#take whatever position is necessary yanno

[whereisthedamndaddymanual]

She throws one shot of her with no clothes and the pose and lighting I am looking for

*smashes reblog without even realizing what I am reblooming"

[alyjojo]

Family Ties ⛪️ - May 2024 - Taurus

Overall Energy: The Hanged Man rev

Clarified by Ace of Swords rev & The Moon, which I wasn’t sure about until I got everything else out here and now it’s clear: you’re the problem 🎶 Ta-da! The Hanged Man in reverse can show a refusal to see things from anyone else’s perspective - typical fixed energy - or a necessary ego death. Which is what this is, or needs to be, especially where your sibling/s are concerned; they literally have the card of Egotism, and you both have The Moon so…they also could be part of the problem. If there’s tension, it’s showing up there specifically. You have all of this murky confusion, this hidden nature, you could even come off as kinda shady to others - like there’s something hidden. Where a sibling is concerned, there very well could be something hidden you just don’t talk about, or they don’t. Or both of you may expect the others to take sides, and they don’t. If you think they do, no. Things are unclear to you because you don’t communicate and make things clearer, seek to understand or even say how you feel about things. Mom & Dad both have Swords, neither is confused or quiet about anything, it’s you. You may know parents of a different time than your siblings, like you’re the one that knows the secrets, or that could be switched with the sibling & it leaves you feeling very confused & left out. But you don’t say that - or anything about how you feel - which would help.

Mother: 6 Cups rev & Ace of Swords

Oracle: Appreciation 🤲 - Moon Leo

17 Flash

A creative flash of inspiration will come to you and quickly give you the perfect solution.

Three Scorpio cards for Mom wow, she may be opposite to you in some way, but one that feels very balanced & healthy. Positive, deeply loving, and full of ideas. Moon Scorpio shows up at the bottom of the oracles, you could have a very close connection to your sister sign, have it in your chart, or be in a family full of them…Spirit likes to do that with opposites/squares. You may not always date them easily but you love them when it’s your MOM yanno, you deal. I’m getting heavy Empress energy from all of these flowers in the 6 Cups & Appreciation cards, you’ve got a great mama. I’m getting she loves to have flowers 💐 around, she may always have them or likes to grow them, could even work with them somehow. It’s possible your parents are split, for some, you may not fully understand why this happened or how it did, they may have never really been clear about that specifically. She doesn’t like to focus on sad, bad, none of that, just progress. She may be with someone else that you don’t know too well, or even understand how this all happened. They could be a water sign. Or they’re just very loving, maybe the strong & silent type.

There are clear indications of past addictions; drugs, drinking, doesn’t have to be the worst of it but it’s being shown as having played a role in your experience. Or just theirs. Both parents have removed themselves from whatever this was, both have taken control of any toxicity or issues that had them stuck, addicted or confused. If someone cheated, that was what ended it, or someone may have had a difficult addiction that forced the other to move away from this connection. 6 Cups rev shows Mom is over it, she’s done her healing work, and Ace of Swords shows she has no problem cutting through any confusion or being forthcoming and honest with her feelings related to how life has changed for her. Appreciation - she’s very grateful for whatever has occurred because of what it’s brought her. There is a lot of growth, Empress, it brought her you? Maybe your sibling/s. Could be. With Moon Leo, Flash, and Ace of Swords, your mother could have flashes of insight and inspiration, her personality comes off as very bright ☀️ and almost “larger than life” even. A positive force to be reckoned with, and someone who enjoys helping cut through your confusion too - like a personal cheerleader, she probably tells you a lot about self worth, and what you deserve. She likes to inspire your creativity & values the arts, she may be some kind of a creator - or if you do this, she’s very proud of what you create 🎭

I’m also getting she can see right through you, but also that it’s a good thing, she may seem to read your mind sometimes or you could have expressions & non-verbal cues she can immediately pick up on, or switch it.

Father: Knight of Swords & The Devil rev

Oracle: Endurance 💪 - Sun Scorpio

64 Actualization

You will achieve your full potential by virtue of your creativity and your honest pursuit of truth.

Hmm. Moving on to Dad and reflecting on Mom, in some cases it could be you with a drug problem or some kind of addiction, and both of them are united in telling you the truth about these things. Or this could pertain to a sibling - there could be a prodigal son type of personality. Someone, somewhere, has addiction issues; and that of course affects an entire family - not just the addict. In the case it was your father, he’s clean now; and not only is he clean, but he has an intense focus and drive that makes him almost untouchable. He’s the kind of person that, when he sets his mind to something, only God themself could stop him, and it’s referring to The Devil rev, kicking a toxic habit. If your parents are split, one may have entertained options, or chose substances/something unhealthy, and the other had to release it. If so, that’s the past, and both have healed from this & have done major self work. Could be switched too, they heavily reflect each other’s energy - some aren’t apart at all, in fact, some may have “kicked” a bad habit as a team. Like they both went on a massive weight loss/health journey, or they both quit drinking/smoking, it doesn’t have to be separate - just for some it is. Dad will absolutely tell it like it is, and when he wants something done, you can bet it will be done 💯 Reflecting Mom, both have seemed to come far - comparing the past to now, in whatever way. Both seem to have no issue being honest and communicating this.

Siblings: 10 Pentacles & The Moon

Oracle: Egotism 🤴 - Mars Leo

20 Willpower

Use your willpower to bravely overcome thoughts of compromise and defeat.

I’m seeing true addict energy with the sibling, either them or you - and it could be something passed down or learned from the parents, or the parents may have had to cut off this person…let’s assume it’s you. Some of you may not speak to your family at all because of drugs or some kind of unhealthy issue. For some, that’s a sibling. This sibling’s energy is reflected as not having their shit together at all. This is someone that’s out for financial gain, possibly using people, always borrowing money and asking for favors because, they’d rather spend their money on drugs (that’s the example). Their energy being represented by The Moon, Queen of Pentacles rev & 7 Swords is a big yikes, this is the kind of person who will stop at nothing to swindle you out of something, to manipulate you into giving to them - financially. They may have an unhealthy dependency on the parents, or just refuse to get a job, but constantly need some sort of funding for…hidden bs. They’re very strategic and manipulative, and their intentions are always hidden below the surface, but family knows what’s up. Egotism and Willpower show that they see ZERO wrong in their actions and probably project blame onto others, a very *entitled* sort of person. The party don’t start until you walk in, with a rather large false bravado like so much has been attained in life - and yet really, nothing has. Very harsh judgements towards the other person, or The Emperor rev at the bottom can be reflecting parents and having to cut them/you off, again. If one person is away from the family and choosing addiction, there is deep resentment from the sibling. You have similar egos, judgements, the same general annoyance and protective behavior, and you’re more alike then you’d like to admit - yet nothing alike. They’re just as stubborn as you are, but definitely more arrogant. But who is right…neither, it seems. Or more likely, both have valid points.

Grandparents: Temperance & 3 Cups

Oracle: Criticism - Mars Virgo

39 Direction

Switch gears, reboot, and try a new and different direction.

I’m getting a grandmother in particular, one that…I don’t want to say nitpicky, but they have high standards, and it’s known they can cut right to the heart of things, sometimes even harshly. They try to hold back, probably with age, they much rather prefer happy occasions to be happy and everyone celebrating. “Not my circus, not my monkeys,” when it comes to everyone else’s issues. That seems like a learned lesson, because they’re also the hub of the social scene family-wise, there’s no doubt they’re aware of everyone else’s drama, it’s just most times they choose to not speak up or partake in it. They are known for being able to cut things right down to the nitty gritty when need be though, like taking someone’s essay and summarizing it in one very blunt sentence, there’s no fooling her. Luckily she’s peaceable and accepting of everyone generally, she doesn’t mind differences of opinions or choices in life, and she isn’t super judgmental. Buuut, fk around and find out 💯 Grandma is good people. Could be more grandparents but I’m only picking up on one specifically. She doesn’t take sides.

Spiritual Ancestors/Guides: The Star & The Tower rev

Oracle: Vision 👁️ - Sun Pisces

13 Innovation

Have fun and experiment, inventing something that surprises and has never existed before.

76 Cycles

The wind blows, the wheel turns. We go through cycles just like Nature because we are a part of Nature.

You’re healing from a near miss, something that could’ve been an absolute disaster, but Spirit (or this ancestor) pulled you out in the nick of time…something like that. It’s love related, could definitely involve a Twin Flame connection with The Star & The Lovers. If you’re recently separated from a Twin, this is confirming the intense bond you feel, and intuitively sense with this all-seeing eye on Vision - and probably can’t understand. 9 Cups rev at the bottom. I’m not sure what the near miss is - but divine timing is at play, and you’re realizing this isn’t what you want. Or it’s not time, and they won’t/can’t be, the two of you are not aligned on the same frequency. Your guides and ancestors have your happiness in mind, so whatever is a miss is for your benefit, even if it doesn’t seem that way. They want you to have fun with this next cycle, see the positive in it, get creative with it, and heal. Happy Accident at the bottom is going to show you why everything had to go this way. You’re absolutely where you’re meant to be at this time, and wherever you’re heading from here, it seems like something exciting - you just don’t know it yet, but it’s meant for you ⭐️ A soulmate could be coming in for you soon, regardless of a Twin or no Twin - not everyone will resonate with that, and you’ll see why the last one couldn’t have worked out. Some could be meeting their Twin for the first time.

[ririretry]

A Brand Freaking New Year

My mom told me and my brother that we have to come up with some New Year's resolutions by the end of the week. I haven't started thinking about it, which is totally fine.

"It's only Wednesday," she says with no idea with what she wants her resolutions to be.

I'm not one that believes in New Year's resolutions. I used to, but then sometime, somewhere, someone on the internet told me that they're unsustainable. MAKES TOTAL SENSE! I agree! We write down a bunch of fluff that we think we can tackle by the end of the year, and by the 3rd week, we give up. That and my favorite argument that I always used was the whole, "why do you need one day to define your whole year" thing. Like, someone can make goals at any day of the year, why does it have to be January 1st - "if you really wanted to reach your goal, you'd start right now." And yeah, I get all of the sentiment. I understand. We're all little weak-minded individuals that need instant change and gratitude and can't handle the necessary means that it takes to set goals, fulfill them, and continue trudging through a generally sucky world.

But, here I am! About to write down some resolutions. I really think that I can do it this year. Looking back, I did do a few things on my vIsiOn BoaRd considering I looked at that thing once. It was very pretty.

ANyway. On with it

1. Reestablish healthy levels of dopamine

My only issue is my phone consumption and automatically, my social media consumption. THROUGH the roof. Embarrassingly too high. Makes me sick, frustrated, and unruly. I hate going on my phone, but I literally cannot help it. It really do be an addiction, so I'm gonna do whatever it takes to actually not be obsessed with my phone. Starting rn!! Timers to Snapchat and Youtube were set. I deleted Instagram off my phone because that's honestly an easier one to delete. Twitter and Instagram are still on my laptop, and I'm gonna keep that because I'm easily less likely to go on my laptop to scroll on the media. I also don't watch Youtube on my laptop that much?

2. Become my own best friend

Haha! I hate myself! Nothing new, but I’ve been slowly becoming my own friend again. Not yelling at myself all the time - allowing myself to make mistakes - not expecting perfection - not invalidating my own feelings - trying to build my own confidence again - being sure of my words and self even if I’m unsure, being sure of my uncertainty..... A lot. Yanno maybe take myself out on dates and make time for me. I just want to trust myself again, and be my own friend. I deserve that level of respect and love to myself especially if I provide that for my friends. 

3. Invest in my hobbies, skills, and interests

With my newly established dopamine, I will also make more times for things that matter in my life such as: painting, drawing, guitar, bass, podcasting, writing on here perhaps, etc.. This goes hand in hand with my first resolution, so hopefully this comes naturally. I am a little nervous because I have neglected these things before as I’ve gone on this journey multiple times. I am going to have to figure out how I’m going to allot time to these things. These things require effort, and being on my phone did not. I’m naturally a tired person, but maybe that was my phone. I dunno! We will SEE!

4. Create meaningful relationships

I haven’t been the type to maintain friendships. I’ve gotten better. I have three solid lifetime friendships, which is more than most people can say and I’m so endlessly grateful for them. I have 4-6 solid good friends, which is also awesome, and a bunch of acquaintances that easily could be great friends had I put a little more effort. I’m not looking for more friends because I am very content with the people that I have, but I do want to make every interaction I have with someone meaningful and positive. This requires a little more effort in reaching out, keeping and making plans, and establishing a solid friendship even if it doesn’t last forever. I say this mostly because I’ve closed myself off to people - mostly unintentional, and I want to understand others more. 

5. Mind, body, soul

Journal/Read, exercise/eat healthy, pray

Seems self explanatory, I’m pretty decent at like 1.5 of them. Praying is gonna be tough, but I do want to appreciate it more. But that want must turn into action, so I will pray. Maybe just listen at first, which I have done, but seriously like. It’s another outlet. I love my religion and what it stands for, so I should make time. 

6. Understand my career better

 Side quest, but a very important side quest. I wanna know what I might get into. How to do it. What can I do to understand it, so I wanna take a lot of time to really dig in and invest in my future. 

FINGERS CROSSED FOR NEW HORIZONS

[tobesolonely]

it’s not christmas ‘til you come home

a/n: hello!! please enjoy this piece from my dad!harry universe! (u dont have to read any of them for it to make sense, but it would be cool if u did! loosely based on it’s not christmas ‘til you come home by norah jones <3 hope you enjoy! thank u to @harryysstyless​ for beta reading for me!! happy holidays everyone :)

warnings: SMUT, a bit of angst <3 word count: ~5.1k 

my ko-fi! thank you :)

December 23rd, 2:00 PM

For as long as you and Harry have been in a relationship, you’ve never not spent a Christmas together. 

Before expanding your family, you and he used to hop from party to party every Christmas Eve. Both of you would be absolutely trashed by the time Harry’s driver would drop you off at his house in the early hours of the morning. You’d sleep in until approximately noon, willing your hangovers to go away before finally making it down the stairs and into the kitchen to prepare two steaming cups of coffee. The two of you would then make your way into the living room and exchange gifts (where Harry always went way over the budget you’d set). 

Once you had your first child, Allison, your yearly tradition of party hopping and getting so drunk you could hardly put one foot in front of the other was no more. Instead, you and Harry opted for calm nights in, watching Christmas movies and drinking hot cocoa until she eventually grew tired and got carried up to bed. You would wait an hour or so before springing into action, playing Santa and setting out all of the gifts she asked for and then some. Harry never forgot to take a big bite out of the cookie and carrot left out for Santa and his reindeer.

This tradition stayed the same once your second baby, Oliver, was born. Even though he was too young to know what was going on, Harry was still excited to spoil him rotten this year as it was his first Christmas. However, given the current state of the world, you were afraid Harry would not be here for the first time ever.

“Mumma, when’s daddy coming home?” your six-year-old, Ally, asked for what had to be the seventh time that afternoon. “I made him a drawing for his gift ‘nd I can’t wait for him to see it!”

“Let me see what you drew for Daddy, love bug,” you say cheerily, purposefully glossing over her question. Ally proudly holds her drawing up next to her face. She looks up at you with wide eyes, awaiting a compliment from you. 

“That’s gorgeous, bug! Daddy’s gonna love it,” you inform her. “Maybe you can stick a lil’ bow on it and set it under the tree for him, hmm?” 

“Good idea, Mumma!” Ally runs to the box where you kept all the supplies for gift wrapping, digging around for a pink bow to stick on the corner of her drawing.

While she’s preoccupied with finding the perfect bow to place on her drawing for Harry, you take a quick glance at your phone. He still hadn’t gotten back to you since last night’s quick conversation when he very briefly mentioned he didn’t know if he’d be able to make it home.

He was filming in Los Angeles. You shared your uncertainties about him going before he departed but in the end, this was an opportunity you didn’t want him to miss out on. You read the Los Angeles Times free articles on your phone daily, keeping track of the state of the pandemic in Southern California. You knew it was much worse there than it was at home in London. You feared what you were afraid of was sadly bound to happen— Harry may get stuck in LA.

You didn’t want to say anything to your curious daughter because communication with him had been so sparse. You didn’t know anything for certain yet. But what were you supposed to think? You knew flying nationally wasn’t a good idea at the moment, never mind internationally.

“Hey bug, d’ya think you can watch your brother for a moment? Mumma’s gotta go make a phone call.” 

You hear your daughter let out a slightly irritated sigh. “I suppose I can, Mumma.” Ally responds with a voice laced with exasperation. You chuckle slightly under your breath at your overly dramatic (much like her dad) six-year-old and head into the kitchen, quickly dialing your husband’s familiar number.

“Hello?” 

You let out a sigh of relief upon hearing Harry’s low, hoarse voice. 

“Hi, honey. Just checkin’ in to see how things are going…” you hear shuffling on his end. “It’s December 23rd, you know.”

“I know, love.”

“Did I wake you?”

“Six in tha’ mornin’ here.”

“I’m sorry, H. S’just Allison keeps on askin’ when you’ll be home and ‘m just so worried you won’t make it home on time and you’ll miss Oliver’s first Christmas—“

“Darling,” Harry interrupts your anxiety-fueled ramble. “‘M gonna make it home. Have I ever not been there when I said I would?” 

“No,” you say quietly. “I’m just worried, Harry. I hear traveling is going to get very strict because they’re trying to prevent people from going anywhere for Christmas…”

“Fine, then I’ll get my own plane with jus’ me and a pilot. Wear a mask the entire time and whatnot. Yanno I can make that happen if it’s necessary, pet.” 

Harry’s calm demeanor about the whole situation brings you a bit of peace. Perhaps you were catastrophizing something that wasn’t as big of a deal as you thought it was a mere two minutes ago. If he wasn’t worried about not making it home, you didn’t see any reason to stress about it— not for one second longer.

“Okay then,” you reply, still a bit wary of his travel plans. “What shall I tell your daughter? She’s drivin’ me up the walls asking where you are every twenty minutes.”

Your husband lets out a breathy laugh, causing you to giggle along with him. “Tell her not to eat up all the Christmas cookies before I get a taste of one.”

December 24th, 8:45 AM

Part of you was hoping you’d wake up on Christmas Eve and Harry would be tucked into bed next to you, plump lips parted, the sound of his snores the only noise in the room. However, you were a rational woman, if nothing else. You knew he wouldn’t be by your side when you woke up. 

You make your way down the hall and peek inside your son’s room. He was fast asleep, plump thumb in his mouth. You smile at your sleeping baby and gently close the door behind you, deciding to let him sleep in a bit longer before waking him up to feed him. 

Next, you walk to your daughter's room, gently pushing open the door in case she was still sleeping. Instead, you find her sat at her desk, deeply focused on what appeared to be another drawing. 

“Good morning, lovebug,” you greet your daughter in a sing-songy voice. “You’re up early. What are you working on?”

“Makin’ a letter for Santa,” she replies, not bothering to look up from what she was doing. 

“A letter for Santa?” You start racking your brain for anything you and Harry could’ve possibly forgotten to get for Ally, but you finished your Christmas shopping for your children way back in November.

“Yes,” she answers matter-of-factly. “‘M askin’ him to make sure my Daddy is home by tonight so we can eat cookies together and watch Toy Story, Mumma.” 

“I’m sure Santa will make that happen for you,” you reassure her. “You’ve been a very good girl this year, been so helpful with Olly and doin’ so well in school. The least Santa can do is get you whatever you want.” You see her smile as she digs around in her crayon box.

“Can we wait ‘til Daddy gets home to make Santa’s cookies, Mumma?”

“Sure we can, bug,” Ally claps her hands together excitedly, bouncing around in her tiny chair. “Gonna go make some pancakes, does that sound yummy?”

“Can we have chocolate chip pancakes please?”

“Are you askin’ me that because your dad isn’t here to throw a fit about it?” You give her a knowing smile, causing her to giggle.

“Maaaaybe…” Your daughter turns to face you, swinging her legs back and forth.

“If I make your chocolate chip pancakes, you can’t tell your dad. Deal?” You hold up your pinky. Ally gets up and runs to you and you bend down slightly so she can link her finger with yours.

“I pinky promise, Mumma!”

“Our little secret, yeah?” she nods. “Keep an ear out for your brother for me, bug. I’ll be downstairs.”

December 24th, 3:00 PM

“Love? ‘M afraid I got some bad news...”

As soon as Harry’s voice comes through on the other line, you can tell whatever news he’s about to share with you won’t be what you’re wanting to hear.

“What is it?”

It’s silent for what feels like entirely too long. You get up from your position on the couch next to Ally, telling her you’ll be right back. After breakfast, she convinced you to watch Toy Story with her, which quickly turned into a whole Disney movie marathon.

“Not so sure I’ll be able to make it home.”

You’re not sure if it’s his calm tone that bothers you, the fact that you didn’t want him to go to Los Angeles in the first place, or simply the fact that you and your children missed him terribly and haven’t seen him in nearly a month–– but your mood changes from relaxed to undeniably outraged in three seconds flat.

“You’re kidding.” Your tone is sharp, venomous. Harry once again takes a moment before responding, knowing that the current tone of your voice means he’d best proceed with caution.

“‘M not, love. I woke up early and everything to try and get this sorted out, it’s 7 AM so I was gonna try and catch an early flight––”

“I told you I didn’t want you going to LA,” you cut him off, voice rising slightly. “You knew how bad the pandemic was getting there. I told you this would happen.”

“What do you suppose I do then, Y/N?” His tone is becoming equally as sharp. “Y’want me to tell ‘em, “Sorry, I don’t give a fuck about the travel restrictions. My wife wants me home so let's make it happen!” ‘S that what you want me to do?”

“Don’t be a smartass, Harry,” you spit. “I’ll give the phone to your daughter and you can tell her you won’t be home in time for Christmas, then.”

“Y/N…” his tone is calm again. Fearful. “Don’t make me do that.”

“She woke up early to write a letter to Santa to tell him she wants you home by tonight, Harry,” your tone softens as well. “Even Olly has been asking for you. Swear his new favorite word is ‘dada’.” He laughs at this as do you, and the shared tension that was present just minutes ago dissipates. 

“Just… lemme try a few more things before I tell her, yeah?”

“Harry, it’s already three here,” you gently remind him. “Even if you do make it home today, she’ll be asleep by the time you’re home. I think you just need to tell her.”

Your husband sighs, knowing you were undeniably correct. “Alright. Give Allison the phone, please.”

December 24th, 8 PM

“Almost time for you to head to bed soon, yeah Allybug?” Your daughter lets out a loud sigh in response, not shifting her gaze from the television to you. Ever since Harry told her he wouldn’t be home in time to eat cookies with her, she’s hardly said a word. She’s never experienced a Christmas Eve without her father so understandably, she was missing him tonight.

You shift Olly, who was falling asleep nursing on your lap, into a different position so you could face your daughter directly. From your new position, you can see just how tired she looks. 

“‘M not sleepy, Mumma. Gonna stay up and wait for Daddy,” she informs you of her new plans. “When Daddy is home that’s when it’s time for bed.”

“Ally, remember what Daddy told you on the phone earlier? Santa won’t come unless you go to sleep.”

“I don’t wanna sleep,” she’s quickly starting to grow upset. “Not until Daddy tucks me in!”

You purse your lips, not wanting to argue with your headstrong daughter when your son was so close to drifting off into his nightly milk coma. Turning your attention back to the movie that was quietly playing on the television, you decide to drop it for now and try again later.

December 24th, 9:05 PM

Not more than an hour later, Olly is upstairs in his crib fast asleep whilst Ally is still laying on the floor in front of the Christmas tree, fighting sleep. She was determined to stay up until her father walked through the front door, and you knew getting her to agree to go to bed was going to be a battle and a half.

“You’re not ready to go to bed yet, Ally?” Her eyes fly open once she hears you addressing her.

“Not yet, Mumma. ‘M not sleepy yet.” Her words are a little slurred due to the exhausted state she was in. You hum in response.

“Could’ve sworn your eyes just shut for a minute there,” you pause for a second to see if she’ll look your way. “Must’ve just been my old lady eyes playin’ tricks on me, y’think?”

“I wasn’t sleeping!” She immediately defends herself, frown lines indenting her forehead. “Can we drink more hot chocolate?”

You knew if you wanted your daughter to fall asleep within the hour, another sugar rush wasn’t the best idea. You instead offer her a hot cup of sleepytime tea and she excitedly agrees once you tell her it’s her father’s favorite type of tea to drink at bedtime. You place her down on the kitchen counter while you fill the kettle and wait for it to whistle.

“What are you looking forward to the most from Santa, bug?” 

Her eyes light up at your question. “Well, I really want a new bike! ‘Member Mumma? How I asked him for a pink bike? And I also want a cool swing set! Since we haven’t been able to go to the park in so long,” her smile falters and she looks down at her dangling feet. “I want Daddy to come home the mostest, though.”

Your heart feels like it’s going to break in two upon hearing your daughter admit that Harry being home would be the greatest gift of all. “So do I, lovebug. He’ll be here in the mornin’ to watch you and your brother open all the gifts Santa got you though, don’t you worry.”

For everyone’s sake, you hoped that was true.

December 24th, 11:50 PM

Sleep wasn’t coming easy. 

You finally got your daughter to bed at around ten o’clock and waited thirty minutes before laying out your children’s gifts. It took much longer than it usually did considering you had to do it all on your own. Harry was usually the one to quickly assemble the larger toys while you laid everything out around the living room. 

Despite it taking longer than desired, you were proud that you got it all done without waking your children up. Consequently, that meant you were now left all alone with your thoughts considering you had no more tasks to occupy yourself with. 

You kept contemplating calling Harry, but you weren’t sure if he was busy on set or not. Surely he was immersing himself in work to distract himself from the fact he would not be spending Christmas with his family. 

Deciding you may need a cup of the sleepytime tea you offered Allison earlier, you quietly get out of bed and open your door, sock-clad feet padding softly against the wooden floors. It’s unnervingly silent in your home–– the tea kettle coming to a boil being the only source of noise. You keep unlocking and re-locking your phone, finally deciding to call your husband to see how he’s spending his day. It goes to automatic voicemail.

You assume the reason for this must be that he’s busy filming on set and set your phone down with a sigh, standing on your tiptoes to retrieve a mug from the cabinet. You mutter a slew of curse words under your breath intended for Harry who always puts the mugs up far too high even though you tell him not to.

Right as you begin pouring the now boiling water into your teacup, the faint jingling of your front door causes you to startle so badly that you nearly drop the kettle on the ground. You try to think back to everything Harry ever told you to do in the event of an intruder but your mind goes blank from fright. Deciding to use the scalding water as your weapon, you slowly creep towards the door, your only plan being to fling the water on whoever it was as soon as they got the door open. As soon as you hear the lock click, you flick the lid open that covers the spout and draw your arm back.

“Shit––”

“Harry?”

Your husband jumps slightly, his eyes blinking rapidly in an effort to adjust to the dark living room. You reach beside him and quickly turn on the light, shakily letting out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. He looks exhausted, his hair is an absolute mess, and his eyes are red from sleep deprivation–– but he’s home. You set the tea kettle down on the coffee table and fling yourself into his arms, breathing in the scent of the man you haven’t seen in a month. He drops his bags at his feet so he can properly embrace you, pulling you into him.

“Merry Christmas, darling,” he presses a kiss to the top of your head and stays like that for a moment saying nothing, just breathing you in. “Missed ya so fuckin’ much.

“How? I thought…” you trail off. “You said that they said…”

Harry laughs quietly. “Remember what I told ya? I said to ‘em, ‘Don’t give a fuck about your travel restrictions! M’wife wants me home.’” You laugh at him, knowing he was far too kind to talk to anyone that way. 

“Yeah, okay,” you reply sarcastically. You pull him in for another hug, placing wet kisses along his jawline. “I’m so happy you’re home. The kids are gonna be over the moon, especially Allison.” Harry hums, surveying the room.

“Looks like you did a good job in here, Mrs. Claus. See ya even assembled some toys all by yourself,” he quirks an eyebrow. “Were you jus’ pretendin’ not to know how to do it all these years so I’d be stuck with all the hard labor?”

“Maybe.”

He pulls you back into him, tickling your sides. “My sneaky girl,” he bends down so his lips are level with your neck and sucks gently, causing you to let out a quiet moan. You see his eyes land on the tea kettle that was sitting forgotten on the coffee table. “Making a cuppa? Can I have one? ‘M freezin’.”

“I can think of something else we can do to get you warmed up,” you reach for his hands, interlocking his fingers with yours. “If you know what I’m gettin’ at.”

“Hmm…” Harry releases one of his hands from your grip and taps at his chin, pretending to be deep in thought. “Not too sure I can say I know what you’re sayin’. Maybe you should just tell me?”

You frown. “You’re really gonna make me say it, huh?”

“Y’know I’d give you the entire world if you asked me for it. All you gotta do is tell me what you want from me and it’s yours–– ‘m sure you’ve known that since the first day we met, though.” Harry takes a step back, crossing his arms across his chest. Even in his thick winter coat, you can see the way his biceps flex, and it makes you even more feral for him.

“Fine,” you say quietly, feeling yourself start to grow shy under his intense gaze. “I’m kinda... in the mood.” You say it so softly that it would most likely be inaudible to Harry if he wasn’t standing mere inches away from you. Harry throws his head back in laughter and you quickly shush him, not wanting any of your children to wake up.

“In the mood? C’mon, pet,” he uncrosses his arms and reaches for one of your hands. “Tha’s not tellin’ me what you want from me. Tell me exactly what you want, lovie.”

“You know what I want, H,” you tell him with a hint of annoyance in your voice. “It’s been a month. Yanno I want you to fuck me, why are you makin’ me say it?”

Harry gives you a shit-eating grin. “You jus’ said it. I didn’t make you say anything.”

You roll your eyes at his immaturity, already in the process of lifting your nightshirt (one of his old t-shirts that’s become just a little too tight on him) over your head. “Are we gonna get to it or not? Because if not, I’ll just go back to makin’ myself some tea and call it a night––”

Harry takes half a step towards you and reaches up to cup your face, colliding his lips with yours. His lips are a little chapped and taste of his favorite rose lip balm. You feel your body relaxing into the kiss, knees going weak as he walks you back onto the couch.

“You’ve been eatin’ up all the sugar cookies, haven’t you? Can taste it on ya. Thought those were for Santa,” he’s pulled away from you to examine your face. “A bit naughty of you, wouldn’t ya say?”

“Please stop referring to yourself as Santa when we’re about to have sex, Harry.”

“You’re not bein’ very kind to the person that’s about to go down on you, are you?” He sucks harshly on the valley between your breasts, wanting to be sure a deep-colored bruise will appear on your skin later. “That’s okay. It is Christmas, after all. ‘M in a giving mood.”

“Stop talking and get to it then.”

Harry slides off the couch and onto his knees in between your legs, gently kissing your thighs. “Cute pair of undies–– s’like you knew I was comin’ home tonight.” Before you can respond Harry’s fingers are tugging at the waistband of your underwear, eager to get them off of you. He presses light kisses to your core, mumbling about how much he missed the smell of you and how sweet you tasted. 

One hand is resting across your stomach while the other one is in between your folds, spreading you open. You try squeezing your thighs around his head, overwhelmed by the feeling of your husband’s lips around your clit after being away from him for so long, but he removes his hand from your stomach and pushes your thighs back apart.

“Feels so good,” you’re breathless, tangling your fingers in Harry’s hair as his hollowed cheeks begin to suck more roughly on your clit. “Missed you so much. Missed this–– us.” 

Harry pauses momentarily to look up at you. “I know, angel. God, do I know.” He attaches his lips back on you, swirling his tongue around your clit as you  choke back your moans. The hand that is holding you open moves down to toy at your slit as he wordlessly checks to see if you’re okay with his fingers being in you. 

“Please,” you say softly, encouraging his next move. He spits on his index and pointer finger before slowly sliding both of them in you, immediately curling them up. “Oh, Harry. Fuckin’ love when you do tha’...”

“Know you do,” His response is curt, simple. He’s focused on the task at hand–– getting you off. He uses the hand that’s lying across your stomach to rub tight circles on your clit, sensing you’re nearing your orgasm from the way you’re starting to clench around him. “Such a good girl fo’ me, darlin’. Gonna make a mess on my fingers in a second, aren’t you?”

You nod as you try to control your breathing and the loudness of your moans. The last thing you wanted was for your daughter to come down to inspect the source of the noise. “Fuck, Harry.” 

“Come on, darlin’,” he gently pinches your clit, causing your body to jolt at the sensation. “Gimme a good one. A lil’ welcome back gift for me, hmm?” 

Your hips are bucking up to the rhythm of his fingers slipping in and out of you as your orgasm quickly approaches. “Har, I’m close…” it comes out sounding more like a warning than a statement. He moves the two fingers he has inside of you in a back and forth motion, coaxing your first orgasm out of you.

“Tha’s my girl,” he whispers, not stopping his movements even as your back arches as your first orgasm rolls over you like a giant wave. “Givin’ me a good one jus’ like I knew you would. Jus’ like you always do. M’ sweet girl.” As you’re starting to still, Harry pulls his fingers out of you and holds them up to your mouth, instructing you to suck them clean. 

You prop yourself up on your elbows so you can properly lean in to steal a kiss from him and notice a rather sizable tent has formed in his pants. Harry gives you a sheepish grin as he palms himself, hissing from the feel of his palm against his cock.

“Want me to do somethin’ about that?” You scoot over on the couch and pat the spot next to you, signaling for your husband to sit beside you. He lifts himself from his seated position, stretching his legs out a bit before plopping down beside you.

“Are you offerin’ me a blowie?”

“I mean, yeah?”

“Can we skip that an’ you can jus’ ride me instead? Think I’d quite like that.”

“Oh you would, would ya?”

Harry nods and unzips his pants, taking himself out. He licks his hand and gives himself a few pumps. “Still on birth control, I’m assuming?”

You roll your eyes as you move to straddle him. “Only been gone for a month, Harry. Of course ‘m still on it, you goof.”

“Can never be too careful. I don’t think now’s a good time for another lil’ one, do you? Think we should at least celebrate Oliver’s first birthday before we try for another one.” His hands are on his hips as he lines you up over his cock, helping you slowly sink down. You missed the burn of him which was even more intense than it usually was considering it’s been a while since he’s taken you.

“I think you’re right,” you reply. You rest your head on his shoulder while you adjust to the size of him, needing to take a moment to yourself before attempting to move. After a short adjustment period you begin rolling your hips, grinding against him in a way that was also bringing pleasure to your clit, still swollen and sensitive from your last orgasm.

Harry’s eyes are fixated on the way your breasts bounce in front of him, the way your stomach slightly jiggles each time you crash back down onto him. His lips are caught in between his teeth; you’re hoping he doesn’t break any skin so you don’t have to hear him whine about how badly the bruise hurts him later.

“Ridin’ me like your life depends on it,” Harry mutters. “Fuckin’ love takin’ you like this, angel. So fuckin’ deep.”

You simply hum in agreement, brain far too foggy to form a coherent sentence. Harry notices your movements starting to become smaller, lazier, so he puts his hands on your hips and decides to take over. He’s thrusting up into you like you’ll up and run away from him if he doesn’t give it his all. He cups your face with one hand and gently guides you towards him, pressing open-mouthed kisses against your lips.

“Fuck, H,” your eyes are squeezed shut and your wrap your arms around his neck, feeling your second orgasm quickly approaching. “Rub my clit please, almost there.”

Harry’s fingers immediately come down to rub at your slick nub, not faltering his relentless pace in the slightest. “Clench around me again, lovie,” his voice is higher than usual, whiny, and you know your husband is just as close as you are. “Love when you do tha’, jus’ need you to do it one more time.”

You do as he wishes once more, knowing once he cums you’ll be directly behind him. Harry lets out a string of expletives as he releases inside of you, pulling you tightly against his chest as he rides out his orgasm. You continue riding him, not slowly down as you chase your own release next.

“Harry,” you’re in a trance-like state, chanting his name over and over as you bring yourself over the edge. “Harry, fuck!”

“That’s my good girl,” he says quietly, rubbing your back as you rest your head on his shoulder while you catch your breath. You feel him beginning to soften inside of you so you lift yourself off and lay back on the couch, legs still shaking. It’s quiet for a couple of minutes as the two of you reveal in the afterglow of your orgasms, Harry gently running his fingers along your leg.

“Round two in the shower?”

December 25th, 6:42 AM

“Mumma! Santa came and he left lots of toys–– Daddy?”

Harry lets out a dramatic “oof!” as Ally jumps onto him, pulling the covers back. Her eyes are wide and she giggles are Harry pulls her into one of his infamous bear hugs, placing kisses all over his face.

“Mornin’, love bug! What’re you doin’ up so early?”

“It’s Christmas, Daddy! Santa came!” she sits back on her feet, a confused look on her face. “Did Santa bring you on his sleigh last night after me ‘n Olly went to bed?”

“Y’know what? He told me to keep it a secret, but he did,” Allison gasps in response to his news as she processes it, placing a little hand over her mouth. Harry sits up and gets out of bed, scooping her up in the process. “How ‘bout we go make Mum a cuppa before we see what Santa got for you and Olly? Tha’ sound good? Let’s let them sleep for a while longer, hmm?”

As you hear them exit the room you take a second to reflect on how lucky you are to spend another Christmas with you beautiful family before drifting back off into a deep, albeit short, sleep.

[hyenahunt]

Secret Service: EPILOGUE - 3

Writer: Akira

Season: Winter

Characters: Ibara, Hiyori, Jun, Madara, Kohaku

Proofreading: Remy (JP) & Skyress (ENG)

Translation: haranami & hyenahunt

Hiyori: Let's hear some applause, now! One of ES's Big Three has deigned to answer your call for help and assist you in your time of need — and that would be us, the one and only Eden!

Ibara: Greetings, gentlemen of Double Face! We’re terribly sorry to keep you waiting! Salute~!

Hiyori: Let's hear some applause, now! One of ES's Big Three has deigned to answer your call for help and assist you in your time of need — and that would be us, the one and only Eden!

Jun: It was pretty sudden, so pardon us for not saying a proper hello! We're gonna go all out today — lookin' forward to working with you!

Madara: ……

…The hell?

Hiyori: That's how you intend to greet us? Don't you know who we are?

There's no way you can be an idol at ES and not know that! Say, are you really an idol? Not just a fraud taking on that label?

Madara: You don’t need any qualifications to be an idol, yanno? All you need to do is call yourself one.

Hiyori: So true! Now if only you'd been satisfied with simply doing that, hmm?

Instead, you wanted to both prove to yourself that you truly are an idol and have others validate your wearing of that title, but you certainly went at it in a roundabout way!

Madara: You sure don’t mince words, but you’re not wrong… Say, why’d you really come here, Eden? I don’t recall ever having asked you to lend us a hand.

Kohaku: Same here. Oho… Is that what this is about?

Eden. Y’all came here for the same reason I did, ain’t that right?

Madara: For the same reason you did?

Kohaku: Yep. I reckon they’ve got a bone t’pick with ya, Madara-han, after ya toyed around with ‘em. They must’ve been too ticked off t’let things end this way…

So they probably came here t’give ya one last, good sucker punch to the face.

Madara: Hey, now! You’re idols — are you reaaally gonna be violent? On stage?

Don’t you remember the man who was called the disgrace of the idol industry? Do you plan on making the same mistakes he did?

Hiyori: Really now, you two are hardly in any position to be lecturing us about that.

I've heard the gist of things from Ibara. So you hire yourselves out doing whatever dirty work is necessary to eradicate evil, hmm...?

This world exists for my sake, and you mean to tell me that something so repulsive lurks within it? Pardon my language, but it could make one positively hurl.

Kohaku: Hah! That’s right, you’ve lived your whole life in the brightest, most sparkly parts of the world. Poor lil’ rich boy… It must’ve been oh so hard for ya t’look at people like us.

Is that what this is about? Ya saw some filthy, disgustin’ insects buzzin’ around, so ya decided t’come all the way here so ya could crush ‘em yourself.

Madara: They’re trying to pick a fight with me, but for some reason, you’re the one getting all riled up, Kohaku-san… I guess this stuff is a sore spot for you?

Kohaku: Sure is. When it comes down to it, I’m the same as you — everythin’ I do is for me, myself, and I.

Don’t get the wrong idea, alright? This ain’t for your sake. I’m not doin’ all this ‘cause I wanna save ya or anythin’.

Madara: I know. In fact, I think that’s for the better. We just happened to run into each other in a back alley, and then we formed a temporary alliance to take down our common enemies.

That’s what our relationship has been like from the very start.

Kohaku: …I figured we at least forged a bond of some sort after goin’ through battles like that over and over again.

But whatever. You’re a damn idiot who clearly doesn’t understand a thing, so lemme boil it down for ya. This is the perfect chance t’knock ya down, Madara-han.

Ya cosied on up to the management, so you’re pretty much guaranteed t’win the SS preliminaries.

Ya must’ve had a bunch of fun, happy days, smooth sailing all ‘round.

It was a big change, wasn’t it? You’ve lived your life in the shadows; this was probably your first real taste of success.

You’re at the height of happiness right now, and that’s why they wanna kick ya down. They hate your guts, so they’re gonna enact their revenge right now.

Madara: ……

Kohaku: I came here on the off chance that I’d have to do the same, actually.

It sure wasn’t easy, though. And it must’ve been hard for Eden, too — they had t’act like you asked them to help out.

Do ya know why I did all this? It was t’confront you. I needed to see with my own two eyes whether you were rotten beyond salvation or not. And if you were…

I’d use every trick up my sleeve t’eliminate ya.

I’d personally make sure that you’d never walk under the sun again.

Madara: This isn’t the first time I’ve thought this, but you sure say scary things for someone with such a cute face.

Kohaku: I hear that discrepancy is one of my selling points. I don’t give a hoot, though.

Anyways, after I eliminated you, I planned on stealin’ away everythin’ you’ve worked for.

I’m part of Double Face, so no one would’ve batted an eyelash if I inherited the “Late Mikejima Madara’s” legacy.

Madara: That’s some teeerrifying bloodlust you’ve got there. I don’t think I’ve done anything that’d warrant you hating me this much, though?

Kohaku: If that’s really how ya feel, I’m seriously gonna kill ya.

You’re no more than a coward who can only protect himself with his giant body and violent behavior — stop tryin’ t’act like some kinda lone ranger!

If you’ve got too much on your plate, just say so. If you’ve got too many burdens to bear, just share ‘em with me. If there are things ya can’t accomplish on your own, let me join ya.

You can go ahead and pretend that ya can’t see everybody else, but at the very least, I won’t let ya ignore me.

Madara: ……

Kohaku: …Well, lookin’ back on the conversation we just had, it seems like ya haven’t rotted to the core just yet.

If anythin’, ya feel more like a newly-born babe, still in the midst of a struggle.

I’ll have mercy on ya this time. If I raised a hand against a baby, I’d end up bein’ the unpardonable one.

Ibara: Fufufu, he’s quite the large baby! You must have a lot on your plate, Oukawa-shi, having to accomplish your idol work with such a huge child in your arms!

Would you like me to remove the two-meter thorn in your side?

Kohaku: ……

✦✦✦✦✦

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[chimtaera]

imagine barista taehyung.

ok first things first.

taehyung runs the most aesthetic, atmospheric, coffee shop of all time.

doesn’t matter if he doesn’t own the place, he’s gonna decorate.

paintings of the walls by local artist and van gogh alike.

boardgames and puzzles on the shelves for rainy days.

will play uno with you on slow days.

and you know the playlist is gonna be on point.

also the most experimental with his drinks. 

like he’s gotten in trouble for experimenting with people’s orders, so now he gives away his frankendrinks for free.

and outgoing as he is he’s on first name basis with everyone who’s visited more than twice. 

he won’t remember your order, but he’ll remember your name, and/or give you a nickname, and/or draw you a correlating doodle on your to-go cup.

you’re probably a tired student in need of a quiet place to read and/or write your assignments. 

you’re gonna need caffeine too, so you might as well camp out in a coffee shop.

taehyung is chatty and wants to know what you’re studying for, what assignment you’re working on, and will you try his iced pumpkin-spice dirty chai latte with cinnamon?

and this being a perfect opportunity to procrastinate, so you strike up a friendship with the barista.

thus you end up being designated test-subject for his new and exciting concoctions. 

dw they’re only undrinkable 2% of the time. you’ll be fine.

taehyung thinks ur cute, but u r kinda clueless.

cue montage of taehyung trying to hint that he’s into you and you completely missing out because you’re either buried in your work or just think he’s being nice:

hearts in all your drinks, in the foam, in the sprinkles, in the whipped cream, even in the chocolate sauce. but that doesn’t have to mean anything right?? that’s just what baristas do, he’s just practicing his craft, right??

brings you pastries and cookies for free, making excuses that there’s something wrong with it so he was gonna throw it out anyway. 

“this cookie has too many chocolate chips, you can have it”

“is this pastry too sweet? you decide.”

“we can’t sell this, it’s on fire. here you go.”

“a time traveller licked this one.”

but he’s just trying to cheer you up because he sees how hard you’re studying, right???

dedicates chat baker songs to you, but he’s just being silly haha right ???

gazes longingly at you while he’s steaming the milk until it’s ruined, lmao he’s so easily distracted. totally not in love with you hahaha ha ha h a right???

except he totally is.

and you totally are in love with him too, but you don’t wanna seem like you’re assuming things or make him uncomfortable at his place of work because he’s a service worker yanno, he’s paid to be nice.

but one evening you’ve got an assignment due that night, and you were up all of last night writing, and you’re so exhausted no amount of coffee can keep awake and oopsy daisy you’ve fallen asleep at your table in the coffee shop.

and you won’t know this, but taehyung switches playlists to something quieter and tries to steam milk as quietly as possible which isn’t very that shit is noisy, but it’s the thought that counts yanno.

anyway it’s late, and eventually he has to close the shop and so he wakes you, with coffee of course.

and you panic because you only have an hour until you have to turn in your paper and it’ll take you half that time to get home.

taehyung is quick to comfort you though, it takes him about an hour to close up shop, and you’re more than welcome to stay until then.

this is lowkey a lie, it takes taehyung only half an hour to close up, but he wants to help you out and also just wants to be around you.

and you’re still sleepy and so grateful you blurt some nonsense along the lines of “omg thank you let me buy you coffee some time!!”

and he laughs and you blush because obviously he has more than enough coffee.

but, to your surprise he accepts. “as long as it’s not here”, he says. and he may be blushing a little too.

so he takes his time, cleans extra thoroughly, goes through some of the routines that are only necessary once a week, humming along to some soft jazz.

and the sleep has done you good, so you manage to tie up all your loose ends and complete your paper, with enough time spare to read through it once and correct some spelling. truly a miracle.

and imagine, as you leave together and he locks up your jacket gets caught in the door and he has to help you get it loose and oops he’s really close now

so close you can count his eyelashes and you can’t breathe he’s so pretty!!?!?!? and he smells like freshly ground coffee beans and cookies still warm from the oven, honestly he’s mouthwatering.

and he’s like “hey, actually, neither of us has eaten, you wanna get dinner right now instead of coffee later?” and hells yes you do, suddenly reminded that you are absolutely starving.

so you agree but he’s still so close, like all up in your personal space and you don’t mind exactly, but it makes your heart beat out of control and you’re pretty sure you’re blushing so hard you’re radiating heat.

and then he asks “so, do i have to wait until after the date to kiss you or..?”

and you choke on nothing because, “wait, we’re going on a date?”

“yes, i just decided.” and he steps impossibly closer. “i wanna date you, do you wanna date me?”

“i mean, yes, yeah, of course, i-”

“okay, then i’m just gonna kiss you now.”

and he does, and it’s just a sweet and gentle press of lips against yours, but he’s so close and warm and smells so nice it’s pretty much heavenly.

and after dinner he walk you home and kisses you some more before ushering you inside to get some much needed rest.

needless to say, studying at the coffee shop is a little more distracting after that.

taehyung will straight up push your books out of your lap and sit on you to pepper you with kisses, at least once a day.

and you finally notice the hearts in all your drinks, that are meant especially for you.

but also a lot more enjoyable!!

anyway, nsfw under the cut.

taehyung more like tae-HUNG (sorry.)

i feel like taehyung would be a lot of fun in bed. 

he’s confident, he’s fun, he’s adventurous, inventive, and a little weird, and i think those things all play out pretty well in the bedroom.

or, yanno, shower, bathroom floor, hallway mirror, storage closet, in a boat, with a goat, etc.

best of all he’s very attentive, he’ll pay so close attention to you, very intense at times.

every time you have a reaction he likes he will grin and chuckle to himself and do whatever he did again and again and again until you’re begging him to cum.

also gets really horny at like the weirdest and most inconvenient times and will get really whiny and clingy and subtly rub up against you until you can sneak away somewhere and get each other off. 

imagine his as soon as he has a break from work giving you a look like “now.” and ur like “now??” and he’s like “nOW.”

don’t tell his boss but he will go down on you in the storage closet if you let him. 

relieve some stress, you know, you’re studying so hard you deserve it!!

he’s very convincing.

like i said, pretty adventurous. so he’ll want to try out new positions and stuff all the time. 

not because regular sex is boring, but because it’s fun to explore!

he’s more than happy to just sit back and let you ride him on the sofa.

he’s pretty verbal too, and you can expect a lot of praise.

bottom line taehyung is hot as hell, and sex with him would be too.

lucky you!

[stardustedknuckles]

yashter and/or bashter for the ship meme if u want? :U

I’ll do bashter since I have spared only a little thought to Yashter (overall positive feelings for in in theory tho, just...Beau is necessary yanno).

It’s a ship I can definitely get behind.

1. What do you like about it? I like what Jester is to the both of them just by being who she is. Beau spent her life screaming to be noticed, trying to be worth someone’s attention, and Jester came along and just....gave it. Without reservation, without asking for anything from Beau in return, it was just there. And for Yasha, she had another colorful tiefling come into her life and take her by the hand and say “no, it’s going to be okay. It’s okay that you’re not okay and I love you anyway and I will fight for you to see you’re worth it.” I never liked jester more than when she was viciously defending Yasha’s character during the king’s cage arc.

2. What made you ship it? Sorry these are out of order I don’t feel like copy/pasting. Honestly what made me ship it was half “they have a lot to offer each other” and half spite. The beauj*s fandom terrifies me on the whole even though I know the worst stuff that makes it to my dash tends to be the vocal minority. They just seem to HATE Yasha and the show and the crew and that doesn’t sit well with me. Why are you watching if it’s that bad? But on a more wholesome note, came for the spite, stayed for the ways in which the three of them can grow because of each other. I’m even open to Jester being ethically non-monogamous and getting to be with whoever she wants because everyone just wants happiness for her (as they should). 

3. Do you have any unpopular opinions about your ship? I’m glad it’s not canon. I don’t really know how to elaborate. It’s not that I don’t want the representation or whatever, I mean strictly interpersonally with the characters, I’m glad. It’s easy in fic to focus on the good parts and the ways people grow each other. You pick and choose from canon the pieces that make a good story. The three of them in canon to me do not work. Beau does not understand Jester (see: her opinions on Artagan) and Jester doesn’t understand why Beau doesn’t just...choose to feel better about stuff. Her optimism blinds her to growth that can come from real struggle (see: telling Beau her dad was serious in the things he said and reinforcing what Beau’s already been struggling with re how much of their broken relationship she’s meant to carry). Jester is so good at seeing only the good in people that she hasn’t shown any real sense of understanding that darkness also has its place and serves a purpose even if it should never have happened. I don’t mean to say Jester is dumb or even childlike. But her priorities are often oppositional to the growth that is most rewarding to Beau and Yasha’s journey (together and separate).

So yeah. I ship it for the potential inside of it. But I think in practice it would either rub very wrong or require some out-of-character behavior to work.

[theladysexpistol]

( im also thirsty for mista) can you please do any nsfw hcs for him 😇

Only if you promise to take responsibility for the absolute mess that is about to happen 😂😂

N/sfw below

Letting me go off about my spicy headcanons for Mista. Smh you guys have no idea what you’ve unleashed. I’m a certified Mistafucker y’all 🥵

~~~

Unrelated to the gif but Mista in The Rolling Stones miniarc is peak sex appeal Mista for me. Interrogation scene in the elevator has got me fantasizing about Mista pinning me to the wall slamming his hand next to my head ever since 🥵

A lot of this is just going to be building on the stuff I posted in the Bucci gang sex headcanons

- So as I said before I think Mista had a healthy amount of casual sex during the time of his “simple” lifestyle. If you couldn’t tell from my pfp I headcanon him as bisexual so I think it was men and women too, though he leans more toward attraction to women

- Jumping off that, he’s got kind of a high sex drive, and jacks off regularly. If he gets a s/o he isn’t going to pressure them, but if he knows they’re into it he’s VERY happy for casual, frequent sex

- His type, for both men and women, are generally stocky and curvy. Directly quoting myself here I think Mista is a big fan of a woman’s curves. Likes to grab and squish hips, butts, thighs, all that stuff

- Mista is hot and he knows it. He’s not cocky, but he gets hit on a lot. When a sexual partner, s/o or not, runs their hands over his muscles, it is like stroking his ego though (i could talk about mista’s muscles forever. im going to jail for horny crimes i know)

- That being said he is a little self conscious about how hairy he is, but yanno some people (me included) are really into that. You know what else Mista has that i love since I’m just exposing myself? I find shoulders really sexy. Mista’s got the wide shoulders I like. As for how he smells... Trish said its kinda comforting right? I swear i fell in love before I knew he was smelly.

- Every scenario ive ever read with his s/o seducing him into the shower with shower sex is just pure gold keep writing them please

- He is really good with his tongue when he goes down on his partner. That mostly comes from his sexual experience. Doesn’t mind if they come on his face, in fact he finds it kind of hot

- Take off his hat and tug on his dark curls, Mista loves it. He strikes me as someone who can be the dominate one in bed and the more submissive one. He’s pretty go with the flow according to what his partner’s doing

- Mista prefers slow, passionate, almost lazy sex. Lots of feeling each other up, lots of low moans and breathy kisses. That being said if they want more, he can certainly change it up. Especially if his partner has really been teasing him before they got to bed, he’s gonna be more rough

- Still going with the flow, he’ll do whatever position his partner wants. I imagine he does probably like to be on top a little more, and when he’s with a guy he prefers to give than receive, but has absolutely received before

- I know i’ve mentioned that I headcanon Mista being very reliant on touch, especially when he talks to his friends and such. That continues to the bedroom; Mista is sooo handsy during sex. His hands do not stay still

- Cuddles are necessary after sex for his s/o because again, he needs that touch. It’s almost as intimate for him as sex is. Might be even a little more. Why would you not want to have Mista wrap his arms around you. I’m literally begging the universe please give me a Mista. He is so gentle cuddling in bed, still running his fingers over their skin and planting soft kisses down their neck and back

- Mista probably prefers that vanilla lazy sex but he isn’t opposed to trying other things. I think a lot of what he would be down for involves roleplaying in bed, and no not just because those are my favorite fics that I’ve read. But Mista would also break character so fast to kiss his s/o, he can’t help it.

- I go back and forward on how I think he feels about gunplay. Like I see reasons for him to both enthusiastically do it and reasons for him to want to keep that out of the bedroom. Let me know what you guys think

- Mista would never actually hurt his s/o in bed though. He’s constantly checking on them if they’re trying new stuff and probably wouldn’t go too far into the bondage and such.

- Dirty talk flusters him. He talks such a big game but the instant someone gives it back to him he’s bright red. He’s a dork and I love him

- Other things he likes is making out and just feeling each other up, being teased, his s/o sitting on his lap, going maybe a little too far in public but nothing too bad. He likes the shot of adrenaline but wouldnt actually want to cause more trouble than its worse

[mrs-geuse]

Empty (Hank Anderson x Reader)

This one is purely a twist of a page from my own diary.

I’ve had some requests for pregnant!reader and Hank and...I just can’t do that right now. My husband and I have been struggling with infertility for a year and a close friend just announced her pregnancy today, my niece was born 3 weeks ago...it’s been emotional for me.

This is purely a therapeutic attempt at getting through this for me and I’m sorry if it disappoints.

Warnings: Infertility, mentions of alcoholism, mental health struggles, and (a history of) self-harm.

Hank hears a slam from somewhere in the house and he’s instantly peeking around the corner, down the hall, warm pizza long forgotten on the kitchen counter.

“Y/N? You alright?” he calls. No response. “Y/N?” His mind is instantly working quickly, running through possibility after possibility of the worst shit.

You’d been going through it lately, your mental health at an all-time low for the last few months. It drove you to do some crazy shit and he was always there to pick up your pieces. He worried you’d resort to some of those old coping habits he knew you had. You’d told him you hadn’t done that in years, but it was still a very real possibility to him and it kept him up at night, the image of you bleeding out.

Tonight, he thought you were doing better. You’d been working on getting answers for what was bothering you…you’d spent a lot of time working through things together and – though the touchy-feely stuff was a little hard for Hank to vocalize – you were in a better place than you’d been in, well, ever.

“I’m fine,” you finally call to him, but he can hear in your voice that you’re so not fine.

“Sweetheart, come on, what is it?”

He peers into the bedroom, sees your phone face-down on the nightstand, your body on the bed, back to the headboard, knees pressed against your chest.

“It happened again,” you start, voice breaking a little bit. This could be one of two things, he knows.

Either another friend is pregnant or your period showed up.

Hank knows it’s not the latter, based on the positive ovulation test on the sink, the fact that you’ve been all over him for the last few days…

"Fuck, sweetheart…”

You shake your head, shake it off, try to take a breath.

“I feel like such an asshole, yanno? I’m happy for her, I really am, but I’m so fucking tired of it not being us. It’s been a year, Hank, a fucking year…”

He knows this, is very aware. He knows because you’ve been to the specialist, done the ten vials of bloodwork, the ultrasound up the cooch, the follow-up. Hell, he’d even done the jizz-in-a-cup thing just because he knew how much this broke you that you weren’t a mom yet.

He can remember the anxiety for those results, remember what it felt like to think it was him. He’d been convinced it was him. Hank hadn’t really thought about having another kid after Cole…and then he met you. Young, you, and that almost scared him off – the knowing that you were gonna want kids.

Hank was a drinker, for years, still is – only now he has someone to hold him through the night and that makes the drinking a little less necessary, makes life a little more bearable.

Only the results showed that his swimmers were still good. And your results showed that your stuff was all good…so, what the fuck?

He remembers holding your hand in that office as the doctor told you news, remembers your sleepless nights up filled with guilt, for whatever reason. If there was something wrong, it was nothing to feel guilty for, yet he couldn’t talk you down from that.

The doctor rambled about how some healthy couples can try for a year with no success, have nothing wrong with them…twenty percent. Twenty-fucking-percent of couples and apparently you fell right into that group.

The agony this caused you, on top of everything else you’d been through. That year consisted of monthly breakdowns in the bathroom when the bleeding started. You’d been through your share of symptom-checking, so convinced you’d been pregnant that month – you’re not normally queasy, you’re not normally late – yet Aunt Flo always reared her stupid, fucking head and each month he’d have to hold his girl and reassure you that eventually you’ll be carrying a child, things would work out…

Hell, there were months you both went sober – just in case that might help. Only it didn’t, it only made the both of you more anxious, made the constant sex almost a chore, drove you both into arguments and bullshit…

It was only recently that you sat at that kitchen table wearing his police shirt, going on about how you needed to live a little, how you needed to learn to let time do its thing. In theory? Great idea! In practice? There were so many fucking roadblocks to that happiness.

Including when your friends post on social media that – surprise! – they’re expecting!

It’s always like a gut-punch, always feels like falling and anger and guilt and ‘how-dare-I-feel-this-way-it’s-not-their-fault’ yet each month you watch them update with pictures of pregnant bellies and then eventually they post that the baby has arrived. Not to mention the monthly updates from everyone about what their little bundle is into and what things they can do and milestones reached, first steps, first words, pregnancy announcement number two…

You’d been through it all and honestly Hank just wished you’d quit the social media bullshit, cut it out, and focus on the two of you and Sumo.

And then your brother’s wife got pregnant at month one and, fuck, did that send you spiraling. Day drinking, driving drunk, crying all the time. Hank didn’t know if you’d ever get out of the funk.

Yet somehow you did. You were so damn strong, he was excited for that piece of you to grow with a baby, couldn’t wait to see what that child could become, hoped it took more of your traits and none of his.

At first, he was tentative about a child. After Cole, he couldn’t imagine the amount of anxiety he would have. But he knew how much you wanted it, how excited you were every time you went down the baby aisle at the store…

Now all you do is cry, avoid that aisle, look away.

You’d gotten through your sister-in-law’s baby shower just fine and now that the baby’s here and you’re seeing your parents step up as first-time grandparents…that hurt is real and raw.

And it’s not their fault, you know that, and you don’t hold resentment. You do avoid, though. Avoid calling, avoid social gatherings with the family. The shame you feel for not being a mom is something Hank can’t understand as a man, he just can’t. You told him once that it makes you feel like less of a woman and that shook him to the fucking core.

What kind of society puts this kind of pressure on the ‘natural progression of life’? How many people had asked about her getting pregnant, making assumptions that you weren’t trying, that you weren’t having issues.

“How did you let your sister-in-law get pregnant before you? You and Hank have been married longer, he’s old!” -the words of an actual family-friend. What a mess. How fucking painful for you to go through. He remembers that night vividly, remembers you walking him out because he was about to fight someone, remembers the way your tears looked as you paced in the parking lot, wondered how you were gonna go in and face everyone.

People suck, that’s for sure, and this is no different. People don’t understand and no one talks about infertility, you’re realizing. No one talks about the shame of it, the pain, the emotional devastation, what it fucking does to a happy marriage…

The two of you have come through stronger and you’re on a more positive, upbeat path but you still have your down days and Hank is very aware that you haven’t had one in about three weeks…

“Maybe we should start the adoption process,” you mumble with a sigh as he sits beside you, the bed dipping under his weight.

Only he knows you, he knows that you want to carry a baby, knows that there are options…like adopting an embryo…you’d researched your heart out. Researched about proper positions, different tricks, supplements, spent so much money on ovulation kits and doctor visits and pregnancy tests…

“I’m for it if that’s what you want, if you’re ready for that…” he rubs your shoulder.

You sigh, bury your face in his chest.

“I’m just so tired of waiting. I’m so tired of trying and getting hopeful and then bleeding. I’m tired of hearing from my parents that it’ll happen. I sort of wish something was wrong because then we could intervene. But now, what, we wait longer? It’s just bad luck? I’m fucking done with being told to wait and be patient, and that I’m too stressed. I’m pissed that people can have unhealthy habits or try for a month and get pregnant no issue while we have been doing our best to be better and this has been a full fucking year. Hank, we could have a three-month-old right now…right now! Holding a three-month-old. What the fuck?” you let a few tears slip by.

“I’m right here with you. I’ve seen how hard this has been on you. You’re stronger than anyone I know, baby.” He kisses your temple, rubs up and down your back. “You’re gonna be a great mom. And it’s gonna happen. No matter what I have to do, I’m gonna make you a mom.”

He doesn’t care how much money it’s going to cost; he needs to see you happy again. He misses it. You were so full of life once, you’re like a wilted flower now.

“You’ve been great with all this, Hank. Thank you.” You kiss him, lean into it more and Hank feels that spark, feels his arousal start up again.

“Fuck,” he sighs, “I know what you want,” his fingers dance across your neck. “How ‘bout we eat some pizza,” he kisses you, “and then,” another kiss, “we come back in here,” a kiss to your neck, “bring the whipped cream,” you smirk at that, “and enjoy each other.”

You hum. “That sounds so good right now, Hank…”

He nods. “Gonna run me dry by the end of this week,” he stands with you to head to the kitchen.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way, big man.” You smack him on the ass.

So maybe your life isn’t perfect, but it’s yours.

[jewpacabruhs]

so out of boredom i wanted to go in depth about something from a certain ep. in ‘the death of eric cartman’, from season 10, kyle calls cartman a “fat, racist, self-centered, intolerant, manipulating sociopath”. as we all know, it’s pretty easy to label someone a certain way, when in actuality stuff tends to go so much deeper than a couple of summarizing words. so i wanted to analyze each of those six titles that seem to follow cartman around.

1) fat. yes, hes overweight; there’s no denying that. it shouldn’t be included in this list of negatives, but kids are shallow.

2) racist. while there’s no denying he’s blatantly racist, i don’t think cartman understands the depth of racism at his age, and therefore it’s not genuine. none of the kids, except for token and nichole and maybe kyle, do. i myself was pretty racist until around thirteen or fourteen, because i’d been raised like that and i didn’t know any better. despite being jewish (granted, i didn’t experience any anti-semitism until i started to embrace my religion recently), i found harmful stereotypes about non-white people to be funny & often said them in jest, until i started educating myself and realized how harmful doing that was. unfortunately a lot of people don’t outgrow the racism they learn as children. point is, i think cartman doesn’t understand the magnitude of racism and it’s harmful effect on poc. then again, he doesn't care about any one but himself, and things that don’t directly involve him don’t concern him, so you can’t expect him to. but considering his recent pc arc, maybe he’ll mature a little. unfortunately, as of now, i think he just views making racist remarks as another thing that gets him attention. he’ll take any attention he can get, and negative attention is easiest to get. how to get negative attention? make everyone hate you. how to do that? display hatred towards everyone else. 

3) self-centered. he’s most definitely self-centered. i think cartman got a very extreme case of only child-syndrome (general selfishness, bossiness, etc. i myself was an only child until twelve, and i was a goddamn pain to be friends with, i’ll tell you that) that was magnified by abuse and neglect from his mother. he’s developed a me-against-the-world complex. not to mention he’s very intelligent, and he knows it, which led to some intense narcissism (or perhaps that’s a front to hide his insecurity, because there’s been a couple of instances where cartman’s grandiose facade cracked and we got a glimpse of the vulnerable kid underneath). that intelligence, regardless of how little he demonstrates it on a daily basis, also alienates him from the rest of south park, who are airheads. and while i can’t deny he’s undeniably clever, and that’s a positive for him, his self image of his psychical body is all false bravado; he’s convinced himself he’s strong, attractive, and manly, when in reality he’s chubby, weak, fairly repulsive (albeit charming), and a little more on the feminine side, if we’re generalizing - he’s emotional, sassy, manipulative, and on a more psychological level, he cross-dresses, plays with dolls, and is, canonically, attracted to boys. he doesn’t like himself, even if he pretends he does. now, personally, i believe all humans are self-centered - at the end of the day, do we genuinely care about each other people’s trivial problems? then again, i’m a raging nihilist. regardless, cartman’s put up a facade of who he thinks he should be, who he wants to be. his use of derogatory language towards others (not the personal attacks, like calling kyle a filthy jew or token a black piece of shit or whatever, but the general ones, like “hey, f*gs” or “whats up, dickwads”, yanno), it’s all to make himself feel better about himself. to try to put himself on a pedestal, so he’s untouchable, and he does this by demeaning others. his use of the f word in particular, and i’m not talking about fuck, is likely internalized homophobia.

4) intolerant. ties back into racism - he’s intolerant because he thinks it’s cool. he thinks bigotry is badass, and he’s obsessed with his own image, similarly to stan, only stan actually has morals and a decent sense of wrong vs right. stan will do anything to make himself look good, but only in socially acceptable ways. cartman, on the other hand, has no concept of what’s socially acceptable, and merely does things to the beat of his own drum; whatever he thinks is right, in his own eyes, he believes wholeheartedly, and he practices what he, and he alone, preaches. he thinks that, by spouting hateful bullshit, he, again, is putting himself up on a pedestal, which is exactly where he wants to be (and likely thinks he belongs). have you ever met/talked to a bigot who wasn’t a raging narcissist? i haven’t. cartman also clearly doesn’t know how to be nice, as shown in casa bonita; hate is all he knows. it’s his defense mechanism, likely because, subconsciously, he’s afraid to let people get close. he doesn’t want emotional intimacy with anyone because he doesn’t want to be genuinely vulnerable (partly because he likely considers vulnerability as “faggy” or “girly”, and his ego won’t allow that, and partly because he doesn’t want the walls he’s built up to be torn down - no bey reference intended, i swear). the only people he’s ever really opened up to have been his mom and butters, and with his mom he usually wants something and he’s exaggerating. butters, i think he trusts to some degree, because he knows butters is a dweeb and he’s naive enough to not entirely understand the difference between cartman’s true(?) nature and his facade, considering his erratic moods. still, even then, butters has shared cartman’s secrets time and time again, which probably proved to cartman that he really cant trust anyone. anyway, like i said, i don’t think the intolerance is genuine, i think he thinks it’s cool and he likes how controversial his remarks are, because, like i said, to cartman, any attention is good attention.

5) manipulative. he’s definitely manipulative, that’s undeniable. but i don’t think manipulation’s inherently bad, honestly; if you’re smooth enough to be able to talk yourself into getting your way all the time, good for you. if your morals are so shaky that you’re able to walk on other people to achieve personal success, you’re probably gonna move up quicker in the world, and i can respect that. cartman’s realized this at a young age, and he utilizes his charm. albeit, he often uses his power for evil, but still.

6) sociopath. this is the one i wanna talk about thoroughly. people don’t seem to understand the psychological meaning of 'psychopath’ or 'sociopath’, or any other psychological diagnosis. i’m not an expert, but i’ve researched psychology extensively, so i’d like to think i’m somewhat of a reputable source when it comes to this sort of stuff. and while i hate to try and stick a label on a fictional fourth grader, it’s pretty fascinating to try. however, you should still take everything i say with a grain of salt. anyway, so, admittedly, on the surface you would think cartman was a sociopath. he lacks empathy and manipulates as necessary without guilt, and while i think he definitely displays antisocial and narcissistic traits, i don’t think hes a sociopath. if anything, he displays some symptoms of high-functioning aspergers (ironic, considering that one episode). as someone on the autistic spectrum, i hardly want him as an example of an autistic person. but he sort of reminds me of someone i studied extensively while researching criminal psychology - one jeffrey dahmer (the real one, not the south park parody version of him). dahmer was officially diagnosed with bpd and schizotypal pd, among others, but a few of the many psychologists he spoke to following his arrest diagnosed him with aspergers. dahmer’s personality would go from awkward, reserved, and gentlemanly, to cocky, aggressive, and cruel. this could’ve been the bpd & aspergers/szpd (which is, more or less, aspergers & schizophrenia smushed together) coinciding. a little personal input: i myself have been diagnosed with a lot of different shit by several different therapists, but my lack of empathy and aloof attitude have been persistent symptoms in each of the diagnoses. if i compare myself to a friend of mine who has bpd, we’re pretty damn different. but if mashed together, we’d roughly make a dahmer-like personality, i think - and possibly a cartman-like personality. see, cartman’s behavior is very sporadic and unexpected. his default tone of speech (which says a lot about a person) seems to be a sarcastic but detached sort of drawl, which reflects his laid-back and idgaf-esque manner. he’s easily agitated, in which case his voice raises, often in a matter of seconds, before he’s returned to his relatively calm usual demeanor. the anger usually doesn’t last, unless it’s a heated argument. when angered, he can be driven to severely injuring people, without a second thought, because he lacks empathy. he blindly follows trends if they make him look cool, although i don’t think he really has a concept of what’s cool, nor does he care, i think he just tries to blend in to some degree to avoid ridicule, and because he wants people to like him. he’s assertive and straight-forward, doesn’t care if he hurts feelings, and doesn’t concern himself with people’s problems or opinions, although i think he cares about what people think about him a lot more than he cares to admit. that’s another thing that’s interesting; how he’s hated by everyone, despite his need for validation, and his brain twists things so he thinks people like him instead of just tolerate him. it’s crazy. anyway, i dunno, not making diagnoses, just bringing up symptoms and possibilities. and that’s all. gnite.

[alyjojo]

Career & Money 💵 in January 2022 - Taurus

Current: Ace of Cups

Challenges: The Sun

Potential: 7 Wands

Overall energy: Judgement

There’s an opportunity you’re emotionally attached to, something you love to do, and it definitely feels like a side gig. Could be selling paintings, being a SoundCloud rapper, decorating houses, or whittling wood...I always think of Brave when I say that, guess how many times I say that. A LOT 😁 Whatever it is, it doesn’t feel like the main, and if there is a main it’s probably just fine, or at least this doesn’t say you’re broke and miserable, it’s just this new thing spirit wants to talk about. It seems like something you may have tried before and maybe it didn’t work out for some reason, or something came up. You’re taking something you’re good at and doing something creative and new with it. The only challenge here is confidence, that’s loud and clear with The Sun.

The potential is possibly having to defend your position in some way. To that I say: you cannot really expect a fisherman to appreciate building military planes as much as a pastor doesn’t tend to landscape or...tech support to appreciate a latex makeup artist etc. Just tell them to stay tf in their lane & move on 😌

Of course any number of professions can cross over into anything, if they want, the point is that people often choose to lock themselves in their own little mentality box yanno, this is my fishing box, we talk about fish 🐠

If people are jealously trying to get what’s yours, another possibility, let them try, they’re not you. Someone might need reminding of that at your job. Or maybe you do. Nothing in this read is alarming, just stand up for yourself if/when you need to, hand out Judgement where it’s necessary. If an old problem pops back up (Mercury and Venus are retrograde in January, it’s possible), you’ll shut it down with no issues. You got this, just believe it 💯

[dreamcrboy]

So He Goes | Drabble - 1969

Under the cut is a drabble based off the January 10th event of George quietly telling the band that he was leaving. This is John’s reaction, as well as Paul’s, to the news, and an insight to what the band was experiencing leading up to, and during that moment. 

“I’m leaving the band now,” George said calmly, calloused digits wrapped around the neck of his guitar. His dark orbs centered on none of his band-mates, or ex-band-mates now, but in his heart of hearts, he knew the message was for the long-auburn haired man sitting diagonally across from him.

 Still vexed from the afternoon row himself and John had, George felt it necessary to escape the tension filmed studios and go home, forever. There was nothing here, nothing that appealed to him anymore, and he wanted to break away from the chains that he felt he was being trapped in. John, quick to catch the word, looked up from his guitar and licked his lips. “When?” he furrowed his eyebrows, genuinely curious. Yoko fiddled beside him, listening intently to the drama arising. “Now,” George again spoke. 

Whatever George may have hoped to get out of John with the announcement, he didn’t. With an unfazed rise of his eyebrows, John dismissed his mate and friend of many years, and then, as if nothing significant had happened, the elder of the two began twiddling with the strings of his guitar once more. The tension filled cold which swept through the studios was now accompanied by eerie silence, except for the rattle of George’s guitar in it’s case, and the cords John fiddled with. 

Despite the lack of emotion displayed, John was brewing as he bent over his Epiphone Casino. His nostrils flared, the ache in his head increasing tenfold as the clatter George made echoed. All he was waiting for was the sound of the door shutting, the sign that the youngest of the Beatles had made his exit from the band, once and for all. John decided, as rashly as George had decided to leave, that he was going to reclaim his position in this godforsaken band, taking the upper-hand away from Paul and suggesting his own solutions. 

When the door slammed shut, John peered up through his National Health glasses, and looked around the room. Each character was looking off, avoiding the inevitable awkwardness that should follow something like that. If Lennon wasn’t such a chance taker, such a quick to the point, move of with it kind of man, he would’ve looked back down and avoided it too. He had for a long time, avoided the elephant in the room, because he was too damned tired with everything else: with the press, with the details of divorce, with Yoko and his relationship--too much surmounted by the world on John. What happened in the cold of January, between the three of his mates, couldn’t have seemed less fickle compared to something as, say, the arrest of himself and Yoko. But now, he told himself, it was time to take back what was once his. If the band was going to deconstruct--the band he had made by himself, letting each of them, McCartney included, to join in--then he was going to be the one to repair it.

Swallowing, looking over to Yoko first before the unsympathetic words left his mouth, John shook his head. She knew, she felt the waves of his anger radiate off him, but she remained quiet. “Let’s get Eric, then,” he shrugged. His eyes darted to Paul, who sat, looking rather sickly, John had noted. “There’s no reason to wait around and ‘ope he’ll come around, is there? He fuggin’ said it himself, he’s quit, so let’s do what we’ve got to, and finish this album off with another guitarist. He’s just as bloody good, you know--Yoko and I like him, and George does too. If he wants to be a prat, let him fuggin’ be.” 

“I dunno.” McCartney finally interjected in matters, sitting forward. Tilting his head to the side, Paul flipped his fringe out of his face. Sullen, he didn’t know what to make of what had just happened, but he knew that--the madness John was suggesting--wasn’t the answer. The Beatles would not be the Beatles without George Harrison. The media would be enraged to learn that the three of them had tossed aside their ‘quiet’ Beatle in change for Clapton. “He’ll be back,” Paul confidently assured John, sighing through his nose. He didn’t know if there was truth to that, but he did hope so. An ill feeling had already began to form in his stomach, and it’d only been a mere two minutes since George had left. “He’s jus’ pevved, John. We’ve all gotten that way before, yanno. There’s been times where we’ve all packed it in because it wasn’t clicking, yanno, when we weren’t turning each other on the way we do.” 

Paul paused, peering at John. What the fuck is happening? Was the first thought that pounded around in his mind, chapped lips parting as if he was going to vocalize his worries. But he’d never--no not Paul. No matter how worried or overstretched the brown haired musician would get, he’d always try to maintain a reasonably professional manner. If he didn’t, he wasn’t sure who was going to.

John laughed mirthlessly, Paul caught it. He was irritated, just as much as the rest of them were. Paul got the shit end of the stick most of the time; all his troubles were met with things like John’s silence, George’s aggravation, and, at the end of the day, a big heap of complete shite. No one had worked over more details about what was going on with the Beatles at the moment than Paul had--and John had the audacity to treat him like that. 

Rising from his seat, Paul traveled to the black piano. Facing his back towards the band and the others, Paul tinkered with the keys, working out one of his newest compositions. John, feeling bitter and biting, glared into the back of Paul, before he went back to his own instrument. 

Much worse than the silence that had embodied everyone, was the sound of two once finely tuned band mates--who didn’t even have to hear each other to know what was happening-- playing different songs, and different notes. John and Paul wandered into their two vastly different worlds, the only thing connecting them being the past. Paul was increasingly worried that was slowly breaking too, as he listened to the sad tune they played. 

Fuggin’ hell, he thought. Fuggin’ hell. 

[ukenceto]

I honestly wanna know more about ur OCs.

Hello my friend! The time has come then -

:D (pls don’t be scared)

I assume the moodboards piqued your interest, so I will write about those characters:

I’ve had them from around 2009 though back then I didn’t really think of drawing them much or making any other content for them… However the possible stories and AU’s of AU’s kept piling up until 2015 when I was stuck without internet for a while and decided, hey, now’s a good time to make a drawing and write a little drabble with them, what could go wrong?

Now, 2 years later, I have this huge story that like 3 of my friends have read and increasing amount of art, and even fanart courtesy to some of these friends :D Joe and Ren are the main characters in the story, and also the ones I’ve got more posts about so I’ll begin with them. However, I’ll try to write about them separated from the plot for accuracy.

Joe is an ex-navy seal who’s been working in a private security organization for over 7 years. Little of his appearance has changed since his military days, as he strives to keep himself in top shape, though he sure has a lot more scars than before. He’s got an outgoing personality, generally is chill with everyone until given reason to not be so. He lives alone in a renovated warehouse in Boston, a way to remind himself where he’s come from (his family has been low-working class and he’d joined the army in order to provide better life for them and his sister).He loves good guns and good cigars, and usually after a successful mission he can be found indulging in those things, or driving off somewhere into the sunset. Free spirit by nature, he can be home anywhere in the world and often dreams of having a boat and enough time to sail all along the us coastline.Ren joins the same private security organization much later, and while his military career had been longer than Joe’s, it’s come to an end after a botched mission which leaves Ren and most of his teammates dead or injured. After a long recovery however, he wants to continue working in that sphere, as it’s been his whole life so far. There are still lingering traces of trauma left in his mind, and he has some bad days, however his self-control and willingness to overcome those issues grants him a favorable letter by his doctor. That combined with successfully passing several entry courses into the organization gives him the second chance in life he wanted so badly. His work profile is comparable with Joe and they’re often assigned on missions together, especially after showing good results as a team. For a long time Ren’s kept away from other people, but that differs with the positive change in his life, and so he and Joe become friends. He’s still a private person however, but knowing which buttons to push can get him to open up and be comfortable after a while. He has a huge sweet tooth, doesn’t get up before lunchtime unless he strictly has to, and owns more nice clothes than he’d like to admit. Favorite place for him to visit is the lake house his father owns, a secluded place to rest among centuries old woods. 

Den and Jonathan’s stories are a bit more secondary in the ‘plot’ and I should really draw them more often as they appear briefly in one of my published stories too but… always so many things to draw and be done I can’t even keep track xd

Den is actually Ren’s brother (surprise lol). The two of them were raised by their loving father after their mother had passed away while they’ve still been kids. While Ren looks a lot like his father, Den’s got more of their mother’s finer features, like blonde hair, fair skin and a dreamer’s mind. However, he’d always wanted to follow in their father’s footsteps and joined the military several years after Ren. His mind had been the trait to separate him from his peers, and give him a more analytical position as a part of the cyber intelligence division. Still, not long after that Den had realized he didn’t have the same level of dedication for the job like the rest of his family, and hadn’t planned on staying there longer than necessary. Falling head over heels for one of his commanding officers hadn’t been part of the plan either, and is the point which changes his life quite turbulently. Secret relationships never stay secret for too long, and the repercussions which follow threaten not only his position. Yet another variable in the plan, and Den finds himself bound to stay where he is as the man he loves takes the blame instead of him. Death is another unpredictable link of the chain, and after that not much matters more for Den. He leaves the job, the world which had done nothing but take from him, but cannot bring himself to truly leave his brother and father. Medication keeps him stable sometimes, other times it’s different things. Fighting, be that in a lousy brawl or against a more sophisticated firewall is the one thing which can still get his blood rushing…

Jonathan’s probably what one could call a patriot by soul. He’s dedicated his mind and body to the country and found meaning in fighting for it and protecting in. In a way, he sees it as returning a debt - he’s grown in a small orphanage in a port town somewhere in the pacific northwest, a place indistinguishable from many others. The rough sand and soil under his feet had taken roots into his heart as he’d grown and no matter where he went after, he’d always kept the homeland within himself. Trained for extreme combat situations, along with the knowledge of a field medic, he’d lived in the heat of the battle for over ten years. Nobody else had been able to reach his heart the same way his country had, which has build him the reputation of a cold and calculating man. Sacrificing the job which had practically been his life for whatever reason was never a move anyone would have predicted for him, yet, fate is often a fickle thing…

***I could probably go on and on with these so I’ll just put a pause here :D Feel free to ask anything more specific or just yanno, everybody loves talkin’ bout their oc’s :D Ah, and the main story for these fellas is in fact a military thriller/adventure, thus the common theme. (Though as I said there are AU’s and different timelines and settings as always lol)

[weirdlingwonders]

Rant

Today I calle a store.. and was literally on hold for an HOUR because no one spoke enough English to know what I was asking for, or how to get done what I needed w/o transfering me back and forth, putting me on hold for LITERALLY half an hour, and twice, eventually disconnecting me w/no human interaction whatsoever. XP And all I needed.. was to find out IF they had a certain setting spray. SETTING SPRAY. Not that complicated.

And last week I had an experience w/Greyhound on the phone that left me feeling equally as frustrated. Apparently they’ve outsourced to the Philippines, and no one in their call center speaks enough English to understand “service fee.”  

Alllll this.. in UNACCEPTABLE.  If Customer Service doesn’t speak enough English to get the job done, THERE IS NO ACTUAL CUSTOMER SERVICE TAKING PLACE.

I don't mind dealing with someone with an accent (after all, we all come from somewhere else- unless we're Native American).  And I don’t mind if a person doesn’t ahve perfect English. -I- don’t speak perfect English, and I was born here.  But I DO mind when someone doesn't have enough of a grasp on the English language that they can't understand what I'm saying. as someone with absolutely -no- accent at all, and they’re supposedly working w/folks in the US.  No, we may not have an official language,” but that doesn’t mean that when a person walks into a local KFC, they expect the person behind the counter to speak Farsi, Swahili, or Inuit.  The US, like it or not, is a largely English-based entity.  Because we were colonized by English speakers.  It’s our unofficial, official laugnage.  It’s what people greet each other on the street with.  It’s how we answer the phone.  Not with “Bonjour!” or “Moshi Moshi!” But “hello!”  So whether in person or on the phone, if you don't speak enough English to do even the BASICS of your job, there is a biiiiig problem. 

If I'm in a taxi and the driver doesn't understand "turn right up here," or I'm at a sandwich shop and the guy doesn't understand "I'd like 2 slices of provolone, please," that's an issue.  And before you get all uppity about this being petty or trivial, please note that this issue can be a matter of personal safety for many.  I ride paratransit and taxis frequently, and my basic, personal safety can be put in jeopardy if the driver of my vehicle doesn't speak adequate English. If they go to grab my elbow as I get out of the vehicle and I say "I've got it," they need to understand me so they don't grab me and push/pull me, causing me to fall & potentially injure myself. Or if we’re heading to the vehicle, they jaunt away leaving me alone to navigate dangerous terrain in the dark and ask “can I please hold your arm?” or let out a plaintive “hello? Can you come help me, please..?” and they don't understand, again, I could get hurt.  Literally, PHYSICALLY HURT.  Or (and this is much scarier for folks like me), if I'm in that taxi and the driver doesn't understand "turn left at the light," then God knows -where- they might be taking me, inclined to leave me, how long it might take me to get home, or how much they may be charging me (or the paratransit company that sometimes uses their services) to get me home.  I've BEEN in cabs where they couldn't figure out where to go, even though both the GPS AND I were TELLING them how to get to my address- because they didn't speak enough English to understand me or the machine.  And I assure you, that is both extremely frustrating, and pretty damned scary.  Last time it happened the guy wandered around w/me in the car around 11 at night, pulling into little alleys, parking in vacant lots and empty bank drive through lanes to do u-turns, get his bearings, n’ stop to figure out where he was n’ needed to go. And when you’re in the car with a stranger as a young woman, that shit is scary.  (Nor would it have happened w/someone who might have been new/confused n’ not known their job well. At least an English speaking person would have been able to understand my directions, and that of the GPS.)

Beyond my paltry personal safety concerns, companies who hire non-English speakers are also setting their employees AND their customers up for failure (not to mention a world of frustration).  if I call Greyhound to get help with a partial refund that they TOLD me to call for back after my trip, it should not take me literally ELEVEN calls filled with numerous attemptsto get help, because no one on the previous call or department spoke enough English to understand what I need.  I got people who didn't understand how to put me on hold or transfer me (rather than hang up), I got people who didn't understand what I asked, and then couldn't understand "I'd like to speak to a supervisor please," etc.  And that's not okay.  Customers end up hanging up out of frustration which isn't polite OR productive, and CS folks probably have no idea why, because they don't speak enough English to grok the problem!  And that’s a waste of time and money for EVERYONE involved.  The company loss money from customers who leave them, and the customers lose money from giving up on items, services, charges and other issues they can’t gain access to & thus go addressed or uncompleted.  People buy from OTHER cable companies. OTHER sandwich companies. OTHER clothiers. And bills go unpaid. That’s not okay.

And as a customer, I do my very, VERY best to be courteous and considerate to the folks on the other end of the line, no matter WHO they may be, so please don’t accuse me of xenophobia, racism, etc.  I make pains to be calm and polite to CS folks because I've been one myself, and my family has generations of service industry people in it.  I know from years of personal experience what it's like to be behind the desk (or the phone) and have people treat you like garbage, or a non-person, forgetting that there's a -real- human being behind that phone- or that desk. I get it.  So I make pains NEVER to be -that- person.  

But if your customer service doesn't speak enough English to do even the BASIC TENANTS of their job, there's no -real- customer service happening.  You're essentially paying people to sit there and get nothing done, while your customers get ticked- or brushed- off.  Customer or CSR, we ALL have our limits, and putting people who doesn’t speak English in language-saturated jobs is like putting a VI person in a sight-dependant job.  I’ve been there. It doesn’t work, isn’t fun for ANYBODY, and sets EVERYONE up for failure.  Including your business.  I shouldn’t be put in a position to have to read smudged, 7pt font, just like someone who doesn’t understand more than “how can I help you” should be put in a job where complex English phrases are used just to get through ONE call.  Either way, the job isn’t getting done well or efficiently, or happily.  

But then.. I as an employee need to be honest w/myself and my boss, just like my boss must with himself, for the sake of his company’s well-being.  If I can’t read 12 point font in a sight-based job and tell someone I can, that’s MY issue, ‘cause I’ve lied to my boss and made my problem theirs.  But if I say I can’t and a boss hires me anyway thinking I can fudge my way through ‘cause they can’t be bothered to hire someone with the necessary skills, then that’s an even BIGGER one.  I don’t expect my taxi driver to understand fancy terms like “forced perspective” or be able to converse eloquently about poetry or plus-size fashion.  Sure, I get that English is a complex as HELL language, but a person should be able to do the basics of what they’re hired to do.  So if I’m not asking about complicated food additive ingredients like methyltriglycerodextro-something or other when I call about my cell phone bill, my expectation is that they’ll know enough about the job AND the language to get what I need done.  That.. shouldn’t be an unreasonable expectation.  -Because we expect businesses to be competent in whatever arena we’re PAYING THEM to be proficient in.  I’m not gonna ask my sandwich maker to find my house, nor my taxi driver to make me a sandwich.  And sure, new employees exist, and there’s ALWAYS a learning curve- to EVERY job. I get that.  But they don’t grok phrases inherent within the realm of their job description, that’s a problem.  No matter the origin, employees NEED to be able to function within their job arenas. Because it’s what they’re being PAID to do.  And "Turn right." "I'm looking for an item in your store, with the title X & item number Y."  Or, worse comes to worse, "I'd like to talk to a supervisor." are not neuroscientific terms that fall directly within certain, specific job descriptions/arenas.  I’m not gonna call Greyhound asking to fix my bank bill, yanno?  Most often these conversations are about pretty simple, relatable terms and needs.  Sandwiches. Cable bills.  Makeup. Shoes. Bus tickets. A ride home.  And if your employee can’t comprehend the basic job phrases, that’s a problem.

And please, please don't patronize people by arguing that nonsense about different native English speakers having different accents and dialects and thus, not being able to understand each other. Sure, I as a person w/no accent may not catch everything someone from South Carolina says, but if we’re at a lake and I hear something about a pole and fish, I’m not gonna think they wanna take me skydiving.. yanno?  If people around the world who speak Arabic, Spanish or French (some of the most widely spoken languages around the globe) can understand one another, regardless of country or dialect, then a person from Alabama should be able to understand a person in Boston- or vice versa. Sometimes it takes patience and time, and yes, sometimes there's a difference in colloquialisms, or ya might not understand eeeevvvery word, but if a person from Nebraska calls a person in Austin, TX, I'm pretty sure they're both gonna understand "I'd like to make an exchange," I need to refund a service fee" or "turn right here at the light, please."  Because they have a COMMON LANGUAGE.  

I’m not saying it isn’t hard to learn English.  I’m not saying it isn’t admirable for folks from other countries to movie here and begin to make a new life, which includes learning a HUGELY complex new tongue.   What I AM saying is that it doesn't matter where you're from; the simple fact is, you can't do your job if you don't understand the basic phrases INTRINSIC to that job.  Native English speaker or no.   And I’m tired of having to pay the price because companies aren’t willing or able to train their staff well, or hire well-prepared staff, capable of doing the jobs we’re both paying them to do.  

It’s more than just a sandwich. Or a cable bill. Or my electricity.  It’s my life.