#one going into pos at the beginning of next month

[outerspacebun]

Fraldarius cookbook soon????

[valleydean]

Chapter 8 [Read Here]

CHAMPION Part III of Heavyweight a deancas boxing au by valleydean (emmbrancsxx0) read from the beginning | playlist | tip

SUMMARY: Brooklyn, 1933. Dean Winchester, the number one contender, trains to become the next Heavyweight Champion of the World, and this time he won't let anything get in his way. Title holder Castiel Novak has second thoughts about retiring, especially when someone from his past arrives in New York and asks for his help. Meanwhile, a new contender rises to fame and threatens to complicate both of Dean and Cas' ambitions - and their relationship.

CHAPTER PREVIEW:

Built only two years prior, the hotel was a tall, brick building on one of the busiest street corners downtown had to offer. A place for the wealthy and beautiful, it was definitely in a prime location. All around it, cars honked and live music blared from clubs to entice people inside. The streets were alive with lights and crowds—but Dean only had his sights set on getting inside.

He tossed his keys to the parking valet with stern instructions to not get a scratch on his car, and then stepped into a lobby that looked more like a social club’s library than a hotel. Art deco chandeliers lorded over the dark mahogany-paneled walls and plush velvet sofas where women drank and men smoked. Grand carpeted stairways led up to balconies adorned with golden statues. A man in a white suit was playing a grand piano, filling the space with song.

Dean charmed the girl at the front desk into giving him Cas’ room number instead of calling up, because he wanted his arrival time to be a surprise. Finally, he was in the gold-plated elevator, suitcase in hand, telling the attendant to take him up to the top floor—because of course that was where Cas would be.

The higher the elevator climbed, the dizzier Dean became with anticipation. He was practically bouncing on his toes while his eyes were fixed to the needle counting the floors—going up and up too slowly. He’d been on the road for days, but these last few moments before he reached Cas felt way longer. It was unbearable. Why the hell did Cas need to be so high up?

Finally, the elevator doors dinged open, and Dean was in the hallway before the attendant could even open his mouth to announce their arrival.

Cas’ room, when he found it, was halfway down the carpeted hall. Dean grinned and raised his hand to knock—but abruptly stopped himself. He probably looked like a harried mess. His breaths were coming out in staggered pants and he could feel sweat lining his forehead. No way that would be the first sight Cas got of him in two months.

Licking his lips to steady himself, Dean placed his leather luggage on the floor. He shook out, trying to expel the antsy energy coursing through him. And he breathed—in through his nose, out through his mouth—getting ahold of his excitement. He pressed down on his hair to make sure it wasn’t out of place. The last thing he did was tug on his jacket and tidy the collar of his shirt to make sure he looked good.

Feeling better about himself now, he raised his fist again and knocked twice. Putting on a high-pitched voice to mimic housekeeping, he called, “Turndown service.”

Inside, he heard movement. Dean’s heart thumped.

He put his elbow on the door jam and leaned into it, trying to appear casual and collected. But it felt awkward. It probably was awkward. Acting fast, he put his palm on the doorframe instead, and hooked his other hand around his hip. Just in time, too. The lock on the door clicked.

Finally, the door swung open—and there was Cas. His twinkling blue eyes and tousled dark hair, his white shirt straining around his muscular shoulders and chest. He had a breathtaking smile on his face. He said, voice soft, “Dean.”

“Heya, Cas.”

Dean chuckled, unable to keep it in. He scooped up his luggage and stepped inside, into Cas’ personal space. Cas turned toward him and let his hand slip off the door. It slammed closed, but Dean didn’t even hear it; by that point, he’d already dropped his bag on the floor and wrapped his arms around Cas’ middle. He squeezed tightly while they kissed like a couple of madmen.

[zoandreez]

hiding in plain sight . (prologue)

pairing: ao'nung x omaticayan!reader

summary: your mother worked alongside miles quartitch in the sky people battle. as a dreamwalker, similar to grace, she got pregnant (occurrence unknown.) after miles' death, the sky people retreated. you grew up alone on pandora, afraid of what was outside of your make-shift sanctuary, until one day you go hunting and bump into some of the sullys.

word count: 1.3k

warnings: like 2 seconds of angst

as you frantically scrambled around your hut of trees and leaves, a ripped (and mostly fluff-less) pillow, and organization of old blankets you found from the abandoned pods, the day you had been dreading for a few weeks had finally came.

you were out of food.

of course, for any na'vi this is no big deal, all they have to do is go hunting. however, in your case it isn't exactly that easy. the other omaticayan do not know you exist. your mother, jasmine brooks, worked for miles quartitch, who (you quickly learned) wasn't the best person to know on pandora. during the sky people war, your mother as a dream walker was concieved. although the answers to how are still unknown, you were born with five fingers, five toes, and eyebrows, resembling human features more than na'vi. the sky people had no time to react, and with no clue how to deal with you, abandoned you.

luckily, you were just about 3 years old when they abandoned you and understood the basics of life-- walking, peeling fruits and such. you had to train yourself to hunt, to make your own loincloths, and other necessities. you never went hunting much, in fear you would be discovered. so, once every three months, you would wait until night to hunt until the sun rose, to have enough food for the next few months.

the last cycle was five months ago, thank eywa for that. however, you knew you were too lucky, as your next hunting spree would need to begin today. in the morning. you had no food for the rest of the day, and you didn't want to hold out, you were skinny and rationed enough. you grabbed your bow and your arrows and carefully snuck out of your hut, beginning your day-long hunt.

about an hour has passed, and it seemed to be going great so far. you had quite a bit of spartan and yovo fruits to get you through for a week, and you decided you'd get your months worth stash next week. on your way back, you had begun to dig into a yovo fruit, one of the smaller ones, when suddenly you heard murmurs.

"tuk, keep up!" you heard a boy shout.

your ears tilted up as you turned your head in the direction of the noise. you said nothing as you backed away, afraid running would bring too much attention your way.

"bro, why'd you bring her anyway?" you heard another boy say, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

something about the scene, instead of scaring you, enticed you. you inched closer to the voices, finally stopping behind a tree. you peeked between two branches like a window as you stared at the 4. it was a na'vi boy, braids pulled back into a ponytail, leading the group. quickly following behind was a na'vi girl, younger than the rest, swaying her tail as she leapt across the log following him. a taller girl, strolled behind casually, as the human boy caught your attention, with a breathing mask on.

"she's such a crybaby." the na'vi boy huffed, and the steps on the grass you once heard stopped. "she's all, 'i'm telling! you're not supposed to go to the battlefield. i'll tell mom if you don't let me come.'"

the youngest one, most likely who tuk is, stuck her tongue out at the na'vi boy. you smiled at her remark. the older girl blurted out a quick "don't pick at her," looking at him with disapproval.

they continued on their path, and you quickly ran to drop your fruit off and follow them. it looked like they were heading to the pods, and miles' old suit. you passed by thousands of times, breathing in your mothers old mask or sitting in her pod (unfortunately someone seven, eight feet tall cant lay in a five foot pod.) you followed the familiar path as the four began to speak again.

"come on," na'vi boy spoke again. as he climbed up to the crashed ships, the three of the other companions followed.

"oh, sick." the human boy called. you began to walk further out, uninterested in the chance of "any dead bodies up there," that tuk claims to want to see. you followed the older na'vi girl, as she walked further into the nature. she brushed her fingertips against the branches and lifted her arms to twirl with the leaves, before eventually laying down in the grass. you stepped closer to her, before freezing. you saw the many atokirina that flew ahead of you, and calmly circled themselves onto the girl.

you stared in awe as she lay asleep, the spirit seeds of eywa sitting on her, before they buzzed away. it was like she just got blessed? you had no clue what happened, and reached out to one of the atokirina to graze it-

"hey!" your head whipped up to the human boy. you quickly took off, brushing past him. "what were you doing? get back here!" he shouted, dashing after you before he shouted.

"lo'ak! tackle that girl, i think she hurt kiri!" you looked around, for any signs of lo'ak, the now name-assigned na'vi boy. after not seeing him, you took off for safety before you were pinned down by lo'ak.

"who are you?" he blurted out.

"get off me!" you protested, twisting and turning as you reached for your knife.

he quickly stopped you, but froze when he grabbed your hand. slowly, he put his hand up to yours. it took you a minute to realize what he was doing, until you looked. your hands matched up perfectly, but that isn't supposed to happen unless..

"are you a dreamwalker?" you both asked, and looked at each other in shock. "what do you mean are you a dreamwalker? stop copying me. why are you saying everything i say? stop it!"

the human boy interjected. "wait, what are you guys talking about, 'dreamwalker?'"

"she has five fingers."

the boy turned to look at you, before walking up and looking at her hands. "so, what- do we take her to dad?" "no way, he'll kill us if he knew we came this far."

"he'll kill us if we don't tell him the sky people are back."

you watched the two argue for a moment, before lo'ak finally sighed and gave in. he looked back at you. "sorry dreamwalker, gotta turn you in to big boss." he said before tapping his neck, as you caught sight of the little mic he had.

"but i'm not a dreamwalker."

the boys both froze and looked at you. "so, what are you?" the human boy said.

"well, my mother was. i'm just.. a freak." you said, wiggling your pinky.

lo'ak hesitated for a bit, looking at you. he had no clue whether to believe you or not. he grew up thinking he was a freak for his fifth finger, his eyebrows, his demon blood. now, this girl that laid before him could be like him. or, she could be what he's sworn to not. a sky person. a demon. he pressed his mic.

"devil dog, devil dog this is eagle eye, over." he spoke.

after a moment, they heard static and then a male voice spoke. "eagle eye, send your traffic." the male said. you stared off into the distance.

"we found this girl, she looks like an avatar, but she says shes not a dreamwalker. she has five fingers though, and we've never seen her before." you had begun to wriggle under his grasp, not wanting to be caught. "let me go!" you protested.

"where are you?" the male on the other line said. lo'ak looked at the now returned human boy, with kiri, and hesitated before answering. kiri mouthed a snarky remark to lo'ak that you couldn't hear, but it made lo'ak wince.

"oh. we're.. we're um.. attheoldshack." he said quickly.

"who's we? who's with you?"

"me, kiri, spider... tuk."

you heard a faint gasp in the speaker on his neck, and looked over at tuk as she said to kiri, "is dad coming for us?"

"dad's coming for lo'ak's ass, definitely." lo'ak hit kiri on the shoulder, as he continued to lean on you with his knee on your back, one hand pinning your wrists together.

this just acts as a prologue for a series i have coming, i figured i should get practice writing in!

[dd-is-my-guiltypleasure]

David Duchovny: ‘The X-Files took up my life, but it was a miracle’

It's behind a paywall so if somebody has access I would love to read the article

Update : got it, thanks @aimsies-mctaymellburg

David Duchovny: ‘The X-Files took up my life, but it was a miracle’

As Fox Mulder in the hit sci-fi show, the actor and singer peddled fringe conspiracy theories. Now the 63-year-old says Mulder’s paranoia is everywhere.

In hindsight it wasn’t a great idea for me to kick off an interview with David Duchovny by suggesting that he was a musical dilettante. You’re most likely to know Duchovny, of course, as Fox Mulder, the conspiracy-theory-guzzling FBI agent in The X Files, one of the biggest shows of the Nineties, watched at its peak by 30 million in America alone. Perhaps you saw him as the womanising writer Hank Moody in Californication or the 1960s detective Sam Hodiak in Aquarius. You may even have read some of his five books.

Duchovny, a New Yorker living in Los Angeles, is less known for music, although he’s been making rather decent folk-rock for a decade — songwriting, playing guitar and singing in a honeyed drawl. His 2015 songHell or Highwater has been streamed more than a million times while Layin’ on the Tracks, from 2020, has pointed lyrics about a certain politician (“It’s a killing joke that no one laughs at/ A stupid orange man in a cheap red hat”). He has released three albums, with a fourth due next year, and this month plays Latitude festival in Suffolk and the 2,000-capacity Shepherds Bush Empire in London.

So does the 63-year-old feel that he should no longer be seen as just a musical dabbler? “That’s part of a lazy person’s perception,” he says, bristling slightly. “It’s a lens through which people want to see me. I think music is an innocent art form — you listen to it and you have a response. To bring any kind of baggage to bear on it in the beginning seems to me to be dishonest, but that’s the way things go.”

YouTube clips of recent shows suggest people were having a lovely time, I say. This doesn’t have the soothing effect intended. YouTube footage lingers “because of the horror of the cell phone”, Duchovny says. “It’s a pet peeve of mine.” Is he tempted to ban them at his shows, as artists from Prince to Bob Dylan have? “I don’t know that I can enforce that view on anybody.”

For Duchovny, it’s as much about phones limiting his performance as it is about the audience not living in the moment. “To do something unique or for the first time, to reach for a note or play a different melody — all these are chances you might take if you weren’t inhibited by the fact that somebody is [recording] it,” he says. “You’ve got to be able to fail and the ubiquity of cell phones makes failure scarier than it needs to be.”

Failure is the key to another of his jobs: podcasting. In his series Fail Better, he adroitly interviews guests including Bette Midler, Ben Stiller and Sean Penn about their failures. “I feel like I’ve been failing my entire life,” Duchovny said on launching it in May. That may sound strange from a man with English degrees from Princeton and Yale, who has won a Golden Globe for The X Files and another for Californication.

Is he familiar with Elizabeth Day, the British journalist who has hosted a successful podcast called How to Fail since 2018? When Duchovny announced Fail Better, Day tweeted: “I might invite David Duchovny on @howtofail to discuss his failure to be original.”

“This is the first I’ve heard of it,” he says. “If she wants to be rigorous in her thinking, she would investigate what my approach to failure is. I don’t know what her approach to it is. My sense, since failure is universal, is that there’s room out there for more than one discussion.” This is a rather po-faced response to what seemed like a playful comment from Day, and surprising because Duchovny has a wicked sense of humour. He can also afford to be more magnanimous, given that his podcast is at No 12 in the UK chart and hers is at 54.

Gillian Anderson, his X Files co-star, certainly likes his podcast, writing this week on Instagram that she had listened to all of the episodes and found them “intimate and vulnerable … very smart questions, although I wouldn’t expect anything else from you [David]”.

“It’s very sweet,” Duchovny says. “I will email her and thank her. I’m sure somebody running my social media is … I don’t really like to be on social media.” Later that day his Instagram account replies to Anderson’s post: “Thank you for listening, you have an open invite [to appear on his podcast]!”

That encounter would be worth hearing because his relationship with Anderson is fascinating. Despite their chemistry in The X Files there were rumours of friction — although they looked to be getting on swimmingly when they appeared on Jimmy Kimmel’s talk show in 2016 to publicise the return of the show, which ran for two more seasons.

When asked by Kimmel about frostiness between her and Duchovny in the Nineties, Anderson collapsed into giggles, laid her head in Duchovny’s lap and put any froideur down to the dampness of Vancouver, where the series was shot. Her hair kept going frizzy, she explained, and “for every single take we’d have to stand there and blow dry my hair again”.

“And I got pissed at that?” Duchovny asked.

“Well, I think it added to the tension,” Anderson said.

“It kinda makes me sound like an asshole,” Duchovny replied.

Anderson had nothing to do with him leaving The X Files in 2002, he says now. “That was just me wanting to have a family, but also to try other things. It had kind of taken up my life. There was no animosity with the actual show and the people that I worked with. I am proud of the show — it was culturally central in a way that it’s very hard to do these days in a fragmented landscape. There’s so many lightning-strike aspects to it that I can’t help but think of it as some kind of a miracle.”

The X Files gave conspiracy theories a kind of nobility — “the truth is out there”, as its tagline ran. Now they are more widespread and pernicious. “Mulder’s way of looking at the world was through conspiracy and that was the fringe at that point,” Duchovny says. “It doesn’t seem to be so fringe any more. It’s really the world that [The X Files creator] Chris Carter foresaw happening almost 30 years ago. He’s almost clairvoyant in that case.” Is Duchovny more evidence-based than Mulder? “Not at all. I’m an artist — I am associative-based and I see poetry as science and science as poetry.” So are there some conspiracy theories that he buys into? “No, I’m talking about art. I think conspiracies are mostly just lazy thinking.”

One failure that has shaped Duchovny is that of his marriage to the actress Téa Leoni, who starred in Bad Boys and Deep Impact. They married in 1997 and have a daughter, West, 25, and a son, Kyd, 22, but divorced in 2014. “That darkness does deepen you. It makes you more empathetic and humble,” Duchovny says. One of the themes of his podcast is “the difference between humiliating and humbling. Often we focus on humiliation in our culture. I don’t see any positives coming from humiliation, but I see a lot of them coming from humility.”

One wonders if the reference to humiliation has something to do with Duchovny checking into rehab for sex addiction in 2008. Could him playing the bed-hopping Hank in Californication be a case of art imitating life? “People never tire of trying to figure that out,” he says with a sigh. “But to me, that’s not what acting is about. I don’t look for things that are mirroring my life in any way.”

Well, there are parallels in Reverse the Curse, the 2023 film that Duchovny directed, starred in and adapted from his book Bucky F***ing Dent. He plays a would-be novelist who has “sacrificed his artistic dream to put food on the table”. His father, a publicist, did the same, publishing his debut at 75, the year before he died. The film has some really funny scenes, including one where Marty and his son have a farting competition in a motel room that ends up smelling like “an aquarium that fed a sock”. That may have come from a line in Aquarius where someone says something similar about a police station. “I might have ripped it off, I’m not sure,” Duchovny says. “ You can ask Elizabeth Day about that.”

David Duchovny will perform at Latitude festival, near Southwold on July 25 and 02 Shepherd’s Bush Empire, W12 on July 27

[lemony-and-zesty]

So with hitman John Dory, what does the timeline look like?

Does the first two movie go about the some except for John dory being one of the bountyhunters that Barb sends after them?

Or

Is it post World Tour but before Band Together?

Or

Is it something completely different?

I really like your au!

Ahh!! Thank you so much!!

It’s really funny that you ask about World Tour cause that is where I originally got the idea, but it kinda morphed into something else entirely!!

This got kinda long 😭😭

So the main timeline I’m thinkin is this:

The events leading up to the Brozone break up are essentially the same. Then, once the boys break up, JD gets the hell out of there and ends up in the Neverglades where he spends the next ten years completely lost.

Some time during that, the pop trolls escape Bergentown - not that JD knows this lol - and JD finds Rhonda and decides to raise her.

He escapes the woods at some point and that’s when he finds the city. This is where he spends most of his time. Due to his debt and the strictness of his boss, he doesn’t leave often. Not unless he gets a hit that’s out of the way, but still worth it.

His boss oversees most of his jobs.

After ten more years, news begins to travel about the Rock trolls getting out of hand. Barb puts out a call for bounty hunters, but the boss seems it as unimportant so JD doesn’t end up taking it.

During this, Floyd is captured by two fame-hungry teenagers.

Anyways, the boss catches word of The Queen of Pop having a partner and realizes that it’s one of JD’s brothers. He purposefully keeps this from JD - who hasn’t heard a single word about any of his brothers.

A couple months later, Queen Poppy’s name has spread all over and some pos decides to put a hit on her. And it’s a doozy of a bounty.

JD’s boss forces him take the hit, knowing that it would make JD very well-known, if not the most infamous hitman. Which would bring him fame and prosperity by proxy.

While this happens, Branch gets an extremely suspicious letter letting her know her immediate older brother is being held by Velvet and Veneer.

Things definitely stray from the canon of Band Together, but I might get to that later. Especially since this is getting super long 😭😭

[rorywritesalot]

The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived

Chapter 1: Guilty as Sin?

Prenote: Okay! We have chapter 1 now! Already diving into some smut. Remember, drink your water, get some sleep, enjoy!

Warnings: Cursing, MDNI, SMUT, NSFW, mature themes, masturbation, oral (fem receiving).

Ensley’s POV

It’s been just over a week since the incident with Colonel Quaritch. It is constantly replaying in my head. From the moment I ran into him, to the feel of my hand in his. I still see his eyes and the way they looked into mine. The smell of teakwood and the outdoors haunts my dreams. 

This is crazy! All this bullshit for a man I don’t even know?! I’m never like this. I mean I’ve only had a small handful of boyfriends but none of them ever made me feel like this. Just the mere thought or mention of the colonel gets heat rising to my face and making me feel all warm and fuzzy. Seriously, what is this shit?

I don’t realize how long I've been scribbling my notes on this new plant until I feel a hand on my shoulder. It’s Grace.

“Can you do a big favor for me?” She asks and she has that specific look on her face that says “I know you hate doing this.” I sigh heavily.

“What is it?” I say flatly, already knowing what she’s going to ask.

“Will you sit in on that staff meeting that’s in an hour? Please?” She claps her hands together and smiles wide at me, she knows that I won’t say no.”

“Why do you always ask me to do it? There are plenty of other people that could do it.” I say in a desperate attempt to get her to go ask someone else. 

“I know, but you’re the one I trust the best. You and your stubbornness proves to be good in these meetings. Also, I’ll let you off early if you do this for me.” I crack under this praise. God this woman is good at bribing me. She knows just how much I love my sleep.

“Ugh, fine.” I say. She pats my hand and says thank you before returning to her desk to get her work done. I look at the clock and it says ‘12:45 hour’. Okay, I’ve 45 minutes until this meeting. I can finish these notes and file them in that time. 

I continue my scribbling, file my notes, and clean up my area just in time. I look at the clock and it’s ‘13:12 hour’. Perfect, I have just enough time to get there and still be a bit early. I hate being late and what do I hate even more than being late? I hate being on time. Early is the way to go for me. 

I walk down the corridor until I reach the conference room. This isn’t a big meeting, it’s more of just a maintenance meeting where the more important people go over their accomplishments from the last month and then discuss their goals for the next. It never takes long. I don’t mind these meetings as I have made friends with one of the soldiers, Lyle Wainfleet. He and I both got stuck in these meetings for the exact same reason, our superiors couldn’t be bothered to do it themselves. 

I take a seat in my usual spot which is the chair in the middle of the table. Nobody else is in the room so I stare off again. My mind wanders and runs wild, as it normally does. I let my imagination take control and it takes me back to damn Colonel Quaritch. What is this man doing to me? I imagine how that run in could have been different. What trouble we could’ve gotten into together. I begin to wonder. I wonder what his hands would feel like on my body, not just on my hand. How his lips would feel upon my skin and lips. I wonder what kind of lover he might be. Would he be kind and gentle or would he be rough and mean? Would he be a very basic partner or does he like to experiment? 

My mind takes us to my room, on my bed. He tosses me on the bed and pulls to the foot of it by my ankle so my ass is just about to hang off the edge. He leans down and places his lips on mine harshly. While we’re in a heavy makeout session, I feel his fingers run up my leg until his hand rests on my upper thigh. He breaks the kiss and moves his hands to the waistband of my leggings and pulls them down along with my panties. 

He positions himself so his face is level with my core. His eyes trail back up to my face and he waits for me to give him some sort of acknowledgment to continue. I nod my head and wait for his lips to be where I need them most. 

Just as he’s about to be exactly where I want him, I’m violently broken out of my thoughts when the first person enters the room. It’s no one important. Oh my god what is wrong with me? That man is probably old enough to be my father. He has to be at least 25 years older than me. Am I really that horny that I’d let just any man fuck me? I’ve never been into men twice my age. My exes have either been my age or just a year or two older than me.

I start looking over Grace’s notes that she sent me with so I can start preparing my mental script when the door opens again. I expect it to be Lyle because he’s usually here by now but when I look up, Lyle is not in sight. Instead, he is replaced by Quaritch himself. He makes his way to one of the open chairs and takes the one that just so happens to be the chair across from me, of course he does. I mentally grumble and turn my attention to the person who is leading the meeting. 

The meeting begins and I usually tune out the first little bit of it because it’s always the same rundown. I scan my eyes over the attendees. They range from Peter Selfridge, to some of the lower interns. In the middle of my space out session, my eyes trail to the man across from me. As I move to meet his gaze, I find that he's already looking at me. Blood rushes to my cheeks and I look away as fast as I meet his eyes. I look back at him out of the corner of my eyes and I see him chuckling at my embarrassment. I internally roll my eyes.

“Dr. Sully?” I hear. My head perks up at the sound of my name. “Do you have a report?” I now realize it was Selfridge who called my name.

“Y-Yes! I do. I’m sorry, my mind was elsewhere.” I read off my notes and give everyone updates from my department. As I’m running down the list, I make the mistake of looking back at the Colonel, whose eyes are scanning all the parts of me that he can see, at least I think he is. My mind could very well be tricking me into thinking this man is checking me out. I finish my speech and slump back in my chair. 

The meeting finishes and I duck out, not wanting to be caught up in small talk. I just want to go back to my room and sleep. I once again am not paying attention when I bump into the back of someone in the doorway of the conference room. I turn to quickly to say my apologies but I’m stunned as I notice the familiar muscular arm.

“This is the second time sweetheart. If I didn’t know any better, i’d say you’re runnin’ into me on purpose.” He says with that smirk on his face. He moves out of the way and motions for me to walk out of the room first. I mumble a ‘thank you’ and move out of the room. I walk down the hallway to head to the living quarters. I subtly turn to look back and find that the colonel is only 2 paces behind me. 

“You wouldn’t happen to be following me, would you colonel?” I slow my walking down until he’s just behind me. I am engulfed by that smell of teakwood and outdoors again. I inhale slightly.

“No ma’am, just heading to my room.” He says, his southern accent is laced with amusement. “I bet you’d like it if I was following you though.” He laughs at his own joke. I mockingly laugh back.

“In your wildest dreams colonel.” I say, turning to him to give him a mocking look. 

“Please, just call me Miles.” 

“Oh so we’re on first name bases now, I just met you good sir.”

“Yes," He rolls his eyes, "but only if I can call you Ensley.” I stop in my tracks and slowly turn to look at him. I smile up at him and in return, he flashes those pearly whites at me. I feel my stomach start to do flips to be on the receiving end of his smiles. 

“Ye-Yea, you sure can, Miles.” I say with some extra dramatics. He smiles and chuckles before walking past me to head back down the hall. I watch him go. When he’s out of sight, I race to my room. It’s a small cozy room with a bed in the middle. There's a decently sized walk-in closet, a dresser, a small futon and some shelfs littered on the walls. There is also a small bathroom with a shower and toilet just off to the side. I sigh as I set my stuff down and plop on my bed. I enjoy that this is my one small place to call my own on this big unfamiliar planet. It keeps me sane. 

I sit up and realize that I am in desperate need of a shower. I move to my closet to grab my towel and pjs and walk into the bathroom to turn on the shower. I stand under the warm water for what feels like hours. My brain has not been able to stop and shut up for the last seven days. All because of him, Miles Quaritch. Thoughts of him have infested my mind. It doesn’t matter if it’s just him in general or if it’s my brain imagining what it might be like to have him on top of me. This is seriously getting ridiculous. 

I get out and dry my body off. Instead of putting my pajamas on, I take my naked body to my bed. I drop my towel before I lay down and I sprawl my body out messily on the bed. I stare off at the ceiling. I take deep breaths and try to calm myself. 

Aimlessly, my one hand slips from my stomach to my breast and the other down to my core. My fingers start to pinch and pull at my nipple and the other fingers start to rub my clit, both movements making my body erupt in pleasure. Soft gasps and sighs start to fill the room and thoughts of Miles begin to fill my mind. I go back to where I was before I was interrupted in the conference room earlier. 

Miles moves down to part my legs and places his head in between my thighs. I can feel his warm breath on my pussy and it makes me ache and yearn for him even more. 

“Tell me what you want sweetheart.” She says as he moves to hook his arms around my thighs, placing kisses on the inner skin of my thighs.

“I want your mouth. I want you to taste me.” I say breathlessly and he does exactly what I say for him to do. His mouth contexts with my clit and he sucks at the sensitive bud.

My hands continue to pinch and rub as I feel myself fall apart in my own hands. My orgasm starts to build and I work my hands faster, chasing my orgasm. I groan and moan as I still imagine him playing with my clit.

My climax hits me out of nowhere. My body twitches and my thighs squeeze around my hand as I ride it out. After I finish, I let go of my nipple and take my hand away from my clit and lay there limb for a bit. 

I’ve asked this question before and I'll ask it again: What is wrong with me? I’ve had two encounters with this man and I already want him between my thighs. I’m fucking crazy.

I sit up from my spot on my bed and contemplate what my next move is. I sit there for a bit, my back hunched and my arms hang lazily. I have an idea.

“I need another shower.”

Postnote: (Long, so bear with me.) I hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. If I made any mistake or you have questions, message me! I'd love to hear from y'all. I will also be taking some suggestions on how to start the next chapter because I have no idea what to do. I will be making a posting schedule and that is to post once a week, whether it be this story or a different story. If you have requests, ask! Have a good rest of your week!

[mitochondriencocktail]

50 for the kiss request, and bojere bc just obliterate me at this point /pos

ok u asked for this... (for extra atmosphere... this is the song I pictured.)

50 ...in love

--

The coffee table had been shoved to the far reaches of the cramped living room, only the checkered carpet remaining in the middle. It was far from ideal for dance practice, but Jere had insisted it would be fine. It became quickly apparent that they wouldn't need much space for the skill level they were working at.

"No, step less wide. You're looking boxy."

Jere rolled his eyes, but acquiesced, shortening the width of his side stepping.

Bojan hit play on the YouTube video that was embarrassingly titled How to Learn a Wedding Dance in 5 Steps. It wasn't that Bojan or Jere didn't have any experience, but it'd come to light that when pressed to dance in a formal setting--face to face of all things--it seemed all of their natural rhythm went out the window. How the fuck that worked baffled Bojan. They were two musicians, both of whom danced entirely fine under any other circumstances, but suddenly with their wedding day looming, that was all moot.

"Okay, next we're going to learn how to separate!" the perky dance instructor said through the speakers of Jere's MacBook. Onscreen, she and her partner talked about how the lead should use their body weight to guide, not shove, the follow.

It was the fifth time they'd watched this.

Bojan's elbows jerked awkwardly out, sending Jere springing back.

"Bojan, loosen up," Jere pinged, pulling himself back in close.

"I'm loose! I'm so loose right now."

"That not something someone loose would say."

"Why am I leading?" Bojan blurted out.

"You taller..." Jere huffed. "Plus I not want pressure of it," he cackled.

Bojan sighed. Alright, fine, if Jere wanted Bojan to lead, then he would lead.

"Okay, let's start from the top." Bojan disentangled himself from Jere and shook out his arms and legs, pushing away the anxiously gnashing thoughts of all those eyes of friends and loved ones watching them awkwardly shuffle around a too-big dance floor in the middle of some ballroom that Bojan's family had insisted on. It didn't have to be perfect. It just had to be them on the big day.

Jere paused the video and pulled up their song, a dreamy, melodic slow dance with lots of reverb and sappy sentiment.

A deep breath as the beginning chords echoed through the living room.

Bojan held out his hand, Jere's slipping effortlessly into it. Their eyes met and Bojan let the music wash over him, leading Jere out to the carpet with intense focus, timing it just so to add a twirl before getting into basic position. From here, his lips lined up perfectly with the crown of Jere's head.

As the song continued on, their feet step-tapping in beat, the tension eased from Bojan's body, Jere's infectious optimism about the whole thing bleeding out between them. The weight of every step filled Bojan's heart with a pleasant humming; the gentle strumming and smooth voice eroding away the rough edges of Bojan's frustration like a river over stone.

Using his body weight, he led Jere out into a separation and then guided him back in for a spin, repeating it a few times throughout the song, each one more playful than the last until Jere was bubbling with giggles.

As the song came to a close, Bojan was grinning, soft and gooey like caramel. He dipped Jere down with flourish and the song faded into the quiet of the living room, only their breath audible.

"Sorry, I know I can be kinda fussy," Bojan admitted with a quiet chuckle.

Jere kissed his nose.

"Yes, but I love."

"I hope so," Bojan laughed, "we're getting married in two months."

Jere's eyes widened almost imperceptibly.

"We are," he beamed.

In that smile, a distillation of a million shared moments; tentative beginnings, heartfelt middles, and a sprawling future with untapped possibilities. It shouldn't have been possible to cram every shared meal and quiet evening and midday walk and grocery haul and international flight and scenic view and cherished 'get home safe' text and silly fight and steadfast comfort into a single look, but Jere was always defying the odds. Achieving the impossible.

Bojan brought Jere up from the dip and kissed him.

[symphonic-scream]

It's me the fool back again with another au this time it's

Actual Criminals Au for P5

Where. They're real criminals.

The metaverse isn't real, and all of them grew up with qualms about how some people get away with everything. And, eventually, they all get the push they need to stop being a bystander and become Phantom Thieves

They all live in the same building, and have a secret lair under it. They pose as normal people with jobs and lives and then at night they're plastering evidence of assaulters all over Shibuya, or leaking videos of insider trading or what's on someone's hardrive

Sometimes they do normal crime like stealing from the rich to fund their bigger operations. Just for fun

Okay let's go down the list

Akira works as a bartender in a fancy hotel bar, and goes home to his "wife", Haru, each night. That's how it appears, at least. As a fresh graduate from secondary school, he ended up coming together with some friends to expose a shitty pervert for who he was, and thus began their lives as the Phantom Thieves. Joker is the ringleader, and known publicly to always be listening from the shadows

Then there's Ryuji, a middle school phys Ed teacher, married to Makoto. It's perceived to be a functioning marriage. He was a founding Thief, and is their Rough'em'up guy. Between Skull and Queen, they get their answers when they want them

Ann is next, wed to Yusuke, working as a model. Mysteriously, the guest room at their place seems to always be occupied by former top athlete Shiho. Ann's love for her best friend was one of the main flames behind the beginning of the Thieves, and Panther is key at tricking their enemies into drinking a spiked drink or spilling secrets for a moment with the attractive blonde

Okay now, Yusuke, he came later. Yeah married to Ann blah blah. He's an artist, paints in a studio all day. His former mentor drove him to the brink, but luckily the Thieves found him there, and gave him the power to drag himself back to his feet. Fox is very feared, as his harsh words and quick moves remind his enemies of an old samurai

Makoto was once looking like she would be another young officer on the streets, doomed to being beat down by the system. Now, she owns a gym a block from where she lives with her husband Ryuji, and moonlights as the fast driving, hard hitting Thief Queen. The only thing that burns brighter than her rage at the failing society around her is her homosexuality.

Software engineer Futaba lives alone, and she likes it that way, supposedly. She's gotten her act together, again, supposedly, and is no longer hacking. Yeah right. After taking down the false shepherd Medjed, Oracle does the computer work for the Thieves, keeping them in the know during missions

The final standard member of the Thieves, Haru, didn't exist until recently. Well, under the name Haru. She used to live as the sole son of the CEO of Okumura Foods, and has found a life that suits her much better. As Haru, she runs a bakery just outside the entrance of her apartment building, and lives with her husband, Akira. As Noir, she's more than willing to show that actions have consequences, though she's often aware enough to keep her act to just frightening rather than deadly

Then it's the half members, Goro and Sumire. They're legally married. One is a top tier detective, the other teaches youth gymnastics. Crow and Violet appear maybe once every other month at most, filling the roles the teams those nights need

--

Okay so this is a Polythieves au, so the married couples above are mostly for cover. Below is a simplified web of the poly workings of the group

Akira -> Goro, Sumire, Ryuji, Ann, Yusuke, Shiho, Haru

Ryuji -> Akira, Ann, Yusuke, Haru

Ann -> Shiho, Akira, Ryuji, Yusuke, Makoto, Haru

Yusuke -> Akira, Goro, Ryuji, Ann

Makoto -> Haru, Ann, Shiho

Futaba -> Sumire

Haru -> Makoto, Akira, Ryuji, Ann, Shiho

Goro -> Akira, Yusuke, Sumire

Sumire -> Akira, Futaba, Goro

I have lots more for this but this is just the like outline post. SEND ME ASKS IF YOU WANNA KNOW ANYTHINF OR HAVE QUESTIONS

[chelseachilly]

king of my heart - pt 8

i loved you in spite of deep fears that the world would divide us so, baby can we dance through an avalanche?

pairing: reader x ben chilwell summary: ben’s injury begins to take a toll on your relationship warnings: angst & some cursing word count: 1.8k

a/n: sorry for more angst :( it won’t last long, i promise!!

see my masterlist for previous chapters

benchilwell

liked by yourusername, masonmount and others

benchilwell Absolutely gutted to have injured my ACL again so early in the season. I’m going to work hard to return to the pitch as quickly as possible and get back to playing for my club and country. Thanks for all the support. 💙

yourusername ❤️❤️❤️

masonmount You’ll come back stronger ❤️

cmpulisic You got this chilly 💙

jackgrealish Speedy recovery mate ❤️

-

It’s an incredibly tough couple of weeks following Ben’s injury - for both of you.

The first few days, he’s in so much pain he can barely move at all, on complete bed rest except for the trip to the hospital to get an MRI.

You see something shatter within him the moment the doctor tells him it’s a complete tear of the ACL and he’s looking at 6-9 months for recovery. The Euros are in nine months, which means he could not only miss the rest of the season with Chelsea, but also be unable to play for his country once again. The possibility of that is too grim for you to take after everything he’s been through in the past.

The surgery is successful, thank goodness, and you take a few days off to devote yourself fully to his care. Ben insists that he can ask his parents to come down or one of his mates, feeling guilty that you have to use your vacation time, but you won’t hear of it. You can’t imagine not being here for him at this time.

The day after his operation, Ben’s parents drive down to London to visit. You’ve actually only met them once before, when they were in town for a visit during the summer. Due to Ben’s busy schedule, he doesn’t get home as much as he would like, but they come to London to see him and watch him play as much as they can.

“Ben, sweetie,” you say gently as you enter the dark bedroom.

The pain meds have made him particularly drowsy, and you want to encourage that rest as much possible, so you got him set up in the main floor guest room for the morning while you cleaned his house to make it presentable for his parents. You’ve been living off takeout since his injury and way too tired to clean up after the both of you after waking up with him throughout the night to get him his pain meds or a fresh ice pack.

Ben stirs slightly as you sit next to him and run your fingers through his hair.

“D’you need to change the bandages again?”

“No, babe, not yet,” you tell him. “Your mum just texted, they’re almost here.”

He nods drowsily and sits up, grimacing as he does so. You help him put on a t-shirt and some comfy basketball shorts and grab his crutches so he can make his way into the living room.

His parents arrive a few minutes later. His mum, Sally, comes prepared with all of Ben’s favourite foods, and his dad, Wayne, suggests they put on a rugby match. You know that watching sports is how he and his dad bond, and you appreciate that he had the sense not to put on a football game - especially since Chelsea is playing today in their first match since the injury.

You make everyone some tea and bring it into the living room along with the biscuits Sally made. While Ben’s parents are happily chatting away and updating him on his sister’s uni application process and how his grandparents are doing, he barely says a word - he just sips his tea and stares down at the thick bandages and brace on his knee, a reminder of how long it will be before he’s back to doing what he loves.

“Ben, do you want some more tea?” you ask after he’s finished his cup, gently placing a hand on his arm.

“No, I’m fine,” he mumbles, not making eye contact with you or reciprocating your touch.

Although he was quite clingy and wanted you as close to him as possible when he was still coming down from the anesthesia, he’s been a bit distant toward you since. You can’t blame him, knowing how much pain he’s in both physically and mentally, but it still hurts a bit. You’ve never seen this side of him before, not even after a tough loss.

“Y/N, would you join me in the kitchen for a moment?” Sally asks with a small smile.

You nod and follow her into the other room, pouring both of you another cup before sitting down at the kitchen island and burying your head in your hands when you think she’s not looking.

When Sally turns around, you try to plaster a fake smile on, but it’s pretty clear that she’s not buying it.

“Are you alright, dear?” she asks you in a motherly tone.

“Yeah,” you say, maybe a bit too quickly to be believable. “It’s just been hard to see him like this.”

Sally nods sympathetically. “I can’t thank you enough for taking such good care of him, Y/N.“

There’s a pause as she comes and sits on the stool next to you.

“He can be…difficult when he’s injured,” Sally continues, lowering her voice. “The last bad one, when he missed the World Cup, that took quite the toll on him.”

You nod, your heart aching for him even more.

“I just wish I could take it away,” you confess. “I hate that anything is standing in the way of his dreams. He’s so talented and he’s such a good person and I just…”

As you trail off, there’s a smile on Sally’s face, and she reaches out to grab and squeeze your hand.

“I can see why my son loves you so much,” she says sincerely. “He’s incredibly lucky to have you, and he knows it. So if he’s ever acting like a bit of a prick, just remember he’s upset with the situation, not with you, alright?”

You nod and blink back the tears that had begun to form in your eyes, smiling back at Ben’s mum.

“Thank you, Sally.”

-

While you try to take Ben’s mother’s words to heart, knowing that you can trust the woman who raised him, things seem to be getting worse as Ben starts to heal.

Although he’s incredibly reliant on you for the first week and a half, needing your help showering and moving upstairs, he starts to become a bit more agile on his crutches as the pain goes from agonizing to bearable.

Since it’s clear that he’s feeling slightly better, and has even begun to see the Chelsea physio, you decide that it might be good for him to socialize a bit. He’s an outgoing guy and he’s used to seeing his mates every day, and lately the only people he sees are you and his medical team.

While you’re driving him home from his three-week checkup, at which he was cleared to start bearing partial weight on his leg as tolerated, you suggest having some of the boys over later.

“They’ve got training,” Ben mutters.

“Not in the evenings,” you point out. “I know Mase wants to see you, and I’m sure Christian and Reece would-“

“I don’t feel like it,” he snaps.

You drop the subject for the remainder of the drive, ignoring his bitter tone and the way he doesn’t say anything else the whole way home.

The next day, you have to go into the office. You’ve been working from home as much as possible to make sure you’re there if Ben needs anything, but you have an important meeting that requires your presence.

When you get home - well, to Ben’s, but you’ve only been to your flat to get some clothes since his injury - you are greeted by Oscar at the door, but are surprised that Ben isn’t at his usual spot on the couch.

Confused and a bit worried, you make your way upstairs and enter the bedroom. When he isn’t in bed either, you feel significantly more worried, calling out his name.

He doesn’t answer, so you try the bathroom, the gaming room, another bedroom - all empty. Finally, you open the door to his home gym, the last place you wanted to find him.

He’s sitting on the floor next to the treadmill, a few weights next to him, sweat on his forehead.

You feel your blood begin to boil with rage, but you try to restrain yourself from yelling at him.

“What are you doing in here?” you demand, putting a hand in your hip.

Finally noticing your presence, Ben takes his earphones out and looks up at you.

“Just a light workout,” he mutters as if he hasn’t done anything wrong.

“A light workout?” you ask incredulously. “Ben, you’re only supposed to be walking a few steps at a time and with assistance. You should not be working out, definitely when I’m not home.”

Ben refuses to look you in the eye, fiddling with the hem of his shorts.

“I’m serious!” you continue, walking closer to him. “You could injure yourself again or at the very least slow down your recovery-“

“Y/N, I’ve gone through injuries before,” Ben retorts. “I’ll be fine. I’m done sitting around doing nothing-“

“You tore your ACL less than a month ago, Ben! You need time to heal.”

“Do you think I don’t know that?” he snaps. “Trust me, I’m well aware that my bloody knee is messed up yet again and I’m stuck at home for god knows how long, I don’t need you telling me what to do.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry for taking care of you when you’re hurt,” you snap back. “Sorry for trying to prevent you from making your injury worse, for supporting you-“

“By treating me like a fucking child who can’t take care of himself.”

Ben seems to know he crossed a line by the look on your face the moment he said it. Your heart drops in your chest at the cruelty your boyfriend is showing you right now - he’s never said anything nearly this hurtful to you before.

You begin to walk away out of fear that you’ll start crying in front of him, and you can hear him trying to get up behind you.

“Y/N, wait - ow, fuck-“

Despite how angry you are with him, you can’t ignore his grunts of pain as he attempts to stand up, having obviously overdone it today.

You can barely stand to look at him, but you still offer him a hand and help him hobble over to the bench, setting his crutches up on the wall next to him.

“Yeah, you clearly don’t need my help,” you scoff, shaking your head. “I’m going home. Call one of your mates if you need help. Maybe they won’t treat you like a ‘fucking child’.”

Although you can hear him calling out for you, you keep walking, slamming the front door behind you and running to the car as your tears blend with the rain pouring down outside.

tagging: @xjval​  (just let me know if anyone else would like to be tagged in upcoming chapters!)

next chapter 💙

[too-much-sunshine]

Finished the most recent chapter, and as an aroacespec person myself, I was so comforted by the slow and natural progression you've given Scar and Grians relationship in this. I'm inclined to physical affection myself, and that's something frequently excluded in pairings that people write as aroace/qpr adjacent. A lot of times they're always considered strictly romantic, but the way you've written this feels so right in the sense of Queerplatonic, as you mentioned you intended originally in the notes. I just wanted to say thank you for that! Reading how they hold each other and comfort one another (wont go into detail, as to not spoil ch26 for anyone reading this) just clicks in a way that's Their Connection, and it doesn't feel like it's trying to or needs to be anything else. It's so content, and it makes me feel so warm to see that in a fic with two characters I resonate with a lot.

Not to mention the plot- omg, I've been fawning over it all week! My favorite moment I think is definitely the kitchen scene with Iskall and Scars little standoff- the visual was so sassy and queer from Scars end, it just made me cackle to no end I absolutely loved the attitude. But really, I try not to theorize too much when reading stories that way every turn feels like a huge shock, and this fic keeps my attention so well I didn't even have the chance to, I was far too busy enjoying every little flair of dialogue and fluid change of scenario. I literally gasped and yelled "OH /SHIT/" aloud multiple times, I'm not embarassed to say it. There are so many details you kept so quaint and innocent at the beginning, I never even questioned them until their importance later on!

This story has been absolutely, insanely, phenomenally fun to read, and I can't wait to see where you take things next. I've been planning my own fic for ages, and reading something like this has really inspired me to pick up my pages and keep going. I hope you have a wonderful day, and that you have a lot of fun working on the rest of the story! I know I'm dying to read the next chapter whenever you feel it's right to show, and others will be too :).

Much love!

- minecraft-cake

OH MY GODS IM GONNA CRYYYY (/pos) TOO LATE I AM CRYINGGGG TTTTTTT AAAaaaa this means so much to me TTTT ASDFGHJK

Ive said it before, and I'll say it again: I started writing WOftL because I wanted to read something like it, but it hadnt been written. Not only in the superhero space (even tho I am a bit a whore for superhero fics UuU) but also just aspec wise. Im arospec/ace, and I just felt it wasnt being represented in a way the resonated with me!! So I wrote it myself <3

Im so glad that it resonates with others as well! I really hope that deciding to change the relationship romantic doesnt takes away from that! I feel like, personally, it doesnt change their background and their connection for each other. I certainly dont plan to have them act much differently then they do now lmaooo

Ommffggg you are so nicceee TTTTTT If Im forced to say one thing I'm proud of for this fic, i'd say the foreshadowing turned out much better then I expected lmaooo This is my first looongg fic, so I really happy with that turned out!! I have so much I can say about specific scenes and how they came to be in my brain!!! But for specifically Iskall and Scar, I loved how their little plot came out! Those two have History UuU

Thank you so much for reading and the kind wordsss!! This seriously made my whole week and its only monday!! Im so happy to have inspired you, and if your willing to share I would love to read your fic when you write it! I hoep you have a phenonial day, week, month, year and life bestie <3<3<3<3

[reserved-system]

February Stars [HSBB]

Picture this, you're on a losing streak in life. Maybe you're having car troubles, just got dumped, or you bombed that test you thought you studied well enough for. Some time passes someone new is introduced into your friend group and at first you don't click, maybe you have a few interests in common, sure but it's like you only manage to see them at parties. You stop partying for a bit to get yourself back together and a close friend reaches out and invites you to their party, and you decide fuck it and go. During the party, you notice that friend from the group you don't know very well and decide to take a chance.

Now you may be left asking, what happens next? I guess you'll just have to read the wonderful fic this piece is based on!

[Link here!]

Hope did a wonderful job and tugged at my heart strings a little bit (/pos) and above all else had us cracking up the entire time we worked with them and the rest of our team! Let's go show them some love, shall we? Yet another massive shout out to the mods and admins for putting this event together! Check out the #hsbb 2023 tag for more works and fics like this!

Extras under cut - Wips, rambles, the whole nine yards, you know the drill!

GOSH. I don't know where to begin! How about with some stats?

This piece seems like it didn't take us as long as the first piece did because we actually scrapped our original piece and opened a new canvas. So over the roughly 2 month span, this is how we're looking!

Then we get to move on the the original sketch <3 So what I was going for was the ending scene when they're laying in the grass holding hands and Jimmy is talking to Tango. So this piece is a top down view which I've never attempted before so it was interesting trying to figure that out!!

ALSO. You can see us here playing around with our new art style ;^]

My one regret with the piece is I wish we kept the canvas zoomed in to the point all throughout the piece. You can tell where we zoomed in a lil too close by the thinner line weight in some areas but other than that I still like it. I loved working with the thicker lines.

So we once again failed to get any in progress shots of the background, just some shots in between the shading and the back lighting.

Colors colors colors! You can actually see Tango has a different facial expression in these. We played around with in for a few days until we found something we liked. You can also see us play around with other colors too.

And one last shot to appreciate the shading. <3

And now, bloopers!

Just a small collection of concept sketches from our first, scraped piece! It would've shown the rest of the backyard, porch, and Ren partying in the background.

Anyways, thank you for reading our rambles! Whether you're here from a reblog, from the fic itself, or were already following us. I hope you enjoyed! Be sure to keep your eyes peeled for the rest of our pieces for the event.

From the Reserved System, Happy HSBB everyone!! <3 <3 <3

[techsarah]

The Unexpectedly Cool Life of a POS Machine

Hey, Tumblr fam! 👋

Let’s talk about something that sounds totally boring but is actually cooler than your last smartphone: POS machine!

Yeah, you heard me right. Point of Sale machines. Those things you swipe your card on when you’re buying that extra latte you swore you didn’t need. ☕💳

💡 Why POS Machines Are Basically the Superheroes of Retail

Once upon a time, they were just cash registers. Ding! Cha-ching! Boring. But these days? Oh, they’re practically running the world (of retail). I mean, they know more about your shopping habits than your mom. 😅

Fun Fact #1: That POS system you just used? It also knows how many people before you bought the same overpriced latte. It’s keeping tabs on us all—creepy, but efficient!

Fun Fact #2: POS systems are so smart now, they could probably predict the exact moment you’ll cave and buy those impulse items at checkout. They’ve mastered the art of “Oh, just one more thing...” 🎯

🚀 The Modern POS System: Retail’s Batman

In today’s world, a POS system isn’t just for swiping cards and printing receipts. Oh no, now it’s helping businesses manage their entire life. It’s like Batman—except instead of Gotham, it’s protecting store owners from inventory nightmares and sad spreadsheets. Here’s what they do:

Inventory Guru: That shirt you wanted in blue? POS systems knew it’d sell out before you did. 🧐

Customer Detective: It remembers your coffee order from last week—how did it know you’d come back after saying you’d “never set foot in this place again”?

Ultimate Multitasker: These systems are basically running the show while everyone else is on a lunch break. Where’s their Employee of the Month award?!

The Future: Will POS Systems Rule the World?

Honestly, it’s possible. With the way things are going, your favorite cafe’s POS machine might know you better than your barista. 😆 Next time you pay for something, give that little POS screen a nod of appreciation. You never know, it might be the beginning of a beautiful, tech-driven friendship.

Stay tuned, I’ve got more ridiculous tech musings coming your way! And if your POS machine starts making jokes back at you, don’t say I didn’t warn you. 😜

[mynameisnotsoda]

YES PLEASE INFODUMP ON THE PISS SMP, I SAW AN INSTA POST YOU MADE IF IT AND I WANNA KNOW MORE/pos

OH MY GODDD AHAHAH LETS GOOO !!! MY EVIL PLAN TO SPREAD THE PISS SMP PROPAGANDA!!!!!!!!!! Okay so

In the beginning, we werent going to do lore, it was just meant to be a server for fun! Me and my brother explored and gathered materials for a while and he ended up taming a dog! Thats where the lore starts. It all started when that damn dog died.

So, he ended up naming the dog Piss, cuz it was funny, and we were exploring more at night. Piss ended up chasing after a spider and fell into a ravine and sadly passed away. (Now in character) Cyrus laughed his ass off, Ezra (he shares a name with my brother just bc he goes by Father Piss for the rest of the series) shouted "PISS YOU FUCKING DUMBASS" and it fucked him up pretty badly even if they both played it off like joke at first.

Cyrus and Ezra settled and started building their bases, however, Ezra was actually making a church. For a while he kept cryptically laughing and saying "oh my beautiful creation" and everyone was pretty worried, of course, but no one thought anything of it. Doc went off to build their base elsewhere (across the lake from the mainland since it was a small island only disconnected by a few blocks) and Cyrus went mining.

While everyone was doing their own thing, Cyrus kept dying in The Pit. It was just a small cave entrance that was really steep and there was lava and a ton of mobs in it, he died a lot from skeletons and burning. He's had a vendetta against skeletons since then and tends to avoid the nether as much as he can. Thats how he got his burn scars.

After that, Ezra finally finished the church. Everyone was invited to the grand opening! (Although in canon only doc and cy made it, ive rewritten it to where everyone else actually came) Ezra declared himself Father Piss, bringing peace and harmony to all the lands in the name of his dog, Piss.

The only problem was.. Father Piss slipped up, it was actually a cult. Cyrus was outspoken about not wanting to be apart of the cult, Father Piss declared him a traitor and killed him. Which is the first time anyone had really lost a life. (Death by mobs/environment arent permanent but DO cause permanent damage to the body over time. Death by players are limited to three before they stay dead. AND lives are counted by red hearts on the napes of their necks, they become black when a life is lost)

When Cyrus respawned they got into another fight, also ending in death. Out of fear, Doc impulsively joined Father Piss' cul- church.

Cyrus was exiled from the Pisslands (names by Father Piss of course) and wandered around the woods for a while. He began construction on a small house in the spruce forest but overnight Father Piss and his goons found it and vandalized it. Out of fear Cyrus ran to Doc, hiding out in their home for the next night.

Thats when he got a great idea! He created the entrance to his bunker on the hill next to Doc's house, Father Piss would've never guessed he stayed so close and he was right! He spent days making that bunker and over the following weeks he just grew more paranoid and afraid of Father Piss.

Eventually, Father Piss requested to meet with Cyrus, at Piss' grave by the ravine. They met up and Cyrus was led back to the church, skeptical but too afraid of angering him to protest. He ended up being imprisoned behind the church. He spent hours talking to himself and playing with sand as it was the only thing left in his inventory. He was scheduled to be executed the next day, however Cosmic busted him out! Laying down her first life for him to be able to get away.

Cyrus then decided to make a second bunker, connected by a LONG tunnel for him to escape through if needed. He spent months making it, he kept a nether portal in the second bunker and tamed a dog that Argent named Swaginator. His friends didnt visit him often, apart from Doc or Argent. He rarely left but when he did it was ALWAYS to see Doc, the love of his life. He was so clouded by anxiety that he wasn't able to be there for Doc. Doc was dealing with their own problems from within the church, not wanting to do Father Piss' bidding and unable to leave.

This put a strain on their relationship, but Cyrus really did try to make an effort. He began experiencing auditory hallucinations which only made his paranoia regarding Father Piss worse, which quickly deteriorated his mental health.

One day, he decided to go into the nether for some supplies to make his bunker look nice. He ended up running into Homeslice, one of Father Piss' goons, and he panicked. Not realizing that he hadn't been noticed he started swinging, he knew it was over as soon as the fight started. Father Piss had been alerted and the two of them cornered him to the ledge, before Father Piss swung his axe and took Cyrus' final life. His body fell into the lava pool below.

After a few days, he came back! As a ghost, he lost all his memories and the first person to see him was....Father Piss. It wasnt hard to trick him into finding his old bunker before raiding it. Ghostrus was completely unaware and blissfully complied with whatever Father Piss wanted for a while. Although he grew weary of Father Piss' instability.

Ghostrus built a house on a mountain near Doc's house and kept a close eye on them. He felt incredibly drawn to them but didnt know why, as he didnt entirely believe that they were married when he was alive.

Axel then joined, making a house on stilts in the sea, he became very close to Doc. Argent also became close to Doc, as they visited his restaurant often! Then again, it was the only restaurant and it was right next to her house. Slowly the three of them became friends and eventually partners.

Ghostrus on the other hand decided to start a taco truck, which was just a front for his drug business. He laced his tacos with coke to keep customers always coming back for more! Father Piss became hooked on his food.

More people moved into the Pisslands, the community grew and so did Argent and Ghostrus' respective businesses. He created a drug empire for himself, which gave him a lot of power. With the lack of memories and moral compass, Ghostrus created an image of himself to be the sweet and friendly taco truck owner. While behind the scenes he was a cynical and uncaring asshole.

He enjoyed the chaos that Father Piss created and became the worst version of himself for it.

AAAAAND THATS ALL WE HAVE SO FAR !!!!!! the rest is much blurrier and not concise so ill stop there, but thats the lore thats absolutely canon as of now ! Ty if you read this far :33

[the-axe-and-flail]

Look this ended up way longer and more detailed as I went on pls someone talk me out of spending the next week writing this God damned AU-

An AU where Gyomei declined Kagaya's offer to join the slayers and instead was picked up (aka sold by a crooked PO) to a guy who sailed the world procuring acts for big name circuses like B&B or Sparks. The man recognizes his unusual height and equally unusual strength, and with the help of an interpreter, he learns that Gyomei doesn't want to fight at all. The recruiter reassures him there is no actual fighting in entertainment (rather that it's all dramatization, like a Kabuki act) and he agrees, seeing no other out for himself and deciding this is the least harmful of his options.

Over the next 8 years he ends up in B&B where your family is a group of tumblers and trapeze artists. You find his strong silent type fascinating, and you love watching him train the caravan cats to do tricks like jump through hoops and balance spinning plates on their heads. Normally you'll find him in his off time training his body to peak physical form (something everyone who comes to see the strong man act is VERY aware of), but what most others miss are the moments of downtime when he's having tea or peacefully meditating, eyes closed as he soaks in the morning sunlight. His white, cloudy eyes seem to always find you when you think you can steal a glance, but he never seems to acknowledge your inquiry.

It isn't until a few months in that you're tasked with working on a new act for the tumbling floor routine that you decide it's time to get to know the seemingly gentle giant. Without any real plans in mind, you find him one morning cleaning up the equipment from his daily cat training and offer to help. He seems a bit skeptical at first, but doesn't take long to relent and even thank you for your help. He asks if you'd like to stay for tea as an offering of thanks, to which you happily accept, asking all sorts of questions about it as you see him take the small porcelain teapot and 2 small cups from a little leather box in his caravan. He explains the differences between eastern and western tea drinking, the entire while you're enamored by how precisely and delicately he holds that tiny teacup (and oh to be a teacup in those big strong hands).

You explain to him over tea about the new tumbling act you're trying to put together, and ask if he's ever thrown a person into the air the same way he hurls those tree stumps and boulders. It takes a bit of back and forth, but eventually he agrees to give it a go, though not before telling you how much he doesn't want to hurt you and please be careful. You promise that you've also trained your body to be the perfect (and safest!) acrobat you possibly could, but that his worry is really sweet and you appreciate him looking out for you. As you reached out to place your hand on his as a sign of agreement and thanks, you felt and saw his entire form stiffen slightly and immediately pull away, giving a soft apology as you do. The rest of tea time is spent enjoying the quiet sounds of the nature around you until set up begins for the afternoon.

It was a bit hard to find time and room to practice your new act, but you didn't let that stop you. Sometimes you had the interior ring to work in, other times you had to make a clearing for yourself in the woods just outside the caravan camp. Whatever your arena though, it was obvious that Gyomei was a worrier. He'd spend half of set up and stretch making sure all large rocks or fell trees were moved so nothing would accidentally harm you would he miss the catch or fumble the toss. Not that it was ever a worry of yours mind you, from the very first moment his hands wrapped around your waist to lift, to the countless times your fingers interlaced with his massive ones for stability, he'd never once given you the impression that he wasn't in complete control.

It was almost a wonder in and of itself, really. You knew he was blind, as they announced it at the beginning of his more dangerous acts, but he never really seemed like he couldn't see. He could catch axes thrown at him out of the air, he could hit a mark on the dime with a whip or throwing dagger. Time and time again he'd wow audiences with his ability to balance on a single foot, holding several hundred pounds of longs on his shoulders while jumping from pole to pole. It was clear this man was anything but ordinary, never faltering in his step or routine for even a moment.

Maybe that's why you felt so comfortable with him holding your life in his hands. When you would mess up a flip or over rotate a turn, he was there to course correct and catch, regardless of how far off target you were. It was addictive in its own way- crashing into his strong chest only to be a moment later wrapped in his arms as he slowly lowered you to the ground. The deep hum of his chest as he sighed in relief knowing you were safely on soil again. You on the other had would giggle, the rush of adrenaline a long held family favorite. You'd immediately be speaking plans for how to fix your mistake and asking if he was okay for another round, not quite noticing the dusting of pink on his ears as you spoke.

It was becoming a topic of discussion around the caravans as well- everyone noticed your breakfast tea time before warm-ups and set up/tear downs. They also noticed how even in down time you two gravitated towards each other, helping with tasks and chores, doing your washing together, even taking meals together when able. Some of the other acts even starting watching your practices, enthralled by just how high he could toss you, how gracefully you maneuvered in the air, and how deftly his catches and precision your balance was. The clowns in particular became a regular audience, always willing to cheer you on and offer fun suggestions to spice the act. For the most part it was silly or unhinged hinged things like doing the act in your knickers so you could charge triple (to which you swear your saw Gyomei fluster a bit, followed by a roar of laughter from the painted crew).

It wasn't until the night of your first show that you'd really felt nervous. This was the first act you'd ever put together without the help of your family, and you couldn't help but wonder if it was entertaining enough to really make it to the regular acts. Sure it featured one of the most popular acts of the circus, but would you be enough to pull your own weight, or would Gyomei end up shouldering it all like so many of his other features? It was enough to make your heart pound (and not in the good way) and hands tremble. Luckily for you Gyomei had spent the better part of the last 3 months getting to know your body very well, and could hear and sense the disturbance in your mood.

"Everything will go as it always has. You will be strong and precise, as you always have." His words were spoken softly, but the conviction in them was obvious. "And I will always be there to catch you." A phrase so simple it could easily pass for a quiet kindness, but the large calloused hand that tenderly held your face was a siren. Your whole body was a fire, at the mercy of his rains, and all you could do was stand there and soak in the warmth of his palm as your heart screamed at you to move.

A second later the lights were on you as the music blared, Windjammers blasting the march you knew by soul now. For the first time you looked up to see Gyomei with a gentle, genuine smile as he stepped back and held his hand out to you, waiting for the moment you started the routine. With the loud roar from the packed stands, you rushed into him as his hands wrapped around your waist, wasting no time before skillfully tossing you up, wrapping his fingers with yours as you balanced in his palms. Tossed through hoops of fire, over dangerously deep drops, and at heights unheard of, you wowed the cheering stands as time and time again your near death was evaded at the last possible second by your resident strong man. His grip was safety, his white eyes all seeing, and his precision impeccable. In the security of his catches, you were free to fly at impossible heights and perform stunts you'd only ever dreamed of as a child watching your parents on the highwires. And as the music came to a crescendo, your heart damn near beating out of your chest, you looked down to see his focused expression turn to one of tempered joy as he braced for your final catch. A moment later, the music hit its end as you were hoised above Gyomei's head in a spit handstand, balancing only on his single palm.

Cheers erupted, nearly deafening you as the two of you took bow after bow, backing out of the main ring as your personal cheer squad clowns gave rushed congratulations and praise as they flooded the stage for their own act.

"That was amazing!!" You gasped, hardly believing you'd just pulled off something so magnificent. The adrenaline in your system burning with the need for more.

"You were perfect. Just as I said you'd be." His deep voice reverberating through you despite the rushing of your pulse in your ears.

"And you caught me, just like you said you would." Oh to be able to see the smile on your face in this moment as you grinned from ear to ear. But he didn't need to see it, he could hear it in your voice and sense it in your heartbeat; the heat of your hands as you grabbed his was the definitive marker.

"And I always will." Despite the band and the crowd, despite how softly it had been spoken, it was clear as crystal. The large hands once again come to cup your face, this time followed by the sensation of his lips so perfectly meeting yours. His fingertips tracing the sides of your face as your own hands grip the collar of his uniform, both of you a tangle in the night as a blanket of blinding lights and music shields you from prying eyes, tucked behind the big top.

[butterscotchblues]

203.

on friday i went to AA and got my six month chip. a few weeks late, sure, but it still felt good. most of the people at that particular meeting have been sober for a very long time so they're pretty hype when a new sober person starts hitting milestones.

funny, i've been going to that same meeting for like 5 years on and off and this is the first time i've received any chip that wasn't the white one.

got there when everyone was sharing stories about how chaotic their drinking lives were. the host is an elderly black man--talks like an amalgamation of every southern uncle or deacon. he kept laughing every few sentences and saying "a lot of us should be dead". like.. he kept saying it lmao.

i disagree but i get it.

i've always considered myself a pretty chill person. and i'm sure a lot of folx would agree. but when i think about the shit i'd get into when i was drinking... well the lies ran deep.

i couldn't begin to count all of the times i found myself drunk as shit out alone in the dead of night or the early hours of the morning. how many times i've LEFT my home at 3am because my favorite bar didn't close til 4. it really used to feel like i had no control. like there was some unseeable force pulling and pushing me at all times. and it wasn't just the dangerous kinda chaos. it was the stupid kind and the thoughtless kind too. but i digress.

i think i'm only able to see myself, really, since i've quit. and when i sit in those AA rooms, usually as one of the youngest people there, and those folx start talking about having 20/30/40 year drinking careers, it puts things into perspective.

truly can't imagine living like that for decades. as in multiples of ten???

left AA with my lil chip and a handful of "congratulations" from the senior white folx and then pulled up at sevananda. been wanting to make my own almond milk for a while now. the energy in sev is almost always welcoming (especially if you don't work there). love seeing all the locs and fros and linen clothing and copper ankh jewelry lol.

the cashier was sweet and bubbly. caught me off guard when they started flirting. i hadn't been flirted with by a stranger in some time, i really don't be leaving the house like that lol. but it was cute.

left with my whole almonds and cheescloth, giddy for the creation to come, and drove to the decatur cemetary. bug randomly remembered that they have a huge pile of mulch there and she was right. so i grabbed two trashbags and filled them up.

sn: really enjoying gardening.

my next door neighbor came home while i was putting down the mulch and after i asked her for a rake to borrow, we got to talking about gardening. i noticed they had hella plants in a bed at the back of their yard and when i asked what they were growing, she named just about every vegetable growable in georgia lol. how inspiring. wonder if they'd be down to give me some tips.

pulled up on my plug a little later because he made me some thc oil. i really don't like smoking anymore but tree has been helping me sleep and alleviating my wrist pain. so edibles and tinctures are my favorites at the moment. he whipped me up a brownie pan worth of coconut oil and the shit is po-tent. very cool of him.

anyway, i guess i just wanted to remember friday. because it was a good friday. and i'm grateful.

[iamthecomet]

Hoot!

(Finally replying, heh)

I honestly really hope that the meds will work too. I‘ll keep on taking the same ones I take now and take the other ones in addition, but they actually benefit? each other (as in, both probably will work better when taken together)

I‘ll most likely start tomorrow, but it will take 4-6 weeks for them to actually make something change. And also my symptoms of like dizziness and headaches will likely get worse at the beginning (this will get better over time tho)

They can also make you feel more suicidal in the beginning (which is because they make you more aware, including more aware of problems) but that also gets better after those 4-6 weeks when the actual effects set in (the new one is a kind of antidepressant)

So like, I’m pretty nervous about that

Yeah, going outside is pretty good but also hella hard to do. Sometimes my friends manage to drag me along, which I very much appreciate (they also need to go slower when we go somewhere by bike because of me, but they do that without ever complaining, for which I’m very thankful).

And you‘re so right. In the past, I’ve sometimes not treated them very kindly because of my insecurities and how I’m scared of being a burden, which is also why I isolate myself a lot, but whenever I feel a little less bad they always welcome me with open arms (they‘re also the reason I can watch movies/series, because 2 of them are so aware of my phobias that they will make me feel safe whenever something triggering happens. It’s literally so damn good, because when I’m watching with them, I can actually enjoy watching without being constantly scared that something triggering could possibly happen)

Also seriously, the way one of them immediately offers her hand for me to squeeze while simultaneously covering my eyes is just the sweetest thing ever

But like, there are other good news I think!

I‘ve been thinking about using a cane for at least months now. I sometimes feel very dizzy, to the point of pre-syncope (even though I never actually fainted before) and especially in the past few days, I feel even more unstable when walking than I usually do. I‘m very scared to go outside, especially on my own and just really don‘t feel safe. And especially during disability pride month, people where explaining what mobility aids can be helpful for what, and dizziness was often mentioned for canes.

And I honestly really think that it would help me a lot, and give me a sense of standing/walking more safely.

I always wanted to wait because I was/am scared that I’m just telling myself all that because I want a cane to get attention.

But my dear ex roommate (and one of the sweetest people alive) actually was like “well if you‘d benefit from it, who cares even if would be partly for attention? What about attention is so bad?“

And I think that they are very right. (They also added that canes do look cool as hell and they are also very right about that. I cannot wait to put stickers all over mine if I actually get one)

So on the next appointment I’ll have with my doctor, I’ll ask her if I can get a prescription for a cane.

Oh god, this got long again. Sorry about that

At least it included a lot of (pretty) positive things I think

At least for me, engaging a lot in fandom content helped me with my post-Ritual depression (as far as it was related to that cause I got regular depression going on as well xD)

But it seems like you‘ve been doing that /pos

~ @owlishanon

Finally digging this out of my drafts SORRY! ♥ I'm so glad things have been looking up! I hope that your meds aren't too hard on you during the adjustment period, and that your side effects are minimal. I'm glad you're friends have been so supportive, and are so good to you. I've probably already said it, but real friends are going to be there for you no matter what--they love all of you (even the not as fun parts) and I'm glad you have some like that. I'm with your ex-roomate on the cane stuff. If it's going to help you, you should do it. Who cares what other people think. If it makes you feel safer, more stable, you shouldn't hesitate to get one. I hope that your conversation with your Dr. about it goes well and you can get one and that it helps! Lots of love to you, I hope things are still going well!