#potato plays aa

[cocopubpotato]

i finished dgs2

there is now a void

[chuthulhu-plays]

I generally watch LPs of horror games bc I'm too anxious to actually play them but a lot of them have FANTASTIC stories, so sometimes I just binge-watch KrinxTV for background noise. Been watching a lot of playthroughs of Still Wakes The Deep because it's such a delight to hear Scottish voice actors get work and I thought I'd address some questions I keep seeing Let's Players ask:

--Adair is a member of the National Front as you can find out from posters in his cabin, a Neo-Fascist British political party that’s been going since the sixties. While it often preaches British ethnic unity, in practice that often means “everybody in the UK should be exactly like East End Londerners” and features plentiful disdain for Scottish, Irish, and Welsh folk, alongside those perceived as “not British”. No wonder the wanker eats alone in the canteen.

--Neeps and Tatties=turnips and potatoes, mashed, drenched in butter or sauce. Fills your belly, keeps you warm, probably makes you sink like a stone because it’s so heavy.

--Cranachan=a dessert made of raspberries, honey, cream and oats, absolutely delicious

--Rennick calls Caz a “wee ned prick”. Ned is apocryphally said to stand for “non-educated delinquent” and is basically just a way of calling someone an uneducated, lower-class criminal

--A lot of things said by and about Roy indicate that he’s a teetotaller who went through AA and specifically became Catholic and is making an effort at converting Caz.

--I think it’s entertaining how Scottish nicknames often follow a pattern of shortening/rejiggering that I also see a lot with Australian nicknames—Cameron becomes Caz, Rafferty becomes Raffs, etc. Trots is an unusual one but is almost certainly a reference to him being a communist, presumably a Trotskyist. Gibbo is also an unusual one in that it’s just very silly. There’s a kind of indignity implied in being killed by a guy called Gibbo.

--A few times on the radio you hear the Shipping Forecast, a type of weather report aimed at specifically reporting weather conditions out on the ocean, and is also famous for the report being read in such a calm, soothing tone that some folk use it as a sleep aid.

--All the yellow paint for interactable things is very video gamey, yes, but is also in line with old British health and safety standards, and yellow paint on things like emergency ladders or on the edges of stairs that are trip hazards is a thing ou can still see in some older buildings.

--Caz keeps saying he’s “good with the leccy”; leccy=electricity. Caz is implied to be quite a wee guy who can get through a lot of tight spaces, and my uncle swears blind that electricians used to refuse to take on apprentices over a certain size because they only wanted to train wee guys who could get up into the tight spaces that a lot of older buildings are full of. On that note, “wee man” is a term of endearment, generally, and isn’t exclusively applied to short guys.

--Finlay saying of Gibbo that “he’s no right” is INCREDIBLY OMINOUS. It sounds mild but “he’s no right, that boy” is what older folk say about a child who’s been found disembowelling cats for fun or someone they strongly suspect is a pedophile. It’s not something you’d say about a friend who’s just acting a bit unusually.

– “Great minds united over a Buckie”--Buckfast, or Buckie, is a caffienated tonic wine that’s cheap, widely accessible, and is a bit like rocket fuel for bad decisions.

– “Ya roaster” tbh I don’t really know where it comes from, calling someone a roaster, but I’ve always felt like it has a vibe of telling them they’re huffing their own farts.

--Scunnert/scunnered--buggered, screwed, utterly fucked, etc

– “You’re the jammiest bastart on this rig” Someone who is jammy is someone who has incredible luck that is implied to be related to their sheer confidence or willingness to engage in risky behaviour. Walking along the street and finding a pound coin isn’t jammy; crossing the road confident that the cars won’t hit you and stopping in the middle to pick up a pound coin before making it unscathed to the other side is jammy as all hell.

--Barlinnie is the biggest prison in Scotland, and largely hosts violent offenders��it’s where Caz would definitely go for hospitalizing a man.

--Weans are children (contraction of wee yins/wee ones). I thought this one was contextually obvious but apparently not.

SPOILERS BELOW

--”One spark and the whole thing’ll go up”—this is referring to the wee spark of flame in the lighter used to blow up the rig, but is also kind of a pun because electricians are often called sparks or sparkies, and in the end it’s Caz who blows up the rig.

[vegasicilia]

My bad, I forgot I had autism.

So, big f*cking week at work. Very f**king big week. I crushed it. I rose to the opportunity and finished better than anyone thought a project of mine at work. Boss huged me. Parents said they were proud. My LinkedIn was soaring. I was happy. I'm still happy.

I spent a whole week being more social, more hyperactive, more organized and more talkative than ever. I met people after people and made small talk. I f*cking orchestrated, directed and executed an event I had been planning for since May. Working 13 hours a day for 3 days. I FREAKING KILLED IT. All while going to the gym, keeping my diet in check and taking care of myself (bedroom clean, teeth brushed, nails clean, beard shaven).

Side note, for you my readers (is anyone reading this?). There's a thing I haven't told you officially, my dear Tumblr blog, and that is that I have a big fat autistic brain with ADHD sprinkles on top. And since I didn't know about any of this since I was 20, years have passed and my subconscious stil thinks I don't have autism and ADHD and that I can just function as a normal human being.

Back to the main story, an hour after the event was done and everyone was going home, it hit me. Like a train. My regular delusion that I can be a normal person for extended periods of time came to an end faster than I can say "autism". Like a freaking tsunami had reached my shore, I broke down at a friends house and slept for 12h straight. My brain had had enough. Dopamine wasn't flowing. Adrenaline rush was gone. My frontal cortex announced early retirement as I said goodbye to the few people who stayed until the very end.

I was down on my friends's sofa for about half a day. I thought that would be it, that I would get home and go to work the next day and everything would be fine. But it was not. I've spent the last few days as a zombie, walking around the office as if anything around me had anything to do with me. I came home at the end of my 9 to 5 to have dinner at 7 and be in bed by 8-9 every day. I stopped going to the gym, I couldn't care less about my diet and my skincare has stopped. And I can't do anything about it. I just don't care. I can't make myself care.

I have to stand aside as my brain repeats the cycle again: work hard & play hard until you can't take it anymore. And it's not something I can't really control. My roomates don't understand why I'm home so much and I'm not out and about all day like always. My friends reach out to hang but I just wanna wear my new pajamas and watch the new Doctor Who special (it was awesome btw, love you David Tennant)

I need recharging, but it feels like the world is made only for Duracell AA batteries I'm a potato in salt water trying to power a Tesla in the highway.

[secret-smut-sideblog]

As It Was

Gale x F! Tav

(AA break up series, part 11, final)

18+ domestic bliss, restraint, oral (f!), breast worship (f!), rimming (f!), squirting, forced orgasm, confrontations, battle, self sacrifice, amputation (explicit), grief release, hurt/comfort, feelings of undeserving, tenderness

All out of time, Tav must save her lost love from himself. With a warm hand at her back, and shaking fear in her heart, will her sacrifice be worth the cost?...

Masterlist, Prev Chapter

-

She had to tell him. She knew she did.

"Mmm," Gale hummed, pleased. Her hands coming up to his chest. Pressing her body into his back. "And a good morning to you too."

She couldn't put it off any longer. It would be irresponsible.

Pressing her nose into his spine, she nuzzled in. Hands cupping his pecs.

"Careful there," He laughed, a slight hitch in his voice. "I've got hot oil up here."

If she could just get one more night with all of her limbs tangled endlessly in his.

If she could just show him how much he meant to her, how deeply she wanted him to feel loved. Maybe that would be enough.

Giving him one small love bite on his shoulder, she relented for now.

"No biting!" He admonished.

She play growled and pulled his forearm into her teeth.

"Drop it!"

She kicked her feet at him, laughing loudly as he tried to pinch at her sides.

The fight went to the floor, her gasping out a shrieking laugh as he caught her ribs in a tickle.

Locking her legs around his, she drug her tongue up his forearm obscenely.

"Okay, that's it!" He dove into the side of her neck, rubbing his beard into her.

"No!" She shrieked, trying to twist away.

Quiet laughter shook his chest. Both of them relaxing into a tangle on the cool tile.

He held the back of her head, kissing her deeply.

"I adore you and would love to kiss you on a dirty floor for much longer. But breakfast is burning."

"Breakfast is stupid."

"An absurd and frankly, hurtful statement."

He gave her one small kiss on the forehead, pulling her up with him.

Hopping up on the counter, she leaned back into the cabinets. Picking up a peeled potato and turning it in her hands.

What do you need to tell me, Tav?

She sighed.

Was it that obvious?

Well, groping is usually followed by heavy subjects.

She shot him a smile, which he returned. Flipping the contents of the skillet.

You're going to try to talk me out of it.

Oh, most definitely. Show me anyway.

She bit her lip, then turned towards him. Closing her eyes and opening her mind.

She showed him everything. The deal she had made, the plan already fully formed. The supplies. The steps. The price.

His hands came to lean on the sides of the stove, shoulders hunched over. Head down.

It was quiet besides the sizzling of food.

For once, he closed his mind off to hers, and that made her more scared than she had been in a long time.

Rubbing a hand over his face, he took a deep breath.

"Okay."

She looked up at him in shock.

"What?"

"I'm not fool enough to think I can stop you, and I'd rather be there than not. If you're going to do this, you're going to need help. Especially with the first part."

She brought his hand to her mouth, kissing his knuckles softly.

Thank you.

After breakfast, she led him wordlessly upstairs. They both understood the weight. That this was the last time as they both were. If things went wrong; ever.

An endless spinning blue light surrounded her, lifting her hair like water.

He kissed her with the deepest passion she had ever felt, pouring over her body in molten waves.

His magic started lifting her off of her feet, bone deep pulling pleasure. Her head fell back and he lifted higher, fingers arcing up.

She fell back suspended in air, moaning and arching.

What little clothes she wore were pulled away by mage hands. One clawed hand running nails down her thigh.

Then he was everywhere, between her legs, against both of her breasts, against her asshole. Wet. Lapping. Suckling.

It was so much. The discipline of his mouth in quadruple. Pulsing both of her peaks, sucking undulating waves into her clit, tight circles against her hole. Slick already pooling down her backside.

She writhed as he circled her, hands conducting. Burning fingertips sweeping and arching. Pushing and pulling. Beckoning and forbidding.

Fully at his mercy she reached out for something, anything, to ground her.

"Please, ugh!-" A hard swirl against her asshole. "Gale!"

Her pleas were not answered. His phantom mouths only working faster.

Mage hands forced her legs open, two holding her arms down.

Only able to arch and twist fruitlessly, her eyes rolled back. Panting and drooling. Completely lost.

His solid hands found her thighs between his mage ones. Lifting her up to his mouth.

His corporeal mouth finally met her, pushing his tongue inside her cunt.

"Fuck!" She tried to reach for his hair but the mage hands held her in place.

Five mouths assaulting her now, she pleaded out nonsense words. Tears streaming down the side of her face. A near unbearable orgasm about to hit.

"I can't take it! Oh Gods!"

You can.

A fifth mage hand gripped into her hair, pulling her head back taut.

And you will.

Her body twisted, a full body orgasm ripping her apart. Vision going blurry. Mouth falling open into a silent scream, then a shriek pulled deep from her core. Hips bucking. Straining against his many holds. A wave of fluid striking his jaw. Every part of her tremoring, her own private earthquake.

He held his palm out flat and directed her limp body to their bed.

Her head lolled, watching him climb down to her. Kissing gently against her face, her fingers, the tips of her ears.

Words completely lost she just smiled lovesick at him.

Mustering the last of the useless puddle of her mind she formed the only thought she could for him.

I love you. I love you. I love you, Gale.

He buried his face into her shoulder, settling between her legs. Holding her lifeline into him.

Please. Please say it again.

She chanted it to him, a hymn that formed into a wave of feeling she washed over him.

He trembled against her, overcome.

Standing outside of the castle, she stared up at that distant window. The same that she had watched light in crashing pursuit, anger flared and spitting. The same that she had held his weeping curled body.

It had always been here, there was nowhere else to end this.

Gale's hand held steady to her lower back.

She smiled. That was the greatest difference.

She wasn't alone.

The witching hour was upon them, and she had to take the steps.

Working backwards she went from balcony, to ballroom, to hidden hallway.

Slow. Deliberate.

Meeting no resistance she knew he was waiting. In the dust laden grave of their love.

Pushing inside, she closed the door softly behind her.

His body was silhouetted in the moonlit window. Standing expectantly, hands leaning back on the vanity.

"So you're darkening my doorway again, are you pet?"

"Are you disappointed?"

"Oh, to the contrary." He stepped closer, a viper moving through grass.

"I have been absolutely salivating thinking of you submitting yourself to me. Finally where you belong."

"Funny, I think the reason why you want me is because I defy you. But you will never admit that to yourself."

As intended, he moved closer. Anger bristling along his back.

"Your insolence has been the bane of my reign."

Crimson eyes pouring rage.

"You. Are. Mine." He hissed, eyes starting to burn out red. "Understood?"

"Oh, absolutely." She smiled, back foot sliding out slowly.

"Just one thing, Lord Ancunin."

Her thumb and middle finger started to push onto each other.

"Go fuck yourself."

As he lunged for her she snapped her fingers and her love uncloaked behind her, his invisibility falling away.

With all the rage of a tornado he stepped forward, casting spell after spell.

The barrage sending Astarion onto his back foot, dodging but Gale's fury struck him down.

As soon as a knee met the floor Tav pushed to him.

Now, Gale!

He raised arms and shouted.

"Ad Lapide!"

The spinning square of light held him down. Already vibrating as the hold tempted to shatter.

She fell to knees. Whipping out the roll of fabric previously tied to her back. Everything she needed was here. She just had to have the will to use it.

Snatching the pot of her blood she dove under his feet, smearing the binding circle. Concentrating as much as she could on the sigils and sweeping lines as he vibrated with fury, fighting against the holding like a caged animal.

Flying to feet, the pot empty, she took the dagger held in her teeth and cut into his outstretched frozen palm.

His eyes burned into hers with shaking hate, his blood pouring into the pot.

She dove away as the hold was starting to stutter. Crouching down in a circle, drawing one line of his blood around her.

Just as the hold shattered, her smeared fingers met the beginning of her line.

The purple light spinning through the room shifted to a molten red.

Burning lines pulled from him, holding his wrists down to the floor. Already straining and screaming feral at her. Lunging with teeth.

"What have you done?!"

Black flame encircled her. She cried out as a terrible biting pain began.

"Arm! Left!" She shrieked, holding it up.

Gale snatched the tourniquet, whipping it around her bicep.

"Pull hard!" She shouted, though he already knew.

He leaned in and gave her one desperate kiss, then wrenched with all his might.

Nearly blacking out, she fell forward. Dry heaving on the floor. Her arm already felt like it was severed, her nerves screaming out in tingling anguish.

But she wasn't done yet.

Rising shaky to feet she began singing the incantation.

"O magna diaboli dimittis amica mea!"

Smeared lines of him pulled to the floor, the shifting circles opening to a wavering portal of molten light beneath the both of them.

"Sume membrum meum, carpe sanguinem meum!"

The wire around her bicep began closing, wrenching her back down to knees. Crying out, her song becoming a scream.

"Mundus meus est, redde illum ad me!"

His screams melded with hers, fighting on all fours. Spitting and straining. Smeared images of him pulling down then wavering out.

Nearly at the edge, black circles threatening her vision, she looked at him one last time. Gripping the tourniquet as her flesh sawed away beneath it.

Between screams of fury, endless curses and hateful promises, there was a flash of desperate hope in his eyes.

"Do it!" He bellowed.

"Dolor sit satis! Eum dimittere!"

As the last of his screaming mirrored form pulled down into Avernus, her flesh gave. Hungry hands pulling her limp arm down just the same.

Lines beneath them dissipating, she collapsed on the blood smeared floor. Gale rushed to her, hand lit in bright flame.

With one last tearful apology, he pressed his burning palm to the lost limb. Cauterizing it.

She could only twist, her body so imbued with pain the sensation was nearly incomprehensible.

When he released the tourniquet, she got some breath back. Adrenaline allowing her the smallest kindness.

Pushing on knees, she went to him.

He was crumpled, face down. Writhing weakly as she had been.

She almost didn't want him to look up. Terror of failure shaking her.

With her only hand, she cupped his face.

Bending up, his eyes met hers.

She smiled, hitching out a sob.

"Blue. They're blue, Starlight."

He wailed, arms gripping her to him.

They stayed like that, pouring grief into each other. Desperate pulls of limbs, shaking hopeful fingers. Parallel wailing mouths pressing into shoulders. Four tear blinded eyes. Two shattered hearts beating strong to each other.

The beginnings of insect song outside the open window a quiet hymn. Sun on its slow climb, drenching their alcove of despair with light.

Incomprehensibly, the morning had begun all the same.

-

-

-

Tav twisted the taloned fingers. Trying and failing to snap her thumb and middle finger.

Gale came up behind her, kissing her shoulder in a low hum.

"You'll get good at it soon, I promise."

"I know." She smiled, cupping his head with her remaining hand. Leaning into him with a sigh.

The blue light of her mage arm was distracting in her peripheral, but she knew she'd adjust. Fingers sliding gingerly along the bottom of the apparatus cupping her remaining bicep. Tied down securely over her shoulder.

"Kind of Elminster to lend the magic for this." She remarked.

"Oh I think he owed me, after telling me to level a small city."

Tav smiled, turning to him.

Concentrating, she brought her glowing blue palm to his chest.

He smiled proudly, tears spiking the corner of his eyes.

"See? You're a natural."

She pulled with her solid hand, bringing his lips to hers.

I love you so much, you silly wizard.

He laughed against her mouth, melding into her.

He's in the garden, if you want to see him.

Tav nodded, releasing him with two small kisses for good luck.

"You haven't even complimented my dress!" She mock huffed. The one he had picked out for her what felt like months ago hanging from her frame.

"Well let's see it then." He laughed.

She gave him a little twirl. The deep blue fabric swirling around her. The cape sweeping along the floor.

"Heavenly." He sighed, eyes sparkling. "Other goddesses are crying out in shame."

"You are so full of it." She laughed, pinching his side.

"A strike against my very soul. How am I supposed to weather my day with such hurtful words in my heart?" He continued, smiling wide.

"I think you'll live. But I'd love to see the mournful poetry you've written later tonight." She nuzzled into his neck.

He took a deep breath of her, then released. Hand trailing along hers as she stepped downstairs.

Drenched in the fragrant garden, she saw his shock of silver hair on a bench.

Smiling, she came up behind him, hand gently trailing along the flowers at her hip.

Tara was sitting next to him, pressing determined head bonks against his hip.

"Oh dear, it seems she likes you." Tav laughed.

He reached out for her wordlessly, and she met his fingers. Coming to sit on his free side. Resting her head into his shoulder.

"How do you feel?" She hushed, his fingers threading into hers.

"Alive." He whispered, voice wavering.

"Well, that's what I was going for, so..."

He laughed wetly. Leaning into her.

"I'm sorry." He murmured.

"I know." She hummed.

She kicked her legs out, settling into his shoulder.

His eyes caught a gleam, and as soon as he saw the gold vines twisting around her ankle, he crumpled.

She held him as big heaving sobs wracked through. Tara twirling around them, pushing her little head into him.

When he pulled back she kissed his tears away. Pressing her forehead to his.

"I missed you so much, Starlight."

He nodded, face still strained.

"I'm so glad to give you a second chance. No one deserves it more than you."

He shook his head then, and she cupped his face. Bringing her mage hand up to the other side.

"Yes. Yes, you do. And I'm not taking feedback at this time."

He hiccuped a laugh, holding her shoulders.

"Now come inside. There's breakfast and conversation, everything you could ever need. I love you and I'm so glad to see you again. Come eat."

~

~

~

[mystique-6]

Kinktober Day 5 Table Sex

Summary: Ailis tries to make the best of a bad situation. She manages to make it worse.

Hello! My hyperfixation on Astarion has got me in the writing mood so I will be participating in Kinktober using @flightlessangelwings Kinktober list. The pieces may be part of a bigger fic(s). I have started the fic. If you like this please consider checking out my main fic, This is Me Trying. (Can you tell I like Taylor Swift?) Either way, I hope you enjoy. I do plan on completing the 31 prompts though it will take me past October. I also have the fic posted on AO3.

Warning: Anyone under 18 do not interact. Please pay attention to the tag warnings below.

Tag Warnings: Table Sex, Non-consensual Touhing, Non-consensual spanking, Impact Play, Non-con/rape, vampire bite, semi-public sex, penis in vagina sex, anal fingering, figging, domestic violence, abuse, gags, orgasm denial

Additional Note: This fic involves Ascended Astarion.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from BG3.

Ailis paused before the large oak doors of the dining room and took a deep breath.  She loathed this hour of the day when she was forced to dine with Astarion.  On a good day, it was the only time she saw him.  Other days he required more of her presence and the meal usually ended up as a prelude before something unpleasant.  Today had been a good day.  It seemed aa shame to ruin it with his presence.  She took another deep breath, opened one of the heavy oak doors, and swept into the dining room.

“Ah!  There you are, my darling consort!” Astarion exclaimed.  “You look beautiful this evening.”  She watched him take in her form she had draped in a midnight blue, velvet evening gown.  Her dark, black-brown hair was worn up in a braided bun.

“Thank you, my Lord,” she managed to force out in a polite tone.  She took her seat across from him at the ridiculously long dining table.  When they had first started living here, the size of the table had annoyed her.  Now she was grateful for the distance.  She took in the spread laid out for them; two golden goblets full of blood for her and a plate of ham with roasted potatoes and carrots for Astarion.  He also had his own goblet of blood and another filled with a red wine.  She frowned at her own goblets.  It wasn’t so much that she missed food.  She just didn’t like the reminder that she couldn’t have it any longer.  Astarion noticed her pouting.

“Is there something wrong with the blood I provided for you?” he asked.  She heard the warning in his tone.

“No.  Nothing,” she replied quickly and took a sip.  It was never enough to satisfy her hunger.  She forced a smile on her face anyway and Astarion nodded his approval.  She felt relief that he let the perceived slight go.  They went through the meal in silence.  They were the only two in the room.  Astarion always just rang a bell when he needed something else brought in, rather than have the staff stay in the room during their meals.  This hadn’t bothered her in the beginning.  She had enjoyed the intimacy of just the two of them dining alone.  Now she thought having the servants in her would be a nice distraction from the loud silence between them.

She finished her two goblets of blood and gazed at the old grandfather clock that stood against the adjacent wall.  Only twenty minutes had passed.  She couldn’t stand the thought of spending another forty minutes of tense silence.  She turned to stare at Astarion but she knew he would never dismiss her early.  She saw him reach for the Baldur’s Gate news pamphlet he read every evening, and she knew she had to do something to end this agony.

“How was your day?” she cried out in a forcefully optimistic tone.  Astarion’s hand paused over the pamphlet and he looked across the table at her in surprise.  By his baffled expression one would have thought she’d suddenly grown two heads.

“I’m sorry, darling.  What did you say?” he asked.

“I asked how your day was,” she said.

The look of surprise changed to one of suspicion.  “If you were needed on one of my current plans for the city, I would have included you, darling,” he said.  “Don’t trouble yourself about them.”  He started to reach for his news pamphlet again.  Ailis closed her eyes and took a deep breath as she tried to force back a scowl.  It had been months since either of them had initiated a normal conversation during dinner.  She should have anticipated he’d be suspicious.  She tried again.

“I wasn’t asking how your plans are going,” she said in an even tone.  “I was asking about your day.  Was it a good day?  Anything exciting happen?  Do you have anything you want to discuss.  That is what I meant.”

The look of surprise returned to his face and then shifted to confusion, though she could still see a hint of suspicion in his expression.  “I’m not sure why any of that matters to you, my dear,” he said stiffly.  “How my day went had nothing to do with you.”

This time she couldn’t hold back a groan of frustration.  “I am trying to make conversation with you!” she exclaimed.  “We never just talk anymore!  We used to talk…”  She cut off as she realized just how true her words were.  She couldn’t even remember the last conversation they’d had that didn’t involve thinly veiled threats or barbs.

Astarion stared at her for such a long moment she thought he was just going to ignore her, but finally he answered.  “My day was rather tedious.  All meetings that made very little progress.”  He paused.  “How was your day?”

Ailis tried to stifle her surprise.  She hadn’t expected him to return the inquiry.  “Also tedious.  There’s nothing for me to do here.”

Astarion snorted in derision.  “You have an entire library at your disposal,” he said.  “Not to mention the gardens or you could go riding along the grounds.  You also need only advise the servants to bring you anything you like.  If it’s something we don’t have here they’ll get it for you.”

“I’ve done all that you just suggested numerous times before,” she said.  “Doing the same thing day after day gets tiring.”

“My you have become spoiled, haven’t you?  It’s unbecoming, pet,” he scolded.  She looked down at her empty goblets shamed.  She looked back up when he spoke in a gentler tone.  “Why don’t you interact with the other spawn?  You might not feel so bored if you had more companionship.”

“The other spawn don’t like me,” she said, and was surprised by the sad tone in her voice.  She often told herself she didn’t care that she was ostracized from the other spawn.  She understood why they didn’t care for her.  Although Astarion was awful to her, he was even worse to his other spawn and he often set her up on a pedestal he made sure the others knew they wouldn’t reach.  Of course, they didn’t like her.

Astarion considered her words for a moment and nodded.  “They’re just jealous of you, darling,” he said.  “And they should be.  You’re far above them.  You shouldn’t concern yourself with whether they like you or not.”  She forced back a groan of frustration.  She shouldn’t be surprised his suggestion was to force her presence on the other spawn and ignore her discomfort.  He was forcing her into that situation every day with their dinner arrangement.  She reminded herself she was trying to make the best of it.

“What I would really like to do, is get out of the mansion,” she said, and then added quickly.  “Find something to do in Baldur’s Gate.”

“I’m afraid that’s not possible,” Astarion replied stiffly.

“Why not?” she challenged.

She watched as a flare of his temper appeared in his gaze, but he answered her calmy.  “There are numerous miscreants walking the streets of this city.  You are my consort.  It is my duty o keep you safe.  You are safe here in the mansion.”

“In case you’re forgetting, I helped save this city.  I don’t need your protection,” she said.  She was honestly surprised he kept control of his temper.

“That was before I became the vampire ascendent, darling,” he said, a dangerous tone to his voice.  “There are those who would see me brought down.  These wicked, ignorant fiends would gladly try to use you to get to me, or hurt you to hurt me.  I won’t risk your safety.”

“You could come out with me,” she persisted.  “We haven’t done anything together in a long time.”

Astarion paused, but ultimately shook his head.  “I’m far too busy, darling,” he said.  “And really, there’s nothing happening in Baldur’s Gate worth our seeing.”

“So, you’ll neglect me simply because you aren’t interested in any events?” she snapped, finally losing her own temper.  She paled at the rage filled expression he gave her.  She’d finally crossed a line.

“Neglect you?” he hissed.  “Darling, I provide for you everything a person could want.  Others would be envious of your position, and yet you’ve grown so spoiled you are incapable of being grateful.”  She opened her mouth to protest, but he held up a hand to stop her.  “I really think you ought to be taught a lesson.  Come here, pet.”  Ailis hesitated, but stood when he opened his mouth to compel her.  She walked over to stand in front of him on legs that suddenly felt heavy as lead.

He observed her for a moment and then said, “Remove your clothes, darling.”           

Ailis blinked, and then shot nervous glances towards the rooms two entrances.  “The servants could enter at any moment,” she whispered.

“Ungrateful consorts don’t deserve privacy,” he said.  “Remove your clothes.”  When she continued to hesitate, he reached out and ripped her dress off her.  She let out a startled cry and quickly removed her remaining garments until she stood naked before him.

“Now get on the table on all fours,” he ordered.  She tried once again to protest but his time he stopped her with compulsion.  “Now, pet.”  She unwillingly moved to the table and moved his dining ware and news pamphlet out of the way before climbing up onto the table in front of him.  He stood up and then pressed down on her back between her shoulders so her chest laid on the table and her ass was raised up in the air.  He then rang the servant’s bell.

“No,” she whimpered.

“Hush, darling,” Astarion scolded.  “And don’t move from that position.”  Her body reacted to the command and she was locked in place, unable to try to shield herself from anyone’s eyes.  Her face flamed when she heard the servant’s entry door open and an angry tear slipped down her face at the indignity of being put on display like this.  She heard a brief murmur of voices with words spoken too low to hear, the door closing, and then reopening a few minutes later.  Another exchange of words occurred and then the door closed.

She trembled as she heard Astarion walk up behind her and then cried out as he shoved two fingers into her anus with no warning.  She grimaced as he roughly pumped his two lightly greased fingers one or two times and then slightly scissored them inside her before he removed them.  His fingers were then replaced by a different object, she assumed a plug, at her entrance before that was slid into place.  She was relieved at least the toy was greased, considering how wet it felt. 

“All right, darling?” Astarion asked, stroking her hip.

“Y-yes,” she replied in a shaky voice as she adjusted to the intrusion.  She waited for him to continue, but he just continued to stroke her body from her hip down her thigh and back.  She had just begun to relax slightly when the inside of her ass began to burn.  She cried out in shock.

“Darling?” Astarion questioned, but she heard the smirk in his voice and she realized now what he had been waiting for.

“It burns!”  she cried.  “What is it?”

“Peeled gingerroot,” he answered and stepped up to where she could see his face.  His expression was smug.

“Take it out!” she ordered.

“I don’t think so, love.  This is a punishment, remember?” he said.

“Please take it out!” she begged.  “I’m sorry!  I’m sorry!  Please!”

“You’re not sorry,” Astarion stated harshly.  “You just want me to do what you want, but I’m not here to give you what you want.  I’m here to give you what you need, and right now, you need a lesson on gratitude.”  He suddenly thrust an apple in front of her mouth.

“Open,” he ordered and she obediently opened her mouth.  “Bite down on the apple.”  She did and grimaced as the apple’s juice filled her mouth.  It tasted like decaying garbage left out to rot in the sun.  She looked up at him with watery eyes.  He was staring down at her with a stern glare as he pulled off his belt.  “I’m going to give you twenty lashes with my belt.  You are not to drop the apple until I say so.  If you do, I will give you five more lashes for each time you drop it.  Nod that you understand.”

She nodded and he moved behind her.  She trembled as she waited for the first lash and then cried out, the sound muffled by the apple in her mouth.  He had hit her with his full force and the sting from the leather made her skin feel like it was on fire.  Worse, when she’d clenched down to brace herself for the next blow, the burn from the gingerroot grew more intense.  She screamed and sobbed around the apple as she was forced to take the full blow from the belt or clench around the gingerroot.  She felt an overwhelming since of doom and panic as she tried not to bite down too hard on the apple and let it fall from her mouth.

Finally, the last blow hit and she heard his belt drop to the floor.  She rested there as she shook from her sobs and then flinched when she felt his hands grip onto her hips.  He pulled her ass and hips down so she was parallel to the table and then pulled her back a bit so she was closer to the edge.  She felt the head of his cock press to her cunt and she moved to rest on her forearms so she could brace herself.  He brutally thrust into her and then set a punishing pace.

His thrusts left her in the same situation as the beating, and she was once again forced to take the full brunt of his thrusts against her bruised ass or clench around the gingerroot and worsen its burning sensation.  However, it was slightly better as his cock dragged against a sensitive spot inside her with each thrust.  He made no move to touch her, however, so she started to move her hand down to do it herself.  His hand caught hers in a crushing grip and he moved it back to where it had been resting.  His other hand slapped her bruised ass harshly and she whimpered.

“You cum from my cock alone or you don’t cum at all, pet,” Astarion grunted as he continued to pound in and out of her.  “This isn’t about your pleasure.”  Tears streamed down her face as he continued to take his own pleasure from her body and left her wanting.  She could tell he was approaching his release when his thrusts lost their rhythm. 

Suddenly, one of his hands wrapped around her throat and she was lifted to a kneeling position.  He adjusted the position of her head to bare her neck and then roughly sunk his fangs into her neck.  Her scream was muffled by the apple and she writhed from the agony of his harsh bite.  She felt a cold numbness spreading through her body and then the room began to spin as he continued to drink from her.  Dark spots began to grow around the edges of her vision until finally the whole room went dark and she was lost.

She did not know how long she was out, but she felt very groggy and weak when she regained consciousness.  She was still on the table, though she was now resting on her side.  Her ass throbbed from the lashes of the belt and the burn from the gingerroot still inside her, though that had diminished.  Somehow, she still had the apple clenched between her teeth.  She shifted and tried to push herself up to a sitting position.

“Careful, love,” Astarion said, and gripped her hip gently before pulling the gingerroot out.  She whimpered and he shushed her as he helped her move off the table then.  “Go slowly now.”  She managed to raise herself up and he then lifted her off the table before setting her down in his chair.  The room spun and she felt an overwhelming sensation of nausea.  She lowered her head between her knees and took deep breaths through her nose, while Astarion gently stroked her hair.  After another moment, she raised her head to look back up at him.

“Here, darling, you can let go of the apple now,” he said taking it from her mouth and placing it on the table.  She flexed her jaw which ached from being held open for so long.  She glared at the apple on the table and Astarion chuckled.  “Did it offend you?”

“It tasted disgusting,” she grumbled.  “I used to like apples.”

“Tastes can change,” Astarion said.  “Let’s get you more blood.”  He grabbed the servant’s bell and then she watched in confusion as he moved towards the servants’ entrance before ringing it.  She tensed as she saw the door open, but Astarion stood directly in the doorway, blocking the servant from view.  No, she realized, blocking her from view of the servant.  She felt tears burn her eyes which had begun to spill by the time Astarion approached her with a new goblet filled with blood.

“Darling?!” he exclaimed placing the blood on the table and taking her face in his hands.  “What’s wrong?”

“The s-servant was never in here?” she questioned.  “They never saw me like…they never saw me?”

Astarion gave her a soft look.  “No, darling, they never saw you,” he said.  “You are entitled to privacy.”  His expression changed to be sterner.  “When you behave.”  She heard the warning.  He’d put her on display if she didn’t please him.  She should feel angry and disgusted but she only felt relieved.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

He stroked her cheek.  “Of course, pet,” he said and then handed her the goblet.  “Now drink this slowly.”  She listened to him and slowly sipped the blood from her goblet until it was all gone.  She felt her strength return to her and she placed the goblet on the table before glancing up at him.  He held his hand out to her and she took it and let him help her to her feet.  She grimaced when she felt his spend drip out of her and begin to slide down her thigh.  He laughed.  “Let’s get you cleaned up.”  He started to lead her towards the door but she held back.  He gave her a questioning look.

“You tore my dress,” she said.  She didn’t want to be paraded through the mansion naked. 

Astarion looked towards the torn fabric left in a pile on the floor and smirked.  “So I did,” he said.  She worried for a moment that he was going to make her leave the room naked but he then lifted his own shirt off his body and then helped her into it.  It covered her to mid-thigh.  She smiled at him and gave him a small kiss.  He stroked her cheek again and gave her a soft look.  “I’ll look into what events are happening in the Gate this weekend.  I’m sure I can find something that’s suitable for us to attend.” 

She felt her heart swell and she wrapped her arms around him.  “Thank you,” she murmured.

She felt him smile against her temple.  “This is was gratitude gets you, darling,” he said and then pulled pack and gave her a warning look.  “Don’t forget it.”  She shook her head quickly and followed him out of the room, all fuzzy feelings lost.  All she’d really learned is she would never get anything from him without a cost. 

[mackenzielovee]

parenthood blurb: thanksgiving day

a/n: happy thanksgiving!! i hope everyone has a wonderful day! im sending all kinds of love and happiness your way. enjoy this little blurb! reblogs are appreciated :) xoxo

warnings: swearing, kissing, discussion of food

ambivalence masterlist , parenthood masterlist

     Rafe Cameron sits on the couch he bought for his shared home with you, with a baby girl on his lap that’s half him and half you, and staring at a seven-year-old boy who could be his twin. He has a smile on his face as the moment surrounds him; unable to believe that this really is his life. 

Which is why, when he hears you groan in the kitchen, he perks up. 

“Mom, what are you talking about?” you sigh, “We always do Thanksgiving together.”

Josie doesn’t flinch as your voice fills the air; too drawn in by the game she’s playing on Rafe’s phone. Connor is in the middle of reading a book — dinosaurs, no doubt, Rafe thinks — and doesn’t bat an eye, either. 

The silence feels deafening to Rafe as your disappointed energy surrounds him. He waits patiently, having had a lot of practice, and listens in to your end of the call once more. 

“No, I understand. Colorado will be fun for you guys. Yeah, we’ll be fine here. Ward and Rose are coming, and Maddie and Kelce and the kids, too— Oh, you invited them out to Colorado. Did they say yes?”

Rafe frowns, having heard nothing from his parents about traveling for Thanksgiving. He squirms anxiously, laughing to himself when Josie narrows her eyes at him for disrupting her seating. 

“Sorry, princess. I have to get up,” Rafe whispers. 

“Why?”

“I have to check on Mommy,” Rafe explains, pecking her forehead, “Keep your brother company for a second, okay?”

“Okay,” she shrugs, making herself comfortable on the couch once more. 

Rafe waltzes into the kitchen, finding you standing in front of the island, where an empty glass of wine sits beside a full bottle. Your phone is pressed to your ear and you’re listening to your mother mindlessly as you bite your nails. You don’t look over at him until he’s only a few paces away, already welcoming you into him with open arms. 

“Oh, well, that’s great,” you reply to her, and Rafe can tell by your tone that you think it’s very not great, “Yeah, you guys will have a great time. I’ll have to cut my grocery list in half— yeah, definitely saves money. Listen, Mom, I have to go, but are you guys still coming over for dinner tomorrow night? Great. Okay. Love you, too. Bye.”

Your phone gets dropped onto the island the second you end the call, and with a huff, you let yourself fall into Rafe’s chest. He snickers and squeezes you closer, kissing the top of your head. 

“We’re still making the same amount of mashed potatoes,” Rafe whispers, “I love the leftovers.”

“I know you do,” you smile, “Did you know your parents are going to Colorado with my parents?”

“I had no idea. But, Dad’s been out of town, so I haven’t really talked to either one in a few days.”

You nod, then let out a long, sad exhale. He chuckles to himself, already knowing exactly what’s bothering you. 

“Our parents have always been around for the holidays,” you mumble, “It’s gonna be weird.”

“Maybe,” he shrugs, “But with the Smiths in here, it’s gonna be way too loud for you to even notice anyone’s missing.”

You nod again, knowing he’s right. He gives you another kiss to the top of your head, then turns to your wine bottle. He knows how sad you were when you found out Scott is spending Thanksgiving with Mae — who had taken him back under the promise of him remaining sober and attending regular AA meetings. Topper and Ellie are traveling to Topper’s parents’ for the holiday, and you hadn’t even bothered to ask anyone about Sarah’s plans. With no word from her, you just push every concern and inquiry out of your mind. 

When you look up at him, your eyes big and wide and absolutely obliterating his heart, he smiles. 

“Any other dish you want to make in excess?” you tease, “Because I want all of the corn casserole.”

“You’ve got it, then,” he grins, “Connor, Josie, come in the kitchen!”

You laugh as you hear both of their bare feet hit the wood floor, then patter together as they run to the both of you. 

“Yeah?” Connor asks as they appear in the doorway, both of them staring up at the two of you. 

“What food do you want the most for Thanksgiving?” Rafe asks. 

Josie beams and hurries forward, taking a seat on the stool that the kids use for the sink. Connor usually sits there, and you know she takes great pride in having thought of it first. The look on her face makes you laugh, but Connor doesn’t object in the slightest. Instead, he just stands beside her. 

“Ice cream,” Josie answers. 

Rafe laughs, “Okay. But what about for the meal?”

“Ice cream,” Josie repeats, “And potatoes.”

“She’s definitely my child,” Rafe whispers to you, then looks to Connor, “What about you, buddy?”

“Turkey,” he replies, “And pumpkin pie.”

Ever the traditionalist, you smile at him. Rafe nods encouragingly, promising both of them that they’ll get their food wishes. Then, Rafe leans forward and pours you out a glass of wine, getting a spare glass for himself. 

“Alright, now that Thanksgiving is settled,” Rafe announces, “Who wants to make a fire outside? I think we still have enough marshmallows left, we could—”

“S’mores!” Josie exclaims, hopping up from her stool.

Rafe snickers, “You want sugar? That’s shocking.”

“C’mon, Daddy, please,” she presses, tugging on the end of his shirt and giving him the puppy dog eyes. When her bottom lip juts out, you know he’s done for, and you’re not at all surprised when he turns and looks at you. 

“Wanna make s’mores?”

You laugh, “Yeah, of course.”

“Perfect,” Rafe beams, “Connor, want to help me make the fire?”

“Yeah,” Connor nods, already making his way toward the back door, “C’mon, Dad.”

Rafe chuckles and follows after him, leaving Josie with you. She claws at your legs, silently requesting you to pick her up, which you do just before Rafe turns around.

“Bring the wine?” he requests. 

“I will.”

     Two days pass, which is just enough time between work and the kids to alter the recipes for every Thanksgiving dish to the number of people attending dinner at your home. You text Maddie and ask what type of beverage she and Kelce would prefer, what type of wine, and what to have around for Noah to drink. She doesn’t text you back for hours, which you find strange, and catch yourself staring at the message as you debate texting again to make sure she received the first one. 

It isn’t until you climb into your car after work that Maddie calls you, and you’re quick to accept it while simultaneously thanking a higher power that you don’t have to deal with hushing the kids while you talk — for once. 

“Hey,” you smile, “I was just about to text you. Did you get my message from this morning?”

“Yeah,” she says slowly, and you can instantly tell from her tone that she’s not calling to discuss corn casserole, “Listen, Y/N, Kelce’s parents decided last minute that they wanted to do a dinner after all, and, you know, originally I told Kelce no, but we were with my parents last year, and he got mad, and—”

“I get it,” you stop her, keeping your voice gentle to disguise your disappointment, “That will be really fun. They’ll love to see the kids.”

“Definitely,” she agrees, “I’m really sorry, though. I know we agreed to be there and everything.”

“Mads, it’s okay,” you promise her, “You guys do what’s best for you.”

You can practically see her smile, “Thanks, Y/N. You know we love you.”

“You know we love you right back,” you assure her, and even though your heart weighs down with sadness of your group bailing on Thanksgiving, you can’t bear to hold it against anyone. 

     All night, Rafe’s been silently watching you like a hawk, trying to figure out where the difference in your energy is coming from. You’d adjusted to the fact that your parents would be away for Thanksgiving, but now, it seems as if you’ve taken a few steps back.

Although you smile over dinner and engage with the kids the way you normally do, he knows you better than that. He knows that something’s going on in your head, and he is extremely desperate to know what it is. 

He can tell simply by the little crease in your brow, by your wandering eyes that are a dead giveaway that you’re thinking about the same thing over and over. He refuses to say a word until after he’s tucked the kids into bed, then comes downstairs to find you staring off into space as you sit on the couch. 

“Spill,” he demands as he comes off of the stairs. 

“Huh?”

“Something’s bugging you,” he replies, collapsing beside you on the couch, “Talk to me.”

“Kelce and Maddie are out for Thanksgiving,” you sigh, “Kelce’s parents are having a dinner. And with Scott and Topper and our parents gone, it’s just not really feeling much like the holidays, you know?”

He nods patiently, pulling you in closer, “I know. But we can still have a dinner of our own.”

“I know,” you nod, “I don’t want to sound like I’m bummed. At least we’ll still all be together. I just like when everyone’s under the same roof, you know?”

Of course he knows. It’s one of the many reasons on the list of why he loves you; because of your dedication to your favorite things — ice cream for dessert, the scent of your shampoo, and your desire to keep your loved ones close over the holidays. 

“I get it, sweetheart. But, hey, maybe this is the start of a new tradition. Just the four of us.”

Rafe watches as your gaze shifts up to him, where you nod thoughtfully as his words sink in. 

“Yeah, maybe it is,” you reply. 

He smiles and tips your chin up with his pointer finger, then gives you a gentle kiss. He remains there until you smile, then grins himself and kisses you one last time. 

“It’s gonna be a great day,” Rafe encourages, “I promise.”

You nod, “It is.”

He smiles, then stands and plucks you right up off the couch. You squeal but allow it, wrapping your legs around his waist as he carries you off toward your shared bedroom. 

The remainder of the work week passes, and your pantry fills with cooking supplies quickly. On Wednesday evening, you notice how Rafe has spent the majority of his time home from work on his phone, typing away furiously. He’s focused on whatever he’s doing, and while you don’t necessarily mind, your curiosity kicks in. 

You’re lying on the couch beside him, but his phone is held at an angle that you can’t see. You strain, squirming in his arms to try and catch a glimpse of it. 

“What’re you doing?” you ask. 

“Oh, I’m just texting the guys about basketball,” he replies, locking his phone and setting it on the coffee table, “Topper owes me twenty bucks. We had a bet on the UNC game.”

“Do not make him give you twenty bucks,” you huff, listening to Rafe snicker. 

“I won’t, baby,” he promises, “Are you excited for tomorrow?”

You sigh, “Yeah. We’ll have to get up early to put the turkey in.”

“I will,” he replies, “Connor’s excited to make the corn casserole with you.”

“Really?”

“Shit, yeah,” Rafe laughs, “He kept talking about it when I put him to bed. He can’t wait to spend quality time with you.”

You pout, cuddling deeper into Rafe as your chest swells with love, pride, and happiness. 

“I’m excited, too,” you confess, “Even if everyone else isn’t here. The most important ones are.”

“Yeah,” Rafe agrees, “I agree.”

The two of you fall asleep on the couch shortly thereafter, dreaming of turkeys and corn casserole and plane tickets and a house full of people. 

     When you wake, it’s to the sound of something being slid into the oven. Yawning, you sit up on the couch and listen as Rafe closes it, thanking him silently for being responsible enough to have actually gotten up to handle the turkey. 

You both made it through the night on the couch, which only happens when you’re super tired and Rafe doesn’t have the heart to risk waking you if he picks you up. He always resigns to sleeping on the couch, and the little act makes your heart skip a beat. 

Entering the living room with two mugs of coffee, Rafe smiles when he sees you’re awake and hands off a cup to you. 

“Good morning,” he greets softly, “Happy Thanksgiving, sweetheart.”

“Happy Thanksgiving, Rafe,” you reply, giving him a kiss. 

“Turkey’s in,” he informs you, “Kids are still asleep. And you’re hot.”

You scoff, “Smooth.”

He grins and wraps an arm loosely around the back of the couch, looking effortlessly handsome with his messy hair and sleepy eyes. 

“I still got it, huh?” he teases. 

You roll your eyes playfully, “How do you think you landed me?”

“Patience,” he replies, “Dedication. That, and I like the pain of being tortured for twelve years.”

You laugh and shake your head, loving the sound he makes when he laughs with you. For a moment, you realize that this really is all you need; Rafe, the kids, and coffee, to make your Thanksgiving day all that you hope it will be. 

“You’re funny,” you tell him, “And you’re hot, too.”

He smirks, “Are you flirting with me?”

“You flirted, too.”

“Yeah, but I’m always flirting with you,” he defends, “I can’t help it.”

You giggle, and only the sound of little, bare feet coming down the stairs could draw your attention away from Rafe at that moment. 

“Is it time for turkey?” Josie questions as soon as she reaches the bottom of the stairs, coming face to face with you and Rafe for the first time on her third Thanksgiving. She’s still wearing her pink princess pajamas, her hair sticks out in four directions, and her eyes look sleepy, just like her dad. 

“Almost, princess,” Rafe says, holding back a laugh, “Happy Thanksgiving.”

“Happy Thanksgiving, Daddy,” she replies, then makes her way over to you, climbing up on your lap, “Hi, Mommy.”

“Hi, baby,” you smile, kissing her head, “How did you sleep?”

“I had a dream about the turkeys,” she tells both of you, “They don’t like Thanksgiving, I don’t think.”

“Probably not,” Rafe snorts, quieting himself when you elbow him in the stomach discreetly. 

All three of your attention is brought to the stairs when you hear Connor hurrying down, practically out of breath when he reaches the bottom. Like Josie, he stands tall in his dinosaur pajamas, but his hair is more tame than hers. 

“Mama,” he says quickly, beaming from ear to ear, “We’ve gotta start on the corn casserole!”

You eye Rafe and smile, then nod and hand Josie off to him. Connor crosses the room and takes your hand, pulling you up from the couch. 

“Not so fast, bub, let's say good morning first,” you tease him. 

Connor smiles, “Sorry. Good morning, Mama. Here’s a kiss.”

He leans forward and kisses your cheek quickly, then tugs on your hand again. You chuckle and give up, standing from the couch and allowing him to guide you to the kitchen. 

Rafe and Josie join the two of you in the kitchen after a few minutes, where Rafe serves you with more coffee. After a bit, you all take a break to shower and get ready, then meet in the kitchen for more cooking and preparation. You and Josie set the table while Rafe and Connor test out the turkey, then start on the mashed potatoes. 

It’s nearly four o’clock when the doorbell rings, and you furrow your eyebrows at Rafe at the sound. He beams and stands up a little straighter, then gives you a smile. 

“I’ll get the door,” he says.

“Who is it?” you ask, but he’s already out of the kitchen. 

You just shrug and step over to Connor, who is just testing out the mashed potatoes. Josie stands beside him, both of them anxiously pulling their spoons from the dish to taste. 

“They're good, Mama,” Connor tells you. 

“I’m so glad. Don’t put your spoon back in there, though, buddy, let’s get you a new one—”

“Hey, sweetheart?” Rafe calls from the living room, “Where should we put everyone else’s dishes?”

You recoil at his odd question and start to yell back, but decide to walk over to the doorway to talk to him face-to-face. 

Instead of just finding Rafe, however, you find your living room almost completely full of the people you love. Your parents, Ward, Rose, Wheezie, Topper and Ellie, Scott and Mae, Maddie, Kelce, Noah and Julian, and Kelce’s parents. They all smile and laugh when they see the shocked expression on your face, and you barely register the way Connor and Josie run past you to get to Noah. 

“Everyone brought food, so we’ll have enough to go around,” Rafe explains to you, biting down on his lip to hide a smile. 

“Wait, but—” you stutter, searching around the room in hopes that someone will explain, “What’s happening?”

“You have a persuasive husband,” Ward says loudly, earning chuckles from the group. 

You look at Rafe and melt, unable, yet completely willing, to believe that he went to all this trouble just to make you happy on Thanksgiving. 

“Y/N, we know the holidays are important to you,” Scott says, “We’re all sorry we made other plans. Will you still have us?”

You laugh, “I— Of course.” 

Maddie rushes forward and engulfs you in a hug, which is how you wind up letting out a breath of relief as you embrace her. The hugs flow easily then, and you learn that Kelce’s parents had agreed to come to your house instead of hosting their own. Wheezie drove in from UNC — where she’s pursuing her Master’s degree — and Topper decided to stick around because it’s easier to keep Ellie in one place. Your parents and Rafe’s parents delayed their Colorado trip, and every single party ended up making a dish to bring to ensure everyone is fed. 

All at the request of your husband. 

For you. 

The people all flow into the kitchen to set down dishes and get drinks, while you remain rooted in the living room, pouting happily at Rafe. He’s in a polo and his hair is done, and initially, you hadn’t even questioned why he’d been so insistent on everyone getting ready for the holiday. Now, you understand. 

He grins when you cross the room and dive into his arms, holding him close. 

“Thank you,” you whisper into his neck, “Thank you, Rafe.”

He smiles, pressing kiss after kiss to your cheek without a care in the world. 

“Happy Thanksgiving, baby,” he whispers. 

You grin, “I love you so much.”

He chuckles, pulling you back and guiding his lips to yours for a few quick kisses. Then, he loops his fingers through yours and nods toward the kitchen, where the sound of laughter and joy fills your ears and your heart. 

“I love you, too,” he promises, “Let’s eat.”

*i no longer use a tag list. follow @mackupdates for updates! <3 thank you for reading!

[consoledacup]

I've been rewatching the aa season 5 finale because I terribly miss the show, and it's one of the few episodes last season that i genuinely enjoy all the way through. And I can't help but wonder if the writers were going for Jordayla's engagement as a big surprise to the audience, or if their scenes were supposed to give it away that it was them getting engaged? They tried to throw the scent off by having the pregnant girl find the ring and assume her boyfriend was ready for marriage. And then they had Spencer get down on one knee for no reason, and Liv's little smile at that gesture....but anyone with half a brain and some media literacy could tell that it was Jordayla getting engaged all along. Like as much as the characters were playing it off all ep, Greta, and especially Michael, played the ending with all of their scenes prior to the engagement, which ended up just being a dead giveaway if the writers were going for a "suprise". And I'm curious if their scenes in that episode were supposed to spell it out to the audience that it was their engagement or if that's just how they played it, and gave away the ending in every other scene?

Love the s5 finale too! It's such a fantastic episode. But it appears I'm lacking half a brain and media literacy because I didn't figure it out until halfway through the ep! Ohhhh man.

I think in any hot potato trope, it's not meant to be sooo super secretive and impossible to figure out. The fun is watching the little winks and nods and say, "haha, clever writers. What a jolly private joke for your audience."

And I've shared this before, but the real surprise isn't "who's gonna propose??" The surprise, to me, is Layla's acceptance of his proposal. Once I figured out the ring was Jordan's, I wasn't sure how it was gonna go. He could've angstily pocketed the ring after their little fights. He could've proposed only to be turned down.

It's funny because the happily ever after ending of s5, for jordayla, is the least painful way to go but turned out to be the most surprising. I really loved how all of it was executed, including the charming hot potato storyline.

[crplpunkklavier]

HELLO again I am. Loving uour opinions and would like any random headcanons you have 4 apollo or klavier,,,, personally I hc that apollo cant use mechanical pencils because he presses too hard and breaks the lead immediately

that is a very good one. agree

klav hcs here

apollo:

freckles. if u draw him with freckles i love u. i dont always need to see him transmasc bc i actually have a lot of different gender hcs about him that i find enjoyable but i do need to see him with freckles.

used to wear insoles that made him look taller for a while but they made his feet hurt so he decided to instead just get over his inferiority complex about his height. its just more efficient that way and apollo justice loves efficiency

picked fights with mall santas as a kid because he knew that the adults were lying about santa being real (imagine having a little kid whom you can never under any circumstances lie to.) so he figured those guys were in on the conspiracy and had to be punished

once he learned about law he stopped trying to punch santa in the teeth and instead dedicated himself to learning how he could sue him

and thats how you make yourself a little law boy

doesnt really otherwise understand christmas, refuses to learn. will deliberately get details wrong to annoy people

his favorite holiday is passover because he loves rules and also potatoes

he WILL cry when its over and he gets to go to a bakery again though

also cries at nature documentaries, magic shows, and non-fiction books

talks in his sleep. i had full conversations with my ex while he was fast asleep and im stealing that for apollo

another thing im stealing from my ex is that he cant reproduce a melody. you play him a song and ask him to repeat it back to you and he can remember the lyrics but he cant for the life of him put the melody back together

has played SO much dnd in his life. DMed too. sometimes its still hard for him not to begin his court statements with "i go into a rage"

athletic. i want him to be a little baseball boy because the shorter you are the smaller your strike zone and honestly this fucking guy would throw the meanest balls in the world not to mention break every bat he hits a homer with. but also just generally athletic i think. he just has so much energy to let out

really admires real lawyers and detectives of the aa universe's history (yes im talking about ryuunosuke) but does think that the sholmes books were a bit much.

was a serial heartbreaker in school. no im serious. i think he was handsome and exciting and everybody wanted him and he was like i cant i have to file a class action against mall santas

[atanx]

okay I NEED you to elaborate on your headcanon about kuze being mana’s uncle because I absolutely can see it but I wanna know your context specifically (im @designernishiki btw)

Hi! Thamks for the ask! :3

Okay so admittedly I didnt come up with it myself, but I read it in this and thought yo why the heck not that shits epic?? Just the idea of Kuze having a niece and being a pretty good uncle?? Good shit right there!

I even started writing a little bit, dunno if I'll ever continue it but here:

It starts with his sister. His sweet, shy sister he never really knew, he never really talked to not because they didn't like each other but because she was five years younger and they had virtually nothing in common.

Throughout the years, they'd lost contact, yet, as Kuze's boxing career is falling apart, a letter arrives. Where Akira got his address from, he doesn't have a clue, but he remembers her handwriting.

They meet at Cafe Alps to catch up. He doesn't recognise her in the beginning, but she recognises him.

"Hold her for a second, would you?", Akira shoves her baby into his arms.

"-Oi!", Daisaku complains, mostly because his hands are made for boxing, for hurting, and he most definitely does not know how to take care of a baby.

But Akira leaves to go to the bathroom before he can get another word in.

Daisaku looks down at the potato. Babies are so ugly. They're deformed, weak and disgusting with drool and snot and even less pleasant bodily secretions everywhere. They scream and they're annoying, but - this isn't his baby. This is Akira's baby. He doesn't have the responsibility of having to do everything right. He won't have to suffer through the majority of the baby's tantrums.

The baby's big eyes follow his finger as he boops its little nose. It scrunches up its face in a way he must admit it decently adorable.

"Oh, you got an attitude.", he remarks with amusement. "That's a good thing. I like you."

The baby stretches out its tiny, tiny hand to play with his finger and he lets it.

Daisaku is overcome by wonder. It's so small, so weak and helpless, yet this is a human. This will one day grow up into an adult. What he is holding in his arms is a life. A pure, young, innocent life.

"I see you've become acquainted!", Akira teases him as she sits down, not making a move to take the baby back.

"Aa. It's got spunk."

His sister chuckles.

"What's it's name?", Daisaku asks.

"Kuze Mana.", Akira responds, looking at the baby with a lot of fondness. The little shit starts gnawing on his finger. He lets her.

"Eh? You're not hitched?"

"Nah, she was an accident, but I wanted to keep her."

"Huh."

"So, Daisaku... How have you been holding up?", Akira asks him, tone becoming a tad bit gentler. "I heard about what's happening with your boxing career."

Kuze clicks his tongue. "Don't believe everything you hear. Reason why things are going downhill is that I did something the Championship doesn't like so they're forcing me to lose. Bunch of fuckers."

Akira hums. "And what, you're just going to let them walk all over you?"

"Pf. As if. The reason I started up boxing is because I wanted to fight people stronger than me, not get tossed around by losers I could defeat in my sleep. I could tough it out, but... This isn't about strength or perseverance. Getting back in the bosses' good graces is gonna take a long time and then it's one wrong move and I'm in the doghouse again.", Kuze snorts derisively. "This is more showbiz than boxing. No, I think I'm done with it. Only question is what happens after."

"Do you have a job in mind yet?"

"No. That's most of the problem.", Kuze admits. "Like hell I'm gonna start an office job or anything like that. Don't exactly have qualifications either."

Akira looks him over critically. "I guess so."

"I have received an offer.", Kuze states, staring at the table. "He said my strength and potential was wasted there."

"Eh? Is it the Yakuza?"

Kuze looks up in shock. "How did you know?"

Akira smiles. "I've had a couple of friends who were in there."

"I see.", he states, still uncertain of what she thinks of it.

[adarede]

average day for average member of society: 

 wake up at 6am, eat liver and onions for breakfast. read a national daily newspaper and a provincial daily newspaper. 

 7am: go for a run, wearing a replica football team shirt, a man's base layer top, and tracksuit bottoms. 

 7.20am: have a shower. shave. die hair using permanent hair colourant. apply body moisturising lotion, deodorant, self-tanning product, face cream, perfume, mascara, liquid foundation, lip gloss, and nail varnish. 

 8am: take the car in for an MOT. have a new exhaust fitted in a fast-fit auto centre. 

 8.30: purchase a caravan 

9am: go ten-pin bowling

10.10am: visit a DIY shop and purchase some butane gas, a sheet of MDF, a patio set, and some luxury vinyl tile flooring. 

10.30am: go home and get started on a light spot of DIY, while enjoying a canned stout and an electronic cigarette. 

11:45am: suddenly remember that today is your day with the kids, and call Geraldine the nanny in a panic. She reassures you that she collected Annie and Jasper at the normal time, and took them to the soft play centre. tell Geraldine to invoice you for the soft play centre fee, and let her know you'll meet her there at 12:15. 

11:55: rush to the shops on your bicycle. purchase a selection of soft toys, a child's sit and ride toy, some disposable nappies, and a high chair (you can't remember if you already have one). 

12:25pm: meet Geraldine and the kids at the soft play centre. apologise profusely for your tardiness and propose a hot pub lunch to make up for it. 

12:30pm: call directory inquiries, asking for the number of the nearest pub, then call that pub to ask if they serve hot lunches. they do, so you make a reservation. 

12:50pm: arrive at the red lion in Geraldine's car, with your bike balanced on the roof. bemuse the staff when you present your own high chair for Annie to sit in. Annie reminds you she is 4 now so can use a big girl chair.

enjoy a lovely hot pub lunch, with a draft bitter for yourself, a spirit-based drink for Geraldine, and both fizzy drinks and fruit juice for the kids. 

2pm: ask Geraldine to drop you off home, since your car is still being serviced. Geraldine's car breaks down, so you call the AA (calling directory enquiries first, because you can never remember phone numbers. Geraldine looks disapproving, and you make a mental note not to mention you've called directory enquiries to get her number before too). give the kids the soft toys you brought earlier, and attempt to entertain Geraldine by doing tricks on your bicycle. "well, at least you brought your helmet, I suppose," is all Geraldine says, and plays games on her phone without looking at you. you pretend you didn't want her to in the first place, to maintain your dignity in front of your children. 

3pm: take the opportunity to call your solicitor to make an appointment to update your will. 

3:20pm: purchase dental insurance over the phone. this reminds you of your poor elderly mother in her nursing home, so you call the florist to arrange a delivery of flowers there. 

4pm: the AA arrive, and luckily the car can be fixed on the spot. you make it home at 20 past 4. 

4:30: the kids complain of being bored, so you take them to the pet shop down the road. they manage to convince you to purchase a hamster and a bag of dog treats; the latter is for feeding dogs in the park, they tell you. this inspires you to buy some wild bird seed as well, to feed the birds in your back garden. you make a mental note to buy the necessary materials to construct a bird table tomorrow morning. 

5:15pm: you get home and start cooking dinner. the kids lose the hamster immediately upon getting it home, but they find it soon enough in the corner of your sleeping bag - you have it set up in the living room in order to be better prepared if burglars break in, since you anticipate them entering through your french window. 

5.45pm: dinner is quiche, veggie sausages, a pre-packaged salad, and some instant mashed potato. Jasper informs you he is on an all-meat diet at the moment. you worry that he has been watching too much alpha male youtube; you thought youtube kids blocked that kind of thing. he is only 6, after all. you tell him that quiche is a kind of animal, and salad is meat too, since it's the flesh of a plant. Jasper starts crying, and you discover that he didn't know meat came from animals. None of this makes sense to you. You hear a scraping sound coming from the kitchen, and see that the hamster has been eating your newly laid vinyl flooring. You put the hamster, with a handful of muesli, in the cardboard box your latest wine delivery came in. 

6:05pm: the kids have located the fromage frais in your fridge and have eaten 6 by the time you get back to the dining room

6:10pm: you corral the kids into the living room and put on a blu-ray to watch. the hamster slowly chews through the box in which it had been placed. you leave the kids to it while you go up to the attic to dig out an animal cage. in the attic, you see your action camera, interchangeable lens camera, and digital compact camera, and get lost in a reverie, imagining all the wonderful photographs you could take with them. 

6:30pm: come downstairs again armed with the cage, an acoustic guitar, and a fishing rod, and retrieve the hamster from its latest location (dangerously close to chewing through an unused inkjet printer cartridge).

6:45pm: suddenly remember you still don't have a car, so purchase the necessary train tickets to take the kids back to their mum's house. 

6:55pm: change into a formal jacket and trousers, a tie, and a hat; the dating agency called yesterday and you have a date tonight in london. 

7:05pm: get the kids and the hamster out the door and take the bus to the station. give the kids a craft set each; you keep them by the door just in case of surprise journeys.

7:13pm: run to catch the train. due to skill and practice, you do not fall over as you sprint in your high heeled shoes. 

7:47pm: get off the train, and take a taxi to drop the children off at their mother's house. leave the kids to give their mother the gift you purchased yesterday for her of a shower head and some knitting wool. ring the doorbell and get back in the taxi before anyone answers the door. you see the door open just as your taxi turns the corner at the end of the road. 

8:03: catch the next train to london. arrive at 8.30 at king's cross, and take a taxi to the bar at which you are meeting your mystery date. touch up your make-up using your phone screen as a mirror. 

8:40: stop at a tesco express to buy a cooked pastry based savoury snack, some hand-rolling tobacco, and a lamb shoulder. buy some condoms, and then, hedging your bets, buy some tampons too. 

8:50pm: arrive at the bar, and weave your way through the crowd towards a woman standing alone with her back to you, wearing a cocktail dress. she turns, and you recognise Yorickina from the picture given to you by the agency. She smiles, evidently recognising you too. 

"what are your hobbies," she immediately asks.

"i do enjoy package holidays covering a range of foreign destinations," you say, put on the spot. what is a hobby, anyway? "oh, and slimming." 

Yorickina looks sceptically at your noticeable belly. you slightly lift your shirt, showing that beneath there is concealed your emergency supplies kit, which contains hair gel, gin, a greetings card, and a canned lager. in fact, despite appearances, you have a very trim figure. 

"What's your favourite mode of transport," you ask Yorickina. "Oh, ferry, for sure," she replies. "Although I do enjoy travelling by coach". 

You feel your heart speed up: could Yorickina be your perfect counterpart? 

"May I buy you a drink," you ask. She accepts a double vodka, and you get yourself a draught cider. "i mostly spend time tending my horse," Yorickina continues, "but I also enjoy purchasing computer peripherals." 

"Oh, but that's fascinating!" you exclaim. "I tend to spend most of my money on watersports equipment e.g. windsurfing equipment, but I also enjoy a spot of golf on the weekends." 

You spend a very enjoyable couple of hours getting to know Yorickina, but before you know it, she says she has to go home. You convince her to stop by a kebab shop with you on your way back to the station. It has started to rain outside, but luckily Yorickina was carrying two umbrellas.

on the train ride home, you check your schedule for tomorrow. You have to pick up your car in the morning, and the surveyor is coming over to value your house in the afternoon. And once you have your car back, you will be able to collect your caravan and start planning your next holiday. You look up the cost of a marriage licence. 

You get home at around 11.30pm, and settle into your armchair with a whisky, various selected popular brands of sweets, and a cigar. You read a couple of chapters of your e-book. 

at around 12:15, you get up, brush your teeth and have another shower, and set up a duvet and pillow on your sofa (the sleeping bag on the floor is but a decoy). you send a flattering message to Yorickina, before turning off your phone and tucking yourself into bed. you blissfully drift off to sleep, dreaming of ultra low sulphur diesel and wide, empty toll roads.

[tsukuharuko]

Despite the attrition at the beginning, everything seemed to be running smoothly. Inosuke was doing his best to help, and sure, while his ways -- and random cakles -- sometimes threw the villagers in pure confusion, everything was going smoothly, and soon the debris were removed and the foundation for the walls was starting to be lined up. Haruko observed proudly, grinning as Inosuke ran from one side of the house to another, carrying five times the weight the average villager would. He even seemed to be enjoying himself...

As soon as the women started to participate too, she stood there awkwardly, wondering whether to help. She knew little of the ways of this time -- only stuff from books and history classes -- and was afraid she'd have done something to compromise their cover, not to mention risking being called a witch again... Until, as several simple meals were getting prepared, she spotted a few ingredients, the same ones from the stew she had made when Inosuke had broken into her house.

There, an idea sparked in her head, and she shyly approached the mother of the child, who was helping the other women while her kid was sat not too far from her, playing with a ladle.

"Excuse me, uhm..." Haruko asked, pointing at the ingredients, "can I use some of those vegetables to prepare a stew?"

The woman followed her hand, saw the vegetables and smiled, nodding at Haruko as she passed her a knife and a rough board to peel and cut the vegetables with. Haruko took it with a thank, rolled up her sleeves and grabbed a potato, peeling it with a concentrated frown as she sat next to the woman.

"I'm really grateful for your help," she was saying, passing Haruko a pot to put the ingredients in. "I don't know what would have happened if you and your friend hadn't intervened."

"It's all Inosuke's merit," Haruko replied with a smile and a not at the demon boy, who, not too far away, was helping building the first wall. "He may look rough, but he's actually really kind."

The woman smiled, a knowing warmth in her eyes.

"Once my house is ready again," she said, "I'd be happy to have you over for a meal, to repay you both for your help."

Haruko beamed. Yes yes -- that was exactly the kind of signal she was hoping for!

"No need to repay us," she said with a wide smile, "but Inosuke will be more than happy to try your food! He has a good appetite!"

The woman laughed and nodded, mutely sealing their agreement before going back to her chores. Haruko did the same -- in a few minutes, she had put together a good pile of chopped vegetables, and filled the pot with water before putting it on an improvised firecamp.

About half an hour later, the second wall of the house was half done, and the stew was ready. Haruko poured a generous amount in a bowl and headed towards Inosuke, careful not to spill any of it.

"Hey! Look what I've made," she called, offering him the bowl. "It's not aas flavourful as the one I did when we first met, because I didn't have all my spices, but I added some herbs the women gave me and it smelled pretty good! Thought you'd need a snack after all the hard work," she smiled, glancing at the house. "How is it going?"

If Inosuke could read thoughts, he might just have started tearing up again at Haruko's reasoning. She had figured him out entirely, pushing him towards his new goal rather than pausing to point out his overwhelming emotions. She didn't make fun of him, she didn't chastise him, but she pushed him to be better.

To prove the whole world that he could be better.

He stood by her side with his chest slightly puffed out, nose angled upwards in defiance. The ball was in the villagers' court now, and Inosuke was ready to react accordingly.

He still hadn't entirely ruled out using a few human bones for the house's new structure. At least, not until Haruko corrected him.

"... Fine. But if they act like assholes, I'm still allowed to yell at them!" Inosuke argued. It would be hard enough not resorting to physical violence.

He was about to walk away when she stopped him. Inosuke stood quietly, rather relieved that he was given a good reason to hang out in his natural attire – which was the lack of any attire, in fact. He spun around to face her, a confident smirk tugging at his lips and a thumb planted into his own chest.

"I'll fix ALL the things! Just watch me, Natsuko! And if there's nothing left to fix before sunset, I'll just break stuff so I can fix it right away!"

He strode away with a maniacal cackle, which did nothing to reassure his future comrades. The wave of unease was quickly dispelled by Inosuke's enthusiasm, his raw strength more than handy when it came to carrying the rubble away. It wouldn't be long before the foundations were cleared, and the real rebuilding could begin.

While the men worked away, the women of the village didn't stand idly by. Sengoku era society may not be a paradise for women, yet all seemed eager to help with their own chores. It wouldn't be long before the mother was called to come and help preparing a meal for all the workers, a few gazes lingering on Haruko, as if trying to find the courage to call out for her as well.

[cocopubpotato]

The worst part about buying a zine is that i wasnt home when the package arrived so everyone kept asking me what i bought and i have to explain in a way that doesnt make me look insane that i spent 1300 pesos in a book a couple pictures folder and stickers of fictional lawyers that isnt even from the og company

[crackedramblings]

Dream from 16.7.24

I was living in an old house with two other women. It felt very much like the house I lived in when I first went to college. It became apparent that the house had been damaged by water, as the floors were starting to crumble. Various bits of the floor and ceiling were gone, and more was falling apart. My housemate suggested we move to the basement while we waited for the repairs to be done. I told her that I didn't think the house was salvageable, and that it would need to be torn down. Nevertheless I kept thinking about what I would need to sleep in the basement. Blanket, pillow, some sort of foam mattress that was easy to transport. I went down there and the door was closed; there were some guys in there having a meeting. I peeked in and asked if they were having a secret cult AA meeting. They said no, they were just playing a Mr. Potato Head card game. I left them to it and the dream continued with my trying to figure out how I was going to live in the basement, but I kept doing things in the upper floors anyway. Such as sitting at my desk and working. But the situation upstairs was getting dire; a cupboard with cans of food on top was leaning due to the rotting floors and the canned food was falling down, which could hurt someone or damage the house even more.

[priyastandon]

Santa with a difference!

When Ganesha played secret Santa

Who is Santa Claus? Santa is a kind, fat, jovial old man who brings gifts for children on Christmas. Little children are enamoured by the mascot dressed in red and white who comes riding on a sleigh. Parents pamper their children with gifts in the guise of Santa. When children grow up, they realise that Santa is not a real guy. The moment of realisation for a child may be heart breaking; the make-believe world may be shattered but soon there is a moment of awakening and gratitude towards those who have played Santa and been the harbingers of joy. And suddenly there is an eagerness to become the magical gift-giving Santa, because there is great joy in giving! Truly all grandparents, parents, uncles, aunts, cousins etc. who bring gifts for children are Santa in their own right.

The spirit of giving, is one of the most beautiful traits of our persona. We may give gifts, money, knowledge, love, care or even just time! Sharing happiness, increases it manifold; sharing grief decreases it aplenty. Now that the Christmas break is here, many of those who have empty nests, are waiting for the homecoming of their NRI off springs. These NRIs come home loaded with gifts for aged parents and siblings. They are verily our version of Santa Claus!

Last year our children along with cousins and friends, played their own version of the popular game ‘Secret Santa’; and renamed it ‘Secret Ganesha’! Well! Why not? In this age of globalisation, when Haldi wala doodh is going places as Turmeric Latte and the humble Golgappe have reached Five star hotel menus as ‘Puffed semolina crispies filled with spicy potatoes and chickpeas, filled with shots of tangy flavoured water’; why can’t we innovate and have a Secret Ganesha?

Well! I was impressed by the thoughtful gifts that popped out of Secret Ganesha’s bag of goodies. There were warm socks, mittens, caps, chocolates, cosy pyjamas etc. What followed was a quiz about the names of Ganesha, his parents, siblings, the reasons for his long nose and big tummy … And everyone had a riot! The evening was spent chatting about Ganesha and Santa! I smiled … Bhagwan Baba always said that it’s important to respect all religions while being firmly rooted in our own.

He said, “There is only one religion, the religion of Love; There is only one language, the language of the Heart; There is only one caste, the caste of Humanity; There is only one God, He is Omnipresent.”

One of the NRI children said that she’d never had so much fun before … Secret Ganesha was a superhit! Her wistful expression as she hugged her cousins, coupled with tears of longing in her mother’s eyes, reminded me of a couplet,

“Lahu ke thae jo rishte, unhe chod ke aa gaye; 

sukoon aankhon ke saamne tha, mooh mod ke aagaye. 

Khazaane lut rahe thae, maa baap ki chaanv mein; 

hum kaudiyon ki khaatir, ghar chod ke aagaye!”

Starting this December, besides the usual NRIs trotting homewards, India will be hosting the G-20. Nearly 200 meetings of ministers and officials of the G-20 nations at 50 plus venues shall bring opportunities to showcase the cultural milieu of the country. G-20 delegates shall be gifted local products, so local handicrafts and products will be extensively promoted. The theme of India’s G-20 Presidency is, ‘Vasudhaiva Kutumbakam’ or ‘One Earth · One Family · One Future’. And that resonates with what Baba says - one religion, one language, one caste … and all this because we belong to the family of one God!

Chandigarh too shall be spruced up to host delegates from over 40 countries for two meetings of G-20 in January and March 2023. The Sukhna Lake and Rock Garden shall host cultural events. The city beautiful shall also get its share from Secret Ganesha’s bag of goodies!

If you’d like to share your thoughts about this please leave a message in the comments section below. I would be happy to see it!

(This article is published in The Hindustan Times today, 18.12.2022.)

[findingjoynweirdstuff]

Dream SMP Recap (March 4/2021) -      Life and Death

Foolish  has found signs of the Egg’s intrusion on his land near the Temple of Undying, and wonders if it’s finally time to step in... What is this new foe, with remarkable control over people’s minds?

And what does it mean to play god?

---

VOD LINKS:

Ponk

Tubbo

HBomb

Foolish

Tommy

Karl

Antfrost

Ranboo

---

- One thing leads to another, Tubbo visits HBomb’s savannah mansion, puts him on house arrest, revokes it because H put on a suit, and forms an AA board.

- Foolish sails in a boat wonders whether he’s been living...a little naively. 

“You would think after so many years, that I wouldn’t misunderstand things. That I would’ve learned lessons, that I would know everything, but...I guess there’s some meaning behind my name. I think it applies not just to me though, either...I think it applies to most creatures. I think everyone’s perhaps a little foolish.”

- He reaches the shore and shows that his statue has been covered in Blood Vines. 

“And boy was I foolish...I thought I was safe here.”

- He doesn’t fear the Egg, but it does bother him. He thought he didn’t need to pay much attention to it, that it was just a pest. But the Egg might require more attention than he assumed. He thought his statue, his cats, they would protect this place.

- How far is this thing willing to spread? What is it? An old foe, or a new one? Foolish gathers his full set of Netherite. He wonders who they could seek for help. Tommy? Technoblade?

"But then...it gets me thinking...other, perhaps, risky ideas...what about Dream? If Dream was not in prison right now, would he let it spread -- or maybe he’s in favor of the Egg! That’s what we don’t know."

- Foolish heads to the Egg Room. What makes the Egg special?

- He doesn’t hold any grudge against Bad or Ant or Punz or anyone else whose mind has been corrupted by the Egg. Mind control is an interesting thing. Not many creatures can do it.

- He meets eyes with Ponk, whose eyes are red. Foolish talks about how it’s unwise to think that one can tread the line and not become corrupted. Ponk tells him to come look. 

- The Egg starts to make noises...a laugh?

“Have we ever met before?”

- There’s a rattling noise.

“Do you have a name?”

The Crimson speaks, but for the first time, it’s not in reverse:

“LEAVE...”

“I don’t believe we’ve met before. You’re a new foe, something I’ve not quite seen in all my years...”

“You think you’re more powerful? Be careful...careful being naive.”

“Maybe so, maybe so, but we will see. ‘Cause you might have fucked up dragging me into this.”

- The Egg laughs.

“Laugh. Laugh if you want, we’ll see.”

“TIME WILL TELL.”

“Time...will...tell...in-deed!”

“Well, it was nice getting to know you. It was nice talking with you. And thank you for intruding!”

“BYE...BYE...”

- Foolish goes to leave, as the Egg continues to laugh. Someone will figure this out.

“What has the power to control minds? Witches, warlocks, perhaps could maybe influence one...Demons, Dreamons? Even they, I have seen, have the power to tinker with someone’s mind, but not control and twist so many at one time."

- Foolish returns to the Temple of Undying, a peaceful place.

“And that is what I’m trying to explain...that be careful! Be careful when you think you’re all high and mighty, ‘cause little do you know until it’s too late...that maybe there is something above you...”

“If the Egg was really so powerful, let me see it here. I want to see its vines right here.”

- He thought the Egg was a pest, that it would just die on its own. It looks like he might need to start talking with more people.

“I like to build...and there’s still...a room that I have up my sleeve. A room that, as far as I know, no one knows about...it’s still a last resort. I don’t think we’re quite needing this yet, but...it’s still something to keep in mind.”

- There’s a room in Foolish’s basement under the statue, a special staircase down. He hesitates, but does not go down there yet.

“Tinkering with life and death, it’s...very profound. It shouldn’t just be toyed with lightly.”

“But this...this is something I’ll no longer take lightly.”

---

Tommy’s Resurrection

(Again, this part of the recap will be more detailed)

---

- Tommy’s before-stream screen starts with “Undertale” playing. There’s nothing but a black screen.

“Am I dead?”

“Hello, Tommy.”

- Tommy asks Wilbur how long is left. Wilbur goes to check, saying there are eight more eons to go.

- Wilbur offers Tommy competitive solitaire.

- Schlatt and Mexican Dream are also there, though Wilbur thinks Schlatt’s been asleep for around three months.

- Wilbur is happy that Tommy’s there. 

“Me and you were never good for that server...you can look at the entire history, and it all falls in our laps...”

“I genuinely think if it weren’t for me and you dying, the server would be in shambles. I know for a fact that if I’m brought back in some way it’s definitely just gonna go to shit again. I know what I’m like, that’s the issue.”

- Tommy says he hates it here. Wilbur says his plan is, in a couple months, they can set up a competitive solitaire arena.

- Wilbur’s voice disappears.

“Tommy...Tommy? Wake up.”

- Tommy wakes up in the cell with Dream.

- Dream asks what it was like. Tommy says it was dark. Dream asks if there were others there, Tommy says there was Schlatt, Mexican Dream -- Dream sounds excited about Tommy talking with Schlatt.

- Dream asks...what did it feel like? Death? No one has ever been dead and been back before.

Dream: “I was kind of scared it wouldn’t work...”

Tommy: “You were scared it wouldn’t work?”

Dream: “I mean I never tried it...”

- Tommy explains that death felt like being pulled apart and put back together again.

- Dream asks what was Wilbur like.

Tommy: “Do you remember what Wilbur was like? Here?”

Dream: “Yeah! Wilbur was awesome!”

- Dream tells Tommy everyone thinks he’s still dead.

Dream: “Tell me one more time, what was it like. When you die, what does it feel like?”

Tommy: “I felt like I was shredded to dust--”

Dream: “Did it feel good?”

Tommy: “No, no, it didn’t feel good, it felt like I was put through a shredder. There was no blood, there was no flesh, there was just essence.”

Tommy: “A tunnel of black and void, not even black just colorless.”

- Dream said he tried to give Tommy time. Tommy says he was in there for months. He asks where Tubbo, Jack and Phil are. Dream asks how long he was in there. Tommy says a month or so.

Dream: “Tommy, you were there for two days, Tommy.”

- They lost count when “Schlatt started doing the thing,” but they were counting. Tommy says that was just the first “round,” and Schlatt insisted they count like that...they kept count up until about a month and 20 days.

Tommy: “He always liked the number 18...”

- Dream says he only did it to prove that the revive book was real. Tommy remembers the book...it’s real. It’s actually real.

Dream: “I...I’m a god! I can bring people back to life, I didn’t even know for sure that I could, but I can! I’m actually a god! I -- this -- I could kill people and just bring them back if I wanted to!”

- Tommy asks how long Wilbur’s been dead. Dream says he’s not sure...maybe six months?

- Tommy says that the things Wilbur talked about, said he would do...

Tommy: “Promise me, never, EVER -- Dream look at me, LOOK AT ME! -- NEVER bring back Wilbur...please, please, please. Dream, I thought he was like my brother, alright, even before, I wasn’t sure, I tried going to his revival...Dream, I’ve been there for so long now, I take every ounce of doubt I had back. Do not. Bring back. Wilbur. EVER.”

“Dream, you are NOTHING. You are FINE, we can be friends if you don’t bring him back, all the tragedies you’ve done--”

- Dream says it’s up to him. Maybe he’ll flip a coin!

“Dream...why did you keep asking me how it was?”

Dream: “I just -- I wanna know! It’s interesting!”

- Dream wonders if they could send him back to figure out more.

Tommy: “You’re too powerful -- you’re too powerful! ...Dream? Burn the book. Burn the book, now, Dream! You think you understand -- you don’t understand this, this is so much bigger than that. The TRAUMA, everything -- you couldn’t even comprehend what I’ve gone through, alright? Burn the book now, please.”

- Dream says he doesn’t have the book, just the information, the knowledge inside of it, and he can’t burn knowledge.

Dream: “I wanna know about death, you know? We can study it! We can study it together! We can become IMMORTAL together! By studying it!”

- Tommy tells Dream to burn the book again, but Dream insists that it’s in his mind, he can’t get rid of that. He goes over to the lava and throws one of his books in.

Dream: “I can burn every book that I have and it will do nothing.”

...

Dream: “How am I even gonna die? I’m in this--”

Tommy: “Dream? I have to kill you. This isn’t even a matter of disliking you or not, disregard all of our previous entaglements -- you have to die.”

Dream: “Okay...go on then. Kill me.”

- Dream simply goes to the corner, waiting.

Dream: “Go ahead. Do it.”

Tommy: “This is where you die, in the prison...and you’re fine with this?”

Dream: “Here, use some potatoes, just like with you.”

Tommy: “And you’re fine with this? You’re fine with me just beating you to -- you die, and revival goes down with you, and I’ll kill you in the fuckin’ prison! The prison you would’ve never fucking get out of, if only I hadn’t come here, and I wouldn’t have been trapped in here, I would’ve been fucking fine, so now I’m gonna kill you, and I’m gonna be trapped alone. I’m gonna...and I’m gonna be in here...”

- Tommy starts, but then stops.

Tommy: “And if I kill you now, then I’ll be in here...then I’ll be stuck in here. And I know the book I signed. I can’t...so if I kill you in here, what happens if I kill you in here?”

- Dream says that Awesam is mad with him so no one would even realize Tommy was in there for a while. Tommy wonders about the conditions of the waivers -- the books meant breaking in, not trying to kill, right?

- Dream says it could be a couple months before Awesam checks again, he might assume Dream had gotten out.

Dream: “Kill me if you want, I’m fine! I’ll stand right by the lava, you could punch me into it, I’ll set myself on fire.”

He steps into the lava, lighting himself on fire.

“Come on. Go ahead.”

- Tommy knows that Sam takes his job as warden seriously, he knows what he signed.

Tommy: “I can’t kill you in here, because then I’ll be in here forever myself, and then...and then it’ll be worse than down there! Or up there -- I don’t know where it was -- but it will be worse than...it will be worse than death. And then I’ll have to die in here, and then I’ll go back there...with no more memories, no more anything, just suffering.”

- Dream says that now that Tommy knows, though once Tommy gets out of the prison, he can go and tell everyone that Dream has the book, that he wasn’t lying. Tommy can tell everyone that Dream was telling the truth.

Tommy: “I can’t kill you...I can’t kill you...I need to kill you, and I can’t.”

- Dream realizes that he could kill Tommy, kill Tubbo, and just bring them back!

Dream: “Everyone...is my puppets.”

- Tommy is horrified that Dream would kill him just to prove a point.

Tommy: “With this much power...you killed me.”

Dream: “You wouldn’t believe me! What else am I gonna do?”

Tommy: “You killed me to prove your own point -- you could’ve just showed me, you could’ve just -- this is so evil, this isn’t like before -- you put me through torture, through pain, to prove a POINT, Dream! That’s fucked! You can’t do that to me, to any --”

Dream: “Why? I can, Tommy! You didn’t believe me! You were calling me a liar, how else am I supposed to prove it?”

...

Tommy: “You’re. nothing, Dream, you don’t know what it’s like. You’re not just evil now, you are fuckin’ demented. Fuck you. Fuck you, man. Seriously, more than before -- you’re not just a villain, you’re not just the villain in the history books -- you are the fuckin’ Devil, man.”

- Dream says he has to let Tommy out of there alive

Dream: “Otherwise Sam will cut off my visitors, he’ll feed me less, he’ll do all these things -- but what I will do -- I’ll let you free, I’ll let you free, we’ll call for Sam, we’ll get him in here, he’ll let you out. But...I’m gonna bring back Wilbur...and (laughs) Wilbur’s gonna help me escape. He will owe me his life! And he’s been there for how many years? He’s probably the smartest man on the entire planet!”

“I’m bringing back Wilbur.”

---

- Back at his summer home, Foolish speaks with Bad, telling him that while he was at first neutral about the Egg, he’s starting to hate it.

- Bad arrives at the Temple. Foolish tells him that he feels a bit bad for Bad, he used to be good! And deep down, Foolish thinks Bad needs to be freed.

- Bad replies that even so far out here, Foolish is still vulnerable. 

- Foolish tells Bad to leave. Bad does so.

Afterwards, he thinks to himself.

“This is a spit in the face of everything that this summer home stands for...This Temple of the Undying? It’s life, happiness, not whatever this is. Absolutely not. You know, I haven’t spilled any blood, I’m a peaceful man, I don’t like death. I don’t like death at all.” 

(He shows his stats -- “Players killed: 0″) 

“And I’m going to do my best to keep it that way.”

- He says he’ll do his best to resolve things peacefully, but when it comes down to it, he may have to kill for the greater good. Doing things peacefully might lead to his downfall. Is he being naive, thinking that things can be resolved without violence?

“Thinking that this could be fixed peacefully -- maybe that’s my problem, maybe that’s why I’m still searching for answers, ‘cause I think peaceful -- the peaceful approach is the right way -- maybe it’s not! Maybe it’s not...”

“But I’m still gonna maintain the hope that it is.”

---

It’s time for Tales From the SMP: “The Haunted Mansion!”

This episode takes place a bit into the future.

---

The Cast:

- Connor plays Connor

- Karl plays Karl

- Sapnap plays Rash

-  Dream plays Francis

- Punz plays Joey

- George plays Greg

- Tubbo and Ranboo play the twins, Ash (Tubbo) and Zachary (Ranboo)

- Techno plays Porkums, who has a very silly hat

- Bad plays Gump

---

- Karl meets Connor, who introduces Karl to his friends. They’ve rented an AirBNB at the mansion.

- Connor introduces Karl to everyone. Ash and Zachary have lots of milk.

- Karl has them sit in a circle to play Duck-Duck-Goose 

- Somebody’s at the door...Schlatt?

- Connor introduces him. He’s been completely dead for a couple months. According to Schlatt, he spent some time reflecting on his time as President and decided to become a landlord and rent out some places for AirBNBs. 

- Schlatt shows them the million-dollars-a-night property.

- Connor questions the logic of Schlatt having this massive property in a server whose economy has been characterized by numerous governments collapsing. Schlatt explains they invested in cryptocurrency.

- Schlatt shows them My Castle and tells Connor to press his very special button. Nothing happens, so Schlatt fishes him out of view and Connor disappears.

- Schlatt explains that he built this castle as a fun game! There are three beacons, and they all need items to be activated. If they find all the nether stars, they can see Schlatt’s lair, where Connor is trapped!

- Everyone wonders what if they don’t really want Connor that much? Could they have something else, like Haribos?

- They go down the first hall of trials. Schlatt leaves them.

- They retrieve the Nether Star and debate who should be the one to put it in. Porkums is selected. Schlatt fishes him behind a wall and disappears him and his silly hat.

- They go through the next trials as Schlatt plays Trance Music for Racing Game.

- They get the second Nether Star and return to pick the next person. Karl brings up how he was on Schlatt’s side the whole time in Manberg, and Schlatt talks about how he’s changed since then and become a landlord.

- Francis puts the next star in and gets teleported to the lair.

- Glatt tries to take Ash as well so that he can teach him about real estate but accidentally gets the wrong twin and sends Zachary down instead.

- They go through the last hall, the red one, and retrieve the Nether Star. Greg puts it in.

- They pull a lever and a pathway appears leading down into the basement. They find everyone down there chilling in a pool. Connor greets them.

- Schlatt and Connor used to run a business together on another server...

(SMPLive canon?)

- Karl goes to the Inbetween and starts reading.

“Welcome back :]”

- He reads some more and finds a Nether Portal with a book labelled “STOP” warning him to not stray from the path.

- The Inbetween is a hot destination for time travelers to return to! :]

- He finds another book:

“GO UNDER THE TREE. YOU CAN’T AFFORD NOT TO.”

“THANK GOD YOU FOUND IT. IT CAN’T SEE YOU DOWN HERE.”

- Another book, again in all-caps, tells him that the castle isn’t what it seems, and he doesn’t want to learn the truth about those other forms of him. He needs to find a way to the portal.

- A line of books tells him to stick to the path.

:] writes another book telling him that the Inbetween is gorgeous! What more is there to ask for?

“It’s a time traveller’s dream.”

- Karl will return to his library. The stories need to be preserved.

“The SMP needs you, and you need me. We make a good team! See you soon! :]”

---

[oldguardhc]

Old Guard hc #113

AN: I’m never letting this go. Prev AA. Also, this is bc we’ve had a lot of drama in the fandom lately, so I hope this cheers some people up!

Joe toes his shoes off as quietly as he can and creeps into the living room. Nicky’s busy channel surfing from the sofa, flipping to the next channel every other second and creating a continuous blur of pixels. Over eight-hundred channels and his ridiculously picky husband can’t find a thing to watch. Joe can’t help but roll his eyes, lips stretching into a fond smile. He loves the ridiculously picky potato on the couch, even when it means watching a second of every single channel for half an hour only to settle on a rerun of The Munsters.

Creeping up on Nicky is laughably easy. Nicky doesn’t even twitch from his spot as he silently pads through the living room to the back of the couch. It’s a sign of trust that Joe’s not above exploiting every once in awhile.

In one clumsy motion, Joe teeters over the back of the couch and onto the love of his life. Their knees painfully knock together and he has to wrap his arms around Nicky’s shoulders to stop himself from rolling off the couch, his calculations severely off.

Nicky groans and drops the remote to help steady him. “What are-“

“Affection attack!” Joe says and surges up to connect their lips. He kisses Nicky enthusiastically, even when Nicky is still too busy gaping at him, and because he’s an ass, he makes sure to leave extra spit behind as he attacks his husband’s mouth.

Nicky, finally getting with the program, pushes Joe’s face away with one hand and wipes his mouth with the other in disgust.

“Hey! I put extra love in that one!” Joe says, pouting as Nicky wipes his hand on Joe’s shirt.

“We need to redefine love and affection if you think this was it,” Nicky responds, picking the remote back up and ignoring Joe. That’s not only completely unacceptable, it’s rude. Joe just spent the last two minutes pouring his affection to his lesser half and this is how he gets repaid?!

Joe sticks his face in Nicky’s line of sight. “Nicolò. Nicolò.” Joe pecks Nicky’s nose. “Stop ignoring me.” He kisses Nicky’s eyes, cheeks, lips and Nicky’s face scrunches up all cutely and his lips are pressed tightly together in a desperate attempt to stop himself from smiling. Joe presses several kisses there in a row. “You’re smiling. Nicolò, you’re smiling. Kiss back!”

Nicky cracks open an eye and when Joe leans down to peck him again, he receives the lamest kiss in existence. Joe lets out a dramatic sigh while slowly pushing himself up. “Fine, I’ll go do an AA to Book-“

Joe doesn’t even get to finish the sentence. Nicky pulls him back down and kisses him to within an inch of his life.

When they break apart, both panting for air, Nicky’s fingers idly playing with the curls at the nape of his neck, Nicky gives him a half-smile. “Knew you were gonna do one.”

Joe laughs. “Sure,” he says and snuggles into Nicky’s chest.  

They cuddle and watch The Munsters for the rest of the day.