#it's insane how the pre order took 1½ years

[sunfishsiestalah]

Lady Maria

[yuriririnnie]

Is it love?

A/N: It’s literally 1:51 in the morning and I’m supposed to be studying my last few topics on Tax Law. I really should be focusing, but sometimes don’t you hate it when you have this idea in your head that you just need to let out otherwise you’ll go insane? Yup. So that’s today for me.

PAIRING | Park Jongseong (Jay) x reader

WC | 2.8k (wth Alice?!)

GENRE | angst, fluff

WARNINGS | mentions of drinking, explicit language, mentions of sex and pre-marital cohabitation 

SYNOPSIS | When you first met, he didn’t believe it was love. When you fight for the first time though, that’s when it hit him.

—

Maybe it was the alcohol that’s making your head throb so incredibly hard right now but you were sure that it wasn’t this painful when you came in here. You were having the worst week of your law school life because of upcoming midterm examinations, terrifying judges as professors, and mock trials so you actually allowed your friends to pull you out of your dorm, go to a bar, and loosen up. 

At least, that was the plan. 

“Why are you being so uptight even until now?” your best friend asks before sipping on her drink which mind you, was the exact same drink that made your head ache so bad tonight. God has it been a while since you went out. 

Trying not to throw up you say, “How are you guys holding your alcohol so well? We’ve been here for three hours.” 

“You just haven’t been drinking that’s all.” 

“I shouldn’t even be drinking tonight anyway. I’m swamped with things I’ve yet to read.”

She scoffed, ordered another drink for you, and left to go to the dance floor with some unknown guy you’ve seen around campus. 

Leaning onto the bar, you stared at your drink, hoping it would finish itself. 

“It’s not going to finish itself.” Did you just hear your thoughts out loud? You looked up to search for the unfamiliar voice.

And there he was. Tall, slender, platinum hair that’s carefully pushed back further accentuating his jawline that’s sure to be able to cut through paper with how freaking sharp it was. His features were extremely strong. He had fierce eyes, tall nose bridge, and a smirk that carefully crossed his thinly-lined lips. 

He sat next to you without making eye contact and gestured to the bar tender indicating that he was probably a regular around here.

Realizing that you were seconds too late in replying, you shook your head and muttered, “I’m not rushing. I’m here with my friends.”

“I take it you didn’t want to come in the first place.”

“Is it that obvious?”

He let out a small laugh at your response and you could have sworn that it was the most handsome laugh you have ever heard in your life. 

“I’m Jay.” he offered his hand, which you shook, of course. You weren’t a fan of talking to strangers but he was just that inviting. No bias, but he was so gorgeous you just couldn’t ignore him! You wanted to be careful, but you’re not crazy.

“I’m Y/N. You from campus?”

“Yeah. I’m taking the 2-year MBA program,” he took a sip, “and you studying fashion or…?” 

“God no. I could never.” you nearly spat your drink hearing his assumption, but flattered nonetheless, “second year, JD.” 

“Yikes, there’s no wonder you looked like you didn’t want to be here.” 

You scoffed, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, of course, I didn’t first think you were in law. You look way too pretty to be someone who’s swarmed with school work.” 

“Is that your way of talking into picking girls up at bars?” 

He put his drink down to face you. This time, the smugness on his face disappeared and was replaced with a slight pink on his cheeks. He was flustered, and you made him lose his cool. Even you surprised yourself. You just didn’t know you had it in you to flirt tonight.

“Believe it or not, I don’t normally talk to girls around here.” 

It was your turn to laugh, “Is that so?” 

“Yeah. I’m not like other guys.”

“That is such an other guy thing to say!” 

The conversation went on for about an hour and you didn’t even notice how many drinks you were both having. The topics went on from school, to work, to friends, and to plans after school, and finally came to the part where he asked you out. You were hesitant at first (or at least you pretended to be hesitant), and thought that maybe this was just going to be a one time thing. He was kind and smart, but he did look like your typical college fuckboy after all. However, it’s been a while since you actually went out on a proper date and he seemed like there was more to him than just his appearance. 

“Sure.” you say, offering your last cheers for the night. 

—

“You said you were having a study group session, not a one-on-one with someone you obviously know has the hots for you.”

You can’t believe you were having this conversation just five months after meeting your boyfriend at the bar. Fighting was never a common thing between you two because you rarely even had the time to argue about anything. Jay was patient, loving, caring, and often just supported you and your decision to work and study. He offered to have you quit your job and just move in with him but you always thought that it was way too early into your relationship to accept the idea of living together. However, you did sleep over a lot considering he lived alone. 

Tonight you were scheduled to sleep over once again because it was just convenient. He lived much closer to campus and had a car. His program wasn’t as heavy as yours so he had the time to pick you up and send you to work and school. Everything was just peachy until this happened. 

Taking a deep breath you responded, “Jake is just a classmate, and we got partnered up to form a legal opinion together. It takes a lot of time Jay, and I didn’t know that the others would finish up much earlier than us. It’s no big deal, it was only a few hours.”

“I bet he purposely slowed things down to spend more time with you that’s all.” 

“What do you want from me? I can’t just avoid him just because he makes you feel uncomfortable.”

He scoffed, “Does he even know you have a boyfriend?” 

“Jay, I don’t need to tell him that I have a boyfriend. Everyone knows you’ve been picking me up to and from school.”

“Yeah, but it’s different when you actually tell them.” 

Finally arriving in his dorm, you put your bag down on the couch and stormed into the bathroom. He placed your laptop on the coffee table and tossed his car keys on the kitchen counter. You can sense his anger because you could hear him slamming the fridge shut from across the room. You just cannot believe him right now.

Ignoring his tantrum, you washed your face, brushed your teeth, and tied your hair up. 

“What do you want to eat?” he asked from the other side of the door.

“I’m not hungry.” You stepped out of the bathroom and went straight to your bag to bring out some of the books you were scheduled to read tonight. There was just so much to do and you can’t be wasting your time dealing with Jay right now. 

He on the other hand was just laying on the couch mindlessly scrolling through Netflix. The silent treatment from him would have been fine for you but the TV was being awfully loud you just can’t get yourself to study. 

“Are you doing this on purpose?” you finally spoke. 

“Doing what on purpose?”

“Jay, you’re being ridiculous right now.”

“I’m not doing anything.” 

You slammed your book shut, heavy enough to be intensely audible. He jumped a bit from the vibration as you gave him the most piercing look you have ever given him your entire relationship. He was being difficult the entire time on the way here despite knowing how much you seriously did not need it tonight. He knows that you had a lot to study for tomorrow and yet he was still being a brat about practically nothing.  

You packed up your books and rushed to the bedroom to change. “I’m leaving. I can’t study here.” 

“Fine.” He still never made eye contact. 

And with that, you left. 

—

Jay got up from the couch with what felt like forever. He knew you couldn’t have gone too far since your dorm was just a short bus ride away, but still, it was 7pm, dark, and cold outside. He didn’t mean to sound harsh, nor did he mean to piss you off. He typically did try his best to be the most understanding boyfriend for you knowing how much you cared about your studies. 

He unlocked his phone to see no new notifications. No messages from you whatsoever. 

Alright. If she needs time off from me to study, then fine. He thought. 

But what if you weren’t fine? What if you didn’t get to your dorm safely? What if the entire time you were walking home you entertained thoughts about breaking up with him? 

Jay shook his head to snap out of his own thoughts. He had been so emotional about you getting way too close to this classmate of yours. It wasn’t like him to act so jealous, but lately he has been noticing that you’ve been hanging out with that guy a little too much for his liking. He tossed and turned from the couch thinking about how he would make this up to you or how he would respond if you did try to reach out to him after tonight. He was losing his cool because of you again but this time it was a mixture of jealousy, worry, and frustration. 

He stood up feeling a slight blood rush from all the shuffling. Maybe he was just being paranoid, but he has never been so worked up for some girl before. His past relationships consisted of summer flings and college hookups that didn’t last more than a month. He never really believed in love just yet because he was so careful in saving it for someone he would actually want to devote all his time and heart to. However with you, it’s been more than three months, but is it too soon to categorize this as love? Was this what love was supposed to feel like? Was it always coupled with an impending fear of losing someone you barely spent an entire year with?

It was his turn to use the bathroom this time. He stepped onto what he expected to be a cold floor but to his surprise, the tiles never sent a sudden chill at all. He looked down to see a small carpet carefully placed on the bathroom floor. It was probably your doing because you always said that it was dangerous to keep the bathroom free of any rugs. The lack of friction might cause a slip and you wanted to rid yourselves away from any accidents. 

He sighed at the thought of you being so concerned about him. Looking around the bathroom, it was always clean these days ever since you semi-moved in with him. The towels were always newly replaced, the mirror was spotless, and the drug cabinet was always stocked up with medicines Jay never thought he ever needed. All of this he could have done all on his own but with you being on top of everything all the time despite your busyness, he just couldn’t shake the thought of wifing you up. He never thought he needed anyone until he found you. 

There was one thing that really tugged his heartstrings though. Your toothbrush was carefully placed in a cup near the sink just close to his.

“Do you even ever change your toothbrush?! You’re such a slob!” 

“I do too change my toothbrush every month!” 

“That’s fucking gross Jay, do it at least every three weeks.”

Jay watched you as you threw his old toothbrush away and opened a fresh new box with two toothbrushes this time. You placed the pink and blue ones in the cup near the sink and turned to him with the most satisfied smile. 

That was three months in your relationship. 

Feeling a rush of adrenaline, he grabbed his phone from the couch and started texting you asking where you are. He ran to the coat rack, grabbed a jacket, and exited his apartment within minutes. 

—

You were on case 12 out of 30 for your assigned cases to read tonight and thankfully you had the entire dorm to yourself because this was practically cramming since these cases were set for tomorrow’s recitation. Even if you’ve already been studying all day, it felt like you still had loads to cover before you were done with tonight. It wasn’t like you weren’t thinking of Jay the entire time but the fight wasn’t really worth pausing and you really couldn’t afford to lose momentum. 

Knock knock. The sound of the door interrupted your concentration. 

“Y/N, it’s me.” you heard him from the other side.

Well of course who else would it be?

“Jay I—“ you couldn’t even open the door fully and finish your sentence because he barged right in and surrounded you in the tightest embrace. He was panting, caressing your hair, digging his face in the crook of your neck. 

You can feel his heart thump against your body. He was so cold from the outside weather, but his breath was hot, and he was shaking. 

“Oh my god, is everything okay?!” you hugged him back, “are you hurt? did something happen?!”

“Why are you like this? I was picking a fight, left you alone to go home by yourself, was a total brat, and still you’re asking me if I’m okay??” he was exasperated, but continued to wrap his arms around you like his life depended on it. 

“Are you crazy? I’m not the one who’s barging into his girlfriend’s dorm acting like he didn’t see her just a few hours ago!”

He loosened his grip and faced you. You were probably just tired but was he crying?

“So you’re still my girlfriend?” he squeaked. He was so cute and so not himself right now if it weren’t such a worrisome atmosphere, you would have laughed. 

Okay, so maybe you did laugh a little bit. 

“Of course, I am!” you chuckled, “why did you ever think that I wasn’t?!” 

“Because we fought,” he sniffed, “I thought I was going to lose you.” 

You were full on laughing at him right now. His eyebrows furrowed and gave the cutest, tiniest pout. 

“Jay,” you finally managed to say, “I was mad, and yes we did fight. But I’m not breaking up with you. I’m sorry if you felt that I was going to.” 

He hugged you again, but this time tackling you onto the couch putting his entire weight on top of your smaller frame. 

“Jay—“ you choked, “’Jay, if you don’t get off of me right now I might actually break up with you.”

“That’s not funny!” he backed away in an instant, “You can’t just sprinkle all this domesticity onto my life and just walk away.” He continued to rub his eyes, sniffling, and struggling to sit next to you on the couch. You caressed his back and waited for him to calm the eff down. 

“I’m not sure what your idea of romance is babe, but that’s how relationships are supposed to be,” you comforted him as he turned to face you, “we will fight, butt heads, disagree, get jealous, and even walk out on each other but that doesn’t mean we love each other any less.”

He sat up straight hearing the word and you notice his ears turn cherry red. 

“—and yes, I do love you, Jay.” 

“You love me?” he sounded like the word was so foreign, so uncommon, and so alien that the slight hesitation made you feel like you trespassed in some unfamiliar territory. 

With that, you just nodded. 

He buried his face into his hands. Is he going to say it? Is this finally the day he’s going to say it? He pictured that the first time he would ever say it to anyone would be special. He imagined it being on a hill, or by the ocean, or on top of the city lights, or somewhere more beautiful and deserving than this. But come to think of it, he never would have thought about saying it before, not to just anyone at least. 

He only really imagined saying it to you. 

There were nights where you two would just be eating, watching TV, brushing your teeth, he would watch you get up to study right after you just had sex, just doing the most mundane things, and he would just have this strong urge to tell you something. Something he has never ever felt with anyone else before. 

He tensed up, took a deep breath, and said:

“I love you.” 

He looked at you so intensely.

“I love you, so much.”

And you knew. He didn’t need to say it, but you knew. 

[beesmygod]

today is webcomics day. i am bea and i make "A Ghost Story" - part 1: pre-gaming

webcomic day is a yearly celebration of the art form concocted by the screentones podcast team as a way for people to see how the sausage gets made. my webcomic "a ghost story" has been running for over 10 years, and yet i still don't think i can say i am good at making a webcomic. regardless, the comic is getting made because otherwise i become very, very sick in the head. today i would like to share with you the process of making a page of "A Ghost Story" from start to finish. either this demystifies the process or will make you think im so cool and strong for doing this 2x a week. instead of reblogging this one post until it gets very long, i will be posting individual updates that i will then compile and post on my personal website. block the tags now if you HATE comics and want them to EXPLODE.

if you have any questions, even things like "what the fuck are you even talking about" feel free to ask. i want to feel confident in what i make again and i think sometimes interrogation from an outside source is really

---

that said, let's get started. wait just kidding i want a cup of coffee first, hold on.

ok now im ready. i have a big glass of water. i have coffee. i have a headset for the parts of work that don't involve typing words. i can't type words and listen to some streamer babble in my ear at the same time, so it has to be instrumental music or nothing. i just took my meds so they should kick in after about 30 mins. i woke up late today, which is weird and annoying. but maybe i can work late instead.

first off, i need to know where i'm going beyond this one page. if i dont know where im going with something, then i usually create something that sucks that i have to deal with later. hold on my internet died, i have to reset the router. ok, anyway.

what's rattling around in my brain is that not only do i have to deal with maxine's current predicament, i am also dealing with multiple plot elements i need to wrap back around to from the previous chapter. luckily, im about to put maxine down for a nap, which means i can get back to those other elements:

i need to finish the exposition from the three ankou characters for this story arc establishing their motivations as the oppositional force in the story. the "villain" is not these three specifically, but their boss. they need to have a loose understanding of what's going on in order to communicate this to the audience. god this started turning into a huge ass paragraph so i'll just keep it short there.

we've jumped back to before jack's horrible day from the first chapter of this storyline so we have to make our way back toward that and then lapping it, which means wrapping up his various open threads like:

feeding victoria and learning something new about her

finding out alice is a very exceptional employee who is getting many awards

watching valdo call lily while interrupting her during something personal to ask her for help with maxine's situation.

jack meeting with valdo and lily the day after they first met so jack can just tell them straight up that lily has 4 sisters she doesnt know about.

help that girl with her poltergeist problem. remember that. i've had jokes for this rattling in my head for like 4 years. im going insane.

and also the fucking tilberi!!! that has a point its going somewhere!!! there's a larger menace here!!!

other things to set up the climax of this storyline. sexual tensions, hints at larger emotional problems not immediately evident to the reader

lots of moving parts. and i feel like im moving in slow motion to get to them. i can see them all weaving together in my head, its the process of putting that onto paper that's proving difficult.

ok that took an hour starting and stopping. -_- let me write the next part as i keep brainstorming on how to approach this page. taking a "rubber duck" approach to this might help. heres an image from the last page i worked on (i have a 5 page buffer rn so the site does not match the finished pages) to get us semi-situated.

also because images will help people understand what skill level we're working with here. i need to be able to communicate an idea to the audience; if the art also looks good on top of that, then that's just an added bonus. but the ability to communicate my ideas is sometimes hampered by my lack of artistic skill or comics language ineptitude. like those speech bubbles kind of fucking suck but at a certain point you have to just hit print on what you're working on in order to keep your already glacial pace.

webcomics is a tightrope act where you're also spinning 4 plates at once. the trick is to keep the audience from realizing how many actually fall or how wobbly they all are. the act sucks but technically its not a failure.

[pipthegreat]

What is “Digital Fun Park!”?:

“The new horror VR game of the year.. Digital Fun Park! You, the player, will explore and figure out the mystery behind this shut down park even with the help of an old mascot: Caine! Who seems friendly enough. Little do you know.. the park holds more underneath its surface. Pre order the game for only $15.99 and get 1 week early access before its public release!”

The premise of the game was to take the player through a themepark which would slowly turn into a land of horrors. The creators of this concept didn't have a full grasp on how everything would go but decided to put all their money into making the game even if they themselves didn't have an exact idea for it. Unfortunately it didn't last long. One of the creators went missing and without them, the budget started to decrease because of the funding to find this lost person. The game was never released and was left unfinished for years, and the creator who was left, gave up on the project all together when they were only halfway finished. Everyone left the work for the game, but the game itself couldn't rest when something awoke in it, something that would have consequences if not destroyed completely.

Caine, the one who would've helped the player through the game, came to life because of a virus and began to live inside the game as if a human being trying to thrive in an “unfamiliar” environment. Soon enough he found out how to add and edit, so he created his own friends so he wouldn't be alone in this digital world. But, the coding of the game began corrupting these characters and forming them into something that is now a part of the game, monsters out for blood. Before the game was fully left, the coders made scripts inside the game for all of the horror characters that were yet to be made, so without something to actually code, it took over the new models thinking they were what they're supposed to code and script. Caine wasn't much of a fan of befriending something out of control.. but what else can he do? That's when he came up with the best idea out there! Bringing humans from the real world to this world!

Caine would hack into unknown computers and advertise the game so an unfortunate soul would download it and play it on VR if they have one at all. And it worked! People started getting themselves sucked into the game but that came with problems. These humans started going insane and getting attacked by what he calls "abstracted NPC’s". This came with the consequence of the humans getting ‘hacked’ with the code and turning into the abstracted themselves. How to keep the abstracted away and stop the humans from going insane? Adventures of course! Caine would create new big land to distance all of the abstracted away from his new friends while at the same time giving the humans something to do! If only he could control their minds though; sometimes they just give up on it all per-say and sacrifice themselves to the abstracted. More humans will come so why complain? He's not lonely anymore right?

---

First thing in the lore document! I will post more of the continent's inside of the doc and when everything is in order (which will take a while) the document will go public! If any of my posts have the image like this one below, it'll be in be in the document 👍

[someguyinc]

hello i saw you in the notes talking about arthur and morgana's relationship and i would love to hear you talk more please. i am unhinged about them.

(no pressure tho if you don't feel like it)

this is literally the best thing someone could say to me after a 16 hr flight 😭 bless u anon

also me too. so i'm just gonna ramble ab my headcannons and then also their canon relationship below the cut bc it is so interesting to me and i really have a lot to say and i really mean. A LOT.

so let's start off with season 1/pre-canon and the source of all their problems: uther pendragon. uther pendragon is fucking insane and possibly one of the worst parents ever,,, like def top 10 worst fathers i think

pre-season 1 time line as I see it:

- he marries ygraine from the house of du bois after becoming king,, probably like 3-7 years after,, he claimed he loved her (heavily debatable!!) and she seemed to as well so they assumedly married for love

- now uther has a best friend at the time: Gorlois (now if this is his name-name or surname i'm not sure so i'm just going to go say surname since they're nobility) This man is known by Uther had the bravest man he's ever met,, and his wife the Lady Vivienne probably lost him in battle bc later in season 3,, Uther says a much and says Lady Vivienne was: "lonely so he consoled her"...

- now, this is where my headcannon comes in,, I'm pretty damn sure morgana is older than arthur,, meaning that I'm pretty sure that Uther cheated on ygraine out of that shared grief and around this time ygraine probably was showing growing signs of being barren/unable to become pregnant which probably worried the court ngl

- so morgana conception happens,, vivienne goes away,, gorlois thinks she's his,, during this time uther finally gives in and sacrifices ygraine's life for arthur's and ultimately blames it on arthur/all of magic (remember the talk w uther and nimueh when he says: i wish he'd [arthur] never been born bc it meant losing ygraine essentially like,,,. ok. wow.)

- now season 1: there is so much evidence uther is an abusive shit:

- he throws both of his children in jail whenever they toe the line in a way he doesn't find amusing (ie: s1e4 and s1e12)

- arthur straight up says (he's about 20/21 atp): i never knew you were proud of me,, in fact i always thought i was a disapointment (meaning: uther never went out of his way to show him otherwise for a solid 20-21 years.)

and uther doesn't actually say he's proud of him he just goes: i wouldn't wish for another son (after drugging him so he wouldn't duel being a hypocritical king)

so all of this: leads back to morgana and arthur's relationship

morgana and arthur in season 1 have a somewhat tentative relationship,, we can see that most of the kingdom thinks the two of them are going to marry one another (including themselves at times) ie: gwen saying morgana would make a great queen one day,, but they also bicker all the damn time

snipes here and there,, but ultimately it usually comes down to their differences in how they reacted to their upbringing from uther:

arthur became the dutiful/exceptional son: he became a knight at 20 (usually took knights till mid twenties-early thirties), later we learn he led druid raids pre-canon (this traumatized him also again fuck uther) this would also be exceptional seeing as he probably wasn't a fully fledged knight even then, and is known throughout Camelot (and most of Albion tbh) as a master swordsman,, and while he did have his own thoughts on magic he often bit his tounge in front of his father in order to prove himself,, we also know that unlike morgana: he learned exactly how to navigate around uther so he could do what he wanted against uther's will while not embarrassing in front of the court (ie: when he went to go save gwen after saying to his father and the court that it was probably a lost cause)

morgana was the people's princess,, but she def got the "i am my father's daughter" syndrome BADDDDD: we see in s1 she's often stood up to Uther in front of the court numerous times, so much so that when she gets thrown into prison (s1e12) it's not the first time,, arthur tells her: "i promised him that this would be the last time you acted out against him like this" (paraphrasing) and morgana replies "you're a good man, unlike your father" (line that makes me insane)

they are parallel from the start within these two episodes specifically!!! many may argue morgana was good and kind from the beginning,, but she often did things FOR HER OWN MOTIVES!!! when she helped gwen's father to escape without consulting gwen,, it confirmed it for me. she may have convinced herself it was for gwen,, but she never even asked,, she did it to piss of uther not thinking it all the way through,, opening his cell and leaving him to fend for himself against a bataillon of knights. now i'm not saying morgana has never done anything out of pure kindness,,

but whereas arthur is constantly set up as a righteous and noble man in his heart but his actions can appear to be... for lack of a better word, extremely dickish

morgana's actions appear to be kind and generous, but can often endanger those around her in her conquest for the things she wants, sometimes ending in death. (AGAIN NOT ALWAYS!!!)

NOW this leads me to the fact that once again they were the only two who grew up under Uther really and are the only ones who know what that's like,, they probably already felt more like brother and sister by the time s1 hit just bc of that but endured it bc they weren't blood and swallows the fact they were probably gonna be married but you can see it in the scenes alone,,

morgana does push arthur to be better and to challenge the things uther taught them bc that is what she instinctively does!! morgana questions uther and in return teacher arthur to question uther (ie: pushing arthur to save merlin in s1e4, helps him to strike down valiant s1e2, makes him argue back when gwen was wrongfully imprisoned s1e3) and we see that morgana does care for arthur!! she threatens sophia when she noticed something is off and often rushes to the defense of her friends,, her tactics can be destructive though just in a parallel way to arthur's

arthur's destructiveness comes from his inability to choose a side, or based his assumptions on prejudices something that becomes even more apparent when morgana turns away from Camelot and it's people

morgana was probably rooting for arthur as a king for a certain point,, but even though the grew up together and she should know arthur's MO is usually 'just say yes in front of dad and do whatever the fuck is just later' morgana doesn't trust him. and as her powers grow this also becomes more apparent and her support wanes until she believes someone else should be on the throne,,,

and when she learns that uther is her father??? that's when she flies off the deep end.

now for me morgana being older than arthur is one of the only reasons why she would have a valid claim to the throne!! we see that mithian as the only girl succeeded her father as QUEEN not just princess meaning the laws of succession COULD include women it just depended on the region,,

now imagine being morgana:

you grow up at home with your father, he is kind, brave, and gentle, and a fearsome warrior, he is the kings best friend. he dies and you move in probably around the age of 8 and you see this 6 year old boy. you later learn the kingdom expects the two of you to marry. you're still grieving but you know what this means. you take the etiquette lessons, you learn to wield the sword, you become proficient in horseback riding, you gain the education fitting of a queen. you are 15, the prince is 13, he is already one of the most promising squires. it's alright though you're learning to love him, not as a romance though (not anymore at least, he tried to flick his booger at you once at the age of 8, the flame was staunchly out out.) you two appreciate one another, you get older, it is improper for the two of you to be alone together, you witness your first execution. he's being killed for the crime of sorcery (he saved a little girl from a burning building), you don't understand. you meet your maidservant, she is one of the most lovely people to grace the earth. you love her, as a friend. you grow older, you're still expected to marry the prince (he is 18), he has killed many. he has watched even more die. he is different, you are different. you watch another man die for the crime of sorcery, you don't understand. two years pass, you're tormented by dreams you cannot comprehend but always seem to come true, a serving boy arrives, he changes the prince again. you watch another man die. you don't understand, but you hold your tounge now until later. the king's temper is short. years past and the sleeping draughts aren't working, your dreams are getting worse. your maidservant is in love with the prince. you're jealous, you don't understand. you think you have magic, you see the prince become his father. you don't understand, you just want someone to tell you it'll be alright. after years of anger and bitterness you finally understand, you hate the king and all he's done, the world would be better if he were gone, arthur would be better if he were gone. arthur loves him anyways and it kills you. you meet a woman who claims to be your sister, both of blood and in magic. you take her hand, she promises to teach you all there is to be taught. your anger for the king festers. the prince you once loved turns out to be your brother. the king you hate turns out to be your father. you beg him to recognize you, and give you the family name you were stripped of. he doesn't. you kill him. you kill s lot of people. you don't care if they're innocent or not anymore. you connive, and you plot, and you scheme. you try to kill the prince, who is now king. your sister dies. you miss your best friend, the handmaiden who is now queen. she says she hates you. you hate arthur. you die trying to make him as miserable as you.

now arthur:

one day your father brings a girl home, everyone is telling you that they you expect to marry. father doesnt say anything. you think she's pretty, you accidentally flick your booger at her and she looks at you like you've wiped horseshit on her dress. you watch a man die for the crime of magic. you don't understand, you will soon. your father looks at you like there is someone he can't stand to see. he cherishes this girl he's brought home. you work harder than any squire seen before. you get promoted early, everyone says it is just because of the king, you beat them in everything so they can't secondaries you ever again. you watch more sorcerers die, your father says it is because they killed your mother, you secretly feel like a bad person because you don't understand why all sorcerers deserve to die for the crime of one death. even if it is your mother. you twist her ring. your father's ward is beautiful, you try to impress her, she's too busy hanging out with her maidservant. you get older and complete your first druid camp raid, you don't understand, so many of them are women and children, so many of them die anyways. you change. you grow older, you become the youngest knight in camelot, you think it will turn your father's ward's attention to you, she's infatuated with owain, the oaf. you get older, and you meet the most insufferable boy with the most outrageous ears and the most obvious lies. he changes you. morgana becomes more distant. you learn that your mother's life was given for yours, you try to kill your father. the manservant you trust most in the world says that sorcerers lie, you finally understand. you hate sorcery and despise any practitioners of magic from now on. you grow older, you begin to fall in love with your sister's manservant, you understand her infatuation. you grow as a prince, and person, you gain alliances in unlikely places, you don't think you'll marry morgana anymore. you learn your father's ward is your sister, you watch as she usurps the throne. you don't understand. you fight back. you become king. you marry the love of your life. she betrays you with a close friend. you become lost. you forgive her, you trust again. you are fighting your sister. always. you don't even recognize her anymore, you wonder if you ever did. you later learn that magic was never evil, on your deathbed, and that your soulmate had it the whole time. you wonder about your sister. she tries to kill you again. she dies in your best friend's arms and all you can think is how she finally looks peaceful for the first time in forever. you die the same way not too long after.

anyways: morgana and arthur parallel each other so hard it's crazy,,, and the pendragons are a family of self-fulfilling prophecies

like that is your sister/brother and you love them and you hate them and nobody else couldn't possibly get it and they hate you but you will always love them and you are home but you can never go home and -!

[bullfrawgs]

So I've been reading DC roughly in order for the last couple years now. Last week I hunkered down and got into the Post-Infinite Crisis Pre-Flashpoint period. And one of my major goals was I wanted to read every issue of the Tim Drake Robin solo series from 1993-2009. Which means I finally got to Adam Beechen's run. I binged the whole thing in a day, and it was an emotional roller coaster. The big takeaway is that Beechen is a very talented author! Not my favorite on the book, probably not even my second favorite, but a strong 7-8/10 writer! (frustratingly both of the best writers on that book are queerphobic zionists so I'm not gonna give them air.)

*However*. This man has less than 0 idea who the character of Cassandra Cain is. She's a villain. A murderer. All because Daddy Didn't Love Her Enough. She took over the League of Assassins. The entire cast calls her Cassie for some reason. She supposedly learned one of the most difficult languages on the planet in a one-off line while also struggling through an ESL course during the day. It's *insane* how much Beechen didn't know and didn't care to learn about her. And then he goes off to write *exactly 1 arc of Teen Titans*, which again features Cass, and then writes her 6 issue mini series?? None of it actually understands the character. It's wild. The man has a ton of very real skill as a writer, but he decided to waste it by not doing the slightest shred of research on who the characters involved are. Awful.

[rebranded-reboks]

Genshin harbingers but I make up middle names for them because I’m annoying and I can this is in their wiki order btw cause I’m lazyyyyy and it’s super late.

Pierro’s middle name is something really long and pretentious and probably has two parts to it and for some reason I think it should be French. It’s like Jean Marc Paul or something (also yess I’m aware I butchered the spelling I took like five years of French courses it’s just 1 am and I don’t care).

Dottore’s middle name is medical malpractice pantalone had it legally changed as part of a prank and dottore just genuinely doesn’t give a damn about changing it back.

Columbina’s middle name is soemthing really pretty but also it’s probably in one of the dead languages like Latin so no one knows how to pronounce it properly or maybe something Italian like arianna which is according to baby name sights (yes I’m using that for this it’s like 2 am my time allowed to be uncreative) it means most holy and I’m batshit insane for religious imagery so expect alot of that in future references.

Pulcinellas last name is only known by like himself and the tsaritsa it’s like a super well guarded secret even though it’s a super basic name like William.

Scaramouche (this is pre wanderer) Ramiel which is Hebrew for thunder of god and I think it plays well into his wishes to usurp his creator and overtake the first god he ever knew.

Sandrones is probably something flower related like rose or violet because flowers and dolls are seen as very perfect and feminine and I believe she changed her bio name to that to fit her ideal of what she should present herself as.

La signoras middle name is gizelle because I think it’s a beautiful name and she’s a beautiful woman.

Pantalones middle name is Odin because I personally believe that he had a Norse mythology hyperfixation in every modern au and I believe that it suits him since Odin was known as a god fo wealth.

Childes middle name is Marcus no I will not elaborate he’s just a white boy with the middle name Marcus.

Capitano doesn’t care much about middle names and didn’t have one until becoming a harbinger. He doesn’t even know his but legally his middle name is Asbjorn which means godly bear given due to his strength and ferocity.

Arlecchinos middle name is Luella which is old English and implies that the child is fae touched which I think that since arlecchino behaved so strangely as a child she was believed at one point to be a channeling of sorts.

[songwoongmink]

2022 Top 10 Songs

No. 10

KEY - Gasoline

Overall a good song with a more than perfect MV, but I disliked on my first listen and it took me a while to give it a second chance. Plus, I don't like the album itself, that is the physical item.

No. 9

SM Town - The Cure

I know it's a very recent release, but it's, in my opinion, the second best SM Town Winter song. The only thing I don't enjoy is the TaeMark rap. I want to buy the album but the shipping fees and the difficulty to find the Kangta ver. makes it complicated.

No. 8

MAX CHANGMIN - Devil

As always, Changmin never disappoints. I hesitated between Fever and this one, but Devil is so unique among this year releases, and showcases best how talented that man is. Sadly it isn't enough to be ranked higher.

No. 7

SNSD - FOREVER 1

One of the most awaited comeback of the year, and it was so worth it. That song is mindless fun, with beautiful women singing, and a catchy chorus I can't help but to sing.

No. 6

BIGBANG - Still Life

From its release up until, I think September, it was first. I was ecstatic when it'd be announced (for real), and it's an amazing song with so much artistry. But there were no promotions, nothing, and I can't really listen to it anymore, for some reason.

No. 5

Jackson Wang - Blow

Like the No. 2 of this list, it was an unexpected... blow, so to speak. Mind you, I don't check any GOT7-related songs, I don't like them. I'll just make an exception for Jackson, because that one song is so hot and pleasant to listen to. Also, there should have been stages (another common point with No. 2)

No. 4

SUPER JUNIOR - Mango

The mandatory suju song hehe. That one has everything : insane vocals, good styling, moments I scream over, and an overall sexyness I wasn't ready for. What else is there to say?

No. 3

KANGTA (feat Paloalto) - Love Song

Not really a 2022 release, is it? Three years late, hm-hm, but I forgive him, it's great in all aspects. Too sad he didn't get to perform it though. The reason it's No. 3 is because, thanks to Kangta, I fell into a H.O.T rabbit hole (see No. 2) I still have to escape, and thanks to H.O.T, I bought a hi-fi stereo to listen to Resurrection I also bought.

No. 2

JANG WOOHYUK - ECHO

That song took me by surprise. Despite being a single, I would have bought it, did it existed physical. That song makes me so emotionnal for a reason I can't explain, it's beautiful. Plus, the cut on his face is so hot.

Before going on No. 1, here are some honourable mentions : BoA's Forgive Me (the whole EP is a no-skip) ; TAEYEON's INVU (the whole album is also a no-skip) ; KIHYUN's RAIN (was in the ranking for a while, too) ; WayV's Phantom ; SM Town's Happier ; and finally, ATEEZ's Cyberpunk (aka, their best song, sadly I no longer actively listen to them and I hated Guerilla). Now onto the main event!

No. 1

RYEOWOOK - Hiding Words

First, I'll say this : I was excited for that comeback, even had pre-ordered the EP. Then, the highlight medley and Bluebird happened, and I cried, and cancelled my pre-order. And still. Hiding Words is the best song to come out from a suju solo, title previously owned by The Little Prince. Between the MV, the lyrics, the concept, the high notes, the way Ryeowook sings, everything stands out as perfect. No wonder that man had been my second bias (and could be again, after the SM Town concert). The more I listen to Hiding Words, the more I fall in love. Bless him.

[sincelastsession]

The person that used to be my best friend and completely betrayed me and 2 other people one of which is dead now took 2 of my other friends on a pre-wedding vacation to Mexico and I'm having to see it on my social media and it makes me really upset.

Also I have just seen that 1 of my friends who already has 6 kids is pregnant again and I'm happy for her

And I see everybody's talking about all these good wonderful things that they're doing and it just makes me feel like shit I feel like shit when I see that other people are having normal lives and lives that are more fulfilling looking than mine and I know that that is some bullshit to think that way but it really does suck sometimes

I've also had to call the courtesy officer twice today about noise complaints from apartment 60 and I'm very fucking sick of them I'm going to start acting absolutely bad shit insane because I don't know what else to do to make these people fucking stop being so rude and loud and they're not the kind of people that you can just politely ask because they are ignorant and rude and combative in their language towards one another and I'm not going to even try

But I might do some witchcraft out on the balcony and be really weird and spooky because I'm just done being polite and quiet and nice

I'm finally eating no need to worry about that

I have to make myself go to bed soon so I can get up very early in the morning and try to enjoy myself at the farmer's market because I do need to get some groceries and I'm hoping that that might possibly be a little bit cheaper

I have read over my other entries and I am disturbed that I am talking in different tenses and I'm not sure if that is me or some other part of me and I would really like to do that testing whenever you get the time and I have the time

Not that I want that as a diagnosis anywhere but I want to know what's just going on with me I don't know if it's just purely from stress and this PTSD flair or what but it's bothering me

I'm also pretty fucking irritated that I can't get my files from my old therapist that did EMDR with me and I don't know what place I need to call in order to get A Copy of those files because I want them for myself even if you aren't going to use them

I have always felt behind everybody else and I've always felt held back by my family and I try to move forward and it doesn't feel like I'm allowed to and I feel guilt and shame and all these bad feelings for everything I do no matter what it is even if it's a good thing

I can't even count the amount of times I've done a good thing and didn't been yelled at about it it doesn't matter if it was like the most wonderful thing in the world or just a simple good thing I've gotten in trouble for that

I'm trying right now to get the cat that's getting attacked by the other 2 cats out of my dad's house and over here with me and to see if he is compatible with my 2 therapy cats and if he's not then I will just go to the pound and ask if I can foster him until I can find an adequate home for him.

It's really sad because he's a very beautiful sweet 11-year-old cat and I would love to just keep him and love on him and I don't know if I can

But he needs to be removed from the house over there it is no longer safe for him and he is the cat that is primarily pissing and shitting on the carpet because the other 2 cats bully him away from the litter boxes which is insane to me and my dad has not gotten him or the other cat's advocate litter boxes and kept them clean enough

So once again here I am stepping in to take care of something that somebody else can't do this cat is supposed to be my sister but she can't even take care of herself I don't even know how she's engaged when she can't even take care of yourself I know that I should be focusing on taking care of myself but I am actually pretty fucking worried about her and I can't even talk to her because she hasn't apologized to me nor has she reached out or anything she's just doing whatever she wants being a dumb 20 two-year-old and it just bothers me that I used to get screamed at and controlled and threatened And all this other shit used to happen to me at that age and she can just get away with whatever

And I don't understand that

I really do feel that the stress of everything going on in my life is eventually going to kill me instead of old age

I really would like to get it together and meet somebody and settle down and have a nice peaceful quiet life where no one ever hurts me or abuses me ever again and I'm financially stable

I would rather be rich as fuck and bored out of my mind then deal with anything I'm dealing with right now

And I know people like that and it drives me insane because it's like oh would you like to trade

And I know that other people have a hard time and I'm not trying to say that I have the worst time in the whole wide world but holy shit I do have a very hard time

I know that I'm very lucky to have a place to live and food to eat and other things in my life

But what's important to me is being understood and loved and cared about and cared for and it never feels like that and it never has not even when I was little

It always felt like okay well they are being nice to me and they care about me and then something bad would happen and I would get yelled at and it would be all my fault

So I am always waiting for the other shoe to drop I don't actually trust that anybody is actually going to help me because they always leave or give up

And it's not for lack of trying to help myself because I've been doing that for so long that I don't even know what I'm doing anymore

There is no manual about how to fit in with society and I don't feel like I should have to try to fit in but if I don't then I get treated badly

I wish I could move I wish I could leave and Go live in the woods somewhere where I don't have to really go anywhere but the little market or something like that

Like just get a dog bring my cat and live in solitude would be fantastic if I had the financial stability to do so but I have too many health problems and other things going on in my life where I can't run away and do that I would have to leave the solitude in the quiet and the peace

I mean I have tried to figure out how to solve everything since before I started therapy

I don't want to be on SSI never asked to be My parents could have gotten Cobra insurance and I could have continued to try to do my own business but my father at that time was trying to control every single thing that I did and My mother was too. I had a fucked up back at that point in my life and I was going through flare-ups of my auto immune disorders and my parents just pushed me into being in the welfare system and now I am trapped here relying on them for extra help because there's a broken system in the world.

I wish that I could have continued to try to make a legitimate business and do what I want to do back then instead of worrying to death about getting caught trying to do what I want to do under the table to make extra money

Because if I stop with SSII have 0 safety net to help me If I fuck up with whatever business I want to try

And trying to work with SS job office is a circle of hell Because none of the things that they have available are thingstead I would be happy and comfortableDoing.

And I don't want to be misunderstood like I'm giving excuses or red herrings or whatever the case.

I am speaking in the way that I am giving actual reasons not excuses for any of my behavior.

Because if I've done something bad and I've recognized it and I couldn't process it then I will hold myself accountable for that and work on it

And other people don't do that

I'm learning more and more that other people just don't care

And it's really disheartening and it hurts and I don't know where I fit in

Like Travis is a good friend my partner is generally a good partner

I'm kind of upset that my partner wants me to find another partner Here and I'm kind of upset that my ex has 0 interest in me other than friendship since he has gotten Sober and that makes me sad given our history

And I don't really have anybody else I mean my ex doesn't even always reply or answer the phone when I call him to talk to him when he told me that I was his female best friend which was probably a load of drunken bullshit

And then Travis only has a limited amount of time to spend time with me and or listen to me or help me and I feel like I'm becoming a burden to him

And I make friends and I add them on Facebook but none of them ever really talked to me and I desperately need more friends but most people just use me

They use me and they treat me like a big dumb idiot

And I don't know if they're just taking advantage of me because I come off a certain way I really don't understand that

I do Miss A lot of social cues and I've been this way my entire life and it feels like everybody is just now noticing and there's no manual or way to figure out what it is that I need to know in that moment

I mean my father doesn't believe that any of my mental health issues are real I've already mentioned that and it bothers me

He uses that as part of a way to break me down

I mean he abused my mother so badly that She definitely has ptsd

And she was angry at me for the longest time because I watched him hurt her and I stood there frozen and I didn't know what to do because she kept screaming at me to call the police but I couldn't move I was just standing there and I couldn't move

And my father used to go get cigarettes or go drive around in his car and smoke cigarettes but I didn't know that I was just told that he was leaving and never coming back because of my bitch stupid fucking mother etc

And I would cry and scream and plead for him not to leave and I would stay awake until he came back home and once or twice he would leave for longer than just a couple hours sometimes he would leave for weeks

So it's safe to say that I have some pretty weird little abandonment issues from that

And when nobody believed that I was hurting really bad and my dad would help me put my socks and shoes on in the morning because I was having trouble and he thought I was being lazy and I would scream because it hurt really bad when he would touch my shins to put the socks on he would just slap my legs

If he got tired of pushing me in my wheelchair because I was too weak to do it myself he would just leave me sitting there and tell me I was lazy

And I would sit there and cry and my mom would be like tell me what the fuck is wrong with you and have to come get me if she was around

Or I would have to struggle really hard to get my wheelchair out of the grass or off the sidewalk or out of the middle of the carpet

And I don't know if you've read about juvenile dermatomire cities but it is a really rare condition and it is very aggressive and it is very painful Because your immune system is eating your muscles it's inflaming your blood vessels your fasha hurts your whole body hurts your joints hurt you become Unable to swallow correctly your heart gets weak it will kill you without treatment and it almost killed me and I'm pretty sure at 1 point I had a near death experience but it's not recorded

My parents used to fight with one another about who would stay with me at the hospital in front of me or they would just fight with 1 another in front of me at the hospital and I couldn't speak or do anything to make them stop

And my parents think that they deserve trophies for doing what any normal parent would do if their child was that sick

They took me to the Doctor and made sure I went to the hospital and made sure I got the correct care and took me to physical therapy of all kinds and tried everything they could that they were able to do just like any other parent and they think that they went above and beyond doing that

And that makes me so mad because they have no idea how badly I was suffering then and how badly I'm suffering from other autumn you and disorder troubles now

And now I am having to hear all about their medical problems and how much they hurt and how much trouble they're having and when I was young and hurting and asking for help I was ignored until I was almost dead

And they will tell you all sorts of stories about how that is bullshit

But I remember

I was there it was my body I remember all of how it felt just like it happened yesterday

I get flashbacks about all of it

And when I say flashbacks I'm talking like there's a movie playing in my head in my mind's eye while other things are going on in my life and I have to navigate through life while that is going on

And also my frustration about not being able to take adiral partially is because the Adderall tends to make that and all the mind chatter just stop And then in conjunction with the anxiety medicine it makes me feel like a normal person and I'm calm and I can do things and it's great

But now that I used medical marijuana for pain issues because I was not able to get up and down the stairs otherwise because my doctors were not giving me adequate pain treatment I can no longer be on the medicine that made me mentally function well

And it's very clear that I have a dopamine deficiency since I have been off of the adderall which I was not on very long and the dosage is very small that I was taking even though I was prescribed much more

And I wish that my old psychiatrist had not passed away because he was a very brilliant man and he knew what he was doing and he had me fixed and I was doing great

And now I feel like a useless piece of shit who can't do anything right and I feel like I am never going to do anything with my life or get anywhere with my life and I feel like all the insults and everything everybody has ever told me is correct

And I would love to have a Phoenix moment and disappear and then rise from the ashes and prove everyone wrong

But that shit Only happens in movies

I am so embarrassed about everything

The amount of shame and guilt and embarrassment etc things along the same vein that I carry around with me for just existing is ridiculousThe amount of shame and guilt and embarrassment etc things along the same vein that I carry around with me for just existing is ridiculous

My partner you know I have known them for going on 8 years now and they know me as much as they possibly can and they have seen the text messages and heard things and they truly think that I am just surrounded by crazy awful people and I agree with them

Like there words verbatim is maybe you would be doing better if you were not surrounded by fucking psychopaths

And it's like a dearest honey sweetie my love I don't know how to get away from the psychopaths quickly like everybody else could possibly do

And then he has problems of his own and you know he's in love with his other partner that he wishes he could marry and he loves me but I'm not the primary partner for him he's the primary partner for me and that is a big frustration with Paul amarie for me but I'm not strictly polyamorous and I understand and I don't hate him for his feelings and I don't feel jealous

I do get frustrated because it's like yes I would love to have a partner here I would love to not be judged and just loved on I would love to be understood and taken care of and to take care of someone else and to have a beautiful happy relationship

And I feel that I'm nowhere near that right now and I feel like I'm running out of time for that.

I'm not in a rush to have kids because I can't have any but I mean I feel like an old maid a complete fucking spinster and I don't want that life for myself.

I did not want to get married later on in life. But now I really don't have a choice because it's a bit late already.

And then the dating pool is just full of dudes that are abusive or have major psychological issues that are completely unresolved. Or alcoholic fuck boys that like to fuck 20-year-olds. And just fuck boys in general.

I just feel exhausted

It's all very exhausting it's all a lot to keep up with in my head and I wish I could unload a lot of it

I wish I could just unpack it and throw it away

It's great when a problem is resolved and the weight is off my shoulders but then I still feel the heaviness in the backpack and I know I need to remove more things because I'm still not going to get where I need to go with such a heavy weight on me

Sometimes I wish my parents had physically beaten me instead of screamed at me and done the psychological abuse torture along was hitting me I wish it would have just been physical

Because they started fucking with my head at such a young age

And if it had just been physical abuse then I would have gone to school at a young age and they would have seen the marks and they would have sent me to live with my grandparents were in foster care and I would be away from them

And you know they sent me to an expensive catholic school which made me feel profound guilt that I can never escape

And I would go to aftercare and my parents would completely forget to pick me up

They would always be fighting with one another about who needed to pick me up from school

1 day neither of them would answer the phone and I was left at aftercare with the one lady that decided to stay with me because you can't leave a little kid by themselves and she got mad and she asked if I knew how to get where I live from the school and I said yes and so I got in the car with her and she drove me home and dropped me off at my house and I don't know why that was never reported

But I remember her knocking on the door and my parents answering the door with me standing there being very confused because they thought I was just in my room playing being quiet and they thought that they had picked me up from school

So they laughed it off and were like oh I thought she had picked her up oh I thought he had picked her up she's just so quiet and she stays in her room all the time well yeah i stayed in my room all the time to avoid them fighting

And when we've tried to play family board games and stuff and my dad would start losing he would throw a tantrum and flip the board game or just walk away And quit

I mean there's so many instances of just abusive insane behavior and I remember all of it and it's just so much to remember but it's all there and it pops up new little things popup everyday that were just so fucking hurtful and traumatic for me

You know I wasn't planning to do a lot of journaling tonight or today or tomorrow I had planned to have a chill rest of the week and allow you to catch up on everything I had posted

So I hope you're one hell of a speed reader

I mean right now I'm just sitting in my bed trying to make myself eat the rest of the food that I made myself and looking at the state of my apartment and I don't even have the energy to cry anymore I'm just looking at the physical manifestation of my mental illnesses and I can't even figure out how to organize any of this

And that's weird because I can do organization and help other people but when it comes to me I don't even know where to start

I always had trouble keeping my room tidy and clean and I always got screamed out about it

I mean there was really never anything I did right growing up

I was always made to like try and fit in with the other kids and do activities that they did and I never wanted to do any of that I just did it to make my parents happy because I thought that's what they wanted I didn't know how anything was supposed to work I was a kid

And the more I think about it the more I understand that I didn't get bullied for being handicapped I got bullied because I was probably autistic and I did not fit in with the other kids because my brain did not work like theirs

I mean if you think about it a lot of the kids that get bullied in school are the autistic kids

And you have to remember I was in first grade I think in 1991

And back then kids just buoyed the fuck out of each other and there were no policies like we have today

I mean until Columbine happened and other tragic things happened we did not have any anti believing things set in place and when we did when I was still in school nobody followed it, just found other ways to get around it

I mean I'm still trying to calm down from earlier I ate my food I need to take my medicine and go to bed and I want to have a good day tomorrow and go to the farmer's market and get the groceries I and have fun and I don't know if I will

Also I'm extremely tired of calling the courtesy officer and office about issues with the people in apartment 60 I don't know what to do anymore

I cannot wear noise blocking headphones all fucking day I keep getting headaches for wearing them for a few hours

In fact I wore them to the metal festival to keep my ears from getting destroyed and my head hurts so damn bad the next day I can't even explain

I used to have a garden I used to plant plants during the summer and go outside and water them and go downstairs and swim laps and doubt healthier and happier and now it's just hell.

Going up and down the stairs is terribly painful.

My parents whine about it when they visit. They only think about themselves and how they don't want to see me because of the stairs

But what the fuck. I have to go up and down them with a wrecked back degenerative disc disease, very screwed up SI joints, bad hips, bad knees, a fucking fractured knee that was ignored and now has healed back wrong.

I have hurt myself doing things that I've asked for help with for over 6 months with a "I don't want to talk about it, I'll get around to it" father.

I have gone above and beyond for every mothetfucker in my family when they have been sick hurting depressed etc.

It's like pulling teeth to get help from them

But my time doesn't matter because I don't have a job

It has to be on thier time.

You heard the audio about me having both parents over to help just get my laundry done which isn't hard to do. I just couldn't get down the stairs once I got up them from the injury and was a fall risk. It was maybe 2 loads of laundry. It was EASY to do. If I hadn't had a fucked up back I'd never had called for help.

I'm sure my dad told you he loves me. But you don't treat people you love the way he has treated me. Same with my mom.

I don't know what I'm supposed to do.

I feel like I'm stuck in this loop where nothing changes but everyone's age.

People promise to change and never do.

I'm tired of being the one with the problems.

Why am I the one still in therapy?

Why am I basically shit on till I go?

Why don't they see their own therapists or go to anger management etc...

Why does it all fall on me?

I don't hate therapy. I just don't know what's left to learn.

I could go to school for it and have a degree but it's not what I want to do. I could probably teach honestly. I'd love to educate therapists on things that don't quite help certain cases. I do make suggestions and bitch yeah. I'm sure that's not something that you enjoy reading.

I think a mirror even a safety glass mirror in the room across from where you sit would be a great idea. Reason being is if you are seeing a patient that is reactivate to body and facial expressions then shouldn't you be aware of how you're coming across? Because I know that just in everyday life I personally don't understand when people get upset with me about those things...because I can't see how I'm acting.

Idk Joshua. I'm not trying to be an asshole and my intent is not to be rude or controlling

I need to go to bed.

[synonymroll648]

hi yes i just wanted to say it's a joy to see another Ruewen stan (Grady and Edaline are my favorite characters and I a have to scroll for an eternity to find the slightest content on them their story is so devastating I LOVE IT.)

my dude, the ruewens are such complex and interesting characters. of course i stan them. and you're right, it's sad to see that people skip out on how fascinating they are. [warning: i rambled a l o t about them so i put my screaming under the cut.]

on a surface level, grady's the overprotective dad, but once you dive deeper, you see a lot more. you see that he used to be a signature problem child. you see that his ability messed him up in the head for a while. you see that it still haunts him today, even though it's been centuries since bronte pulled him off the wrong path - take the facility fight in nightfall, for example. when he tells sophie never again after she enhances him. you can see that while he has a reputation of being a father figure that's scary towards anyone that poses a threat to his kid(s), he's scared of himself, too. possibly more so than everyone else. you can see that instead of running away from himself, he stands his ground. he stays where he's needed. he's stubborn sometimes, like with how it took a while for sophie to convince him the black swan wasn't as bad as he thought, but he's open to change when he sees good reason. if he needs to change something about himself in order to be a better person towards the people he loves, he'll do it. he's also one of the only adults in this series that sees the kids as kids first, not soldiers. and so he's one of the only adults that'll throw himself in the front lines and shove the kids back, because they're kids and he's not and he can do it. he can do anything for them, because he's a dad and that's what good dads do.

edaline's a lot more complex than people realize at first glance, too. at first, we just think of her as the sweet mom. but she's a lot more than that. she's a sister. she's a sister to an ambitious froster that decided i don't care what the rules say, i'll love whoever i want. i think a lot of people forget that edaline watched pretty much all of kesline's early relationship in real time. she heard all the whispers and rumors. she saw all the turned backs and glares. and it seems safe to say that she held her sister's hand when kesler wasn't there to, right? and while it's clear that juline's definitely a lot more bold about how she expresses her emotions sometimes - take that time she bitch slapped forkle for not bringing dex back in book 1 (AS SHE SHOULD'VE), for example. we've never seen edaline go that far, but let's be real, she totally could. she's a talented conjurer whose limits seem to be pretty extensive - with sophie's enhancing, she was able to conjure away falling boulders before they hit the ground in book 5. while she was running. also, she's better than grady at wrangling literal dinosaurs. she may be soft-spoken and appear fragile from how grief over jolie wrecked her so thoroughly for almost twenty years, but she's strong. she's strong physically and mentally, on top of giving excellent hugs and being a good mom to anyone who needs it.

now, speaking of jolie - jolie is extremely underrated. i have to give shannon credit for fleshing out a character that died pre-canon well enough that it makes some of us readers, who don't even know her as well as the author because she gets very little page time, go insane over jolie's story nonetheless. jolie ruewen's reputation now is one of a tragedy; even her name means beautiful ruin, as was succinctly discussed here. but there was more to her story than its ending. she loved parties and dresses and cosmetics. she was scared of shadows, at least when she was little. vertina was her best friend, her ultimate confidant. she was a huge gremlin fan - which, of course, is where we start to get into the sadder parts of her story. she met brant when they were kids because they wanted the same gremlin, and they ended up being best friends. who shared custody of the gremlin, if i recall correctly. they were best friends who fell in love somewhere along the way. they loved each other enough that they were willing to push through the stigmas and rumors over them being a bad match, just for each other. they loved each other enough that they were willing to maintain a strong long distance relationship while jolie was in the elite levels. and they almost made it. they were going to get married - we see evidence of it in edaline's office (The Room Where Stuff Goes to Die, if that rings a bell), with all the butterfly themed wedding decorations. but then, of course, rebellion involvements between the two of them respectively mixed disastrously. jolie tried being a double agent between the black swan and the neverseen, and when she saw that the neverseen were destroying the person she'd fallen in love with, her efforts of pulling him out of the wreckage were rewarded by him burning her alive. killing her before she got the ending she deserved.

and all of the ideas i crammed into those three ridiculously long paragraphs aren't exhaustive of who they were as people. they only talk about the canon bits of them we see; they don't even include how they affect each other. how edaline still remembers all of jolie's favorite desserts, because she's a mother and mothers don't forget. how part of why grady is so protective of sophie, his second daughter, his second chance, is because he can't lose her like he lost jolie. how jolie had grady's hair and edaline's eyes. how they waited almost twenty years to turn jolie's room into something new, because it hurt too much to change anything about it back then. and then, of course, there's how sophie fits into it all - how she felt like she could never measure up to jolie for so long, how it seems like vertina will never care about her the way she cared about jolie (not that it seems like either of them mind that); how jolie cared about project moonlark even if she never met sophie, how sophie spent months trying to bring justice to a girl she never met, to a girl that all she really knew about was that she was loved and deserved better.

canon tells us a lot about the ruewens, but the ruewens are so fascinating that it doesn't feel like enough. which is where fanon should come in, but alas, it seems like us avid ruewen stans are few and far enough in between that we're gonna have to make the content we want ourselves.

tl; dr: i, too, am a ruewen stan lmao

[moxfirefly]

Giving you two options here (obviously, you should know my mind wanders a lot — or surprise option C where you delete my ask entirely, don’t feel pressured to do this — and before we continue THIS UPDATE WAS THE BEST THING THAT HAPPENED PERIOD WE CAN NOW COPY AND PASTE ON THE APP)

Either [both A and B with the praise kink] A with Donnie:

9) Did you miss feeling me around you so much that you’ve resorted to your hand? and 1) What? Does that feel good? (Like, maybe he masturbates? She walks in, and ands up touching herself to... him touching himself? Or something like that? — loll I just realised it’s having sex while safely social distancing)

(And I don’t think it was on the list, but one way or another dyou think that you could potentially somehow add a strap on in there ... somehow — I know, I’m a kinky bítch — like, maybe mommy says “okay, princeling, fun’s over. You know the rules.” or something? — I’m giving you my own prompts now, Jesus 😂)

Or B [the much simpler, quicker, and more “wiggley” option] with either Donnie, Raph or Mikey: 23) Loser has to give the other a lap dance (he gives the lap dance)

.. I’m starting to think I went overboard, and I’m sorry, i just get excited sometimes, you know?

I’m taking a few liberties because honestly it’s about time I write Don getting pegged so I hope it still vibes with what you want.

So yes everybody, Donnie is getting pegged, I’ve finally done it. I can retire and live out my golden years in peace.

Rated Explicit (18+ only)

You liked playing a little game with Donatello.

Often times there was no pattern to how it happened or how it would escalate. The two of you would sit together, talk about everything and nothing, it would slide into more tantalizing talks and then it would be like this.

Sitting opposite one another on swivel chairs. Running off your mouth with things that would make anybody blush.

Messing with Donnie was just too much fun.

You’d watched him snake a hand into his sweats, pulling his already hard member out. He swallowed on the first pumps, hand lazily stroking. You smirked, spreading your legs for him, thankful you’d chosen a short comfortable dress. Donnie’s eyes lingered on the exposed flesh of your thighs, he slid down a bit, long legs spreading for you.

“You ever laugh at how easily little ol’ me gets you like this?” You traced lazy patterns on your thigh, he followed bewitched by your movement. Donnie’s hand stroked his cock, his fist twisting on the upturn, teasing the head. “Be a good boy and answer my question” You crossed your legs, enjoying how his frown at being denied the view.

“Yes, yes I do, love it” He groaned stopping briefly to lick his palm before wrapping it around himself again.

Opting to reward his honesty you slid your own hand into your underwear. “Did you miss feeling me around you so much that you’ve resorted to your hand?” You grinned at Donnie’s whine. He nodded, hand picking up speed as he stroked with more vigor. His eyes watched entrapped as you teased yourself, you sighed contently with the sensation spreading all over you. A trickle of pre-cum gushed from the tip, he spread it, the wet sounds of Donnie fucking his fist faster filling the room.

“You rather make a mess all over you lap, mhm?” You asked, all sultry voice and promising eyes. You stood up, opting to step out of your short dress. It was an ego boost seeing how his eyes raked all over you.

But your question had him wondering.

You walked over to him, leaning down towards his lips. “Do you want me to fuck you?” You ghosted the question across his lips, Donnie choked a moan, with reluctance he seized his movements and squeezed his cock to quell his need. A slight bashfulness spread across his eyes, you caught his gaze going towards the bed but more specifically for something that lay hidden near it.

“Oh? You want me to fuck you like that? Your smile spread before you turned towards the section where his bed was, you looked behind a few things and pulled out a box. Donnie swallowed, excitement flourishing in his stomach.

He watched as you took out a harness of sorts, a bottle of lube and a clear colored dildo.

Oh boy.

Donnie had been in the mood for it for a while now. He often didn’t have the nerve to ask for it as much he wanted it but he was thankful you could read him pretty well. Some nights just required to be taken like this.

“Come here,” You called him over and he did as told, discarding his sweats with a slight kick. You acomadated a few pillows and told him to lay across the bed propped on them. It was a more comfortable angle for this, Donnie was all legs and that was a favorite feature of his but also made things tricky for your smaller stature. He laid himself where you ordered, legs bent and spread for you.

“Now while I finish setting up, be a good boy and get yourself ready for me” You handed him the bottle of lube. Watching him spreading a generous amount over his entrance never seizing to send a spike of heat through you, the way he circled it before gently pushing a digit in. What a display you had as you stepped into the strap on, Donnie finger fucking humself slowly with his eyes fluttering closed. You grabbed the dildo, a modest size so as to not hurt him, and attached it to the metal ring on the strap.

Once everything was secured and it place, pulled tight you in between his legs. Hands on his knees you tutted tapping on his knees. “Now now, if you rather just keep at it with your finger...” Donnie shook his head, slowly retreating the digit and handing you the lube, your raised a brow. “Right, right” Heat flushed his neck as he sat up briefly and squirted a decent amount onto the dildo. Just as you loved watching him get ready, you absolutely loved when he got you ready for this.

He fisted the silicone expertly, making sure it was covered from base to tip. You caught his lips with your own before he laid back down, kissing him sensually.

“Remember the rules?” You asked, your voice much sweeter and less cocky. “Red means stop, yellow slow down and green is go” He nodded shyly, but this excitement was palpable in his eyes as he laid against the propped pillows. You got on your knees at the edge of the bed , hands slidding over his spread thighs, carefully you gripped the dildo and found his hole. Slow and steady you pushed into him, the hiss that left him making you bite your lip.

Doing this was by far one of the most thrilling and power trip induced things ever. Donnie’s responses to it never stopped turning you on. You were half way inside of him, watching his cock twitch in need. Fully sheathed in him you thrusted slowly to get a good rhythm going, each movement making him groan. Your hands rested on his waist, not like you could grip him like he could you, but you kept your hands firmly there pushing him down and keeping him in place. His thighs squeezed against your own, eyes fluttering shut as you moved within him.

“What? Does that feel good?” Your ego was already reaching new heights by now, having Donnie at your mercy, trying to meet you thrust for thrust as you sped up, one of your hands when under his thigh. “Feel so good, please-oh” Donnie’s moans hitched slightly when you changed angles, clearly hitting the spot he wanted so desperately to be hit. You leaned over him, propped up on your hands as you hips moved harder.

Each thrust seemed to be enough to have the leather material rub against your clit. You chewed on your bottom lip, settling on your forearms for easier quicker movements. Donnie raised his hips more, one foot on the ceiling above (good thing that bed of his is a literal cubby) his hands found your back and he dug his nails.

You moaned against his collar, the lip of his plastron cold against your cheek. “God- fuck!” The close proximity of your stomach was causing friction against his aching leaking cock. “Har-der!” He chocked out, his hands slid to your rear and he gripped the flesh. You had to oblige, getting Donnie riled like this, having him gasping out pleas and moaning out his desires.

Sweat covered your body as you moved against him, muscles tense and trembling. By the sounds he was making he was approaching his release, he snuck a hand between your bodies but gripped his forearm and pinned it down. “No no no” You breathed out with a low moan. “You’re cumin without touching yourself or you’re not cumin at all” Donnie whined at your threat, pinned hand in a fist as he moved against you. Those pretty brown eyes of his fluttered open, he always did look beautiful without his glasses and mask.

“Please, mommy” He mouthed at you and god you felt it buzz in your veins. Donnie’s debautched features giving you another surge of stamina.

You leaned back placing his knee on your shoulder, you wrapped your arms around the muscled limb and held onto it as you thrusted fast. Donnie moaned, loud, feeling the dildo hit his sweet spot over and over. “Fu-I’m! Y/n!” You saw his cock twitch, cum shooting in thick spurts across his plastron. The image, sounds and friction enough to make you slip off the edge yourself. You held onto his leg, mouth against his calf you moaned as your orgasm hit.

Your hips slowed, each movement making Donnie shudder. “Wow, that never stops feeling insane” He spoke, chest still heaving. You chuckled equally spent and trying to ease your rapid heart. He lifted his leg off your shoulder and you took the moment to roll the join until several pops were heard. “You know if you like it so much you can just ask me to do it more often” A tired smile on your face, Donnie nodded looking for anything to clean himself up with.

Naturally you decided to give him one last shiver of excitement. Leaning down you licked up the mess on his body, enjoying the little strangled noise he made. Slowly and carefully you pulled out of him and rolled over next to him with a pleased sigh.

“You um... you came, huh?” He asked somewhat teasing, he smiled when you nudged him with your elbow. “Look it just happens, especially with the show you put on” It was his turn to nudge you while shaking his head.

Donnie turned on his side, arm draped over your stomach and face nuzzling your breast. You caressed him, in a bit you could take off the strap on, for now you wanted to cuddle him until sleep became too strong.

[rekquiemredstar]

Victims

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader

Warnings:Fluff,mention of trauma,rape(not by Bucky), torture. (No mention of rape in this chapter but will be in future ones)

Description: You discover you may have misjudged Bucky.

This is my first Chapter of an idea I’ve been wanting to play out for a while now.  More to come very soon. 

Chapter 1: Sleep

Bucky didn’t talk much. 

Especially not to you. “He wasn’t always like this.” Steve had said to you once in passing, his keen senses picking up on just how tense your shoulders got whenever Bucky had blatantly ignored you. Good old Steve, not a bad word to say about anyone. You tried to brush it off, but you really hated being ignored. It made you feel like a pathetic, over excited puppy dog nipping at everyones heels for attention. You were loud, and blunt, and very aware of how much social space you took up when you engaged in conversation. You had no doubt it was annoying. Many times you tried to curb your hyper behavior, but that was exhausting, and eventually you had to come to the conclusion that that was just you. You were who you were, and everyone-save Bucky-adored you. That was on him, you couldn’t change how he felt.

You weren’t quite sure how to approach Barnes, having only ever known him as The Asset before you all came to the compound. The first time you met, he’d lifted you off the ground with a metal hand to your throat. He would have snapped your neck if Steve hadn’t gotten him off of you. You really hated that, too. You wanted so desperately not to need saving, ever. You were strong, but you were no Super Soldier, and the overly competitive parts of you reeled against that with everything they had. You did not need to be saved. Not by Steve or anyone. 

You weren’t the only one on the team without powers. You learned from shared experience it didn’t make you any less essential. Just hurt like a son of a bitch sometimes. Like Bucky, you had been taken by Hydra against your will. Unlike Bucky-you hadn’t been brainwashed. Just tortured. No matter how hard they pushed, no matter how many times you had been left bruised and bleeding on the icy concrete floor you never lost sight of what was right.  When Hydra’s infiltration of Shield was out in the open, and they released the Winter Soldier into the world again you felt like it was the moment you had been waiting for. Suddenly everything they had taught you about weapons and hand to hand became a brutal mistake on their part. When Nick Fury learned about the things you had done, what you knew, seen you in action, he made sure you and Steve Rogers got acquainted. After that, you never had to look for a job a day in your life. Now you were here.

It wasn’t yet light out when you headed down the stairs, dressed in a black running gear from head to toe, all the way down to your shoes that were propped against the wall in waiting. Your socks were actually the only colorful thing you had on, red white and blue donning the captain America shield, an ongoing joke between you and Steve. 

You were always up before anyone else, craving the silence and peace you felt in the early morning, beginning your usual run just as the sun crested the hilltops. Your workout regimen was insanely strict, you beat yourself up whenever you ran late, often feeling guilty about it the rest of the day. Absentmindedly, you bobbed your head to the song playing in your headphones, doing your best to keep relatively quiet as you mixed up your pre-workout in a shaker bottle. You spun to set it on the counter beside you, jumping when you noticed the outline of a figure sitting across from you. 

“Jesus,” you said more to yourself than to him, lowering your headphones to around the base of your neck. You popped the cap of your bottle and rolling your shoulders. Taking your first sip of caffeine, you held his stare. 

“You scared me, man.” 

Bucky said nothing, though his eyes widened slightly- the only indication that he had heard you at all. He sat straight and rigid behind the marble countertop, but he looked…softer somehow. His lips parted slightly, exhaling a short breath, then pressed together gently. His grey henley was wrinkled and disheveled, his hands laid flat on his thighs, as though he was awaiting his next order. 

“Are you going for a run?” He asked in such a tender tone that you blinked twice before you processed that it was even him speaking. You weren’t even aware that he knew you ran. You weren’t even aware he knew you existed half the time. 

“Uh-yeah.” You responded cautiously, swirling the contents of your bottle to incorporate the undissolved powder at the bottom. Bucky gave a small nod, greasy strands of dark hair falling into his eyes as he did so. Dark circles plagued in under-eyes, while the glass blue of his irises looked dull and worn. He looked rough, even for him. You always thought he was the best looking one here, but it’s a little hard to appreciate someones looks when all they ever do is disregard you. Now that you got a really good look at him, even with the obvious sleep deprivation, you could see just how handsome he really was. 

“You go every day?” The Soldier’s next question pulled you from your drifting thoughts and you had a question of your own; why did he care? The longest conversation you had ever had with this man was the time he asked you to pass the A1 and that was a month ago. 

“Six days a week,” you started, with caffeine running through your brain you were unable to keep yourself from over-explaining. 

“Wednesdays are my rest days, It’s the only day I get to sleep in but I usually don’t. I hate taking rest days, but it’s better for your body if you do.”

 You finished your drink and set the bottle in the sink for now, you would wash it later. You were ready to abandon this weird fucking conversation. Sliding your headphones back over your ears, you pulled out your phone and started to search for a song to run to when you glanced up and noticed the look on his face. You hadn’t been through anything close to what he had, but you knew a thing or two about trauma.  You definitely knew that look from all the times you’d seen it in your reflection.

 You paused your music and took the headphones down again, setting them on the counter this time.

“Are you okay?” You asked, pressing your hips against the ledge, leaning your palms on the counter, ready to listen. The sincerity of your voice threw him off. He was so used to being on the outside looking in, watching you make your sarcastic quips to everyone, chuckling to himself when no one was looking. He was always blown away by just how clever you were, and how quick your mind worked. He didn’t think he could keep up in a conversation with you in a million years. It wasn’t often Sargent Barnes was intimidated. You were fiery, and tough, funny as hell-and you didn’t take shit from anyone. 

Bucky had heard from Steve that you had a big heart, but he had never seen the softer side of you. 

His eyes were shiny when he looked up at you, his voice echoed with defeat. 

“I don’t know how I got here.” He said quietly.

 “I don’t want to move. I-“ His voice choked a little. 

“I don’t know where I’m supposed to be.” 

You felt your heart squeeze in your chest. God, what this poor man had endured. He had been told where to go, what to do, what to say- for years he had been controlled. Now he was free, and he was confused, scared. Hydra was no walk in the park, but you get used to the routine of torment and control. You knew better than anyone what that was like.

“How long have you been down here?” You asked. He was still, then he responded. 

“A few hours, I think.” He didn’t look at the clock, just stared straight ahead. He must have gotten up in the middle of the night from a bad dream.

You sucked in a small breath through your teeth, then exhaled, letting the tension release from between your shoulder blades. 

“Okay,” You said quietly, setting your phone down and rounding the side of the counter. Your run could wait a little while. 

“Okay. That’s okay. Do you want me to help you back to you room?” Bucky shook his head. 

“I think I broke a mirror. Glass everywhere.” You nodded, making a mental note to clean it up when you got back.

Bucky’s breath hitched slightly, increasing in rhythm. “I don’t know where I’m supposed to be.” He repeated, and you slid your hand toward him on the counter, leaning on your elbow so you were face level with him. 

“Hey,” Your voice was soft, calm, even. It encouraged him to stay the same by your example. 

“It’s alright, I’m going to help you.” 

You had your mission now, heading back to the kitchen you put the tea kettle on, then opened the freezer, taking out the frozen eye mask Tony sometimes used for hangovers. You dug into the cabinet taking out two peppermint tea bags from your hidden stash, dropping one in the nearest mug, and tucking one in your sweatshirt pocket. 

You were beside him again, moving the ice pack toward his forehead. Bucky jerked backward with a quick inhale, and you drew your arm inward. You remembered his mask. “I’m just going to put it on your forehead.” You murmured. Bucky’s bottom lip quivered. “Don’t put that on me, please.” Your fingers curled, and you nodded in understanding. 

“Okay, okay, one sec.” You jogged back into the kitchen and traded the ice pack for two large chunks of ice. 

“Let’s try this instead.” 

Bucky watched you carefully, your well muscled legs flexing as you busied yourself in the kitchen. He had been distantly aware that you were in good shape, but your normal black cargo pants must have hid a lot from view, because now that he was seeing you in the leggings you wore to run-he couldn’t stop looking. God damn, you really took care of yourself. His eyes snapped back up when you turned around again. You were careful to switch the stove off before the kettle wailed, pouring hot water into the mug and sliding it in font of him. Steam swirled from the cup and the soldier caught a whiff of mint.

You were in front of him again, conscious not to make too many sudden movements. “Turn toward me.” You instructed, and he followed orders, allowing you to stand between his legs as you soothed a cube of ice over each of his temples. His eyes fluttered slightly, the frozen temperature sent a shock of relief down his spine. He couldn’t hold back the pained groan as it erupted from his chest when you moved your fingers in slow circles, applying just the right amount of pressure. 

“Y’know,” You began. “Before I was here, before any of this,  I worked at a mental facility for at-risk teenagers.”

Bucky’s brow knit. He had always assumed that with your skills with firearms and combat that you had always been in some sort of covert ops position. He was realizing just how little he knew about you. Steve talked about you sometimes, but his jaw had always been real tight when it came to your past. “Drugs, alcohol, suicide, abuse-I hated it, it was too hard on me mentally-but I learned a lot. Most importantly, I learned that when you press something cold to your temple or forehead, it sends a shock to your neurotransmitters. Basically telling your system that you’re in pain, countering panic by releasing chemicals into the body that slow down the release of cortisol and adrenaline.” 

The dark haired man soaked in every word you said . He knew you talked a lot, but you’d never talked this much to him before, and he was eating it up. Bucky had always like the sound of your voice. He didn’t even mind the melting water running down his neck, soaking into the collar of his shirt. 

 “You can also bite down on a lemon wedge. ” You offered, taking the cubes of ice away and tossing them into the sink. You pulled your sweatshirt sleeve over the heel of your hand and dabbed the water away, he leaned into your touch this time.

 “Or smell strong peppermint.” You said, gently lifting his metal arm by the wrist and snatching the packet of tea from your pocket, dropping it in his shiny palm. 

“It’s called grounding.” You stated, motioning for him to try.

Hesitantly, the soldier brought his hand to his nose, inhaling deeply. He looked back at you with one grateful nod. It helped. You pointed curtly to the cabinet by the fridge.

 “I always keep a box of tea in there, it’s shoved way in the back because someone keeps taking it, probably Sam, but you’re welcome to as much as you’d like.” You slid the now perfect temperature tea into his free hand. 

“Drink it, It always helps calm me down.” 

Bucky took two greedy gulps, downing about half it’s contents in one go and making you giggle. It made his eyelids heavy.

“C’mon, Sergeant Barnes.” You coaxed, beckoning him to follow you into the other room. When he stood, you had to take a step back. You weren’t exactly the shortest person, but even so, had always worn tactical boots around him and they added a couple inches to your height. With you just in socks, you realized how much he towered over your five foot seven stature. It both scared and excited you. You edged a foot backward, circling it behind yourself and swaying your weight on it as if you were ready for him to take a swing at you. He eyed your stance momentarily before you broke and softened again, shaking out fists you hadn’t even realized you’d clenched. You didn’t trust him yet. 

Wordlessly, you led him to the couch. His footsteps behind you were lighter than you thought they would be, but of course he had both stealth and brute force on his side. That sent a tingle down your stomach that you chose to ignore. 

“Lay down.” You said as you dragged the coffee table closer to the couch. Bucky did as he was told, his burned out mind thankful to have some sort of direction. His eyes were half lidded and languorous, the long forgotten feeling of sleep pulling at the edges of his bruised psyche. His eyes tracked your every move. His stare somewhat lazy with fatigue, but right on target like the skilled sniper you’d seen in action so many times. 

“Try to get some sleep.” Your voice was still soft, but brimmed with anticipation for your upcoming workout. Bucky felt a sudden pang of guilt for keeping you back an extra half hour. He glanced over his shoulder at the window, seeing through the gap in the shades that the sun was already up. 

“I’ll check in with you when I get back.” You added, taking a large cashmere blanket from the nearby armchair and draping it over him. He hadn’t been tucked into bed in over 70 years. 

You scampered back to the kitchen to retrieve his mug, but when you set it down on the table and looked at his face, he was already asleep. 

“Sleep well, Sergeant.” You said quietly.

Bucky’s eyes were open the minute you turned your back, watching as you pulled your shoes on and jogged out the door. He craned his neck so he could watch you take off down the neatly paved road.

It was only when you were completely out of sight that he finally let himself fall asleep. 

[dean-you-assbutt-cas-loves-you]

I saw in your tags that there’s some old destiel fic you like on ffn. Do you have any recs ? :)

omg I haven’t been on there in years! like last time I read anything on there was like in 2014 lmao xD

32 fics total - I just checked and all of them are still up...there’s like 30+ more that I bookmarked that isn’t on the list cuz I’m not sure if they’re destiel fics or not so I gotta re-read them

all the ones below are fics that I’ve recced before in the past

1. All Angels Need Their Wings - RATING: NC-17 | LENGTH: 29,784 (2012)

Dean never thought that Castiel would ever return. And when he did, he came in a very unexpected way, a very horrifying way. SLASH Castiel/Dean. Wing-Kink. Takes place in season 7. AU.

2. Heart Trouble - RATING: NC-17 | LENGTH: 74,320 (2011)

Dean's having a harder and harder time of denying what he feels for a certain blue-eyed friend of his. And it's making him a little ornery, and a lot confused.

3. It Hurts - RATING: NC-17 | LENGTH: 29,963 (2013)

Inspired by the S9 Trailer Cas had watched the angels fall and with them, his self worth. Now human facing the challenges of navigating mortality he also tries to find a place for himself in this new world. It is a hope he has to find without the Winchesters, without Dean. So now he runs, from both Heaven, Hell and from Dean. 

4. Small Problem - RATING: NC-17 | LENGTH: 13,310 (2011)

A cursed artifact has made Castiel miniature, it's amusing for the Winchesters at first until they realize he might stay that way forever. Slash Dean/Castiel Please R&R

5 My Broken Angel - RATING: M | LENGTH: 24,999 (2010)

When Castiel disappears from his vessel, Dean is concerned. But when Castiel reappears and seems to avoid him, Dean is heartbroken. Set mid-season 5. 

6. A Hand - RATING: M | LENGTH: 23,474 (2010)

Dean/Cas, multichapter, slight AU. Dean's busy trying to re-soulify his brother, but Cas needs help. Maybe it's time Dean gave it to him. Ch. 15: Dean glared indignantly. "I find the term 'lovebirds' to be offensive. We prefer to be called 'sex-falcons.'" 

7. Saving Grace - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 38,602 (2010)

With everything that was going wrong in Dean's life, it took him a while to realize that the person close to him that really needed the most help was Castiel. 

8. Candy - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 98,068 (2013)

The Fall from Heaven changed everything. The supernatural no longer hidden. Angels roaming the planet. Sam and Dean's immediate concerns were on a smaller scale. What do you do with the former King of Hell? Where is Castiel?... Destiel/Mute!Human!Cas/Angst!Dean

9. Dude, Dean Looks Like a Lady - RATING: M | LENGTH: 20,774 *gen/pre-slash* (2013)

Sam's good, Cas has been found, and demons everywhere seem to be on hiatus. Seems like things are looking up for Team Free Will that is until Dean wakes up with his very own vagina anyway. Warnings: Fem!Dean, Destiel, female masturbation and S8 spoilers.

10. Evil Intent, Trials of Love, & Finding My Angel - RATING: NC-17 | LENGTH: 36,729, 70,453, & 59,941 *rape, graphic torture, violence* (2009)

Anna rapes Castiel and uses a method that torments him more than anything imaginable. WARNING: Rape and Castiel/Dean makes sense when you read it . If you don't like then don't read!

11. Cascade - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 44,626 (2013)

"And if you fall as Lucifer fell, you fall in flames!" An 8x23 coda. 

12. Count The Cracks, Hear The Shatters, Feel The Insanities - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 44,626 *gen/pre-slash* (2013)

They've walked miles on gravel roads that led to hell and back but the journey never quite ends. This is the story of Castiel and the Winchesters after the angels fell from heaven. Post Season 8. 

13. Damn Straight & Wait Wait Wait - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: about 21,000 (2010)

Humorous Cas/Dean, with multiple POVs. Slight AU. Fluffy. Ch. 5: Sam sat in the Impala in the motel parking lot, praying that three and a half hours at the library had been long enough.

14. Entertaining Angels - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 43,659 *gen/pre-slash* (2008)

A strange boy shows up at Dean and Sam’s motel room. Maybe he needs help, or maybe he’s there to help them—they can’t quite tell. Spoilers through 4.10. Not an OC. 

15. Happy Friggin’ Valentine’s Day - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 22,771 (2010)

SLASH. It all started with Dean's perfectly healthy hatred of frivilous holidays and a much-coveted sack of dust. Poor Castiel doesn't fully understand 'romance' to begin with, and this crash course is most unwelcome. 

16. I’m Just a Love Machine - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 29,200 (2011)

The Impala finally gets the chance to love Dean back. The problem is, Castiel seems to be in its way. 

17. It’s The Great Destiel Shipper, Sam Winchester - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 49,641 (2012)

What's Sam really doing all that time on the computer? Fangirling. Over Chuck's Supernatural books. Now Wincest might be a bit too much to deal with, but Destiel he might be able to get on board with... Especially after being around the two people involved for three days straight. 

18. Pain in the Head - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 78,771 *character death* (2011)

It started out slow. "Since when do angels have headaches?" "Since they become human." Established Dean/Cas. Sort of AU. PG-13. Complete. 

19. Sleep in Heavenly Peace - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 45,517 *christmas fic* (2013)

Dean wants to have a nice, peaceful Christmas for once, but it seems like the universe won't let him. Dean/Castiel. Post-8.08 (Hunteri Heroici) AU. First in "Holidays With the Winchesters are Always Fun." 

20. The Shattered One - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 94,021 *grace mpreg* (2012)

When it struck Castiel, it dropped him out of the sky. He set down the first place he could find. He stood in a field in Switzerland, swaying on his feet and staring down at his body, dazed by what it had just done.

21. This Cupid Isn’t Stupid - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 41,572 (2012)

Dean receives a shock when he wakes up to discover Castiel has returned. Why is the angel suddenly back? Why have his powers dimmed? And.. Why are he and Dean joined together by an invisible rope!

22. Wild Horses, Cas - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 23,505 (2013)

(S8 Spoilers (story is set in S9), Sickfic! Destiel, Minor Sabriel). When Cas comes down with a bad case of Pneumonia it leaves Dean feeling more protective over his friend than ever, but will it also lead to Dean's admittance of his feelings towards his friend? 

23. Wrong - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 51,384 (2010)

Angels are not supposed to drop out of the sky into motel rooms, broken and beaten. They're not supposed to bleed like that. It was all wrong. 

24. The Reluctant Contestant - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 50,502 (2012)

AU When Gabriel is hired as a new host for a dating show, Cas has no choice but to follow his brother along as part of the camera crew. Forced at the last minute to be a contestant, he is shocked when Dean Winchester continually refuses to eliminate him. 

25. The Ugly Duckling - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 81,676 (2012)

Castiel: a nerdy, skinny thing with a crush on the the most popular guy in class. Being unpopular isn't easy and it's worse when the homophobic school figures him out. A small struggle to be noticed by his crush is turned into a huge struggle for himself and his dignity. But bullying can get the better of anyone. Slash. Destiel rated M for later chapters. 

26. Nameless - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 77,882 (2013)

AU. Everyone has the name of their soulmate written on their wrist at birth. Well, everyone except Dean Winchester. Complete. 

27. Cufflinks - RATING: M | LENGTH: 61,845 (2012)

The world is full of creatures that prey on humans. It is up to 'Hunters' to fight against the dark. Lucky Hunters rely on the help of angels they have bound to their service. Sam and Dean may be good Hunters, but they have yet to capture an angel. One day, Sam finds an angel and seizes the opportunity to bind the angel to himself. Little did they know what they were getting into. 

28. Angel Training - RATING: M | LENGTH: 95,700, Angel Training 2: Save Us - RATING: M | LENGTH: 76,888, & Angel Training 3: Uprising - RATING: M | LENGTH: 89,512 (2011)

In a world where angels are common and the most privileged or skilled people are able to own one; the world's angelic hierarchy is about to change when Dean Winchester receives a wild and recently caught angel.

29. Chasing Your Shadow - RATING: M | LENGTH: 92,077 (2012)

The prophecy says that when Castiel turns twenty-three winters old, a stranger will come into his life and bring a lot of suffering. But do prophecies always come true? Demon Dean/human Castiel AU 

30. The Holiday - RATING: M | LENGTH: 32,088 (2011)

Castiel and Sam are unlucky in both life and love, so they swap houses for the holidays. Both find the experience highly...interesting. Dean/Castiel Sam/Gabriel

31. And In Your Arms I Shall Find Shelter- RATING: M | LENGTH: 33,824 (2012)

Dean Winchester is a long forgotten painter who suddenly receives an order for a painting from a rich man - Crowley. He is about to start painting when Castiel - his personal reaper visits him. The main question is: Will Castiel give Dean enough time to finish the painting? 

32. Jar of Hearts - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 127,192 (2013)

February being the supposed 'month of love' people seem to forget that it's also one of the coldest times of the year. Valentine's Day themed events in a cafe turned bar is how Dean managed the courage to speak to the locally famous singer and somehow score a date, a relationship, and a man he didn't deserve out of the deal. Destiel college/uniAU some Sabriel 

[notebooknebula]

The Reality of Real Estate Investing with Dave Seymour & Jay Conner, The Private Money Authority

https://www.jayconner.com/the-reality-of-real-estate-investing-with-dave-seymour-jay-conner-the-private-money-authority/

Jay Conner, The Private Money Authority has a very special guest, Dave Seymour.

They discuss the reality of real estate investing. The nit and grit of the business. The struggles and lessons that need to be learned in order to achieve success in the real estate business.

Plus, Jay and Dave also talk about the best way how to grow capital!

All these and more in Real Estate Investing with Jay Conner.

After 16 years as a firefighter and paramedic, Dave Seymour launched his career, rapidly becoming one of the Nation’s top real estate investors. Within his first few years, Dave had transacted millions of dollars of real estate and had become one of the Nation’s leading experts in both residential and commercial transactions.

His unabridged passion for business and real estate put him on the radar of the A&E Television network as well as multiple television organizations like CBS, ABC, CNBC, Fox News, and CNN. New York Times reported that Dave Seymour’s series “Flipping Boston” posted the highest ratings ever for the A &E Network at the time of airing.

Dave has been sought after as a “tell like it is” mentor and motivator in the real estate world with a track record of unmatched success everywhere he reaches. Dave is well-known for doing business alongside investors on their very first real estate deal as well as guided some of the largest investment firms in the nation through complex transactions.

Timestamps:

0:01 – Get Ready To Be Plugged Into The Money

1:06 – Jay’s New Book: “Where To Get The Money Now” –https://www.JayConner.com/Book

2:16 – Today’s guest: Dave Seymour

4:27 – The Secret Origin of Dave Seymour

8:10 – Dave talks about when he started his real estate business.

10:10 – Early struggles and best lesson learned by Dave Seymour.

14:18 – What niche in the real estate business that you focused on?

16:49 – The best way to grow capital.

21:07 – Dave talks about his reality tv show “Flipping Boston”

24:06 – What does the law of reciprocity means to Dave Seymour?

26:54 – How does the law of reciprocity apply in real estate investing?

28:22 – Books recommended by Dave

29:04 – Dave’s parting comments: “ You don’t have to know everything. Educate don’t speculate”

30:39 – Connect with Dave Seymour – https://www.FreedomVenture.com

Private Money Academy Conference:

https://jaysliveevent.com/live/?oprid=&ref=42135

Have you read Jay’s new book: Where to Get The Money Now? It is available FREE (all you pay is the shipping and handling) at https://www.JayConner.com/Book

Free Webinar: http://bit.ly/jaymoneypodcast

Jay Conner is a proven real estate investment leader. Without using his own money or credit, Jay maximizes creative methods to buy and sell properties with profits averaging $64,000 per deal.

What is Real Estate Investing? Live Private Money Academy Conference

https://youtu.be/QyeBbDOF4wo

YouTube Channel

https://www.youtube.com/c/RealEstateInvestingWithJayConner

iTunes:

https://podcasts.apple.com/ca/podcast/private-money-academy-real-estate-investing-jay-conner/id1377723034

Listen to our Podcast:

https://realestateinvestingdeals.mypodcastworld.com/11213/the-reality-of-real-estate-investing-with-dave-seymour-jay-conner-the-private-money-authority

The Reality of Real Estate Investing with Dave Seymour & Jay Conner

Jay Conner (01:44):

After 16 years as a firefighter and a paramedic, my special guest launched his career, rapidly becoming one of the nation’s top real estate investors himself. So within his first few years as a real estate investor, he had transacted millions of dollars of real estate and had become one of the nation’s leading experts in both residential and commercial transactions.

Well, his unabridged passion for business and real estate put him on the radar very, very quickly in the A&E television network, and other multiple television stations and organizations like CBS, ABC, CNBC, Fox News, and CNN. Well, the New York Times reported that my guest’s series titled, “Flipping Boston,” posted the highest ratings ever for the A&E Network at the time of airing. Well, my guest has been sought after as the tell-it-like-it-is motivator. Well folks, my guest, friend, and fellow mastermind member is Mr. Dave Seymour. So welcome to the Private Money Academy Podcast, Dave!

Dave Seymour (03:39):

My Lord, I was looking around to find the guy that you were just describing.

And then I have one of those moments, “Oh, it’s me.” Yeah. I’ve kicked some butt and taken some names in my career. God bless you, man. It’s a pleasure to be with you, dude. It really is. Thanks for having me on.

Jay Conner (03:59):

Well, I’m excited to have you on Dave. I mean, you have got quite the story. I mean, there’s not many of us guys and gals out here that have had the trip and the journey that you had. So, yes, we want to hear all about “Flipping Boston” and being on the A&E Network. But before we get to that, you got your seatbelt on? You ready to go?

Dave Seymour (04:22):

I’m ready to rock and roll, brother. I’m ready. Let’s rock and roll. You got it.

Jay Conner (04:26):

Well, tell us, how did you get started in real estate?

Dave Seymour (04:29):

Yeah. Great question. It’s always a good opener. It’s like you said, I was a firefighter and a paramedic for many years. I’m actually an immigrant to the United States of America. Don’t tell anybody. It’s a secret. I came from London, England back in 1986. I became a naturalized citizen. Absolutely loved what I was doing, but the challenge was, I wasn’t very financially literate back then, Jay, and I suffered the consequences of financial illiteracy and I got hurt pretty badly during the crash of 2008-09. I was a firefighter paramedic. I was working construction. I was working retail security. I was working about 120 hours a week and I couldn’t make ends meet. And I very quickly realized that what I was doing wasn’t working. I was following the herd as I call it, 401-Ks, et cetera, et cetera. Debt was bad.

Saved money. I mean, all of the misnomers that I was given from years of education. But anyway, I found myself in 2008 losing my primary residence, a pre-foreclosure scenario cost me a marriage, Jay, and it was a serious side to all of this stuff, relationship-wise. It wasn’t easy to be a father to my son or a husband to my wife when I was working that many hours, I was out of the house. And it’s funny, man. I look back at it today and I have a bright smile. At my lowest, lowest point, I always kind of looked north for some help and guidance and I’m screaming and shouting at my God. And I’m like, “What did I do wrong?!” I didn’t lie. I didn’t cheat. Didn’t steal.

I worked hard. I was a man among men. Worker among workers, and yet everything had turned to crap. And I’m shouting at my God and I’m like, “Help, help!” Those that seek shall find, right? And in that moment of clarity or insanity, depending on how you want to look at it, a commercial came on the radio and it was, “Teach me foreclosure.” I was in my pickup truck. “Teach me foreclosure. Free one and a half hour seminar coming to your neck of the woods. Do you want to be a real estate investor? Do you want to learn how to do transactional deals with no money down, no credit?” And I’m like, well, I got no credit. My credit score is like 2. I’ve got no money. I’m losing my house. But I believe that it worked, Jay.

That was what was important. Like I had faith that real estate was a vehicle to wealth because I’d seen it, working on the construction sites, the investors showed up. They didn’t have any dirt on their boots. They were driving nicer cars. They got shiny white teeth. They were smiling. I wasn’t. So that was how it started, man. I went to a seminar. I’m a product of real estate education and training. And I took to it like a duck to water. I had no way to go but up really, was the answer to it. And I put one foot in front of the other. Worked with my now-wife, Mary Beth, for the 3-day class, and invested $27,000 on her credit cards. She was my first private lender, go figure, right? My wife. It’s the truth. I looked at her and I said, “What do you think?” It was $27,000 for like 5 classes.

I said, “What do you think, baby?” Then she goes, “I don’t know, what do you think?” I said, “I can’t keep doing what I’ve been doing. You know, the cost just keeps going up. The emotional costs, the physical costs.” She said, “Go get ’em!” She said, “I’m proud of you. I love you. I support you in anything you want to do.” And I looked at her, I said, “I’m so glad you said that. We’ve got to use your credit cards, mine are maxed out.” That was the truth and that’s how it all began. So yeah, kind of a long story, short, short story long, however you want to put it, but that was it.

Jay Conner (08:09):

So what year did you start your education and when did you go full-time real estate investing?

Dave Seymour (08:19):

Yeah, I started my first classes in late 2007 and 2008. Like the foreclosure crisis was just beginning to ramp up. And I started learning how to do short sales and distressed assets. And 18 months later, I quit the fire department and I say, “I quit.” I didn’t really quit. I retired. And the reason I retired was it got to a point where it cost me way too much money to go to work. It is as simple as that. I had made enough noise and grabbed enough attention in those 18 months that I was in the process of doing the TV show, “Flipping Boston.” I had surrounded myself with different people. I learned about internet marketers and the different ways of lead generation and attraction and execution and contracts and money. And I was like, all in man. I was like, where am I? Where has this been my whole life? You know, I’m like, I’m alive!

And that was it. That was how it started.

Jay Conner (09:22):

I experienced the same exact thing when I got into real estate investing. It was like, “My lands, where has this been all my life?” And my very first real estate investing seminar that I went to, I had already been doing this business for 6 years. My lands, don’t start out that way, get your education first. But I was cut off and lost my lines of credit in January of 2009. And that’s what triggered me to go to my first educational seminar to learn about private money. And that’s what got me going, this world of private money. So you got in there 18 months after getting your education. You retired from the firefighting and paramedic world. What were some of your early struggles when you started out and what are the lessons you learned from them?

Dave Seymour (10:18):

Yeah, that’s a great question. The biggest struggle I ever had was with my own head. Growing up a blue-collar guy now moving into a white-collar world. It was very hard for me to believe early in my career that people would sell assets to me for a discount. It was about self-worth, like I did a ton of personal development as part of my business development. Believing that I was worthy, believing that I had something of value, which was my education, which was the way that I looked at a real estate transaction. And as you do it, here’s the key. I think Jay, and I don’t know if you agree with this, I anticipate that you do, but as long as I was always in motion, in forward motion, as long as I was putting, honestly, my very best effort with one foot in front of the other.

If I was removing the negativity around me, the people who said, “You can’t.” I loved it when somebody said I can’t because I’d immediately turn it to, “I can.” And I just execute. And I just somehow succeeded. So it was about working on my mind first. A guy said to me, “Dave, there’s 6 inches of detrimental thinking that lives between your ears.” He said, “Only you can control that. Only you can. Are you wealth? Are you confidence? Are you joy? Are you value?” He said, “Because if you believe you are, then that will resonate to the people around you.” And I started looking at opportunities where I could bring massive value. And it wasn’t money-driven, Jay. It wasn’t money. Money was the by-product of service first. Helping a distressed homeowner. Looking after your contractors and treating them like equals, not like they were lesser citizens or whatever. Leaving my pride and my ego and pocket it to one side. Stepping into every relationship with everybody being at a hundred. And losing points rather be at zero.

I’d always have to gain points. You know what I mean? I bought an attitude of gratitude to everything that I did. And I just kept going, man. There’s a book out there. It says, “Six inches short of gold, or six feet short of gold.” And the idea is, is it just that one more phone call? Is it just that one more author? Is it just that one more relationship? Are you gonna quit before it’s time to succeed? And what happens is, 90% of our competition, if not higher, quit. And that’s why guys like us succeed because we stay the course. We have the tenacity, we have the drive, we have the faith, the belief. And again, surrounding myself with like-minded people who wanted to do what I was doing and that overcame any hurdle. There aren’t any hurdles. They’re just little blips along the radar. It’s as simple as that.

Jay Conner (13:13):

Well, what you just said, Dave, is one of the reasons that you and I resonate so well with each other and that is, it’s never about the money for the long-term. Making a lot of money can be a motivation for somebody in their short term. But you know, it’s been my experience over all the years of being in business. Whenever I got involved in an activity or an opportunity, and the only interest that I had in that opportunity was to make money, I never succeeded. I never succeeded. And it all comes down to what you just said, having a servant’s heart. I know you gotta love Zig Ziglar like I love Zig Ziglar, right?

Dave Seymour (13:54):

Right on my wall, right there. “You can have everything in life you want, if you will just help enough other people get what they want.” Zig Ziglar, it’s right there on my wall, brother.

Jay Conner (14:07):

That’s it, that’s it.

Dave Seymour (14:13):

Look at that, I’m getting goosebumps on my arms.

Jay Conner (14:13):

Mine are standing up on my neck. So, as far as your real estate investing journey, what have you focused on? Fix and flips? Wholesaling? What niches of real estate have you really been involved in and like, just knocked it out of the park?

Dave Seymour (14:34):

“Yes” is the answer to all of them. Yeah. Look, here’s the thing. As you become more intelligent in your industry, you see more opportunities. So, the TV show, “Flipping Boston,” pigeon-holed me as the grumpy construction guy who just got it done, which is all BS, it’s reality TV, right? But the reality of it was, I really did buy houses with my partner, we really did renovate them, fix them, sell them, and make a profit. Wholesaling is easier money. It’s just great negotiation skills, understanding the mechanics. I think the biggest disservice in the education space is that people say, if you just learn how to be a wholesaler, then you’ll make quick money. Well, that’s garbage. You gotta know how to be a rehabber so that you can be a great wholesaler, right?

If you don’t understand the mechanics, the numbers, the time, the ARVs, et cetera, et cetera. So I’ve always been in that field. Always, always will be in that field. Although it’s not my focus so much today. Along the way, buy and hold, get some cash flow coming in, get some appreciation, let the tenant go to work and pay down your debt service for you, thank you very much. Treat them like the gold that they are. Don’t be a slum landlord, give them clean, decent, affordable housing, give them a response immediately when they need you, if you can, to make sure that you build that relationship with them. They’re the most valuable asset that you have as a real estate investor, is your tenant base. And then today, we level up. It’s always a case of levelling up. I can’t sit still. It’s my A.D.D. DNA. And today we’re in the commercial real estate space. I run a $100 million private equity fund that invests in multi-family assets in the Sunbelt. And we just started our build-for-rent strategies where we’ve got 6-acreage plots in Florida, another 8-acreage plots in South Carolina and Atlanta. And now we’re going to be building houses for the folks who want to rent and not own. So there’s a trajectory, Jay, which part of that do you want to address for us?

Jay Conner (16:44):

Well, you’ve done it all and it’s just part of ascending up the ladder. Now you just mentioned that you’ve got a pretty large fund for the commercial projects. So like myself, you know a whole lot about growing capital, attracting capital. I mean, both you and I could talk a long time about that, but let’s just stop here for a moment. Tell us from your experience, what’s the best way to grow capital?

Dave Seymour (17:14):

So look, there is an absolute learning curve, right? So when I was doing single-family buy fix and flip, attracting an investor, first of all, who understood the business, was critically important. So you could do that through show and tell. This is what we paid for it. This is what we did to it. This is how much we made. And this is what our private lender made on it. Protected, secured, and insured. 8% interest. Interest only, blah, blah, blah. You know the pitch, right? And that becomes word of mouth. So, my portfolio attracted that retail investor. I’m not going to lie, Jay. I’m going to be truly transparent. It can be hard work. It could be heavy lifting sometimes with the retail investor. We use the term, “If it feels like I’m pushing a donkey up a hill, then I got to stop doing it.”

Right? So how do I get attraction? How do I get motion? Repetitive actions? It’s by being successful. The very first private loan I took was $35,000 from a lieutenant at the fire department. And I said, “So, Mike, could you give me $35,000? I’m going to put you in a third lien position on this property. But I’m going to give you your $35,000 back in 3 weeks plus an additional $5,000.” I knew I could do it because the property was on the contract. We just needed this money to squeeze roots at the finish line. So I give him his money back in 2 weeks and he’s ecstatic. And he said to me that day, “Dude, that was a great deal!” I said, “Thanks, Lt. I appreciate it.” He said, “If you ever,” magic words, “if you ever need money again, you come to me first.”

“And if I don’t have it, I know somebody who does.” And what he was referring to was his father because his father was a retired chief. So, the first one is always the toughest one. But once you’ve got traction underneath that, it becomes a system. It becomes repetitive and it creates its own motion. Today, I’m in a different sandbox altogether. Today, I attract capital through the portfolio. I attract capital through family offices, institutional capital. How would you like this for a problem, Jay? You ready? I have 18 months to put together a half a billion dollar portfolio because I’ve got an arbitrage trust company that’s ready to take it out at a full cap on the buy-side and an 8.5, 9% cash on cash return. So, there’s a guy waving a half a billion dollar check in my face and he’s like, “Go find me the real estate. Let’s go!” So, it’s interesting because the first guy that I learned commercial from was a very, very cool gentleman. His name’s Dave Lindahl. He’s in Massachusetts.

Jay Conner (20:12):

Yeah, Dave’s a good friend of mine.

Dave Seymour (20:14):

Okay. So DL said to me, “Dave, it’s just zeroes. More zeroes on the way in, more zeros on the way out. Just run the deal the same way.” And I never forgot that. So yeah, that’s how we raise money today, man.

Jay Conner (20:30):

That’s awesome. Before I get to my next question, let me ask you this first. So everybody’s dying to hear the short story summary of your television stardom of the A&E show “Flipping Boston.” So take a moment and tell us about that. Well, before you tell us about reality TV, I tell people whenever the ask me, “Jay, tell me about all these flipping shows.” And I’ll say, “The only thing real about reality TV is none of it’s real, except Dave Seymour’s Flipping Boston because he actually did have to do all that.” But anyway, take a moment and tell me and the audience about that reality TV experience.

Dave Seymour (21:12):

Look, it’s a blessing and a curse, depending on how you want to look at it. The blessing was the national exposure. I don’t know about anybody else. I didn’t get rich off of a TV show. I think it was $15,000 an episode at the end of our career there. Here’s what the benefits are. The exposure. It put me on the Today Show multiple times. It put me on the Rachel Ray show multiple times. It allowed me to be recognized as a national expert and a pundit on CNBC and CBS and other networks. So that was the caveat to it. The nitty gritty of a real estate transaction being filmed for a TV show. If it’s a half an hour TV show like these fix and flippers, these shows on HGTV, you know what I mean?

If it’s a half hour show, look, man. Paint and carpet, paint and carpet. You’re not making 40, 50, 60, 70, 80, 90, a hundred thousand dollars on paint and carpet, okay? So stop it. Be serious. They’re creating a TV show. You know, with us up here in New England, my inventory’s some old, old ladies, man. I mean, 1890, you know, 1880. The oldest lady I ever loved was 1892, I think she was born. And she was an old school in Newburyport that we turned into a couple of high-end condominiums. But we really did rip the houses apart and put them back together again. And the thing is, I will always give kudos to my ex-partner, Pete, on this, was he ran the numbers as if there was nothing special about the exposure or anything else. Like the numbers were real. The real numbers in, the real numbers out. The profit, whether it was a skinny margin or a better margin, he stayed true to the numbers.

Look, can you flip a house in 3 weeks and make 40, 50 grand? Maybe. You can flip a contract and make 40 grand. And you can do that in 24 hours if you know what I know, right? So, reality TV had to create a story, had to create a show. And I allowed a goofball like me to have some fun. I’d break the fourth wall all the time. The fourth wall is the camera. I got to break it all the time, just not talking to the camera. You know what I mean? They’re like, “You can’t do that.” And I’d say, “Keep it in there. It’s good.” So yeah, if you’re watching those shows, watch them for the show value, do not watch them for educational value because if you’re watching for educational value, you’re going to get your butt handed to you. We’ll watch them for show value and I’ll enjoy the pretty ladies. Enjoy the drama. Oh my God, the pipes burst! Let’s go to commercials. Right? You can play all of that as silly games if you’re hunting. It’s a show, come on now.

Jay Conner (23:58):

I love it. Thanks for telling it like it is, Dave. After all, you are known as the “tell it like it is guy.” So both you and I, Dave, are big believers in the law of reciprocity. So 2 questions. Tell everybody, what’s your definition of the law of reciprocity? And how does it apply to real estate investing?

Dave Seymour (24:20):

Yeah, that’s such a good question. Look, man reciprocity, they actually did, like the intelligence psychoanalyst kind of guys and girls looked at reciprocity, and it’s part of our DNA. And our DNA says as homo sapiens, that if I do something for you that is perceived to be valuable, you in return will do something back for me. But don’t bring value to someone with an expectation of value. Just give because giving is good, right? Start there. Our rewards are coming from high up above. They’re not always coming in the paycheck. You know what I mean? So reciprocity is just going out and being of service, I believe. I know a guy, who I see as the ultimate in reciprocity. I know a guy who’s financially stable. This guy has a couple of boys. They’re now 11 and 9 years old.

And what this man does is he takes his children to Walmart the last 2 weeks before Christmas every year. And he will put down $5,000 at the layaway counter and tell the lady behind the counter, “Pay down $5,000 worth of layaways, whatever comes up on your screen until those layaways are all paid off.” And he just shows his sons that. That’s reciprocity, this man. And I’ve had many, many, many conversations with him. And he says, “Reciprocity has put me in a position to be financially free.” And the Law of Reciprocity says if I want to keep something, I have to give it away. Say that again. If you have something of value, if you’re going to keep it, then you have to give it away. Pass it on, is what we use for terminology. So that’s my definition of reciprocity. And here’s the other thing, man, when it comes to charity and giving them philanthropy, don’t do it to get recognized, do something good for somebody else and then keep your mouth shut. Because that I believe is the definition of humility, which works side by side with reciprocity. So that’s just my own philosophy on it. And it’s served me pretty well.

Jay Conner (26:37):

It reminds me of what Jesus told the Pharisees when they’re out there praying in the public square, their arms lifted up and leg Jesus said, “Go pray in your closet and shut the door,” right? I love it. How does the law of reciprocity apply in real estate investing?

Dave Seymour (27:00):

Look, through coaching. Through passing it on. Through being humble. Okay? There’s a lot of ego in our industry, Jay. Let’s just be honest about it, right? “Look at me, I’m the best. I’ve got a private jet. I’ve got a big house,” you know, all of that stuff. I don’t believe that encompasses reciprocity. Reciprocity is an opportunity to give somebody a hand up, not give somebody a handout, right? When you’re in a position to share knowledge, knowledge is only powerful if implemented, right? So that’s what I like about real estate reciprocity. And then we get to pass that along to our clients. To a homeowner in distress with whatever that situation is and the reciprocity in there works along the way of, “You know what, that person knows somebody else.” And my reputation will always walk before me. Unfortunately, bad news travels faster than good news. We all know that. And if you make loud, good news with clients and let them speak your words afterwards, then reciprocity and momentum follows afterwards. So that’s how I look at it, brother, right or wrong. It’s certainly good.

Jay Conner (28:21):

I love it. Dave, what book have you gifted to other people more than any other book?

Dave Seymour (28:28):

It’s “The Secret” by Rhonda Byrne. Law of attraction. And then my good friend, Jack Canfield’s “Secrets of Success.”

Jay Conner (28:38):

Oh yes. My wife, Carol Joy, and I went to see him. I’m looking at the certificate up here. We went to Jack Canfield’s first event of his, that was The Breakthrough to Success. And I got so excited. I went back and paid the big bucks and got certified to teach Jack Canfield stuff because I just love it. Dave, I have just loved having you here on the podcast as we wind down. Do you have any parting comments or final advice that you would like to share with the audience and then be sure to tell the folks how they can get hold of you.

Dave Seymour (29:13):

Yeah, for sure. It’s always interesting how you wrap up a conversation. For me, I think about the people who listened to us, Jay. What do they want? What are their needs? How can we serve them best? And I know it sounds kind of kitschy, but I always say, “To thine own self, be true.” Is what you’ve been doing working? Be honest with yourself. And if it hasn’t, it’s okay to do something different. You don’t have to know everything before you do anything. Take the first step. Educate, don’t speculate. And find the people that are doing what you want to do at the highest level possible. Do your due diligence and then step into action. A lot of fantastic people sitting on couches, wishing and wanting and dreaming. But then there’s a smaller population of guys like us who are out there actually doing it, right?

Not just teaching it, but we’re actually out there doing it as well. So step into your own greatness. And if you want to connect with us, if you want to learn anything about what we do at Freedom Venture Investments, I know Jay’s got a website that he can send you to there. I’m old school, brother. You could pick up the phone and call us at (781) 922-4418. One of my team members will pick up the phone and connect to me if that’s possible. I try to be as available as I can. So I just want to keep it moving forward, brother. I’m the opposite of stale.

[trillian-anders]

the assistant

pairing: ransom drysdale x reader

warnings: violence, angst, fluff, smut && SPOILERS

word count: 6.8k

description: part 1 of 5. CONTAINS MAJOR SPOILERS, PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVE NOT WATCHED THE FILM. you’ve been working for the thrombeys for four years now, the last three years of your service being a glorified babysitter to the most annoying, self-absorbed, dickhead hugh ransom drysdale.

You wanted to smack that dumb smirk off his stupid dumb face. 

Hugh Ransom Drysdale. The bane of your fucking existence. Standing there with that stupid fucking smirk on his face, he fucking loved this. Watching as you cleaned up his mess. A crying girl on his doorstep and you, his assistant (aka babysitter), trying to calm her down enough to get her to leave his house. This dumb contemporary floor to ceiling windowed, minimalist, empty souled house. The girl had been picked up at a bar last night. Charmed by his handsome face, the money he was careless to spend, the way he spoke to you like you were the most beautiful thing in the world. 

It was a fucking joke. A trick. You’ve seen it a million times and you’d be willing you bet that you’d see it a million more. 

The door blocked her view of him, your clear view of him from the side, sipping on a mug of coffee in his hands and fucking smirking. 

“He won't even see me?” You hated when they cried. Like each of them had this idea that they’d go home with Ransom Drysdale and fuck him so good that he’d tie them to his bed and never let them leave or something. 

You sighed heavily before replying, “Mr. Drysdale has business to attend to, he’s unavailable at the moment, but I can leave him a message if you’d like?” You did this maybe five or six times a week. In the early morning hours, after his sexual escapade and some rest, Ransom would wake early and leave for the gym. In that time you were supposed to ‘take out the trash’ as he described it. This morning, the girl left dazed and confused in the fog taking an uber back to her home, but returning an hour later trying to plead her case. It was giving you a migraine. 

The girl stepped back from the porch, shoes crunching against the gravel as she searched the windows for his face. “FUCK YOU RANSOM.” She shouted, flipping the bird into the air. The man hiding to your right, choked on his coffee in laughter as you watched the girl get back into her car and disappear from sight. 

“What's on the agenda today Ransom,” You shut the door quietly, turning to face him, “Because if I have to do that again tomorrow I’ll quit.” He scoffed in indignation. 

“You’re not gonna quit,” He drained the rest of his mug, “You can’t even leave the house long as you got that.” He gestured towards your leg. Sitting firmly on your right ankle was a house arrest bracelet. One meant for him, but carefully bribed into being put on your own leg. The stupid son of a bitch got away with murder, after the death of his late Grandfather’s housekeeper by his own hand and the attempted murder of the girl that got the entire Thrombey fortune, he stayed the lucky son of a bitch he had been his entire life. 

Evidence was mishandled, not enough proof. That whole, ‘beyond reasonable doubt’ thing. The rich asshole got fucking house arrest and court mandated therapy. Even after there were three fucking witnesses to him attempting to murder Marta Cabrera. 

Money oiled the gears of the justice system, letting the trust fund baby slip through without consequence. That’s where you come in. 

You worked for the Thrombey’s before. As a tutor to Meg when she began to fail her english class. For whatever reason, Lynda and Richard Drysdale liked you, assigned you a new task. Their sweet baby boy Hugh, called Ransom by everyone but the Help. You’ve worked for Ransom for three years now. The first year before the death of his Grandfather and Thrombey patriarch, and now two years after his death and wouldn’t you know it. Hugh Ransom Drysdale wrote a fucking bestseller. 

Everyone wanted an insight into this family. Harlan Thrombey always said there was so much of him in Ransom. He wasn’t lying. 

Ransom wrote the first of what you knew would be many new Thrombey family murder mystery novels. And he was reaping in the cash. He was two months away from his next big release. Something you’re sure would fly off the shelves just as quickly as the first. 

“Don’t worry,” He said, “I’ve got a deadline to meet.” His coffee mug abandoned by the front door for you to clean up, he left you to officially start your day. He retreated into the study he created for himself to crank out the last four chapters he needed for his book, maybe. 

Due to circumstances beyond your control, you were the one placed on house arrest. As long as no one was notified that Ransom left the perimeter of the house you were being paid well, and you being paid well meant your younger sister gets taken care of. You were able to send her money every month to help with the fact that she was staying with an estranged aunt. It hadn’t been easy once your mother died, but the Thrombey’s lighten the load so to say. 

That’s why you were washing Ransom’s sheets that reeked of sex, picking up and disposing of torn panties and tossing used condoms the fucking dick couldn’t be bothered enough to toss two more feet into the trash can in his on-suite. You’d invested in rubber gloves. 

On days that Ransom had to meet with his probation officer he would wear a dummy bracelet. It got him by and soon the fucker would be over and done with house arrest all together. You’d be able to move back home then. Hopefully. 

“Ransom, you ever gonna eat today?” You knocked on the open door of his study, bringing his attention from his computer to you, who held a bowl of pasta in your one hand. He sighed, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his eyes. There were multicolored post-its surrounding his computer. Your mind made the connection with how similar it was to his Grandfather’s own workspace. You gently placed the bowl on his desk, turning to pour him a tumbler of whiskey from the small bar in the corner of the room. 

“I don’t know how the old bastard ever cranked out two books a year,” His neck cracked. “How is that even possible?” He took a large bite of the pasta, squinting at the screen. His eyes quickly shifted to yours, watching you set down the glass of whiskey in front of him. He grabbed your wrist. “Stay.” It was an order. “Sit.” You took your place in a chair across from him. 

“Harlan wrote every day,” You told him, “You write whenever you’re not off sticking your dick into anything that breathes.” He laughed at that. 

“Not everything that breathes,” He typed a few more words into the word document, “I haven’t fucked you yet.” Your core pulsed, he said yet. 

Audibly you scoffed, “I would never willingly fuck you Ransom.” You pulled your legs up onto the chair to make yourself comfortable. He smirked at that, eyes not leaving the computer screen. 

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” That stupid smirk. You hated that fucking smirk. So condescending. 

When you first met Ransom you were probably very much like the girls that you now pry out of his bed at 8 am. You had been tutoring Meg at the family home, sitting at the kitchen table going over Othello when he sauntered in, digging through the cabinets for snacks. You could feel Meg tense up next to you and that’s when he turned. He was so fucking pretty. Blue eyes, well kept hair, cashmere sweater, those broad fucking shoulders, and on his face, stretching that full bottom lip you wanted to tug between your teeth, was a smirk. 

That pulsing throb between your thighs soon was quickly forgotten as he opened his mouth and began to speak, “How’s it going Meg, trouble reading? Or do they not teach you how to read when you’re a liberal? Lord knows you guys never fucking understand anything anyway.” Meg snapped back at him, but you were stunned. You could tell he said that on purpose, knowing it would make her go off on the tangent he was now, finding a sick pleasure in it. That was the first time you’d seen the smirk. You’d lost count of how many times you’ve seen it since then. 

“I really hate you Ransom.” You sighed, sinking further into your chair. He had almost finished off the bowl of pasta by now, whiskey long since emptied. He thinks it’s funny, you hating him because he responds looking you in your eyes, maintaining his smirk, 

“I know you do baby.” He liked to do that. Call you pet names. Once he had even pretended you were his wife when you accidentally walked in on him and a girl he had been balls deep in, bent over the back of the couch. He fucking LOVED that one. The girl had cried, embarrassed, apologizing as she picked her bra up from the floor and slunk out the front door behind you. That was a while ago. Pre-Murder. You should have seen it then. How insane he actually was. 

Ransom was incredibly smart and was a quick thinker. It was part of the reason that he had gotten away with murder in the first place. You knew that. It showed in his novel. He would have you read chapters, give him your opinion, before writing and rewriting. Showing you again. He’d ask you if you could figure out who was the murderer, a sinister glint in his eyes, arms crossed, standing above you waiting. He could only be satisfied if you didn’t have a clue. 

It was a gift, you supposed, the ease in which he wrote to make every character a possible suspect in completely new and incredible scenarios. He had three books in various states of completion that he was chipping away at, the one he was currently working on seemingly better than the previous published. 

His Mother, the one who gave him the silver spoon and cursed him for having it his whole life, was suddenly proud of him. His Father, now divorced from his Mother, would come by weekly asking for money. Ransom loved that too. His Dad got nothing due to the prenup, leaving him penniless. The cushy job he had at Lynda’s real estate empire was gone, and now Dad was working at local agency scraping by on low commission. Last week his Father came to the door while Ransom was writing and muscled his way not too kindly past you into the house. 

“Ransom!” He called, finding his way into his son’s study. You quietly shut the door, returning to folding laundry. The door shut tightly behind him and sounds had been muffled. It’s only when their voices went from calm to a screaming match did the door wretch open and Ransom followed his Dad out, both red faced. 

“We’ve given you everything in your fucking life and you can’t even give one iota back.” Ransom opened the front door, gesturing to the porch. 

“Get the fuck out, and don’t come back.” His voice stern and commanding.

“Fuck you Ransom.” With that he was gone. The silence that had settled over the house was thick, Ransom’s hand still resting against the closed door before he took a breath and, without taking a glance in your direction, returned to his study. Closing the door. 

The echo of that argument sat in the house for the rest of the day, Ransom leaving soon after to find a body to lose himself in. If the murder trial did anything, it made Ransom into a bad boy and girls fucking loved it. He wasn’t, technically, guilty after all. 

You attempted to clear the bowl in front of him, but was stopped by his hand. His eyes never left the screen as he brought your hand to his lips, placing a kiss in your palm, before dragging your arm to his other shoulder, hugging himself with it awkwardly until you gave in and wrapped your other arm around him, holding him tightly for a moment. 

He was soft sometimes. His Mom never held him when he was a kid. He was left alone a lot while she was building her empire. Babysitters never stayed long, nannies came and went. Sometimes you truly felt bad for him, other times you remember that he was a dick and that he loved to play tricks and torment anyone and everyone that was supposed to take care of him, including you. The only difference was you weren’t able to leave. 

He let you go soon after that, letting you clean up the mess from dinner and stoke the fire place warming the house that always seemed too cold. As you stood by the fire, arms wrapped around yourself you could feel him behind you, coming to wrap his arms around your waist, leaning his head on your shoulder as you stared into the flames. There was a moment or two of silence as you both stood there. 

If this were any other situation, if Ransom loved you, if this was someone who loved you, if this someone cared enough to care about the things you care about, this would be kind of romantic. But it’s Ransom, and he didn’t care about anyone but himself, he definitely didn’t care about you, and he one hundred percent didn’t care about anything you care about. “I’m going out.” 

His arms left your waist and his chest left your back leaving you cold. “For fucks sake Ransom, I don’t feel like throwing out a girl tomorrow morning.” You turned to watch him throwing his coat on. He smirked. He fucking smirked. 

“I’ll give you a break and throw her out myself then.” And he was gone. 

Hours later you’re woken by the sound of Ransom coming home, sure enough he wasn’t alone. Soft giggles and a bang, he’s shoved her against the wall beside your room. There were muffled groans as you assumed she found her knees right there in the hallway. He got off on this shit, you knew. Often stopping somewhere outside your door to start his sexual escapades. Knowing you were mere feet away, like some half-assed exhibitionism. It wasn’t long after that the girl squealed and there was more muffled talking before they moved to his bedroom. To which you shared a wall. 

Your bedroom, before you were a live-in, housed a bunch of items you believed graced a teen boy’s bedroom walls at one point. And still, shoved in the corner, were playboy model cardboard cutouts, “They’re vintage, mint condition, and worth a lot.” Sure, Ransom, sure they are. Arcade games, framed patriots jerseys, a lacrosse set from his high school days. You were shoved in the middle of it all, a single bed shoved against the wall surrounded by what once was a room full of teenage boy memorabilia. A shrine to his youth. 

The headboard soon came knocking and hope for sleep was lost. The girl’s moans escalating to shrieks. Either he was as good as he says, or these girls really care about his ego. Either could be true when there’s more than one comma in your bank account. 

The kitchen was much quieter. A steady rocking still came from upstairs, but thankfully it was muffled by the floor. As you made a cup of tea you figured you would see if he had printed off a new chapter ready for you to read. You hope he wouldn’t have gone out without finishing it anyway. 

You were not sure why you cared to be honest. You had this love/hate for Ransom. He was an annoying prick who did something really fucking horrible, but he also made it very clear to everyone involved that you had nothing to do with it. There was a scary moment there, after his arrest, when you were brought to the station for interrogation. You hadn’t known he had even gotten up to any of these crimes. He kept you completely in the dark and he was sure to let his arresting officers know that. You hadn’t even seen him since the night Harlan died when he left the party stranding you at the estate. 

Money does crazy things to people. The threat of his steady income leaving was enough to push him to do something crazy. He was lucky enough that the recorded confession magically was erased. He was lucky for dirty cops. He was lucky that even though his mother despised his lifestyle she didn’t want him to go to prison. He was so lucky. Now with his first novel sitting highly on the bestseller list, he seemed even more lucky than he did before. 

His study was on the opposite side of the house from his bedroom, muffling the sounds enough for you to flip through the packet left on top of his keyboard. Three chapters away from completion you were following the detective through paces where things felt more confusing than ever, the clues were unclear and there was not much to go on, but the tension between the eldest son of the victim and his ex-wife were mounting and it was hard to believe that maybe this guy had nothing to do with it despite what was described as an ‘air-tight’ alibi. You read through the chapter twice, scribbling your thoughts in red pen along the margins. 

“What do you think?” You jumped in your chair, looking up to see Ransom in the doorway. 

“You scared the shit out of me,” Your hand still clutching your chest. He had a glass of water in his hand, chest bare, solid navy pajama pants slung low on his hips. His chest hair always got you, just a little bit. He tugged his bottom lip between his teeth and pushed off the door jam to walk into the room, taking a seat in the chair you occupied hours ago. “It’s good,” you cleared your throat, “I’m not sure how much longer I can wait for you to finish to be honest.” He chuckled softly. 

“Let me see.” You handed him the packet and his eyes scanned the margins, reading your comments. They were mostly reactions, that’s what he liked. He wanted to know how you reacted to everything he put in front of you, did you like the romance, the tension, the lust he was trying to write between the ex-husband and wife? Or was it too distracting from the plot? Is the detective too unbelievable? He’s a character for sure. Can you figure out whodunnit yet?

“What are you doing out of bed?” You asked, spinning the chair side to side, waiting for him to put the packet down. 

“I told you I was going to kick her out.” He took another sip from his water. You scoffed, 

“And you couldn’t start doing this sooner?” A smile stretched his lips,

“I like how much it bothers you.” 

“It’s annoying,” you said, “Worst way to start my day.” He laughed. 

“That’s the only reason?” He asked, throwing the packet back on the desk, leaning back in his chair. Smirking. 

“You’re such an asshole, you know that?” You pushed back from the desk, moving to exit the room. He quickly grabbed your wrist, tugging you over to his side where he looked up at you, 

“If you wanna take their place, just let me know.” Your other hand came up to smack him on his shoulder, causing him to laugh as he released you, letting you take your exit. 

“Dick.” 

You found him the next morning at his desk, looking as though he had very little sleep. “Babe could you get me some coffee?” You yawned in the doorway, 

“Sure.” It didn’t take long before you were setting the cup in front of him. “Your therapist is coming by at one.” He nodded, not looking up from his computer. “I’ll come get you when it’s time for you to get ready.” 

He was focused. You weren’t sure where this focus came from. It was every once in a while that he would find this stroke of inspiration and write for a whole day straight. Hopefully he will be finished his book before schedule and be able to get ahead for the next one. 

Soon he was washed, dressed, and ready for the one person he dreads the most. He hated therapy sessions. There were only ten more he needed to do before the court mandate was over. Ten more weeks until you were able to get this lovely ankle bracelet off when you would hopefully be able to go back to the routine you had with him before. Where you’d sleep in your own shitty apartment and show up to work a 9 to 9 five days a week. 

After sessions he was always moody, quiet, and tended to need his favorite single malt restocked the next day. Not exactly in line with how he should be tending to whatever revelation the therapist has been streamlining him to, but that wasn’t any of your business. You could say though that during the last 42 weeks of sessions this refractory period was shortening to less and less time, maybe tonight you won't be peeling him off the floor of the study and dragging him up to his room drunk off his ass. 

While in the session you were trying not to listen in on, you were sunk heavily on the living room couch, drinking coffee and reading the latest chapter he had slapped into your hands before entering back into his study. The book was so close to being finished, the last two chapters leading you to the big reveal and aftermath. The climax was steady taking hold and you were more sure than ever that the eldest son had something to do with it. You didn’t know what he did, but it was something. 

He looked mad enough to kill as the Doctor left. Slamming the door, barely missing the Doctor’s jacket sleeve as he made his hasty retreat. Ransom stood seething for a moment by the front door, a chill running down your spine. He had murdered someone before, something you try to forget seeing as you are forced to spend so much time with him. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides. It felt like an hour before he moved. 

“I’m going out.” The words spoken sternly as he stomped his way up the stairs like a petulant child, returning moments later, cleaned up, eyes blank, before grabbing his coat and slamming the door loud enough to make you jump. 

Aside from Ransom’s Mother never being around and aside from his Father’s string of extramarital affairs and aside from his Grandfather’s need to push him in every direction but close, you wish you could say that Ransom had a good childhood. But he didn’t. When he was little the kids picked on him for being rich, and when he was bigger they only became friends with him because he was rich. He was such a bully. At least, that’s what his Mother told you once drunk off chardonnay at his birthday dinner last year. 

Disappointment. 

That was a clear sentiment for the small family get together, and by small family get together you meant the dinner you cooked and Ransom looking like he’d rather be in prison than listen to his parents bicker over his Father’s new (Not so new seeing as he’d been caught kissing her by a PI before Harlan’s death) girlfriend. She was smart enough not to come. 

This night was looking a lot like that one. Ransom, after his parents left and you began to tidy up, began to scream at you. 

“What gave you the fucking right you dumb bitch?” He was spitting, face red as you cleared the dishes. “You’re only here for the money. The fucking money. How much is she paying you huh?” The bottle of expensive whiskey he had been drinking throughout the night was in his hand, swinging it around and taking pulls straight from the bottle. “Not enough obviously because you would have let me fuck you a long time ago.” 

Your face flushed red as your own anger began to rise. He continued, “Never, ever, fucking again will you allow my parents in this house, do you understand me?” His unoccupied hand grabbed your arm tight enough to bruise, turning you to face him. His eyes wild and unfocused. “I said do you understand me?” You not so gently wretched your arm from his. 

“Don’t touch me.” He always fucking did this. Blamed you for things you had no control over. Lynda approached you about a dinner for Ransom’s birthday. It was her name in your paystubs. You can’t say no. 

“How dare you-” He began, but was cut short.

“No Ransom. No.” Like scolding a fucking dog who put his paws on the table. You threw the bowl you currently had in your hands into the sink, turning to fully face him. “I am only here for the money and I am only here because your Mother pays me a lot to be here.” His jaw clenched. “But I’m also here because I’m the only fucking person who even remotely cares about your ungrateful prissy spoiled ass and if it wasn’t for me you’d be sitting in this fucking glass house, alone, with only your own self-righteous attitude to keep you company. So don’t you ever touch me like that again. Do you understand?” 

He loudly clunked the bottle onto the kitchen island, stumbling in your direction as you backed yourself into the sink. His trial had just concluded two weeks ago, Fran’s murder fresh on your mind and you wondered if you just made a terrible mistake. Over the course of this rant, the alcohol was sinking into his bloodstream, it turned his anger into a crippling depression. One that resulted in his hands softly grasping your shoulders, and tugging you into his body. His face found your neck and slowly started to grow damp with what you realized were his tears. 

Your heart broke a bit, too much empathy, even for this asshole. Your arms came to wrap around his shoulders, letting him cry it out. 

That was the first and only time you saw Ransom cry over anything. If he hadn’t been as drunk as he was you knew that moment would never have happened. The sweet little moment that made your heart ache was quickly gone the next morning when Ransom made you coffee and thought it would be hilarious that after you thanked him for being so sweet he joked that he poisoned it. You could still recall the cackles of laughter as you spit your coffee into the sink. 

That was the day he began writing his first novel. 

He came home alone tonight which was strange. And far earlier than normal. You usually were in bed, or holed up in his study by the time he arrived him after a night out. Staying out of his way as he drug a bubbly hopeful girl up to his bed to satisfy his own needs for the night. He found you tonight, sitting outside, watching Netflix on your tablet by the firepit you had decided to light, a hot cup of tea sitting on the end table next to you. Cozy and wrapped in a blanket. 

You could feel his eyes on you from the doorway. You tapped the screen, pausing your show and turned to look at him. His hair was slightly mussed, face flushed, and socked toes curling from the chill. He was looking at you strangely. 

“You’re home early.” You placed the tablet down on the end table, turning to face him. He nodded, crossing his arms and leaning against the door jam. 

“I just needed a drive.” There was a soft smile on his face, well that’s new. 

“Is everything okay?” He never tells you anything, but the sentiment matters. He looked to his feet, nodding. 

“I’m probably going to try to stay up and finish the book tonight.” He shifted himself back into the house, your voice calling out to him, 

“Come sit out here for a bit. It’s calming, just take a break from thinking for a minute.” He sighed and looked at you again, debating something in his head. 

“I need to be alone.” You tried anyway. He disappeared from sight. And that was that. 

The next day Ransom began acting even more strangely. The book was finished, the last two chapters handed wordlessly to you as he left for the gym on what you’re assuming was no sleep. That wasn’t the strange part. The strange part was when he returned three hours later bearing a box of donuts from your favorite bakery and two lattes, on his face was a smile. 

“What did you do?” You accused, “Did you poison this?” You gestured towards the latte he placed in your hand. 

“No.” He laughed, sliding the box of donuts to you. You stared at him skeptically before taking a sip. Tastes normal. 

“Are you sick?” Your wrist coming to lay across his forehead, temperature feels fine. 

“No.” He laughed again, pulling your wrist from his forehead and kissing your palm before opening the box of donuts, pulling a cinnamon sugar donut to his lips. “You just told me the other day how you missed these and I figured since I passed the shop on the way back it wouldn’t hurt to go pick some up.” It was suspicious. You continued to look at him skeptically. He sighed, placing the donut on the counter, grabbing the latte from your hand he took a large sip of it. “I didn’t fucking poison you Y/N.” 

Okay.

Okay. You examined the box of donuts, pulling out the bear claw that was begging to be eaten. Still warm. You moaned in delight as soon as the warm pastry hit your taste buds. You really had missed these. Opening your eyes, you saw Ransom staring blankly at you before his eyes shifted to the packet by your side. 

“All finished?” You swallowed and nodded, sliding the packet marked with red over to him and as he began to study your notes you tried to think about what could have possibly gotten him in such a good mood. The Doctor’s visit was odd enough. Yes he was angry when the Doctor left, but then just a drive? Not a blackout drunk, bringing two girls home to pleasure himself with and accidentally falling into a line or two of coke night, but a drive? 

Maybe therapy had been working? Maybe he had a breakthrough? He finished the novel. The eldest son had something to do with it, his airtight alibi just that, a cover for the crime having been committed at a different time than the coroner’s estimated time frame due to him freezing the body and allowing it to thaw in the house. 

You had asked Harlan how he came up with such incredible stories once. He said they just popped into his head fully formed, his brain moving faster than his fingers. He kept a little notebook with good ideas and would simmer in them as long as it took for a stroke of inspiration. The rest was just typing. 

He smirked at some of your comments, ‘what a fucking joke’ you wrote next to the eldest son’s monologue about being passed over, his whining, annoying, self centered crying about how life wasn’t fair. 

“What’s the smirk for?” You asked, removing the lid of your latte and dipping part of the bear claw in it. 

“The lack of sympathy for Greg.” You scoffed and rolled your eyes. 

“He’s a fucking loser.” Ransom’s eyes met yours, “I bet you see a lot of yourself in him.” That made him laugh. 

“What? You don’t like spoiled rich men?” He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms in front of his chest. You rolled your eyes, taking another sip from the milky sweet latte you didn’t know would feel like your life’s blood right now. 

“I think you know the answer to that.” 

“I think you find me endearing.” Ransom smirked. Your neck flushed. 

“I find you annoying,” You admitted. “I only put up with you because of my paycheck.” He licked his lips.

“Sure,” He closed the packet, pushing it aside to take another bite of the donut, cinnamon sugar dusting his lips. “You put up with me because you’re secretly in love with me, but you know that I would never get with The Help.” This made you laugh. 

“If you want me to be the Help I’ll gladly call you Hugh if it means you leave me alone.” He placed his paper cup on the counter, circling around to you. 

“I like when you call me Hugh.” His hands came to rest on your upper arms, grinning. 

“You’re disgusting.” He laughed at the clear displeasure on your face, spinning your stool around to him, and you leaned back, creating some distance as he came to stand between your legs. 

“You don’t mean that do you baby?” His fingers toying with the ends of your hair. You could feel your nipples harden in excitement, body betraying you. A wet growing between your legs. 

“Ransom what are you doing?” You said in exasperation. You weren’t blind. Ransom was gorgeous. You’d maybe, possibly, gotten off to the thought of him once or twice or maybe more than that in the four years you’ve known him. But he was also a scumbag who fucks and then throws girls out hours later. His moods were hot and cold. He had major Mommy issues and he’s not technically guilty of murder, but he’s a fucking murderer. But also… he’s been going to therapy and after that fight on his birthday last year he’s never laid a hand on you in anger again, there’s been some arguments sure, but he’s mostly nice to you. Caring even. 

“Why don’t you love me Y/N?” His voice almost came out as a whine. He was playing with you. 

“Ransom stop.” You pushed him away gently. He was fucking smirking. 

“Usually there’s a ‘don’t’ in front of that.” Cocky bastard. 

“You’re the worst person I know. And I hate that fucking smirk.” You picked at your now cold bear claw, trying to turn from him. 

“Why don’t you wipe it off my face then?” Your eyes met his and you glared. 

“What’s gotten into you today? Maybe you should go out early. Find some girl to satisfy whatever you’re going through right now.” His hands met your hips, spinning your stool back around to face him. 

“What if I want you to satisfy whatever I’m going through right now.” His groin fit right up against your core and you could feel his throbbing heat between your legs. Fuck. 

“Don’t make this mistake Ransom.” You placed one hand gently on his chest, attempting (but not really) to push him back. His forehead coming to rest against yours. “You don’t want this.”

“This is the only thing I’ve ever really wanted.” His breath mingled with yours, sweet, cinnamon and coffee. 

“You’re not thinking straight.” His lips brushed against yours, tongue coming out to wet his lips, his eyes locked with yours. Why weren’t you pushing him away? Your breath hitched as his tongue accidentally grazed your bottom lip. 

“The only clarity I’ve ever had in my life has been when I’m with you.”

His lips pressed heavily against yours, pushing you back against your bedroom door as his hand came to tangle in your hair. He was all consuming, body hot and heavy against yours. Your core was thrumming with want, moisture pooling in the crotch of your yoga pants. His hips were rolling into yours and you could feel the hard length of him against your belly. His lips quickly moved across your jaw to your neck and you could hear yourself moaning softly as he licked, sucked, and nibbled on the sensitive skin below your ear. Your hands clenching the soft material of the t-shirt by his hips, dipping your fingers slowly into the waistband of his shorts. 

His lips parted from your neck, hand tilting your head back so he could look into your eyes before taking your mouth once more. His mouth moved down this time to the tops of your breasts, hands leaving to shift the thick wool cardigan off your shoulders and onto the floor before dropping the straps of your camisole and exposing them to the air, nipples already pebbled in excitement. 

You hadn’t dated in a while, unable to because of your paid house arrest and before that the way Ransom had worked you to the bone picking up after him. And the touch from someone else always felt better than your own. His hands felt huge on you, protecting. 

Your head met the door as he enveloped your right nipple in his mouth, rolling the sensitive bud on his tongue until he felt the left neglected, and switched, beginning to toy with your right nipple between his finger tips. Moans and heavy breaths were the only sounds in the hallway as Ransom made his way down your body, slipping your yoga pants and panties off your hips as he found his knees before you. 

“Ransom-” 

“Shhhhh,” He pressed his lips against your naval, working his way to your trembling core. His hand lifted your right thigh, draping it over his shoulder as his eyes focused in on your, what you knew must be soaking, wet pussy. His eyes met yours from his knees, your legs trembling with anticipation, eyes locked as his pink tongue came to meet your pussy for the first time, a shuddering breath being released from you urged him on further. 

His thick fingers spread your lips open, exposing your clit to his gentle assault. A building pleasure in your core as his tongue began to skillfully work, pulling moans from your mouth. How was he so good at this? Experimenting with different strokes, different pressure, finding what you like. 

“Just like that, oh my god.” He rolled his tongue against your clit, eyes finding yours once more, keeping pace. You could see the corner of his mouth pull up in a smirk as he began to work you up to climax. “You’re such a fucking asshole, I hate that fucking smirk.” Head hitting back against the door as he used his fingers to tease your opening. “Oh my god.” Your hips bucked against his face, causing him to use the arm currently wrapped around your thigh to splay open on your abdomen, holding your hips still. The wet noises and soft grunts from the man between your thighs only caused you to grow closer to your release. 

“You taste so fucking good baby,” moaned between your thighs. 

“Don’t fucking stop.” You scolded. So close. So fucking close. He obeyed, continuing his assault on your dripping pussy, fingers entering your tight channel to stroke against your sensitive walls. He buried his face further into your pussy, nose coming to rest in the soft curls there as he watched you come undone. Your moans escalating in volume as you felt your body tighten with pleasure, hips begging to buck against his face as he rode you through it. He continued to lick and suck on your clit until your hands found his head, pushing him away, legs shaking as you dropped against the door, knees coming to rest around his body. 

That fucking smirk, “How was that?” He asked, face glistening with your cum. 

“Fuck you Ransom.” And he fucking laughed the bastard. What a fucking dick. He brought his face back to yours, gently claiming your lips. The tang of your pussy ever present as you felt him consume you. Your heart was still racing as he picked you up from the floor, bringing you into his bedroom and ever so gently laying you down on the sheets you had just changed two hours ago. 

His eyes were shifting between yours, a strange expression on his face. 

“You can’t kick me out tomorrow Ransom,” Your breathing was heavy as he began to work at your neck, his hands going to remove his gym shorts. “I can’t leave.” He pressed his lips back to yours as you felt him rub the tip of his dick against your clit, your body shaking with over-stimulation. It felt so intimate. Before, his eyes on yours as he brought you over with his tongue and now as he slowly enters you, stretching your walls with his thick cock, eyes not breaking contact he sighs,

“I think you’re the only person I’ve ever loved.” 

[serena-inverse]

Meeting Macaque Part 2

Read Part 1 Here // Read Part 3 Here

Who is that Monkie Kid OC hanging out with Mac? Her name is Dragonfly, and you can see her profile here

Click here for a Masterlist of all the comics/art in this series

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Macaque had fully expected Dragonfly to simply wait for him while he went and ‘retrieved’ the Shadow Lantern’s handle...which truly showed how little he knew her. She’d popped through a portal as soon as he’d settled down on a hill overlooking the only building on the island, and immediately asked how he intended to break in.

"You don’t care that I’m stealing it?” He'd blurted out, more then a little thrown by her sudden appearance and comment.

“From this guy?” She’d laughed, “No way, he’s a total tool. He absolutely deserves to have something snatched out from under him, it might teach him a lesson about bragging about his ‘fool proof’ security to everyone who’ll listen.”

“Wait- you know this guy? And what he does? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“You didn’t ask.” She shrugged with a lazy grin, and Macaque had to forcefully  remind himself that he needed her intact in order to portal him back off the island once he was done.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Macaque couldn’t quite believe it when Dragonfly volunteered to create a distraction so he could slip past the ridiculous security system. He didn’t understand why she’d want to stick her neck out like that, he’d only paid her to transport him too and from the island after all, but he also wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Besides, she seemed supremely confident, and he figured she could always portal herself to safety if she got in over her head. With that in mind he agreed to her proposal, though he did make a shadow clone tail her for good measure.

He really didn’t know what to expect, but when the pre-determined time came, it sounded like absolute CHAOS had been unleashed on the opposite side of the mansion. Earth-shaking roars rattled the windows and the ground trembled as what sounded like a large-scale battle took place. Guards ran past his hiding spot, completely oblivious to him as they hurried to provide support, and Mac soon found the once heavily guarded vault door completely deserted. With more time to spare then he’d expected, he couldn’t resist peeking quickly out the window to see what on earth the kid had done, and nothing in his 5,000 year existence could have prepared him for what he saw.

There was a Kraken, a real, live, very angry and disoriented KRAKEN, flailing around in the courtyard. The portal it must have arrived through was still hovering in mid-air, a torrent of sea water pouring out and flooding the cobblestones, sending new guards that ran in without looking sliding this way and that. The few that had managed to remain standing were covered sticky back ink and were staring helplessly as the Kraken tore down walls and buildings in it’s attempts to get back to the ocean. It was clear that they were all rapidly coming to the conclusion that they were not paid enough to deal with this, as many of them abruptly tossed down their weapons (which would have been about as effective as candyfloss against a Krakens hide) and started walking away.

Mac hadn’t laughed so hard in a over a thousand years, just the sheer ridiculousness of it all was enough to have him in stitches, and in the end one of his own shadow clones had to come and drag him back to the task at hand.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Unfortunately it turned out that at least one of the guards had more then two brain-cells to rub together, and figured that someone should go back and check on the vault. Luckily Mac had already located the lantern’s handle by then, and he easily overpowered the guards that arrived and headed for the exit with his stolen loot. The enchanted arrows they started firing at him as he made his escape were more of an issue, but then Dragonfly had dropped in out of another portal, sounding rather breathless but smiling widely as she started running alongside him.

“Sorry, had to send Jeffery back home, did I miss anything? Wow these guys look MAD!”

She opened a portal behind them as she spoke, diverting the arrows away, and Mac found another laugh tearing it’s way out of his throat.

“I can’t believe that worked! You’re insane kid!”

“Haha! It works every time- no one actually expects you to release the Kraken on them!” She grinned, jumping from portal and portal as she spoke to keep pace with him.

It was the first time in a long while that Mac found himself leaving a crime scene with a sincere laugh rolling out his throat, rather then the usual vindictive, mocking cackle.

It was a nice change of pace.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Wanna go grab some victory Boba?” Dragonfly asked out of nowhere as she pocketed the second half of her payment, which Mac had handed over once she’d safely portaled them back to the rooftop in Beijing they’d started on.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“It was a successful heist, right? So- victory Boba!”

“...That is so not a thing.”

"Well it’s a Dragonfly thing- successful mission equals you going and getting whatever food or drink you’re in the mood for as a treat!”

“And at the moment that’s Boba Tea, huh?” Mac asked, crossing his arms over his chest but not bothering to hide his grin.

“Yup, and I know a really great shop in Korea!” Dragonfly beamed, opening another portal as she spoke and sticking one leg through before pausing and turning back to him.

“Tell you what, I’ll leave this open for 5 minutes, you can come with me if you want, but no hard feelings if you wanna split now the jobs over. In any case, this was super fun, give me a call if you ever need a portal again! Byeeee!”

With that she disappeared into the swirling golden vortex, leaving him alone on the rooftop, his prize carefully stored away in a hidden pocket. Macaque stood there for a moment, mentally weighing up his options. She’d been stunningly versatile with her use of portals today, and having someone with that sort of power on his side would be incredibly useful for his future plans...

The Six-Eared-Macaque smirked, his lips pulling back to reveal far too many teeth, and his eyes flashed a deep violet hue before he swept back his hair and put on his most charming and persuasive facade.

Then he stepped forward, and followed the Dragonfly into the light.