#Highways and Hedges

[laku-incarnate]

"When the sordid desire for gold has been half-satisfied, however, and sometimes before that, it is discovered that the toil involved was a poor striving, after all, for something not to be compared with what had been within reach all the time without the striving."

Herbert Morrah, Highways and Hedges

[lolasangelz]

the hills estate

w/c: a/n: trying a new layout/theme what do we think?

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the invitation arrived two weeks before - thick card, gold edges, the kind of thing georgia had grown up pretending not to resent. the hills were hosting a spring luncheon at the estate. formal dress. no children. mandatory smiles.

rafe had looked at the envelope over her shoulder, muttering something about needing to burn that house down. gigi didn’t laugh.

they went anyway.

it was just the two of them, pulling up the winding drive that gigi knew by heart but hadn’t seen in over a year. the manicured hedges, the stone fountain, the front doors that opened like a warning. she wore pale blue silk and pearls that didn’t belong to her anymore. rafe wore a navy suit, gold cufflinks. he didn’t let go of her hand.

amber was the first to greet them. air-kiss to each cheek, bright smile, voice too high. "you look tired," she said softly to gigi. "and you look bored," gigi replied with a sharp little smile.

inside, the house was too warm and smelled like old money and gardenias. elton and james were already talking politics near the liquor cart. elena was standing by the french doors with her third glass of wine, eyes rolling so hard it made gigi smirk.

gigi made it halfway through a flute of champagne before her mother cornered her in the drawing room.

"you’ve lost too much weight georgia," her mother whispered, brushing her cheek like she was still a child. "i’ve had four children," gigi said. "i think i’m allowed to look tired."

rafe stayed close. he didn’t speak much, just narrowed his eyes when anyone tried to get too close to her. gigi could feel the tension in his jaw through the arm he kept possessively around her waist.

"they don’t deserve you," he murmured once, bending down to kiss the side of her head. she didn’t answer. her throat was too tight.

later, during dessert, amber brought up rafe’s family in a voice sweet enough to rot teeth. "and how is the cameron legacy these days? still keeping the tabloids busy?"

"still richer than yours," rafe said without looking up from his coffee.

gigi reached under the table and squeezed his thigh, not to scold him - just to say thank you.

they left early.

in the car, georgia didn’t speak until they were back on the highway, until the house was nothing but a memory in the rearview mirror.

"i hate how i still want their approval," she said quietly, forehead against the glass. "i hate that it still hurts."

"they’re nothing to you anymore," rafe said. one hand on the wheel, the other finding hers.

"they’re everything that made me this," she said. "and you’re the only thing that makes it worth it."

he pulled the car over suddenly, right there on the side of the road.

"you are not them," he said, turning to face her. "you’re not what they tried to make you. you’re- you’re better. you’ve made a life they could never dream of. four kids, a home, hell- me. you made me better angel."

gigi blinked hard, then reached for him, and they kissed like it had been days, not hours.

when they got home, the house was quiet. maddie had left a drawing on the kitchen table that said "i love you mummy" in crayon.

rafe looked at it, then looked at gigi, and murmured, "they’re your real legacy."

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feel free to send in asks!! promise i dont bite (maybe)

[seraphcas111]

A Postcard Story:

So for Dean's 46th this year, he decides to drag his husband around the states in Baby, ordering radio silence from his family to enjoy the open road, wherever the road takes them.

Here's a thread of postcards he sends Sam along the roadtrip:

Seattle was a nice place to start, people are kind and there's a lot of good food he's never tried. Dean was just glad that Cas could fly Baby with them to get there. Don't get him wrong, angel flight sucks too, for his stomach in particular, but it's nowhere near as bad as a plane.

When they drove into Cali, he was glad they managed to see the bridge in all it's glory. Real movie moment for him. They relaxed in Santa Cruz for a while, enjoying the views along the Pacific coast highway. He brought the Hawaiian shirts they bought when they all went to Gran Canaria a few summers ago as a family, getting nice tans before moving on.

Cas didn't let him rest for long when they got to L.A, asking Dean to hear him out before getting mad as he dragged him out. All frustration disappeared when they arrived at the studio though, Dean nerded out about the themed restaurants and rides while there was a mustard stain on his chin from chili dog he devoured. Cas was just happy to eat a burger and see Dean smile.

Tombstone flipped the tables for them. Now Cas loves his husband's passion, it's one of the most endearing qualities, he'd never let anyone dim the brightness he has talking about cowboys and westerns. But it can be a lot sometimes. He was committed to buying them both a full cowboy outfit before they left. Plus a hat for Jack, a buckle for Sam, new cowboy boots for Eileen and souvenirs he could hand out to the family.

Despite it being hot as balls, Dean loved being in Texas again. They ate some good authentic barbeque and went to a few museums Cas was interested in. Dean liked hearing him talk about the old buildings, the history and changes the landscape went through and Cas liked seeing Dean take selfies in front of the world's tallest cowboy boots, having to stop him promptly from climbing it and potentially breaking his back from a fall.

They took it slow in New Orleans, strolling down the french quarter like they were a couple courting in some Edwardian romance. It was warm but not oppressive, content to walk aimlessly, hand in hand, while the sounds of buskers playing strings echoed around the alleys. They danced under a street lamp, and kissed sweetly when the moon rose, all he could think about was how he felt safe in Cas' arms.

Dean loved it in Downtown, he felt right at home, locals welcoming him and Cas with open arms. They passed him free drinks when they saw their rings, pushed him on stage to sing some tipsy version of 'Should've been a cowboy'. Cas seemed to find it funny. He wouldn't say why.

He'd forgotten what a real Philly cheese steak was supposed to taste like but fuck him, he can't ever go back. One of the owners happily gave him the recipe, challenging him in recreating the sandwich he ordered. He's not got it perfect yet, but he's determined. At least Cas is a bottomless pit who can eat all the failed attempts he makes, zero waste fun!

New York was strange. He kept thinking about all the eccentrics and wide eyed kids who probably had dreams he'd never even considered before. At least when he looks at Cas now, he doesn't think he's done badly, hell maybe he's living a dream these New Yorkers wish they had too. He can't imagine what it's like to hedge all your scraped money and efforts on a chance of making it big as any kind of artist. He's pretty sure he already hit the jackpot with his life.

Teaching Cas to fish in Maine was a tumultuous task to put it nicely. Cas is already bitchy enough and Dean knows he can give as good as he gets, but they agreed never to go on a tiny boat alone together if one of them doesn't want to be drowned. Not to say they didn't have a good time though. They enjoyed the quiet of the calm waters and the breeze on their skin. Cas' first successful catch of the visit put them at ease, hell they were gonna drink a bottle of whiskey to celebrate, he got a pretty big one after all.

Cas was really making use of that sketchpad. He bought it for his husband a couple hundred miles back, noticing him sketching absent mindedly whenever there was a moment of reprieve. Dean hasn't seen everything inside, but he's seriously amazed at Cas' talent. Who knew right? It's a good way to store the memories, something more personal than the dorky couple selfies they took together in front of the falls. He'll look through them fondly later, remembering the time he took to enjoy his life, and enjoy Cas. Both things he's taken for granted before. He's learned his lesson now.

“It was awesome, seriously, and the water was so clear too, y'know? I asked Cas about Paradise falls on the way home” “The one in Venezuela?” Sam surmises, nursing his beer with a small smile. “Yeah! Well he said that he'd been a couple times centuries ago and it felt pretty magical then, and then I said ‘Did you know they're called Angel Falls too?’ and he gave me that look–” “I did not give you that look.” Cas frowns. “You totally did, Sam, you know the one.” “I did not give any looks, I just said that I was aware, and that was that.” Sam watches them both roll their eyes fondly at each other, hands definitely held together under the map table. “Whatever, my point is, we should totally go there together! I mean with the Angel flight express we could camp somewhere pretty close to the falls themselves.” “Like in 'Up' ? I'm in!” Jack says with a bright smile. Dean high fives him and Cas just sighs in exasperation. Eileen watches them all fondly, chin resting on her hand, likely feeling the same longing ache Sam does easing as she watches them all in the same space again. Sam missed this. He was really happy that Dean wanted to take time away for himself, for Cas too. They deserved to disappear from the world and live some of the life they both missed out on. But damn did he miss his family's regular bullshit, nothing makes him happier. “You know what, that sounds like a great idea.” Dean looks back at him with surprise, but it quickly shifts into that signature grin. “That's what I wanna hear! I knew I could count on you Sammy.” “How about we feed you before you go taking us to the other end of the world? Can't plan for reckless journeys on empty stomachs.” Ellen segways smartly. Dean claps his hands and points at her in agreement and they all start to get up to move. Sam sits and watches for a few seconds, just to be grateful for what he has. “Sammy, you good man?” Dean asks, looking back over his shoulder. “Yeah, yeah I'm good. Oh hey, Dean?” Dean raises his eyebrows in question. “Happy birthday.” Dean rolls his eyes, but smiles at him, and they walk together towards the kitchen.

💙💚

[kindersurprisebacterium]

Mister (Ghost/Reader)

CW: DILF Ghost, age gap, best friend's father, cunilingus, fingering, vaginal sex, overstimulation (kinda), alcohol use, reader is in college

Gender Neutral AFAB Reader

WC: 3.2k

On the corner of a caul-du-sac sat a cookie-cutter house. The front was adorned with terracotta brick walls. Nearly trimmed hedges and flower beds lined the driveway. It was suburbia. Different from the campus housing I was used to downtown. 

I was hesitant to come here. Sleepovers seemed…juvenile. But Audrey and I seemed to get along well, even after knowing each other for only two weeks. So I packed up a night’s worth of clothes and some toiletries and met her in the corridor after lecture. 

Her neighborhood was only fifteen minutes outside of the city. The speakers shook the car. Wind whipped through my hair as we sped down the highway. 

I felt odd being here, needless to say. Maybe it had to do with the fact that her dad would be home. I stepped out of her lifted truck, pulling my bag behind me. Her carabiner clinked as she unlocked the front door. I watched as she stepped inside and kicked off her shoes before following behind. 

“My rooms upstairs. You can put all your bags there.” Audrey said, pointing to the staircase. 

“Cool. You gotta show me that poster you were talking about” I grinned. She’d already started up the stairs. The hardwood creaked beneath my feet as I followed her. 

“I was in line for like…three hours? They cut the line of right after me.”

We turned down a corridor filled with picture frames. My eyes skimmed across each one. School pictures, beach trips, vacations abroad, and family photos that were obviously taken in a JC Penny. I jumped when my eyes met a pair of glaring brown irises. 

A man stood before me, leaning in the doorway of an office. Silver curls sat atop his head. Faded scars, years old by now, adorned his pale face. He had a stern look on his face, a look that was somewhere between apathy and annoyance. Maybe that was just his face. 

His arms, covered in intricate black ink, crossed over his broad chest. Even through a thick sweatshirt, I could tell he was well-built. My jaw clenched tightly as the man eyed me. 

“Oh dad, this is my friend from anthropology I was telling you about. They’re staying over tonight,” Audrey spoke up, gesturing to me with her painted nails. 

“Nice to meet you Mr. Riley,” I said, extending my hand. 

“Simon.” He gripped my hand and shook it with a jarring strength. His palms were big enough to nearly engulf my hand. He let go, sliding his hand into his pocket. I turned to face Audrey. She pulled me into her room, closing the door behind the both of us. 

She pulled a framed poster from the wall and held it out for me to see. In the bottom right corner in silver sharpie was a swirling signature from the lead singer of a metal band. 

“Isn’t it so cool?!”

I couldn’t focus on the movie, or the bottle of beer in my hand. My mind kept going back to Simon. I don’t know what it was about him. Maybe it was the way he looked at me as if I was nothing. Maybe it was his grip on my hand. Or his gruff voice.

I felt…embarrassed? I haven’t felt this way about someone since middle school. My mind kept replaying that moment in his head. The way he said his own name. The way his arms flexed when he crossed them over his chest. 

These scattered thoughts flooded my mind for hours. I couldn’t sleep. I glanced back at Audrey, who was out like a light with a puddle of drool on her pillow. Gritting my teeth, I slowly moved off of the mattress. My eyes stayed locked on her sleeping frame, looking for any sign of movement. Nothing. Sighing, I stepped out of the room. Maybe another drink would quell the thoughts. 

I crept down the hallway, walking on my toes. A beam of light caught my eye as I rounded the corner. The kitchen light was on. The steps whined beneath my weight as I descended. Brown eyes locked onto me. 

Simon sat at the kitchen island. His right hand was on his computer mouse, the other resting under his chin. He closed his laptop.

My skin felt hot as his eyes ran up and down my body. I tugged at the hem of my shorts, now acutely aware of how they rode up my thighs. 

“You’re up late,” he muttered. 

“I uh, couldn’t sleep,” I said with a smile that was a little too forced. I stepped into the kitchen and pulled open the fridge, jumping when I heard his chair moving from behind me. My fingers wrapped around the neck of another bottle. As I closed the fridge door, a head of grey hair appeared from behind it. 

He was closer now, leaning on the kitchen island with a glass in hand. 

“Anthropology…” he mumbled, “why’d you choose that?”

“It’s a part of my psychology course,” I explained as I twisted the top off of the bottle. I held the cap in my hand as I took a swig. The amber liquid made my throat tingle as I swallowed. This was more than I’d drank in a while, but I needed it if I wanted to deal with the man in front of me, the man who was slowly stepping closer. 

I could feel my heart in my ears as he approached the fridge. His arm bumped into me as he set his cup underneath the water fountain. Out of the corner of his eyes, he stared at me. My face felt hot. I pursed my lips, looking away hoping he wouldn’t see my flushed face. 

I heard his throat squelch as he swallowed, not daring to look. He sighed and reached his arm across me. The glass clinked as he set it in the sink. I was waiting for him to pull back, give me room to breathe, but he didn’t budge. My eyes traced up his inked arm, to his face. His eyes were fixated on me, staring through me. I felt naked under his gaze. 

“You’re shaking.” He placed a hand on my waist. If anything, his touch made it worse. My entire body was quivering. Whether from nerves or anticipation, I couldn’t tell. He stepped forward, close enough that his thighs brushed against my hip. 

“You’re shaking,” he repeated. His fingertips grazed my chin, gently tilting my head up to look at him. 

“I know.” My voice was barely a whisper. The corner of his lips curled up into a smirk. He was getting a kick out of this, and somehow that made it even hotter. 

“You nervous?” He asked. It didn’t seem like a question if he already knew the answer. His eyes flicked between my lips, and my eyes. Every time his eyes met mine, I could feel it in my stomach.

“I-” I couldn’t get the words out. His lips were on mine. The warmth of his kiss slowly melted away the tension in my muscles. By the time his hands were on my hips, I was putty in his grasp. I hooked my arms around his neck, pulling him down so I didn’t have to stand on my toes. His fingers slid into the waistband of my shorts. 

“Wait, I don’t want to wake Audrey,” I pushed my hands against his chest, breaking the kiss. 

“So we go to my room.” His tongue slid up my neck. The tips of his fingers grazed along my hipbones but didn’t date to go another inch forward. 

“But-”

“When’s the last time you’ve had a good fuck,” he asked, speaking against my neck. He punctuated his words with a kiss along my carotid. My lips pursed. I could feel my hands clench into fists. I knew I shouldn’t be doing this. Audrey was the first friend I’d made all year, and I didn’t want to jeopardize that. The throbbing in my core drew my attention. Every inch of my body craved his touch. My head was spinning with desire. My breath grew shallower, quicker, as lust swept over me in full force. I couldn’t take it. There was just something about him. I needed to feel him. 

“Please don’t tell her,” I begged. My fingers latched onto the collar of his sweatshirt. He pulled back, just to see the look on my face. My lips were parted, eyes half lidded, and I’m sure the blush on my cheeks had deepened to a red. 

“I wouldn’t dare.” He picked me up by my waist and slung me over his shoulder. His palm rested on the small of my back, while his other arm hooked around the back of my legs. Simon approached the stairs, giving my thighs a squeeze as he ascended. He turned right down the hallway. My eyes locked onto Audrey’s door. I could feel my jaw clenching. Should I really be doing this?

The bedroom door clicked shut behind us. My back met the plush bedding. The mattress creaked underneath my weight. Simon pulled his shirt over his head. His muscles were defined, illuminated by the soft lighting. Thickened scar tissue dotted his body like ivy on an old wall. I couldn’t help but feel intimidated as he crawled on the bed. 

He sat between my legs. His fingers idly stroked my inner thighs. His stubble scratched the skin of my neck as he leaned in. He pressed kisses to my neck, traveling up to my jaw. 

“Can I take these off?” He asked, tugging at the hem of my shorts. My stomach fluttered. 

“Yeah,” I spoke softly. He slipped his fingers beneath the waistband and began tugging, jolting my body as he pulled them down my hips. I felt my face heat up as his gaze locked onto my cunt. He swiped his index finger through the wetness pooling in my core. The tip of his finger brushed against my clit. A whine caught in my throat. 

“I just know you’re not gonna be good for me.” He moved to lie on his stomach. His sharp canines pierced the skin of my thighs. My teeth sunk into my bottom lip to quell the onslaught of moans. 

His thumb circled my clit. The movements were slow at first. His eyes locked onto my cunt, almost as if he was waiting for something. I bucked my hips into his hand, and then he stopped. I whined, pouting my lip.

Warm, wet licks against my skin diminished my protests. His hips rutted against the bed as he slowly ate me out. My brows furrowed as his tongue flicked against my clit in sharp movements. Fingertips circled around my entrance before slowly sliding in. He moaned against my cunt. I clamped my hand over my mouth in an attempt to muffle the cry that rose from my chest. 

Simon differed from anyone I’d slept with before. Foreplay was never a big part of my escapades, it was always straight to penetration. There was something about a man between my legs, moaning against my cunt, and looking up at me with pleading eyes that made my body heat up. 

Every movement of his was deliberate, from the way his fingers curled up ever so slightly with every thrust, to the way his palm rested on my stomach. It was as if he’d cast a spell on my limbs. My toes curled, fingers digging into the sheets. Each thought in my head slowly disappeared, replaced with the feeling of his tongue on my clit. I felt hot and sticky. Beads of sweat rolled down my chest. I gripped my shirt and pulled it from my body. 

His hand slid up my stomach until reaching my chest. He gripped my nipple between his index and thumb. My back arched off of the bed. His gaze seemed transfixed on me, soaking in my every reaction with those brown eyes. 

I tossed my head against the pillows. My stomach tensed as each flick of his tongue drew me further into bliss. His lips wrapped around my clit, sucking gently. My hand flew to his head, pulling his hair tight. A throbbing pain settled in my face as my eyes rolled to the back of my head. My muscles went taut as I came on his tongue. 

He pulled away, skin slick with my wetness. His fingers kept slowly pumping inside of me. He leaned in, pressing his lips to mine. I could taste myself on his skin. A whine swelled from within my throat. He slid another finger inside me, thrusting alongside the others.

“Simon,” I said against his lips. 

“Gotta make sure you can take me, love,” he groaned.

The nickname made my heart flutter in a way it shouldn’t. As the haze that clouded my head faded, I became acutely aware of what I was doing. I was fucking my friend’s dad. 

“You’re so tense. Come on, open up for me.” I couldn’t tell if he was talking to me or my cunt. My breath hitched when his mouth lowered to my chest. He gently bit down on my nipple, laughing at the way it made me squirm. His brows furrowed as he sucked my skin into his mouth. 

With a soft pop, he pulled off of my nipple, only to dive back in. He sunk his teeth into my skin. I clenched around his fingers, earning a groan from him. His thumb brushed against my sensitive clit. My voice contorted as the overstimulation made my head swim. 

“Fuck, there you go,” He spoke against my skin. “Such a pretty cunt.”

His words pushed me over the edge. I gushed around his fingers. My thighs quivered and clamped down around his hand. I took in heaving breaths as he worked me through my orgasm. I stared down at the man with half-lidded eyes. He smirked, watching my expression as I slowly came down from my high. 

The bed shifted as he moved. His grey hair vanished from my peripherals. The drawer to his nightstand slid open with a low rumble. I didn’t bother to turn my head. 

When he settled back onto the bed, his jeans were gone. My eyes skimmed down his nude body, settling on his cock, which was now resting on my stomach.

He was right. It was big. The heat that radiated off of his skin drew my thoughts into more perverted places. The head of his cock was flushed and leaking. A single silver barbell protruded from the head of his cock. He lifted my hips and slid a pillow underneath me. 

“You on the pill?” He asked, popping open the cap to a bottle of lube. 

“Yes.” I watched him slide the lube over his cock. 

“Good, cause I don’t have any condoms.”

He pushed one of my knees to my chest. His hand guided his cock to my entrance. With his eyes locked onto me, he slowly pushed inside of me. It burned, almost felt stabbing. I clenched my jaw and gripped his wrist. His hips halted. 

“You okay?” His thumb gently stroked my knee with a tenderness that drew my attention away from the pain. 

“It hurts,” I said through my teeth. 

“We can stop-”

“Please keep going,” I interrupted. He stared at me with wide eyes. With a nod, he pushed forward. 

The stabbing pain faded into a more manageable cramping pain. I felt undeniably full. He let go of my leg, instead moving to my stomach to gently stroke my skin. He whispered praises as he sunk deeper inside me. My brows knit as he bottomed out. His hips stilled, eyes fixated on my cunt. 

“That’s it, bein’ so good for me.” He groaned. I clenched around his cock, earning a grunt from his heaving chest. 

“Simon, please move,” I crossed my ankles behind his back. 

He shifted his weight onto his hands, placing them on either side of my head. 

“Since you asked so nicely…”

He began thrusting his hips into me at a steady pace. Every jolt of his hips made the mattress squeal beneath us. The sound of our skin slapping echoed throughout the room. He was rough and forceful, bullying his cock deeper into me. 

His moans were deep and gravely. Every little noise that came out of him sounded like music. I hooked my arms around the back of his neck, pulling him down to my level. His lips clashed against mine, tongue licking against my bottom lip. I parted my lips for him. A moan slipped from me as he slid his tongue into my mouth. 

Tears welled in my eyes as the stimulation grew. I wanted more, needed more of him. I bit down on his lip and pulled back, tugging his skin. Something changed in him then. He pulled away and gripped onto the headboard, using the leverage to thrust harder into me. His eyes screwed shut. I could feel him twitch from inside me. 

I Clenched around his cock, stomach tensing as my third orgasm rapidly approached. He gripped my chin between his fingers.

“Fuck, you gonna cum?” He asked with his plush lips parted. 

My response was an incoherent mess of words and a frantic nod. His thumb went to my clit. He rubbed tight circles into my skin, encouraging me to cum, begging even. I knew he wouldn’t last long with the way his thrusts grew erratic. 

With a snap of his hips, I came on his cock, squeezing around him. He grunted, stilling inside me as he came. A stream of moans rose from my throat.

My body felt tingly like tv static as every nerve in my body fired. I felt overstimulated, hot, and sore. I whined as he pulled out. The bed shook as he collapsed onto his side. 

He grabbed his phone from the nightstand and held the screen out to me. It was a “new contact” page. I smirked as I put my number in under the contact labeled “Derek”

“Derek…who are you gonna tell them I am when that name pops up on your screen?” I asked, swinging my leg over his hips.

“Old coworker.” He said with a laugh. 

“Old coworker with bomb pussy?” I raised my eyebrows and pouted, scanning his face for a reaction. He smiled and leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to my lips. 

“Audrey’s going on vacation with her mom in a couple weeks. Why don’t you come over then?” He ran his hand along my back. 

“I’d love to, but speaking of which, I need to get back.” I sat up, grabbing my shorts from the foot of the bed. 

I threw my clothes on and hastily tossed my sweat soaked hair into an updo. My fingers grasped the doorknob, gently pulling it open. I waved at Simon before slipping into the hall. As the door closed behind me I sighed.

My brain replayed every minute of our interaction over and over again. The way he touched me with care, got off on eating me out, and checked in on me. What seemed to be basic decency was something I’d been lacking. My stomach fluttered as I thought of seeing him in a couple of weeks. I didn’t regret this, in fact I wanted more of this. 

What did I get myself into.

Masterlist

[fourthemarauders]

THE MARAUDERS ERA CHARACTERS DURING THE PURGE (Muggle au)

1. Sirius Black

THRIVING. He's been planning for this since he was 13. Puts on eyeliner and a leather jacket, grabs a baseball bat with spikes (named “Family Trauma”), and blasts “Highway to Hell” as he drives a stolen motorcycle around, screaming, “ANARCHYYYYY.” Ends up freeing a bunch of dogs from a shelter and forming a Purge Pack™.

2. James Potter

Thinks it's a neighborhood prank. Shows up at Remus’ door like, “Mate, did you hear they’re doing one of those fake apocalypse things?” Five minutes later he’s hiding under the kitchen table yelling, “I’M TOO HANDSOME TO DIE!” Accidentally survives because no one wants to hurt him. He’s that likable.

3. Remus Lupin

Locked himself in a reinforced bunker with a spreadsheet, three panic buttons, and a collection of emotionally devastating books. He's ready. He’s calm. He's prepped. Unfortunately, he invited Sirius over for “safety,” and now his living room is on fire. Again.

4. Peter Pettigrew

Thought he would be the sneaky survivor, but he's the guy on TV tied to a lamppost with a “RAT” sign taped to his back. Honestly? Pete? Again?

5. Lily Evans

Built a trap system around her flat like she’s in Home Alone but rated R. Molotov cocktails? Check. Electrified doorknobs? Check. A bat labeled “Smash the Patriarchy”? Also check. She livestreams the whole night and gains 300k followers. She’s an icon.

6. Marlene McKinnon

Out on the streets with brass knuckles, hoop earrings, and zero fear. She’s not purging anyone; she’s hunting down people who are purging and just wrecking them. Vigilante queen. The city fears her more than the purge itself.

7. Dorcas Meadowes

Already in camo, face painted, and repurposing IKEA furniture into deadly weapons. She sends “Don’t worry, I got this” texts and is never seen again… until the morning after, walking home with blood on her boots and an iced coffee.

8. Mary Macdonald

Throws a massive “Purge-Eve” party with a dress code and glitter bombs. Absolutely everyone forgets it’s Purge Night until 11:59 p.m. She barricades the doors with bar carts and they all wait it out sipping Prosecco and insulting each other’s trauma.

9. Regulus Black

Locked in his mansion stress-knitting and arguing with his Roomba. Keeps muttering, “This is so beneath me.” Has a wall of weapons he never uses. Accidentally purges someone by dropping a bust of Caesar on them. Feels guilty for years.

10. Barty Crouch Jr.

Living his best life. Has a customized Purge playlist, a trench coat, and probably teeth he stole from someone. It’s a hobby. Spends the night quoting Shakespeare and chasing hedge fund bros with an axe.

11. Evan Rosier

Just vibing. Wearing a tuxedo and sipping wine while watching the city burn from his penthouse window. Occasionally tosses a molotov cocktail for fun. He’s not part of the Purge, he curates it.

12. Severus Snape

Swears he’s “not participating,” but mysteriously shows up at three different crime scenes holding a wand he insists is just “a stick.” Probably makes someone cry using only a five-word insult. Accidentally becomes a cult leader.

13. Sybill Trelawney

Announces 43 different doomsday prophecies. One of them is somehow weirdly accurate. She spends the night burning incense, reading tea leaves, and summoning spirits. No one touches her because she terrifies them.

14. Pandora rosier

Genuinely thinks it’s a celebration. Dresses like a disco ball, releases glitter-filled pigeons, and builds a peace circle in the middle of the street. Somehow untouched. No one knows how. Not even the Purge dares touch Pandora.

[j-august]

June was dying among the roses, the hedges were darkening to a duller green; the blatancy of red brick sprawled along the highway was a reminder that the present builds inexorably over the empty fields of the past.

Dorothy L. Sayers, Gaudy Night

[andhumanslovedstories]

Also. David Boreanaz might be capable of acting but he hasn’t demonstrated it yet on this rewatch. (I am hedging this statement only because I vaguely remember him being much better on his own show once he’s allowed to do things like have a personality that isn’t entirely about being sad and obsessing about a 16 year old. But hey, that could be pure nostalgia talking.) He’s better as Angelus than he is as Angel, in the way that a bicycle is generally better transportation than a unicycle, but you still shouldn’t take it out on the highway. It reminds me of The Hunger Games movies where you have this amazing cast of adult actors and also Liam Hemsworth is there. Yknow? Like sometimes Angel is in a big emotional scene with Buffy and Giles, and those two are giving it their fucking all, and then it cuts to David Boreanaz looking like he’s his own stand-in just reading the script so the real actors have something to react to. It’s brutal. This fact alone should have settled the Bangel v. Spuffy debates.

[leapingbadger]

When You Least Expect It - Chapter 24

Summary: Obi Wan and Cody enjoy their final day together before Cody's long trip home.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/65696911/chapters/173397655

Cody was booked on a marathon flight back to New Zealand the day after next. Jango had come out of the surgery okay, although they were keeping him for a few days before he’d be sent home to recuperate and start physical therapy. Cody would arrive just in time to escort his dad home.

“We shouldn’t have used the gift certificates. Not for this.” Cody groused as he threw clothes in a suitcase.

“I’m not entirely sure how we’d afford a last-minute ticket without them, my love.” Obi Wan replied thoughtfully. Cody sighed again but didn’t say anything else. “I, um, took the day off tomorrow, I thought perhaps we could spend the day together, before you leave.” Obi Wan said, bashfully.

Cody’s eyes looked sad as he sat among his possessions on the floor. “I’d love that, but I  think I have to work. You know, get Wolffe up to speed...”

“I…um…I actually spoke to Wolffe. He said he could handle it tomorrow, if you wanted to….” Obi Wan trailed off. He tried to keep his voice even. If Cody would prefer to work then he didn’t want to sway him, but he couldn’t imagine only having a few hours left with him for at least three weeks.

They had hedged their bets when booking the tickets. Hoping that Jango would be on the mend enough for Cody to come home before the babies were born. There was no guarantee, of course, but it was what they both wanted and only time would tell.

Cody pursed his lips, a smile twisting on them. “If Wolffe’s okay with it, I’m all yours, babe.” He said with a grin.

Obi Wan lit up and leaned down. “Thank you, love. Hopefully you’ll enjoy what I have planned.”

“Is it a day spent in the bedroom, covered in whipped cream?” Cody asked, his eyebrows raised suggestively.

Obi Wan threw his head back and laughed. “Perhaps that can be dessert.” He suggested.

***

Obi Wan felt a strange flutter or nerves as they got ready the next morning. He wasn’t entirely sure why. Perhaps it was the prospect of facing daily life without Cody. Thay had rarely been apart since October and after so many years alone, the void Cody had filled in his life was impossible to overstate.

Or perhaps it was his choice of outing. There were many things they could have done, and spending the day in bed with Cody had certainly crossed his mind. But he wanted to give his fiancé an experience, one that would keep his heart full until he could return. Perhaps he was being overly sentimental, but he hoped Cody would appreciate the effort at any rate.

They dropped Anakin and Ahsoka off at school before heading on the freeway. As with their museum date all those many months before, Obi Wan kept the destination a secret, hoping Cody wouldn’t figure it out before they pulled up. It was a pleasant day, if a little grey. The threat of rain hung over them but Obi Wan was too excited to care.

“Should I be nervous that you’re going to lock me away somewhere so I can’t leave?” Cody asked after thirty minutes in the car.

Obi Wan chuckled. “If I was going to lock you anywhere to keep you from leaving Cody, it would be the bedroom.”

Cody smiled and took hold of Obi Wan’s hand. “I really am going to miss you. I know it’s for the best for Dad, but…yeah…it’s gunna be hard.”

“I know.” Obi Wan said, not taking his eyes off the road but pulling Cody’s hand to his and kissing his knuckles. “But we will get through it.” He said with a smile.

Cody stroked Obi Wan’s hair out of his face, his hand lingering behind his head and gently petting him.

When they finally pulled off the highway Obi Wan started to feel nervous again. They drove down some narrow country roads and turned up a treelined driveway. Obi Wan noticed Cody’s eyes sharpen as he sat up, his eyes tracing the grounds as an enormous mansion came into view.

“You’re kidding.” He said, a wide grin spreading on his face.

“I see you recognize it.” Obi Wan mused playfully.

“Obi Wan, you’re kidding.” Cody said excitedly. “It’s the…” he grabbed his phone, leafed through his apps and pulled up a picture. “It’s the place from the wedding website.” He said, shoving the phone in Obi Wan’s face as he tried to find a parking space.

He laughed, the anxiety fading with Cody’s reaction. “I know, love. That’s why we’re here.” He said as he put the car in park and looked at him. “I thought perhaps it was time we looked at one of the placed you liked in person.”

Cody’s eyes softened as he leaned over, grabbing Obi Wan by the shirt and pulling him into a deep kiss. As always, Obi Wan gave himself over full heartedly.

The house was laid out with stables to the right and a garage for the former occupants’ collection of luxury cars. The house itself was a stately manor from the English countryside that had been taken apart brick by brick and reassembled stateside by a family whose money knew no bounds. Ivy climbed up the brick facia as the building jutted out into the sky, ornate pillars and stained-glass windows giving it the appearance of something out of a fairytale.

Obi Wan watched Cody as they approached hand in hand. “I can’t believe you did this.” Cody said, pulling  Obi Wan towards him before the crossed the threshold.

The inside was just as grand, opening up into a large foyer, an elaborately carved wooden staircase sweeping upwards.

They met their tour guide. An older women with sever features whose smile didn’t reach her eyes. Her grey hair was pulled into an old-fashioned bun, kept in place with a hat pin. Obi Wan wasn’t entirely sure if it was for the aesthetic of the place or her own preference.

She took them through the house, explaining the life of the family who had purchased the house from a down on his luck Count in the 1920s. Cody tugged on his arm like a child in a toy shop as they made their way through the house, pointing out places they could take pictures. Obi Wan hummed his encouragement, just pleased to see Cody so happy. Once the tour was finished, they were given a booklet with pricing details and sent on their way.

Obi Wan had arranged for them to have lunch in the dining room, a three-course meal while surrounded by sorority groups and the occasional baby shower. Cody sat opposite him as their drinks arrived and grinned.

“You really are amazing for this.” He said, his eyes cast up to the carved plaster ceiling. Little cherubs looked down on them from on high and Obi Wan couldn’t help but find it a little creepy. Still, Cody was happy enough and that was all that mattered.

“I’m just please you’re pleased.” Obi Wan said, almost choking on his beer as he looked at the pricing.

Cody’s face caught at his reaction. “Oh God, don’t tell me. How many organs do I have to sell for us to afford this?” he asked cautiously.

“Well, the good news is that it wouldn’t just be you selling them.” Obi Wan said, a grimace on his face.

Cody laughed. “Ah well, this has been a lovely day anyway.” He said with a shrug as he took a sip of his beer.

“If you want it, we can make it work.” Obi Wan said. “I could pick up some tutoring jobs. We could try and save up. We might not be able to afford it for this Fall, but maybe next.” He said hopefully.

Cody reached over the table and took his hand. “I don’t want us going into debt for one day. And like you say. I’ll marry you anywhere. Although I would really prefer if it wasn’t a McDonalds parking lot.” He said with a grin.

Obi Wan sighed. “I’m never going to get my fry bouquet.” He said in mock distress.

Cody ignored him. “Besides. I really like the idea of marrying you this Fall. In fact, I insist on it.”

Obi Wan leaned forward, his eyebrows raised in amusement. “You insist? Why Mr. Fett, how I do love it when you take charge.” He said as his eyes twinkled.

“Oh?”

“Oh, come now, Cody. That can’t be a surprise. You practically seduced me into a first date in my kitchen.”

“I would have seduced you into more than that if your brother hadn’t shown up.” Cody said.

Obi Wan choked on his beer and spluttered into his salad.

“So convinced are you that I’m a slut?” Obi Wan said with a grin. Cody raised a curious eyebrow and remained silent. “Fine.” Obi Wan said with an eyeroll. “You were about three minutes from having me on the Kitchen floor. Happy.” He said, crossing his arms.

Cody laughed out loud, garnering scowls from the pregnant lady on the corner of the room who was unwrapping a baby bath.

“The house is empty. I could have you on the kitchen floor now if you wanted.”

Obi Wan smiled. “We have to eat, love.” He said exasperatedly gesturing to their food, a chuckle emanating from his throat.

“Oh, I was planning on it, Obi Wan.”

This time Obi Wan couldn’t stop the beer form shooting out of his mouth, a laugh so jubilant erupting from him he could barely breathe. Cody followed suit and soon they were almost falling off their chairs as their laughter gave way to a case of the giggles.

The rest of their food came in quick succession and Obi Wan was convinced they were trying to get rid of them. He didn’t mind. The place was far too stuffy for them, even if they had been able to afford it.

Still, they had decided on an Autumn wedding and narrowed down a couple of dates which seemed to make Cody feel better about leaving.

***

They stopped by  Wolffe’s on the way home. Ostensibly to pick up a couple of things but Obi Wan knew the brothers just wanted an opportunity to see Cody before he left.  He tried to hang back as they talked, but Cody surreptitiously kept close to Obi Wan at all times, his hand tucked in Obi Wan’s back pocket possessively.

“Jesus, Cody. Don’t worry, we’ll take care of him while you’re gone.” Wolffe said with a grin as he hung off Obi Wan’s shoulder.

“I’m not sure I find that as comforting as you think.” Cody said with an eyeroll.

“Ah, come on. It’ll be over in no time, and you can regale us with stories of home.” Bly said wistfully.

Obi Wan could tell Cody’s wasn’t convinced but had already made the commitment to go. He was quiet as they made their way to the school and then home. It was unfortunate that so much of the evening was spent on cooking, cleaning and getting ready for the next day. Even with Anakin and Ahsoka more than capable of taking care of themselves, it was gone ten before they finally made it to the bedroom.

Cody was quiet as he started to put the final things in his hand luggage and zipped it up. Obi Wan had noticed Cody withdraw by the minute as the trip seemed to weigh on him.

“You’ve got your tickets, and your passport, and your…”

“Yes.” Cody said morosely, before adjusting his tone. “Sorry. Yes. I have it all.” He said, his shoulders slumped despite his best efforts.

“I know this isn’t what you want, my love.” Obi Wan said swiftly, sitting next to him on the floor and, “but I’m incredibly proud of you for going anyway.” He said with a nudge.

Cody chuckled and leaned his head on his shoulder. “it’s going to feel like a lifetime.” Cody said solemnly.

“It’s going to go by in a flash.” Obi Wan said with a grin and he snapped his fingers. “And you’ll get to see your dad and your Mum. Maybe you’ll be able to figure out what’s really going on with them and report back.”

Cody laughed, “I’m not sure we’ll ever figure that out.” He sighed and ran his hand through his hair distractedly. “Maybe if you were coming too.” Cody said, burying his face in Obi Wan’s neck.

Obi Wan closed his eyes and let him stay there, lingering in his touch as he contemplated how lost he would feel without him. He didn’t share that, didn’t spill that secret as they sat enveloped in the floor, it would only make it harder for Cody to leave. Still, even on the nights he knew the house would seem top empty and the bed to bare, he would be able to think back to the moment, and that was something.

He was aware of how silly this all was. It was temporary, not even a month, but the absence of someone who had become so integral to your existence was alarming. He hadn’t had that since his father was alive, to have it again and to lose it, even temporarily, was noteworthy.

“Thank you for today. For making it special.” Cody whispered, his hot breath on Obi Wan’s neck.

“Well, we didn’t secure a place but at least we know what we don’t want.” Obi Wan said with a shrug and a smile.

Cody lifted his head, his gaze soft as he took into Obi Wan’s eyes. He always seemed to gaze at him, just like he had those may months ago in the office. “We’ll have to get on it as soon as I get back, otherwise we might not…”

“We’ll worry about that later, my love.” Obi Wan said softly, brushing his hand gently over the scar of his forehead. “We’ll have more than enough…”

Whatever Obi Wan was going to say was cut off by Cody colliding with him. Obi Wan chuckled as his fiancé bowled him over, sending him backwards over a mountain of clothes as other necessities.

“Perhaps we should get you packed first, love.” He mused as Cody started to trail kisses down his neck as his hands started to wander with enthusiasm.

“I can pack a pair of jeans and some underwear and be fine.” Cody said dismissively. “We need to make this last as long as possible.” He said, seemingly paying attention to every nook and cranny he could find as he methodically removed Obi Wan’s clothes piece by piece.

“Cody, you only have ten hours before you need to leave for your flight.” Obi Wan interjected halfheartedly as he lay naked from the chest up and Cody wrestled with his belt. “Surely you…”

Once again, Cody’s lips were on his, sucking the air and the rest of his question from his mouth. “I’ll have hours to sleep on the plane. I’m going to spend as long as possible making sure you know how much I’m going to miss you and just how loved you are.” He said, his teeth racking across his jaw.

“Well, that certainly seems like a more enjoyable routine that the one I was going to suggest.” Obi Wan said with a laugh. “But I must remark that you are wearing decidedly too may clothes for this endeavor.”

“Oh? Well, perhaps you could help me with that, Mr. Kenobi.”

Obi Wan grinned, “Well, far be it for me to shirk from my duty, Mr. Fett.” Obi Wan said.

“God, you’re finally seeing sense.” Cody said jubilantly with a grin, a chuckle tickling his throat as his fingers continued to go to work.

***

Obi Wan woke with the start of an alarm. It was blaring noisily at five am, something he wasn’t entirely sure it had ever done before. He blinked up at the ceiling ,enjoying the feeling of Cody’s heavy arm around his waist.

They had fallen into bed a couple of hours ago after what Obi Wan could only describe as a herculean effort the likes of which they had never accomplished before.  Safe to say the resulting fugue of sex, lust, devotion and love was so thick Obi Wan would be living off it for weeks, perhaps even until Cody returned home.

He turned to his left, enjoying the weight of his lover’s body, the curve of his chest, the gentle groans that escaped as he knew he had to get up.

“It’s time, my love.” Obi Wan whispered gently, tracing his fingers gently down Cody’s face.

“Five more minutes and I’ll be ready to go again.” He said huffily, pulling Obi Wan closer and tracking his lips down his shoulder without opening his eyes.

“No love, we have to leave. We’ve got to get you to the airport.”

Cody’s mood soured as he opened his eyes and turned his head to meet Obi Wan’s. “You know this is perhaps one of your stupidest ideas ever, babe.” He said in one mumbled syllable as he pulled him closer.

Obi Wan chuckled. “I’m sure I’ll be paying for it in more ways that one when you return, now come on.” he said with a warm kiss, before getting up.

The house was still dark and cold as they made their way to the car. Obi Wan would be back in more than enough time to change and head to school with Anakin and Ahsoka.

“Be sure to tell them I said goodbye,” Cody said as he heaved his luggage into the car. Despite his best efforts, all the gifts from his brothers meant he would have to check a bag.

“I’ll be sure to let them know.” Obi Wan said calmly as he made his way to the driver’s side.

The trip to the airport was quicker than usual, despite the stop for coffee. The lingered in the drop off line, under the watchful gaze of a policeman who surely should have better things to do than watch them make out in public.

“I’ll message you as soon as I can.” Cody said, his body pressing into Obi Wan and he leaned into the car.

“I’ll check my phone as soon as I can.” Obi Wan said between breathless kisses.

“I’m gunna miss you so much it’s crazy.” Cody said quietly, his mouth whispering in the places his lips could no longer reach.

“And I you, my love.” Obi Wan said, his hands tracing gentle waves around his face.

“God, why is this so hard?” Cody said, collapsing into Obi Wan’s arms and burying his face in his neck.

“Because we love each other.” Obi Wan said simply, planting a soft kiss on his temple.

“Hmm. I suppose.” Cody said with a smile. “Wear this every day.” He said, pulling out the green pendant from under Obi Wan’s sweater.

“And you wear this.” Obi Wan said with a grin, swirling the engagement ring on his right hand.

They grinned and kissed one final time, the kind of kiss that left an indelible mark that only the other could see.

Cody finally gained the strength to stand back, offering a final chaste kiss before wheeling his bag inside. Obi Wan watched him go until he couldn’t see him anymore.

He took a deep breath and got back in the car under the careful watch of the policeman.

Before he could even start the engine, his phone chirped. That cop is a real perve! I love you, Obi Wan Kenobi. More than I can possibly say.

Obi Wan laughed and turned around to see the cop still watching him. I think you’re right about that. I can’t wait for you to return, my love. I love you and I’ll be waiting for you until you do. XX

Obi Wan took one final look into the airport before putting his car into drive and leaving Cody behind.

[relia-robot-writes]

I was watching the trailer for Crescent County and thinking about witches, changelings, and lesbians, and, well, here we are.

Ivy hopped off her broom and leaned it against the outer wall of Kina's apartment. She tucked her goggles into the pocket of her leather jacket, held her pointed hat in both hands, and took a deep breath as she ascended the stairs.

"I should have come sooner..." Too melodramatic. "Hey, Kina, can we talk?" Too anxiety inducing. "Kina! Hey! Listen..." No. "I apologize for my actions..." Ugh, She sounded like a corporate stooge. Ivy felt the envelope in her pocket. She'd tried to write out how she felt, in case she chickened out and couldn't say anything. But that'd be almost worse.

Kina's door. Ivy closed her eyes, straightened her back, and knocked on the door.

No response. Ivy opened one eye.

The door was open.

She pushed her way inside. "Kina?" She called. The apartment was nearly empty, save for a small envelope with Kina's delicate handwriting on top - "to Ivy."

Ivy picked it up and started to read it. Her eyes went wide as she scanned down the page. Phrases jumped out at her; "by the time you read this," "I can't be here anymore," "back where I belong." Ivy dropped the letter and bolted out the door and down the stairs, as the fading sunlight fell on the last words - "goodbye, Ivy."

No way. She got to her broom and ran alongside it, trying to kickstart it. The thaumic engine caught, and she jumped on, hands rigid on the handle. No way! The engine roared as she channeled magic into it and she barreled into the street, forcing a car to swerve and stomp on the brakes and horn as she skidded through the air out onto the road. No WAY! She couldn't let it end like this!

She wove in and out of traffic, pushing the broom's engine to its limits. Her eyes streamed until she risked a hand off the controls, plunging into her pocket and stretching the goggles over her head, barely holding onto her hat as she sped down the highway to the Hedge.

Sirens sounded behind her. The cops were the last thing she needed right now. She checked her mirrors, licked her lips, and kicked the broom nearly vertical. The engine roared, and she gave the red-and-blue lights a cheeky salute as she boosted upwards, barely skipping off the concrete divide and onto the freeway.

Going the wrong way, but what can you do?

She landed heavily, boots skidding along the asphalt for a moment, knuckles inches from being sanded away. Gradually, she lifted up from the ground and made her way across the freeway, only to be cut off by a speeding Ferrari. She didn't have time to go around, so she went over, close enough to see the driver's irate face as she planted a boot right on the hood to help her gain altitude. She landed on the correct side of the freeway this time, her leg feeling like it had tried to kick a brick wall that hated her.

The sun broke through the glass and steel of the downtown skyscrapers. It was almost completely down, painting the sky in brilliant colors. She gritted her teeth and gunned the engine even harder, stretching her magic for every ounce of speed available to her, throwing herself flat against the broom for less resistance. She sped past trucks, skimmed over cars already going 30 over the limit, wove between deadlocked traffic. Anything to get there before Kina left. She couldn't let her go without saying her piece.

The last few months flashed through her mind like the faces in the cars she passed. Meeting Kina for the first time. Introducing her to her motorbroom friends. Kina's constant insecurity. Her feeling that she didn't belong in the human world. The late night talks, gazing up at the stars. The broom rides, with Kina holding on tightly as Ivy whooped, the wind in their hair. Kina's growing fears and anxieties. Hands held tight, warm and soft.

The argument.

Ivy had stormed out, kicked her broom on and flown away. She hadn't checked in on Kina for a week. She'd meant to, but the things she'd said... she hadn't known how to take them back. Her friends had told her Kina was getting worse, but this...

It's her choice, thought Ivy, the sun reflecting off her goggles onto the metal freeway fence flickering beside her, but I'll be damned if I let her go without at least trying to talk to her. The Hedge came into view, and Ivy gunned it for the exit.

---

Kina hopped off Birch's bike, and untied her small suitcase from the back. Birch popped her bubblegum. "You sure about this? It's not too late to turn around."

Kina felt so small beneath her gaze, the witch's black hat and fishnet shirt over a ratty metal band shirt and black jeans contrasting sharply with Kina's simple earth-toned outfit. She looked elsewhere, at the great wooden edifice of the Hedge, the sunlight almost right for the portal to open. "I'm sure," she said, in a small voice. "Nobody here cares about me anyway."

Birch's face twisted into an unreadable expression. "I wouldn't have given you a ride here if I didn't care about you, girl."

"That's not..."

Birch sighed. "Guess I can't talk you out of it." She checked her phone, tapped out a message on it, and stuck it back in her pocket. "Come back and visit sometime, huh?"

Kina mumbled something noncommittal, grabbed her suitcase, and walked towards the portal. It wouldn't be too long before it activated, and she'd be free of this world.

Birch checked her phone again. "Goddamn it, Ivy, where are you?"

---

Ivy could see the living wood portal off the road to the right, and the sun was almost set - she could see the shimmers of magic, the world on the other side struggling to make itself present.

She saw Kina.

She skidded off the ramp and rammed the gates, breaking through the magical wood with a flaming boot. She sped past another broom-user - Birch? No time to worry about that, although she whooped and waved her hat at Ivy as she passed.

Kina stood in front of the portal, on a simple dirt pathway through the grass. The sun sank, and suddenly the portal sparked into place, the eternal twilight of the fey lands matching the twilight on Ivy's side. Kina hesitated, then began to step through.

"No!!" Ivy reached for more reserves, and suddenly found them empty. Her broom hit the ground at speed, flinging Ivy off it. Sky and ground intermixed, her goggles shattered on an unseen rock, and she felt a snap in her left arm. She found herself on the ground, the air knocked out of her lungs, as Kina reached towards the barrier between worlds.

And a familiar-looking envelope flew into her hands. One labeled "To Kina."

Ivy frantically patted the pocket of her jacket, finding it empty as Kina opened the envelope and began to read, one foot through the portal. Ivy tried to push herself up, but just collapsed again. She gritted her teeth and heaved, finally making it to her feet. Just in time for Kina to finish reading, to turn and stare at Ivy.

A million things flashed through Ivy's head to say, as Kina held her gaze, but the only thing she was able to blurt out was, "Don't go!"

Kina startled at that, holding the letter close to her chest.

"Don't go. Please." Ivy held her broken arm and pretended the tears on her face were from pain. "I'd miss you."

Kina broke eye contact. "I'm... a mess. I don't belong here. I can't do anything right." She began to cry in earnest. "I don't... I don't deserve to be here!"

"Screw that!" Shouted Ivy, limping closer. "Fuck deserving anything! I never should have said any of that! I'll miss you! I want you to stay! I know that's selfish, and I don't care!!" she took a breath, only a few feet away now. "Please. Stay." She couldn't look at Kina's eyes, focusing on her chin instead, watching tears fall from it.

They stood there for a moment. The portal behind Kina shimmered. She turned to go, and Ivy suppressed a sob, squeezing her eyes shut.

And then a moment later found herself tackled by the small changeling. The portal behind her closed, and Ivy encircled Kina with her good arm, both of them holding each other close.

---

Birch dropped the magic that had guided Ivy's letter to Kina's hand, and went to go pick up Ivy's broom. She flicked a tear from the corner of her eye. Those gay idiots.

[seat-safety-switch]

Brakes are a safety item, now? Let me tell you about safety. Nearly one hundred percent of cars that crash are using the brakes in the moments leading up to impact. That sounds pretty dangerous to me.

Even though there have been centuries of advancement in the field of brakes, it still ultimately boils down to one thing. You are using one slightly soft rock to stop a larger, harder rock from turning. Back in the day, they could do this approximately once. Any successive attempt to stop would be met with a "not today, bud," but more polite, English, and cut off at the end by plowing through a hedge, bank, or tire wall.

Improvements abounded, however, and the modern hydraulic disc brake system has advanced stopping power that the ancient racecars of even a decade ago would be shitting their pants to have. Everyone on my commute knows this. And they're so proud of their brakes that they use them all the time. Merging. Driving in the left lane. Going downhill. Going uphill. A quinceañera. There is simply no traffic occasion that doesn't merit a stiff jab of the whoa pedal, buying them just enough time for their brains to start working again before lapsing back into the microwaving-a-potato 60hz hum of modern life.

As for me, I've never taken brakes for granted. Once you've done enough sketchy shit to make sure they still work – and especially once you've had a few blown lines or ejected shoes at highway speed – you want to avoid using the hill outside the Mayor's house as your emergency braking system if at all possible. This is only aided by the fact that my car's engine is not exactly capable of Ferrari-like acceleration, unless that Ferrari is currently parked. Like the astronauts of Apollo 13, I need to save all the momentum that I can get, or I won't get to work on time. Or ever.

So the next time you push down the middle pedal (it is the middle pedal in your car, right?) say a silent thanks to the inventor of brakes, whoever it is, and then get ready to cuss out the guy in front of you for slamming on his brakes for no goddamn reason it's fucking dry as a bone and sunny you idiot are you slowing down for ducks or some shit learn to read the road signs do not use big words.

[the-chosen-fanfiction]

John the Apostle | Thunder Blues | Platonic

Dialogue prompt: “Are you serious right now?"

Requested: Yes

When the younger Son of Thunder is upset that he has to stay behind in Capernaum to wait for Simon, you comfort him, reassuring that Jesus knows best.

The Apostles have gathered at Jesus’ behest. Sitting next to John, you watch both Andrew and Philip as they reveal that their ministry has brought more harm than good in the Decapolis. 

Jesus, across from the two, nods in understanding as they conclude their rather distressing story.

“Aha… And… What was your strategy to clarify it?”

Philip takes a sharp breath. “Well, we uh… We told, uhm…” 

“We-We-We tried to… Uh, to tell one of Your parables.” Andrew stutters. It is clear that both of them feel embarrassed. 

“Parables! Good!” Jesus praises, “That’s what I would have done.”

“Which parable?”

Philip clears his throat. “The… The Banquet.”

“You know, the one where guests give excuses not to come and so, everyone else gets invited.”

Next to you, John huffs in disbelief. “You chose the Banquet?” You put a hand on his arm, trying to push him back into his seat, trying to not escalate the situation. You know that the two feel humiliated enough as is by coming clean about their troubled mission.

“People get upset by that one.” Nathanael adds.

“Of course they do.” Jesus hums, but there is no hint of accusation in His voice. 

Andrew lets out an anxious noise: “Well, if it makes you feel any better, we first considered the Wheat and the Tares but… We thought better of it.”

“I already told you,” Jesus patiently explains, “Some people wouldn’t understand that parable.”

“I’m not even sure I understand the Wheat and the Tares.” Thomas adds. You give him an understanding look.

Jesus lets out a soft chuckle and winks. “Give it time.”

Philip sighs. “The problem is that they did understand the parable and it caused fights in the street–”

“Rioting.” Andrew emphasises. “Between Jews and Gentiles.”

Jesus lets out a soft hum as Philip carries on. “Leander has told us it’s getting worse every day. The prominent Hellenistic priest has changed his ways, which is good, but… When he abdicated his duties as priest and leader, others tried to fill the void, and so projects are going undone and people are just angry, and blaming each other for everything.”

Next to you, John has a concerned look over his features. You put a hand on his arm and gently squeeze, at which he smiles a bit wistfully at you. 

“It led to stealing,” Andrew says, “Fights in the streets… Many people are actually leaving their homes to escape the violence.” The final part of his sentence is a whisper. You can sense the shame he feels. 

Big James stands with his arms crossed. “That’s the violence You suggest sending us into?” 

Brief silence fills the room as all eyes turn to Jesus. “What part of the parable caused this fight to break out?”

“The people outside the city.” Philip answers. “The ones on the highways and the hedges, the last to be invited and the last to accept the invitation.”

Jesus draws a sharp breath. “That’s what I suspected.”

John leans forward. “Speaking of which - the highways and the hedges - does that actually refer to Gentiles?” 

A deep sigh leaves the Messiah. “He who has ears to hear, let him hear. We leave in the morning. Everyone go home and gather your things. We take to the highways and hedges before dawn.” 

The Disciples go to stand, and next to you, John still looks worried. As Jesus speaks to comfort Philip and Andrew, you whisper in John’s direction. 

“Hey, you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m just… Thinking.” he mutters. “How this might affect our ministry. What it might mean for us. If we must fight, then so be it. We’ve got strong men on our side who would be strong and capable in battle. I’m certain we’ll be able to snuff out this riot before it escalates even further.” 

Before you can reply that you don’t feel like the Messiah is aiming at such an approach, Jesus gets up from His seat, grabbing a few empty cups. “John, may I have a word?”

John picks up his head and looks up at his Teacher. “Yes, Rabbi.” He gives you a small smile as he gets up, and you nod at him. 

“Good luck, okay? I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“Of course. Shalom, (Y/n), have a good night.”

“Sleep well, John. Shalom shalom.”

As you watch him head after Jesus, Who is currently rinsing out the cups, you let out a sigh. Being John’s childhood friend, you know better than anyone of his oftentimes brash nature out of sheer passion and dedication. 

The soft look in Jesus’ eyes, however, ensures you that He will take care of things. You smile at Him and stand to leave the house and find your own instead, giving Him a nod in greeting.

He mirrors it and turns to John, giving the former fisherman a special task.

_

The next morning, you’re sitting at Matthew’s old place, spending some time with Mary and Tamar as they work on their small business.

“Perhaps you should stay behind with us.” Tamar muses, “Help us out here.”

You shift and shake your head, smiling. “And miss out on all the tension? Hm, I’ve got a feeling that this is going to be a pivotal moment. The last thing I want is to be left out.”

As other followers of Jesus come trickling in, you check your belongings one final time - an extra tunic, a full waterskin, and another pair of sandals. On the bottom of your bag sits a stale piece of bread, so you toss it out. 

“Jesus is here,” Nathanael loudly announces, “Time to go!” 

Everyone moves to the door, momentarily gathering outside the building, where Jesus is patiently waiting for everyone. You follow the group as one of the final people to leave, putting the strap of your bag over your shoulder, getting ready to leave.

Before exiting the building, however, you halt on the threshold, turning to look inside the house one last time. Upon noticing John pouting as he is leaned against the wall, you frown slightly.

“Hey, John. What is going on? Come on, we have to go.”

He huffs and crosses his arms over his chest even tighter. “I’m fine, (Y/n). You wouldn’t get it.”

Planting a hand on your hip, you approach him. “What are you on about? By the way, where is your bag?”

John clicks his tongue, barely looking at you, muttering something under his breath that you cannot quite understand. 

“Sorry, I didn’t catch that.” 

He sighs. “Jesus wants me to stay here in Capernaum so I could wait for Simon.”

“He still hasn’t showed up, then?”

John lets out an exasperated sound. “No, he obviously hasn’t! Which is what frustrates me so much!”

“Why?”

“Because I want to come, too!” He looks at you with an expression that is nothing short of frustrated. “Everyone is getting to go out there with Jesus and witness perhaps a massive turning point in this ministry, and I get waiting duty! I want to go, too! I am also part of this group! He calls me beloved, so I must be important enough to see it too, right? I can’t stand it.”

You watch him for a long moment, slightly narrowing your eyes in thought. “Are you serious right now?" you question, although there is no reproach in your tone.

John grows restless under your scrutiny, exhaling sharply. 

“What, are you going to judge me for that?”

Pursing your lips, you hum. “John, son of Zebedee. This is not about you.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” he snaps. 

In spite of his anger, you remain calm. “I’ve known you forever, John. You’re always so keen on staying in the loop of things, which is a great trait to have. You are inquisitive, passionate, eager to learn. I admire that about you, my friend.”

His expression softens. “Huh, thank you for your kind words. But what does that have to do with anything?”

You step closer, putting a hand on his arm to comfort him. “Jesus loves you. He loves all of us. This entire ministry, however, does not revolve around us. About what we see, or about what we do, or about what He does for us. It is about what He does for them.” You nod at the door behind you, “For the world out there. For those who are weary, and wounded, and in need of healing.”

You pause, sighing.

“I know that it is difficult to possibly not be there when something pivotal happens, but it is not a given that we get to witness every single thing that will happen for the glory of Adonai. Besides, a lot has to happen behind the scenes. If Jesus did not need you to be here to wait for Simon, He wouldn’t have asked you to.”

“Jesus said that the success of this mission depends on Simon.”

You smile. “See, there you have it. Jesus can use you in many ways, even if you are not directly at His side.”

John lets out a sigh and lowers his gaze. Regretful about his outburst, he folds his hands in front of him. “I know.”

“Our plans do not always match up with His plans, but you trust Him regardless, hm?”

“I do. More than anything.”

Nodding, you pat his shoulder in a friendly manner. “Then we should not always rely on our own understanding of a situation. You might not be satisfied that you have to wait now, but in the long run, that feeling will make sense, and you will be glad that you indeed waited for Simon.”

The wry smile on John’s face makes place for a brighter one. He tilts his face back up, smiling.

“I hadn’t thought of it this way yet, (Y/n). Thank you for your perspective, that was very meaningful, and I can now see the value a bit better of Jesus asking me to stay behind.” He sighs, his smile slightly shrinking. “Although I am still a bit upset, how can I not be? You guys are going to get to the Decapolis! I wish I could be there right with you!”

“But Simon is necessary for the success of this trip, according to Jesus. Trust Him in this, too. Completely, okay?”

John sighs and nods. “Okay.” he says, exhaling. “Okay.”

You smile, stepping away from him. “Good.” you say, “I will see you soon, okay?”

He hums in acknowledgement and gives you a small wave, appearing way more positive now. “Thank you for your words. Safe travels, (Y/n). We will see each other before we know it.”

Nodding kindly, you agree to what he said and head after the others, finding them just outside the house. Big James puffs out his cheeks as he sees you and lets air escape slowly, knowing that you had to deal with a pouting John. However, you give him a small smile in turn. 

“Things will be alright with John,” you reassure his older brother, “He just needed another perspective on things to see that the task Jesus gave him is valuable in and of itself.”

“That is good to hear, (Y/n),” Big James states as you walk together into the outskirts of the village, following the group of Disciples. “Plus,” he adds, “It means we won’t have to deal with his nagging for a few hours at least.”

Chuckling, you shake your head, knowing that John feels useless regardless of the importance of his task, and bump a fist against James’ shoulder. 

“Tch, as if you nag less than he does. That you two haven’t physically chatted my ears off at this point is a miracle to say the least.”

James rolls his eyes, but cannot fight the grin that spreads over his face. 

“Fine, it means you won’t have to deal with half of the nagging.”

[master-john-uk]

This is primarily due to car drivers losing patience with slower moving road users... and (from personal observation), motorists failing to reduce speed on narrow country roads with blind bends... even drivers who are familiar with the road!

There is one section of road near me between Westerham, Kent and Tatsfield, Surrey which is narrow with several blind bends. The trees and hedges are very close to the edge of the highway... which means drivers of large vehicles are forced to move out towards the middle of the road. Anyone who knows Clark's Lane will know this... but most still tend to drive as fast as they can, which makes it impossible for them to stop if there is a large vehicle coming the other way... Or a pedestrian/cyclist/horse rider in front of them!

This time of year is one of the worst for bad driving on all roads... which is why I hate the run-up to Christmas! Too many drivers are wrapped up in their own urgency to buy this, that and the other in order to make sure their family has a merry Christmas. They have no thought, or consideration for others. 'Tis the season of goodwill to ALL... unless you are in a rush to pick-up your children from school, buy presents, or collect your turkey!

[tymorasmiles]

[Timlan’s Tale, Chapter 4: Return, Part 4 - In the Shadows]

Timlan and their companions head on toward the palace to present the slippers and a report on Lydia’s location. They can just see the towers in the distance when they notice a small group trading something in the shadows of a side alley.

An elf in rich robes sees them come into view, grabs a small package from a hooded figure, and runs off down the alley, hissing, “There can be no witnesses!” The hooded figure stuffs away a pouch and throws a dagger at Cervoj.

With an attack of 23, the dagger slices his shoulder for 5 damage. Our party turns to defend themselves against three darklings. Watcher fires his shortbow at the leader. With an attack of 15, he does 1 point of damage and turns invisible.

Timlan attempts to cast Witch Bolt at the leader, but the crackling beam hits the hedge behind him. Cursing under their breath, they run back a bit to take some cover along the hedge.

The lead darkling runs up and stabs Cervoj with an attack roll of 17 and 5 damage again. The other two move so they can throw daggers. With a 17 and 7, one hits Cervoj for 7 damage and the other misses Aspen.

Timema shows herself to cast Confusion on the three darklings and then zips over to hide in the hedge. All three darklings pause for a moment, but two seem to shake off the effects of the spell. Worried, Aspen casts Barkskin on himself.

With an attack of 19, Cervoj slices at the darkling before him for 7 damage. Watcher rolls a 23 and hits the lead darkling with another arrow for 1 damage. Timlan steps out, fires an Eldritch Blast that misses, and steps back into the hedge.

The darkling leader stabs at Cervoj again, but with an attack of 12, the dagger is stopped by his armor. The confused darkling flanks her leader and attacks. With a 16 and 9, she literally stabs him in the back for 12 damage.

[Credits: Cobblestone Highway by @2minutetabletop; Goat icon by Chanut is Industries, Tree icon by Made by Made from The Noun Project]

[walkwithgod07]

14 And it came to pass, as he went into the house of one of the chief Pharisees to eat bread on the sabbath day, that they watched him.

2 And, behold, there was a certain man before him which had the dropsy.

3 And Jesus answering spake unto the lawyers and Pharisees, saying, Is it lawful to heal on the sabbath day?

4 And they held their peace. And he took him, and healed him, and let him go;

5 And answered them, saying, Which of you shall have an ass or an ox fallen into a pit, and will not straightway pull him out on the sabbath day?

6 And they could not answer him again to these things.

7 And he put forth a parable to those which were bidden, when he marked how they chose out the chief rooms; saying unto them.

8 When thou art bidden of any man to a wedding, sit not down in the highest room; lest a more honourable man than thou be bidden of him;

9 And he that bade thee and him come and say to thee, Give this man place; and thou begin with shame to take the lowest room.

10 But when thou art bidden, go and sit down in the lowest room; that when he that bade thee cometh, he may say unto thee, Friend, go up higher: then shalt thou have worship in the presence of them that sit at meat with thee.

11 For whosoever exalteth himself shall be abased; and he that humbleth himself shall be exalted.

12 Then said he also to him that bade him, When thou makest a dinner or a supper, call not thy friends, nor thy brethren, neither thy kinsmen, nor thy rich neighbours; lest they also bid thee again, and a recompence be made thee.

13 But when thou makest a feast, call the poor, the maimed, the lame, the blind:

14 And thou shalt be blessed; for they cannot recompense thee: for thou shalt be recompensed at the resurrection of the just.

15 And when one of them that sat at meat with him heard these things, he said unto him, Blessed is he that shall eat bread in the kingdom of God.

16 Then said he unto him, A certain man made a great supper, and bade many:

17 And sent his servant at supper time to say to them that were bidden, Come; for all things are now ready.

18 And they all with one consent began to make excuse. The first said unto him, I have bought a piece of ground, and I must needs go and see it: I pray thee have me excused.

19 And another said, I have bought five yoke of oxen, and I go to prove them: I pray thee have me excused.

20 And another said, I have married a wife, and therefore I cannot come.

21 So that servant came, and shewed his lord these things. Then the master of the house being angry said to his servant, Go out quickly into the streets and lanes of the city, and bring in hither the poor, and the maimed, and the halt, and the blind.

22 And the servant said, Lord, it is done as thou hast commanded, and yet there is room.

23 And the lord said unto the servant, Go out into the highways and hedges, and compel them to come in, that my house may be filled.

24 For I say unto you, That none of those men which were bidden shall taste of my supper.

25 And there went great multitudes with him: and he turned, and said unto them,

26 If any man come to me, and hate not his father, and mother, and wife, and children, and brethren, and sisters, yea, and his own life also, he cannot be my disciple.

27 And whosoever doth not bear his cross, and come after me, cannot be my disciple.

28 For which of you, intending to build a tower, sitteth not down first, and counteth the cost, whether he have sufficient to finish it?

29 Lest haply, after he hath laid the foundation, and is not able to finish it, all that behold it begin to mock him,

30 Saying, This man began to build, and was not able to finish.

31 Or what king, going to make war against another king, sitteth not down first, and consulteth whether he be able with ten thousand to meet him that cometh against him with twenty thousand?

32 Or else, while the other is yet a great way off, he sendeth an ambassage, and desireth conditions of peace.

33 So likewise, whosoever he be of you that forsaketh not all that he hath, he cannot be my disciple.

34 Salt is good: but if the salt have lost his savour, wherewith shall it be seasoned?

35 It is neither fit for the land, nor yet for the dunghill; but men cast it out. He that hath ears to hear, let him hear.

[adgp35]

Nancy Drew in California Dreaming, Part 4

Geoff Summers, breathing hard as he stood on the sidewalk glaring at Nancy, looked to his left and then to his right. Nancy could see that the young man had no intention of discussing the forged and stolen art with her or with anyone else. She noted with satisfaction however that to Summers’ right were the densely hedged gardens belonging to Bradley’s Bohemian well-to-do, and to his left was the busy highway, filling up now with rush hour traffic. The girl sleuth smiled smugly at the increasingly desperate looking man. “You can’t escape, Mr Summers,” the young woman told him, “so you may as well talk to me.”

“Go to hell, witch!” Summers suddenly exclaimed and with that, he turned around and ran off, back down the street the way he had come. Nancy, momentarily nonplussed, watched him flee in some surprise, but the girl detective soon rallied her thoughts and set off in pursuit. “Stop!” she called out after him. “You’re only making it worse for yourself! You haven’t a chance!” But Geoff took no notice, and continued to run down the boulevard, with the red-haired girl close behind.

To be continued.

AI image created via Microsoft Bing

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

Bowen's Daily Meditations

by Rev. George Bowen

"Thy people shall be willing in the day of thy power." – Psalm 110:3

Voluntarily, heartily following thy banners; volunteering to yield their substance, to forsake their hearths, to fight the good fight of faith. In that day there will be no constraint or distraint; no legal enactments to maintain a ministry; no political alliance, no dependence on the state. The willingness of Christ’s people will afford all the scope that is requisite for the manifestation of Christ’s power. Then shall be heard a loud voice exclaiming, " Now is come salvation, and strength, and the kingdom of our God, and the power of his Christ." The great dragon, that old serpent, is cast out, when there is no longer aught intermediate between Christ and his people: when his servants are willing to recognize him as their own Master.

Oh, reader! Brother or sister, hast thou anything of the spirit that animated Isaiah in the hour when he said, "Here am I, send me?" How few there are that have wills like the will of Christ. How difficult it is to find a workman for Christ when the work is at all difficult. How long must we advertise for a missionary to go out into the highways and hedges, that he may constrain men to come in. But when the work is of a less trying character, the emoluments greater, how many candidates we have. Oh, what an unwilling age it is, with all its boasted piety. All the world’s promises must be mingled with the promises of Christ, in order to induce Christians, what we call Christians, to do some special work for Christ. Christ and the king must go into partnership, then men will enlist under the banners that are called by kingly courtesy the banners of Christ. Oh, the dread blindness that has fallen upon us all. When, oh, when shall there be found a willing people for Christ? Men that shall say with Paul, " I do this thing willingly," and give proof of what they say? A Church voluntarily contributing, laboring, preaching, abstaining, and in a word, accomplishing all the functions of a Church, unconstrained, and purely because Christ wills it?