#oh almost forget about posting some track today

[billsbabydoll]

“𝒸𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒾𝓃 ℴ𝓃 𝓂𝓎 𝒷𝒿 𝓁𝒾𝓅𝓈.”

contains:SMUT<3

summary:while on my walk home, a very familiar cadillac pulls up beside me.rolling down the window calling out for me, my ex-boyfriend convinces me into his car for a quick “chat”.

WARNINGS:softdom!tom, sub!reader, light nipple play, pet-names, praising, blowjob, throat-fucking, make-out session, cat-calling, quickie, dry-humping, ex-sex.

notes:guys please excuse my last post im ovulating and i got horny in the middle of the night :3

ugh today has been such a long and stressful day at work, finally im making my way back home, with music blasting in my ipod head-phones as i take in my surroundings, the orange sky and the sound of the city.

i was about 5-ish blocks away from my apartment before i randomly get the feeling of someone watching me and i was correct, i slowly turn my head over to the side of the road taking a head-phone out of my ear and of course i see that stupid, ugly, pathetic cadillac I knew so annoyingly well and i instantly knew very well who eyes were watching me inside.

to no surprise he rolls the window down and stops the car, our eyes meet for the first time in 4 months.

“hii gorgeous, what are you doing baby?”he chuckles with that smug smile that i once absolutely adored, now only brutally hated.

i scoffed disgusted at his flirting, i decided to continue walking, putting my head-phone back in my ear.over my loud music i still managed hear his car driving slowly beside me and his long string of cat-calls.

“cmon doll, i’ll give you a ride!”

“schatzi, i know you hear me!”

“cmere, baby!”

“whats a pretty girl like you doing walking alone, it’s getting dark out y’know!”

i mean it was pushing 6:30 and the sun was already beginning to set, and i most definitely didn’t wanna walk the rest of 5 blocks i had left on top of the 10 i already had walked.i sighed stopping right in my tracks taking my head-phones out of my ears and placing them in my tote-bag with my ipod, before turning fully to the vehicle, signaling for him to unlock the door.

he smirked ignorantly, the door quickly unlocking with a switch of a button allowing me inside.i settle in the passenger’s seat, refusing to make eye-contact with him.

“how you been, i haven’t seen you since-well you know..”he questioned trying to make conversation as he began to drive again, his tone now more serious and gentle, taking note of my annoyed face and my refusal to meet his eyes.

“ive been okay just been busy with work, and you tom?” i replied obviously not interested in making small talk, especially with someone who dumped me.

“thats good, uh ive just been busy too with touring and promoting the new album, been thinkin’ about you a lot lately though schatz.”

“oh yeahh righttt.”i chuckle sarcastically, i know he had hundreds of girls throwing themselves at him everyday and night, heck they were even while we were together, there was absolutely no way he being honest.

“im serious, sometimes i ask myself why i let you go and, i mean really who would forget such a pretty girl like you hm?”he teased looking over to me, placing a hand on my thigh before looking back to the road ahead.

my heart begins to pump and race at the sudden contact of his large hand rubbing and softly gripping on my flesh, i could almost hear my heartbeat ringing in my ears.

i know i know what your thinking, and i was really struggling trying to maintain some sort of strength, i mean the guy dumped me!i also know hes just sweet-talking me like he always did but with someone so charming and handsome as THE tom kaulitz, it was like handing a child a huge lollipop and asking them not to eat it, absolutely impossible.

we sit in silence for another few minutes, still he continues to caress my thigh before he looks over to me again searching in my face for any sign of uncertainty or discomfort , to which he only finds willingness and desire.he nods, then proceeds to pull into an empty, quiet, hidden alleyway, parking the car before shutting off the ignition.

i waste no second more to quickly climb over to tom, straddling his lap my thighs resting on the sides of his own, capturing his lips into a hungry kiss.he kisses back immediately toms hands finding their way effortlessly to my hips, helping me grind my clothed cunt against his urging length, creating a delicious friction.

we continue passionately making-out, our tongues swirling and intertwining perfectly into one another.

as hes savoring the sweet taste of my lips, he removes his hands away from hips now using his left hand to lift up my skirt squeezing and slapping my delicate skin, his right hand finding its way inside my shirt, the tips of his fingers now rubbing fast circles on the buds of my tender breasts.

i moan lightly into his mouth, my eyes shutting as i take in the amazing sensation, my teeth biting down softly on his wet lips, my hips bucking recklessly against his seeking any further friction.

he pulls away from the kiss moaning and groaning with me, his cock begging to be released right at that instant.

“steig hinten ein, engel (get in the back, angel).”

i immediately comply, hopping off of his lap and climbing into the back seat, he follows shortly behind sitting down before going back to meeting his lips with mine.

he takes my hand in his and places it upon his groin, helping me begin to palm him through his baggy jeans, he groans into my mouth, his eye-brows furrowing together.

i take the lead now and pull away from his lips, looking into his eyes then looking down to his lap, i then lean over and quickly unbuckle his belt pulling his jeans down enough for his hardened length to be visible in his blue checkered boxers, begging to be pleased.i slip my hand in his underwear and pull his cock out, it swings out hitting his stomach before bouncing back up.

“your killing me here, c-cmon baby..”he whines impatiently.

i softly chuckle before i lowered my head down, my lips now not even an inch away from his leaky tip.i teasingly lick a few rings around his tip and lick up and down the sides of his shaft before i slowly take his length into my mouth.he scoots up and relaxes his legs as he makes a make-shift pony tail out of my loose hair.i begin to glide up and and down his cock, his tip once in a while kissing the back of throat.

“ohh f-fuckk keep sucking it that mmh-prinzessin (princess).”he praises, his head tilting backwards and hitting the headrest of the seat, his grip on hair becoming tighter.

i keep up a steady, quick, consistent pace throughout, using my left hand to stroke the extra inches i couldn’t fit inside my mouth, i moan as i suck him off, sending high vibrations straight through his cock.

hes a completely groaning and whining mess, gripping my hair with one hand gripping the seat with the other.

“look ughh-into my eyes..”

“g-god i missed your fucking lips on my mmh-dick so much, doll.”

my watery eyes quickly looked up into his maintaining long eye-contact before looking back down.

he bucks his hips into my mouth seeking further relief, his orgasm coming in any moment now.his mouth hanging open mumbling desperate swears from his lips.he then grabs the sides of face with both of his hands and starts harshly fucking his cock into my throat.

i whimper as his tip rapidly stabs into the back of throat, my hands squeezing the leather of the seats, my eyes now crying from the brutality.

“f-fuck fuck im gonna cum!”

he announced before taking his length quickly out of my mouth and placing it on my blood-like-red lips.he pumps his length urgently, squeezing his eyes shut and with a primal grunt soon busts a fat load on my lips, covering my lips with his cum like lipgloss.

i lick the salty white substance from my lips, looking deeply into his eyes as i swallow, before an idea pops into my head.

“wanna finish this at my place, babe?”

“fuck yeah.”

THE END

[sugar-plum-writer]

Dark Glamour

Paring: Sukuna x Fem!reader Tags: Slight! mention of violence; Fem!reader; Sukuna!imagines; will be 18+ as more chapters come; slow!burn, [I want to have a good build up!]; Modern AU; Mafia!AU

A chapter by chapter series, It will be a bit long maybe 10 chapters. So~ enjoy~

[If you all like it, please heart and reblog the post! to know you want to read more~ and follow for chapter updates! or leave a comment to tag you when I put out new chapters~ I will do my best to roll out UPDATES ASAP!]

CHAPTER - 1

The evaporated city from the map stood deary, with only its rubbles remaining, broken concrete foundation- cracks gracing it with iron rods threatening to crash underneath the pressure.

Shockwaves of the fight remained wherever your eyes could fall upon, swirling winds carrying fear and the scent of blood fluttering around you. Brains oozing out- crying to you about the injustice and pain inflicted on them, bones crushed to dust blowing past your face as a reminder of what you weren't able to stop

The grey sky looked down nihilistically as if used to death and destruction, not a ray of sun graced the Earth and covered itself with clouds as if not wanting to see this nightmarish Earth, crimson ink swirled beneath the watery rivers and lakes with the Earth trapping the dead forever in it's soil.

"Shit. Oh shit. things were not supposed to be like this" you muttered as your heels clacked against the ground, in a hurry all you wore was your bathrobe around you.

You left for just some minutes and the next thing you know your assistant slams the doors of your bathroom open screaming in horror as blood trickled down his face

"Miss Y/N! Boss has started a massacre!"

"What!? How!?-" Adrenaline coursed through your veins spilling into your guts

"I just left him for 2 minutes to take a shower!?"

"Miss-"

"Forget it-" Stepping out from the tub water droplets glistened on your skin dripping from your fingertips

"For now focus on saving as many civilians as possible! use all our resources!" screaming you wore the red stilettos you had removed- almost tripping in a hurry donning your bathrobe

"I will find him!"

"But-"

"Just do as I say if you don't-", glaring at him, "want to die"

Shit this was the biggest mess of your life

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

You had met Sukuna on one fine night as you walked home from work drunk. Feet bruised from walking in heels the whole day, it did not help your boss had to have a drinking party today making everyone drunk. Somehow you managed to escape halfway through and saved your sobbing liver.

"Malevolent Shrine" a deep voice echoed

Raising your head the next thing you knew- you were standing on ink-like black waters, blood red sky, and a shrine- no it could not even be called a shrine- skulls of dead adorned it

"WHAT THE FUCK!?"

"Bow"

Your eyes met his, and looking into those red eyes felt as if- you were looking into the eyes of a demon; a monster so terrifying your legs gave out

"Who-Who are you!? what do you want!"

"Me?", amused he looked at you "I am Ryomen Sukuna- The King Of Curses" smirking he gazed down upon you

"Be honored, your screams tonight will grace me" Stepping down in a flash he was in front of you

Fear. Horrible gut-wrenching Fear consumed your heart eating away through the valves.

"Please…don't kill me! Please! I beg you!" sobbing you kneeled on the ground as tears spilled from your eyes

"I have not even gotten married yet! I am too young!.." your mouth ran by itself like a Ferrari on a race track of Formula One, spilling out essay after essay

"I have not even-"

"Shut up brat, how long is your list of things you need to do? I will kill you if you don't shut up"

"No! No! No! I will shut up!" clasping your hands over your lips you looked at him but your mouth just had to continue, "But how can I not!? There are so many things to do in this world!"

"I said shut up" giving you a death glare he grabbed your jaw

"As for things to do, I doubt your modern world could amuse me"

"Wh-? How old are you?" eyes widening you looked at him

"1000+ years old, why?" confused he looked at you

"What….? And you still have that style?" raising an eyebrow you looked him up and down

"I don't mean to be offensive, but seriously…?"

"Why should I care how I look?" throwing you to the ground he rolled his eyes

"Ouch!", hissing in pain you looked at him, "Because, see for example if you want to recruit people into your group, shouldn't you look good? Looking hot while doing it?"

"What-? What psychology is this?"

"Yeah duh" Putting your arm around his shoulder you looked at him

"You are wasting that face plus knowing about modern technology will help will it not? For example with this phone-" Opening your phone you handed it to him, "You can text, call, etc, isn't it so much better?"

He scrolled a bit as you continued your explanation about modern technologies, the power of money, and so on. Showing him all kinds of things on your phone, all kinds of luxuries, working in the sales department sure came in handy today.

"Hmmm…", intrigued he listened and filtered through the bullshit that came from your mouth. Though he was 1000+ years old he sure was extremely terrifyingly intelligent, the way he filtered through the information grasping the core information shocked even you.

"Fine" tossing the phone to you, "You seem to know a lot of how things work around here" Looking into your soul chillingly, "Work for me, and let's do this so-called style change"

And like that soon you were out, alone on the streets, the realization hit you like a nuclear bomb

FUCK

Biting your lips you walked groaning, sure in a moment of panic your brain switched a circuit and bullshitted its way out. Somehow convincing The King of Curses to go shopping with you. You deserve a PR and Sales award for what you have just done. Sure you were good at what you did, turning thousands of yen product into millions but today, you saved your neck.

With a sharp sigh, you unlocked the door of your apartment.

"This is crazy AHHHHH!" screaming you buried your face in the pillow trying to convince yourself it was a dream

But it was not

Proof?

Right now you are standing in a short black sweetheart body con dress, high stilettos, red lipstick, hair all curled up scrolling through your phone, normally when you dress up many creeps give you stares but today nobody; why?

Sukuna stood beside you.

Link to masterlist!

[sisssygirl]

New Teacher - Dr Reid

A/N-this is my first time posting on here!! i usually posted on wattpad but I’ve stopped and i’ve decided to start writing on here!!(sorry for spelling mistakes)

Summary - You were 18 and in your last year at college. As the year came to an end you started to lack motivation and your grades started to drop. Today was a different. You had a new teacher who seemed to be a lot more eager than your last one..

Warnings - Dom reid / Smut / Age gap / Penetration / Pet names / Sir / Non contraception (be safe) / Fingering / Thigh riding

When you first started college nearly two years ago you loved it. New experience ,new subjects ,the lot. But as your coming close to the end of the final year things are starting to drag. Class is more boring and stress was increasing.

Especially criminology. Although you loved the subject your lecturer was the worst. He was that type of man to use his authority to make you feel as small as an ant but also the type to let his hands linger on you for a little too long.

Today was different though. You walked into the class ,dragging your heals anticipating a snarky comment directed towards you about the vest top you’re wearing showing your shoulders too much. But nothing. You shrugged and sat at your desk flinging your bag next to it. It was only you and around 2-3 clusters of people before a few more entered. It was usually pretty empty during first period as many people chose to not show.

Reaching down to grab your textbook before stopping in your tracks as you peer up to see a young man leaning back on the chair situated at the front of the class. ‘surly not’ you thought. You stared a little longer purely breath taken as he pushed his glasses up his long nose. His hair naturally curled around and behind his ears perfectly framing his jawline. You felt the salvia pool in your mouth before snapping out of your trance only to notice his eyes locked on yours. He expressed a small sweet smile before standing and writing ‘Dr Reid’ in big bold letters across the board. The class quietened down and took their seats ,still in awe. “So i’m Dr Reid. I’ll be filling in for your past lecturer who we had to… let go.” you’re thighs squeezed tight studying the slight rasp to his voice and the way his dark dress shirt hugged his broad yet skinny shoulders. You were again shaken from your trance and he let out a clap that ricocheted across the wall. He traveled back to his desk where he started his presentation about behavioural analysis.

Hours felt like minutes in his presence. You found it hard to focus on the wise words that left his mouth while your focus was fully on how his mouth moved. Your chin rested on your palm as your pen poked and prodded your bottom lip. Before you knew it class was over. A sigh of devastation left your lips as you began to pack up your stuff. You grabbed your bag and slung it over your shoulder before swiftly standing and spinning towards the door.

“Woah” you jumped back knocking into the corner of your desk nearly falling to the floor.

“Oh i’m so sorry. i didn’t mean to startle you. It’s y/n right?” he said calm but almost startled himself.

“I- uh yeah. it’s okay. really” you replied forgetting how to speak as you peered down at his veiny hand wrapped around your wrist to stop you falling.

“I’ve been looking through your paper on the social disorganisation theory. and it really caught my interest” He explained “I wanted to see if we could explore some of your ideas together” He added his smile turning into a slight smirk he failed to conceal. He walked back over to his desk sitting back into his chair before pulling out your paper and clearing his throat.

“this question specifically” he pointed before looking back into your eyes. You bent down staring at the page only to see a short non-detailed paragraph. You gulped and looked back at him.

“I uh. I’m not sure” you glared down at your feet before seeing him turn the page to the next question with the same amount of effort put into it.

“Take a seat i want to look at the properly with you” you commanded. You scanned the area quick before he leant back in his chair and patted his thigh quickly. You were taken back, contemplating whether this was just some sort of joke before dropping your bag and placing your legs either side of his thigh. You felt his eye burn into the back of your body as he scanned from the top of your head down to where you ass sat next to his crotch. He leaned forward pressing his chest onto your shoulder blade before scanning the text in front of him.

“This really isn’t great ,y/n.” He said slightly turning his head until you could feel his breath in your neck. You hummed in response unsure of what to say as all your thoughts were consisted of the feeling of his hand slowly reaching round your waist to rest on your stomach holding you in place.

“what happened sweetheart. I saw your previous papers. they are all so good” Again you hummed and shrugged still unable to form enough words to answer.

“Is there anything i can do to help. At this rate i don’t see you passing at the end of the year.” He slightly bounced his leg making you shift on the spot landing you right on your heat. You gasped sharp. You could sense the smile creeping on his face knowing he had you right where he wanted you.

“Would you be open for some extra credit, sweetheart?” You nodded your head almost urgently in response. “you gotta use your words darlin’, i can tell that’s something we definitely need to work on” His lips centimetres ways from your neck causing shivers down your spine.

“Yes ,sir” You finally replied biting your lip as he brushed the tip of your nose down the side of his neck causing you hips to buck at the sudden sensation causing a wave of pleasure to flow through your body. When he reached down to your collar bone. he planted small gentle kisses down and back up to your neck where he sucked and grazed his teeth causing you to let out a whimper. You unconsciously started to grind forward and back in his thigh. You threw your head back resting it on his shoulder as he continued to trail dark purple marks around your throat. His hand began to wonder lower towards the button of your jeans. He lingered for a moment before you nod your head in response already knowing what he was asking. he slid his hand lower gracing the lace of your panties before proceeding lower. His slender fingers danced on the wet patch that seeped through the thin fabric before sliding under. His finger slipped between your hold gathering your slick before returning to gently circle around your aching clit.

“Someone’s wet.” he whispered in your ear only making the wetness worse. you began rocking your hips against his hand while he slowly pushed and finger into your entrance. You bit your lip trying to conceal any embarrassing sounds from leaving your mouth.

Without warning he shoved you from behind causing you to collapse forward onto the cold wooden desk. He wrapped his slender fingers around your waist band before yanking them toward your ankles leaving you in your pink panties that he was just exploring.

“May i?” he asked trailing his finger on the hem on your garments almost too polite for the current situation.

“Please sir” you whined out turning your head to see that his tie had been loosened and the top few buttons of his shirt had been undone exposing his sharp collar bone. He slid down your panties and slid them into his back pocket. You felt so vulnerable yet willing at the same time nearly pleading for his next move. You watched as he unzipped his trousers and released his cock nearly hitting his stomach. He bent down resting his head next to your head before kissing you passionately. Like glue to stuck to him. Never wanted to let go. You felt him prod and poke and your entrance before grasping it and gliding past your clit. You whined against his lips almost pleading him to stop teasing you. and with that he slowly slid it making you gasp and grip the edge of the desk. This didn’t stop his teasing. He kept at the agonisingly slow pace before standing back up to walk as he slid deep into you. You whined again the frustration growing as your body begged for pleasure. He laughed and bent down to your ear. “Tell me how much you want it”

You gulped. embarrassed at the thought of begging but that was soon flushed away as Dr Reid planted a slap against your ass cheek.

“Please sir. i’ll do anything. just please fuck me” And with that he pulled back and started thrusting at an inhumanly pace. He hands grasped your hips for dear life pulling you two together as you collided. The room echoed with moans and slapping definitely being heard from outside. He groaned and swing his head back closing his eyes tight. You were nearing your edge already as you clenched around him making him grit his teeth.

Suddenly he gripped under your thigh and lifted it so it was propped on the edge of the desk giving him a new unholy angle. You screamed as he hit your g-spot with every thrust. He lunged forward grasping a lock of you hair before pulling it making you lean against his chest.

“Come on princess. i know you can do it. Cum for me” That was enough to send you flying over the edge. constricting around his cock sending him into his climax and you fell back onto the desk. You were both left still and panting realising what has just happened. Reid grabbed some tissues from the corner of his desk before pulling out and watching his seed spill from your hole. He wiped it up before pulling your jeans back round your body and buttoning up his trousers. You spun around sitting on the edge of his desk in shock. Placing himself between your legs before attack your lips once more.

“I’d like to see you again y/n” He said between kisses

“here?” you replied

“No not here sweetheart. On date” Reid chuckled “i mean here too”

[siberian-xanadu]

HAPPY 71ST BIRTHDAY TO GEDDY LEE!!!!!!

OH, and it's the 50th anniversary of Neil Peart joining Rush!!!!!

As with every year on their birthdays, I am doing my Rushathon, in which I attempt to listen to every single Rush album in chronological order from the debut to Clockwork Angels, and this year, in honor of this occasion, I will be live blogging the most formative albums of their career (imo)!!!! This will probably be the debut, Fly By Night, 2112, A Farewell to Kings/Hemispheres (probably in one post), Moving Pictures, Power Windows, Counterparts, Vapor Trails, and Clockwork Angels. Currently, I have started on the debut, and I will posting this after I finish the first one with a review of every single Rush song I listen to today!!!! So, the track list for the debut, which is famously the only album that doesn't have Neil on drums and lyrics, we have: 1. "Finding My Way"- What a goddamn opener!!! I mean, you can hear Robert Plant's influence on Geddy's vocals as he croons the high "oooh yeah"s, but what a way to start a career! I think it's nice that this and the final song on Clockwork Angels have this theme of "finding my way back home".

2. "Need Some Love"- This song certainly has a catchy chorus, but otherwise I don't think it stands out too much, other than continuing the vibe of the album. 3. "Take A Friend"- I like the concept of the song, even if some of the lyrics make me cringe a little ("Take yourself a friend/ whether woman or man"), but I can forgive those because Geddy literally had to write down the lyrics from the best of his memory the night before he needed to record the album because John Rusty ripped up the lyric sheets. 4. "Here Again"- Once again, not super fond of the lyrics, but Geddy's vocals on this track are just stellar, and the song reminds me of the post-battle section on "By-Tor and the Snow Dog" on the following album. It's got a nice, slow, heavy swing to it, and Alex's solo is extremely well-crafted. I think this song is sort of a precursor to a lot of their other work in the 70s. It's also the longest track on the album, coming in at 7 minutes and 34 seconds, 24 seconds longer than Working Man. 5. "What You're Doing"- Immediately I'm taken in by the riff, which is also inspired by Zeppelin, but it has a distinctively Rush tint. And even if the riff is inspired by British blues rockers, the singing doesn't seem to be on this track. And then there's the chromatic breakdown before it goes back into the chorus that is also reminiscent of what they would be doing on the next album on "By-Tor and the Snowdog". Already you can hear some of their prog tendencies! The solo is still definitely a bit of a Zeppelin-esque pastiche, but not a bad one. And I can also hear some other influences in the playing of the solo. 6. "In the Mood"- "Hey baby it's a quarter to eight/ I feel I'm in the mood" are lyrics Rush fans have been making fun of for decades, but despite the cringe lyrics, this is a very fun song! There's a reason why they kept it as a closer throughout the 70s. It's one of the simpler songs on the album, and by any other band, it would probably have been a hit. 7. "Before and After"- This soft opener with harmonics is sort of reminiscent of the ending of "The Necromancer" to me, another sort of look into the near future of their prog career. This song has a gorgeous opening, and I don't know I keep forgetting about it. The build into the main riff and verse is also just fantastic. There's this bit where Geddy and Alex drop out for a few seconds before coming back in with this heavy riff, and it's just sublime.

8. "Working Man"- This is the one that perhaps you've all been waiting for. This is the song that broke Rush over into America--- with some help from Donna Halper, of course! This song was played on almost every tour, and was the last song Rush ever played live together on August 1st, 2015. The riff is simply heavy, with lyrics pining for a better life. The song starts of slow, and slowly goes into a fast breakdown that seems to me to represent how life seems to slip right by as you get older. The song also just rocks. The breakdown has an amazing solo, some incredible bass playing (my biggest concern), and some solid time-keeping work from Rutsey (later improved upon by his successor, of course!). Stay tuned for Fly By Night!!!!

[verdemoun]

hehe hows seans fathers day experience

oh. oh this is PERSONAL. because you know what. i am stealing your own damn post and overanalyzing the crap out of it.

Darragh Macguire died in June. why am i providing evidence i don't know i have just thought through this question so hard. we don't have many confirmed dates in rdr2 but colter takes place in early spring (march?), few days here and there, few weeks moving camps, blessed are the peacemakers yada yada ya did you know it's entirely possible sean died before June. he died so young he died before the 10th anniversary of Darragh's death.

and then maybe, maybe he's so bamboozled trying to learn modern era keeping track of dates is not a priority. maybe it's the start of autumn/fall. all the leaves are going orange and gold and brown and he loves fall and in panic remembers wait i lost my da in summer. he remembers quietly, in a kind of somber in a way that to most don't associate with the irish terrier and it feels weird. almost wrong. it's been 10 years since da died. technically been over 110+ years.

hey what's the date today

he missed the anniversary of his da's death. and it bothers him so much he has to pull up that wall of i'm the unstoppable sean macguire so high that no one knows whats bothering him. if anything, they think sean is just his usual loud self to such an obnoxious extreme because he just really loves fall and crushing leaves and sprinting through parks alone and going to parties and hanging out with other young people outside the gang and drinking

just losing weeks of time being young and his own personal brand of reckless until he can will himself to forget he's a terrible ungrateful son who's da died, was murdered, trying to give him a new life and he forgot to do anything on the anniversary of his death

give it a year. it's been a year in modern era. he's got hosea, lenny, kieran, arthur. known bessie for a year and she's pretty damned cool. he's learned about da is a folk hero and been back to ireland and seen and learned so much about his da, the self-educated genius, the rebel, the politician and activist who is remembered by history.

june's coming up and he's ready. he knows exactly what he's going to do he's going to go to a bar and have a pot of beer the proper irish way and a smoke by himself on a warm summer night and just remember his da and how much he loves him and how much darragh loved him.

but then bessie's quietly preparing for father's day. which is a new concept to the gang. first time people even spoke about father's day was 1910 it wasn't a thing in gang era and it takes place in june. bessie explaining oh it's sort of a silly thing but it's a day for celebrating and remembering fathers most people buy a little present or knick-knack of some kind just as a way of showing they love and appreciate their fathers

sean immediately softening to the idea. thinks it's awesome. knows exactly what he's going to do. gives her some cash to buy something nice for hosea from him but he needs a little bit of bessie's help. she's much better at planning things even though he wants to do it alone and she knows all about darragh and understands why he wants to go all the way to boston.

gets on a flight all by himself because he might hate flying but being on a bus for multiple days would similiarly drive him insane. gets to land in boston and it's not. the same. like some things are familiar he can see a few old brownstones from the 19th century but he's walking around just kind of looking at things. looking at street signs and finally walking a street that's completely changed. not even sure if it's that street anymore or if the whole layout has changed or if he didn't remember it as well as he did but walking past the completely changed location he lost his da.

he finds a nice park to sit in. gets out his things. a clumsy bouquet of flowers half squashed in his bag because that's what you take to graves (darragh not having a grave because his body was taken by the british agency), a beer for him, a beer for his da, some brain puzzle keychain they were selling the father's day section that he thought darragh would've loved if he was there. lights his cigarette and just gets to mourn but also celebrate all the good things he remembers about his da

ends up having to run from police because you can't smoke or drink in public parks in modern era and cackling because how else would sean macguire end up celebrating father's day if not running from police

[darlingpoppet]

WIP Wednesday — WTDF Ch 7 Excerpt #2

Whenever I participate in WIP Wednesday it’s usually already Thursday in my timezone so I hope you’ll allow me to post during my Wednesday right at midnight, haha.

Where The Dead Forget chapter 7 is coming along nicely and as I get closer I still seem to be on track for a roughly end-of-February-beginning-of-March publication. I said in the last check-in that the chapter is mostly Patroclus-pov so today I offer a sample of what he is getting up to! This scene also offers a big hint as to which Iliad characters are making their cameo appearance in this story. That scene is in the home stretch now and it is LONG but I’m pleased so far by how it’s turning out :)

Sorry that this excerpt plops us right in the middle of a scene but if I may offer a bit of context: Patroclus has been speaking to a group of drunken shades who are passing around a bottle of ambrosia between them while they sloppily recount a very contradictory and off-color version of a Certain Achilles-related myth, until this happens:

“That is no way to speak when an honored guest is present, now is it?” A voice says.

Patroclus turns toward its source, and sees a shade approaching them. The man reaches out to wrap a friendly yet protective arm around Patroclus’ shoulder. He makes a small show of shaking his head in disapproval, tisking loudly.

“I swear, the manner of this realm grows more barbaric with each passing age. It is as if everyone here has forgotten how to uphold the sacred customs of hospitality, or even basic manners.” He faces Patroclus, addressing him directly: “These shades have been acting quite rude to you, haven’t they? Not once did they even offer you some of their drink.”

“Hey, now see here,” one of the shades growls. “This bottle was hard-won, I’ll have you know. We earned it in the arena fair and square, and we shouldn’t be expected to give it away to any random shade who comes wandering up to us. If he wants it so bad, he can go get some himself!”

The shade shakes his head ruefully.

“You see what I mean? No sense of brotherhood or principles among this lot, whatsoever. I’m guessing they didn’t even invite you to sit down.”

“No,” Patroclus says. If he were being honest, he doesn’t much care for this one swooping in with his sudden and unprompted gallantry. But it is easier for Patroclus to answer truthfully, and his growing irritation with the group gives him no incentive to make any effort to defend them.

“If you’re so keen to show this fellow a good time, why don’t you take him back to your place yourself,” another shade slurs out with a roguish grin. “He seems to be asking around for the best hero to fuck.”

“As if you weren’t the one who was just speaking of his fondness for men’s holes.”

The ribald banter has the group swooning with drunken laughter once again.

“Oh, all of you are incorrigible! Vulgar barbarians,” the shade huffs, speaking to Patroclus over the noise with an almost exaggerated, dignified haughtiness. “Come, my friend, we do not have to listen to this filth any longer. I shall take you to where we are able speak in peace, if you are willing. You wish to know about someone in particular, do you not?”

“Er… yes,” Patroclus answers, his eyes darting to the now distracted shades, still in the throes of laughter, before flickering back to this other shade, who by now he has identified as someone familiar to him, though his mind still searches as to exactly how. “All right.”

The shade smiles pleasantly at the acceptance of his offer. His teeth flash brightly against the the deep color of his sun-browned skin—he has a snaggletoothed canine on one side of his mouth which gives his grin a youthful charm, in spite of the stately handsomeness of his face.

The shade leads Patroclus to a secluded clearing not too far away. It is not unlike Patroclus’ own glade, hidden behind vines and easily passed over by anyone who does not have a mind to look for it. The shade pulls aside a lush curtain of hanging leaves to unlatch the gate, inviting Patroclus to enter ahead of him. Patroclus, acting cautious, does not move right away—instead looking to the shade with an unwavering gaze, giving him his full attention.

“Thank you, son of Hippolochus,” he says pointedly. The shade grins.

“You remember me then,” he says. “I am glad. Go on, son of Menoitius. And please do not worry. We offer our hearth to you in friendship.”

[starlady-baby]

So, I totally meant to post this earlier, and then I forgot so- happy late Juke Jeudi! I’ve been wanting to try and post my writing more, so for you today I have part of a Juke fic that I started working on. It’s not finished yet (tbh we’ll see if I do get around to finishing it-), but I figured it might be fun to post the first bit of it. Also, it’s just pure fluff. Evidently I can’t write anything but fluff if it involves these two. Anyway, enjoy, and tell me if you’d like it to be finished eventually! 💙💜

Mornings like this had slowly become one of Luke’s favorite things. Mornings when the sun was starting to shine into the studio, all of its plants, the piano, and everything else in front of the window suddenly had a warm glow to it. Mornings when he saw the sun starting to rise and for some reason didn’t feel tired, like he normally would have.

Luke was never much of a morning person. He was the kind to stay in bed until the last moment and barely make it out the door in time to catch the bus or even make it to school if he rode his bike. Actually, most mornings he’d have to sneak into class a few minutes after the bell rang and hope that he didn’t get another tardy slip. At least that was a benefit of being a ghost, no grades or no school in general to worry about anymore.

But maybe the reason he enjoyed these mornings so much now was because it reminded him of the day his life changed. Well, his ghost life. The day when she walked into his life. The girl who made his dreams possible. He could never forget that morning, the morning when Julie Molina played the piano for the first time in a year, and how he was there to witness it. There was something so magical about the passion she exuded and how carefully yet how meaningful she played the notes and sang. Oh, he could never get enough of her voice. A voice that had been described as an angel’s by one of his closest friends, and although he wouldn’t admit it to anyone, Luke couldn’t agree more.

He smiled to himself as he saw the glow grow bigger around him, the yellow hue of it almost matching his expression. The Molina family had a game night the previous night, and after several shouting matches between the boys about who was cheating in Uno, everyone decided to call it a night. The boys went back to the studio shortly after and tried to see if they could sleep again but ended up going their separate ways during the late hours of the night into the early morning. Alex and Reggie had come back a while ago, but now both of them were inside the house talking with Ray as he got ready for work and Carlos as he got ready for school.

He hadn’t heard anything from Julie yet, but knew she was probably already awake and getting ready as well. As much as he wanted to beg her to stay home from school so they could spend time together, he knew that wouldn’t go over well with her or Ray. He sighed to himself thinking he should also probably head inside the house and say hello, but gets stopped in his tracks when he sees the studio doors open and Julie walk in.

“Well good morning.” Luke smirked at her as she made her way over to the piano.

She jumped a little and caught her breath shortly before turning towards him, also being stopped in her tracks. “Jeez, you scared me! But good morning to you too.” She smiled back.

His smirk softened into a smile as she remembered what she was doing, and grabbed some sheet music that was spread out on top of said piano. “Forgot something?” He asked.

“Oh, yeah. Mrs. Harrison is doing a check-in on what we’ve been working on, so I’ve got to perform this for her.” Julie laughed, holding up the sheet music.

“You mean what we’ve been working on?”

[tmnowbot]

Ameba pico virtual world not on facebook

Examples of data that are stored locally on-device include any weight, height, or gender information that you choose to provide to Oculus Move.” Examples of data that are processed on device include raw images from the sensors on Quest and images of your hands (if you choose to enable hand tracking), which are both overwritten instantaneously. Processing and storing information on the device means it doesn’t leave your headset or reach Facebook servers, so it can’t be used for advertising.

“We do not use information processed and stored locally on your headset to target ads.

Specifically, that VR data includes whether you’ve viewed content, installed, activated, or subscribed to a Oculus app, added an app to your cart or wishlist, if you’ve initiated checkout or purchased an app on the Oculus platform, and lastly, whether you’ve viewed, hovered, saved or clicked on an ad within a third-party app,” a Facebook representative explained over email.įacebook says that it does not use the following information to target ads: “We use first-party info from Facebook to target these ads, as well as some VR data. Outside of that, this test doesn’t change how your Oculus data is processed or how it informs ads.” In 2019, Facebook announced it “will now use information about your Oculus activity, like which apps you use, to help provide…more relevant content, including ads”. In its prepared explanation of the advertising test, Facebook said it “will get new information like whether you interacted with an ad and if so, how-for example, if you clicked on the ad for more information or if you hid the ad. “Though we’re not quite ready to test them yet, we’re also exploring new ad formats that are unique to VR,” Facebook explained. The “small test of in-headset ads” is starting with Blaston from Resolution Games, and “a couple other developers that will be rolling out over the coming weeks.” Facebook says the purpose of the test is “to explore new ways for developers to generate revenue on the Oculus platform”. So, bye and happy holidays! If you have.Facebook is beginning to test advertising in virtual reality. I will keep this updated in my lives or whatever it is. So, I may need to say goodbye but this blog will NOT CLOSED. I know what my future is and I had to grab the chance of getting scholarship or at least, as much As I could get. I told her before but she was so disappointed that I had to comfort her by saying I'm not quitting. I actually hope to meet Yndi in Canada but maybe I won't even know her or forget her when we are adult! I shouldn't forget her but hope she won't forget me too. I actually quitted months ago but I'm saying this in public. I really have to stop playing Pigg or open computers. I know it would be a bad news for my friend especially Yndi. Unfortunately, I can't log into my account which was months ago but I'm not going to make everyone sad about such a small matter but however, I guess I have to quit Pigg. It's getting boring although I love the pets a lot and also my dear friends. Anyway, What's up? Nothing much with this boring family nor Ameba Pigg. ^_^|| Oh well, it has to be a secret! Wait till I'm an adult! XDXD Fully adult to be sure.

Hope everyone loves it! Also, you might not know what my ambition is. Hey everyone! MG's almost back! Today's holiday and so, I got some time for this old blog! Sorry for being so unactive but I can't help it! I'm going to post some great tips for improving languages.

[thisisevenharderthannamingablog]

Korn is the Actual Worst

Nobody is reading these but oh well. Today's very normal thought subject is that we see as early as ep 3 that Kinn when he feels safe is an open, smiley goofball who lunges for Porsche like someone at least a little bit aware that he's drowning.

They never come out and say how long it's been since Tawan, but it has to have been at least a couple of years? (Tay gets an award for sticking by him.) And I'm thinking something barely coherent here about the main house's hyper-controlled atmosphere, all CC-TV cameras and employees who ultimately report to his father, and how Tawan would have killed any sense of refuge even in what should be private areas, so for years no corner of that entire enormous place feels safe. [And he keeps that picture, in case he forgets.]

[I've seen a post or two disapproving of Kinn controlling Porsche's cell phone access, a fair real-world reaction that seems to overlook the fact that in the show-world, Kinn is trapped in this system, too. His family has his phone location tracked. People [mostly Porsche, but still] are constantly bugging rooms, eavesdropping, spying on one another. There is a literal informant in the house trying to have him killed. They all live in a fucking panopticon Korn runs, which is why in order to make real connections with people it has to be somewhere else, mostly Yok's for the symbolism of it all. But anyway, back to safety.]

Nobody is the exact same person with their parents that they are with their friends, but it is obvious that Kinn isn't safe around his father. He's cautious with his words, never shows a real smile, and usually buffers the interaction with alcohol. I get so indignant for him when Korn is reprimanding him in front of Chan, it is literally management 101 you do. not. do. that. For Korn, however, public shaming is the point.

I realized while I was writing up the ep 14 notes that his preferred method relies almost entirely on emotions. He's not a conventional liar in that he's usually not trying to feed people specific information as a means of guiding their behavior (though he does resort to that at the end of the season); it's not the words themselves that matter. It's how he's making someone feel in that moment. Which is why he goes with vagueness and metaphors and cuddly sweaters when he can. [I'll come back to that.]

His episode 1 conversation with Porsche is brief but significant, because he consistently takes this position throughout the season. He wants Porsche dependent on him, and it's not just the quasi-feudal "I meet your physical needs and you give me loyal service" one might expect from organized crime. Korn wants Porsche -- the man he orphaned! I hate him so much -- to have positive emotions about him, see him as a provider for Chay if not for himself. We see it with Pete a little bit from the other side; he's the only one of the bodyguards we ever really learn about, but in the ep 2 fish out of water sequence, he's the fish happy in the bowl. Sure, there's some annoying aspects, but overall it's a good deal.

It's such a grotesque, stunted version of actual connection, but if you can make sure that it's all anyone ever gets...? Once you've established that link, once you are the only source of those positive emotions for someone, you can use it. [Yet another aside: I'm intrigued by Korn's suggestion that Kinn and Porsche go away for a bit, because the only motive I can see for it is that he wanted space to work on Chay.]

Korn probably didn't even read Kinn the riot act about Tawan, just said something like I warned you. Now we have this. They live in a high-stakes world, would have lost face on account of it, lost business, a few people. I'm sure he didn't have to outright tell Kinn what to do about it.

The line that makes me want to stab Korn right through my laptop screen on Kinn's behalf specifically is not the apple speech but the coda: Our family is waiting for you.

How fucking dare he.

Anyway. I like that they trust their audience to figure out that Korn is as bad as his brother; he just prefers a different technique. And I find it interesting that Kinn categorically rejects this approach in favor of shooting someone in the head. (He would suck at it anyway; he can do the cold aloof thing 24/7 for literally years, but he can't fake emotions for shit.)

One of the things I'm mourning about no S2 is that we won't find out if Korn went too far in the S1 endgame. He ended up outright lying a lot as he ran out of maneuvering room. I'd like to know if he got too specific in what he said, told too many straight-up lies that were aimed at Porsche where Kinn could see him do it. Another good reason for Korn to keep his kids isolated from one another is that it reduces the chance that they'll compare stories. I was thinking about writing a fic about this but I might just leave it here - Kim, as the youngest, might have seen this tactic used against other people enough to have figured it out.

[the-caffeinated-hummingbird]

Author’s Note: Little Ghosts! Here we go! I was originally going to post on the 4th because it is fairly significant to the story, but chapter one was ready and I was really excited to share it! Chapter two should be up soon- it’s a lot lighter than this one, which is a bit of a doozy. But things have to get bad before they can get better right? I will also be posting to Wattpad once I get my cover to a place where I am proud of it. Oh! Also, this story will intersect slightly with my latest oneshot, “Who am I?” I’ll add notes for clarification as the story progresses. Confused? So am I! But writing is always as messy as it is fun for me! Hopefully you all will enjoy the mess and have as much fun reading this as I did writing it! Now, let’s give Bordon and Marigold a happy ending- heaven knows, they deserve one! 💖 And… scene!

Draw my eye to center stage

To the little ghost who wears my name…

-Mipso, “Down in the Water”

Chapter One

The Signs

There was a sign hanging in the cafe’s window, left behind from the day before. Boris didn’t have to read it to know what it entailed, he could have guessed it all. Line for line, verbatim. Still, there was something about its presence that stopped him in his tracks. He could have simply stepped inside. The lights were on. The door, propped open wide enough for the rich aroma of espresso and fresh pastries to waltz out onto the street, just like any other day. Perhaps if he saw it one more time in writing, he would find not only acceptance, but permission to move on with his life, along with the rest of the world.

His eyes scanned the message, almost obediently. The first half was painless, “Closed today so our staff can attend…” he collected himself and read on.

The remaining letters stood before her name like a firing squad, solemn and unforgiving. She had cheated death before. Made a career of it, according to some. From the moment they met, standing on a median in traffic, to their final embrace on her front porch, he was fully aware of her resilience. Her aptitude to live loudly and burn brightly in the face of all that haunted her. If anyone should live forever, it would surely be Marigold Casey. If anyone should die young, it would be her, too. No acceptance came. No permission. Only anger. Accompanied by the desperate desire to fire back at each horrible syllable.

It was over now and could never be revoked. The date and hour, the service and the burial all had passed, leaving behind a sequence of memories that he hoped would fade with the passage of time. But those immortal few with no discernible grave of their own, Boris included, can never forget such things.

“She would have hated this,” he grumbled, pulling the door open and stepping into the air conditioned building. All the tables were empty, a rarity for this time of day. “You should take that sign down,” he shouted into the chrome kitchen, “might get more foot traffic with it gone.”

A teenage boy with shaggy brown hair stepped out from the back room. Boris recognized him, but had to take a closer look to confirm. “Double Americano, yeah?” The boy asked, mindlessly punching a series of keys on the register.

“Better make it a triple today. Thanks, Tommy.”

“Done.” He rang it in and got started on the order, almost methodically. Yet another rarity. Tommy Martin was not exactly known for being thorough. “Giselle’s waiting for you on the back patio. You go ahead and I’ll bring it out.”

Boris left a twenty on the counter and told Tommy to keep the change. In hindsight, he felt bad for making the kid work. But he seemed to welcome the distraction. Anger again. Anger spiked with the sour taste of annoyance. “She would have hated this,” he repeated to himself. The thought was still there, but as he made his way through the cafe, it took on a new form. Marigold would not resent Waterford for moving on. She would want Coffee n’ San-tea to open and function as usual. But not like this, drowning in grim silence. She would be pained by those empty tables and seats, the quiet speakers hanging overhead. Pained by the overwhelming sense of hopelessness and defeat. The very antithesis of everything she stood for in life.

To him, she would always be a flower blooming through the darkness, towards a beam of narrow, unobtainable light. It was not enough to crave the sun. She had to embody it, to become it, somehow. She wore bright florals like plate armor. Optimism was her weapon of choice. Because of this, she was the happiest person he ever knew. The loneliest, too. But the happiest, regardless. “Joyful Always”, just as her headstone declared and the comforting eulogy disclosed. At least, it was meant to provide comfort to her loved ones, but it only deepened his pain to learn that her final words were not words at all, but a smile. Such intense devotion must have countered her mortality, right? If it truly was her time, surely she would have only vanished for a while. Vanished without a trace of her existence left behind. Swept away by a sunbeam, faded like starlight at the break of day.

Instead, the evidence of her mortality was all around him. The city she loved seemed to mirror her now. Death staged to resemble sleep. Only yesterday, he touched her cheek and whispered his farewell. All warmth was gone. All softness, too. Cold as marble and smooth as clay, holding only a whisper of color. If only he had touched her more in life, instead of merely admiring that sweetly blushing face. If only…

Like the cafe, the outdoor dining space was a ghost town. Occupied solely by frizzy-haired Giselle Zipp, who was seated at a small, metal table. Her eyes were glazed over and her hands remained motionless on either side of an untouched latte. The only acknowledgement she gave Boris was a single, absurd question, “Have you visited him yet?”

“Who? William? No.” The chair scraped loudly as he dragged it outward, across the concrete ground. “I was going to approach him yesterday, but thought better of it.”

“That isn’t who I meant,” she looked at the ring on his finger. Antiquated silver with a blue stone in the center. Nobody else in town knew how long he had worn it, save for its previous owner. “Henry. Or should I say, ‘John’?”

“I have no interest in combing the cemetery for an unmarked grave. Not after yesterday. I could barely stand in the yard for more than five minutes, hopefully nobody noticed…” he shook his head and breathed in deep, feeling Giselle’s judgmental gaze searing into the side of his face.

“Oh, I noticed. But I wasn’t surprised. You always had a talent for bailing on your friends. Did you even bother speaking to anyone? Anyone at all?”

He crossed his arms and looked at the ground where shadows of the nearby trees, the iron tables and chairs mingled in a dark dance. “I’m afraid you have it all backwards. Only one person bothered to speak to me.” His voice weakened, then snapped like a fragile branch in the wind. It was not the loneliness that caused this reaction, or the bitterness that he had been shown- but the kindness of that one man who sought him out in the chapel when everyone else had departed. “I’ll admit it. I was hiding in there when Pastor Benson found me. He said so, himself. Called it ‘the worst place to hide’. I think I know now what he meant by this.” There it was, the burning sob that Boris had carried in his throat for the better part of a week. He tried to fight it off, but was quickly defeated. Face in hands, he bent over his knees and wept, uncomforted.

Giselle nodded at Tommy, who placed the Americano on the outermost corner of the table and scuttled away. “Stop, Boris. Stop this right now. You know, you really should be ashamed of yourself. We all have it far worse than you do…” she caught a glimpse of the pain in his eyes when he looked up at her and decided, for at least a moment or two, that she had said enough.

“How is William?”

“Worse than me and I’m a damned mess. But nobody has it half as bad as their baby girl. He won’t even look at her. I hardly can, myself. Can you imagine? Barely a week old, without a soul in the world to love you.” She lifted the mug and contemplated taking a sip. “I’m mad, if you can’t tell. Real mad. At William, I think. And at you. But at myself most of all…” Boris started to cry again, but she really didn’t care. “Don’t give me that look, you know what you’ve done. And what you haven’t done, too.”

“No, I know. Trust me, I know. I could have been a better friend to her…”

“Damn straight you could have. I’m actually surprised you came. My best guess is Jake invited you on accident. But I’ve got something for you, anyway- something that Mare wanted me to give you should ‘the unforeseen happen’. Which it did.” She reached into a large, leopard print handbag and pulled out a piece of notebook paper, folded haphazardly down the middle. “Don’t worry, I didn’t snoop. I didn’t have to. I connected the dots a long time ago. She wrote it around the time you noped out of here and she was missing you like crazy. You don’t deserve to read it, but she wanted you to know. Just so there’s no confusion, she did not take these feelings for you to the grave. And if she did… well, then I guess I’d be mad at her, too.”

It felt heavy in his hands, that little piece of paper. The note itself was alarmingly short. Two simple, cursive paragraphs scribbled in fine, red ink. A few lines and words were crossed out here and there. In truth, it didn’t seem like something written by Marigold. He had seen her writing before, longwinded and colorful with flowers doodled in the margins. But the penmanship was hers, as well as the vernacular.

“Should the unforeseen happen…” he pressed the page between his palms, as though in prayer. “She wrote this at the facility, I assume. Long before William arrived in this century. Forgive me for asking, but I must. When did she entrust this note to you? When did she ask you to give it to me in the event of her death?”

“You really are a piece of work, you know that?” Giselle massaged her temples. “Do you remember what you told me, about three weeks before Mare and Henry split? Forth of July, if that rings a bell? You knocked on my door at midnight. I’ve seen grown men cry before, Boris, but never like that. Remember why? Or do I have to remind you?”

“Giselle…”

“No. You can tell me what you had for breakfast on a random Saturday in 1779. It hasn’t even been a decade since that night. Did you really love her?”

“It makes no difference now.” He drank out of the steaming mug. It was piping hot and strong enough to give anyone the jitters after a single sip. “But yes.”

“Just so we’re clear, I don’t blame you for moving back to New York. The ghosting her and screening her calls, especially after learning what was going on… friends don’t do that. If you were scared to talk to her, you could have gone through me, just to wish her well. I’ve been annoyed with you for years, but what makes me furious now is that on top of all this, you haven’t made any efforts to bring her back.” She reached across the table and grabbed hold of his arm, digging her acrylic nails in deep. “Bring her back! I know you can. I know what you are. And the devil you’ve made deals with…”

For most of this uncomfortable conversation, tears notwithstanding, Boris managed to maintain at least some semblance of composure. Now enraged, he forced himself from Giselle’s grip, startling her. Startling himself, too. “Don’t!”

“Don’t what?”

“Mythologize Arthur Tarleton.” Another sip, longer and somehow more scalding than the first. “He is a con man with a stolen name. The only thing setting him apart from the rest is that he cons people like John and I. Besides, I already tried. I broke down his door the other day. I called him last night, begging for answers. For guidance. For anything. Do you want to know the worst part of all? He gave me an answer. Everything else, I pieced together after talking to Pastor Benson.”

“Did you now?”

“Have you ever noticed Arthur never visits this town? He’s terrified of it. Of the power that pulls us apart and brings us together again. He claimed to be the architect of our fate. But there is something divine at work here, Giselle. It is greater than you and I… and certainly… undoubtedly greater than some fraud in New York. We are ghosts on a stage, puppets on a string. Arthur has seen the stage, the players, the tapestry and has held in his hand the very fabric of time. But he is not their creator. Not yours, not mine. It should make me angry, too. God knows, it has in the past. But it is almost encouraging to know this. Calming, in a way. The table we sit at now, this building, the street has been visited by more ghosts than he has encountered in his lifetime. You want Marigold back. I do, too. What if… what if she is here already, standing in the unseen world on the other side of the veil? And all we have to do to be near her again is to stop bickering with one another and listen?”

For five whole seconds, they did just just this. The only sound was the blaring of a horn in the distance and the rumble of an airliner overhead. Then, nothing.

“Well, that was enlightening.” Giselle scoffed, retrieving a mirror from her bag and fixing the smudged mascara in the corner of her eye. “She gave me the note several months ago. When she first started having complications. Henry might have left her, but she always referred to you as ‘the one that got away’. You should have picked up the stupid phone. If anything, to give her closure. You broke her heart. Sure, William picked up the pieces and put them back together as best he could, but broken is broken. Broken is forever. I hope you know that. And that it haunts you for just that long, if not longer…”

With that, she left him to finish his coffee alone. But the silence was far too loud there. The stillness, overwhelming. The bus stop down the street was being rebuilt and the line had been rerouted through Crescent Park, two blocks away. As much as he hated the idea of walking through her old neighborhood, fate seemed to be fighting in its favor. So, he walked. Past the record store and the neighborhood market where he had seen her agonize over calories and pay for meager lunches with hands so trembly she could barely get her card into the chip reader. He saw the treelined street where her former home stood. Still a cheery shade of yellow and lovingly maintained by its new owners, but to Boris it seemed hollow and condemned.

These scenes were torturous. The park, worst of all. Even from a block away, he could see the bench. The one he chose to sit and sober up on, years ago on the Forth of July. Now, it wore a sun bleached scrap of cardboard that displayed the words, “Temporary Bus Stop”. He sighed, backed into yet another corner. Before moving in, however, a vision unlike anything he had ever witnessed before appeared. He could see them perfectly, two figures from the past, seated side by side. Her golden hair was curled and pulled into a high ponytail, bouncing and swaying with every move she made. The dead giveaway for the occasion was her flowery red, white and blue pinup dress and the matching bandana she had fashioned into a headband. For as fun and festive as she appeared, Marigold was anything but happy.

He could see himself, playfully tugging on one of her blonde ringlets and slurring stupidly, “Ding dong! What’s wrong?!”

For a moment, she looked like she was about to chuckle. Instead, she looked away, up into the sky. It must have been alight with fireworks because he could see bursts of colors reflected in her eyes. “I don’t think Henry loves me anymore.”

“Oh,” Boris watched his likeness grapple with this information. Not because he was blindsided by it. If anything, he was the first to see their romance unwind. He did nothing then. Nothing again. “Are you sure? It could just be a bad case of sour grapes!”

“Sour grapes?”

“Yes! It is Independence Day, after all. And the British lost. Pretty abysmally, I might add.”

They shared a laugh, louder than the joke had warranted. It would have gone on longer, if Marigold hadn’t reached for his hand. “I’m so glad we’re friends,” she wrinkled her nose, grinning now, almost like a child. “Wanna know a secret? I always imagined love and marriage would feel more like this.” Boris closed his eyes and suddenly, he was no longer an onlooker. He was there beside her, holding her hand in his. “Friendship,” she continued, “best friendship set on fire.”

“You really are drunk…”

Her eyes were so clear. Full of energy and brightness. Innocent, from a distance. Even when sorrowful, those eyes were never jaded. Now, up close, he saw at last the true nature of her pain. It was not a shadow, but a burning thing. A flame he could still feel the heat from, even now. “May I kiss you?”

“Marigold, you…” he moved closer to her, just as he had back then, without so much as a second thought. “You can do anything you want to me.”

Amusement surfaced in those eyes of hers. Then a sort of tender contemplation. “I’m really not that far gone. Just tipsy enough to be a little braver than usual… and I certainly wasn’t drunk the other night when I saw you in a dream. Would you like to know what I dreamt?” She was closer now than ever before, drowning his senses. “I saw your reflection while standing in a harbor. Charleston, I’m sure of it. Only… I think it was in a time that has long since passed. While we’re on the subject of the American Revolution. You were in uniform. And looked really, really good in red! I turned around and held you and just like this… I wonder why. I wonder what it meant. If it was a memory or a merely a wish. Whatever it was, it was beautiful…”

She kissed him, boldly, but it was also brief. Neither greater nor smaller in its longevity than the life of an unlabored breath. Her lips were warm and soft. He could taste the source of courage on her tongue, bourbon whiskey. A strange deviation from the crisp white wines she preferred. It was short, but sweet. She was never one for small talk. How then could this wordless conversation possibly be any different? It ended on a high point, just as their rhythm was found. They remained close, eyes locked and breathing deeply. The only forces stronger than the desire to continue were the vows and commitments that were keeping them apart.

“You should head home.” He said, lowly. She did not respond. Just sat there, staring softly into his soul. “May I walk you to your door?”

Marigold nodded, but did not move. Not even to blink, not even to breathe. “I’ve never been able to understand why time moves so much faster when you are nearby. I’m sorry…”

He drew her in again. Planning on being the one to kiss her now, but instead cowardice guided his lips to the apple of her cheek. Like yesterday, its warmth evaded him. He was no longer a participant in this scene, but a spectator. “No. It is true,” said his ghost. “There never seems to be enough. Let me walk with you. And I promise we will walk slowly.”

They moved away from him, then rose like vapors above the sidewalk. He had little time to recover. Grief arrived again, a merciless tidal wave. He reached into his coat pocket, finding the piece of paper and clutching it like a talisman. To remain at the bench might have been the responsible thing to do with his bus arriving in under five minutes. Yet, the thought of lingering in that haunted space, saddened him. He made his way into the park, stopping at the highest point of the footbridge that arched over Crescent Lake. There, he opened the letter- the final thread connecting them to one another, to their past and, in the case of this curious tale, their future.

[giantkillerjack]

Jack talking to himself post for organizing thoughts about the day's energy allocation don't mind me:

Man, I'm tired in a 'deep brain migraine-threat full-body muscle exhaustion' kinda way. I guess that means I need to be extra careful with myself today. -- Even if that is... not an unusual status quo for me. (Even if that means I must simply continue strengthening my habit of being very gentle with myself almost all the time. Jokes on you though - doing so makes me even more powerful! I may be in a shitty situation, but it is already WORLDS better than where I was and it WILL get WAY BETTER still because I will MAKE IT SO NO MATTER HOW LONG IT TAKES. And in the meantime - and in the warm golden future: gentleness, on purpose.)

Food will help. Food prep is high-cost when pain is like this. Esp in my inaccessible kitchen. But wife can help, and there is no use denying that I will once again spend a large chunk of the day's spoons just getting enough food in me. But some days there is no way around that. Food is essential, and as far as I can tell, it always will be as long as I am alive. And I want to stay alive and I want to thrive. And so i must eat when I am hungry, even when I rather wouldn't.

(This is basically just how I journal, huh)

I have a message from my physical therapist about scheduling. Seems like responding to that today would be a good idea. [Update: Task completed! Achievement unlocked: "Super Calendar Boi"]

Gods, i fucking love Adderall.

Okay so I have my next meal planned, and I can probably hang with my wife and dog and watch TV while I eat. That's good. I can't really worry about dinner until after that. One thing at a time.

I have taken my medication. I have nausea medication standing by if need be.

Pain management: I have stretched and showered, but cardio is still needed. I will use the treadmill. And maybe do some more strengthening exercises.

I may go out to a lesbian bar tonight and meet up with a cute boi. I don't know yet. It is so hard to plan. But my wife says we have the money for me to do a night out. She doesn't want to go, but wishes me luck. 👌

I think I will be a happier Jack if I go out tonight. Just have to make sure I actually eat enough before I go this time. I always forget to have dinner before I go and then I get there like oh fuck!!

I'm really trying not to take an edible today because if I take them every day to manage my pain, they become less effective, and that's not great. Also they cost money lol. But if that ends up the only way I can find relief, so be it.

If I go out today, that will use and stretch muscles that don't normally get used. That is definitely a good thing. I think I will go out unless my condition worsens. If only because then when I come home it will feel really good to watch TV and chill.

There are other messages and voice-mails to respond to. I may do one or two more today. Nothing too urgent, it seems. Just... a lot of things to keep track of. It is overwhelming.

There's nothing I can do today to make money. It's a shame, but I simply have to continue taking care of myself day to day.

There are many creative and fun things for me to engage in if I want to write or draw or play video games or edit video or organize my concept art files. None of those things have to happen today, but some of them will and that is vital.

Okay, so here's the plan: get dressed, get food, watch TV, light cardio, rest, play Dragon Age Origins, go out to be gay in a location with the big couches i can lay down on! And then! Probably more Dragon Age, baby!!!! And also Princess Weekes' YouTube channel she is so good at explaining things! Or maybe the Musical-splaining podcast! Let's GOOOOOOOOOOO 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🎆🎇🎆🎆😤😤😤😤😤

Achievement unlocked: "Journal Boi Ultra!"

[iasconsumesmedia]

Fic Meme

I was tagged by @crestfallercanyon

Rules: pick any 10 of your fics, scroll somewhere to the mid point, pick a line, and share it! then tag 10 people. (Don't reblog, make a new post).

I think everyone I’d tag have already done it or been tag to, so if someone sees this and want to join, consider yourself tagged!

Oh this is fun, so here it goes, but with paragraphs, not lines:

1. Pretty Boys’ old selfies and the dangers of liking them (Thominho)

“ Sometimes Minho finds himself wishing there were a subject Thomas completely sucked at so that Minho, who also maintains a high GPA, thank you very much, could offer to help out. Just him and Thomas. In private perhaps. Near a bed, preferably. For when they need to take a break from studying, and Thomas wants to thank him for his help by-”

2.  Calm (Thomally)

“Another day he might make some flirty comment before approaching the locker, a flirty comment that will fall flat and sound dumb, because Gally is bad with words, but the other boy will laugh anyway and boy, does Gally love making him laugh. But not today. Today he just walks up to him and wraps his arms around Thomas from behind and breathes him in.”

3. The Name (Thominho)

“Kinda does, mate. You can’t change just for some guy. Even if he is as awesome as you say he is. I wouldn’t know of course. because it’s been months and I still haven’t even met him. Or even seen his face in a picture.” 

4. Hey There Little Red Riding Hood (Thomesa)

She stares into his eyes, enjoying but also hating the fear she can see in them. They’re beautiful. Big, expressive, something soft about them, and she didn’t know human eyes came in that kind of warm brown. She wonders if they’d get darker with lust and considers reaching out to touch him so she can find out, but she doesn’t want quite that much fear in her prey. 

5. Lay your hands on me (Thomally)

Gally doesn’t remember where Thomas lives now, so Gally’s dorm room it is, and Thomas babbles on about Gally’s hands all the way there. He has a lot of ideas about what Gally should do with them, and it’s getting dirtier and dirtier the closer they get. 

6. I hate you like the Grinch hated the whos (Thomally)

Hating you, Gally wants to say, but instead he tries to smile. He’s been well, you know, college, work. And no, of course Thomas’s win was deserved, wood materials, blending into the nearby greenery, of course Thomas won, Gally is not surprised at all. Just happy to be nominated. 

7. Mother’s day (General but with a background flavour of Sterek)

“I didn’t get him a gift,” Derek says. “I’m an alpha. He’s not my mom.”

Their food is arriving right then, and Stiles almost misses it. Almost. He looks around the diner. Families. Families handing gifts and flowers over to their wives and mothers. There’s a sign on the floor about the special. The Mother’s Day special.

“Uhm… what?” he starts, and the betas’ faces go different shades of red.

8. Beat you to it (Thominho)

Minho tries to pass Thomas at the end of the last curve, but he’s too close to the innermost lane. One misstep and he’s almost pushed Thomas out of his lane, except Thomas manages to stay on his feet. For about two more steps.

And then they fall, crashing into each other, feet hitting shins, elbows hitting sides, faces hitting the track.

The other runners pass them, except one who trips over them.

They’re both disqualified.

The shouting match lasts the entire bus ride home.

9. It’s a real shame this isn’t porn (Thominho)

Thomas rolled his eyes. “In the guest room. This isn’t a porno, Minho.” 

10. You’re just like magic (Thominho)

If Thomas were a different person, and someone who knew how to flirt he’d say something like I wouldn’t forget a handsome face like yours or, I always remember the cute ones. But he’s not. So he doesn’t. 

[katcheerrof]

Begged and borrowed time. (An Eddie Munson fanfiction). Chapter 2.

 Annnnnnnnnd I’m back. I should be sleeping but couldn’t help myself. Later today i’ll make a post with the chapters’ list. Promise.

Enjoy.

Part 1.

____________________________________

You could swear you could see a sign of hurt in Eddie’s eyes for half a second, but it had to be your mind playing games. It wouldn’t be the first time. You forget all about it when Eddie starts to scoff, laughing out loud, clapping as he comes near you. “Oh my God, y/n! I am so happy for you” he says, a hint of sarcastic undertone in his voice. You narrow your eyes.

“Well, I mean, I know there’s some kind of bad blood between you two, ‘cause of Dustin and all, but I had no idea you’ve reacted like this in a million years!” you say, trowing your hands in the air, pissed.

“Oh, no, no, no, sweetheart. There’s no bad blood between us two, at least not on my part. I swear. I just…” he stops on his tracks, he can’t believe it. He was so close to confess his feelings for you before everything went to shit and the town paint him as a murderer. That was, like, a month ago? You stopped talking about Steve that often, the two of you became almost inseparable. Eddie couldn’t bear to be away from you. He finally thought he had a shot with you. Kind of. He had hoped. And prayed. “My apologies. It took me by surprise, that’s all. But I’m happy for you” no, he wasn’t. “I just don’t want you to get hurt, cause the very first night we ever talked you started to cry on my shoulder talking about him after we shared some cheap beers. You remember that?”

You shift your weight on your leg, uneasy. “Yeah”. Fair enough. You really thought you liked Steve for as long as you can recall. He was always rambling on about Nancy and you couldn’t take it. Then, one night, you were hanging out with her in her place, and the boys were playing DnD in the basement. You stayed for dinner. It was the last day in their most recent campaign, Jane said. She also said that, this time, Mike wasn’t the master. It was some guy named Eddie, from school. You thought his name sounded familiar, then you remembered you shared Ms. O’Donnell’s class. You thought he was cute.

By the time dinner was served, they’re done. Mrs. Wheeler, a little reluctant, you could tell, invited him as well, and he gracefully accepted. The boys were beyond excited, and told you all about the session at the table. They praised and talked about Eddie’s master skills in awe. You were facinated.

“Okay, I’m sold” you blurted. “Would you accept me, knowing you would have to teach me everything about it?” you asked Eddie, turning to him. He holds you stare, opening up a warm smile.

“I would love to” he replies. Then the boys start to talk about their characters, trying to get your attention. You laugh, turning to them. As Eddie listens to it, he thinks that that was the sweetest sound he’s ever heard in his life. He definetely wants to keep hearing it.

After that, you two stepped out of Mrs. Wheeler’s place and he wanted to ask you out on the spot. But, at the same time, he doubted you would accept it. Not at the moment, at least. He could take his time with you, he knew it would be  worth the wait. He felt it in his bones. But Eddie wanted to know you first. Nothing’s better than booze for that. Fearlessly, he took a deep breath…

“I should really get going”

“Oh. Okay.” he barely whisper, and you turn to him.

“What? What were you going to say?”

“Oh, I was…” he coughs, clearing his voice. “I was going to check if you were up to some beers at my trailer, since we don’t need to wake up early to go to school tomorrow. You know, no biggie.” then shrugs.

“I… I don’t know”

“Okay. Okay, cool. We can always recheck if you want to.” You offer him a small smile. Both of you don’t know what to do after that. You look at your feet, he starts to play with the rings in his fingers. You were about to walk home when a sound in the back of Nancy’s yard makes you two jump. You turn to Eddie with wide eyes. Then you start to circling the house, trying to get a glimpse of what caused this noise.

“What… what are you doing?” Eddie manage to whisper. “Are you nuts? You never run to the source of the sound! Everyone knows that”

“Shhh!” just a few more steps… and you see it. Clear as the day. Steve. Trying to climb the pipes. Drunk, for the looks of it. You can feel your eyes start to water up. You close your eyes, taking a deep breath and wiping that one tear away from your face with fury. That was the last straw. You come back to Eddie, recomposing yourself. “On a second thought, that beer would be perfect!” you see him smiling shyly, his face lighting up. He offers an arm to you.

 “Shall we?”

[newtonsheffield]

In regard to the viscountess vs. viscountess smack down we all deserve; If I had any literary talent I would right the scene in which Kate finally gets fed up with Violet comparing Anthony to Edmund, and lays into her. I’ve only got 2 lines of dialogue, but they’ve been bouncing around my head like a DVD screensaver for months. Violet: You did not know my husband! Kate: And you do not know mine.

I think they made some interesting choices with Anthony and Violet's relationship in season 1

Honestly every time they're alone together I just want to scream

"Stop! You're hurting him!"

Violet baited Anthony into arranging that marriage with Nigel Berbrooke by saying it's what Edmund would have done, when I feel like we all know it's definitely not what Edmund would have done at all. But no one's ready to talk about that.

And when she says "Time, as we both know, is of this essence." I'm ready to throw down myself.

And here's what I basically think has led to this relationship between Violet and Anthony.

Violet's final pregnancy was... traumatic. Edmund died, and she had a difficult birth, and I think it's likely she had Post partum depression considering everything. And I think early on, it was easy for her to lean on Anthony. To let him take over the burden, it was a relief, in a way. But I think she forgets that Anthony was barely a man when it happened. Because it's easier for her to see him that way. Rather than someone who's still a boy who was stunted by grief.

But I think despite all this it leaves us open to some very interesting dynamics because we know that Kate is fiercely protective of the people she loves.

And I almost don't want it to be an argument between the two of them, I just want Kate to state simple facts.

Here's a little snippet of how I see it going down, fairly early in their marriage.

It was what a good wife was supposed to do, Kate reminded herself , visit her husband's family. And she liked the Bridgerton's she truly did, but at present sitting in the drawing room at Bridgerton House with her mother in law, she was finding it difficult to remember Why.

It had started when she'd arrived, shown into the drawing room with a simple Lady Bridgerton the title still making her head spin just a little as she settled herself across the table from Anthony's mother, smiling politely when Violet said:

"No Anthony today?"

Kate had hummed, "Just me today. I'm afraid Anthony had some meetings he could not postpone."

And, instead of smiling and moving on, Violet had hummed again, "Oh, I don't doubt it. Anthony is always... rather busy."

Kate had frowned, but the conversation had moved on before she'd been able to offer much of a response, but her mind had kept ticking over it, over a hundred different interactions she'd seen of Anthony and his mother. The way she'd sighed when she'd seen Anthony slipping back into the Danbury ball that very first night. The way Violet's eyes had tracked Anthony across the room every second they'd been at Aubrey Hall, the disappointed tut she'd given Anthony when she'd found them together. The way when Anthony had tried to explain that he hadn't been trying to compromise her at all Violet had whispered What would your father have said?! And Kate had watched as Anthony's face fell, his voice distant as he'd said We will marry next week. And indignation settled in her chest.

"Are you attending the Trowbridge ball this evening? Only I thought I understood from your Mother that you were not." Violet hummed into her tea, startling Kate just a little, her tongue a little clumsy.

"Anthony is not but there is a gentleman recently come back to town that Edwina has some... interest in, and I must confess I'm curious."

And again, Violet sighed a little sadly, catching Kate a little by surprise. "I hope, very much, that Anthony is trying to be a good husband to you. I know he can be a little... distracted."

Kate's mouth fell open, she couldn't help it. It was the very first thing she'd noticed about Anthony, the very first thing she'd liked about him. The first thing that had made it seem like they were the same, two sides of the same coin. Kindred Spirits. His devotion to his family. The way he shouldered burden after burden. The way he toiled over letters from his tenants, settled disputes, worked well into the night, steered gentlemen away from Eloise when she looked like she wanted to sprint from the ballroom. How he sat with Gregory and Hyacinth, playing games, making up wild tales. The way he cared for her, stood attentively at her side, his hand on her back a little indecently. Present. Even if he'd never love her. And his own family couldn't see it. And something in her snapped.

"You don't see it, do you?" Her voice came out much more softly than she expected, so soft Violet barely registered what she'd said.

"Don't see what, darling?"

"That he's drowning, in your disappointment."

Violet's brow furrowed stammering for words she couldn't seem to find. "Anthony is very capable of-"

"well perhaps that's the problem." Kate cut across her, sipping her tea to buy time, panic rising in her chest. "He is very capable, but enough straw can break a camel's back, so it stands to reason every person could break as well. And he'd never tell you this, because he loves you, and he wants to make you happy, So I will; Anthony is not his father, however much you all want him to be. However much he might want to be, he isn't."

That seemed to spur Violet into action, her eyes flashing a little dangerously for a moment, her voice firm, "You did not know my husband he was-"

"And do you know Anthony?"

Silence rang through the room for a very long moment, Violet staring back at her. And Kate forced herself to continue.

"Because the Anthony that I know, is an excellent husband, an excellent son and will be an excellent father to our children."

Anxiety still swirled in Kate's stomach as Anthony's mother stared, unblinkingly back at her, tension prickling all around them, thickening the air, but Kate forced herself to stand her ground, her spine straight, holding her gaze for a long moment.

"Well, I've taken up too much of your time already, Lady Bridgerton, I shall take my leave."

And that evening, when she heard a deep masculine voice in her ear in the middle of the Trowbridge ballroom say

"Lady Bridgerton, you look absolutely ravishing tonight."

When she heard Violet's surprised voice say "Anthony, darling, I'd heard you weren't attending."

It felt like victory when Anthony said, "And leave my wife with no dance partner? Absolutely not." A Grin on his face as he jerked his head in the direction of the dance floor. "Shall we?"

[katsukikitten]

Hello friends! Here is my contribution to the Bakugou Birthday Bash! The master link will be linked here ! Please enjoy my bit of an angsty fic! And all of the other art and works that are on the master list! Enjoy the big bakugou blow out and remember to leave a comment on your favorite pieces! Happy birthday ya shitty man! (Lowkey become 3d please)

Warning: he's 28 btw 😂 (my fic says so also)

It shouldn't be this fucking hard to get groceries and booze. It's a quick and easy errand. Everything already pre-ordered for an important birthday that just needed to be picked up. And yet here you were crying in your car trying to get it together before the attendant asked for the order name. Honestly you had texted out "I can't do this today. Sorry." Several times before deleting it, telling yourself not to hit send. But you would have to be having the worst mental day of your life wouldn't you? Today of all days, how fucking selfish of you.

Especially with the amount of time and effort you and Kirishima had put into this idea. Since New Year's actually, months and months of planning after the two of you had gotten shit faced at Denki and Mina's new years party, creating the brain child. All after bonding over switching patrol partners six months before, you had gotten Bakugou and he had gotten Ashido. Kirishima and yourself giggle over stupid things to the side of the party, people watching as you took shots. Kirishima points towards a normally grumpy blonde.

"Wow I think he's actually having fun." You snort, as you watch Bakugou hide his rare cat smile behind a sip of his beer as Mina makes Denki the butt of a joke.

"He actually loves parties. He never says it so people just think he's a wet blanket." Kirishima laughs, pouring the two of you another shot. Bakugou lets out a particularly loud laugh after 'Dunce Face' proves Mina's point. I guess that would be the time that it started.

When you started to fall. His laugh makes your cheeks deepen in hue and burn, to want to hear it again, to watch it again and learn all of the other sides of your patrol partner that he obviously only reserved for his closest friends.

"Let's throw him a great birthday party." You say, holding up your shot as a devilish smile spreads over sharp teeth. The mountainous man clinks your shot glass before he adds.

"Let's." In unison the two of you down the burning liquid as the plan comes into fruition.

Four months, four months and nineteen days of you thinking of nothing but your patrol partner with whom you got extremely close with since New Year's. So why? Why today of all days were you struggling? Why would normal everyday tasks feel more as if you were wading through mud than the breeze they should have been? You flip down the visor, looking yourself in the eye through little square mirror as you grit your teeth hissing

"Get your shit together."

Your little pep talk helps you get the several cakes and the cart full of booze that everyone requested, planning to make this the best birthday ever. Helping Kirishima set his house up with decorations, setting out the snacks, catering and even pouring some drinks as guests began to arrive to set down their gifts and help with the last minute touches before hiding. Masking through the pit in your stomach as you smiled at all of your friends as they poured in through Kirishima's door. Through the weighted emptiness you felt as each one wrapped you into a tight hug, already praising you and Kirishima for the amazing effort, that Bakugou would be so surprised when it was more than just you and Kirishima here. . Finally you had to go and get the guest of honor just before sundown to catch him before he went to bed. A much needed breather from the constant smiling and forcing a laugh that everyone thought sounded genuine.

Enjoying the silence of the evening train as it pulled you across town to the unsuspecting blonde. And maybe you could have made it through the night from your shitty pep talk or at least through getting the freshly 28 year old to his party but instead you catch your reflection in the window. Your facial features weighted with exhaustion, shoulders hunched allowing your body to continue to produce cortisol. Tears prick your eyes as you deep low, too low. Remembering everything and nothing all at once, steeping in guilt as you beg yourself for just a few more hours. That the depression episode can happen when you're home and alone, after the party goes off without a hitch. Tears fall anyway and they do all the way to Bakugou's until you finally get enough control to step out of yourself for a moment. Ringing the doorbell several times as a smile is plastered on your face, the door swings open. Bakugou's eyes narrow as they take you in, he notices that something is off. Your smile is a little too wide, your eyes rimmed red but he says nothing about it. Instead he lets his initial anger come forth.

"Oi! I told you to fuckin' text me when you were on the train so I could meet you at the station!" He growls, slamming his door shut and pocketing his keys. Deadly and sweaty hands deep in the pockets of his leather jacket as his palms itch to hold onto something else. Garnet eyes track your own hands as you reach over your head stretching.

"Yea yea, I hear you Dad." You tease giving him a look, "I still made it okay."

"Kirishima should have come instead of you that fuckin hair for brains." He snarls keeping pace with you as he always does on patrol.

"I know Dad must be sad cause his favorite didn't come to pick him up." You try not to sound dejected, nudging him in the ribs to distract from the crack in your voice, "Happy birthday ya big lug."

Bakugou cuts you a glare, mind racing before his barks out a "Thanks."

Comfortable silence stretches between the two of you before you two hit the train station, passing a corner store.

"Was shitty hair burning dinner? Do I need to stop for back up?" His thumb hooks over his shoulder towards the neon as he stands idle waiting for you to jog your memory. Kirishima had burned the last friend's dinner making Bakugou so angry he walked six blocks to make something that was 'FUCKIN EDIBLE!' while you tried to air out his apartment. You laugh loudly, genuinely for the first time that day causing Bakugou's shoulders to sag with relief. In the ten months he had been working with you he had only seen you faking a smile or laugh once or twice. Then the time after that you were absent from work the next day or two forcing him to patrol with Denki but worse yet...making him worry.

"Guess I'll grab something just in case." He gave you his back so you wouldn't see his face or the faint blush that dusted his cheeks.

"No, no! I ordered out this time. From that famous chef you like." Bakugou glares your way, digging in his back pocket for his wallet.

"How much." He demands through gritted teeth while you show him the palms of your hands in surrender.

"Woah woah! It's your birthday gift! You can't pay me back for dinner! I'd sooner burn the money before I'd accept it from you!" Your watch dings with a message from Kirishima asking for an ETA. You grab onto Bakugou's hand pulling him along into a run as you shout over your shoulder.

"We're gonna be late!"

Oh how Bakugou wished you hadn't done that, he was already struggling to keep his heart beat even when you were around and now to grab onto him. To pull him along in a hurry like those cheesy insta posts that couples did on their "grand adventure" together. He swallows the lump in his throat as he reminds himself that you are nothing more than his patrol partner. His friend at best.

Even though the train was mostly empty Bakugou stood closely by you, as he always did when the two of you were in a crowded space. He had seen how most men took advantage of the situation and he hated the idea of that happening to you although he knew you were more than capable of handling it on your own. Hell you could kick even his ass but he would die before ever admitting that. Instead he watches you talk about what you ordered for dinner and how you got the cake from that bakery Sato works part time at, the same one he got your birthday cake from but he doesn't hear a word. Instead all he can see is the golden light from the setting sun worshiping you. Kissing your skin to make it glow, giving your eyes a hue that makes his heart fall into his stomach and illuminating you in a true light. A radiant ethereal thing is what you were and Bakugou was just lucky enough to be standing by you. So out of it he doesn't realize the two of you are at your stop.

"Uh Suki?" Your voice is soft paired with the setting sun has him acting weird. He leans closer to you, pulled by some invisible force before he stops himself as he watches you look up at him beneath long lashes.

"You okay?" You ask almost nervously from his proximity, the smell of spice and caramel wrap around you making you feel warm and fuzzy. Temporarily making you forget that you were trying to act on the train, making you relax as you just talked to Bakugou. He sucks his teeth as he picks up your bag to sling over his shoulder.

"Yea but you were gonna forget your whole damn purse like you always do." He huffs, this time he was the one pulling at your hand in a rush before the doors closed to trap you two on the train. His hand feels warm in yours, his grip tight as he drags you along before pulling you within his sight, another habit of his you happened to notice. Almost reluctantly he lets go of you hand as Kirishima's house comes into view.

"We better have a good time tonight patrol Princess or you owe me a special birthday gift." He laughs causing you to roll your eyes at his stupid nickname that stuck after your first day with him, adamant that the two of you take your route instead of his it was a huge argument. But it was a good thing he listened to the "princess", it put the two of you smack dab in the middle of a robbery. You stick out your tongue.

"Trust me. You're gonna have a good time!" You push him up the steps as he bats away your hands. Opening the front door before everyone jumps out of various and bad hiding spots.

"SURPRISE!!" All of the alumni of class A and some of B shout, a select few already slurring their words. Bakugou's scowl turns into a smirk before he looks over his shoulder at you.

"Aw you did this to me?" His voice is teasing but his eyes almost sparkle, you nod encouraging him to go deeper into the party. As he does people flock to him laughing and yelling out happy birthday until he's sick of hearing it. All the while your smile wanes with the night. Until an hour in that heavy episode hits you full force. Numbness setting in where happiness should be, rotting as it turns to shame and guilt as you watch your friend, your crush, enjoy his night. Bringing a glass bottle to his lips as he talks with Kirishima, who then presses a shot into his hands. Bodies dancing to the house music that beat out of the speakers competing with chatter and laughter.

It felt weird to watch everyone truly enjoying themselves while you felt low. It felt more as if you were standing outside of the house, looking in through the window to see everyone enjoying themselves, no one even knowing who you were as you stared in.

You felt distant, alone. What a shitty way to feel in a room full of people, none of it being their fault and so the guilt pressed harder. Eyes watering as they lingered on the blonde who deserved this celebration and more. Making you decide to give the best birthday gift of them all.

To slip away upstairs and onto the roof, to give the room space to breathe when you felt like suffocating.

Crying to no one but the moon.

And no one noticed. Two hours slip by before Kirishima insists that Bakugou make a wish and eat cake before everyone gets too drunk too. The entire house drunkenly sings happy birthday but Bakugou notices a voice missing. Yours that's just a touch off key, not to mention he didn't hear you say the stupid nickname 'Suki' where his name should be in the song. Plus you weren't one to miss out on dessert. For as long as Bakugou has been working with you, you never turned down the opportunity for sweets. Whether that was taking the long way back to the agency to try to catch a certain street vendor or to hover by the deserts at a party to pick the very best treat.

And if it was a birthday party, you never could shut up that y'all could not leave until after they blew out the candles and made a wish.

His eyes linger for a second longer, making sure he didn't miss you before his heart sinks. He takes in a sharp inhale, thinks on his wish and blows out the candles.

Meanwhile you hear the cheers of everyone down stairs and sob into your knees. You missed your favorite part of birthdays. Of hoping they make a wish that comes true, of watching their face as they think of something quickly or how some people tear up when they finally realize just how loved they are on their birthday.

It isn't long after that do you hear the sound of combat boots on shingles. Whipping your head up in the direction of the sound. Stomach clenching with guilt as you watch Bakugou walking towards you with a slice of cake.

"Brought ya some cake, since I didn't hear you sing off key to me." He says sinking down beside you as you furiously wipe at your tears.

"I'm-um."

"You don't gotta explain yourself to me." He snarls as you stare dumbly at your cake, "You know that."

"I know…" Silence passes slowly, the moon shines overhead and the party carries on below.

"Well, I'm waiting!" Bakugou says dramatically, "You gonna sing or am I gonna have to sing to myself?"

"Oh." It makes you giggle a bit before you blush, realizing he is serious. You take a deep breath before singing "just off key" when you don't, to him.

"Sukiiiiii!" Relief washes over his features when he hears the dumb ass name, "Happy birthday to youuuuuu!"

"Okay, now you can eat the damn cake." He grunts, his smile never wavering as he looks to the empty street below. You follow his eyes, chewing the inside of your lip, setting the cake down.

"What'd you wish for…" Curiosity gets the better of you and earns his intense gaze. He smirks, scoffing at the end.

"You always say you shouldn't tell or it won't come true." He laughs at your pout, before he finally admits "I wished for courage."

With a furrowed brow you give him a puzzled look, he just holds your gaze.

"Why? You're like the bravest hero I know!" Bakugou can hear the truth in your voice, you aren't saying it just to fucking stroke his ego.

You actually meant it, making this conversation that much harder.

"Yea except when it comes to this one thing I want to do. Its fuckin easy and I've done it hundreds of times just as I'm about to do it I fucking back down cause I'm probably fuckin reading into things too much." He leans in closer, again his smell mesmerizes you, causing your body to visibly relax, "Too much of a fuckin bitch, thinking she doesn't want me like I want her. So I wished for the courage to follow through. To fuckin' just do it."

Your heart is racing out of your chest before one of his hands finds the nape of your neck pulling you into a feverish kiss. Teeth gnashing from the passion, lips perfectly modeling to the other before tongues lightly dance around one another. Lengthening seconds into hours with just a few head tilts and plush lips. You moan into his mouth, he pulls away, eyes clouded with lust as a string of spit connects your tongues. He pants, face flushed and his hand warm, almost burning at the nape of your neck, the shingle by his hand charred from restraint as he pants out.

"I wished for you."