#the last few chapters have been fully hype hype hype

[fivekrystalpetals]

TFW your rival/friend's underrated, almost invisible sidekick was the Main Villain TM all along lmao

[elisysd]

19. And in a blink of a crinkling eye I'm sinking, our fingers entwined

Masterlist - Previously - Next

Chapter soundtrack : So High School - Taylor Swift

Charles let out a scream as his engineer announced the P1 after crossing the checkered flag. Pole position. Finally,  And in front of you, he cockily thought. He was so excited to see your face, to hear your words and your analysis. That was his favorite part after a race. Listening to you commenting on his moves, praising him and calling him stupid when he deserved it. He went through his duties with a smile on his face but was already fully focused on the sprint shootout the next day and the sprint race. When Silvia told him he had a little time to relax before the team meeting, he jumped out of the media pen and ran towards the hospitality. 

You were there, talking to Joris and Antoine, a smile beaming on your face. Joris was the first one to notice him and to tell the group he was coming. You turned around and Charles took a second to appreciate how you looked in your blue jeans overall and cowboy boots. Casual but very on-brand with the GP atmosphere. On his way to you he picked up a cowboy hat left there for decoration, and put it on your head when he got closer. Now, you were perfect. 

“The one-lap king has arrived,” you greeted him, putting both hands on his shoulders to pull him into you. 

“King? Where is my crown, then?” he joked around as he shook his best friends’ hands. 

You left his embrace to take your hat away and place it on his head.

“Here. You look good, now. All sweaty and red with a sparkling cowboy hat.” 

He didn’t notice straight away Antoine snapping a picture of him. 

“Hey! I swear if you upload that picture, you’re fired.”

“And who would make you look good on Instagram?” Antoine shrugged. 

“I can find a new photographer.”

“Maybe but you’re too lazy to actually search for one.”

Charles tried to hit his friend’s shoulder but missed it, making everyone laugh. This day felt good to Charles. He was happy and confident about the weekend, for the first time in months. 

And he was right to be, despite being a bit salty from missing another pole, for the sprint race this time, for a few tenths. But it didn’t last long as your smile and your support were everything he needed to have before the sprint race. He ended up P3, a good result for him, confirming the pace and how he felt driving the car for a few GPs now. But now that the sprint race was over, his eyes were on the trophy and the pole position he wouldn’t easily give up the next day. 

That’s why it hurt him so bad to learn about the disqualification a few minutes after the race. Your smile wasn’t as happy and bright as the day before, replaced by a pitying look and a consolation hug. Austin was a race to forget, like most of them since the beginning of the season. 

The next two races were like a rollercoaster with some highs and some lows. A podium in Mexico and a DNS in Interlagos that had Charles crying in your arms, defeated and frustrated. It had taken a while to make him forget his worries and you were relieved to have a break before Vegas. He needed it. As for you, you had worked tirelessly on your podcast, managing to make a few interviews. The editing for the one with Silvia was almost done and you had managed to talk to Ruth Buscombe who knew Charles very well. It had been an enlightening hour for you and you couldn’t wait for people to hear her words. You also were on your way to book an interview with Claire Williams after Abu Dhabi, you only needed to go over the details. The visuals for your media was also ready and the announcement had been shared online. It had only taken an Instagram’s story from Charles where he had reposted the poster of your podcast, for your media to gain a few thousands followers in a few minutes. Now, you just needed to build up the hype around it before launching the first episode. 

“Still working?” Charles asked, appearing in the kitchen of the villa rented a little outside of Los Angeles, in his swimming trunks.

“I’m almost done. I need this to be perfect, I want it to be interesting for people, I want them to learn stuff…”

“You’re putting too much pressure on yourself.”

“You’re one to talk mister ‘I’m blaming myself for every little fuck ups that are out of my control’.”

“Okay, you won. But you are missing out on something great out there,” Charles shrugged. 

“Is the pool that good?”

“The pool is and the view as well,” he said, pointing at himself to make you chuckle. 

“Give me five more minutes and then I’m all yours.”

Five minutes turned into a whole hour before you finally closed your laptop, happy and relieved to be done with the editing. It was becoming more and more real, now, and you were half excited and half anxious to upload the first episode. You already had a date. It would be the first Monday following Abu Dhabi. You still had a lot of things to prepare before the release date. 

Walking outside you took a little moment to look at the view in front of you. Your boyfriend was playing with Joris in the pool, like two kids, while Andrea was trying his best to make sure they wouldn’t hurt themselves and Antoine was filming the whole scene. You smiled blissfully. If life was always like this with Charles, you would sign up for a lifetime in the blink of an eye. 

You didn’t know how much you needed holidays until you were actually on holiday. Charles had convinced you to leave your laptop on the side for a few days and since then, you had spent every single day, sunbathing with a book in your hand while Charles was making sure you were properly fed. It had even turned into a joke at some point, Joris saying he acted like your personal slave. You  had fun. And you couldn’t remember when was the last time you had felt this carefree. You were walking hand in hand with Charles in the streets, sharing ice cream and fighting over which flavor was the best. For you nothing could beat strawberry when Charles was deeply attached to his good old vanilla. You even went to the Universal Studios where Charles had dragged you and Andrea on the scariest rides. 

But soon, it was time for you to leave for Las Vegas for the penultimate race of the season. You were excited and curious to see what it would look like and you also knew Charles was eager to perform there. He was in a winning mindset and you would lie if you were saying you didn’t find that very sexy. Everything in Vegas was made for tourists and F1 fans, from goodies, to extravagant posters, to people stopping you in the streets to tell you all about the opening ceremony and how grandiloquent it was going to be. It wasn’t hyping you in the slightest, instead it was starting to annoy you. F1 was not a circus, it was first and foremost a sport. But Charles was excited and you didn’t want to kill his mood, so you kept your mouth shut. 

“It’s fun, it’s different! And if it can bring a new audience to the sport, who am I to criticize it?” he told you when you first started to emit some doubts. 

“Max sure has a different opinion than you.”

“But you know Max. I’m not him, I’m more optimistic.”

“You’re an idealist, Charles. It’s both of your biggest strength and your biggest flaws,” you gently smiled at him, while you were adjusting your dress, all dolled up for the ceremony. He sent you an appreciative look when you made your way into the room. 

“Now, seeing you in that red dress might be a good reason to stay there and to skip the ceremony.”

He got up from the bed and took you in his arms, trying to kiss your mouth but you deflected at the very last moment resulting in a simple kiss on the cheek. 

“I spent almost an hour on my make up, I won’t let you ruin it.”

“Fine. If you don’t let me ruin it now, maybe you’ll let me later, right?”

“Behave and you’ll find out,” you winked at him before taking your purse and his hand as you both made your way out of the hotel room. 

Arriving at the track, you were blinded by the lights and the crowd. Soon enough, you found yourself being separated from Charles as he had duties to attend. You wander along the different activities and sponsor stands trying to get yourself into the mood of the weekend. But the noise, the crows, the lights soon left you lightheaded and you decided to isolate yourself. You had almost made it out of the paddock when you bumped into a hard chest that made you look up to apologize. What, or more like who, stood up in front of you made your heart miss a beat and your mouth turned dry. 

“Y/N… fancy, seeing you here.”

“Stan? What the hell are you doing in Vegas?”

“I’m accompanying my girlfriend. Her work brought her here. I thought you could be around but I didn’t think I would see you this soon.”

You didn’t know what to say. He was the last person you expected to come across. He looked the same as before but everything in him was disgusting to you, to the point you wondered how you could have ever thought about dating him. 

“Your girlfriend?” you managed to stutter. 

“Yeah. She is right there, by the way. Roxanne ? Please, come here,” he waved at someone behind you. And when Roxanne stood up in front of you, a cold smile on her face, you felt your stomach drop. 

Because Roxanne was looking exactly like you, despite a few differences. So much that it was uncanny and unnerving. 

Author's note: So this is not my best work and I'm sorry about that. It's a filler chapter. I just hope you still liked it!

Don't hesitate to leave a comment or an ask, as well as reblogging and leaving a like. Besides the fact that I absolutely love to read you, it helps a lot for the story to find its audience. I also have a taglist for this story, so if you want to be added so you never miss a chapter, let me know.

If you wanna be part of the taglist, let me know.

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[skylarmoon71]

Miguel O'Hara (Across The Spiderverse) - Chapter 1

As the leader of this superhero organization, he was aware that the personalities tended to range. 

Essentially they were all somewhat the same.

That’s why he was a little lost. He’d seen others fumble, but this was next level. Peter insisted that you possessed the same skills. Apparently you’d stopped a car from crushing him. So he was grateful. That’s when he introduced you to the building of superheroes.

What Peter failed to mention was that you had recently gotten your gifts or you were possibly the clumsiest person in the universe.

“This is (Y/N).”

Gwen, Jessica and Peter stood with smiles and Miguel jumped down.

You held out your hand approaching him.

“Nice to meet you I’m-”

Your words were interrupted when you fell face first, right into the ground. Miguel blinked and Peter just laughed awkwardly, moving to your side to help you up. Now that you were upright, you tried to fix yourself. Gwen panicked when she saw your bloody nose.

“You’re bleeding!”

You just laughed it off, wiping your sleeve under your nose to clear the blood.

“It’s fine, this happens all the time.”

At the time he thought you were joking, but further inspection on your character proved otherwise.

In the span of three hours of being in Nueva York you successfully fell off one of the many platforms, lost your interdimensional watch that you were just recently assigned and webbed yourself in the face. He never met a spider person with such terrible depth of perception or coordination.

After you left, Peter was pleading his case.

“Come on, she’s a bit clumsy but she has the right spirit. We just need to train her.”

“I think we’d need a safe room to train her. How did she manage to get herself stuck to the wall with her own webs?” Jessica asked.

Gwen shook her head with a smile.

“So she’s a bit uncoordinated so what? It could be worse, at least this spider woman isn’t evil.” Gwen inputted.

They all winced internally at that.

The last trip was a bit of a headache. Seeing as spider people in that universe were public enemy number one. 

Not a place any of them were looking to go back to.

“She’s a good person. She was scared out of her mind but she jumped onto that bridge and saved half a dozen people, including me. I would have been sore for days if she didn’t grab that car. Just give her a chance.” Peter urged.

Miguel still wasn’t fully convinced, but the last thing he needed was to hear Peter nagging him until he relented.

“Fine, but you’re responsible for training her. “

“Yes boss!!”

That’s how it started.

They decided to recruit you into their little club. You were still getting the hang of everything and when you came back, this time you had a pretty impressive suit. Miguel figured despite your obvious lack of spatial awareness, you were still very much a genius like many of the others. So your training began.

Week 1

“All you have to do is dodge all the beams.”

The training room was the obvious place to start. Miguel stood at the side with a few others as they watched you mentally hype yourself up.

“I’m ready.” You called.

So he clicked the button, starting the program. There were about a couple dozen beams in the room in just about every direction. The first test was honing your senses. An easy enough task since they were basically built into every spider enhanced hero.

It took all of ten seconds for you to get hit by the first circular beam. Then it just went downhill from there.

Each time the wooden poles connected with a body part they would flinch.

“I-I’m okay!”

Another struck you right in the face and you were down for the count. Miguel turned the switch off, looking at Peter with a glare.

“I-I’m sure she’s just testing out how much her body can take.”

A lame defense.

Miguel let out a sigh of annoyance as he went over and heaved your body over his shoulder as he headed to the infirmary.

Week 2

“Hand to hand combat is hero 101. Regardless of any abilities it’s nice to know how to fight. Training improves that. Today we’ll be doing the basics, just block my attacks.” Peter instructed.

Jessica agreed to supervise, just in case.

“Okay.”

You lifted both fists, ready for whatever he was about to dish out. The first blow he delivered hit your arm, and you meant to take a step back to brace and counter, but your legs got caught in each other and you tumbled to the floor. Peter stared owlishly, watching your groaning form on the ground.

“You okay?”

“Peachy.”

You picked yourself up off the ground, rubbing your back as you focused again.

“Ready.”

He looked a little less sure this time.

“You sure there?”

“I’m positive, hit me with the best you got.” 

He wasn’t sure that was such a good idea.

“Alright, how about I just show you how to kick?” He lowered his hands, already heading to the punching bags, but you stumbled after him.

“I-I can fight!!”

Your unsteady steps made you stagger and before you knew what was happening you were falling. Peter moved on instinct to block it, but his haste to assist made you crash right into him, more specifically, your forehead rammed right into his. Just like that you were both knocked out at the force.

Jessica ended up dragging both your bodies to the infirmary.

Week 3

“Just focus on strengthening your core. Push ups, sit ups, hip thrusts, seated rows.”

Gwen’s instruction seems easy enough. They figured there was no way you could hurt yourself.

At least they hoped.

“Got it.”

Gwen smiled, content that he had a solution. She turned to Miguel with a triumphant smile, only to hear the sound of something crash. When she looked back, the shelf of workout items a few inches above your head had broken and all its contents crashed on you.

“W-What! I turned around for like three seconds!”

Miguel merely walked away and Gwen was the one taking you to get medical attention this time,

By week four they’d somewhat given up. 

The plan was to regroup and come up with another plan of action. Looking over the team of superheroes present, you let out a sigh of defeat. Peter, Gwen and Jessica looked a bit worn out. Either from taking hits or trying to ensure you didn’t receive any. Miguel looked as unimpressed as usual.

“I’ll be heading back for now.”

There wasn’t much more you could do. The second the doors closed, they all looked a bit sympathetic.

“She’s really trying, I feel bad.” Gwen commented.

“Maybe we should start fresh next week. “ Peter suggested. 

Miguel frowned.

“Leave her alone for the time being.” He instructed.

They didn’t like it, but at the moment they had the anomaly situation to worry about, so they relented.

Miguel went about the next few days as usual. Assigning missions, tracking activity. He was focused, yet that look on your face refused to leave his mind. He grumbled, and Lyla smiled as her holographic figure sat right above his shoulder.

“Feeling a little guilty there, boss man.”

“Why would I feel guilty, she’s the one who almost took out a half dozen of my members as well as my technology. “

“Maybe she’s just stressed. Not everyone can do the whole brooding spiderman bit.”

“What exactly would you suggest I do?”

“Jump on over to her universe and give her a little pep talk.”

“I don’t give pep talks.”

His eyes moved back to the pad as he continued to organize data.

“She saved Peter.”

Miguel’s hand stopped in place and Lyla hovered right in front of him.

“She could have just walked away or become some super villain, but she chose to risk her life for strangers. That has to count for something.” 

It wasn’t often that Lyla got sentimental like this. Her nature was more playful, easy going, that’s why he knew that this must have meant a lot.

“One trip.” He grumbled.

She was already smiling.

“Alright let’s go!!” 

[lulumilkshake]

oh my gawwd that chapter was so underwhelming so here’s my analysis on some parts lol

lowkey just felt like a filler chapter idk if that’s just me since it was extremely short, it just pretty much explained things we already knew or could infer.

two things that stick out to me during the chapter though were:

1. gojo and yuuta trained swapping souls?? hello?😭 the point of it was for yuuta to improve his barrier techniques and preform that hit on sukuna (hence why sukuna was impressed)

but one thing I’m confused about with this piece of information is: shouldn’t he(yuuta) have Gojo’s memories? during the domain clash, he didn’t know that Sukuna could bypass Gojo’s infinity because Mei-Mei’s crows weren’t inside the domain at that time, but since he also has Gojo’s memories now, shouldn’t he know this piece of info?😭

I’m guessing it was just because he’s only been in his body for a few moments, but whatever. In my opinion it’s just writing inconsistency because Kenjaku was fully able to access Geto’s memories and since Yuta copied Kenjaku’s technique, it should’ve been the same for him.

2. Poor rika ☹️

+ The hype of this chapter was large because of the “yuuji going crazy” allegations—but let’s be honest, bro got sidelined after the culling game ended and got sidelined in this chapter too. That was never gonna happen.

Gojo didn’t mind that his body was used for this too (the “practicing” with Yuuta confirming that further), so him going “feral” would look stupid asf without a valid reason 💀 He cares about Gojo as much as the next but right now the main goal is to finish off Sukuna just as it was for the last 30 something chapters.

Yuuta feels more like the main character than Yuuji right now obviously but I feel like Yuuta will most likely loose against Sukuna but then weaken Sukuna enough so that Yuuji will gain some massive plot-armour and defeat Sukuna. It’s a simple-minded explanation but seeing how Gege literally makes things up as he goes it’s my best conclusion😭

Gege got some kink for people switching bodies cuz this shit ridiculous and

(also gojo fans were definitely manifesting for gege to get sick. speedy recovery to him🙏)

[empressofdiamonds]

Desiring love from someone that [negative emotion] you, aka HOW TO NOT BE A MOPEY P*CKME

You want to be loved. But it shouldn't go at the sacrifice of dignity. Your dignity.

3 chapters: Lack of Interest, What To Do, How to Avoid Next Time

Signs of lack of interest (aka "he's not that into you")

Doesn't asks questions to you, even well into the relationship.

Lacks observance of you. Isn't proactive. He won't try to ancitipate difficulties and try to make your life easier.

You feel your life is now a bit harder than it used to be.

Doesn't do services, care. You don't feel pampered.

You tend to lead the conversations. (it should be the opposite)

You try to fill in the awkward uncomfortable silences.

You try to "win back" the initial sparkling feeling you had at the beginning, in any ways. You go out of the way to win that back (unbalanced efforts, you put in way more effort, much more than you would normally do).

You tend to become self-conscious ("What if it's my looks/weight/teeth/manners/what if I'm boring?"), assuming it's your doing. Don't worry I'm sure you're fine as you are bestie <3

You don't meet his friends, his family.

And if you do, he doesn't hypes you up facing them (p.ex."Here is my beautiful girlfriend Moira").

RED FLAG: His friends/family aren't that interested in knowing you (Sign you're "yet another girl").

He doesn't listens to your needs or desires. If you say you don't like gold jewelry, and he buys you gold.... Or if you say you don't like mushrooms at all and he brings a huge mushroom bechamel pizza home.... Run.

You feel he answers more to his own desires than yours.

You feel alone in the relationship.

You aren't sure he will have your back in extreme situations. (If you do, GIRLIE WAKE UP)

You feel some shame at the thought of showing him to your family or friends.

He doesn't do the "good morning/good night" texts. And if he does, you don't feel giggly.

After encounters with him you don't feel energized or happy, but rather depressive, down, sad, guilty, regretful, etc.

You find yourself engaging in abnormal behavior patterns. Stress induced behavior, your behavior towards other other than him changes.

You tend to neglect your own personal life, because you want to loop him back into "what it once was".

You find yourself disappointed in the relationship, expecting a GREAT thing, but find yourself with.... this. You feel disappointed.

What to do!? I find myself checking off a few things in the list above!?

You STEP BACK. Retract yourself from this dynamic. Wellness day, but from this relationship.

Take a few deep breaths. When was the last time you FULLY focused on YOU and just YOU? if it has been more than a few weeks, it's an emergency girlie.

What did you leave behind? Did you neglect duties, hobbies, personal projects? It is time to clean up your schedule and focus on YOU. Go, girlie. You need to be an individual, not his Siamese twin.

Make a thorough pros-cons to your relationship with him. Be honest and don't put in "fake pros". It's for you and you, and if you don't write it all, you're lying to yourself... Clown stuff you know. Include emotional, material, financial, social aspects of it all. Everything. If you checked off a few things, odds are incredibly high you might have way more cons than pros. Be HONEST towards yourself.

Then, if you went through all those steps, I'm sure you deduced what to do now. (If you haven't... read more of my posts) You only deserve net additions to your life. You better off single. Yeah.

Okay so.... what must I do to avoid them NEXT TIME?

Trust yourself: If you feel some negative emotion regarding a relationship you're in... LISTEN to this! You have HAVE to listen to this inner queen screaming you the answers. You need a life worth living, a life in which you're happy and comfortable in.

RUN when the inner queen screams to RUN. "Politeness" or "societal standards" go in the compost bin. If you're feeling uncomfortable, get UP. Simple.

Surround yourself with queen besties and only tolerate queen behavior. Pickmes can encourage one to ignore the gut instinct. They can tell you "oh he's actually fantastic", and the guy's breathing dust and mites. They create UNNECESSARY inner conflict. You need inner PEACE AND QUIET, aka, you know what is correct, what's not, you got it all streamlined up. Decisions should never be complicated. If you need one thick 40 lines paragraph at font size 11, or a 5 minutes monologue to explain yourself in your rationale, it's too much.

PRIORITIZE YOURSELF above everything. A great partner will be SO glad you're doing that because he won't have a decomposing mess in his hands at some point. Don't worry, he should be able to handle his own stuff. And this will naturally repulse those that want you all for themselves, those types that run women to the ground.

If you find yourself a great guy... STEPPING BACK and REEVALUATING regularly will be so useful, you throw a fresh, more objective eye to things. Reevaluation is KEY.

[dailyanarchistposts]

E.5 Can ethical consumerism stop the ecological crisis?

No. At best, it can have a limited impact in reducing environmental degradation and so postpone the ecological crisis. At worse, it could accelerate that crisis by creating new markets and thus increasing growth.

Before discussing why and just so there is no misunderstanding, we must stress that anarchists fully recognise that using recycled or renewable raw materials, reducing consumption and buying “ecologically friendly” products and technologies are very important. As such, we would be the last to denounce such a thing. But such measures are of very limited use as solutions to the ecological problems we face. At best they can only delay, not prevent, capitalism’s ultimate destruction of the planet’s ecological base.

Green consumerism is often the only thing capitalism has to offer in the face of mounting ecological destruction. Usually it boils down to nothing more than slick advertising campaigns by big corporate polluters to hype band-aid measures such as using a few recycled materials or contributing money to a wildlife fund, which are showcased as “concern for the environment” while off camera the pollution and devouring of non-renewable resources goes on. They also engage in “greenwashing”, in which companies lavishly fund PR campaigns to paint themselves “green” without altering their current polluting practices!

This means that apparently “green” companies and products actually are not. Many firms hire expensive Public Relations firms and produce advertisements to paint a false image of themselves as being ecologically friendly (i.e. perform “greenwashing”). This indicates a weakness of market economies — they hinder (even distort) the flow of information required for consumers to make informed decisions. The market does not provide enough information for consumers to determine whether a product is actually green or not — it just gives them a price supplemented by (often deliberately misleading) advertising designed to manipulate the consumer and present an appropriate corporate image. Consumers have to rely on other sources, many of which are minority journals and organisations and so difficult to find, to provide them with the accurate information required to countermand the power and persuasion of advertising and the work of PR experts. This helps explain why, for example, “large agribusiness firms are now attempting, like Soviet commissars, to stifle criticism of their policies” by means of “veggie libel laws.” These laws, which in 2001 had been passed in 13 American states (“backed by agribusiness”) “make it illegal to criticise agricultural commodities in a manner inconsistent with ‘reasonable’ scientific evidence. The whole concept of ‘veggie libel’ laws is probably unconstitutional; nevertheless, these laws remain on the books.” [Eric Schlosser, Fast Food Nation, p. 266]

We should not discount the impact of PR experts in shaping the way people see the world or decide to consume. A lot of resources are poured into corporate Public Relations in order to present a green image. “In the perverse world of corporate public relations,” note critics John Stauber and Sheldon Rampton, “propagandising and lobbying against environmental protection is called ‘environmental’ or ‘green’ PR. ‘Greenwashing’ is a more accurate pejorative now commonly used to describe the ways that polluters employ deceptive PR to falsely paint themselves an environmentally responsible public image … Today a virulent, pro-industry, anti-environmentalism is on the rise … PR experts … are waging and winning a war against environmentalists on behalf of corporate clients in the chemical, energy, food, automobile, forestry and mining industries.” A significant amount of cash is spent (an estimated $1 billion a year by the mid-1990s) “on the services of anti-environmental PR professionals and on ‘greenwashing’ their corporate image.” [Toxic Sludge is Good for You!, p. 125] See the chapter called “Silencing Spring” in Stauber’s and Rampton’s book Toxic Sludge is Good for You! for a good summary of this use of PR firms.

Even apparently ecologically friendly firms like “The Body Shop” can present a false image of what they do. For example, journalist Jon Entine investigated that company in 1994 and discovered that only a minuscule fraction of its ingredients came from Trade Not Aid (a program claimed to aid developing countries). Entine also discovered that the company also used many outdated, off-the-shelf product formulas filled with non-renewable petrochemicals as well as animal tested ingredients. When Entine contacted the company he received libel threats and it hired a PR company to combat his story. [Stauber and Rampton, Op. Cit., pp. 74–5] This highlights the dangers of looking to consumerism to solve ecological problems. As Entine argued:

“The Body Shop is a corporation with the privileges and power in society as all others. Like other corporations it makes products that are unsustainable, encourages consumerism, uses non-renewable materials, hires giant PR and law firms, and exaggerates its environment policies. If we are to become a sustainable society, it is crucial that we have institutions … that are truly sustainable. The Body Shop has deceived the public by trying to make us think that they are a lot further down the road to sustainability than they really are. We should … no longer … lionise the Body Shop and others who claim to be something they are not.” [quoted by Stauber and Rampton, Op. Cit., p. 76]

Even ignoring the distorting influence of advertising and corporate-paid PR, the fundamental issue remains of whether consumerism can actually fundamentally influence how business works. One environmental journalist puts the arguments well in his excellent book on “Fast Food” (from the industrialisation of farming, to the monopolisation of food processing, to the standardisation of food consumption it). As he puts corporations will “sell free-range, organic, grass-fed hamburgers if you demand it. They will sell whatever sells at a profit.” [Eric Schlosser, Op. Cit., p. 269] He complements this position by suggesting various regulations and some role for trade unions.

Which, of course, is true. It is equally true that we are not forced to buy any specific product, which is why companies spend so much in convincing us to buy their products. Yet even ignoring the influence of advertising, it is unlikely that using the market will make capitalism nicer. Sadly, the market rewards the anti-social activities that Schlosser and other environmentalists chronicle. As he himself notes, the “low price of a fast food hamburger does not reflect its real cost … The profits of the fast food chains have been made possible by the losses imposed on the rest of society.” [Op. Cit., p. 261] This means that the idea that by using the market we can “reform” capitalism is flawed simply because even “good” companies have to make a profit and so will be tempted to cut costs, inflict them on third parties (such as workers, consumers and the planet). The most obvious form of such externalities is pollution. Such anti-social and anti-ecological behaviour makes perfect business sense as prices fall when costs are passed on to others in the form of externalities. Thus firms which employ debt-slaves in sweatshops while polluting the atmosphere in a third-world dictatorship will have lower costs and so prices than those employing unionised workers under eco-friendly regulations.

The amazing thing is that being concerned about such issues is considered as a flaw in economics. In fact, seeking the lowest price and ignoring the social and ecological impact of a product is “considered virtuousness” by the market and by economists for, as green economist E. F. Schumacher, pointed out ”[i]f a buyer refused a good bargain because he suspected that the cheapness of the goods in question stemmed from exploitation or other despicable practices (except theft), he would be open to criticism of behaving ‘uneconomically’ which is viewed as nothing less than a fall from grace. Economists and others are wont to treat such eccentric behaviour with derision if not indignation. The religion of economics has its own code of ethics, and the First Commandment is to behave ‘economically.’” [Small is Beautiful, p. 30] And, of course, such a consumer would face numerous competitors who will happily take advantage of such activities.

Then there is the issue of how the market system hides much more information than it gives (a factor we will return to in section I.1.2). Under the price system, customers have no way of knowing the ecological (or social) impact of the products they buy. All they have is a price and that simply does not indicate how the product was produced and what costs were internalised in the final price and which were externalised. Such information, unsurprisingly, is usually supplied outside the market by ecological activists, unions, customer groups and so on. Then there is the misinformation provided by the companies themselves in their adverts and PR campaigns. The skilfully created media images of advertising can easily swamp the efforts of these voluntary groups to inform the public of the facts of the social and environmental costs of certain products. Besides, any company has the threat of court action to silence their critics as the cost in money, resources, energy and time to fight for free speech in court is an effective means to keep the public ignorant about the dark side of capitalism.

This works the other way too. Simply put, a company has no idea whether you not buying a product is based on ethical consumption decisions or whether it is due to simple dislike of the product. Unless there is an organised consumer boycott, i.e. a collective campaign, then the company really has no idea that it is being penalised for its anti-ecological and/or anti-social actions. Equally, corporations are so interlinked that it can make boycotts ineffective. For example, unless you happened to read the business section on the day McDonalds bought a sizeable share in Pret-a-Manger you would have no idea that going there instead of McDonalds would be swelling the formers profits.

Ultimately, the price mechanism does not provide enough information for the customer to make an informed decision about the impact of their purchase and, by reducing prices, actively rewards the behaviour Schlosser condemns. After all, what is now “organic” production was just the normal means of doing it. The pressures of the market, the price mechanism so often suggested as a tool for change, ensured the industrialisation of farming which so many now rightly condemn. By reducing costs, market demand increased for the cheaper products and these drove the other, more ecologically and socially sound, practices out of business.

Which feeds into the issue of effective demand and income limitations. The most obvious problem is that the market is not a consumer democracy as some people have more votes than others (in fact, the world’s richest people have more “votes” than the poorest billions, combined!). Those with the most “votes” (i.e. money) will hardly be interested in changing the economic system which placed them in that position. Similarly, those with the least “votes” will be more willing to buy ecologically destructive products simply to make ends meet rather than any real desire to do so. In addition, one individual’s decision not to buy something will easily be swamped by others seeking the best deal, i.e. the lowest prices, due to economic necessity or ignorance. Money (quantity) counts in the market, not values (quality).

Then there is the matter of sourcing of secondary products. After all, most products we consume are made up of a multitude of other goods and it is difficult, if not impossible, to know where these component parts come from. Thus we have no real way of knowing whether your latest computer has parts produced in sweatshops in third-world countries nor would a decision not to buy it be communicated that far back down the market chain (in fact, the company would not even know that you were even thinking about buying a product unless you used non-market means to inform them and then they may simply dismiss an individual as a crank).

So the notion that consumerism can be turned to pressurising companies is deeply flawed. This is not to suggest that we become unconcerned about how we spend our money. Far from it. Buying greener products rather than the standard one does have an impact. It just means being aware of the limitations of green consumerism, particularly as a means of changing the world. Rather, we must look to changing how goods are produced. This applies, of course, to shareholder democracy as well. Buying shares in a firm rarely results in an majority at the annual meetings nor, even if it did, does it allow an effective say in the day-to-day decisions management makes.

Thus green consumerism is hindered by the nature of the market — how the market reduces everything to price and so hides the information required to make truly informed decisions on what to consume. Moreover, it is capable of being used to further ecological damage by the use of PR to paint a false picture of the companies and their environmental activities. In this way, the general public think things are improving while the underlying problems remain (and, perhaps, get worse). Even assuming companies are honest and do minimise their environmental damage they cannot face the fundamental cause of the ecological crisis in the “grow-or-die” principle of capitalism (“green” firms need to make profits, accumulate capital and grow bigger), nor do they address the pernicious role of advertising or the lack of public control over production and investment under capitalism. Hence it is a totally inadequate solution.

As green Sharon Beder notes, green marketing aims at “increasing consumption, not reducing it. Many firms [seek] to capitalise on new markets created by rising environmental consciousness” with such trends prompting “a surge of advertisements and labels claiming environmental benefits. Green imagery was used to sell products, and caring for the environment became a marketing strategy” and was a “way of redirecting a willingness to spend less into a willingness to buy green products.” This means that firms can “expand their market share to include consumers that want green products. Since manufacturers still make environmentally damaging products and retailers still sell non-green products on shelves next to green ones, it is evident that green marketing is merely a way of expanding sales. If they were genuinely concerned to protect the environment they would replace the unsound products with sound ones, not just augment their existing lines.” Moreover, green marketing “does not necessarily mean green products, but false and misleading claims can be hard for consumers to detect” while the “most cynical marketers simply use environmental imagery to conjure up the impression that a product is good for the environment without making any real claims at all.” Ultimately, green consumerism “reduces people to consumers. Their power to influence society is reduced to their purchasing power.” It “does not deal with issues such as economic growth on a finite planet, the power of transnational corporations, and the way power is structured in our society.” [Global Spin, pp. 176–80]

Andrew Watson sums up green consumerism very eloquently as follows:

“green consumerism, which is largely a cynical attempt to maintain profit margins, does not challenge capital’s eco-cidal accumulation, but actually facilitates it by opening a new market. All products, no matter how ‘green’, cause some pollution, use some resources and energy, and cause some ecological disturbance. This would not matter in a society in which production was rationally planned, but in an exponentially expanding economy, production, however ‘green’, would eventually destroy the Earth’s environment. Ozone-friendly aerosols, for example, still use other harmful chemicals; create pollution in their manufacture, use and disposal; and use large amounts of resources and energy. Of course, up to now, the green pretensions of most companies have been exposed largely as presenting an acceptably green image, with little or no substance. The market is presented as the saviour of the environment. Environmental concern is commodified and transformed into ideological support for capitalism. Instead of raising awareness of the causes of the ecological crisis, green consumerism mystifies them. The solution is presented as an individual act rather than as the collective action of individuals struggling for social change. The corporations laugh all the way to the bank.” [From Green to Red, pp. 9–10]

“Ethical” consumerism, like “ethical” investment, is still based on profit making, the extraction of surplus value from others. This is hardly “ethical,” as it cannot challenge the inequality in exchange and power that lies at the heart of capitalism nor the authoritarian social relationships it creates. Therefore it cannot really undermine the ecologically destructive nature of capitalism.

In addition, since capitalism is a world system, companies can produce and sell their non-green and dangerous goods elsewhere. Many of the products and practices banned or boycotted in developed countries are sold and used in developing ones. For example, Agent Orange (used as to defoliate forests during the Vietnam War by the US) is used as an herbicide in the Third World, as is DDT. Agent Orange contains one of the most toxic compounds known to humanity and was responsible for thousands of deformed children in Vietnam. Ciba-Geigy continued to sell Enterovioform (a drug which caused blindness and paralysis in at least 10,000 Japanese users of it) in those countries that permitted it to do so. Many companies have moved to developing countries to escape the stricter pollution and labour laws in the developed countries.

Neither does green consumerism question why it should be the ruling elites within capitalism that decide what to produce and how to produce it. Since these elites are driven by profit considerations, if it is profitable to pollute, pollution will occur. Moreover, green consumerism does not challenge the (essential) capitalist principle of consumption for the sake of consumption, nor can it come to terms with the fact that “demand” is created, to a large degree, by “suppliers,” specifically by advertising agencies that use a host of techniques to manipulate public tastes, as well as using their financial clout to ensure that “negative” (i.e. truthful) stories about companies’ environmental records do not surface in the mainstream media.

Because ethical consumerism is based wholly on market solutions to the ecological crisis, it is incapable even of recognising a key root cause of that crisis, namely the atomising nature of capitalism and the social relationships it creates. Atomised individuals (“soloists”) cannot change the world, and “voting” on the market hardly reduces their atomisation. As Murray Bookchin argues, ”[t]ragically, these millions [of “soloists”] have surrendered their social power, indeed, their very personalities, to politicians and bureaucrats who live in a nexus of obedience and command in which they are normally expected to play subordinate roles. Yet this is precisely the immediate cause of the ecological crisis of our time — a cause that has its historic roots in the market society that engulfs us.” [Toward an Ecological Society, p. 81] This means that fighting ecological destruction today must be a social movement rather than one of individual consumption decisions or personalistic transformation. These can go on without questioning the ecocidal drive of capitalism which “will insidiously simplify the biosphere (making due allowances for ‘wilderness’ reserves and theme parks), steadily reduce the organic to the inorganic and the complex to the simple, and convert soil into sand — all at the expense of the biosphere’s integrity and viability. The state will still be an ever-present means for keeping oppressed people at bay and will ‘manage’ whatever crises emerge as best it can. Ultimately, society will tend to become more and more authoritarian, public life will atrophy.” [Bookchin, “The Future of the Ecology Movement,” pp. 1–20, Which Way for the Ecology Movement?, p. 14]

All this is not to suggest that individual decisions on what to consume are irrelevant, far from it. Nor are consumer boycotts a waste of time. If organised into mass movements and linked to workplace struggle they can be very effective. It is simply to point out that individual actions, important as they are, are no solution to social problems. Thus Bookchin:

“The fact is that we are confronted by a thoroughly irrational social system, not simply by predatory individuals who can be won over to ecological ideas by moral arguments, psychotherapy, or even the challenges of a troubled public to their products and behaviour … One can only commend the individuals who by virtue of their consumption habits, recycling activities. and appeals for a new sensibility undertake public activities to stop ecological degradation. Each surely does his or her part. But it will require a much greater effort — and organised, clearly conscious, and forward-looking political movement — to meet the basic challenges posed by our aggressively anti-ecological society. “Yes, we as individuals should change our lifestyles as much as possible, but it is the utmost short-sightedness to believe that that is all or even primarily what we have to do. We need to restructure the entire society, even as we engage in lifestyle changes and single-issue struggles against pollution, nuclear power plants, the excessive use of fossil fuels, the destruction of soil, and so forth. We must have a coherent analysis of the deep-seated hierarchical relationships and systems of domination, as well as class relationships and economic exploitation, that degrade people as well as the environment.” [“The Ecological Crisis, Socialism, and the need to remake society,” pp. 1–10, Society and Nature, vol. 2, no. 3, p. 4]

Using the capitalist market to combat the effects produced by that same market is no alternative. Until capitalism and the state are dismantled, solutions like ethical consumerism will be about as effective as fighting a forest fire with a water pistol. Such solutions are doomed to failure because they promote individual responses to social problems, problems that by their very nature require collective action, and deal only with the symptoms, rather than focusing on the cause of the problem in the first place. Real change comes from collective struggle, not individual decisions within the market place which cannot combat the cancerous growth principle of the capitalist economy. As such, ethical consumerism does not break from the logic of capitalism and so is doomed to failure.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

The event was so weird.

I guess we were expecting something akin to Glorious Masquerade with a more extensive story, more meaningful character interactions and more impactful situations. From the way they framed it, that’s kinda what it looked like?

I wasn’t expecting it to be like GM at all, but like you said, it just feels like it was supposed to be much bigger than it actually was but they had to reduce/take out a lot of stuff from the event for unknown reasons. Like we’ve been hearing about Falena all this time and when we get an event that is centered around Leona and his homeland we don’t even get to meet him? We get a random Zazu-inspired character instead? We get crumbs of family drama and it’s not even the brothers directly interacting? They imply the fight is gonna be this huge thing, we’ll see the importance and strength of the lioness beastwomen with them implying Cheka’s guards are gonna fight?? And then???

And then Catch the Tail wasn’t even…. A cathartic moment. No hype. Nothing exciting or meaningful. This event was basically tourism. As interesting it as it is to hear about Sunset Savanna’s culture and culinary, I feel like the entire event was just that and it got a bit boring for me. Not even many fun interactions between characters, most of the time they are talking about souvenirs and food – we got that in Jamil and Kalim’s event and it wasn’t even boring then. We also got that in Glorious Masquerade but there was so much more to it than that.

Honestly this event was a let down :/ at least we got to see Leona look in his card. Maybe they couldn’t do both this event and the chapter 7 part 2 release, who knows.

[Referencing this post!]

While I’m disappointed with how little the Sunset Savanna event did, I’m not too surprised because I understand that this is ultimately the same as other hometown events. The bulk of the story will inevitably be dedicated to learning about this new location and its traditions, tasting local delicacies, and souvenir shopping. This was also somewhat true of Glorious Masquerade, but that was on an entirely different scale (basically the same as the Halloween events) so it was allowed to have a grander story and bigger stakes.

I would say the degree of “fun” to the interactions is a really subjective thing? Some people won’t like certain character combinations over others. For example, this event was a lot of bickering due to Leona not getting along with like… anyone, whether that’s his classmates or those from his homeland. (I actually really liked those interactions 😂 but I get why someone would think they’re annoying or even repetitive after a while.)

I feel like the Scalding Sands event was only “fun” to me in that it was novel (it was the first of the hometown events). I was pretty bored with it outside of seeing the food and Najma; it was a lot of Jamil being saddled with more work which… just made me feel bad for him, not entertained (especially knowing his history with being overworked). The character interactions from that particular event weren’t for me, and it didn’t help that nothing of much significance happened?? The only notable conflicts were that Malleus vanished for five seconds and a monkey stole a flash drive, both of which were resolved in like a few chapters altogether. At least Scalding Sands didn’t make any big promises that it failed to deliver on?? Which is sort of the opposite of the Sunset Savanna event…

I think if TWST wanted to make this event bigger than it actually was, they should have saved it for a special occasion. The last part of it was so short (like 4 parts???? And only one part was for Leona showing up and winning) ;u; so it seemed like there was definitely more space in even the current version to expand on the ideas. Again, it really feels incomplete or like… not fully realized due to all the missed opportunities and unfulfilled hype surrounding the tournament (which feels weird given that the event was apparently in the works for 2 years??).

It is what it is though, we’ll have to accept it and move on. There’s still the Groovies to come on the 27th, along with the next part of episode 7 and Lilia’s Dorm Uniform card!

[bearsinpotatosacks]

Something that Does Right by You - Chapter 3

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Next Chapter

Goose gets officially introduced to the Aviators, and the daggersquad have a debate about Carole.

Words: 2673

“Attention on deck!” 

Goose heard someone call. Cyclone was to his left, as he and Warlock walked into the hangar and met eyes. They were the same rank. He’d wondered why he’d even been sent here and not carted back to wherever to train fresh faced aviators like he had been before the Darkstar mission. That answer came from Maverick’s guardian angel, Iceman. He’d gotten rank on him just like everyone expected him too, and being the Commander of the entire Pacific Fleet, if he wanted Goose with Maverick to oversee this mission, Goose was going to oversee this mission. It was also to keep Cyclone from fully combusting, Goose and Hondo were two of the only people who could successfully wrangle Maverick at times. And Cyclone didn’t seen to like Mav very much, anyway. 

Before he stepped out to talk to them, he took a look at the aviators. They all had a cocky look on their faces. They’d been chosen for a special mission, they were the most skilled of their generation of pilots and had been the sole choice to train for this detachment. It was like watching his younger self at Top Gun. All of them thought they were the shit, it made him a little sick. You needed that confidence to be a pilot, but you also couldn’t be too infallible as to not see your own shortcomings. If you were so big headed, you’d make big mistakes and get your team killed. 

Once all the aviators were standing at attention, he and Warlock stepped out to greet them. 

“Morning,” Goose said, he’d somewhat mastered the art of being the tough faced Admiral. 

“Morning,” Warlock said after him. 

He didn’t know a lot about the guy. He’d heard of him though, apparently he and Merlin used to play Dungeons and Dragons together, they’d been pilot and RIO after Cougar left. Maybe they’d also wanted two perspectives from their Rear Admirals. One of a pilot, that being Warlock, and one of a RIO, that being Goose. 

“Welcome to your special training detachment, be seated.” Warlock said. He waited until they’d all settled again to continue. “I’m Admiral Bates, Nautic Commander, this is Admiral Bradshaw.”

Goose nodded at them. “You’re all Top Gun graduates, all the best in your fields and trained for precision.”

“That was yesterday,” their faces dropped at Warlock spoke. “The enemy’s new fifth generation fighter has levelled the playing field, details are few but you can be sure that we no longer possess the technological advantage.”

“Succeededing, in this mission especially, will come down to you, your performance and who is in the box on the day. Half of you will make the cut, the other half will stay in reverse and only one of you will be named mission leader.”

One aviator, Hangman he thought, turned around and grinned at someone behind him. Rooster. There was that history he mentioned. He cleared his throat and he turned back around, that snark still on his face. 

Warlock spoke again.“Your instructor is a Top Gun graduate, with experience in every aspect of this mission, aspects you will all be expected to master.

“His exploits are legendary, he’s considered one of the best pilots this program’s ever produced, if not one of the best in the fleet.” Goose winked at Mav as he walked down the row of pilots. He tried not to hype Maverick up too much as his friend. He let himself a little bit, but he still had to do his job properly. “What he has to teach you may mean the difference between life and death, between going home to your families or having an empty grave.”

His last touch was something he thought they needed to hear. Sure, they were the best, but he doubted it was just them in their lives. They had parents, siblings, maybe spouses and children at home waiting. No one was an island. 

“I give you Captain Pete Mitchell, callsign Maverick.”

Maverick nodded at him with a smirk as he walked and let him give him speech. He held up the F-18 NATOPS and greeted the group.

“The F-18 NATOPS, contains everything they want you to know about your aircraft, I assume you know the book, inside and out?”

Various voices agreed with him. It was a simple question, like something beneath them. So cocky.

He threw the NATOPS in the bin next to him. Goose gulped. Cyclone closed his eyes, probably praying for patience or damming Mav to hell.

“So does your enemy.” He lent forward. “But what they don’t know is your limits, I intend to find them, push beyond.”

Nodding at Goose didn’t make him feel any better about how the situation was going. “Today, we'll start with what you only think you know.”

This was going to be an interesting day.

One thing Goose was known for among the Brass was getting to know his Aviators well. Whether it was thoroughly reading their files, or trying to keep a friendly-ish head on his shoulders amongst his commands, he was known to be a goofy guy. This was why he was approaching Rooster after they'd had their brief on the Hop, because he had to compliment him on his piano playing ability.

“Lieutenant Commander?” He called after him. 

The kid, well not really a kid, he was in his mid thirties for sure but that was certainly younger than him, turned and stood at attention. 

“At ease, Lieutenant.” He said. “I just wanted to compliment you on your skill with the piano.”

He blushed bright red, “Excuse me, sir?”

“I saw you playing the piano last night and you seemed very proficient.”

“Thank you?” He could tell this wasn’t what he was expecting him to say. “I'm sorry you saw me in such an unprofessional situation, sir.”

“It's nothing I wasn’t doing just that at your age,” he said. “I mean, my grandfather taught me, so if there's someone out there, your grandfather or your dad, they certainly knew their stuff.”

Rooster shrugged. “You won't be able to thank him for it, he didn’t teach me, I don't even know who he is, sir, so I taught myself.”

Goose felt a little ashamed of being so interested. This wasn’t what he should be doing. Yet, there was something about the kid, maybe it was how similar they looked or acted that struck a chord with him. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it. 

“Sorry to hear that Lieutenant,” he settled on. “Now, back to work.”

Rooster felt a trickle of water roll down his neck as he walked from the shower to the locker rooms. He could tell by the grout inbetween the tiles and the smell that this place hadn’t been updated since the seventies. That was the Navy all over. They’d update their offices and hangers as much as they liked but when it came to anything that made their aviators or sailors quality of life better, the money suddenly ran out. They didn’t seem to care about water pressure in the slightest, or consistently hot water. 

He got back into his uniform and collected his phone from his locker. It was the same one he’d claimed when he’d got here the first time. It even had his name on it, how sweet. There was a picture of him, his mum and Charlie from the time they visited the UK together stuck on the inside, she looked thin, still recovering from the brain tumour that had cropped up a little while back. 

To say he’d been terrified was an understatement. Last time she’d barely gotten out alive, hospitals still freaked him the fuck out whenever he had to go, which was as fewer times as he could conceivably get away with, and seeing her go through hell again made him want to punch something. The Navy hadn’t given him anywhere near enough time off to be with her. That’s why he was glad that she had Charlie with her too, and all those friends she’d made, she made them everywhere she went so he knew that she’d be okay. It was just that it had always been them, that as soon as he grew taller than her, which hadn’t take that long, he’d made it his responsibility to take care of her, made himself the man of the house. 

A rogue towel thrown at his head broke him from his daze. It was Payback. 

“We’re having a cookout on the beach, wanna join?” He asked, buttoning up his shirt. 

He shrugged. There wasn’t much planned with his evening. Now they were done for the day, and with the egos all suitably deflated, he had a good few hours to enjoy the California rays while they still lasted. 

“Cool, we’ve gotta call past the store and get some things first but give us an hour and meet us near the Hard Deck.”

As they left the lockers, he raised an eyebrow. “Penny trusts us with fire?”

“Why would she not? We’re in the Navy.” Fanboy somehow was at his side despite not being there before. 

“Exactly.” He said. “Do you not know how Phoenix got her callsign?”

“What about my callsign?”

He jumped as Phoenix smacked a hand on his shoulder. She must have gotten a few pointers from that new RIO of her’s. 

“Wow, I really made you jump,” she said with a sly smile. “And you’re a fighter pilot?”

“Do I need to mention our stint on the USS Harry S Truman in 2013?”

She squinted at him. “You know we don’t speak of that time.”

He rolled his eyes as they moved toward the entrance to the base and his bright blue bronco. His phone wrang in his pocket and by the picture on the screen, it was time for his mother’s daily update on his status. Sometimes he thought it was overkill, then he’d think of how close to death she’d come when she’d been sick and knew he shouldn’t take her overbearing considerate nature for granted. 

“Mom, hey.”

“See, I didn’t call when you were busy this time!”

He thought back to all the times when he’d been either rudely awakened by her in the middle of the night, with her forgetting the time difference, or when he’d go back to his phone and see five missed calls from her. She was sweet but even Charlie knew that she could get a bit too worried if he didn’t pick up straight away. 

“No, you didn’t.”

“Unless I’ve caught you when you’re off to destress,” she said it with a tone of voice that she meant something more dirty. 

“I mean, we are gonna have a cookout tonight.”

He heard her clap over the phone and pulled it away from his ear. “You should make my potato salad recipe.”

“I don’t think there’s time for that mom.”

“It doesn’t take that long, just boil the potatoes, let them cool then add mayo and-”

He sighed. “It’s not that kind of a cookout mom.”

“You are a fighter pilot, sweetie, you cannot survive on a diet of beer and hot dogs, you need to look after yourself.”

Phoenix mouthed her words back to him with a snear. He just gave her his middle finger and turned his back. 

“I will, Mom, I promise.”

“You’re always talking about how bad Navy food is-”

“I know-”

“So you can’t blame me if I want my baby boy to eat well now he’s on dry land and has a chance to eat better-”

“Mom, listen, if I promise to bring a salad, will it give you peace of mind?”

She paused for a moment, then said. “Fine, but when you’re home you’re living off my cooking, young man, alright?”

“Yes, now Mom, I have to go.”

“Already? I haven’t even asked you about your day yet.”

He looked at the tarmac. “You know it’s all classified, Momma.”

He didn’t tend to call her that around other aviators. Any embarrassing information about you and they were like vultures ripping you to shreds. But he missed her and really wanted to tell her about this amazing new opportunity for his career, but just couldn’t. And he hated it. 

“Fine, I’ll just get Charlie to do some snooping for me.”

“Mom-”

“She has security clearance you know, sweetie, she can let it slip by accident if needs be.”

He laughed. “You know that’s not how that works, right?”

“It could be?” She left a gap then said with less of a laugh. “Alright then, I’ll let you get back to your life, I love you.”

“Love you, Momma. Say hi to Charlie for me.”

“Will do.”

The line went dead and he turned to face snickering from Phoenix and Hangman. His stomach dropped. It was very rare for them to be in agreement about something. He knew exactly what it was. 

“How’s the MILF, I mean, Mom, Rooster?”

“She’s fine.” He deadpanned. “And don’t call my mom a MILF.”

“Can’t deny the truth.”

“It’s not true.”

Hangman placed a hand on his chest. “You’d insult your own mother like that?”

“It’s not an insult if I’m saying I don’t think my mom is fuckable, she’s my mom, right Phoenix?”

Phoenix did not reply. 

“Oh, come on, not you too?”

“You know my type, Roo.”

He put his hand on his hip. “And my mom is your type?”

“She’s a MILF Bradley, a mom I’d like to fuck, and I wouldn’t mind, given the opportunity?”

He huffed and carried on walking to his car. “What opportunity? She’s getting married.”

“A shame.” Hangman said, following him. 

“For you, not me.”

They stopped. Hangman’s familiar grin shone in the sun. He could see it reflected in Phoenix’s aviators. 

“And why’s that?”

“Charlie’s a lesbian, so why you may not a chance, I, as a woman, do.”

Rooster couldn’t help but drop his head into his hands. “No one is going to fuck my moms, okay?” He then looked up to see Payback and Fanboy seeming very confused. “Please back me up here.”

“Can’t do that without seeing them.”

“You can, you can definitely back me up because they’re talking about fucking my mom and her fiancee.”

Phoenix had already whipped out her phone and gotten his mum’s instagram up. A picture of her and Charlie was at the top. It was of them at one of the wedding venues they were looking at, a rather picturesque old church in Baltimore. 

“Oh, no, man I’m with them.” Payback said. 

“No!”

“It’s not our fault your mothers are very attractive,” Fanboy added. 

In the chaos, none of them noticed Admiral Bradshaw approaching from the other end of the parking lot. As soon as they spotted him they broke out of it and stood to look a lot more professional. 

“Who’s mother’s are attractive?” He said. 

“Rooster’s, sir.” Hangman told him, of fucking course he would. 

He didn’t reply, which wasn’t good, but the fact that they weren’t being reprimanded was a good sign too. “If this is going to cause such disparity on base then I think I, as an Admiral, should have the final say.”

This was not fucking happening. Where had this Admiral come from? How had he even made it to Admiral if this was the shit he pulled? 

Hangman got his phone out and found a picture of Carole. He was loving this, Bradley could tell. 

After a moment of stroking his moustache, and scanning it like it was a wanted poster, he stood back and said. “She is, as much as a married man can say, attractive. Although she looks quite familiar, so maybe she just has one of those faces.”

No. Fucking. Way. 

“Now, back to work.” He said and carried on to his car. 

Hangman turned to him, his grin wider than the cheshire cat’s. “So it’s official, your mom’s a MILF, even Admiral Bradshaw agrees.”

This day could not get any weirder. 

Thanks for being patient with this chapter, things are taking me longer to write because I keep waiting for motivation that doesn't come but I saw a tiktok about "dedication over motivation" or something like that and it did help me. If I can consistently write then it will become easier, also I can always edit stuff but like the famous phrase goes "you can't edit a blank page".

Anyway, I never thought that a debate over Carole being a MILF would be integral to the plot but here we are. There was originally a bit more to this but that's going in the next chapter.

[missgryffin]

big, /big/ sigh. 

Hi, friends. This is not a post I ever thought I'd make, but since I've been dealing with some behind-the-scenes harassment and another author has posted a tangent of false statements about me, I feel compelled to at least set the record straight and tell you my side.

After @maraudersftw voluntarily stepped in to take over @jilyawards, she tapped me to help with redesigning the JA blog and making the graphics to accompany all the typical posts. Claudia retained sole access to the Awards Google account, was the only person actively running the blog/answering asks, and was the only one keeping up with processing nominations. Neither of us would be voting. I was also intending to decline certain nominations if others made them. All of this was communicated to the author in question.

The only goal here was to move forward with the Jily Awards in as healing and empathetic way possible for everyone. I gave my opinion regarding the decision to not have the dark!James trope in the Awards, yes—as did many others—but it was not my final call to make. Much, much consideration went into that decision, and I stand by it fully. (If anyone wants to discuss my thoughts on that further, I am more than happy to chat over DM.)

When the decision was finalized, I informed an author who has a work that would not be eligible, as the work was and currently remains tagged for "dark!Jily," "Death Eater Lily," and "evil Lily Evans." Obviously, this is a tough conversation to have. We both were affected by the reckoning over dark!Jily/DE James this past spring, and though I knew she would disagree with the decision, I expected to have a civil conversation and hoped to reach a point of understanding.

I discussed our rationale at length, as did Claudia. We explained repeatedly that this was not a "punishment." This is the Jily Awards equivalent of the prior conversation and agreement to tag dark fanfic as "dark!Jily" so as to remove it from the "Jily" tag, where many members of the community voiced valid concerns over being unable to avoid content they found triggering and deeply offensive, despite their best efforts to do so. All of this was communicated to the author in question.

Several hours later, the work in question was updated, along with a corresponding Tumblr post, stating that multiple dark!Jily fan fictions were eligible in the Awards and tagging the Jily Awards Tumblr account, bringing the advertisement to our attention. I confronted the author about this post and requested she take down the misrepresenting language. To date, she has not done so. I shared the conversation with Claudia, and great care went into drafting a post that would correct any misunderstanding without singling out the author (which would have been embarrassing and unnecessary). All of this was communicated to the author in question.

Not long after that, more public/internet harassment started, and I blocked the author in question. Yesterday, on Halloween (the last day of Jily Awards eligibility), the author in question posted the first chapter of a long-hyped, non-dark, Muggle AU story. Unable to reach me otherwise, the story opened with an Author's Note that was a message directed at me. A few hours later, the story was deleted. Had the story remained up, it would have obviously been eligible for the Awards, so why it was deleted remains unclear.

The subsequent behavior of the author in question led to the decision to halt the Awards.

Friends, I am the first one to advocate for DLDR. I dabbled in the DE!James trope, even if my James was really an undercover good guy all along. I believe that fiction does not equal reality, and that creators have every right to explore dark themes and tropes within fiction. I do not, and have never, judged, shamed, or ridiculed any author or reader for engaging with dark fic. I have said all of this before. But I ALSO believe in being a good community member. Community requires listening. Community requires compromise. When people come to you and say, This trope is actually deeply offensive and triggering to me and others, and here's why, ignoring that and continuing to blast that content into community/gen spaces where they can't avoid it (like the Awards) isn't just irresponsible, it's downright cruel.

It's okay to write content that's not for everyone. (I do.) It's okay to have gen fandom Tumblr events that celebrate a ship and exclude fringe content that is not representative of that ship as it's canonically known and sought. It's okay to have gen fandom Tumblr events that celebrate a ship and exclude fringe content that fandom members have expressly stated causes offense and hurt. That is not censorship—that's having a party and setting a menu that's considerate of known dietary restrictions. ***It's not personal. It's a simple respect of community boundaries.*** And maybe boundaries for triggering topics were not always brought up or addressed in prior Awards, but we all know they were brought up after last year's, and under Claudia's leadership and with my help and support, they damn well were going to be respected now.

All of this was communicated to the author in question.

The insinuation that I was trying to "remove the competition" or however it was phrased is so unhinged it's honestly laughable. This is about so, so much more than just getting a cute little Canva-designed card with your name on it. (That's the part that's simply meant to be fun.) It goes without saying, but had the Awards continued, I would have had no qualms about removing myself and my stories from consideration entirely. The engagement I get from readers enjoying stories with me is more than enough; any nomination nod or cute little Canva-designed card, while of course much appreciated, is the icing on top.

I understand that I'm the current target of a lot of vitriolic anger because I was the messenger. I've obviously taken measures to digitally protect myself, including turning off asks entirely. If you actually believe what the author in question said about me, I don't care to hear about it. If you don't like me, I don't care to hear about it. I'm here to write and vibe about Jily.

Maybe the fandom—fractured and traumatized as it is—wasn't ready for this. We wanted to try.

post script: To tHe pErsOn I knOw is rEadiNg tHis riGHt nOw:

[groovemaster10000]

I finished tallstar's revenge last night and I gotta say that definitely lived up to the hype. I kinda dropped out of the series in 2010 and only really picked it up again in 2020 and that was one of the ones I'd been looking forward to reading the most ever since getting back into warriors. That was a really good outsider in the clan story, and very different from other outsiders in the clan stories we've had, so I loved that about it. Tallstar and Jake are absolutely precious. I completely get why everyone loves them. I've also always just eaten up stories about the emptiness of revenge. Also they really had me going for a sec, when Sparrow started to fall off the cliff at the end of the chapter I put the book down in shock, I thought he just died there and I had to sit there processing that for a few minutes before I kept reading and saw he was alive.

But like, I was fully convinced the book was gonna go the direction of Tallstar learning to forgive only for Sparrow to still die and for him to have to live with that. Tallstar having to face the visitors and tell them what happened. Having to convince Jake it really was an accident. I liked the way it went fine, and honestly it might've been a bit too heavy if Sparrow did die, but also I think the fact that I saw that as a serious possibility is a testament to the writing.

There were also a few things in the book that just really hit close to home for me. Having moved across the country a few years ago and being on my own the first time, the way they describe the feeling of homesickness really resonated with me. Also just the whole experience of he and Jake having to say goodbye to each other.

[that-weird-skeleton-bastard]

Rushing things: Chapter one

(since the vast majority of you voted for it, here's the first + second episodes of my smut/domestic fluff papyton fanfic! the rest of it is on Ao3 if you wanna read ahead ^^)

The 3-part movie saga

A year... It has already been a year since Frisk freed the monsters from the underground.

It has been a year that Frisk has been going left and right (with the help of their friends), signing papers and going to meetings, so that a peace treaty could be put in place.

so that monsters could live with humans in harmony.

Of course, there's still some jackasses around that doesn't like the fact that times are changing, but a surprising amount of humans accepted monsters as their own.

Toriel and Undyne became teachers at the local elementary school, Toriel teaching science and Undyne being the PE coach. Meanwhile Grillby, Muffet, Temmie, and all the other merchants set up shop around the city, being more or less successful. Asgore and Alphys had time to reconnect and hang out. Sans, well, didn't changed much, still getting caught slacking all the time, but at least he's supposed to have a job at Grillby's. And Frisk, despite being the ambassador of monsters, still went to school, and was generally a normal kid.

So, here we are, in a warm beach city, in the middle of March, and a trying-to-be-silent hype was rumbling throughout the city: a three-part movie saga featuring loved human actors and the newest star from the underground, Mettaton, was rumoured to come out in a few weeks. Humans never heard of this man, but according to the few dozen monsters that had seen his movies, he was really good at it. And Papyrus, being his number 1 fan was stoked, having already pre-ordered tickets to all three movies and waiting impatiently for the release.

Well, the actor, meanwhile... WAS SHAKING IN HIS HIGH HEEL BOOTS. OMG, BEING A HUMAN STAR IS SO MUCH MORE STRESSFUL THAN HE HAD THOUGHT! Of course, he still had fun, y'know? He got to travel to wonderful places and meet renowned actors, but it wasn't done in an instant. He thought he was so shiny, but human stars shone 100 times as bright, so he had to fight for his career. And Well... it did pay off, with the whole 3-part saga and all that, but.... The part he was given was humiliating, the plot was based on an overused trope, and in the long run, said plot didn't even make sense anymore. And the "main character" was an asshole, who you were supposed to simply forgive because "TrAgIc BaCkStOrY". In the very few scenes where Mettaton actually showed up, it simply was the worst: because, of course, it happened in a fuCKING STRIP CLUB. THAT'S RIGHT, METTATON'S PART WAS BEING A ✨ROBOT STRIPPER✨ GREAT. AWESOME. AMAZING METTATON'S FIRST BIG ROLE IN A HUMAN MOVIE AND HE ALREADY RUINED HIS WHOLE IMAGE. So, here he was, watching the final cuts of the filming with the other actors before it was sent out to the editor, and he was on the verge of tears. THIS is how humans are gonna remember him: as the actor who played that stupid blocky robot exotic dancer that turns against the MC and gets killed off like nothing just to show how strong the MC was. At least, the good part of all this is that Napstablook worked on the soundtrack, and they fully agree with Mettaton: This whole saga is a trash heap.

He only stayed for filming for a few weeks but it felt like it was years since he last saw Alphys, so, as soon as he wasn't needed anymore, he immediately took the first train back to that little beach city on the western coast, to see his friend.

When Mettaton showed up to her door, Alphys nearly choked on her soda and apologised profusely for not wearing anything other that a loose t-shirt and pink boxers. When MTT came inside the apartment, she was now apologising for the mess, but he didn't mind in the slightest: after spending so much time cooped up in a 5 stars hotel on the other side of the country, Alphys and Undyne's place was a very welcome mess, and he knows she'll never judge him for unwinding.

So he did just that: he took off his heels and made himself comfy on the large couch in the main room. Seeing the robot sigh dramatically as he spread himself on the sofa, Alphys asked: 《- R-rough filming session, buddy? - It's not that, Alphys darling, it's just that I might as well quit the movie-making business right now after THAT FIASCO! - H-HUH? W-what happened?? - Oh I don't wanna bore you with it... (please insist on hearing it Alphy.) - *sigh* Mettaton, can you please tell me what happen- - IT WAS HORRIBLE, HONEY, HORRIBLE ! THAT MOVIE IS GARBAGE, AND I'M NOT EVEN ON THE COVER ART OR EVEN THE TRAILER ! yelled Mettaton while wildly shaking Alphys. - WhOoAAAH METTA CALM DOWN !! Pleaded the reptile as she felt the motion sickness kicking in. I'm sure it's not THAT bad!!》 All it needed was Mettaton showing her the early release version of the first movie (that the producer oh-so-kindly gifted him with a weird flirty wink) for Alphys to look at MTT with pity in her eyes. 《- damn. It IS that bad. - I KNOOOOW!!! He cried out, while dark oily tears were streaming down his midi-pad-shaped face. - I'm s-sorry man, i-i can't do anything about that, I don't have the power to just, delete a movie from existence (because if I did, I already would've done it the moment the main character stole that precious locket without feeling any kind of remorse, and not giving it back, and not having any kind of redemption for it.) - I know. Said Mettaton between two sobs. My career in the human has barely took off, and it's already going down in flames... - Metta, said Alphys, picking her words carefully, that movie may be absolute trash but not only is it your very first movie on the surface but just because you had one bad performance d-doesn't mean you're not gonna have more chances later.》 And she got up to fetch tissues for him.

While she was gone, Mettaton reflected on those words, but they didn't sooth his worries, because he KNOWS he will be disappointing his long-term fans AND painting a very ugly image of monsters for all humans to see.

Half an hour later, the floor was already littered in crumpled oily tissues as MTT was venting to Alphys. Seeing him like this, made Alphys think about the ghost inside the robot. A dissatisfied little ghost who's biggest dream was to be a star. "No, it WILL NOT end like that, Alphys thought to herself, I'll tell that producer to cancel that movie!.. or w-well ask someone to do it... it's so crazy it might just work!.. or it's just straight up crazy and it will end in a disaster- NO stop thinking like that Alphys!" 《-Metta! - hmm?! Yes? Asked MTT slightly startled by the sudden raise of volume. - I'll get that movie cancelled!! I-if you want it to be... - Alphys, darling, I appreciate the gesture but there's no way in hell that you have enough influence to pull this off. - Well, I'll try anyway! M-maybe if I show how bad this movie is to our friends, they would back us up! She added, trying her best to sound confident. - mmm... perhaps... Replied the robot. But I'm still sceptical about this plan, honey. - D-don't worry! I know exactly who to text! Your number 1 fan!》 And Alphys bolted to her room to get her phone.

"Huh, my number 1 fan? MTT said in the back of his mind. And Alphys knows them close enough to have their number? Who could that possibly be??" When Alphys came back, her phone texting app was open to a chat titled "Papyrus"

Papyrus... The name alone didn't mean anything to Mettaton. However, when he saw the profile picture of the person Alphys was texting ("pretty awkwardly and overly apologetic" he thought) it finally clicked: That wacky skeleton he saw a year prior, just before they exited the underground... He was his biggest fan..? Seriously?

《- Hey, Alphys dear, how do you know this guy? - O-oh, he's Undyne best friend. He sometimes comes here. They both like to "cook" together. And by "cook" I mean that they like to destroy ingredients with their fists and almost burn down the apartment complex. - Sounds like my kind of cooking~♡ - why do you think you've never been in the same room as them-

A-anyways, he's still a pretty cool dude, he has a heart of gold under all his goofiness... I actually think you two could be friends. - Yeah yeah yeah right, gimme that phone Alphys, you're taking ages. Stated Mettaton impatiently as he snatched the cute pink phone from her chubby clawed hands.》

Stood fully upright with his new legs, Mettaton was a good few feet taller than Alphys and he fully used that to keep the phone out of her reach as he texted Papyrus himself:

Mettaton here, hello darling, I have a problem with the upcoming movie saga, would you like to help me?

ALPHYS ARE PRANKING ME? =_=

...Well, it's true that in a situation like that, where you're chatting with your friend and all of a second, your favourite celebrity texts you via the same chat, it's understandable to think they're messing with you, but Mettaton was too impatient to care, and instead went into face-time.

Papyrus's reaction to seeing him face to face surely was something: He was whisper-screaming as quiet as he could while wildly shaking and waving the hand he wasn't using to hold his phone. His excitement was barely contained, and, honestly, that was the cutest reaction Mettaton had ever seen.

As soon as Papyrus managed to calm down a bit, the robot started to explain the situation to him. The skeleton was eagerly listening to Mettaton, until his face fell when MTT told him how awful the upcoming saga was. 《- WAIT, IS IT REALLY THAT BAD? - Yes, darling, so if I were you, I'd ask for a refund on my ticket preorder. - BUT I WANTED TO SEE HOW GREAT YOUR NEXT MOVIE WAS GONNA BE... said Papyrus sadly. For some reason, seeing this man sad was unbearable for MTT, so he quickly added - W-well how about, you get a refund, and I'll simply come to see you in person to cheer you up? His face instantly lit up again at the suggestion. -REALLY?? Papyrus said, his voice rising a few octaves. Y-YOU'D DO THAT? FOR ME?? - Of course, honey, I'm very generous! (Meanwhile in his mind, Mettaton was screaming and melting over this cutie before him.) - OK, SO IS TOMORROW AROUND 11:00 AM ALRIGHT? I HAVE TO DROP OFF FRISK TO SCHOOL AT 8:30, BUT AFTER THAT I'M COMPLETELY FREE! AND IF YOU WANT YOU COULD ALSO STICK AROUND FOR LUNCH! Suggested Papyrus without catching his breath. - Oh uhhh... T-that sounds perfect! And, since I don't have anything else to do, I'll gladly stay for lunch! - GREAT! I'LL BE EXPECTING YOU AT 11:00! OH BOY I CAN'T WAIT TO SEE YOU IN PERSON! SEE YOU, METTATON! - oh, see you too darling!》 And he hung up.

Chapter two:

The first hangout.

Whu- What just happened?

They called Mettaton's biggest fan to tell him to back him up to get the movie saga cancelled... and then... he managed to plan to hang out with a guy he met only once..?

Mettaton had completely forgotten about the plan when talking to Papyrus, and only remembered it when Alphys pointed it out.

Welp, at least they could ask other fans and friends to help them get the movies cancelled, and that's what they did: the two friends spent the rest of the evening calling and texting friends and family to tell them about the issue. Of course it still wasn't nearly enough, and Mettaton was aware of that, but... he had trouble focusing on the task at hand when he had that meeting with that skeleton tomorrow. And then, tomorrow came.

Mettaton woke up to the official poster of the saga literally EVERYWHERE: on billboards, as paper posters glued on the street, as side ads on every websites he checked... it was a nightmare. But thankfully his friends responded to the texts saying that will be backing him up 100%! What a relief- wait.

What time is it? 10:47 AM, motherfucker~ <3 F u c k

Mettaton ran to his wardrobe to take the outfit he prepared, flipped his switch in a hurry and dressed up as quickly as he could (while also trying to not wrinkle the pretty red suit he picked)

Mmm... should he take the prerelease movie CD with him?... Probably... since he still needs to get Papyrus on board with the plan, and showing just how God awful this movie is would be a great way to convince him (in theory).

As soon as he was fully dressed, MTT took the CD case and ran to his car, when it hit him that he didn't know where Papyrus lived, so he had to call Alphys to ask her, which took longer than he wanted because Alphys refused to pick up, so he had to TEXT her, which got an answer much quicker but now Mettaton only had 6 minutes to get there on time. (When I tell you that MTT's car FLEW over the highway-)

At least he wasn't TOO late, only a few minutes but he still got there around the time he was asked to come. After parking his car not too far from the building Papyrus lived in, Mettaton walked toward the front door before noticing that the skeleton was standing there, waiting. When their eyes met, Papyrus's whole face lit up and he ran up to Mettaton.

Before he knew it, the robot was tackled in a tight hug, so earnest and warm, as if they've known each other since childhood, then Papyrus pulled back his head and looked up at Mettaton with his eyes sparkling with excitement, before letting go. That passionate welcome was unexpected (and it wrinkled Mettaton's suit a bit) but he didn't mind, it made his cheeks and chest feel so warm... Why was he here again?.. Oh right, the plan! The plan to ask the director to cancel the movie! MTT was about to bring it up, when Papyrus spoke up: 《- SO, METTATON, DO YOU WANNA COME IN? - Oh yes, we should probably get inside to... do whatever to pass the time I guess... - WELL I PREPARED A LITTLE SOMETHING, I HOPE YOU'LL LIKE IT!》

Papyrus and Sans's apartment was pretty humble, but it had a certain coziness to it, and, unlike Undyne and Alphys's, it was tidy. As soon as they entered, Papyrus dashed to his room, telling Mettaton to make himself at home. So he sat down on the couch and waited for the homeowner to come back, while using that time to fix his suit.

But when Papyrus came back, that nice red suit was clearly overkill, as he was in a comfy bunny onesie, carrying a few fluffy blankets and pillows over his shoulder, and holding dvd cases in his free hand.

....a sleepover??...

This man had the unique opportunity to spend time with his favourite celebrity... and he planed a SLEEPOVER??? IN THE MIDDLE OF THE DAY??

...Mettaton had to admit to himself that it was a pretty ballsy move, and Papyrus was clearly fully confident doing it, so he had to appreciate his boldness.

Anyway, Papyrus was setting down the blankets and pillows on the couch (that he deployed in bed mode) while his guest was watching, feeling overdressed for this whole charade. However, the skeleton did not appear to mind in the slightest that Mettaton was dressed so formal for such a casual occasion, instead he asked him to choose what movie he wanted to watch while he went in the kitchen to grab some snacks.

The movie selection was... original: "Peekaboo with a fluffy bunny: the movie", "little kitty discovers the world", "Dr funkenstein", "the upside-down river"... Yup, all of these were children's movies.

In the end, Mettaton chose the last one, as it seemed to be the least childish, and as Papyrus came back with multiple bags of chips and a bottle of unnaturally purple soda, he confessed that "THAT MOVIE ALWAYS MAKES ME CRY..."

Curtains were drawn and blinds were closed, the skeleton made himself comfy on the couch, and finally pressed "play" on the remote. Actually, that movie was much more enticing than MTT had first thought, and soon enough, he understood why it made Papyrus cry every time, as he was tearing up himself. During a particularly heartbreaking scene, Mettaton swore he felt the skeleton, who was also crying heavily, getting closer to him and resting his head on his shoulder.

"Oh. Oh my..." He thought, as he felt the heat rising to his cheeks and his mechanical heart pounding in his chest.

At first, Mettaton was unsure about it, but right at that moment, it was... nice. Watching this bittersweet children's movie, gorging on chips and soda, while laying on a comfy couch filled with pillows and blankets... and with such good company too... And the end of the movie came, and the curtains and blinds were opened once more, letting the blinding midday light in. (Now that they could see eachothers faces, both of them had puffy, red eyes and humid cheeks from crying so much.)

Well it was now 13:30, guess Mettaton did stay until lunch.

《- HEY METTATON, DO YOU WANT TO HELP ME COOK? Asked Papyrus while cleaning up the chips packets. - Gladly! Answered the robot, chipper.》

After Papyrus went in his room to change back to his main outfit, the two started cooking spaghetti, the skeleton's self-proclaimed specialty, however it quickly dawned on MTT that he wasn't... that great of a chef. Lots of rookie mistakes that made him cringe inside. Every time the host made a mistake, Mettaton tried his best to gently tell him he was messing up, to Papyrus's surprise.

After an hour of trial and error (and wasted spaghetti, r.i.p) they managed to make the best spaghetti both of them ever made, and, much to Mettaton's shock, the only spaghetti that Papyrus ACTUALLY ATE IN HIS LIFE.

Afterwards, Mettaton realised he stayed for over 3 hours, and didn't even bring up the plan, so, he mentioned it -more awkwardly than he would've wanted- and added that he brought the first movie of the saga.

《- WOWIE,BUT I THOUGHT YOU DIDN'T WANT ME TO WATCH IT? - W-well it is trash. But would you like to see just HOW TRASH that movie is? Asked Mettaton with a tone of challenge. - ...I'LL GO GET MY ONESIE. responded Papyrus with determined smirk.》

Back on the couch, back his bunny onesie, and this time, Mettaton also being in a onesie (a grey tabby cat one that Papyrus lended him), they started the film... and the skeleton immediately fell asleep once it was clear that Mettaton wouldn't appear in the rest of the movie, and, of course, he fell asleep on the robot himself, who's body temp rose like Jesus on the third day.

It was hard focusing on the movie when this lovable dork was snoozing so cutely in the crook of his armpit.

But Mettaton came to a realisation while watching this movie for the god-knows-what time: Maybe Alphys was right, this movie is pretty bad, and the other two are no better, but they are just that... bad, boring movies. Maybe Mettaton was overreacting...

He looked at his phone, and at all his friends, family and fans who are willing to back him up... And at the trailer ads for the saga on his socials...

Maybe he should just let this movie come out and let people see how bad it is... And before he knew it, he fell asleep as well, holding Papyrus close...

(what even is pacing lmao)

anyway, tell me if you want to see more, or simply if you liked it! seeing nice little things being said about my creations always makes me happy ^^

[starboybutler]

Swing Down, Sweet Chariot Ch. 1 | Deke Rivers X Walter Hale

THIS STORY IS 18+. MINORS DNI.

(ch. 2 here.)

summary: walter hale spots a young talent at a bar one night, and decides to offer him a job.

word count: 5184

tws: alcohol consumption, age difference, smut, frottage, blowjobs

notes: i posted this on ao3 a while ago, and recently uploaded the second chapter, so i'm posting it here as well. this is one of my longer stories, so i hope you all enjoy 🫶🏽

︶꒦ ꒷ ✦ ꒷ ꒦︶

girls were nothing but trouble.

walter learned that the hard way. he always had girls all over him, whining and begging him for something, and it was starting to get old. sure, dealing with women was his job, in a sense, but they could have had a little dignity when they came up to him.

of course, it wasn't just women. walter hated anyone whiny. it was annoying and unbecoming. he doesn't know how he managed to get stuck with the whiniest people on the planet wherever he went, but they always seemed to just follow him. after that whole fiasco with the murder of that old pharmacist, he decided to quit his job for a bit, and just relax on his own.

that mainly consisted of going to bars, listening to whatever act they were presenting that night, drinking until he was a little bit tipsy, and going to a hotel to sleep it off. sometimes he found himself a women to sleep with- just for the hell of it.

if he was being completely honest, he didn't feel anything for women anymore. with the whole incident that had just happened, he’d been staying away from any type of serious relationship. he never liked to get serious with anyone anyway, as he found it to be too burdening to his psyche.

but he still slept with the women, mostly out of obligation. he didn't want to turn them down and get spit on and called a fairy, so he indulged them. he would crawl into bed with them, lick them between the legs, let them get him off, and be on his way. it was a tiring cycle, but it didn't bother him none.

the bar he had chosen was a little more crowded than the others, and they were all watching the stage intently, waiting for the performances to finish so they could get to the main act.

walter would watch the performances, but he wouldn't make much noise. he enjoyed the background noise, and sometimes the music had a nice beat to it, but he never found himself hyped up. probably because he never drank to the point where he got fully drunk.

the second to last act left the stage, and a short, stout old man hobbled up to the microphone stand to announce the next act.

it was just one kid, from some midwestern town. his name was deke rivers, the crowd cheered as the old man made his way off stage, and the young man stepped into the spotlights.

he was certainly different from all the other acts. everyone else was either a small country band, a jokester, some showgirls, or god know what. but this kid, it was just him and his guitar.

his outfit was nice too. jeans and a jean jacket, accompanied by a blue button up underneath. his hair was black and longer than most men would consider having it, and his eyes were blue like the ocean.

walter found himself facing the stage fully, his eyes unable to leave the boy.

the boy greeted the crowd, and began strumming his guitar mindlessly, before setting it aside. the crowd cheered, and the boy began to dance in a way that walter had never seen before.

his legs were moving this way and that, his hips jerking to the music as he bounced up and down entrancingly. a few strands of stray hair fell down onto his forehead, swaying as he danced. it was hypnotic, almost.

walter had worked in show business for some time- and he had never seen anything like this. sure, girls could wiggle and shake all they wanted, but that was choreographed- in sync. the way this boy was dancing was natural, not planned at all. it was unique, and walter was loving every second.

he didn't know if it was the showman in him, or if he was just actually enjoying it to enjoy it. but either way, the boy had him in a trance. the music was catching his ear as well, the beat lively and the lyrics catchy.

‘So baby, time's a wasting

A lot of kisses I ain't been tasting

I don't know about you but I'm gonna get my share

Oh got a lot o' living to do’

the crowd began to clap along, bopping their heads to the music and cheering as the boy’s energy only seemed to grow. he jumped from the stage, into the a clearing in the middle of the crowd, and spun and snapped and wiggled like he would never do it again.

the crowd watched him with glee, some ladies having to be held back from jumping on him. walter was fascinated at how he had this effect on so many people- women and men alike. he was different, so energetic and happy, he was living in the moment and no one could stop him.

‘A whole lot o' loving to do

Come on baby, to make a party takes two

Oh yes I've got a lot o' living to do

A whole lot o' loving to do

And there's no one who I'd rather do it with-a than you

And there's no one who I'd rather do it with-a than you

And there's no one who I'd rather do it with-a than you’

the song came to and end and the crowd erupted as the boy went back on stage and bowed his way out, escaping backstage.

as he disappeared behind the curtain, walter felt a twinge of disappointment. that show was the first thing to get his attention in a long, long time- and now that it was over, he was left with all of his feelings again.

he needed to see that boy again.

he stood up and made his way towards the backstage area, taking a drag of his cigar. he reached the entrance to the backstage area and looked the bouncer in the eye.

“let me back, i wanna talk to that deke rivers kid,” he said simply, flicking away some of the ashes from the tip of his cigar.

“a lot of people do.” the bouncer said, rolling his shoulders. “i can't let you back, i’m sorry.”

“it’s on business,” walter said, placing his cigar back in his mouth. “i’m a showman. i run a little thing here and there, i wanna recruit the kid.”

“sir-”

“do i need to show you my card or somethin’?” walter sighed, getting annoyed. the bouncer was beginning to get nervous, and he finally moved out of the way, giving walter access to the back.

“j-just go in.”

“about time.” he muttered, turning the corner.

the backstage area was fairly small, and it didn't take him long to find the room he was looking for. the writing on the sign was messy, but walter could make it out well enough.

walter knocked on the door, tucking a hand in his pocket and waiting for the boy to answer the door. there was rustling, and then the door opened slowly.

there stood the boy from the stage, except this time his jean jacket was gone, and his button up was halfway unbuttoned. the boy’s eyes looked up at walter curiously, blinking.

“oh, hello,” he said, his southern drawl heavy. his eyes were as blue as ever, his skin glistening with sweat. a thought zipped through walter’s brain, but he pushed it away quickly as he straightened his posture.

“i saw your performance,” he started, smiling crookedly. “it was real captivating, and i normally hate bar performances.” he admits, reaching his hand out. “i’m walter. walter hale.”

deke reaches out and takes his hand a bit warily, his eyes slightly confused as he returns walter’s firm handshake. “i’m deke. rivers.”

“i know,” walter hums, releasing deke’s hand. “i know you're probably confused, but i’m here for a good reason, i promise,” walter chuckles.

“and what's that?”

“i think you're real talented,” the older man says simply, taking his cigar between his fingers. “very talented. you don't deserve to be performin’ at a bar.”

“oh, well,” deke says, shrugging his shoulders. “i don't mind it. crowd loves me all the same. at least people wanna watch me, you know?”

walter finds himself smiling at the young man’s attitude. he was obviously fine with not having much, and walter could see the appeal in living like that. sometimes too much could lead to too many problems.

“that's fair,” walter hummed, flicking out his cigar. “but don't you at least wanna perform at a nicer bar?”

deke thought about it for a second, and licked his lips. “this one is kinda run down, ain’t it?” deke chuckled, looking around.

walter laughed, placing his cigar back in his mouth. “well, ‘run down’ is being a little nice,” he hums, smirking softly.

deke chuckles, licking his lips and leaning against the doorframe. “so, if i agree to do business with you, what will you do exactly?”

“well,” walter hums, adjusting his suit jacket. “i’ve ran a show before, it's not too hard to secure a show at a bar with a higher reputation.” he explains. “i’m a little well known, so i could easily get you some nice gigs,”

“well known, huh?” deke hums, smiling slightly. “if that's true, what makes you interested in little ol’ me?”

walter hummed. truth is, he didn't particularly know, but it was something about this boy that attracted him. his charisma, his energy- something. he just knew he couldn't let his boy slip from his grasp, and never see him again. he wanted to keep him close.

“somethin’ about your performance,” walter started, running a hand along his thigh. “it entranced me. i dunno if it was the way you were movin’, or the way your voice rang out,” he sighed, recalling the performance in his mind. “but it was completely different.”

deke was staring at walter with large eyes, his expression unreadable as walter finished his little rant and looked back down at him. walter spoke again.

“so, i just wanna take this opportunity before anyone else,” walter hums. “what do you say?”

the young man swallowed, his eyes drifting away from walter as he scratched at the back of his neck and chuckled shyly.

“w-well shucks, mister hale,” he chuckled, eyes fixed on the wall behind the other man. “i don't think i’ve ever been complimented like that before,”

a blush rose on the boys cheeks, and walter felt a fond smile rise on his lips.

“jeez, kid,” walter teased, waving a hand. “save all that for the girls you bring to your room at night.” he muttered. he couldn't deny that the boy was cute when he blushed, but that's not why he was here.

deke laughed, running a hand through his greasy hair. “you're right.” he sighs, before jerking a thumb back towards his dressing room. “wanna talk over a drink? i got a couch in here,”

walter shrugged, entering the boy’s dressing room and sitting on the small couch. deke closed the door and walked over to his vanity, grabbing two glasses and a bottle of whiskey, obviously complimentary from the bar.

deke handed walter a glass, and he took it gracefully, smiling as the boy poured the whiskey into his glass. he swished the small glass around and took a drink, humming at the burn. deke poured himself a bit as well, looking at the glass a bit hesitantly.

walter saw the look on his face and raised an eyebrow. “do you drink at all?”

deke shrugged, swirling the whiskey around. “uhm, not much. i’m a lightweight.” he admits, placing down the bottle. “i can get a little…embarrassing when i’m drunk.”

walter chuckles, taking another sip. “that's why it's important to know your limit.” he says, setting down his glass. “when i go to a bar, i only drink about four glasses so i get tipsy, but not drunk.”

“you an embarrassing drunk too?” deke asks.

walter snorts, crossing one of his legs over the other. “that's one word for it.”

the boy huffs out a chuckle and sits next to him, setting his glass down on the small table as well. he places his hands on his knees, rubbing at the fabric of his jeans nervously.

“you really thought my performance was that good?” he asks meekly, a smile on his lips.

“absolutely.” walter says, looking at deke. “never seen anything like that before,” he says, smiling softly. “where’d you learn to move like that?”

deke chuckles, looking away again as a soft blush rose on his cheeks. “well, y’know…just things i saw growin’ up.”

walter leans forward, curiously. “like…”

deke sighs, his head falling back. he looks at deke from the side of his eye, smiling meekly. “strippers,”

another thought ran through walter’s brain, but this time, let it linger a little longer. a dirty, dirty thought. he shook it away and blinked at the boy, a bit surprised.

“that's certainly…interesting.”

“yeah,” he huffs, laughing slightly. “it's a long story, y’know.” he mutters, reaching for his glass of whiskey. he took a rather large drink, obviously embarrassed by his confession. deke’s face immediately twisted up at the taste, coughing at the burn in his throat.

walter chuckled as he scrambled for a water, drinking it hurriedly in an attempt to soothe the burn.

“never had whiskey?” walter asked in a teasing tone.

“no,” deke admits, rubbing at his chest. “just beer.”

“well, that whiskey might hit you a little hard,” he warns, drinking the rest of his with ease. he was worried a bit inwardly, as that made his sixth glass of the night, and he was already feeling a little tipsy.

deke waved him off, settling back onto the couch. “i’ll be fine.” he reassures, adjusting his shirt. “now, if i’m gonna work for you, how much am i gonna be workin’?”

“the days you work are completely up to you,” walter says, leaning back. “you choose your off days.”

“okay,” deke hummed, nodding. “i like that,”

walter hummed. “why, you got a special girl at home?” he asks, leaning onto his hand.

“oh, me?” deke asks, shaking his head. “no sir, i live alone in a little cabin. i don't have a girl.”

“really?” walter hums, surprised. “well, that's one less thing for me to worry about.”

“what about you?” deke asks.

“what about me?” walter shoots back.

“do you have a girl, mister hale?”

“me?” walter chuckles, waving his hand in the air. “oh, no. all girls do is cause me trouble. they tire me out.” he huffs, recalling the incident that caused him to quit. “i don't like em.”

deke blinks, but just nods and sits back in his seat. “yeah, i get that,” he says, crossing his legs. “so, what about pay?”

“okay, this is where things get lengthy,” walter chuckles, pulling out a piece of paper and pen from his suit pocket. “it all depends on what you're willing to work, you see.”

deke nods as walter begins to explains all of the numbers and liabilities for the road- as well as instruments, gas, clothes, etc…and deke nods along.

while he talks, deke drinks another glass or two of whiskey, which gets walter a little concerned- but he didn't say anything. deke may be younger than him, but he isn't his father.

a little while in, deke starts getting a little restless, the alcohol obviously taking effect, and he begins asking little questions here and there- but as time goes on, they get more and more off topic. he's asking about walter’s childhood, what he likes to do in his spare time, what his favorite bar to go to is, if he’s ever been married-

then the big question comes up.

“have you ever taken someone’s virginity?”

walter drops his pen, blinking at deke dumbly at the question. he feels his face get hot, and he prays that he isn't blushing.

“what?”

“you know,” deke hums, shrugging. “you're an older man, you've lived longer than i have.” he explains, gesturing vaguely as he continues. “i just wanna know if… you’ve ever-”

“ruined anyone?”

deke blushes at that, looking away. “sounds harsh when you say it like that.”

“well, ‘s what it is.” he says bluntly, twisting the pen in his fingers. “the answer is no. i haven't, by the way,”

deke hums, his expression slightly disappointed as he turns his eyes back to the paper. “oh, okay,”

walter sets his jaw, closing his eyes. “why did you ask?”

deke swallows hard, looking away and rubbing at the back of his head. “i was uh, hopin’ you could help me with somethin’.” he muttered, his voice slightly slurred.

“like what,” walter asked lowly, licking his lips absentmindedly, staring as the boy looked up at him with large eyes. something unreadable flashed in them, and it made walter’s chest fill with an odd sensation.

“i…” he starts, biting his lip and swallowing hard. “i don't…wanna be a virgin anymore,” he says, his lips parted. “i wanna be a man,”

walter’s cigar fell from his mouth, and he was thankful that it went out a while ago, or he would have set them both on fire. he looked at the boy incredulously.

“what?”

“i-”

“no, don't repeat it,” walter said, holding his hand up. “you're- you're drunk.”

“not that drunk!” he whines, crawling towards walter, his voice needy. “i-i want-”

“no, you don't,” walter says firmly. he felt for deke, he truly did. it wasn't too long ago when he was in the boy’s shoes- except he was a teen and desperate to lose his virginity just to prove that he wasn't a loser like everyone said he was.

he ended up losing his virginity to some dickhead on the football team behind the bleachers of their homecoming game. he hated himself afterwards. he didn't want deke to make that same mistake here, with him.

“make a better choice, deke,” walter said, his voice low. “don't do this just to prove yourself to anyone.”

deke pressed his lips into a flat line, going dead silent as walter began to stand.

“i’ll come back tomorrow night, when you're sober.” he hums, tucking the paper into his pocket. “okay?”

the boy didn't answer. walter cocked his head to the side, and took a closer look at deke, only to realize that the boys eyes were shiny with unshed tears.

“ah, shit,” walter cursed, sitting back down. “don't…don’t cry, kid,” he sighs, rubbing at his temples. “i just don't want you to make a mistake, like i did.”

deke sniffles, pawing at his eyes as walter speaks. he looks so small, so pathetic compared to the boy dancing and singing on stage earlier. deke swallowed hard and spoke, his eyes still glassy.

“i just…i’m tired of being alone.” he sighs shakily, tears gathering in his lashes. “i’ve been alone all my life,” he hiccups, pulling his knees to his chest. “i don't have no one, and i just thought…i dunno, if i wasn't a virgin, i’d feel a little less alone,”

walter sets his jaw, running a hand through his hair and sighing. his reasoning was obviously wrong, but walter felt himself sympathizing with deke again. he understood where he was coming from.

against his better judgment, he gently took deke’s hand into his own.

“i think you're real pretty, kid,” walrer admits, looking into his eyes. “i think you have a whole life ahead of you, but you can't just go around hopin’ people will take your virginity.”

“i know,” he mutters.

“i came back here because i think you're special. i didn't wanna risk never seeing you again,” he says, looking deke in the eyes. “i want you around me. got that?”

deke looks up at him and nods, his eyes big and glassy. walter smiles softly, and they find themselves just staring at one another, lost.

walter can't help but feel a wave of possessiveness wash over him. he didn't want anyone else to hurt deke, or to put any other kind of ideas in his head. he was obviously fragile- and vulnerable, and the thought of someone trying to take advantage of him made him angry.

“i should-” walter spoke, but was cut off as deke leaned up to kiss him eagerly.

the boy's lips were soft and pillowy. walter was practically frozen in shock as the boy pulled him closer, licking into his mouth feverishly.

walter groaned softly, but pushed deke away, panting as a string of saliva connected them at the lip. walter felt his dick twitch in his pants, and he cursed himself out for feeling this way towards the boy.

his eyes trailed over deke, and his cock only responded more. deke was panting softly, his face pink and eyes lidded. his hair was messy, strands over his eyes as he looked up at walter needily. a prominent bulge was showing in his jeans.

fuck.

walter huffed and pulled deke into his lap, pulling him into another heated kiss. he had lost his composure, that one taste of deke frying his brain. the boy tasted sweet, in a way he had never experienced before.

deke was panting against the older man’s lips, and for that moment walter felt as if it was only them in the world. just them and the warmth of their bodies slotted against one another.

he hadn't felt like this in a long time.

with a soft groan, walter’s hands found their way to deke’s slim hips, pulling him down until their erections made contact. a sweet shudder came from the younger man at the pressure, and walter suddenly had the need to hear every noise that deke knew how to make.

boring him down, walter began to guide the younger man’s hips, grinding him against the older man’s erection. he could feel deke’s cock twitching with each movement, and his little gasps were so sweet. his head fell into the crook of walter’s neck, making his skin flush at the contact.

“please,” deke begged, his voice high pitched and breathy- such an extreme contrast to the strong, expressive voice he had heard on stage not so long ago. it was dizzying to think about. he was making deke like this. desperate, needy, a wreck.

“please, mister hale,” deke gasped, his voice cutting through walter’s thoughts as he gripped onto his jacket, leaning back from the crook in his neck. “fuck me,”

those words were almost enough to push walter over the edge right there. he stilled the boy’s hips, looking into his eyes, clouded with arousal and dazed from the alcohol. if walter had half a mind, he would give in to the boy's request- to his desire to see just how many noises he could make- but he knew better.

“no,” walter exhaled, his voice slightly breathy from the friction. “not now, not while you're drunk.” he mutters, moving to guide deke’s hips against his again. “just this. cum just like this,”

deke whined needily, his head falling forward as he felt walter rub against him through the fabric of his jeans. the boy’s thighs tightened up at his sides, and he was whimpering so sweetly that it made walter’s head spin. the older man dug his fingers into deke’s hips harder, huffing as he sped up.

deke cried out, his back stiffening as walter ground against him at a quicker pace, unrelenting and overwhelming in such a good way. a dark spot was forming on his jeans, over the tip of his cock, from all of the precum he was leaking.

“just imagine you're riding me,” walter purred, his eyes heavily lidded as he watched deke sob and tremble.

“p-please–!” deke cried out, tears spilling down his flushed cheeks. “i-i need– i–” he whimpered, his body beginning to tremble softly as he imagined it- walter’s cock buried deep inside of him as he moved his hips and fucked himself on it.

“not now baby,” walter said breathily, leaning up and pressing a kiss to his jaw. “just cum for me now and you’ll get it later, i promise,” he breathes, pressing his hips into deke’s faster.

deke sobbed raggedly and went stiff, his whole body trembling from head to toe as he came hard in his jeans. he was gripping on to walter’s jacket tightly, trying to muffle his cries into his neck.

walter wasn't far behind, cumming with a stifled groan. he loosened his grip on deke’s hips, panting softly as he came down from his high.

it was silent and still for a minute. neither of them moved from their position, collapsed onto one another, until deke started weakly rolling his hips again.

walter hissed from the overstimulation, his hands flying to the boy’s hips again, but not stopping him.

“what–”

“again,” deke gasped, his voice breathy and needy as he looked up at walter. “i wanna cum again,”

jesus christ.

walter hissed and sat up, pushing deke off of his lap and back into the couch. the boy immediately went to apologize, but walter held up a hand to hush him.

“hush, i’m just-”

walter huffs lowly, running a hand through his hair and sinking between deke’s legs, undoing his belt slowly and unzipping his pants.

the boy gasped softly as his half hard cock hit the cold air, cum still smeared on the tip from his previous orgasm. he was surprisingly big, equally long and thick with a pink head. walter hummed lowly, leaning forward and licking up the creamy white fluid, inwardly groaning at how the boy tasted. deke gasped softly, his cock slowly working its way to attention.

“mister hale–” he whined, his hips twitching upwards as walter continued to lick his tip clean, purring at the sweet taste. walter felt himself getting hard again, just from the thought of what he was doing. deke had never been touched before, and here he was- giving him his first taste of pleasure and what it meant to fall apart. it was maddening.

everything about deke was pure. his skin, the way he tasted against his tongue, the agonizingly sweet noises he made. walter didn't want to take it away from him completely– not tonight.

slowly, walter began to take the pink head of deke’s cock into his mouth, tongue still lapping at the tip gently. the boy is writhing against the leather couch, his flush spreading down his chest as walter’s hot mouth envelops him, swallowing him with ease.

the older man suckled at the boy's length as he laved his tongue at the underside, his hand grabbing the base to steady his cock as he began to bob his head slowly. the noises escaping deke’s throat were sweet and agonizingly sinful, but walter couldn't find it in him to care one bit. the younger man tasted so sweet, unlike anything he had ever had the pleasure to taste before. he never wanted to forget this.

“mmh– fuck…” deke sobbed, pressing his face into the crook of his arm as his breathing sped up, his hips twitching up into walter’s mouth. the older man welcomed his thrusts, taking his hips into his hands and guiding his thrusts as deke more or less began to fuck his face shyly.

a shy hand found walter’s hair as deke’s thrusts became sloppier, the tip of his cock touching the back of his throat with each pump of his hips. walter hummed lowly around the younger man, swallowing around him and swirling his tongue around his length eagerly.

“m–mister hale–” deke sobs, his hand tightening in walter’s hair as he thrusts up sloppily. “i–i’m gonna–”

walter seized the boy's hips, guiding his hips needily, filled with hunger. he needed to taste deke– he needed to feel his release in his throat. the boy whimpered sweetly, his breath hitching as he gripped walter’s hair, his back arching as he came hard into the older man’s throat, making walter purr lowly. he tasted hot and sweet and perfect; and walter never wanted to forget the taste.

deke let out a small whimper as walter kept suckling at his length, cleaning his cock and pulling off with a lewd ‘pop’.

walter wiped at his lips, humming lowly and looking over deke’s figure. he was panting heavily, his face red and shiny with sweat as he looked at walter with lidded eyes.

“mister–”

“c’mere,” walter exhaled, reaching out and pulling deke into his arms, grabbing a few napkins from the coffee table in front of them. he bunched them

up and gently wiped at deke's cock, swabbing away the mixture of spit and cum that stained his length.

walter felt his release from earlier seeping through his boxers, but it wasn't through his pants yet. he still tucked some of the napkins into his pants and cleaned himself lazily before tossing them to the side. he didn't need to do it perfectly right now. he could shower at his place.

he tucked deke back into his pants, and the silence hung over them once more, nothing but their heavy breathing and the faint rustle of clothes filling the room. he could feel deke’s eyes on him, and that only made his face feel hotter with shame, as he could still taste him on the back of his tongue.

maybe this was a mistake.

walter stood, straightening his suit jacket and rolling shoulders. “i’ll uh, come back tomorrow.” he said simply, his voice still a bit breathy as he spoke. “you’ll be performing here again, right?”

deke gave a small nod, and walter gave a strained smile.

“alright, i’ll be back here tomorrow night, when you're sober,” he says, heading for the door and not daring to turn around. he knows what he did in there was wrong, but he couldn't help himself. he didn't want to make deke feel bad for what happened, but he just couldn't bring himself to say anything else.

he didn't even know if he had it in him to come back tomorrow night. he didn't know if he had it in him to stay away. the boy gave him so many emotions at once– things he hasn't felt in years, and to be feeling them now that his heart has laid cold and dormant for years was almost agonizing.

he pulled another cigar from his suit pocket, lighting it and taking a deep drag as he stepped onto the street, his head hung low as he exhaled the smoke. he wanted to see deke again, but he didn't know if he could face him again, no matter how much he couldn't bare the thought of not seeing him again.

he stared up at the moon, sighing deeply. he had always managed to fuck things up, even early on in life. this seemed to be no different.

he pulled the cigar from his lips and flicked the embers away, smacking his lips faintly. he could still taste deke on his tongue– sweet and hot and pure– perfect.

what he would give to taste him again.

[srorgana1]

Into The Reverb (Kylo Ren/Reader)

Chapter Thirty Two

“Hi Evelyn, it’s Y/N L/N, one of Dr. Morgan’s patients. I am calling to see if I can reschedule my appointment for the 21st. I have some stuff with work that day and was wondering if I could reschedule for the 24th or 25th. If you could please call me back to confirm this, I would greatly appreciate it.” You say into the voicemail system. You hang up, letting out a big sigh.

Work has been insane lately now that you are fully on your own. Chewie was available to consult but you wanted to prove to him and the others they had made the right decision. You had spent most of the last few days at the studio staying late into the night going over files that had been sent to you to review. The bands under you had promise, especially Trax. He had this cyber punk metal vibe that you knew would be a hit.

But deep down, you knew you were spending so much time at the studio was because you were lonely. You missed Kylo so much. True to his word, he continued to text, call and FaceTime when he had time, but it wasn’t the same. You missed his touch and his deep voice that you could feel as well as hear.

During your most recent session, Dr. Morgan congratulated you on your apparent progress. She said she could see how much more confidence you had and how you have been using the tools you have learned to combat stressors in your new role. She had also winked and asked if she could meet your mystery man. You smiled and simply said maybe.

You look down at your phone. It’s 8:55. The Knights will be getting ready to go on stage soon in Chicago. You watched what you could on social media and YouTube. You could feel his passion and energy even through the screen. It made your panties damp when you would watch the post-show interviews. His pale skin shimmered with sweat as he would smirk and coyly answer questions. He oozed sex and everyone wanted a taste.

You fight a shiver as you start to clean up your items so you can head home. It was still an adjustment sleeping alone. You have now sadly began to sleep in his t-shirts and spritz his cologne onto your pillow just so you could have a piece of him with you at night. You knew it was pathetic, but it helped.

You hear your phone ping as you get into your car. It’s a text from Rae. Hey girlfriend, you busy? Was wondering if you wanted to have a girl’s night. You do a double take at your phone. While you and Rae were amicable, you wouldn’t say you were besties. Sure, she has invited you out to brunch and after work drinks, but it was always with others from work. You hit her contact as it starts to ring.

“Hey girl” she says after the second ring. “Hey what’s up” you say, feeling out the situation. “Nothing, was wondering if you were free tonight?” she says. You bite your lip conflicted. Normally Kylo calls you after shows, normally hyped up on adrenaline. Your cheeks warm at the memory of his dirty words the night before.

“Honestly, I would like to but since it’s a show night, I normally FaceTime with Kylo after…” you say, embarrassed for even bringing it up. “Oh, oh okay” she says, sounding a bit defeated. You catch onto it instantly. “Rae, have you heard from Kurak recently?” you say, concerned for your coworker. “Not since earlier this week, but he’s like that” she says trying to wave it off. You can read in her voice that she’s sad, lonely. Just like you.

“Hey, I am turning off the freeway now, meet me at my place and we can watch something and order takeout” you say. “Really?! Thanks babe! I’ll text you when I get there” she says, ending the call. You huff out a breath. This wasn’t how you thought tonight was going to go but Kylo will understand.

You click on Kylo’s contact and send a quick audio message. Hey Ky, I will be hanging out with Rae tonight, so I won’t be available to FaceTime. Good luck tonight and text me when you can. Love you. Sending the message, you know he won’t be too upset. Your coworker/friend needed you and you hoped that you could do what you could for her.

When you got home, you changed and flipped on Netflix. You weren’t sure what this would entail but you were willing to take a chance. You phone pings with Twitter and Instagram notifications. The concert must be going well, you think as you pull your hair out of the high ponytail. You massage your scalp and temples, trying to alleviate the strain.

You hear a knock on your door along with a ping from your phone. Walking over, you see Rae through the peephole. Opening the door, you smile softly allowing her entry. You can tell by her eyes she has been crying. You shut the door and follow her, allowing her space.

She stands in the middle of your living room, looking sad and unsure of herself. You aren’t used to this Rae. You are used to loud and vivacious Rae. You walk up to her and hug her. You feel her stiffen and then crumble onto you, sniffling into your shoulder. “What’s wrong?” you say, leading her to your couch.

“Sorry, this wasn’t supposed to happen” she mutters, wiping her nose on her sleeve. You pick up the remote and put on Outlander. She smirks as she hears the opening music. You shift back, tucking your legs under you as you face her.

“What’s wrong Rae? What’s bothering you?” you ask again, eyes focused on her. “I… I think Kurak and I are over… like nothing was really said but I can just feel it” she says, looking down at her hands. Your heart hurts for her. “I’m sorry to hear that. Do you know what happened” you say, wanting more. “I think it’s just we weren’t compatible. It was all surface level. When I tried to dig deeper, he would freeze and back off” she says, shaking her head.

Your heart constricts again at her pain. “It sounds like he wasn’t ready for a more complicated relationship” you say softly, trying not to hurt her more with the truth. “I know, I should’ve read the signs, but that’s not all…" she says, huffing out a breath. You reach out to her, holding her hand lightly. “Rae, I’m here for you, no matter what” you say. She snorts, laughing bitterly. You look at her, confused. “Fuck, okay here it is. I’m late, like late late.” She says, holding her head in her hands.

You freeze, shocked by her statement. “You mean…” you ask, trying to keep your anxiety at bay. She laughs weakly as she nods her head. “Pregnant? Yeah apparently. I took a test last week and two more this week” she says softly.

Tears prick your eyes as you wrap your arms around her. You squeeze tighter when you hear her sob. “Does he know?” you whisper, rubbing your hands down her back. She shakes her head no into your shoulder, “he won’t respond to my texts” she mutters.

You rub her shoulders, sad and angry on her behalf. She didn’t deserve this and neither did the life inside her. “Obviously he isn’t ready for a relationship, he has shown you that” you say evenly “and obviously it’s up to you how you move forward with this, but I want you to know both Kylo and I will support you.”

She snorts again. “Sorry, I’ve just heard that a lot in my life and they all fall through. I guess I am not cut out for fairytale endings like you” she says bitterly, pulling away from you. You freeze, not knowing what to say to that. While your relationship was good, it surely was not perfect. But you could agree you and Kylo were compatible. “Um I don’t know what to say to that” you mumble, feeling uncomfortable. You feel her eyes on you.

“I’m sorry for snapping at you” she says “I’m just all over the place and it’s frustrating.” You nod, empathizing with her. “But really, you are fucking lucky. You have a man who would destroy worlds for you. He was hooked before you guys even got together. People would kill for even a snippet of what you and Kylo have. You two are like fucking soulmates or something” she says holding your hand. You look up at her and can see in her eyes she's telling the truth. "Thank you" you whisper, squeezing her hand.

She huffs, clearing her throat. “Thank you for letting me come over. I just was stewing at home, and I don’t know…” she tails off as she focuses on Jamie Fraser’s face on the screen. You squeeze her hand again, letting her know it's okay. You know what she means.

“I think I just need to take some time. Figure out what I want and what’s best for me” she whispers, running a hand through her braids. You nod, willing to support her however she needed. “If that’s what you need, I support you. Just keep me in the loop of what you decide” you say.

She smiles fully for the first time tonight. “Thank you babe, I really do appreciate it. I think I just needed to tell someone. It was swirling and I felt like I was drowning. But really thank you Y/N.” You smile softly. “Yeah, just going to take some time, focus on me and this little one. Who knows maybe through this, I’ll find my knight in shining armor” she says, winking at you.

You both jump at the sound of your phone ringing. It’s Kylo. You pick it up quickly as Rae stands up and heads to the kitchen, smirking as she passes you. “Hey Ky” you say, feeling your cheeks warm. “Hey beautiful” he says, his voice extra low and raspy. He must have really let loose tonight. “How was the show?” you say looking between the TV and Rae. “Good. The crowd was nuts. We just got back to the bus” he says.

“Did you get my message?” you say, starting to get nervous. “What message? I hope it was that you fucking miss me and your pussy needs split open by my fat cock” he growls. Your face warms as you choke on your spit, making you cough. “No but um, yes, yes I do” you say, flustered and embarrassed. You seriously don’t know what to do.

But thankfully Rae does. Catching your eyes, she nods silently as she takes your phone and puts it on speaker phone. “Hey Ky” she says brightly. “Oh..uh hi Rae” he rasps, clearing his throat.

“Sounds like you guys had a banger show. Me and your girl here were just about to settle into takeout and watch some of it” she says. You stare at her, amazed at how fast she flipped. “That’s…that’s cool. Yeah, the show was awesome. KYBER killed it tonight, setting the crowd into a frenzy before we even got on stage” he says.

“Fuck yeah. Well, our fries are getting cold, and your girl keeps stealing them so we are gonna let you go. I promise I will return her to you in one piece” Rae says, winking at you. “I’ll call you later tonight Ky” you squeak. “Okay baby girl, love you” he croons. “Love you too” you say, feeling off balance. He hangs up, but you are still uncomfortable.

Rae looks at you, narrowing her eyes. “What’s wrong?” “I just…it feels weird saying that in front of you. It felt like I am slapping you in the face with my happiness after everything you have told me” you mumble. To your surprise, she laughs. “Girl, like I said before, I’m happy for you. You deserve it.” she says as she grabs her phone. “Now speaking of fries, how about we share a big ass portion of Disco fries?”

You smile, knowing you and Rae share a love for sauced up cheesy fries. “Yes, but only if it’s from Fat Sal’s” you say, heading to the kitchen. You laugh at the sound of Rae’s moan. “Fuck yes, they are the best, especially with Fat sauce for dipping…” You hear her hum as her fingers fly across the screen.

You freeze as you pull two sparkling waters put of the fridge. Anxiety spiking, you grit your teeth as you turn back to your friend. “Rae um… is it okay if I tell Kylo? I just don’t want to cause more drama…” you shut your eyes, grimacing. You should have thought this through. God you were so stupid…

“Yeah” You look up, eyes wide. She is smiling at you as she played with one of her braids. “Yeah, it’s fine. I trust you and if you trust Kylo, I’m fine with it” she says “but…just I don’t want him telling Kurak before I do.” You shake your head quickly. “He would never do that! He respects you too much to do something like that…”

“I don’t know about that” she says laughing “but I know if you ask him to, he won’t. Now get your booty over here, food is on the way.” She grabs the remote and switches to Hulu. “Have you watched Drag Me To Dinner? It’s fucking great!” You shake your head no as you hand her a bottle. “You are in for a treat love! Neil Patrick Harris and his hubbie are hilarious in it!” she says clicking it on. You smile as your friend settles in, hugging a throw pillow.

While it isn’t ideal, stuff like this happens. You just hope Rae does okay and Kurak steps up. Even if he doesn’t, you know she will have you, Kylo and the rest of the crew from D’Kar there for her. You are a family there and family supports each other in times of need. You send Kylo a quick I love you text and put your phone down, already letting out a giggle as a blue haired drag queen splashes a poorly made remoulade all over the kitchen set.

[moss-reads]

Sorcery of Thorns by Margaret Rogerson

Rating: 4.5 ⭐️

"Sorcery of Thorns is a fantasy standalone about Elisabeth, an orphan who was raised in a library that mistrusts sorcerers, and houses magical grimoires that sometimes turn into horrific monsters, but when she is accused of a crime she didnt commit, she must turn to her enemy, a sorcerer named Nathanial Thorn and his strange servant, in order for them to save the great libraries and the world with them" (paraphrased description from the back of the book)

This has been on my tbr since about maybe march of last year when i got back into reading, and picked it up as a birthday present for myself and i think it lived up to the hype!

I found the characters compelling and fully realized, and i loved that it was a high fantasy plot With a romance but wasnt purely a romance and isnt part of a 5 book series i have to devote too much of my time to,and i can see myself coming back to it again later for a reread

I saw a few booktubers i like on youtube recommend it and give it 5 stars, but for me since i was unable to finish it until i downloaded the audiobook, and i wasnt fully invested until almost 20 chapters in, it sits pretty well at 4.5

Also as far as the audiobook goes, Emily Ellet is a FANTASTIC narrator and really brings Rogerson's writing to life and it overall felt cozy at times

Overall i really enjoyed this, and i'm interested in reading more from Margaret Rogerson's catalog! I'm definitely going to pick up the sequel novel as soon as i can

spoilery thoughts under the cut!

I will say that i didnt feel much interested in the story until chapter 20 even with the action and the plot brewing, cause thats when Elisabeth stepped into a library again and also around the same time Nathaniel's manor because the descriptions the author writes are just so incredibly magical and feel like you're in the story, and i loved when it became a mini heist moment, and i am glad that they did introduce the big bad early on so that we could sit with the rest of the world and characters more!

The romance also could have been fleshed out a bit more, it was a bit insta-lovey and i felt more drawn to the character of Silas more than anything so it fell to the side for me, and i think the end was the only thing that made me wish it was maybe a duology cause i wanted more of him! I also loved that Elisabeth was smart yet didnt have all the answers, but wasnt so clueless that every plot point you predict she just absolutely doesnt see coming, which i think was refreshing for stories like this

I did find the explanation of her powers and how she was basically a human booklouse a bit brushed over and confusing, but again its a standalone and i'm glad they addressed it at all

I do think the same about it being confusing or not fully explained can be said for some other elements though i do stand by that the characters were very realized! The pacing also could be a bit too fast or too slow at times, but it definitely didnt make it less enjoyable once i was more invested in the story!

tldr: i love this story about a librarian and a sorcerer and their emotional support demon saving the world

[skyler10fic]

Sweet Like Honey: Ch. 7 Beach Brides

Summary: Carol’s in a pastel yellow halter top and lavender swim shorts, Daisy’s in a teal bikini, they’ve got their sandals, sunglasses, hats, towels, and sunscreen … it must be time for BEACH FIC! My specialty.

Next to last chapter!

Read on Ao3

-----------------------------

The beach was busy given the heat wave, but Carol and Daisy scored a pair of rental lounge chairs away from any big groups. Especially since it was early June and the area behind the Pegasus was known as the local gay beach on this side of town, for obvious reasons, the giant Pride flag on the lifeguard tower welcomed in a particularly hyped crowd.

A group played beach volleyball, another dared each other to run at least waist high into the cold water, and more couples and individuals and groups strolled along the sand, simply enjoying the atmosphere. One couple in particular caught Daisy’s eye from where she was relaxing and pretending to read her book as she people-watched. Two women, one tall with long silver hair and one stout with short white hair. The first was painting the beach scene, observing all around them, while the second sat fully absorbed with what she was writing in her notebook. A content old chocolate lab napped on a blanket between them. They were situated in a little half-cove of small dunes, out of the way of the flying beach balls and partiers, but with a clear view of the ocean and the tourists a short distance away, including Daisy and Carol.

Daisy’s observations were interrupted by a group of girls approaching.

“Hi guys!” Kate bounded up to them, with Trish, Jessica, and Sharon trailing behind. Her bikini with a strawberry pattern and high ponytail reflected her bubbly personality.

“Hey!” Daisy and Carol greeted. Daisy noted the painter was subtly watching them in amusement.

Kate followed her brief gaze to the older couple. “Did you meet them? They are so fascinating.”

“Katie,” Trish interrupted, “we’re going to be over here.” Trish gestured vaguely in front of their path and the three of them continued on without Kate.

Carol cleared a spot for her at the end of the chair and Kate sat down.

“No, I don’t think we’ve seen them before,” Daisy answered her question about the painter and writer. “Do you know them?”

“We met at breakfast this morning. C’mon, I’ll introduce you!” Before they could stop her, Kate was on her way to the older couple and Daisy and Carol had no choice but to follow.

The painter, Mary, smiled gently as Kate introduced them to her; her partner, Ruth; and their dog Barkley, who slept undisturbed on his beach blanket. Ruth nodded from her writing and continued on with a furrowed brow.

“She’s been inspired today,” Mary explained. “Whereas I have been thoroughly distracted.”

“Sorry.” Daisy cringed.

“Oh, no, not your fault at all,” Mary assured kindly. “It’s more that I’ve been commissioned to paint a calm ocean view for the resort, but there’s so much life and excitement here today. Even the waves know it.” She looked out to where the ocean, indeed, was actively and loudly entertaining its guests.

“They’re smart to wear wetsuits,” Carol noted, pointing to a group in neck-to-ankle neoprene. “We just stood in the shallows and it was really cold.”

Daisy agreed. “It was fun to cool off after our walk, but I would not be out there like those guys.” A few brave surfers had ventured out to the breaking waves, but mostly those in the water lounged on inflatables.

Ruth spoke up. “It’s not the cold that would bother me. It’s the sharks.”

As if a prophet had spoken, the alert from the lifeguard tower sounded. A voice from a bullhorn declared the warning, and the swimmers and surfers paddled back to shore.

“It’s the sharks’ home first,” Mary reminded as she adjusted her ribboned straw hat. “They are kind to let us visit at all.”

“Have you two been here long?” Daisy asked, expecting a few days or weeks.

Ruth chuckled, and Mary answered. “Oh yes, every summer since we were in our 30s, and then when we retired, we moved out here. It was where we could be together without hiding.” Mary held out her hand and Ruth took it, exchanging nostalgic, bittersweet smiles.

“That’s beautiful,” Carol remarked. “You’ve probably seen the Cape change a lot.”

“Oh yes,” Mary sighed. “It’s much busier, but I’m glad it brings more young energy and life to the town. We need all this joy to remind us how far we have come.” She observed the openly queer couples all around them, as Carol and Daisy had so often on their trip.

“How about you all?” Ruth nodded to the girls.

Daisy beamed and took Carol’s hand, swinging it briefly. “My wife and I are here on our honeymoon. We head home the day after tomorrow.”

“I can’t believe it’s almost over. It’s gone so fast,” Carol said, mostly to Daisy but loud enough for the other women to hear.

“I bet it has,” Ruth laughed. “What about you, sweetheart?”

Kate answered, “Oh, we’ll be around through the weekend. Then I have to get back to start my first job!” She squealed in nervous excitement, and the others laughed.

“You’ll be fine,” Carol assured. “Just be yourself and everyone will love you immediately.”

This praise made Kate’s day, but her mood fell as Jessica called out, “Hey Katie, stop bothering those artists. They are trying to work!”

Kate growled under her breath. “Coming!” She turned to the women and apologized, running off to where Jessica was waiting to have what looked like a heated conversation.

“We should let you two get back to it too,” Daisy said with an apologetic gesture. “But your painting is beautiful. The resort is going to love it.”

“Thank you,” Mary answered sincerely. “And you two? Don’t lose hope. Stay connected and keep choosing each other and everything else works itself out.”

“Thank you,” Daisy said with a little bow of her head, as if receiving a blessing.

“We will,” Carol added, as if being charged with a sacred duty.

They returned to their beach chairs to find a seagull eyeing their tote bag with a shiny snack wrapper hanging out of it.

“Don’t even think about it,” Carol warned the bird. She made big shooing motions with her arms and the bird flew away, only to land near the volleyball crew’s belongings in search of treats to steal.

Daisy searched in the bag and then held up the bottle of sunscreen. “We should probably reapply.”

“Get my back and I’ll get yours.” Carol winked. They both knew that went beyond applying sunscreen into a little shoulder massage, as was their tradition. They had a real, professional couple’s massage coming tomorrow morning, but this sunscreen tradition wasn’t about truly working out any knots, just a little romantic gesture. Carol’s halter top made that part easy for Daisy, but when it was her turn, Carol had to move her teal bikini straps out of the way, letting them fall off her shoulders. It felt so publicly intimate, and Daisy knew Carol was barely resisting kissing down her neck—at least, if it hadn’t been for the fresh sunscreen taste her lips would be met with instead of pure Daisy.

When Carol was done applying and massaging, Daisy had mercy on her and pulled the straps back up, then turned to kiss her in gratitude. They continued reapplying sunscreen to the rest of their own bodies and settled in to read their books. A young man wearing the logo of the snack shop and bar came by with a menu, and they ordered blue slushie drinks with little umbrellas.

It didn’t take long for him to return. Drinks in hand a few minutes later, they clinked glasses and took a sip at the same time.

“This is the perfect honeymoon,” Daisy assessed.

“Don’t jinx it! We aren’t home yet!” Carol warned, making Daisy roll her eyes and laugh.

“I’m just saying, I love all of this. I love being here with you,” she stated simply. “This is how we’re always going to remember our first days of our marriage. No matter what comes next.”

“Me too. What was it the artist said? Keep choosing each other.”

“Easy choice.” Daisy smiled, the very picture of besotted, which Carol returned in equal measure.

“I think that’s the best marriage advice we’ve gotten so far.” Carol tilted her head, remembering others that were less helpful.

“Or maybe it just means more, considering the source,” Daisy pointed out. While her parents and their friends had good tips, back home their video chats with Wendy and Victoria had proven uniquely helpful. So it wasn’t a surprise that hearing how to stay together from two queer elders here carried an extra weight.

They sipped their drinks and people-watched for a few minutes until Daisy turned to Carol again.

“I have this nagging feeling that there was something I was supposed to remind you to talk about, but I can’t remember any more than that.”

“Hmm,” Carol thought back. “Was it last night?”

“Yeah, I think so. Out on the balcony?” Daisy drank her blue frozen cocktail as she waited for Carol to remember.

“Ohh!” There it was. “Yeah, you know how at the party, you said we didn’t get anything for me? I had a different idea. You have your, uh, necklace, but mine would be more permanent.” She pointed to the spot on her hip.

Daisy took a few seconds to think of what she could possibly mean and then noticed Carol was tracing a shape. “Oh!”

“If that’s something you’d want.” Carol shrugged. “I’m thinking a little daisy flower, just the outline. And maybe you’d draw it on the paper I bring to the tattoo shop?”

“Babe, of course!” Daisy sat up. “I didn’t know you wanted a tattoo. But I’d be honored.”

“Yeah?” Carol relaxed in relief. Daisy realized from the motion that Carol had been nervous to bring it up. She really wanted this.

“Yes! I love it. But no pressure, either. You don’t have to reciprocate for the collar. If it hurts too much or you just change your mind, it’s your body, and I won’t be offended or hurt or anything at all.”

Carol played with the umbrella on her drink. “I’ve actually been thinking about it for a while but didn’t know for sure what or where. Then remember last month, you caught me writing Carol Coulson on all my post-its at work and then we got those pens and drew on each other?”

“Mmhm.” Daisy’s awe turned to a wicked smile. It was a fun, naughty night. “I remember drawing little music notes on you with your new full name. Because you’re my favorite song, my Carol.”

“So then I drew a little flower on you. And that’s what gave me the original idea. But on me instead, because I’m yours.” Carol said it simply, as if it was just a simple fact of science, but it bathed Daisy in honeymoon bliss anew.

Daisy confessed, “I thought about ring tattoos for our fingers, but I read that they hurt a lot, so then I thought maybe not.”

Carol grimaced, picturing the needle on the delicate skin between their fingers. “I’d do it for you if you asked me to, but I think this is my first choice.”

“If we lose these too many times, or our real ones, that’s when I’d consider it.” Daisy placed her empty glass in the sand and held up her silicone ring.

“Understood. And agreed.” Carol finished off her drink and took it and Daisy’s back to the beachfront bar.

Daisy noticed Mary and Ruth’s dog had woken up from its nap to play in the sand, and sure enough, Carol stopped by on her way back to pet it and play for a minute. Daisy knew getting their own dog wasn’t practical in this stage of life, but Maria had been considering getting one for Monica for her birthday in the fall or for Christmas, and if she decided to, it would be a surprise for Carol as well. Truthfully, besides their busy lives and life-consuming jobs, Daisy didn’t want the work and expense of owning a dog herself and they really needed more space, but dogsitting once in a while was well worth it to see Carol happy.

She watched Carol hand the slobbery tennis ball back to Ruth and practically skip back over to Daisy.

“I know, I know,” Carol warded off. “I can play with other people’s dogs, but we wouldn’t be good dog owners. At least for the foreseeable future.”

Daisy nodded. “You read my mind.”

Carol sighed and looked out to the ocean. “It’s going to be kinda sad going back to our little apartment, our ordinary lives and jobs.”

“We’ve been spoiled here for sure.” Daisy watched the waves with her. The shark was long gone by now and there were more people braving the water, some getting used to it and others squealing and running back to their towels as soon as they tried to get past their waistlines.

Daisy turned back to Carol. “We still get to play our game though.”

“Which game?” Carol met her glance.

“Saying the words ‘my wife’ over and over in conversation until someone gags at our cuteness.”

Carol laughed. “True. We are going back to normal but our new normal. And I have a lot of paperwork to fill out when we get home. Becoming a Coulson officially.”

“I know it takes a lot of dull bureaucratic bullshit paperwork, but I am actually looking forward to that. My dearest wife.”

“Me too, my darling wife.”

“That’s a good one.” They giggled and sighed as the sun started making them sleepy. Eventually, they gathered up their towels and bag and headed back to their hotel room to get ready for their last nice dinner of their trip at a highly rated seafood restaurant.

The problem with this plan, of course, was that they took off each other’s swimsuits, which lead to getting in the shower together, which lead to shower sex, which shortened their getting ready window before their reservation.

They rushed down the street and made it just in time as their reservation was being called for the last time before being canceled. They sat down and accepted their menus as they caught their breath, both thinking of half an hour earlier when they’d been breathing heavily for a different reason as bikini strings were loosened, moans were muffled by the sound of the water and the buzz of a waterproof vibrator, and their hands and washcloths cleaned every speck of sand and salt and sweat and sunscreen from each other’s bodies.

Now, with light makeup, barely dry hair, sun-kissed pink cheeks, and tanned arms and legs, they sat across from each other at a popular restaurant, smiling at their secret of what they’d been doing to make them late.

Of course, anyone who looked their way could give a reasonable guess. Everything about the way that they looked at each other to their body language to their flirting and obliviousness to anything else happening in the restaurant around them screamed “honeymooners.”

They might be coming to the end of their first trip as newlyweds, but the so-called honeymoon phase wasn’t even close to being over yet.

[ghost-proofbaby]

asking about so mordor it is during 24/7 hype is like asking the teacher if there’s hw at the end of class HAHA

nooooo never!!! mordor is my baby

i will be honest — i’ve been avoiding asks about it due to a few unkind ones i’ve gotten recently where people haven’t been the… nicest in the way they expressed wanting an update (but most of you are lovely who ask!! even simple “hey how’s mordor going” is welcome <3). i just haven’t known how to respond i guess.

the short answer is: it’s going! i wish i could give a more definitive answer regarding the next update because i love writing that fic very dearly, but i’ve just worked the last few days and haven’t gotten the chance to sit down and finish the final scene for the next chapter. 😭

the longer answer, which it’s not specifically you that has mentioned this nonnie, but others, is that my process with mordor just takes longer than 24. it’s more involved. when i say i’m working on mordor, it means i am rewatching the show, i am meticulously researching, i am rereading shire and going over my plot specifically for mordor. it’s just a lot more brain power required, which i fully brought upon myself and don’t mind because like i said, i love this fic and getting to write it and share it with you all!! it just means there’s a lot more happening behind the scenes with it on my end. i know it may not seem that way to all of you (as some people have expressed), and i know that maybe some don’t find the writing reflecting all that effort/being up to par, but at the end of the day… i’m trying my best and i’m most worried with my enjoyment. if i’m not enjoying it anymore, then it’ll show in the writing, and that just… isn’t what i want for my fic, y’know?

i really am sorry that updates on mordor take longer, and i am so endlessly appreciative to those of you who are patient enough to wait it out and still show so much support <3 i love y’all. thank you for taking a story that has turned into a very vulnerable part of my heart, and for treating it with care. 🖤

also i’m so sorry for picking on you specifically nonnie you’re just one of the nicer asks i’ve received recently regarding it and i’d rather extend an answer to you then someone being rude!!! <3 thank you for reading and thank you for being excited about it haha ily <3