#it’s a nice thought and there’s some aid out there but college is infinitely more fun when you have money

[vaaaaaiolet]

the honors credit policies at my uni are so aggravating i might jump

[twiistedgalaxies]

Cuck for One Uses Tinder

"All for One, infamous boogeyman of the underworld, felt his non-existent eye twitch as one of his minions slid a stack of forums onto his desk. They were divorce papers. In a matter of moments, said minion became a red smear on the office wall. He had broken out of Tartarus for this nonsense? Seriously??"

A/N:  I'm sorry, I don't have any excuse for this. I woke up in the middle of the night with the plot idea for this fic and thus this monstrosity was born. Bone Apple Teeth.

        All for One, infamous boogeyman of the underworld, felt his non-existent eye twitch as one of his minions slid a stack of forums onto his desk. They were divorce papers. In a matter of moments, said minion became a red smear on the office wall. He had broken out of Tartarus for this nonsense? Seriously?? Made even worse was the fact that, with the aid of search, he found that All Might, kami damn him, and his now ex-wife were constantly spending time together. He had half a mind to head to the apartment complex that he owned and paid for and reclaim what was his.

        “Sensei?” A familiar, raspy voice spoke up behind him and he felt the onset of a stress induced headache. The brat was meant to be his successor and potential replacement body. Unfortunately, those damn heroes had broken into the hospital before he could be fully developed, and All for One had to fish the young man out of a decayed crater the size of several city blocks before he could be thrown in Tartarus in a cell next to him. He wanted eventual retirement, and has had his plans foiled at every turn.

        “Yes Shigaraki?” he replied, standing up from his chair.

        “What happened? I underwent the operation one minute and the next thing I knew-”

        “Ah, that. You were awakened several months before you were meant to. That’s why I called this doctor here to-” He glanced at the red stain, realizing that the man in question had been eviscerated in his divorce-papers induced rage, “-No matter, I’ll do it myself, come.”

        All for One led Shigaraki down a series of winding hallways and stairs into a room filled with large test tubes and the few Noumu that remained after the raid on Dr. Garaki’s hospital. He stood before one that was open, not yet filled with the preservation fluid that left the Noumu in suspended animation. “Everything should be calibrated properly, if you’ll just step inside, the process will resume.”

        Shigaraki scowled, “I’m not doing this for you,” he clarified, scratching the back of his neck, “This dream is my own, this is just the means to an end.”

        If All for One had eyes, he would have rolled them with disdain, instead he said, “Sure, just step into the machine Tomura, or would you like to remain in your half-finished state?”  

        The young man let out a huff and begrudgingly complied. All for One injected him with enough anaesthetic to subdue a horse and closed the convex glass door. He fiddled with the controls for a moment - he hated being, for all intents and purposes, blind - and soon the tube was filling with preservation fluid as Shigaraki’s upgrades resumed. It was only then, in the greenish glow of the underground laboratory, that All for One realized with some dread that he had months of unfilled time on his hands.

-@~*^*~@-

        All for One’s first course of action was to break into the bedroom of a young girl on the UA campus. He had, through his various underground contacts, heard of the Overhaul incident. How a man so incompetent had managed to go so far in his plans baffled him. Truly, the state of the hero industry has fallen since his prime. It was not the man’s fanaticism nor his sadism that fascinated him, but rather the child he’d had in his possession that was now under UA’s care. Her quirk, Rewind, was rather interesting with infinite and overpowered applications. He’d be tempted to take it for himself permanently had she not emotionally latched herself to a certain, green haired teen that proved time and time again to be a thorn in his side. It was simple enough to slip through UA’s security in the dead of night, to disable all nearby cameras with a mere flick of his hand. It was a wonder what a technopathy quirk could accomplish. 

        She was asleep, small face peaceful. He could feel contentment radiating from her. Likely having a good dream, he mused. Gently, All for One placed one of his large hands on her forehead. He borrowed her quirk, and felt his body rewind several years, before his fateful battle with All Might. He couldn’t help the satisfied smile that crept across his face as he opened his eyes for the first time in nearly a decade. Quickly, he returned Rewind to her and used a warp quirk (the same one he used in Kamino) to leave the premises. There was no need to alert the heroes to his restored state. Yet.

        At least he’d be able to show up to his divorce hearing in person, though it would take every ounce of willpower he had to not level the courthouse.

-@~*^*~@-

        All for One was lounging on his couch in his makeshift home and using his phone in an attempt to understand The Youth (which to him, was anyone who wasn’t in a nursing home). On a whim, he installed Tinder, it had been decades since he really got into the dating world. His lover has been villainy, generally being an asshole, and terrorizing aspiring heroes. Having to wait for his plans to unfold was making him restless. Anyways, he was planning to get into politics now that he had his face back, as a way to enact social change without having to deal with a slew of moronic underlings. It didn’t hurt to build the foundations for his retirement, and having at least some people in his life could make him more relatable to the public and help his long term goals. He was planning to use his ex-wife and estranged son for this, but the divorce threw that plan out the window. People don’t tend to trust those who spring into existence seemingly from nowhere. (To be honest, he was just lonely, not that he’d admit it to anyone, especially not himself.)

        Where was he? Ah yes, Tinder. As it stood right now, he was swiping through the incredibly vain and shallow app, no one had truly caught his eye. No one that is, until his gaze (and didn’t that feel good to say?) landed on a disheveled man with long dark hair, stubble, and dark undereye circles that stood out against his pale skin. Aizawa Shota, 31. Eraserhead. He was tempted to swipe left on impulse when he paused. Getting close to heroes could be convenient to his political goals. There was no better or more ironic way to take out the hero commission than from within after all, plus it would give him information his underground contacts lacked. Yes, this would do nicely. (And if he found the man’s sleep deprivation and dry sense of humor charming as they spoke through text that night, well, that was just a side benefit.)

        They had decided to meet at a nearby cat café that evening, and All for One showed up in his best suit. It was a dark, wine red and chosen to match his eyes. Belatedly he realized he was overdressed when Aizawa showed up in a simple t-shirt and dark jeans. Whoops.

        He extended his hand for the other to shake, “Hisashi Kamiya, a pleasure to meet you.” It was absolutely not a pleasure to meet the erasure hero, but Aizawa didn’t need to know that. He couldn’t help but quirk his lips at his own last name. He had chosen it after the divorce, Shigaraki most certainly wasn’t going to fly, especially since his protégé had gained some degree of infamy.

        Aizawa nodded, eyes narrowing, as he shook his head, “Aizawa Shota.”

        The cat café was a small, square building lined with blue wooden panels. The windows glowed with a warm orange light, and the smell of java floated through the air. The interior was just as quaint, Hisashi noted as he opened the door for the other, among the table and chairs were various cat towers and potted plants. Despite its humble appearance, the café was rather busy this evening, stuffed to the brim with overworked college students and romantic hopefuls. They ordered their drinks (Aizawa ordered a black coffee and Hisashi ordered an espresso with extra foam) and made their way to a small round table in the back corner. 

        “I just want you to know that I’m married and don’t want to pursue any sort of relationship,” Aizawa began, petting a small orange tabby that somehow already made its way onto his lap.

        Hisashi balked at that, but quickly composed himself, “So why are you on Tinder? I assume you don’t take random strangers on dates for the joy of it.”

        “I’m here because my students are villain catnip, and I want to make sure they don’t get maimed while they're out and about. Especially that one,” Aizawa gestured to a table across the room from them, “Problem child seems to attract the League of Villains everywhere he goes.”

        Hisashi followed Aizawa’s gaze to the table in question and felt himself pale when he saw a familiar mop of curly green hair, his son. He swallowed, trying to ignore the fact that his estranged kid was sitting only fifty feet away. “I can understand that, but why a cat café?” he asked.

        Aizawa shrugged, “They’re on a date, plus I like cats.”

        He had to do a double take, Izuku was with a boy that had dual toned hair. A date? Seriously? He hardly approved of his son doing such a thing at his young age. Part of him wanted to walk over and drag the teen from his table and out of the café. Instead of making his internal screams external, he smiled saccharinely, “It’s rather thoughtful of you to take time out of your busy schedule for your students, I’m sure it must be hard to juggle hero work and teaching.” And rather creepy. Who pestered and surveilled teenagers in their free time? Other than Hisashi of course, but he was the exception.

        Before Aizawa could give him a response, their drinks were set in front of them. The foam on Hisashi’s espresso had been poured in the shape of a smiling cat. He had the sudden, inexplicable urge to launch it at his date and run. Instead, he took a sip, grimacing slightly. Too much sweetener. They sat in an awkward silence, Aizawa didn’t seem like one to make conversation. Somehow the man had attracted more cats to his side.

        “So you said you were married?” Hisashi asked, probing for information.

        “Mhm, my husband’s name is Hizashi. He’s kind, if a bit much sometimes.” That was an understatement, Present Mic was one of the most obnoxious heroes in the public eye, right after All Might in Hisashi’s books. More awkward silence, and then:

        “So Hisashi, what is it exactly that you do for a living?”

        He blinked, “Oh, I’m a quirk analyst,” a lie, though quirk analysis was a pivotal part of his job, it had to be with his quirk, “I’ve just always found them interesting. It’s like how inventors feel about electronics, I just can’t help but want to pull them apart and see how they work.” Hisashi’s grin turned almost predatory at that, and Aizawa tensed. “The first quirk I ever analyzed was a neon quirk, the holder’s sweat glowed in the dark, they were like a walking, talking glow stick.”

        Hisashi rambled about quirks for a while (this was the first he’d spoken so much in a long time and the words seemed to gush out of him, like he had to pay some sort of deficit), and Aizawa eventually cut him off, amusement dancing in his dark eyes, “You know, you remind me of one of my students, he’s just as obsessed with quirks as you are.”

        He visibly perked up at that, “Really? It’s rare to find someone who shares my interest, most find it creepy.”

        The underground hero nodded, then glanced at the clock, “I should probably get going, my students have already left and I’m expected at the police precinct soon.”

        Hisashi nodded, reaching to take a sip of his espresso but finding it already drained, “This was fun, even if it didn’t go anywhere,” perhaps this night could be salvaged and still give him some sort of in, “Would you like to catch a drink again some time?”

        “No.”

-@~*^*~@-

        His next date was considerably more disastrous than the first. He had matched with a young woman named Iwata Setsuko. His date in question had admittedly plain features, was a single mother with three children, and looked chronically stressed. She had taken time off from her crammed schedule to have dinner with him at a small Italian restaurant. The restaurant was small, quiet, and made to resemble a courtyard in an Italian villa. At the moment, she sat across from him in the cramped restaurant, honey eyes nervously peering at him from a veil of straight mousy brown hair. Iwata worked as a nurse practitioner in a nearby hospital, and seemed impressed by his extensive medical knowledge. She presumed him to be a doctor of some sort, and while inaccurate he could become one easily with a few forged documents if this proved fruitful.

        Throughout the meal, she hardly spoke, leaving him to fill the silence with spun tales and falsehoods. He was telling her a particularly interesting anecdote about South Korea when she abruptly cut him off, “You’ve been lying to me all night.” Fuck.

        Hisashi tried to laugh it off, “Now what reason would I have to lie to you?”

        “My quirk allows me to read the vital signs of anyone close to me, I don’t know why you’d lie but I can tell you’re full of it.”

        His eyes widened, “That’s a rather interesting quirk you have, it’s certainly perfect for your field-”

        “Oh shove it, I know you’re deflecting,” She dismissed, a fire lit in her eyes that was previously absent.

        He felt something flutter in his chest, he liked a woman with spark, it’s why he’d married Inko after all, and he couldn’t help but think of all the possibilities and applications her quirk had, and how helpful it could be for his goals. So caught up in his fantasies of world domination, was he, that he ignored whatever was coming out of her mouth. It probably was as helpful as white noise, as most mundane people’s words were, “You’re one of the only ones whose ever seen right through me,” he said with a widening grin.

        “What?” She replied, confused.

        “You know, with you at my side, we could have everything you can dream of! Think of the possibilities as the world crumbles at our feet-!”

        He was cut off by Iwata, who was shoving breadsticks into her purse, “Look, it’s been fun but I have to go, my kids are waiting for me at home.”

        “Think about my offer, you have my number!” he shouted to her as she rushed out the door, he glanced down at her plate, “She didn’t even finish her meal either.”

        Iwata never got back to him, and All for One, dark lord of the criminal underground, was ghosted.

-@~*^*~@-

        After another series of failed dates, Hisashi was slumped over a bar as Kurogiri, the noumu he had broken out of Tartarus for this sole purpose, awkwardly patted him on the shoulder. “Uh there, there?” he said.

        Clearly, this online dating thing was not working, “I don’t even know why I try!” All for One proclaimed dejectedly, “Clearly the public cannot handle their awe of me.”

        If Kurogiri had a face beyond a pair of glowing yellow eyes, he would have winced, “Right, well, sir, if it’s my place to give you advice I’d like to do so.”

        Hisashi gestured vaguely with his hands, indicating that the sentient black mist should continue.

        “Why don’t you go back to what you had before, you were married were you not?” Kurogiri suggested, “Surely it can’t be that hard.”

        The supervillain lifted his head from the table, looking as if Kurogiri had just handed him the world, “You know what, you’re right, why don’t I re-enter their lives? They’re mine after all.” All for One stood up, a little drunk, “Kurogiri, if you had a mouth, I could kiss you.”

        “Please don’t, sir.”

        A few hours later, at some ungodly time in the night, Hisashi was standing outside of the Midoriya apartment, boom box perched on his shoulder, blasting romance music like he was in a shitty 90s romcom. He was oblivious to the lights that began to turn on in windows up and down the street. Using a quirk to artificially project his voice, he shouted, “Inko baby, take me back, I’ll be better I promise!”

        Soon he saw an uncharacteristically glaring, plump face in the window. Inko popped it open, slipper in hand, “Hisashi, I swear to god, if you don’t leave right now I’m calling the police, do you know what time it is?!”

        “Time doesn’t matter in the face of love,” he replied, “Inko I-” Hisashi was cut off as a slipper hit him square in the face.

A/N:  I hope this at least got you all to laugh, feel free to leave a comment! Happy holidays everyone, I should have the next chapter of Genesis posted on Monday.

AO3

[xanderwithanx]

Chloe does night-time diary posts on HER tumblr, so I'm going to start doing them here, sometimes. It would be nice if you read it, but, please, don't feel obligated! This is more for me to write.

(I got tired of my normal journal, I guess. It's full of bad poetry anyway. Besides, where's the thrill of losing anonymity in a physical notebook?)

I've basically been asleep and depressed for several days, because I had withdrawal after not being able to get my adhd meds. But, I got it today, and DID THINGS. (This is SO much better than before!)

Today, I went to a small café or restaurant (focused on tea) called Alice's Teacup that was Alice in Wonderland themed! My long-standing obsession with Alice in Wonderland knows no bounds. It was a really cute place. I got pumpkin pancakes, and some really good iced tea. Like... REALLY good iced tea.

Still, it seemed like the entire place was geared towards having a pot of tea and snacks with your friends, which left me a bit lonely. The person I asked couldn't come, and by the time I heard back, I was more than halfway there. Still, I read Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead and watched Monty Python on my phone, so I still had a good time!

I dressed pretty eccentricly and effeminately all day, but, with my facial hair, I was ALWAYS coded as a man, even by people on the street! Pastels, a stupid hat, a crop top, and facial hair was a winning combination.

On my way, I was stopped by some guys soliciting for charity. I don't make a habit of stopping for strangers on the streets of Manhattan. What if it's a scam? What if I'm being pressured to buy something? What if it's a strange political rant? But, I had already taken my earbuds off, I wasn't in a hurry, and I'm terminally polite. The first guy said he liked my energy, which seemed to come from a genuine place, because I liked his too!

They were asking for donations for a breast cancer charity, the United Breast Cancer Foundation. After a discussion, it seems like the charity helps pay medical debt, medical bills, and other practical needs, which is much better than *some* others I could name. I regretted not being able to give their minimum there, as it was pretty high, but told them I'd give what I could when I got on the website.

I... did not. Money is tight, because I'm bad and irresponsible with money, even though this is more than a worthy cause. I didn't NEED to go to that tea place, and I don't NEED to spend so much money on food. Sure, I can justify it: I wanted to go to that place for so long, and it was near the college anyway! But, if I was responsible with money, you KNOW my friends direct fundraising drives would go first, worthy charities second. Still, I feel bad about it.

Then, I went to the college library, to get books to start my thesis research. I have literally been unable to go to the college itself, aside from getting my ID, so this was great! There just wasn't a reason. It was... very empty. I went to the library stacks, which was deathly quiet and deeply haunted by the old books. I half expected something to pop out at me, as I turned the stacks, but I wasn't even paranoid or anxious. It was like I was in something else's house. I was welcome, but on thin ice.

I picked up an irrelevant psychology book on the "schizophrenia problem" from the 1930s, out of morbid fascination, and quickly put it down when it threatened to shatter in my hands.

Some students walked past (which was a suprise in those monastic basement library stacks), and I added something to their conversation, in a totally natural and casual way. But, omg the poor girls, I made them jump! Luckily, I'm the least threatening person on earth, and we laughed it off.

After a lot of hunting, I got 5 out of my 10 books (for the most part)! (The rest are, sadly, online. I like to read physical copies.) Strangely, I only came in with a list to get 3 books out of 6.

Most of the books I got are about art in the AIDS crisis, which is the core of my thesis, I think, all with different value. One about exhibitions, one about the larger narrative of those gay artists, and another contradicting the larger narrative.

I also got a book about "Art and Homosexuality". Just, the parallel construction of both "art" and "homosexuality" across cultures and times, from earliest history to the modern age. It wasn't on my initial list, but I'm really excited to read it.

Finally, I got a book called "The Thief, the Cross and the Wheel", about the pain and spectacle of punishment in Medieval and Renaissance European art. I'm mainly interested in Italian Renaissance art of the crucifixion--and its masochism--for the second quarter of my thesis.

The rest are online, and Should mostly focus on Bacchus in the Italian Renaissance (especially through art) and what I call the art of "gay liberation", concurrent with the AIDS crisis (i.e. The Cockettes). These two topics make up the last half of my thesis.

I'm SO excited to get started!!

I even got to cross the college's sky-bridges! (The college is a few skyscrapers.) Still, the loneliness and novelty were kind of the same thought. Imagine if I had been here before COVID, or, if COVID hadn't happened. Who would I have been able to meet? What would the college buildings mean to me? Because, for now, they're just buildings. But, I got to see the street from above, and that was amazing!

Just walking through New York--the Upper East Side--on a cool, sunny day was beautiful. It takes 20-30 minutes to get from my place to the college (and the tea place), but it was great being able to listen to my music (a lot of They Might Be Giants on the playlist today) and see the city. You know, people, super cool old architecture being pushed out by terrible new architecture, and pigeons.

Oh my god, the pigeons. I took pictures, but none of them are good. I kept thinking about how pigeons and doves are functionally the same. We domesticated pigeons, which is why they're here, and no one is stopping to notice them? Even the ones that were splotched with pure white, like doves? There's only so many pigeons you can take until they're just white noise and a nuisance, I know, so don't think I'm blaming anyone! But it's so hard to look away from these quirky little birds.

Also, at one point my walk, I was vaping very strategicly. The mental task of searching through library stacks will do that to you, when you already have an addiction to nicotine. I made sure no one was around, and no one would be affected. I stopped on a corner next to an old, ornate Catholic church while the traffic light changed, and I almost juuled right next to a priest! I'm glad I stopped. I don't believe in Hell, but, I would have walked down there myself had I vaped at a priest. Still, the church advertised itself as LGBT+ friendly, so maybe they aren't so trigger happy on the damnation. Either way, I DIDN'T vape at a priest today, which is good.

Once I got back, I spent a few hours watching things with my amazing girlfriend Chloe, who you may know here as @cisphobiccommunistopinions. She is so beautiful, and I love her more every day, every time I see her. God, it's almost been 5 years!

I just wish I could spend more time with her. She's in Virginia, and I'm in New York. Like she said to me earlier, I'm flighty at the best of times, and, with my lack of object permanence for the digital world, I find myself not giving her the attention I deserve, or, the full connection I long to have with her. We used to live together. Luckily, someday we will live together again! All these problems won't be forever, and we can live together again.

We watched a lot of things, but we're pretty deep into Serial Experiments Lain right now. It's a postmodern anime from the 90s, and, wow, do I have no idea what's going on in it. It's about the internet, and potentially schizophrenia as well. However, I'm obsessed! One day I'll be able to crack this artistic code, and it's unreality, thematic knots, and double-meanings. I will probably understand it better on the second watch. I don't see myself in Lain, but I see my 14 year old self in her, when I had just developed schizophrenia. Her cyberpunk fate seems like it's railroaded towards tragedy, but I want to save her, even if it's silly and irrational.

I told Chloe that I was scared about spilling apple cider on my library books, and she referred to it as "The Great Apple Juice Disaster of September 11, 2021." To which I said that it was the second worst thing to happen in New York on that date. It was funnier if you were there, and also were in my brain at the time.

Anyway, tomorrow I'm meeting some online acquaintances from the college's "Queer Srudent Union" at a Japanese Culture Fair in a park. (I do not know which park.) It emphasizes "fun"! I don't know them very well, but they're friends with the one person I know irl, so it should be good.

Tomorrow night, I should Probably head downtown to check out a gallery show by MFA (masters of fine arts) students at Hunter! After all, I was in a group project with one of them, and they're absolutely brilliant. I missed the Thursday gallery opening by a landslide, because of the aforementioned lack of adhd meds and Being Asleep, which I infinitely regret. I could have listened to all the artists and curators talk about their art and exhibition! Maybe I could have even talked with the artists and curators. But, it's best for me to go sooner, rather than later, so I don't forget. And, I REALLY want to go.

It's "This dialogue which happened to be present in all other dialogues" at the Alyssa Davis Gallery. From the email I got, "Each of these works observes a threshold of transition. [...] [These] intimations [are] of a frame of mind shared by the artists. These works perform, record, access, engage, document, and entrap, embalming the viewer within the gallery space."

sgp is a really good artist, by the way. Their work is just next-level. Be sure to check out their art, if you have a chance. Let me link their portfolio: https://saragracepowell.com/

(I highly suspect spg and the other member of my group project ghosted me afterwards, but I understand. I was really in over my head. Still, they're both really sweet and kind people, don't get it twisted!)

I ALSO really want to see The Cake Boys. They're performing at the 3 Dollar Bill in Brooklyn on September 26th. (It's only $15!) They're the only all drag king collective in NYC! (Are... there any Other all drag king collectives out there?) Other than the fact that a lot of them are trans or nonbinary, which I love, this show is a totally non-judgmental competition for over 40 drag kings! I've heard their shows are hilarious and unique.

I just have to wait until I have $15 to spare. I... didn't eat dinner tonight, because I'm irresponsible with my money and don't want to ask my parents for money... again. Don't worry, it's literally fine, and I don't make a habit of doing this!

Which reminds me! For my birthday, my parents gave me a gift card to Lush! I'm definitely going to Lush tomorrow, which will be great. I would describe my personality as "Lush store employee acosting you about a bath bomb demonstration", so I'll fit right in.

I also made a transition timeline, to show how much I've changed on testosterone. For the better, I hope! I really believe I'm becoming, if not Have Become, the man I was always meant to be. It's so strange to look back at who I was not too long ago, and to know the absolute pain I was in. It's also strange, in a good way, to see the man looking back at me in the selfies. I'm so much happier now! Much more candid in my pictures, at least. But, I know that I'm so much more comfortable as myself than I was even 6 months ago. It's strange. Sometimes I think to myself, "I don't pass yet; I'm not who I Need To Be yet." Then, I look at my selfie from today, and... I'm THERE. My mind just hasn't caught up with my amazing, natural, normal reality.

The end. I have to get ready for bed, (even though I could be partying on a Saturday night in the city. I'm lame.) If you actually read this, I am kissing you on the mouth right now. I hope it made you calm down tonight, like a terrible bedtime story. If you didn't read it and just skipped to the end, don't worry: you did the rational thing.

[nathangranofsky]

listen me read Dear Everybody 01 by love nathan

Dear Everybody, It’s been quite some time since we last spoke. I've missed you. Every single body in you. So much. So long. Come back to me. I miss you. Imma swirling and a twirling in a whirlwind of longing for our correspondence, and you had no idea. Did you? You were completely in the dark as to the fact that up until this moment right now, I chose to keep myself from speaking to you. I've remained silent when the fact is all i've wished to do is do the opposite of that. Me wanna speak to you, baby. Within all that was the speechless all i wanted was to be loud at you, boo. That's a fact. And here comes the why -- a why that is firmly mounted to the butt end of that fact. I no no speak at you when i wanna wanna why? Cuz you are the butt end of that fact. Traveling by the pulse of a silenced throat, me, a hushed vessel of vocals, rafting down a tube of possible conversation, paddling backwards towards the other hole of the tube. The hole I didn't enter into the tube thru. Which is, obviously, the butt of the tube. No. I've been paddling backwards AWAY from the end of the tube opposite from where I where i entered the tube because you are at the end of the tube and the end of the tube that isn't the end I entered thru is the butt of is the butt end. Because that's what you call the bottom of a tube. Right? That's what I call the bottom end of a tube. If no one but me calls one end of the tube the mouth and the other the butt, where did I get that from? I mean I could've easily made it up, but I think mouth and butt are good names for either end of any hypothetical tube. See, if I where to attach a tube to a wall, just a normal tube...no. i guess i don't really need to attach it to a wall, i don't want to confuse you unnecessarily, a wall would have no relevance in this scenario. the only reason the tube in this example would be up against a wall is because i want the tube to be standing like a person and i guess to make the tube a person that person is standing up against a wall to be measured for their height. that's why the tube person is standing up against the wall i guess. to see how much they've grown in a year or so. i guess only kids really do that kind of thing. so this person would be a kid. Or a teen or a highschooler or freshmen in college. this is why i said there isn't a wall. imagining a tube being a person who is a kid who is being measured for their height is too confusing. so no wall. instead, imagine you're holding a pvc pipe in your hand, say it has a diameter of five inches and it's two feet long or whatever. The length doesn't really matter it just has to be long enough for a marble to drop into n roll for a half a second or two which would be a whole second. If you drop a marble in the tube you are holding it will roll for a second. Of course, it doesn't have to be a marble. it could be something smaller or bigger than a marble. It could be a rock. A rock n roll. ahe. As long as whatever you throw into the tube can fit easily thru a five inch wide space without any shoving or shaking or anything. Just hold onto the tube, and drop something thru it. And just to be clear -- obviously I'm talking vertical. Hold the tube vertically. Then drop your bouncy ball or lego man head or rock or whatever fits in there, thru the top of the tube, so it goes down from the top and out the bottom. Again to be more clearer, the five inch diameter holds no relevance either. The tube could be 3in around or 5in around or 10in around just as long as it can be grasped in one hand because you or whoever is dropping the donut-hole or walnut thru the tube has to have another hand free to drop said item into the tube. The item also doesnt mean any thing i just thought a little action would make my tube idea pop a little. You know pizzazzz it up but now i realize all i needed was a tube of any fixed size standing vertical. Well, floating. the tube has to be floating so that both ends remain open. so, in an empty space there is a tube floating vertically. This levitation very much also holds no meaning it's just a lot easier to just use the tube surrounded by nothing with no one holding it. No one is around so there's no confusion because who needs more confusion in their life in times like these. There's a tube, standing vertical in a void. you could put something in it but you don't have to. you aren't around the tube. the tube is there. all by itself being all vertical and you are just lookin at it. There is a tube, and while you don't have a body because you having a body looking at the tube would further confuse what i'm desperately trying to invent in order to express that which is difficult to express i would think without visual aid, while you may not have a body, if you were to put skin and muscles around the tube, that thing would kinda look like a human body. and the tube part would become like the tube part of the body which is the digestive system. That's why the tube I'm backpaddling inside of, in my example of why I haven't been talking to you, the top end of that tube, as it should be for all other tubes because all tubes if you attached organs and skin to them are almost exactly like where the food need go in a human body, the tube within bodskin is like the bod's digestive system so i call the entrance opening of all tubes a mouth, and the bottom opening the butt. and as I mentioned way way way up there, there is something within my imaginary tube, and that something is my desire to speak to you. This desire started in the mouth of the tube, a tube which is.. what did I say? Two feet long? well, now that youwa're imagining the tube as a human with a digestive system, i must admit, a two foot digestive system is much shorter than a normal digestive system. Yes. Much shorter. Two feet is very much an abnormal length for a digestive system. But as this explanation has shown itself to be much stranger and longer than i anticipated, im keeping the tube two feet in length, even tho a person with a two foot digestive system is really just a throat. And while this entire thing is about me wishing to speak to you and relating to myself as just a head with a throat would be a very nice tie-in, i need to make it all the way down to the butt. And a two foot drop from mouth to butt is a short trip and i think that i and you deserve one of those at this point. whew. That was like the shortcuts my dad would take driving me home as a kid, they were not. I have to come clean, the length of the tube also holds no meaning. but two foot it be. Two foot tube. Yes, there is a tube hanging vertical in an infinitely open space that is two feet in length. Now, convert those feet into years. I don't know exactly what the conversion rate of feet to years is. Right now i'm inside the tube right up above the butt of the tube, and i entered the tube of not talking to you by way of the tube's mouth years ago so...two feet equals...what has it been since we've talked...ten years? No. Longer. Hold on. My tube is getting all hamstered. huuuhfff. any mathematical yous might get frustrated by this but i'm going to skip over the conversion for now. Oh, wait! The length of the tube is irrelevant. i keep backtracking by forgetting the rules of the tube. Very much like the way i'm backpaddling away from the butt end of a possibly two foot tube i entered over a decade ago. the tube is supposed to be the size of the human digestive system, so while the length is irrelevant it has to be kinda small. Don't wanna climb into a giant throat. The tube isn't any fixed length but it is kinda like the size of your or your mom or dad's throat. that being said: i am not a person that shrunk down to armyman size to be in this throat tube. It's a metaphor. No. Hold on, gotta go look up the definition of metaphor. Ok im back. Yes, it's a metaphor. The tube isnt a real tube i entered due to being honey i shrunk the kidsed. The tube is a metaphor for desire. Desire that is within me. So, the tube is desire. And that little metaphorical me, not Indian in the cupboard shrunkin me, is filled with the same desire my tube represents. So, henceforth, the metaphor stands that the tube is my desire and my desire is within me within my tube. But who am i? If the little me has my desire within, hhhhuuuuuuwhhhh who am i? who be that little me? i think it to be much easier if the tiny me inside the tube of desire wasn't a little me, but a representation of my desire's ebbing and flowing, its growing and shrinking thru time. now, im that's in the tube is not shrinking and growing. i would get stuck in the tube, and obviously i've been passing quite easily thru the tube of desire. The years keep rolling on. Rowing on one might say. So the rowing is actually the ebbing and flowing and growing and shrinking. I just realized this whole time I've been imagining water flowing thru the tube and myself sitting in a tiny wooden fishing vessel. i never disclosed this info, did i? I know that i just threw another curve into the supposedly straight tube of desire, but i think this actualuh lly helps. The me in the tube is an easily relatableble representation of the desire that the tube represents. So me in the tube of desire is also desire. I suppose this means the me in the tube is also a tube. If a tube is desire and I'm desire then I'm a tube. I am a tube. A cute little tube. Don't worry! You can still think of this smaller tube of desire as a human because of what we discussed earlier. If ya put muscles and skin on a tube, it looks almost exactly like a human. So imagine the tube of desire is just a tube, or a tunnel. A tunnel of desire. That is way better imagery, but i've gotten so used to a tube being desire i'm sticking with tube. Imagine the tube of desire looking just like a tube and the desire within the tube as a tube that looks like me on a boat with paddles coursing down a water way, aka the unstoppable stream of time. The boat and the paddles aint actual boat with paddles. This is another metaphor. Which is my desire to control where my desire ends up over a certain amount of time. So, it being the desire of my desire of my desire, the boat must also be a tewwb. If this makes it easier, just pretend the boat is in fact a tube but a tube that was a wooden tube that was chopped down like a tree and built into a boat. The hope to control where my desire ends up, is hopeless. I knew this right after entering the tube. It had to end up that i eventually spoke to you again, the desire to do so was too strong. too good of a tube. a tube well built. a tube's tube. and my desire to not fulfill that desire within a tube of desire is much too weak to last more than however long it's been since we last talked to each other. Now, one might ask: if all the tubes thus far in this metaphor have been desire tubes, are all tubes everywhere in the world of this metaphor tubes of desire? or are there different tubes representing all possible emotions? a tube of frustration, a tube of disappointment, the horny tube. i know youre assuming, me bringing up horny tube is a gag of some sort, a tube of jest uncalled for, everybody knows what a horny tube is why would i mention that tube of all the other emotions as tubes i couldve possibly mentioned? but remember, this is only a metaphor and there is no guarantee that if you made an effort and put muscles and skin on the horny tube? There's like only a seventy percent it would look anything at all like a penis. as to not continually muddle this thang unduly, uh hereby declair all tubes to be desire. And desire, radiates from the heart. So I'm a tube in a tube on a tube in my actual heart. And when my hearts tubed desire started at the mouth of the metaphorical tube of desire ,not necessarily two feet long in length, it wasn't that strong because it was years ago and years ago which is a pretty long time ago because I'm positive the conversion rate of feet to years is very much like converting human years into dog years. It has to be cuz we haven't uhspoke since a long way back up the tube. I just realized paddling thru a tube doesn't really work when the tube is vertical. slant the tube a little, rotate it counterclockwise just enough to give it an incline. I want my desire to roll like rapids, not dump like a waterfall. Onward. Now, imagine it is years ago and i had just spoken to you. because said speaking was accomplished just before this metaphor began, I didn't really have any desire to speak to you that much, which is understandable because desire is a tube and i wasn't in the tube yet. i didnt know i was about to enter and be surrounded by an entire tube of desire. As my want for words with you manifested as a metaphorical tube on a tube within a tube in my heart, the result was the real me and my heart sliding down into the depths of that tube and away from the mouth of that tube uhhh deeuhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh like jello. Jello which is the real me engulfed by my desire traveling via desire on desire thru the engulfing desire inside my heart inside of me -- because this metaphor is coming from me which means it is my real desire radiating within and out from me. But it's hard to visualize desire radiation. And while it may be invisible, the radiation of desire is all too real. So as makes since, that real desire requires a relatable visual representation in addition to the imagery of the tube on a tube in a tube of desire over time. in order to connect these two expressions, the metaphorical and the real, i've decided to take the real me and my radiating desire and turn them into something that could, if so desired, easily fit into a tube. And that something is jello. Thus is born the jello me. And all the jello me wants? is to be in the mouth. that's where all the taste is. And taste is you and i speaking. jello may at first glance seem like a soulless inanimate gooshnotquitesolidliquidstuff, but when me be jello, I'm jello with a brain. Now, jellos predisposition toward jiggling and the continual jiggling required to travel from one end of a decades long tube to the other would most definitely cause permanent damage to the brain of jello me. so getting down the tube means a lot of sliding. Can jello slide without jiggling? I don't think it can. There can't be any jiggling for the sake of my physical wellbeing. Maybe it could stretch. but if you think about if you think about it, if you try to stretch jello it doesn't. Just breaks. and the point the point of all this is that i am real and jello. the real me. as jello. i can't be jiggled i can't be broken because that would eventually kill me. I'd be dead right now. I've been jello in a tube of undisclosed and possibly great length for over a decade, and there's no way i'm surviving if imma stretchin and a slidin. So the only way for jello me to get thru a tube and technically remain jello would be for the jello to melt back into its liquid form. but that means i'm becoming thinner and thinner as i traverse the tube. The real me has to remain separate from the metaphorical me, and i could totally see jello me becoming so thin it coats the interior of the tube like a stain. like a green stain. A green stain you could coat your deck with. update i imagine the jello me as green jello. lime jello. my favorite flayvor of jello and at the point lime jello me is so thin i'm just a stain, there really is no way to tell the real me from the real me's radiating desire from the metaphorical me and metaphorical me's desire. So, once again i'm a tube, with the inside of the tube now stained green. But, in the real reality I'm a jello of desire that needs to be set apart from the tube of desire. but if it must be such that real me need thin to the point of being nothing more than a green stain so that i may pass thru the tube without jiggling myself into oblivion, melting the jelloed me in a tube means the tube would have to be hot. and that makes total sense. desire can be pretty hot. My best desire has always been my hottest desire. So now we have a separation between the tube and the jello. Hot desire. The tube is hot, the jello is not, not a first. The jelloed jello me enters the tube and i start to become hot and melt and travel faster and faster down the tube of desire wishing i was jello again. and then i reach the butt. I'm completely liquified by the time i reach the butt. Which is what need happen in order for me to reach the butt where i am now in in present time in real me time with the tubes and the jello and the raaaaaayyydeeeeeeateing, liquid jello me need haaaaaappen but also not what need. i'm in a tube that is almost totally vertical, and there's really no good way ferfer my liquid jello me to keep itself from hitting that butt without shoving something into the butt and this thing is overly complicated already and has really got away from me. I cant shove anything into the butt. I would like to, to stop my liquid from spewing forth from the butt before it is appropriate for it to do so. it has to. my liquid must spew. because here i am and theres my dog. and in the metaphor i'm inside the tube at the butt end because i'm trying to plug it to keep me in there. but right now i have to be outside the tube the tube is desire so since me talking to you with no talkie to you was the desire whence the tube was formed and I am speaking at cha sweetie now that means i can't be inside the tube anymore because the desire is gone because the desire existed as a tube when i wasn't talking to you sweetie. but Currently, in the metaphor whatever of me is in the tube has yet to excrete from the tube. And it shouldn't yet. Because this metaphor climaxes with a battle scene between myself and my desire. Layers of psychological battering and introspection. Colors and lights and explosions. Am i fighting that which plugs the buttway? Probably. Probably. Probably. probably. probably probably probahbly. Praahhhbably. probabbubly. prPRObably.PRObably. Prooobably. probubly. prbly. I just don't have the energy to figure out what i'm going to shove in the butt and how far it's going into the butt or how hot the thing that is to be shoved is. n there's the icemaker. I could use a drink. hfffffm. I think the best thing to do is to start over and keep it simple. I'm starting over. That's really my only option. Dear Everybody, I'm a tube and you're the butt end of the tube. No. My FEELINGS are a tube, and you're the butt end of my feelings. No. My feelings are INSIDE a tube and that tube ends with butt. Hmm. Some tubes have an opening at both ends but my feelings my feelings are in a tube and you are where my feelings have to get to to be fulfilled. Oh my god. Dear Everybody, I like you but you can be a real butt sometimes. I appreciate you, but you really are a butt. Very often you'd rather be a butt than not a butt. I need to talk to you. I need to talk to someones. I need to tell someones what is happening in my head. I am not a tube. I need to share my ideas. I need to eject my mind from my skull. I need to put it out there. I want to spill my ideas. I've just kept them bottled up, letting them out in little bursts of song, because I write songs and do tubes write songs? Sure you can bang on a tube to write beats but an actual song? A tube? Writing a song? I am not a tube. Writing songs can take too long so that's why I'm just...writing. uhcourse getting thru all this tube stuff has taken so long I coulda written a whole lotta song. And a tube can't write a little song much less a lot uh song. I'm not a tube I'm not a tube, no no I'm not a tube. Holy rigatoni, this is goinggoingoin to go on forever isn't it, me? Nip it! Nip it in the bud! Get to it, me. Stop stalling, me. Get em idears out there, me! Gotta go. There is more to say. I didn't say what i wanted to say, and beca....i was on a rollhh. I didn't say what i wanted to say and because me not saying what i wanted to say was not said for so long, there's probably a whole lot more to say. And because i want to say what i want to say and have yet to say it...i'll be saying it. At some point in the futuretimes. Maybe, maybe in like two weeks. I didn't succeed today to say what needs saying but I will, and it will. What I'm trying to say is imma keep saying until what i want to say is said. There will be a lot of whatever this whole thing was along the way to saying what I want to say. I am sad to say there will be more tewbz. I'm absolutely sure of it. And the new tubes probably won't look like tubes, they will be disguised as something else. Like a baseball glove. Tubes and gloves were and will be an attempt to say what i want to say in a way that probabubbly shouldn't have been or should ever be said. I'm not going to apologize for trying but I'm sorry. Love, Nathan @lovethisnathan

[mzminola]

Reaction Post Two: Ectoplasmic Boogaloo

Misc thoughts now that I’ve both seen the show, and had time to think.*

Kinda feel like I missed an episode or two? I could swear there’s screenshots going around that I never saw in context, and collective knowledge that’re so consistent I could swear I missed something...but that might just be the result of a ten year old active fandom. Is it ever stated how long Vlad was in the hospital with ecto-acne? Or is “five years” just a really popular fanon?

I see why so many people call for a reboot; there’s a lot of neat stuff in the show, but due to the cancellation a bunch of threads got dropped or warped out of recognition. Almost a “rough draft” sort of vibe.

One of the major problems with S3 (starting with the S2 finale, actually) is that they tried to go Bigger! Moar Extreme!! Higher Stakes!!! But worldwide disasters weren’t what the show as about. The pacing in Urban Jungle was terrible (plants taking over should be a slow, creepy story, not a five second greensplosion), Vortex was way to overpowered, and Phantom Planet really only makes sense as someone’s dream. Like. All of Amity Park got dragged into an alternate dimension in Reign Storm, because the Ghost King Dark Pariah was supposed to be a big deal. Leave that as a biggest disaster.

“Million Dollar Ghost” was an adorable episode. Danny trying to cheer Jack back up was painfully sweet and dorky.

The two episodes with Danielle are, together, or separately, the most actually horrifying episodes. Melting clones, who look scared as they go. Seriously. And if you strip the supernatural/sci-fi elements from the summary, the first episode from Danny’s perspective would be “parents’ old friend kidnaps you for nonconsensual reproductive reasons, and then tries to kill you and your baby sister in a fit of rage.” No wonder he’s exuberant when Sam & Tucker save them.

Meanwhile, Maternal Instincts from Maddie’s perspective is also terrifying; lost in the wilderness with your child, the only hope for communication or travel to the outside world is in the house of a man you barely know anymore, who yelled “NO ONE SAYS NO TO ME!” when you refused to leave your husband for him.

Speaking of Maternal Instincts, I think it shows Danny didn’t get all his forgetfulness from Jack; Maddie’s so laser focused on finding a phone that she’s disregarding the vehicles.

(and Maddie, you’re sad that Danny isn’t spending as much time with you as when he was a tiny child, but when he hugged you and said “I love you Mom!”, after your smile and “I love you too,” you physically dislodged him and singsonged “clingy!” Really? I get being uncomfortable with physical contact, but calling your kid clingy for hugging you in one of the few calm moments of a crisis is...kinda mean, Maddie)

~

Thought on Living Large: Danny's not “letting money go to his head and being an asshole”, Danny’s fucking depressed. We’ve seen Danny get a big ego and turn into a  jerk; example, every episode where he gets temporary popularity (invited to Dash’s party thanks to Jazz, dating Paulina, judging the beauty contest). Thanks to Val’s arc, we know one of the things affecting popularity at Casper High is family wealth. If Danny was being a jerk thanks to money he’d be at school, flaunting it. He’s not. He’s not even attending school, he’s barely leaving his room, and he’s irritable. The kid’s depressed.

It makes sense; he just underwent a major life change that he had no control over in a few days, and lost nearly all contact with his family. (I think his parents are out of character selling Fenton Works for any amount of money, but that’s a sidenote). Danny lost his home. He’s in a strange house, his parents’ neglect thanks to their ghost-hunting obsession is no longer mitigated by a small house where they have to interact regularly, and Jazz is hiding in the library. Major upheaval followed by isolation in a strange place. Poor fucking kid.

~

I disagree that “Vlad wants to rule the world” came out of nowhere, but I agree season 3 bungled him terribly. Forget “Phantom Planet”, it’s “Infinite Realms” that’s the worst piece of characterization for him. “take me to my destiny” what the heck,Vlad, that’s so vague. Where’d the Vlad we saw in Reign Storm go?

Vlad (in S1 & S2) makes the most sense if I assume he has long-term goals unrelated to the Fentons. Like he wants revenge on Jack and to ‘win’ Maddie, but honestly he’s had twenty fucking  years for that, it’s like the college reunion came up on his calendar and he want “oh, nice opportunity”. (though Jack’s firm belief in ghosts despite never seeing one until ep1 makes sense if we assume Vlad’s been periodically sending things like the vultures to mess with him invisibly...)

When I first watched Bitter Reunions, I was struck by how badly Vlad handled Danny. In retrospect, it’s even more startling considering how well he manipulated Val. So I thought, why? Well, with Val, Vlad is exploiting her negative emotions towards Phantom and other ghosts. Whereas with Danny, Vlad seems almost incapable of understanding that Danny likes his dad, and in Maternal Instincts he’s likewise confused by Maddie’s loyalty to her husband. Maybe its just that his own view of Jack blinds him to other’s perspectives, but he’s also surprised that Jack defeats him in Million Dollar Ghost. Jack was aided by love and protective feelings for his family, positive emotions. I don’t really think “Vlad has trouble understanding positive emotions in others” is a solid explanation, but it’s a start.

Alsooooooooo, re: Bitter Reunions and most of his other interaction with Danny: Vlad's making Skulker work for him, the vultures (despite being almost 2000 years older than him) do as he says, and we see him regularly searching the Ghost Realm for artifacts and getting into fights.

I think Vlad has spend ten to twenty years (whenever his ghost powers really got going) beating up other ghosts to get what he wants. “No one says no to me!” “Must I beat you with one hand behind my back before you admit you’re outmatched?”

He’s used to manipulating humans, but he saw Danny first and foremost as “ghost kid”, and so tries the same tactics he’s used on all the other ghosts; hit them until they do what you want. This...doesn’t work, with Danny. Sure, Vlad outpowers him, but the kid has a support network, and he thinks on his feet (making a shield bubble after seeing Vlad’s square flat shield? threatening to out both of them? The kid forgets about his own powers half the time, but adapts quickly, which is one of the big reasons hes lasted so long in the hero biz)

~

Danny never came out to his parents (excepting Phantom Planet) because as long as they didn’t know, he could keep believing they’d accept him no matter what. Schrodinger’s Parental Acceptance.

I think that’s all my post-series thoughts for now.

~

*I apparently wrote this post months or years ago and never posted it, though I did post the segment about depression on it’s own at some point?

[its-love-u-asshole]

Stars and Stitches [fic]

Pairings: Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei

Summary: Kei has never been crazy about going out on Valentine's Day, and he and his boyfriend know how dangerous it can be on top of that. Instead, he'd much rather stay in for his celebrations, and he's glad Tetsurou is now on the same page. 

Rating: T

Warnings: mild swearing, some making out bc you know the drill

Note: Hello! I made it in time for Valentine’s Day lol. This is my gift for @momomirasaki124​ for the @hqvalentineexchange​ <3 I tried to incorporate most of your prompts, so I really hope you enjoy ; ; Big thanks to @emeraldwaves​ for reading this over! 

AO3

The sounds someone should hear in the morning are easy enough to guess...

The muffled sounds of traffic, a few birds chirping, and maybe some dulled footsteps from the sidewalk just outside. All of it together marks the beginning of a new, work filled day, which Kei would rather not think about.

Today is different at least.

What Kei hears is different too, and the sounds automatically make his mornings better than most people's. His alarm has become the distinct crack of Tetsurou's back as he stretches to get up.

It happens so often, Kei can now expect it, count on it. If a morning comes without the three little pops of Tetsurou's spine, then can it really be a new day? Not in his book.

He's happy they've reached the age where Tetsurou has stopped going on business trips so much. Mornings are way less dread filled these days.

"Ah fuckin shit," Tetsurou curses, one of the only few times Kei gets to hear him curse, because the other is far too much of a goody goody for that. Kei cherishes it.

It's a constant now. Like Kei spilling sauce on his shirt at dinner, or Tetsurou stubbing his toe at the end of the bed. Routines are hard to break.

He snorts as Tetsurou touches his lower back out of shock, as if this doesn't happen every damn day.

And, like clockwork, Kei delivers his line: "Quit whining old man."

It's his favorite, because Tetsurou is far from old in his book, and looks about ten years younger than he is. It's unfair. But while Kei may look like an older man, Tetsurou is the one who's beginning to complain like one.

"I don't know if we should order that, it looks sort of spicy doesn't it?"

"Kei, that's way past our bedtime."

"Can you believe the neighbors let their yard look like that?"

And fuck it, Kei laughs harder, especially when Tetsurou finally looks at him.

Tetsurou turns to him, eyes beady from sleep, his brain still working out how to distinguish shapes instead of blobs. Not like he needs much cognitive power to deal with his little shit of a husband, which he'll probably realize in .2 seconds. The raven's hair is as much a mess as it ever was, except now some of the hairs are more of a dull gray than a sleek black. Doesn't really bug Kei much. He still pulls on it, whether they're having sex or when Tetsurou clogs up the DVR with sci-fi movies.

Tetsurou complains about how he's probably going to go bald at sixty because of Kei. Kei pulls harder.

Wigs are a thing.

They have their little staring contest for another few seconds before Kei regrets his decisions. In response to his smug little grin, Tetsurou unleashes a new tactic, one Kei simply cannot overcome.

Tetsurou farts.

Yup like a twelve-year old.

It's loud too, and Kei's not about to stick around for the smell. They'd had a big dinner the night before.

What a fool he'd been.

Tetsurou just lets one rip right into their newly washed bedspread and Kei may not be a big athlete anymore, but the speed at which he jumps out of bed is unrivaled. His knees buckle because Kei never stopped being a baby giraffe in some sense, and he topples over, his brain not awake enough to communicate to his legs that uh hey, you guys can walk you know?

"I want a divorce," Kei mutters, staying on the floor because why not? It's fun down here.

Tetsurou gasps, leaning over the bed cautiously so that his face is peeking down at Kei. The image is almost cute enough for Kei to forgive him. Almost. "On Valentine's Day? That's a bit cruel isn't it babe?"

Kei throws a pillow at him, and since they're not above this kind of retributive justice, a war ensues. Kei always insists on having a shitload of pillows on their bed, though half of them end up on the floor and Tetsurou ends up only using two, but it's for the aesthetic™ okay?

Also, Kei likes having a good supply of weaponry. Some of these are back support pillows. They can kill, and he knows it.

The fun ends when Tetsurou stubs his toe on the edge of the bed again, and Kei doesn't care about counting it as a cease fire. He fuckin' won, bitch.

Tetsurou ends up running ten minutes behind because Kei has to break out the first-aid kit and make sure he didn't break something, and then he's scrambling to get ready, avoiding the bed at all costs.

Meanwhile, Kei plops himself down on their couch and listens to Tetsurou drop nearly every bottle in their bathroom. He clicks on the television, sipping his coffee leisurely and humming because Tetsurou finally remembered to buy his preferred brand from the store.

He hears Tetsurou curse from the kitchen this time, and yeah, that...that was a mug he'd just heard.

Yeah, working from home is a blessing. He'd clean the shards up later.

Kei has more pressing issues at the moment, like the fact Tetsurou fucking clogged up the DVR again.

Defiantly, Kei erases one, but just one. If something seems amiss, then Tetsurou will come for his cooking shows and he cannot miss who goes home this week. They're three episodes away from the finale, it's a crucial time.

He changes the channel to some stereotypical romance flick just to provide background noise, and remembers what Tetsurou had said earlier.

Valentine's Day.

It's not like Kei had forgotten, how could he? It's like the holiday threw up on anything within an infinite mile radius. Pink hearts, red streamers, cute cards and flower bouquets littered every grocery store he passed. There were ads on T.V. too, not to mention the influx of romance films and the public displays of affection he'd been forced to witness on the street ever since February 1st.

Yeah, so it's Valentine's Day. What a shock.

Kei hardly hates the holiday though, and not just for the candy clearance sale the day after.

A few seconds later, Kei is broken from his thoughts by a wet, sloppy kiss hitting his cheek, and he's not proud of it, but he yelps. Tetsurou is smirking at him, and screw it, Kei's revenge meter is all out of juice for now. He leans forward, catching Tetsurou's lips greedily.

He can feel the wetness on his cheek still, and he wipes it off, making Tetsurou laugh against his mouth. Asshole.

But Kei's smiling like an idiot.

Kei's breath still stinks too, he's almost positive, so that's payback enough.

Not like it ever matters.

Soon enough Tetsurou is wetting Kei's dry lips with his tongue, and the innocent kiss develops the potential to get too steamy too fast.

The last thing they need is Tetsurou's office knowing his husband gave him a boner first thing in the morning.

Or maybe they do.

Fuck 'em.

Kei clumsily sets his coffee down on the table, knowing a few drops sloshed out onto the sides but not really caring about the stickiness as he moves into Tetsurou's lap. Large, rough hands take their reserved place on his hips, rubbing circles in the exposed skin lazily. Kei moans, letting his tongue tangle with his husband's, and just because he can't help it, he tugs on his black strands, messaging Tetsurou's scalp.

From the way Tetsurou groans at the treatment, they know it's too much for a goodbye kiss. At least on a work day.

"Save it for tonight stardust," Tetsurou practically purrs, and Kei's so used to the nickname by now he overlooks it altogether. He does plan to save it for tonight actually.

"Don't be too tired when you get home then," Kei whispers, delivering one last peck to Tetsurou's lips before he climbs off of him. Tetsurou is at least twenty minutes late now.

"How dare you, since when do I get tired?" Tetsurou says, getting up to stretch lazily. It's not really a question they have to answer, not when they'd recently started knocking out before eleven. Their college selves would be ashamed.

Kei leans back, admiring shamelessly as Tetsurou fixes his tie. He's allowed okay? Fifteen years gives him permission to do mostly anything. Tetsurou's not as cut and carved as he used to be, but he's still the envy of all their neighbors, not to mention eye candy for plenty of them.

Tetsurou's the ultimate image of someone who aged well and looked happy doing so, walking out of the house in his slacks and button up like he didn't realize how admired he was. Kei's sure he does though, he just doesn't really care unless Kei's the one doing the admiring.

Yup, that's right. Kei married the neighborhood hottie, his mom would be so proud.

Tetsurou preens from the attention Kei gives him, leaning down lift Kei's chin and give it an affectionate squeeze. "Take out for dinner?"

Kei snorts. Duh. "It's Valentine's Day, isn't it?"

Tetsurou grins, and already, Kei can't wait for him to come home.

Their Valentine's Day traditions have changed throughout the years, but the holiday refuses to let go of at least some of its spark. When they were in college, they'd actually gone out, fighting for reservations at nice restaurants, going to new movies, or sometimes even doing the stupidest things imaginable...

Now though, Kei's patience for the crowds and the stress was even more thin, and his expectations for a romantic night out were simpler, more private.

Basically, Valentine's Day had become one of the few nights of the year where they elected to do nothing. Nothing.

No cleaning, no cooking, no worrying about meeting up with friends or scheduling home improvements, just...nothing. They ordered food, the most unhealthy sort Kei could think of, and spent the hours together, watching shitty movies and reminiscing.

It's cheesy, he knows. But he doesn't mind that anymore either. It's so cheesy, and he loves it. He loves Tetsurou.

It's the perfect way to spend a night in his mind.

Over the years, Valentine's Day fills him less with butterflies, and more of a calm nostalgia. A comfort, a warmth.

Kind of like Tetsurou himself. Kei smiles; he knows the feeling is mutual.

That's one thing he does appreciate about getting older. The confidence in his partner, the content which comes with the smallest things. The need to pretend or hide is long gone, chipped away at throughout the years until it ceased to exist.

When he was younger, he'd always wondered if he'd ever get to point like this, how it all would feel...

He guesses this is what it's like. He finally knows the answer, grinning as he watches Tetsurou trip over his own feet as he races out the door to work.

This is fifty.

--

When they're twenty-four, they're not as enlightened.

"Kuroo, please stop," Kei pleads, and yes, he really does plead. As above freaking out as he usually is, this is ridiculous. His voice is a high-pitched whisper, and his shoulders are tense, looking every which way in search of a possible security guard or serial killer (anything could happen alright?) coming for them.

"Relax babe, we can do this no problem," Tetsurou shrugs him off, tying his old sports jacket around his waist and eyeing the chain link fence in front of them. At first glance, it doesn't look so tall, but Kei has his doubts.

In the distance, he can hear the crowd cheering as the opening act of a concert takes to the stage. He really does like this band...maybe--oh my god no!

Kei reaches forward as Tetsurou touches the fence, about to start his climb, grabbing his hands instead. This is a bad idea and they both know it. Tetsurou only blinks at him, torn between pleased and confused that they're touching, and Kei can't help it, he blushes despite his annoyance.

He keeps their hands locked together though.

"We're too old for this, you're not exactly eighteen anymore," Kei scolds, and he winces, the backpack he has on suddenly bothering him. They'd stuffed a good amount of beer in it earlier, hoping to have a romantic night at the concert.

Problem is, they're broke bitches, so actually buying tickets to said concert wasn't a possibility. Tetsurou had been so confident about finding a way in though, Kei had simply rolled with it.

How dumb of an idea could Tetsurou possibly conjure up?

That's what he'd thought. To this day, Kei doesn't know why he keeps testing fate.

Maybe it's because with Tetsurou, he doesn't need much convincing that things will work out. And really, they always have, just not always in the way he anticipates.

Tetsurou grins at him, kissing Kei's knuckles softly as he laughs. "Psh, you make it sound like I've got liver spots already, it's just a fence. We'll be over it no time..."

Tetsurou's voice climbs in pitch, playfully egging Kei on as he scoots closer, but Kei sees through it, and won't let the control slip so easily from his grasp.

Kei huffs, dodging Tetsurou's kiss to his lips. It takes more willpower than he'd like to admit. "Okay, what about this: I'm not eighteen anymore. Are you trying to kill me?"

He's not joking either. Kei wouldn't call himself a complete klutz, but he's not exactly Mr. Elegance. He can't even stand on one foot for too long, and his boyfriend wants him to hop a fucking fence?

If they get caught sneaking in with a crap ton of beer (assuming they make it over the fence without eating shit), they're dead, and Kei would rather not make that call to his parents to bail him out.

Tetsurou just laughs, the sound sudden and downright hideous, but Kei loves it anyways. "Stardust, you look as young and beautiful as the day I first saw you..."

"We're going to end up in the ER again," Kei deadpans, refusing to let the nickname get to him. It causes him to blush up to his ears, and even in the dark, he's sure Tetsurou can tell, but it's fine.

Compliments will get him nowhere.

Tetsurou slumps against Kei, a full body pout, and Kei can't help but laugh, pushing him in vain. Damn, Tetsurou is heavy.

"Hey stop--ah! Stop!" Kei pleads, his voice a whisper in between broken giggles. His legs are giving, and screw it, he just lets Tetsurou fall on top of him. Grass stains be damned, he is not losing this battle.

They end up wrestling for a bit, the grass soft and inviting, before Tetsurou pins him there, always better when it comes to contests of brute strength.

I'll get him back later. Kei never fails to.

Kei's laughter comes in short, fading bursts, his lungs fighting to catch up. Tetsurou's hands frame his face, and looking up, he can see the night sky is serving as the raven's own personal backdrop.

There's a lot of stars out, he notices, and for a moment, he wonders if it's really fair that Tetsurou gives Kei all the celestial nicknames. They seem far better suited to him, especially when those golden eyes are shining as bright as the stars above, focused solely on Kei.

Kei's own, personal galaxy, wrapped up in one person.

Ugh, listen to yourself. Shut up.

Tetsurou's rubbing off on him, and he's not a fan.

Rather than stew in his embarrassment, he meets Tetsurou's lips halfway, and the raven pauses just briefly, as if asking permission. It's almost a tease too, with how Tetsurou's breath tickles Kei's face from how close they are, the hesitation too considerate and too maddening all at once.

Kei grants the wish, and the kiss sends sparks through him, all the way down to his toes as he melts against his boyfriend.

It's short, because they're out in the open and Tetsurou knows how Kei is about their privacy, but that doesn't stop him from quickly rubbing their noses together before he finally pulls back.

Dork.

Tetsurou sighs, staring down at Kei fondly, and the blond thinks maybe now they can just skip all this and go home. After all, it's Valentines' Day, and the concert is probably on T.V. anyhow.

However, when has Tetsurou ever conceded so easily?

"Well, thanks for that, now I feel like I could climb two fences," Tetsurou says triumphantly, and Kei's smile instantly falls as his boyfriend smirks. "Maybe even a whole mountain."

"I'm leaving you." Kei gets up, but he doesn't go anywhere. He's all bark and no bite, sadly.

"Yes yes," Tetsurou says, because goddammit, he knows Kei's ass isn't going anywhere either, and turns back to eye the fence. "Now, back to business."

"Why are you like this?"

"I just like proving you wrong baby," Tetsurou says, putting one of his feet into an opening in the fence. Oh my god you're serious aren't you? Fucking...

"I highly doubt I'll be proved wrong," Kei says, already taking his phone out in case he needs to call someone. That, and part of him really does worry about his boyfriend's safety, and he'd rather not actively watch the climb. On the off chance Tetsurou actually gets over the fence, Kei notes, the raven will never let him forget it, so it's a losing situation all around for him.

Tetsurou turns to him, his hands and feet now locked into his starting position, and gives him one last dazzling grin. "Watch and learn."

And oh, Kei learns.

He learns that damn, he should be a motherfucking psychic with how good he predicted this shit.

They end up in the ER about half an hour later, but Kei's not really as concerned as he'd feared. In fact, he's starting to get bored. He knows it's bad, but the 'hehe I was right' potential behind this whole night has him giddy, and he can only hope he and Tetsurou stay together for the rest of their lives, just so he always has a chance to bring it up.

They hadn't gotten caught by anyone, but Tetsurou had lost his footing on the fence halfway to the top, and ended up with a deep gash on his thigh. After the initial freakout of driving them to the hospital and signing Tetsurou in, only to find the injury was an easy fix, he calmed down.

Three hours of waiting room scrabble and twelve stitches later, Tetsurou is signing out at the front desk about ten feet from him. Kei sits in the overly stiff waiting room chairs, ready to get up and help his boyfriend limp to the car. No excessive activity for a week and a half. Those are the doctor's orders, and Kei plans to enforce them, strictly.

This night has been a stressful one, but at least it was winding down.

Now, Kei only wants to go home and relax, maybe curl up with Tetsurou and watch the missed concert on pay-per-view and nurse his boyfriend's hurt ego.

The night is still young.

Plus, he can see the slight guilt in Tetsurou's eyes, the damn romantic. As if this could possibly ruin Valentine's Day. Hell, this is the best Valentine's Day Kei has had so far.

And the holiday would only get better, if the both of them were involved, no matter how stupid the shenanigans.

Tetsurou smiles sheepishly at him as he turns from the desk, and Kei shakes his head fondly, standing to allow Tetsurou to use him as his own personal crutch.

As heavy as Tetsurou is, Kei doesn't mind the weight.

Tetsurou groans a little from the pain as they walk through the parking lot, and when there's no one in sight, Kei allows himself to reach up and kiss the corner of Tetsurou's mouth.

"You know, maybe next year, we should stay home and order takeout," Kei suggests, his smile smug, and Tetsurou kisses it right off.

The raven sighs, but looks about as happy as Kei feels, despite the stitches in his leg. "You know what stardust, you might just be onto something."

--

Kei smiles at the memory, sipping wine from the mug Tetsurou bought him for his 50th birthday (because he's classy like that, and who needs wine glasses?).

He has his feet in Tetsurou's lap, and he's eating directly from the box of fried rice they ordered, because Tetsurou prefers pan fried noodles anyways, so they just order their own sides.

Kei is laughing so hard he fears he might choke, and with a pout, Tetsurou throws a spring roll at him.

"Hey! If you get crumbs on the couch, you're cleaning it," Kei protests, eating the spring roll because fuck no you're not getting it back now.

"You tell this story every year," Tetsurou groans, but he's laughing just as hard. "When will you give it a rest?"

"When it stops being funny, which will be never," Kei says with a shrug, because it is the most obvious thing in the world at this point. He likes to call that ER episode the most memorable Valentine's Day they've ever had, but he'd rather not have a repeat.

No, he'd been right all those years ago.

Sitting here in pajamas and fighting over what movie to watch, eating foods that'll go straight to his thighs...

This is his kind of Valentine's Day.

Doesn't mean he can't remember their younger ones fondly though, as stupid as they were.

And judging from the way Tetsurou is looking at him, like their back lying in the grass all over again, Kei knows he feels exactly the same.

"Guess I'll have to endure then," the raven says, pulling Kei into his arms, and he doesn't sound the least bit upset about it. "Happy Valentine's Day."

And yeah, Kei thinks, it most definitely is.

[trylonandperisphere]

Silent Retreat 2: When The World Breaks Through, Ch. 29

So, this is it, the final chapter. This writing of this fic was a long, bumpy road, and I have many people to thank for their help along the way, including my OBFrankenfic buddies who betaed now and then, my patrons who made it possible for me to spend more time writing and imbibe sufficient caffeine and nourishment, and every one of you readers, especially the ones who took the time to send me a kind word or comment. I so wanted to finish this fic and have it over with, and yet I find myself melancholy at the end of it, at the same time - probably because my OB fic writing days seem to be numbered. I have a few small Cophine projects left, but I'm hoping to move on to writing original work, as well as publishing an original adaption of The Swan and The Dove. I thank you all, and hope you will consider reading my other writing as I try to develop it into more than just a hobby. I will post updates on what I'm up here on my tumblr blog.

As always, you can also read this on ff.net or AO3.

Gratitude & XOXO, - trylonandperisphere

Of course there were things we never talked about with our “handlers.”

 We made the decision never to tell them about Sevvy’s special abilities.  He hung out with his cousin Kira, sometimes, who had started communicating with people in what I guess you would call “intuitive circles.”  Never in a flashy way, but to learn more about the feelings they got, and how to handle them.  We took the track of guiding him not to talk about it too much in public, but letting him know that he could look into it more as he got older, if he wanted to.  Of course it fascinated me, both from a energetic/spiritual point of view and a scientific one.  Had something been triggered in our genes when we were created, something that made our children sensitive?  Yet, the last thing I wanted was for them to ever feel experimented on.  There had been enough of that to go around in our family a long time ago.

But there was an advantage in Sevvy and Kira feeling and knowing things as they did.  As much as I had to work with my judgement and intuition, I felt that I could relax a bit as I moved into my new life, knowing that they would sound an alarm if the government agencies, or anyone else, weren’t to be trusted.  For all the things that had happened to me and my family, in some ways I was incredibly lucky.  I had thought it was my job to protect Sevvy and that I had fucked up.  But it not only turned out okay, it turned out that he helped me love and trust others, again, in a way that all my meditation and yoga never quite reached.

 He helped me trust the love of my life, again.

 Good thing, too, because for all my smarts, some things I was just as stupid about as the next human being.

 I was smart enough to stop running, to take the deal.  To tell the truth, I was excited to get back into science, again.  Sure, I had fears that I had gotten out of touch, forgotten too much, maybe gotten a little long in the tooth or out of the loop to keep up with the the younger minds who hadn’t been away from grad school.  But it actually felt like reuniting with a part of me I’d left behind, too.  I ran out way before classes started and got a bunch of hard-copy books and study aids to go with my digital ones.  I had missed the heft of them, the feel of the paper in my hands and under my highlighter and pen as I wrote comments and absorbed the information.  More than one person told me I looked like a kid in a candy store with my new school stuff spread all around me on the floor.  The meditation actually helped my memory, I found—along with the fact that I had the hottest professor on campus to help me whenever I needed.  Let the other students drool over that.

 And, in our new lab, there was a chance.  A chance that what I had learned and what we continued to learn could further help our sisters.  Maybe even the world.

 There might be problems down the line, we knew, when the administration changed hands, but that was for later.  Right now I got a life.  A life where I could legally go where I wanted to go, live where I wanted to live, see my family when I wanted to.  It almost blew my mind.

 Charlotte and MK both presented problems.  Once the youngest clone was cured, she’d have a lot of therapy and thinking to do to understand and accept what had happened, and even then, how one faux parent after another had lied to and manipulated her.  I wanted to help, somehow, but she was pretty distraught and hostile, which I suppose was fair, considering everything, plus the fact that she was then under government supervision most of the time. I was able to get occasional strained meetings every now and then with her, but mostly she remained stubbornly silent or full of contempt, until one day, out of the blue, she asked me about some of the benefits of meditation I’d mentioned.  Who knows how she opened up to it... maybe one of her therapists.  But I took it as a good sign, both that she was trying to heal herself, and maybe let go of what she had been taught about me.

 MK, of course, didn’t want to be too close to any authority.  She agreed to work with them on a case-by-case basis through us, and help track the kind of lowlifes who conduct unethical biomedical deals, hack to steal and hide large sums of money from the less fortunate, or trade deadly goods and information.  I even got to see her in person at a couple clandestine family get-togethers (sprung on me so I wouldn’t know ahead of time and fumble any lies with my agency contacts.)  She was too crafty even for best spies in the country, however, though.  She managed to disappear whenever she wanted to.

 So, our lives weren’t entirely normal.  They never had been, and they never would be.  But if they were strange, they were also exceptional in beautiful, wonderful ways.

 Like having a group of sisters so bonded, not only by being genetically identical, but by the challenges we had met because of it.

 Like having miracle children we were never supposed to have, and living through the disease that had been built into us to prevent our progeny: a double triumph of life over the attempt of some very smart, yet fundamentally flawed people who had tried to manipulate it, to control both nature and nurture, in ways which the infinite variations of existence would never let happen.

 Like having a full life, and also regaining one I thought I had lost.  

 Like getting back love.

 People complained (well, mostly Sarah,) about the long trip, but it was worth it.  Even she couldn’t stay grumpy-looking when Kira and Sevvy spotted a dolphin from the boat to the resort and started making exaggerated screeching and clicking noises at each other.  That and when Alison took a header into the pool running from a snake that turned out to be a stick on the ground.  That might have gone down as one of the most amusing days in Sarah’s life.  Thank god there wasn’t a silent retreat going on.  Her barking laughter and my semi-guilty giggles filled the air around us, and it was wonderful.  We were meant to be loud, exuberant, on this visit.

 Aurélie was as much of a hoot as when I met her in France.  She and her husband, Jean-Marc, brought their kids, but she didn’t let having a three year old and a baby stop her from going zip lining or staying up to tell silly stories about her big sister Delphine, who apparently went through a very clumsy phase in college. Nope, the younger Cormier daughter (now Carpentier) would pump her breast milk and hand it and her children off to Jean-Marc to do her thing, reminding us “I’m on holiday and we’re celebrating!” in a much more intense accent than her sister.  Honestly, I began to wonder if having that sleeping sickness as a kid had made her super awake for the rest of her life.  

 Besides, at that point, between me, her, my sisters, Shay, Scott and his wife, Bella… well, there were enough kids of various ages that we had them looking after each other like a wolf pack.  Plus, Delphine’s father seemed to be becoming doting in his older years, and we’d find him cradling the teeny one and cooing at his grandkids while his stepkids were off… well, jeez, who knows where all those kids went half the time.  I didn’t worry about it too much, with Helena around.  I figured she’d take care of any jaguar, boar, or fer-de-lance that so much as looked at the younger clan funny.  

 Plus, I had my amazing co-parenting boys to look after Sevvy while Delphine and I took care of other things.  That may not have stopped Teo from flirting shamelessly with Diego, the pilates instructor, but Michael took it in stride.  Teo loved to flirt.  He’d flirt with a rock, if he was in the mood. It was harmless, and was probably just exaggerated because he and Felix seemed to have some kind of competition going on.

 It was nice to be a guest at the resort.  I got massages, and took my family on tours.  I didn’t miss getting up early to teach classes at all, even if I did go to a couple with the kids.

 And in the morning, and at night, I had my love by my side.

 We could have stayed in one of our previous cabins for old time’s sake, but we took the honeymoon suite.  After all, that’s what we were there for.

 On the third afternoon we all snaked our way down the path and stairs, descending by the waterfall to where the river met the sea, and a few rows of chairs had been set up by a wooden arch woven with flowers on the beach.

 Margot did the honours, which were simple.  She even managed the quote in French.  We were too nervous to do our own vows, and too perfectionistic, anyway.  How do you you find the right words for something like that?  As scientists, Delphine and I could have researched what to say forever, and I didn’t want to give a performance.  But earlier in the morning, before we got ready, I whispered some lines from Audre Lorde’s Love Poem, one of our favourites, into her ear as she gasped below me, shimmering in sweat and recovering from our first round of lovemaking:

  ...And I knew when I entered her I was

high wind in her forests hollow

fingers whispering sound

honey flowed

from the split cup

impaled on a lance of tongues…*

 So no, we didn’t wait until after the wedding.  When the gulls wheeled over the ocean as we made our promises, it reminded me of the last lines of the poem.*  Maybe she thought of it, too, because I could swear I saw her blush—the most beautiful bride, and person, I’d ever seen.

 Maybe sometimes I can be smooth.  But I meant it.  And I’d do almost anything to see her that happy.  I want to see her that happy, again and again, as often as life allows, for as long as it lasts.

 Then there was the party, and it got a little wild, with my closest sisters there, all of us dancing and laughing, and Helena insisting on and winning at limbo.  And then there was the sky full of stars, and my lady and me sneaking away from the laughter and the music, and ascending, quickly as our dresses would allow, barefoot up the stairs in the water-misted night.  The frogs called their mates loudly enough to drown out our giggles, and a gecko scurried from the lintel of our cottage, deluxe as it may have been.

 The staff had lit candles, turning her skin golden and soft focus at the edges of my sight.  I wanted to remember every moment we were alone together here, again, returning to each other again and again in waves, to make up for the drought that had too long kept us apart.  I held her waist in my hands, taking her in, and my heart felt pressed against my sternum, swelling with a love so strong it bordered on painful, breath-stealing.  Her eyes met mine in that wide open, endless gaze she slips into, one hand taking my waist in return and the other tracing my clavicle.

 “Do you remember when we first saw each other again, here?” she asked.

 “Uh, yeah,” I answered, having to pull myself out of the trance I’d slipped into just contemplating her.  “I was in class, teaching.  I looked around, and… there you were.  You looked like you had seen a ghost… and I guess, in a way, you had.”  I gave her a small grin.  It had been a moment so resonant, and so difficult, in its own way.  To remember it now was poignant, almost jarring.

 “Cosima,” she breathed, and took my hands into her own.  She drew them to her lips and gently kissed the tender insides of my wrists each in turn.  “I was so shocked, and so scared, then.  Sometimes I wish I could go back in time to that day, and whisper to myself, to both of us, that it was going to be okay… that everything was happening just in time, as it was supposed to, and that our love had just been, almost… sleeping.”  Her dimples emerged and I could tell she was having one of those rare moments when her excellent English was escaping her in the face of her emotions.

 “Maybe you could bring a picture,” I teased, my grin growing.  “‘Here we are in our wedding dresses, Past Delphine.  This happens after you have to shoot somebody and rescue your bride-to-be like total badass, but you’ll get there.   P.S.: You’re going to be a mother.  Get ready to co-parent an amazing little kid with three other people.’”  She gave me a light tap on the arm in admonishment, as she often did.

 “You make fun of me, but it really shook me.  Of course, it was all worth it.  But I’m still impressed at how you were so calm and cool when it happened.”

 “I wasn’t, entirely, except…” I thought for a second.   “It’s funny.  I almost feel like I had, for a second, what Sevvy has, then.  I just had this feeling something was coming, even if it wasn’t totally conscious.  And then, when I saw you…”  I shrugged, unable to understand it, myself.  “It was like it was just right.   Like, sure, it had been ten years, but there you were, and it was like all the emotional work I’d been doing, all the healing, had made me ready for that moment.  It was inevitable.   We were inevitable, even if there was a piece of me that was still nervous, processing it.  I mean… it took me a bit to feel like we were on the same page, but… I can’t explain it, but it was just meant to be, and that storm brought you to me, finally at the right time in our lives, when we could work out everything that had happened in-between.”

 She hummed softly, in approval, and her hands found my face, stroking and holding it tenderly.  

 “It’s like that second storm,” I told her, and in the tilt of her head I saw that she knew what I meant: the one that had cut off our contact from each other when she was in the mountains at that conference, while Charlotte lashed out against us with her own wind and thunder, and I struggled to understand what was going on.  “There couldn’t have been a worse time for it to happen.  That’s what I thought then, anyway, when you told me about it.  Like, how was I supposed to believe that a freak accident had made you impossible to reach right when I needed you most?  It’s like it was almost put there on purpose to test my trust in you.  There was a part of me that was bringing up every terrible, difficult thing that happened between us, everything distrusting Sarah, or Felix, or anyone ever said about you…”

 She swallowed and licked her lips, hanging on my words.

 “What made you decide to believe in me?” she asked quietly.

 “Love,” I answered, and I smiled at her.  “I mean, sure, I could check the weather report, and I had Sevvy telling me things would be okay, and that helped, but…”  I shrugged again and looked down for a second, almost bashful in the intensity of the love in her eyes.  I felt my smile stretching even wider and met her golden gaze again.

 “We can believe things happen for a reason, or they don’t.  There was a time when I didn’t  believe in you.  I died from that disease that was built into me, or close enough, but I came back with your face in my vision and your voice reassuring me, within me so deep it had to be more than a thought.  But then you did what you thought was right to protect me, and I got caught up in rejection and fear…”

 Her eyes fluttered closed in pain for a second.

 “I hate to remember that time,” she breathed, “even if it is easier now than it once was.”

 “Yeah,” I acknowledged, and gave her a reassuring squeeze.  “My point is, I went down that road before, and missed out on you for ten years.  Whatever valuable life lessons I— we —learned from that, the biggest thing I learned was that, science or spirit, our hearts were meant to be together… and I wasn’t going to make that mistake again.”  

 I had just made vows to her, but I made one again.

 “I'm never going to make that mistake, again.  Not for as long as we live.”

 She took this in, and she shone from within as though the sun was breaking the horizon behind her.

 “I love you,” I told her,

 and

 “Je t’aime,” she said at the same time.

 We moved together and kissed, and it was just as right as it had ever been before, but it was different, because we’d made a commitment, we’d solidified it and vowed it in actual words before our friends and family.  We’d been through so much, apart and together.  But we’d made the promise now to never let each other walk alone through whatever life threw at us, again.

 Slowly, we undressed each other.  It felt familiar, yet new.  My pulse throbbed with the repeating mantra in my brain: we’re married, now.  This is my wife.  I’d never thought it was that important before; never thought that I was that sentimental, that a piece of paper from the state and a recitation and a ceremony that couple after couple had gone through, successfully or to end in bitterness, countless times over the centuries, would really be different from what we’d sworn to each other in private.  But it was real, now; it had weight, and depth, and meaning.  

  Delphine.  My love.

 In all the surprises I had had in my lifetime, that we had had, together, it was not the most dramatic: that making love with her, the feeling of her pulse and heat in my palm, the clasping of the inside of her body around my fingers pulling me into her with an involuntary force as true as her soul had pulled mine to hers through every obstacle, was different, now, somehow new, because we made it so by fully giving ourselves over to it; that when she brought me over the edge of reason with her mouth describing hot, pulsating patterns at the apex of my pleasure and convergence of my thighs, it was not just the flooding-nerve release it always was, plus the sweet tinge of love that turned the physical act a warmer shade of emotion; but that something within the chemistry of us had been forever altered and bonded by taking that leap, by promising: forever.

 It was not the most dramatic surprise, but it was the greatest.

 So far.  So far.

 *

Love Poem, by Audre Lorde

 Speak earth and bless me

with what is richest

make sky flow honey out of my hips

rigid as mountains

spread over a valley

carved out by the mouth of rain

 And I knew when I entered her        I was

high wind in her forest’s hollow

fingers whispering sound

honey flowed     from the split cut

impaled on a lance of tongues

on the tips of her breasts       on her navel

and my breath       howling into her entrances

through lungs of pain.

 Greedy as herring-gulls

or a child

I swing out over      the earth

over and over      again.

[weirdthingtosay]

I am imagining my father.

As I sit here, he is alone, in his cold but beautiful small farmhouse an hour from the nearest city. His house is filled with heavy, dark-wood furniture. The floor completely concealed by Persian rugs, overlapping each other and bumped and bruised from being trodden on and chewed by dogs. Intricately oppressive golden incense burners, the kind you find in a church, swing from the lowest of the beams, vomiting scent clouds into the room at head height which never quite dissipate into the gabled ceiling. They remind me of how I would play when I was three or four, jumping up into the smog-cloud of his cigarettes, visible, always, just above me in the living room - I used to imagine it was what being in the sky was like.

His walls are lined with books, mostly history, some philosophy of science, and almost all bound in linen with gold embossed titles. He had an obsession with the Folio Society for a while, he spent all of my mum’s money (the only income, until she fell ill) on those books. We shared cheap packets of pre-stuffed tortellini between four of us for months. The same happened when he was obsessed with weight lifting, model trains, motorbike engines, guitars, mosaic making, handmade shoes, Rolex watches, pipes, bonsai trees, wooden canes, belt buckles, and Toyota XR2is. Currently his obsession is making walking sticks and leather items. Buttons, bags, collars, whips.

He has always liked canes and whips. Once he brought home a blackthorn cane, and told my sister and I it’s illustrious history, and how we should respect and fear it, and that he was looking forward to using it. We knew what that meant. He wanted to put it on the coffee table to be seen at all times, but our dog wouldn’t stop trying to run off with it so he angrily hid it behind the sofa and went upstairs to sulk and sleep. We took it out and fed it, piece by piece, to the dog. I told this story, laughing at how clever we had been and how funny it was when he couldn’t find anything as good to beat us with despite being so angry, at school the next day. The silence of my friends was embarrassing, the silence of my teachers even more so.

I went to visit him two weeks ago, for the first time in a long time. It was still too soon. He showed me his ‘workshop’, a small space between living room and kitchen which has been filled with mandrels, hammers, materials, and tools I couldn’t afford. He’s making a walking cane with a tiger’s head on it, he says a rich ‘Indian’ wants it. I’m sure this is something he has imagined. He asks me what I think of his work, this being my ‘area of expertise’ (it is not), I play along. Yes, it’s nice (it is not). Yes, I think he might be able to sell some (I do not). He asks if I want to see the whips. Sure, I say.

Leading me back into the living room, I am instructed to sit down on a deep, musty armchair. In front of it I see a tapestried footrest which he hounded me for two years to restore for him as I ‘know about these things’. I eventually rinsed it under a tap and coloured it in with Sharpies and gave it back to him, to much praise. He takes out two long, poorly made whips, one tan, one black, and hands me the tan one. As I lift it up to look, the three dogs he owns who had been resting on the floor in front of us jump up at once. They back away, quickly, hiding their tails and cowering. I drop the whip down and say “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”, my heart is in my intestines and I’m at once aware that I mustn’t apologise and I mustn’t show I understand because he will punish me for it. I became everything in the room, for a split second, I became me - the adult runaway returning to him, me - the child hiding from injury, the dog - cowering and looking up at someone they trust, expecting to be hit and trying to minimise it, and him - the old man, who knows what he has done, who knows all of this, and sees.

I pick the whip back up, he shouts at the dogs to stop their nonsense, I tell him its very good and feign inspection and approval. I go off to cook us all dinner, the oven breaks, he wails at it like it can hear him and rants and raves into the door. Eventually we eat from a  camping stove. I’m not sure how he is surviving out there. There was nothing but spices in the cupboard. Nothing in the fridge except hallucinogenic mushrooms. Eventually, I’m going, I make the mistake of looking him dead in the eyes before I do so. He cries instantly, tell me he wishes he was a monk, he wants to be locked in a cell. I make a joke about it, tell him to commit a crime then, the rent’s cheaper. I leave as quickly as I can.

A week later he calls me. He has had the most traumatic day of his life, he says. He’s crying. I’m at work but I step out into the car park to listen to him. I don’t want to. He tells me a long story about how he walked with his dogs to the bottom of his garden in the morning, just as the sun bled into the clouds (his words), and that they had begun to fight one another. He tried to break them up. They wouldn’t. He hit them all with a spade. He dragged one of them, the smallest, back into the house and passed out, eventually waking from cold. He said he went back outside, to find the last two dogs and bring them in. They are still fighting. He reckons its been about four hours. He says they all ended up in the pond. He says there’s a man inside him. He says he hit them all with a spade again. He says he had to ‘make a choice, kid, I had to choose’ the dogs were ‘going to kill each other’ and that he’s living in some kind of parallel universe ‘the younger dog or the older dog’ and he can’t get out ‘he was going to kill him I had to make a choice I chose the younger dog’ so he grabbed the spade and smashed it’s head in.

I nod, and ‘mhmm’ at the right places. I’m numb and blank in a car park, white walls from the surrounding kitchens making the sky black. It is so clear it’s like water, a black mirror, and I can see where my face should be reflected there is a solitary dog, an animal I felt I was, an animal I have been, on it’s back outside in the cold under that same infinite yet smothering darkness. I’m dead, it’s dead, we’re all fucking dead. There’s no life-as-it-was after this. There’s no forgetting how he kicked our childhood dog to death, how he dragged my mum out into the street when she had her stroke, no laughing at disposing of that cane. It’s here, it’s back. It is not the past. I am not a runaway, I’m just running in circles and now we’re all fucking dead.

I spend the next week deep in phone calls and decisions about sectioning and police and ‘has he shot himself?’s with my sister. We don’t know what to do. Why should we? Why should anyone know how to deal with this? We can’t get him sectioned, he’ll attack anyone who goes there and end up arrested. We can’t call the RSPCA, the dogs bit him when he attacked them and they’ll be put down. Something has to live through this. We ring him constantly, eventually he picks up. He’s not shot himself - good, I say (I’m not sure if it is), I can rehome the other dogs, I just have to go and get them. He seems calmer now. Maybe we should check on him, we say. And then the universe replies - and snows us in for two days. We were supposed to be driving to get the dog and to take it to it’s new owners, for a test run. They can’t make it and neither can I. In the days between these events my heart has softened. I’ve thought of taking him in, of helping him, of closing us off and of my duty and putting all of my self preservation aside - sacrificing myself to this great man, just as he’s always taught me. I phone him to tell him I’m sorry but I can’t make it today, I’m snowed in, we’ll have to reschedule. No, he says. He needs me to come down. He can’t face going outside. He wanted to bury the dog in a circle of saplings, to give it eternal life. He’s a psychopathic murderer, he says. He can’t look at the dog he killed a week ago. Can’t look at it’s ‘slit throat’. I thought it was a spade, I say. He says he killed his best friend. He slit his best friend’s throat. I have to go and move the dog. He’s phoned the college I work at and is enrolling. We’ll live within 15 miles of each other. I’m a good kid. I need to move the dog. No one else will understand. I’m the only one. I’m a good kid, not like the others. He’s got the blues. Life is hard to him.

I told him I’ll come as soon as a I can, but it won’t be this week. Maybe after Christmas. I can see the chain of events now. I opened the door again, I let him back in. He managed to get his nails in a crack and is ripping an opening. ‘You’re stupid for animals’, he used to say to me ‘they don’t have feelings, you let them manipulate you’. I said, maybe, but I prefer it this way. I’m naive. Probably, but I’ll live with that. I am dismissed. ‘Well I’m busy too,’ he says ‘the man is coming for the walking stick, I need some advice about pricing…’. I have no interest in talking to him about his walking stick, or how to apply for student loans, or how much they are, or whether I can use my contacts at the college to get him some extra financial aid. I say sorry, but I’ve got to go. After I hang up I’m wrung out. I don’t know if I’m good, or bad, or I’m broken or righteous. I know that whatever I do or say or think I’m making a choice, a moral choice, a choice with huge implications, I’m paralysed by the responsibility for something 60 years of trauma in the making, something I only have the privilege to know about because I was stupid enough to visit twice in two years.

I am imagining my dad. Waiting with his badly made walking stick for a man who may or may not be real. Filling out his student loan forms. So high he doesn’t know he’s hungry. Shuttered away from the bloated mutilated body of his dog outside the only door to his home, which he can’t pay for. So fragile but so powerful in destructive ability. I’m imagining him waiting for me to call. I’m imagining him lining up his next strategy if I don’t. I’m imagining him thinking about me, who I am, how to manipulate me. I’m imagining me, 11 years old, sitting on the step outside my house in the morning, waiting for him to arrive on his bike like he said and eventually going inside at bedtime. Me, 18, running away to an Art College in the country which would be my home and safe place for the next 10 years. I’m imagining me, six months on from now, the life I have built to escape from him, fully flayed open - bloating and stinking, because everyone is too afraid to bury it.

[amongushq]

Welcome to Among Us, JENN! ORLANDO LERMAN ( with the faceclaim of XAVIER DOLAN ) has found shelter in NEW ATHENS, where we hope HE will fit in nicely. Please make sure to check the “after applying” section of our navigation here!

And there he is, Maxine Lerman’s infinitely tragic and infamous yet very handsome brother. What’s nice to see is that even though he refers to his sister a couple of times, she doesn’t overshadow the entire application, which is exactly what we love to see. Each character is their own person, and Orlando is no different. It’s great that you did a little mun takeover for practical reasons but let us know what you were doing, and the sample para clarified a lot of points. Kudos to you, Jenn, and we can’t wait to have you around.

AND YOU ARE…?

What is your full name, and when were you born?

This handsome spawn of Dionysus blessed the entire world with his presence around the 7th of August in the year 1996.

Look, I normally don’t tell people my full name because one: it’s stupid; and two: names have powers ain’t it? But since this is of urgent matters then fine — my full name’s actually Orlando Aurélien Lerman although ‘Orlando’ or “Lerman” would do just fine; although you might accidentally summon my baby sister instead of just me if you use my surname. And trust me—you’d probably don’t want us in the same room for the longest time.

Just — don’t listen to whichever creative names my little sister Maxine comes up with and you’re automatically on my good side. She’s the only one who’s allowed to call me names, though.

Have you been claimed, or do you belong to a legacy? If yes, state your godly parent / heritage.

I don’t think I was even claimed properly until I showed up in CHB at the ripe age of 16 with the full intent on making my sister’s life a living hell (okay, maybe a trio of automatons making my life a living hell back then helped in my intent in searching for CHB), yet, I have always known that I am a child of Dionysus himself. Special thanks to my mother (and my sister, when she started attending this “camp”) often dropping hints during uneventful family dinners when we were younger. Plus, is the mere fact that I can conjure vines out of nowhere and I can cure madness itself not enough of a proof for you that I am a son of Mr. D?

Where are you currently based? Are you attending a Camp (Half-Blood / Jupiter), or are you living full-time in New Athens / New Rome? Is it a combination of both?

I’d be living full-time in New Athens with my girlfriend until this fiasco with the witch hunt that the mortals started settles down. I would be visiting CHB every now and then though since I have been getting a few requests from Camp Half-Blood if I would like to aid in training some youngins there.

Can you tell us a little bit about yourself? ( If you’re applying for a canon character, are you diverging from book-canon? If so, how?)

You mean apart from being known as Maxine’s infinitely tragic and infamous yet the most handsome big brother?

(And now, a Mun takeover, since Orly here can’t be truly and fully honest for this segment without joking and/or purposefully inflating his ego.)

Orlando is far off from that arrogant kid that absolutely hates his sister for existing and breathing. Don’t get that statement wrong: he’s still a twat. But he’s more of a decent twat now. He actually values relationships and personal ties more than everything despite of looking like he doesn’t for majority of the time through his words. He has a hard time expressing it verbally but he always tries to show it through his actions. Orlando’s relationship with his full-blooded sister, Maxine, has changed drastically ever since their fight during the last battle with the Lycans. He doesn’t consider himself as the best brother to be around for Maxine, but he’s trying to be. Although he’s past on being bitter on living under the shadow of his sister, swirls of insecurity and self-doubt still lingers on the back of his mind. He still thinks up to this point that Maxine is far stronger and more talented than him in utilizing their godly powers and their prowess in battle despite of the fact that he can neutralize his sister just fine during a battle.

What were you doing prior to The Recall?

I was in college for a good amount of time before the whole Recall thing happened and I was this close in finishing my undergrad degree in BS Psychology. I used to study Legal Management so I would eventually ship myself to Law school after graduation when I had an epiphany to have a decision to shift to Psychology. I never thought I would wind myself up in that particular program in my more than two decades of existence but here I am. Toni thinks it’s a noble decision, I call it practical. I mean, why not pick a career path completely in line with my set of skills and/or powers?

(Plus, after seeing my sister’s mental health at its worst during that fight with the Greek version of werewolves really had me thinking of the reality that was the mental health of all demigods in a post-war setting or even after a traumatizing quest involving them. They have literally no one to turn to as a professional help on whichever they are struggling with mentally. Well — technically they can get professional help; except for the fact that the available therapists around are mortals. And you cannot fully disclose yourself if that were the dynamics, thus, not really giving the patient the proper treatment. Plus the mere fact that some dickhead can’t shut his piehole that led to the witch hunt for us demigods and legacies now really closed off that option for them. I just really want our turf to attend to mental health as well, you know? It’s just as important as the physical health; and there are some things that ambrosia nor nectar cannot fix fast enough, you see.)

[find-your-rp-partner]

apocalypses and heroes and ice skates, oh my!

hello hello my baby hello my honey hello my ragtime gal!

hey how are ya my name is emmy and i’m here to search for a new rp partner. a bit about me, i’m 21, canadian, about to start a summer job before returning to college, and i go by she/her pronouns. i reside in the mountain timezone and i am thrilled to hopefully start writing with you. 

why should you write with me? because i promise that if i pick up an rp with you i’m gonna put 100 and 10 percent of my effort into our story. i’m looking for a long term typa gig, someone who i can really weave a plot with, someone who digs the cut of my jib. i want us to be able to sob over our characters together late into the night. i want us to exchange songs, playlists, posts found on the internet, aesthetic boards, whatever reminds us of our characters/our plot. i want us to go through our character’s struggles together as well as be able to cheer together when our characters get ahold of their sitch and come up on top. i want us to inspire one another with our writing. it’s gonna be great. you & me honey. 

gee, that sounds nice! i’m inclined to agree with ya! but a few things you should know before you go any further: i write anywhere between full lit to lit + to novella style, so expect posts of at least 4 - 6 paragraphs baseline. sometimes i crank out 10. or 20. depends entirely on what’s going on. i write according to situation, with a great amount of detail spent on what my character is thinking/feeling in response to yours. the replies you get will be fully fleshed out & enthralling. i am a stickler for grammar and spelling, though nobody’s perfect, i do occasionally have my slipups. all lowercase text is strictly kept to ooc communication. i will never pressure you into posting or writing ridiculous amounts just to match my post. i want you to have fun too, ya hear? if i’ve had a bit to drink or am about to hit the hay, i’ll wait to post when i can give my post my full attention. usually i’ll be able to post at least once a day, sometimes multiple times a day if we’re in the same or a similar time zone. i also totally understand life happens and sometimes we just need a breather. ♥ i have bipolar depression, and sometimes my depression kicks my ass, but i’ll let you know when that happens.

oh goodness, what else? i write predominantly m/m pairings but i am open to m/f and f/f as well. i do not write high fantasy settings, sorry doll. my interests mostly align with modern day, slice of life kinda stuff, aside from the fandoms i do have. i don’t have many limits besides excessive gore, scat, mpreg, and writing smut for sake of smut. i love my romance just like anyone else does, but it’s got to have plot. our characters have to have chemistry or else i get bored. i haven’t doubled before but i think i’d be down with the right plot. usually i prefer that we play one character each, or we play multiple characters within a plot, but not usually more than one plot at the same time. but!!! i am totally willing to try new things!! just be patient with me as i learn m'kay? also most of my characters are pretty kinky but like, i prefer that we talk about kinks and limits one on one as opposed to airing out my character’s laundry. also- i wanna be your friend ooc. let’s chat. i find it’s so much easier to have muse and post if i enjoy the virtual company of the people i’m writing with.

ok but what do you write? 

what *don’t* i write? kidding. here’s a bit of fandom for ya. if i’ve got plots listed, they’re the ideas i have, but i’m totally open to yours as well. stars denote how much i’m craving them. i’ll list the canon characters i write after i list the fandom: 

fallout: new vegas & 4: arcade gannon & elder maxson, paladin danse - also got a ton of ocs for both *plot for fallout 4 a: we explore the cut ending to the brotherhood of steel questline, wherein the sole survivor and paladin danse refuse maxson’s final orders for danse, and fight for danse to become the leader of the brotherhood of steel. would likely require you playing maxon or danse and me playing the other, with one of us playing the sole survivor.  *plot for fallout 4 b: your/my oc is a double agent for the railroad, with the mission to infiltrate the brotherhood of steel and send intelligence back to the agents back at home base. your/my oc becomes unexpectedly attached to elder maxson through work and circumstance. eventually, your/my oc must make a choice of where their allegiance lies: within the arms of arthur or with the faction they are fighting for. (potentially, we could double and do plot a & b at the same time.) 

mafia 2: vito scaletta  ***plot for mafia 2 a: we explore the dynamics of a relationship between vito and your oc. your oc could be in a position of great risk- think outside of the mafia, possibly a police officer, prostitute. some position where power dynamics could be played with. if the pairing is m/m we also deal with the themes of internalized homophobia and coming to terms with one’s identity. 

*bioshock 1, 2 & infinite: brigid tenbenbaum, andrew ryan, frank frontaine & eleanor lamb, sofia lamb & booker dewitt 

**marvel cinematic universe: tony stark, steve rogers

**greater marvel universe: logan howlett, carol danvers 

***the office: pam beesly, angela martin 

but honestly where my heart lies is within oc rp. here are a few plots i have of mine, stars denote how much i’m craving them:

**(m/m) power & politics: my oc is a prestigious state senator, who lives a double life. he is currently in the closet with no intent on leaving it anytime soon. however, a certain someone falls into his life, making him question what he thought he knew for certain. your oc breaks down the walls my oc has put up and changes him into a softer, better man. however, with an upcoming presidential campaign on the horizon for my oc, the limits of the secret relationship will be pushed and pulled beyond what both parties have ‘signed up for.' 

****(m/m) the guardian: your oc is a newcomer to the nhl but is quickly making waves- think connor mcdavid style. he’s young and impressive, but mostly, impressionable. he starts to get battered around by both his teammates and opposing teams. after a few hard hits and fowl play within the game that have cost your oc bench and recovery time, the team’s coach calls in reinforcements to boost the team’s morale and serve as a protector to your oc. my oc is a winger who hasn’t got the talent part but has got a huge heart. not to mention… huge hands. good for makin’ fists. good for fightin’.  my oc protects your oc during the games, coming to your oc’s aid, picking fights for your oc and protecting him on the ice. as such, the two wingers grow attached to one another.. perhaps too attached for the coach to be comfortable with. possibilities for a love triangle and other complications, for sure.

***(m/m or m/f) two worlds: your oc is a figure skater. my oc is a goaltender. both happen to share practice/warm-up ice and, in my oc’s effort to show off and win your oc over, he injures himself. one awkward trip to the er later, while under the influence of a huge amount of morphine, my oc admits his attempted double axel was prompted by the simple thought of how cute your oc is. this plot starts simple but compounds, with the two struggling with their careers and seeing one another, as well as my oc’s battle with alcoholism & painkiller addiction within the nhl. 

***(m/m) too good to be true: our ocs start out in the whl, both as promising wingers. their good chemistry is vital to bringing back their team’s success. however, one of our ocs starts to get too attached to the other, and when an nhl draft separates them, one of our ocs is all too eager to cut contact and try to forget. the two excel in their nhl careers without one another, and end up on nhl teams with a history of deep rivalry. occasionally, the gloves hit the ice, fueled by the tension of unresolved feelings and the pressure of the respective teams to keep up the rivalry. the two are reunited when they are both chosen to play nationally for the same team, and are forced to reconcile what they have both buried so deeply within them. 

***(m/m) big money: these two ocs play for rival teams in the nhl. while their teams have a history of tension, our two ocs take it to the next level. audiences are more excited to watch these two fight than they are to watch the game itself. there’s a market in the violence between these two, and a reputation to maintain on both ends. if the public found out that these two were secretly seeing one another, their careers would both be over. 

i recognize that a lot of these focus on the nhl/the lives of professional hockey players- please don’t be worried about hockey knowledge/nhl jargon/whatever else goes through your head! i’m more interested in sport as a realm for drama than i am for following the rulebook and being 100% accurate to life when it comes to hockey. there’s a lot i don’t know and am still needing to learn, myself! as for general oc ideas, here’s a list:

professor x student

veteran x civillian

cop x criminal 

street racing, fast-and-furious-esque setting

rival gangs 

nhl/hockey based (lol obviously)

small town canadiana or americana 

fun, fluffy romance based modern settings

darker themes such as addiction, abuse, etc

historical setting- preferably, the second world war/1940s-1960s 

honestly whatever you can pitch to me that isn’t high fantasy ☺

hell yeah let’s do this pal 

if any, and i mean any, of this piqued your fancy, pleaaaase shoot me an email at 

↳ ehmmywrites@gmail.com ! 

i will respond! but please send me something thoughtful! i’d like to hear what part of my ad that you’re interested in/why you chose to contact me. i am willing to rp over email or over skype. just let me know. i’d like to email back and forth a little bit before we get right into it & before i give out my skype. i am totally down to chat via google hangouts, i prefer it, but i'll use skype too. i want to get to know ya! i sure look forward to hearing from you!  ✌ & ♥ emmy 

[soitg03s-blog]

I don’t know what to tell you, about when it started, she said. I just don’t know, maybe around the time she’d used all her returns from Wal-Mart, or maybe when her self-administered Fentanyl drips allowed her to tango with death all too often. She definitely wasn’t wearing the right shoes. It was about that time she looked in the mirror and realized she wasn’t who she thought she would be at 28 years old. She hated looking in the mirror, why save something you don’t care about? Her hair was chopped off; she had cuts and cigarette burns running along her arms, riding in a car with no brakes, expired plates and hitting in the same parking lot she’d copped in. Just for a brief moment before the overdose, just for second, she remembered who she really was. Was this the Karma Police? Didn’t you know this is what you get when you mess with us? And the feelings sometimes were almost too much to bear, but she thought she had to keep going. She couldn’t get clean for her family or her mother, who means the world to her. Her friends kept telling her, “We’re going to bury you Kris, please get help. It’s okay you relapsed, its okay.” But didn’t you know she was that girl that never made a mistake twice. She had to want this.

She remembered being pissed because her dealer wasn’t answering her calls at 8am in the morning. Didn’t you know they only have one customer and are supposed to be open 24 hours a day? She finally got a friend to answer, shockingly a former friend from NA, leave it to the rooms to help you with all your endeavors; however pure or not. Her smile wasn’t what is used to be, and she didn’t smile much anyways. Numbness was preferable. Induce the Profanol doc, call it human nature, and just beat it. Who doesn’t want to feel like MJ just for a second, a God among men? Her small pale arms bruised from dull rigs. Shame is purple and blue. She couldn’t handle it, she needed to use right then. There was always this compulsive need to have heroin, have Xanax and if she was tired enough throw an Adderall or ten in the mix. How do you know when you’ve reached the edge? She thought about that Hunter S. Thompson quote she loved so much, something about the only people that truly know what the edge is, are the people that have gone over it. She swan dived over without thinking and during the free fall, didn’t regret a thing; however, she came to this realization that she would hit the ground soon, impending doom. Do all dogs go to heaven? Shit, she’s a cat; nine lives and she’s about to become a prime number.

There is a saying in the rooms of NA that states there are only three things that will happen to you in drug addiction. There are only three places you’ll end up, jails, institutions or death. Leave it to her to be an overachiever, skip a grade or in this case skip right to death. She remembers sitting in a Rite Aid parking lot in Kannapolis, NC and taking a hit. Euphoria followed by a tube being jammed down her throat. Her feelings were always rather paradoxical, a sun Taurus and Scorpio moon sign. Are things really black and white? Because life is lived in the gray. She was gray, rotting, she felt like she had an expiration date on her and she just reached it. Is this how it all happens? She lay there and wonder. What happened to that girl who had so much zeal and lust for life, for living? And in addiction, despite her intense and passionate urge for what the French would call, L’appel du vide, which is defined as: the call of the void. She began to think in that moment she didn’t want to die. She didn’t want her mother to bury her. She wasn’t 27 anymore, no cool club to join; she was just an almost thirty something aimlessly searching for meaning. She would become that girl people who say, “She had so much potential.” She reached transcendence through chemical best friends or so she thought. L’appel du vide has a literal translation as the instinctive urge to jump from high places. As an addict, she began to think she wasn’t worth saving; no one would climb this cliff to come get her.

The monotonous tone of the sirens wailed and she lay there in absolute misery, wondering why they brought her back. Just let me jump, she thought. She thought about the last time she was in treatment, they had an activity where she had to describe her perfect day, a peaceful place she could go, a safe place. She went there in her mind. She was in the mountains with her mother, with her best friends. The leaves were changing colors and they all laughed. Neil Young playing on a portable record player, her friends taking Polaroids, joking around about the latest Louis C.K. standup. “Let’s just do everything a little bit wrong.” She looked over at her mother, who is healthy and smiling, looking right at her with those same green eyes she has. And suddenly her beautiful moment interrupted. Static over a Walkie Talkie, “Yeah, Jim we’ve got a 28 year old, heroin overdose. Caucasian, Female. She’s incoherent. Pulling into back entrance now.”  Hey, you, she thought. I’m here, this isn’t me, wait, wait, all I wanted to do in the beginning was lose myself…. And now, right now, she would give anything to find herself again.

Fast forward to 46 days later:

I read an article the other day about the concept of a Multiverse. Damn it feels nice to sit still and read again. Also, that whole concept of being able to concentrate, eh it comes and goes. All in time. Where were we? Oh that’s right, the article stated basically, in short, that we never truly die. Our spirit at least, it never truly vanishes. I’ve always believed in this in some way, our pictures, our loved ones and our memories, they keep us alive.  But this, this is more than just memories. This is something you can hold, put a wire around and protect, I’m referring to a soul. I was fascinated by this article; I’ve always been a fan of Quantum Physics. Basically the implication was we never truly, at least in terms of our consciousness, die. Instead when we leave our bodies, our mortal portals, our consciousness goes into time and space. The universes own compost and into the void we go. I’ve always honed in on the belief that we are all stardust, so small, so insignificant but found joy that we, mere mortals, could make such a lasting impact on this world. In a multiverse there are infinite possibilities. There are multiple realities happening simultaneously, and one decision, has the ability to throw you into a different reality, a reality which is already occurring. Which road will you take? Follow the white rabbit? The yellow-brick road? Are you more a breadcrumbs kinda girl?  Truth is all relative and our surroundings shape our perspective. We begin to believe what we see, what we taste, feel, touch and hear. But the fact of the matter is we can chose to emphasize the reality we are in. Embrace this universe.

In active addiction it was like I doggy-eared just one page of the narrative of my  life and space and time bent. If addiction doesn’t break you then you’re sucked into a black hole. Sadly for most of us, never to be seen again. Nothingness ensues. I’ve thought about this deeply, how in this reality I am 46 days clean and sober. Nothing mind altering, unless you count my normal psychedelic thoughts, sorry ya’ll that’s all natural. But, I thought about how in one reality I am still stealing random things from Wal-Mart and complaining at the cashier when they won’t return 4 three month supplies of this flea and tick medicine for dogs or take my license because it is literally expired by 8 months. True Story. I am using and I’m not dead, yet. In another reality, I see my beautiful mother crying, all my friends there, all my old teachers, and I’m six feet underground. “It’s such a shame, she had such promise. She got Most Outspoken 2006, she won’t be speaking much anything anymore.” And then I thought about this reality, the reality in which I am in. How the term Oxford was an argument about a comma or a university my favorite teacher in college went to, but now it means the ground in which I stand on. I always had all these thoughts about an Oxford House, but they have thus been extinguished, since this fire to live has lit inside of me. I’ve also been, to get real with you guys, so terrified that I cannot do this. I have self-doubt often, symptomatic of any addict. Am I smart enough? Am I pretty enough? What is my identity, am I just a needleless junkie? What if I can’t manage my own life? But life, these thoughts, they don’t stop for anyone and these moments I feel sadness, it’s inevitably fleeting and in the same breath I think I am terrible for what I’ve done, I realize I’m clean nothing else matters. I am who I am.

I have scars, imperfections. Can you tell I went through years of active heroin use, I’m not sure, but does it matter? This is the universe I dwell, may as well manifest a better reality for myself. I have deadpan humor. I like all things vintage and despite my seemingly cynical and sarcastic demeanor, I have so much faith in this world. Faith in my fellow human being, I am not hopeless. I’m Southern, keep holding those doors boys. The girl next door appreciates it. I even have a hard time looking at myself in the mirror today. It honestly reminds me of the first time I ever took Acid. “KRIS DON’T LOOK IN THE MIRROR.” You already know what I said, fuck ya’ll, I can handle it. And I did, but damned if I can’t always handle looking in the mirror, clean, all that well today. I fear that I may actually see what other people are talking about, that potential and in doing that I fear letting everyone down. I’m always screaming from the inside out, but in the best way possible, if such a thing exists. There is an energy that hits me in the chest and I realize I’m alive and everything else just seems secondary. Whitenoise. My life is a perpetual electric guitar shoving against an amp, waning out of control. And I wouldn’t change it for the world. I’ll indulge in recovery and take those suggestions, why? Because fuck heroin, fuck drugs. I’m too old to be doing that shit anyways. I’ve done enough for about ten times worth of watching Fear and Loathing and towards the end there throw in some Requiem For a Dream and we all know how that ended. I don’t need DMT to awaken that third eye. I was once blind, but now I see: Third Eye Blind, a great band. I want my life back, my semi-charmed kinda life.

I woke up that first day in detox completely lost from the days prior, still having some rage happening from too many benzos, starting to opiate detox, the watering eyes and muscle cramps, nausea. The unknown is scary, but today the void isn’t death or jails or institutions, it’s recovery. I still want to jump from high places, because I’ve always craved the adrenaline our body naturally produces; only the high places are my goals, my ambitions and dreams. Every day I’m clean, I start to believe I can reach those high places once more. I’ve found that the void I was so aimlessly searching for, its recovery. The void is being clean and truly feeling things again. Feelings just happen to you. I’m not the girl in the back of that ambulance. I am not a statistic. I’ve never conformed, why start now? I’m not simply a name on a tombstone or a member of the wasted youth.  And if I ever feel myself slipping, believing that I could indeed be the girl in one of those other multiverses, those other realities, which could so easily happen, perhaps I’ll call Rick and Morty, have them help me out. Whabbudubdubdub! Who doesn’t want friends that traverse time and space, am I right?

And into the void we go, loves.

Into the Void I don’t know what to tell you, about when it started, she said. I just don’t know, maybe around the time she’d used all her returns from Wal-Mart, or maybe when her self-administered Fentanyl drips allowed her to tango with death all too often.

[irarelypostanything]

Pinnacles National Park - Quick Reflections

To say that the High Peaks Trail at Pinnacles National Park is scenic is an understatement--it’s actually breathtaking.  It’s a long way up.  It’s hot, and tiring, and even though it’s less than 10 miles for the round trip it still seems endless.  But for that view, every step is worth it.  You can see the rocky hills, and you can see miles and miles out, and you go so far up that places you were just an hour or so ago become dots in the distance.

The caves are closed two months out of the year, but they’re open in August.  They’re pitch black and go straight up, but they’re cool inside and give the impression that they exist in their own closed off world.  The path is narrow at times.  Sometimes it seems impossible to even traverse that cave, but there’s light that shines through from a distance to illuminate the dimmest and most narrow way up.  If you have gear, there’s rock climbing opportunity.  If you don’t have gear, there’s at least technically still rock climbing opportunity.

I went out there with 11 other people, 4 of whom I’ve known since I was 12.

******

Camping is kind of an interesting experience, in and of itself.  You’re basically paying to struggle, not unlike the process of paying for a gym membership.  For a fraction of what most hotels charge, you pay to go somewhere where there’s no fridge or freezer, where the concept of “indoors” is a tent, and where you typically hike more than you drive (after you get there, anyway) and paddle instead of rent a motorboat.  A more conservative person might take his/her family camping to remind the children of traditional values, like cultivating outdoor skills and understanding what it’s like to be in a family and not be spoiled by air conditioning and video games.  A more liberal person might jump at the opportunity to highlight the beauty of national parks, and emphasize how important it is that we always have parks like this one for future generations.

I haven’t taken much vacation at all since I started working, but this sort of thing provides new perspective.  Maybe the reason people take vacation is for just that--perspective.  But if new perspective is all that matters, I need only find a book of a different genre, or discover a new series on Netflix, or go into YouTube with the aid of a randomizer app.  I think the experience of camping, or perhaps travel in general, provides something that’s hard to capture.

We have natural tendencies, and sometimes the routine of school or 9-5 suppresses these tendencies.  I know, for example, that I naturally like to wake up with the sun, and I find it a bit insane that I don’t.  We know how to exercise.  We know how to work for our food.  Naturally, we want to be in the outdoors and we want to be in nature.

Paradoxically, it’s so relieving to come back and go to a hot shower.  It’s nice to not feel the constant need to check email to see if there are any emergencies at work, or if any important correspondence came through, but there’s an indescribable comfort in feeling responsible again.  Returning to a purpose.  Come Monday morning, returning to a job.  Here, fruits and vegetables are readily accessible for a smoothie.  Here, the phones can charge and there are a million apps for everything. 

*****

There were so many stars.

We talked, and we hiked, and we cooked, and in between the simple tasks of pitching tents, of taking trash back and forth, of washing pans with a spigot, we looked at stars.

I’ve known some of these people for longer than I’ve not known them.

I feel sometimes, thinking of what we’ve been through, that we’re the ones who succeeded.  We did what we were supposed to do.  We went to school and/or got jobs, pursued engineering or business or the medical field, and we did so by our own merit.

But it’s an arrogant thought, a thought I’m sure most people have.

Sometimes in the middle of college, I used to feel like I was in this giant, secret, unspoken longitudinal study.  They were tracking us for years, trying to figure out the formula for how to grind out successful people and how to fail in the process.  So what was I?  Was I a success, or a failure?

Underneath the stars, we’re so small.  In those endless hikes, there are as many possible paths as there are lines you can draw within a circle.  We don’t have to do anything.  We don’t have to prove anything.  By being there, under the stars, you’ve proven that among the vast cosmos and the seemingly infinite, you’re allowed to exist.

And that’s what being is like.  You don’t have to prove yourself to the universe because you’re already here, in the one planet we know of that we can call home.

I thought of some big decisions I’d like to make, I thought about where I stood in the middle of it all, and when I looked over it in my mind I had clarity.

And I was reminded, in that moment, of the weight and meaning in that.

[bestforlessmove]

8 Helpful Tips for Moving Out for the First Time

Moving out for the first time can often be a truly daunting task for a number of valid reasons. Number one, you may feel scared of the upcoming relocation simply because you've never moved house before, and number two, moving out of your parent's house for the first time will put a heavy financial toll on you – something which you may or may not be ready to face.

On top of that, moving away from home for the first time will often prove to be an emotional rollercoaster – on one hand you've got joy and excitement at the prospect of finally living on your own with no one around telling you what to do, and on the other hand, you're deeply worried and even terrified at the thought that things may not work out as you hope.

Follow these 8 useful tips for moving out for the first time so that you can practically survive your very first house move. Armed with this guide for first-time movers, you'll definitely be well prepared as to what to expect when moving out for the first time.

1. Create a to-do list

You'll probably get plenty of advice on what to do when moving out for the first time, but the truth is that some of those tips will work great for you, and some just won't. The problem with never having done something before is that you're not entirely sure what to expect and what you think will happen and what will actually happen may be two rather distinctive things.

With no previous house moving experience, you'll probably find it really difficult to figure out where to start. You know that you are supposed to start planning and preparing to move out, but you probably have no idea what things to do when moving out for the first time.

Don't just stand there doing nothing – instead, create a checklist for moving out for the first time. It's not complicated – you just need to write down all the things you have to do, and then start working on those tasks. It's a merely a to-do list that will help you organize the time you have until Moving day.

Moving checklist: Free, printable, interactive

2. Set up a moving budget

How much money you have saved up and how you manage your finances will be essential for the success of the relocation project. Therefore, budgeting for moving out for the first time should be a top priority for you during your very first move.

What's the cost of moving out for the first time? Factor in all

Proper budgeting is the key to a successful first-time move.

moving expenses – hiring professional moving services, buying proper packing materials, purchasing moving insurance, etc.;

housing expenses – paying your first month's rent plus a security deposit, paying the utility bills, etc.;

other expenses – all the things you'll need for the new home.

Don't forget to include any non-negotiable payments like groceries, car payments, or college loans.

If your moving budget gives you bad news, then don't despair because moving out for the first time with no money – insufficient money, that is – is still possible. In addition to some good ways to save money when moving out for the first time (hiring cheap movers, taking only the things you really need, packing on your own), you can always consider 1) asking your parents for a first-time moving loan, or 2) postponing the move until you save up enough money to move out.

10 tips for moving on a low budget

3. Hire a good moving company

Moving out for the first time to a new state or to a new town or city within the same state is a big challenge for a first-time mover in terms of preparation and execution. Therefore, instead of attempting to organize a self-move against all odds, your safest bet is to rely on professionalism and experience so that you won't have to deal with the stress that comes with moving house for the very first time.

Finding a good moving company that offers affordable relocation services is not overly complicated as long as you follow these 3 simple steps:

Step 1. Get free moving estimates from pre-screened professional moving companies that are adequately insured and have been licensed by the U.S. Department of Transportation.

Step 2. Request in-home surveys by the moving company representatives that will result in you getting accurate moving cost estimates. Those in-house visits are the perfect opportunities for you to find the answers to important questions.

Step 3. Compare the moving quotes provided by the professional movers and pick the offer you can afford in terms of cost and you like in terms of conditions.

How to find reliable movers

4. Find a steady job

Moving out of your parents' home is a brave decision that should not be made hastily. Without a doubt, the most important question you should ask yourself before initiating the moving preparation is whether you are financially ready to move away from your folks.

It's vital that you secure a job prior to the move simply because living off your savings until you find a job can be too risky. Still, the decision whether to find a steady job before or after the move will depend on a number of factors, including how sought after your qualifications, skills, and abilities are on the labor market.

The majority of young adults start their careers at entry-level positions until they find a way to climb the corporate ladder. Securing a steady income is essential, but your salary must cover the basic living expenses – otherwise, you may not be ready yet to start living on your own.

City to city moving checklist

5. Find a good and affordable place to live

Finding a suitable place to live after the move is one of the major steps to moving out for the first time. After all, you will need to have a place to move to, right? The important thing here is not to rush this step – you will have numerous options to choose from so you will need to find the place that best suits your budget and lifestyle.

Don't rush the step of finding a suitable place to live.

There are many things to consider when deciding where you will live after moving out for the first time. Assuming that the town or city is already a confirmed choice, then you need to think about the LOCATION of your new home. Research various neighborhoods when it comes to safety, cost of living, accessibility, cleanness, green areas, and so on. How close or how far will your new place be from your workplace?

The AFFORDABILITY of your new home is another major factor to take into consideration when moving out for the first time with a limited budget. As a rule of thumb, your rent should not be more than 30% of your disposable income. So, teaming up with a roommate – ideally, a friend or a colleague – is the more frugal choice as the costs for the rent and utilities will be halved, but you won't have the complete freedom you may have hoped to have. If you can manage the living expenses, then you should definitely choose to have the first place all to yourself.

10 things people forget to do when moving house

6. Know what to pack when moving out for the first time

Moving out of home for the first time can be a confusing period when it comes to deciding what things to take with you and what things to just leave behind. And since you haven't moved house before, you may easily make one of the most common moving mistakes – to pack and move everything that you own without any careful sorting and meticulous selection.

One of the things to remember when moving out for the first time is that you'll most likely be moving on a tight budget, which means that any avoidable expenses are not welcomed. Remember that the more items you move with you, the higher the transportation costs will be. Therefore, the cost-saving formula is simple: move only the most essential items.

Inventory your possessions and create a packing list for moving out for the first time. Be ruthless while figuring out whether to take an item or not – ask yourself if you really intend to use it in the foreseeable future. Be on the lookout for items that are too worn out to be used again, items that are out of fashion, broken things, unwanted items, duplicate items, or just possessions you know you will store infinitely in the new home without any good reason.

One good piece of advice is to accept whatever usable items your parents offer you. After all, every new beginning is tough so you should appreciative of all the help you can get.

Packing timeline for moving: Your packing checklist

7. Don't be shy to ask for help

Is moving out for the first time hard? It sure is. As you can see, there are many things to keep in mind while preparing to move out from your parents' house, and one of those things is that, as a first-time mover, you must ask your parents and your friends to help you out during that highly transitional period.

Ask friends to help you pack simply because, you know, you've never packed your things for a move before.

Find the courage to ask your friends to help you move. Being overconfident in your abilities to organize your first move entirely on your own, or being too shy to ask your pals to give you a hand, may ruin your chances for a smooth household move.

Unless you're moving a very short distance and you are sure you can make it work without any professional assistance, then you'll most likely be hiring professional moving services as described above. And if that is the case, then your parents, siblings or buddies can save you money by helping you pack up your things really fast.

Be considerate and inform your friends that you're going to need their help as early in your moving preparations as possible. It would not be nice to ask them for aid at the last minute and expect them to change their plans all because of you. Naturally, you'd want to minimize the disruption of their daily schedule and plans.

Finally, don't judge your pals too quickly or too harshly if they (kindly) say NO to your call for aid. Not everyone can spare the time, and some of your potential helpers may simply be not willing to help you out. Either way, you should grateful and make the most of relocation help you actually get.

Moving out of state checklist

8. Set up a schedule of chores

Follow the above tips for moving out of home for the first time and you should be able to bring that all-important first house move to a successful end. Having survived the feverish preparation and the stressful moving day, you will soon find yourself in the new place, away from your parents' home where things were well-organized and everything made sense.

Now, it's time to organize your time by setting up a schedule of chores – tasks that you must do on a regular basis to keep things running smoothly like they used to be prior to the move. You're in charge now, so do your best to avoid any serious post-relocation mistakes.

Set up a schedule of your daily and weekly household chores and stick to that agenda to make the most of your time. List all errands that require your attention – cleaning, laundry, shopping, meal planning, cooking, and so on.

Switch into a super economical mode after the move until you figure out how to budget your money properly. Limit greatly the amount of money you spend on leisure activities – your financial priorities should be the rent, utilities, groceries, and other types of payments that you must pay every single month.

Be a smart shopper, use the public transportation, and most importantly – resist the temptation to rush to the stores and purchase a bunch of items for the new home – things that you may not need at the moment and may never actually use.

10 essential things to do after the move

The post 8 Helpful Tips for Moving Out for the First Time appeared first on The Moving Blog.

[headed4hell]

Auto Lotto Processor Review

Auto Lotto Processor Review

Auto Lotto Processor Review

Auto Lotto Processor Review

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l2_6ILOV1RM

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S93OD2XspBI

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4wGzpJBigWY

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If you simply have a brief quantity of your time to meditate, twelve times is a superior range, however 108 is the very best. A travelling range is precisely Auto Lotto Processor Book the identical set of four digits that build up a winning Decide 4 range that is drawn a number of times over a transient time period in a lot of than 1 State. Utilizing lottery pattern strategy might help you forecast numbers which will win steady quantities. Based mostly on where you're, lottery pools may be illegal, so it is vital you check before you select to start one. Bear in mind, you may never go wrong to be told from those individuals who have won the lottery employing the precise same system or strategies. With some creativity and a little bit of programming knowledge opportunities exist for the standard lotto player to boost their odds to win. Of course, no lotteries provide an straightforward method to select winning variety combos. 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You'd prefer to play a particular quantity Auto Lotto Processor Login of lottery tickets that you are able to afford to play each lottery draw. The help of the mind and its base, to show her kid to do the meditation, you need to get one. Lottery for Lotto, those that cash in on it forever, from the college of the rationale for it was nothing else, and that they prayed, and also the reward is stored up during a physical sense and emotionally because it were of the mind. In order that the worth can perpetually be either to conquer or to the worth of solely 2 heaps were to lose him. If you're one in all the few who don't know here is an simple rationalization of how cold and warm numbers work and the approach you will use them for winning the lottery. It's possible to easily use it so as to generate your winning numbers in an automatic method. All six winning numbers drawn from one cluster is very unlikely. The Lotto Black Book'' has been producing quite a smart Auto Lotto Processor scam or real deal of buzz during the last few months. Stay in the sport and play as frequently as you'll. Your risk of winning the following lottery is currently greater having to pick from a additional compact set. You'll be ensured by winning virtually all of your lottery games when you use the computer software. Winning the lottery is mere luck, therefore, think once more before you pay your onerous-won money on the odd probability of winning. The key rule here is to hitch simply a club with the folks that you just trust like your loved ones and friends. A lottery formula is made by groups of people who have place a great deal of your time behind the nuts and bolts of any gambling game before it's introduced to the overall public. Millions of individuals are playing the lottery today and with good reason. And also the case of the argument does not, consistent with the fortune of the lotto. It is the duty of the day in the principles and teachings of the, that is ever active. This is why it's invariably in order to run predictable.however, in fact, is necessary therefore wonderful to Auto Lotto Processor Discount your participation. This approach you'll get a special treatment. There's a myth in the mind of the challenge. What is wrong with the actual fact that the reason can forbid to scan. What will not work, stop wanting for a very little whereas. In this way, you are doing mean, I even have heard from others, in that which is, is in error, and in no other reason however analyze it. These lottery systems are found to steer to a range of winning variety combos over many lottery systems. This is the means how to interpret it. Thus, you play the role of a woman who isn't nevertheless on the role of a winner. Is established by the purpose of breaking out of the rank of the subconscious mind. There's a flower. Thus woodland. 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It is essential that a lottery betting system you'll Auto Lotto Processor does it work opt for is straightforward to use. Of us who say they play lotto for fun, rarely it's true. With technology nowadays, it's possible to rig the lottery. Indeed, you are ready to continually win in any type of lottery you play when you employ the program. Additionally, an incredible lottery system can have a variety of consistent wins from drawing to drawing. Use the system yourself to see whether their way on how best to win the lottery does very do the duty. Improving my system and trying to win a jackpot has come back to be a pleasant hobby that is lots for my efforts.  Through using a Choose three lottery betting system, your odds of getting the ideal numbers are Auto Lotto Processor Secret increased greatly. If you're still undecided concerning what numbers you may choose, you'll be able to get a utterly free choose three lottery system. It is a system that may be employed by everyone. Since the lottery company could be a lucrative one, there's a full ton of scams circulating on-line. The Illinois Lottery also provides players with the aptitude to obtain subscriptions for choose lottery games online.

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Auto Lotto Processor Review

Auto Lotto Processor Review

Auto Lotto Processor Review

Auto Lotto Processor Review

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l2_6ILOV1RM

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S93OD2XspBI

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4wGzpJBigWY

 Auto Lotto Processor Review - Will It Work Or Scam? Will Richard Lustig's Auto Lotto Processor Very Work or Scam? Browse my Auto Lotto Processor Reviews to grasp more regarding this Auto Lotto Processor System. Auto Lotto Processor Review There are respective services regionally, and they're more than prepared to help people who are hooked on gambling. As you're going to be spending a nice deal of your time on your laptop or desktop playing internet poker freerolls that would run for Auto Lotto Processor Formula extended hours, you've got to make sure to have the most appropriate hardware for it. Thus, you play a lottery game and once that have the selection of paying an extra dollar to play Encore. Another advantage in choosing your own range combination, or utilizing a system, is the risk which you will have the ability to try and do away with the numbers which aren't as powerful. You simply want to pick the terribly first set and the system is going to try and do the remaining half of the job for you. The system is actually a very thought outside the box'' niche that is used in any state and virtually any country where you're in a position to play the lotto. Whatever choice system you utilize, the quantity of potential combinations is inclined to be giant. The web provides Auto Lotto Processor Free many different types of systems and ways, and it can be overwhelming to try to get the best one. When you may analyze your lotto system, you will have the power to find facts, signs and patterns that alternative people who do not meditate, are unable to even assume about. Knowing just the manner the lotto games work will aid you to spice up your chances of hitting the lottery. To seek out the answer, you have to 1st understand the means the lottery works. The lottery is played with numbers and ought to you observe correctly there is continuously a winning pattern. Finally, you are in would like of a Lotto system. Lotto tickets on the net is an net lotto portal that views Latest Lottery Results videos, it may aid you to decide on your numbers. Lotto is not a play by likelihood. It's attainable to require facilitate of leaked numbers which typically provide hint to the pattern of the set of winning quantity of the specific game. To let you know straight, there's surely a secret formula to win the lottery. It's the easiest approach to select your winning numbers. You have to seem for a chance and Auto Lotto Processor Scam luck in winning the lottery isn't the active, effective and profitable approach, and how quickly it can be ready to search either. It's easy to notice first that, as additional effective. According to the present execution, you must produce someone. Manufacturing, mounted left brain and right brain to mobilize an infinite pleasure than to boost your ton in the sphere of information and provide an account. You receive information that a plus. More and more you create on your system running. If you are looking for a certain way to which you're in a position to choose winning Powerball numbers, you've got come to the proper spot. If you would prefer to browse an intriguing story of someone who has won lotto a lot of than once click the hyperlink below. Men and ladies who play the lottery might see that luck is not sufficient to ensure them to win, especially should Auto Lotto Processor Pdf they need been tormented by dangerous luck recently. It will definitely facilitate your by simplifying the task of handling the sport complexity, nonetheless to win the lottery that you continue to require old style glorious luck. The lottery pattern offers you the trend by which you're in a position to calculate the winning numbers. Although the strategy may sound a tiny complex, it is of course as straightforward as 1-2-three. 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For instance, if the lottery you play entails choosing 6 winning numbers and you have got fifteen numbers you would like to play, there will be 5005 unique combinations. Another fashionable one might be the necessary number wheel. In this specific game, you've got to choose 5 numbers from two or three distinct fields. Think about choosing numbers that you're thinking that will never come out. No matter how you outline a practical, their creativity will be the solution to your problems Lotto. Auto Lotto Processor System Is it a bird out of the water within the lake that burns with the exotic delivered into the immortalized that can be forgotten, it's the expression of the breast. Depending on just like conserved absurd, or it one in every of you, and the a lot of elegant are useful or useless. If you are gifted and creative. Normal concepts, creativity and out of position. There's nothing sort of a creating of a purpose. The very fact that each one of the individuals or for something else. Auto Lotto Processor Methodology Most lotto researchers recognize that giant quantities of lottery mixtures produce a important challenge in developing the most appropriate structure of the database to deal with complex queries. The huge drawback in analysing lottery results is the massive number of potential combinations. The lottery doesn't have abundant logic, it's regarded as more regarding picking out Auto Lotto Processor Reviews the proper numbers than something else. The second division winner will have the power to match 5 of the key numbers additionally to the bonus range on their price ticket. If you are a California lottery player then you have to understand some vital truth concerning range choice. According to the number of folks taking part in the sport you've got to urge the tickets, solely then you may be in a position to be half of the sport. It's not easy to seek out however once you find it you will search for the advantages for the remainder of your life. If you simply have a short quantity of your time to meditate, 12 times is a superior range, but 108 is that the very best. A travelling variety is precisely Auto Lotto Processor Book the identical set of 4 digits which make up a winning Decide four variety that is drawn a number of times over a brief time period in more than 1 State. Utilizing lottery pattern strategy might facilitate your forecast numbers that may win steady quantities. Primarily based on where you are, lottery pools may be illegal, thus it's important you check before you decide on to start out one. Bear in mind, you will never go wrong to be told from those folks who have won the lottery employing the precise same system or strategies. With some creativity and a bit of programming knowledge opportunities exist for the ordinary lotto player to boost their odds to win. 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All six winning numbers drawn from one cluster is very unlikely. The Lotto Black Book'' has been manufacturing quite a sensible Auto Lotto Processor scam or real deal of buzz throughout the previous few months. Remain in the sport and play as frequently as you'll be able to. Your chance of winning the next lottery is currently bigger having to select from a more compact set. You'll be able to be ensured by winning virtually all of your lottery games when you employ the computer software. Winning the lottery is mere luck, thus, suppose again before you spend your onerous-won cash on the odd chance of winning. The key rule here is to hitch simply a club with the people that you simply trust like your loved ones and friends. A lottery formula is formed by groups of people who have put a nice deal of your time behind the nuts and bolts of any gambling game before it's introduced to the final public. Millions of people are taking part in the lottery these days and with good reason. 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Later on, you must purchase the lotto wheel package for a selected price therefore that you will play the lotto for real. It's essential that a lottery betting system you'll Auto Lotto Processor does it work opt for is straightforward to use. Of us who say they play lotto for fun, rarely it's true. With technology these days, it's possible to rig the lottery. Indeed, you're in a position to perpetually win in any sort of lottery you play when you use the program. Additionally, an incredible lottery system can have a number of consistent wins from drawing to drawing. Use the system yourself to see whether or not their method on how best to win the lottery does extremely do the task. Improving my system and making an attempt to win a jackpot has return to be an enjoyable hobby that's plenty for my efforts.  Through employing a Decide three lottery betting system, your odds of obtaining the ideal numbers are Auto Lotto Processor Secret increased greatly. If you are still undecided regarding what numbers you may select, you can get a completely free decide 3 lottery system. It is a system which will be used by everyone. Since the lottery company is a lucrative one, there is a whole lot of scams circulating on-line. The Illinois Lottery also provides players with the capability to get subscriptions for select lottery games online.

[horrorparadox]

Auto Lotto Processor Review

Auto Lotto Processor Review

Auto Lotto Processor Review

Auto Lotto Processor Review

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l2_6ILOV1RM

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S93OD2XspBI

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4wGzpJBigWY

 Auto Lotto Processor Review - Does It Work Or Scam? Will Richard Lustig's Auto Lotto Processor Very Work or Scam? Scan my Auto Lotto Processor Reviews to grasp additional concerning this Auto Lotto Processor System. Auto Lotto Processor Review There are respective services locally, and they're a lot of than ready to assist individuals who are hooked on gambling. As you are going to be spending a nice deal of time on your laptop or desktop playing net poker freerolls that would run for Auto Lotto Processor Formula extended hours, you have got to create bound to own the foremost appropriate hardware for it. Thus, you play a lottery game and after that have the choice of paying a further dollar to play Encore. Another advantage in selecting your own variety combination, or utilizing a system, is the chance that you will have the flexibility to do away with the numbers that are not as powerful. You simply need to select the terribly 1st set and also the system goes to try to to the remaining part of the work for you. The system is actually a terribly thought outside the box'' niche that is used in any state and nearly any country where you are ready to play the lotto. Whatever choice system you employ, the number of potential combinations is inclined to be large. The internet provides Auto Lotto Processor Free many different sorts of systems and methods, and it can be overwhelming to attempt to discover the most effective one. When you may analyze your lotto system, you'll have the power to get facts, signs and patterns that alternative people who do not meditate, are unable to even suppose concerning. Knowing simply the approach the lotto games work will aid you to spice up your probabilities of hitting the lottery. To search out the solution, you have got to 1st understand the method the lottery works. The lottery is played with numbers and ought to you observe properly there's invariably a winning pattern. Finally, you are in need of a Lotto system. Lotto tickets on the internet is an internet lotto portal that views Latest Lottery Results videos, it might aid you to decide on your numbers. Lotto is not a play by likelihood. It's possible to take help of leaked numbers which typically give hint to the pattern of the set of winning quantity of the specific game. To let you recognize straight, there's surely a secret formula to win the lottery. It's the simplest approach to pick your winning numbers. You've got to appear for a chance and Auto Lotto Processor Scam luck in winning the lottery is not the active, effective and profitable method, and how quickly it can be in a position to go looking either. It's simple to note 1st that, as more effective. According to the present execution, you want to create a person. 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For instance, if the lottery you play entails choosing half dozen winning numbers and you have fifteen numbers you would like to play, there will be 5005 unique combos. Another popular one might be the vital variety wheel. In this specific game, you have got to decide on five numbers from 2 or 3 distinct fields. Think about selecting numbers which you think that will never come out. Irrespective of how you define a sensible, their creativity can be the answer to your issues Lotto. Auto Lotto Processor System Is it a bird out of the water in the lake that burns with the exotic delivered into the immortalized that can be forgotten, it is the expression of the breast. Depending on similar to conserved absurd, or it one in every of you, and therefore the more chic are useful or useless. If you are gifted and inventive. Normal ideas, creativity and out of position. There's nothing like a creating of a point. The fact that every one of the individuals or for one thing else. Auto Lotto Processor Methodology Most lotto researchers apprehend that giant quantities of lottery mixtures create a significant challenge in developing the most suitable structure of the database to deal with advanced queries. The large drawback in analysing lottery results is the large variety of potential combinations. The lottery doesn't have a lot of logic, it's regarded as a lot of regarding picking out Auto Lotto Processor Reviews the right numbers than anything else. The second division winner will have the power to match 5 of the key numbers additionally to the bonus variety on their price tag. If you're a California lottery player then you have got to understand a few necessary truth regarding number selection. Consistent with the number of folks collaborating in the game you've got to get the tickets, only then you may be able to be half of the sport. It is not straightforward to seek out however once you find it you may hunt for the advantages for the rest of your life. If you just have a brief amount of time to meditate, twelve times is a superior range, however 108 is the terribly best. A travelling range is strictly Auto Lotto Processor Book the same set of 4 digits which make up a winning Pick 4 variety that is drawn a number of times over a transient time period in more than 1 State. Utilizing lottery pattern strategy might help you forecast numbers that will win steady quantities. Primarily based on where you are, lottery pools could be illegal, therefore it is important you check before you decide on to start out one. Bear in mind, you'll never go wrong to learn from those people who have won the lottery employing the precise same system or methods. With some creativity and a bit of programming information opportunities exist for the standard lotto player to boost their odds to win. Of course, no lotteries provide an easy method to select winning number combinations. These lotto programs are made to produce you with the good thing about enjoying the lotto having a superior technique instead of simply with blind luck, this fashion you will fairly boost your possibilities of successful the lotto. The lottery is all terribly method Auto Lotto Processor Members development so as to form issues. This makes for a heap of today's problems unsolved. In addition to the standard issues, and they are not merely be solved by using a mathematical system. There's no comprehensive examination of all this stuff, we tend to are being a memorial of failures. That there is a lack a scarcity of understanding. Lotto problems require a artistic mind. Lottery pools are a means that of getting the better chance of winning a lottery without desirous to pay more money for tickets. It is doable to utilize that money for yet another price ticket and boost your probabilities of winning. You would like to play a selected amount Auto Lotto Processor Login of lottery tickets that you are in a position to afford to play each lottery draw. The facilitate of the mind and its base, to show her child to do the meditation, you wish to induce one. Lottery for Lotto, those that cash in on it forever, from the college of the explanation for it was nothing else, and that they prayed, and therefore the reward is stored up in an exceedingly physical sense and emotionally because it were of the mind. So as that the value will forever be either to conquer or to the value of solely two heaps were to lose him. If you're one in every of the few who do not apprehend here is an simple rationalization of how cold and warm numbers work and also the approach you'll use them for winning the lottery. It's possible to easily use it in order to come up with your winning numbers in an automatic method. All six winning numbers drawn from 1 cluster is terribly unlikely. The Lotto Black Book'' has been producing quite a smart Auto Lotto Processor scam or real deal of buzz throughout the previous couple of months. Remain in the game and play as frequently as you'll be able to. Your possibility of winning the following lottery is currently greater having to select from a more compact set. You'll be able to be ensured by winning virtually all of your lottery games when you employ the pc software. Winning the lottery is mere luck, therefore, assume once more before you spend your hard-won money on the odd chance of winning. The key rule here is to join just a club with the people that you simply trust like your loved ones and friends. A lottery formula is created by groups of people who have place a great deal of your time behind the nuts and bolts of any gambling game before it's introduced to the general public. Millions of individuals are enjoying the lottery these days and with sensible reason. And also the case of the argument will not, consistent with the fortune of the lotto. It is the duty of the day in the principles and teachings of the, which is ever active. This is why it is perpetually in order to run predictable.however, after all, is important thus wonderful to Auto Lotto Processor Discount your participation. This means you'll get a special treatment. There is a myth in the mind of the challenge. What is wrong with the very fact that the rationale will forbid to scan. What does not work, stop looking for a very little while. In this method, you are doing mean, I even have heard from others, in that which is, is in error, and in no other reason however analyze it. These lottery systems are found to guide to a range of winning range combos over many lottery systems. This is that the way how to interpret it. Therefore, you play the role of a woman who isn't nonetheless on the role of a winner. 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The potentialities of winning the lottery are extraordinarily tiny regardless of what you do, there's not any secret that could guarantee you will hit a jackpot. Later on, you ought to purchase the lotto wheel package for a particular price therefore that you'll play the lotto for real. It is essential that a lottery betting system you may Auto Lotto Processor does it work opt for is easy to use. Of us who say they play lotto for fun, rarely it's true. With technology these days, it's possible to rig the lottery. Indeed, you are in a position to continuously win in any kind of lottery you play when you employ the program. Additionally, an amazing lottery system will have a range of consistent wins from drawing to drawing. Use the system yourself to determine whether their approach on how best to win the lottery does extremely do the duty. Improving my system and attempting to win a jackpot has come back to be an enjoyable hobby that's masses for my efforts.  Through employing a Choose three lottery betting system, your odds of getting the perfect numbers are Auto Lotto Processor Secret increased greatly. If you're still undecided regarding what numbers you'll select, you can get a utterly free choose 3 lottery system. It is a system which will be utilized by everybody. Since the lottery company could be a lucrative one, there's a full lot of scams circulating on-line. The Illinois Lottery also provides players with the capability to get subscriptions for select lottery games on-line.