#i just saw my ex friend thrive and now i need to clean myself of his filth

[ramimalekmutual]

sometimes i wish all my ex friends died from spontaneous combustion and their remains are never found

[thiswasinevitableid]

for the meet uglies, sternclay 60 sfw? OwO

Here you go!

60 Sterncly SFW. we’re both on a reality show (like the queer bachelor) where we’re told to be friends but the first time we met, you were incredibly rude and judgmental and I don’t know if I can do this for the damn cameras

“So, Barclay, now that we’re a few days in, what’s your impression of the other contestants?”

“They, uh, they all seem like great guys. We come from a lot of different backgrounds, so that’s kind of interesting to be around but, uh, I live in a place that’s like a big, chosen family, so being in a house with a bunch of types of personalities is kinda, uh, homey.”

“There’s no one you think you’ll struggle with?”

“Uh. Well. I, uh, I don’t like Joseph too much. He came in and he’s so, like, phony from all the years in the FBI. It’s like he’s trying to be polite and charming but really he thinks we’re all idiots for being here. Which, like, buddy, last I checked you signed up for this the same as the rest of us.”

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

“Joseph, any worries about the other contestants?”

“No. I mean, we’re competitors on a dating show, not enemies. I think we’re all trying to show Vincent the best versions of ourselves.”

“There’s no one you’ve had conflicts with?”

“........I, um, Barclay and I got into a small argument earlier about the house rules. But I’m sure if we both stick around long enough we’ll come to an understanding.”

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

“Gentlemen, this cannot continue.” Ned, the producer, sits on the couch across from them. Barclay glares at Joseph, but the other man keeps a cool demeanor. Great, he’s making Barclay look like the big, angry mountain even off camera.

“I thought reality shows needed conflict to thrive.” Joseph cocks an eyebrow.

“They do, but about big things, like love and rivalry. Not how to properly load a dishwasher.”

“I’m just trying to be efficient.”

“My way is perfectly fine.” Barclay snaps, “jesus, I worked in kitchens for years, I know how to get clean plates.”

“That doesn’t make it optimal.”

“Do you have to be right about everything?”

“Gentlemen, you recall we have a housekeeping staff, right?”

“It doesn’t matter” Barclay doesn’t take his eyes off Ned, “we’re supposed to all get along, not all try and prove we’re the smartest guy in the room.”

“See, this is your problem, you need everyone to like you, to see you like a big brother, but you’re missing the fact that at least three of them have decided your gentle giant persona is a threat and they’re trying to oust you.”

“It’s not a persona, it’s just how I am. We aren’t all government shams disguised as men.”

Joseph’s facade cracks for a moment, blue eyes trying to light Barclay on fire.

“Enough.” Ned shakes his head, “you may despise each other as much as you please behind the scenes. In front of the cameras, please try to act as if you’re not ten seconds away from coming to blows. Agreed?”

They trade a final, furious look.

“Agreed.”

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

They’re a little over three weeks in; Vincent is still doing lots and lots of short, individual dates between the group outings, so the contestants have ample time to hang around the house and get on each others nerves.

Case in point: Joseph was right when he warned Barclay that others saw him as a threat. Chad, Alex, Nico, and Rich have all decided to go after him. Just this morning he’s been told he’s not man enough for Vincent (he shooed a wolf spider out of the kitchen with a broom instead of squishing it), too girly (he offered to make cupcakes if people wanted), and too big (who'd want to fuck a six foot tall puppy).

His mood is not helped by Joseph chatting away on the couch about his former job with the FBI. Barclay swears it’s all the asshole knows how to talk about. Maybe it’s time for Barclay to play a game of his own.

“Hey, Joseph.”

The other man turns, black hair perfectly slicked back like he thinks he’s some kind of movie star.

“I bet you ten bucks you can’t make it until eight tonight without talking about your job.”

The other contestants in the room snicker, several even giving Barclay a thumbs up.

Joseph adjusts his shirt sleeves, “You’re on.”

Ten hours later, Barclay is forced to get his wallet. The other man never mentioned the FBI once. In fact, he did Barclay an even bigger favor; he didn’t talk at all.

He finds the agent sitting on the back steps leading into the garden. Stays standing as he holds out the cash, “you win fair and square.”

Joseph looks at the money, then looks away, “I did it to show I could, not for the bet.”

“I mean, you didn’t have to go, uh, quite so hard on the silence thing.”

“I didn’t mean to. But, um, every time I was going to open my mouth, I realized it was somehow related to work. So I kept quiet.” He sighs, stretches out his legs. He’s in slacks, because of course he is, “I must have been so tedious to listen to, no wonder I was driving you up the wall.”

“Joseph-”

“I really am married to my career. I guess it’s not surprising my last chance for love is on a T.V show.”

“Hey, I get it.” Barclay sits down next to him, “when I was first working in commercial kitchens my hours were crazy; I barely saw my apartment, my friends, my boyfriend who pretty quickly became my ex. But it was what I needed to do to build the career I wanted for myself. To do what I loved.”

Only the crickets and the distant waves reply. Then, “You said you were a private chef now, right? Along with writing cookbooks?”

“Yeah. Kinda surprised you remembered.”

“Listening is a major skill in my profession. Besides, it’s polite to pay attention to what people tell you.”

“What’s your job now? You only ever talk about the FBI stuff?”

“Paranormal investigation. I never bring it up because people assume I’m out chasing Bigfoot with a shaky-cam or trying to communicate with haunted dolls.”

“So...what is it instead?”

“Helping people figure out they’re homes aren’t haunted or the monster on their property is just some owls. I like the challenge of solving the mystery, and I like helping people feel safe in they’re homes.”

Loud voices form inside; the caterers must have refilled the bar. He doesn’t really want to go in. It’s too nice out here.

“You wanna hear about the restaurant my coworkers swore was haunted?”

Joseph perks up, turning to face him, “Yes, please.”

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

He’d been really looking forward to beach day. Six guys are already gone, and Vincent has taken his fleet of suitors to the sunny San Diego shores. Barclay is dismayed to find all but three of the other guys have waxed their chests. Joseph hasn’t, but his happy trail is nothing compared to fucking black forest on Barclays torso. Nico’s gotten half the guys to call Barclay “bigfoot.”It makes him feel like he’s back in high school P.E freshman year, and his body image is rapidly sliding into that of a shy fourteen year old.

“Barclay!” Joseph comes jogging out of the surf towards the towels they lay down side by side when they arrived, “you should come in, it’s really the perfect weather for swimming.” He drops onto his towel, black hair a bit mussed. The swim-shorts that he thought were blue with green spots turn out to have not dots, but tiny UFOs on them.

“I, uh, I’m good. I, uh, I burn easily and I don’t think anyone wants to rub sunscreen on my hairy back.”

“Hey, Bigfoot, what’s wrong? Scared of what’ll happen if the cameras get a load of your gut?”

Barclay growls, stares at his toes. Joseph tracks Nico as he finishes jogging by. Then he calmly picks up a frisbee, aims a throw, and knocks his snapback off his head. He’s sitting down before the other man can work out who threw it. Barclay chuckles, but doesn’t get up.

“Bigfoot’s my favorite cryptid.”

“Uh, thanks?”

“And who gives a shit if you have a stomach.”

“Easy for you to say, you’re cut.”

Joseph grabs his sunglasses, “because I like that for my body. I happen to like yours just as much. Um I, I mean, it seems like Vincent likes it.” He tips his head towards the Bachelor, who gives them both a long once-over.

“...Will you do my back?”

“Of course, big guy.” The nickname sounds so right on his tongue it makes Barclay want to set his head in his lap and ask him to pet it.

It’s late afternoon when Ned herds them all onto a boat which promptly steers towards some cliffs. Joseph stays close to Barclay, pleasant expression noticeably tightening the closer they get to the rocks.

“I’ve been dreading this. Cliff diving is not something I’d pick to do on my own.”

“Heights?”

He shakes his head, “Deep water. I know it’s not rational, and I even checked to be sure there hadn’t been large shark sightings in the area, but I can never shake the feeling there’s something waiting just out of sight, ready to surge up and eat me.”

They all climb up together, Vincent staying on the boat to watch them jump (this is technically a friendly competition to show off how brave they are). As they’re turns get closer, Barclay sees Joseph doing deep breathing exercises.

They hit the edge. The agent freezes.

“Shit. I don’t think I can do this.”

“C’mon, where’s my daring special agent?”

Joseph still doesn’t move.

“You, uh, you wanna jump together? Maybe the megaladon or whatever will eat me instead.”

“Megalodons are extinct; we’d know if they weren’t, same as we know Whale Sharks aren’t.”

“They you are.” Barclay murmurs, smiling.

Joseph manages a smile back, “On three?”

“Yep. One, two” he grabs Joseph’s hand “three”

The water rises to swallow them with terrifying speed, but nothing is waiting for them except one very startled fish. They surface together, Joseph laughing triumphantly, hair plaster to his head and sun shining in his ocean eyes.

If Vincent doesn’t pick him, he’s out of his mind.

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

“Ohmylord, we have to play this.” Joseph cannot believe his luck; he figured the barcade group date would mean a lot of solo time, but here’s his favorite game in the whole wide world.

“Monster Hunt?” Barclay laughs as he lets himself be lovingly shoved down into the seat of a cut-out Jeep, “very on brand.”

“They had this at the bowling alley near my house. I’d play when my parents had league night but couldn't get a sitter. I never could beat the Mothman level without a player two.”

He doesn’t have that problem tonight, even with Barclay distractingly delighted and handsome in the seat beside him. After that, they make it their mission to find every two-player game in the thrum of flashing colors and tinny music. He finds they both like the Bowser Bourbon Smash, and somewhere around their fourth, heated game of air hockey they each polish of one too many of them to stay upright without the support of a game, a helpful show staff member, or each other.

When they get back to the house (their fellow contestants all in a similar state to themselves) they manage to make it to Joseph’s room before collapsing into a giggling heap on the bed.

“That, hic, that was fun. Games are, hic, fun.” Barclay blinks at him, “what’re you laughing, hic, at.”

“You, you got the hiccups. S’funny because you’re so big, like, like watching a, a pitbull with a, um, a” he makes a squeezing motion that his sober self would recognize as “squeaky toy.”

“M’not big” Barclay pouts, “I, hic, maybe everyone else is, hic, just small. Ever think of th--hic--at.”

“S’not a bad thing.” Joseph shifts so they’re facing each other, “like how big you are. Makes you sexy.”

Barclay blushes, “you’re, hic, one to, to talk. You’re hot, so, hic, so fucking out. Got, got those eyes. That, hic, that face” He touches Joseph’s cheek, “love your face.”

“Love yours too.” Joseph says, stroking his beard. Then they’re moving in inelegant tandem, grabbing at each others shoulders and faces as their mouths find each other. Barclay is so warm, whimpering when Joseph rolls him on top, nipping his lips and pawing at him like a puppy hoping for a treat. Joseph is going to hold him close and let him have it.

A clatter from below, one of the other men knocking something over in the kitchen, breaks the spell.

“Wait, wait” Joseph reluctantly slides his hands of Barclays ass, “we, drunk, we’re drunk, too drunk.”

Barclay blinks down at him, pouting a little even as he groans “fuck, you’re, you’re right. Wanna, gotta remember this. Don’t wanna” he yawns, “regret it.” The instant he flops onto his back Joseph climbs into his arms and falls asleep to the slow rhythm of his breathing.

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

After that night, they agree to be more careful; they’re here for Vincent, to see if one of them is his true love. That’s what the contract they signed says.

“More careful” turns out to mean watching their alcohol intake around each other and only touching platonically (including falling asleep on the couch together. They wake up to cameras recording their nap. Barclay isn’t sure what Joseph threatens Ned with, but the footage never sees the light of day).

But unless they’re on a solo date with Vincent, they’re by each others side. Barclay teaches Joseph dominoes and how to make biscuits. Joseph introduces him to terrible old horror movies that they watch on his laptop and compliments his cooking every chance he gets.

They must be doing something right, because they move to the next round week after week, Vincent clearly enamored with both of them. Barclay certainly understands the feeling. Just not for the person who he’s supposed to.

“Joseph? If, uh, if neither of us win, what are you gonna do after this.”

“Go back to work. Maybe pitch my book about U.S cryptids.” Joseph’s smile goes shy for a moment before recovering, “but I wouldn’t worry, big guy; I think you’re the front runner for sure.”

Barclay knows for a fact that Joseph is a fan favorite and the suitor most people think will win. Which is why, when Vincent selects his final four, he’s not surprised Joseph gets the first rose. Then everyone but Barclay is holding one and Vincent is touching his shoulder.

“Barclay, please don’t take this as a sign I’m not deeply fond of you. This wasn’t an easy choice but I, well, I feel like your heart may not be in this anymore.”

He takes Vincent’s hand and squeezes it, “It’s okay. It was wonderful just to get to know you. All of you.” He looks at the final four, at Joseph’s calm, polite expression. He meets blue eyes as he says, “I hope you find someone who makes you happy.”

With that he turns, all too aware of the cameras tracking his exit, his face, how he’ll have to do a final interview and not reveal that he’ll hate Vincent forever but not blame him in the slightest if he marries Joseph.

“Wait!”

Every eye, lensed or no, turns back to the gazebo. Joseph is at the edge of the steps, poised to run. When he sees Barclay stop, he turns to Vincent.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t accept this.” He hands the bachelor the rose, “I hope you understand.”

There’s no soundtrack on set, but strings swell in his ears all the same as Joseph descends the stairs and leaps into his arms, kissing him so hard he still has stars in his eyes when he opens them.

“It’s not a marriage proposal” Joseph whispers, kissing his cheek, “but I do have a question for you.” He pulls back, all cameras on them but his attention for Barclay alone, “would you like to be my boyfriend, big guy?”

Barclay rests their foreheads together, “Yeah, babe, I really, really would.”

[niksixx]

Number 73

~Part 2!!! Read Part 1 first please!!!~ 

Requested: By many of you 

Pairing: Axl Rose x Female Reader 

Description: A continuation of part 1!! This fic takes place over the course of about two months. (It’s most likely unrealistic, but when is fanfiction ever real? This also has 2,634 words!!!! I got so carried away lmao ENJOY.) 

Warning: Some cursing and mentions of sex (no smut...yet)

A/N: R E B L O G :) 

*GIF is NOT mine. Found it on Google, so credit goes to the owner!* 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I knew he was an asshole, but fuck that’s cold.”

Nodding at your best friend, you bend down to take a sip of your lukewarm coffee, shrugging. It’s been two days since you last saw Axl. The douchebag was all you could think about; Not even the sex you’d had.

You couldn’t fully place the blame on him. You were naive to think you’d mean anything to him, changing anything between the two of you. Like he said, you were just number seventy-three.

“Was it good at least?”

You grin, fighting the urge to spill all the details. “Hate sex is always good, Y/B/F, but hate sex with Axl? Unbeatable.”

She chuckles. “How many girls do you think he’s fucked since you?”

You think for a moment. “Well, I was seventy-three, so I’d say he’s probably at about seventy-eight now. I’m not mad that he has a lot of sex. I’m pissed off that I let myself be used by a man that doesn’t care about me. I wish other girls could see that, too.”

Commitment wasn’t in Axl’s vocabulary. He simply couldn’t bring himself to be loyal. In the years that you’d known the Guns N’ Roses singer, he’d never been in a relationship. Girls were simply his playthings. They served no purpose to him other than pleasure.

Still, even with his mood swings and deplorable attitude, you couldn’t deny your attraction. But you’d think twice about letting the redhead anywhere near you or your body. You wouldn’t be vulnerable. Not again.

On the way home to your house, you drop off Y/B/F. Before she exits the car, she turns to you, the corners of her mouth raised in a smirk. “So what are you going to do about it?”

“About what?” You ask, fixing your sunglasses in the rearview mirror.

She gives you a look. “Duh, about Axl. He humiliated you. He fucked you and threw you aside like you were nothing. If I were you, I’d give him a taste of his own medicine.”

You drum your fingers on the steering wheel, gears turning in your head. She had a point. “What, like, I should get even?”

Y/B/F shakes her head, eyes wild, and smiles wide. “Oh no, honey. You’re not just going to get even. You’re going to beat him at his own damn game.”

~~~

“Y/N?” Steven yawns, scratching his head as you push past him into the GNR apartment. Glass bottles and cigarettes litter the floor from last night’s party, and the place reeks of alcohol, smoke, and sweat. “What are you doing here?” He follows your eyes to the floor, wincing. “Sorry, I actually just woke up. Axl and Duff started cleaning but they went out to get pizza for lunch.”

“That’s actually perfect,” You’ve been over the apartment plenty of times before, almost as if it’s your own. The boys needed to find their own respective places, though, as four out of the five were ready to settle down. Grabbing a trash bag, you help Steven clean up the rest of the mess. “Look, I need your help. I trust you the most.”

Steven snickers. “Oh, no. Do you know who you’re talking to? I’m not the most reliable.”

“Maybe not,” you say, hands firm on your hips. “But I trust you to keep your mouth shut.”

Steven groans, taking a deep breath before situating himself on the couch. He waves his hand, “Proceed.”

“You all know Axl and I can’t stand each other,” Steven laughs heartily and you shoot him a hard look. “And after a long few days of thinking, I decided that what I hate, even more than Axl, is being used.”

“Yeah, he told me about your little uh…” He makes a face. “I know you had sex, let’s put it that way. You were number seventy-three, he wrote it down.”

“I’m sure I was the topic of--wait,” You furrow your brows, unsure if you’d heard him correctly. “Did you say he wrote it down?”

Steven nods. “Of course he wrote it down. How else would he keep track of all the girls he’s fucked? All the names are in a little brown book under his bed.” Steven’s eyes go wide, realizing his mistake. “I definitely shouldn’t have said that.”

Before Steven can react, you run down the hall and into Axl’s room, rummaging under his bed before your fingers graze a leather cover. You pull it out and flip to the most recent page, and there scribbled in black ink is your name, along with seven other girls’ names from the previous weekend.

“Son of a bitch,” you whisper, thumbing through the other pages. “Shelly Neilson, Diana Fox, Cait Burke, Jade Nichols, Ruby Thompson…”

“Wait a minute,” Steven says, peering over your shoulder. His jaw clenches as he rereads the last name. “Ruby Thompson?”

“What? She an ex or something?” You ask, skimming the first few pages, eyes bulging at the dates. “This book goes back seven years ago. Jesus, Axl.”

You feel Steven’s body tense beside you. You turn, and his face is stone-like. “Ruby Thompson is my goddamn cousin.” Mouth agape, you watch as Steven runs a hand over his face. “That fucking bastard. No wonder he never let any of us see this book.”

“Uh, what’s going on?”

You turn toward the doorway where Slash and his wife stand, eyeing you suspiciously. You give Steven a sympathetic look before turning back toward the door. “I need to find a way to get back at Axl for treating me like shit.”

“Look, I’m not defending him,” Slash begins, earning a warning look from his wife. “But you knew his track record and you still let him fuck you?”

“Okay, technically, because I rode him, I fucked him,” Slash and Steven snicker. “And yes, it was stupid, I realize that now. Having sex with him wasn’t going to fix any animosity between us. But he knows me personally, and he fucking hurt me. I won’t let him get away with it. Not this time.”

“So what’s your plan?” asks Steven.

“That’s why I came here,” you sigh, clutching the book to your chest. “I need your help.”

Slash thinks for a moment. “What does Axl hate more than anything in the world?”

Steven chuckles, shoving his hands in his pockets. “A lot of things. Competition. Second place. Being used,” Steven shoots you a wink. “And Y/N.”

“Exactly. Axl prides himself on having the most sex out of his whole friend group, right?,” Slash says, and his wife grins wickedly when she catches on.

“If we can keep Axl from having sex for a few weeks, that will give you a chance to reach his body count. He hates when others are good at something he’s good at. ” She says. Slash offers an impressive look. “Y/N, what’s your count?”

Your face flushes, and the two men glance at you expectantly. “Seventeen.”

Steven grimaces. “Seriously? We’re going to need at least a month, maybe more.”

“Hey,” Steven cowers when Slash’s wife pins him with a look. “In this house, we don’t shame women for liking sex and having sex just as much as men do. And compared to some men, seventeen is nothing.”

You send her a smile as a thank you. She nods back, grinning proudly.

“Alright, look,” Steven says, lips curling back in a quick smile. “I have three cousins who would love to help you get back at Axl. He crashed the first one’s car, stole money from the second, and slept with the third’s girlfriend. Come to think of it, she might actually be in here,” Steven reads through the book until he stops on a name. “Yep. Here she is. Misty Evans,” he snaps the book closed. “That motherfucker.”

“I have a brother you can use,” Slash’s wife grins. “And he has a lot of friends.” She wiggles her eyebrows excitedly.

“Okay, okay, hold on,” Slash holds up his hands. “It’s a good plan and all, but how in the hell are we going to stop Axl from having sex?”

~~~

73.

For two months, he was stuck at number 73.

Which was, by far, the best sex of his life.

And it just so happens it was with the person he hated most in the world.

Axl couldn’t get it out of his head. The way your eyes looked him up and down, daring him to leave and begging him to stay at the same time. Your soft lips that he was desperate to kiss again and feel on his skin. The breathy moans that were music to his ears. He’d be breaking his rule if he slept with you again, but Axl’s craving for your body had him considering wiping out the rule altogether.

His attempts to get you off his mind continued to fail as more and more women began to reject his advances. One minute he’d strike up a conversation, and the girls would be all for it, but as he returned from the bathroom or from a quick smoke break or the bar with another drink, they avoided him. Shot him dirty looks. Pretended they weren’t just all over him a few minutes prior. He didn’t understand, and it was driving him crazy.

Little does he know, whenever he leaves, you take his place, quickly showing the girls Axl’s book that hides in your purse, before urging them to stay away. So far, every girl that he’s tried to woo into his bed has shunned him. Many of the girls recognize their own friends in Axl’s book, and they promise you to stay away from him. It was dirty, it was evil, but no one ever wins by playing a fair game.

While he was constantly facing rejection, you were thriving. Axl noticed that whenever you came out with the group, men flocked to you instantly, more than they had before.  You’d barely said three words to him since the night you’d slept together, and hadn’t even looked him in the eye.

He’d buy you drinks, only for you to mutter a quick thanks without returning the favor. Despite not being the best dancer, he’d offer you his hand at the clubs, only to be met with laughter from his bandmates as you accepted another man’s offer. And what blew his mind? Many of the guys looked...familiar.

From his seat at the booth, Axl could see a man shamelessly flirting with you at the bar. He grit his teeth, hand clenching around the bottle in front of him.

“Uh, dude?” Duff signals to the beer. “If you want to practice your chokehold, I’m sure there are plenty of chicks in here who would be more than willing to help you out, if you know what I mean.”

Axl’s eyes never left you. “What the hell is going on with Y/N?”

“What do you mean?” Steven asks innocently, shooting Slash a sly grin. “She’s having a drink at the bar.”

Axl turns to Steven, narrowing his eyes. “I can see that, you dumbass. I mean, why the hell hasn’t she spoken to me?”

“The hell do you care?” Izzy answers, taking a swig of his tequila. “You hate each other anyway.”

“I just don’t think I’ve ever seen her so...relaxed.” Axl remarks, bringing his beer to his lips.

“I mean, I’d be too if I was having as much sex as she was,” Slash grins, dropping a teasing wink in his wife’s direction.

Axl pauses, brows drawn together. “What the fuck do you mean?”

Hesitantly, Slash’s wife clears her throat, chiming into the conversation for the first time that night. “Alright, look, this does not leave the table, hear me?” When everyone nods, she continues. “I promised I’d keep this to myself, but Y/N’s had sex with twenty guys in the past five days.”

Axl’s eyes nearly roll out of his head when the table laughs. He seems to have missed what was funny.

“No shit!” Duff laughs, clapping his hands together.

“That’s fucking impressive,” Izzy smirks.

“So what does that bring her count to total?” Steven asks, fully aware of Axl’s bright red face. He laughs to himself. The singer was hopeless, making it way too easy for the group to fuck with him.

“Seventy bodies,” Slash’s wife cocks her head to the side. Something about her words, her gesture, is taunting. “How many did you say you had again, Axl?”

“Seventy-three,” he says through gritted teeth.

“Wait,” Izzy and Slash say together, “You haven’t fucked anyone since Y/N?”

“Dude, that was over two months ago,” Duff says in a teasing manner.

“It’s not like I haven’t fucking tried!” Axl exclaims, slamming his palm down on the table. He takes a deep breath, finding his composure, and lowers his voice. “I keep getting rejected and I don’t fucking know why.”

“Oh, the horror,” Izzy says, rolling his eyes. “All will be right in the world when Axl finds some random chick to bang.”

Slash and his wife snicker and share a look. Axl shakes his head. He senses something is wrong, but he can’t call anyone out without proof.

Something about you having almost the same amount of bodies as him didn’t sit right. No one in his life even came close. Then again, no one was so obsessed with sex like Axl was. No one was so open about their sex life.

Against his better judgment, Axl finds himself striding toward the bar, visibly irritated as the man next to you rests his palm right above your ass. Axl grabs the man’s wrist and pulls it from your body, pushing him away from you. He ignores the man’s protests, throws back the rest of whatever piss warm beer the dude had been drinking, flips him off, before turning back to you.

The shock on your face is evident. “There is something seriously wrong with you. What the hell, Axl?”

“Seventy bodies?” Axl says, voice condescending. “Some prostitutes don’t even have that many.”

Your blood boils and you swear to yourself you see red. The audacity of this man to shame you. “I see you’re still a dick. What the hell does it matter to you, huh? What’s your problem?”

“My problem?” Axl’s laugh is light, breathy, as he restrains himself from screaming. “My problem is that I haven’t fucked something in two months. I’m going fucking feral.”

“Seems like a you problem,” you retort, puckering your lips before taking a drink. Axl’s book suddenly feels heavy in your purse. You sneak a look to make sure the purse is properly zipped before glancing back to the fuming redhead. “What would you like me to do about it?”

It all comes out in a rush. “I don’t know! Suck my dick, ride me, do something!” Axl cringes when you giggle, face heating. Holy fucking desperate.

“Are you...is Axl Rose...begging?”

He throws his head back in annoyance. This wasn’t going as planned. “I--no. Fuck. Ignore that. Can’t we just go back to my place or something?”

“I thought you didn’t fuck the same girl twice?” You remind him of his words, and you can tell by his face he regrets saying them.

But he remains cool, standing up straight, all the while contradicting his previous statement. “I don’t.”

Finishing your drink, you set it to the side. Batting your lashes, you step forward, a mere centimeter apart from Axl’s face. His breath is raggedy, lips parted, and you see it coming. He leans forward to kiss you, but you’re too quick. Brushing your lips against his ear, palm flat against his chest, you utter the words as confidence floods your veins. “If you don’t want the same pussy twice, then what makes you think I want the same dick twice?”

[psyleedee]

Turning An Old Page. (Dean×Castiel.)

Words: 2k.

Pairing: Dean W.× Castiel.

by psyleedee.

Dean tapped on the man's broad shoulder and watched as his back muscle flexed when he turned around.

Cas's eyes blew wide and his mouth parted open, as he met Dean's eyes. God, he looked just as beautiful as he did before. Dean could even trace the fine lines around his eyes and forehead, and well, even though he was aging, he looked more than better. His hair was messed up just like it used to be before, and Dean wanted to reach out and brush his fingers through it.

"Hey."

Dean croaked, his voice barely audible.

It's not easy, y'know, facing someone you know you've hurt so much.

Cas pressed his hips back against the kitchen counter as if trying to move back from Dean. Mindlessly, Dean's eyes wandered over Cas's lips and he reminisced about a time, when he could claim them whenever he wanted and it would leave his ex-fiance a blushing mess.

"Hey..."

Cas mumbled softly, and Dean managed to give him an awkward little smile, playing with his fingers to press down his nervousness.

That voice... Nothing had changed except for the fact that Cas looked a little older. More mature.

Dean somehow attempted to look up at him, his eyes drifting over Cas's plush pink lips, his bright cheeks and-

And those beautiful blue eyes.

Dean had promised himself he would move on from those. But he couldn't. He simply couldn't. Because those eyes... they had beamed with pride when he had graduated, even though Cas had graduated with him as well; they had filled with affection and excitement when he proposed, slipping a shiny gold ring over Cas's fingers; they had filled with worry, the first time he had gone too far with his drinks, and then they eventually became hollow with pain, brimming with tears when Cas had quietly slipped the golden ring off his finger and placed it in Dean's hands.

"I, uhm-"

Dean swallowed anxiously, eyes averting towards the cold drink in Cas's hand.

"How are you, Dean?"

Cas asked, his voice was low, but something about the calm way Cas had asked him reminded Dean of the day Cas had sat Dean down and questioned him about his health.

"I'm good Cas... You?"

Dean finally relaxed, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his jacket and resting his body against the edge of the island counter.

"I'm good too..."

Cas nodded slowly, raising the drink to his lips and taking a small sip.

"I... I didn't think you'd want to talk to me..."

Dean muttered. It was the truth, Dean was paranoid about the whole thing. Why would Cas talk to him? Would he even spare a glance when he saw Dean? He needed answers. Now was the time.

"I... neither did I... But here we are." Cas scoffed, eyes wandering down Dean's chest.

"So, uh, how's life?" Dean shrugged, pressing his lips tightly before looking up at Cas, meeting his eyes.

Castiel nodded his head and twitched his lip.

"Normal... Kind of... I published a few books last year, got promoted to editor-in-chief at the news agency. Started yoga, watched some shows... Pretty fine..." Cas sipped his drink and glanced at Dean. "You?"

"It's okay... a little empty without someone to love..."

Oh god. Why did I say that? Cas must think I'm a clingy little jerk.

"True..." 

Cas eyes traveled over Dean's arms, up to his neck, and to his eyes. Dean caught and held his gaze, and for just a moment, everything fit right into place. Cas gave him another weak smile, but this time Dean could see how close his facade was to breaking down.

Home.

That was what Cas used to be for Dean. The bright smile plastered to his face when Dean would come home from work, drained and exhausted; but that smile would boost him up like electricity; the way Cas would bury himself in Dean's arms, pulling them both down on the couch until they were so engrossed in making out, that the only thing that could separate them was the faint burning smell coming from the kitchen. Cas would push Dean off and run to the kitchen as Dean laughed his ass off. Even the smallest things reminded him of Cas these days. Like the miniature Eiffel Tower statue placed on Dean's dresser, the one Dean had bought him in Paris, when they had gone for their first ever trip. It never failed to make Dean smile, when he looked at it, reminiscing about all the time they had spent there together.

Pain.

That was what Cas reminded Dean of, now. The veiled look of sorrow in Cas's deep blue eyes when Dean had woken up, drunk and passed out on the couch, empty rum and whiskey bottles lying on the table. The quivering, shaking of Cas's harsh voice as he yelled at Dean, the underlying grief not so subtle. The way Cas had furiously packed his bag, weeks after Dean had been drinking his life to shit.  The soft 'I can't do this, Dean... I can't keep cleaning up your mess', that kept buzzing through Dean's mind. How Cas had taken his ring off, just a month before their marriage; his wet, tear-stained face glaring at Dean as he sobbed, yelling at Dean to get his life back before he lost everything. Dean hadn't been able to bear it... He just couldn't...

Dean snapped out of his thoughts.

It had been more than a year now. One year, five months, four days.

"You seeing anyone?" Dean asked nonchalantly.

Cas faltered slightly, shrugging and shaking his head.

"Not really... Just a few dates with a man I met at this writer's meet a few months ago... Nothing much, really." Cas drank the remains of his cup and placed it next to him on the counter.

"Huh..." Dean stepped forward, his body moving into Cas's space. Cas visibly tensed up, his back straightening, eyes flickering down Dean's lips and up to his eyes.

Dean, however, looked down at his feet, before pulling one of his hands out of his pocket, and looking up at Cas. But this time, Cas could clearly see the resolution in his eyes. 

"I wanted to give you something. I needed to." Dean whispered softly. At that moment, he cared for nothing except Castiel. He did not care for the muffled music playing in the living room, or the faint non-stop chatter that went on around them in the dining area. The kitchen was empty, save for themselves, and the only lights were dim blue light fixtures. Dean was pretty sure Africa by Toto was playing softly outside, but he didn't care. 

"What?" Cas asked, eyes searching Dean's. 

Before Dean could stop himself, he brushed his closed fist against Cas's palm, pressing the contents of his hand into Cas's. Dean glanced up at Cas to see his expressions change instantly after being handed the small-

"Wha-"

Cas brought his hand up, unfurling his fist to reveal a small, bronze-colored chip. Cas brought it up close to his eyes to examine it. Dean watched as Cas examined it, before gasping softly. He jerked his head towards Dean, mouth still parted and eyes intrigued.

"A- a sobriety chip?"

Dean nodded and gave Cas a shy smile. Cas flipped it over and examined it again, silently reading the engravings on it. 

"For a year?" Cas questioned, finally turning to Dean.

"Yeah..."

"Oh god... Dean that's... that's commendable, really..." Cas smiled at Dean and slid his hand over Dean's cheek, cupping his jaw. The touch almost electrocuted Dean, and he swore he saw sparks fly out Cas's hand. God, why'd he have to do that? Cas's smile was wide and genuine like the one Dean was so in love with. 

"Thanks..." Dean smiled, not able to contain himself. A feral, careless part of him wanted to swoop Cas into his arms and kiss him until they couldn't breathe. But his more conscious mind knew better. Cas and he... they were... they were nothing. They had been before, the best of friends, the most passionate of lovers and the sweetest of fiances' until Dean had to go and... and mess it all up.

"I don't... I don't understand...?"

Cas eyed the chip strangely before turning to Dean again. They were close, oh, so close, Dean could practically count Cas's eyelashes.

He took a deep breath, letting his hand fall against Cas's as he nuzzled into Cas's touch. Their fingers played quietly with each other's.

"You know Cas... people say, you don't really know what something is worth until you lose it...  And I-" Dean sighed, "-it's true... After you left Cas, I didn't know what to do... I tried calling you, again and again and again-"

"I needed time, Dean-"

"I don't blame you... I mean, if I could go back in time, I'd probably punch myself in the face and tell myself to cut the bullshit and, and get going, y'know... But you... you were there with me for so long... even when it hurt you... For the longest time... Just cleaning up after me, no matter what... you didn't deserve that... you deserved someone who would've loved you, cared for you, not sulk down all day and keep drinking cause his father was an overall asshole... You were so strong for me and I never realized just how much I needed you until you left..."

Dean brought his left hand up, holding onto Cas's hand over his jaw. Tears brimmed in his eyes, and Dean sniffed.

"I didn't know what to do Cas, I mean, not in a metaphorical way but really... I didn't show up to work... I used whatever money I had for beer and I'd pass out on the floor. I couldn't pay the bills, I couldn't eat... It was such a mess... And dad, on top of that... And, you know I kept thinking to myself how much I wanted you back... how much I regretted letting it get that worse..."

Dean paused for breath, eyes fixed onto Cas's. He stroked his thumb over Cas's wrist gently, lips quivering slowly.

"Four months Castiel. It took me four months to realize what I needed to change. Every day I'd look at our pictures, and your ring and I'd think, I'm probably the biggest fool to exist on earth to even think of letting you go..." Dean scoffed and looked down mindlessly. 

"So I started a new job... Used some of my savings to y'know, kinda push myself up, got into an Alcoholics Anonymous group, started being regular to that, just- just started getting my shit together... Not as fast though... I'm still thriving on a month's salary but I'm here, and I'm standing- I'd call that progress..."

Cas smiled at that, his lips parting as if he wanted to say something. 

"-But there's still... there's still something missing Cas... y'know what I'm saying?"

Cas nodded quietly, and Dean wiped his own cheek. 

"I'm good, technically, yeah... I mean I have a stable job now, no alcohol or cigarettes or whatever, I've got enough money to maintain my house... but I- I need you Cas... I don't know how long I can stay alone, just thinking of when we were together... Cause I can't... I  don't know how to not love you... and I can't help it..."

Dean trailed off, yet more tears streaming down his cheek. 

"D-Dean-"

Cas finally spoke up, and Dean glanced up at him, noting the crack in his voice. Cas's eyes were visibly glassy, and a tear rolled down his cheek.

"Look- I'm not asking you to say yes immediately, or leave everything and move in with me. I'm not even asking you to go back to how it was... I'm just asking you to consider it... Once-" 

Dean breathed out shakily, eyes shutting as he rested his forehead against Cas's. Cas's breath was hot and shaky against his cheek, but even then, after all these years, Dean melted when Cas's other hand reached up around his neck, stroking his nape delicately.

"Cas..."

"Just kiss me... please..."

Cas muttered and that's all it took to completely shatter the thick wall of self-control Dean had built so meticulously. 

Dean pulled his hands away, only to slide them down Cas's thighs, and push him up on the counter. Their lips met so flawlessly as if nothing had changed, as if they were what they had always been. Dean's lips tasted every inch of Cas's mouth, relishing in the taste of the sweet drink that Cas had been drinking, shoving his tongue everywhere and anywhere he could. Cas reciprocated just as warmly, hands squeezing Dean's neck and shoulder as he pushed his mouth deeper onto Dean's, carefree, no matter what was happening. Dean ran his hand through Cas's hair, tilting his face and devouring as much as he could of Cas's mouth.

Their chests collided, pressing and pulling away rhythmically as they rocked together, faces practically melting into each other's. For a brief moment, Cas pulled away to catch his breath, panting and huffing.

Dean huffed as well, regaining his breath, and smiled, as wide as he possibly could.

"I missed you..."

Cas murmured, and nudged his nose onto Dean's cheek fondly, kissing the corner of Dean's lips, stroking his back affectionately.

"I missed you too, angel."

Dean murmured, heart finally full and pieced back together.

[starwitch3000]

What’s Your Story - 5

Pairing: Peter Quill x Reader

Summary

Warning: language 

masterlist - ff.net

chapter four

You took a couple of vacation days that you have saved up at work so you can get the rest of your apartment cleaned, also you just needed a break from that place. Luckily they didn’t ask any questions when you sent in the request and they just accepted it. That night when you destroyed you bookshelf with Bucky and your new found friends everyone had stayed to make sure the mess was cleaned up but you had left everything else for yourself. After stacking all of your books into against the wall, you found this to be your biggest task, you sort of left everything scattered about wherever you could find a place for it.

You ordered some new shelving online yesterday, the day after destroying the old shelf, so all you had to do was wait for those to come in and you can have a better place for your things.

When you were sitting down with your second cup of coffee that morning re-alphabetizing the books your door buzzer rang.

It couldn’t possibly be the stuff you ordered and you weren’t expecting anyone to come over at this time so confused you headed over to the com and asked who it was.

“It’s Peter uh Quill,” Peter’s voice awkwardly rang through the small speaker, “Sorry I know it’s a little early but I just needed someone to talk to.”

“Say no more come on up.” You buzzed him in and grabbed a sweater to cover the fact that you were still in your pajamas while you waited for him to make it to your door also grabbing your cup of coffee from where you left it on the floor. You opened it on his first knock and greeted him with a smile, “come on in.”

He enters your apartment and he can’t help but take a look around before turning to you after you’ve closed the door, “I’m sorry again. I’m just having a really shitty morning.”

“Don’t apologize,” you waved him off, “I don’t mind. You want some coffee? I just made some.”

He accepts your offer and follows you into your small kitchen. After getting him situated with a mug you lean against the counter as he fixes himself up some coffee.

“So what’s the story this morning?” You ask cupping your warm mug in your hands watching his lips quirk up momentarily.

Peter sighs turning to lean against the counter facing you, “My foster dad and I have just been fighting since last night and it sounds dumb but everyone else I know is just going to either side with him or tell me some “everything is going to be okay” bullshit. And I just couldn’t wait for you to stumble into my bar again.”

You frown titling your head slightly, “What’s going on?”

“He wants me to sign ownership of the bar over to him,” he spats angrily.

“What? Why?” this feels a little out of left field despite not really knowing anything about his foster dad, but wasn’t he the one to tell Peter to open the place to begin with?

“Because business hasn’t been great lately which I get it’s mostly my fault,” He rubs his neck staring down at the coffee in his hand, “Ever since my ex and I officially split and she stopped showing up at the bar I lost a lot of regulars that just came for her I guess. You could also say that I haven’t been the friendliest lately but I’m just trying to get over it you know.”

You nod sympathetically, “Yeah I do, but why does he want ownership all of a sudden?”

Peter shrugs, “He just offered to help out at first but then he made it pretty clear that his price for helping is going to be me signing over the bar to him. I just… I can’t believe he would do something like this. He was the only person to encourage me to open up that place and just because I’m going through a rough patch he just wants to take it all away!”

Peter huffed looking a little shocked at himself for raising his voice. You didn’t mind though, he was mad and rightfully so. Peter has also let you vent numerous times to him since meeting him so the least you could do was let him do the same.

“So he’s mad you just won’t roll over and give the bar to him?” You ask.

Peter nods.

“Good,” you nod mulling over the information given to you, “I think it’s good that you’re standing your ground.”

He shakes his head looking defeated, “I could really use his help though.”

“Do you though?” You ask, “I mean sure he’s the one who encouraged you to open the bar in the first place, but everything you did was all you. I mean unless you’re standing here telling me that the only thing that can keep that place running is your foster dad and your ex then that’s just pathetic man. You need to get your head out of your ass and keep hold of what you want. Eventually things will start to feel better and you’ll be glad you never gave up that bar. I believe you have it in you to turn things around.”

He was silent taking in your every word. You felt a little shocked at how the words just tumbled out of you like that, maybe you were a little harsh. Maybe you should apologize.

“Well shit (Y/N),” Peter sighs and smiles, “You really know how to give me a taste of my own medicine.”  

You smile and shrug taking a sip of your coffee instantly feeling relieved that he wasn’t mad.

“What can I say I’m a woman of many talents.”

“I’ll say,” He chuckles to himself drinking his coffee, “You’re right though. I definitely need to own up and get my shit together.”

“Baby steps man. Not to worry though I’m always here to speak the truth. Although maybe I should just give you my number so you’re not just showing up here at random hours because I’m not always home,” you say setting down you coffee mug after taking one last drink.

“I said I was sorry,” he says but you wave him off again for it leaving the kitchen to find your phone.

“I said don’t worry about it. You just got lucky catching me is all,” finding your phone on the mess that is your dining room table you found that Peter had followed you and you both took a seat by the messy table.

“Lucky is definitely the word I would use,” he smirks looking over your appearance, pajama shorts cover in kittens and shooting stars, an oversized sweater and mismatched socks.

“It’s 8 am and I’m not working today give me a break,” You roll your eyes handing him your phone to let him put his contact info in it, “Who does stuff at this hour. Honestly what are you even doing up don’t you run a bar?”

“I napped it’s how I thrive.” still looking smug he nods at the mess on your table, “What is all this?”

“I’m a very chaotic writer,” You inform him tapping you hand against the table, “This right now is my book.”

“Wow,” He chuckles typing in his info, “Well I’m not an expert but how can you get anything done?”

“Well that’s the fun part,” you explain, “you see, I could keep everything neat and organized but where is the fun in that? Why would I deprive myself of the many panic induced moments of not being able to find something I had just moments ago. Or knowing that I have tucked away about something not being able to find it but being able to find something else and working on a different part of the book.”

“So what you’re telling me is that you’re a psychopath.”

“I think just crazy will do it’s not that extreme.”

He laughs, “got it. Since when are you and Mantis texting?”

You tilt your head as he hands your phone back to you and you pull down your notifications seeing a text from her that must have just been sent, “Oh the other night with the bookshelf. We were drunk and crying over snapchat filters. We were coming up with ideas for some new ones so we exchanged numbers to send more ideas to each other.”

“She send a new one?” he asks.

“You didn’t read it?” You question coyly as you send his number a quick text so he has yours.

“I just saw her name okay I’m not that invasive.”

You laugh shaking your head opening your message from her, “Well apparently she wants a filter that makes lava pour out of your mouth. You know like the rainbow one but lava.”

He shakes his head, “Yeah I’m good not looking into what that could possibly mean about her mental state.”

“She’s probably fine,” you say setting your phone down on the table, “So, feeling better?”

Peter sighs, “I mean I’m still mad at him but you’re right. I don’t need him to fix this. Especially if he just wants to take it away from me.”                                                   

You grin happy for him, “Great! So you want to go grab some breakfast?”

“Only if you’re going like that,” He says grinning at your pajamas once again.

“Alright get out I don’t want to go anywhere with you now,” you shake your head getting up and heading towards your room while he laughs.

chapter six

[lalka-laski]

Have you ever hugged someone for over a minute? Oh yes, especially in Glenn’s family. Those hugs last for eternity!

Would you ever get a tattoo on your collar bone? No way. My collar bones are my favorite body part so I want them to stay front and center. 

Would you take the 3 minute beatdown to be in a gang? Uh no Do you check your texts right away when you receive them? Most of the time. Although that doesn’t mean I reply right away...

Has the last person you texted ever been mad at you before? She’s my sister so I mean, of course. 

Have you ever searched for your house on Google Earth? Mhm! I don’t know why that’s so fun for some reason 

How old do you look? Definitely much younger than I am. Maybe early 20′s tops.

Do you like movie nights? Love them! Just this past weekend Kathleen, Allie & I watched all three Hallowteen movies (accompanied by loads of snacks) and it was a blast! 

Is there a trampoline in your backyard? Nope

Does the thought of having children scare you? Well, sure. I worry about the potential complications and of course, all the hardships of pregnancy, delivery and parenting. But the prospect excites me just the same! 

Are you nice to everyone? I think so. I’ve been told that even when I try to be mean, I’m nice. 

Would you rather date someone older than you or younger? Well Glenn is 12 years older than me, so...

Are you excited for anything happening in the next week? Quite a lot! We have a fun-filled week. Tonight we have a bonfire with Glenn’s cousin, tomorrow we have dinner with his two friends, Thursday we have dinner with my sister, her new boyfriend & my parents, and then Saturday we’re attending his sister’s gig! Busy bees! 

What will you be doing in the next 2 hours? I’ll be here at work for the next 9ish hours. I foresee a LOT of surveys in my future...

Who did you talk to on the phone last? A client 

Does it make you uncomfortable when you receive a compliment? I thrive on compliments. Just one “small” compliment can have me beaming for the rest of the day. 

When you are home alone at night and hear strange noises, are you afraid someone is going to break in? UH YES. 

Do you wake up cranky? Almost always, yep. I just love my sleep! 

What is on your wrists right now? Nothing.

Are you a beach, country, or city person? Hmm.. I guess I’m more suited for city living but I still love me a good day at the beach! The country is not quite my cup of tea though. 

Are you an official couple with the last person you kissed? We are an ENGAGED couple, in fact :) 

Looking back, did you ever think you would be where you are now? Never ever. I never thought I’d have this kind of love and I certainly never thought I’d have this ring on my finger! But here we are. 

Do you like someone? Ha, you might say that :P 

Are you happier now or three months ago? NOW! 

What’s the greatest thing that happened to you today? Well, it’s only 7:23 am and all I’ve done today is get up and come to work. Not much “greatness” happening here.

How old do you think you will be when you finally have kids? Well, I’m going to be 30-31 when I get married & I anticipate kids a couple years after that. 

Are you waiting for something? I want to say I’m waiting for this day to be over but it’s way too early to even mention that. Sigh... 

If you could change your eye color would you? I love my eye color, actually. It’s one of the few features on myself that I *wouldn’t* change. 

What was the weather like today? So far it’s a crisp, fall day. My ideal weather! 

Do you think you’ll be married in ten years? I can confidently say I WILL be. 

Does your ex still love/like you? I know one of them has feelings for me but that’s not my problem. 

Are you stubborn? Just the opposite, actually. I’m too easily swayed. 

Do you tend to hold a grudge? Now that I can do! 

Where were you at 9am this morning? It’s only 7:30 now, so yes I will be. 

How has the week been? Pretty damn wonderful! Well, aside from my digestive issues and the puking I did last night and this morning. 

Did you go out or stay in last night? We went out for Moe’s and then spent the rest of the night cozy at home. 

Something you do a lot? Worry

How many states have you lived in? Just one

Can you commit to one person? I am currently, and will be for the rest of my life 

Who was the last person to hold your hand? Glenn

How many chances do you tend to give people before enough is enough? Probably way too many. I can be a bit of a pushover and a self-blamer.  Do you think you and your best friend will be friends in 10 years? I know so 

What do you miss most about your ex? Not one single thing. Funnily enough, I just had a convo with Glenn last night about how I don’t understand what the appeal of my last relationship was. Nothing about it was good. 

Are you attracted to the last person that kissed you? I sure am! 

What’s a fact about the last person you kissed? He’s an extremely skilled musician, martial artist and acupuncturist. Yeah, I got me a well-rounded man!

Something you really want right now? I wouldn’t mind being home and back in bed

How long have you liked the person you like? About 3 years, give or take! 

Does any part of your body hurt right now? My tummy, slightly 

Did anyone see you kiss the last person you kissed? Nope

Can you recall the last time you liked someone? Right now 

Are you happy with the way things are going? ABSOLUTELY 

Do you think you will be in a relationship 3 months from now? Of course. After all, we are engaged. Have I mentioned that?? I will never stop mentioning that! 

What plans do you have for tomorrow? I have the day off from work so I’m hoping to do a little laundry and cleaning, then Glenn and I have dinner with some friends. 

Has a friendship ended recently that you wish hadn’t? Not recently 

Have you ever given your ALL to someone who walked away? Mhm. But now I see that it all served a greater purpose.

Have you ever kissed the last person you texted? Not a KISS kiss

Do you and your last ex hate each other? I don’t care for him but I don’t think I’d say I HATE him. Although I’d be entirely justified if I did.

When was the last time you were sick? Well I puked a little bit this morning so uh.. does that count? 

Are you one of those people who are always cold? I’m always overheated 

Do you tend to waste a lot of money? Nah, I’m pretty good with my money

Have you ever regretted kissing someone? Ohhhh yes

When was the last time you got a haircut? A few months ago. I’m overdue! 

Did you sing at all today? Not as of yet.

Would you rather be able to control the weather or control traffic? The weather 

Do you own any articles of clothing with skulls on it? Nope, that’s not really my style. 

Are you faster at text messaging or typing on the computer? I’m freakishly fast at both 

If you won a trip to a nude beach would you go or give the trip away? I’d go just for the experience! Besides, I’m comfortable with nudity.

Tongue piercings - cute or trashy? They’re not my style but I don’t think they’re trashy. They can look cool on the right person. 

When it comes to jeans: skinny, flared or boot cut? Skinny jeans/jeggings ONLY

Would you rather be a star ballerina or a star break dancer? I don’t have the figure to be a ballerina so I guess I’d choose break dancer? Ha, could you imagine! 

When it comes to Baseball would you rather be on the field or in the stands? In the stands, no doubt. Baseball games are actually quite fun! 

I’ve got to know, who do you prefer: Mario or Luigi? No preference 

Have you ever changed clothes in a public area (not a dressing room)? Many a time

How many months apart is your birthday from your best friends? I have several best friends. And actually, a few of them have birthdays very close to mine. 

Yes or no: Techno music? Nah

Yes or no: pigtails? On a little kid? Sure. But on myself? Creepy 

They say diamonds are a girls best friend; what do you say? This pink sapphire and diamond band on my finger are my new best friends! 

Has anybody ever told somebody one of your secrets? Mhm 

Have you ever kissed anybody who had a mustache? I do daily

If you were famous do you think you could handle the popularity? No way. I could never handle the scrutiny, the criticism and the lack of privacy. 

Have you ever kissed someone whose name started with a letter P? I don’t think so actually

Did you talk to one of your best friends today? What did you talk about? I’m talking to my sister right now 

Do you get on better with funny or serious people? Eh, that’s hard to say

Do you have mood swings around the time of the month? I have them even when it’s not the time of the month

Have your friends met the last person you kissed? A lot of them have but there’s still several who have yet to meet him. We’re hoping to have an engagement party so everyone can do so there! 

What if you saw your best friend holding hands with your ex? None of my friends would ever 

Your last relationship, who dumped who? He dumped me. But it turned out to be a great blessing! 

How old were you when you had your first boyfriend/girlfriend? I was 17 when I had my first actual relationship 

Is your hometown nice? I think so. It’s considered one of the “shoddier” suburbs of my city but I love it and much prefer it to the wealthier suburb that I moved to as a teen. 

What if you got stuck in a lift with the last person who Facebook messaged you? He’s my fiance so I’d be more than ok with that. (I’d need him there to keep me calm, actually) 

When/where did your last hug take place? Yesterday in my bedroom 

Do you consider yourself mature enough to make your own decisions? You would think at my age I would be buuuut, it’s questionable

Have your parents ever told you about their love lives, and any previous relationships they had before they met? I actually don’t know as much about their lives before us as I’d like to. They’re both kind of reserved with that information. 

You get a text from someone saying that they want to hang out - who would you most like it to be from? Kathleen, I’m sure 

Do you and your friends have any inside jokes? Way too many 

Do you think someone has feelings for you? Are these feelings returned? I have a pretty good feeling Glenn does ;)

What if the last person you texted were to ask you out? That would be disturbing on multiple levels

Do you believe in love at first sight? Explain. I believe in fate so I do think you can feel a life-changing connection with someone just from locking eyes for the first time. But that’s just me. 

Would you prefer to be somewhere else right now? If so, where? And why would you prefer to be there? I’d like to be in bed. But when don’t I? 

Can you remember what you dreamt about last night? I remember some snippets of it

What’s one thing about today that you didn’t like? I don’t like waking up this early and I certainly don’t like vomiting on my way into work. 

Who is the last person that you said i love you to, besides family members? Glenn 

Are you mad at anyone right now? Nope

Is there one thing all of your ex’s had in common? Not really. I’ve dated quite a range of dudes and have never had a particular “type” 

What’s a compliment you receive often? That I’m sweet and kind 

Have you ever had a friend that got a bf/gf, and then completely ignored you? When we were young and didn’t know how to balance relationships and friendships

Would you ever go back to any of your past relationships? NOT A CHANCE

Who was the last person to comfort you when you were upset or crying? Glenn. I had a panic attack last Saturday and he was so gentle and reassuring. He gives me all the time and space I need to feel better.  Do you prefer to text or talk on the phone? Texting all day 

Do you know anyone that’s gotten an abortion before? Uh huh

Do you think you could forgive someone for cheating on you? I stupidly have before. I’d like to go back in time and smack my younger self upside the head!

Have you ever been arrested? Nope

Who’s the last person that gave you roses? I actually don’t think I’ve ever received roses. 

Do you still talk to the first person you kissed? No way What if you had a baby with the last person you kissed? Well we plan to in a few years time

Do you have a picture of you kissing someone? Mhm

Who was the last person to comment one of your pictures? Who knows. We got a flood of comments on our engagement posts/pics. 

Have you learned from your past mistakes? Hardly ever. But wouldn’t it be great if I did? 

Who’s the last guy you texted? Glenn 

What about the last girl? Kathleen 

Who was the last person to make you cry? Glenn, although they of course were happy tears

What is one quality that you really appreciate in a person? Compassion

When was your first real relationship? Didn’t I just answer this? 

Have you ever cried over an ex? That’s pretty much all I do when I’m going through a breakup 

Do you ever think about your ex and cry? Not anymore. I look back with gratitude (and some confusion). 

Is there anyone in your life who you won’t ever want to lose? All of my loved ones  Have you ever snuck out of your house? Yep 

Have you ever snuck someone into your house? Sort of 

Have you ever kissed someone of the same sex? Yep 

How many people have you kissed? I’ve never counted 

What’s the craziest thing you’ve done on a dare? I almost always choose “truth.” Not that I have played Truth or Dare recently by any means 

Have you ever cussed someone out? Yep 

Have you ever had a friend-with-benefits? Yep Have you ever spread a nasty rumor about someone? No, but I have been on the receiving end of that

Have you ever broken someone’s heart? So I’ve been told 

Have you ever been physically abused? Arguably 

Is there something really bad that you’ve done, that only YOU know about? Hm, there’s at least one other person who knows about all the bad shit I’ve done 

Does it take a lot to make you feel guilty? Not at all 

Have you ever broken a really important promise? Yes

Have you ever gone out with a best friend’s ex? No way

Have you ever made out with someone who was just a friend? Yes 

Have you ever cheated on a test? Yes, these questions are boring me 

Have you ever told someone’s deep, dark secret? I don’t think so. I HOPE not. 

Do you ever lie to make yourself sound better? I guess we all have at some point

Have you ever made up a false rumor to get back at someone? Nope 

Have you ever gotten in a fist fight? Nope

Have you ever purposely hurt yourself? Yeah 

Have you ever caused someone major embarrassment? I’m sure I have 

Have you ever pushed someone into a pool? I don’t think so. Maybe as a kid 

Have you ever got in a fight with someone and never made up? I don’t think I have any lingering bad blood with anyone. But who knows

Have you ever copied someone else’s homework? I’m sure at some point

Have you ever skipped school to do something more fun? I wouldn’t say “fun” but I’ve skipped school to stay in bed

Have you ever skipped school to get out of a test? Nope 

Have you ever kissed someone the same day you met them? Yes

What’s under your bed? We have drawers full of clothes and blankets

What’s on that way top shelf or in the very far back of your closet? There’s an assortment of stuff in boxes: mostly seasonal clothes, purses and jewelery that I don’t wear 

Do you have a super-secret hiding place and what’s in it? I do not 

Have you done something recently you hope no one finds out about? Uhh kinda 

What is your last thought before you fall asleep? ANXIETY 

Have you ever you shop lifted? Sort of

[m-ozzafiato]

lily | #3

In the days following the moment I stepped off the plane, Belle’s name played in my mind on a continuous, monotonous loop. Wherever I went, whoever I was with, whenever I took a second to think about my life at the moment, the thought of Belle seemed to pop up regardless of the efforts I made in which to avoid her. I thought about her more than I expected, more than I ever wanted to, and definitely, more than I had in the time being at college. The sweet escape of being in a large city with so much to explore and be exposed to kept me preoccupied enough to dodge reflections of my past. That, plus the combination of my intense focus on my studies, created an environment in which I became blissfully unaware of Belle, Taylor, the twins, or high school as an entire entity. There were times in the blooming weeks of freshman year where fond high school memories would pop up in discussions among my newly kindled friendship, and in those times I learned it was best to listen. I had no desire to revisit images of high school, no matter how happy I was for the majority of those years. Entering college truly marked the beginning of living in the moment and trying my absolute hardest to forget about the past. There was only so much time I could keep up the façade for. Yes, I was a driven, hard-working college student, exactly as I had been in high school. I always took learning seriously, I never took my opportunity to receive an education for granted because I knew what an immense privilege it was. Considering this, it isn’t surprising I stayed on a winning streak in college, consistently making the dean’s list, passing every test, spending adequate time studying. However, there was an undeniable change in the string of reckless behaviors I found myself participating in. The things in which I once criticized people for, I acted upon on a regular basis. College party culture truly exposed me to the parties I had missed out on in high school, and with that came an extensive period of prolonged experimentation with drugs and alcohol and hook-ups. My former self found no entertainment in a crowded room of people under some type of bad influence, but my college self, found myself in this situation every weekend, if not, multiple times a week. The smell of liquor I once loathed, I now welcomed with intense satisfaction; the overwhelming and loud vibe of parties became second nature; the cigarettes Belle and I had formerly fought over now always occupied the pocket in my purse and haunted my lungs with every cough. It was as if my shell had been gradually cracked under the pressure I put on myself and revealed a person now content with all of the activities I had scoffed at throughout the years. The squeaky-clean image I worked so hard to achieve and maintain remained on the surface, but underneath that layer, a few centimeters below, laid the Lily who partied, smoke, drank, hooked-up, all without consequence or apprehension. Whenever I saw old friends from high school by chance or relatives on the holidays, they all said the same thing- “You haven’t changed a bit.” While my mom was able to see I had grown into someone more independent, more guarded, more secure, changes she openly praised, she had also managed to be completely oblivious to the behaviors that became routine for me. My friends at college became the only humans to know who I was, they saw the layers I had developed. I was simultaneously a good girl and a bad girl, living two completely different lifestyles with each changing tide, each new phase of the moon. I was smart enough to know that being home for the holidays wouldn’t discourage the way I had become. It never did, honestly. Seeing Belle, however, made me question whether I really wanted to continue my bad habits. For the first time I began to think about her, our past relationship, and how she would think of me if she knew exactly the person I had become. The conclusion I came to? She wouldn’t love me anymore. My metamorphosis into a person I didn’t fully recognize prompted my realization that if I couldn’t recognize myself, neither would Belle. Sure, physically I looked the same, a bit of an older version with a matured girly style, the same outward appearance and all, but if we were to seriously reconnect, I’m not sure if she could look past my obvious changes. Belle was the person who knew me best, she always had. She was the one I confessed fears to underneath three a.m. moonlight, the one I cried in front of when faced with tragedies, the one who made me feel a love I never knew was humanly possible. The pure, fleeting thought of sitting down with her and talking with her after all this time shot a bolt of terror through my core; I couldn’t let her see myself this way, I couldn’t introduce her to the new me. I tried to distract myself in any way I could while being home. Without the responsibilities of school or my usual squad to keep me company, I was desperate for things to do. I lingered around my mom’s office in an attempt to strike up any conversation I possibly could, almost to the point of suspicion; I took drives around town with no set destination and embarked on an adventure to whatever place caught my eye; I went for runs on various trails, feeling my lungs set fire to themselves although my fingertips still reached for a cigarette the second I returned to my car. None of these things were ever enough, there always came the night time when the loneliness would settle in and I would run out of distractions. It’s the roughest hours of the days when nobody else is awake, nothing is really open, and all I have is myself. So I did what I reasonably though I could—I stayed awake. Before I knew it, the morning sun would greet me, I would head down to the kitchen and make breakfast for both my mother and I, and I would start a new day, despite the fact that I had left the previous one unfinished. Days without sleep would take a toll on me, as did everything else I dabbled in, but nothing could possibly hurt me as much as the thought of Belle currently was. It was a regular Wednesday afternoon when I decided to go to the grocery store. Such an adult activity, such a grown-up thing I always thought to myself whenever I went there. The thought of myself pushing a shopping cart with loads of food and everyday essentials was always enough to make me laugh a little. I had recently delved into the depths of various Pinterest recipes, because unlike other social media platforms, Pinterest was never dead, it always thrived with new ideas, I could always count on it to intrigue me at seven a.m. when I was over forty hours without sleep. Here I was, in the cereal aisle, pondering which rolled oats I needed to get in order to make homemade granola bars when she called out my name. “Lily!” Taylor Tate beckoned, standing at the opposite end of the aisle as she slowly approached me. Our impromptu relationship together when Belle had run off had been fleeting, yet comfortable. We didn’t end badly, there was no bad blood spilled, but we fell out of orbit with each other, and mutually broke up. It was for the best and truthfully, had almost forgotten about it until now. I almost whispered “fuck” under my breath, but before I knew it she was standing in front of me, leaning in for a hug as a casual greeting. I wanted so badly to dodge it, but her arms wrapped around me quickly and I promptly pulled away. “Lily Greene, how are you?” She took a step back, surveying me, her eyes lined in jet black eyeliner traveling up and down my frame, “You look great!” I smiled weakly, taking in a deep breath, “Thanks,” I exhaled, “I try,” “Home for the holidays?” She leaned slightly against the shelf, shifting the basket in the crook of her arm, “What college are you at?” “Occidental,” I replied curtly, “In LA… far away from here. Are you still local?” Taylor snorted, “No, thank God, I’m in San Francisco,” she continued, “I love it there. Have you ever been?” I shook my head, “Unfortunately, no. It’s definitely a trip on my bucket list, though.” “You should really check it out,” She encouraged, “It has everything—great restaurants, good scenery, a killer nightlife,” she winked, “I think you’d like it.” I held back a laugh. To think that Taylor would know what I like after all this time was an amusing sentiment, “I’ll definitely go there sometime, whenever I find the time.” “It’s a dream. It’s no wonder Belle chose to be a teenage runaway there,” she laughed and I suddenly had a sour taste in my mouth. “Speaking of the infamous Belle Wolfe, have you seen your lovely little ex?” If all Taylor wanted to do was gossip in the grain aisle, I had no interest, but still, I told the truth, “Yeah, I did.” “How is she?” She probed. “I wouldn’t know,” I replied slyly, shooting Taylor a glare, “Wouldn’t you?” She looked taken aback, “No, actually,” she chuckled, nervously redistributing her weight, “I just thought you would.” “Well, you thought wrong,” I said bluntly while shifting my body, slowly turning back to the oats I had been paying attention to before Taylor had stolen it. “I should get going,” Taylor quipped, “But if you ever want to hang out just let me know?” I nodded. I would not want to hand out with her, “Yeah, it was good seeing you.” She turned around, heading down the aisle, but then she rotated back to me, “Hey Lily?” I picked up my head, moving a caramel wave out of my line of vision, “Yes?” “You look good, and I’m here if you ever want to talk.” I did nothing but nod, acknowledging what she had said while knowing that it was not a viable option. The old Lily would run back into Taylor’s arms, eager to tell her everything, happy to have a shoulder to cry on. The new Lily picked up a box of oats off the shelf, threw it in my cart, and carried on, walking away from absolutely everything.

[sueboohscorner]

A 'Villain' is Born! #Gotham S3 Ep15 "How the Riddler Got His Name" Spoilers, Recap, & Review

Great, green garment, Batman! Gotham has returned after a long, long hiatus, much to the delight of fans of the show. Even the title alone is sure to catch anyone’s attention: ‘How the Riddler Got His Name’. Along with the title of the spring premiere of season 3, you might catch something else: The original tagline for the first part of season 3 was Mad City, aptly named after the Mad Hatter himself, Jervis Tetch, played with a somewhat perverted view of childlike innocence that the villain is mostly known for by the Australian actor Benedict Samuel. However, the tagline has changed into Heroes Rise. Now, it’s no secret that I myself tend to lean towards the villains, but we have seen many badass bad guys grow and thrive in the city of Gotham, but now it’s time to see just what our heroes will do to combat said villainy. Remember: a good villain inspires change. A villain acts. Heroes react.

Well, to use a cheesy line, the episode started out (literally) with a BANG! We first see a professor in his laboratory. Now, why should we care about this guy? Because Edward Nygma does, that’s why! (Played by Corey Michael Smith) He manages to tie up the professor and what does Ed do? Ask the poor egghead riddle after riddle. Unfortunately, the professor was not smart enough to match I.Q.’s with Edward. Nygma becomes enraged and almost saddened by each wrong answer to his riddles, until Edward basically smart shames the professor and then, well…… BOOM! You may be asking “Why would he do that? What’s his plan?” Calm down, and I’m going to get to that; I’m just giving you a spoiler recap for starters.

Speaking of villainy, we also see our favorite group that works in the shadows, the Court of Owls. You remember Bruce Wayne’s clone? (Played by David Mazouz) Well, guess what? The Court has been training him to become the perfect imposter of our hero Bruce. We see that Kathryn (played by Leslie Hendrix) declare that the clone’s training is complete. We also see a new character, Frank (played by James Remar), who turns out to be Jim Gordon’s uncle. Yeesh. Talk about a family history; Jim’s father was a decorated veteran and cop, and now we see that Jim’s uncle has been a member of the Court for who knows how long? Apparently, Kathryn wants Frank to reach out to Jim and ask him to join the Court. But if he can’t convince him….. use your imagination.

Back to Edward, still living in Dahl Manor, we see that he has been losing sleep and he has been taking pills. What kind of pills? My best guess is some form of the hallucinogenic drug. Why? The audience has seen, throughout the seasons that Edward does tend to see hallucinations, much to Ed’s chagrin. This time he’s taking pills to see visions whenever he needs to. And who he might be seeing in his head? Why, his ex-best friend, Oswald Cobblepot. (Played by Robin Lord Taylor) Yeah, it turns out that Edward is still in need of guidance to become more of who he is; more of a villain (his words, not mine). In Edward’s mind, Oswald is soaking wet, has a crab or two crawling on him, and is covered in scum. That would make sense, because the last time those two saw each other, Edward shot Oswald point-blank and pushed him into the cold waters by the docks. Literally, most things in Gotham go down at the docks. So Edward imagines his dead partner and summons him whenever he needs someone to talk to or some guidance. It would be more heartfelt if Edward’s mentality weren't deteriorating before our eyes. What Edward wants now in his life is to feel whole, complete, to figure out just who he really is. Nygma’s conclusion to that answer is to find the brightest minds in Gotham and see who can match his own intellect. To each their own, and all that. Mirage Oswald keeps fighting him on every step, saying that the way he’s going about this in a completely stupid way. Then Edward gets an idea for another contestant: Jim Gordon (Played by Ben McKenzie). Now, I like Jim, I really do, but come on. He is intelligent and strong in his own right, but I don’t think he would last a few rounds with Edward Nygma.

Edward sends a singing telegram to the GCPD, where Captain Harvey Bullock (Played by Donal Logue) is still cleaning up from the big hoopla that was left in Jerome Valeska’s wake. Lucius Fox (Played by Chris Chalk) informs Bullock about recent killings that have been going on in the city as of late. He takes note that each victim is either artistic or very intellectual. Fox is interrupted by the singing mentioned above telegram, telling them about the next possible victim. The card, of course, has a puzzle on it. The puzzle turns out to be a location: a chess tournament. Of course, Lucius Fox figures it out in less than a minute, and he, Harvey, and other cops from the precinct are on the move.

If you’re wondering about Jim, don’t worry. He’s just taking some time off to go on a hunting trip with his estranged uncle Frank. What could go wrong?

At the chess tournament, we notice that Edward Hazen overlooking view of the event.  Again, he summons Oswald.  Edward’s attitude towards his hallucination of Oswald is not necessarily bitter.  That may seem strange, give in their last encounter, but we see that Edward does not hold much malice towards Oswald.  In fact he still regards him as his best friend.  Of course there is tension, but Edward does not really care for that at the moment.  However the hallucination of Oswald is still fighting Edward at every step in turn that he makes.  Edward even thanks Oswald for coming, to which Oswald replied that he did not have much of a choice.  Edward is not too surprised when he sees the GCPD come in, but he is surprised to see Lucius Fox.  You could consider it a delightful surprise.  Ed activates an electrical device that is rigged to every chessboard in the building.  No one is safe for the then move or not.  But that does not matter, Edward has found his intellectual match.  Lucius Fox.  And he is already solved another riddle, a phone number leading to the person responsible.  Edward Nygma.  The phone call consisted of another riddle.  Which leads Lucius to a grim answer: the belly of the beast.  Which literally means that he had to cut into the belly of one of Edward’s victims for his next clue…..ew.

We take a minute to focus on Bruce and Alfred (played by Sean Pertwee) as they continue their training.  Knife throwing training, which is freaking awesome in my book.  But Bruce is clearly distracted in it interferes with his training.  Alfred calls him on it, and what is on his mind is Selina Kyle (played by Camren Bicondova).  Long story short: Selina’s mom turned out to be a garbage human and Bruce kind of knew about it, but did not tell her.  They had kind of a messy breakup.  Bruce tells Alfred that he received a note in the mail recently from Selina asking him to meet up with her.  Bruce knows that his training is really important, especially after what happened with Jerome, but he can’t get her out of his head.  So Alfred suggests that he takes her up on her note.

While Bruce is wandering the city, he comes across Sonny Gilzean and a bunch of his thugs.  They start messing with him until Selina arrives.  As it turns out, she did not send that note to Bruce.  And then she storms away. Sonny and his guys start beating up Bruce at first, but the rejection from Selina seemed to take its toll on him and he fought back, and kicked major ass, I might say.  As he turns to go back home, he encounters his clone, who drugs him unconscious as he plans to take his place.

We go back to Bullock, who is speaking at the police officer’s graduation ceremony. Until, uh-oh, Edward shows up and knocks him out.  All the while, Mirage Oswald insists that there is no Edward without him.  Edward admits some truth about that statement, but he will find something new in something better to replace Oswald with in his heart.

We see Lucius and Lee (played by Morena Baccarin) examining a dead body, cutting open his stomach, to reveal a police badge.  That match belongs to Harvey.  Lucius knows where Harvey is and he immediately leaves for the ceremony. To the young cadet’s remorse, Edward replaces Harvey as speaker.  He throws a grenade into the crowd, but not before giving a riddle.

Lucius finally meets up with Edward who has Harvey tide up in a chair which is suspended over a stairway. Edward gives Lucius three chances, three riddles, to save Harvey.  Fox gets the first two riddles wrong, but the last one he got absolutely right. Lucius also finds out that Edward killed Oswald Cobblepot, their mayor. But, we get a thumbs up from Edward while still making Harvey fall to his death.  Lucius manages to catch him in time, only to find that the green suited man was gone.

On Jim Gordon’s end, he and his uncle have a long talk.  Franks says that he came back to Gotham to patch things up. Then he comes clean about the Court of Owls, and how they are a secret organization that really pull the strings in Gotham.  He reveals that he and Jim’s father were members of the Court and that that originally wanted him to join as well. But Jim’s father saw how much of a threat they were to the city and try to fight back.  Frank reveals that the Court had set up a car accident that would cause Jim’s father his death.  French had to prove his loyalty, so the Court sent in a way for years to an unknown location. Jim is of course, outraged by this and is unsure whether or not to believe his uncle.

After saving Harvey, he, and some GCPD members go out and try to find Edward in the Dahl Manor.  The only thing that they find is a portrait of the mayor with a big, bright, green question mark on its face.

 After a long day, we see Lucius get into his car.  Edward was waiting for him in the back seat with a gun.  Instead of completely submitting to the threat, to Lucius psychoanalyzes Edward.  He sees that everything that Edward has done is some sort of act and he questions him about it.  Nygma states that he feels like there’s someone inside of him, someone that could be feared, and someone that could replace Oswald.  Lucius turns to Edward with a concern to look on his face and tells him that if there’s any part of him, that is still sane, he needs to get help.  Edward seemed shocked at first.  But he shakes it off and says…

“I am the Riddler!”

And he knocks Lucius unconscious.

We cut to inside a house filled with plants.  We see a bed with someone in it.  Hey, guys too, Oswald is ALIVE!!!!!!  To and apparently he was rescued by Ivy Pepper.  He wakes up and says one thing:

“I just remembered, there is someone I have to kill.”

The final moment that we see in the episode is Edward at the docks where he shot Oswald.  He has one final conversation with his hallucination.  To Oswald says that no one will ever be afraid of anyone called the ‘Riddler.'  Edwards says that he did a value their friendship, but now he will pull it Oswald behind him.  He dumps his pills into the water.  He stands up straight placing a bowler hat on his head.  The last thing that we see is a green suited man, Edward Nygma, no, the Riddler walk away.

Overall I did love the episode.  It was really nice to welcome Gotham to back on Monday nights.  It was so great seeing the characters come back and it was so great to see their next step or their journey in a pre-Batman Gotham. It does my heart good to see the actors bring more and more to the characters that we to all know and love to the table.

Things I liked:

Every single scene that Corey Michael Smith was in, he is now the Riddler, to and he loves every single minute of it. The Riddler is someone that a lot of us know even if we don’t read the comics.  He is flashy, showy, intelligent, incredibly vain, and absolutely arrogant.  Smith has already begun to take on to the Riddler, and already he is showing much potential, and he will certainly make his mark as the third person to ever be a live actor for the Riddler, and I can’t wait.

I always love me some Harvey Bullock. That should go without saying.

The relationship between Edward and Oswald as it continued seemingly after death.  The illusion of Oswald said to Edward that he really isn’t talking to the real person.  That he just imagined something that is already in his mind, but he just won’t face it.  It shows that Edward really did respect Oswald and that he did see him as a teacher for him.  Edward knew that he couldn’t just turn away from Oswald after he shot him.  He needed to figure out who he was without Oswald.  And the conclusions that Edward reached as he trudged through his epiphany was really enjoyable to see.

LUCIUS FOX, BABY!!!!!!!!  A lot of people know only about Alfred taking care of Bruce.  But Lucius Fox has just an important a role in Bruce’s life.  Sometimes I see Alfred as the bright side of Bruce’s brain, and Lucius is definitely the left side.  As a singular person, Lucius Fox is absolutely not one to be trifled with, especially when it comes to intelligence.

Poison Ivy saving the Penguin? AWESOME!!! 

Bruce Wayne KICKING ASS!!!!

Alfred’s Shepard’s pie

Things I didn’t like:

Lee Thompkins. Don’t like her. Never did from the beginning.

8 out of to10!

Well done, Gotham. Well, freaking done!

Until next time, stay weird, Gotham

[worldweavers]

B’s Grocery Haul, Education, and General Rambles

So I don’t have a photo of my grocery haul  today because my kitchen is in a shameful state. The sink is overflowing with dishes that need done, I have two filled and tied off trash bags by the garage door that never seem to find the last 15 feet to the can in the garage, there’s random empty packages scattered. It’s not pretty in the slightest and it used to depress me to no end but I’ve decided to look at it and remember WHY they’re not done. We’ve been busy living. We’ve been going to parks and having adventures. They need done, tomorrow we all agreed to buckle down and use the evening to clean the house.

I will spend the day studying and probably going to the library with Little Bit. We love love love the library in the city. She can sit and read books and I will be able to work on the next section of my veterinarian assistant course, medical terminology. I’m beyond excited for it! I battle all the time though, valuing myself enough to feel worthy of getting this education. My previous marriage I was told my education was not important, I had been in college when we met then got very sick with my pregnancy and dropped out. For five years I was told me going to school was pointless along with all the other emotional abuse. So now that I’ve got this partner who is a human cheerleader for me and works insane work hours so I can be home with Eden and focus on school, I don’t feel worthy. I procrastinate out of fear of failing. I constantly live in fear that I will fail. So far, I hold a 93 in the course based on 3 questions that I misread. I was kicking myself! To my credit, I’m doing so much better than I thought. Maybe my current husband is right and my ex is wrong, I am smart.

I used to KNOW I was smart. My grades were not great but that's because I felt homework was below me as a teen. I tested insanely well and when I got my GED I received a certificate for the highest score in the state on MO’s history with the GED. It was beat a few months later by 2 points from my jerk friend who copied me in dropping out and starting college early because high school sucked. I was so mad. I used to be confident and a social butterfly. Ask Sage, she knows. My last marriage broke me. It was bad.

I’m here now though and I’m going to try not to dwell on it. I’m going to focus on my classes, my dream to work with animals and the environment. being a park ranger in a national forest is the dream, or working with an animal rescue, or at a zoo.

All that rambling aside I achieved a goal today. We were able to grocery shop! Not like “Here's 45$ to get us 2 weeks so we are living off ramen and finding what healthy foods we can for the baby.” To be fair I only spent 107$ today but dangit I felt good about it! We have plentiful food for the next couple weeks and hubs cleaned the horrifying fridge out for me.

I disclose now I was not meant for housewifing. I wanted to be, SO BAD. I wanted to be the perfect little SAHM and house wife. Have it clean and peaceful so when he came home he could relax and we could enjoy life together. That's not how it turned out. As it turns out, I am meant to work. Which is also totally fine. Everyone is happy in different places. I just found a severe lack personal satisfaction and serious lack of motivation to clean the house. I hate it. I tried to unschool Lil bit and we had fun, but it feels like a chore now. So back to public school she goes. She will thrive there more, with friends to play with and more structure. She and I both thrive in a structured environment.

OK! Stay on track B. We can do this! The WHOLE POINT of my post today was to show off my awesome grocery haul. I have no photos, as stated above, so I will list it out!!

2 lbs of strawberries, a butternut squash, 4 giant cucumbers, 2 fresh pineapples, 12 large apples, 2 lemons, 4 limes, 2 red mangos, 2 seedless watermelons, 12 ears of corn, 3 sweet potatoes, and 3 cans of chickpeas from sprouts for 37.91!!!! I left flying on a freakin cloud. I stared at my cart and almost cried. I am always worried about feeding my family, we BARELY BARELY get by on my husbands checks unless he’s working himself sick. Part of why I am anxious to get back into the workforce, to ease some of that pressure off him. Anywho, to leave with SO MUCH for so cheap gave me hope and confidence in my scouring through ads for good deals.

Now for the Aldi haul!!

4 packs of mini marshmallows, ice pops, peanut butter, mashed potato flakes (makes 4 big pots), mini muffins, 5 boxes of cereal, 3 bags of chicken strips, 6 back of Salisbury steaks, 6 pack of rib patties, 2 cartons of orange juice, 2 cartons of coconut milk, 2 bundles of bananas, a bag of oranges, jalapenos, a big bag of tilapia, 4 brown gravy mixes all for 69.52!! Again, I was mind blown at how much I was able to get. I was supposed to keep the whole trip at 100$ but I went a bit over. Hubs didn't mind when he saw how much I was able to get through careful shopping. I realized I could have saved on some fruits I got at Sprouts by getting them at Aldi but I wasn’t sweating it too much. It would have saved maybe 5$ which is good but it wasn't worth the hoopla of trying to return it. A lot of the Aldi’s trip was for hubs and lil bit. I’m trying to eat mainly fruits and veggies because I’m tired of feeling like poop.

So there it is! A bunch of rambling and a pointless grocery list that probably no one cares about but myself but YAY!! We got food! Lots of it that I can make healthy meals out of to start not feeling so weighed down by my own body.

Oh, also, we realized, I want to turn the basement into the home gym/ laundry room but with all the stuff currently down there it’s not feasible. I need to go down and break down boxes, and clear out all the stuff down there. Or at least organize it so I can make my jogging path. Yes, our basement is huge, I can make a teeny track and then I’ve got Sissy’s old stationary bike, I sort of stole it from my parents. I also will have hubs weight set.

I LOVE WEIGHT MACHINES. So much. I never feel stronger. Running is ok but when I can leg press 300lbs, I feel really strong.

Ok, I will be done!! Time to go study and eat my strawberries!!

[asyptomaticsyptomless]

You want me to write about you

Too know if I miss you too, because facebook brings back those good memories uninvited to your head. Don’t worry. It does that to me too.

So don’t worry, I still write about you, but only because there is a part of me that still cares for you. But not in the way I once did. More like I did when my friend came back from Afgahnistan when the war was still new. When he came back so obviously shell shocked, I wanted to know if he was ok, and wanted him to be ok because so clearly he was not. 

You still have me blocked on facebook, and yet not here. Are you trying to understand how I feel about you. Because of the dream you had, that made you remember what a good person I was. No no, that I am?

Do you remember how strong I was to talk myself and you out of a god damned anxiety attack, or how amazing I was when you would come home from a long ass week, and I would have dinner, a beer or a bong, and a clean shower for you to have to get into? Do you remember how I would dance like a god damned puppy for you, because I was genuinely excited to see you home, and how we used to joke how strong I was to be dating a trucker.

I do, and it hurts because I loved you with everything I had. I gave you what I thought we needed to survive, to thrive, I listened to your suggestions and got help, I listened to your pleads and made doctor appointments, and tried to get better. I took your advise no matter what it was because I wanted to get better for us. But you couldn’t do the same.

No doubt you tried, but no matter what we would never match the way we did in bed. In bed we could communicate our likes and dislikes, we could face our fears and give each other pleasure, just because we wanted to. I took that outside of the bedroom. I tried to make sure you were happy, healthy, and that you were living, but you didnot want that. I am sure you still don’t. Because you believe that what you have and what you will build will be enough. You don’t want to grow out of Dosquet, you are happy there, and maybe now you understand that I never could be happy there. I am not a small town girl, I am not someone who drinks and uses drugs to make life worth living, or to relax or even because I like it. 

I do my art, espially when I am happy. I write letters, and long poems and stories. I draw, and sing, and dance. But you never saw that because I put your happiness first.

I realize now, and be prepared to be insulted, that you are looking for a mother type girlfriend. You are looking for someone you feel safe in, and around, that you can call up when you are having a bad time because you don’t know how to self sooth yourself, you only know how to rely on others to get you through the tough times. No one was there for me when I was rape. No one was there for be when you burst into the bathroom when I asked and begged and pleaded for you not to. No one was there for me when you swung an ax at my face as some kind of power play. I learned how to handle myself because when my parents were MIA when I needed them, I didnt turn to alcohol and parties and sex, I turned to my friends and I learned how to survive.

Somewhere in your life, you never had to reach rock bottom because you always have a net. And I sorta pity you for that. Here you are, a man who owns a house, who pays for his truck, who thinks he is everything, and yet, you cannot stand alone and love yourself. 

Did you make it through that? Do you still hate me? 

Cause I had a dream about you.

And it made me realize, that never once while we dated did I dream about you. I didn’t make art for you, or because of you. I never danced because you lifted me up. I was happy a hot exotic guy was into me. 

Oh you bet your ass I am mad at you. And maybe one day I can forgive you. Because under this anger, is pain, is sadness, is a feeling of betrayal. So yeah, I miss the idea of us, the picture I painted in my head for 2 years to the day. I miss those hugs you would give me to calm me down, or when you would kiss my head. I miss the good moments, because we did have them. But I don’t miss how trapped I was because we didn’t fit together. I don’t miss the anxiety about going to your families anything because they think somehow, that I convinced you to leave your ex and your family. That somehow I was the one who manipulated you. Because if they believe that, they clearly don’t know you.

You the man who does everything for himself. This isn’t a bad thing. It is just a thing. You could never be manipulated, and the fact that you thought I could, kinda honours me, because it means that I am smarter than you will ever verbally tell me.

God what I would have done to make the version of you in my had real. What I would have given up to make that my reality. But it will never come to pass.

Now I have someone who knows about my PMDD, and who knows about my ADD, and knows how fucked in the head I am. But he is still here. He has been through me pushing him away, and he knows every little horrendous detail I did to you. He knows about how I am severly impulsive and it gets me into trouble. He has seen it first hand how my anxiety can bubble up in me and shut me down. He has seen me depressed and not leave my bed but to work. And the most amazing thing is, he did nothing to change it. He didn’t try to fix me, or make me feel better, he accepted that this was the state I was in, and if I needed anything that I would ask.

I realize as I write this, I am not mad at you. I am mad at myself for trying to change you instead of realizing and accepting we could never work out. We knew it. We just never accepted it.

So it is my turn to apologize. Sorry for trying to change you, you are person who likes to drink, and likes to be in control, and needs someone to stand beside him, not under him to raise him. I tried to change you, and in doing so I fucked up. I am sorry.

[worldupdatereviews2017-blog]

Elderly man preventing for existence after Ravenswood crash

New Post has been published on https://worldupdatereviews.com/elderly-man-preventing-for-existence-after-ravenswood-crash/

Elderly man preventing for existence after Ravenswood crash

A 90-Year-Antique guy is preventing for lifestyles in health facility after a two-car crash south of Perth.

Foremost Crash officials are investigating the crash in Ravenswood, which noticed a 1993 green Ford Festiva hatch, which turned into traveling west on Pinjarra Avenue, collide with the rear of a 2008 blue Mazda 2B hatchback, just west of the Kwinana Freeway approximately five.25pm the day went by.

A ninety-Yr-Vintage man, believed to be the driving force of the Ford Festiva, suffered life-threatening accidents in the crash and turned into rushed by means of the ambulance to Peel Health Campus. His passenger, believed to be his spouse, became also taken to the equal health center, but it isn’t believed her injuries are lifestyles-threatening.

Major Crash officers are looking for witnesses who saw the crash or who may have seen the automobiles using inside the Ravenswood location before the incident. Everybody with facts can name Crime Stoppers on 1800 333 000. Do You Stroll Away Or is Your Love Worth combating For? If making a decision to combat to get your ex-lower back you have to make sure it is Well worth it first. There is no factor in combating with all you have to keep a relationship that actually should now not be saved, and you break up six months later.

Most effective you know the way robust the connection is. I’m not speak about via rose colored glasses or the primary few weeks. I imply surely. Your existence together. Be sincere with yourself. Most effective you recognize. All of us comment and decide different humans’ relationships, particularly if we do now not apprehend them. It may be definitely special to ours. but no person knows what it’s miles like interior someone else’s relationship. We’re all exclusive. What works for a person else may be insupportable to you. You are the Only one who knows what’s right for you. We all have a pal with a husband we can not stand, you find your self-wondering what on the planet she sees in him. Why does she live with him? How can she be satisfied? You think you understand her however she manifestly sees some thing we do now not. Most effective she is aware of.

That is so vital as it isn’t always usually clean to get your love returned. It could be a fight or an extended tough Road, particularly if the accept as true with has long gone. That may take time to get again. So you have to make sure it’s miles something Really worth fighting for. Ask yourself a few very searching questions

become it simply a great courting? Be sincere.

Did you argue extra than you had a laugh? I know some couples thrive on arguments, however in case you do no longer fall into that class or they are escalating, you then want to consider it.

Had been you sincerely proper for every other? You need to be definitely sincere with yourself. Have been you? Or did you simply need to be? Are you just terrified of being by myself or left on the shelf?

was it more physical than intellectual? And if the solution is yes, if you took the bodily away might there be something left?

Do you have a destiny collectively? Have you ever mentioned marriage and children and many others? Are you in settlement approximately your emotions on those subjects. if you do not There’s little risk of changing your associate’s mind. What in your 1920s seems a minor trouble, in your center Nineteen Thirties can grow to be massive.

Do you each want the equal things? Is it just fun or greater severe? It may be for you, however does your companion feel the equal? Do they need something extra casual and spend more time with their friends, setting them earlier than you, apparently Best seeing you once they don’t have anything else to do.

Can you even begin to consider lifestyles without them? I do not suggest just first of all however long time. Or if you are honest with yourself is it a chunk of a remedy?

Do not get me wrong, no courting is best, and if that’s what you are looking for it is going to be an extended lonely hunt. however some troubles are large than others. a few may be without difficulty ironed out with a piece of compromise and others are like climbing a mountain.

if you are going to fight you need to be organized to head for it. This is not a 1/2 hearted dedication. Be in it for the lengthy haul. Even if your ex does no longer seem fascinated you need to placed 100 according to cent into getting him lower back. You want to be organized to go through all kind of emotions earlier than you attain your goal. however to get the affection of your lifestyles returned it’s far Well worth it.

Giving Up Grandma – A combat For life, A combat For Death

First, she said she was feeling a touch “underneath the climate.” She did appear slightly paler than usual but, with flu season upon us, we chalked this minor trade in skin shade up to not anything extra than “she should have caught something is going round.”

Then, she complained of ache within the mid-to-lower proper side of her stomach. This pain, she stated, seemed to “wrap-around” the proper side of her body, causing soreness in each the back and front. “Probably just sore ribs,” we concluded, “she has been coughing an awful lot these days.”

Subsequent, terrible bouts of nausea became a frequent tourist. Even though she never bodily vomited, those episodes on my own Had been extra than enough to go away her certainly bedridden and usually within near variety of a “barf bucket.” Presently we felt we ought to now not expect a simple flu nailed her however, as an alternative, that her signs and symptoms Had been because of a “lots tougher-to-kick-than-everyday” belly flu.

Terrible Grandma, we concept, for someone eighty-three years of age, while even the minor-est of plus’ may be hard to conquer, she now needed to address a good extra enemy then we at the start first notion; a dreadful belly flu, one of which changed into wreaking terrible havoc on her frame and one in every of which often had her crippled over in ache, had her in its grip so tightly we We’re uncertain if it’s ever allow cross. Darn flu, besides!

[gaiatheorist]

I never liked that mirror anyway.

It’s OK, I haven’t broken it, wouldn’t want 7 years bad luck, would I?

I’m in one of my fidget-phases, there’s a fair chance I’ll be pulling the wires for the dead surround-sound system out from under the carpet before the end of the day. I’m periodically commenting on a Guardian article about keeping up with housework (waves to any cross-over readers), bloody hell, what a minefield. I can’t figure out if it’s ironic or not, that the school-friend who visited me last night, with her three bouncy children, used to come and aggressively clean my house when my son was tiny, but now posts the ‘Dust if you must...’ type things on Fakebook.

Housework is shit. It’s tedious, repetitive mind-numbing make-work, as soon as you finish doing one bit, you notice another bit, no quantity of ‘interesting radio programmes or podcasts’ could possibly distract me from the dullness of it. I haven’t ‘gone a bit OCD’, because that’s an offensive nonsense-statement, what’s happening to the inside of this shitty pile of bricks is mostly due to my control issues. (That, and spending 20 years stepping around Steptoe’s yard.) The ex saw housework as something for women, I resented that, and his ‘different kind of tired’ excuses, so, for a very long time, neither of us cleaned, how nobody died from botulism, or a broken neck from falling over stuff, I don’t know. It was disgusting.

I did grow up in a scruffy house, I probably lulled him into a false sense of middle-class-ness by pronouncing the letters ‘t’ and ‘h’ when I spoke, it wasn’t intentional false advertising. (The Wonderbra might have been.) I’m not middle class, and I grew up dirt poor, and frequently also dirty. (Like that time Dad caught a really big eel, and put it in the bath until all of his friends had seen it, I can’t remember if we had the house-goat at the same time, and I’m not going to upset the Guardian-readers by telling them that the goat probably ended up IN the freezer.) I’m not a ‘tidy’ person, or an ‘organised’ one, I still occasionally put things ‘out of the way’ instead of ‘away’, and then throw enormous tantrums at myself when a load of crap falls out of a cupboard. A bit like ‘me’, with my superficial functionality and my ‘hidden’ brain injuries, contradictory in every respect.

My scruffy, disorganised, chain-smoking mother never ‘taught’ me how to do housework, adolescent-me would have been pre-feminist outraged if she’d tried. The ex’s step-mum thrives on housework, wandering about, dusting stuff 793 million times, and doing that weird, tuneless, old-lady ‘singing’. (If I ever get that bad, take me out on the field, and shoot me.) The ex grew up in a show-standard house, but nobody had impressed on him the fact that it isn’t a team of elves that come in during the night and clean, so he didn’t really grasp that if you just whip your sock off, and dab at whatever you’ve spilled, it’s not actually ‘clean’. Every so often, he’d get into a mood, and empty the DVD cabinet, or barge into the boy’s (frankly disgusting) bedroom with a bin-liner, but I don’t think I ever saw him Hoover up, or put a load of laundry in. (Wait, that’s a lie, he did put the rancid work-clothes he’d been using for weeks in the washer, after I refused to touch them.)

Part of the ‘new’ cleaning regime is ‘reclaiming’ the space, after having his stuff encroaching into every room for so long. Part of it is the brain injury, I knock stuff over with alarming regularity, so surfaces need to be uncluttered. The periodic cognitive fatigue, where my brain pretty much factory-resets, and won’t function, that means things need to be ‘away’ in the right places, or I won’t be able to find them. (When I’m wandering around with two socks on one foot, and a teaspoon in my hand- that shit is scary.) The smell-thing is hideous, I’d rather set fire to all the tea-towels than have the ‘damp’ smell in the kitchen, and I’m rapidly running out of Yankee Candles, which I’m using to cover up smells that probably aren’t even there. The peripheral vision thing is vile, colour-contrasts set it off, as well as things being out-of-line.

I’m rambling, this particular blog is a distraction-attempt, before I start moving things I shouldn’t; I’ll probably do it anyway, if I take the bass-speaker, or whatever it is out of the TV cabinet, I can sort out that mess of DVDs and books that are shoved in at odd angles... not that it’s bothering me...  

Welcome to my weird-disabled world, I raged for so many years about hating the housework, I still hate it, I’m still chaotic. There’s no Feng Shui about ‘clearing space’. it’s just something to do. I’m not going to start taking pride in dust-free surfaces, it’ll only get dusty again, and I can’t stand the smell of furniture polish. (That I used to spray in the air if a car pulled up outside, so people would think I’d cleaned up...) I’ll carry on snort-laughing “You poor cow!” at my Fakebook ‘On this day’ updates being mostly snarks at the ex, that he never picked up on, whilst continuing to do all of the housework. In between writing about hating housework.