#my imm mates

[amomentpassed]

i just had the most painful conversation with some narcissistic fuck in my hostel i am ENRAGED

[villain-crown]

neutral | @jegulus-microfic | words: 1,309

critical care, part 9 (part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8)

* a small amount of explicit content!!

a Jegulus nurse!AU

Regulus Black was an absolute nightmare. 

James knew this because he was watching the evidence of it in real time, in awe of the sweet-looking Slytherin who he knew to be anything but. 

After the heart attack-inducing moment when Sirius has unknowingly advised James to have dirty, unprotected sex with his precious little brother, James knew he was going to need something a lot stronger than coffee to get through the rest of this shitshow of a day. Since injecting vodka directly into his fucking bloodstream wasn’t in the cards, he’d begged, bribed, and bullied most of Gryffindor to order takeaway drinks with him from the nearest boba shop. He was just relaxing into the peace of his first sip when who else but the menace occupying his thoughts came sauntering up to the Surgical ICU nurses’ station.

James choked. 

“Hey, Reggie!” Sirius sang from near his elbow, rifling around the cardboard cup holders containing twenty plastic containers. “I have your order here.”

Taking advantage of his best friend’s momentary distraction, James couldn’t stop himself from checking Regulus out. He looked as fit as ever in his cute forest-green Slytherin scrubs, tilting his head with a devastating smirk when he caught James’s eye. 

The Gryffindor could feel his face redden as the other man’s eyes drew a long, heated line from his face, to his chest, to his waistband, and then finally, to his—

The suggestive look vanished like it was never there, replaced by something much more neutral when Sirius straightened up, holding a purple drink. 

“Here you go, kid.”

“I don’t want that one,” Regulus said with the most adorable pout James had ever witnessed in his life. He suddenly couldn’t figure out where to look or what to do with his hands when Regulus turned that look on him. “What did you order, Potter?”

Sirius raised a finger immediately as James tried to remember how words worked. “No. Don’t tell him, Prongs! No, you’re not getting your way this time, you little brat. You wanted the taro, I bought you the taro, you’re having the taro!”

Meanwhile, James thought he might pass out from the sheer intensity of Regulus’s undivided attention. 

Fuck, he’s pretty. 

“James,” the petite Slytherin cooed, and damn he was so screwed as Regulus bit his lip just so, his dove-gray eyes wide. He stepped closer so that his smaller build seemed even more obviously so compared to James’s height and muscle. Regulus’s powdery, amber scent was almost too much to resist as he tilted his neck, as though to show off the soft, unmarked skin there. “Please?”

“I… I already put my mouth on it,” James said stupidly, his lips oddly dry. 

“Oh, I don’t mind.”

That only prompted James’s imagination, which supplied a fantastic picture of Regulus not minding where else he put his mouth. For instance, Regulus with two of James’s fingers stuffed past his lips, coating them in saliva and teasing him with the warm, wet twist of his tongue. 

“Ugh, here, just take mine, Reggie.”

James was jolted back into awareness by a takeaway cup labeled Sirius being thrust into Regulus's line of sight. 

Panicking, James nearly tripped over himself for the opportunity to offer his sugary milk tea to him instead. 

“No, wait! Here, Regulus, try mine! It’s okay, really!” 

Sirius rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. “Don’t encourage him, Prongs. It’s bad enough he’s got me wrapped around his stupid little finger. There’s still time to save you.”

No there bloody isn’t, mate.

“I’m supposed to be reinforcing boundaries with you,” Sirius added to his little brother accusingly. “And I didn’t have to buy your drink order, you know. You’re not even floating here.”

“Thank you,” Regulus offered with the loveliest combination of wicked eyes and innocent smile that James had ever seen on anyone.

Sirius sighed, folding immediately as he shook the drink labeled Reggie vigorously before stabbing the plastic top with a thick straw. “You’re bloody lucky I’d do anything for you, you little monster.”

That pulled a real smile to Regulus’s lips that made James want to melt.

“I’m going to bring Remus his. He’s about to admit a liver bomb and you know how busy that will be.”

Sirius wandered off, nursing his new drink, leaving just James and Regulus standing there, staring at each other. 

“What did he mean by that?”

Regulus blinked. “What?”

“That he’s supposed to be reinforcing boundaries with you.”

The Slytherin sucked at James’s straw, unconcerned. The Gryffindor watched him do so closely, imagining Regulus’s pretty curls framing his cheeks as they hallowed to suck the fluid from James’s cock. 

“Our therapist told him that.”

“Your…?”

Regulus looked at him like he was an idiot. “Therapist. You don’t survive our family without needing one. You’re his best friend. I figured he’d told you we were in family therapy.” 

James couldn’t help but feel a little guilty. While Sirius had not in fact told him so, it wasn’t that much of a surprise. From what he’d gathered about Sirius and Regulus’s parents’ underhanded and emotionally manipulative tactics, it sounded like Sirius had a hard time letting people see any sort of vulnerability, despite their years of friendship. 

But James had seen it. 

He’d seen it in the way Sirius bought his little brother boba and in the way he’d called him “kid.” It seemed like a poor repayment of their friendship, James turning around and railing Regulus in his bed for as long as the other man wanted it and his stamina allowed.

But Regulus… fuck, he was stunning and mean with an unexpectedly wicked sense of humor that was definitely going to get James killed.

Maybe if I just fuck him once, I’ll get it out of my system, James thought desperately. Sirius doesn’t have to know. 

“What’s this?” Regulus asked as he examined the white board next to them, oblivious to how his mere presence was twisting James’s thoughts and feelings into pretzels. 

It was a busy board, boasting the day’s nursing assignments as well as the names of the interns, residents, fellows, and attendings staffing the unit for July. At the top of the board in Doctor McGonagall’s severe cursive was the riddle of the day: her way of connecting with the Gryffindor staff, who James secretly thought she viewed as her own children.

“It’s the unit riddle. You text McGonagall the answer if you think you know it, and she gives you a prize if you’re right.”

“Wouldn’t people just Google the answer?”

James gaped at him, offended. “That’s cheating!”

Regulus laughed, a real, genuine laugh that made his heart stutter in his chest. A faint blush of pink dusted across the Slytherin’s fair cheeks, giving him a truly beautiful glow that was even more appealing than crowding him up against the wall of an elevator or watching him verbally overpower Tom Riddle (though it was a damn close call).

“Let’s see. ‘I have cities but no houses, mountains but no trees. I have water but no fishes, and islands but no breeze. What am I?’ Did you guess it yet?”

James was so wrapped up in the sheer pleasure of listening to Regulus speak that he didn’t answer immediately. “Oh. Yeah, but I wasn’t right about the answer.”

Speaking of riddles, if Sirius did hypothetically find out, he should only be too grateful that it was James Regulus was seducing instead of someone like Tom Riddle, who was honestly the most arrogant doctor James had ever had the displeasure of knowing. He still couldn’t believe Regulus had tolerated the man long enough for them to couple. 

Sirius hates Riddle, James told himself as Regulus contemplated the puzzle, smirked to himself, and pulled out his phone—presumably to text McGonagall his answer.

So I’m basically doing him a favor, sleeping with his brother.

((Click “keep reading” for the answer to Dr. McGonagall’s riddle! 🫶))

Answer: a map 🗺️

[ghost-in-the-hall]

Annoyance (Corey Taylor x Fem! Reader) SMUT

Hello hello! This was a request for cutie_maggot on AO3! This is my first time really writing Corey, so hopefully it turned out alright. Thank you so much for reading!!

WARNINGS: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, ADULT CONTENT, MDNI, 18+ CONTENT, porn very little plot, swearing, degradation (some praise), oral (m receiving), hair pulling, biting, fingering, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, mask kink, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, slight breeding kink, creampie, aftercare, if I missed any please let me know!!

My Masterlist! ~ Tip Jar! ~ AO3 Link!

Divider Credit: @adornedwithlight

You had decided to wear a new dress you had just bought to the show tonight, something you specifically picked out because you knew Corey would love it. Which, he definitely did, the moment he laid his eyes on you his hands were already drifting over your body, whispering in your ear how he can't wait to tear that dress off you with his teeth later tonight.

The problems started with Shawn.

“Well, don't you look pretty, bird?” You didn't have to look at him to know his gaze had settled onto the curve of your ass. That was strike one. You could already feel the annoyance rolling off Corey in waves.

“Get your eyes off my fuckin’ girl, Shawn.” He spits, wrapping an arm possessively around your waist, dragging you into his side.

Strikes two and three came at the same time. 

Corey trusted you completely, he knew that his pretty little girlfriend only had eyes for him at the end of the day. But, he still couldn't stop himself from getting a bit jealous whenever you would receive attention from someone else. 

Jim knew he ran the risk of pissing Corey off, but he couldn't deny how cute he found your flustered expression as he complimented you. “That dress looks very pretty on you, love.” He rests his elbows on his knees, smirking as he watches your eyes nervously dart away from him.

“I think someone likes having all the attention on them, don't you, pretty girl?” Your heart races as you meet Mick’s playful gaze, never one to miss an opportunity to leave you a flustered mess, for better or for worse. “Corey is one lucky son of a bitch, isn't he Jim?” He chuckles, bright blue eyes trailing hungrily over your tiny form, like an animal sizing up its prey.

Jim lets out a hum of approval, “lucky, indeed.” He responds, letting each syllable carefully roll off his tongue. They both chuckle as they’re called to line up to head out on stage.

“Just wait until I get my fuckin’ hands on you.” A shiver runs down your spine as Corey growls in your ear. He grabs you by the waist, pressing your body flush to his. You can feel his hard cock press into the curve of your ass. “I've gotta make sure my girl doesn't forget who she belongs to.” He nips at your skin, making you yelp. You don't miss the dark, lust filled expression in his eyes as your gaze meets his. You wish him luck, he presses a hot, heady kiss to your lips before joining the others. 

After the show, he was quick to get you alone, pushing you into an empty dressing room. Corey growls, roughly pinning you to the wall, a hand on either side of your head. “I just can't leave you alone for a single fucking second, can I?” He asks in a low, dangerous tone. “I turn my back only for you to let my band mates drool all over you, is that right, baby?” Your breath hitches in your throat as you feel his sharp teeth pass over the sensitive skin of your neck. “I guess I can't blame them though, can I? My girl just looks so pretty, how could they keep their eyes off you?” His lips crash against yours with bruising force, your knees giving out underneath you only to be held up by Corey's strong body pressing into yours. “Who do you belong to?” He growls against your lips.

“You.” You can't stop the smile from tugging at your lips, your heart racing as you answer his question.

He breathes out a chuckle. “Prove it.” He smirks, gaze dropping to your pretty lips. “On your knees, princess.” You immediately give into his request, your knees coming into contact with the rough, ratty carpet with a dull thud. He grabs your chin tightly in his hand, keeping your eyes locked on his as he slowly unzips his jumpsuit, bright blue irises staring back at you from the black pits where they sat behind his mask. You pull your lip between your teeth, unable to keep your eyes off his erection as it struggles against the confines of his boxers. “I've been waiting all night to be able to use that filthy fucking mouth of yours.” His fingers slide into your hair, roughly tugging at the strands, making you let out a soft moan. Your hands slide up his legs, settling on the waistband of his boxers. “Well, what are you waiting for? Get to work.”

He keeps a tight grip at the nape of your neck as you lean in, running your tongue along the base of his cock all the way up to its angry, red tip. Corey curses under his breath, dragging your outstretched tongue back and forth across his member. “Dirty slut.” He breathes out through a chuckle. “That’s it, get me nice and lubed up so I can fuck you stupid.” He groans as he pushes the tip of his cock into the warm cavern of your mouth. “I’m going to fucking ruin you to make sure those assholes can never come close to making you feel as good as I can.” You moan around him as you feel his hips stutter, easing his cock into your mouth. He presses into the back of your throat with a groan, a devilish smirk passing over his features as he hears you choke around him. He eases it out of your mouth just enough to allow a gasp of oxygen to slip down your throat only for him to slam back into you again. Tears began gathering along your lashes with every harsh, unforgiving thrust, eventually sliding down your cheeks, leaving red streaks in their wake. You feel his fingers twitch, a low growl rumbling from his chest before he pulls you off him. “Don’t want to get too carried away now, do we?” He asks with a shuddering breath. He pulls you up to meet him, lips crashing against yours as he stumbles blindly in the direction of the couch in the room. You yelp as the back of your knees connect with the cushions, sending both you and Corey tumbling down into the worn leather. He grabs hungrily at your waist, hoisting up your hips in order to slip your panties down your legs.

“You look really pretty in this dress, baby. It’s too bad I’m going to fucking ruin it.” He growls, pressing the air from your lungs as he sinks his full weight into you. You gasp as he sinks his teeth into your shoulder, he chuckles as he feels you claw desperately at wherever you could reach. He grabs your wrists in his hands, pinning you to the couch below him as he feverishly bites and sucks at your neck. He pushes your dress up to your hips, swapping both wrists into one hand as the other slides in between your legs. You whine as he starts to draw slow, tight circles on your clit. You moan his name as you buck into his hand, he chuckles at the sound of your needy whines. “What's the matter, baby?” He coos, keeping up the same sluggish pace. “Not enough?”

“Corey, please.” You whimper. “Wanna cum in your fingers.”

He smirks, “is that right? My little slut wants me to make her cum, hm?” You nod, pushing yourself against his fingers, desperate for any more friction than he was giving you. You let out a loud, broken moan as he slips two fingers inside of you. “Someone's really needy, aren't they?” He teases you with a chuckle, making your cheeks grow warm. “Look at that greedy little pussy, taking my fingers so well.” You gasp as you feel him scissoring you open, preparing you to be stuffed full of his cock. He expertly crooks his fingers into a spot that had you crying out, desperately grabbing onto him as white hot pleasure seared across your entire body. 

“Corey.” You whimper his name, nails digging into his arm as you feel the coil in your core winding impossibly tight, ready to snap at any second. Your thighs shake uncontrollably as you finally come undone.

“That's it baby, fuck.” Corey growls, fingers fucking into you at an animalistic pace as he pushes you through your high. Your arousal coated his hand, beads of your slick dripping down his wrist. “Again.” He orders firmly, not slowing as you feel pressure building in your core once again.

“I can't.” You respond weakly. You yelp as Corey suddenly pulls his fingers out of you and delivers a harsh slap to your clit.

“I said, again.” He growls dangerously, returning to his previous, vicious pace. His thumb presses roughly to your clit, fingers dragging deliciously over your sensitive walls. He works you right up to the edge, leaving you gasping and clawing at his wrists, before expertly tipping you over the edge. You sobbed as he repeated the the process two, three, four more times. Your body jolted as he tells his fingers against your clit. “Dirty girl.” He chuckles.

He flips you over onto your hands and knees, heat radiating off his chest as he blankets your back. He grabs roughly into your hips, his fingertips pushing into you in a way that you knew would leave bruises behind. You moan as he teases your entrance with the tip of his cock. “By the time I'm done with you you're only going to be able to think about me.” He groans next to your ear. Your knees threaten to give out as he eased inside of you, a strong arm wrapping around your waist in order to hold you upright. Corey curses as he bottoms out inside of you, hips molding to the curve of your ass as he pulls as your supple skin. “You always take me so perfectly, baby.” He coos, making you moan as he eased himself out to the top only to slam back into you. “Always doing so good, just for me.” You gasp at the feeling of his hot tongue running up the side of your neck, your thighs trembling as his pace gradually begins to increase. “Gonna have to fill you up, make sure everyone knows that pretty pussy belongs to me.” He tangles a hand in your hair, pushing your face down roughly into the couch cushions, the other delivering a sharp smack to your ass. The room filled with the sounds of your fervent moans and whine, his cock mercilessly pumping into your slick heat. He chuckles as he feels you tense, your gummy walls attempting to clamp down on him with every last remaining bit of strength as you come undone. You scream out his name as he roughly runs at your clit, tears streaming down your cheeks as you writhed underneath him, the overstimulating pleasure knocking the breath from your lungs. He pulls you up by your hair, you whine as he bites down harshly on your neck, a growl bubbling up in his throat as you feel his hips start to stutter. “All. Fucking. Mine.” He snarls against the side of your face, a groan leaving him as he presses as deep inside of you as he can manage. He curses, hips rocking slightly as you feel his cum pool inside you. “That's my pretty girl, letting me fill her up.” He presses his lips to the top of your head. He keeps himself connected to you for a few moments, sweat dripping from his chest and into your back. 

He begins to soothingly stroke his thumb over your stomach. “I'm gonna get you cleaned up, okay, baby?” He says softly, helping you into a more comfortable position before cleaning up his mess. He looks around the room, managing to find his stuff in order to slip the oversized shirt from his bag over your head. “I'll help you finish getting dressed in a minute, come here, love.” He collapses into the couch next to you, opening his arms for you to crawl into. He cradles you against his chest, fingers carefully carding through your hair, a drastic contrast to how rough he had been with you. “How are you feeling?”

“Sleepy.” You respond, making him chuckle.

“You doing okay after that, baby? Was I too rough?” You shake your head, fidgeting with his fingers as a soft smile settles into your lips.

“No, you weren't, I promise.” You lay your head against his shoulder, your eyes meeting his bright blue ones. “You really don't like it when the others compliment me, huh?” You giggle.

Corey chuckles in response, taking your hand and bringing it to his lips, carefully kissing each knuckle. “I just don't like people trying to take what's mine, baby.”

“You know I would never leave you, right?” 

“Of course I do. I trust you completely, you're my girl. But, I know they're a bunch of fucking animals.” You both laugh. “I love you, and I'm so happy you're all mine.”

“I love you, Corey.” He presses a gentle kiss to your lips.

“Now, how about we finish getting dressed, and we head back to the hotel, I'll see if the kitchen’s still open, maybe they can make us a pizza.” He offers with a laugh.

“You might have to carry my back, I don't think my legs work.”

[chelseachilly]

i watched it begin again

pairing: reader x ben chilwell summary: ever since your last relationship ended badly, you've lost all hope in love. until your best friend convinces you to go on a date with her bf's friend ben warnings: none word count: 2.7k

author's note: this is just a short little something inspired by one of my favourite songs, begin again by taylor swift ❤️ and bc the thought of a first date with ben is just so perfect to me 😌

-

As you sit in an Uber on your way to Marylebone, fidgeting nervously with the hem of your dress, you can’t help but wonder how you got here.

It took a lot of convincing - to be precise, three glasses of white wine, some chocolates, and the agreement to watch your favourite movie on Netflix that night - for your best friend to convince you to go on this date last weekend.

Mia, one of your closest friends since you were kids, knows better than anyone how reluctant you’ve been to return to dating life ever since your last relationship ended catastrophically. Your last boyfriend, Jack, who had also been your first serious one, had completely broken your heart eight months ago. 

After two years together, just when you were beginning to think about taking the next step and move in with him, you caught him cheating on you with in his flat with a coworker he had sworn was just a friend. You were so completely devastated by this betrayal and the sudden end of your relationship that you haven’t so much as downloaded a dating app or talked to a guy at a bar since. 

Your friends have been loving and supportive of your decision to stay single for a while, but ever since Mia started seeing her boyfriend Harvey a couple months ago, she’s been pestering you to meet one of his friends. She’s told you several times that his mate Ben is perfect for you, but based on the little you know, you’re not sure you agree.

She showed you his Instagram a while back and, although there’s no questioning that he’s quite attractive, you don’t know if a fancy, famous footballer is the right choice to ease back into dating. You doubted that you would be his type, either, but when Mia insisted that Ben was interested and free this Thursday, you finally gave in. 

You figured the worst that could happen is you realize you’re not ready to date again or that there isn’t a connection between you and you wasted one evening having dinner with a stranger. 

But now that you’re sitting in this car, about to go on an actual date for the first time in forever, you feel like you might explode with nerves. You don’t remember how to flirt, how to tell someone about yourself, how to act cool and composed. You could be totally awkward and weird and he might never want to see you again. 

Or, even worse, you could fall madly in love, only for him to end up breaking your heart. That’s the far more terrifying possibility.

You have half a mind to ask the driver to turn around and take you back home, but you force yourself not to. Mia would be upset with you, and you figure you owe it to her not to stand up Harvey’s friend for no real reason.

Your hands are shaking slightly as you get out of the car and enter the restaurant. You consider waiting outside for him, as you’re a couple minutes early and he probably isn’t here yet, but it’s freezing out right now, so you decide to head in. 

“Hi, do you have a reservation?” the hostess asks you, and you nod a bit shyly. 

“Yes, it should be under Chilwell? But I’m early, so I can just wait-"

“Right this way,” she says with a smile, motioning for you to follow her. 

It’s a small restaurant, with no more than ten tables, most of them occupied. There are candles burning and soft music is playing, the atmosphere somehow romantic without being cheesy. 

You feel slightly more at ease knowing it’s not some insanely posh place like you were half-expecting it to be, and then you lock eyes with your date. 

Your stomach erupts with butterflies - something you also weren’t quite expecting - when you see him, immediately realizing that the photos Mia showed you did not do him justice. 

He’s gorgeous, with bright blue eyes that light up when he sees you and wavy dark hair that you could spend hours running your fingers through. He quickly stands up as you approach the table, smoothing out any wrinkles in the dark blue trousers he’s wearing, paired with a black knit jumper and Nikes.

You can hear Mia’s words echoing in your ears: “Harv swears he has a heart of gold. He had a bad breakup last year too, so you’re in the same boat. Just give him a chance and see how it goes!”

“Y/N!” Ben smiles, greeting you with a quick hug. “It’s good to finally meet you, Mia’s talked a lot about you.” 

Oh, god, you think to yourself, hoping your best friend hasn’t overhyped you too much. 

“Good to meet you too,” you say, returning his smile. “And that sounds like Mia, she talks a lot about everything.” 

“That’s probably why she and Harv work so well,” he quips.

Ben is still standing quite close to you, and it takes you a moment to realize he’s pulled out your chair for you to sit down. You’re not sure if a guy has ever done that for you before. 

You oblige, taking the seat and letting him push you in before sitting across from you. Something your mum told you when you were a kid about how a gentleman behaves comes to mind, but you try not to let your mind wander too much. It’s been about twenty seconds, there’s plenty of time for him to prove right your current theory that all men are trash. 

“Thanks for choosing the restaurant,” you say to fill the silence, glancing around you. “It’s really nice.”

“Yeah, I come here a lot,” Ben replies. “It’s low key, which I kinda like. Mostly old people and stuff. I was actually just starting to worry you’d think it was a bit lame for a first date.”

“I don’t,” you say quickly. “I’m good with low key.”

Ben smiles at you, and you’re not sure if it’s him or the candlelight making your face feel warmer all of a sudden. 

“You look gorgeous, by the way,” he says a bit shyly. “I should’ve said that sooner.”

“Oh, thanks.” You’re certain now that you’re blushing. “So do you. I mean, you look very - not that you’re not gorgeous, men can totally be-"

You meet Ben’s gaze, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but you find no judgement in his eyes - he’s smiling at you even more now, the kind of smile that makes you feel completely at ease.

You just met this man, and yet you feel completely safe with him. 

“Sorry, this is my first date in nearly three years, I’m a bit rusty,” you admit. 

“No, you’re good,” Ben says gently. “Mia mentioned you recently got out of a long-term relationship.”

“Not that recently anymore, but…yeah,” you say. “It was a bit of a shit show. We were together two years and then one day I walked in on him sleeping with another girl. Not exactly an amicable breakup.”

Ben’s face falls. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Y/N. What a piece of shit.”

“Yeah, he really was,” you say, nodding your head. “Obviously, it was for the best, though. Better I find out he’s a lying cheater now than ten years down the line, right?”

“Definitely,” Ben agrees, “you want something to drink?”

After a couple glasses of wine and the most amazing pasta dish you’ve ever had in your life, you feel like you’ve known the person sitting across from you for years, rather than hours. 

You talk about everything - your job, his football career, your families, your friends. You talk about your ex a bit more, and then he opens up about his. There’s a nagging feeling in the back of your mind that you’re sharing too much with him, but a far stronger one telling you that this is right. It’s a feeling you’ve never had before, not with your ex and not on any other first date you had before him.

You don’t even realize how much time has passed until you look around and realize you’re the only ones left in the restaurant.

“They’re probably closing soon,” you comment, though you don’t really want to leave. 

“Twenty minutes ago, actually,” Ben says. You raise an eyebrow, and he scratches the back of his head and smiles. “Uh, I may have offered the owner a hundred quid to stay open a bit longer while you were in the loo. I’ve been having a really nice time talking to you.”

Your heart thumps in your chest, your eyes nearly beginning to water at the gesture. 

“I’ve been having a really nice time with you, too.”

After you finish your drinks and Ben pays the cheque, not even hearing out your offer to split it, you head back out into the chilly London night together. 

“I’m just gonna call an Uber,” you say, pulling out your phone with one hand and rubbing your shoulders for warmth with the other. 

“I’m parked right around the corner, I’d be happy to drive you?” Ben offers. 

You remember that he declined a second glass of wine earlier, stating that he was driving - a stark contrast from your ex, who would frequently call you to pick him and his car up from the pub after he got too pissed to drive home. 

“You really don’t have to, it’s pretty late,” you protest.

“It’s no big deal,” Ben assures you. He then shrugs off his jacket and wraps it around your shoulders without hesitation, putting an end to your clearly obvious shivering. “So you don’t freeze on the way to the car.”

You smile gratefully, unable to articulate with words how much this simple gesture means to you. 

As you walk side by side, you can’t help but admire the Christmas lights already strung up on the shops and houses you pass. 

“I love this time of year,” you say. “It’s so magical.”

“Same here,” Ben smiles. “Christmas in London is the best. Do you have any plans for the holidays this year?” 

Your brain briefly flits back to the ski trip you and your ex went on the past two years right before Christmas. A week ago, you were dreading that time coming, knowing you would end up being nostalgic for those trips and start missing him again, but somehow, that feeling seems to have vanished. 

“Just going home to see my parents,” you say. “You?”

“Yeah, we always have games around Christmas, so my family usually comes to mine and we do a big dinner on Christmas Day, then they come see me play on Boxing Day,” Ben tells you. “After the game, we always go get hot chocolate and go ice skating. My little sister suggested it when she was a bit younger, and it sort of stuck.”

The combination of Ben’s coat over your shoulders and the way your heart is melting at his sweet words makes your entire body feel warmer. 

“That’s a great tradition,” you say, looking over at him with a smile and gently bumping your arm against his. 

You arrive at Ben’s car and he opens the door for you to get in, his hand brushing against yours as you do so, and the brief touch is enough to drive you crazy. 

The drive to your flat isn’t too long, and conversation continues to flow easily between the pair of you. You can’t help but steal a glance at Ben from time to time as he drives, admiring the way the streetlights reflect in his beautiful ocean blue eyes. 

There’s a bit of a pang in your chest when he pulls up in front of your building and you know this is the end of the most incredible night you’ve had in ages. 

“Walk you to your door?” Ben offers, and you nod without hesitation.

He once again comes around to open your door for you - you know you have a low bar right now, but you’re seriously in awe of what a gentleman he’s being. 

Once you’ve arrived at the door to your flat, you turn around to face Ben, and he has a bit of an inquisitive expression on his face.

“I had a really nice time tonight,” he says softly. 

“So did I,” you say sincerely. “Thanks for dinner, and the lift home, and…just, erm, for being so wonderful.”

His cheeks now flushed with red, Ben takes a small step closer to you, and your gaze automatically falls to his lips. You want him to kiss you, you’re sure of it, but some part of you is still completely terrified of where this might go if you do. 

“Can I…” Ben murmurs, tenderly reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, and once again, you don’t hesitate. 

“Yes.”

He slowly leans in until his lips are pressed to yours, one hand gently cupping your face and the other resting on your waist. You hold his hand that rests on your cheek as you kiss him back, your lips slowly moving together in perfect harmony.

It’s fun and new and exciting to kiss him, but mostly, just like everything has this evening, it feels right.

When you pull away, it takes a moment for your eyes to remember how to open. When you do, you’re met with an awestruck grin on Ben’s face that you’re pretty sure you’re mirroring yourself. 

“Wow,” you breathe. “Been a long time since I’ve done that.”

You’re not sure if you mean kissing or falling for someone - perhaps both. 

“Me too,” Ben whispers, kissing you once more. “I think we’re pretty good at it.”

You nod, grasping at his shirt as you find yourself swaying slightly, intoxicated by his kisses and his gaze. 

“Maybe we should do it again to be sure,” you joke.

He wastes no time leaning down to kiss you again, and again, and again until you’ve lost all track of time. 

Eventually, he pulls away and takes a small step back, and you miss his lips already.

“I should probably get going,” he says, though you can tell he doesn’t really want to. You have half a mind to invite him inside, but you know it’s better to take things slow, especially when there’s a chance this could really be something. “Can I - erm, would you want to-��

“Yes, please,” you cut him off with a grin. “Text me when you get home?”

You’re already eagerly anticipating a second date - the sooner the better, honestly, despite your wishes to take it slow. 

“Definitely,” Ben says, nodding eagerly. “Have a good night, Y/N.”

He begins to turn to walk away, and you watch him get halfway to his car before fumbling for your keys and entering your flat with a giddy smile on your face. 

You realize you haven’t checked your messages all night, so you quickly return Mia’s texts. 

You flip down on your couch, still smiling like a fool, and it’s only then that you realize you’re still wearing Ben’s jacket. After panicking for a second, you quickly reach for your phone again.

You nearly throw your phone with excitement, counting down the seconds until you get to see him again and thanking your lucky stars that you agreed to go out tonight.

You thought that love died that terrible day eight months ago, that your chance at happiness was over, but now you can’t help but wonder if there’s a reason things ended the way they did. 

Maybe to make way for something better to begin. 

-

please let me know what you thought, i hope you liked this story! i have some more in the works, including a super fluffy christmas one-shot 💓

[thepacifistrouter]

Imm-a back!! With more Demon Portal AU!!

I told you I'd be back very soon!!

Just a little side note before start: There is a +18 version of this AU where Wheatley is an Incubus, if anyone here is interested in that, then I might publish it too... maybe... I need motivation guys, never done NSFW before ._.

Now, let's skip more introductions and let's start already!

First, a little reminder that this Wheatley, despite he is still Wheatley, is also a demon, which means he can be a little more reactive and aggresive.

Second, let's talk about the drawing on the left, okay? This is a picture that still needs some work cause demons are not supposed to be visible for normal humans, not quiet sure if interact with them. BUT this has a context that I can work with:

He caught a stealer trying to get in the house; he's been a while without eating, so he's starting to lose control over his worst instincts and since Chell is, at the moment, being too much of a challenge, he is hungry, frustrated and not holding back.

Demons like him can only feed on very specific stuff: Small living creatures, blood (specially human blood), vital energy and fear. Chell's going to need to think and act fast and the solution comes from an unexpected fount

You see, I really like vampires and some other super natural creatures so... yeah, I'll be mixing a few things with the demons from this AU (because is my AU and I say so) which would include the next thing

I think that would be the moment where she would not only actually talk to him, even saying long sentences, but would also call him by his name, even tho, he never told it to her.

I haven't decide this clearly yet, but I imagine a situation kinda like him saying something like he is sick of waiting and since she didn't allowed him do anything with her (I'm not sure if that would be it or he actually started to like her before this so he stoped himself a bit) he just captured another prey

-0-

They would argue since she clearly wants to stop him

"Oh come on, this is a thief, ain't them?!! why are you defending them?!!... psst, you know what? forget it. Come to think about it, this could be an even better treat than simple meal. Yeah you don't look that tasty mate... but you''re a robber, right? that's what you are, steal stuff, be a bad guy, but probably having one of those uhm... those human heartbreaking stories, probably you have some sort of fmaily behind? I can just smell it, I'm right, yeah?"

The thief nods scared

"Hah!! I knew it, even better!! so if I kill you... nobody's going to believe it was a demon... everyone will think it was you, right love?? yeah... sending you to jail over a crime you didn't comite... and killing a poor soul in misfortune, hehehe I'm winning my horn for sure with this"

Chell is mad staring at him

"I was right about you.... you haven't change a bit from the last time, have you?" he is about to take a bite "Wheatley"

Suddenly he stop himself after hearing that

"How did you.... how did you know my name!!? I'm sure! I could bet I've never told-!! you know what!!? It doesn't matter!! to be honest it doesn't matter at all!! I have a meal to take 😈 "

"No, please!!! help!!!"

"Stop it!!" she throws a salt jar to him, but, suddenly, in the middle of that, he actually and involuntarily, he does stop, to Chell's and his own confusion. There was not much time to think about it, Chell has a good aim and the salt hit him in all the face, making him to release the thief

-0-

Or something like that. Basically, in case I didn't made it clear 😅 someone can gain some level of control over a demon here IF they know and say their actual name. Neither Wheatley nor Chell know this, he is just surprise she knows his name.

A few doodles more here

The upper one happens once a good time has happens since the start, they have a bigger bond now, he got a new level (and a horn) by that point, he is trying to protect her from something or someone

In the left one, do I need to explain? The eyeball's gonna get trapped.

The right one is just him staring at the night sky, I'm doing a little parallel with a movie I like a lot (Lilo and Stitch). Wheatley feels weird during a particularly calm night, a feeling close to "nostalgia", but, since he doesn't have any memory from his human life and his life as a demon is mostly short, he feels... weird, empty, but he doesn't know what to do about it, at the moment he doesn't trust anyone enough to talk about it.

(I made his wings too big there, but let's pretend I didn't)

Aaand last, but not least

Happy Eyebat Wheatley dancing at the radio music while thinking nobody's watching!!

An that's it for this time, hoping for you to've like this

See ya

Bye!!

[sittinthroughthisoreshit]

Imposter Bramblestar AU MAP Idea Script- 111 Winchester

So I only recently discovered the absolutely amazing song "111 Winchester" by I The Mighty, and it seems so under-appreciated. It's just begging to have an animatic/MAP/PMV made of it but it doesn't look like anyone has so I made a script for one myself starring one of my lifelong obsessions. You can use this if you wanna, I have no artistic capabilities so I'm not gonna make anything out of it (although I would like to be credited if you use it please).

Trigger warning for: Possession, horror, burning alive, canon-typical animal death, Ashfur being himself

Intro:

Ashfur jumps out from the Moonpool. He promptly smacks one of his hind paws against the water and it freezes over. Panicking StarClan spirits can be seen on the other side banging their paws against the ice frantically to no avail. He smirks and heads towards ThunderClan territory. Looking out over the camp, he spies Bramblestar, Squirrelflight, and their children (Jayfeather, Lionblaze, Alderheart, and Sparkpelt) and his eyes darken with anger and his claws unsheathe

I'm feeling up tonight for something dangerous / I know a place up north that no one ever goes / I'm picking you up in ten so raid the cabinets / We'll top the liquor off they'll never know

Bramblestar is gathering his mate and children to take a little family trip out into the territory to cut loose and bond. They gather up some herbs and prey to take with them on their excursion. Bramblestar leaves Rosepetal and Thornclaw in charge of the Clan while he's gone and they happily see the family off on their day trip.

So call your girl and bring her friends / Break the lock, the fun begins

The group make their way through the forest to an idyllic-looking clearing perfect for a picnic. The happy family settle down and begin eating and talking

Here the party never ends / Long as we breathe oxygen

The group continue to settle in for their picnic. Ashfur's eyes flash from the shadows for a split second but vanish just as quickly

Turn it up a little louder 'cause no one is around here / This creepy little place is ours for now

The group talks, eats, and plays, not noticing the eerie fog that's starting to roll in- or the ghost cats that show up and take shape from said fog

How'd my drink fall off the counter? / Oh, tell me does it feel a little colder?

Lionblaze says the first line out of confusion. He had set his prey down on a flat topped rock, but it's somehow fallen off onto the ground (the viewer sees one of the ghost cats knock it off of the rock- the living cats can't see the ghosts). Sparkpelt says the second line, shivering as one of the ghosts brushes past her to join the others in clawing at the trunk of a tree before fading away and vanishing back into the fog

What's that writing in the mirrors? / Couldn't read it any clearer / Someone wants us all out of this house

The group stare at the tree where the ghost cats just were. There are now words clawed into the bark: "Get Out". Now terrified, Alderheart breaks the silence by exclaiming the last line in a panic

I'm not sure that we're alone here / Baby can you stand a little closer?

Jayfeather sings the first line, fur on end, sensing a presence that the others don't. Squirrelflight sings the second line to Bramblestar, frightened. He obliges and nuzzles his head into her fur in an attempt at reassurance, although his expression betrays his own fear and unease.

Followed the staircase but it lead me nowhere / They disappeared into the center of a wall

The group attempt to leave the clearing, but to their horror the now thick fog has covered the way back, and although they can't be sure, the more they walk the more the scenery around them looks more and more different than before, warping into something alien

I found the doorway that leads to the cellar / But only after a thirty-foot fall

Lionblaze suddenly charges forward, thinking that he sees a clear path out. However, he plunges down almost immediately after, having run over the edge of a cliff. Luckily, he manages to dig his claws into the wall of the cliff and his family all help pull him back up to safety.

Not sure where this hallway ends / Or my sanity begins / Where the hell are all my friends? / There were six when we walked in

As the group keeps moving, the members keep vanishing one by one into the fog, something silently dragging them away. By the time Bramblestar realizes this, he's all alone

Something's crawling in the attic, I think I'm going manic / This shadow on the wall is not from me

As Bramblestar frantically calls and searches for his missing family, his shadow grows larger and larger in size. It no longer resembles him in any way, now looking like Ashfur's silhouette instead

One more shot before I panic / Oh, none of this is getting any clearer

Bramblestar continues to search for his mate and children, running headlong through the fog and tripping over tree roots that keep growing all around him. He grows more and more distressed the more he can't find them. He finally collapses to ground gasping for air, exhausted.

I hear you calling from the bedroom, I swear I'll come and get you / As soon as I remember how to breathe

As Bramblestar tries to get his bearings, he finally hears his family's terrified voices desperately calling for help. He sings the lines as he begins running again despite how visibly tired he is

There's no method to the madness / Where is my reflection in this mirror?

Bramblestar stumbles into a puddle and is horrified to notice that he now lacks a reflection. As he turns and runs away, Ashfur is seen reflected in the pond where Bramblestar's reflection should be, grinning maliciously at his retreating form

Frozen, I'm all alone when something calls me to a study / I hear in my head "third book on the left" / And I find matches and a locket just for me

Suddenly, Bramblestar hears a new voice in his ear that compels him to ignore his family's cries (shown by his eyes glazing over and his movements becoming robotic) and follows the sound to a hollowed out log. Inside the log are a large and thick dried branch, a piece of flint, and a small torn piece of spotted gray fur. Seeing the fur sends Bramblestar snapping out of the trance he was in as he recognizes exactly who the fur and scent belongs to

Frozen, I'm all alone when something calls me to a study / I hear in my head "third book on the left" / And I find matches and a locket just for me

A figure looms behind Bramblestar. He slowly turns to finally see Ashfur standing right behind him. He stares, frozen in a combination of horror, shock, and anger.

Something's crawling in the attic, I think I'm going manic / The shadow on the wall is closing in

The two toms square off, hissing and spitting at each other. Ashfur leaps at Bramblestar, presumably to make the first strike, but to Bramblestar's surprise the spirit disappears when the two make contact

Just when I begin to panic / Somehow I know the person in this locket

Bramblestar's body begins seizing and his eyes roll back in his head as foam dribbles from his mouth and blood comes out his nose. Bramblestar's eyes close, and when they open, they're Ashfur's eyes. He is now fully possessed by the wicked spirit

I hear you calling from the bedroom / But I don't care to find you / And I'm sure we'll never see outside again

Possessed!Bramblestar sings the above lines to his still trapped family members with a sadistic smirk on his face as they're all shown encased in thorny vines that are tightening painfully around them as they call desperately for help that isn't coming

There's a method to the madness / And I still got these matches in my pocket

Possessed!Bramblestar smiles as he walks back to the hollow log containing the branch and the flint. He grabs the branch with purpose, knowing what he has to do...

I don't recognize myself / 'Cause right now there is someone else / Telling me behind the shelf there is gasoline and / I don't feel like myself / I don't feel like myself / I don't feel a thing

Possessed!Bramblestar strikes the branch against the piece of flint and it ignites as his eyes sparkle with vicious glee. As he tosses the flaming branch onto the ground and the fire spreads, Ashfur's image flickers briefly over his (a repeat of the past fire he caused)

I don't recognize myself / 'Cause right now there is someone else / Telling me to pour it out over everything and / I don't feel like myself / I don't feel like myself / I don't feel a thing

The fire slowly engulfs Alderheart, Sparkpelt, Lionblaze, Jayfeather, and Squirrelflight. Squirrelflight is the final member to die, and she recognizes that Ashfur has possessed her mate and curses him as she dies. Possessed!Bramblestar is the last to be consumed by the fire, laughing and grinning as he sings the final line as he vanishes into the smoke and flames, glowing blue eyes being the last thing seen by the viewer

THE END

Post-Credits Scene:

When the group doesn't return to camp, a border patrol is sent out to search for them (the only cats mandatory are Cinderheart and Larksong for angst reasons. All other cats can be whoever you want). As they travel, show that there is no evidence of a fire having taken place (no burnt earth, no fallen trees, nothing). Also, all the scenery is normal, no longer warped. The patrol freezes once they stumble upon the tree in the center of the clearing that still has the claw marks spelling "Get Out" on the trunk, but not just because of the eerie message it bears. Spread out in front of the tree's base are the six charred bodies of the missing cats. Lots of horrified reactions and tears shed. As the camera pans away, Ashfur's spirit stands nearby with the spirits of Sparkpelt, Lionblaze, Bramblestar, Alderheart, and Jayfeather still encased in thorns beside him. He leads them away, the vines puppeting the unwilling spirits like marionettes as he takes them away to the Dark Forest with him. He gives one final wink to the camera as everything fades out.

[mrdreyferin-stain]

nothing to worry bout here

gods, they fucking have felt so shit. imm barelly able toype with these fuckers ofb arms. like,, fhe feeling in them. it hurts. its the last reminents of them and just. gods fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fu

shit, why couldnt they just be numb. ensas arms work, they sure fucking do, and im grateful as hell, but also gods does moving them hurt. youd think id be strong enough to handle it now, but nope. im just as "strong" as i was before. how the hell did i even get on that gods-damned ship. i found family by running from the one i had? fucking hell, how stupid is that. id say sorry, but who the fucks gonna listen. jayson is himself, so is that old lady (i cant judge age, i barely remember mine.), and i dont think i could face jaybird or ava without becoming a sopping mess.

words wont mean shit, and what the fuck can i do? i barely can handle my broken arms. i want to say sorry to elizabeth and chip, because they were there and shouldn't have been. i want to say sorry to finn because i took forever to get back to him. im sorry arlin ive let you stay lost still. sorry captain rose, you got the shit off the ferin familys boot, not the mate you looked for. look where we are now.

sorry to my new captains that you looked up to me ever. im not as good as i was before, and i wasnt ever great then. if i was, i bet we wouldn't have fallen in. i would have grabbed your hand and pulled you out.

gods why cant my arms be numb.

[latinapoetbts]

The Wolf Who Hated Humans - KTH & Y/N (TEASER - some Editing)

Summary: Y/N is one of the 9 Wolf Tribe Alphas and a badass in line to be the next Governess of the 9 Tribes. The World is divided into three Regional Powers: The Vampires, The Humans & The Wolves. Each Region has its main Governor as an ultimate leader and representation. Her world is a peace for now due to a peace pact. She is a spirited fighter and great leader yet loathes humans due to the traumatic history and memories she carries of her people. What happens when she finds her mate who happens to represent everything she hates. Labels: Smut, Angst, blood, violence, Non-Con, biting, vampires, AU- Fantasy, love triangles, unrequited love, Nam Joon & Y/N Smut, Jimin & Y/N making out

Their smell was always so putrid. I hated that we had to blend in with them. I hated how it felt as if I was the only one who hated them as much as I did. I carried all the rage of 100 generations even from the beginning of our kind. The pain and suffering, loss, grief and death. We were brought nearly to the brink of extinction had it not been for the fucking bloodsuckers who truly were just a hair above them. Yet, I am still grateful for them. We only teamed up to keep the Human population in check. 

I hated how weak they were even at their very core of existence, emotionally chaotic like a fucking child even as full-grown adults. How could they have nearly destroyed us all? Humans; are weak in every aspect, physical, emotional, and psychological yet, I had to give it to them, they were still here, alive, breathing, and thriving as weak as they were. I blame their existence on our peace treaty. As weak as they were, there were just enough humans in the population who were highly intelligent. It is how they nearly destroyed us. Their intelligence and the fact that both our kinds the wolf and the bloodsuckers lust for preying on the weak. The romanticization of our kind and their fucking obsession and drive to ravage and breed the weak. And some called it love until the humans nearly genocided their halflings. Yet it was the love between our two kingdoms heads that the peace treaty was formed. 

The bloodsuckers could feed off those who broke the law, and anyone who volunteered, could feed from animals and of course, there were mandatory blood donations. This kept the bloodsuckers at bay.

Our kind, the wolves could live on our lands, each of the 9 tribes ruled our perspective territories and hunted the prey we wanted without causing extinction. We were forbidden to hunt bloodsuckers or humans. 

Humans could live as they have for thousands of years, free to roam the lands that govern their own country.

Each of our kind is allowed to live under peace treaty law. No wolves or vampires could kill a human. No Human could kill a wolf or vampire unless self-defense and it must be proven as so. Lastly, breeding or mating outside your kind was forbidden. But fucking that was a different story. Humans loved to indulge themselves and our kind was disgustingly willing to fulfill their desires. But not me, bloodsuckers were ok and fun on occasion, but humans were. Never. I’d rather gut myself. 

That was until I met him. He was beautiful, gorgeous, sexy all in one. I had seen plenty of hot human men but he was different, way different. His scent was so fucking good-looking it drove my wolf nearly delirious. I remember when his scent first hit me. Fortunately, I was hanging out with a small group of very close friends. They were well-trusted with any of my most inanimate secrets and they were loyal. It was Kia’s 23rd birthday and we were celebrating with a night out of drinking and celebrating. Kia wanted to party at the triplex strip, a border party strip. The triplex was where the Human, Vampire, and Wolf countries touched. We were bar hopping and club hopping. We had just left a bar when we passed the dance club Oasis.

That's when the most delectable scent pleasantly assaulted my senses and immediately I craved more. I needed to know what this scent was, and who the scent belonged to before my wolf went mad. I felt my wolf was dragging me along as if I were on a leash and had no choice but to follow. I was angry that I was on the verge of losing control of my wolf; in essence, myself. I was no longer a hot-headed, immature, heat-driven teen wolf. I was a mature adult wolf the current leader of our pack and the future governess of our Tribe Nation. The humiliation and rage I felt as I was dragged against my will towards this scent that brought my wolf to delirium with want. Was this the call of my mate, I had heard the leader's descendant's tribe mate call was intense but this was shocking and unexpected. I was in panic, I did not want anyone to know who my mate was and I was not ready to be mated. 

“Y/N! Wait! Where are you going? HEY!….” I heard Kia call out to me. But I was driven forward. I did not want the group to know where I was going. I slipped into the club. The music was blaring. I had never been to this club because I despised its purpose. It was a dance club at face value but also a well-known place for humans who had a wolf or vampire fetish. This was a place where humans could pay for a lap dance or “other services” so they could get off on their fucking fantasies. This was also the spot for them to live out their fantasy of fucking our kind. I wanted to rip the owner's throat out for this undignified display of our people. And I wanted to punish my fellow wolves who participated whether they were part of my pack or not. 

I could hear Nam Joon now, “Just let it be, they're not being forced. Y/N these are wolves who want to be here. Let them have their fun”. I knew he was right and I always kept my true feelings and thoughts to a few of my close and trusted confidants, Nam Joon being one of them. Even though I carried generations of rage memories, it was every Wolves Governor's job to hold space for that rage of the pain and suffering of our ancestors at the hands of humans and harness it to be good leaders who would not harm our kind. But it was extremely difficult. The burden was often too great for me to carry but I knew I just had to. 

I pushed through the throngs of crowds following my wolf’s hunt for the owner of this intoxicating scent. I wondered who they would be, would they be from my pack or tribe or a neighboring tribe? Would they be someone I already knew? Knowing they were here at Club Oasis angered me that they would be here probably looking to fuck a human. How dare they. I felt a deep belly growl escape my throat, my wolf's wrath building merely at the thought of someone else touching the owner of this scent. Fuck, my wolf wanted them and there would be nothing standing in the way nothing to stop her, I was for the first time truly terrified. I was on the verge of losing all control, I knew I was close. I could feel myself salivating and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. There I found him pushing his way to the back. I couldn’t help but lick my lips as I closed in on him, my eyes were dilated and I could feel myself trembling with excitement. I lingered about a foot behind him, I was closing in on him. I didn't know what I would do when I cornered him because as of right now I was led by the lustful thoughts of my hungry wolf. Finally, our moment had arrived as I caught the door staying on his heels.

“Jackson, I'm buzzed as fuck, I told you I’m trying to be a good man…fu–ck”.

I cut him off in mid-sentence as I whirled him around pushing him up against the wall forcefully. Had I lost my fucking mind, I felt as if I was having an out-of-body experience, it was wrong all of it was wrong. What the fuck was I doing. 

[republicsecurity]

Imagined Communion: A Paramedic Remembrance Ceremony

Gathered on a hallowed ground, a congregation of red-clad figures stands united, their presence a testament to the living bridge between past and present.

The rhythmic beat of drums reverberates through the air, a heartbeat of remembrance that resonates across generations. The red flags flutter in the breeze, a sea of unity against the canvas of the sky. In this orchestrated theater of memory, paramedics of yore and the present converge in a shared narrative of service, sacrifice, and dedication.

The ceremony is not merely a ritual; it's an imagined communion that dissolves temporal boundaries. As the somber notes of a melody drift, faces etched with solemnity turn towards a towering monument adorned with names, dates, and stories. The names etched in stone transcend individuality, weaving a collective tale of resilience and valor.

Words uttered by a venerable figure, chosen to evoke the spirit of the community, reverberate through the crowd.

The assembled paramedics, young and old, stand as witnesses to this unfolding narrative.

The ceremony carries an inherent paradox – it is both remembrance and creation. It is a ritual that brings forth not just the past but the present, intertwining memories of those who came before with the aspirations of those who stand today. And as the ceremony reaches its crescendo, the sound of a single bell resonates, summoning the souls of the departed into the shared realm of remembrance.

Amid the flags, the speeches, and the whispers of the wind, the paramedics reaffirm their commitment. The words spoken, the wreaths laid, and the solemn silence are the threads that bind them into a living tapestry.

Unseen Communion: The Veiled Paramedic Ceremony

Beyond the gaze of civilian eyes, a second ceremony unfolds in the realm of the veiled. It is a ceremony that the uninitiated cannot behold.

The paramedics, a sea of figures, their faces half-veiled by helmets adorned with integrated HUD displays. These technological companions, normally serving as tools of heightened awareness, now channel something deeper. A special mode of the HUD, activated only for this hidden ceremony, becomes the conduit for a multimedia show that seems designed for each paramedic individually by an AI system.

The director and the AI weave a digital symphony tailored to every man present. As each paramedic gazes upon the visor, the show unfurls – a personal kaleidoscope of images, words, and emotions.

The multimedia show transcends the boundaries of the physical world, drawing from an intricate reservoir of data – personal experiences, surveillance footage, reports, recordings of past missions, shared histories, and the very essence of the Paramedic Corps.

The paramedics are enfolded in a spectacle that evokes their commitment, their valor, and the very essence of their being.

Among the paramedics I had the privilege of conversing with, there is a unanimous sentiment that this ritual is an experience deeply personal and profoundly touching.

One paramedic, whose eyes sparkled with emotions clearly visible even behind the faceplate of his helmet, shared that the multimedia show projected onto their visor during the ceremony felt like a journey through their own memories and aspirations. "It's as if the AI and the director know the very essence of who you are."

"Seeing the multimedia show tailored to my journey and then glancing around to see my comrades in the same space – it's an affirmation of the bond we share."

For many, this hidden ceremony is an intimate encounter with their own commitment and dedication.

"The multimedia show seems to pull from the threads of my life, there were recording from the Academy, from my time in the Youth Group, from my first mission and even from a recent sexual encounter with a mate in a sleeping cubicle," a paramedic confided.

As the hidden ceremony engaged the paramedics in a dance of introspection and unity, the civilian observers were immersed in a glimpse of the profession's exterior facade.

As the hidden ceremony concludes, the paramedics emerge with visors once again clear, their faces betraying no hint of the immersive experience they've undergone.

As the ceremony concluded, a seamless transition occurred on the screens, bringing the audience into the immediate present. The life camera feeds, recorded from the helmets of the paramedics themselves, took center stage. Now, the viewers were treated to an immersive first-person perspective, as if they were donning the red flightsuits and standing alongside these dedicated individuals.

The scene shifted to show paramedics participating in acts of reverence and commemoration – a quiet yet powerful extension of their commitment.

These recordings showcased the diversity of paramedic roles during these ceremonies – some engaged in precise movements, others standing in silent contemplation. Each scene, framed by the paramedic's visor, provided a unique window into the dedication that underpins their service.

With the paramedics' helmet-mounted cameras, the audience experienced the ceremonies through the eyes of those who lived them.

Careful and calculated Unveiled Paramedic Ceremony

In this poignant sequence, the scene transitioned once again, capturing the essence of paramedic remembrance ceremonies with an intimate lens. The life camera feeds, positioned as if through the eyes of the paramedics, revealed moments of profound connection to the act of remembrance.

Two red-gauntleted hands came into view, gently cradling a wreath. The delicate yet purposeful placement of the wreath underscored the significance of the gesture. The gloved hands, symbols of unwavering dedication, released the wreath onto a memorial with a reverence that transcended words. It was a silent testament to the lives touched and the sacrifices made in service to the greater good.

The camera then shifted to show a face behind a faceplate, framed by the helmet's visor. The visage, usually stern and focused, now revealed a different facet – one of quiet contemplation. A single tear traced a path down the faceplate, embodying the depth of emotions that these ceremonies stirred within. Behind the protective layers of the helmet, a human heart beat with empathy, reverence, and the weight of remembrance.

These glimpses into the personal and emotional aspects of the paramedic remembrance ceremonies captured the humanity beneath the armor. The life camera feeds allowed the audience to witness these small yet profound acts of honor, revealing the paramedics' shared commitment to never forgetting those they had lost.

The juxtaposition of gloved hands and tear-streaked faceplates conveyed a spectrum of emotions – from the tangible action of laying a wreath to the quiet vulnerability of acknowledging loss.

Two Audiences and their Veils

In a world where symbolism is both tool and performance, the paramedic remembrance ceremony emerges as a choreographed spectacle with dual purpose. A symphony of organized precision, it serves as a harmonious duet for two distinct audiences: the public and the paramedics themselves.

For the civilian observer, a polished facade is presented – a picturesque panorama of paramedic life interwoven with noble deeds and solemn reflections. The generic recordings that play out before their eyes offer a scripted tale, complete with a narrative arc of service and sacrifice.

Within the private sanctum of the paramedic's visored world, a starkly different experience takes root. The helmets, not merely protective gear, become a portal to a multisensory symposium of remembrance. An intimate dance of multimedia projected upon their HUD displays, meticulously personalized for each paramedic, unfolds a tapestry of individual journeys through loss, camaraderie, and service.

In the end, the paramedic remembrance ceremony remains a masterclass in the art of collective manipulation – a spectacle that ingeniously bridges the divide between public gaze and personal experience.

[juniperplease]

The guys next door are having a party, it's 12am (midnight) now and for the past hour they've played ONLY 'billie jean'.

On repeat I have had the faint beat of the drums of this song, and "the kid is not my son" "billy jean is not my lover" "I am the one" no other lyrics can be heard.

I'm not even sure at this point there is other lyrics.

This, alongside drunk Australian murmers and the incoherent shouting.

"ARIAAAA" "go awaayuy, imm pissibv ur making it werid" "AY AY NAH NAHHH" "don't look at me like that" "Iimm nott, IM NOOOOTTT" "AY MATE U GOT ME VAP?!" along with other words.

"THE KID IS NOT MY SON" >:((((

[dontyouwanttobedivines]

oh shit. well got high started by putting my fingers in my mouth and choking myself till i needed to get on here, become insatiably horny then only to realize i’m actually on my period. well. fuck me mate. imm too high to deal with the logistics of this my entire body just started sinking into my bed sines i weigh 10000 pounds apparently this is such a funny feeling wow okay

[bllsbailey]

Donald Trump to Newsmax: Preparing For Debate 'My Entire Life'

Donald Trump told Newsmax on Tuesday night he doesn't need to lock himself in a room with advisers to prepare for Thursday night's huge debate with President Joe Biden, the first presidential debate this election cycle and the earliest in U.S. history.

"I've been preparing for it for my whole life, if you want to know the truth," Trump told "Prime News" and guest host Corey Lewandowski. "And I'm not sure you can lock yourself in a room for two weeks, or one week, or two days, and really learn what you have to know.

"I've been through it."

This will be Trump's sixth presidential debate, including the three he had with Hillary Clinton in 2016 and two with Biden in 2020, and not counting the numerous debates he had during the Republican primary season each year. CNN will host the debate in Atlanta, and it will be simulcast on Newsmax.

"I know the subject [matter]," Trump said. "Now, you know, they may get cute because it's obviously at CNN, and I've called it fake news for a long time. We'll see how they do it. They have a lot at stake to be fair. I think they have to be fair. But we'll see how we do. I think we'll do very well. We've done well in the past, and I think we'll do very well. I know the subject matter."

Biden has holed himself up in Camp David this week in preparation for the debate. There have been reports Biden, who has shown signs of cognitive decline, has been trying to stand for 90 minutes as part of his prep.

"If I have to practice standing, we have ourselves a big problem now," Trump said. "I had heard that too, he's practicing how to stand or something standing. And now, look, let's see what happens. I hope everybody does well. I hope we all come out as a nation, but our nation is in trouble; we've never been in trouble like this. We've never been so embarrassed as this. And we have to change presidents.

"He's the worst president in history. … What they've done and what they've unleashed, the Democrats, Biden, whoever's running the government for him, because I don't think he's running it, but whoever's running government, what they've done to this country will never be forgiven."

Earlier Tuesday, New York Judge Juan Merchan partially lifted a gag order against Trump after he had been convicted of 34 felony counts for falsifying business records to cover a payment made by disgraced former attorney Michael Cohen to Stormy Daniels. Trump can now speak about witnesses and jurors, but others involved in the case are shielded until his sentencing July 11.

"Partial is very unfair because there are things we have to say, especially in my case," Trump said. "I'm going into a debate, and I'm going to have to talk about a gag order. What does partial mean?

"It's not fair. We've had a gag order long after the trial [ended]. The trial was ridiculous. Every legal scholar said it should have never been brought. The whole thing is ridiculous, and now they lift just a piece of the gag order, not all of it. The gag order has to be lifted in its entirety."

Trump also touched on several other subjects:

Whether independent presidential candidate Robert F. Kennedy Jr. should be on the stage for the next scheduled debate Sept. 10: "I'd like him to. I wouldn't mind. I don't think he has the polling numbers to get there. He's a very liberal guy, and conservatives have to understand how liberal he is; he's as liberal as you get. But I don't think he's got the numbers to do it. … He's doing very poorly, actually, and seems to be fading fast."

On his pick for a running mate, with Ohio Sen. J.D. Vance and North Dakota Gov. Doug Burgum being the leading contenders: "I could take any one of these people. They're great. We have a great bench. And even beyond that we have a great bench. We'll make a decision fairly soon and I think people will be very happy with this decision."

On how quickly he can get the immigration crisis under control should he get elected in November: "Immediately. And [Biden] could too, all he has to do is close the borders. I did it. I had no problem with that. Now the funding was hard. But I took it out of the military. I said this is an invasion. So, I got the wall built with funds from the military. I said, literally, this is an invasion of our country, which is what it is."

On the importance of U.S. leadership and respect among other nations: "Our allies no longer respect us. Our enemies no longer fear us. It is a sharp turn of events from where we were just three short years ago. … We have the worst president in history. We're not respected anywhere in the world anymore because of this leadership. We have the worst president in history. Once we're respected, we'll be able to do anything we want."

© 2024 Newsmax. All rights reserved.

[fictive-explosion]

yeah, conspiracy theories make me feel like im not real? (idk haven't really figured out what it is yet) so i get what your saying mate and yeah i understand what you mean by its hard to be around them sometimes because its the same with my grandparents

Mhhm… imm deffintley nojt gettinv epoy…<-lyinh

[antique-forvalaka]

the (probably not) ultimate KinnPorsche alignment chart

Bonus:

Look ma, yet another Insane Meta Ma.fia Collaboration!

My fellow IMM Mates are: @luckydragon10​, @fractured-ice​, @moerusai​

xxxxxxxxxxx

more kp memes:  1 // ... // 3 // 4 ​

[luckydragon10]

How Porsche disarmed Big...

...and almost got away with it.

Some great discourse got me revved up about the fight choreography so far in KinnPorsche, so guess what? META TIME.

We know Porsche is a Taekwondo champion, though from what has been shown so far, he's generally NOT leading with his Taekwondo skills but rather with his street fighting skills. I say this as someone who has practiced Taekwondo. It's there, and I can see it in certain moments, but it's like it's buried in boxing and brawling moves.

I saw one especially big exception. Or should I say, exception for Big? (Haha. Get it?)

Credit and thank you to @moerusai for those sweet gif skills!

This is gorgeous. Just gorgeous. I've gushed to my KP friends about this, and now I'll just gush to Tumblr at large.

It's basically Hapkido, a self-defense art. The focus is on neutralization through a series of short, skillful movements. It is not offensive. It's a Korean martial art, like Taekwondo. I learned a set of Hapkido movements right along with Taekwondo when I practiced, and it would be completely normal for Porsche to also have learned as part of his practice.

So, what the heck just happened?

1. Block

Porsche first blocks with his left hand and grabs Big's wrist. Grabbing the wrist here is essential rather than just knocking it out of the way. None of the rest of his actions would have worked if he'd simply knocked the hand away.

2. Redirect Opponent

Think Porsche tried to punch Big here? Nope, not in the slightest.

See how far off the punch is? That's not because the actors were playing it safe... that's because Porsche isn't trying to hit Big. Porsche is separating his opponent from his weapon. While punching, Porsche maintains control over Big's right wrist.

Big is now on the defensive, and (critically) Porsche is interfering with Big's line of sight to his own weapon.

3. Step In

Porsche steps inside Big's guard, curling Big's right arm around himself.

Look at Porsche's eyes. What's he looking at? THE GUN. His focus is on the gun. Good job, Porsche, A+.

4. Disarm

Looking a bit risky here to me (if Big still had his finger on the trigger, this could be Bad), but fortunately Porsche already has almost complete control of the gun as well as leverage to pry it away (his left and right hands in a great position for prying), and Big has no line of sight to what's happening with the weapon.

Note that Porsche's right hand grabs the barrel of the gun from above. This would allow him to rotate the gun upwards, putting pressure along the weakest gripping fingers first (pinky and ring fingers) if Big still had a grip, which he doesn't.

Thus, Porsche does some thievery. Good job again, Porsche!

5. Escape

Porsche breaks away. Big is annoyed to say the least.

6. Where are you kicking, Big?

O.O!

7. Surrender

It was a good run for 3 whole seconds, Porsche, but ultimately you're still screwed. Big has a second gun and lots of backup, and not even you can disarm numerous men from a prone position.

~~~

In conclusion, I really fucking love the fight choreography so far. I would love to see Porsche evolve over the course of the season and maybe see more of his Taekwondo start to shine through the brawler moves.

(If you like this KP meta, check out my breakdowns for Lines of Power.)

[story-told]

The Devil's Contract

Or: Porsche's brush with and buildup to power

[Kinn] [Korn] [Vegas]

Porsche, in my not-so-humble opinion, is the most interesting case study on the interplay on both, the truly empowering as well as the weakening aspects of power and influence.

How many of us among the Kinnporsche fandom have watched Porsche's story unfold and felt a sense of kinship? We've felt the pain and fear associated with debt, we've winced with empathy at the humiliation of a minimum wage employee whose boss went out of their way to punish or humiliate, most of us have felt that pinching lack of safety and the ever-present uncertainty. And that's the point. Porsche is us. In Porsche, there is a reflection of the Rousseauian Noble Savage being crushed under the weight of the glittering elite (Mirrors, anyone?).

Everything about him is supposed to make us relate to him. His scuffed sneakers, in particular are a nice touch (idek, man- political art experts have a weird Thing about boots and footwear), not to mention his well-loved clothing.

His way of addressing people around him is also indicative of a lack of true power in his social circles, because he either uses the lower register (gu/mueng) or sometimes drops the polite particle (khrub) entirely. Why? Because everybody around is just as much a slave to the powers that be as him. As an Asian who belongs to the lower middle class myself (which, by the way, western and Asian Middle classes are so different it blows my mind), I can guarantee you that I rarely use the higher register in my native language unless I'm talking to somebody who is explicitly labelled an authority figure. Also interesting is his missing parental figures, who (completely unwittingly, I'm sure) forego handing him the power in favour of his uncle, while still dumping a metric fuckton of ouchies on his very young shoulders- a recurring motif in the Rags To Riches storylines (see: Aladdin, A Cinderella Story).

Now look at the man properly. Notice how he's always at the business end of some representation of moral bankruptcy? Parentification? Check. Loan sharks and insurmountable debt? Check. Minimum wage jobs? Check. Commodification? Check. Betrayal from those who are supposed to bring stability and a guiding force to his life? Check. Victim to circumstance? Check, check and check. Pre-mafia era Porsche's life is a reel-life manifestation of the State of Nature, where there is no law, no goodness- only "Brutish force and suspicion" (The Leviathan- Hobbes. Watch out for this one, lads; it's going to make a guest appearance in another post). He has nobody to rely on, he's only working to get himself and his brother (his uncle can fucking choke on some dirty gym shorts) through life, heck, he has all of two friends who know his reality (Mirror, mirror on the wall- see: Kinn and his besties).

But, if I'm writing this, then something obviously changes; Porsche begins amassing some power, somewhere. So what gives?

Let me (re)introduce you to the social contract theory. Here, the masses sign away their limitless freedoms in exchange for order and protection. In Kinnporsche, Porsche signs away his life so that his brother's is stable, so that he's looked after (because let's face it, the raw chaos of the State of Nature would eat my sweetheart Porschay whole). Effectively, he's bartered away his freedom, his individuality, even his life- and in exchange, the Theerapanyakuls give him money, protection, direction and order. Sound like a raw deal? Well that's because it is! But that's the deal we're all party to, simply by virtue of being born into a State-governed society; and that's the deal Porsche knows he has no choice but to make.

But. And that's a big but. Porsche is potentially more powerful than everyone save Kinn and Korn. Why?

Personal Autonomy: Because of the nature of the contract, he has agreed to accept the Mafia fam as the ruling force of his own volition. He could not be forced to join the bodyguard squad, he had to choose to be there. This is important for two reasons. One, not even Kinn has the kind of autonomy to make his own choices free of external influence. Two, if Porsche stops being agreeable(?) and withdraws from the contract, the Theerapanyakuls stand to lose their power, not in the least because of the perceived lack of authority over their own employees (revolution theory by Hobbes, anyone?). Porsche holds sway over both, Kinn and Tankhun, he knows their personal weaknesses and routines. That is power over them. That is power over the heir and the oldest.

His own Charm and Charisma: Right from the first episode, we see that Porsche finds it easy to make friends. All he needs to do is flash his little smile and people just flock to him. This means that, be it the staff at Yok's bar or (a few of) the bodyguards at the Theerapanyakul mansion, he draws people to him just because he is who he is. And personal allegiance is always more stable than allegiance born out of the influence of authority.

His "uncorruptability": Thus far, Porsche has only made one decision out of a want for money- becoming Kinn's bodyguard. But otherwise, he isn't easily impressed. Flashy cash? Keep it to yourself. Intimidation? Up yours. Power? In his world, useless. And so, as far as the mafia world goes, Porsche is unpredictable, immovable- that makes for fear, which inturn gives him more power.

And finally, what makes him just as powerful as Kinn is (drum roll, please) Kinn himself.

This is Kinn marking Porsche with personal favour. Frequently, with impunity- regardless of the stupid shit Porsche can bring upon himself. From the very beginning, Kinn lets Porsche address him pretty rudely, entirely free of consequence. He shows Porsche the cards he's been playing so close to his chest all this time. He seeks Porsche out, by himself, without his bodyguards in tow. He is freefalling into love with Porsche. He trusts Porsche.

He's made Porsche the Chosen One. His queen, his vizier, his consigliere, his confidante. That, my dear friends is power at it's purest. When it comes to you of its own will.

In conclusion, Porsche is Rousseau's Noble Savage. He suffers, he fights and he gets by on his own strength. He's his own person, willingly choosing to make the elite powerful. But what giveth can taketh away. He gave the Theerapanyakul household power over him, but he can tear their empire down just by withdrawing his favour. Porsche, in essence, is power.