#we discovered fish boy today and that was an experience

[queenofthekings]

@quinnigallagherjones and I hopping onto VC for three hours to only talk about Robert and our characters

[idialover]

!!NSFW!!!

My friends and I have a tradition of playing "does this character have sex" whenever we get into a new piece of media, because we always enjoy everything together, and today we spent a few hours discussing TWST charactrs. They found out that I now have a Tumblr blog and told me I should "post our very scientific findings for the interwebs" (Note that we are all between the ages of 16-17, so in the same age group as the characters)

Heartslabyul (general judgement): The virgin one

Riddle: no, and he somehow doesn't even know what sex is. You'd think he'd know with how much he studies about everything you learn in school, so even sex-ed but no, he doesn't know

Ace: gray area, no bitches respectfully, except maybe Deuce, but we couldn't agree on that, he would treat it as "it's just a prank bro, no homo"

Deuce: yeah, sure, I mean he's pretty okay looking, not often tho

Cater: he seems like he'd be a dicord kitten or an insta-thot, he tries but doesn't really succeed, maybe once or twice.

Trey: no, because he actually wears a fedora, unironically. "he's as bland as the flour he uses in his cakes"-my friend#2

Savanaclaw (general judgement): Gahdayumm!!

Leona: YES! absoulutley 100% just look at him, but he'd be one of those lazy tops, is very casual about it, there isn't a lot to say because it's just so obvious that he is 100% a sex haver

Ruggie: Hard to say, he has an Italian souding name so maybe no, he hasn't yet discovered that he can earn quite a lot of money that way, or maybe he has (we couldn't agree on this)

Jack: gay wolf boyfirend fantasy so yes, big buff man go brrrr

Octavinelle (general judgement): ehhhh, fish go brrr

Azul: this was a very hard one to decide but in the end no, no real reason just doesn't seem like he would have it, he's on that alpha buisness grindset

Jade: Yes becazse friend#1 said so (she's a strong Jade stan) and everyone decided to let her have this one, but everybody else generally thinks he is Asexual (friend#1 is also ace)

Floyd: yes, he is bisexual in wicked and scheming ways and everybody is aware of that. Chaos bi, him and Jade are two side of a coin, all or nothing. He flirts by messing with people, mostly Riddle but as I've already said Riddle has no idea what's going on and just thinks Floyd has it out for him

Scarabia (general judgement): This was the hardest one to discuss

Kalim: He is very lovable, but no, for unknown reasons, boy has 0 rizz

Jamil: yeah, ig, normal 17 year old guy, he isn't basic like Trey, but he just doesn't have time because of Kalim

Pomefiore (general judgement): slayyy!

Vil: Yes, and his standards are surprisingly not as high as you'd think, we got very heated about how people often mischaracterize him as a very vain but he just wants people to be themselves and best version of themselves. Good for cardio

Rook: yes, in freaky kinky ways (see Rook alchemy card) he sometimes has touble finding people who are into the same stuff as him

Epel: no, beacause he is an "alpha male" in the worst ways possible

Ignihyde (General judgement): you'd think they be reddit mods, but they actually tumblr sexymen

Idia: yes, he has that disheveled rizz, the more they look like they haven't left the house since 2015 the better. We stan broken men in this household(blog), only on halloween tho that's when his confidence get's a bit better and he becomes and active member of society

Ortho: he is a robot based on a young child! NO!

Diasomnia (General judgement): oooh spooky~~

Malleus: yeah sure

Silver: gray are (they demanded I make that pun, pls forgive me)

Lillia: He is the most slay character, an old vampire/fae obviously yes. He has a lot of experience, best sex haver he's so amazing, Lillia for the win

Sebek: no

Staff (general judgement): a very mixed bag

Crowley: someone somwhere slept with him, he is kinda usless but he gets laid, look at his vacation outfit

Crewel: Definetly, high standards but he is correct, he gets to have high standards, he is the perfect man, not a DILF but also not not one

Trein: yes, loyal to his wife (rip tho), good husband 10/10 would trust him, good man

Vargas: Yeah, he's a typical good looking guy, he has never had a long term relationship but he doesn't want one

Sam: We debated for a long time and decided that yes he does have sex

[scorchieart]

Stuck in Traffic Jam

Genre: Comedy

Characters: Clavis Lelouch & the foreign affairs faction

Wordcount: 600

Prompt: Stuck in a traffic jam

A/N: My gift for the 2023 Ikemen Exchange over on @flash-exchange for @spoopy-fish-writes! The request was for Clavis, but I think we can all agree his stories are infinitely more entertaining with the squad in tow.

The carriage lurched left, knocking Clavis’s arm from its perch on the windowsill and jerking him awake. He stifled a yawn and rubbed his eyes, blocking out the sunlight while taking in the familiar scene before him. Over the years he had grown accustomed to road trips passed without words, although those were typically the consequence of indifference among his faction members. But today’s was a stillness Clavis did not often experience in the company of Noble Beasts. 

The shaking disturbed Luke’s slumber for a moment, but whatever the boy was dreaming of proved superior to the aftershock of a bumpy road as he shook his head drowsily and muttered something about a legendary beehive before resting his head against Clavis’s shoulder and resuming his snoring. Nokto slept soundlessly across from the pair completely undisturbed by the wobbly ride, his arms and legs folded so tightly against himself he resembled a hibernating hedgehog. But it didn’t take long to discover why Nokto had squished himself to take as little space as possible as directly beside him sat several miniature towers of books, the steadfast arm of Chevalier wrapped protectively around them. Chevalier’s other arm was preoccupied with keeping the book he was reading steady as the carriage traversed through the rough terrain, and the sight made Clavis heckle on dried saliva as he cleared his throat in disdain.

“We’re not there yet?” Clavis asked, his voice grainy with sleep. Without waiting for the reply Chevalier certainly would never give, Clavis carefully lowered Luke’s head onto the seat beside him and stuck his head out the window. 

With all the jerking and jostling the carriage was making, Clavis was sure their snoozing squad had stumbled upon some obscure mountain path on their way to the Jadean Royal Gala, but one look outside showed flatlands as far as the eye could see. Puzzled, he looked at the ground and watched the thin wheels of the carriage violently rise and fall as they rolled over hundreds of randomly-shaped chunks of wood scattered across the road, each one battered and chipped as if a tree had been ripped apart. The carriage bucked and jolted as it crossed each piece, and as Clavis turned his head to ask the driver why they were taking this path he spotted dozens more carriages lined up in front of them slowly bumbling over the woody route in turn. 

“Apologies, Your Highness!” the driver called when he noticed Clavis’s top half dangling outside the window. “A herd of sheep have broken out of their pen and are blocking the path ahead. This is the quickest route to Jade, I’m afraid, so we’ll have to wait until they settle.”

“How obscene!” Clavis yelled, crawling back into the carriage and frantically poking Luke’s arm. “Get up! No, I don’t have any honey, but this is no time to eat! I bet exclusive selling rights of my next entry in the Lelouch Trap Series on us getting there before Prince Silvio— Nokto! Up, up!”

“How come Chevie doesn’t hafta go?” Luke whined blearily as Clavis latched onto his and Nokto’s wrists.

“He’s not complaining,” Clavis said, forcing open the carriage door with a sharp kick. The carriage lilted at a snail’s pace, but that didn’t stop Clavis from leaping out with boundless flourish and bolting towards the Jadean palace. Onlookers from within carriages watched with awe at the manic prince dragging two half-asleep men in his wake, but in all the commotion Chevalier merely sighed, laid his books out more evenly on the now-emptied seats, and casually flipped to the next page.

I admire and envy anyone with the superpower to read books in a moving vehicle. I nearly vomit when I so much as read a text on my phone.

Tagging: @queengiuliettafirstlady @violettduchess @venulus @thewitchofbooks @leonscape @rhodolitesrose @venti-tangents @dear-sciaphilia @ikesenwritings @myonlyjknight @ladyofcrowsx @otomefoxystar @my-day6

If you would like to be added or removed from my tag list, please send me an ask or a message.

[aaluminiumas]

See You Tomorrow

At any other time of day and week, St. Patrick’s would be overcrowded, but today, for some reason, no one showed up. Abandoned, shabby, and merely whitewashed, the church looked especially dilapidated and decrepit. How did they manage to live in such a ramshackle place? How did they grow used to the dull and stultifying landscapes enshrouding them every morning when they opened their eyes? How did they find the vivacity to arrange fairs and local competitions while he strove to impel himself to return to the island each time he visited the Vatican?

           He sighed and leaned back in the confessional, mentally asking for forgiveness. Someone had to do it, he reminded himself. You chose this path; no one forced you into a school of theology. Truth be told, he never doubted his vocation: since the death of his little sister, John struggled to find a purpose, and God seemed to be the perfect answer to all his aspirations. Lonely and confused, the boy rummaged in books, spoke to his parents, and tried to contemplate the situation by himself, but only the parish priest turned out to be competent enough to offer a decent explanation. It didn't mollify him at the time but granted the young man the necessary respite to resurface from his grief and get back to the daily routine. The salubrious effect of the conversation with the cleric lasted sufficiently long for John to make the decision that defined his entire life: the day Bishop Burke ordained him became one of the most memorable moments. John Pruitt, a mere fledgling without any decent experience, finally found his place within the confines of the church.

        Pruitt cast another glance at his watch. 7:30pm. Usually punctual, not a single congregation member turned up. It happened every once in a while. At first, John felt mildly offended and insecure: if his people refused to attend, that was his fault; he failed to deliver God's message and inspire his congregation. Judging by the example set by his role models at the seminary and in the Vatican, he felt he could not compare: his reasonings sounded lame, his wording lacked power and ethos, his tall frame, looming over the pulpit, might have created an impression of a hangman, rather than a compassionate guide, a shepherd, willing to bolster his sheep and help them discover the right way. When the initial stage of self-criticism came to a close, John realized that he was never the one to blame. Unlike residents of bigger cities, local dwellers dedicated all their time to work, as their lives naturally depended on it: women who worked at school or in a store could certainly not survive on their own, so they relied on their husbands, dealing with fishing and sailing. They would occasionally stop by and listen to the preachings when the weather threatened their boats, and the men felt robust enough—and bored enough—to socialize with their neighbors at St. Patrick's. Obviously, today, though cloudy, was a good day, and no one was eager to confess.

           At this, the priest smiled. Sins on Crockett were never too hideous: these were truly religious people who sometimes strayed and needed direction. Someone drank too much, others ate too much; a case of adultery was reported, and maybe the pious Keanes exaggerated the inadvertently exacerbating situation with the deteriorating morals, never admitting their own arrogance and a knack for gossip. But aren’t we all like this? Aren’t we all inclined to make wrong decisions and overindulge in minor temptations? Aren’t we all flawed human beings, more or less exposed to the imperfections of this world? Aren’t these problems, so pathetically commonplace and hackneyed, perennial and common for any diocese, regardless of location? In this case, he shouldn’t complain: at any rate, no one had confessed to a felony or a sin he would have a hard time to absolve.

           Pruitt looked at his watch once again, and, following the hand striking eight with his eyes, he reached for the stole to take it off. Suddenly, the man heard the light steps softly echoing in the empty church.

           His heart missed a beat. He knew exactly who was coming.

            The woman quietly stepped into the confessional, and the priest sensed an unfamiliar bout of frisson spreading across his body in a warm wave.

He couldn't see her face, of course, but by the rustling of her clothes, he understood that she knelt and folded her hands in a silent prayer. She seemed hesitant, and he didn't hurry her: after all, they had an eternity ahead of them, as no one was going to accidentally turn up this late in the evening. Usually, Pruitt would tenderly nudge parishioners, knowing that soon their confession would eventually trickle out through the lattice of the booth; with Mildred, he did no such thing.

In a few minutes, she finally spoke.

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned,” Millie whispered in a low voice. Pruitt envisioned her tiny frame, sloping shoulders and hands folded in prayer and pressed to the forehead. “I committed a mortal sin—” 

The man gave a start. What could she have done? This innocent woman, always smiling, always immensely kind and considerate? What did she consider a mortal sin? He almost bit his tongue, suppressing a weird urge to call her by name. 

 “I…” she paused, trying to find the right words, “I fell in love with a man I cannot be with.” 

Her words startled him further. Of all the people he had met, she might be the only one who deemed feelings to be a sin: even those who cheated on their spouses latched onto the thought that love was a blessing sent directly by God. A rudderless blessing, as one parishioner said; no matter how daunting it seems at the beginning, you eventually give in. John couldn't stifle a cackle that time, and now he was exposed to a completely different point of view. 

"But love's never a sin," John heard himself saying. "Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins... And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity... These are the verses that come to mind immediately, but there are many more." 

Millie paused, and he got an impression that it was stubborn taciturnity rather than that of acceptance. The priest didn't know the woman well, but from his short exchanges with her, he deduced that she hardly agreed with other dwellers on the island. An overt, outright rebellion would endanger her independence, so she remained affable, but it never meant she supported all the ideas voiced at local gatherings. She lived her simple life as the next man, creating an inner bubble of things she enjoyed. 

“Why do you think it's wrong to love a man?” 

She adjusted her dress and sighed. 

“Not any man. One particular man.” 

The priest felt tension growing, his mouth going dry for no reason whatsoever. He cleared his throat. 

“Is he married?” 

           Another pause. 

           “In a way.” 

  In a way. What does this even mean? Did she get seduced by a stranger from the outer world who deceived her and abandoned her after he satisfied his needs? 

Before he managed to contrive a decent answer, the woman continued, “Well, he’s… not married in the full sense of the word, but he’s sworn, too. Oath bound,” Millie said vaguely in a coarse voice. “And I do not know… I do not know how much longer I will be able to hide it. To pretend that everything’s fine.”

John contemplated it for a moment. He had heard a great deal of confessions, each scarier than the previous; he talked to his superiors at seminary, consulted them, discussed the entire topic, not sure how to behave around murderers and terrorists who decided to find their way to God; he mentally prepared himself for all types of complications, but this one was never on the list. The man couldn't deny his own curiosity and shame, his bizarre urge to see this woman's face and hear her calm voice, but her confession, so obvious in its honesty and candor literally pulled the floor out from under him. Was it possible that she—

 “Why…” he swallowed thickly, feeling the words sticking to the back of his throat, “Why won’t you tell him?” 

Millie seemed genuinely surprised, but when she replied, her voice sounded firm.  

 “I… it won’t do any good to either of us. I do not want to be the reason for his falling. Let me be the sinner.”

 “But you did not commit any mortal sin. Our emotions can be utterly illogical; sometimes we make decisions based on our speculations, and—”

“Thank you, Father.”

Mildred seemed to be putting a stop to his lengthy monologue, but she didn't leave immediately, and he didn't have the heart to send her away. Instead, they were just sitting there quietly, listening to the distant rumble of the upcoming storm, both reluctant to break the fragile connection forging between them: they could always pin the blame on the weather, if someone planned to question her late return. Would anyone plan to question her late return, though?.. He knew she lived alone as her mother had left for the mainland and her father had died, but was she involved in any kind of relationship? George Gunning attempted at courting her, but the only reaction he seemed to be receiving was a polite smile and a lemon pie she brought as a courtesy. She still smelled bakery, violets, and sea salt. A most fascinating combination of fragrances, especially to someone so used to frankincense…

The woman shifted slightly behind the lattice, and he heard a quiet sigh. She came here seeking validation and warmth, and he only managed to utter a few general words that probably did no good.

“Millie… Mildred,” he called softly after another long pause, suddenly going against all the formalities and regulations, implying that he be absolutely impartial. But what’s the point of playing this game when she already knew he was aware of who exactly knelt in the narrow compartment next to him? “Thank you for your honesty.”

He couldn’t see her, but he sensed a slight change: she shifted, or gave a start, or moved to hide her rosary that was knocking against wood. For some reason, he envisioned her caramel eyes staring directly at him.

“It takes a lot of a person to speak their heart out,” Pruitt started pensively, carefully choosing every word. “And I appreciate it that you trust me.” He paused for a moment. “I… am honored to be able to discuss it with you, even though I cannot say I have any expertise in the field of human relationships… Thank you, Mildred. You may be dismissed.”

She didn’t respond right away, as if she needed a moment to process his words. But when he finally heard her voice, he could make out a smile, which inevitably caused her face to appear in front of his mind’s eye: always cheerful, kind, and gentle, Millie waved her hand to attract his attention and invited him for tea. He rarely rejected: she eagerly listened to his endless stories, and was genuinely interested in history and art.

“No ‘your sins are forgiven, go in peace’?” she drawled in a soft voice, grin tugging at the corners of her lips.

“I’ll give you the absolution whenever you need it, but for now you don’t seem to have committed a sin,” he replied in the same lighthearted voice, feeling relieved. “See you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow.”

When the door behind her closed, father Pruitt leaned back in the confessional and thought that maybe—just maybe—he had made the wrong choice.

[copperbora]

About a month ago, my work friend J hired me to walk her stud Welsh corgi (Cardigan/Pembroke cross - yes, there are two breeds of corgi,) Whiskey. This has been my first time getting to walk and really spend time with a dog and it has been the best kind of learning curve.

I love Whiskey; he is such a topnotch friend and I have discovered so much from him already. Going into this I was armed only with decades of truly obsessive research about canines. I knew to keep a vast horde of dog bags in my pocket and carry treats but I didn't realize at the start that I really should also carry hand sanitizer because picking up pup poop isn't always the most... hygienic experience. Still, I do it diligently and it really isn't a big deal, so those people who think picking up warm dog poop with a bag is too disgusting? Get over yourselves. It's a complete non-issue although I'm always delighted at the sight of a garbage can so that I can free up my hands.

Again: hand sanitizer is your friend!

Also, it's better if the leash is attached to your waist; I just use an old leather belt around my middle and it's kinda amazing how well this completely curbs Whiskey's desire to pretend to be a sled dog racing the Iditarod. It's additionally just nicer having my hands free and I can get cuter pictures of Whiskey this way. (Although he admittedly rarely stops moving.)

It's fun. We hike for an hour, approximately five kilometres which is good exercise and mental stimulation for both of us. I'm a human with rather terrible mental health and he's a dog who spends many of his days being bored out of his mind at home. On the trail we both relax and find peace, which brings me to my favourite things that I have learned from Whiskey.

Walking with Whiskey we often find things that I never would have noticed hiking by myself.

He's led me to a dead fish no doubt dropped by an osprey, a dead mouse, a bone, and an absolutely enormous nest of woodland ants. He's even pointed out wildlife to me, like this herd of mule deer!

And, most importantly, he keeps me company. Hiking alone for years has been hard on me; my parents can no longer keep up so I usually find myself going solo. It hurts, remembering the days when I used to have trail companions but I don't feel lonely hiking anymore with Whiskey!

I think the very best thing about him though is that he truly cares. Today, driving back to his home I got spooked by a male human suddenly coming up to my car when I paused for another pedestrian. The moment we were safely away Whiskey nuzzled my face and I felt much better.

I knew that dogs were pretty smart but Whiskey is definitely a full person in a vertically challenged canine body. From the unimpressed looks he gives me when he is pooping and he notices me watching to how he lets me walk onto a hillock to check out a view then gently but firmly leads me back onto the trail, he's a whole person.

I really feel deeply grateful for getting to have him as a hiking partner; he's a really good boy.

Here's to many more trails together.

[lmenvs3000f24]

LMENVS3000F24

My relationship with nature is personal and held at an upmost importance, framed through stewardship and sustainability. From a young age, I was exposed to the outdoors and set free to explore the natural world in front of me through my very own senses. I recount experiences such as capturing frogs while wearing only swim trunks, embarking on hikes, searching for the unknown and discovering everything that nature has to offer along the way. I have hiked upon herds of white tail deer, flocks of wild turkeys, numerous unique bird species, lizards and snakes, just to recount a few. I have endured all types of climates, sleeping under the stars in beautiful summer weather as well as contrasting winter storms. Throughout all my experiences in nature, a certain activity has captivated me since I was a child. That being fishing. For the last 10 years of my life and specifically throughout my high school and post secondary career, fishing has been what I live for. They say that the tug is the drug and I may be an addict. From my perspective fishing is the perfect coalition of skill, technique, art and peace, set in the beautiful outdoors.

Fishing teaches its students valuable life lessons which are intertwined into the seemingly meaningless actions of the sport. Along the way we learn that success requires hard work and those who ethically hunt for victory will be rewarded. We learn sustainability practises, conservation and stewardship; ideas which are constant throughout all realms of life. It is critical that we take care of our earth and respect its finite resources or activities like fishing would simply be no longer.

Fishing has led me all over the world, whether it be a specific fishing mission or an exploratory adventure, fishing provides my friends and I with a mutualistic activity, highlighting the ultimate respect and battle between human and animal. The respect I have for fish species and the migratory journeys they complete is unmatched. Fish and their natural environments deserve top tier recognition for being resilient species full of life and determination.

My uncle and father can be held responsible for introducing me into the sport of fishing. They took me out fishing and boating all over the southern great lakes when I was a young boy, inspiring me to pursue fishing in my future. Fishing to me became something more then just the activity in and of itself, it became an escape, a chance to breath and think and reflect on reality and the situations unfolding around me. Allowing me to clearly evaluate situations throughout and retain strong mental health. Without fishing and my deep connection with outdoors I couldn’t predict where I would be today.  

[konaboyshawaiioceantours]

"Experience the Best of Kona with Stand-Up Paddle Boarding!"

Exploring the Best Stand Up Paddle Boarding Spots in Kona, Hawaii's Big Island

Welcome to an in-depth journey into the world of stand up paddle boarding (SUP) in Kona, Hawaii! If you're craving the ultimate tropical adventure, you've come to the right place. Join us as we uncover the top 10 spots for paddle boarding in Kona, each offering pristine waters and awe-inspiring vistas.

1. Keauhou Bay: Dive headfirst into the crystalline waters of Keauhou Bay, where every stroke of your paddle unveils hidden coves along the coastline.

2. Kailua Bay: Immerse yourself in the vibrant marine life of Kailua Bay, surrounded by colorful coral reefs and a plethora of tropical fish.

3. Kamakahonu Beach: Discover serenity at Kamakahonu Beach, a tranquil haven perfect for paddle boarding enthusiasts of all levels.

4. Kahalu'u Beach Park: Explore the gentle waters of Kahalu'u Beach Park, an ideal spot for beginners looking to refine their paddle boarding skills.

5. Honaunau Bay: Find peace amidst the tranquility of Honaunau Bay, known for its calm waters and captivating underwater scenery.

6. Kealakekua Bay: Unravel the historic charm of Kealakekua Bay as you paddle past ancient Hawaiian landmarks and pristine shoreline.

7. Kukio Beach: Indulge in luxury paddle boarding at Kukio Beach, where you can gracefully glide across the water and bask in the sun's warm embrace.

8. Anaeho'omalu Beach: Embark on an adventure at Anaeho'omalu Beach, where paddle alongside sea turtles and explore intriguing lava rock formations.

9. Mauna Kea Beach: Savor a day of paddle boarding at Mauna Kea Beach, surrounded by powdery sands and glistening turquoise waters.

10. Puako Bay: Conclude your paddle boarding odyssey at Puako Bay, a hidden gem offering secluded beaches and unparalleled natural beauty.

Whether you're an experienced paddler or a novice, Kona has something special for everyone. Join us as we delve into the beauty and tranquility of stand up paddle boarding in Hawaii's Big Island.

For those eager to embark on their own SUP adventure, Kona Boys is your ultimate guide. Offering rentals, classes, and tours, Kona Boys ensures a seamless and unforgettable experience on the water. Plan your SUP excursion today and let the waves guide you to paradise!

Aloha nui loa! 🌺

[newberyandchai]

Dead End in Norvelt (2012)

I think this might be the blog's first 10/10!

Dead End in Norvelt doesn't really have a plot in the traditional sense — sure, there's a mild murder suspicion in the background and a semi-mystery about a loaded WWII Japanese gun that's introduced in the first few pages, but I really resonated with the depictions of the weirdness of everyday life as a tweenage boy.

(...which says a lot, considering I'm a girl more than double the main character's age.)

From nosebleeds and Commies to cornfields and Grim Reapers, this autobiographical novel takes place just to the east of Pittsburgh, and I was familiar with many of the places mentioned. It made it feel even more real and made me think about what this area might have looked like decades ago. Pittsburgh to me feels very now, but the novel was set in the early 1960s -- how many stroads like Route 51 and Route 22 today were once farmland or part of someone's backyard?

This book really reminded me of Criss Cross, another definite 10/10 Newbery winner that I loved (and highlighted to death) as a self-conscious middle schooler in 2006. Nothing really happens in it aside from the characters having thoughts about themselves or the people around them in relation to what they experience day to day -- perhaps the nicer term is "no action" -- which lets you think about your own life in the context of appearing as a novel and having stories to tell that are important in their own small ways.

“But here in Norvelt we had one of those librarians who collected the tiniest books of human history. Mrs. Hamsby, who died yesterday at age seventy-seven, was the first postmistress of Norvelt, and she saved all the lost letters, those scraps of history that ended up as undeliverable in a quiet corner of Norvelt. But they were not unwanted. Mrs. Hamsby carefully pinned each envelope to the wall, so that the rooms of her house were lined from floor to ceiling with letter upon letter, and when you arrived for tea it appeared as if the walls were papered with the overlapping scales of an ancient fish. You were always welcome to unpin any envelope and read the orphaned letter, as if you were browsing in a library full of abandoned histories.

"Each room has its own motif of stamps, so that the parlor room is papered with stamps as if people such as Lincoln, or Queen Elizabeth, or Joan of Arc had come to visit. The bedroom has the stamps of lovely landscapes you might discover in your dreams, and the bathroom has stamps with oceans and rivers and rain. Each stamp is a snapshot of a story, of one thin slice of history captured like an ant in amber. there is history in every blink of an eye, and Mrs. Hamsby knew well that within the lost letter was the folded soul of the writer wrapped in the body of the envelope and mailed into the unknown. And for this tiny museum of lost history, we citizens of Norvelt thank her.”

If I were to write a book, I think it would end up very much like this one. (Would I be jinxing the idea if I said I've already got some "chapters" laid out?) The format is very appealing to me because it's impossible to make predictions about the direction it will go in; there are connecting threads between everything that goes on, but this kind of story doesn't follow a predictable hero's journey trope or have the first character of the opposite sex become the love interest, etc.

I'm reminded of listening to "Ira Glass on Storytelling" while walking to a morning class in college:

"One of the things that’s very unfortunate for people who are launching into the kind of jobs that people who are making videopods are launching into, is that often you’ll have an anecdote which just kills, it’s just so interesting, like this thing happens and it leads to the next and it leads to the next and it’s so surprising and so many things happen and you meet these great characters. And it means absolutely nothing. It’s just completely predictable, it doesn’t tell you anything new. And so that’s one huge problem. And then the other huge problem is you’ve got a kind of boring set of facts, a boring story, and actually someone has something kind of interesting to say about it."

10/10 and certified Recommendable.

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Camp Hero in Montauk Point, New York- a former military base abandoned in the 1980s, and the alleged site of sinister government experiments. Its buried sinister past was the inspiration for the show “Stranger Things.” 

Today, Camp Hero is a New York State-run public park with nearly 800 acres of wild beaches, dense forests and wetlands. But dotted around the park you will find the ruins of its past life, that we’re going to look into, today.

From its beginning, Camp Hero was built with deception in mind. It was the height of subterfuge, disguised as a fishing village to fool Nazi reconnaissance.

Concrete military buildings were painted with fake wood sidings and false windows to resemble cottages.

But Camp Hero would soon become overshadowed by whispers of something much more sinister: A series of highly top secret, government run experiments, known as the Montauk Project.

US intelligence embarked on a fiercely aggressive program to track down as many Nazi scientists and technicians as possible. Codenamed Operation Paperclip, nearly 1,600 captured Nazi scientists were secretly relocated to the US, and put to work on a wide range of  projects. (A lot of them are smiling.)

But, apparently the covert Operation Paperclip also included German scientists & doctors who worked on biological research and medical treatments, such as  the use of mescaline – a powerful psychedelic comparable to LSD. Their mission: To create a powerful new weapon that could control human minds.

A sealed entrance to Camp Hero’s alleged underground facilities. It is claimed the subterranean floors were flooded with cement once the project was shut down in the early 1980s.

Most of Camp Hero’s conspiracy theories center around the enormous 126 foot radar dish, that is perched on a windowless concrete monolith that towers over the other abandoned buildings in the park.

The giant radar would give the United Sates a 30 minute warning should the unthinkable happen.

Around New York City alone, there were 19 secret and heavily guarded Nike missile sites, part of what the US Army called a ‘Ring of Supersonic Steel.’ (An abandoned silo is pictured above.)

Nike missile control room.

But the giant radar dish had a peculiar side effect: It produced a signal as high as 425MHz, a frequency that routinely disrupted TVs and radios in the homes of  residents. It was also a frequency that was rumored to disrupt the human brain.

According to the 1992 book, The Montauk Project: Experiments in Time, the facility had 12 levels under the radar station, where psychological warfare techniques using electromagnetic radiation on homeless people and runaway teenagers, known as ‘the Montauk Boys,’  ranged from mind control to psychic abilities and even time travel.

One explorer said he discovered an underground tunnel at the end of which was a “heavy door, and it had a heavy wheel, like a bank vault.” Alongside other sealed entrances, he uncovered rooms decorated with highly psychedelic patterned wallpaper.

Most intriguingly of all, he found records of vast quantities of food being ordered to Camp Hero in the late 1980s, at a cost of $80,000 a month, years after the US Military had decommissioned the base.

Sceptics, however, should delve into the documents entered into the public record by a 1977 Congressional investigation into a CIA run project called MK- Ultra.

Approved by CIA director Allan Dulles in 1953, Project MK-Ultra conducted hundreds of experiments under the title of “Research In Behavioral Modification.” Some of the participants in the experiments were volunteers. In one study, volunteers were given LSD for a consecutive 77 days. Other experiments in ‘mind control’ would use electro-shock therapy, hypnosis and radiation.

Even more disturbing, the CIA would often drug US citizens and conduct experiments on them without their knowledge or consent. These experiments in mind control caused at least one death that we know about.

The MK-Ultra project was swiftly shut down in the wake of the Watergate scandal, and CIA director Richard Helm ordered all files to be destroyed. The gruesome project might have never come to public light were if not for 20,000 documents that were discovered in a financial records building.

When the deeds to Camp Hero were handed over from the gov’t to the New York State Dept of Parks and Recreation in 1984, they stipulated that New York State would own everything on the surface of the base (what is today the public park), but the gov’t retained ‘ownership of everything below the surface’ – indication of a larger facility lying hidden beneath…

https://www.messynessychic.com/2021/10/08/buried-secrets-of-montauks-menacing-military-camp-that-inspired-stranger-things/

[bluefirewrites]

Prince Protection Program AU

The response to the last post has been amazing. Thanks guys. I don’t plan on making a full on story ( I did at one point, but I have a lot of WIPs to work on), but I still have some riffs to unleash. This is my take on the boys’ life  pre-PPP. Enjoy!

(Also changed the name of Reggie’s kingdom and swapped it for Luke’s btw) 

Link to first post and artwork

Palace life sucked ass.

Usually Lukas would experience that brief split-second of bliss waking up in the morning, where he would blink against the Mediterranean sun seeping through the cracks in his curtains, the feeling of his body cocooned in silk sheets hitting him first and not the fact that he was the Crowned Prince of Solaria.

But after that, it all came crashing down on him in the form of knocking on his door, followed by the more forceful opening of his door, and the filing in of his guardian.

“Ugh,” the prince rolled around, stuffing his head under a pillow, “Five… minutes…”

“I’m afraid that’s not possible,” James stalked over, tugging the covers off of him, causing Lukas to groan at the loss of warmth, “You know what today is.”

How could he not? It had only been the very thing his parents would talk about for the past year-

The day he would be crowned king.

As was tradition, he was seventeen years of age, the time for him to learn how to be a proper ruler to succeed his father King Mitchell.

Though the problem lay in the very fact that Lukas was many things.

But proper he was not.

Lukas rose, reluctantly, which struck James quite odd. Normally there would be more complaints, a bout or two before he would summon the guards to extricate him from the bed.

“I’ll-” A yawn broke out and the young man rubbed his eyes to rouse himself, “I’ll be there soon.”

James raised an eyebrow.

Lukas lifted a palm in good faith, “I promise.”

The older man stared at him for a moment before leaving to attend to other duties. As soon as he left, the prince quietly tip-toed to the doors, pressing his ear against the cool wood and waited. The sounds of footsteps faded, marking his guardian’s disappearance around the corner.

“Sucker,” Lukas laughed, before shrugging on a shirt, swiping his headphones off his desk, and booking it to his balcony.

He had about a minute and half to scale down the vines encasing his wing of the palace before the guards caught him. 

Over the years, he had to get a bit creative to evade palace security, with his parents sealing off most exits, doubling the guards stationed by his window at night, but nowadays it was much easier to do the riskier, more obvious way to escape. 

No one would expect it.

Hopping down to the lower level and pressing himself against the wall, he crab-walked until he found the door leading into the kitchen.

He slipped through, greeting the staff who all shook their heads at him. They knew better than to dissuade him from doing what he was about to do.  All Geneveive, the head cook, could do was send him off with a bag of food with a “Hurry back now or James will have our heads.”

Biting off a piece of bread, he thanked her with a wink and was off, dancing around the extra busy kitchen and putting on his headphones in the process.

With Nirvana blaring in his ears, Lukas made it to the waterfront and hopped into one of the more modest fishing boats (exchanging one of Genevieve’s sponge cakes for the keys. Thank you, Garrison) and motored off to the islet a few miles out.

20 minutes later, he moored to the dingy port where two other boats were stationed on the small piece of land.

“Oh my god,” he heard someone holler, a guy about his age with jet-black hair and swim trunks, “Is that the future King of Solaria?”

Lukas rolled his eyes, lugging around the small back, “Oh my god. Is that Reginald? The future King of the Crescent Cape?” he mimicked.

Another boy, blonde and tall, lay under the shade of a tree reading, scoffed, “Unfortunately.”

Reginald and Lukas locked eyes and smirked.

“Wait,” Reginald squinted at the blonde, “Is that- No way! It is, Lukas!”

“It so is!” Lukas gasped excitedly, “You’re Prince Alexander!”

“Of the Grybrian Isles? OMG!”

“Thought he’d be taller,”

“Thought he’d be more handsome,”

Alexander got to his feet, rolling his eyes, “Alright. Can you two be any more louder? Do you want them to find us?”

“Chill, they haven’t caught us yet,” Reginald reassured, leading the two other princes deeper into the patch of greenery on the tiny island, one that they all had discovered and have been running to to get away from prince duties for years now.

Lukas would have been driven to madness by royal duties if it weren’t for his friends from the neighboring kingdoms. He, Reginald, and Alexander had known each other their whole lives, their domains all clustered together that made visiting each other so easy. 

But every now and then, they needed to get away from the watchful eye of their parents and guards and the citizens and just be… them.

Lukas was lucky to know that he wasn’t alone in feeling this way, and that he could always turn to his friends.

“You goons better be hungry,” Lukas announced, tossing the bag of food their way.

Reggie dug into the snacks ravenously, “When aren’t we?”

Meanwhile, Alex was pacing, set on a nervous bender, “Aren’t you guys… I don’t know… kinda nervous?”

“Hey,” Lukas flicked a crumb at the other prince, hitting his calf mid-stride, “Thought we weren’t gonna talk about it today.”

“We’re all gonna be king soon, how can we not talk about it?”

The three of them sighed.

Alexander continued on the runway, “I mean, do you feel ready? I’m not ready,”

“Nope,” Reginald popped the ‘p’, frowning, “I hate being the oldest.”

“Why do we have to rule a country at 17? That’s stupid,” Lukas complained, searching through the bushes

“‘It’s tradition, Alexander. It’s what you must do. For the good of Grybria’,” Alexander impersonated, “Ugh. My brother just had to abdicate. Can’t I do that? Can I just abdicate?”

“Your dad would never let you,”

“Maybe if I told him I’m gay, he’d disown me?”

“Alexander,” Lukas warned.

“I was joking!” the blonde muttered, “...mostly.”

“Well what about me?” Reginald started, “I couldn’t take care of a bunny. How can I run a country?!”

Lukas felt around the ground until he hit leather and lugged out a guitar case he had stashed for safe keeping.

“Boys, let’s just… drop it today,” he deescalated. Funny, since he was up for coronation first, his rehearsal ceremony in a few hours, but he was determined to squeeze in some quality time with his friends before he couldn’t anymore, “Can we just chill? For a little while?” While they still could...

The other princes nodded.

“Okay. Now…” he took out his guitar and slung the strap over his shoulder, “Wanna jam?”

That brought a smile onto all of their faces.

They gathered in a circle, Lukas signaling at Alexander, who immediately began clapping a beat:

“1, 2, 3, 4-”

Tagging: @blush-and-books @lydias--stiles @echocharm17618 @rainfallingfromthesky @pink-flame @ourstarscollided @caffeine-catastrophe @nottheleastbrave @brightattheorpheum @thedeathdeelers @tmp-jatp   @lenacarstairspotterstewart @harpersdagger @annabelle-grisha-goddess @shelvesofgold @lwhoscribbles @futurearchaeologyprof @iridescentkippen @heademptynothoughts @crummycassidy @smolfangirl @a-dream-so-alive @that-one-utensil @lucid-h @homeinabookshelf @beaniesflannelandfannypacks @ilovefandoms @it-tastes-like-lizard

[buttherainbowhasabeard]

Promising Young Woman (2021)

*contains spoilers*

Revenge is a dish best served stone-cold sober…

Delightful and dimpled British star Carey Mulligan has had a successful career to date, playing alongside leading men such as Leonardo DiCaprio (‘The Great Gatsby’), Ryan Gosling (‘Drive’) and Michael Fassbender (‘Shame’). Despite not always being centre stage, many of Mulligan’s film choices have been eclectic in terms of genre, and it seems this winning combination of offbeat and orthodox have all led to her explosive lead role in the indie assault on the senses that is ‘Promising Young Woman’.

Carey is Cassandra Thomas, a 30-year-old whose promising career as a doctor went into a tailspin when she dropped out of medical school following the rape of her best friend Nina Fisher at the rough hands of their classmates. It’s implied that Nina – overwhelmed by what happened to her and the lack of support or investigative interference – committed suicide, and in the years since, Cassie has dedicated her life to avenging her friend’s death. Rather than continuing to try to take the claims up with police, Cassie turns unconventional vigilante and offers herself up as hot-mess boy bait, spending her nights fake falling-down drunk in bars and clubs to see and document how many men attempt to take advantage of her. Going so far – arguably stupidly so – as to let them take her home, Cassie abruptly reveals her sobriety to shock them into acknowledging and lamenting their predatory behaviour.

These scenes in particular are deliciously satisfying – that moment the self-proclaimed “nice guy” realises his unwilling date is more than aware of her surroundings and is going to confront him about them. The genius of these moments is in the power of Mulligan’s swift and drastic transformations. She doesn’t need to threaten or produce a weapon to take control, her stark sobriety is enough.

Making her feature filmmaking debut, director Emerald Fennell has had her fair share of femme fatale experience as head writer on Season 2 of TV’s addictive ‘Killing Eve’. Her love of strong, clever but chaotic women are all bundled into one with the creation of Cassie. She’s a Villanelle-esque sexy sociopath with a skewed moral compass, complimented by a noughties heavy soundtrack featuring a screechy orchestral remix of Britney Spears’ ‘Toxic’, a rom-com inspired routine to Paris Hilton’s ‘Stars Are Blind’, and DeathbyRomy’s cover of the Weather Girls’ ‘It’s Raining Men’.

‘Promising Young Woman’ could just as easily be called Privileged Young Men. With a narrative that draws on #MeToo, toxic masculinity and on campus rape culture and rituals, this is a film that is unapologetic about its subject matter and in your face about its opinions on it. There are not-so-subtle traces of trends that are played out in real life today, like dismissing women’s allegations to protect men’s reputations. Whilst Nina’s life was destroyed and her credibility doubted, male peers like perpetrator Al Monroe (Chris Lowell) and his sleazy friend Joe (Max Greenfield) were given glowing references, advanced to the top of their fields and became popular pillars of their communities, industries and social circles.

Although predictable for me, the eventual reveal of the one good man from Cassie’s past being complicit in Nina’s rape (her happy-to-take-it-slow boyfriend Ryan played by a charmingly goofy Bo Burnham), is a gasp out loud moment. Her world is once again shattered beyond repair when she realises the relationship that has made her happy for the first time in a long time was built on a lie (or to give him the benefit of the doubt, a very bad mistake). He is the first man she felt she could trust, be herself around, and fall in love with, but she discovers that underneath he was at worst, another one of the guys, and at best, an indefensible bystander.

You’d be forgiven for thinking ‘Promising Young Woman’ is all anti-men. Everything about it - on the surface and in the trailer - screams angry, bra burning feminist. However, it’s more nuanced than that and takes more of an anti-bad men, anti-bad women and anti-bad behaviour stance, as many of the movie’s female characters also have to confront the fact that their refusal or disinterest to speak up and call out abuse has enabled criminal conduct to set in, rot and spread. Cassie - an anti-hero herself - holds a grubby mirror up to the faces of the women from her college days with varying degrees of cunning and callousness, from feigning the abduction and pimping out of the University Dean Elizabeth Walker’s daughter, to tricking an inebriated former classmate (Alison Brie) into thinking she was unfaithful, or worse, sexually assaulted, in a hotel room.

Cassie’s methods are extreme and quite frankly mad, but her motives are steeped in an obsessive desire to do right by her friend and seek justice whatever the cost (the latter playing out in tragic but successful fashion in the finale). She is an intentionally entangled fly, luring spiders of all shapes and sizes to the centre of the web, daring them to do their worst. Most times she is well prepared, and even when it seems like she’s bitten off more than she can chew, another dose of vigorous vengeance is plunged in (even if it has to be done posthumously!)

Physically too, she’s a calculating chameleon. From pigtails, flowery blouses and flats for a girl-next-door look, to blow-job blotted lips, tight dresses and skyscraper stilettos to give off a late-night pick-up vibe, every element of her outfit is deliberate and devious. Dressed up in a wig the colour of a Rainbow Paddle Pop and sexy stripper nurse outfit in the film’s final act, Cassie is the literal sexual objectification of the promising young medical practitioner she could have been. Instead, she’s a practitioner of pain, turning Monroe’s bachelor party into her plastered patients.

Handcuffing Al to the bed upstairs, it looks like she’s reeled in her biggest fish to date. “It's every man's worst nightmare, getting accused of something like that,” Al cries, to which a deadpan Cassie replies “can guess what every woman's worst nightmare is?” But soon the tables turn when he breaks free, overpowers her and smothers her to death with a pillow. It’s a brutal and distressingly drawn-out scene, and it takes a while before it hits you that she really is dead and this is where her sad story ends. Joe and Al burn her body. It’s all over. Or so you think.

We cut to Al’s wedding, and as Juice Newton’s ‘Angel of the Morning’ plays, Ryan begins to receive scheduled texts from Cassie, taunting him from beyond the grave with a juicy contingency plan. Using Al’s ex-attorney Jordan Green (Alfred Molina) and his regret and grief over representing the wrong party to her advantage, Cassie had sent him incriminating evidence about Nina’s assault and her own demise in advance. “You didn't think this was the end, did you? It is now” the first texts read, as police sirens wail and officers emerge from the woods to arrest Al for murder. “Enjoy the wedding! Love, Cassie & Nina” the final messages say, followed by a perfectly placed winky face emoticon as Fletcher’s ‘Last Laugh’ cues the end credits. It’s a gratifying water cooler moment, bona fide badass yet bittersweet, but you’re still left wondering if it was all worth it.

‘Promising Young Woman’ could be cut from the same tortured heroine cloth as ‘The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo’, ‘Kill Bill’ and ‘The Handmaid’s Tale’, with Nina and Cassie’s friendship rivalling ‘Thelma & Louise’. It covers a lot of taboo territories and topics, from slut shaming to consent and coercion, and evokes the harrowing Margaret Atwood quote “Men are afraid women will laugh at them. Women are afraid men will kill them”.

‘Promising Young Woman’ is not for the faint hearted, and anyone who fears the film may be triggering should stay well clear. It’s not always easy viewing and it’s not always fair, however it’s more than just a pitch-black comedy or clear-cut tale of rape-revenge. It’s a brave, bold and original satire with bite and brains.

4/5 stars.

[strawberrylemonz]

Strictly Business

Part 3

Part 4 [CURRENT]

Part 5

DT: @lynnarts @snapdragonfirefly @artistconk

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

Techno was busy today. Tommy couldn’t help but notice that the king was becoming more and more busier as the days turned to years. He couldn’t really complain, he was busy too. He was a big man, after all! Big men have big men things to do! Besides, Tommy was eight now! He had big man classes to take! He had to be the cool one and attend to his princely matters. Life was great, but it was also boring as days went by. Don’t get him wrong, he enjoyed his time in the castle. The only downside was his repetitive schedule whilst he grows older. Going into his daily lessons was starting to become boring and lonely, no matter how many instructors and guards were around him. As much as he cared for and appreciated everyone, he desperately wanted friends. More importantly, he wanted friends his age.

“Prince Theseus, you did wonderfully! That concludes today’s lesson! Be sure to go over all of the study material for testing. Have a nice afternoon.”

His instructor didn’t even wait for him to answer, packing up and leaving the room. The young prince sighed, boredom already filling him. Peeking out the room, he took note that his usual guards weren’t there. Slowly creeping out, he peered over the corner to see them conversing with each other. Peeking over to the nearest clock, he realized that his instructor had dismissed him early. Smiling to himself, he quietly slipped away. Once he was sure that he wasn’t being watched, he slipped behind a pillar. Crawling into a small hole behind it, he stood up into the secret tunnels. He had discovered the tunnels after his seventh birthday. He spent so long in them, cleaning and decorating them, that he had the entire layout of the castle memorized. It was the answer to how he managed to never miss a class so far, which impressed everyone. It was his little secret, one that he loved. Making his way down the tunnels, he swapped his princely coat for a brown cloak he left in the tunnels to work as a backup disguise. He had successfully changed into his casual shoes as he finally came across a wall. Moving a bit of stone out of the way, he peered into the cellar of the castle. After confirming that it was empty, he crawled out and returned the stone. Scrambling to the cellar doors that led outside, he carefully opened them. He suppressed a giggle as he made it outside, unseen.

“Are the carts ready to go?”

He heard people approaching, their voices growing in volume as they walked closer to his direction. Looking around, he hummed as he climbed into a cart of hay. Squeezing himself into the hay as a hiding spot, he suppressed his laughter as he felt the cart move. After a few minutes, he peeked out to see that he was out of the castle walls and in the city. Wonderful. He waited until the cart stopped at the edge of the city before getting out. Smiling to himself, he happily set off to search for adventure in the unexplored parts of the city.

--------

The water looked beautiful. Tommy happily watched the fish swim about the docs, a bundle of flowers in his hand as he studied their colors and forms. He was content with just sitting there, listening as the citizens went about their day. His smile faltered, however, when he heard yelps. Peering to the right of him, he saw some older boys follow two boys into the woods. The two boys, who appeared to be around Tommy’s age, seemed nervous. Puffing his cheeks in anger and annoyance, Tommy stood to his feet and stomped over to the group. He watched as the older preteens pushed the two boys to the ground, laughing as they teased the two. Tommy had enough of it. Putting the flowers in his knapsack, he stormed up the older boys, anger fueling him. These pricks didn’t have the right to be such jerks!

“Hey! Leave them alone!”

The older boys turned to face Tommy, who stood behind them in a confident stance. He crossed his arms in annoyance as the older boys barked out in laughter. They couldn’t see the anger that was filling the boy’s eyes, eyes hidden beneath the hood of his cloak.

“Aw, da wittle baby came to save his fwiends?”

“What are you gonna do, brat? Cry?”

Tommy was fuming! He wasn’t a baby! He was a big man! As prince, it was his job to take care of the people of the kingdom! Picking up a large stick, Tommy pointed it at the boys with confidence.

“I’ll fight you!”

And he did. Despite his size, he was able to do pretty good damage to his foes. Despite the lack of experience due to Techno just now putting him in lessons, he held his own for a good amount of time. But a stick in the hands of a child could only do so much. As he swung at the knees of another boy, he was intercepted. His stick was snatched away, causing him to momentarily lose his balance. He couldn’t help the yelp that escaped his lips as he was snatched up by the collar of his cloak.

“Aw, is the baby scared now that he’s been stopped? You really shouldn’t have done that, brat. Now, we’re gonna make you regret it.”

Tommy gave no shits. Screaming a string of curse words he picked up from the guards who were off duty, Tommy reeled back his foot. Using all his strength, he kicked the boy in the crotch with all his might. The boy cursed, doubling over in pain. Tommy used this chance to try and run to the terrified boys he was helping, but he was stopped. A friend of crotch boy pulled him into the air.

“You little shit! You’re gonna pay for that!”

The next thing Tommy knew, he was pummeling towards a sharp rock. That was the moment that Tommy realized he had been thrown to the ground. Remembering the safety lessons he was taught, he covered his head as he hit the ground, the sharp rock cutting his cheek. Anger and hurt filled him as tears filled his eyes, head swimming with many thoughts as laughter filled the air. Wiping away his tears, Tommy returned to his feet, turning to face the older boys. The laughter instantly stopped. Tommy was confused by their widened eyes, fear filling their gazes. He reached up to wipe the blood that was trailing from his cut, only to realize why they were acting weird. His hood was off.

“The prince!”

“Shit! Run, quick!”

“Fuck, the king is gonna be pissed off! Scurry!”

Fucking cowards. Huffing, Tommy frowned at his dirtied clothes, along with his bruises and scrapes. Pa was not going to like this.

“You were so cool!”

“Yeah! Thank you!”

Tommy turned to see the two boys happily yapping about how cool Tommy had looked when he stood up and fought against the older boys. He blinked a few times, a small smile finding its way to his face.

“Cool?”

“Yeah! Very cool!”

“Cool! Cool!”

“I guess it kind of was. They were cowards, though.”

“You’re bleeding! Oh no!”

The two boys began to panic as they began to realize how injured the boy really was. Much to their relief, the cut on his cheek was the only injury to break skin.

“I’m Luke, this is Bitzel. Thank you for saving us!”

“Er, I’m Tommy. It’s no problem, big man.”

“C’mon, we know someone that can help with the bleeding so it doesn’t get infected!”

Tommy hesitated for a moment, but only a moment. Nodding to the two boys, he followed them to a small cottage on the edge of the city. He snorted in amusement as the two barged in, uninvited. Following them in, he took off his shoes and placed them besides the shoes of the boys. Taking off his cloak, he let Bitzel hang it up as Luke called out into the house.

“Deo! Your bestest buddies are here! We have someone who needs help! His name is Tommy!”

Tommy tilted his head in confusion as Deo entered the room. He had expected an adult or guardian of some sort, not an eleven year old boy. Deo took one look at Tommy, only to sigh as he faced the other two boys.

“Luke, Bit, why is Prince Theseus here?”

“He saved us!”

“Pf, your real name is Theseus?”

“That’s one of my middle names, my real name is Thomas. That doesn’t matter, I told you guys to call me Tommy!”

Before anyone knew it, Tommy got into a playful banter with the other two children his age. Just as he was about to start cursing, a hand stopped him. Peering over his shoulder, he watched as Deo flashed him a genuine smile.

“Alright Tommy, let’s get you cleaned up. Want something to eat while you're at it?”

“Uh, sure. Thanks, big man.”

Deo just snorted as he ruffled the younger boy's hair, motioning the three kiddos to follow him. Tommy felt warmth squeeze his heart as he slowly touched his hair, feeling the spot where Deo’s hand once was. Giving himself a smile, Tommy laughed as he followed the three into the dining room. He may have just found what he was looking for.

[2manyfandoms2count]

Poisson d'avril

Here, have a half-baked April Fool’s Day fic my brain decided to wake me up for. For context, one of the most popular jokes for April 1st in France is taping paper fish to each other’s backs, the more original the fish the better (my childhood is filled with trying to sneak behind teachers' backs to tape one on them; they were very chill about it, tbh). Poisson d’Avril is also what you say at the end of a joke on that day (think "sike", but festive). More about this great tradition that apparently dates back to at least 1466 here.

Hope you enjoy!

Read on AO3

---

Marinette loved April Fool’s Day at Françoise Dupont. The school was always buzzing with little pranks at that time of the year, the blooming spring giving a wonderfully cheerful backdrop to the shenanigans the collégiens were up to.

These were all very light-hearted, if sometimes a little elaborate.

As usual, some students had been found early in the morning in the classrooms, thwarting their attempt to recreate the legendary horizontal fiasco of 20XX, where everything had been set up to look like the rooms had been flipped by 90°. Mr Damoclès had let them go mercifully, thankful that the students hadn’t been tempted to glue everything to the ceiling in an effort to one-up their predecessors. Somehow, he wouldn’t have put it past Kim and Alix to try and coordinate the project, as a last hurrah before heading on to lycée.

There were also seemingly well-meaning classmates offering chouquettes or donuts in the courtyard, which Marinette knew to stay well away from, knowing the former were likely sprinkled with coarse salt, and the latter filled with the likes of mayonnaise instead of jam. She’d been in their shoes a couple of years prior, building her classmates’ trust by bringing them the sweet delicacies every day for a week, and switching on April 1st as a joke.

Heading to class, she heard a lot of laughter, people telling jokes, or trying to see how far they could take a story without it being called out on it (this year, Nino had Kim panicking over a brevet exam part they supposedly had, which was a step down from the previous year, where he’d convinced him that everybody needed to come in dressed up in medieval costumes, and that he’d landed the court jester role; his friend had turned up the next day in a full outfit, complete with bells on his hat and shoes, and upon discovering the deception, had decided to make good use of them and make the joke everybody’s problem).

However much she enjoyed those kinds of pranks, though, Marinette’s favourite remained the classic poisson d’avril: taping paper fish to people’s backs. It was something anyone could take part in, as a predator or a prey, with or without premeditation. You didn’t necessarily need scissors and tape, if you managed to steal some from somebody else’s back.

Marinette liked to take it seriously. Done right, the exercise demanded stealth she’d had even as a little kid, and had honed ever since being chosen to become Ladybug, as well as creativity she had piles of. She’d stayed up the previous night, making plenty of fish varying in size and colour, some tailored to her friends, like the Rena Rouge and Carapace ones that were intended for Alya and Nino respectively. She’d of course also made the rest of the Miraculous team, as well as some other designs based on Kitty section, her classmates, or celebrities.

As always at the end of the day, Rose walked around with a whole school on her back. It wasn’t clear if she was completely oblivious to it, or if she knew what was going on but enjoyed the giddy giggles of the people who managed to add an extra fish in, or take one off.

The only person who’d managed to escape the prank so far was Adrien, and it wasn’t for lack of trying. Kim, Alix and Nino had gone to great lengths to get at least one fish on his back, even recruiting Markov to sneak behind him, but the boy seemed to have a sixth sense.

No sooner did he hear the faintest of ruffles, that his head would jerk up, eyes darting around to figure out where the sound had come from, thwarting any efforts, no matter how elaborate they’d been.

Marinette had been reluctant to target Adrien, despite having a special fish for him, complete with his stripes and an orange-tipped tail, but as the day went by and more people joined the challenge to trick him, she felt the urge to compete rise in her chest and started unwillingly tracking his every movement, trying to find a breach in his focus.

It was a fastidious process, even for someone who enjoyed watching Adrien happily live his life, but it paid off around the end of the day, just after the last bell.

Marinette noticed that Adrien’s shirt looked a little rumpled around the back as they were retrieving books from their lockers, and approached him calmly.

“Adrien?” She announced her presence when she was right behind him, surprised that he hadn’t turned around yet. He almost jumped out of his skin at the sound of her voice.

“Marinette!” He yelped, a hand flying to his heart. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you approach.” He chuckled nervously.

“No, I’m sorry I scared you!” Marinette looked down, apparently sheepish. In truth, she was cursing inwardly at the missed easy opportunity. Adrien had been at ease with her coming closer, which she assumed was because it was the end of the day and he’d started letting his guard down; she could have gone about her business and he would’ve been none the wiser. She shook her head; it didn’t matter, she’d just go on with her original plan. “It’s just that… well, it’s stupid, but the back of your shirt is a little creased, and I know how important your appearance is to your family so… Do you mind if I fix it?”

“Thanks Marinette, that’d be awesome.” He smiled at her in a way that would have made her lose her cool, had it been any other day. But she was on a mission, and there was no way she was letting the opportunity of pranking Adrien when nobody else had managed the feat go by.

“Okay, let me just…” Marinette reached into her purse and took the first piece of paper she felt, before gently taping it to Adrien’s shirt, making sure to smooth the fabric at the same time so he wouldn’t realise what she was doing.

“There, all done!” She smiled when she was satisfied the tape had adhered well enough.

He smiled back at her, but was interrupted in his thanks by Nino and Alya calling for them to hurry up.

“Today was really fun, I’m so glad I got to experience it first hand,” Adrien beamed as the group walked out of the building, Nino and Adrien a little ahead of the girls. “And I’m really proud that I survived it without getting pranked!”

Marinette bit back a laugh, eyes darting to his back.

“I wouldn’t be so confident, Sunshine,” Alya replied, untaping the fish from his back and handing it to him.

“What…” Adrien stopped in his tracks, looking at it, and particularly Marinette’s signature on the back of the piece of paper, in disbelief. He turned around with a look of mock betrayal. “I can’t believe you’d do this to me!” He pouted.

“I couldn’t just let you off the hook,” she shrugged with a small smile, making a mental note to reuse the phrase with Chat Noir when she saw him later. He’d enjoy the pun.

Adrien let out a small chuckle as he turned the fish around, but the sound died as he saw the pattern. The colour drained from his face and he froze as he took in the black and green colour scheme and the fish’s whiskers.

“Adrien? Is everything okay?” Marinette frowned, noticing his change in body language.

“Yeah, um… Can I talk to you for a second?” He looked up at her.

“What a great idea!” Alya pushed Marinette towards Adrien before hooking her arm through Nino’s and starting to go down the stairs. “We’ll see you guys tomorrow!”

Marinette thought she heard her add “Can you believe they might get together over an April Fool’s joke?”, as she waved them off absentmindedly, but her gaze met Adrien’s troubled one and she decided she’d deal with her best friend later.

“What’s up?” She asked, feeling a blush creep up her cheeks; the adrenaline from succeeding her challenge was evidently starting to wear off.

“What’s this?” Adrien asked cautiously, handing her the fish.

Marinette took it cautiously, saw the pattern, and smiled. “It’s a poisson-chat noir,” she said proudly. It was a bit of a shame she’d picked that one for Adrien, but she guessed she couldn’t have kept it for her partner anyway, given that she’d signed it. Still, she thought he would have liked the joke. Especially if it came from Ladybug.

“How did you know?” he murmured, looking at her incredulously. She tilted her head, raising her eyebrows at his cryptidness. He explicited his thoughts. “I saw the fish you gave Alya and Nino, and the one you managed to pin on Chloé; they were all references to their superhero selves. And now you get this one right as well… How did you know?”

It was Marinette’s turn to freeze and feel the colour draining from her cheeks. “I… I didn’t. I picked one randomly when I saw an opening.”

“Oh.” She saw the cogs turning in Adrien’s brain while she felt her own shut down, still processing one important piece of information.

“Adrien… Are you Chat Noir?”

“Um… Poisson d’avril?” He ventured.

“Adrien.” She repeated sternly.

“Okay, fine, you got me.” Adrien huffed, raking a hand through his hair. “Please, don’t tell Ladybug.” He pleaded.

“Too late, I’m afraid.” She dug out her poisson-Ladybug and taped it to herself. She saw Adrien’s eyes grow as wide as his smile before being engulfed in a hug and feeling his lips on her forehead. “Kwami, we really might get together over an April Fool’s joke,” she muttered against his chest. If the heat she felt at the tip of her ears said anything, she probably was as red as Ladybug’s costume, and it probably wouldn’t go unnoticed.

“What was that?” Adrien pulled out a little from their hug to look at her.

“Nothing.” She smiled, and took his hand. “Now come on Chaton, we have some things to discuss, and we should probably go somewhere more private.”

“You know I’d follow you anywhere, my Lady.” He picked their entwined hands and kissed hers.

Really, she thought as they made their way towards her parents’ boulangerie, she loved poissons d’avril.

[chaoticpuff17]

Something Wicked

part 2

masterlist

Here you go, my darlings! Hope you’re all having a lovely spooky season! If any of you have some spooky song recommendations or some song’s you think would fit Jin’s aesthetic let me know! I’m compiling my writing playlist for something wicked!---chaotic puff

Didn’t she realize that it was a privilege to have the attention of Kim Seokjin? He had a billion dollar corporate empire. He could have any woman in the world, but he had chosen her. Yet, she had chosen to be with a lowly man from his own company. What did he have that Jin didn’t? What could he offer her that Jin couldn’t? Nothing. The answer was nothing.

It made his blood boil, the thought of his precious darling in the arms of a salary man, a mere employee. Why choose such a man when he was right in front of her? Had he not lavished her with enough attention? Had he not made himself clear? His poor darling had lowered herself to such a level when he was more than happy to give her anything she desired, and yet she resisted him. She scorned his advances and let this mere peasant bask in her presence.  

“Oppa,” A whiny voice grated against his ears forcing him to pull his attention from her and put it back onto the woman wrapped up in his sheets batting her eyes at him in what she must have thought was a sensual look. “Come back to bed, oppa.” She pouted reaching out for him.

His eyes were cold and lifeless as he assessed her. “Get out.”

“Excuse me?” Her voice had lost all of its babyish charm to taken on an incredulous tone.

“Get out.” He repeated tone sharp as he assessed her. When she didn’t move, Seokjin sighed reaching over the bed fishing his wallet out of his slacks and pulling out a few bills to throw at her. “Take it and go.”

“I’m not a prostitute!” She squawked glaring at him.

He scoffed running a hand through his hair and smirking cruelly down at her allowing his cold gaze to trail down her body. “You dress like one, and you certainly fuck like one. Now get out.” He snapped wanting the annoying woman out of his room. Women like her weren’t worthy of coming to his home. They were only ever invited to one of his hotels.

He waited for her to leave before he pulled himself out of bed and dressed himself calling his driver to take him home. He wanted the feel of her filthy, unworthy hands off his body and the comfort of his own Egyptian cotton sheets. More than that, he wanted his darling there in his arms and safely away from that man, not a man, a boy. His darling was too good for such a man.

He could remember the first time he had seen her four years ago. She had walked into his office so young and naïve. She was fresh out of college with no work experience and no real options, and yet she thought she could be his assistant. His assistants never lasted long, so why not hire the pretty young thing that had waltzed into his office practically trembling with nerves?

He had never expected her to last as long as she had, but she had surprised him. She was a fast learner and eager to please.

She had dropped to her knees tears heavy on her lashes as Jin scolded her for her mistake. She had messed up the contracts that had needed to go out tomorrow. As a result both she and Jin would have to stay late to fix them.

“I’m so sorry, sajangnim.” She whimpered trying her best to keep her tears from falling. “This is all my fault.”

He was surprised to see her on her knees before him, but not in a bad way. She looked so sweet and helpless before him, so weak.

“I’ll fix it.” She promised lips trembling as she apologized frightened of his wrath. “I’ll stay all nigh if I have to. It was my mistake. It’s my burden to bear.”

He smiled mentally cooing at the image. Such a sweet submissive creature perfect to be molded to his will.

“Things that were hard to bear are sweet to remember.”  He told her helping her up gently patting her head as one would a scolded puppy. “Come now, Y/N. We have work to do.”

He’d known in that moment she was perfect for him. No woman was worthy of Kim Seokjin, none that he had found, but perhaps he could make one. From that day on he had started molding her to his will. She knew everything about him, how to take care of him just and did it all with a sweet smile. Years of work had gone into making her perfect for him. She had been molded from a trembling child into the perfect assistant, and then into the perfect woman for him. He had never given so much attention to a woman before. How could she not see that? Could she not see how much time and effort he devoted towards her?

His darling would never be so unappreciative. It must have been that man’s fault, that Kim Min Seok. He was ruining her, distracting her from what really mattered, distracting her from him. But not to worry, all would be well. He would save her from her own naivety. How was his poor stupid darling supposed to know that other men were no good for her? He’d get rid of the other man, and everything would be perfect again.

The poor soul thought he could take Jin’s darling away from him, but Jin had just the thing for him. It was fortuitous that the ingrate worked for him. It made getting rid of him so much simpler. It was a just matter of firing him, though it almost seemed like letting him off too easily. The idiot thought he could propose to Jin’s darling.

The thought darkened Jin’s mood even further. His men had discovered that Min Seok had bought a ring planning to propose to Y/N and take her away to Busan once he got his promotion. He thought he was going to take her far away from him, but Jin was never going to let that happen. Min Seok wouldn’t be getting the promotion, and he certainly wouldn’t be proposing to Y/N.

The worst of it was that they had been carrying on their illicit affair for a year. As soon as Jin had stopped keeping dabs on her, she had gone and sought the attention of another man. In a way Jin blamed himself. If he had continued to keep an eye on her, this never would have happened. The problem would have been resolved before it had ever had the chance to even begin. He should have kept a closer eye on her. He’d be sure to do just that in the future.

“Y/N-ie,” He called out from his office almost gleeful about the news he was about to deliver. She was there in an instant smiling at him like she always did. “I need you to file some termination papers for me.”

“Termination papers?” She asked her smile dropping to be replaced by a look of confused sympathy. “Who am I filing them for?”

“Kim Min Seok.” He watched with glee as the color drained from her face and her eyes widened in mute horror.

“Can I ask the reason for termination?” The way her voice shook slightly didn’t escape him, nor did the way her hands clenched around the tablet she held. “I thought he was being considered for the position in Busan.”

The smile on his face had an almost vicious quality to it as he regarded her. “He’s been embezzling from the company. The police will be coming for him soon.”

Jin was quick to stand and catch her as she stumbled in her heels gently leading her over to the sofa to sit. “Are you alright, darling?” He fussed hovering over her.

“I’m fine, just a little light headed.” She said trying to paste on a reassuring smile though Jin saw right through it.

“Why don’t I get you some water, darling?” He cooed placing a hand on her shoulder, happy to see her so complaint under his touch.

“That’s really not…”

“I’ll get you some water. I can’t have my best girl fainting on me.” He ordered sternly trying to hide his satisfaction.

He poured her a glass of water and brought it back to her settling himself beside her on the sofa. “Should I call for a doctor?” He prodded placing a hand across her forehead to check her temperature feigning ignorance as to her reaction. She pushed his hand away gently shooting him a shaky smile though that didn’t stop him from fussing over her. “You should have told me if you weren’t feeling well, darling.”  

“I’m fine, really, sajangnim.”

She was anything but fine. Min Seok was going to be fired for embezzlement. She had no idea, and she honestly couldn’t believe it. Min Seok was a good man, a sweet man. He would never do something like this. Why would he risk everything when he was about to get such a good job? Why would he risk both of their futures like that?

“Perhaps I should have Suho take you home.” Jin cooed sympathetically, rubbing gentle circles across her back taking the moment to bask in the scent of her perfume. It wasn’t the rose today, he noted with a frown. It had a darker amber tone to it that he didn’t recognize. A gift from her suitor perhaps, a thought that did not please him. The only perfumes she should wear were the ones he gifted her.

“Really, sajangnim. I’m fine.” She assured eyes wide as she turned her gaze to him. “I should get back to work. Thank you for the concern.” She bowed standing up ready to flee, but Jin grabbed her wrist stopping her from leaving.

“You’re still very pale, darling. Sit here for a bit. I’ll have one of the other secretaries file the paperwork.” He cooed pulling her back down onto the couch.

“I’m really fine, sajangnim. I’ll take care of this right away.” She tried to stand, but a firm hand on her shoulder kept her seated.

His gaze was firm as he stared her down. “I really think you should rest, darling.” He saw she was about to protest again but cut her off before she could. “If you don’t rest here, I’ll have Suho take you home.” He threatened perfectly serious. He knew it was only the shock, but his darling was too sweet for her own good, and he couldn’t have her running off to see her boy toy before the police dragged him away.

“Alright.” She sighed sipping at her water again though all she wanted to do was march downstairs and ask Min Seok what exactly was going on before the police dragged him away. “Thank you, sajangnim.”

Jin was happy to have her there choosing to remain by her side while she “rested” and keep an eye on her.  He didn’t intend for them ever to see each other again, and her shock gave him the perfect excuse to keep her close and out of the way as the problem was dealt with.

Jin kept a sharp eye on her as he waited for a phone call from security telling him that the bastard had been dragged away. But the phone call he received was not what he was expecting.

“What?” He shouted anger rolling off him in waves and startling the still shocked woman sitting on his couch. Her eyes shot over to his wide and worried as a dark cloud settled over him.

“Sajangnim?” She asked rising from the sofa ready to do damage control for whatever had happened.

“Find him.” He hissed before slamming his phone down.

“Is everything alright, sajangnim?” She asked again stepping over to the desk. “Is there anything I can do?”

He took a deep breath trying to stamp down his annoyance so as not to frighten her. “No, darling. I was just informed that the little rat got away.”

It was as if a bolt of lightning had hit her. “Min Seok wasn’t arrested?”

“No.” He growled glaring down at his phone as though it had offended him. “Someone warned him. He got away before the police could arrive.”

“Oh.” She breathed out in a mixture of relief and shock much to Jin’s displeasure. His carefully laid plan was a mess, and she had the audacity to be relieved. How could she still be thinking of another man? “Is there anything you’d like me to do?” She asked snapping out of her reverie. “Should I coordinate with the police and security teams?” She rushed over to the sofa to pick up her tablet her mind whirling with possibilities.

Min Seok hadn’t been arrested? Was it alright to feel relieved? Should she want him to go to prison? Love was a crazy thing. Even if he had done what Seokjin said he had, and she still didn’t really believe that he would ever do such a thing, she didn’t want to see him in prison. He had always been such a good man, always so sweet to her.

“No, darling.” He sighed running a hand through his perfectly styled hair mussing it up, something he normally wouldn’t do. “You’re still pale. I think it would be best for you to go home.”

She shook her head fervently too wired to think about going home and stewing in her thoughts. “I think I would be of more use here, sajangnim.”

“You would be of no use to me if you fainted, darling.” He scolded standing up and taking the tablet from her hands. “You should rest.”

“But…”

“It’s not up for debate, Y/N.” He placed a hand on her back and practically pushed her out the door of his office. “Grab your bag. I’ll take you home myself.”

She wanted to protest, but there was really no arguing with Kim Seokjin. So she did as he said, and collected her things putting her work phone and tablet into her tote bag and closing out of her computer all under the watchful gaze of her boss.

He kept a hand on her back all the way down to the lobby despite the fact that she was no longer shaky on her feet. She hadn’t been since that first stumble, but that didn’t stop Jin from keeping her close and keeping his hand where it did not belong. She had tried to move away, but every time, Jin would replace his hand on her back again. She eventually gave up trying and just allowed him to keep it there.

The ride to her home was silent and awkward. Jin was seething that Min Seok had evaded him, and Y/N was caught up in thoughts of everything that had happened that day. Yesterday they had been having lunch together, and today he was on the run from the police. It just didn’t make sense. The Min Seok she knew would never do something like this. The more she thought about it the more it didn’t make sense.

She was only pulled out of these thoughts when they arrived at her home to be greeted by the sound of barking.

She sat up immediately on alert. “That’s Jinnie.”

Jin looked at her confused. What did she mean? He was sitting next to her, and he certainly didn’t make such an obscene sound. “Jinnie?”

“He’s a stray I take care of. Well, he’s really more my dog now than a stray. He’s not a fan of people, but he usually doesn’t bark. He should be inside actually.” Her brow furrowed further as she caught sight of the shaggy hair of the dog she’d spent so long trying to coax into her home. It had taken her ages to get the dog to trust her. She never left him outside when she was at work out of fear something would happen to him.

“You named your dog Jinnie?” He asked more offended than anything else.

She hummed in agreement before practically bolting out of the car with Jin following behind calling for her to come back.

She approached the dog cooing gently trying to get him to calm down. “Hello, handsome boy. How’s the most beautiful boy in the whole world?” The dog kept growling at her door, but one ear was cocked back in her direction and his tail was wagging slightly at the sound of her voice.

She was able to get close enough to grab his collar, but the human Jin had approached at this point much to the displeasure of the dog. He took one look at Seokjin and started growling moving to stand in front of Y/N protectively.

“I’m sorry. He doesn’t like strangers… or people really. He’s a little finicky.” She smiled nervously keeping a firm hand on his collar to keep him from lunging at her boss. “And he was already riled up. I think there’s someone in the house.”

“I’m calling the police.” Jin announced already pulling out his phone. “We’ll discuss your dog’s name later.”

She nodded moving to punch in the code to her house letting Jinnie run in ahead of her. Jinnie was by no means a small dog, and he was more than likely to chase out whoever had entered her home than she was. She went in after him much to her boss’ displeasure as he called for her to come back.

What they found inside, was not what she expected.

“Min Seok?”  

part 3

[jemmahazelnut]

The worst idea

Summary: After an afternoon of intense sex in the storm, Freed discovers he's not the only one who has caught a fever. So, he goes to his boyfriend to take care -and make fun- of him. [Freed/Gajeel]

Link: AO3

Notes: It's nothing special but I hope you enjoyed it.

The worst idea

“Fuck” Freed swore panting on the grass. He was muddy, naked, the rain kept beating on him, the wind was blowing hard and he didn't give a damn. He was still lost in pleasure after having perhaps the most incredible sex of his life. He turned his head wearily to Gajeel and smiled to see him in the same condition. The boy was sweating, dirty and with rain-soaked hair. His torso was full of marks and scratches Freed had left, and his chest rose and fell with each heavy breath.

“Fuck it was great,” Gajeel said turning his face to Freed. He smiled blissfully and kissed him. They were both exhausted, so the kiss was sloppy and only lasted a few seconds. Also because now they were both starting to feel cold given the states they were in in the midst of the storm.

“I think we should go home before we get sick,” Freed said, forcing himself to sit up and Gajeel did the same. They looked at each other for a moment as thunder rumbled above them and the rain poured down. Neither of them bothered to get dressed, also because half of the clothes had ended up torn and the other half was lost in the storm.

Gajeel tilted his head to the side and grinned.

“This was the best idea I've ever had.” Freed had nothing to argue.

***

That had been the worst idea Gajeel had ever had. Freed knew this. He had known it from the moment the boy had proposed it. He had also said it: having sex in the middle of a storm was a crazy idea. A crazy idea that only that beast of his boyfriend could have. Yet Freed had accepted.

He had been an idiot, because Gajeel had instigated him on purpose by saying that a little-prince like him wouldn’t have taken the blow. Freed hadn't been able to help himself at that point. He knew it was a clear instigation and he knew he would regret it. At that moment, however, he had wanted to prove to Gajeel that he wasn’t a fucking little-prince.

And ok, maybe he had also given up because Gajeel was hot at that moment. Very hot. God, if only Freed thought back to what his boyfriend had looked like with his soaked hair and wet tank top attached to his body, he could get hard again. Especially if he thought about how it ended later, rolling in the grass tearing each other's clothes off.

He had been stupid. Only Gajeel could drag him to do something like that. And now Freed obviously had a fever.

Fuck.

If Gajeel had found out he’d have teased Freed to no end, repeating that he was weak as a little-prince. Freed wanted to avoid that situation at all costs.

That's why he hadn't told anyone he was sick, not even Bickslow or Evergreen. He had shut himself up in the house and filled himself with healing herbs. Luckily, he had a lot of them in stock. He just hoped that no one would ask questions and that it would pass quickly. In any case, he could have said that he had been busy with some ancient and complex translation.

Freed thus spent three days barely standing. He ate little, slept most of the time, and stuffed himself with healing herbs. When Evergreen came to his house to find out why he was no longer in the guild, Freed managed to calm her down by saying that he’d had stressful days. It was a lie, but for a good purpose. Neither he nor Gajeel wanted to go public with their relationship yet, they were both very reserved. Besides, he certainly couldn't tell her that he had caught a fever after having sex in the storm. The girl would look at him as if he had gone mad. Maybe he really was since he had started dating Gajeel.

In any case, the three days passed and Freed began to feel better again. So, even though he hadn't fully recovered, he returned to the guild, hoping he hadn't raised any doubts in that beast of his boyfriend.

But when he arrived in the guild, Gajeel wasn’t there. At first, he thought he was in the library with Levy or doing some stupid challenge with Natsu. But the two wizards were there, while there wasn’t even a shadow of Gajeel. And he couldn't even have taken a mission, since Panther Lily was there too. In fact, it was strange that the Exceed was there without the Dragon Slayer.

Freed tried not to think about it and spent the afternoon with Bickslow and Evergreen, until curiosity got the better of him and he approached Panther Lily, finding him in a moment that he was alone.

“It's weird not seeing you with Gajeel,” he said pretending indifference. The Exceed looked up at him and smiled slightly.

“He's home with a fever,” he explained. Freed was surprised for a moment and Panther Lily widened his smile becoming amused. “From one night he came home soaked and scratched. He must have had an intense fight with a demon,” he added derisively. Freed remained silent again, hoping that the warmth he felt in his cheeks wouldn’t turn into an intense blush. So Panther Lily knew. It wasn't even that strange, he lived with Gajeel and he wasn't stupid.

“I understand,” he said.

“Well, I'm going fishing with Happy today. Hope someone will take care of Gajeel” said that, Panther Lily stood up and walked away towards the blue cat. Freed stood for a moment motionless. Had he just told him to go look after Gajeel? He hadn't been with him for a long time yet, they didn't have all that confidence, and proud as he was probably Gajeel would have kicked his ass out saying that he didn't need any help.

Freed smiled. It would have been fun.

***

When he got to Gajeel's apartment, Freed had to knock three times before the boy came to open the door. As soon as the Dragon Slayer saw that it was him, he was obviously surprised. Freed hadn't gone to his house often, and they usually went together when they knew Panther Lily wasn't there.

“The fuck are you doing here?” Gajeel asked in a snarl. Freed looked at him, he wasn't in his best status, but since he continued to be arrogant, he didn't even have to be that bad. At that point he didn't feel the slightest guilt about making fun of him.

“Panther Lily told me that a little-prince lost a fight to a demon and got sick,” he replied with a provocative smile. Gajeel grunted.

“I'm not in the mood,” he growled. “And you didn't win any fucking fights, you bastard,” he added and started to close the door. Freed put his arm on top of it to keep him from slamming it in his face and was surprised to feel that Gajeel wasn’t pushing as hard as he was. Maybe he was worse off than he showed.

“I haven't won any fight, but in the end you’re the sick one. Come on, I’m here to take care of you,” he said.

“I don't need help,” Gajeel grunted. Freed at that point raised the bag he was holding in his hands and gave a small smile to calm him down a bit.

“I’ve a soup with a mixture of metals that you might like,” he said. That seemed to be the trump card because Gajeel, after sniffing a bit, gave up.

“Good,” he grunted and turned and headed for the kitchen. Freed, finally satisfied, entered his apartment and after closing the door behind him, followed Gajeel. The Dragon Slayer took out a saucepan and placed it on the stove, then took the container from Freed's hands and spilled the contents inside.

“I'll do it, you go lay down,” Freed said.

“I only let you in to eat and for some company,” Gajeel clarified grumpily. “I don't need any help,” he repeated. Freed raised an eyebrow. It was evident that Gajeel wasn’t in the best condition, probably his head was spinning and he just wanted to sleep. He knew the boy was proud, but he really wanted to help him.

“Well, unfortunately for you mine isn't a request, it's an order. Go sit down and don't complain. I cooked this and I bet you don't even know how much you’ve to heat it, with the amount of metal I put in it, you could make a disaster” he said categorically. Gajeel started to reply, but then, maybe out of weariness, maybe because he didn't want to argue, he turned around and without saying anything went back into the living room.

Freed then heated the contents, mixed a little and poked around in Gajeel's cabinets, adding some spice that the Dragon Slayer would have liked and that wouldn’t have made the soup too heavy. Once it was ready, he went back into the living room and noticed that the boy was sitting with his head leaning against a pillow and a grimace on his face. He was paler than before and Freed decided to drop the jokes on the tip of his tongue.

“Here,” he said, sitting next to him and handing him the soup.

“Mpf, hope it's good,” Gajeel muttered taking the plate and Freed snorted lightly.

“A thank you is enough,” he muttered but he knew from experience that Gajeel wouldn’t thank him. Gajeel began to eat and Freed smiled slightly as the Dragon Slayer muttered that it wasn't bad.

“I didn't know you told Panther Lily about us,” he said after a while.

“I didn’t. That damn cat found out for himself,” explained Gajeel. “And he saw me when I came home naked that night. I told him I had fought a monster, but he didn't believe me,” he added. Freed chuckled slightly.

“He really told me you fought a demon,” he said. Gajeel pursed his lips in a grin.

“Well, at least now we can kick him out of the house whenever we want,” he said and walked over to him, running an arm around his waist and pulling him over him. Freed didn't object but turned his head when Gajeel tried to kiss him, so that his lips rested on his cheek. “Don't tell me you're afraid of getting a fever, little-prince,” the Dragon Slayer derisively commented.

“Yes, and here the little-prince is you, since apparently you’re the sick one,” Freed retorted, giving him a light tap on the head. Gajeel snorted.

“Tsk. Shut up”.

Freed widened his smirk.

“Weren't you the one who said only a spoiled little-prince could get a stupid flu having sex in the middle of a storm?” he teased him by repeating the exact words Gajeel had said to him four days earlier.

“Oh, fuck you,” Gajeel snapped and Freed laughed at his pout.

“You expected me to be the sick one, tell the truth,” he said. Gajeel gave him a dirty look.

“Well, you’ve a bit of a cold or am I wrong?” he retorted. Freed frowned slightly, but shrugged.

“Are you comparing a mild cold to horse fever? There’s no story” he said and got up from the sofa to take the thermometer. He tried to take his temperature but Gajeel pushed him badly away.

“I don't need that stuff, I'm fine already,” he said dryly. Freed rolled his eyes.

“Good heavens, stand still and measure your fever. I need to know how high it’s”.

“It's practically over already,” Gajeel grunted.

“God, I don't think I've ever known anyone more stubborn than you,” Freed snapped and forced the thermometer under his armpit, sitting astride him to hold him still and blocking his arm with the hand. Luckily for him Gajeel looked really tired, because he didn't object too much. He knew that if he did, they would start fighting and never finish.

Gajeel scowled at him for a while and Freed challenged him to rebel, knowing full well that in his current states he wouldn’t be able to. After a while, however, Gajeel grinned.

“Well, this position isn’t bad,” he said amused.

“I won't do anything with you sick,” Freed clarified coldly.

“Asshole”.

“Stubborn”.

The thermometer rang and Freed pulled it back and observed that the temperature was quite high. More than 38 and a half degrees, and that idiot was still pretending to be fine. He shook his head in resignation and pulled himself off the couch.

“To bed,” he ordered.

“The fuck, I told you I don't need to sleep,” Gajeel grunted. “And you certainly didn't come here to sleep.”

“I already told you I came here to take care of you. Now shut your mouth and go to bed,” Freed snapped in exasperation. Gajeel grunted but got up a bit shaky and Freed was immediately beside him. Luckily, he didn't refuse his help and luckily in a few seconds he took him to his room. Gajeel stretched out on the bed and snorted, then clapped his hand on the mattress.

Freed took a few seconds to realize it was a way to ask him to lie down next to him, and he obliged. He lay down beside him and pulled the blankets up to cover them both.

“Do you want another blanket?” he asked noticing that Gajeel occasionally had some thrills.

“I want you to stop being so annoying,” was the grumpy reply.

“Why do you have to complicate things like this,” Freed muttered. If he was an asshole, Gajeel was offended, if he was nice, he was offended just the same. He loved his boyfriend, but sometimes he was really unbearable. Gajeel didn't answer and Freed assumed he had fallen asleep. At least he was resting now, it was for the best.

Freed smiled slightly as he listened to his heavy breathing and ran a hand through his hair. There were few sweet moments between them, Gajeel was certainly not a man who loved fuss. And Freed didn't make things easier. They spent their time mainly making fun of themselves, practicing or otherwise always had something to do. But he found himself loving those few moments of peace, before falling asleep with him or after sex. Unless the sex was the wild one they'd had a few days earlier in the middle of a storm.

He smiled in amusement at the memory as he gently ran his hand across Gajeel's arm. He had to admit that ever since he started dating Gajeel, he had really started doing things he never dreamed of doing. He had once let Gajeel drag him to a music festival and, even though it wasn't his kind of man, he’d had a lot of fun.

“No one has ever taken care of me,” Gajeel said suddenly, interrupting his thoughts. Freed frowned a little, surprised both by the fact that the boy wasn’t sleeping, and by that sudden statement.

“What do you mean?” he asked in a low voice.

“I was raised by a dragon. Not just any dragon, Metallicana. And when he left, I spent my whole life alone. I'm not used to… someone like you. I'm an independent man,” he explained briefly.

Freed remained silent, not quite sure what to say. He understood what Gajeel meant, even Freed had experienced loneliness for a period of his life. While he had met Evergreen, Bickslow and Laxus, however, Gajeel was left alone until he entered Fairy Tail.

He continued to run his fingers through Gajeel's hair in a calming gesture.

“The fact that I take care of you doesn't mean that you aren’t independent or that you’re weak. You’re a strong, proud and skilled man and I know it. That's why I like you. Moments of weakness happen to everyone and precisely because I love you, I want to take care of you when they happen” he said calmly, while a blush filled his face. Gajeel smiled slightly at admission. “And that doesn't make you a little-prince, even if you fell ill in my place,” Freed added in a slightly amused tone, popping him a kiss on the lips.

“Love you too, even if you're an asshole,” Gajeel murmured. Freed just smiled without saying anything, completely in love with the man in front of him and that strangely sweet situation between them. He liked knowing that they could share moments like that too, and that Gajeel felt comfortable enough to talk to him about things he had never told anyone.

“You got a fever too, right?” Gajeel grumbled after a while and Freed frowned slightly.

“Are you delirious?” he asked.

“No” Gajeel smiled without opening his eyes. “But you came here after four days. Knowing your bullshit, you would’ve been here after two hours not seeing me in the guild, just to fool me for as long as possible,” he explained. Freed laughed softly.

“What if it were?” he asked him.

“You remain the little-prince,” Gajeel replied tightening his grip on him. Freed would have liked to argue that at least he was healed after three days, not like Gajeel who was still in bed. Eventually, however, he decided to let it go and curled up against his chest.

“As you like” he murmured and closed his eyes falling asleep next to him shortly after.

[konaboyshawaiioceantours]

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