#is my mind in the gutter or is there something wrong with how people have been naming things?!?!

[randomfandomss]

Please y'all Google what Penetration Testing is...

[justanamesstuff]

I want to be with you everywhere - Matty Healy x f!reader

A/N: I'm not sure if I'm happy with this...let me know what you think!! <3 (takes place before part 1 and 2)

Warnings: fluff, the three words, car sex, hard language, 18+ MINORS DNI!!!!!!

Word count: 3.2 k

Blog Masterlist

Supermarket 

“Matty?” Y/n startled him out of his daydreaming. “My eyes are up here…” she teased him, smiling when his eyes opened a millimetre more due to embarrassment. 

They were trying to empty the shopping trolley with all the food and drinks they brought minutes ago for the barbecue Adam and Carly were going to host in their house. Y/n tried not to think about it because her anxiety would rise to a level she might not be able to keep under control. She already meet Matty’s friends, family, and a lot of people involved in his life during the past few months, even though Y/n still couldn’t get used to be around his friends. She was very aware of how much their opinions weighted on Matty. 

Y/n shook her head, returning to the present moment. Matty was holding a piece of cheese and his mouth was hanging open a bit. His lips and mouth calling for her. He always looked handsome, although that day he was breathtaking. 

“I-” he tried speaking, but his voice got stucked on his throat. “I’m sorry, I just-” the singer left the item inside the booth, rubbing his hands nervously. 

“Matty, it’s alright. I was messing with you.”

“No, I know. I- I wasn't ogling you like a moron, okay?” he tried to justify himself.

Y/n rounded the cart between their bodies, “Baby, I wouldn’t mind if you looked at my cleavage.” she brushed the curls falling on his pretty face, staring at his eyes with care.

“I was looking at your…your body.” he cleared his throat, making her chuckled. She hadn't seen him this nervous in all the months they have dated. Worried popped into her mind. 

“What’s wrong, Matty?” Y/n frowned a little, Matty hated it. 

“I’m trying to say something, but I don’t want to scare you…” Matty let his hands rest on her hips, looking down at his hands create circles on the fabric of Y/n’s dress. 

Y/n kept her silence, waiting for him to be able to express his thoughts. She touched his features, trying to transmit him some calmness. The only thing it would scare her would be him breaking up with her. Her heart skipped a bit thinking about that possibility.

“I was looking, admiring you…maybe a bit like a twat, but I didn’t have my head in the gutter. Well, not fully.” Matty laughed apprehensive. He took a big breath, trying to gather his thoughts. “Y/n…” Matty said. “I can’t believe I’m such a lucky bastard, you…you being this incredible person, so smart, so caring, so damn beautiful.” he shook her body slightly. “You being incredible and wanting to date me…me?” Matty touched his chest with his point finger. 

“I do…so much.” she interrupted his monologue.

“Can’t believe I’m going to say this in the middle of a supermarket car park…” Matty closed his eyes for a second, talking more to himself. “I love you, Y/n. So, so much…everything about you.” Matty spoke, staring into her soul.

Y/n felt a tingling sensation travel all around her body. “You do?” she asked, low.

Matty nodded. “Yes.” he replied. “You don’t have to say it back! I felt the need to say it, because I can’t hi-” 

The frontman couldn’t finish his sentence because Y/n let her lips fell on his. They paused for a little, just taking in the points of contact between their bodies. Matty grew anxious quickly, so he let his hands travel to her back, rubbing his hands up and down. Y/n’s reaction was to smile, which broke the kiss a little.

“I love you so much, Matthew.”

“Why ‘Matthew’?” he complained. “Sounds like I’m in trouble…” he pouted, not letting her go far from him.

Y/n lift her hands to rest around his shoulders. “You’re in serious trouble, mister. I’m not letting you go so…”

“Won’t complain, really.” 

“I love you, Matty.” the words tasting different when she direct them to the man in front of her, the man of her dreams. 

“Agh, I’ll never get used to this…ever.” Matty let his head hid on the crock of her neck, mumbling incoherences. His stubble and breath tickling her, adding to her giddiness after all the confessions.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

At Hann and Carly’s house

“Matty!” George screamed in his right ear.

He detached his sight from Y/n profile, who was deep into conversation with Polly about hair products –saying words Matty never heard of. Matty let his eyes fell on his best mate’s smugly face. 

“What?” he spat, bringing his left hand to rest on Y/n’s thigh. 

“Was talking to you.” G crossed his arms on his chest. Matty rolled his eyes at him. “She won’t disappear if you stop looking at her. Y’know that, right?”

“Fuck off.”

“What are you two bickering about now?” Y/n let her hand rest on top of Matty’s. 

“‘bout this one smitten with you.” G said before taking a sip of his drink. “Simp.” he mumbled.

Matty returned to look at Y/n, “Ignore him.” 

“Why? I like what he was saying…” she smiled at him, pushing her body closer to Matty’s.

The frontman let his left arm round her, bringing his girlfriend even closer than before. He left a chaste kiss on her lips, trying not to indulge too much making the rest uncomfortable although at the same time being incapable of not touching and kissing his girl.

Y/n pushed her chest on his, trapping her hands between their bodies. She was wishing to bring him back to her flat or hear his offer to go to his, even though that would be rude. 

The singer backed a little, “We’re leaving.”

“What? Why?” she searched inside his eyes.

“Y/n.” he warned her.

“Baby, we can’t leave.” Y/n whispered.

“Oh, yes, we can.”

“Matty.”

“Please, Y/n. I need you.” his hand creeped to touch her knee, pleading her. 

“Hey! You two!” Ross broke the tension growing between them. “Find a room.” he joked around, letting Matty use it for his own advantage. 

“Actually, we’re leaving.” he stood up from his chair.

Matty took Y/n’s hands, pushing her slightly to copy his own actions. 

The boys whistled and Charli screamed, “Yes, girl!” 

Matty didn’t stop to say goodbye to the people around the table, he couldn’t care less. The singer was sure they wouldn’t mind and even found it funny. He would put up with the jokes later. 

Y/n let him lead her towards the car, feeling deeply embarrassed by his actions and a bit turned on. 

She turned to her right side, staring at him, “You’re insane, y’know that? I’ve bearly know them…what would they-”

Matty quickly interrupted her rambling, “They’re happy for me…for you. That’s all, baby.” Y/n seated back, trying to calm herself. “C’mon, my love.” The sweet name warmed her inside, but she tried to ignore the feeling. Matty let his hand touch the hem of her dress, then his feathery touch trailed towards the inside of her tight thighs. “I love you.” Matty approached his lips to press kisses on her neck. He disarmed her and Y/n couldn’t help to open her legs wider. “Say it.” 

“What?” she stared back into his brown eyes, full of lust.

“Y/n.” he wasn’t having it.  “Say it.”

The singer didn’t wait for her reply, to move his hand closer to her core. She was hyperaware of his hands touching her skin.

“I love…” Y/n stopped talking when his fingers pushed the fabric on her clit without moving far. The pressure turning her into putty.  

Matty backed his fingers centimetres away,  “You love who?”

“Matty!” she protested, sensing the lack of his digits and her clit pulse. 

“Who, Y/n?”

“I love you. Please, don’t stop.”

“Good girl.” 

Even though he didn’t continue. Matty backed all the way, going to turn the car on, and started driving away from his bandmate’s house. 

Y/n stared at him without believing his actions. One minute he was all over her, and the second later appeared composed like nothing happened. Y/n whined loud. 

“What?” she protested.

“What?” Matty mimicked her voice, staring at the road. 

“I hate you.”

“You don’t.” Matty gripped the steering wheel with both of him hands. 

“Drive me home.” she tried to command, knowing deeply inside he wouldn’t let her go that easily. 

She wasn’t wrong. 

“Baby.”

Y/n bit her lower lip, trying to stay in silence.

“Okay, we’re going to your house then.” Maty sentenced, implying he was part of the plan.

“No, I am going…alone.”

“Absolutely no.” he shook his head, still not looking at her. “Don’t a brat. You just need to wait a few more minutes, and you’ll have everything you want, my love.” Matty said in a rather softly tone. 

“I want you.” she whined, touching the middle of his leg.  

Matty's side glanced at her. “Do as I tell you.” the singer took her hand, lifting it up until it was secured on her own lap.

Y/n pretend to obey the order. For a few minutes, the song blasting on the radio occupied the silence between them. Matty relaxed while driving, oblivious to his girlfriend’s thoughts.

Without hesitation, she felt brave enough to shuffle in her seat, taking her underwear down her legs and finally off. The sudden movement, beside him, made Matty looked between the road and her. 

“What are you doin’?” he asked, feeling a rush of heat taking over his neck and cheeks. 

Y/n ignored him, leaving the piece of cloth between them around the gear lever. She didn’t spare him a glance, driving Matty insane. 

She lifted her dress until it rested on her stomach, showing all of her lower half in all its glory. Y/n touched her chest slightly, teasing herself a little. The expectation growing meanwhile, her hands roamed lower. Matty saw her touched the lower part of her stomach and her body shake due to the cool air hitting her perfectly.  

His girlfriend moaned, throwing her head back, looking for support that finally the seat gave her. Y/n ignored her dripping core, choosing to touch her knees, widening the space between them.

“Y/n..” Matty tried to stop her, but his tone wasn’t exactly harsh or believable. 

“Mhm?” she asked, her eyelids heavy.

She chuckled when he didn’t answer, stopping the car under the traffic light, waiting for the greenlight. Y/n traced the interior of her legs, feeling she was more than ready to welcome him. Her digits found the knob of nerves, circling slowly even when her fingers were eager to go faster. The sensations taking over her, controlling her hips. Y/n griped the side of the car sit with her free hand, helping with the friction. 

Matty pressed the gas pedal when he could. Since her flat wasn’t really far from Hann’s house, they reached their destination rapidly. Matty stopped the car in a dark part of her block. Turning to look at Y/n, who wasn’t paying attention to her surroundings. All of her attention were in the knot on her stomach.

“Matty” she moaned, asking for him to touch her. 

“Oh, no…you get yourself into this. Now you’re going to finish it.” Matty palmed himself through his trousers, staring at the sweet scene in front of his eyes.

“Please.”

Even though Matty couldn’t help to direct her from afar, “Stop teasing yourself.” he command. “Test if you’re ready for one finger, baby.” His left hand coming to rest on top of her seat car. 

“I’m so wet, baby.” Matty groaned when the information reached his ears, his eyes travelling down to the part of her body dripping on his car seat. He didn’t care if she ruined it. 

He nodded, unbuttoning his trousers, making a lot of noise with his belt, “You look so good like this, my love.” Matty encourage her. Y/n opened her eyes, looking at him push his trousers down, but keep his boxers. 

“Matty-”

“Keep going.” he said. “Ready for another?” Matty let his hand touch hers, taking her finger out of her pussy and bringing it to his mouth. He moaned around her fingers. Y/n didn’t dare to look at other part than his face, in a deep trance with his beauty and him hollowing his cheeks while tasting her.

“Yes, yes.”

Matty selected her middle and ring finger, pushing the others down, and without breaking eye contact he brought them closer to her core. Her sight tried to follow their intertwined hands, but her boyfriend wasn’t happy,  “Look at me, Y/n.” he ordered and she obeyed. His eyes tingled, knowing how receptive she was, how she let him have all the power over her. Y/n trusted him, Matty’s dominant side loved that.

Matty and Y/n stared at each others, while she felt the pressure of her fingers on her entrance. She gasped when he impulsed her fingers to get inside slowly. Y/n closed her eyes a bit because everything was getting too much, too intense. “Look at me, I said.” his other hand travel to the back of her head, holding her nape. “That’s it, baby girl.” Matty tilted his chin up, proud of himself.

Y/n’s boyfriend knew her body like the back of his hand. Matty made her fingers brushed the rough patch, making her lips lift, and an explosive sensation crawled from her small back all the way down to explode all around her. Matty kept guiding her hand, helping Y/n ride her high until she collapsed on her seat once more. 

“Open.” the frontman presented her own hand in front of her mouth. The skin of her fingers wrinkled by all the wetness created a rare sensation against her tongue. Y/n licked his fingers, although she pushed her hand out of her hand, gasping for some air. “Are you okay?” he checked, afraid it could be too much for her. Matty stroked her hair, soothing Y/n.

“More than that.” she gifted him a drunken smile. 

“Okay, let’s go upstairs.” Matty went to push his trousers back up, even though she stopped him.

Y/n quickly launched herself closer, placing her hand on top of his. “No.”

“No?” he crooked his eyebrow.

“I can’t wait any more.”

Before Matty could even ask about it, Y/n moved to straddle him. 

“Y/n, someone might see.” Matty looked around the empty street, knowing probably most of the neighbours were sleeping or out at the same time, he feared for their privacy. 

“I know.”

Matty laughed, “Naughty girl.” his hands squeezing her hips. 

Y/n’s boyfriend admired how she opened her dress, showing she wasn’t wearing a bra, hence why Matty could scan her naked body fully in front of his eyes. He was a lucky bastard indeed.

“Fuck.”

They didn’t wait a single more second, Matty pushed her still wet core to connect with his under the thin material of his boxers. Y/n was still dripping and staining his boxers, making Matty moaned with the sensation. So close and so far.

Her hips started moving back and forward rhythmically, trying to find the perfect one for both of them. Matty didn’t move his hands, slightly guiding his girlfriend.

His mouth swiftly found the expanse of her breast, biting on the under side of her left one. Y/n replied, whining uncontrollably, moving faster and throwing her head back. Once more, she was getting closer and closer to the edge, although this time she wanted him buried inside her. 

“Matty.” 

He spoke back, with his eyes admiring her nipples move and his hands holding her tits together, “Yes, baby?”

“I need you, now.”

Matty smirked, changing the direction of his eyes. Without adding more words, he detached his hands from her body, leaning to reach the car glove box behind Y/n. He groped a hand inside, searching for a condom. 

Y/n took advantage of his distraction, pushing his boxers under his balls. His cock was dripping with pre-cum and her mouth craved to taste him. She swiped it with her finger, gathering enough to taste it. Matty shook his head, while ripping the plastic. 

“Be glad we’re not inside because I’d be punishing you for that.” he said, pushing the rubber down his shaft. 

“I hope you do.” Y/n knew she was playing with fire.

“Y/n.” her name on his lips was the perfect anthem for her ears. “Ready?” he brought her body closer again, stopping when she was just above his tip.

“So ready.” she moaned out. 

Matty brushed the tip of his cock, teasing between her entrance and clit. Y/n let him without protesting, knowing she was close to get what she wanted for so long. Finally, he trusted inside her, looking directly into her eyes. Y/n allowed her body to fell forward, their foreheads connecting, meanwhile her hands took his neck between her hands.

“How come you’re always so tight, baby?” Matty’s voice came strangled, putting all his force to not come just yet. “Can I move?”

“Yes, move- please, move.” 

Matty nodded silently, grabbing her hips, pushing Y/n’s body up and continuity down. His mouth travelled from her lips, after leaving a sweet kiss, towards her beck and collarbones. He licked and bite every part of her skin, wanting to mark her as his. Although the best for him was meeting her nipples again. Nothing compared to her beautiful tits jumping by trusts. Nothing compared to Y/n’s beautiful soul and body. 

“Matty-”

“‘doing so well, baby.” he praised her. “Always so good for me.”

“Faster, please.”

“Already coming, baby?” he leaned backwards, replacing his mouth with his palms.

“Mhm.”

Y/n pulsed around him, so his voice sounded low and raspy,“Who makes you come this fast?” the question going directly to her centre. 

“You, Matty…is always you.”

Matty noticed she was indeed very close to her release. He brought his right thumb to circle on top of her clit, while his hands clenched to her hips like if his life depended on it. Y/n let herself go, making her movements quicker than before, pushing Matty to the edge. 

The singer pushed his pelvis up to meet her warmth, meanwhile Y/n’s body arching in pleasure offered him his tits again. Matty didn’t wait a second. He reached his peak bruising the soft skin of her chest. Y/n collapsed on top of Matty, feeling how his arms held her.

Accelerated breaths filled the void inside the car.

“Are you okay?” Matty brushed her back, sneaking his hands under the fabric of her dress, which shielded them from the outside world. He didn’t want to pull out just yet.

“Yes.”

“Can you walk?” he inquired. 

Y/n giggled on his neck, filling his stomach with something closer to complete happiness. “Don’t be so full of yourself, Healy.” 

He joined her, laughing of his own question. Matty left a few kisses on the side of her head.

“Let’s go…I’m not done with you.” 

Y/n pushed her body back, feeling ready to continue the night with him inside her bed. 

[chevelleneech]

Hi. What are your thoughts on all rameyon talk??

I’m genuinely curious why some of y’all send messages with multiple punctuation marks? Is there a different meaning behind them these days? I’m “old” so maybe there isn’t as much urgency implied anymore. Idk.

Anyway, my take on their use of ramyeon this time, is somewhere in the middle. I initially thought they were just talking about food, but upon watching the clip back later I heard JK sing “3D” the way he said Jimin sings it, and then Jimin sang it back to him. Before Jungkook sang it though, he immediately hit Jimin on the back with his towel.

So… contrary to what seems to be the common assumption about Jimin being flirty this time, I actually think he really was talking about food. It seems like JK’s mind was the one to instantly jump to sexy times, and him hitting Jimin was what triggered JM realizing what he said was understood as an innuendo.

Obviously Jimin knows the slang reference, but I think it was one of those moments where it simply wasn’t on his mind. He was hungry and wanted to eat, but JK’s mind went to the gutter, but I don’t think either of them were really asking for sex. I think they were just playing with the innuendo for a second, but ultimately were talking about whether or not they should eat.

ITS2, however, I think was likely a genuine example of them being intentionally suggestive. The way they laughed back then seemed way too on the nose.

As for my overall thoughts of them making this joke… 1) they’re adults. Grown people make sex jokes literally all the time. I know some fans don’t like to view the members as “immature”, but it just kind of is a thing. Sex talk is funny, even to people in their late twenties near thirties and older.

2) If there really is something going on between them, sex jokes are a natural part of being with someone. Particularly if the two of you are sexually active.

For example, I would bet money that had the pool not had a glass insert, we would not have seen the beginning of their antics in it. Based solely on the look on his face, and the look Jungkook had when he glanced at the cameras and told Jimin the wall was see through, Jimin planned to get handsy. Not handsy, but much more in JK’s space. Hands on his chest or something, not to speculate too far.

I mean, objectively Jimin got in the water and moved toward JK pretty quickly, and the look on Jungkook’s face was totally, “Oh shit, wait a second.” To be honest, the more I think about it, the more that moment in the pool was one of the more damning things they’ve done.

We know they put their mouths on each other. For a fact, we know that. JK did it in front of an audience, but I truly don’t think he realized how visible him sucking Jimin’s ear was. Then Jimin, unprovoked, admitted to biting on Jungkook’s neck in private. So my assumption is that had the pool wall been solid, and JM and JK actually started embracing or overtly flirting, the crew would have just turned the cameras off and turned their backs or walked away, because again, they get paid to see and hear nothing.

And I don’t want to turn this into some deep conspiracy thing or anything, but camera crews and managers and assistants and makeup teams and so on are the backbone of all entertainment industries, and they know everything. They’re just paid and are contractually obligated to pretend like all of it is fallacy. Aside from rolling on abusers and awful people, these people aren’t likely to ever spill any sort of truths. Not until their NDA expires, and even then, how often do we hear from them?

Don’t get me wrong, I know plenty spill the beans for a quick buck, but in comparison to how many exist? It’s not even a quarter. Especially when it comes to queer relationships and closeted celebrities. No one is trying to deal with the public shaming that comes with outing someone, unless they themselves are a horrible person.

So yeah. I got off track, lol, but I do think there was a smidge of flirtatiousness going on this time, but it wasn’t as serious as it was during ITS2. Nor do I think it was more risqué than the flirting Jimin planned to do in the pool, before he was interrupted by the reality of the glass wall.

[lvrboy-inc]

I Lost My Mind in the Sakura Flowers ꫂ ၴႅ

“Lying from You” - Linkin Park

꒰: Précis | A first person POV, dipping into the mind of a melancholic young man who is just a bit..off. Is he really above all of the chaos that is his life? Or is it all just another façade in which he’s also fooled himself this time..

꒰: Disclaimer(s) | This act contains strong language, triggering topics [Home life issues, homophobia + manipulation] Tread carefully~!!

꒰: Word Count ; 5.5k

꒰: Sakura Flowers—All Acts ; Here

Act 1

The day that I realized I wasn’t like everyone else, wasn’t the kind you’d expect.

It wasn’t gloomy. It wasn’t overcast, raining, or windy beyond comparison. It was the exact opposite.

Birds were chirping. The sun beamed on every face that it found. Even the unpleasant-smelling garbage that gathered and swirled in the gutters smiled when people stepped on it.

But I was there. So things wouldn’t stay that way.

Hello. My name’s Azura Makoto. And well, I’m insane.

When most people do bad things, they feel remorse. Guilt. Sympathy. Sadness even. But when I set fire to a pile of leaves, gathered in my backyard, at the young age of 6, I felt no remorse for the birds that were resting atop of it.

They fluttered and flapped their wings that soon became engulfed in flames. Their chirps got weaker and weaker until they finally ceased altogether.

It made me smile.

As a child, I should have run. I should have cried, and ran to my parents. But I didn’t.

I sat, and smiled, not caring about who or what I might’ve disturbed.

My parents were awakened by the smell of smoke. And that’s the moment that they realized that there was something wrong with me. Because as soon as they got there, I uttered the words, “Isn’t it pretty?”.

Yes, exactly like that cliche sociopathic child you’d see in a horror movie.

3 years after that incident, I was sent to a therapist for terrorizing one of my classmates with what children at my age would call, ‘adult scissors’.

And of course, the therapist was useless. If anything, he fueled my flames with gasoline.

“You’re just lost,” Over and over.

”You’re young and misguided,” He’d tell me these things all had a reason.

”It’s all a phase, you’ll get better.” But I knew…

There was no cure for what illness I had.

But, for a time, I entertained him. I told him what he wanted to hear. I showed signs that I was getting better. I showed signs of sanity for the time that I was there.

Oh, how easy it was to fool him.

Keeping up this act, this persona of the perfect little boy, I was able to escape that hellscape.

And just for good measures, I spent a year doing good things. Excelling in my studies, helping others, actually making friends. All things I had absolutely no interest in. And all so that my parents might’ve regained hope in me. Turns out it worked. Perfectly.

By the time that my parents started to look away from my issues, by the time they thought that I was on the right path for myself, I was 12.

I had a small circle of friends, who let me lie to them. It felt amazing. To be in control of my own life. To be in control of the people in my life. They listened to me. Did what I asked. Like Pavlov dogs, they were at my beck and call.

But then he came along.

Marko.

A conniving little bastard he was.

Junior year of high school I think it might’ve been. He appeared out of nowhere.

My track record was keeping me safe from prying eyes. No one was interested in tarnishing my reputation or dragging me down (none that I knew of at the time). At least, that was until he came along.

Thinking back, I should’ve known that he was out to get me. The first words he ever spoke to me were, “Your smile is so fake.” Granted, I wasn’t paying attention to him at the time. But I should have.

As student body president, it was my duty to greet new students and make them feel ‘at home’ in our establishment. He just happened to be there at the time. At the end of the entrance ceremony, I had to pass out flyers along with two other members of the student council. And lucky me, I had the pleasure of handing Marko his.

Before I could get the chance to say my line, “Welcome, please come to me if you have any problems finding your way around. I’m here to help,” Marko said his first.

“Your smile is so fake, you know that?” back then I brushed it off as if he was talking to someone else. Or if he was just joking around.

But in our second semester, he approached me and once again said something along the lines of, “Why do you fake it? Do you ever get tired of pretending you are what you’re not?”

That’s when the rumors started.

Up until then, I believed I was above teenage drama. Because I was. Or at least, I thought I was.

It was a classic, “What’re you guys talking about?” resulting in glares and disgusted looks.

The only person who came to tell me the truth was Allison. She was an angel, truly. A disposable one of course, but she was useful for the time that she was.

I can remember the exact moment she asked me, “Have you heard the rumors?”

Of course, I hadn’t. No one tells someone a rumor that they’re the center of.

“No, I haven’t. Mind telling me?”

She sang like a canary. I almost couldn’t believe what she told me.

“Well, people are talking about how you’re insane. Like...how you went to therapy for cutting a kid’s finger off in primary!” Okay, now that was an exaggeration. “And…” she then looked around like a suspicious party and leaned in saying, “how you like guys.”

That was the part that got to me.

Now, insanity I was fine with. Everyone has a little insanity hidden in them. Of course not so far that they’d go to do something physical to someone but enough that they’d say something really sick and shallow.

But being gay? That was going to be the end of me.

Don’t get me wrong, I have nothing against gay people. Not at all. But, from what I’ve seen, the people with whom I shared a learning space, were not a big fan of them. And if the rumors had already spread as much as I thought they had, I was majorly screwed.

I kept my composure and walked the halls with the same proud stride that I always had.

There were whispers when I walked by, and some back turns. The worst that happened was some assholes cat-calling me. That pissed me off.

Now, I’m not one to get on my knees and beg someone to stop something, but this prick was raking my name through the dirt. And so, I did what any hormonal, impulsive teenager would do; I took the petty route.

Unlike Marko, I worked behind the scenes with my scheming. The way he ,exposed’ me was so crude and had no aesthetic to it. No planning, nothing. Intricacy was certainly not in his vocabulary.

Firstly, I had to tie up all of my loose ends. The finger-cutting and being attracted to guys wasn’t that flattering to have in my hand of cards.

It was easy to get rid of the finger-cutting rumor. Mainly because it didn’t happen, so it was easy to deny. If someone brought it up, I would simply brush it off and say, “It’s a lie. If I were to cut any body part off of someone, then it wouldn’t be a measly finger.” That definitely raised some eyebrows with the way I phrased it, but it died down later on.

Then there was the rumor about being gay.

It was worse than I thought it was. I solved my finger-cutting problem, all the while oblivious to the fact that the gay rumors had begun to spiral out of control.

Before I knew it, underclassmen and upperclassmen alike were calling me slurs, making disgusting jokes and comments, and don’t forget the physical torment.

Sure, I could deal with my peers looking down on me but when the rumors finally got to the school board and my parents, that’s when I realized this had gotten much farther than I originally planned for it to go.

My parents sat me down after getting home from school one evening. That day wasn’t my proudest. I had gotten into some trouble you could say with some upperclassmen. Long story short, I don’t have much physical prowess and my face wasn’t in the best condition on the way home.

It wasn’t anything serious. A bloody nose, swollen lip, and a few scrapes and scratches here and there. I wasn’t phased by it but my mother sure was.

“My poor, Azura! Oh my, what did they do to you? Are you okay?” she was all over me. Touching my face, looking for any more wounds.

“Yes, mom. I’m fine. I just got into trouble with some friends,” I said, swatting her hands away.

After I managed to get away from my mother, my father called me into the living room, where he was sitting in his velvet blue chair that was positioned in front of the coffee table. It was where we would have our ‘family meetings’ you could call them.

He told me to take a seat, which I did. My mother sat in the chair next to his.

My mother initiated the conversation which was rare. “Hun...we got a call from the school today.”

I could see the hesitation in her eyes. It was annoying. “Sweetie, you know we want the best for you. And you’ve been doing really well. In school and outside of it but…”

“Rose, just give him the letter.”

His voice was gruff and I hated the sound of it. I simply turned my head and sighed. This is what happens when you let things get out of hand. I hate things that are out of my control.

My mother slid a piece of paper across the table. It was only a few words. Most of the paper was blank. The bottom was mainly white. Halfway through, the writing stopped. Honestly, it didn’t look like an official school paper. Then again, this is the first time I’d gotten a letter home.

Written in bold lettering at the top of it was: School Board Notice for: Makoto Azura. Reading those words over in my head made my stomach turn. I took a gulp and picked it up in my hands.

I was shaking.

I couldn’t have been nervous. I’m not one to get nervous. Maybe I was fearing for my reputation. Although...it was a natural human reaction to this type of situation so maybe I really was feeling nervous. Just a bit though.

Addressed to the parents/guardians of Makoto Azura,

Due to recent events, your child has caused a great disturbance in the normal functions of school affairs. Drama has no place in an environment of education. Your son has disregarded this in many instances. We must urge you to talk to him and show him how to get back on the right path.

If there is no change and/or response to this letter in the next three weeks, it will result in suspension. We hope to solve this issue with the utmost efficiency. Please see to it that it is handled in a timely fashion.

Sincerely, School Board of XXXX County

I had to forcibly bite back a groan. This was so annoying. And overall, a nuisance. There were a plethora of thoughts racing through my head at the time. But the emotion in front of them all was anger.

Firstly, these were supposed to be professional adults concerned with teaching students and getting them ready for their future. Why the hell were they getting involved in student drama? Just because it disturbed their sacred order of things? It was bullshit.

And secondly, did it really warrant a letter home? This all could’ve been said in a text or an email. Or even a call to the principal’s office. But a letter home? Wasn’t that a bit overkill?

And lastly, I was so ready to murder Marko. That loose-lipped fool was getting on my last damn nerve.

Honestly, why the hell would he do this to me? Once I figured it out I was going to make his life miserable. But I had to explain to my parents why they got this letter in the first place.

“Well, you gonna explain y’self or just keep starin’ at it like it’s foreign?” My father asked. His lack of regard to the way he spoke was another reason why I hated it when he would speak to me. Or when he spoke in general.

All I did was sit there. There was nothing to explain if you think about it. “If I had to guess it’s most likely about my distance from school work lately,” That lie would’ve gotten me kicked out of the drama club if I were to ever use it again. I’d been excelling in my studies. I was top of all my classes and not to mention I had just been offered 3 master’s courses.

But they didn’t know that.

“I haven’t been doing my best and I’ve been paying more attention to personal matters than learning matters. I guess the school picked up on it and well, you know the rest.”

“What personal matters?” My mother asked.

“Y’know, just normal teenage stuff. It’s nothing to worry about.”

My father stood up and slammed his hand on the table. Overreacting as usual. “If it was just normal shit then we wouldn’t be gettin’ phone call after phone call and letter after letter ‘bout you and your goddamn personal matters! So why don’t you quit the bullshit and tell us what you’ve really been doin’ up in that school!”

Ugh.

I stood up and placed both of my hands on the table as well, leaning my head in just a bit so that I could stare at him dead in the eyes when I spoke.

“Firstly, I don’t appreciate you talking so vulgarly towards your own son. Please treat me with respect. I’m a human just the same as you. So treat me as such,” I began, stroking up a second finger.

“Secondly, if you’ve been getting phone calls then that may be because I’ve been enlisting in club after club and helping with student council duties along with that. Maybe if you were to get off your ass and pick up the phone once in a while you’d understand that. But you never picked up the phone, did you? Exactly what I thought. And thirdly-”

My sentence was cut off by the crisp sound of skin against skin. A strike to my already sore face.

“And thirdly, you need to shut your mouth and remember who you’re speaking to! I’m your father, not one of your little friends! I’ll treat you with respect when you see me in the same eyes, got that?” He shook off his hand that had previously gone across my face.

Mouthing off definitely didn’t make this situation any better. Now, I was relatively aggravated.

“I know exactly who I’m talking to. And if you were one of my friends then this would be going a different way. I’m not one for teenage angst, but you need to piss off and stay out of my life before I do something I’ll regret.” I grabbed my backpack and made my way up the steps, making sure to slam the door to sell it all.

I locked it behind me and slumped down, heaving a heavy sigh.

“How annoying,” I mumbled.

“He’s out of control again, Rose! What the hell am I s’posed to do with a child who speaks to me like that? He needs to go to some sort of reform school or military camp or something! Because I refuse to let that bitch sleep under my roof rent-free!”

I could hear everything from under my room. My father was being unreasonable with my mother once again. He would ramble on about how terrible of a child I was, not allowing her to make her own argument in the matter. Although I doubt she would say anything even if he gave her the opportunity to.

See, my father wasn’t what you’d call a stable person. He was a pain to deal with in all honesty. Now, he didn’t go around hitting my mother and drinking himself into despair but he definitely wasn’t okay in the head. He had a short temper, and anger issues to chase them.

Although he’s never hurt me physically (not severely anyway), nor my mom, I can hear them fight all the time. More like a repeated one-sided argument than a fight I suppose.

After collecting my thoughts, I got up and took a shower. I needed to think this over and stop my body from aching. I told my mom I was alright but my whole body hurt like hell. A warm shower washed the pain away though.

Once I got out, I was patting my hair dry as I was headed downstairs. And in the process, I overheard a conversation I probably wasn’t supposed to. Then again, you couldn’t really get much privacy in any open space inside this house. Unless you were in your room or the bathroom, forget even thinking about privacy.

My father was pacing downstairs, clearly agitated about something. It was sort of entertaining to see. He was running his hands through his greasy hair and overall looked like a wreck. There was someone speaking to him and stupidly enough he had the whole thing on speaker. I sat on top of the steps, just far enough so that I was in earshot and still able to see him without him seeing me.

“No. No. I said, no! Look, I already have enough going on with this psychopathic child of mine, not to mention his mother. She’s a complete tool. She doesn’t combat me in any way. I don’t want a submissive little doll. I want a woman who can take control of a situation. And that’s you, Mary. So please don’t leave me, alright?”

Well so much for loyalty. I heard the yelling of a young woman over the line, she was clearly under immense pressure as well.

“I didn’t think I was going to stay with her this long, I swear! Jesus Christ, listen to me!” The phone went silent for a few moments and my father took that chance to get his words in. “I’ll divorce her, alright? And the child will go away with her. Or maybe into foster care or something, I don’t know at this point—” What came next was spoken quite clearly.

“If you send that poor boy into foster care I will tell your wife all the shitty things you’ve done behind her back! He doesn’t deserve that, no matter how psychotic you think he is! Do you know who you’re talking to? Do you know that I’ve been in foster care before? Bouncing homes and shit? Do you know how fucking hard it is to grow up in that environment? And you’re just willing to put your own son into that god-forsaken system to save your own ass? Are you fucking kidding me, Mason?”

Now, I hadn’t ever been in foster care, but the stories I’ve heard from comrades made it seem like a living hell. And I knew my dad hated me, but he was willing to put me up for adoption? And on top of that leave my mother? Just like that? What a shallow bastard.

“Mary, please, listen to me, I didn’t know okay? Just...just gimme some time and I’ll sort out something and we can be together. You know, in a nice ol’ house. By the beach maybe. We can start a family. You, me and,” He murmured a name that I couldn’t really pick up, going on. “And I’ll leave these two. All for you. Nobody else matters but you, Marianne.”

From there on, the conversation started to get friendlier but I could hear the annoyance in her voice from the other line.

And I’m assuming you’re wondering, ‘Where was your mother in all this?’. Well, she went out to withdraw some money for my father. And now that I’ve listened to this conversation, I’m almost certain he was spending all of my mother’s money on his side game. Seriously, it was like limbo with him. When you think he can’t get any lower, he gets lower. As low as he can go.

It wasn’t like he was broke. Quite the opposite. He was the CEO of one of the most successful companies in this shitty city. But maybe he didn’t care enough about this woman to let it show in his and my mother’s linked bank account.

I figured I’d heard everything I needed to. Standing up, I headed back to my room, feeling like I had just been dealt a brand new hand of cards to play against my father.

I’d heard the name Marianne plenty of times in our household. She was my father’s secretary. Yes, this was going to be one of those scandalous boss-secretary type deals. But I had a feeling it was going to be quite the ride.

But aside from that, I had to get the rumor situation underway.

Once I got into my bed, I plugged in my headphones. The sounds of classical composers like Debussy, Beethoven, Mozart, and the Nuvo Orchestra flooded my ears as I thought about how to solve this issue. I began to overthink the whole thing.

I always overthought things. And most things need to be overthought about. Mainly things such as these. I needed to think about every possible outcome to solve this problem. I was desperate. I needed to keep the validation. I wasn’t going to let one measly rumor tear me down from my pedestal.

When worse came to worse, I just put it simply. And the answer I got was:

Allison.

The conclusion I came to was Allison. She was the only one who was true to me and told me about the rumors in the first place. And for that, I knew she would fit perfectly in the grand scheme of things.

With her social standing and mine, if we were to get in a relationship it’d be perfect and the news would spread like wildfire and before I knew it, the rumor would be nothing but a memory.

So, what I did was pay off Allison to be my girlfriend for a month or so. And it worked surprisingly well. Yes, I know that it was quite sickening to pay someone to fake feelings for you, but it was basically an acting job if you think about it.

But it ended up getting more complicated.

She caught genuine feelings for me. And you can see how that can become troublesome. As student body president, rejecting girls came like breathing to me. Though, I suppose it would be harder to reject her since I was the one who gave her the wrong idea. I was ready to take the blame and play friends with her for the long run but I had to make a choice.

On one hand, there was the acceptance of Allison’s feelings. There weren’t many cons to that. I could date her for a while and then break up with her. It would be like we naturally drifted. Or at least, I could play it off as such.

On the other hand, I could reject her. There were quite a few cons to that. Given her status in the high school hierarchy, she could talk about how I paid her to be my girlfriend. Then even more whispers would spiral. Not to mention the fact that I had told her many times that it was just supposed to be an act. A ploy to clear my reputation. But in the wrong context, she could read that as, “I’m gay, pretend to date me to cover that up.”. And I wasn’t about to take that chance.

So, I did the logical thing and said, ‘Yes’ when she asked me to be her boyfriend.

I wasn’t completely against it. She was fairly attractive and stable in the mental sense. And she was also more intelligent than I had previously given her credit for. But at that time, I had things to do. I was planning on smoothing things out and leaving it there, but being the sick person I am, I wanted revenge. I needed revenge on the bastard who started it all.

Yes, Marko, it’s your turn to take the torturous spotlight in this story.

ᡣ𐭩

About a week or two into Ali and I’s ‘real’ relationship, I had already gotten to work on destroying Marko.

I wanted to make the last few years of his high school experience a living hell. He came after me for no apparent reason. Not one that I knew of at the time at least.

The first thing I did was confront him. And I won’t lie, I was beyond ticked off.

We met up after school, near a local corner store and that’s where I genuinely lost my shit on him. It was a shady place that we met up at. A back alley to be exact. It looked—and smelled—like a place where drug deals happen. Which they probably did.

As soon as I saw him, I pushed him up against the brick wall and just let loose.

“You! You fucking bastard! You started those rumors, didn’t you? Didn’t you? What? Did you think it would work? Huh? What the hell did I ever do to you? I haven’t done shit to you and yet you still went and tried to wreck my life! Honestly, tell me what the hell’s your problem with me!” I was ready to go on but I soon realized that he wasn’t worth my energy.

To my surprise, he was smiling the whole damn time.

“What’re you? Some sort of masochist? Are you enjoying this, you sick bastard?”

Marko simply started laughing.

He lightly pushed me off of him and dusted himself off. Like I was nothing. “Are you done yet? If so then take a walk with me, okay?”

“Yeah, like hell I will.”

“Your choice, but you’ll never get your answers if you don’t.”

At that moment all I could think of was how wildly seething with anger I was.

And did this bastard really just give me an ultimatum for information?

I sighed and pushed him forward. This was shaping up to be a really annoying situation. He led the way and pulled out a cigarette.

“Want one?” he asked, as he gestured the box towards me.

“I’m not here to be all buddy-buddy with you. I honestly hate your guts. I’m just here for answers. Nothing more, nothing less. And if you’re going to waste my time, then I have other ways to get what I want.”

He pulled out a blue lighter from his pocket and lit the cigarette, blowing smoke in my face. It stunk so bad. “Suit yourself, man. See, this is what I mean, you’re so fake.”

There goes that sentence again.

“What the hell are you trying to say about me then, huh?”

He took another puff and once again, blew it in my face.

“When you’re at school, or around other people, your ‘friends’ you wear this mask, dude. It’s a literal mask. You always wear that fake smile, and you act all nice and it pisses me off. I can tell that you’re not the person that people think you are. But yet they still believe you,” He stopped in his tracks and took another drag of his dwindling cigarette. This time, blowing it to the side, directly away from my face. “Why is that?”

“I’m not sure what you mean.” I dismissed with a light shrug of my shoulders.

Laughing, he smiled this toothy grin and took another puff, coughing as he did so. “And the biggest liar of the year award goes to: Makoto Azura!” He steadied himself and said, “Do you really think I’m gonna believe that BS?”

“It’s not BS! You’re delusional!”

But it was BS. He wasn’t delusional. He was spot-on in everything he was saying. Which was exactly why I had to shoot him down.

“You have this fake vision of me. That I’m someone who fakes everything and is really hurting inside or some sob story bullshit like that. You’re trying to make me a victim so that you can be a hero. Isn’t that it?” I accused, jabbing my index into his chest.

“You have a hero complex and because I was at the top, not struggling at all, you wanted to take that away and try to ‘expose’ me so that you could be the hero of my story, isn’t that right? Well, it’s not going to work.”

“Oh please. Why the hell would I want any part in your life? It’s sad and dreary.” He scoffed.

“How?”

Taking one last puff of his cigarette, he dropped it to the ground, grinding it with the heel of his foot. He stepped closer, and said, “Because you’re in it.”

Now, need me remind you, Marko is about a good foot taller than me, so I was a bit intimidated by him. But at this time I was purely driven by anger, and anger alone and insanely ready to fucking deck him.

“The hell’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, my voice low and dangerous as my fingers curled into a fist.

“For fuck’s sake, stop playing coy with me, Makoto,” He said as he flashed that smug-ass smile. God, it’s in these moments I realize how punchable his face is. “You don’t know who I am? Your father hasn’t talked about me?”

“Why would he?”

Once again he started to laugh and finally said, “My name is Marko Austin. Son of Marianne Austin.”

I was honestly going to laugh. I wanted to laugh. And at the same time, I wanted to murder my father. Because of him, my life has been a complete and utter train wreck. Of course he would fuck me over like that.

Somewhere inside, I honestly felt like hugging Marko. But the majority of me wanted to beat the living crap out of him.

“Do you get it now? Your father is a homewrecker.” He finally spat.

Sitting down, I leaned my head against the wall. How could I be so rash? I should’ve just come out and asked him in a calm manner. Instead, I acted just like the bastard who started it all.

Marko stood next to me and handed me a cigarette. “Want one now?”

Unfortunately, I did. And so I took it out of his hand and stood up. This obviously wasn’t my first time but I didn’t do it often. So, he pulled me a bit closer, giving me a light and I coughed as I breathed in the disgusting thing.

He pulled another out for himself too.

I sighed, taking a puff. Honestly, one moment ago I was ready to rip this guy’s throat out, now I was sharing a smoke with him? How cliché.

“So, what now?” He asked, calmly.

“What the hell do you mean ‘what now’? My question is still left unanswered. Why did you do it?”

Turning towards me, he sighed, “I thought you were supposed to be the smart one here. Azura, I did it because your dad ruined my life. But, talking with you now, I’m assuming you didn’t know. Did you?”

“No, I didn’t. I only found out recently and even so, that doesn’t give you a right or an excuse to do what you did to me,” I said, blowing smoke in his face, conveying my own frustration at the whole ordeal through the plumes.

I watched Marko’s face turn to one of somber understanding. Doubting he felt remorse but rather just slightly guilty for bringing in an unsuspecting third party to someone else's funeral.

As much as I wanted to walk right in and beat the brakes off of my deadbeat father, there was a small ‘eureka’ moment that enveloped me as I smirked. “You want to ruin his life? So do I.” I said calmly, my face one of newfound determination and conniving intent.

“Hear this, if you get all those stupid fucking rumors to subside, entirely then I'll get you what you want,” I began. “But after that, I want to never see your face again. Rather it be a passing glance, in the halls, or even in public, I want nothing to do with you. Understood?” The offer was a bit rash. I was surprised that I even put it out there whilst my blood still boiled from his immature leap to action that had caused me so much damn trouble.

Studying his expression for a moment, I saw the hesitation. He knew me–or rather, he thought he did–and so he should've known there was a catch. Maybe he did, but nonetheless, he shook my hand, agreeing to the offer without batting an eye. With that, I slipped him a business card of sorts with my contact info on it.

I pushed off of the wall, dropping my cigarette and letting it fizzle out as I stepped on it without mercy. Walking away, I raised a dismissive hand to wave.

“Call me, if I don't pick up, I'm ignoring you.” I purred before beginning on the path down the streets and back to my oh-so humble abode. Now to be a crash site for everything ready to unfold.

Orange and pink tinted skies, hues illuminating and casting harsh shadows over the neighborhoods gave me a sense of calm before a fucking tsunami. If I was going to make this all play out in my favor; bringing my father to his knees, freeing myself and my mother from his constrictive grasp, as well as getting my swift and merciless revenge on Marko, I'd have to play all sides. This was sure to be fun.

A/N: First chapter is published!! Thanks to an amazing delay from my dearest friend but after the long wait the series has kicked off! Please enjoy and leave lots of love so I can know if you want to see how this story unfolds! 🥡🥢

[thedragonagelesbian]

@isayashai replied to your post “I should write smthing......”:

kyr x sosiel sketching/painting fic 👁 ? cyrus x halsin cuddles? 👀

​wahhhhhhhhhhhh thank you <33333 yes much to consider.. it's not a full fic, but you inspired me to write a lil something for kyr & sosiel!!

Wrong. And wrong again. Paper crumpled, charcoal smudged, one hand heavy and aching, the other still a fist wrapped around the ghost of Graham's collar, both trembling in the wick-thin light of the guttering candle.

Another sketch. Another scowl. Tore the page from his sketchbook, tossed it aside, and tried again.

Grapes on the vine turned to strips of whipped, peeling skin.

"Sosiel..." Eyes like his own that he could not recognize no matter how many times he drew them, dredging warmth up from the recesses of his memories only for it to turn cold at the tips of his fingers. Again, again, again, he had to get it right-- "Sosiel."

Kyr's voice was sharper the second time, but it was his hands that broke Sosiel from his stupor, palms cool against the fever pitch of his cheeks. Sosiel blinked, and suddenly he was in the study again. In his body. Sore from base of his skull to his knuckles to the pit of his empty stomach, stiff even in his thoughts as he looked up at the Knight Commander.

"What is all this?"

Sosiel realized for the first time that he had destroyed half his sketchbook in one sitting, desk and floor alike littered with his failed attempts.

He shuddered.

"A foolish endeavor, nothing more."

Kyr glanced down at the last thing Sosiel had drawn: a man whose smile had become a snarl despite his every effort.

"Your brother?"

"Trever..." Sosiel couldn't say his name in anything other than a whisper, the kind of frightened prayer that came at the end of the world. "A-as best I can remember him, but I can't... I see him so clearly in my mind's eye, as the good, kind man I knew him to be, and yet every time I try to draw him, the image is distorted. As if my hand knows that it is a lie. And now when I try to think of him, it all blurs together. Everything that the Hellknight told us, all that vile cruelty taints my memories."

He spoke faster and faster, as if trying to catch up to that memory of Trever before it slipped from his fingers entirely, words and images spilling.

"If I forget him now," tears bleeding together, suddenly slow, "the only thing left will be a monster."

And Kyr. Aeon. Judge. A dhampir fit for hating other monsters. Would do his duty if they found him.

And would that not be justice?

"It will not be the only thing." There was something in Kyr's voice. A slight, hesitant quiver against his usual dry deliberation. "Remember what Halaseliax told us: as long as someone is alive, they can still change. Trever still has that. Will always have that. The possibility for redemption."

Whatever Sosiel had been expecting Kyr to say to comfort him--perhaps nothing at all, perhaps his wounds were not worth tending, made to be borne alone--it was not that.

Not after Kyr had warred with himself so bitterly just to let one cultist leave Terendelev's lair.

Sosiel looked up at him through watery eyes. "Do you really believe that?"

Surely you of all people must believe that we can all change for the better.

I have not changed.

"Yes." Kyr's thumb traced the tears along Sosiel's cheekbone. "I am trying to. Believe. In this, in second chances and salvation and choosing to be better. We will give Trever that chance when we find him."

These sketches--messy, brutal, unforgiving toward subject and artist alike--had made for poor worship of Shelyn. As, it seemed, did most of Sosiel's drawings these days, dwelling on the mutated flesh of Areelu's lab and the Ivory Sanctum. Whatever faith he still nurtured, a seedling of beauty tucked away, preserved but hidden, it flourished now. Not as any fruit or flower, something that would inevitably spoil and rot, but evergreen, pine needles all the more beautiful for the snow their boughs supported.

"Thank you..." Sosiel's voice broke with his body, unable to sit upright any longer. He crushed himself against Kyr instead, too feverish for his usual worries about impropriety. Instinctive, safe, hopeful as he nuzzled the other man's chest. Listened to that death-slow pulse beneath his shuddering. "Thank you, thank you."

It took a moment--it always did--but Kyr wrapped his arms around him and held him tight. "You're welcome."

[jerzwriter]

Sweet Start

Book:              Open Heart (Post Series)

Pairing:           Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Kaycee MacClennan)

Rating:            Teen +

Words: 1,050

Summary: Ethan and Kaycee start her 32nd birthday off with much to look forward to.

A/N: This will be leading into a big week for these two! I hope you enjoy!

Ethan x Kaycee Masterlist My Full Masterlist

The warmth of the morning beamed through the skylight and helped to nudge Kaycee awake. Snuggling against her pillow, she pulled the soft, down comforter over her shoulders and smiled. She wasn’t ready to wake up yet, but she was much happier than she typically was in the morning... especially before being caffeinated. Today was her birthday, the start of her thirty-second year. Most people believed it was the start of a vacation for her and Ethan, and they were right, of course.   But they knew they were only a few days away from so much more, and she loved sharing such a delicious secret with him.  

She dozed off again so she didn’t hear when Ethan entered their bedroom. He quietly approached the bed, holding a fine china plate with a decadent cupcake placed on top. He playfully held the plate in front of her nose, wondering if the sweet scent would wake her. When it didn’t, he had his answer. In the age-old question of what Kaycee MacClennan loved more, sleep or sweets, sleep had proven to be the victor. Nevertheless, they had a big day ahead... big days ahead... and it was time for him to wake her.

“Good Morning, birthday girl,” he sang, still standing over the bed.

With her eyes still shut tight, Kaycee broke into an adorable grin. She contemplated telling Ethan to hop back into bed; since it was her special day, he probably would have listened. But her nose picked up on the scent of the treat awaiting her, and that took precedence.

“Mmmm... do I smell something yummy,” she hummed, her eyes still shut.

“Why don’t you wake up and see?”

One eye peeked open, and when she saw the cupcake in front of her, the other quickly followed suit.

“Is this breakfast?” she asked.

“I know,” Ethan chuckled, “I usually wouldn’t approve... but... it is your birthday, and I want you to indulge in your every desire.”  

“Really,” she simpered. “Then you’re doing this all wrong.”

“I... I am?”

“Shouldn’t you be serving me that naked? I believe that’s how it happens in the movies.”

“Oh really,” he laughed. “Which movies are you referring to? Not the ones where a plumber or pizza guy will arrive any second to complete this picture?”

Kaycee jumped up, brushing her messy tresses from her face.  

“Ethan, whatever do you mean? My mind does not live in the gutter. Well, at least not this early in the day.” 

She grabbed the cupcake from the plate with the enthusiasm of a child and licked a large dollop of the icing off the top. She let out a slow groan Ethan was used to hearing in very different circumstances when the sugary concoction coated her tongue. His mind began to wander as she gently breathed, “Oooh, this is sooo goooood.”

“Hmmm,” Ethan smirked, sitting beside her on the bed. “Ironically, that was the next line in the movie I was referring to.”

“Is it?” she laughed. “So, does that mean I should expect the plumber-slash-delivery? Tell me, are they hot? Like Ryan Gossling or Margot Robbie hot? Because, if so... we could make this my bachelorette party... after all, I only have a few days left as a single woman.”

“Oh really,” he growled, suddenly not appreciating the joke he had started. “You may be a few days away from being married, but you’re not single, Dr. MacClennan!”

“Easy there, tiger,” she teased. “You started this nonsense, not me.”

She placed the cupcake on her nightstand and turned around quickly, pushing Ethan against the pillows. Her arms encircled him, squeezing so tightly that he let out a small gasp.

“All jokes aside, can you believe we’ll be married in just three days!”

“I know,” he chuckled as she squealed adorably at his side. “It’s hard to believe. It’s even harder to believe that almost no one besides us knows!”

“Hey, don’t jinx it!” She warned. “We already caved in and told our parents.”

Ethan ran his hands along the soft skin of her arms, delighting at the goosebumps that formed as his fingers traced circles over her flesh.

“That was the right move,” he insisted. “Our surprise wedding is a brilliant idea... but our parents and Naveen... I feel better not blindsiding them.”

“Me too, and not only because my mother would have killed me if she didn’t get to pick out what she would wear.”

“I’m shocked your mother hasn’t told anyone else yet. Not that she’d do it maliciously. I just figured she’d be too excited.”

“Oh, she is,” Kaycee assured. “But Dad threatened her.”

“Threatened her?” Ethan asked with a raised brow. “With what?”

“With that cruise, she’s always wanted,” Kaycee laughed. “All joking aside, I know it’s hard for her to keep this from everyone, but she knows it’s what we want. All she wants is for us to be happy, so she’ll honor our wishes.”  

“That’s good to know. Well, we have a lot on our plate in the next few days, but today’s your birthday... and it’s all about you... So, what would you like to do?”

“Oh, that’s easy,” Kaycee smiled. “You.”

“I’m sorry?” he chuckled.

“Oh, I’m not,” She bit her bottom lip as the corners of her mouth morphed into a smile, flipping over on top of him. “Are you telling me you don’t want to do me, Ethan? On my birthday of all days?”

Ethan’s eyes went dark as the playful expression on his face all but disappeared. With one quick movement, he nudged her legs apart with his knee. Surprised, Kaycee fell on top of him, giggling when she felt all the proof she needed that he wanted her as much as she wanted him pressed firmly against her lower stomach.  

“I’m glad we’re on the same page,” she teased.

“Turn the ringer off your phone,” he spoke gruffly into her ear. “You won’t want birthday calls interrupting what I have planned for you.”

Kaycee was eager to comply, reaching for her phone so quickly that she nearly fell from the bed.

“Now, what do you have in store for me, Dr. Ramsey?” she purred.

“Making sure your thirty-second year gets off to a rousing start.”

“It already has,” she whispered as his lips fell to her chest. “It already has.”

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

[melrosing]

btw love your Jaime takes! Was wondering what your thoughts on his dream of Rhaegar with Brienne? i personally find it fascinating and super important for his development.. his family meaning Cersei and Tywin are toxic influences he must leave behind so that he can grow as his own person while Brienne clearly plays a role in this. I also find it sad to see his regret and guilt about the death of Rhaegars family. Can’t help but wonder what the glowing swords mean? Do you think he has a role to play in the long night? I feel like he might but there’s also the valonqar prophecy to consider?

a jaime question we are back in business!!!

I have a lot of thoughts on Jaime's weirwood dream and maybe more than I can contain within one ask but here's my rough breakdown:

section one where Jaime finds Cersei, Tywin & assorted Lannisters I think quite straightforwardly these are the people that Jaime once thought defined who he was: his father, his sister, and the name they all share. but he finds himself quickly abandoned by both Tywin and Cersei who offer him no comfort, and leave him Naked and AfraidTM with no Lannister strength or support. He's effectively just one man in the dark and all that he had left to give his life and identity meaning is gone

section two where Brienne shows up Jaime finds meaning in Brienne!! when he'd lost all strength, hope and dignity, Brienne practically raised him from the dead by demonstrating all he could be and recalling what he had once wanted to be - he finds both his past and future self in Brienne. we also see a supportive and reciprocal relationship between them that was absent with the Lannisters - Jaime frees Brienne from chains, Brienne helps Jaime through the dark. and the dark is gone now: there's new clarity and hope since Brienne has arrived. and obviously we see Jaime's developing feelings for her through 'she could almost be a beauty/she could almost be a knight/it seemed to Jaime she had more of a woman's shape now' - like he's seeing her for the first time again since his 'rebirth' in Harrenhal, and is starting to put together new feelings without quite understanding what they are yet.

section three: Rhaegar and the lads firstly: think it's interesting that Jaime first mistakes Rhaegar in the distance for Ned. we'll come back to that.

but anyway I think the conversation with Rhaegar and the OG kingsguard is Jaime perhaps fully acknowledging for the first time how much that ~fateful day~ in King's Landing truly pains and guilts him - it's not something he can laugh off. we've only up till then seen him confidently state that killing Aerys was the best thing he ever did, and since hearing his side of the story the audience now agrees -but the KG's words show that Jaime still has a confused sense of guilt over it, and has not forgotten Rhaegar's kids either. he still cares about doing the right thing, and feels crushed by the idea that when he was given the chance to do it, perhaps he chose wrong.

I also think it's v interesting that Rhaegar's kids are prominent here, especially considering the earlier appearance of Ned which I think is interesting twofold. first, I think Jaime thought Ned had no right to judge him but that the KG do. second, I think that Ned's children are the new Rhaegar's children. granted Jaime has done a pretty fucking appalling job of 'protecting Ned's children' so far (like he almost couldn't have done worse lmao) BUT they are now what I think will take Rhaenys and Aegon's place in his mind. perhaps he can do right if he can save at least one of those kids. this right now is his second chance.

what do the glowing swords mean all sorts i reckon. hope. honour. legacy. life. I think Jaime's sword guttering out at the end of the dream isn't a foreshadowing of his losing his life at any particular time in the future, but rather the sign that right now, he has nothing to keep that flame alight - Rhaegar and co condemn him to darkness as they tell him he's done nothing to earn the light, and Jaime, in his panic, wakes up. and knows what he has to do to reignite it - hence rushing back to Brienne.

I don't think the valonqar prophecy comes into it because this was something that GRRM added at the VERY end of writing AFFC so it wouldn't factor into the weirwood dream in ASOS. I don't know that the dream suggests much about the long night either though I do think he'll have some kind of role??? depends what the TLN ultimately looks like but I am sure that GRRM means to reassemble the majority of the main POVs there and Jaime will surely be one of them, as will Bri.

[sylphidine]

[NDU] Scratch Spins And Shadow Dances

Written for the annual Rise of the Guardians Stocking Stuffer event for 2023.

@rotgsecretsanta

Prompt 30 - NDU Verse (Pitchiner and Pitch)

________________________

“Skiing?” “Good God, no.”

“Ice fishing? Snowshoeing? Tobogganing?”

“I haven’t a clue what that last one is, but it sounds truly vulgar.”

“Oh, come ON. It’s like a long flat sled that’s got a big curl up front, but no runners. You can fit like four or five kids on it, you shoot down the highest hill you can find, and you all jump off before you fall into the ravine or hit a tree.”

“Then I certainly haven’t participated in such a thing.”

“Seriously? Nobody ever did winter stuff with you when you were a kid? That’s just sad.”

“Winter weather out-of-doors involves getting cold and wet. I would think you would know me well enough by now to realize that being cold and wet irks me."

Pitch leaned forward from where he was perched on Coz's lap and gave him a rare, affectionate cheek nuzzle instead of a spiteful ear nip. He continued, "If you can keep your mind out of the gutter, I'm sure you can guess my OTHER favorite indoor winter sport, by simple process of elimination."

Coz gave him a shit-eating grin back. "Hmmmm… pickleball?" 

That earned Coz a hard smack on the shoulder as Pitch hissed like a scalded cat. “Do you really think my mother would allow such a pedestrian, uncultured, NOISY pastime in her house?”

“Nah, I guess not. Alright, Mr. ‘I’m too sexy for my pickleball’, I give up.  What indoor winter sport does the lofty Black family approve of and you call your favorite?”

With the air of one conveying a secret for the ages, Pitch replied proudly, "Ice skating!"

Coz mulled that over, confused for a minute until he figured out that by "indoor winter sport", Pitch was referring to an actual skating rink. He responded, "Huh. We finally have something in common."

“You skate?”

“Of course I skate.  You can’t grow up on the border of The Great White North without learning how to ice skate.”

“I’m not talking about ice hockey, you oaf.”

“Neither am I! Not to mention being part Russian. It's in the blood. You’d be surprised at what I can get up to when I’m bladed up.”

“Hmmmph.”

“I’m guessing that you and Piki grew up with little silver blades on your feet, to go with the silver spoons in your mouths.”

He'd meant that to sound banter-y, but it was apparently the wrong thing to say.

“If you’re going to be rude, I’m going to skip this line of inquiry.” Pitch started to wriggle off of Coz's lap, but not before Coz saw a flash of hurt quickly cross his bedmate's sharp-featured face. He shot out one beefy arm, circled Pitch's slim waist with it, and hauled him back in, holding him close to his chest.

"Hey. Hey, hey. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. I was only trying to say you must have been really cute on skates when you were a kid."

"Hmmph," Pitch groused again, but sounding less annoyed this time. He relaxed a bit in Coz's grip.

"My Russian great-aunt ran a skating concession stall up in Malone when I was little," Coz continued, "and she was really patient with the kids. If I close my eyes, I can see you there, too."

"Maybe in another lifetime," Pitch said musingly. "I doubt that my parents ever wintered  north of Saratoga Springs."

Coz wisely held his tongue this time, resisting the urge to scoff at the notion of rich people “wintering” in spots that saw not even half the snow he was used to. He said instead, “So. You. Me. Ice skating. Interested?” 

“You’re on. But ***I *** get to pick where and when.”

“Anything you say, dear.”

_____________

“You do know we could have just driven down, parked at my grandparents' place, and taken the subway here, don’t you?” asked Coz a week later from the backseat of the town car he and Pitch were currently riding in.

“Yes, we COULD have,” replied Pitch smugly, “but I wouldn’t want you all tired out and stiff before we even got to the rink.” Pitch couldn’t help grinning at the double entendre he’d slipped in there, and from the grin and the “oh HO” he got as an answer, Pitchiner hadn’t missed it. 

He gave himself a pat on the back. Had this been his twin brother trying to impress Jack Sickle, Piki would have sprung for buying a VIP package with unlimited skate time, never thinking to ask if Jack even LIKED ice skating, finding out the hard way about Jack’s traumatic past experiences with frozen water, and then flailing around for the rest of the date while Jack fell apart emotionally.

Pitch had more awareness of others’ sensibilities than Piki did, or ever would. [Never mind that it had been PROTO who’d told Pitch about how Jack’s sister died.  Information was still information.] He gave himself credit in finding out what Pitchiner considered fun, and had planned this outing accordingly. 

And no, this was not a date. He wasn't in love with dating Pitchiner.

Yes, it was Rockefeller Center. But no, he wasn’t trying to make a splash with money the way Piki would have.  Pitch’s current intent was to rent some skates and to do two 40-minute skate sessions with food and hot beverages in-between. Even the round trip limo service that he'd arranged between the NDU campus and midtown Manhattan was a practical concern, not meant to be flamboyant.

Nothing extravagant, therefore. Just something that normal people did at Christmas time.

Not a date.

He promised himself he wouldn’t laugh… much… at Pitchiner’s skating. After all, The Rink at Rockefeller Center was not some glazed-over puddle in the backwoods. Indoor ice skating required thoughtful panache, not mindless brawn.

An hour later, Pitch found himself taken aback.

He was used to looking at Pitchiner with attraction and lust. And quite frankly, who wouldn’t? He was muscled in all the right places and had a handsome face, even with the crooked nose.

Pitchiner in bed with Pitch was one tasty feast of a man.

Pitchiner on the lacrosse field was an unstoppable force of nature, one Pitch had to admire even if he didn’t understand the rules of the game. Not that Pitch would ever admit to such admiration out loud. 

But Pitchiner on ice skates… well, “beautiful” was the first word that leapt to Pitch’s mind, and once having leapt there, the word “beautiful” refused to be dislodged.

Somehow Pitchiner managed to convert his formidable muscle and sinew into something tight and focused. He wasn’t showy with his axels and spins. But he stuck every landing, pulled himself into and out of crouches and slides, and dammit, his sensual movements made Pitch regret his extra layers of clothing.

Pitch had at first restricted himself to circling the outer perimeter of the rink, with occasional twirls when he could be sure not to crash into other skaters. Having seen Pitchiner in action, he made up his mind to let loose, just a little.

He put on a bit of speed and caught up to Pitchiner, pulling just ahead of him in the circuit. Wordlessly he held out one gloved hand and was relieved to have Pitchiner reaching back.

Together they skated in silence, hand in hand, keeping pace with each other, complicated feelings on both sides expressed in motion, without words.

[ahmedmootaz]

[Spoilers for Canto 4 of Limbus Company and all of Lobotomy Corporation]

Ya know, for being neighboring corporations, K Corp and L Corp are awfully. They are so similar down to how they first obtained their signularities from well meaning caring people in the outskirts who ended up being transformed into the the singularities whose aim was to help cure people and who ended up turning into something other than human. So similar down to whose respective companions ended up mourning them and who ended up discovering that they secreted a potent green glowing liquid that could kill you in its raw form form but could serve as very useful and very powerful products after refinement that they became Wings and sell them as products well enough to financially fund themselves for years and run an entire District. So similar down to how said person turned singularities have bits of themselves seperated from the main portion such as a branch or an eye serving a similar role found in the branch facilities of the company being used to create more of the said liquid. So similar to how both Ayin and Stephanette originally had good intentions helping people only for the companies they established based on the wishes of the person they cared about getting all twisted and becoming just as cruel as the rest of the City. And so similar to both how things go down the gutter once Ayin and Stephanette die where the Dias and Alfonso, girl bosses who care more about profit and power than the original benign goal of helping others, take their place and are more than eager to exploit the hell out of the Singularities.

Lots of similarities ain't it?

Dear Anonymous,

I honestly wonder if it was intentional, to a degree. Perhaps some Wings rise with benevolent ideas at first before their owners die/are killed and those who take their place aren't exactly as...charitable.

After all, we know that Carmen, while unique, wasn't the sole person to feel something was wrong with the City. She was simply the first person Ayin knew to act on this feeling. Maybe there are other 'Carmen's, if that's the way to put it, who managed to reach the top of the City, becoming Wing owners like Stephanette did, but even if they managed to keep their morals without compromising, there's no guarantee that their successors will keep those same morals, as Alfonso did.

Although the other similarities with the colour references are quite striking...I want to say that this must reference something, but I also wonder if an artist at PM just thought 'yeah this looks good' and we're looking too deeply into the colours, but the theorist part of my mind says that it cannot be a mere coincidence...Though, I suppose we will find out later. Or maybe never, if PM decides that it doesn't want to address these similarities. Oh well, that's what 'Fics are for.

Still, I thank you for bringing up these intriguing similarities, Anon, and until next time, be well, take care, and see ya'!

[observer-on-duty]

Nancy was scanning some of the new reports on her desk. Ever since that mysterious email from that Robert guy was sent her way, they had been buzzing with activity in the Bureau. However, everything in this place made her more confused.

So far, from what she could have translated, the bottom level was a place of worship, for the "Creator" of these beings. The beings themselves were far more grotesque than what anyone in the Bureau has ever dealt with. They deal with corpses on a daily basis!

One of the beings, lovingly given the code of A-1, looked like it was rotting away. It made loud, gutteral screams and spent time hitting things around it. Its body had several places of broken, unset bones by how much it threw itself into destruction. Its broken teeth were permanently bared, and it used them excessively. It was aggressive in every way, and was too dangerous to send personnel individually to the location. However; it was blinded by rage, smelt like death and rotting, and was loud as all hell. Making it incredibly easy to hide and track its locations on the premises.

The next one seen on the cameras and footage was one that was only seen in a few rooms. It sounded so lost and sad on the recordings. Its whole body was covered in possibly self-inflicted, or inflicted by A-1, wounds. It was given the code A-2. Although it was incredibly malnourished, it was just as dangerous as A-1 when provoked. However, it seemed more remorseful of harming others, thus making it considered safe for the personnel to travel around it. If no one bothered it, it didn't bother anyone else. However, when watching the clips, A-1 screamed off camera, causing A-2 to run and hide away from the more dangerous entity.

There was a third one, well, only a glimpse of a third one. It was a shorter one. It wore shadows like a cloak, and was gone in the next picture. This one was called A-3. It was intelligent enough to avoid recording equipment, but it was just in that one picture.

This was only three of the original seven Robert told her about through email. Nancy had already set up an interview in a public setting with him, but something..... Something wasn't right. Something felt incredibly wrong.

Something that was above the Bureau's level of expertise. Nancy was ready to confront the CEO of the Bureau for some answers. The folks that dealt with the Backrooms would be more capable. Hell, she'd ring up O5 Council if the CEO gave her the opportunity. She didn't feel the static that came from the Anomalies she dealt with, Nancy felt disgusted, like she rolled in the mud and went to bed, kind of disgusted.

The Bureau was spread thin enough between their current investigations, but she couldn't get the CEO to actually listen to her. So caught up in her thoughts, Nancy didn't notice the appearance of the Intruders, not until a bony hand touched her shoulder. Nancy let a small smile out, and placed her hand over the Director's. She turns and looks at them, reaching out to grip Huge Man's.

"What are we going to do about this, guys?" She asks. "This is going to cause so many issues, and so much loss. But the CEO refuses to send in the people who are licensed and trained for this!" Nancy was never a very emotional human, but this was just too much on her. The Director was the first one to pull her into a hug, before Huge Man brought both of them to his lap. She cried and let loose all the frustration that had been building up in her body.

Once her mind was back in place, she pulled away, looking at the Intruders with a flushed face.

"How about we take a break and get something to eat. My treat." She chuckled as their eyes lit up. She needed something in her stomach, and a glass of water after a good cry like that. And if these documentations wound up forwarded to the O5 Council, without the CEO knowing? Well, that was just between her, and the two Intruder Anomalies, who would always have her back.

[saltygilmores]

Thoughts While Watching Gilmore Girls Season 2, Episode 15, "Lost And Found", Aka The Bracelet Has Breached Containment, Aka BraceletGate, Aka QuarterOnAStringGate, Part 4

As we round the bend and reach the shitty middle of the shitcircus that is Lost and Found, may I remind you what Dean, Lorelai, and Rory are going to war with Jess for:

I need a Quarter on A String prequel . I need the origins of this quarter and the sheer power it wields over pathetic people like Dean and Lorelai. It is fascinating to ponder. I mean, I know what a quarter looks like, but still, Is there someone with editing skills who can lighten this shot for me so we can have a better look at it? #Please Or maybe the Forresters took a family vacation, intending on leaving their son Dean at some distant gas station, never looking back, but before dumping him he got one of those pressed penny souvenirs they sell at rest stops.

(of course Dean first gave it to Rory outside when it was pitch dark so she would have to be like, oh yeah this is so nice Dean. Because she can't see a damn thing, and maybe in the moonlight it looks kinda pretty, but then when the sun rises Rory's like oh, it's just a fucking quarter. A quarter that now carries a heavy burden as it must be affixed to my wrist at all times or I'll face the wrath of Dean the Butt and My Mom The Butt).

Here we fucking go. Keep in mind Rory only cares so much about the Rest Stop Penny because Dean will be angry that she lost it. That's it. Why Lorelai cares so much about the RSP is a question only wise men can answer.

Jess quietly observing the freak show. I suppose asking for change from a dollar and punching a hole in a coin took a small amount of effort on Dean's part, but "made" is pushing it.

Ancient Technology/Discontinued Snack Food observation break!

Lorelai agreeing out loud that Dean's anger would have consequences for Rory that are too terrifying to contemplate Instead the Gilmore Girls GPS sends Lorelai right past "We Both Readily Agree That Dean's Anger Is Nothing to Mess With" Bouelvard and reroutes her to "it's okay he'll just make you another one" Street. Yes, I'm sure he can have another one made. Next time Clara's girl scout troop meets at his house he can give them a Quarter on a String arts and crafts project. For about the 200th time in just 1 and a half seasons, Rory tells her mother that Dean has an anger problem. Lorelai assures her that Dean will understand. Rory asks Lorelai how she can be so sure. Lorelai responds: "His track record points to him being understanding." A view of Lorelai's brain circuits:

But enough about your sexual fantasies again, Lorelai. I like the part about rendering Dean Forrester blind though.

Please hobble Lorelai GIlmore's knees with the rake. And now, a break down of how this episode and Teach Me Tonight are virtually the same story. -Something happens to Rory that is troublesome (loses her bracelet/ minor car accident) but Rory cares less about what happened to her than Lorelai does. Lorelai immediately dials the minor incident up to 11.

-Luke offers Jess up without his consent to either perform or receive some kind of service from or by one of the Gilmores (gutter slopping, tutoring). Lorelai reacts to these suggestions as if her very life is in danger. -The inatimate object at the center of the war was "made" by Dean (his car and his QOAS). -Dean will get mad at Rory for something happening to her that was no fault of her own -Lorelai becomes absolutely hysterical -Rory is like it's not THAT bad, I'll be fine Mom, maybe you're over reacting just a skosh -Lorelai is like you are not fine, daughter of mine! -The accident and the lost of the QOAS was not due to Jess being malicious or because he just likes to steal Rory's stuff and crash her cars but try telling Lorelai that -33 Year Old Lorelai Gilmore declares war with a teenage boy, has him exiled from town -Jess Mariano contemplates where his life went wrong and quietly wishes he was still living with his negligent alcoholic mother and her parade of abusive boyfriends (oh, right, that actually happens after TMT). We cut to Lorelai at work where she is crawling around on her hands on knees on the dirty motel (I'm sorry, INN) floor looking for Rory's bracelet under her desk. I guess Lorelai is like her own boss, she doesn't have someone above her, like a manager or something to tell her to stop loafing and looking for quarters while on the clock and demote her back to housekeeping duties. She also asked Michel to help her look for the QOAS and he is not amused. Great job Lorelai, making Americans look ridiculous in the eyes of Europeans, like we need any more of that. L: I turned the house upside down! Rory is having a heart attack! It's just awful! Rory having a heart attack:

When I tell you I am physically, literally WHEEZING over Lorelai Gilmore's dramatics. I completely forgot the Jess and Luke Looking for An Apartment b-story at the beginning of this episode. This episode is like slogging through mud so that plot feels like four years ago. Seen below, a Historical Curiosity: The birthplace of the Quarter on a String.

I love when Luke uses casual swear words. A much needed "Ass" in these trying times. This show could use more of them. Ass ass ass ass! Luke goes into one of his famous Nuclear Rants about the cost of apartment living (deposits! pet fees! parking fees! laundry fees!) so I guess Jess isn't going to be getting that seperate bedroom he was desperately hoping for. Whether its a rant about the pitfalls of marriage or shopping malls or rental properties or red meat, Luke Danes has his finger on the pulse of society.

Luke Danes appreciation. God, I appreciate you so much. I mean that in a totally non sexual way. Thank God you exist.

Okay, I forgot about Lorelai and Luke go looking at apartments together in this episode, which I remember to be quite enjoyable and full of delicious tension. Praise the lord, we have filler! I repeat, we have filler!

Lorelai leaves work in the middle of the day to go look at apartments with the local diner owner. In my gritty Gilmore Girls reboot titled The Hollow, the Independence Inn will have been purchased by some major hotel chain and Lorelai would be a victim of the first round of layoffs. We cut to Luke and Lorelai touring an empty apartment, where Lorelai offers to lick Luke's face. The real estate agent mistakes Luke for Lorelai's husband and Lorelai plays along and this whole scene is just....edible.

Luke: Yep, 14 years from now, I'm totally gonna make this crazy bitch my wife and even briefly consider reproducing with her. God, Lorelai is so downright tolerable and at times enjoyable to watch when she's sexually harassing Luke but her interactions with everyone else make me want to claw out my brain matter with my bare hands. But this tension right here??

Lor: What's wrong this place? Luke: It's too big. I don't need two bathrooms. Lor: Yes you do. And you and Jess will kill each other if you stay where you are. I gotta hand it to Lorelai. Because at least she's been advocating for Jess getting his own bedroom and bathroom. We know it won't happen, but the effort has not gone unnoticed. Can't wait for this minor bit of goodwill she's earned with me to be dashed to smithereens in the next few moments. Lor: It's a two year lease. Luke: Yeah, but who knows how long he's going to be here. Lor: Why? Did something happen? Oh, NOW you care about Jess. You're just trying to get in his uncle's pants. Luke: Even if he does stay, it'll only be for another year, and after that he'll go off to college, or Attica prison. Wrong on both counts, Lucas, but YOU go to jail (I think in season 5 or 6?) Still trying to figure out why everyone thinks Jess is a criminal. Although I believe with every beat of my cold black heart that Jess does eventually get his GED and go to college. Luke is sad about the fact that no matter what,Jess is going to leave him in the next few years, leaving Luke back at square one, living alone forever in this new apartment. I think the fact that he can admit, if only subtly and in his very emotionally closed off Luke Danes sort of way, that he would be lonely without Jess is nice. Even if he does think it'll be because he went to prison.

Or some crazy bish who turns her house upside down looking for a QOAS. You're fucked, Lucas. Still haven't arrived at the rotting meat of this episode. To be continued.

[shantyslimes]

Do you think that different clans try and instill different moral values? Like some are obvious, Brujah tend to be aligned with the Anarchs more so they probably are more likely to instill a sense of independence and stick with the ones who stand right by you, or Tremere who tend to be very Camarilla aligned likely try to instruct this sense of loyalty to their formers and secrecy about their clans secrets to all others, right

But I think other clans probably try and give something so fuck it here's what I try and have NPC clans typically teach in my games (note these are never universal and absolutely should not be treated as such)

Brujah: In modern nights they're usually kept as typically anarchs or short tempered rebels, but most punk movements or what are typically considered "violence driven" anti-authority groups tend to have pretty strictly agreed code without ever saying it out loud. So there's the rule to respect anyone from a distance, don't start a fight and you won't get in a fight. If someone starts a fight with you, fucking beat their ass and make it clear that starting shit is a bad idea. Don't go around acting like a big shot and nobody has to put you in your place, which will be the gutter.

Also special shoutout for the Cammy brujah who enforce the traditions but then also emphasise "but if they're being a dick, just don't start any fights you ain't gonna win."

Gangrel: Survive. More than anything, don't do something that will get you killed. That means follow the traditions, but don't make a fuss over them if you're in sabbat turf. Stand by the people who are good to you, but don't be gullible enough to trust them unconditionally. Top priority is do not get yourself killed. The secret to immortality is not pissing anyone off enough to have them kill you.

Giovanni: Look, you're going to inevitably do something fucked up, but just try not to break the law when you're breaking the law, yeah? You can trust the rest of the clan, probably, but just in case, don't be afraid to screw up and get a few things wrong as long as the worst case scenario isn't going to bite you in the ass, because it'll hurt a lot more than their bite ever could.

Lasombra: You are not human. Kine are not human. Forget about all of that. They are food. You are horror incarnate. Fucking act like it or you will be thrown aside and destroyed for failing.

Malkavian: Malkavians are taught the phrase "good luck with the psychosis" and then how to use psychosis like a gun. Morals are not a factor.

Nosferatu: You're a horrifying abomination, we don't feel bad, but if you can actually get a leg up on people, then you shouldn't feel bad. Legality and morality are not the same, but you really shouldn't care about either.

Toreador: Crimes are forgivable if you're hot enough.

Tremere: The greater good of the clan is more than yourself, you are but a part of a larger system. Hoard your power, yes, but remember that you yourself are part of the larger hoard of the clan's power.

Ventrue: There's a hierarchy in the world, and you're on top. Therefore, as the ones in power, we set the rules, we decide the game, and anyone complaining about either aren't worth your time. You stand on top, so look down on the rest because they have not earned the right to look forward and see anything more than your boot, ready to be cleaned.

Anyway those are just the ways I like to have clans raise their childer and teach eachother how to act. How much an individual listens depends on the specific Kindred, but also keep in mind I like to play a lot with expectations of your elders when writing cainites.

[plasticross]

==> Talk to your....self?

White knuckled, you grip your mirror, milky, useless eyes as wide and owl like as always. You can't help but chuckle, he looks just like you. Your reflections reaction was told to you through pattern like words, swirling around in a square shaped spiral that wrapped around the curves of my. his. your face like a form of bookish echolalia. As always, the light hums lowly into your ears from the expensive bulbs that never endingly glow through out your house. The description was all wrong however, despite your clenched teeth and flaired nostrils, you stare back with bright, energetic eyes. A toothy smile with a gap between each tooth. The reflection wears your face as it taunts your silent frustration as you look for any proof that it wasn't you.

"Why him!?" You say, your knuckles attempting to somehow grip harder than you already were. "WHY ME?! I HAVE ASKED FOR NONE OF THIS." Your voice is hoarse, but it usually is. Worn out from half shouted sermons passionately ripped from your throat from some unseen force.

No one asks to be what they are, no one asked to be born.

"NO ONE HAS A PHONE LINE TO THEIR GODS TELEPHONE," you yank, forgetting for a second that no one is actually there, and pull your bathroom mirror open. Cheeks turning pink from the embarrassment, you slam the mirror shut, hoping that it'll shatter into a million pieces. But no such luck, he returns to look at you with a pout.

You really will like him. Just give it time, and you will see. Have I lead you astray before?

He You shake, mouth pursed tightly as you stare at this animal wearing your skin, his large eyes, his gnashing teeth, blink cutely as he assumes this is any sort of convincing. It is. Maybe. He hasn't led you astray.

But you never asked to be led. You never asked for this life or this man, or Pepper, or any other stepping stone he crushed and broke your feet while laying down. You never asked to be a priest, a mother, a sister, a nun, an angel, or anything but to be allowed to breath. To dance. God you wanted to dance. And he laughed and smiled and danced around you, humming like flood lights and singing electric songs that burnt your eyes worse than the sun. He made you like him before you were ready, he made you see letters instead of people, he chose for you, and if you didn't listen then....

You yank the mirror, nearly ripping it off of its hinges, and begin to slam, over and over, your mouth clamped shut, silently and violently. The wall shakes from your force, your perfumes rattling and falling off their organizational shelf until the mirror shatters in your hands. Half of the pieces clatter to the floor, while the rest desperately cling to the glue.

Taking a step back, you hear a piece of glass shatter under your weight and thank god that you are wearing your boots- before realizing that, that was likely his doing as well. You stumble back, sitting on the edge of the tub, nervous system high strung, blood boiling. You bend in on yourself and let out a gutteral scream into your lap, shoulders shaking from the force.

"What the hell is your PROBLEM?!"

The bathroom door flies open. You ignore him, but you stop screaming, embarrassed by your outburst you choose to run away into your mind instead, your arms shifting to hide your face from your boyfriend.

His face is twisted into something between irritation and concern, as if he were angry at first, before realizing that it was more serious than first assumed. Like usual, Peppers nails find his way in his mouth as he quickly trots over to your side. He stops when his shoes make contact with the glass, and he only takes a small look at the mirror. Your self destructive tendencies have already be come like second nature to him.

"Cylo, dude, what is-.. okay..." He runs his hand through his hair, and then places his hand on your back. "You're all quiet right now probably. Right? Just.... We'll talk about it in a sec. Catch your breath man."

You resent how he talks to you, that uncomfortable wilt in his voice everytime you have an outburst like this. All it did was remind you how much further up you are than any peony left on earth C. Your issues were undescribable, unrelatable. The only thing people can truly do is watch as you burn for their entertainment, the light from that eye burning you to a crisp.

"Y'know. For a guy who can't see himself you sure break a lotta mirrors." He lightly kicks a larger piece of glass.

[i-did-not-mean-to]

U - Unexpected

This beautiful art has been done by @lycheesodas and thus, I am delighted to dedicate this piece to this amazing friend and artist :D

Words: 677

Pairing: Beleg x Mablung

Warnings: Minor injury

“Beleg!”

Beleg looked up from the dossier he was working on in surprise; he was working late, catching up on some paperwork, and had believed his beloved Mablung to be stretched out on the couch with a documentary by this time.

Consequently, he was astonished to behold the very man, storming into the small veterinary clinic as if the wolves of Sauron were on his heels.

“What is it, love? Are you ill?” Beleg asked automatically, only realising that Mablung would not have chosen this kind of practice if that was the case upon seeing the confused expression on the man’s face.

“No, but they are,” Mablung panted and brandished a cat dramatically.

Beleg looked at the brownish-grey tabby with professional curiosity and decided—barring some mysterious illness that would not show any visible symptoms—that the tomcat was in excellent health.

“It was meowing pitifully, surely it is hurt,” Mablung went on. The urgency in his voice was probably entirely uncalled for, but Beleg was nonetheless touched by how deeply his boyfriend seemed to care about a random stay he had picked up from the gutter.

“Let me see the little bugger then,” he said softly and reached across the counter to take hold of this unexpected patient—as soon as his hands touched the matted fur though, a quick paw lashed out and swiped a set of razor-sharp claws along Beleg’s cheek.

With a choked cry, the veterinary doctor flinched back.

“Oh no,” Mablung cried, overwhelmed and torn between wanting to avenge his partner and trying to protect the cat.

“It’s quite all right,” Beleg assured him. “He looks hungry and grumpy. Let’s see first if he’ll eat something. Once he’s been fed, he might be mellow enough to let me examine him.”

“It’s a boy?” Mablung asked while he watched his beloved measure out a cup of premium cat food.

“He is,” Beleg acquiesced. “If you don’t want to keep him, I’m sure we’ll find a good home for Noldo.”

“Noldo?”

Beleg chuckled awkwardly. “I would not have chosen this profession if I was not generally popular with animals—it is exceedingly rare that one takes an instant dislike to me. Except…”

Shrugging, Mablung had to admit that he was not entirely wrong. “Noldo it is then…”

Beleg set the bowl down on the counter and Noldo pounced on it without hesitation; satisfied that his first diagnosis had been correct, Beleg lifted his eyes towards his partner and smiled.

Mablung—so serious and stone-faced and yet so laughably transparent—was biting his lip and shuffling his big feet against the linoleum floor; it was evident that he had something on his mind.

“You want to keep the blasted thing, don’t you?”

“Well, he likes me!” Mablung said defensively—they were both so used to people falling over themselves to get into Beleg’s good graces because he was so charming and approachable, but it was much rarer that something similar happened to Mablung.

“Of course, he does,” Beleg laughed, “you are the kindest person on earth and you look good enough to eat in those trousers!”

“I do not think the cat has much appreciation for my wardrobe,” Mablung grinned, “but thank you, my love. So….”

Beleg patted Noldo’s head very carefully and walked around the counter to sling his arms around Mablung’s comforting, muscular midriff.

“Of course, you can keep the cat,” he purred, “and you two can conspire against me if that makes you happy.”

“I would never,” Mablung immediately refuted the mere idea. “He just needs a home.”

With a shivering sigh, Beleg leaned his face against Mablung’s chest, running his hands across that broad, strong back eagerly.

“There is no better home for a feral stray than you,” he whispered fervently. “I would know.”

After a quick once-over—Beleg had been right and the cat was as fine as he possibly could be—and a short trip to the storage room, they finally took the newest member of their household, firmly snuggled into Mablung’s protective embrace, back to his forever home.

@fellowshipofthefics: here's the next one!

As always,

Lots of love from me

-> Masterlist

[snarky-synesthete]

Hi, I read in one of your posts that you "almost have a masters degree in motivating the unwilling" and I just wanna say please. Halp. I'm ruining my life by being the way I am and I can't stop. Everybody talks about my "immense potential" and how it's "such a waste of intelligence" for me to be the way that I am. I'm honestly drowning.

Oh wow. If I had a dollar for every time somebody told me that, I'd be able to afford a life coach for my ownself, lol. I have a pretty significant little alphabet soup of disorders to my name, but I didn't get diagnosed with any of them until my early 30s. What that means is that I had to find ways to compensate for my shitshow of a brain, so I have a lot of tips and tricks. I'm currently working on my doctorate as well, so I'm doing lots of research around mental heath, focusing on teen mental health since I work with teens every day.

First off, you're not ruining your life. You're just living it. Your life isn't something that needs to be put through the wash and purified. It is what it is, and you are who you are. The fact that you're here and breathing and *wanting* to improve are already wonderful things. You're doing okay. ^_^

Next, think about what you want your life to look like. This is a good journalling prompt. There's no wrong way to do this. You can get really specific, right down to the new furniture you'd like to fill your space with; you can have just big picture stuff: "I want to survive high school" or "I want to wake up looking forward to the day." Try to think in positive terms rather than negative. I don't mean "I want to feel happy!" necessarily: but think of things with positive *action*: instead of "I don't want to feel miserable," which is a negative, something you want to subtract from your life, think of a positive: "I want to feel better," "I want to re-connect with an old hobby," "I want to start a diary," things like that. It's easier, sometimes, for our weird monkey brains, if we start off *adding* something new instead of *stopping* something old...even if the "something old" is part of what makes us miserable.

For example, a lot of people want to stop smoking. Quitting cold-turkey is possible, sure, but it's a god-awful experience. Instead of thinking of it as "subtracting" smoking, a better approach would be to ADD something new that can slowly start taking its place. An example in this scenario would be to add in another oral treat you enjoy (I see your mind in the gutter, hello, nice place!) that can take the place of just one smoke a day. A really nice chocolate truffle, or some spicy crunchy chips, or a fancy lollipop. That way, your brain isn't necessarily feeling a *deprivation* or the lack of something it has come to expect, but you're still lowering your daily nicotine consumption.

So that might be the easiest way to start. Look at any habits you might have that don't make you feel good, or that you don't want to carry with you into your future. I don't want to call them "bad habits" because that implies a judgment call, which I am NOT qualified to make about your lived experiences. Obviously, that habit served its purpose for you at some point! But if it's no longer serving you, try to slowly replace it with something that does. Think of it as a shift rather than a removal, and your brain will tolerate the change more easily.

If you wanna get more specific, feel free to DM me, @justanexistentialcrisisnbd ^_^

[skippthecredits]

let me just make something super fuckin clear real quick to all you bozos who've never been on the wrong side of a baton before: if you rat someone out, you're a piece of shit. if you rat someone out for crimes they committed years ago and have clearly moved on from, you deserve whatever the fuck anyone does to you at that point. your ass is less than human to me. I don't care what gutter you end up in, if I see someone beating your ass in an alley I will mind my own business just like you should've minded yours. you don't know why they're hiding. you don't know just how much they could lose if the wrong people knew where they were.

smh back in my city snitches are LUCKY to get stitches :/ fuckin sucks that they're so bold on this hellsite tbh someone needs to give them like a taste of consequences at least