#the image has been in ny head all day

[elmocult]

ephelayer "baking my long distance bf into a cookie because i miss him" . is this anything

[minnielvrr]

Oooh I just had an idea for Switch!Leeknow and Switch!Felix. They’re at NY fashion week right? What if after the show they’re relaxing in the hotel and Felix offers LK a massage but also sneaks in tickles for fun. But of course LK has to get Felix back and it turns into a sweet tickle fight. Idk if you like my idea but if you wanna turn it into something go for it, but you don’t have to.

After Party

Lees: Felix, Minho Lers: Minho, Felix Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: this idea inspired me so much🤭thank you for the request anon!!🤗💞

Tags: @itzsana-kiddingmenow, @lajanaa, @bbybumblelee, @hearted-anon, @lunalattae,

@jungwon-is-the-one, @reginald-stay09

"Hyungie you were SO nervous and tense today. Your body must be aching," Felix sympathized, cuddling up to the curled figure in the middle of the bed.

They had both showered and were ready to sleep, but the day had been an eventful one and Felix knew he’d have to help the older (and himself) lose a few more joules of energy before they’d actually feel tired.

Minho’s eyes were wide and glassy as he stared blankly at the wall, and Felix found the sight before him endlessly adorable. Over the years, a little of Minho's tsundere nature had leaked into his real persona.

That meant he got shy and flustered much more easily whenever he got a compliment or was teased. And tonight, Lix was craving a glimpse of that side.

He wanted to see Minho red and teary, wanted to have the older squirming and begging Lix to stop through his sweet, unrestrained laughter.

With that vivid image in mind, the younger gently eased Lino back so he was lying with his back to the mattress. The older blinked up in confusion but didn’t resist.

“Let me give you a nice, relaxing massage hyungie.” He told him, scooting down and taking ahold of Minho’s feet. Lix began, working his magic on Lino’s tired soles.

The older sighed and relaxed almost immediately, all but melting into the mattress. “Thanks, Lix,” he said softly, his eyes slipping shut in bliss.

Felix smiled, working diligently until he felt a sudden twitch. Minho didn’t seem to think too much of it, lying still. It made the Aussie smirk in delight, hiding his ulterior motives under his curtain of long hair.

He pressed at the spot, staying there as Minho’s foot jerked and wiggled and the kitten finally opened his eyes to glare at the younger. “Don’t.”

“Now that’s no way to talk to your dongsaeng hyungie~” He teased, rubbing quickly at the spot to have Minho squirming. “What are you trying to do?”

“I'm going to massage you aaaall over hyungie. Don't worry, I won't miss a spot.” He assured and Minho flushed at his words, flopping down and bringing the blanket over his head.

Lix cooed, dragging his nails in slow, deliberate strokes along the sensitive sides of Lino’s feet.

Minho’s foot jolted, little bursts of giggles escaping as he peeked from over the blanket at the way Felix smiled then quickly raked his fingers down his soles once, laughing meanly at how it made Minho squeal.

“Boohohokkie plehehease!! Ihihit’s soHOHO baHAHAHAd!!”

"You really are named perfectly aren't you hyung? LEE Minho suits you well, you were practically destined to be so helplessly sensitive. So ticklish and so adorably shy at the best of times. I'm honestly surprised we don't tickle you more often.”

As he talked Felix started scribbling over the arches, watching in amusement at how it made poor Minho buck and squeal and fist the blanket tightly.

“Lihihihix nohoho!! Ihim tihehehred!! AH-NONONO! shihiHIHIHIHIhit!!”

“Oh? Is this place extra ticklish hyungie?” Felix teased, noticing that Minho seemed to avoid the word.

He scratched under the toes, loving the way it got Minho howling with laughter, kicking out desperately through the sensations.

He tested the area, switching form slow, lazy strokes and quick, insistent motions, observing each reaction it earned.

“NahahahahaHAHAHA! PLEHEASE!! Ihi cahaHAhan’t thehere! GOHODS FELIX!!!”

The kitten was thrown into hysterical cackles at the faster tickles and his laughter would lighten up and get giddier at the slower ones.

It was beautiful…and a little funny.

Then Lix crawled up the bed, gently pulling the blanket aside. Minho’s ears had turned pink, his lips unable to fight off the wide smile that was formed. With a grin, the younger latched his hands onto the kitten’s lower sides.

He kneaded the spot vigorously and laughed along with him as Minho fell apart slowly but surely.

“AHHH SHIT! Lihihixie plehehehHEASE!! ihihi cahAHAN’T TAHAKE IHIT ANYHYHYMOHORE!!”

“Gosh I can’t believe someone this ticklish exists. Even just this,” Lix wiggled a finger in the older’s belly,” can have you so defenseless.”

Felix’s smile was pure evil as he alternated between spots, the feather flying all over Minho’s torso while his free hand ran chaotically all over the Minho’s thighs and hips and belly.

“AHAHAHAHAHAHA NAHAHAHAHAHAHA PLEAHEASE!”

Reality was even better than Felix imagined it. Minho’s eyes were twinkling with mirth, tears slipping down his red cheeks and his lips were pulled back, leaving his bunny teeth on full display.

Broken pleas fell from his mouth in strings and Felix stopped to give the kitten a chance to breathe, stroking his hair gently as the older gasped through his residual giggles.

Felix’s heart swelled in fondness and he leaned forward to plant a tender kiss onto Minho’s forehead, smiling when the older pushed him away shyly.

Felix’s laughter finally subsided as Minho caught his breath, gleaming eyes turning to the younger. Before Felix could protest, Minho swiftly flipped them over and pinned him down.

“Your turn!” Felix heard in a whisper near his ear before Minho flashed a cocky smirk at him and rolled them over, pinning Felix to the bed.

The kitten smirked, "You do realize that applies to you too, right LEE Yongbokkie? Aren't you even *more ‘*sensitive’ than I am?"

“C'mon you can say the word hyung, TICKLE. It's TICKLING that we're doing now and what I did to you a few seconds ago.”

“Shut up!” Minho’s hands descended on the chick’s sides, Lix yelping when he was given a few prods to

“Remind me again, which of us can't handle this even a little bit?” The moment Felix parted his lips to answer, Minho's fingers swooped down, vibrating into the Aussie's abs. Lix shrieked, his hands snapping down to grapple with Minho's but he wasn't nearly strong enough.

“Not so cocky now are you baby? You really thought I wouldn’t get you back for that little stunt you pulled hm?”

Each word brought with it more and more laughter from Felix, his head thrown back as he squealed and giggled and twisted under the never-ending attacks.

The sounds were bright and bubbly, and Minho loved how Felix looked, writhing and laughing his head off. ”Hyuhung! Hyuhuhuhung plehease!! youHUHU knohow ihi wahaHAHAS JUHUST TEHEHEASING!!”

“Do you know what my favorite move is to use on you? I have one for everyone…and yours, are feathers!” Minho exclaimed, pulling out a feather from his jacket pocket.

Felix’s eyes widened as he saw the feather, but before he could protest, Minho’s hands were already moving again, and this time, he knew there would be no escape.

“W-why? How? Wha—ahehehehe hyuhuhungie nohoHOHO!!” His stutters were cut off by peals of laughter when Minho fluttered the soft feather over his neck while one hand still squeezed and scribbled relentlessly at his waist.

His sounds grew more urgent, rising in pitch and then disappearing altogether. Then it would come back louder, breathier and more frantic. Just the way Minho loved it.

He was normally much gentler with the Aussie, treating Lix like his baby but he knew that Lix liked rough tickles a whole lot more on certain days. Today seemed to be one of those times.

So why not humor him?

“FUHUHUHUCK! HYUHUHUNG, CHAHANGE—CHAHAHAHAHANGE SPOHOTS!! PLEASE OHO MY GAHAHAHAHA!!”

“Aww change spots? Not stop? You really like this don’t you?”

“YOUHUHU WOHOHON’T STOHAHAHAHA EHEHEVEN IHIF IHIHIHI TOLD YOUHU!!” Lix protested through wild cackles.

“That’s true.”

“MEHEHEHEANIHIHIE!” Lix bucked and arched and jerked away, finding no reprieve when the older’s hands seamlessly followed his every movement.

The poor boy was hysterical, twisting and squirming as the unbearable took over every nerve on his skin, sending lightning shocks of tickles racing to his brain.

His face and neck were so red and his lashes were wet with tears. Minho went on for a few more moments before stopping, flopping down next to the giggly puddle on the ruffled sheets.

He spooned the little one closer, fluttering light kisses over his freckles as Lixie scrunched his face bashfully. “Stoooop~” He whines, half-heartedly, nuzzling his face in Minho’s chest to escape.

It wasn’t long before the two were quietly snoring away, snuggled close together, with Minho’s hands wrapped protectively over Lixie.

[free-luigi-mangione]

The death penalty, really? Do you live in some sort of a bizarro universe where the justice system is biased against rich white men? Of course he won't get the death penalty, quit it with the melodrama. Nothing's gonna happen to him even if he did do it, he's obviously gonna get away with a slap on the wrist.

anon, are we both really talking about the same man?? Luigi Mangione???

the guy who's being charged in three separate jurisdictions for one alleged offense??? which even his lawyer, who was state prosecutor of NY said was unprecedented??? the same person who despite being charged in three jurisdictions isn't being taken from NY to PA to attend court hearings??? the person whose constitutional rights are being constantly violated from the time of his unlawful arrest??? the same person who got charged with murder in the first degree in furtherance of terrorism despite allegedly killing only one person??? that too in the same country where school shooters shoot multiple innocent children and are never charged for anything like terrorism when they in fact do terrorise children in schools??? are we really talking about the same Luigi who is facing federal charges where they're still holding him on complaint and haven't indicted him yet despite it being more than three months since the time of his arrest??? and the fact that they're able to do so only because they're holding the death penalty over his head because of an executive order by y'all's beloved new president which basically ordered the federal state to pursue the death penalty wherever eligible???

not only that, are we really talking about the innocent man who's been painted by mainstream media as guilty, as a monster, as a killer, as a terrorist from the day of his arrest??? the same person about whom the media has made and released at least four documentaries proving his guilt in the court of media trial despite his constitutional right to the presumption of innocence and the fact that that in itself violates his right to a fair trial in a court of law??? what about the staged overly aggressive perp walk that he was subjected to, with even the mayor of NY walking behind him and parading him around like a trophy??? what about the fact that during his last court hearing at SDNY, the judge refused to let his feet be unshackled in the courtroom, during court proceedings, in a room filled with people and law enforcement upon request from his lawyer despite her insistence that he has been a model prisoner??? what about the fact that he isn't even being given the mail that he recieves, on time and without delay when the letters he writes are his only method of connecting with the outside world and saying something in his own voice??? what about the fact that the daily mail and several other publications ran with a fake story of completely nonsensical leaked sex tapes allegations just a week ago, which his lawyer had to verify are very much not him??? what about all these attempts to smear his name and image because he comes from a wealthy family and is very well educated and attractive and is very well liked by the common public??? what about the media's and government's attempts at tainting the jury in favour of prosecution with all those headlines that never use the word alleged, and those documentaries that speak of evidence that has yet to be handed over to his lawyers?? what about the police's attempts to call his personal notebook a manifesto deliberately to try and convince the public he's a home grown terrorist??? do you have an answer to any of that???

can you tell me how despite all of this and more happening around him, we should not be worried about him losing his life to the death penalty and even if that is somehow avoided, losing his life in prison at the hands of the authorities where the authorities claim he killed himself??? why should we as people who only see an innocent man, a fellow human whose every right has been violated since the time he was arrested, not be worried about the authorities doing away with him anyhow because they see him as a symbol of uprising from the commoners???

and let me tell you anon, you should be worried too, because this isn't about the people in power versus one Luigi Mangione, it is about every commoner and their rights versus the tyrannical government y'all have.

[tavolgisvist]

This Is Not Here exhibition in Syracuse, October 1971

The whole story in a nutshell is that we were having a meeting in 1969, and John showed up and said he’d met this guy Allen Klein, who had promised Yoko an exhibition in Syracuse, and then matter-of-factly John told us he was leaving the band. That’s basically how it happened. It was three to one because the other two went with John, so it was looking like Allen Klein was going to own our entire Beatles empire. I was not too keen on that idea.

(Paul McCartney, The Lyrics, 2021, about Too Many People)

Ram (piss off cake, that was your first mistake and whatever John heard) released 17 May 1971 Imagine (with HDYS?) released 9 September 1971 (US) and 8 October in UK

This Is Not Here Press Conference at Everson Museum in Syracuse, NY (October 8, 1971)

Q: What do you think of Paul, John? A: I’ve changed, you know, he’s still the closest friend I’ve ever had except for Yoko. So I mean I’m still close to him whatever goes on.

On 9 October 1971, John Lennon’s 31st birthday, a retrospective exhibition of artworks by Yoko Ono opened at the Everson Museum of Art in Syracuse, New York.

The show looked back over 10 years of her career, and was billed as “A show of unfinished paintings and sculpture”. It ran until 27 October 1971.

The exhibition catalogue took the form of a collage in the shape of a newspaper, and was compiled by Lennon and Peter Bendry. The back cover featured a sequence of photographs of Lennon and Ono which morphed their faces from one to another. The sequence was later used on the labels for ‘Happy Xmas (War Is Over)’ and Some Time In New York City.

Guests for the opening night included Ringo Starr and his wife Maureen Starkey, Allen Klein, Phil Spector, Bob Dylan, Andy Warhol, Frank Zappa, Spike Milligan, Jack Nicholson, Dick Cavett, John Cage and Dennis Hopper. Lennon gave all visitors a silver necklace to mark the occasion. (x)

This Is Not Here

The main title “This is Not Here” recalls an experience during a gallery show in 1961, at which an ugly cabinet that was interfering with the exhibition space was tagged “this is not here,” in the spirit of Magritte’s famous painted image “Ceci n’est pas une pipe.” <…> The ground floor of the museum housed pieces like Painting to Shake Hands Through, Painting to Let the Evening Light Go Through, and a clear plexiglass labyrinth called Amaze, whose central cubicle was a two-way mirror-walled chamber containing a toilet! Although it is not a very difficult puzzle, the structure forces you to take part in a Conceptual event by making you arrive at something as familiar as a toilet. <…> A number of pieces in the show reiterate the theme of small, diverse parts in relation to a larger, cumulative unity. <…> Sizes (1964), a transparent box with mirrors and lenses embedded in its sides, converts the same needle into six different sizes; while Shadows encloses objects with different silhouettes, all casting shadows of the same size and shape. It is intended that Broken Vase Piece will be reassembled in ten years by those who gathered its shattered fragments.8 Film No. 4 (365 naked British bottoms, recorded as peace petition signatures in London, in 1968) is a bizarrely hypnotic and fixed-camera view of that number of moving buttocks. Of course, 365 units of anything could have been employed just as easily—days in a year, degrees of rotation around one’s head, stars, leaves, etc.—to demonstrate that although everything is an individual entity, sheer accumulation has the effect of dissolving the unique into the universal. <…> The second floor contained imaginary pieces such as those in the Weight Room, in which objects defied their normal density or gravity factors when lifted; indications like “imagine flowers in the (empty) museum planters”; and some cooperative pieces where John Lennon responded to older works of Yoko’s like an amiable Zen dialogue. Water Room was a collection of projects contributed by guests, to which the artist had promised to add only the water. (In its final stages, it turned out to be Conceptual, rather than actual water.) <…> During the month that the Everson show was in progress, WNET, Channel 13, aired an hour of Yoko Ono’s work on its Free Time series, October 14th. The program was largely excerpts from past pieces: Grapefruit in the World of Park (mind music), film shorts, Think/Feel/And/Do/Tank, Bag Piece, or Fly performed by John Lennon and others, and several events and paintings.

(“This Is Not Here” - A Report on the Yoko Ono Retrospective at Syracuse by Emily Wasserman, January 1972)

Much of the show consisted of Miss Ono's ephemeral concepts and word ‐ plays given slightly less fragile embodiment, A huge letter “T” made of ice melted in an outdoor courtyard„ for instance (“Iced Tea”), and indoors there were such objects as “Painting to Let the Evening Light Go Through,” a clear Plexigiass sheet that Mr. Lennon said was his favorite work; “Imagine the Flowers,” a row of empty flower pots, and “Cloud Piece,” a water bed on which the viewer could “lie down and watch until a cloud passes from right to left.” “Total communication can mean peace,” declared Miss Ono, clad in a black velvet hotpants suit, at a preview of the show on Friday. “The artist can change the world and values in the world.” Stressing the importance of viewer participation in her work, she said, “We're all audience and we're all artists. You're all involved.” (Before the press preview was over, there was a good deal of participation: the apple was eaten to its core, a Venetian vase sent by Peggy Guggenheim as a “watercontainer” was smashed, and an antique eyeglas case and a set of false teeth were missing from their vitrines.) Modestly insisting that his role in the show was subordinate to Miss Ono's, Mr. Lennon, whose 31st birthday was marked by the show's opening, explained, “She thinks up beautiful pure concept things, and I come up with a gimmicky reaction.” For his guest stint, he contributed such works as a wardrobe of edible clothes, and a number of films and pieces “in dialogue” with Miss Ono, among them a huge “Baby Grand Guitar” next to which she had placed only the neck of another guitar and the legend, “Imagine the body.”

(The New York Times, October 11, 1971)

John and the guests of his birthday party drunkly sang many old and new songs including What’d I Say, Yellow Submarine, Goodnight Irene, Take This Hammer, He’s Got The Whole World In His Hands, Bring It On Home To Me, Yesterday, Maybe Baby, Peggy Sue, My Baby Left Me, Heartbreak Hotel, Blue Suede Shoes, Crippled Inside and Uncle Albert/Admiral Halsey

Also during the party, a Japanese reporter interviewed Lennon and Ono. The recording, which featured a high degree of tension between the couple, became known as The Argument Interview, and was later aired on the US radio series The Lost Lennon Tapes. (x)

In the fall of 1971 Connolly travelled to the US to cover Yoko’s show in Syracuse. During this trip, John pulled Ray aside and asked him to do him a favor. He asked Ray to get in touch with Paul when he was back in London — with a message to call him. Apparently John wanted to talk to Paul and he believed if he called Paul himself it would devolve into a screaming match.  Ray did as requested when he returned to London. He went to Paul’s home and though he wasn’t able to connect with Paul, he did leave him a message in his letterbox. When he followed up a few days later, it was Jim McCartney that answered the phone and he shut Ray down, telling Ray not to get involved, that things had moved on. 

(onesweetdreampodcast about interview with Ray Connolly) (x)

[hard-core-super-star]

Tmz vacation pictures. My bad.

the sweetest torture one could bear [H.Steinfeld]

full request: Hi, I have part of a request. Aha, I didn't know what else to put with it, so do with that what you will. Instead of JA being in the videos and photos with Hailee, it's Reader.

pairing: hailee steinfeld x reader

summary: when you and hailee are flown out on vacation to promote your growing 'relationship', you find out there's more than meets the eye when it comes to the actress...and your feelings for her.

warnings: enemies-to-lovers type vibe with a semi-happy ending; PR relationship + stunts; like two JA mentions; R being a jerk to hailee and vice versa; so many petty arguments and hidden feelings; R is technically also famous but it never gets expanded upon whoops; 110% got carried away because of lacy by olivia rodrigo

wordcount: 2.5k

a/n: i know you said you didn't have anything in mind, lovely anon, but i think i took your idea and RAN with it. i just needed someplace to put all the emotions hailee's been bringing out of me lately with the stupid JA situation so i can continue to write fics for her. that's why the NY stunt is still a thing that happens in this fic. hope you enjoy despite how scathing some of my comments can be in this <3

* * * * * * *

Dating a famous celebrity is supposed to be fun. At least that’s what you imagine things would be like if you were dating anyone but Hailee freaking Steinfeld.

Although, to be fair, the word dating technically doesn’t apply to your situation.

Even calling it a PR relationship is incredibly generous. You’re pretty much just damage control after whatever mess happened in New York with her and that quarterback.

Of course, it was a mess she created and once it blew up in her face she was forced to retreat and avoid looking like a bigger asshole…which is where you come in. You don’t know how or why but somehow you got roped into things and now you’re being forced to help the brunette clean up her image.

Maybe forced is being dramatic but your team didn’t even let you attempt to talk them out of the idea and instead shoved you onto a private plane headed to Mexico City for a Fourth of July mini-vacation with the one and only Hailee Steinfeld.

Also known as the one person you’d never willingly go out with. Much less on a mini-vacation that only has one goal: get as many paparazzi as possible to take pictures of the two of you so speculation will run wild and distract Hailee’s fans from the New York stunt.

You have no doubt the plan will work which just pisses you off even more.

You’re not new to this life of hiding or the lies it comes with but there’s something about the way the brunette handles things that just rubs you the wrong way. She straddles the border between genuine and fake so often that you’re sure she doesn’t even know who she is most days.

Hence her constant disappearances from the public eye nowadays. Disappearances that just make her stunts with the quarterback even more confusing.

You’re not here to figure the actress out though, you just have to fake a few smiles, hold her hand, and pretend you actually like each other. The media and her fans will do the rest.

Whether the result of your stunt ends with people speculating you're in a relationship or just a public denunciation of her connection to said quarterback is ultimately up to her team so all you two really have to do is pretend.

Something that would be easy…if your distaste for each other wasn’t so obvious.

“Did your lovely team forget the part where we’re not actually a couple?” You question the second you arrive at your hotel room, only to find a single king-sized bed in the middle of the room.

“Why do you assume it was my team that messed up?” She fires back, eyebrow raised in defiance.

You roll your eyes as you finish wheeling your suitcase inside. You don’t even bother to argue about who gets the bed and instead put your things down on the couch set up in the corner of the room. After all, you’re still a gentleman. “Because this whole thing was their idea.”

“They actually know how to do their job, unlike some people.” Her verbal jab isn’t lost on you and it quickly silences the small voice in your head that was urging you to try and get along with her.

“And what’s my job? Pretending you’re the center of the universe?”

“It’d be a nice start.”

“Too bad I’m not the academy-award nominated actress here.” Out of anyone else’s mouth, it would be a compliment but you both know that’s not the way you meant those words.

Hailee doesn’t say anything in response. She just glares at you as if that’ll make you disappear.

Unfortunately, it doesn't, which means you’re still stuck in this same situation with the same pair of eyes that wish they could send you six feet underground…or, at the very least, six rooms away from her.

That glare is more than enough to draw the conversation to a close for the moment. The awkward silence that sticks around instead is just as bad though and you’re actually glad when Hailee’s phone goes off.

You watch, with a slightly amused smile, as the actress argues with one of the many poor souls from her PR team.

She’s clearly not as amused as you are considering the string of curse words that reverberate around the small room. You pick up enough information to know there’s already a plan and a schedule for the pap shots so the two of you have to be on top of your game sooner rather than later.

There’s a split second during the phone call where your eyes meet hers and everything else seems to fade away for those few moments. 

There’s no badly suppressed annoyance in her eyes, no vacant look that represents the hundreds of walls she’s put up to keep you locked out of her mind and heart. For the briefest of seconds, she seems…real. It’s as if the mask she so easily wears to hide who she is slips and leaves behind the uncertainty she seems to detest so much.

Ironically, that uncertainty would make her a lot more bearable in your opinion.

The moment ends as quickly as it started and in no time at all, you’re back to being passive-aggressive while pretending to like each other.

“So, what’s the plan here?” You hate how much you care about not further ruining her life by messing up the pap shots. “Last time I checked, you weren’t out of your glass closet yet.”

“Are you saying you check up on me often?” She replies as she gets into the private pool next to you.

For some reason, her team had decided the two of you should kick things off with some pool pictures before going out to dinner tomorrow night. It’s a pretty ridiculous idea but nothing screams summer romance like paparazzi pictures at the pool and/or the beach. 

“Yeah, it’s like watching a trainwreck. I can’t look away no matter how hard I try.”

“Funny.” 

She sits across from you and you do all you can to stop your eyes from wandering across her face. It’s impossible to deny how attractive she is, no matter how long her list of contradicting personality traits is.

You assume she’s forgotten about your question until she speaks up a few moments later. “There’s no real plan. We don’t have to actually kiss for people to think there’s something going on.”

“What a relief.” 

The brunette rolls her eyes at you but no snarky comeback escapes her lips. It might be too insignificant to call it progress but at least you’re having a conversation that doesn’t turn into an argument.

Nothing significant happens after that besides Hailee spotting the paparazzi and both of you pulling the most authentic smiles you can muster onto your faces. Turns out, the fake smiling is the easy part, finding something to talk about is the hard part.

You let her talk up and down about Hawkeye and Across the Spiderverse until you’re finally able to go back to hiding inside the hotel room.

It pains you to admit it but she’s not half bad when she’s talking about her projects. Being alone certainly helps ease some of her anxieties and you’re sure her people-pleasing tendencies have disappeared around you. (You’re not sure if that’s a compliment or not...not that you care either way.)

You push away your slightly conflicting, and borderline confusing, feelings as you make your way back into your room. 

And maybe your eyes wander down to her abs a few times and maybe you catch her looking your way once or twice but that doesn’t matter. Sharing one moment with her where she feels like an actual person instead of a walking brand deal isn’t going to change your mind about her.

You make it back into the room and a few peaceful minutes go by until Hailee’s phone goes off once again, her face twisting from annoyance to shock to genuine dread in the span of five seconds. You can’t explain why but something inside you urges you to step out onto the balcony and leave her alone. 

So you do just that.

Contrary to the way you act when you’re around her, you do sort of care for her in ways you’d rather not think about. It’s just hard to show that side of yourself when she does everything in her power to get under your skin. It might not be on purpose but that doesn’t make it any less grating. 

You rise to your feet and grab the towels you had left hanging on the back of a chair. You don’t say a word as you slide the balcony door open but you swear you hear her mumble out a thank you before you slip outside.

Maybe things between you two aren’t so hopeless after all.

It might be wishful thinking but things are surprisingly calm for the next few hours. It's not until you’re getting ready to fall asleep and forget everything that’s happened today that she speaks to you again.

“You don’t have to sleep on the couch, y’know? The bed is big enough for both of us.”

You turn to look at her, doing a terrible job of hiding the surprised look on your face. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“It’s fine, y/n.” She shrugs as if sharing a bed with her isn’t a big deal. “Just don’t snore or I’ll kick you to the ground.”

“Yes, ma’am,” you reply sarcastically.

A tense silence fills the room after that and neither of you makes any attempts to break it. Hailee busies herself with double-checking that everything is locked while you climb into bed, turning onto your side and attempting to put as much space as possible between the two sides of the bed.

She turns the lights off, leaving you in the darkness with a rapidly beating heart. You’re not sure why you’re nervous but you have a feeling falling asleep is going to be almost impossible tonight.

You lay there for what feels like hours, doing your best not to think about how close your bodies are right now. You saw her in a bikini earlier today, why are you freaking out over sharing the same bed?

You’re in the middle of mentally arguing with yourself when you hear Hailee let out a series of deep breaths. Anxiety isn’t a stranger to you and you suddenly worry something might have triggered a panic attack.

“You okay?” You speak up despite yourself. “Did you finally realize you fucked over your queer fans with the QB stuff?”

You can’t help but poke the bear even when you’re supposed to be checking up on her. 

She doesn’t respond and a few seconds later, you hear her sniffle, the guilt immediately hitting you like a runaway train. “Hailee? I’m sorry, I shouldn't have said that.”

“Republic dropped me.” Her voice is barely audible but there’s no denying the pain it carries.

The urge to turn around and look at her is far too strong for you to ignore so you take a deep breath before giving in. You turn onto your other side so you’re facing her, not wanting to ruin her moment of vulnerability by appearing uninterested. 

Her eyes are trained on the ceiling above her but you can make out the glimmer of unshed tears in the warm pool of her eyes. She doesn’t give you a chance to speak up, she just continues as if you’re not looking at her with real empathy in your gaze for the first time since you met.

“I should’ve seen it coming, you know? With all the hesitation and the drawn-out meetings. Coast was supposed to be my chance to prove myself and it did nothing. I hoped rushing SunKissing would fix things but it just made everything worse.”

“And then New York happened,” you mumble.

“Yeah-” Her voice breaks and you hate the way your heart aches for her. “I should’ve just owned up to it but I couldn’t. I didn’t want to admit I was grasping at straws so when my team told me to bring you into this mess…I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Saying no would have been a good start.”

“I’m sorry,” she mumbles as she turns her head to the side, allowing your eyes to meet in the darkness. “You don’t deserve any of this.”

The sincerity in her words strikes you “Oh, come on, I’m no saint. I’ve been nothing but a pain in the ass since we got here.”

“You're right. You're awful.”

“Shut up, Steinfeld.”

She laughs. 

An actual laugh that makes the corners of her glossy eyes crinkle up in a way that makes your heart skip a couple of beats. You’re sure you’ve never made her laugh like that in the time you’ve known each other. 

And you hate the way you’re already obsessed with the sound.

“We don’t have to keep doing this,” she says suddenly before fully turning her body toward you. “It was a stupid idea anyway, it’s not going to change people’s minds.”

“Maybe you’re the one who has to change her mind.” You offer the only advice you can think of. “Pretending like everything’s okay isn’t doing you any favors, Lee.”

The nickname slips out of your mouth without a second thought. You don’t even realize you said it out loud until Hailee questions you about it. “Lee? Five hours ago you wanted me out of your life and now you’re giving me a nickname?”

“Five hours ago I wasn’t sure you even had feelings.”

Your comment would have surely earned you a glare earlier but now you get a smile instead. “Point taken.”

“I mean it, though. Stop doing what you think everyone else wants you to do and do what you want. You owe yourself that much.”

“The things I want will just make things worse,” she says, the smallest of frowns tugging at her lips.

“Maybe it’s worth it.”

You have no idea what her words truly mean until you catch her eyes drifting down to your lips.

Everything inside of you tells you to make a joke, or piss her off, or at the very least, turn around and pretend to go to sleep. Anything to stop both of you from making a huge mistake.

But then her hand reaches out to touch your waist and you find yourself leaning toward her without a second thought.

It’s stupid and reckless and the last thing you should add to this already messy situation and yet it’s the only thing you want to do. You don’t want to argue with her anymore, you just want her. Even if it’s only for the night.

“What are we doing?” You whisper, your lips barely inches away from hers.

“I don’t know…do you want me to stop?”

You meet her eyes and reach your decision. “No.”

It’s all the encouragement she needs to close the gap between you, her lips claiming yours in a surprisingly soft kiss. You tangle your hand in her hair to pull her closer as a thought suddenly dawns on you.

There’s no way to deny how attracted you are to her. No way to deny how drawn you are to her despite all the things that get under your skin about her. 

No way to deny that you’re actually falling for Hailee Steinfeld.

Shit.

[bluelotuswrites]

i love ask games!!! is three asks excessive? three might be excessive… pick and choose if you don’t want to answer all of them!

🥤 ⇢ recommend an author or fanfic you l

🍄 ⇢ share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairing

🎨 ⇢ link your favourite piece of fanart and explain why you like it

hope you’re having a good day and your wips aren’t giving you trouble <3

🥤 ⇢ recommend an author or fanfic you love

I'm gonna link a couple because I have lots.

butcherbird, fly away home One of Jason's instructors kidnaps Bruce fucking Wayne. This changes nothing, or at least that's what Jason keeps telling himself.

Six Degrees of Separation by @oliocelottafanfics Catatonic Jason is picked up by Penelope Garcia from Criminal Minds. It changes many things. Very good and fun

Melodyverse by @rainymeadows If you like Professor Layton vs Phoenix Wright, then this is a fun continuation fic.

The Wayward Boy Instead of Jason going after his mother in Ethiopia, he instead enlists in the military.

Ed Elric/Marvel Fem!Ed gets transported to the MCU during Capitain America First Avenger movie. It's actually really good and I hope the author is doing well since it's been a few years since they updated.

The Volatile Verse Comics Jason crosses dimensions to YJ season 1 and becomes a big brother figure to Dick. It's locked so you'll need an AO3 account to see it.

Batman: Arkham Compendium Listen to me. When I tell you this is the best Arkhamverse fic, I mean it. It follows Jason's life in Arkhamverse from before and after Arkham Knight. The author left the fandom a long time ago, but I will forever love the worldbuilding that was put into it.

Not that big a distance really Bucky and Jason meet after Bucky goes to Jason's apartment address in NJ instead of NY. Bucky and Steve becomes kinda like a pseudo-dad figure to Jason.

Remnant Michael Afton is on the YJ Season 1 team and has super powers after the incident at Sister Location. He's 15-16 in this, and William Afton is one fucked up dude. It sounds like a concept that is so out there but it's actually really fucking good.

🍄 ⇢ share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairing

Okayyyy so. I'm not really an active fandom shipper? I guess the only one I really am open about is Laywright. For them, I headcanon that during the 7 years that Phoenix was disbarred, he had met up with Hershel and was the person he knew in London. Also, Hershel helped him back on his feet and was a soundboard for Phoenix's idea for revamping the justice system in America.

For platonic pairing, I headcanon that Tim and Jason tend to have regular bitch sessions about the idiots in Gotham/family. Tim is a sassy little shit in canon and Jason is Jason. When their paths cross or Bruce has pissed them off again, they go to one of Jason's safehouses where Jason cooks and they bitch about whatever is on their minds. Dick is not allowed and regularly gets kicked out if he tries to butt in.

🎨 ⇢ link your favourite piece of fanart and explain why you like it

Oh god, my favorite piece??? You're evil. I can't have just one! Okay, okay.

So this is actually a painting the lovely @gremlinscogs did for their art class based off RitCoS. It's glorious, and it was sent to me in DMs but they gave me permission to post. It's really a beautiful piece that captured the vibes of the first fic in Red is the Color of Sinners perfectly.

(digital concept art version they did)

Also, this bad boy by @speaching back when we first started talking and I teased a small chapter bit I had written but hadn't posted yet. I went to bed and woke up to that, and thus started a chaotic friendship that has lasted for quite some time.

Speach also drew this one that never fails to make me laugh. Just the image of Matt aggressively shoveling snow sends me.

[natrogersfics]

Article created by @teamromanoff for this 'verse years back! Read on AO3 Steve knows that there are not many things in this world that can leave Tony Stark and Pepper Potts slack-jawed. In terms of all things ridiculous, the couple has seen it all – Tony for being, well, Tony, and Pepper by having to put up with Tony for all these years. And yet, as he and Natasha stand behind the bar after informing them of the truth about their relationship, they find the usually eloquent pair rendered speechless.

The discussion of whether to let them in on their lie had not been a short one. On one hand, the smaller the circle of people who know, the less chance of a slip up there is – not that he and Natasha think that Tony or Pepper would go babbling to the press. They trust them implicitly, and if there’s ever a pair who understood the importance of concealing details about their lives to the press, it’s them. But if things go South, they don’t want to risk implicating their friends. Ultimately, though, the fact that they are some of their oldest friends trumped all the other reasons that had come about. They’re already keeping his actual family in the dark; the family they had chosen did not have to be subjected to the same treatment.

“Let me get this straight,” Tony says, shifting in his bar stool. “You’re telling us that this” – he gestures between them both – “isn’t real? Like, at all?”

His eyes widen at the volume at which Tony says the words, and despite there being an hour left before opening, like a reflex, he and Natasha let their eyes roam around the room to check for any unwanted attention the man may have garnered.

“Will you keep your voice down?” Natasha hisses at Tony. “We have employees in the back.” She gives their surroundings another once-over, and satisfied that no one had heard Tony’s outburst, she looks back at both him and Pepper. “And you two saw us just last week. We weren’t even together, much less engaged. How could you think this was real?”

“I don’t know,” Tony says, his expression twisting as if he’s only now considering the idea. “You two are always joined at the hip. We assumed that at one point the bulb would just go on.” He shrugs. “I never would have put money on you two playing 90 Day Fiancè- ow!”

“What Tony means,” Pepper says, looking at both of them as Tony winces next to her, “is that you two were very convincing. When Sarah announced your engagement, we didn’t have any reason to believe it wasn’t true.”

“Right,” Tony says, pulling out his phone. “Were we really supposed to think this was all fake?”

Steve looks at the picture on screen of him and Natasha on stage with his family before rolling his eyes. “For the hundredth time, yes.”

“What about this?” Tony says, swiping to show the picture of them kissing at the lobby of Cipriani’s on the front page of the NY Star. “And this?” Tony swipes again, moving to the picture of Natasha’s head on his shoulder at the Knicks game they attended with Thor and his wife, Jane. “And this?” The final image is of him and Natasha as they grabbed coffee on their way to do inventory this morning, and if he hadn’t already been jaded by how ruthless photographers could be when it comes to disregarding people’s privacy, he might have rolled his eyes at how quickly they’d gotten their picture circulating on the Internet.

He sighs. “All an act, Tony.”

“Well, shit,” Tony says before zooming in on the picture of Natasha’s engagement ring. “I mean, this looks really real. And expensive.” With a swipe of his finger, the screen shifts back to a gallery of their pictures on the NY Star website. “And these all look really real.”

“Tony, if you believe half the things they print in tabloids, then you’d have married half of Manhattan by now,” Natasha says.

Pepper smirks. “This is true.”

As Tony and Natasha continue to trade jabs, Steve stares back at the phone Tony is still holding out. There’s a part of him that has to admit that their friend isn’t wrong. He and Natasha do look like a couple, and truth be told, ever since the night they had taken their ruse public, every time they’ve had to act has just become easier and easier. But that’s the benefit of having been friends with someone for so long, he reminds himself. Their familiarity with one another has made it so that their learning curve in this has been practically nonexistent, and that’s precisely why Natasha’s the perfect partner in this ruse.

“So how long do you two plan on keeping this up?” Pepper questions, and if he’s honest, it’s the first sensible inquiry they’ve gotten since they revealed the truth.

He turns to Natasha for confirmation before looking back at Pepper. “Just until the deal closes with the Odinsons.”

“Then I look forward to your next performance as Mr. and Mrs. Rogers at the Odinson charity event tomorrow,” Tony says, whose smirk is wiped clean by the glare Pepper shoots his way.

“Well, if our reactions are anything to go by, obviously you two are playing this exceptionally well,” Pepper says. “But just be careful, all right? There are a lot of vultures out there.”

Steve sighs. “Don’t worry, we’re keeping an eye out for the media.”

“Among other things,” Pepper notes, reaching to take a sip of her water. “Anyway, and now for the other reason we wanted to come see you two.” She steals a glance at Tony before smiling. “We have some news.”

It’s slow for a Wednesday night, and with only a handful of patrons finishing up their drinks, Steve makes his way over to where Wanda is standing, her attention on the tablet resting on the surface of the bar. “Not to sound like a grandpa here, but… reading under these lights will do a number on your eyesight.”

Wanda looks up, her expression sheepish. “Sorry,” she says, flipping the cover over the screen. “It’s just with finals-”

“Wanda,” he interrupts with a chuckle before she can continue. “I was just kidding. Well, maybe not entirely about the eyesight thing.” He shrugs as Wanda rolls her eyes playfully at him. “You should take off. Study in proper lighting.”

“Thank you, Steve,” Wanda says, shaking her head. “But no. You and Nat have already been so understanding lately. I couldn’t do that.”

“We weren’t asking,” Natasha says, a smirk on her face as she comes to stand next to him. “It’s the middle of the week. I doubt any more people are coming in. Go.” She cranes her neck towards the direction of the sink at the end before calling out, “You too, Pete!”

“Thanks, guys!” Peter calls out.

“Be safe, kid,” he says, smiling as Peter gives them a thumbs up, before turning his attention back to Wanda. “See, leaving is that easy.”

Wanda looks at him and then at Natasha, who crosses her arms over her chest, before letting out a sigh. “Okay, fine,” she says, her smile full of gratitude. “You two are the best. Thank you.”

Natasha smiles. “Go.”

“I’m going, I’m going,” Wanda says, placing her hands up.

He and Natasha wave to Wanda as she exits, and as soon as the door closes behind their bartender, Natasha makes her way towards the end where Peter had left a batch of freshly washed crystal tumblers. As she takes one in her hand and a dish cloth in the other, he moves to stand next to her. “Do you think we have to let them know too?”

“I thought about it,” Natasha admits with a sigh. “I hate the idea of keeping things from Wanda and Peter, but at the same time, I don’t want to involve them if they don’t have to be.”

“I guess you’re right,” he says before adding, “I doubt they read the tabloids and society pages anyway.”

“No one below the Upper East Side does,” she confers. “Plus, it’d be nice to have a space where we don’t have to pretend, don’t you think?”

“Yeah,” he says, the corners of his lips lifting in a smile. “I think that’s a great idea.” As far as safe havens go, the Soldier & Spy is very much it for them both. It’s taken their blood, sweat, and tears to get their business to where it is today, but it’s the one place they’ve both found happiness in after a long list of unfulfilling careers. “So…” he begins after a beat. “Tony Stark, a father.”

Natasha smirks, but does not take her eyes away from the glass she’s working on. “I honestly thought I’d be more surprised,” she says. “But now that I’ve had some time to think about it, it’s not all that shocking.”

“Yeah?” he prods, turning to look her way.

“Yeah,” she confirms. “If you only knew Tony from what you read about him, then yeah, I guess you’d be floored.” She shrugs. “But we don’t, and we know that underneath all the snide comments and witty comebacks” – she pauses as they share a laugh – “he cares fiercely for the people he loves.” She turns to look at him, a little smile playing on her lips. “I think he’ll make an excellent father.”

“The best,” he says, mirroring her smile. “He and Pepper are one hell of a duo. That baby is going to be so lucky.”

“Speaking of babies, though,” she says, setting the towel on the counter before nodding towards the booth in the corner. “You might want to break that up before those two start making one on our freshly cleaned upholstery.”

He looks to where a young couple is practically draped over each other before chuckling. “Ah, to be young…”

“And out for some action,” she finishes, eliciting a laugh from him.

“Is that why you’re leaving early and making me serve as human contraception?” he asks, watching as she puts the towel down and smirking when she narrows his eyes at him. “What? It’s nothing to be ashamed of, Nat.”

“First of all, I’m not ashamed,” she says. “And second, do you really think I’d do that while” – she gestures between the two of them – “this is going on?”

“I wouldn’t either, by the way,” he interjects.

She rolls her eyes, as if that’s the most obvious fact in the world. “Besides…” she says after a beat. “Even if I did go out looking, it’s been too long since…” She cocks her head towards the booth once more before chuckling. “Anyway, I probably don’t even remember what to do.” Maybe it’s the blank stare he gives her or the silence that lingers between them for a millisecond too long, but either way, she scoffs. “You look surprised.”

“No,” he says quickly, even though that’s not completely the truth. “I mean, I obviously wouldn’t have dragged you into, you know… if I thought that you… But at the same time, I didn’t want to assume-”

“I’m here all the time,” she says almost incredulously, the corners of her lips quirking. “Where could I have possibly found the time to-”

“I don’t know!” he says, amusement thick in his voice as he scratches the back of his head. “Plus, it’s hardly any of my business.” He shrugs. “But hey, for what it’s worth, I heard it’s just like riding a bike.”

“You heard or you know?” she challenges, raising a brow.

This time, he’s the one that scoffs. “I’m here all the time!”

She just shrugs, earning yet another scoff from him. “Wait,” she says, a glint in her eye as she steps closer to him, leaning in as if to let him in on some dirty little secret. “So, you and Peggy… you two aren’t…”

“Natasha,” he says exasperatedly. “For Christ’s sake, not you, too.”

She puts her hands up in the air. “It’s hardly any of my business.”

He rolls his eyes. “No, okay,” he says, shaking his head. “No, it’s not like that with Peggy. It never has been. Okay?”

“Okay,” she says in concession, letting a moment pass before letting out a sigh. “So I guess we’re just a couple of lame bar owners, huh?”

“The lamest,” he agrees, tipping his chin upward.

She smiles. “Anyway, I should get going.”

“Since we’re in a sharing mood,” he says, watching as she picks up her purse and slings it over her shoulder. “Where are you going?”

“Haven’t you heard?” she asks, causing his brows to rise in intrigue. “We have to leave some mystery in the relationship to keep it hot and spicy.”

He scoffs for the nth time as she giggles and leans in to press a kiss to his cheek. “Get out of here,” he says, shaking his head when she only looks back to stick her tongue out at him. Masterlist

[immoralimmortals]

A Song With Ten Names

Chapter 61: Skeleton Appreciation Day

Chapter 1 ☆ Next chapter ☆ AO3 ☆ Featured song playlist

Chapter Summary: It’s a pretty normal thing for everyone, at one point or another, to feel kind of gross. But what if you feel like that all the time? And worse…what if it’s true? Two shinobi of the arts can only make a girl wonder if she’s really fine as she is after all.

Author's Note:

The song for this chapter is Skeleton Appreciation Day in Vestal, NY (Bones) by Will Wood and the Tapeworms.

CONTENT WARNING: poor body image and disassociation is addressed. The lyrics reference purging and symptoms of eating disorders. Thank you @gorefemmeart for beta reading!

The world falls upside down. Bloody water laps at Hidan’s side, half buried in the sand. Red drips from his mouth as he lays on his back, eyes looking up at her and half asleep.

“I want you,” he says. “Open me up, angel.”

With shaking hands, she obeys, putting her hands over his chest, right where his cloak finally converges. Clasp, clasp, clasp. The buttons are undone and she pulls his cloak apart. It’s like it’s his skin.

His organs are not whole. They look mashed and mangled, increasingly so the further south you go. It’s only now that she knows that a ways behind her on this beach, there’s a trail of stains leading to his lower body.

His heart moves, sluggish and as if the liquid inside it is congealed. In...out…

In...out...

Hidan’s hands shakily come up to hold her wrists. He’s cold. He’s cold like he’s been dead for hours already. Then they guide her to reach inside the flesh she’s frayed and stabbed. As she does, she begins to squeeze her eyes shut and scream.

She wakes up to hear own gasping breath once again, finding fake human fingers cupping her cheek. Even though his eyes are hooded, Sasori still stares so intensely, and as no words come from his lips, the woman is left to decide what he must feel.

Seconds pass...and shame washes over her. “S—...sorry,” she whispers. For being too loud. For almost blowing the lid on it all, let the others hear her and find their secret.

Somehow, some way, the woman is left feeling disgusting.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

To cut down on my silhouette, my favorite foods are smoke and hearts

My leftover frets forget stiletto-self vendettas

While my cracking backbone lacks but backs up my false starts

All nightmares start as dreams and I hear my subconscious screaming

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Takaraaa?" Deidara calls out, looking for her as his head pokes into rooms. So far all he’s gotten was echos. It isn’t like her to not be around at night— okay that’s just a lie and he knows it. The blonde exhales and folds his arms, resting shoulders so one touches the edge of a door and the other brushes a rather boring painting hung up a hundred-odd years ago. No, she’s a bit promiscuous, if not with body as he sometimes suspects then at least with her wandering spirit. There’s been days and nights he’s wished she was around, but no. Lady’s gone until the clock hits the same minute and hour hands as last he caught sight, and then she’s often so exhausted at that point that she just plops into bed— er. Couch.

He swears, though...he swears she’s heard her voice upstairs when it’s down the stairs she sleeps. That’s why he’s poking around in spaces that don’t belong to him. As always, he’s on the tightrope of risk: half of him is amused by the idea of finding her in someone else’s bed. Half of him is terrified that someone could go too far.

It has, after all, been a whole two days.

"Takara-chan...?" he calls again, knob pulled to peek into Kisame’s room. Nope, nothing. His sword is gone too; that means he’s off somewhere. Frankly, it gives Deidara a bit more relief. If the shark is gone, it confirms his suspicions that Itachi is. Fun times to be had taking advantage of his genjutsu with the girl, sure...but he still frowns at the thought of her and the Uchiha being left alone. Thankfully the signs right now lead to the contrary; if the girl is with Itachi, then she’d be with her overprotective blue beast too.

With a heavy, bored exhale, the door swings shut and reveals someone has walked up. It isn’t the person he’s looking for, but any distraction is a good distraction at this point. “Oh, Hidan,” he greets in a bit of a tired mumble at the man who abruptly appeared. It isn’t like the yu-nin to approach with his body before his voice. What’s more...his look is stern and there’s a sort of air about him that’s rather... stiff. But more than anything else, something stands out as soon as it’s noticed. "Hey, what happened to your neck, un?"

And here Deidara thought that it’d be impossible to make Hidan more agitated than his usual state. Indeed, to that he scowls, throwing a hand over his throat as if he could possibly hide it and then a glare to the blonde like daggers. "Oi! Since when did you care about my well being?!"

"Well, sheesh, I don't, I guess," Deidara retorts, finding him defensive. What a fascinating overreaction. Normally he’d tease the guy about getting so obviously amputated in some way— by the neck, no less, that’s a first!— but he has some information to prod about and isn’t in the mood to wait the twenty or so hours it takes for Hidan to finish pouting when you make fun of his mistakes. So instead, Deidara folds his arms again and cuts to the chase:

"Hey, have you seen Takara? She hasn't been in the living room lately.” A hum, and he brings a thumb up to hold his chin. “...Now that I think about it, Kisame and his partner have been gone a while, too." Hidan blinks several times, as if all this information has eluded him before somehow. “Are they out together, you think, or…?”

But all this accomplishes is setting off the zealot even more. "How the hell should I know?! What's with all the questions?!"

As he is so talented at doing, somehow Deidara can convey even with half of his face covered that one eyebrow is raised while the other stays low, perplexed. "Ohhhhkay,” he trails. This is going no where. Guy must be touchy about whatever mission went so badly. Maybe their leader will discuss it later on if it’s that major. Regardless, this conversation has managed to give the bomber a sense of defeat and finality. Time’s a-wastin’, and his danna doesn’t like to be kept waiting.

“Well. I'm going to town to take care of errands for my man Sasori. Let me know if you need anything, yeah?" Hidan snorts in response, a grimace of disdain pushing into his cheeks.

"Yeah, sure, I'd like a foot up your ass."

Deidara sighs again, choosing to slide by and let it go. The performer isn’t even here to react to Hidan’s outburst anyway; no reason to keep poking the bear if there’s no one else to enjoy doing it with you. "Alright, Hidan."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Lumps in throats and petticoats, your baby teeth would pray for you

A selfish book is always open

And some of the best liars only want the truth

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Ughhhhhaaaaaaaa…”

Deidara cranes his head up as he once again exhales with as much exaggeration as he can in an attempt to, perhaps, release this horrible tension in his throat. A black-lined eye peers and he grumbles, as if the sky was supposed to actually reply to his pleas.

"This would be a lot more fun with Takara..." he mumbles under his breath, idly watching the people walk by as the trail finally becomes paved as it lingers towards the outskirts of town. As he lacks an actual person to talk to, he makes due continuing to narrate for himself, regardless of glances. Thankfully he’s normal enough looking compared to the other Akatsuki that he can get away with it in public. An especially sharp breeze wafts by, bringing a clear sign of changing seasons in both shift of temperature and in smell.

"The snow is melting…” the man says wistfully, glancing down to some solidifying ice; at one point it was soft and pushed aside, but as it liquefies, what remains solid also becomes harder. His stare raises as a child’s foot passes by the overgrown ice cube, Deidara’s gaze following as a boy holds his mother’s hand. “Hm,” he muses, a small smirk on his face as he notes what he sees. Little fingers are reddened at the tips, a tell of how they had been stuck into the crunchy snow mere moments ago. “Not even wearing gloves...” A blink and then a purposeful shift back to what he was thinking before. “The unfreezing of plants and mud...it puts quite a distinct scent in the air..."

Splash goes the child, causing a small exclamation of worry from the woman who will have to launder those sopping wet socks later. Deidara wonders, briefly, if he ever got to live a life like that. If he did, he doesn’t remember.

No matter. He gets to be free now.

…

Recenter. With a sigh and a stop of his feet...he recenters. The next step in meditation is to come up with a better thing to think about, and his voice would be soft even if he was all alone with no one else to hear him:

"I wonder if she likes perfumes, un..."

And he unconsciously begins to strum his thumb gently over the middle of his palm, trying to recreate the feeling she gave when he inspected his hands. Most found them grotesque...and he didn’t care. He didn’t care, that is...until someone announced her disagreement. The woman called them nice. Such a simple word...normally it’d insult him with how barren the word “nice” often is of meaning . But context changes everything . Context made it mean so much. His hands, mouths and all... are nice. There should be a way to make her marvel like that again, so satisfying and curious…

“...Mm?”

A flicker to the right seems to be his answer. The man trails off from the center of the road and drifts towards the pastels flicked in the passing wind. Upon closer inspection however, he frowns. The flowers are fake and the inside of the windows show dark, empty displays. The flower shop is still closed as it is not yet spring. Another sigh and the blonde feels his shoulders slump.

"That’s a shame. The girl does love flowers." No longer able to push back the task at hand, painted fingers reach into his pocket and unfold a paper with a shake of the wrist. Dismay washes over him as he peers over the puppetmaster’s immaculate handwriting. "And I was banking on a florist for a good chunk of these, too…!" he laments. The blue eye squints at a few inked characters in particular. "Who asks for fresh mint in the middle of winter...? And what the hell is paracress …?"

His hand goes down to his side and he takes a big breath of this strong cologne melting snow and warming mud that mother nature has chosen to wear. Well, it’s not the middle of winter anymore, but you know. Middle enough for even the florist to stay hibernated. Recenter...recenter.

In. Out. And he’s relaxed as usual again.

This place would sure be fun to blow up, he thinks as casually as one might about going on vacation.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

All love starts as a scheme, so wake me up, I'm tired of sleeping

They say that beauty's just skin-deep

So obviously, please show me your bones

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The knocking of the front door is distant but clear. Prior to Sasori moving in the performer had stayed most every night up here in the attic, but she never noticed before how right he was about everyone being so noisy. Maybe the chitter of mice had covered it up from her ears.

The woman swallows as she attempts again to not think too much about where all the mice must have gone.

Instead, she tilts up her head. Sasori is gone; impatient fellow he is, he went ahead with some of the procurement himself. She had asked him, as he opened the hatch of the roof, if she’d be fine all alone. With just a glance back, he gave the answer that as long as she kept silent, all would be well.

The color of the sky has changed since then, and worry sits at the bottom of her hungry stomach.

Tired hands are grateful for the layers between them and her flesh. But even with the addition of a nightgown, a dress and blankets don’t entirely allow her to forget the body underneath. Silence, as it often has before, allows space for thoughts to grow. The rumble of activity downstairs is gone, and the overwhelming cruelness inside quiet walls gets to stretch out its lengthy thorns.

Did Sasori always...want this? To offer her what he did yesterday, that is. She didn’t imagine it; they discussed the subject too long for even the heavy weight champion of anxiety that is her mind to dismiss his offers as fantasy. He really did request to...change her. Did he ask anyone else before? Surely not on mere whim, given his isolated ways.

Which begs the question...is she especially wrong?

The tips of her fingers begin to feel their dent into a stomach’s fat.

“Sasori?”

The woman jumps up far too late. Threads of hair shine an unmistakable streak of gold as outside light lands upon a head already well above the attic entrance in the floor. Shit. Shit! Frantically, she tugs on the cloth over her thigh—

"Whats all this for? If I didn't know any better I'd say you're working on another p—" And then it’s too late. He sees her. The bomber blinks and tilts his head at the creature huddled in the corner of the otherwise still attic. "Oh. This is a surprise. What are you doing here?”

...Calm! He sounds calm! Jashin above, maybe she didn’t fuck up after all! Still, a cat’s caught her tongue as she finds a way to wiggle her way through this, unfortunately allowing time for Deidara to unsling the pack of groceries from his shoulders and walk up.

She gets to see nice and up close as his grateful smile immediately drops.

“What happened to you?”

A shaky gasp and her gaze rocks down. This whole time she hasn’t held the cloth over the wound. It’s been past it. No. No, she’s overthinking. Salvage this; don’t freak out yet.

In a way she thinks is subtle, she gradually begins to smooth the edge of her skirt over her thigh again— properly this time— attempting to distract with her words and a stare begging him to look at her face instead.

“Just wanted to be with Sasori,” she says.

“Oh, sure,” she gets in reply, though as soon as her heart rises in relief is when it gets dropped from the top of a roller coaster. “If that’s true then I’m the hokage of Konoha.”

The tone alone is enough to figure she’s not fooling anyone.

“Deidara—” she stammers, and she oh so terribly begins to chew the inside of her mouth as the artist hates. “It’s that—”

“Brat.”

A rumble towards the low ceiling and thick evening light streams through the hatch. One artist now enters from above now that one has arrived from below. The redhead easily steadies his feet before throwing the latch shut, frowning. “I told you to leave my supplies at the window.”

Deidara smirks to that. “And I thought you would be here to come take it.”

“I never said such a thing.”

“And you’d let the mint die in this weather, sitting out in the bitter wind for you?”

A masterful roll of the eyes rotate in the puppet’s skull, and the performer is increasingly grateful for the distraction—

“So. You healing the lady up using all this?”

...Never mind, he hasn’t forgotten. All the same, despite the risks, Sasori seems to be little more than annoyed. “What is it to you?”

And likewise, it becomes clearer with each turn of phrase that Deidara too doesn’t have quite the perspective the woman expected. If nothing else, the blonde is simply...insulted. “You guys had a party…” he pouts, “...And you didn’t invite ME!”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

They say that beauty's just skin-deep

So Ana stands and rends the rancid meat from her bones

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It’s so weird that he doesn’t seem to...care. He never asked how it happened. He just accepted she was injured and needed Sasori’s help...and that’s it.

It really does just seem like that’s all to it.

...Huh.

Half of her is so relieved, but the other half wonders if she should be insulted. It’s a rather lackluster response, after all. Maybe he’s desensitized to this sort of thing, to people getting hurt, so the fact it’s her doesn’t really change much. Maybe it’s just expected as he’s known for a while that she hurts herself all the time. But still, the bites in the inside of her cheek and the redness at her fingertips tends to be more...subtle than a deep puncture that’s been infected.

He looks at her injury, now with Kakuzu's stitching removed. The woman can see his face scrunch up as Deidara bends at the knee to get a closer angle. "Ough…!” he shivers, and it manages to reverberate straight to her bones. “That's gross. No wonder you were limping, un." 

Perhaps her heart has been too well prepped to anticipate stress, as the worry of getting the zombies in trouble so easily shifts to worries of another kind. For one...Deidara had noticed her leg before today. That means others could, too, without her pointing it out. For another…

The way everyone has been talking about her body lately makes her feel like...an archaeology project. The two that dedicate their lives to aesthetic tastes, of course, take such perfect attention to uncovering everything about the performer, dust their brush over the build up of dirty lies and dusty old pains until they find what she tries so desperately to hide— at least as much as she can hide in plain sight.

As such, even though in a manner of speaking she is safe, these new troubles don’t really sit well with her.

"Sasori's...you’re right,” she admits, staring at the gooey pus at the edges of her cut. “Being human is gross."

At the sound of his name, Sasori finally turns from the worktable where a mortar and pestle muttle the aromatic ingredients together; his gaze narrows, so very judging, but what else is new? "And yet you refuse my offer."

"Hey, don't count me out just yet.” Palms raise to face the eternal man, shaking side to side to indicate he pause that thought— at least for now. But just as soon, her shoulders slump and it’s like she’s shrinking on the spot. “I just mean that...well..."

…

“Well…?” Deidara prods. He’s always been so eager to lead her on. Is it because he likes to hear her talk, or is it that it’s funny to see her dig her own grave? Either way, a tired girl opts to tell the truth. She hasn’t slept long enough these few days to muster anything less.

"You're both so... pretty.”

There.

She said it.

But what she won’t say out loud is instead read between the lines: that she’s not.

“And…” she swallows, nails already agitating one another’s edges in anxiety. “...I've never been good at taking care of myself." Her self harm scars are evidence enough, if not the moments of autumn where she was so sick she neglected to bathe herself or eat.

But even when it’s clear as day, Deidara acts like he just doesn’t get it.

"Why's that?" the younger fellow pokes again. It doesn’t elude her how the scorpion steps ever closer, looming over his subject, and how the iwa-nin leans further into her space. Watching, observing. Every twitch of her nervous lips, every fidget of her restless leg... There’s just no escaping their eyes, huh…?

"I. I guess—” the stranger gives up, “—It doesn't feel like I…” And nearly silent, desperately avoiding their attempts to meet her gaze. “...deserve it."

"Like how you don't deserve your own room."

Strange how full circle they've come, a woman in a comfy nightgown back in her attic, upon a throne of pillows and blankets yet again. She shrinks into the fabrics as best as she can. Maybe she can disappear that way. "Yeah."

A shade of pink glistens as Deidara pulls something out of his pocket. Just as he had remembered, the woman is oh so easy to distract. She perks up in an instant.

"Whats that...?" 

"A treat,” he grins, and with a flick there’s a thin, white stick reaching over her lap, a gorgeous glassy shape attached to the top. “For you."

But no matter the flair, the presentation of a lollipop is really the last thing she needs right now. She can imagine it: the digestion, the dissipation of excess energy laid over her organs in a plush, jelly-like state. Just another minuscule addition to a bigger problem. A sickly sort of smile comes on her face, far too sorrowful for declining something so small. "No thank you."

"Oh?" the sculptor blinks. "But I heard you loved candy." When the hell did she give that information up—?

Wait.

Cotton candy.

She told Itachi and Kisame her favorite food is a candy.

As memories are thrust into her mind, the object ahead is not moved. It stares her in the face, reflects it back up for her to see as a warped, sugary mirror. Eyes flicker over the thing, even as her stomach is hungry and her tongue has been so bored. It's too much for her. She's already taking up enough space as it is; can't afford to take up even more.

"Yeah” she agrees eventually. And then added in a shameful hush: “Too much."

A pondering hum before the interrogator continues. "...Toothache?"

…

…

"Yeah," she lies, trying not to remember the days where she considered carving the fat off like an Easter ham. If only she did have rotting teeth. Maybe then she wouldn't eat enough calories for someone twice her size. But something wakes her up...:

"Doll."

And she gasps.

This is the first time Sasori has called her this. What does that mean?! As she predictably raises her chin to investigate him— look for any signal of feeling or tone— she somehow finds both nothing and something. Even though his expression is the same, she swears it’s somehow more...serious. The puppeteer allows a long stare before giving his command: "Have the candy."

...What? She looks back and forth between the two artists, but no, they both still seem so stern about this, like trying to feed a pill to a sick dog. Several blinks and a furrow of her brow begin to ache the muscles of her temple. “Wh... why?”

"Because if you aren't giving up your body, you might as well make use of it."

"What do you mean?" 

Sasori exhales a breath he doesn’t need, impatient that the gears of her mind have been greased by his wisdom and yet they will not turn. In his contrary way, the man who likes things fast and exciting is somehow the best choice to take the reigns and ease the traveler towards the right direction:

"He means…” Ever the performer himself, he rotates the sweet sin between his fingers, not even having to look. He does, of course, much prefer to watch the woman’s eyes follow the twirl of his wrist. “...You don't have to feel bad for liking candy, un."

The way she recoils is like you accused her of killing someone. "I— I don't!"

"You're a horrible liar,” Deidara coos.

"Agreed,” Sasori says.

"I...I just." So much emphasis on her body. Is it even her own? To harm it, restrict it, starve it...means to control it. And to control it she’s certainly tried.

"Is this why it's so hard to feed you, too?"

At that, the performer squints at Deidara as incredulously as you might at someone telling you there’s an extra arm growing out of your head. "...What the heck are you talking about?" But her heart is racing. Finally she's been caught red handed. Has been a long time, but social convention didn't allow intervention until she started to discuss things. 

It’s just not something she even thought was a problem. At least not in the way they think it is. How she defines a solution to her laziness and gluttony is, in fact, their problem.

"You don't always eat, un," the sculptor explains. She feels the thickest blanket give a dull thump as he drops to his knees over her lap and balances with fingertips on either side of her fat, ugly, mutilated thigh. "I always figured that's why Hidan likes bringing you snacks."

She gets bashful, head tilting down. "No," she shakes her head insistantly. "He just...found me hungry the first time we met. But it's not true anymore." She can feel the double chin forming the more she tries to turn away; it just makes her bury down into the folds of fabric even more. If she does it enough, folds of another kind maybe can go away. "I'm just fat," the woman puts innocuously. "That's all."

"Who cares?!"

Her head snaps up in an instant. What she sees isn't pity or even reluctant agreement— not like others she's dared open up to have given her before. Deidara is smiling.

"You're right," he seems to cheer; and yet he gets even closer, leans his nose right into her face and nearly touches his powerful form onto her useless one. "Bodies are gross! All of it is. Fat is just part of it. OW!"

He gets a smack on the back of the head. "Hardly," Sasori corrects. "Fat is merely the result of a biological process. However unsightly you personally deem it to be, it is a system the human body has developed as an alternative to wasting resources. It is better than starving. Trust me on that, girl. That was one of the factors that led me to giving up altogether."

"...Getting fat?" the woman guesses, as delicate as this strange, abrasive situation allows.

"No,” the suna-nin corrects. “Starving. I could not maintain my body without hating the process of eating."

Deidara gives Sasori the incredulous, somewhat distressed look that the performer had for him mere seconds ago. "You guys really need healthier relationships with yourselves, un."

"I don't,” the scorpion objects, leveling his stare on the blonde after checking nails that no longer grow. “I fixed it."

"If you say so."

Wooden eyes narrow. "I do."

As eerily hilarious as this exchange would be to continue, the woman can’t help but blink up at Sasori. "You..." she pieces together aloud, "...Had trouble eating, too." 

As if weary of the conversation, the normally secretive man sighs but still, ultimately, abides to her clear curiosity. The redhead probably wouldn’t for anyone else but her. "Of course. It's a chore and I didn't enjoy it. And as a shinobi, the standards of your figure are even worse than it would be otherwise. Any inkling of extra fat gets pinched and mocked and deserving of extra hours of training as punishment. I’d accept the critique of thin arms and visible ribs any day over that."

"I heard Konoha has a clan that maintains above a certain weight threshold in order to carry out their jutsu,” the blonde adds. “But they’re the butt of the joke for it all the time."

"Barbarians," the puppet mutters back.

No way. Is she hearing things right...? There’s no...problem? She isn’t too weak? Too helpless...?! Too...—

…

…

"So…” she ventures, scared as if requesting clarity could make them change their minds. “I'm...not too... fat?" The patient quickly gets a “tsk” of annoyance from her impromptu doctor.

"Of course not," Sasori says, a sharpness whipped on the tail end of his words. "In fact...the one thing I can agree on about not being a puppet is that any plushness would be gone." And unbelievably, he elaborates: "That's a key feature of your form, you know."

"You wouldn't be soft to the touch anymore, un." And unbelievably, something like love drips like honey from his lips: "We don't get enough of that in our line of work, darling." A tilt of the head, and there's a better view of Sasori's face where the ponytail used to be. The scorpion, too...somehow seems to carry more than pity in the way those delicate dull eyes stare hallowly back. And then...Sasori smirks.

"Would you really be so cruel as to take that away?" So, so evilly coy...! He even shows some of his perfectly carved pearly teeth behind those full lips. "You wouldn't do that to us...would you?"

And for a moment, she reflects on all the times her dad told her to diet, to eat salads or even not eat at all...and she knows perhaps for the first time not only with her mind but also her heart that he was wrong. Deidara offers her the lollipop one more time, and though it's with the exact same flair of the wrist as before...it is taken. Dyed glass is put into her mouth and a tender girl savors the rush of juicy peach sugar on her tongue. 

"Good, right?" one gorgeous man asks, and he gets a gorgeous smile in reply.

Maybe she doesn't need to be fixed after all. At least as long as they want her this way.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Bones, bones, bones, let me see your bones

Well I don't wanna know if the feeling follows home

Bones, bones, bones

Hell, we're all alone

If I come home, baby, will you show your bones?

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

[foxes-that-run]

Daylight - Lover

Daylight was originally the title track for Lover, a concept Album for the 13th year of Taylor's career, when she turned 30. It was first long planned and mentioned in the liner notes of Red.

The song has many references to Red and was possibly started by 2012, while Taylor was still dating Harry, but finished for the album release. Harry references the song in the opening of Fine Line in Golden, Fine Line's 'Daylight' is track 5 and released it on Taylors 30th Birthday.

Lyrics

My love was as cruel as the cities I lived in Everyone looked worse in the light There are so many lines that I've crossed unforgiven I'll tell you the truth, but never goodbye

Taylor is reflecting on the journey to through relationships to this point and choices she regrets. Matured from her view in Red where the other person wronged her Taylor now acknowledged everyone looks worse in the light.

She promises to be truthful but never say goodbye to her muse. This could read as telling all her secrets, or it could also be talking about being in an open relationship. Like So it Goes Taylor won't let him go.

I don't wanna look at anything else now that I saw you I don't wanna think of anything else now that I thought of you I've been sleeping so long in a 20-year dark night And now I see daylight, I only see daylight

The chorus repeats the theme of the album, finding the one true love. Sleeping in a 20-year dark night is interesting and there are a few possibilities:

Knowing the song was part of a long term album plan from when she was 22 it may refer to her age when the song was started

20 is a Haylor theme

Luck of the draw only draws the unlucky And so I became the butt of the joke I wounded the good and I trusted the wicked Clearing the air, I breathed in the smoke Maybe you ran with the wolves and refused to settle down Maybe I've stormed out of every single room in this town Threw out our cloaks and our daggers because it's morning now It's brighter now, now

Taylor talks more about her journey to find this love. She references Reputation where she was unlucky, the world turned on her. Including clearing the air (posting about the Kanye phone call) she breathed in the smoke.

My interpretation of wounding the good, trusting the wicked is wounding Harry by trusting Calvin Harris. This is played out in Exile/Woman. Did Something Bad is similar within the Rep period.

Maybe you ran with the wolves and refused to settle down refers to Harry's time with One Direction and womaniser image in that time. One direction also have a song called Wolves where wolves come out at night and come for your heart. Meet me in the Hallway has a similar lyric "I walked the streets all day / Running with the thieves"

Finally Taylor talks of storming out of every room, referring to drama she has had in the industry. There is a similar lyric to throwing out cloaks and daggers to live in peace in Long Story Short "At the golden gates they once held the keys to / When I dropped my sword / I threw it in the bushes and knocked on your door"

And I can still see it all (In my mind) All of you, all of me (Intertwined) I once believed love would be (Black and white) But it's golden (Golden) And I can still see it all (In my head) Back and forth from New York (Sneaking in your bed) I once believed love would be (Burning red) But it's golden Like daylight, like daylight Like daylight, daylight

Taylor sings about being tangled in Wildest dreams, but here intertwined speaks to a longer time.

The next lyrics of love being B&W, Golden are interesting, in out of the woods and Illicit Affairs has described her love with Harry as in screaming colour/colours she can't see with anyone else. But here it is golden, Golden is the opening track to Fine Line Harry released 3 months later on Taylor’s 30th, referencing this line.

Back and forth from NY and sneaking in your bed, is a reference to Harry, they did go back and forth physically with excessive travel from them both and in terms of a relationship. They did sneak to see each other during the 1989 era after breaking up and possibly after.

This verse is a reference to red, Harry was the muse for several Red tracks including the closing Begin Again. This verse also references another Red song Starlight with 'Like daylight' vs "Like we're made of starlight". Starlight is about this photo of Ethel and Bobby Kennedy, another. While CK did fall between TS dating HS, Taylor is referencing the romantaised lasting love here, this reference is what indicates this song may have been started long ago.

Like daylight It's golden like daylight You gotta step into the daylight and let it go Just let it go, let it go

This lyric is about letting go of fears, grudges and fights and moving on. This lyric and Lover/Fine Line being released around Taylors 30th birthday make me think she intended to make changes in how her (possibly open) relationship was viewed, but we know what happened after with re-records and the pandemic. The Folklore album lets us know her thoughts were still with this calamitous love.

I wanna be defined by the things that I love Not the things I hate Not the things that I'm afraid of, I'm afraid of Not the things that haunt me in the middle of the night I, I just think that You are what you love

This voice-style outtro is the thesis of the album and song, especially the reset after Reputation. The last song on the album, indicating where the story goes next.

[mediamonarchy]

https://mediamonarchy.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/05/20240506_MorningMonarchy.mp3 Download MP3 The Seinfeld Chronicles, PCU and Trumpster’s billions + this day in history w/pointless, stupid and evil lockdowns and our song of the day by American Thought Criminals on your #MorningMonarchy for May 6, 2024. Notes/Links: Masticophis flagellum https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Masticophis_flagellum Image: You’re going to feel pretty stupid if it turns out you’re not a monarch. https://mediamonarchy.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/if_youre_not_a_monarch.jpg ‘Sopranos’ star doubles down against pro-Biden celebs: ‘The far left own Hollywood’ https://www.msn.com/en-us/entertainment/entertainment-celebrity/sopranos-star-doubles-down-against-pro-biden-celebs-the-far-left-own-hollywood/ar-AA1o879I Video: ‘Sopranos’ actress claims celebrities are against Biden but ‘petrified’ to speak out (Audio) https://www.youtube.com/shorts/zILfl4wai9E Inside the failed White House coup to oust Biden press secretary Karine Jean-Pierre https://nypost.com/2024/04/26/us-news/inside-the-failed-white-house-coup-against-press-secretary-karine-jean-pierre/ Jerry Seinfeld Says TV Comedy Is Being Killed By the ‘Extreme Left and P.C. Crap and People Worrying So Much About Offending Other People’ https://www.msn.com/en-us/tv/news/jerry-seinfeld-says-tv-comedy-is-being-killed-by-the-extreme-left-and-p-c-crap-and-people-worrying-so-much-about-offending-other-people/ar-AA1nSc5z Video: Jerry Seinfeld Says Extreme Left Is RUINING TV Comedy; Calls It ‘PC CRAP’ (Audio) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7g8yYg8eh-g Image: Fuck America, Protect Israel https://mediamonarchy.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/fuck_america_protect_israel.png New York Times Failures in Israel Coverage Point to Larger Bias: Experts; The newspaper’s long record of bias in its coverage of Israel and Jewish issues has worsened with an influx of young ‘woke’ reporters, experts say. https://www.theepochtimes.com/article/new-york-times-failures-in-israel-coverage-point-to-larger-bias-experts-5619646 Katherine Maher’s Color Revolution; It appears that new NPR boss Katherine Maher has been around, around color revolutions all over the world while working for intelligence linked NGO National Democratic Institute. https://www.city-journal.org/article/katherine-mahers-color-revolution South American state to sever ties with Israel; Colombia will cut diplomatic relations with Israel over its “genocidal” leadership, President Gustavo Petro has vowed https://www.rt.com/news/596858-south-american-promises-to Shai Davidai comes from a long line of assholes. A short piece on his family’s ties to the weapons industry (and other shady dealings). https://vxtwitter.com/joshua__frank/status/1782499910509789365 Columbia Professor Shai Davidai’s Family Tied to Weapons Manufacturing https://www.counterpunch.org/2024/04/22/columbia-universitys-shai-davidais-family-tied-to-weapons-manufacturing/ Images show US military building floating pier off Gaza. Pentagon says it will cost $320 million https://www.cnn.com/2024/04/30/middleeast/gaza-floating-pier-images-aid-intl-hnk/index.html Bill Proposes “Antisemitism Monitors” for Colleges that Would Limit First Amendment; Shocker: Rep. Ritchie (D-NY, who co-authored the bill) is swimming in AIPAC money, $372,994 in this election cycle. https://needtoknow.news/2024/05/bill-proposes-antisemitism-monitors-for-colleges-that-would-limit-first-amendment/ REVEALED: George Soros is PAYING left-wing activists to head up camp outs at colleges across America – as huge wads of cash they’re getting are shared https://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-13353941/George-soros-paying-left-wing-activists-college-protest-camp.html George Soros is paying student radicals who are fueling nationwide explosion of Israel-hating protests https://nypost.com/2024/04/26/us-news/george-soros-maoist-fund-columbias-anti-israel-tent-city/ A GWU! (Student) Guide to Avoiding Gaza Protests https://getwokeup.com/a-gwu-student-guide-to-avoiding-...

[myerithestagbeetle]

Deserts I like and whatever idk

Lately I've been eating a lot of sweets, 'cause I'm in a sweet mood <3 I kind of swing from wanting something salty and savory to wanting something sweet every couple of months, and recently I've tried like.. one new dessert and now I want to yap about all the desserts I like. If you want to expand your horizons on sweets, stick around :3 I'll be presenting a tier list I made and breaking each selection down.. Hopefully I won't have to break this post up into 2 parts.

Whats going on here, you might ask? Well, I'll explain my feelings on the tiers really quickly. S - My all time favorite desserts. A - These desserts are great! B - I think these desserts are pretty good! C - These desserts are okay. D - I really dislike these desserts / not really of my preference :( I think I should specify that some of the desserts in tier D I would still eat on a rare occasion because I don't think they're that bad. However, only specific ones; which I'll discuss near the end. Anyways, let me get into why I like some of these desserts and why I don't like some of them. I'll include some extras that weren't on the tier list, but would've included if given the chance to.

Tier S: The Best of The Best

Black Forest Cake

This cake in specific is my favorite cake of all time. I always get it for my birthdays because its everything I love in a cake. Its soft and creamy, it has delicious cherry filling within, and best of all it is literally just pure dark chocolate. The chocolate cake of all time. I think the best quality about this cake is how amazingly complementary the cherry filling is to the chocolate. The two flavors just go so well together, its like a match made in heaven. Really, if you haven't had this cake yet I suggest you try it one day... if you can afford it. My friends have said its a pretty pricey cake but, oh well, its definitely worth it.

If you're a NERD, you might've went "oh my scallops, is that the cake from Portal?!?!?" yes, my dear friend, this cake appears in Portal. In fact, the image I pulled this cake from is specifically from the cafe that inspired the developers to put the cake in Portal. The cafe in question is called Regent Bakery and Cafe, an Asian bakery located in Redmond, Washington. If you look on their website, they even boast about how they've inspired Portal too.

(Source: http://www.regentbakeryandcafe.com/capitol_hill)

Admittedly, I only knew about this cake because of Portal, and as a certified Portal enthusiast I wanted to try it myself. Safe to say I don't regret it, and honestly this fun fact alone makes me have a little pride in saying that this is my favorite cake of all time. Alright, enough glazing the silly Portal cake, we're getting into the next dessert. Baklava

Baklava is so insanely good, like seriously it's simply the best. It's nutty, soft yet crunchy, and just the perfect amount of sweet that'll keep you wanting more. It's been a while since I've had baklava, I think I first had some at a local Turkish restaurant... or maybe at a party once? Not sure, either way its been stuck in my head for a while now, I love this damn dessert so much. S tier has a bit of a bias in general, cause like it's mostly just Middle Eastern desserts. There's some I didn't include cause I forgot the names or it wasn't on there, but I've definitely had a few. I hope one day I'll get to try some more in the future, there's a local bakery that sells loads of those.

Qatayef

I also had this one at a party too, it was the BEST. like, the nuts and the sweetness .. OUGH.. I hold this one to just as much praise as the other one I discussed. I remember when I first had this at the party I went, it was a blessing to my mouth. I had to resist from clearing the entire plate full of these, especially when they had this syrup next to it that you could put on it as a condiment. Amazing dessert, 10/10

Tier A: LOVE These Desserts

NY Cheesecake

I FUCKING LOVE CHEESCAEK 🤤Absolutely delicious dessert.. its so fluffy and sweet, but sometimes I take way too big bites out of it and it kind of hurts going down the throat. It's kind of a skill issue on my part though. 9/10 dessert ❤︎

Brigadeiros

This Brazilian treat is so amazing, and its no wonder since I really love chocolate. I chose to make these for a school project regarding a country I chose, which was Brazil, and I served them to the whole class. Everyone loved them, and so did I, they're just so tasty. Definitely try some out if you can, they aren't too difficult to make either.

Chocolate Chip Cookies

What can I say? It's chocolate chip cookies! You can never go wrong with them... unless you buy the cheap, crunchy stale ones at a supermarket (looking at you Chips Ahoy.) I hate it when they're too crunchy, but I love it when they're nice and soft and warm. Bonus points if dipped in milk.

Pumpkin Pie

This is quite literally the only thing I look forward to when it comes to Thanksgiving... um, I guess smoked honey ham too. I understand the significance of Thanksgiving in America and its ties to history but like... its not super exciting when you can't celebrate with many family members, which is my case. This makes up for it though. its just so delicious. My favorite part is the crust, its a little soft and tastes like cinnamon.

Lava Cake

THIS DESSERT IS SO AMAZING!! It's chocolatey, its gooey, and delightfully hot. Well, um, I like it better when it's just warm, I'm quite sensitive to heat. You get the point though, it's a great dessert. I think the heat brings out the richness in the chocolate flavor, and the ice cream also spices things up. I used to have these a lot at Chili's, and I always loved them.

Okay, unfortunately I'll have to split this post up into possibly three parts... Its gonna be super long. Stay tuned :3

[n2qfd]

@swradiogram

9265 khz at 2330z as received in Southern Tier NY

I'm Kim Andrew Elliott in Arlington, Virginia USA.

Here is the lineup for today's program, in MFSK modes as noted:

1:44 MFSK32: Program preview (now) 2:58 MFSK32: Americans surveyed on PBS/NPR funding* 7:05 MFSK64: Does closing VOA leave void for Russia and China? 12:07 MFSK64: This week's images* 28:19 MFSK32: Closing announcements

with image(s)

Please send reception reports to radiogram@verizon.net

And visit http://swradiogram.net

We're on Bluesky now: SWRadiogram.bsky.social

And X/Twitter: @SWRadiogram

From The Hill:

Plurality of Americans say NPR, PBS should be federally funded: Survey

by Dominick Mastrangelo March 26, 2025

A plurality of surveyed Americans say the federal government should continue to fund public broadcasters, according to a new survey.

New polling from Pew found 24 percent of surveyed Americans say the U.S. government should not continue to send taxpayer dollars to NPR and PBS, while a larger slice, 43 percent, say federal funding levels to those outlets should stay the same.

The same survey found 32 percent of Democrats say they regularly get news from NPR, compared with 9 percent of Republicans. Thirty-one percent of Democrats regularly get news from PBS, compared with 11 percent of Republicans who said the same.

The survey’s results were published the same day the heads of NPR and PBS, Katherine Maher and Paula Kerger, respectively, were grilled by lawmakers on Capitol Hill over their outlets’ editorial practices and funding models.

Maher told lawmakers her organization took in just more than $11 million in federal funding last year.

President Trump and Republicans have accused public broadcasters of bias against them, and some have called for the Corporation for Public Broadcasting to be shut down completely.

The Pew survey was conducted March 10 through 16 among 9,400 respondents.

https://thehill.com/homenews/media/5215518-more-americans-say-npr-pbs-should-be-federally-funded-than-not-survey/



Shortwave Radiogram now changes to MFSK64 … Before RSID: <<2025-03-27T23:37Z MFSK-32 @ 9265000+1500>>

This is Shortwave Radiogram in MFSK64

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From The Conversation via RNZ:

Does the end of Voice of America leave a void for China and Russia to fill?

By Valerie A. Cooper 25 March 2025

Of all the contradictions and ironies of Donald Trump's second presidency so far, perhaps the most surprising has been his shutting down the US Agency for Global Media (USAGM) for being "radical propaganda".

Critics have long accused the agency - and its affiliated outlets such as Voice of America, Radio Free Europe and Radio Free Asia - of being a propaganda arm of US foreign policy.

But to the current president, the USAGM has become a promoter of anti-American ideas and agendas - including allegedly suppressing stories critical of Iran, sympathetically covering the issue of "white privilege" and bowing to pressure from China.

Propaganda is clearly in the eye of the beholder. The Moscow Times reported Russian officials were elated by the demise of the "purely propagandistic" outlets, while China's Global Times celebrated the closure of a "lie factory".

Meanwhile, the European Commission hailed USAGM outlets as a "beacon of truth, democracy and hope". All of which might have left the average person understandably confused: Voice of America? Wasn't that the US propaganda outlet from World War II?

Well, yes. But the reality of USAGM and similar state-sponsored global media outlets is more complex - as are the implications of the US agency's demise.

Public service or state propaganda?

The USAGM is one of several international public service media outlets based in western democracies. Others include Australia's ABC International, the BBC World Service, CBC/Radio-Canada, France Médias Monde, NHK-World Japan, Deutsche Welle in Germany and SRG SSR in Switzerland.

Part of the Public Media Alliance, they are similar to national public service media, largely funded by taxpayers to uphold democratic ideals of universal access to news and information.

Unlike national public media, however, they might not be consumed

or even known - by domestic audiences. Rather, they typically provide news to countries without reliable independent media due to censorship or state-run media monopolies.

The USAGM, for example, provides news in 63 languages to more than 100 countries. It has been credited with bringing attention to issues such as protests against COVID-19 lockdowns in China and women's struggles for equal rights in Iran.

On the other hand, the independence of USAGM outlets has been questioned often, particularly as they are required to share government-mandated editorials.

Voice of America has been criticised for its focus on perceived ideological adversaries such as Russia and Iran. And my own research has found it perpetuates stereotypes and the neglect of African nations in its news coverage.

Leaving a void

Ultimately, these global media outlets wouldn't exist if there weren't benefits for the governments that fund them. Sharing stories and perspectives that support or promote certain values and policies is an effective form of "public diplomacy".

Yet these international media outlets differ from state-controlled media models because of editorial systems that protect them from government interference.

The Voice of America's "firewall", for instance, "prohibits interference by any US government official in the objective, independent reporting of news". Such protections allow journalists to report on their own governments more objectively.

In contrast, outlets such as China Media Group (CMG), RT from Russia, and PressTV from Iran also reach a global audience in a range of languages. But they do this through direct government involvement. CMG subsidiary CCTV+, for example, states it is "committed to telling China's story to the rest of the world".

Though RT states it is an autonomous media outlet, research has found the Russian government oversees hiring editors, imposing narrative angles, and rejecting stories.

Other voices get louder

The biggest concern for western democracies is that these other state-run media outlets will fill the void the USAGM leaves behind - including in the Pacific.

Russia, China and Iran are increasing funding for their state-run news outlets, with China having spent more than US$6.6 billion over 13 years on its global media outlets. China Media Group is already one of the largest media conglomerates in the world, providing news content to more than 130 countries in 44 languages.

And China has already filled media gaps left by western democracies: after the ABC stopped broadcasting Radio Australia in the Pacific, China Radio International took over its frequencies.

Worryingly, the differences between outlets such as Voice of America and more overtly state-run outlets aren't immediately clear to audiences, as government ownership isn't advertised.

An Australian senator even had to apologise recently after speaking with PressTV, saying she didn't know the news outlet was affiliated with the Iranian government, or that it had been sanctioned in Australia.

Switched off

Trump's move to dismantle the USAGM doesn't come as a complete surprise, however. As the authors of Capturing News, Capturing Democracy: Trump and the Voice of America described, the first Trump administration failed in its attempts to remove the firewall and install loyalists.

This perhaps explains why Trump has resorted to more drastic measures this time. And, as with many of the current administration's legally dubious actions, there has been resistance.

The American Foreign Service Association says it will challenge the dismantling of the USAGM, while the Czech Republic is seeking EU support to keep Radio Free Europe and Radio Liberty on the air.

But for many of the agency's journalists, contractors, broadcasting partners and audiences, it may be too late. Last week the New York Times reported some Voice of America broadcasts had already been replaced by music.

*Valerie A. Cooper is a lecturer in Media and Communication at Te Herenga Waka—Victoria University of Wellington, New Zealand



This is Shortwave Radiogram in MFSK64

Please send your reception report to radiogram@verizon.net

This week's images …

An advertisement from the 1950s soliciting donations for Radio Free Europe. Most of its funding was actually covertly from the CIA. tinyurl.com/2bjcaucy …

Old church in Alberta with aurora in the background, March 23. tinyurl.com/27cv7dm3 …



A bird perches on a branch of a cherry-blossom tree in Tokyo, Japan, March 19. tinyurl.com/2b8jeddh …



Competitors in the ski cross competition at the 2025 FIS Freestyle Ski and Snowboarding World Championships, St. Mortitz, Switzerland. tinyurl.com/267m7768 …

 Boats sail at sunset during Ramadan in Dubai, UAE. tinyurl.com/27nztfkc …

A silhouette of travellers crossing the historic Mandalay bridge in Myanmar, during sunset. tinyurl.com/2bj9a455

Sunrise on H Street NE in Washington DC, March 21. The tracks of DC's only streetcar line are visible. tinyurl.com/23jmgtjj …

A green jay at Estero Llano Grande State Park, Texas, March 21. tinyurl.com/26pgdpcu …

Our oainting of the week is "Radio Sunset" (December 2022, Cambridge, Massachusetts) by Billy Idyll. tinyurl.com/22trlwtj …

Shortwave Radiogram returns to MFSK32 …

 Before RSID: <<2025-03-27T23:58Z MFSK-64 @ 9265000+1500>>

This is Shortwave Radiogram in MFSK32 …

Transmission of Shortwave Radiogram is provided by:

WRMI, Radio Miami International, http://wrmi.net

and

WINB Shortwave, http://winb.com

Please send reception reports to radiogram@verizon.net

And visit http://swradiogram.net

X/Twitter (for now): @SWRadiogram

I'm Kim Elliott. Please join us for the next Shortwave Radiogram.

[pearllemonus]

The Ultimate Guide to SEO Why Businesses Must Stay Updated

New York, NY – In the ever-evolving digital landscape, staying ahead of search engine optimization (SEO) trends is no longer optional for businesses—it is a necessity. The online world is fiercely competitive, and businesses that fail to adapt to new SEO strategies risk falling behind, losing visibility, and ultimately, losing revenue. With Google’s frequent algorithm updates, evolving user behavior, and the growing importance of high-quality content, SEO has become a cornerstone of digital marketing success.

The Changing Face of SEO

SEO is not what it used to be a decade ago. In the early days, keyword stuffing and link farms were enough to boost website rankings. However, search engines have become more sophisticated, focusing on delivering relevant and valuable content to users. Today, businesses must prioritize user experience, mobile-friendliness, page speed, and high-quality backlinks.

Google’s continuous updates, such as Core Web Vitals and the Helpful Content Update, have shifted the focus toward rewarding websites that provide real value to users. Businesses that fail to stay updated with these changes risk being penalized, leading to a significant drop in search rankings.

The Role of Content in SEO Success

Content has always been king, but its importance in SEO has grown exponentially. High-quality, engaging, and well-structured content is essential for attracting and retaining users. Search engines favor content that answers users' queries, provides unique insights, and enhances the overall online experience.

Gone are the days when simply publishing blog posts with keywords was enough. Today, businesses must create content that is comprehensive, well-researched, and optimized for both search engines and human readers. This includes incorporating relevant keywords naturally, using proper headings, and ensuring readability. Additionally, video content, infographics, and podcasts are becoming increasingly important in SEO strategies, as they provide alternative ways to engage audiences.

The Impact of Mobile-First Indexing

With the majority of web traffic coming from mobile devices, Google has implemented mobile-first indexing, meaning that the mobile version of a website is now considered the primary version. Businesses that fail to optimize their websites for mobile devices will see a decline in rankings. This includes having a responsive design, fast-loading pages, and an intuitive user interface.

Mobile SEO is more than just making a website look good on a phone. It involves optimizing site speed, ensuring content is easily readable without zooming in, and making navigation seamless. A poor mobile experience leads to higher bounce rates, which negatively impacts SEO rankings.

The Importance of Technical SEO

Technical SEO plays a crucial role in ensuring a website is accessible, crawlable, and indexable by search engines. Elements such as website structure, URL optimization, schema markup, and site security all contribute to a website’s search visibility.

Page speed is another critical factor. Slow-loading websites frustrate users and increase bounce rates, which negatively affects rankings. Implementing caching strategies, optimizing images, and using a content delivery network (CDN) can significantly improve website speed and user experience.

Backlinks and Authority Building

Earning high-quality backlinks from authoritative websites remains a powerful ranking factor. However, the approach to link building has evolved. Spammy backlinks and link-buying tactics no longer work; instead, businesses must focus on earning organic links through valuable content, guest blogging, and partnerships.

Building a strong online presence also involves leveraging social media and public relations. A well-connected brand that is mentioned in reputable online publications gains credibility in the eyes of search engines, boosting SEO efforts.

Voice Search and AI in SEO

With the rise of voice assistants like Alexa, Siri, and Google Assistant, voice search optimization has become a crucial aspect of SEO. Users now search using conversational queries, meaning businesses need to optimize for long-tail keywords and natural language.

Artificial Intelligence (AI) is also playing a significant role in shaping SEO. Google’s AI-powered RankBrain algorithm helps process search queries more effectively, prioritizing content that is relevant and engaging. Businesses that understand how AI influences search results can optimize their content accordingly.

Local SEO for Business Growth

For businesses with a physical presence, local SEO is more important than ever. Optimizing for local search involves claiming and updating Google My Business listings, gathering positive reviews, and ensuring NAP (Name, Address, Phone Number) consistency across online directories.

Local searches often have high intent, meaning users searching for services nearby are likely ready to make a purchase. Businesses that invest in local SEO can increase foot traffic and conversions.

The Future of SEO

SEO is constantly evolving, and businesses that want to stay ahead must be proactive rather than reactive. Adopting a long-term SEO strategy that incorporates high-quality content, technical optimization, mobile-friendliness, and user experience will ensure sustained success.

Businesses that fail to invest in SEO risk losing visibility to competitors who prioritize search engine rankings. SEO is no longer just about rankings; it is about building trust, credibility, and providing value to users.

For businesses looking to strengthen their SEO strategy, staying updated with industry trends and algorithm changes is essential. Partnering with SEO experts like Pearl Lemon can provide businesses with the knowledge and expertise needed to navigate the complexities of SEO and achieve sustainable growth.

About Pearl Lemon

Pearl Lemon is a leading SEO and digital marketing agency dedicated to helping businesses achieve online success. With a team of experts specializing in SEO, content marketing, and lead generation, Pearl Lemon delivers tailored strategies that drive results.For more information, visit https://pearllemon.com/us/.

Contact Information

Name: Pearl Lemon Address: 36 West 44th Street, 2nd Floor, New York, NY 10036, United States Phone Number: 447454539583

[levijxcksxn]

[ glen powell, male, he/him/his ] — spotted in the streets of brooklyn, it’s LEVI JACKSON. they have lived in the city for A YEAR, working as the EDITOR of LEPOR. the THIRTY-SEVEN year old will probably be seen around BROOKLYN HEIGHTS a lot, seeing as that’s where they live. people say they can be a bit VAIN and RECKLESS, but friends know them to be LIGHT-HEARTED and CAREFREE. you know for sure you’ve found them when you’ve come across AN OLDER MAN SMOKING ON HIS PORCH WITH HIS FACE OBSCURED BY A LARGE COWBOY HAT, DIRTY TRACKS ON AN OTHERWISE MARBLE FLOOR, AND AN OVERWHELMING SENSE OF RESPONSIBILITY. welcome to brooklyn, it’s been waiting for you!

TW: mention of drug use, family trauma/death, sexual themes Basics.

full name: levi jackson.

nicknames: "LJ", "Vi", "Lee", "Asshole", "Narcissistic prick".

hometown: born in new york city, lived in texas houston for the majority of his life.

current location: new york, ny

age: 37.

birthday: august 10th

star sign: leo.

pronouns: he/his/him 

sexuality: closeted homosexual.

personality: Many would consider it to be part of Jackson DNA to be self-absorbed, vain, and condescending, and Levi does nothing in order to suggest he's an exception to the rule. The main variable, however, that makes him stand out amongst his dynasty, is his recklessness - his refusal to, in a rather juvenile manner, "do as he's told". The wild child of the family, to tame a Jackson would be, in most cases, to get them to stop looking down their nose at you, when it comes to Levi, it's a matter of getting him to literally stop. That way someone would be able to finally figure out whether this is all a mask.

likes: thrills, nightclubs, alcohol, recreational drugs, motorbikes and/or fast cars, getting what he wants, attention, expensive things.

dislikes: instructions/orders, working, paparazzi, know-it-alls, elderflower, mornings, his dead dad.

fears: slowing down and smelling the roses, death, obscurity, being "exposed"

trivia: has been to the mile high club at least three times.

Bio.

The Jacksons are known as the rulers of the publishing industry within New York City. Books, newspapers, magazines, you name it, the Jackson money is probably in it. Hell, most cases it's more than just a casual investment, they own half of it.

And this was even the case back on the day of Levi's birth, considering his father wasn't at the emergency room because he was too busy securing one of the most monumental deals in the family's career that'd end up what skyrocketed their legacy.

Most of Levi's life was spent with the Jackson brand in mind. Even teaching him how to walk and how to talk was catered to be in the interest of the brand more than Levi's actual childhood growth.

Private schools galore, Levi skated through school, but came away with rather impressive results, simply because he had the tools and the support available to mean he could've simply not gone to school his entire life and still got a B.

Everything undercut by "you got that because your daddy's loaded", it wasn't until the height of Levi's teens that the rebellion reared its ugly head.  

Skipping school actually became part of Levi's daily routine. He picked up some other controversial hobbies, such as smoking weed or drinking, deliberately. Anything that could potentially even lightly dent the family image. But, eventually, as he and his family would come to realise, any publicity was good publicity. And so, his behaviour wasn't desirable per se, but there wasn't a fervent desire to curb and stop Levi's antics; not yet, anyway.

Levi's mother, Theresa (and his father's second ex-wife), was initially from Houston, and so, once Levi reached an "adult" age, he moved that way, as far away from his father, Victor, (and the rest of the Jackson cult) as soon as he could.

It was here that Levi "found himself" (if one could call it that), and established his reputation as a firestarter and a quintessential, in the eyes of the media, "bad boy".

Even during his voluntary absence from New York, he occasionally was forced to show up to family functions and affairs, a solely symbolic gesture and affair that he was, in fact, still a part of the family and deeply invested in its "growth".

That was all until Victor passed from natural causes. The fucker had held onto life far longer than anyone expected, essentially a lich by the time he kicked the bucket. Levi didn't cry - he barely knew the guy.

However, during the funeral proceedings, it was decided that Veronica, Victor's latest wife, would ascend the "Jackson" throne. Subsequently, a spot was now vacant, as she left her position as editor-in-chief at Lepor, the city's biggest and greatest fashion and lifestyle magazine, to become the figurehead of the business in its entirety.

All of this decided in Victor's long-winded will, it named Levi as the successor of the Lepor brand - in hopes, as the will wrote, it would "tame the boy" and "help him realise what his life has been for".

So, Levi, reluctantly, packs his bags and moves back to New York to bid his father good luck in the afterlife, and take on a new job he never wanted, and he'd do all in his power to show that.

But hey, at least he got free stuff.

Wanted Connections!

beard(s)! I don't want the "closeted" to just be in writing, I would like to explore the relationships that Levi has with women while he is currently navigating the comprehension of his sexuality. It can either be the "dating" phase, or an actual relationship, but it's worth knowing that the tabloids report Levi as a relentless "fuckboy".

bros before hoes! Levi needs friends (not gender-specific, the saying was just too funny to pass up) that will enable his chaos (or even temper it, try to keep him in check as they realise he's spiralling/lashing out) and be his escape from what is now a mundane corporate job that is severely out of his comfort zone.

The Jackson dynasty. It feels weird of me to say the family is huge and successful and then not broadcast the want for more family members, so I'll take literally any! It's worth noting that Levi was probably more reckless than most of the family thus far (though I would happily listen to a case made for otherwise), but family dynamics are key in this messy man's life!!

gay awakenings. it speaks for itself. the man's closeted, he's exploring his sexuality - how is he exploring it, and who with? no preferences on the type of guys, or the nature of relationship, i'm happy for anything pitched! the main theme is that it would not be a public relationship, especially with the first connection point in mind. so that'd have to be something you'd be willing to explore!!

[tehuti88-art]

1/24/25: r/SketchDaily theme, "Free Draw Friday." This week's characters from my anthro WWII storyline are Unnamed Wife and Unnamed Daughter. They're the family of Sgt. Camo Rat and are deceased before the main story. There'll be more about them later in my art Tumblr and Toyhou.se.

Regarding their design, the daughter is around four and resembles both parents somewhat. I got her fur and eye color by overlaying her father's picture over her mother's at 50% opacity.

TUMBLR EDIT: Sgt. Camo Rat's wife and daughter, I don't know much about them as they've never been developed, indeed they aren't much more than a plot device at the moment. This could of course change at a future time if I spend more time on them, though I'm afraid that time isn't just yet.

I'm not entirely sure where it is that Camo and his corporal, Drake, hail from; I always assumed New York, though in my current imagining of how Genesis starts (Drake and Camo both headed separately along a country road to their military base, Camo riding in a military truck, Drake driving an old motorcycle, the driver of Camo's truck spotting Drake puttering along and "jokingly" running him off the road; in a later scene involving flying lessons, the scene where Drake ends up insisting on staying grounded "like God intended," this also occurs in an area like that described below), both come from some area out in the country, with wide-open fields and lots of sky. I just Googled if New York State has any such areas and while it does have plains, none really seem to fit the image in my head, so maybe they come from further west and travel to NY later on.

Anyway. Camo lives out in the country but I don't get the feeling he's a farmer, I just assume he's career military. I can't imagine there were loads of employment options out in the country just before and during the Great Depression...? Because this is the time period when Camo must start his family, considering he fights in the Great War, where he has a brief run-in with Otto Himmel; he wonders about Himmel's young age (they must meet sometime around 1917, when Himmel is 17, so Camo must be older...I assume his birth year is around 1896 or so). He returns home, meets Wife somehow, and they have Daughter some time later. Another event which I know roughly coincides with Camo and his family is Prohibition, which according to Wikipedia was from 1920-33. About right; Camo shares many characteristics in common with his nemesis Himmel, and Himmel, in Germany, starts his family roughly around 1920, after returning from the war. Why is Prohibition a factor? Even way back when I settled on what happens to Camo's family, I knew this was tied in.

As I was saying, I think Camo's profession is the military, so his wife is probably simply a housewife and she cares for their daughter when he's at the base. Every evening he makes the long drive back along the dirt road to his home to be with them. Their life is simple, uneventful, thankfully not poor but also definitely not rich; they have each other and really, that's all that matters. It sounds trite but they love each other dearly; they don't need anything more than what they have. Much like Himmel's family.

It's quite a long, dusty drive to the nearest town, so this isn't something they indulge in often at all, though once in a while the family treats itself to a day out, putting on their best clothes, piling in the rattly old vehicle, laughing and chattering all the way there and Wife and Daughter dozing off on the way back. This particular evening is no different. Wife places sleeping Daughter in the vehicle and they all head back on the long drive home. Wife remains awake for a while, talking, though her head gets heavy and she starts nodding. Camo (whatever his real name is, I don't know that he goes by this name until the Trench Rats) also likely starts blinking and rubbing his eyes...this is a development I never considered before, I always just assumed one party is responsible for what then occurs. Wife blinks awake and lifts her head in time to stiffen up and yell her husband's name. His eyes pop open to see headlights barreling straight at them. He yanks the wheel, jerking the car aside, but the other vehicle grazes against the front just enough to send Camo's vehicle off balance; it hits a rut, flips, flips again, it's as if the entire world is spinning, Wife and Daughter both scream, the car tumbles in air and crashes to earth upside-down and aside from a soft hiss everything falls silent.

The other vehicle grinds to a halt some distance away. The driver is rattled and gasping but none the worse for wear; he glances out and back, sees the wreckage, grasps the door instinctively to get out and help...then stops himself. Agonizes. Makes his decision...restarts his car, and drives away. Of course he wants to help. Of course he feels guilty for leaving them behind, and likely will for a very long time. But he can't afford to be caught. Even he can smell the illegal alcohol on his own breath. He manages to make it home safely and is never suspected of what he did, though, ironically, he probably just starts drinking even harder to cope with the shame.

Camo, also ironically, never suspects him either, he blames himself, for starting to doze at the wheel, even though he was still on the right side of the road. He, too, carries this guilt with him the rest of his life, and chooses his own maladaptive coping techniques later.

For now, though, he's left unconscious in the family car. He blearily drags himself awake to see Wife still beside him, crumpled and bloody and unmoving; he murmurs her name, tries to reach her, yet can't seem to do so and doesn't understand why. She doesn't answer him, so he tries calling for Daughter; no response. He tries to turn himself to look for her yet everything seems out of place, he notices that the sky is below him and he seems to be pressed against the roof of the car. He can't figure out why he can't find Daughter or reach out for Wife and ends up losing consciousness again.

Another car comes across them the next day. The couple gets out and hurries over to check the overturned vehicle. The woman within is obviously dead. They almost don't even see the little girl thrown free of the vehicle, having landed in the nearby ditch; she, too, is already cold. They're startled to find that the man crumpled at an awkward angle above the driver's seat still has a faint pulse. They remove him as carefully as they can and drive him back to the town. Police head out to collect Wife and Daughter and take them to the morgue. Camo is stabilized, then transported to the military hospital on his base.

When he comes to again, he's very groggy and confused, and it takes some time for realization to set in, after he asks what happened and where his family is, that he won't be seeing them again. Even then, he's too numb with shock to much react. And still can't understand why he can't move. The doctor informs him of fractures...he doesn't follow...something cervical, something thoracic. Makes no sense to his foggy brain. The doctor simplifies. His neck and back have been broken. While wonders can be worked with time and rehabilitation, he can't promise that Camo will regain use of his limbs again. But they'll do everything they can to seek improvement.

Although he never breaks down once--the combination of drugs and emotional numbness prevents it--Camo does murmur, "What's the point." Without Wife and Daughter, there isn't one. He doesn't even care about the paralysis. He literally can't imagine a life worth living without his family.

One of the nurses, a somewhat older, heavyset woman, hears the comment, expresses her concerns to the doctor about his mental state. The doctor sympathizes but has no suggestions; if Camo doesn't wish to put in the effort, they can't make him. This isn't good enough for her. She can't bear the thought of him giving up and fading away forgotten in some hospital bed. Every time she comes on shift, she urges him to try the exercises he's given, try to get himself moving again.

Camo largely ignores these efforts at first, though the nurse starts to wear on him. As he adjusts to the medication he notices her accent and asks where she's from. She's a bit hesitant before replying that she's from Germany--a refugee of the Great War. Camo's unable to think of a reply to this.

His demeanor shifts, however. Whenever she leaves and he's left on his own, he focuses every ounce of his attention on his hand. Wills it to move. For ages, nothing happens, but he keeps at it, straining and focusing until his nerves are raw. And late one night, it happens--his finger twitches.

He always practices when nobody is around to watch. He doesn't like being seen struggling so hard, it's humiliating in a way. But he keeps at it. Slowly, slowly, he regains motion in his arms. He doesn't try to hide his progress, the hospital staff notice him beginning to slightly improve, but he won't work on any of it in front of them. This is easy enough when it's his arms...not so much when he decides to start working on his legs. He focuses, focuses, focuses, starts to feel his toes, manages to move one. Then another. After what feels like ages he attempts late one night to get out of his bed, to try to take even just a step or two. He knows it's a process. But even he misjudges, overestimates. His leg immediately gives out and it's only because he was still clinging to the bed that he doesn't crash entirely.

He figures he's going to be stuck this way for who knows how long, but almost immediately, someone puts their arms around him and hoists him up; together they manage to get him back upright. He blinks in surprise to see the stout nurse. They work to get him back in the bed and she places the covers back over him, tucking them in. He expects a rebuke, gets none. She doesn't say a word about it all the rest of the next day. But she does show up later that night. Neither of them discusses anything any of the following weeks, she just helps. Holds his arm to help him up, lets him lean on her to get out of the bed, supports him as he slowly, gingerly begins to put weight on first one leg, then the other. Guides him along the wall, makes sure he doesn't fall over, helps him back in the bed when he's too exhausted to continue.

His frustration with how lengthy and grueling the process is is obvious. He finally loses his temper one night after he slips and the nurse is unable to stop him from hitting the floor. At first when she reaches for him, he angrily slaps her hand away, so she takes a step back and lets him steam. This time it takes rather longer than usual.

"You know why I started doing this...?" he finally asks, an edge of spite in his voice. "Doing what?" the nurse asks. "Trying," he says. "Your accent. When you said you're from Germany. I decided I was going to get up and get moving. I don't want you watching over me every day of the rest of my life. I hate you." He gives her a venomous glare, though it's mixed with something else--he seems confused. "And I don't even know why," he admits.

The nurse stares back for a moment as if at a loss for words. She draws herself up a little--he expects her to leave--yet instead, she simply says, "Well then. Good. Take that and use it. Whatever works. Whatever gets you back on your feet again." She crooks her arm--"Come on now, up"--and after a brief, perplexed pause, he grasps it and the wall and gets back to his feet.

Camo slowly progresses to being able to use a wheelchair on his own, then crutches, then a cane. He still limps badly and can't stand unassisted, and has a great deal of physical pain which the doctor treats with morphine, yet "I know you probably don't see it for yourself, but you've made remarkable progress for someone with your degree of injury," the doctor tells him, not long before he's due to be released. They've done all they can for him, now it's in his hands to continue his rehabilitation. The military has a desk position waiting for him, until he's improved enough to resume regular work.

The nurse sees him off when he goes. He pauses to talk to her, though it's obvious he's struggling to think of what to say. Finally, he says, "I wanted to apologize. For what I said." He explains that his own ancestors came over from Germany, albeit much longer ago, so he has no place to say such things. She insists she doesn't mind, she has tough skin; but he too insists the anger is unwarranted, he knows she had nothing to do with his war experiences, with the accident, and especially with what happened to his family. He doesn't know how to deal with it all, especially now that he's on his own. He used to talk to his wife; now, suddenly, he has no one. The nurse says it's only understandable he would lash out--"Hurt people hurt people"--but now that he's aware of his own reactions, he can take that into his own hands, same as he did with his recovery. It's going to be a long, painful, lonely process...but she believes he can do it.

Camo resumes his military life, as now he has nothing else left for him. He does regain full use of his arms and legs, but deals with constant pain managed somewhat with a morphine addiction. He rarely ever talks about his lost family, keeping his feelings to himself lest they become overwhelming; there's some pain the morphine barely touches. When news starts filtering in of strange things happening under the new National Socialist government of Germany, he of course takes notice; as the rumors get more ominous, he floats plans to form a battalion. And after an alert arrives informing military officials of a squad of Americans trapped behind German lines without a declaration of war (Camo isn't in on this, so is perplexed to learn of it), a meeting is called, including Camo, Drake, and several others, to put his battalion plan in motion. They're going to be called the Trench Rats, and their first mission is to rescue Alpha Squad and then establish headquarters. Camo soon finds himself heading back to Germany, full of unease yet again.

He finds echoes of his lost wife and daughter, and other aspects of his life, in many of the people he encounters during his time in Germany. Drake's own mother dies shortly before they're due to ship out, and though Camo and Drake don't get along well at first, Camo shares his sense of abrupt grief. His choice of surgeon, Burgundy, lost his father and is estranged from his family, not telling them goodbye before he leaves. A French resistance nurse named Janette reminds him of his time spent in the hospital. A Wehrmacht sniper who ends up assisting his battalion, Ratdog, took up the rifle first as their enemy after his young son was killed. He again runs across Otto Himmel, the young infantryman from the Great War, now an SS captain, who kills Corporal Anna Julian, with whom Camo had grown close; though it isn't until after the war that he finds out why: Julian was working for the enemy, and Himmel, a widower, was simply doing everything in his power to protect his son.

Not least of all, he meets Helena Urbach, who lost her own husband and child in the camps, and for a time wondered if life was even still worth living. Camo has long been full of anger; Helena is full only of sadness. Yet he's had longer to sift through his feelings and let her know that there's nothing abnormal about still hurting. She in return lets him know that what he feels isn't strange either. The wounds remain, though they heal over, just a little; one day, after Helena tells him about her husband and child, she says, "Tell me about your wife and daughter," and, rather haltingly--he's not used to such things, after all--Camo does.

[Unnamed Wife (Camo) 2025 [‎Friday, ‎January ‎24, ‎2025, ‏‎12:00:13 AM]]

[leticiahewett]

The heaviness of grief

Some days is okay I wake up and I’m good.. on the bad days the heaviness of grief is horrible.. last night all sorts of random thoughts surrounding death pop in ny head..

like I’m watching a show on tv and all of a sudden a thought pops into your head and maybe even an image well that thought and that image was of a skeleton laying in a coffin underground..

I wasn’t watching anything that could of even been tied to my sons death I was watching fireworks being let off on YouTube.. my son Isiah had no connection with fireworks apart from us watching them quite often when they’d be let off around town..

this morning I’m waking up with a very heavy feeling in my chest and I can barely breathe..

I’m sitting here just wanting to cry and I haven’t even been awake for an hour.. some days upon waking up I have a few minutes before my brain catches up with reality.. luckily this isn’t an every day occurrence anymore it’s more like a random occurrence..

I’m not sure if I’ve just noticed this or whether kts been happening before Isiah’s death but my heart legit a feels different like there are times it’s skips beats, some days breathing is also weird like some days I feel like I’ve forgot to breathe.. so much I’m noticing now within my own body and mind..

I’m no stranger to grief I’ve lost many family members through my life. My grandmother who raised me, my grandfather, my father, many uncles and aunties I’ve even lost many friends but their grief of your child is grief like no other.. I’ve never experienced this type of pain..

I used to avoid cemeteries and anything surrounding death because I was scared of it.. even seeing a dead mouse would freak me out and now shit has changed I’ve had to face it full on by identifying my sons dead body..