#furthest away is january

[applejongho]

hi everyone this is my 8 ft two inches (2.48m) by 5 ft three inches (1.63m) blanket. Fuck

[yearsbecomingcool]

meet the parents | daniel markowitz

donate to gaza here | masterlist

pairing | daniel markowitz x f!reader

synopsis | after 3 months of dating daniel finally introduces you to his parents and invites you to spend the eighth night of hanukkah with his family.

warnings | f!reader, jewish!reader, fluff.

word count | 4.4k

a/n | i wanna give a huge thank you to @kawaii1kitten for reading over this for me to make sure everything was accurate, it meant so much for someone to offer up their time like that and it was greatly appreciated. i got this request back at the end of january but have been incredibly busy since then (21st birthday, trying to get my license, new season of yellowjackets, writing a 7.6k word fic about jason from hell of a summer that you should all read…) but i did also take some time to research hanukkah for this fic. if anything is falsely represented or you think could be portrayed differently please let me know and i can fix any mistakes made! thank you so much for the request and hopefully it came out to your liking. also thank you to @joeloverture as always for reading over this and giving me input!!

taglist | @snazzynacho

You had been dating Danny for three months and somehow still hadn’t met his family, it wasn’t the most unusual thing in the world but you couldn’t help but feel a little suspicious. You would always hang out at your house, never at his. He always made an excuse about a messy room or someone working from home that day and you were beginning to feel a bit fed up with it. Today he was picking you up for a date, a trip to the movies. You heard his horn go off and ran outside, hopping into the passenger seat. You lean over and give him a quick peck, “You look cute today, scruffy, but cute.” You caress his cheek, looking at him lovingly.

He blushes, leaning into your touch like a cat. “So you don’t want me to shave?”

“Not yet…I’ll be generous and give you another week,” you tease, pinching the pale flesh of his cheek between your thumb and forefinger. He giggles and pulls away from you, he backs out of your driveway and starts to head towards the theater. 

You could save your questioning till after the movie, make it easier on both of you, but you’ve never been known to choose the easy route. You decide to come right out with it, “Why haven’t you introduced me to your family yet?”

He coughs nervously, “W-What?”

“Your family. You haven’t introduced me to them at all, you haven’t even brought me over to your house. We always just go to mine. There has to be a reason, so tell me Danny, what is it?”

His face grows hot and he swallows nervously. “I-It just hasn’t been the right time…they’re always busy. Y’know…I just…”

“You hardly talk about any of them besides your grandma, who sounds lovely by the way. But it just feels weird, if you have a bad relationship with them I’ll drop it but I’m just curious about your family. It feels like you’re hiding me from them and vice versa,” you explain.

He sighs, “My parents are just…a lot, okay? They still treat me like I’m a kid, hell my mom still has Life-360 installed on my phone.”

You giggle, “Were you a bad kid in high school or something?”

He laughs, “The furthest from it actually. I hardly went out, never went to parties, never did drugs. I was a good kid, my parents just…they’re intense and I know they care but they don’t really treat me like an adult yet. I didn’t want to scare you away or have you think I’m some Norman Bates mommy’s boy, I just want you to like me.”

“I already like you, dork. Do you think I’d be going out with you for three months if I didn’t like you? I’m certainly not dating you for your car.”

“But you could be dating me for my money,” he jokes.

“I’m practically your sugar mommy, mr. unemployed, I don’t wanna hear it.” 

“Okay…okay, I get it, you do actually like me. But are you sure you wanna meet my parents?”

“Yes! C’mon, let them get the embarrassing stage out of the way already. I’ll come over and bring them some nice wine and nod politely while they show me baby pictures and tell me embarrassing stories about you from your childhood. Doesn’t that sound nice?” You’re trying your hardest to convince him.

“It sounds better without them embarrassing me but I guess it could be worse…why don’t you come over for the final night of Hanukkah, it’s the one day this week where both my parents are off work so they won’t be super stressed or anything. We’re doing it at my grandmas so you’ll get to meet her too,” he suggests, finally giving in.

“I finally get to meet the famous Thelma Post you’ve been telling me about!” You celebrate.

“I’ve told her all about you too, she’s been asking when she can meet you.” He starts to poorly imitate his grandma, “Danny I’ll have one foot in the grave before you bring her over to see me!” You both burst into laughter at his imitation. “Don’t tell her I did that…please…”

You hold your pinky up, “Pinky promise.”

It’s the eighth day of Hanukkah and Daniel had come over to your place to help you cook, he insisted that you didn’t need to bring anything but you were determined to make a good impression. He’d been here for a few hours helping you make sufganiyot, normally his mom would make some but she was more than happy to leave that task up to you once you’d offered. You’d already made the filing the night before, letting it sit in the fridge for a few hours. Danny had been eyeing it as soon as he saw it in the fridge. Once you were done preparing the sufganiyot you’d piped some onto his finger, letting him finally have a taste. He sucks the cream off his finger and moans at the taste, “Fuck this is good. My mom is gonna have one bite of this and ask when I’m putting a ring on your finger, I swear.” 

“And what are you gonna tell her?” You tease, placing a hand on the counter and leaning against it, trying to look seductive.

“That I need an actual job before I can even think of walking into a jewelry store.” 

You roll your eyes and he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you into him to give you a soft kiss. He looks a bit silly, wearing the apron you’d bought him when you’d gone grocery shopping the other day. It had a stupid little slogan that made you cringe on it and you knew it’d be perfect for him. When he’d arrived you held it up for him and he rolled his eyes. “For me?” He teases, holding his hand up to his mouth. You smacked him with a dish towel. 

While you went to get cleaned up and changed for the party Danny lounged on the small couch in your living room, flicking through the channels. He was grateful the SY-FY channel was still playing shitty horror movies this time of year. He’d gotten about halfway through Sharknado when you came out into the living room ready to go. You’d done natural makeup, some soft smoked out eyeliner and some lip gloss. You were dressed casual but cute, wearing a dark blue sweater and some black jeans. Danny sits up from the couch and smiles as his eyes rake over you, “You look great.”

“You’re so sweet to me, Danny. C’mere.” You outstretch your hand to him, pulling him up from the couch and into your arms to give him a soft kiss on the cheek. He grabs the wine off the counter and you grab your tray of sufganiyot and he opens the front door for you, locking it up before opening the passenger door for you. As you sit in the car on the way to his grandma's condo your knee bounces up and down, a nervous tick that you’ve had for years. Danny notices and places his hand on your thigh.

“It’s gonna be okay, I promise. I should be freaking out more than you, I have no idea what  embarrassing shit they’re gonna tell you tonight!” 

“I really hope they have a whole scrapbook for me to look at. I wanna see every embarrassing school photo, your awkward prom pictures, your cute little baby pictures.”

He groans, “Your parents didn’t show me any of that for you though!”

You laugh, “Uh yeah because I told them I’d never come back home again if they did.”

“You’re mean.”

“I’m not mean…I just know how to get what I want.”

He narrows his eyes but keeps them on the road, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Your hands are trembling when you get to his grandma's condo, you knew you’d be nervous you just didn’t know you’d be this nervous. “Do you think they’ll like me?”

He chuckles and parks the car, “They’ll love you. You have your shit together, you’re beautiful, you’ve helped me get my shit together I’m pretty sure that’s everything they want in a woman for me.” 

“And if they somehow don’t like me?”

“Then I’m staying with you anyway, I don’t care what they think. I know they’re gonna love you and I know for a fact that my grandma is gonna love you. Before the night is over she’ll be shoving her phone in my hand and demanding I friend you on Facebook for her.” He smiles at you like you’re the only girl he’s ever loved, he means every word he says, he’s not just trying to make you feel better.

“The only approval I need is yours and Thelmas.” He laughs at your joke and leans across the console to kiss you. He cups your face gently. When you pull away he’s smiling like a schoolboy.

Your face contorts in confusion, “What?”

“I just…” He runs his hand through his hair, “I really like you. I’m happy we’re doing this.”

You feel like a lovesick teenager, “Me too.”

Daniel goes around and opens your door, bowing his head as you step out of the car. “You’re such a nerd, you know that, right?”

He smiles at you playfully, “Are you gonna bully me in front of my parents? I don’t think they’ll like that too much. My grandma especially won’t.” 

“Well shit I can’t let Thelma down…”

“Exactly, so be nice!” He kisses your cheek and leads you to the door. He knocks quickly before wrapping his arm around your shoulder. You rest your head against his shoulder as you wait for his parents to open the door. You hear rustling and suddenly the door opens. His mom is standing there with a huge smile on her face. At first glance she doesn’t look much like him, she’s got dark brown hair cut into a neat bob and light green eyes. When she smiles that’s when you see the resemblance. Her tortoiseshell glasses pair nicely with her tan sweater and brown pants. 

“It’s so good to see you two! Come in, come in!” She exclaims, moving aside for the two of you to come in. You follow Daniel inside and kick off your shoes by the door before going into the kitchen to put your sufganiyot down on the counter. There’s already a few dishes sitting out and ready to go. Latkes with a small dish of sour cream sat next to them, fried bimuelos with honey drizzled over top, and some brisket. His mom, Gail, hugs you like she’s known you her whole life. 

“Danny has told us so much about you, I was wondering when he would finally introduce you,” she says, nudging him playfully with her elbow. He looks down at the floor bashfully.

“I guess I didn’t realize everyone was so…eager to meet.”

“Well with how you talked about her we all wanted to finally see the lovely girl. How are you?” His father, Alan, comes up behind Danny and outstretches his hand to you. You shake his hand and smile politely. 

“I’m great, Danny takes the best care of me. You’ve raised a wonderful son.”

Daniel looks down blushing again, he does this every time you praise him. It’s something he’ll never get used to. 

You take a second to look around the room, her kitchen reminds you so much of your grandma’s house. The only word you can think of for it is cozy. She has an array of plants all over the kitchen, some are sat on the windowsill above the sink. A few of the bigger ones sit on a white metal shelf populated by some cutesy glassware and a couple cookbooks. You feel right at home. You grab the wine from Daniel and present it to his parents, “I wasn’t sure what kind you would like so I hope this is okay.”

They take the bottle and inspect it, “It’s perfect.”

His parents thank you and bring you into the small tv nook where Thelma is sitting comfortably on the family's couch. You marvel at the collection of books she’s collected over her lifetime. They sit cozily on her built-in shelves, a modest CRT TV sits at the center. On each side of the couch sits more bookshelves. You can imagine yourself curled up on her orange and white pinstripe couch spending your days working through her collection.  “Grandma, there’s someone I’d like for you to meet.” She turns and smiles as she sees you. She’s quick to get to her feet, walking towards you happily. “Oh honey! Finally! I thought we’d never get to meet at this rate, ah, look at you! Danny you’ve always had good taste but she’s got to be my favorite! Oh just look at her, Danny you make such a cute couple.” Now it’s your turn to blush as Thelma gushes over you. She holds your hands in hers and smiles at you warmly.

“You’re too kind…Danny has said so much about you. I think he’s been hiding me away so I don’t become your new best friend,” you joke, helping Daniel lead her to the front of the house. The house is set up a bit strangely, her main living room is quite spacious, and a bar sits behind one of the floral couches. It’s unused, now displaying various family photos. There’s even more books on more beautiful shelves, you wonder if she’s read them all.

Thelma playfully swats at Daniel's arm, “Have you been hiding her? I always could do with more friends. You know that, Danny.” You admire their menorah as it sits on a white tray on a small table in front of the window, it’s a beautiful gold color, made of brass. It was his parents' wedding gift. A blue table runner sits beneath it.

He giggles, “Can you blame me for wanting to keep her to myself?” The three of you stand together, his parents on either side. 

You watch as his father loads the candles, their matchbook sits on the tray next to the menorah. You watch as his father strikes the match and lights the shamash and begins to recite the blessings. “Baruch Atah Adonai Eloheinu Melech HaOlam, asher kidshanu b’mitzvotav v’tzivanu l’hadlik ner shel Hanukkah. Baruch Atah Adonai Eloheinu Melech HaOlam, she’asah nisim l’avoteinu, b’yamim haheim bazman hazeh.” Once he’s finished reciting the blessings he lights each candle from left to right and puts the shamash at its place in the center. It makes you think of past Hanukkah celebrations you’d spent with your family, it’s the first year you’re not spending it with them. You have a feeling you can convince Daniel to come to yours next year.

You all head to the kitchen and grab a plate and start to grab your food, you load your plate up happily.

Daniel pours you each a glass of wine, Thelma has water instead. The table is small which makes things a bit cramped but you make it work, you and Daniel sitting close enough that your elbows knock occasionally.

“Was your family alright with you missing out on celebrating with them this year?” Thelma asks as she sips from her glass.

“They understood, they’d like Danny to come to ours next year for a night. They really loved him when they met him.” Daniel squeezes your hand softly.

“Oh of course! Maybe we could all get together next year, have a little party!” She suggests.

“That sounds perfect. I’m sure they’d love to.” 

As you begin to dig into your food you look over at Gail with a sly smirk. “So…what was Danny like as a kid?”Daniel chokes on his wine, his eyes going wide. He didn’t expect you to start asking about this as soon as dinner started.

Gail smiles knowingly at Daniel, she knows just how badly she’s about to embarrass him and she’s going to cherish this moment for as long as it lasts. “Oh he was just precious. Such a sweet smiley little boy,” she takes a sip of her wine, “but he was so shy. I remember on his first day of Kindergarten he was so scared, he wouldn’t let go of my leg. Poor thing…”

“Aww Danny…I was a shy kid too. Maybe not that shy but it took me a while to grow out of it. I remember sitting at a table with a group of other shy kids in English class and we were all supposed to do some project together and I had to pull myself out of my shell for it because none of them wanted to,” you laugh.

“That sounds like Danny. Y’know there was this shy boy in his class when he was younger,” she turns to face Daniel, “Wendy Horowitz’ son, do you remember him?”

Daniel nods. He has no clue who she’s talking about.

“Anyway, he got hooked on Don Julio and he’s been in and out of rehabs ever since. Always made me worried for Danny, you never know what the quiet ones are doing…”

“Well I don’t drink much, I’ll have one if I go out somewhere nice for dinner, but I’m usually the designated driver. Danny doesn’t really have much when we go out either.”

Gail rubs Daniel on the shoulder, “Oh you’re cutting back on the drinking? Good, see Alan she’s already a good influence, only 3 months in!”

Alan smiles, “You did get him to throw out that ratty old cardigan too.”

“There were too many holes for it to be considered wearable at that point. I bought him a nice new one to replace it.”

Daniel blushes, “The new one is softer…”

“He’s always worn his clothes till they were falling apart…I’d always fix them up so he could wear his favorites a bit longer,” Thelma says.

Daniel looks at her with nothing but love in his eyes and smiles,”And thank you for that. You’re why most of my favorite sweaters are still around.” 

Gail chuckles, a memory surfacing. “Do you remember that phase you had where you would only wear your Spider-Man costume? You were like what…six? You wore it everywhere! I remember you even demanded you wear it to school under your clothes.” Daniel's face turns bright red as the rest of you giggle.

“I uh, I think I do remember that,” he scratches the back of his neck nervously.

“That’s cute. I think I did the same with some princess dress my mom had got me.” As fun as it is to watch him squirm with embarrassment you still don’t want him to get too embarrassed. 

The rest of dinner is spent with Gail telling childhood stories about Daniel, most are just cute instead of embarrassing but once dinner is wrapped up is when the embarrassment really starts. Thelma is quick to lead you to her array of childhood photos of Daniel she has on display. You pick up each one, inspecting them closely as he looms over your shoulder, face bright red with embarrassment. “Do you really have to show her the middle school ones? Those are just…they’re bad…” He groans as he pinches the bridge of his nose. 

“Oh but Danny you were so cute! Wasn’t he?” Thelma asks, turning towards you.

You giggle and smile, “The cutest.”

“See! Not embarrassing!” 

Daniel groans and puts his hands over your eyes, he leans down to whisper in your ear, “I think you’ve seen enough.” It’s playful and cute. You giggle and lean back against him.

“I think I wanna see more actually-”

He’s quick to cover your mouth with one of his hands, “She doesn’t know what she’s saying. That wine must’ve been strong, right baby?” He moves his hand from your eyes to your chin, maneuvering your head to make you nod. “See? She’s all good on childhood pictures now, Grandma.”

You lick his palm and he yelps, pulling his hand away. “Don’t listen to him! Show me the worst ones!”

Thelma is doubling over in laughter at the two of you, it reminds her of when she had met her husband. “Oh I’ve got more, sweetheart. Don’t worry.” She heads over to the bookcase to start looking for her photo albums. 

Daniel leans down to whisper in your ear so softly that no one else can hear, “You’re so getting it later. You hear me?”

You giggle, “I’m sure I am, Danny…” He loves to talk a big game but hardly ever follows through. You know it’ll end in giggles and a makeout session on your couch. 

He helps Thelma bring over the photo albums, setting them down onto the coffee table before taking a seat next to you. “You better be nice to me about these.”

“Danny how bad could they be? Don’t be so dramatic, we were all dorky when we were younger.” You rub his shoulder comfortingly. You lean against his arm as he opens the first one. The first page is his mom holding him in the hospital, his tiny footprints next to the photo make you tear up a bit.

Thelma tells a small story with each photo, “He was such a smiley baby. The happiest in the family. I remember Gail called me one time to ask if it was normal for a baby to be so happy all the time,” she laughs, “she’s always been such a worrier…”

“You were adorable Danny, your smile is the same now y’know.”

He leans his head against yours, “Some things never change I guess.”

“I’m glad you’ve still got that sweet smile and all those beauty marks.”

He smiles and presses a kiss to your forehead as you continue to look through the photo albums. His face heats up with embarrassment as they reach the elementary school photos. He’s wearing silly graphic tees and missing teeth, new ones growing back into place. There’s photos of him playing video games, kindergarten and 5th grade graduations. Photos of him with childhood friends and peers, most of the names he can’t remember but he has a story for almost all of them. “He had a pet lizard! I begged my parents, and Grandma of course,” he nudges Thelma with his elbow, “for one too. But when I actually went over to his house and saw it in person it scared me so bad I never asked for another pet again!”

“What kind of lizard was it?” You ask curiously. 

“A bearded one, like that dinosaur in Jurassic Park that ate Nedry.”

Your eyes light up, “Ah! I can see why you’d be terrified now.”

He blushes bright red with embarrassment once the middle school pictures start coming up, awkward phases, bad haircuts, and plenty of embarrassing stories. It’s an awful time for everyone but it seemed particularly cringe inducing for Daniel. You and Thelma stifle laughter as he tries to defend his magician phase with his life.

“The girls were into it I swear!”

“Thelma, did you tell him that to make him feel better?” You ask, leaning forward to see her.

“I think I did…”

Daniel dramatically scoffs, feigning offense at her confession.

“Did you like try to pull a flower out from behind a girl's ear?” You joke.

His cheeks turn pink, “I-I…no…”

He’s a little less defensive over his high school photos, you can see him finding his style in every photo. He’s switched out his silly graphic tees for band t-shirts and cardigans, his cargo shorts for skinny jeans. It’s interesting to watch him figure out who he is through photos. You smile at the photos of him at concerts on his tiptoes trying to peer over the shoulders of the people in front of him. There’s ticket stubs from his favorites glued down next to the photos of him at each one. You can tell you would’ve been friends in high school, probably more considering how you ended up. He was your type to a tee. You could imagine asking him out to see whatever indie movie was playing at your local theatre, him slipping his headphones on you in a diner afterwards to show you his new favorite band. You feel a pang of sadness that you didn’t know him back then. You’re grateful to have him now. You cuddle up a bit closer to him as he gets to the final picture, it’s him on graduation day. His hair was grown out and combed back under his graduation cap. His favorite is the shot of Thelma and him together. He has his arm slung over his shoulder as he holds her close.

“Why don’t we take one of you two to add to the album?” Thelma suggests.

You smile and look at Daniel, trying to see how he feels. He’s smiling just as big as you are and he nods, getting up from the couch. “Where’s the camera?”

“It’s in my office on my desk, right by the computer,” Thelma explains. Once he’s walked off to retrieve the camera she leans close to you, taking your hand in hers. “You’re my favorite of the girls he’s ever brought over. Thank you for being so good to him…I think you’re what he needs.”

You feel tears begin to well up in your eyes, your lip quivering. You reach up to wipe your tears and nod, “I think he’s what I need to.” Thelma leans forward and hugs you tight, you pull away with Daniel comes back with the camera.

“Should I call dad to come take it?” He asks Thelma.

“Oh no, dear. This is the one technology I know how to use!” She gets up from the couch and takes the camera from Daniel, directing him to sit next to you. She continues directing the two of you, telling you how to pose. “Danny at least try to look like you love her! You’re so stiff!”

He chuckles and tries to relax, pulling you closer to him. You’re leaned against him, your head on his shoulder as he holds you close. You glance up at him for a second and hear the camera go off. “Oh, I wasn’t ready!”

Thelma smiles down at the photo, turning the camera back around for the two of you to look. It’s instantly your new favorite photo of the two of you. You’re cuddled up, gazing into each other's eyes. “I think it’s perfect, dear.”

[lulublack90]

Prompt 17 - Difficulty

@jegulus-microfic January 17, Word count 523

Previous part First part

Sneaking back into Gryffindor Tower was far easier than the last time, as most of the Gryffindors had gone up to bed. He paused at the bottom of the spiral staircase. Was he really going to do this? If he did, his relationship with James would mean something. Could he trust his brother not to tell their mother out of spite? 

“He won’t do anything bad, I promise,” James said reassuringly. “He might have a record-breaking strop, but he won’t do anything to hurt either of us,”

With difficulty, Regulus managed to get his feet moving again as he slowly walked up the stairs. 

Once they were at the right dorm, James pushed the door open to be greeted by a moan. “Oh, shit!” James pulled his wand out and pointed it at Remus’s bed. “Sonorus!” He cast quickly. “No, no, no, that’s not the one I meant!” He cried out as he tried to remedy his mistake. But it was too late.

“OH, REMUS. OH, OH, OH… FUUUUUUCK!!!” Sirius’s amplified voice filled the entire room with the sounds of his moans and heavy breathing.

Regulus felt like his ears were bleeding. He was too stunned to react. James finally managed to remove the voice-amplifying charm and cast the silencing charm he’d meant to cast.

“I am so sorry,” He said, spinning to face Regulus, his face white and his hand holding onto Regulus’s tightly as if he was afraid Regulus was about to run, which was probably a good reading of Regulus as he was seconds away from running out of the dormitory. 

Regulus closed his eyes and breathed. He needed a moment to wrap that memory in Fiendfyre and destroy it from his memory. Once he was happy that he would be able to sleep, he nodded to James, signalling that they could go to bed now. 

James took him over to the bed furthest from the door. He opened his trunk and took out a T-shirt. He handed it to Regulus, and Regulus held it up to himself. It went down to his knees, but it smelled like James, and he hurriedly put it on. He pulled the super-soft material to his nose and sniffed. It spelt so good. He felt a wave of calm wash over him. He climbed into James’s bed. James followed him and pulled the curtains closed. They settled down, curled up together in the too-small bed and fell asleep. Regulus only woke up once when he realised that his brother was sleeping with another boy just like he was. Damn, copycat.    

Next part

[ilovetoxicfictionalmen]

RUNAWAY FROM ME - CHAPTER 2

Pairing - Tommy Shelby x oc

Summary - Deirdre ran from her life of misery for her own safety. However, she managed to run back into the arms of an angel she once knew, now known as The Peaky Blinder Devil. In which he has no intentions of letting her run away from him again.

Warnings - Dark content, non con, dub con, explicit themes, lovers to enemies to lovers, slow burn kinda, Tommy needs a hug.

Word count - 4.7k

The Garrison, Small Heath - Evening, January 20th 1915

Drunk, filthy, vain. That was Deirdre’s code for her carefully picked victims of her acts of deviance. Never the good, poor and innocent. Not that there were many of those around here in a town like this. 

Of all places to end up, she found her tired feet in the dust, muck and filth grounds of Small Heath. In between the brick walls of the city of fire, brimstone and smoke. A town in which all men had a life long sentence of being trapped in the working class. No thoughts and dreams in their futures, only merely hoping to make it to the next day. 

Deirdre was far from home. The furthest she had ever made it. It was a shock, wandering this far after many failed attempts. But her future entity being locked to a filthy man over twice her age pushed her to run. The window was quickly closing, Deirdre had to flee before she was trapped to another savage. 

Her home was a palace in comparison to here. The life that many would dream of replacing her absence in. But regardless of it all, she preferred Small Heath over being trapped between rough hands in Dublin. 

None of her father’s men would ever suspect her to end up in a place like this, she was free. Living day to day, nights slept in a ramshackled home felt far more secure than sleeping in a comfortable bed, underneath the roof of the man that abused her daily. 

It was another typical day of work. Here she was, sitting by the bar, accompanied by a drunken bastard whose hands got too touchy too quickly. Just a few more minutes, she’d let him finish his drink and then slide her small hands into the pockets. Always hoping for more than she’d actually grab. 

Deirdre did this a lot, she didn’t have any options for work. She had no papers, no identity, no proof of her existence. All she had was the two dresses she took with her and the pretty face that many desired. She’d pop into a random pub, she had to keep her appearances cautious. It was questioning how she’d been surviving off this for weeks now. But many men would give her a shilling just to smile at them. These were times of mayhem and anguish.

Most women would sell their bodies, a man’s shilling was far more valuable than their reputation in a town like this. There was no blame in it, but Deirdre refused to drop her innocence for anyone. Because in the back of her head, she heard her father’s gruesome threats if she ever committed such an act. It was traumatic, replaying those menacing memories. 

Tonight was a bad choice. Deirdre felt her heart thud against her chest as the older man’s hands roughly gripped onto her slim waist. It was as if he knew her ploy. Deirdre tried not to pull attention, her hands pushed against his, but it made no difference. 

“Sweetheart, going shy on me now aye?” the man grinned, a front tooth missing, the rest yellow. Before she could say a word, a man approached them.  

“Oi” a strong, intimidating voice boomed as his hand clamped over the man’s shoulder, it bent under his hold. The man turned his back to look at the younger man. He snarled and shoved his hold off of him. 

Deirdre had seen him, only one or twice here, in Small Heath. He had a shorter height than most, a small frame underneath his thick coat, but his eyes were captivating. His soft pale skin outlined his jawline. A slight undercut of his brunette hair. For a working man, he was beautiful. Deirdre had forced herself away from watching him in the swift glance. 

“Leave the poor girl alone, would ya?” The stranger threatened in an intimidatingly kind manner. His Birmingham accent was thick yet as smooth as velvet. 

“Who the fuck are you to-” the man paused, his blurred vision clearing as he stared into his blue orbs. The drunk’s sight flicked over to the table in the corner, the men in peaked caps watched him. With a snort, the man finished his drink and stormed out of the pub. 

Deirdre gulped to herself as she kept her sight low. She heard whispers of the men in the peaked caps. They swarmed at the opportunity of the war to build society as their own. Without a word, she slipped off of the barstool and went to turn her heel towards the door. 

“No” the blue eyed man opposed, his arm shooting out to gently grab ahold of her forearm. “Stay for a drink, my offer” he grinned softly as he turned his attention back to the barman. Deirdre was lost for words, simply nodded in agreement as he ordered two glasses of whisky. 

“I’ve seen you around here a couple of times. Always by yourself, your hands tend to slip into men’s dirty pockets and you’re gone” he chuckled as he slid a glass towards her. 

Deirdre laughed, she had been caught out. Finally, she’d be paying the price for her crimes. But he merely laughed lightly at her acts and took a sip of his drink. 

“What’s your name?” He asked as he sat on the bar stool and gestured for her to do the same. 

“Deirdre” she answered without thinking, she’d never told anyone her name out of caution. The paranoia was setting like paint on her skin. 

“Deirdre… The name of the broken-hearted, sorrowful and the wanderers” he nodded to himself, those piercing blue eyes of his lingered over her features as she slowly climbed onto the seat. 

She couldn’t help but to gently laugh at the accuracy. But he didn’t know that, he didn't know anything about her. No one around here did. 

“How old are ya?” He continued his questions and consumption of his drink. 

“Eighteen years old, sir” she nodded, her fingers traced the rim of the glass. 

“Thomas, but everyone calls me Tommy” he corrected with a gentle smile. A soft smile grew on her lips as she finally took a sip. “Where are you from?”

“Galway” she lied, a short nod. Her eyes struggled to remain still. 

“Is it green over there?” He hummed. 

“Very” she replied shortly. 

Tommy bobbed his head to her. “Come, sit with me mates. It’ll be more comfortable there” he suggested, or ordered. Deirdre couldn’t exactly tell.

But she knew that her stay was over welcomed, and all she wanted to do was disappear again. She knows the lifestyle of gangsters, traumatized by the brutal actions that can snap out of nowhere. Deirdre would be damned if she allowed herself into that again, even for a night. 

“It’s alright, I was thinking of leaving anyway. Thank you for the drink” she opposed, pushing the half full glass away from her. 

“No, no. We will have another after this one” he said in a determined and decided tone as he pushed the glass back towards her.

“I must reject your kind offer” she sighed softly. 

“I ain’t going to do anything to ya if that’s what you believe. I swear on my family’s name” Tommy swore, holding his hand over his heart. 

They did, have another after another. She sat squished between Tommy and another, his older brother Arthur. The table was surrounded by peaked caps, the room echoing the cheers and disputes between the men. Tommy watched her as she sipped on her liquor. None of the others dared to say more than a couple of words to her. 

His arm wrapped around her waist, her guard was down and she relaxed into his hold surprisingly. Deirdre had never drunk, her father would allow a modest woman to act in such a way in his house. The effects came onto her quickly for she had hardly eaten in days. Her head swayed lightly, cheeks reddened and an innocent smile on her lips. With one last swig, Tommy finished his drink and it clinked on the wooden top.  

“So, are you going to tell me? What brought you deep in the grime streets of Small Heath?” He questioned through a whisper, his mouth pressed against her ear. 

Deirdre chuckled lightly, this question was bound to come up. “Change of scenery” she answered calmly. 

“A runaway huh?” Tommy laughed, his fingers brushing over hers. “I know one when I see one” he stated.

It felt nice, a bit too nice for her. It was unfamiliar and it made her anxious, waiting for the punch line or the trap to be triggered. She never knew physical touch could feel so lovely, so calming, so affectionate. 

“Yeah you caught me” she breathed out, almost ready to wave the flag of surrender, prepared for her father to walk in at any moment.

He could see the trouble in her eyes, the despair, how badly she wanted to forget her past. There was no denying the connection he felt to that, how badly he felt the urge to help her overlook those thoughts. 

“Well, no one will find you here. Nobody suspects Small Heath as a new beginning. It’s a cursed city where men are punished with working their lives away. But I intend to change that for my family, I will end our line of despair. Put our family name in the good” Tommy promised, his eyes glancing over at his brothers in the room. 

Deirdre smiled at him, she admired his ambition. Many working men were cold and broken. But him, it seemed that his eyes were wide open to his calling, to charge at what was rightfully his. Or, maybe he was just so desperate to chase after a kingdom to free his mind of anguish. 

“Well, I’ll walk you home” Tommy said as they slowly walked out of The Garrison. 

A wave of embarrassment of him seeing the dump she confined herself in crashed over her. It didn’t matter how drunk she was, what would he think of her? Even worse, what could he do? 

“No Tommy, it’s alright” she protested, her hands raised in fear. 

His expression was stern as he slowly shook his head to her. Many men were still wandering the dark, minacious streets of Small Heath. Best believe Tommy would not allow her to walk those dangerous grounds. 

“Nonsense, a woman needs to be cautious. Especially in these streets” he objected, his tone dripping of order. 

“Please, I must-” she sighed, lowering her head in defeat and embarrassment. 

“Do you have a place to call home?” He cocked an eyebrow to her. 

“Not really” she mumbled. 

“How long do you intend to stay in Small Heath for? Better yet, how long have you been here for?” Tommy crossed his arms over his chest, leaning towards her. 

Deirdre scratched the back of her head uneasily. 

“I, I don’t know” she answered. Tommy slid off his coat and laid it over her shoulders. 

“Alright, come with me” he encouraged, gently holding onto her hand. 

They walked silently, her body leaning towards him whenever she saw people walking nearby. But they all remained away from him, the infamous man in the peaked cap.

They stopped in front of a door, the porchlight off. Tommy opened the door slowly and looked down to her. 

“Tommy?” Deirdre asked timidly. 

“Come in” he said quietly. 

With her silent protest failing, he led her into the dark building, and they went straight upstairs. The door creaked open and Deirdre stared at the unmade single bed illuminated in the moonlight. 

“This is my room” he made known. 

There was no shame in the size or state of his room in his tone. Tommy Shelby was still a working man after all, he had to make do with what he had. 

All was heard as a small exhale from her lips. Slowly, she looked up to him with doe eyes. 

“Uh, Tommy I don’t know” she spoke, her nerves stabbing at her skin. 

“Shh, it’s okay. I’m merely offering you somewhere more comfortable to sleep. I’ll sleep on the floor, or I can sleep in the kitchen if that makes you more comfortable” he offered as he slid the coat off of her shoulders. 

“No have your bed, I can’t accept your generosity” she shook her head. 

Tommy chuckled at her demeanor and leant closer to her. Gently, he took her hands into his as he tilted his head towards her. 

“How about we share the bed?” Tommy suggested. Through the dark, Tommy could still see her eyes widen and heard her lightly gasp. “You’re so shy” he chuckled as he moved slightly closer to her and brushed her hair to the side. “I don’t expect to have sex with you tonight, if that makes you feel better” he assured her kindly. 

Of course that was the first thought that crossed Deidre’s mind. It passed through the moment he told her to stay for a drink. In the back of her mind, she felt her father hold a knife to her back for even thinking of such a thing. But he wasn’t here, Deirdre needed to keep on reminding herself of that. 

Deirdre stiffly nodded and Tommy slowly led her to the bed. They both laid stiffly on the bed. Complete silence, except for Deirdre’s heavy breathing and rapidly heartbeat. Tommy looked down at her and sighed. 

“Let’s get more comfortable, eh?” Tommy told her as he shifted his body to the side

They turned around on the small mattress, his arms wrapped around her timid body and held her close underneath the thin sheets. Quickly, her stiff frame softened against his hold, a feeling she had never felt before, or at least remembered. Their bodies molded as one as she finally drifted off into a comfortable sleep. 

Eden Club, Soho - Night, 23rd July 1924

“You’ve been in my dreams, my love. Have I been in yours?” Tommy tilted his head, gun still pointed to hers as she slowly stood up and leaned against the desk in defeat. 

The tension was as clear as day, they both listened to each other's breathing as she slowly batted her eyes to the familiar stranger. All Deirdre could do was laugh at her predicament. There were no cards she could lay down. All options exhausted for the time being. Unless, she could get her hands on that pistol. 

“How are you Tommy?” Deirdre inquired, raising an eyebrow to him, her body leaning back over the desk as her eyes looked him up and down slowly. He set the pistol back into his holster and took one last inhale before flicking the stick away. 

Time had certainly changed him, despite his beauty remaining the same. It was beginning to age like the finest bottle of whisky. The softness of his skin had roughened. Those perfect blue eyes have darkened whilst his jawline grew sharper. He was a lot more built now, an old part of Deirdre tortured her mind to wonder what he looked like underneath. 

“I’m spectacular now, such a lovely surprise for you to visit me at my club of all places” Tommy smiled wickedly as he shuffled closer towards her.

His hands planted on the desk around her hips as he looked down to her, his mouth ajar open. It wasn’t known by either of them if he was trying to intimidate her or seduce her at that moment. Deirdre batted her lashes once more and went doe eyed to him. 

“Did you miss me Tommy?” Deirdre asked softly, as her body drew closer to his. 

“A part of me hoped you were dead” he admitted without hesitation, his hands resting on her smooth hips now. 

“That’s sweet” Deirdre bobbed her head, her teeth biting on her inner lips. 

Tommy’s hand rubbing gently against her cheek. A wave of remembrance of her beauty crashed over him. After all of these years, all he had was his memory of her. Her maturity aged like fine wine, and Tommy was currently resisting the urge to taste her. He miscalculated his belief that his urges would be restrained by his anger. 

The only card that has deemed relevance was to seduce him, tempt him, fuck him. The old Deirdre would never demean her body like this. But the world against her had turned her desperate. Her legs spreaded as she slowly lifted her body onto the desk. His body molded to hers as he pressed his crotch against hers. There was a few inch distance between their lips, she could smell the whisky on his breath and he could smell the gin on hers. 

“So, are you going to fuck me with your eyes or your cock?” Deirdre cocked an eyebrow to him. 

“Trying to fucking seduce me” Tommy huffed as his hand slipped around her throat. Gently he tested how firmly he could squeeze her skin before she reacted.  

“Would you rather I scream for mercy?” Deirdre shot back, a cheeky grin plastered on her. 

A firm warning squeeze was fired by his hand, Tommy’s head tilted as he gently shrugged his shoulders to her. 

“It doesn’t matter, it’s all the same” he spoke slowly. 

“Which is?” She asked.  

“You won’t run away again, you’re staying with me” he spoke firmly, nodding his head at the plan which was building in his mind. Deirdre couldn’t help but to pout towards him and softly shake her head at that idea. 

Of course he was holding onto the past. Thomas Shelby was always holding onto it, even though he pretended he didn’t care about anything. He couldn’t help himself, these things kept him awake at night, consumed his dreams and tried to bring down his ambition. 

“That’s so boring Thomas, for the both of us” she sighed. 

“That’s marriage” he countered. Deirdre responded back swiftly, a bit too without thought. 

“Where’s your honor to your dead wife?” she spat, irritated with his arrogance. 

Deirdre choked out as his hand tightened roughly around her neck. His free hand held her back in place as she tried to thrash in his hold. Even though her fingers were trying to claw underneath his, they wouldn’t budge. 

“Have some fucking respect” he spat by her ear before abruptly letting go. “Should have been you anyways” he snarled as he stepped back and spun around.

Tommy cursed to himself as he felt his erection in his pants. Shaking his head firmly, he blinked away the idea of her and brushed his hand through his hair. When he turned back around to her, Deidre was staring at the ground. Tommy opened his mouth to speak when there was a heavy knock on the door.

The door swung open with Arthur on the other side. “Tommy! She’s not fucking-” Arthur paused as he stared blankly at Deirdre. “Ah! Deirdre!” Arthur exclaimed as he rushed over to her and hugged her tightly. 

A heavy exhale left Deidre’s lips as she embraced Arthur, her arms instinctively wrapped around him for security. Tommy frowned at the sight before him, especially with how Deidre’s eyes shut with ease. Quickly his blood began to boil again. 

“Arthur get out” Tommy ordered, his jaw clenched, his hands on his hips.  

“Oh Deirdre!” John boomed as he entered the room, her belongings in hand as he strided over to them. “Your purse Deirdre” John offered the bag to Deirdre but Tommy snatched it so Deirdre could even reach out for it. 

Quickly, Tommy’s hand scrambled through the small bag and he tutted to Deirdre at the small vial he discovered. “Still up to your old games…” Tommy commented as he slipped the vial back in. 

With a heavy breath, she hugged John tightly, he hummed against her as he patted her back to reassure her. She had forgotten how badly she missed them. It was shocking to see how they were still the same men from before the war. For once, she felt a brief sensation of relief to see the brothers that she adored dearly. 

A dramatic sigh left Tommy’s lips as he slammed her purse onto the desk. “Ah, no papers yet again. No identity for Miss Deirdre” Tommy mocked, his teeth gritted as he stepped closer to her. 

Deirdre looked up to him as he returned in between her thighs. Those cold paws of his rested on her waist as his eyes analyzed every inch of her body. 

“Get out, I’m still talking to my wife” Tommy demanded, his blue eyes shooting from brother to brother. Arthur muttered whilst John remained silent, a stern expression locked on as he lit a fresh cigarette. 

“Tommy, it’s roaring out there. How about we all just enjoy the night how we intended to. Then tomorrow, we can-”

“Get the car ready” Tommy cut Arthur off. 

John frowned and leant forward, his arms crossed over his chest. 

“The car?” John butted in, his light hanging from his lip. 

“Yes John, the car” Tommy spoke dumbfoundedly. “We are returning to Arrow House immediately” he disclosed as he tugged Deirdre to her feet. 

John moaned out dramatically as he shook his head at Tommy’s desires. 

“Oh Tommy, you can’t be serious!” John argued. “This is our last fookin night!” He hissed, shaking his head in disbelief. 

“I won’t repeat myself” Tommy spoke firmly as John huffed in annoyance. 

John stood closely to Tommy, his lips near his ears. 

“Fuck off… I won’t be involved with anymore family affairs tonight” John whispered before abruptly leaving the room. 

Arthur gulped as his eyes darted from Tommy to the open door. Whilst Tommy stood expressionless as his eyes slowly moved to Deirdre’s. Arthur began to stammer as he awkwardly stood before the pair. 

“Go make sure he doesn’t do anything reckless. I’ll see you both back tomorrow” Tommy finalized as he harshly tightened his hold onto Deirdre’s arm and pulled her towards the exit.

Deirdre latched out for her coat and purse quickly as Tommy strided into the hall. A worker stood there with Tommy’s coat and cap. A firm finger pointed to Deirdre in warning as he slid on his coat and peaked cap, his eyes not even shifted an inch off of her. She kept her head low as they exited through the back door into an isolated dark alley, his hand still tight on her bicep.

Her eyes shot to the light to her left and she gulped at the sight of countless bystanders continuing on with their night. Unknowingly, she slowed in her steps, causing Tommy to frown and look back to her. A snort came from Tommy as he shook his head and leant close to her ear.  

“Don’t be foolish, my love” he warned as he tugged her into the darkness. 

Tommy opened the passenger door to his Bently and pushed Deirdre in. As he slammed the door, he again raised his finger in warning before he hurried over to the other side. Another cigarette was lit as Tommy turned on the engine. 

“Will you let me grab my belongings?” Deirdre spoke quietly, her head pointed out the window. 

Tommy’s head snapped towards her. 

“What fucking valuables could you possibly have” he commented, his tone dripping with irritation. 

“Please Tommy” she pleaded, her eyes glistening in the moonlight. 

Tommy muttered, wagging his head to her. When his eyes snapped to hers, he exhaled at her doe eyes accompanied by her anxious hands fiddling together. 

“It better be on the way” he grunted to her. 

As he parked the car outside of the hotel, Tommy was quick to jump out before her. His hand held onto the handle firmly as he yanked the door open for her. Deirdre muttered her gratitude as she slipped out of the car. 

Likewise to a prisoner, Tommy escorted her up to her room. With a shaking hold, Deirdre slid the key into the lock and opened her room. When she tried to slip into the room alone, his foot wedged between the door and frame. 

“Can I not have a moment of privacy” she pressed, muttering curses to herself shortly after. 

Deirdre let go of the door and walked away from Tommy. The door creaked shut as Tommy continued to watch her like a hawk

“You will not run from me again Deirdre…” Tommy reminded her through a cold glare whilst slipping out a cigarette. 

“We’re on the third floor” Deirdre countered with scrunched eyebrows. 

“You have your ways” Tommy murmured as he brushed the end in between his lips before lighting it. 

Tommy’s eyes lingered over the cheap room, his hands firmly on his hips as Deirdre quickly tried to pack up her belongings. Right as she was going to zip up the bag, Tommy nudged her out of the way and pulled it wide open. 

“Oh Thomas… You’re so immature” Deirdre bickered, her arms crossed over her chest as she huffed to him. 

The only response she got was a huff as his hands rambled through her clothing. Until he stopped when he felt something firm. Tommy frowned as he pulled it out, hidden in one of her dresses. Slowly, he lifted up a small piece of silver to her. To his surprise, her back was turned towards him. 

“Do you have a child Deirdre?” Tommy cocked an eyebrow to her as he dangled the shining rattle at her. The sound from the toy teased her, he knew it. 

“No” she swallowed, her throat instantly feeling like it was closing in on her. 

“Fucking liar” Tommy snarled as he dropped it back into the bag. 

“I don’t” Deirdre snapped back as her body spun back to him. 

“Sure” Tommy smirked. 

He watched the fire light inside of her as she walked up to him. It was amusing to him, seeing how she walked on a tightrope of emotions. 

“I don’t Thomas” she spoke firmly, her tone sending a warning to him. 

“Alright…” Tommy spoke quietly as he watched her body unknowingly begin to shake. The rattle fell into the bag as Tommy zipped it up. 

Without another word, Tommy led her back to the car. As if they were on a tight schedule, Tommy sped off down the quiet roads. When they were far from the city, the only sources of light being the headlights and moon, Deirdre looked over to him. 

“Where are you taking me Thomas?” She asked. 

It was ignored by him as his hands tightened on the wheel. 

Deirdre rolled her eyes and rested her head against the window. Slowly she fell into an uneasy sleep. 

She dreamt of her husband. Using his belt on her yet again. At this point, Deirdre laid hopelessly on the tiled flooring as he spat out every cruel word from the book to her. She was crying out, begging for mercy, her hands clenched to her stomach.

When she looked down, she screamed at the sight of blood pooled at her legs. Her body trembled, her temperature low as her eyes darted around for her husband. But he was gone. As she looked up, she saw Tommy, watching her with an emotionless face. 

Deirdre called out his name, begged him to help her. But her words were falling silent, her throat tight as she reached out for him. When she tried to crawl to him, her body ached and she fell back onto the tiling. Keeping her hand out in one last attempt of mercy, Tommy took a step back, gradually being consumed by darkness. 

“Deirdre” Tommy whispered. 

Faintly, the back of his hand brushed over her cold cheek. Deirdre mumbled out, but remained asleep against the side of the door. 

“Deirdre, my love… Wake up” Tommy urged, speaking more forcefully now. His hand tapped her cheeks until her tired eyes fluttered open. 

The remembrance of her situation pressed back onto her mind. Deirdre yawned out as she looked out to the mansion, lit majestically in the night sky. Tommy slid closer to her, his lips pressed to her ear as they both looked out. 

“Welcome home, my love” Tommy spoke faintly as she took in her new prison.

[conscbgb]

if after this they either do or dont get a break im toying with whether i should purchase a ticket i enjoyed their previous tour very much and had a pleasant experience at the arena even if i was seated far away from them but learning that they havent had much of a break between this next tour and their previous tour has somewhat left a bitter taste in my mouth.

i could easily choose to skip it if i desire not to allow the agency to gain more from it but then if they do indeed add europe not long after this north american tour might it be a one off chance that i'll not get to see them sometime after? i dont think i'll do standing either this time, i was under the impression it wouldve been 2026 before they come back here IF they were to even get good reception and enjoyed coming here but if not then i really dont know what to do abt it? i wanted to go and see skz but they only add one date at one venue and its possibly the furthest away venue for me to get too so that i skipped out on even tho i can afford the trip there and back its just no worth it unless there is indeed a concert nearby. either way they seem to enjoy coming abroad more than performing in korea.

I think that's a very personal kind of choice and you are allowed to act about it based on your gut feelings and I understand where those sensations are coming from...Honestly speaking I don't like the whole kpop industry/business/way of life that is imposed to the artists, even if KQ is one of the best companies in managing them. I was able to see them live for the first time in january and it was really a beautiful experience, the whole concert/performances were great! If they would come back in Europe next winter or in the beginning of 2026 I'd go again because as you said there's the possibility of that being the last time we can see them before their enlistment 🙈 I don't have the "problem" of choosing between which groups to go to see because I actively follow only ATEEZ and NCT 127 in the kpop scene and SM won't never take NCT 127 touring in Europe so 😬

I think they enjoy both: Korea is their country, where it all started, the first support was from ktinys...BUT the reactions they have during concerts around the World is SO satisfying for them!! The support too (they are more considered outside Korea atm) I think they really appreciate that side of touring outside of their home country

[mattnben-bennmatt]

Matt Damon's interview w/ The Advocate (18 January 2000)

[During promotion for The Talented Mr. Ripley, Matt Damon gives an interview to LGBT magazine The Advocate. He discusses his approach to playing Tom Ripley, same-sex relationships, and the scrutiny around his friendship with Ben Affleck. I first came across excerpts from this fascinating interview when browsing the Damon Affleck Slash Archive using the Internet Archive's WayBack Machine, but my gratitude goes to @kampedupkinks-blog for pointing me toward the full issue. Full transcription under the cut.]

Going to the Matt

Gay people, characters, and subjects are nothing new to Oscar winner Matt Damon. Here's his whole unexpected attitude on it all.

By Brendan Lemon

As the title character in the luxurious, homoerotic new movie The Talented Mr. Ripley, Matt Damon is obsessed with trying on a rich friend's clothing, looking for the right well-tailored suit to reflect his evolving view of himself. Ever since the Boston buddy picture Good Will Hunting won him a screen-writing Oscar and established him as a movie star two years ago, the actor has been redefining his own identity too.

Measuring this metamorphosis is a challenge, partly because the 29-year-old actor is still pondering just how to use the public voice that his fame has provided and partly because his celebrity's outward clues can be a little misleading. For example, he may have just bought a gargantuan—7,000 square feet—apartment in downtown Manhattan, but you sense he wants to make it a home rather than a showplace. And he may go out with another movie star (Winona Ryder), but, refreshingly, the two so rarely make the scene that they seem the furthest thing from a young Hollywood power couple.

The performer talked about both his life and gay-related issues raised by his new movie during a conversation one recent afternoon not far from his New York City home, a discussion in which he displayed his Harvard-caliber intelligence (he dropped out of that university to act, not because his grades weren't good), an attractive blend of sensitivity and seriousness, and the kind of genuine politeness that makes you want to meet, and thank, his mother.

While Damon upbringing has made him highly skeptical of celebrity, he is not about to turn the spotlight away from himself. "Matt is not the sort of actor who refuses to talk about his movies because he doesn't want to talk about his life," said Anthony Minghella, the director and screenwriter of The Talented Mr. Ripley. "In fact, one of the things that distinguishes him as both an actor and a person is that he doesn't duck the moment." Case in point: In the new movie's hottest scene, Damon's Tom Ripley looks lustfully at his friend Dickie Greenleaf (Jude Law) as he emerges from the bath. "Matt didn't ever try to wink at the audience while we were filming that, to distinguish himself from the character," Minghella said. To which Damon replies: "That would have been ridiculous. Ripley at that point was so bubbling over with desire."

Damon sees the homoeroticism of his latest character as an acting assignment, but his matter-of-fact approach to it has roots in his own life. "I grew up in a community house in Cambridge, Mass.," Damon said, "and a number of people who lived there were gay." Respect for difference wasn't the house's only core value; so was hard work a quality for which Damon is still known. "Matt won't always admit the rigor with which he approaches his roles," Minghella said, mentioning that for Ripley the actor learned to play the piano. "I sort of learned," Damon clarified, "just like I sort of learned to sing." The modesty is misplaced: In the movie the actor's wonderful rendition of "My Funny Valentine," aimed at an oblivious, sax-playing Greenleaf, stands as a clear, lonely lament recognizable to anyone—straight or gay—who's known the pain of unrequited love.

Don't expect Damon, however, to star any time soon in a revival of Babes in Arms, and certainly not with lifelong buddy Ben Affleck. The two remain call-each-other-at-all-hours close and make periodic noises about finishing that next screenplay, but any discussion about their friendship strikes Affleck, according to Damon, as "weak." Their bond, of course, still causes some people to regard them as more than pals. In this interview Damon addresses the subject head-on, while admitting that "the speculation isn't quite as much fun as it used to be."

But Damon, whose habit of answering virtually any question directly is reminiscent of Tom Hanks, with whom he had a memorable battle-jitters scene in Saving Private Ryan, mostly wanted to talk about sexuality because of his participation in The Talented Mr. Ripley. The movie which Minghella adapted from a 1955 novel by Patricia Highsmith (the first in a series), tells the story of the aforementioned Ripley and Greenleaf, two young Americans at play in late-1950s Italy. The secretive, hollowed-out Ripley is a consummate social strive. Unlike the wealthy, golden-haired Greenleaf, Ripley is to the manner—but not to the manor—born. In his quest for class he aspires to absorb everything about his friend: not just his clothing and his possessions but his pampered way of life.

But Greenleaf, involved with another young American, Marge Sherwood, treats Ripley disposably. Amused by Ripley's conversational talents and touched by his love of music, Greenleaf takes him along on high-spirited jaunts up and down the Italian peninsula, a series of sunlit, mostly seaside locations that the film caught sumptuously on location. But when Greenleaf tires of his visitor and attempts to toss him off, Ripley reacts tragically. "Maybe no one who sees the movie will agree with me," Damon said, "but as the one who played the character, I thought, This is so unfair. This person deserved better. He was so close to knowing happiness with another man."

In the hands of Highsmith, a lesbian expatriate who like many American writers—Vidal, Baldwin, Williams—came to Europe partly to escape the stifling sexual orthodoxy of postwar America, Ripley is a figure of great fascination but little empathy. Following him as he assumes Greenleaf's personality and attempts to elude his pursuers after the murder is a riveting yet slightly chilly exercise. "We wanted to make Ripley more human than Highsmith did," Damon said. To that end, Minghella pointed out, the character does not, as in the novel, plan to kill Greenleaf but, rather, lashes out at him when he confesses his love and is rejected. In another adjustment, Minghella transformed Peter Smith-Kingsley, one of the book's minor figures, into a gay man offering Ripley love and acceptance.

By fleshing out the book's homoerotic subtext, Minghella has made the story more resonant for a contemporary audience. He has also opened himself to the charge that he has made a movie about a "gay serial killer." "I think that that is a very reductive characterization," Damon said, "but I would urge people to see the movie and make up their own minds about its sex and psychology." To which one might add: Whether you like the film or not and whether or not you find it upsetting, Ripley stands as a sophisticated essay about an identity in formation—economically, psychologically, sexually.

For the movie's Forsterian world of prim Anglo-Saxons smitten with Italian sensuality, Damon's Ripley and Law's Greenleaf were joined by Gwyneth Paltrow as Sherwood and Cate Blanchett as a new character named Meredith Logue. All of them except Damon play roles in keeping with their images. After all, Damon has built his career playing mostly recognizably good guys. "Is my list of credits that heroic?" the actor asks a little disingenuously. To which one answers: Look at your resumé, Matt. Damon's gallery of Hollywood classic male archetypes includes the soldier (Courage Under Fire, Saving Private Ryan), the cowboy (Geronimo, the upcoming All the Pretty Horses), the athlete (School Ties, the upcoming golf fable The Legend of Bagger Vance), and the lawyer on the side of Southern right (The Rainmaker).

As part of his search for new suits, however, Damon has been willing to try some unexpected material. He is the frisky fallen angel Loki in the controversial movie Dogma, and he and Affleck are producing a TV version of The People's History of the United States, an iconoclast work by the scholar Howard Zinn. But it is as Ripley that Damon has most fully revealed in the unexpected.

Some people think it was brave of you, after just having won an Oscar for Good Will Hunting and becoming Hollywood's newly minted leading man, to play a role as upsetting and vulnerable as Tom Ripley.

I don't think playing Ripley was brave of me. I'm an actor who read a great script and who was extremely lucky to have been asked to do the part.

Ripley, however, is a very sad soul, and you appear to be anything but. What personal experiences did you draw on to convey that part of him?

Like everybody, I'm lonely to some extent. Like everybody, I live in fear of not being loved and not having love returned. And I think everybody has a Dickie Greenleaf in his life: someone who is extraordinarily charismatic but who can go away.

Ripley covets everything about Dickie's identity—his way of life, the issue of class, in both the sense of one's social stratum and of one's taste, is, along with sexuality, perhaps the driving issue of the movie. Did you relate to Ripley's cravings for class?

Only to a certain extent. When I was growing up in Cambridge, Mass., people took a certain amount of pride in not being Harvard people. We always thought we were cooler than they were. In terms of relating to Ripley's outsider quality, I have the standard stories that you probably have—of not being invited to the dance and picked for the team. The challenge of Ripley was making the longing to be chosen consistent in my character, despite the horrible things he's doing. Because if you don't stay in sympathy with Ripley—if you go into the theater thinking he's a "gay serial killer" and not a tormented, sensitive human being—then you may as well stay home. You're only going to have your preconceptions confirmed.

What were the key scenes for you to convey Ripley's sexuality?

The chess scene, where Dickie is naked and in the bathtub and Ripley is clothed and out of it. Also the scene where Ripley says he'd take a bullet for Dickie and the scene in the jazz club where, under the cover of music, I shout to him, "It's one big love affair." That's sort of my coming-out in the movie.

The bathtub scene is homoerotic yet slightly enigmatic. Ripley wants to get in the bath, but when he asks and Dickie says no, Ripley has to damp down his desires. Even though, moments later, when Dickie is toweling off, Ripley looks at his ass with a longing that suggests he's just seen the face of God.

When Ripley first got to Italy, if Dickie had taken off his clothes and said, "OK, strip down," Ripley would have just recoiled. Our idea was that he was a virgin. I say that because he's probably never been naked in front of somebody. Remember the first time you were naked in front of somebody? It's terrifying, but you get over it because, hopefully, you have somebody who says, "You're beautiful." But Ripley's never had that. He hasn't crossed the hurdle of deep self-loathing.

But when, at the movie's end, Peter Smith-Kingsley, a sweet, sensitive musician whom Ripley meets...

The ultimate man!

...asks Ripley to take his clothes off and become intimate, he's still struggling with his physical self-image. He is still deeply ashamed of himself, both because of his demonstrated capacity for violence and because of his inability to be intimate—with anyone, male or female. It is this abiding moral sense that makes him human rather than, to be reductive about it, a serial killer. He takes no pleasure in his transgressions.

Right, which is why the ending is so devastating. Ripley still believes that if he showed his authentic nature, he'd be cast aside.

Which is a version of what everyone fears and what some gay people, sadly, fear their whole lives: that as soon as people see our true, hidden natures they will reject us.

So rather than expose himself further to the man who truly loves him, Ripley "rejects" Peter in the most extreme way possible.

Ripley's relationship with Peter is potentially an adult, homosexual one, whereas the one with Dickie is more adolescent and amicable. The movie reminds us that there is a vulnerability involved in same-sex friendships that is just as acute as those in full-fledged gay love affairs.

Same-sex relationships with anyone when you are young entail extreme vulnerability. The first experience most of us have of devastating personal rejection is not with someone we want to date but with someone we want to befriend.

When you were that tender age, was your desire to be an actor looked down upon by your buddies?

No.

You were extremely lucky in that, you know.

I know. A number of people have come up to me and said that because of their interest in theater they were referred to as "drama fags." That wasn't the case in our school. I was supported by my parents and friends in the desire to be creative.

Who were some of the early gay influences on you?

I grew up in a community house, inhabited by my mother and brother and many other adults and children, and a number of people who lived there were gay. My theater teacher was not gay, but I probably had more gay than straight teachers in high school. So being gay, luckily, was not something that I was "introduced" to at some age. It was more that I was introduced to the prejudice against it. I had the reverse of a typical growing-up in that regard.

Your lifelong friendship with Ben Affleck had been endlessly scrutinized since your success with Good Will Hunting. Given how you grew up, was it odd to be tagged as lovers and have that speculation be viewed by some people as a negative thing?

The gay assumption seemed silly to me, a real waste of attention. But I understand that the idea of something hidden fascinates people.

At first, your friendship with Ben was a good marketing ploy. But now that your careers are established, has that strategy gotten tired?

Absolutely. You reach a point where it's your friendship and no one else's.

But you're smart enough to know that the media isn't likely to leave your relationships alone—whether it's you and Ben or you and Winona Ryder, your current girlfriend. You're also smart enough to know that the public has been burned enough times by the media dissembling about homosexuality to be more skeptical than they used to be about the subject. And thus a few people are going to read this interview and still want—still need—to believe that the couple is not you and Winona but you and Ben.

But that's because sex sells magazines and because people are now conditioned to believe that anyone they see on the cover is having sex with everyone in their lives. Given the shallow nature of the packaging and the salesmanship in our culture, it's no surprise that people are lulled into these assumptions.

The unvaryingly sexy packaging is a distraction from ever having to think about the real issues.

Of course.

To go back to you and Ben, would it be so terrible if you were a couple?

The question of whether Ben and I are gay is so awkward in a lot of ways. There is no real right way to answer it without offending somebody. It's offensive to just deny it fiercely, as if there would be anything wrong with it if we were a couple. That would be offensive to the people I grew up with. I don't want to be that person. At the same time, I can't say it's true because it's not. Ben once made light of this type of tabloid speculation by telling an interviewer something like, "I'm sure there are gay people who are in the closet in Hollywood, but also I'm sure that they didn't sleep with Henry's friend." [Laughs]

Yeah, it's interesting how the source for so many tabloid outings always seem to be some Henry guy's pal or some friend of somebody's hairdresser.

That's so true.

One of the strangest things about the media's attempt to disparage your relationship with Ben is that male friendship used to be considered a noble thing. It was not powerful men but powerful women who were divided through the use of the gay rumor. Now same-sex closeness of both genders is targeted.

I guess it's not enough for me to say that I love Ben so much that I'd take a bullet for him.

You also have to say—pardon my bluntness—that you'd take his dick up your ass.

Yeah. It's completely bizarre.

If you were, in fact, in a relationship with another man, would you be in the same position career-wise?

I would like to say that if I were gay, I'd be out. But I think that's not fair because I'm not gay, and I don't know personally what pressure is brought to bear on you if you are. My short answer, without a lot of reflection, is that if you were out, your career would suffer. Would Rock Hudson have had the career he had if he'd been out? No way.

But, of course, we'll never know until someone with your level of leading-man visibility comes out and until Hollywood allows the box office rather than its own internalized prejudices to decide if the public is ready for such a move. With a few test cases, maybe we could move away from this type of discussion. Saying that may be naive, though, given our culture's obsession with celebrities.

And with celebrity bedrooms.

It feels weird to think of the Ripley movie in light of this prurient culture of ours. Because it takes place at a time, the late 50's, when it was taboo for an American guy to confess any kind of affection. That type of unstated longing, of course, is what gives the film so much of its power.

If this were a contemporary movie, the relationships would probably be handled differently. All the people I talked to who are of Ripley's generation—who were young in the '50s—said that you didn't talk that much about your sexuality in any regard. Today, on the other hand, you meet someone, and 15 minutes later he's saying, "You know, my boyfriend and I have this problem with trust." If this were a movie set in 1999, for a tasteful young man like Ripley to admit to a wordly Princeton graduate like Dickie that he has a homosexual side would seem really tame. Especially in our age, when you go home and there, on Jerry Springer, is some guy with two penises.

But in some ways the culture remains alarmingly the same. Highsmith's novel, for example, is infused with homosexual panic. This is part of Ripley's fear of being found out in all aspects of his life—that he's a fake somebody instead of a real nobody. And the fear of thought gay remains a huge fear for some guys still today.

Sure. This makes me think of American Beauty with its theme of the fear of the person next door. Middle America knows that its next-door neighbors could, in fact, be gay. They can't pretend any longer that it's not possible. And that, unfortunately, is very upsetting to some of them. People should recognize that homosexuality just is. Personally, I think it's genetic. That's always been my theory because I have friends who are gay and who really don't want to be and who say they don't have lives that are conducive to it.

What do you mean, "not conducive to it"?

Because being gay makes their lives more difficult professionally.

I'm not going to take the time here to comment on that kind of self-concealment, even though I know from experience how necessary it can seem at a certain time in your life. Are some of these friends actors?

Not just actors. Though it's true that show business is a lot more closed-minded than it may appear. Which is ironic, considering that there are more gay people in the movie industry and in arts in general than in other walks of life.

I think that's a fair and accurate statement. Or at least one that won't frighten the horses.

[Laughs] Right.

Since, in a sense, we've been talking about maintaining appearances, let me raise the matter of appearances regarding the Ripley movie. Specifically clothing. Tom enjoys wearing Dickie's clothes, even though Dickie doesn't always enjoy the fact that Tom is borrowing them. This reflects, of course, how Tom is struggling to assume Dickie's identity in all forms, not just the sexual or psychological ones. The clothing interchange reminded me of one of the real pleasures of being a gay couple: wearing your partner's wardrobe.

But that's not necessarily a gay thing. My group of closest friends and I lived, until recently, in these loose communal situations—in New York, L.A., Boston. And there was a constant raid on somebody's closet. You'd see one of your roommates in a restaurant, and he'd say, "Hey, that's my shirt. You asshole! I just washed that shirt!"

What did the question of clothes mean to you in the making of Ripley?

It relates to body image. Ann Roth, the movie's costume designer, said to Jude Law, "These clothes hang better if you don't wear underwear." So Jude said, "Right, I won't wear underwear." And she looks at me, and I said, "Of course, Tom wears underwear. It would be too exposing of himself not to."

How were clothes key to the formation of your own personal identity?

I remember for my graduation from high school my older brother gave me his leather jacket, which was my favorite thing in the world. He gave it to me in June. I went into my room, put it on, and basically waited for fall. My brother was so cool, and because I was wearing his jacket, I was cool too.

That was a moment not so much of vanity as of validation.

Absolutely.

It's interesting how validation becomes vanity as you grow older. Speaking of which, at what point growing up did you start receiving validation for your looks?

When I got to Harvard. When I got there I thought I was James Dean, wearing my leather jacket. A friend of mine from England, who lived on my dorm floor, and I thought we were very cool. And we weren't afraid to say it to each other.

Some actors consider it a little unmanly to have to obsess so much about their appearance. Do you?

I worry about appearance less than I used to. I look at Brad Pitt. I will never, and could never, look like that. He is just incredible to look at. Period. If I were gay, he would be one of the posters on my wall. Ben and I both have more realistic ideas about what we look like. Not that we're insecure about it. But I know what drop-dead gorgeous looks like, and I know that I'm not it. I also know that I don't want to think, ever, about how I look when I'm in front of the camera. Because then I'm thinking about the wrong thing.

You know, however, that a certain amount of your stock as a movie actor has to do with your appearance.

But if they want handsome, they're not coming after me; they're going to Brad Pitt, Tom Cruise—one of those guys.

I wonder. I can think of a few producers who might think that you would fill the handsome slot just fine.

Well, thank you. Now I feel validated. [Laughs]

You've said that Ripley is a once-in-a-lifetime situation for you. Is that because you wouldn't play a character with Ripley's attributes—repressed rage, class envy, murderousness, homoeroticism, extraordinary sensitivity, aching beauty—ever again?

Anything as original as Ripley I'd love to do again. Unfortunately, people aren't willing to put up the money to make movies like this very often. They were with Anthony Manghella, in part, because he'd just won an Oscar for The English Patient.

Even though you signed on for the movie before Good Will Hunting made you a star, I don't think you should forget the role you and Gwyneth Paltrow played in getting the movie made.

I'm not sure about that. I just hope the movie gets received the way it should. Because, realistically, its box-office chances aren't clear-cut. It needs a strong critical reception to be successful. It's still amazing to me that the studio was so supportive of Anthony's vision. In the wake of The English Patient, he could have directed a lot of movies, but he chose to make this one. He's the one who's brave, not me.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not liking my 3 y/o brother?

We’re both autistic, but very differently; I get overloaded easily and have violent meltdowns, and he gets understimulated very easily and loves to make constant noise. He always has his iPad on, usually way too loud, and always on the most grating songs (my parents got him headphones last Christmas so we could both be happy, but that’s been entirely forgotten now and I haven’t even seen them since maybe January). Sometimes I’ll go downstairs for food and he’ll have both the iPad and TV on with different things, both loud, and also be shrieking loudly enough to cause me physical pain, sometimes while throwing toys at the floor to make the loudest crash he can as well

It’s worse because the way the house is built, all of the sound from the living room gets funnelled directly to my room

Most days, I have to isolate myself in my room with the door closed and noise cancelling headphones on at all times to block out the noise, and sometimes even that isn’t enough. It’s completely fine if the living room door is also closed, and that room is not only huge but is also connected to the garden, but I’ve been getting shouted at for asking my parents to try and keep the door closed, because he wants full reign of the entire floor while I’m trapped in one room to try to avoid getting overloaded daily

I really want to love my brother, he’s so sweet and happy, but it drives me insane. I understand we have very different needs and I’ve been trying to just deal with it as best I can, but I’m the furthest away I can physically get from where he is most of the time and I still can’t escape the noise

Am I an arsehole for not being able to like him anymore?

What are these acronyms?

[thebibutterflyao3]

Day 13 - Prompt: Strong @wolfstarmicrofic

January Daily Series - 527 words

<<<Previous Part OR Start Here

Sirius took his time retracing his steps back toward the cave where he’d left his brother and James. Padfoot dragged his end of the leash on the ground as he plodded along at his side. After a romp in the water with James and a long walk with Lily, the dog was dead on his feet.

“We’ll head back in a minute, alright? Just need to make sure James didn’t wander too deep into the caves again.”

For a bloke who was an actual Boy Scout, James had the worst sense of direction in the caves. He could navigate anywhere else, even deep in the woods, but stick him underground and he was far too easily distracted by the sights and sounds surrounding him. Perhaps it was the lack of light that threw off his internal compass.

When he reached the grassy head of the craggy ridge on the far side of the beach, Sirius was relieved to see his brother perched on a ledge outside the cave of the “serpent stone.” Regulus was tapping at his mobile screen idly, then leaned in and lined up his camera to take a picture of the cave mouth.

“Where’s James?” he called, waving as he approached.

“Inside still. He’s looking for symbols on the walls.”

Sirius frowned. “There aren’t any symbols in this cave. He must be thinking of another one.”

Regulus looked up and tilted his head. “Are you sure? He sounded quite confident it was in this one.”

“James is confident of everything he says.” Sirius eyed the steep slope down to the water’s edge and sighed. “Call him out, would you? I’d rather not walk back with wet boots.”

Regulus tucked his phone away and skidded down to the golden sand that blanketed the floor of the cave. “James? Sirius is back.”

His voice bounced back to him in a higher, distorted echo. Regulus cringed at it, then shook his head. “He didn’t answer.”

“Shite. Don’t tell me he’s lost again.”

“Lost? Again?” Regulus squawked, tripping on the sand as he rushed forward. “James Potter, get your arse back here now!”

A low thud echoed through the cave before James’s voice finally filtered through. “Uh…about that. I might be stuck.”

“What? Why didn’t you tell me?” Regulus shrieked, his voice a full octave higher than normal.

“I didn’t want you to worry?”

“Sirius!”

He’d already started climbing down the rock face, carefully leading Padfoot behind him. “Yeah, I’m here. Hold on.”

Sirius couldn’t hide the shit-eating grin on his face at his brother’s immediate demand for his assistance. This wasn’t the first time James had underestimated his size while crawling in the caves. The twat was plenty strong enough to haul himself through the narrow passages, but too broad.

A fleeting image of Remus flicked through his mind as he helped the dog awkwardly skid down the last few feet of loose rock.

Did Remus underestimate his size?

The thought startled him. Sirius had no idea why his brain would offer that particular query right now. He was headed into an Odysseus-themed twat rescue, Remus’s body should be the furthest thing from his mind. He shook his head clear and stepped inside the cave.

Next Part>>>

[starrycometmoth]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY LUMI HINOMORI!!

My first card edit!! 😰

Original + rambles and an announcement about Lumi underneath the cut

Hello everyone!! Today (for me) is January 11th, 2025!! It's my eighteenth birthday!!

It's also my oc's, Lumi's, birthday!!

Lumi has been my s/i since early 2022, as they were originally a Danganronpa s/i. That may not be too long of a time for most people, but to me that feels like a lifetime. They've been through A LOT of phases. Fun fact: their name used to be Echo. I changed their name because at the start of my Pokemon SV phase because I got the idea to make a Miraidon oc, since I kin Miraidon. I used the name Echo for an rp as my Miraidon oc until i figured out a different one, but the name stuck onto them. So, I renamed my s/i to Lumi (coming from the Italian word "luminoso/a," which means "bright!"). From there, they were just this silly guy that I shipped with Penny. They touched the NSO universe for a brief second as well, more about that later. Eventually, we get to my PJSK phase, where I create my first Lumi counterpart with slightly fledged-out lore. I did something I never thought of doing with them before, which was giving them lore that didn't connect much to my actual self. Their PJSK counterpart made Lumi more of their own person, compared to their past counterparts who barely had lore because I didn't want them to stray away from me too much. The same thing ended up happening when I put them into Mouthwashing, I gave that counterpart their own lore as well, the only thing really similar to myself being their very different appearance from their other counterparts. I liked having freedom when I made these two counterparts of Lumi.

Here's where I start the rambles that lead up to my announcement FJSKSLA

So, there was an issue with the NSO counterpart once I started begging the question "how old even is Lumi?" Because the thing is, their NSO counterpart never actually became a thing. I had plans to do so, and the furthest I got was making them a streamer persona. I quickly realized an issue. I didn't want to age Lumi up. Obviously, I was not going to ship an adult (Ame) with a minor (Lumi). The streamer persona was already a confirmed adult, but I didn't have the heart to connect them to Lumi because of the fact that I didn't want to age Lumi up nor ship them with an adult. So I never got to go too far with that idea.

The idea of making Lumi an adult has never sat right with me once I started thinking about it. Originally, their age was supposed to line up to mine, but it was hard to keep track of that, so basically I just made their age 15-17. Plus, I was still uncomfortable with the idea of aging them up. With that freedom I felt when giving them their own lore, I realized something I wanted to do, something I'm going to announce right now...

I didn't want to have Lumi be my self insert anymore.

Obviously, I didn't want to get rid of them as an oc, but I didn't want them to be me anymore.

I wanted to make them their own person, and then make someone brand new to be me. However, the person I tried to make as the new, adult "me," I didn't really like. They didn't feel like me.

So I'm currently figuring out a new s/i, which I haven't really had many ideas for that. Eventually, they'll be here. But for now, the only thing I can say is certain is that as of today, Lumi Hinomori is now their own person. They're no longer my self-insert. They're their own person. I will still self-project onto them, as I do all of my ocs, but not to the point where they're loreless.

Whoever actually took the time to read this, thank you. Thank you for being here on this journey, whether this is the first time you've heard my oc's name or you're somehow one of the 3 people that knew them when they were still named Echo. It makes me happy seeing people interested in my blorbos, and I hope I can make more that I'm confident in one day!

[growwithmeastrology]

Pluto enters Aquarius, Saturday, January 20, 2024

The hype of this transit is getting a little out of control so I will take this opportunity to keep it real! Nothing is going to happen over night. It will affect society as a whole more than anything else as well. As the slowest moving planet in our solar system, the transitions invoked under this energy will be a progression. How it impacts you personally requires a study of where it transits your birth chart but this belief that it’s a finite moment and everything will suddenly change is a false belief.

In the same breath I will also say that it is kind of a big deal. But in order to comprehend why, we must understand Pluto’s energies. Coined as the planet of transformation, Pluto is much much more than that. That’s just scratching the surface of what this energy is.

In placement perspective, Pluto is the last planet and furthest away in our solar system. He’s like the mysterious emo kid dressed in black hanging out in the back of the class stirring things up that nobody else can see because they’re facing forward. Pluto is all about bringing things to the surface, reincarnation, solidarity. He also giveth and he taketh away. Pluto is the eliminator but also the redeemer. The definition of death and rebirth. More specifically, the stages after death and before rebirth.

It takes Pluto 242 years to transit through every sign of the zodiac. So you can easily see its influence through historical events if you look. Empires, civilizations and societal structures all fall and rise with each zodiacal transition.

People generally see this as menacing energy because it deals with uncomfortable things. Most of all, change. His job is to uncover what is hidden in the dark and that’s rarely comfortable for most of us. But like the lotus flower that is born in the depths of the mud, the focus of these energies should be the beauty that is created as it comes into the light.

Now that Pluto is entering a new sign, we are at the dawn of all things changing from structured and disciplined Capricorn transformation to the new age Aquarius flavor. So what is being torn down and being rebuilt? What will be Pluto’s focus in Aquarius? In the next 20 years it will flip the script on topics like technology, the internet, societal groups, community connection, networking and not to be left out, Capricornian political structures. Basically, how we are all connected is about to get a complete overhaul. Pluto can be black and white and quite dramatic too so the tea is about to be spilled on topics considered taboo. We’ve been seeing these things come to the surface over the last year since Pluto dipped its toes in Aquarius early last year before its retrograde. He won’t be done with Capricorn this year either as it will retrograde back to Capricorn one more time in September doing a final sweep this year on Capricorn topics. Most of all, finances and governments. Why? Because Capricorn rules governments and societal structures and Pluto is ultimate power over the masses. What happens this year will be completely irreversible. It creates change on a collective level. Aquarius is all about societal groups as a whole as well. So significant and evolutionary changes will impact us all over the next 20 years.

Though black and white in its behavior, it is not cut and dry. There’s an unconscious drive in all of us that will influence these changes. Almost like self sabotage but for the betterment of our future. It is the back seat driver of our destiny.

So what direction are we heading in and what is your influence on that? That’s the free will part of this existence. Are you hanging on to the old structures or are you embracing the inevitable changes towards our future? As a group of people on this plane under the singular net we call earth, understand that we either make it harder on ourselves by hanging on to old ways or we float freely and easily with the currents progressively moving forward. Either way, change is coming and it won’t be easy but we actually get to decide how we go about this. This energy isn’t telling us what we don’t already know. It’s just asking us to acknowledge what requires change. What has been suppressed? Where have we been turning a blind eye? Surprise!! We can’t ignore it any more.

Personally, I plan to completely let go of the fears bestowed upon me by the people we have put in control and begin to governing myself along side the ones I love in the manner that resonates most harmoniously between us and how we see fit. I will embrace the dawning of this new era.

If you enjoy my posts please like, comment, share and consider a gratitude tip in support. 🅿️ PayPal, Venmo or CashApp - @NaliniFlor

Learn more about your personal energies and how this transit personally affects you! Comment below⬇️ or DM me for a consultation.

[dontsayiexist]

Saints Row IV is a good game, but not a good Saints Row title.

A mega post about my feelings on Saints Row IV.

So as of January 16th of 2025, I have fully completed Saints Row IV’s story + all of the simulation’s activities and so on. I have not fully 100% the game because I literally cannot be asked to continue doing the same activities over and over to see numbers go up. I just can’t do that, not with this game at all.

I am going to divide this section into pro’s and con’s depending on how many con’s there is compared to pro’s and vice versa. Saints Row IV has a lot more cons than pro’s, so I believe I would like to get into the con’s first and foremost before anything else.

CONS:

1. Zinyak - Might I start off with our totally favorite villain in the entire franchise, Zinyak? I have.. a lot of things to say about this alien. For one, I’d like to start on the text adventure. I grabbed all the text adventure parts and went through them, exploring each option and finding out Zinyak’s… “backstory.” A lot of what I saw in there was just straight up Zin propaganda to make them appear more superior than what they actually are - and truth be told.. 90% of what he said sounded like complete and utter malarkey. I only felt like 10% actually made sense, and this is with me literally taking into account that the Zin are legit a superior race than humanity is. I think Zinyak is full on lying for most of the text adventure for sure. I also just find it hilarious how he wants to point towards calling the Saints the bad guys, and claiming that The Boss is the doer of all wrongs, but he’s the man who killed 7 billion people. He’s the man who took away an entire race, and their home, all because one person escaped their simulation and defied against Zinyak. I think that there’s a large contrast between The Boss, whom is going against the system and going against those who oppose them for the better of their crew, and as seen truthfully better for the city in the end, as opposed to Zinyak who literally blows up the Earth and kills 7 billion people because The Boss escaped their simulation, and yet Zinyak wants to pin The Boss like they are the villain - when that is literally the furthest thing from the darn truth. Zinyak spends the entire campaign trying to manipulate you into thinking you are a bad guy, and that what he did was righteous, and for what? Thinking that it’ll somehow stop The Boss and just make them give in to his rule? This is the same alien overlord that has left multiple other planets in ruin for similar reasons, who made his own personal steward, Zinjai, suffer in a nightmare simulation for testing purposes. This man has no morals, there’s not a single glimmer of light in this man. Zinyak is a monster, a creature of the purest darkness. The Boss has a reason for everything they do, and truthfully.. Zinyak didn’t have any true reasoning to blow up Earth. He just did it because “oh boohoo you left my simulation!!” Which brings me to my next point regarding how the Earth blowing up was treated:

2. Earth’s Demise - Why the heck is it that The Boss, Keith David, and Kinzie Kensington only seemed upset that Zinyak blew up Earth for 2 seconds and then boom, right back into the simulation to cause damage? I want to also say the longevity of how this catastrophic, and downright apocalyptic event, is even treated. Earth’s destruction is brought up a lot, but why do the Saints seem so.. unaffected by it? Why is it that it seems like they’re just told about it and then forget about it entirely? Realistically, The Saints would all be very entirely broken by the fact that Earth was destroyed - The Boss, Keith, and Kinzie, being the worst offenders. Why does it feel like that Kinzie is barely affected by the Earth’s demise, outside of one throwaway audio log where she says she misses Oleg? And you can’t sit here and argue “oh well, she’s surrounded by her dreams of alien technology-“ no. I don’t think even alien technology could be enough of a distraction from the fact that Earth is gone. Outside of that, think about how The Boss would have to feel to deliver the news to all the homies they rescue that Earth is gone, they may die out in space, alone, nowhere to go and be at peace. It’s like Earth’s demise didn’t even matter whatsoever. Moving onto the next con though, nonetheless:

3. The Story - The story might be laid out better than Saints Row: The Third, but that does NOT MEAN that the story is better by any means whatsoever. Saints Row IV’s story is not only reference central, but it’s also just… so badly written. A lot of it is just throwbacks, references, and barely any plot surrounding the fact that the leader of the Zin Empire just turned Earth into floating asteroids littered throughout the Milky Way galaxy now. Keith David has no reason to be in the story, nor does Roddy Piper for that matter too. The only reason Maero, Julius, Cyrus Temple, Veteran Child, and Philipe Loren are in the homies list is purely just for neat little throwbacks. Outside of that, they have ZERO reason to be in this game whatsoever. And they don’t look good either - Maero especially got butchered with the way he appears in Saints Row IV. The nightmare simulations are also so awful too - Shaundi’s is the best one here, with Johnny Gat being second, but.. everyone else’s is just so godawful it makes me cringe. Kinzie has the worst nightmare sim in the entire game, you cannot argue with me otherwise. On top of that, why is it they are bringing Veteran Child back before Troy, Dex, Carlos, or even fucking Lin?? Lin was supposed to be in this game, but was scrapped too. What is that all about, seriously?? I also want to bring up this fact I learned too - Saints Row IV was brought up as an April Fool’s joke in the past, but then it became more than just an April Fool’s gag. It was originally supposed to be just a DLC for Saints Row: The Third, that then became a full fledged rush job of a video game. Unlike Saints Row 1, 2, and 3, that were created with a clear goal and idea in mind, and all three being - in my opinion - executed very well/decently for 3’s case.

4. Gameplay - So the gameplay alone is not that big of a con, but I’m going to bring up once again that I firmly believe Saints Row IV does not, and will never not, fit as a Saints Row title. Saints Row’s gameplay comes down to grounded third person shooting, running, and driving. With the introductory of superpowers in Saints Row IV, all that becomes useless. You are forced to use superpowers to progress through the game, and I personally think that it throws any identity gameplay wise that Saints Row had out the window. Why use a gun, when you can just throw fireballs at your enemies and potentially kill them quicker than a fully upgraded Assault Rifle, Pistol, or Shotgun can? Why use cars when you can just run like The Flash or fly endlessly to your objectives? Saints Row IV boasts pretty decent customization, but it’s all thrown out the window anyways because half of it is deemed useless thanks to superpowers and crutches the game gives you. I can get behind the fact that it may be necessary to enjoy the game, albeit, but it just still strips out the identity of what made Saints Row’s gameplay original in the first place - like Saints Row 2, where you can use literally anything as a weapon, like a trash can or a mailbox.

5. Below will be lesser cons that I have with the game, but they don’t really need elongated explanations.

- Overabundance of useless activities. (looking at you, mayhem variants)

- The usage of Steelport for the second time in a row, and not a new city, nor Stilwater. (this part is understandable but it’s just a personal dig of mine)

- The fact the game was only in development for a year, then pushed out.

- Some of the dialogue choices in question (Cyrus Temple’s misogyny against Kinzie feels very out of character, especially for a man who’s second in command for SRTT was Kia.)

- The levels of absurdity that further erase the identity Saints Row created with SR1, 2, and to an extent 3.

- The writers backing themselves into a corner due to having to create this.. “Saints Row” game, as it were.

With the cons finally out of the way, let’s get into some of the pros. I don’t really have a lot of pro’s for this game as opposed to SR1, 2, and 3, but they are pretty strong standing ones.

1. Customization - Saints Row IV has some pretty good customization, albeit the vehicle and to an extent, weapon compartment, being somewhat or completely useless. The character customization is really damn good though: Hairstyle options, clothing options, body customization, skin tone, eyes, they knocked it out of the park in that compartment specifically.

2. Graphics - I will say that in all obviousness, the graphics of SR4 do look a lot better than SRTT’s. I think the color palette is a lot more vibrant and better looking all around and easier on the eyes, but this is more of a 50/50 thing because I feel like in IAD, the way the lighting works, it is too bright sometimes and I can’t see what I’m doing with my character. Outside of there specifically though, it is pretty nice altogether. I do enjoy the Cyberpunk esque vibes, (Night City is literally beautiful af IMO), so I do give Simulated Steelport a pass here in that regard.

3. Below are some lesser pro’s that I wanted to mention, but don’t need huge explanations.

- Asha, Johnny Gat, and Shaundi’s super outfits are cool.

- Asha Odekar’s introduction and Matt Miller’s return is pretty cool too.

- The in-game music, both OST and Radio Station, is also pretty nice as well.

OVERALL RATING: 5.8/10

Saints Row IV is a game that I believe would’ve been a better game altogether if it were instead a spin-off of Saints Row, or just unrelated to the franchise entirely. What we got was not good whatsoever, and in my opinion, it further tainted the Saints Row franchise than what Saints Row The Third did. I don’t like how the timeline of Saints Row goes from how good it was portrayed in 1 and 2, and for the most part, 3, and then devolves into what it becomes in Saints Row IV, Saints Row: Gat Out Of Hell, and Saints Row (2022). I think there’s definitely good aspects about it, but the negatives severely outweigh the positives. I had hope for this game, but it was just… slashed in half, as a fan whose love for this franchise comes from Saints Row 2 and The Third primarily. The Saints didn’t deserve anything that happened in this game.

[psychiatry-and-poetry]

Missed Chances and Stolen Glances

Part 1 | Part 4 | AO3 | ACOTAR Masterpost | Masterpost of masterposts |

A/N: I sort of needed a filler chapter before we have any more tutoring sessions, so this is it

Word Count: 1613

“And I’m sad to the core, core core

Every day is a chore, chore chore

When you give, I want more, more more

I wanna be adored”

~ Primadonna Girl, Marina

Dumping her bag in her room, she collapsed face-first onto her bed and didn’t move.

That had gone much better than expected. Honestly, Gwyn had thought he’d be nice to her on the day of the party, and then either ghost her on the actual day the tutoring was scheduled or just turn into a narcissistic, whiny teenager. There seemed to be a concerning amount of those in her classes right now. 

She breathed a sigh of relief as she flopped down onto her bed and stared up at the ceiling. Why was her heart racing? And why was she suddenly so warm? It was the middle of freaking January, and there were heaps of snow scattered on the sidewalk. 

She’d been nervous in the beginning; skeptical and worried. She didn’t speak much Spanish outside her house. Other than her mother and sister, there was no one at school who was Spanish or spoke enough at a conversational level; at least no one she knew of. It was like baring a part of herself, her culture to a stranger who might not have even shown up. One part of her brain told her that she was being ridiculous. Of course he’d show up. He wanted the tutoring, damn it. He said he’d pay her for it. Another part of her, the part she didn’t particularly want to confront right now, was a steady beat of insecurities against the walls of her mind. I mean, he could have. He’s popular. What if he just got dared to ask you to do something like this? I wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d been a no-show and decided to do it just for laughs.

That was actually why she’d made a beeline for a the encyclopedia section of the library; to calm her racing heart. Gwyn was a nerd, sure, but she sure as hell didn’t read encyclopedias for fun. She’d just needed to get away from him, and the non-fiction books happened to be the furthest away from where they were sitting.

Gwyn groaned into her pillow. She was supposed to be studying, but couldn’t focus on anything other than him. His presence was magnifying. It made the entire room seem smaller, even as she sat far away from him or went up to get a book as he did his homework or the exercises she’d assigned him. She could tell he was watching her every time she got up to examine the bookshelves, could feel his eyes between her shoulder blades or on her back as he constantly kept one eye on her.

Despite herself, Gwyn could feel herself getting excited at the prospect of someone liking her. Hell, she wasn’t even sure if she liked him yet, and it was probably too early to tell. You’re so stupid, I swear to God. It’s been one measly hour with him and you’re already fangirling. Let’s keep his ego down on Earth, yeah? It’s not like he needs any more horny and desperate girls hounding him.

Indeed, he already had a horde of popular and pretty girls following him like a swarm of bees around school. Insistent, buzzing, and irritiating, they always seemed to be wherever he was. It happened often enough that it couldn’t be likened to chance, so she knew it was because they wanted to hound him in the hopes that he’d pick one of them for a date after school, or whatever it was they did outside of classes. Drugs, vaping, God knows what else. She shuddered. It wasn’t frequent for students at their school to be doing something like this. There were some from her class who did such…activities, but she’d made sure to stay far away. 

Groaning, she got up and dragged herself to her desk. Moping about and reminiscing over an hour of tutoring was certain to bring her nothing but immense amounts of regret when exam season rolled around. She’d have to do the studying anyway; why not get started on it now?

✦ ✦ ✦

“So?” Azriel asked, unable to hold his eagerness in any longer. He was practically swaying on his heels like a small girl about to get a pony. “Who is it?”

“You’re not gonna believe it,” muttered Rhys as he shook his head. “It was the last person we expected.”

Azriel’s eyes widened in alarm. “No fucking way.”

“Yes fucking way, apparently,” he grumbled, clearly irritated.

“You’re dating Nesta Archeron?” 

Cassian only nodded, a smug smirk on his face. “Do you know what you’ve gotten yourself into?”

Cassian’s grin widened. “Not a fucking clue.”

“You’re going to get hurt,” Azriel deadpanned. “She’s a bitch. She’ll eat you up for breakfast and will have gone through at least four more guys before the next week is up.”

“Yeah, but she’s hot.” Azriel rolled his eyes. Typical Cassian. 

“And it doesn’t hurt that she has that killer look on her. You know, the one that says, fuck with me, you won’t be able to fuck with anything afterwards.”

“Yeah, because she’ll chop your dick off!” Rhys nearly yelled. Despite himself, Azriel barely held in a laugh. Oh, what he wouldn’t give to see how terribly it would bruise Cassian’s ego to be castrated.

Banishing the entertaining disturbing vision from his mind, he schooled his features into neutrality. “Rhys is right, you know. You should stop before it blows up in your face.”

Cassian merely waved a hand, ever the portrait of nonchalance.

He shared an exasperated look with Rhysand. There was no way they were going to get Cass to back down. Once he’d decided on something, he was a stubborn ass, and wouldn’t rest until he got it. He was also incapable of taking advice in the areas he most required it. It was ironic, really, seeing as it was one of the many qualities which had led to Azriel befriending him, but right now, he was pissed at his friend.

“Haven’t you heard the rumours about her, you moron?” Rhys added. It seemed that he’d called Azriel for backup when their annoying, headstrong buffoon of a friend refused to listen. Azriel had decided to drop by Cassian’s, since Rhys had already taken the liberty of inviting himself in. And so they were sat on the couch, each with a bottle of soda, as they bickered over Cassian’s newest paramour. 

“I met her at the track two days ago, and she looked so fucking hot, like you don’t even get it. I swear, those shorts-” 

“If you’re going to talk about how hot your new girlfriend is for however long we’re going to be here, Rhys and I might as well leave,” Azriel interrupted. 

Cassian huffed, albeit dramatically, and crossed his arms. “Would playing Fortnite or GTA convince either of you to stay?”

Rhys and Azriel immediately broke out into wide grins, took one look at each other, and rushed towards the controllers, shoving each other out of the way as they tried to get ‘the best one’, as they liked to call it. All it had was a small red dot to mark it as Cassian’s, but they all believed it brought them luck.

Cassian merely took a seat on the sofa and crossed his legs. “Heathens,” he muttered, loud enough for everyone to hear, but they knew his words had no real bite to them. 

Azriel spent the evening at Cassian’s since his parents were out of town. Gaming, eating takeout pizza from Domino’s and general guffawing over the stupidest things, they ended up passing out on the couch at around one in the morning.

The next day, Azriel was sorely regretting his past self’s decisions. Who the hell had decided that they should stay up late and game instead of going to bed? His head was heavy, eyes drooping and hair mussed as he fought exhaustion. Clambering into the car and stifling a yawn, he rubbed at his eyes.

“Shit,” Azriel muttered as they pulled up to school. Rhys was their designated driver, and Azriel thought it was unfair how he always managed to look so well put-together. Hair neatly tamed, hoodie, a pair of jeans, and fancy cologne were Rhys’ go-to’s. Cassian often teased him, saying that it was silly how much time he spent on his stupid hair. Rhys merely retorted, stating how important it was for one’s hair to be healthy and well-maintained. Neither of them believed this of course, but they went along with it just to make Rhys happy. 

“I forgot my chemistry folder at home. Ms. Rogers will kill me if I show up again without it.”

“Just skip,” Rhys said over his shoulder as he eyed a side mirror to attempt to park the car. “I’ve done it so many times I don’t even think she knows my name.”

“You do realise my father will have my corpse hanging by the gates by this evening if I pull another stunt like that, don’t you?”

Rhys and Cassian had always assumed Azriel’s father to be far more lenient than he actually was, but neither knew the true extent of his wrath, or how far he’d be willing to go to ‘keep his son in line’. Azriel wasn’t a fucking dog, but his father had made it clear that until Azriel lived under his roof, he was to follow his father’s rules; no questions asked. 

Cursing himself internally for forgetting again, he walked inside, bag slung over one shoulder and already dreading the day ahead.

Part 5

Line dividers credit goes to @enchanthings

[anxiously-going]

Mirror Image

This is part of draft for the AOS Mirror!verse I started back in January 2019 when I first started writing fanfiction.

Leonard McCoy readjusted the bag hanging from his shoulder for the tenth time before punching in the code to his home for the next four years. The door slid open to reveal a simple living room with a kitchenette to one side with a short hallway that led to one of the two bedrooms and a door opposite that for the other room.

He had never particularly cared for the mild fame his family had back home, but it certainly came with its privileges. Namely, getting more of an apartment than an ordinary dorm room. Even having to share the space wouldn't be so bad since there were separate bedrooms.

Len walked down the hallway to stake his claim on the furthest room. He hadn't been particularly eager to be at the Academy, but his mother had insisted and gone through all the effort to get him in on good standings, so turning up early to make sure he got the room he wanted was a small prize.

His bags hit the ground with a dull thud when the door closed behind him. He fell back against it with a small sigh.

So this was it. A bed sat in the middle of the room. To one side a closet, to the other a bathroom, and just at his elbow a dresser. His new home.

Vaguely he wondered how Jocelyn was enjoying having the house to herself. An ache started in the middle his chest and spread from there at the thought of her. He had tried convincing his mother that a simple life, in the family clinic, with a family of his own could be an honorable thing. Besides, he needed to be there for her. He couldn't leave her alone after his father's death.

But she would hear none of it. Her father and brothers had serviced in the Imperial Fleet, and so would her son.

It was a shame that Jocelyn wasn't interested in long distance relationships. She'd handed him the divorce papers along with his acceptance letter into the Academy.

Len nearly fell backward when the door swished open behind him, but a pair of hands pushed him upright and held him steady.

"Guess I'm not the first one in the dorm."

Len turned to find his apparent roommate giving a lopsided smile and offering a hand "James Kirk, Command."

"Leonard McCoy, Medical." He shook the young man's hand firmly.

"I guess you just got here too?" James asked gesturing to the bags on the ground.

"I did," Leonard confirmed. "But I'm not moving. And you're not in command yet so don't expect me to follow any kinda orders."

James chuckled. "That almost sounded believable. I'm gonna hold you to that 'yet' part though." He hoisted his bag onto his shoulder and turned and walked away.

"Hey, Doc," James called down the hall. "Dinning hall's open, you comin'?"

Leonard wore a look of bafflement as he met his roommate in the common area. "You're James Kirk."

James arched a brow at the man. "Last time I checked, yeah. And you're Leonard McCoy. Only surviving doctor of an outbreak in Georgia last year." Len bristled at the mention of home. "You're not the only one who can run a name search, pal," James finished brusquely. "People are gonna ask about it. You'd better get used to talking about it."

"It's not their business," Len answered sharply.

"They're not gonna care. You're mildly famous for it. People are gonna talk. Especially the other med students. I've got an idea," James waggled a finger at the doctor. "Follow me."

"I know where the dining hall is, Kirk," Len rolled his eyes.

"We're not going to the dining hall. You like cheeseburgers?"

Leonard followed James across the campus and into the library. "What are we doin' here?"

"Emergency exit," James answered.

"Don't those normally set off alarms?"

"Not this one." He popped the door open and ushered Len to the outside. "Welcome to San Francisco."

Leonard arched a brow. "How do you know how to sneak off campus after only one day here?"

"Family secret," James smirked. "C'mon, let's go get dinner."

Len followed uncertainly.

"When the Empire landed on Tarsus there were nine of us that survived the execution order," James started conversationally as they headed down the sidewalk. "When I heard who was on the list, and that it included me, I pulled as many of the kids as I could. It wasn't many. But the order was to be carried out immediately so I didn't really have a lot of time. The youngest was four. I held him so he wouldn't cry when we hide with the bodies when they came through to take a count. Tom and I kept the others hidden. Tom stayed with the kids and I'd go out and scrounge for whatever food I could. It was two weeks before help came. The Empire basically recruited Tom and I right out of the hole they dug us out of. They took our kids away and shipped them out without ever telling us where they went. I still don't know where most of them went. Tom... I don't know what happened to him either. I was told he washed out. Pike tried to help him like he helped me, but he just couldn't reach him. I nearly washed out for that matter, but Pike, well, he wouldn't let me go. He took me under his wing, defended me against everyone trying to get rid of me, I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for him."

"Why're you tellin' me this?" Len asked wearily.

"People are going to ask what happened in Georgia. It's just gonna happen. And you're going to be expected to talk about it like it was nothing, like it was an accomplishment. Because it was. You saved a lot of lives, McCoy. But you can't sound like it affected you."

Leonard scoffed. "Sure. I only watched half the town hospital die. Who's gonna be affected by something like that?"

"The attitude is a great defense mechanism, but someone's gonna see through it and then you're gonna be in trouble."

Len halted. "What do you care anyway?" he demanded, throwing out his arms.

"Because I get it," James answered calmly.

"Oh you 'get it'?" Len scoffed incredulously.

"Yeah, I do."

"Enlighten me."

"You're angry. Here's this young kid, who doesn't know the first thing about what you went through, telling you to pretend like it was nothing. Not only that, but he has the audacity to congratulate you for surviving something you had no business surviving. And if you were honest with yourself, you probably didn't even want to survive. But here he is pretending to get it, pretending to understand. Pike did the same thing to me. Except, y'know, it was some old guy who didn't really care. And at first I hated him for it. I gave him a bloody nose for it, actually. Look, you can hate me all you want, you can even punch me for it. But I'm warning you now, the way that he warned me. You will not last here, if you let it show how it affected you. I'm not saying, 'don't be affected' that's impossible. I'm saying, 'don't let them see it'. You cannot let it show. Because if you do, they'll either kick you out, or worse. They'll let you stay and let someone else tear you apart and make an example of you." James waited a minute, hoping Leonard was taking in his words, before speaking again. "Look. We don't know each other. That makes it hard to listen to a thing I say, but I'm telling you now because Pike waited with me, and I nearly got sent away. And, yeah, maybe I'd be on a better course, but I would've lost Chris. And I don't know what I'd be without him. You're drifting. The Empire is…far from perfect, but it is an anchor. And you need that right now. Or you're gonna find yourself in worse trouble."

Leonard slumped against the wall of the shop they had stopped in front of with a sigh. "I don't even want to be here."

James arched a brow. "I would never have guessed. How'd you end up here then?"

"My mother wanted me here a long time ago. Was my plan to take over the clinic one day though, so I stayed home. I wanted to stay even more after… She needed someone to take care of her. But she started talking to my uncles who'd served and their friends... I never even filled out an application. Just got an acceptance letter in the mail and was out the door a week later."

Jim nodded slowly and began walking again. "Sounds like a rough year."

"Year to the day," Leonard agreed and fell into step next to him. "One year ago today Michael Thompson walked into the E.R. with what we thought was just an sinus infection. Six months later…" He shook his head. "Nearly every patient I'd worked with that ended up sick was dead. And two of the other doctors there were sick. Three months after that all our patients were dead and me and couple nurses were the only ones not sick. At the end of the fourth month it was all over. Me and two others survived. Everyone else who stepped into that hospital during those ten months was dead."

"Sounds like survivor's guilt."

"I minored in psychology, kid, but thanks for the eval."

"You did do a lot of good though. You know that, right?"

"I know the media only tells half the story," Len answered quietly.

[seasonal-writes]

2023 Writing Round-Up

Rules: Share what you wrote this year! It can be works you posted to Ao3, Wattpad, Tumblr, or anywhere else! You can share everything you wrote or just the ones you’re most excited about. my beloved mutual @canarydarity tagged me in this. thank you for the tag, worm! this was really fun :D p.s. almost every fic in here is team rancher. and almost all of it is shipping. so i am not going to make my bias so obvious by labeling them, i will simply make not of the ONE that is not team rancher. i'm mentally unwell about them and the bias has not gone away. so just a fair warning. &lt;3

January

"bruised / cuts" // 1,347 words "small / cuts" // 1,897 words

'jimmy and tango are in love and clumsy, usually resulting in minor injuries. these are their stories.

dUN DUN-' "19% touch starved and 91% in denial" // 2,551 words

'a short fic in which jimmy is touch-starved, and his new soulmate, tango, is the furthest thing from it.' "old heartbeats die hard" // scarian // 1,413 words

'Did you know that listening to someone’s heartbeat can have a calming effect on your own heart and breathing pattern? Grian knows this. And he knows it’s working right now, even if it’s not enough to lull him to sleep quite yet. Though, there is still relief in knowing that one is still thumping away in Scar’s chest. Its pace is still fresh and lively and steady, just how he likes it— even if he’d never say something like that out loud.' "When Fate Finds Golden Rings" (ongoing, originally published in late january) // 65,044 words as of the last current update in mid-july.

'Being a prince comes with many things. Reputation, politics..even war, if one isn't careful.

When the Kingdom of the Overworld's alliance with the Nether grows tense, there is only one way to repair it, and it lies within the hands of two princes—arranged to be married to end a fight that simmers hot between the two planes.

But when Heir-to-the-throne Tango would rather stay at odds than follow through, and the the youngest Prince Jimmy finds no way for a wedding to solve anything, how can they bite back their gripe and fulfill their responsibilities?

How do you fight a destiny that's forged in gold? (or, a Ranchers Royalty AU. Take two.)'

February

"i ain't ever liked sweets (till you sugar-coated my teeth)" // 2,556 words

'a short, fluffy, plotless valentine's day rancher duo one-shot! :D'

March - June

these few months, i worked on personal projects and was in the thick of Golden Rings updates. so, nothing too exciting!

July

"how do you talk to a star?" // 1,285 words 'jimmy is in love with tango. he does not plan on telling him.' also, the last update i did on golden rings. maybe someday i'll get back to it, akfdjs

August - December

more personal projects! i had a few new AUs i never quite debuted that i created and cultivated with friends, wrote a little for them--but they weren't really enough to post, so. and that's all for the year! i appreciate everyone who's stuck around this long, even with my inactivity the past few months. i am hoping that with the new year, there will come new motivation to get back into it. posting all my little stories and ideas have both helped me realize i really am beyond in love with writing, AND i made lots of new friends along the way. :D been a pretty cool time! no pressure tag: @hitheeprithee! let me see your words, boy. thanks for reading, as always. :) <3 till next time.

[teatraps]

You know, when you think about it Kevin’s birthday is actually the furthest from Patricia. It feels close cause December comes right before January when the year starts over, but put it on a calendar and Kevin is the farthest away. I think about it a lot given the way birthdays are used as a tool to show the factions. It feels a little intentional, but maybe I’m reading too deep into it

[nematanthus]

Album Review: amo- Bring Me The Horizon

In collaboration with @arfarfblegh

Release Date:

January 25, 2019

Tracklist:

1. i apologise if you feel something

2. MANTRA

3. nihilist blues (feat. Grimes)

4. in the dark

5. wonderful life (feat. Dani Filth)

6. ouch

7. medicine

8. sugar honey ice & tea

9. why you gotta kick me when i'm down?

10. fresh bruises

11. mother tongue

12. heavy metal (feat. Rahzel)

13. i don't know what to say

Favorite Track:

wonderful life (feat. Dani Filth)

Least favorite track:

in the dark

Album art opinions:

The album cover features an old and worn looking plain CD in a clear bag adorned with red hearts with a torn sticker bearing the albums title. This could be a reference to the band considering this album to be a new beginning of sorts. The blank CD could be anything, contain anything, limitless possibilities, just the same as the bands musical potential. The worn appearance of the whole cover referencing everything the band has done up until now, acknowledging both their history and their infinite possibilities for the future.

Color: 5/10

Recognizability: 4/10

Vibes: 8/10

Total: 6/10

Music opinions/notes:

The band did what the fans feared the most, and made a "pop" album. While this is the furthest the group has strayed away from their deathcore days, they proved that they can sound good no matter what they do. Bringing in lo-fi, trap, beat boxing, and other modern pop and rock sounds. It's also very apparent that Oli is getting more comfortable with his clean singing at this point, since there's very little screaming throughout the album. The artist features also are a nice edition, serving their songs well and making a fantastic experience overall.

Mix: 8/10

Lyrics: 8/10

Instruments: 6/10

Vibes: 8/10

Total: 7/10

Total Score: 7/10