#How to Die Young in Manila

[boozles]

So, since I'm sick and confined to my bed, I thought I'd take part in @negrowhat's 15 Day BL Challenge!

Day One: Fave OG Pairing

My original and first ever ship was EliKoy aka Elijah Canlas and Kokoy De Santos, who were paired up for Gameboys, the hit Fillipino BL that was released during the Covid lockdown. If it hadn't been for them, I would never have got into the BL community, and whilst they haven't done anything together since season 2, they still mean the world to me. (Also, I'm still hoping for Some Nights I Feel Like Walking; you can watch the short pitch video for it here!) These boys are so precious to me, and they still call each other 'baby' <3

If you want to go older, it would be TayNew; however, I did only discover them around a year ago, but when it comes to the original GMMTV boys from the early BL days, they are my favourite. (I mean, we all know FirstKhaotung are my all time favourites, but since The Eclipse was their first pairing, I'll got with TayNew for now.) They're just so lovely, and genuine best friends. I just adore how much they love one another.

[mygnolia]

LOVE ON A FRESH SLATE ༄ TEASER

༄ SYNOPSIS -› Sim Jaeyun might not have many critically acclaimed films in his IMBD, but if there’s something to change that, it’s his upcoming film, ‘diving in love,’ a fresh summer romance that’s caught the attention of everyone on the internet. The only problem is, no one believes the chemistry will be up to rom-com standards. Maybe he’ll save his career by fake dating his cold-hearted co-star, aka you, to sell it?

༄ PAIR -› actor!sim jaeyun x fem actress!reader

༄ GENRE -› fluff, banter, angst, comfort ༄ TROPES -› enemies to lovers, heavy on the fake dating (i LOVE fake dating) ༄ WC -› estimated 15-20k idk lolz

༄ INCLUDES -› will be added!

༄ RELEASE DATE -› november!

༄ REN SAYS... me when summer also haha get it slate cuz they're actors but also it's e2l so misunderstandings heheheh am i funny (im not) | LIBRARY

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“You’re going to tell me you signed me up for the cult of Scientology, I assume,” You introduce yourself, shaking hands with the man next to Sunoo. 

Once again, there is just one empty seat before Jake Sim walks in, out of breath. “Jungwon, please don’t tell me–” He notices you after he barges in, taking in your poised manner as you wait for him to continue. But he doesn’t. The words die on his tongue when he sees you and the same manager from last week's meeting. 

“Please don’t tell me what?” Jungwon asks, raising an eyebrow as Jake sinks into the only chair left. The latter shakes his head, not wanting to elaborate any further. 

Sunoo sits up, putting his hands together after he finishes the last sip of his drink. “Open up the files, ____.” He motions to the manila folder on the table, and with much confusion, you peel back the cover to find a neat stack of black and white articles. 

Jungwon, who you can only assume is Jake’s manager, gets Jake to lean in and read what’s on the pages. “This,” he starts, spreading out the rest of the articles, “is every article in the past week with a negative outlook on whether or not the film will be up to par with the standards of the 2000’s.”

You scoff, eyes trailing over an article with your face as the cover. “Really? People hate me that much?” Your dry humor really only resonates with Sunoo, who sends you a look before trying to organize the flurry of papers.

“I doubt they’ll keep going,” Jake tries, fidgeting with his ring. Maybe his second rich person problem was figuring out how to get the media to like him again if the movie turns into a failure and he has to scour for another source of income. 

“Unless I solve world hunger, I doubt the media will turn away from the wine scandal any time soon.” Jake considers dropping out and cutting his losses early with the way you comment on your impending future. 

Jake’s manager shakes his head, closing the manila folder and essentially blocking it out before coming up with the worst possible plan in existence. 

“You two can fake date. Then, no one will question your chemistry, because they’ll think you’re in love.” 

There were only so many things you refused to do in your lifetime, but fake dating your co-star made it to the top of your list in record time. 

You shook your head. “Absolutely not.” At least Jake could agree with one thing you said. 

The silence almost turns awkward before Sunoo speaks up in agreement, ignoring you. “I like it, it’ll give them a chance to pretend to bond more. Plus, they’re both young and attractive, and Jake is a change of pace from all of her shitty ex-boyfriends.” If Jake still wanted to jump off a building after hearing their proposition, you’d unknowingly want to join him. 

You cough in your arm, hiding the embarrassment of his last comment before nodding to look at the actor. “You think just because I’m dating someone, it’ll make the movie more watchable?” 

Sunoo rolls his eyes. “I’d much rather watch a rom-com if it was confirmed that the actors found love on set. It’s a good story.” 

Jungwon interjects. “Good publicity.” 

The actor beside you finally speaks up. “And you want to start this arrangement…when?” 

“As soon as possible,” your manager answers, and his response might be some of the worst news you’ve heard in a while. “Hear me out, ‘____ ____ and Jake Sim falling in love the moment they’re casted. It’s fate. They’ve been in love since the beginning. I have to see it, their chemistry will be so good.’ ”

Before you nor Jake are able to come up with a rebuttal, Jungwon adds, “I know both of you can act, and even despite this fake relationship, the movie will be good. But if you can get away from the negative thoughts surrounding the film’s pre-release, it’ll generate so much more hype around it.” 

“Better for your conscience, ____. You don’t need angry Sunghoon fans sending you anymore death threats.” If Sunoo kept airing out your problems like that, you’d drag him out by the ear without any fake boyfriend in tow.

You really think about it, questioning if one PR stunt could get you out of the nepo baby ditch you’ve been trying to fight for years; it wasn’t even that you were bad at your job, your mother just never had anything nice to say to anyone. If anything, she was Hollywood’s actual mean girl.

“Fine.” You agree begrudgingly. 

Jake on the other hand has no idea what he’s getting out of this. How does fake-dating a girl he’s never liked help his reputation at all?

Maybe it’s because he couldn’t find an answer to it, or maybe Jake was comfortable enough asking something so brash in public. “What the hell do I get out of it?” 

You lean back in surprise, not used to hearing him so flustered by something. It was all your fault, Jake thinks as he once again pulls at his hair. 

The room is silent as everyone’s gears turn. Jake puts his hands on both sides of the armchair, about to get up and pretend this failure of a ruse ever existed. “If there’s nothing, I’m-”

“Wait,” you cut him off, eyes still fixed on something as you think. It’s good for you, and mainly you. Jake has a good reputation, people love natural chemistry and love a cute couple even more, and your name would be in summer-y titles for the next two months if your scheme worked out. But him? 

What could Jake Sim possibly want? 

“You want money? Connections? An interview with Justin Beiber?” You try, spewing what every boy would want when they were 13. 

Somehow, his head perks up when he hears his favorite celebrity’s name from your lips. 

“You could do that?” He asks, bewildered. 

“I thought you hated me for having a famous mom.” He stays silent. 

“Look, you’re up and coming. If this movie does well, I’ll send a letter to the top producers in the industry and tell them about how stunning of a performance you gave.” 

It’s a deal that’s extremely hard to pass on–hell, he’s literally getting paid to act in the movie anyways, so it’s not like he loses much if he says yes. But you’re snarky, and although you’re not outright rude, you never seem to be excited for anything, and Jake has no idea why the mood is so sour when he’s with you.

Whatever, it’s not like it’s real, anyways.  

Jake shrugs and pinches his nose bridge momentarily before sighing. “Where do I sign?” 

You thought that Jake had been oblivious to the whole thing as much as you were, but it seems like he knew about a hidden contract. Jungwon fishes out a crisp white sheet of paper from his bag. “You know me so well, and I didn’t even tell you anything,” and his response has you thinking that maybe the actor just knows his manager well. 

Suddenly, the next year of your love life is signed and tucked away into two identical copies for Jungwon and Sunoo, before the two shake hands and smile. “I’m excited for how things will go,” your manager comments before you two leave. 

The moment the door shuts behind you, you let out a long exhale, suddenly finding interest in your manicure. 

“You’re annoying, Sunoo. But I don’t doubt you.” 

The boy smiles and links arms with you, walking to the entrance of the studio building before you both catch wind of the paparazzi. 

A swarm of reporters and cameras catch your casual outfit and sunglasses when you emerge with your manager behind you. Questions bombard you, and you hear amongst the commotion a few reporters who are desperate for their next article to feature you. ‘Is it true that you’ve hated Sunghoon for years?’ ‘What do you have to say about your new film?’ ‘Do you have anything to say about Jake Sim?’ 

You pause momentarily on the way to your car, reconsidering if you should answer any question. “Me and Sunghoon have never had a disagreement, and I know he appreciated the Prada we sent him a few weeks ago.” Smiling at the memory, you choose to answer a few more questions before you have to go. “As for the new film? I’m fairly excited. Me and my boyfriend are more than ready to be filmed together." 

The gasps from the crowd leave you content as you slip into your car with Sunoo. “But don’t tell anyone I’m dating!” You yell out for good measure, knowing that by morning, everything will have changed.

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[18250mm]

Oh Captain, My Captain | S. Rogers

Gif not mine, credit to creator

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Fem!Super-Soldier!Reader

Word Count: 1,405

Warnings: Implied possible relationship between Kate and Yelena, Steve’s low-key captain kink (not 18+ though)

Summary: Everyone calls Steve Rogers captain, but there’s only one person he wants to hear it from.

---

"Here you go, Cap," said Maria Hill, S.H.I.E.L.D.’s former Deputy Director. "Those mission reports you requested from Y/N."

Ever since the organisation was exposed for their dirty secrets and every agent’s information was leaked, the Avengers — especially Steve Rogers — had spent countless hours trying to rebuild S.H.I.E.L.D. into something that people could trust.

Unfortunately for the super-soldier, not everyone was easy to work with; the most stubborn of the group being you.

You were one of the newer Avengers, having joined the team around the same time as Kate Bishop, Yelena Belova and America Chavez. With super-serum coursing through your veins, it was no doubt that you were meant to be Steve and Bucky’s mission counterpart… or protégé, if you will — specifically in the Young Avengers team.

Steve sighed and grabbed the manila folders gratefully. "Y/N couldn’t come and hand them over herself, huh?"

The high-ranking agent shook her head. "Something about seeing you enough at the gym and possibly combusting if she had to face you again today," she chuckled.

Truth be told, neither you nor Steve knew why you were being such a brat about working with him. Your training usually consisted of split sessions between him and Bucky, yet you got along with the Winter Soldier just fine.

Perhaps, it was because Steve’s ‘work hard or die trying’ attitude always got the better of you. Or maybe it was the way he seemed to make even the most interesting topics sound boring.

Maybe it was because you had the biggest crush on him and didn’t want to face it for fear of ruining everything between the two of you, so you figured pushing him away was the best thing to do.

…

After spending the majority of your day in the boxing ring with Natasha and Wanda, you were beat. All you wanted to do was curl up with a good movie, but Tony had better plans.

Of course, he had chosen a Friday to throw a party in the Avengers Compound; saying something about how important it was to enjoy the last day of the work week.

The billionaire was never one too keen on sleep, anyway.

…

"Captain Rogers," Vision greeted. "How are things with Ms. Y/N?"

Even the synthezoid had some idea of the apparent rift between the two of you. Whilst he suggested it was best to ignore it, Steve simply couldn’t get you out of his head. Everyone in the compound, including those with high authority like Nick Fury, called him Captain.

Heck, even Carol Danvers, a captain herself, donned that title on him. So why didn’t you?

"I haven’t seen her all day, but I’m hoping to catch her tonight and ask her why she despises me so much," Steve scoffed, taking another shot of Asgardian ale, courtesy of Thor Odinson.

"I wish you all the best, Captain."

…

*Some time later*

"Who’s down for a game of Truth or Dare?" Valkyrie hollered, warning cheers and applause from those around her. "All are welcome!"

And that’s how you found yourself sitting in a circle alongside the same group of people you had already spent most of your week with.

"Alright, who goes first?"

"I will," Natasha replied with a smirk. "Kate, truth or dare?"

"I’ll take a truth."

"Do you have a crush on anyone in this room?"

Everyone very well knew about the fat crush Kate Bishop had on Yelena Belova. While the girl was generally a fumbling mess, it was even more so when she was around the blonde. Natasha was definitely using this game as a way to get them together.

You smirked at the Russian redhead, already on board with the plan. "Oh, do tell," you said, leaning forward attentively.

Kate blushed furiously at the question, knowing that even a simple ‘yes’ would confirm everyone’s suspicions.

"Tick tock, Kate Bishop! We don’t have all night!" Yelena, oblivious about the whole situation, waved her hands in the air before downing another shot of tequila.

"I do."

Everyone cheered and Kate quickly took the next turn to get the spotlight off her. "Cap, truth or dare?"

"I could go for a dare," he replied with a sweet smile.

You rolled your eyes. Of course he’d pick that over answering a question.

"I dare you to tell us your biggest secret!"

Hell yeah. Leave it to the world’s greatest archer to hit the final nail in the coffin. You grinned as Steve’s face went red, trying to think of something to say.

"I guess…I guess I like it when everyone calls me Captain," he mumbled shyly.

"What, you have a captain kink or something, Rogers?" Tony quirked an eyebrow. "I mean, you could’ve said so earlier."

"That’s not what I meant!" the super-soldier’s face was bright red now. "I just feel more appreciated, you know what I mean? It’s nice to know being old and outdated doesn’t mean I’m unappreciated around here."

His words replayed in your head and suddenly, you felt bad for evading his request to treat him with more kindness. Maybe pushing him away wasn’t the most foolproof plan after all.

…

"Y/N! Hey, wait up," Steve called out as he ran to catch up to you. "We need to talk."

"Steve," you greeted him stoically.

The both of you were outside your room, standing in the hallway where anyone could see if they walked past.

"Have I done something to offend you?" he asked sincerely and it made you feel twice as bad as you already were.

"What? No," you shook your head quickly. "I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel that way."

"Then why won’t you treat me the same way you treat everyone else?"

With wide eyes, you quickly opened your bedroom door and dragged the man inside. "Lower your voice! People will hear."

"So what if they do? It won’t be any different from the way you treat me when they’re around!"

"What do you want me to say, Steve?! Oh captain, my captain–"

"You know damn well that’s not what I’m talking about, Y/N," Steve said seriously, his voice low and firm. "Every time we’re scheduled to train together, you pull the worst attitude I’ve seen in any recruit. When you don’t have to be around me, you avoid me like the plague. What can I do to make things better between us?"

The silence between the two of you after that was more than deafening. If anything, it was awkward. You didn’t know how to react to Steve’s outburst. The usually calm, cool and collected man was now standing in front of you with tears threatening to spill.

"I like you," you finally replied after a while, your voice barely above a whisper.

"What?"

"I like you, Steve. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

"Y/N–" the blond began to say, but you cut him off.

"I’ve liked you for a while now, okay? I didn’t know what to do with these feelings so I buried them and pushed you away. I thought treating you like that would make this– this crush go away, but it never did. I didn’t want to ruin anything between us, so I figured… what’s there to ruin if there’s no real relationship between us anyway?"

There, the cat was out of the bag. You were sure Steve would see you in a different light now. Maybe he’d have all his classes with you transferred to Bucky instead so he wouldn’t have to deal with the information he’d just been given.

The gears in your head were turning at full speed, trying to come up with a way to get out of this situation. You considered telling him it was all a joke, an elaborate prank you and Sam had come up with to mess with him. Surely, the Falcon would take the fall with you if you so desperately needed it.

What Steve said next convinced you that you needn’t do all that.

"I wish you would’ve told me sooner, Y/N, because I like you too."

You weren’t sure you heard him right. Unfortunately, your enhanced hearing wasn’t enough to stop you from questioning the super-soldier. "What did you say?"

Steve chuckled, crossing his arms. "I like you too, Y/N Y/L/N. Now, about what we discussed earlier…"

"Yeah, yeah," you waved him off, blushing so deeply your ears were burning. "I’m sorry. I promise I’ll treat you better from now on… Captain."

[chiaraanatra]

You've Lost That Lovin' Feelin' | Part 2

Summary: Goose meets you at the Miramar Officers’ Club and after a drink and a brief conversation he wished would never end he believes that he’ll never see you again. Little did he know while this may have been your first meeting, it would not be your last.

Warning: Swearing, boys being stupid, me knowing nothing about how radar works, Goose having some suggestive thoughts

Word Count: 2k

A/N: Goose is a leg man I will not be taking any questions on the matter. We are all imagining that Carol is living her best life somewhere far from San Diego. I love her and Goose and refuse to kill her off or have either one of them go through a divorce. Sorry not sorry to Bradley for wiping your existence from this fictional plane. Also I know nothing about planes, aviation, engineering, or the Navy, I'm just a Goose girly at heart.

《 part 1 || part 3 || part 4 || epilogue 》 《 m.list || ao3 》

Maverick and Goose stood stiff as boards against one of the joint naval offices. Goose could feel himself sweating through his khaki uniform as he listened to an irate Air Boss Johnson scream at Commander Mike ‘Viper’ Metcalf. “One of your snot-nosed jockeys did a flyby on my tower at over 400 knots! I want somebody's butt! I want it now! I've had it!”

Johnson burst through the office doors just in time to knock into a Navy boy carrying a tray of coffee. “God damn it! That's twice! I want some butts!” He screamed as he made his way down the hall.

Viper and Jester emerged from the office. Viper let out a sigh, “Well, that'll just about cover the flybys.”

Lieutenant Commander Heatherly looked over at the boys, “Follow me.”

The walk down the hall felt like miles. Nick was used to Pete’s antics, they had been flying together for years, but sometimes it felt like Mav didn’t understand what was really at stake with all this. Goose needed this, not the Top Gun trophy, if Nick was honest, he could give a fuck about the trophy, but if this went south, the two could get kicked out of Top Gun, or worse, lose their wings and be grounded.

The four walked into Commander Metcalf’s office. Metcalf grabbed a manila folder from his desk, before standing to look out his office window. Mav and Goose stood at attention in front of the commander’s desk mentally preparing for the ass-chewing they were about to receive.

“Gentlemen, you had a hell of a first day.” Viper glanced out his office window. “The hard deck for this hop was 10,000 feet. You knew it, you broke it. You followed Commander Heatherly below after he lost sight of you and called ‘no joy.’ Why?” Viper’s voice was steady and calm, too calm for Goose’s liking.

“Sir!” Mav looked straight ahead, “I had Commander Heatherly in my sights. He saw me move in for the kill. He then proceeded below the hard deck. We weren't below 10,000 for more than a few seconds. I had the shot, there was no danger, so I took it.”

God damn it, Mav…

Commander Metcalf turned towards the boys. “You took it... and broke a major rule of engagement!” The rise in his voice made Goose want to curl up and die as he watches the commander walk towards them. “Then you broke another one with that circus stunt flyby.” Viper let out a sigh as he looked back out his office window. “Lieutenant Mitchell... Top Gun rules exist for your safety and that of your team. They are not flexible, nor am l. Either obey them, or you are history. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir!” Stated Mav, his eyes remaining focused on the window in front of him.

Metcalf took the seat in front of his desk before dismissing the young aviators.

Goose followed closely behind Maverick, closing the Commander’s office door after him. He let his hand come down a bit harder than he might have intended on the shorter pilot’s shoulder, “I really enjoyed that, Mav. Thanks a lot.” He leaned up against the wall, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. “Holy shit! Maybe I could learn how to be a truck driver.” He dropped his hands and looked back at Pete. “You have the number of that driving school on TV? Truck Master, I think it is. I might need that…”

Before he could spiral any further, he was brought out of his thoughts by a voice as sweet as honey. “Lieutenant.”

The two men turned to look down the hall. Goose was greeted by a beautiful sight. His eyes widened as he took in your form, making their way from your heels that clicked on the tile floor to your stocking-clad legs that went on for miles. When they made their way to the first of your outfit, Goose couldn’t help but wish your skirt was a little shorter and there was one less button done on your blouse.

Goose shut his eyes and let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Get it together, she’s your instructor!

As you came closer to the two-man Maverick turned to his RIO. “Okay, well,” he dusted off the shoulders of Goose’s khaki uniform. “Don’t be nervous. You look great, dear.”

“Thanks, honey.” Goose turned to you as Maverick made his way down the hall.

You couldn’t help but smile at the interaction. But quickly regained your professional composure. “That pilot of yours is quite the troublemaker. I could hear Johnson yelling from my office down the hall.”

“Mav’s not one to think before he acts. It’s bitten me in the ass more times than I would like to admit.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard about his hotshot antics. Charlie was annoyed, to say the least, after finding out that the two of you were the famous MIG insulter. Then again, judging by the back and forth with Charlie this morning, you seem to enjoy yourself at times.

“Oh, you heard all that...?” Goose looked down at his boots gently taping his foot.

“Bits and pieces to say the least,” You notice him looking everywhere but you. “Look, Charlie and I are instructors, we see 20 new hotshots every eight weeks.” If you were being honest you weren’t completely sure what you were saying. You are his instructor the last thing you should be thinking about is flirting with one of your students, let alone thinking about how good he looks in that khaki uniform. “That being said…”

Goose couldn’t bring himself to look up from his boots, it may have been disrespectful in some right, but he wasn’t sure where to look at this felt like the safest bet. His thoughts were running a mile a minute. Here it comes. Yeah, we can forget all about last night and I promise to think only wholesome thoughts when looking at you-

“I would love to see that MiG polaroid sometime.” You smiled up as the taller man finally met your gaze. You swear you could fall for those amber eyes even though you both knew that could never happen.

Goose smiled at your comment. “I’ll admit if this top gun thing doesn’t work out, I could always fall on photography as a backup,” he joked.

“Don’t forget your singing career. With that, you’re practically a triple threat, Lieutenant.

“Please, call me Nick. At least in casual conversation.”

“Are you anticipating more casual conversations with me Lieutenant?” Before he could answer you looked down at your watch noticing the time. “Well, Nick I should get going. I’m sure I will be seeing you.”

The way his name fell from your lips was heavenly. Unfortunately, before he could form a cohesive sentence you were already making your way down the hall.

The next day the Pilots and RIOs were split, with pilots going with Charlie to discuss the maneuvering capabilities of the F-18 and RIOs going with you to discuss radar systems and running hypotheticals drills.

You were leaning on the desk in front and center of the small lecture-style room. You could hear the ROIs down the hall before they made their entrance into the room. Marcus ‘Sundown’ Williams, Leonard ‘Wolfman’ Wolfe, Ron "Slider" Kerner, and Nick ‘Goose’ Bradshaw. The boys took their seats as you began.

Goose couldn’t help but stare at you as you began talking about radar systems that he knew like the back of his hand. He listened to you talk about the F14’s APG-65 system and its uses. He couldn’t deny that you knew what you were talking about, he could tell that this introduction was to spell that out to the others. He thought about how often people might not take you as seriously as they might a man in your same position and how the thought of someone disrespecting you ticked him off.

“-but you all knew that.” Your pause brought Nick out of his thoughts to focus back on your lecture. “To an extent, a raid assessment allows radar separation of closely spaced targets. While these are advanced systems, and ones far better than what we were using 3 years ago, they are not perfect. If a second MiG is flying close enough below the first, the APG won’t be able to detect the second aircraft until it has diverged from its partner.” You paused for a moment to glance at Goose. “I’m sure some of you have seen this firsthand.” You tried not to maintain eye contact with Goose for too long, however, his eyes never left your form.

Your lecture came to a close. You stood at the head of the desk gathering some files. You hadn’t noticed that someone had stayed behind until you heard a voice from behind you. “You really know your stuff.” Goose was leaning against the railing in front of the first row of lecture seating.

“I sure hope so, I was told I was hired for that very reason.” You said with a smile before turning to face the tall aviator. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

Goose looked down at his boots before looking back up to meet your gaze, “I wanted to ask, why didn’t you tell me who you were the other night.”

“I remember telling you my name. However, I may have left out the Top Gun instructor part.” You leaned against the desk and watched as Nick made his way close to you.

“A small detail. I can see how it could be overlooked.” He joked. He stopped just in of you, watching you look up at him. He couldn’t help as less-than-appropriate thoughts wandered into his mind. He shouldn’t be flirting with you, but you weren’t exactly making any attempts to stop him.

“A small oversight.” You could feel your heartbeat quicken slightly. You bite your cheek in an attempt to subdue the smile that was attempting to make its way across your lips. You couldn’t deny that Nick Bradshaw was a handsome man. His dirty blonde hair, his amber eyes, his voice that you knew could make any woman melt.

“I’ll be honest… I’m very tempted to ask you to dinner.”

Your eyes left his as you scribbled something on a piece of paper, “I usually make it a point to not date my students, Lieutenant.”

For a moment Nick thought he had crashed and burned, but then your words hit him, “usually?”

You folded the quarter sheet of paper twice, “usually.” You smile up at him before standing and gathering your things. Before making your exit, you placed the small note into his breast pocket, taping it lightly.

Nick watched as you exited the room. As clique as it was, he hated to see you go but couldn’t complain about watching you leave. When you were out the door he quickly grabbed the note out of his pocket

Dinner tonight 6:00 102 Laurel Beach Don’t be late!

“Holy shit…” Goose looked at his watch, it was 3:30 now. He grabbed his jacket and ran out into the hallway only to be met with Mav and Ice having a dick-measuring contest just down the hall. “Mav!” he waved his pilot down.

“Might want to run along to mother Goose,” Ice laughs.

“Yeah, I’m sure you have to find Slider and make sure he’s not lost in the hangar again.” Mav flashed the taller pilot a smile before making his way down the hall to his RIO.

“You never gonna believe this,” he hands Mav the note.

Mav looks at the note, “wow, Goose, your handwriting has improved. But you didn’t have to write me a note to get me to go to dinner with you.”

Goose let out a fake laugh placing his hand over his heart, “haha! Oh, Mav, you kill me!” He snatches the note out of the shorter man’s hands. “It’s from Stinger.”

“Bullshit!”

Nick held up three fingers, “scouts honor!”

Mav looked at his watch, “You better get going. You definitely need a shower. Also please don’t wear one of your stupid Hawaiian shirts…”

“What? Ladies love my Hawaiian shirts!”

“Sure, they do.” Mav rolled his eyes watching his friend practically run down the hallway. “And use protection!” He yells.

Goose turns to run backward and flashes a middle finger and a smile to Mav before making his way out of the building.

Part 3

Taglist: @luckyladycreator2 & @saturnsbabe69

As always, feedback, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!𝑊𝑎𝑛𝑛𝑎 𝑏𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑔𝑒𝑑? 𝐿𝑒𝑡 𝑚𝑒 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 💜

[chaoticdelinqueerwithglitter]

I just thought a dumb hc because I have insomnia and Tokyo Revengers is my roman empire.

Hear me out: I was thinking, what if Manila Izana (after Mikey dies) talked to Bonten Mikey?

(look at them, they are deffinitly not okay! 😭)

They need each other for comfort! I guess I don't need to explain why Bonten Mikey needs to have a sibling alive, right? I always hc that Manila Izana actually loved Mikey. In a twisted way mixed with guilt and jealousy, but I'm sure he loved Mikey.

How couldn't he? When Mikey probably opened to him after Emma's death. It's canon that he was always happy to have more family. I can imagine him completly broken, unable to sleep. Calling Izana on the phone, long night talks. This Mikey trusted Izana more than he trusted Draken, I'm sure Izana comforted him after what happened to Emma (ouch, ouch and ouch). While Draken pushed Mikey away (not judging, just saying that Izana used this for his own purpose).

Manila Izana, looked at this young Manila Mikey that trusted him, that loved him like an older brother even if they just met...And he hated himself for this, because he was liying to him. About Emma, about them being siblings (he never told him what Karen said, scared of losing him). He was doing the same thing that Shinichiro did to him: liying about being brothers, pretending to be a good big brother when he isn't (this is Izana's mind, not my personal opinion on Shin, he did what he could for his age and well, being our dear reckles Shin xD)

So... Izana hated himself but he loved Mikey. He lied to himself about it too, 100% sure. He kept telling to everyone, to Kakucho, to Kisaki, that he's only using Manila Mikey. Sano siblings doing denial? That's also canon!

But after Manila Mikey dies, he lost it. He looked like he was spiraling when Naoto and Takemichi died, tbh. He realized how much he loved Mikey after losing him. And he lost his brother. Again. He's freaking spiraling.

Exactly with this Izana at this point, is where I hc this, because I need healing for coping! (so yes, that means Izana had to touch rock bottom for being open to healing first,I'm so sorry 😔)

Bonten Mikey telling to Izana that he loved him, even after knowing about Emma, knowing everything... He loved him. Izana has being death for more than a decade and this Mikey stills loves him.

Oh, and Izana's reaction finding out how he died? Finding out his friends. No, his family... Did that memorandum to him that was Bonten? That Kakucho had the hanafuda where his heart was? Izana is uggly sobbing at this point, we all know it.

Manila Izana telling to Bonten Mikey that he loves him? That he feels guilty for what he did? For killing Emma? For being a bad older brother with Manila Mikey? (He feels guilty as fuck, specially if he found out at some point that Manila Mikey wanted to die) Izana loves him and wants to be a better brother this time? Hell yeah, Mikey is also crying because he has family again! (and I'm ignoring some minor things like curses, this is happening in a neutral and cursed-cleaned space in my mind)

Edit: I think Bonten Mikey would help to Manila Izana with his guilt. Because he blames himself for the way Mikey ended and seeing that Bonten Mikey it's also broken and even less there... Well, not saying Izana didn't have responsability on Manila Mikey, but he would see that it wasn't only him.

That made me imaging Izana saying "Wtf happened in your timeline for you to end like this?" And I just laughed for not crying because... Well, Tenjiku happened and we're all living it 😭

Since curses and time-leaping exists, my new headcanon is that this two talked in dreams, or something. I don't know, time magic or some angsty cursed connection. I don't understand the logic, I'm not trying to understand it. I just need to think that some nights, this two comforted each other in dreams. 🥹🥹

@just-sp-in-inginthevoid feel absolutely and completly free to add to this brain riot. Anyone else is more than welcome to add to, please.

[open-hangar]

Open Hangar Episode 0 - Prologue

Intermingling within the cytoplasm of every living cell, there exists the substance that determines the rate at which cells mature, age, and die. For most of mankind’s history, the systems through which this happened was a mystery, unknown and within the realms of mythology. It wasn’t until a laboratory in Singapore discovered this substance and named it: Charged Ionic Nucleotides. The lab’s PR team gave it the much catchier and trademarkable name Chargon.

At first, the world gave it little thought, just considering it another mildly interesting fact taught in middle school. But then, the Indian government made the world-changing discovery of C.I.N. Extraction, in which the chargon within a living cell could be removed with minimal damage to the cellular structure using reversed ion compulsion.

They had removed that which caused the cell to age.

On top of this, the free chargon was an incredible source of energy, many times more efficient than nuclear fission. A single banyan tree could power a major Indian metropolis for well over a year, and with proper care, that same tree would stand for many more years to come. This ground-breaking discovery was freely spread around the world to any nation who had the resources to take advantage of it, ending the energy crisis for 90% of the world in only 2 years and halting the rise of global climate change almost immediately. And for the less-developed nations of the world, the Indian government created the CINE-Daan Project, in which they would stockpile free chargon and chargon extractors within vast catacombs underneath the Himalayan peaks bordering India and China to lease out to nations in Oceania, Africa, and South America. The world was not yet a utopia, but the finish line was in sight.

Until the stockpile, along with most of the Himalayas, went up in cataclysmic flames.

Nobody knows who had done it or why, as anyone involved joined the billions of Indian, Tibetan, Nepalese, and Chinese civilians who were eradicated in a single moment. The best anyone can guess in retrospect is that something had caused the energy in the free chargon to cascade into itself, igniting the energy all in one massive burst. Those who claimed to have seen it and lived long enough to tell anyone else about it said that it looked like a massive, multi-colored flower erupting out of the ground, its petals spreading across the sky. This was the free chargon dispersing into the atmosphere, blanketing the planet and infecting all living beings.

The death of billions in the two most populous countries on Earth sent immediate ripples throughout all of mankind, the world’s collective grief blinding them to the effects of the free chargon in the air. It was Asia who was hit first and hardest, obviously, but Eastern Europe and the Middle East quickly felt it, too. The closer one lived to the blast site, the faster one aged and the faster the wildlife evolved. A newborn in Beijing taking her first steps before the family had finished celebrating the new life, young men in Manila developing rheumatoid arthritis overnight, a town in Laos becoming blanketed in a never-before-seen poisonous lichen.

The entire world had become one giant existential nightmare.

The wealthy, the learned, and the world leaders among the world’s population immediately fled to Brazil once they understood what was happening, hoping that a close antipode of the blast site would give them the most time to determine a solution. One scientist had an idea, and it was the only one considered: use a variation of the CIN Extraction to draw in the free chargon from the air, place it in a suitable vessel, and launch it into space. “How long would it take before the chargon levels returned to normal?” an investor asked. “By my estimates, if hundreds of facilities are built around the world and work in tandem while being run by a skeleton crew of volunteers” the same scientist responded, “at least a couple of centuries.”

The room reportedly erupted in fervor, people with no ideas asking for a better one. The requests went unanswered. “Then it’s clear. We need to leave Earth behind while it’s cleaning up.”

This meeting marked the beginning of the first year of the ADA (After the Day of Abandonment) calendar, in which 80% of the Earth’s population escaped into the stars, abandoning those below to live and die in squalor in the shadows of the Launch Base Zones, massive automated and semi-automated city-sized complexes which slowly absorbed the residual free chargon in the air, compress it, used giant bipedal vehicles known as Lanzers to load it onto pre-programmed rockets, and launch them into space to be collected and stored. Properly, this time, or at least it is understood so.

It’s been about 100 years since then. The free chargon in the Earth’s atmosphere is now estimated to cause all living things to mature and age at a rate about 96% faster than they did before the Himalayan Impact, down 1% since last year. Meanwhile, the Lunarians that had chosen to colonize the Earth’s moon became deathly afraid of Chargon, regularly purging it from their bodies to extend their life, usually around double the length before the Impact.

Some look up to the violet night sky in envy, while others look up in righteous fury, and yet more do their best to not think of the lights on the moon at all. All those who look down on their poison home planet, do so in pity.

[evidenceof]

Paz Márquez-Benítez on the Philippines, Filipinos, after the Battle of Manila, after WWII:

"Except for masks of dust, all that we recovered from the fall-out, we were alive. And to the naked eye appear unscarred.  Extermination was not our lot; we were grateful and liberated to look for our own kind of dying. In being removed from the blow-up, we were not tragic in the grand sense. We are islanders; self-intoxicated, self-hypnotized. We cannot be but our own true lovers and faithful assassins; we sigh, looking at smuall parts of ourselves in tiny handmirrors held up to the cruelest light.  Enchanting no one then but ourselves, we hope to be the greatest sorcerer yet (as in Jorge Luis Borges' blinded eyes), who, by sleeping, "dreamed the universe." .../"

Manila found itself in the crossfire of the United States and Japanese forces in the Second World War, the Legislative Building, the Manila Post Office, and the Ayuntamiento among many landmarks were gunned and bombed to the ground. Imperialism is so embedded in us that we rebuilt movie theaters before we did our own houses after Manila was burned and gunned to the ground. So we could see Hollywood again. So we could shout, “Victory Joe! VICTORY JOE!” at the screens. At the same Allied forces that massacred an entire island population of Balangiga. The orders, “I want all persons killed who are capable of bearing arms in actual hostilities against the United States.” Waller asked how young. “Ten years,” Smith replied. Because we are a footnote in history, the dead are inconsequential, counted by the thousands and as backgrounds in photographs.

I'll never forget how years ago when I still worked in a museum, a representative from the Smithsonian met with us to discuss the lending 19th century Hidalgo paintings. She said, “this exhibit we want to set up might be problematic because you know the Smithsonian was one of the institutions that agreed to annexing the Philippines. We sent anthropologists and scientists to study the Philippines.”

She then very quickly laughed and said, “Thank god I wasn’t born then!”

Is pain inherited, do you think? Why is it that, I wasn’t born then, but reading the lists of the dead, seeing piles of Filipino soldiers in ditches, the ones we shipped off to World Fairs to be displayed in human zoos—why do I inherit pain while she can choose not to inherit their title as colonizer? We didn't die. Not really, not completely, not enough for the white man that made sure we remain haunted and hunted. Mangled islands trying to survive the only way we knew how. Several ways. By betraying ourselves or dying trying to fight for a nation we didn’t even know existed, for the promise of something better than a footnote.

[rockislandadultreads]

New Title Tuesday: Historical Fiction

Deep as the Sky, Red as the Sea by Rita Chang-Eppig

When Shek Yeung sees a Portuguese sailor slay her husband, a feared pirate, she knows she must act swiftly or die. Instead of mourning, Shek Yeung launches a new plan: immediately marrying her husband’s second-in-command, and agreeing to bear him a son and heir, in order to retain power over her half of the fleet.

But as Shek Yeung vies for control over the army she knows she was born to lead, larger threats loom. The Chinese Emperor has charged a brutal, crafty nobleman with ridding the South China Seas of pirates, and the Europeans—tired of losing ships, men, and money to Shek Yeung’s alliance—have new plans for the area. Even worse, Shek Yeung’s cutthroat retributions create problems all their own. As Shek Yeung navigates new motherhood and the crises of leadership, she must decide how long she is willing to fight, and at what price, or risk losing her fleet, her new family, and even her life.

A book of salt and grit, blood and sweat, Deep as the Sky, Red as the Sea is an unmissable portrait of a woman who leads with the courage and ruthlessness of our darkest and most beloved heroes.

The Long March Home by Marcus Brotherton and Tosca Lee

Jimmy Propfield joined the army for two reasons: to get out of Mobile, Alabama, with his best friends Hank and Billy and to forget his high school sweetheart, Claire.

Life in the Philippines seems like paradise--until the morning of December 8, 1941, when news comes from Manila: Imperial Japan has bombed Pearl Harbor. Within hours, the teenage friends are plunged into war as enemy warplanes attack Luzon, beginning a battle for control of the Pacific Theater that will culminate with a last stand on the Bataan Peninsula and end with the largest surrender of American troops in history.

What follows will become known as one of the worst atrocities in modern warfare: the Bataan Death March. With no hope of rescue, the three friends vow to make it back home together. But the ordeal is only the beginning of their nearly four-year fight to survive.

Inspired by true stories, The Long March Home is a gripping coming-of-age tale of friendship, sacrifice, and the power of unrelenting hope.

Loot by Tania James

Abbas is just seventeen years old when his gifts as a woodcarver come to the attention of Tipu Sultan, and he is drawn into service at the palace in order to build a giant tiger automaton for Tipu’s sons, a gift to commemorate their return from British captivity. His fate—and the fate of the wooden tiger he helps create—will mirror the vicissitudes of nations and dynasties ravaged by war across India and Europe.

Working alongside the legendary French clockmaker Lucien du Leze, Abbas hones his craft, learns French, and meets Jehanne, the daughter of a French expatriate. When Du Leze is finally permitted to return home to Rouen, he invites Abbas to come along as his apprentice. But by the time Abbas travels to Europe, Tipu’s palace has been looted by British forces, and the tiger automaton has disappeared. To prove himself, Abbas must retrieve the tiger from an estate in the English countryside, where it is displayed in a collection of plundered art.

The Lost Journals of Sacajewea by Debra Magpie Earling

Among the most memorialized women in American history, Sacajewea served as interpreter and guide for Lewis and Clark's Corps of Discovery. In this visionary novel, acclaimed Indigenous author Debra Magpie Earling brings this mythologized figure vividly to life, casting unsparing light on the men who brutalized her and re-centering Sacajewea as the arbiter of her own history.

Raised among the Lemhi Shoshone, in this telling the young Sacajewea is bright and bold, growing strong from the hard work of "learning all ways to survive" gathering berries, water, roots, and wood; butchering buffalo, antelope, and deer; catching salmon and snaring rabbits; weaving baskets and listening to the stories of her elders. When her village is raided and her beloved Appe and Bia are killed, Sacajewea is kidnapped and then gambled away to Charbonneau, a French Canadian trapper.

Heavy with grief, Sacajewea learns how to survive at the edge of a strange new world teeming with fur trappers and traders. When Lewis and Clark's expedition party arrives, Sacajewea knows she must cross a vast and brutal terrain with her newborn son, the white man who owns her, and a company of men who wish to conquer and commodify the world she loves.

Written in lyrical, dreamlike prose, The Lost Journals of Sacajewea is an astonishing work of art and a powerful tale of perseverance--the Indigenous woman's story that hasn't been told.

[hecatemoon87]

The Insatiable Vampire: Freddie Jackson - Part I

Ugh, I'm sorry! I know people are more into drabbles. Reading a billion word fic isn't always an option. But how can I not go down the rabbit hole? HOW? I mean, Tom Hardy Characters as Vampires? I could literally write stories for this genre until I die. So, behold Part I and Part II is on it's way.

Inspired by my Vampires!! Post (here)

You can also read: The Vampire Devil Delaney & The Brooklyn Vampire (Bob from the Drop)

PART II

Warnings: Mention of Sex & of course, Vampires!

Words: 1966

Jessamy sat opposite of her supervisor, Martin. She was uncertain if she had misheard the instructions he’d just given her.

“So, you want me to find a vampire, but instead of staking him…I bring him in for rehabilitation?” she asked.

“That’s right,” Martin said, clasping his hands on his desk.

Martin was a man of Indian descent, entering his mid-fifties. He had a heavy cockney accent and tended to smoke a pack of cigarettes each day. He recently had given up smoking and wasn’t in the most pleasant of moods that afternoon. 

“Do you realize how mental that sounds?” she asked.

“Yes, Jessamy, I bloody know how it sounds!” he snapped, pounding the desk with a fist. 

“Good, then mind telling me what the fuck is going on? When did the agency stop killing monsters and start singing kum ba yah with them?” she said, leaning forward from her chair.

“These fucking days, everything’s gotta be politically correct, right? Well, the agency is no exception. People are demanding change, a better world and all that. Petitions are coming in urging us to start treating monsters in a humane manner,” Martin said, sitting back in his chair.

“Interesting, can they tell us how to treat something humanely when it isn’t even human?”

“Jess, I’m on your side. But you will do what I tell ya, cause that’s what bloody management wants,” Martin said, picking up a manila folder from his desk top and tossing it to Jessamy.

She opened the file to find a glossy five by eight photo of an attractive looking young man. He had a cheeky grin plastered on his face and she immediately pegged him as a trouble maker. She quickly scanned the details of his biography.

His name was Freddie Jackson and he was thirty years old. He had been part of a gang and had done some time in prison during his human life. According to the file he had not been a vampire for very long, yet somehow managed to score an impressive body count of a total of fifty-two people. 

“He kinda looks like a chav,” Jessamy said, laughing softly. 

“Laugh all you want, that little psycho has been a real problem,” Martin said.

“Fine, but why me? Why not Harker? I have three other cases I’m working on,” Jessamy said. 

“This is your new case. The other three have been reassigned,” Martin said.

“Why?”

“We need someone of your…caliber on this,” Martin said. 

“Bullshit, tell me the truth, Martin,” she said.

“Fuck it, fine. The agency wants a pretty woman on this case,” Martin said. 

“And I thought we were trying to be more politically correct?” Jessamy said, shaking her head.

“Yeah, well, the little shit likes his women. Just charm his socks off and bring him in.”

— o — o —

Jessamy had done her research and determined the proximity of Freddie’s hunting grounds. She’d take a stroll around those areas, using herself as bait to draw him in. Being an experienced hunter, Jessamy wasn’t too worried about being confronted by Freddie.

She walked without care as the day drifted into night. She had a dress on, a summer one in particular as it was June in London. It wasn’t a hunter’s outfit, but she thought it would be more enticing for a womanizing cunt like Freddie. 

An hour passed when she heard footsteps approaching her from behind. She smiled to herself, knowing it was him and kept moving forward. The footsteps suddenly ceased, but she knew better than to turn around. Keep your eyes forward, always, she knew. And then, lo and behold, Freddie Jackson materialized by a lamppost in front of her.  

“Look at you, luv. Absolutely fucking stunning,” he said with the same grin that had been smeared on his face in his photo. 

“Hi there, you must be Freddie,” she said, giving him a pretty smile. 

“You know me?” he asked, arching an eyebrow. 

“Oh, let’s not go and ask boring questions like that,” Jessamy said, pretending to pout. 

In a flash, Freddie appeared just a foot in front of her. He approached and leered down at her. 

“You’re very pretty. I’d hate to go and bruise you all up,” he growled. 

Jessamy kept her cool. She had always intended to tell him everything. She wanted to test his temper and clearly he wasn’t very in control of it. 

“My name is Jessamy O’dell. I’m from an agency known as Defensio Contra Malum,” she said, flashing her badge at him. 

“Fucking supernatural MI6, right?” Freddie said, scoffing. 

“Something like that,” she replied. 

“And you’re here to bring me in?” he asked.

“I’m here to talk. You have, after all, killed fifty-two people,” she said. 

“I’ve only killed fucking bad people,” Freddie said. 

“Yes, I noticed that during my research. Why exactly? You weren’t exactly an exceptional human being, are you trying to redeem yourself as a vampire?” she asked with interest. 

“Something like that,” he said, coldly.

She was a few inches shorter than he and she had to look up into his eyes. He had lovely blue eyes, fabulously clear cream colored skin and gorgeous bee stung lips. She knew that he was handsome from his photo, but in person, he was completely captivating. Suddenly, she felt sleepy, her eyelids feeling rather heavy just then. 

“You’re feeling a little tired, huh?” he said, looking deep into her eyes. 

Jessamy had dealt with mesmerism before, but from much older vampires. She couldn’t believe that a young vampire such as Freddie could possess such powers at this age. 

“What…no, I…” she said, shaking her head. 

“Yeah, you’re very tired. I think you need to have a little lie down, yeah?” he said, slipping an arm around her waist as she dipped toward the ground. 

“Why you little shit…” she said, just before passing out completely. 

— o — o —

Jessamy slowly awoke to find herself in a dark room. There was some light coming from her right side, so he glanced over and saw a window with the curtains drawn back. The light of the city illuminated the room and she pushed off the bed to go look out the window. The neighborhood below appeared to be Soho. She had to take a moment to recall how’d she gotten here and she clenched her fists upon remembering Freddie’s enchantment. 

“So, the baby vamp bought himself a flat in Soho with his victims’ money,” she said, whispering to herself.

“Yeah, I did. Not bad, eh?” a voice from the corner of the room said. 

Jessamy nearly jumped out of her skin. 

Freddie stood up from a chair in the corner of the room. He switched the light on and walked over to Jessamy. 

“Alright, you’ve had your fun. Now, let me go,” she said, sternly. 

“Why would I do something stupid like that? You go off, telling your fancy agency that Freddie Jackson needs to be locked up. Nah, I don’t think so, luv,” he said. 

“You’re not going to be locked up. The plan is for rehabilitation,” she said. 

“Yeah? Tell me then, what does that mean exactly?" he asked. 

“Well, it means…um, you’ll go through a program and, um…” she said, now realizing she didn’t know what it meant. 

“That’s what I fucking thought. I go with you and I’m fucked. Besides, I only kill bad people. So, go tell your agency, Defensio whatever, to go fuck themselves,” he said. 

“If I don’t return, they’ll just send someone else after you,” she said. 

He walked up on her, close enough to kiss her and hooked a finger under her chin. Not wanting to be hypnotized again, she averted her eyes from his gaze. He chuckled as he watched her pretty brown eyes look up at the ceiling. 

“Afraid I’ll make you drop your panties instead of asking you to sleep?” he said, grinning. 

She tried to push him away, but he was like a brick wall. She only succeeded in hurting her wrists a little. 

“Stop it. I’m a highly trained hunter, so don’t fuck with me. Besides, you’re just a baby vampire, how the hell did you do that back there?” she grumbled. 

“Dunno, just have a knack for it,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. 

“Well, jolly good for you. Now let me go,” she said. 

“No,” he said, flatly. 

She began to struggle against him, so he grabbed her wrists and kissed her. She whined against his lips, attempting to wiggle out from his vice-like grip. But then she started to relax, because it all started to feel very good. His body was firm and muscular, his lips had such a pleasant bounce to them that she couldn't help but kiss him back. He tasted like gum, spearmint specifically. And his tongue, oh god, his tongue had slipped into her mouth causing her knees to grow weak.

When he broke the kiss, she regained her senses and tensed up.

“What the hell? How are you doing this?” she asked, completely surprised that he had entranced her with a kiss. 

“I told you, I have a knack,” he said, grinning. 

She rolled her eyes at his cockiness. 

“So, what is your plan? Keep me locked up and hope my agency never finds you?” she questioned. 

He thought for a moment, then said offhandedly, “I wanna taste your blood.”

“Pardon?”

He brought her close to him again, tilting her head away and tracing his nose over the contour of her neck. 

“You smell like…honey. I bet your blood tastes like it too,” he said, sniffing her neck. 

Her heart started beating rapidly, afraid he’d bite her. He at first placed a gentle kiss on her collarbone, then abruptly licked upwards to her jawline. She squirmed in his arms, at first rocked by fear, then ending with an overwhelming sensation of arousal. 

“Stop it,” she said, her tone not entirely convincing. 

“Do you know what else I smell, luv?” he said, purring into her ear.

She closed her eyes, not daring to ask.

“You’re on your menses, ain’t yeah?” he said, inhaling sharply. 

She felt the intake of air around her neck and she shivered in his arms. 

“Yeah, you are, luv. I can smell that sweet little cunny of yours,” he said, opening his mouth up, scraping his fangs over her throat. 

Jessamy could feel the outline of his cock against her leg. He was rock solid hard.

“You’re deplorable,” she said, trying to stay in control of her willpower.

“Nah, that’s not how you feel. I can smell your hormones too. You’re randy,” he said, pulling back so that he could gaze down into her eyes. 

“It’s…it’s because you're using your bloody mesmerism,” she said, trying to justify it.

“Funny thing is, I’m not,” he said.

She could tell that he was dead serious because that cheeky grin was nowhere to be found.

“What…I, uh…what are we going to do now?” she asked, uncertain what else to say. 

He carefully released her from his grasp and continued the conversation. 

“I’m gonna leave you for a few hours. I haven’t eaten tonight and I tend to get a bit cranky if I don’t feed. I don’t wanna rip out that beautiful throat of yours, now do I?” he said.

Her hand involuntarily fluttered to her throat and shook her head.  

“No, I don't want that either,” she said. 

"Hang tight, luv. I'll be back. In the meantime, keep that fine arse of yours in this room," he said.

Before she could say anything in return, he simply vanished once she blinked. She sighed and walked back to the window and looked down upon the city. She was much better suited for ghosts or even werewolves. Vampires were such a pain in the neck (pun intended)

[bengiyo]

Sleep With Me Eps 1 & 2 Stray Thoughts

We have at least three GL productions coming out this month, and we've had a few pass that I haven't made the time for yet. Before that begins, I wanted to see this project from the Philippines, because I wanted to see how this show tackled a wheelchair-bound love interest. I think the last time I saw this with w/w romance was Margarita With a Straw (2014).

Episode 1

The opening shot having someone lark on the handicapped spot feels very intentional.

Also glad we're starting with Luna ending things with a boyfriend. I don't like girls-who-don't-deserve-this in BL and do not want the inverse in GL.

I like the way we're being eased into Harry's world. Seeing her navigate through a spill forces the viewer to consider how gross it would be to pick up garbage on wheels you have to touch all day.

It's probably good that Luna was chided for using a handicapped parking spot when there was another spot available.

Ah, I thought I recognized Jade Castro. He's a creative producer on this show. We know him from Boys Lockdown and How To Die Young in Manila.

Your bartender is always gonna cut you to the bone.

Um, Wendy, we are still in a global pandemic. You can't just leave these tissues in the counter.

This radio DJ experience is very much making me think of Life is Strange: True Colors.

This show is charming. Wendy's awkward plea was great.

Crash into me in a GL? Some tropes are universal.

Um, Luna, the way you took that ID back was VERY gay.

Okay, it feels like a small-scale production, but I'm really enjoying the texture of it. I feel like this a lot about Filipino media.

Episode 2

Seems like Luna's loved ones are trying to be accommodating about whatever condition she has that only enables her to sleep during the day.

Ah, finally some peak lesbian content: having dinner with your ex at home so often that your little brother just rolls his eyes about it. Also, helping that ex with work, and then turning down a job offer that turns into an almost-fight.

The brother is gay. Love these gay siblings supporting and teasing each other.

WTF, Jenny, you don't just ask questions like this???

I love this whole radio confession for both siblings. Wendy is also our champion for forcing Luna out of the store to go to Harry.

I will accept the adorable P-GL ending on one of them asking the other on a date.

[unorthodoxsavvy]

Whumptober Day 29: What Doesn’t Kill Me…

Martin shuffled through the case files he’s been given to look at and consult on this week. He was reading about a young boy who was having heart surgery over at the children’s hospital in nearby Boston when he heard the whir of the mechanical door to his cell unlock. Martin looked up as Malcolm walked in.

“I need your help,” Malcolm started.

Martin sighed and shuffled his papers back in order, placing them back in the Manila folder he’d taken them from.

“But of course, my boy. How may I be of assistance?”

“I need to die,” Malcolm explained, “but not really.”

Martin nodded his head slowly in thought.

“Alright. Makes perfect sense. Well, then the best drug for that would be Phenobarbital.”

“And that won’t actually kill me?” Malcolm checked.

“My boy! If I wanted to kill you I would have done so years ago! And I did try! But I changed my mind.”

Malcolm rolled his eyes.

“Alright, Phenobarbital, thanks-” Malcolm started to head out the door.

“Wait! That’s it? You don’t have more time to visit your old man?” Martin called after him.

“No! I have a funeral to get to!” Malcolm called back from down the hall.

“Whose?” Martin asked.

“Mine!”

[jialeysa]

Taste of Past

While I’m walking on the side of the Mother Church of Palawan which is the Immaculate Conception Cathedral Parish. I was walking towards the park where I always hang out and where i can think properly without any distractions.

When I was nearing my destination, I saw a couple. I feel their love for each other, I saw a lot of kids playing happily. I remembered when i was a young I went throught that too i became dirty, injured. And being happy, have a freedom to play and everything, remembering that past making me think what happen to me why I came in this situation did I do something wrong that's why I'm facing this kind of problem.

As I go to the seat where I can see the sea and I can breathe fresh air, I thought about taking a picture first to post on my instagram, after taking a picture. An old lady came into my place and ask me if I'm with someone I said no one and she ask me again if she can sit beside me, I letd her, after a minutes she suddenly spoke and ask me Do you know the story behind this place? I said no she speak again and said Let me tell you a story, a story behind this beautiful place named “PLAZA QUARTEL”. She gently start talking and I listen carefully. She’s start talking about the previous war that happened during

their time. “I nodded”.

Old lady: In my time, I witnessed the war that happened right here in this park.

While I was listening I was amazed at what her was saying. I can see in his two eyes how chaotic this park used to be.

(She’s continuing talking.)

Old lady: I saw how the Japanese People burn and kill the 150 American Prisoners alive.

Plaza Cuartel looks like your ordinary city park with concrete pavements, towering trees and benches. The ruins of an old garrison and tunnels are proof of its grim past. Plaza Cuartel is the site of Palawan Massacre. The tunnels were where 150 American prisoners of war were kept during World War II.  But on December 14, 1944, the Japanese decided to kill them all by burning them alive. Many perished but eleven prisoners were able to survive and escape the mass execution.

I was confuse why they need to get on that point that they can kill people easily.

Old lady: Some of American Prisoners survive, they swam to the river going to Iwahig to escape. One of the survivors is Dr. Higinio Mendoza. The remains of the Death were brought and buried at St.Louis Country at A general Grave in JEFFERSON

BARPACKS NATIONAL CFMETERY, MISSOURI,ESTADOS UNIDOS, 1952.

*she’s continuing the Background of The Plaza Quartel.

Old lady: Do you want to know about Dr. Higinio Mendoza

Me: “Yes”, i nodded

Old lady: Great! “So let me introduce to you Dr. Higinio Mendoza one of the survivor of the World War II. Dr. Higinio Mendoza died for this country. He chose to face death rather than betray his country and his people. Before he died, he left these words to his family and fellowmen: “Do not be afraid, don’t be sad. Not many are given the privilege to die for his country.” In the Mendoza Park, the city's central square, where his remains were interred, his memory has been preserved. He worked as the governor of Palawan from 1931 to 1938. He is a doctor by training. He completed his higher education in Manila as well as in the USA, where he studied medicine and afterwards worked. Higinio was allowed to speak in public despite being held captive by the Japanese. In one of them, he said “ It’s good that they chanced upon me in the house with my family. Had I been in the camp with my soldiers, there would be much bloodshed and I would never surrender,”. In 1947 they found the group of civilians but not in the grave. They’re now buried at Mendoza Park. Higinio would have escaped death had he accepted allegiance to the Japanese flag. But he refused not to serve in the Japanese government. Because for him, loyalty to his country and to his people is more upright, and should be his paramount consideration. He willingly offered his life for the people of Palawan and for his country.”

She gave me a sweet smile after she finished her story.

Old lady: Oh! I’ll go ahead, Thank You for listening Hija, I hope you learned a lot from it. /*she start to fix her dress and she stand up to prepare to leave.

Me: Thank you so much Lady, I learned a Lot from you. /* i smile back at her.

Before she leave, I picked up my phone and we took a picture, so we can have memories.

She left and after that I stayed there a few minutes and thinking what the old lady said to me after rewinding my mind I left and go home.

[casspurrjoybell-27]

In a Heartbeat - Chapter 48 - Part 2

*Warning - Adult Content*

Vince

Micheal shook his head, still in disbelief before returning to peruse the bookshelves.

"It's strange, isn't it?"

Michael frowned, picking up our parent's photo on the shelf.

"Nobody found out who killed him. Father."

"Probably a rogue."

He hummed, as he strolled around the council room.

"Probably but there's a strange hiccup about that theory."

"What would that be?"

I watched him as he picked up another family photo, one with everyone in it.

It was when we were younger before David ever was Michael's mate.

We looked happier, not a total mess a few years after this photo was taken.

"Notice anything strange?"

He pointed at the picture, his finger pointing at the arm draped around Xavier's shoulder.

"Father never took that ring off."

I looked at the photo closely, until I saw that familiar red gem on his finger.

"His wedding ring? What about it?"

"I looked at the reports," he tapped the manila folders.

"It wasn't on him when they found him."

"So, what are you saying? That..."

"That, whoever killed him, must have his ring," he finished.

I had noted it as well when we first looked at the evidence.

At the time it didn't seem like a red flag, considering my parents would fight all the time and with how he ended up, I assumed it was possible it had gotten lost in the struggle.

"Don't you find that strange though? What would a rogue want with a wedding ring?"

"Money?"

"Unlikely," he replied.

"It couldn't have been worth much. Not to warrant death or war over. No, I think this was personal."

"Father had a lot of enemies," I frowned.

"It could be anybody."

He smirked, before gesturing to the stack of papers I had yet to complete.

"Why do you think I asked you to compile that list and screen them?"

"For all we know, they could've died already."

He shrugged.

"True but somebody's got to know something. You wouldn't just kill someone that powerful and not boast about it."

"Why now though?"

I tilted my head, still eyeing him warily.

We hadn't been this civil in years.

"Dad's case has been cold for years. Even if we managed to find his killer, what would that do?"

"Well for starters," he dragged on, pushing the happy family photo closer to my hand.

"It would make mom happy to know we've caught them, that she could die knowing there was justice for the old man."

"They fought in the end, you know?"

I frowned looking at the photo.

Mom hadn't been that happy in a long time.

"That doesn't mean she didn't love him."

For sure, there were times they'd kiss in front of us, father latching onto her neck but I wasn't sure if you could call that love.

They rarely held hands, mom had even pushed him away when he got too pushy.

Other times, she'd argue and father would grip her arm just too harshly.

Looking back on it, I wondered if she ever really did feel connected to him, given they never had that bond in the first place but she must've cared somewhat after all we had to confirm the body.

After all, she had lost Michael when he got kicked out and Xavier was still young.

She had to look after both of us on her own while her mind and wolf started to shut down.

"I'd think it would ease your worries as well," Michael continued.

"George and the rest of those old-timers won't stop accusing Simon, no matter what you or I say. We find whoever owns the ring and we can still turn things around. Have them punished and we could finally get George to shut his stupid mouth."

I scoffed at that.

Getting George to shut up was like trying to silence an aggressive chihuahua.

"And if this killer is a pack member?"

"Well, then they'd have three angry sons, the council and a reckoning to watch out for."

I glanced back at the photo, wondering if this would make us happy again.

Knowing who had started this mess had been dealt with.

It wouldn't bring him back, wouldn't undo the damage he or any of us had caused but I guess this was a piece of the puzzle Simon had eluded too.

The missing piece that would help paint the picture that would prove for once and all that it hadn't been Simon's father.

The closure we all needed.

I looked up at Michael.

"So, where do we begin?"

"I'll investigate our members, in the meantime, finish that stack."

He grabbed father's case file, before jeering at the stack.

"I'll look into the file and evidence but my money's on a rogue father who he made enemies with."

I hummed.

I didn't trust Michael one bit when it came to a lot of things but this would at least keep him away from Simon or at least George away from Simon and when this was all over, I could focus strictly on the letter without having to worry about George's stupid arse coming after him again.

Especially after the latest string of nightmares, keeping Simon away from Michael had been a top priority.

No matter what Simon thought, there was no way I would willingly leave the two together, especially when I had no clue what Michael had up his sleeve.

Luckily Simon and Xavier had come into the council room, putting an end to the unusually friendly conversation between Michael.

"Simon," Michael greeted.

"Nice to see you, dear but I must be going now. Xavier."

"Oh," Simon looked back and forth incredulously between us as Michael headed towards the door.

He ruffled Xavier's hair before stepping out.

Xavier smoothed it back disgruntledly.

I slid the trashed letters under the folders as the two stepped closer. Simon said softly...

"Are you getting along now?"

"Not really," I responded, watching Xavier warily.

He didn't seem as upset as the other day in the hospital but I could tell he was trying to avoid looking at me directly.

"I still don't trust him."

Simon made a face.

"Let's not argue about that again."

I nodded, before glancing between the two of them.

"What brings you two here?"

[decaffeinatedgladiatorqueen]

Conservation we can never have

How are you now? I’ve seen you lately but I’ve been trying so hard to avoid you or not actually cross paths with you. You’ve left my messages on seen the last time message you and I felt like you don’t want to talk to me so I’m doing my best to stay away, “ako na ang lalayo” siring pa man. If nadire ka haakon, gusto tala gihap ikaw pero pag aadman ko gihap nga dumire na ako haim. I don’t want to chase you or make you feel uncomfortable so ako na mismo iton maiwas, pero sana okay ka la and you’re happier now with your life even thou you also have problems in your way, I hope you don’t let them get to you but I just miss you and I don’t want to do except to miss you. I want to see you but I don’t want to come close, too afraid that I might make you feel uncomfortable and you might feel that I’m so makulit and chasing after you.

1. First things first, a life update from me. I actually was in a phase in my life where I entertained someone because I thought I like him only to know that I like the idea of someone doing those couple things with me, I like the idea of someone actually saying they love me, I like the idea that someone updates me and does all the jowa things. Remember the konsehal that I told you the night we were in your car? that’s him. There was never an us and there will never be.I’m just so cruel and mean to let him chase after me, after someone who is full of shit and baggage. I thought my feelings for him was growing but only to know that it wasn’t and that’s just the idea of all the things I want to experience and I’m so mad at myself. To add some parts, I also feel uneasy around him and I felt like he was after me because I was young and he thought I was too naive but I am not and I think you know that I am a lot of things except naive. So there, there that’s a first update.

2. Next, I am very pressured about college life and life after college, I know I told you this last time but this time the voice of pressure is getting louder. My family especially my aunt and grandma is telling me to attend law school after college, and it’s not like I don’t want to do it  but I feel like there’s more to life and the world is a big place to explore than attending law school. how can I tell them that I want to work in the marketing field? I want to try working in a company and practice my marketing knowledge? How do I tell them that I want to go abroad and work there? It feels like I have a lot in my plate but most of it is LAW SCHOOL. It feels like the whole family is expecting me to become an attorney someday. I don’t know what to do anymore. I want to get into a good company during my internship maybe in cebu or manila but my aunt said it’s too far and told me to try something here in tacloban because she also added na “waray manla hiton kun ano nga company kay after grad mo mag law school ka man or magtrabahoka ha guiuan tutal myda na naghuhulat haim nga work didto kay kan mayor annaliz.” how do i tell them that i don’t want to work there? i want to explore and be somewhere. I feel like I want to try law school but I need my own time. Am I being prideful and selfish if I choose myself and listen to this voice in my head?

3. Okay third, You are the first and probably the only person I am planning to tell this to, I feel like my lifespan is short. It feels like if I am to do something or accomplished something, I always feel like it would always be my last. Death? I can feel it and it is getting nearer. I’m afraid of dying but I’m more afraid to know that I would be living a long life, but if I do die before you I hope this account finds you and you’ll know how much I am so in love with you and how I want you to be happy even thou if it is not me whom your heart beats for. If we never happen I would like you to know that it’s okay and I’m still waiting for your promise lakad but if that lakad never happen okay la gihapon, I still love you and nothing will ever range, you are still my ray of sunshine, the light at the end of the tunnel, my home away from home, my can’t eat, can’t sleep, reach for the stars, over the fence, world series kind of love and if there’s another lifetime after this I would still choose this feeling, you and all of the things with you.

4. Remember the first time we actually eat a meal together? December 14 2019 at Mcdo Caibaan Primark. We had a conversation about a person being born purely evil and purely good. I remember I told you that there is no one born purely evil and good but it is a mixture of the too, just like the yin and the yang, good and bad is always present in a person, he can be good to someone and bad to another, a father can be a good father to his children but a bad neighbor. However, after a conversation with friends at some point change my thought about it because at some point they were right, for example a father is a loving parent to his children but a bad husband to his wife, but try to analyze it if he is truly a loving father to his children, why then would he be a bad husband to the mother of his children? does it actually make him a good person? he is bad. there are actually people who is bad thou they are not born to be evil, it’s what they choose or maybe become to be because of the environment they are actually in.

I hope that we could actually have a conversation again, catch up or what. I am very sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable or if i said or done something you did not want. I am very sorry. I hope you’ll just tell me that you don’t want me anymore and you want me out of your life because I’ll truly accept it, just don’t do it like this. I have been questioning myself where or what did I do wrong? Did I talk too much? Did I not say something she wants to hear or said something she does not want to hear? Was I overdoing things? Was I actually hurting her or too makulit? Did I put her in a bad position because of my gifts and our lakads and talks? Did I? Asya waray na hiya papansin tak messages and all that.Sorry if I made you feel that Pau, if I overshare or talk too much or too makulit maybe because I felt like it was okay for me to share everything to you because I felt comfortable talking to you and it feels like I could tell you everything and just be me whenever we are together.

[ra-chives]

“PAMILYA ORDINARYO”

2016's ‘Pamilya Ordinaryo, Directed by Eduardo Roy Jr.

Is a family portrait of Jane, 16, and her boyfriend, Aries, who live on their own in the chaotic streets of Manila. Surviving as pickpockets, the lives of the young couple change when they suddenly become teenage parents. But not even a month into parenthood, their child is stolen from them. In order to retrieve the child, the young couple is forced to take desperate measures.

 I was nearly a teenage parent. I was a stupid, rebellious kid with an on-and-off, "ride or die" girlfriend who was also stupid and rebellious and eventually lived with me (at my parent's house) due to "an unstable living situation."

During our senior year, she had gotten expelled from school for retaliating against someone who picked on her gay brother; I had also gotten expelled for essentially retaliating against those responsible for it all. And there we were—two notoriously impulsive, irresponsible kids in an unhealthy relationship about to have a kid. We were the definition of "not ready for that responsibility" for various reasons that I won't get into here. Had we stayed together (seriously, the relationship was toxic as fuck) and if we had had a child together, it would've been a nightmare for all those involved, including the baby.

Ordinary People is an infinitely bleak portrait of two stupid, rebellious street kids in a toxic relationship who have a baby together. To me, it works as a persuasive advertisement for why teens shouldn't have children. They virtually always lack the emotional tools and material resources necessary to provide the care a baby deserves. Kids can't raise kids, even less so when destitute and living on the streets.

The film's dire world is fleshed out with opportunistic media types, ain't-shit-cops who personify the term ACAB, and predatory bamboozlers donning the mask of altruistic do-gooders who all exploit the vulnerable for self-interest.

I mainly appreciate the ethos that imbues this dire world, as it mirrors the cruelty and indifference that's part and parcel of daily life. Whether one chooses to acknowledge it or not, and irrespective of your level of exposure to these harsh realities, Ordinary People is, at least in part, a reflection of struggles routinely greeted with contempt, diminished in significance, invisibilized, and blended into the tapestry of everyday backgrounds. It forces the viewer to witness oppressive economic and class disparities rendered ordinary. (Whether or not you believe this film does a good job of exploring these issues is a separate discussion. At minimum, said issues are highlighted, even if only indirectly or understated.) The movie itself is solid, though it isn't quite remarkable, mainly due to its simplistic story simply not being incredibly compelling in addition to not really having characters you care that much for.

Perhaps the best thing about Ordinary People is the strong performances, which are both good and bad. It's "good" in the sense that the characters are believable, they feel lived in, and you can almost taste their desperation. It's "bad" insofar as how goddamn frustrating it was watching the two main characters repeatedly make mind-numbingly foolish decisions that cause you to internally groan and shout within yourself, "Of course a kid would do that dumb shit!" 🥴😖

Also, warning: contains a scene depicting transantagonistic violen.. 🤬

-roseeiie🌹

[kcterincs]

yesterday on #whenthemoonhangslow:

[When The Moon Hangs Low is a TTRPG I’m playing with friends in a colonial Manila setting, and I’m playing Carmencita, a charismatic yet oddly creepy noblewoman hunter. She’s investigating a lead in a murder case with the party’s Lurch-like sacristan-energy tank Prax, and is currently in Quiapo talking to young students skiving off university about a cult.]

CARMENCITA: [with interest] A revolutionary around the corner? What was he talking about? STUDENT: He was talking about all things revolutionaries love to talk about. Like liberty, fraternity, equality, mutual aid, you know. The search for beauty and truth. DOS (OUT OF CHARACTER): Oh no, not beauty and truth!

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CARMENCITA: I bring out the scapular. I don’t say from where. EVERYONE: [BURSTS INTO LAUGHTER FOR TWO WHOLE MINUTES]

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NPC: [hands the scapular back to Carmencita] Why don’t you show it around, ask about the Matang Pikit (closed eye), and you’ll find that old fogey talking about all this down one of the streets. [under his breath] Sounds like a bit of a scam to me. PRAX: How old is old? NPC: Oh, positively ancient. He must be 35.

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STUDENT: Before you go, would you like to stay for a round with me? ILDY (OOC): Oh no he’s flirting CARMENCITA: [warily] A round of...? GM: Betel chew. You’re in front of a stand with a vendor selling it right now. ILDY (OOC): It stains your teeth black. It’s a sign of beauty in some cultures--but wE’RE NOT IT PRAX (OFFHANDEDLY, OOC): Students sure flirt differently nowadays. CARMENCITA (OOC): Not remotely sexy.

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[Dos and Carmencita are undercover interviewing a deacon. He notices that Prax, our Infested Hunter who speaks to locusts, is in the trees outside the chapel.] DEACON: [to Dos] Oh, please tell your friend Zaccheus to come down. DOS (OOC): Wait what--oh [dissolves into laughter] CARMENCITA (OOC): [warily] Is this a Bible reference GM: Yes, remember the tax collector who hid in a tree because he wanted to see Jesus-- PRAX (OOC): No-- GM: Perhaps I should say, “Zaccheus, come down, for today I am to dine in your house.” EVERYONE, NON-PRACTICING OR EX-CATHOLICS: NO

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[Carmencita is bleeding from the leg and has sustained one Wound, a mechanic that means she’s close to death. If she sustains one more, she’ll die. But as the first healing attempt fails, suddenly the deacon and initiate, both of whom are out cold and subdued after the WILDEST BATTLE, awaken. Everyone goes into combat again.] CARMENCITA: [bleeding out in a pew] Hi!!! I’m dying GM: Carmencita says, “Let’s not forget that this scene is about me.”