#At one point I enjoyed it lol Not denying that. But once I really dug into lore and how magic worked...

[exhausted-archivist]

I Think Solas Was Never Supposed to Succeed in Tearing Down the Veil

This has been sitting in my drafts for like.... weeks. And I'm kinda just chucking it out there because I want to talk about it but I also don't think there will ever be a time where this can be discussed without strong reactions. So, I'm just gonna treat this with half seriousness and be kinda general? I'm down to discuss but I'm not here to deal with the pro/con Veilguard sentiments. I just wanna talk about the game in a mostly analytical way.

I think Solas poses a lot of cool narrative restrictions, contradictions, and irritations. He is a wonderful antagonist – easy to be against what he's doing but also you can, at points, see where he's coming from. Can still think he's smart/dumb/irrational/ect, but still see the logic. Whether its flawed or not.

That said. The endgame for Dragon Age was likely never going to maintain the Veil coming down. Now let me explain before you boo me for being right. For legal reasons this is a joke.

I've seen people talking about how it would be nice to see what Thedas would have looked like with the veil down and lamenting how a lot of things happened off-screen even though in any scenario the destruction of Thedas would have still largely been off screen.

But I always just think about how the narrative was pretty heavy handed in how it has always been characterized as a bad thing, a sort of fail state at best. Wiping out all life on the continent at worse.

Which leads me to the conclusion:

Solas was likely never supposed to succeed in tearing down the veil and it was never depicted as a good thing if he succeeded.

Now I'm going to stick some stuff under the cut, because spoilers for datv, but we get at least a sliver of what they were looking at in terms of scope prior to the switch to multiplayer, and even what they were thinking of on the heels of Trespasser before datv became Joplin.

To clarify the general timeline for datv you have: Prior to official project start (roughly 2014-2015) -> Joplin (2015-2017) -> Morrison (2017-2021) -> Morrison Single-player (Veilguard) (2021-2024)

I also, and I cannot stress this enough, concept art is not cut content. None of what is shown should be considered cut content. They were exploring possibilities and most of these came in very early in pre-production. They were not carried past pre-production for many reasons we don't know and might not ever fully understand.

Anyways, I'mma start with something I think is missed by a lot of people:

Most (if not all) of Thedas as we know it wouldn't be there. Solas stressed that the tearing down of the veil would kill a lot - if not all people - in Thedas. There is no guarantee for elves or dwarves, and certainly not humans and Qunari/Vashoth. This is stressed heavily in Tevinter Nights when Charter talks to him. (Emphasis by me)

She shook her head helplessly. “Because you told the Inquisitor that you were going to destroy this world,” she said. “Did you expect us not to try to stop you?” He sighed. “It was a moment of weakness. I told myself that it was because you all deserved to know, to live a few years in peace before my ritual was complete. Before this world ended.” “Then perhaps we are not the only ones you lied to,” Charter said. “You do not have to do this.” His look pinned her. “I have no choice. What I am doing will save this world, and those like you—the elves who still remain—may even find it better, when it is done.” Charter considered lying, but then she thought of Tessa, with her quick smile and strong hands. “There are those I care for who would not.”

For reference of those who haven't read the comics, Tessa is Charter's human partner.

He stresses this both when he mentions it in Trespasser. He knows his path to do so ends in death, he wanted the world to be at some degree of peace before most of it died - its why he helps reveal the Dragon's Breath plot.

Okay, so what about datv? They could have changed their mind, a lot of stuff changed between what we were given in Trespasser (2015) and Tevinter Nights (2020).

Glad you asked!

So, what we know from the artbook is that in this post-Tresspasser/pre-Joplin era concept art, they explored the veil coming down in a different way than what we got final game. Matt Rhodes also posted the piece with the artbook caption that this was a pitch that involved Solas summoning a titan beneath Minrathous to tear down the veil. [Source]

An artist's pitch for a potential end-game. Solas has raised the titan upon which the city of Minrathous had been built, in order to use its strength to tear open the veil.

So not only did they explore Solas continuing to use titans for his purposes. Repeating a sin he has regrets for – which would have been such an interesting thing to talk about with Harding or even to throw back on how Solas still throws away his morals and values because he's barreling down the "ends justify the means" highway.

But this also says a lot about how much he does not care to about the consequences on the modern people. I also think it negates what growth he could possibly has and would be in conflict with the established fact that he does try to mitigate the damage of his ritual.

Because Titans are massive. So much so that Valta talks about it in her notes after joining with the Titan. So massive that a Warden on her calling gets lost in one. Summoning one to the surface would be cataclysmic at best. These beings are larger than mountains, its even suggested some are as large as entire mountain ranges both prior to and in datv. Not to mention Titans prior to datv are at least 14 miles below sea level (deep as the Mariana's trench) according to the da ttrpg and the map of the Descent dlc.

Summoning something that large from so deep, on a coastal area would cause so much wide spread damage... It is irredeemable. Its unjustifiable. Which would make any positive ending for Solas feel undeserved and forced upon you. So I get why this wouldn't have pushed forward. Its too loaded and irredeemable that even if someone wanted to pursue saving him from himself – you can't do that after something like this.

I still think its a cool concept that also really throws Solas' whole "I'm not a god" and "the Evanuris aren't gods" thing into the spotlight. Because the series has repeatedly asked us to consider what we consider to be a god, and if we're being told this isn't an act of a god... what in Thedas is? But that's a whole other post.

Joplin Era Art

Concept art shows they were already exploring a world state where at the end of the game, Solas mends the veil. It is not labeled as a fail state. [Source: The Art of Dragon Age The Veilguard]

Tranquilizing himself. Solas recloses the veil around himself and the blight.

This next one is considered a fail state.

This sequence was an early fail state. Solas succeeds in his ritual, life as Thedas knows it has come to an end, and the ancient elves return.

This sequence of boards shows Solas meditating and triggering an explosion (the iconic one to Dragon Age that has appeared in every game, and we see in Trespasser. The beam and then shockwave.) You see people standing around an animal and then when the shock wave they are on the ground dead. Then it cuts to a colour row of frames where a halla is grazing and the spirit bodies of the ancient elves appear on the horizon.

Solas succeeding in tearing down the veil was always a bad end. People were to die in mass quantities. Everyone would be gone. South falling to the blight? Small potatoes, as no one from the previous games exists anymore.

Another exploration of a world state successfully stopping Solas shows him making Ghilan'nain and then himself tranquil as he seals the Veil around himself and the blight.

Solas tranquilizes Ghilan'nain (above) and, as his last act, performs the same procedure on himself.

We see him tranquilizing an early concept form of Ghil, and in the second image we see the same sealing imagery of the veil as the second piece of concept art that had him closing the veil.

Defeated, Solas enters the Black City alone.

Even early on in Joplin, Solas was going to return to the Black City. Solavellan or not, his defeat seemed to always remove him from the waking world. Which is interesting to consider.

After that, the artbook – and any other concept art that has been shared – doesn't show any indication that the broad strokes of what was laid out in Joplin changed with Morrison. Neither the multiplayer nor reverting back to single player.

Solas doesn't succeed to bring down the veil and end game Solas always ends up beyond the veil.

I do wonder if the how changed at some point, but I find it interesting that we have no public indication that they carried the idea of Solas succeeding in any shape or form through production. Or that he doesn't mend the veil in end game.

Which lines up with what was telegraphed from Inquisition forward.

To me, Solas never felt like he was supposed to succeed because the narrative made it very overt that what he was doing was devastating. It felt that there was no coming back from it. Thedas would be inherently so different – and you'd have to commit to either it coming down in all world states or none at all because it would be such a divergent thing.

I think the veil coming down is a fascinating concept and definitely one to end a series so you have to start somewhere else – either so far in the future or in the past.

[slimyalienfreak]

Mr Virtual + Luigi’s Day Out Mario Smut HC’s

This was a request by @thefoxcorner over on discord and once given this request I couldn’t deny it lol. Safe to say I went a bit wild with the request. Hope you like it. ~Blaze/Dawn

Pronouns: Not Mentioned (Gender Can Differ Depending On Point)

Warning: ⚠️NSFW/Smut Content Ahead: If You Are A Minor Or Uncomfortable With This Stuff Don’t Interact/Read This.⚠️

Requested: Yes/No

Characters: Mr Virtual + Luigi’s Day Out Mario

Proofread: ❌

Credits: Art by JanitorCrust (For Mr Virtual) on Newgrounds and hotdiggedydemon (For Luigi’s Day Out Mario) + Banner by Quack_Quack_ (Edited By Me) on Pinterest

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Mr Virtual:

- Just a warning if you're planning on having any sexual relationship with Mr Virtual (or any sort of relationship to be honest) just mentally and physically prepare yourself. He’s already crazy normally and he’s pretty much crazier in sexual situations. He’s a freaky fucker in more ways than one and he’s even more freakier in sexual situations. He’s pretty much open for anything and is down for whatever you want him to do. It doesn't matter how crazy it may sound if either you or him are interested in it you two are doing it no questions asked.

- I feel like he’s definitely more of a dominant when it comes to sexual experience. Though I’d like to think he can have some moments when he isn’t and lets you be more dominant but I feel like it would be on his own accord. He would still direct it in some sort of way but wouldn’t necessarily mind being in either position but just finds himself being the one in charge most of the time.

- He’s definitely a big boy down there. Since he’s canonically 13ft5 while also considering his build he’s definitely on the larger side when it comes to his dick size though isn’t that much on the thicker side but still recognisable. He really likes seeing you trying to take it. He’s fully aware that his dick is way above the average size and likes to challenge you to see how far you can take it. Whether that being through a blowjob or simply how far he can get his dick inside of you.

- I don’t think he’d personally be into masturbating unless he had to. This is mostly because he much prefers exploring his sexual desires with you. He feels that it doesn’t give him the same feeling when he’s pleasuring himself with his hand or whatever he has compared to you being on his dick.

- He’s definitely a sadomasochist. He enjoys the feeling of giving and receiving pain that’s just how he is. He doesn’t really have a preference if you do it to him or if he does it to you he’s fine with either. In my relationship HC’s with him I mentioned that he’d like it if you dug your nails into his skin and in this situation he would really like it. You could scratch him, dig your nails, have a tight grip on him or anyway you can give him pain and he would absolutely love it.

- Also I like to think he would enjoy it when his hair is being pulled. For when he wants to be the one experiencing pain to get him pretty much close to cumming is just pulling on his long ass hair. It gives him this little jolt throughout his body making him let out a chuckle before a drawn out moan is replacing it while calling you a ‘little tease’ but he doesn’t stop you, he probably encourages you to do it again knowing him.

- Adding on from the two previous points he’s probably into dacryphilia. He gets really turned on seeing you cry seeing the tears roll down your cheeks as you were made to do things like endure the pain he inflicts upon you. He likes to have you up close to him as he wipes your tears away while praising you for powering through the pain. I don’t know why but I can imagine him maybe licking them away but it really depends on his mood. I bet he would like the taste of saltiness of the tears.

- He’s probably into some sort of restriction of any kind on both you and him. Although I do think he prefers doing it to you he doesn’t necessarily mind making himself wait to finally experience ecstasy as he’s tied down. He honestly really likes the way his body just goes numb before the pleasure overtakes it. He likes it even more when you go through it though.

- Considering he likes to get into people’s heads he probably knows what their brain thinks. That be said he definitely uses the things he finds in your head against you. He would dive deep in there, find out what turns you on and use it. Even the ones you haven’t even discovered you’d be into yet. You’d be surprised at how much he knows. You can’t really hide anything from him he will eventually find out so you might as well just let him. Ranging from the more tamed ones to straight up the kinkiest shit you're into he’s going to explore it to its full potential.

- He’s got some lanky ass fingers and he definitely likes to use them to please you. He likes dragging them across your body all the way down then just inserting them inside of you. They are also kind of long so they definitely reach the right spot to make you a quivering mess. He really likes that he can bring you to that point from just his fingers alone.

- He’s definitely a massive fucking tease. This is going to make him sound incredibly sadistic but he likes seeing you squirm. He thinks it’s really hot when you do. Honestly sometimes he has to restrain himself when he sees you like this because it gets him turned on so much it’s that much. He ain’t stopping till both you and him have had enough and let’s just say he can definitely last a while.

LDO Mario:

- I like to think Luigi’s Day Out Mario is way more on the tamer side compared to Mr Virtual. Preferring to sticking to stuff he likes and what you like although occasionally when he’s in the mood he’d try out new stuff. But sometimes he’s a bit lazy when it comes to learning new things. He sticks to things that he knows will make you cum while occasionally spicing it up here and there.

- To be honest I’m just going to come here and say that he gives off switch vibes. Don’t question me. When he’s a top he’s extremely cocky. He likes seeing you beneath him panting as his cock slips in and out of you. Saying things like “You like it huh? You like it when I fuck you like this?” Shit like that just riles you up even more. For when he’s a bottom he gives off extremely bratty vibes but that could just be me being delusional. Regardless he gets extremely embarrassed when you top him telling you to shut up but ultimately giving in because it feels really good but you won’t hear him admit it.

- For his cock size since he’s just an emo version of Mario his size is whatever Mario’s is. As for that he’s at least at average length definitely ain’t small but isn’t considered above average either. But he makes up for that by being more on the thicker side. He’s definitely a fan of blowjobs and handjobs. He just really likes seeing your mouth and hand around his cock as you please him.

- I feel like he would enjoy doing it in semi-public areas. Though he prefers doing it either at his or your home (mostly yours knowing the possible chance of being caught by his mother) when he’s horny and he knows it would be a while till the both of you are alone he’s more than willing to risk it. He would take you to a secluded area or an abandoned area and the two of you would just start going at it. Trying your best to keep quiet to not get caught by people.

- I think prior to doing it with you mostly masturbates when he has the spare time. Honestly he does it so often pleasuring himself to pictures of you imagining how you would react to his dick being inside of you. His mind is pretty much filled with extremely dirty scenarios of both you and him. But since he officially did it with you he’s done this less and less since he has you now.

- Adding on from the previous, sometimes with your permission he likes to record yours and his sexual events as a little memory on his phone. Having his own albums of things like you sucking him or him fucking you from behind. He likes to use these as little helpers for when he needs to please himself and you're not around. It gets him off just as much as actually experiencing it.

- He has a few toys that he keeps hidden away for both you and him. He likes to bring them out and use them on you or let you use them on him. Sometimes if he using vibrators he usually likes to use them on you as he’s fucking you using it as double stimulation. Sometimes using it on his own cock as you use your hand to please him to make the double stimulation equal on both you and him.

- Surprisingly he’s into pegging regardless if you don’t have a dick or not. Just like with him being the bottom there’s absolutely no way in hell he’s admitting to it. But you can see the way he reacts when you do and you can definitely tell when he’s lying about liking it. Despite him claiming he ‘doesn’t like it’ he still hasn’t told you to stop.

- He definitely likes to mark you and when you mark him. He really likes giving you hickeys in extremely obvious areas of your body the parts that will be hard to cover. The same goes for him, sometimes he doesn’t even try to hide them using it as a way to tell people that the two of you had sex. He also likes it when you scratch his back, slowly dragging your nails down them making look like he wrestled a tiger. Though he does kind of regret it when it gives him some sort of stinging sensation afterwards but he enjoys it in the moment.

- He’s also into edging. Both on you and him though it mostly only happens when you're topping him. For you he likes seeing you beg for him to let you cum to which he does tease you for your reactions. Using his hand/fingers to bring you towards the edge only to deny you turns him on a lot. Though when the tables are turned he is very hypocritical. He does try to convince himself he’ll pull through it till you give up but he gives up so goddamn quickly sometimes quicker than when he does it to you. He’s begging for you to let him cum, sometimes cursing you out before stopping when you tell him he won’t get to cum if he acts like that before returning to begging.

- He’s pretty much average when it comes to things like his sex drive and how many rounds he can last. Unlike Mr Virtual Luigi’s Day Out Mario is human and pretty much lasts however long humans can last. Though it does depend on the day. He can at least last around 4-5 rounds, sometimes more if he’s extremely horny but only on rare occasions.

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[oingo233]

You Are Beautiful (1)

Summary: Sirius Black was entranced since the moment he saw you. He had to have you but you are convinced his feelings are fleeting, and will only hurt you. People inside and outside of your relationship meddle in the makings of something that could be beautiful... or disastrous. Will love and confidence win? Or will doubt and uncertainty tear you both down?

Young Sirius Black x Pus SizedFemReader

Warning: one inappropriate joke lol, fluff I suppose and nothing else really. All the real stuff comes later :0

Authors note: I mostly write my xreader fics as neutral but as this is a request, I wrote this as fem. But if anyone would like a male version or neutral version let me know and I will copy this but obviously change readers gender (and it's no burden to me I'd love to make more readers feel included and represented). Also reader is plus sized and she is confident and strong throughout the fic -because plus sized characters aren't represented like that in film/books alot (but if looking for amazing and empowering plus sized female characters Nina Zenik from Six of Crows owns my entire heart and changed how I saw myself personally and I would recommend that book for anyone really)- but as any human she has her insecurities because beauty standards are unattainable and have a way excluding so many people and making us feel less than beautiful. As a plus sized/overweight person myself, I understand how we have to fight to feel beautiful and fight this internalized bias we have when we look in the mirror. But WE ARE BEAUTIFUL. WE ARE WORTHY OF MAGAZINGE COVERS AND COMPLIMENTS AND ABOVE ALL SELF LOVE!! The self insert character in this has fought for her confidence, but it will shake and stumble throughout the series and Sirius and friends are there for her to help her realize for herself how beautiful she truly is, once again. So I hope I didn't stray too far from the request :) Enjoy....

Word Count: 1.8

Authors Note: About halfway through I decided to make it a series oops-

****Blabbering Idiot****

Sirius Black is a man of many, many words. In fact, I'm sure if he was writing this he could quickly turn it into one of the most entertaining novels ever written. He'd describe the laughter of his friends for a whole page. Tell a hilarious joke on the next. Then he'd describe the wind blowing through the open halls and courtyard and the spring sun. He could write about a great many things in great detail. (But he wouldn't because he doesn't quite enjoy writing as much as he does anything else, but that's above the point.)

As I said, Sirius Black is a man of many words. So it was such a curious thing when he first saw you. It was an astounding thing really, because for the first time he found something that rendered him completely speechless.

The sun was peeking through the open corridor and pooled onto you, caressing your skin and hair in an ethereal glow. Highlighting curves that brought both sinful and sweet thoughts running through him. It was as if the universe was telling him, look at what we've created, look at this beautiful creature. But he could hardly believe that this world could create something so lovely and kind. You threw your head back in laughter at something your friend said and suddenly the world is back to normal and all he can hear is your laughter and the sound of his friends curiosity at what could have possibly kept him from the conversation about muggle rock compared to Wizard bands. In fact, James was so passionate about it half the hall turned to listen to his rendition of The Chain by Fleetwood Mac.

But he didn't care, he took a feeble step towards you and suddenly felt so nervous his hands began to sweat. He stuttered and coughed up his words just for a simple "hello" in your direction only for the wind blowing through the halls to carry it away. And his friends laughed at him as he watched you walk too far from where he wanted you. Because, oh did he want you.

Sirus POV:

"I'm telling you, I won't be able to sleep tonight unless I know who she is," Sirius says for not the first time that evening. James started to laugh.

"Why? Because you'll be too busy thinking of her?" James said, laughing as he made a very suggestive hand motion. Peter cackled and Remus rolled his eyes, trying to find the cleaner side of his humor but instead he couldn't help but snort. Sirius pushed James's shoulder.

"Yeah, I'm sure Lily would love to know how familiar with that feeling you are," Sirius says and James stopped laughing immediately, his eyes narrowed.

"Please, you wouldn't dare. And I will deny all accusations, you'll be made out to be a liar. Then the mystery girl will never love you. Is that what you want, Pads?" James joked with a single arch of his brow. Sirius just rolled his eyes. He was only half paying attention, he has been scouring the hallways since he first saw that girl. He wanted to speak to her again, or maybe just stare for a bit. If things went well, he'd be able to do both those things on a date. But he hasn't seen her since that morning and his heart felt oddly shallow. He wanted those butterflies he had when looking at her to come back and overwhelm him again.

"What'll it matter if I don't even know who she is? Or- or if I can't talk to her? No one falls in love with a blabbering idiot," Sirius says. Remus shrugs.

"Lily fell in love with James," he says, Peter laughed again.

"Yeah, regardless of what he does at night," Peter added and now both James and Sirius were rolling their eyes. James and Lily just recently stopped denying their feelings for one another and gave into the sexual tension and mutual pining. Their relationship was still fairly new but they act as if they've been together for years. Sirius supposed that in a way, they have been.

Sirius would watch them giggling, hand and hand in the hall. He'd see them cuddling in the common room, or coming back after dates with rosy cheeks and beaming smiles. Sirius would never admit it out loud, but his heart cried out when he saw them like that. He rarely ever felt lonely. He could have any girl or boy he wanted if he really tried, but for what? One fun night? Only for one more morning where he wakes up alone? He wanted more than that whenever he saw Lily and James, their happiness was palpable. Their love was suffocating.

Sirius always thought he'd find the one after Hogwarts, if at all. But when he saw her... well that changed everything. In a flash he saw himself with her, their hands intertwined and her head thrown back in laughter. Rosy cheeks and bruised lips. Warm beds and making love... being in love. He nearly felt silly after and yet, he knew that even if he did sleep tonight, it would be her he'd dream of.

"Ello' guys!" Lily said, bouncing up to James who kissed her cheek. They walked with their arms looped and Sirius glared at the easy sign of affection. He thought of his parents, how they would be stiff with one another except for in quiet moments, when he'd pass through a hall and glance into their room. He'd spot a quick kiss on the cheek, and soft squeeze of the hand. It were those odd moments for him, that struck him so strongly with a sharp bitterness. They don't deserve softness and love, he'd think, how can such cruel creatures even feel such things? But even then, he'd walk away seeing them as still awful creatures born from the depths of hell, but more human.

"That's her," Sirius whispered so quietly Remus almost didn't hear it. In fact, Sirius didn’t think Remus heard it at all, but it was rather his look of longing towards the Great Hall entrance that gave him away. Because standing right there, was you.

Your hair was a little wind blown, messy around your face, bits of iit shaped your round cheeks and soft eyes. Sirius eyed you up and down and cursed clothes and cursed shyness and cursed his own head for thinking he could even talk to you. But most of all, he cursed a group of boys who walked past you.

Sirius was a confident boy, he knew how to spot someone who held their head up just as high as he did, and you were very much one of those people. You were giggling as you stole a biscuit from a friend and popped it into your mouth, you covered your mouth as you laughed when they complained with a little smile of their own.

"It's just so yummy, and I haven't eaten since breakfast." He heard you say, your friend just shook his head and handed you a plate as you sat down next to him. But right before you could get comfortable a sneering group of boys stole a piece of food from your hand and said something rather rude.

Sirius didn't even realize he had been walking towards you, this girl he has never even spoken too, yet thought of so endearingly, until he was standing right before the boys and had the pack leaders wrist firmly in his grip.

"Drop it boy, c'mon, drop it," he teased. It was humiliating for the boy and he knew it by the laughing and sneering others directed towards the group of boys, but Sirius did not care. The boy dropped the biscuit and looked as if his tail was tucked into his legs. "Good boy," he said, ruffling his hair until it was a knotted mess, the boy winced at just how hard Sirius dug his knuckles into his scalp, Sirius relented with a satisfied smirk.

Sirius’s voice took on a much harsher tone, "Now scram." The boys were out of their seats and in new ones within seconds.

Sirius felt his mood shift completely once they left, because now all eyes were on him, yours included. He looked up at you rather shyly, his hair falling in strands over his forehead. He tucked it behind his ear and found some confidence in the way your eyes followed the movement and how you blushed. He gave you his best smile, hoping his charm wasn't as weak as his legs felt at that moment.

"Hello, I'm Sirius... Sirius Black." Then, like an idiot he put his hand out for you to shake, what charmer just shakes the ladies hand? He stopped belittling himself the moment you softly placed your hand in his.

"It's nice to meet you, Sirius, and thanks for helping me. I know how to handle those filthy 'dogs'" you said, smiling as you remembered the way he spoke to them, he chuckled. "But I suppose it's nice not always having to," you finished with a bright smile on your face. He felt his own cheeks heat up and he nodded but could not think of anything better to say.

"Name," he said, you raised your brows. He cleared his throat, "your name?"

"Oh, how rude of me," you said and then you laughed, that same laugh that caught his attention and has yet to let go. "I'm (y/n) (y/l/n)."

"Nice to meet you," he said, it was as if he couldn't feel the appalled stares of your friends because all he could see was the blush on your cheeks and your head thrown back in laughter. He swallowed thickly before making his way back to his friends. They all wore raised brows and smirks, and he knew they were about to bite into him.

"Treating them like dogs, really? A bit ironic don't you think," Lily said, James shrugged

"That's why it was so good," he said, high fiving Sirius.

"But it admittedly went downhill from there," Peter was sure to add, just like Sirius knew one of them would. Sirius just laughed, too elated to finally know who you were.

"Don't start," he said, but it was too late.

All in union they sputtered out the lame word that will plague Sirius' memory of that moment forever, "Name?"

They cackled at him and ruffled his hair all the way to their seats, but Sirius knew they were pleased for him. And Sirius didn't mind, he could feel the pretty eyes of a pretty girl following him across the room. If only someone told him how important she would become to him, maybe he would have looked back at her and never looked away.

Taglist <3

@enchantedblackrose

[dreamii-yume]

When you said しし (shishi) I thought about a piss kink... Mainly because I used to say 'shishi' instead of pee when I was younger

LOL I FORGOT TO ADD THE THIRD SHI—

ALSO— WHY does my brain work better ideas once there’s that one questionable kink in an ask (● ˃̶��̀ロ˂̶͈́)੭ꠥ⁾⁾I don’t even know if this was a crumb idea or— aaaaa

Ruggie is just that skillful guy who knows a lot about what he’s doing, doesn’t matter what it is, he’ll learn and master it soon enough.

The act of distraction by talking about topics that he knew you would be interested in, that’s also a piece of cake. His voice and seemingly genuine interest in the conversation had you so lost that you didn’t even notice how constantly he kept pouring drinks in your cup. Just as you would finish a glass, he’d rile the conversation towards himself and muses as he saw your eyes sparkled, before you know it, there’s a new batch of drink in your cup once again. He had to stop himself from chuckling out loud every time you would cluelessly down one glass, excited of how this outcome can do for you. Soon enough though, you started reacting as the liquid you consume began building up inside you and visibly froze in your spot.

Ruggie glanced down to see you fidgeting with your thighs squishing against each other, that blush on your face made you look hot and cute at the same time. You were trying to find an opportunity to excuse yourself in the midst of Ruggie’s words, not wanting to seem rude to cut him off mid-sentence. Being the little shit that he is, he purposely prolonged his point of the conversation, observing how you were more focus on keeping your bladder in control rather than actually listening to him now. When he finally finished talking, you hastily stood up from your seat the moment he breaths in, giving him a shaky smile and excusing yourself to the toilet. It was so funny how you didn’t even wait for his answer and just dashed away, Ruggie wonders if you even know where the bathroom is here in Savanaclaw but he guessed that was the least of your worries at that point.

Of course, like the little lost bunny that you are, frantically searched without a plan with Ruggie just watching you from behind. You look like you’re on the verge of tears, closing your eyes from time to time as a way to control your shaking legs. He noticed how you purposely avoided asking for guidance, probably because you didn’t have enough willpower to stomach in the nervousness and your impatient bladder at the same time, but surprisingly, you went and tap a Savanaclaw dorm member’s shoulder for instructions. Now, this made Ruggie tensed up since being a Savanaclaw dorm member himself, he knew their responses would either be as aggressive as he’d imagine, or reasonably rational. Luckily, with your pitiful appearance alone, the Savanaclaw dorm member just instead back down and pointed to the designated bathroom you were looking for.

This made Ruggie sigh, relieved yet disappointed at the same time since his little enjoyment of watching you struggle like a new-born fawn is reaching its end. However, as he trails after your dashing figure, one little fun yet cruel idea came to mind and he isn’t quite sure whether to be disgusted with himself or to praise himself for it. But if he was going to commit in such morbid kind of enjoyment then might as well just partake in it to the fullest, right?

Reaching the toilets filled with different stalls, you found yourself sighing a breath of relief since no one seemed to be around, too distracted by the party going on outside. You walked over to one stall and open it, revealing a perfectly clean toilet and you almost saw it as your bright savior at that moment. However, once you were actually ready to step in inside, a hand snaked its way around your shoulder, startling half of your soul out of you. Your heart began beating so fast once again that you thought your bladder had given out from that shock.

“Hey there, (Y/N)~” His playful voice rang out and you immediately recognized him, the arm began wrapping itself around your neck this time, preventing you from moving away any further. “Fancy seeing you here~”

“R-Ruggie-senpai…” You whimpered out, tears on the side of your eyes as the sight of the toilet in front of you had only urged the temptation of your bladder to just burst. “P-Please let go, I-I need to-“

“Mm-hm! I know, why else would you be here then?” He said in a mocking way, yet is making no actual efforts to comply with what you requested. Instead, you squeaked as his other hand moved up your thigh, brushing his fingertips so gently to create goosebumps along the way. “I just…kinda want to help you out, y’know?”

“Eh!?” You widened your eyes, gasping as his hand reached your clothed flower and started rubbing against it.

“…Oh, you’re already a little wet down here…” Ruggie said, blinking as he rubbed circles around the wet patch of your underwear before smirking right back at you. ”I wonder if you just couldn’t hold yourself longer? You’re such a baby, aren’t you~?”

“N-No, I- Aah…!” You tried protesting and struggling out of his hold, yet he already has your head in an inescapable arm lock and resisting could more or less choke you. He slipped his hand inside, his cold hands making you squeak from a single touch and tried to close your thighs to deny access. “R-Ruggie-senpai…!”

You whined, but Ruggie only hummed in fascination as his fingers rubbed up and down your slit, gathering your slick juices. You tried struggling forward, but that only got you in a more awkward bending position, which oddly worked on his favor. You gasped a shaky breath as his fingers began experimenting on your folds, occasionally pulling on your labia apart and stimulating your insides. The pressure inside you increases and you could only widen your eyes at it, especially when one of his fingers had slipped inside of you as a test. “You’re soaking up, and reallyclenching down on my finger, (Y/N)…Can’t take it anymore?”

You began to sob, mostly out of embarrassment as your nails dug on his arm around your neck, airy moans unconsciously coming out of your mouth as he began to pump in and out of you. You tried your hardest not to burst at that moment, too ashamed to do it in a position and place like this when there was a ready-to-use toilet in front of you, but it was getting more and more difficult at every second. But try as you may though, you couldn’t really control some small streaks of urine to come out of you, especially as he added another finger in. With thrusts that was getting faster and deeper, teasing your bladder out of its constricted binds to just let every dirty liquid you have to just flow in a messy impact. You heard Ruggie chuckling from behind your ears, likely really enjoying his little play and how it was affecting you.

Then, as the cold surface of his thumb came in contact with your sensitive clit, that’s when the last bit of your persistence suddenly crumbles away. Your voice cracked at how sudden the action was and your walls close in on his fingers the tightest it ever had. “Aah!” You exclaimed as a little rub on your nub was all it took for you to break down just like that.

In the midst of his brutal finger-fucking, a surge of liquid came bursting out of you, the relief of your bladder finally being released from the insane pressure had your eyes rolling to the back of your head. Streaks of yellowish liquid trailed down your thighs and stained your panties in an instant, squirting out messily on the floor as your legs shook. “Ah, there it goes!” Ruggie exclaimed but still lodged his fingers deep inside of you, as if curious to see how it flows out like this. It took a good five seconds for you to calm down on your high, there was so many emotions that came out of you; The relief, the pleasure, and soon, the humiliation, but most notably, the sudden exhaustion.

“Alright~ That’s a job well-done, (Y/N)~” Ruggie praised as he adjusted his hold on you as your legs were practically dying at this point. He pulled his fingers out that made you flinch and groan at the same time, and the next thing you knew, you were being hoisted up to the toilet. Sitting there listlessly, you finally saw your Hyena senior grinning smugly at you from ear to ear as if feigning innocence with that signature laugh of his. He looked down at your soaked panties and breath out. “Well, I can’t just leave you here like this, so be a good girl and wait for me inside this stall, okay?”

You groaned in response, not knowing what to actually say or even having enough energy to say anything at all. However, you squeaked as you noticed Ruggie was slowly slipping your ruined underwear off your legs and panicked. “You probably don’t need this anymore, right? I’ll bring you something else to wear so, just sit here and be pretty little thing that you are like always.” He said as he stood up, casually waving your panties around, causing more heat to spread in your face.

Of course, Ruggie noticed such thing and just grinned at your reaction, it’s really fun to mess with you like this. He stepped out of the stall and as he was about to close the door, he stopped and gave you one last look. “Oh, by the way-“ He called out, showing your piss-stained panties tangled on his fingers once again before chuckling. “This counts as a gift, right? Thanks, (Y/N)~”

Then, he finally closes the door, leaving you to contemplate on what the hell just happened.

Now I just need Jack to complete the “Helping-Darling-Pee” series and the Savanaclaw Watersports™ Event would be completed- Seriously, HOW did I end up doing this lol Yume's not even an extreme piss kink fan wtf ─=≡Σ((( つ＞＜)つ Happy fckin Birthday, Ruggie lol

[laketaj24]

Celebrations: Ivar

Author’s Note: It’s been a while since I wrote some Vikings and I watched one episode and had a freaky ass dream. Soooo here you are loves!!

Pairings: King!Ivar and Queen!Reader

Warnings: Language, SMUT, Jealous Ivar (That’s kind of normal though)

Ivar was not in the mood to talk to anyone, but then again, was he ever? He sat on his throne, nursing the sweet mead and watching the crowd cheer the return of Hvitserk. There were two things Ivar hated to share, attention, and pussy, and sometimes you wondered if it really just the attention he craved the most. “do you see this?” He pointed to his younger brother jeering among the young Viking warriors, all giving him respect and glee as he took his seat amongst them. “I sent him on that mission.”

“But you didn’t go on the mission; you cannot claim victor to a raid you did not attend. Let him have his moment.”

“And what of me, the actual King of Kattegat?”

“Perhaps the Real King of Kattegat should stop whining like a child and celebrate his brother too. The gods do not favor envy in a King, Ivar.” You looked smiled and waved at Hvitserk, and for some reason, you knew that would set him off.

“Welcome Home, Brother!” He boomed from the throne. “I am so happy to see that the gods have seen fit to bless you with a safe return home.” He smiled the same fake smile he had garnished many nights he had to entertain people that were not of his stature. “Let us feast.” He held his cup up the air and shook his head. “And be festive on this night.” The crowd cheered in agreement and not fear, but you still watched him hesitantly, for if Ivar was one thing, he was a showman. He finished the last of his drink and turned back to you as the rousing crowd began to talk again. “Come be festive with me Y/N.” His eyes were locked in the bedroom. The celebration was over for him.

You stood taking the flagon of water and bowl of fruit with you; it was easier to stay in the bed chambers once you entered on nights like this, your face tended to bleed with embarrassment if you walked out after fucking him. “Certainly.”

The noise drowned out as soon as the chamber doors were closed, and for that, you were grateful, it was hard to think straight amongst Vikings and shieldmaidens in the full heart of their party.

“Those were nice words that you shared with them. I am sure that Hvitserk appreciated them.”

“I am sure he did.” He sat on the edge of the bed and started with his nightly routine. He began with the brace leaning over and refusing to ask for help, but you enjoyed helping him. He used to resist, but there was no denying when it came to you. You were his wife, Queen, and a goddess in his eyes. You kneeled in front of him, unbuckled the first strap, and then the iron clasp to free his leg from the restraint. “I grew tired of looking at his smug face.”

“Of course, you did, Ivar.”

“Had other things on my mind.” his soft voice changed the mood instantly. He gripped a fistful of your hair and pulled your head back so that you could see his eyes.

“Like?”

“Your mouth around my cock, fucking you so good that your moans drown out those wretched celebrations. Making sure the only person truly celebrated here is me?”

“I can make that happen for you, King.” You make yourself comfortable on your needs sliding the rug under your knees, and when you lean forward. Many women complained about pleasing their men orally, but in your opinion, maybe they were doing something wrong. Unsheathing him from his pants was simple; you untied the belt, and he lifted himself from the bed. His cock was not one to spring from his pants; the weighted member rest on his thigh, growing hard with each second, and you wanted to feel him do just that in your mouth. You pick him up, and he grows more rigid and take him in your mouth. He hissed, sucking air back in once he was fully erect. He was big; you fucking loved it. You swirled your tongue around his tip, swiping at the bead of precum that dripped from it. The sweet and salty taste only made you wet for him.

You start slow, taking all of him, gracefully sliding your teeth down the ridged shaft. He tensed, gripping your hair, and then he started to thrust up into you, using your hollowed mouth. There was no time to catch your breath. Ivar, in this mode, was dedicated to the release. He ground his hips up into your mouth, and you take all of him, gagging only when there is no choice but to, and somehow, that just allows him to go deeper.

You gripped his thighs, clenching your legs together, dying for some friction to hit your clit, but you knew it was coming. The rhythm was intoxicating, your nipples pressed against your clothes pleading to be touched, and Ivar’s primal sounds only meant that he was close.

He snatched you from the ground, pulling you down on him and pushing the dress up to your hips. “Ride me,” he whispered.

The command was all that you needed to hear to take the reigns. His fingers explored you, and you were soaked for him like you already knew. He slipped his fingers into you quickly, starting with two and then three to stretch you just enough to take all of him without hesitation. He tapped his cock against you once and then pulled you down to sheath him completely. Fuck. He was deep and ready to fuck you to sleep. He leaned back onto the bed, pulling you both up the bed, and then it started, the unkempt pace that had you mewling before two strokes were complete. Your nails dug into his chest while you ground on him, sending that extra push to your already pulsating clit.

Ivar snapped against you over and over, moaning each time, and for some reason, that just made you want him even more. You bucked on him, wishing he’d stripped the heavy ass dress off so you could watch him disappear in you.

Words weren’t needed when you fucked like this, the smoldering eye contact and erratic screaming done enough to talking for you two. He fucked you until you were paralyzed with pleasure, elated in his arms with heavy breathing and a throbbing pussy.

Ivar was a selfish asshole; you didn’t know if he was fucking you to drown Hvitserk’s celebration or because he wanted to, but this you had grown accustomed. Of course, you would hear murmurs in that hall for days, but you didn’t really give a fuck if it meant that he fucked you like this, you’d gladly listen to the bullshit.

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[ukulelecal]

The Big Easy (Photographer!Ashton)

In which Ashton and Ellie explore New Orleans.

Pairing: Photographer!Ashton x OC

Warnings: language

A/N: sooo today in my snapchat memories a one year ago today thing came up and apparently, one year ago today, i was in new orleans for spring break! and i was like, damn, i miss it, and then this idea came into my head lol. since i’m struggling with writing the whole photographer!ash backstory, i figured i would just do this so you guys can meet the oc i made, ellie, and get a little taste while i figure out everything else lol (so yes there will be more photographer!ash and ellie, if you guys want!!! so lmk lol). this is my first fic with an oc so i hope you guys enjoy this 3.1k words of fluff!! love you pumpkins x 

-

“Ready to go, pretty girl?”

Ellie finished tucking her top into her skirt before turning around to face Ashton, an easy smile on her face. She always seemed to be smiling around him, always peaceful and calm. He was her rock in her crazy lifestyle as a touring musician. He kept her grounded and was always there to support her. 

“I’m ready.”

He reached for her hand with a dimpled smile, and the two headed out the door of the hotel room, making their way to the elevators.

“First stop is Cafe du Monde for breakfast, I hope?” Ellie inquired as the elevator descended, peering up at him with a cheeky grin. Ashton chuckled and nodded in response, adjusting his camera that was slung around his neck, like always.

“I promised, didn’t I?”

Ever the foodie, Ellie fell in love with beignets the first time she visited New Orleans on tour, and she always made sure there was time in the schedule to go to Cafe du Monde every time. 

It didn’t take much for Ashton to figure out how much Ellie loved the city. When they stopped there during the first tour with him as her photographer, she gushed endlessly to him about how excited she was, telling him stories of the shows she had played there in the past and all the fun things she did if she had downtime. When he was with her, there wasn’t much downtime at all, so he decided it was time for them to take a vacation to one of her favorite places. She didn’t have to worry about playing shows or doing promo; it was just Ellie and Ashton. 

The couple exited into the street from the lobby, and frankly, there was nothing spectacular about the French Quarter of New Orleans in the morning. It smelled and there was garbage that covered the ground from the copious amount of partying that happened every single night. The mess always got cleaned up and the smell faded away decently fast, but it wasn’t pleasant at the start. Ellie scrunched up her nose as they carefully stepped over everything on the ground, willing herself not to breathe too deeply.

“I hope I’m not this gross when I’m drunk,” Ashton grumbled with a disgusted look that matched Ellie’s. She giggled, gently nudging his shoulder with hers.

“I promise you aren’t,” she assured sweetly. “You’re a very affectionate drunk, actually.”

“And you’re very giggly and loud,” he teased, with loving intention, of course. Ellie rolled her eyes playfully, nudging him once again.

Soon enough, Ellie and Ashton approached the infamous Cafe du Monde, the smell fading away the further they got from the heart of the big party area. It was crowded, like it usually was, but both of them were quickly on the lookout for a table. They were lucky to spot another couple just getting up to leave, and they quickly made their way over to snag the table.

“That was pretty good, huh?” Ashton wondered aloud with a grin, taking the seat across from Ellie. 

“We definitely got lucky.”

A waitress was quick to come over and clear off the table, and Ellie’s mouth practically watered at the sight of the beignets that other customers were already enjoying.

“Alright, are you two ready to order?” The girl asked, glancing at them expectantly.

“Want to split an order?” He mumbled to Ellie, who nodded in response before he turned back to the waitress. “We’ll do one order of beignets, please, and I’ll take a large iced cafe au lait.” 

“I’ll take one, too,” Ellie piped in. The waitress bit back a smile, clearly recognizing the singer but not saying anything. 

Ashton pulled out some cash to hand to the waitress before Ellie even had the chance, and the girl quickly scurried off to put the order in. 

“We didn’t get to come here when we were here on tour,” Ellie commented, hands resting on the table as she picked at her nail polish, a habit of hers. Ashton immediately reached to grab one of her hands. He always did when she started to pick.

“Yeah, and Luke had to come here to get beignets to go for you,” he chuckled, and Ellie shrugged innocently. What would a trip to New Orleans be without beignets? Thankfully, the sound tech had been more than willing to run out and grab them for her. Needless to say, Ellie was a very happy camper when she went on stage that evening with a tummy full of sugary goodness. 

It didn’t take long for the food to come out, and the grin on Ellie’s face had Ashton practically melting. He lived to see her smile, and it always made him smile too. 

He was sure he could never love someone as much as he loved Ellie Sullivan.

“Hang on, pretty girl,” he mumbled when she quickly reached for one of the three beignets on the little plate that the waitress had placed on the table. He gestured to the camera slung around his neck, and Ellie knew exactly what he wanted to do. Being a photographer, it was natural for him to want to take pictures of everything. He found so much beauty in the world and felt it deserved to be captured. Once he met Ellie when he was hired to be the photographer for her world tour, the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, she became his muse. He took countless pictures of her, not just on stage, but in every setting. Sometimes she posed for him, some were candids, and he loved every single one of them. Some made it to the Internet for the world to see, while others were kept between the two of them, intimate and special. 

“Let me see that, ‘I finally got my beignets’ smile,” he continued, focusing the shot as she let her natural smile get even wider, tilting her head to the side, and Ashton couldn’t help but grin lovingly from behind the camera. He quietly hyped her up and gave her encouragement as he always did when he photographed, as well as suggesting poses when she seemed lost.

He took many pictures of his favorite girl, some featuring her holding up the beignets or pretending to take a big bite from them, before he finally put the camera down and they dug into the food. 

“Fuck, they’re so good,” Ellie moaned, cherishing the flavor. They didn’t have classic beignets like this in LA, so she always thoroughly enjoyed them whenever she was in New Orleans. 

“I think we’re going to have to come back here for dessert after dinner tonight, yeah?” Ashton suggested, and Ellie nodded excitedly. She was always down for some beignets, no matter what the time of day was. 

After they finished, the two left the restaurant with their iced coffees in hand, ready to explore the city further. They walked hand in hand over to Jackson Square, where many people sat out on the grass to relax in the sun. It was a beautiful day, and Ellie gladly breathed in the freshness of the air. 

“It’s so pretty here,” Ashton mumbled, and Ellie turned her head to find that he already had his camera out, snapping pictures of the gorgeous scenery. She couldn’t help but fish out her phone and take a few photos of him, in his element. He was always the one behind the camera, but she saw him the same way he saw her; beautiful, deserving to be captured. Her pictures weren’t quite as good and skillful as his, but with him in the foreground, she thought it was nearly impossible for it to really be a bad picture. 

“Can you stand by the fountain for me, baby?”

Ashton’s voice snapped her out of her trance as she looked at the pictures she took, and she didn’t bother arguing as she put her phone back in her purse and moved to the spot. Whenever she tried to argue about him taking her picture, he would always give her puppy dog eyes and a pout that she could never deny, so she always posed for him and let him do his thing. 

He took a few pictures from different angles, loving the view of the St. Louis Cathedral in the background. He stood up from where he had kneeled on the ground when he was satisfied, making his way over to Ellie with a smile.

“My pretty girl,” he mumbled softly, cupping her face in his hands. Ellie closed the already minimal distance between them without hesitation, hands finding his broad shoulders. His camera poked her chest from where it hung from his neck, but the feeling was familiar and she hardly even noticed anymore. 

“Love you, handsome,” she murmured as they pulled back, back to grinning.

“Love you, too.”

Ellie and Ashton let their hands fall before they interlaced again, walking around the square a bit more. Ashton couldn’t resist snapping a few more pictures of Ellie with the greenery before they moved on. They weren’t in a rush to see everything right away, as they had a few days until they had to head back home. 

The couple slowly meandered through the streets of the French Quarter, throwing out their empty iced coffee cups along the way. There was always something to see there, something to be looking at, and they loved the constant engagement. 

They eventually passed a shop that sold masquerade masks, and Ashton cocked his head towards the door.

“Want to look in there?”

“Sure,” Ellie agreed simply, and Ashton held the door for her and let her step inside.

The walls were lined with all sorts of masks. The colors and designs varied greatly, as well as different levels of extravagance. There was so much to look at, it was nearly impossible to focus on just one thing. 

“It looks like Mardi Gras threw up in here,” Ellie giggled, slowly starting to browse the masks with Ashton by her side.

“I think that’s the point, baby.”

One particular mask caught Ellie’s eye. She held it up to Ashton with a grin.

“This one reminds me of you.”

It was an ivory white color with gold feathers and details, a big golden sun right at the top. Ashton reminded her of sunshine, and the  mask just seemed so fitting. He smiled sheepishly, taking the mask from her hands and trying it on.

“How do I look?” He asked dramatically, striking a pose. Ellie giggled, reaching up to adjust the mask slightly so it was straight on his face.

“You look amazing, babe,” she answered mid laugh. The bright colors were a contrast against his dyed black hair, and she thought it looked nice on him. “It suits you.”

Ashton glanced at the wall for a moment before picking out a bright blue one, covered in sparkles.

“I think this one suits you, pretty girl. Matches your nail polish.”

She placed the mask on her face and copied him, striking a pose. He laughed, quickly reaching for his camera. He took lovely photos of her pulling silly faces, both of them giggling throughout one of the many mini photo shoots they had. 

“Now I want one of both of us,” she announced with a pout, reaching for her phone again, but Ashton stopped her short.

“I can take it on here, and I’ll send it to you once I get them on my computer.”

Ellie agreed and positioned herself next to him. He held up the camera backwards, and Ellie could never figure out how he could manage to get both of them perfectly in the shot without seeing the screen, but he was the professional, not her. Both smiled big for the camera, and he took the photo.

The two eventually left the mask shop after deciding to forgo buying the masks they tried on, and continued to wander the streets of the French Quarter. They ducked into multiple other shops to see what they had. There were souvenirs, art, voodoo, anything one could possibly think of. Ashton was itching to take some mysterious photos in Marie Laveau’s House of Voodoo, but there was a strict “no photos” rule, much to his disappointment. 

Thankfully, New Orleans was a very photogenic city. There were plenty of other places for him to indulge in his art, and he had an absolute field day. The architecture that was purely New Orleans amazed him, and he took numerous pictures of Ellie standing in front of the unique buildings. A few fans recognized Ellie and came up to say hi, and Ashton gladly took pictures for them. 

The sun had begun to set, and the couple started to get hungry for dinner. It didn’t long for them to decide on The Gumbo Shop, and they started to make their way there. 

“Stop right here, pretty girl.”

She gave him a pointed look, trying to bite back the smile forming on her face, but she was sure she was failing at that.

“How do you still have any space left on your camera to take more pictures? Seriously, you’ve taken, like, a million just today,” she commented, and he chuckled and shook his head.

“I have room for more, trust me. Just stand right here for me, yeah? Perfect.”

There was a fence behind you with vines and greenery growing in and around it from behind, pink flowers growing on them. It was a pleasing sight, and the pale pink of Ellie’s skirt matched the flowers wonderfully. Plus, it was golden hour, and he adored the way she shone in the setting sunlight. Ashton kneeled on the ground, camera at the ready.

“Smile, pretty girl.”

She tucked her hands behind her back and angled her body slightly, softly and sweetly smiling at the camera. He adjusted the angles and the focus to get the shots he wanted, and Ellie switched up her poses. She was so used to modeling for him, she could usually figure out what he wanted her to do before he said it.

He eventually stood upright and let the camera hang again, opening his arms for her to come to him.

“So fucking gorgeous, sweetheart,” he mumbled, wrapping her in a hug and pressing a kiss to her forehead. She melted into his embrace, resting her cheek against the bare skin that his slightly open shirt exposed. Ashton never failed to make her feel special, make her feel beautiful, and he treated her like a person, not a celebrity. It was one of the many things she loved and appreciated about him; he loved her for her. 

“Can I take one of you, handsome? Please?” She asked, glancing up at him with wide eyes. Ashton was very protective of his precious camera, but Ellie was one of the few people he trusted enough to take a few photos with it. He grinned and nodded, planting one more kiss to her forehead.

“Sure, baby.”

He removed the camera strap from around his neck and placed it on hers, making sure she had it before letting go.

“Remember which button it is?” He questioned, and she nodded. There were far too many buttons and knobs on the device in Ellie’s opinion, and Ashton knew what each of them were for, but she could make do with just the one that took the pictures.

They switched spots and Ashton stood in front of the fence. He wasn’t used to being in front of the camera, and he was a little awkward when it came to posing, but Ellie didn’t care. She loved it when he let her take pictures of him; it was kind of fun to be in his shoes for a moment, get a taste of what he did everyday. 

“You look so good, babe!” She cheered after she took a few, smiling widely at him. He only chuckled and shook his head as he made his way back over to her, taking the camera back.

“Thank you, but I much prefer taking pictures of you, pretty girl,” he mumbled, reaching for her hand yet again.

After a delicious gumbo dinner and a stop back at Cafe du Monde for dessert, they decided to call it a night and head back to the hotel. They would hit the bars another night.

While Ellie popped into the shower, Ashton got comfortable on the bed with his back against the headboard and his laptop sitting in his lap, camera next to him. He knew Ellie would want to see the pictures as soon as possible, so he loaded the pictures onto the computer right away.

They had just finished loading when Ellie came out of the bathroom, wearing one of Ashton’s shirts and a pair of panties. She was just finishing putting her wet hair into a braid as she made her way to the bed, crawling in next to him.

“Did you get the pictures up?” She asked, glancing at the screen. He nodded.

“Yep, they just finished.”

Ellie excitedly cuddled into his side and rested her head on his chest, ready to see all the photos taken that day. Ashton slowly scrolled through them, both of them examining them. Some didn’t come out great, as to be expected, but others were beautiful, and they would look even better once Ashton got around to editing them. 

“You’re so talented, babe,” Ellie sighed contentedly once they reached the end. 

“The pictures wouldn’t look nearly as good if you weren’t in them, pretty girl,” he mumbled sweetly, shutting his laptop and moving it to the bedside table. “Doesn’t matter how good the pictures are if I’m not taking a picture of something worth photographing.” He pressed a swift kiss to her forehead before standing up to get himself ready for bed. 

“You flatter me,” she teased, crawling under the blankets to wait for him.

“It’s the truth!” He called from the bathroom, and Ellie sighed happily again.

A few minutes later, Ashton emerged in just his boxers, crawling back into bed, and Ellie was quick to snuggle into him again. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders as he reached to turn off the lamp, cascading the room in darkness. 

“Had so much fun today, Ash,” Ellie whispered, pressing a kiss to his bare collarbone. “Thank you for taking me.”

“Of course.” He shifted slightly to get more comfortable, but kept a firm hold on Ellie. “I had fun, too.”

“Goodnight, handsome.”

“Goodnight, pretty girl.”

Ellie and Ashton fell into slumber, ready for another day full of good food, fun sights, and many, many more pictures. 

[kimmibers]

Elvish

Good Evening All, Wow it's been a while since I have been able to update any of my stories and I'm so sorry for the wait, I've had A LOT going on this past year. Brain surgery to moving house it's been bonkers! So if you have been following my other stories I'm so so sorry! To get back into writing again I have wrote a little tiddle lol I keep dreaming all these scenes and finally got to a point to be able to write them down!

So in regards to the below little snippet if it is in Italics then this is spoken in Elvish. I did get the translations, but it I didn't want half the story to be lost in translation. Anyway enough wittering on from me. I hope you enjoy :) Please review and if you have any constructive criticism (other than to kill myslef!) then I will happily take it on board.

Kim xxx

Elvish

War. If Hinata had learned anything about war it was this; It consumes everything and everyone. It's like a virus. Hate, violence, innocence lost, the earth scorched, damaged. The war of Elves verses humans has been a continuous battle since she was a child. Now at the age of 21 she just felt, loss.

Kneeling on another battlefield she knelt by her comrade trying in vain to stop the bleeding. She was no medic, but she knew basics. Blood needing to stay in the body is a basic she was failing.

"It's okay, Princess. She calls me home." He spoke in their tongue; elvish. Hinata shook her head. Who was she to deny their Deity?

Hinata felt a hand squeeze her shoulder. Neji, her cousin, always has her back.

"He's gone, Hinata." He confirmed. She sat back and looked at her blood stained hands. Not just Tori's, all the men and women who had died over the years. Did anyone even remember why this war had started, she wondered. Every battle more soul's cried out in pain; lost loved ones, wanted revenge; it was a viscous circle she had to end. Grabbing her trusted bow Hinata stood and walked from the battlefield. No longer would she be a pawn in this game of war.

Sasuke trekked through the dense forest, as silent as a panther stalking it's prey. He had to find the elves, they are his only hope. He's been warned many a time this was a suicide mission, but it was this or watching his brother fade away to nothing and he was not willing to do that; he couldn't.

"Not a step closer human!"

In a blink on an eye Sasuke could see 6 elves all with arrows aiming for his heart. He knew he could only see the 6 because they wanted him to. The forest is their domain. They knew how to hide and conceal themselves.

"Why come here human?"

Sasuke looked at each of elves, the only similarities between them are fact they are all male. Like humans they each had their own distinctive features and personalities.

"You know I never really planned on making it this far." Sasuke smirked.

"Anyone understand this man?"

Sasuke watched as the 6 male elves shook their heads.

"You don't understand me as much as I don't understand you." He guessed.

"Neji!, she is here." Came a call from the trees.

In an instant Sasuke was pushed to his knees and felt the point of an arrow at the back of his head. At the same time another 15 elves dropped to the forest floor and knelt on one knee, as a hooded figure emerged from the trees. The cloak's hood concealed all features making it impossible to see who wore it. As the figure moved closer the cloak made it seem as they were gliding over the forest floor.

Sasuke held his head high. At least if he were to die now he would be with his brother in death and wait for him on the other side.

The figure, now but a breath away removed their hood revealing the female elf. Sasuke had to squint his eyes from the sudden light that surrounded her. Strangely he heard a females heavenly voice singing. At first thinking perhaps an angel coming to welcome him to the other side, but soon realised they were singing in Elvish.

Once the glow surrounding her faded Sasuke was able to make out her facial features. Like the male who had been talking to him before he noted she had violet eyes and although pupil-less, unlike the males her's didn't seem as unfriendly.

"Good evening, man." She spoke as she knelt on the grass in front of him.

Sasuke met her stare and felt as if her eyes were searching his soul.

"If you're here to kill me can we get this over and done with now."

"Careful Hinata, we can't trust him. He is human after all." The male elf spoke with venom and dug the arrow deeper in to the back of his head, causing Sasuke to wince in pain.

"Neji." The female spoke gently to the male elf, "No blood is to be spilt during the festival of Kanenis. You must know this by now."

"But Hinata-".

"All of you," Sasuke watched as the female elf stood and spoke to her kin, "If even a hair is harmed on this humans head I will see to it you will never see a starry sky again. Do I make myself clear?!"

At her words all the elves covered their hearts with their right fist and bowed. The 6 males who had had their bows draw at him swiftly removed their arrows and placed their bows on to their backs.

Sasuke looked on confused by their actions. Yet even more confusing was the hand of the female held out towards him. He looked at her suspiciously.

"You're not going to kill me?" He asked.

"Come son of man, no harm will come to you."

Sasuke had no clue what she said, perhaps this had been a stupid plan after all; seeking the elves without knowing a word of their language. But something in her tone of voice implored him to not only take her hand, but trust her also.

[gabriel-agreste-has-no-rights]

Rating: T

Summary: Luka is just minding his own business. XY is just hanging from the side of his boat.  Of course XY isn't going to shut up and leave him alone... but maybe that's not entirely a bad thing.

Word Count: 1843 | Chapter 1/4

Notes: Special thanks to Janai and Maddy for beta reading for me!! And being inspirations bc I wouldn’t ship this otherwise lol.  Luxy rights [dabs]

XXX

“C’mon, man, please!  This place is such an unsexy trash heap, she’ll never think to look for me here!”

Luka blinked down at XY from the Liberty’s deck.  Straight down, because the other boy was currently dangling from the side of the ship.  How had he even gotten there?  Tried to jump?  They had a plank, but he hadn’t bothered to ask Luka to lower it.  Luka probably wouldn’t have known he was there if he hadn’t watched his face smush against his bedroom porthole.

The smart thing might have been to ask “what are you doing here,” or maybe even “what makes you think I’ll do you any favors?”  But XY would probably have an easier time answering questions when he wasn’t hanging on by his manicured fingertips.

“Fine.”  He reached a hand down to haul him up.

“Woah!”  XY exclaimed at being yanked on deck.  Luka didn’t know why he was surprised.  He weighed almost as little as Marinette.

He dusted off his purple jacket with a sneer.  “Gross, I think I touched a barnacle.”

“We don’t have barnacles.”  Only because Officer Roger made them scrape the hull once a month, but still.  “You mind telling me why you’re here?”

“Pshaw, yeah.”  He plopped down in one of the folding chairs and crossed his feet on the table like he owned the place.  Unsurprising, considering his attitude said he owned everything.  Including his music and Marinette’s designs.

Even though they’d appeared on Bob Roth’s show in the end, that sting never entirely went away.  Maybe it was because it was his first (and only) time being akumatized, but the negative emotions still hung in the air like a discordant note.

Or maybe it was because music was meant to come from the heart, and Luka wasn’t convinced XY even had one.

He sighed and shook his head.  It wouldn’t do any good to confront the boy again and risk another akumatization.

He settled down cross-legged in the chair farthest from XY, where he could still keep an eye on him, but not hear his obnoxious humming quite so clearly.  Maybe working on Marinette’s melody would soothe some of his irritation away.

He was only three chords in when XY started talking.

“Do you know that blonde girl from the hotel?  The mayor’s kid?”

Luka blinked blankly.

“Her name’s er—Cole?  Clover?”

“Chloe?  I think Marinette’s talked about her.  Why?”

“Aaaaanyway, that girl’s been on my tail ever since we started staying at the hotel.  She’s probably my biggest fan.”

“Good for you,” he replied in monotone, strumming a few more chords.  Maybe a D minor would work there…

“No!  Awful for me!  She wants to take me out for pasta.  I don’t even like pasta!  Or girls!”

Luka blinked at that last bit.  “Can’t you just tell her that?”

“Ugh, I wish.”  He sighed, flopping his arms over the sides of the chair so they dangled against the deck.  “Dad says I can’t come out because it’ll be bad for my image.  The only thing I’m good for is my pretty face.”  

He said it like it was a fact.  Something about that turned Luka’s stomach.  He couldn’t imagine hiding being bi from his family.  Juleka knew she was lesbian practically since she was born, which made it a bit easier too, and it wasn’t like their mom cared either way.  

“Music should be about who you are on the inside, not just the way you look,” he said.  “Hiding such an important part of who you are must make it difficult to hear the melodies in your heart.”

XY snorted.  “Not sure what kind of hippie crap you’re talking about.”

Why was he even bothering?  They weren’t friends.  But still, this was the longest conversation he’d had with anyone outside of Juleka’s friends in… he couldn’t remember.

“Why did you tell me this, anyway?”  He asked, shaking off the thought.

“You asked why I was here.  Duh.”  XY dug some wax out of his ear and flicked it on the deck.

“But you said—nevermind.”  

Unsure how else to react, Luka readjusted his guitar and tried to pick up Marinette’s melody again.  But his fingers stumbled over the strings, refusing to press the right frets.

What did it mean that XY had come out to him of all people, when he otherwise wasn’t allowed to?  Didn’t he have anyone else to share his struggles with?  Or was he just trying to draw on Luka’s sympathy to keep him from kicking him off the boat?

Probably that last one.  After all, it didn’t seem like XY even knew this was Luka’s house when he showed up.

“I thought you were supposed to be good,” XY scoffed when Luka butchered another chord.

“I’m just playing the song in your heart.  It’s not my fault you’re out of tune.”

The boy blinked, as if no one had called out like that before.  Luka hadn’t even meant to, really—he should’ve just kept his mouth shut and let his music do the talking.

“I think my heart song needs more bass drops.”

“Wh—that’s what you’re concerned with?”

“Uh, yeah?  Your heart might be a boring guitar solo, but I’ve gotta have some kind of beat.”

Luka just sighed and shook his head.  “Play your own heartsong, then.”

If that was supposed to make XY shut up, it failed miserably.

“Huh.  Sounds like your weird hippie stuff again.”

Luka didn’t point out that he had been the one to argue what his heartsong would sound like in the first place.

“Dad wouldn’t want to hear something like that, anyway,” he mumbled.  “Can’t top the charts with mushy junk.”

“Is that all you care about?  Being number one?”

XY looked at him like he was stupid.  “Yeah.  Why else would I make music?”

Something in his gut twisted.  It was just so wrong, to hear someone talk about music like that.  

“Because you enjoy it?  Because it lets you express yourself?”  

XY snorted.  “Maybe that works for you.  I can’t… it just doesn’t work like that.”

“Have you tried?”

“Yeah!”

Luka jumped at the anger in XY’s voice.  It was nothing like the nasally drawl he was used to.  

His blue eyes flashed with regret before he settled back in the chair. “...Sorry.  That wasn’t very cash money of me.”

XY?  Apologizing?  What kind of nerve had he touched?

“...It’s okay, I guess,” Luka mumbled back.

XY scoffed and ran a hand through his gelled mess of hair.  “This was stupid.”

“What?”  This whole situation was stupid, but probably not for the reasons XY thought.

“You’ve just—you’ve got all kinds of ideas.”

“Yeah?  So?”  Not everyone’s head could be as empty as his.

Luka received another of XY’s are you stupid stares, which was pretty ironic considering which one of them had been hanging off the side of the boat a few minutes ago.

“My dad, no matter what he says—he hates ideas.”

Luka shrugged.  “Sounds like he doesn’t know much about music, then.”

“No, he knows everything about music.  What sells, what doesn’t.  So when he said my original music sucked—I knew he was right.”

“That’s…” That’s terrible didn’t cut it, just like it hadn’t cut it earlier.  He shouldn’t care; it wasn’t like he owed XY his sympathy.  Heck, he didn’t even like him.  

But when it came to having your music rejected… he could only imagine what it would be like to have a family member deny such an important part of his soul.

He might have said that out loud, if the moment hadn’t been broken by a voice from the street.

 “XY!  Where are you?  Stop being utterly ridiculous and come back!  You said you were going to show me your new song!”

“I didn’t say that,” XY hissed, pressing himself flat against the chair.

Luka sat up a bit straighter to see the blonde girl searching the street, her ponytail whipping back and forth.

“I’m guessing that’s Chloe,” he said.

XY clasped his hands together and made a face that was probably supposed to be puppy eyes.  It would’ve worked a lot better if he stopped making those duck lips.

“Don’t rat me out, man, please!  I know you don’t like my music, but you wouldn’t make me—”

“Please, just—shut up.”  Luka rubbed his temples.  XY was going to give himself away by talking that loud.

For once, he actually listened.  Chloe’s shouts rang out for a few more seconds before she decided he must not be at the riverside.

XY heaved a giant sigh.  “Pretty cash money of you to hide me.  I’d better get back now.  Got some new holograms to touch up.”

“You make your own holograms?”

“Pshaw, no.  Dad has people for that.  They like seeing my gorgeous face while they’re at it though.”

Yeah, he should’ve seen that coming.  He didn’t know why even now, he kept holding out hope that XY would show some trace of the real music inside his heart.  Maybe he really was just a tinny pop beat—but when he’d spoken about his dad, he almost sounded like he had a soulful rock ballad hiding under the surface.

Probably just wishful thinking.

XY stood up, brushed off his butt as if the Liberty’s “unsexy garbage” clung to him, and looked over the railing.

“So. Uh.  How do I get off?”

Luka rolled his eyes.  At least he hadn’t jumped off into the river.

“Let me get the plank.”

When he got done rolling the walkway over the edge of the boat to the street, he straightened back up and jumped.

“Didn’t anyone teach you about personal space?”  He glared at XY, whose blue eyes were just inches from his.  They might’ve been pretty if they weren’t so close he could barely see.

Then, as if this day couldn’t get any weirder, XY planted a smooch on his cheek.

“What the heck are you doing?”  Luka moved to wipe the spit off his face, but XY grabbed his wrist first.

“I just increased your face’s net worth by like, a billion euros!  As thanks for getting me out of that jam.  If you’re gonna wipe it off, at least sell the rag on ebay or something.”  He winked.

“I should’ve left you on the side of the boat where you were hanging.”

“But you didn’t.”  

XY, being… himself, almost fell into the river while throwing his hand sign from the plank.  

Luka snorted and shook his head.  At least watching him make a fool of himself was entertaining.

“See you next time I need to hide from Cole.  So probably like, tomorrow.”

“I didn’t invite you back.  I didn’t invite you the first time.”

“Like you’d say no to the number one chart topper in Paris.”

“Number two.”

“Still not a no.  See ya, Lucky!”

“It’s Luka!”

“Luke, right!”

Luka groaned.  That boy was the human equivalent of an out-of-tune trumpet.

But his eyes still followed him down the street until he was out of sight.

[daebakinc]

JB from Got7 in a Pirate Prince AU pretty please! Genre: Romance/Drama ^^

So I totally missed the genre when I read the request, but thankfully the AU naturally leans towards that lol. You’re the only one who’s requested so far, so your drabble turned into more of a mini fic. Hope you enjoy!

At this hour, the docks are less crowded. Most of the usual inhabitants are back at home, out at sea, or mired in the taverns. Now, the only obstacles you have to worry about are the uneven cobblestones, puddles and the occasional drunk. For that, you are eternally grateful as you race back to your tavern, The Moon, with your precious bundle.

“What kind of idiot tavern-keeper runs out of wine at night?” you mutter to yourself, jumping over a puddle.

You hadn't even heard of the vintage Junho had sent you out for with a hurried demand and gold thrust into your hand. He was lucky you were friends with the tradesman's daughter, Jia. She had unlocked the door when you pounded on it minutes after the shop closed and let you in. Thankfully, she recognized the name of the wine and dug it from the cellar.

Why in the world Junho needed this wine so desperately, you had no idea. The tavern's own cellar had been full when you last checked it to get more rum for Chan's recently docked crew. He could have easily pulled a wine from there. Any sailor worth his salt knew you went to The Moon for good food and better alcohol to chase away the cold of the sea.

Turning the corner, you can see The Moon herself. Moonlight slants across her sign, a crescent moon high above unruly waves. As it always does, your heart warms at the sight of the light-filled windows and from within,, the faint tune of a sea shanty passed down through so many hands none knows where it came from.

Sure, the clientele could be rough, with its mix of merchant sailors, naval soldiers, and pirates alike rubbing elbows. But you can hold your own among them. You can throw a punch as hard as any man and drink just as much as one too. Plus, the drunk ones usually tipped incredibly generously.  One day, you'll have enough money saved up to open your own tavern to rival The Moon.

“One day,” you say softly to yourself. Slowing your run to a walk, you walk down the street.

A shadow melts from an alleyway and blocks your way. Back bent, the figure holds out a weather-worn hand. “Spare a penny, miss?”

“I'm sorry, sir. I don't have any money on me,” you reply, kicking yourself for leaving your purse on your bed. You move around the beggar. “But if you come to the back of the kitchen of The Moon just down there, I can get you some hot food if you'd like. Just ask for–”

Faster than you can react, the man straightens, grabs your arm, and slams you to the wall of the shop. Clapping a hand around your mouth, he growls, “I don't want food, damn you. You night wenches always have gold on you. I asked nicely, so now I'll just have to take it.”

You splutter and try to bite his hand, but his grip is too tight. When you try to kick him, he slams his body more fully against yours, your head smacking against the stone so your vision blurs. That doesn't stop the disgusted shiver that racks your limbs as your attacker's hands roam your body in search of money. Instead, he finds the wine in its sack and wrenches it from your grasp.

“What is this?” He holds it up to the streetlamp, trying to read its label.

A hand snatches it from him. “This is mine, as is the woman.”

You both turn your heads to stare at the interloper. Spotless black boots and trousers hug his legs and the street lamp's light catches the silver thread in a white shirt that flutters slightly in the night breeze. More silver winks at his ears, partially hidden as they are beneath shaggy ebony hair and the gray velvet hat on his head. If not for the circumstances, you would have very much admired his face, for it is more handsome than any prince's you've ever seen.

The foul-smelling man pressed against you recovers his wits first. “Yours? Says who? I found her first.” He tightens his hold on you, and you can't help the whimper of pain that escapes your covered mouth.

Something sparks in the other man's eyes, then dies as he shrugs nonchalantly. “If you want to do it that way, fine. I was trying to be civil, but you force my hand.” With the smoothness of a dancer, he pulls a pistol from his back and cocks it with his free hand.

You're suddenly dragged from the wall and held by the throat against your attacker. “This really your woman? You wouldn't shoot her then.”

You fight the urge to throw up as your heart pounds and your knees weaken with the lack of oxygen. You don't want to die tonight and now you just might. It's just a question of who will be your killer.

The handsome man winks at you. For a second, you have hope. Then a gunshot rings out.

You squeeze your eyes shut, prepared for death, but you feel nothing. Did he shoot you through the heart so you died instantly?

“Ha! You missed! You only had one shot!” The sound of your attacker's voice rudely brings you back to the present where you are very much alive.

“I did miss, but I did that on purpose,” he says with a smile. It's the cold smile of a cat who's caught his prey and is about to snap its neck. “Because he cannot miss.”

The unmistakable click of a pistol sounds behind you. The next second, you're on the ground, gasping for air. Footsteps run back towards the docks and the sea.

“Should I take care of him, your Highness?” a new man's voice asks.

“He tried to steal my wine, Jinyoung. You know the answer. Join us in the tavern once you're done.” Hands, much gentler than the pair before, grip your shoulders to help you sit upright. “Are you alright, miss?”

You're unsure if it's still your lack of air or just how impossibly good-looking the man is up close, but it takes more than a few minutes for you to find your words. “I'm fine, thank you, sir.”

“Jaebum is fine.” He lifts your chin with his thumb and forefinger, eyes searching over your face. “That may bruise later, but I think you'll be fine. He didn't hurt you anywhere else, did he?”

“No, he didn't. He might have if you hadn't come when you did.” You offer him a small, thankful smile, flattered when he gives you one in return.

Sweeping his hat from his head, he gives you the best bow he can for being already kneeling. “Rescuing beautiful, young ladies in distress is something I don't get to do a lot, so I can't let the opportunity pass when it happens. May I escort you to your destination?”

“No need, it's just there.” You point to The Moon's sign, trying not to let his compliment go to your head like strong rum. “I'm a barmaid there. But I will need that wine back, please, Jaebum.”

Jaebum shakes his head with a laugh. “I think I'll keep it as payment for my good deed. It is my favorite wine after all.”

“I thought you said you liked rescuing ladies in distress? Shouldn't you do it for free then?” You put your hands out to push yourself to your feet, but instead, Jaebum offers his hand. After a second's hesitation, you take it.

“What kind of pirate would I be then? Careful!” He catches you easily when your legs refuse to hold your weight. “Well, we can't have you continuing to sit on these cold flagstones. If you don't mind, my lady.”

With no other warning, his arm slides beneath your legs and you're suddenly airborne. Your hands instinctively goes to his chest, your fingers finding the slit of his neckline to meet both the warm skin and cool chain there. Bemused, you notice he's still firmly holding the bottle of wine.

“A pirate,” you remark as Jaebum carries you towards the tavern. “I should have known.”

“You have objections to my profession?”

“No. The wealthy who you rob have far too much money if you ask me, and in the end, all your money is gold.”

Jaebum laughs again, the sound as much music as the fiddle coming from within the tavern as you reach the door. “A woman after my own heart, though I do prefer silver.”

Somehow, he manages to open the tavern door without your help. To your surprise, silence sweeps through the large room like a winter-gale. All eyes are on you and Jaebum as he strides in and makes his way to the biggest table by the fire occupied by five men. They stand as Jaebum approaches.

“At ease, gentlemen,” he says, depositing you on one of the benches. “My lady, this is my crew. The best pirate crew you've ever and will ever seen.”

You notice now that despite the differences in their clothes, all of their shirts bear the same twin silver lines down the front as Jaebum's. Odd for pirates to wear uniforms, but you've seen stranger.

“Where's Jinyoung?” one of the men asks, glancing at you with questioning eyes. Behind him, the tavern slowly comes back to life, but many eyes continue to steal furitive glances at the table.

“He had to take care of a small rat problem, Youngjae. He'll be back soon.”

“And who is this?”

“My guest,” Jaebum says simply.

“I couldn't possibly,” you immediately reply, swinging your legs over the bench to get up. “I have a job to do.”

“A word of advice, my lady.” Another of Jaebum's men lays his hand on your shoulder, the weight not forceful, but its purpose undeniable. “When the Prince of Pirates himself requests your company, you comply.”

“The Prince of Pirates?” you repeat, looking at Jaebum again. Son of the Pirate King, the Dread Pirate Roberts?

He seems to read the unease in your face and gives you a reassuring smile that you're sure has charmed many other women before you. “You have nothing to fear from me, my lady. I can be the perfect gentleman when I want to be.”

“I –“ Your words stop in throat when he takes your hand to kiss the back of it.

“Tonight, you're my guest.” Those dangerous, intriguing cat eyes are back as he looks at you over your hand. “I insist.”

For the life of you, you can't find the will or desire to deny him.

[vannahfanfics]

I know you've currently got quite the list already, but could i request an X Drake and Jewelry Bonney fic with the prompt "Birthday Cake"? It can be platonic or romantic, as there isn't as much of an age gap between them (Oda says even he isn't really sure of her real age due to her powers), but go with what you're comfortable with. I just like someone as stern but secretly shy as Drake interacting with a woman as rough and boisterous as Bonney, lol.

Here’s your latest request, love! It is definitely the sauciest thing I have ever written and you can jot that down to my headcanon that Bonney is a flirtatious little devil queen. Fufufufu, I hope you enjoy it <3

Icing on the Cake

Bonney released a loud, contented sigh as she plopped down onto the bar chair, leaning against its wooden back as she propped her booted feet on the small table. She slung her arm lazily over the shoulder and twirled the luscious strands of her bubblegum-pink hair around her finger while flashing a wink at the very uncomfortable waiter. He flushed the color of her hair before whirling on his heel to scurry off to the bar, because the entirety of the staff already knew what “Big Eater” Bonney liked to partake in. This particular bar was one of her favorite haunts, and regardless of where she was or what she was doing, she always made a voyage to this island at a particular time of the year…

This bar, of all the many restaurants Bonney had frequented in her life, simply had the most delectable, delicious, irresistible birthday cake that she had ever tasted!

The bar had been anticipating her arrival, as most of the patrons consisted of her crew, who were already in various states of drunk. Plates and glasses had already begun flying about, and the poor cleaning staff were struggling to maneuver brooms through the writhing, sweaty bodies to sweep away the glass, because the rowdy pirates would surely turn on them once they got a glass shard to the sole of their foot. A large flagon of cream soda was delivered to Bonney’s waiting hand. Normally, of course, she would drown herself in alcohol like the rest of her mates, but the bitter taste of beer went horribly with the sweet birthday cake! No, tonight, Bonney was going to deliver herself to a sugar coma rather than a drunken stupor.

A big smile painted her face as she sloppily chugged on the frothy soda, a faint line of fizz decorating her face as she slammed it down and demanded another. Balancing the chair on two legs as she contentedly eased it back and forth, Bonney was relaxed despite the raucous atmosphere. Birthday cake~ Birthday cake~ she chanted blissfully in her mind, swinging her finger about to the tune. Everywhere else she would be slamming her fists and hurling chairs if she didn’t immediately have her food, but this was the rare instance in which patience was well rewarded. Drool began to pool in the corner of her mouth as she imagined it being brandished on a silver platter, an entire tiered strawberry and cream cake being presented to her and her only… Ooh, she could literally taste the creamy buttercream on her tongue already! She clicked her tongue as she reeled her mind back in, lest she truly become irritable at waiting. She didn’t want to hound the kitchen staff at the expense at her delicious cake, after all…

The door to the bar was suddenly slammed open. Everyone in the bar hall, including Bonney, whirled their heads about to stare in awe at whoever dared to trespass on what was temporarily the pirate lass’s domain. Her mouth twisted into a mischievous smirk as she recognized the large, hulk, intimidating form of Marine-turned-pirate X Drake. His sharp blue eyes scanned the disheveled bar scene until they landed on Bonney’s lounging, grinning form.

“My, my. It seems this bar is already taken.” Bonney released a coquettish whimper as his low, rumbling, deep voice graced her pretty little ears; Bonney’s love of men nearly rivaled her love of food, and she would be a fool to deny that the muscled ginger cut a very attractive figure. His eyes were trained on her, waiting for her reaction, and Bonney instantly shifted into coy vixen mode. With a girlish flutter of her eyelashes, she began tracing intricate patterns into the exposed skin of her thigh and shifted her body to give him a healthy view of her assets.

“Nonsense, Drake,” she cooed invitingly. “The more the merrier. Come sit with me a while <3” She had to physically suppress a squeal of satisfaction as a flush of red crept up his neck, and her teeth bit into the soft flesh of her lower lip as she imagined the fun little games she was about to play with him. He stood stiffly in the doorway, weighing his options, before he very slowly strode into the building towards the flirtatious pirate captain. His crew spilled in after him, and within a few minutes, the bar was back to its noisy, jostling, chaotic state.

Bonney refused to remove her feet from the table as Drake dragged a chair over to sit across from her; after all, her long, shapely legs were one of her best features, and like hell she wasn’t going to have them on full display for her handsome suitor. “Tell me,” she hummed while continuing to paint invisible patterns in her milky smooth skin, “what brings X Drake to this little spot in the sea?” His eye flickered uncomfortably to her swirling finger before darting back up to her.

“What brings Jewelry Bonney to this little spot in the sea?” he countered calmly. She fell back into the chair with an airy laugh; oh, he was playing along, how fun! She tilted her head, exposing her neck to him with every amount of suggestiveness, and eyed him good-humoredly.

“Oh, were you not aware? It’s my birthday, and this little joint happens to have the best birthday cake in all the Grand Line!” His expression remained stony.

“Happy birthday.” She pursed her lips in a disappointed pout, finally bringing her legs down from the table only to plaster her large chest across its surface; the blush crept further up Drake’s thick neck as they nearly spilled out of her flimsy ruffled tank top.

“Oh, Drakey, honey, surely you can manage more feeling than that?” she whined pitifully. “You make me think you don’t care!” The corner of his mouth tugged down into a very painful frown. Bonney was not one to let up the chase. The chair’s legs piercingly scraped the floor as she dragged it closer to him to wrap a dainty little hand around his thick bicep. His ears were burning pink now, and he looked away with a grunt as it blazed over his cheeks.

“What are you doing, woman?”

“Why, I’m just enjoying the company of a sexy man~” she answered unabashedly. “There’s nothing else to do while I wait for my birthday cake, so I might as well have a little fun <3” She let out a shrieking, excited giggle as he looked at her incredulously, and, with a faint bit of fear. Ahaha! Could he be shy with women? A weakness I never expected from him, but amusing all the same! “What is it?” she asked with a striking but false change in mood, her eyes growing big and wide and her lips poking out in a sad little pout. “Do you not think I’m pretty?” One of her many talents was crying on command, so it was nothing to will a few sparkling tears into her big brown eyes.

“What? I- no- of course- um,” he began stammering uncontrollably. As his face turned the color of a tomato, Bonney simply couldn’t help but begin chortling; oh, how easy it was to fluster him! “Y-you’re a very striking young lady…” he admitted after repairing the short-circuit in his frazzled brain. Bonney squealed in delight and then all but jumped into his lap, hooking her long legs at either side of the chair while she pressed her lower abdomen against his. Drake’s back slammed into the back of the chair in a pitiful effort to put distance between them, but the wooden structure prevented his escape. Chuckling darkly as her eyes glittered hungrily, she began running her nails lightly up and down his chiseled, exposed pectoral and abdominal muscles.

“Tell me, how do you get muscles like these? Your workout regimen must be brutal,” she tutted in mock sympathy.

“What are you doing?” he growled through clenched teeth. Bonney clicked her tongue and lightly tapped the underside of his chin.

“Oh, lighten up, honey; it’s just a bit of fun, like I said. What, do you not enjoy a strapping young fox like me on your lap? You want a little younger? Or a little older?” she asked tauntingly, using her Devil Fruit powers to alter her appearance in accordance to her questions. Drake had his head tilted back and eyes trained on the ceiling. Ah, his resistance was so much more satisfying than him drooling at her feet! His large hands suddenly jumped up to wrap firmly around her upper arms.

“This is not my idea of fun.” His tense growl was in direct opposite to the sneaking glance he shot at her cleavage. Bonney cooed like a dove, leaning forward to very purposefully press them against the X-mark tattooed to his chest. Her hand swept up to his head, knocking off his flared hat to begin teasing his styled golden-orange hair. “You are playing a dangerous game,” he warned with a pointed look, but this time made no effort to cease her ministrations. Bonney bit down on her tongue, giving a pleased wriggle on his lap as he began to relinquish himself to her teasing clutches.

“I love dangerous games,” she breathed against his face, eyelashes fluttering like innocent butterflies. His fingers dug into the flesh of her upper arm as he wrestled with his own pride and self-control; she was having such a way with him so easily, so of course the poor thing was resisting it. A vein was bulging in his forehead from how hard he was trying to curb Bonney’s temptations. Slowly, very slowly, his hands loosened and slid down her slim arms to settle at the curved juncture of her waist and hips. “Atta boy, Drakey,” she applauded, awarding him with another sensual fidget on her throne.

“I don’t know who’s the dangerous one here, me or you,” he laughed dryly. The man was finally beginning to enjoy himself, judging from the deprecating leer he was wearing. Bonney snickered as she traced the X-shaped scar decorating his prominent chin.

“Definitely me.” Her brown eyes flickered to the door of the kitchen as it was thrust open, and finally, finally, her birthday cake was ready. It was a massive specimen, made of four spongey tiers laden with buckets of thick white icing with gobs of bright pink icing painting the edges. It was covered in round rainbow sprinkles which were raining down onto the wooden floor as the three cooks hobbled towards the table, burdened by its massive weight. Bonney clapped her hands together with a trill of glee and whirled around so that her back was now resting against Drake’s broad chest.

“Are you really going to eat all that?” he asked with obvious concern. Bonney tutted and reached behind her to pat his cheek.

“Oh, honey, you really do know nothing about me. We’ll have to amend that,” she sighed deeply in play hurt. Her expression didn’t convey that in the slightest, however; her starving eyes were like glittering smoky quartz as she licked her lips, beholding the ginormous birthday cake as it was slid onto the table, ripe for her taking. Bonney was not one for propriety; she wasn’t going to take this baby a slice at a time. No sooner had the head chef handed her a large fork did she stab into the bottom tier of the cake, revealing the rich strawberry cake concealed beneath the curtain of white. She heard Drake choke as she shoveled a huge mass of the cake into her mouth. Instantaneously, she was delivered to the realm of sugary bliss. The strawberry cake was just the perfect texture and burst in sweet-tart sambas across her tongue, while the saccharine creamy icing waltzed in slower but no less powerful tunes in conjunction. With a small groan of pleasure, she melted against the very confused and confusingly aroused man seated beneath her petite frame. After the sweet fog cleared from her mind, she grinned devilishly and looked up at Drake, making quite a show of licking excess icing from the corner of her mouth.

“How cruel. You’re going to make me sit here and watch while I get nothing?” The way his deep bass voice rumbled against her back was so nice to Bonney. Coyly, she pressed a finger to her lips as feigned mulling the prospect over. Of course, there was no way in hell she was going to sacrifice even one sliver of her birthday cake to him, at least not yet… But, there was a way she could spin the situation further into her favor.

“Oh, what to do? You have been so generous in keeping me entertained, so perhaps I can let you have just a little taste,” she reasoned as she rolled her gaze around thoughtfully before landing on his face once more. Eyes trained on the smug and amused X Drake, she dipped a finger in the thick icing before smearing it all over her slightly puckered lips. His eyebrows shot up to the roots of his hair, and Bonney laughed delightedly while kicking the floor with the soles of her boots at the return of his bashfulness. He gulped and stared hard at the sweet icing decorating her soft and oh so very kissable lips. “What is it, Drakey?” she asked while twisting to the side to lounge against his thick arm, which was draped over the edge of the table. “You’d better hurry before I change my mind,” she said while teasingly flicking the top of her bottom lip with the very tip of her tongue.

“You are a seductress,” he snarled huskily at her in a blend of frustration and hilarity. Bonney arched her back into him as his face descended quickly over hers, hungry lips devouring hers in an instant. Bonney’s hand played with his now-mussed tufts of ginger hair as his tongue greedily licked every trace of icing from her lips. Of course he didn’t stop there; as Bonney laughed lightly, it dove into her mouth to tangle heatedly with her own, and she found the flavor of him mixing with the sweet taste of the icing to be simply immaculate. Happy birthday to me~

Bonney had ventured to this little hole-in-the-wall, backwater island for some simple birthday fun, but landing a big, tough, manly playmate for the night was definitely the icing on the cake…  

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to perusemy Tableof Contents!

Tag List: @searchfortheonepiece

[taetaespeaches]

ok so i may or may not had hypoglycemia today at college hehe but i was wondering what would the boys react if their s/o had diabetes and this happened (just a diabetic girl suffering and thinking wow what if they date someone like me and olivia haha)

Hello my dm1 partner! Squad lol. I hope your blood glucose is good now and that you’re feeling ok :) 

a/n:Oh boy, so Mariana gave me a chance to write something diabetes related and I went OFF. Here is my first reaction ever so I hope you all enjoy it (especially you @newodds) but seriously, I’ve looked for this exact reaction before because diabetes is a struggle and sometimes you just want to know how your bts boyfriend would react to it. Here’s how I see the boys reacting to their s/o being diabetic and hypoglycemic (low blood sugar). Symptoms of hypoglycemia include shakiness, hot flashes, disorientation, light headedness, heart palpitations, hunger, mood swings, plus more. This also mentions hyperglycemia (high blood sugar). Also, I use a continuous glucose monitor, which I included in the Jungkook reaction. Basically the monitor alerts you when you’re hyper/hypoglycemic, and it keeps beeping at you every five minutes until you acknowledge it.  

Seokjin

“Baby, only 15 grams,” Jin gently reminded you as you dug through the cupboard full of various snacks. There were cookies, crackers, granola bars, cereal, and so much more, and fuck you were hungry. Turning your head just enough so your boyfriend was in your sight, you shot him a glare. 

“I’m low and I want food,” you said in frustration.

“I know, but just eat something small first and then we’ll see how you feel in a bit,” Jin told you gently. 

“But I want cookies and a pop tart,” you whined. “And those apple jacks look mighty tasty.“ 

Jin approached you from across the kitchen, his hands meeting your hips as he rested his chin on your shoulder. "I know it all looks good, but if you eat it all, you’re going to be hyperglycemic and then you’ll be mad at yourself and you’ll probably be moody and be mean to me,” he pouted his lips. “Do you really want to be mean to me, baby?”

Pulling your eyebrows together, you glared at him. “Well, you’re denying me food so yeah, I kind of want to be mean to you." 

Smiling at you, he shook his head as he reached up to grab the cookies out of the cupboard. "Ok, have a couple cookies, we know two of these cookies is just about 15 grams of carbs.” Jin dug into the cookie container to pull two out, holding them out to you as he put the container back in the cupboard and shut it. 

“I’m not a child,” you sassily remarked as you continued to glare at him. 

“Are you sure?” He asked, sass evident in his voice. “You’re acting like one.”

Taking the cookies from him, you shoved one in your mouth as you made your way to the living room, plopping down on the couch. 

Jin followed shortly behind, slowly sitting down next to you. “Are you mad at me?” He asked you with a pout on his face. 

Sighing, you shook your head. “No, I’m not mad at you. I’m just frustrated. I hate having to deal with this fucking disease sometimes. And it’s stupid because I’m just mad about not being able to eat everything I want to eat, but it’s annoying,” you ranted. Your boyfriend stared at you, eyes stuck to yours as he listened attentively to your every word. “I’m sorry, it just gets so,” you huffed, “frustrating.” Jin placed his hand on your lower back as he rubbed up and down soothingly.

“Don’t apologize,” he told you sincerely. “You didn’t ask for this disease, it’s not fair, and you’re allowed to be upset about it every now and then.” You slowly nodded at your boyfriend’s understanding words. 

“Thank you,” you crawled into his lap, nuzzling your face into his chest, wrapping your arms around his body. “For being so understanding,” you looked up at him. Leaning upwards a bit, you placed a soft kiss to Jin’s neck. “And for dealing with my bitchy attitude every time I go low or high. I’m sorry my mood gets so unpleasant." 

"Stop saying sorry, I understand,” he kissed your forehead, making you smile adoringly at him. “Besides, your mood is never that bitchy.” You shot him a feigned glare before you burst into a fit of giggles. 

“And you’re not that much of an ass,” you shot back playfully. Jin laughed in amusement as he kissed your forehead again.

Yoongi

As the shakiness started to set in, you knew you were headed towards a low. 

However, you forgot to replace your emergency snacks in your bag despite your boyfriend constantly reminding you to do so, and he was currently looking at new sound equipment. You attempted to play it cool, acting as if you felt fine, not wanting to make him hurry through his shopping. You were going to lunch in no more than fifteen minutes anyway, you’d be fine, you told yourself. “Hey, are you listening?” Yoongi suddenly broke through your thoughts and disorientation. 

“Huh, yeah, sorry,” you responded, shaking your head as if you were shaking off your seeming aloofness. 

Yoongi’s eyes on you became more intense as he scrutinized your face. “You look out of it,” he told you, his tone teetering on knowing. 

“I just got tired all of a sudden,” you said nonchalantly. Raising his eyebrows at you, Yoongi reached for your hand. 

“Jesus, kid, you’re burning up,” he pointed out. “How long have you been feeling low?" 

"I’m not low,” you lied to him, despite knowing you were busted. Holding you by your wrist, he lifted your hand up to your eye level to show you both how shaky you were. Cocking his head at you, he waited for your answer. “It’s only been like five minutes–”

“Dammit, y/n,” Yoongi grumbled, dropping your hand and walking around you until he was positioned behind you. You felt tugging on your back as Yoongi dug into your backpack that was hung off your shoulders. 

“I didn’t restock my snacks,” you told him sheepishly with a pout. Suddenly, Yoongi was zipping your backpack up. Stepping in front of you, he held out a rice krispie treat, just barely looking at you, mostly directing his gaze to the exit door of the store. “I could have sworn I was out,” you told him, quickly taking the treat and tearing the wrapper off. 

“You were,” he told you, annoyance in his tone. “I put more in there before we left the dorm.” You simply stared at him, pouting your lips. Turning to look at you, the corners of his lips twitched upwards just the slightest bit, letting you know he wasn’t really that angry with you. “Eat,” he nodded at the treat in your hands, to which you did immediately. His eyes softened as he watched you eat the treat. With a huff, he grabbed your hand and led you towards the exit, forgetting all about the sound equipment he was considering purchasing. “I also have a whole stash of these in the car, so next time you’re hypoglycemic, tell me." 

"I’m sorry,” you apologized, casting your gaze downwards as you followed him out of the store. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he chuckled. Pulling you into his side, he placed a sweet kiss to your forehead. “Let’s just go get some lunch, you brat.”

Hoseok

Watching you boyfriend in the mirror as he ran through the steps in a slowed down version so you could attempt to pick the choreography up, you nodded when his eyes flicked to yours in your reflections. “Got it?” He asked with a smile. 

“I think so,” you bit your bottom lip. Teaching you BTS’s choreography was something both you and Hoseok enjoyed, and you were actually starting to grasp the moves for “Mic Drop”. 

As Hoseok watched you dance, he chuckled when you nearly tripped over yourself. “Don’t laugh,” you pouted, though a smile was just barely being concealed. 

“You’re just cute,” he told you with a fond smile. As he broke the steps down again, you felt yourself slowly start to lose focus. Hoseok noticed you becoming slightly wobbly as he looked at your reflection with squinted eyes. “You ok?”You shook your head. “I think I’m hypoglycemic,” you told him. “I need to take a break." 

"Do you have something to eat?” He asked, his eyes widened in worry. You nodded as you walked towards your bag. 

“I have some juice,” you told him, pulling out a juice pouch. As you drank your juice, Hoseok pulled two chairs over to you. 

“Here, sit down for a bit,” he told you as he sat in the chair he placed across from yours. Both of you sat, sitting across from each other, your knees knocking into each other occasionally. “Are you ok?” Hoseok asked you again, to which you simply nodded and smiled assuringly. Your boyfriend nodded back at you, reaching forward to clasp his palms over your kneecaps. 

“You’re starting to really get the choreography,” he smiled at you. “You look good doing it,” his sweet smile turned into a teasing smirk. “Really good." 

"Stop,” you giggled. “You horn dog,” you shook your head in feigned disapproval, making him laugh at you and himself. “Just give me a few minutes and we can get back to it.”

“Get back to what?” Hoseok asked, confusion set across his features. 

“The choreo,” you told him as if it was obvious. 

“Flower, maybe we should just call it a day. We’ve been at it for a while and I want to make sure you’re feeling ok." 

"Once my blood sugar is up a bit more, I’ll be ready to go,” you told him shaking your head. Shooting you a questioning look, he smiled softly. 

“Aren’t you tired?” He asked you with a chuckle. “I’m exhausted.” You knew he wasn’t really all that tired, but rather just didn’t want you exerting yourself after your hypoglycemia. You found it sweet how he took care of you and prioritized your health. He wasn’t overbearing, he didn’t over worry, but he expressed his concern in more subtle ways. Hoseok made you feel safe without making you feel babied, and you appreciated it more than he knew. 

“Ok, yeah, I’m a little tired,” you chuckled. “Give me a few more minutes, I don’t want to walk yet,” you said shyly, feeling bashful at how weak you still felt, suddenly feeling foolish for wanting to continue dancing. 

“Take your time,” he smiled with a small giggle, squeezing your thighs just above your knees. 

After gaining enough strength back, you and Hoseok were preparing to leave, packing up your stuff and making sure the dance studio was put together. “Hobi, can we get froyo on the way home?” You smiled sweetly at him, attempting to convince him. 

“Can your body handle froyo right now?” He chuckled at you. Patting your pouch that held your insulin pens, you grinned. “Thank god for insulin, huh?" 

Hoseok laughed at you, shaking his head in disbelief. "Fine, we can get some froyo.” You squealed in excitement, wrapping your arms around his neck as his came around your waist, lifting you off the ground a bit. “But then we’re going home and relaxing for the rest of the day. That’s the deal,” he told you, trying to sound stern. 

“Deal,” you smiled as he set you back on the ground. Standing on your tippy toes, you pressed a short kiss to his lips. “Love you,” you grinned. 

“Uh huh, love you too,” he smiled at you as he started to gently push you towards the studio door.

Namjoon

You and Namjoon were hanging out in his bedroom at the dorm as you both read your own books. You were both reclined on his bed, Namjoon’s head resting against the headboard as you laid on your back perpendicular to him, your head propped up on the side of your boyfriend’s abdomen. One of Joon’s arms was draped across the top of your chest, the other holding his book open. 

You felt yourself become a bit lightheaded, starting to lose focus on your book, but you tried to ignore it, thinking you were just tired. Eventually it started to click. “Jesus, I’ve read this paragraph like five times now and I have no idea what it says,” you complained to your boyfriend. 

“You feeling ok?” He asked you, his full attention switching from his book to you. 

“I think I’m going hypoglycemic,” you told him, sitting up so your back was to him. Namjoon sat up on his knees, his hands coming to your shoulders to massage them soothingly. 

“Really? You haven’t gone low in so long,” he said more to himself than you. “Where’s your glucose monitor?" 

"In my bag,” you gestured to your backpack across the room. Namjoon was up and off the bed within a second, quickly grabbing your bag and bringing it to the bed, digging around the contents of it until he found the pouch that held your monitor, test strips, and insulin pens. 

“Give me your finger,” he told you gently, to which you held out your pointer finger. Taking an alcohol wipe, he cleaned the surface of your finger pad. then he loaded the lancing device with a lancet. Next, he put a test strip in the monitor. Flashing you a close-mouthed grin, his dimples popping out, making you smile bashfully, he wrapped his hand around yours, and pricked your finger.Squeezing your finger lightly, he positioned the blood onto the test strip. About five seconds passed by before it gave you your reading. “Fuck, babe, 40?” You see, anything under 70 milligrams per deciliter was hypoglycemic, meaning you were pretty fucking hypoglycemic. 

“What?” You asked in shock. “I feel low but I don’t feel that low." 

"Ok,” Namjoon popped up, quickly making his way to his bag that was sat on his desk. You watched him as he pulled out a notebook that looked like it had been used quite a lot. You had seen that notebook before but you couldn’t quite place it. “Let’s see,” he said as he searched the contents of the first page. “Ten to fifteen grams, ah, anything under 50 milligrams per deciliter should be treated with 20 to 30 grams of carbohydrates,” he read out loud to himself. “Do you have any snacks or juice?” He asked you, eyes wide, but with determination rather than concern. 

“Yeah,” you started digging in your bag. “I have some juice,” you pulled out a juice box. 

“Perfect, ok, drink twice as much as you normally would. One cup,” he told you. 

“I know,” you said with a small smile, though you were slightly annoyed. After chugging the drink, you looked at him. “I know how to treat my lows, Joon." 

Namjoon raised his eyebrows at the comment, surprised by the hint of annoyance in your tone. "I know you do, babe." 

"Holy fuck, now my heart is racing, yeah I’m definitely low,” you told him, making him slightly panic, quickly approaching you from across the room, crouching in front of you. 

“Shit, do you need more juice?” He asked you frantically looking from your face to your bag. 

“No, I just need to be patient,” you told him. “The sugar will raise my blood glucose, but it’ll take a bit. I’ll check my blood again in 15 minutes and make sure the juice worked." 

"Right, 15 minutes,” he nodded. “I knew that,” he said to himself. Namjoon’s gaze met yours as you looked at him questioningly. 

“What’s going on, babe?” You asked him, to which he shook his head slightly.

“Come on, talk to me. It’ll help distract me from the low." 

With a sigh, Namjoon placed his hands on the tops of your thighs. "Y/n, I know you can take care of yourself. You’re beyond capable, you do it every day, you’re a rock star at managing this,” he told you. “But I just need to know that I can take care of you too,” he said sadly. “Just in case I ever have to. And I’m sorry if I overstepped or made you feel less capable, but–”

“Joonie, that’s really sweet,” you told him. “I appreciate you caring so much about this.”

“Of course I care, babe. It’s you,” he told you sincerely, his eyes serious yet soft. Namjoon lowered his head to kiss your knee as you ran your fingers through his hair. 

“What’s with the notebook?” You asked him with a confused smile. Heat spread throughout Namjoon’s cheeks as he looked over at the desk where the notebook sat. 

“I keep track of everything there is to know about your diabetes. I write down all the information you tell me. Like what fixes your lows best, what foods make you go hyperglycemic, how much insulin you inject for your basal dose, how much bolus you take, what your correction is. I take notes on your typical symptoms for hypoglycemia and I note how you feel when you’re hyperglycemic. I also take notes at your appointments with your endocrinologist, but you know that. I’ve also done a lot of research on my own just online, searching different medical sites and forums. I just want to know everything I possibly can so I can help you take care of yourself,” he explained shyly, feeling very embarrassed. 

However, you couldn’t see his reddened cheeks through your glistening eyes. “Fuck, Joon,” you laughed a little. “You’re amazing,” you told him as you wiped your eyes. “I love you so much." 

"I love you too, babe,” he sat up a bit to capture your lips in a kiss. “I’m in awe of you every day. I’m so proud of how you handle this disease, and I’m inspired by your strength." 

"Stop,” you whined with a small giggle. “Thank you for caring about me, thank you for loving me,” you told him with a pout. 

“Come here,” he told you as he grabbed the back of your head, pulling your forward a bit as he leaned in to kiss you again. “Are you feeling any better?” He asked you, his breath still hitting your lips, concern in his eyes. 

Nodding, you turned your head a bit to place a soft kiss to the inside of his forearm. “Yeah a little. I’m ok, Joon.” Namjoon nodded in relief. You had about 10 minutes still before you needed to check your blood again, so you decided to pass the time by teasing your sweet boyfriend. “So, really? A whole notebook huh?" 

"Stop,” he grinned fondly.

Jimin

Your relationship with Jimin was still slightly new, only a couple months into it, and he had yet to be with you while you were hypoglycemic. However, as your heart started racing and you started sweating, feeling very hot all of a sudden, you knew the low was coming. As Jimin walked beside you through the park, your hand wrapped up in his, he had no idea what you were suddenly feeling. “Hey, Jimin, can we sit down for a minute?” You asked him, to which he looked at you softly. 

“Of course.” He led you to the park bench a few feet away. Right after you both sat down, you started digging in your bag, searching for your glucose monitor. “Hey, is everything ok?” Jimin asked you tentatively. You had told him about your diabetes, and he had seen you check your blood multiple times, but despite you telling him what hypoglycemia is, he really had no idea what to expect still. 

“Yeah, I just think I might be hypoglycemic, so I’m going to check my blood real quick,” you told him almost nonchalantly. 

“Wait, what? That’s not good, right, hypoglycemic is bad, it sounds bad,” Jimin yelled out in worry, turning his body to face you as he searched your face for answers. 

“Jimin, it’s ok, I’m ok. No hypoglycemia is not good, but I don’t feel very low yet so it’s ok. I’ll just eat some candy and then I’ll be good to go,” you told him with an assuring smile. You quickly checked your blood, which turned out to be 72 mg/dl. “See that’s not bad. Under 70 is considered hypoglycemic. I’m just nearing that point,” you explained to your panicked boyfriend. 

“Ok, so you eat candy now?” He asked you, worry and panic still written across his face. 

Nodding, you dug into your bag to find the baggy full of various candy. “Just a few pieces.” As you popped a hard candy into your mouth, you held the baggy out to Jimin. “Want some?" 

Jimin quickly shook his head. "No, you need that." 

"Jimin, baby, I’m ok I promise,” you told him, reaching for his hand to hold and soothingly run your thumb across the back of it. 

“Ok, I know you are, I trust you, obviously you know what you’re doing,” he told you and himself, nodding his head. “It’s just, you told me if your blood sugar goes too low you could pass out or go into a coma or–”

“I have to be really hypoglycemic for that, baby. And that’s why I pay close attention to how I’m feeling, I check my blood often, and I always have something sugary to take in case I do go low,” you smiled at his worried expression. 

Your boyfriend slowly nodded, taking in all of the info, trying to secure it in his memory. “Ok, so you’re good." 

"Yes, I’m good,” you giggled. 

“Ok, good,” he finally cracked a smile, feeling slightly embarrassed for his moment of panic. “I’m sorry I freaked out,” he giggled bashfully. 

“It’s ok,” you assured him. “It was sweet. It showed you care, which I know you do, but still, it was sweet.”

“I’ll get better at this, I promise,” he laughed at himself, pulling you closer to him so he could wrap his arms around your shoulders in a hug. 

“I know you will,” you smiled, wrapping your arms around his waist.

Taehyung 

When your front door busted open, you immediately knew who it was but that didn’t stop the very brief split second of shock and panic that hit you. 

“Shit, Taehyung,” you clutched your chest. “You’re going to give me a heart attack." 

"Sorry, peaches,” Taehyung apologized as he approached you as you sat on your couch. “How are you feeling?” He asked you, leaning down to place a sweet kiss to your forehead, to which you slightly leaned into. 

“Not great. I just ate a cookie hoping it would bring my blood sugar up but it’s still low,” you told him. 

“What was your last reading?” He asked, his eyebrows pulled together making him appear intimidating. 

“58 milligrams per deciliter,” you told him. “But I ate another cookie and I’m about to take another reading." 

"Ok, good, we’re ok,” he assured you, his eyes softening. “We’ll just see what the next reading says." 

You nodded, groaning. "I just feel so weak, I hate it." 

"I know, Peaches,” Taehyung said gently. He stepped closer to you, threading one hand through your hair as he pulled you towards his body, hugging your head against his hip. You wrapped your arms around his legs. 

“Ok, I need to take another test,” you told him, to which he immediately removed his hand from your hair, instead placing it on your knee as he sat down next to you. Checking your blood sugar, you whined at the reading. Turning the monitor to show your boyfriend, he sighed. 

“60. It hasn’t gone down further so that’s good. Eat another cookie,” he told you. He could tell you were about to protest so he cut you off before you could even start. “I don’t care if your blood sugar goes high later, I don’t like you being low for this long." 

"Fine,” you sighed. Eating another cookie, Taehyung ate one with you, munching on it in pout. He was trying to act normal and calm, and he would have had you fooled it if weren’t for the way he way his gaze followed your every move, tongue and teeth worrying against his bottom lip. 

You both mostly sat in silence for the next 15 minutes as you waited to take another blood glucose test. Taehyung occasionally leaned into you to press a sweet kiss to your neck, just barely whispering “we’re ok” to you. 

When you took the next test and it read as 80 mg/dl, you sighed in relief, a huge boxy grin taking over Taehyung’s face. “I told you we’re ok,” he kissed your cheek.

“Thanks for coming over,” you leaned into him, cuddling up against his side.

“Anytime, Peaches.” Taehyung looked down at you, curled up against him, and he couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed by the love and admiration he had for you. “You know you’re so strong, right?” You hummed in question. “You’re strong and capable. You said you felt weak, and I know that’s because of your low blood sugar, but I also know you hate feeling weak, so I need you to remember that you’re strong. You’re the toughest person I know.”

You smiled into his chest, sighing in content. “Thank you, Dearest. I needed to hear that.”

Jungkook

Jungkook groaned in his sleep, rolling over to cuddle you, not yet awake enough to figure out why he had been woken up from a deep sleep. Nuzzling his face into your neck, his arm draped over your waist, he easily fell back asleep. However, about five minutes later, he was awoken again, this time slumber not so heavy that he could identify the source of the disruption. 

“Baby,” he shook you. “Baby, you ok? Wake up,” he shook you harder.

Groaning in your sleep, you swatted at his hands. “What?” you whined sleepily, keeping your tired eyes shut.

“You’re beeping,” he told you. He was met with another groan from you as you rolled over to grab your continuous glucose monitor to check your blood reading.

“Fuck,” you whined, shoving your face in your pillow, still too tired to deal with your hypoglycemia.

“Low or high?” Jungkook asked you.

With a sigh, you pulled the blankets off your body and began crawling out of bed. “Low.” Stepping onto the floor, you made your way out of the room and into the kitchen to grab some juice. As you opened the fridge door, Jungkook was suddenly at your side, reaching in to grab the carton of juice for you. Walking towards the cupboard, Jungkook softly slapped your butt along the way making you chuckle.

Jungkook poured about half a cup of juice into a glass and handed it to you with a sweet smile. You quickly chugged the drink, and as soon as you were done, Jungkook was taking the glass from you and rinsing it in the sink. “Go sit down,” he gently told you. Just as you sat down on a stool at the kitchen island, Jungkook was at your side, sitting in the seat next to you. “Have you had any fun dreams so far tonight?” He asked you, trying to fill the 15 minutes you had to wait to see if your blood sugar was rising. 

“Yeah,” you yawned.

“Tell me about it,” he requested, wrapping his arm around your waist and kissing your temple just as you rested your head against his shoulder. As you went into the details of your dream, he could hear your voice become more lethargic as you drifted off into sleep, mid-talking.

Jungkook simply listened to your even breaths, enjoying the warmth radiating from your body. He would stay awake for the remaining ten minutes, letting you sleep before he woke you up to make sure your glucose was good so you could go back to your shared bed.

“You amaze me,” he whispered to you as you slept. He was so lost in his thoughts of admiration for you that he didn’t realize your breathing pattern change as you slowly awoke. “I hate that you have to go through this, but you’re so admirable,” he kissed the top of your head. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you whispered through an amused grin. “Now stop being cheesy and let’s go back to bed.”

“You’re good?” He asked with wide doe eyes, his cheeks slightly reddened from the embarrassment of being caught professing his love for you.

“I’m good,” you smiled, standing up and taking his hand to lead him back to bed. “So cheesy,” you teased again, both of you wearing love struck grins as you walked towards your bedroom.

[gravitysanchez-blog]

TOURIST RICK-ED - a sanchez falls au fic

It’s finally done! I admit, I took way too long on this (since, like...last year. lol) but I’m really happy the way it turned out and how I established the base dynamics in this. 

If you’ve never heard of the Sanchez Falls AU, I can’t blame you: check it out here. If you don’t want to deal with the overdescriptive, kind of cringy description, it’s basically a Rick and Morty and Gravity Falls mashup, based off the “Dipper and Mabel” Morty and Morticia easter egg. Enjoy.

Ah, summer break. A time for leisure, relaxation, and new memories. And while I can’t say much for the former two, I can say that speeding down Oregon wilderness driving a golf cart with a puking sister and a mountain of gnomes chasing me definitely applies to new memories. Now, I know at this point you have a lot of questions. I would too, so let me go back a little bit - rest assured, there’s a perfectly logical explanation for this. 

This entire mess began up in Washington, when my mom and dad finally decided to get divorced after seventeen years of arguing. Mom, trying to readjust to a life without my dad, decided we could use some fresh air and time apart from the city. So she sent me, Morty Smith, and my twin sister Morticia down to Oregon to stay with our Great-Uncle Ricardo Sanchez, in a sleepy little town called Gravity Falls. While her and our big sister Summer try to get adjusted in Seattle, me and my sister are going to try to turn our lives around here and have a good time. Oh, and one more thing. There’s a goat on my bed.

“This attic is amazing!” Morticia, in the span of three seconds that we’ve been in the room, is already busy putting up kitten posters on one wall, taking the rickety bed on the right and spilling her yellow and pink clothes all over it. She turns to me while she’s sorting out her dresses and grins. “Although I’m not sure how I feel sharing a room with a dork like you.” She stick her tongue out at me. “Funny, ‘Tish.” Fun fact: one of our many running jokes between us is how much of losers we are. Our only friends are pretty much each other. Morbid, I know.

“So, uh, there’s a goat on my bed,” I said, changing the subject. “Are we not going to address this?”

We both looked over at the goat. It stared back at us with its yellow, beady eyes, sprawled on the comforters as it nibbled on what I supposed was my pillow. We were silent.

“I mean, it’s a little cute,” Tish murmured, sliding off her bed. “Hi, goat friend,” she sung as she wrapped her arms around her neck. It started chomping on her pink sweater. She looked at it. “Uh, okay. You do you, goat friend.” She turned to me. “He’s soft.”

“H-hey kids, what the fuck are you doing up there?”

And that’s my Great-Uncle Ricardo Sanchez. We call him Rick for short. What a guy. He was to transform his house into some tourist trap that he called “The Mystery Shack”. The real mystery was why anybody wanted to come to a tourist attraction in a town with a population of 300 people. But they did, and guess who had to work there.

Tish looked over at the doorway, still hugging the goat. She was a little scared of Rick, I could tell. We both were. He was loud, rude, vulgar, and most of the time drunk. Why my mother had the bright idea that he would be a good guardian for the summer was beyond both of us.

His feet clanked up the stairs, and as he appeared in the doorway with his tie loose, he stared at both of us. “Kids, aren’t you supposed to be taking care of the gift shop?”

“T-t-there’s a goat on my bed.”

He stared down at me, and I swallowed.

“What, Gompers? He’s fine. Fuckin goat does what it wants. Doesn’t hurt anybody.” He pulled a flask from his suit and took a swig. “I’ll take him down if you stop giving me that pathetic look, though. God.”  

I shifted my eyes to the ground. This summer was supposed to be all about good vibes, but what good vibes were we going to get working in a gift shop for an alcoholic uncle?

Tish got up, patting her knees. “I think Gompers likes me.”

“Gompers likes anyone that has something he can eat. W-w-why don’t you take him down, if you like him so much. Your brother can go down and work the gift shop until you’re done. Cuz you know what I like? Money.”

Tish sighed, getting up. “You’re no fun,” she said, but Rick had already stumbled downstairs. I groaned as I got up and followed him. Both of us had been hoping that maybe we could get away from the wreck that was our lives in a completely new place, and actually make something of an awesome summer. So far we’ve got a random goat on my bed and an alcoholic, rude uncle who uses his relatives for free labor. Not adding up very well.

Then, something happened.

It didn’t start off very exciting. Kind of boring.

I was cleaning the gift shop while my sister Tish hid behind the merch shelf, having a mental breakdown peeping at some guy. “He’s so cute! Gosh, I should talk to him, shouldn’t I? Wait, but what if I do something, Morty? What if I mess up an-and trip and he thinks I’m a klutz? What if he thinks my socks are stupid? Oh, jeez, why did I only bring my blue socks this is a disaster, why couldn’t I just have brought white socks like a normal person-”

“Tish, I know you’re going th-through your boy-crazy, teenage-hormones phase, but you’re going a little too far on the crazy part. Calm down. Jeez.” “What?” She rolled her eyes and turned to me. “Come on, Morty, this is our first summer away from home! If I’m going to make this summer worth something, I have to at least have one sweet summer romance.”

Girls. “Yeah, but do you need to obsess over every guy you meet?” Just a couple days ago, she hid behind a huddle of balloons and crushed on the mattress-sale guy. If that wasn’t borderline crazy, I didn’t know what was.

She shrugged. “Mock all you want, Morty, but I got a good feeling about this summer. Great things are going to happen!” She turned to me with a smile. “I wouldn’t be surprised if the guy of my dreams walked through that door right-”

“Morty, Girl Morty!” Rick stomped in, wiping the drool from his chin and adjusting his hat. Trying to look professional, I guess. That’s how he got people. He was incredible at playing the mystic Mr. Mystery and the humble Uncle Rick to our mom. Live with him, and you see his true colors.

Tish slid back over to the counter, watching him as he crossed his arms in the doorway. “Alright, kids, look alive! I need-” he belched “-I need someone to hammer these signs, hammer ‘em in the woods up there. It’ll be great, get in business or whatever.”

“Not it!”

“Not it!” my sister almost shrieked.

“Not it!” Rick’s handyman, Soos, stood up on a ladder behind us hammering in a shelf.

“Soos, nobody-nobody fuckin’ asked you.” He turned away. “Jessica! I need you to put  up these signs.”

Our red-headed cashier of the shack groaned, shifting her feet on the counter. “I mean, I would, Mr. Sanchez, but you know, I’m a small, fragile woman. I can’t handle the woods, I might eaten by a scary bear.”

“J-j-jessica, your family are literally all loggers.”

“Yeah, but I’m a woman-”

“Okay, okay, shut up. Jesus Christ, I would literally, fucking, fire all of you if I could,” he muttered, rubbing his temples. He turned to me suddenly. “Alright, Morty, go put up these signs. You’re, uh, you’re a man. I think.”

“Aw, I’m a man too!” Soos grumbled from his ladder. I wholeheartedly agreed with him. Rick decided to ignore Soos, and shoved the signs into my arms. “Chop-chop, Morty.”

“Oh-oh jeez, Rick, seriously? Those woods are creepy! Every time-every time I go in them, I feel like I’m being, I don’t know, watched, or something.” I almost cringed at Rick’s gaze glaring down at me. I probably did.

Rick rolled his eyes. “Ugh, this again. Look, Morty, I know you’re an anxious, whiny little teenager, but seriously. There’s no monsters or anything “paranormal” in this town. For god’s sake, it’s a bunch of rednecks and-and...country people out here.”

“H-hey, just today, my mosquito bites spelled out ‘Beware’! You...you can’t deny that, Rick!” I put my arm up so he could see, and he squinted down at the words.

“You know, to be fair, I am incredibly drunk right now, but I’m pretty sure that says Bewarb.” I looked down, and to be honest he was right. “You need to calm your tits, Morty.” He straightened up, almost falling backwards. “Li-listen, this whole ‘monsters in the forest’ thing is just local legend, made up so that your Great-Uncle Rick can make a shit ton of money and pay off the mortgage of this dump, alright? So quit being a pussy and put up those goddamn signs.” On that note, he walked out of the shop.

Joy.

“Great-Uncle Rick never takes anything I say seriously,” I grumbled, hammering sings on various trees. Nobody was going to see this stupid things, anyway, and even if someone did, they’d probably be too creeped out to be interested. I swear, sometimes Rick just makes us do these things to be an asshole for fun-

CLANG

Struck out of my thoughts, I stared at the tree in front of me, the nail between my fingers. Cautiously, I took the hammer and struck the nail again, pressing my ear to the bark this time.

CLANG. CLANG.

“...what the hell?”

On the side of my arm, I suddenly noticed a groove in the bark. I dropped my hammer and nail, shoving my fingers into the groove and started wrenching it back. The metal dug into my fingers as I pried it away, falling to the ground with a thud.

There was a mechanical box sitting inside the tree, dials and tubes and switches, all covered in dust and cobwebs in the opening. I sat there for a moment in shock. This was real. Not like the Bewarb thing, not like Rick’s stupid mystery shack. This was something mysterious, something weird.

I flipped a dial. Nothing happened. I flipped it again. Still, nothing happened, I flipped another one. Nothing happened-

“MAAA!”

I jumped, whipping around. Behind me, Gompers the Goat, sweater-and-bed-muncher, jumped away from me and into the woods. I stared at him for a second, before looking where he once was to find a large, gaping hole had appeared.

“What the hell?” I walked up to it, kneeling down and peering inside. I was met with dirt and cobwebs, slinging around the walls leading into an underground box. Inside, there was a large book, covered with more dirt and spiderwebs.

Well, wasn’t that just mysterious.

I dug my hands under the book, cobwebs sticking to my arms, and pulled it out, getting more cobwebs and grime off the book and onto my shirt. It was made of some sort of dyed blue leather, a six fingered hand on the cover with a 3 written in the middle. The whole thing reeked of some fantastical mystery - and mold.

I flipped open the book on the ground, peeling away the rough pages. The title page was torn, “Property of” on the top middle, but cut off. Mysterious. I picked the book up closer to my face and turned the page.

June 18 - it’s hard to believe it’s been six years since I started investigating the strange and wondrous secrets of Gravity Falls - I looked back up. This had to be a joke, right? I mean, yeah, the bewarb thing was a little weird, and certainly a mechanical tree isn’t normal at all, but seriously? This was too unreal. Great-Uncle Rick just said it was all a scam. Rick also might have been too drunk to really notice anything substantial, though.

I couldn’t stop flipping through the book, my mind nearly blown with drawings and descriptions of cool and creepy monsters - Floating Eyeballs, Giant Vampire Bats (fun!), gnomes, cursed doors. Each page was a whole new crazy thing.

I kept mindlessly flipping, taking it all in. It had to be true, I thought. Why would someone go out of their way to hide all of this? Not to mention write it. I kept flipping, until my eyes caught something large and bolded, scratched in the middle of a page. TRUST NO ONE “Unfortunately, my suspicions have been confirmed. I’m being watched by that son of a bitch! I have to hide this book before he finds it. Remember, in Gravity Falls, there is no one you can trust.” What? “No one you can trust?” Absently, I closed the book. What did he mean, he was being watched? Who was “he”? At first, this seemed cool, but everything was starting to get a little more scarier…

“Morty! There you are!”

“Ah!” I dropped the book, whipping around to see Tish right behind me, leaning on a stump. “Thank god, I just escaped Rick and was looking for you. So what about this “no one you can trust” thing you said to yourself in the middle of the woods?”

“Uh…” I shoved the book with my foot under a log. “Ah, i-i-i-it’s nothing! D-d-do-don’t worry about it. Just, you know. Uh. Me.” I grinned.

She folded her arms, looking over my shoulder. “Wow, didn’t expect you to take that so seriously. Did you just push a book under that log? What are you hiding?”

“Tish!” I looked around. The goat was back, and had pulled the book under the log. He was chewing happily on the cover. “I’ll...I’ll show you. Can we go somewhere private?”

Back in the shack, I paced the living room. “Tish, it’s insane! Rick said I was being paranoid, but according to this book I found in the woods, Gravity Falls has this totally cool, awesome, kind of scary dark side!” I flipped to the Floating Eyes page, showing it to her. “Look at this, Tish!”

“What? You’re kidding me, right? This is a joke.”

I paced around again. “No, I’m not joking. But get this, Tish. At some point, the pages just, like, stop. Like the guy who was writing it mysteriously disappeared. There’s even this page where the author says something about someone watching him and having to hide the books, and it’s just all...crazy!” This was not what I was expecting this summer, but even though it was pretty scary this was much better than any boring summer working for an alcoholic great uncle.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang, loud and clear. “Who is that?” Who would be visiting Rick? The bartender? Who could even stand to be around him and know him personally for even five minutes? “Well,” Tish looked down, wringing her hands and grinning. “I might...I might have got a date.”

What.

“Let me get this straight. You, the other socially awkward half of me,who has no friends and can barely talk to a guy without tripping over her own shoes, and is worried about the color of her socks got a boyfriend in the half-hour that I was gone? You’ve never had a boyfriend in your life!”

Tish fell back on Rick’s easy chair. “What can I say, brother? I guess it’s just...summer lovin’ up in the air!”

“Tish, please never say that again.”

The doorbell rang again, and Tish sprang up, running a hand over her hair. Flashes of anxiety and excitement were clear on her face. “Uh, c-c-coming!”

Joy. I sat up on the couch, crouching over the book. Honestly, who cared about Tish’s new boyfriend? And her expanding social life that apparently was going a lot better than mine? Because of this book, I was having one of the most exciting days of my life. Eye-bats!

“W-w-what’cha reading there, buddy?”

Quickly, I shoved the book out of site. “Uhh, just, uh, just, ca-catching up on-” I grabbed a magazine from the side table and read the cover - “uh, Playboy for Silver Foxes?” Immediately, I regretted being born as my eyes hit a forty year old woman strip teasing on the cover. I wanted to drench my face in bleach.

His unibrow raised up at me in suspicion, but he shrugged it off as he pulled his flask out of his back pocket and took a swig. “Although I’d like to know how those got out of my room.”

Oh, jeez. “H-hey, I-”

“Hi, Grunkle - uh, Great-Uncle Rick, Morty. This is-this is my new boyfriend!” Mabel popped in the doorway, discreetly trying to hide the sweat coming down her forehead, grinning widely as she pulled someone’s arm from the hallway. The guy that immediately popped in looked like some of the emo kids from school - dark hoodie, crazy eyeliner, creepy glare.

“Sup,” said the emo dude.

“Uh, hi.”

“We met at a graveyard, and omigosh he was so poetic and deep it was so beautiful-” Tish started gushing as she clung onto his arm, looking up at him. “Is...is that muscle?” She looked back at me with a grin.

Rick stared back at the guy, his unibrow raised. “So, uh...how you doing?”

The guy’s eyes seized up as they started darting around the room. “Uh...uh...norm-normal!” he nearly shrieked. “Normal...man!” Rick stayed silent as he stared at the guy, taking another swig from his flask.

“Good for you, buddy.”

“H-h-he means Norman,” Tish said dreamily, leaning into him. “That’s his name.”

Rick looked at me. For once, I had to agree with the crazy son of a bitch - this was weird.

“So...uh,” Norman took a step back, and Tish nearly stumbled. “Do you, uh, wanna, go and uh, hold hands or something?”

“Oh, that would be amazing,” Tish murmured, leaning into him more than I thought possible and dreamily taking his hand.

Rick rolled his eyes, flopping next to me on the couch. “Oh my god, shut up already. Jesus Christ, you’re going to make me sick.” He picked up the remote and started flipping channels. “Don’t you two have a date or something?”

“Oh, silly me!” Tish started dragging Norman out of the hallway. “I’ll see you guys tonight!”

As they left, Rick leaned over to me. “Morty, if you take anything from me, do yourself a favor and don’t get wrapped up in that shit. Focus on money. It’ll get you a lot farther than that pointless, annoying crap.”

Says the man with Playboy for Silver Foxes, I though. I decided to ignore that, though. Norman was the main thing on my mind right now, and he was just way too creepy and weird for me to get my mind off of him. No wonder Tish got a boyfriend, if that was the selection. “So, uh, Rick, w-what did you think of Norman.”

“Morty, do you honestly think I actually give a shit?” He straightened up, flipping channels again. “All that shit is to me is annoying garbage that never did anyone any good. Now, what isn’t garbage,” he turned and grinned to me, putting down the remote, “is reality television, Morty. At least it gives you pleasure in your day with no bullshit.”

The TV, in front of me, was portraying an episode of National Geographic, far from reality TV. A mother tiger was taking care of her young.

I got up, discreetly hiding the journal under my shirt and shuffling to the other room. “Uh, okay, Rick. You do that”

“Damn right I will, Morty!” he shouted out before I left.

In the other attic, I curled up on the corner of the wall, flipping through pages. “More eye-bats, gnomes, gnomes…” Suddenly, my eye caught on a page. “Zombies? Those actually exist?” I curled up tighter, hunching over and bringing my eyes to the page.

Known for their pale skin and bad attitudes these creatures are often mistaken for…”Teenagers?” I looked down at the illustration, and the eyes of the creature bored into me as Norman’s did, and I swore I could hear Norman’s voice come out of the drawing.

Norman was a zombie! It all made sense!

It was then that I realized Norman’s voice wasn’t coming from the illustration - it was coming from outside.

I scrambled to the window, hanging on the sill and watching in horror as Tish sat on the bench outside, giggling. Before her, Norman was stumbling towards her, arms outstretched, ready to take my sister in his jaws and rip apart her brains, and my sister was unaware that she was about to die by a zombie, and I had to do something, I had to warn her before it was too late-

“Mabel, watch out!” I shrieked, slamming my palm again the window. He put his hands on her neck. “Mabel, NO-”

He took his hands away, revealing a new daisy chain around her neck. I could see her face light up as she giggled away, batting her eyelashes at him. Okay, so he didn’t eat her brains. Zombies weren’t even real! I looked down at the book. This stupid thing was probably written as a joke or a prank.

But was it?

“Is my sister dating a zombie, or am I just going crazy?” I asked myself.

Behind me, a voice rang out. “It sure is a dilemma.”

I turned around, greeted by a familiar face. “Soos? What are you doing here?”

Soos was on a ladder again, screwing in a lightbulb. “Avoiding Rick. He’s in a bad mood right now, dude. Probably because of your sister’s date. He has a bad history with women. Anyway, I couldn’t help but overhear you talkin’ to yourself in this empty room while I was here.”

I turned my back against the window. “Honestly, Soos, how do you even stand Rick?”

Soos shrugged, getting off the ladder. “Rick’s not a totally bad guy. He’s a jerk, but not a bad guy. We have a little bit of history together, I guess. It’s a long story, dude.”

“It’s going to take a while before I believe that.” I looked back down at the book. “But, Soos, do you think Tish’s new boyfriend might be a zombie?”

Soos shrugged. “I don’t know, dude, but there’s a lot of weird things in this town. I wouldn’t doubt it. I mean, dude, the mailman has got to be a werewolf with how hairy he is. I’d say you should follow the guy and see if he eats any brains.”

For someone who says “dude” a lot more than ever should be used, he had a point. I got up. “Good point, Soos. Time to go investigating, I guess.”

So that’s how I spent my afternoon - creeping in the shadows and watching my sister go on her date with Norman. I know, I know it sounds weird and creepy, but I needed to see if this guy was really a zombie. This book might be just a prank, but it also might not. I mean, what if he did eventually try to eat my sister’s brains? That would so ruin my summer.

However, at the end of the day, I just felt stupid. I had found absolutely nothing to prove that Norman was a zombie, though I had taken ten thousand photos and videos of them. Sitting in the other attic, watching the video of them watching the sun, I groaned. I was a stupid, nervous wreck. Why did I even believe anything from some stupid book, I wondered, as I watched Norman reattach his fallen-off arm and readjust it around my sister’s shoulders.

Wait, what?

Quickly, I rewound the video. Sure enough, I witnessed my sister’s boyfriend’s arm fall off his shoulder, him look around warily before he reattached it before my sister noticed.

I was right. Norman was a zombie. Cold dread sunk into my chest. I had to do something, save her before it was too late.

“So, uh...now that we’ve been together for so long, and uh...got to know each other, there’s something I should tell you.”

Morticia and Norman were enjoying the view of the valley when Norman spoke. The girl, shook out of her love-stricken daydreams, turned towards him. A guy with secrets? That was hot. And a guy who trusted her with these secrets? This was turning out way better than she expected. She better not mess this up.

Morticia leaned towards him. “Y-y-you can tell me any-anything, Norman.” As soon as the words left her, she cringed. She hated it when her stuttering took over, and hated the fact that it usually came up the worst around someone that wasn’t her family. She was perfectly fine around Morty and her sister Summer - hell, even Rick sometimes, but one stranger could leave her a mess. She probably looked like an idiot, Norman would see she was just some loser-

“You see, I’m uh, not who you think I am,: he said, turning his head away as he stood up, fiddling with his jacket zipper. “Do you think you would still like me if, I, uh, was...different?”

Oh, jeez. THis was the part where he revealed his dark yet romantic secrets to her. Morticia was almost frozen by everything writhing through her head. Out of all the misery she faced with guys at school, this was her breakthrough, she had done it, now all she had to do was not fuck this up, she could shove his beautiful face into those cheerleading girls who called her an ugly loser-

“Morticia?”

She was struck out of her thoughts as she noticed Norman staring intently at her, his hair blowing slightly in the breeze. Shit, she had zoned out. “Y-y-yeah, sorry, sorry!” she sputtered, scrambling up. “Of course, you-you can tell me anything, Norman!”

He stared at her for what seemed like an hour. She had begun to sweat again. Oh, she had really done it this time, fucking hell-

He shrugged, and with a quick motion he unzipped his jacket to reveal...what?

She stared as his body came apart as his jacket fell off his shoulder, disassembling to reveal five or six stacked little men, with flannel and lumberjack beards and pointy hats, all grinning up at her, and she was face-to-face with them. “Surprise, we’re gnomes!” The top one cheered up at her.

Well, this certainly wasn’t the twist she was expecting, and this certainly wasn’t romantic or hot. What the hell kind of prank was this?

She sat there, frozen yet again, as the top gnome jumped down onto a log and looked up at her. “Look, here’s the thing. Our gnome queen just died, and we need a new one. You’re the perfect woman, Morticia, and we all love you. So what do you say, babe? Do you wanna marry this hot hunk and become the new gnome queen, loved by all?” As he said this, he nudged her with his elbow, tapping her hip.

All of a sudden, she wanted to run and hide in her room under her pile of sweaters and blankets. She started to back away, rubbing her arms. “LIsten, t-that’s really sweet, sweet of you guys, but, uh, I should...get back home. I don’t think this is going to work.” She turned away.

A sigh came from behind her. “I thought you might say that,” the gnome said from behind her. “Which is why we’re going to kidnap you.”

Wait, what, no-

“TISH!”

The forest around me was a blur as I bounced over logs and sticks and shrubs in the Mystery Shack golf cart, I had to find Tish, god knows what could have happened by now, she could have already been eaten, her guts spread out over a rock and Norman hunched over eating her brains, I could already be too late- “TISH! TISH!”

“MORTY!”

I stopped. “TISH, WHERE ARE YOU?” I screamed out. God, I wasn’t too late, hopefully, she hadn’t had her brains eaten yet, maybe Norman was about to crack her skull before she heard me-

“MORTY, HELP! OVER HERE!”

The yell came from my right, behind a clump of bushes and trees. I slammed on the gas pedal and shot forward, breaking sticks and branches. “Tish!” All around me, fir branches were splitting cuts into my face and arms, the cart bouncing over the debri-

As I came into a clearing, bursting out of a bush, I suddenly had to stop. When I was driving in, I had expected to see a brain-hungry Norman chasing after Tish. Instead...she was tied up and pinned to the ground with a wedding tiara on, surrounding by a crowd of tiny lumberjack men filling up the clearing. One was next to my sister Tish with a wedding ring on. “We’re trying to have a ceremony here, excuse you!” he shouted angrily at me.

I got out of the cart. “Uh, Tish, what’s going on?”

She shifted her eyes away. “Apparently Norman just ended up being a bunch of gnome jerks. They kidnapped me to enslave me as their queen or something.”

The gnome with the wedding ring in his hand laughed. “Darling, sweetie pie, don’t be so dramatic. You’re not in danger or anything, you’re just going to marry all one thousand of us for all eternity! Is that really that terrible?” Gnomes? All this time I thought Norman was a zombie, but all this time he was actually a bunch of gnomes? I grabbed the journal from my vest and flipped through it. I still didn’t understand how Norman was a bunch of gnomes, but on the plus side gnomes shouldn’t be that dangerous, right? I landed on the gnome page I saw earlier, my eyes skimming the text. “Weaknesses…”

Weaknesses: NONE

They were two feet tall, and they had no weaknesses? I looked up and stared at them. No way. There was no freaking way they were indestructible. “L-listen, you-you jerks! Let my sister go!”

The gnome laughed again, his hands on his hips. “Listen, listen, kid. We’re not going to do that. We need a queen, boy, and there’s nothing you can do to stop us! We’re a powerful race, what do you think you could do-”

CLUNK

He flopped over as I slammed the back of a shovel against his head. Thank god it had been in the back of the golf cart. I raised my weapon up, kneeling towards Tish and pulling up the ties. “Anyone wanna piece of this?”

As she scrambled up and we raced towards the cart, the gnomes started chasing towards us, waving sticks and fists. “That’s our queen! You can’t get away with her!” Tish looked back at me with a terrified look. She threw herself in the passenger seat, pulling me up to the drivers as they clambered towards us. “Go, go, Morty!”

I slammed on the gas, and we speeded off to leave the crowd of two-feet tall men in the dust. Weakness: speed. “Later, suckers!” I yelled, a rush of adrenaline going through me.

I refocused back towards the road. “I knew something was up with those guys! There was just no way you could have gotten a boyfriend that fast. I went and looked it up in the journal, and I thought he was a zombie at first, but dang, gnomes-”

“Yeah, I get it!” Tish shrieked. “Just drive!” She was turned around facing the back of the cart, and I noticed the terrified look on her face. “Shit, Morty, ju-just drive! I think they did a Voltron and made one huge, giant gnome!”

I slammed on the gas, taking a quick look behind me and she was right - I watched in horror as the gnomes climbed upon themselves in the thousands until they blocked the sun, am menacing, horrifying mass of gnomes. The thing started running towards us, the vibrations rattling the cart, getting closer and closer shit shit shit holy fuck oh jeez we’re going to die - Tish grabbed my arm. “Morty, they’re-they’re getting closer!”

I turned back towards the road. “I know!”

She was silent for a second, then “Morty-”

“I know-!”

“-MORTY, behind you!”

I got thrown against the steering wheel as a huge weight fell on my back, almost slamming my head against the dashboard. “They’re catapulting the gnomes, you idiot!” she screeched.

I reached behind me and grabbed the gnome off my back, throwing him and whacked him against the horn as he latched onto my arm, his grimy teeth chewing on my skin - jeez get off my goddamn body what the hell - until with a final smack he screeched and tumbled out of the cart, rolling in the dust like a rock. Suddenly, I couldn’t see as a gnome head took over my vision, his little gnome claws scratching my cheeks - “TISH!” - my head was thrown back into the seat with a forceful thwack. The gnome fell off, bouncing off my lap, Tish’s fists balled.

“Tish, did you just punch my face?”

“How else am I going to get the thing off?” she yelled, fingers gripping the seat as she looked behind her. Suddenly, her face went white. “Morty, look!”

I looked behind me again - at this point, if the forces that be seemed to want to obstruct my view of driving with all their power, then so be it. The monster had its hands - or gnome clusters, whatever - gripped onto a pine tree, and throwing itself back I heard the roots snap as the tree was yanked out of the ground. “He’s going to throw it at us!” Tish shrieked, ducking.

I watched, frozen in fear, as the gnome monster threw his arm back, slamming his foot against the ground and flung his arm forward. The tree was coming towards us like a rocket, my heart jumped as I saw the thing fly over us - it was going to hit the ground and block the road in front of us, we would be trapped -

I gripped the steering wheel. “Hold on!” I twisted the wheel to the right and slammed my body against Tish’s to the edge. She screamed in my ear when, with one hand holding her and the other holding the steering wheel, we flipped sideways under the falling tree. I could hear the branches slapping the side of the cart, one poking my leg as we sailed under the hulking mass plummeting on us. The bark caught on the end of the cart as we slid through, an awful SCREECH filling the air. My heart hurt as it pounded against my chest, jumping off my ribcage as the tree THWOMPED to the ground three feet behind us.

The side of the car slammed on the ground, and me and Tish collapsed on the dirt. “Oh my god,” breathed Tish.

We stilled as the vibrations of the monster got closer, rumbling. I looked up, and there it was - the completely terrifying, towering, giant pile of gnomes, the sun blaring behind its head. Tish shoved me off of her. “I’ll deal with this. Just stay here,” she muttered, hoisting herself over the side of the cart.

I climbed out after her. “Tish, you’re not going to handle it by yourself!”

She kept walking towards the monster, her fists clenched. “Go away, Morty!” “What the hell, Tish?” I got up and brushed the front of my jeans. “I get it, I imagine the whole gnome thing was pretty traumatizing, but I just saved your life. Why are you acting all pissy at me?”

“I’m fine, Morty!”

“Don’t give me that, Tish! What the hell is going on?”

Tish turned around and looked at me, her eyes glittering as she bit her lip. “You want to know what’s going on, Morty? You just saved me from the big bad monster, you’re right! All because your sister Tish-” her shoulders started shaking “is too god-goddamn of a loser to ever find anyone decent! I get it, whenever I even try I’ll just get punished for, for stepping out my boundaries.” She looked down. “I get it. My first boyfriend, and he’s a clan of gnomes. That’s what people like me deserve. I get it. Y-you don’t need to rub it in.”

“Tish-”

She started walking away again. “Morty, just leave me alone!”

I ran up to her and grabbed her shoulder. “Tish, if you think you deserve that you’re an idiot. Just because the cheer team and the jocks think we’re losers-”

“-and the whole school.”

“So? Who cares what a bunch of stupid teenagers think about us, Tish? You’re not a loser. You’re like, the most pure-hearted and good person I know. God, Tish, the only way I’m dealing with this divorce is because I have you. You deserve so much better than anyone at our stupid mess of a school, and certainly a lot better than that…” I looked back up at the lumbering giant gnome-pile lumbering towards us, “...thing.” That was going to have be dealt with soon.

Tish looked at me, her eyes narrowed. She wiped her cheek. ‘“Y-you’re not just saying that, because I’m your sister?”

I hugged her. “W-well, of course I am. but anyone who doesn’t realize the same thing is an idiot, Tish. You’re great.”

Tish looked back up at the monster, coming closer. “Thanks, Morty. But, uh, what are we going to do about that?”

“What, didn’t you have a plan?”

Tish looked at me. “No, of course not. I’m a teenage girl being angsty, I’m not thinking about how to stop a monster. I have like, self esteem issues.”

I looked behind us, separating the hug. The monster was still pounding towards us, the gnome components screaming in battle fury. “I’ve got you kids now!” one of them shrieked. The shrieker held the ring in his tiny fist, waving it in the air. “My beautiful bride, you will finally be back with us in your rightful place…” his voice dropped suddenly.

“Oh, shit-sHIT GUYS RUN BACK RUN BACK-”

A white light exploded from underneath the gnome monster, throwing the gnomes into the air. Me and Tish winced as we heard their shrieks and various thumps on the ground. Suddenly, another BOOM ricocheted through the air, and we ran back as fire and brimstone ripped in a neat circle around the property.

I grabbed Tish’s hand and started backing off. She turned to me. “What the hell?”

“Hey, dumbasses! Be careful of the mines, goddammit!” A slurred yell came from the shack.

Tish turned to me. “Did….”

I stared out at the scattered, fleeing crowd of gnomes. “I can’t believe Rick put a line of mines around the Shack.”

Tish snorted. “This is Rick we’re talking about here. Are you really that surprised?”

“Honestly, however Mom decided that this man was good enough to take of two teenagers is beyond me.”

Later, Tish and I were strolling the gift shop, Rick counting the money in the cash register. “Sorry for-for setting off your, uh, mines, Grunkle Rick.”

He looked at her. “What did you call me?”

Tish glanced over at me, and I was surprised to see a glint in her eye. “Grunkle Rick. It’s like Great Uncle mashed together. Grunkle. He stared at her for a second with a expression mixed with either confusion or disdain - I couldn’t tell. After a few seconds, he shrugged and looked back down to counting money. “Whatever. Mines were set there to blow up anyway.” He looked back up at us. “You know, if you want something from the gift shop, you can have it, right?”

Tish, who looked to be holding something in her hands, looked over. “Wait, really?”

He shrugged. “Sure.”

She looked over at me, a confused expression at me. I put my hands up. Why Rick was deciding to be nice was beyond me. Maybe somewhere in that skinny, old bastard, there really is someone decent.

She grinned, spinning around. “Uh, Gru-Grunkle Rick, I found this, I found this grappling hook!”

He sighed, leaning into his hand. “Fine. Don’t break anything.”

I looked down at my right. Beside me were a set of baseball caps with pine trees on them - Oregon sure puts a lot of pride in their trees. On my other side, Tish was sliding herself against one of the shelfs, grinning as she held her grappling hook. It seemed maybe the gnome experience made her feel a little more confident about this place. That it wasn’t going to turn into a giant shithole, that maybe we could have one good summer.

I looked back down at the caps.

Well, Oregon, with your gnomes and your pine trees, show me what you got.

[fapangel]

I can’t WAIT to cover this Trump Jr. Thing because the lefties are pissing themselves like an excited chinchilla and its just so *precious* III We both know how short, murky, and 'he-said-she-said' the anti-Trump evidence has been, so when one of the few folks Big T trusts outright says he'd love to have an enemy of the US support the campaign with secrets on Hilary... you can see why they'd be excited. What Trump Jr. did by even replying positively to that message was High Quality Stupidity.

So before anything else, let’s take a long momentto enjoy that hysterical chinchilla-pissing, starting with thecomments in my own inbox:

Drumpf has only three options here. Disown hisson and send him on an all-expenses paid trip to NSGB, step down, orget impeached.

(BBC)world-us-canada-40571914 Welp. Donald’s son just screwed himself andhis dad over big time. Meeting someone described as a Russiangovernment official to get dirt on Hillary. And, well, “part ofRussia and its government’s support for Mr Trump”. Ruse or not,the intent from the campaign’s side is clear, and motive goes a longway in an investigation and court. Seems like the best thing to dowould be to throw Goldstone, and maybe Jr., to the investigators anddeny Trump had any awareness?

Now for The Left: After their hysterical, rabidpersecution of Trump failed to turn up anything formonths on end, theiranti-Russian obsession has reached “McCarthy” levels of paranoia(oh, the irony,) soplacing Trump Jr. in the same roomas a living Russian person from Russia fortwenty entire minuteshas them stroking off sofuriously it’s a wonder they haven’t given newly literal meaning to“liar liar pants on fire” yet. TimKaine, Rep.Seth Moulton (D-Mass), thereliably retarded NewYork Timesand theusual sniping from the never-Trump neocon camp are all calling ittreason. That’s aclaim so moronic that Salon.com (yes, Salon) hasan article pointing it out beforehurriedly burying the “vast right-wing collusion conspiracynarrative” theirown site’s been pushingwith the old “all Republicans are morons” line like a wee dogfuriously kicking sand over its scat. Meanwhile, CNN is once again ina class of its own - not because of their hysteria but becausethey’re nowreporting on what their right-wing news competitors are saying:

Raheem Kassam, editor-in-chief of BreitbartLondon, reacted to the story of Donald Trump Jr.’s newly-releasedemails in a way that wouldn’t typically be expected from someone atthe far-right outfit, which is a reliable supporter of PresidentTrump.

“So like, this is straight up collusion,”he wrote in the news outlet’s internal Slack, according to atranscript of the conversation obtained by CNN. “Right?”

Yes. Somehow, CNN knows what Brietbart is sayingon their own fucking internal Slack account. I guess hacking is okaywith CNN when they’re doing it - that is, assuming they’re not justmaking shit up again. But the best lines in that “coverage of thecoverage” were these:

Fox News’ first response was relative silence.While CNN and MSNBC went into full coverage on the story, Fox Newsonly briefly visited the topic before moving on to other news, thenreturning to it later.

Eventually, as the story developed, Fox beganto cover the revelations more aggressively. But the network neverwent into non-stop breaking news coverage as CNNand MSNBC did.

Non-stop, indeed. Given that thefacts can be related in literally 23 words (shady Russian lobbyistscores meeting by promising Trump Jr. Hillary dirt, babbles aboutadoption treaties for twenty minutes before being shown the door,) weall know that it was the same as CNN’s usual “non-stop breakingnews coverage” of anything:

But not that fucking Fox News, oh no! Theyreported the facts,and then moved on and came back later,afterthey’d found more facts,toreport those. Andthey call themselves journalists.Tsk.Therealjournalists are hunting down everyonewho was standing in the room,everyone who might have possibly known someone standing in the room,andlabeling them “mastersof the dark arts.” That is not a joke. That is the actualfucking headline. YERA WIZARD, DONNY! THE VODKA DRINKERSARE COMIN FOR YA! Finally,an immigrant the Democrats don’t like. Maybe extreme vetting would’vefound his DarkMarktattoo in time, eh? Or maybe the Azkabanstamp in his passport? Isthat a wand in yer pocket or do you have Hillary’s e-mails for me? Oh, man. But the absolute bestpart of all this is how they’re pawing at everyone’s shins andwhining and spinning little circles because nobody else wants to play- theWaPo is whining about how Trump’s still bullying them as Fake Newsand CNN’s whiningabout those damn pro-Trump media outlets doubting the meeting evenhappened. How can they keep getting away with it? Maybe becausethe mainstream media is sodistrusted nowthat morethan half of Trump’s supporters don’t even believe the meetinghappened, despite Trump Jr. verifying it andreleasinghis e-mails about it.

Allof this - all the tail-chasing, frenzied yapping and excitedurination - is absolutely hilarious,becauseit all amounts to fucking nothing.If Vladamir Putin himself had been lowered from the sky by a chorusof singing angels, moonwalkedto the top floor of Trump Tower and handed Trump all of Hillary’ssecrets engraved on sacred stone tablets, it’d still amount to jackshit.It’sthe same basic fact that’s undermined the left’s vague “collusion”narrative from the beginning - itdoesn’t matter one damn bit who dug up Hillary’s misdeeds in theelection, because theevidence proves it’s true. Hillarywas damaged by her owncampaign’s internal e-mails - youknow, the bald and unvarnished truth of a fawningmedia’s collusion, solicitations of multimillion dollar campaigndonations from the heads of foreign governments and what Democratsreally think of minority voters. 1 + 1 still equals 2 even ifHitler’s the one drawing it on the blackboard. That’s precisely whythe left has relied on constant dark rumor-mongering using a specificscary word, “collusion,” that connotes all manner of shadydealing and wicked deals on the docks at midnight - even though“collusion”literally isn’t a crime. In other words, Robert Mueller - whomeven WaPo admits is trapped in a rad bromance with Comey, andwho’s staffing his Special Probe withlawyers that donated almost exclusively to Democrats -literally has nothing to investigate. Buteven the court of public opinion can’t convict, because no matter howyou look at it, standing in the same room as two Russians for 20minutes isn’t collusion.

Thedefinition of collusion, accordingto Merriam-Webster, is “secret agreement orcooperation especially for an illegal or deceitful purpose.”Note the agreementor co-operation bit. Assenior CNN producer John Bonifield was caughton tape openly admitting, it’s common knowledge that governmentsare alwaystrying to influence politics - and even elections - in othercountries. After all, aCongressional investigation found that Obama’s State Department gavehundreds of thousands of dollars in grants to an Israeli advocacygroup trying to oust Prime Minister Netanyahu (who refused tokiss Obama’s ass on the Iran nuclear deal,) so it’s not a bigsurprise or anything. Nor is meeting with agents of a foreigngovernment, considering that a Ukrainian-American Democratic NationalCommittee operative was caught meeting with theUkrainian embassy in Washington to try and sabotage Trump. Thepredictable justifications (Ukrainians are the Good Guys and Russiaare the Bad Guys) ignore that Ukraine is a big,ugly, corrupt mess, and that the pro-Russian rebels that Putin’spretending his regular Russian army units are actually doexist (just not nearlyin those numbers) and that the Russian intelligence services - andcrony capitalism oligarchy - doubtlessly have tentacles everywhere inthe beleaguered nation. Afterall, left-wingers were whining about Trump’scampaign manager Manafort meeting with Ukrainian businessmen, anda senior Democratic PAC adviser was attacking Scott Walker forreceivingdonations from a “pro-PutinUkrainian businessman,” so clearly they’re not above suspicion- according to theexact same people who were chumming with them, at least!

Lefties havealways known this all amounts to jack diddly shit, which is whythey’ve been using the word collusion,specifically. As I’vesaid before, the way the media get onto the same page - nay, theexact same buzzword, nighinstantly, is never an accident. “Collusion”by definition means “agreement or co-operation.”Governments influencingothers elections by slipping favored candidates tips on theiropponents dirty laundry is nothing new. Governmentsaiding one campaign in return for agreed-upon favors at a later dateis another. Democratsare alleging that Trump and co. sold out to the Russians, so nowthey’re in Putin’s pocket. Thatwas the point of the lurid fanfiction document about Russian hookerspissing on Trump, to allege that he was “vulnerableto Russian blackmail,” and that’s why Democratsand the US intelligence community deliberately spread that pack oflaughable lies around. And they knowthisisan impossibly ludicrous thing to sell, which is why they keeprepeating vague ominous nothings about “collusion” and keepreporting on everything Trump does in the context of the imaginary“ominous cloud” they’ve industriously created themselves for the express intent of throwing shade.

I delayed this post for a bit just to collect morecommentary in my inbox - and not just because it was hilarious(DRUMPF BLOWN OUT ZOMG LOL) but because I hoped it’d be revealing.And indeed it was: consider this one again: 

And, well, “part of Russia and itsgovernment’s support for Mr Trump”. Ruse or not, the intent fromthe campaign’s side is clear, and motive goes a long way in aninvestigation and court.

Every single news story I’ve seen on it havequoted almost those exact lines - the Russian’s email proclaiming hispotential offer as “part of Russia and its government’s support,”and Trump Jr’s skeptical approval, “if it’s what you say it is, Ilove it.” This is what they’re trying to spin as “intent tocollude.”

So how about wereadthe actual goddamn emails, eh?

On Jun 3, 2016, at 10:36 AM, Rob Goldstonewrote:

Good morning

Emin just called and asked me to contact youwith something very interesting.

The Crown prosecutor of Russia met withhis father Aras this morning and in their meeting offered toprovide the Trump campaign with some official documents andinformation that would incriminate Hillary and her dealings withRussia and would be very useful to your father.

This is obviously very high level and sensitiveinformation but is part of Russia and its government’s support forMr. Trump - helped along by Aras and Emin.

What do you think is the best way to handlethis information and would you be able to speak to Emin about itdirectly?

I can also send this info to your father viaRhona, but it is ultra sensitive so wanted to send to you first.

Best

Rob Goldstone

There it is, inas many words - an offerto expose Hillary’s shady connections with “Russia.” That’san outright offer to provide dirt - and as LizPeek points out, this offer came shortly after the book “ClintonCash” was published, which exposed a shit-ton of the ClintonFoundation’s lucrative dealings with Russian businessmen. Even theHillaryapologists at politifact couldn’t deny that Bill Clinton receiveda half millionfucking dollar speaking fee forgiving a speech - from a Russian investment bank calledRenaissance Capital which isvery, very much tight with the Kremlin:

Personal connections and a commitment to Russiahave proved critical to Renaissance. Jennings and other execs got toknow many junior officials in the early 1990s who have risen tosenior positions in the Kremlin and at the central bank. RenaissanceDeputy Chairman Robert Foresman has advised state-owned Gazprom,giving him access to Prime Minister Vladimir Putin’s inner circle.At a Renaissance investor conference in June speakers includedFinance Minister Alexei Kudrin and Arkady Dvorkovich, aide to RussianPresident Dmitry Medvedev.

Andlet’s not forget Sergei Magnitsky, a Russan lawyer whofingered Renaissance Capital as part of a massive government-involvedtax fraud scheme, was arrested by said government, then murdered inprison to keep him silent. These guys are dirty as hell.

Nospeech, not even from God himself, is worth a half-millionfucking dollars a pop. That’sa hefty ass-kissing “donation”, any way you look at it - and beforeHillary became Secretary of State, Bill pulled down that half-miljust twice. After she became SecState, he got a half-mill forspeeches eleventimes.

Anddid I mention that Bill wasbeing paid a half-million dollars for fucking nothing around the sametime Hillary was pushing for approval for Russiato buy a controlling interest in Uranium One, one of the largesturanium mines in America?

Nowconsider that - given Russia’s crony capitalism/mafia stylegovernment (as exemplified by Renaissance Capital’s tight ties withthe Kremlin) and the constant murder of journalists or anyone elsewho could spill the details on these things (including Magnitskyhimself,) the only people who wouldhave this informationwould be “The Russian Government.” That’sexactly why the email offer mentioned it - it was mandatory to bebait the hook.

Andthis is why the media have very, very carefully omitted that lineabout Hillary’sconnections with Russia, andexactly why Trump Jr. tweeted out the emails himself - becauseit makes it screamingly obvious that his “intent” was to getproof of Hillary’s shady dealings and misdeeds. Hedidn’t promise any favor trading with the Russians, he didn’t promiseto to give them “special consideration,” and he didn’t promise tohost Putin’s fucking birthday party, either. That isn’t“collusion,” by definition.

Mindyou, the Russians were definitely up to no good. The lawyer,Natalia Veselnitskaya, spent all her time in Washington and environslobbying against anti-Russian sanctions -after receiving special clearance to enter the country fromLoretta Lynch herself. (Gee,ain’t that funny?) Oncethere, she spent most of her time trying to lobby for “making itlegal for Americans to adopt Russian orphans again,” banned by aRussian law that was retaliation for what she reallywanted to lobby against, the Magnitsky Act - economic sanctions onRussia, named after the whistleblower murdered after he ratted on thecompany that later stuffed 500 million dollars into Bill Clinton’ssticky pockets. Thiseditorial details why the Magnitsky Act really chaps Putin’s ass,but that act itself,likethe orphans/adoption thing, just a way to open up the topic ofanti-Russian economic sanctions. Considering that the ~masterof the dark arts~Americancitizen lobbyist that translated for her is ex-KGB, and thatNatalia droppedher promised Evidence On Hillary to launch right into her lobbyingspiel, it’s pretty clear what the goal was. Most likely, she wasshilling the same Kremlin bullshit she’d pushed everywhere else, withthe promised Evidence Of Hillary’s Crimes a bullshit lie to get inthe door. Or at absolute worst, she was trying to dangle a potentialpromise of ~evidence~ in return for potential or implied promises ofTrump’s future administration to lower sanctions on Russia (whichhe’s refused to do, by the way.) At best she was wasting TrumpJr’s. time, and at worst she was trying to solicit a deal - i.e.,collusion.

Andthat’s about when Trump Jr. showedher the door.

Evena fucking dog figuresout that you didn’t actually throw that ball after a few seconds oflooking for it, but the media’s still yapping like they finallycaught that invisible car they’ve been chasing. They’reso completely and utterly absorbed by their own narrative thatthey’ve come to believe it themselves. It’d be cute if they weren’tgrown adults with collegedegrees, you know? IfSatan himself had slithered out of a flaming crevasse andhanded Trump Jr. Hillary’s banking statements on a dead-babyparchment scroll, it still wouldn’t fucking matter unless they hadTrump Jr. signature on a contract selling his soul for it. Andwhat they’ve got now is a campaign operative saying “fuck yes Iwant an October surprise to dunk my opponent with!” Andthis is before you getto the Democrats colluding with Ukrainians at the same time they wereattacking Ukrainians on Trump’s side for being evil andsuspicious, before you weigh theClintons having a corrupt Kremlin-complicit bank stuffing cashin Bill’s pocket as Hillary sells out our biggest fucking uraniummine to the Russians, and before you weigh Loretta Lynch personallygiving that Evil Russian Lawyer permission to enter the country inthe first place.

Andthey honestly don’t understand why nobody believes them. Thegiggles that keep on giving. It’s amazing. 

[tombloodyfelton]

So I finally decided to get out of my comfort zone and write something silly with zero angst and terrible puns and questionable morals. I just thought I owed it to Julian (⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄) Pls don’t hate me for this lol. 

Part I - Allenbert

After the whole fiasco of wiping off Barry’s memories and his little row with Cisco over what could have possibly gone wrong (‘There was nothing wrong with my disruptor, Julian, I’d calculated everything!’, ‘Oh, then why did you forget about Barry’s increase neural velocity?’, ‘Excuse me, but it wasn’t like you remembered that tiny little detail either, Mr. Metahuman Specialist!’), Julian had retreated to the small room next to the Cortex, which he had basically made his own private office. He was currently making himself look busy with working on an algorithm to identify patterns in unsolved murders in Central City in the past ten years when Barry Allen walked in, looking slightly sheepish, but mostly curious and...well, carefree.

‘Carefree’ was a word Julian would have never thought he would one day use to describe the superhero of Central City, but well, here he was.

“So...since everyone else is busy downstairs trying to figure out how to... fix me, I was wondering if we could...talk, perhaps?”

Julian didn’t take his eyes off the tablet in his hands as his fingers typed in a series of codes in quick succession. “Talk? Alright. I can multitask.”

“What do you know about me?”

The question came out of nowhere and made Julian look up at the younger man with a raised brow, “What do I know about you?” You’re a shitty CSI, you’re sloppy and hot-headed, you never listen to my wise suggestions, you have a hero complex… “You’re gay and we’re dating.”

He wasn’t sure why he said that. Maybe because he thought it would rattle Barry, or at the very least annoy him. He liked getting under Barry’s skin, ruffling his feathers, so to speak. It was all good fun, the length the two would go to just to see nostrils flare, teeth sinking into the bottom lip to stop a particularly nasty remark from escaping, but failing most of the time and then being shamelessly unapologetic about it. He braced himself for a sarcastic retort, but for some reason, it didn’t come.

Barry’s pleasantly surprised “We are?” wasn’t exactly what Julian had been expecting to hear. He expected a certain amount of skepticism at least, but instead Barry had sounded pleased with the possibility of them together. Julian also noticed that the brunette CSI hadn’t even objected to being gay either. Curiouser and curiouser.

“Yes, totally.” He said flippantly to mask his surprise, eyes cast downward at the tablet, numbers and charts mixing haphazardly with the sudden images of Barry bent over his desk at the precinct, pants pooling around his long legs, his bare ass sticking out in the air.

Julian dug his finger into the knot of his tie to loosen it. It had suddenly become a little difficult to pass saliva down his throat.

“So, it’d be ok if I did this,” Julian looked up at the odd comment at the same time Barry leaned down to catch Julian’s lips in a surprise kiss.

Julian’s first impulse was to push him away, but Barry was kissing him with so much fervor and charming eagerness that it felt wrong and somewhat cruel to put such an aggressive end to it. Still seated and craning his neck to better access Barry’s mouth, Julian went along with the kiss because it actually felt nice, and he was surprised that he was enjoying a misplaced kiss with Barry Allen, of all people. Normally, he wasn’t particularly interested in such open displays of affection, but Barry had a way of running his tongue seductively over the seam of Julian’s lips and sliding it persuasively into his mouth that the blond couldn’t find it in his heart to care.

“What the fuck, man?”

The two promptly broke apart as their eyes landed on the intruder. Julian cleared his throat and adjusted his tie awkwardly, as he pointed an accusing finger at a deeply flushed Barry, “He kissed me first!”

“Err...I shouldn’t have?” If possible, he went even redder in the face as he took a step away from the desk and Julian’s seated form.

Cisco gave him a comic wide-eyed look mixed with horror and confusion. “No! You’re not even gay! Or did we mess up with your sexuality, too?”

“What? I’m not gay? But I thought...and the kiss was…”, Barry looked back at Julian as if asking for help.

Julian didn’t have the heart to deny him that, not with those innocent eyes and the trembling lips on that stupidly cute face. “It was very nice, Barry.” He said with absolute honesty.

Barry’s face lit up like a child who had just torn into a birthday present only to find his dream toy inside the box. “Yeah! I’d like to try it again.”

Cisco looked like he was about to pull his hair out. “No, you don’t! This isn’t you, Barry. You’re totally not gay,” and then with less conviction, “Well, as far as you let us know all these years, that is.”

Somehow, Julian was finding this whole scenario highly amusing. “Well, if he likes to explore other possibilities now, I’d say we let him.”

Barry gave him a brilliant smile, while Cisco turned to him with a severe frown. “Why are you even enjoying this? I thought you didn't like him.”

Well, the remark was a bit odd, considering the progress Julian had made in his rocky relationship with Barry. He thought everyone knew by now that the two actually got along and the bickering was only part of the fun. Why was Cisco upset over the fact that Julian might like Barry a little more than was allowed within the red lines of friendzone?

“You...don’t like me?” Barry’s eyes were quivering with hurt and confusion. It did something awful to Julian, like he had just kicked a puppy. “Then why are we even dating?”

“You're WHAT? JULIAN WHAT DID YOU SAY TO HIM??”

Julian got to his feet and crossed his arms across his chest defensively, “I was joking, okay?”

“Joking?” Barry now looked on the verge of tears. “Like, we're not really dating?”

Apparently, an amnesiac Barry was also very slow on the uptake. Julian actually liked him better this way, he could easily wrap him around his finger and make him believe the most ridiculous thing. He was just so damn gullible and Julian surprisingly found that a highly attractive personality trait on the speedster.

But the British CSI wasn’t really that horrible of a person. Or at least, he didn’t want to think that he was. “No, Barry, I’m sorry. It was just a stupid joke. I didn’t think you’d believe it.”

Julian was expecting Barry to get angry at him for the prank, but instead, the younger man just kept looking at him with hurt, pleading eyes. “But...but I liked it. The kiss. You. I mean...I have these feelings...I thought...it didn't feel like a joke.”

Barry’s sudden confession of love, or whatever absurd feeling it was, threw Julian completely off-guard. “Oh my lord,” he pinched the bridge of his nose, not believing that a little teasing and a little kiss, no matter how nice it had actually felt, could leave such a strong impression on Barry, who was, by all intent and purposes, totally straight and in love with his childhood sweetheart.

They really needed to get the old Barry back, Julian thought with rising panic.

Still standing in the doorframe, Cisco seemed to be having the same idea. “Julian, please figure out this mess before Iris finds out about it!”

“Why? What does she have to do with anything?” Barry’s cluelessness made Julian snort in amusement. Ignoring the whole creepy love confession, this was the most fun Julian had had in ages. And he had to thank an amnesiac, suddenly-gone-homosexual Barry Allen to thank for it. What had become of his life?

“Barry! You and Iris are engaged!” Julian was finding Cisco’s outbursts also quite funny. Somehow, the thought that this whole mess was the product of something Julian had said made the senior lab tech feel very proud of himself.

“WHAT?!” Was it just him, or were there just too many outbursts in this room, Julian wondered to himself as he watched Barry’s panicked expression with sly amusement. “Why would I even...! I mean, she’s like, my sister? Wally told me he’s my brother, so how does that not make Iris my sister?”

Barry’s reasoning actually managed to quickly sober Julian up. This was getting into dangerous territory now and Julian should really stop treating Barry’s sudden homosexual tendencies and attraction to blond, blue-eyed jerks as an amusing joke. “Okay, this is getting totally fucked-up.”

But it was proving to be very difficult not to be amused at the ridiculousness of the whole situation.

“You think?” Cisco narrowed his eyes angrily at him. “You should’ve thought about it before making such stupid jokes for your perverse amusement.”

Oh, they were back at it again. The constant bickering. What was it with Julian always attracting these types of people into his orbit? Or did he just had that effect on everyone? “Well, I’m sorry! I wasn't lying when I said he kissed me first. Barry here apparently is kind of attracted to me.” And that is by no means my fault, he let Cisco draw that conclusion by himself.

Never let it be said that Julian Albert Desmond would ever admit to having made a mistake. Especially in cases that he clearly had not.  

As if Julian had just said something Barry was dying to hear from the very start, those green eyes began to shine with fierce determination once more. “Yeah, Julian’s right. I really like the idea of us dating.”

How did they end up in this mess, again? Yeah, totally not Julian’s fault.

Cisco grabbed the sides of his head into his hands, looking on the verge of a nervous breakdown. “Oh my god. Okay. I’m leaving you to this! Julian! Fix this!” He then turned on his heels and left the office before either of them could say anything.

Julian turned towards Barry who was looking back at him with badly-concealed anticipation, biting his lip and shifting from one foot to another. He gave the brunette a suggestive smirk as he walked around the desk to get closer to him. Barry held his breath, green eyes daring him to throw all caution to the wind.

It had been ages since Julian had felt this carefree . He supposed Barry’s attitude was probably contagious.

“Okay, where were we?” And before he knew it, they were making out again, all eager mouths and labored breathing and drawn-out moans, hands tangled into one another’s hair and their bodies flushed from chest to hip, Julian on his tiptoes to better reach Barry’s amazing lips.

Barry was a damn good kisser, Julian decided as he felt sharp teeth tugging at his lower lip and sucking it in; and the blond CSI wasn’t one to let such good opportunities go to waste just because of some feeling of moral obligation. He’d let Barry punch him in the face once he regained his memories and then everything would be back to normal. No more guilty conscience and all, if there ever was one.

Next Part: Julvibe

[hailey-halstead]

Firehouse Family

little brettonio family fic :-') hope you enjoy! i am willing to take requests for my headcanon😊i don't own anything (except for irene lol) —————— "You ready to meet your firehouse family?" Sylvie cooed, beginning to unbuckle her one week old daughter out of her car seat. "Don't you think this might be a little too early?" Antonio questioned behind her. Sylvie could barely manage to not roll her eyes. Even though this was his third child, compared to her very first, he was being very particular and protective over Irene. She assumed it was because of her hard delivery and Irene being a smaller baby. Antonio had mentioned that Laura had smooth deliveries with both Eva and Diego and that they weren't as small as Irene. "You could have stayed home." Sylvie pointed out, cradling Irene to her chest, adjusting the thin blanket she had around her. For it being the end of August, it was rather windy today, making it a little colder than usual for the end of summer. "It's my last day before I have to head back to work." Antonio responded, hoisting the baby bag over his shoulder. "I would like to spend it with my family instead of staying home twiddling my thumbs." "Well then let's enjoy this." She couldn't help but smile when Irene began to yawn, her tiny mouth shaping into a little o. Antonio had already began walking, not noticing his daughter's cute action. Sylvie picked up her pace to catch up to him. "How about you hold her?" She suggested. "Make you feel better." Antonio stopped walking, turning towards Sylvie and Irene. His face softened as he viewed his daughter. But he didn't show any interest in swapping the baby bag for the actual baby. "It would be better if you hold her, you are showing your co-workers your own baby, after all. I'm just tagging along." He begun walking into the station. "You're not just chopped liver." Sylvie went through the door Antonio was holding open. "You helped create this little gal." Irene had been napping before they left, so when they had arrived was actually when she was beginning to wake up. Now she was wide awake, her eyes taking in her surroundings. Her little hands that were under her blanket were now being stretched out, one of them brushing against Sylvie's face. Antonio reached out to cup the back of Irene's head gently. "I guess that makes me important." He murmured, a smile coming into his face when Irene let out another yawn, the noise and the facial expression able to melt millions of hearts. "We could just have her to ourselves for another day." Antonio said, knowing that If he could make Sylvie change her mind, now was his chance. Having her daughter close to her chest, and her husband right beside her did make her want to just go home and be their tiny little family, what they have been doing this past week. But it was the last day before Antonio was going back to work, and she would be on her own taking care of Sylvie majority of the time, so it was good this was their first outing. She was able to have her husband by her side. "No," She shook her head, moving forward through the fire department. "It's our first outing for the three of us, a special occasion." He must of finally realized they weren't going to leave, as he became silent. Sylvie's heart couldn't help but start pounding as she began to hear chatter from the kitchen area. It wasn't from nervousness, more from the anticipation of introducing her daughter to the people who met so much to her. She didn't realize she had stopped moving until Antonio placed his hand against her back. "You ready?" He asked. Sylvie nodded, taking a quick breath to center herself again. "Yeah, let's go introduce Irene to everyone." They entered the kitchen, going unnoticed by the whole crew. Until Herrmann got up from his seat, heading towards the stove to get more food. He stopped in his tracks when he saw the new arrivals. "Brett! You didn't tell us you were stopping by!" He yelled, caught completely off guard. "Keep your voice down." Sylvie cautioned him, glancing down at Irene to make sure she wasn't frightened by Herrmann's booming voice. She was fine, eyes moving around curiously. Antonio leaned over her shoulder, looking at their daughter as well. Even though Antonio was acting more protective over Irene than she was, she couldn't deny that she was acting like a typical mother bear that she heard countless stories about over the year. Definitely when you become a mother your protective instincts intensify. "Oh! Sorry." To his credit, Herrmann brought his voice down to almost a whisper. "Wow, she's beautiful. The pictures didn't do her justice." This caught the attention of everyone else. In no time Sylvie and Antonio were surrounded by the members of truck and squad, as well Gabby, who snuck up behind them to peer over their shoulders. "Oh my god!" Stella cooed, hands reaching out. "She looks a lot like you, Brett." "You sure she's yours, Antonio?" "Hey, hey." Sylvie was being to feel overwhelmed, even with Antonio's comforting supportive hand resting on her back. "Can you guys step back, please? I promise she isn't going anywhere." They obliged, but their gazes never left Irene. It warmed Sylvie's heart by how excited they were to meet her daughter. "She's so small." Mouch said aloud, clearly captivated by the tiny baby. "Yeah, she was even tinier when she was born." She told them, and couldn't resist teasing Antonio. "This guy was afraid to hold her at first." She bumped her shoulder against his. "In my defense, Eva and Diego were a lot bigger." Antonio was quick to defend himself. "How have you been feeling?" Herrmann asked, eyeing Sylvie with concern. "Getting any sleep?" Sylvie couldn't hold back a snort when Herrmann mentioned sleeping. "Not really, no." She admitted, bringing her finger close to Irene, who wrapped her tiny fingers over it. "But it's worth it, you know. Plus she has been great besides keeping us from sleeping." "Can I hold her?" Herrmann asked, arms out with eager eyes. Knowing he was a dad himself, and had certainly more experience than her, she carefully handed over Irene, smiling as she easily adjusted herself in his arms. In that retrospect, she was a very easy-going baby. "Wow," Herrmann breathed, gently rocking Irene back and forth. "Reminding me when my kids were this size." Cruz scooted closer to Herrmann, it was obvious that he wanted to hold Irene too. After Sylvie gave a nod of approval, the senior firefighter began to hand the infant over to Cruz. But once she was being held by Cruz, Irene broke out into an instant wail. Sylvie ignored the urge to grab her baby, waiting to see if Cruz could calm her down. But Cruz began to panic, immediately handing Irene off to Antonio, who was closer to him than Sylvie. Once she was in her father's arms, Irene began to calm down, being gently rocked by Antonio and having whispered reassurances. Just like all the other times Sylvie has seen Antonio and Irene bonding together this week, her heart couldn't help but grow a few sizes. And then above them, the alarm began going off, calling for Truck 81, Squad 3, and Ambulance 61. Irene began shrieking again, frightened by the loud unsuspecting sound. However, Sylvie had came prepared. Knowing that she would be bringing her daughter around the firehouse for years to come, she bought little soundproof headphones for Irene. As Antonio cupped one of his hands over her ear, the other one being pressed against his chest, Sylvie dug through the baby bag on Antonio's shoulder, until she found what she was looking for. She placed the headphones over Irene's tiny head, even though it was a tad too big for her currently, they still did their job, blocking out the loud sound from her sensitive ears. She became quiet, but her tears were still visible. "I guess that is our cue to go." Sylvie said, taking Irene back into her own arms, as Antonio dug his keys out of his pocket. The room was already empty, everyone else getting ready to head back to work. A part of Sylvie's heart yearned to be back here working, but she was more than willing to spend time with her daughter these next few months.

[redscullyrevival]

Blood of Dragons: Rain Wilds Chronicles Rundown

Mixing up the format a little bit today, but we’ll make it through @sonnetscrewdriver!

Thymara

First lets state the truth: Thymara has changed a lot from the first book.

Thymara has undoubtedly grown and has gone on to make her own rules, her biggest change being she has learned to love and understand herself.

I see that, Hobb has made that clear.

What’s hard about Thymara is that while I’ve come far in appreciating her as a character, in the end I don’t really agree with her views.

Which isn’t like a big deal. It would be if Hobb didn’t express her character’s as well as she does but like most characters in Realm of the Elderlings I understand Thymara. 

I get her.

I just don’t agree with her, and I’m not talking about her “choosing” Tats over Rapskal, although the two boys do represent narrative ideas so in a way they are connected - but whatever ignore that for now lol.

Rapskal was being an asshole during his and Thymara’s confrontation right before the dragon’s flight to Chalced. He was angry and hurt and probably scared and was lashing out with words and accusations. 

But while he was in the wrong, he wasn’t making stuff up.

“How is that fair? What sort of love did you have for me, that demands that I must always remain the same?” - that’s some real shit right there.

“You still can’t step away and decide things for yourself.” - like DAMN!

This Elderling series was all about changing the rules, changing social structures, just as much as it was about physical changes being tied to our inner personal changes. 

I mean, it’s not a ~coincidence~ all the Keepers are adolescents; The Rain Wilds Chronicles is a unveiled (hah!) coming of age story displaying all the insecurity, fear, sexuality, mental tribulation and physical changes one experiences when stepping into adulthood - and when social constructs are restructured anew.

And at the end of the story Thymara is still pretty childish. 

Which isn’t inherently bad! 

Thymara is just going much slower than others are. She is choosing to go slower and that’s her choice and it’s a choice expressed well within her character arc, her agency is clear. 

What I disagree with is Thymara’s belief that her views, her chosen pace, is ‘correct’ (and I’m a little miffed the narrative leans towards supporting her view, which in my opinion dilutes the potency of the CHANGING THE RULES! themes).

Now, Thymara doesn’t express this directly towards others that often and really the only person she seems intent on passing judgement on is Rapskal (well, and Jerd) - and a part of that is because Rapskal puts her in that position, he pulls just as much as he pushes that’s true.

Which is why Tat’s won out in the romance department and that was the right choice for those characters in keeping their characterization honest. 

My point is that Thymara has made the correct choice for herself, that’s thoroughly explored, but her continued unease about whatever everyone else is doing and how they are changing (especially Rapskal) is telling. 

And as a third independent thinking party Thymara comes off as a bit pious to me. 

I feel in my bones if we ever come across her again we may see her look back on her early steps into adulthood with embarrassment.

Thymara is going to come out of her adolescence a lot safer, a lot sturdier then others due to her slow pace but not necessarily more emotionally or mentally secure. 

Her risks remain low, Thymara only starts to actively engage her own life at the end of the tale.  

But what was her last moment in the series? She flew! However briefly. 

I believe Thymara’s wings are representative of the idea that she is going to continue growing, that eventually she’ll be higher than everyone and when she rises her perspective will drastically shift. 

Because time is it’s own change; aging is it’s own change; incorporating experience into your life is it’s own change; and Thymara has taken the tortoise route. 

Then there is this guy:

Rapskal

Rapskal is in the opposite direction of Thymara with his own terrifying adolescence pitfalls.

Rapskal believes that because he has absorbed memories of older people (in passage of time and age) he thus has experience - and that’s somewhat true! 

Reyn confirms this when he is shocked that Rapskal can beat him in swordplay. Rapskal’s body absorbs and remembers Tellator as much as his mind; he is built mentally different than the other Elderlings and he is stronger both in body and conviction. 

The rub is that Rapskal uses memory stones as shorthand for his own existence, uses them to bypass his own early stage adulthood and skip to being someone new entirely. 

He’s already committed to his new perspective, he has already flown whereas Thymara is only starting to believe that maybe someday she can.

But he is still someone of his own making, incorporated memories and all!

Rapskal has made choices just as much as Thymara has. Neither of them are wrong in their choice because the point is that the choices belong to them individually, the issue is that they can’t see it that way yet.

Because that’s growing up; can't see the forest for the trees.

And sometimes people get lost and/or grow apart. 

Thymara shouldn’t have sat around and sulked and felt sad about how SHE was loosing her friend Rapskal - she thought of him only as how he related to herself and what she wanted him to be.

Rapskal shouldn’t have pressured Thymara into treating the memories she absorbed as he was treating the ones he did, he made the same adolescent mistake when it comes to growing up in close proximity with others - he too considered her as how she related to himself and what he wanted her to be to him. 

Basically Thymara and Rapskal are seriously convincing teenage protagonists! LOL

Those teenage years are full of selfishness, confusing, draining, terrifying, selfishness. They are! That’s what’s so hard about them, you don’t see it until you’re past it, until you’re above it.

And I think that’s the deal with Elderling’s coming from Humanity.

Check it:

Plot/Narrative/Setting

We know now that Elderlings come from humans; so in a lot of ways we can view humanity as an adolescent stage.

Kelsingra itself is like the adult form of Trehaug; traveling up river the water starts to run clear and the ground begins to firm.  

Growing up is hard, the physical changes take getting use to; the solid ground feels odd compared to the swinging imbalance of the last place.

Humanity is changing to survive and learning to coexist with dragons once again; the growing pains of which is it’s own social, ideological, adolescence.

I think you get my point!

No one knows exactly what they’re doing. Everyone is just making Elderling society up as they go for the most part - the beautiful self discovery and terrifying responsibility of adulthood transferred onto an entirely new race and society.  

It’s a little frustrating we won’t get to directly see the Elderling’s ascend but they’re now far too big a presence in the narrative space to not come back to, possibly even sooner than later! I’m excited to see what Fiz and The Fool has to offer me and what kind of thematic extension it may be to the end of Rain Wilds.

Because this last book feels like another set up, doesn’t it?just a little bit? It feels like Blood of Dragons is leaning into another book - but that could just be the anticlimactic tone lol.

I’m super excited to go back to Fiz and see how he’s doing and what nonsense he’ll be sucked into next but, again, it’s frustrating I won’t get to experience the keeper’s owning their choices and owning adulthood - as with Thymara I’m really pressed to see how time and age will change their views of their journey up the river and into Elderings. I don’t want to wait! Haha, silly. 

Something that was disappointing with the end of this book is that because the cast is so large it doesn't feel like a lot of people get any kind of closure for the reader, you know?  

Tats and Thymara getting the last scene made me a little worried, like maybe I misunderstood the series? I worried that maybe their relationship meant more to the narrative then I had picked up on simply because it was given the weighty place of being the last scene, whereas many loose threads among the many other characters were left dangling.

So that was a bit unsatisfying. 

But all in all most everyone got their grand (to little) moments of confirmation in who they’ve become.

Not my favorite book in the series but still a solid entry!

AND MY BABIES LIVED! Yaaayayyaayayaaaaaaaaaa *gurgle* 

Alise

Alise is off and rolling! I hope she gets the recognition she deserves for her scholarly work and I hope she continues to pursue it, just as I hope she continues to pursue her new life.

I appreciated how quickly Alise found happiness, found what she wanted, and didn’t torture herself with denying herself that happiness (unlike some Six Duchies men I know...)

Alise and Leftrin’s bond is secure and I really liked how the confrontation with Hest was at no point played for will-she-won’t-she-drama, we knew she had no remote desire to return to hest, no hesitation to cast him aside to his face. 

Alise’s total and instant shutdown of Hest was hard won on her part and I liked how it wasn’t treated in the narrative like this glorified shiny moment but rather a resented necessity. 

Captain Leftrin

The sweetest and most stoic man, partner to my favorite Liveship. 

Just a treat. <3

Sedric

Good job Sedric! Well done!

Sedric has come a long way and still has further to go.

His struggle with trying to untangle himself from what Hest shaped him into and then what of that shape he genuinely enjoys or wants to discard is interesting stuff that I wish we could have dug into a little deeper - another draw back of having such a huge cast.

Overall we leave Sedric in a good place, I get the feeling he’ll settle into a place of some importance in new Elderling society and I hope his organization and communication skills are put to good use, for his and other’s benefit. 

Precious man. 

Tats

So I’m sitting here, trying to think of what to write about for Tats and the first thing I did was think, “Well, why did Thymara want?”

Why am I thinking about Thymara when I’m trying to talk about Tats?!

That’s what’s so frustrating to me about this character! 

I. Don’t. Know. Him.

I don’t want to say Tats is boring but Tats is borning.

He is nice.

He is patient.

That’s it?

I’m indifferent to Tats and Thymara ending up together. I’m not invested in their relationship and never was, nor was I ever really sold on the non-love-triangle stuff.

And that’s why the ending of the series felt like maybe I missed something? LOL 

Like, I was sitting there going “Wait, really? We’re ending on this note with these two? Oh shit I didn’t invest right.” 

It was a weird realization! I also realized I didn’t care lol 

I think I still got plenty out of the series and understood the wider themes just fine even if the specific route of Thymara/Tats eluded me.

Highlighted Passages

She could change. She wasn’t chained to her past. She could become someone who wasn’t merely a product of what others had done to her. It wasn’t too late.

Isn’t it what humans have done for generations? We claim the land as ours and turn it to our purposes. We change the channels of rivers and the face of the land so that we can travel by boat or grow a crop or graze cattle. And we think it only natural that we should shape the whole world to be comfortable and yielding for humankind. Why should dragons be any different in how they perceive the world?

From Ronica Vestrit of the Vestrit Traders, Bingtown To Whatever Incompetent Bird Handler is accepting messages in Cassarick

Humans could never accept the world as it was and live in it. They were always breaking it and living among the shattered pieces.

She’d had to change her image of herself from the very bones out. Ultimately, she knew, it had been good for her. That did not mean she enjoyed being reminded of it.

When she ventured into her memory sampling, it was for a specific purpose and she kept her attention tightly focused on what she wanted to know, refusing all other tugs at her attention. It was like diving into deep cold water to retrieve a sparkling stone.

It was Tarman’s way, and for himself, Leftrin was grateful that his liveship was more taciturn than most. He did not think he could have enjoyed a chatterbox like the Ophelia or a moody and dramatic ship like the Paragon. But there, it was probably like it was for children. Each parent thought his was the best, and doubtless every captain would prefer his own liveship to any other.

She tried to see him impartially; was he an ugly child, doomed to be rejected by other children as he grew? She had found she could not tell. He was Ephron, her little boy, and his differences were part of who he was, not points to be compared with others.

King and queen. It made her ridiculously sad. The dreams of Malta the girl might come true even as the longings of Phron’s mother were destroyed. 

He blurted out the words and then was horrified. He had never intended to speak of it to anyone. Having someone else know about it made it real.

“There is something about knowing that someone is taking pleasure in giving you incredible pain . . . with no remorse. It changes how you see yourself; it changes what you can believe of other people. It changes everything.”

Elderlings found a way, but I do not recall the details of it. They could touch it and wear it on their hands to work their magic. It gave intent to stone, and it spoke to wood and pottery and metal, bidding it be a certain shape or react in a given way. And those things did as the Elderlings bade them. They made doorways from it, entries of stone that they used to travel to their other cities. They created buildings that stayed warm in the winter. They made roads that always remembered they were roads and did not allow plants to break them. The most powerful of them sometimes used Silver to transform themselves at death, going into the statues they made to preserve a strange sort of life for themselves.

And ridiculous red Heeby flew wherever she would, now part of the formation, now trailing it, now flying to one side. Her slender scarlet rider sang as they flew, a song of anger and vengeance, but also one that praised the beauty of angry dragons in flight and painted a glorious victory for them. Ridiculous, and ridiculous that she and the others enjoyed it so. Thymara had complained more than once about how freely the dragons used their glamour to compel their keepers to tend them. Yet not once had she ever admitted the power that human flattery and praise in song could exert over dragons. She was not the only dragon who flew with her mind full of Rapskal’s glorious images of exotically beautiful dragons triumphing over every obstacle.

But Sedric, what have you done? All will know that you . . .” “That I am what I am,” he said calmly. “I do not apologize for that. Ever.”

“I knew Hest existed. I knew you’d been his. There were times when I felt like a thief. There was a day when Sedric took me on about it, saying that I was going to ruin your whole life by loving you. Made me feel selfish and low for wanting you.” “It seems a lifetime ago.” She smiled at him. “We used to worry about such peculiar things.”

“He made no cry for vengeance when I was the one who was dying,” she observed sourly to her Elderling. “Yet let them succeed in giving him a bellyache, and he will melt all their cities with venom.”

Malta was not pleased to let him go and not only because she feared for him. No, she had wanted to be the one to ride the queen into battle.

He and Carson and Malta had had several long and philosophical conversations about how these new Elderlings might form their society. This was his first unveiled look at it, and he tried to conceal his surprise and dismay. 

Distantly he heard Davvie shouting something about “you torn-up old umbrella!” 

“You’ve seen many things in the stone, haven’t you, Tellator?” He looked at her consideringly. “I lived many things,” he replied. “And other things I know from the stone ancestors I chose for myself. If one is to be a warrior, then one chooses the accounts of warriors, to read them from the stone and to use their experience again. And so I am Tellator, but I am also the ones that Tellator incorporated into himself.”

Brashen scratched his chin and then smiled at Althea. “Changing history seems to run in your family. First Wintrow and Malta, now Selden.” He took a sip of his tea. Paragon spoke up, his voice wry. “So fortunate for you that you married the sane, responsible female in the family.” Brashen choked.

We begin a new time. Perhaps we begin with new ways.