#Julius content for weeks

[cursed-dreamers-dream]

I miss my wife…

Wait a minute….

[agendabymooner]

closure ! max v. x ofc (hearth sister!ofc)

“it wasn't right—the way it all went down. looks like you know that now.”

summary: sylvie just wanted to prove that she was good enough for the red bull racing team, but everything that had to do with her history with max seemed to get in the way of her determination— and she made sure that he knew that.

content warning: panic attack (and its triggers), use of explicit language, mentions of absent father figure, j*s verst*ppen 🤢, christian horner, frenemies to lovers (ish), confrontational text messages (max and sylvie), max being oblivious to her mental state, mentions of max’s childhood (not detailed)

note: as someone who struggled to find peace at certain situations, I know what it’s like to struggle in asking for help. please remember that there are people that are more than willing to give you the support that you need.

(i may not be able to update any of the smau works for the next two weeks as i am out of town and i only have my ipad with me. i normally do the layouts on my computer. i’ll try my best!)

enjoy xx

masterlist

2016 Spanish GP

If fate worked like this all the time, she might as well jump off the cliff if any of her peers asked for it.

She had been pulled out of her lectures for the week only for her to sit and watch how the racing teams operated. She could only roll her eyes when Christian Horner recommended she should have her presence be known in the paddock and the track as she prepared to work in an F1 team.

Sylvie already knew how everything worked; she was going to be a driver, for fuck’s sake. She had been trained for it. She grew up attending the race weekends because of her father and grandparents. She knew everything now. Hell, she even had Toto Wolff for an in-law (practically). He could just rerun everything to her if she needed to remember.

Christian Horner clearly had a different intention towards her visit. He claimed that she needed to relive the experiences in the garage, the media pit and the hospitality. But she knew the truth.

She had a rapport, her history in the academy was obviously discussed to Christian at some point. How Christian never mentioned anything about her departure from the program to her sister, who now held parts of Red Bull and the other two teams, she never had an answer for. It wasn’t a secret to most. At least to those who were there the day she left.

Tilly was in the Mercedes area, leaving her little sister in the Red Bull hospitality as she listened to nothing. She felt so alone and isolated, her urge to go to Mercedes was overwhelming. But it wasn’t as if she could; Christian had already told her off about her role and position in the company.

It didn’t help that Max Verstappen, donning his number 33 shirt, was in the same building. He was quite adamant on keeping her company but she constantly avoided him, slipping out of his sight as soon as his eyes settled on her.

She found excuses, most of which had something to do with Daniel Ricciardo. The Australian hadn’t minded though, knowing that she felt uncomfortable being around other people especially around Max. Daniel never minded her excuses, instead making up a lie that’s believable to others. Just so she could escape.

Max’s family was there that weekend. Obviously, she knew his mother and Victoria, his sister. Max and Sylvie, the two 18 year olds, were practically soul twins. Born on the same day, grew up together, and had been attached to the hips since the day they could crawl— they were friends, no one just knew what had happened. His mother had always asked Sylvie’s mum about her and how she’d managed to let her friendship with Max dissipate like that. Victoria missed having Sylvie over for tea whenever she visited the Netherlands, asking Max about what he had done to let Sylvie go like that.

Jos Verstappen was a different story. He never liked Sylvie, only holding a certain amount of respect for Julius Hearth and Blanche Ford Hearth. He always wanted Max to be successful at motorsport and this meant that nobody could be as equally good as his son. Not especially when Max’s ability matched Sylvie’s. He always claimed that hanging out with “that girl” will simply distract Max.

Even if he nodded at his father’s direction, Max continued to be friends with Sylvie, spending more time together whenever she and her family would fly and meet with his family.

At the ripe age of 12, Max admitted to her that she’s the closest thing that he had to an imaginary friend. Like he was forced to grow up before he could even walk. She was the one who would pull up the PlayStation whenever he failed to please his father for the tournament of that time. Jos never liked her, but he didn’t know exactly what could’ve made him dislike her. Sylvie didn’t like him, either, because she couldn’t believe that she was the one who’d have to give Max the childhood that he deserved. There are times when she wished she could simply spew out the foulest words and lump him with her own father. Well… she had already considered him a shitty father, and there’s no changing of opinion now.

So for Sylvie to see Jos in the paddock, basically keeping his eye on his son like a pestering hawk? Yeah, she turned away from their direction.

Then another group of people came, the same arrogant smile all over their faces. They taunted her.

She could remember her last week at the academy, when she had enough. These boys questioned her abilities on the track as soon as she started, trying to get her to quit as soon as she could. She didn’t care about them, because whenever they’d race she remained on the top of their level. They hated her because of it. Then on her last day, she was left to be called a name that didn’t even fit her…

“Snake Sylvie!” Matt Bauer was what she called Max’s bitch. He never liked Sylvie and had always wanted to be in Max’s family’s good graces. Alongside him were Max’s two other friends. These three were the same incompetent fucks who never ended in Formula 2. Thus, ending their racing careers early. They were doing fuck knows what these days. Which was quite hilarious, if you were to ask Sylvie, because they were the ones who kept telling Max to “Keep working” or “toughen up and get the first place.”

She couldn’t remember their names when she met them again that weekend, her eyes were already blurry from the tears as she shoved her way through them. “Where are you going?! We’re just going to catch up, babe!”

She didn’t even stop, her feet speeding up as she attempted to wipe her tears away. Her lips let out a stutter of excuse me as she pushed her way into where the Mercedes garage was.

Second free practice didn’t start anytime soon and Sylvie was thankful for that. It, however, never stopped the camera by the engineering station from capturing the sounds of a sobbing girl and an image of her nearly soaked Red Bull shirt as she ran inside. Had she been stronger than this, she wouldn’t have ran to Toto.

As if he knew someone was coming his way, Toto Wolff immediately took his headphones off and turned. His face etched with worry as Sylvie wrapped her arms around his broad figure. She was hysterically sobbing and shaking, her tears almost soaking his white shirt as she kept her head tucked in his chest.

“Can we stop the camera? There’s an obvious situation going on in here and we need a moment,” Sylvie couldn’t hear his voice as it was something more of a rumbling noise. Meanwhile Toto’s stern expression made the cameraman do as he was told. “Hey, schwester, are you okay?”

She was relentless, sobbing as she kept her head down and her arms tightly wrapped around him. She couldn’t speak. Not breathe for that matter. It felt like the last day of the academy all over again. Having no voice felt like she was just as defenseless once more.

“Sylvie, do you want me to take you to your hospitality?” Her bloodshot red eyes, still tearing up, stared into his dark ones as her lips quivered and her head shook left and right. “Do you want your sister?”

Toto knew that the Mercedes hospitality was nearer to the Red Bull area than the Mercedes garage. So for her to go this far just for comfort… something told him that she didn’t want to stress out the pregnant woman and that she needed more than her sister.

He pursed his lips, feeling helpless as he kept an arm around her shoulder as they walked out of the garage. He nodded at his engineers as if he was letting them know about leaving for a moment.

He did his best at comforting her. Rubbed her back, shushing her quietly and gently leading her to the hospitality. People outdoors had gotten a glimpse of her situation and began to speculate, which forced her to hide her face once more as Toto glared at them.

“Come on, schatzi,” inside nobody had batted an eye on her. And instead of speculating, certain people merely looked at the two with concern. What the hell happened, they probably asked themselves.

She was too busy crying and hiding her face away that she hadn’t realized Tilly was already approaching the two. Sylvie didn’t look up until she heard, “What happened, bello?”

“She came to the garage,” Toto said quietly, looking down at his in-law with concern as he said, “she couldn’t say anything because she’s having a hard time breathing.”

“Oh, lovie,” Tilly whispered empathetically, her delicate figure reaching out to hug her little sister, “I’m sorry to hear that. Come, let’s sit down, yes?”

Sylvie could barely think throughout the process of moving from one place to another. They reached the Mercedes motorhome and found themselves in a private room, Sylvie’s lips were swollen and her tear-stained cheeks were red.

She wasn’t even aware that Toto left until his tall figure returned with two bottles of water in his hands. He simply placed it down on the empty table and exchanged looks with his girlfriend. They couldn’t even find a way to help her out of this.

“Listen, Sylvie,” the girl’s sobbing subsided for a moment as Toto said, “I will come back. Okay? I will check and make sure that you’re alright, but I have to go.”

“Yes, go,” Tilly nodded at him, “I’ll be here. Thank you for taking her to me, mon amour.”

“Alright, I’ll be back as soon as I can,” Toto murmured as he leaned down and pecked Tilly’s lips. “I love you.”

“And I love you,” Tilly smiled ruefully, her eyes trained on her little sister as Toto moved to stand and hug Sylvie. Sylvie could only hug his waist, not wanting to let go but had done so anyway.

“Take some time to breathe, lovie,” Toto said for the last time before he left hesitantly.

Nobody but the two were inside the motorhome, thankfully. Sylvie would be so embarrassed to cry in front of other people— as she had done so ten minutes ago. The silence was interrupted by Sylvie’s sobbing. Tilly couldn’t help but wrap her arm around Sylvie’s shoulders, trying to occupy as much space as a pregnant woman could. God, this was the only thing that she didn’t like about her pregnancy. She wasn’t able to comfort her sisters or anyone as much as she’d like to do.

The model couldn’t even think or try to let out a single word, only crying in her sister’s arms as she listened to her shushing. It didn’t take long until the tears dried up. Her energy drained from crying too much over some fuckers who couldn’t even make it to the podium. Them, and that one person would be able to do that on Sunday.

With exhaustion washing over her, her sniffles turned into something more silent as she shut her eyes. It didn’t take long for Tilly to notice this as she stood up, giving more space to the girl on the couch. “Get some rest, lovie,” Tilly said quietly, brushing Sylvie’s hair away as the girl drifted off to sleep.

She really didn’t like being here in Spain.

—

Argument just outside the motorhome was what had woken her up. It was normal to have frustrated drivers or team principals throw a bitch fit, but hearing an argument was a different story.

Her eyes stung from opening after her post-crying nap, her feet meeting the floor as she popped the lid of the bottle open, her parched body taking in the water that she swallowed.

She liked eavesdropping, she really did. She liked to provide her own input even if it’s not needed— she was nosey and everyone knew that. But what she had gone through just about an hour or so ago made her lose the energy and motivation to be her usual self.

It didn’t stop her from walking closer to the door and listening in to whatever argument was going on.

“She’s here to observe and work, she’s not here to spectate,” that was Christian Horner.

“But she’s not feeling well, Christian, she has to rest,” now that’s her favourite in-law. Not really in-law.

“Look, I get that you’re looking out for her but you have to understand,” Christian hissed, “she’ll be signing with Red Bull as soon as she graduates. I cannot have her working with the team if you’re constantly mollycoddling her just because you’re the closest that she has to a father figure. This is a professional work setting, Toto, and she needs to be disciplined to be a part of it.”

“Disciplined, in what way?” The sternness on Toto’s voice could kill, unless you’re just as stupid as Christian as Sylvie heard a scoff coming out of the Red Bull team principal’s mouth.

“Everybody’s going through tough times,” Christian said, “so what? Most of us are moving along anyways. Don’t treat her like a child and make exemptions. She’s never going to learn how to toughen up from it.”

“Hey!” Another voice rung out as the door opened slightly, making her step back as she heard an exclamation of, “That girl was distressed after she left your area— the place where she’s supposed to feel comfortable working in. It’s not her responsibility to bear the problems that are clearly happening within the area of your control, so don’t you tell us how to accommodate if you can barely take care of it. Alright?”

“Fuckin’ prick,” the door slammed shut as Sylvie’s figure remained frozen, her eyes watching as they met Lewis’ dark ones. He smiled gently and asked, “Hey. Are you feeling better now, sweetheart?”

She didn’t respond for a moment after she heard Toto say, “Just give it a rest. She’ll work on what she has to do, just let it go for now. Speak to Tilly, if you would like.”

“Don’t worry about them,” Lewis pulled her back to the couch and sat with her. He leaned back as he joked, “Lovers’ quarrel is what’s going on between the two.”

She chuckled quietly, unable to keep her facade. The laughter fell eventually as she muttered, “I didn’t mean to create such a scene. I’m sorry.”

“What? Hey, girl, no,” Lewis felt his heart break at her words as he reached and rubbed her shoulder for comfort. “Don’t be sorry for snapping. It’s brave of you to keep it together in the first place.”

“I really didn’t mean to make a big deal out of it,” her voice cracked as she tried not to cry. Thinking about it was exhausting and saddening. “It’s just— there’s—“

“It’s okay, take a deep breath,” Lewis told her softly. She did as she was told. Many would say that it’s a rare thing to happen but Sylvie listened.

“There’s just people,” Sylvie explained quietly, not looking at Lewis as she murmured, “I haven’t seen them for a while and… I felt so uneasy. Like it’s the final nail in the coffin. I didn’t want to make a big deal because it was at Red Bull. Nobody’s in there. Toto, you and Tilly are in Mercedes.”

“Sorry we couldn’t be there,” Lewis told her sympathetically. “But it’s a good idea that you went to the garage as quickly as you did. Now look, even Christian’s facing Toto’s wrath.”

“I don’t want to think about it anymore,” Sylvie whispered shakily, shutting her eyes close as she sighed, “I just want some closure.”

The next few days were dreadful. She hadn’t wanted to go back to England as much as she did that weekend.

The people she never wanted to see were there. The sad part of it was the fact that Max would continue to be a part of her life and job, whether she liked it or not. She’d have to tolerate him, no matter how much shit she had gone through because of him and those people around him. This was the second time she had seen him and felt so angry. It was like her life was a race. It starts out very well, with her at the pole. But then she crashes the moment she tries to take advantage and overtake.

On Sunday, Max landed in P1. Sylvie watched him pop the cork of the Moet out and showered his fellow podium winners with it. The text that she then received and sent spilled everything that had nothing to do with champagne. But rather explained how she ended up leaving the academy after that damn open tournament four years ago.

Max complains a lot, he could admit, but he never felt so guilty as much as he did when he practically berated her through a series of text messages. He always demanded answers to things that he believed had explanations, and he wouldn’t stop until he got it. But sometimes he wished his relentless demands were silenced by his conscience.

He felt extremely guilty and upset. It wasn’t because Sylvie Hearth refused to give in to his demands, but rather because her answers explained her hatred and anger. It wasn’t just any anger. It was an ounce of hatred and a lot of anger directed towards him.

Because really, he was the reason why Sylvie never turned out to be the first woman to become a Formula One driver. She never got the seat in Red Bull Racing and Max had gotten it instead. Now he understood why she would refuse to speak to or look at him as if they were childhood best friends and act like they were strangers.

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Zack Beauchamp at Vox:

When Donald Trump flew to Pennsylvania for a 9/11 anniversary event this week, he brought an unusual companion: a 9/11 conspiracist named Laura Loomer. Loomer has been a quasi-journalist on the fringe right for about a decade, with a penchant for saying things that make even hardened MAGA types recoil. She is a self-described “proud Islamophobe” who has cheered the deaths of migrants and called for Muslims to be banned from driving for ride-hail apps. She ran for Congress twice, in 2020 and 2022, and failed both times. More recently, Loomer has called Kamala Harris a “drug-using prostitute” and warned that, if she wins, “the White House will smell like curry & White House speeches will be facilitated via a call center.” Despite all of this, Trump has long displayed a soft spot for Loomer. He endorsed her House bid in 2020 and, in 2023, tried to offer her a spot on his campaign — only to back down after aides revolted. Undeterred, he hosted her at Mar-a-Lago afterward, repeatedly boosted her content on Truth Social, and traveled with her on the 2024 campaign trail.

It’s not clear what Trump gets out of this relationship. But his ties to Loomer have become a major controversy since the 9/11 event, with some of the former president’s closest allies speaking publicly against Loomer. “The history of this person is just really toxic,” Sen. Lindsey Graham (R-SC) told the HuffPost. Rep. Marjorie Taylor Greene (R-GA) — who claimed a Jewish family was using space lasers to start wildfires! — thinks Loomer is a bridge too far, calling Loomer’s tweet about Harris and curry “appalling and extremely racist.” (Loomer responded by accusing Greene of sleeping with a “Zangief cosplayer.”) It’s hard to take these condemnations all that seriously. Trump and his vice presidential pick have spent this week pushing a nasty conspiracy theory about Haitian immigrants stealing and eating people’s pets that appears to have inspired real-world hate crimes. If you’re worried about racism and conspiracy theorizing, maybe take a look at the top of the ticket. But what makes Loomer different from Trump is that she has literally no filter. She says the quiet part out loud, every single time. The more time Trump spends with her, the harder it is to deny that his thinly veiled bigotry is anything but the genuine article. And that, for the Republican Party, is a very big problem indeed.

Who is Laura Loomer?

Loomer isn’t a household name for most Americans, but she’s been a presence in the conservative media ecosystem for quite some time. She first attracted attention in 2015 when, as a college senior at Barry University in South Florida, she secretly filmed a meeting with administrators in which she attempted to form a campus club supporting ISIS. The video was released by Project Veritas, the conservative group that specializes in (questionably edited) sting videos. Loomer worked for Project Veritas during the 2016 presidential campaign and learned to build a career out of political stunts. She grabbed the national spotlight in June 2017 when she stormed the stage at a performance of Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar in New York that dressed the Roman general like Donald Trump. The disruption earned Loomer a booking on Sean Hannity’s show.

“You were making a very strong point. I applaud you for what you’ve done,” Hannity told her. Loomer parlayed the notoriety from the Julius Caesar incident into a kind of internet celebrity on the pro-Trump right. The problem with celebrity, though, is that it can give you too many opportunities to show yourself. And Loomer proved to be someone with truly out-there opinions. After an ISIS supporter killed eight people with a truck in November 2017, she went on an Islamophobic rant on Twitter, blaming popular ride-hailing apps for employing Muslim drivers. “Someone needs to create a non Islamic form of Uber or Lyft because I never want to support another Islamic immigrant driver,” she wrote. The two services subsequently banned her, the first of many bans from high-profile tech platforms.

[...] This particular cocktail of hate speech and conspiracy theory misinformation became the hallmark of Loomer’s political style, prompting bans from major social media platforms. The straw that broke the camel’s back on Twitter, for example, came in November 2018 when Loomer tweeted that Rep. Ilhan Omar (D-MN) supported female genital mutilation because she is Muslim. In response to the ban, which came a year after Twitter stripped her blue check mark (then something given to notable people rather than a badge to be purchased) as punishment for similar false and offensive claims, Loomer physically chained herself to Twitter’s headquarters in New York while wearing a Nazi-style yellow star. It’s worth noting here that Loomer is Jewish but has long had tight links to the white nationalist movement. She is, for example, close with the avowed anti-Semite Nick Fuentes who dined with Trump in 2022, and once broadly boasted that “I’m going to fight for white people.”

Presenting herself as a victim of Big Tech censorship, she found allies in popular far-right publications like Breitbart as well as in Washington. In December 2019, then-President Trump retweeted a Loomer supporter calling for donations to her campaign. In May 2020, Rep. Paul Gosar (R-AZ) sent a letter to Attorney General Bill Barr calling on him to open an investigation into Loomer’s Facebook ban. She was reinstated on Twitter after Elon Musk’s purchase of the site.

[...]

Why Laura Loomer matters

There is a reason that Laura Loomer has even Marjorie Taylor Greene panicking, and it’s not just that the two reportedly have personal beef. It’s that Laura Loomer makes the rest of the Republican Party look terrible. For decades, right-wing flirtation with racism has taken place through dog whistles and coded messages. Ronald Reagan’s attacks on “welfare queens” didn’t involve actual racist slurs but conjured up a mental image for some white voters of a poor lazy Black woman exploiting taxpayer dollars to live comfortably. Liberals would call this rhetoric racism, conservatives would say liberals are just trying to shut down legitimate debate, and round-and-round we went. [...] But after capitulating to Trump, the GOP fell back into its old habits. No matter how outrageous Trump’s rhetoric and even his actions became — from the Muslim ban to family separation — liberal critiques were met with the same kinds of dismissals. Trump’s rhetoric about immigration and crime can’t be racist, they would say; he’s just speaking the language of forgotten Americans left behind by globalization. Liberals, they’d say, are making everything about race when it’s not.

Vox gives an insightful overview into the right-wing MAGA shill that's too toxic for even MTG and virulently anti-Islam hack Laura Loomer.

See Also:

MMFA: Donald Trump and “pro-white nationalism” pundit Laura Loomer: A guide to their relationship

MMFA: Trump amplified Laura Loomer on Truth Social over 20 times in 9 months

[razielim]

Instagram post: Typical Instagram™️ motivational/inspirational content.

Someone in comments: This is like tumblr quotes for men.

??????????????

Meanwhile, me trying to explain to my friends and family tonight why mom NEEDS to send me a funny Julius Caesar image so I can schedule it for next year: Yeah it's the biggest holiday of the year, we celebrate it for weeks in advance but ngl I don't think I was the only one who was secretly a little bummed we didn't get to stab each other this year. On some level, I really thought there was a chance bc we got to beat the shit out each other on Halloween, you know? The site was completely unusable bc all the notifications were just thousands of kitty paws

GPOY my audience:

[thoughtfullyrainynightmare]

Request: heeeyaaa Laura.. I hope you're doing fine. I'm here again for request, sorry can't get enough with your writing. It always makes me happy whenever i read here in your account..i hope you don't mind me asking a request again and again.. For my request can i have a HC for Nozel, Fuegoleon and Julius being needy and wants to have sexy time with s/o and trying to give a hint to them. If you're not comfortable on doing this it's fine by me.. Don't stop writing because i know a lot of your followers not just me is in love your works...^^

A/N: Hiya! I’m doing okay. Uni is easying on me, but I will have about a week where I will be working, while still having a couple of exams. But y’know. It’s life ^^’ 

We haven’t had smut on this blog for a good while, so it’s more than the time for it. So, I do hope that you like these! ^^

Pairing: Nozel x gn!reader, Fuegoleon x gn!reader, Julius x gn!reader Fanfic type: Headcanons Genre: smut Total length: ~1.0k Warnings: suggestive themes, the guys are being needy but are trying to be subtle about it (or then not), minors DNI

Nozel

Nozel has always had trouble expressing, verbally, what he wishes. It is merely a matter of not finding the right words, as they can sound rather vulgar in his mind. ‘Vulgar’ in the sense that he doesn’t want to sound like he’s insisting, like he’d have such desires. While in fact he does.

If he sees that lustful twinkle in the corner of your eyes, he has no issue with taking charge and merely scooping you into his arms, taking you by the hand, and ravishing your neck while leaving hungry kisses all over your skin. And at times, when he’s feeling devoid, the gracing of his teeth.

But when it comes from him, from his own carnal desires, taking charge seems too straight forward. Too insisting. Unfitting for a noble. He is not a brute, mind you.

The trouble is, that he grows so frustrated from it. To not know how to approach you about it, when all he’d really need to do is whisper ‘I want you’ into your ear. But to him it can’t be something so simple. And even in that there is the idea of insisting to him. Which he doesn’t wish to do. It is not something for him to insist.

So, you’d see him growing more irritated, which in all honesty could be about anything. It could be about work, about politics, someone irritating… Or… then it could be about how the fabric of his trousers seems to be growing too snug…

His eyes would narrow into a near glare, and his jaw would be tense, which would be only really visible when he winds up close to you… So, very very… close~

And there is the hint. In how he lingers around you, nearly over you, with those hungry eyes and a tense jaw while struggling to withhold from shifting in his seat. Which he does.

“Hmm~” you’d need to hum, and look at him with a smirk, and he’d know, that you know.

Fuegoleon

He wouldn’t have an issue with speaking out a gentle love confession to your ear, or perhaps even whispering something deliciously lustful into your ear… but such words are reserved for the bedroom, and not for places where anyone can hear. Because your private life should be private.

Thus, he dares not approach you too keenly, too much with intent. Because surely there is time, and opportunity, later. Surely.

But there is such sweet anguish having to simply look at you, there, being so irresistible, especially when he may not. Or should not. Or… perhaps he’d may and could, and it’d be a wish, a desire of a mere mortal man that he was, and a wish that involved his beloved, so it was more than mere carnal desire but… Still. He could think and try to reason to himself about it endlessly, but it’d do very little to quench the passion within him.

He is a man of passion, after all.

So, he’d need to be content in watching, and waiting. Because he does have self-restraint. He can wait. He might not like it, but it doesn’t matter. He’s not controlled by his desires.

But… you could see how his brows would be furrowed, and his breathing would grow heavier, nearly animalistic. Like a lion growling under his breath. And you’d recognize those eyes, the gaze he’d give you; his bedroom eyes that seem to tell you ‘I must have you’.

And if you’d want to tease him further, you could. You could see him practically squirm in his seat, while it’d be only internal. Under that surface of calm, would be a storm, for which you’d pay, later, in the best possible way. With your gasps and moans~

Julius

Julius is a tease, and knows it. And he knows that you know it. But there’s a fun in it, in being a bit of a tease.

He’s start with a smirk that would be… a bit smug, a bit more than the smirk he usually gives. And it’d be accompanied with a compliment of any kind. “You look lovely today”, “you’re having a good hair day today dear”, “is that a new shirt, looks good on you.” But in them there would be a hidden depth, the kind that you’ve never been able to quite put your finger on. Like there was a sentence left unspoken. Such as “and you’d look lovelier on the bed”, “but you make bedhead look amazing”, “but you’d look better without any.”

And he knows that he has time magic on this side, so he could just steal you away any time that would seem suitable. Not even necessarily convenient, but suitable for the two of you.

He’d touch your hand, or arm, place his broad hand onto your back and just… smirk at you. And in that smirk there’d be a hint of sins heaven has to offer.

Especially when he leans closer, and whispers to your ear “want to go somewhere? For a moment…?” And he’d click his tongue, just enough to make butterflies flutter in your stomach and warmth course through you.

But he’d always pull away at a convenient moment to look composed and non-suspecting to others. Another thing that comes with his teasing.

The delicate balance of a teasing touch, a smirk, and words whispered in a way that they’re whispered to only a lover. He’s both a very subtle, and a non-subtle man. Which makes it infuriatingly delicious.

[sanityshorror]

You're hardly online and rarely post anymore 😔 please come back San, me and many others miss you and your art 😔

I'm sorry😭💔 I'm just really, really, really, really....reeeeealllllllyyyyy...busy these days ☹️ my schedule used to be much more flexible, though honestly I've been pretty damn busy for a few years now. The only reason I was actually able to invest so much time into Julius, Hellcrew, art, writing, etc back in 2022-mid 2023 was cuz of covid. But once everything really started going back to normal by summer '23, I just didn't have the time I used to. Ever since then my output of content and time spent online has been on a continuous decline, you can literally look back and see lol. But, this January I skedaddled my ass back into school. Given that I'm a grown ass adult, it goes without saying I have a lot of responsibilities in the first place, but going back to school has really eaten up all the free time (and energy...) that I did have prior to going back. Sooo... Yeah 💔 I'm sorry and I wish I could still be constantly working on projects and putting out new stuff and so on, but like, I just genuinely can't these days. To the point where I've had commissions closed for some time now and literally have no idea when I'll take more, cuz I'm just so busy that I'm lucky if I get more than 1 day a week to actually sit down and focus and art for a few solid hours 😭💔 same things with writing, I hardly have the time and when I do...I'm just so exhausted and brain dead💔

All that said, I don't have any plans to end The Hellcrew Project. Quite the opposite, in fact! It's just that... Well, I want to take The Hellcrew to a new level lol ya know? I have a video game I want to make (doubt that one will happen cuz that game would be a huge budget and need an entire studio), I want to direct films and probably a show as well, I want to really do the comics right, I want to improve my writing skills.. And of course my art skills. But! All these things are gonna take time and I just unfortunately can't promise I'll be posting content regularly anytime soon, and I definitely cannot promise I'll be active online the way I used to be. If anything, I'll probably continue becoming less active online. It's a waste of time that I could be using to create lol. Like, perfect example, right now I'm yapping instead of drawing lol /lh

Anyway, I will do my best and just like... Stay tuned patiently, I promise good shit is on the horizon

[krawkpaladin]

I've been continuing to work on Winning the Peace for the past few months, though life has gotten in the way a lot. Very busy with a surgery, planning a wedding, running two games, general exhaustion, etc.

It's been mostly working on layout and making player sheets and references. While the game jam was very good for getting the content written, it really did not prepare me to actually put it together into something more readable, which really doesn't make for good update posts. Also, the events oracle is like 20 8.5" x 11" pages, so it's very unwieldy in its current state, so I'm making a truncated reference that basically just has the mechanical effects.

I did get the opportunity to playtest it though with my local group due to some scheduling issues meaning we couldn't do our planned Girl by Moonlight game. A lot of things went well. The core voting system worked really well, and community creation runs smoothly. It looks like each year will take about an hour of play, so a full story/campaign should take roughly 3-4 sessions of 3-4 hours each. Some of the moves needed clarification, and a few need complete reworks of their fictional triggers. There's a few sections that need updates though.

In their current state, Representatives are functioning less as characters and more like stat sticks. I'm playing around with a few ideas to make Representatives more impactful and actual characters, and I'm playing around with a few things with that. One part of that is limiting the number of Debate Moves that can be used per year to make the choices more meaningful. The other part I am workshopping right now is having players define Representative's drives/personal values, and having those interact with the dice rolls for Debate Moves. Basically, if a Representative is taking an action in line with their personal beliefs, the roll is improved, while taking an action in opposition makes the roll worse. And these values aren't necessarily aligned with the Community's interests or needs, and don't affect the placement of votes, only Debate Moves. Still workshopping the exact mechanic though.

The other part I want to look at is the Event resolution. Currently, Events are resolved in whichever order the table chooses, largely because I was concerned about difficulty, but the issue is that a lot of Community Moves will then almost never trigger. So I'm planning on testing events drawn in order, or maybe having events resolve in suit order. Again, it's going back to the drawing board.

Once I have these changes written up, alongside the play materials, I'll post another update and get everything uploaded to Itchio. Life is going to continue to be super busy for the next few months, but I am hoping to have all of this done by June/July. So keep an eye out for all that.

Hope to have some more updates soon! Please enjoy Julius doing his best impression of me over the past several weeks.

(Also, on a completely unrelated note, I got to meet the official artist for the Fabula Ultima ttjrpg at C2E2 and got my book signed! Huzzah!)

[chloe-caulfield94]

alt Chloe has a gift for alt Max

Max and Chloe went to the bow of the cruise ship, to enjoy the setting sun. Max noticed that there was a small present box resting on Chloe’s lap, wrapped up in a bow.

         “I have something for you, Max. Open it!”

         Max untied the bow and removed the lid. Inside there was a wreath made out of dark green oak leaves, with a few acorns still attached.

         For an obvious reason, Max watched a lot of movies with Chloe. Some weeks after moving to Seattle, they started watching “Rome”, an HBO series taking place in the ancient days of the Eternal City. There had already been multiple seasons made and more were on their way. Max and Chloe liked the series very much and they steadily devoured episode after episode, season after season.

         In one of the early episodes, young Julius Caesar, still a mere footsoldier, saved the life of a comrade-in-arms. For that he was presented with a “civic crown” - a wreath of oak leaves. That prized award was handed out as a symbol of ultimate achievement - saving a fellow Roman’s life. It was made out of leaves, not out of gold or silver, because saving a life was considered to be an award in its own right. Max remembered that she geeked out hard after watching that episode, because the battle in which Caesar earned his civic crown took place at the city of Mitylene on the island of Lesbos, which was the home to the famed poet Sappho. The island is also the place where the novel “Daphnis and Chloe” by Longus is set, which is a story of two young souls who were raised together, but just as they were about to understand that they loved each other, were separated by cruel fate. But in the end, after many, many hardships, including an abduction by pirates, they were reunited and married.

         At Chloe’s side Max quickly learnt that geeking out was okay. In her Vortex Club days Max mistakenly believed that one should be blase about everything to come off as cool. Now she knew that caring about things and especially about other people was not only cool, but it was the only way to gain meaning in life.

         Listening to Max’s geekout about Lesbos, Sappho and ancient romance novels, Chloe smiled and nodded. But Max noticed that she wasn’t smiling with her eyes. At the time, she thought that Chloe was simply tired or that she had another one of her headaches. But now she knew what was the reason. Seeing young Caesar carrying his friend’s limp body, a rain of arrows falling all around them, must’ve reminded Chloe of the Storm.

         Chloe explained the contents of the box: “It’s an award for saving a life. Like you saved mine. In more ways than one”.

         Max touched the wreath with her fingertips.

         Chloe continued: “Obviously, I didn’t pick them myself. Remember how a few weeks ago Kristen and Fernando took me to the park when you had to stay late at work? They helped me pick the leaves. And make them into a wreath. And tie a bow on the box. While it was customary to use leaves from the place where the deed took place, you don’t have to worry. I know you don’t want anything to do with Arcadia Bay, not after the revelations about Jefferson and Nathan. These are decent Seattle leaves”.

         Max gazed at the wreath, as if mesmerized.

         Chloe fretted: “I’m sorry, I know it’s silly …”

         “No! It’s not silly”.

Looking her wife deep in the eyes, Max placed the wreath on her own brow. “I feel like a triumphing emperor. Your life, our love - those are the only things worth fighting for to me. Thank you for this gift, Chloe. I will never stop fighting for us”.

Chloe smiled and said: “During a triumph, an emperor always had a servant at their side, telling them that they were only human. That was to remind them that even in their moment of triumph they were merely mortal. Now, in your moment of triumph, I’m telling you - you are more than a human. You are my angel”.

         “Chloe, I don’t know what to say”.

         “Kiss me, then”.

         After their lips parted, Max kept gazing at her wife. Chloe’s head was crowned with a golden halo placed on it by the light of the setting sun. On the day of her wedding reception, Max should feel joyous and hopeful. She should dream about the future. She should feel like it was the first day of the rest of her life. And she did feel that way. She was full of joy and hope. She imagined all the beautiful moments of love ahead of them. But she also felt fear and unease. She knew they were living on borrowed time.

         She grabbed Chloe’s hand and placed her other hand on her wife’s cheek. Chloe, who had been looking over at the sea, smiled, finding Max’s face to be an even more pleasant view than the sun rays dancing on water.

         Max spoke, utmost determination on her face, honesty and power in her voice: “Chloe, we already swore to be with each other until death parts us. Now I’m taking another oath. I swear to be with you always. I won’t allow anything to part us. I won’t let our love be broken by death. I won’t let it take you. I don’t know how, but …”

         Chloe wished she could touch her wife. To reassure her. But she couldn’t. She could only use her words.

“Max, you have already saved me from death. You have saved both my body and my soul. Before you came back, I wished only for death. Now I only wish for life and love. Life with you. Your love. You’re right, what we have is too strong to be broken, even by death. So I swear to be with you, always, too”.

         They kissed again, two silhouettes against the setting sun, their dresses blue as the sea.

Continue reading: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51515176/chapters/130195735

[britneyshakespeare]

I have been sitting on the floor in the early-modern English section of my college library a lot lately. Incidences of at least one time per week. But truly when you get over your pride and just sit on the floor the skim the books in a particularly interesting section of the library is the best. Unrestrained summer fun.

As is no secret I do like to browse various Complete Works of Shakespeare, and there was one with a particularly vague spine, I'm pretty sure it had been rebound? From its original binding? A lot of the books in this library have these hard plastic bindings that I'm pretty sure are not what they originally came in and it's very strange to me. I know I'm not actually very experienced with lots of libraries (being from an extremely small town with an underfunded one, and other than that only having attended a community college with a pretty small library too)... but it's very strange and I'd never seen it before. I opened up to find out which company published it and when, but the page with the publication info seemed to be missing? I couldn't even find the general editor? But it WAS a sufficient edition with like, original notes and prefatory material. So it was strange.

It seemed to have been previously owned by a particular person who annotated VERY heavily. Either that or somebody read several plays and vandalized the shit out of a library book. The first random page I flipped to, just wanting to see what the footnotes situation might be, was the first page of Richard III, and I was struck how EVERY. SINGLE. PAGE of this VERY LONG play was thoroughly annotated in small, messy handwriting. Lots of highlighting and underlining too of course. Mostly the annotations seemed to be summaries of what was happening, but still I found it very charming. I noticed that when I flipped at random to Much Ado About Nothing, everything was completely blank, making a very clear distinction between what this person read from this edition, and what they did not read. I immediately wanted to go through and see which were the plays they read and annotated.

So the plays they read, which were all furiously annotated on every page in the like manner, were (in order of the table of contents): Richard III, Titus Andronicus, the introduction to Love's Labor's Lost but seemingly not the play, Richard II, Romeo and Juliet, the introduction to A Midsummer Night's Dream but seemingly not the play (what an L on this one), the Merchant of Venice (this was still annotated on every page, but maybe with like still 20% of the margin space left, which I'm wondering if it meant it was either the first or last play they read in this copy?), Henry V, Julius Caesar, Twelfth Night, Hamlet, Othello, the introduction to Measure for Measure but seemingly not the play, and Macbeth.

And then out of nowhere, the Tempest is sparingly annotated, in what is unmistakably an entirely different person's hand. Original owner used only black pen and wrote in very small characters; this person had varying-size penmanship and wrote in a variety of ink and graphite. They also didn't take up 100% of the margins at all times. I don't know who this impostor was that read the Tempest, perhaps a friend of my beloved former possessor of this mysteriously anonymous Complete Works of Shakespeare (after flipping through all of their annotations, we are bosom-friends now)... I don't know. The mystery remains.

I did not take high quality pictures but I was so shocked when I flipped to Richard III I just had to document it

Every. Single. Page is filled like this (I did go back and read their annotations to I.ii because I wanted to experience the scene with them) (I did not take pictures of it but perhaps I should later)

And. PS. Nobody seemingly read and annotated Antony and Cleopatra, but there is some arithmetic on the first page of the introduction. Lol

[stephen-i-suppose]

PART 2 IAN SPAGHETTI

I love yapping. There is going to be 2 or more Ian Spaghetti Lore Drops. Stay tuned for those and the other Spaghettiverse posts that will come out. I know my fanbase is just me and a few irl friends, but I want to share Ian with a larger audience and actually get fanart n all that. I'm very passionate about the Spaghettiverse. ENJOY MY OC LORE.

Trigger warning: Mentions of SH, Death

Content warning: Swearing

Two terms into Year 10, Ian is asked out by a girl in his science set. Her name was Evangeline, and she was an absolute beauty. He had been so focused on science that he never noticed her staring at him all lesson. That was the woman he would marry. They spent hours and hours talking and doing homework together. It was a loving and supporting relationship, no matter the useless arguments on food and what not.

Ian went to college. Julius adopted 9 pets to cope with not having his son at home. He eventually remarried to a. 37 year old woman by the name of Elsie Just. Elsie was everything that Julius was missing since Giulia had lost her life. No matter what Elsie did, Ian knew that she cannot replace his real mother who sacrificed herself to give her husband want he always wanted, his own baby boy. Julius had no care for Giulia despite her giving her life to appease him.

After 5 years of Ian and Eva's relationship, he finally asked for her hand in marriage. They had just turned 20, it was too early for his sweet Evangeline. She tried to avoid answering from weeks, until one day. Eva and Ian got into an argument over to engagement. It ended in a SH relapse, a nearly broken relationship, and a half-assed apology.

Immediately after they had made up, Evangeline had convinced Ian to move to her hometown. Bringing his lifelong companion ( a sweet calico cat ) Gianni alongside him, Ian moved to Wales with his beautiful fiancé to start a family. They had planned a life ahead of them; three or more children, two cats, and long-lasting marriage. It was only the start of a journey that would drag on and on.

[hippiegoth97]

Diary of a Hawkins Hussy: A Stranger Things x Reader Anthology

Banner by me :)

Master List

Content Warning 18+ Only, Minors DNI: smut, swearing, heavy kissing/groping, mentions of heartbreak, light crying, oral sex, unprotected sex, lots of praise, dirty talk, fluff

Word Count: 10.9k

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Diary Entry #7: Steve Harrington

May 30th, 1985

Dear diary,

Today is the grand opening of Starcourt. The whole town has been buzzing about it for weeks. Even Alex and Julie are excited to check it out, despite hearing my numerous diatribes about how malls kill small business. But I suppose that's just how things go. Everyone likes the shiny, new things. Long-term consequences be damned.

The store is completely dead today. Hell, most of downtown is quiet and empty. I only hope the novelty of Starcourt will wear off soon enough, and people will realize where quality product and exceptional customer service truly comes from. A true, personal touch is what keeps people coming back, not some corporate-mandated mannerisms and brain-dead training videos. Just you wait and see. In a few weeks, they'll be back.

June 7th, 1985

Dear diary,

I decided to bite the bullet and check out the mall. I figure it doesn't hurt to get an idea of what I'm up against. I had no intention whatsoever of purchasing anything, mind you. Except maybe a snack. Sleuthing tends to work up an appetite, you know. I drove over there in the early afternoon, and it was exactly as I'd expected. A huge, hulking building with a ridiculously large parking lot. It was almost completely packed outside, which tracks for a Friday at the beginning of summer. Well, that, and the fact that the mall has only been open for a week.

When I walked inside, I was��honestly shocked to see just how clean and shiny the whole place was. Two stories hosting an endless array of shops and restaurants, the first sets of escalators to ever grace our sleepy little town, even a fancy water feature. It was worse than I thought. And that was before I even scouted out my direct competition. Sam Goody. Ugh, it was awful, diary. They must've sent a spy to my damn store, because all of their records and cassettes just barely undercut my already measly prices! I have no idea how they make a profit like that, they were practically giving the shit away!

I couldn't bear to stay in what essentially is a death sentence for Waxed Out, so I left the store and walked around the mall aimlessly for a while. I felt helpless, honestly. There's no way I can feasibly compete with them, it's only a matter of time before I'm out of business. I can't believe I went all in on this damn shop. I can't believe I talked myself out of taking the Mayor's deal. But who am I kidding? That deal could've been complete bullshit anyway, that man is not to be trusted.

After what felt like hours of walking, though I'm sure it was only a few minutes of moping, I happened upon the foodcourt. 'Oh, yes', I thought to myself. 'Some fattening food ought to drown my intense dread and sorrow'. I looked around at the choices, letting my stomach make the decision for me. Imperial Panda, too salty. Hot Dog On a Stick, too greasy. Orange Julius, too citrusy. And then my eyes fell upon a nautical-themed ice cream shop. Scoops Ahoy...

Bring on the empty calories, you think to yourself as you approach the rather long line at the ice cream parlor. It's a cute place, with the employees dressed in sailor outfits and particularly nautical sounding music playing over the speakers. You get behind the mass of ten people waiting to be served, allowing yourself to space out while looking at the menu. You're thinking a USS Butterscotch sounds nice. A big, messy sundae to stuff your sad face with and forget all about your troubles for a little while. The line moves pretty quickly, thanks to the two young kids scooping their butts off behind the counter. Your eyes wander, noticing there's only a couple people that have gathered behind you now. You suppose the lunch rush is beginning to die down.

It's eventually your turn, and you find yourself face to face with one of the prettiest young men you've ever seen. He has fluffy brown hair, slightly smushed and pushed outward by the white sailor hat on his head, embroidered with the word 'Ahoy' in blue thread. Well-groomed brows rest casually above his gorgeous brown eyes. He's got a strong nose and jawline, and plush, pink lips that almost shine in the fluorescent lights above you. His skin is fair and healthy, with a few small beauty marks gracing his flawless complexion. In one word, he is hot. You notice those kissable lips of his moving as he speaks, but don't you register a single syllable. You're too focused on admiring his handsome face.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?" You ask dreamily, snapping yourself out of your trance. A light blush creeps up your cheeks for ogling in the middle of the line.

His smile grows from your reaction, finding your attraction rather flattering. He repeats himself, no doubt speaking in a more flirtatious tone this time. "Ahoy! What can I get for you?" He asks cheerfully, giving you a subtle once-over with his eyes.

"Uh..." You start, cheeks growing redder by the second. It's not like you to be so bashful. Usually, this kind of interaction goes the other way around. You suppose it has been a while, though. You've been avoiding dating and hook-ups like the plague ever since Scott ended things. "Sorry. Um, I'll have a USS Butterscotch, please!" You finally get the words out, though they spill out of your mouth in a rushed half-yell. Jesus christ, what is up with me today?

"Of course. Is there anything else I can get for you?" The young man says with a chuckle.

Your phone number, you think, but don't dare say. You doubt he'd be interested, he's far too attractive to waste his time on the likes of you. Plus, he's busy working. You don't want to hold him up. "N-no, thank you. That's it for me." You answer nervously, reaching for your wallet inside your purse.

"Aye, aye, Captain." He says, giving you a playful salute and a wink while he punches in your order. "That'll be $2.50."

"Here's five. Keep the change." You give the crisp bill to him, your hand trembling slightly. You really don't know what's gotten into you, but you're making a total fool of yourself.

"Thanks. It'll be right up." He gives you a charming smile.

"Thank you...Steve." You say, pausing to read his little red name tag. You step off to the side, waiting for your sundae to be ready. The girl working with Steve, who's own tag says 'Robin' calls out your order a couple minutes later. You grab it and a red plastic spoon, and take it over to one of the booths inside the shop. You sit down on the leathery cushion, and finally feel like you can breathe again. You're thankfully facing away from the register, hiding yourself as your flushed face falls into your hands for a minute. You feel like an absolute idiot for being so bumbly and flustered. You sigh deeply, raising your head and letting your arms fall to rest on the table.

What a day it has been. You've found out just how bad things are truly going to get for your store, and you managed to look like a complete ass in front of a cute sailor that sells ice cream. At this point, all you want to do is gobble down your rapidly melting snack and get the fuck out of here. You pick up your spoon, and dig into the ship-shaped sundae. You lift the messy bite of banana, whipped topping, and butterscotch ice cream to your lips, and take the whole thing inside your mouth without another thought. It's cold, and sweet, immediately sending all your woes running for the hills. You moan quietly in satisfaction as you swallow, ready to dive in for another bite.

"That good, huh?" Steve says, suddenly taking the seat across from you in the booth.

"Uh, yeah. It is. What are you—" You start to ask what he's up to, wondering why he isn't helping his rather surly-looking coworker.

"I'm on break, don't worry. I noticed you were a little flustered back there." He cuts you off, leaning back into the seat to get comfortable.

"Yeah. Sorry, you're just...um, really— cute. I guess." You explain clumsily, your ears and neck heating up along with your face this time. You stare at your ice cream, unable to meet his eyes.

"Thanks. So are you." Steve replies, like it's nothing at all.

"Thank you." You say meekly, absent-mindedly picking at your food.

"You might want to eat more of that soon. It's gonna melt." He says, encouraging you to take another bite. You do, scooping up another hearty spoonful. And once you take it in your mouth, chew, and swallow, you feel far more in your element.

"Sorry." You lift your head up to finally meet his gaze. "I'm not usually like this. You know, all blushing and...sweaty." You laugh at yourself, finding an amused look on his face. "It's just been a while since I've put myself out there." You say honestly, though you're unsure Steve wants to hear about your personal problems.

"It's alright, really. I think it's sweet. I haven't really been 'out there' much lately, either." He replies, which surprises you.

"What? A total dreamboat like you? No way!" You giggle in disbelief, but his face falling makes it die off. "I'm sorry. Bad breakup?" You tut, reaching your hand across the table to put it over his.

"Yeah. You could say that. You?" Steve says with a sigh, warming slightly at your touch. It's been quite some time since he's had a girl touch him, in any capacity. A couple stray butterflies form in his stomach, flapping anxiously against the internal walls.

"Same. I..." You trail off again, wondering if it's a good idea to tell him what's on your mind. "...I thought he could be 'the one', ya know? But life got in the way, and—" You stop again when his eyes meet yours, widened in understanding. It's like you've told him everything, without really saying a word. He knows how you feel, because he's been in a similar place himself. "Well, anyway. You get it." You brush off the subject, pulling your hand away.

"Yeah. Yeah, I really do." Steve says, laughing dryly. "Shit, I gotta get back. But lemme give you my number." He says, pulling a napkin out of the dispenser on the table, and a pen from the pocket of his apron. He scrawls his number down on it, sliding it over to you. "Maybe we can help each other get over our exes. Or, whatever." He shrugs, still trying to come off casual.

"Sure. I'd like that. Or whatever." You tease, mimicking his shrug with a laugh.

"It was nice meeting you, uh..." Steve pauses, searching for the name you didn't give him.

"Y/N." You answer, and he nods.

"Y/N." He repeats, finding it to be a very pretty name. "Great. Well, enjoy that sundae, and call me. I'll see you around." Steve says, walking backwards towards the counter. You can't help giggling when he almost slips on a spilled glob of Cherries Jubilee, his shoe squeaking loudly against the tile floor. He barely catches himself by grabbing the edge of the counter, his chest heaving. He straightens himself out, and gives you a small wave. His cheeks burn bright red, which only makes him look cuter than he did before. You wiggle your fingers back at him, and turn around to finish your treat and head home.

June 8th, 1985

Dear diary,

As much as my trip to Starcourt left me feeling really gutted about where Waxed Out is probably heading, it was nice to meet Steve. I didn't catch his last name, or learn very much about him at all. But I've still got the napkin with his number written on it, and I fully intend to use it. I think I'll wait until after the mall closes, though. Just in case he has to work the evening shift. Plus, late-night conversation tends to be far more entertaining.

I'm not saying I want to know everything about him, just the basics. This feels like a rebound right from the jump. But I don't mind. I need this, diary. I need one good fuck to get over Scott, it's been so long since I've brought anyone into my bed. Or been in anyone else's bed, for that matter. I feel so cold and lonely at night, despite the summer taking a firm hold on Hawkins. And even though whatever is going to happen between Steve and I will surely be a one-time thing, I know we have one thing in common. Heartbreak. We can talk all of our shit out together, and then kiss it better. Well, hopefully more than just kissing. But you get the point.

June 9th, 1985

Dear diary,

I called Steve last night. It was really nice talking to him. He's very sweet, and funny, too. We talked about our exes, and got to know each other a little bit. We also made plans for him to come over tomorrow night after his shift...

You carefully read the crumpled napkin in your hand, punching the digits into the phone. Once you've pushed the final number in, it starts to ring. It takes a couple rounds of that vibrating tone for your call to be picked up, possibly catching Steve right as he walks through the door after work. There's a small crackle on the other end as the call is accepted, and the sound of someone clearing their throat before speaking

"Harrington residence." You hear Steve's voice say in his usual cool tone.

"H-hey, Steve. It's Y/N, from the other day?" You reply nervously, hoping he remembers you.

"I was wondering when you'd call. Had me worried for a minute there." He says smoothly, and you can practically hear his smirk through the phone.

"Well, I-I didn't wanna seem too desperate." You laugh, causing him to chuckle too.

"It's not desperate at all, Y/N. I gave you my number, remember?" He reminds you, putting you at ease. There's no need to be so nervous. He likes you, he wanted you to call him.

"No, I know. I just...well, I—" You struggle to find the words to explain why you waited, but he finds the answer for you.

"I know. It's that whole 'putting yourself out there' thing." Steve says calmly, finding your fumbling rather sweet. It's been a very long time since he's made a pretty young thing like you get so out of sorts.

"Yeah." You sigh, rolling your eyes at your continued mess-ups. You used to be so good at this. It used to be second nature to you. But your confidence has been rocked to its core, and it'll take far longer than you'd like to build it back up again.

"Just relax, Y/N. Let's start with the easy stuff, hm?" He suggests, and you nod. Easy stuff, that'll work.

Realizing he can't see you bobbing your head like an idiot, you speak up. "Sure. You first."

"Where do you work?" He asks, getting right into it. You don't mind that one bit, though. This'll surely become easier as the conversation goes on.

"I actually own Waxed Out Records downtown." You answer, leaving out the part where the mall is going to put you out of business. There's no need to be negative right now.

"You own it? That's awesome!" Steve lights up, very impressed by you.

"Thanks, I appreciate that, Steve." You chuckle, glad he finds that interesting. "My turn. How old are you?" You ask, biting your lip. You feel like a silly teenager again, twirling the cord of the phone around your fingers.

"Eighteen. Just graduated in the spring. What about you? You seem pretty young to own a store all by yourself."

"I'm twenty, getting pretty close to twenty-one. I started working at the store after I graduated in '83, and quickly worked my way up. Music is my passion. Well, listening to it, at least." You explain, ending on an amused giggle.

"That's really impressive, Y/N. I'll consider myself lucky if I can move up one rung of the Scoops Ahoy corporate ladder." He jokes.

"Oh, I'm sure there's something else you wanna do with you life besides scooping ice cream. Isn't there?" You ask, noting the tinge of sadness in his voice.

"I honestly have no idea. Everyone else seems to have it all figured out. But, me? I couldn't even get into a goddamn community college." Steve says bitterly, making your heart sink.

"Trust me, Steve. No one has it all figured out. People make it look like they do, because they're thinking the same thing you are. That's all." You try to comfort him, though you aren't sure the words from almost a complete stranger are going to help much. "What do you like to do? What's something that sounds like fun?" You question, thinking maybe turning the subject more positive will be useful to him.

"I dunno, Y/N." He says quietly.

"It can be anything. Doesn't matter how unrealistic you think it is. Just blurt it out." You insist, and he thinks on it for a moment.

"I guess, I like kids. Or, more like kids like me. So...maybe a teacher, or something?" Steve answers with uncertainty.

"That sounds great. What kind of teacher?" You press on, thinking you're getting somewhere.

"Oh, gym, for sure. I'm very athletic." He replies cockily, which makes you smile.

"Yeah, I can tell. That cute little sailor outfit of yours doesn't leave much to the imagination." You tease, recalling the blue shorts he was wearing that showed off his thick thighs and perfect ass. Your mouth waters at the thought, and your thighs rub together on the couch.

"You like that, huh?" Steve asks lowly, his tone sending a shiver up your spine.

"Normally, I'd think it's pretty dorky. But it looks really good on you." You reply, trying your best to keep things playful and light. For now.

"Thanks." He brightens at your compliment. He himself hates that uniform. But to know that you like it, that it shows off his assets, it makes him dislike it a little less. "Did you wanna talk about your ex?" Steve says abruptly, immediately wondering if he's just blown this whole thing.

"Sure. I'll show you mine, you show me yours." You say casually, and he hums in agreement. This is technically part of your little arrangement, painful as it is. He'll heal your broken heart, and then you'll do the same for him. "His name was Scott...Clark." You start slowly, hating to say that name out loud again.

"The science teacher?" Steve asks in shock. He has no idea what a beautiful young woman like you would see in an old dork like that. He also finds it hard to believe that such a non-threatening man would dare break your heart.

"Yes. He really was sweet, and kind, and smart." You say softly, tears pricking your eyes at the memories you made together.

"But he's old." Steve interjects, crinkling his nose.

"I don't care about stuff like that, Steve." You sigh, rolling your eyes at his rather rude comment. "And mid-thirties is not that old. But that's beside the point. We really cared about each other. I loved him, and he loved me too. But then his aunt got sick, and he had to leave town to take care of her until she died. I would've gone with him, if he would've let me." You finish, sitting in uncomfortable silence afterwards. You're a bit worried Steve hung up on you, until he pipes up again.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I shouldn't have said that. It sounds like you two had a good thing going, and I'm sorry he left you behind." Steve says sincerely, feeling extremely bad for his comment. You're clearly more mature than him, he could probably learn a thing or two from you.

"It's alright. You're still a kid, you don't get it yet. But you will." You sniffle lightly, wiping your eyes. You hope Steve doesn't hear the sounds of your gentle crying, it would be rather embarrassing. "Alright. Your turn." You exhale shakily, trying to ignore the pain you still hold inside your chest.

"You got it." He says kindly, preparing to pour his own hurt out on top of yours. "Her name was Nancy Wheeler. We dated in high school for a couple years, I was a year ahead of her. God, she was perfect. Smart, beautiful, everything a guy could want. I thought we were happy. Maybe we were, for a while. But then she said our relationship was bullshit, essentially. She didn't love me. I think I was just the first guy to give her any real attention. I sure as shit loved her, though." He ends on an unsteady breath, putting himself in the exact same position as you are. Still so deep within the pit of yearning and despair. It appears you need one another more than ever now.

"Oh, Steve. That's terrible. I'm so sorry." You tut, unsure what else to say. You're definitely familiar with Nancy, you've seen her around town with Jonathan Byers. You never got the impression that she was such a heartbreaker, though.

"Yeah, well, thanks." He scoffs, running his hand through his mane of hair. "Guess we both kinda suck at love, huh?" He asks with a laugh, pulling one from you as well.

"You can say that again." You giggle, the sorrow in the air beginning to dissipate. It feels good to talk to someone about all of this, especially someone that understands your situation so well. You haven't really kept any friends from high school. Everyone either moved away, or left you behind to pursue more lucrative social circles. So, you end up spending most of your time alone. "So, I'm guessing you didn't give me your number just to talk. Right?" You ask cautiously, not wanting to mess up the nice thing you seem to have going here.

"Uh, no. I was thinking that we could, ya know..." Steve trails off, attempting to put this delicately. But there's really no need for that.

"Hook up?" You finish his sentence for him.

"Yeah." He agrees, swallowing thickly. "Is that alright?"

"That's fine. Not a date, though. I'm not looking for anything serious." You make it very clear to him that you're only interested in keeping this casual.

"Me either." Steve replies shortly. "So, when should I come over?" He asks, becoming very eager to spend a night with you.

"How about tomorrow night?" You suggest, hoping that works for him

"Sounds good. It'll be a little late, though. I've got another closing shift."

"That's fine, Steve. I'll be up. And could you..." You start to ask him another question, but you're unsure you should.

"Could I what?" Steve asks, your apprehension piquing his interest.

"Could you...wear the uniform?" You get the sentence out, wincing once the words leave your lips. He probably thinks your a total freak now.

"Sure thing." He chuckles darkly.

You finish the phone call, giving him your address and setting a time. And once you both hang up, you're overcome with a intense feeling of excitement. This is exactly what you need after such a long period of solitude. You can tell, you're finally ready to get back out there. To continue one of the few life missions you've set up for yourself: to enjoy as much mind-blowing sex as you possibly can.

June 11th, 1985

Dear diary,

Oh my god, last night was just what I've been needing! Every single moment was perfect. Steve was so sweet, and careful, it was everything. I think I'm finally over this slump, and I can move on with my life...

Knock. Knock. Knock. You hear rapping on the door just as you've finished getting ready for tonight. You're not wearing anything all that special. Just a matching bra and panty set under some casual clothes, jet black lace that compliments your body perfectly. You leave your bedroom and go to open the door. You turn the knob and pull it open, finding Steve standing in the doorway.

"Ahoy." He says with a wink and a smile as he leans on the doorframe. He's dressed in his Scoops uniform, sans the apron. His hat is tipped to the side cheekily, and his eyes give you a once-over as he waits for you to let him inside.

"Ahoy there, sailor. Come in." You step back to let Steve inside, watching his ass as he walks past you. You bite your lip at the sight of it, so perfectly round in those little blue shorts. "Did you want a beer or soda, or something?" You ask once you close the door. You yourself have been indulging in a couple glasses of wine this evening, trying to calm your nerves for what you plan to do with your guest.

"Beer's fine." He replies casually, taking a seat on your couch and kicking off his shoes. He removes his little sailor hat, tossing it on the coffee table. A large hand runs through his hair to fluff it back up. You can't help staring at him for a moment as he does so, seeing the full volume of his chocolate locks only adds to his attractiveness. "Everything okay?" He asks with a grin, very amused with the needy look on your face. You've got it bad, and although Steve hides it better, so does he.

"Y-yeah. Sorry." You snap out of your trance, and quickly retrieve Steve's beverage from the fridge. "Here." You hand the can over to him, and he pops the top open to take a large sip. You take a seat beside him, leaning your elbow on the top of the sofa and sitting sideways to gaze at him some more. He's just so pretty, prettier than any man you've ever seen. You can't help sighing dreamily as you take in his beauty, admiring the way his lips hug the rim of the can, his eyes falling closed to reveal long lashes as he swallows. The bob of his Adam's apple as the beer washes down to his stomach, the satisfied sound he lets out as it cools him down on this rather hot night.

"You know, it's a bit rude to stare, Y/N." Steve teases, turning his head to look at you. He sets his drink down on the table, scooting closer to put himself right next to you.

"I know. But I can't help it. Have you looked in the mirror lately? You're gorgeous." You almost whine as you speak, acknowledging how much you're devouring him with your eyes, while also needing him to know just how handsome he truly is.

"Thanks. You're really beautiful too, ya know." He replies softly, the apples of his cheeks tinging pink.

"You really think so?" You ask playfully, reaching a hand forward to toy with the ends of the red neck tie on Steve's uniform.

"Oh, please. You know how attractive you are." Steve scoffs, lifting a hand to cup your face. He gives you a meaningful look, speaking again. "Everything about you is perfect. Your eyes, your smile, and that body...you're essentially sex on legs." He says honestly, feeding your confidence everything it needs to pull him towards you and press your lips to his.

"Mmm." You immediately melt into Steve, his own mouth quickly taking the lead. He brings an arm around you to pull your body towards his, and you crawl over to straddle his lap. His hands meet your ass, squeezing the cheeks roughly in his hands. You moan against his lips, rolling your hips to grind against him. He grunts at the friction, slipping his tongue inside your mouth to tangle with yours. He tastes like beer, and mint, and the slightest hint of...cherry lip gloss. You'd wondered what made his lips look so damn plump and kissable, and now it appears you've figured it out. "You taste really good, Steve." You pant between passionate kisses.

"Thanks, so do you." Steve replies hastily, unable to get enough of you. You're so fucking beautiful, he can't believe he's got you grinding in his lap and making out with him like your life depends on it. You're completely ravenous, all previous jitters having been thrown out the window. It becomes clear to him that this is your true self, a confident young woman that takes what she wants. And he finds it absolutely intoxicating.

You continue to moan and grind on the sofa for what feels like hours. Steve gently bucks his own hips up into yours to give you both even more friction. His hands keep a firm grip on your ass, not wanting to let go for a single second. Your own hands have weaved into his beautiful hair, which is so unbelievably soft to the touch. Steve's swollen lips break away from yours, rushed breaths escaping your mouths as oxygen fills your lungs again. His head lowers to kiss your neck, nipping ever so slightly to give you teeny tiny love bites. "Steve." You moan, so very wet inside your shorts. The fabric of your panties slips all around your pussy in the constant rocking of your hips. You imagine you've already made a wet spot on Steve's uniform by now, wondering if he can feel how much you want him.

"Can I take this off, baby?" Steve asks, ceasing his searing kisses on your throat and lifting his hand to tug at the hem of your shirt.

"Yeah." You swallow hard, your mouth has run dry from panting like a dog. You let him remove your shirt, tossing it away to the floor to reveal your bra.

"Damn." He chuckles at the sight of your tits in the luxe fabric, his large palms raising to cup and press them together in curiosity. You sigh lightly at his touch on you again, carefully reaching your arm behind you to pick up your wine glass. You bring it up to your lips, finishing the rest of it to rehydrate your mouth. You set the glass back down, and watch Steve play around with your boobs for a little while.

His hands move slowly and gently, his eyes glued to your chest as he melds your supple flesh in his grasp. He's completely mesmerized by you, admiring every slight wrinkle his movements make, the jiggle that occurs once he lets you go again. He's always loved tits more than anything else, though he's unsure why. There's just something...special about them. No two sets look the same, they come in all manner of shapes and sizes. He loves every single pair he's had the pleasure to see and touch. Big or small, squishy or firm, light and pink, dark and brown, everything in between. He adores them all in their uniqueness, along with the pretty noises that come out of whichever girl he's appreciating in this way.

You reach around your back to undo your bra, assuming Steve will be even more enamored if he can fully see the swells of your chest. The straps go slack on your shoulders, and his hands move out of the way for a moment so you can discard it altogether. It joins your shirt on the carpet, and his eyes widen as he lets out an appreciative groan.

"God, you're gorgeous." He says softly, his eyes flicking to meet yours for a moment. You give him a kind smile, reading the neediness in his pupils to fully feel you. His hands wrap around your back, pulling you closer to him. His head meets your chest, plush lips sucking on the bottom of your left breast.

"Fuck." You whimper, grinding against him a little harder now. His large fingers spread along your back, holding you tenderly as his mouth and teeth and tongue do their very best to worship every inch of you they can reach. He suckles dark hickeys on your sensitive skin, drawing moans from you and groans from him with every one. He eventually closes in on your nipple after making quite the mess of gloss and saliva all over you, nibbling the hardened bud between his teeth. "Feels so good, Steve." You praise breathlessly. You've never had anyone be so entertained by your boobs, let alone take the time to show every bit of them so much care and attention.

"Mmm." Steve grunts as the friction you're still creating against him is becoming unbearable. He wants to take his time with you, to enjoy every single second of this night. "Slow down, honey." He gently requests, bringing his lips to yours again for a moment. The kiss is so tender, making your heart burn inside your chest. It sends the message that he'll give you everything you want, that he won't leave until you're fully satisfied. But he needs you to stop rushing, because he wants this to last as long as possible.

"Okay." You reply once he pulls away. You still yourself over him, fully allowing him to take control of the situation. He knows what he's doing, he won't leave you disappointed. All you have to do is trust him.

"Lay down, baby." Steve says in that same kind tone, gazing deeply in your eyes. You nod, sliding off his lap and lying down onto the couch cushion. He carefully puts himself over you, cupping your face and stroking your skin with his thumb. He gives you another heart-melting kiss, though he doesn't stay there long. He gradually makes his way down your body, blazing a trail along your neck, chest, and stomach. He sits back on his knees for a moment, lifting his shirt over his head. Steve reveals his toned chest, and you can't help gasping at the sight of his pronounced pectorals and thick, dark body hair. He's left in just his shorts now, a very noticeable erection forming an imprint in the fabric. "Eyes up here, honey." He teases as he's caught you staring again.

"Sorry. You're just...fuck, you're so hot!" You babble breathlessly, giggling as you're unable to think straight. You just cling to the only idea that's able to stay coherent inside your mind: You want him.

"So are you, Y/N." He repays the compliment, chuckling at your giddiness. You're already so fucked for him, and he can't wait to make you a total mumbling mess. Steve leans over your lower half, reaching a hand down to your belly to undo the button of your jean shorts. He slides the zipper down its track, your breathing picking up in anticipation. You lift your hips up to help him as he pulls them down your legs, leaving you in your matching panties when you lay back down. "So beautiful, baby." He coos, smiling at how soaked the fabric is. He kneels before you, bringing his head down to kiss your hips through the lace. You watch as he slowly trails downwards, inching closer to your clothed heat. His lips press against your pussy, trying their best to feel you through this thin barrier.

"Fuck." You whine at the contact, which feels so good, while also not being nearly enough. Steve presses on, locating your swollen clit and sucking it and your panties past his lips. "Steve." You whimper, bucking your hips towards him. He presses a hand down on your stomach to hold you still, keeping up his suction. He moans at the taste of your arousal leeching out of your underwear, his eyes meeting yours as he teases you. "Please, baby. I need you." You beg for him to move things along a little bit, to fully put his mouth on your throbbing pussy.

"Mm-mm." He hums, shaking his head in disagreement. He continues his exploration along your soaked slit. He drags the flat of his tongue along your covered folds, driving you insane when he goes so far as to push inside of you.

"Jesus...fuck." Your hands fly into his hair, hips rolling into the sensation. He pumps his tongue into your soaked hole as best he can, though your panties prove it to be a bit of a challenge. Despite this, you're still coming undone under his touch. Moaning and squealing, completely drunk with lust. He pulls back after a little while, much to your dismay, fingers looping in the waistband of your underwear. He yanks them off in one fluid motion, spreading your legs wide to get a real good look.

Your silk glistens in the light with sweet, messy juices. Steve licks his lips at the sight, eager to have a true taste. "Such a pretty pussy, baby." He compliments, returning to his position. He inhales your scent, his head dizzying at how delicious it is. He starts off by sucking your clit into his mouth again, moaning at the musky flavor finally meeting his tongue for real this time. He works your bundle of nerves between his plush lips and teeth in a slow, steady rhythm. His tongue swirls around it in broad circles, making your eyes roll back into your head.

"Feels so good, Steve." You pant, holding his head between your legs as he works you over. His arms creep under your thighs, reaching around to take hold of your breasts as a way to hang on while he eats you out. He rolls your nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, dialing up the sensation.

"Your pussy tastes so good, so fuckin' sweet..." Steve mumbles against you, his cock straining inside his shorts. He loves what a mess you are for him. Your thighs twitching at his purposeful movements, the filthy noises fleeing your lips, the fucked-out look on your face. It's all so beautiful, like a vulgar work of art. He decides to up the stakes, angling his head sideways a little to basically make out with your cunt. He leaves your bud alone, kissing your second set of lips, rolling his tongue in repetitive strokes.

"Holy shit..." You've never had anyone do this to you before, but it feels fucking incredible. Every last bit of your pussy is attended to, pushing you far closer to the edge than you expect. He continues with this method, the tip of his tongue dipping inside your entrance every so often. Your nails dig into his scalp, and his hands knead your tits to bring you nearer to your orgasm.

"Mmm." Steve hums against you, drinking up what he can of your slick that's drenching his cheeks and chin. His nose nudges against your clit as he turns his head the other way, making you twitch in response.

"Keep going, baby. You feel so fucking good." You encourage him as the end draws nearer for you. You focus on the sounds of his wet kisses and slurps, and the satisfied moans escaping him as he painstakingly devours you. It all sounds so dirty, but in a most favorable way. You're soaked for him, and he's drunk on you. And neither of you would have it any other way. "Don't stop, Steve...g-gonna cum." You warn, your voice broken and unfocused.

"Mmm." He hums to assure he's heard you, keeping up his pace and intensity. He can't wait to see you cum.

"Oh, god...fuck!" You cry out as bliss finally washes over you. Your thighs tremble, scorching heat setting you ablaze. You tug roughly on Steve's hair as you cum hard on his face. He grunts at your release splashing warmly into his mouth. He swallows what he can, lapping at you until your high subsides. "Fuck." You exhale once Steve pulls away from you to sit back on his knees. You meet his gaze, finding his gorgeous face shining with your arousal. "That was amazing." You praise, sitting up to put yourself level with him. You put your hands on his broad shoulders, giving him a thankful kiss. You moan at the taste of yourself on his lips, taking the lead this time and slipping your tongue in his mouth.

"Mmm." Steve hums into you, letting you lead him to lay down on the other side of the couch. You kneel above him, lowering your lips to kiss his neck. You bite down on his tender flesh, just enough to leave a faint hickey behind. "Y/N." He moans your name at the welcome sting, getting the idea of where this is going.

"You ate my pussy so well, baby. No one's done it that way before." You say lowly in his ear, nibbling on the lobe afterwards.

"You really liked that, huh?" Steve asks, grinning in self-satisfaction at the knowledge of pleasing you. As if your rather loud orgasm wasn't enough indication.

"Mmhmm, it was perfect. And I'd like to return the favor." You lower your hand between his legs, grabbing hold of his erection. You can feel how big he is through his shorts, and your pussy throbs at the needy sound you pull from him as you squeeze.

"Knock yourself out, honey. I'm dying to see what the pretty mouth of yours can do." Steve says, aching to feel you on his cock.

"Oh, believe me, it can do a lot." You giggle excitedly, giving him another brief kiss before positioning yourself between his legs. You pull off his shorts, leaving him in his boxer briefs. You bend down to lay your lips on his stomach, just above his waistband. He sighs quietly at the contact, watching your every move. You press your lips to his clothed erection, noting the damp spot in the fabric where his precum has soaked through.

"Y/N." Steve moans at your teasing, propping his head up with his arm to observe you. You continue to mouth his cock, your saliva forming wet circles in the dark material. Hushed whimpers escape him, he's getting more wound up by the second. You usually don't take so long to go down on a guy, but you figure it's only fair you repay him for giving his all just moments ago. You reach for the hem of his underwear, sliding them down his thick thighs and releasing his stiff dick. It springs free, smacking loudly against his stomach. The fat head is red and swollen, leaking precum profusely.

"Damn." You murmur at his size, unable to look away as you finish removing his boxers. You grab hold of his cock, stroking it firmly to make more pearly fluid leak out of his slit.

"Fuck, baby." Steve moans, hips bucking slightly at your touch. You lower your head to lick up the mess, slowly dragging your tongue in a wide circle around his tip. Your eyes are locked on his as you do so, unbridled lust burning in your pupils. He tastes warm, and salty, even a little sweet. You press wet kisses to his slit, gradually moving down his length as you lazily pump him. More pretty noises leave Steve's lungs, fueling your desire. You drag the flat of your tongue up and down his shaft, watching every small expression that crosses his face. His mouth falls open repeatedly, his brows scrunching in pleasure again and again.

"Havin' fun, Steve?" You ask, spitting on his length to stroke him easier.

"Yeah, feels really good." He pants in reply, eyes rolling back a little at the wet warmth of your saliva. You take him by surprise when you suck one of his balls into your mouth. "Holy shit..." He groans, his free hand gripping the cushion of the couch. You roll his lump of flesh around with your tongue, switching to the other one after a while. You want to tend to every inch of him, just like he did for you. Steve feels so close already, and you haven't even taken his cock all the way in your mouth yet. You work your way back to the main attraction, kissing a blazing trail from his inner thighs to his hips, inching closer to his throbbing length. Steve whines every time you move nearer to where he wants you most, his breath coming out quick and labored.

"You want me to suck your cock, baby?" You ask seductively as you kiss the spot right beside his shaft.

"Yes...fuck, please." He begs, growing more impatient by the second.

"So needy." You chuckle darkly, before taking his entire thick length inside your mouth in one swift motion.

"Fuck!" Steve cries out, his fingers digging harder into the sofa. He's so deep in your throat, he can feel you clenching around him as you gag and attempt to swallow. "Jesus christ..." His knuckles go white as he clings to the couch, eyes squeezed shut so tight as the pleasure is almost unbearable. He won't last much longer, his hand that's propping his head up quickly leaving to grab hold of the armrest.

"You like it when I take your huge cock deep down my throat, Stevie?" You ask, drawing off of him for a moment to breathe. You'd kind of jumped the gun there, almost choking yourself to a point where all that wine would make a reappearance. You couldn't help yourself, you were just so eager to take every last inch of him at once to blow his mind.

"Yes, please don't stop, honey. That felt so good, I almost came." Steve whimpers, forcing his eyes open to beg you to keep doing what you're doing. Just as he's taken you by surprise with his oral skills, you've brought him to once-unknown places with your own.

"You got it, baby. Can you try to hold back for me? I wanna make you feel so good." You offer him this small challenge, wondering if he'll be up for it. But you can guess just how toe-curling and amazing it could be for him if he takes it.

"I-I'll try." He nods frantically, breathing so hard as he longs to feel your hot, wet throat again. You don't say anything else, resuming your previous position. You take him in slower this time, breathing through your nose so you don't yak on him. "Fuck, baby." He moans once your nose brushes against his mound of hair. You suck harshly around his length, swirling your tongue where you can reach as you keep your head still for a moment. Steve mumbles various swears and all the sweet little names he's been calling you, utterly entranced by your seemingly bottomless throat.

"Mmm." You hum quietly as you start moving, a muffled moan as you witness his complete undoing by your own hand. Or lips, more like. He's such a fucking beautiful mess. His mouth running a million miles a minute, shimmering sweat forming on his face and chest, his large hands holding the couch for dear life. You've never seen a man so unraveled, and it's making your pussy drip all over the cushion beneath you. You raise your hands to drag your nails down his chest, bobbing your head at a steady rhythm, taking every last centimeter inside before carefully slipping back off again.

"Jesus- shit- fuck! Your mouth is so damn good, honey. Gonna make me cum so hard down that tight throat of yours." Steve spouts off in a whiney mumble, unable to control himself at this point. His brain has melted into soup, a lusty stew that his mouth frantically serves up to your starving ears. His fingers begin to slip from sweating so damn much, his grip tightening regardless. His body trembles the way he's seen so many girls do before, feeling his high fast approaching. His breath shudders, coming out hot and thick. "Best fuckin' head I've ever had, baby. Such a sweet girl for me, suckin' me so good." Steve continues on like this, every new phrase turning you on more than the last. He's got one of the dirtiest mouths you've ever heard, and that's saying something.

"Mmm." You moan in appreciation of his filthy exclamations. If you weren't so engrossed in watching him lose all semblance of control, you'd lower a hand between your thighs to touch yourself. But it's his turn right now, he needs your skilled mouth to give him the climax he's undoubtedly earned.

"I'm gonna cum, honey. Fuck, it's gonna be so much, fill up your throat with every last drop. Please, I gotta- fuck. Can I cum, honey?" He asks, eyes locking into yours for a moment as he waits for permission. It's been taking everything in him to hold back, it sounded like such a fun idea. But now, he's worried that his cock might actually burst.

"Mmhmm." You nod gently as you keep going. He holds your stare as a shaky gasp leaves him, mouth fallen agape in the prettiest 'o' shape imaginable.

"Oh my- fuckin'- ahh..." He can barely form a sentence as his orgasm takes over his entire body in a flash of blinding white. He groans loudly, hips stuttering and toes furling as his load spills down your esophagus. You swallow every last drop, some of it slicking his length as you continue to suck him through his high. You clean him off with your tongue, not wasting any of his mouth-watering release. You pull away afterwards, letting him lie there panting and struggling to catch his breath. His arm falls across his eyes, trying to block out the bright white that still hasn't left him. "Jesus." He exhales, finally coming back down to earth after a couple orbits around the sun.

"Did you like that, Steve?" You ask, carefully crawling over to lay over his still-trembling body. He senses your weight and warmth on him, wrapping his arms around you as your head meets his chest. His eyes are still closed, but he clears his throat to speak.

"Yeah. Fuckin' loved that, honey. Definitely never had anyone blow me like that before." Steve chuckles, drawing a pleased giggle from you as well.

"Glad I could blow your mind, baby. No pun intended." You both laugh a little harder, unable to help yourselves. It feels so good to do this with someone again, even if it's just for one night. The laughter dies down after a while, the both of you lying in comfortable silence. That is, until you open your mouth again. "He used to call me that, ya know." You say aloud, the thought's been swirling in your head for quite some time now.

"What?" Steve asks, knowing who you're referring to.

"'Honey'. And I called him 'baby'. It was like, our little thing. Simple, and sweet." You say softly, unsure why you're telling him this. You don't expect him to care, or understand. You're probably killing any potential second boner of his, if anything.

"I get what you mean. Me and Nance did the same. Everything else just sounded..." He trails off, looking for the word.

"Corny?" You both say at the same time.

"Yeah, that." Steve laughs lightly at your similar minds. It doesn't surprise him much, though. You're both in the same boat, sailing on the ocean of heartbreak. That's part of what this night is all about. Working through that leftover pain. Together. "It's not weird, right? That we're calling each other that, I mean?" He asks, feeling a little unsure now as you've gone a bit quiet.

"No. I don't think so. At least, it shouldn'tbe. They're pretty common words." You shrug, looking up to find his kind eyes gazing at you.

"They sure are." He smiles, and you can't resist returning it. "Wanna take this to your bed, baby?" He asks, changing the subject.

"That sounds perfect." You gently nod, standing up off the couch and leading him down the short hall to your bedroom. You both crawl under the covers, tangling your bodies together. Your leg rests over his, and your arms are wrapped firmly around one another as you start to kiss heavily again. "Mmm." You moan against Steve's lips are your tongues roll against each other. You can feel his cock poking into your inner thigh, a small streak of precum wetting your flesh. You leave it alone for now, you want to enjoy this as much as you possibly can.

Steve rolls your both over to put himself on top, your legs wrapping around his lower back to keep him close to you. "You're so beautiful, Y/N. You have no idea." He compliments, lips lowering to your throat and hands grabbing hold of your supple breasts to warm you up for him.

"Oh, Steve." You moan breathlessly at his searing touch.

"Such gorgeous tits, they feel amazing in my hands." He says lowly against your neck. "And your sweet little pussy, so wet and sticky for me. I could eat it all night if you let me." He continues, lowering a hand between your thighs to rub two fingers against your clit.

"Fuck, baby. I want you...want you so bad." You whimper, grinding yourself upwards to create friction with his fingertips.

"Yeah, honey? You wanna feel my cock inside that perfect little pussy? Have me fill you up, make youscream for me?" He questions seductively. There's no teasing in his tone, he's genuinely asking you what you want him to do. He's hell-bent on making you feel good, no matter what it takes.

"Yes, Steve. Please, fuck me, baby." You beg, rolling your hips more to get your point across.

"You got it. Just relax for me. Don't wanna hurt you." He says calmly, his hands going to your waist to still you.

"Okay." You slow yourself down, taking a deep breath.

"That's it, sweet girl. Gonna take real good care of you." He presses a final kiss to your throat, soft as silk. He raises his head to look down at you again, taking hold of his stiff cock to lead it towards your entrance. His tip meets your needy hole, making you whimper at the light contact. "I know, honey. I'll give you what you want." He coos, slowly pushing his thick length inside of you.

"Fuck, baby." You moan at the stretch, welcoming every inch of him inside your slippery walls.

"Shit, you're soaked. So tight, too..." Steve groans breathily, working himself inside your taught cunt until he eventually bottoms out. "There we go." He sighs, relieved that he's fit in you so completely.

"You're so big, Steve." You murmur as his tips rests at your cervix, filling you up just the way you like. Your insides clench around him out of reflex, drawing a quiet whimper from the both of you. "You can move now, baby." You say softly, cupping Steve's cheek as he looks down at you. His eyes are blown wide, mouth sitting open as he's stuck in this moment. It's been so long since he's been inside anyone, and he's overwhelmed by the reminder of how good it feels. "Hey, you okay?" You ask, drawing him out of his frozen state.

"Yeah, I'm good. Just...been a while." He laughs lightly, shaking his head to set himself straight.

"It's okay, I'm in the same boat. Just take your time, have fun with me." You reply kindly, bringing his head back down to give him a tender kiss. You wrap your arms around his back to keep him close. "Fuck me, baby. I want you..." You speak against his lips, pressing your heels into his back to coax him into moving. He does as you ask, keeping his bruising lips connected to yours as much as possible. Steve slowly pulls out, and glides back in with ease. He does this a few more times, allowing you to get a real feel for each other.

"God, you feel so good inside, baby. Like goddamn velvet..." Steve groans lowly, carefully sliding his hips back and forth. You're soft and wet around him, keeping his cock nice and warm. He can't get enough. He just could stay like this, thrusting so very slowly into you all night.

"And you're filling me up so well, Steve. So fuckin' deep, but I want more, go faster." You reply breathlessly, needing him to pick up speed and force.

"Sure thing, honey." He says softly, setting a steady pace now. His dick slips against your g spot, making your back arch off the bed. Steve slides his hands underneath your back, wanting to hold you close as he thrusts into you. He's still taking his time, making sure you can feel every curve and vein of him, while taking in every last ridge and squishy spot inside of you at the same time.

"Feels so good, baby. Keep fucking me just like that." You moan, desperate to tell him how well he's doing.

"Yeah? You like that, honey? Am I hittin' that perfect little spot for you?" Steve asks through his groans, kicking up the pace just a tad.

"Yes! Fuck, right there, Steve!" You cry as his cock reaches your g-spot quicker and harder than before. He's so far inside you, you swear he's in your stomach. It's so good to feel this full again, driving you towards an unbelievable high.

"That's it, sweet girl. Takin' me so good, makin' such pretty noises. Music to my ears, baby..." He chuckles against your throat, his head fallen down to focus on his thrusts. You're drenching him with every stroke, making such a mess between your thighs and his own. And the moans and gasps you let out as he fucks you are making him crazy, motivating him to keep giving you what they're so clearly begging for. He kisses your flesh wherever he can reach, your neck, your cheek, your lips when he can bring himself to lift his head. He wants to devour you, to drag you down into a pit of passion and ecstasy with him.

"So good, Stevie...so, so good...don't stop. Don't ever stop." You whimper and whine helplessly as he strategically pounds into you. He punctuates his thrusts every so often to make your muscles clench around him, dialing up the pleasure for you both. And his plush lips finding every part of you possible, marking them up with tender kisses and hickies. It's all so perfect, just what you've been missing these last few months.

"I won't, honey. I'm not goin' anywhere." Steve coos, watching you melt into a simpering puddle beneath him. Your nails are digging into his back, clawing to hold him as far down on top of you as you can. His lips find yours again, his tongue quickly slipping inside your mouth. He rolls his hips a bit now, hitting a different angle inside you.

"Oh...Steve." You whine between clumsy kisses as his new technique is truly blowing you away. You're getting very close now, and you look forward to letting it all go for the gorgeous man above you.

"Mmm, even better, baby? That feel good?" He asks, taking the hint from your moans growing in volume. He knows exactly how to drive you wild. The optimal speed, the right tempo, all of it, culminating in fluid movements that feel totally unbelievable.

"Yes, I'm getting close..." You answer him, breathing so hard your lungs are starting to burn.

"Me too, honey. You're squeezin' me so tight." He groans as your walls begin to flutter around his length. He pushes himself to go faster, overloading your senses for the big finish. Steve grunts loudly as he plunges into you, still grinding his hips as he moves to leave no crevice of flesh untouched.

"Fuck, Steve...make me cum." You beg as your orgasm rapidly approaches, the knot deep within your belly ready to snap. You dig your hands and heels into him harder, forcing him as deep inside you as he can be. He moans at the sting of your nails leaving dark scratches on his flesh, giving you his cock at full force to seal your fate. "Oh god, Steve...I-I'm cumming— FUCK!" You almost scream as your bliss finally takes hold. Your thighs tremble, and your back arches as your eyes roll back into your head. Your insides snap closed around his dick, making it difficult for him to keep thrusting. Your release spills messily on him and the bed below, hot, sweet, and sticky.

"Shit— Y/N..." Steve groans as his own high washes over him, his breath shuddering as his hips buck sloppily. You feel his cum pump into you in thick white ropes, his cock still sliding in and out to keep it all inside. He eventually comes to a stop, his body collapsing on top of yours. You both breathe heavily for a good while, lying together in your messed-up bed in the glorious afterglow. "That was so good, Y/N." Steve hums as he pulls out of you, giving your sweat-slicked shoulder a kiss before rolling over onto his back.

"It really was." You smile in satisfaction, turning your head to look at him. "Thank you." You say softly, lying still as your mixed release oozes from your cunt. You don't have the heart to ask him to grab you a towel, you're sure he's just as tired as you are.

"No, thank you." He shakes his head. He doesn't feel like he's truly done all that much, but you...you've made him whole again. He's got his game back, and now he's ready to look for someone new. Steve leans over to give you a gentle kiss on your lips, and climbs out of your bed.

"Where you goin'?" You ask, hoping he isn't leaving so soon. Although, you suppose he's served his purpose now.

"Relax, honey. I just wanna clean you up." Steve chuckles at the fear in your voice, the worry that he's just gonna fuck you and leave. That's not his style at all. He fully intends to stay over, and give you a little more fun in the morning. He likes you, you were incredible tonight. You both know this isn't going to happen again, so it would be a shame not to make the most of it. He leaves the room to retrieve a damp towel from your bathroom, and carefully crawls back into the bed and pulls the covers away to look at you. He finds a shining, pearly mess leaking from your folds, and his cock twitches at the sight. He's so tempted to lick it all up, but given how puffy and spent your pussy looks, he decides to let you be.

"You're too sweet, Stevie." You coo as he gently swipes the cloth between your legs. He goes nice and slow, carefully catching every last drop while making sure he doesn't rub you raw. You've never had this feel so...tender, like it's all part of the act. Most times it ends up pretty rushed, or you just do it yourself.

"It's the least I can do, Y/N. I made quite the mess." He chuckles, surprised that you're so enamored by his meticulous cleansing. He pulls the cloth away once you're all pretty and pink again, smiling at his handiwork. "There. All better." His eyes flick to yours, an almost heartbreaking amount of adoration in his expression. You can't help but wonder if he's like this with all the girls. You hope he is, anyway. Because if so, any woman would be lucky to have him. Steve returns the towel to the bathroom, and joins you underneath the covers again. "C'mere, baby." Steve says sleepily, holding his arms open for you to put yourself between them. You insert yourself in his hold, nuzzling into his chest to get comfortable. You can smell his cologne mixed with sex and sweat, the scent lulling you into a content state as your eyes flutter closed. You feel Steve's lips placing a kiss on the top of your head, and say something along the lines of 'goodnight, baby'. You aren't too sure, though, you're already well on your way to dreamland at this point.

...Steve held me close all night long, and this morning was just as mind-blowing as last night. He woke me up to see him chowing down between my thighs again, his hair all messy and his hands gripping my thighs for dear life. We took a shower together after that, having another round of unbelievable fucking as the hot water cascaded over us. If I hadn't promised myself not to get attached, I might've convinced him to stay even longer.

But all good things must come to an end. Steve was a rebound, that's all. A much-needed rebound, sure. I'm sure I was the same for him, and that's perfectly fine. I feel far less lost now, able to open myself up to any and all possibilities. Love is still so far off the menu for me, it's served at a completely different restaurant. But sex, all kinds of sex, is more than welcome.

[lliinnkk]

This is a fic I've written from a scene out of my daydreams but this scene itself doesn't fit enough into a fandom to put it on AO3, plus if it did, it'd be multiple at once in a rly strange AU buuuuut I'm rly proud of it and I think it's rly cute so I wanna post it here :) I started writing it in February but I'm gonna post it here instead of writing anything new heh 😂

Word Count: 1.75k

Content: self-sacrificial whumpee; hospital whump; non sexual nudity; stubborn whumpee; comfort

(^Never written up smth for whump tag before so I hope this format is good? Hope I didn't miss anything important)

White light. That hospital stench. Kahston?? What the hell's he doing here??

"Oh shit, she's awake!"

Stop screeching this early in the morning, Faith thought, wincing back at the sound. Was there a needle in her arm?

"Didn't expect you to wake up so soon. Glad you're back! We were just finishing up here." Brandy's familiar face caught Faith's blurred vision, creating a sense of sanity in all the confusion.

"Am I..." her voice fell hoarse and dry and she swallowed harshly before speaking again. "Am I in the med centre? When did I get here?" She tried to sit up but Brandy hurriedly yet gently ushered her back down.

"You shouldn't strain yourself right now, just lie down! You've been in a coma for a long time. Just rest for now." Brandy looked strange, acting so serious, but put on a stupid smile like her usual self with an exasperated sigh.

The memories resurfaced slowly as Faith groggily rubbed her eyes. The last thing she could remember was shouting at Julius, and then...here... Oh.

"Where...the hell is everyone? Are they all okay? How long have I been gone for? Kashton??" So many questions, so little time. "I want answers!" Faith demanded.

"Okay, slow down! I told you not to strain yourself alright??" Brandy fussed, looking like she was about to restrain Faith by force. "Kash, why don't you go spread the good word that she's awake? I'll just handle it myself from here. Let's not allow visitors just yet since she's only just woken up."

"Yeah sure, I'll leave you to it then. I guess that's it for training today?" Kash asked, removing his hospital scrubs. Had he been treating Faith as a patient before she woke?

"Yeah go on, take the day off actually, we'll probably all be celebrating with a drink tonight," Brandy winked as she waved Kash out the door.

Faith took this time to take the rest of the room in. The room was full of hospital beds with equipment filled bedside tables but her bed was the only one being used. On her own bedside table she noted the cluttered amount of flowers and get-well-soon cards piled in with all the syringes and drugs of which the sight sent chills down her spine. She felt again the itch to get up.

"So, to explain the situation for you... Hm, this isn't going to be any easy news to break to you." Brandy let out a breath as though the emotional toll of the topic had physically knocked the wind out of her lungs itself as she took a seat on Faith's left. "Since donating seventy years of your lifespan, you've been stuck in a coma for the past week. I'm so sorry."

Faith's eyes widened. "I've been in a coma for a whole week? Seriously? How could I have lost so much time?" Panicked now, Faith made her third attempt at sitting up, this time unchallenged. The world spun around her and her head swam in a thick void of sickeningly painful dizziness.

"Hey, but don't worry! All our plans went ahead smoothly and everyone's actually settled in really well now. And everyone in hospital is healing super quick too, you don't have to worry." Brandy laid a gentle hand on Faith's shoulder to steady her and they made eye contact, though somehow still they couldn't see eye to eye. "You're fine, we're fine. Everything is going absolutely fine. Trust me. All we need you to do for us now is rest."

Faith's brows still furrowed, an expression of devastating betrayal etched across her face. "but... But what's he doing here?? Why's he here, why's Kash here??"

"Julius and I went to rescue him a couple days ago. No, I think it would be five days ago now actually. Yeah, why?" Brandy didn't understand.

"No... No, no, there's no way, why?? Why is he here? What, are you just saying you don't need me or something? Is that what you're saying? I was supposed to go, not Julius, if I was asleep you should've just woken me up, I'd have been fine, it'd have been easy, so easy!"

"What?? Faith, what the hell are you talking about? Did you not hear me or something? I said you were in a coma for a whole week! We weren't even sure if you were gonna survive, there was no way we were gonna make you do anything short of getting out of bed!"

"Just go and rub it in why don't you? I was just sitting here for a whole week and life kept on moving without me as if I'm not here." Blinking back tears, Faith breathed, balling her fists into her hair in an attempt to pull apart the pounding pain by force. Brandy could all but stare, just trying to put together how to react. "I've lost so much time. I... I've got to make up for this somehow. What the hell can I do to make up for this??"

"What the hell did you expect us to do while you were gone though, nothing?"

"No, I expected me not to have been in a god damn coma! I've lost so fucking much now! Why the hell did I have to pass out like that? I should've been stronger!"

"Faith, what the fuck?? You lost seventy years of your life! You'll never get those back!"

"I... Ugh!" Faith didn't know what else to say so she turned over in her bed and pulled the covers over herself but became tangled in wires and needles. "Ugh, I hate this, I hate being here, I feel like I'm being chained down! Get me out of here!"

"Oh alright, just calm down first, I'm only trying to help you," Brandy sighed, gently removing all the strings and wires attached to Faith's body.

Briefly, Brandy left the room only to fetch a spare wheelchair, then returned to the sight of stupid Faith on the stupid floor, groaning with the nauseating pain of jumping out of bed on unsure footing.

"Oh my god. I'm not even surprised you fucking dumbass."

"Help."

"Just get in the god damn chair."

After clambering into her chair she sanitised her hands before wheeling herself with practised precision out into the woods just outside. She shivered in just a hospital gown, cursing the early January air. This decision looked to worsen the state of her already stupid body but she just needed to get out of that damn hospital. Most importantly she needed to be on her own, possibly the most useless and ashamed Faith had ever felt.

"Thought you'd be here." Brandy's voice startled Faith and she quickly wiped her tears on her arm.

"Go away," Faith said, voice wobbling.

"Yeah yeah, I know. I got you a blanket and a bowl of soup. I don't know what the hell you think you're doing in the freezing cold like this," said Brandy, putting the tray of soup and water on the ground to throw a thick blanket over Faith's stunned face.

"Uh...thanks," Faith hummed, reluctantly taking the tray. She found a neat pair of gloves on it and slowly put them on then spooned the broth into her dry mouth. The steaming warmth spread down her throat and into the rest of her body and she felt as though she hadn't tasted something so good in years.

"it's okay you know?" asked Brandy, watching the wind blow brutally through Faith's hair as she continued to eat. "It's okay that you're not okay."

"I'm fine," Faith said, avoiding eye contact.

"Alright then," she took a seat on a nearby stump and hugged herself, thankfully smart enough to have put a coat on before she left. "But I'm not gonna let you just start walking around like you're perfectly healthy."

"I've never been perfectly healthy," Faith scoffed as she rolled her eyes.

"You act like you are."

"I have to."

"Not now you don't."

"Yes I do. What are people gonna think when they see me like this?"

"Not a single one of us hasn't seen you like this."

"Oh so they just don't care?"

"That's not it. Everyone cares, even Julius, that's why he went for you."

"But everyone's just moving on without me now. No one even needs me anymore."

"Faith, that's not true. You're worth more than just a sacrifice."

Faith just sighed and kept eating, eyes fixed on some stray leaf rolling around on the ground.

"You'd never say that about us so why would you say that about yourself?" Brandy stood up and towered over Faith. No response. This was clearly the end of the conversation.

"I'm done," Faith said, putting her spoon down after some time passed.

"Great, let's go back then."

"No, I'm staying here."

"Oh no you're not, you're coming with me," Brandy grinned maliciously, turning the wheelchair around despite Faith's protests. "You're having a shower!"

Faith nagged and shouted but had no strength to fight Brandy when she carried her bridal style into the shower room and gently set her down on a stool, undoing her hospital gown. It probably would've been easier to bathe than shower since she found it so difficult to walk or move but a fear of the ocean came with consequences.

She sat on the plastic stool under the shower head, completely naked and in need of a shave but probably not today. The water was cold, then hot, then just right, and she soon welcomed the warmth embracing her. All protest melted away at the feel of loving fingers in her hair massaging her scalp. The soft wash cloth saw no complaint as it gently washed down every surface of her body.

Afterwards, she was dried off in the bathroom, wrapped in white robes as Brandy brushed through and blow dried her hair with great care. She was brought to the sink where she could brush her teeth before changing into a clean hospital gown and being carried back to her hospital bed.

"There you go - warm, clean and full on tasty food now," Brandy sang, pecking Faith's forehead.

"Thanks Brandy. And sorry about earlier, I promise I'm really okay now," Faith said, cheeks still pink from the warmth of the shower. Brandy knew she still wasn't really okay but knew better than to kick up a fuss about it. Faith stretched, head no longer pounding. "Alright, I think I'm ready for visitors now. Let everyone in!"

Thank you for reading, I am very proud of this!! ^^

[auspex]

Mark session recap!

As usual, there’s some things I won’t provide a lot of context for so please feel free to ask clarifying questions… to explain context this summary would be way 2 long and this game has been going on for longer than a year! Things in ‘scare quotes’ are close to the actual quote but I can’t ever remember them exactly. 

This was an individual session where a few things Mark was planning to do were resolved. 

The first one was bringing a lock and chain to JP so they could keep the memory sphere they were using locked away. Mark thought that this lock wouldn’t be super helpful if anyone was actually trying to get it but promised JP he’d bring it and so did it anyways. The sphere is essential for them to communicate without the influence of the blood bond. 

JP currently resides at an abandoned lighthouse on Mark’s territory. It’s a shithold, but there’s not another good place for JP to go - it’s quite far out of the way as well. As Mark enters, the first floor is pitch black; he has to navigate by flashlight. As he climbs the stairs he starts hearing periodic moaning (of pain y’all) and a banging sound. It’s hard to describe but it had a real nice horror ambiance :) 

When Mark opened the door to the second floor he saw JP had captured and tied up some anarch and was feeding from him. (Anarchs had been making inroads in Mark’s territory; Mark gave JP free reign to kill them). The sounds of pain were actually coming from JP… he was trying to heal the many injuries he had but it seems Julius had cursed him to feel pain when healing. So that sucks. The banging sounds were the legs of the captured anarch trying (hopelessly) to get away. 

Mark went back downstairs to let JP … finish. When JP returned, he thanked Mark (‘I haven’t been able to feed like that in a long time’) and told him to send more his way if he could. Mark said that it would probably happen without him putting too much effort into it. Mark then gave JP the chain and lock and expressed his concerns with it not helping much; JP said it was just to buy a little bit of time should someone come to get it. 

JP asked how Mark was doing with finding a way to resist blood bonds (without saying so directly) and Mark said he was working on it and should have an update soon. 

I can’t really describe it but the awkwardness of their interactions KILLS me. They both actually know some of what the other is going through but not because they’ve actually talked about it… just due to shared feelings within the memory sphere. They both are risking their lives together for a shared goal and they’ve known each other for 3 nights. Mark is, at this point, JP’s main hope and Mark knows it. JP is not Mark’s only hope but he sure is his best chance and he also knows he’s what he could become if Julius finds out about his betrayal. It’s like they could have intense intimacy but instead of a faked forced distance from each other it's great. The normal pleasantries and social niceties for someone you’ve known for less than a week yet you know their deepest traumas. Hello? It’s great. 

That’s the end of the JP content and the end of that night. When Mark goes home he emails Cassidy as they had already discussed seeing a movie together, and as well as this, Mark needs to ask Cassidy about getting access to books regarding resisting blood bonds (as Cassidy is in charge of the Chantry’s library at the moment). 

Their email exchange is as follows, and each time Cassidy replies within 5 minutes:

—

Good evening Cassidy,

We’ve previously discussed meeting to see a movie together. I would still like to do so and I’m reaching out to ask what evening would be good for you. Please let me know, I could pick you up from the Elysium station. 

Best regards,

Mark

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

Mark,

This Thursday night the theater I spoke to you about will be hosting a favorite of mine. My schedule will be open for most of the night up until 4:30am. It would be prudent for us to meet to discuss our investigation and to continue our important work together. Additionally, I would be able to continue my independent research at the theater with you there as well. I’ll be at the Chantry station at 11pm. 

Enjoy your evening,

Cassidy

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

Cassidy,

This works well. I will be there at 11pm and we can go from there.

Regards,

Mark

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

Mark,

Agreed.

Cassidy

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

Anyway… goddamn nerds that they are, the time is set for later in the week night. Mark does have some time beforehand that night, which is intentional, as Sampson is going to drop off Mark’s cat and Mark has some business at Elysium.

Group session stuff happens in the next few nights, but the night they had planned to meet, Cassidy had emailed just confirming. Mark replied they were fine, and Cassidy replied once again, just writing “Mark,

Excellent.

Cassidy”

Which is so funny. He’s just glued to his computer I guess and has to ge the last word!

Sampson arrives soon after with Mark’s cat. He tosses it on the table and the cat gives a low deep ‘meow’. Sampson says he wants to talk to Mark about things and Mark kind of cuts him off - he doesn’t consider the apartment a safe place to discuss the blood bond to Julius and breaking it. So they leave together, after Mark opens the crate’s door so the cat can start getting acclimated to the house. Mark tries to think of a good place to discuss these things - he is uber paranoid of people listening in - he considers a shitty motel but dismisses that thought. They end up renting a study room at a library. 

Sampson takes out handwritten notes and a vial from a bag he had. He explains that he had been talking to friends about these sorts of things. He says he has heard of the ‘vaulderie’ that breaks blood bonds, essentially replacing the old ones. (The info he has isn’t 100 percent accurate but Mark doesn’t know that). Mark recognizes it as a Sabbat term and asks how many kindred are required for it; Sampson isn’t sure but they both guess at least 3. Mark files away that information for potential future use but cannot think of 2 others that he would be willing to go through with it with, as well as this, breaking the bond at this time would likely result in his final death anyway. 

Sampon has one other lead and says ‘but you’re gonna have to trust me’. Sampson won’t or can’t say anymore, but basically he needs a vial of Mark’s blood for a friend. Mark tries to get more info but Sampson says he really can’t give more. Mark tells Sampson he’ll do it but to make him forget after. Sampson tells Mark “fuck you” just before making him forget lol. Mark thus forgets the vaulderie thing and Sampson has to explain it again; Mark also questions if something happened due to missing time but Sampson obviously isn’t telling and Mark isn’t going to press him.

So we’ll see if that has disastrous consequences, but at least Julius won’t be able to find out that Mark willingly gave blood to try to break the bond. 

On the drive back Mark asks if Sampson wants a car; Sampson would like one. Mark jokes that he could get *insert car they both thought was cool before* and Sampson says he hasn’t thought about that car in years. Mark kind of scoffs at the drama of it and says “like two years” and Samspon just comments that it feels like awhile ago. Geez dude. Anyway he’s gonna get that. 

Now he goes to Elysium, because he wants to talk to the Hound who was investigating his break-in to another Tremere’s lab. Mark has already gotten off scott-free, but because he had G (the gargoyle) help he wants to make sure the gargoyles don’t have further consequences too. 

There is more security at Elysium today; seems some important people are having a meeting. Mark doesn’t worry about that though, and tries to go to the Hounds’ offices (there is more than 1 hound in Detroit). He’s stopped by a guard, who ask his name and sire; Mark does say his sire’s name as he doesn’t feel Julius wouldn’t want him to and is allowed past. Nepo baby perks <3

He arrives at the Hound’s offices and hears music coming from inside; he knocks on the door and after the music is stopped and some shuffling around he is greeted by one of the Hounds who asks who he needs to speak to; Mark gives the name of the Hound who was doing the investigation who I forget the name of. 

The guy is pretending to be professional but Mark comments that they can turn the music back on and he doesn’t mind; they all give each other a look (it’s very funny) and they do so. It’s salsa music. Now that things have become more relaxed, Mark feels more comfortable talking to him. It’s clear the hound doesn’t really care about this particular investigation and Mark has him agree to take no further action (meaning he won’t report to the Reagent about the gargoyle’s transgressions) for just a minor boon in the future. YAY! Mission Accomplished. 

Mark then tries to leave so he can be on time for him and Cassidy meeting up. Unfortunately it looks like the Big Wigs had finished meeting and are leisurely making their way to the exit and Mark is not about to try to cross the guard’s line. It looks like all of the primogen, save Gaius, the Regent/tremere primogen, were meeting. Mark is able to notice blood one of their swords and on one of their boots. He can’t overhear the discussion but is able to make out the words “Basement” “River” “House” “Detroit”. This reminds him of the anarch house party Cassidy and him went to to try to find the Salubri, especially as the basement there was suspicious as hell, but Mark cannot be sure.

He hauls ass and is only 5 minutes late meeting Cassidy. At first he can’t find Cassidy but Cassidy pops up and they start pleasantries. Mark does tell him what he overhears; both of them think its good to know but there isn’t anything to be done at the moment. 

Mark tells Cassidy about how he lost a coterie member (Bernard) but has gained a new one! (Rodriguez). He does not mention how Rose left the country as Cassidy had just mentioned how having the childe of a primogen in their coterie is a boon politically, haha. 

Mark asks about Cassidy’s research and stuff but Cassidy actually doesn’t really want to talk about that unless Mark really really wants to; it seems he was just saying that over email to look professional since his emails are likely monitored. Instead he starts talking about the movie they are going to see “Man of the West” and how it is one of his favorites. Mark asks why and Cassidy says how, since he lived during the time it is intending to portray, he likes how ‘absurd’ it is, as well as how over the top it is, and how “masculine” it is. Which is an odd thing to say, for sure, but Mark isn’t about to comment. Cassidy says it is lucky that the theatre is playing this tonight. 

They arrive at the theatre and the girl at the ticket booth is clearly Kyle OOC, but Mark isn’t sure. Cassidy does what it seems he usually does which is tell the ticketbooth person to ‘forget’ so he can just walk in (he has no money) but it doesn’t work since it is Kyle.. Mark realizes it probably is Kyle and so pays.

Cassidy keeps his face neutral/pondering but I bet he was embarrassed that it didn’t work, haha. 

The theatre is mostly empty. Cassidy doesn’t want to talk during the movie obviously. He occasionally chuckles at scenes that are over the top. 

Now, this is a real movie. Earlier in it, the villain holds a knife to the protagonists throat, and threatens to hurt him should a woman not undress in front of him. Later, in the climax, the protagonist is fist fighting the villain and starts to take HIS clothes off, telling him to see how it feels. He actually does remove his shoes, shirts, and first layer of pants (he still has underclothes, it is a 50s movie after all.) But still. It’s a charged scene and there is homoeroticism throughout the movie, as in most cowboy movies. 

Mark is kind of surprised by this being one of Cassidy’s favorites and does sneak a glance at Cassidy, who is apparently glued to the screen and periodically chuckling. 

The movie ends and they start discussing it on their way back. Cassidy asks Mark if he liked it; Mark replies that he also found it absurd and funny even without the context Cassidy has. Cassidy asks what Mark’s favorite scene was; Mark says it was that final climatic fight scene. Cassidy replies that that scene was also one of his favorites and he liked the “poetic justice of the protagonist taking off the other man’s clothes”. 

Now, he clearly isn’t taking this movie seriously, so this comment comes out of left field and is a bit eyebrow raising. Cassidy asks what Mark liked about that scene and Mark hesitates. He replies that he thought it was surprising that he actually went and did it (taking off the other guys clothes) and he liked how they used the environment in the fight. 

Cassidy comments that using the environment in fights also happens in a lot of kung-fu movies, and that on Thursday’s the theatre has kung-fu night - Cassidy goes on to say they do show more than kung-fu martial art movies; it’s more like Asian martial art night. 

I forget how the conversation gets here but theres all sorts of interesting comments made and it culminates with Cassidy saying that the movie had many ‘undertones and themes’ he found interesting; Mark comments that lots of cowboy movies shared these themes and comments on how those are Cassidy’s favorites. Cassidy just says “indeed”.

He is Gay and testing the waters…….. Im normal. I didn’t do this conversation justice I was freaking out the whole time. 

Cassidy says how this was fun and how he hadn;t done anything like this in a long time. Then straight up tells Mark he should pick the movie next time. Mark thinks about it and suggests Top Gun. Due to the homoeroticism. Continuing to test the waters you see. Mark does say he doesn’t think its likely the theater is going to play it though because its a late 80s movie and Cassidy says he knows the owner and can have them play it. 

Which both me and Mark are internally like omg… he picked this movie for them to see together on purpose he lied about it being lucky… anyways…. . . . .

Cassidy is preparing to head down but then Mark nervously tells Cassidy he has to ask him something important, in a secure area. Cassidy says ok they can talk in the chantry and Mark has to explain no, really secure, like, and I hate to ask this, but your haven? Cassidy takes it seriously and says that he is free until 4:30am afterall so of course, they can talk. 

On the way to his haven Mark asks what the first movie Cassidy saw was and he explains it was a silent film projected onto a barn wall on a sheet, about a princess stuck in a tower. A knight tries to save her but falls due to his armor being too heavy and she remains stuck. Not a good end. I hope this isn’t foreshadowing anything. Cries. 

Mark and Cassidy arrive at Cassidy’s haven. Cassidy’s best friend Liliana is there as usual, Cassidy asks her to leave and she does so without too much issue. Cassidy got his new computer and TV set up and does something on his computer and Mark waits on the couch. 

After that Mark tries to not act as desperate as he is, and says he understands this might be a lot to ask, and that Cassidy saying no wouldn’t mean he doesn’t want to see movies with him anymore than anything, the timing just happened to work out this way. Cassidy nods. Mark continues and says that he needs access to books in the library off the record. Cassidy says he is initially open to this as he can see how important it is to Mark (rip Mark trying not to be desperate) but he would need to know the details before he can commit. 

Mark hesitates a lot but he does really need this, and so says its about resisting blood bonds. Cassidy agrees, and SHOCKINGLY to both me and Mark, does not ask for a boon. He comments that Mark ‘has been helping [me] a lot, even if not by totally by your own choice [referencing that he probably knows someone wants him to help his circle [[Julius does]]] and that his help has been critical’. Mark is super relieved and thankful. 

Cassidy says the books can be here tomorrow and he’ll bring them to his haven. Mark asks if they will be out of view of Liliana and Cassidy says that there isn’t a reason to be concerned with her seeing Mark replies “Cassidy, I am concerned about even you knowing” and then Cassidy gets more serious. He says “if discretion is that necessary, I would be a fool not to ask for more” and now he says Mark would owe him a boon. Cassidy doesn’t seem happy to ask this but Mark expected this and says as such. 

As they finish up Mark says “genuinely, thank you.” Cassidy replies “don’t be thankful yet. You don’t know what the boon is.” Which is a little scary but ok!

Mark goes home. The last thing that happens before the session ends is a cute interaction with his new cat, Bartholomew. He is a fuckin idiot cat and I love him.

He got lost in Mark’s apartment and so Mark listens for the meows to find him… somehow he got stuck in the air vent. The cat appreciates the catnip Mark got him but squirms when Mark tries to touch him, until Mark uses blush of life. Then he accepts Love <3 and Mark can pet his cat. Turns out Bartholomew is too stupid to be scared of kindred and just likes food. YAY! Mark had a GOOD NIGHT!

Here is Bartholomew:

His head is SO mfin empty. here is new jp art!: https://www.tumblr.com/blood-bound/732539471942287360/look-at-this-poor-motherfucker-ough-look?source=share&ref=_tumblr

[rubin-therubix-loverofblorbos]

THE GANG'S ALL HERE {WARNING: PICREW 😦}

Julius Demain Pidieu but what his voice sounds like to me. Sadly, he looks five months old because the picrew I am obsessed with had no wrinkles🥺. He no longer looks like a sweet sphinx cat😭

APRICOT UN'AUTRE PIDIEU IN THE HOUSE. SHE HAS NO CONTENT DESPITE BEING JULES'S CANONICAL DAUGHT- oh. Jules has no content. Like father like daughter 😞.

THIS AUSTRALIAN IS HAVING GAY SEX WITH JULES. {Argent Étolie Chevalier is an OC} {He has like fifteen piercings but I forgor 🤡}

Mommy? sorry. Mommy? sorry. Mommy? sorry. Mo- {Dolores Toujours Pideu, Apricot's cool lesbian albino trans aunt that is going to kill me with her beauty}

Callahan Cyra Jumanah is Dolores's sweetheart, and I AM ALSO GOING CRAZY OVER HER. POWER COUPLE ULTIMATE EDITION. { Some people think she's faking her condition -chronic pain in her left leg and fatigue- because she can walk [with a cane]} {She has to hold Dolly back}

LET'S GIVE IT UP FOR MASC GENDERFLUID PEOPLE WOOOOOOOOHOOOOOOOO {Coquille Bleue Pidieu is the eldest sibling of the three and can sense colors, shapes, and shadows despite being legally blind.}

WE ARE OUTGUNNED, OUTMANNED. OUTNUMBERED, OUTPLANNED- {Captain Héraklès Alcides Puissant-Redevance of the RCM is an old family friend}

WHERE THE HOOD WHERE THE HOOD WHERE THE HOOD AT-{Amoureux Perdue Du'Passe, Jules's former work partner and spouse. Sadly, he was killed on the force a few weeks after Apricot died of brain cancer. It was not a good year for Mr Pidieu.}

W. what if. Jeannie-Marie but when she was young. She was able to work around the giant black ink stain on her yellow dress by finding a thick but comfy sweater. She's one of those people who cannot fucking feel heat so she's alright. {PRETTY WONMAN😳🤤 WITH COCK?????? AMAZING 💯💫⭐🔥🌟✨⚡🎉🎊❤️🧡💛💚💙💜🤎🖤🤍♥️💘💝💖💗💓💞💕💌💟❣️❤️‍🩹❤️‍🔥💋🫂🫀👁️👅👁️👀👍👏👌🤌🤙🤝🤜🤛🙏}

Look, Young Renė was a little cinnamon roll. He could make the most "Fuck dem kids" person into preschool teacher worthy in less than an hour. But y'know, kindness sometimes drowns in hate and PTSD. Although, current Renė MIGHT not make you want to throw a fucking grenade at him if you're at the "Okay, you can put your hand on my wrist BUT THAT'S IT." stage. Zero people are currently at that stage because J-M isn't part of the lore anymore. Also, yeah Renė's trans. trans people can be inconsiderate assholes, we're not sparkles and rainbows. I mean, Look at me. I might not be inconsiderate but I CAN be an ass-of-the-hole.

Lieutenant Leo hey uh what's that say? K. WHAT. KITSURAGI??? OH MY FUCKING GOD. W H A T? {<-My brain in the process of making this guy up.} {LOOK IT'S KIM'S HALF [?] SEOLITE DAD!} {Btw despite the resting bitch face he's a nerdy sweetheart that loves cars. y'know like his son. I'm going to cry.}

Cecelia Davenport/Kitsuragi, Kim's fuckin' MILF of a mom. She and Leo LOVED to match. I'm welling up again. Btw she wasn't fully finished because it was three fucking AM when I made her so. 😔.

I feel like Gaston was a little fuckboy in his teens. I mean, he was still polite though and that lead to conversations like: "So uh [Lip bite} What're you doin' later? OH, FUCK you're grandma's recovering from cancer???? That's amazing! I hope she gets better soon! I can buy some flowers for her if it would cheer her up a bit! Have a good day!" Then Renė comes up and is like "Dude. You fucking sweetheart. Stop acting like a charity and get some goddamn pussy."

DORA THE DIVORCE EMPLOYER- {Not to be omni but oh my god. oh fuck. golly gee. I wolf whistle while my eyes pop comically out of their sockets and I spontaneously combust then pour a giant bucket of water over myself and steam rises from my ears like a train} {She's not actually in this AU but I love her and felt like making her}

Elizabeth is the type of girl to try and look professional but still go all out. She finally got out of the gardener's clothes and is slaying hard. Now, speaking of har-

Made Marie without her hijab because I'm a feral fucking animal and I legit couldn't imagine her hair correctly without reference and ALSO

REMADE YOUNG RENÉ BECAUSE I HATE THE FIRST ONE. Also I hate that you can't color the facial hair because it looks like his hair is dyed when he's just like that.

LOOK, IT'S LILLIANOVICH! What the FUCK would this bitch wear when he was a kid? Just made some shit up bro. Also, I like to think he uses reading glasses even though he has pretty good eyes overall.

THERE WE GO

LINK: X

[finalfullmoon]

⟡⁘JULIUS VELTHOMER HAS 7 MONTHS TO LIVE.⁘⟡

PLEASE READ CAREFULLY BEFORE INTERACTING. (Updated: 05/05/2025)

GENERAL.

Julius Velthomer is an irredeemable antagonist of FE4/FE5. He will die on December 31st, 2025 with no exceptions.*

This is a joke; there are 20 spoken and unspoken rules about character deaths that I will not violate. Just know I am taking full advantage of his impermanence at TOA to circumvent having to redeem him by making him evil enough to want to kill a second time.

Trigger warnings include: child sacrifice, demonic ceremonies, betrayal, mass murder, matricide, torture, mass brainwashing, and incest, in due part to his unfortunate conception. (Will tag as #tw: topic) Feel free to DM me if you need anything else tagged, I genuinely prefer this and will be happy to.

Muse =/= mun. I touch grass.

Julius was cognizant of his crimes and did everything of his own free will. He cannot escape culpability via possession, because in my Julius' case, it was not simply possession, but a completion of an incomplete version of himself. He became absolute with Loptous' presence within him. Julia's brother died a long time ago. But Julius still lives.

ARCS.

(Weeks 1-2): Sickly, kind, saccharine. Will state his awareness of having "been possessed". Almost appears to have reverted back to his personality prior to Loptous, will not raise a hand to hurt anyone. Sharena FEH would be proud. (He is lying out of his teeth.)

(Month 1-2): Cockish, snide, but otherwise harmless. Pretending to be repentant or otherwise cooperative.

(Months 3-4): Vainglorious, will no longer cooperate.

(Months 5-6): Betrayal arcs in full motion.

(Month 7): Unrepentant asshole. Loptous revival with assistance of TWSITD.

INTERACTIONS. (*READ CAREFULLY.)

Julius' writing will put an emphasis on time. He is running out of time, so all his posts will be visibly and purposefully shorter. This will sacrifice my typical lexicon in exchange for quicker, more timely interactions. I will do 20 minute challenges to maintain prompt posting. You do not need to match. Roleplay as long or as short as you please and take your time.

Julius has two modes: (1) WILL NOT BETRAY - Eerily charismatic like his mother. Almost hypnotizing, surely magnetizing. Manipulative in a charming way. (2) WILL BETRAY - Wicked and immoral. Will actively betray you, just give it time.

I will work under the first (1) mode by default unless you consent for your muse to be hurt / betrayed. This may be neurotic, but to ensure everyone is on the same page and understands the stipulations of that kind of development, I need you to actively fill out the form below to consent to this. It takes 10 seconds to fill out and makes me feel more at ease to write said content with you. Otherwise, Julius will essentially be your 'friend' and feel almost 'fixable.' You may sign the form later on or change your mind by refilling the form at any time.

Under the unique circumstance that you want to be friends with a villain, Julius will make you feel almost worthy of his attention. It is fun as it is saccharine as it is manipulative. But he will not pull the rug from under you. In fact, he may seemingly offer to choose you over the end of the world. Isn't that nice?

Send asks anytime. He's in the library like a ghost that haunts your narrative. He chose the library on purpose to publicly piss you off. All asks will be put into a post format, but you will not need to make it into a thread if you prefer for it to be a one-off.

The betrayal arcs will preferably happen later, unless threads progress negatively in an organic way or your muse already has history with him. Do not push for unnatural interactions with drama and let it develop as is. Unless there's history behind it, I will be hard-pressed to accept something off the rails immediately.

You may be one of the special many that already want to kill him. (Funny.) Go for it. To reiterate: he's publicly walking around on purpose to piss you off. All I am asking for is that every interaction where you do want to kill him ends up failing. He can't "die" until December, wherein I will drop him, so until then, please let him fade away like a ghost, knock you out, or manage to escape. Come January, he will essentially be a nightmare your character will conveniently forget.

(JULIUS BLOOD PACT / CONSENT FORM)

ABOUT RELATIONSHIPS.

Julius was canonically in love with Ishtar and this will be acknowledged as past tense. Upon his return, just like everyone else, Ishtar will have to contend with a devilman playing at repentance—a return to the "boy she once loved." I also headcanon that the Loptous Church considered offering him a betrothal to Sara when they were infants, but those discussions fell through. That said, in spite of these prior engagements, I will not be exploring a committed relationship with anyone in my time here, given Julius' timeline. Should an Ishtar come, you can do as you please (yes, even attempt to rekindle the relationship), but please note the complexities I am putting on the table and act accordingly. I want her to be happy, and Julius wants her to be his, but Annie has a gun and seven months to do what I want. (Meme, Courtesy of Tsu) Julius, get a hobby. Leave her alone.

[internetcompanynews]

BizNews brainteaser – Ian’s Trivialus 18 August 2024 - Journal Global Web - BLOGGER https://www.merchant-business.com/biznews-brainteaser-ians-trivialus-18-august-2024/?feed_id=170284&_unique_id=66c2a980b1784 Google NewsQuizmaster Ian Woodrow returns with another Trivialus for the BizNews tribe to take a crack at. Give it a go and see how well you score. Find the answers to this week’s quiz here.Sign up for your early morning brew of the BizNews Insider to keep you up to speed with the content that matters. The newsletter will land in your inbox at 5:30am weekdays. Register here.18 AugustWhat have scientists discovered within the crust of Mars a) Water b) Uranium c) Iron?What is the name given to rule by the wealthy?Who wrote The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy?Last Sunday was the final day of the Paris Olympics.  Which country won the most medals?  For a bonus, which country won the most gold medals?  For an additional bonus, the most successful country in terms of medals won per capita was, a) Jamaica b) New Zealand c) Bahrain?The sentence “May I have a large container of coffee?” is used as a memory aid for what number?Which biblical king was the son of David and Bathsheba?Which film debuted in November 2001 and made stars out of its child actors Daniel Radcliffe, Rupert Grint and Emma Watson?Which region of Russia did Ukrainian troops invade in the last week?Who had a hit in 1984 with ’99 Red Balloons’?  Bonus for her nationality.The world record for holding one’s breath underwater is just less than a) 15 minutes b) 20 minutesc) 25 minutes?  Bonus point for the diver’s age (within 10 years).Billed as “the biggest interview in history” which two people interacted on social media on Monday?What style of music literally means “new wave” or “new trend” in Portuguese?  Bonus for the country of origin.Which Chinese car maker claimed this week to have an electric battery that can be charged significantly faster than its rivals, a) BYD b) Zeekr c) MG?The Barbarians is an invitational rugby team made up of various international players.  They typically play in a black and white hooped shirt.  What colour socks do they wear?Fought in September 1918, what was the climactic battle of the WWI’s Sinai and Palestine campaign?Hibernia was the Roman name for which country, a) Spain b) Scotland c) Ireland?On which celestial body would you expect to find Hell, Julius Caesar, Birmingham, Billy, Ptolemaeus and Archimedes?How many US states does the Appalachian walking trail traverse a) 8 b) 10 c) 14?How many hearts does an octopus have, a) 2 b) 3 c) 4?Which country has the oldest, continuously used flag?Read also:Cyril Ramaphosa: The Audio BiographyListen to the story of Cyril Ramaphosa’s rise to presidential power, narrated by our very own Alec Hogg.Source of this programme “This is another glamorous component!”“Give it a go and see how well you score…”Source: Read MoreSource Link: https://www.biznews.com/light/2024/08/18/ians-trivialus-18-august-2024#GoogleNews – BLOGGER – GoogleNews http://109.70.148.72/~merchant29/6network/wp-content/uploads/2024/08/g4e9a2c720220cbdd7be4bea934a2e711c3cf34792bbf9225301d699aa418f6d6b68a1e0cfaca947d390fa99d33a777d0_64.png BizNews brainteaser – Ian’s Trivialus 18 August 2024 - Journal Global Web - #GLOBAL BLOGGER - #GLOBAL