students?” Henry let out a laugh and her heart fluttered with how deep it was before he remarked, “Not for everyone, sweetheart, I’ll tell you that.” Feeling cocky with that she mused, “Then I must be special then?”

If you only knew, love, August thought to himself; while Y/N was scolding at herself for possibly flirting with her driving instructor. But technically he wouldn’t be on the day of her exam because their lessons ended, right? “Wanna know how special you really are?” He leaned his elbow on the console, bringing himself closer to her and he sensed how she held her breath as her body stiffened. Shaking her head was the only response she could offer as she was now focusing on parking the car in front of her house. 

After coming to a halt she turned over to him and looked at him with curious eyes; Henry then took it as his cue to speak, “You’re so special that should you pass your exam tomorrow, I want to take you out on a date.” Her eyes widened comically that August thought she was an inspiration for a cartoon character. And the agent wasn’t sure if what he was saying was spoken out of desperation for the mission to succeed or because he had taken interest in her.

It had taken her a few seconds before replying and the agent was surprised when she said, “Are you shitting me or is this actually real?” He rid the smirk he had on his face and replaced it with a serious expression, “This is real, sweetheart. Do you think I go around and grace my students with nicknames?” He took her avoiding eyes as a no and his hand grabbed her chin to get her to face him directly, “So do we have a deal, sweetheart? I take you out right after your test for a date, if you pass?”

August held his breath as she unhooked his hand from her chin and leaned over him, planting a kiss on his cheek. His blue eyes were now wide as she had a toothy grin once she pulled away and with a smirk of her own said, “We have a deal, Henry.”

August found himself tapping his leg as he stared at the wall clock, hoping that his domineering stare would make time go faster. Thirty minutes had passed since Y/N started her driving exam and the agent found himself reevaluating in the meantime. Was asking her out on a date the only way to get close to Roberts?

Of course it was, he thought, She said her father will return in two weeks. You’d only have to go out with her once a week and somehow bring him into their conversation and hopefully milk out more intel about him.

Seeing a man dressed in a flannel-patterned polo reeled him back into the present; trailing behind the man was Y/N who had a blank expression on her face. Furrowing his eyebrows he mouthed, “What happened?” Anxiety coursed through his body but it quickly left his body as she winked at him and turned to follow the man. “Do you want to retain your picture from your permit or want to take another one?” He overheard the man ask Y/N, prompting August to relax and smile as he connected the dots — she passed her exam! 

But as he was mentally celebrating her success he found himself thinking about how he now had to take her out on the date he promised. It’s just for work, he deliberated, only going out with her to know more about her father. Nothing more, nothing less. However there was this thought nagging him on the back of his head that it wasn’t just for that reason he was taking her out.

Henry groaned as her lips sucked on the sweet spot on his neck as her nails were planted on his shoulders. His large hands alternated between squeezing and rubbing her ass as she grinded herself on his lap.

They found themselves in this situation after Y/N giddily squealed at August how she passed; the agent kissed her forehead as he told her how proud he was of her. As they went to their date he let her drive and as he settled on the passenger seat, his hand rested on her thigh, testing the waters to see if she was comfortable with it — and by the way her thighs pressed against each other, caging in his hand between them, he got the message that she welcomed it happily.

Even throughout the dinner, they both couldn’t get enough of each other. The skin of their arms remained so close to each other that it was as if they were glued to each other. Y/N was beginning to think that the only reason Henry ordered pasta was so he could eat with a single hand so his opposite hand can rest on her thigh. But she wasn’t complaining as she rested her thigh above his.

As they drove back to her place one thing led to another and it ended with Y/N climbing over the console and situating herself on Henry’s lap as their mouths captured each other’s. Y/N unbuttoned his shirt as her lips littered his chest with kisses, she’d linger sometimes in a certain spot long enough to leave marks. 

Rolling her hips in his lap, she felt his hard on pressing against her clothed crotch and moaned against his skin. When her dainty fingers were done unclasping the buttons that confined his toned and broad upper body, her hand travelled lower to palm his bulge and before she could open the zipper Henry caught her roaming hand with his, “I think doing this in your house is far better than some cramped up vehicle; don’t you think?”

A blissed out nod was all the response Y/N could give; with that affirmation August opened the door and carried the girl out and shut the car door with his foot. With her legs wrapped around his waist, she planted kisses all over her instructor’s face. She whined as she was put down but understood that it was her cue to unlock the door; though the man behind her was not making the task easy as he was nipping at the skin of her neck and his hands were rubbing her arms.

“Fucking finally,” August rasped out as Y/N managed to unlock the front door and they both hastily entered and the agent shut and locked the door behin him; he spun her to face him so he could rip off her shirt and he smirked as the girl whimpered, clearly turned on with what he did. “Such a naughty girl you are, aren’t you? Going out without even covering these nice tits.” Wrapping his mouth around a breast, she ran her fingers through his hair to encourage him with what he was doing. Without detaching his mouth from her tit and instead switching between the two, he took the initiative to lead them into her couch. 

Pushing her to lie on her back, August rid himself of his clothes; he was moving too quickly that Y/N didn’t have the time to take a good look at his chiseled body. Hovering above her, he smirked at her once he noticed her thighs were clenching, “You’re a desperate little thing, aren’t you?”

Pathetically nodding she grabbed at his shoulders, “Please touch me, Henry.” Snarking at her he tore her leggings and her panties had the same fate. Now that she was just as exposed as he was, August leaned down to lick downwards from her clit and to her pussy. “You taste heavenly, love.” He lapped at her more, needing to quench his thirst for her and curiosity of what she would taste like. “As much as I adore your taste I’m afraid this will have to wait,” Pushing away her legs that wrapped around his neck, he kissed his way up until he was face to face with her.

“Why not?” She whined as she clawed at his back, moaning as she felt the plain of his back muscles. He distracted her by kissing her deeply as his hand stroked his cock a few times before sliding it in her in one stroke. “That’s why,” He huskily answered against her lips; he moved so his knees touched her thighs, allowing him to rut into her properly.

August removed his lips from hers as he instead planted kisses on her neck as his hands toyed with her nipples and breasts; Y/N, on the other hand, was whining about how good he felt. The skin at the back of her thighs was rippling as he thrusted himself in and out of her rapidly and harshly; the top of his thighs hitting against the back of hers, “You feel so good, Henry. So thick and hard inside me.” The man smirked at her wails, loving how wrecked she sounded — in the back of his nasty brain he noted that this was his favorite version of her.

Her hands held onto his biceps, nails leaving harsh marks on his pale and sweaty skin; it turned August even more how her delicate hands couldn’t even wrap half the size of his arm. Her velvet and silk-like walls were squeezing into his cock so tight that it was triggering his orgasm already — the agent would usually last longer, but given how turned on he was coupled with the fact the past week edged him, he was already close to unloading his bottled up frustrations.

“You already got me almost cumming,” He hoarsely whispered in her ear, feeling her wrap her legs around him to pull her closer against him. That didn’t stop him from slamming into her pussy to the point his trimmed pubic hair rubbed against her clit, adding more friction and pleasure for the both of them. “Seems like you are too, love,” Both her nipples were then squeezed to tease her even more and August was just even more amused with how responsive her precious body was underneath him.

“Please Henry, make me cum. I wanna feel your cum all over me too,” She managed to gasp out in between breaths; the man above her growled when he heard how good she sounded as she begged and had no choice but to comply. He leaned down to suckle on her nipple as the other breast was being toyed by his hand. Her clit too received attention as it was being rubbed and pinched with his other hand. As his hips slammed against her thighs harshly and his cock railed her in swift and sharp thrusts, Y/N could only moan and roll her eyes at the simulations she was receiving.

The only warning she could provide him of her impending orgasm was her patting against his biceps as her walls unexpectedly clung to his dick tighter than ever and came around him. August didn’t relent and continued his animalistic pace, milking her orgasm and removing his mouth from her tit to stare at her blissed out and drowsy state provoked his orgasm as well.

“Fucking hell, love,” He groaned out as he slid in all the way inside her and didn’t thrust furthermore as he spilled his load inside her. With their foreheads touching against each other, they breathed against each other to calm themselves down. Y/N’s hands removed themselves from Henry’s biceps; instead she was now stroking his back, as if coaxing the large man above her to calm down. While August rested his hands on her sides, as if memorizing every inch of her skin.

Y/N squealed as she was being lifted up and carried into her bedroom. Contrary to how she was laid down on the couch roughly, her former driving instructor laid her down gently. Kissing her forehead he went to her ensuite bathroom and returned with a towel. Y/N looked at him with loving eyes as he wiped off their combined juices that spilled out of her delicious cunt. Throwing the towel on her hamper, he then laid beside her and August chuckled lightly with how quick the girl was to latch herself onto him for a cuddle — and he did open his arms to welcome her and wrapped them around her smaller figure.

“I hope you don’t do this with all your students?” Her comment had him humorously rolling his eyes and Y/N giggled at his antics. “No, I don’t, love. I promise,” He even held his pinky up for a pinky promise and she was more than eager to latch her pinky with his; bringing their tangled pinkies to his mouth, Henry placed a gentle kiss on them before untangling them so they could hold hands instead. “Well I guess I’m really special?”

Nodding, he lowered his head down a bit so he could kiss her deeply and passionately. Breaking their kiss August replied, “So special that I want to take you out again next week,” Without even disconnecting their lips.

Y/N sleepily mumbled, “I’d like that a lot, Henry.” Her eyes were starting to feel heavy and August kissed her forehead again, “Sleep, love. I’ll be here in the morning.” She nodded against him and did so. For the next few minutes, the CIA agent reflected his actions and decisions. He told Sloane that he’d ask Y/N out on a date only to remain in contact with her. That was it — a date.

But how the hell did he end up enjoying the date — let alone her company and herself — and then taking her to bed? This was a mess. He shouldn’t have slept with her for it would just complicate things. When August saw how she was steadily breathing, he moved out of the bed and rested her head on a pillow. He went out to her living room to look for his pants that he earlier discarded; grabbing for his phone he sent out a text to Sloane :

Secured a meetup with Y/N next week. Will try to fish out more information about Roberts.

He turned off his phone and put it back in his pocket. As he was staring at his scattered clothes, he was debating whether he should stay the night with Y/N or just leave right now. Even though he knew which option seemed like the most logical, he surprised himself. He went back to bed and cuddled Y/N close as he too began to drift off to dormancy — he stayed.

[beauty-of-sins]

Queen Calanthe x Fem!Reader x Tissaia de Vries(Part Two)

A/N: Thank you guys for all your support! This one's for you all!

Part 1

You find out really quickly what happens when you disobey them.

After your session with the Queen and your former mentor, you had made an agreement to come back whenever they needed you. This happened about every two weeks and you were grateful for the breaks in between. You were spent after each session, needing at least a good three days to fully recover.

You had missed your last session however, getting preoccupied with helping a certain Witcher and his daughter travel through a gnarly part of a swamp. You had completely forgotten about it until you got home and you immediately feel dread overtake you. You try not to think about it. They were busy women themselves and would surely understand that there was no way you could make it to every meeting.

An invitation came in the mail about a ball in Cintra about a week afterward. You would never miss out on a good party even if it meant facing them. You figure you could just blend in the background with the number of people that were coming. It would be good for you to test the waters anyway. 

Two days later, you entered the throne room and the ball was already in full swing. There were people dancing in the middle of the floor and half of the food was already demolished. Several noblemen had already overindulged themselves. You stood out the way as several guards took a couple of men out who were causing a scene. 

You used your magic to slip into the shadows walking around the throne room unseen. Calanthe was there, of course, looking bored as usual, propping herself against the table with her arm. Tissaia was next to her who seemed a bit more excited, matter in fact, she looks quite pleased. Her eyes look directly into yours, able to see right through your magic. You felt everything stop as you looked at her.

Did you think you could hide from us, Y/N 

Her magic buzzes around you, suffocating your own, forcing you back out onto the floor. Calanthe noticed Tissaia’s look and follows it.  A smirk appears on her face. It seems you would be her entertainment from tonight. Maybe you could try and get on her good side.

Don’t you look as beautiful as ever.

Her eyebrows raise at the compliment and you can feel her disbelief. You finally start mingling with the other guests, trying to ignore the stares on your back. 

Nice try. Flattery won’t get you out of this.  

Tissaia’s magic was still in the air following you around, trailing up and down your body, slightly teasing you. You were so distracted that you almost ran into a gentleman.

He was certainly handsome with his tall and muscular stature, and by his clothes, you could tell he was of someone of important status. He took in your form apparently very interested in what he saw, looking you up and down. It reminded you of the way Calanthe looks whenever she makes you wear lingerie for her.

Look at you even when off duty. You’re nothing but a whore.

Her voice sounds throughout your head and you admittedly find yourself getting wet at her words. You were taken out of it by a sudden kiss to the back of your hand, the man apparently having introduced yourself.  

“Would the lady like to dance?” He says, offering you his arm.

This man is going to get you killed. You can still feel their eyes on the back of your head and you declined his advance. He looks like a kicked puppy and you almost feel bad for saying no to him.

Hmmmm. Provide me the entertainment of getting Calanthe worked up and I’ll help you out.

That was a good enough deal for you. The Queen’s punishments were not something to laugh at.  

“Wait.” 

He looks back clearly excited, a giddy smile breaking out on his face. 

He was a good dancer admittedly and you felt yourself having fun with him. On one particular spin, you were able to catch the face of the Queen. It was not a happy one. Her fingers itching towards her sword and nothing but Tissaia’s hand was keeping her from leaping out of the seat. 

That’s enough. There’s only so much I can save you from.

You broke apart from him, thanking him for the dance.  He was about to say something when the Queen’s booming voice cuts through all the music and the chatter.

“Y/N.”  

She summons you to her, the crowd parting to let you through. You kept your posture rigid and proud, just like Tissaia taught you even though inside you were shaking like a leaf.  Something about this wasn’t right. 

“It seems I haven’t had the chance to thank you for your service.”

Publicly. Tissaia says, laughter in her voice even though to the public eye she was still wearing that serious mask of hers. 

Tissaia lets you see what Calanthe is thinking and you want to squirm at the pulsing heat between your legs.

You’re kneeling right at her side, a collar being the only thing on your naked body, displaying her lions on it. Hers to use as she pleases. Nothing but a plaything for her desires. Only allowed to look at her and no one else.   

It was downright filthy and you could not stop the blush that appears on your face. You hope the audience doesn't notice. 

“No need, your majesty. It is my pleasure to assist Cintra.” You reply back quickly. You need her to wrap up this conversation.  

Tissaia laughs, echoing in your head. She was enjoying your discomfort. She was supposed to be helping you. 

It would be a shame if you lost control during this moment wouldn’t it.

Another image, hers, this time a memory. She had lied, she fully intended on punishing you after all. She was going to make you regret your tardiness. 

You beg for Tissaia to go harder as her strap thrusts in and out of you. Calanthe is underneath you, licking your clit as Tissaia fucks you. Her nails trailing down the inside of your thigh. 

You know what she is trying to do now. You need to control yourself unless you want the entire crowd to know what was going on. You can feel your skin start to become sweaty. 

“Y/N, always so modest,” she says, leaning up in her throne. “Stand at my side and let the people thank you.” 

You hesitantly climb the steps to the throne and turn facing the crowd. They began to applaud you for your service. You tried to ignore the discomfort of your soaked panties as you nodded and smiled at their applause. 

Calanthe has you laid out on the table, your body visible for the entire room to see as she fingers you harshly. You are moaning her name over and over again while the man watches. Tissaia is on the other side of you, running a finger over  your breasts while she plants kisses to your neck. 

Your eyes dilate, Tissaias magic letting you actually experience the feeling. The stretch of her fingers, the feeling of her tongue on your skin all seemed like it was real and a slight shiver shot through your form. It was about to happen, you look over at the Queen who was staring at you. Her eyes were full of lust and they were unforgiving. She would not let you leave until you came in front of all these people and you were dangerously close. 

You tried to calm down, surely it was going to be over soon. When Tissaia hit you with the strongest image of the night. 

You were on Calanthe riding her on the throne, her hand pulling on your hair as she slides into you repeatedly. The other hand roughly grabbing your ass, it was pure bliss. You kept going down on her toy until she takes your hips suddenly, preventing you from moving. She thrusts into you harshly hitting your spot at the right angle. You could feel her inside you, your breathing becoming unstable as you came closer and closer and-

The only visible sign of you climaxing is the slight twitch of your hands. The amount of self-control you had surprised even you. Your teeth clenching together as wave after wave of pleasure hit you. Your breaths only getting slightly heavier as you rode out your orgasm. It was agonizing but it felt so good as you came. Queen Calanthe lets you sit down next to her as the applause ends and the festivities start again. She whispers to you.

“Next time, come when we call.” 

They are going to be the death of you.

[lostinsantacarla]

Devil Went Down to Georgia

(A request by @nyx-daughterofchaos98 A reaction to the song by The Charlie Daniels band. I hope you enjoy it. My apologies for taking so long.)

It was one of those rainy nights when the boys took their patronage to their favorite local bar on the wharf and hung out around a table near the tap, but not far from the old music box. Aside from the arcade, the humans of age liked to gather at this spot in particular, making it quite a loud, but cozy atmosphere as various sports and the like played silently on the overhead TV screens.

The boys blended in very well. Marko and Paul sat across from each other playing a game of Rummy, and Paul was actually winning this hand. Usually it was Marko on top of the lead in scores.  David sat in between them on a stool, putting him a little higher than the two, while Dwayne stood at the bar. The second in command had his eye on a young girl at the other end.

She was pretty, red hair and green eyes and her drink of choice was a cosmopolitan. Very much in her own world, ignoring the bustle around her, the sound of music inside her head surrounded her outside like notes of music on a sheet of paper.

Dwayne knew the song. It had been around awhile, and he knew what it was like not being able to get something like a song on repeat out of your head. Paul understood it too, although when that vampire had a song playing in his head, it was usually on purpose.

He glanced at David, who looked ready to step outside for a smoke, and maneuvered his way to the little music machine that thankfully time hadn’t forgotten. Of course, these days it was free choice, given the fact that everyone had smart phones with the ability to play whatever they wanted to hear. The selections seemed infinite and sure enough, the song was there.  With a slight click of a red button, the dial was flipped and ‘The Devil Went Down to Georgia’ sprang from the speakers.

No one could deny the catchy tune as a fiddle started it off, and a few of the humans in the room looked up in surprise, making it obvious they hadn’t heard it in a while, but welcomed it back into their lives.

Marko was studying his hand, eyes traveling back and forth between it and the pile in front of them, determined to make his next move count when his leg started to dance absently under the table. If there was a devil in the room, it had to be him, though most always declared it was David.

Paul moved up and down on the balls of his feet, waiting almost impatiently for Marko to decide. It was then he realized that Dwayne had been the one to pick the song and while it didn’t surprise him, the choice was mediocre in his opinion.  All music had a ring to it, but this one in particular made him feel like he should have been at a barn dance. He gave Dwayne the look of, ‘what the hell?’ but didn’t say it out loud.

“How can you call yourself a musician, Paul, if you don’t appreciate music overall?” David asked, his tone as always calm and collected. The type of calm you had to be careful about deciphering just in case there was a storm behind it. In this case, he was only giving his fellow comrade a hard time.

“It’s not that I don’t appreciate,” Paul explained. “Just not something I’d pick for myself. Dude, are you gonna go or what?” He reached out and kicked Marko in the shin.

“The fuck, dude?” Marko asked. He’d been listening to the lyrics while contemplating his winning strategy and gave David a look. They were always looking for the next soul to steal as the song proclaimed.

“What made you pick this one?” David asked Dwayne.

Dwayne remained silent but raised his beer and tipped it towards the young lady, who was blushing behind her cocktail.

‘It was on her mind.’ He told the three of them through their mental means of communication.

More lyrics filtered through as Marko finally made a move.

‘Johnny you resin up your bow and play your fiddle hard 'Cause hell's broke loose in Georgia and the devil deals the cards

And if you win, you get this shiny fiddle made of gold But if you lose, the devil gets your soul…’

He threw his hands up, the winner at last and Paul tossed his cards into a disastrous pile on the table.

“Dare me not to jump up on this thing and do a jig,” Marko chuckled, turning to lock eyes with the ‘winner’ of the song of choice for the night.

Paul turned to her as well, as did David and Dwayne, and while their looks were curious, the predator inside was always lurking under the surface. It made them appear menacing even when they weren’t trying to be, and the girl spit out part of her drink.

‘The devil opened up his case and he said, "I'll start this show" And fire flew from his fingertips as he rosined up his bow

He dragged the bow across the strings, and it made an evil hiss The band of demons joined in and it sounded something like this’

David smiled and stood to take a bow. Paul nodded and started to tap the top of the table, giving up and giving in to the jam. Marko sat back for a moment, aloof and relaxed, a coy smile on his face before getting up to retrieve a shot of whiskey for all four of them. That left Dwayne wide open. The question was, would the lady take his challenge?

‘When the devil finished johnny said "well you're pretty good, old son But sit down in that chair right there and let me show you how it's done”’

To his surprise, she cleaned away the spilled alcohol, sat up straight and raised a hand to get the bartenders attention. Before he’d even made his way halfway, she said very loud and clear, “Four blowjobs for these boys in front here,” and she pointed at each.

Paul, naturally, was the first to lose his shit, a combustion of laughter that left him sweeping most of the cards off the table with his movement alone. No one needed them anymore anyway. “I’ll take one of those any night, sweet cheeks,” he declared. If this were the song that did it, he couldn’t argue it either anymore.

Marko’s grin turned downright seedy. He applauded her and accepted as well, temporarily leaving behind the whiskey. It was a little sweet for his liking, but how could any of them resist a good blow job?

Dwayne was actually laughing and with David’s approval he waved her down to join them as the shots were prepared and set out in front of them.

Thank goodness for alcohol and its stimulant effect on the young lady, making her deny the fact that these four were monsters. Or perhaps she was just in the mood for a good challenge as the song noted and they were four devils that weren’t going to win this showdown.

David at first was reluctant as always to put himself in such a vulnerable state out in public, but he gathered with his gang. Each of them took a seat at the card table, drink in front of them and with their hands behind their backs, they took the shot, tilted their heads up and drank. Boom. The knock of glasses hitting wood rose, as did their faces, whipped cream on their upper lips.  

The young lady got a good laugh as the song was coming to its close.

‘The devil bowed his head 'cause he knew that he'd been beat And he laid that golden fiddle on the ground at johnny's feet

Johnny said, "devil, just come on back if you ever want to try again I told you once, you son of a bitch I'm the best that's ever been"’

“You boys wanna go again?” she taunted.

“Come sit down on my lap,” Dwayne invited, patting his knee. “Then we’ll talk.”

In that moment she probably thought she’d beaten the devil, or possibly his four demons, but in reality, she had no idea what she was in for.

[sapphossidechick]

i was rereading this chapter and i realized that in the last one i said the llama was fifteen feet tall and ten feet wide, but in this chapter i said that cockpit was in the llama’s head and there are multiple rooms in there, so apparently my sixth grade self either didn’t know what fifteen feet was, didn’t know what consistency was, or just didn’t care about either. so sorry about that

Chapter 7: We fly to find a daughter of Apollo in a llama named Jeffrey

When I woke up, we were flying, and I was lying in a sleeping bag. Phoenix was in the cockpit, which turned out to be the llama’s head. The room I was in must have been a sleeping area/everything else area. Two more sleeping bags were spread out on the floor around me. There was a desk and three chairs shoved up next to a window. A map of California was thrown onto the table with pins in it. Livia stood next to the desk looking out the window. She was wearing a Bambi t-shirt and jean shorts with Mickey Mouse patches on them. Oh, yeah. And the room was pink. I sat up and looked at my clothes. I was wearing Goofy pajamas. The intercom crackled, and Phoenix’s voice ran through the llama.

“Morning, sleepy head. We got you some new clothes.”

Livia didn’t even turn around, but she gestured listlessly towards my backpack in the corner of the room.

“If you want to change,” Phoenix said. “The bathrooms are in the legs.”

I grabbed my backpack and headed over to where any legs would be. A circular trapdoor led downwards. I opened it and crawled inside. The bathroom was well lit, and a latter led upwards. I still couldn’t believe Phoenix had made this thing in ten minutes. I opened my backpack, which now had a Dumbo pin on it, (thanks girls) and groaned. Inside was a t-shirt with Peter Pan on it.

“Are you kidding me?” I yelled.

Above me I could hear the two girls laughing.

“This is NOT FUNNY!”

Even though I was mad, I was grateful I had a clean shirt. I snatched it up and threw it on. I also grabbed out a pair of jeans. Once I was changed, I climbed back up to the main room.

“Jason,” Livia told me. “Welcome aboard Jeffrey the flying llama.”

My first reaction was, “You named a llama Jeffrey?”

Stupid, I know, but who names a flying llama Jeffrey (sorry all Jeffreys in this world)? Livia cracked up.

“Yeah, Phoenix’s idea.” Phoenix waved at me from the front.

“Morning, Jason!” she called sarcastically.

I rolled my eyes.

“How long was I out?” I asked.

Livia shrugged.

“Phoenix had a timer going.”

Phoenix checked a clock in the cockpit.

“That was about twenty hours, man. I was starting to worry.”

I laughed. Phoenix never worried about anyone, and she knew I had been out longer than that before. She pushed a gigantic button and a table full of food came out of hidden door in the wall. Chairs popped up around it.

“Bon appetit!” she called.

I pulled up a chair and dug in. The bacon tasted amazing. The pancakes were also delicious. Either that, or I was so hungry that I didn’t care. Livia made her way to the cockpit, no doubt to watch for the flowers.

“They're gone!” she exclaimed. “Normally they’re here until dark. Something must’ve happened to Reyna!”

I stood up so fast I knocked my plate off the table. It fell to the floor with a crash. “Do we know anyone who might know what happened to her?” I asked.

They both shook their heads. I was scared for Reyna. Why, oh, why did Octavian have to mess up everything? We were perfectly fine without him. “Where are we gonna go now?” I asked.

Livia shook her head. “Back to camp, I guess.”

When we got back, people clapped us on the back and applauded us because we’d survived. I know I was downright miserable. Jayni ran to greet us.

“I’m so sorry you didn’t find her, guys,” she told us. “But, ah, Jason, we need to talk.”

She led me to the Senate House. It was completely empty. We sat down. “Octavian,” she began. “Has made himself augury.”

If you don’t know what that is, it’s kind of like a person who tells the future. If Octavian had made himself augury, then we would have to rely on him to translate the gods’ messages. That would not be good.

“How ‘bout we pay him a visit,” I told her.

As we walked to find Octavian, I had the same feeling I was being watched as the day Reyna disappeared. If that happened every time something bad was about to happen, something was about to go horribly wrong.

“There he is.” Jayni pointed ahead of us.

Octavian was standing before a statue of Jupiter, murdering a teddy bear. From his belt, he pulled out a knife and cut off the teddy bear’s head. Then he spread out the stuffing.

“Octavian!” I called. “Don’t you have anything better to do than kill teddy bears? I mean, if you’re so important, shouldn’t someone do that for you?”

He eyed me suspiciously, but I was on a roll.

“And if you’re so special, did a god recommend you to be augury?”

“No,” he said. “But—”

“Then why are you augury?”

“Because, well—”

“Go ahead and check that in your teddy bear stuffing.”

He scowled at me. “I was voted into this position, Grace.”

Jayni scoffed. “Really, Octavian? I don’t recall being invited to vote in that senate meeting, nor do I recall anyone else doing that. If there was a meeting, I wouldn’t have voted for you anyway. There are people more worthy than you, you know.”

I made a mental note to fist bump Jayni later. Octavian paled. I think it’s understandable to do so when the two figures of authority are on your case. But that didn’t stop me from smirking. Honestly, it’s a bit hard to stop me from doing anything if it’s a normal reaction, or it’s something extremely stupid that I just have to do. That being said, breaking rules doesn’t come naturally to me, just like being polite doesn’t come naturally to Octavian. I walked up to the annoying brat, and put my hand on his shoulder. He flinched.

“Octavian, buddy,” I said. “You have a good day, but remember to not mess with my friends, or you’ll be seeing the end of your “career” as augury.”

I then walked out of the room. I could feel Octavian’s eyes on me as I left. Jayni ran to catch up to me.

“That,” she said. “Was totally awesome.”

I gave her her deserved fist bump. Then we went to go find Phoenix and Livia. We found them sitting by the Little Tiber. It streamed around their feet causing small bubbles to appear. They both looked solemn, as though someone had died.

“—which is why we need to go,” Phoenix was saying. Livia nodded.

“But if she really is—”

“I know she’ll be able to help. We just have to find her.”

“But if you don’t even know where she is, it’s just like a death wish. The monsters will take us as free bait.”

Phoenix looked up. When she saw us, she smiled, but I knew it was strained. When you spend a couple of life and death situations with a person, you come to read them pretty well.

“Jason,” she said. “We need to talk. I may know someone who can help us, but you have to agree to leave camp again.”

I nodded. “I knew we weren’t gonna be here that long. Eventually we’d regain hope.”

This time Phoenix gave me a real smile. “Okay. Here’s the plan. When we leave camp, we have to search for a specific person. Her name’s Aaliyah Moore. She’s my cousin, and she’s a Greek demigod, but you have to trust her.”

If that was the most surprising thing I’d heard that day, I would have been lucky. Unfortunately, the Fates didn’t seem to be on my side. I was excited. We’d found a lead. But would it be worth it? Sometimes people said one thing and meant something else. If this was the case, it wouldn’t be the first time. We climbed aboard Jeffrey the flying llama. Before we left, Jayni had insisted on giving us clean clothes. She also gave me the gift of soap.

“You smell,” she’d said, shoving the soap in my hands. “I give this to you in the hope that you’ll actually shower.”

Ouch. Phoenix and Livia had cracked up. As we boarded, they were still holding their noses in jest. Yup, these people were definitely my best friends. I couldn’t have asked for better.

Once we were on board, we took our places. Phoenix was in the cockpit, flying the llama. Livia was at the window in hope of a sign from the plants. And me, I didn’t really have a job, so I just sat down and played a sad, one player game of Mario Kart. It was sad because I kept losing to the computer generated person. It also felt so weird to be doing something so normal that a regular, mortal teen would be doing.

“Hey, Jason,” called Phoenix. “I’ve got a job that’ll save your sorry butt from losing again.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. I walked up to the cockpit. I’d never actually been inside the cockpit before, partly because Phoenix didn’t want me up there, partly because I had no reason to be up there. She pointed at the radar by her right hand.

“See that dot?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

“That’s where we believe my cousin is. But to be sure, I need you to scout ahead, because you’re Superman.”

I closed my eyes. I was really starting to dislike all these nicknames.

“Okay, fine. What does she look like?”

She turned to a computer that I swear was not there before. She pulled up a photo of a young girl. She had long, black hair that was loosely braided, and it cascaded down her shoulder. She had dark skin and eyes that looked golden. In the picture, the girl was laughing. Her smile was so real, it made my heart ache. I must admit, the girl was beautiful.

“This is Aaliyah. If you can find her, we’ll find you.”

She stuck something like a pin on my shirt.

“This is a tracker,” she told me. “It’ll help us find you.”

I nodded. I wanted to find this girl so that we could find Reyna, because if even flowers couldn’t find her, maybe no one could.

“Press this button when you find her, and you’ll let the ship know that you’ve found her.”

I gave her a thumbs up and walked back to the main room. Livia nodded at me and gestured to a door that I’d never seen before.

“If you jump out, you’ll be able to scout ahead.”

I opened the door and got a facefull of wind. I stepped out onto it and closed the door. I manipulated the winds ahead of the llama. I couldn’t see Phoenix, but I gave her a thumbs up. Then I swooped down through the clouds.

The first thing I saw when I left the clouds was a giant map of the city. If this is what I had to search through, it might take a while.

Then I remembered what Phoenix had told me.

“Search small sections at a time. It’ll be easier than everything at once.”

I headed down to a cul-de-sac where a couple of children were playing. If they were mortal, they wouldn’t notice me. If they weren’t, then we’d have found Aaliyah.

I landed on a patch of grass. A young boy noticed me and gave me a thumbs up. Obviously, he was not Aaliyah. But I decided to ask him if he knew her.

I walked up to him.

“Have you seen a girl named Aaliyah?” I asked.

He looked at me suspiciously.

“What do you want with my sister?”

Oh, no. This kid is her brother? I thought. What am I gonna say?

I hate to admit it, but Phoenix saved the day.

“Incoming, Jason,” said her voice from the pin. “You’ve located her.”

The boy stopped in shock.

“Phoenix is with you?” he asked.

I nodded.

“And she trusts you?”

I laughed. “I hope so.”

“Then I trust you.”

He turned around. “Aaliyah!”he called. “Get over here.”

A girl walked over. She was dressed in a tank top and jean shorts. She looked about my age, maybe a year older.

“Hi,” she said.

Then the llama landed. Aaliyah’s eyes lit up.

“Wow,” she said, breathlessly.

Phoenix stepped out of the llama. She ran to hug Aaliyah.

“I’ve missed you,” she told her.

Aaliyah nodded. “Right back at you. I’ve got so much to tell you.”

Phoenix turned to the little boy. “Jake!” she cried. “Oh my gosh, you’ve gotten so big.”

He smiled. “I lost my front teeth,” he said, pointing at the two large holes in his mouth.

She nodded. “I'm sorry, but we really need to go. I’ll be seeing you around, Jake.”

Jake looked sad, but he nodded. “Take care of my sister, mister,” he told me, as sternly as a six year old could.

I gave a thumbs up. “Yes sir,” I said.

We climbed back into the llama with Aaliyah. Phoenix immediately ran to the cockpit, and we took off. Phoenix pressed her giant button again, and we dug into lunch.

“So,” said Aaliyah, with a mouthful of food. “You’ve got some explaining to do.”

So I told her everything, with Phoenix and Livia filling in the parts I forgot. I explained how we had been in battle when Reyna showed up, and how Octavian appeared conveniently after the battle. I explained how he had managed to make Reyna run away. I told her about Annabeth and the Sopwith Camel, and my dream about Saturn. I told her we went to Disneyland by following Livia’s flowers. I described our fight with the Empusa, and the fight with Mickey Mouse. I told her about what I had heard while Reyna was at the store. I also found myself telling her about our sad return to Camp Jupiter, and how we came to find her. When I was done, I had finished three burgers, and was on my fourth. Aaliyah just sat there looking stunned. She looked at Phoenix.

“How did you know to come to me?” she asked.

Phoenix shrugged. “When your mother told you who you were, and how you always knew the answer to things, I assumed you would be able to help me. So I came to find you. You can help us, can’t you?”

Aaliyah nodded. “She was in my dreams for the past two weeks. I know where she is.”

I made a time out  gesture with my hands.

“Who are you?” I asked.

“I am Aaliyah Evans,” she said, straightening up. “Daughter of Apollo.”

and now we’re involving the greeks ooooo fun!!

the llama having multiple rooms in it but being built in like 10 minutes plsssssjksjsjanas

[thegreymoon]

dUDE I just stood up and applauded your rant about that bradley james thread. you perfectly summed up how stupid cancel culture is. thank you.

Yeah, cancel culture is just... ugh. Men are easy enough to cancel as it is, there are so many rapists, abusers, narcissists, capitslists, sociopaths, climate change deniers, flat-earthers, fundamentalists, actual racists, homophobes and downright stupid, evil people out there! In comparison, the "dirt" they have on Bradley is that he made an unfunny joke and an iffy call to delete an Instagram post that was ruining his day. Like, just let me enjoy the guy until something actually problematic comes along, please!

[worryinglyinnocent]

Fic: The Real Housewives of Storybrooke (17/?)

A fic based on this premise here, following the lives of Storybrooke’s elite wives, with all the scandal, bitching and backstabbing that goes on behind the scenes of high society…

This verse is open for prompts!

====

[One] [Two] [Three] [Four] [Five] [Six] [Seven] [Eight] [Nine] [Ten] [Eleven] [Twelve] [Thirteen] [Fourteen] [Fifteen] [Sixteen] [AO3]

====

REGINA

“Darling, you look like you could use a drink.”

A tumbler with a generous measure of amber liquid in it floated in front of Regina’s face, the ice cubes tinkling in time with the bracelets on the heavily laden hand that was holding it. She looked up to see Carrie de Ville giving her a sympathetic smile, and she accepted the whisky gratefully. 

Carrie sat down on the steps beside her. Regina had escaped out of the increasingly stuffy ballroom and come out for some fresh air, and once she had sat down, she knew that she wasn’t going to be getting up again in a hurry. Even though it had turned out for the best, the confrontation with Zelena had been exhausting, and Regina, for all she was the soul of the party at the best of times, wanted nothing more than to go home to bed. 

“I understand that there was a bit of a kerfuffle earlier,” Carrie said conversationally. Regina just groaned. “Don’t worry, I was on the other side of the room and it was a very quiet kerfuffle, but Robyn dragging her mother out was certainly a sight to behold.”

Regina sighed. “It’s my fault. I knew that she was going to make trouble, she as good as said that she was last night, but I’m just so sick of accommodating her to make sure that she doesn’t make trouble - and half the time even if I do pander to her then she makes trouble anyway - I just didn’t want to do it anymore.”

“No, I think you’ve done the right thing.” Carrie took a sip of her own drink. “She’s never going to learn if you let her have her own way all the time. She’s very much like a child in that respect. She’ll constantly push against her boundaries. Especially if we don’t enforce them. Still, from what I’ve heard, I think that these events will have put a dampener on her spirit, at least for a little while.” 

“Here’s hoping.” Regina raised her glass in a toast and chinked it against Carrie’s. “I think she might finally stop harassing Belle at any rate. Our little bookworm was absolutely magnificent earlier. I mean, she was magnificent when she was smacking Zelena in the face too, but tonight she was the epitome of calm disdain, I was amazed. You’d think she’d had that speech planned. And we’ve always known that Robyn has a tiny bit of influence over her mother. Maybe that can come into the fore now.”

“Here’s hoping. What was it all about, anyway?”

Regina shook her head. “It’s Belle and Cameron’s private business and not mine to share. I only know because I was in earshot of Zelena’s vitriol, so I’m pretending I haven’t heard until I’m told officially.”

“Ah, I see.” Carrie was grinning her conspiratorial grin, and Regina immediately knew that she’d figured it out for herself. Carrie was one of the Golds’ closest friends after all, and she of all people knew how desperately they wanted to have a child together. “Well, let’s put that away and not let it spoil the rest of the night. I think that the party’s been a great success. How much do you think you’ve managed to raise?”

“Enough to make a difference, hopefully. I should really get back in there, Mary Margaret will be making her speech soon and I promised that I’d be there to prod her in front of the microphone if she gets cold feet.”

“Ah, we’ve got time. How’s the fight going in the council chambers?”

“Really well. It’s almost in the bag, and Victoria Belfrey’s going to be spitting feathers soon. I must admit that it’s been fun watching Fiona try and scramble to save the situation. I wonder when I ought to tell her that there’s going to be an investigation into her taking bribes?”

“Oh, I think that should be a lovely surprise for her when she gets the letter, don’t you think?” Carrie winked. “We don’t want to be giving her any chance to weasel her way out of it all now, do we?”

“Carrie, sometimes I think you’re downright evil.”

“One of us has to be, and my shoulders are broad.”

“How come you get to come and hide out here and I don’t?” 

Regina looked over her shoulder to see Robin peering out of the door. He came over and sat down on her other side, pulling off his bow tie and loosening his shirt collar. As much as she loved it when he got nicely dressed up, Regina did have to admit that she liked it even better when the tuxedo started coming off, as it inevitably did towards this stage of the evening. 

“I was going to call Robyn,” he said. “I didn’t see her come back in after she pulled Zelena out and I was beginning to, well, not worry, but wonder.”

“Yes, probably a sound idea. I can’t say that I blame her if she’s decided not to come back out of embarrassment, but it would be a shame. Robyn likes a good party.”

Robin moved off to the side and took out his phone, and Carrie leaned into Regina’s side. 

“Come on. Let’s go back in and given Mary Margaret moral support through her speech, and then you can slope off home and get your wonderfully dishevelled man just where you want him. If you’re not too tired for that, of course.”

Regina felt like she was dead on her feet, but when it came to getting Robin out of formalwear, she could always find a little bit of energy in her reserves, and she smiled. Carrie gave a salacious wink and stood up, offering a hand to pull Regina off the steps. 

“I can’t bow out early,” she protested. “I’m hosting the thing.”

“Oh, nonsense.” Carrie waved away her worries with her whisky tumbler, amazingly not spilling any. “I can take over for you. You know that Ursula and I will be here to the bitter end, we always are.”

Regina remembered a few occasions when she’d held functions at her own house and Carrie and Ursula had ended up helping to clean up afterwards. She certainly couldn’t fault their dedication to getting the most out of every party.

“I suppose I can rely on that if nothing else,” she said. 

“Exactly. After everything you’ve had to put up with tonight, I think you deserve to take a breather.”

Robin finished his phone call then and came over to them. 

“She went to call Tilly but she’ll be back in a couple of minutes. Shall we go and hear Mary Margaret’s masterwork?”

Regina linked her arms through Carrie and Robin’s. “Yes. And then, it’s time to go home.”

X

MARY MARGARET

Mary Margaret was not used to making speeches, and she had to say that her maiden attempt had gone very well even if she did say so herself. Everyone had applauded at the end of it and no one had broken into giggles or awkward coughing fits halfway through, and there had been no horrible moments of stony silence. Still, it wasn’t an experience that she was going to want to repeat in a hurry, as much as she knew that it was excellent practice for the more hands-on role that she was now taking in her own company. 

David came over as she made her way towards the bar for a pick-up after stepping away from the microphone. 

“I think you did great,” he said. “Now you can put it all away and never have to make a public appearance again.”

It wasn’t going to be quite that simple, of course, not when the Trust was going to be at the forefront of the conservation efforts in Storybrooke; Mary Margaret knew that she had just established herself as the figurehead of the fight against Belfrey Developments. Victoria Belfrey and Fiona Black were both conspicuously absent from the party, and Mary Margaret hoped that meant that the tide of public opinion was turning against them. 

“Well, I can hope so.” They made it to the bar and as tempted as Mary Margaret was to order a quadruple vodka and tonic to lay her out for the rest of the evening, she stuck to wine. 

“Darling, I think that was a triumph.” Carrie de Ville came over and air-kissed her on both cheeks. “It’s almost a shame that the enemy isn’t here to have heard it.” 

Mary Margaret had never quite known how to handle Carrie, who was larger than life at the best of times and even larger once she had several units of alcohol inside her. She certainly wouldn’t want to come up on the wrong side of her and she was very glad that they were united in the stand against Belfrey. 

Regina and Robin had followed Carrie over and waited until she was distracted ordering refills before speaking to Mary Margaret.

“That was really good, Mary. I don’t think you need to worry.” Regina smiled. “Robin and I are going home now. I think Carrie’s decided to take hosting duties upon herself, although if she drinks any more whisky then Ursula might have to take her home in a wheelbarrow.”

Mary Margaret eyed up Carrie’s tumbler dubiously. “Yes, I can quite see that happening. Are you ok? I saw that there was a bit of drama with Zelena earlier but I wasn’t close enough to hear what was going on.”

“Yes, she was just being her usual self, but I think the wind’s been taken out of her sails somewhat now. All the same, it’s been exhausting trying to deal with her, and I think I need to go and lie down and not think about anything for about a week.”

“Well, I think you deserve that. You go and enjoy the rest of your evening in peace. Now that all the talking’s done, I can’t see people hanging around for a lot longer.”

“Oh, I don’t know. There’s still a lot of food available and the queue for the bar isn’t getting any shorter. You know Storybrooke. We may not be a particularly large place but we do love any opportunity for a good party.”

Goodbyes were said and Regina and Robin made their way towards the exit. 

“Do you want to bow out too?” David asked. 

Mary Margaret looked around at the ballroom and the party still in full swing.

“No, I think I’m good to stay for a while. We haven’t had a proper date night for ages. Might as well make use of the babysitter.”

David smiled. “I like the way you think.”

[kpope-empire]

Dear Kpop Stans: A Lesson on Manners

As I was browsing through Twitter today, I noticed that people were sending their prayers off to the Dolan Twins because someone had passed away. To my surprise, during my research to figure out who exactly passed away, I noticed some kpop stans using this opportunity to make fun of the Dolan Twins and drop fancams of their faves.

Exhibit A

Exhibit B

Exhibit C

Exhibit D

And lastly, Exhibit E

As you can see, this is not just “making fun” of the Dolan Twins. I frankly don't think there is even a word bad enough to describe what some of these stans are doing. This is downright one of the most disgusting things I have ever seen part of the kpop fandom do.

Some of you may not know what permitted these awful demons to deem this as okay. I certainly didn't. Apparently, the twins made fun of Idols passing out from being overworked. While I myself do not know how true this is, or the extent of it, that does not make this type of behavior okay. In fact, it is the furthest thing from okay. It is inhumane. 

The Dolan Twins lost a FATHER. From cancer of all things. This is one of the roughest times these boys will live through, and these absolute trash cans want to make it even worse for them. No one deserves this type of treatment. This is NOT karma for disrespecting your Bias. This is a loss of a father to his family. Give them respect. Give them support. This is absolutely NOT the time to push out your faves. You do NOT take advantage of somebody's death.

How do you think your faves would think of you? Do you think that they would support you in this? Do you think they would be proud and pat you on the back for a job well done? Absolutely not. I have seen some of the most humble and kind people in the kpop industry, and they would be absolutely appalled at your actions. Your faves did not ask you to do this for them and they never would. They do not support this kind of thing.

You all want to blow up Respect Lisa, where is that same energy and support for the twins? How many idols have we lost this year already? Its been a year since Jonghyun passed away and we all know the pain of losing him. How do you think the Dolan family feels about losing their father, son, friend and loved one? 

As the kpop community, can we do no better? I applaud those of us that have stood up for the twins, despite what they have done. You guys are the real ones. However, as international interest in kpop is constantly growing, do you want people to be scared away and hate not only the fandom, but kpop as well? Less of the world would witness their talent.

As the kpop fandom, community, and FAMILY, please bring support to the Dolan Twins and their family. We know how hard loss is. 

It is 2019. We can do better.

[vortexofentertainment]

The Few Things - Chapter Eleven

Soooo, I’m sorry for anyone who’s been waiting for this (if you’re even out there). I know it’s been, like, two months. Life’s been crazy and I have had zero motivation/creativity in me. I apologize if this sucks, but I’m just glad to be (hopefully) back in the swing of things. Also, happy late birthday to @scatteredworlds ! I love you, boo ;)

*I don’t own Pitch Perfect or any of the characters

*Here’s a master post since I’ve been a dick and haven’t updated in so long.

“Okay ladies, line it up!” Aubrey said with a clap of her hands.

Beca watched as all nine girls scrambled to get into place. Emily and Stacie looked a little more lost than the other seven, but confident none the less. 

The Bellas had been practicing for a week or so now, and Beca finally held up to her promise to come and watch. Chloe had insisted that she give them at least a little more time to get ready, considering none of them had performed in a while. 

But Beca didn’t care really about the other Bellas. Her eyes were glued to Chloe and her ears were tuned to the music that really needed an update. She couldn’t help but wonder if this wasn’t the exact same routine they performed all those years ago. 

They weren’t terrible. A little rusty maybe. Stacie and Emily fit in perfectly as they went through the routine and Emily even had a solo. 

And, to Beca’s surprise, when Chloe said that they had a beatboxer named Lilly she was talking about the same Lilly that was Beca’s friend in college. Beca had no idea the girl was in an a capella group, but then again, she really didn’t know anything about Lilly. She was secretive, weird, and kind of scary. Oh, and one hell of a beatboxer.

“How do I get in on this shindig?” Amy asked as she watched alongside Beca. She had brought her blonde friend for support, to keep her from falling into Chloe’s trap of twerking and other sexy moves that had Beca practically drooling. 

“Seriously?” Beca asked looking over at Amy. The Bellas finished their performance and Chloe skipped over to Beca with a big smile on her face.  

“So?” Chloe asked expectantly. 

“I want in!” Amy blurted out. Chloe looked at her, clearly confused but also elated. 

“Can you match pitch?” Chloe asked as she stood up a little straighter. 

“Try me,” Amy challenged, and Chloe did.

Beca was surprised that her friend could match every pitch Chloe threw at her. When did all of her friends become so talented? 

“Why don’t you come to practice tomorrow, and we’ll see how well you can adapt to the choreography,” Chloe grinned. 

Amy nodded once and then she was off to socialize. Beca hoped the other Bellas were ready for someone like Amy. She could be a lot at first. 

“Becs,” Chloe said as she took Beca’s hand in both of hers. 

“You were great,” Beca told her truthfully. She pulled Chloe a little closer and kissed her. “The music is a little outdated, but you guys are good.”

“I could think of someone who could update the music and add a killer alto to our pack,” Chloe said hopefully.

“Chloe,” Beca groaned. “You guys are great, and with Amy now you have the ten you wanted to begin with.”

She could see the disappointment in Chloe’s face as she spoke. Everything inside of her wanted to give in and just agree to do it.

“How about I help with the music? I can do that,” she compromised. It was amazing what Chloe could convince her to do without really saying anything at all.

“Fine,” Chloe mumbled as she stuck out her bottom lip in a pout. “It’s better than nothing, I suppose.”

“Don’t be mad.” Beca leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her girlfriend’s nose.

“I’m not mad,” Chloe exhaled. “Just disappointed,” she added, and she wrapped her arms around Beca’s waist and pulled her closer. “But I get it. It’s not for you.”

Beca didn’t say anything, she just chewed on her bottom lip as she studied Chloe’s disappointed face. She knew the redhead wasn’t trying to guilt her into it, but she still felt that ache in her heart that came with disappointing anyone. 

“Okay, fine,” Beca broke in a huff. She couldn’t believe she was doing this. 

“Wait, what?” Chloe asked, leaning away from Beca to see her face a little better. 

“I’ll do it,” Beca said unenthusiastically as she closed her eyes tightly. “Just… yeah. I’ll do it.” She opened her eyes to see just how excited Chloe was.

“Becs, you don’t have to,” Chloe tried to backtrack. It was cute, really. The way her eyes were glowing with excitement, but she was trying to keep a serious face.

“I want to, for you,” Beca told her. “Hell, it’s not like I have anything better to do.”

“That’s the spirit,” she heard from behind her. She turned and looked at Aubrey. She couldn’t get a good read on the blonde’s expression. “Hi, I’m Aubrey Posen. Chloe’s best friend,” she said as she stuck her hand out for Beca to shake.

“Beca,” Beca replied, taking the outstretched hand. Aubrey’s grip was strong and a little too tight in Beca’s opinion.

She had heard so much about Aubrey, but nothing really to get a good read of her beforehand. Chloe just usually gushed about her and their friendship and how much she loved her best friend. It was cute, but Beca had an inkling she and Aubrey wouldn’t be that close. 

“Beca said she’s in!” Chloe grinned as she jumped up and down beside Beca. 

“Well, we’ll have to hear her sing first,” Aubrey said as she looked at Chloe. 

“I’m sorry?” Chloe asked as her brow furrowed.

“I know you said she was great, Chloe, but the rest of us need to be the judge of that as well.” 

Beca looked from Aubrey over to Chloe. The redhead looked downright offended that Aubrey would ever even consider the fact that Beca was not qualified for the Bellas. The rest of the group was crowding around them now, waiting to see how it all played out.

“You want me to audition?” Beca asked, just for her own clarity. 

“Every potential member must audition to become a Bella,” Aubrey explained. “Emily and Stacie sang for us at the first practice, and just because you’re dating Chloe doesn’t give you a pass.”

Beca raised her eyebrows a bit at the comment but a grin spread across her lips. Aubrey was a little bitchy, but Beca always liked that in a person.

“Aubrey,” Chloe said in a hushed tone. 

“No, it’s fine.” Beca turned towards Chloe, the grin still in place. “I don’t mind.”

“I’ll go first,” Amy said loudly as she stepped into the middle of the group. All the attention turned to her, including Aubrey’s, who looked confused. 

Before anyone could ask any questions or protest, Amy broke into song. She belted Since You Been Gone by Kelly Clarkson at the top of her lungs until the very end when she whispered, “Crushed it,”

Everyone applauded. Beca still couldn’t get over how her friends were all so talented as she clapped along slowly with everyone else.

“Alright Shawshank, your turn,” Amy said as she pointed to Beca very whimsically and weird. 

“Um,” Beca looked around a bit. She spotted a cup on the table beside her holding a bunch of pens. She promptly poured them all out and then took a seat on the floor in the middle of the group.

Her stomach was churning with nerves. She wasn’t used to performing in front of a crowd, no matter how small it was. She guessed it was something she should get used to since she had agreed to this whole thing. 

God, what had she gotten herself into?

She cleared her throat once before tapping the cup twice and starting the song. She had learned it from a YouTube tutorial. She spent one whole day after school working to master the Cup Song as she called it. She wasn’t sure how she came across it in the first place, or why she felt the need to be so good at it. She just knew it had never helped her in any way until now. 

When she slammed the cup down to finish the song, she looked up at Chloe’s beaming face. Her smile was big, and her eyes were bright. Even if she didn’t get into the group, that look alone was worth doing this a thousand times over in Beca’s mind. 

“Seems to me like we have two new Bellas!” Cynthia Rose said as she began to clap. 

Emily reached down and pulled Beca up, wrapping her in a hug as she let out an excited squeal. “I can’t believe you’re a Bella!” she gushed as she let go of Beca. 

“Well, she’s whipped, so it makes sense,” Stacie said as she wrapped an arm around Beca as soon as Emily let go. 

Beca felt her cheeks flush at the comment as Stacie let go. The fact the Chloe was now wrapped around her didn’t help the redness in her cheeks. Her girlfriend’s arms were wrapped tightly around Beca’s neck, bodies pressed together, as Beca managed to wrap her arms around Chloe in response.

“Beautiful,” Chloe mumbled as she peppered Beca’s face with kisses.

“Dude,” Beca giggled as she pushed Chloe away from her gently but keeping her grip on Chloe’s hips.

“Let’s celebrate!” Flo said excitedly to the group.

“Beca is DJing tonight at that club down the street,” Emily said just as excitedly. “We can all meet up there later tonight?” 

“Look at you go, Legacy,” Cynthia Rose joked as she nudged Emily. 

“Legacy?” Beca asked as she looked at Chloe. 

“Yeah, Emily’s mom used to be a Bella. That makes her a legacy.” 

“Dude, you never told me that,” Beca said as she turned to Emily. The taller brunette shrugged. 

“She used to talk about it all the time, so when I first started at Barden I had my heart set on trying out,” Emily explained. “Except the Bellas weren’t taking new members, and the next year I decided that maybe I needed to just focus on my studies…” Emily trailed off as she looked down at the ground. “I don’t know. It just never worked out.” 

An awkward silence fell over the group. 

“Anyway,” Stacie said loudly. “Club? Say around nine tonight?” 

All of the girls agreed and nodded as the split apart. Chloe stayed glued to Beca’s side until it was only the two of them and Aubrey left.

“So, you DJ too?” Aubrey asked.

“Yes,” Beca answered simply. “Maybe, if you want, I could help with some sets for the group?”

“We’ll see,” Aubrey replied and turned sharply to leave. “See you both tonight!” she called over her shoulder as she opened the door. 

Beca looked over at Chloe who was still staring at the now closed door her best friend had gone through. 

“She’ll warm up to you,” Chloe nodded, assuring not only herself but Beca. “She’s just kind of hard to get to know,” she added. She turned and met Beca’s gaze. 

“Maybe,” Beca grinned as she and Chloe started walking towards the door too. 

**

The Bellas were… something else. Not only were they easy to spot in the crowd, but they were easily the group having the most fun. 

Beca found herself looking up multiple times, a smile on her face, as she watched Chloe full belly laugh with her friends. She would throw her head back and her eyes would sparkle. Every time that happened she would she would look over at Beca as if she was in on the joke. It hurt to not be over there with them all the time. They were as close as they could get to the DJ booth, but Beca was otherwise occupied. 

That’s why, when she got a break, she immediately made her way over to the group.

“DJ!” Flo said excitedly as she spotted Beca first. 

Chloe turned excitedly, eyes shining as bright as her smile, and jumped up out of the booth to wrap her arms around Beca’s neck. 

“Hey there,” Beca chuckled as she let her hands rest on Chloe’s waist. She felt Chloe shift so that her lips were ticking her ear. It sent a shiver down her spine.

“You’re doing so good,” Chloe said in a gentle voice. “But I miss you.”

Beca could hear the influence of alcohol in Chloe’s voice. It was only the second time she had seen the redhead drunk, but she doesn’t really remember the first encounter in detail since she was also wasted. Experiencing a drunk Chloe while completely sober seemed like it was going to be fun.

“I’m right here,” Beca replied as Chloe pulled back so she was face to face with Beca. She was hovering closely, her eyes a little hooded with the alcohol. 

“Noooooo,” Chloe said, shaking her head. “Usually you’re there.” She pointed up to the booth where Beca had been confined all night. “I want you here,” she went on as she pulled Beca’s body closer to hers. 

Beca stumbled a bit but Chloe had a tight hold around her torso. Before Beca could answer, Chloe’s lips were on hers. It was soft at first, not exactly what Beca was expecting, but then it grew more passionate. Chloe slipped her tongue into Beca’s mouth effortlessly and Beca let herself get caught up in the taste of cherry and some sort of alcohol. 

“Get a room!” Beca faintly heard as Chloe pulled away with a giggle. Her heart was pounding in her chest. She didn’t think she’d ever get used to the way Chloe kissed her. 

“Here, sit.” Chloe guided a still reeling Beca into the booth where she had been sitting before. Then, she promptly made herself comfortable in Beca’s lap. 

The dress Chloe was wearing wasn’t doing anything to help Beca keep her mind straight (pun not intended but accurate nonetheless). She was wearing a strapless, tight, black dress the clung to her thighs about midway down. Now that she was sitting in Beca’s lap, the dress had ridden up just a bit.  

Beca took pleasure in knowing that it was totally and completely fine for her to rest her hand on the expanse of skin just under the hem of the dress. She gave Chloe’s leg a squeeze which caused the redhead to lean back down and kiss Beca’s temple. 

“How long are you on break for?” Chloe asked as she pulled away once more.

“Fifteen minutes or so,” Beca answered.

She took time to look around at the other Bellas, this group she was now a part of, and really take it in. Stacie was talking to Aubrey about something pretty adamantly, which shocked Beca. She was sure her best friend would have been gone by now. Emily was sitting with Jessica and Ashley who were showing her something on Ashely’s phone. From the look on Emily’s face, Beca assumed it was a puppy or some sort of cute animal. Flo and Cynthia Rose were watching Fat Amy do some sort of bottle trick that Beca was sure would end in disaster. No one really knew where Lilly had gotten off to. Then, there was her and Chloe. Chloe, who was nibbling on Beca’s ear again, her hand on Beca’s jaw trying to get her to face her once more. When she finally did, Chloe captured her lips in another searing kiss.

“What’s gotten into you?” Beca asked as she pulled away with a grin. She wasn’t complaining. Not in the slightest. PDA wasn’t her thing, but if she had a frisky Chloe Beale in her lap… she wasn’t going to stop her. 

“You just look so sexy up there doing your thang,” Chloe answered with an intoxicated giggle. Her gentle caress of Beca’s jaw turned possessive as she kissed her again. 

This kiss was just downright dirty. There was no other way Beca could describe it. Chloe was in full control as she nipped at Beca’s lower lip. She bit down a little hard, pulling a gasp from Beca in response. Her body was thrumming. It was unfair that she would have to return to the booth, all alone, in less than ten minutes. 

“Chlo,” Beca managed to get out as she pulled away from her girlfriend. 

“Bec,” Chloe replied in that voice that drove Beca crazy. 

Her whole body tingled at the thought of that voice. Her fingers dug into Chloe’s thigh on instinct. She hadn’t noticed her eyes were still closed until she opened them and met Chloe’s icy blues looking back at her. 

“Do you have time to dance with me?” Chloe asked as she slid out of Beca’s lap, landing a little wobbly on her heel clad feet. 

“Actually…” Beca said with a grin. 

It was a miracle. It really was. The timing was perfect because as soon as the word left her mouth, her own special mix of Titanium came on. 

The way Chloe lit up made Beca’s heart soar. She pulled the brunette into her arms as they made their way to the dance floor. Beca wasn’t much for dancing, but dancing with Chloe might have been her favorite thing at the moment. She remembered doing it the first time they went out, but this time there were no restrictions. 

She could place her hands on Chloe’s hips as the girl turned and backed into her. She could nibble and Chloe’s ear as the redhead reached back and tangled her fingers in Beca’s hair. She could let herself feel everything as Chloe danced against her, turning and staring at her with those lust filled eyes. It was truly amazing, and Beca hated that she had to leave her girlfriend after only one dance. 

Except, for the rest of the night she got to watch Chloe have fun with her best friends. She had even described them as her family. Beca found herself chuckling throughout the remainder of the night as she watched her three best friends intermingle with Chloe’s. It looked like they all just fit together. No question about it. 

Beca was kind of glad she had decided to become one of them, too.

[vizhi0n]

Sawney - Part 23

Chapter Masterlist                                   

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Warnings: just negans potty mouth.

Carl, unlike during Desa’s first tour of the Sanctuary, didn’t look impressed. He looked more befuddled than anything, his single eyes darting around the room as he took in everything. The way the people knelt the moment Negan entered the main area, the way each individual member had a duty, a responsibility. Desa couldn’t tell whether or not his awe was simply delayed, influenced by fear for his life.

The moment Negan suggested that they head to his room, Desa cringed. That meant the parlor. That meant the wives — Desa had been attempting to avoid them at all cost.

Nonetheless, she followed behind Negan and Carl, keeping her head ducked as they opened the door.

None of the women knelt — they hardly acknowledged Negan. Sherry and Amber were the only two who reacted. Amber, eyes red rimmed, placed her head in her hands while Sherry moved from her side, hurrying over to Negan.

Desa stayed leaning against the wall, next to the door. Carl briefly turned his head to look at her, his gaze lingering, a puzzled expression on his face.

God, he reminded her so much of Jack.

Jack had been naive. Innocent. This boy was hardened, aged. There was no telling what he’d seen. He was who Jack should have been — strong.

Desa found it hard to feel pity for Amber. Negan’s movements seemed robotic, as he knelt before her. As he spoke, Carl finally addressed Desa, walking over to her.

“Who are you?”

“I’ve already told you my name.”

“No,” Carl said in a hushed tone. “Who are you? You don’t look like you belong here.”

“I belong here. You don’t. You’ve got it twisted,” Desa tilted her chin up. “This could have gone differently for you and your people. You chose this path.”

“So did you.”

“Desa,” Negan called. She pushed away from the wall, brushing past Carl, aware that the boy was still watching her. Negan raised a finger, his voice hollow. “Do me a favor, and get the fucking iron ready. You know — the one downstairs.” 

You chose this path.

You did.

You.

“Yes,” Desa answered, and she went.

Negan didn’t make her watch, this time. She slipped away, retreating to the room she and Negan shared after she handed the iron off to Dwight, who in turn would hand it to Negan.

He made Carl watch, however. She could hear Mark’s screams echo throughout the Sanctuary, pained and twisted. She lay on Negan’s bed with a pillow over her head to block out the noise. When it was over, Desa stripped and showered, scrubbing her skin until it turned red. When she stepped out, she could hear hushed noises from beyond the bathroom door. She dried herself, dressing and cautiously stepping into the room.

The boy sat opposite of Negan, hair brushed to the side. Desa noticed the bandage in his lap, first, and her gaze naturally shifted to the jagged wound where his eye should have been. It was scarred over, but still off-putting and grotesque.

Desa couldn’t stop staring.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

Desa jumped, shaking her head and sliding onto the bed. In a tired voice, she said, “I hope you aren’t traumatizing the kid. He doesn’t need it.” 

“Stop pretending like you care,” Carl barked. He stood, though the sudden movement didn’t faze Negan. “Whatever game you’re playing, it’s over,” he stared down at Negan, fists clenched. “You know what I think? I think that you’re keeping me alive because you can’t kill me, or my dad.”

Negan smiled. He looked over his shoulder, clicking his tongue at Desa. “What a little badass. My men need to take some fucking notes,” he rested Lucille against his lap. “You’re fucking right. I can’t kill you. It wouldn’t serve a fucking purpose.”

Carl didn’t seem calmed by Negan’s admittance. Now it was Desa’s turn, and she slid from the bed, leaning down and murmuring a request in Negan’s ear, praying that he’d oblige.

“Can I talk to the kid? Alone?” Desa said with pleading eyes. Negan gnawed on his lower lip. Desa hoped that her eyes were telling him everything he needed to know.

“Fine. But make it quick.”

Negan left. Carl visibly relaxed, his one good eye staring particularly hard at one corner of the room.

“Sit down,” Desa said softly. To her surprise, Carl obeyed. She saw him slowly unclench his fist and adjust the sheriff’s hat on his head. “It was really, really stupid for you to come here.”

“You think I don’t know that?”

“There’s a lot you don’t know. But that’s not your fault,” Desa replied. “I applaud your bravery. It’s admirable. Maybe that’s why Negan likes you so much—”

“He probably likes me as much as he likes you. He uses people,” Carl growled. “Until he doesn’t need them. It’s why I’m still alive. It’s why my dad is still alive—”

“Trust me. He doesn’t like you the way he likes me,” Desa snorted. Carl’s face fell and he made a disgusted noise in the back of his throat. The closer he leaned in, the more Desa got a look at the nasty hole where his eye used to have been.

“How’d you lose your eye?”

“Bullet,” Carl answered briskly. When Desa didn’t reply, he sighed, saying softly, “Back at the house. You told me I reminded you of someone.”

“You do.”

“Who?”

Desa’s lower lip twitched, and she shifted uncomfortably. Trying to sound as dismissive as possible, she said, “My younger brother, Jack. You remind me of what he could have been. Strong.”

“How’d he die?”

Caught off guard, Desa said simply, “We were in a bad place. Surrounded by bad people. They took him from me, hurt him. And then I killed him to save him.”

Carl stared from beneath his mop of brown hair, a sad, sad expression on his young face. Almost reluctantly, he said, “Why all of this?”

“Because you asked.”

“No,” Carl responded, more strongly. “Telling me about your brother, keeping me alive, showing me this place. Why. And you…you follow him.”

“My friends are dead because of your people. What happened on the road doesn’t need to happen again,” Desa explained. “You are here because you strayed too far from your own path. It’s so easy to do the wrong thing in this world — my brother learned that the hard way. I don’t want to see the same thing happen to you, Carl.”

“It won’t.”

“I believe you,” Desa stood, peering over at the door. “Now, let’s get you home.”

“Rick is out searching for supplies,” a heavyset woman with dark hair and glasses spoke in a nervous, almost hushed tone, before finally noticing Carl. “Carl — what the hell are you doing?” 

As usual, the Alexandrian’s had welcomed them back with semi-open arms. Desa could feel the relief in air when Negan announced that, no, they weren’t here for pickup. Laura stayed back near the gate, while Arat stood guard outside the house. The dark haired woman had introduced herself as Olivia, visibly shaken by Negan’s appearance.

Nevertheless, she welcomed them inside — well, Negan welcomed himself inside, while Carl and Desa followed — before explaining Rick’s absence.

“Well, I’ll just kick my fucking feet back and wait for his return,” Negan gave a low whistle, spinning and surveying the home. “Nice fuckin’ place you’ve got here. Say, Olivia, you got any of that good-ass fuckin’ lemonade lying around?”

“I can go check,” Olivia shrugged, before her shoulders fell and she admitted, “There’s…we’re running out of food pretty fast. We’re practically starving.”

“Starving?”

Desa whipped her head to the side, raising her eyebrows at Negan’s tone. He towered over Olivia, and even though Desa knew he wasn’t trying to be intentionally intimidating, it wasn’t coming off as anything but that.

Negan chuckled and continued, “You? Starving? By ‘practically’ you mean ‘not fucking really.’”

“Negan,” Desa hissed. To her horror, Olivia’s eyes began to swell with tears. She turned away, removing her glasses and letting of a soft sob. Negan met Desa’s gaze, taken aback by her caustic glare. He scrunched up his nose, almost as if he were going to disregard Desa — his expression changed when Olivia cried even louder.

Negan turned, gently tapping Olivia on the shoulder. The woman furiously wiped away her tears, turning to face Negan with whatever confidence she had left.

Apologize. 

Desa watched with narrowed eyes as Negan leaned forward and spoke.

“I’m…sorry for being so fucking rude to you. It was uncalled for. It’s looks like we’re going to be spending a shitton of fucking time together as we await the return of your fearless fucking leader so…” Negan paused, tilting his head. “If you’re agreeable to it, I’d very much like to fuck your fucking brains out.”

Four seconds of silence. Olivia’s face went from distraught, to terrified, to downright annoyed. Her hand moved, fast and lightning, the sound of her palm hitting Negan’s cheek echoing throughout the room.

While Negan stood, stunned, Desa let out a burst of cackling laughter.

“I was, uh, fucking kidding. I’m committed to sticking my dick in one certain woman's pussy at the moment,” Negan shook his head, moving his jaw as he still recovered from the hit. “But if I wasn’t — I’d be about fifty percent more fucking into you right now.”

Olivia and Desa locked eyes, and Desa couldn’t help but wink and give the woman a nod of approval.

Negan came up with the ingenious idea of cooking spaghetti, though not before disappearing into the bathroom to shave. Carl retrieved Judith while Olivia searched for the lemonade, returning right as Negan reentered the kitchen, face smooth, dimples on full display. He draped his jacket over the kitchen chair, speaking briskly to Carl before the two of them got started on the spaghetti.

Olivia sat on the couch while Desa played with Judith, the woman visibly nervous as the toddler fiddled with Desa’s bag, before grabbing a puzzle from the corner of the living room. She said something unintelligibly, plopping down before Desa.

It was one thing after another — a puzzle, a book, a toy train. The little girl was tireless and full of energy — something Desa wasn’t used to. Nonetheless, after a few minutes, she was the only thing that mattered to Desa. Olivia’s judgmental stare, Carl constantly peering over the couch to view his sister, it all didn’t matter. The girl had captured Desa’s full attention, and for the first time, she felt raw, genuine joy, further amplified by Negan’s presence.

This is how life is supposed to be.

“Food is fucking ready,” Negan called.

“Can you please not swear in front of Judith?” Olivia gave an exasperated sigh.

“Shit — I mean fuck — I mean, darn. Sorry,” Negan waved a hand, pinching the bridge of his nose while Carl set the table. Desa joined, noticing the boy’s quietness.

“Are you okay, Carl?”

“I’m fine,” Carl didn’t look at her. “Everything is fine. This is fine.”

“You’re damn — I mean darn — right,” Negan quipped. As they began serving themselves, he rested his forearms on the table, letting out a groan. “I’m not waiting for your dad. He get here when he gets here,” he grabbed his fork. In a low voice, he said, “Carl. Can you please pass the rolls?”

[sevi007]

Ok so today some of my co-workers went to a bar and return very drunken and I imagine "hey, what if toshinori change his medicine and he gets slightly drunk and starts showing photos of izuku" that would be pretty funny 😂

So, you know, @thestarmaker-s I sawyour reply earlier, saying that you flood my inbox, and I was on the verge ofdisagreeing, and then… went to my inbox and found this ask. My arguments havebecome invalid, and I won’t disagree with you anymore.

(Just kidding, I love your asks. XD)

So I actually had this headcanonhere some time ago, where Toshinori actually carries around pictures of hiskids in his wallet, like the proud Dad he is. And since I know that peoplereally can act like drunk or tipsy when their medicaments are switched (thathappened to my uncle once), this would actually make a whole lot of sense.

Like, Toshinori switches his medicineand feels weird all day. A bit dizzy and lacking in concentration, you know.And he finds things funny he normally wouldn’t even crack a grin at.

Worried that he might be sick andinfect his students with it, he asks Recovery Girl if she could examine himafter his lessons are over. She agrees readily, telling him to take it easyuntil then.

Funny thing is – until it’s time forthe appointment, Toshinori has gotten worse. It’s nothing bad, mind you – it’sjust that he is downright tipsy now. Laughing easily at the littlest thing,wobbling in his steps, and eyes bright, he is acting so suspiciously thatAizawa accompanies him to the infirmary. Drunken Toshinori is (entirely too)grateful for that and tells Aizawa multiple times on the way there what a goodand helpful colleague and teacher he is. Aizawa just rolls his eyes at him, nowconvinced that the other is somehow drunk, and pats his shoulder reassuringly.

Actually, Aizawa feels just a littlebit uncomfortable with all those compliments, not sure how to react to all ofthem, so he is a little bit relieved when he can Toshinori over to Chiyo andleave again.

Chiyo has to hold back adisbelieving snort when she sees Toshinori like this, even though she feels abit sorry for him. Who could have guessed that he would react like that to thenew medicine?

So she orders him to lay down andsleep it off, but Toshinori is adamant about being examined by her. After all,he doesn’t want to infect his children with anything?

Huffing and searching for a way toget him to rest, Chiyo asks him how his lessons went. And how are the students?

That question hits bulls-eye.Toshinori’s frown disappears in an instant, and he basically beams at the notion of getting to talkabout his kids. Readily, albeit a bit slurred, he goes to describe every littlething that happened during the lessons with them today:

Kirishima and Mina had been passinglittle notes around and smiled innocently at them when he had collected those –only to see that it were nice messages like “We love your lessons, Sensei”.

Kaminari, who always had so muchtrouble in school, had managed to pass the last test with a good grade and hadstood up on his chair to wave his test around, cheering loudly as everyoneapplauded.

Izuku had been doodling again assoon as he had finished his work, and Toshinori had caught glimpses of apicture of the whole class. He was very much looking forward to see thefinished picture somewhere in the future.

Bakugou had not yelled or sworn allday long, even raising his hand instead of just answering the question loudly.When Toshinori had nodded at him, proud of the development, the boy had smirkedand leaned back in his seat.

On and on it goes, and somewherealong the way, Toshinori pulls out his wallet and shows Chiyo the pictures ofthe kids he keeps in there. Talking as if she has never seen the childrenbefore. She doesn’t correct him, too fond of how happy the former hero seems to be.

Toshinori talks and talks and talks,until his words slur together more and more and the weak sleeping pill Chiyohad given him before to ensure a deep sleep begins to have an effect.

Chiyo pats the blond, shaggy hairgently as Toshinori’s words trail off and his eyes flutter closed. She helps him lay down when he can’t sit upright any longer.  She tugs up theblanket around the thin shoulders, and goes to collect the pictures to put themback into his wallet.

If she takes a bit longer to sortthrough them, stopping from time and time to look from one particular pictureover to the peacefully sleeping Toshinori and back again, a fond smile on herlips, then nobody will ever know about it.

[divinitysgarden]

“If my world needed cleansing,” Arceus all but whispered, leaning in as if he was telling a secret, “don’t you think I would have done it myself?”

This new position was a lot better, in Arceus’ opinion. Not only did this make him physically taller than the person he was scolding, but it seemed to humiliate the mortal if only just a bit. At this point, his anger had made all but an aura around him that burned brighter than any flame, though obviously it wouldn’t be visible to those who couldn’t see it.

But Lysandre brought up valid points. Arceus has to physically control his breathing and backed up in an attempt to gather and state his thoughts. He was right - the world was full of strife and pain. “There are other ways to solve the world’s problems than total annihilation. I applaud you for your courage to stand up and try to change the world, but what’s truly deplorable is your methods of inducing change. Did you not think, for one minute, that perhaps you’d do a lot more damage than good?”

Arceus was still downright pissed. He stood over Lysandre, hands angrily on his hips and a frown of disappointment dominating his features. “And to think you’d want me to thank you for nearly destroying everything I’ve built, a world I’ve spent centuries cultivating. To think I’d thank you, for attempting to destroy everything I built my life around.”

@divinitysgarden

Scowling wasn’t exactly the word Arceus would use to describe his expression. Glowering was close, but it didn’t quite strike home. Not only was the god disappointed with the man before him, he was downright furious. But the act of physically tilting one’s head up to give death glares was uncommon for the gijinka. Granted, in human form he wasn’t outstandingly tall - right around 6′3″, to be precise.

But this mountain of a man before him… being physically looked down on… it made the deity all the more uncomfortable. He opened his mouth, and remained flabbergasted for a solid few minutes, searching for the words to express his feelings. This mere mortal had been inches from eradicating all life on the planet.

Arceus couldn’t help but scoff to himself. Humans had been getting more and more pushy these days. He thought the scare in Sinnoh hit a bit too close to home, but this stunt was pretty high up there in threat level.

“Forgive you?” His breath came out like a whisper, quiet and low, but rumbling with a certain energy, not unlike the power behind an earthquake. The deity shifted his weight back and forth from foot to foot. His arms trembled with rage, and he crossed them over his chest, digging his fingertips into his own upper arms to keep him from violently assaulting this human. “You think I’ll just forgive you for everything you did, and everything you tried to do, just because you asked?” Arceus scoffed, shaking his head. “Your sheer audacity never ceases to amaze me.”

Lysandre may have towered over the being before him, but he hardly felt like it.  He may have commanded respect with his regal bearing and cold, cold eyes, but even that was nothing compared to the power radiating off the creature before him.  Even at a glance, the Flare leader could tell this was no mere man.

He gave the smallest flinch as the deity’s wrath washed over him, barely more than a fluttering of his eyes.  Only one being had an aura like that.  Arceus himself.  Lysandre de Fleur knelt to no one, but it occurred to him that he really ought to now.  And so he did, taking one knee and bowing his head low.

“This world needed to be cleansed.  Can You not see how much suffering there is within it?  How much pain?  All caused by selfish humans who care for nothing but their own gain.  Such a state of affairs is deplorable.  It could not have been allowed to go on.  My intentions were good.  I only wished to perfect Your creation.”

[virginiamurrayblog]

Years Before #MeToo, Outing a Powerful Man for Bad Behaviour Nearly Ruined My Career

(Photograph: iStock)

Of the many mantras Oprah, Bruce Springsteen and Louise Hay have taught me, the one I’ve repeated most often, I cooked up all on my own: I don’t deserve this. Those four words loop around my brain like an uninvited earworm, chipping away at hopefulness I’ve felt for everything from personal relationships to my career.

I didn’t always feel so unworthy. This started because, while freelance writing full-time five years ago, I tried to do the right thing. In case my name reminds you only of macaroni or Madonna Ciccone, I wrote that salacious xoJane article about Jian Ghomeshi’s predilection for subverting the personal space and safety of women, years before anyone else came forward publicly about his conduct and a criminal trial that ensued. In the article, I talk about a terrible date I went on with the former radio host, during which he aggressively touched my body without invitation. I wanted to warn other women about him, but after it was published, I was what they call “shamed”—which really felt more like career exile.

Although it was only five years ago, the overall feeling in 2013 was that you deserved what you got for speaking out against powerful men online. No one stood up for you publicly, detractors verbally bullied and threatened you, and the powers that be at social media platforms were even worse than they are now at dealing with online harassment.

What I loved about writing for xoJane—a site started by legendary Sassy founder Jane Pratt and which called itself a place “where women go to be their unabashed selves, and where their unabashed selves are applauded”—was the idea that women could talk about the things we, at the time, still weren’t really supposed to talk about in public, or at least on mainstream media platforms. There was a freedom to the content that made it exciting, and I took full advantage of the opportunity to write about everything from upper lip hair to past abusive relationships. But that unbridled freedom came at a cost, and when articles blew up in a negative way, writers were often left to deal with the consequences alone. There was no support from my editor, who at the time refused to change both the very long and very bad title given to the Ghomeshi piece and the editing errors within it, and I was attacked from all angles—Canadian media, social media and even within my inner circles. Nowhere felt safe.

Despite their mistreatment, I kept writing for xoJane. Weird, right? Not really. My self-worth had been reduced to 140-character or less insults from Ghomeshi enthusiasts and men’s rights activists. I was doing the only thing I thought myself worthy and capable of. One trusted magazine editor reached out to me—someone I had written for in the past—and told me I ought to be more selective with what I was putting online. She seemed embarrassed for me. After that, I didn’t bother reaching out to editors from other pubs to pitch stories because I was sure no one wanted anything else to do with me. I felt barely worthy of xoJane.

During the backlash, I also started behaving in ways that *would* embarrass most people—drinking often and a lot and getting into situations with men, women and strangers that could have easily turned dangerous. I also gave the universal signal of a lady going through some shit: I cut my hair off and got bad bangs.

“People can sometimes respond to trauma by engaging in reckless or self-destructive behaviour, or by acting paranoid, jumpy, irritable or aggressive,” Dr. Ellen Hendriksen, a psychologist and author of How to Be Yourself: Quiet Your Inner Critic and Rise Above Social Anxiety, tells me over the phone while we are discussing the fallout from this period in my life. “You’re trying to manage your feelings of being betrayed or unsafe, so there’s this sense of falling apart or being damaged or broken.”

Before this happened, I had a downright plucky approach to my career. After working an editorial job at a city magazine in Calgary, I moved to Toronto in 2011 and tried my best to hustle my way through the big city and line up media work, without a clue how to do that—or the implications of being a woman trying to do that. But after that encounter with Ghomeshi in the summer of 2012, which I had gone into with networking in mind, I started to doubt the resolute approach that had gotten me where I was.

***

It takes a lot of willful passivity to protect inexcusable conduct from people in power positions. It seemed to be a laughable open secret in Toronto media that this man regularly violated and hurt women. Even a former friend of mine, who happened to be an equally powerful player in Canadian media, responded to a text about whether he was friends with Ghomeshi with, “Yeah, why did he try to fuck you? Lol.”

After writing the xoJane article and dealing with the resultant online shaming, I went from hungry to hunted, and I barely had the confidence to apply to positions I was more than qualified for, let alone boldly put myself out there. Toronto, in my mind, had become an unsafe place.

“Trauma generalizes,” says Dr. Hendriksen, “Instead of one terrible man and a few untrustworthy people, the entire city becomes evil.” Despite this, my solid experience as a writer and producer landed me a handful of interviews.

Unfortunately, more than a few of the people I interviewed with stoked the flames of my career fear. Over the phone, one woman briefly asked me about my background and qualifications, then said, “So was it true? The article. Did that really happen?” She later let me know that she couldn’t see me working at her tech company but thought that the piece was entertaining. Another potential employer had me in for an interview and asked if I planned to use my professional experiences as fodder for more pieces like the xoJane one. He also wanted to know if there was more to the story that I didn’t write—seemingly hoping for hot gossip. A different man in a one-on-one interview asked if I regretted writing the piece, and after I told him no, he patted me on the back and said, “Well, good luck.” No callbacks.

After a series of dead-end interviews and leads in Toronto, I decided to move across the country to Vancouver to write copy for a yoga pants company. It was a contract gig, and I relished the opportunity to write inconsequential words in a place where people didn’t seem to know or care about the xoJane story. When I returned to Toronto in the winter of 2015, it was long after the news broke about Ghomeshi, and the city seemed less threatening than it had before. My job search came to a sardonic pinnacle later that year, when I was invited to interview for a music writer gig at CBC Radio. Ghomeshi was out of the building by then, but CBC—and Q especially—hadn’t fully come to terms with their part in actively supporting Ghomeshi’s problematic behaviour for years.

I made my way to the interview with a strong need to prove that I still had some nerve. CBC’s Toronto HQ, which I was familiar with from working there on a contract three years before, has the tree house from Mr. Dressup on display in one of its hallways. Thoughts of Casey and Finnegan served as a comforting reminder that this company could still be and do good. I would ace this interview, get back on track in my career and everything would be ok. But when I walked through the front doors and saw red chairs in the lobby, I was reminded of Q and promptly began to hyperventilate.

I didn’t get the job—because I had a panic attack and performed terribly—but I did stay in Toronto long enough to watch the Ghomeshi trial unfold. I decided to write an essay for Chatelaine about my experience, marking a return to personal writing after over a year of silence. It was cathartic in some ways and re-traumatizing in others, because of course, I still had a great deal of detractors. Since the comments were left on, many of those detractors got to share their opinions right below my article.

Although it started out as a redemptive opportunity for his victims, the Ghomeshi trial turned out to be a permanent stain on the Canadian legal system that will forever be an example of everything wrong with the way we try sexual assault cases. The star got a slick lawyer and his accusers got the Crown. They were woefully underprepared for what would ensue. It was disorienting and painful to watch these brave women share their experiences and be torn apart for it.

It is scary as hell to call a bad man out on his bad behaviour, especially when others won’t. Before #MeToo created a movement out of believing and supporting women, those who came forward were routinely disbelieved, cast aside, laughed at, harassed and abused. Many of us are still dealing with the impact of that trauma. In fact, a common theme among of those who develop PTSD is that they often get negative reactions from those they initially share their stories with. “Regardless of the kind of trauma you’ve gone through, your first responders can make all the difference,” says Dr. Hendriksen. “If you are believed or not, or supported versus rejected, can really set the course for whether you heal naturally or develop PTSD.”

Since finding out I have PTSD, which to be honest, I genuinely didn’t know I had before I started this essay, I’ve been able to process the impact the past five years has had on my life and career in a much calmer way. I’d been struggling, even at contract gigs, to adjust to office culture—based largely on the fact that I’d been telling myself I wasn’t worthy, likeable or good. Realizing that I wasn’t always this paranoid, and that this behaviour came as a result of going through some shit, has been a relief.

I’m now freelance writing again, and currently in therapy to move on from PTSD and help build my confidence back up, career-wise. Dr. Hendriksen recommends seeking out positive experiences with people in media, to replace the negative ones I’ve had. The editors from various publications that I’m writing for have been incredibly kind and supportive, and they’re helping me shape a new, non-threatening idea of what it means to be a woman working in media. Freelancing comes with its stresses, but I’m now open to the possibility of a thriving career, which was a dream I had all but given up on a few years ago. I’ve stopped telling myself I don’t deserve a good life. It’s also probably time to revisit my beloved mantras. I’ll leave you with one from Oprah: “Self-esteem comes from being able to define the world in your own terms and refusing to abide by the judgments of others.”

Related: Eight Men and Women on Dating in the #MeToo Era Shitty Men, CanLit and the Legal Ramifications of the Whisper Network Why Margaret Atwood Is No Longer a Millennial Hero

The post Years Before #MeToo, Outing a Powerful Man for Bad Behaviour Nearly Ruined My Career appeared first on Flare.

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[themusicenthusiast]

Saturday, May 19th, 2018 – Unhindered by an Off Night, Josh Abbott Band Entertains the Masses at Rockwall’s Founder’s Day

The sun was beginning to disappear beyond the horizon as the 2018 Founder’s Day event in Rockwall began to near the end. It wasn’t quite over yet, though. Shooter Jennings had just gotten the masses warmed up for one of the treasures of Texas Country music, Josh Abbott Band, who had been tapped as the main headliner of the event. Free to attend, the turnout was incredible. The grounds of Harry Myers were pretty full even at six that evening, when things had first gotten started on the main stage. A couple hours later and people were packed in tight, either sitting in lawn chairs or on blankets, eagerly awaiting JAB. Introduced by a host of city officials – all of whom were elated to be welcoming the Josh Abbott Band to their stage – the country ensemble stepped out onto the stage appearing grateful to be there, all of them all smiles. The last to step into view, Abbott received the most fanfare, and he wasted no time in plainly stating what their mission was for the night. “Hey, everybody…” he began, greeting the throng of fans and onlookers, thanking them for choosing to be there. “Our goal is to have you sing along and dance. That’s what these songs are about…” he remarked, later adding he even hoped they would get some people up out of their chairs at some point. The mentality of a legitimate showman, he didn’t speak in absolutes. That happening wasn’t a definite, though what was certain from the way he articulated himself was that he and his band mates were going to do everything within their power to work to make that happen. It was respectable, to say the least.

In true Texas spirit, Abbott and company broke into a rendition of “Deep in the Heart of Texas” as they set the show in motion, playing but a snippet of it. Just enough to really appeal to the heart of a native Texan, as it acted as more of a precursor to their original material. Songs such as “My Texas”, which it set up quite nicely, especially as Abbot sang about a plethora of things that define the Lone Star State. That was one of the mainstays, a cut fans expect to hear; and in the time since I had last caught JAB, they had released two albums, 2015’s Front Row Seat and the still new Until My Voice Goes Out (out on Pretty Damn Tough Records). With so many more songs in the mix in relation to that last live experience I had, I was curious as to what kind of balance they had struck. In other words, having already had a host of songs that were viewed by fans as either favorites or signature JAB tunes, just how would they would still accommodate them while also showcasing the newer material. The answer readily became apparent: they would maintain a rip-roaring pace and squeeze as many in as possible. Unrelenting, the seven-piece outfit seldom stopped, knocking out one song and then almost instantaneously firing up the next. Spectators had only begun to applaud that previous hit when they launched into the first of several songs that focused on living in the moment and savoring life, “Live It While You Got It”. “…I got to admit, this is pretty awesome,” Abbott commented afterwards, responding to the adoration that they were being shown. Shortly after they took an actual pause as he extended his gratitude to Shooter Jennings for playing before them, promoting Jennings forthcoming new release while stating how kind he had been each time their paths had crossed. The honky-tonk sounding “Hangin' Around” further perpetuated the fun party vibe that Abbott and company were working to achieve, the cheer that seeps out of it infecting those who had left their seats and congregated at the front of the stage. The work of Preston Wait and Austin Davis, on the fiddle and banjo, respectively, sounded extra lively, making it even easier for the loyal fans to surrender to the music; though the sing along that Abbott encouraged (fans asked to sing, “I’m drinking a beer” at the choruses), never got off the ground. At least it was never fully audible. Caleb Keeter got to fully showcase his chops on the guitar during “Wasn't That Drunk”, the solo that follows the second chorus being more emotional and sizzling than what is portrayed on the album. (And it already sounds quite incredible on Front Row Seat.) Upon finishing it, the mood got more mellow and sentimental, Abbott informing everyone that the next number was his personal favorite from their new record, dedicating it not only to the love birds in attendance, but also the guys who knew they were the lucky ones. An excellent and gorgeously penned piece from Until My Voice Goes Out, “I’m Your Only Flaw” was another track that sounded even better live, the full scope of emotion invested in it being more prominent. “Texas Women, Tennessee Whiskey” was another great offering from that record. Sans the horn section that is featured on the recording it was definitely different, though it was every bit as good. It could even be argued that it was better. Still a different song by JAB standards, it serves to expand their wheelhouse, though the rendition this night was more in line with a country sound, instead of the blend of that and soul heard on the record. From there the band embarked on another series of fan favorites, their rendition of “FFA” along with “Flatland Farmer” still being a striking combination, while “I'll Sing About Mine” was the icing on the cake. Together they all crafted an accurate depiction of being a farmer and/or the small-town life, reconnecting it with reality, stealing it back from some of the pop country artists who have stolen it, singing about that life without having ever actually experienced it. The classics didn’t stop there, either. Abbott shared an anecdote from just earlier in the night, a young kid approaching him, offering up a fist pump and telling the singer, “I was born for road tripping.” For him, they dusted off “Road Trippin'”, something every fan was grateful to hear. Throughout the performance the instrumentalists demonstrated their potent chemistry. During what could be considered an interlude earlier on, the drums and bass, courtesy of Eddie Villanueva and James Hertless, were in full force, creating a dynamic yet soothing piece that segued into one of the songs. Then, once that aforementioned song was finished, it was Wait that took the spotlight momentarily, playing some striking notes on the fiddle. It was made all the more captivating once Villanueva chimed in, the pair yielding something theatrical. Without question, “The Night Is Ours” had to be the anthem for the night. Another song about savoring the moment, it summed up the collective feelings everyone had about this night, and followed by “While I'm Young”, it made for another strong pairing. One where the stories seemed to intertwine in a way. Abbott even initiated a clap along during the latter of those two, the percussion being conducive of it. That was the most vibrant the crowd had been all night, most everyone finally seeming fully engrossed by the music. Good vibes and fun times may have been abundant while Josh Abbott Band was on stage, though it wasn’t a constant, things getting quite somber when the lead musician shouted out someone special that had resided there in Rockwall and was an avid fan of theirs. A woman who had passed away the previous year, Abbott acknowledged her husband who was there, sending out what had been her favorite song to her and him. And just like that, “She's Like Texas” was cast in an entirely different light. It’s surely safe to say that it is generally perceived to be a love song, one about falling for a kind and caring soul and detailing all the things that have left the individual enamored with this woman. In a sense it still was all about that, yet it suddenly also became a song that was a celebration of life, now presumably describing the endearing qualities that will never be forgotten by this particular woman’s family. A sweet and compassionate song suddenly became more of a tearjerker, especially at the end. “She's as bright as the Dallas sky; she always holds her head up high. She loves the company of her family. She has faith in God's greater plan; she trusts that I'm a good man, and that why I'll always believe. She's like Texas, and she likes me.” Abbott added on one additional chorus, performed entirely acoustic, allowing it to make that much more of an impact. To say it was a touching and emotional moment would be an understatement; and one didn’t have to know the couple in order to feel the depth of it. Things were nearly over at that point, a couple more songs rounding out JAB’s 77-minute long set. Some people proceeded to pack up, either assuming it was over or wanting to get a jump on the traffic out of there. Most stood (or sat) steadfast, though, expecting an encore and waiting to see if it would happen or not. Sure enough, Abbott made his return to the stage, first treating everyone to a solo acoustic number before his band mates rejoined him. “Amnesia” was what they opted to close this “very fun show” with, the song reaching a climatic finish that was downright amazing. The songs and overall sound was perfect this night. The Josh Abbott Band boasts more components than a lot of groups, though Wait, Villanueva, Hertless, Keeter, Davis and keyboardist David Fralin have struck up a chemistry that outshines many others as well. Cohesive and polished, they operate exceptionally well independently and as a unit, each knowing when to standout and work to further grab the attention of the audience or hold back. That revolves around Abbott and what is necessary at the time, all being absolutely in tune with one another and what works best at the given moment. Together they know how to best play to the group of onlookers gathered before them; Abbott possessing one of the best voices in Texas Country music. Delicate and sincere when necessary, he can really belt it out as well, delving into the full power of his set of pipes, a twang ever present. Yes, they sounded in fine form this night, though the show in terms of the performance felt a little off. Perhaps they were having an off night, but it just didn’t feel as moving as a JAB show typically is. At first, I believed it was perhaps because a festival environment like this just wasn’t conducive of the full show experience. There are few venues where you’re apt to find people sitting down during a concert, and in a setting like Founder’s Day some can view the music as being an afterthought to them, something die-hard fans that would shell out money for a ticket at a standard show would never consider. At the same time, the first time I saw Josh Abbott Band I had a seat at the back of a famous honky-tonk in Fort Worth, quite removed from the action but was still left in awe over the spectacle they unleashed. That feeling was absent this night, hence why I say perhaps it was an off night for them, whatever the reasoning may be. They certainly tried hard, their work ethic being incredible as they worked to make sure everyone felt like they were part of what was going on. And overall it was an enjoyable performance, but it lacked that certain magic that is usually exuded at a Josh Abbott Band show. That’s bound to happen every now and again. They have a busy month ahead of them, quite a few Texas dates planned through June, along with a few in Oklahoma, Louisiana, Arkansas and even Colorado and Nebraska. A complete listing of their upcoming shows can be found HERE; and check out Until My Voice Goes Out in iTUNES or GOOGLE PLAY. Set List: 1) “Deep in the Heart of Texas” (partial) 2) “My Texas” 3) “Live It While You Got It” 4) “All of a Sudden” 5) “Hangin' Around” 6) “Louisiana Saturday Night” (Mel McDaniel cover) 7) “Wasn't That Drunk” 8) “I’m Your Only Flaw” 9) “Whiskey Tango Foxtrot” 10) “Girl Down in Texas” 11) “Texas Women, Tennessee Whiskey” 12) “FFA” 13) “Flatland Farmer” 14) “I'll Sing About Mine” 15) “Road Trippin'” 16) “Where's the Party” 17) “The Night Is Ours” 18) “While I'm Young” 19) “Drinkin' My Baby Goodbye” (Charlie Daniels cover) 20) “She's Like Texas” 21) “Until My Voice Goes Out” 22) “Oh, Tonight” Encore 23) “Touch” (Solo acoustic) 24) “Amnesia”