#it’s just an arsehole move to be honest

[7yearsofdele]

Going to have to spend next week drunk if I plan to get through it without murdering my entire family.

[bettertwin1]

Hey, just a little ask to see how you're doing. I'm sorry there are arseholes out there who have the audacity to do such a sickening thing and you have every right to block, report and shut them out. Just know that there are people out there that will be by your side and will genuinely care and respect your boundaries. I don't really have that much to offer if I'm being honest, I'm always here to give big hugs (with permission ofc) and my gardening skills and interest in bugs provide a great distraction (although I get a nagging feeling that's gonna distract Donnie more than anything). But yeah, take it easy okay? And do what is best for you, you've got our love and support /p

Leo's doing a bit better. He's gonna be a bit shaken up for a bit but It makes me very happy to know he has so much support. I'm sure with time he will be able to move on from it and such- but for now I will also be sure to be doing what I can when needed

[strangelittlestories]

It was somewhere around a year into the apocalypse when the Lion and the Lamb found what they had long been looking for: a very remote (and thus largely unpillaged) and *very fancy* hotel.

(Lion and Lamb were the names I knew them by, at least. We met at a wedding - always a strange event in the end times - and they did not give me their true names. This was, honestly, a wise move given the kind of entity I am. But they did gift me with this anecdote, which perhaps reveals more about them than a simple name could.)

After scouting the place out - and bloodily evicting a small pack of ghouls that had gotten separated from the horde and (hopelessly lost) wandered into the hotel spa - the pair climbed the many steps to the building’s palatial penthouse suite.

There, they found many wondrous treasures. Fluffy bathrobes. Tiny sachets of shampoo. A bed so large it should probably have been illegal.

And, of course, a little peace and quiet.

---

“What do you think the thread count on these sheets are?” Asked Lamb.

“Do I look like the kind of person who understands thread count?” Lion was already lying in the bed, starfishing her limbs out across the pillowy expanse.

“It’s just…this might be the softest thing I’ve ever felt. This has got to be four hundred. Maybe even five?” Lamb’s brow wrinkled for a moment. “Hey - would you mind if I take this with us when we leave?”

“What’s the matter? You already afraid to go back to scratchy blankets and sleeping bags?” Lion grinned, while twisting the top off a little bottle of Jack Daniels. A small pile of tiny liquor bottles lay beside her; across the room, her axe rested against the sundered mini bar.

“No, I uh-” Lamb looked sheepish. “I was thinking it’d make for good bandages.”

Lion paused with the mini bottle of Jack on her lips. She made steady eye contact with Lamb as she downed the bottle, then threw it casually to one side.

“You want to take the sheets off this bed.” She sat up and calmly took hold of Lamb’s arm, pulling him close. “This bed that may as well be made of clouds. These covers that were probably hand spun by gods or artisanal Shoreditch arseholes. This bed that may be the last gift from a now-absent god, and which - by the way - we have not even hugged in yet…”

“Well, when you put it like that-”

“You want to take the sheets off this bed - this bed that is larger than some countries - and tear it up for stab wounds and bullet holes?”

“I just-”

At this point, Lion yanked on Lamb’s arm and he tumbled awkwardly into the aforementioned bed, rolling over Lion and landing nestled snugly in the crook of her shoulder. It was somewhere between a cuddle and a headlock and, if we’re being honest, Lamb really didn’t mind that.

Some time passed. We need not discuss how it passed, let us simply say that it did and that, for the Lion and the Lamb, its passage was necessary, healing and only mildly bruising.

Lamb sighed happily and said:

“I just thought. Y’know, about the bandages. That … well, dangerous shit happens to us so often. It’s really easy to get used to being scared. To being hurt. So I figured it might be nice, y’know, if when we were patching each other up, we had something soft to do it with. So that even when it hurts the most, we can *practise* being soft. And it’d be something that reminded us of this. This perfect day we stole for ourselves. A happy memory to literally bind up the hurt with.” Lamb looked shyly up at Lion. “It probably sounds silly. Or soppy. But, well. I am those things sometimes.”

Lion leant down and gently and carefully kissed Lamb on the forehead.

“Okay.” She said, in a voice roaring with love. “We can destroy the sheets when we’re done.”

“Thanks.” Said Lamb. “I knew you’d cotton on.”

And, even despite the pun, Lion could not have been happier.

[bodhranwriting]

The Chosen Many

Destiny is a woman.

There’s nothing much important about that particular aspect of Her. It wouldn’t make much difference to the world if the sparks that make up the goddess of human fate had decided that Her avatar should be male or genderless. After all, personality is more important than genitalia when you can shape them yourself and She would have been just as a much as an arsehole if She’d been a He.

The important part is that She made Herself a humanoid body and, with humanoid bodies, come humanoid thoughts.

Thoughts like, ‘I’m bored’ and ‘You know what might be fun?’

Gods aren’t worshipped here. They turn up too often and overstay their welcome: rather like that one friend at a party who didn’t bring any alcohol and is suddenly very insistent on trying out a watery interpretation of socialism. At best, the more conscientious ones get thank-you gifts. At worst, it’s a toxic relationship for whomever has caught their attention.

Priests tend to get friendly with the bottom of a glass by their third year in service.

Destiny doesn’t have priests. Contrary to popular belief, She doesn’t have much interest in everyday people either. If you were to be honest – preferably in the temple of another god She’d recently annoyed – Destiny’s plans are faint pencil sketches for most. Often, She gets bored and, apart from one or two big events, most people have blameless, simple lives.

But sometimes, She likes to leave a massive metaphorical rake across the lifespans of a significant number of people.

This is one of these times.

And here we meet Sandford Candles – Sand – riding towards the village of Westbank, blissfully unaware that it is going to be obliterated by the hand of fate before he has time to finish his residency.

He was a skinny, suntanned youth, old enough to grow a beard but so far completely unable to. His hair was the colour of wet straw and cut in the style of Not Able to Afford a Proper Barber. Stray tufts stuck up at irregular intervals and occasionally he attempted to flatten them with his hand, but since he had three out of five fingers, it was less successful than he obviously intended. He was clad in the junior uniform of the Royal College of Medicine – maroon breeches, cream tunic, sky-blue jerkin – which had never looked good on anyone who wasn’t colourblind and therefore did not look good on him.

It certainly didn’t look good after a few hours of being rained on, but it was telling that that hadn’t upset him. Sand moved through the world with the good humour of someone who has never yet had anything bad happen to him.

Besides, the last rays of the setting sun were shining down on him through the autumnal leaves, the birds were singing, and he could see signs of civilisation that suggested his destination wasn’t too much further. He was taking his first steps – or rather, Arta, his horse was carrying him – into the next chapter of his life and he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to make the best of it.

His enthusiasm wasn’t even dampened as he rode into what certain, snootier classmates would term a ‘bend in the road’. A cluster of cottages huddled around a square of green, gradually fanning out into lonely farmhouses and huts ranged along the lakeside. Shepherds were herding their sheep and chickens back into their barns, fishers tying up their boats at the slick-wood docks, and small shopkeepers shutting up. Flies buzzed over the water, black swarms coiling unpleasantly.

Most of them stopped as Sand rode in, watching him in polite silence, their stares raking him from head-to-toe.

He coughed nervously. “Um, hello?”

One of the fishers – a tall, dark woman– sighed heavily and jerked her thumb back the way he came. “If you’re looking for Mother Nylund, back to the red oak, take a left, and don’t get eaten.”

Sand blinked, wetting his suddenly dry lips. “I – “

“She’s a scary one, our Nylund. Last apprentice ran away crying.” The fisher grinned unpleasantly. “You look like one for crying.”

“Uh…” Sand scanned the faces of the crowd. To his slight relief, several of them were shaking their heads at the speaker, a few turning back to work. One of them – a stout, ragged old man in a multicoloured shirt – caught his eye and gave him a wink and a sly thumbs-up. The effect was slightly spoiled by him immediately taking a long drag from a bottle in his hand and spilling it on his collar.

“Are you deaf?”

Dragging his attention away from the ensuing scuffle as a shopkeeper stepped in to disarm the man of his alcohol, Sand said, “No. Thank you for the directions.”

As he urged Arta to turn, he heard the woman called, “Don’t worry, you’ll get used to the flies!”

The laughter, hopefully, wasn’t all aimed at him.

A few minutes and a stomach-churning second of believing he was lost later, Sand urged Arta towards a squat stone cottage overrun with ivy. A half-circle of a fence enclosed it in a front plot of tamped-down dirt with a chicken run and pen lurking by the edge, but by the smell wafting in the breeze, there had to be a massive herb garden around the back.

Dust boiled up over his feet as he slid lightly off her back and he steeled himself as he strode towards the front door. He raised his fist to knock –

And nearly fell into the hallway as someone yanked it open with considerable force. That same someone grabbed him by the collar and snapped, “Have you ever had a baby?”

“I – no – I’ve been sent from the College –“

“I know you’re from the College, man! Have you delivered a baby?”

Sand gaped. “Not yet, I’m –“

“Well, there’s a first time for everything and lucky you, it’s breech. Take this and get on your horse!”

[bodhrancomedy]

A Fantasy Story About Midwives Saying "Screw You" to Destiny by Bodhrán M.

Destiny is a woman.

There’s nothing much important about that particular aspect of Her. It wouldn’t make much difference to the world if the sparks that make up the goddess of human fate had decided that Her avatar should be male or genderless. After all, personality is more important than genitalia when you can shape them yourself and She would have been just as a much as an arsehole if She’d been a He.

The important part is that She made Herself a humanoid body and, with humanoid bodies, come humanoid thoughts.

Thoughts like, ‘I’m bored’ and ‘You know what might be fun?’

Gods aren’t worshipped here. They turn up too often and overstay their welcome: rather like that one friend at a party who didn’t bring any alcohol and is suddenly very insistent on trying out a watery interpretation of socialism. At best, the more conscientious ones get thank-you gifts. At worst, it’s a toxic relationship for whomever has caught their attention.

Priests tend to get friendly with the bottom of a glass by their third year in service.

Destiny doesn’t have priests. Contrary to popular belief, She doesn’t have much interest in everyday people either. If you were to be honest – preferably in the temple of another god She’d recently annoyed – Destiny’s plans are faint pencil sketches for most. Often, She gets bored and, apart from one or two big events, most people have blameless, simple lives.

But sometimes, She likes to leave a massive metaphorical rake across the lifespans of a significant number of people.

This is one of these times.

And here we meet Sandford Candles – Sand – riding towards the village of Westbank, blissfully unaware that it is going to be obliterated by the hand of fate before he has time to finish his residency.

He was a skinny, suntanned youth, old enough to grow a beard but so far completely unable to. His hair was the colour of wet straw and cut in the style of Not Able to Afford a Proper Barber. Stray tufts stuck up at irregular intervals and occasionally he attempted to flatten them with his hand, but since he had three out of five fingers, it was less successful than he obviously intended. He was clad in the junior uniform of the Royal College of Medicine – maroon breeches, cream tunic, sky-blue jerkin – which had never looked good on anyone who wasn’t colourblind and therefore did not look good on him.

It certainly didn’t look good after a few hours of being rained on, but it was telling that that hadn’t upset him. Sand moved through the world with the good humour of someone who has never yet had anything bad happen to him.

Besides, the last rays of the setting sun were shining down on him through the autumnal leaves, the birds were singing, and he could see signs of civilisation that suggested his destination wasn’t too much further. He was taking his first steps – or rather, Arta, his horse was carrying him – into the next chapter of his life and he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to make the best of it.

[tillthelandslide]

Insufferable Arsehole Part 5: Don't Fuck It, You Muppet - Matty Healy Series

A/n: Here's the next part, I'm really enjoying writing this series and I hope you are all enjoying it too. If you have any ideas about Lou x Matty don't hesitate to pop it into my asks or message me. Or if you have any questions, please don't hesitate to ask :) love you guys for all the support. Especially @poisonmedaddy13 💜

Warnings: smut at the end of the chapter and a fair bit of fluff too

Minors DNI

You can read all previous parts here: Series Masterlist

Part 4

The band had stopped at some petrol station in the middle of nowhere. She can't deny she's lost track of how many shows they've done or where they're performing next, they've been on tour for over 3 weeks now. The group were sat inside the tour bus, a few going off at scattered times to sleep. She didn't sleep very much at the best of times (it could've had something to do with the crazy amounts of coffee she drank), but something about touring, all the adrenaline, made it even harder for her to sleep.

So there she sat: leaning against the tour bus, a spliff that George had rolled for her, resting between her fingertips, something to help you sleep he had said. She knew it probably wouldn't help but at least it would calm her shot nerves for a bit. She had been overthinking and replaying everything that had happened between Matty and her.

She heard the door to the bus open before someone was shutting it gently. She looked up to see a sleepy looking Matty, clad in a pair of joggers and a beaten tee. He offered her a dazed smile, clearly he had only just woken up. The smell of him drifts through her nose, completely overtaking the smell of the weed she's smoking.

"Hey" he says, grunting as he attempted to sit down next to her. Their thighs were plush against each other, his heat radiating off him and drifting into her: she was suddenly feeling a little bit sleepy.

"Getting a bit too old to sit all the way down here love" he grunts again making her giggle, a noise that makes his lips stretch further.

"I love hearing you giggle" he admits. She just smiles at him, taking another puff before offering it to him, he declines and she frowns, that's not like him, she thinks.

"You good?" She asks and he nods, just smiling at her.

"Yeah I'm good. Just don't need it right now" he says and she nods, taking another puff, finishing the spliff before stubbing it out on the ground next to her.

"Why are you out here on your own?" He asks and she smirks.

"Well I'm not on my own now am I silly?" She smirks, her intrusive thoughts take over and she moves to hold the hand that had been resting against his thigh. He finds himself squeezing hers, wanting nothing more than to raise it to his lips, too much too soon he thinks.

Her eyes drift from their hands to the men across from them, their driver and Jamie, sitting at the small garage. They had clearly filled up the bus with petrol, maybe the driver needed a break, who knew? But she appreciated the much needed lull.

Her eyes are drifting shut as she leans her head back against the cold metal of the bus.

"Are you sure you're okay love?" He asks, his words muffled by her new sleep induced state. Maybe the weed worked after all, or maybe it was Matty's presence; this new, sweet and loving Matty: which suddenly made her feel unbelievably relaxed, his hand on hers, thumb running across the soft skin at the back of it.

"Hmm." she doesn't open her eyes but feels his eyes burning into her skin. Her eyes slowly drift open after a beat, seeing him all too clearly now. His eyebrows were furrowed in worry, she wanted to smooth her thumb over the lines that had formed there. His lip was in-between his teeth, gnawing it out of worry.

"I like seeing you like this" she admits, the high hitting her now. George always told her she was unwaveringly honest when she smoked weed, she was calm, but her words were always sincere when high. Maybe more sincere than usual.

"Like what?" His eyebrows still furrowed, lip still being chewed by his teeth. She leans forward, the hand that was unoccupied moving to pluck his lips from his teeth.

"All worried about me" she says and he chuckles, smiling down at her.

"And why's that?" He asks and her eyes are fluttering shut again, this time her head lands on his shoulder. He looks down at his shoulder, smiling at the sight.

"Means you do care about me" her words hit his heart and he leans forward, pressing a kiss against the top of her head. She wants nothing more than to be awake now, just so she can ask for another kiss. But her eyes struggle to stay open.

"Sleep love" he says, and she doesn't hear another word from him, or anything around her.

A while later she finds herself waking, suddenly in her bunk, she adorns George's jumper still, feeling incredibly cozy. She wonders how she got here, Matty must have carried her: the thought has her smiling to herself.

She hears movement coming from another bunk and slowly opens the curtain of hers to see who it was.

"We're here love. Matty made you a coffee" George says and she smiles up at him.

"Give me a few minutes yeah?" She asks and George nods. She removes herself from her bunk, collecting her things and going to get changed. She couldn't wait until they got into the hotel, a hot shower was definitely needed.

She quickly gets changed and makes herself more presentable, finally removing yesterday's make up, leaving her fresh-faced. She then finds the rest of the group, waiting outside the bus. Matty stands with two cups of coffee, offering her one very quickly upon seeing her.

"Thank you" she smiles, coming to stand inbetween him and George, their shoulders brushing. George wraps his warm around her and she leans in to him, making her move away from Matty slightly, she doesn't miss the quick frown that rests on his face before the previous smile is returning.

"Sleep well?" He asks and everyone's looking at the both of them then, not that she cares. She looks up at him, a smile on her face that makes everyone else smile.

"Amazingly" she says and he smiles down at her, no one else really knows what on earth there smiling at but the sight was nice. Everyone else begins talking about whatever else and she continues looking at Matty.

"Thank you" she mouths, referring to putting her to bed and the coffee.

"You're welcome"

She takes a sip from the coffee and practically moans at the taste.

"Alright Lou calm down" George says, looking down at her and they all laugh.

"What?!! It tastes nice!" She says, lightly hitting her best friend for teasing her. The group break out in laughter and she feels so happy, the worries of yesterday completely slipping her mind.

The noise does other things to Matty and she smirks upon seeing the look in his eyes.

"Okay guys let's get a move on" Jamie says. The group are quick to gather their things, making their way to their hotel rooms. Every single one of them knew that soon enough they'd all be in the same room anyway, it's what always happened. They never knew why Jamie booked multiple rooms.

Lou is quick to jump in the shower, soaking up the heat. She gets changed thereafter, the city they were in today was colder than the rest so she changed into a white jumper, a black skirt with a pair of tights and making sure to wear her usual leather jacket.

She got a text from George explaining that they were in Matty's room. They actually didn't have a show until the next day so decided to have a chill day with each other. The first of this tour.

She text back saying she was going to have a quick smoke before joining them.

She found her way out of the hotel, a security guard following her: a demand of Jamie's.

She goes to light her cigarette but hears her name being called. A group of three girls are walking towards her and the security guard gets defensive. She raises her hand at him, letting her know it's okay.

"Are we okay to say hello?" One of them asks sweetly.

"Of course!" She says cheerfully, wanting them to feel welcome. The girls come closer and Lou is quick to accept their hugs. She tucks the cigarette on top of her ear, before signing things they had brought along with them. She for one didn't mind a few fans coming to their hotel to say hello, but when they were swarmed it was a tad overwhelming. They appreciated their dedication and love regardless.

"How are you guys?" She asks them and each girl speaks, she smiles listening to them. They have a conversation about various things the girls asking Lou questions about the tour and the guys.

"We love your band don't get us wrong!! But you work really well with the 1975!" They explain and she smiles at their words.

"Thank you! I'm having the best time, I do miss my band though, they're a lot less chaotic than the boys" she jokes making them laugh.

The girls expressions change when the door next to them opens, revealing Matty. She can tell they're trying to keep cool and she smiles at them.

"Thought you'd be out here" Matty says, lighting his cigarette before his hand is grazing her back before seeing the girls in front of her.

"Hi!" He says, hand dropping from her back, not going unnoticed by the girls. Matty then hugs them before taking some pictures.

The group talks to the both of them, handing Lou a small bouquet of flowers she didn't even realise one of them were holding, a giving Matty a shirt that says "I hate Matty Healy" which makes all of them laugh before they say their goodbyes.

"They love you" Matty says and she lights her own cigarette.

They smoke together chatting about this and that before they're heading back to his hotel room to meet the rest of the group.

Matty ushers the security guard that had followed Lou away, Lou handing him the flowers and Matty handing over the tee before they enter the elevator. Matty clicks the number to his floor. His eyes find hers and he feels the air knock from his lungs.

"How come you get away without having security follow you everywhere?" She asks.

He's suddenly realising how especially pretty she is today.

"Love you look gorgeous" he breathes out, his words shocking her.

Her body finds his with one gentle pull his way. His hand is light against her waist, she can barely feel it but she can feel an almost electric sensation where it rests.

His other hand rests against her jaw, holding her gently, as if he's going to break her.

"Is this okay? I know I haven't even started showing you how sorry I am but I can't help myself-" he gets cut off by her lips against his. His hand grips her waist tighter now and she gasps against his lips.

"You think too much" she laughs against his mouth making him chuckle too. His craving for her feels slightly sedated now, with her soft lips pressed against his, his tongue softly making its way into her mouth to caress her awaiting one. The kiss is different than any they've shared before and she's the one that feels addicted now.

"I like when you kiss me like this" she murmurs against his mouth, he breaks away momentarily, her lips chasing his making him smirk.

He places a few pecks against her mouth as his fingertips drift over her freckled cheeks.

"Think I like you most like this" he says, making her eyebrows furrow.

"You're beautiful no matter what love. But seeing you like this reminds me of when we were younger. No make up, just you. Absolutely stunning" he says before he's pressing his lips against hers again, she has no time to respond and before they know it the ding of the elevator is letting them know they're at their floor.

The ding isn't what pulls them apart unfortunately, it's the groan of their best friend that makes them jump apart. George stands there, hand covering his eyes, groaning to himself. Matty and Lou can't help but laugh.

"Fucking hell... Was wondering what was taking yous so long" he says still covering his eyes.

"Stop being so dramatic" Lou says, shoving her best friend as she walks past him "we have to put up with you and Charli making out all the time" she says before she's walking off to Matty's room.

George removes his hand from his eyes, spotting his friend leaning against the elevator wall, a huge shit eating grin resting against his lips.

George smiles at this before he speaks "looks good on you mate" Matty frowns, not knowing what he's talking about.

"You, looking happy. Looks good" he says and Matty walks up to him then, clasping a hand on his back as they began to walk.

"Thanks mate"

"Just cut down on the making out please... Feels weird seeing my best mates suck face" he says making Matty laugh.

"You'll have to talk to her about that I'm afraid" he says, the two men laughing loudly.

Upon entering the room, Matty sees Lou resting in Charli's lap on a large love seat, the two girls giggling about something. George smiles at his two favorite girls before he's plonking himself down next to them, hooking an arm around the pair.

"You've got such ridiculously long arms G, it's weird" Lou says, the large man begins tickling her, making her get up from Charli's lap, making the other girl frown, kicking her boyfriend.

"Jealous much" Charli says before she takes her boyfriend in for a hug.

Matty begins talking to Hann and Carly, so her eyes land on Ross who pats the spot next to him on the sofa he's sat on. Matty's eyes catch hers as she sits next to Ross, whose arm hooks over her shoulders now. He feels no jealousy now as he looks over the pair, in fact he wants nothing more than to join them.

"How's your day going hmm?" Ross smirks at her, knowing something was up, especially given the blush that arises to her cheeks.

"It's good" she says and he laughs.

"I bet it is" he says, innuendo laced in his words.

"Shut up" she says, shoving his large shoulders as the pair laugh. They're both aware it's only been two days but the look Ross gives her let's her now he's happy for her.

Matty excuses himself from his conversation he was having and walks over to the pair "room for one more?" Matty asks and they both stare up at him.

"Of course" Lou says, looking over at Ross who smiles before nodding. Matty launches himself over the pair making them both laugh. Before he can get too comfortable, Lou's phone is ringing in her pocket.

"Shit, sorry" she says, awkwardly getting her phone out given that Matty was splayed across their laps.

"I've got to take this" she says, eyebrows furrowing. Matty's ears prick up at this, moving off them so she can stand. She quickly leaves the room and he sits back down next to Ross, wondering to himself what it was about.

She answers the phone and hears her manager on the other side of the line.

"Hello you wonderful human" he says. Now Lou's manager, Gregg, was one of the nicest people (alongside Jamie) that she had met in the industry. She was like her father at this point. But sometimes he cared, a little too much, and this was one of these times.

"Hi, everything okay?" She says, worry laced in her voice.

"Why do you sound worried? As if I can't just call you to check up on you" he says and she chuckles.

"Yeah sure. What's up?" She asks.

"Jamie said you haven't been sleeping much" he says and she feels her eyes rolling. "and you've been spending a lot of time with Matty, since when did you like him? Last time we spoke you said, and I quote: "he's an insufferable arsehole" he says and she chuckles. Barely any time has passed and Jamie's already grassed on the pair

"I actually had a great night sleep thank you very much. You know me, touring and sleep don't go hand in hand but I'll be fine" she says ignoring the Matty bit for now.

"I do know you. Very well in fact. And I know that you will burn yourself out if you don't sleep" he says and she groans. She knows he's right but like a stubborn daughter she finds her eyes rolling again.

"Yes I know" "good" he says.

"So Matty?" He asks and she seriously thought she had avoided it.

"It kind of just happened" she explains.

"What happened?"

"Nothing much really. Not yet. But I don't hate him now, he's actually... Quite bearable" she explains, keeping her cards close to her chest.

"Okay... Well I know you've got George to defend you, but I will kill him if he hurts you" he says and she sighs.

"I don't need defending Gregg. I can deal with whatever happens okay?"

"Okay. We miss you, call us more yeah?" He says and then they finish up their conversation. She goes to open up the door, hearing the boys talk in hush tones.

"I'm happy for you mate, I really am. We are all. Just don't fuck it up okay?" She hears George say.

"I dont intend on fucking it up. Have I given you any indication whatsoever since we last spoke that I was going to fuck it up?" She hears Matty say and then G groans.

"No" George says.

"He's just saying mate" Ross says, defending G.

"I know he's 'just saying'. But it's fucking annoying. I don't think either of you realise how fucking serious I am about her. When I said I'd prove how sorry I am... How I feel about her, how I've always felt about her. I fucking meant it. Look I know I'm not sincere very often but I'm trying okay?" She hears him say, he sounds a bit miffed at his friends and she wants to go in and hug him but she feels a bit awkward now, if she entered now it would be obvious she had been listening in.

"Im sorry mate, I'm just trying to look out for you... And her, she's like my sister" George says.

"I know! But right now, you don't need to look out for either of us. What happened to earlier? When you said happiness looks good on me?"

"It does"

"Then maybe butt out for a bit yeah?" She hears him say, she hears the boys call after him, he must've gone somewhere else. She walks in then, eyes finding both the boys who look like two dears in a headlight.

"Did you hear all of that?" Ross says and she knows there's no point lying, she nods and both of their expressions soften.

"Sorry" they say in unison.

"I don't know what everyone's problem is at the moment: you two, Gregg... But I'm a grown woman and I can deal with my shit myself okay?" She says firmly, making both the boys nod up at her, not wanting to say another word.

"the day so far has been pretty awesome. So don't ruin it." Another nod from the pair. "Now where did Matty go?" She asks and they both point to the balcony.

"Figures" she laughs before walking out on the balcony.

"Hey" she says softly upon seeing him. His head snaps towards hers, his features softening when he realises it's her.

"Oh hi... Sorry, thought you were g or Ross" he says, turning his attention back to his cigarette.

"It's okay..." She says, coming to lean against the balcony, next to him, their shoulders resting against one another.

"You okay?" She asks softly, lightly bumping her shoulder against his. He turns his attention back to her, offering her a small nod.

"I will be..."

"You know I heard what they said right?" She asks, hand finding his back.

"I didn't" he laughs, hand running through his hair in worry. He didn't know what her reaction would be, would she be annoyed at what he said? Would should like that he defended himself and his feelings towards her?

"I appreciate what you said though" she says, leaning forward to place several soft kisses against his cheeks, making him giggle.

"I like it when you're sincere" she says, pulling back to look at him.

"Yeah... Me too" he says and she smiles at him, he doesn't smile back at first, clearly still annoyed at the two men.

"Don't let them ruin it. We've had a good day so far right?" She asks and he nods.

"Especially the part in the elevator" she says, trying to get him to smile.

"Yeah I liked that part" he says, flicking his cigarette off the balcony before his hands pull her into his chest, lips pressing against her forehead.

"I'm not going to fuck this up okay? I know it must be confusing for you, I mean I acted like I hated you for years and then suddenly I'm confessing my feelings towards you... just didn't want to lose you. But I'm serious about this" He asks and for whatever reason, she truly believes him.

"I know" she says simply, leaning up to kiss him, a gentle kiss, just her lips massaging against his softly.

"I'm never going to get used to that" he says as she pulls away.

"Well you better because I don't plan on stopping anytime soon" she says making him laugh, pulling her closer to him and bridging the gap between their lips again.

She tasted sweet like strawberries, mixed with tobacco and he couldn't pull himself away. Especially when her hands found his hair, pulling gently at the strands.

They heard a car beep from below and he pulled away, suddenly aware they were on a balcony, where anyone could see.

"Someone could see us" he says when she leans back in, pressing her lips back to his.

"Let them see" she sighs against his mouth, tongue meeting his, the couple fighting for dominance, in which he won.

"Baby" he says and she moans at the nickname.

"Say that again" she says, gripping his shirt in her hands, needing him closer, the bottom of his hiking up to reveal part of his stomach.

"Baby we should stop" he says and she feels sense come back to her brain.

"You're right" she says, taking a step back, laughing at his disheveled appearance.

"Sorry about that" she says, soothing her hands down her jumper, chuckling to herself at the lack of control she just showed.

"Never be sorry" he says, pulling her into a corner of the balcony that was fairly covered from the public eye.

"Thought you said we should stop" she chuckles as his lips smear against her neck.

"I can't stop around you" his lips continue to smear against her neck, bruising the skin: the make up team were going to hate her later.

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

Matty brings the shirt on stage that the fans they met yesterday gave to him, during the second half of their set.

"Yesterday, Lou and I met some lovely fans. They gave Lou some pretty flowers..." He begins "perfectly fitting" he says without the microphone just so she could hear in her in ears. "And they gave me this shirt" he says, revealing the fabric to their audience.

Matty holding the "I hate Matty Healy" shirt was displayed on the screens next to the stage, so everyone could see. The crowd screams and goes absolutely mental making them all laugh.

"Thought you might want to wear it love" he says, the nickname slipping out without a second thought, not that she bothered to care. He was teasing her but she wouldn't back down now.

"Seems appropriate" she says into her microphone before he's passing it to her.

She throws it over the top of the shirt she was wearing, although Matty secretly hoped she would take the shirt off, not that he wanted everyone to see that, just himself.

The crowd goes crazy again and they all laugh. They continue their set, Lou wearing the shirt throughout the whole show.

The time came for their final bows, the boys all exchanged the same look as Lou began to walk off stage, before George was running towards her, hooking his arm around her shoulder and pulling her back on stage, making the crowd go crazy.

"What are you doing?" She asks as she's met with Matty and the rest.

"You're as much a part of this band now as the rest of us" Matty says, the sweet sentiment making her tear up a little.

"Don't you go crying on us now" Ross says, pointing a finger towards her, she wipes the tears from her eyes as she laughs.

"Come on" Adam says, hooking his arm around Ross and George, Matty hooked his arm around Lou before they all shared a quick group hug, before turning back to the crowd and bowing.

Lou then left the guys to do their individual waves to the crowd before one by one they left, Matty leaving the stage last.

She waited on the side lines for him, every single one of the guys smirking at her as they went past (not without hugging her tightly first).

Matty then came running back to her, scooping her up into a tight hug, making her giggle as her feet left the ground.

"That was the fucking best" he says, putting her down and looking her deeply in the eyes.

"You're the fucking best" he says, pulling her into him again.

"So are you Matthew Healy. So are you" she's the one to pull him closer now, gripping his shirt tightly as she stands on her tiptoes, pressing her lips to his.

All the air left in his lungs seems to leave him and he quickly grasps her waist, attempting to steady himself.

"Wait... Lou" he says making her reluctantly pull away to look at him.

"What's up?" She asks, worry sketched across her features. His eyebrows furrow too, almost copying hers.

"I haven't even begun to show you how sorry I am...." He says, fingertips playing with the hem of her shirt as he hesitates over his next words. She's about to tell him he can say whatever is on his mind and she wants him too, but he speaks before she gets the chance.

"Don't want you thinking... Thinking I'm like.... Using you or something" his words are jumbled and very casual considering it's Matty, but she knows he's like this when he's nervous.

She laughs a soft laugh as she looks up at him, his eyes flutter as she slowly leans up to kiss him, just once, a sweet and firm one.

"How about...." She says, pulling away from him, one hand resting against his chest, one on his jaw. He sees her eyes darken and he knows he couldn't resist her even if he tried. Her lips find his neck, pressing and sucking against the flesh there before finding the shell of his ear.

He doesn't expect her mouth to take it in, neither does he expect the profane groan that falls from his lips as she sucks it before whispering her next words.

"You take me into your changing room and show me how sorry you are" she says and he can't stop himself from grasping her, swinging her over his shoulder and taking them to his changing room.

They pass the boys, Lou waves at them as she giggles, a smirk rests on Matty's face and Ross and Adam cheer and laugh as George groans.

"At least try to keep it down" they hear George shout as Matty skillfully opens the door, before slamming it shut.

He's setting her on her feet before lightly pressing her against the wall.

"I'm not going to break Matty" she says and his grip tightens then, forcing himself to stand in-between her hips. His hips press against hers and she moans, the sound slipping into his mouth, tongue playing with hers as her hands grasp his hair.

"Baby" he groans as she tugs at the curls.

"Hmm" she moans against his mouth, parting their lips briefly before he's taking a step back.

He stares at her for a few moments, smirking and shaking his head to himself.

"Forgot you were wearing that top" he says making her look down at the fabric. Her fingertips find the hem of it but before she can tug it over her head his fingers are stopping her movements.

"Keep it on" he says, voice deep: barely a grumble, but the noise awakens something inside her and she's pushing herself off the wall, capturing his lips with hers. They move quickly against each other and he can't believe how bad he wants her, but he is yet to prove his words.

"Slow down love, we've got all the time in the world" he says, pulling away from her slightly, pressing featherlight kisses around her face, making her giggle.

He pulls back to look at her again, not able to get enough. She pouts at him and makes grabby hands making him chuckle.

"Want you to fuck me" she admits and he throws his head back and groans. He wants that so badly but right now he needed to prove how sorry he was and he only knew one way he could truly do that.

"Trust me love, we will get to that" he says and she sighs as she pouts again. He steps forward again, grasping the edges of her skirt. He looks deeply into her eyes as he pushes the fabric upwards so it's resting against her hips, revealing her black lace underwear.

"You're so fucking gorgeous" he says and her breath falters as the curly haired man drops to his knees in front of her. His next words nearly have her cumming on the spot.

"Let me worship you" he says and she throws her head back in a moan as his swollen lips press against her inner thighs. Her hands quickly weave into his hair, interwoven in the strands as she tugs at them, needing more of him.

"Baby I'm so sorry" he says, and a kiss is delivered to her clothed centre: she gasps.

"Want to show you how sorry I am, will you let me show you how sorry I am?" He murmurs against her covered core, the vibrations making her arch against the wall.

She's nodding and although he sees her through his eyelashes he needs to hear her say it.

"Need to hear you love" he says and she's quickly moaning out a "please Matty" and that's all he truly needs before he's tugging her underwear down her legs. He helps her step out of it and she chuckles as he stuffs them into his back pocket, smirking up at her before delving in.

He starts with a soft kiss to her clit, loving the way such a simple act has her eyes fluttering shut. They snap open as he pulls back, stopping his movements all together.

"There's a good girl, keep those beautiful eyes open for me, think you can do that yeah? Need you to see how sorry I am" he says and she's nodding harshly, wanting nothing more than to have him on her again. He lowers his lips to her centre again, another kiss being placed against her swollen bud.

He presses kiss after kiss on her clit, around her thighs and over her mound, her hands are pressing against the back of his head, wanting more friction from the heavenly looking man in-between her thighs.

"Matty please" she begs again, his eyes find hers and he knows he's done for.

"Okay love, just wanted to love on you for a second" he says making her smile down at him. The smile drops from her face not a second later as another kiss is pressed against her clit. This time his tongue splays out flat across the surface and he sucks. He smirks as her hands fly back to his hair.

He sucks the bundle of nerves harshly, whispering "I'm sorry" in-between every suck that's delivered.

She goes to beg for more but her prayers are answered as his tongue makes a few calculated swipes across her folds, dipping into her core at the last moment.

"Fuck Matty" she moans, she had always thought that Matty looked like a good kisser and of course that had been confirmed. But never in the time she had known him had she thought he would be this good at giving head. She had heard rumours when they were younger, she had thought they were just the mutterings of desperate girls, but now, with the same boy she used to shamefully fantasise about, in-between her thighs, eating her up like she was honey: she knows for a fact they were right.

"Taste so good sweetheart, going to let me have more of you?" He asks moaning into her dripping cunt, making her spasm at the vibrations.

All she can do is nod down at him. He doesn't do anything and she knows he wants to hear her again.

"Take it, take it all" she says, not making my sense in her own mind but that's all he needs to hear before his tongue is plunging into her, curling up inside her and hitting her soft spot.

Her moans are loud now but neither of them care.

"So sorry love" he speaks in-between strokes of his tongue "don't know how you ever could've thought I hated you". A swipe of his tongue, a moan from her, a suck on her clit, a tug of his hair.

"You're too fucking amazing to hate" he admits and she trashes against the wall, the pleasure almost too much to bare. His words were only making her pleasure more intense and their unbroken eye contact had her moaning his name like a mantra.

"I'm sorry" he says again, before his tongue is curling into her again.

"Matty" she says and he knows she needs more.

"What do you need baby?" He asks and her eyes are fluttering shut before opening to look at him again. The sight is devilish, his curls are a mess on top of his head, his lips were swollen and glistening with her juices and his eyes were the darkest she had ever seen them. Her eyes wandered down for a moment, seeing a clear bulge resting against his trousers: he was enjoying this.

"Need your fingers" she admits and he gets back to work, sucking on her clit as his fingers spread over her folds, teasing her before one dips in. It's the first time he's had his fingers in her and he knows he'll be addicted to this too: what with the way she's saying his name and begging for more.

"Fucking hell" he murmurs against her "so fucking tight"

The feeling was euphoric, she had always been obsessed with his hands, how large, calloused and veiny they were, especially when he played guitar, but having his long fingers dip inside her pulsating walls had her moaning louder now. He curved his finger into her before adding another one, his tongue working on her clit.

"Matty" she sighs, her moans stopping as her mouth hung open. He could tell she was close by that simple fact. She was so blissed out she could no longer moan, all she could do was chant his name as he chanted an aray of "I'm sorry's" and "could never have hated yous". She grasps his curls tightly in her hands, pushing his head further into her, making him moan around her clit.

"Let go, for me love" he says "want to taste you" he admits and that's all it takes before she's spasming against the wall, her eyes snapping shut as she tips over the edge.

"Matty" his name is drawn out and he swears it's the best thing he's ever heard, it has him moaning against her as she coats his tongue in her juices.

His moaning at the taste of her, sweet like honey.

He's quick to support her now slaking body, standing from in-between her thighs to hold her waist tightly, kissing her neck and lips lightly as she came down from her high.

Her legs were like jelly and she was undeniably grateful he was holding her up.

"You with me love?" He asks and she nods into his neck, pressing her own kisses to his warm skin.

"You're really fucking good at that" she says, unintentionally stroking his ego.

"Yeah?" He says, smirking down at her as she moves from her place in his neck. His hard on is pressing against her thigh and she can't help but let her eyes drift down.

"Don't worry about me love" he says, fingers pressing against her chin so she's looking at him. He grasps her chin and pulls her gently towards him, several soft, loving kisses being pressed against her lips, making her sigh against him. The rough, fast or harsh kisses were euphoric but those soft ones he delivered to her mouth had her heart pounding at a hundred miles per hour.

"Trust me I haven't even started showing you how sorry I am, that was just a start" he admits and she smiles against his lips.

"Okay...." She drifts off, handing diving down his chest to rest against his lower abdomen, feeling his v-lines through his shirt.

"But.. how about for now" she says, sucking his neck, his ear, anything she could press her lips against "I show you how thankful I am" she says and he groans as her hands cup him through his trousers.

"You don't have to thank me love" he says, although he'd love nothing more than for her to get him off.

"Oh I want to" she says, her sultry tone has him twitching under her palm.

"Fuck" he says, smashing his lips back to hers. They're rudely interrupted by a knock on the door and they both groan as they're forced to pull apart.

"You too need to stop fucking because we need to leave" they hear George say.

They pull apart, Matty adjusting himself to hide his erection as she tugs her skirt back down. He goes to offer her underwear to her but she simply smirks before opening the door and walking out, tugging him with her, forcing him to quickly stuff them back into his trousers before anyone saw.

He shakes his head at her before they walk hand in hand, following the boys to the cars that wait for them outside. Their hands drop from each other's as they see a collection of fans standing opposite their cars, they all wave a smile at them before getting into the vehicle.

Part 6

[gottalovetumbler]

𝓓𝓪𝔂 8

ᵏᵉᵉᵍᵃⁿ/ᵛᵉˡⁱᵏᵃⁿ ˣ ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ

Info: Fem!Reader, Lots of cussing this chapter, also some angst, maybe?, idk, idc

——— 💧:( ———

Anger was a nasty itch that’s impossible to scratch without revenge, everyone knew that. Annoyance though? Annoyance was a parasite. It clung to a host and slowly made its way through the nervous system, making itself known every inch it grew.

That, that is why you’ve been holed up in your room for just about four days straight. You and Nikolai ended up bickering the whole drive (2 minutes) back to base. It was kinda fun at first but eventually he began getting under your skin. Saying shit with a purposefully thicker accent that had you confused and Captain Price chuckling. If there’s one thing you fucking hate, it’s being the butt of a joke you don’t get.

Sure, Val, Rudy and Ale teased you, hell they grilled you for almost 30 minutes straight to tell them who had the worst accent. (It’s definitely Rudy but you didn’t wanna hurt his feelings so you stayed silent) But Atleast you were in on the joke. It had even felt nice, like you were with not just friends but family again. Where you don’t have to be ashamed of your struggles understanding because instead of a flaw, they see it as a part of you.

But that fucking asshole Nikolai. Purposefully making remarks that only he and Price knew and laughing straight in your face after. No remorse, just amusement. To be honest though, that wasn’t the worst part. The worst part was that Captain Price didn’t even try and help you.

He’s the one that brought the damn thing up in the first place and then, he left you to burn. You and him weren’t the closest ever, you knew that. But still, not only had you known him for a decent time, he’s also a Captain. A superior. And he essentially let you get bullied right in his back seat.

Ok well not bullied, that’s a bit overdramatic. But it still stung. What stung more though was honestly just the fact that it had bothered you so much. Like you don’t even know the man’s first name for fucks sake and here you are upset that he wasn’t backing you up? Fucking pathetic.

So that would be why your holes up in your room. Calling out of your shifts was easy enough, using the “just got out of the hospital” excuse really worked. And luckily, due to laziness, you have a 24 pack of water and enough snacks so you haven’t had to leave your room at all. Thank God for connected bathrooms too.

The clock reads 19:35 when the banging starts up on your door, again. For the past 3, now 4, days straight at exactly 19:35, Johnny has come around and tried getting you out of your room. The first day he was sympathetic.

‘A'm sorry bonnie. He kin be an arsehole sometime’. Ah promise he didnae mean anythin' by it. We all think yer fear is adorable, na no one ever mak's fun o' ye fur it. Ah promise.’

‘BULLSHIT!’ You had yelled back, that was the first and only time you’ve responded since. Was this a stupid hill to die on? Yes, yes it was. Are you still gonna die on it? Yes, yes you are.

Over the days he grew more and more impatient and it seems today he’s gotten to the banging and yelling stage. Yelling about how he and Gaz really miss you. And the Rudy keeps asking about you, he, Val and Ale are on a mission somewhere right now, and that of your still locked up when he gets back he’s breaking down the door.

The only reason Soap hasn’t done that exact thing yet is the fact that if he did, he’d be automatically terminated and dishonorably discharged. Seeing as you willingly talk to the medical staff, a break in couldn’t be excused by a supposed “wellness check”

He finally stops trying at 20:15, promising to be back at the same time the next day. Swearing that he’ll wear you down, no matter what. And so as sleep pills on your eyelids, you tuck in and pass out.

It’s only 2:45 when you wake, confused as to why you glance around and freeze. Standing in the far right corner of your room is a man, not moving, not speaking, just standing. You’re about to scream when the carpet to your left crunches. Slowly you look over and there’s a second man, of course there fucking is, standing maybe 2 feet away, also staring.

OH MY FUCKING GO-

‘You’re fine.’

I’m sorry,’What?’

‘I said, you’re fine. We aren’t going to do anything to you, just making sure you’re breathing.’

The man standing 2 feet away removes his weird as goggles things as he crouches down to your level.

‘See Vel, told you she’s fine. Now you can tell psychopath 1 and 2 to fuck off.’

With that he stands and makes his way to the door. The man in the far corner follows, not speaking a word. As he steps out of the shadows you see he’s also wearing a mask, one with a sharp-toothed mouth decorating the front.

‘I’m sorry but what the fuck was that?’

‘Like I said kid, just makin sure you’re alive. Now when you wake back up ima couple hours, leave the damn room and show everyone else you’re alive. If you don’t, I’m gonna send him,’ he juts his thumb to the silent Vel, ‘and you don’t want him to come and get you. Now have a good night and i better see you at lunch at the latest. I wanna watch as Nikolai and John apologize. It’ll be like watching the sun explode, once in a life time.’

With that, both men exit and shut your door, somehow relocking it from the outside. Welp, Atleast you now know another fellow American. Bringing the grand to total toooooo…. 3.

——— 💧:( ———

[scrumptiousstuffs]

Only Friends, Episode 6 - Happy F@#king birthday

In which we see Ray’s self-combust while leaving a trail of destruction, Sand showing his darker side, Ton continues to be an arsehole and Mew finally knows the truth

Sand

This episode more than anything depicts how complex human nature can be. Sand (who so far has been shown as someone with integrity) reached a breaking point. We know he is street smart, cares for his mom, and has basically fallen for Ray. We also know to some extent he cares for Nick. But the recent revelations of Ton/Top shenanigans, followed by Ton’s outing Ray on the latter’s feelings about Mew on his birthday plus Ray’s ambiguous comments about their relationship (not that I blame Ray or Sand specifically - the latter never made it clear he wanted more and the former is still hung up on Mew) have made Sand at edge. And then we have Sand deliciously tense confrontation with Top in hospital, where we sees while Top may have changed for Mew but remains arrogant to everyone else, and as per Sand “a prick.” With Top reminding Sand where he sits at the ladder (the bottom), it’s truly a sight to see Sand being calculative (but also in my personal opinion, it’s his way to make sure Ray/Nick being cut off from Ton (plus Top) because they are arseholes) - deliberately destroying his phone (when he doesn’t have lots of cash to begin with), manipulating Nick AND Ray to set off a catastrophic cascade of effects with the latter’s alcohol/substance abuse(s) playing a huge role on what truly was an explosive scene during Mew’s party.

Nevertheless, we sees his caring nature comes into play again. Sand was the only one out of everyone in the party to come after Ray, and despite Ray continuos lashing on Sand (the former trying to physically and emotionally pushing the latter away), he still chased after Ray, worried that the latter will hurt himself with his drunk driving.

Ray

My disaster muffin 😩😫….despite his many flaws, Ray at baseline is an honest person. We know he loves/cherish his friendship with Mew. And I truly believes he is starting to like Sand (also slowly growing to trust and loves him too. At the very least, Sand is the first person outside Mew who treats him more than an inconvenient and seems to truly care for him).

Yes, Ray is immature, but he only really acted whenever he perceived (or being manipulated) to think Mew is in danger. He kissed Mew impulsively when Ton suggested Top is only interested in playing around with Mew. And when he tries moving on, Ton again brought up his feelings for Mew. Even then, he didn’t act out (just giving death stares to Ton in class and during their hangouts), until Sand calculatively informed him of Top/Ton transgression. Again rather than telling Mew straight up, he confronted Ton first (unfortunately hot-headedly), which makes it easy for Ton to control the narratives by playing on Ray’s insecurities and emotions - accusing Ray of wanting Mew/Top to break up so that he can play a hero (which again I don’t think it’s true - I feel Mew has made it abundantly clear Ray will only be a cherished bestie and Ray accepted it - with sadness but he does!), but for Ton to keep putting salt on the wounds, it’s upsetting to see on Ray’s part.

I am not surprised with how Ray self-destruct during Mew’s party. He has suppressed his views and feelings for so long - Ton keeps making snide remarks, Cheum despite being kind and cheerful (as a default mode) has also always thought of him as a drunken fool, Top with his smug “I win” face, and even Mew whose automatic mode whenever he sees Ray is to mother him (thinking that he is either drunk or doing hard drugs, which although comes from a good place doesn’t really help Ray’s fragile self-esteem). And so, when you include Ray’s medicating himself with alcohol (and maybe drugs) into the equation - his inhibitions have gone out of the window. What he actually said during his drunken mess is NOT wrong (except his accusation on Sand being a gold digger - but even then, remember - their relationship started of as transactional and so, it’s easy for Ray to turn on default mode and lash out on Sand) - but the way he said it and timing of all it, well…we saw the trail of destructions he left in his wake.

His relationship with Sand took a setback this episode. Sand never made it clear what he wanted from Ray (from an outsider POV, it’s clear he wants more; even Sand’s wise mom could see it. But Sand is wary, probably a combo of his last broken relationship, destroyed by Top and Ray himself declaring multiple times they are “just friends”). Ray at least has told up front he thinks Sand as friends with benefits. The only point he has never told Sand (before the end of last episode) was his unrequited feelings for Mew. And it’s not something Ray needed to tell Sand. It’s personal and they are still at the stage of just getting to know each other. Anyway, I am in dire need for my sweet SandRay vibes back 😩😫 (and from next week preview, I’m hopefully going to get my wish)

(On the side note, Khaotung beautifully portrayed a broken, alcoholic mess. People with drug/alcohol addictions often hurt and lashed out on their family and friends. They also turn into the worst versions of themselves. So, while I’m still hurting from this episode, I am in awe with Khaotung’s acting 👌)

Boston

Ton continues to be unredeemable for me. He is unrepentant, selfish and unscrupulous. The way he manipulates Ray and Nick is masterful (definitely a politician son, and also the way his dad is proud of Ton’s many one night stands???, let just say I can see why Ton is the way he is!) - the way he spitefully jabbed on Ray when the latter confronts him regarding the whole Top/Ton situation to the way he playfully (and seductively) placates Nick when the latter attempts to firstly confronts his terrible behaviour in outing Ray/Mew in front of Sand (even then he blames the weed cookie rather than himself) and secondly when Nick found out Ton is likely going to move to New York after university.

He is also hypocritical. He doesn’t like being filmed without consent (fair enough, nobody should be filmed/photographed without consent). But for him to say it when he has been doing the exact same thing all this time…urgh, what an arsehole.

And to the end he remains consistent with his personality - not a hint of remorse when Ray drunkenly tried to expose him. Nor a shred of guilt when Nick tried to show solidarity with Ton by embracing him. Just Ton pushing Nick away (which tells you so much about who is in Ton’s mind - HIMSELF)

This is the one character I am hoping karma will come and hunt him!

(I despise him as a character but Neo as Ton is delicious to see. You can tell Neo has fun playing a despicable villain as a change from his usual roles. So, kudos to him and I hope we can see more of him in 2024, sinking into more meaty roles!)

Nick

Everytime I see him on screen, I winced. Ton has him in hook and reads him like a book. It doesn’t help Nick loves Ton and despite knowing Ton’s callous nature, Nick accepts this, making leeway to Ton’s behaviours. I want him to learn he is worth more than Ton because for now, he is moulding himself to make sure Ton never lose interest in him (and if that means ignoring all the red flags 🚩 that are waving madly in front of him, then so be it 😣). From what we see in the trailer, he breaks down in front of Sand with Sand reiterating what an arsehole Ton is (I assumed it may be related to Nick confirming Sand stole the video recording as we Nick clueing on it when he got back his phone). We see time after time, other people (Top, Ray and even Ton himself) also warning Nick about Ton. But love is truly blind, and I wonder what will be the breaking point for Nick - the one that will finally make him break free off Ton (maybe it’s Papang’s character?)

Top

In my opinion, he truly likes Mew (not sure about love yet, but they are getting there). He is trying hard to change - in his own word “a better version of himself.” The problem is, he is only a better version FOR Mew. I can see why Mew falls for him - he is sweet, attentive and basically the perfect gentleman/boyfriend that any person can ask for. However, as we can see, other than Mew - Top is just his usual self, arrogant and used to getting his own ways. He is dismissive towards Ray (and forever lording on the fact he won Mew, like Mew is a prize rather than an individual). Similarly, he belittles Sand (Top is never going to be a person who apologises except to Mew), again emphasising how he always gets what he wants, reminding Sand where he stands in the pecking order. He loathes Boston (fair enough) and in my opinion, he only tolerates Namchuen/April because the girls are not a threat to him (and his relationship with Mew).

He is also a coward. He kept silent about the Top/Ton situation, thinking it’s never gonna come to light (again he didn’t apologise about thinking Ray/Mew had a sexual relationship, which as far I am concerned even if they did it was 2 yrs ago). So, when Mew played him at the end, all I can say is - FINALLY (and even then he initially tried to say him sleeping with Ton was only before TopMew is a thing?? until Mew pressed him, exposing that he knew Top slept again more recently).

Mew

Which brings me to sweet Mew. I have always thought there is more to Mew than meets the eyes. Yes, he is inexperienced in some ways, but he is observant, well- adjusted and intelligent. Him being brought up by loving lesbian couple 🥳😘. And him knowing he doesn’t need to have a bf to feel fulfill cause he knows he can get love from his friends and moms. And so, for him, Top is someone he chose consciously as a partner.

I also love the analogy the screenwriters/directors took with the whole TopMew sensory deprivation dates we had so far (laser tag - touch, silent DJ - hearing, blind date - sight). I perceived it as Mew seeing Top in rose-tinted glasses (during their getting to know each other phase) until he finally got laser treatment this episode (such an irony it was Top who suggested it), and P’ Yo commenting it’s like Mew being reborn. So, Mew finally achieving clear vision and for him to learn about Top’s cheating - 👌. Also, kudos for Mew, playing the long game when he found out Top’s cheating by staying calm and collected at his own party, decking Ray (unfortunately, Ray needed it cause he was truly causing havoc with Ray not listening to any reasonings even when Mew attempts to do that first by trying to calm Ray down), to him seducing Top before dropping the bombshell (Book played this part masterfully and to see him tearing Force’s Top character into pieces - 👍)

I will say it again, I really like Mew and Ray’s genuine friendship. Yes, Mew cannot return Ray’s feelings (and I suspect Mew is trying to gently “wean” Ray off his dependency of Mew cause despite being a good/close friend he cannot be there for Ray 24 hours) but other than that, Mew has made more efforts (than the rest of the group) to be there for Ray. And so, I’m glad that Ray did tell Mew (as any bestie should!) about Top/Ton. I just wished Mew have communicated to Ray better about letting him handle Top (I suspect it’s one of the reason why Ray may have drunkenly try to expose Top cause Mew may have kept his silence, probably trying to process what he has heard from Ray but Ray may have perceived it as Mew not believing him).

April and Namchuen

I’m glad we are seeing more of them (finally!). Like any relationship they have their own problems and with Ray again exposing their private issues during his drunken tirade (urgh that was disastrous, but also yay! - it’s a catalyst for this couple to communicate effectively and sort out their issues).

However, it does seem Namchuen is truly clueless about what’s going on with her male besties. She knows superficially about Ray being perpetually drunk and Ton being a slut. But other than that, it seems the boys are shielding her from the rest of their issues. So, it will be interesting to see how their dynamic changes now that some of the secrets and lies are being exposed (I’m also genuinely worried they are ALL not gonna pass their hostel project 🫣)

Anyway, as usual, it was a roller coaster 🎢 ride of emotions by the end of the episode. The cast and their actings continue to impress me - but the stand out for this episode belongs to Ray, Mew and Sand 👌….so, is it Saturday yet? I need to see Top grovel on Mew’s feet, Mew duking it out with Ton and some SandRay sweet moments to compensate for what I just experienced with episode 6

17/09/2023

[mariana-oconnor]

The Illustrious Client pt 3

Had a busy weekend, so I'm one behind again, but where were we?

A hypnotised woman, a man so evil he wants everyone to know about it and he keeps a special scrapbook of his favourite evil moments for him to read in bed at night when he can't sleep. My favourite character is probably not going to be in it again, seeing as she failed to convince the guy's latest victim that he's a murdering arsehole, but I really hope she gets to stamp his face in with her boot. Y'know. As a treat.

Oh, and then someone tried to kill Holmes. There was a cliffhanger. I almost forgot about that.

The Illustrious Client on whose behalf Sherlock Holmes was consulted was anxious to prevent the marriage of the young, rich and beautiful Miss Violet de Merville to Baron Gruner, an unscrupulous adventurer.

Given some of the descriptions Watson has given of perfectly nice clients, I feel like 'unscrupulous adventurer' is such a milquetoast way of putting this. And also rather offensive to adventurers.

“I'm a bit of a single-stick expert, as you know. I took most of them on my guard. It was the second man that was too much for me.”

See, this is why I don't get why everyone insists on Watson being the action man of the pair. Holmes is out there whacking people with sticks. Watson occasionally shoots a dog.

No, I'm never going to be over that.

"They'll come to you for news. Put it on thick, Watson. Lucky if I live the week out—concussion—delirium—what you like! You can't overdo it.”

This is a definite step up from The Dying Detective where Holmes was convinced that if Watson knew he wasn't dying, he'd never be able to convince anyone of it. Has Watson's acting got better or has Holmes just realised that pretending to be dying is a dick move? Something tells me it isn't the first option. I don't think it's the second, either, if I'm honest. I feel like Holmes needs Watson to do something. But still, not lying to your best friend about dying. So proud of you.

“Yes. Tell Shinwell Johnson to get that girl out of the way. Those beauties will be after her now."

If anything bad happens to Kitty, I riot.

He pushed to an extreme the axiom that the only safe plotter was he who plotted alone.

Even so, he's still doing way better than he used to. We're all very proud of him.

It was simply that among the passengers on the Cunard boat Ruritania, starting from Liverpool on Friday, was the Baron Adelbert Gruner, who had some important financial business to settle in the States before his impending wedding to Miss Violet de Merville...

Apparently it was almost a week to get to the States on a liner in those days, which is less time than I thought, but also quite a while to spend travelling (2 weeks, there and back) right before your wedding. The wedding is not that imminent, I guess.

"Now, Watson, I want you to do something for me.” “I am here to be used, Holmes.”

“Well, then, spend the next twenty-four hours in an intensive study of Chinese pottery.” He gave no explanations and I asked for none. By long experience I had learned the wisdom of obedience.

On the one hand, this also shows growth, on the other, blindly following Holmes' instructions seems like a terrible idea in so. many. ways. But y'know, whatever floats their boats. Ours not to kink shame.

I was sucking in knowledge and committing names to memory. There I learned of the hall-marks of the great artist-decorators, of the mystery of cyclical dates, the marks of the Hung-wu and the beauties of the Yung-lo, the writings of Tang-ying, and the glories of the primitive period of the Sung and the Yuan.

“It needs careful handling, Watson. This is the real egg-shell pottery of the Ming dynasty. No finer piece ever passed through Christie's. A complete set of this would be worth a king's ransom..."

Will the priceless historic china survive? That's the real question.

"You may as well be a medical man, since that is a part which you can play without duplicity. You are a collector, this set has come your way, you have heard of the Baron's interest in the subject, and you are not averse to selling at a price.”

OK. okayokayokayokayokay. No.

If this guy knows who Holmes is. Then he should, therefore, know who Watson is, too. We have even had, in this very story, evidence that supports that because the colonel (whose name I can't remember right now) was like 'yes, of course Dr Watson should be involved toodle pip." (I added the toodle pip part, but the rest was accurate enough.)

So surely the guy who arranged for Holmes to be murdered - who is apparently tracking down Kitty to murder her, too - surely he should know who Watson is. Therefore either this is a double bluff and Holmes is knowingly sending Watson into a danger that has already tried to claim his own life or he doesn't think that his opponent is smart enough to connect his enemy to their best friend who writes about them frequently and who has been visiting him daily since the attack.

If he turns out to be right and the baron doesn't recognise Watson immediately, I will be further annoyed at his incompetence.

On the same evening, with the precious saucer in my hand and the card of Dr. Hill Barton in my pocket, I set off on my own adventure.

Oh really? Like... an adventurer, would you say?

The place had been built by a South African gold king in the days of the great boom, and the long, low house with the turrets at the corners, though an architectural nightmare, was imposing in its size and solidity.

Glad to see Watson turning his scathing judgements to architecture as well as people. It was... it was a very solid building. It had that going for it.

He was certainly a remarkably handsome man. His European reputation for beauty was fully deserved. In figure he was not more than of middle size, but was built upon graceful and active lines. His face was swarthy, almost Oriental, with large, dark, languorous eyes which might easily hold an irresistible fascination for women. His hair and moustache were raven black, the latter short, pointed, and carefully waxed. His features were regular and pleasing, save only his straight, thin-lipped mouth. If ever I saw a murderer's mouth it was there—a cruel, hard gash in the face, compressed, inexorable, and terrible. He was ill-advised to train his moustache away from it, for it was Nature's danger-signal, set as a warning to his victims.

Oh my god. Watson. Watson. Quite being so horny on main. I am begging you. Stop ogling the man. And he can't help the way his moustache is away from his mouth - it's all the twirling.

"I would ask you what do you know of the Emperor Shomu and how do you associate him with the Shoso-in near Nara? Dear me, does that puzzle you? Tell me a little about the Northern Wei dynasty and its place in the history of ceramics.” I sprang from my chair in simulated anger.

Watson. Watson. My dude. My man. My good sir. WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK was the point of you learning everything there is to know about Chinese pottery if you're not even going to bother to answer his motherfucking questions? What even is this? What was the point? WHY?

I mean, I'm pretty sure he knew who you were from the moment you sent the letter but even so. Even so! I can't get annoyed about him not committing to the bit when you're out here not even trying to commit to any of it.

Two steps took me to the open door, and my mind will ever carry a clear picture of the scene within. The window leading out to the garden was wide open. Beside it, looking like some terrible ghost, his head girt with bloody bandages, his face drawn and white, stood Sherlock Holmes.

Well, I was right. It was a double bluff. Watson was the distraction, cool cool. He was rubbish at it, but at least Holmes knew he was going to fail.

An arm—a woman's arm—shot out from among the leaves. At the same instant the Baron uttered a horrible cry—a yell which will always ring in my memory. He clapped his two hands to his face and rushed round the room, beating his head horribly against the walls. Then he fell upon the carpet, rolling and writhing, while scream after scream resounded through the house.

The features which I had admired a few minutes before were now like some beautiful painting over which the artist has passed a wet and foul sponge.

So that's why you went on about how hot he was. For the contrast. Gotcha.

Obviously this is terrible and throwing acid in people's faces is awful and horrible etc.

On the other hand, I support Kitty Winter and she's never done anything wrong ever in her life.

"It was that hell-cat, Kitty Winter!”

“It is his love diary?”

You say that like it's a normal thing.

???

"I knew I had only a few minutes in which to act, for my time was limited by your knowledge of Chinese pottery."

Holmes' perennial lack of faith in Watson's abilities is as sad as it is earned.

But he didn't even use his knowledge of Chinese pottery. He didn't even try.

“But if these injuries are as terrible as Dr. Watson describes, then surely our purpose of thwarting the marriage is sufficiently gained without the use of this horrible book.”

Wow, you think very little of Violet. I also think very little of her, but honestly, I'm pretty sure this isn't a deal breaker for her. Just say you think she's shallow and fickle, why don't you?

The same paper had the first police-court hearing of the proceedings against Miss Kitty Winter on the grave charge of vitriol-throwing. Such extenuating circumstances came out in the trial that the sentence, as will be remembered, was the lowest that was possible for such an offence.

Good for her.

...when an object is good and a client is sufficiently illustrious, even the rigid British law becomes human and elastic.

YAY! CORRUPTION!!

🥳🥳🥳

What a weird note to end it on. But the day was saved, I guess. Weirdly as it was. Violet de Merville presumably went on to continue to be a supercilious nightmare of a woman and Baron Adelbert Gruner was punished with *checks notes* disfigurement and blindness... so I guess that's a happy ending?

idek.

I'm glad Kitty got to fuck him up, though. That was very satisfying.

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Light on the Darkside - Chapter Twenty Seven.

Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen Fifteen Sixteen Seventeen Eighteen Nineteen Twenty Twenty One Twenty Two Twenty Three Twenty Four Twenty Five Twenty Six

Tag list - In the comments. Please DM to be added/removed.

Words - 4,363

Warnings - 18+ throughout. Topics cover depression, suicide and eating disorders. Minors DNI!

After exhausting herself all over again crying on her mum, Lyra curled up and had a nap, leaving her parents to move into the kitchen and talk.  

“Here,” James spoke, pushing a glass across the wooden worktop of the island, one that contained a very, very large measure of vodka. “You look like you need that.”  

Taking the glass, she tipped it down her throat, her husband being much more uncouth and swigging it directly from the bottle before pouring her another measure. That one she sipped, shaking her head, her eyes wide before closing as she covered them with her hand, starting to sob.  

“Bloody hell,” she gasped, “bloody fucking hell!”  

He was in front of her in a moment, wrapping her in a hug. “I know, little. I shitting know. Can’t even find the words, other than I’ve just lived my worst fucking nightmare.” 

Her hands stroked his back lovingly, looking up at him as she rested her chin to his chest. “I can’t even imagine what you went through, baby. Sit down, tell me what happened.”  

Pulling out the seat beside her, he reached for a glass from the draining board, pouring himself a drink. He smirked sourly, sloshing the clear liquid around. “If only we didn’t have to be responsible. I’d advocate we see our way to the bottom of this bottle.” He took a sip, the alcohol burning a path down his throat. “Right, so she was being shitty with me all afternoon, ended up storming off to her room and then came down for round two after Gaz and Kitt had left. She gave me another mouthful of attitude, and then stomped off.  

“I was dozing on the sofa for a bit when I woke up to the sound of her coughing, so I called up to see if she was alright. She didn’t reply so I went upstairs, and that’s when I found her. Bathroom door was wide open, innit, so that’s what makes me think it weren’t a serious attempt. I’ve been there, when you wanna go, you lock the door and you get the fucking job done. You don’t leave it wide open for your dad to walk up and find you.  

“Ain’t to say it isn’t serious, what she did, but like I said, I think it was a cry for help. Anyway, I made her throw it all up, stuck my fingers down her throat until she puked into the bath so I could count that every pill had come back up. She’d swallowed three sheets of paracetamols. Scared the shit out of herself, the poor little thing. Fucking regretted it almost right away. I say almost, because she tried to take a chunk out my fingers first to stop me making her puke.” 

Holding up the first two digits upon his left hand, Ella saw the red marks that were starting to bruise, the skin slightly split. Taking that hand in hers, she kissed his palm, the weight of it all bearing down upon her massively. “Bleedin’ hell. I didn’t even see it coming, whether a cry for help or an honest attempt. I should have. I really, really should!” 

“Oi, less of that,” he spoke, squeezing her fingers. “I could say exactly the same thing here. She displayed everything I did when I was her age, being either a quiet, moody arsehole or a little shit to my dad and Carole. Dad mistook it for teenage moodiness and bolshy shit, and now this confirms to me just how fucking easy it is to miss. Ain’t our fault, even though I already feel like I’ve failed her for having firsthand knowledge of depression and not seeing it in her. If that’s even what she’s got. I dunno, and now I’m fucking running on at the gob and all that.”  

Ella reached for him, pulling his head close and kissing it, wrapping her arms around him as she stroked his hair. He was spiralling, a perfectly natural response. “I think we need to prepare for the fact that this is going to put us both on an emotional rollercoaster, wondering if there was something we could have done to prevent it, blaming ourselves, it’s the natural response, isn’t it?” 

“Yeah,” he hummed, resting his forehead to her shoulder. “Because I promised her I’d be better than Carole, and she’s still going through the same shit I did.”  

“James,” she spoke, her tone firm but loving, pulling him away to look him dead in the eye. “You are doing better. You aren’t blaming her. Believe me, you truly are doing a better job than that rotten woman ever did.” It still burned her if she thought about it for too long, how unwilling Carole had been to realise James’s mental illness wasn’t because of anything he had or hadn’t done.  

The corner of his mouth tugged upwards, reaching for his glass and taking a sip. “Yeah, fair comment.” Another few sips were taken. “What do we do about getting her help? Do you know anyone professionally? Ahh, yeah. What’s her name? Can’t shitting think.” 

Chewing the end of her thumb, she nodded slowly. “Sadie. She specialises in it, mental illness in younger people. I’d love nothing more to treat her myself, but it’s too close. I have to back away from it and just be her mum. I mean good freakin’ god, she already rips my head off about therapizing her when I’m not. It wouldn’t be conducive to her recovery or my sanity to try and speak to her on a professional level. It’d probably do more harm than good.”  

James thought that was probably the best decision. Dr. Sadie Everley was one of the best around for treating children with mental health issues, remembering when his wife had spoken about her in the past, Ella often being referred her cases when the child in question was suffering from an eating disorder. The new seventeen-year-old boy she’d taken on recently had been one of those referrals, for example.  

They returned to the lounge after a few minutes of further quiet talking, Lyra curling against her dad once again as Ella flanked her, reaching to stroke her leg.  

“I heard what you said about me seeing someone, mum,” she spoke, beginning to shake her head. “Not yet, though. I just... I dunno. I feel so messed up. I don’t know where to start with it past what I told dad about how I felt.” 

Ella bit her tongue in order not to speak the words that probably wouldn’t help, knowing that seeing Sadie sooner rather than later would definitely be of benefit to her. Also, she needed to get her to their GP, explain the situation, see if maybe they thought her to be a candidate for medication to ease her mental distress. Again, though, she kept that to herself.  

“Okay, my love. For now.”  

She kept an eye on her for the rest of the evening, noticing Lyra retreating into herself more, only picking at the Chinese takeaway dinner they ordered, barely even making a dent in the soup and prawn crackers she’d requested. By 10pm she was fast asleep, tucked in at her dad’s side, Ella lying close by on the other side of the L shaped sofa. They stayed down there with her all night, too afraid to leave her alone with how down and defeated their poor baby was.  

The next morning brought little change, Ella trying to strive for normality, asking Lyra if she wanted to accompany her on a morning walk to the park with Hugo and Otis.  

“Just want to stay with dad.”  

That was fine, but for hours, those were the only words she spoke, welded to her father’s side, her beautiful eyes so dejected and sad. The help her parents had to get her, in Ella’s mind it needed to come rapidly. While out walking, she called Sadie, apologising profusely for disturbing her on a weekend, asking if there was any possibility she could see Lyra at their home the following afternoon. 

“Of course, I can,” she revealed, much to Ella’s relief. “I have patients until two, but I can squeeze you in between three and four for a little chat with her. Nothing heavy, just nice and casual to assess where she’s at. It would be prudent to perhaps have her evaluated by her GP, too. See if medication is an option going forward. Gosh, you and James must have been bloody terrified.” 

“We still are,” she confirmed, whistling for Otis when he went to hurtle across the grass after a pigeon. “She’s only sunk further into herself after opening up to James a little bit, but she’s not coping, Sadie. Clinging to him, she is. I love that she’s seeking his comfort, but it isn’t ideal, especially since it isn’t bringing her back out of her gloom. I know it hasn’t been long either, and I don’t want to rush it, but I can’t help but worry.” 

Sadie heard it clearly, the tremors in her voice, a concerned mother riding a knife edge of grave concern for her first born. “Breathe deep and give yourself a moment, Ella. This is much to contend with for you, too. Be gentle with yourself, and I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“I’ll try,” she sighed, running a hand through her hair. God, the weight of it all. “Thank you again, Sadie. See you tomorrow.” 

She had even more to contend with an hour later, arriving home to find Lyra sleeping on the sofa, kissing her head lovingly before moving through to the kitchen and telling James of her plan going forward. Sadly, he didn’t take it as well as she expected he would. 

“You shitting did what?” he barked, Ella immediately wincing. “She don’t need all this right now! We’ve gotta let her settle again, let there be a bit of distance between what happened. Nah. She ain’t seeing no one this soon.” 

“James, please,” she began, holding out her hands. “If we leave her to do this on her own timeframe, she might not ever want to get to the bottom of it. I can’t just leave her suffering!” 

“But you ain’t, though! She’s just quiet because she’s freaked out by it all and trying to process it in her own time, which is what she needs to do! You’re going back on what you said to her yesterday!” 

Dragging her hands through her hair, she took a deep breath, trying not to escalate as rapidly as her husband was. “She does, but she’s twelve, baby. Lyra doesn’t have either the mental tools or maturity to begin doing that on her own, which is why I called Sadie. And I know I am, but I’m worried!” 

“You’re overbearing on her,” he challenged, pointing a finger as her before folding his arms, his nostrils flaring.  

“No, but that’s what you’re scared of most, isn’t it?” She didn't want to shine a light on it, she truly didn’t, but he was leaving her with little choice. “All this is because you don’t want to come off as anything close to how Carole was as you get her through this...”  

“Oh that’s bullshit!” he raged, cutting her up. “Don’t you dare fucking analyse me, Ella! Don’t fucking do it!” 

“Don’t shout at me,” she warned sternly. “I’m not analysing you. If I was, then I’d be rooting around for something you didn’t want to acknowledge, and over the years you’ve never shied away from making a point that you never want to be that kind of parent. Well, you aren’t, and neither am I, but you have to listen to some sense here, James! We can only comfort her through this so far!” 

His frown deepened, shaking his head. “Nah, ain’t having none of that. This has got fuck all to do with that bitch.” 

So, he wasn’t willing to acknowledge it, then. “I think you’ll find it has. That’s misguided, because if either of us was being at all like her, we wouldn’t even bleedin’ acknowledge that she has a genuine problem in the first place, or be trying to help her with it! I mean, come on! I just want her to sit in her own home where she’s comfortable and start working through it, so we can get her better. I might understand this reaction if I was bundling her into the car and driving her over to Moor Acres, but I’m not!” 

What stung James the most as he stood there and stewed in his own anger was the fact he knew Ella had a point, but it clashed with what he felt within. He wanted to be as gentle as needed with Lyra, do things on her own timeframe, but also, he knew what his wife was saying somewhat made sense. Through the hard-headedness he’d inherited directly from his birth mother, though, he wasn’t ready to admit that at all. She was wrong, and that was it.  

“I’ll be in the garage.” 

Ella threw her hands up in the air. “Oh, so that’s it, yeah? We’re done talking about this because you say so?” 

“Yep.” 

“Fucking hard headed nause!” she fumed under her breath, clicking the kettle on and resting her head in her hands with a groan, wishing she still smoked. She could have killed for a cigarette. At least she found a little solace later that night, although she almost called to cancel it at several points, her planned meet up for dinner with her sister.  

Although James was barely speaking to her, he still insisted she go, take a break, offering to pick the kids up. The face he wore while he said it and the tone he used very much indicated he wasn’t happy with her regardless, though. She unloaded it all to Jane as they ate later that early evening, her sister the reliable soundboard as ever.  

“Look, sis. I agree with you, I do, but I think there’s a bit more at play here than James being scared of even remotely coming across like Carole,” Jane began, rolling her wine glass stem between her thumb and forefinger. “I think that maybe he needs time too, to get over the fact he feels like it’s probably his fault, his gene pool of wonky mental health that’s caused Lyra to suffer this. While you’re a thousand percent well-meaning, that man’s brain, right now, utter chaos. In his mind, you’re rushing her and him, and he doesn’t know how to process it all in his own head, let alone help Lyra with her burden.” 

“We don’t have time, though,” Ella insisted, the stress of it very clear for her sister to see. “He’s adamant that she’s scared herself into never trying it again, but I can’t know that for sure. And yeah, yeah I’ve considered that as well, and I want to try and be there for him too as he gets his head around it. We’ve both told one another we’re not to blame when we’ve shared those natural doubts.” 

Jane really didn’t know what to say to that, seeing it from both sides and of course, knowing the natural worry that came with being a parent. She had a boy and a girl, Tyler seven and Adelle five. Spearing another piece of fishcake with her fork, she bought herself a little time. Ella wasn’t done sharing just yet, though, which bought a little more. 

“He really hurt me, too. Saying I was analysing him,” she huffed, lifting her wine glass and taking a big gulp. “They both do it if I even dare try to offer some insight into something. And even if it isn’t because I’m a bloody therapist! Just a natural conclusion, but no. I’m analysing or therapizing, however the hell they choose to refer to it as.” Her mouth turned down, her eyes saddening. “I only want to help my baby.” 

It was a fault of hers, though, being overly analytical. Even more so that Ella truly didn’t always want to acknowledge when she was doing it. Jane had always hated tough love, especially when her little sister needed it. Even more so because said little sister was a doctor and therefore very hard to try and advise in such a way. There was – and lamentably so – a little slither there within her that sometimes thought she knew better because of it.  

She had to concede that in this instance, though, she saw no indignance there, no holier than thou attitude within Ella. Just a worried mother who desperately wanted to help her child. “I think you both need to have a calm talk. James isn’t a stubborn fella at all. He’s one of the most easy-going people I know, to be fair. Except when he’s wound up. I think he might simply need time to calm down, you know. You too. You can be just as fiery when pushed!” 

She accepted that, knowing that them being apart for the evening would probably do some good, give them both time to gather their thoughts. While she was receiving her own help in processing the aftermath of what had happened, James was pulling up outside his parent’s house to fetch his younger kids, about to be given a little of his own.  

“Alright, kidda!” his dad chirped brightly upon opening the front door, beaming to see Lyra there, too. “Hello, my little petal! How nice to see you as well! Usually haven’t got time for your old granddad, eh!”  

It was true, her visits to her grandparents were a little more infrequent now she was heading for her teen years, off with her friends more often. With what had happened the previous afternoon, though, James wasn’t prepared to let her out of his sight.  

He was calling the school in the morning, too, explaining that she wouldn’t be in for a couple of days and why. That was a decision he’d made regardless of whether he’d continue to put his foot down and refuse her having a session with Sadie come the following evening or not. She needed time, regardless of what any head shrinker wanted to tell him. 

Lyra went through to the lounge to find her nan, Alice greeting her warmly, James poking his head around the door to say hello as well and wave to his little ones, both busy doing something with beads as they sat on the rug with their nanny. “Just need to have a word with dad and I’ll be in.” 

Alice saw it, how he didn’t look quite right, frowning softly. She nodded without word, watching her son move down to the kitchen, sharing a look with Alan that confirmed he’d noticed it, too.  

The man himself closed the kitchen door softly, moving to his son. “What’s up, lad? You look... I can’t even put a word on it, but that face isn’t one I’ve seen in a long, long time.” 

Much to his surprise, after shrugging himself from his leather jacket, James sighed, gulping, moving to wrap his arms around him. “I finally know just how you felt, when Steve called you to tell you I was in hospital after I tried to do myself in,” he began, Alan feeling something spiny prickle unpleasantly at his insides as he patted his sons back soothingly. “Lyra tried to take an overdose last night. I’m so sorry I ever put you through the same thing, because now I’m living it, I fucking know how terrifying it is.” 

“Jesus bloody wept!” he gasped, clutching James a little tighter. “That’s floored me, mate. I... bloody hell. I’m so sorry, son. Is she alright? Are you alright? Stupid question, really, because I can see you’re not. Shit.” 

“I ain’t, dad,” he spoke, swallowing hard as he pulled back from his father’s embrace, thumbing his glassy eyes. “Don’t matter about me, though. Gotta hold it together for my little girl. She ain’t barely said two words all day, just so sad and down. Needs time and all that, bit of distance between what happened, innit.” 

Alan nodded, moving to the kettle and switching it on. “Did she say why, like? Any specific reason?”  

“Nah, nothing specific. She’s taking after her old man here, though. Said she feels like there’s something missing, so I reckon it’s just like it was with me. Depression. Can’t say for definite, but that’s what I think.” 

Alan removed his glasses, pinching his nose. Depression, hitting another Kingston. He knew that the predisposition was increased with a mentally ill parent, he knew it only too well, but it still rocked him all the same. “What’s going to happen now, lad? You taking her to a doctor, I take it? What’s Ella said? She’s about the bloody best authority on it, like.” 

James snorted, his brows knitting. “The less my fucking wife says right now, the better.” 

That was a startling statement to hear from a man who was so in tune and in love with his other half. True, they had their moments of conflict, just like any couple did, but never in the seventeen years they’d been together had Alan seen his son speak like that of Ella. Preparing two cups of tea, he handed one over, his face expectant. “What’s she said that you obviously don’t like?” 

“Fucking gone and gotten one of her head shrinker mates to come over tomorrow, hasn’t she? Lyra ain’t even ready to delve into all of that shit yet, but no, her mother can’t pissing listen to that! Just fucking marches on ahead, thinking she knows what’s best!” He stewed silently for a few moments before adding some further thoughts to his tirade.  

“Then, dad, then she goes and accuses me of being scared of becoming like Carole for wanting to hold off on it, saying Lyra needs help immediately instead of giving her some grace.  Thinks she fucking knows it all because she’s a psychologist. Nah, I ain’t having that, being analysed by my own wife. Fucks sake, she’s wound me right up!” 

As the truth he was trying to avoid often did with James.  

“Do you want my input, son?” Alan asked, lifting his chin as he slid his glasses back up his nose. 

“Yeah, couldn’t hurt.” 

“Are you prepared for the fact you’re probably not going to like what I’ve got to say?” 

His jaw clenched and twitched. “I suppose.” 

He nodded, taking a breath. “Thing is, I bet she finds it hard to switch off. If you had what she does, an understanding of the mind and behaviours that knocks that of your average person into the shade, wouldn’t you call upon it?” He sniffed, lifting his mug and taking a sip. “I know I bloody would, lad. Especially if it’d helped me see what was coming with you when you were in Lyra’s shoes. Well, you were bloody worse, and you had been for a long time. I’d have done anything to have prevented that. All Ella’s doing is using what she knows to prevent that with her own child.” 

“James, you’ve got to get your head around the fact you’re not Carole. You’re strong and kind, you adore those kids, anybody can see that. Them most of all, though. You’ve got to be the one in charge here though, kidda. Lyra doesn’t need to be given the freedom to decide for herself here, because she’s not well enough to. As her father, this is where you have to step in and decide the best thing for her, just like I had to with you. Don’t think it didn’t break my bloody heart when I signed those papers as your next of kin to have you sectioned. Did it because you couldn’t make that choice for yourself though, lad.” 

God, he was right, and so was Ella. Through his own issues with what he was struggling with, scared of repeating bad parenting he himself had received, he still couldn’t quite get his head around it.  

“Hmm.” Alan saw he wasn’t truly ready to let his pride go, and thought that to be very much on brand with Carole’s stubbornness, but to a much lesser degree. He made no mention of it, though, instead being as supportive as he could to his eldest, and enjoying the remaining time with his granddaughters before they left. 

Once home, the girls all washed and fed (bar a still sullen, sofa dwelling Lyra) James stood at the back door watching the dogs play up on the elevated lawn section of the garden, feeling a soft hand press against his side and stroke. 

“Can we be done with fighting now?” Ella asked, looking up at him, his frown like a crater, denting his handsome features. 

“Yeah,” he sighed, but made no move to reciprocate her touch. If anything, he stiffened and shied from it, moving from her reach. “Just got some shit I need to deal with, aside from all this.”  

“Can I help you with that?” she asked softly, sighing when he shook his head. He wouldn’t even look at her. 

“No.” 

Ella wasn’t used to this at all, being shut out by him. It scared her, reminded her of how he’d been when he himself was still under the duress of his mental illness, when he’d remove himself from her. Back when his head was a mess he couldn’t logically sort out and process. In all of this, the last thing she needed was for him to slip, too.  

Maturity had to prevail, although she felt close to an emotional outburst. “You know where I am if you need me. I love you.”  

The space between them in bed later that night felt vast, neither managing much sleep. James knew he likely wouldn’t either, going forward. He could put himself to bed, but truly, he needed to put something else in the exact same place, something that had hung over him for the past twelve years.  

Only then could he be the husband and father he knew he needed to be. 

[toomuchracket]

oooh delulu hours :)

maybe flatmate! (the current times) or dword! Matty comforting girlie about a career change. like maybe something they’re trying really hard for fell through, even though they know the can do it and matty is a nice support system

thank u Mads, btw no need to answer this if ur not feeling the concept :)

yes something like this defo happens in the flatmate universe!! i think i reference it in the babymoon fic lol, but basically you're passed over for a massive promotion at the firm you've been working at since you were at uni, in favour of a guy who's an arsehole and a yes man and is (as you tell your fiancé when you get home that night) "the reason people fucking hate lawyers. smarmy cunt. bet it's cos he's a southerner - sounds better on the fucking phone than i do. classism. it's classism, matthew! maybe we should move back home" (mind you, you're a manc girly); you KNOW you had the better presentation and interview, you've been nothing but a total asset to the firm, and everyone knows you'd be a great choice for the job, so it's a proper kick in the teeth when you don't get it. matty patiently listens to the rant section of your reaction, and hugs you tightly for the crying part - while you sob into his chest, he just strokes your hair like "i'm sorry, darling, i really am. gutted, actually - i know how much you wanted this, and how amazing you'd be. shame those wankers you work with don't see that. reckon they need their heads checked, honestly", and when you giggle he kisses your nose and says "there she is, my sweet girl. don't you go being sweet at work, though, yeah? go in, do your job, come home and forget about it. and the second that stupid cunt comes to you asking for help or advice, or they try to offload his work onto you because he inevitably won't be able to hack it... get out of there, sweetheart. don't let them take you for granted. you'd find a better job in no time, i reckon, with your accomplishments. smartest person i know. and sexiest, too, if we're being honest. you're the shit, baby, and i love you so fucking much. come on, i'll make you a brew". that, and a lot of hugs and kisses... he's very sweet <3

[julibellule]

“Why’s it not moving?”

“Ah– I think they turn the electricity off so none of them can move until everyone’s got a car–”

At which point, their car lurches forward. Stede yelps (again) and grabs onto the side. Ed, meanwhile, drives with the silent fury of a storm. His eyes shine with wild thrill and he bears his teeth. Stede holds on for dear life.

“Let’s get this arsehole over here,” Ed announces, and Stede notes with some alarm that the arsehole in question is practically a kid, sixteen to eighteen-ish, wearing a Fortnite t-shirt.

“Ed!”

“Look at him, he’s a dick! Didn’t you see him just make that little girl cry, ramming into her car like that? Look at the prick, he’s laughing– it’s fuckin’ karma, come on–”

It’s really out of Stede’s hands to be honest, because there’s no way he’s going to be able to steer Ed off his righteous path of vengeance. Stede doesn’t want to, either, particularly when he sees the shit-eating grin on the kid’s face. Ed slams a foot down on the accelerator and crashes directly into the side of his car for maximum impact. The whiplash is brutal but the boy recovers fast enough to shoot Ed and Stede an offended glare and gives the wanker gesture.

“OI! That– that is very rude!” Stede exclaims, because honestly, he is a bit shocked. He’s far too young to be so cocky, but there he is, driving away and now giving them the middle finger. “Fuck this! Ed, let’s annihilate him!”

>>> Click here for more BlackBonnet fic recs <<<

[whinlatter]

do u have any fancasts for the characters in beasts?

i actually don't, really! i know i used sadie sink for ginny in the trailer, but that was mostly because the scene pack for the all too well music video was too good to miss out on for the red headed girl/outdoorsy vibes with some claustrophobic interior shots (she's gorgeous tho). for the most part, i'm not really picturing specific actors - certainly not the movie cast, with the exception of maggie smith for mcgonagall. the reasons for this are quite flippant and dumb and more functional than they are a matter of principle. it's partly that i find the age issue too tricky - the bulk of the characters are supposed to be teenagers, nineteen/twenty at the oldest, and i don't have a huge repertoire of teen actors/actors who convincingly played teenagers in my head to work with. plus any actors i can think of just tend to be too implausibly good looking to be able to meaningfully project characterisation onto them.

to be honest i also would want actors who could plausibly play a british/irish person, so usually - sorry to my country folk - much less well groomed and conventionally attractive than a north american actor, let's face it. and because most famous british actors tend to be (with exceptions) from a certain class background, and i am relentless in my class politics, i find it hard to imagine these characters that come from a wide range of different walks of life and backgrounds played by the same bunch of like 20 people who all come from the same postcode. yes this is shade at the british actor pipeline and i'm not sorry about it!

the only sort of exception to this rule is michael corner. when i was trying to develop him as a character i did try and go looking for fancasts to help me get somewhere with how i was imagining him. i thought it might help flesh out his characterisation to get a sense of how he might speak or move, to help me come up with a sense of his presence and vibe, and therefore a plausible backstory for him and a set of motivations (so someone late teens who can do prickly and be a bit of an arsehole, but also ends up a hero and went out with ginny for a whole year, so must have something redeeming and endearing about him in there somewhere). the closest i got with that was amir wilson, because he's got a good set of brows and a cracking scowl on him, but to be honest even he's a bit too cool and handsome for what i was going for with michael.

for ocs, i tend to pull more from vibes than specific people or actors. though i don't think they look alike, rina is named after and is supposed to have some of the vibes of pop queen rina sawayama, partly because rina's kind of intimidating and deliciously aggy, but also because her song catch me in the air is about coming of age and mother/daughter relationships told through the metaphor of flight, and i liked those vibes for the character and the fic as a whole.

thank you i loved thinking about this one!

[bisquicklite]

Lyna!

Thank you for the ask! :3 I may have gotten carried away. I have no regrets. Please enjoy Osha having a big plate of upsetty spaghetti!

The first time Lyna had met the Warrior of Darkness, she first thought the woman was a vagabond. The green-eyed mystel looked half mad. Her dark hair looked like it was hastily chopped short. Her white robes stained with mud and soot and blood, as if she had been through trial after trial with no time for rest. The dark circles under her eyes only made her wild gaze more intense.

She claimed to be from Eorzea. Another of the Exarch's guests then, Lyna thought, thankful that the woman wasn't naked as some others had been upon their arrival.

While her robes and staff marked her as a healer, the look in her eye made her look more like a wild animal about to go on a rampage. That she was just waiting for a reason or opportunity to unleash a well of frustration and anger.

The Crystal exarch had just made his appearance, right on time to greet his newest guest after the sin eater had been felled. No doubt he was intent on giving her the grad tour of the Crystarium. He didn't seem to notice the woman's air of impending violence that radiated from her. Or, if he did, he pretended not to.

A potentially foolish mistake, Lyna thought. She kept her eyes on Osha, the given name of the mystel.

"So, you're the arsehole, then?" The woman said, cutting off the Exarch as he had been attempting his greeting. It sounded more like an accusation than a question.

"Pardon?" Was all the Exarch had time to reply before Osha began on a suddenly animated, if odd, tangent.

"I'll be honest with you, mostly because I don't like lying. But I also don't really have the energy to even try. See, I haven't slept in, hmm, about a week, I think? Well, haha, except for a few hours after passing out on the battlefield when someone decided to have a cheeky little scream inside my skull." As she spoke, she was smiling in a way that was anything but friendly, showing off her sharp canines.

She had stabbed her staff into the ground, a strange weapon that looked like it was made of stone. Not necessarily abandoning the staff, but setting it aside for the moment. Then she was roughly pulling the robes off of her form, tossing it to the side with far less care. The gloves went next, leaving the woman in simple shorts and camise.

"All that's to say, if the next words out of your mouth aren't the whereabouts of my friends, my colleagues, my twins, and the man I love," the green eyed mystel took beat to loudly crack her knuckles before continuing, "I'm going to punch you in your stupid fucking face, arsehole."

"Excuse you?" Lyna bristled at the verbal assault on the man she considered her own grandfather. Her hands reached for her chakrams without a thought, her feet already moving to step between the Exarch and Osha.

The only thing stopping her from leaping to action and arresting this disgruntled vagabond woman was the slightest gesture from the Exarch. It was a quick and calm gesture, one that conveyed a certain sense that the situation was well in hand. That he was confident he could handle this without further escalation. And that he was unbothered by such threats.

Lyna frowned with disapproval, and with no small reluctance held her ground as the Exarch repeated the gesture. She stepped back, but kept her eyes trained on Osha. Her muscles held taut and ready to leap into action.

"My friend," He responded, calm and cool as a stark contrast to the woman clearly burning with rage, "If you accompany me, I am sure I can ease all of your concerns."

Osha's response was immediate and harsh, "Nope, wrong bloody answer!"

There wasn't enough time for Lyna to register what was happening.

The woman was so damned fast, launching herself forward with a battle cry on her lips and not a moment's hesitation. The air around her was alight with aether.

The Exarch shouted not a moment later, authority clear in his voice, the commanding incantation halting the attacker in her tracks.

The woman's body wrapped in magical chains that stopped her in her tracks. This didn't stop her from clearly struggling. Her ears pinned back against her skull, and her tail twitching with spasms as it wasn't allowed to move further. The bindings didn't stop her from screaming further threats, either, her voice laced through with a growl.

The Crystal Exarch had to raise his voice in volume, but maintained a calm tone as he spoke, "Now, Osha, I understand that you are upset."

"Fuck you!"

"And for my part, I would like to offer my most sincere apologies for the distress I have caused you, and your loved ones."

"I! Will put you! In the Twelves-damned! Ground!" Osha screamed over the Exarch's attempt to calm her, all the while struggling with redoubled vigor against her magical bindings.

To his credit, Lyna thought, the Exarch seemed utterly unperturbed by such a display. "If I believed that, I should not be inclined to release y-"

The magical bindings gave a loud crack.

Osha's right arm had managed to forcibly gain wiggle room against the enchantment. Just enough to allow her to throw a fist, still wrapped in destructive aether, at the offending binding. The force of the strike caused the enchantment to shatter.

"Shit!" Lyna had just enough time to scruff the Exarch's robes and pull him out of the way.

Which wasn't necessary as the force rushing at them was suddenly tackled by a blur of black and silver. The pair tumbled back some fulms until the black armored form settled on top of Osha, and Lyna realized she knew the figure who had just come to their timely rescue.

"My darling!" Haurchefant Greystone, another of the Crystal Exarch's special guests who arrived some two years prior. His voice was filled with clear joy and affection for the mad woman he had pinned beneath him. When he sat up he pulled Osha along with him, and into a tight embrace, "There you are! Oh, how I have missed you so!"

The sudden appearance of the darkly dressed knight and such abrupt interruption seemed enough to shock Osha out of anger and straight into shocked silence for several long moments.

"Haurch?" In her surprise her voice had lost any trace of anger, making Osha sound surprisingly sweet. She gave a great sigh, her arm going around the knight's neck to return his embrace, "Oh, thank the Lover you're okay."

In short order Haurchefant had pulled both of them to their feet. The elf smiled broadly while Osha stared back up at him in awe. The scene could have been mistaken for something out of a sappy romance novel with the way the pair looked at each other; her hands on his chest as if to ensure that he was solid and real, and his hands cupping her face as if holding something delicate and precious. They leaned into each other, Osha pulling him down into a kiss that turned into another and another.

"Lord Haurchefant, I appreciate... You... Joining us," The Exarch had begun to speak only to be cut off by the knight raising a finger in a clear 'one moment' gesture, all the while not breaking the kiss with Osha. "Ah. Yes. Well. I suppose you two do have some catching up to do."

Lyna herself felt a distinct sense of whiplash, still keyed up from the promise of battle the green eyed mystel woman brought. She was stunned that the previously violent woman was so quickly made tame by the silver hair elf. But it occurred to her that Osha was the missing piece of a puzzle Lyna had never invested much interest in. Haurchefant had spent the previous two years occupied in the Crystarium, more often than not at the rookery tending to the amaros and chocobos. Sometimes he took up small mercenary jobs, escorting merchants and the like, as he had a reputation for keeping his patrons safe from harm. He was well liked among the citizens of the Crystarium, and was regarded as a hard working and friendly elf.

Haurchefant also had a reputation in the bar, where he often spent his evenings alternately flirting and lamenting endlessly of his lost love. Strangely, as amorous and friendly the elf could be, he never was seen taking anyone to bed. He never took a lover, nor developed anything beyond good friendships, as he had already given his heart to his greatest love.

So the green-eyed mystel, Osha, was the lost love.

Lyna hummed to herself to have the small mystery solved.

She had to look away from the pair and their display, to focus instead on the Crystal Exarch, who was examining the stitching on his sleeve with great interest.

"Exarch." She started, her voice quieted, her tone incredulous, "This is the one you have been waiting for?"

The Exarch looked to Lyna and nodded, "She is."

"And you're not... Upset? Concerned? She was just threatening you!" Had it been up to Lyna she would have Osha in shackles and thrown in a cell until further notice.

"I don't believe my life was in any danger." By the way he held his shoulders back, the Exarch was confident in this opinion, "She meant to punch me in the face, not kill me." He looked at the pair again, who had managed to untangle their lips to speak quietly amongst themselves. He looked downright pleased as punch with a smile on his half hidden face.

"Really?"

"I am happy to facilitate the reunion of two lovers."

"I will continue to keep an eye on her." Lyna "For your safety."

"I am sure Haurchefant is more than happy to keep her occupied, so that it is not an issue."

Lyna could not help but roll her eyes.

[slowlyhardgoatee]

Here you are, then. Lord of the manor, hehe.

Y’know, my crew and I have been working on this house for the last few days, and I don’t think any of us has seen you before now. The kid who hired us said he was some kind of PA, that you were kind of reclusive. Then I introduced him to my own PA, if you know what I mean, haha. Well, actually he begged me to introduce him. They got on so well I’ve decided they’ll be meeting again on Thursday, so he won’t be available to help you at all.

Now, down to business. I’m told you’re some kind of influencer, is that right? One of those weird millennial non-jobs that pays you tens of thousands a month just for being alive. I’ve never understood that. I grew up working construction. A real job for real men. Got to be the boss of a crew until I injured my shoulder in 2002. Moved on to painting and decorating after that. Still making a tidy sum to be honest, but I think I can do a little better.

Boy, I’m gonna level with you. I know you’re a faggot. Your PA spilled everything to me while my PA was ruining his arsehole for him. He even told me your bank account details, which of course I’ve now set up in my own name.

Here’s the deal as I see it. You’re a faggot, and as such, you need to be controlled. You need to be raped daily and fully enslaved. You need to be a subservient pig boy for Real Men.

I notice that you’re not denying or objecting to any of this.

With all that in mind, we’ll be turning your little Internet influencer job or whatever it is into an OnlyFans. You’ll be posting new content seven days a week, and every video will be of you getting your arse and mouth brutally fucked. Some of the videos will also include you begging for a belt across your arse, or will include cigar play. Not a single one of them will feature the merest hint of a condom, boy. In fact, get over here and get your cum dump mouth wrapped around my pierced cock. That’s it, just like that. I think I’ve got an idea for your first video, cunt boy. Let me light up and make a call down to one of the guys quickly. You keep sucking, slut. Good boy.

Steve? Yeah, just wanted to give you a heads up. I’m upstairs, and you were right. He’s nothing but a cock eating faggot. I’ve got my meat rammed down his fucking throat right now. Listen, I know it’s time for the guys’ smoke break, isn’t it? Why don’t you tell ‘em all to come inside and take their smoke break up here? In fact, let’s call it a day work-wise, shall we? They can spend the rest of the shift smoking and using this faggot’s arse as a fucking ashtray while he takes his sweet time sucking them all off. What? Oh yeah, obviously they can cum down his fucking throat. They can cum wherever they fucking want. Can’t they, boy? Eh? Don’t talk with your fucking mouth full, faggot. Don’t pull off my cock either. I’ll tell you when you’ve finished, boy, and it won’t be until after I’ve creamed all over your fucking tonsils, I can tell you that much.

What, Steve? Yeah, anytime from now. Send ‘em up. Tell ‘em to bring as many cigars each as they want, as well. I think we’ll be up here for a long time.

[julie-su]

i'll be full honest i was trying to bait you into going 'um ackshually' because of how many megaman games there are but that was a really sweet and thoughtful answer so i'm electing to give you a sheepish hug good sir

-laughs- I see! And here I was, worried that I'd given an answer that wasn't in-depth enough! Sorry, I'm really bad of a person to fight with, because I don't like being rude. I'm not really good at being baited, because I try to have patience with everybody :P

Well, actually, the secret is that I'm actually an arsehole who has learnt to wring out the first initial 'hurrhurr, WHICH mega man games?! This guy doesn't know how many mega man games there are!' response, toss it aside, wipe the tear from my eye (I told you I'm an arsehole), and look at what I'm actually being asked -- to which, we can intuit, if it was an honest question by you, you'd have meant the 'mainline' games - to which I'd assume you would have only meant the baseline core numbered games - and wether they're worth playing. So then, it'd just be a bit of a dick move to say to somebody who's only just learning what the games are about, to try to explain all of that, when that's not what I was asked - who would that be for, other than my ego? "Hurr, I know more than you do!"

Something something -hug-