#if i could sell it off to someone for like 200+ bucks i would in a heartbeat say less <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[munchboxart]

If I could go back in time and change one thing it'd be never making that stupid fucking Bowser Gijinka design. The King Boo one can stay but he's on thin ice

[mcthsman]

Please be so fucking for real right now! People deserve to be paid for their hard work when it comes to gif making regardless of it being a poc or not you sound stupid as fuck for that some people make gif hunts to make money to live off of you stupid cunt

first of all, the fact that you take someone else's media (and face) and profit off of it is fucked up as hell. second of all, some of you are mad stupid with pricing. i saw someone charging US$20 for a gif pack of like, 200-ish gifs. Do you know how much that would be on someone else's currency ? to me, that's $105 bucks out of my pocket for 200 gifs. it's 350ish pesos for someone from mexico. it's not fucking accessible to most people, even those who get paid in us dollars let alone the rest of the world. (not to mention the fact that if someone would rather make a couple of dollars off of people of color rather than putting them out for free and having more diversity in the rpc says a lot about them i guess ?)

also although i hardly doubt anyone could make enough money to live off of selling gifs, you have other options that are less ethically grey (and, you know, the whole copyright infringment and making money off of other people's criations thing): make themes. make templates (for google docs, for carrd, for tumblr rps). make psds. make graphics. sell pics of your feet on only fans for all i care. my point still stands: putting underused fcs of color behind a paywall that isn't widely acessible is a diservice for all the progress we've made in the rpc in the last couple of years. (which isn't nearly enough btw, but that sort of behavior only pulls us back.)

[exlwandering]

Found a writing prompt, it was "How to Perfectly Cook Your Human" took it and ran, gets a little weird and gross so CW for gore. Cannibalism, and misuse of a medical cadaver. Also lots of cooking descriptions. Enjoy 🔪🥩

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How to Cook Perfect Human: A Tutorial

Hey, Im dead. I'm also called cadaver 23. Not my name but who the hell and I to tell the doc what I’m called. Today’s topic of discussion is not how horrible Mr. William Burke is at his job at selling corpses, today we talk about a very viral topic indeed. Can anyone guess it? Well, it’s CANNABILISUM!!! Exciting I know! And today's meal? Me. and tommorows and the day after… Probably for a while honestly im about 180 pounds and people tend to not eat over a pound of meat for like a whole week so… I’ll be on the menu until I go bad, guess he’s stuck with me. But enough about me and how many portions I am, lets talk about the real reason you’re here, to eat. 

Step One:  Get the meat. (This is arguably the easiest step apart from actually eating lol) First you need to find the right person tho, this is done by looking for people like Mr. William Burke, a freelance Broker (somone who sells deep people, aka people not fun at parties, like really dude, so many jobs and you pick seeling dead  dudes… I’m not one to judge tho.) Someone like him is slopy, (I mean it’s not like he has any idea what he’s doing??? He literally took my head off with a chainsaw in his back yard??? xD Guess I am one to judge lol) Any way because he’s got no Idea whats going on, and frankly neither do I, he sells for really cheep. The Rich B**** TM cadavers are worth like 5,000 big bucks for the whole thing, but people like me , ya boy, are like a couple hundo for all of me and like 200 for just a leg (I mean common, talk about a bargain baabaay!!!) After you’ve confirmed that I’m cheep all you gotta do is send some emails! I mean like, he’ll try and sound like he knows what he’s doing so he don’t get sued by a cadavers family but like… It’s not like he doing back round checks or anything so… You know what to do ;)

Step Two: Get Your Ingredients!!!  I suggest, since you’ll be getting me for like a bargain, you totally need to be buying some good spices for me, like rosemary, garlic, (running out of spices here…>:/) you get the gist. You also need to figure out how youll be cooking me! My personal fave would be a pot roast. Before I became a cadaver I lived for a good roast, it was my favorite meal growing up, so obvs you should be cooking me like that! For me!!! My Memory! Ya know, what I would want… Yeah. But. Ya know that’s totally not the only way to cook me. You could make pulled human, I heard human tastes and acts like pork so. You could also grind me up and make human burgers. Or even stake, make me look like an expensive dish! You get the idea, anythings on the table, just don’t burn me… Unless that’s what you want. Then I guess do it. :< It would make a sad tho. 

Step Three: Cook Me. Before we go forward, I wanna make something clear, I never ate human, or cooked it. So I’m not an expert on this part, I am on step one, not so much step two, I could never really buy expensive stuff before being Cadaver 23 so, I don’t know much, but these next steps I’m completely in the dark here. SO >:) From now on I’ll be talking about what I directly experience as I’m cooked. HERE WE GO!!!! The cooking requires some prep, one of the first things I felt happen was the skin being removed and placed aside, while this was happening I hear the guy preparing me talking about how tasty the skin can be when fried, like pork skins! Mmmm, yummy, (TBH one of my most fav road trip snacks). After this My thighs and calves are pried from the bones, said bones maserfally ripped apart from each other. After this, the four biggest bones and are put on a cutting board before being split right down the middle. They did this four excruciating times guys (talk about over kill). He places each bone of a pan with pepper to taste before putting them in the oven to roast the marrow. Both of my claves are cut into medium sized cubes, the exsus being thrown away, like nothing. Each side of my cubes are placed on a frying pan before sauce is put in with me, and I’m left to simmer until thoroughly cooked. One thigh is cut into sizable pieces before being put in a dutch oven with spices and hearty veges like potatoes and carrots and one big thing of garlic to roast us together. When I’m cooked they take forkes to me and pull me apart, mixing in some rosemary and other things that they desired. One thigh is cut into one thick slab before being placed in a cooker with large cut vegies like potatoes and celery and carrots, (woldn’t you know it their making a healthier meal with me than I ever ate before being… yeah. Their meal.) I’m a fancy steak, a pulled human, and most importantly I’m a pot roast now. But that’s not all, like they promised my skin is used, cut into rectangle shapes and placed into a large bowl of boiling oil, my skin bubbles and curls in on itself before becoming translucent and hard, easily snapped. My bones are finally pulled out of the oven, my marrow scooped out with a spoon and placed in a small bowl. I’m finished.

Step four: enjoy. I can feel their teeth. There’s three of them, which explains the three cooking methods. The fork goes through my muscles in one plate, on another I’m scooped up by a fork and pressed down by a partition of cubed potato, and finally on another plate- no a bowl, I’m picked up by a spoon filled with hot broth that burns everywhere it touches. Carrots, potatoes, and celery floats beside my thigh muscles. The slow grinding of my flesh is constant and thruming until I am mush. I crack and squelch between their teeth. My Skin snappeing and mosining and turning to mush and then nothing, only sunsitnace for their bodies. I’m also in the bowl next to the bread, still warm as My Marrow is scooped onto a butter knife and scrapped atop toasted bread slices and once again swallowed. I am in three bowls. I am in two plates. I am in three bellies.

I don’t know much about how to cook a human to perfection, but I do know one thing, I am now a perfectly cooked human. That’s all. Finally. 

[part2of3]

I've been posting on Reddit about selling my dad's tools and toolbox for like a year now.

Well at first it was just the toolbox. And then it was the tools as well.

Started out when we were going through something with our mortgage company and we needed money quick. I was even going to local dealerships and trying to sell it to the mechanics. I was calling snap-on drivers. I was getting nowhere.

Luckily at the time we were able to find other help for the mortgage. So we were good for a bit.

But we still need to sell it. We're still drowning in debt. And my dad's health is getting worse. So the tools are just useless to us anyway.

I tried Facebook market. I'll try to couple different places on Reddit.

Had a lot of interest but no follow-through. A lot of people saying that the box alone could be worth around 8K. That everything all together could be worth between 8K and 12K.

But the people who have that kind of money are already established enough to have their own tools. And the people who need its can't afford it.

It's been suggested I look into auction houses. So I sent several messages out. Mostly no responses. One of them was trading phone calls with me but eventually they stopped replying.

So I ended up going with a place called Wilson's auction. And I was so frustrated and overwhelmed by the whole thing that I don't think I asked them enough questions. I didn't prepare enough. I didn't think to tell them to start with a predetermined minimum bid.

I had them come pick everything up. I signed some contracts. And I just assumed that they would know what they're doing. I assumed that they would have some kind of appraiser that would have some vague idea of how much it's worth.

But then on the day of the sale I went to their website. The pictures they posted of it, the pictures they posted of everything they had that day, made it look like a flea market.

The sale was just yesterday. I haven't heard anything back. I don't know if I'm supposed to. Their website and all the paperwork just said that I should receive a check within two to three weeks. But based off of the pictures they posted, I'm really incredibly nervous. I feel like my stomach dropped. What if I went to the wrong place? What if instead of getting 8K, or even 6 or 4, what if I just end up with like 200 bucks?

We've had a roofing company come out to our house recently. It did some work on Friday, thank God that homeowners insurance is going to cover a lot of it, but we still have to pay a deductible to our insurance. I was really hoping on this tool sale to put towards the deductible. I was hoping for a lot. There was a lot of plans if I had a few thousand dollars. I need to pay off my credit cards.

But now I'm just sitting here scared and nervous that I screwed myself because I was impatient and didn't work hard enough to find a better seller.

But then I have to keep reminding myself that it's been a whole fucking year. I've tried. I've reached out to so many. It was starting to look like I might have to pay someone to haul this shit off of my property.

But now I'm just in a mood. Getting a few thousand from this would have been a tremendous tremendous help right now

[all-it-takes-is-a-little-arson]

alright as someone who grew up poor and is currently making a livable salary and trying to avoid fast fashion let me tell you some shit

poor people generally can't buy ethical high quality stuff, because it doesn't matter if it lasts ten times longer, if the boots cost 200USD, they're too expensive. we can spend 20 bucks a year on horrible sneakers that wear out because we can save up 20 bucks maybe, but we can't buy 200 dollar boots even if they would save us money in the long run, because we cannot save up fucking 200 dollars to drop on boots, we need to pay shit like the rent.

secondhand is great if you can get it. growing up most of my stuff was secondhand, sure, but our nearest thrift shop was a prohibitively long drive away from our tiny town, and gods help you if you need a specific type of clothing or want it to fit you.

and you do need specific types of clothing sometimes. frivolous fashion be damned, you can't get a job if you don't have clothes to wear to an interview. want to do extracurriculars in school? great, you need formal shoes for choir and band and specialised athletic clothes for sports. none of that is cheap and you're unlikely to find it secondhand

and, anyway, secondhand clothes are still more often than not fast fashion. cheap, flimsy, polyester, designed to shred after ten wears, and there's no amount of 'buy secondhand' that can deal with that, because that's the industry's fault.

and if you're poor do you know what you don't have time to do? spend hours of your life driving from one thrift shop to another looking for ethical clothes. you don't have time and you can't pay the gas to drive an hour and then circle town looking for shops.

"but just alter clothes or make your own!" do you know how much fucking time that takes? do you know how expensive fabric is? and thread? and a sewing machine? and buttons? gods, buttons cost so much. and it's still probably not ethically sourced anyway because you're going to get it from a chain store like JoAnne.

and your lists of ethical places? they take hours to sort through. more than that, 9/10 links are usually broken, or the shop has gone under already, or is on a hiatus, or it's still a startup that doesn't have anything to purchase yet. and the ones that do work? they usually sell things like 50 dollar socks. see above about how if you're poor you can't spend fifty dollars on a single pair of socks, no matter how ethical and high quality they are. because with fifty dollars you could instead buy like ten packs of socks from Walmart or buy two week's worth of groceries so you don't starve or pay the electric bill or fill your gas tank.

look. I am making a living salary right now and doing my darndest to wear ethical clothes and you know what? sometimes I still have to buy slacks and shirts from some cheap unethical retail place because I have to wear them to work and I simply do not have four hours to research clothing places and then three weeks to wait for something to deliver and then hope that it's my size. so yeah, back the fuck off about individual choice. the individuals most affected by these issues do not have a choice, and the entire concept of individual responsibility for these types of issues is manufactured by corporations' PR teams. check out the history of the carbon footprint concept. if you can by ethical fashion and have never once needed a specific wardrobe for a specific thing, bally for you, but fuck off about everyone else, because not everyone can, and also it's fine for people to sometimes get clothes that are fashionable because it makes them happy. we live in a hellscape where we work to exhaustion most of every day and it's okay for us to find things that bring us joy even if those things are cheaply made polyester dresses on sale somewhere. if we have to feel guilty for every single bad thing in the world we will all drop down dead right here and now.

I *knew* that companies have been trying to shift blame for damage to the environment onto regular people's buying habits, but it has still somehow been a shock to research a topic and find the internet totally dominated by the narrative that "consumerism" and the desire to buy more stuff is entirely responsible for pollution and landfill waste, instead of factors such as planned obsolescence.

It's insidious—this widespread idea that average people are too greedy, and that's what fuels climate change and pollution. Not greedy companies.

"Consumers shop for clothes to stay on-trend and throw away perfectly good old clothes." "Consumers only wear clothes a few times before throwing them away." "A huge amount of landfill waste comes from clothing that consumers throw out." "Consumers replace their wardrobes arbitrarily to stay on-trend." "Consumer demand for 'fast fashion' is rising spite of the environmental impacts."

Statements like this make it sound like regular people want to buy and waste vast amounts of resources, and normal people's unchecked addiction to shopping is causing environmental devastation. It's horribly misleading when products are being deliberately designed to break or wear out within one or two years and to be impossible to repair.

Instead of "Americans are buying way more clothes than they did 20 years ago, causing lots of landfill waste!"

Where are the articles entitled "Clothing brands are selling poorly-made clothes that have to be replaced much more often than 20 years ago, causing lots of landfill waste!"

[chippedaxe]

yessss for karl?! omg yess please pleas please can you write a dom step sis! reader ruining innocent stepbro! karl!!

like she teases him and he just isn’t experienced at all and she just fucking destroys him, wanking him until the sensitive little bunny is crying and begging to stop from overstimulation

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Title: Silly Boy

Warnings: !TW: STEPCEST!, NSFW (Minors DNI), cursing, corruption ig, blackmail, degrading, teasing, humiliation, penis degrading, small penis, overstimulation

Pronouns: She/her Afab

Synopsis: The reader dominates Karl and knocks him down a peg.

Word count: 2k

Note: If this type of content offends you in any way then please just ignore it, I have tons of other content on my page that isn't stepcest content and you're able to blockout any stepcest content by blocking the 'tw sepcest' or 'stepcest cw' tag <3

- This prolly isn't what u wanted but I thought of this and wanted to write it! also this hasn't been proofread and it hasn't been edited at all!

*Btw Veruca Salt is a spoiled kid that gets everything she wants, from Charlie and the chocolate factory.

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Your eyes glared down at the younger boy, towering over him to show dominance "S-sis, what're you doing?" Karl asked "Trying to scare you, is it working?" you leaned down and kept eye contact with the stammering boy "u-um not really.." he stuttered out "then why're you stuttering over your words? You're obviously intimidated." you placed your hands on your hips.

"Well why're you trying to intimidate me? I'm just trying to read this book!" he groaned "Because someone has to knock you down a peg, you think just because you're younger that you can get everything you want? Well not if I can help it!" you were furious by the boy.

"What're you on about? What've I done to you?" Karl asked worriedly "You've been asking for a whole lot this week, veruca salt!" you threw your arms in the air and started pacing around him and his chair "What? Like what?" Karl was utterly confused "You've been asking for non-stop rides to your friends houses, and you've been leaving your laundry around for mother to do!" you cross your arms.

"You're overreacting!" Karl complained "Oh I'm not done! You've also been taking money from mom's purse!" you called him out "What- how did you know about that??" Karl immediately became tense "Oh you look so stressed dear brother, just relax- don't worry... I'm not gonna tell her-" Karl sighed in relief "Oh thank god" and got cut off by you finishing your sentence "-If you promise to be a good brother and listen to what your stepsister says!" you finished.

"WHAT? No way! I'm telling mom and dad!" He began to stand up but you pushed him back down "Oh no no no, you're gonna tell them what? That you stole the $200 that mom presumed was stolen by a thief? You gonna explain that to her after she already called authorities and had someone sent to jail?" you spat venom at him.

"You're evil!" Karl shouted "Me? Evil? I'm not the thief here" you grinned mischievously "Although I could be- if you don't wanna have to do everything I say then just give me something precious you own" you held your hand out expectantly "What am I supposed to give you? My soul?" Karl questioned "If you can bare to part with it then yes" you gave a mean smile in response to his sarcasm.

"I have literally nothing!" Karl exclaimed "You have your phone" you suggested "Dad would kill me if he found out I'd given it away!" He shouted "he'd kill you if he found out about that money too" you reminded him "I- I could give you... I'll let you date one of my friends!" Karl smiled nervously as he hoped you'd agree "What friends? You're a nerd, no one would want to be friends with you" snickered.

"S-Sapnap! He's strong, he loves animals, he has big muscles!" Karl said "The brute with dark hair? He's cute but not my type" you yawned "U-m.. Quackity?" a bead of sweat dropped down his face "He's super cool, really funny!" Karl was starting to worry as he was already running out of friends to pair you with "No.. My type is nerdy boys that I can dominate, ones that get nervous a lot and stutter over their sentences" you hinted.

"Oh- like Wilbur? I'm not really his friend but I can try something!!" Karl wasn't getting the hint "No, I was thinking more specifically towards someone like you." you finally told him "M-me? But I'm your brother!" Karl was in disbelief "Step-brother. And I don't really like you, I just think that you're pitiful and if you're gonna be selling someone's body to me in exchange to keep your secrets safe than it may as well be yours." you explained.

"But- Well- I've never done that before!" he put his hands up defensively "Well obviously, who would want to touch a greasy nerd like you?" you sighed. "Well- No, that's wrong!" he shook his head "Well I'm not gonna make you, just give me something else then and I'll be on my way" you told him. Karl looked down at his feet for a moment as he mulled over what was happening and what decision he was gonna make.

Karl lifted his head and made eye contact with you "Okay." he replied "Okay what? Okay you're gonna give me something?" you asked "No- I mean- okay I'm gonna give you my body" he mumbled quietly "Gonna need to speak up, can't hear you over the sound of our parents crying over having such a disappointing child" you ridiculed him.

"I'll give you my body, damnit!" he yelled "hey- quiet down, our parents are only just down stairs!" you made him shut up. "Whatever" he leaned back in his chair and slumped down "Karl. You need to give me your full consent, you can't just go 'yea whatever' and expect me to be fine with that!" you furrowed your eyebrows "Why?? What- do you need me to beg you for it?!" he was getting aggravated.

"Actually yes, I do" you decided to torment him a little bit "Big sis, please please please fuck this desperate loser" he put his hands together to make a praying gesture as he mocked you "That's more like it, runt." you grabbed his chin and forced him to face you "We can stop at any time, if you choose not to speak up then that'll be your fault" you made sure he was fully aware that he had a say even though he wasn't in control.

"Thanks. Now- how do we?" Karl was now confused on what you were gonna do, and he was having some type of delusion that he was gonna be the one in charge dominating you. "I think I'm just gonna have some fun by jerking you off, is that okay bunny?" you teased "W-what do you mean you're gonna jerk me off?" Karl asked nervously "I'm gonna stroke your dick, never done that before?" you bullied him.

"N-no, never even thought about it.." his face became red and flushed, you slowly slid onto his lap and straddled his leg "No? You haven't? Are you lying to your big sister? That's not very nice you know, Mom always told me that you shouldn't lie (Unless it's to your dad) " Karl glanced away from you and tried to hide his face "Aw you can tell me the truth, I'm a good listener after all!" you encouraged him "I haven't.." he persisted.

"Well then let me introduce you to the pleasure that is being jerked off, slide your pants down" you instructed "What? Do I have to.." he was clearly embarrassed "No. I guess I could just palm you through your pants" you shrugged. Karl sighed in relief and let out a small breath, tilting his head back in the chair and waiting for you to do what you wanted.

Your hand dipped between his legs, your palm rubbing his growing bulge "H-Hey that feels weird" he told you "So what? You want me to stop?" he shut his mouth, encouraging you to keep palming him. "This would feel a lot better if you let your cock free, instead your trapping it in your tight pants and strangling it.." you frowned "F-fine.." Karl blushed as he slowly pulled his pants down.

You watched in delight as he released his penis "Oh is this what you were worried about?" you stared down at it "O-Oh god-" Karl felt humiliated and went to put it away but you stopped him "It's cute.. I wouldn't expect a nerd's penis to be big anyways" you told him. Karl's little cock twitched at your words, moving slightly on its own "oh. my. god. You LIKE when I'm mean to you! That's why you never argue back! It all makes sense now.." Karl looked down to avert eye contact.

"That's perfect Karl, you love when I'm mean to you- and I love to make fun of you! Win Win!" you felt a small rush of excitement. Your hand wrapped around his cock which forced a choked out moan from him, his hands moving to cover his face "you're acting quite rude Karl. Look at your big sister when she's talking to you!" you ordered.

Karl slowly revealed his face, revealing how much pleasure he was having. "F-Feel's weird, let go!" he ushered you to let go of his penis, even though his body disagreed; his hips bucking up into your hand to help finish him off "Trust your big sister." you said as you continued to pump your hand around his cock. "Fuck! Fuck you!" Karl's whole body shuddered as he was having an orgasm, his penis twitching in your hand.

"Wow Karl, that was rude." you huffed and narrowed your eyes, your hand still lingering on his crotch "A-are you done now?" Karl panted as he was trying to catch his breath "Done? I've barely even started!" you laughed maniacally as you began to slowly stroke him again "Ah- no no no, that's too much!" Karl whined. "You want me to stop?" you asked him "Yes!" he exclaimed so you let go and pulled away "What?" Karl was confused and a bit upset "Hm? What is it?" you asked "You're just.. done?" he looked saddened.

"You told me to stop!" you explained "yeah but.. I didn't really mean it.." Karl's cheeks were dusted red "Well come back here then" you grabbed his hips and forced him back down onto his chair. Karl was already eager and bucking his hips up against you, your hand grabbed him again and started to jerk him off "Ah!- Ah-" Karl tried to keep quiet but couldn't help the escaped noises that came out.

You placed your free hand over his mouth to try and muffle his moans, his voice vibrating against your hand "You can never be quiet! Always have something to say, don't you?" you rolled your eyes at him. Karl clenched his eyes shut and tapped the chair repeatedly with his hand to let you know he was ready to cum again, you let him release his load yet again but you didn't remove your hand.

"A-Again?? I can only take so much.." Karl whimpered and whined "You're feeling this way already? But I've only just started!" You frowned "Well I guess I can give you a break now but there won't be any breaks later on when our parents go out to dinner." you stood up and got off him. "T-Thanks.." Karl huffed "For what?" you asked "Thanks for um- pleasuring me?" you scoffed and walked back to your room, ready to return at night time when you had Karl all to yourself.

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*guys lemme know if u want a part 2 bc I could certainly make one of the reader x karl at night time after their parents have left.

[lumosinlove]

Cw: mentions of drugs and mentions of past abuse

Previously On Relic Keel

Remus has started to associate sailing with Sirius Black ever since Sirius told him he watches his boat every morning. He thinks about how tired he is of knowing everything there is to know and wishes to leave the island.

Remus also starts his new job at the Hogwarts History Museum where he meets up with his friend Layla, whose family runs the museum, and whose brother, Lyall, Remus races sailboats against. On his way there, he reflects on the divide between Salazars and Godrics. He remembers Sirius at school, and how he was either celebrated or shunned with seemingly no pattern.

After their first shift at the museum, Layla takes Remus to The Lion for lunch, chastising Remus’ prejudices, and introduces him to Leo. Remus sees Leo’s rainbow bracelet and thinks about how badly he wants a boyfriend. We also learn that Luke is also gay, but that he and Remus have always been just friends.

Logan arrives at The Lion, too, is introduced, and listens in on Remus finding out a new exhibit on madness at the museum—the Lupins are known for going insane, but Remus’ mother mentioned nothing to Remus about this exhibit.

Leo learns that Logan is looking for someone (Finn). Logan reflects on a sleepy feeling that seemed to go away with his escape from the orphanage. Leo offers Logan a job, if he wants, and also tells him about The Voldemort.

The Voldemort is a boat from the eighteenth century that is said to have sank in The Cradle, a U shaped arrangement of islands just off of Hogwarts Southern Coast. Leo’s dad was close to finding it. Leo feels like he should want to find it, too, for his lost father.

Saint and Sirius arrive. Saint and Logan see each other for the first time in almost ten years, since Saint escaped when he was seven. Logan tells him that Finn got him out and Saint finds out that Logan sells Crucio.

Pascal, who owns the Lion with his wife Celeste, is introduced. He’s very close with Saint and Sirius, and he apparently knew Leo’s father before he went missing at sea. Saint learns that Logan is staying with Leo.

James and Remus arrive, looking for Dorcas who Thomas said might be selling Crucio to Luke. They’d like her to stop and are willing to pay. Logan takes advantage of this and, although he doesn’t sell to Luke, cons James out of 200 bucks.

Saint learns that Logan has gotten tangled up with The Carrows, the more dangerous of the two Crucio dealers, the other, safer one being Kasey Winter, in the hopes that they will help him get Finn out. Instead, he’s in their debt for using their Crucio himself.

Logan slips and calls Saint Bash. Saint refuses to help Logan get Finn out.

A/N: I super don’t speak Latin. And neither do my trees.

part v

Dorcas watched as Saint took his book from the floor of the back seat and flipped his sunglasses down.

“How long?” he asked. “And how do I keep getting stuck with this job?”

“Because Sirius is a better surfer than you are,” Dorcas replied. “And you know what, you can take off. Her parents are out of town for the weekend so her dad won’t be coming home or anything.”

Saint paused and raised an eyebrow. “And so I just drove you because…”

“I didn’t feel like walking?”

“Clever gal.”

Dorcas smiled. “I know.”

“Whatever, I need the car anyway.”

“What are you up to? I thought you were working at the Potters.”

“Just Sirius today,” Saint threw his book back into the rear seats. “I’ve got some detective work ahead of me.”

“Does this have anything to do with that little friend of yours that Sirius told me about?”

Saint rolled his eyes. “Of course he told you.”

“You know you two can’t keep secrets from me.”

“Don’t I.”

“See you later, babe,” Dorcas opened her door.

Saint gave her a salut as she headed around towards the dug-out fence.

Marlene had her paints out and her hair up in a bun when she pushed the window up and open for Dorcas.

“Luke’s here,” she said, and rolled her eyes as she turned away.

Dorcas froze in the window frame to see Luke with his feet crossed, laying on Marlene’s bed.

“Okay,” Dorcas said. “Can he leave?”

“Hey,” Luke said. “Cousin privileges.”

“Girlfriend privileges,” Dorcas said, shutting the window behind her. “Plus, can’t you go, like, toss a ball at a net with a stick or something?”

Luke rolled his eyes—not unlike his cousin. “I’m on a rest day. Plus, I’m off the team.”

“And whose fault is that?” Dorcas raised an eyebrow.

“He’s just getting out of the house for a bit,” Marlene said with a pointed look that Dorcas understood as he’s getting away from his mother. 

“Plus,” Marlene continued. “He’s a good cover story.”

“I thought your dad wasn’t here.”

Marlene shook her head. “Came home early. Guess his newest gal pal didn’t like golf. He’s over at the club now.”

“What’s his deal, anyway?” Luke asked. He had reached over to the bedside table and put a bowl of what looked like mango slices onto his stomach. “With you two, I mean.”

“I am his little princess,” Marlene said dryly. “Not to be dated.”

“And a Salazar girl who lives in The Hollow?” Dorcas shook her head. “No deal.”

“Right,” Luke said. “Like that’s never happened before.”

Dorcas snorted and sat on the bed, too, stealing a few pieces of fruit. “Like you’re any better than the rest of them, Deveaux.”

“I am,” Luke said. “I don’t hate Salazars.”

“But you hate Hollows.”

Luke grinned. “I don’t hate them, either. They hate me, and what am I gonna do about their jealousy? That’s their issue.”

“God, you’re an asshole,” Dorcas sighed.

“He’s really not though,” Marlene stepped back as she regarded the painting she was working on. Luke’s face looked back out at them from the canvas. “He just likes to make-believe.”

“Could have fooled me and my friends.”

“He’s a great actor,” Marlene agreed, then stuck her tongue out at Luke. “I just happen to have known him before he learned how.”

“All right, fuck you both,” Luke grumbled, and ate another piece of mango.

“Believe me,” Dorcas said. “We’re not jealous of you.”

Luke raised an eyebrow. “You can’t tell me you wish you didn’t have to sell Felix to make a little more money?”

Dorcas narrowed her eyes. “Like you and your money live such a great life.”

Luke looked away, jaw tight.

“Yeah,” Dorcas said. “I’d take Crucio and the friends I have over that any day.” After a moment of hesitation, she looked down and mumbled. “And by the looks of your little habit, so would you.”

“Fuck you, Meadowes,” Luke snarled. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“All right, all right,” Marlene said, tilting her head as she added color to Luke’s cheeks in her painting. “Cool it, kids. Take a chill pill. Knock it down a notch. Luke, why don’t you go get us some pizza or something? Or maybe pick up from Thomas’. I crave his nachos, holy cow. Also, tell him to come hang out later tonight, if he can.”

Luke held Dorcas’ eyes for a moment, then pushed himself up from the bed. “Pepperoni, you?”

“Pineapple and ham, thanks,” Marlene said, and smiled at Dorcas as she patted his back out the door.

“Hi,” Marlene laughed once the door closed behind him. She walked into Dorcas’ arms. She took Dorcas’ face between her hands and peppered kisses to her mouth. “How are you?”

“Worried about basically all of our friends,” Dorcas laughed. “And that one, I guess, too.”

“Tell me about it,” Marlene sighed, laying down on the bed and eating a slice of mango. Dorcas mirrored her position. “No, seriously, if you want to talk about it, I’m all ears. I mean, I’ve got Luke who, one, needs to get out of his house, and two, needs someone to love, like, God, I wish he had a boyfriend. I just want him to get off this island, go to college, and meet the sweetest human in the world, you know?” Marlene sighed again, eyes far away. “He doesn’t act like he deserves that, but…it’s really his family he didn’t deserve. He’s all torn up about his dad, but his dad’s…a schemer. You know? And his mom, don’t even get me started.”

“Maybe he can still meet someone here,” Dorcas replied, and reached out to brush Marlene’s hair away from her face with a smile. “You never know. We didn’t. How long did we spend on this island without knowing each other existed?”

Marlene’s smile faltered in a way that Dorcas was beginning to recognize. It worried her.

“What?” Dorcas asked softly.

Marlene tilted her head. “Hm?”

“You keep doing that,” Dorcas said, tracing a thumb over one corner of Marlene’s mouth. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Marlene said. “I was just thinking about Luke. I mean, my parents sucks but at least they’re…”

Dorcas raised an eyebrow. “Not in jail?”

“Yeah, I don’t know where I was going with that,” Marlene laughed. She scooted closer, letting Dorcas hitch her thigh over her hip, Dorcas’ thumb rubbing idly over her soft skin. “Now what are you worrying about, lover?”

“Sirius,” Dorcas began. “I don’t know he just…he’s never seemed…happy? Saint. He’s trying so hard to be happy that I know he’s not. And now there’s Logan which I think stirred up a lot of Saint Clair stuff for him. I mean, Jesus, how do we not know what’s up with that place?”

“Gods are good at not paying attention,” Marlene said solemnly.

“Saint never takes that damn cross off,” Dorcas said. “I mean, wouldn’t you want to let it go?”

“Sorry, who’s Logan? He got out? As in escaped? Like Saint did?”

Dorcas nodded. “I haven’t talked to Saint about it yet. Me and Sirius are gonna tag-team later, make him let it out.”

Marlene looked suspicious. “Good luck.”

“We have our ways,” Dorcas laughed. “And Logan…He deals. I know him a little. Not really.”

Marlene nodded, going quiet at the mention of Crucio as she always did.

“I like what it gives me,” Dorcas said gently. “Freedom, Marls. More than any other job here could. At least any job that I could get. And its from Kasey, who makes it safely. Unlike the Carrows. So—”

“You don’t have to explain,” Marlene said, and pushed herself closer. “I know. Really, I know. I’m proud of you. I just wish there wasn’t as much risk.”

“Like the police do anything about it,” Dorcas sighed, running a hand through Marlene’s hair. “They probably like the revenue it brings for the island.”

“Yeah,” Marlene sighed.

“Well,” Dorcas said. “We probably have at least twenty minutes before Deveaux returns with the pizza…”

Marlene smiled and pushed Dorcas’ hat off, leaning over her on the bed. “Oh? Twenty minutes you say?”

~

Saint parked the Jeep between two trees in an overgrow section of a Salazar road.  He knew where The Carrows lived. It was difficult to miss their house. Saint could practically smell the gold and diamonds. He felt like he smell the Crucio, too, the rubber bands and the plastic bags, and the sickly sweet powder.

There was no one outside. The whole grandiosity looked strangely deserted.

Saint reached into the rear again for the latest book he had borrowed from James. Frankenstein. Not one he hadn’t read before, but a good one none the less.

“Don’t know why you want that one,” James had said when he handed it over. They had both been hot from working in the sun—Saint on the lawn, James on his backhand. “I had to write a book report on that in, like, what, ninth grade? Oof.”

“Beluis amicitiam,” Saint had replied.

“How the fuck do you know Latin?” James had said. “You aren’t even at our school.”

“You gave me a book on Latin.”

James nodded. “Right.”

“Well?” Saint had asked. “You’re at school. What’d I say?”

James squinted one eye shut. “Beast…friends?”

Saint had laughed. “Literally, sure.”

Saint opened the book now, rolling the window down in the stuffy car. The AC was broken.

“Monsters like company,” he said aloud into the small space and settled down to wait.

~

Lily didn’t expect to find herself painting an old boat with James Potter on a Saturday afternoon, but painting she was. She dipped the fat brush into the blue paint, trying to wipe her hair out of her face without getting blue in it.

“Still doing okay over there, Lils?”

Lily looked up to see James’ head pop out over the upside-down bow.

“All good,” Lily nodded. “You?”

James smiled. “Yeah. Thanks for helping me out.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Lily said. “Just working on my tan.”

James’ head appeared again, only this time his expression was incredulous. “We both know we both burn.”

Lily laughed. “I guess so.”

The Potter’s had their own, small beach in front of their property, and Lily dug her feet down into the sand, looking at the inviting ocean.

She felt all too awkward after their talk a few nights ago. She had been brash, and almost cruel at some points. James was—good. But she didn’t want to end up like her mother. She didn’t want to stay for someone, like her mother had for her father, and regret it, like she could tell her mother did sometimes.

And if she had wanted someone to come out into the world with her, she couldn’t have picked a worse candidate. James was a Potter, and the Potters were Hogwarts Island’s beating heart. Their money was in every part of this island. Every grain of sand, every brick. Hogwarts Academy, whose headmaster was James’ father.

If Lily loved James, she’d never escape.

And the problem was, she did love James.

“So, I was thinking about doing a movie night or something,” James said from the other side of the boat. “Put a sheet up and a projector. We could lay it all out on the lawn, or by the pool. Get some candy and popcorn and shit, invite everyone.”

Lily cleared her throat. “Yeah, that sounds cool.”

James was at the front now, painting the boat’s nose. “Any suggestions or requests?”

Lily smiled. “Is it too cheesy to do Pirates of The Caribbean?”

James laughed. “Hell no. There’s no better place!”

Lily shrugged. “Then definitely that. Oh, Will Turner.”

James snorted. “Yeah, can’t say no to that.”

Lily smiled at him, and shifted closer to the other side of the bow.

“So, how’s your common-app going?” James asked. “These essays are sort of killing me. I mean, you’re staring out a window. What do you see? What the fuck kind of prompt is that? That’s what’s going to get me into college?”

Lily laughed. “Not to mention asking me why I want to go somewhere. They’re basically forcing me to make something dramatic up.”

“Right. If I’m being, you know, honest, I feel simple, and if I’m embellishing, I feel fake.”

Lily looked up at him. “Exactly. No, that’s—exactly.”

They smiled at each other, paintbrushes poised.

“I don’t know,” James sighed finally. “I’m—I’m sort of worried, Lils.”

“What about Lacrosse?” Lily asked.

James nodded. “That’s what my dad says. And, yeah, I love it, but…sometimes I wonder if it’s more that I love who I’m playing with. Luke, Remus, Thomas.”

Lily nodded, eyes flitting over his face which had gone serious and tense. “Right. No, that makes sense. But J, you’re so smart. And kind.”

James’ smile was small, but his eyes, when he looked at her, were fond. “Not as smart as you. And I can’t get a degree in kindness.”

Lily hummed, thinking. College was a sensitive topic for everyone it seemed. What was supposed to be one of the best parts of their lives was all uncertainty and vagueness. She thought of Marlene, and how she hadn’t told Dorcas about her early-decision acceptance yet. This seemed to be all goodbyes and leave-behinds.

“Sorry,” James cleared his throat. “That was a downer thing to say.”

Lily shook her head. “I’m starting to think college is just a downer thing.”

James smiled, and, even though it was something that had only been gone for a moment, Lily found that she had missed it. James was so bright. “Yeah.”

Lily knew that she was going to say goodbye to James in a year. But for the first time, she wondered how she knew, and when she had decided.

“You’re going to be amazing, Lils,” James said softly. She could tell that they were both thinking of their conversation. He looked down at her with his hazel eyes. “Really, you are.”

Lily meant to say thank you.

Instead, she leaned forward and kissed him. James’ body tensed, and then relaxed. His mouth opened beneath hers and she cupped his cheek, her other palm splayed on his chest. He was warm from the sunlight. He made a soft sound and tilted his head to kiss her again, hand between her shoulders. Then, he pulled back, their foreheads together. There was paint on his chest from Lily’s paintbrush. Blue, right over his heart.

“Lils,” James gasped. He wrapped a gentle hand around her wrist. “Lils, mixed messages, mixed messages…”

He was out of breath. Lily had made him that way. Her own heart was beating out of her chest.

“You’re right,” Lily breathed, and stepped away, drawing a fallen strap of her tank top up her shoulder. “You’re right, God, sorry.”

“No, it’s,” James began. “I mean, that was nice. Really nice.”

Lily sent him a wavering smile over her shoulder. “Yeah. Sorry about—” the paint. Everything.

She watched James out of the corner of her eye as he passed his hand through his hair a few times. This time, he came to stand beside her as they worked quietly.

It only took Lily a few moments to not be able to stand it any more. The feeling of him so close, of wanting him the way she did. He was gentle. He kissed in a way that made her want to melt. He had made her laugh, that night that they spent together, in between those kisses and gentle touches.

“Why did you ask me to do this with you, James?” Lily said. “I mean—aren’t you mad at me?”

James didn’t respond for a moment, but finally turned.

“What, we can’t be friends?” he asked.

“I wasn’t very nice to you the other night,” Lily said, and then groaned. “And—I mean, I feel awful about it but…you understand, don’t you?"

“I’m not here to tie you down, Lily,” James said, eyes firm behind his glasses. “If that’s what you think friends do…I don’t know what to tell you.”

“You’re not my friend,” Lily burst out, and then covered her eyes. “I mean—you are. But you’re…”

“It’s fine, Lils,” James said. When Lily looked up, he was shaking his head and stooping to dip his brush again. “Really, let’s just…let’s paint and tan. I’ll get us some sunscreen.”

“James—”

“You kissed me and then you said we weren’t friends. Forgive me if I’d rather stay where we are than go farther or backwards into those two territories that you seem to not want.”

Lily blinked.

James glanced at her, then away. “I should probably be asking you to leave. But I don’t want to lose you. Not yet. Not now, not if you really think that’s so inevitable.”

Lily stared at him. He was looking resolutely at his work, jaw tight. He looked beautiful, even when he was sad and overwhelmed. Lily was so angry at herself.

She didn’t want to lose him, either.

She timed her paint strokes to his, and they worked beside each other quietly.

~

Saint didn’t find what he expected to find.

Instead of Logan coming up the path, Luke Deveaux passed right by his car and open window.

Luke looked down in passing, probably expecting to see an empty vehicle, and then did a double take when, instead, he found Saint sitting there, Frankenstein in one hand, balanced on the steering wheel, and the other elbow resting out the window.

“Hello, tweedle,” Saint said.

Luke stopped walking. He had a gray t-shirt on with a large, navy Nike swoop on it, and black running shorts. Earbuds dangled around his neck, tangled in the two fine gold chains that hung there and trailing all the way into his pocket, where Saint could see the weight of his phone. He was sweaty, as though he had run here from Godric.

“What?” Luke said.

“Bad move,” Saint replied. “Taking your hit from The Shining twins.”

Luke just stared at him. He pushed his sweaty hair out of his eyes. Saint smiled. He liked Deveaux when he was caught off guard. This had never happened before.

“Well—” Luke began. “You’re here, too.”

“Not like that.”

Luke narrowed his eyes. “You said you didn’t deal.”

“I don’t.”

“So,” Luke’s eyes flit around the Jeep’s exterior. “You just sit in junk cars and read—” Luke looked forward. “Shelley?”

Saint frowned in approval and squinted back towards the house. “You say that almost as if you’ve read it.”

“I have.”

“What, in your ninth grade book report?”

“No, with my—” Luke turned his head away, mouth clamping shut.

“I see,” Saint said after a moment. “A bit of a strange parental bonding choice, but all right.”

“Fuck off,” Luke said. “And what the fuck did you call me?”

That was when Saint spotted Logan. He sat up and unlocked the Jeep doors with a click.

“Get in,” Saint said.

Luke scoffed. “Fuck off.”

“That’s the second time you’ve said that in five seconds. Get in, tweedle, or I’ll tell your mother about your candy addiction.”

To Saint’s slight surprise—he was used to people being drawn to him—that seemed to work and Luke complied, but he walked slowly, distrustfully, around the bonnet before sliding into the passenger seat.

Logan was coming up a different path, one stemming from the back of the house to what looked like a side door.

“She wouldn’t care,” Luke said as he slammed the door.

“You in my passenger seat says differently,” Saint said, and glanced at Luke’s wrist. “Nice watch.”

It was gold and glittery. It looked like it had probably been his father’s, and by no means looked like it should be worn on a run.

“Your car smells like wet dog.”

“I don’t have a dog,” Saint replied, eyes on Logan. He had knocked and was waiting now.

“I was talking about Black.”

Saint glanced at him. “You’re funny, Galileo.”

Luke just shook his head, bringing his t-shirt up to wipe his forehead. “Stop calling me tweedle—you think I’m dumb?”

Saint laughed. “No.”

“All right,” Luke put a hand on the door. “I’m getting out.”

“No,” Saint said, and grabbed Luke’s arm, fingers wrapping around his wrist. “Stay here or you’ll blow this for both of us.”

Luke shook him off and Saint pushed his door open. He began his stride up towards the house without looking back. He wondered if Luke was a snoop. The thought made him smile.

Logan saw him when he was half-way to the door, and rolled his eyes, shoving his hands out in an effort to silently say go back.

“Hello, number ten,” Saint said, leaning beside the door. “Now, who are you waiting for?”

“Saint, don’t.”

“Look, I’m hoping it was me, and if so, your ride’s here.” Saint narrowed his eyes. “Let’s go.”

“What do you care if I’m here?”

Saint looked at Logan’s backpack, the one that was always filled with Crucio. Even at the sight of it he imagined that he could feel the sweet, sleepiness that occupied his nights at the orphanage.

The door opened.

“Oh, look,” Amycus said, resting a hand on the door. “Haven’t seen you in a while. What is it you’re calling yourself these days? Saint.”

“Hello, Amy,” Saint smiled. “Nice to see you, we’re going now.”

“You can’t,” Amycus snarled. “He owes us.”

“I’m sure you haven’t lost that much,” Saint said back evenly.

“Oh yeah?” Amycus laughed. “Why don’t we take a look at green-eyes here’s subconscious. You want something bad enough, you like something enough, something feels good enough, then there comes a point where you don’t even know how far you’ve gone to get it. How much Felix have you taken, do you think, Tremblay?”

Logan just looked down.

“See?” Amycus cocked his head. “He doesn’t know. Which means I make make up whatever number I like.”

Saint nodded, thoughtful. “Interesting. What number is that?”

Amycus just grinned. “Your friend here will know when I tell him.”

“Bullshit,” Logan snapped, and Saint held up a hand.

“We’re going now, and you know what?” Saint leaned in. “You don’t know shit about what he wants.”

“Come back without your handler, Tremblay,” Amycus called after them.

Back at the car, Saint could see Luke reading Frankenstein through the windshield.

“Who’s that?”

“Who you got your two hundred bucks for,” Saint murmured.

“What about the two hundred more you just cost me?”

“You’re welcome,” Saint said, and motioned to Luke to get out.

“And what exactly was I supposed to get out of this?” Luke said, crossing his arms.

“A chit-chat with yours truly,” Saint replied. “Logan, get in the car.”

Logan glared, but took Luke’s place in the passenger seat.

Saint slid back into the driver’s side, took Logan’s backpack from him, and slung it into the back seat.

“Oh,” Saint leaned out his window. “And I’m sure you can go right up now.”

“I’m sure I can,” Luke tossed Saint the book. “Don’t forget Potter’s book. Did you steal it, or what?”

If only he knew, Saint thought. 

“Bye, Luke,” Saint called as he turned out of the grove and down the street. He looked in his review mirror and smiled at the sight of Luke standing, framed in it. Then, he put his arm lazily on the steering wheel and let Luke’s golden watch flash in the sunlight on his wrist.

“You didn’t have to fucking—fetch me,” Logan grumbled.

“Yes, I fucking did.”

Logan turned towards him in his seat, and for a moment Saint thought he was going for his backpack, but Logan just looked at him.

“Look,” Logan said.

“I’m driving.”

Logan ignored him.

“There’s a treasure,” Logan said instead. “Leo told me about it. He thinks his dad knows where it is—The Cradle? Look, I—If we can get it—”

“Oh, good,” Saint sighed. “He sells Crucio and he’s a Voldemort tourist.”

Logan blinked. “You know about it?”

Saint scoffed. “Of course I know about it. Everyone knows about it, Logan.”

“Fine, but—if we can get it, then I can pay off—”

“I’m sorry, excuse me, excuse me,” Saint held up a hand, one on the wheel. The houses went from the tall mansions of Salazar to the workshop rows of Helga, to the low houses of The Hollow. “Did you or did you not just place all of your hopes of freedom on a long lost, legendary treasure.”

“Bash—Saint.”

“Answer the question.”

“It’s not my hope, it’s just an option.”

Saint just shook his head. “I don’t know what to tell you.”

“Come on,” Logan urged as Saint stopped the car in front of The Lion. “Isn’t there something you want? Something that much gold could get you?”

“Come to think of it, there isn’t that much I want, no.”

Logan paused, and then said, “Then, is there something you hate?”

When Saint didn’t reply for enough time, Logan took his backpack and got out of the car.

~

Sirius had dreamed about his little brother last night. Only, he had been on Wolfsbane, and Regulus had been on shore. There had been someone else in the boat, too, someone expertly pulling the ropes and taking Sirius farther out to sea. The wind had been warm.

Sirius had woken up thinking about Remus Lupin.

His entire day was thrown off.

Sirius looked over at Saint. “Are we going to talk about it?”

Saint had his head in Dorcas’ lap and his eyes closed. “Pardon?”

Dorcas and Sirius glanced at each other. “Logan.”

“We were at Saint Clair together. What else is there to say?”

“Maybe how he got out.”

“And why,” Dorcas added, running a hand through Saint’s hair. “It might help if you talked about that place more.”

“I’m good, thanks.”

Sirius groaned. “Saint. Come on, that kid looked freaked talking to you and then he bolted. What’s up?”

Saint sighed, his face opening up into a rare moment of softer eyes, and he sat up, nearly facing away from the both of them.

Sirius listened to the crickets outside. Before, he had just wanted to know about the orphanage. Now, he wanted Saint to not have to keep it all inside.

“When I arrived when I was five, Logan and Finn were already there,” Saint said finally. “And its not like its this horrible place. We have beds and food and we go to school together. We have friends. But we’re also locked away. The nuns are strict. The punishments are old-fashioned. A slap. A few days in solitude. The problem is…”

Sirius got up from his perch on the window and sat beside Saint on the ratty old couch they had dragged in. Saint didn’t look at him, but let him and Dorcas lay gentle hands on him, Dorcas’ on his back, Sirius’ one of his crossed ankles.

“I watched kids turn eighteen,” Saint said, voice steely. “And they’d be packing their bags and then—unpacking them.”

“They,” Dorcas began. “You mean they decided to stay?”

Saint just shook his head slowly. “I still haven't completely figured it out. I think—maybe Crucio has something to do with it. It’s the only thing I can think of that would make them stay. I keep having this—this memory of being so tired at night. And these dreams.”

“The plant Crucio is made out of has Melatonin in it,” Dorcas said, brow creased. “It influences the dreaming. The hallucinations.”

“So, what?” Sirius asked. “They stay for Crucio, you think?”

“They work some,” Saint said. “Around the island. But, yeah. They stay.”

“You think they’re bringing money back?” Dorcas asked gently. “To the orphanage?”

Saint shrugged. “I told you. I haven’t completely figured it out. But I’d rather figure it out from the outside. Even when I was seven, I knew something was wrong. But I was older when I arrived. Finn and Logan had been there since they were too young to recognize something like that. They didn’t know anything else.”

“And…you do?” Sirius asked faintly. Saint had never brought up remembering anything about his prior life, his family.

Saint laughed faintly and got up. “Who knows. That’s the thing about memories, right? We tend to make them worse, or make them better.” Sirius watched him go to the sink and turn it on and off. He opened the refrigerator and then closed it. Finally, he stilled.

“But I hate them,” Saint said, almost to himself. “I hate them for making anything feel real.”

Sirius opened his mouth to respond when Dorcas’ phone lit up with a loud ping.

She picked it up. “From Marlene. Apparently we’re invited to a movie night at Potter’s house.”

“Of course we are,” Sirius sighed, and got up and wrapped his arms around Saint from behind. “What do you feel like?”

Saint looked at him over his shoulder. “Well, how could I ever pass that up?”

~

When Logan didn’t find Leo at The Lion, he went to the Knut’s workshop instead. He’d been in there a handful of times now. It was a crowded room, walls-to-ceiling tools and cupboards that organized different found objects. Sea-glass and shards of blue china. There was large glass jars of things like compasses or pieces of weather vanes hanging by woven rope plant holders from the ceiling. There was a forge that was cool now, and there was a long work bench.

He found Leo on the work bench with the garage door open to the street, shirtless and welding something together.

“Oh,” Logan said instead of announcing himself.

Leo looked up, then back down, sparks flying around him. “Hey, what’s up?”

Logan walked a few steps inside and set his backpack—which was still empty—down.

“I want to help you,” he said.

The sparks stopped and Leo pushed his welding mask up. He was sweaty, his cheeks flushed from the heat. “What? With this?”

Logan rolled his eyes and walked in to straddle the other end of the work bench. “The treasure. We need to find the treasure. Think how rich we’d be.”

Leo stared at him for a long moment, then took his mask off and set his equipment down. For a moment, his face looked thunderous. Logan thought he was about to tell him to get out, but the storm dissipated.

“This isn’t a joke to me,” Leo said evenly after another pause. “And it’s not some greedy game, either. That’s not why my dad looked for things like this. He loved history.”

Logan blinked. “You—you don’t want the money?”

Leo rolled his eyes. “Of course I do. What do you think the finder gets?”

“Then what are you saying?”

“I’m saying don’t make me regret telling you. I’m saying my dad was never one to just pawn things off. He wanted things like that on display, for people to learn from.”

“How very, very noble and grand,” came another voice, and they both looked up to see Saint standing there. He had changed since the last time Logan had seen him. He was wearing a t-shirt that said New Orleans Saints.

“Saint?” Leo said.

“Hi there,” Saint gave a little salute. “I have a movie night to go to, apparently, a nice little godly sleepover, but I thought I’d stop by.”

“What are you doing…” Logan began warily.

“Well, come to think of it, there is something I hate.”

Leo tilted his head. “What is he talking about?”

“Not to mention,” Saint continued, and touched the bottom of the hanging compasses. He studied one, then looked at them and grinned.

“I do like gold,” Saint said.

[princehairsupremacy]

25,47, and 56 please:) I feel like this could be supa hot idk👼🍄

25. "Are you naked?!"

47. "Excuse me, do you sell the 9" here?"

56. "It's so wet."

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Word Count: 1.8k

i sorta changed 47 a bit but its still like the same concept

Warnings: mentions of sex toys, use of sex toy, masturbation

afab!reader, she/her pronouns

God, did you miss Harry. Whenever he was away for a long period of time your need for him seemed to multiply by 1000, what else could you do except find something to sort of replace him while he was gone? So, a sex shop is where you were headed, surely you could find something there that would be good enough to satisfy you while he was gone.

The shop was in a discreet corner, you guess the location was because some people might be embarrassed and not want people to see them go in. The shop didn't also make it too obvious it was a sex shop but if you looked close enough in the window you could tell.

When you went in it was a little overwhelming, it was quite busy actually. It had bright pink LED lights seemingly flashing everywhere, giving the shop a sexy and almost feminine kind of atmosphere. There were lots of people floating about, customers looking at the items and staff waiting for someone to ask for help or already helping someone purchase their desired item.

While you were walking about, you weren't really sure what to do so the next best thing would be to ask a worker. Yes, they were trained with all this and they all seemed to be female so surely they weren't going to judge you for wanting to get off, but it was still a little embarrassing.

"Excuse me?" You lightly poked the shoulder of a worker with a brown shaggy mullet. She turned around and smiled at you, she had big bold eyeliner on her small brown eyes, black lipstick with a very shiny gloss on it, and lots of blush on her cheeks, she really suited her makeup, it brought out her features a lot. "

"Hello, what can I help you with." She smiled a big smile with her teeth, she actually had very similar ones to Harry, bunny teeth. "Is this your first time here? I don't think I've seen you before.

"Yes, yes. This is my first time here, I'm just not sure what to get. Could you help me out?" She nodded and you smiled appreciatively. Of course she wasn't judging you, these people willingly work here they didn't come to judge you they're just here to get money, it's not their job to judge.

"Of course, do you have any idea of what you would like?" Did you have any idea? Not really. Hopefully she could help you find something that suits you today so you didn't go home empty handed and unsatisfied.

"Not really, that's why I've asked you. I thought maybe you could like give some recommendations and I could see if I take interest in any. My boyfriends away for quite long sometimes and I just wanted to find something that could like...help me out while he's gone."

"I get it, a woman doesn't deserve to go without a bit of pleasure because her partners gone. Maybe we could start with dildos?" You nodded and she lead you over to the many shelves of them. Wow, that's a lot of dicks.

"Maybe you'd want something similar to your boyfriend? Or something different if it's not up to your standards. No judging of course but, sometimes that's how it is." Oh Harry was definitely up to your standards.

"I think it would be good to get something similar to my boyfriend, actually. Do you sell anything around 9" here?" Her eyes widened a little before nodding her head, trying not to show her surprise.

"This one is 9". I think this would be good for you?"

"That one would be great, thanks a lot."

____________________________________________

Guess it was time you tried this out, it'd been about two days since you got it and Harry was meant to be back tomorrow. Better try it out at least once before he returned.

You pulled it out of it's box which was hidden away, and stripped out of your clothes. You were quite excited, you'd never used a dildo and you could move it however fast and hard you liked, that seemed like something that would appeal to anyone who liked a bit of dick.

You got yourself prepared before starting to slide it into you. What you didn't know is Harry was coming home early to surprise you, he'd never done it before so you didn't expect it from him. Of course the first time he was going to do it, it was today. You didn't hear the front door or bedroom door open.

"Darling, I'm ba- are you naked?!" You jumped up and covered yourself with a blanket to the right of you. "So this is what you do when you're alone? You told me you think of me but I didn't know you meant like this."

"Shutup, Harry. This is the first time I've done it so don't get full of yourself."

"Did you buy a dildo? Lemme see." He tried to pull the blanket away but you kept a strong grip on it but of course he overpowered your strength and pulled it away. "I swear that looks similar to someones I know. Guess you do always think of me."

"Fuck off, Harry. You're so embarrassing." You tried to grab the blanket back to cover yourself but he threw it to the floor so you couldn't get it.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't here to help you. Let me make it up to you right now." He grabbed your thighs and tried to part them but you did your best to keep them pressed together. "Come on baby, spread your legs for me?"

You buried your embarrassment as deep as you could, close your eyes shut tightly and parting your legs slowly. "Open your eyes, no need to get embarrassed." You opened your eyes and saw his, there was no trace of any green in them anymore, they were fully black from lust. He looked down and pressed the heel of his hand against you, making you buck your hips. "You're really desperate aren't you..."

He pressed a finger into you but quickly brought it back out, examining it then looking at you with a smug face. "It's so wet. Were you thinking of me?" You gulped nervously and nodded, your eyes wide and watching his every move. "Promised I'd help you out, didn't I? Don't think you need any teasing today, let's get straight into it."

Thanks you guys for 200 followers, which I've just reached

[topsytervy]

Rented ~ Rafe Cameron

Blurb: Rafe decides to pay your brother Barry to rent you as his date for midsummers and it turns into something a little more.

Word Count: 4,516

Warnings: mentions of drugs, mentions of drinking, swearing, canon Rafe in the beginning, age gap (16 and 19), probably spelling errors, kind of horribly written towards the end, i think that’s all.

I just want to say that it’s not okay to rent out your friends or family members without their consent or just in general so...don’t be Barry. Also, google told me age of consent in North Carolina is 16 but THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION. I DO NOT CONDONE A RELATIONSHIP WHERE ONE (OR MORE) OF THE PEOPLE IN A RELATIONSHIP IS A MINOR AND THE OTHER (OR OTHERS) IS AN ADULT. I DO NOT CONDONE IT AND DO NOT RECOMMEND IT. THIS IS PURELY FICTION AND FOR THE STORY.

~~~~~

Being Barrys younger sister sucked ass. 

He was your legal guardian until you were 18 and he couldn't care less about your well-being if you were being honest. It was well-known that Barry was your brother after all the times he dragged you home from somewhere or constantly called you, telling you to get home. If you opted for turning off your phone, he'd come looking for you or offer someone a gram at half-price if they brought you home.

There was the one time you were at the chateau late one night and he told you that if you weren’t home by 10, you'd be sleeping outside cause he wasn’t going to get up to unlock the door.

JJ dropped you off at 10:01 and, sure enough, a blanket and pillow were sitting on the porch for you. When JJ stopped by later to drop off your phone that you left behind on accident, he saw you sleeping on the ground and took a crowbar to your window.

JJ seemed to be the only one who liked you for you. 

Most of the time when people approached you and became your friend, they did it because they thought that being your friend meant discounted coke. 

It didn't. Frankly, Barry didn’t want you sticking your nose in his little empire. You minded your business and he minded his for the most part.

JJ was probably the first real friend you had. It was very simple of how the friendship formed, he saw someone push you, and he punched them. Why? You don’t know. That was just JJ Maybank for you. 

You repaid the favor the next day when a girl poured her water on him and you broke her nose for him. He laughed as you passed him your sweatshirt so he could dry himself off before you were dragged to the office.

You had also tried convincing Barry to stop selling to Luke Maybank but Barry just said "money is money. I’m not turning away a paying customer just so your little boyfriend can be happy. My happiness comes first. How do you think I feed you?"

8th grade was a wild year.

The first time you ever met Rafe was when he was a senior in high school and you were a freshman.

There was a kegger on the beach and you were on keeping JJ under control duty like every other time. It was a well-known fact around that you could talk JJ down from a fight and keep him from pounding people’s faces in. After all, you liked to avoid conflict and would rather have problems talked out rather than fought out.

So it was no shock when Topper, Kelce, and Rafe showed up and stood in front of you guys for their beers, you had a hand on JJs shoulder and shooting him a glance.

Thankfully, you got through filling their cups without any words said and the party went smoothly for the most part until Topper and JJ got a bit too close to each other.

All you remember is coming back from the bathroom and being dragged to where JJ currently had Topped in a headlock.

"Yo, Y/N! Get your boy off of him!" Rafe had yelled at you. 

You rolled your eyes and flipped him off before rushing over to the two boys.

 You grabbed JJs bicep and leaned in close to him so he could hear you. "J, he's had enough. Let him go." 

JJ hesitated before releasing Topper who immediately had Rafe and Kelce by his side.

Rafe glared at JJ before turning to you. "You better keep your bitch under control before he ends up like his dad."

Your grip tightened on JJ as you held him back from pouncing again. JJ spat some blood into the sand and you handed him to John B before walking over to the older boy.

"You better watch your mouth Rafe before it gets you in trouble." You said evenly.

"Oh really? What? You gonna call your coke dealer brother to come fuck me up?" He practically spat in your face.

You didn’t say anything, just drew back your fist and let it connect with his nose.

"No. I'll do it myself." You hissed, leaning down so only he would hear you as he held his nose.

And that was your first-ever direct interaction meeting with Rafe Cameron. 

It sucked ass and you would’ve thought you two would’ve killed each other the next time you two met.

Except, you didn’t kill each other.

You were so adjusted to him coming in and out of the trailer for coke that you were unfazed when you walked out of your bedroom to see Rafe handing Barry money, a smirk present on his lips as he walked past you and out the door.

"Wow. Kooky cokehead seemed real happy this time. What? You give him a 25% off coupon for his next purchase." You joked, flopping down on the couch.

"No. He left empty-handed. And 200 bucks poorer." Barry grinned, counting out the money.

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. Why on God's green earth would Rafe fork over 200 dollars only to leave empty-handed?

"Guess who's going to midsummer’s as Rafe Cameron’s date?" Barry looked at you with a smile.

Your eyes widened as you stood up. "You rented me to Rafe Cameron without my consent! I'm 16! He's 19!"

"Legal age of consent is 16 here. Besides, it’s not like he asked to fuck you. He just needed a date to midsummers and he wanted to take you." Barry explained, walking towards his room. 

"Jokes on you! The only dress I have is from 5th grade!" 

"Jokes on you cause country clubs gonna be taking care of your wardrobe for the night!" 

You let out a yell of frustration before turning around and walking put the door, hopping onto your bike, and booking it to the beach.

You ditched your bike at the bike rack and ran down the beach searching for your friends. You let pit a breath when you saw Kie and Pope sitting on the sand. 

"Hey Y/N/N. You look like you've seen a ghost. What’s up?" Pope asked once you were close enough. 

"Where's JB and JJ?" You panted, slightly out of breath from running across the sand. 

Kie nodded out towards the water and you watched as JJ surfed a wave with John B. You crossed your arms and watched your two friends make their way back to shore. JJ grinned as he approached you, surfboard under his arm, shaking his hair and causing water droplets to hit your exposed arm.

"Look who finally showed up." The blonde laughed, slinging his arm around you.

"Sorry, I was held up for a few extra minutes because Barry decided that he'd rent me out to Rafe Cameron for Midsummers!" You told him, voice getting louder and angrier with each word you spoke.

"Please tell me that’s a joke." John B looked at you.

"I wish it fucking was! Rafe stopped by, gave Barry 200 bucks to rent me for a night, and then walked out." 

"That’s crazy," JJ said, surfboard long forgotten in the sand.

You opened your mouth to speak but were cut off by a familiar and unwelcomed voice.

"Hey, Y/N. Haven’t seen you in a bit." 

You and your friends turned to face Rafe, feelings JJs arm tighten around your shoulders.

"You saw me an hour ago tops."

Rafe smirked, hands in his pockets. "I just wanted to let you know that I made an appointment for you to get your measurements taken for your dress. It’s over on the mainland at 11:00 tomorrow."

"What’s the name of the place and I'll take her to the appointment?" Kie crossed her arms over her chest as she spoke.

Rafe shot her a glance before looking back at you. "I’m picking you up at about 9:30 so be ready."

"Hey, jackass. Kie said she would take her. Just tell her the name of the joint." JJ took his arm from around you and took a step towards Rafe 

"Y/N/N, your bitch needs to be put in check," Rafe told you calmly as he looked into your eyes.

You grabbed JJs wrist as he went to lunge and looked at Rafe. "One moment, please. I need to converse with my friends."

Rafe watched you lazily as you tugged your friends away from the older boy. 

"This is really bad timing considering we're in the middle of finding 400 mill," JJ whispered.

"Kie, you gotta stay here and help Pope keep JJ and John B put of trouble and help him reason with them." You told her. 

"And leave you alone with the Kook prince?" John B looked at you like you were crazy.

"I’ll be fine. I'll bring pepper spray." You reassured them.

They all looked at each other before sighing and nodding.

Before you could leave, JJ grabbed your wrist. "If things get weird, send me an SOS and I'll be there ASAP. Even if I have to paddle my way to the mainland." 

You nodded and made your way towards Rafe. "Just don’t try to engage in a conversation with me right away. Unless it’s 10 AM or I've had caffeine, I don’t talk in the mornings." You informed the older boy.

"I'll see you then, angel." Rafe sent you a wink before turning to walk away.

You caught JJs arm, knowing your best friend was close to tackling the kook boy into the sand to pound his face in.

JJ turned to you, leaning in close to your ear to speak. "I’m serious. First red flag, you call or text me. I highly doubt consent is a word in Rafe Cameron’s dictionary."

****

You saw Rafe more in the 4 days leading up to midsummers than you had in a year and you’d be lying if you said you hated it.

The first day was the day you needed your measurements taken. The dress had already been picked out and you ignored the fact that the tailor said that it was about time you two came because he was ready to put it back on the rack after day 3 of holding it.

You stood there, completely out of your comfort zone as measurements were taken and jotted down onto a notepad. 

"How quickly can you get the dress altered?" Rafe asked from the couch, watching the process.

"Depends Mr. Cameron. How quickly do you need it?" The tailor responded.

Rafe rubbed his face, groaning. "Let’s see. Four- four and a half days and that’s counting today. We're coming back to the island on the day of midsummers to pick everything else up, today is just a looking day. So, three days." 

The tailor nodded. "We can do that. We'll make it a top priority."

Rafe nodded before his eyes met with yours. 

The tailor exited the room for something and that’s when you spoke. "A looking day?"

"Yeah. Browse through the jewelry and heels and anything else necessary for midsummers." He glanced down to where you were fiddling with your fingers and immediately pulled out his phone. "And a manicure. Might as well throw in a pedicure." 

"Rafe," you said. He didn’t look up from his phone, probably looking at nail salons nearby. "Rafe." You tried again and still nothing. You sighed before walking over to him. "Rafe!" You went to snatch his phone but he caught your wrist. 

"I heard you the first time now what?" He hissed.

You wrenched your wrist away from him. "How could I know when you didn’t even pay me a glance? At least acknowledge me so I know you heard me and then I wouldn't keep saying your name and get on with what I need to say." You huffed.

"Maybe I like it when you say my name." He smirked.

You rolled your eyes as you felt your face heat up, praying that he either would mistake it for a sudden sunburn or would just ignore it.

"What did you want to say?" He asked, stretching out a bit.

"I’m not wearing heels. I can barely walk in my sneakers without breaking a bone. How the hell am I supposed to do heels?" 

Rafe sat there for a few seconds, chewing on his lip before sighing. "What are your thoughts on little miss perfect?"

"Who?"

"My sister. Sarah. Little miss perfect." Rafe rolled his eyes.

You shrugged. You never really even talked to Sarah except for the whole 'get your friend of my boyfriend' fiasco at the boneyard that one night, but that was more towards Kie than you.

"Tomorrow, she’s teaching you how to walk in heels. Even if I have to hold a gun to her head." Rafe finished as the tailor walked back in.

You grimaced at his choice of words as the tailor reassured Rafe that he would get started right away on the dress and make sure it was perfect for the event. 

Rafe smiled, thanked the man for his time, and then beckoned you to follow him out the door. You shot the tailor a smile and a thank you before following Rafe out the door.

"You hungry?" He asked once you both were out on the street. 

You shrugged once again, shoving your hands into your pockets.

Rafe sighed. "You know, you're going to have to talk to me. Like civil, full sentences, classy conversation." 

"I do know how to be civil Rafe. After all, I haven’t swung on quite yet but depending on how the rest of the day goes, maybe that will change." You answered him before looking at his face, "Is that enough sentences for you?"  

You saw him hold back a smile before training his blue eyes on you. "Just answer the question. You hungry or not?"

You smiled. "I guess I could eat."

"Then let’s go eat then get your nails done."

The second day was nothing completely insane. All you did, was sit about until Rafe dropped by, which was the shortest amount of time you spent with him in those four days. Only being with him for an hour that day for literally no reason. 

"Get dressed. We're going out." He told you when you answered the door.

You sighed, looking down at your pajamas.  "But I’m comfy."

Rafe smiled, shaking his head. "Seriously, come on. Let’s get dinner at the Wreck and then eat it at the beach or something." 

“Was this in the itinerary?”

“Not in the slightest but I’m bored and I’m sure you are too.”

You pursed your lips before nodding. "Alright." 

"That didn’t take much convincing." He commented.

"Well, your offering dinner so I’m not gonna say no." 

"You sure that’s all it is."

You looked back to see Rafe’s signature smirk on his face.

"Don’t let it go to your head, Cameron." 

Rafe rolled his eyes before pushing you in the direction of your room. "Go get dressed. I don’t want anyone else seeing you in your pajamas."

You rolled your eyes with a small smile before walking into your room, leaving Rafe in the hallway.

The evening on the third day was Sarah teaching you how to successfully walk in heels without you ending up in the hospital. 

"Why the hell are these so tall?" You asked, looking up at Sarah and Rafe who sat on the couch.

"Good question. Why are they so tall, Sarah? I said to teach her how to walk in heels, not break her ankles before midsummers." Rafe looked at his younger sister.

"You wanted her to learn how to walk in heels, those are heels. I don’t know what else you expected Rafe." Sarah shot at her brother.

"I don't know, something that still has her feet somewhat horizontal to the ground, not diagonal." Rafe glared at her.

"Then you should’ve bought heels for her to practice in."

"Oh, so it’s my fault?" 

"Yeah. Yeah, it is." 

Rafe didn’t respond, just stood up and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Sarah rolled her eyes before turning her attention back to you.

"Okay, I might have a pair that’s an inch shorter." 

"Bring them out."

You ended up spending the night at the Camerons that night, much to the pogues displeasure.

You just got done brushing your teeth and were laying on Sarah’s bed in a pair of her pajamas when Sarah spoke up.

"So, John B…" 

You shot your head up from the book you found in her room that looked somewhat interesting.

"What about John B?" 

"What’s he like? You know, besides a surfer dude and a felon."

You raised an eyebrow. "What the hell are you on about?"

"He seems… I don’t know… not boring. Not bland. So much better than this life." Sarah sighed, flopping onto her back, arms stretched out.

"Barf in my mouth." You rolled your eyes.

"What? You've never looked at someone and felt a smile tug at your lips for no reason or they look at you and you feel like you are the most gorgeous person in the world. They give you a rush of adrenaline or… or make your head all cloudy."

"Oh my god. You barely even know John B. He's like every other teenage guy. Disgusting, horny, and hungry." You answered. 

Sarah sat up. "That’s the thing. We hung out the entire day today. That’s why I told Rafe to have you come over in the evening. Because I was gone all day."

"So you asked me to spend the night to talk about one of my best friends so you can get in his pants. You've got Topper." You rolled your eyes, getting up from the bed.

"No." She grabbed my wrist. "I think I really like him. He takes me away from the bubble wrap. It’s exciting, the life you guys live. Topper doesn’t take me away from the bubble wrap. If anything, he adds more. When I kissed John B-"

You looked at her. "Wait. What? Listen I like Topper about as much as I like brussel sprouts but I don’t think he deserves his girlfriend kissing another dude before she gets the balls to break up with him." 

"It just happened. And it felt...amazing. I felt breathless like I was on cloud 9." She smiled, ignoring the last bit.

"I'm sure you did. I’m gonna go get some water." You excused yourself.

"Wait." She called.

You turned to look at the blonde and she chucked a pair of heels at you. "Put those on and walk downstairs."

You rolled your eyes before slipping the shoes onto your feet and proceeding put of her room.

Rafe was in the kitchen, snacking on some chips while he was scrolling through his phone. His head shot up when he heard the sound of heels on the stairs. 

He looked towards the entrance of the kitchen and smiled when he saw you enter. 

"You look ridiculous wearing pajamas and heels." He commented. 

You feigned offense, staring at the older boy. "You mean this isn't fashionable? I call it sleeping chic." You did a twirl and Rafe chuckled.

"You know what? It looks wonderful." Rafe placed his arms on the table and leaned forward, watching your every move.

"Your sister threw them at me before I came downstairs. I assume for me to practice but, not to toot my own horn, I think I’m getting the hang of walking in them."

"Go ahead and toot your horn cause if you waltzed up to me at a party the same way you did coming into the kitchen, I would've thought you've been wearing heels your entire life." 

"Why thank you." You grinned, opening the fridge and grabbing a bottle of water. 

You walked over to the island and slid into the seat next to Rafe, opening the bottle before taking a drink.

"You know something, Rafe?" 

"Hmm."

"I haven’t hated spending these past few days with you. You're surprisingly not that annoying." 

Rafe sent you a smile. "Yeah?" 

You nodded, looking at him.

"I haven’t hated spending these days with you either." He nudged you with his shoulder.

You stood up as you grabbed your water before placing a hand on his shoulder.  "See you tomorrow."

"Yep. Don’t forget we’re going to the mainland tomorrow to pick up everything." He cleared his throat.

You nodded and said goodnight before heading back upstairs and into Sarah’s room, shutting the door behind you.

The night of midsummer was hectic. You and Rafe quickly went to the mainland to pick up the dress, heels, and accessories before grabbing some lunch.

It wasn’t long before you asked Rafe to drop you off at Kie’s to get ready. You had a shower before Kie and her mom helped you get ready, her mom gushing about how Rafe will drop dead when he sees you.

You were blushing bright red at the thought as Kie rolled her eyes before you quickly excused yourself so you could change into your dress and pull on your heels that were picked up earlier that day. Rafe insisted on getting you a necklace but you declined once you saw the price tag, telling him you had a nice pair of earrings and a bracelet at home you could wear that you'd ask Kie to pick up.

After Kiara’s mom took pictures, you were at the event, completely out of your element as you tried to find Rafe which was weirdly difficult considering his height.

You heard a low whistle and whipped around, tensing slightly before relaxing. Rafe stood there in a baby blue suit, a small smile on his face as he looked at you.

"You look stunning, Y/N." He complimented.

You felt your cheeks heating up again as you spoke. "Thanks. You look rather dashing yourself."

His smile grew before he offered you his arm. "Shall we mingle?"

You linked your arm through his. "If we have to."

****

After half an hour of mingling and Rafe getting you both a drink, Rafe set down his empty glass. 

"Let’s dance, angel." 

You sighed, slightly flushing at the nickname this time around, before finishing off your drink and setting down the glass. You followed Rafe onto the dance floor and placed your hands on his shoulders as his own went to your waist.

You two swayed side to side, a silence hanging over the two of you for a bit before you broke it.

"Why me?" 

"Hmm." 

"Why did you pay Barry to rent me for a night when any kook girl here would’ve gone with you and it wouldn’t have cost you anything?" You asked quietly.

You saw Rafe swallow before answering. "I...I…don't really know.” He lied, feeling his breathing pick up slightly.

"Rafe. Breathe." You told him.

He did as you said before looking around, his eyes narrowing. 

"I'll be right back." He muttered, removing his arms from your waist and starting to walk away.

"Rafe," You said, grabbing his wrist.

He turned to look at you before turning back to where his eyes were previously looking, chewing on his bottom lip in thought.

You followed his gaze to see JJ looking at you, concern written on your best friend’s face. 

"Leave him alone, Rafe. He’s not doing anything. Just….lets keep dancing." 

Rafe’s eyes went back to yours and he nodded slowly.

You mouthed a quick I’m fine to JJ before putting your hands back on Rafe’s shoulders. 

"Can I tell you something? Well, a couple of things." 

You nodded.

"Well, for starters, I've been trying to get off coke."

"That’s great, Rafe." You grinned, squeezing his shoulders with your hands.

"It’s hard. But I find it easier to not think about getting high when...um...you're with me." Rafe admitted, feeling his cheeks getting hot.

You felt your breathing pick up and tried your best to keep it under control. "Really?" You breathed out.

He nodded before taking his hands off your waist and reaching into his pocket. "I know you said no to me getting you that one necklace but here. I picked this up when you were at the nail salon that day we were getting your dress altered." 

Rafe handed you a little box and you could practically feel the nervousness radiating off of him as you took it in your own shaking hands. Rafe, for the first time in ages, felt shy in front of a girl and scared of being rejected.

You opened the box to see a little necklace resting in the box, the word angel attached to it. 

"How much was it?" You asked, not wanting him to spend any more money on you than he needed to for this event.

Too late though.

Rafe scratched the back of his neck as he looked down. "I’d rather not answer that question."

Your eyes widened and you smacked his chest. "Rafe Cameron!" You whispered harshly before putting it back in his hands. "I can't accept and keep that. I already planned on giving you the dress and heels back and paying you back for the manicure and pedicure. I can’t keep this in good conscience just because I agreed to be your date tonight. You don’t have to give me a present, you already paid Barry and bought this shit."

Rafe licked his lips as he looked around before looking back towards you. "I shouldn’t have paid Barry unless I was renting Barry, I should've paid you. I technically should've just asked you without paying but I was nervous and I was scared. I knew Barry would let me take you out for the right price and I took advantage of it. It’s just- I caught feelings for you somehow in the last month okay. Like actual feelings and I- I think you're-"

"An angel. Your angel." You finished for him.

Rafe nodded sheepishly before shoving the box back into his pocket. "I always turned to coke for comfort and I feel like when I’m with you, I don’t need to turn to coke for that comfort. I can turn to you. I’m sorry. It’s stupid, I'll just go." 

Rafe turned around but you grabbed him yet again. "It’s not stupid." You whispered before pressing your lips to his.

Rafe was surprised for a second before he kissed back, his hands coming up to cup your face.

After you two pulled away, Rafe smiled. "Does this mean you'll take the necklace?"

You nodded before reaching into his pocket and pulling out the box. 

"Can you?" You asked, gesturing towards the box.

"I would love to." He said, taking the necklace in his hands and placing it around your neck, doing the clasp in the back. 

"Told you she would catch feelings in those four days," Pope stated as he looked at JJ.

JJ clenched his jaw before turning away. "I gotta go find Sarah."

~~~~~

[astonishinglegends]

Ep 205: Terry Carnation's "Dark Air" and Rich Hatem

“Imagine the universe, compressed on the head of a pin…”

– Scott’s remembrance of a Carl Sagan quote, which, turns out, probably originates from a parody impression of Carl Sagan

Description:

We have a very special guest joining us tonight, metaphysical "astralnaut," philosopher of the liminal, "Pope of the Paranormal," and host of the AM Radio talk show Dark Air, Terry Carnation. Terry first got his start in the paranormal radio genre when unexpectedly thrust into taking over for another show. While working as a late-night rock n' roll Disc Jockey for an FM station in Buffalo, NY, in 1992, Reginald Wilcox, the host of the paranormal call-in show that aired after Terry's slot was mysteriously murdered while Terry was in the bathroom... or so he claims. In his unflappable sense of duty, apparently stronger than his sense of legal obligation, Terry immediately took over the role of consigliere for listeners stupefied by the supernatural. And in Terry's words, "that's how a legend was created." Now, after a three-year hiatus, Terry Carnation returns with a new podcast, also called Dark Air, available starting April 1, 2021, wherever podcasts are given away for free. While you may not have heard of him, there will be something uneasily familiar about his voice and visage. And the audience will come to know his strange power for tearing off the head of disbelief and reaching down deep into our souls to yank out the viscera of our darkest fears and mysteries. Wrapped around our interview with Terry, our good buddy Rich Hatem joins us once again to discuss his latest adventures and projects. We'll also con him into playing our version of a game show, in the spirit of America's NPR radio program Wait Wait... Don't Tell Me! and Britain's Would I Lie to You? We'll tell Rich three outrageous paranormal stories, and he has to guess which one is fake. Please join us for an episode of inscrutable levity.

Reference Links:

Terry Carnation’s website, TerryCarnation.com

Terry Carnation and Dark Air on Audioboom, where you can subscribe to the platform of your choice

Dark Air with Terry Carnation on Apple Podcasts

Follow Terry Carnation on Instagram

Follow Terry Carnation on Twitter

Terry Carnation on Facebook

Where to stream DC Titans

“TERRIBLE FLYING JELLY BAGS aka DOMSTEN BLOBS: (SWEDEN)” by Rob Morphy on cryptopia.us

National Public Radio’s Wait Wait...Don't Tell Me!

The BBC One panel show involving true and false tales, Would I Lie To You?

“The Story Behind The Haunted Donkey Lady Bridge In Texas Will Send Chills Down Your Spine” from OnlyInYourState.com

“South Texas Haunted Folklore: The Tale of the Converse Werewolf” from KSAT.com

On a totally unrelated subject…

Rainn Wilson is best known for playing the role of Dwight Schrute on NBC's The Office. Additional film and television credits include Galaxy Quest, Almost Famous, The Rocker, Super, Six Feet Under, Juno, Backstrom, Star Trek Discovery, Thom Pain, The Meg, Mom, Don't Tell a Soul and Utopia.  He will also be appearing in the forthcoming podcast Dark Air with Terry Carnation. Wilson co-founded SoulPancake, a digital media company, and the Lide Foundation, an educational initiative in rural Haiti that empowers at-risk women and girls through the arts.

Dark Air with Terry Carnation was created by Rainn Wilson and Aaron Lee and is produced by Thom Harp and Chris Kelly. Dark Air with Terry Carnation is a production of Imperial Mammoth, Audioboom and Kelly&Kelly. Theme music by Marcos Moscat

This episode features the voice talents of Jinous Khjadivian and Dana Davis as the two audience callers.

Please help out our good friend Stan Gordon, by purchasing his books on Amazon and Barnes & Noble – you’re gonna love ‘em!

At Barnes & Noble:

Silent Invasion: The Pennsylvania UFO-Bigfoot Casebook

Astonishing Encounters: Pennsylvania’s Unknown Creatures, Casebook 3

Really Mysterious Pennsylvania: UFOs, Bigfoot, and Other Weird Encounters, Casebook 1

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Credits:

Episode 205: Terry Carnation’s “Dark Air“ and Rich Hatem. Produced by Scott Philbrook & Forrest Burgess; Audio Editing by Sarah Vorhees Wendel. Sound Design by Ryan McCullough; Tess Pfeifle, Producer, and Lead Researcher; Research Support from the astonishing League of Astonishing Researchers, a.k.a. The Astonishing Research Corps, or "A.R.C." for short. Copyright 2021 Astonishing Legends Productions, LLC. All Rights Reserved.

[weekendwarriorblog]

THE WEEKEND WARRIOR 6/25/21: F9, WEREWOLVES WITHIN, THE ICE ROAD, FALSE POSITIVE, I CARRY YOU WITH ME and More!

Well, June is quickly coming to an end, but that means it’s officially summer. No, for real this time. Summer started June 21, and that means we have the latest attempt to revive the box office, and really, if this doesn’t do it, then we’re sunk. Doomed. It’s over, and Jeff Bock, the Streamer Relations guy, has won. We’re in the endgame now. Go to the movies this weekend, and don’t let Jeff Bock win!

Before we get to the theatrical releases, the 20th Tribeca [formerly Film] Festival ended over the weekend, and it certainly “looked different” as we were reminded every time some local celebrity introduced a movie on the festival’s virtual platform. As far as the movies I saw, a few are mentioned below but generally, the documentaries once again outplayed any of the narrative features, which was pretty much the same with other festivals this year. Besides the Rita Moreno doc that I reviewed last week, I quite enjoyed A-Ha the Movie, a documentary that covers the famous ‘80s “one hit wonders” travails since their first hit album and the ubiquitous “Take on Me.” It’s a great doc that really shows what can happen when you try to keep the band together even when you stop travelling or even talking to each other. Also Bitchin’: The Sound and Fury of Rick James was another great musical doc about a funk/soul singer who I really never knew very much about, so it was quite educational. I also liked 7 Days quite a bit, and that was one of the better narrative films at the fest.

It felt like there were two very different Tribecas. There was one for the elitist journalists who were allowed to attend all the in-person screenings and parties, and there was the one for the rest of us -- where we were just sitting at home watching stuff on our TV sets, just like we did with Sundance and SXSW. And make no mistake, as someone who has been covering Tribeca since Year Two (where I *bought* all my tickets), it definitely felt like I was being pushed aside by the current Tribeca regime who just wants to be seen as something exclusive just for certain people, including as a woke festival catering to the underrepresented (but not really… if that was the case, they would have given free tickets out to people who live in the areas of the city where they set-up their pop-up screenings). I only know a few locals who received the better in-person badge -- pretty much the entire staff at IndieWire, for instance -- but as someone who has covered the festival for years and received a Hudson Pass for the effort, it definitely felt like I don’t really need to cover Tribeca anymore. It’s just not the elite festival it thinks it is, and as far as I’m concerned, it will never be Cannes, it will never be Sundance, and it will never even be SXSW. It continues to be a festival with zero identity that caters to the rich, white New Yorkers that already get special treatment wherever they go. I’m not even sure how much of it even takes place in Tribeca anymore, since the premier location for movie premieres seemed to be at Hudson Yards, which is about four miles North of “Ground Zero,” the area affected by 9/11 that precipitated the need for something like the Tribeca Festival in the first place. I feel that this year’s festival was an even bigger disappointment than last year’s virtual only, but that’s because they’ve finally just given up on the press they don’t feel are worthy of covering them. So yeah, not for me.

It’s hard to believe that F9 (Universal Pictures), the ninth movie in the “Fast Saga.” is finally being released in North America, since I felt like I reviewed it five years ago. Actually, it was only a month ago, but it just seems like forever since I’ve been so busy this month.

In case you have no idea what to expect and wanna know: Vin Diesel is back as Dominic Torreto, and this time we meet another member of his real family, brother Jakob (John Cena), who is now working with the criminal spy organization Cypher. Most of the gang are back, except for Dwayne Johnson’s Agent Hobbs and Jason Statham’s Deckard Shaw, who you may remember went off to make Hobbs and Shaw a few years back. In fact, that last movie was the last movie in the franchise, which was supposed to act as a tie-over between 2017’s Fate of the Furious and F9, which was originally supposed to come out in 2020. Got all that?

Hobbs and Shaw opened with around $60 million in early August, which is generally one of the few weekends in the late summer where a movie could still open big. That was the lowest opening for the franchise in over ten years, because ever since 2009’s Fast & Furious, every single movie has opened over $70 million and closer to $100 million or more. 2013’s Fast and Furious 6 and 2017’s The Fate of the Furious didn’t quite hit a $100 million opening, but still, it’s a pretty good barometer of how big the franchise was in the before-times. James Wan’s Furious 7 still sports the biggest opening with $147 million in early April 2015, hampered by the year-long delay after one of the film’s stars, Paul Walker, died in a car crash a year earlier. Walker’s death may have helped drive audiences to the movie with the same morbid curiosity way as Christopher Nolan’s The Dark Knight back in 2008. (Furious 7 grossed $353 million domestically, which is also a high watermark for the franchise domestically.)

The Fate of the Furious grossed slightly less than the previous two installments and then Hobbs and Shaw ended up with $173 million, which is nothing to sneeze at… unless your movie ended up costing $200 million, which that one did. We’re talking about very expensive movies here, and one presumes F9 is up there in that $200 million range, but it bodes a couple questions. Was the success of the franchise since Fast 5 mainly due to “franchise Viagra” Dwayne Johnson and was that helped by the addition of Statham? With the two of them gone, does that take away from the movie’s potential or do people like Diesel, Tyrese Gibson’s Roman, Ludacris and the other long-timers like Michelle Rodriguez and Jordana Brewster enough to make this an opening weekend must-see?

There might some questions whether theaters in bigger cities like New York and L.A., where F9 would generally do big business, will be as full as normal -- even with full capacity finally being allowed. The other question is whether Universal may have released this movie overseas too far in advance of the States. Think about it. When you start to think about movie piracy and where a lot of that comes from, it goes right to China, and a movie like this at a time like this when people are cautious about running to theaters, well if you walk down the street and someone is selling a copy for 5 bucks, why wouldn’t you buy it? That’s the reason why studios release movies day and date across the globe, or at least they try to. Piracy used to be a big thing hurting the movie business, but that seems to have been forgotten.

Reviews for the movie have been mixed -- I already reviewed the movie over at Below the Line -- but about the same as the last two installments, so those won’t necessarily stop people from going to the movies, since this is a classic summer popcorn movie where it feels like everyone should go see it opening week. Like in the past, F9 will open Thursday night for previews, but it seems to getting more Thursday night previews than normal -- I’ve seen five to six screenings in many locations -- and that might because Universal realizes how important this release is and how many people will be looking to see if it can revive theatrical.

I think I’m going to say that F9 will make around $72 to 74 million this weekend, which takes it back to Fast & Furious days, but I do think audiences will like the movie more than critics, and because of that, the decision to make two more movies will probably be warranted.

I was very excited to see Josh Ruben directing another movie so soon after last year’s Scare Me -- a terrific horror-comedy you can watch on Shudder -- and his latest film, WEREWOLVES WITHIN (IFC Films), based on the Ubisoft game, is just as funny AND scary. It stars Sam Richardson as Finn Wheeler, the new park ranger arriving in the small and remote town of Beaversfield, which seems to have just as much politics and backbiting as the biggest of the cities. He quickly becomes friends with the bubbly postwoman, Cecily (Milana Vayntrub), as she introduces him to the quirky townsfolk… oh, yeah, and there is something brutally mauling them to death.

The premise for Werewolves Within seems fairly simple, and maybe that’s because it is based on a VR game where I assume you have to figure out who is the vampire, so that’s pretty much what’s going on as Finn, Cecily and seemingly the entire town wind up locking themselves up in the Beaversfield Inn trying to figure out who is killing the others. Thankfully, there are more layers built into the ongoing relationships between the townsfolk.

Ruben’s got a lot of things going for his second feature film, the first thing being a super-funny script by Mishna Wolff, but also the amazing cast he put together that not includes Richardson and Vayntrub with some brilliant chemistry but also the likes of Michaela Watkins and Michael Chernus, who can never do wrong in my book. Those two elements alone would make Werewolves Within worthwhile, but Ruben ably takes on the challenges of a much bigger cast than his previous movie and finds a way to keep the viewer constantly on edge and interested in what will happen next, especially to some of the characters who are not as jovial or friendly as Richardson’s Finn.

But what works best about the movie is that there are plenty of unexpected twists, maybe some more obvious than others, and the fact you never really know who might die next or house keeps the movie quite entertaining. It also shows off Ruben’s great skills at combining horror and humor, something that’s very difficult for even the best directors, but when you’ve got it -- as Ruben proved so perfectly with Scare Me -- then you might as well use it to its fullest.

It’s hard to describe how well the humor works without using jokes ala something like Shaun of the Dead, but it’s more of a light-hearted charm that one wouldn’t expect to go so well with the dire situation in which the characters find themselves. It doesn’t hurt that many of the characters are so unlikable that getting their comeuppance adds to that humor. If you’re expecting a lot of werewolf transformations or even werewolves plural, you might be slightly disappointed, but it’s nice that a movie can be its own thing without trying to copy other films in the horror subgenre.

Either way, Ruben is 2 for 2 with his second attempt at comedy-horror, which ventures just far enough away from Scare Me to make me think that he’ll continue to be a great voice in the much-maligned and hard-to-muster horror subgenre.

Werewolves Within just debuted at the Tribeca Festival, and it will be released in theaters this Friday and then be On Demand and Digital starting July 2. I’ll also have an interview with Josh Ruben over at Below the Line a little later today, too, so check that out!

Not getting a theatrical release in the United States unfortunately is Jonathan Hensleigh’s THE ICE ROAD (Netflix), starring Liam Neeson as a truck driver in Winnipeg, whose special skill is driving that truck across the frozen lake up north. When a diamond mine collapses in the very north side of Canada, it’s up to him and a crew of other ice truckers to drive their big rigs across the frozen lake to save the men trapped in the mine.

I quite liked this movie that definitely marks a return of Hensleigh to some of those great action movies he wrote in the ‘90s, like Die Hard with a Vengeance, but this is also a significantly better action movie than some of the ones he’s directed, like the 2004 The Punisher. The sad fact is that I’ve been pretty disappointed with Neeson’s recent film choices, particularly in the last year when disappointments like The Honest Thief and The Marksman managed to get theatrical releases even during the pandemic. The Ice Road is a much better movie, maybe because Hensleigh wrote and directed it himself, but also he had much better source material in the docuseries, Ice Road Truckers, and he clearly did his research into these 18-wheelers on these dangerous trips across iced-over lake that could crack at any time. Hensleigh uses this idea well to tell a story where much of the movie takes place on that dangerous ice.

There are elements to the story that might not work quite as well, such as the decision to have Neeson’s brother Gurty (Marcus Thomas) be suffering from such horrible PTSD that it makes him almost a bigger hindrance than a help on the trip. On the other hand, the movie does have the always great Laurence Fishburne in a smaller role and the real breakout has to be Amber Midthunder, the bad-ass Indigenous Tantoo who proves that she can drive as well as the guys. I also found that Hensleigh’s use of the corporation as the ultimate antagonist in sending these truckers to their potential deaths more for the money than to actually save lives works well to add to what would have been a simple rescue mission.

The Ice Road is a pretty solid (ugh, bad pun) action-thriller that has some elements of other similar movies but then really throws the viewer for a loop with the amazing on-ice truck driving stunt work, that keeps one invested while really putting it ahead of some of Neeson’s other recent action fare.

You can read my interview with Hensleigh over at Below the Line.

Next up are two very different movies that played at the 20th Tribeca Festival over the past week

Heidi Ewing’s I CARRY YOU WITH ME (Sony Pictures Classics) finally gets a theatrical release after getting its Oscar qualifying run way back in December and premiering at the Sundance Film Festival in January 2020! Based on the true story of Mexican immigrant lovers Ivan and Gerardo, who travel from Mexico to New York City and are reunited after decades apart and many struggles to rekindle their romance.

This is an interesting movie for Ewing, best known for her award-winning docs like Jesus Camp, because it’s not an easy story to tell or movie to make, covering a span of decades, and using flashbacks to tell the individual stories of how these two men discovered their homosexuality while surrounded by a toxic culture who hates them for loving each other. We meet Iván as he’s cooking in a Mexican restaurant in New York before we flashback to Pablo, Mexico in 1994 when he’s younger (and played by Armando Espitia), married with a young son, but when he meets Gerardo (Christian Vázquez) at a gay club and the two click, he’s put in a place where he has to keep his sexuality hidden if he doesn’t want to lose his son. As the romance blossoms, Ivan realizes that he needs to go to America if he really wants his culinary skills (he even went to school) to be used, because in Pablo, he’s relegated to being a dishwasher.

Ivan decides to make the dangerous trek across the border with his best friend Sandra (Michelle Rodríguez -- not the one in F9) with the promise to return to Gerardo. Things don’t necessarily go as planned but decades later they’re reunited, and struggle to make it in New York City as restaraunteurs. As you watch their story unfold, you can fully understand why Ewing might want to tell this story, co-writing the script with Alan Page Arriaga, but there are still elements of documentary in this narrative beautifully shot by Cinematographer Juan Pablo Ramírez AMC.

Unfortunately, those elements of documentary are what really confused me, because there are moments in the present day when the real Ivan and Gerardo are playing themselves, but then there are times when the two main actors are made up to look older, and I couldn’t really figure out what was happening at times, maybe due to some of the more dream-like nature of the storytelling.

Even so, Ewing has created a terrific character piece and quite a warm and wondrous love story, even if it’s plagued by violence and discrimination due to their roots and their homosexuality. I couldn’t help but think that I might have liked Moonlight more if it wasn’t told in such a linear fashion, separated into three chapters. By using the flashbacks to keep the viewer fully focused on what’s happening, Ewing creates something more on par with Cuaron’s Y Tu Mama Tambien that feels just as authentic as if Ewing were a gay Mexican herself.

Probably the weakest part is the second act where we watch Ivan trying to get to America, because that’s been done in so many other movies, including Cary Joji Fukunaga’s earlier film, Sin Nombre, and that feels a little less unique or special compared to the rest of the duo’s story.

It’s a shame that I Carry You With Me wasn’t able to build any awards traction, partially due to Covid and the long gap between festival appearances. Either way, it proves that Ewing is a lot more than a “mere” documentary filmmaker, able to mix those skills with that of a sharp narrative filmmaker with a keen eye for storytelling. This is a particularly strong character piece and a beautiful love story based on two real men, unlike anything I’ve seen in recent memory.

Honestly, I’ve given up on figuring what Sony Classics is doing in terms of their theatrical releases. I guess this could be opening in New York and Los Angeles or in more cities. I have no idea, because no one tells me anything. But I also wanted to share the review by my friend J. Don Birnam that he wrote out of the New York Film Festival last year. He has reasons to be able to connect with this material much more than I can, which is probably why his review is so damn good: http://splashreport.com/nyff-film-review-i-carry-you-with-me-an-inspiring-story-of-triumph-by-rarely-depicted-peoples/

Not quite as good is John Lee’s horror-thriller FALSE POSITIVE (Hulu/A24), starring Ilana Glazer from Broad City, who also cowrote the screenplay with Lee. It’s a very different non-comedic role for Glazer in which she plays Lucy, a pregnant woman, who finds her pregnancy turned into a nightmare, as she puts herself in the hands of the nefarious ob/gyn Dr. John Hindle, played by the great Pierce Brosnan, who happened to be her husband’s (Justin Theroux) medical teacher.

Man, did I want to like this psychological thriller, because I think Glazer is just the best in Broad Street, and the fact that she co-wrote this and is trying to do something unexpected out of the ordinary just thrills me to the end. That being said, her character Lucy seems to be a rather standard powerful NYC woman with a good job where she’s better than the rest, who ends up going through a torturous experience as an expectant mother who isn’t able to trust her own doctor. Part of the conflict comes when Julie is told that she is having more than one baby, but she has to choose between twin boys or a single girl, because she’s told that she won’t be able to take all three of them to term.

It’s an okay premise dealing with the many worries that women must have while pregnant, and things get crazier and crazier as Julia begins seeing everything, and while Glazer isn’t bad while playing a straight-up no-humor dramatic role, it’s hard not to see her more as a Debra Messing type when she has her hair straightened out to look different.

The horror elements are decent whether it’s the body horror idea of having a number of dead baby fetuses inside you, which is pretty creepy, and Lee doesn’t do a bad job with the trippier parts of the movie, though I feel like it overuses and leans on the use of blood to step up the horror, and it doesn’t work that well. There are also aspects to the story that feel somewhat predictable only because there are only a few way things can go the way things are set-up.

It’s obvious that Glazer and Lee wanted to make social commentary on the male-dominated field of childbirth with some of the weirder aspects of the movie, like the Stepford Nurses that constantly surround Brosnan’s Dr. Hindle. Having them there smiling eerily always boosts Lucy’s suspicion that her husband might be cheating with one or both of them. Still, there are too many aspects of False Positive (including the fact it was produced by A24) that makes one think that this is another attempt at the kind of “elevated humor” that’s been done so much better by the likes of Ari Aster and Robert Eggers.

Ultimately, False Positive is okay, it certainly tries hard, it’s maybe not quite as good as I hoped or expected of what might have been a perfectly fine vehicle for Glazer. I certainly had high hopes for what she might do with a pregnancy thriller, that this movie just never quite delivers.

False Positive debuts on Hulu this Friday.

From Sweden comes the horror film THE EVIL NEXT DOOR (Magnet) from filmmakers Oskar Mellender and Tord Danielsson, which follows a new stepmom Shirin (Dilan Gwyn), who has moved into a duplex with her partner Fredrik and his young son, Lucas (Eddie Eriksson Dominguez), but they soon learn that strange things start happening that seem to be coming from the abandoned house next door.

I’m always open to see what’s coming from the Scandinavian countries, because there’s been a lot of particularly good genre over the years -- Let the Right One In, for instance -- but I got the impression right away that originality was not going to be in the cards for this one, which immediately has the small boy having an imaginary friend, who you know is either an evil spirit or one of the spirit’s previous victims. Sadly, that’s the case here, and without the originality of some of the original horror films it's emulating, The Evil Next Door just seems like an international copycat.

If you’re even a modicum fan of modern horror, you’re likely to have seen many better versions of this movie, which is just kind of bland overall, but constantly resorts to scenes of a woman walking through the house acting scared and the cheap scares that inevitably come. This one even uses the eerie “next day” chapters that have been used in so many other horror movies, including the Paranormal Activity movies.

Mellender and Danielsson certainly come off as capable filmmakers, and they could do far worse than the incredibly dramatic and emotional performance by Gwyn -- the movie does get slightly better as it goes along -- but the feeling that you’ve seen it all before and know what to expect completely detracts from appreciating any of the finer aspects. For instance, there’s some decent creature design work but even that sometimes goes for the expected in terms of the spirit’s look. The filmmaker’s skills are also evident from the use of music and sound design, which is crucial to a movie like this working in any fashion, but it’s hard to fully appreciate it when you feel you know where things are going.

The Evil Next Door just feels like a movie made by fans of the far superior “Conjuring” movies who managed to cop some of the tricks to scare the viewer, but without fully understanding why those movies work due to original characters and storytelling ideas. These are decent filmmakers, but I’d really like to see them do something more unique or original.

If you live in NYC and feel like going up to Harlem, Questlove’s documentary, Summer of Soul, is opening a week early, this Friday at the AMC Magic Johnson in Harlem, New York, and it’s also opening at El Capitan in Los Angeles. It will open in theaters elsewhere and on Hulu NEXT Friday, July 2, so I’ll write more about it in next week’s column.

Debuting on Apple TV+ Friday is Drew Zanthopoulos’ documentary FATHOM (Apple TV+), which follows scientists Dr. Ellen Garland and Dr. Michelle Fournet as they study the whale songs of the humpback whale and try to figure out ways to communicate with them and understand whale culture. Oddly, this is one of quite a few whale documentaries coming out over the next few weeks.

Another movie that I just don’t have time to review just now is Eytan Rockaway’s gangster thriller, LANSKY (Vertical), which stars Harvey Keitel, Sam Worthington, John Magaro, AnnaSophia Robb and Minka Kelly. Worthington is down-and-out writer David Stone, who gets a call from the legendary gangster Meyer Lansky (played by Keitel), who has been of the grid for decades but worth a fortune. Stone meets with Lansky as the FBI closes in on the Godfather of organized crime, and he’s told about Lansky’s time with Murder Inc. and the National Crime Syndicate.

Other movies out this week, include:

SILENT NIGHT (Samuel Goldwyn)

SISTERS ON TRACK (Netflix)

TOO LATE (Gravitas Ventures)

Next week is the 4th of July (on Sunday), and we’re getting FOREVER PURGE (Universal) and THE BOSS BABY 2: FAMILY BUSINESS (also Universal!!?!?)... I guess someone really wants to dominate the box office again, huh?

[johnnypsycho]

As a rule, generally, when I’m hitchhiking I avoid major interstates and cities and concentrate on back roads, small towns, and rural routes; everyone is always in such a hurry on the interstate. The rest areas won’t let you sleep in them. Too many semi trucks, driving too close to the shoulder. Too many bridges with no emergency lane. There is too much noise...for me hitchhiking isn’t about the destination, it’s about the journey. If I’m going to walk 3,000 miles, I want to enjoy it as much as possible.

This time, however, I was in a little bit of a hurry; the Circus tour was going to start in a week, in northern Vermont, and I was still almost 1,500 miles away in Tallahassee, Fla., having just stopped in to visit my brother at Florida State University.

I had been on the road for a couple of months at this point; I left Savannah, Ga. in May, and headed to Los Angeles to see a girl I was in love with...it didn’t work out, of course, and I turned around about half way there, in Texas (after spending a weekend in jail on a vagrancy charge, and a few days with a friend of a friend, in Tyler.), and headed east with no particular destination in mind. When, during a phone call to my mother, I was reminded that the Circus was getting ready to start again, I called the Circus Barn, in Greensboro, and let them know I would be there...

So, I started out on I-10 E, and made my way towards the dreaded I-95 N/S corridor; a total shit show, true, but I would probably make it back in 3 or 4 days.

I made it to Jacksonville by late that same night, and wasn’t tired, so I decided to keep going through the night and get some rest the next day, or maybe someone would pick me up and let me crash at their place, which happened more than you might think.

It was past midnight when an older model sedan slowed down as they passed and pulled over to the side of the road. I jogged up to the car, and a young kid, maybe 14 or 15, thin, with dark hair and that deep brown Florida tan, rolled down the passenger side window and asked if I needed a ride. I said I sure did, opened the back door, threw in my backpack, and slid onto the dark leather seats. The car smelled of cigarettes...

The driver turned on the overhead light and turned around. “How ya doin’? I’m Heyward, this here’s Justin. Where ya headed?” He looked to be about 50; overweight and balding, Marlboro red hanging from his lips.

I told them, briefly, where I was going and why. He said he couldn’t take me that far, but would a few exits up help? “It sure would.”, I said. “Well, let’s get going,” he said.

Justin, the young kid, turned around and started talking to me; asking me where I came from; wanting to hear about the circus; small talk...I noticed in the dim light of the back seat, that he was covered in cheap pin prick tattoos; crude nude women, some weird symbols, odd dates. Across his knuckles, on both hands, were names...

“So, can I suck your dick?”, he said...

“What was that?” I asked, thinking I must have misheard.

“Can I suck your dick? I love to suck dick.” Heyward, driving, hadn’t turned around.

“Uh...nah. Thanks, though. I’m good.”

“Y’oughta let him. Little fucker can suck a golf ball through a garden hose,” said a no longer silent Heyward, still not taking his eyes off the road.

This is another reason I avoid interstates...

“I won this cute little shit right here in a poker game at a truck stop, a few months ago, and I ain’t never had my dick sucked so good. Tight little ass, too, if that’s more what you’re into...”

The names tattooed on Justin’s hands were the names of his previous ‘owners’. He was 14, and had run away from a state home when he was twelve. He had been selling his ass from truck stop to truck stop ever since...with no shortage of buyers.

I was starting to get a little worried. I wasn’t scared; I was 21 and strong and more than capable of defending myself against a fat, middle aged pervert and his 14 year old street meat partner. I didn’t want to have to kill anyone, though...and it kinda looked like I might have to, if they decided to not let me out of the car.

“I’m good, guys. Really. If that’s the only reason y’all stopped, you might as well let me out. I’m not gonna change my mind.”

“Well, shit,” said Heyward, still not slowing down, “you’re a good looking guy. We could have some fun. I’ll spring for a room, buy us some booze and food...? If you don’t want to get fucked, we’ll let you do all the pitchin’, and we can just catch. You don’t have to suck nothin’. “

“Nah, my man. Not gonna happen.”

“Alright, then. I’m just gonna let you out right here. That Ok?”

“Sure is. Thanks.”

He pulled over and stopped. I grabbed my stuff, and got out.

They drove off, and I started walking. I just shook my head, and wondered about other people’s lives, and how we end up where we do.

About 30 minutes later, the same older model sedan drove slowly past, and pulled over on the shoulder in front of me...

At this point, I’m more than a little concerned about what might happen next; I immediately go on high alert. My heart is racing. Are these guys about to try to kidnap me? Is this shit about to get very, very real? The car starts backing up...the passenger side window rolls slowly down as they get closer. Justin sticks his head out the window...I set my backpack down on the ground beside me, and get ready to fight.

“Listen, we’ll give you $100 bucks, and Heyward can just watch me suck your dick. You can fuck me, and we’ll leave, and let you have the room to yourself. It don’t have to be too gay, and shit.”

“Like I said, I’m good. I really need you guys to leave me alone. Kinda creeping me out.”

He pulls his head back inside and says something to Heyward.

He sticks his head out again, “$200, and I just suck your dick. No fuckin’. “

“Not gonna happen.”

“Well, shit. That’s too bad. I really want to suck your dick.”

“Sorry, bud.”

“Ok. See you around.”

“Not likely,” I said.

They pull away, slowly. Their taillights fade into the night. I grab my pack, and continue my late night walk alongside the busy freeway.

I wonder if Justin will live to see 15...

“Chris! Come here. I want you to meet someone...” Desha called to me from across the room, snapping me out of my reverie; she had been bouncing around from group to group of people I didn’t know, hugging and laughing all the way. We were on the top floor of some hotel outside of Atlanta, where a local swingers group was having a party. The group had rented the whole floor and all the rooms were open to one another. Naked people were everywhere; a woman was giving head to five or six guys in the middle of this room while a crowd gathered around. Some guys were jerking off while another couple was fucking off to the side on one of the couches...This was my first time ever attending a party like this; Desha had assured me I would love it. Of course, as had become the norm lately, I was rolling my balls off, having taken 3-4 tabs of X shortly before we arrived...

“This is my friend, Andy. I haven’t seen her in forever,”

Andy was a tall blonde woman, maybe 35 years old. Fit, attractive, and very naked.

“Let’s find an empty bed, somewhere.”, said Desha.

As we went from room to room looking for an empty bed with our new found friend, everyone was looking at me, The New Guy, as if I were a piece of meat. Men and women, singles and couples...I wasn’t even a person. I was a just new cock in the mix; ripe for the fucking. It felt oddly...dirty...there were strobe lights and loud music and all manner of moans coming from every corner of every room. EVERYONE knew Desha. I could hear people talking about us, and who we were going to fuck, or, more accurately, who got to fuck us...

We found a bed.

“Sit down here,” said Andy, as she grabbed me by the hand and pulled me towards the bed.

I sat down as she turned and grabbed Desha by the back of the head and began kissing her. They began to make out feverishly; Andy stripping off Desha’s clothes; both exploring each other’s bodies. She laid Desha down on the bed, head next to my lap, and went down on her as though life itself depended on it.

The two of them traded orgasms for an indeterminate amount of time as I sat - so very high - next to them on the edge of the bed. Even though I was new to this scene, I knew that they controlled the pace of whatever would happen next, so I kept my hands to myself, and just watched...

“Take off your clothes,” Desha told me, between gasps, “I want you to fuck Andy. Remember, no kissing. I just want to watch you fuck her, like you fuck me.”

Desha laid down on her back and opened her legs, as Andy rolled over on her stomach and arched her back, presenting herself to me as she put her head between Desha’s legs and buried her face in her dripping pussy.

“Look at me, Chris. I want to see your face while you fuck my friend.”

A crowd had gathered around to watch. Some women sat on the side of the bed and began massaging Andy and Desha. Another woman put her head down by Andy’s ass and began licking my cock as I stroked in and out. The men had to stand off to the side, as they were not allowed to participate; only to watch. They masturbated as I fucked this woman I had met just 30 minutes before, until she screamed into my girlfriend’s pussy. Desha told me not to stop; just keep fucking until I was about to cum. THAT belonged to her, and her alone. I pulled out as I came, and Desha crawled around and took my cock into her mouth, swallowing every last drop. My head was spinning. The ecstasy was kicking my ass. I still hadn’t said a single word to anyone since we arrived at the party...

The other women slowly got up from the bed, and went over to their respective partners, wandering away to the next room and the next scene, leaving the three of us alone...

“That was so hot,” said Desha, with a smile, “Thanks, Andy. It’s been great catching up. I guess we’re going to leave now. See you next time.”

“Good to see you, too. Nice to meet you, Chris. Looks like everything we’ve heard about you was true.” She reached down and gave my cock a friendly squeeze as she kissed me on the cheek... “See you around,” she said.

“Not likely,” I thought to myself...

[bucks-little-hop]

it cannot wait, I'm yours.

Day 1 of @buddiefirstkissweek

Prompt:  Related to Pride

Read on AO3

Despite living there for several years, Buck had never actually attended L.A pride. He usually flew to New York City to celebrate with friends there. However, with T.K. being in Austin, they had agreed to go to each other’s Prides together. The only issue was T.K. couldn’t get off until the second day, and Buck didn’t exactly want to go alone. His first choice would have been Hen, but she got stuck working as well. He realized that he needed more friends than just his co-workers as he scrolled through his phone trying to figure out who to call. He could ask Maddie, but she would probably spend the whole time trying to find a cute guy for him to date. He loved the support, but sometimes he didn’t need to be reminded he was single when all his other friends had a significant other.

He thought about texting Michael, but they had talked last time he was over at the Grant-Nash household, and Michael was going with his new boyfriend. Buck was ecstatic that Michael finally found a boyfriend. It was about time. He deserved it. If Buck was his type, Buck for sure would have tried to date him. 

Wait, Josh was single and gay. He was probably going to pride, and likely wouldn’t want to go alone either. Perfect solution. He sent a text off and got a quick response before going to get changed. Normally Buck dressed pretty conservatively, but this was the one time a year he really let himself go all out. He put on his crop top that said ‘if you play for both teams you always win.’ It was probably his favourite shirt, he loved the slogan. He basically worked out for a living, and he was glad that crop tops highlighted that. He threw on his ripped jeans that were just on the right side of too tight, and had one rip that went a little too far up his thigh. He was lacing up his pride Dr. Martens when he heard a knock on the door.  

“So glad you could make it.” Buck pulled Josh into a hug. It was a bit of a surprise at first how well the two got along. They even went out on a date together before realizing they were better off friends. The teasing they would have gotten from Maddie would have been unbearable if it had actually worked out. 

“I’m just happy I have someone to go with now. I brought the face paints!” Josh immediately grabbed one of Buck’s kitchen chairs and pushed him down into it. Josh was already sporting a gay flag painted under his eye, and he clearly had plans to put on on Buck as well. “I know you care about your hair, but really I think we need some glitter in it. It’s the spray kind that comes out easy I swear.” 

Buck rolled his eyes but sat still while he got a bisexual pride flag painted under his right eye. “You can do the glitter, but I’m showering at your place. I’m not trying to deal with clogged pipes because of it.” 

“Fair deal. We better get going, or we won’t ever be able to get an Uber downtown.”

******

L.A. Pride was somehow exactly like NYC Pride, and completely different. All the elements of pride were there. The drag queens who were performing up a storm, the baby gays who it was clear this  was their first pride, and those who had been going to prides longer than Buck had been alive. There were definitely more west coast vibes to it. Either way, Buck was thrilled to be at Pride, and happy to have a friend along with him. 

The two wandered through the marketplace, stopping every now and then to buy a couple of items. The two spent a couple of minutes laughing when they found the LAFD calendar, except they were able to get any face photoshopped on all the firefighters. They got one with a photo of Chim sneezing on it for Maddie’s birthday. It was even better because it actually had Chim in it. There were some advantages to Buck not having won that year. Josh saw a lesbian couple from work, and dragged Buck over there to introduce him to them. Buck was known for both being Maddie’s younger brother, but also the firefighter whose name got mentioned more than it probably should have been. His dumbass heroics got him far more recognition than they should have been. 

Buck saw a familiar face in the crowd, and they made eye contact before they turned away.  He let Josh know he was going to talk to them. He knew Josh would be safe with his friends for the moment. 

“Now Athena, I know you’re not just going to ignore me like that.” Buck jokingly called out to her.

“I wish I could say I was ignoring you, but I owe Hen money unfortunately. You just had to get a boyfriend.” Athena sounded almost disappointed,

“What Josh? No we aren’t dating, we’re just here as friends. Actually, you’ve met him before I think. He works with Maddie.” Buck wasn’t offended about the fact she thought he and Josh were dating, he didn’t like the thought of the bet. “Any other important bets going on about my life?”

Athena had the decency to look a little ashamed. “Well there was a bet about whether or not you had a secret boyfriend. Hen said yes, I said no. Mainly because you would have told Maddie, who would have accidentally told Chim, who would have immediately texted Hen, who would have shown up at my house with a bottle of wine to gossip. We all know secrets don’t exist in the family.” 

Buck knew she had a point. Secrets didn’t exist, and because of that betting run rampant. Hell, he had won $50 on the bet of when Micheal was going to announce his new boyfriend. “How much do you have on it, because I’m willing to lie to split the winnings. Hen deserves some payback after how often she keeps winning.” Buck was never above a small lie. He could just say they broke up in a week because it wasn’t working out.

“$200. Go collect your fake boyfriend over there and we’ll go find the 118. They’ve got a tent set up to hand out water.” Athena nodded her head towards Josh. 

Buck didn’t think that they would actually be there. It wasn’t that he was ashamed of being bi, but he had never officially come out to the 118. Hen knew because they ran into each other at a gay bar, and Athena knew because she got called to pick them up when they were too drunk to drive. “Alright yeah, I can drop all my stuff off there too. They’re all going to be too scared to look through the bags.” Even though there was nothing bad in them, the fire fam was going to assume there was. 

Buck walked back to Josh and explained what was going on. Buck owed Josh an expensive bottle of wine for it, but he was totally down to mess with the 118. The wine was to placate him from any of the text Maddie would send him after Chim texted her. On the way over they all chatted. Buck agreed to bring May with him on the second day. Athena wanted her to go with someone who was more responsible, but also not afraid to throw a punch. May was like a little sister to him, and Buck was fully ready to square up for her.  Plus, T.K. and his new boyfriend would defend her too. Actually, based on what he had heard about Carlos, he would get along with Athena. Buck made a note to introduce the two. As they got closer to the tent, Buck put his arm around Josh’s waist. With Buck being such a tactile guy, it wasn’t the first time he had held Josh like this. He allowed himself to be more touchy feely with Josh because he knew the other was okay with it. 

“Hey guys, this is Josh. He’s an operator with Maddie. I’m sure you’ve heard his lovely voice on the phone a few times.” Buck spoke to the 118 with a grin on his face. He could feel the fact that all eyes were on him. Hen scowled at him and then Athena. She pulled out her wallet to pay up.

Buck leaned down to talk to Josh, and softened his voice to talk. “Why don’t you go talk to Chim about Maddie’s surprise stories. I’ll deal with all the questions.” There was zero reason for him to do that, other than to sell the idea. Buck had big plans for that $100. 

Josh walked over to Chim, and pulled him aside as the rest of the 118 descended on Buck. 

“Listen Buck, not that I’m not proud of you for this, but you really had to wear your best outfit the day I’m not with you?” There was no actual malice behind Hen’s voice. She had made teasing Buck into an art form. 

“Hen this is a go big or go home event, and I certainly wasn’t going to go home.” Buck gave her one of his patented golden retriever smiles, before he pulled a small enamel lesbian flag pin out of his  pocket and held it out to her. “I got you a present to make it up to you at least. Figured you could wear it while you work to show support.” 

Hen took the pin, seeming to accept the apology gift. She walked over to Athena, the two already starting to gossip.

Bobby cleared his throat. “So Buck, you know you could have told us before. We would have supported you.” He was clearly into his dad mode, trying to approach the situation delicately. 

“I mean you never came out as straight to the station. I’ve told you about people I’ve gone on dates with. If you assumed Jordan, Addison, and Kennedy were girls, that's on you.” Buck viewed Bobby as a father, but sometimes he was very much a straight cis man. They were working on changing his set views. But he supported them all and that was what mattered the most to them.  

“Buck, can we talk, over there. It cannot wait.” Eddie’s voice was tense, and Buck didn’t like how it had sounded. Buck nodded and followed him, not trusting any words that would come out of his mouth. Buck was fine with Hen, he figured he would be fine with Buck being bisexual. There was a chance Eddie was one of those people who just thought bisexuals were just greedy and needed to make their mind up. He hadn’t been prepared to lose Eddie as a friend, not over something like this. Having Chim and Bobby know made him feel like a weight was lifted off his chest, but Eddie’s reaction made it all come crashing back down. The two walked behind the ambulance, where they were out of view from the public. There was just a couple of photographers hanging out in their event tent. 

“You’re not actually dating Josh, are you?” Eddie crossed his arms, taking a defensive stance.

“Why does it matter to you? If you can’t accept me having a boyfriend then we are going to have bigger problems than who I’m dating.”

“You told me you were single at movie night last week.” Eddie sounded exasperated, and Buck was really confused as to why.

“Fine, Josh and I aren’t dating, but we tried at one point. We’re better friends, but that doesn’t mean I’m not still bi. I’ve dated plenty of guys since we’ve been friends, it just hasn’t worked out.” They were friends, Buck was going to be honest with Eddie. Well, mostly honest. If Eddie asked if Buck had a crush on him, Buck was going to deny it. He didn’t think Eddie would be the kind of straight guy who would get all weird about Buck’s crush, but then again he didn’t think Eddie was biphobic either. 

“Good, because I can’t see you with a boyfriend...” Eddie seemed to have calmed down, and a realization had swept over him. His face looked a lot softer, it was a look Buck had seen many times but was never really sure what it meant. Buck anger was going in the opposite direction. He took a step back.

Buck didn’t bother to let Eddie finish before he cut him off. “Listen, if you’ve got such a problem with me dating another guy, then you should transfer stations. I’m not going to hide a part of me because it’s not something you like.” His words were harsh, but he kept his voice down. He didn’t want any yelling to attract the others. Buck started to walk away when he felt Eddie grab his wrist and pull him back so they were face to face.

“Evan, You didn’t let me finish. I can’t see you with a boyfriend that isn’t me. If I had known you liked guys, I would have done this sooner.” Buck was shocked by the statement, but even more shocked by what came next. 

Eddie leaned up and kissed Buck. 

Buck did not in a million years see Eddie returning his feelings. Buck felt Eddie start to pull back, and he knew the older man was overthinking things the same way he was. Buck brought his hands up to cup Eddie’s cheeks, and pulled him back in. He could overthink this later, for now he was going to enjoy kissing Eddie. Finally it didn’t have to be something of his dreams anymore. He felt Eddie’s hands come to rest on his waist. Buck had every intention of deepening the kiss, but when he moved to get closer, he managed to slip. Thankfully, Eddie managed to catch him before he completely fell on his back. 

They had been pulled apart by the fall, but they rested their foreheads together. 

“We should talk about this…” Buck started to say.

“We’ll have plenty of time to talk later, I got months of kissing to make up for.” Eddie leaned down, kissing Buck with far more passion this time. He wasn’t worried about being rejected. 

Eventually Buck fully got back up to his feet, but not before a photographer had snapped a photo of the two.

******

Buck promised to drop Eddie off at the station the next morning, so he wouldn’t have to ensure the teasing alone. They didn’t have to walk far into the station before the teasing started.

Hanging from the balcony was a blown up photo of the two of them kissing. Buck had seen the photo posted all over last night. Out of context, it looked like Eddie had dipped Buck, not that Buck had just been clumsy first. He knew there were comparisons to the soldier celebrating V-J day, and the navy soldier getting his homecoming kiss. The photo was heralded as one of the defining photos of pride that year. Would Buck have liked their first kiss to be a little more private, sure, but it wouldn’t have been true to the way his life had gone so far. The teasing would be worth it, especially since he got Eddie out of the deal. 

“They’re all just jealous Eds, just remember. I’m yours.”

[shanie-the-toyaddict]

Shanie Figure Update 8/29/2020

Sizzling shit on a stick

So, on Ringside Collectibles, nearly the entirety of the second line of AEW figures is sold out before it even hit “in stock”. It sold out via pre-order and, because I was a greedy fuck who wanted to conserve my food stamp money, I had to use cash for groceries (buying the groceries was NOT my idea, btw, that was my mother’s) Anyway, spending all my cash on food, meant no money for figures, and that meant that I have likely lost my chance for both a Hangy and Mox figure, as well as a Ultimate Edition Cena figure. That last one is a damn near guarantee. The Hangy and Mox might show up as backorders, I don’t know.

But between those three, and several recently released Elites that are quickly selling out, I’m hurting. My soul ache. I really wanted that Hangman figure. And the Cena was an instant lemming the moment I saw it. I know, I know, there will likely be other Hangman figures. But that UE John Cena? It’s the only one. They ain’t making another for a long time and the figure is already going for hundreds on the ‘bay. And if I miss out on the New Day and Io Shirai? Well, I can try for them on ebay, but no promises. 

There’s just so much plastic that I crave right now. SO DAMN MUCH. As is stands, with Chadwick’s recent death, I’m coming to terms with possibly never getting a Marvel Legends MCU T’Challa figure (the prices on ebay started skyrocketing the moment after the news hit, with some figures already priced over 200 dollars). 

If I’d have had any funds this month past the first week, so much of this could have been avoided. And the figure money I *did* spend this month went to non WWE figures which, granted, was money well spent. I got 6 Doctor Who figures for under 150 bucks, which is a damn steal considering they all came from ENGLAND. (I cannot tell you how fast I clicked when I saw someone selling loose copies of the new Classic Who companions with only 8 dollars combined shipping!)  So, I guess, technically, I did scratch the itch this month. And my “Row of Who” is really damn snazzy looking. (I moved the Who figures off the shelf and onto my bannister. That gave me room to grow in both DW and Marvel Legends as previously, they’d both been sharing a shelf.) And those limited edition sets the new companions came in are being scalped to fuck and back already, so getting almost every figure I wanted from there?  You know what. We make decisions, and we live with them. Am I bitter? Hell Yeah. I wanted my Hangy fig. But it’s not the end of the world. IMHO, Missing out on Romana II or Benton and Yates would be a bigger sin. And who knows, maybe with my money next month, (I’m not spending cash on food), I can get a couple MORE DW figures on top of the WWE Figures I can grab. Seriously, the 12th doctor wants to know where the fuck his friends went. So sorry for the long post. Just needed to vent.  I really need sleep. Bed is calling. Maybe I should answer.

[hustlemeanokay]

Warning - this got a little long winded... but it’s something that I just... I get long winded about lol. Also - I’m not trying to rag on anyone in the UK who dreams of living here... though I don’t understand it. It’s just - you should be aware and I don’t see this said enough. Yes, it’s delivered in a very passionate way, because it’s shit that is frustrating for people who live here. And I know the UK is far from perfect but the things that y’all do have down, y’all have it down pat. 

Okay, I get that the US isn’t a completely horrible place to live, currently. Like, we don’t get jailed for saying Trump’s a complete and total fucking moron. See, I can say that and not have my door busted in and be hauled off to some hole in the ground as a political prisoner. 

But when I hear people who live in, like, the UK saying they want to move to America... I swear my left eye twitches just a little bit. Like, I get it - the grass is always greener and all that but... seriously? Are... are they serious when they say that? They... they’re aware of the problems... right? 

Not the social and political problems - those are everywhere. There’s racism and sexism everywhere, there’s corrupt politicians everywhere. That’s not what I’m talking about - yes those things need to be worked on but their virtually identical no matter where you are. 

I’m talking about things like... health care. Paid time off. Employment laws. The cost of college. The cost of retirement. Fuck, the cost of living. Those things. These systemic problems that are just... glazed over. That effect every single person in this fucked up country. Unless you’re of the super rich - every single one of these things are a problem for you. 

Health care. They’re trying to get the whole pre-existing condition thing rolling again. Where, and I’m not even kidding, Trump’s dumbass admin is trying to roll back the Affordable Care Act - which would once again put pre-existing conditions back into play... which pregnancy was considered a pre-existing condition. I wish I was making this up. That’s just a small window into how fucked the system was and could so very easily be again. By the way, the ACA didn’t happen until the mid-90′s. So my generation is the first that was able to actually get pregnancy fucking covered under insurance with no bitch-sessions. And, just for comparison - for the UK peoples out there, we paid over $4000 for the delivery of our son over ten years ago and we had extremely good insurance then that we paid over $800 a month for at the time. That was just his bill, not mine. Just for him. Also - for example... we have insurance, it’s not great insurance but it’s insurance. We pay about $100 a week for it through my husband’s company now. And, to date, this year... we’ve paid... out of pocket, not including the company’s one time benefit of $1500 on an HSA card which is nice but ultimately gone in a heartbeat, so, out of our pocket... not including premiums... we’ve paid almost $10,000 in medical expenses. Only $1000 of it is out of ordinary, for my husband’s procedure that he had to have. The rest has all been RX’s, doctor’s visits, and labs. So yea. There’s that. 

Paid time off. You’re fucking lucky if you get any of that here. That’s why companies tout it as being a benefit. “Oh, this company has good benefits” Good benefits = they actually offer insurance, doesn’t mean it’s good - and you get some semblance of paid time off. Companies here aren’t required to pay you anything extra for working on national holidays and they don’t have to give you any paid vacation or sick days, at all. They are only required to give you maternity leave of 6 weeks or paternity leave, if you request it but none of that is required to be paid either. There’s Family Leave, also not paid time off. And, they will and can do anything to get around paying time and a half for overtime. And, getting into the whole Employment laws thing - companies rely on people not knowing the laws so they can get away with shady ass shit. This happens everywhere, from the corner store and the fucking McDonald’s all the way up to corporate offices. 

College. HA! There are a million bright brilliant people in this country that don’t have a degree because they couldn’t afford to go to college. Or, their parents made just a smidge too much for them to qualify for financial aid and they didn’t want to be burred under a mountain of debt. We’re talking tens of thousands of dollars of debt, what a way to start your life out, huh? Four years at a University? You’re easily looking at $40,000 plus. Easy. Like, wouldn’t be hard to do at all and that’s not even the “best” University either. That’s just like... that one over there. Oh, and student loans? Yeah, interest is charged on those bitches too. Can’t pay them? Oh don’t worry, you can put them on hold for like 36 collective months or something, but they’ll still accrue interest the entire time. And that interest isn’t fixed either, it’s variable. So, good luck with that. 

Retirement? Fuck that. You better hope and pray that social security is still around. For some, even if you do what you’re supposed to and can actually squirrel some away for retirement - you can have some rich fat fuck in an office somewhere decide that he wants your money instead and bam, your retirement is just gone. And that’s assuming you can even afford to have any of your paycheck set aside. Because the cost to live in this country can be insane. True, there are rural places where the cost of living is cheaper but you also don’t get paid shit there either. 

And you still have medical bills when you’re old. What about Medicare, you might be wondering? Oh - you mean medical insurance for the elderly? That shit’s not free anymore. Sure, going to the doctor might be. But if you need an ambulance, you’re still fucked. If you need a prescription? You’d better hope you signed up during that small window for your prescription drug plan, which carries a monthly premium, so you can get your prescriptions. Because, old people never need those, right? And what about care? Well, Medicare will cover some care, like certain kinds of home health care. But not all. And if you need to go into a nursing facility for longer than 100 days? You’d better hope you got buku bucks because Medicare only pays for 100 days. Then, you’d better magically grow younger or some shit. Or, hope you’ve been paying for nursing home insurance. And, hope you’ve been updating that policy to reflect the insane rising costs of those places. Or, if you’re lucky, hope you’ve got family that will help take care of you. To get Medicaid though, you can’t have more than $2000 in assets, at all. That includes life insurance policies with cash values. You can keep your house and like one car but that’s it - and you can’t rent that house out or sell that car once you get Medicaid or you’re benefits can be interrupted because somehow, you can turn $500 into $2000 or something. And - this is the really shitty part, say you are in a nursing home and you do manage to get Medicaid. Medicare still won’t pay a dime to the facility but Medicaid will. But... they’ll also take your entire social security check minus $60 a month. So, if you do still have a house and a car to worry about that you cannot rent out, you’ll have to somehow make that $60 pay for any incidentals you might need (think soap... toothpaste... deodorant... your favorite candies... you get the idea) and for property taxes... insurances... all of that. So... good luck with that. 

Basically... the slogan here is that you can have the American dream if you work hard. But what they don’t tell you is that even if you do get it? You’re probably not going to be able to keep it. 

You can work your ass off your whole life, get that house, build a small business, make it. Not get filthy rich, but do okay. And then you get old and can’t work anymore but it’s okay - you’ve managed to save a little and you’ve got your social security so you’ll be okay. Until you get sick. Or your health starts to go downhill. Then, you’ll watch all that you worked so hard for have to be sold off just to pay your medical bills and go to pay for your care. If you’re lucky, you’ve got kids that can help. But someone, either you or them, is going to have to lose something in order to pay for your care. 

If you aren’t rich, you’ll still not be able to make it. There’s never a break.

For a country that’s all about freedom... you’ll never have a single moment where you’ll be free. 

And for those in the UK starting to go off about VAT. We still pay taxes. We pay sales tax, property taxes, extra taxes added to our gasoline, to the liquor, to the tobacco products, to fucking tampons! We pay licensing fees, renewal fees, tag fees, registration fees, vehicle sales taxes and title fees. We pay federal income taxes, many states pay state income taxes, fuck - some cities have city income taxes. We have toll roads and toll bridges. We still pay taxes on top of all of this. So give me fucking VAT any god damned day of the week if it means I can go to the fucking doctor and not drop $200 fucking bucks just for them to renew the same fucking prescription I’ve been on for years so I can go to the pharmacy and pay $30 for a generic RX for one month. 

[verus-veritas]

Stealing Berrie

I still can't believe how handsome I am. Being the man you have admired for the past 6 years has to be one of the most powerful aphrodisiacs in the world. I find myself still getting aroused just by glancing at myself in the mirror—I still can't believe the reflection (his reflection). It is all mine now. I feel like I can have whomever I want and that is not all based on looks. Berrie was a nasty man, probably always was. Growing up handsome, enlisting in the service, developing a beautifully sculpted body adorned with tattoos probably has that effect on a man. I think (no I KNOW) I will be a better Berrie than he ever was. But I guess I am ahead of myself, let me go back…

It all started 6 years ago when I move into my new home, that is where I first spotted Berrie. He was out walking his dog, wearing tight spandex shorts and a muscle tank. He looked good—really good, and he knew it. Who could blame him, at 6” and 200 pounds of muscle, his whole body showed just what years at the gym could do. His well-defined legs, beautifully shaped bubble butt, 32” waist, well ripped abs, wide shoulders and large biceps just oozed sex appeal. It wasn't just his hard work that made him what he was either. Nature had been very good to him (physically). With a beautiful complexion, bright smile, adorable button nose, and a full head of hair cut short sporting the military influence in his life—he was indeed a man many would want to be.

It wasn't until one day, through the usual neighborhood gossip, did I find out that Berrie had another side of him—one that wasn't quite so beautiful. I didn't believe it at first. Not Berrie “not the beautiful guy I had fantasized about all those nights lying in bed. In my mind, Berrie was not only beautiful outside, he was an all around good guy. The kind of guy you would want to be friends with. Then his neighbors began telling stories of how nasty he was to all of them, fighting with his girlfriend at all hours of the night, drinking too much, getting stoned every night. STONED! That perfect specimen of man smoked pot too? That got me thinking.

I had been feeling that my reflection in the mirror no longer matched how I felt—both physically and mentally. Being your typical all American guy next door—5—8”, 165 pounds, 32” waist, short brown hair and blue eyes—was boring. I was boring. I was bored with what nature had given me and bored with my “clean” lifestyle. I have always wanted to be a kind of punk. The kind that hung around late at night because he didn't have to work, didn't give a flying F*** what people thought of, adorned with tattoos depicting how carefree I really was, smoking pot all hours of the day. You know - just be different than what you really are. Berrie fit that description, but even better, he WAS beautiful. I then had an idea…

Berrie didn't deserve to be him. I DID. From all I had been reading about astral projection and peyote, I decided I could make it happen. I could trick him. Take his body, take his life, right out from beneath him. For those of you unfamiliar with peyote—it is mushroom used in ancient Indian rituals. It supposedly allows those who take it to leave their physical body to experience a higher plane—a spiritual plane. Astral projection also allows one to leave their physical body and travel great distances—when done right. I was going to combine the two and put my plan into action. I was going to steal Berrie.

The plan was set. I had followed Berrie for weeks now and found out were he purchased his pot from. It was almost too easy. I too began purchasing pot from the same guy, just to befriend him. I needed to make sure Berrie would use my very special pot, the one that would allow my plan to take shape. I had bought 2 bags last week, one for me, and one for my future. I needed to make sure Berrie would be vulnerable and confused, he had to be susceptible to the changes that would occur - and soon. I baked the peyote for hours breaking it down into a syrupy type substance. I added a load of my DNA, the ones that I saved while pleasing myself thinking about him last night. Somehow it just seemed appropriate. Once cooled, the liquid was poured onto and absorbed by the pot, I add my DNA just to make sure his soul would accept the new vessel he would soon occupy. Once dry I headed out to the pot dealer a few hours before I know he would be making his run. I convinced our friend, by giving him $50 bucks to sell Berrie the bag I was now holding. That it was pure profit to him. He accepted after I told him Berrie would never come back mad. Actually I promised him Berrie would give him another $50 next week, a promise I know I could keep and would gladly do.

I waited until 11:00 p.m. as I light a joint. I specifically waited until the time I had heard he usually gets stoned. He had told a neighbor he wanted to sleep with (a cute little blond) that he liked to get stoned before bed and he asked her to join him. Little did he know he was going to get company tonight. As I took a hit and held the smoke in, I began to concentrate. After about the 7 or 8 hits I was beginning to feel the effects. I was totally relaxed and focused on the task at hand. It was time…

I took off all my clothes and laid quietly down on the bed. The only light was from a flickering candle that I lit to make sure Berrie would find his way to his new home. As I concentrated, I began to feel as thought I was dropping in and out of consciousness. My heart was beating so fast anyone entering the room could of heard it instantly. The room was black—I began moving around but could not see. In the confusion, I kept moving forward trying to get back to reality. I sensed something was wrong, but not quite sure what. Then, in a sudden flash, it was clear. I was hovering over a bed with someone in it. As I concentrated on the image he became clear. There was Berrie, lying nude and stoned on his bed. A magnificent sight to behold. Something only cute little blondes, and the occasional brunette was able to see. I was so close now, I knew I had to do it. I concentrated with all my mind to lower my soul down—down—down into the vessel below. As I slowly descended, I tried to reposition myself so that I descended into his form the way he was lying, as I figured that was the path of least resistance. As my soul began to merge into his flesh I felt tight. There was not room enough for the both of us. Immediately I began to push my mind into his, pushing the soul within the vessel out. It was working as I began to merge, I could feel Berries presence. He was confused and did not know what was happening around him. The DNA in the pot, my DNA, made his body susceptible. Was he the true occupant, or was it the new presence forcing its way in? Berrie tried to wake up, but I knew I was winning the battle. The rush of sound going through me was incredible. His body was accepting me, pulling me into it, making the body complete, fusing my soul into it to give it life. With one last PUSH I could sense Berrie no more. He was wondering off to where the DNA he inhaled called him. He was wondering back to Dan, yes, his new name in his new body. With all of my might I open my eyes and as I did the rush of sound instantaneously stopped. It was over. The soul is now fused to its new home.

I struggle to get up. I have to see what is being reflected back at me in the mirror. The new muscle man that I now possess will take some time getting used to, but it is a challenge I have longed for all my life. As I move closer to the mirror, Berries heart, my heart beats ever so fast. As I glance into the mirror all I see is BERRIE, the man I always knew I wanted to be. He looks at me with eyes that have expressed anger to so many. Eyes that will now express a sense of completion, a sense of joy and a sense of compassion for others.

It has been a week, and I still can't believe how handsome I am. Being the man you have admired for the past 6 years has to be one of the most powerful aphrodisiacs in the world. I still find myself getting aroused just by glancing at myself in the mirror—I can't believe the reflection (his reflection) is all MINE now. I feel like I can have whomever I want and that is not all based on looks. Berrie WAS a nasty man, probably always was. Growing up handsome, enlisting in the service, developing a beautifully sculpted body adorned with tattoos probably has that effect on a man. I think (NO I DO KNOW NOW) I am a better Berrie than he ever was.

I am off the make good on Dan's word. He told my dealer I would give him $50 bucks this week, something I am glad to do. Oh, by the way, Dan has really gone off the deep end. He keeps coming by his house (my house now) and screaming things like: 

“Give me back my life you Fucking BASTARD!” “What the fuck have you done to me?” “I don't know how you did this, PLEASE stop it! I want my body back, I want MY LIFE BACK!”

Well, I hated to call the police and have him arrested, but he really left me no other choice. I already filed a restraining order against him, and he knew it. After the other night, right after he found out I was selling his home and moving to Miami to strip for a while—he flipped again. He came by my house screaming: “There ain't NO WAY I am stripping for no guys” “I’ll kill you before you do this to me!” 

The gossip around the neighbourhood now is:

“I don't know what has gotten into Dan lately. He just doesn't seem like himself anymore”.

Source: “Stealing berrie” by Unknown on Metabods